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On those lackadaisical days spent in the lounge of Mount Justice, there was always sure to be a pack of cards sprawled out atop the coffee table. Cards equated to poker, and poker equated to betting—a gamble that Wally always lost to. He would blame it on his poker face, or lack thereof; it was half a lie, half the truth according to him, that spewed from his lips. His lips as he stared at Dick’s. It was the boy’s inscrutable expression, that was what Wally would repeat in his head. He admired the way Dick’s lips would not twitch up nor down upon seeing his hand. He admired the use of sunglasses—the ones he often hated for veiling the eyes he knew so well—to further conceal his mien. That was all he admired, surely.
But could he tell himself that as Dick stepped out of the bathroom? How could Wally say he was merely admiring an impressive ability while his best friend was standing there before him, adorned in a cerulean dress, black wig, and slightly smudged makeup? For once, it was not Wally who had lost in poker, but Dick. Grateful was he for Artemis in calling Dick’s bluff. Wally always betted irresponsibly, but this one night he had been too busy staring at Dick’s lips. No, poker face. Lips… pale lips that were painted a shade of red. He wanted to smudge it more, run a thumb along them, and… do nothing. Because that was his best friend, and a boy, and these were thoughts he only ever had about ladies—he should only ever have about ladies.
Or, perhaps it was okay. After all, was Dick truly a boy right now? How could he be a boy if he had long hair, a chest stuffed of what he assumed would be toilet paper to give the illusion of shape, and makeup? Boys did not wear makeup, that much he knew. Though, what did he know? He could hardly make out his own thoughts with his heart beating in his ears faster than he’d ever sprinted. Even so, he figured this was okay. This reaction was to seeing a pretty… girl. That was all there was to it; no way a ladies’ man such as he would behave this way if Dick were not in a dress and… “Wally.”
“Wuh… huh?”
“Did you not hear me?”
Wally drew in a sharp breath whilst his eyes dragged up to Dick’s face, the one that had eyeshadow peeking out from atop the sunglasses he always wore, lipstick that he already knew he desperately wanted to ruin, and… was that blush? “Uh… no. Aha, woopsie?” He hadn’t a clue how much Dick had said before he snapped out of it, so he decided to offer a grin that bordered between sheepish and apologetic.
“I asked what you think. Of this.”
What he thought? For starters, he thought of rising to his feet, taking a few strides to the shorter boy. He would snake one hand up to the strap of Dick’s dress, inch it down his shoulder. The other hand would test out if the lipstick would transfer to his skin or not. Whether it did or did not, Wally would be leaning in. He thought it was cliché the way he wanted to breathe out against Dick’s ear, let the hot air tickle the boy’s skin. Once one of the straps were off, he’d pry away Dick’s sunglasses and toss them aside. And pull back just enough so that he could stare into those familiar eyes before taking a step forward and…
“Wally.”
“Oh. Dude! You look… great!”
All Wally could do was clear his throat and pray that his face did not mirror his hair. But when Dick tilted his head in that way, peering up at him with such an angle that he could see his eyes peeking out the shades, Wally was certain there was an unmistakable heat that spread across his face. Across his body, even. Dick’s lips parted and the redhead’s breath caught, only releasing when the other spoke. “Just great, man?”
Was Wally supposed to say that Dick may as well be the prettiest girl he had ever seen in his life? He could not delude himself into the notion that it was not the truth—he thought M’gann was a beauty, but Dick? His mouth dried up, tongue shriveling. With the way that Dick was staring up at him, he was sure he could somehow see the cold sweat that had gathered on the nape of Wally’s neck. “Oh, I’m sorry, Dick.” He willed a flirtatious grin to flash across his features. “You are just so beautiful, I could swoon.” His hands went out to Dick’s sides, holding beneath his arms—his fully bare arms—to melodramatically spin him around in a few circles.
“That’s more like it.” Dick snickered as his heels touched the floor. He had heels on? Wally’s simper became something else, something he hoped Dick could not perceive. That laughter that had filled the room ceased when Wally’s hand came up to his face, peeling off the sunglasses. His eyes flickered over his. Both of them. Wally could see the furrow in Dick’s brows, and if Dick could see the longing in his, ruined would he be. “Wall—”
“If only you could see your face!” He croaked out, consequently followed by a demeaning chuckle he had to make crawl out from his throat. Emboldened by the way Dick’s brows untensed, “What, did you think I was gonna do anything just cause you’re… pretty…?” was tacked on with what began as confidence, tapering to hesitancy. That aplomb inched its way out his flesh with every passing second, and it was all gone the second Dick’s lips curled up into a simper of his own.
“So, you do think I’m pretty?” Much to Wally’s dismay, he took a step back, only to do a twirl. The ends of the dress swayed before settling back down. Seeing such a winsome sight was enough to make up for the new lack of proximity with him. “How does the name Dina sound?” Wally could barely breathe. Or, rather, he could not hear his breath what with the pounding of his eardrums in alignment with his heart. Dick, Dina. He could get behind Dina, in more ways than one. Was that a thought he should have? If this supposed Dina before him still had Dick’s anatomy, these were not thoughts a boy had. He had figured this was okay, since all he could see before him was a woman, but was it if he knew he was not truly one?
“I think it suits you just fine.”
“What’s with all these just’s? Just great, just fine. Nothing more than that?” There he went, on with his vocabulary and English excellence; Wally never knew he could see that quirk as endearing until this moment. “Am I underwhelming or overwhelming?” Dick outstretched his arms to the side slightly. Was that even a question? He wiped his nose, a gesture to discreetly give himself time to formulate a cohesive responsive.
“Whelming. Very whelming.” Wally’s hand fell from his lips to reveal a smile as he lied through his barely yellow-tinted teeth—from mission nights where he was too exhausted to brush his teeth. “What was it you say? Feeling the aster? I’m definitely feeling the aster right now, Dina.” He raised his hand up to offer a high-five. It was an unsavory action to give to a lady, but this was his best friend regardless. Did boys have girls as best friends, was that allowed? Was this… vigilante before him a boy or a girl? Where did Dick end and where did Dina start? Was his attraction towards just Dina?
Dick lifted his hand, and it inched forth to slap their palms together. Until it fell short, down to clasp onto Wally’s shoulder as the boy walked past him to pick up the sunglasses. An imperceptible shiver inched down his body, seeping from his head to his shoulders to his weak knees. “So, seeing me like this isn’t turbing?” Rhetorical, evidently, as Dick continued, “A bet’s a bet, I should show the rest of the team this,” as he waved down at himself.
The rest of the team. Would have to see Dick. Or Dina—not that they would know of this new name, it was too similar to Dick’s nickname. The thought of the two sharing yet another inside joke, yet another secret, had his heart soaring, whilst the notion of anyone else being able to see him in this way had the organ plummeting. It stayed in the middle, right at his chest, quivering and vibrating as Wally would in his moments of excitement. His eyes flitted to Dick’s covered ones, veiled once more with those shades. “Right. What, are you gonna introduce yourself as? Robina?”
“Robina” stared into Wally’s eyes, and Wally stared back at his. One, two, three beats of the redhead’s heart, and Dick’s features cracked as a little smile plastered onto his face. “Ha. Ha. Hilarious.” Drawled out in the driest way, but beneath the lines, Wally could hear the ironic amusement in the stupidity of his joke. “Come on,” a wave of Dick’s hand as the opposite flicked open the temples of the sunglasses, settling the bridge atop his nose, “don’t you wanna see their reactions to Dina?”
All Wally could do was trail after the retreating figure before him, and if his eyes were to wander down a little too low, that was nobody’s business but his. His rumination was split and lacerated by the whistling of Artemis, evidently directed toward Dick. There was a ringing in Wally’s ears that blocked out the banter between her and Dick. Viridescent eyes that darted over to Conner, to Kaldur’ahm. Did they find Dick attractive too? Did they see him as the pretty girl that Wally could see standing before all of them? Did — “Robin, you really went all out!” M’gann interjected with a titter.
“It’s Robina, courtesy of Wally here.”
Another whistle from Artemis. Wally could not tell if it was mocking or not; had it been any other day, any other woman, he would be making moronic quips that he could be a far lovelier lady. Any other woman, or any other man but Dick that was dolled up in dresses and powders? The words he wanted to say, would have said, were stuck in his dried out throat. He wanted so much. To say so much. To jest that Robina was his, both the title and the girl. To ask Dick if he would ever do this again.
Wally knew this was a one-off incident from a bet, and there would be no reason for Dick to do this once more. The team would not bother adding repeat punishments to the gambling pot of poker, and he was sure to receive a peculiar raise of a brow were he to offer it up. But, if only he could see this even just once more. This lady before him, the one that allowed his heart to bloom and his mind to empty more than it already was. There were butterflies in his stomach that he could not let out of their cocoons on any other circumstance, because that was not what a boy does.
A boy does not stare at another’s lips, and think of his pressing to his. A boy does not stare at another’s eyes, his own having stars in them. A boy does not like another boy. A boy does like a girl. Wally was a boy, Dick was a boy, and Dina was a girl. A girl, one that he was allowed to like. What he should like, this was what was allowed of him. For all the times he had looked over at Dick—seeing the boy grinning ear to ear or tilting his head or raising a brow—and prayed that he could just be a girl, this was his wish coming true. Perhaps Wally should have specified, asked that he wanted it to be more than just the hour that Dick would be in this dress, in the shape of Dina.
“I’m a little turbed being in this thing so long. I can change now, right?” Wally’s head snapped up in time to see Dick’s eyes set on Artemis; she had been the one to offer the penalty. He was indebted to her twice, but that was not what was of worry. Dick would be retreating back to the bathroom, alone. He’d stare at the mirror as he wiped off the makeup, shrugging off the taffeta without Wally there behind him to loosen the straps and take the wig off his scalp. He scrambled to his feet.
“I’ll come with!”
He could feel the eyes that tracked onto him, scrutinizing into his being. His soul. If M’gann were to read his thoughts, peer into his clouded, fuzzy brain, he would never recover. But nobody said anything, there was no snide nor teasing remark being made. If anything, when he drifted his gaze over, Artemis and M’gann were talking, snickering and throwing fingers not at Wally, but at Dick. Kaldur’ahm was leaned in to hear what they were saying, and Conner added in his own comment. Not once did he hear his own name. His feet moved before his brain, tailing Dick to the spare bedroom.
“You gonna come in and help me change or what?”
Did Wally hear him properly? He could not decipher whether this was another rhetorical remark from Dick or something different, something better. “Are you offering?” Whilst he offered his own thing, a weak-willed smile with the façade of confidence he was sure Dick would not buy. Regardless, he watched as the boy merely turned on his heel, waving his hand in toward himself. An invitation. An offer.
A left foot overtook his right one, all but tripping over himself as he ambled into the bathroom. Within the few seconds it took for Wally to make it in, Dick was leaned over the counter splashing water to his face. In his daydreaming, he had imagined being the one to bring his hands up. With a tender touch, his fingers would clasp the straps. Drag them down, take the dress with them, allow the taffeta to scrunch on the floor. But, was he allowed? Was that allowed? “Take the wig off for me,” Dick spluttered out as he wiped suds from his face.
Wally brought a hand to the boy’s hairline, peeling the away the cap. Upon seeing there were no bobby pins, he plucked it right off and held it in his hands. Dick could have easily shook it from his head before washing his face, so why did he leave it on? “Sweet, souvenir!” He joked, holding it up and setting it atop his own head. He dramatically flicked one of the ends over his shoulder with a toss of his head, eliciting a chuckle from Dick.
“Dude, it isn’t even from a mission.”
“This was basically a mission.”
“All you guys did was play poker. I’m the one who did all the work in dressing up.”
“You’re just being a sore loser.”
The speedster could have evaded that black heel that was barreling straight to his face, but the question was: did he want to? No, he did not, not if it meant Dick could have a little fun. He grunted as it hit his nose. “Dude!” He whined out, to which Dick grinned at him and went back to wiping the lipstick off his face. Such a lovely grin—even while it was condescending—that Wally wanted to see far more often. He took a step closer. “Since I’m so nice,” he murmured without a proper, and necessary, second thought.
There was that scarce, albeit unmistakable, startle in Dick’s eyes that could not have lasted beyond a second. It made him feel special, being one of few—one of only—to evoke such miens from the boy before him. Wally had darted his fingers beneath the flow of the tap water, advancing to Dick’s lips. The pads wiped along the rouge, leaving sanguine imprints against his skin. How he wished those red marks could be left elsewhere; his own lips, his neck, his… “What are you doing?”
Wally’s thumb lingered on the corner of Dick’s mouth, and he itched to lean in and… “Nothing.” His lips curved up into an innocent smile, parting just enough to tack on, “I’m just being helpful!” Dick’s eyes narrowed in what he could see was doubt, only to ease up. Had he resigned to think nothing of it? Wally hoped so. With a barely disguised reluctance did he peel his thumb off his skin and let his hand drop back down to his side. There was nothing more than a second wherein neither said anything, but it seemed to stretch on forever for Wally. “So,” he chirped, “any plans on doing this again?”
He did not know whether it was fortunate or unfortunate the way Dick cocked a brow, upturned his lips in that chaffing way he always did. “No, no plans at all. Unless you had plans on seeing me do this again.” It was less of plans, more of dopey hopes that maybe, just maybe, Dick would do this a few more times. After all, without Dina, Wally could not allow himself these troubling thoughts of pressing his lips to Dick’s… no, to Dina’s. All he wanted to do was kiss a pretty girl, certainly not the pretty boy before him. Was it okay to see another boy as pretty? Was that forbidden?
“Maaaybe,” Wally drawled out, starstruck smile shifting over to an inane grin to play it off. “Would it be more convincing if I tried to serenade Dina?'“ He wiggled his brows in that ditzy manner that always had Dick groaning and hitting his shoulder; this was no exception. He mentally brushed off the dull ache in his shoulder from the punch, plopping the “souvenir” down atop Dick’s head, proceeding to theatrically dropped onto his knees. “Oh, Dina!” It was proclaimed as if he was Romeo. He opened his mouth to sing, but Dick’s hands covered his lips.
“I hear you screech enough during karaoke.” To that, Wally wilted; there had been a vague flicker of optimism that his caterwauling would work, that Dina would come around once more. Dick dropped the faux hair onto the redhead’s face, a few strands slithering into his mouth. He spluttered and pried it away in time to see the thin strands of the dress hang to the sides, no longer resting on Dick’s shoulders. Before Wally could fluster and flush, the other spoke. “Man, I forgot to get my clothes.”
That had him hopping up to his two left feet, tripping all over himself as he brushed past Dick to the bathroom. “I got you!” In a flash—pun intended, any other moment and he would be laughing at his own joke—was he back with the plain shirt and sweatpants Dick had been donning before the whole bet. His eyes darted around the bathroom, landing on anywhere but the boy who was prying toilet paper out the cups of the dress.
Said paper was discarded in the damp sink, and the clothes were plucked from his fingers. “Thanks, KF.” In what could not have been more than a minute, Dick was back to… Dick. Dina was no longer here, and Wally’s feelings shouldn’t have been either. But his heart was still pounding, the butterflies were not cocooning back into caterpillars. No, that was not even possible; he’d chalk it up to that being why his organs were palpitating in all the wrong ways, but Wally was not bovine, contrary to popular belief.
He needed an excuse. If not for anyone else, then for himself. Wally had swooned solely for Dina. He had not swooned for Dick, that was not possible. Not allowed. So, why were these emotions lingering? The ones he had for Dina, they persisted even as he peered over at Dick. Well, it’s not as though this mattered, it was nothing beyond a little crush on Dina. All Wally had to do was find a new girl and… say his stupid quips and… ask her out. The thought made him feel all wrong inside. He could only fathom holding Di… na, Dina, to his chest, to press his lips to her temples, and nobody else. Because it’d be all wrong to consider doing that for his best friend. A best friend that was a boy.
“Yeah, no problem, Rob.”