NEW GODS: The Awakening

Drowning In Jasmine

Weirdly enough, Damian discovered climbing up a gigantic medieval castle was significantly more scary when you were being dragged up by a mildly sentient shadow rope.

Scared was not exactly the word to describe how he felt. He simply wished he could do something more than clutch at the rope while it did all the work for him.

At first, he had been thankful this gave him some more time to mull over things. Quickly, being alone with his thoughts became exhausting, especially as he became ever aware of the distance between him and Leon’s window. It was too far away- he craved to crawl in there and hide away underneath the fur blankets.

The window curtains were shut tight so he had no way of knowing what was happening inside. A little light slipped from the edge and temporarily blinded him. He urgently knocked on the window.

His heart sunk when ten seconds passed and the knocking was left unanswered. Maybe Leon was not there? But if it was so, why were the candles lit?

He knocked on the glass again. And again. And again. Once more. Each time he was unnoticed- or worse ignored.

Suddenly, a warm breeze blew past him. The window was left wide open for him to enter. The relief he felt racing in his blood could not be conveyed in any words.

He dissolved the shadow and jumped into the room, not even noticing that he had narrowly avoided falling to his death. The bounce in his step made him move faster than usual.

An ecstatic grin split his face in half. It softened into something more vulnerable when he gazed at Leon.

Leon must have been preparing for bed because this was the most comfortable dressed he had seen him in a long time. His dark pants hanged off his hips, showing off his V-line which was not great since Damian needed to stay focused.

Most distractingly, he was wearing no shirt.

His skin, the shade of smoky quartz, somehow looked both like it would feel satin beneath his fingertips and rough and hot like sand while it pressed against his. His body was chiseled with strongly defined abs and muscles.

Damian’s eyes trailed over the harsh lines of his stomach. What reaction could he pull out of him if his nails lightly lingered along those lines?

Desire, a painless fire built up on his face and lower stomach and he coughed, trying to swallow down the knot stuck in his throat. He diverted his gaze

“You are… not fully dressed,”

“Wasn’t expecting visitors at a time like this,”

Something was off about Leon.

Something about his voice was distinctly uncharacteristic of him. His ear perked up as he tried to understand without looking up at him.

“Yeah. Sorry about that. I can turn around if you want to continue dressing,”

“Maybe you should take your clothes off too,”

Damian’s head snapped up and he gaped at Leon. Suddenly, the heat of the room was too much to handle and he considered seriously taking up his suggestion. Leon erratically shook his head.

“What am I saying?” Leon muttered to himself.

He had truthfully not paid much attention to anything else than his very much revealed chest. But as he scanned up, he found the source of his strange behavior.

He was holding up a half-filled glass of crimson wine. Behind him, on his desk, a large bottle had been placed.

Looking back, his words were more drawn out and slurred than usual.