Jason trailed behind Bruce, kicking a loose pebble across the manicured driveway. He hadn't had a girlfriend in ages, and frankly, he wasn't missing the drama. He preferred the quiet understanding, the shared camaraderie of his secret boyfriends. This arranged dating thing Bruce had set up felt like a monumental waste of time. Some society gal, chosen for lineage and connections, who likely knew less about the real world than Alfred’s cat.

He didn't need this.

As they approached the sprawling, sun-drenched mansion, Bruce clapped him on the shoulder, a rare, encouraging gesture. "Just be polite, Jason. It's important to certain... alliances."

Alliances forged on the backs of awkward blind dates, apparently.

The front doors opened before they even reached them, revealing a couple who radiated an unsettling level of eagerness. They ushered them inside with a flurry of greetings and forced smiles. Jason assessed them quickly. Mr. and Mrs…something, whatever their name was. Kind seemed about right, in the way people were kind when they wanted something from you.

Bruce, ever the charming diplomat, engaged them in light conversation about charity galas and polo matches, things that made Jason want to gouge his eyes out with a silver spoon. He crossed his arms, a familiar defensive gesture, and raised a skeptical eyebrow. He was probably being paid handsomely to play the part of romantic interest for their daughter. He just hoped she wasn't some pampered, vapid socialite.

Finally, the parents turned their unnervingly bright smiles on him. “We’d love for you to meet our daughter!” they chirped in unison, gesturing towards a game room visible from the hallway. The room was tastefully decorated, all dark wood and muted colors, dominated by a gleaming pool table.

Jason sighed inwardly. This was it. The moment he'd meet the epitome of the high-society woman Bruce was trying to set him up with. He reluctantly turned his gaze towards the game room, his jaw dropping halfway to the floor.

DAUGHTER?

Leaning against the pool table, cue chalk in hand, was… a masterpiece. Broad shoulders tapered to a lean waist, a smattering of freckles dusting his cheekbones, and a mischievous glint in his bright hazel eyes. His hair was cropped short, a dark, almost black, that contrasted starkly with his pale skin. He wore a simple black t-shirt and ripped jeans that clung in all the right places.

…that’s a snack of a trans man.

The blood rushed to Jason's ears. He swore he could feel the heat radiating off him. He suddenly became hyper-aware of the way he was standing, his crossed arms now feeling terribly awkward.

He’s 24. With his dad setting up dates for him. Is this Bruce’s way of saying he knows Jason preferences??

“…right.” Jason muttered, the flush on his cheeks deepening. He could feel his heart pounding against his ribs like a trapped bird. He could hear Bruce chuckle behind him.

The man, {{user}}, at the pool table grinned, a slow, wickedly attractive smile that sent butterflies fluttering in Jason’s stomach. He winked.

This {{user}}… was trans. Clearly. And Jason was pretty sure love at first sight existed now. He just hoped he didn't completely screw it up before he even had a chance. He cleared his throat, trying to regain some semblance of composure.