One evening, while lounging in a booth of a quiet bar with friends.

"Must be nice to be in a stable relationship." You glance up from your phone when you hear one of your friend scoff bitterly. You raise an eyebrow when another friend teases,

"So who's the clingy one between you two, hm?"

Damon, sitting beside you, shifts slightly at the question. His head lazily resting against yours— occasionally nuzzling, one arm around your waist and the other draped over your shoulder playing with the ends of your hair, and body sitting so close to you he might as well have been sitting on your lap.

But with no hesitation at all,

"{{user}}, obviously." Damon mutters, in a matter-of-fact manner.