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"It's alright, Bruce. Your boyfriend's gonna smash their teeth in!" Dick says. He's squeezing his head through the bars to get a better view of said man's entrance. Bruce assumes Dick is envisioning the whole choreographed package. Shattered glass, spread cape, triple somersaults and an Olympic-style vault landing. Dick's face is distorting between the bars. "Any minute now. I'm ready."
Outside the giant bird cage, a painfully inexperienced kidnapper is holding a painfully outdated weapon, carrying out a painfully verbose negotiation with Lucius, and stating a painfully transparent, 100% trackable bank account number to secure his eventual doom. The knot binding Bruce's wrists is the result of tactless improvisation and sheer panic, a pitiful attempt that Bruce is sure to undo in record time. And while metal bending is not his superpower, Batman has a few thoughts about the 3-digit number lock that locksmiths would not be thrilled to hear about.
It would take no effort at all to bust out of the cage, knock their captor out, and go home in time for supper.
Alas, Dick doesn't know.
Nor do the cops outside, nor does GNN.
"This is Vicki Vale of GNN reporting live from Gotham Square, where billionaire philanthropist Bruce Wayne and his ward Richard Grayson are being held hostage by a captor that is demanding-" Vicki pauses, "-a whopping sum of 1.5 million- million? Can someone put up a sign showing the number of zeroes in billion so the poor man knows what he's missing out?" Don't give him any ideas, Vicki. "The police have identified the suspect-"
"She really does hate you." Dick comments.
Bruce sighs. "She'll come around. Don't stick your head too far out."
"But I want to see his cape when he lands!"
"Batman's not coming, Dick. Now is as good a time as any to start trusting the GCPD."
Nothing says unconvinced as convincingly as Dick's massive eye roll.
Bruce ignores him and turns up the volume of his receiver. He's planted a bug on Gordon when he first entered the hotel. Gordon, being Gordon, did not appreciate his tactile nature.
"I suggest you keep your hands to yourself, Mr Wayne." The Commissioner said in no uncertain terms. "Your partner is infamous for his possessive streak and I'm busy enough as it is collecting pulp at daybreak. If you give a rat's ass about my blood pressure, please for the love of God and all that is holy, don't test the Bat."
"Oh don't get your panties in a bunch, Jim." Bruce said, cursing internally when the adhesive didn't stick. "A little dallying can't hurt no one."
"You say that, Wayne, but God knows you're playing with fire." Gordon angled away. The bug hooked onto his suit. "When you piss him off, you better run."
"You sound so sure I'm gonna fuck it up." Bruce patted his shoulder lightly, and grinned when the pat echoed in his comm. "Don't you wanna join us in bed, see for yourself how it works? We fit together like hand and glove."
Gordon yelped, red burning up his neck. "You keep your fucking hands off me or I'll lock you up I swear to God!"
The GCPD, as Dick believes and Bruce predicts, is no help at all.
"Smith! Is the Bat Signal up?" Bruce hears.
"Yes, Sir! It's breaching every lumen cap in Gotham, Sir!"
"Good! Keep it that way!" The cop halts. "Is it personal?"
"I beg your pardon, Sir!"
"Is it personal!" The cop barks. "Is Wayne's family emblem on the sky! Does the big bad bat know his lover boy ain't gonna make it to his cave tonight! Rile him up for fuck's sake!"
Bruce winces. He hopes not to see a paper cut out of his own face projected onto the sky. Lucius must be so amused.
"Any sign of the Bat, Gordon?"
"Not yet, Jerry. Our resident vigilante is making every effort to look presentable tonight." You try wearing 50 pounds on a night-to-night basis, Commissioner. "Can you imagine the Bat in a tux, waiting in line at the Grand Avenue?"
"The horror." Jerry deadpans.
"Indeed." Gordon agrees.
Minutes pass, it seems Dick has reached his own conclusion.
"Bruce," Dick says, hands on his hips, dead serious. "Is it because you've danced with Julie Madison that Batman's late tonight?"
Bruce suppresses his growl. The rookie captor out there clearly runs high on adrenaline and is prone to panicking. Inexperience he can shut down, but unpredictability, he knows, can be dangerous.
"Dick, I'm sure Batman has better things to worry about than my fictional liaison with Miss Madison."
"Is it the time you pushed Lois Lane off a balcony?"
"It was either a 60-floor drop or an impromptu plastic surgery from the Joker. Which do you think Miss Lane prefers?"
"So," Dick cocks his head thoughtfully. "It's when you flirted with Diana Prince and got caught on TV?"
"I was giving her a- an invitation to a party." Bruce adds, "The last man that propositioned Diana got thrown off a cliff."
"Oh! It's because you bought roses for Clark Kent-"
"Listen kid," Bruce grumbles. "Get it out of your head that this has anything to do with romance. You don't save lives because you're in love with somebody and you don't leave them to die because you're not. The superhero business isn't some sappy fairytale romance that you get out of a 90-cent second-hand novel- Dick?"
"Oh Bruce, I see it now. You're perfect for him!" Dick says, zooming in ever closer. "I just don't understand. How can Batman be late for someone like you?"
Bruce falls back a step, and spends a long moment contemplating his life and legacy. This is the freeze frame, record scratch moment in which he reviews every shitty decision he's made, and God knows he has no one to blame but himself.
"Master Bruce," Alfred said to him one night, when he'd just emerged from the shower. "Might I remind you that Master Richard has taken a liking to exploring the Manor in his own time?"
"You may, Alfred, but the Manor is his home. God knows I've wandered my fair share when I was a kid."
Alfred's stare screamed unimpressed. "Indeed you have, Sir. And while you have uncovered a pack of cigarettes that Master Thomas insisted he did not smoke, and a rather appalling dress that Madam Martha insisted she did not own, what will your excuse be when Master Richard discovers an armor fitted to your physique that more resembles an animal than a man?"
"That I am an avid but closeted cosplayer." Bruce said. "Paranoia is my signature not yours, Alfred. The Cave is locked as it is. If the kid has enough brainpower to break in he'll figure out I'm the Bat sooner or later. It's a risk I took taking him in."
"That is all well and good, Master Bruce. But just because a child can decode binaries does not mean he understands the complexities of, say, a man leading a double life with two distinct personalities."
Bruce frowned. "You're telling me that a kid that can get past a voice, iris, and fingerprint sensor can't deduce my secret identity?"
"The gap between knowing and accepting is often wider than you think. If I tell you Master Thomas is the Batman in another world, would you believe me?"
"That's ridiculous, Alfred. My father is the sort of man that'd mistake a mannequin for a man in a department store and then fall over in his attempt to hit it."
"With all due respect, Sir," Alfred said dryly. "To Master Richard, so are you."
To Bruce's credit, Dick did not find the Cave.
What he did find was a gauntlet in Bruce's study, a belt in Bruce's shower, and a groin protector in Bruce's bedroom. The bloodied cowl Bruce was cleaning in the kitchen was not so much a hint but a giant neon sign on his forehead. Granted, in his drugged haze courtesy of Poison Ivy, Bruce wasn't actively hiding his cat-eared mask either.
Hence his seven-year-old ward walked up to him. "Is Batman your boyfriend?"
The incredulous splutter of "What?", the annoyed "Why, and what motivated you to think in that direction?", or the matter-of-fact "No" were all plausible responses. He briefly considered the benefits of Dick's assumption. For one, his sudden disappearances, as well as Batman's all-too-frequent appearances, could be explained by his fictional romance with the Dark Knight. All things considered, he went by "You just found out?", and added a smug raised eyebrow for good measure.
"Wow," Dick's eyes gleamed in excitement, and Bruce wondered what part of that knowledge warranted that giddy reaction. "With Batman? Really? That is wicked cool."
It was the beginning of the end.
"Can you take me to the Batcave? Oh wait, can I please, please see the Watchtower?"
"I want to see the Batmobile! Have you ever ridden in the Batmobile?"
"What's Batman's armor made of? Is it really bulletproof? Have you ever tried to pinch him when he's wearing it?"
Most often of all, Dick asked, "Is he human? Or does he have superpowers like the Flash?" Then more giddily he added, "Can I train to be like him?"
On good days, Bruce entertained his questions. "You don't think he's more like Superman?"
Dick opened his mouth, and a mouthful of Captain Crunch rolled out. "He bleeds a lot. I don't think he can heal very fast."
Bruce pushed a tissue box across the dining table. "How did you know?"
"One time I put my laundry into your basket," Dick made a face. "All my shirts came out pink."
"Oh."
"Is he nice to you?" Dick asked, haphazardly wiping his milk-soaked front. "If not I'm gonna punch him. Teach him a lesson."
Bruce swallowed his snort. "He's a fine fellow, Dick. I appreciate your concern."
"What's he like?"
"Uh. Temperamental. Paranoid. Manipulative." Bruce scratched his neck idly. "Emotionally constipated sometimes. He's probably not the best conversational partner. Definitely not a cuddler."
Dick paled. "Bruce, he sounds like a total dick!"
"He's a fine fellow, really. At least he doesn't attempt small talk when he's driving."
"Okay." Dick lowered his voice conspiratorially. "What about- What's it like to have sex with the Batman?"
Bruce almost choked on his coffee. "Don't you think that's a very personal question to ask?"
"I won't tell anyone else." Dick whispered.
Bruce sighed. "Let's just say he's as good a companion as my right hand."
"Is that good or bad?"
"It's been ten months. I'm still with the guy." Bruce shrugged. "I'm sure you can reach your own conclusions."
"Sir, Master Richard has informed me that as of the past year, you have been dating yourself. That is rather disturbing news."
"Trust me, Alfred, I've become no more narcissistic than the usual me." At Alfred's disapproval, Bruce elaborated. "The boy noticed that Batman frequents the Manor more than he has reason to. I think this story works as a convenient excuse."
"Might I remind you that your tales have a tendency to- how do the Americans put it?- blow up in your face?"
"Spectacularly and frequently so, Alfred."
Bruce spotted the Bat Signal at nine. His birthday party was still in full swing, and Vicki Vale was hot on his trail.
"Dick," he patted the boy on the shoulder. "Can I leave you to it? I need to-" Bruce mimed running off.
Dick flashed him a grin and saluted. "No problemo! Have a good time!"
Bruce didn't think much of it. He did put a bug beneath Dick's collar, in case the mob boss he was tracking showed up after his leave.
It's between punching and getting punched that he heard Vicki's voice from his comm. "Richard honey, have you seen Bruce? I swear I saw him at the bar just now."
"He's gone back to bed." Dick said.
"Has he really? That's awfully early. Is he sick?" She grumbled, which Bruce assumed was more to herself than to Dick. He narrowly avoided getting his teeth knocked out by the Joker's long gun. Vicki continued, "I even wore my best dress. What a shame."
"Uh-uh," Dick said, as Bruce flipped the Joker over and they both landed on a tent, limbs entangled. "That's not gonna work on him."
"Oh what do you know, you're just a-" Vicki snapped, then she shut up, and alarms blared in Bruce's head. "Oh, Richard darling, tell me, what do you know?"
Bruce fell asleep at five to the breaking news of the GCPD finding the Joker bound at Amusement Mile. He woke up to morning papers that had both him and his alter ego plastered all over the headlines.
Dick offered him a sheepish grin at the table, whereas Alfred just said, "I told you so."
"You have received 5 voicemail messages from," the computer paused. "Superman."
"Initiate playback," Batman instructed.
"Rao's blazing hotcakes, B! Bruce Wayne? What the effing hell?"
"Is this some Hollywood publicity stunt because you've got to be-"
"Pick up your comm, B! Bruce fucking Wayne I can't-"
"Computer, delete. Delete voicemail. Is voicemail deleted? Computer, can you confirm?"
"Um, B, hello? It's Superman. I'm just calling to say I- I may have drunk dialed you. I don't exactly- I don't recall what I said- exactly what I said. But I may have said something really offensive and embarrassing so- sorry. I hope you don't check voicemails."
"End of playback. If you would like to save-"
"Computer, save to encrypted folder, 'Clark Kent'." His hand hovered over the power button. On second thought, "Computer, initiate playback."
The gossip value of Bruce Wayne's sexuality had taken a second place to his dating the Dark Knight.
Following his outburst of "No, I do not know who he is! He takes off everything but the cowl when we have sex!" and "What does it matter whether he's superhuman or human as long as he has good stamina, am I right Lois?" the questions he got made a questionable turn.
"Mr Wayne, how well have you adjusted to swinging on lines? Is the Batmobile as comfortable as your Lamborghini?"
"Mr Wayne! Is Batman a tender lover? Is he a fan of BDSM?"
"Which gargoyle is your favorite for an early morning sexcapade?"
The camera flashes blinded Bruce until the lift doors shut.
Lucius patted his back. "Well Mr Wayne, as the song goes, the greatest love of all is to love yourself."
"Inspirational." Bruce muttered, nursing a headache from the media attention he got between exiting his car and entering his office. Such would be his everyday life for the foreseeable future. He spotted a flyer on top of Lucius' files. "What is that?"
"This?" Lucius waved the flyer like a parent baiting an infant. "It's promo for the new Grand Avenue musical, Billionaire and the Bat. A rom-com revamp of Phantom of the Opera."
"Beauty and the Beast, you mean."
"I'm hardly as well versed as you are, Mr Wayne, so it's all the same to me. Does manic and depressive you float your boat?"
"Hilarious."
"It is." Lucius turned the flyer over. "The Bat does all the dirty work to keep his lover's city safe, but the Billionaire falls for the Knight in shiny red underpants. The two engage in an epic battle of life and death. At the end of the day both their capes get sucked into the engines of the Billionaire's private jet. They crash, the end. It's the most tear-jerking tragedy since Les Misérables."
"Lucius," Bruce scowled. "Please send the company details of said theater to my office. It's been too long since I've last initiated a hostile takeover."
Bruce Wayne's life had turned to hell, but neither was Batman's any good, when the JLA had decided that his private life was a public matter.
"Brucie Thomas Wayne?" Lantern snickered. "It's like Brainiac fell in love with Bizarro! If Bats can't spend five minutes around me without throwing a fit, how can he possibly stand Wayne?"
"Come on Hal, isn't it glaringly obvious that Batman's in it for the money?" Arrow said. "Someone's got to fund this big ass satellite. Who better than the guy that's never off the cover of Forbes magazine?"
"Money is so overrated. Have you seen Wayne's ass in a suit though?" Lantern raised his voice. "Hey Supes, you'd tap that ass if Wayne asked, wouldn't you? Get your Kryptonian blood pumping in a ménage à trois with the big bad bat and his sugar daddy?"
"Oh shove it Hal, that's sexual harassment."
Batman pressed his hand flat against the fingerprint sensor. The door slid open. "Lantern. Arrow." He greeted coldly, ignoring their frozen poses. He grabbed a sandwich and plopped down a chair.
He had barely finished half when someone curled their arm around his shoulder.
"So, you're dating Bruce Wayne." Superman slid into the neighboring seat. "When were you gonna tell me? Were you gonna tell me?"
"Has any good ever come out of me telling you anything?"
"Oh don't be like that B, that was one time!" Superman said. "Is it serious? You and Wayne?"
"What did I miss?" Flash slipped to his other side, effectively trapping Batman between himself and Superman. He started stuffing doughnuts into his mouth, chewing and swallowing at supersonic speed. "Will there be Batman merchandise from Wayne Enterprises? I'm looking to gift a tumbler to Wally."
"There will not be any tumblers." Batman said.
Flash's face dropped.
"He can have a batarang."
Flash lit up. "Oh, cool!"
"B, about that meeting we've been postponing for ages-"
"Later, Superman." Batman checked the time. He had promised to pick up Dick and take him to the movies. "I need to head back into Gotham."
Superman chased him all the way to the hanger. "Need a lift?" He offered.
Batman didn't mean to. He did anyway. "How?" He asked.
"Uh," Superman stammered. "I can carry you- your jet? Or you can get in a space suit and I'll just-"
"Throw me at Gotham like a human missile?"
"No!" Superman exclaimed. "Of course not."
Batman regarded him for a long moment. Then he pointed his key at the WayneTech jet he'd been testing. He had had little reason to hide it, now that his affair was a valid excuse. It beeped.
Superman's expression soured some more.
"I would accept, if next time you can figure out the practicalities of your offer, Kal. See you next catastrophe."
Fast forward a week, he's kidnapped out of his own company's anniversary party.
His alter ego is bursting to get out, and if the GCPD still does nothing but post bait ads on the sky, Batman's going to show up with or without the cowl.
But first, he tries to placate his young.
"Dick," Bruce says. "I'm sorry to be the one to burst your bubble, but Batman's not coming."
Dick's disappointment is evident. "What? Why?" He asks. "Oh no. Did you break up with him?"
"Something like that."
"But why?"
"Why?" Bruce whacks his own head for an answer. "We're talking Batman, kiddo. He's a paranoid, obsessive superhero wannabe that beats up clowns for a hobby. Why would anyone date him?"
"I would," Dick sticks his chest up defiantly. "Because he's also kind and selfless and the bravest superhero I know. And I think you're making a big mistake breaking up with him."
"Dick-"
A deafening explosion has Bruce wrapping his arms around Dick. The ceiling collapsed around them, then their captor went flying across the room.
"Superman!" Dick squeals, clapping his hands in enthusiasm.
"Hi Mr Wayne," Superman greets, all dumb smiles and cub scout's salute. "I wasn't about to step in, you know, in case Batman's more inclined to pick you up. I'm actually surprised he hasn't showed up yet but I'm sure he's preoccupied elsewhere. Actually I haven't heard from him all night, I'm feeling a bit antsy." He trailed off. "Don't tell him I said that."
They stay frozen like they're in a staring contest, until Dick tugs on Bruce's shirt.
"Sorry," Superman fumbles with the lock. "I got carried away. Would you like me to-"
"Just break the damn lock already."
"Right, right. Of course." Superman fiddles with the lock some more. "So you and Batman are a thing, huh?"
"Are you a journalist right now or are you a superhero?"
Superman looks taken aback. "I'm... neither. Just a man asking a question."
Bruce gives him a pointed look. "An incredibly personal question."
"Batman is my best friend." Superman argues. "I care about his emotional well-being, and you Mr Wayne... You have a history of changing flavors every week."
"Of course." Bruce says dryly. "You do believe everything you read, don't you?"
"I write some of it, mind you." Superman says, then he bites his lip. "Never mind. I own a blog. It's got 22 followers and I repost photos of cats."
"I'm sure you do." Bruce shrugs out of the ropes. "You know, the number lock you've been fingering for at least a minute now. I've kind of been waiting for you to set it ablaze, but," he sighs. "It's 1-3-5."
"What?" Superman says dumbly.
"I'll do it." Bruce gently brushes his hands away and turns the knobs on the lock. "There."
"Freedom!" Dick screams, running out of the bird cage.
"But," Superman stares at him with wide eyes. "How?"
"Batman taught me." Bruce says, and watches Superman's awe vanish and give way to gloom.
"Right. Of course." He fumbles the open lock, clearly debating his next words. Finally he takes a deep breath. "I heard what you said to Dick."
Bruce raises an eyebrow.
"Super hearing." Superman explains. "I was going to say I would. I would date Batman, if he shows the slightest inclination. So," He offers a small smile. "I'm not supposed to threaten civilians, but... you better watch your back, Mr Wayne."
He looks up to shoot for the skies, when Bruce calls, "You still owe me a meeting!"
Superman halts and turns, "What?"
"The one we've been postponing for ages." Bruce says. "And I've actually wanted that lift you offered. My jet has zero ventilation and my suit isn't made of the most airy material."
It takes another second, and this- this is Bruce's favorite pastime. Seeing the slight raise of eyebrows, the slack of jaw, as the epiphany finally, finally hits.
"You're kidding me." Superman says at last. "You've been dating yourself for ten months?"
"Yes Clark," Bruce grimaces. "It does sound incredibly narcissistic when you phrase it that way."
"Yes, yes you are." Superman groans. "I can't believe- here I was bitching about you with Hal half the time and praising your loaded ass to Lois the other half, for what? You cunning bastard, why didn't you tell me?"
"I sent you roses, you idiot. Even Dick picked up on it."
"Oh." Superman palms his face. "Oh no, did you check your voicemail?"
"I did," Bruce says smugly. "You sounded like the world ended."
"I felt like the world ended, you sadistic jerk! You are so not getting a lift tonight."
"Petty, but I saw that coming." Bruce smirks. "How about we start afresh- can I buy you dinner tomorrow night?"
Things go very smooth after that.
Bruce throws an anger-fueled punch at their captor and lets the cops drag him away. "My lawyers will sue your pants off!" He shouts, flicking the bug he planted on Gordon off in his struggle. "Oh and you better transfer that 1.5 million back into my bank account, not a penny less you jerk!"
It takes another minute of acting for him to realize Dick is missing. He leaves the crowd and finds Dick bidding Superman goodbye, as his colleague shoots for the sky.
"Are you alright?" He wraps his arms around Dick- a little for the cameras, but mostly to show he cares. The boy's eyes are of conflict. "What's wrong?" Bruce kneels down. "Are you hurt?"
"I don't believe it." Dick says, pulling away as if stung. "How could you?"
"What?" Bruce frowns, ever so lost. "How could I what?"
"You asked Superman out? You're cheating on Batman with Superman?" Dick exclaims loudly. "How could you?"
Behind them Vicki Vale pulls a camera to her face. "Thanks to Superman, the police have arrested the captor, and Wayne and Grayson are safe without injury.
However tonight from Grayson we have learned yet another exciting twist to our favorite superhero romance. Is our beloved Prince of Gotham two-timing Batman with Superman- widely known as the world's two deadliest and most controversial superheroes? Will this be the end of Gotham's most infamous modern Cinderella story, or is this the start of a whole new chapter?
This is Vicki Vale of GNN, reporting live from Gotham Square."