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“Unnh…” Robin groaned as he tugged his arm, slowly, slowly, through the sleeve of his uniform.
He stopped after another second, the pain flaring so sharply that his vision went momentarily black. He slumped against the cold, tile wall, panting as his vision spun. His skin felt sticky as the steam from the running showers around the corner mingled with the dirt and grime covering him from head to toe. He was never volunteering to take the sewer route again. Kaldur could go himself.
The pain subsided. Robin looked down at his arm, wrapped in a fresh brace, and scowled. Stupid Killer Croc. Stupid sewers. Stupid pipes. Canary had tried to console him, saying how lucky he was that it was only a fracture and not a break, but he didn’t feel lucky. Mostly, he felt sticky and hurt.
“One more try,” he whispered to himself. He straightened up, bracing against the wall, and tried to pull his arm through his sleeve again.
As soon as his vision began to spin he stopped, growling wordlessly.
“Uh, hey?”
Robin’s head snapped up. He relaxed as soon as he saw that it was only Wally. Then a new sort of tension crept in as he realized that the speedster was only wearing a towel and he could see every droplet running down his abs. He made a conscious effort not to react.
“Hey,” he repeated.
Wally shifted, running a long-fingered hand through his hair. Fuck, that was hot. Luckily, Wally distracted him a moment later by talking, before he could start drooling or something equally embarrassing.
“I, uh, heard about what happened in the sewers. Sorry about your arm.”
“I’m going to skin Killer Croc the next time I see him,” Dick mumbled with no heat.
Wally laughed, leaning against the lockers like the cold didn’t bother his bare skin. Which it probably didn’t. Speedsters tended to run hot.
“No, you won’t.”
“No, I won’t. Sorry, I’m just frustrated. I haven’t fractured anything since I was five and still learning to swing on the trapeze.”
“You were on the trapeze when you were five?” he asked incredulously.
Robin grinned. “Actually, when I was three. My family starts in the family business when we’re young, flexible, and light.”
“Right, of course.” He grinned back and it was like everything else just faded away. It was just the two of them in various stages of nudity, talking and laughing the same way they had since they met three years ago.
Dick had never met another person he’d connected with as quickly and easily as Wally West.
The redhead shifted, his gaze falling somewhere south of Robin’s shoulder. “Hey, uh, I kinda couldn’t help but notice that you’re having some trouble getting your uniform off. I mean, I remember how much the spandex sucked when my arm was broken, so I’m here to offer any assistance. Ya know, if you want it.”
Dick let his head fall back against the lockers. “Thanks, Walls, but I don’t think I can even hold a shampoo bottle right now. I might just head home and skip the shower.”
“No!” he blurted out, too fast. A blush crept over his face as Dick raised a slow eyebrow, but he added, “I mean, don’t go. The whole team was going to spend the weekend together, here. I know you got Batman to approve.”
“Yeah, I know, but—”
“I could help you!”
Dick stared at him blankly. Wally looked hesitant for a second, then straightened up, his usual cheerful façade in place.
“I could help you shower. That way you can stay without smelling like a sewer.”
A snort ripped out of him before he could stop it. He nodded. “Yeah. Okay, you can help me.” There was an awkward pause for a moment. “So, uh…?”
Wally took that as his cue. He stepped forward, gentle hands helping Robin out of one sleeve and then the other, easing it over his brace with the utmost care. It still burned, but it was tolerable this time, and he was glad to get out of the smelly, dirty, over armor. Wally helped him with his belt next, then boots. Dick had only managed to get his cape, mask, and gloves off himself, which was kind of embarrassing, but not with Wally. They’d been in enough weird, scary, and uncomfortable situations that Dick couldn’t feel embarrassed around him anymore. Much.
“Uh, how does your under layer come off?” Wally asked, fingers skimming around his waist.
Dick suddenly became aware of how very close they were standing. He filed that away for later examination and focused on the question. The skin tight black under layer to his uniform was posing a problem. It was skintight, so the only discernible way to get out of it was by lifting over the head, which wasn’t possible right now on account of his brace.
“There are latches on the side. You might have to feel around for them,” he answered.
“Right.” His fingers raised, brushing against his side. Dick shivered, but Wally didn’t seem to notice. He found the latches and began undoing them with deft precision. “Why does your spandex have these?”
“It's not spandex, it’s specialized Kevlar.”
“Right, right. Anyways, why does your spandex have latches, Boy Wonder?”
He rolled his eyes. “Because B and I anticipated that one of us might get injured and might need an easy way to get out of our uniforms.”
“You Bats. Always prepared for everything.”
The final latch unhooked and then Robin was down to just his pants. Wally looked up at him. They were almost the same height. Robin had shot up a few inches in the last year, but he still wasn’t quite taller than his best friend. Who was standing really close, wearing only a towel.
“I, uh, I can take care of my pants myself,” he offered.
Wally took a step back, as if he had realized the same thing. “Right. I’ll just go start the shower, then. Hopefully Zatanna didn’t use up all the warm water.”
He was gone in, well, a flash, and Dick was alone again. His arm was aching dully, but at least his shirt was off. It wasn’t comfortable, but he was able to slide off his pants with just one hand. He hesitated when he got to his boxers. He didn’t want to shower with them, and Wally was probably not wearing any, either. They’d seen each other fully naked plenty of times. But this felt...different. More intimate. Usually when they showered, they didn’t do it together and alone.
He set his jaw and then yanked his boxers down. He was being ridiculous. It was just Wally, and it would only be weird if he made it weird.
He hid any insecurities behind his performer’s mask as he navigated his way out of the rows and lockers and discarded towels to the showers.
The Team showers were undeniably built by Batman, which Dick knew both because they looked exactly like the ones in the Batcave and because they had been built to the maximum efficiency, with a lack of concern for anything else. This meant that it was a square room lined with showerheads, no curtains or any kind of barrier to provide privacy. This was probably not a problem when the League had been stationed in the Cave, but for the Team, which was built of teenagers...well, it could get awkward at times. The girls and boys often showered in turns, although after particularly gross missions no one got picky.
Robin, personally, had never really minded the open floor plan until this exact moment, when he became painfully aware that it was just him and Wally with literally nothing else in the box-like room to distract him.
He didn’t let his mask break, though, even when Wally looked up and smiled at him, somewhere between friendly and sheepish. Well, at least he wasn’t the only one aware of how weird this was.
“Hey. You’re in luck, Zatanna didn’t totally use up the hot water,” Wally chirped. “Still might want to make this quick, though, just in case.”
Dick smiled and stepped closer. “I’ll shower in cold water if I have to. I just don’t want to smell like Killer Croc and sewers anymore.” His nose wrinkled. “Why do villains always have to use sewers? It’s so gross and unsanitary.”
The speedster quirked an eyebrow up, eyes smiling. “I don’t think Killer Croc really cares about his hygiene anymore.”
“It’s still so gross.”
His grumbling didn’t put a damper on Wally at all, who was very used to listening to his grumbling. With a silent communication that only came from working and training together for so long, Wally stepped back to allow Dick to slide under the spray. The hot water hit his tense, sore, muscles and an involuntary groan spilled out of his lips. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back to wash the grime off his face, both from the shower and from the spirit gum that held his mask to his face. Without opening his eyes, he reached out and grabbed a soap bar from Wally and soaped up his hands. It was somewhat hard with only one hand, but he started scrubbing, especially at his arms and neck that had been the most exposed in his costume.
He heard the pop of a container being opened behind him even with the water pounding around him which was why he was unsurprised when he sensed Wally sliding up behind him. His heart began to pound though, as he realized just how close he was, the heat of his body even more intense than the heat of the water.
“I’m, uh—” a voice said in Dick’s ear; he only managed to reign in his surprise because of his years of training. Wally’s breath rolled over his damp skin. “I’m going to shampoo your hair. If that’s okay?”
“Yeah,” he replied, hoping that Wally couldn’t hear how shaky his reply was, eyes still pressed closed. He could feel every drop of water on his skin and every spot where they brushed together accidentally. “Go for it.”
“Right.”
Gentle, nimble fingers spread through his hair, against his scalp, warm and so, so gentle. Dick’s good arm fell to his side, limp, as his attention narrowed to the feeling of Wally’s soft ministrations. It felt so nice, especially when it contrasted so sharply with the dull throbbing of his broken arm. Dick could imagine, like this, with his eyes closed and his head being slowly massaged, that it was his mom washing his hair after their performance, before she toweled him off and tucked him into bed.
He hadn’t been cared for like this, at least while he was conscious, in years.
Wally was silent, too, as if he was also being affected. Or maybe Dick was reading into it too much.
It wasn’t easy, and it wasn’t something he did often, but he allowed his awareness to fade. He stopped worrying about Wally and their positions and if Bruce would be mad at him for getting hurt and the calculus homework he hadn’t finished yet and the text from Babs he still hadn’t answered and the new staff he wouldn’t be able to use and let himself bask in the water and the overwhelming tenderness of Wally’s hands.
He hardly noticed as Wally moved his attention to the rest of his body after a few minutes. The soap was removed from his limp hand and then gentle, efficient circles were being rubbed over his back and shoulders. He did note as if from afar that Wally seemed to be extra careful not to jostle his broken arm, but the thought floated away a moment later.
Dick only snapped back to awareness when Wally laid a hand on the small of his back. His alarm faded quickly though, as he realized his friend was just prodding him forward, under the direct spray, to wash off the soap and shampoo. He allowed Wally to move and position him, turning and moving at his directions. After the last of the suds had been combed out of his hair, Wally took a step back and Dick was intensely aware of the sudden absence of warmth.
“There we go,” Wally murmured under his breath, like he was talking to a pet and not a person. Dick was too satisfied to mind.
The speedster turned off the showerhead and before Dick could so much as shiver, Wally flickered and was standing in front of him with a large, fluffy towel. He moved forward, as if to help dry him off, but the smaller teen threw up a hand and paused him in his tracks.
“I can do it.”
Wally handed over the towel without a word, despite the fact that Dick had been all but listless a moment ago. It wasn’t smooth, but Dick managed to dry himself off adequately and then wrapped the towel around his waist, as Wally had already done for himself without Dick noticing.
“Thank you,” Dick said, voice uncharacteristically soft.
Wally grinned, but there was something softer about it than usual. Maybe it was missing it’s mischievous edge, or maybe it was that flickering emotion in his eyes, that he kept hiding from Dick’s scrutiny with a tilt of his head.
“‘Course. Do you want some help getting dressed?”
Dick nodded, relieved that Wally hadn’t made him ask. Unfortunately, he’d inherited Bruce’s reluctance to admit weakness, even to his best friend, but Wally knew him well enough to see through him.
They walked back into the locker room shoulder to shoulder, steam swirling around their feet and their footsteps echoing oddly in the tile chamber. Wally zipped ahead and by the time Dick sat down on the bench in front of his locker his friend had already assembled a full outfit for him: his favorite pair of jeans with a hole in one knee, his slightly oversized Gotham Knights jersey, fresh underwear and socks, and, of course, his sunglasses.
“Have I mentioned that you’re literally the best friend anyone could have?” The words slipped out of his mouth without intention, but he didn’t regret them.
Wally paused in the process of readying the jersey. “Do you have a concussion, too?”
“No!” he denied, frowning. “I meant that. Walls, you’re the best.”
“Thanks?”
Dick made a noise of inarticulate frustration. He popped back to his feet so quickly his arm throbbed, but he ignored it as he crowded towards Wally, forcing the speedster to look at him.
“Besides all the other times you have been a way better friend than I deserve, today you helped me undress, literally washed my hair, and now you’re helping me get dressed again when all I have is a broken arm—”
“You say that like a broken arm is no big deal and you didn’t literally fight a mutant crocodile man in the sewers and get your bone snapped in half.”
Dick ignored this interruption as he continued saying, “—and I know sometimes I’m crappy at emotional stuff, but I just wanted to say that you are a wonderful friend and thank you.”
Wally inhaled sharply, which also made Dick realize that they were practically chest to chest, both still undressed, and Wally’s lips looked really soft. Then there seemed to be only one thing left to do.
He tilted his head back and reached up with his good hand, cupping the back of Wally’s head and guided their lips together. It was chaste, no more than a few seconds, with none of the passionate, open mouthed desperation that Dick was used to in his partners from school and Gotham, but this outranked all of those brief hookups by a mile, because this was his best friend, this was Wally, and even with this brief, first barely-a-kiss Dick could feel the love and care radiating from it, with the same tenderness Wally had when he washed his hair.
It was perfect and breathtaking. They didn’t really pull apart, either. Their foreheads pressed together, their breaths intermingling and both of their eyes were shut, hands touching bare skin.
“Was that a thank you?” Wally whispered.
“If you want it to be.”
“And if I want it to be something else?”
Dick’s chest tightened. He could feel hope taking root in his heart even as his brain tried to cut it down. “What do you want it to be?”
Wally pulled back and Dick reluctantly opened his eyes. He was surprised when a hand cupped his cheek, thumb brushing over his cheekbone, but he smiled up at Wally. Green eyes bored into him, and this time they didn’t flicker away when they met Dick’s blue eyes. This time, the young acrobat could see the love and desire in Wally’s eyes that washed away any of his fears and reservations.
“Not sure,” Wally admitted. “But I’m willing to try a few things out.”
And then Wally grinned and Dick grinned back and they both knew that this would be perfect, whatever the hell it was.
“Sounds like a plan.”