“I barely coughed.” 

He says, even while knowing his scratchy voice gives him away instantly. You hop off the bed to take the heated blanket Jon offers and lay it over your grumbling boyfriend.  

“He’s been sniffling and coughing all day, but I finally got him to take some meds.”   

“Which was a waste because I have the immune system of a-” 

His sentence is cut off when Jon sits on the bed --his weight dipping the mattress almost comically-- and leans over him to place a hand on his head. Damian lays there frozen and Jon, oblivious as always, gives a hum.  

“You're burning up, and your heartbeat is faster than usual. Seem pretty sick to me.” 

You snicker from behind Jon, watching your boyfriend’s flustered face turn into a scowl. He huffs and turns over so he doesn’t have to face either of you.  

Jon gives you a concerned look and you only shrug, crawling into bed next to your lover and getting comfy under the sheets.   

“Now that you’re here, you can help me keep him in bed, so he actually gets some rest.” 

You prop your head up on your hand and softly poke at Damian’s face, watching his sharp eyebrows scrunch and his lips pout. In all your years dating him, he’s only gotten sick a few times and every time rendered him an irritable, miserable mope of his former slightly less-irritable self.   

“Right. Good idea.”  

Jon slips off his shoes and then his shirt and then reaches for the button of his jeans. You pat Damian on the shoulder to make him roll on his back so you’re both watching the half-kryptonian, neither saying a thing lest he stop halfway through shoving his pants off.  

It's only when he's hopping around with his jeans stuck on his ankle that Damian speaks.  

“What are you doing?”  

Jon pauses, looking up at you both, his glasses askew. “I can’t sleep in outside clothes.” 

You meet your boyfriend’s eyes for a silent moment.  

"Ah, of course.” “...Obviously.”  

You both telepathically decide not to mention the fact that he could just go fetch his own pajamas in Metropolis and be back in a second, or that he has extra pj's in your drawers from the other times he's slept over. 

He places his glasses on the bedside table and clambers onto Damian's other side, spooning the former vigilante from behind while you keep him snug to your chest. You take a few moments to shuffle around and get comfortable before settling into a quiet, calm state of existence.  

Your legs are an incomprehensible tangled mess, Jon's arm rests under your head and Damian rests his head in your warm chest, all kept close together by Jon's strong arm reaching over Damian and resting on your lower back. The faint sound of Gotham traffic a few stories down and slow breathing is all that fills the room.  

Your fingers lightly card through Damian’s dark hair, catching Jon’s lidded eyes.  

“Thanks for coming, Jon.” 

Damian gives the quietest, shortest little hum in agreement, shuffling back a bit so he’s closer to Jon’s chest, who pulls you closer in response, warm fingers lightly brushing where your shirt has ridden up and sending heat all the way up your spine. 

“Don’t thank me.”  

He gives a warm smile, and nuzzles a little closer to Damian, who shivers slightly, fingers digging gently into your waist. You realise it might be a little overwhelming for him to be squished in the loving embraces of the two people he- 

“It’s just what best friend's do for each other.” 

You hide your grimace in your boyfriend’s hair, he hides his frustrated sigh in your chest.  

ᯓ★ 

The sun was blazing hot, the sand was worse, but neither could beat the sight of Damian Wayne stepping out of the waves; toned muscles flexing as he sweeps a hand through his wet hair, droplets slipping down his abs and past his swim trunks, his well-defined thighs flexing with the strain of stepping through wet sand.  

Jon let himself stare longer than he usually would, only turning away when he hears you clear your throat. His neck snaps towards where you lie on your side next to him on the blanket you're sharing, giving him a smug look. 

“Good view, huh?” 

Jon’s eyes widen, flicking from you to your boyfriend and back to your growing grin.  

“Yeah, we’re lucky the weather’s really great today and the waves! Nice waves!” 

Your smile only gets more cat-like, but you hum in agreement.  

“Very nice waves.”    

You both silently watch Damian walk up to your little set up on the empty beach and collapse next to Jon, cocking his head at the man. 

“Why is your face so red, Kent?” 

The second man of steel stammers for an answer before you pipe up from his other side.   

“Yeah, Jon? Did you put on sunscreen?”  

"Uh, yeah. I mean, no. I don't really need-" 

Before he can stammer any more, you're already getting your sunscreen out your beach bag and shuffling closer. His heart and stammering halt when you straddle his hips, uncap the tube and place a tiny pea of the white cream on your palm. 

You take a little with your finger and dot some on his red cheeks and across the bridge of his nose while Jon tries desperately not to stare at your chest, including the faint love bites that travel down your swim top.  

He can’t see Damian smirking at him, but definitely hears it in his voice.  

“Didn’t know Kryptonian’s could get sunburnt.” 

Before Jon can fumble through an answer, you pass the sunscreen to Damian.  

“Well, he’s only half Kryptonition.” 

Damian takes it and moves behind Jon to start massaging sunscreen into his tense shoulders. Jon clears his throat, avoiding your eyes.   

"I didn't know you guys were so... sun conscious." 

Your thumbs trace over his red hot cheeks, making him look you in the eyes.  

"Only because we care about you.” 

The sun reflects in his eyes, you feel his shoulders relax under your boyfriend’s skilled touch and his eyes ease shut as you rub soft circles on his red cheeks.  

“I care about you guys too.“  

You dip your head just a little closer, almost close enough to touch noses.  

“You’re such good friends to me.” 

You're glad his eyes are still closed so he can't see you deflate like a balloon. Damian's pained groan from behind him causes him to open his eyes again and give you a raised brow. You sigh, pat his shoulder and slip off his lap.  

ᯓ★  

Jon’s eyelids are heavy, sleep still weighing on his mind as he tries, though lazily, to remember where he is.   

"-and we have to be subtle about it." 

"You think we've been subtle?" 

Jon blinks the haze away, the hushed conversation only barely registering in his mind. 

“This is tiring, Beloved.”  

“I know, but we can’t overwhelm him.” 

“We won’t, we’ll explain-” 

The conversation stops abruptly when the couch creaks with his weight as Jon adjusts his sore body.  

He groans and stretches, wincing a little as his joints pop with the strain. He hears someone approach and feels fingers gently comb through his hair.  

“Did you sleep well?” 

He nuzzles into the touch, nodding his head with a croaky hum and mumbles something like, "HwamIhere?" 

He hears your chuckle, the sound making him smile. 

“You flew in here after a mission talking about an inter-dimensional imp or something and then collapsed on the couch. You looked pretty knocked up so we let you sleep and changed you out of your suit for you.” 

He doesn't even register the last bit of that, too caught up on how disappointed his mom would be if she heard he barged into a friend's home and took up their space without even asking! 

“I’m sor-” 

You completely stop him in his tracks with a playful kiss in his forehead before he can finish. 

“Don't apologize, Kent. We're glad you came to us.” 

You grab his wrists and pull him up off the couch.  

“Dami’s almost got dinner ready.”  

Jon's never heard a better sentence in his life. He hangs weightlessly on your shoulders as you walk over to the kitchen so he doesn’t have to use his still unconscious legs.  

You lean against the kitchen counter and Jon’s head leans against your shoulder as you both watch your lover in his element. You can help but smile, remembering how awful he was at cooking or really any house chores when you started dating. 

“If you two would stop gawking and set the table, that would be helpful.”   

You both huff in amusement, but do as told. Jon floats over to the cupboard, taking out three bowls and placing them on the counter.  

“Come and taste this.” 

Jon floats over to Damian, who holds out a steaming spoon for him. Jon slips at the soupy contents and lets out a moan. Damian scoffs, eyes rolling but smile unhidden. He lifts Jon's chin slightly,   

“Good?” 

 Jon’s eyes widen a little but he nods wordlessly and Damian gives a short hum before turning back to his stove. The half-kryptonian speeds over to help you set up the table as Damian finishes up the rest of the food.  

Soon, all three of you stuffing your faces with soup and buttered bread sticks. Both you and Damian can tell there's something on your friend's mind by how quiet he is. He only speaks after his second serving, swirling his bread stick in his almost empty bowl.  

“So uh, I have a date.” 

Neither you nor Damian react immediately, save for the look you throw each other from across the table. You pipe up with a smile you hope looks more genuine than it feels.  

“That’s great! Do you think it’ll go well?” 

Damian rolls his eyes as if to say, "Real subtle." and you shoot him a glare. 

“Well, he’s nice and I think he’s into me.” 

He hears Damian scoff and mumble, “Nice?” under his breath. He also hears you kick his foot under the table.   

“If you’re nervous, we could join you. For emotional support.”  

You shrug as if it’s a normal thing to bring your two best friends along for a first date. He rubs the back of his head.  

“Thanks, but I think you guys scared away my last date.” 

You scoff awkwardly, Damian doesn't look up from his soup. 

“What? That’s ridiculous.”  

“She wasn’t worthy.”  

You glare at Damian from across the table and Jon just gives you a raised brow, gesturing to your boyfriend.  

“Okay, fine. But it’s just because we want the best for you.” 

You place your hand in his, giving him a very cautious smile. 

“Because we love you.”  

Damian gives a short nod down at his soup and Jon feels his heart warm and his cheeks flush. 

“Jeez, I love you guys too.”  

His thumb strokes the back of your hand, he looks like he’s glowing.  

“I’m lucky to have you guys as frie-” 

Damian roughly sets down his bowl, cutting him off before Jon can utter the word. You give him another glare, one that he returns this time as Jon looks between you with concern written all over his face.  

You win the staring match when Damian lifts his bowl back up to angrily slurp at the rest of the contents.  

“We’re lucky to have you too.” 

 You pat Jon’s hand and Damian grumbles all the way back to the kitchen to wash his dish and sulk for the rest of the night.  

ᯓ★ 

The moon is high in the sky, a random movie is playing on the tv, and Jon has once again found himself stuck snuggly between his two best friends.  

You were already attached to his bicep not even a minute into the movie, curled into his side. 

Damian’s on his other side, arms crossed, thighs spread apart lazily. Jon’s been trying not to stare at where his pajama shorts have ridden up, the heat of his skin burning where his thigh presses against Jon’s. His head tips back against the couch, lidded eyes gazing at the screen with a bored look.  

Safe to say, Jon can’t seem to focus on anything going on in the movie. Especially not when your fingers idly trace up and down his forearm like that.  

“so... how did your date go?”  

It’s quiet for a moment as Jon thinks up a proper answer. He shrugs,  

“It was nice.” 

It’s always just nice, if even that.  

That might not have been the proper answer because he can feel both of you looking at him and then look at each other and then look at him again. He hates it when you do that, it makes him feel more left out than if you guys just kissed in front of him. Not that he thinks about that often. 

Damian shuffles a bit at his side, his arms flex ever so slightly as he readjusts. 

“What happened?” 

He’s trying to sound nonchalant but both Jon and you know how protective he can be and how out of hand that can get. Jon shakes his head and answers a little too quick. 

“Nothing! Nothing happened.”  

He shoves his hands in his lap, keeping his eyes on the screen. There’s another short silence and Jon just knows you’re doing the couple telepathy thing again. 

You take one of his hands in yours, in the gentle way you always do.  

“Is there going to be a second date?”   

Jon bites the inside of his lip, shrugs and gives a noncommittal, "Maybe." 

His date texted him a few hours ago asking about just that, but he doesn't want to tell you why he hasn't responded yet. You nod slowly and take a deep breath.  

"Y'know, we could help you out? Give you some advice?" 

He wants to laugh. He already knows you can’t help him because you’re the problem. He can’t go on a date without thinking about how he’d rather be hanging out with you and Damian or wondering if you’d like the person or imagining your lips or Damian’s hands instead of the person he's supposed to be on a date with. 

He hasn't gotten laid in ages because the last time he did, he almost said both your names and the guilt almost ruined him.  

He huffs an awkward laugh,  

“I don’t need advice.” 

Damian scoffs and Jon whips his head around, 

“Clearly your dates would disagree.” 

Jon gawks and turns to you, clearly looking for some backup, but the only thing you offer him is a pained expression and a shrug. Damian continues,  

“Your string of failed dates has become embarrassing to watch. You clearly need help.”  

Jon goes to argue again but stops himself with a scoff when he realises there's no point. He rubs his palms into his eyes, already burning with embarrassment. You place a hand on his shoulder. 

“Its okay to be nervous on a date, Jon. We can at least help you feel more...experienced.” 

He throws his hands up,  

"I am experience-" 

"I know. But maybe you just need more practice?" 

He turns to you, searching your face for what that could possibly mean. You're biting your lip in a way that's clearly meant to be hiding some excitement behind it, your hand moving down his arm.  

“Damian’s a good kisser. He could show you.” 

Jon’s eyes go so wide you have to stifle a laugh, waving your hands placatingly. 

“Just for practice, obviously.”  

He spins his head around to Damian when he hears the man’s huffed laughter.  

Damian has his head tilted back against the couch, waiting with a confident smirk. His eyes flick down to Jon’s lips making the man's shoulders tense and his heart stumble.  

“I don't- Well if- I mean-” 

Damian rolls his eyes, and without drawing it out further, pulls Jon by his collar into a hard kiss. Jon makes a high-pitched yelp sound against Damian's lips, one that almost matches your stifled scream of excitement as Damian keeps him close, deepening the kiss.  

When Damian pulls away you can tell it’s too soon for both men. They look forward at the TV, Jon blinking with his mouth agape while Damian schools his face into a deadpan expression.  

“That was terrible.”  

“What?!” 

You can’t help but laugh, only making Jon's embarrassment burn brighter. 

“You don’t reciprocate enough. Just stayed still like a dummy and made me do all the work.” 

Jon holds his hands out in exasperation, more offended than he should reasonably be. 

“That's because I wasn’t expecting it!” 

“Are you expecting it now?” 

Damian takes his jaw and turns his head towards where you've been patiently waiting your turn ever since they separated.  

You give him a moment to back away before meeting his lips, softer than Damian, just getting a taste before diving deeper. He slowly melts against your lips as you deepen it, reciprocating every kiss with his own. His hand stays on your back, keeping you close when you mumble against his lips.  

"Terrible. Needs lots of practice."  

You hear Damian scoff and Jon lets out an embarrassingly high-pitched sound as your boyfriend nips at his neck, trying in vain to leave any marks on the Half-kryptonian's skin. You feel Damian making his way up Jon's neck and pull away, letting Damian have another taste while you work down his neck. You hear Jon moan into the kiss as Damian bites down on his lower lip, trying to get him to open up so Damian can slip his tongue into his friend’s mouth. You slowly start unbuttoning Jon's sleep shirt, each button revealing that toned chest you just have to lay kisses on, trying not to get distracted by the growing tent in his pants. 

When you get to the last button, Jon pulls away from Damian, panting even though he doesn't need to breathe air.  

"You guys don't have to do all this just- just to help me get a date." 

There's a second of silence before both you and Damian let out frustrated groans. Damian grabs Jon's face, looking him in his big blues.  

"Are you serious?" 

Jon doesn't answer and you sigh wearily, playing with the waistband of his plaid pajamas.  

"We'll have to make it more obvious, Dames." 

Damian takes one hand and, without breaking eye contact with your stupid, oblivious, beautiful friend, he takes your hand and grabs Jon's half-hard cock. 

The man hisses, looking down at where you both cup him over his pajamas and Damian squeezes harder, grabbing him by the jaw to meet his eyes again.   

"Call me your friend again, I dare you." 

Jon can only let out a pained groan. You feel his cock twitch in your hand, the wet spot worsening.  

"Oh, he liked that." 

Damian huffs in snide amusement. He backs away from Jon, looking down at you and suddenly, Jon seems to realise how truly fucked he is when Damian leans down to meet you in a sweet kiss.  

He watches the way you both seamlessly trade positions, your hand leaving his cock so Damian can palm him at his own pace while you kiss up his neck. He tries to lean back and relax, but Damian’s hand is so warm and strong, and your lips are so soft and they mumble so gently against his neck. 

“Are you feeling overwhelmed?” 

He nods, unable to say much else with his heart in his throat. He's been dreaming of this for so long and, of course, when it somehow is finally happening to him, he can barely react with anything other than choked sounds.  

“That's okay, we just want to make you feel good.”  

You hold both his cheeks in your hands, he stares up at you like a deity who came down to bless him.  

“Jon,” You place a kiss on his forehead, “Can we do that?” 

He swallows, noticing that Damian's hands have stopped moving, waiting for his answer. He swallows and then nods his head rather dumbly, lifting his hips from the couch so Damian can slip his pants off. 

“Good boy.” 

Jon’s cock twitches. Damian murmurs, “He liked that.” before giving a soft kiss to the his swollen pink tip, smearing the generous amount of pre down his shaft and working him up from the base with the deft hands of an artist and doctor.  

Jon lets out absolutely debauched moans, tipping his head back against the couch and pinching his eyes shut, all while feeling your gaze watching his every reaction. You play with his hair idly, and when Jon's eyes flutter open and meet yours again, all pretense of being the good cop in this situation has evaporated. 

“Kissing is far from the only thing he's good at, but you knew that already.” 

Jon's barely cognizant enough to understand what you're implying and just when he does, Damian's tongue on his cock wipes any cognitive function left, turning him into a whining mess under his two most loved people.  

His hips buck up just slightly as he nears his first release of the night. You keep one of his thighs wide open with your knee, not taking your eyes off his pretty face for even a second. His eyelashes flutter, his lips part and his curls bob with every thrust of Damian's. He feels everything at once; Your fingers in his hair, your lips fluttering softly against his cheeks, Damian's hands, his fingers, his mouth.

Just when his moans reach a crescendo, just when you know he's reached his peak, Damian lifts both his head and hands, leaving Jon's cock bobbing in the air with no stimulation, ruining the man's orgasm completely. 

"Damian!" 

Both you and Jon cry, Jon out of painful betrayal and you out of amused shock. Damian watches the man struggle without a lick of sympathy, wiping his hands on Jon's shirt. 

"Serves him right for putting us through all that." 

Jon lets out a broken whine, not helped by your barely stifled laugh.  

Damian holds out his hand for you and you take it, letting him lift you from the couch and off to your bedroom, calling back,  

"Come, Jonathon. Don't be dramatic." 

You can hear Jon's pained groan from down the hall. No doubt asking any higher being for mercy. 

ᯓ★ 

The room is dark, air still cooling down from a very eventful night. Three bodies lay in tangled sheets, Jon in the middle while you and Damian huddle into him for warmth using his chest as a pillow. It's been quiet for a while, Jon's fingers gently trace your hip and up Damian's back. 

"So...does this mean I should cancel that second date?" 

In unison, you and your boyfriend shoot up to look him in the eyes, expressions holding a cocktail of emotions; anger, exasperation, bafflement, mostly anger. 

He lifts both hands in surrender, a self-satisfied grin on his face. 

"I'm kidding." 

He's then assaulted with pillows and yelled at by both his lovers and almost sent to the couch for the rest of the night. 

ᯓ★ 

--- God. Finally, this fic has haunted me for a week! There may be mistakes but I'm free!!