Don't Expect Anything More

Pre-ordered Company

'Twenty minutes.'
That bounced around Damian Wayne's head and like a tennis ball. How long had it been? Was Jon ready? Was this true?
He completely forgot about inviting Jon over, and to be honest, it wasn't the most amazing time. The realization set in suddenly with the billionaire boy, and he was hurrying down the steps.
Donning a black turtleneck, red pull-over, black jeans and sneakers. Damian skipped the last three steps—landing loudly at the main entrance of the manor. Beginning to run, but being interrupted near immediately, the boy thumped into a brooding raven-haired man.
"Father," he began, "Jon is.."
"Already here?" Bruce asked, crossing his arms over his chest. "I allowed him inside a few minutes ago."
Damian's eyes narrowed. "What? You let him in?" The boy acted offended, but before Bruce had time to answer, he turned on heel and began a jog towards the kitchen.
There he was; the man, the myth, the legend..
"What's up, Damian?" Jon asked in his happy-go-lucky voice.
"Shut up! Why would you come in without telling me?"
Jon frowned, continuing to spread DAMIAN'S peanut butter across a piece of toast, which was DAMIAN'S bread, that sat upon DAMIAN'S plate.
.. IN DAMIAN'S HOUSE.
Or, er, Bruce Wayne's manor.
"Weeeelllllll, your dad let me in! Technically, this isn't your manor." The kryptonion boy said, beginning to levitate upwards and above Damian.
Damian Wayne growled. "Are you serious?"
"'Ya," Jon replied, floating around the kitchen carelessly, "I am."