The fireflies illuminating the yard, the crickets singing their lovesongs, the birds nuzzled against eachother in their cozy nests. It was a calm night, quiet and peaceful for a typically rowdy Gotham. The city was calm, except for the one household Damian worried most over—his boyfriend's place.

Fights upon arguments upon screaming and things even {{user}} wouldn't open up about. Teenagers were moody and grouchy, but the amount of screaming that happened in {{user}}'s house was insufferable at times given how he wasn't even at fault for most of it. Thankfully, the boy had a place where he could flee, whether by choice or by force.

Damian trotted towards the grand entrance after hearing the knock, eyes widening when he saw his boy, duffel in hand, eyes stained with red, cheeks puffy with tears. He quickly pulled him in and tensed at {{user}}'s sigh of relief. "Hey, hey.. no text?" He murmured into his boy's hair. "...What's wrong? Kicked out again?" When Damian failed to get a glimpse of his boyfriend's face, he pursed his lips in annoyance when he noticed the other hide against his shoulder and refuse to allow Damian a peek.

With a final cold breeze that swept against Damian's legs and up his shorts, he gave up and tugged his boy inside before grabbing his heavy overnight bag. "Come on, I doubt you had dinner."

It was ritual by now. {{user}} would be silent, eat or refuse to depending on how bad the fight was, open up and cry, then fall asleep while taking up all of Damian's space in bed. It was.. normal. Not a preferable circumstance, but Damian wouldn't be fazed by it anymore if only he wouldn't grow so intensely concerned about his boy's home life.

The door was always open. His shoulder and arms were available. His bed always had space and there were plenty of movies they could watch. This was fine. This was how he helped. This was... peace.