Damien Al Ghul
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Summary
Damian has no words. The blatant disrespect of such treatment, the complete disregard of his person is… incendiary. Damian is the heir of the Bat, the next Demon’s Head, a prince of his people, and yet Drake is using him as a footstool?! While there is a rule for no shoes indoors in the Wayne household? What sort of maladie… How dare… This is simply inconceivable!
It should irk him, this scorn and contempt he is handled with, the mistreatment by the hands of such as Drake, and yet… it does other things to him. The older teen treating him like dirt under his feet is strangely — and horrifyingly — arousing.
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"I'm not paying you 1,000 dollars to go out with me!" Damian protests, affronted.
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When Damian got on Twitter, it was obvious. Sprees of Great Dane retweets, expensive suit photos, nature scenes, and basically an inundation of all things Damian for a good half an hour before the flood would stop and he'd be gone again for months on end. But this - this - was something else entirely. A single post at five in the morning: Can't fucking sleep, this is such crap. and nothing else. No retweets, no pictures of Titus, just radio silence. Except the evidence of his likes left behind on Tim's feed.
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Prompt: "A male or female, who by state law is underage, but doesn't look it."