Chapter 5 “Holy Gay Boy Wonder!”

It is about 8AM. “Vince… wake him… Dick Grayson is leaving,” alerts Shawn with a nudge. Vince and Shawn are parked in a white Escalade backed into a parking space across the parking lot from Room 10 at the Shooting Star Motel. Vince wakes and rubs his eyes as Shawn sips his coffee and watches a tall young man exit the motel room and swagger towards a yellow Honda CBR600 backed up to the room’s door.

“Dick Grayson’s sexual orientation is the weak link… the chink in Batman’s armor,” says Shawn as he takes another sip of his coffee. “Dickey boy is the key to bringing down the big Kahuna – Batman! Capture young Dick, and we get Batman!”

“Who would have thought the Boy Wonder was a tail gunner,” replies Vince sleepily. “With his good looks and that body, chicks would stand in line to suck his cock. Why isn’t he casing down babes instead of plugging guys? I wonder if Batman trained the boy up”

“Let’s not be judgmental, Vince,” replies Shawn. “Don’t forget we’re paid indirectly by a fat old pervert living on the island of San Miguel! Besides our investigation over the last few weeks indicates Bruce Wayne is straight…and unaware of young Dick’s escapades with young men. See Vince…you never really know what kids are up to when they leave the house. Remember that if you ever have children of your own.”

The strapping boy is wearing a zipped-up black leather jacket, blue jeans, black boots and he has a black canvas knapsack strapped on his back. He pulls the dark helmet with full tinted visor he carries over his head as he reaches the sleek motorcycle. He fastens the chin strap and then fishes in his tight jeans for a set of a keys. Dick produces a set of keys, swings his leg over the seat and mounts the bike. The bike roars to life and he withdraws the kick stand. Seconds later the powerful bike lurches from the parking space raising the front wheel slightly. The boy speeds down the road between the banks of motel rooms. The brake light comes on momentarily as the boy checks traffic and then turns right onto County Route 15 and speeds away.

“Come on… let’s go,” says Shawn as places his coffee cup in the SUV’s cup holder. “And let me do the talking! Keep your comments to yourself.” Shawn grabs a metal briefcase as both men exit the Escalade. The doors slam loudly in succession and the men begin to walk towards Room 10.

Both men are in their early thirties. Shawn is the taller of the two men with a medium build. He has short blond hair – green eyes, Irish good looks. Vince has dark hair cropped short –dark eyes – the descendant of ancestor’s who originated in Southern Europe. Vince has a larger build than Shawn. Shawn is the diplomat of the pair…Vince is the muscle. Both men are dressed casually in Dockers, boat shoes and light jackets. The two have worked for the hunter for many years traveling the world in his service. They are the gophers; they run down leads, investigate people, and make initial contact, and offers to persons of interest. In this case, Ryan Blake.

Shawn puts on his most disarming smile and knocks lightly on the door of Room 10 as Vince stands behind him expressionless. The door is opened by a young man in his very early twenties with the height and a build almost identical to Dick’s. He is a good-looking young man with a fair complexion, wavy short blond hair that is still damp from the shower and blue eyes. He is bare foot and wears only a pair of blue jeans – the white elastic band of his red underpants is exposed above the jeans. The young man is impressive with a great looking upper body – well-developed biceps and pectorals complimented by six pack abs.

“Can I help you?” asks the tall young man as he eyes the two men at the door. Vince sighs as he looks at the good-looking young man in the doorway and mutters, “Another waste of manhood.”

Shawn ignores him. “Mr. Ryan Blake?” asks Shawn.

“Yes…” replies the young man hesitantly. “Why?”

“Good morning. My name is Shawn, and this is Vince.” Vince remains expressionless and does not nod. “We represent Bruce Wayne of Wayne Enterprises,” fibs Shawn proficiently, as he hands the young man a bogus business card.

“Wayne Enterprises?” asks the young man as he reads the card. “You’re private investigators?”

“We are indeed.  May we come in?” asks Shawn politely.

“The room is kind of a mess…. I was just leaving,” explains Ryan.

“You should see my place,” offers Shawn.

He looks at the card again and says, “Sure… come on in,” invites Ryan.

The men enter the large room. It has a rustic décor… paneled walls, tweed carpeting, brick fireplace, with a bathroom off the back. The spacious room has the usual amenities: TV with DVD player, microwave, refrigerator, etc. There are two double beds – only one bed appears to have been used – the other is made. There is one large window with drawn curtains that faces the parking lot. In front of the window is a good-sized table with four matching chairs. The table is covered with the remnants of Chinese take-out containers, plates, plastic utensils, and a laptop computer.

Ryan opens the curtains and clears the table of the empty containers and paper plates into a trash receptacle as Shawn and Vince look around the room.

When the table is cleared Ryan offers the men a chair. Shawn takes a seat whilst Vince remains expressionless, standing awkwardly in the open door staring at the one unmade bed. “Why don’t you wait for me outside, Vince? I’ll be out straight away.” Vince says nothing as he exits the room and pulls the door shut behind him.

After the door shuts Shawn apologizes, “Excuse my friend… he’s old school.”

“I’m used to it,” dismisses Ryan as he grabs a blue short sleeved t-shirt lying on the made bed and pulls it over his head. “I’m gay. I don’t pretend I’m not.”

Shawn nods approval at the young man’s openness and starts his pitch to the young man, “Well… I’ll come straight to the point,” as he places the brief case on the table and opens it.

Ryan joins Shawn and sits down at the table.  “We’re here about your friend that just left on the bike,” explains Shawn.

“Dick Smith?” asks Ryan.

Shawn smiles as he opens his briefcase. “Actually his name is Dick Grayson,” corrects Shawn as he slides several society newspaper pictures and articles of Dick towards Ryan. “Dick is the legal ward of billionaire Bruce Wayne… at least until he is 21.”

“Well, I’ll be dipped…” exclaims Ryan as he views the photos of Dick. “He lied about his name!”

“Dick and Mr. Wayne had a… falling out a few months ago. He left home and will not return Mr. Wayne’s calls. We were hired to bring young Dick home,” fibs Shawn.

“Was it because he’s gay?” asks Ryan as he reads one the articles.

“No. Mr. Wayne has no problem with Dick’s lifestyle. Dick is discreet, as you can probably attest to,” explains Shawn as he looks around the motel room off the beaten trail miles from Gotham City. “He always uses an assumed name… but Smith… I mean really! Dick parades a girl around for show at society events. Mr. Wayne and Dick parted ways on the career he has decided to pursue.”

“How so,” asks Ryan as he pushes back the newspaper article?

Mr. Wayne wants Dick to pursue a business degree…follow in his footsteps eventually taking the helm of Wayne Enterprises… while Dick prefers criminal law,” explains Shawn as he shifts in the wooden chair. He gazes at Vince leaning against the SUV outside with his hands dug deep in his jacket pockets.

“What does all this have to with me?” asks Ryan

“We need your help, Ryan. The repatriation between Dick and Mr. Wayne must be done quietly to avoid unwanted publicity. Mr. Wayne is a pillar of the community and he does not want his dirty laundry aired in public. Mr. Wayne only wants time to state his case to Dick in private…which Dick has to this point refused to allow.”

“I can’t betray Dick. So he lied about his name,” laughs Ryan. “So he doesn’t want me to know he’s a billionaire’s ward.”

Shawn sighs, “I apologize in advance Ryan for the revelation… but you’re just a bump in the road. Here are copies of Dick’s credit card statements you can peruse. You look like a smart young man. You will find a pattern of motel charges that last about approximately four months and then a new pattern elsewhere begins. How long have you and Dick been… together?

“Just over three months,” discloses Ryan as he reads the credit card statements with a growing frown.

“Less than a month left, before Dick kicks you to curb for a new… partner. Face it, Ryan. I mean no disrespect, but it appears Dick likes to slum around,” says Shawn cautiously.

“That bitch!” exclaims Ryan as he shoves the statements back across the table. “You know… I never thought our arrangement was permanent or our relationship would go anywhere! Dick is so fucking arrogant and secretive… that locked black canvas knapsack he just about sleeps with. And we never go out anywhere; we stay here and eat take out, watch movies, and… well, you know. In the morning, he takes off on his crotch rocket. But I thought Dick would have the decency to be straight with me, and not just disappear one day on me just to take up with another piece of ass.”

Shawn nods sympathetically. He has pushed the right buttons.

“I thought maybe he was a young kid married with a baby… in the closet. Who knows, I don’t pry. Don’t get me wrong… the sex is great. Dick has a great body and he knows all the moves. But when it comes to sex, he likes to be… in charge… totally control everything—you know, all the fucking time. What a conceited prick he is, now that I think about it! Like he’s God’s gift to me, and I should be thankful that he rides up here twice a week on his bike. I always meet him here in this rented motel room – we’re usually the only ones staying way the fuck out here. He brings me take-out dinner, we watch TV and then he fucks. And, sometimes if I am lucky, the prince will spend the entire night!” blurts out Ryan excitedly.

Shawn clears his throat at the man’s candor in the description of their relationship. “Mr. Wayne is prepared to compensate you for your assistance in this matter, Ryan.” Shawn takes two stacks of 50 dollar bills from the briefcase and puts them on the table. “50 thousand dollars; and another 50 when you—when we—quietly, I emphasize “quietly,” take possession of Dick Grayson.”

Ryan’s eyes grow wide as he looks at the money. “You want me to… kidnap Dick? Drug… whatever—for Mr. Wayne?” 

“It is not kidnapping, Ryan! Dick is Mr. Wayne’s’ legal ward – he could ask the police to pick him up. My friend outside and I could do it easily enough.  However, Mr. Wayne insists that it be done quietly… and he’s willing to pay.”

“And how do I do that?” asks Ryan.

“You look like a smart guy. You’ll figure out a way. Here’s another 1,500 dollars for expenses,” offers Shawn as he takes a gold money clip folded with 100 dollars bills from the briefcase and tosses it next to the two stacks of 50’s. “Buy whatever you need to make this happen. When is your next tryst?”

“A few days from now… Thursday, my 21^st birthday,” answers Ryan as he picks up the money clip and examines it.

“Well, Happy Birthday, Ryan. Do we have a deal?” asks Shawn hopefully.

“What about Dick… he’ll be pissed. He’ll look me up one day…” replies Ryan as he returns the gold clip to the table.

“If I may, how did you meet Dick?” asks Shawn.

“I answered a personal add in the Gotham New Times. We met at a mall, and we just clicked,” shrugs Shawn.

“Does he know where you live or work?” presses Shawn.

“No… come to think about it, Dick was never that much interested in my personal life. Fucking me was his main interest. We always meet here – Room 10. It’s an end room and the room next door is used for storage. Dick likes privacy. He rents it by the month. Actually…” Ryan’s face turns red.

“What,” asks Shawn?

“…. I gave Dick a false name, too. Dick thinks my name is Ryan Welling. Well…we never exchanged driver’s licenses before we hit the sack,” explains Ryan sheepishly.

There is silence, and then both men burst out laughing. After the moment passes, Shawn presses and asks again, “Do we have a deal?”

Ryan looks at the money and evidence of deceit spread out before him on the table. “Yes, we have a deal!” Shawn extends his hand across the table; the men shake on the deal they just struck. “We’ll be back here at Thursday at midnight.”

Shawn quickly gathers up the photos and statements and returns them to his briefcase, but leaves the money. He closes the case and latches it. Shawn smiles as he reminds Ryan, “Midnight, next Thursday. Have your boyfriend ready. My number is on the card if you need me. Good luck!” Shawn rises from the chair and exits the motel room.

“Thursday, Midnight!” echoes Ryan. After the door shuts Ryan pockets the clip with 1,500 dollars into his jean pocket and then stuffs the 50K and the business card in his green canvas overnight bag on the bed. He then clears his head trying to digest all that has just suddenly happened. Ryan paces the floor as he searches for a way to capture – kidnap – whatever, Dick. Kick me to the curb?! No, how about me, first!! His mind races: Rohypnol? Where would I get a rophy? Anyway he might have a bad reaction to the stuff! Think…think! I’d have to immobilize Dick – tie him up. Why would Dick let me tie him up? Moments later an idea begins to form in his mind.

He takes a seat at the table and opens his laptop. He surfs the web until he finds a site that sells the products he is interested in: Mr. S Leather. Ryan grins as surfs the site and adds items to his cart. He orders the items for express delivery. That done, he surfs for books pertaining to gay male bondage. He finds what he is looking for and orders a book titled, Gay Bondage and Discipline for the Beginner – for express delivery as well!

Chapter 6 “Nightwing”

It is Thursday morning, Ryan’s birthday. The chapter opens with Robin in Police Commissioner Gordon’s City Hall office, supervising the morning presentation of a citation to Robin for his capture of an elusive gang of ATM thieves. The commissioner smiles as Police Chief O’Hara presents young Robin with a framed citation with one hand, and then shakes the green gloved hand of Robin. There is a sprinkling of applause from the few city and police officials in attendance accompanied by the click and flash of the newspaper reporter’s cameras. After the presentation everyone exchanges handshakes and offers congratulations to Robin, who does not seem very enthusiastic. Gradually, the din of overlapping conversations fades away. The officials and reporters filter out of the commissioner’s office, and go back about their daily routines, leaving only the commissioner, the police chief, and Robin alone.

“Well, another criminal capture under your utility belt,” jokes Chief O’Hara as he slaps Dick on the back of his black cape. Robin rolls his eyes at the pun… and irritated that the big Irish oaf actually laid a hand on him. 

“Yeah, it’s a great looking piece of paper,” replies Robin sarcastically.

“Well, you earned it – enjoy,” chirps Commissioner Gordon, oblivious to Robin’s sarcasm. “Batman has never accepted a monetary reward – he donates his reward monies to charity. It’s great that you continue in his fine tradition! This 20,000 dollar reward money was donated to the Salvation Army!”

Dick clenches the frame of the award tight in his large green gloved hand, and calmly seethes with anger. But maintains control. 20 Grand! Does anyone see Batman around here? Did he help me capture the crooks? Did I ever say “Give MY cash reward to charity?” The fucking answer to all the questions is NO! It’s easy for Bruce to give the money to charity… he has tons of cash! But you wouldn’t think that, by the pittance of the allowance he gives me! You sure can’t make a living as a crime fighter in this town, when you’re associated with Batman!

“I’ll be sure to display this award in a very special place, commissioner,” promises Dick in an masked, insolent tone.

With a flash of black from his cape, Robin whirls and departs the office. “There goes a good lad, chirps Chief O’Hara obtusely.” “Yes, a good lad,” parrots the commissioner!

Dick is greeted by the floor’s occupants as he makes his way to elevator that will take him to the parking garage and the Bat Cycle. Robin feigns a friendly smile and waves unenthusiastically. Dick’s black cape with yellow underside flutters behind him as people move aside, then stop and stare in awe as the indeed, powerfully built young Robin, “the Boy Wonder,” struts by them. The leather and rubber of his costume crackles softly and his bootsteps are loud on the marble floor; Robin coolly swaggers to the awaiting open doors of the commissioner’s private elevator car. A group of on-lookers forms and trails behind the masked boy, pointing at him and talking excitedly. Two uniformed guards with white shirts and gold badges stand on either side of the elevator door and allow no one else but Robin to enter the car, and past the group of people who have congregated, to get a glimpse of Robin!

Get a life… Get a life! thinks Dick, as the elevator doors close and he extends his middle finger!

Alone, Robin sighs loudly and fumes about the reward money he expected to get today. It was the only reason he came to the ceremony! He rides the express car down to the private parking lot just below street level. The elevator doors open and he steps into the small parking area followed by his billowing cape. He is alone there – only the privately owned vehicles of the commissioner, police chief and other senior staff are parked there. Robin’s bootsteps echo loudly from the concrete pillars of the garage, his cape fluttering behind, as he strides towards the Bat Cycle parked across the lot. As Dick passes by a large trash receptacle, he casually tosses the framed award towards it. He does not look back as the framed award hits the interior of the large metal trash container, shatters the glass, and clatters noisily to the bottom of the receptacle. 

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Many hours later the Bat Cycle speeds along a single lane private road on the vast estate of Wayne Manner. Robin’s black cape, with a yellow underside, buffets wildly in the wind behind the bike as Robin leans forward behind the bike’s small windscreen. As the sun sets, the powerful bike roars down the road raising a wake of dried leaves for several minutes, before it slows and veers off onto a service road. The bike picks up speed again and approaches the catacombs under the sprawling mansion known as Wayne Manor. The bike and rider approach the rocky embankment below the mansion, and heads directly towards a visible rising wall of stone. A crash seems imminent—but the sleek black bike and its caped rider flash through the stone hologram. Behind the hologram, the bike continues to speed along a wide catacomb passageway brightly lit with overhead lights for an eighth mile, until the passage opens into a vast expanse – the Bat Cave. Batman’s command center!

From the Batcave, Batman monitors all crisis points in Gotham City and beyond. The cave’s centerpiece is a supercomputer whose specs are on par with any of those used by leading national security agencies. The computer permits global surveillance, and also connects to a massive information network as well as stores of vast amounts of information… both on Batman’s foes and his allies. A series of satellite link-ups allows easy access to Batman’s information network anywhere in the globe.  Additionally, the cave contains state of the art facilities such as a crime lab, a specialized laboratory, a mechanized workshop, personal gym, a vast library, as well as parking and hangar space for his various vehicles—as well as separate exits for each type. The trophies of past criminal cases are on display along the cave walls leading to the elevator shaft, which rises to the mansion above. The Batcave also has a small medical facility as well as various areas used in training exercises for Batman and Robin. The enormous cave houses Batman’s vast array of specialized vehicles, foremost being the famous Batmobile. Other vehicles within the complex include various motorcycles, such as the one Dick rides this evening, and various air and watercraft such as The Bat Wing. The cave is powered by a hydro-electric generator made possible by an underground river which also serves as a docking point for the Bat Boat.

The bike decelerates quickly and stops. The caped rider continues to straddle the big bike and rev the engine as he walks the cycle back into its designated parking space next to several other bikes. Robin cuts the engine and puts the kick stand down. Dick swings his powerful leg over the bike followed by his black cape. He peers around the Batcave and notices the Batmobile is gone.

Batman is out… probably took Superman’s costume to the FBI lab at the state capitol for more analysis – looking for any clue to Superman’s disappearance. That’s all Batman does now is search for Superman. I have to pick up the slack… extra patrols… more hours! Superman, good riddance! He was stealing the spotlight all the fucking time! I mean how can one compete with Batman and Superman? Guys like Spiderman and me are now back in the limelight, since somebody took down Big Blue! thinks Dick selfishly. Superman relied too much on his innate alien strength, and other-worldly superpowers—he did NOT use the old noggin, fumes Dick as he jabs his gloved finger into the side of his head lightly several times. I’ll never be lured into a trap—I’d spot a trap miles away! Super–stupid is what he must have been, if he was truly, finally downed!

Yes, indeed, Robin is an excellent crime fighter. But as we can see, he does have a glaring character flaw: he is simply…haughty. Dick has resisted Bruce’s attempts with zeal to instill modesty to his list of character traits – but has failed. Alfred Pennyworth calls Dick “cheeky.” In recent weeks, with the disappearance of Superman, Bruce has finally resigned himself to let Dick grow out of his arrogance naturally. Maturity should do it; but that could take years.

Character flaw aside, nonetheless Dick Grayson is a very handsome boy… and he knows it! Dick is a tall strapping boy with well-developed and perfectly proportioned muscles… and he likes to flaunt his muscular built. He is two months shy of being 20 years of age. Dick prefers to wear his light brown cropped short – military style – high and tight. His eyes are blue and his voice is clear. All said, Dick or Robin, if you will, is a striking young man.

And Robin’s costume is as pretentious as he is! It consists of a dark green, rubberized bodysuit, along with a dark red armored tunic that encases his crotch. A gold and silver lettered “R” monogram is attached to the upper left side of his tunic. A dull gold utility is buckled tightly around his waist, and dark green gloves with three scallops apiece cover his arms to his elbows. A modest jet-black mask covers his eyes… and spiffy black boots and a short black cape, with a dull yellow underside, completes the crime fighter’s costume.

Dick quickly leaves the parking area of the Batcave and walks towards the elevator to the sprawling mansion above, unbuckling his utility belt. Dick unmasks and sets both items near a black canvas knapsack sitting near the elevator. Dick unfastens his cape, folds it neatly, and lays it atop the knapsack to be packed away later.

Dick swaggers unmasked towards the center of the Batman’s lair. He stops at a type of draftsman’s desk, adorned with sketches of a costume. On top of the sketches is the evening paper Alfred has left for Dick to peruse. He looks at the headline: BATMAN’S SIDEKICK HONORED. Sidekick… more like his lackey, thinks Dick as he turns the paper over disgustedly.

“Soon…very soon I will emerge from Batman’s shadow, and strike out on my own,” swears Dick. He turns his attention to the sketches he has drawn. The sketches are renderings of a new costume that he will wear when he turns 21, and is finally emancipated. “Nightwing”… I will soon be known as Nightwing—screw Robin and the Boy Wonder crap!” exclaims Dick aloud. The sketch of the costume is predominantly black and mimics several elements of Batman’s own uniform, including a black utility belt with an insignia consisting of an encircled “N” surrounded by two bat wings on the belt’s buckle. However the sketch has no cape. “I want everybody to see my backside and drool,” says Dick out loud, as he pulls his green scalloped gloves off one by one and he continues to study the sketches. The black rubber bodysuit in the sketch is skin tight and has a molded rubber chest piece. There is a wide blue jagged stripe that runs down the outside of each arm over the shoulders and joins into a V in the center of the chest. The sketch depicts black boots, elbow length black gloves, and a face mask very similar to his Robin’s.

Robin cracks the pair of green leather gloves into the palm of his big hand as he struts away from the sketches of Nightwing towards one of many consoles in the Batcave. He takes a seat behind one console and checks the time – nearly 8 PM.

I told Ryan I would meet him at 8. Oh well, let him wait… it’s not like he hasn’t had to wait for me before. Besides, he’ll be history in a couple weeks! It is nearly time to move onto a new boy! And… he’ll appreciate my company much more tonight if he’s made to wait, before I finally grace him with my presence! Robin feigns a duty-bound sigh. Yet it probably is time for me to leave Mount Olympus, and pay a quick visit to the mortal! Like Zeus, I will take human form and partake of the joys of Ryan’s great body! (Almost, but near as fine as mine….) Shit, that reminds me… it’s Ryan’s Birthday. One would think it’s a national holiday, the way he carried on about it! I don’t understand it. What more could the “peasant” desire on his birthday, than an evening spent alone with someone like me? – If he only had a clue who I really was….

To be continued…