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“Brucie Wayne is out in full fucking force tonight.”
"I don’t understand why Father is even dancing with that trollop when he’s in love with Rich–!”
“Guys, come on…”
The Wayne Foundation Charity Auction was one of the biggest social events of the year. Gotham’s rich dressed in their finest attire, flaunting wealth and privilege as they threw their money at items they didn’t need and danced the night away drunk on bubbling champagne all in the name of charity. It was the one event of the year that Alfred insisted that all of the family attend, which is what led Jason, Damian, and Tim to be dressed in perfectly tailored suits as they surrounded the buffet table. The subject of their discussion was dressed in a sleek black tuxedo, a handsome smile on his face as he twirled a beautiful woman across the dance floor. They had no idea who she was. She was the fifth woman Bruce had danced with that night.
Jason popped a shrimp into his mouth, wiping his hand on a napkin instead of his suit—which was his first instinct. But he had sworn to Alfred that he would at least try to be a gentleman tonight. “Where is Goldie anyway?”
“Richard has stepped away to use the facilities.” Damian said sourly. His green eyes were practically glaring daggers into his father’s moving form from across the room.
Jason snorted, “He probably didn’t want to see his boyfriend in the arms of another woman.”
Tim gave Jason a sharp look. “Jay, there are reporters around. Don’t let them hear you say that.”
“Don’t let them hear you say what?” Came the amused voice of Dick Grayson. They all turned to see their eldest brother approach, an easy smile on his face. His suit fit him like a glove and was embellished with subtle blue accents that brought out the color of his eyes.
Tim suddenly looked sheepish, “Oh, uh, nothing.”
“Tt. Todd is only speaking the truth, Drake.”
Dick’s brow furrowed as he looked between them. “Guys, what’s going on?”
Jason, ever direct as he was, nodded his head towards the dance floor. Dick’s eyes followed the movement, his gaze resting on Bruce as he whispered something into the woman’s ear which left her a blushing, giggling mess. Dick kept his expression calm, pleasant even. But the three boys knew their eldest brother’s nuances. They could see the way his jaw tightened or the bob of his Adam's apple as he swallowed down any unpleasant feelings that threatened to arise. Dick Grayson wore the mask of a performer, but his brother’s could see right through the cracks.
“Are you okay with that?” Jason’s blue-green eyes bore into Dick, watching his reaction with a steely gaze.
Dick kept his own eyes on Bruce–on the man who he called a partner both as a crime fighter and as a lover. “I have to be, Jay. What other choice do I have?”
Jason rolled his eyes. “Bullshit. There’s always a choice. You two just don’t want to make it.” He turned, heading towards the large open doors that lead outside to the veranda.
Tim let out a sigh. “I’ll go make sure he doesn’t start shooting at the shrubbery.” He turned to follow Jason, but he stopped, looking up at Dick. “But, in a way, he’s right, you know? It doesn’t have to be like this. And, honestly, it kind of sucks for us too. We have to pretend you’re just our brother when really you’re so much more than that, Dick. You’re like a second parent to us and I wish we could publicly acknowledge that.”
The words hit Dick harder than any punch that Blockbuster could ever give him as he watched Tim disappear outside. He knew that both Tim and Jason were right, but he truly didn’t know what to do to change the situation. It had been nearly a year since he and Bruce had started a romantic relationship together. It wasn’t easy. It was a constant battle of Bruce pushing away and Dick pulling him back in, but in the recent months they had reached a beautiful state of equilibrium. Was it still hard? Yes. Did Dick sometimes want to strangle Bruce? Absolutely. But it had been getting easier. And it was good. So very good. For as much as they pushed each other’s buttons, their qualities also complimented one another–yin and yang. But all of this was done behind the closed doors of the manor. As soon as they stepped outside into the daylight of the public eye, they were simply billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne and his grown-up ward. It had been a subject of heated arguments in the earliest parts of their relationship. Each argument had ended with the same results–Bruce needed his billionaire playboy persona to keep his identity as Batman a secret. Revealing his intimate relationship with Dick would shatter that carefully crafted mask. It was a risk Bruce wasn’t willing to take, and Dick couldn’t really blame him. When you spent your whole life hiding yourself behind a mask, it was terrifying to even consider removing it. Dick knew about hiding behind a mask, but he always let parts of himself shine through. Bruce had never allowed himself the opportunity. So Dick had agreed that outside the walls of the manor they would keep everything platonic. But as Dick watched Bruce step back from the woman to kiss her hand with a devilish grin, he realized that he didn’t know how much longer he could do this.
“As much as I despise what usually comes out of Drake’s mouth, I have to agree with him, Richard.” Damian spoke, green eyes looking up at the older man.
“Yeah.” And there it was, the slight break in Dick’s voice that only someone very close to him would recognize.
Damian recognized it instantly. “Come, Richard. There’s a small art gallery in the next room I want to view. You can escort me.” There was a brief moment where Damian looked a little awkward before he offered his arm to Dick. But the awkward expression faded when he was rewarded with a bonafide Grayson smile.
“That sounds like a great idea, Dami.” He took Damian’s arm, casting one last glance at Bruce–who was dancing with a completely different woman now–before looking down at Damian. “You’ll have to tell me all about the different paintings.”
Damian scoffed, “I suppose I can brief you on the history and artistic stylings of each painter. You will be a much more captive audience than Todd or Drake.” He was rewarded again when Dick laughed, blue eyes sparkling like stars in the Gotham skyline. Damian held Dick’s arm a little tighter. Father is an absolute fool.
—
Bruce made an escape out to the veranda, breathing a small sigh of relief to find it unoccupied. Madame Charlotte Von Gerritsen had been gracious enough to open up her lavish home to host the charity auction, but it also meant that Bruce had been forced to dance with all six of her ‘eligible’ grandaughters. He ran a hand over his tired face, mumbling to himself, “How can anyone deal with six grandaughters…”
“Kind of how they deal with a multitude of wayward orphans. You just deal OR you make one of them your lover and then take him to a charity ball where you ignore him the whole night while you dance and flirt with six women right in front of his face.” Jason said, venom dripping from his words as he and Tim approached Bruce from the garden.
Bruce did a visual sweep of the grounds. There was no one around. “Jason, right now isn’t the time.” He said with a warning in his voice.
“No? Because right now feels like the perfect time to me. You’re killing him. Do you realize that?”
Bruce’s eyes narrowed. “Dick of all people knows why it has to be this way. We’ve discussed it in length. He agreed to this.”
Jason let out a dry laugh tinged with disbelief. “Are you serious? The ‘World’s Greatest Detective’ can’t even read the man he’s known for seventeen years? Sure, Goldie agreed to it because that’s how he is. He shoves down any discomfort because he has a stupid martyr complex and would rather chew off his own arm if that meant it could keep you happy.”
“This doesn’t make me happy.” Bruce’s words were sharp, his voice lowering to a growl. “I don’t enjoy doing this.”
“Then why even do it?” It wasn’t really a question that Tim asked as he continued to speak. “Like, sure, I get that you keep up this playboy billionaire thing so that people don’t suspect… other things, but I don’t think it would be completely out of the ordinary that Bruce Wayne found someone to settle down with. I guess you’ve never publicly been with any men before and the press may have a field day that it’s Dick you’ve chosen to be with, but they’ve said worse things about you.” Tim shrugged.
Bruce sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He could feel a headache coming on. But was what Jason had said true? Was this really killing Dick? It had been such a long time ago since they had discussed things. If it was so upsetting, why hadn’t Dick said anything? But Jason’s words echoed in his head, “He shoves down any discomfort because he has a stupid martyr complex and would rather chew off his own arm if that meant it could keep you happy.” But Bruce wasn’t happy. He was miserable here. The entire night his eyes had wandered to Dick Grayson. Even as Bruce spun around attractive women in low cut gowns and shimmering sapphires, it was all he could do to not stare at the beautiful man who had been standing mere feet away.
“You’re going to lose him if you keep this bullshit up.” Jason said, interrupting Bruce’s thoughts. “And there’s a list a mile long of people who’d be eager to take him from you. People who’d be proud to show him off as a partner. He’d be gone in an instant.”
It was a threat that Bruce knew to be all too true. Dick was an effervescent flame and they were all moths drawn to him. He saw the way people, League members, and even some villains looked at Dick. They wouldn’t hide their love for him behind brick walls and closed doors. But if Bruce took off a part of this mask, if he revealed to the world that he loved Dick Grayson, then what? There was no contingency plan for this and that scared Bruce more than anything.
“We can’t lose him.” Tim said softly, tugging at a loose string on his suit jacket. “Dick… he’s the heart of this family. If he’s not here…”
“Oh, he’s going to be here if Bruce would just pull his fucking head out of his ass–!”
“Come on, guys, I’m away for two seconds and already there’s a family squabble? Don’t make me call Alfred.” Came Dick’s playful voice behind them. They all turned to see Dick approach with Damian at his side. “Now, who called the family meeting without me?”
Damian snorted as he looked at Jason. “It’s unsurprising that Todd’s lack of manners has caused a stir.”
Jason’s eyes narrowed, “Oh, I’ll show you a lack of manners, you little shi–!”
“Dick, I need to speak with you.” Bruce’s voice broke through the fighting and all four boys turned to look at him, but Dick’s face was the most surprised.
“Sure, B.” Dick agreed with a soft smile, but there was a subtle sadness hidden beneath his blue eyes. How had Bruce never noticed it before?
Jason grabbed Tim and Damian by the arms. “Okay, brats, let’s leave mom and dad alone.”
“Richard is not my–!” But Damian’s argumentative voice disappeared as Jason dragged Tim and Damian inside.
Bruce turned, walking out towards the garden. His posture suggested that he expected Dick to follow. Dick let out a soft sigh, following the man he had trailed behind ever since he was a little boy in pixie boots. They wandered through aisles of blooming rose bushes, turning past a flowing fountain that shimmered in the light of the first quarter moon.
“If I’d known we were going on a late night walk I would have worn better shoes.” Dick joked which only earned him a low grunt from Bruce. They finally stopped when they came to a stone bench that was surrounded by thick, well-tended bushes.
“Sit.” Bruce ordered as he faced Dick.
“I think I’ll stand, thank you. Now what is this all about?”
Bruce was standing as if he was ready for a battle, his feet firm on the ground but his body was rigid and ready. Whether it was for fight or flight, Dick wasn’t sure, but he kept his own posture straight, his blue eyes studying Bruce’s face.
“I’m not happy with things.”
Dick blinked. “Things? Going to have to be a little more specific there, B.”
Bruce’s posture tensed, keeping his eyes locked with Dick’s as he took a steady breath before saying “I’m not happy with how things are between us.”
“Oh.”
Bruce watched in quiet horror as Dick slowly deflated in front of him. Strong shoulders sagged, his crossed arms dropping to his sides. Even his steadfast gaze faltered, his eyes darting to the ground. It was then that Bruce realized just how horrible he was at communicating.
“Dick, wait. That’s not what I–! I didn’t mean–! It’s not you–!”
“It’s me?” Dick finished for him, looking up at Bruce with a hollow smile.
Bruce felt utterly helpless. Fighting all of the villains in Arkham was easier than trying to be vulnerable like this. But he wanted to do it for Dick. Even if he couldn’t take off all of the mask, he could at least take some of it off, piece by piece. He would do anything to keep Dick Grayson by his side.
“Can I start this conversation over?”
“I think that’d be best.” Dick said with a soft sigh as he sank down onto the stone bench. “But just a friendly piece of advice, choose what angle you want to approach the conversation with before you speak. That way I can know for sure if you’re breaking up with me or not.”
Bruce looked pained, “I don’t want this to end.”
“Neither do I.” Dick gestured his hands out. “It’s why I’m sitting out here on a cold bench in an uncomfortable tuxedo waiting to see if this is truly the end of things or if this is a grand marriage proposal of some kind where Superman will fly in with the ring, Alfred will jump out of the bushes and play the wedding march on a violin while the Green Lantern Corps. uses their rings to spell out ‘Dick Grayson, will you marry me?’ across the night sky.”
Bruce was nearly slack-jawed. “You would want to marry me?”
Dick suddenly burst into laughter. When he settled down, he rested his chin on his hands as he leaned forward. “Well, that depends on how the rest of this conversation goes.” There was a fond smile hidden behind his fingers as he waited for Bruce to speak. That smile was enough to make Bruce’s words form.
“Dick, you don’t deserve to be hidden. You deserve to be with someone who’s loyal to who you are as a person–a beautiful, radiant light. That light deserves to be seen and I want everyone to know that I have that light by my side, not just as a family member or a partner on the battlefield, but as a lover.” The words were spilling out of Bruce’s mouth faster than he could stop them. A piece of the mask was breaking, falling to the ground and shattering into a million little shards. It was painful and terrifying, but there was a freedom there that Bruce had never felt before, so he kept speaking. “I don’t want this to be a secret. I don’t want you to be a secret. It’s not fair to you, and… I can’t keep flirting with these women anymore, Dick. I don’t want to dance with a random face at a gala, I want to dance with you.” He dropped to his knees in front of Dick, strong hands taking Dick’s into his own. “This isn’t a proposal, but it’s a promise–a promise to be a better partner to you.” He pressed his lips to Dick’s palms in slow, worshipful kisses. “As terrifying as it is, I want all of those rich snobs and snooping reporters to know that Bruce Wayne is a committed man.” He looked up at Dick and he prayed that the younger man believed his words. “My loyalties lie with you, Dick, and I want everyone to see that.”
For once in his life, Dick didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t say anything. He pulled Bruce’s head to his chest, holding him in blissful silence as their breaths slowly matched together. He kissed the top of Bruce’s head. “Thank you for opening up to me. I know it wasn’t easy.” Dick said softly into Bruce’s hair. Bruce clutched onto him tightly. It hadn’t been easy, and just because one piece of the mask was down, didn’t mean that there weren’t more to fall. But he was willing to work on it if it meant he got to keep Dick Grayson by his side.
Hand in hand, they began to walk back towards the veranda. Dick was looking up at the moon.
“Kind of fitting that it’s the first quarter moon tonight–the sun and moon being side by side.” Dick said. “It’s a time to ‘make decisions and push forward through any obstacles.’ At least, that’s what Cosmo Girl said.” Dick added with a grin.
Bruce rolled his eyes. “I’ll never understand why you insist on reading that.”
“Hey, it’s full of pretty informative articles. How else am I going to know if I’m a ‘Coy Cutie’ or an ‘Over-the-Top Temptress’ in bed?”
Bruce suddenly stopped, pulling Dick flush against him. “I don’t think we need a magazine quiz to figure that one out…” Bruce’s breath ghosted over Dick’s lips, his words a low growl in his throat.
"We might not want to figure it out in front of 'the children.'" Dick teased, nodding his head towards the veranda where the heads of Jason, Tim, and Damian were peeking out from behind a column. They disappeared when Bruce looked over, making Dick chuckle.
"You've hardly laughed all night." Bruce said, his eyes looking back towards the ballroom floor where a mess of dark suits and taffeta dresses swirled together. "It's good to see you smile." He looked down at Dick and reached a hand to caress his cheek in the gentlest of touches which Dick hungrily leaned into. "Dance with me." Bruce said.
Dick looked up at him with a raised brow. "Right here?"
Bruce shook his head. "No. In there." He nodded towards the ballroom.
"Bruce, are you absolutely sure? Once we go out on that dance floor there's no going back, and I just want to make sure, well, that you're sure."
Bruce's jaw tensed. He could see the headlines in the morning and he knew the judgment that would come with it. But he had made a promise and he intended to keep it. He took Dick's hand in his own, feeling every callous on his fingertips from years of flipping across buildings and taking down criminals. He kissed the back of the warm hand, drawing every ounce of strength and courage from the man who he had pulled him out of the darkness and into the light. Bruce Wayne was the moon and Dick Grayson was the sun, and it was time for them to stand side by side. He pulled Dick into the fray, knowing that together they could face any obstacle that came their way.
The next morning, plastered across the Daily Gotham and the Gotham Globe were images of Bruce and Dick dancing close to one another, Dick's head resting in the crook of his neck. The headlines read: "Secret Affair Going on For Years? Is Billionaire Bruce Wayne Ready to Retire His Playboy Lifestyle?"
Dick had the article framed, and secretly Bruce kept a copy in his desk drawer. Damian insisted that a copy be displayed prominently on the refrigerator. They had never been happier.
—
I don't need anything fancy
I just need me and you slow dancing
Hell's bending, keeping me captive
Heaven's here, it's right where you're standing
Slow dancing
—