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Wally’s alarm, late enough in the morning that the sun is already painting Dick’s bedroom honey-yellow, is his boyfriend hovering over his thighs, comforter bunched up behind his back, running his fingers down Wally’s cheek so gently it almost tickles.
They’re taking a lazy day today. A pre-planned, nonnegotiable lazy day, because they’ve both been unfathomably stressed lately and might lose their minds if they don’t.
With the way Dick is looking at him, though, Wally is pretty sure they have different definitions of lazy.
“Hi,” Dick whispers as soon as he blinks his eyes open, smiling down at him so sweetly Wally’s chest blooms with warmth. “Good morning. Sorry for waking you up.”
Wally takes a second to look him over. His shirt, too big and once Bruce’s, is rumpled with sleep, spilling over his thighs and covering much more of them than Wally would like; he can only just see the ends of Dick’s black boxer-briefs peeking out, the silk shiny against his golden-tan thighs. “More than okay,” Wally says, gaze flicking back up to Dick’s face as he fumbles to sit up, sliding his hands under the worn shirt to grab at his waist, thumb brushing a years-old scar. “Morning, beautiful.”
Dick grins and leans forward to kiss him, which Wally’s always eager about. He’s already brushed his teeth, apparently, mint lingering on his tongue, and Wally wonders just how long he’s been up. And why.
Then Dick grabs his hips and sucks at his lower lip, and he stops wondering. Not enough blood is going to his brain anymore to wonder. Dick notices, obviously, because he notices everything, and his response is to grind into Wally’s lap, moaning quietly into his mouth before pulling away just a little to touch his forehead to Wally’s, mumbling, “It’s like ten in the morning and you’re already so hard.”
Wally groans, squeezing Dick’s waist hard and bringing his head back to moue at him. “That is unfair. You were on me before I even got up.”
Dick bites the inside of his lip to hold back a smile and Wally already wants to kiss him again. “I was just admiring my pretty boyfriend.”
Wally rolls his eyes and his hips. “Are you going to fuck me or not?”
Now Dick lets himself smile, lifting one hand to Wally’s face to brush a piece of hair out of his eyes. “Nah. Let’s make breakfast and then cuddle for a while. I know you’re hungry.”
Unfortunately, he’s right. Wally always wakes up on an empty stomach, and Dick always makes sure to remedy that quickly. Plus, breakfast sounds really good right now. “Yeah,” he mumbles, leaning into the hand on his face. “Well, if we’re making food, you have to get off me.”
Dick pouts. “I can’t just eat you?”
There it is. As if Wally would ever say no to Dick wanting to give him head, even when he’s hungry. “Of course you can,” he says, definitely a little pink in surprise, but that’s okay, because Dick likes when he blushes.
“Hmm.” Dick squeezes Wally’s hip, fingertips pressing against his ass through his thin boxers. “I dunno. I’m thinking omelettes.”
Wally groans, tipping his head forward to press his face into the spot between Dick’s neck and his shirtsleeve slipping off his shoulder. “I’m filing for divorce.”
Dick kisses his hair, just above his ear, fingers drumming against his hip like he’s thinking. Almost a whisper, he says, “You’ll have to marry me first.”
Fuck. Wally absolutely cannot be thinking about marriage right now. They’ve been together less than half a year, and while it’s been the sweetest, most love-filled five-or-so months of Wally’s life, it’s way too early to start imagining matching rings, or hyphening their last names, or introducing Dick as his husband, okay, okay. So maybe he’s thought about it a little bit. How couldn’t he, when the world’s prettiest, sweetest, kindest man is in love with him, thighs wrapped around his hips, face buried in his hair? Of course Wally wants to marry him one day. He’s known since day one that he wants this for the rest of his life.
He just hopes Dick does, too.
Wally sighs, deep and overdramatic, lifting his head and sliding both hands down to run them over Dick’s thighs. “Omelettes sound good,” he concedes, his stomach punctuating that thought with an opportune growl. If Dick is going to leave him hanging, he might as well get a delicious, Alfred-taught breakfast out of it.
“Okay,” Dick says, nose brushing Wally’s as he kisses him one more time. He maneuvers his way off Wally’s lap, holding out a hand to help him up, which Wally doesn’t need but takes anyway. He did that a lot in the weeks before they got together, offering a hand to help Wally up, even in the most unnecessary times, along with plenty of other gratuitous little touches. Wally had been too swept up in how good it felt to hold Dick’s hand (warm and scarred and bigger than his) for even just a few moments to realize how strange the offering was at all until Donna pointed it out.
(He later learned that she already knew about Dick’s feelings and was trying to give Wally a push in the right direction, which at the time, was the most embarrassing thing in the world, but it is cute to look back on. Just the thought of Dick ranting to Donna about how he felt, head in her lap, probably, or on her shoulder, telling her how much he liked Wally, is enough to send a rush through his chest.)
Wally pecks a kiss to the back of Dick’s hand when he stands before dropping it to follow him to the kitchen. “I’ll make toast, too,” Dick decides, glancing back at Wally, who sits at the kitchen island only because Dick gets a little overwhelmed sometimes if he (or anyone) gets in the way while he’s cooking. “Don’t want the bread to go bad. We’ve been neglecting it.”
“Okay,” Wally says, and Dick smiles before turning back around, opening the fridge, and bending over to take out the eggs, and holy fuck.
Sometimes it slips his mind that he truly has the hottest boyfriend in the entire world. He only gets to see the curve of his perfect ass for a moment before he’s standing back up and the oversized shirt is covering it again, but he’s already cataloguing that three-second view in his mind with the rest of the reasons he’s the luckiest man on Earth, snugly next to Dick making him breakfast, of course. This is all just… he feels like he’s in a romance novel.
Wally doesn’t read romance novels, but he’s flipped through a few on the dollar-store racks while waiting in the checkout line, and he’s pretty sure this fits the bill. Dick’s dark hair tangled with sleep, a little overgrown to where it’s poking at the collar of his too-big shirt, which, Wally has not forgotten, is covering his beautiful ass; Dick who is still sleepy yet cracking eggs perfectly into a blue clay bowl Damian made him back when he got really into pottery for a few months, a piece the boy grumbles about seeing whenever he visits because it’s not his best work, but Dick cherishes it anyway; Dick who loves Wally more than anyone ever has and proves it to him every single second, and Wally who loves him back tenfold, who loves him so much it scares him a little, in ways he’ll never admit.
“Guess we need more eggs.” Dick tilts his head back to smile at him, nodding at the empty two-dozen carton on the countertop. “Unlike every other time we go to the store.”
“You’re the one who suggested omelettes,” Wally points out, knowing damn well he eats the vast majority of the eggs they buy. And, well, the food they buy in general. Not like he can control his metabolism.
The toaster pops before Dick can retort, and he doesn’t give it a second to rest before putting in their last two slices of bread. Wally always enjoys watching him cook. It’s not like he’s amazing at it, but he’s good, and there’s something about the focus in his eyes when he’s in the kitchen that always gets Wally’s heart racing. Admittedly, a lot of basic things Dick does affects him like this, but he’s in love, okay?
By the time Dick sets down both of their plates and slides onto the stool beside him, Wally’s already mostly forgotten about the teasing earlier, which is why it’s such a surprise when Dick very conspicuously licks the leftover jam from the butter knife he used to coat their slices of toast, swirling his tongue over the metal in a way that can only be described as lewd. It really, really shouldn’t be as hot as it is. Especially not with how he just sets the knife down afterwards, starting to eat like nothing happened. Like he’s not intentionally driving Wally insane.
He’s really fucking lucky breakfast tastes phenomenal.
“Thanks for cooking,” Wally says when Dick starts to take both of their cleared plates, putting a hand on his wrist to stop him from getting up just yet so he can give him a quick kiss, lips sticky with strawberry jam. “I love you.”
Dick huffs out a laugh, eyes warm. “I love you too. Go get comfy. You agreed to cuddling.”
There is no universe in which Wally wouldn’t agree to cuddle with Dick, but he decides against pointing this out, instead sliding off the stool and only sneaking one glance at Dick, who is rinsing their plates in the sink to make them easier to wash later (they still need to get the dishwasher fixed sometime, Wally notes, and he wonders if Tim would do it for them) before making his way to their bedroom. Dick’s bedroom.
He’s… not really sure how to refer to it anymore.
It’s not like he’s moved in, not officially, but he sure as hell spends most of his available time in Blüdhaven these days, and in his mind, this is home. Dick’s one-bedroom apartment with shitty HVAC and popcorn ceiling in the part of Blüdhaven that, in Wally’s opinion, most resembles Gotham; the family-owned Chinese restaurant half a block away with the best lo mein Wally has ever tasted and a boy who’s probably Damian’s age who takes his order on a yellow notepad next to in-progress math homework every time he visits; Dick, himself, with siblings who like to stop in unannounced and a dead electric toothbrush that Wally doubts he’s ever going to remember to buy new batteries for and so much love in his heart that it bleeds into everything he’s ever touched. Wally has never been more at home than right now, climbing under the comforter on Dick’s unmade queen-sized bed, watching the doorway as Dick appears in it, considering Wally for a few quiet seconds before tugging his shirt over his head and tossing it at the foot of the bed. “Yours, too,” he tells Wally as he crawls into bed beside him, warm and grinning, and Wally doesn’t hesitate to comply, but Dick explains himself anyway. “Wanna feel your skin.”
Wally shifts forward so they’re chest-to-chest, pressing his face into Dick’s neck and taking a deep breath. He always smells good, in Wally’s mind, even after patrol when his hair is damp with sweat and he swears it’s so gross for Wally to want to hold him close, but right now it’s just fresh laundry and a tiny hint of eggs and warmth, and Wally adores it. Dick brings a hand to his hair, untangling knotted strands at the nape of his neck. They’re still for a few quiet moments, breathing each other in, before Wally nudges Dick onto his back so he can crawl on top of him and lie on his chest, the comforter getting tangled at their feet. Dick called him a human weighted blanket once, but Wally knows he loves it, knows it helps him relax and get out of his head. Not like he’s too overwhelmed right now, but he certainly doesn’t complain about the weight, just lifts Wally’s chin to smile at him and whispers, “You’re beautiful.”
Wally is sure he’s pink-faced when he mumbles back, Dick’s hand on his face the only thing keeping him from burying his face in his neck, “You should look at yourself.”
Dick chuckles, running his thumb along Wally’s lower lip. “I think you look at me enough for the both of us.”
He’s not wrong, but Wally grumbles anyway, poking his tongue out to lick the tip of Dick’s thumb. His demeanor quickly shifts when Dick’s other hand trails down his back, though, toying with the elastic waistband of his boxers. He props himself up on his elbows, boxing Dick in under him, and he thinks he probably looks a little silly, overgrown hair drooping in front of his face, but Dick only giggles a little before pushing himself up with one hand and grabbing at Wally’s face with the other to kiss him, which, while Wally had intended to be the one to initiate, is good. Kissing Dick is always good, because Dick doesn’t half-ass anything. When they have sex, he kisses like he’s fucking his mouth, eager and desperate and a little possessive; hello and goodbye kisses are soft and sweet and always held a little longer than necessary, like he doesn’t want to let go; good-morning kisses are slow and lazy and smiley, and they make Wally remember just how lucky he is, and he wonders if Dick kisses that way in the mornings because he, too, is thinking that. And right now, these gentle makeout sessions that don’t necessarily hold a promise of sex, these might be Wally’s favorite.
Dick presses his tongue to the seam of Wally’s lips like he’s asking a question, taking a moment even after Wally parts them to lick at the smooth skin, never torn for long despite Wally’s bad habit of biting. He slips his tongue into Wally’s mouth with one warm hand cupping his cheek and the other propping himself up, and every slow movement of his lips, every slide of his tongue against Wally’s, is so full of love that Wally still feels ocean-waves of adoration in his chest even (almost!) half a year into all of this.
Dick slips a knee between his thighs, shifting to half sit up against the pillows all the while kissing him; Wally is so grateful Dick is good at multitasking and coordination and balance and everything else that makes that possible. Needing to take a breath but clearly not wanting to pull back, Dick huffs against his lips, their noses brushing as he brings his head back just enough to meet Wally’s eyes and smile at him before moving right back in again.
In other news, Wally thinks he might have a crush on his boyfriend.
Dick makes these little throaty noises when they make out, so soft Wally’s pretty sure he doesn’t even realize he’s making them. He’s been listening for them, these tiny, thoughtless whines that are just for him, since the first time he realized Dick makes them, wanting to cherish every little piece of his enjoyment. He lets out one that’s louder than usual, pretty and a little needy, and Wally can’t help but react, mumbling into his mouth, “Fuck, you’re perfect.”
Breath hitching, Dick pulls back to look at him, his face flushed. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Wally says. He sits up on Dick’s thighs, his previous position a little annoying for his back. “You’re beautiful and so smart and caring and good, you’re so good at kissing, you know that?”
“You might’ve told me once or twice,” Dick says, always so receptive to praise. He grabs at Wally’s wrists to help himself with sitting up, too, so with a little adjusting Wally is straddling his lap. “Anything else you like about me?”
Wally opens his mouth to humor him.
A window loudly opens in the other room.
“Fuck,” Wally hisses, scrambling to crawl off Dick’s lap and pull his shirt back on. He grabs a pair of sweatpants, too, for plausible deniability reasons. “I’ll see who it is.”
The moment he steps into the living room, he’s greeted by Tim, who is holding a laptop bag to his chest and entirely unsurprised to see him. “Hey. Where’s Dick?”
“Hey, Timmy.”
Wally whips his head around at Dick’s voice. He’s standing in the bedroom doorway, smiling a little, decidedly not dressed, because he has zero shame. He’s just standing there in his boxers, arms crossed over his chest. And, like, sure, Wally is pretty sure Dick’s siblings have seen him in every state imaginable at this point, but he could at least be a little less shameless about it. It’s honestly unfair. How is he supposed to act normal in a conversation with someone else while his very hot boyfriend is practically naked right beside him? Dick knows how easily he gets distracted. Especially by him.
Tim, unfazed by Dick’s state of dress, says, “Hey. I know it’s your day off, but I really need another pair of eyes on this case, and I don’t wanna deal with B. And Cass and Steph are off with Babs in Paris.”
“Yeah, no problem,” Dick says, and while Wally almost wants to tell him he can’t work on his off day, not after they took so long to plan it, he knows Dick isn’t gonna change his mind about helping out Tim for a minute. Besides, Wally likes Tim, even if just how much he knows about him freaks him out sometimes. “Is this the trafficking one?”
Tim nods, taking a seat on the couch, and Dick follows behind him, tugging the throw blanket Donna gave him last Christmas over his lap, which makes Wally feel much better about sitting next to him with Tim there. “The details just don’t add up. I mean, if Miller’s the one who’s been in contact…”
Wally tunes most of the case-talk out. He hears enough of it from Dick, really. He just leans against Dick’s side and watches Tim go through documents without a care that Wally’s right there, too. Honestly, he’s really lucky to be so easily accepted into Dick’s family. It helps that they’ve been friends for ages, sure, and Bruce was pretty disgruntled at the thought of his son dating a speedster, but it really wasn’t long before he was accepted into the family. Even Damian has warmed up to him, according to Dick. Wally hasn’t noticed too much of a difference, but he knows the kid is fiercely protective over Dick, anyway, so he gets his hesitation, even if it’s misguided. He wishes that hesitation involved less murderous intent, but he’ll take what he can get.
Loving Barry and Iris was like learning what a family should be like.
Loving Dick and the other bats is… different.
Dick had warned him straight-up before he came to family dinner for the first time that his family is pretty dysfunctional. Wally hadn’t exactly known what he was in for, but, well, he’s had his own experiences with a broken family. He wasn’t judging. A little (incredibly) nervous, sure, but not judging. He didn’t know what to expect.
What he could never have expected, though, is the sheer amount of love.
Alfred, the family butler and Dick’s grandfather/great-grandfather/secondary father figure, cooked for everyone, which Dick had let him know about prior to the dinner, as well as just how good the food would be. He’d made chicken and biscuits and mashed potatoes and all sorts of fried vegetables on the side, as well as a lentil salad for Damian, who hasn’t been eating meat lately. What really got to Wally was before the meal even started, though: Alfred had pulled him aside and explained that he’d be preparing plenty of extra food, in consideration of Wally’s metabolism, explained that he’d already spoken to Dick about it but wanted to make sure there wasn’t anything else he needed to be aware of, and Wally just—
Well, it’s a little embarrassing to think about, but he kinda broke.
He’s used to Dick and his friends being considerate about his needs, and of course other speedsters. And it made sense that Dick would say something to Alfred, and that Alfred, the amazing soul Dick had thus far made him out to be and Wally would later learn for himself is true, would want to check in about it, but there was something about the level of care that had Wally choking on his words in the kitchen of Wayne Manor while his boyfriend lost to Tim at Monopoly in the other room.
And then it just didn’t stop.
It wasn’t all directed towards himself, of course. Most of it wasn’t, and most of it wasn’t outright, either. It was watching Cass lean into Jason’s side, the two of them quietly watching everyone else battle through a game of Uno they had already lost; it was art with D.W. initialed in the bottom right being hung in the same frames as professional, hundred-thousand dollar paintings; it was Duke wearing an oversized Nightwing shirt that definitely came from Dick’s closet, and Dick not saying a word about it. It was everything in-between.
Wally soon came to realize that Wayne Manor, while inhabited by some of the most broken, fucked-up, messiest people he’s ever met, is so full of love that none of that matters. And somehow, he’s allowed to be a part of that. He’s allowed not just to witness but to experience home-cooked family dinners and impromptu game nights and haircuts by Alfred in the middle of the kitchen and arguments over what movie to pick because No, Jason, we’re not watching Pride and fucking Prejudice again and galas, soon, because Dick invited him to an actual gala and how cool is that, even though he swears it’ll be really boring, and overall so much more love than Wally could’ve ever dreamed up.
It all makes him love Dick ten times more.
“Wal,” Dick says, nudging his side. Wally glances up, and Dick snakes his arm around his waist, toying with the cotton of his tee-shirt. “You okay if Tim stays for lunch? No more work stuff, promise.”
Wally shoots a smile at Tim. “Only if you tell me what’s going on with you and Bart.”
Tim blinks at him like he’s not sure whether or not he’s serious, then sighs. “Can we get Chinese?”
Wally nods, then looks back at Dick. “And if you put some clothes on.”
Tim snorts. “He hardly wears clothes around the Manor.”
“Fine,” Dick says, not denying Tim’s comment, and Wally makes a mental note to ask for pictures later. “C’mon.”
He tugs Wally off to the bedroom, shutting the door behind them. “Sorry,” he says, not sounding apologetic at all as he shuffles past him to hug Wally from behind. “I know this was supposed to be an us-day. He won’t stay long past lunch. Make it up to you later.”
Tim’s presence isn’t a problem to Wally, now that he’s gotten over being interrupted, but he’s definitely not going to say no to that. “Mm, okay. I’ll hold you to it.”
Dick kisses his neck, a hand slipping under his shirt, and Wally has to swat him away, spinning them around to kiss him properly once, a short brush of their lips, before pulling off. “Get dressed. Tim’s probably already regretting coming over.”
“Yes, sir,” Dick says, sighing overdramatically. Wally snickers, sits on the edge of the bed, and uses all of his resolve to not think too hard about the title.
Dick pulls his oversized tee-shirt back on, glancing at himself in the mirror for a few moments as if debating whether or not to put pants on too. He eventually decides yes, to grab a pair of athletic shorts, which is very good for keeping Wally sane while Tim is over. He’s pretty sure he’d have to kick him out if Dick decided to walk around in just the shirt.
When they step out of the bedroom, Tim is just getting off the phone with the Chinese place. “Oh,” Wally says, slightly surprised, having thought Dick would make the order. “What’d you get me?”
Tim pockets his phone. “A large chicken lo mein and a large vegetable lo mein, because you like them both and think they taste too different to choose one. Large General Tso’s chicken. A quart of egg drop soup. And that comes with three small rices, and I said fried rice for all of them.”
Wally stares at him. Tim just smiles, like that’s not the creepiest thing he’s ever done to him. It probably isn’t. “...Thanks.”
Tim beams. “You’re welcome!”
Tim insists on waiting for the Bart conversation until the food arrives, so Wally has to wait ten painstaking minutes, but they get there. They spread all the food out on the kitchen island, and Wally sits between Dick and Tim, already digging into his chicken lo mein.
“Okay,” Tim says, sounding a little pained to even be talking about this. “Tell me what you already know.”
Wally hums in thought, drumming his fingers against Dick’s thigh. “You and Kon have been flirting with Bart and he can’t tell whether or not it’s genuine.”
“He’s not—” Tim bites his bottom lip. “I mean, we didn’t weird him out with it, did we?”
Wally grins. “If I thought you were making unwelcome advances, this would be a very different conversation.”
Tim looks down at the counter at this, and Wally’s pretty sure his cheeks even go a little pink. “It is genuine. We’re gonna ask him out next week, hopefully. Still working on some of the details.” Beside him, Dick laughs, and Tim leans over Wally to ask, “What?”
“B’s gonna freak.”
“He’s fine with polyamory. Remember—”
“Tim.” Dick grins, holding himself up with a hand on Wally’s thigh to lean forward. Wally is starting to think someone else should’ve sat in the middle. “Two of his children dating speedsters.”
Tim blinks a few times, like he’s processing, then laughs, tilting his head forward, his forehead bumping Wally’s arm. “Oh, shit.”
“Yeah. Oh, shit. I can’t wait,” Dick says, squeezing Wally’s thigh before leaning back into his own personal space bubble. He keeps his hand on Wally’s leg, though, like he doesn’t even realize it’s there. Wally knows damn well he does.
He considers asking about how Bruce reacted when Tim started dating Kon — is a Kryptonian better or worse than a speedster, in Batman’s eyes? He certainly likes Clark more than he does Barry, if that means anything. He doesn’t think Bart will have much trouble winning over Bruce, not any more than Kon must’ve, for sure, but even Wally was pretty intimidated for a while (still is, sometimes) and he tried to be as polite as possible. Anyway, Tim’s already talking again, so he resigns himself to asking another day.
“This is if Bart says yes. Don’t get your hopes up,” Tim says, and it’s a joke but it’s not, not with the way he shifts in his seat, with the split-split-second crack in his voice.
“He’s going to say yes,” Wally says, reaching for his soup. “He’s going to get the zoomies like a hyperactive dog and ask if you really mean it ten times and say yes, like, ten more.”
Tim smiles, something unreadable in his look, or maybe it’s just unreadable to Wally right now because Dick is fooling with the fabric of his sweatpants, slowly inching his hand up. It’s nowhere dangerous, considering his brother is literally sitting right there, but it makes Wally shiver anyway. He loves Tim, he really does, but right now he cannot wait for him to leave.
“Babe,” Dick says, and when Wally glances over, he’s holding up a half-eaten egg roll. “Does this taste weird?”
Wally goes to grab it, but Dick lifts it to his lips, which— okay. He hears Tim mutter gross when he eats it from Dick’s hand, letting his mouth linger on his fingertips for a second more than necessary, but Dick either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. Probably both. The egg roll tastes fine, because of course it does, because it was never about the egg roll, because Dick is apparently on a mission to kill him today. He does not say this. “No,” he says instead, leveling a glare at Dick, which breaks the second Dick smiles at him. “Just a little cold.”
The rest of lunch is, thankfully, mostly uneventful. Tim drinks their last two cans of soda, which is probably payback for Dick keeping his hand on Wally’s thigh the entire fucking time, which, fair. And Dick was right— he doesn’t linger past lunch, to Wally’s relief. He thanks Dick for looking over the case with him and says something about dinner on Sunday and Wally barely gives him five seconds to get out the door before he’s tugging Dick back to the bedroom. And then he hardly gets his hands on him before Dick’s phone is ringing, because the universe is conspiring against him, and Dick scrambles to grab it before informing him, “It’s Babs.”
Unfortunately, Wally really likes Barbara. With a sigh, he slumps against Dick’s side. “Tell her I say hi.”
Wally can hear Barbara speaking through the phone, but can’t make out what she’s saying, which is mostly due to the fact that the second he picks up, Dick slips his free hand under the waistband of Wally’s sweatpants and just leaves it there. Doesn’t touch him, doesn’t slide into his boxers, doesn’t do anything but smile, fingertips grazing Wally’s hip through the fabric of his boxers, and say, “Wally says hi, by the way.”
He lets out something between an annoyed hum and a whine, pressing his face into Dick’s shoulder. This man is going to be the end of him. He’s really, really lucky Wally loves him as much as he does, because if it were any less, Wally would be fed up with him today— okay, he’s already a little fed up, but it’s manageable. He can deal with teasing. He did for, like, months before they got together, so one day where Dick is being extra annoying is fine, especially because Wally is pretty sure he’s accidentally annoying like, all the time, and Dick doesn’t complain even when he gets excited and starts talking too fast for Dick to understand or when he forgets to add to the grocery list when he uses the rest of the bread or rice or anything, really, or when he gets distracted and taps his foot too fast and shakes the floor.
Dick pushes his hand lower, wrist disappearing under the elastic waistband, and his hand barely ghosts over Wally’s cock, no amount of pressure, but it’s enough to make Wally muffle a whimper in Dick’s arm, already half-hard. Dick pulls the phone away from his ear slightly to inform Wally, like he doesn’t have a hand down his pants, “Steph is on her tenth crepe. This is their second day in Paris.”
“I like crepes,” Wally manages, fisting his hand in the comforter beneath them. “Maybe I’ll— ah, get us some for breakfast tomorrow.”
Dick grins at Wally’s stifled tone, bringing the phone back to his ear. Wally remembers, all of a sudden, the last time he called Barbara, when what was meant to be a quick update turned into half an hour of catching up, and he resolves to not let that happen this time. He slips a hand under Dick’s shirt, grazing the skin of his lower back, and Dick, with all his Bat-training, doesn’t react. He probably won’t react until he’s off the phone, but that’s not the point of this— the point is to make him want to get off the phone in the first place. Wally squeezes his hip, holding his hand there for a few moments before letting go and smoothing his fingers over the skin. “No, it’s okay,” Dick tells Barbara, innocent as can be. “We’re just taking a lazy day. You’re not interrupting anything. How did Cass like the Palais Garnier?”
God. Dick is managing a conversation about French opera with his hand down Wally’s pants. How did his life get to this point?
(He wouldn’t trade it for the world.)
“Yeah, I bet,” Dick says, planting his palm firmly on Wally’s thigh. “I’m sure Alfie’ll love to hear all about it. You know, Tim came over—”
Holy shit, Wally might die. Dick is rubbing circles on his inner thigh over his boxers, which would be a lot more manageable had he not been teasing him all day. He’s tapping a little too fast on Dick’s hip to try to distract himself from it, else he might actually lose his mind, and Dick, who is admittedly used to that, doesn’t react, just chats with Barbara over the phone without sparing Wally a glance.
He… didn’t realize he was into that.
Not the point, though. The point is that he’s achingly hard already, and Dick’s doing everything but touching him. If Wally had his way, they’d have fucked already, like, three times today. If Wally had his way, Dick wouldn’t have picked up the phone in the first place, but—
Wait.
Wally stills. It’s so fucking obvious, now that he’s made the connection. Why Dick has been teasing him all day. Why he’s been leaving him high and dry, getting him all worked up and then seemingly changing his mind out of nowhere. Dick wants him to do something about it. To put him in his place. To have his way. They’ve talked about it before, a little bit, and Wally is dominant sometimes, though usually neither of them fall into those roles, dominant and submissive; most often they’re both somewhere in between, chasing each other’s pleasure and their own. They’ve played around with Dick dominating Wally, actually bossing him around and all, but the other way around… they’ve only discussed it enough that Wally knows Dick is interested, really.
Personally, he’s also very interested.
Dick has a thing about being in control. It’s not just him— Wally is pretty sure all the Bats are like that, and so far, he has yet to be proven wrong. They don’t trust easily. And while Dick has let his guard down an incredible amount around Wally, he’s still a Bat. He still harbors that deep-rooted feeling that he should be in control whenever possible. For safety, or reassurance, or whatever it is that makes him so damn stubborn sometimes. Wally would really like to fuck that out of him.
“Baby.” Dick pulls him out of his thoughts with a squeeze of his thigh, now off the phone. Ah. He missed saying goodbye to Barbara. “Do you wanna—”
“No,” Wally says, not giving him the chance to suggest whatever it is this time. Dick raises his eyebrows in surprise. “I want to fuck you.”
Dick’s eyes go wide for a split second before he breaks into a grin, freeing his hand from Wally’s sweatpants so he can shift to face him. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. You’ve been playing with me all day,” Wally says, fumbling to straddle Dick’s hips, situating himself on his lap. Dick sucks in a sharp breath, hands finding Wally’s waist. “I think it’s only fair to say it’s my turn.” When Dick just licks his lips, face reddening, Wally asks, “Don’t you agree?”
“Yeah,” Dick breathes out, squirming slightly underneath Wally. He can’t wait to take him apart. “Until I pass out, remember?”
Wally pauses. He does remember, vaguely, some comment Dick had made the first time Wally topped him, a joke about his stamina. The thing is, it’s… he could do it. He can push himself to six or seven orgasms without trouble, and while Dick is more resilient than most, enough overstimulation will get to anyone. It’s just… a lot of power to be given. But Dick trusts him so much, and he wants this, and as nervewracking as it may be, Wally does too. Still, running his hands up Dick’s side, he asks, “You’re sure?”
“Positive,” Dick says, smiling. Something about his assurance stirs warmth deep in Wally’s stomach and up through his throat, spilling out of his mouth with a quiet squeak when Dick kisses him, little more than a peck, not nearly enough. “As long as you are. I’d say you’re certainly worked up enough for it.”
Yeah, he is. “I—” Wally frowns, heart fluttering insistently in his chest, still not over what he’s really gonna be allowed to do.
Dick tilts his head with that same teasing look he’s been giving him all day. “Yeah?”
“You planned this,” Wally mutters, warmth spreading over his cheeks, creeping down his neck; he’s sure he’s bright red.
“Yeah,” Dick repeats, like he’s trying to get it in Wally’s head just how much he wants this. It’s just… Wally still feels so new to all of this, even months in. The novelty of being with a guy at all still feels like it hasn’t worn off sometimes, though lately it’s more of a fluttery giddiness than a late-night, unshakeable dread, and sex being something he enjoys, something that can be more than simple fucking feels new, too. Being with Dick puts everything in a new light. “I love you,” Dick says, the words a reminder. A promise.
“I love you too,” Wally says, a little breathless. He takes a moment to regain his footing, though to Dick it’s probably a blink of an eye. When he feels he’s breathing steady again, he peels himself off Dick, darting his tongue out to wet his lips as he settles onto the bed beside him. “Let me undress you.”
“Anything you want.” Dick leans back on his palms, smiling at Wally like he can’t help himself. “It’s your turn, remember? I’m yours.”
Wally shivers at the declaration. The two of them have said those words a million times by now, but there’s something about Dick saying them like this that makes his heart clench. “Mine,” he agrees, pulling Dick’s arms up to tug his shirt over his head, tossing it aside to get lost somewhere in the bedsheets. There’s a mostly-faded hickey on his collarbone, and Wally presses a kiss to it, gentle, reverent. Dick has the prettiest chest (everything, he has the prettiest everything), toned and scarred and bruised and all him, all Wally’s. He never knew he had a possessive streak before Dick. He slides his hands around Dick’s waist, looking him over, and Dick melts into the touch, pliant in his palms. “You’re so…”
Dick sighs softly, and Wally leans in to kiss him, only giving his lips the briefest attention before moving down to his jaw, his neck, his sternum. Dick’s skin is hot under his touch, and he’s sucking in these tiny breaths at every kiss, a sort of quiet neediness, his anticipation building. It’s beautiful. Wally isn’t even sure he’s aware he’s doing it. “Fuck,” Wally mumbles against one of his pecs, pushing him down so he’s propped against the pillows, Wally’s thighs bracketing his hips; they’ll have to reposition him later, but for now, it works. Wally kisses one of his nipples before swiping his tongue over it, blindly reaching up to find the other. Dick shudders beautifully, back arching up into the touch.
“Ah—” Dick whimpers, cut off when Wally takes his nipple into his mouth and sucks. “Ah, Wally, I need…”
Wally pulls off to grin at him before shifting, leaning back on his thighs, and then rocking his hips right against him to let him feel how hard he is. “How many times do you think you’ll be able to cum for me?” he asks, pinching Dick’s nipple between his thumb and index.
Dick gasps softly, arching his back into the touch. “I— I don’t know.”
“Give me a number,” Wally says, gently rubbing at Dick’s nipple to soothe it before lifting his hand to Dick’s face, brushing dark hair away from his eyes.
Dick takes a shaky breath, pursing his lips in thought. “...Five?”
Wally grins, bending down to brush his lips over Dick’s forehead. “I’ll give you six.”
“Six,” Dick repeats, hushed. “You— please, I want…”
God, he’s adorable. Wally’s going to make him feel so good. “Tell me what you want, baby.”
Dick swallows, squirming his hips. “Will you suck me off?”
Wally laughs, ducking his head forward, hair falling into his eyes. It’s such a Dick thing to ask, is all. “Of course,” he says, smiling, small chuckles still escaping his mouth. “Yeah. Lemme just…”
He clambers off him in an awkward but quick shuffle of limbs, standing beside the bed. Dick just stares up at him, still mostly dressed, because Wally got a little distracted, and his eyes are so soft and sweet and he looks so pretty that Wally just melts, huffing out a frustrated breath. “How are you so cute? I don’t even… ugh. Lift your hips for me.”
Dick giggles, raising his hips like he was told so Wally can pull his shorts and boxers off easily. After tossing them aside, Wally crawls between his legs, lying between them. He traces his fingers over Dick’s inner thighs, presses down on some mostly-faded hickeys, and decidedly pays no attention to Dick’s pretty, aching cock, already wet at the tip. “You’re beautiful,” he says, just to watch his cock twitch.
“Wally,” Dick whines. He places one hand on Wally’s head to pet his hair, the other fisted into the comforter.
“Relax, baby,” Wally says, breathing out a laugh with the words. Dick whimpers, and Wally lifts his head to smile at him. “You know I’ll take care of you.”
Dick grumbles something Wally can’t quite make out, but it doesn’t matter, because Wally takes the tip of his cock into his mouth right after, swiping his tongue over the pre-cum that’s already built up. He can feel Dick tense in anticipation, and he readjusts his hands to hold the undersides of Dick’s thighs, keeping his legs spread wide.
(Wally feels absolutely blessed to have a super flexible gymnast boyfriend.)
Wally opens his mouth wider to slowly take Dick’s cock, letting it rest heavily on his tongue for a few moments (probably too fast for Dick to even notice the pause, though) before hollowing his cheeks and starting to suck, just how he knows Dick likes it. The effect is immediate: Dick curls his hand tightly in Wally’s hair, hips rocking up as much as he tries to hold them back. “Ah—”
He’s the whole world, Wally thinks. The whole fucking world, and he’s here in bed with his cock down Wally’s throat, and Wally wants to give him everything.
He pulls off Dick’s cock with a wet pop, unnecessarily noisy because Dick likes it that way. Dick starts to whimper in protest, but he stops when Wally looks up to meet his eyes — and his face is already flushed so dark, god, he’s beautiful — and moves one hand to take his middle and index fingers into his mouth, getting them extra wet. When he pulls them out, Dick’s eyes follow a droplet of spit that trails down the digits like a raindrop, and Wally smiles at him, even though he’s not looking at Wally’s face.
Wally does two things at once, without warning.
One: He takes the head of Dick’s cock back into his mouth and sucks hard.
Two: He presses both of his spit-wet fingers to Dick’s rim, applying pressure without actually pushing in.
Dick gasps, rutting his hips up and down desperately, torn between wanting to fuck into Wally’s mouth and wanting Wally’s fingers inside him. “Wally,” he says, and Wally lifts his head as much as he can to look at him while keeping his cock in his mouth. “Please, please, I need…”
“Don’t hold back, honey,” Wally tells him, the words a kiss against Dick’s tip, having only pulled off enough to speak. Dick whimpers, relaxing his hand slightly in Wally’s hair. “You can cum whenever you’re ready.”
With that, he swallows Dick’s cock back down, taking him as deep as he can at this angle. Dick bucks his hips up one, two, three times into Wally’s throat before he’s mewling, flooding Wally’s mouth with hot, sticky cum. Wally sucks him through it, lets him keep thrusting into his mouth to chase the high as long as he can. When he does pull off, he makes a show of looking up to meet Dick’s eyes and swallowing before opening his mouth to prove it.
Dick lets out a heavy breath, leaning down to grab for Wally’s shoulders and tug him up. Wally scrambles to crawl up between his legs, dropping his weight onto Dick’s chest. “I love you,” Dick says, cradling his cheek in one sweaty hand.
“I love you too,” Wally says; he barely finishes the sentence before Dick is kissing him, all breathy against his lips, pressing his tongue into his mouth. They stay that way for a few minutes, slowly making out, all tongue and hushed laughter and I love yous until Dick starts to get antsy again, rocking his hips up to get friction on Wally’s sweatpants. He’d be surprised if he hasn’t already leaked through them, truthfully.
“God,” Dick groans, hands coming up to grab at Wally’s waist before he flips them over, kissing him one more time when he’s on top of him before climbing off, sitting beside him on the bed. “Would you please get naked already?”
“I thought I was the one calling the shots tonight,” Wally says, grinning, but Dick’s right. He is very overdressed. He remedies that in a second, and before Dick can even get words out he’s rejoining him on the bed, nude, very hard. “That’s one, by the way.”
Dick blinks at him like he’s trying to decipher what he means before laughing. “Yeah, I think I got that,” he says, stretching his strong arms over his head. Wally already can’t wait to make him cum again.
“I want you to start counting,” Wally says, and the words are casual, his tone not even particularly seductive, but Dick’s breath hitches anyway, clearly caught off-guard.
“Yeah. Okay,” he says, leaning forward to kiss Wally again. He reaches into Wally’s lap to touch his cock, but as good as it feels, Wally swats him away. With a huff, he breaks their kiss, almost pouting when he meets Wally’s eyes. “What?”
“Don’t wanna cum until I’m fucking you,” Wally explains. He’s almost desperate for it, but he knows it’ll feel so much better inside Dick, and he’ll get plenty of chances later. For now, he wants to spoil his love.
Dick grumbles quietly to himself, pinkfaced, but he acquiesces, planting his hand firmly on Wally’s thigh. “Fine. Can we make that happen quicker?”
Wally laughs fondly, placing one hand over Dick’s, rubbing his thumb over a barely palpable scar. “Don’t get grumpy with me. You know you like it when I fill you up.”
“Yeah,” Dick breathes out, kissing Wally again. “You do too. Which you’ll remember if we ever get there.”
“You can’t talk about making someone wait,” Wally says, grinning into Dick’s mouth. “You teased me all day. Let me take my time with you. You know you’ll get what you want.” He flips their hands over to intertwist their fingers, squeezing Dick’s sweaty palm. “I always take care of you, don’t I?”
Dick sighs. “Yes,” he says quietly, always a little flustered whenever Wally talks about taking care of him.
“Exactly.” Wally smiles, bringing their woven hands to his face to press a kiss to the back of Dick’s hand, just because he’s feeling a little sappy now that he’s gotten him like this. He untangles their hands after that, shuffling across the bed to grab the lube from Dick’s — their? — nightstand. “Let’s get you comfy.”
They move some pillows around so Dick can lie down and relax with his neck supported, and Wally slides one under his hips to give him better access, lightly petting where Dick’s thigh meets his calf as he asks, “Good?”
Dick wiggles around a little, resting his hands on his tummy, just above his half-hard cock. “Mm, yeah.”
“Good,” Wally says, smiling. He leans over to kiss him one more time — he can’t help it, Dick is so pretty it makes him stupid — and nudges a bit of hair out of his eyes before settling between his legs and popping the lube cap open. “Try to relax for me, baby.”
Wally spreads Dick’s legs a little wider and just looks at him. He’s almost entirely hard again, his cock flushed and twitching in anticipation, and he’s really got the prettiest ass in the world, plush and shaved and a needy, tight hole that didn’t get filled until way too late in their relationship. When he starts to pour lube over his fingers, he realizes how full the tube is. Fuck. Dick really planned this, which he knows by now, but every reminder serves to turn him on a little more. Well, if they’ve got plenty to spare…
He tilts the tube upside down and lets cold lube drizzle over Dick’s sac. Dick shudders at the feeling, and Wally shudders at the sight of it, of the clear liquid dripping down his balls, over his taint, coating his entrance. He pushes one finger in without warning, fumbling to snap the lube cap shut and set it aside, and Dick gasps, squirming under the touch.
“Relax,” Wally reminds him, and little by little, some of the tension around his finger fades. He starts to thrust in and out of him at a leisurely pace, drifting his gaze up to meet Dick’s eyes. He’s so beautiful, his whole face flushed a gorgeous dark tint, his lips parted for each breathy whine that escapes them. “Yeah, there you are. So perfect for me.”
Dick whimpers, a desperate sort of sound that always makes Wally’s head feel a little fuzzy. He takes that as a cue to add a second finger, and when he does, Dick rocks his hips into his hand so needily Wally grabs his knee and squeezes, a silent reminder to loosen up. “Wally,” Dick breathes, clenching around his fingers just as Wally curls them to press against his prostate. “Wally, oh, fuck…”
“I know, sweetheart,” Wally says, trailing his hand down Dick’s thigh as he continues to rub circles into Dick’s most sensitive spot. Dick’s arching his back so hard his hips almost raise up above the pillow, but in a surprising show of restraint, he doesn’t touch his cock — hasn’t, this whole time. Wally didn’t even tell him not to. “Gonna make you cum like this. Get you all relaxed before I fuck you.”
Dick chokes on a moan, squeezing his eyes shut at the nonstop stimulation. Wally wants to kiss him, pretty as he is, but he can’t, not like this, so he settles for slipping his fingers out to go back in with three. “Fuck,” Dick hisses, grinding into Wally’s hand. Wally loves when he gets all needy like this, how he makes all these whimpery sounds and begs for nothing in particular and repeats Wally’s name over and over and over like he’s the only thing that matters.
“Still can’t believe you planned this,” Wally says, ‘cause his mind just keeps bringing it up. All day, was Dick just waiting for him to cave? Riling him up all for this, so Wally can fuck him and keep fucking him because he’s been worked up since the moment he opened his eyes this morning. “Couldn’t just ask me to fuck you. Had to tease me all day ‘til I did it myself.”
“Wally,” Dick whines, probably not processing much — if any — of that, but that’s fine. He doesn’t have to. All he has to do is lie here and look pretty, which he’s very, very good at, and let Wally make him cum, oh, five more times tonight. “Wally. Please, please, you—”
Make that four.
Dick cums with a wail, rutting uselessly into Wally’s hand, clenching around him as Wally continues to lightly stroke at his prostate, just enough to work him through his orgasm. He’s always extra sensitive like this, when he cums without any stimulation to his cock. He spills all over his abdomen, whimpering when Wally slips his fingers out of him and wipes them on the comforter.
“Hi, baby,” Wally says, shuffling to sit beside him on the bed, running a hand over his arm to remind him to untense, to calm down.
“Hi,” Dick breathes, blinking up at him, long eyelashes and dazed blue eyes, his whole face flushed. He smiles sleepily when he says, “That’s two.”
Wally laughs, leaning down to kiss him. He keeps it brief only because his own cock is aching with want, yet untouched, because he’s pretty sure he’ll die if he doesn’t fuck him, like, right now. “Stay put. I’m gonna grab a washcloth and some water.”
Dick groans when Wally moves to get up, but he doesn’t protest. Wally makes sure he’s barely gone a few seconds, because he knows how much it sucks to be left alone in Dick’s state; he grabs two water bottles, a wet washcloth, and a few protein bars to throw on the nightstand for later, and then he’s back by Dick’s side, cleaning him up. Dick drinks half a bottle of water and Wally drinks the rest. “You need a minute?” Wally asks, combing his fingers through Dick’s hair.
“I got a minute,” Dick says. He is looking a little better — his breathing calmer, his muscles relaxed, his face starting to return to a normal color. They’ve just never really done something like this, is the thing, so even though they’re still just getting started, he’s a little nervous about it. Dick, on the other hand, seems to be feeling great. He smiles up at Wally, grabbing his hand to give it a small squeeze. “Fuck me already. I’ve been waiting all day.”
“You’ve been waiting,” Wally mumbles, rolling his eyes. He leans down to press a quick kiss to Dick’s cheek before moving between his legs again, shuffling on the bed to find a comfortable position.
A few moments and a generous amount of lube later, Wally’s angling himself at Dick’s entrance, pressing the head of his cock against the tight ring of muscle. “Fuck,” Dick breathes when he pushes in, and Wally can’t help but glance back and forth between Dick’s face and where they’re connected. “Fuck, that’s good. Keep going.”
Right. Dick realized very soon after Wally topping became a thing that he apparently has such a weakness for being praised while on top. He tells him all sorts of sweet things, now, at least when he’s coherent enough; the words fall from his mouth so easily, like he’s just spilling his thoughts. Part of why Wally’s so affected.
With a few more slow thrusts, Wally bottoms out, his whole body warm, aching with want. Dick squeezes his eyes shut and squirms below him and adjusts to the stretch, letting his body remember. God, this is… Dick’s not even hard again yet, but he’s already shallowly rocking his hips up into Wally’s cock, like he’s starving for it. He’s so fucking tight and hot around him and his eyes are screwed shut, long dark eyelashes bumping his cheeks, and he’s, he’s everything. Wally’s gonna give him everything. “Please,” he breathes out, painfully hard, “please, can I move—”
“Yes,” Dick says, “yes, move, I need—”
He’s cut off with a choked-out moan as Wally starts to fuck into him. He means to take it slow, but Dick feels so good and he’s been waiting all day to get off and Dick is making the prettiest whimpery noises, fisting his hands into the comforter, cock starting to twitch with interest again every time Wally bumps his prostate. Wally knows distantly that he’s making similar sounds, but everything is drowned out by Dick and how he gasps below him, how he’s already gotten off twice but is starting to get hard again anyway because of Wally, how he clenches around him, and Wally loves him, he loves him so much it aches.
“M’not gonna last,” Wally warns him, though he’s honestly not sure whether or not he says it at a speed Dick can understand. At the same time, he wraps a hand around Dick’s cock, trying to coax him to full hardness again.
Dick whimpers, blinking his eyes open to look at Wally, and there are tears in his eyes and Wally’s about to check in that it’s not too much when he begs, “Please, wanna feel you cum in me, want, I want…”
“I am,” Wally says, breathy, “I will, I’m close, I—” He doesn’t get a warning before Dick tightens around his cock and then heat is flowing through him and he’s cumming hard, his breathing going unsteady, his whole body going limp.
Well. Almost his whole body. He’s still achingly hard, buried deep inside Dick, and when he comes to his senses enough to realize this, he can feel that Dick is hard in his hand, too. He’s still shallowly thrusting into Dick, trying to be careful not to overstimulate him too much because they’re just getting started and even though Dick thinks he can take anything, he is still human, and not even meta at that.
“Feels so good,” Dick mumbles, trying to rut up into his hand. “Keep going, please, s’good, not gonna hurt me, I want— want you to make me cum again, please, Wally.”
God, even in his fucked-out haze, he can still tell Wally’s getting a little nervous. “Okay, okay,” Wally says, upping his pace slightly, carefully this time, and rubbing his thumb over the head of Dick’s cock. “I love you.”
“Love you,” Dick says, voice a little strained. He’s so beautiful, and Wally can see himself fucking his cum back into Dick, can see where it’s dripping out of him when he pulls back.
“Fuck,” Wally breathes out, the sight overwhelming. He speeds up his hand on Dick’s cock, vibrating it a little, and in turn slows down his thrusts just a little to focus but it’s okay because Dick mewls when he feels it, jerking up hard into his hand.
“Wally,” Dick cries, “ah, please, please, fuck me—”
With a few particularly hard thrusts and nonstop vibration on his cock, Dick cums with a sob, clenching tight around Wally, his whole body seeming to deflate. It’s a lot less this time, and most of it lands in Wally’s hand; Dick whimpers when Wally removes his hand and licks it off, and suddenly Wally really wants to get his mouth on him again, but he knows he’s too oversensitive for it right now.
“Three,” Dick manages, his eyes pointed firmly at Wally’s mouth, watching his tongue dart out to swipe up a little bit of cum he accidentally smudged on his face. “Keep going. Please.”
Wally’s eyes go wide, and he glances over Dick, who looks well-fucked, to put it simply. He’s flushed all over, chest gleaming with sweat, hands fisted into the bedding, cock soft but still deeply blushed, hole stretched around Wally’s cock still buried deep in him — he’s breathtaking. “You’re—” Wally swallows, his whole body searing hot. “Are you sure?”
“M’sure, please, Wal.” Dick bucks his hips against him to make his point. “Want you to cum in me again. And I’m still too lucid.”
Well, he makes a compelling argument. Wally starts to move again, so slow every drag of his cock inside Dick is almost painful, with how hard he is. He doesn’t speed up until Dick’s breathing starts to even out, but when he finally does it’s an all-consuming feeling; Dick is whimpering below him, rocking on his cock even though he must be so sensitive right now, and it only encourages Wally to fuck into him harder, chasing his own pleasure. He wants so bad his head is fuzzy, and he doesn’t even know what it is he wants, just that his chest almost hurts with it, and he wonders how Dick must feel, fucked-out beneath him, how rabbit-fast his heart must be beating, if this is everything he wished for when he planned out today.
“Fuck,” Wally breathes, planting a hand on Dick’s thigh as he fucks him, hard and unrelentless. “You’re so good, feel so good, you’re perfect,” he babbles, and he’s not even sure whether or he’s talking slow enough for Dick to understand him, but Dick whines either way, ultra-sensitive.
Dick’s saying something, too, probably along the lines of whatever Wally’s blabbing, but it’s all a bit of a blur because he’s so stupidly close, everything firey-hot, and all of a sudden Dick clenches tight around him and he’s gone, squeezing Dick’s thigh hard as his second orgasm rushes through him. He stays buried inside Dick while he recovers, cum dribbling out between them.
It’s only when Dick manages a quiet, “Four,” that Wally looks up, wide-eyed, and sees that oh, wow, there really is new cum dripping down the side of Dick’s cock. He hadn’t even realized he’d gotten hard again.
Shit, his boyfriend is fucking incredible.
Wally’s slow and careful when he pulls out of him, even though he’s pretty sure Dick wouldn’t complain even if he were the opposite. He looks absolutely blissful — overstimulated, sure, but his eyes are hazy with want and he smiles up at Wally like he’s never been happier. “You didn’t have to stop,” he says, all innocent-like. “I’m awake.”
Look: Wally knows Dick wants him to keep going and going and going, to entirely overwhelm him with it. He doesn’t doubt that. He just… how is he supposed to not stop to check in? It’s not like he doesn’t trust Dick to say something if it’s truly too much. Dick knows his limits. It’s just that checking in feels like it’s become such a part of his routine that of course he pulled out without thinking about it to give Dick a break.
“Do you want me to keep going?” Wally asks, ‘cause even though he’s pretty sure he knows the answer — and trust, neither he nor his cock are opposed to it — he’d like to hear Dick say it out loud.
“Please,” Dick says. He sounds unbelievably certain. “Know you can cum a few more times. Want you to fuck me ‘til you’re tired of it. Please, Wally?”
Wally takes a deep breath, gently petting Dick’s thigh. “Okay,” he says, and Dick smiles so sweetly it melts him a little. “You really just want me to use you, huh?”
Dick whimpers, tilting his head so his cheek presses into the pillow, and oh, oh. He does. It’s something he’s said in the heat of the moment a few times, but they’ve never talked about it past that. “God,” Wally mumbles, because Dick looks so pretty, legs spread just for him, blush running all the way down his chest, cum leaking out of his stretched hole. “Okay. I can do that, baby. Let me…”
He reaches over to grab the unopened water bottle from the nightstand; Dick sits up in an almost-crunch and drinks a little more than a quarter of it. Wally takes a few sips, too, before setting it back down and turning his attention back to Dick. “Ready?”
“Please,” Dick breathes.
“Okay.” Wally pauses, just for a split-second, before he decides something: “On your hands and knees?”
Dick’s eyes widen, and he scrambles to do as he’s told, pushing the pillows that were underneath him out of the way in favor of two under his head; he shoves his cheek into the pillow and his ass into the air, and it’s fucking everything. Wally can’t help but stare. He grabs his ass with both hands, spreading him open to look at his used, sore hole, and fuck, he doesn’t think he’s ever been this turned on.
This time, Wally doesn’t start slow. This time, he fucks him exactly how his body wants it: hard, fast, unrestrained. Or— slightly restrained. He knows he could seriously hurt Dick with the sheer speed of things if he doesn’t hold back, and that’s the last thing he wants. For what it’s worth, though, he doesn’t have to think too hard about it. He knows his body, knows the limit, even if they’ve never quite done something like this before.
Dick practically sobs beneath him, so fucking beautifully, too, dampening the pillow, and it only encourages Wally to keep going. To ruin him. He can get so deep in this position, hips slamming into Dick’s with every thrust — if that doesn’t bruise, Wally’s hands gripping his ass just might. He hopes it does, mildly, if only to give him a physical reminder every time he sits down — or every time Wally touches his ass.
“Wal,” Dick pants, hardly a word. “Talk to me, please, it’s, ah— it’s so much—”
“Fuck,” Wally manages, and he’s not totally sure how well he can manage to talk at an understandable speed right now, but he’ll try anyway, for Dick. “You’re so beautiful. You look so good like this, all blushy and hot and, and used, fuck, I love you. Look like you’re all mine.”
“I am yours,” Dick says, clenching tight around him, arms wobbling slightly. “Love you so, so much.”
“I love you,” Wally says again, and then his orgasm is hitting him so fast, so unexpectedly that it feels so much stronger than anything else tonight.
Miraculously, he manages to grabble for Dick’s cock in the heat of it, and that has Dick crying out loud enough to ensure a noise complaint. Wally fucks him through all of it, and Dick practically crumples beneath him, not bothering to hold himself up anymore and then Wally realizes it’s because he can’t and the panic that realization stirs in him is only slightly weaker than the absolute arousal that overtakes his body, because holy shit, he did that to him. He pulls his hand off his cock, ‘cause he thinks that might be too-too much, but he doesn’t, can’t stop fucking him, not when Dick is so pretty and pliant beneath him, tear-stained face smushed into the pillow, not when he’s still so stupidly hard even after cumming, God, three times now.
Wally holds him up, thrusting into him sloppily; at this point it’s just his cum keeping Dick’s hole slick, but there’s enough of it that it’s fine, for right now, that anything’s fine, because he just needs, he needs to get off again, one more time. His grip on Dick’s hips is firm, maybe-probably-definitely gonna bruise, and everything is so hot and so much when he cums again, and then collapses onto Dick.
He takes a few good, long moments to catch his breath. When he comes to, Dick is craning his head back to look at him over his shoulder, and his face screams wrecked. Wally doesn’t know if he’s ever seen him this flushed. He’s certainly never seen him this fucked out, face wet with tears and sweat, hair sticking up everywhere, lips bitten dark.
“Baby,” he says, slowly, so slowly pulling out of him; Dick winces anyway, despite Wally’s best efforts. He shuffles to sit beside him, tugging Dick up into his arms to hold him close, pressed against his chest. “Hey. How’re you feeling?”
Dick squirms, shifting to sit up a little better so he can bury his face between Wally’s neck and his shoulder. “So good. Thank you. That’s— five.”
Wally breathes out a laugh, surprised — he’d been so caught up in his own pleasure, he hadn’t even realized Dick had had another orgasm. “Five,” he repeats, fumbling to cradle Dick’s face in his hands to lift him up and look at him. “Think we’ll leave it at five tonight. You were so good, you know that?”
Dick preens, grinning warmly. “Mm. Carry me to the bath?”
Wally does, of course. His own legs are a little shaky, but he’s sure Dick feels much rougher, so he deals with it: scoops him up bridal-style and brings him right to the bathtub — he’s not sure he’s ever been more grateful Dick chose an apartment with a big one. After he turns on the tap (as hot as possible, of course) he’s super quick to grab more bottled water for the both of them. He doesn’t want Dick to miss him, after all. He intends on shuffling around so he can sit behind Dick and hold him, but Dick insists that he holds Wally instead, and who is he to say no to that, really.
They spend a good few minutes in silence, bar the running water. It’s Dick who breaks it: “So, how was that?”
Wally laughs. “Good,” he says, tilting his head up to try to glance at Dick behind him. It doesn’t work that well — he just bumps his head against Dick’s chin. “Great. I’ve never seen you so— I don’t know. Fucked.”
“I’ve never been so fucked,” Dick points out, kissing Wally’s hair and squeezing his waist.
“What about you?” Wally asks, even though he’s pretty sure he knows the answer. “Was it everything you hoped for?”
“Better,” Dick says, all sappy-like. Wally laughs, fumbling to grab at the edge of the tub and twist himself to half-face Dick so he can kiss him.
They kiss until the water starts to tiptoe the border of lukewarm and cold, mostly chaste, giggly, sleepy kisses. Then, now that their legs are a little more capable, they shower. Wally washes both of their bodies; Dick shampoos them both. They dry off with big fluffy towels Wally is pretty sure were taken straight from the Manor, and, towel wrapped around his waist, Wally lifts Dick’s dripping hair to press a kiss to his forehead. “I’ll change the bedding while you blow-dry your hair, okay?”
Dick sighs, clearly just wanting to go to bed, but he nods. He always hates going to bed with wet hair — gets so annoyed with himself about it in the morning — so if he didn’t want to dry it himself, Wally was just going to do it for him. Good that they can get both done at the same time, though. Gets them to bed quicker.
(Wally ends up doing most of the drying of Dick’s hair himself anyway — superspeed and all means switching the bedding isn’t a very lengthy process. In return, Dick blow-dries Wally’s hair for him, even though he’s perfectly fine going to sleep with his hair wet. It’s really nice.)
“How about this,” Wally says, nose-to-nose with Dick once they’re both under the covers — hair dry, protein bars eaten, teeth brushed. “I’ll give you number six in the morning.”
Dick nods, grinning like he’s got something more to say, but he doesn’t. Just squirms, wrapping his arm around Wally’s waist, tugging his body closer. “What?” Wally asks, laughing.
“Hmm,” Dick says, still smiling, like he’s a little nervous. Wally can’t help but smile, too. “How about you wake me up with it?”
Ah. That’s— shit. Dick Grayson is gonna be the death of him. “I— yeah?” Wally asks, blinking incredulously. “You wanna wake up with my mouth on your cock?”
“Wally,” Dick groans, shoving forwards to press his face into Wally’s neck. “You can’t just say that. I don’t think I can physically get hard again tonight and I am not trying to test that.” He must decide, after a quiet huff, that it is, in fact, a genuine question, because he mumbles into Wally’s neck, “Yes, I want that.”
Wally grins, kissing Dick’s hair. Looks like he has something to look forward to now. “Sweet dreams, baby.”
Dick just sighs and pulls him impossibly closer.
As expected, Wally wakes up before Dick.
He usually does, when Dick bottoms, but it was extra-expected this morning, with just how much he put Dick through last night. They were both counting on it, of course.
Dick is super pretty when he sleeps — he’s pretty all the time, but there’s something about seeing him like this, relaxed and resting, lips slightly parted, long eyelashes brushing his cheeks, that’s extra appealing. He isn’t too light of a sleeper, especially after being fucked the night before, but Wally is still extra-careful when he slowly peels himself away, shifting Dick with cautious hands to lie on his back rather than his side. Thankfully, Dick doesn’t react; he doesn’t want to wake him before they get to the good part.
Wally barely breathes when he pulls the blanket off both of them, letting it pile up on the side of the bed. He doesn’t think he takes a real breath until he’s positioned himself between Dick’s thighs, legs folded underneath him, elbows planted firmly on the bed on either side of Dick’s thighs to hold himself up. It’s not the most comfortable position, but it’s the least risky; he can always adjust when Dick wakes up.
For now, he ducks his head, opens his lips wide, and slowly takes Dick’s soft cock into his mouth, a familiar weight on his tongue. He didn’t really get Dick’s fixation with giving head when they first got together. Recieving, sure, but he’d thought it was crazy how easily Dick could get off from giving Wally a blowjob. He gets it, now. He thinks it might have something to do with just how in love with him he is. He loves how much Dick loves it, or something like that. Even so, he can’t deny the appeal of the physical feeling anymore; it forces him to relax, his jaw and his throat and his mind, and he’s sure that feeling is even stronger for Dick.
Dick tenses beneath him, and Wally freezes, but it’s just that: tensing. He’s still asleep, still breathing steady. Wally wonders if he’ll dream about this. He’s never done anything like this — initiating while his partner’s asleep, or vice versa. There’s this anxious anticipation stirring in his stomach for when Dick inevitably wakes up during this. He thinks he likes it.
He starts slow, as he always does when he gives head, gently mouthing at his soft cock, running his tongue along the underside of it, willing his throat to remember and relax. It’s not long before Dick is half-hard in his mouth, cock bumping the back of Wally’s throat; he pulls back to pay attention to his tip, swirling his tongue over the head, taking his time. Dick starts to stir: first with a soft, breathy sound, then a shift of his hips, a gentle upwards thrust, seeking the warmth of Wally’s mouth again. Of course, he gives it to him.
This, Wally thinks, is what Dick deserves. Maybe he’s just smitten, but it feels true. Dick’s so good to him, so sweet — he deserves to wake up sometimes to his boyfriend’s lips wrapped around his cock, deserves pleasure to be the first thing he feels in the morning.
Wally loves him so, so much.
He coaxes Dick’s cock to attention with slow, gentle sucks, wanting to draw this out. It’s like Dick’s mind and cock wake up at the same time — he draws in a sharp, surprised breath, going harder in Wally’s mouth, and that’s how Wally knows he’s awake. He tilts his head to glance up at him while keeping his lips wrapped around his cock, and Dick smiles at him, shuffling to sit up on his elbows. “Good morning.”
Wally pulls off with a kiss to Dick’s tip. “Morning, baby. Something wake you?”
Dick hums. “Just a good dream.”
Both laughing, softly, sleepily, they shuffle to get into a position that’s a little more comfortable for both of them: Dick propped up against rearranged pillows, Wally on his front between his legs, Dick’s heels pressed into his back. Wally likes it this way — this way, he can rut into the bed while he gets Dick off, though maybe he’ll try to refrain this time around. He doesn’t wanna have to wash another set of sheets today.
Dick cards a hand through Wally’s hair, yawning as he looks down at him. Wally yawns, too, and then takes advantage of his already-open mouth to lower himself back onto Dick’s cock. Dick laughs — okay, yeah, Wally can admit it’s definitely not as hot as he thought it could be — but it quickly turns into a moan when Wally hollows his cheeks and starts to actually pay attention to his cock, now that he doesn’t have to worry about waking him.
“Oh,” Dick breathes, heavy, his hand curling in Wally’s hair, just tight enough to tug at the roots. “Fuck, you’re— that’s so good. Keep going.”
Like Wally is even considering stopping. He pauses, briefly, to gather a bunch of spit in his mouth before diving back in. He licks and sucks at Dick’s cock, everything so wet it’s almost like they used lube, but better, ‘cause all he can taste is cock and his own spit and the salty precum that’s found its way to his tongue. He takes Dick deep in his mouth, and doesn’t stop him when he starts to fuck up into his throat, just breathes carefully through his nose and lets him take whatever he needs. Just like Dick let him do to him last night.
Dick is less rough than he is purposeful, fucking Wally’s mouth exactly how he likes it, how he needs it. Wally doesn’t mind that he’s a little rough, though — it’s just making him harder, thinking about how Dick’s focus is on his own pleasure, on taking what he wants.
“Fuck,” Dick manages, the bed creaking under his weight as his cock bumps the back of Wally’s throat again and again. “You feel so good. So warm.”
Wally swallows around him, wanting to make it perfect for Dick, even though he seems pretty content already, whimpering and moaning Wally’s name even though he’s the one doing all the work. His voice is so nice, especially in the early morning like this when it’s still heavy and raspy with sleep; sometimes when they’re apart Wally will get off to old voicemails and audio messages, and it works wonders.
The real thing is better, though. Recordings can’t quite capture the way he always breathes in sharply before babbling out praise-filled nonsense, or the subtle whines he probably doesn’t even realize he’s letting out, and they certainly can’t compare to the feeling of Dick’s cock deep in his throat while he rambles sweet nothings because he’s feeling so much he just needs to say something.
“Perfect.” Dick’s voice trembles slightly when he speaks, his thrusts starting to stutter. “So perfect, you, you’re— Wally, ah, please, just—”
Wally slips one hand up to lightly stroke Dick’s sac. Moving his arm jolts their position a little, but it’s worth it for the way Dick whimpers when Wally starts to caress his balls, slightly wet from the spit that’s dripped onto them. “Wally,” Dick cries, arching his back, starting to spill into Wally’s throat before jerking out to cum on his face. Wally squeezes his eyes shut in surprise, loosely humping the bed at how good it feels, Dick’s sticky cum painting the lower half of his face. (He’s grateful Dick’s lucid enough to carefully aim away from his hair.)
Dick takes a heavy breath, loosening his hand in Wally’s hair to gently rub his scalp as Wally blinks his eyes back open. “Beautiful,” Dick whispers, grinning at him for a second before scrambling out of bed, only to return a few moments later with a wet washcloth to wipe Wally’s face off. He sits in front of Wally, so their knees bump, and kisses him lightly. “Love you.”
“I love you too,” Wally says, laughing softly into Dick’s mouth.
Dick grins against his lips, tilting his head forward to press their foreheads together. “Oh, and Wally?”
“Hm?”
One more kiss, square on his lips. “That was six.”