Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The slam of the front door is as deafening as the silence that follows.

Dick thinks it should be difficult to look at Wally when Jason’s words are rattling around in his brain, but he finds that he can’t bring himself to tear his gaze away, not when Wally’s staring at him with a tiny little smile—like he’s happy to simply exist with him.

“I’m sorry about Jason,” Dick eventually says. Even though he feels a trickle of mortification, mostly because he feels so seen by his brother, there’s also a simmer of anticipation beneath it all, too. Dick toys with the cuff of his hoodie (that Wally got him ages ago), peeking at the man from beneath his lashes. “But, um, I would like to talk about… us.”

“Yeah?” Wally breathes, and Dick suddenly finds himself sitting beside the couch. He blinks several times before turning his head to the slightly blurry form beside him, watching in bemusement as Wally gulps down half a glass of water.

“You good?” Dick asks, bumping their knees together.

Wally blurs again, stopping after a few seconds and shooting him one of those handsome smiles that takes Dick’s breath away. “Yeah, sorry,” he says, setting the cup down on the coffee table nearby. He even places it on one of their coasters, and the careful action makes Dick feel doubly in love with him, if possible. “I got a bit nervous.”

“Hey,” Dick says gently, resting a hand on Wally’s thigh. The other man immediately goes still, although Dick feels him briefly tense beneath his touch. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m a little nervous, too.”

“Why?” Wally wonders, not unkindly. He eyes Dick in a way that makes his stomach squirm. “I mean, you already know how I feel.”

“And you still… feel?” Dick asks tentatively.

Wally smiles, all handsome and bright, and Dick swears he feels his heart stutter.

“Of course,” Wally says. “I love you, Dick. With every cell in my body.”

“I love you too,” Dick replies with surprising ease, or maybe not, since it’s Wally. “And I want to be with you. I—” He stops, ducking his head when he huffs out a laugh. “I want you, Wally West, as my best friend, my partner… as my everything.”

Wally’s eyes look suspiciously shiny. “Oh,” he whispers, throat bobbing. His leg bounces beneath Dick’s palm, but Dick thinks it’s to get rid of some energy rather than the type of anxious fidgeting he sometimes exhibited when they were younger. “Well, that’s good to hear.” Wally then reaches out to grab Dick’s hand, lifting it off his thigh and squeezing it. The action makes Dick blush, oddly enough. “I’ll be yours for as long as you’ll have me, Dick Grayson.”

“Forever?” Dick asks, maybe a tad too breathless.

Still, Wally lights up, and Dick wonders how he got so lucky to find a man who embodies the sun—warm and joyful, and bright enough to chase away the darkness in Dick’s life. “Forever’s a nice start,” he says softly.

Dick doesn’t know who makes the first move.

One moment, they’re just staring at each other, sharing similar smiles, and the next, Dick is in Wally’s lap, hands buried in Wally’s hair while they kiss and kiss and kiss. They briefly stop, only to end up panting into each other’s mouths before Dick tugs on his hair to drag him in again, stomach swooping in a way that reminds him of flying through the skies. He can feel the curve of Wally’s smile against his lips, and he wonders if Wally is thinking of something similar—maybe the rush of running fast enough to cross vast waters without sinking beneath the surface.

He forces himself to break the kiss when he gets a bit too lightheaded, eyes fluttering open to see a string of saliva connecting their lips. It makes something hot and heavy settle in his core. Dick slides a hand down to cup Wally’s face, brushing his thumb over Wally’s bottom lip and waiting for the other man to look at him.

“Hi,” Dick whispers when their eyes meet.

“Hi,” Wally whispers back, the sound of his voice making Dick shiver.

Dick leans in one more time, drawing their next kiss out so it’s slow and sweet. He feels Wally’s pleased hum and presses even closer, only to stop when something brushes his thigh. It doesn’t help that Wally’s wearing sweats, so there’s really nothing left to the imagination.

He feels a flicker of heat in his stomach and sees something similar reflected in Wally’s eyes. 

“Sorry,” Wally mutters against his lips, and he almost pulls away from Dick completely.

“Don’t worry about it,” Dick replies, reeling him back in. “Me too.”

Every time their tongues slide together, it fans the flames, making him squirm in Wally’s lap, moreso when Wally slides a hand over one of his hips. Dick thinks he makes a sound, too distinct to be anything but what it truly is, and he nearly whines in despair when Wally breaks their kiss.

“We can stop,” Wally says breathlessly. His cheeks are flushed red, revealing all of his cute freckles. Dick has to lean in and kiss him again, limiting himself to a few pecks on his lips because otherwise, they won’t be saying much. “Whenever you want—and if I go too far, let me know. Please.”

Dick almost tells him he’s willing to climb on him right then and there, and the clench of his lower gut tells him that his body is in fervent agreement with the idea. He slides his hands onto Wally’s shoulders and slowly exhales, attempting to calm himself down.

“I think I’m okay with anything,” he finally says, a little surprised with himself. Dick meets Wally’s gaze and smiles at the man, brushing the back of his fingers over Wally’s jaw. “I trust you with me, Walls.”

Wally looks deeply moved by the sentiment. “Okay,” he says, voice slightly rough. His hand flexes on Dick’s hip, and Dick tries his best not to shift. “Thank you, Dick. I’m glad you do.”

“Anywhere, too,” Dick adds, because he wants to make sure Wally knows he’s interested. “We’re sitting on a perfectly good, sturdy couch.”

Wally chuckles. “That’s good to know,” he says, fingers brushing over Dick’s back. He touches the bit of skin that’s exposed, and Dick feels another spark of heat course through him. “Seriously, though, we don’t have to do anything just because we’re together now. I’m okay with waiting for as long as you need, Dick. I know—”

“What if I want it?” Dick interrupts, leaning in closer. This close, he can feel Wally’s shaky exhale ghost over his lips. “I want you, Wally West.”

Wally’s pupils dilate, and Dick can see his throat bob. “Okay,” he says. “I want you, too.”

Hearing that makes Dick smile, feeling a little flutter in his heart. “Okay,” he says, feeling happier than ever. “Yay.”

“You’re so beautiful,” Wally says, sounding dazed. It draws a huff of laughter out of Dick, and his smile grows wider when Wally cups his face. He carefully grabs Wally’s wrist and turns his head to press his lips against Wally’s palm. Soft and smooth, so unlike Dick’s calloused, crooked hands, but he loves it all the same.

Like how Wally loves him.

“Love you,” he says again, because he can—because he’s allowed. “Love you so much, Wally.”

And there’s that blush again, but this time, it’s paired with a smile that makes Wally’s eyes crinkle at the corners. He looks so handsome and sweet that Dick finds himself leaning into him yet again. “Love you too,” Wally replies, his eyes fluttering shut.

Their next kiss goes from slow to heated almost immediately, causing warmth to crawl down his spine. Dick shudders when Wally presses against his lower back, which encourages Dick to rock closer, and that’s all the encouragement Dick needs to lose himself in the love of his life.

★★

(“I’m very in love with you,” Wally says when they bump into a wall on their way to the shower. He only blurs once. “Not to sound too cheesy, but I think about growing old with you, and I know I will never love another the way I love you.”

Dick has always been the most balanced of the pair, but hearing those words makes him feel like he might fall over from the joy bubbling beneath the surface, even when he’s got Wally’s arms bracketing him, the other man’s knee between his legs. His heart soars and his stomach swoops, and Dick cups his face, watching Wally’s eyes flutter shut when he sweeps his thumb across his cheek.

“I feel the same way,” Dick says, feeling an ache in his chest. It’s the good kind, though—the one that comes with knowing he’s got something good. “I love you, Walls. With every cell in my body.”

“Hey,” Wally mutters as he leans in. “That’s my line.” He still smiles at Dick, and it’s so handsome and bright that it takes Dick’s breath away. “What else are you going to steal?”

“Your heart,” Dick tells him, brushing their lips together. “I hope.”

“It’s already yours.”

They don’t leave for a while.)

★★

After a very intense shower with Wally, Dick enters the living room, still drying his hair with a cotton t-shirt, right as Jason steps out of the elevator with two toddlers in his arms. Cookie practically prances inside, disappearing down the hall.

“Impressive,” Dick comments, eyeing their flailing little brother. Bart is surprisingly docile as he dangles from Jason’s hold, occasionally blurring in place while he chews on the ear of his precious Gigi. “Back so soon?”

“It’s been three hours,” Jason deadpans, walking past him while Dick stands there, stupefied. He blinks several times before turning to watch his brother dump both children on the couch. Bart lies there in a pile of limbs while Tim makes a sound not unlike a spicy kitten. “I hope that means you sorted things out.” A pause. “By the way, I ran into your annoying friend.”

“Roy?” Dick says, absolutely delighted. “Aw, yay! Is he coming up?”

“Probably,” Jason replies, shrugging. He starts walking away, and Tim hurriedly slides off the couch to run over and latch onto his leg. “Hey! Let me go!”

“No!” Tim scowls. “Jay, no weave me!”

“I’m going up to my floor to change!”

“Take me wit’ you!”

“You’re the most annoying toddler in the whole wide world!” Jason retorts, but he still leans down to scoop up their little brother, holding him close to his chest. Tim looks over at Dick with a big, satisfied grin. “Come on, you giant baby! You’re lucky I keep some of your clothes up there since you always insist on breaking into my room to bother me.”

“Nuh-uh!” Tim’s voice grows fainter as they enter the elevator. “Jay’s mine. Don’t bother.”

“Uh-huh, right.”

Dick chuckles, moving closer to the couch when the door closes. He stands over the baby speedster, waiting for the boy to look at him. Finally, after Bart shakes Gigi around about twenty times, he gives Dick a toothy grin and sits up, happily saying, “Hi, Mr. Dee.”

“Hi, Bart,” Dick says, returning the smile. He crouches in front of Bart to help him remove his harness and leash, tossing it aside before gently pinching one cheek. “Remember what I said before, silly? You can call me ‘Dee.’ I’m fine with it.”

“Oh, otay!” Bart giggles. “Hi, Dee!”

“Hi, Bart,” Dick says again, picking him up and carrying him over to the kitchen. He searches the cupboards for a light snack because Bart is probably hungry again. “Did you have fun with Jason and Tim?”

“I did! Yeah!” Bart points out a packet of Goldfish Colors, so Dick grabs it and a small bowl, pouring some inside. He holds it up to the toddler, huffing a laugh when Bart picks out all the red ones and eats them first—as he always does whenever they give him these crackers. “We went to the park! An’ pwayed games! An’ we also—”

Dick walks around the living room, nodding along to Bart’s tale and letting the boy eat the rest of his Goldfish. At some point, when Bart is simply resting his head on Dick’s shoulder, rattling Gigi around, Dick hears a knock on the door.

Hoping it’s one of his other best friends, Dick bounces over and swings it open. “Roy!” he exclaims and nearly flings himself forward to drag the man into a side hug, only to stop when he sees the white box in Roy’s hand. “Ooh, what’d you bring me?”

“It’s a surprise,” Roy says, eyes flicking over him. Then, he smirks. “It sounds like you had a great day.” He shoves past Dick (which, wow, rude!) and carries the box away, leaving Dick to shut the door and quickly follow. “Glad I made it here in time—also, hey? Were you ever going to tell us about your brother being back?”

“I was gonna do it eventually,” Dick grumbles and stops. “Wait, what do you mean by us?”

“Hm. Maybe you should check your phone.”

Dick stares at him, only moving to set Bart down on one of the high chairs when the kid starts squirming in his hold. “I’ll check it later,” he decides, trying to reach past Roy to flip open the box. Roy somehow maneuvers it onto one hand and smacks him with the other. “Hey!”

“Give me my moment!” Roy hisses, setting it down on the dining table. 

Dick cradles his hand close and pouts at him. “You didn’t have to be so mean,” he grumbles, only to receive an eyeroll in return. Whatever.

“This,” Roy announces, “is the best day of my life. Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this? Do you??” He flips open the top and pushes it toward Dick, grinning so widely it makes Dick a little afraid for his sanity. “Almost a decade of waiting, and it finally happened.”

Dick peers inside the box, almost sighing when he sees CONGRATULATIONS written across the top of a sheet cake in rainbow frosting. It’s surrounded by red and blue hearts.

“Thank you,” he says as blandly as possible, lips twitching when Roy cackles. “I’m surprised it doesn’t say more.” Dick leans over to drag his finger across one white corner, popping the digit into his mouth with a hum. “Buttercream! Yum.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet you like it,” Roy says with a leer. Dick rolls his eyes and shoves him away. “And I would have put more if there weren’t little eyes around.”

“Bart,” Dick says, looking at the boy in question. The baby speedster lifts his head, some drool dripping off his chin and onto the table. “What does it say?”

“Um.” Bart squints at the cake before hesitantly answering, “It say… you name?”

“Good try, bug,” Dick tells him, smiling when Bart beams. He carefully pats the boy’s head before turning back to Roy. “Well, thank you for taking that into consideration.”

“Ooh, cake!” Wally says as he suddenly appears beside them, hair still flat and damp. “What flavor?” Their eyes meet before Wally flicks his gaze downward, and Dick can see the desire flicker on his face. It brings heat back to Dick’s cheeks, and he finds it difficult to look away. “Something good, I hope?”

“Does it matter?” Roy wonders. “You’ll eat anything.”

“True.” Wally wets his lip before turning away. Dick definitely doesn’t imagine the way his clenched fist blurs at his side. “It can be my second dessert.”

“Ugh, gross,” Jason calls out when he exits the elevator with a pajama-clad Tim in his arms, now dressed in a plain black t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants Dick stole from Bruce. He decides not to tell his brother for sanity’s sake. “Get a room.”

“I’d rather get a room with you,” Roy immediately replies.

Dick’s eye twitches. His hands start reaching out before Dick even thinks about what he’s doing, ready to strangle the man for daring to hit on his other favorite little brother. Unfortunately, Wally intervenes, but he does grab Dick’s wrist and tug him against Wally’s side, so that makes Dick feel a little better.

Jason frowns, shifting in a way that tells Dick he’s slightly uncomfortable. Then, Jason smirks, although it quickly gets hidden when he ducks his face to kiss Tim’s head. “Ew,” he says without even looking at Roy. “In your nightmares, Harper.”

“Ouch,” Roy says, clutching his chest. His playful expression eases, and his whole… everything shifts from his typical self to something more real. He nods once and turns toward them, grinning. “Well, I got you guys red velvet—figured it’d be something good for everyone, especially the kids.”

“Can I have some alweady?” Bart suddenly exclaims, throwing his arms up. “I been waitin’ fo’ever! That’s too wong!”

Dick laughs, and he hears it echoed by his friends and brother. Roy gets moving after Wally points out where they keep the cake knife, and soon, the kids are happily eating their slices of cake, actually sitting in their high chairs without trying to escape, while Dick picks at the one on his plate.

“Wha’ a’e you doin’ in Got’am, Roy?” Wally asks with a full mouth. The frosting on his lips is very distracting, and even though Dick could absolutely lean over to lick it clean, he doesn’t want to set off his very possessive baby brother. He watches Wally’s throat bob when he swallows his massive bite and sighs dreamily. “You’re supposed to text us when you’re stopping by!”

“Initially, I was here to check in on Waylon,” Roy says with a sniff. “But then I decided to stop by and say hello to my very good friends Dick Grayson and Wally West, only to find out from the former’s recently revived brother that they’re making all of my dreams come true.”

“Oh, how is he?” Dick wonders. “Still living in the sewers?”

“I’ll find out later,” Roy says, waving a hand. “This is way more important.”

“It’s really not,” Jason mutters, eyes flicking between them before settling on Roy. He frowns, but Dick detects a hint of curiosity, and maybe a bit of respect, in his gaze when he says, “Waylon… Jones?”

“Oh, yeah!” Roy brightens. “He’s my buddy! Well, buddy-slash-sponsor. I try to check up on him every now and then to update him on my life and maybe get into a little friendly tussle if he’s not in a particular mood.” He pats his pockets before pulling out his wallet, slipping a photo of Lian out of it—she’s in a cute, floral dress with mud on her hands and lopsided pigtails. “Thought I’d leave him another picture of Lian.”

“Maybe I should send you off with one of Tim and Bart,” Dick muses, looking over at his brother. “What do you think, baby?”

“Yeah,” Tim says and laughs, kicking his feet. “He’s funny.”

Roy and Wally discuss something else while Dick attempts to get Bart to eat less messily. It never works, of course, but at least the baby speedster sits still for him so Dick can wipe most of the frosting off his chunky little cheeks.

Dick dares to pinch one. Bart doesn’t even react.

Movement catches his attention, and Dick turns slightly to see Roy moving over to the seat by his little brothers. To his amusement, Jason doesn’t even glance at him, but it might also be because he’s seemingly focused on Tim, who attempts to feed him some cake off his wobbly fork.

“So,” Roy says in a very casual tone. “What do you do for a living?”

“Arson,” Jason answers shortly.

“Oh, that’s cool!”

“And murder.”

“Less cool, but I get it.”

Jason grunts, finally eating the piece Tim keeps trying to offer. Tim makes an excited sound and quickly turns back to his plate, trying to cut off another corner. He ends up flipping the cake onto the table. Dick wants to despair over it, but instead, he sits there, stunned by the sight of Roy looking awkward as he eats the rest of his cake, not even attempting to continue the conversation.

At some point, Wally finishes his cake and leans back against the chair, arms crossed as he stares ahead at nothing. Dick wants to ask what’s wrong, but his brain lags, and he ends up admiring the man’s handsome profile, happy he can do it so openly rather than waiting for the opportunity to steal a glance.

“You two are gross,” Roy comments as he sets down his fork.

“Cool story,” Wally says, suddenly appearing behind Roy. “We need to talk.”

“Have fun,” Dick says with a grin, only to sigh when he feels the weight of Wally’s other hand on his shoulder. “I guess the ‘we’ includes me?”

“We’re together now,” Wally says, setting off a bunch of happy fireworks in Dick’s head. “Of course it includes you.”

“Alright,” Dick says, and even to his ears, he sounds lovesick. “Um. Watch the kids, Jay.”

“Watch the kids, Jay,” Jason mocks in a high-pitched voice, not even bothering to lift his head. Dick is very tempted to push his face into his slice of cake, but instead, he decides to be the bigger person and leave his little brother alone. “Jay, Jay, Jay.”

It turns out, Dick isn’t the bigger person, and he manages to smear some frosting across his nose before Wally whisks him away.

★★

“Don’t bother Jason too much,” Wally says warningly.

They’re holed up in the hallway outside Wally’s bedroom, probably because it’s far enough away that they won’t be overheard, and close to the dining room so they can hear if something goes wrong.

“I’m not!” Roy holds both hands up. “Come on, guys! I know when to take a hint!”

“You do, and you’re great about it,” Wally replies, bumping their shoulders. The two fall into a typical slap fight, and Dick stays on his side of the hallway so he doesn’t get caught up in it. “I need to make sure, though, because he’s my friend—don’t hit me on the nose!—and he’s about as fragile and suicidal as Dick before we forced an intervention on him.”

“Hey,” Dick says, mildly offended. “I resent that!”

He gets ignored. Typical.

“Huh, okay,” Roy says as he shoves a hand against Wally’s stomach, causing Wally to fold inward with a wheeze. He seems to ponder something for several seconds while Wally gasps for air (Dick ends up rubbing his back out of concern), before hesitantly asking, “Does he need a friend? I’ve got some time on my hands.”

Dick exchanges a look with Wally once the speedster is back to normal. “I mean, maybe,” Dick says when Wally shrugs. “Jay is a bit prickly with everyone but the kids, Alfred, and Ace, so don’t be too offended if he ignores your attempts at friendship.”

“Eh.” Roy waves a hand. “If I can handle you in your most brooding, unsociable era, I can handle him. Probably.” He crosses his arms, his frown directed at the floor. “I know what it’s like to be seen as an outcast, and I was lucky enough to have you guys when I was at my lowest. It doesn’t seem like he has a connection like that, so…” Roy gestures to himself. “I can try to be his friend.”

“Alright,” Dick says, trying not to smile. “But if it seems like he might shoot you, back off, because he will.”

Dick has nearly been on the receiving end several times already, but he’s lucky that having Tim around means the guns are both hidden and never loaded.

“What’s a little shooting between friends?” Roy counters, eyes bouncing between them. Then, he smirks. “So, are you two going to kiss anytime soon?”

“Yes, but without you,” Dick says, ignoring Roy’s exaggerated pout.

“Leave my boyfriend alone,” Wally says, giving Roy a gentle shove.

Normally, Dick would join in because it’s always fun to playfully beat on Roy, but his mind is too busy joyfully shrieking, BOYFRIEND BOYFRIEND BOYFRIEND BOYFRIEND BOYFRIEND, and it’s taking all of his mental capacity. He leans against Wally, smiling stupidly at Roy, who rolls his eyes, but doesn’t seem annoyed—actually, Dick thinks he looks pleased.

“I really am happy for you guys,” Roy says with a more reserved smile.

“Thank you, Roy,” Dick says, reaching out to bump their feet together. He’s about to say something else, only to stop and tilt his head because he hears… well, nothing, and that’s enough reason for him to grab Wally’s wrist and drag him back to the living room. 

It’s never a good sign when things get too quiet around the apartment, and sure enough, Dick walks in to see Bart crouched under the table, hands (and Gigi) covered in frosting. Unfortunately, he can’t even get mad at Jason, because Tim is on the floor in the midst of a tantrum while Jason attempts to clean cake off his hair.

“We probably should have put the cake away when we stepped out to talk,” Dick mutters to Wally.

“Yeah, probably,” Wally says with a grimace. “We’ll just toss them both into a bath.”

Dick snorts. “We?”

Wally nods. “You’re right,” he says. “It’s not our problem.”

Roy squeaks when Wally and Dick suddenly turn to yank him closer, using the momentum to push him in the direction of the kids. A giggle threatens to burst out of Dick, especially when Wally calls out, “Kids! Roy is going to give you a bath!”

Tim and Bart’s heads snap up. Like demons unleashed from the pits of hell, they scream simultaneously, “No bath!” And proceed to rush at Roy on all fours, causing the redhead to shriek loud enough to set off one of their Bat-alarms.

★★

(“How,” Roy says with a haunted look. His wet hair sticks to his forehead, giving him the appearance of a drowned rat. “How are they so messy? Lian was never this messy! How…” He suddenly clutches Dick’s shirt, eyes full of crazed admiration. “Holy fudge. You guys are troopers.”

“Thanks,” Dick says flatly, shoving him away right as Tim snaps his teeth in the space Roy just occupied. It makes Roy scramble away from the toddler, and Tim doesn’t make it any better when he cackles. “Tim, stop it! We don’t bite people!”

“I not Tim! I’m a monster!” Tim exclaims, turning to throw himself into Dick’s arms. He smells like strawberries, and Dick squeezes him closer to sniff his head. “Eep! Dee, stop! Stop!!! M’twying to be a monster!”

“You could never be a monster, Timmy!” Dick tells him before blowing raspberries into Tim’s neck, causing him to shriek with laughter. While Tim squirms in his arms, he looks over at gaping Roy. “Don’t worry, Roy! I won’t let him hurt you.” He pauses. “Again.”

“You terrify me,” Roy tells him.

“Good,” Dick says smugly. “That means I haven’t lost my touch.”

Roy grins. “You could touch—”

Dick unleashes Tim upon Roy and relishes in his screams.)

★★

Unfortunately, even though he’s officially dating Wally, it doesn’t mean he can be as open as he likes with the man.

It’s not because Jason keeps wrinkling his nose whenever they’re being particularly touchy, or because people in Gotham are rude (they actually don’t give a fuck about anything unless they need to run from a Rogue attack). The reason is quite simple, and Wally is the one to point it out when Dick is attempting to lure him into a kiss while they’re making breakfast in the kitchen.

“The kids don’t know yet,” Wally says, glancing around furtively. “I don’t want Tim to kill me.”

“What!” Dick waves a hand. “You won’t die, Walls!”

“That’s what you think, but you saw him with Roy!” Wally shakes his head, plating some of the crispier parts of the hashbrown. “One wrong move, and I’ll be next!” He points the spatula at Dick. “And, like, I love you and all, but I kind of prefer living so I can spend the rest of my life with you, okay?”

Dick has to look away to hide his silly smile. “Alright,” he says, going back to frying eggs. Wally likes them in any style, but Dick knows he prefers them fried since he likes the crispy edges. “Maybe we should tell them separately. Like, I take one kid, and you take the other.”

“That sounds like a terrible idea.”

“Or a wonderful one!”

Wally laughs, and Dick stills when he feels the man move closer, not doing anything else. He glances at him and sees Wally gazing at him fondly.

“Can I hug you?” he asks. “At the risk of my own life, I mean.”

Dick struggles to contain another smile. “Well, if you really want,” he says, squeaking when Wally immediately wraps his arms around him, hugging him from behind. Wally then kisses one of Dick’s shoulders, releasing a contented sigh. The action reminds Dick of him doing the same thing in a different setting, and even though he’s fully dressed this time, it makes him shiver all the same.

Sadly, Wally jumps away from him a moment later, and Dick is about to ask why when he hears the familiar pitter-patter of feet. He looks over and sees Bart leading Tim into the kitchen, holding Tim’s hand while Tim grimaces.

“Done?” Bart asks when he nears, releasing Tim, who immediately wipes his hand off on Wally’s sweats. Dick tries not to laugh. He really does. But Wally’s unamused look tells him he didn’t try hard enough. “It’s weady? We eat?”

“Almost, my favorite bug,” Wally says, leaning down to pick Bart up. Like always, Bart flails around, blurring in Wally’s embrace, before abruptly flopping against his shoulder. “Can you wait a bit longer? Or are you feeling a little faint?”

“No, I’m otay,” Bart says, tugging Gigi free from his shirt. Dick didn’t even realize she was under there. “Gigi’s hungy.”

“Oh, yeah? What about Bart?”

“He’s hungy too!”

Wally grabs another pan to cook some sliced sausage, and Dick passes everything over to let him make their breakfast burrito. He also tears off smaller pieces of tortilla to make smaller ones for the kids to try—Tim seems to enjoy it, much to Dick’s surprise, while Bart chews for a bit before wrinkling his nose and spitting it back out onto Wally’s hand.

“No, t’anks,” he says, shaking his head. “Not wike that.”

“Okay, bug,” Dick says, patting his head. “You can have it just on the plate by itself. Can I ask why you don’t like it? Does it remind you of something else?”

“I’unno,” Bart says, now chewing on Gigi’s ear.

“Alright. That’s fine, too.”

He herds the kids over to the table, helping them into their high chairs. They have gotten better at staying in them during their meals, but Dick, Wally, or Jason still need to stay nearby in case they decide to surrender to their devilish sides and make an escape attempt.

“So,” Wally says when he’s starting to eat his third burrito. Dick is still working on his first. “Telling them separately… Who gets who?”

“Well, there’s a choice that’s obvious,” Dick muses, sipping some of his orange juice. He sees Tim eyeing his cup speculatively and sighs, leaning over to let Tim have some, too. “But I think we need to go opposites with this subject. It’ll show them that they matter, even though we’re not the primary caretaker for that specific kid.”

“Hm…” Wally takes another large bite of his burrito, looking thoughtful. “Good point. I’ll probably take Tim to the zoo, then. I know he’s interested in Komodo dragons and all sorts of other reptiles, so at least it’ll keep him happy before he decides to feed me to the lions.”

“He wouldn’t do that!” Dick replies, frowning. He looks down at his little brother, who seems to be fully concentrating on trying to stack a small bit of hashbrown on his egg, and asks, “Right, baby?”

“Uh-huh,” Tim answers faintly. “I do it.”

“Thanks,” Wally says dryly before bumping their knees together. Such a simple touch shouldn’t be so electrifying, but Dick shivers nonetheless. He needs to get a grip (on Wally, maybe). “Do you need any ideas for Bart? He likes… everything.”

“Nuh-uh!” Bart scowls. “Don’t wike sushi!”

“Everything except sushi,” Wally amends, and Bart bobs his head in satisfaction before returning to his meal with vigor, forgoing his fork to grab some of his eggs and shove them into his mouth. 

Dick leans over to redirect his behavior, wiping his face clean while Bart attempts to get a better grip on his fork. “I have one already,” he says, picking some egg out of Bart’s hair. “A trampoline park! I even found one that has a bunch of bounce houses, too.” Now that he’s saying it out loud, Dick feels like it might be a dumb choice, but one glance at Wally’s bright expression tells him it might be a great idea. “I’ll probably dip into my trust fund to rent it out for half the day,” Dick adds, patting Bart’s head. “And cash in a favor with Barbara to mess with the security footage whenever he decides to get speedy.”

“Smart, but you should just ask beforehand because we both know he’s going to forget himself in his excitement and run around anyway.”

“Good point.”

After the boys finally finish their meals, Dick takes them to the room to get them all cleaned up and ready for the day while Wally feeds Cookie. The dog mostly keeps to herself in their spacious apartment, but she always emerges from the shadows for feeding time (or when Tim wants to play with her, which is nearly every time the boy sits down).

“Gigi wants to dwess too,” Bart tells him after Dick pulls the Flash shirt over his head, holding out his dirty little blanket. They’ll have to give it another bath later. “She told me.”

“Maybe we can find something for her to wear,” Dick says, squishing his cheeks. “Like a bowtie!”

He leaves Tim with Cookie, who pads into the room while licking her snout, and delivers Bart to Wally by the door. Wally is already dressed, slinging a packed bag over his shoulder.

“Here you go,” Dick announces, dropping Bart by his feet. Bart immediately wanders off to the living room, probably to try and grab another toy at the very last minute. “Well, you can get him in a sec.”

“Mhm.” Wally smiles softly at Dick. “Can I kiss you goodbye? Please?”

Dick doesn’t even need to think twice about it. He nods and wraps his arms around the man, eyes fluttering shut when Wally leans in and delivers a kiss so sweet, it leaves Dick with a desire for more. Then again, maybe it’ll be his new normal. The thought is somewhat scary, but Dick thinks it’s okay because he’s with Wally.

Wally would never hurt him.

“I love you,” Wally whispers.

“Love you back,” Dick says after opening his eyes. He smiles at Wally and briefly presses their foreheads together, breathing in the scent of petrichor. Dick doesn’t think he will ever tire of it. “Stay safe out there.”

“Will do,” Wally says, his shaky exhale ghosting over Dick’s cheek. “I’ll always come running back to you, Dick. Promise.”

★★

After getting himself ready for the day, and subsequently doing the same for Tim when the toddler gets stuck in his shirt again, Dick carries him down to the garage with a bag full of toys and snacks for him—because he’s that person now.

Tim quietly beeps in his ear when Dick unlocks the car. Dick gives him a quick little kiss on his head before opening the back door and leaning in to buckle him into the car seat. He distracts Tim with Batbear before shutting the door and hurrying to the driver’s side, sliding inside, and engaging the child lock.

“What should we listen to, Timmy?” Dick asks as he starts the car. He glances up in the rearview mirror and turns to reach out and tug Tim’s finger out of his mouth. “Stop it! You just touched the dirty car.”

“Sowee,” Tim says, not sounding sorry at all. He hums thoughtfully, bouncing his heels against the car seat. Dick hopes he doesn’t toss his shoes to the floorboard like the last few times. “Um! I want Pawade!” A pause. “P’ease!”

“Alright, alright,” Dick says with a laugh. It’s amusing how Tim’s musical preferences have mostly stayed the same, which is great for Dick since he has similar interests. He hits play on the console and buckles his seatbelt, starting the drive out of the garage to work. Familiar chords fill the car, and with it comes the soft sound of Tim’s voice.

“C’mon, come all to twagic uh-fair,” Tim sings happily. “Wipe off tha’ makeup, what’s in is dis-pear…”

The smile stays on Dick’s face as he listens to his baby brother, even when Dick tries to join him and is very harshly told off. Both toddlers never like it when other people sing with them, especially if they’re watching their cartoons.

Eventually, Dick pulls into his designated parking spot and waits for the song to finish. He then shuts off and exits the car, quickly walking to the other side so he can grab Tim’s bag and help the boy out.

“I wike the songs,” Tim tells him when Dick pulls him out, wrapping his arms around Dick’s neck. “Jay doesn’t.”

“Oh, yeah?” Dick closes the door with his side, locking it as he walks away. He stops to heft Tim up higher on his hip, smiling when he sees a few of his students excitedly making their way to the gym—all dressed in bright colors, just like him. It was a simple request when he started these classes, and witnessing the kids follow through with it makes him feel like he’s passing on a small piece of his parents’ legacy. “What music does Jay listen to in his car, Timmy?”

“Wat Cage,” Tim answers, reaching up with a hand and twisting his fingers into Dick’s hair. Dick winces at the initial tug, but thankfully, the boy loosens his hold after a reminder from Dick. “Bell Toll, um…” He clears his throat and does a very distinct vocalization, “Ahhh!”

“Led Zeppelin? Yeah, that tracks,” Dick comments, unlocking their employee entrance by the dumpster and swiftly slipping inside. “Jason does strike me as a rock music type of guy. Do you like what he plays?”

“Uh-huh,” Tim says, bobbing his head. “I wike when Jay scweams the songs.”

Dick snorts, thinking of all the times Tim would shriek along to the Barney & Friends theme song, which would also rile up Bart and Cookie, resulting in an early morning alarm. “Yeah, I bet.”

He stops by the employee locker room to remove his and Tim’s shoes and socks before carrying the boy into the gym. Dick typically sets up shop in one corner, mostly so he can sit Tim down behind a baby gate when he’s teaching the older kids. This time, however, he’s teaching the younger division, so he’s all smiles when he walks over to the small, brightly colored group. 

“Hi, guys!” Dick says happily, receiving a chorus of, ‘Hi, Mr. Grayson!’ in response. He waves to some of the parents sitting against the mirror and sets his brother down on the floor, dumping Tim’s bag on a chair as well. “We’re going to start with some warm-up stretches, okay? Do you guys remember why?”

One little girl with crooked ponytails waves a hand around. When Dick points to her, she says in a jumbled rush, “It prevents muscle imbalance!”

“That’s right, good job!” Dick says, beaming. He connects his phone to the little Bluetooth speaker he always brings with him and starts playing music from his kid-safe playlist. Once the first song starts playing, Dick helps the kids spread out and starts guiding them through some stretches. Tim even helps him model a few.

Dick goes to correct his brother on one, only to stop and blink in surprise when he sees Bruce Wayne standing near the entrance.

He almost wants to turn away to ignore the man outright, but Dick notices how frantic he looks, and it piques his curiosity enough to find out what’s going on. Dick flags down Alice, one of his favorite co-workers, to have her watch over his class, apologizing to the kids before scooping Tim up into his arms and walking over to the man he still considers a father.

“What are you doing here?” he hisses once he nears, perching Tim on his hip.

“Dick,” Bruce says stiffly. “I just—”

“Boose,” Tim suddenly interrupts with a toothy grin. “Hi.”

Bruce visibly softens, a barely-there smile tugging at his lips. “Hi, Tim,” he says warmly, hand twitching at his side like he wants to reach out to the boy. Dick fights the urge to move away in case it does happen. “How are you?”

“Good!” Tim exclaims. “You?”

“I’m also good, thank you for asking.” Bruce’s expression shifts to something more neutral when he meets Dick’s gaze again. “His tracker stopped working, and I—” He exhales, rubbing his temples. “It wasn’t my intention to show up here without letting you know, but panic got the best of me. I’m sorry.”

“You’re—” Dick stops and blinks at him, dumbfounded. “Wow. I’m shocked to hear you apologize.”

“Right,” Bruce mutters. “Of course.”

Dick looks down at his brother, sighing when he sees Tim chewing on a finger. “He probably found it and tossed it somewhere,” Dick says as he tugs the digit out of his mouth. Tim immediately wipes it off on his shirt. “I think I heard something crunch under my tire earlier.”

“Oh.”

He stares at the other man for a long moment. Seeing the stress lines in his face and the bags underneath his eyes makes Dick feel a pang of sympathy because he, too, understands that type of frenzied concern. “You can reactivate mine,” he eventually says begrudgingly. “And I’ll look through the supplies at the penthouse to see if I can find another one for Tim. Honestly, you’re lucky he didn’t try to eat it.”

“It was in the sole of his shoe,” Bruce mutters, but he gives Dick a look of pure relief. “Thank you.”

Dick nods once and averts his gaze. Nothing more is said, but Dick is uncomfortably aware of Bruce and his intrusion into Dick’s daily life. “Can you go?” he asks quietly, staring at the floor. “I’m not actually ready to see you.”

“… Yes, I can go.” A pause. “May I have a moment with Tim, first?”

“Yeah,” Tim says before Dick can answer, tipping toward the man.

Dick carefully transfers Tim into Bruce’s arms, catching sight of Bruce’s tiny smile. It transforms his face entirely, seemingly removing the shadows beneath his eyes and the worried furrow in his brows. And even with Dick’s feelings of anger, when he looks at the man, all he sees is his father.

Tim cups Bruce’s chin, sporting a frown that’s far too similar to his teenage self.

“Boose,” he says in a scolding tone. “Not takin’ care. Why?”

Bruce chuckles—a sound that was once comforting to a younger Dick Grayson. “I’ve been busy, Tim,” he says. “I keep forgetting.”

“Do bett-uh!” Tim demands, kicking out a foot. “Or… Or I get mad!”

“Well, we can’t have that,” Bruce says, looking amused. His expression shifts to one Dick immediately recognizes, as it was always present whenever Dick got lectured as a child. “Tim, did you take the tracker out?”

“Um, yeah,” Tim answers with an unrepentant grin. “I feeled it in my shoe an’ wanted to get it out. So, I did it!”

“And you didn’t try to eat it?”

“No, ‘cause it didn’t taste good!”

Dick almost laughs when he hears Bruce sigh.

“Well, don’t do it again,” Bruce scolds, less severely than Dick expected. Maybe he needs to stop comparing these moments to his own childhood. “It makes me feel better when I know where you are at all times. You remember doing the same, don’t you?”

“Uh-huh.” Tim hums thoughtfully, scratching his nails over Bruce’s light scruff. “Otay, Boose. I no toss ‘em.”

“Promise?”

“Pinky pwomise.”

“Alright,” Bruce says, and Dick does huff a laugh when he sees this grown man solemnly shake pinkies with a toddler. “You’re going to be good for your brothers, right? And you won’t cause any trouble?”

“No twouble,” Tim tells him. And then, he very sweetly adds, “I’m a good boy, Daddy.”

“Good.” Bruce kisses his cheek, and Tim proceeds to pop his lips against Bruce’s chin, giggling afterward—probably due to Bruce’s scratchy beard. “Will I see you tomorrow?”

“Um, yes!” Tim replies, sounding scandalized. “Boose, we gotta finish the show! Wemember?” He huffs, shaking his head. “Sometimes, you so siwwy.”

“I know, Tim,” Bruce says with that same tiny smile from earlier before wrapping himself around the boy. Something pained, agonized, flashes across his face, but it’s gone when he lifts his head and starts passing Tim over. “Thank you. And again, my apologies for bothering you with this, especially when you’re working.”

“It’s—” Dick thinks it over for a moment longer. “Well, I’m not going to say it’s fine, but I get it. I’d probably be just as panicked.”

Bruce dips his head before turning to go. He pauses in the doorway, turns to look at him, and works his jaw in a way that makes it seem like he wants to say something else. Dick decides to wait, not even wincing when Tim lightly tugs on a few strands of his hair.

“You should come over for dinner soon,” Bruce softly says, sounding somewhat resigned—like he expects a denial immediately.

And Dick very nearly follows that expectation, but then he looks down at Tim, who is facing Bruce with one of those cute, toothy smiles, and tries not to sigh.

“I’ll think about it,” he finally says. As he looks at Bruce, Dick catches a flicker of joy pass over the man’s face before it fades back to his neutral expression, and he tries not to let it get to him. “And I’ll let you know when I decide to come over. Also, feel free to text me any concerns about Tim. Only Tim, okay? Nothing else.”

“Understood.” Bruce inclines his head and leaves without another word, which Dick is a little thankful for because he doesn’t think he can muster up any additional energy for the man.

“Okay, Timmy,” Dick says as he carries him back over to his class. Although he feels somewhat perturbed by Bruce’s sudden presence, Dick makes sure none of his students realize it by plastering on a bright smile, directing it to the parents as well. He keeps his body language calm and relaxed, even as he leans down to set Tim on the mat.

“Alright, kids!” he says, selecting a different song from his dance playlist. “Who’s ready to start tumbling?”

Each and every one of them flings their hand up.

★★

(After relaying the conversation to Jason, Dick practices walking around on a handstand while Jason paces the roof, muttering to himself. He gives the idea some thought, tossing it around his mind while he cartwheels from two different points, until finally, Dick springs up to do a backflip, placing his hands on his hips.

“I think I’m going to go see him,” Dick declares, and when Jason whips around to look at him, Dick holds up a hand. “Not because I want to, Jason, but to make things better for Tim.” He pauses and tentatively asks, “Does that make sense? Or is it dumb?”

“No, Dick,” Jason says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s smart. I get what you’re saying. It’s just—” He huffs. “Why are you telling me?”

“Because I wanted you to know,” Dick says, daring to edge closer. He stops when Jason shoots him a wary look, holding up his hands. “And so I can reassure you that it doesn’t mean I’m taking Bruce’s side in this. I only want to do what’s best for Tim.”

“Yeah, I know. Why do you think I go to pick him up from the manor?”

“Oh. Right.”

“But you don’t have to worry about me—”

“I always worry about you,” Dick admits.

Jason blinks at him, his expression shifting to something that reminds Dick of a child—vulnerable and unsure, but willing to accept what is being offered to him. “You don’t—” His face clears, and he looks away. “I’ll be fine, Dick. Just don’t tell me anything about him, alright?”

“Alright.”

“And don’t go talkin’ about me, either. He doesn’t get that, not until I forgive him.” Jason chuckles, shaking his head. “Which will never happen, so…”

“You got it, Jay,” Dick says, and now that Jason is fully relaxed, Dick closes the distance to gently bump their shoulders together. “You’re a good brother, you know?”

Dick almost misses it, but he swears he hears Jason mutter, “You, too.”)

★★

About two weeks into their relationship, Dick starts to feel… restless.

It seemingly comes out of nowhere, and nothing he does makes it go away. Dick can sometimes feel it settle whenever he’s swept up into Wally’s arms, stealing kisses in the laundry room or in Wally’s room when the kids are busy bugging Jason—which can get dangerous because it makes Dick want more, more, more, more—but otherwise, it’s a constant presence in his life.

(“Sorry,” Dick gasps after one intense makeout session, wanting to press closer but knowing Wally is keeping himself angled away for a reason. “I love being with you, love touching you—kissing you.” He sneaks in another peck, feeling Wally’s hand briefly tighten on his hip. “Love you.”

“Don’t ever apologize,” Wally says, voice breathy. “I’ll never be upset with how much you want me, not when I feel the same.” And he kisses Dick again, causing Dick to sigh happily. “I love you too.”)

And one Sunday afternoon, after Wally comes home from a grocery trip, the feeling only gets worse, simmering beneath his skin. He watches Wally’s bicep flex even through his hoodie when he leans down to pick up the bag of dog food for Cookie, carrying it into the kitchen without breaking a sweat—which is crazy because those things are heavy.

“You need help with the rest of the groceries?” Dick asks when Wally heads back to the elevator, bouncing his leg. “I’m not busy.”

Seeing Wally has reawakened that hunger inside him, and Dick doesn’t know what to do with himself. All he knows is that he needs to get his hands on Wally or he might implode.

Wall stares back at him. Then, his expression flickers, and Dick sees a yearning he thinks is reflected in his soul. “Yeah, okay,” he says, lips twitching. “Come and help me, gorgeous.”

Dick blushes.

“Oh my fuc—dging god,” Jason mutters with a very dramatic gag. “Leave already!”

Bart smacks his spoon against the table and laughs loudly. “That’s funny!” he exclaims before attempting to repeat the sound.

“No!” Jason says, looking horrified. “Don’t do that!”

“Why?” Bart demands, frowning. “You do it!”

“Because I’m an adult! I’m allowed to do a lot more things than you little munchkins!”

“Like what?”

“Shoot pee-peel,” Tim suddenly says, stuffing a grape into his mouth. He chews on it noisily, bobbing his head. “I hear Boose talkin’ about it wit’ Babs. She go, ‘M’not gonna watch him, Boose!’ And Boose go—” Here, Tim grunts. “So, yeah.”

“What!” Jason looks at Tim with a scowl. “What else have they said about me?”

“I’unno.”

Dick tunes out the rest of the conversation as he leaves the table and follows Wally into the elevator, anticipation settling beneath his skin. His eyes drift lower to observe Wally as he walks, and he allows himself to appreciate the sight—something that typically goes unseen by most people since Wally always moves too fast.

The moment the elevator doors shut, Dick wraps himself around Wally, clutching the man’s hoodie as he slots their lips together. Wally tastes like mint and everything good in the world, and he kisses Dick in a way that makes him feel dizzy. He almost squeaks when Wally lifts him by his hips to press him against the elevator wall, and Dick wraps his legs around the man, heat licking his spine while they kiss and kiss.

(Art by @sreppub)

“Missed you,” Dick mutters after a while, dragging his lips to Wally’s cheek. He peppers a few tiny kisses against Wally’s heated skin before pulling back, smiling at Wally’s half-lidded expression. “Love you.”

Wally brightens. “Love you too,” he says before kissing him chastely. It still makes Dick shiver. “God, I missed you so bad.” He nuzzles Dick’s cheek. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“Yeah?” Dick says, breathless.

“Mhm.” Wally presses closer, tucking his face against Dick’s throat and breathing deeply. “You smell good.”

“Do I?” Dick grins, moving his hand to caress the back of Wally’s neck. He plays with the ends of Wally’s hair, sliding the soft strands between his fingers. “So do you, Walls.” Dick gently tugs Wally’s head up, guiding him into another kiss. It’s much slower, softer, but it still fans the flames in his belly.

“I’m serious about the groceries,” Wally says at some point, lips red. There’s an imprint of teeth on his lower one, already fading away, and Dick wonders when he bit him. “But I’m definitely not complaining if we stay here for a while.”

“We can go down there,” Dick tells him, suddenly feeling shy. He wrestles with the desire that seems to be overtaking him every time he so much as looks at Wally, until finally, he manages to speak again, “Do you—”

“Yes,” Wally says quickly.

Dick laughs, brushing his thumb across Wally’s chin. “You don’t even know what I was going to ask!”

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll agree to anything you want.” Wally turns his head enough to kiss his thumb. The simple action makes something in him shudder. “Tell me.”

“That thing you mentioned the other day…” Dick can feel himself blushing. “When we—in the shower, I mean.”

“God, yes,” Wally says fervently, his hand flexing on Dick’s hip. Dick meets his gaze, and he’s nearly overwhelmed by the sheer want in Wally’s eyes. “And I meant it, okay? You don’t know—” He stops, and Dick almost misses his soft, ragged exhale. “You don’t know how badly I want to do it.” Through all of this, Wally manages to give him a searching look. “But are you sure?”

Dick nods, probably almost as fast as Wally. “Yes, Wally,” he still says out loud because he knows the verbal confirmation makes Wally (and maybe himself, too) feel better. Sure enough, the man visibly relaxes, lips quirked, and gaze still fixated on him. “I want it.”

“Okay.” Wally kisses him again—quick and barely there, but still enough to leave Dick with a craving for more. “I’ll make it good. Promise.”

★★

(“You know, maybe it’s a little cliché to start doing things right after we got together, but I feel like it’s a long time coming,” Dick comments, still hot all over and breathing heavily.

Wally releases an agreeing hum from where he’s pressing sticky kisses against Dick’s throat, his hand sliding over Dick’s bare hip.

“And I know your love isn’t tied to… this,” Dick says, curling a hand around the back of Wally’s neck and feeling a tremble in his thighs. “But I’m just—” Dick slides his fingers into Wally’s hair and tugs his head up, feeling a bit flustered when he sees Wally’s blown pupils. “I don’t know. Every time I look at you, I want to jump your bones. It’s making me feel insane.”

“I love you,” Wally says dreamily before bumping their foreheads together. And like every time since they officially got together, he quietly asks, “Can I kiss you?”

Dick answers by kissing him first, tasting himself.)

★★

The grocery bag bangs against his leg when the elevator starts to go up, but Dick merely adjusts it, picking a different one off the floor.

He turns slightly and frowns when he sees Wally rubbing his jaw. “You okay?” he asks, shifting the bags to his other hand so he can reach out to brush his fingers over the very same spot.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Wally says, leaning into his touch. He shoots Dick one of those quirked smiles, eyes full of mischief. “Waiting for the ache to go away.”

It only takes a couple of seconds for Dick to piece it together, and immediately, his face is on fire. “You should have stopped sooner!” he complains, frowning at him. “I don’t want you to get hurt because of me…”

“You think I’m complaining?” Wally says incredulously. “Dick, I was equally interested in what was happening, and I’m willing to revisit it at any point in time—hell, I’ll do it more than once a day, if you ask.” He steps closer, their bags rustling when they bump together. “I’m yours, Dick. Nothing will change that.”

See, Dick knows he’s desirable. It’s something he hears no matter where he goes.

People either want him because he’s connected to Bruce, or they only see him as another pretty face and body to scratch off on their headboard—the latter opinion being the most popular whenever he goes out as Dick Grayson, ‘Richie,’ or Nightwing.

But with Wally, it’s different.

Dick knows Wally wants him, except it’s so intertwined with his love and devotion that it actually makes Dick feel good about himself. He never thought he’d be the type to enjoy being worshipped, but the feeling of Wally’s touch, or the sensation of his lips against Dick’s skin, always makes him want more. Wally sees him, faults and all, and still chooses him. With Wally, there’s a promise of a future, and Dick doesn’t plan on letting him go, not for anything.

“Okay,” he says quietly, leaning up to kiss the corner of his mouth. This close, Dick can hear the hitch of Wally’s breath, and it makes him smile. “Thank you. I love you.”

“Love you too,” Wally mumbles, sounding dazed. He blurs for about five seconds, and when he’s in focus again, he’s gazing at Dick so fondly that it makes his heart feel like it’s tumbling through the air. “With every cell in my body, remember?”

“How could I forget?” Dick says with a smile, kissing him properly this time.

★★

On his day off, Dick tires Tim out by playing with him, puts him down for a nap, and gets to cleaning the whole apartment.

Halfway through his task, while he’s digging out a stash of Legos, figurines, and puzzle pieces from beneath the couch, his phone rings. Dick grabs it as he’s tossing everything into a small pile in the center of the room and answers the call. 

Before he can say a simple greeting, Donna’s voice blares through the speaker when she says, “I don’t care if you’re busy or not! We’re going to bring back our daily phone calls because I need to know everything about what’s going on in your life right now.”

“Okay,” Dick says, bemused. “Well, work started—”

“Cool,” Donna interjects, and Dick hears the sound of her entering her car. “I love you and I’d love to hear all about it, but what I really want you to talk about is Wally. And don’t leave out any details, okay! I want to know every little thing.” A pause. “Is it?”

Dick glances at the hallway leading to his bedroom, waiting a few seconds. When nothing happens, he sighs and says, “No.”

Donna laughs, sounding delighted. “Okay, we’re on the right track!” she exclaims. “Alright, more than we predicted, or did we guess correctly?”

“Uh…” Dick rubs his knuckles against his warm cheeks. “I think… a little more than we predicted.” He slides his palm over his mouth to hide his silly little grin. “Felt nice, too.”

“Details, Dick! Details!!”

Even though he’s blushing almost the entire time, Dick tells Donna everything. It’s not a new thing between them, though. Dick used to talk about everything he did with Kori back when they were together, and Donna did the same whenever she and Roy would fall into bed for fun.

“Amazing kisses aside,” Donna says after he’s done with his tale, sounding semi-distracted. Dick can hear the faint gabber of people in the background, along with the metal rattling of shopping carts, and realizes she’s doing her weekly grocery run. “How are you feeling?”

Dick hums, considering the question. It doesn’t take very long for him to find his answer.

“Happy,” he says, nudging the box of large building blocks aside to sweep a pile of crumbs to his much larger pile of trash. “Relieved, too, since we’ve been building up to this for so long.” Dick pauses, staring down at a small ball of dust underneath the kids’ craft table. “And I think I’m a little anxious about how I might react when we finally—” He stops, face warm, but it’s at odds with the tiny flicker of dread in his gut. “Yeah.”

“That makes sense,” Donna says, and the note of sympathy in her voice makes Dick feel warm. Yay for progress! “Did you ever talk to him about it?”

“I gave him about as many details as I gave you,” Dick tells her. “So, he knows.” And wow, the thought doesn’t even make him want to throw up. It’s such a vast difference from how he felt months and months ago. “But he’s been great about it. I…” He chews on his bottom lip and grabs the dustpan, carefully sweeping the pile onto the plastic surface. “I might tell him.”

“Only if you want to, Dick.”

“I do,” Dick replies, only a little surprised to discover he’s being truthful. “It’s just that sometimes, when he gets near me or touches me, my whole body tenses up like I’m waiting for something worse, and I stay like that until my brain catches up to remind me it’s someone safe. And—” He stops to sigh. “I know he’d never hurt me like that, and I want him to know I know he wouldn’t. Does that make sense?”

“It does, yeah.” Donna falls silent, and Dick can hear something sliding across a shelf. He thinks she might be inspecting jars of jam for the perfect consistency and color.

Dick waits it out, carrying the dustpan over to the trash and dumping all the dirt, crumbs, and broken crayon pieces inside. He bangs it against the rim before attaching it to the broom, placing it back in the supply closet. Dick then goes into the kitchen to start preparing a snack for his brother since it’s about time for him to wake up from his nap.

“There’s no shame in that, Dick,” Donna eventually says, the squeak of the wheels on her cart filling in for the unspoken trauma hovering between them—two sides of it, both similar and different. “I’m sure Wally understands.”

“He does, even when he barely knows anything,” Dick says with a sigh, grabbing the cookie butter from the cabinet. “Which makes me feel worse.”

“Well, if you really want to tell him about it, then you should take him to some place nice and relaxing to get it all out! Like… a hiking trail! Or—”

“The beach?” Dick suggests, tucking the phone against his shoulder again as he grabs a green apple out of the fruit bowl (because god forbid they give Tim any other color) and one of the smaller knives out of the knife block. “Wally and I have been talking about taking the kids out since it’s getting warmer.”

“There you go! Perfect opportunity, boy beautiful.” She pauses, humming thoughtfully. “And you can always talk to me, too.”

“I know,” Dick says quietly. “And I appreciate it, Donna.”

“Good! I’m glad!” Donna crinkles some plastic. It goes on for about three minutes, giving Dick a prime opportunity to slather the apple slices in cookie butter. “Ugh, dammit! They don’t have my lemon and salt tortilla chips! How do they not have them!? Dick, kill this establishment.”

Dick snorts. “Yeah, sure, I’ll get right on that,” he says, licking some of the spread off his thumb. Yum. He opens the fridge to grab Tim’s half-filled sippy cup and successfully unscrews the top with one hand, filling it with a bit of water from the filter to balance out the sugary orange juice. They’re trying to branch out his options.

“I’m going to offer some advice,” Donna says, the squeak of her cart returning. “And you can’t get mad at me, okay?” She pauses, and Dick makes an agreeing hum. “Don’t let your anxiety be the reason you sabotage your relationship, Dick. You’ve got something good here, and I know you know it, too. Please… don’t hurt yourself.”

Huffing a laugh, Dick leaves the cup and snack in the kitchen to walk over to his bedroom. “God, I feel so seen,” he comments, pausing by one of the photos Wally hung up in the hallway. It’s a cute photo of Tim very sweetly kissing his cheek, and in it, Dick is so overwhelmed by his cuteness, as he so often is daily. “Thanks, Donna. I can always count on you to keep me in line.”

(Art by @sreppub)

“Just let me know how it goes whenever you decide to tell him, okay?”

“Of course!” Dick finishes his journey and slowly pushes his door open, peeking inside to see Tim lying in the center of his bed, rubbing a hand over his Batbear’s head. “I’ve already given you the most intimate details about Wally and me, so why not?”

“Not detailed enough,” Donna mutters. “You haven’t even told me the size.”

Dick almost chokes on a laugh, and the sound draws Tim’s attention to him. He walks inside as Tim struggles to sit up, movements slow as he attempts to shove the blanket off him. 

“Hi, baby,” Dick says warmly, setting the phone down on the bedside table (but not before putting Donna on speaker). “Did you have a good nap?”

“Uh-huh,” Tim says, rubbing a fist against his eye. His pacifier nearly falls out of his mouth when he yawns, but Tim quickly shoves it back in before lifting his free arm, Batbear still tucked beneath the other one. “Dee…”

Dick leans down to lift his brother off the bed, feeling a strong wave of affection when Tim immediately drops his head onto Dick’s shoulder with a contented sigh. He rubs his baby brother’s back while rocking him, letting Tim get settled before picking his phone back up. “I’m back, Donna,” he says, holding it toward Tim. “Do you wanna say hi, Timmy?”

Tim furrows his brows, looking perplexed by the question. After a while, his expression clears, and he quietly says, “Hi, Donna.”

“Hi, Tim!” Donna replies enthusiastically, and Dick is thankful that she keeps her voice at a normal level. “Did you have any good dreams?”

“Mm.” Tim reaches up to pop his pacifier out of his mouth, smacking his lips together several times before he says, “Jay was a bug. I keeped him in a box.”

“Well, that’s nice!” Donna says, sounding amused. Dick can hear her scanning items on her end of the call, every beep making Tim twitch. “Speaking of Jay—is he nice to you and your brother? Do you like having him around?”

“Donna!” Dick hisses, beginning his journey back to the kitchen where Tim’s snack awaits.

“Yeah,” Tim says, a bit more lively now. “He make it happy here.”

Dick can hear Donna’s faint coo, but he can’t even make fun of her for it because he’s seconds away from doing the same.

He sits Tim at the table and offers the apples, which Tim accepts with the tiniest wrinkle of his nose. Dick places Batbear on his other side before taking a seat beside his brother, listening to the sounds of Donna shoving all of her groceries into her back seat.

“So, where’s your boo?” Donna asks afterward, and Dick can hear her climbing back into her car, starting it up for her journey home. “I thought he’d be home with you.”

“Working,” Dick says with a sad sigh. “They’re pretty lenient on his hours after he told them about taking in the kids, but he still goes most days out of the week.” He glances at the time on the microwave. “He should be home soon, though.”

“Who?” Tim asks, gnawing on one of the apple slices.

“Wally,” Dick answers. “And Bart.”

“Not Jay?”

“No.” Dick hums. “I actually don’t know what Jason’s doing right now.”

“You mean, you don’t have a tracker on him like you do on us?” Donna says with the most fakest offended gasp Dick has ever heard. When he tells her, she merely laughs. “I learned it from you, buddy.”

Right before Dick can say anything in response, he hears the elevator come up. There’s a small pause before the doors open, and out walks Wally with a writhing Bart in his arms.

“Say hi to Donna,” Dick tells him after he looks their way.

“Hi, Donna!” Wally immediately calls out, not even bothered by how Bart escapes his hold and climbs onto his shoulders. “How are you, Donna? Are you as beautiful as ever, Donna?”

“Hi, Wally!” she replies. “I’m good, Wally! And yes, Wally! I am!” A mischievous note enters her tone when she adds, “So, how did it feel when you—”

“Nope!” Dick loudly says before quickly ending the call, face burning. His phone buzzes with several text messages from Donna, all containing paragraphs full of the laughing emoji. He turns to see Wally already smiling at him, even while Bart yanks on his hair. “Hi, Walls. How was work?”

(Sometimes, the garage lets Wally take half-days so he can spend more time with them. Wally told him that he tried to protest, but they insisted so much that Wally eventually gave in just so they’d stop trying to give him more days off instead.

Wally loves his job, and his boss loves him more.)

“Work was work,” Wally says, finally removing Bart from his shoulders. He visibly winces (as does Dick in sympathy) when Bart yanks out a bit of hair, but the baby speedster is all giggles when Wally holds him upside down. “Good day? You look happy.”

“Yeah,” Dick answers, smiling back at him. “Donna called.”

“I heard!” Wally walks over, giving him a look that Dick has come to realize means he wants to kiss him. To ease the sudden surge of want, Dick reaches out to squeeze his fingers, watching some of Wally’s lightning dance along his knuckles before disappearing. “What’d you two talk about?”

“Oh, you know,” Dick says, waving his free hand. “Stuff.”

“Mhm.” Wally’s hand slides up further, thumb brushing over Dick’s inner wrist. The touch is as electrifying as ever. “Should I make us some lunch? What are you hungry for?”

You, Dick almost says, but reins himself in right away.

“Sandwiches?” Dick suggests, reaching out to grab Bart when he starts wiggling around too much. He smooths down the boy’s hair, sighing at the sight of a new stain on Gigi. “Bart, what’d you do to her?”

“We jump in the puddle,” Bart tells him. “It was wainbow.”

“I washed the worst of the oil off,” Wally says quickly, rubbing the back of his neck. “But, uh… another bath is needed.”

Dick chuckles, resting his chin on Bart’s head. He leans over to help Tim pop open the straw on his cup, gently pinching his cheek when Tim shoots him a grateful look. “It’s your turn today,” he says. “Better get started.”

“You’re right.” Wally takes Gigi from Bart, who giggles and tugs it back several times before finally letting Wally have it. The older speedster holds it aloft with a triumphant grin before gesturing behind him. “But first—sandwiches.”

“Sandwiches,” Dick agrees, barely blinking when Wally disappears.

★★

Dick comes home from his class feeling a little more exhausted than usual, dumping his bag on the floor by the elevator door and stumbling into the kitchen for a snack.

Only to bump into Jason, who has his arms full of a crying Tim.

“What happened?” Dick demands, trying to reach for him. Only, Tim shakes his head before shoving his face into Jason’s neck with a sob, tiny hand twisted into Jason’s shirt.

“He’s fine,” Jason tells him, cupping the back of Tim’s head. His whole hand is almost as big as Tim, and on any other day, Dick would be cooing over the thought. “He fell asleep on the ride back from the manor and got grumpy about it. I’m trying to get him down for a nap, but it’s not working.”

“No nap!” Tim says loudly, voice wobbly. “Not tired!”

“Don’t lie to me, bubs,” Jason says as he moves past Dick and disappears down the hallway leading to the living room. Even from here, Dick can hear him speaking to the boy, “I get that you’re grumpy and stuff, but you don’t need to take it out on us. We’re just trying to help.”

Dick wants to go out there to make sure Tim is okay, but he knows he has to let his brother handle things this time, so he starts searching for his crunchy snack, finally coming up with a bowl of small pretzels. He munches on them while he listens to the sound of Jason talking to Tim. Although he can’t make out what he’s saying, he knows the steady stream of one-sided conversation might be helping Tim calm down.

Then, Dick hears something new.

He goes to the living room and stops, watching as Jason slowly walks along the walls, all while he holds Tim in his arms. Jason is also humming something, and Dick bobs his head to the beat of the song, tossing more pretzels into his mouth. After a while, it gets a little familiar, so he tilts his head to listen, frowning.

“Is that—” Dick squints at his brother. “Is that ‘Enter Sandman’ or am I crazy?”

“I mean, you are crazy, but you’re also correct,” Jason answers, making a hushing sound after Tim releases an upset whine. He rests a hand on Tim’s back, rubbing it until Tim settles. “It soothes him. I really don’t know why, but I’m not going to question it when it works so well.”

“Fair enough,” Dick says with a shrug.

“Jay,” Tim grumbles, rubbing his face against Jason’s shoulder. “Mo’e. Do mo’e. Go again.”

“Alright, bubs,” Jason says, starting to pace again. “I will.”

Tim releases a happy sigh. “T’ank you.”

“You’re welcome, Tim.”

When Tim inevitably falls asleep, Jason sets him down on the couch before tipping his head toward the kitchen. Dick takes a momentary detour to kiss his baby brother’s forehead, seeing Tim smile in his sleep, and quickly catches up to his other brother, seeing him pull a large Tupperware out of the fridge and hold it up.

“Hungry?” Jason asks, and Dick quickly nods.

While they stand in the kitchen and eat reheated leftovers, Dick considers his brother, mostly taking in his slouched form and the bags beneath his eyes from his late-night shifts as a Gotham vigilante.

“You know,” Dick muses, piercing a potato with his fork. He holds it aloft, picking some herbs out of his teeth with his tongue. “I noticed you haven’t murdered anyone lately.” Dick sets his plate down on the counter so he clasps his hands together with a gasp, fluttering his lashes. “Have I finally managed to lure you back to the light? Aww, Little Wing!!”

“Don’t hug me,” Jason orders, but Dick chooses to ignore him (after observing his body language to see that he doesn’t mean it) and does it anyway, receiving a sigh in response. “No, it’s just—” His voice tapers off into an unintelligible mumble.

Dick frowns, leaning back. “What was that?”

Jason sighs again. “Tim said he’d be mad at me if I did,” he begrudgingly admits.

Something wells up inside Dick, causing his lips to twitch and tremble. He feels it bubbled beneath the surface, and it would have escaped if Dick hadn’t had the foresight to cover it up with a very pointed cough. And another.

“You can laugh,” Jason eventually says, sounding resigned.

Dick immediately bursts out laughing.

★★

Summer arrives in Gotham, and it’s as awful as ever.

The mornings are always cool enough to warrant a sweater, but by eleven, the air is turning sticky and wet—a humidity that lingers on his skin until he gets home and washes it all away. His hair suffers the most, and Dick ends up putting it up in a small ponytail most days so he doesn’t have to waste product when trying to style it.

“You’re so pretty,” Wally comments one afternoon, gazing at him with a rather dopey smile. He has his chin in his hands, too. “How are you so pretty? Isn’t he so pretty, Jason?”

“No,” Jason says flatly. “He’s the ugliest person alive.”

Dick throws a pillow at him.

Most of their rogues hate the heat as much as Gotham’s citizens, so summer tends to be less action-packed for the vigilantes. Which is why, with some encouragement from Wally, Dick starts going out again as Nightwing. Only this time, it’s with Oracle’s voice in his ears.

“How’s the little devil?” Barbara drawls one evening, sounding a little distracted. Dick thought he heard his sister’s voice on the other end earlier, so maybe they’re working on a case together. “Still stirring up some trouble in your household?”

“Tim is fine,” Dick answers wryly, swooping down to stop a would-be mugger before he can sneak up on an unsuspecting woman.

“Oh, I wasn’t talking about Tim,” Barbara replies, audibly crunching. It makes Dick feel hungry, and he pouts at one of the nearby cameras after trussing the guy up, removing all his weapons, and dumping him on the floor. “How’s Jason?”

“Nope,” Dick says, dusting off his hands and grappling to the nearest building. He soars through the air, unable to keep the grin off his face when the familiar swoop in his stomach returns. “Nuh-uh. Negative.”

“What!”

“No information about a certain brother of mine shall henceforth leave my lips,” Dick tells her, rolling his eyes when she releases an annoyed huff. “Listen, Oracle. If he wants to talk to you, then he’ll reach out, but I’m not going to tell you anything about him unless he gives me the okay, and that’s something you have to respect, okay? Because otherwise, you’re showing Jay that you don’t care about his boundaries.”

Dick helps a group of women walk home safely while Barbara stays silent. For once, he feels no guilt over the idea of potentially upsetting her, mostly because Dick knows he’s in the right.

“Sorry,” she eventually says quietly. “I was only thinking about myself.”

“Hey, I get it,” Dick says, keeping his tone gentle. “Jason coming back is a gift, and I understand you want to hear all about him… but he’s not ready to reach out to people, you know? And I was only able to convince him to move in because of Tim, so I don’t plan on doing anything to scare him off.”

“I see your point.” She pauses and speaks more tentatively, “Will you let him know that I’d like to see him soon? Whenever he’s ready, I mean. Just… tell him my door is always open.”

“Yeah, I’ll pass it along,” Dick says, pausing to stretch on a rooftop. “So, where am I going next?”

When he’s not out there moonlighting as Nightwing (while avoiding any of Batman’s patrol routes), Dick is busy with work, or he’s taking care of the kids with Wally, and with the heat wave, they have resorted to staying indoors for as much as possible.

“Too bad Gotham beaches suck,” Jason says from his spot on the floor, a popsicle stick hanging out of his mouth. “It’d be nice to put my toes in the sand.”

“Why don’t we go further out?” Wally asks. He’s sharing a strawberry ice cream bar with Bart, whose shirt has turned pink from the juices. “I mean, there are other New Jersey beaches, or we could make a trip out of it and find something along the coast that’s good enough for the boys.”

Dick lifts his head when he hears the freezer drawer slam, tuning out the sounds of Jason and Wally debating locations. Tim soon comes toddling down the hallway, holding the box of Big Stick popsicles.

“Dee, onwy two weft,” Tim says as he approaches, holding it out toward him. “One for me, and one for Dee.”

“Aw, good job counting, baby!” Dick says, tugging Tim onto his lap and peering inside the box. Sure enough, there are two popsicles inside. Even though it’s far too much for Tim to eat, Dick partially unwraps one and passes it to his brother, helping him hold it with both hands. “You got it? Yeah? Okay.” He grabs the remaining Big Stick for himself, tossing the box onto the coffee table and leaning back to enjoy it, keeping an arm wrapped around Tim’s middle.

“I wike this ice cweam,” Tim tells him and proceeds to gnaw on the sides like a little freak. When Dick says as much (albeit more fondly), Tim giggles and says, “It’s more yummy when I do it!”

“It’s official,” Wally suddenly announces loudly. “We are all going to the beach tomorrow! I’ll wake up early to pack the bags, Jason will prepare food, and Dick will—”

“Dick will also wake up early to help around the house,” Dick interjects, feeling something drip onto his arm. He doesn’t need to look down to know it’s the juice from Tim’s popsicle. “I’ll even make the kids some breakfast and get them ready for the day. They’ll probably end up sleeping the entire drive over anyway.”

“Yeah!” Bart agrees, now licking his arm. He pauses and looks at them all in confusion. “Huh? Where we going?”

“Weren’t you listening to anything I just said?” Wally asks, sounding exasperated. There’s still a smile on his face even as he says this. “No, don’t answer. I know you weren’t.” He leans over Bart, who laughs, kicking out his feet. “Are you a silly bug? Huh?? Are you?!”

“M’a siwwy bug!” Bart exclaims with glee. “I am! I am!”

Jason heaves himself up while Wally and Bart are messing around, and Dick watches as he disappears down the hall—probably to get another ice cream, or maybe one of those Cokes in the glass bottles he enjoys so much.

“What do you say, Timmy?” Dick says, glancing down at his baby brother. “You wanna go to the beach?”

“Beach,” Tim repeats, sounding a little distracted. He’s still eating off the sides of his popsicle, but some of it is dripping down his hand, getting onto Dick’s pants. “Beach, beach, beach.” Tim changes the inflection on his voice, which makes it sound like another word entirely, “Beach, beach, beach!”

Jason pokes his head out, bottle in hand. “Who’s teaching Tim such awful language?” he demands, pointing in Dick’s general direction. “We’re trying to raise a good, polite boy in this house! Not a… a… rapscallion!!”

“Wap…” Tim pauses, scrunching up his nose. “Huh?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jason says, taking a sip of his soda. His expression lights up, and Dick has to wonder what’s so good about the drink. “You should be apologizing for your language, mister. We don’t tolerate it in any household.”

“Oh.” Tim still looks confused, even as he says, “Sowee.”

“Mhm. Well, I forgive you, Timmy. Just don’t do it again! Or else!”

“Else what, Mr. Tim’s Jay?” Bart says as he squirms off Wally’s lap, the lower half of his face and hands stained red. “Else what!!”

“How many times do I have to tell you, kid?” Jason says. “Just calling me Jay is fine.”

“But how I know which Jay is you?? I gots a Jay, too!”

“Well, do I look like your Jay?”

“… No?”

Jason looks amused. Dick can even see his lip wobble from suppressed laughter, but he seems to hold it together very well. “You don’t seem sure of yourself, buddy,” he eventually says, not unkindly.

Bart huffs and stamps one foot. “No!” he exclaims.

“Alright,” Jason replies, going back to his previous seat, rolling the glass bottle between his two hands. “That means you can call me Jay without getting confused, okay?”

“Okay.” There’s a brief pause where Bart looks like he’s really mulling it over. Then, he toddles over to Jason, getting in his space and breathing heavily. Jason scoots over. Bart only moves closer. “Mr. Tim’s Jay?”

Jason sighs. “Well,” he mutters. “I tried.” Still, he has a polite smile on his face when he lifts his head and says, “Yes, Bart?”

While Bart babbles to Jason, Dick leans back to observe Wally, who’s watching the two fondly. He lifts the remnants of his melting popsicle and sucks them all off the stick, lips pink and shiny. Dick wants to so badly lean over and kiss him, and when Wally meets his gaze, smiling at him, Dick wonders if Wally’s thinking the same thing.

Eventually, Dick picks himself up to clean the ice cream juices off himself and Tim, passing what’s left of Tim’s popsicle to Jason, who shoves the whole thing in his mouth and basically swallows it whole… only to screw his face up and press a fist against his forehead about a moment later.

“Brain freeze?” Dick guesses, only for Jason to scoff and shake his head.

“No,” he says in the most annoying tone possible, turning away. “Shut up.”

When Dick returns to the living room with a clean toddler, he sees a semi-spotless living room. Dick sits beside Cookie when Tim points to the dog, watching as Wally moves about the room, tidying things up even further.

“You know,” Wally muses at some point. “We could probably start packing today.” He disappears from his spot and reappears with a new, clean change of clothes, a large tote bag, and a piece of paper in his hand. “Okay, I’ve got towels, floaties, goggles, a dog bowl, some treats, Cookie’s towel, extra pairs of sunglasses, our big umbrella, and a small tent on the list… What else do we need?”

“Bat S’ark Wepellent,” Tim interjects, nodding to himself.

“Oh, yeah,” Jason says, wiggling his index finger up and down. “Good call, Tim. We should definitely bring one of those with us.”

“Or two,” Dick muses. “Because you never know what could happen!” He glances at Wally, frowning when he catches sight of the perplexed look on the speedster’s face. “What?”

“You’re pulling my leg, right?” Wally asks, eyes flicking between them. “There’s no way you have shark repellent. I don’t believe it.”

“You can believe what you want to believe,” Jason says with a casual shrug that’s at odds with his gleeful expression. “You’re not the one who had to make sure there was always a can ready in his utility belt.”

“Dick, will you tell me the truth?” Wally asks, facing him with his hands on his hips, the list crumpled in his hand. “Even though Jason probably isn’t lying, the face he’s making tells me that he’s psyching me out, so I need to hear it from my truthful b—” He coughs, turning away. “—friend. Yeah, that’s what I was going to say. My friend.”

“Uh-huh,” Jason drawls. “Yup. I believe you.” He then clicks his tongue, causing Cookie to lift her head and make a confused sound. “Tim, get over here. I’ve got a question for you.”

“I didn’t do it!” Tim says as he slides off Dick’s lap and walks over to their brother, Batbear tucked beneath one arm. He does trip over one of their pillows, but he manages to pick himself up without any tears and continues his journey. “S’not my fault! I pwomise!”

“Yeah, I didn’t ask,” Jason says, leaning toward the coffee table. He pulls out a large case and undoes the latches, pointing at whatever’s inside. “What color should I wear tomorrow, Tim?”

Dick sees Tim peering over with a look of intense concentration—the same one Bruce gets when he’s staring at particularly complex evidence at a crime scene. “Um,” Tim says, pointing at something off to the right. “Tha’ one, Jay.”

“Again with the blue?” Jason sighs. “Tim, that’s what you always pick.”

“I wike bwue,” Tim replies. “The ocean is bwue.”

“Good point,” Jason says, and he only looks slightly annoyed. “Alright, bubs. I’ll wear the blue contacts to match the ocean, but I’m picking a different color tomorrow!”

“Wed,” Tim says.

“I’m not gonna do—” Jason pauses, humming thoughtfully. “No, you know what? Red eyes sound great for checking in on my operation. Thanks again, Timmy. You’re so full of great ideas.”

“It’s ‘cause I’m smart,” Tim tells him, rubbing one of Batbear’s ears between his forefinger and thumb. “Boose says I’m vewy advanced.”

“Yes,” Jason says. “Out of all of us, you might actually finish college.”

“Honestly, I don’t know,” Dick says thoughtfully. “Tim wasn’t a big fan of school in general.”

“It’s pwison,” Tim says solemnly.

“No, it’s not!” Jason scowls. “Tim, you should count yourself lucky that you get to go to school! Especially college! I didn’t even get to finish high school.”

“No miss much,” Tim tells him. “I saw Goody Pwoctor wit’ the de-bill.”

“Oh, so you remember a book from your older life, but you don’t remember who ate the last cookie, huh?” Jason says in a dry voice. Tim huffs, crosses his arms, and looks away with his cheeks puffed. “Yeah, that’s right. I’m not afraid to call you out.”

“Dee,” Tim grumbles, reaching toward him. “Jay’s being mean.”

“You think this is mean?” Jason snaps his teeth at Tim, causing the boy to jump back with a loud, “Eep!” before he bursts into giggles. “I can be so much worse, Tim. You know I can!”

Later, when they’re packing extra clothes for the kids, Dick brackets Wally against the wall, peppering kisses all over Wally’s face.

“Not that I’m complaining,” Wally says after a while, and Dick can feel the curve of his smile against his lips when he places one on the corner of his mouth. “But what’s this for?”

“No specific reason,” Dick answers, gently bumping their foreheads together. He delivers a chaste kiss to Wally, who inhales sharply, one of his hands sliding over Dick’s side and holding onto it tightly. “I just wanted to show my appreciation to the guy I’m in love with.” Dick pauses and leans back, feeling somewhat… embarrassed? Sheepish? “Is that okay?”

“More than,” Wally replies, tucking some of Dick’s hair behind his ear. The action makes Dick blush. “I like it when you initiate.”

“You could, too,” Dick tells him, frowning when Wally shakes his head. “What? You don’t—”

“Dick, I do want,” Wally says, looking fond. “But you’re still not fully comfortable with something like that, which is fine. That’s why I always want to ask before I do anything.” His hand slowly moves up Dick’s side, the touch making him jump. “We’ll stick to what we’ve been doing and work our way up from there, alright? I don’t—” Wally stops, looking pained. “Dick, I don’t want to be another person who hurts you.”

The sentiment makes Dick’s eyes burn. He ends up dropping his head onto Wally’s shoulder, shifting into Wally’s touch. Slowly, Wally wraps an arm around him, and Dick waits for the tension in his body to drain away before he shuts his eyes, letting himself be comforted by Wally’s everything.

“You wouldn’t,” Dick quietly says. “Not on purpose, at least.”

“I don’t even want it to be an accident, either.”

“Well, you wouldn’t,” Dick says again, lifting his head to meet Wally’s gaze. “I always feel safe with you, Wally.”

“Yeah?” The corners of Wally’s eyes crease, his expression growing softer. “That’s good to hear.”

His stomach is full of butterflies, and his heart beats faster due to their proximity. Dick licks his lips, a surge of want coursing through him when he sees Wally’s eyes briefly dart down. He shifts closer, his voice coming out breathless when he says, “Will you—”

“Yes,” Wally says, leaning in. “I’ve got you, gorgeous.”

Their next kiss is as amazing as all the others.

★★

Come morning, when Wally is down in the garage trying to fit everything in the back of the biggest car in the garage (a van Bruce keeps on hand), Dick is sitting at the island while Jason prepares some sandwiches for their trip.

“So, why do you wear different colored contacts?” Dick asks, watching Jason cut a sandwich into small triangles. He then plastic wraps each one before setting them aside, and when Jason shoots him a quizzical look, Dick repeats the question, adding, “Is it a fashion thing, or…?”

“No, no, it’s—” Jason stops, putting his hands on the counter and staring at Dick with a frown. It seems like he’s internally debating something, so Dick waits it out, preparing additional sandwiches for Wally in the meantime. “They’re not prescriptions.”

“I figured,” Dick says. “You do need glasses, though. I see you squint a lot.”

“No, I don’t!” Jason doesn’t even sound too bothered by Dick’s observation. Damn. Maybe next time. “It’s hard to explain.”

“You could try.”

“… I don’t know if I’m ready to tell you everything.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Dick says gently, reaching out to rest a hand on Jason’s wrist. Jason allows the touch for about eleven seconds before shying away, and Dick lets him go. “If you don’t want to talk about it, I won’t make you. I just want to know if they help, that’s all.” He pauses and tries to lighten the mood by adding, “And if you’re open to getting new colors as a gift.”

That makes Jason’s lip twitch. Success! “If you’re offering, I won’t say no,” he says. “I’ve been looking into adding some hazel to my collection.” His expression falters only a moment later. Then, he goes back to his sandwich making, voice quiet when he speaks again, “My eyes are different. They’ve been different since I came back. Wearing contacts helps me feel better about them.”

“Okay,” Dick says simply.

Jason shoots him a perplexed look. “You’re not going to pry?” he asks.

“No,” Dick says, gently tapping his ankle with the side of his foot. “I mean, I could, but you clearly don’t want to go into it, so I’m not going to push. I want you to come to me with any problems whenever you feel comfortable.”

“Oh,” Jason says, and even though Dick detects some discomfort, he thinks Jason is actually touched by the gesture. “Um. Thanks.”

Dick smiles at him, glad to receive a hesitant one in return before Jason goes back to his sandwich-making. It’s nice to exist in the same space as his brother, something Dick will continue to appreciate as the days pass.

“While we’re in such a sharing mood,” Jason says, briefly meeting his gaze. “Is there anything you want to tell me?”

Dick knows it’s a joke, but he does think about it. There’s not anything he needs to say to Jason, per se, so maybe…

“You do good work out there,” he says eventually. “And yes, while you did have a violent start, I’ve seen all the changes you’ve made and the people you’ve saved since then, and—” Dick stops, exhaling shakily. He’s so tempted to put his face in his hand, but he resists, not looking at his brother when he continues, “Well, I’m glad. And I’m proud of you, Jason, but sometimes, when I’m thinking about it too much, I wish you’d been around to save me, too.”

Finally, he sneaks a glance at Jason, seeing the man’s furrowed brows, eyes confused. “What do you—”

“Dee!” Tim shouts as he returns, effectively saving Dick from needing to delve deeper into the issue. “Shoe! Shoeeeeee! Help!!”

“What’s the problem, my baby?” Dick asks, holding out his arms when Tim basically skids to a stop beside him. He grabs Tim and sits the boy on his lap, gasping when Tim lifts a foot to show off the untied laces. “Oh, no! This just won’t do, Timmy! I’ll have to tie them so well that they never come undone!”

“Wow,” Tim says while he works. “Dee is so amazing.”

“What about Jay, huh?” Jason says, sounding annoyed.

“Um.” Tim pauses, but Dick knows it’s deliberate because Tim is grinning. “Jay is otay.”

“Only okay? That’s all I get after taking care of you and catering to your every whim?” Jason sniffs indignantly. “See if I ever make you star-shaped ravioli again!”

“Jay’s gonna do it,” Tim replies, snuggling against Dick’s chest after Dick successfully ties both his shoes. “It’s ‘cause Jay lubs me.”

Jason sighs, and his voice sounds resigned when he says, “Yes, I know.” He looks over, pointing a butter knife covered in peanut butter at Tim. “Are you all ready? Did you tuck Batbear away in your bed so he won’t get sand on him?”

“Yes, Jay,” Tim answers. “I do all the t’ings. When we going?”

“In a little bit,” Dick says, kissing the top of his head. He squeezes Tim close, loving how Tim immediately hugs him back. “How about you go and see if Bart is ready, huh? Because once Wally comes up, we’re gone.”

“Otay!” Tim slides down his body and immediately runs toward the hallway leading to Wally’s room, shouting, “BOT! BOT! BOT! WHERE YOU, BOT!”

“It’d be interesting to spend a day in his head,” Jason comments before holding out a couple of wrapped sandwiches. “Wanna help me pack this in our cooler? I’m trying to bring at least three Cokes with us, so I need some help padding them so they don’t break on the journey over.”

“Your obsession with your soda is getting out of hand,” Dick points out, but he still hops off the stool and moves around the island, taking the sandwiches from his brother. “Yeah, I’ll help.” He meets his brother’s gaze, holding his stare while he says, “I always will, Little Wing. You only have to ask.”

Jason ducks his head, fiddling with the jar of peanut butter nearby. “Thanks,” he says softly, and clears his throat. “Alright, let’s get to it. I need that cooler practically filled to the brim! We’re going to make the most out of this trip.”

★★

The air is cool, the sun is bright, and the smell of sea breeze is strong. In the distance, light gleams off the water and casts an array of sparkles, and Dick thinks he can see little figures leaping over the waves.

Dick takes it all in before walking over to the small fence surrounding the parking lot to smile at the ocean. He stretches his arms above his head, twitching his body from side to side before slowly extending the leg with his bum knee. There’s a twinge of pain right before it clicks, and Dick sighs in relief when the ache goes away.

Seagulls caw in the distance, circling a rather populated area of the beach. He can hear music coming from the array of tents, and he can see people milling about, all taking the chance to escape the heatwave with the cool beach air, just like him.

“Tim!” Jason shouts from somewhere behind him, breaking the peace that was barely settling upon him. “Stop trying to escape! You need sunscreen!”

“No!” Tim bellows back. “Doesn’t taste good!”

“You’re not supposed to eat it! Why are you eating it?!”

“I’unno! Weave me awone!”

Dick smooths down his shorts and hops onto the fence, watching as Jason chases Tim around the car. Tim keeps giggling the whole way around, somehow managing to dodge Jason’s hands whenever the man attempts to snatch him up.

Wally manages to steer clear of their chaos as he exits the car and starts unloading everything. He’s dressed in a gray tank and Flash-themed swim shorts, and in Dick’s opinion, he looks rather yummy as he stands there, biceps on display and the sun shining down on him.

“Need any help?” Dick asks, ignoring the sounds of Tim struggling in Jason’s hold. If Jason can get sunscreen on their baby brother, then Dick is willing to look the other way.

“No, I’ve got it,” Wally says, glancing his way and winking (!!!!!) at him!!! “You can keep sitting there and looking pretty, baby.”

Heat rushes to Dick’s face, and Dick has to press the back of his hands against his cheeks to try to cool off. “Walls,” he whines, pouting a little. “Come on…”

And suddenly, Wally’s standing in front of him, leaning close enough for Dick to feel the huff of his laughter brush over his lips. Dick involuntarily wets them, something in him clenching at their closeness, and he feels the faintest flicker of smugness when he sees Wally’s eyes dart down.

“Stop being cute,” Wally says, briefly blurring in place. Lightning arcs off him and onto Dick, but it disappears almost immediately. The smell of petrichor gets stronger, and Dick finds himself leaning into Wally, overwhelmed and wanting. “You know I can’t handle it when you’re being cute.”

“I should be saying that to you,” Dick says, reaching out to play with the strings of Wally’s shorts. He almost smiles when Wally jumps, but he doesn’t dare stop. “You look good, Wally.”

Wally smiles at him, and Dick thinks this would be a moment where he’d lean in and steal a kiss before the kids (and Cookie) spot them. Instead, Wally leans back, blows him a kiss, and turns back toward the car, opening the back door to release Bart from his car seat. Thankfully, Wally holds onto Bart tightly while the baby speedster flails around, attaching the leash and harness to his body while doing the same to a more docile Cookie.

Cookie spots him and slowly walks over, sharp teeth on display when she yawns. Dick hops off the fence to take her leash from Wally, reaching down to heavily pat her side when she leans against his legs. She releases a soft growl, but after spending so much time with her, Dick knows it’s her way of expressing happiness.

“Don’t worry, girl,” Dick says, shaking off a tuft of hair from his fingers. Now that it’s summer, her shedding has gotten worse. Luckily, she’ll sit still for Wally (and only Wally, as long as Tim is near) when it’s time for a brushing. “It’s going to be just a relaxing day by the beach.”

Cookie growls again.

Jason pops out from the other side of the car, a grumpy-looking Tim dangling from his hands. “I wasted about half a bottle,” he grumbles, placing Tim beside Cookie. The dog immediately turns to lick Tim’s face, only to stop, sneeze, and shake her head. “But this little worm is fully protected from the sun now.”

“For about two hours,” Dick whispers, laughing when Jason hangs his head.

★★

After setting up their area and getting the kids to eat, Dick relaxes with Tim, watching Jason mess around in the water in the distance. Wally is trying to set up a small tent for the kids, but he’s starting to look frustrated by the instructions.

“You don’t want to go play with Jay?” Dick asks, looking down at his baby brother.

Tim bites off another piece of barbecue chip. “No, t’ank you,” he says politely.

“Well, why don’t you try touching the sand, huh?” Dick suggests, taking the bag of chips from the boy and shoving them into his cupholder. He carries Tim away from the chair to a clear portion of the sand and slowly sets him down. “There! Do you like it, Timmy?”

Tim flexes his hands, frowning. “No,” he says eventually, and starts tearing up.

“Oh!” Dick quickly sweeps the boy into his arms and picks him up, wiping sand off Tim’s feet when he keeps twitching his legs. “Aw, I’m sorry, baby! Maybe we just need to wait for you to get used to it.” He carries Tim over to their shaded corner, ducking beneath their umbrella. “But it’s also okay if you don’t like the beach. I know it’s probably very overstimulating for you.”

“Yeah,” Tim says with a sniffle.

“Tim, is otay!” Bart says from the little hole Wally helped him dig out. They covered it with a tarp Jason brought and filled it with some seawater to give the kids the chance to safely ‘play’ in the ocean if they end up not wanting to go out there. So far, it seems like Bart is the only fan, but they do have to keep an eye on him so he doesn’t try to eat sand again. “Feels nice! An’ you can make things!” He points to a tiny lump of wet sand off to the side. “See?”

“I wike makin’ things,” Tim quietly says.

“An’ also!” Bart holds up a… crab??? “You can find fwiends!”

“Where did you get that?” Wally demands, quickly taking it out of Bart’s hand. Bart releases an anguished cry, disappearing from the water and reappearing at Wally’s side, hopping up and down as he attempts to grab the crab. Dick hastily glances around, hoping nobody saw. “No, Bart! We don’t play with crabs!”

“My fwiend!” Bart says, sounding upset. “Give him back!”

“No!”

“I found him first! No steal him!”

“I’m not stealing him, Bart! I’m putting him back where he belongs!”

“He bewong wit’ me!”

“No, he does not!

“Yes, he does!!!”

“What’s going on?” Jason asks, suddenly appearing at Dick’s side. Unprepared, Dick startles and nearly punches him in the face, but Jason moves away at the last moment and gives him a particularly evil grin. Rude. “Tim, why are you crying?”

“He doesn’t like the beach,” Dick tells him, patting Tim’s back when the boy sniffles. “I think he got a little overstimulated with the sand sticking to his skin. He’ll be okay.”

“Hm.” Jason pokes Tim’s cheek; the speedsters are still arguing behind them. “Tim, do you want to sit with me while I sit on a chair in the sand? You can put your feet down and keep testing it yourself.”

Tim sports a wary expression. “Jay’s all wet,” he says, rubbing his eyes.

“I can dry off,” Jason replies, pushing some of his wet hair back. He lifts the hem of his shirt, and he’s not the only one who grimaces at the sound it makes when it unsticks from his skin. “Okay, I might have to change, but that’s no problem! Just… don’t look at me when I do it. I don’t want you to see—” He stops, shutting his mouth with a click. “Well, you know.”

Dick has only ever caught one glimpse of what Jason’s trying to keep hidden. It was when the man was sweating beside Wally while the two of them worked on Jason’s crappy car. He lifted the bottom of his shirt to wipe sweat off his face and hastily smoothed it back down, and while it was too fast for Tim or Bart to see, Dick happened to be looking that way and saw enough.

“Sure, that’s fine,” Dick says, about to bump their shoulders together. Then, he remembers Jason is all wet from the ocean and decides not to risk his hair. It might get too close to the source. “I’ll keep the baby distracted.”

“What baby?” Tim says suspiciously. “M’not a baby.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Jason tweaks Tim’s nose and walks off, dripping water along the way.

Dick glances over at where Bart is chasing Wally down to the water, probably to release the crab back where it belongs, and looks down at Tim to see him scrubbing his nose clean. “Not too harsh, baby,” he chides, picking up the towel draped over his chair and gently dabbing his face. “See? Isn’t that better?”

“Yeah.” Tim sighs, bumping their heads together. “S’nice today, Dee.”

“Yeah,” Dick says, rubbing his back with a smile. “It’s very nice.”

★★

After Tim gets used to the sand, the boys start up a game with the frisbee Wally brought, tossing it for Cookie to chase down. Sometimes, it results in them needing to follow Cookie around to get it back from her, their laughter filling the area.

Sometimes, Wally or Jason joins them to toss the frisbee even further. When Cookie chooses to lumber back to the shade for a nap, Wally takes Bart down to the water at his request to let him splash around. Jason wanders off at some point to do something, so Dick takes Tim on a walk around the beach with an empty bucket to help him pick out some seashells. 

Their adventure goes on for a while mostly because Tim wants to find the perfect conch shell, and by the time they return, Jason is sitting on his chair with three soft-serve ice cream cones in his hand. Wally and Bart are still missing.

“There’s a truck nearby,” Jason explains when Dick sets Tim’s bucket down by the chair. Tim happily accepts the ice cream Jason passes over, holding it with both hands as he licks it. “This is my third one.”

“Where do you put it all?” Dick wonders. “Like, how? You already had about four sandwiches, a soda, and three bags of chips earlier!”

“Big dog gotta eat,” Jason says, making the most obnoxious slurping sound ever when he eats about half of his ice cream. “Plus, these are good. You can never get anything like this in Gotham.”

“Don’t ever say that again,” Dick says flatly. He still takes the other ice cream, standing beside his brothers as he samples it. Yummy. “Where’s Wally? And Bart?”

“Bart is in the tent.” Jason shrugs. “As for Wally, maybe he’s looking for more food, I dunno,” he answers, stretching his legs out in front of him. “He just told me that he’d be back eventually.”

“Oh.” Dick looks at the other people on the beach, hoping to see Wally. Sadly, there’s nobody who fits his boyfriend’s description, but maybe Dick can find him… and talk. It seems like the right time to do it, especially when he recalls his conversation with Donna about it. “Jay, can you do me a huge favor?”

“No,” Jason says around a mouthful of ice cream, leaning back in his chair. He tips his head back, sunglasses going up to his forehead, and says, “Stop calling me Jay.”

“What! Why?”

“Because I hate it.”

Tim suddenly whirls around, ice cream dribbling off his cone and spilling onto his slightly chunky belly. “Jay!” he bellows.

“What!” Jason bellows right back. His voice actually causes people to turn and look their way, and Dick has to wave them off awkwardly.

“Hi, Jay,” Tim says with a toothy grin, toddling over. He climbs onto Jason’s lap, somehow spilling more ice cream in the process, and leans back against his chest. Jason wraps an arm around him immediately, and although Dick can see him grimace, he says nothing about the ice cream… or the nickname!

“If you hate it so much, how come Tim gets to call you that?” Dick questions, hands on his hips. “Huh? Seems a little unfair to me, Jay.”

“Because he’s my favorite,” Jason replies. “What do you want?”

“… Just like that?”

“Well, I’m going to hold you accountable and maybe cash in that favor eventually, but, yeah.” He shrugs, which disrupts Tim a little, causing him to huff and push a hand against Jason’s chin. “Tell me.”

Dick shakes out his hands, imagining the nerves leaving his body, and asks, “Can you watch the kids for a while? I need to talk to Wally about something.” He pauses, thinking over the request, and hastily adds, “Please?”

“Hm.” Jason vacuums half of his soft serve, getting it all over his upper lip. “Sure.”

“Oh.” Dick relaxes, unsure of why he expected Jason to put up more of a fight. “Um. Okay. Thanks.” He watches his two brothers continue to eat ice cream, almost laughing a couple of times when Tim attempts to bite into Jason’s cone. “You’re not going to ask why?”

“Nope.” Jason waves him off with his free hand. Ice cream droplets fling off it and land in the sand. “Go and talk to your boyfriend. Bart is already asleep, so it should be easy to watch them.”

“Oh, wow.” Dick doesn’t even try to hide the amazement in his voice. “How’d you get Bart to go down?”

“I promised I’d buy him three more cones if he took a nap,” Jason says, taking a huge bite of his cone. He crunches it audibly, but Dick knows it’s only so he can annoy him, so he pretends it doesn’t bother him. Ugh. “He was out the second after I made my offer.” Jason finishes the rest of his ice cream, licks his fingers, and says, slightly muffled. “Go!”

Dick goes, but not because Jason told him to, and he says as much while he’s walking away, only to gasp dramatically when Jason flips him off.

“I do it too!” Tim says, but instead of repeating the action like Dick fears, Tim merely points his index finger at Jason. “See? I do it!”

“Good… job…” Jason says with a grimace. “Don’t do it again, okay? Unless you’re with Bruce, then feel free to do it any time you like.”

Dick hesitates, wondering if he should put a pin on this before it spirals out of control, but Jason waves him off again, glaring at him from over his sunglasses. Taking the hint, Dick goes off to find Wally. It takes a while, but he ends up finding him at the vending machine on the boardwalk leading to the pier.

“Hi,” Dick says, gaze falling to Wally’s fingers when the man shoves another bill into the machine. He shakes his head so he can refocus, smacking his hands against his cheeks. “Can I talk to you?”

“Yeah, of course.” Wally bends down to grab a small bottle of blue Gatorade, passing it over without a word.

“Oh, thanks!” Dick cracks open the top and has a sip, only to end up drinking about half of it. When he resurfaces from his electrolyte craze, he sees Wally gazing at him with a tiny little smile, four other bottles in his arms. “What?”

“I’m just feeling incredibly lucky,” Wally says, tipping his head toward their spot in the shade. Dick follows him back onto the sand, taking a few slower sips of his drink. “So, what’d you want to talk about?”

“Something serious,” Dick says, and when Wally starts to look concerned, Dick quickly adds, “But nothing bad!” He edges closer to brush their shoulders together. “It’s something I want to get off my chest.”

★★

After helping Wally deliver the drinks to Jason and Tim, and leaving the third for the still-sleeping Bart, Dick leads Wally over the space underneath the pier, never letting go of his hand. 

They do pause to toss their empty Gatorade bottles into the recycling bin, and so Dick can help a couple take a picture by the ocean, but otherwise, their journey is uninterrupted, and the area is surprisingly empty when they arrive.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” Wally asks while they’re climbing on a couple of rocks. It smells strongly of the sea out here, and a few seagulls pecking at a bag of chips, but otherwise, it’s peaceful. “You’re nervous.”

“You can tell?” Dick says, only mildly surprised. He takes a seat on the cleaner part of the rock, looking straight ahead. The light gleams off the surface of the water, making it seem like it’s twinkling from afar. “I am, though. But… I need you to sit next to me and not touch me for a while, okay? Because I can only get this all out once.”

A large part of him doesn’t feel like he’s prepared enough for this, but when Dick takes a deep breath, exhaling shakily, and lets the words spill out, he finds that it’s easier than he thought, even with Wally’s presence beside him.

It is not raining.

Everything about the beach also helps him stay present. The sunlight chases away the darkness of his memories, and the heady smell of the sea is nothing like the blood in the alleyway, or the smoke of the gun, or the sweat from his panic attack. Those crashing waves differ from the water rushing down the gutters nearby.

It is not raining.

Dick rubs his palms over the surface beneath him, feeling smooth, cool rock instead of rough asphalt. He tastes salt on his tongue, like he did last time, and even though his heart is beating fast, Dick knows where he’s at, and he stays there, even when his voice wavers and breaks, even when he has to pause to gasp for air.

It is not raining.

And finally, Dick gets through it all, feeling rough and raw all over. He’s shaking, too, but even with his feelings of dread, anxiety, and shame, above it all, Dick feels a great sense of relief over having gotten through it.

His voice tapers off as he reaches the end, and Dick takes a moment to wipe his face, using the ball of his thumb to rid himself of the tears on his cheeks. It takes him even longer to muster up the courage to turn and face Wally, and while he waits for it to come, Dick stares out at the ocean, letting the environment calm him down.

“It wasn’t a good month,” he says after a while, hands clasped in his lap. Dick still feels somewhat shaky, but also less likely to throw up now. “I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while—even before we got together—but my fear kept stopping me. I guess some part of me thought it might make you leave, which is irrational, I know…”

“I’m not going to leave,” Wally assures. “I’m—” He stops, exhaling shakily. “Oh, Dick. Are you okay?”

“I’m better now,” Dick tells him, observing the gentle waves. “I still have my bad days, and the nightmares never really go away, but… yeah. I’m better.”

“Okay.” Wally hums. “If you ever need help with anything, I’m here.”

Affection nearly overwhelms him, and it prompts him to look at Wally. Dick only sees the same emotion reflected back at him. “You’re too good to me,” he says quietly.

“It’s everything you deserve, Dick. If I’m being honest, you also deserve so much more, but I know you need time to realize that.” Wally’s expression softens further. God, he looks so pretty in the setting sun—solid, real, and there for Dick. “May I touch you?”

Dick nods, watching as Wally slowly reaches out to grab his hand. The gentle touch makes his fingers tingle, but Dick thinks it’s mostly due to the lightning cresting off Wally when he briefly blurs in place. It climbs up his wrist, disappearing before it reaches his inner elbow.

“I like that you ask,” Dick confesses, seeing another spark when Wally rubs his thumb over Dick’s knuckles. “Not many people do.” He swallows, feeling nervous when he says, “Catalina never did.”

“Yeah, well, she sucks. I’d go back in time right now to kick her ass if I wasn’t afraid of breaking the space-time continuum and ruining your life.”

Dick snorts and abruptly bursts into laughter. It’s the kind that spills out in loud peals because he can’t help himself, bringing tears to his eyes. Somehow, it also lifts a weight off his shoulders, knitting some of his fractured pain together. 

It still hurts. Dick thinks it’ll always hurt, but life doesn’t seem as terrible now that he has it all out there.

“Thanks,” he says afterward, still chuckling. “That was… yeah. Thanks.”

“Thank you for trusting me,” Wally replies, turning toward him. Their knees nearly bump, causing Dick to briefly tense, but Wally stops moving in time. “I’m glad you could get it off your chest. I know it’s been on your mind for a long time.”

“Yeah,” Dick whispers. “It has.”

He reaches out to grab one of Wally’s hands, loving how Wally stays absolutely still, even while Dick sweeps his thumb over every knuckle. This continues for some time, and Wally doesn’t move or protest, letting Dick do what he needs.

(Wally’s always been good about that. It’s one of the reasons why Dick loves him so much.)

“I want us to work,” Dick admits, now playing with Wally’s fingers. “But I’m afraid I’ll fuck things up and drive you away, and then you won’t be in my life anymore.” He leans against Wally’s side, closing his eyes. “So, I’m going to try—well, not to make things perfect first and foremost, because I sure as hell am not, but I’m going to try my damnedest to make it work.”

“Nothing’s ever perfect,” Wally replies, gently squeezing his fingers. “And that’s okay, too.” He flips his hand over after a while, and Dick starts tracing the lines of his palms. “Dick, you mean so much to me, and so does this relationship. I can’t say we won’t argue, because I have a feeling it’ll happen over some of the smallest things, but I’ll never deliberately hurt you, and I promise to spend the rest of forever making sure you feel happy and loved.”

“And I’m going to do the same,” Dick promises, dropping Wally’s hand to wrap his arms around the man. This close, Dick can see the blush bloom on Wally’s cheeks, as he has seen so many times in the past. Only, it’s paired with a loving smile, one that makes his stomach swoop like he’s making a big leap. “I’m serious about you—about us—and…” Now it’s Dick’s turn to blush. “Well, I know we’re going to last.”

“Yeah?” Wally breathes, looking so fucking happy. “Me too.”

Dick leans in to press their foreheads together, listening to the sound of the waves crashing against the nearby rocks, and enjoying the feeling of the sea breeze brushing over his skin. His skin is still pleasantly warm from his time in the sun, but what makes this moment even better is Wally returning the embrace, pulling him even closer.

“I love you,” Dick tells him because he can, because the feeling is too big for him to keep inside, and Wally deserves to hear it. “I love you, Wally West. I love you.”

“Lucky me,” Wally says, squeezing him tighter. It makes Dick laugh, sliding his fingers into Wally’s hair. “And I love you, Dick Grayson. With every cell in my body.”

When they kiss, it feels like home.