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The First Time: Nightwing
The first time, nobody expected it, especially coming from the League’s newest member.
"They're sleeping together, there's no other way." Hal says, looking as if nothing in his life makes sense anymore.
Barry nods, leaning against the kitchen counter. "It blows my mind that someone as bright and colorful as Nightwing is hooking up with the personification of shadows."
Oliver pulls a glass from the cupboard, filling it with water. "Brave. I would never sleep with someone like him."
As if on cue, Nightwing walks past, eyes glued to his phone. "Who's sleeping with who?" he asks with little interest, just heading over to the cupboard to grab some cereal.
The three exchange glances, and Oliver can't help himself. "Are you and Batman, you know… involved?"
Nightwing freezes. The three heroes watch the color completely drain from what little of his face they can see. His expression of pure shock instantly morphs into horror, and his body reacts as if he might throw up at any second. "Where on earth did you get that idea?!"
"So… you and Batman… aren't? Like, not at all?" Hal tries to confirm.
"God, no! What a nightmare visual!" The younger hero looks genuinely offended by the question, as if they had just suggested he was hooking up with his own father. "This is the price I pay for getting out of bed today." He glares at the three older heroes. "Never, and I repeat, NEVER, under any circumstances, would I ever do anything of the sort with Batman."
Oliver laughs, sympathizing with the younger man's reaction. "I get it, man. I'd never sleep with Batman either."
Nightwing shudders and whispers so softly that the three of them barely catch it. "But you already have."
The three look at him in confusion, and Barry turns his gaze back to the archer. "You slept with Batman?"
"I think I’d remember if I slept with Batman," Oliver states.
He would remember if he had slept with Batman. That isn't the kind of thing you just forget.
Nightwing’s eyes widen as he realizes what he just let slip. "Forget I said anything. I'm still dizzy from that awful accusation."
The Second Time: Red Robin
The second time was just a coincidence.
The League was hosting its annual social gathering. Heroes, vigilantes, and anti-heroes from various teams filled the room, chatting animatedly.
Oliver and Barry were standing near a table, eating and drinking while they talked, when a trio of teenagers from the Teen Titans approached.
"Seriously, Red, you need to sleep," Superboy says, draping an arm around the younger boy’s shoulders.
"Honestly, it’s terrible, horrible, awful, dreadful—just as bad as seeing Green Arrow and B hooking up again," the boy in the red uniform murmurs, looking like he's recalling the horrors of war as he stares over to where Arsenal has his arm around Red Hood's shoulder.
Barry chokes on his drink, completely unable to pretend he wasn't eavesdropping on his grandson's conversation.
Impulse laughs out loud, not caring who hears.
"Wait…" Superboy freezes. "Batman and Arrow?"
Red Robin just nods, squeezing his eyes shut as if trying to erase a traumatic memory.
The teens walk away after grabbing a few cups of juice.
"Dude, that's the second time someone has said you slept with Batman," Barry exclaims, demanding answers. "Are you absolutely sure you didn't sleep with him?"
"Barry, trust me, I would know if I slept with him," Oliver says, flushing red. He has no idea what is going on, or why the younger heroes seem to think he and Batman are hooking up, but he desperately hopes this doesn't reach the Dark Knight's ears.
The Third Time: Robin
By the third time, it was officially becoming a pattern. The absolute peak of absurdity came courtesy of the youngest member of the Teen Titans: Robin.
Oliver, trying to play the "cool uncle," sat down near him in the cafeteria with a bowl of chili. He had heard rumors about the kid but decided to ignore them.
"You know, kid, you should smile more. You're gonna end up grumpy just like Batman."
Damian looked up from his katana and shot Oliver a look of pure disdain. "I have no need for advice from a man whose combat skills pale in comparison to his total lack of social discernment. It is insolent audacity for you to speak of Batman, considering you have already willingly submitted to his whims."
Oliver frowned, his spoon halting halfway to his mouth. "Me? Submit to Batman? Kid, I don't follow Batman's orders."
"I was not referring to combat orders, Arrow," Damian sneered, standing up with deadly elegance. "I am speaking of the fact that you shared a bed with him. Frankly, Batman used to have higher standards."
Oliver sat there, paralyzed. Why did so many people think he had slept with Batman?
"I didn't sleep with Batman," he sighs, thoroughly exhausted.
The Fourth Time: Green Arrow
The fourth time, he finds out for himself that he did, in fact, sleep with Batman.
Batman had been struck by a hex, and Zatanna was currently analyzing how to break it.
"It’s an anti-secrecy spell," she sighs. "You have to reveal a major secret. It doesn't have to be to everyone, but it has to be to someone, or you'll be trapped speaking nothing but the absolute truth."
Batman narrows his eyes. "Do I need to verbalize it, or does an action that reveals a secret count?"
"It’s uncertain, but spells of this nature are complex. I believe as long as the criteria for a conscious revelation of the secret is met, it will dissipate," Zatanna informs him, sounding a bit unsure.
Batman seems to think it over for a few minutes.
"I hope you know that no matter what secret you reveal or to whom, we will guard it as our own if you wish," Diana reassures him, though the man looks as unbothered as ever.
"I think we'd all drop dead if we found out a genuine Batman secret," Hal jokes, and Oliver nods in agreement.
No one in their right mind would willingly expose a secret of Batman’s.
The silence in the room is broken by a sigh. Batman stands up and walks to the opposite side of the room. Everyone assumes he is heading toward Clark, or maybe Canary, but he stops right in front of Oliver. He tilts his head slightly, looking as if he’s already regretting what he's about to do.
"Wh—"
Before anyone can ask a single question, Batman—the most feared hero among heroes—kisses Green Arrow.
Batman is kissing him. And worse, Oliver is enjoying it.
It isn't desperate, or rushed; it feels like something more… familiar.
A hand gently brushes the back of his neck, tracing the tips of his fingers from his nape down to his throat, sending a shiver right down the blonde's spine.
That exact motion makes something click in Oliver's brain, his eyes widening in sudden, shocking realization.
He pulls away from the dark knight.
"No fucking way!" Oliver yells.
What a bastard. There was only one person who made that specific movement so casually.
Bruce Wayne.
"You! For almost two decades! I'm your best friend!" To say he was angry was an understatement; he was bright red from both embarrassment and sheer rage.
Suddenly, his brain finally puts the pieces together, and everything makes perfect
sense.
"I slept with you," he states. "I slept with Batman."