Damijohn oneshots

It's over?

The tension in the air crackled like static electricity. Damian, perched on the edge of their shared bed, felt the familiar knot of anger tightening in his chest. He was used to being alone, used to handling things his own way. But John, with his infuriatingly optimistic outlook and boundless empathy, had somehow wormed his way into Damian's life, and now, into his heart.

Their relationship, like a tangled vine, had been a slow, cautious growth. Damian, the prodigal son of Gotham's greatest detective, had been wary of vulnerability. John, the son of Superman, had been open and trusting, a stark contrast to Damian's guarded nature. They were an unlikely pair, but their differences, like the sun and the moon, seemed to complement each other.

This particular disagreement, however, had been brewing for weeks. Damian, restless with the confines of his life, had accepted a mission from the Outsiders, a covert team of heroes he'd joined in his quest for independence. It was a dangerous mission, one he knew would put him at risk. He'd tried to brush off John's concerns, but John, ever the protective boyfriend, had insisted on knowing the details.

"It's not your business," Damian had snapped, his voice laced with a venomous edge.

"It is my business," John had countered, his voice firm but gentle. "I care about you, Damian. And I worry about you."

The words had stung. Damian hadn't realized how much he craved that kind of care, how much he valued John's concern. But his pride, his ingrained need for control, had made him lash out.

"I don't even know why we're dating," he had blurted out, the words tasting like ashes in his mouth.

John's eyes, which usually held a playful twinkle, had hardened. The hurt in his voice was palpable.

"Fine then, find a new boyfriend," John had said, his voice tight. "I care and worry for you, and you do this stuff."

And then he had walked away, leaving Damian alone with the weight of his words. The room felt empty, the silence deafening. Damian knew he had gone too far. He realized, with a sickening pang of regret, that what he had said was not true. He didn't want a new boyfriend. He wanted John, with his sunshine smile and his unwavering loyalty. He wanted someone to care for him, someone to worry about him. He wanted John, and he wanted him desperately.

Damian hadn't left his room in a week and only ate because Alfred made him eat. Bruce was worried about his son and Damian brother's were worried about him even if they don't always get along. Meanwhile, with John, he was sobbing in the barn with his dog Krypto, feeling utterly alone and betrayed. The farm had never felt so empty without Damian. His heart felt like it was in a vice that was being squeezed by the hands of regret.

John had tried to call Damian a few times but his calls had gone unanswered. He'd left messages, texts, but nothing. The silence was deafening. It was like the wind had stopped blowing and the world was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.

The days stretched into nights, each one heavier than the last. John threw himself into his work at the Kent Farm, hoping the physical labor would distract him from the emotional turmoil. The familiar scent of hay and the comforting sounds of the animals provided some solace, but it was a hollow comfort. Every time he saw a shadow that could be Damian, or heard a rustle that could be his footsteps, his heart skipped a beat, only to sink when reality set in.

Damian, meanwhile, was on the Outsiders mission, pushing his body and mind to their limits. The adrenaline rush of fighting for a cause took his mind off the pain, but it was a temporary fix. In the quiet moments, when the chaos of battle ceased, he found himself thinking about John's words, about the hurt in his eyes. He knew he had to make things right, but he didn't know how. He was used to dealing with the world's problems, not his own.