Lost in the Void, Found in the Stars | Damian Wayne Oneshots

Counting Binary | Jay Nakamura

Getting tired of all these Jondami fics, they're way too overrated and you really can't avoid them, so as a fuck you to Supersons fans here's a fic of Jay Nakamura.

Summary: Damian Wayne has always been good at hiding his emotions—cold, calculating, never betraying a thought. But Jay Nakamura has a way of undoing all of that, lowering his guard piece by piece with just a smile, a glance, a laugh. He counts in binary to keep control, and Jay counts clouds.

.・。.・゜✭・»»——⍟——««.・✫・゜・。.

Damian was used to Gotham's gray skies. The clouds hung low over the city, casting everything in a muted, constant twilight. It suited him—suited the way he kept his feelings at bay, like the way the sun was hidden behind the thick layer of clouds. Predictable. Controlled.

Until Jay Nakamura showed up in his life.

Damian stood beside Jay on the rooftop, the breeze playing with their hair. Gotham stretched out below them, a sea of lights and shadows. It was a surveillance run, quiet and uneventful. They were supposed to be focused, keeping an eye out for any disturbance. But the longer they stood there in silence, the more Damian’s attention drifted from the streets below to the boy standing next to him.

Jay leaned casually on the railing, his arms crossed as he stared up at the sky. His vibrant pink hair stood out against the dull backdrop, a bright splash of color in Damian’s otherwise monochrome world. He was smiling to himself, and Damian found his gaze lingering far longer than it should.

"You ever think about how many different shapes clouds can make?" Jay asked suddenly, his voice breaking the silence between them. He didn’t turn to look at Damian, his eyes still tracing the sky.

Damian blinked, pulled back into reality. His first instinct was to scoff—what kind of ridiculous question was that? They had more important things to think about. And yet he found himself pausing, the sharp retort dying on his tongue. Jay had that effect on him.

"Clouds?" Damian said finally, his voice more neutral than he intended.

"Yeah," Jay continued, still staring upward. "I used to try and count them when I was a kid. See how many I could spot in different shapes before the wind broke them apart. It was calming, you know?"

Damian didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he stared at Jay for a moment, watching how his face softened when he talked about something so simple. He was so open, so easy to read, and it infuriated Damian in a way that made him feel completely off-balance. He felt exposed and that made him retreat further into his mind.

Zero. One. One. Zero. One. One.

It was a habit he'd developed over the years, a way of grounding himself. Counting in binary when emotions threatened to bubble up, when control seemed to slip through his fingers. It was logical. Safe.

Jay turned his head slightly, “What about you? How do you deal with… everything?”

Damian stiffened. He wasn’t sure how to answer that without giving too much away. How could he explain that when he was around, it became harder to keep things contained? That the carefully constructed walls he’d spent years building felt fragile and paper-thin?

"I don’t have time to think about trivial things like clouds," Damian muttered, deflecting. His voice was sharper than intended, almost giving him away.

Jay didn’t seem fazed. He smiled softly, his eyes turning back into the sky. "That’s your problem, Damian. You take everything so seriously."

Damian felt his jaw tighten. He knew Jay didn’t mean it as an insult, but the truth of the statement dug under his skin. Of course, he took things seriously—he had to. It was the only way he knew how to survive.

Zero. One. One. Zero.

But Jay’s words lingered, hovering in the air like the clouds he’d been watching so intently. The breeze was colder now, brushing against them as they stood in silence again. Damian’s mind raced, trying to focus, trying to push away the thoughts creeping in, but it was impossible. When Jay was near, everything felt heightened—every glance, every casual touch, every laugh.

He found himself wondering what it would be like to admit, to—just once—let Jay see beyond the mask. To say something real, something that reflected the way his stomach twisted whenever he smiled at him like that. But he couldn’t. It was too dangerous, too raw. He wouldn’t give in.

Instead, he counted.

Zero. One.

But Jay was still there, and the silence stretched between them, the distance growing and shrinking all at once. Damian clenched his fists at his sides, feeling the weight of the unspoken words press against his chest. He was angry—so angry that Jay could make him feel so much without even trying.

"Jay," Damian said suddenly, the name slipping out before he could stop it.

Jay turned his head. "Yeah?"

Damian hesitated. He wanted to say something. Anything. But the words caught in his throat, and all he could do was stare. For once, the binary wasn’t helping—it wasn’t enough to drown out the noise inside him.

"I… never mind," Damian muttered, his voice low. He turned away, forcing himself to focus on the city below.

But he could feel Jay’s eyes on him, could feel the warmth of his presence even though they weren’t touching. And in that moment, Damian realized just how much he hated him—hated the way he made him feel so vulnerable, hated that he couldn’t control it.

Jay didn’t push him further, but Damian could sense the understanding between them. It was frustrating in its simplicity, how Jay seemed to know him better than he wanted to be known.

“You know,” Jay said softly, breaking the tension, “if you ever need someone to count clouds with, I’m around.”

Damian’s heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, he allowed himself to imagine what it would be like to accept that offer. To just be with Jay, no one else. But then the thought passed, replaced by the familiar weight of responsibility, of duty.

He would never let himself be that vulnerable. Not even with Jay.

Zero. One. One. Zero.

End