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It started off as a game, as all games go on Friday nights on Mount Justice.
Artemis was swaying her sixth glass of tequila. Kaldur was speaking half Atlantean to his pet fish Goldy. Red Tornado was back to tinkering with his life-sized sex doll. The only one with half a brain working was Wally, thanks to his super-speed metabolism.
When the bottle spun to Dick again, he attempted to whack Artemis with a breadstick. "Again? Can't you guys tell this thing is loaded?"
Artemis jabbed him in the ribs, "Don't be a sore loser, Rob."
Zatanna snickered. "You're so bad at this it's ridiculous. Just how many times have you lost?"
"Seven?" Kaldur nodded at his goldfish. "Yeah I remember seven. Pathetic, really."
Wally narrowed his eyes. "You're talking to fish, man. Who are you calling pathetic?"
"You, six. Not much better." Kaldur reminded him, pointing a swaying finger at his chin. Then his forehead met the tabletop.
"Atlanteans and liquor," Wally shook his head.
"Don't attempt to change the topic, ladies," Zatanna warned. "We're running out of dares. Someone needs to come up with a better form of punishment."
"Oh," Artemis sneered, and Dick swore he saw fire light up in her eyes. "I know just the thing."
"Remind me why this is a good idea." Dick caught Conner's hand as he almost lost his balance. His feet were already sore from walking around in four-inch high heels. That was just through the corridor from the changing room to the side entrance.
"Oh Dick, this is the worst idea," Artemis smirked. She stood on tiptoes to reapply his lipstick. "It's punishment, darling. Now don't bite your lips, or the color will come off again."
Dick glared daggers at the perfectly well dressed gentleman standing opposite him. "Why isn't Wally in a dress?"
"Because his Uncle Barry isn't invited to Gotham's Annual Masquerade Ball," Zatanna supplied cheerfully. She mustered another spell that tightened Dick's corset, earning her a muffled groan.
"Don't worry babe, you look gorgeous. I'd bang you any time." Wally was bent over, one hand clutching his abdomen, not even trying to hide the snicker in his voice. "Those fake eyelashes really work on you. I'd rank you between Babs and Cassie."
"And I'd rank you between Two-Face and Clayface." Dick rolled his eyes. He adjusted his mask one last time, careful with the elastic so it doesn't pull his wig off. "Can someone please end him already?"
Megan shrugged. She was the only one with half an apologetic spark in her eyes, Dick saw. "Wally did already do his part," she said.
"Yeah I wore that fluffy pink Hawaiian skirt and did the hula hoop at my uncle's office. Guess who was bent laughing his ass off last time." Wally said defensively. "How's that for fair?"
"You weren't trying to seduce the Batman." Dick retorted.
"Oh square up kiddo," Artemis pinched his ass and sent him stumbling out with a kick. "Ask him for a dance and worst case scenario, don't get killed!"
Artemis was right. This was the worst idea. He didn't think Wally had it half as bad seducing Barry in a frilly skirt. He knew they would laugh it off, maybe even take a few photographs, and it'd be something worth mentioning to other Leaguers on a Friday night get-together.
Something like, "One time my nephew put on a skirt and started dancing in the middle of my workplace. I think my boss was itching to give me a raise if it meant he'd see more of him."
Whereas Bruce's reaction was entirely unpredictable. Sure, Dick had had a few guesses of his own, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't biased. There was the reaction he'd hoped to get out of Bruce, and there was the one that he'd logically get out of Bruce, because public image and societal judgment and inherent stubbornness. Then there was the one he'd hoped not to get out of Bruce, because that would mean packing half his belongings and heading off to live with Clark in Metropolis, if the man would have him.
There was still, however small, a part of him that wanted to play. If anything, he'd just blame the attempt on the Titans. It was their idea, he just took best advantage of the opportunity.
"Shit. Excuse me." Dick gathered his gown and managed not to step on another man's tux.
On his comm, Zatanna was giggling and Wally was gasping for air, probably laughing enough to give himself a stomachache. Artemis was playing strategist. "-and your target is at your one o'clock. Keep your eyes on him, Rob, you can get there without tripping on your dress."
Dick pressed a button under his collar and growled, "I will murder you all a thousand times over."
"Argh," Artemis replied mockingly. "You heard. That was me, shivering in fear for my life."
"Aw beautiful, seeing this unfold is worth it," Wally sneered. He was always somewhere where Dick could see at the corner of his eyes. A blur bouncing up, crawling under tables, slipping through the crowd. The kid liked a front row seat.
Clumsily Dick managed to get past several busy waiters, two bitter heiresses, and a politician who had the guts to cop a feel from him. He'd ground his heel into the man's toes, and almost had to silence him so his screech wouldn't draw everyone's attention.
"Nice." Zatanna commented on his comm. "Well deserved."
Bruce, looking impeccable as always, was not far ahead. He was surrounded by a flock of plastic bimbos whose names Dick couldn't recall. He bet Bruce couldn't either, but the man had the good sense to abuse his facial recognition software.
He was still reciting his introduction when the music came to a stop. The couples around him scattered away. Wally had the decency to warn him, "Figured out your entrance speech? Because no one starts the night off with 'Sup, Bats. Cute mask.' Green Lantern excepted."
But Dick's mind wasn't running at its most efficient. It was just really odd standing there, dressed the way he was, with both hands clutching the slippery fabric of his dress. He was suddenly hyper-self-conscious that he was one of a few hundred people seeking Bruce Wayne's attention. The reality of what he was doing- the implications behind- suddenly weighed down on him. Sweat gathered at his palms, numbness travelled to his fingertips. For one second, he felt acutely his nerves nagging him from the very walls of his internal organs.
Bruce chose that very moment to turn, and Dick could see every fraction of his reaction blooming into vivid reality. The man had managed to display every symptom of disbelief in Batman's book of Psychology 101. Eyes wide, jaw hanging open, face frozen, dead in his tracks. The black domino mask he wore did nothing to hide his surprise. For one second, time seemed to have paused.
Of all things, the roar of laughter streaming from Dick's comm was mighty unhelpful.
Dick managed to plaster a tight smile as Bruce continued to stare. The only missing reaction was a heart attack. Dick even wondered if he became responsible for Bruce Wayne's sudden death tonight, just how much of his inheritance would be confiscated by the state.
They locked eyes. A flicker of emotion passed on Bruce's face, which Dick caught but failed to read. Then the moment passed, and the clock started ticking again.
When Dick's head was back in the game, Bruce was again his nonchalant self- all generous smiles and even more generous gropes. He'd slipped to Dick's side in a blink, curling his arm around his waist, his palm resting snugly on the small of his back.
"Hello there baby bird."
Behind them, the flock of supermodels and celebrities groaned their displeasure at their target's departure. Bruce's hand was already making its way down the low cut of his dress, and Dick had the decency to blush. He could feel Bruce's hand going way lower than what's appropriate- just not low enough to be criminal. His other hand was caressing Dick's face, his thumb rubbing over Dick's lower lip.
"You look a little lost. Who did you come with tonight?"
By the time Bruce finished his sentence, Dick's comm was exploding.
Artemis sounded hysterical. "This is the best," she was probably pounding her fist against a wall. "The best! The confusion on Rob's face, did you see that, priceless-"
"Smooth," Zatanna drawled. "Now all we have to do is to merge that voice with one of Batman's footages-"
Kaldur was mumbling, "Don't mention us, don't mention us-"
Only Wally had the common sense to point out, "Uncle Barry would never do that to me."
Back in the field, Dick swallowed hard. "No one," he lied. "I couldn't find a date."
"That can be easily fixed." The music started playing again, and Bruce took that chance to lead Dick onto the dance floor. As his initial shock wore off, the man seemed to be taking everything in stride. "What's your name, beautiful?"
Dick cringed at the burst of squeals from his earphone.
"Rachel? Richelle? Ruchina?" Zatanna suggested. "What's the female equivalent of Richard?"
"I like Rachel," Megan chimed in.
Artemis snorted. "What's wrong with Dick?"
Dick sighed. "Robin," he answered. He was trying not to lose his head while his body was buried in Bruce's solid warmth. It was one thing to imagine dancing with Bruce from when he was still applying makeup backstage. Like all his teenage fantasies, the scene existed in his mind and nowhere else. Now it was another thing entirely to be breathing in the man's cologne and natural scent, to be pressed against an expensive suit and rock hard abs.
Bruce hummed to that, sounding almost thoughtful. "That's a lovely name."
As the music played Dick managed to follow Bruce's lead without tripping, and on-and-off he responded to Bruce's play pretend. He was aware that Bruce was fencing off other interested men and threatening to chop some hands off. For a few twirls he'd seen Wally, poking his head out from the crowd, keen eyes following him around. Another easy spin, and Wally was gone. Bruce never stayed long enough in one spot for Dick to see who was beside them.
He didn't even notice that the other side of the comm had gone completely silent. He'd thought the team had reached some kind of awkward consensus- that this was a private moment not to be interrupted. That was until the dance was over, he looked down at his collar, and saw nothing but rumpled fabric.
"Looking for something?" Bruce's eyes were entirely too sharp- and so odd, paired with hare-brained Brucie's voice. He opened his palm to reveal the crushed remains of Dick's comm link.
"That was so not necessary," Dick hissed. He watched Bruce drop the metal parts into someone's drink.
Bruce raised an eyebrow. "Or do you like an audience?"
"For what?"
That was his last coherent response. The next second, Bruce had all but taken his right to breathe.
Warm lips pressed onto his own. It was softness that he couldn't have anticipated from plain observation, with a trace of wetness that was too captivating for his own good. Dick's eyes widened at the intrusion, but he'd only paused for half a second. He'd allowed himself that time to freak out, go frantic at the thought that any Titan- Wally, Conner, Artemis, hell, anyone in the room- could catch them. Whatever Bruce had in mind, they were definitely breaking some rules. Then that half a second was over, the damns he gave flew off to the Himalayas, and he was back to parting his lips in favor of Bruce's tongue.
He returned the kiss with enthusiasm, already savoring the sweetness of champagne that lingered on his taste buds. As it lengthened, Dick couldn't help the noise that escaped his throat. To his shame it sounded surprisingly like a moan, and he wondered if he sounded like the desperate women and men Bruce Wayne bedded for a well planned scandal. He didn't even know he was that wanton until he heard himself loud and clear.
Then his embarrassment was no longer, for when he opened his eyes all he could see was the darkening of Bruce's irises, laden with unmistakable lust.
His pulse quickened, his heartbeat racing, every thunk ridiculously loud to his own ears. In sync with that was the noticeable heave of Bruce's chest, and their heavy breaths as they shared the same pocket of air. Bruce's hand was still grabbing the fabric of his dress, finding its way through the slit to grope his thigh. He could feel his own temperature rising at the speed of a burning oven. Shock and anticipation warred in his head, overwhelming him and tearing his sanity apart.
Bruce took full advantage of his frame to press him into a wall- Dick didn't even know there was a wall behind them. Apparently there was, and their pose was no different from some of those porn covers he'd seen in Wally's collections. He didn't even need to reach out to feel just how hard Bruce was underneath the suit. He only knew to moan his want, desperate to show how eager he was to get out of this crowd. There must be privacy somewhere, a small haven where he could commit to whatever sin they were attempting.
Bruce's thoughts must have echoed his own, for the next minute he'd been pushed into a dark storeroom. Dick could only guess how Bruce had learned about this place. He presumed this was where the man had hidden every year, not even halfway through the event. He heard the lock click, then his back was crashed into a wall. The roughness only served to make him more bothered, more impatient. He yearned for it, threading his hands through Bruce's hair, gripping, pulling, begging. He was finding leverage as he sank deeper and deeper into his sinful desire. Bruce gripped his chin, rewarding him with more warm kisses. Dick was hopelessly drawn to him, his appreciation for Bruce's skill and experience obvious in the way he arched towards the older man's every movement.
When Bruce finally broke off their kiss, they were both panting, their hair a mess, their clothes drenched in sweat. Dick could feel the strap of his dress barely hanging off his shoulder. His bra was showing, and the pads Artemis had stuffed into them had already fallen out. His right leg was hanging out from the slit that rode up to his thigh. The disheveled state of his front was revealing too much of his chest to be called modest.
Bruce backed away half a step and looked at him- really looked at him, with an intensity that spoke of actual thought beyond primal desire. Any second now he was going to decide this far was too far, he'd bail, walk out of the room, and never ever again speak of this encounter.
Before Bruce could shatter his anticipation with his bat-teristic denial, Dick begged, "I know you think this is pure lust and a very big mistake but I honestly had a moment of clarity before approaching you. And I'm not so dim that I thought this scenario was entirely impossible." He swallowed slowly. "All of that translates to, I know what I'm getting into. Don't go."
They locked eyes, during that time he could see Bruce weighing his morals in his head. Dick shut his eyes, half expecting to open them to an empty room, half wishing that he'd feel Bruce's lips press against his own again.
Tentatively Bruce kissed him. In that moment, everything turned gentler, sweeter.
"You shouldn't be testing my resolve." Bruce murmured, pressing kisses onto Dick's skin, on his collarbone, his shoulders, his chest. His touches were fleeting. He was careful not to leave a mark. "What were you thinking?"
To that, Dick had half a mind to reply, "I wasn't." But that would definitely be a spell breaker, and he didn't want the night to end so quickly.
Bruce twirled his tongue around Dick's nipple, sucking, gently nibbling. Dick squirmed at the sensation, crossing his ankles, feeling his muscles grow tense. A sheen of sweat gathered on his skin. Bruce took his time tasting him, while his hand was rubbing small circles on the boy's back, as if to sooth the nervous clench of his muscles.
"I came here on a dare," Dick confessed quietly. "-to seduce you. Didn't think it wouldn't work."
Bruce pulled away and studied him hard. "A gross underestimation," he growled. Despite how unreadable he claimed to be, or indeed was, Dick instinctively knew what he was thinking when he looked into those deep blue eyes.
"When it did, if it did," he mumbled. "I don't want it to stop. I want you so much Bruce, I need you and I can't wait another second. I wish you'd just give it to me."
Bruce's hand slipped under his dress. "What do you want?"
"Anything you're willing to give, I'll take," Dick whispered. He swore he'd remember the hunger in Bruce's eyes when those hands roamed on his bare skin for the rest of his life.
"Yo," Wally waved. His teammate was performing another set of impressive stunts. He settled comfortably into the bench on the side. "It's time for a break."
Dick leaped off the pommel horse, landing a few feet before him. Wally handed him a Capri Sun.
"Really? I'd rather have water." Dick grimaced, but he sat down next to Wally anyway and started sipping on his drink. "I thought your Uncle Barry arranged a family dinner."
"Eh, well, so I heard." Wally scratched his head absentmindedly. "It's not time yet. I figured I'd come here and get my daily dose of the Flying Graysons."
"Huh." Dick elbowed him, snickering. "Getting too much of the Flash after that hula hoop session you had in his office?"
"Oh, we're bringing that up?" Wally leaned in with a smirk. "How did your night go with your Daddy, huh? Since you basically disappeared after dancing with him."
Dick shrugged. "It was good."
"Eh good," Wally made a so-so gesture, "Or like, orgasmic, mind-blowingly good?"
"It's not like you'd know what either feels like," Dick said dryly.
"Boo Rob, here I am, genuinely concerned for your well-being, and that's how you treat me." Wally pouted.
Dick eyed him once and tossed his emptied drink into the bin. He stood up. "Just so you know, nothing happened. B took it in stride, we laughed about it after, and I should be grateful to the Gods above that he hasn't chased me out of the mansion yet."
"That's it?" Wally spluttered. "After all that makeup we caked onto your face?"
"Sad, but life's not your eight o'clock rom-com. Now if you'll spare me, Alf's made some delicious lamb chops that I'd rather not miss out on."
Wally's eyes narrowed. He stood and stared, scrutinizing, until his eyes widened and his grin returned. "You're flustered," he said, glee in his voice. "Oh Rob."
"Am not."
"But you are," Wally snickered, imitating Dick's expression with a teary eyed pout. "So you actually do have a crush on Bats. Like, big, serious, I'd let you do unspeakable things to me in a wardrobe crush."
If Dick was shocked or surprised at how close Wally's presumption had hit home, he managed very well not to show it. "You let Batman hear that, and he'll destroy you. Crush you into scattered molecules."
Wally grinned. "You liar. Say it again, was he so-so, or was it toe-curlingly good? You can tell me, my lips seal real tight."
Dick licked his lips, looking contemplative.
"For the record, it was a locked storeroom," he said finally. Wally's jaw dropped. He grinned. "Also, it was heavenly. But you really can't expect anything less from Batman, can you?"
"No, of course not." Wally shook his head resolutely, he still looked stunned. "So did you really-"
"And, as you said, I need to get home to Daddy." Dick blew him a kiss, his eyes glinting mischievously. Then he waved. "Catch you later!"
