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Chapter 1 - And My Baby
Dick Grayson finally did it.
For years, he’s been saving up to buy an actual house in Bludhaven, not just renting cheap apartments infested with vermin and without hot water. The best part was he did it without Bruce’s help— though Wally was pretty sure a house doesn’t just sit idly on the market, without price changes or interest, for three years straight. The home was beautiful; a ground level and finished basement, three bedrooms and two bathrooms, and a giant yard. Wally spent all week helping Dick and the other Bats and Supers move him in, and now they were celebrating with a cookout. In all honesty, it was more a way for Dick to thank everyone without saying it than it was to celebrate him having a mortgage.
Wally didn’t really need a thanks, though. The gratitude came in the form of Wally getting to spend time with Dick outside of all the hero stuff. Eating cheap, greasy pizza, drinking beers (though Wally metabolized too quickly to get drunk), and dozing off on the couch together was all the motivation Wally needed. The best part was getting to listen to Dick’s laugh.
Not his deep chuckle that was reserved for villains, or his breathy laugh the League or Titans received, but his full-hearted, loud, belly-laugh. The one that made Wally grin like a moron and replay in his mind when he needed a bit of sunshine. The laugh that Wally vowed to bring out every chance he got.
Also the laugh that managed to make his toes curl and breath catch in his throat. But that was only Wally’s business. And it was a small price to pay for that laugh.
“Walls, where did we put the ice trays?” Dick asked, rummaging through cabinets.
“They should be in the cabinet above the fridge?” Wally said, hands in the ground beef to start making patties for burgers. Luckily, the bean burgers Damian and Jon ate came pre-made… Wally would’ve had no clue how to do that.
“They literally grew legs and ran away. I can’t find them anywhere! No one is going to want warm soda,” Dick mumbled. He took his phone out, likely typing a text to the group so someone could stop and pick up a bag of ice.
“I think they actually got away by b-icicle,” Wally shrugged, a grin pulling his lips up.
Dick shut the cabinet and barked out that laugh Wally was head-over-heels for. It had both of them laughing like maniacs in the kitchen, Dick leaning his head on Wally’s shoulder after their giggles died down.
“You’re so funny, Wally.”
Wally almost kissed Dick’s forehead. He’s weak to compliments, okay?! No other reason…
But, (un)luckily for him, the entirety of SuperBat decided to show up. Unannounced. Without knocking! Wally learned his lesson about doing that when he was staying at Barry and Hal’s place. He still has nightmares about watching Hal behind Barry and—
“You alright, man?” Roy asked, bumping his hip into Wally’s.
“Yep! Just, you know, making the patties. You guys grab buns?”
Jason set two shopping bags on the counter, then squeezed Roy’s ass, muttering a joke about yes, but these ones are mine under his breath. Wally and Dick both pretended to not notice, kind of mortified. Lian was luckily playing with Damian and Jon, making Robin rebraid her hair because he does perfect, intricate rows compared to Jason’s loose style.
“Hey, chum,” Bruce hummed, coming into the kitchen with Clark behind him.
“Hey, dad. Hey, pops,” Dick grinned, rushing to hug them both.
“I brought Ma’s apple pie,” Clark smiled, hoisting Dick up onto his hip with one hand like he was still a kid and holding the pie in the other.
“Oh, and I brought the ice,” Bruce said, setting the large bag on the counter where Dick had glasses set out. Dick slid from Clark’s arms to break up the ice.
Wally saw an opportunity. One to make Dick laugh, to ease the tension of having this many people in his space.
“Just-ice? Nothing else?” Wally asked, grinning.
Damian snorted where he was doing Lian’s hair, ignoring Jon’s confused look. Jason groaned and glared at Roy’s smirk. Tim and Kon both sighed deeply, taking the drinks they brought out of the shopping bags. Bruce looked like he wanted to throw his glass of ice at Wally, but Clark plucked it out of his hands with a chuckle.
And Dick… he took a second to understand, evaluating everyone’s facial expressions. Then, a grin broke out on his face, and he belted out that real, hearty, belly-laugh that Wally loved. He even wheezed a bit, leaning over and clutching his stomach. Wally grinned, counting that as a success in his book.
Chapter 2 - You Know That I Got You
Wally West was not a man of many weaknesses.
He was a Speedster, fastest man alive, even faster than Barry Allen. I mean, technically the difference was negligible since they both ran so quick, but Wally was nonetheless faster. He’s fought powerful and otherworldly villains, been trapped in the Speed Force, even saved the world a few times.
So, Wally was powerful. Very powerful.
But when Dick Grayson crossed his lithe, long arms over his chest, huffed a sigh, and pouted, Wally was absolutely done for. Literally putty in Dick’s hands. In fact, Nightwing could ask Wally to destroy the Earth and lay it at his feet, and Wally would do it.
Today was no different.
Nightwing usually took care of street-level threats himself, or with the help of the other Bats. Deathstroke the Terminator was back in Bludhaven on some sort of contract, so Dick has been pretty busy trying to stop him. Unfortunately, he got himself stabbed twice.
When Wally got to his apartment, little teddy bear, flowers, and soup from the diner Dick likes in his hands, Wally’s heart nearly dropped out of his chest. Nightwing was sitting up in bed, looking mostly fine with Red Hood and Batman at his bedside, arms crossed and pouting.
And Wally really was strong, okay?!
But those big, glossy blue eyes, and that plump, pink lip slightly jutting out in a pout, begging to be kissed away, made Wallace West weak. He would do anything to see Dick smile instead of pout. Even if it meant bringing in Deathstroke the Terminator himself.
“Hey, songbird. What’s with the pout?” Wally asked, arranging the flowers by Dick’s bedside. He also moved to the window while he was idling, drawing the curtains open. Wally swore he heard Jason and Bruce hiss, but that could just be his imagination.
“Slade. I hate him. He lured me right into a trap, and I was just so angry and wanted to get him so bad, I walked right into it!”
There was the huff. There was that pout.
“What’s the plan?” Wally asked, getting the takeout soup on a tray for Dick. Anything to keep him from looking at that pout, otherwise he’d break and try kissing it away next. And Wally really didn’t feel like Red Hood shooting him, or Batman beating him up.
“We are going to go offensive this time. No traps, rushing into Deathstroke’s path to hopefully catch him off guard. He seems to figure out our plans each time, but we never tried to rush him before,” Batman offered, ignoring Dick’s scoff.
“Yeah, we’re going to die with that shit plan,” Jason mumbled.
“Well… rush him, you say? I know someone who’s pretty quick. He’ll never see me coming.”
Jason snorted a laugh, but Bruce and Dick looked unconvinced.
“This isn’t your fight, Walls,” Dick sighed, leaning back and closing his eyes.
Wally didn’t push. He knew Nightwing would be out well before he was fully healed and tracking down Deathstroke again. Wally also knew he was going with him no matter what he said, or how much he pouted, because if things went south again, the Speedster was there. Sure, Slade was a Meta, but would he really be able to stop Wally?
… Probably. But that didn’t matter. What mattered was getting that pout off of Dick’s pretty lips.
Wally left at the end of the night after Dick had finished his soup and was dozing in bed. Red Robin came and sat with him, likely to make sure he actually stayed in bed and didn’t sneak out to fight. Instead of going back to his apartment, Wally quickly donned his suit and started his rounds around Bludhaven until he saw the other Bats or Deathstroke.
Lucky for him, there was some kind of Arkham break that kept Jason, Bruce, Damian, Tim, and even Clark and Jon busy. Honestly, Slade probably planned it, so he could get his job done without anyone bothering him. He was tactful like that. So annoyingly tactful. Wally finally spotted Deathstroke. The man was on a rooftop, sniper rifle propped up on the ledge toward a warehouse that was supposed to be abandoned. He did another sweep of the area, making sure there were no traps set or guards that might be on Deathstroke’s payroll.
Wally felt for the cuffs on his belt, swiped from the Batcave earlier today. In theory, they should restrain Deathstroke. If they didn’t… well, at least Wally would be remembered as a hero. He tugged the cowl on, and thought of a plan as he moved towards Deathstroke. Like always, when a Speedster was involved, everything happened so fast. Whether it be Lady Luck or actually a decent plan, Slade was blindsided. Wally had him cuffed and disarmed before Deathstroke could even blink.
“Nightwing go crying to you?” Deathstroke drawled, having the audacity to look calm.
Wally didn’t respond. Instead, he broke the eyepiece on Deathstroke’s helmet so he couldn’t see. Then, he pulled the phone Dick had given him for Nightwing business out and texted: Look out your window in one second.
Carefully holding Deathstroke’s neck and hands, Wally sped to Dick’s apartment. By the way Slade was swearing and threatening to tear Wally’s legs off, he knew the eyepiece was truly broken, blocking his vision. Wally glanced up and saw Dick in his window, hand over one of his wounds.
Nightwing grinned, peering down at Deathstroke and Flash from his window. Wally waved and smiled back, happy that Dick’s pout was gone. Except he didn’t realize he was just as weak for Dick’s smile that he was for his pout.
… Maybe it’s just his lips?
Chapter 3 - Not In A Hurry
Obviously, being an acrobat means Dick is incredibly lithe and flexible. He can do all sorts of flips, dips, bends, stretches, and more. Wally learned very quickly just how flexible Nightwing could be when they did weekly yoga sessions for the Titans. Watching Dick bend into ridiculous arches and curves had the attention of everyone in the room.
It drives Wally crazy.
Partly, he is jealous. Wally would love a bit of flexibility. Being able to do flips and tricks would be an incredible party trick, even better than phasing in and out of walls at a highspeed. Wally is really good at using the Speed Force and being everywhere at once on the field, but due to the speed and friction of it all, he gets incredibly stiff. After long missions, he can hardly bend his legs. Barry has this issue too, sometimes so bad that Hal has to carry him back to the Watch Tower so he can recover.
Which brings Wally to the current predicament.
Like any other Thursday, there was some sort of Meta causing all sorts of trouble for the Titans. Usually, Wally let the kiddos handle it themselves, but this was a little above their paygrade. Plus, he watched Damian get thrown into the side of a building and with that red gleam in Jon’s eyes… he had to get involved. Unfortunately for Wally, that involved a lot of running around without a lot of time to stretch and eat before, so by the time the Meta was on their way to prison, the Speedster was dead on his feet.
Luckily, Jon was already rushing Damian to a Zeta-Tub (despite his protests) and helped Wally get to it as well. Hal and Barry should be doing their Watchtower shift, so he could flop in front of them and spend the rest of the day getting pampered. Instead, when he arrived, Dick was there and brought him to the medical bay, giving him a glass of water and a special protein bar to get a lot of calories fast.
“Walls, you should really stretch, otherwise you’ll be sore,” Dick mused, grabbing his hand and pulling him off of the exam table.
“Just let me rest my eyes, songbird.”
Dick ignored Wally and instead got to the floor, starting a few simple stretches. Wally followed along, though his movements were not as precise. Especially when it came to the cat-cow position. His back was sore, there was no way he could arch either direction.
“Dick, I can’t do this,” Wally huffed.
“Here, rest your hand on my lower back and push down,” Dick instructed, looking back at Wally on all fours. Wally’s hands moved quicker than his brain and he soon had his palm flat on Dick’s lower back. Then, he arched.
All of a sudden, the position caught up to his stupid brain.
Wally was a goner.
“Feel the stretch?” Dick asked, damn near pressing his chest into the floor.
“Uh, yeah,” Wally mumbled, face flushed.
“Great! Now you try. Here, let me help you,” Dick said, completely oblivious to the fact Wally was almost drooling on the floor, looking anywhere but Dick’s body.
Wally followed the motions, slowly getting on his hands and knees, fighting his stiff muscles. Before he could start the arch, Dick was pressed up firmly behind him. His hips were flush with Wally’s ass, the heat between their bodies burning Wally’s bare skin where his shorts were cut mid-thigh.
“Good. Tell me when it hurts, as in, it feels more painful than a stretch,” Dick hummed, bringing both of his delicate, long fingers up to rest on Wally’s lower back. Then, he pushed. Wally arched slowly, wincing at the soreness stretching through his muscles. It took away from the fact his ass was pushing back into Dick’s hips.
“Okay, okay, that hurts,” Wally wheezed, face flaming, back screaming for mercy.
“You’re doing so well. Just hold it for a bit longer. Walls,” Dick hummed, using his thumbs to massage circles into the dimples on his back. Wally hung on to Dick’s every word, his traitor brain giving him all sorts of ideas.
After a few more minutes, Dick ran his hands up and down Wally’s back, then patted his hip.
“Does that feel less tight?”
Jesus Christ. Wally was going to die.
“It feels much better,” Wally said, which was the truth. His back was definitely not as tense, but every other muscle was.
“See, and Tim always complains when I make him stretch his back. But sitting at that computer all day hunched over like that cannot possibly be good! Anyways, let’s do your legs next. Roll onto your back.”
Wally followed Dick’s orders, groaning at the feeling of his legs stretching out all of the way. And just as quick as his relief began, it was squashed beneath Dick Grayson. Wally was expecting a few leg raises, maybe the butterfly pose, not Dick swinging his long legs over his hips and saddling the Speedster, like Wally was a stallion and Dick was the reverse cowboy.
Think about something gross. Hal and Barry. Canned peas. The SAW movies.
“Lift your left leg into a right-angle. Yes, perfect.”
Dick grabbed around Wally’s knee and pulled, stretching his quads and glutes. It hurt, but took away from the feeling of Dick’s ass grinding down on his hips. Wally breathed through the stretch, thinking about Jigsaw, settling down slightly.
Until Dick trailed delicate fingers up Wally’s thigh, skimming the hem of his shorts, and starting to massage. Even the SAW traps couldn’t save him. For one, that was an incredibly sensitive area, even without the soreness. And two, it was Dick Grayson rubbing dangerously close to his groin, trying to ease whatever lactic acid built up from running in and out of the Speed Force all day.
“Good job, Walls. Just let me do the work and take care of you,” Dick hummed, gently letting Wally’s left leg fall and grabbing the right one. He slowly lifted it until Wally winced, then moved those damn hands down until he was gripping Wally’s thigh. Like he did with the left leg, he started massaging.
Which felt great, aside from the fact the movement was sending Dick’s ass directly into Wally’s groin with little aborted grinds. The way Dick was talking, all breathy praise, was certainly not helping at all. If it wasn’t for the pain in his legs and back, Wally would’ve been a goner; Dick would’ve felt just how much his stretches were helping Wally.
“There! I think you’re all done. Why don’t we get you somewhere more comfortable?” Dick said, standing smoothly and peering down at Wally.
“Yeah… you go ahead. I’m just going to lay here for a bit.”
Chapter 4 - She Looks Just Like A Dream
Whenever there was music, no matter where it was coming from, Dick Grayson’s body would find a way to move to it. It could be jazz, classical, EDM, even metal, and Dick would sway to the beat and hum along. It was incredible how he seemed to know every song. And the first time Wally saw Dick swaying to Gar’s EDM in the Titans training arena, he was gone. He couldn’t tear his eyes away.
On missions, when Dick thought his comm was switched to private, he would play music through the earpiece and dance when he thought no one was watching. But Wally’s eyes always wandered to Dick, and he would watch silently (like a creep) with a smile on his face. And Nightwing was an incredible dancer, all lithe limbs and perfect rhythm. It’s no wonder he received so much press at Wayne galas.
Wally has been lucky to get invited to the few most recent galas. Mostly, it was on Titan or League business; but sometimes Dick just wanted him there. He felt a bit safer with Wally around. Dick knew no one would touch him, treat him like he was an airhead, or belittle him in front of Wally. The Speedster would step between Dick and whoever was reaching to touch him, or change conversation topics, or flat out just tell someone to back off.
The best part about these Wayne galas: watching Dick dance. Especially when the group returned to Wayne Manor and indulged in silly behavior.
This evening, after piling into the cars Bruce had arranged, the group of heroes arrived in the large foyer of Wayne Manor. Jason rummaged the liquor cabinet and brought out very expensive (and very old) bottles of bourbon. After a few glasses, Tim lounged against Kon on the chaise, in deep conversation with little Lian about whatever childish wonder she was prattling about. Jason and Roy procured snacks, courtesy of Jason being Alfred’s favorite, while Clark and Bruce sat before the fireplace in comfortable silence.
Damian had wandered over to the piano, Jon attached at his hip, and started playing classical sonatas Wally only recognized from being at STAR with Barry while he worked. Wally was across the foyer in a leather armchair, eyes on the songbird twirling in the foyer. Dick was humming to the tune of the piano, his body gently starting to sway. Wally admired him openly, grinning at how comfortably loose Dick was around his friends and family. Even though no one else was dancing, it didn’t stop him from closing his eyes, parting his lips to hum along, and softly sway.
“There the princess goes again,” Jason joked with Roy, undoing the first couple of buttons on his dress shirt. Roy snorted a laugh.
But Dick just gracefully flipped Jason off, humming a bit louder and swaying like he was being led by a partner. Damian kept playing the sonata with delicate fingers, Jon next to him, pressing a few keys here and there to add a tink-tink. Wally wasn’t a dancer— he knew the basic steps courtesy of Barry’s wedding to Hal last year— but he certainly wasn’t as good as Dick.
That didn’t stop him from stepping in on the next tone change, something much slower that he’ll have to remember to thank Damian for later, and dramatically bowing before Dick. He smiled, bright blue eyes and shiny black hair, and took Wally’s offered hand. Selfishly, Wally tugged Dick close so they were chest-to-chest, wrapping an arm around his lower back. Dick’s hand rested on his chest, and Wally started to lead the dance.
Dick’s humming was vibrating in his ear as he rested his head on Wally’s shoulder, letting the Speedster sway them across the foyer. Wally knew he was blushing and was thankful Tim and Kon started dancing too, so there were less eyes on them. Eventually, Lian drug Jason and Roy out, allowing them to squish her between their bodies while they swayed out of time with the piano. Even Bruce and Clark started swaying, a secret smile shared between the two of them.
But Wally was only focused on Dick, the incredible dancer in his arms, and the sound of his hum in Wally’s ear. A smile crept onto his face when Damian changed the tune into Tiny Dancer, Jon humming along. Tiny Dancer was Dick, alright, his pretty-eyed ballerina.
Chapter 5 - The Prettiest Girl I’ve Ever Seen
All of the Bats were beautiful.
Bruce had the silver-fox look going on, with salt-and-pepper hair and laughlines around his mouth and eyes. He was tall and fit for his age, all strong bulk and muscles. He also was incredibly dedicated and intelligent. Jason had sharp features and scars that made him look nothing shy of a warrior. He had glossy-black curls with a striking white patch and a confident smile. He was also a secret nerd, indulging in literature. Tim was dainty but strong, like a hummingbird. He had thin bones but could easily overpower people twice his size. He also had a brain that never quit working. Damian was all elegance, with emerald-green eyes and a soft smile. He was strong-willed, but the most caring person Wally knew.
But Dick Grayson?
Dick Grayson was just as pretty as he was beautiful. Dick was beautiful all around, with a perfect complexion and a wonderful personality, but he was the only Bat that was pretty. He has muscles for days, and the strength and wit to rival Bane, but he was also feminine and dainty. It was a wonder villains took him seriously at all, because Wally would just focus on soft, silky black hair and gorgeous blue eyes that twinkled with the unsolved mysteries of the universe.
Aside from the gracefulness, Dick was charming in a way no one else was. He could confidently talk his way in and out of any situation because others were so comfortable around him. Wally falls victim to this daily and ends up doing all sorts of things for Dick. Just yesterday, he fell into a trap and ended up doing all of Dick’s yardwork. Some might confuse this with manipulation, but not Wally. He knew it was just Dick’s daily charm.
And now, sitting across from Dick at his kitchen table, treating their injuries and deciding on what to eat for dinner, Wally was entranced. Dick had just taken his domino off, fluffed his hair, and gave Wally his signature pouty look when he refused Chinese takeout for the seventh night in a row.
“C’mon, Walls! You know they have the best noodles.”
“Songbird. We’ve had noodles every night,” Wally argued.
Dick sighed and raised his manicured eyebrows, giving Wally big, blue, puppydog eyes. Long, black lashes framed the ocean-blues, making him look like a model out of a magazine. Wally let himself stare into those gorgeous blues for a few long seconds, resting his head in his palm.
“I wonder what Bludhaven’s worst would say, their biggest opponent having such beautiful blue eyes and a pouty lip, begging for Chinese takeout.”
Dick flushed. But just as soon as Wally had him flustered, it was gone.
“Well, now we are definitely getting noodles. You can starve,” Dick mumbled, reaching for the menu.
Epilogue - From The Cover Of A Magazine
“I got here as fast as I could,” Wally said, skidding to a stop in the Batcave.
“Oh, thank God. I can’t handle this asshole alone anymore,” Red Hood grumbled, typing furiously on the Batcomputer.
Wally turned to look at Dick, quickly assessing him for injuries and furrowing his brow when he saw Nightwing sitting with his hands in his lap, domino still on, assumingly glaring at Jason.
“What’s going on with him?” Wally asked.
“Truth pollen,” they said in unison.
Once again, Wally had that cute wrinkle in his brow, lips pursed, trying to figure out why he was called as an emergency contact over truth pollen.
“You look cute when you think like that,” Dick stated, then slapped a hand over his mouth.
“See?” Jason sighed, trying to replicate the pollen antidote.
Wally flushed red. Dick had to look away so he wouldn’t say anything else. Wally paced around, poking at papers and looking over Jason’s shoulder. Finally, Jason shoved back from the computer with a deep sigh.
“When that gets done, shake the vial and put it into a clean syringe. Administer it to Dick, get him a snack, and send him to bed in his old room. Bruce and Clark can play doctor when they get back tomorrow.”
“Where are you going?” Dick asked, kind of afraid to be alone with Wally. Who knows what that damn pollen would get out of him.
“I’m missing out on movie night with my baby girl and papa bear. You two have it from here. Not like it’s sex pollen,” Jason shrugged, walking to his motorcycle.
Wally flushed from the sex pollen comment. Dick gagged at papa bear.
“If you call Roy that in front of me again, I might tear my ears off.”
Jason just laughed and told Dick to grab the scalpel from the table.
Wally stood across from Dick arms crossed. Like the lovesick fool he was, Dick smiled up at him, letting his eyes roam the Speedster’s body.
“Truth pollen, huh?” Wally asked.
“Yeppers.”
“So… I can ask anything and you can’t lie?”
Dick blanched. Then, the assault began.
“Am I your best friend?” Wally asked.
“Yes.”
“Why do you hate Kyle so much?”
“Because he constantly flirts with you,” Dick seethed.
Wally flexed his biceps where his arms were crossed over his chest. Dick tried not to drool.
“What’s your favorite color?”
“Orange.”
Wally sighed.
“I wasted a question. I knew the answer.”
He thought a bit more while Dick begged the stars to have Wally keep asking silly questions. With a sigh, Wally checked the time left on the antidote. Still a few minutes. Better sooner than later because he was tired. With a yawn, he uncrossed his arms and raised his hands over his head, rising on his toes. The t-shirt he was wearing rid up, exposing the freckled, pale abdomen.
Of course, Dick’s traitor eyes locked in on that expanse of stomach. He almost licked his lips.
Dick was really glad for the domino. It wasn’t like anyone could tell where he was looking, so he could stare at Wally’s abs, that perfectly-defined V on his stomach his tongue ached to trace. There was a dusting of fiery-red hair down his naval, down into his waistband. Dick did lick his lips this time, eyes roaming Wally’s body with deep appreciation.
“Um, Dick? Everything okay? You’re kinda… spaced out,” Wally asked, concerned on his face.
And… yeah. Dick did not realize he was ignoring whatever he was saying, staring directly at him instead. Even with his eyes hidden behind the domino, Dick was sure Wally could tell where his head was at.
“I think I’d be better if you took that shirt off,” Dick blurted out.
Wally flushed red. Dick panicked.
“I’m so sorry, I do not know where that came from! The truth pollen, I just—”
“How about you take the domino off, songbird, and show me what you’re staring at. Then, maybe, I’ll take my shirt off,” he said in a teasingly-soft voice, clearly a bit shy with the situation, but smiling and flexing his muscles in quite an exaggerating manner.
Nightwing never tore off the domino faster. He also was certain his speed beat Wally’s, for even the Speedster was surprised with how quick Dick tugged him down onto the couch, and enthusiastically pressed their lips together.