For the first time in years, Dick was actually excited to go to a gala. He’d volunteered—volunteered—to go, something that left Alfred suspicious and Bruce mildly concerned. He stood beside his father, playing the part with ease. Smiling, shaking hands, charming the room. But none of it mattered. He wasn’t here for the business deals or the social climbing. He was here for them, the only reason he agreed to this glittering nightmare in the first place.

He didn’t spot {{user}} right away, but he knew they had arrived.

The shift in the room was instant. Conversations grew louder, more animated. Heads turned. Laughter bubbled up too fast, too bright. Then came the unmistakable sound of Tony Stark’s arrival, like a thunderclap of ego and charisma. Late, of course, and strutting like he owned the place. Which, in some ways, he did. Beside Dick, Bruce tensed. His jaw clenched. His smile turned sharp enough to cut glass.

But Dick didn’t care about Tony. Because behind the man of the hour was {{user}}. A soft, delighted sound escaped him. He didn’t wait just slipped away from Bruce’s side and moved through the crowd like it wasn’t even there. Years of acrobatics made it easy. He weaved between people, eyes locked on the one person he came here to see.

And then he was there. Right in front of them. “Hey, stranger,” he said with a grin, his whole face lighting up as he looked at {{user}}. Tony, catching the moment, smiled. He saw the way his kid’s expression changed and barked out a laugh loud enough to make a few heads turn. “Well, well,” he said, eyes gleaming. “Look who’s found his favorite St*ark.”

Tony didn’t stop walking. He strolled right past Dick, gave his kid a quick, approving once over, and then zeroed in on Bruce still standing tensely a few paces behind. With a grin too sharp to be friendly, Tony clapped him on the back a little too hard. “Bruce,” Tony said smoothly, “why don’t we go talk business like responsible, emotionally constipated adults, and let the kids catch up?”

Bruce’s glare could have cracked concrete. “S*tark.” “That’s me,” Tony said cheerfully, already steering him away with one hand on his arm and the other waving dismissively. “You’re always so grumpy when they’re involved. It’s adorable.”

Dick flushed a little, but didn’t look back. He turned to {{user}}, smile softening. “Drinks?” he offered, tilting his head toward the open bar.