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Summary
He shoves his knee onto the plastic of Damian’s chair and Red Arrow and Tai dive cleanly out of the way to make room for him. Jon reaches past him to grab the back of his chair and hoists himself up easily, straddling Damian with his skirt stretched tight. Pressed up this close, Damian can appreciate the intricate linework done on his bodice, feel the cool metal of the necklaces as they graze his cheek, dangling down from Jon’s neck.
The chorus of that damn Hot N Cold song is playing and Damian knows it was fully intentional. Jon smiles at him and there’s a decade of recklessness packed into that grin, reminiscent of every time he made a joke at Damian’s expense, every time he defied an order. Damian’s not even sure why he’s so affected when Jon isn’t even touching him but somehow he thinks it’s worse that way, his skin itching for the contact, his spine practically caving like a magnet towards him.