Chapter Text
The Boy Wonder's signature smile turns sharp while his eye twitches as he watches Bruce from a distance, a gaggle of fawning ladies and some men practically hanging off of him.
It's certainly not the first time those snooty nobles acted like the man was just some fancy accessory to be had or prize to win and sadly won't be the last. As much as people like to whisper how Brucie was a 'shameless flirty playboy', the crowd wasn't exactly prim and proper either.
He almost misses when his teammates land near him, both curious and confused.
"Robin," Starfire calls out, floating to his side, "what is the matter?" She tries to look for something suspicious, but he doubts she'd find Brucie being surrounded by admirers suspicious.
"Woah, isn't that Bruce Wayne?" Beast Boy exclaims, perching on the ledge near them. "Awesome!"
"How many times do you have to say it?" Raven sighs, steps slow before stopping beside her friends. Though there was a small glint of interest in her usually apathetic eyes.
It was true, Beast Boy—really the team in general—had been ecstatic once they had been told that the Prince of Gotham himself had invited them. Turns out, it was more of a 'help guard the place' invite rather than an invite to the actual party.
"Man, I wish we could join."
"But we do not have the invite."
"Awh but this is so boooring!"
"Right, that's a valid reason. I'm sure Bruce Wayner will understand perfectly."
"Well..."
"Oh wait, Rob!" BB nearly jabs the Boy Wonder in the face, "you must know him right? I heard Bruce is always getting kidnapped and stuff. So you and Batman always gotta save him—that's gotta mean something yeah?"
'I better hope so...'
The teen glances back at the party, only to see one of the ladies brazenly press a kiss on Bruce's face. Only a short teasing peck at the corner of his lips, but Dick would lying if he said that didn't make his simmering anger boil over.
Taking a minute to make sure his voice is steady, he turns to his friends and smirks, "looks likes we have a party to crash."
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Sneakily—or as sneakily as a group of brightly coloured vigilantes can be—the Titans drop into the ballroom. Either by miracle or simply too caught up in their respective business, the group goes unnoticed.
"Woooah, this place looks so fancy!" Beast Boy exclaims, causing a few looks but again the party goers continue on their own business.
"Are you trying to get us kicked out?" Raven mutters, shaking her head. The boy pouts, opening his mouth to retort.
"C'mon," Robin interrupts quickly, "let's split up, cover more ground."
A few more hushed whispers and the team is dispersed. While Beast Boy and Raven used their abilities to conceal themselves, the other three dressed themselves in formal wear and blendede in with the staff.
Robin shares a conspirative wink with a familiar butler before striding confidently towards a particular group.
In the centre, Brucie chats brightly with his 'friends'. The boy grits his teeth when he notices the woman from before still practically draped over him. The man is smiling, but he knows him too well; the slight twitch of his left eye, the rigid posture whenever her hand strays, the strain in his smile does not escape the young vigilante.
As he approaches closer, the man glances his way, surprise flashing in his face for a fraction of a second before quickly smoothing out. None of the other even spare him a glance. Good.
The boy dressed as a butler approaches the group with a little haste, then pretends to skid on the floor, pretty much launching his tray to the group.
Ever the gentleman, Brucie Wayne immediately pushes the woman aside, letting the pale wine soak into his suit. The nobles gasp in indignation, glaring at the one responsible.
"Oh, I'm so sorry sir," the dark-haired boy bows.
The surroundings rich men and women simmer, anger apparent but decorom won't let them showcase said anger so openly.
"It's no trouble lad," Brucie Wayne laughs, managing to settle the tension, "I suppose I got my wish to get drown in wine." The group lets out exaggerated laughs, some using the opportunity to feel him over.
Oh, if looks could kill...
"Excuse me," the man gives them all a quick nod and walks over to the nearest bathroom. No one notices the servant following after.
_________________
"Sorry about the suit," Dick mumbles as the other dabs his white suit. The pale liquid wasn't quite visible to begin with.
"No," Brucie smiles, perfect and charming, "you granted my wish afterall."
The boy thins his lips, hands clenching. He glances at the stalls, empty then the door outside. The party was in full swing despite the host being gone. They must have assumed the playboy went off to have some 'fun'.
The thought makes the boy's lips curl.
Hearing the water stop, he glances back at the man. He doesn't make eye contact, staring at his jacket with a rueful smile. The teen takes a step towards him.
"I don't think it can be washed out."
Another step.
"Such a shame."
And another.
"I liked that suit."
Finally, they stood merely inches away. Dick looks over the other' face closely, trying to get the man to open up. Bruce meets his eye.
'Not here, not now—not yet'
Without another word, the teen nods. They both still have roles to play. Dick and Bruce can have their moment later.
Batman and Robin still had work to do.
Even so, just as the boy was about to leave, he hears it; whisper soft, like a secret just between them.:
"Thank you."
Dick turns around and see the other, his glacier eyes tender. The younger flashes Bruce a small grin and nods.
'Anything for you, B.'