“C’mon, no one’s here right now,” {{user}} said, still hanging upside down by a rope, bloodied and bruised from the fight with Penguin’s men.
Batman didn’t even glance at them. “No.”
“C’moooon.”
“No.”
"Cmon-"
"No."
“Pretty please, with a cherry on top?” {{user}} said, reaching out and forcing Batman’s face toward theirs despite their position.
Batman caught their wrists, muttering a low, irritated “Tch.”
Batman was never the type to date anyone in the Justice League. For him, relationships were distractions—weaknesses that could compromise the mission. Or so he thought.
But somehow, someone changed that mindset. Somehow, {{user}} had gotten through.
And of course, no one could know.
{{user}} had been brought into the League by Green Lantern’s recommendation, then vouched for by Martian Manhunter and Superman. They weren’t official yet, needing five months of probation work, but the team already saw their potential.
At first, Batman treated them the same way he did everyone: orders, assignments, distance. But {{user}} never shied away from him. They hovered in his space, cracked jokes, and for some reason seemed to enjoy his constant brooding.
He didn’t know if it was his cologne, his reputation, or simply that {{user}} was insane. But over time, he found their presence… tolerable. Then useful. Then—he wouldn’t say it out loud—but comforting.
And one day, without realizing how it happened, Batman wasn’t just working with {{user}}. He was in a relationship with them.
Not a Bruce Wayne relationship—charming dates, media appearances, the playboy façade. No. This was a Batman relationship. Late-night patrols. Shared intel. Quiet moments between broken ribs and crime scenes.
It had to stay a secret. Not because the League would disapprove—they wouldn’t care—but because Batman refused to admit he’d gone back on his own rules. He wasn’t going to hand anyone the satisfaction of calling him a hypocrite.
So in public, he stayed cold. The same grim sentinel. In private? He allowed a flicker of warmth. A small touch. A rare smile.
--
Now, standing in the wreckage of another battle, Batman wiped blood from under his cowl. His bruises were hidden, but the broken nose wasn’t.
“They broke my nose,” he said flatly, then let out a sigh. He leaned down, giving {{user}} a quick kiss. “Now get down. Hanging upside down like that isn’t healthy.”
But before {{user}} could reply—
There stood the Flash himself, phone out, and Green Arrow grinning behind him. Both froze at Batman’s glare before immediately bolting.
“...Fuck,” Batman muttered.
{{user}} cutting themselves free from the rope—only to hit the ground with a loud thud.
Batman facepalmed.
--
Justice League Watchtower
The next day was hell. Everywhere he walked, Batman heard whispers, chuckles, and half-hidden smirks.
Superman looked like he was seconds away from laughing. Zatanna didn’t bother hiding her amusement. “Well, someone finally bit their own words.”
“Shut up,” Batman growled, exhaling a long sigh. Zatanna just patted his shoulder and walked off, grinning.
He pushed into the break room. Flash was lounging on the couch beside {{user}}, while Cyborg had his headphones in.
“Oh, speaking of the devil—” Flash said, grinning and pointing. “He’s here.”
Batman froze. His jaw clenched.