Chapter Text
"Are you telling me my little bird is bonded?" Dick frowned, staring in disbelief at the hologram Clark was projecting for everyone to see. The floating figures, two silhouettes intertwined by threads of red and gold light, rotated slowly in the air, as if dancing.
"Something like that," Bruce replied with total calm, as if he were explaining the Batmobile’s configuration and not his youngest son’s sentimental fate.
"‘Something like that,’ he says," Jason repeated with a dry laugh, elbowing Tim. "Translation: the demon and the junior boy scout are biologically connected by the power of alien love."
"It’s not alien love, Jason," Bruce growled without looking up from the projected data. "It’s a Kryptonian emotional resonance."
"Oh, sure," Tim chimed in, his analytical tone betrayed by the amusement in his eyes. "Because ‘Kryptonian emotional resonance’ sounds so much less romantic."
Damian, who had been standing in a corner with his arms crossed, muttered through gritted teeth, "Say ‘romantic’ again, Drake, and you’ll wake up hanging from the cave ceiling."
"Dami!" Dick scolded him, though he was laughing.
"Don’t laugh," Damian huffed, his cheeks flushing. "This isn’t funny."
"Of course it is!" Jason was already laughing hard. "Did you hear what Dad and the original boy scout said? If one of you suffers, the other does too. Meaning, if you get hungry, Jon starts scarfing down cupcakes like a man possessed."
"That explains so much," Tim murmured, mentally noting to check Jon’s glucose levels next time.
"I don’t think it works like that," Conner admitted, shooting Tim an amused glance.
"Whatever, point is, you two are stuck together now," Jason shrugged.
"It wasn’t intentional! I didn’t know this could happen!" Jon, who had been trying to hide behind his father, lifted his hands defensively.
"No one said it was, Jon," Kara stepped in with a warm smile, scratching Krypto’s ears, completely unfazed by the chaos. "On Krypton, it was considered very sacred, you know?"
"Sounds familiar," Conner muttered with a smirk, looking at Clark. "Kryptonian genetics: creating drama since year zero."
"Kryptonian genetics," Damian echoed under his breath with a scoff. "Ridiculous."
He turned toward Jon, who still looked torn between embarrassment and nervous laughter. For a moment, no one spoke; the only sound was the soft hum of the projector and the quiet murmurs of the rest of the family, all clearly enjoying the spectacle far too much. Jon, however, gathered his courage and stepped forward, his eyes shining with a mix of anxiety and relief.
"So…" he began, scratching the back of his neck, "does that mean we’re… connected forever?"
"Unless there’s an emotional collapse that breaks the synchronization or exposure to enough red radiation, yes," Bruce raised an eyebrow.
"I guess we should congratulate the newly… what’s the word? Bonded?" Tim let out a low whistle.
Jason laughed so hard that even Alfred had to cough to hide a smile.
Damian rolled his eyes, though the faint twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed him. He walked over to Jon, ignoring the chorus of snickers still echoing around them. He stared at him for a long moment, that same feline intensity he used to disarm his enemies, though now it carried something softer, almost resigned.
"Could be worse," he finally said, his tone so dry that Jon blinked in confusion.
"Worse?" Jon repeated, incredulous.
Damian shrugged. "Could’ve been with Drake."
Silence lasted a second before Jason’s laughter burst out like an explosion. Even Tim smiled, shaking his head, while Jon let out a laugh that sounded more like relief than amusement. Damian allowed himself the tiniest smile brief, but real.
Clark watched them from the side, arms crossed, not intervening. There was worry in his eyes, but also something like pride. Bruce, meanwhile, seemed to be mentally evaluating the tactical implications of the bond, as if it were a new kind of encrypted communication.
Jon ran a hand through his hair, still laughing quietly.
"I guess… it’s not that bad."
"Not terrible," Damian admitted, stepping closer until they were face to face. "Inconvenient, maybe. But…" He hesitated, his eyes softening slightly. "If I have to be bound to someone, I don’t mind that it’s you."
Jon felt his throat tighten. He’d expected resistance, sarcasm, even a thinly veiled threat, but not that. Not that careful, almost clumsy sincerity.
"Damian…" he whispered, but before he could say more, Damian cut him off with a gesture. "Don’t make it weird, Jonathan."
Jon let out a shaky laugh, his eyes shining with that open, earnest emotion he never quite managed to hide. He took another step forward, and when his hands brushed Damian’s arms, the hologram behind them flickered. The golden threads brightened, pulsing in time with their heartbeats.
The rest of the room fell silent.
Bruce simply nodded, as if confirming a theory he’d suspected for years. Dick placed a hand dramatically over his chest, pretending to wipe away a tear. "My babies are growing up so fast," he fake-sobbed, earning a murderous glare from Damian.
Jason muttered something about needing a bucket to puke rainbows, while Tim was already taking mental notes on how to measure the emotional resonance between two alien-bonded teenagers.
Unfazed as ever, Alfred merely adjusted his gloves, gave them all a look filled with quiet resignation, and announced in his calm, unshakable tone:
"I’ll start preparing dinner."
"I want to help!" Kara exclaimed, practically running after him, with Krypto barking happily before following her, tail wagging high.
"Don’t even dream of it, Kara last time you nearly burned down the kitchen," Conner shot back, following her anyway, because he knew she’d do it regardless.
"That was a scientific accident," she defended herself, already heading toward the elevator.
Tim sighed, putting his tablet away as he followed. "I’ll supervise the ‘scientific accident,’ just in case."
Dick was next to leave, dragging a still-laughing Jason with him and throwing the boys one last, knowing wink.
"Don’t kill each other or kiss in front of Dad," he joked, right before disappearing into the elevator.
And then, they were the only ones left. Bruce and Clark exchanged a silent look, that mix of paternal concern and resigned acceptance shared only by the parents of impossible teenagers.
Clark was the first to sigh.
"I think we should leave them alone," he said softly, almost kindly. "And I think it’s time to give Lois the exclusive."
Bruce didn’t reply. He just nodded, turned on his heel, and walked away without a sound, his black cape dragging softly over the metal floor. Clark followed him, leaving Damian and Jon in the warm, echoing stillness of the cave, the hologram dimming behind them as if the whole world were granting them permission to breathe.
When they were finally alone — or as alone as one could be in a cave full of microphones and cameras — Damian let out a long sigh and dropped into one of the chairs.
"I guess I can’t run from you anymore, even if I wanted to."
Jon smiled, approaching slowly until he sat beside him. "You never seemed like you wanted to."
Damian glanced at him sideways, and for the first time, there was no sarcasm in his expression. Only a strange calm as if something inside him had finally found a place where it belonged.
"Maybe not," he admitted.
Jon didn’t say anything else. He leaned in just a little, resting his forehead against Damian’s shoulder. The silence filled with the sound of monitors, of their steady breathing, of that invisible bond vibrating between them with every heartbeat.
Damian raised a hand and placed it on Jon’s chest, right where he could feel the echo of his own pulse.
"This… is annoyingly comforting."
Jon let out a quiet laugh, his eyes closing with a peace he rarely allowed himself.
"You could just say you like it."
Damian didn’t answer. He just let him stay there, feeling the warmth they shared, the synchronized rhythm of their hearts. And when Jon settled in a little closer, listening to that steady beat beneath his ear, Damian let him.
He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to.
Because, though he’d never admit it out loud, deep down he knew he’d stopped fighting that connection from the very first moment.
And Jon, wrapped in that silence, smiled.
Because for the first time, “forever” didn’t sound so terrifying.