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So they've sort of been fooling around for a month, but Wally wouldn't have called it fooling around to any of his friends because they've just, you know, kissed and stuff like that and his friends at school would ask what the girl's boobs were like and if she was hot and, well, Dick is a boy. That's not to say that Wally does like him at least as much as he would a girl, but he hasn't really got any of the necessary attributes to be worth fooling around with cred with his friends.
Wally kinda hates that about high school. There's so much pressure to get good grades for college and so much pressure to have fun because these are the best years of his life (supposedly) and so much pressure to mess around with girls, so he can be cool. Wally isn't really sure he likes girls, although he does like showing off for them, but he isn't sure he doesn't like them or likes boys better anyway. He doesn't want to fool around with any of his high school friends, that's for sure. They're all really cool but also kind of gross looking, and Wally doesn't really like that scrubby teen boy thing, pimples and sweat and gym socks. He doesn't like the caked-on makeup that girls where or their perfume, stolen from their mothers. His stomach sort of flip-flops when he sees their teeny tiny short skirts, but he's pretty sure you could stick one of those on a boy (of equal or lesser attractiveness value) and Wally's dick would be just as into it.
But not having a girlfriend makes him less cool.
Wally worries about being not cool. Being not cool is not fun. He knows; he's seen the kids. He knows that he should find some girl at school and start fooling around with her, and he tells Dick about it because Dick is younger than he is and will be awed by his manly prowess. Dick sympathizes with him and tells him that he knows how he feels and wishes him luck with finding a girlfriend. Wally resolves that he will find one. He will. And then he'll be cool.
Instead, he and Dick make out.
It's pretty great. Dick is surprisingly good at it, although his kisses are sometimes messier than Wally thinks kisses are supposed to be. Dick is pretty vocal about what he likes and what he wants and what Wally does right or wrong, and that can be fun, but it's also sort of terrifying because all the girls that Wally's kissed were quiet and nervousish. As in all things, Dick is bossy and smug and learns quickly.
They start out with stolen kisses when they're alone at Headquarters, but Wally can tell pretty quickly that that's not really what Dick wants. Wally doesn't think this is a relationship. They don't go on dates and they don't hold hands and they don't have pet names for each other. Wally can't have a relationship with Dick. If he does, it'll mean he's gay, and Wally doesn't want to be. Wally wants to be normal, and if he's only normalish, he's okay with that, but he doesn't want to date a boy.
Dick doesn't want to date him either, he doesn't think, but Dick does suggest that they go for ice cream and, when Wally shoots that down because they're working (hello, earth to Robin!), suggests that Wally run out and pick up a couple of pints of Ben & Jerry's for them. Wally makes a face at that. "What are we, girls?" he asks.
"I didn't know only girls got to eat frozen deliciousness."
Wally is embarrassed. Whenever he tries to be really mature and manly around Dick, it always comes out sort of stupid, and Dick seems to know it. Wally mutters a bit, but eventually concedes the ice cream. Dick tells him to get Cherry Garcia and tries to give him money for it, but Wally doesn't let him: ice cream is on him. Dick smiles in the luminous way that he does sometimes.
When Wally gets back, Dick is still at the computer, trying to hack into something (which is, Dick tells him, definitely not totally illegal). He sets the pint in front of Dick along with a flimsy plastic spoon and sets into his own pint of Phish Food, which is chocolatey and fudgy and delicious. The ice cream was, okay, a good idea.
Dick catches his attention and starts licking the ice cream off his spoon really pointedly, swirling his tongue around the bowl of the spoon before sucking it into his mouth. Um. Wally's dick gets wind of it quickly and pricks up. No, no, this is Dick.
"Stop it. Superboy might see you."
"Oh," Dick says calmly, "do you think he'd to join us for ice cream?"
Wally makes a little noise in the back of his throat because, goddammit, Dick doesn't mean ice cream, does he? and the idea of Superboy touching Dick like that (and Dick letting him) makes him furious. "No." Wally turns away, working. Yes. He is so focused on his work.
Dick whines his name, and Wally turns around, and okay, they are sort of kissing in the main hall of the headquarters at Mount Justice, which is totally fine. Dick's mouth tastes like cherry ice cream, which Wally usually thinks is super gross, but not on Dick's tongue because then it's delicious and Dick-flavored and also Dick's tongue. Wally sort of sucks on it a little, and Dick kind of melts against him, and then he sucks on Wally's lower lip, and it's really nice, and Wally wishes they did this more often.
And then he remembers why they don't because Dick's fingers are brushing the skin right about Wally's jeans.
Wally makes a noise like "hhhhngrgh" and sidles away a little, breaking out of the kiss and letting go of Dick, and Dick looks so sad that Wally almost wants to let him, but it just feels so— Oh, he doesn't know. Wrong maybe, or maybe something else. He doesn't want that now. Not from Dick.
"What?" Dick demands, annoyed.
"What if we, I don't know, fuck things up and we're angry at each other and it gets in the way of our work as a team and, you know, someone gets hurt or dead or something bad like that? I mean, we need to put the team first." He nods quickly.
"Well, we won't. Even if it doesn’t work out, we won't let anyone get hurt."
Wally says wildly, grasping at straws, "But what if we did?!"
Dick, defeated, says, "Fine! Fine. Yes, of course, I would be incredibly upset."
"See?"
"With you for letting your anger get in the way of our work."
Uh oh. Wally has gone wrong somewhere because Dick is angry at him, and shouldn't Dick be glad that he realized about this before they did something stupid? Wally is glad he realized. But Dick just turns back to his work and starts hitting the keys too hard and Wally wants to tell him that he'll damage the computer if he keeps on like that, but he knows that Dick doesn't want to hear that. Instead, Wally wanders off and pretends he's working.
Later, when Wally is engrossed in something that is supposed to be recon work but is actually a comic book (super powers or no, that shit is cool), someone sneaks up on him (embarrassing) and sticks his tongue in Wally's ear (weird) and sort of swishes it around (ngh). "Hi, Dick."
"Want to go to the movies?"
Wally opens his mouth to make a witty comeback about the chick flick that Dick wants to take him to, but decides to say instead, "Apocalypse 3: Zombies at Daybreak came out last weekend. Have you seen it yet?"
"No." Dick coughs. "I hear Gwyneth Paltrow takes her shirt off in it, though."
Wally silently tells his dick to shut the fuck. "Yeah, okay, ten o'clock showing?"
"Earlier. Patrol tonight."
Wally grumbles. Dick swats at him for forgetting, and they sort of end up tumbling around and wrestling a little, and they're all out of breath, and Dick's cheeks are flushed, and he looks sort of sexy and gorgeous, and shut up, dick. He leans over and presses his mouth up against Dick's and wonders if he's doing the whole kissing thing wrong like he always does and then Dick's mouth moves against his and their mouths are open and wet and together and Dick's thigh is between Wally's legs and Dick is panting in Wally's ear and sucking on his earlobe and pressing up against him and it's good, so good, and Wally feels Dick palming his dick through his suit and, oh God, ohGodohgodohgod—
No, not okay, not okay. "Dick, stop."
Dick stares at him, eyes dark and filled with lust and frustration. "Did I do something wrong?" He bites his lower lip, and Wally mentally admonishes his dick for getting so excited about that (no, bad, bad). Dick's hand is still sort of hovering over Wally's crotch. Wally has to think of something. Wally has to explain.
"It's just, well—" He brushed his fingers through Dick's hair. "You're a bit young, aren't you?"
"No."
"Dick, you're thirteen."
"So?" Dick stands his ground obstinately, folding his arms over his chest.
Wally relaxes, glad that he's no longer in danger of having his libido trump his self control. "I'm fifteen! It's, you know, totally different."
Dick looks hurt, more hurt than Wally thought he would be, more hurt than Wally thinks it's fair for him to be. He is thirteen. He's just a kid. Wally certainly wasn't getting any action at thirteen. (Or fourteen. Or fifteen either for that matter until Dick came along.) Dick says, "Oh. I guess so."
"Um. Do you still want to catch a movie?"
The usual spunk has gone out of Dick. He's sulking, and there's no sulk like a Batsulk. "No. The movie's probably too mature for me."
Wally coughs. "We could go back to kissing?"
Dick looks away. "I have training to do." He scrambles to his feet. Wally can see the bulge at his groin before he turns and makes for the gymnasium. Eyeing his own erection, he decided he would have to take matters into his own hands. Not that that was anything new. Scrambling to his feet and picking up his comic book as he thinks over possible spots to jerk off, he realizes there is a crease in it. Wally is pissed.
Probably not as pissed as Dick is, though.
Dick is pretty fucking pissed as it turns out, and he doesn't so much as look at Wally twice for the next week. Wally finds it an odd relief, which is kind of pathetic, and he wonders if there's something wrong with him. Well, there is. There clearly is. Wally likes girls, but he doesn't like pussy. And that means that he's pretty much failing as a guy all around. Or, well, it means he's still a little kid. He's a boy. He thinks about boy things and reads comics and goes to see explode-y action movies without caring if Gwyneth Paltrow takes her shirt off or not.
And, okay, he makes out with his best friend and gets sort of something or other that definitely isn't turned on and it's all a mess, especially in his boxers sometimes, and Dick is supposed to be his friend, and where the hell did it all go wrong? Why can't Wally be normal and move at normal speeds and do normal things? Why does Wally have to be a fucking superhero?
Life sucks.
After patrol every night, he hits the showers and waits until everyone else has gone, wallowing in the feeling of hot water running over his skin, thinking about Gwyneth Paltrow's perky breasts until Gwyneth Paltrow turns into Jude Law turns into Dick, and Wally comes all over his hand and hates himself for it. He dries off and puts his street clothes back on and goes home.
They don’t have to patrol together until the week after, but then they're assigned to the same night, and Wally knows that he won't be able to avoid Dick or the problem. (The problem, he tries to tell himself, is that he has been made wrong, broken in the mold, is a failure. In the end, he knows at the very base of it that he feels pretty much okay. He isn't normal normal, but he knows that he isn't a freak. He doesn't feel like a freak. He feels like he likes guys, which isn't okay with him and isn't going to further his pursuit of normal, but it's sort of settling over him and into his bones. It's not just Dick. It's dick. In general.) They've spoken but not the way they usually do, and when Kaldur jokingly asks how their lovers' spat is going, it stings a little. Dick deflects the joke with too much ease, and Wally feels like all kinds of shit.
When they start patrol, the Kid Flash suit feels too big for him. He feels as though he is tripping in it, and it is trying to swallow him up, and he is going to die. They don't say anything at first. They lope along the streets of DC, looking for trouble but not finding any. After two hours, they get to talking quietly and idly without any real meaning in it. Wally can feel Dick's eyes on him, though, even when he can't see Dick looking at him. It gives him goose bumps.
Finally, Dick touches his elbow. Wally shivers, and the feeling settles in his groin, and he tries so, so hard not to be turned on. Dick whispers into his ear, "I think there's someone lurking near that bank across the street."
Oh.
There is someone lurking near the bank, and they watch him until he realizes that they're watching him. He scuttles off into the darkness, and though they follow him down the alley, it's obvious after a few minutes that they've lost him. Dick huffs with frustration. Wally says, "He was probably harmless anyway."
Dick looks at him.
Wally looks at Dick.
For someone without super speed, Dick shoves Wally up against the dirty brick wall pretty fast. Dick stands on tiptoe and is almost Wally's height, and Wally laughs at him, and Dick puts his arms around Wally's neck and makes Wally sort of hold him up. Dick is compact but surprisingly heavy in Wally's arms. He sets Dick down gently and bends down, so he can kiss Dick without anyone being on tiptoe. They shouldn't be doing this, and he knows how Dick will want this to end (but he can't, Wally tells himself, he can't possibly, not out in the open, not like this). He can feel Dick pressing little butterfly-like kisses to his neck, his tongue sliding under the spandex. Dick's hands settle firmly on Wally's waist. It's a small comfort. Wally pets Dick's hair and presses kisses to the top of his head and feels silly and stupid, and then Dick is kissing him again and it doesn't matter so much. The kisses are quick and breathless, and Wally can feel the blood hammering in his head. Dick presses up against him, warm and small, and Wally pulls him close in an awkward, intimate embrace. He can feel Dick's erection against his thigh, and okay, he'd be lying if he'd didn't recognize that he was shoved embarrassingly against Dick's incredibly hard, admittedly well-defined, Bat-training-works-wonders abs, and Dick is rubbing up against him, and why weren't the spandex suits designed to be total buzzkills or something? His was certainly designed as a cockblock, but he's pretty sure that the Robin suit wasn't, which he doesn't entirely want to explore the implications of.
Although that might be partly because Dick is cupping the bulge in his suit and then stroking it and then, no, no, this isn't happening— And Wally is standing in the middle of an alley in Washington, DC, with his best friend kneeling in front of him in the mud licking at the hard-on he wishes he didn't have through the spandex suit that he really, really hates (and really, really appreciates) at that moment. He wants this, and he doesn't, and he's excited, and he's scared, and he realizes that—
"Dick, stop."
Dick stands up. He looks like he's about to cry, Wally thinks, and there are mud stains on the knees of his suit. "What?"
Wally tells him the truth. "I don't want to."
"Oh."
"Yeah. I'm, uh—" Wally doesn't look at Dick as he says, "not ready."
The hurt goes out of Dick's eyes. "That's okay."
"Thanks."
Dick squeezes Wally's hand, and Wally feels very young and very old and very loved all at the same time. The fear goes out of him.