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There are certain things that are elusive and discreet, but there are others that are as obvious as daylight. One of them is that Grayson has a type. Once would be acceptable, but when a pattern starts to repeat itself, it's obvious it's no longer a coincidence. Damian was trained by people far too competent to believe in coincidences.
First, Gordon. Yes, predictable and acceptable. Then, Koriand'r. Also predictable.
The third time is the one that matters. The most predictable of all, in Damian's opinion, and living proof that Grayson definitely has a type.
"It's not a type, Dami," Grayson argues, because of course he refuses to see the pattern that exists in his romantic relationships, even while he's having this painfully obvious conversation with Damian, making disgusting heart eyes at his phone while texting West.
"Oh, isn't it?" Damian mocks. "Then would you mind explaining why all your romantic partners have red hair and most of them have freckles?"
Honestly, Damian doesn't understand how Grayson even considers himself a detective when he can't see the most obvious of conclusions.
"Red is a nice color, isn't it?" Grayson says, and as if to make his point, he shows Damian his lock screen. In the picture, Grayson has his arms wrapped around West, who's grinning like a fool and stupidly happy.
"That's not the point!" Damian exclaims, but it's already over. Grayson is beyond the point of no return, and Damian simply gives up arguing with him.
*
The pattern repeats. Again.
This time with Todd. Todd's pattern is less obvious than Grayson's, but it's there. During his time with the Outlaws, Todd was surrounded by several redheads, both men and women. Whether Todd got involved with Starfire or Artemis is inconclusive, but what Damian can say with absolute certainty is that Todd is romantically involved with Harper.
Or maybe just sexually.
He knows because he saw it with his own eyes. Even though the sight made Damian feel a particular kind of disgust, he admits the fact that Harper's still traumatized by it, never fails to make him smirk.
In their defense, a dark alley in Gotham is just another place to have sex. They hadn't gone all the way when Damian saw them, but Harper still looks constipated every time they cross paths. So Damian thinks that catching Arsenal with his mouth halfway down Todd's throat was, in a way, worth it.
"You like redheads," Damian comments one day in the cave, where Todd is analyzing a blood sample from a case he's working on.
"Sure. Redheads, brunettes, blondes, black-haired... Whatever." He grumbles, not looking up from the microscope.
"I meant, you have a type."
"I'm not Dick, Demon Spawn," he replies.
"But you're involved with Harper."
"That doesn't mean anything."
And in that moment, Damian notices two behavioral patterns: denial and ignorance. Obviously, Drake and Father don't seem to have realized it. It seems Damian is the only one aware of the redhead curse that's going around.
Good thing he's different, immune to curses or whatever this is.
*
Drake doesn't seem to be into redheads. Brown is blonde, and so is Dowd. Damian is tempted to believe that Drake will be the one to break the redhead curse, and he tries not to wrinkle his nose admitting that the fact Drake is the first different one in the family bothers him.
Why? Because it just does.
But then he gets close to Allen, and Damian realizes the curse is far from over. There are no signs they're seeking a romantic relationship, but Grayson is living proof that "best friends" can end up finding love in each other after years of dancing around it.
He would call it just another pattern, two family members falling for speedsters, if it weren't for Harper breaking that coincidence, so he quickly discards the thought.
"We're friends," Drake says distractedly, eyes still on his laptop during breakfast.
"Just like Grayson and West. Or Todd and Harper."
"Yeah, well. We're friends, friends," Drake mutters, taking a long sip of coffee. "Not friends with benefits or forever friends pining for each other."
"Hey!" Dick protests while Todd gives him the middle finger. Drake doesn't even look up from his screen.
Damian just waits, watching from his spot, for another family member to fall victim to the redhead curse.
But then Drake reveals he's in a relationship with the Clone. Or rather, the Clone lets it slip when he shows up for movie night on Valentine's Day at the Manor.
The presence of Superboy alone is enough to make Damian raise an eyebrow, but another thing he can't help wondering is why he has to bring the older alien along; and why said alien is sitting on the love seat with Father.
"Oh! Finally!" Grayson exclaims when the Clone arrives with the older Kent, and Drake immediately tries to hide behind a pillow on the couch.
"You owe me fifty bucks, Jaybird," Harper grins at Todd, who only scoffs and shakes his head, arms crossed petulantly.
"Seriously, Replacement?" Todd protests, sounding genuinely offended. "Is this your choice?"
"I didn't choose him!" Drake exclaims. "We just happened."
"Kon didn't happen," Grayson mutters. "He's been into you since he was a test tube."
"Harsh, Dickiebird," Harper laughs. "But true."
Damian can't help but notice that Kon-El is not a redhead. In fact, he has black hair.
So he is different, as far as the redhead curse goes. Drake is likely immune to it as well.
Which means that Damian will remain unaffected when his time comes, unlike his older brothers and their apparent weakness towards redheads.
Only... soon, he finds out there's a new curse haunting the family. It's not the redhead or the freckled one. Oh, how he wish it was. But no, this new one is far more dangerous.
The fact that Drake is dating a dark-haired man doesn't really mean anything. Statistically, they make up most of the population, so the odds of someone ending up with one aren't high enough to call it a curse. Still, Damian begins to notice a pattern forming in the Manor. With Grayson and Todd gone, both having returned to their own apartments, a new routine of visitors starts to take shape.
And these visits are starting to look suspiciously similar. Superman and Superboy are around more often than not, and at first, Damian doesn't think much of it. The Clone is dating Drake, and Kent is Father’s best friend. Perfectly reasonable, he tells himself, ready to dismiss it as a meaningless pattern, until the day he makes a serious mistake.
He walks into Father's room without knocking, and there's Kent. Shirtless. On Father's bed. On top of him.
They spring apart immediately, like they've been burned, and Damian's instincts flare to life. Observing the scene with practiced detachment, he takes note of several facts:
1) Father and Kent are half-naked.
2) Both look guilty and disoriented.
3) The sheets are tangled and messy, suggesting they shared the bed.
4) Father is scolding Kent for not noticing Damian walk in, and Kent is muttering that he was distracted.
From these details, Damian reaches a single, undeniable conclusion: Father and Superman are in a romantic relationship.
"How long?" Damian asks, his voice calm but sharp.
"Damian—"
"It's a simple question, Father. It only requires a date."
Father stays quiet for a long moment before finally saying, "A few months."
"Does Jonathan know?" Damian asks, watching Kent shrink a little despite all the power he holds. He's clutching the blanket to his chest like a scandalized maiden, and Damian would almost make a remark about it if it weren't so improper.
"Not yet," Father says quietly. "And… we would appreciate it if you could keep it to yourself for now."
The honesty and vulnerability in his tone are rare, almost disarming. Damian's eyes drop to their hands; still intertwined beneath the rumpled sheets, a small but undeniable sign of affection.
"Your secret is safe with me." Damian says, then turns and walks out the door, his steps quick but firm.
As he returns to the solitude of his bedroom, his mind races to connect all the facts, all the details, to reach the only possible conclusion:
There's a new curse haunting the Manor. He doesn't know whether to call it a Kent curse; a Kryptonian curse; an alien curse, but the one thing he's absolutely certain of is that Damian Wayne is the only person in his family not affected by any kind of curse.
Well, him and Pennyworth. Damian doubts the old butler would fall for any kind of curse. He's immune to such nonsense.
And Damian will be damned if he falls victim to this one as well.
*
Only, that's precisely what happens. Years later.
It's an ordinary day. Jonathan is visiting the Manor, and both are playing Call of Duty in Damian's room when it happens.
"Hah! Got you, Damian!" Jon exclaims, laughing and throwing his controller in the air with a jump of victory.
His smile is bright and blinding, like the sun, and it hits Damian in that exact moment. The revelation comes like an epiphany.
It's all the same, and it all clicks at once, leaving Damian's stomach twisting into tight, painful knots. Damian finds himself blushing and he feels his heart flutter. The fact he's reacting to the smile on Kent's lips instead of the fact Jon beat him at Call of Duty doesn't escape his notice.
So there it is, the one and only undeniable conclusion:
Damian Wayne, youngest son of Bruce Wayne and Talia Al Ghul; son of the Bat, trained assassin since before his voice broke; heir of the Al Ghul dynasty, and the entire Robin mantle... has fallen victim to the curse.
"Damian? Everything okay?" Jon asks. "You look red. You're not getting sick, are you? Should we take you to Leslie?"
He shakes his head, still blushing, and refuses to meet Jon's eyes. "It's fine," Damian lies, and Jon laughs, letting himself fall backwards onto the bed with his arms open wide, his shirt rising a bit to expose his lower belly.
Damian looks away like a shy damsel, feeling heat crawling up his neck to the tips of his ears, and it takes him a moment to notice that the blush in his cheeks is now a different shade of red.
Oh, no. He is doomed.
*
Months later, the Valentine's Day movie night happens again. The cursed ones are all there: Drake with Superboy, Father with Kent, Grayson with West, Todd with Harper. Only now, Jonathan is included, and Damian has to ignore the urge to run away the second he steps into the room and finds Jon already sitting in front of the TV with his hands full of snacks, smiling happily when he sees Damian.
It's only when the movie is halfway through that Damian realizes it.
It's not that Grayson and Todd have fallen to the redhead curse, or that Drake, Father and Damian are affected by the Kryptonian curse.
It's far more simple than that. It is, in fact, painfully obvious when he thinks about it for a moment. So much so that it's embarrassing that he didn't see it sooner.
They all have a type. A very specific, predictable, yet consistent type.
It's not red hair. It's not Kryptonian blood. It's not aliens, not freckles, not speedsters.
It's people who'd die for them.
It's people who'd bleed for them.
People who'd break every rule for them.
People who would love them as much as they love them.
(But if someone asks Damian, he'd say that their loved ones have fallen for the Wayne curse. They're the victims here, after all. They're the ones stuck with them, for better or for worse.)