The Opening Move [Dick Grayson]

The man that entered the Lounge was not, by normal standards, what one would call a normal man; though in a place like Gotham, overshadowed by the larger and more illustrious Wayne Enterprise and even the poster boy -- Mister Bruce Wayne himself.

It's alright to Thomas Elliot for now -- unknown and in the shadow has got a kinky vibe to itself.

There was a coldness to him that radiated from his looks -- dashing, perhaps overly so, his hair sleeked back in a manner in which not many could pull off without looking entirely stupid. His coat that he wore was a dark blue adorned with silver cuff-links, the undershirt ruffled at the breast and of a dark mauve. Pants were of the same make as his velvet jacket coat, slim-fitting and shoes were long, pointed, and of the finest leather so that it was comfortable even if it was hard leather.

There were people who found him fascinating -- how could they not? Having return to Gotham just slightly less than a month ago, he had slowly broken into the high socialite's circle -- and already there were people drawing the annoyance comparison between Bruce and him -- both inheriting their parents' vast fortune, the talented, young entrepreneur, single and up for grabs. How annoying and myopic.

In his slender fingers, he held the thin flute of the martini glass. With his free hand he lifted the olives with the silver pick and placed one into his mouth. There was something beyond that physical perfection that disturbed people -- that his eyes seemed always small and dark, wound so tightly that no light could ever pass through. It didn't help that people seem to lose their voices around him, unable to react beyond the sexual tension that he seem to create with anyone and everyone at the same time.

Then there are others who claim that his undivided attention for a mere five minutes was enough to leave one yearning for more -- almost like a insatiable hunger of a carnal nature.

Music pulsing in wild staccato rhythm reverberating through the walls, the floors, the bodies gyrating around Richard’s body, pounding through his blood making the dancer’s body stirred, then started to sway with the rhythm. He didn’t know how long he had to be there, waiting. He so hated charity events. Especially, those one that Bruce organized. They were simply so fake. However, the show must go on. Dick decided to kill some time by doing some stunts. He twirled a bottle of corona. He knocked the neck one way, caught it just before it tilt over, then steadied it and started to shuffle some glasses in a circle. It was a maneuver that might make a different kind of guy nervous but after working out and training so intensely as Dick did. In a situation like this, he knew exactly how far to trust his own reflexes. Besides, it's not like the bottle cost him a dime. The old wood of the chair creaked as Dick leaned forward, literally at the edge of his seat, swinging his legs; the heels of his shoes were making a thump sound every time they bumped the piece of furniture. He leaned back in his chair, tilting his head to the side. Hopefully things would get better.

“Nice Robin costume! It looks so real” A girl that was walking buy said when she passed next to Dick. Quite suddenly the blonde’s eyes found his table and in a gesture that can be described in no other way but suave Dick lifted his beer in a toast, produced his best sexy I-want-you-in-my-bed-yesterday smile and took a sip of beer. Without hesitation she began to make her way to the counter, smiling daringly.

“Well, you know. The man inside the suit it’s what it matters. baby” He said chuckling as he flexed his right arm so the girl could check out his muscles. “Let me invite you a beer and we can talk if you want to. Don’t take this wrong. It’s just that I came here all by myself and I’m getting a little bored” He casually added. Dick knew well that it was matter of time to get intimate, he just sat and talked and smiled and looked away when they talked about sensitive stuff and his throat git a little tight and then – when it got too raw and too deep – he fucked them against the wall. However, this time he was going to be good. It was just going to be a casual conversation. Helena didn't have to know about this.

“What if we have a beer?” Dick asked and turned his head slightly to the side, a little glance to the right in order to see her better. Now, it was more than possible to see him better under the dim light of the place.

“Just hold on. I’ll be right back” Dick spoke and then walked to the counter to grab a beer. “Two beers please” He said and waited for the bartender to give him what his drinks. Dick took a seat besides a man he had couple some days ago, Thomas Elliot, someone who didn't like Bruce. However, he decided to be polite and greet him. "Hi there, Sir!" Dick said waving his hand. "How you doing?"

Thomas Elliot was bored. He was twirling his glass and staring with a deadpan expression at the multitude of people that moved about; a rather princely scowl on his face. That was all on the outside -- inside his mind, the wheels of probability spun, turned, he analyzed everybodies' actions, subsequent reactions, notice the way people laugh, the way their neck strains as they seem to be talking about something exciting.

Still, these actions come automatically to him, almost instinctive, and hardly required any conscious effort. The man that organized the event himself hadn't even arrived himself, and Thomas was looking forward to seeing him again... after all these time. The anticipation trickled away as the minutes went by, leaving only an empty, bitter boredom.

Canting his head with lazy grace at the sound of being addressed, Thomas had the expression of a dead fish; half expecting it to be another clinging sycophant that he simply wasn't in the mood to entertain tonight... until...

The scent of Richard Grayson's perfume assaulted his nose, sending a shiver of rapture down Thomas' spine. He always had been a connoisseur of smell -- the sweet scent of sweat along the neck of a man. The mixture of cigarettes and cologne. The natural aroma of a man.

For a brief moment, he wondered about the sweet musk of Richard's balls, and something exciting stirred inside him. The smile was poised, and his eyes were almost suggestive as they roved from head to toe of the outfit... perhaps lingering a little at the crotch area.

"Hello, Richard. Interesting... costume."

Suddenly he was pleased that he had decided to come.

“OK” Dick replied slowly, his discomfort was reflected in his tone of voice. There was something wrong. Real wrong. The man was practically eating him with the eyes and that made Dick feel real uncomfortable. Richard was used to be the object of the attention and lust of people before. However, he was too obvious. It was not that Dick was homophobic or something like that. It was not that Dick was homophobic, in fact, some good friends of him were gay. However, they knew he didn't swing that way. All of them were really respectful and knew not to cross the line. Maybe he should keep keep a prudent distant from the guy, he was giving him the creeps.

“It's just something I had in my closet” He replied affably and then made his best effort to smile despite the situation. There was a big moment of silence where Dick tried to organize his thoughts. On one hand he could simply turn around and get the hell out the place as fast as he could, however, that was not his style. But on the other hand, he thought a more direct approach would be more effective. The guy was as old as Bruce was! He should know better than that kind of attitude would definitely scare someone away. “BTW, I'm not the kind of guy you are looking for, dude” He commented affably and took his two beers. Finally, the goddamn bar tender came to save him. Now, he would be able to go away and not coming back. “Don't take it personal. I just don't swing that way” He commented and smiled. Hopefully, this would fix the problem.

“Well, a girl is waiting for me” He said pointing out at the girl that was with him. She was dressing as a sexy nurse. Her body was perfect…toned, yet shapely and feminine once it was revealed in its glory. It was the same womanly ideal that graced countless billboards and glossy magazines. Dick waved at her and indicated to wait a minute. He was practically done with the man. “Well, it was a pleasure to see you here” He said friendly and then stretched his hand for a handshake.

A party for charity. Timothy always wondered how this would rack up sufficient amount of money to go to a charity. Who exactly was taking the money? How did you get the money to them? If had known, he would have wished he had his own to give, instead of using Bruce's or Richard's. But that wasn't the case. Ever since he was adopted as the new ward of Wayne, he was taken to events such as this, and it wasn't until now that he actually wondered what a party was for. Why not a meeting... It sure as hell would have proved more appropriate than this...party...that was actually a party. The loud music, the...gyrating party guests.

Pigs... He wondered how Bruce could stand to be around all of these phony, fake bastards.

He sighed heavily, standing at the entrance. It was nice to come alone; people would always eye him whenever he arrived with the notorious Bruce Wayne. Guess this proved how fake they really were, only smiling and laughing in his face, but hardly noticed him when he was alone. His slid his hands into the pockets of his black dress pants. He donned a double notch Fumagalli tuxedo, with matching suede Ralph Lauren dress shoes, which, of course, hurt Tim's feet like hell.

Biting at the corner of his top lip, Tim begun to contemplate to walk home. How could he possibly enjoy himself at such a sophisticated party with mid-thirty, horny drunks. However, he decided that he would look for Richard before he contacted Alfred, or just walked home himself. Finally, Tim inched his way away from the entrance, his eyes studying everyone around, though, never staring directly. He heard girls...women...giggling and took that as a sure sign of his brother's presence, there were three of them grouped together. Tim looked in the same direction as they did and his mouth might as well have dropped to the floor. Leave it to Richard Grayson to wear an ill-fitting Robin costume! If they were the case...well...Tim would have wore a Blue Beetle II costume. What a jackass.

Tim moved toward the over-sized kid, reluctantly. "Uh...nice costume, Dick," he commented sarcastically, making a face as he pulled lightly at the short cape. If only he had a digital camera, this would make his day. And then he nearly forgot, his cellphone had a camera. "You should let me take a picture and record...you in that silly costume." He continued before glancing and doing a double-take to the man in front of Dick. "Oh, friend of yours?" Tim asked, looking back up to Richard.

Guilty pleasures seemed to be the commonest of all sins. Sweet-toothed women’s guilty indulgences in chocolate. Recovering Alcoholics guilty indulgences in booze they’ve hidden from their wives and covered their tracks with burnt receipts and peppermint gum. No one was free of sin. Hush was not fool enough for a second to think anyone was so saintly they’d never indulged themselves in something they really wanted, done something they knew they shouldn’t. Why? Because it felt so damn good doing it. Knowing it was wrong, you got that buzz, why did people do it again? Because they wanted, they needed, that same high again. Thomas never denied himself pleasure. Soon Grayson would find out that. “I think you misunderstood things, Richard” He said affably but deep inside his mind he imagined Dick, his limbs on the floor, his limbs ripped from his body, his throat torn open, guts ripped out, until the room was a mess of blood and bile and the growing stink of cooling blood.

Thomas was just about to start his next move when an unexpected guest arrive. For a moment he didn't know what to do when he was interrupted. However, he quickly recover. Politely, he got up from his seat and introduced himself to the younger boy. “I'm Thomas Elliot. It's a pleasure to meet you” He said smiling. His mannerisms and body language were impeccable. If he wanted to add those guys to his collection, he needed to change his strategy. Since he was a little child, Thomas had been an eager collector of objects of all sorts. The only common theme in the things he collected was a certain oddness, a peculiarity that piqued his interest- interestingly shaped driftwood, bent pieces of metal found on the sidewalk, bolts of fabric, the occasional piece of sharpen rusty metal. He had been always a curious child that had a natural curiosity to touch, explore and know as many things as he could.

Little by little, an immense need to add more treasures to his collection increased. And just like when he was a child, Thomas chose the best specimens to be his. Although he didn’t want them to have a feeling of being trapped. He needed to be able to control how they felt, how they thought. It was the natural order of things- to have someone watching out for you. He didn’t know if they ever had careful loving parents. However, they would never have someone who knew as much from them as any other person do.

“I came here to start working in Gotham's general hospital. I'm a neurosurgeon” He commented affably.