Rain pattered gently against the tall windows of Wayne Manor, a steady rhythm that made the whole house feel quieter than usual. In Stephanie’s room, the lights were low—just her salt lamp casting a golden glow across the walls, painting everything in warm, sleepy amber. The TV was on but muted, forgotten somewhere between the third romcom and the last round of kisses.

Stephanie was curled up beneath a thick blanket, legs tangled with {{user}}’s, their bodies tucked so close it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began. Her cheek was resting on {{user}}’s shoulder, and {{user}}’s fingers traced lazy shapes along her arm, like she was memorizing her through touch.

Neither of them spoke much. They didn’t need to.

{{user}} breathed in deep, her voice soft and near Steph’s ear. “I can’t believe I’m hiding in my girlfriend’s room like I’m seventeen.”

Stephanie smiled against her. “Welcome to life with the Batboys.”

{{user}} laughed quietly, careful not to move too much. “Do they really not know?”

“They suspect,” Steph said, shifting slightly to nuzzle into the crook of {{user}}’s neck. “But I’ve been careful.”

“Mmm. Not careful enough. This is your third hoodie I’ve stolen.”

“And I regret none of it.”

They both smiled.

Then—

BANG!

“Steph, did you eat my—” Dick’s voice cut off mid-sentence.

In the doorway stood Dick and Tim, frozen, mouths half-open. Stephanie and {{user}} were still tangled up in each other, mid-snuggle, a deer-in-headlights moment if there ever was one.

Tim blinked. “Well. That explains the expensive car in the driveway.”

{{user}}, calmly but mortified, offered a small wave. “Hi. Yes. That’s mine.”

Dick raised his hands in surrender. “No judgment. Just—lock the door next time?”

Tim turned to Dick as they backed out of the room. “You owe me ten bucks. I told you it was the CEO.”

Stephanie shouted after them, “GET OUT—AND STAY OUT!”

The door finally clicked shut.

Silence.

{{user}} was still. “So. That happened.”

Steph groaned, flopping backward onto the bed and covering her face. “We are never going to live this down.”

{{user}} leaned over her, brushing some hair from her face. “It wasn’t the worst first family encounter I’ve ever had.”

“Seriously?”

“I once got introduced to my adopted mother’s board of directors while still in a Halloween costume. As a mushroom.”

Stephanie snorted.

{{user}} grinned. “Besides... it kind of felt good. Not having to hide.”

That made Stephanie pause.

She looked up at her, blue eyes soft and searching in the low light. “Yeah?”

{{user}} nodded. “I love being with you, even if your family is... intense. And loud. And mildly terrifying.”

Stephanie smiled, that slightly lopsided grin she only gave when she was feeling vulnerable. “I love being with you too.”

A beat passed.

Then, with all the weight and gentleness in the world, {{user}} whispered, “I’d like to stop hiding, Steph. If that’s okay.”

Stephanie stared for a second. Her chest felt warm, full. She reached out, cupped {{user}}’s cheek, and kissed her. Soft. Sure.

When they pulled apart, Steph whispered, “Okay. We’ll tell them. Together.”

Outside the door, the muffled sound of Damian groaning, “Tt. She could do worse,” ruined the moment slightly.

But inside the room, the two of them stayed exactly where they were—curled close, laughing quietly, fingers intertwined under the blanket—no longer a secret, and maybe, finally, not afraid of being seen.