Work Text:
- On a dare (making $5 off Roy)
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Part One:
Roy 16
Wally 15
Dick 13
--
Wally skidded over to Rob and Roy. (Heh. Rob Roy.)
“Wanna bet?” Rob smirked.
“You know what? Yeah. I do.” Roy crossed his arms.
“How much?” Rob asked.
“How much what for what?” Wally asked. He propped an elbow on Rob’s shoulder – just to remind Rob how short he was.
“Five bucks,” Roy said.
“To split? Or five each?” Rob asked.
“I’m betting with you, not him,” Roy said.
“Okay, fine, act like I’m not right here. That’s cool,” Wally gave an exaggerated sigh.
“That’s not fair. Wally, tell him that’s not fair,” Rob said.
“Oh, sure, now that you want me to back you up, you’ll act like I’m here,” Wally sighed, a bit more exaggerated than the last one.
“Tell him, Walls,” Rob said.
And how could Wally say no to him?
“It’s not fair, Roy,” Wally said, completely deadpan.
“Yeah. So, it should be five each,” Rob said.
“Fine. Five bucks – each – says you won’t kiss Wally on the mouth, because that’s gay and teenaged boys don’t kiss each other unless they’re actually gay,” Roy said. He turned to smirk at Wally.
“Oh, that all?” Wally asked.
“Right?” Rob scoffed. He shrugged off Wally’s elbow, then turned and grabbed him by the face. “I’m thinking tacos.”
“Tac—” Wally managed, then was on the receiving end of an aggressive, platonic kiss from his best friend. Ten, maybe fifteen, seconds later, Rob released him. “Uh. What—”
“Tacos,” Rob repeated, turning back to Roy. “I want tacos.” He offered Roy his hand, palm up. “Pony up, Roy.”
“You’re telling me that that was entirely platonic? This feels like a setup,” Roy said.
Wally was still reeling a little. Sure, he and Rob were a bit touchy-feely, sure, but they’d never kissed before. And since when could Rob kiss like that, anyway? Weren’t they supposed to tell each other stuff like that – like hey, I made out with this one cute girl and I think I just levelled up or something?
“What? Should I kiss you so you can be sure it’s platonic?” Rob scoffed. “Maybe I just don’t give a shit, Roy.”
“Oh, hell no, I don’t wanna kiss you, Rob – no offense – you're like twelve.”
“I’m thirteen! You’re only three years older than me, asshole,” Rob said, but he was laughing.
Wally reentered the world of the consciously present. “Hey, you’re missing out,” he smirked over at Roy.
“I’ve been set up,” Roy repeated. But he put ten dollars in Rob’s still-outstretched hand. “I don’t know how you planned it, but you did. You must have. Who’s that okay kissing their best friend?”
“I’m okay kissing anyone in my age-bracket, Roy,” Rob stuck his tongue out.
“Very mature.” Roy rolled his eyes.
--
- Spin the bottle (Dick’s bday)
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Part Two:
Roy 18
Babs 17
Wally 17
Dick 15
--
“Don’t you think it’s silly?” Babs asked.
“Spin-the-bottle? It’s a tradition,” Dick said.
“We’re not kids, though,” Babs took the bottle from him.
“What, you don’t want a shot at kissing some pretty people without any of the expectation to go any further or start dating?” Dick asked.
“Yeah, sure. But it’s not like spin-the-bottle's gonna net me a kiss from Bette or something,” Babs scoffed. “This is probably the most herteronormative game there is, Dick.”
Dick put on a thoughtful face. “It doesn’t have to be.”
“You’ll scare away your straight friends,” Babs joked.
“I have straight friends?” Dick gasped.
“I mean. Wally,” Babs snickered.
“So he continues to say,” Dick snorted. “Okay, spin-the-bottle, and re-spins only if people are really uncomfy with a result.”
“You just want to kiss Roy.”
“That’s slander,” Dick snatched the bottle back. “Not that I’d say no.”
“You and your redheads,” Babs shook her head.
--
Somehow, Dick managed to get all his friends to agree to the game of “bi spin-the-bottle." Even Roy – who still insisted that Dick was a baby – agreed to the stupid game.
The bottle was determined to keep the game as het as possible. Which was deeply disappointing.
Then the spin-the-bottle gods had some mercy on him and, when Dick spun for his own third time, the mouth of the bottle pointed irrefutably at Wally. Not Artemis on his left, or Donna on his right. Wally.
Dick was only just mature enough not to cheer for the bottle’s first queer lean.
“Bottle’s still on easy mode, I see,” Wally grinned.
“Easy mode,” Dick scoffed. “Just because I’ve kissed you before—”
“Since when?” Babs interrupted. “You’re supposed to tell me stuff like that!”
“Shut up,” Dick elbowed her, laughing. “It was like two years ago. Tacos were on Roy, that day.”
Roy flipped him off. “You two gonna get it over with or are you getting cold feet?”
Wally and Dick crawled into the middle – like each pair previous – and kissed over the stupid bottle. It was awkward, both of them craning their necks almost like kissing someone taller, but it wasn’t bad. A bit of adjusting, heads tilted opposite ways, made it good, though.
“That’s ten seconds, already.” Babs unfolded her legs to nudge Dick. “Now you’re just holding up the game.”
Babs’s nudge overbalanced Dick a bit, breaking the kiss. “Rude,” he tossed over his shoulder.
Wally chuckled, kissed the top of Dick’s head, then went back to his spot in the circle of teenagers.
--
- Pissing-off-a-homophobe PDA
--
Part Three:
Wally 20
Dick 18
Jaime 14
Bart 13
--
Jaime and Bart were babies, you know? Babies.
It didn’t matter a whit that Dick had been thirteen and already on the hero scene. It didn’t matter that he’d been ten and already on the hero scene. It was just different, almost a decade into his life as a hero.
Jaime and Bart were babies.
And baby gays, besides that. (Baby bi, in Jaime’s case.)
Dick’s heart did a little dance whenever they gave each other their little smiles, or held hands. They were just... adorable. Pure. It was the cutest form of puppy love that Dick had ever seen in his life. He wanted to bottle the feeling he got when he saw them together.
But, of course, nothing good and pure can exist without something gross and evil trying to smoosh it, right? Trying. And hopefully failing. But... yeah. It sucked.
They were out together – Team 1.0 with Team 2.0 – just having a “team bonding” kind of experience around Happy Harbour.
A mom off to one side guided her kid away from them. It could have been because they were a bunch of teenagers – like, a bunch of teenagers – wandering around in a single, kinda overwhelming group. But Dick could see how the mom took a double-take at Jaime and Bart, who were minding their business and holding hands.
If that were the only person, Dick would have ignored it – sure, it was lousy of the woman, but at least it was quietly lousy, you know?
She wasn’t the only one, though.
There was a man, glaring daggers. His face was going redder and redder and redder. He was definitely going to explode, and he was going to explode at Jaime and Bart. Which was about as far from ideal as it could possibly be.
“Walls,” Dick hissed. He grabbed for Wally – missed twice – then pulled him in close to whisper conspiratorially. “Homophobe, two o’clock. No. Wait. Ten o’clock, not two. Wrong side of the clock.”
“Yeah, I see him. And?” Wally responded.
Dick held Wally back, so that they were a bit separate from the larger group.
“Can’t stop people from being dicks, unfortunately. It’s not illegal,” Wally went on.
“I was thinking about redirecting his focus, give him something to really be pissed at,” Dick said.
“Cool. How?”
“Wanna makeout in public like stupid teenagers for a bit?” Dick asked.
“You’re such a nerd,” Wally turned to him, though, and initiated a kiss.
Dick could swear he heard the angry-looking mid-forties dude splutter in outrage at the sight of two guys making out in his public part. “His” public park, like it wasn’t a public park in the public, belonging to the public.
Dick kissed back and hoped the other Team 1.0s were steering the Team 2.0s away from the possible blast radius of the homophobe’s near-inevitable explosion.
This had to be in the top ten of good ideas Dick had had.
--
- As an undercover fake couple
--
Part Four:
Wally 23
Dick 21
--
“Trendy young gay couple,” Wally scoffed. He picked at the extremely loud Hawaiian shirt he was wearing. “Look at this. How is this trendy?”
“I think it looks fine,” Dick said.
“Right, almost forgot – you actually like the loud, colourful stuff.”
Dick stuck his tongue out.
“I still don’t think this is trendy. Shouldn’t I be dressed like Steve Jobs or something?”
“I don’t think that’s quite what was meant by trendy, either.”
“So, you admit this is most definitely not trendy!” Wally grinned.
Dick rolled his eyes behind his obnoxious aviator sunglasses.
The setting was a sort of queer-exclusive cruise type thing. The idea was to be as boringly queer as possible – two married gay dudes – to minimize scrutiny. There were het-appearing couples on the cruise, some where one or both partners were bi, trans, or otherwise queer in ways that weren’t as obvious as, say, two dudes wearing matching wedding rings and matching awful Hawaiian shirts.
“The mark,” Dick murmured.
Wally diverted his attention across the pool deck to find the man they were after. One of the cruise’s many crewmembers, mostly playing waiter and bartender. The League was pretty sure he’d abscond when the cruiseship stopped to refuel.
“Don’t stare,” Dick reminded him.
“I know,” Wally said.
He wasn’t even a big fish or anything – he was escaping the mob, with just enough blackmail material to keep the mob on their toes. B wanted the blackmail, preferably not attached to the man himself. Dick and Wally were supposed to try and get at it, wherever he kept it.
Queer cruise was incidental in the whole thing.
A photographer walked from a cute polycule and over to Dick and Wally. “Picture to commemorate the cruise?” the perky photographer asked. They wore a they/them pin, helpfully.
“Sure,” Dick said, immediately. “I love your hair.”
The photographer grinned. “Thanks, did it myself,” they said. They raked their fingers through their hot pink hair. “How do you want the picture?”
Dick and Wally glanced at each other. Wally shrugged.
“A kiss would be cute,” the photographer cajoled.
Dick laughed. “Sure, why not.”
Wally shrugged, smiling.
They kissed – softly – as the photographer took the shot. Behind them would be so much ocean, spreading out toward the horizon forever and ever.
Dick drew back, laughing.
--
- As an official couple
--
Part Five:
Wally 25
Dick 23
--
“You know, we kiss a lot for two guys that aren’t dating,” Dick said.
Wally hummed in acknowledgement. He was playing a videogame on the big screen of the Mountain (which the author decided just wasn’t blown up, ever, because it was easier – good old-fashion mid-fic retcon, right?), Dick was using Wally’s lap as a pillow and reading case files off a tablet.
“Don’t you think so?” Dick asked.
“No? Yes?” Wally frowned, but kept his eyes on the Trilla boss fight he was doing in Jedi Fallen Order. It was his seventh attempt at beating Trilla in that particular boss fight.
“Friends don’t usually do that much kissing,” Dick said.
“Are you breaking up with me?” Wally asked.
“The point is that we’re not dating, Wally. I can’t break up with you if we’re not together,” Dick said. He sighed and put the tablet down.
“Are you trying to get more kisses? Less? No—fewer.” Wally cursed as he used his last stim, in-game, and Trilla took another chunk of his life right after. Then he paused the game and turned to look down at Dick instead. “What’s up?”
“You,” Dick grinned.
“Nerd.”
“Yeah, I know,” Dick laughed. “I like kissing you, though.”
“Sure, I’m a good kisser,” Wally waggled his eyebrows.
“Now who’s the nerd?”
“You’re a pretty good kisser, too. Is there a point to all this?” Wally asked.
“I dunno. I was just wondering – you're bi, I’m pan. Why haven’t we tried dating?”
“I dunno. Do you wanna try dating? I thought you weren’t interested.”
“Oh, I thought you weren’t interested, really. Are you?”
“Interested in you?” Wally laughed. “Of course. Who isn’t? When you hit that last growth spurt...” Wally fanned himself a little, playful, then laughed and dropped his hand.
“Really?” Dick blinked up at Wally.
“Uh. Yeah? Don’t you own a mirror? You were awful for my dating life – I swear no one in my school was half as hot as you, and then I was in college and, dude. You missed your real calling – model.”
“Wait,” Dick sat up, then turned to Wally. “Why haven’t we dated, then? Why didn’t I know you thought I was hot?”
“Didn’t you?” Wally asked.
“No?”
Wally raised his eyebrows. “No kidding. Arty said I was, like, super obvious.”
“I guess you’re a bit of my blind spot?”
“Babs and Kori both had to make the first move, right?”
“Yeah?”
“Maybe you’re the blind spot?”
“Okay, but. Did you not know I liked you?” Dick asked.
“Uh.”
“That’s a no. You were my first crush, Wally,” Dick snorted.
“No shit?”
Dick shook his head, grinning. “Man, maybe we should be dating. How do you do that? Go from, like, being friends to dating?”
“Kissing and holding hands and cuddling?” Wally suggested.
“By that barometer, we’ve always been dating,” Dick said.
“I dunno. Wanna go on a date? Like. Proper one. Dinner and a movie or something.”
“Sounds a bit cliché. And you know how I love clichés. Sure. Does... that mean we’re dating?”
“I guess?”
Dick and Wally sat there for a long moment.
“I don’t feel much different, honestly,” Dick said.
“Maybe we have been dating all this time,” Wally suggested.
Dick snorted, then scooted in close. “Well, I guess it’s time to christen the relationship, anyway,” he put his hands on Wally’s face, gently, “If that’s okay?”
“Sure,” Wally said. But he dipped in close and kissed Dick, rather than waiting for Dick to kiss him.
--
+1. Wedding uwu
--
+1:
Wally 29
Dick 27
Jason 23
Tim 20
Damian 13
Terry 5
--
“Do you, Wallace Rudolph West—”
Dick snorted.
“Really?” Wally hissed at him.
“I’m sorry,” Dick whispered back. “It’s just... Rudolph.”
“I hate you,” Wally snickered, too.
“Ya done?” Jason asked. He was trying very hard to be a proper priest, since he was there as Reverend Peters, not as “brother of the groom,” Jason Todd. “Do you, Wallace Rudolph West, take this man to be your lawful wedded husband, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?”
“I do – and then some,” Wally said.
Dick snickered again. “Three strike rule?”
“Sure. If one of us dies three times, we’ll consider the wedding contract fulfilled,” Wally laughed, a bit too loud.
Out the corner of Dick’s eye, he could see Tim playing wedding photographer. The
Jason cleared his throat.
“And do you, Richard John Grayson, take this man to be your lawful wedded husband, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?”
“I do – and then some,” Dick said, purposefully echoing Wally’s words.
“Cool,” Jason said, Reverend mask slipping a bit. “Who gives away this man?” Jason motioned to Wally.
Iris, Hal, and Barry stood up together. “We do,” Iris said. Because, of course, Rudy wasn’t there. He’d actually been invited to the wedding, but not as a “father of the groom” or anything. Iris had more a right to give Wally away, if anyone.
(Wally’s mom did actually stand in the back of the venue, though, watching – Dick was glad she’d come to the wedding, but it sucked that she looked ready to bolt the whole time.)
“And who gives away this man?” Jason motioned toward Dick.
Bruce stood up, then rolled his eyes and tugged at Clark, to stand with him. Clark, visibly flustered, stood next to him. “We do,” Bruce said.
“Cool,” Jason said. “And who has the rings?”
“Me!” Terry jumped up, hand in the air and face far too business-like and serious. Damian immediately had a hand on his shoulder, to keep him from darting away.
“Please bring up the rings, Terry,” Jason said.
Damian, scowling the whole way, walked Terry up to the front, then Terry held up the ring box. He was so serious. Ridiculously serious.
“Thanks, kiddo,” Jason said. He took the box from Damian, shoving his binder under his arm, then opened the box for Dick and Wally.
Inside the box was two rings – the wedding rings they’d worn for the undercover mission, years back, actually. They were real, after all. Bruce didn’t half-ass the props for undercover missions, after all. They’d been engraved on the inside, though – their initials.
Wally and Dick took a ring, each.
“Okay, now repeat after me,” Jason said, turning to Wally.
“Okay,” Wally said. He took Dick’s hand in his own, holding the ring in his other hand.
“’With this ring,’” Jason said.
“With this ring,” Wally repeated.
“’I, Wallace Rudolph West,” Jason said.
Wally repeated after him. (Even though Dick snickered across from him.)
“’Vow to love and honour you,’” Jason said.
Wally repeated after him.
“’From this moment forward,’” Jason ended.
“From this moment forward,” Wally said, grin spreading across his face giddily.
“You may put the ring on his finger – or something,” Jason fumbled for the binder, inside which he had the whole script for the ceremony, of course. “Yeah, that sounds right.” He cleared his throat and turned to Dick. “Now, you get to repeat after me,” Jason said.
“Okay,” Dick said.
Jason repeated the same words, but for the exchange of Dick’s name with Wally’s name.
“I pronounce you husband and husband, you may now kiss,” Jason said.
Dick wrapped his arms around Wally’s neck and drew him down into a long, languid kiss. Wally wrapped his arms around Dick’s waist. Their audience cheered. Bart had apparently followed through on his threat of purchasing and setting off confetti poppers. Poppers full of biodegradable confetti, hopefully – otherwise Bart would be on confetti detail afterwards.
By the sounds of it, Bart had managed to convince a bunch of people to set off confetti poppers with him.
Dick withdrew from Wally reluctantly. “You know, we’re running out of first kiss opportunities,” he said.
“I didn’t realize you were keeping track,” Wally laughed.