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Wally's head pounded.
It had to be the music. He wasn't tipsy, not really . They were still pretty sure he couldn't get drunk, but downing several shots in succession seemed to do the trick for a minute or two, sending a pleasant buzz between his ears before his metabolism dissolved the feeling.
But he felt good, either way. He didn't need to be drunk to feel good. None of them did, some just enjoyed the extra fun, the leaving behind of inhibitions. Wally liked to join in on that fun.
Not that Wally had inhibitions to let go of.
His eyes found Dick, dancing with the girls, arms up and body swaying without a care in the world. Wally's eyes tracked the line of his body as he moved, tanned skin glittering with sweat with every twist and turn of his hips, cropped shirt showing off the curve of his waist as his arms lifted higher and higher. Heat crawled up Wally's chest, flooding his face. Maybe he was more tipsy than he'd thought.
Nothing to let go of. Right.
Donna shouted something and Dick laughed, shouting something back and waving a hand when she indicated that she couldn't hear. Donna shrugged and turned towards the kitchen - for more drinks, probably, given her constitution - and Wally tried to watch her go. Though nobody was truly dressed up, she looked good; snug jeans and a silvery turtleneck with the arms cut off, showing off the broadness of her shoulders, her strength. She was beautiful.
Wally's gaze drifted back to Dick.
He was ethereal. The way he danced was so natural; like his body was born to move, though there was no clear formula he was following. Wally found it near impossible to look away from, brain trying to hypothesise his next move and being thrown off every time. There was just something about Dick that couldn’t be quantified, locked into a formula or prediction. He was like the wind, or perhaps like a bird riding on it; carefree, but controlled. Clever, but careful. He was beyond beauty.
Dick’s arm was draped over Raven’s shoulders as he leaned in, speaking directly into her ear. She laughed and shook her head, but they moved from the impromptu dance floor to the sofa where Roy was sprawled. Dick poked at Roy with one pointed toe, arm still slung around Raven. Roy was amicably shooed from his spot where he stumbled into Garfield, who nudged him towards Vic, who planted a big wet kiss on Roy’s forehead before pushing him onwards. Wally barely glimpsed Vic’s broad hands circling Gar’s waist to direct him back to the dancefloor before his vision was filled with a beaming, stumbling Roy.
“Twinkle-toes. You’re not dancing,” Roy accused, jabbing a finger at Wally’s chest. Even drunk, his aim was true. “You can’t just stand here. This is a party ! You need to dance.”
“ You need to eat something,” Wally laughed. Good. A distraction. “Come on, someone brought a cake and I want in.”
The cake was good, too - vanilla sponge layered with fresh cream and gooey caramel, the top sprinkled with chocolate shavings and edible glitter. Wally suspected it was Dick who’d brought it, from some fancy catering place on the Bat’s credit, partly due to the production value, but mostly because the word ‘CAKE’ was scrawled across the top in huge, curly icing. Wally didn’t bother with plates or slices, instead grabbing two forks and digging into the corner of the E while Roy went right for the middle of the A like the teenage dirtbag he was.
“Dude. Really ?”
“What ? There’s no rules for cake eating.”
“This is like, a sin. I’m pretty sure it’s in the commandments.”
“Right after murder, sure.”
“Good cake, though.”
“Yeah. Great cake.”
The trouble with standing at the kitchen counter was that it had a clear view of the whole living space; which meant a clear view of Dick, sprawled on his back on the sofa, with Raven in his lap. He had one arm up to rest behind his head, showing off his deeply tanned bicep and pulling his crop top obscenely high up his chest, giving a better angle for Raven as she leant in and decorated his eyes with her makeup kit. She was holding a pencil of some sort, wrist braced on Dick’s forehead as she drew careful strokes over his eyelids. Wally’s mouth watered with the need to get a closer look. Delicious as it was, he tried and failed to keep his attention on the cake.
“We should do this more often,” Roy said, mouth full of sponge. Wally couldn’t tear his eyes away from Dick, but Roy didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe he was just unsurprised. “Hang out, I mean. Like normal kids.”
“We should,” Wally agreed. Dick opened his eyes and glanced over, and Wally looked away like he’d been burned. At the other end of the counter, he found the distraction of Garfield mixing a horrible-looking concoction for Vic, who appeared to have lost some kind of bet. He was taking it well, Wally thought - until he saw Vic sway into Gar’s shoulder, knocking the shorter’s arm and making him spill pineapple juice across the marble. They both giggled, drunk as skunks, reaching clumsily for the same dishcloth and nearly knocking the whole bottle over. Wally snorted.
“This is fun. It’s nice to see everyone let loose, right ?” Especially Dick. He was so tightly wound, it felt good to watch him relax and enjoy himself. It felt good to watch Dick. “Glad you could make it, freckles. Some of these losers miss you when you’re not here.”
“I love you too, carrots.” Roy cupped his hands over his mouth and tipped his head back to address the room at large. “I love you guys !”
“You’re drunk,” Donna called back, imitating his pose with a smirk. Roy only laughed, clapping a hand on Wally’s shoulder and stabbing his fork into the cake to wander in her direction. No doubt they’d spend the night bickering until Roy inevitably passed out halfway in Donna’s lap; they had a tradition to uphold.
Wally followed him out from behind the counter, fork abandoned by the cake box, touching a hand to the corner of his mouth to make sure he wasn’t covered in cream and caramel. He bypassed where Roy had cajoled Donna into dancing alongside Vic and Gar, slipping between the two couples with a one-track focus. He wanted to see Dick’s makeup. Just to get a look. Compliment Raven on her skills, maybe. He just… wanted to see.
Kori had draped herself over the back of the sofa to oversee the makeup process, so Wally sat on the arm instead, nudging Raven with a gentle elbow.
“Hey girls. Prettying up the poster boy ?”
“Someone had to make that mug worth looking at,” Kori teased, giving Dick’s hair a pat. He snapped his teeth at her with a grin and Kori tutted, eyes flicking between Dick and Wally. “Raven. Come try the pretty boy’s cake with me. I have not tried sponge.”
“You can blame Roy for the state it’s in,” Wally called after them, carefully keeping his eyes off Dick, who was still sprawled artfully across the cushions. “It was good, though. The cake. I love caramel.”
“So does Kori ! Cream icing, too. It had better be good, it was freaking expensive.”
“Thank you, oh mighty Bat credit card,” Wally laughed, raising his hands like a worshipper. “For providing us the fanciest of cakes.”
Dick laughed. Wally swallowed.
“So. Do you like it ?”
“Like… the cake ? Yeah, I said that.”
“The makeup,” Dick laughed like it wasn’t a non-sequitur. “Does it suit me ?”
“I, uh.” You’re the most beautiful thing in the room. “Didn’t get a good look.”
Dick’s smile twisted crookedly at that and Wally felt a thrill of danger run up his spine as Dick reached out, hooking a hand around Wally’s shoulders and pulling as he leant back. Wally’s right arm ended up trapped between the back of the sofa and Dick’s broad shoulder, his left hand awkwardly braced over the side of Dick’s ribs to keep from falling on him completely.
Deep brown curls shimmered with glitter as Dick tossed his head back and relaxed into the cushions, falling around his face in a halo. Long, mascaraed lashes fluttered at Wally, giving him a most intimate view of the smudged kohl across his eye line, the dusty umber blurred over his lids. There was a touch of gold, right in his inner corner, that reflected into his eyes with each sparkle of the fairy lights. Wally could smell the hint of honey from the lip balm that smoothed over the pink of Dick’s lips. His soft, plump, velvety lips.
Wally couldn’t breathe.
“How about now,” Dick murmured, cheeks flushed, bottomless blue eyes searching Wally’s. “Can you see me now ?”
“Yeah.” He swallowed. “Yeah, I see you. Dick…”
“Yeah ?”
“Dick,” Wally repeated, helpless to explain.
“Do you wanna dance ?”
“No.”
“Okay.” Dick licked his lips and raised a hand, calloused fingertips brushing Wally’s jawline. The touch was electric, glowing, like in the movies; for a moment, Wally felt time stand still. “Then let’s stay right here.”
“Right here,” Wally echoed, and the spell caught. He leant down, shifting onto his elbow to bridge the gap, and Dick rose up to meet him, lips like the first cool sip of water in the dead of night.
Someone was whooping in the background but Wally could barely hear them, the feeling of Dick’s fingertips curling at the back of his neck drowning out any sound. Dick kissed with languid ease, almost lazy in the slide of his lips and tilt of his head, like he had all the time in the world. It was almost innocent, open-mouthed but without tongue, but Wally’s short-circuiting brain couldn’t ignore Dick’s other hand sliding over his side and under his shirt, or the leg Dick had hooked around the back of Wally’s knee, as if he were going to run.
Wally wasn’t going anywhere.
Dick pulled back just slightly and Wally chased his lips like a starving man, feeling the tips of his ears glow red as he knocked their chins together in his haste. Dick looked unbelievable like this, loose curls haloed around his face, lips red and plump and shining, Wally couldn’t get his brain to restart.
“I’ve been thinking about you all night,” Dick whispered, and Wally’s neurons sparked.
“Me ? You’re kidding. Do you have any idea what you look like right now ?”
Dick’s flush from the heat of the dancefloor was decidedly turning to blush now, stretching up to his temples and pooling at the apples of his cheeks. He seemed hesitant, like he was trying to say something he was embarrassed about, and Wally reached a hand up to brush against that pink, feeling the warmth under Dick’s usually cool-to-touch tan.
“I thought… you might like me in red,” he confessed. “I wanted to catch your eye.”
“Consider it caught, vixen,” Wally laughed softly, incredulous. “You really wore that for me ?”
“Do you have any idea what you look like right now ?” Dick parroted Wally’s words with a smirk. “The fairy lights on your freckles… you’re irresistible. And you taste like cake.”
“Do I ?”
“Hm, let me make sure.”
Whatever innocence they had nurtured in their first kiss was well and truly out the window now, the press of Dick’s tongue against Wally’s pulling a sound from his throat that Dick greedily curled his lips around. His mind was clearer, now, and Wally put his wants to good use, hand curling into Dick’s hair and angling his head to kiss him more deeply, more tenderly. Even as their pace slowed, neither seemed to want to pull away. They drew back to short, pecked kisses, then dove towards each other again, boring things like breathing ignored in favour of this bliss.
Someone was cheering again, and Wally registered the voice as Roy’s as Dick pressed a hand to his chest, pushing him back with more finality this time.
“Get a room,” Roy shouted, stumbling back from the force of Donna’s unimpressed shove. “Hey–”
“Glad to see you boys have sorted this thing out,” Donna interrupted smoothly, hand clamped firmly over Roy’s mouth. She winced, but kept her grip - Wally would bet that Roy had licked her. “Now if you don’t mind, I want to kick some ass at Pac-Man. Go explore each other’s tonsils somewhere else.”
“Come on twinkle-toes, I want to try that cake properly,” Dick giggled, tapping Wally’s chest until he sat back and let Dick up. “It tastes pretty good on you.”
Donna poked two fingers at her lips and made a gagging sound but Dick only laughed more, hand locked firmly in Wally’s as he pulled them towards the kitchen. Wally couldn’t help but smile; Dick’s hand in his, surrounded by their closest friends and the promise of more cake ? This was shaping up to be the best night of his life.
And it could only go uphill from here.