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“No,” Batman bluntly stated. “I’m not answering that.”
The room burst with a thunder of protest, and it took Bruce all of his willpower not to just stand up and leave. At this point, he genuinely wondered why he even showed up to these kind of things.
They’d all gathered around to celebrate the League’s ten year anniversary, and Clark had stubbornly insisted that Bruce dropped by as well. At first, things appeared to be going surprisingly pleasant. Of course, the party wasn’t nearly as close to the parties Bruce attends on a weekly basis, but it was still somewhat enjoyable. Probably even more so than the swanky, extravagant celebrations Bruce spent an unfortunate amount of his childhood pretending to like.
But then a certain speedster just had to suggest a game of truth or dare, effectively ruining Batman’s mood. And then a certain Lantern just had to make it worse by asking him the most ridiculous questions when it was finally his long-dreaded turn.
First of all, he wasn’t even willing to participate in this game. He was forced by Clark’s annoying puppy eyes that threatened to fill with some sort of eternal sadness in case he refused to join. Second of all, everyone knew how irritable he could become whenever someone dared to ask him a personal question. And asking him to reveal his body count seemed like a personal question, if you ignore the fact that everybody in Gotham could take an educated guess when it came to the numbers of Brucie Wayne’s sex life, but never mind that.
Hal threw his hands up in dramatic exasperation. “Dude, that’s literally the whole point of the game. Why are you even here when you can’t even answer a question like a normal person? Don’t tell me you’re so paranoid that you’re afraid someone’s going to use this information against you someday, Spooky.” He raised a brow. “Or are you maybe just too ashamed to share?”
“Believe it or not, Jordan, I’m actually doing you a favor. I’m afraid that the truth would be too much for you for you to handle.” Batman bit out.
The comment was enough to provoke the Lantern, and Bruce prided himself for successfully pissing him off for the third time this evening. His victories were mostly due to the fact that Hal had already consumed more alcohol than he should have, but that was out of the picture. The man rose to his feet, ready to brawl, but unfortunately Clark stopped him just in time.
A shame. Bruce was itching to throw a punch, and since he was vexingly prevented from doing so on his usual patrols in favor of showing up this celebration, punching the Lantern square in the face seemed like a relieving compensation.
“Hal,” Clark spoke up, warningly, like a teacher scolding a third-grader. “Remember, this is supposed to be a fun, stress-free night. Let’s just keep it down for now, okay?’’
“Alright, alright. But then you’ll have to do a dare instead, or else I’m seriously going to catapult you into the sun.”
“Fine.”
He sat back down and squeezed his eyes shut, pretending to think. Then, his face twisted into a cheeky grin. “You have to kiss the person nearest to you.”
The chattering died down as soon as Hal finished his sentence, and now all eyes were cautiously set on Batman, who in return only raised a brow, though the action went unnoticed because of the cowl. Bruce’s gaze briefly swept the room, just like it had a million times before throughout the evening, and his eyes paused on Green Arrow for a split second. The archer was obviously closest to him, standing only a few feet away. Oliver eyed him in return and shrugged.
He wasn’t protesting. Probably because he wasn’t expecting Batman to go through with the act, but still.
Batman then abruptly stood up from his seat, his cape flaring dramatically behind him. He turned to Oliver, causing multiple eyebrows to raise in anticipation, including those of the man in question. Bruce internally smirked to himself as everyone was caught off guard when he took a step in his direction instead of making a beeline for the exit.
In one smooth, practised motion, he tipped Oliver’s chin to face him and then swiftly closed the distance between the two of them, leaving no room for the other to even do as much as sputter.
Somewhere in the background, Bruce was faintly aware of the collective gasp that broke through the stunned silence, but that quickly faded away when Ollie unfroze, quickly responding by kissing him back with his hands wrapping around his middle. Bruce allowed himself to enjoy the moment as they came rushing back, and let muscle memory take over. He deepened the kiss in return, his tongue pushing past the other’s lips as his han brushed Ollie’s jaw in a certain manner.
A manner that was suspiciously familiar.
With a sharp gasp, Oliver broke the kiss and backed away from Bruce, as if the man himself was suddenly set on fire. Bruce couldn’t help the smug expression from taking over his face as Ollie’s jaw comically dropped.
“No way,” He exclaimed in disbelief, his eyes blown wide from shock. Both men pointedly ignored the clueless eyes watching them, flickering between the two like a tennis match. “You deceptive son of a bitch.”
“Yes darling?” Batman practically purred as he tilted his head, the corners of his lips twitching upwards to form a smirk. He couldn’t help the memories of him and Ollie from all those years ago from flooding his brain, from the secret hand holding under the dinner table to the full on make out sessions in the locker room of their boarding-school. He knew without a doubt that Ollie was going through the same thing, hence the dumbstruck expression.
The room fell silent once again, and within the silence Bruce could practically hear the gears in Ollie’s brain turn at a rapid speed as he was still in the middle of processing the situation. Then, the blond burst into a sudden fit of laughter.
“Of course it’s you,” He said, chuckling. “Jesus Christ. How could I have been so blind? It’s so obvious it hurts.”
“Don’t beat yourself up about it. You’re the first one to figure it out by yourself.” He paused, letting out a small, genuine smile. That action alone held more emotion than anything he ever dared to display in front of the League during the past decade. “Mostly. I figured I’d give you a helping hand.”
“Only you would reveal your identity this way, you dramatic idiot.” Ollie teased. “No wonder you didn’t want to reveal you body count. You probably lost count after, what, that one time in Cuba?”
“You know that was for a bet.” He leaned closer, whispering playfully, “Which I won, Ollie.”
“Sure, B. You really proved yourself worthy of your title that day. Why didn’t I think of that? Establishing your reputation by manwhoring your way—“ Ollie laughed, the sound muffled when Bruce slapped a hand over his mouth to prevent him from saying anything else, all while ignoring Hal’s whispered ‘What the fuck.’
As Ollie’s hand’s clawed at Bruce’s arm for release, which the Gothamite mercilessly denied, Bruce then felt a narrowing gaze staring at him from the side, and he turned his head ever so slightly to meet Dinah’s assessing eyes, staring at him, forehead creasing. They shared a glance, and after only a few seconds, she seemed to piece everything together without him even having to say anything. She smiled knowingly, and Bruce nodded in gratitude when she made a motion of zipping her lips.
He shifted his attention back to the man in front of him and tilted his head playfully. “You know, my eldest actually bet a fortune that you would be the first to figure it out. It only took you a decade.”
Ollie seemed to still for a moment. “Your eldest? Wait, so Di– I mean, he knows my identity as well? What about the rest? Did you tell them or…”
Bruce shot him a pointed look.
“Oh my God, everything makes sense now,” He muttered, eyes drawn together as realization struck him like an arrow. The Robins, Agent A, everything. He’d always known that there was something up with Bruce’s children, so being provided with a somewhat reasonable explanation for the army of vigilantes that prowled around the darkest shadows of Gotham was a revelation he hadn’t expected to stumble across today.
Just as Oliver was to succumb to a havoc-driven headache, their audience of usually composed heroes finally seemed to stop their dumbfounded gawking in exchange for an ear-deafening cacophony of bewildered demands for answers. Fantastic.
“What in the absolute fuck is going on–”
“So apparently, Green Arrow knows secret identity? And he realized by kissing him? Kissing Batman? I didn’t even know he was capable of kissing.” Victor drawled, brow furrowing.
“–I wish I was kissed by Batman–”
Clark crossed his arms, tilting his head, looking like he was eager for an explanation. It made sense; he’d been trying to coax Batman out of his shell for years now. “You know B behind the mask?”
Bruce mentally pinched the bridge of his nose. Maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea to do this while half of the League wasn’t even sober enough to form a single rational thought.
“Batman has kids?!” Hal all but screeched, louder than any of the other overlapping voices, and Bruce rolled his eyes at him. Not that he could see, but Bruce was hoping that the Lantern could at least feel his mild irritation at his senseless questioning. Hadn’t it been clear that all the Robins were his? Even Ollie had that one figured out before this day even occurred.
“I assume that you two have known each other long before the League was founded?” J’onn calmly questioned, never even dropping his cool composure. Bruce mentally noted to thank him for being the only one to offer the slightest semblance of professionalism.
“So it appears,” Diana added, looking way too amused. She lifted a single brow and leaned back into her chair. “Intimately, even so.” Bruce merely hummed, keeping a watchful eye on Barry, who looked like he was about to phase right through the floor with how fast he was vibrating.
“I used to pull his scrawny ass out of trouble all the time,” Ollie huffed, shaking his head in all fondness at the memories, spiking everyone’s interest and making them lean closer as if he was telling an exciting story by a campfire. “No wonder Agent A’s hair turned significantly grayer with each and every time we met. You never outgrew your emo phase, did you?”
Batman’s mouth formed an actual pout, only fueling his teammates’ surprise. “You too? You know my kids have been endlessly pestering me about it.”
“Well, you deserve to be bullied for it, asshole. I didn’t force your insomniac ass to sleep nearly every night only for you to maintain that nocturnal lifestyle like chronic diseases aren’t a thing. In your grown-up, supposedly sagacious age as well, mind you. No wonder why you’re always so moody.”
Bruce attempted to glare at him, but Ollie simply waved him off. The glare had lost its intimidating effect very soon after they’d first met, which was decades ago.
“Wait, Batman had an emo phase?” Barry cut in. “Really? I need to see that. My God, just imagine a little, emo Batbaby. Did you have that whole bat-vampire thingy going on back then? What was your favorite band? My Chemical Romance? Pierce The Veil? No, hold on, you actually really seem like the an Evanescence kind of person–”
Fortunately, Bruce’s glare was enough to stop Barry in his rambling. “You know what, nevermind. I was just kidding. It’s kind of weird, anyway, imagining you as a baby.” He chuckled nervously, shrinking in on himself under the Bat’s impassive gaze.
Ollie grinned. “Don’t worry, Bar. No matter how much he tries to deny it, I have a whole box full of pictures to prove him otherwise. One day, I’ll show you them, I swear on my life. And by the way, B loves you too much to actually be upset with you. I think you might actually be his favorite out of all of us.”
“Wait, really?”
Ollie opened his mouth to speak, but Bruce beat him to it. “You know, you bringing up Cuba earlier reminded me of some interesting photos I still have lying around somewhere. If you’re not careful choosing your next words, I might just decorate the entire Watchtower with them.”
At that, Ollie’s mouth instantly snapped shut as he visibly paled, all while Dinah promptly burst out laughing. There was a story out there of Oliver somehow drunkenly ending up participating in a drag race, and while Ollie did try to get rid of all the evidence, he never managed to get to the pictures that Bruce had taken.
And never did Bruce feel bad when randomly leaving one of those pictures behind for Ollie to find. It was his most valuable and effective piece of blackmail, after all.
“You wouldn’t,” Oliver spoke warily as all eyes were set on him, staring quizzically. “You’d expose your own identity too, you moron.”
“It’d be worth your embarrassment,” Bruce teased with an undeniable smugness to his tone, and for a second it looked like his friend was going to tackle him to the ground. The thing was, Ollie hadn’t even looked all that awful in drag, if Bruce was being honest. It was just that he took pleasure in seeing his friend humiliated in the way he deserved to be every now and then.
“...fine.” Ollie yielded after a couple of moments of silence. “You’re such a brat, you know that, right?”
“Maybe, but I think that you’re dragging it. You’ve always been more of a drama queen than I have.”
This time, Ollie didn’t restrain himself and threw a half-hearted punch at Bruce, which he easily caught. Dinah’s eyes set on him again, sparkling with mischief, and Bruce winked at her.
“Okay, I feel incredibly left out,” Hal blurted, rubbing a hand over his flustered face. “It feels like someone just took my brain and replaced it with a shit ton of cement.”
“Assuming you had a brain to begin with,” Batman murmured under his breath. Ollie elbowed him in the side in response, rolling his eyes fondly when Bruce had the audacity to mouth ‘what?’
“Asshole.” Ollie placed a warm hand on his shoulder. “I really hate you sometimes. Would you believe me when I tell you I actually missed you?”
The words were genuine, and Batman’s playful demeanor shifted to something entirely different, something that was unfamiliar to the League. The softness Batman carried for an old friend, once lover, was clear to see for all. Seeing him this comfortable, this human, around someone was a rare sight. It was as clear as daylight that the past they shared didn't just consist of a buried friendship, nor plain lust, but something much deeper than that. Something that couldn’t even be labeled.
“Then how about we continue this in a more private environment?” Bruce gently offered, no teasing this time, brushing their shoulders together in a way they hadn’t done in a long time. “You and Dinah could stay for dinner if you want to. Agent A would be pleased to see you again, and so would the kids. I believe even Jaybird will be there.” Even with the cowl covering most of his face, literally anyone could tell that his usually hard gaze held nothing but warmth as he spoke.
Ollie glanced at Dinah, who nodded, and shifted his gaze back on his friend. He smiled. “You know I wouldn’t want to miss that for anything, B.”