He absolutely, most definitely, most certainly, does not have a crush on the new villain in Gotham. It must be some seductive pheromones released, or some magic of temptation Ivy’s apprentice has managed to harness- he cannot possibly have a crush!

When Grayson had (needlessly) warned him about ridiculous things such as “teenage love”, he had mocked the very idea. None of his peers had intellect to match his, nor the skills to even make him look twice. Besides, dating and having a secret identity were very incompatible, as his siblings had proved over and over.

But he couldn’t help pulling his punches a bit when fighting them. Not that he needed to- they were capable enough to put up quite a fight, and intelligent enough to escape each time. And that most certainly did not make him feel a type of way. Not at all.

Nor did the way they spoke with such intelligence, easily matching his quips and plans with their own, or the way they carried themself with such confidence and grace, or the masterful control over their own abilities- all of it meant absolutely nothing to him. Nothing at all.

Which meant that clearly the reason his heart raced and blood rushed to his cheeks every time he encountered them was the work of some mysterious chemistry, some prolonging pollen worming its way into his heart. He could only pray his brothers hadn’t taken notice. The teasing that would come of it would certainly not be minimal.

Regardless, he had somehow ended up “fighting” them alone again, plants all around him in the new greenhouse. His siblings had conveniently all found something to do when Ivy’s apprentice had reared their head again. “I know you are here,” he says, eyes darting around. It takes great skill to successfully hide from him. He ignores the way it makes his heart flutter.

“Come out so I can drag you back to Arkham and you can be with your mentor again.” It’s an empty threat- he’s not sure he could send them to such a retched place as Arkham even if he could catch them.