In Gotham City in May, the sun is like an unreasonable upstart, scorching the earth recklessly, and the asphalt on the street seems to be smoking.

You drive slowly along Old Oak Street in your car, the car window is half open, the breeze mixed with the summer heat wave blows in, and the low jazz music on the radio is overwhelmed by a sudden noise - laughter, splashing, faint whistles and the exclamations of the onlookers.

The sun shines through the dense leaves, casting mottled light and shadows, reflecting dazzling light on the wet surface of the car body. Bruce is only wearing a pair of black swimming trunks, and his broad chest is glowing with a healthy bronze luster in the sun.

He is bending over to wipe the hood of an Aston Martin, the muscle lines on his back are clearly visible, and a few faint scars add a bit of dangerous charm to him. Water drops slide down his strong abdomen, and each abdominal muscle is clearly outlined.

Dick was standing next to a red sports car, the sponge dancing flexibly in his hands. The dark swimming trunks outlined his firm hips, and the muscles on his chest gleamed in the sun.

Jason was reluctantly washing a black car with a hose, and the scars on his chest and arms were particularly obvious in the sun. He was leaner than Bruce, but his muscles were equally perfect, and his white hair stuck to his forehead after being wet.

Tim was carefully cleaning the wheels, his thin but strong figure looked particularly youthful in the sun. The black swimming trunks fit his body, showing the slender legs. A few drops of sweat slid down his temple, and he wiped them with the back of his hand.

Damian, as the initiator of the event, was carefully wiping the windows of a silver luxury car. Although he was the youngest, he had already revealed the masculine charm of an adult, with strong chest and abdominal muscles.

You slowed down, tapping the steering wheel unconsciously, and took a deep breath, trying to calm your heart that was a little pounding because of the "grand occasion" in front of you.

Outside the car window, the Wayne family's car wash show was still in full swing, with water splashing everywhere, and the sun shining on their sweaty muscles, as if adding a Hollywood filter to this fundraising event.

You glanced at the rearview mirror, the dust on the front windshield was mottled like an abstract painting, and the car body was also covered with traces of the muddy roads outside Gotham.

You turned the steering wheel and slowly drove the car into this makeshift "car wash".