Work Text:
-Uh, Damian? Please remind me again, what should I help you with?
- Tt, of course I knew that your brain wasn't working so well, but even I couldn't imagine that everything was so sad.
The two teenagers walked through the busy streets of a city that was cloudy and dark even during the day, as if the sun didn't want to deal with such a desperate, blood-soaked place like Gotham. The cold wind forced people to huddle and wrap themselves in their jackets or coats more tightly, not wanting to release an ounce of warmth or even less into these terrible paws of coolness. Clouds cover the blue sky once, turning brightness and light into something gloomy, dark and gray, enveloping the sky with clouds and torrential rains, of which there were quite a lot this week, so that puddles formed on roads covered with smoky fog, which the sewers did not have time to absorb into themselves, leaving dirty, smog-soaked and chemical lakes and streams live their own lives.
Damian clicks and rolls his eyes, thrusts his hands into the pockets of a swamp jacket, which the whole family insisted on wearing because of the last autumn days and the coming winter, the icy cold of which could be felt early in the morning when he went outside, covered with fog and rain settling on rotten greenery.
His steps were not very fast, but his friend was still a couple of meters behind him, which made him desperately try to catch up with the boy.
- Damian, I'm serious, what you said "We're going shopping" didn't give me literally anything! Can you at least explain a little, please?
Colin's voice was not angry even after the insulting comment made to him just a couple of seconds ago, on the contrary, the same bewilderment and bits of interest were read in it. The red-haired man was already quite used to such behavior and the manner of communication of his friend, and if he had taken to heart all those words spoken by a more tanned boy, then his organ would have already completely failed.
Wilkes was able to catch up with Damian and finally keep up with him, sighing heavily at his friend's silence after asking a question. Silence enveloped the two of them, and Damian appreciated, though he didn't admit it, that Colin was giving him time to formulate an answer that would satisfy both his friend and himself.
Many believed that if Damian fell silent in the middle of a conversation after a question was asked, then he simply ignored them and did not consider it "important" to answer them. Sometimes it was, especially if the questions were stupid and completely inappropriate, which he was not going to answer from the word at all. But for the most part, his silence meant that he needed time to formulate a response to the people he was talking to, and although it could take time, those who knew Damian well enough understood this need and gave the boy as much time as he needed, because eventually he would answer them.
Damian sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut from his own thoughts, not knowing how to respond to the boy standing next to him.
- This is....ahem, as you know, about 28 days ago Jason gave me a birthday present.
In confirmation of this, he raises his right hand, on one of the fingers of which was worn a white gold ring with a green stone and engraved patterns along its entire length, twisting and connecting so that upon prolonged examination one could notice birds and snakes hidden on the surface of the jewelry.
Colin waves his head in agreement, looking first at the jewelry on his hand, and then back into Damian's eyes, noting to himself that the boy wore the ring to their meeting, although he usually tried to hide it from the eyes of everyone else.
Even from my own family.
- Yes, I remember how the next day you called me and said that we needed to talk in such a voice that I already started mentally writing a will and choosing the place of my grave.
Yes, Damian remembered meeting the red-haired man after his night with Jason with the intention of talking. Or rather, to tell about his secret relationship with his adopted older brother.
The boy looked very pale at the time, as if he couldn't figure out at first if Damian would kill him slowly for something he couldn't remember, or if he had actually done something and couldn't remember.
In Damian's opinion, the way this meeting went was....not so bad as what he actually expected from her.
Perhaps he was a little sorry that he had doubted Colin and their friendship.
But quite a bit.
- And yes, I also remember you talking for two whole hours later about how fucking Jason's hands are when they're covered in blood, and how he basically looks when it's on him. Oh, and there's also a separate item and a book about his hips.
Damian's eye twitched at this comment, and he sharply regretted that he had not stabbed his friend and dripped so that no one would find out and never find him.
-tt, why do all the people of the Catholic faith whom I know swear?
- I don't know, do you know a lot of Catholics who swear?
- Yes, you and Jason. And both of you use abnormal vocabulary in your speech.
Damian thought about it once, and it seemed funny to him to some extent, because only two of his entourage were believers, and both Catholics who swear without a twinge of conscience.
A strong wind blew, causing the hair covered with gel before going outside to stand up in a funny shape.
Damian chuckled and sighed heavily in annoyance and cursed the weather of Gotham for the thousandth time this week as he adjusted the strands back with his hand.
- Well, that's it. The ring was a gift for the date of my birthday. And recently I've been doing some research on a language that I didn't know or even heard of, which is pretty amazing, because my knowledge and skills are above average, and you know it.
- Yeah, and what kind of language is that, and how does it relate to the fact that you dragged me outside in such a cold?
The boy put his hands in the pockets of a shabby jacket with fur on the hood and looked up at the sky, as if to prove his words about the bad weather.
- On the Internet, it is called the language of love, and every person has it.
Now Colin's surprised gaze was directed directly at Damian, who in turn withstood this and did not turn away, showing with all his appearance that what he had just said was reliably true.
- You....Fucking wait...Have you studied the language of love?
The red-haired man grinned, but it was not mockery, but nervousness from the realization that his friend, Damian Al Ghul Wayne himself, was doing such research in all seriousness, which was very surprising, but it was worthy of respect and at the same time panic from realizing the whole situation.
- Tt, yes, it came out spontaneously, but from various information on websites, I learned that people can express such a feeling as love in different ways, such as tactile, verbal and material. According to my further research, I realized that my manifestation of feelings for people close to me is the gift of material values that I acquire for them. There are several examples, but I won't talk about them, but I think the essence has become clear to you.
Colin was silent for a while, and then he snorted and took a deep breath, there was amusement and even some undisguised tenderness in his eyes.
- Damian, if you wanted me to help you choose a gift for your boyfriend, then you could say that instead of saying all this in abstruse words.
Damian felt something pleasant twist inside him when a word he had never used came out of his friend's mouth. To be honest, he didn't even think about using it even mentally, always using words like "partner" or sometimes "lover", it sounded more correct and familiar to him.
But "the guy."
The boy knew that it was difficult for him to understand many social signals of children his age because of their immaturity, unlike himself, so this word seemed strange to him, even if you start thinking about it.
Damian chuckled and pointedly turned away from his friend, pretending to look at the window of the store next to which they were passing, although both knew perfectly well that there was nothing there that they needed.
They walked for a while in soothing silence, which gave Damian time to reflect on the reason why he went to get something for Jason and Colin, although before that he could have done it perfectly by himself without outside help.
But this was completely different. Neither books, nor edged weapons or kitchen utensils could compare to the ring given to him, which now felt on his tanned and thin finger like something that he could not explain even to himself.
Birds flew overhead, chirping and whistling, flapping their wings to rise above multi-storey buildings, straight to the sky.
- I want to give him something special. Something that makes sense, not an ordinary trinket like a favorite book, bookmarks or a dagger.
"I don't think the dagger belongs to trinkets, but I get your point about it. Hmmm....
Colin thought for a moment, putting his hand under his chin and frowning, starting to gnaw on his thumbnail and clinging to the skin of the tip- a habit that Damian considered disgusting, disgusting and not hygienic in relation to the mouth and the nails themselves. Therefore, he does what he has been doing since the very first day of their acquaintance and the realization of this disgusting thing like blowing fingers into his mouth - rolls his eyes and hits his hand, from which the boy flinches and quickly puts the bitten hand into his pocket as if he had not gnawed it like a bone a second ago.
- Okay, well, if you don't want to give him all this, since you've already given it to him anyway and you'll give it later, then what the hell do you want to give him? A painting? A house? Or a tea set?
- The tea set will be a pointless gift, since no one goes to it except me and will not go, maybe Richard, but there is a separate mug for him, but this is also unlikely.
"Damn, isn't he lonely out there alone?"
"For a devout Catholic from a church orphanage, you mention the lower form of a demon too often, don't you think?"
- Damn it.
This is caused by Colin's laughter, and he throws back his head and snorts, wrinkling his nose. Damian grins at his own words and the answer to them, so he quickly hides his smile behind a black scarf tied around his neck, realizing that the other boy has most likely already seen an unnecessary emotion on his face.
- But seriously, what, there are no ideas at all? Like, isn't he into something besides reading, cooking, and splitting the kneecaps of criminals?
Damian thought about it, and then sighed and waved his head.
- He's watching the Sanrio universe and he likes Hello Kitty and Cinnamon. He also enjoys watching animated films.
Colin blinked once, and then another.
......I'll pretend I didn't hear it.
There was silence, but it didn't bother them. Everyone was thinking about their own things, but these thoughts were connected by one topic that rested in their heads.
What can I give Jason?
Damian knew Jason perfectly well, almost like himself or even more. He learned his body language, he could understand his emotions just by looking at him, knowing full well that the man hides them behind many stone walls, not wanting to open up, trust or at least just show something. They were similar in this, and it connected them as well as the past together. They knew each other by heart, without needing words to communicate, looks to understand, or even gestures, because they understood everything perfectly without them.
But now, Damian couldn't understand why choosing something special and valuable made him come to a dead end, even though at first he thought he could easily cope with this mission. But no, he was wrong, and it weighed on him. It was important for the boy to give his lover something that he would love as much as Damian loved his ring.
Frowning, he unconsciously reached out with his fingers to the decoration and turned it without removing it, fixing the green stone and patterns to make a circle, and then a few more to the left, and then to the right. This habit appeared quite recently, Damian himself did not notice how he began to twist the ring to the sides, when it found shelter on his finger, and not in a box with other jewelry. This habit calmed him down, giving him a weightless feeling of calm, driving away the grains of creeping anxiety and anger from misunderstanding.
That's what he wanted from a gift to Jason, so that he would feel calm and comforted, looking at what Damian had given him.
- Does he like soft toys?
- Tt, I'd rather rip open my stomach than choose him a huge plush white cat with a red bow and a dress in the children's department.
- Well, no, there's nothing to kill yourself right away.
Damian rubbed the bridge of his nose again, and then entered the door of the store, whose sign read "Gifts for all holidays." Colin followed him in, looking with interest at the products and items on the shelves and showcases for sale.
Nothing bothered the boy. Everything was the same, and it seemed to him that such items could be bought in any store with a difference only in the name of the company, and perhaps the location. It seemed to him that there was nothing worthy of his attention among this junk. Mugs with blunt inscriptions, balloons, jewelry made of unreliable alloy that will peel off in a couple of days, snow balls and piles of unnecessary things that are usually given for different holidays.
But none of what Damian would have wanted.
- Hey, how does he feel about music?
Turning to the voice, the green-eyed man saw a friend standing next to a large record player without a record, he looked old, but he looked like a good worker, once he found his place on the shelves of the store.
- Tt, he loves. But this thing would shatter at the first burst of rage, as would his many radios and telephones.
Colin mumbled sadly, and then began to look at the available objects again, sometimes giggling or showing Damian things with funny names or shapes, as it seemed to him.
They didn't buy anything, but none of the boys despaired, because there was still a whole day ahead and many shops on the streets of Gotham.
Their next destination was a bookstore. No matter how much Damian wanted to find something special, he also wanted to give Jason what he liked, and this thing was books that a man always read when he could, plunging into stories with his head, passing through the whole range of their emotions and feelings. Damian remembered how Jason, after he regained his mind, read to him late at night on missions, so that no living soul would find out about it and inform his mother and grandfather. It was a small book with pictures of a boy with yellow hair, planets and a fox, whom he remembered very vividly and clearly.
"We are responsible for those who have been tamed," was the phrase that Jason uttered in a gentle voice, stroking his head and running through strands of hair with his fingers, covered in dried blood.
Later, Damian found out that the title of this book was "The Little Prince", he found it on the shelves of the estate library, and now it rests on his shelf with things dear to his heart. His father and Richard asked him about it, wondering why this particular book, but the boy just shook his head, not answering them, because he did not want to share his memories related to this small, but so important story for him.
And that's exactly what books meant to Jason, that he could immerse himself in and spend time in peace, without unnecessary thoughts tormenting his soul.
- Damian, look what I found.
He was brought out of his thoughts about Jason by the excited voice of Colin, who was now standing next to him, holding a blue-covered book in his hands.
Taking it from his hands, Damian examined it a little closer, noticing the details of its design, on which a blue-yellow sky and a sea were painted in blurred colors, along the shore of which two black figures - a man and a child - were running. My eyes fell on the title.
"The Story of Loneliness" was the title, written in black letters in a calligraphic handwriting.
Damian did not know the author of the work and had never heard of this book and had not seen anything similar on the shelves of the estate's personal library or the one that Jason had, which made him frown a little, and then turned his gaze to Colin, who put his hands in his pocket and smiled a little shyly. His hand slipped out of the jacket he had just put there and she reached for her mouth, but he managed to pull her back in time.
- This book is quite... specific, I tell you. Have you read Lolita?
Having turned the title over in his head, the boy remembered something similar on his lover's shelves. It stood high, on the very top shelves, and it seemed to Damian that Jason had deliberately placed it so far away, as if hiding it. But not from others, but from himself.
- Ttt, no, I have more important things to do than read literature that does not have strategic moves and thought processes. But I know that Jason has this book. What is the connection between these two works?
Colin fell silent for a moment, trying to formulate the idea of an answer for Damian so that it would sound reasonable and understandable.
- Lolita is quite... specific, they did not want to publish it for a very long time, and then they completely banned it because of the presence of a little... well... non-traditional specificity of relationships in it.
Damian stared into Colin's eyes, making it clear that this was not the answer he needed.
-Fuck, it's about pedophilia. A man fell in love with his mistress's daughter or whatever she was to him, I don't remember anymore. But the point is that everything is shown from the point of view of this main character, who is in love with Lolita and this is, frankly speaking, complete fucking bullshit. There, to be honest, it's not a plot but a whole tragedy.
-And what connection does Lolita have with The History of Loneliness?
-The History of Loneliness raises the topic of pedophilia by Catholic churches, or rather the corruption of children by priests who went to cathedrals and could not tell anyone about what the holy people did to them. There, the main character is an ordinary person, but he was subjected to the wrath of people for the actions of those who were engaged in corruption because he was simply a minister of the church. There is a lot of introspection, guilt, themes of faith and people's deeds and much more.
By the end of the story, the red-haired man had quieted down and still stuck the tip of his finger in his mouth from nerves, looking at the book in his tanned hands with some kind of sadness in his eyes that Damian couldn't understand.
Looking at the book again, the boy squeezed it a little tighter, conflicting feelings began to rush around in his soul that he couldn't understand.
On the one hand, this book would cause Jason great pain from reading and understanding the whole situation that was happening on the pages and in their own lives, because the peace that the man had achieved at that time was very fragile, and Damian was afraid that it could collapse like a house of cards from any breath, which this ill-fated book could become. Damian was well aware of his lover's past. He had thought a thousand times about the cruel torture of those who had caused him such pain, leaving a mark on Jason's soul.
But on the other, more tender side, Damian understands that Jason would want to read it, would want to think about it all, to penetrate the depths of the written lines and feel the written plot, based on real events that were so familiar to him, under his own skin. This book could both damage his soul and make Jason think and, perhaps, rethink many things in his life and past.
Sighing, Damian put the book in the basket and looked at Colin again, in whose eyes one could read the understanding of what choice the green-eyed man had just made, and he nodded in agreement and approval of this act.
The book was wrapped in a white bag, a gift from the store for the purchase, and now rested in Damian's bag, in which his other things are.
- How do you know about this book? When Damian asked this, Colin paused for a second, then ran his hand through his slightly dirty red hair and grinned nervously, looking away so that his gaze would fall anywhere but on his friend. Damian watched his behavior closely, noticing the details of uncertainty and nervousness throughout his body as soon as the words left his lips, causing a reaction that, frankly speaking, the green-eyed one did not really like.
After a couple of seconds, Colin sighed and finally looked into Damian's eyes.
- One of the old caregivers at the orphanage gave it to me about a year ago, so I read it at my leisure.
- Ttt, do caregivers give such literature to children? Especially in a Catholic orphanage, and according to your description, the deeds of the people from the book were committed in places that glorified Catholicism. And this topic, as I remember from some of your comments, is disgusting to you and you try to avoid it. - Damian, can we drop this topic? .....please...
The last words were said a little more quietly, and the boy bowed his head and hid part of his face behind the high collar of his jacket, looking down. His hands were hidden in his pockets again, but it didn’t take a detective to see how Colin was squeezing them with such force that it was possible that crescent-shaped marks would be left on his pale skin.
- One of the old orphanage teachers gave it to me about a year ago, so I read it at my leisure.
- Tt, do educators give such literature to children? Especially in a Catholic orphanage, and according to your description, the deeds of the people from the book were done just the same in places that glorified Catholicism. And this topic, as I remember from some of your comments, is disgusting to you and you try to avoid it.
- Damian, can we close this topic? ..... Please...
The last words were said a little quieter, and the boy bent his head and hid part of his face behind the high collar of his jacket, looking down. His hands went back into his pockets, but he didn't need to be a detective to see how Colin was squeezing them so hard that they might leave marks on his pale crescent-shaped skin.
Damian felt a little guilty about making Colin feel bad. He didn't want that, he just wanted to know why this book was causing such a reaction in his friend and the boy couldn't understand the connection, even if he was trying to put the pieces of the puzzle in his head.
Maybe he should ask Jason for advice sometime.
A minute passed in silence, Damian nervously twisted the ring three times, and then sighed, trying to relax his shoulders.
- Come on, I'm hungry.
- Eh? But now is not the time, you usually eat at 12.
- Tt, but I want it now.
And the green-eyed man walked briskly towards the first diner that caught his eye, speeding up his pace and trying to look casual. Colin is behind him again practically running after a friend, not understanding the sharp cause of hunger, remembering perfectly well that Damian has a meal schedule, and in his memory 10 a.m. was definitely not there.
The warm air of the room and the smells of food hit both of them, forcing them to shiver and quickly go inside and stand in a small queue of several sleepy people, whose appearance made it clear that they either wanted to die or coffee.
Damian began to read the menu on the sign, getting more and more upset about the amount of meat food, until he came across a green burger, which included vegetables and a vegetable patty. Colin stood next to him, already resigned to his fate of what Damian always doesn't pay for.
Always.
At first, green-eyed remembered how inconvenient it was for his friend and how he asked at least to split the bills or pay for his order himself, even when he had money. But Damian flatly refused and simply did not listen to him, without asking, just putting the card, after which the sound of paying for the purchase was made and left without looking back. Damian sincerely did not understand why Colin still felt uncomfortable because he paid for everything during their walks, because he was better off, although when he talked about it with his fathers, expressing his bewilderment after the meeting, he simply smiled and said that he was a good friend. Now Damian can understand the essence of his father's words, because most people at school and at events only want money from him and get into popular tops or something else related to connections and fame. But not Colin. He does not ask Damian for money, does not beg him to buy something or take him somewhere to a five-star restaurant and other expensive places. Colin was there....Just Colin.
And it is for this reason that he, Damian Al Ghul Wayne, is now sitting on a bench in the park and eating his food on the street, surrounded by a couple of pigeons and crows.
If Jason could see him now, he would die laughing. Again.
The thought of a man made his stomach clench. They will meet today, and Damian realizes that even though it hasn't been many days, he missed the elder as if years of their separation had passed. Sometimes he thought about what would have happened if they had lived together like in the League. Would it be exactly the same? Or has a small detail of the mechanism of their relationship changed its direction? He didn't know it, but the idea of living together lurked in his brain and sometimes surfaced during sleepless nights, thinking about the past and the future, which merged together by dawn.
Sometimes he wondered what it would be like not to hide his feelings for his lover from the whole world, or the possibility of not hiding at least the fact that they were talking in secret from everyone, and not just at rare family dinners or while on patrol.
This way of thinking reinforced his current search goal. After all, it was unknown when they would be able to meet alone again.
Colin, who was sitting next to him, jerked his head up and looked at Damian.
- What about the cross? He is also a Catholic, you can give him a cross.
Damian thought about this suggestion, but in the end only shook his head in denial.
- no. Jason has a cross, and according to my knowledge and observations, it is very dear to him, and therefore he will not want to change it to some other one.
- Hmm, it's even interesting.... Say that...What did you say? It's true?...Well, about how he prays and....everything else?
The voice sounded quiet and uncertain, I'm afraid that they might be heard.
-Tt, unfortunately yes, or do you think that I would lie about it?
-No, of course, just.... damn ...
Colin sighed and rubbed his face with his hand, covering his eyes for a couple of seconds, and after taking a deep breath, continued.
- Damian, to be honest, this is not normal. I understand that your whole family has a bit of a problem. But it was with Jason...it's difficult.... It's very difficult.
- Faith is a difficult thing, but even I can understand that what he is doing is wrong.
Damian hates Jason's faith as much as he loves the man himself. If he could, he would set fire to all the cathedrals, smash all the stained glass windows and break every cross he could find, if only his beloved would not inflict such intense, bloody and desired pain on himself.
- Faith....It's not for everyone. Each person has their own understanding of the Lord and his deeds, as well as what a person is and what we do.
- I don't believe in God.
- But he still loves us.
The boy had already heard these words. A long time ago, before Batman, before Robin and all that is happening to him now. He still remembers the night and Jason kneeling and praying, while holding a cross in his hands. Damian doesn't believe in God and that he thinks he's stupid, since he was ready to get down on his knees for someone he'd never seen and someone who would never answer him, and Jason said that He would love him anyway, no matter what, if we were all his children.
And this is nonsense. The most real, whatever is the ravings of a madman.
But then why is he so sure that something loves him unconditionally, no matter what he is, no matter what he does. Why did Jason believe in this damned love with all his soul, but he couldn't believe that Damian loved him just as much, just as desired, ready to forgive him for any of his deeds, not condemn him for his misdeeds and love with all his heart, which he held in open palms for him?
It wasn't fair.
Damian clenched his fists tightly and took a breath through his teeth.
"Why can't he believe that I love him just as much as his damn God?"
The words were full of bitterness and resentment that had been lurking inside all this time, eating him, turning him over and making him feel as if his whole body ached and ached.
- I do not know Damian....I don't know.
There was a silence between the two friends.
Damian sighed and closed his eyes again, and then looked at Colin.
- Tell me...Why don't you condemn my relationship with Jason? I know your opinion and thoughts about this....So why?
This question tormented Damian sometimes, because after confessing to his best friend, which passed very calmly, he could not get it out of his head. The misunderstanding of how Colin could calmly approve of this kind of relationship simply did not fit into his head to this day. And it was only now that he decided to ask him.
Colin was silent for a while, and then sighs and closes his eyes, which he immediately opens and looks straight at Damian with determination.
- Are you happy with him?
This was not what he had expected to hear, not at all.
But Damian knew the answer as clearly as he knew his feelings for Jason. Therefore, there was only one answer.
- Yes, Jason is the one who makes me happy and alive.
Colin continued to look into Damian's eyes, but the gaze after the words were said was replaced by a gentle, understanding look, the kind that he sometimes saw from his lover or other close people.
It made his heart burn.
- That's exactly why Damian.
And they fell into silence again.
Damian does not know how much time has passed, and how long they sat in this state in silence, but it was enough to calm the anger and disbelief in the soul that arose from this conversation.
Sighing, he got up from the bench and looked at Colin, made it clear that they were going on to look for a gift. The boy understood without words what his friend meant and, too, getting up, they headed for the street, which was filled with shops of various firms and brands selling "everything" that their hearts desired.
The conversation started by itself, and both friends no longer paid attention to what had happened quite recently, which made them both upset. But now, talking about the birds, the days spent and still going over the gift options, they felt much better, feeling the spreading calm and warmth in their chest.
Time flew by imperceptibly, and the number of shops visited grew, as did the number of purchases stacked in the bag, which made Damian wonder if he had enough space, or maybe he should buy another one, but more to accommodate everything that was swept off the shelves. And that's exactly how it turned out: eight different iron bookmarks with chains that attracted his attention, knowing that Jason liked them more than paper ones, since they could spoil. Then there was a bag with an apron, which he spent about an hour buying because of doubts, but Colin was able to persuade him, and therefore he is now resting at the bottom of the bag. The apron was big, and therefore it would have sat well on Jason's toned body, with thick ties and a deep pocket in the front for putting something there. The thing itself was a pleasant shade of green (Colin snorted at the chosen color, noting that it was very possessive, and Damian did not deny it). And he still bought a cup and saucer (again because of Colin, who continued to show him things that would suit Jason and would like the elder), they were made of white and red porcelain, and it somewhat resembled blood in milk, which slowly spreads inside, leaving streaks of unknown shapes.
She was beautiful, and Damian does not regret that he bought her, although he understood that perhaps his lover would not use her so often.
The next gift was a small round mirror, something like a compact that closes. This gift was.... he was very argumentative on the one hand, but on the other hand there was a high probability that Jason would smash him at the first tantrum of anger against the corner.
Jason didn't like mirrors, Damian had seen many times how a man smashed them against something, or with his bare hands destroyed their delicate structure, just not to see his own reflection, fearing and hating what he would see there. That's why most of his fake houses didn't have mirrors, even if he needed them to help him sew up and treat wounds.
Damian decided that giving Jason a small mirror that could be closed, and it would be difficult to see himself, would be at least a little more useful.
And it was with one of his favorite characters, if only he dared to break it, he would then feed this glass to him for breakfast.
The last thing he bought was a keychain and a lighter. Damian doesn't know how it happened, most likely because of Colin's attacks and the fact that the boy himself watched the cartoon that Jason liked so much, and that's why right now he's holding a keychain with a winking Keroppy frog on a chain (he secretly likes him) and a lighter in the shape of a pink Melody rabbit which was a delicate pink color, vaguely the boy remembered that the elder had such a T-shirt.
These two things were spontaneous, he Damian was absolutely sure that Jason would like them and cheer up, which is what the boy was counting on.
That's all he bought Jason, but none of it was what he really wanted for his lover. It was all there.... ordinary, unremarkable and insignificant. But it was already three o'clock in the afternoon, and they went around more than twenty-three shops with various gifts and things, they also managed to have a snack and hit the road again.
Now they were walking along the road of a completely different area, which Damian had never visited because of his reluctance to go out to ordinary people, and even more unnecessarily.
The time was approaching when he already had to go to Jason, and he still didn't have a gift.
Damian could feel himself straining more and more with each step, feeling an unpleasant knot in his stomach and a lump in his throat, from which he had to swallow and clench his hands into fists in order for the unpleasant sensations to go away at least a little. It annoyed him how emotional he had become during this time, how many new feelings he was experiencing without hiding behind a cold, stony mask in front of others. Sometimes it still scares him, even if he knew these people and trusted them, he didn't want his feelings to be on full display in front of them.
These thoughts swirled in her head, making her temples ache a little.
Colin seemed to notice that Damian had become more nervous, so he sighed and looked around, looking for at least something where they could look for a gift for Jason.
And then his gaze caught on a small display case decorated with white, and something clicked in his head.
- Damian, let's go there!
And without hesitation, grabbing his friend by the elbow, he dragged him to the pure white doors, above which a little angel with a bell was laughing, which rang as soon as the tree touched and disturbed him.
The smells of lavender, roses and other herbs that were used for incense or aromatic oils and candles hit my nose, although even through them you could feel dust and a slight mustiness, as if the room had not been cleaned for quite a long time.
Damian looked back and froze, trying to figure out where Colin had taken him.
The boy standing next to him smiled mischievously, as if he had not brought him to this place.
A shop shrouded in icons, crosses and bibles.
For a moment it seemed that he felt sick at the thought, so he closed his eyes and sighed heavily, massaging the bridge of his nose, and then looked back again, as if it was just a terrible dream, and it would pass as soon as Damian opened his eyes again.
There were various church-themed items around, although the shop was small, everything was in its place. Next to Damian was a shelf with books, which he did not pay attention to on principle and therefore ignored.
After walking a little further, he came across a wall hung with crosses and crucifixes, and if he hadn't known that he was in the store, he would definitely have thought that a madman from films about possession and demons, which Drake and Jason loved to watch so much, and from which Richard could not sleep properly afterwards, lived here and twitched for a couple more days.
But that wall interested him a little, because Colin was standing next to it and curiously looked at crosses of various sizes, shapes and colors hanging on chains (he didn't know if it was right to call it a chain, since there were beads for prayers, but he didn't care).
- TT, did you like something?
Apparently, Colin was very thoughtful, looking at one of the crosses, as the boy was startled by Damian's voice and looked at him in surprise. The shoulders that had been tense from a sharp fright just a second ago dropped, making it clear that the red-haired man had calmed down.
Colin smiled and looked at the same cross he was examining.
- Something like that.
He looked at the hanging ornament, Damian could understand what the boy was looking at. There, on one of the thousand nails hung a cross, not as remarkable as the others, because the beads that decorated it were not bright and colorful.
On the contrary, the decoration was dull, white, as if there was fog inside these small beads, and in the middle there were reflections of cloudy multicolored flowers. The chain wasn't long, but it wasn't short either, and in the middle was a small icon of a woman that Damian could recognize as the Virgin Mary, from which the same misty beads ran down. At the bottom hung a cross made of silver, with rounded sides like flower petals, and in the very middle hung Jesus with his head bowed.
He was really beautiful, Damian could recognize the beauty of a handmade product made with a soul, and this cross was proof of that.
Colin turned away from him and looked at Damian.
- Well, did you find anything here?
- Tt, I think a few candles and incense won't hurt, in my memory Jason has them, as well as an incense burner, so they will go well with the rest of the gift.
While saying this, Damian headed towards the table, which was filled with candles of various sizes, shapes and smells. There were those that had the shape of animals, which Damian immediately rejected, as well as the shapes of people, crosses or birds. But he didn't like all this, which is why the boy just clicked and put three candles in the shape of flowers in the basket: lotus, rose and sunflower, which has a delicate color and smells.
After looking around the table, he took a long box of incense of different scents, and after thinking about it, threw in another one, but this time the one that was purely citrus.
Colin, standing next to him, grinned at this, and then screamed when the fist "lightly" hit his hand.
- Damian, are you angry, so what, did you laugh? Something to beat right away, sadistic shit.
- Tt, I know you very well, and your way of thinking is too simple for me, and that's why I'm telling you - none of what you thought is wrong.
- Yeah? That is, a box of citrus incense has nothing to do with the fact that you use the same shampoos and soap OH!!!!
Damian forcefully pinched Colin's bare arm, squeezing and twisting with force, as Jason had taught him. It was a dirty trick, but it worked to shut people up.
Colin tried to free himself, but nothing came out, which is why he apologized profusely and begged to let him go until Damian tore off a piece of his skin.
Both knew perfectly well that the pinch was very light and not painful for the red-haired boy.
A smile played on his face, making him feel the heaviness in his body receding, which had accumulated in a short time.
Looking around again to look for a salesman who might kick them out because of the noise they made, his gaze caught on the shelves with statuettes.
And he saw her.
Damian felt himself freeze for a moment.
Releasing Colin, he walked quickly to the shelves filled with various products, Damian reached out and took the statuette, which he noticed quite by accident.
It was of medium size, even larger than his two palms together, and its weight settled pleasantly, making it clear that the material from which it was made was not fake or drywall, but the most real, cold marble, carved into what Damian was holding now.
Broken steps, part of the altar, all battered, covered with cracks and ivy, growing on top of a destroyed column, broken off from above and a small bird sitting on top of it. And there, on the stairs covered with grass and flowers, lay a girl wrapped in a mantle with broken, stripped wings that hung from her young body, unable to rise again. An outstretched, thin hand reached out to the cross standing in the middle, on which Jesus himself was crucified in all his appearance. The whole carving was so detailed, so detailed, that Damian could see every feather on the wings, every leaf on the ivy and every thorn on the crown of thorns, every little flower and blade of grass.
Damian could see a tear running down the girl's cold, lifeless marble face, which expressed the most genuine, purest sadness and sorrow that the boy had ever seen.
Holding this statuette in his hands, Damian couldn't figure out what he was feeling, looking right at her.
But one thing he knew for sure was that this was what Damian had been looking for all day.
Who would have thought that the boy would find the desired gift in the most disgusting place for him?
Colin's voice sounded nearby, and he hung up.
- Wow, she looks great.
- Yes.....
And without thinking twice, Damian headed to the cash register, where an elderly old woman was sitting and squinting at the two boys the whole time, suspecting something.
Having put everything he chose on the cash register, he began to look forward to the time when he could get this statuette.
- Boy, these expensive things, do you really have enough money for all this?
- Tt, it's none of your business madam, just make a purchase and that's it.
- What kind of young people went, God forbid.
The woman grumbled as she punched through the goods, still glancing at Damian and Colin as if they had recently burned down half the city by hand. But the green-eyed boy tried not to pay attention to this, all that worried him now was the purchase, and not the nagging of an old woman with paranoia, from whose look it was possible to understand that she would burn Colin at the stake for red hair, and Damian because of the color of her skin was generally mistaken for a terrorist.
After leaving the stuffy room, Damian took a deep breath and looked at the already slightly darkened sky of the city.
- Well? Are you happy?
After a short silence, Damian grinned and looked at Colin, who had his hands in his pockets and was smiling broadly.
...Yes.
- That's great!
The boy nudged Damian with his shoulder in approval.
- Then, here we say goodbye, it's time for me to go home, and for you to fly on the wings of love to your lover.
Colin wiggled his eyebrows and laughed, and then dodged a blow to his arm, bouncing a good half meter away from Damian, whose face showed quite imperceptible embarrassment.
- Tt, don't be silly.
- Well, what about it? I can see how you want to go to him! Come on Damian, don't deny the obvious!
- I'm not denying it, it's just that you're talking madness and completely senseless heresy. I refuse to have any connection with you from now on.
- Yes, yes, and then I'll change my color to black. Don't be silly, otherwise the wrinkles will get even bigger.
And with these words, the red-haired boy smiled and waved, turned around and walked in the opposite direction.
- See you later! Be sure to call and tell me how it went!
Damian stared after the departing figure for a while with a strange feeling inside.
No, not weird.
It was a joy. The most real and sincere, which happened very rarely for him, but still, he felt it with his fingertips and a rapidly pounding heart.
He was alive, and he was happy.
**
It didn't take long to get to Jason's apartment, he had to walk only two blocks before he found himself in front of a familiar door without a bell, which was stuffed with traps of different levels and difficulties.
It was a good thing that Damian had a key, given by a man in order to safely enter and exit.
Without bothering to knock, the boy puts the key in the lock and, after making two turns, pulls the handle, opening the apartment, from which even warm air was coming from a small crack. Once inside, Damian takes off his scarf, and then his jacket, which he hangs on a hanger in the hallway. Shoes stand under the hanger smoothly, as if under a ruler, an old habit since the days of the league.
The apartment was warm, but the boy notes a light layer of dust on the surface and debris in the corners.
Although Jason was cold, he hated the cold with all his soul, not wanting to be in it for a minute if possible, which is why the man always had warm clothes, hot water bottles and other warming items that were in all his apartments. Damian himself loved warmth more, because the boy grew up in a country where the sun was scorching most of the time, and he could only see snow on assignments.
There was a noise from the room, and then the door opens and a sleepy Jason comes out of it, blinking owlishly and trying to hold back a yawn, hiding it behind his open palm.
The man was asleep before his arrival, and this did not surprise Damian, because broken sleep patterns have been a problem for bats and birds for a very long time.
Jason yawns again and, without saying anything, goes to the couch, which he almost falls on while sitting down.
All this time, Damian is watching the elder closely, examining the protruding black, unwashed hair with white strands, which now stood out even more and which looked more like a nest, a large pajama black T-shirt did not fit his body (Jason did not like when something squeezes or tightens him in a dream) and the drawing on it crumpled, which caused the cartoon black-and-white dog to be slightly flattened, its sleeves barely reached to the elbows, from which the boy could perfectly see pale hands on which something red flashed. He wasn't wearing any pants, only red underpants that emphasized his large, wide, scarred thighs.
Damian involuntarily gulped and turned away, went to the kitchen, poured himself milk, taking it out of the refrigerator, replaying in his head everything that he saw in front of him now.
Taking a deep breath, not understanding where the nervousness came from, the boy went to the sofa and sat down next to his lover, opened the shopping bag.
- I bought you a present.
Right in the forehead. Damian didn't like all these foreplay, deciding to get straight to the point to see Jason's reaction.
- Mmmm? Yes? And what did I do to deserve it, all I remember is a fight with Bruce and an endless lecture about my irresponsibility.
His voice was hoarse from long sleep and smoking, but still quieter than usual.
Damian clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes at the drama, perfectly remembering the last conversation between the man and his father, which did not end well.
But he didn't want to think about it now, so he held out the bag, placing it on Jason's lap, hinting that he would start opening it.
- I decided to give you a gift that would mean a lot to you. Just like the ring you gave me, I wanted to find something that would make as much sense to you as it did to me.
While Damian was saying this, Jason had already taken out a mirror and was twirling it in his hands with a squint in his eyes.
- That's very sweet of you, little bird, but it wasn't necessary.
He put down the mirror and took out a keychain. The man grinned at him and brought him closer to his face to take a closer look.
- Tt, I know this without your reminders....but I wanted to do it, and you can't say it wasn't necessary. Especially when I spent the whole day doing it.
Jason snorted and took out a cup and saucer.
- Really? Do you want me to organize a Victorian tea club or something like that?
Damian rolled his eyes at this comment, not taking it personally, knowing full well how Jason reacts to gifts. Although the smile on his face said a lot.
Taking out candles and incense, the man was a little surprised, and then sniffed each of them, closing his eyes and humming something to himself. Because of these items, the entire bag was filled with the smells of flowers, and now the smell was bursting out, enveloping the hall slowly but surely absorbing everything else.
Damian wrinkled his nose. Even though so many years had passed, he could not enjoy these smells in the same way as the older man, although they were not particularly annoying. He just didn't like them, that's all.
But Jason really liked the campaign, as he sniffed each of them, and then put them on the table in front of the sofa, putting the candle with the sunflower a little to the left, making a mental note to light it tonight.
And so Damian feels his heart skip a beat when Jason takes out the box with the statuette and opens it.
For some reason, the boy fixed his gaze on the floor, not wanting to see the expression on his lover's face when he hears him stop breathing for a moment.
- Damian....
The statuette in his hands looked as if it had been in its place since the very beginning of its creation. It was as if she had been created for Jason and no one else. His big, calloused and scarred hands held her so tenderly, as if he was afraid not to hold, but even to breathe was scary.
Sighing, Damian still looked into his lover's face and felt his stomach give up when he noticed how the man's eyes turned treacherously red around the edges.
He stared at the statuette as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing and holding in front of him. It's as if he can't figure out if this is a dream, which again looked so realistic that it scared him to shudder, or if this is the real reality.
Jason swallows and puts her on the table with shaking hands, not taking his eyes off, but his hand reached out to the cross on his neck, squeezing it with his palm.
They were both silent. Damian had nothing to say for it, and Jason just didn't know what exactly he should say.
And then the boy feels a hand lying on top of his own hand, squeezing it and interlacing his fingers with each other.
- Thank you...
the voice was quiet, completely different from the one that usually sounded from his mouth. But still, he was as close as anything related to the man in front of him.
Damian grins, and then squeezes his clasped hands tighter and with one jerk sits on top of Jason, feeling his hips under him. Looking down at those toxic, green, but dead eyes, in which fatigue and sadness rested, and the redness still threatened to become something more, standing out on a pale, almost white face, the boy gently touches with his lips someone else's, just as cold and cracked.
The free hand finds the one that held the cross and squeezes it, making it clear to the man that everything is fine.
He understood.
Damian hears his own heart beating, but the silence of someone else's chest settles into ashes that the boy could feel on someone else's lips.
He didn't know if Jason had eaten at all today, or how many times he got out of bed, and how he felt and felt before that. It all made his heart ache for a man who sometimes just didn't know how to live.
The thumb of a calloused alien hand gently touches the jewelry on his finger, tracing the very tip of the pad along the engraving, outlining each hollow and recess.
Jason pulls away from the childish, slightly plump lips, but not by much, just a centimeter, continuing to look into the already open eyes and stroke the finger in the ring. Damian could see that Jason missed him too, even through dead eyes, and now, in such a shattered mental state, he still looks at Damian like stars.
He knows it's not Jason's fault for what's going on right now. He doesn't blame himself for coming at this moment and disturbing the elder, knowing full well how vulnerable Jason becomes on such days.
The boy sighs and touches his lips lightly once more, puts his head between his shoulder and neck, closing his eyes and feeling all the fatigue of the day that decided to fall on his shoulders.
Arms wrapped around him, holding his waist and pushing his small body closer to his chest, from which he could now feel the cold even more, and kissing the top of his head with his eyes closed.
The lover's heart was still not beating.
But Damian was calmer than he had ever been before.
Damian knew that Jason was difficult, that he was unstable, and his psyche had suffered so much that he would have been a gold mine for any psychiatrist in a psychiatric hospital. And he understood that. The burning rage that gave way to cold indifference, which in turn became bloody sadness, were uncontrollable some days. Damian knew the routine as clearly as he had many years ago, it was ingrained in him, imprinted on the cortex of the brain and the retina of the eyes, not letting him forget.
Pulling away one hand that was clutching someone else's, which rested on a cross. Damian gently began to run his fingertips all over his lover's hand, not missing a single scar, counting each of them to himself, recognizing each one that rested on the icy skin.
Everything was fine now, even if his fingers were digging into the dried crust of a recent wound that shouldn't have been there.
But it was all right, because now he was here and Damian could feel his heart beating for both of them.
He hates everything that has to do with faith. He hates baptism. He hates prayers. He hates crosses and churches.
He hates that his lover is hurting himself.
He hates God.
But if it makes Jason happy, then I'm willing to put up with it a little more.