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Bruce Wayne wasn't known for his presence on social media. Which was surprising.
Everyone assumed the flamboyant man would be all over the internet, posting photos of expensive meals, his workout routine or from vacation on some luxurious yacht.
He didn't.
And when something did appear on his Instagram or Twitter, it was clearly made by his PR team that tried too hard to make it sound like it's actually him.
So, no one followed Wayne much on social media, not even his biggest fans. There was just no point when things posted on them were photos from official events or some soulless, corporative statements.
Boring.
Imagine everyone's surprise when that changed one evening, out of nowhere.
No one noticed it at first. Everyone in Gotham was too focused on the big gala that was about to start in an hour, and anyone else interested in Bruce Wayne was used to not seeing anything interesting on his profiles. They were waiting for official shots from the gala later.
The photo Bruce posted was noticed after twenty minutes.
And what a photo it was!
He stood with a phone in front of a full body mirror, dressed in an impeccable, three-piece suit - not a single hair out of place, make up carefully applied.
He looked gorgeous and perfect as always.
Only he wasn't the star of the photo. Or the only star rather.
Because there was another man with him.
Standing a little to the right and behind, he had his arms wrapped around Bruce, huge hands splayed on his stomach, covering it almost entirely and holding Bruce possessively.
He was dressed vastly differently. Instead of another, gorgeous suit, he wore a simple, white tank top that exposed his enormous biceps, and a pair of dark sweats.
It was impossible to see his face because he had it hidden in the curve of Bruce's neck, looking like he was kissing it.
And Bruce was encouraging him, his free hand tangled in the messy, dark hair - petting or pulling the man closer.
They looked close. Not just close intimately.
Boyfriend level close.
And the words under the photo only confirmed it.
“Getting ready for the gala. He can't come but he makes sure everyone knows I'm taken."
The internet went wild.
"WHO IS THIS GUY?”
"HOT”
"LOOK AT THAT ARM
I WANNA CHEW ON IT!”"BRUCIE YOU LUCKY BASTARD”
"SMASH”
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE'S NOT COMING?”
"HE'S NOT COMING BECAUSE THOSE BABIES WOULD RIP ANY SUIT HE PUT ON”
"THAT'S FINE HE CAN COME NAKED!”
The photo quickly got the attention of the press covering or attending the gala. Before Bruce arrived at the party, two hosts in the studio were speculating who the hunk in his photo was, first articles had already got written, and the paparazzi outside the hotel that hosted the gala were practically disinterested in other guests.
They took pictures, but they didn't even try to pretend they weren't waiting for the arrival of one guest in particular.
The other guests weren't even offended by the lack of attention. Most of them knew Bruce Wayne all their life and were just as interested in the new person in his life.
If the man even was a new person in his life, and not just another stunt to gain publicity.
Gotham's society hasn't experienced such juicy news in a long time.
At last, almost an hour after the party started, a sleek, black Rolls-Royce with personalized plates arrived at the front of the hotel, and Wayne's personal butler left the car.
He didn't even blink because of the bright flashes surrounding him, he simply walked to the passenger door and opened it wide.
The flashes became more intense when Bruce Wayne finally stepped out of the car and onto the red carpet, greeting the cameras and the gathered crowd with his signature, charming smile.
Shouts calling out for his attention were almost deafening but didn't seem to affect Brucie in the slightest. He just stood there for a moment, posing effortlessly and letting paparazzi take their pictures.
When he finally moved, it was to present his other profile, and there - peeking from under the collar of his shirt - was what everyone was hoping to see.
Hickey.
A bright, red spot on the right side of his neck - still fresh and marking his skin like it came from a branding iron.
“Sorry I'm late, everyone," he said to the microphones that reporters tried to shove in his face from behind the security barriers. "I got a little ah… occupied on my way out,” he giggled with a tongue in his cheek.
Bruce walked towards the main door, accompanied by questions and demands of attention.
He ignored them all until he stopped in front of the entrance. Then, he turned briefly, blew everyone a kiss and disappeared inside.
It was far from calm there.
Jumped at by every one of his friends that were already at the party, Bruce was surrounded immediately.
Reporters present at the event scooted closer with their recorders, not wanting to miss a vital bit of information.
“Brucie, you dog!" one of Bruce's friends laughed, bumping into his hip with hers and putting a flute of champagne into his hand. “Why didn't you tell me you were seeing someone!"
She pouted at him, and he only laughed.
“Can you blame me for wanting to keep that cookie all to myself?" he asked cheekily in return and took a sip of his drink.
She and everyone gathered around them laughed. “Not at all, not at all!"
“So, who is? Anyone we know?" a man asked, draping his arm around Bruce and pressing their sides together.
"All in due time,” Bruce told mysteriously. “And if you don't want to meet his fist personally first, I suggest you take your arm from around me, thank you!"
Bruce chuckled when his friend paled, quickly taking his arm and stepping away.
“That possessive, huh?" the man pointed out nervously.
“Oh yeah," Bruce confirmed, and reached for his neck, stroking the visible bit of the hickey.
For the rest of the night, Bruce Wayne didn't mention the mysterious man even once and refused to answer any question about him.
A couple of times, he was caught staring down at his phone and smiling, but he didn't comment on that either.
No one had any idea what to expect of Brucie next. He was always a bit of a wild card, surprising people when they least expected it.
His silence about the subject didn't help either.
Was the photo just a one-time thing? A stunt? Or would there be next? And if so - when?
Bruce's social media were heavily monitored by everyone interested in his person. There would be no surprise next time he posted a photo.
Additionally, paparazzi hung around places where they could meet Wayne, hoping to catch the glimpse of the mysterious man.
With no luck.
For five days since the Photo Incident, as the media called it, the press saw plenty of Brucie - going to work and home, eating dinner with other businessmen, dropping his kid at school.
But no Sexy Hunk, as they dubbed the man from the photo.
Two paparazzi tried to get onto the grounds of Wayne Manor and get a better chance at unraveling the mystery. But all they achieved was being chased up a tree by a German Shepherd, and then having police called on them while an angry butler guarded them with a nasty looking double barrel.
Finally, just half past six on Wednesday afternoon, Brucie had mercy on everyone. If the next photo he posted could be considered merciful because of what it depicted.
“Helping my baby stay in shape 😘😍🤭” , was the caption.
“Oh my god," Gwen sighed dreamily, looking at the picture on her phone.
Brucie’s steel blue, sensual gaze looked at her from the photo, peeking from over the muscular shoulder - taut mid pull-up performed by the mysterious boyfriend.
He wasn't just pulling up himself, with Brucie simply standing in front of him.
No.
Because Brucie was clinging to him, legs wrapped around the slim hips, hands with blood red nails splayed possessively on the broad and naked back.
Oh god, that back. Those shoulders!
If this wasn't photoshop or ai…
"Oh my god,” Gwen sighed again and looked up from the phone and towards the other room. "Jennifer!”
"What?!” her roommate shouted back.
“Bruce Wayne posted another photo!" she answered, and it took only a second to hear rushed footsteps getting closer.
“Lemme see!" Jennifer squealed from the doorway and threw herself onto the bed next to Gwen.
She scooted as close as physically possible, and Gwen showed her the photo.
"Oh my god!” Jennifer squealed again.
"That's what I said!” Gwen pointed out. "Twice!”
"For years there was nothing, and now he's dropping two bombs in a spawn of one week!” Jennifer exclaimed, grabbing Gwen's wrist to pull the phone closer to her face. “Is this real?”
"It looks real."
They both took a closer look at the photo, trying to spot a sign of deception. They found nothing except the beautiful canvas of abs Gwen would love to do nothing more but to paint on with her tongue.
“It can't be real, right?" Jennifer asked, pulling out her own phone and typing quickly.
“What are you doing?" Gwen asked, not wanting to look away from the photo to check.
Those back muscles, hot damn.
And she thought those arms were nice.
“Googling how much Bruce Wayne weighs," her roommate replied.
Gwen rolled her eyes. “And? How much?"
“Google doesn't know," Jennifer said, tossing her phone to the side. “But he can't be one fifty, right? He must be at least two hundred."
“Right," Gwen agreed, going through the hundreds of thirsty comments. “I don't know if he’s bragging that his boyfriend can do pull-ups with him clinging like a baby koala or is this a clue.”
"Both,” Jennifer said without hesitation. "He's probably a bodybuilder. Or maybe some stunt double? They're often fit."
“Or he really likes gym," Gwen added.
"Whoever it is, I'm only certain of two things," Jennifer said confidently. “He's hot as fuck, and he's a lucky bastard.”
"Him?!” Gwen questioned.
“Look at those eyes!" Jennifer pointed at the pale blue stare. “If Brucie looked at me like that, I would do anything he asked for.”
Gwen nodded in agreement. “Same."
She got so caught up in the Sexy Hunk’s hotness she forgot for a moment what a gorgeous diva Brucie Wayne was.
And a tease, because he went completely radio silent for a few days again, leaving everyone interested in his love life, waiting for new crumbs.
Brucie was a star in Gotham. Their beloved Prince. A childish man that never treated anything seriously except when it was to use his fortune to help make the city better.
Outside of it, he was still well known - mostly for his scandals, frivolous lifestyle and being a bit of an airhead.
Out of all the millionaires and billionaires, he was one of the very few that was adored. So, it was no wonder that his newest and supposedly meaningful relationship interested more than just local newspapers and news stations.
Daily Planet wasn't known for its gossip column.
Sure, it had one, and it had its fans, but people were buying the newspaper for other types of articles. Ones that exposed the rich and their dirty secrets, not yapped about their romantic relationships.
Still, news about the life of celebrities sells.
Especially when readers are demanding it. The number of requests to cover the subject of Wayne's newest boy toy easily topped the usual requests, Metropolis’ very own mascot - Superman.
With demands this high, Daily Planet had no other choice but to deliver. Despite the rivalry between the two cities, the Metropolitans were eating this whole thing up. So was the rest of the country.
Only a fool wouldn't take advantage of one of the celebrities letting people into his private life.
And with the team of the best investigative journalists in the country, Daily Planet was bound to be the first ones to uncover the mystery.
It was only a matter of time.
“Emergency meeting, conference room, now," Perry ordered, already on his way there.
Frederick and the rest of the people present in the newsroom stood up immediately.
Except Lois Lane, who sighed as she got up from behind her desk and followed the others.
The blinds were down, making the room completely dark except for the glow of Perry's laptop he sat in front, waiting for everyone to take a seat.
Frederick settled on the chair at the far end of the table, right on Lois' right side.
"What's the emergency, boss?” Jimmy Olsen asked from her left.
"Wayne posted another photo,” Perry announced grimly and pressed a key on his laptop.
The photo appeared on the wall, but everyone in the room reached for their phones to get a closer look.
It showed Brucie sitting somewhere - most likely in his office - shoes off, Sexy Hunk kneeling in front of him with a bottle of lotion on the floor next to him. His huge hands were holding Brucie's foot, massaging it.
There was no way to see his face because he kept his head down, focused on the job.
As always, there was a caption.
“I've been stuck in a meeting for 5 hours, my feet are killing me! 😩 Luckily, boyfriend came with lunch and offered help ☺️ Ladies, don't settle for anything less. If he isn't treating you like a queen, what's the point? 💅👑"
"That's so unfair,” Cat Grant sighed to the photo on her phone. "He's jacked, he's hot AND he gives foot massages? My exes wouldn't even make me a sandwich,” she grumbled.
"I still think it's a wrestler,” Ben next to her said.
"We already checked wrestlers," she reminded him.
And boxers, bodybuilders and athletes. None fit the description, and if they did, they were never seen around Wayne in the past.
That didn't necessarily rule them out, Brucie was quite the elusive creature when he wanted to be, they could've met somewhere without cameras. But without solid proof, they were not taken into consideration.
Same as many other people.
Cat spent two nights in a row analyzing thousands of photos where Wayne appeared - during galas, after he was kidnapped(three times), when he was arrested for punching a paparazzi, in a court room, and from his childhood. Even before his parents were murdered, because there was a small chance the mysterious boyfriend was a childhood friend.
Nothing.
Cat had more than a few candidates to be the Sexy Hunk, but she ruled them all out eventually and came back empty handed.
So did the amateur online detectives involved in the whole thing, and there were a lot of them among Brucie's fans.
No one could figure out who this guy was! And it was both exciting and frustrating.
Frederick leaned more towards excitement. It was fun! He liked a good mystery! That's why he became an investigative journalist.
“Focus,” Perry told them. "Is there anything in that photo bringing us closer to the answer?"
Everyone stared at the photo, looking for the smallest detail.
“They must be in the office of Wayne Tower," Tara pointed out. "Where else? It's Wayne's working hours.”
"He's a CEO, he can leave whenever he wants,” Frederick reminded her. "Wouldn't be the first time.”
"Yeah, but Lee didn't see him leaving,” she responded. "And he's been camping in front of the building since yesterday.”
"If the photo is from Wayne Tower, then someone must've seen the Sexy Hunk coming in,” Ben pointed out. "Including Lee.”
"He could've come in through the underground garage,” Cat noticed. "Hell, a chopper even."
“There was a chopper seen landing on top of the Wayne Tower half an hour before the photo was posted,” Perry informed them.
Cat smiled with satisfaction.
"So, it must've taken Wayne to his Manor,” Tara suggested. "Because there's no way no one in the building wouldn't notice a guy their boss is seeing and which everyone is dying to know the identity of."
“And who is the size of a fridge," Ben added. "That's why I think he's a security guard. It would explain his size, how they met and how he's able to move around Wayne Tower freely.”
"Someone would've recognized him by now,” Tara pointed out, leaning back in her chair. “I would if it was my colleague.”
“Employees of Wayne are very loyal to him,” Cat argued. “It's impossible to interview them about him."
“No amount of loyalty would stop me from yapping about a guy like that!" Tara argued, pointing at the Sexy Hunk.
"NDA would,” Frederick told her. “Good luck winning with Wayne in court.”
The lawsuit would be so huge even Frederick’s great-grandchildren wouldn't be able to pay it off.
"Would've been worth it,” Tara muttered.
"What if it's Superman?” Frederick suggested, and everyone immediately looked at him. “They first met when Wayne attended the opening of the rebuilt bridge he helped fund all those years ago. He even gave Supes a kiss on the cheek then."
“That was cute," Ben chuckled. “Never seen Superman so red."
"And Superman saved him a couple of times since then," Frederick continued. “Plenty of opportunities for sparks to fly.”
Cat snorted. "Please, that's impossible,” she told them both. “Everyone knows Superman is secretly fucking Batman. Get your facts right, Freddy."
“Excuse me for not being as informed in Superhero life as you are," Frederick sneered back.
“I'm not, I just have eyes," Cat answered and moved those eyes to look at Lois and Jimmy. “You two have been awfully quiet this entire time," she noticed, one eyebrow raised in question. “Nothing to share with the class?”
Lois smiled at her. "I guess I'm just not that interested in rich people's love life," she answered.
“Focus," Perry reminded them again. “Any other ideas who this guy could be? Lane? Olsen?"
Before any of them could answer, the door to the conference room opened, letting in a bright light that blinded everyone temporarily and forced them to squeeze their eyes shut.
"Hey guys, got everyone's order!” Clark's cheery voice announced from the doorway.
Frederick blinked his eyes open and saw him standing with a bunch of cup holders, desperately trying not to drop any.
Especially the one wedged in the bend of his elbow.
Clark smiled at them. “What did I miss?"
Not everyone could become an intern in LexCorp, but those incredibly lucky few Lex liked to welcome personally.
Not because he cared, but because he wanted them to know just how fortunate they were, and how important this internship could be for their career.
Lex could literally shape their future, or completely ruin it, and when interns knew that they tended to work harder and more efficiently.
This year, they only got ten interns, carefully selected among American students, to ensure they were the best of the best. Someone worth investing time and money in.
Lex already had the whole speech prepared. About how important and prestigious this internship was, how if they become even better, they could one day be a proper part of LexCorp.
He entered the small conference room expecting a group of disciplined, ambitious young adults, seated around the long table and awaiting him.
Instead, upon walking through the door, Lex was met with a picture straight out of middle school cafeteria.
All ten interns were crowded at the head of the table, looking at something on their phones - whispering and giggling among themselves, having a good time.
No dread, no sense of importance, and certainly no respect. They didn't even notice they weren't alone anymore.
Lex couldn't believe his eyes and briefly wondered if he somehow ended up back in public school his father forced him to attend for one year.
Because this looked like some teenage gossip circle you could see in the school cafeteria every day, not the students of ivy league universities.
Lex closed the door and cleared his throat.
“Hope I'm not interrupting," he said with a raised brow.
He expected them to scatter and return to their seats after realizing how childish they were behaving.
They didn't.
The young girl whose phone was the center of their attention looked up with the rest of the group and giggled.
"Oh! Hi, Mr. Luthor!” she greeted him. “We were just passing some time until your arrival.”
Yet they didn't stop engaging in whatever childish game they were playing when he showed up. Didn't feel any shame for being caught either, they just giggled some more.
“Brucie posted a new pic," one of them elaborated without being prompted.
Ah, of course. Wayne's newest stunt.
Whenever this spoiled brat felt there weren't enough articles being written about him, he was quick to fix that by any means necessary.
Even if it meant acting stupid or lewd.
If it wasn't for Lucius Fox, Lex would've taken over Wayne Enterprises a long time ago.
"He's so dreamy,” one of the boys sighed.
"We're wondering who the Sexy Hunk is!” another intern supplied, including Lex in their childish conversation as if he was interested in whoever Wayne was screwing this time.
He wasn't, and any time he caught sight of one of the photos posted by Wayne, it was entirely involuntary.
They were everywhere. Like a virus. The whole nation went crazy, going even as far as making official betting polls on who is the boyfriend and when the next photo would be posted.
Apparently, it was now.
“I wonder when the face reveal will happen," one of the interns said.
“Would be funny if Brucie never told us,” another suggested with a chuckle. "Just stopped posting one day.”
“Oh god, please no!” another protested. "I need him to keep posting those forever! And I need to know who that guy is, or I will cry!”
"Same!” agreed the other. "I need to see that man's face before I die.”
"I bet it's pretty.”
Lex could feel the beginning of a migraine.
All this lamenting because of some dumb pile of muscles that Wayne photographed like some pet.
And from who?
If those were the most promising students in the USA, then Lex feared for the future of the country.
"Do you know who it is, Mr. Luthor?” one of the boys asked. "Since you're Brucie's friend and all."
Lex clenched his jaw.
“First of all, we aren't friends,” he responded in irritation. The smiles and excitement on the students’ faces vanished in an instant. “Second, I have no slightest interest in who Wayne's newest boy toy is. And third, all of you must've missed your calling, because with your interest in gossip you should be writing for a tabloid, not applying for scientific and engineering internship. Luckily for you, you can still fix that."
The students gaped at him in shock.
“Are you firing us?!” one of the girls squawked.
"No,” Lex replied calmly. “Because I never hired you. And I have no interest to after what I just witnessed.”
He opened the door and stepped to the side, sending a clear message to the students.
They stayed in place for a moment longer, surprised by his words, before those finally clicked in their brains and they began to gather their things and leave.
“Whatever, I had an offer from Wayne Enterprises too," Lex heard one girl say. “I just picked this because it's closer to my hometown."
There was throbbing just between Lex's eyes that he refused to soothe until the last would-be interns left the office.
With a frustrated sigh, Lex sat at the table and opened his laptop. It seemed this year they would be without interns. But if the best candidates presented such a level as these ones, Wayne could have all of them for themselves.
It was no loss at all.
After writing and sending an email to the HR responsible for the internship program, firing them all for this year's fiasco, Lex got into work.
It only took a few minutes for him to stumble onto that cursed photo. It was already everywhere, like all the previous ones.
And like with previous ones, it was repulsive.
Maybe even more so than the others.
It showed Wayne in front of a mirror, wearing a skimpy, black and lace dress with no shoulders and deep neckline.
It exposed his cleavage, highlighted even more by a tight corset squeezing his waist and chest with bloody red ribbons.
Long sleeves covered his arms, lace ruffles falling in waves over his hands. In one he had a phone he took the photo with, the other held the hem of the flounced skirt, lifting the layers of black and red fabric to create space underneath it.
Space that was occupied by Wayne's newest boy toy.
The man knelt next to Wayne, his huge palm holding onto his thigh, two fingers curled around the suspender attached to the lace stocking.
The other hand was out of view, most likely grabbing Wayne's ass, because these two already proved they had no shame.
Further proven by the man's face - invisible because it was hidden under the skirt.
“Trying out a new style. I think he likes it 😏” said the caption that Wayne probably written while smiling cheekily.
Just like he was smiling to the camera while his man whore nibbled on his undergarment.
Lex's stomach twisted uncomfortably.
He closed the laptop with a snap.
Everyone in Gotham had their opinion on Brucie Wayne - more or less positive, and that included criminals.
Some wanted him dead because he represented everything they hated - riches, privilege, arrogance.
To others, he was just another Gothamite to rob - a bit amusing, but no one to worry about.
And then there was a third group who, much like regular people, was something of a fan of the billionaire.
Even crooks weren't immune to Brucie's charm.
“I thought being Joker's henchman would be more exciting,” Billy sighed from his spot on the old couch, scrolling on his phone.
“What's more exciting than sitting on a hundred jack-in-the-box bombs that can explode any moment?" Joe asked, watching the street through the boarded-up window.
Billy rolled his eyes. “They not gonna explode."
“How do you know?" Jen asked. She was laying on the hood of an old car, tossing and catching back a little red stress ball.
“It wouldn't be funny," Billy explained and chuckled at a video of an orange cat dangling from a door.
“I don't know, blowing up your own henchmen sounds like something Joker would do," Joe pointed out.
Billy looked up and saw him eyeing the crates full of custom jack-in-the-box. Some with good old TNT, others with Joker's venom.
Joker put it all in an abandoned car repair shop in the industrial part of the city. Part of the preparation for his next plan.
Joker was going to hide them all over the city and have Batman search for them before they could explode.
Billy hoped none would go anywhere near his shitty, rented apartment.
“You think Bane is hiring?" he asked his colleagues.
Guarding a bunch of bombs wasn't how he imagined working for a Clown Prince of Crime would be.
At least they weren't made to paint their faces to look like the clown himself, but Billy expected more fun.
“I don't recommend," Jen said. “I worked for him a year ago."
Joe gave her a curious look. “Why did you quit?"
Jen caught the ball and sat up, throwing it from hand to hand now.
“He killed his own henchman in front of us, I didn't want to be next,” she answered grimly.
“And you decided Joker is a safer option?" Joe questioned.
She shrugged with a smirk. “I'm still alive, aren't I?"
Billy and Joe both chuckled, and the shop got quiet for a while. Apart from the sound of Jen tossing the ball again, the rain tapping against the skylight and occasional, distant thunder.
Billy scrolled mindlessly through his Twitter feed until one photo caught his attention.
“Hey, Bruce Wayne posted a new pic with the Hunk,” he quickly told the other two.
Jen looked at him with a raised brow. "You into that shit?”
"You're not?” Billy asked back.
The whole Gotham was living on the mystery of Brucie's mysterious boyfriend.
"I prefer to rob the rich, not stalk them," she explained.
“It's not stalking if they over share on Instagram," Billy pointed out, but Jen only snickered.
“Who cares? He'll have a new boy toy in a few weeks," she told him.
Billy shook his head.
He's been following Bruce Wayne even before he started posting those photos. The fact he published them was evidence enough that this relationship was something special.
The new photo he was looking at right now only confirmed that.
“Nah, this one feels permanent,” he insisted. "He has never done this before."
With any of his previous relationships.
“He's an attention whore, he figured out it will get him some,” Jen argued. "He'll get bored soon enough.
“What did he post?” Joe asked.
Billy patted the spot on the couch next to him, inviting him.
At least one person shared his interest.
Joe abandoned his post by the window and walked to join him. Jen must've felt left out because she slipped down the car and approached Billy's couch too.
Joe and Jen sat down on both sides of him and leaned in to look at the photo.
It was another selfie, showing Brucie winking cheekily at the camera while sitting on top of the kitchen island.
In the background was the Sexy Hunk in all his glory, standing by the stove with his back to the camera.
Naked back, only a pair of boxers hanging low on his hips.
The man was built like a tank, and while Billy was very much straight, he had to admit, he was hot!
No wonder Brucie fell for that.
The caption under the photo matched the vibe of it.
"Having a midnight snack. Bae is cooking 😋🤤”
Joe whistled appreciatively.
"Damn, he's buff.”
Billy nodded in agreement. "I wonder who he is."
He followed a couple of accounts that investigated the mystery but so far none found a concrete candidate to be the Sexy Hunk.
And people were really dedicated, analyzing everything about Brucie's life to make a connection.
“Bane," Jen suggested.
She cackled when Billy glared at her.
“What if the guy is Batman?” he proposed instead.
"No way,” Joe rejected his idea right away.
"It could be!" Billy insisted. “If he can toss us around like toys when beating our asses, he can surely do pull-ups with Wayne's scrawny ass clinging to him."
Billy knew something about it. He had the misfortune of facing Batman more than once. He weighed 220 pounds, but whenever Batman yeeted him across the room, Billy felt like he was as heavy as a sparrow.
Or a robin.
“There's nothing scrawny about Wayne's ass,” Joe pointed out, making Billy snort.
"Fair point.”
"Okay, Batman fits physically, but Wayne hates him tho,” Joe noticed. "He always roasts the guy.”
"Because it's a cover," Billy emphasized. "So no one suspects they're fucking."
Joe considered it for a moment before nodding.
“You could be onto something,” he admitted, making Billy smile smugly.
“Is Brucie wearing a sheet?" Jen asked suddenly.
Billy and Joe both took a closer look. What Billy took as a shirt at first, upon closer inspection, turned out to be a bedsheet that probably cost more than anything Billy ever owned in his life.
“Someone had a fun night so far,” Joe grinned, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Listen to the comments,” Billy told his colleagues. “They're hilarious.”
He read a couple to Joe and Jen.
“Right in front of my salad?!”
“He called him bae!”
"Why cook when there's a snack right in front of you?!”
"I was just about to come down to grab something to eat. Thanks, guys 😑”
"Hey, this one is written by Wayne's kid!" Joe pointed out the last one.
Billy checked the name of the account, and it definitely was Wayne's boy.
“Oh yeah.” So Brucie was bringing the Hunk to his home, and his kids knew the man. "Poor guy.”
"Brucie actually replied,” Jen noticed and without waiting for Billy, she showed the conversation between Wayne and his boy.
@BrucieWayne, 11:12PM
"Eating before bed is unhealthy, Timmy."
@DrakeWayne, 11:15PM
“Then why are the two of you eating?”
@BrucieWayne, 11:17PM
"We're not going to sleep."
“Damn, saying something like that to your kid?” Joe questioned with concern. "Should we call cps?"
“Maybe he meant something else than sex,” Billy defended the man weakly.
"What else could he mean at this hour?" Jen asked.
Just as she finished her question, there was a flash on the outside, the lightning striking somewhere nearby, followed by an immediate boom of thunder.
The inside of the shop exploded with light, except for a huge, bat-shaped shadow falling right onto the three of them.
Billy and his colleagues froze, their faces pale.
Hesitatingly, they looked up, and in the same moment, Batman dropped through the skylight along with the rain of water and glass.
"It's Batman!” Joe shouted, struggling to pull the gun from under his jacket.
"Run!” Billy yelled, not even bothering.
They all scattered in three different directions as Batman landed in the middle of the room, cape pooled around him like a shadow, water running down his armored body.
He stood up slowly, without a sound. Like a machine. And Billy almost pissed himself like when he faced the Dark Knight for the first time.
The Bat turned his whole frame to face Jen that was trying to escape through the backroom, and faster than humanly possible, he threw a batarang at her.
The blade punctured the door and the frame, making it impossible to open, but Jen still tried, tugging the handle desperately.
When that didn't work, she pulled out her gun but didn't even fire it before Batman threw a dart at her.
Jen fell to the ground like a log, unmoving but eyes wide open and terrified.
Batman turned to Billy and Joe crammed by the main door that didn't want to open despite it not being locked. As if something was blocking it.
Joe stopped trying to kick it open and faced the Bat.
“Fuck this!" he snarled and took out his Uzi.
Batman raised his cape, and all the bullets bounced off it, falling to the floor uselessly.
Billy didn't even try to take out his gun, and Joe dropped his, resigned.
"Fuck,” he muttered, fearfully pressing back against the door when Batman slowly lowered the cape, staring at them with those unnerving, white lenses of his cowl.
“Fuck indeed," Billy agreed and shivered when the Bat started to move towards them.
Just a few minutes later, the three of them were tied together on the floor. Jen was moaning, the sedative slowly leaving her body, but apart from that, they weren't harmed.
Batman was still in the room, inspecting the boxes with Joker's bombs.
“I found Joker's hideout,” he told someone on the comm. Probably Commissioner Gordon. "Bring the bomb squad.”
Billy couldn't hear what the response was, but police must've been on the way, because Batman began to leave, walking past them to reach the door.
At least he was going to leave normally. Billy expected him to do it the same way he came in.
"Batman. Hey,” Billy called the hero’s attention. The Bat actually stopped and looked at him. “Can I ask you a question?” He didn't wait for him to answer. "Are you dating Bruce Wayne?"
Billy felt Joe twisting in their bounds. Probably to look at him in shock. Jen only let out a frustrated groan.
Batman stared at him without saying anything for what felt like eternity, making Billy shift nervously. The only visible part of the hero's face wasn't revealing anything.
Was he offended by the question? Amused? Billy couldn't tell.
“No," he finally answered and continued his way out.
The door opened without an issue when Batman turned the knob, and he left into the rain and night.
Before the door closed again, Billy caught sight of something red outside.
The three of them sat there awaiting arrest, shivering because of the cold slipping in through the broken skylight.
"So…" Billy said through his chattering teeth. His colleagues shifted behind him, listening. “You think he lied or…”
"Oh, shut up,” Jen groaned.
It didn't take long for another picture to appear. Brucie was on fire, it seemed. Or in a bragging mood which, in many people’s opinions, was completely justified.
Harley was one of them.
She wouldn't call herself Wayne's fan, but she enjoyed the shenanigans he got himself into. So, when he started posting pictures of himself with his new boy toy, she supported him thoroughly.
She knew first-hand how hard it's to find genuine love, and it was even harder to find a good lover.
So, if he found at least one, good for him.
She followed the reveal from day one and even roped her girlfriend to join her. Harley told Pamela about every photo and made sure to show them to her.
Not only because she was happy for Brucie, but because they were hot, and she was, unfortunately, still attracted to men.
And she loved to recreate those photos with Pam.
“Honeybee, the movie is starting!" Harley shouted in the direction of another room where Pam was.
“Then stop pushing the play button!" Pam shouted back and continued talking to her plants she was watering.
The whole apartment was full of them, it was like a jungle, so it took a lot of time to get through them all.
Harley huffed, draping herself dramatically over the back of the couch. She pressed the stop button on the remote.
“Do they even need watering?" she asked. “Can't you cast some plant magic to keep them alive?"
She heard Pam chuckle, and it made Harley's stomach jump giddily.
“I like to watch them grow naturally when not murdering people," she replied.
Harley threw herself back into the coach with a groan. "Imma eat all the popcorn!" she threatened and grabbed a fistful.
"You always do anyway,” Pam replied.
Harley rolled onto her stomach and reached for her phone, long forgotten since she settled down to watch a movie that was now five minutes late.
She scrolled mindlessly through Instagram while waiting for Pamela to be finished when she got a notification from Brucie's account.
Grinning like a Cheshire Cat, she opened it immediately.
“Babe! There's a new photo!" she yelled to Pam. Her girlfriend came to the living room right away. "Oh, now you come, to see two men being freaky, but not to cuddle and make out with me while watching a movie?" Harley complained. "I'm hurt!"
Pam rolled her eyes at her, but she was smiling warmly. "Just show me the photo,” she requested. "You know you want to.”
Harley eagerly handed Pam her phone.
It was fairly tame compared to the previous two. No naked skin, no eroticism or possessiveness.
Just two hands - one golden, kissed by the sun and perfectly smooth, the other pale and callused, holding one another between car seats.
“Off for a romantic getaway! 🚗💨 More details later!”
“You know what that means?” Harley asked, wiggling her eyebrows. "There will be another photo later!”
"Good,” Pan said. "Recreating this one would be boring."
“I bet ten bucks they gonna fuck in the forest,” Harley giggled and pulled Pam to join her on the couch, wrapping her arms around the other woman so she couldn't escape. “Mine, at last!" she announced, triumphant.
Pam returned her embrace. "Don't get too freaky too early,” she warned Harley. "There's no photo to recreate yet.”
"My imagination will be enough for something fun,” Harley flirted, caressing Pam’s face tenderly.
"I thought you wanted to watch a movie," Pam reminded her, but didn't object when Harley pulled her down onto herself.
“It won't start until I press play,” Harley noticed cheekily, her fingers now skimming down Pam's side, making the other woman's shiver. “Besides, maybe we could inspire Brucie and his Hunk this time rather than the other way around?" she suggested. “We could use your plants to imagine we’re in the forest too.”
“I’m not gonna use my babies to fuck you,” Pam refused.
“You’re no fun,” Harley pouted, but Pam quickly wiped it off Harley’s face by capturing her lips in a heated kiss.
One hour later, after a shower and remaking the popcorn after the first batch ended up on the living room floor, Harley and Pam were finally ready to watch the movie.
They settled comfortably on the couch, cuddled under a single blanket, and Harley pressed play.
Just five minutes into the movie, Harley's phone pinged.
She grabbed it immediately and opened the notification.
"Ugh, they're so disgustingly cute!” she said and gagged.
Pam moved Harley's hand holding the phone closer to her face.
Instead of something hot and suggestive, if not downright pornographic, the photo Brucie posted was once again, pretty tame.
It reminded Harley a lot of the first one Wayne posted, but it lacked the eroticism to be more intimate instead.
It wasn't a full body shot, but just from the collarbone up. The Sexy Hunk wasn't kissing Brucie possessively, but seemed to be simply hugging him, face hidden against his neck.
There was no cheeky smile on Brucie's face this time, but one much softer and unguarded as they posed against the sunset in the background.
"The sunset is amazing. So are the kisses 😘🌅”
“Pay up, buttercup,” Pam told Harley.
“Hold on!” she protested. “Just because they didn’t post a photo of them sweaty and dirty on the forest floor didn’t mean they didn’t fuck!”
“They look like they just had a picnic, hon, not a freaky, animalistic sex on the forest floor,” Pam insisted, kissing the top of her head.
Harley whined in protest. “They’re getting soft,” she said and tossed the blanket aside, uncovering their naked bodies. “Imma show them how it’s done!”
Pam only shook her head while Harley quickly posed for a selfie. She laid directly between her girlfriend’s legs, covering her crotch, but leaving no doubt that Pam was very much naked.
With hand wrapped possessively around Pam’s thigh, Harley took a photo, winking at the camera and making sure her breasts weren't visible.
She didn’t want to get banned.
“What happened to you boys? You used to be cool kids! @BrucieWayne” she typed the caption.
“Aaaand, posted!” she announced proudly to the other woman.
Pam took the phone from her and looked at the post. “Did you seriously tag Bruce Wayne?” she chuckled.
“That was the point,” Harley explained and returned to previous position, covering them both with the blanket again. “Now shh, this is the best part!”
Harley enjoyed her movie for about five minutes before her phone pinged again. She unlocked it lazily, expecting some horny messages from people or series of threats from Joker.
When she opened the notification, Harley was met with a photo from Brucie that he tagged her in.
Wayne winked back at her from it, smiling impishly. He had a hem of his shirt trapped between his pearly white teeth - holding it up and revealing his bare chest.
Well, not exactly bare.
The boy toy's giant hands were placed on it, covering Brucie's nipples and cupping his tits so well as if they were molded to be in his hold. His palms were pushing them up better than some push-up bras.
“Better, Ms. Harley? 😘 @JesterQuinn”
It took Harley a moment to realize what she was looking at, but when she did, she squealed loudly, startling both Pam and her beloved hyenas.
Brucie's newest hobby was making people invested like a good tv show. And like a tv show, it was followed in anticipation, the viewers never knowing what was going to happen next.
This telenovela was lasting for a few weeks now and people still weren’t bored by it, because Brucie kept the fire going expertly, dosing the experience. Whenever hype was dying down, the new photo would reignite the interest and have people talking and speculating.
At this point, many people were more eager to have those updates coming for as long as possible rather than lose them with the reveal of the Sexy Hunk’s identity.
Waiting for new photos was its own entertainment, so even if the Hunk turned out to be a model Brucie hired for attention, very few people would be angry because of it.
Lisa hoped it wasn’t a model.
She was far too invested for this to turn out fake. Brucie’s photos often brightened her day, and she hoped that if the relationship was real, he and his boyfriend would keep posting photos, giving her a bit more joy in life.
Never before has she been this invested in a celebrity's life. She knew it was pathetic, basing your happiness on someone else, but she couldn’t help herself. Her life lacked its own joy, so she was clinging to other people.
Bruce Wayne wasn’t a typical rich guy, so she felt justified, and he looked really cute with the other guy. Especially after they started posting more tender photos.
Lisa couldn’t even see the other guy’s face, but she just knew he had an awestruck expression whenever looking at Brucie.
The day was slow, just before a more hectic lunch break, so Lisa took advantage of that, scrolling through her phone while no one was at the drive through at the moment.
“What are you smiling at?" her coworker asked, smiling at her from the grill he was working on.
Lisa jolted, startled.
"Oh, just new Brucie's photo,” she replied, glad it was just Patrick and not the manager that caught her slacking.
The manager didn't like it when they were sitting on their phones, even when there was nothing else to do.
Patrick chuckled. “You still into that?”
Lisa blushed, even though she knew the man wasn't judging her. He was just over fifty and was never interested in the whole thing in the first place, so he was a little confused when other people were.
And to this extent too.
“Yeah, it's fun,” she explained.
Patrick walked up to her. “And what is the Prince of Gotham up to now?”
Encouraged, Lisa eagerly showed him the photo.
For the first time it wasn't a selfie, but a photo taken by someone else. It showed Brucie being carried away somewhere by the Sexy Hunk.
And it wouldn't be them if it was a simple bridal carry. Not when the Hunk was able to lift Brucie easily.
He didn't seem to be struggling now either - Brucie was thrown over his shoulder like some hunted game, legs dangling playfully and ass on display, cladded in a pair of white, tight slacks.
It was a nice ass.
“I'm being kidnapped for lunch. Don't send help 💖"
Lisa observed Patrick's reaction to both the photo and the caption.
The man shook his head, but there was a fond smile on his face.
"This boy will never change,” he commented.
"Check the comments too,” Lisa suggested, scrolling through a few.
"🍑🍑🍑”
"Looks like billionaire season but not the kind I expected. Not complaining tho”
"He's kidnapped for lunch but I'm afraid he's not the one who'll be eating 👅”
“Bring me some Wendy’s on your way back, will you?"
Lisa chuckled at the last one.
"It's actually Brucie's son,” she explained to Patrick. "Would be cool if he came here,” she practically squealed with excitement.
If Brucie Wayne actually came to Wendy's she worked at, she would drop dead. She never saw him in person despite living in Gotham all her life, only on tv.
Sometimes she thought it was easier to encounter Batman than catch Bruce Wayne on the street, because she actually saw Batman once.
From a distance, but it counted!
"Don't get your hopes up,” Patrick warned her. "There's fifty other Wendy's in Gotham, and ours isn't even on his way from the Wayne Manor."
“I know that," she assured with a pout. "I'm just dreaming a little.”
She didn't get the chance to do it for much longer before the lunch hours started.
Lisa took one last look at the photo, saving it to her album dedicated to Brucie, and quickly pocketed the phone before starting to accept the order from the customer that had just shown up.
It quickly got fast-paced from there, and Lisa got lost in the work - juggling taking orders, accepting cash and handing out food.
All that multitasking almost made her miss the most important customer of her career. By some miracle, she decided to look away from the screen when typing in another order and took a glance at the customer she was handing his food to.
And she froze, gaping as she stared into the steel blue eyes of Brucie Wayne himself, giving her his signature, charming smile.
Holy shit, she thought to herself, almost dropping the bag and the cup holder with his drinks, all balanced on one hand.
Brucie chuckled, and Lisa realized she said it out loud. Her face quickly turned red, and she struggled to turn off the earpiece, because the clients on the other line must've heard it too.
"Don't you worry, I hear it all the time,” Brucie assured her, leaning out of the window of some sports car that purred like a cat.
Lisa laughed nervously. "Sorry," she apologized anyway. “I'm just a big fan."
“I hope I'm not a role model tho. I'm not the best for that," he said with a wink that made Lisa's stomach fill up with butterflies.
"I couldn't afford to follow your lifestyle anyway,” she joked back, trying to discreetly look into the car to spot the Sexy Hunk.
They left together, he should be in the car with Brucie! But Lisa couldn't see him in the passenger seat, and she didn't think that car had the back seats at all.
“He's not here," Brucie resolved her dilemma, smiling in amusement.
Lisa's face burned.
“S-sorry," she apologized again, wishing the floor could swallow her. She just met Brucie Wayne, and she kept embarrassing herself. “I'm just curious,” Lisa explained herself, disappointed the Hunk wasn't at least hiding in the back.
“He's in the trunk," Brucie told her, expression deadpan.
Lisa just stared, unsure how to answer, when the man giggled.
"I'm joking. I dropped him off to pick up our food while I picked up Tim’s," Brucie explained the Hunk’s absence.
Lisa suddenly remembered she was at work. Brucie's order was currently getting cold in her hold. The voice of another customer was in her earpiece. And a distant honking was coming from outside where the line formed after the cars stopped moving.
Fuck, Gina was probably on her way already to scold her.
"Don't worry, I'll tell her it's my fault," Brucie promised.
Lisa should really stop yapping her thoughts out loud. She was getting used to having her face on fire because of it.
“Here's your order," she said and handed Brucie everything.
He took the food and drinks, placing them carefully on the passenger seat before turning back to Lisa. He ignored the honking from the car behind him and fished something out of his pocket, handing it to Lisa.
It was a wad of cash.
"And here's a tip for you,” he said.
Lisa accepted the tip with a shaking hand, but she didn't even get the chance to pocket it when she heard footsteps behind her.
“Lisa!" her manager Gina shouted, stomping her way. "What's going on? There's a line outside all the way to the harbor!”
Lisa opened her mouth to explain herself, but Brucie beat her to it.
"I'm sorry, ma’am, that appears to be my fault,” he said apologetically. "You have such a lovely staff I couldn't help but chat a little, and-" he paused to read Lisa's nameplate. “-Lisa here was too polite to tell me to buzz off,” he joked.
Gina was hard to talk over, but Brucie did it easily. Lisa's manager couldn't resist his charm. Very few people in Gotham could, they all loved him.
After five more apologies, Brucie finally left, paying for the next ten cars to further apologize for the inconvenience Lisa caused, and for which he took the blame.
It still took some time to clear the line, but at least Lisa didn't lose her job. Hopefully.
When everything calmed down, and Lisa had a bit of time to sit down with a sigh, Patrick was by her side immediately.
“You okay?" he asked with worry.
Lisa nodded. “That was Bruce Wayne," she told him, still not believing she met the Prince of Gotham himself. “At the beginning."
“Really?"
“Yeah. And I made a fool of myself in front of him." This was something she was going to remember ten years from now on when suffering from insomnia at 3am. “But he was really nice about it. And he took the blame for the line my foolery created. And he gave me a tip."
Lisa pulled the money from her pants pocket, finally having a chance to count through it. She didn't know how much she got, but when the number didn't stop at a hundred, her eyebrows reached her hairline.
"Holy shit!” she gasped and looked at Patrick in shock. “There's two thousand here!"
“Wow, that's amazing! Congrats, Lisa!” Patrick said, patting her on the shoulder.
Lisa wasn't even bummed she didn't get the chance to be the first person to see Sexy Hunk's face.
She got to meet Brucie and got two thousand bucks from him!
This was the best day of her life!
The phones of Bruce Wayne's PR team have been ringing nonstop for the past few weeks. Everyone wanted to book an interview and be the one to get an exclusive on Sexy Hunk.
The problem was, nobody was picking up the phones, emails were delivered without an answer, and Bruce Wayne himself was quiet, never answering any of the questions.
If anyone was lucky to catch sight of him outside Wayne Enterprises building or somewhere else public, the most they got from him was an elusive smile and a wink.
Whatever game he was playing, he was winning and having everyone wait for another bomb to drop.
There was no saying when it would happen, so everyone had to always be ready.
When Brucie's PR team finally responded to one of the requests, agreeing for Brucie to star in their talk show, but only if it happened in the newest episode and it was kept as a secret until the last minute, no one hesitated.
The contract was signed immediately and previously booked guests were rescheduled just a day before their supposed appearance on the talk show, even if it meant paying them for breaking the contract.
Having Brucie on the show was going to be more profitable anyway. No one responsible for the show could be sure what to expect from him, but no matter what it would be, the viewing would be through the roof!
Just an hour after securing Bruce Wayne's appearance, a new photo was posted on all his profiles.
But not by him.
“He had a rough day. Don't tell him I posted this 🤫"
Everyone working for the station already knew they hit the jackpot with this deal, but with this new photo? It instantly became a gold mine.
“We have a special guest today that requested us to not announce him until the last minute,” Rita Girano, the host of the Gotham Night Live announced with barely contained excitement just as she began her show.
Just like everyone else in Gotham, and given that she worked in show business, she was deeply invested in Bruce Wayne's love mystery.
So, when her bosses told her they got him to show up on HER show, to sit next to HER and answer HER questions, she was beyond thrilled.
So much so that even waiting less than 24 hours for this moment felt like a whole eternity.
But it was finally here. Bruce Wayne was just a couple of feet away and she had about five minutes to get info about his mysterious boyfriend from him, because that’s how long he agreed to be on the show.
Just five minutes.
She could do it. She had to do it.
Not for her bosses but for herself and all those people that were invested in this mystery.
Grinning widely, Rita continued introducing her guest.
“Show your love for the most eligible bachelor in Gotham who may not be a bachelor for much longer - Brucie Wayne!"
Bruce Wayne came out from backstage, dressed in a simple, dark purple turtleneck and white pants, hair styled perfectly. There was a spring in his step, and he was smiling charmingly and waving at the audience that went crazy at the sole mention of his name.
People were either clapping or screaming. Or both, and if phones were allowed in the studio, they would've been recording as well.
The massive chaos didn't affect Brucie in the slightest. He crossed the studio with his typical suaveness and confidence, approaching Rita and going straight for the hug and kissing each of her cheeks twice.
Rita pulled away with a cheerful laugh.
“It's good to have you, Brucie, how are you?" she asked and motioned at the couch for the guests when the ruckus died down a little.
“Good, and you?" Bruce answered while taking the offered seat.
She did too, placing one leg over the other, covered only to her knees by a tight, red dress.
Usually, men always glanced at her legs at least for a second, but Bruce didn't, his eyes locked on her face.
Interesting.
He must've been really devoted to his boyfriend if he didn't take even a quick peek.
She couldn't blame him. If Bruce's boyfriend was hers, she wouldn't glance at anyone else either.
“I'm great," she answered, smiling at him.
Brucie tilted his head curiously.
“You got a new hair color," he noticed in a bit guessing tone.
“I did!” She flipped her hair over the shoulder. "Thank you for noticing!”
Rita dyed her hair this morning to look her best for tonight.
"It really brings out your eyes,” Brucie complimented, matching her body language and lacing his hands on the knee.
"Thank you! But we aren't here to talk about me,” she reminded him, getting a little laugh from the audience.
"We should!” he countered, and people laughed again. "How about we switch up?" he offered, eagerly scooting closer to the edge of the couch, clearly excited. "I always wanted to run a talk show.”
"Oh, you're not getting out of this, Brucie,” Rita denied him instantly, waving her finger at him. "You came here, willingly, and you gonna answer all of my questions.”
Brucie pouted cutely, winning the audience’s favor easily.
"All right. You're the host,” he gave up with a sigh, returning to his previous position.
"Okay, first question.” Rita started seriously. “Is he watching this right now?"
“I hope so." Brucie turned to the active camera and waved his fingers at it. "Hi, honey!”
Rita laughed in delight, barely hearing herself over the awwing from the audience, who absolutely loved the cute, indirect interaction.
When it calmed down a little, Rita took control over the show again.
“Okay, Brucie, second question.” He sat up straighter as she pointed at the big screen behind them, and the newest photo from Brucie’s social media showed up. “What is this?”
The photo mostly showed Bruce himself - dressed in an oversized hoodie, clearly tired but sound asleep.
As if the photo itself wasn't already exceptional, showing Bruce Wayne in such a vulnerable state, there was this one, tiny - or not - detail that made it even better.
Brucie wasn't laying on the couch or on the bed. He wasn't curled in an armchair or recliner.
He was safely tucked in his boyfriend's lap, muscular arm wrapped protectively around him, holding him close and safe while the other hand took the photo, careful not to show his own face.
While the previous photos were sensual and erotic, this was just precious. A glimpse into an intimate moment shared after an entire day of hard work. When Brucie could finally relax in the presence of a man he trusted deeply.
Rita felt her heart melt whenever she saw this picture, and so did Brucie, apparently, because he looked at it with an enamored expression.
"It's a photo of me and my lovely boyfriend,” he answered her question, reluctantly looking away from the screen.
“That's all you have to say about this?" Rita questioned with a raised eyebrow.
Bruce shrugged. “What else is there to say?" he innocently asked back.
"Let's start with who is that?!” Rita demanded, pointing at the photo again.
Specifically, at the little bit of jawline of the Sexy Hunk that made it into the photo.
"I thought we already covered it," Brucie said with genuine confusion, looking really cute with his perfectly trimmed brows frowning. “That's my boyfriend," he said again, practically giggling with excitement.
"No. NO!" Rita stopped him. “We're not playing that game! I need more! We all do! Details! Name, profession, what's his sign and social number!"
The frown on Bruce's face grew deeper. “That's illegal to share.”
"Brucie!” Rita whined while the audience laughed.
Bruce chuckled. “Okay, how about this. I'll tell you two lies and one truth," he offered. “And you have to figure out which is which.”
Rita knew she could get very little from him, but what other choice did she have?
“All right, hit me with it," she agreed to his offer.
"His name is Greg, he's a parking valet and his shoe size is sixteen," Brucie listed and sat back comfortably.
"He doesn't look like Greg,” Rita pointed out and looked at the audience, many of them nodding in agreement.
Brucie smiled. “He doesn't, doesn't he?"
“And no way he's a valet," she continued. "We all saw the other pictures, right?”
Rita addressed the audience again, and they all reacted lively, remembering the previous photos well.
"He's absolutely massive,” Rita pointed out to Brucie, who smiled smugly. “This giant wouldn't fit inside most of the cars.”
He didn't confirm, nor deny. But he didn't have to. The arm wrapped around Brucie's waist in the photo was enough confirmation.
"You just told me his shoe size, didn't you?” Rita asked directly.
Brucie's smile widened. “Great detective work," he praised.
Rita shook her head in disbelief. “You're impossible.”
“Thank you," Bruce replied sweetly, palm over his heart.
Rita laughed.
“You are not going to tell me anything, aren't you?”
"Where would be the fun in that?” Brucie asked in return.
“Can you at least tell us if he got in trouble for this picture?" Rita wanted to know, referring to the caption under the photo.
"Oh yeah,” Brucie confirmed. "He got a slipper to the face."
The audience oohed - some in amazement, others in concern.
Brucie raised his hands to calm them down.
"Don't worry, guys, he didn't even feel it,” he promised and lowered his hands, smiling cheekily. "Besides, he likes it.”
Brucie laughed along with the people in the audience and Rita.
"All right, Brucie, thank you so much for coming and telling us absolutely nothing new,” she said and stood up when she was given a sign that their time was over.
Brucie chuckled and stood up as well, smoothing out his turtleneck.
"I told you his shoe size,” he reminded.
Rita laughed and clapped. "Brucie Wayne, everybody!” she presented him again as he took a big bow before leaving the studio.
The show didn't go as expected, but it was still a success. The views, the internet traffic, it all did its job, even if they didn't learn anything new about Bruce Wayne's mysterious boyfriend.
Besides his shoe size, but that was not valuable info.
Unless the correlation between that and how well-endowed men with big feet were was true then… wow! Brucie was a lucky man!
Still, Rita had to admit it was all worth it. She got to see with her own eyes how lovestruck Brucie Wayne was when looking at the picture his boyfriend took of them.
This whole thing wasn't staged as some people insisted it was.
The Prince of Gotham was in love.
The photos stopped after this.
Just like that. And Brucie refused to say a thing about it, skillfully changing the subject whenever he was asked about it.
Some people celebrated, sure that they were right about this being just a stunt or a game. That Brucie just got bored.
Others were sad that the relationship that seemed so real, suddenly stopped like that. Or went back behind the closed door.
Many people were still waiting for another photo. They watched Brucie's profile like hawks.
That's why it took almost an hour for people to notice a photo posted on a profile with less than 50 followers.
A profile belonging to Clark Kent where he - until now - only posted photos of Metropolis, his parents' farm, the cows and other animals, outings with friends, a couple of selfies and just a bunch of random photos of things that caught his interest - like a cat or a squirrel in the park.
Just a typical, personal profile.
Until one Friday evening, when the photo of him and Bruce Wayne was posted there.
It showed the two of them, cheek to cheek, smiling brightly. There were tear marks on Brucie's face, and the beginning of new ones in the corner of his eyes as he showed his left hand to the camera, proudly presenting a ring placed on the designated finger.
It was a simple gold band, with a single, round diamond.
There was a short and very telling caption under the photo.
“He said yes! @BrucieWayne".
The reaction to the sudden engagement of Bruce Wayne and reveal of Sexy Hunk's identity after months of playing games was - understandably - hysterical, one minded and completely justified.
"WHO THE FUCK IS CLARK KENT?!”