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burgers, he instead stood up, tinked on the side of his pint glass with his fork, and proudly announced that he and Steff were hosting the first annual Batstravaganza.

“The original plan,” he explained, “was to do Begins, Returns, and Rises, but then we realised that a) we picked up all four 1990s movies for less than a tenner back when HMV closed down, and b) they’ve done a version of the Adam West movie with Christopher Nolan–style packaging. So we’re going to do all eight Batman films in chronological order this weekend.”

“Why?” asked Andy.

“Because he’s the Batman,” replied Tinuviel in a surprisingly effective Christian Bale impersonation.

Sanee glanced round the table. “So who’s with us?”

“Okay.” Andy shrugged.

“And my axe.” That was Tinuviel.

“Fair warning.” Steff looked up from her chips. “At least a quarter of these films will be terrible, but we will have a lot of beer.”

“And bring sleeping bags,” added Sanee. “Because this is some hard-core movie watching.”

Steff waved a sachet of ketchup solemnly. “And honestly, as a medical professional, I recommend being unconscious through Batman & Robin.”

“Um.” Given Sanee’s comments yesterday and his conversation with Kit, Drew decided to go for it. He put up his hand. “Can I bring my boyfriend, please?”

“Oh.” Tinuviel put her hand up as well. “Can I bring my current romantic partner and/or my current sexual partner?”

Andy squinted across the table. “Are they different people?”

She squinted back. “Is that a real question?”

“Apparently not.” Andy gave up gracefully.

“Bring who you like,” said Sanee expansively. “We’ve got plenty of crisps and the nice thing about movies is there’s no maximum number of players.”

Drew honestly wasn’t sure it would be Kit’s thing, but he seemed happy enough to be invited. So the next day they met for brunch in this tearoom he liked, detoured back to Drew’s room for . . . stuff, because they were getting pretty good at it, and then—only slightly late—legged it to Sanee and Steff’s.

Everyone else was already there, so the best beanbags were taken, but they found a corner, and Drew slightly awkwardly introduced Kit to his friends, stalling when he got to Tinuviel’s guests because he’d never met either of them before.

Tinuviel gestured left. “This is Tom.” Then right. “This is Melissa.”

Drew was about to ask which one was romantic and which one was sexual, but realised just in time there was no way it could sound good.

There was a slightly difficult silence.

“So,” said Sanee, “you’re Drew’s hot elf babe.”

“Dude.” Drew facepalmed.

Kit smiled shyly. “It’s the ears, isn’t it? They’re a dead giveaway.”

Steff disentangled herself from Sanee, and brought them a couple of beers. “Please forgive this tactless arse I’m somehow engaged to. He was trying very hard not to open with, ‘So you’re a gay, then.’”

“I was not,” Sanee protested.

“The important thing—” Steff scrambled back onto the sofa, and patted his arm “—is that you believe that.”

Now that first contact had been established, everyone could settle down, and Batstravaganaza could officially begin.

Sanee whacked a DVD into the PS4. “Ladies and gentleman, I present Adam West and Burt Ward in their 1966 triumph, Batman: The Movie. Because it was from the days when you had to say something was a movie in the title, otherwise people would get confused.”

As usual, they didn’t spend that much time actually watching the entity that identified itself as a movie. Mainly they drank and ate and did commentary. While Bruce and Dick were biffing, powing, and socking their way through the criminal underworld, Drew and Kit lost their self-consciousness about being a couple in public and naturally folded together.

Kit was quiet, but he seemed to be enjoying himself, and Drew was glad he was there.

A hundred and five minutes later, the credits rolled to raucous applause and a shower of popcorn.

“So,” Sanee asked, when the noise had died down, “Bats out of ten. I think I’ll give it a seven because it wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t really what I want from a Batman movie.”

Drew lifted his head out of Kit’s lap. “Oh come on, man. The nobility of the almost-human porpoise. That’s worth at least an eight on its own.”

“That’s worth minus eight on its own.”

“Well, actually,” interrupted Tinuviel before they could get into a fight, “I think one of Batman’s great strengths is the way he can encompass many identities, and reflect many worlds. The Batman who leaves Ra’s al Ghul to die in an exploding monorail—”

“Oi,” yelled Andy, “spoilers.”

“—loses his impact if he is not set against the Batman who refuses