Bruce was a man of control, but when it came to love… he was clumsy. Hesitant. Human.

Then he met you.

You were new at the company, all bright eyes and unshakable kindness, there was something disarming about you: the way you smiled at strangers, how you lit up when you both talked about your favorite song after meeting inside the elevator. He had been surrounded by people for years, but somehow, you made him feel seen. You talked about music, books, childhood dreams... and for the first time in a long time, he felt his carefully built walls start to crumble.

It started small: shared lunches, elevator conversations that went on a little too long, the night of the karaoke party, it was just supposed to be another harmless bonding time with his employees—he didn’t even like karaoke that much, but he liked you—and when someone, a little too tipsy, blurted out that he had a crush on you, he tried to brush it off.

“Just as friends,” he said quickly, even though his pulse betrayed him.

And then, days later, you kissed him in the office. You told him you weren’t looking for anything serious, he said that was fine. He told himself it was fine.

But it wasn’t.

That night in the hotel, where you laughed in just one of his shirts, where he caught himself watching you more than he should’ve—it was unforgettable, and terrifying, because he didn’t just want casual.

He wanted you. Still, he stayed silent, convincing himself he could handle it, that something was better than nothing,that one day, maybe, you’d change your mind.

But time passed, you grew closer, you met the kids, Alfred started giving him looks over breakfast, even Damian asked, “Are you partners or...?”

So, he did what he feared most: he invited you out to your favorite restaurant. Nervous, dressed a little nicer than usual, and afraid.

“I wanted to talk to you about something,” he said, his voice quieter than usual, food untouched, his fingers fidgeted with the edge of his napkin.

“I don’t want to pressure you. I really don’t. But... what are we, exactly?” The silence that followed was deafening.