Damian lay on the couch, idly popping gum. It was summer and he was bored. Without his usual activities to fill his hours, he was left at loose ends. Simon was no help- all the man wanted to do was relax after the school year.

“Come on! You’ve been doing nothing for a whole week!”

Simon grumbled from the other room. “It’s nice. You’ll understand when you’re older. Go find something to do. What did you do during the year?”

Even though he was fairly sure it was a rhetorical question, he answered, “I did my homework and- uh, buttered the lobster.”

There was a pause. “What?”

Damian rolled his eyes. “You know, choke the chicken, beat the meat, stroke the salami… um… blood the serpent, pull the peter, polish the dolphin, peel the banana, chase the weasel, give flipper a backrub, make pudding, enforce the ‘no fly zone,’ get to be better friends with Willy…”

“Are those all supposed to be the same thing?” Simon appeared from his office, looking more than a little confused.

Damian stared at him. “You’re joking.”

Simon shook his head.

Damian quickly searched his mind for a more common name. “Polish the family jewels?”

Simon flushed. “Damian!”

The redhead just shrugged. “You asked. You’ve seriously never heard those terms before?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “How about worship the finger prince? Or make the Cyclops fight the five headed monster until he cries? Or-”

“That’s enough! And no, I’ve never heard any of those.”

Damian stared at him for a moment before grinning. “I’ll give you a demonstration,” he offered, shoving a hand down his jeans.

Simon scowled, trying to stop from blushing. “Don’t be immature,” he snapped, more irritated at himself than Damian. He was getting hard just thinking about it. It didn’t help matters that Damian shirtless and was obviously happy to have a hand down his pants.

The young man blinked at him. “I should so be immature. I’m fifteen and didn’t have a childhood.”

Simon winced, Damian eyes widening a moment later. He should not have said that. “Sorry,” he said quickly. “Didn’t mean to-”

“Don’t be. It’s true,” Simon replied glumly, guilt swelling not for the first time since his admission and subsequent agreement a couple weeks ago.

Damian quickly stood, pulling his hand out and wiping it on his jeans. He used his other hand to slip an arm around Simon’s waist. “We’ve been over this,” he began warily. “All guys are immature until they die. Well, most. You’re an exception. And being with you is by far the best thing for me.”

Simon sighed. “Yeah,” he muttered, pulling back and sliding back into his study. The thick wood door shut with a  resounding thud, leaving Damian hovering outside of it, uneasy and shamefaced.

--

Simon stared blankly at the wall, tempted to ignore the soft knock at his study door. When it came again, and then a third time, he finally stood with a sigh, glancing at the clock. Much to his surprise, he found he had been sitting there for a good hour, stewing.

He turned the doorknob. As soon as he had opened it a crack, it was flung out and a bouquet was shoved into his face.

Simon blinked, staring at the colorful assortment of flowers. “W-What?” was all he could manage.

Damian lowered the huge bouquet slightly so Simon could see him. He looked anxious. “It was all I could think of. Sorry for making you uncomfortable.”

Simon softened and pulled Damian into the room. He kissed him on the forehead and took the flowers. “Thank you, I love them. But you didn’t have to.”

Damian beamed at him. “I wanted to. I really am sorry.”

Simon smiled wryly. “Nothing to be sorry of. You just reminded me of something I should have known already.”

Damian scowled at him. “I’m very mature for my years,” he informed him, crossing his arms and stamping his foot.

Simon grinned and Damian smiled, letting his arms slide to hang at his sides again.

“Really, why did this bother you so much?”

Simon frowned. “Just reminded me of how young you are. And how out of touch with it I am.”

Damian shrugged. “I think it’s cute.”

Simon shrugged back. “Maybe.” He paused. “Damian, this isn’t a real relationship.” He tried to stop a sigh at Damian’s  frown. “We’ve ‘been together’ in a ‘relationship’ for a month. We haven’t gone out-”

“I’m fine with it.”

“I’m not. So I guess its that I won’t go out with you. The few times you’ve managed to get me to agree, I’ve treated you like I would any other student. At home, I won’t even kiss you and I know you well enough that you’d be doing much much more than kissing with anyone else.”

Damian sighed gustily at him. “An I understand both sentiments. I even agree with the not canoodling in public. That could get you in serious trouble. And while I don’t agree with the do nothing in private, I do understand it, like I said, and can deal with it. Simon, I like you. I like being around you, I like kissing you, and snuggling with you is more titillating than sex with most people.”

Simon couldn’t help but smile. “Titillate.”

Damian grinned back. “You’re a good influence.”

“It probably doesn’t hurt that you think it’s a funny word.”

“Not at all.”

There was a long silence.

“If I ever have a problem with our ‘relationship,’” he mocked Simon’s previous finger quotation marks with his own and an eye roll, “I’ll let you know. I’ve never been quiet about what I want.”

Simon snorted. “No kidding.” He smiled despite the words. Damian complained a lot about nothing. He was never too serious about any of it, but when he didn’t like something he was extraordinarily vocal about it. The smile faded slightly. “Promise?”

Damian stood on his tip toes to kiss Simon’s mouth lightly. “Promise.” The smile that accompanied the word was dazzling. “Now how about I teach you synonyms for masturbation? And sex for that matter. Ever heard of bumping uglies?”