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Cody Hawkins was gay. Queerer than a nine-bob note, as his old man used to say. He’d known he liked boys since he was thirteen, and when he finally moved out to study Law at Gotham University, he decided he was gonna make that everyone else’s problem.
Turns out, for a city obsessed with its resident playboy billionaire bisexual, Gotham had a pretty lame queer scene. Like, a handful of shitty bars and an even shittier club. In a city the size of Metropolis. Apparently, the Joker had broken into one particular club so many times they kept gas masks on hand. Not exactly a good ambiance for picking up guys, so Cody steered clear.
Honestly, it was kind of disappointing.
Cody quickly found his place, though. A quaint little bar called the Flower Garden. It was a nice enough place; drinks were cheap and everyone was friendly.
Maybe a little bit too friendly, but he wasn’t at a gay bar to have the same four conversations over and over and not get up to anything fun.
Soon enough, though, Cody found out exactly why the bar was called the Flower Garden. It was built in a spot that had once contained a small community garden, which was abandoned, left to become overgrown and eventually demolished to be replaced by the bar.
Turns out, Poison Ivy would get just as angry about stuff like that as she did about oil barons and tech-bros causing massive damage to the environment. At least she had the conviction to stick to her morals. People probably liked that in a woman, if they liked women at all.
Poison Ivy had shattered the window and began picking her way through the bar, levitated slightly into the air by her vines as to prevent her from stepping on the shards of glass. Eventually, she made her way towards Cody, taking his face in her hands. “You’re a cute thing,” she purred. “You’ll do just fine...”
Before Cody could make any move to protest, there were lips on his and it was just like that time he tried kissing his best friend Maddie, and they both pulled out of the kiss making a face.
“Hmm…? You don’t seem to be affected,” Poison Ivy remarked, an eyebrow raised.
“Yeah? I don’t like girls. Why would I give a shit about you kissing me?” Cody grumbled. “Bleh, that lipstick you’re wearing tastes horrible!”
“Oh,” Poison Ivy scoffed. “You’re gay.”
“Way to go, you figured it out.” Cody was well aware he shouldn’t have been talking to Poison Ivy like that - the woman regularly snapped necks with her vines - but he was honestly too pissed off to care. “This is a gay bar, in case you haven’t clocked the rainbow flag on the wall.”
Poison Ivy glared at him.
Cody really should have shut up, but he always had to get the last word in. It was his worst trait. “Are you not into guys or something? Because you’re a really bad kisser.”
A vine whipped out and struck his glasses off his face, which was honestly lucky, considering who he was chatting shit to. A week later, he saw a redhead glaring at him from the other side of the Flower Garden and decided to mind his own business.
Probably for the first time in his life, but hey, there was a first time for everything.