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

Matching Battle Scars | Chris Kent

Summary: After sparring in the Batcave, Chris Kent leans in for a kiss but they accidentally collide foreheads.

.・。.・゜✭・»»——⍟——««.・✫・゜・。.

It happened so fast, neither of them really knew what hit them—literally.

Damian Wayne and Chris Kent had been sparring in one of the Batcave’s endless training rooms, the kind of high-intensity workout that left both of them breathless but grinning like idiots. Somewhere along the way, the tension between them shifted from competitive to...something else.

Chris was the first to notice. The way Damian’s chest rose and fell, the slight flush on his cheeks, the look in his eyes that wasn’t the usual sharp glare but something softer, something warmer. Chris swallowed, suddenly more aware of how close they were standing—sweaty, out of breath, muscles aching, but so close.

Damian was still talking, probably critiquing one of Chris’ moves from the last round, but Chris wasn’t really listening. His gaze kept drifting down to Damian’s lips, and he had this overwhelming urge to close the gap between them.

And maybe it was because they were both tired, or because neither of them was used to moments like this. But when Chris leaned in, Damian did the same.

Then—smack!

The collision was brutal. Forehead slammed into forehead, with enough force to make both of them stumble backward, clutching their heads in pain.

“Ow!” Damian hissed, pressing the heel of his hand against his forehead, eyes squeezed shut. “What the hell was that?”

Chris winced, his own hand rubbing the sore spot on his forehead. “I was...uh—” He stammered, face flushing deeper than it already was from the workout. “I thought— Never mind. That was my bad.”

Damian opened one eye, the sharp annoyance fading as he processed Chris’ awkwardness. “You thought...what?”

Chris cleared his throat, suddenly very interested in the floor. “Look, I don’t know! I thought we were—”

Damian blinked, the realization dawning on him. “Going to kiss?” He said, raising an eyebrow. “You’re worse at timing than you are at blocking punches.”

Chris let out a half-nervous laugh. “Oh, so you did notice.”

“I’d have to be blind not to notice.” He said, glaring at Chris.

They were silent for a moment, with Chris biting his lip. He should probably say something.

Then, the corners of Damian's lips twitched. "You're supposed to tilt your head when you kiss, you know," he said, a faint smile forming on his lips.

Chris blinked. And then, unable to stop himself, he laughed. "I was!" He exclaimed.

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

"Hm." Damian considered, "We'll have to try again, then. Maybe tilting your head in the opposite direction will work better." He reached out, wrapping his arms on Chris’ shoulder. "Try again, slower this time."

Chris’ eyes widened, but he didn’t need any more encouragement. "That's fair," he said, leaning in.

This time, it worked.

He moved cautiously, the two of them closing the gap with a shared breath. The soreness of their sparring felt like it’d been entirely worth it.

When Tim spotted the faint discoloration on Damian’s forehead over breakfast, he raised an eyebrow and asked if Damian had been foolish enough to miss a block in training. Damian just scoffed, muttering something about "a miscalculation."

Meanwhile, Chris got a similar interrogation from Jon, who’d noticed a small purple mark blooming just beneath his hairline.

"Training accident," Chris had said with a dismissive shrug, fighting back a smile as Jon’s curious gaze lingered.

They never told the others how the bruises really got there. The real story was a secret between the two, and even thinking about it made Chris’ cheeks burn.

They both had a good laugh about it later, though—after patrol when everyone else had gone their separate ways, leaning against the Batcave wall, where their shoulders brushed.

"I mean, we couldn’t have messed that up worse," Chris whispered with a grin, nudging Damian.

"Speak for yourself," Damian retorted, though his eyes gleamed with amusement. "You’re the one who rushed it."

"Oh, right, I’m sure you’re an expert in avoiding forehead collisions," Chris teased, crossing his arms with a smirk.

Damian’s lips quirked into a rare, genuine smile. "We might need more practice, then. Just to avoid any future training accidents."

They giggled softly, the sound echoed through the cave. Bruises or not, it was worth the ache.

End