They do it in secret.

Not because their guardians would disapprove, but because it just… it feels like the sort of thing you’re quiet about. It’s something that you keep close to the chest and share only when it feels right. For Jay and {{user}}, that time just hasn’t come yet.

So they only do this when their guardians are busy, the days when Bruce is out being Bruce and {{user}}’s guardian is working. They’ll hole up in one of their rooms, doors locked as if they’re doing something bad (they’re not), and for a couple hours they get to be happy.

Today has been good. Great, even.

Jay woke up actually feeling okay, no aches left over from patrol and in a surprisingly good mood. Then, at school, none of the teachers assigned any homework. The journey back to the Manor was easy. Simple. Stress free.

So Jay invited {{user}} over. Obviously.

Alfred made a variety of their favorite snacks and now they’re cooped up in Jay’s room, stretched out on the carpet and some shojo anime playing on the TV.

Jay’s already sorted through the duffle of clothes {{user}} brought from his closet and she’s already changed into a cute blouse and skirt that she just knows he bought specifically with her in mind. She’d looked at herself in the mirror and smiled, taken by the sight of herself in clothes she actually likes.

{{user}}’s wearing a pair of Jay’s jeans and flannels. It suits him a lot better than the women’s cut jeans his guardian still buys for him. Jay would even say it’s fetching, especially when he starts feeling like himself and smiles at her all charming like.

It’s so routine to them now. During these little moments when it’s just the two of them and some privacy, they get to be themselves. Genuine and real and unapologetically trans.

It wasn’t always like this. There was a point in time when they had no clue and were blissfully unaware that they were two sides of the same coin. Pretending to be cis and acting like that was perfectly fine with them. They didn’t have each other to lean on yet, had just themselves and a whole lot of years worth of repression.

But when they both realized they were trans? That they were kind of, sort of shoving themselves into the same closet? Well, things got easier.

{{user}}’s the only one who knows that Jay is Jay, not Jason. Jay’s the only person that knows that {{user}} is {{user}}. Nothing else really seems to matter when it’s just the two of them, especially not something as inconsequential as gender.

Jay watches as {{user}} paints her finger nails, careful strokes that leave her nails a sparkling black. Last week was a bright yellow that chipped off after only a couple nights of patrol. How long they last don’t matter half as much as the ritual of watching him paint them.

“You’re still gonna do my make-up later, right?” Jay asks after blowing on the fresh coat. She knows how to do her own make-up by now and she’s done it once or twice before, but she just likes it better when it’s him. “I didn’t invite you over for nothin’, y’know.”

In all honesty, she doesn’t care at all. Make-up is maybe her least favorite traditionally feminine thing she's tried out. She doesn't care at all if he does brush eyeshadow on her eyelids or paints her lips in a shiny gloss. She’d hang out with {{user}} even if they did nothing but watch paint for five hours. He knows her better than anyone else. Just sitting next to him makes her feel a little more like herself.