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Two years. It has been two years since Damian had met you, and one year and 2 months since he asked to court you. Damian was never really sure what kind of girl he wanted, never considered it a priority on his ever growing to-do list. He thought that between helping Gotham, maintaining his grades in college (not like that was ever hard), attending to his family's needs, socializing with friends - he would be able to envision the type of girl he dreamed of having.
Girls came and went but none were able to sweep him off his feet like you had; the goofy girl with the sweetest smile and the prettiest jeweled eyes, reflecting the birth and beauty of a compressed universe that threatened to explode with the intensity of it all in a matter of seconds. You were a ray of absolute sunbeams that continued to sucker punch him whenever he walked past, effectively taking his breath away and forcing the blood to swim its way to his face.
It took him eight months to summon the courage to ask you out on a date since bravery seemed to be yet another thing you giddily snatched from him, and surprisingly you said yes. Even more surprising, you continued to stick around him and confess to the same indulgent feeling he was drowning in. You were like the sweet raspberry to his decadent dark chocolate. While both were inherently good on their own, they were better paired together.
It took him a few more months after that to reveal his secret identity as Robin, thus revealing his whole family’s night time activities. He knew that it was risky, knew the plethora of mishappenings that could occur once he told you, but he hoped and trusted that you would love him with the same passion despite all the doubts and concerns raised by his father. Besides, you were already becoming suspicious of his sudden disappearances during the night and he was tired of you assuming he was a vampire or werewolf.
The diamond encrusted stare you gave him upon being told blew him away with the vigor of a fierce storm. It was a look of pure awe, of pure adoration, one of which he had never been the recipient of and it had sent waves of shivers through his body.
“You risk your life everyday just to protect this city?” You had whispered in a tone that resembled disbelief. It was the type of tone that he would have to lean in and make a conscious effort to hear. “That is the coolest thing ever, I am so proud of you.”
Those words echoed in his mind during patrol ever since. Of course, Damian never was the type to need reassurance since he was increasingly confident in his skills, but somehow his heart held onto your words with a steel grip.
Every night, Damian would visit you after patrol after your insistence that you wouldn’t be able to sleep until you knew he was not severely hurt. Although Damian was opposed to you staying up late, at the end of the day he could never deny you.
The night was like any other and the lack of crime surprisingly bored Damian. Hours stretched on longer than he liked and the only thing that prevented him from passing out mid-swing was your grinning face washing away any bouts of negativity consuming him. A familiar warmth spread throughout his body as he spotted your frame leaning against the balcony of your apartment, head tilted towards the glittering constellations as if you could translate the secrets of the vast sky.
He couldn’t be bothered to look up at the sky - how could he? No galaxy or universe could contain the beauty of your radiance, the brightest star intricately carved into his soul.
Then your eyes met the moment he landed on the balcony and the intensity of the gaze made him falter, allowing him to become alarmed when you tackled him. “You’re here earlier! Did you miss me that much?”
Your laughter filled the air and he would have sworn his heart stopped at that exact moment. It always did, really. He wrapped his arms around your smaller body. “Is it wrong of me to miss the love of my life?” He asked indignantly.
He noticed the way you shivered as you nuzzled into the crook of his neck. “You know I don’t like it when you are out in the cold waiting for me like this, Habibti. I would rather see you in bed where you are warm.”
“I know, but the stars are so pretty.” You looked up at him, a smirk plastered from ear to ear. “Buuuut~ if you wanted to see me in bed so badly you could have just asked, Dami.”
Jesus Christ, you were going to be the end of him.
You were so impossibly attractive, managing to make him uncomfortable in the most heavenly way possible. Like a quagmire, you threatened to effortlessly consume him whole. He pressed you closer to him so he could kiss you properly, hands tangling in each other's hair. When you slightly parted your lips, he didn’t hesitate to deepen the kiss, choosing to nibble on your bottom lip until you mewled, back slightly arching. Breath became secondary to the fireworks erupting in his core every time your lips connected, dissipating the moment you broke away.
The two of you were fully enraptured by each other that time generously and quickly reprieved, allowing Damian to engrave this perfect moment and the events after into his mind.
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You woke up to the sound of the sweetly tuned alarm, sitting up with a heavy groan, rubbing the crust away from your eyes. By your side was a shirtless Damian raveled up in the mess of blankets, and for a moment you were able to enjoy the lack of tension in his face; it was pleasant to see him so calm for once. You were able to appreciate the sharp edges of his jaw and the pointed arrow of his cupid’s bow, the way his lips were tugged in a subtle smile. It was hilarious how a man with such sharp features ended up being the hugest softy you knew.
It wasn’t often that you woke up before your boyfriend, so you were about to seize the opportunity to pepper him with kisses until he woke, only for the buzzing of your phone to tug you out of your thoughts. Usually you would have ignored the text message or notification, but your phone kept buzzing to the point where it almost became a singular buzz.
Worried of the possibility that something horrible was occurring, you frantically grasped your phone to see what was going on. Your eyes widened. There was an onslaught of messages on just about every messaging app you ever downloaded - discord, instagram, even a few on apps that were long defunct - from anyone you had ever talked to. As you scrolled further and further down the notifications, you found a single commonality between all of them.
You decided to open up the messages from your mother first and you were immediately confronted with a blurry picture that you assumed she had taken on her TV tuned to the local news station, she never was the type to be tech savvy anyhow. Squinting your eyes, you could barely make out your form standing on the balcony, lip locked with the ever famous Protector of Gotham. Last night - dear god - it was a picture from last night.
Below the message, along with all the other messages you received, you were asked: Are you and Robin dating?!?? and How the hell did you manage to seduce the man?!?!
A deep scarlet creeped up your face as you read more of the messages. You had never been under the blinding spotlight of Gotham’s scrutinizing gaze, and already the pressure seemed a little too much to bear. Damian was a private man and it took a while to understand his insistence on keeping the relationship private, but despite seeing that privacy was a luxury in his family, you wouldn’t lie and say that the specific aspect did not haunt your foulest of dreams.
The picture must have been taken from a reporter who followed Robin and immediately sold the picture to make a quick buck, and now you were scrambling to find a way to explain to your beloved family how you knew this mystery man without revealing to them that you are in a relationship with a billionaire’s son.
Damian must have sensed your embarrassment since he began to shuffle around in bed until his eyes slowly peered back at you. The way he stared at you with those intense forest eyes…it made you squirm in your seat from the sheer devotion.
“Habibti…darling…what’s wrong?” He pulled himself up, muscles straining against his tanned skin, and as his arms curled around your torso, you breathed in the faint scent of parchment and amber.
“My…my family is wondering how I was able to seduce Robin.” You aired out a light, awkward, chuckle as you showed him the crappy photo.
Damian’s eyes twisted in confusion (so long for his peacefulness), traveling down to look at the photo. There was a duality with Damian and with situations such as these, you were never sure if he would act upon his arrogance or his underlying worry to be perfect. Judging from the way his lips twisted into a smirk, though, told you that his arrogance was in charge.
Before you could utter any form of protest, Damian snatched the phone away from your grasp, beginning to scroll through the countless messages and posts. “I don’t see what the matter is, Beloved.”
“Y-you don’t see the problem?” You squeaked. “Dami, my family and friend’s now assume I am in a relationship with Robin! What am I supposed to say?”
“That you are in a relationship with Robin, obviously.” He flashed his iconic grin, eyes narrowed to thin leaves. “Are you not?”
It was almost impossible to speak when Damian stared at you so intensely, like you were his breath, like you were his heartbeat. “I-I am…but I don’t love Robin as much as I love you.”
All the air left your lungs. You didn’t mean to expose yourself to him like that, to say something so completely disrespectful. Your hand covered your mouth, and, for a moment, you closed your eyes and waited for the regret to wash away. Damian’s hand cupped your cheek hesitantly, forcing you to look at him. The smirk faded away, replaced with a tenderness that tugged on the chords of your heart.
“Whatever do you mean, Habibti?” His tone alluded to him being more curious than annoyed, more flustered than upset, more soft than rigid.
“I mean, it’s no secret that you have numerous personas. You jump from being Robin to Damian Wayne to whoever else people want you to be.” You mumbled with a smile, cupping his smooth face in your hands. “But Dami, my Dami? I love him the most because he is the most true. He is perfectly imperfect and impossibly and frustratingly mine.”
You pecked his nose, noticing the way it twitched slightly. “You trusted me enough to become vulnerable with me…that’s why I love Dami the most.”
As you pulled away, you could see the rose color dusted on your boyfriend’s face, a look of disbelief etched into his features. There was a brief pause, silence echoing throughout the room that was temporarily broken with the persistent buzzing of your phone. Damian looked down at the phone again, and smiled. No - he grinned.
It had been a while since you got him to grin like that. It was the type of smile that could make thousands throw themselves onto their knees, the type of smile that vanquished the darkness lying hidden in the crevices of one’s heart, a smile that rivaled a moth’s love for flame.
“I don’t think anyone…has said that to me before.” He turned his gaze to the floor, the tips of his ears flushed a bright red. “I love you, Habibti…I…I am afraid my words are failing me…”
You couldn’t help but giggle at his flustered state. Reaching for his hand once more, you went in to kiss him properly.
“I am yours, Damian. I hope you remember that.” You whispered softly after you pulled away.
Any softness Damian showed in that moment quickly disappeared as his casual smirk reappeared. “I’m quite certain I won’t forget now, seeing as our little makeout session is plastered everywhere.”
Blankets were shuffled around and within a few seconds, Damian was suddenly on top of you and painting splotches of red on your neck. His hair tickled against your nose, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to laugh or mewl.
“I wonder what people would think if you walked around with my marks on your neck…” He husked. “Perhaps they would stop looking at you as if you weren’t taken.”
“Damian, they don’t know I am taken. They don’t know I am yours.” You reasoned, his mouth now latched onto the more sensitive side of your neck, nipping occasionally.
His stupidly talented hands began to trail down your thighs. “Then perhaps I should show them that you are mine. Maybe I should drag us to the window and take you right there.”
Words died on your tongue as his fingers began to play around with the waistband of your pajama shorts, teasingly lifting it only to have it snap back to your skin. All the while, his lips continued worshiping your now tender skin, drawing out a half-baked string of words from your muddled mind.
“I bet you’d like that, hm? For people to know how pretty you sing for me?” Damian pulled away from your neck, his eyes now gazing into yours while awaiting a response. Yet, you could think of none. You were left breathless and wanting, eagerly and desperately trying to fill the void he created.
“Not going to answer me, beloved?” His finger trailed down your exposed skin. “Then perhaps I should make you talk to me, hmm?”