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“You know how cannibalism is used as a metaphor for love?”
Jon asks the question through harsh breaths. Damian, quite frankly, has no idea what he’s talking about. But Jon is focused on essentially keeping an entire cavern from collapsing on top of them, so whatever he needs to keep going, Damian will provide it.
“I don’t know,” Damian says, and he winces as he shifts slightly. There’s a growing bloodstain on his torso that he’s trying not to draw attention to, because he doesn’t want to worry Jon. Or distract him. It’s nothing to be worried about, anyways, or that’s what he keeps telling himself. “Tell me more.”
He says it often, these days. Jon will start talking about his literature or science classes at Metropolis University and Damian will listen intently, will request more information, because he likes listening to Jon talk. He likes the sound of Jon’s voice. Right now, he’s pretty sure Jon talking is what’s keeping him awake and alive.
“I mean, it goes back to Beowulf and, like, Moby Dick, the idea of it representing queer themes or just love in general. It’s getting more popular, with like, the Hannibal TV show, or that one movie with the guy from Dune.”
“You’re going to have to be more specific.”
“The horror one that Kon wouldn’t take me to when it came out.”
“ Bones and All?”
“Yeah, that.” Jon grunts as he shifts a little, and a fine helping of dust rains down around Damian. He can see Jon’s muscles straining. If he listens hard, he could probably hear Jon’s heartbeat. “Anyways.”
“Anyways,” Damian presses. He tries to subtly press down on the wound in his stomach. He lets out a hiss, but Jon must be distracted enough by the task at hand to hear him.
“It’s like that with vampires, too. I love you, let me devour you. A little on the nose. But it’s that kind of all-consuming love. I want to crawl into your skin. I want to know how every part of you tastes. I want to swallow your heart and lick the blood off my fingers.”
Damian, personally, has never felt any cannibalistic urges. He does know what kind of love Jon is talking about, though, the kind of love that chews you up and spits you out and doesn’t digest well. It’s the kind of love he feels for Jon.
“Where is this coming from?” he asks.
“Well, if we get trapped down here, who’s gonna eat who?” Jon asks, and Damian rolls his eyes.
“Neither of us would be eating the other,” Damian says. “Because we’re not going to get trapped down here.”
“Easy for you to say.” Jon lets out a few grumbles, then nudges Damian’s ankle with his foot. “You’re not doing any of the heavy lifting.”
They’ve been in this position for hours. They’ve already gotten an emergency signal to Damian’s father; they’re just waiting to be dug out, at this point. Jon is keeping the cavern from collapsing further, which Damian appreciates. It’s simply a matter of time.
Time they may not have. Damian can feel himself growing weaker. He can see the way Jon is beginning to tremble. Super strength can only get you so far when you’re preventing a cave-in.
“I just think it’s interesting,” Jon says, and Damian can hear the struggle in his voice now, too, the way he’s close to giving out but refuses to, not when Damian’s life is on the line. “How far people are willing to go when they love each other.”
He’s looking Damian right in the eyes when he says it. Damian would blush if there was any blood left in his face. Most of it is pooling around his stomach right now, though. Jon’s gaze darts down to it. He knows Damian is injured; of course he knows.
“We’re not going to die,” Damian says.
“I know,” Jon replies.
“Just a little longer.”
“I could say the same to you.”
Damian doesn’t want to close his eyes. Doesn’t want to tear his gaze away from Jon. There’s a tiny amount of light filtering in between the rocks above them, sunlight desperately straining to get through. It gets brighter as the sounds of digging get closer. Damian thinks he can hear his brothers, but that might just be his imagination.
“Just a little more,” Damian says again, and Jon nods. His stance is still firm even as he quivers, and Damian tries to keep his breathing steady. Calm. They are not going to die.
“Damian,” Jon says, and Damian’s eyes snap open. He didn’t realize they were closed. Jon looks worried, now, though he’s trying not to. “Just a little more.”
“Right,” Damian says, but he can feel himself fading. Another fresh beam of light shoots down somewhere near his knee; a sure sign that his family is close. He doesn’t want to rest. He wants to keep looking at Jon. He’s not sure if he has a choice anymore. “I love you,” he says, just in case, and his voice is weak. “Let me devour you.”
Things go black, for a long time. They come back in flashes, like a camera going off– there’s Jon’s father with the world on his shoulders, there’s Richard’s hands pressed against Damian’s torso, there’s Drake and Brown yelling about a helicopter. There’s his father, peering into his eyes, worried, terrified. There’s Jon, shaking, holding his hand tight.
It comes back in full in the darkness of the Cave. A different kind of Cave, one that speaks of safety and security, one that speaks of home. Jon is still holding his hand. There’s a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. Damian can hear his father and Superman talking somewhere in the distance. Alfred is wandering around, and he smiles when he sees Damian is awake. Titus is resting at the foot of Damian’s bed.
“Hello,” Damian says quietly. Jon– busy watching their fathers– startles. He squeezes Damian’s hand and smiles.
“Hey,” he says. “You feel okay?”
Damian gets up to a seated position with only minor difficulties. There’s a bandage around his torso and he assumes he’s been given a blood transfusion.
“I feel fine,” Damian says. He bites back a smirk. “We’re alive.”
Jon snorts.
“Like always,” Damian adds, and now Jon shakes his head.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“And yet you follow me anyways.”
“Yeah,” Jon says, voice soft. “I do.”
It feels like a confession, perhaps. Or as close to one as they might get.
“I draw the line at eating you, though,” Jon says, and there’s a twinkle in his eyes, a spark of mischief, and Damian snickers and squeezes his hand back.
“I’d like a proper analysis on vampires, then,” he requests. “You mentioned something about vampirism and cannibalism being amongst the same veins.”
“Twilight?” Jon asks, perking up. Damian huffs.
“If you must,” he says, and Jon launches into a rousing discussion of werewolves and vampires and Damian figures he may as well settle in for the ride.