A/N: While reading new stuff to reference for my novel I came across different and interesting styles of writing so I've tried to stick with a different form of dialogue between Damian and the others for this chapter, hopefully this does a better job at conveying my vision. Enjoy!
…
Although the first few weeks have been anything but normal for Damian, he's always been both a pragmatic man and quick on the uptake, traits that are more often than not forced upon an orphan to be able to survive on most versions of Earth.
After much mental back and forth, he opted for cremating and burying his parents' ashes back at his mother's hometown, where their parents met, close to his grandparents' graves. The only ones Damian had met as his father's past always remained a mystery he always found ways to refuse explaining. Yet, he kept the urn where that was used to transport them. For reasons that now seem obvious to Damian.
So after coming back, he did his best to get used to his new normal; being a teen mutant, son of a deceased S.H.I.E.L.D agent, friend of Spiderman and nephew of Black Widow. Which admittedly was a 'fucking lot', in his own words. He has rapidly become adept at juggling between practicing with his new powers in secret, having some quality time with Natasha, which mainly involved cooking dinner and eating together as she spent most of her time outside because there's always "a lot of crunch work to do", in her words. It seemed Fury was not the easy going boss type.
He also had to manage his previous self's social life, which wasn't hard as it seemed both Damians' have always retained a distaste for shallow people. So while he was well acquainted with most of his classmates, he only kept a few people in his inner circle; namely Peter, Ned and Gwen and a few others to a slightly lesser degree. Surprisingly, Damian shared the same middle school with Peter and Mary Jane, whom he had befriended from the get go.
As this Damian's empathetic predisposition was able to flourish with loving and supporting parents, instead of having to hide behind a hard shell like he had done in his first life, he hit it off instantly with the social butterfly of MJ. And as she was trying to make friends with the socially awkward Peter Parker due to the friendship of her mom and Aunt May, the three somehow ended up as a friend group.
Acting like social glue, the awkward Peter and the outgoing Mary Jane maintained a sort of friendship around both being good friends with Damian.
Sadly, as it eventually happens, people grow and paths diverge, and as they started high school, teenage MJ developed a taste for high school popularity. This consequently made them grow apart as while Damian didn't mind being friends with anybody, Peter remained the same awkward kid that found it difficult to navigate social interactions fluently, and for the vanity of teenagers, that was a no-no.
Even then, neither Peter or Damian resented her for that. They accepted that she just had changed, though Peter secretly missed having another outgoing person around as she and Damian always did the heavy lifting when it came to keeping conversations going.
As for Damian, while feeling a bit let down by her seemingly shallow actions, merely decided to respect her choice and move on, keeping bare minimum interactions through texts in the form of 'Happy Birthday' or 'Happy New Years' like you would with a distant relative.
But much to his chagrin, this changed a couple days ago when Aunt May found out about his parents as Damian chanced upon her on one of his outings to train where he had to explain everything to her, as she was a friend of the family, even if they didn't maintain much contact due to May being an old school type of adult that refused to get along with modern technology, unless strictly necessary.
This meant that once aunt May knew, so did Peter, Ned, Gwen and MJ, and oh boy did they let him know. He had to deal with a lot of messages of "Are you alright?" texts and all their derivatives, but it didn't bother him much as he expected to. Rather it warmed his heart to have people reach out to him just because they cared, even if they didn't feel quite his friends yet.
After a lot of answering and convincing them that he was doing okay, he caved in and arranged a little hang out at his house with all of them in a couple days–Mary Jane included–so here he was trying to cook lunch with his own prototype of telekinesis, as even if he was too clumsy to do the delicate things like cutting, he could still move and stir stuff around.
Looking his somewhat clumsy juggling of kitchenware, Eva muttered. [Are you sure you want to play around with your telekinesis right now? Aren't they supposed to arrive in a couple minutes?]
"This is called practice woman, practice. And I'm about done anyways, what could go wrong? I'm just moving stuff around." He responded off-handedly while his face scrunched in concentration.
[I don't know, maybe throwing the pot to the ground and having to restart the cooking all over again, for the third time?] Said Eva while rolling her figurative eyes.
"Tsk, have some faith in me, would you? And it only happened once!"
After his answer there was a moment of silence, before Eva asked again, this time her tone a bit more… serious? Unsure? He couldn't really tell. [Are you also sure about this?]
"About what?" He asked.
[Showing yourself to them, I mean. Your body has changed… a lot.]
"I can feel you ogling even if I can't see you, you know? And don't worry, as long as I don't take my clothes off it shouldn't be hard to dissimulate the big changes from them. At least it can't be harder than doing so from Natasha anyways."
With mirth in her tone, Eva rebuked [You know she's noticed that you have suddenly started to use a lot of baggy clothes, right?]
With a smile on his face as he took a tray out of the oven with his powers while he colocated the table cloth, Damian responded to Eva "Duh, I'm not stupid and neither is she. She just decided to turn a blind eye, as much as I turn a blind eye to her weak excuses for always being "at work". Shit, I don't even think she believes them after disappearing for a couple days talking about a sudden business trip the day off finding out."
Chuckling while remembering that, she said. [I guess you have a point.]
"Trust me on this one, they haven't seen me since summer break began and my hoodie hides my figure pretty well, at most they'd notice my shoulders got broader. If anything, their attention will be more on my 'growth spurt' anyways."
Sighing at his words, she simply said. [If you say so.]
As Damian mentioned, his body has undergone many changes during and after he finished absorbing Nightwings physique a couple days ago.
His frame was now filled with dense but streamlined muscles, prioritizing functional strength over sheer size, broad but not blocky shoulders connected to both a pronounced chest and long toned and athletic arms with the perfect amount of vascularity throughout.
Then there was his slim, compact waist capable of strong rotational force with a slightly faint 8-pack definition, creating a V-tapper shape. Opposite to that was a broad back of lean muscle and pronounced yet not grotesque lats, maybe the strongest muscle group he currently had alongside his core.
Last but not least, it was his lower body. Strong and robust thighs like those of a professional gymnast, with pronounced and highly vascular calves due to the nature of the Wonder Boy's roof-hopping lifestyle.
Curiously, developing the physique of adult Nightwing in such a short span of time has seemed to have affected his own growth hormones as he had grown a couple inches during the last weeks, getting closer to what he presumed is his real height once he finishes growing up, from the previous 5'10-5'11 to his current 6'1-6'1 and a half.
…
While Damian started to set the table, he heard a sudden knock on his front door.
*Knock-Knock-Knock*
Looking at the time on his phone and saw that there was still some time before what they had agreed on. 'Hm? Somebody's early' "Coming." He yelled.
Putting down the plate he had at hand, he walked towards the door and wiped his hands with the dish towel hanging from his shoulder before opening the door.
And there it was–Mary Jane Watson–in all her glory. Much like Natasha, no even more, she was the definition of "comic book pretty". The most beautiful woman he has ever seen so far.
Her hair was long, cascading and voluminous, tinted in flaming red with some highlights of heavier orange here and there. Styled in loose bouncy curls that framed her face perfectly. The contour of her face was heart-shaped, with a delicately tapered chin and high, pronounced cheekbones of a beautiful pink colour and supple look while her jawline was smooth and defined, a balance of sharpness and femininity. Inside the contour you can see carefully trimmed, thin eyebrows in a slight arch.
Bellow, deep green emerald irises, half a shade darker than Damian's, encased in beautiful and almost exaggerated (in a good way) almond shape, with long black ink eyelashes due to her makeup. A small, slightly upturned nose with soft contours that suited her just right, followed by full, pouty lips with a pronounced cupid's bow, looking perfect on her face. Lastly a layer of light makeup that made a perfect combo with the light freckles on her face, making all her good features shine even more.
If her face was enough to make the average man waver, her body would send any of her peers into a staring contest. A perfect hourglass silhouette, prominent chest, a slim waist with a subtle abdominal line in the middle. Shapely hips and what Damian could only assume a 'sizable behind', all connected to perfectly proportional long and athletic legs and thighs.
She was in a casual outfit consisting of a fitted, off-shoulder burgundy sweater that showed off her collarbone tastefully and complemented her hair, waist high black skinny jeans and black ankle length boots with some jewelry to match. Highlighting her beauty in a simple but incredible manner.
(Just wanted to make this clear, but this is such a detailed description because I wanted to help you picture MJ, I took heavy inspiration from the version drawn by J. Scott Campbell and his "iconic" cover of MJ, by the way. Having said that, don't think Damian is looking at her with "those" kinda eyes, although he has "fused" with young Damian, from his perspective he still feels more like the 28 year old Damian. His perspective might change as time goes by, but he is no weirdo, just saying this beforehand.)
Seeing her in the flesh, in a way, he could respectfully recognize she was probably the most attractive woman he has ever seen, one that would fall right in his striking zone too, in other circumstances. However, he didn't let anything show on his face as he greeted her.
Leaning against the door frame while assuming his usual smirk he started "Mary Jane Watson. Either you're really eager for free food, or you decided to show up early. And since I know you've never been early a day in your life…"
She snorts in response, crossing her arms, yet her eyes flicker over him from head to toe for a second "Wow. Still the same sarcastic ass, I see. Some things don't change," she said while stepping inside, brushing past him, her shoulder grazing his chest. She doesn't miss how he seems broader now. How the hell did that happen over summer?
As he closes the door behind her, he quips back with a dry but warm tone "Takes one to know one, Watson."
As she walks further into his house, memories of the past invades her mind as everything seems to be in the exact same place as she remembered.
Then the fragrance of fresh lasagna hit her, making her look at the kitchen counter, seeing her favorite dish sitting there alongside other dishes. That's when her breath suddenly catches for a moment, a remembrance of Ana, Damian's mom cooking the dish for her as it was both their favorites, but that was back when she used to visit him.
At the side, Damian silently taking all her reactions in. Then, with a voice softer than intended, MJ points at the lasagna tray and says "You remembered."
Putting his hands in his pocket, Damian shrugs–yet there's no nonchalance in his eyes–just quiet honesty. "Hard to forget the way you used to inhale three servings each time my Mom cooked it. Thought it might… I dunno, make things less awkward.
MJ stares at him. This isn't the Damian she remembers. The Damian she remembers was cute, lanky and quick with a joke, the type of guy who'd step between Flash and Peter with a grin that said 'Try me.'
This Damian? This Damian was striking instead. A sharp jaw, shoulders that fill out his baggy hoodie in a way tells her there's more than what meets the eye behind the clothes, and those eyes–since when were they that green? Shaking herself, she admonishes. 'Focus, Mary Jane'.
She tried to use a teasing tone, yet wavered a little "Aw, Rossi. You do still care."
Grinning now, he stepped closer to the table in a manner that pointed at a confidence in himself that wasn't quite there before. He shot back. "Don't let it get around. I've got a reputation to uphold".
At that she rolled her eyes, yet she couldn't help but smile at his words. Then her gaze lands on the framed photo on the counter. Damian's parents, mid-laugh, arms around each other and an urn next to the photo. Making her smile fade. Quietly, she asks.
"...How are you holding up?"
Damian followed her gaze. For a fraction of a second, his smile slips, but just a fraction. Then he exhales, running a hand through his hair. "Define 'holding up'."
Refusing to look away, she insists. "Damian."
He meets her eyes. There's no pity there. That's just like her. The MJ current Damian used to know. The one who'd call him on his bullshit on the spot.
In an honest and low pitched tone he confesses. "It blows. It fucking sucks. But I… think I'll manage."
Mary Jane nods. She gets it. Offering no empty consolations like 'I know it must be hard for you'. No empty comfort, just acknowledgment. That's why he always liked her. At least that's why current Damian always did.
Softly so, she continues "Good. That's… good."
Then, because she can't help herself, she gestures vaguely at him. "Also, what the hell, Rossi? Did you, like, Hulk out over summer or something?"
Caught off guard, Damian let out a genuine laugh escape his mouth. He tugs self-consciously at his rolled up sleeves. Forgetting he rolled them up to cook in the first place.
"What, this old thing?" Grinning, he flexed just a little, and even with the hoodie MJ could see the area of his biceps rise. Just enough to make her, and the silent Eva, roll their eyes. "Just a growth spurt. Puberty they call it."
Deadpanning at the lame excuse, she said. "Uh-huh. And I'm secretly the Queen of England," while poking at his bicep, which she immediately regretted when feeling how solid it is. "Jesus. Did you eat a gym?"
He tried to laugh to mask the tension with eyes that asked: 'Don't ask more.' "Nah. Just got tired of Flash thinking he could take me".
At his response, Mary Jane's smile dims. Flash. Right. The unspoken thing between them. The reason she almost didn't come tonight.
Looking away, she tried to explain herself "...Yeah. About that".
Damian watches her. He knows where this is going. He could stop her, crack a joke, change the subject. But he doesn't. He waits.
Finally meeting his eyes again, she started. "I'm sorry. For just… watching. All those times. I should've-"
Yet, before she could give out her reasons, Damian cuts her off, in a firm but gentle manner. "It's fine."
Blinking, she took a second to process his abrupt answer before frowning. "No, it's not".
Shrugging, he said "Okay. Maybe it's not. But I don't hold it against you. Peter doesn't hold it against you. Hell, I'm pretty sure the only person who's hung up on it is you."
'I'm also not the same Damian you know, nor do I care about petty high school squabbles.' He finished in his mind what he couldn't say out loud.
Mary Jane opens her mouth just to close it shortly after. 'Damn him. Damn him for being probably right'.
Muttering, she insists "Still. You didn't have to make my favorite lasagna."
Putting a grin again in his mouth, he leans forward just a little–just enough to make her breath hitch. "And who said it was just for you? I love lasagna just as much as you do, if not more."
She scoffs, shoving his shoulder. But she's laughing now, and so is he, and for a second, it's like no time has passed at all.
Using the good mood to change topics, he walks and pulling out a chair he says in an exaggerated gentlemanly tone "Have a seat, M'lady. The dishes will be served shortly".
Snorting at the fake gentleman act Damian suddenly put on, she walked to the kitchen saying "I'd rather help with the table."
Exhaling in an exaggerated manner he starts to walk towards the kitchen himself as he says. "And some women wonder why chivalry's dead."
Rolling her eyes for what felt like the twelfth time, she stifles a laugh while answering "Oh shut up, while I'm being nice."
Laughing a little as he reaches for the plates he quips "Uh-oh, how scary."
While engaging in a back and forth, just like in the good old days, they heard a knock on the door and a familiar voice as the last plate fell in its place.
Sounding a bit muffled but enthusiastic, Ned started "Hello! We come bearing ice cream and emotional vulnerability!"
Damian and MJ exchange a look. Having regained a bit of that closeness they once held, even as they have both changed from who they once were.
Damian called over his shoulder. "Hold on, Leeds, I'm busy!"
Then he said to MJ, in a quieter voice, smirk tugging at his lips. "Guess the circus is here."
Bumping his shoulder as she heads for the door she responds "Better late than never."
Mary Jane opens the door to reveal Ned, Peter, and Gwen standing in the hallway, Ned carrying ice cream and Gwen a bowl of salad. The moment stretches just a beat too long, the air thick with unspoken history. Peter, still in his slightly crumpled, quickly put together outfit (having changed out of his Spider-Man suit in a hurry), blinks at MJ like he's been caught in headlights.
With a crack in his voice, he muttered "Uh. Hey, MJ. You're-you're here. Early. Which is. Cool. Good. Cool."
MJ shifts her weight, crossing her arms to subconsciously shield herself. She hadn't expected Peter to be the first face she saw. Forcing a smirk she greeted "Wow, Parker. Three words in and you're already redder than my hair."
With a wide and oblivious grin to the tension, Ned says "To be fair, I also wasn't expecting the legendary Mary Jane Watson to grace us with her presence. Did you bribe the bouncer or something?"
Gwen, standing slightly behind Peter, rolls her eyes. Yet her gaze lingers on Damian, who's now approaching the door. Her grip tightens on the salad bowl she's holding.
Muttering to Ned, she says. "Or maybe someone forgot to tell us there'd be a celebrity guest."
Damian reaches the doorway, his taller frame now impossible to ignore as he leans past MJ to survey the group. Gwen's breath hitching as his emerald eyes stopped briefly on hers.
'Hm? What's with the reaction? Oh, don't tell me…'
Doing little to hide the amusement in her tone, Eva adds [I think that makes two now.]
'Nope and I don't think so, MJ didn't give me that impression. As for Gwen… We'll see.'
Looking at the newcomers, they looked just as he remembered them in his memories. Ned looked average, about 175 cm (5 '9), slightly shorter than Peter, with what could only be said to be a "dad bod" in the making. Round face and goofy grin, short dark brown, messy hair. Styling a simple outfit that screamed "I'm a proud nerd", a hoodie of Star Wars, cargo pants and shoes best described as "my mom bought these for me".
Peter was a little taller as said before, standing at 178-179 (5 '10). Sporting the signature "sleeper build" that couldn't hide from Damian's-Nightwing trained eye. Baggy brown sweater, oxford style black jeans and beat-up sneakers, and of course, his backpack. His face sported large, hazel-brown eyes with dark circles, sharp and otherwise handsome features that hid behind his tired expression and big eyebags, it seemed summer was anything but a break for the friendly neighbour.
Lastly, there was the one that gave the most complicated feelings to Damian, Gwen Stacy. She was a stark reminder that this was not a fictional world, if any doubt lingered on him. A beautiful girl, not losing to Watson in the looks department, if anything they represented different sides of the spectrum.
While MJ was the hot model type pretty, Gwen gave the vibes of classical hollywood pretty smart girl, the type that would take of her glasses and suddenly you'd see that she is a 10 out of 10, except you didn't need for her to take the glasses off, they instead added to her charm. Overall a wifey smart girl type of pretty.
Standing somewhere around 170-173 cm (5'7-5'8). Long and straight, silk like platinum blonde hair, with some golden undertones. An Oval face shape tending to heart shaped, with a soft and feminine jawline ending in a slightly pointed chin.
Above you'll notice her high cheekbones of rosy colour and soft contour leading to large, almond shaped eyes with a slight outer tilt upwards. Naturally long and blonde eyelashes subtly highlighted by her mascara. Bright sapphire-blue irises that really popped out.
Then came a pair of eyebrows slightly thicker than MJ's but equally well groomed, still blonde but slightly darker than her hair. Centering her face was her small button nose, with a straight bridge and rounded tip. Finally for her face, there were her pale pink lips, also full but with a less defined cupid's bow compared to Mary Jane. All encased in light makeup that subtly enhanced her features.
Sporting a more athletic hourglass again when compared to Mary Jane, she had a surprisingly toned body for someone that mostly works on labs and science fairs, as she has barely done any extra curricular cheerleading as of last year. Narrow and graceful shoulders, more modest but still plentiful chest (compared to you know who). A waist that did not look too thin nor too full, rather cinched and elegant, making for equal parts beautiful and elegant proportions. Lastly there were her shapely, supple and long legs.
All her attributes were properly highlighted on the outfit that complemented her vibe, stylish but "unintentionally" charming.
Her characteristic thin headband in black. A fitted black turtleneck with an oversized blazer over it, a pleated navy blue mini skirt that showed off her legs while covering her appropriately, not losing its property. Knee high thin black socks paired with equally dark colored ankle boots as well as a small silver necklace and small bag. Giving off a smart and charming vibe.
(Again, this is more a description than it is Damian's thoughts, just to be clear, although she is 18 already as her birthday is April 18th, still the same applies, it will take a while for Damian to assume that, for all intents and purposes, he is a young man in his late teens again.)
Going back to reality, as it only took a moment for Damian to analyze them all, a newly acquired habit of his, courtesy of Grayson enhancing his own observation skills, Damian was again confronted with the reality of having in front of him a dear friend of his that is supposed to die in a not too far destiny. 'Not in this timeline, not if I can help it'.
Again, hiding all his thoughts behind a poker face, he said in a dry tone. "Leeds, done complaining about my guest list? The lasagna's getting cold."
Gasping dramatically, Ned said "Homemade lasagna? Okay, who are you and what have you done with the guy who used to microwave Pop-Tarts?"
The tension breaks as laughter ripples through the group, even Peter cracks a smile, though his eyes dart nervously between MJ and Damian. Gwen, however, notices how MJ's shoulder brushes Damian's arm as they step aside to let everyone in. Making her jaw tighten.
Pushing past Peter, with her characteristic brightness she said "I brought your favorite; Greek salad, no olives. Extra feta." While she thrusts the bowl at Damian, her cheeks pink.
In response, an equal parts sarcastic and annoyed voice sounds in his head [What did I tell you?] Eva doubles down.
'Oh shut it, maybe she's just trying to be nice because of my parents'.
What a snort she ends their conversation. Thankfully conversing with Eva takes fractions of a second due to their connection [Again, whatever lets you sleep at night buddy].
Hiding his thoughts with a grin, Damian comments "Still remember my order, Stacy? Should I be flattered or scared?"
Peter snorts as he shuffles inside "Scared. Definitely scared. Gwen once hacked the school database because they 'misgraded' her chemistry quiz by one point".
Smacking Peter's arm, Gwen glared at him with fake indignation "It was two points, and you helped me!"
As the group files into the apartment, Ned elbows Peter, whispering loudly. "Dude. Dude. MJ's here. And Damian's all…" *He gestures vaguely at Damian's new physique, then mimes an explosion with his hands*.
Glancing at MJ, then away quickly Peter says "Yeah. I noticed".
MJ, overhearing, arches an eyebrow at Damian, who just shrugs. Yet she notices a flicker of smugness in his expression. Gwen, meanwhile, pointedly adjusts her glasses, her gaze lingering on the way MJ's fingers linger near Damian's elbow as they walk to the table and comments under her breath "Oh, perfect."
Damian, ever-observant, catches her tone and as the last bits of delusions about Gwen not liking him vanish, he shoots her a questioning look, but she just smiles tightly and marches toward the kitchen, leaving him to sigh and ponder this unique info that for some reason, previous Damian hadn't caught up on 'Was it that naive?'
[Yes] is all that he hears in response.
Sitting everybody in front of their assigned seat, as he had prepared all their specials and put them in a plate each. For Ned, his favorite garlic knots, a homemade lemonade just like Gwen likes it and a special entry of market cookie dough for Peter, a favorite treat that Damian could never understand, as open as he was. Everything around a ceramic trade for the lasagna, the one his mother always used when he cooked it for him.
As plates are passed and glasses are filled, the air hums with an unspoken type of tension. Gwen keeps "accidentally" bumping knees with Damian under the table. Something that doesn't escape Damian and MJ's notice–'cause of course it doesn't–and she smirks into her wine glass (Much to Damian's complaints as he wasn't fond of enabling teens to drink, even as he started to drink much younger himself, aging makes you hypocritical like that).
Peter, meanwhile, is doing his best impression of a normal person, which is to say he's currently trying to balance a garlic knot on his nose to make Ned laugh. Spoiler, it's not working.
Suddenly, MJ leans forward, chin propped on her hand "So, Parker. How's the cool kids table treating you these days?"
The question lands like a grenade. Peter freezes, the garlic knot tumbling onto his plate. Ned winces. Gwen's eyes darted between them before turning to her plate, suddenly very interested in the salad.
Forcing out a chuckle, he says "Oh, you know. Same old. Flash still calls me 'Penis Parker, Punny Parker, etc.' Damian jumps in to meddle while Before Osborn tells him to, and I still-"
Then Mary Jane cuts him off, with an uncharacteristically softer voice. "I'm sorry, Peter."
Pin drop silence. Even Ned stops chewing. Peter stares at MJ like she's just spoken in Kryptonian.
Blinking repeatedly, all Peter could muster was: "For…?"
MJ gestures vaguely to herself and then to both Damian and him "For being a shitty friend. For not stepping in when I should've."
Gwen's grip tightens around her fork. Damian watches Peter's face carefully. Observing the way his jaw clenches, the way his fingers twitch toward his sleeve, where a faint bruise peeks out. Spider-Man business, he assumed. Then, before Spidey could Spider-humor his way out of the situation-
Damian casually reaches for the garlic bread "Wow, Parker. Those are some impressive bruises. You took up boxing or just really bad at walking through doors?"
Peter yanks his sleeve down, laughing a bit too loudly "Both? Also, got an internship at the Daily Bugle. Jameson's got me fetching coffee and dodging thrown staplers. It's basically fight club up in there."
Ned perks up at this and finishes changing topics "Dude, does that mean you work with Betty Brant? Is she as hot up close as-" Then Ned stops himself, realizing Gwen is glaring daggers at him. "...As she is in, uh, ethical journalism?"
Peter blushes at the comment but refuses to give his two cents about it, merely laughing it off, something that doesn't go unnoticed by both Damian and MJ.
'So is his love interest Betty this time? Or is he still into Liz? Be it as it may. Thank god, at least I don't have to feel extra bad about Gwen-'
Suddenly Mary Jane snorts into her wine, kicking Damian under the table. When he raises an eyebrow, she flicks her eyes toward Gwen, who's currently rearranging Damian's silverware for him probably 'because he looked uncomfortable.' Damian rolls his eyes, but faintly smirks, trying to hide his own awkwardness at the situation.
Whispering to Damian she goes "Someone's playing Stepford Girlfriend tonight."
Whispering back at her he says "Play nice, darling. Jealousy's your color, not hers. Also, Stepford? What are you fifty ye-?"
This only earns him Mary Jane kicking him even harder. Making Gwen notice their whispering to pointedly slide Damian his water glass closer to him… With enough force to make it spill a little.
In a sweet voice she tells him "Hydration's important, Damian."
To this Peter starts grinning, finally relaxing. "Wow. Is this what normal people talk about at dinner? Because I feel so seen right now."
Raising his glass, Damian offers a toast: "Pff. To 'being normal', then."
Clinking glasses with one another, Peter a beat too late, his fingers brushing the bruise on his wrist again.
Damian catches his eye, voice dropping just for him, whispering just so he could hear it "Seriously, man. You're not alone in whatever fight club you've got going on."
Peter's smile wavers. For a second, it looks like he might actually talk, but his instincts kick in and he goes back to grinning, back to deflection mode. "Says the guy who turned into a GQ model over summer. What's your secret, Rossi? Dark magic?"
Ned gasps at this and adds "Oh my God, what if it is dark magic? Damian, did you sell your soul for abs? Because honestly? Respect."
The table erupts in laughter. Even Gwen, though hers is a tad more stifled. MJ watches Damian carefully as he deflects with a joke about 'never forget eating your veggies,' but she doesn't miss the way his knuckles whiten around his fork. There's something he's not saying. And that–the mystery of it–irritates her more than Gwen's blatant flirting.
…
Without noting the passage of time and briefly speaking about his parents passing, something everybody noticed Damian wasn't quite ready to talk about. So after everybody offered him their own comfort words, including a look of understanding from Peter, a feeling both shared with sad smiles. He eased the tension with a joke at poor Peter's expense, the night continued with more laughs and banter, Gwen's clumsy flirting attempts that could only go over an oblivious teens head like Peter and Ned and MJ's snarky, almost annoyed but subtle remarks about it.
Sadly, their good time came to an end as Ned's mom came to pick him up due to it being already dark outside, with the clock suddenly pointing at 9:49 p.m., Ned offered to take everybody home, to which MJ refused, saying Damian promised to drive her home, much to Damian's surprise. Consequently, Gwen refused too and asked Damian if he could also drive her home, to which he could only agree.
As Ned's mom's SUV idles at the curb. Peter lingers near the passenger side, exchanging last-minute jokes with Damian while MJ and Gwen stand a few paces away in a tense, unspoken standoff. Damian's expression caught between amusement and exasperation at how things are turning out.
Ned leans out the car window as he says "Dude, that dinner was awesome. We have to do this again soon. Maybe next time at my place. Mom's been dying to try her new lasagna recipe".
At this, Peter adds "Yeah, definitely. And hey, thanks for the ride, man. Saved me a long subway trip."
This time Ned's mom answers for him from the driver's seat with a warm, motherly smile. "Anytime, Peter! You boys stay safe, alright?"
"Thank you, Miss Leeds!" Is the only thing Peter says before he turns to MJ, who's been pointedly ignoring the awkward energy between Gwen and Damian while grinning.
He exhales before taking his hand from his pocket to rub his neck, in classic Peter nervous fashion, before speaking in a soft tone. "Hey. Look, I know things got weird after… everything. But we're cool, right?"
Mary Jane crosses her arms with a small smirk as she says "Define 'cool'," To which Peter laughs weakly. "Y'know. Not avoiding each other in the hallway. Not pretending we don't know each other."
MJ rolls her eyes, muttering in mock begrudgement. "Fine. But only 'cause you're tragically bad at pretending."
Grinning with relief evident in his voice and tone, he responds: "Deal."
As he hops on the back of the SUV he hears. "Also, you owe me a coffee now. For emotional damages."
Peter with a mock offended tone goes "What? It should be the other way around!"
To which Mary Jane, already walking backward toward Damian's entrance door, says with a widening smirk "Too late. Terms are set."
To end with a final laugh, Ned added after Parker. "Alright, losers, we out. Don't let Damian's ego swell too much."
Peter shakes his head as he closes the door of the car while laughing, watching as MJ, Gwen, and Damian disappear around the corner, with a smile on his face at having regained a friend as well as being able to spend a night out with friends in a 'normal' fashion, a term that lately started to feel foreign.
He commented. "This was nice, we should do it more often."
"Totally dude. I'll be the host next time, Mom's cooking will keep Damian humble for some time, can't have his transformation get to his head too much!" Said Ned as the car drove off.
"Hahaha, you're right on that one. With his new looks it would be unbearable if he gets too cocky…"
…
In the dimly lit garage that smelled faintly of motor oil and leather. On the corner where Natasha's motorcycle usually was there were only some oil marks on the ground.
But Damian's attention is on the other two cars; a sensible black SUV and a sleek, silver Lexus SC 430, his father's favorite and personal car. Running a hand along the Lexus' hood in an approving manner he said softly "Say what you will about the old man… but he had taste".
Mary Jane and Gwen exchange glances. The unspoken tension crackles. Suddenly, Gwen is already stepping forward with her usual "sweet" face towards the passenger front seat "So. Shotgun rules?"
Raising an eyebrow, MJ responded. "Pretty sure I called dibs when we left the front door."
With her best innocent face, Gwen quipped back. "Funny, I didn't hear you."
Without losing a beat, MJ shot back in a dry tone. "Funny, I didn't ask".
To add to the current headache, Damian had to hear the off-handed comments of Eva.
[Ohh, the cats are fighting.]
'Let it go, will you?' He said in exasperation.
[Sure, I'll stop when they stop trying to bounce on your d-]
Sighing in a low voice, he interrupted her 'Haa-Eva, please.'
[Hmph! Fine.]
Finally she relented, yet he could swear he felt a certain mirth in her voice, as if her little jealousy bout was fabricated, while turning to address the situation.
Taking a quarter out of his pocket, he started "Ladies. Let's keep it civil. Choose, heads or tails?
As soon as he finished he heard MJ muster "Heads" with visible annoyance at having to play this game.
"Tails for you then," he says pointing at Gwen before he flicks it, catches it and slaps it onto his wrist. Much to her annoyance too.
After taking his hand off, Damian muttered with no suspense. "Heads it is."
Turning to look at both of them, MJ made a peace sign with her fingers while saying: "As you nerds like to say, fortune favors the brave!" before diving into the front seat in a triumphant manner.
To which Gwen commented under her breath, "Rigged system," before slumping at the back.
As the Lexus roars to life, MJ immediately reclined her seat, stretching like a cat in the sun. Brushing her knees against Damian's right hand on the stick shift, just slow enough for Gwen to notice.
In a sly tone she says "Y'know, Rossi. I didn't know you looked so good while handling a stick shift," while turning to Damian before batting her lashes "Wanna ditch Gwen and go joyriding?"
Damian nearly chokes at the sudden comment and Gwen makes a noise like a stepped-on kitten. With a voice as cold as the nights in Brooklyn, she shot from the back. "Wow. Really subtle, Watson."
Grinning after getting the reaction she wanted and unrepentant she pressed, "What? I'm just appreciating the craftsmanship." She pats the dashboard, eyes locked on Damian "Solid handling."
As much as Damian was amused at what MJ was doing, he remarked with a dry tone "Keep it up, Watson, and I'll make you walk." She laughs, but doesn't move her knee. Gwen stares out the window, sulking. The city lights blur past.
Sobering up slightly, this time with a softer and more genuine tone she says "For real, though. Thanks for tonight. Overtly sweet pastries included."
Smiling at the back, Gwen adds "Yeah. It was… nice. We should do it again sometime."
To which he only grunted back a "Hm." With a tone that indicated "You're welcome," in Damian's non-verbal dictionary.
As the talking slows down, MJ comments "So, Stacy. Think your dad's still up?" Checking her phone, Gwen responds "Probably. He's a light sleeper. And he always waits up when I'm out late. Not that it happens often."
While glancing at her in the rearview Damian says "He's going to interrogate me, isn't he?" While grinning, she answers "Oh, absolutely. Don't worry though, he likes you. He thinks you're 'one of the good ones'. Whatever that means."
Snorting, MJ comments on the side "Wow. High praise from Captain Stacy."
Damian doesn't respond, but there's a faint smirk at the corner of his mouth.
…
As they Lexus rolls at a stop in front of Gwen's house, Damian notices the blonde's badly covered discomfort at letting him and MJ alone for a late night ride home.
Shortly after, they can see Captain George Stacy standing leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed but a neutral expression, indicating his understanding of the situation.
With a forced casual tone, Gwen breaks the silence. "Well. Thanks for the ride."
Yet, contrary to her words, she doesn't move. Damian turns off the engine, glancing at her. "Forgetting something?"
Startled, she quickly says "W-What? No, I just-" Cutting herself off, she exhales sharply before opening the door. "Never mind."
Giving an exhale himself, Damian hops off the car with a bag in his hand, but stands by the hood on the other side, at a respectful distance.
Closing in on them in the meantime, Captain Stacy gets within a couple steps from both his daughter and Damian. That's when he gives Damian a firm nod. Was it approval? Sympathy? Damian couldn't really tell. "Rossi," he says. Two syllables, yet Damian could feel the condolences behind the tone.
Captain Stacy was an old school man in that way, the type to not really talk about feelings between men, leaving words like 'You holding up?' to be read in between lines, in between tones.
Looking at him straight as a spear, unflinching, with no false pretense Damian met his gaze evenly. "Captain," was all he said back.
Meanwhile, Gwen suddenly fumbles with her bag, feeling self conscious at seeing Damian being under the scrutiny of her father, even if it wasn't in that way. She hastily tried to explain, almost by reflex. "Dad, we were just-"
"I know why you were there, sweetheart. No need to spin me a story." His eyes briefly moved to MJ, before focusing back on Damian. "Lasagna?"
Surprised at his words, Damian spoke as he extended the bag. "How'd you kn-"
"Kid, I ate your mother's cooking for four years. She always had a habit of cooking too much." While giving a semblance of a smile, he reached for the bag while saying: "Glad you keepin' the tradition going."
Damian's expression hardens as knot forms in his throat. He doesn't trust himself to speak, so he just nods. George's expression softens at that, even if just slightly. "Gwen. Inside. It's late."
Gwen scrambles on her feet, but not before shooting Damian a look that's equal parts 'Sorry' and 'Don't you dare go to sleep before texting me'. MJ watches the exchange with raised eyebrows, wisely staying silent.
As Gwen reaches the porch, George lingers for a moment longer, his voice dropping. In a voice only Damian could hear. "Anytime you need a break from these hooligans, my door's open. Bring some more lasagna next time."
He claps the roof of the Lexus twice in cop fashion, a code for 'You're good to go', before following Gwen inside. Damian sits frozen for a heartbeat, staring at the closed door.
Mary Jane's voice snaps him back to reality. Whistling before speaking. "Damn. And my dad just grunts at you from behind his newspaper."
Damian exhales sharply, shaking off the moment as he shifts gears. It alleviated the moment to remember this current version of Philip Watson was not overtly abusive to his family, but rather they had a strained relationship due to his emotional neglect, which was still bad, but could've been much worse.
The Lexus glides away from the curb, but the weight of that exchange lingers in the air between them; heavy, but not unwelcome.
Easing tensions, Damian finally looks at MJ and says. "Told you he liked me." MJ grinning, kicking her feet up on the dash says "Curious, I remember it was Gwen who said that. And I remember telling you Stacy's got a crush. Now drive, Rossi. I want fries."
Damian laughs, and just like that, the night feels light again. But as they round the corner, he spares one last glance at the rearview mirror, where George Stacy's silhouette still watches from the window, a silent sentinel in the dark.
…
Finishing what felt like an eventful day, in spite of not having practiced much with his powers. A showered Damian was now on his bed, looking at the ceiling as he liked to do before sleeping, thinking about the day.
[Had fun on your little improvised date?] Is what Eva said once his thoughts became still.
"It wasn't a date, we just drove around a bit. Stopped to eat some fries and then I took her home. That's it."
[Yeah, you forget just the little detail of the redhead constantly trying to flirt with you in the meantime.] She said with fake outrage.
Sighing for what felt like the upteenth time that day, he insisted "And you forget how empty of real attraction were her attempts."
[Ha, that's how it always starts with girls like her, first it is just jokes and then-]
Interrupting her before she could finish, Damian only mutters. "Eva."
[Tsk. You know damn well I'm right.] As he took their conversation to his inner world, he could see the construct of light Eva currently used as her default form 'Hmph!' her head to the side.
"I didn't want to ruin the vibes you know, like it or not, she was once a close friend to the new me for a long time before we went our different ways. And the 'current me' has inherited all those feelings and experiences too. You also know that unlike Gwen, she doesn't mean anything by flirting with me, that's just how she likes to play around."
Not wanting to continue what she saw as a pointless conversation, she ended her piece by saying [Whatever. You're so obnoxiously oblivious when you want to. It's obvious anyone would fall for you if you keep interacting with them…]
"What was that?"
[Nothing, good night, jackass.] Unwilling to elaborate, she dispersed her form and disappeared from his mental landscape, or at least it looked like that's what happened.
"Haa… Good night, Eva. See you tomorrow, dear." He said, trying his best to calm her down.
He went back to the real world before closing his eyes. Digesting Eva's words, as she probably had some truth to them.
He felt conflicted. As gorgeous as MJ and Gwen were, the predominant part of the two Damian's personalities saw their behaviour as young teens who were being too hasty with 'love', even if he himself had his first relationship around this age. Again, it was his hypocrisy talking.
He knew his views would change and evolve with time as they always did. But for now, both were merely good friends to have around, and that was the problem.
Unlike the women he used to 'play around with', these were dear friends to him, so he neither wanted to take advantage of them nor could he bear to break their hearts, in the case of Gwen. Maybe it was the mommy issues talking, but he always had the softest spot for kind women who treasured him as much as he treasured them.
But as he also liked to say, that's a problem for future Damian, so he just closed his eyes and tried to make the best of the last nights of his summer break.