Robin one shot part 3!

Because I'm a fucking icon

"Gotcha to smile didn't I?"

"That's Dick's job, wise guy," he responded. He took a sip of water and looked around the room. Everyone was way too stuffy. Most were old money and looked down on new money. Some were new money who looked down on old money. It seemed like no one was happy to go to these events judging by their sour expressions when they walked past one another. These events seemed rather pointless but it was at these galas that the most important business alliances were made. It was during his glance around the room that he saw the familiar face of his brother and the sea of unhappy faces on all those who'd accidentally looked his way. 

Dick was wearing high heels, probably around nine inches. They were black and had the iconic red bottom that Christian Louboutin's had. Tim instantly recognized them as the ones Bruce bought him for his birthday. His shoes went well with his black trousers and waistcoat. His tie was a Nightwing blue. Tim noticed he was wearing makeup too as his lipstick matched the colour of his tie and his hair was somehow feminine. The younger waved at him, catching his attention, and was met with a bright smile. 

"Look at you all dressed up," Tim commented when the older got closer. 

"I've not been out for a while, I thought I'd make a big occasion out of it since I got better at makeup," Dick replied. He took some champagne off the table and took a sip. God knows his bold choice of appearance was going to make this a long night. 

"Brown did say you have the bone structure that would support typically feminine apparel," Damian commented, nibbling on the small sandwich he'd chosen. 

"I'm guessing that's a compliment?"

"Indeed. Though I doubt you'll have any more this evening," he added.

"I don't expect any. Where's B?" 

"Talking to some Lady," Tim replied. "How long are you staying tonight?"

"The mandated time. I'm thinking of grabbing some Chinese food after this then I'm going out. You guys fancy joining?" They shrugged, complacent with spending their night in Bludhaven. Crime was kind of quiet this time of year so they were just going for a change of scenery. He smirked at them, hoping he had enough money for all of them to join. 

During the night, the group dispersed to cause some small chaos here and there. It ranged from telling random people a little too much about a kidnapping ordeal or saying Bruce's company might be working on a new super disease that if let out of containment might destroy the world. Dick grabbed his second glass of champagne which would likely be his last. He didn't like to be drunk at public events. As he did, a man came up to him. Steve Harrington. He was an heir to a rather large lump sum of money and a well-known dickhead. 

"Hello Richard," he greeted. Dick smirked venomously at him. Sure he was a dickhead but one night after a gala he may have ended up in his apartment. What could he say? He was in need of a different release. 

"Hey Steve," he replied. 

"I see you've dressed like a slag," Steve said as he reached over for some champagne. He wore a smug smile like he'd said something witty. In reality, his comment made a shallow dig at Dick's ego. He'd had a lot worse from more important people.