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a healthy amount of denial

Summary:

Dick has Flag exactly where he wants him, but Flag hasn’t noticed yet.

Work Text:

As the offspring of a family with a long tradition of knights, Flag was born to become one. It wasn’t something to question. Without a doubt, from the moment he had learnt to talk, he called himself a Royal Knight, certain that he would dedicate his life to protect the Wayne Kingdom. 

As the years passed by, the heavy training became an essential part of his routine, and the pain in his body stopped bothering him. If anything, the pain was a reminder that his wishes were closer and closer to be a reality. 

His mind was focused on only one thing: To be the Head of the next Royal Knight generation. The future protectors of the Crown. And nothing and no one could get in his way. Absolutely no one.

No one

Except, of course, that life hardly ever went as planned. Destiny had its mysterious ways to test his patience with nothing less than the heir of the Crown: Prince Richard Grayson—Wayne and his shameless flirting.

Needless to say, Flag had been easy prey to his stunning beauty and the grace of his dancing, taking his breath away anytime the Prince drew his sword to fight. Possessing an unforgettable gleaming smile, unwavering even after beating everyone—including Flag—in archery and duels, the Prince had conquered his lust and then his heart. 

It all started with his unusual decision of joining the commoner knights in training. It was a risky decision since, among the other knights, Richard was untouchable. At first, nobody had wanted to fight. Who would dare to hurt the royal heir? Who had the guts to accept the consequences if something went wrong?

Yes, Rick Flag and a bad habit of his that he called 'my insolent personality.'

It turned out, his bravery (or foolishness, some said) had paid off. The Prince preferred to be referred by the name 'Dick', and even if sometimes he was, indeed, a dick, overall, he was one of the nicest persons Rick had met. Kind and proud. The Prince was a joy to have around, always insisting to be called Dick and be treated as an equal.

"I don’t want privileges," he said the first day of training, and he kept on saying a variation of the same phrase every day until the trainers and the other knights started believing him. 

But Flag was hard to convince. The Pretty Prince (as he usually called him) could never be their equal, regardless of what Dick said. So, even if he kept on messing with him in duels, seducing him with his ocean eyes, Flag stood like a stone, immovable on his decision not to let his guard down.

But Flag wasn’t ready for the striking force the Prince was. Always kind and proud. The Prince understood the honour code of the Knight Court, and little by little, he proved himself as both talented and hardworking, earning the respect of everyone. Absolutely everyone.

Yes, including Flag.

What impressed him the most was that the Prince never tried pulling rank on them, honouring his promise to be equal. However, there was one thing that Dick didn’t mind using for his advantage: His pretty face. 

With his pretty face and his charming personality, Dick broke the rules of the Royal Code, testing how long it would take for the King to reprimand him. Or at least, that was the only explanation he had for what Dick had asked him:

"Come with me to the Autumn Dance," he said with confidence, still smiling as if there wasn’t anything wrong with his behaviour.

A couple of knights gasped behind them, but no one dared to speak, less to contradict the Prince.

Flag, on the other hand, he couldn’t care less. This nonsense wasn’t going to happen. He would not become part of the Prince’s pranks. "Have you lost your goddam mind, Dick?" He said loud and clear, just in case Dick’s petulant ears couldn’t listen to reason.

"You’re right. My bad," Dick chuckled, turning his face to laugh with their comrades. 

This brat, he really knows no limits, Flag thought, naively declaring his victory before the battle had even begun.

Getting down on one knee, Dick looked up to him and asked again: "Sir Flag, would you do me the honour of being my date this Autumn Dance?"

Little shit, Flag cursed in his mind, moving his lips, so Dick could read them and know firsthand what Flag really thought of his stunt.

"Just say, yes, Flag!" Roy Harper, the best friend of the Prince, who was clearly playing his part in this prank, screamed from everyone to hear. He knew exactly what he was doing, though. If they attracted more people, and they saw the Prince on one knee, and Flag refusing his good intentions, his club of fans—and maybe the Ling—would ask for his head.

"Dick, stand up," Flag said through his teeth, holding back his annoyance with a tight smile.

"Only if you say yes, Flaggy," Dick said that stupid nickname with that stupidly soft voice that Rick did not like. No, he didn’t. The sound of Prince Richard’s voice wasn’t the best melody he had heard in his life.

Absolutely no.

"Flag?"

Alright, he blushed slightly. Just slightly, and only because the Prince was so close to his crotch.

"Just shut up and—"

"Kiss me?" Dick teased, fluttering his eyelashes.

"No!" You are a clown went unsaid, and maybe, Flag would tell Dick later what a pretty clown he was. 

But only later. 

And maybe.

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