[Warning for underage drinking]
---- From chapter 12 ----
W: So, you started drunk-talking to me in French last night
W: Little weird
W: Lotta sexy
----
Roy made a show of presenting the liquor to the team, holding two glass bottles by their necks in each hand, and wearing a drunken, but convening grin.
Robin gave a lopsided smile, never one to protest fun, and abandoned the controller in his hands and whatever video-game he had been beating Wally at. He made quick, almost lazy work of looping the security footage, and Roy took his actions as a victory.
No less than three minutes ago, Roy had stumbled into the cave with a collection of alcohol, yelling at the computerized voice, despite the fact that his name had been announced as 'Red Arrow.' Roy's eyes were slightly red and his face was flushed, showing that he had already been drinking and clear thinking had checked out, but that wasn't uncommon in Roy even when he was sober. His hair was unkempt and it looked like he hadn't shaved that day.
"Come on guys!" His voice was slightly slurred, urging the rest of the team to follow Robin's lead, and with Kaldur gone there was no one to be the voice of reason. It only took a moment before Roy was welcomed into the living-room-like space, shuffling over his own feet and dropping to the ground next to Robin and Wally like a sack of bricks.
Artemis disappeared into the kitchen to retrieve the well-hidden shot glasses that they kept at the cave, her blonde hair done up in a tall bun. When she returned, she set each one on the table in a row, a small slam radiating from each one as it struck the glass coffee table. Artemis gave a wave, as if being welcomed onto a stage, and stole the fullest bottle from Roy's collection.
She threw it into the air and Roy made a sound of fear from the back of his throat, a high-pitched whine he would never replicate while sober. The bottle spun in the air above their heads while gravity took hold of it and it fell into Artemis's waiting hand. She spun the cap off and, with unmatched skill, tipped the bottle nearly completely upside down and dragged it across the trail of shot glasses she had made. She bowed in an over-the-top fashion, her arms spread out at her sides. She hit Wally over the back of the head as she righted herself, and was rewarded with a loud round of applause from every pair of hands in the room.
Conner stood with a grunt as a way of farewell, his blue eyes scanning over the others before he disappeared down the hallway, Wolf trailing behind him. The Kryptonian was completely immune to the effects of alcohol- unlike Wally, who simply needed lots of strong alcohol in steady supply- which didn't stop him from accepting every drinking challenge ever presented to him, but he was either not in the mood or didn't feel like watching Wally and Robin drunk-flirt. Megan watched after him, their eyes flashing as they spoke into the always open link the two had. They reached for the closest glass, bringing the glass to their lips and tipping their head back with taught skill. Wally's eyes followed their movements as they set the glass back down and rushed in the same direction as Conner, ignoring Roy's childish 'ohhh' that followed them.
Wally yelped as Robin's elbow dug into his side. He straightened up and gave the ninja an innocent smile, rubbing the back of his neck and craning his neck to look over his shoulder as Robin's eyes looked behind him. The redhead glared at Artemis as she sat on the couch, a level over him since he has been kicked onto the floor hours ago, and he made no move to grab a drink. Wally knew one thing, a drunk Dick was a fun Dick, meaning Wally had full intentions of staying sober. Roy hadn't brought enough alcohol to get him anything more than buzzed for a few minutes anyway.
Artemis returned his look and the two did nothing but glare at each other, each queuing up topics to argue about and insults to throw, as Dick and Roy quietly drank and made fun of them.
"I bet they'll end up together," Roy said, in what would have been hushed tone, if not for the fact that he had said it at a normal volume in a quiet room.
"Nah, he'd totally pick me over her," Dick returned, louder, watching Artemis out of the corner of his eye.
Hearing the would-be-hushed conversation, Wally's eyes widened and he reached for a shot, unable to sit through it without at least the illusion of drunkenness. He swallowed past the bite of the drink and set the glass back in front of him where he could easily refill it.
"Prove it." Roy's words rung out so slurred Wally nearly missed them entirely, his breath catching as he choked on the alcohol in his throat, coughing in an ugly show of shock what he realized Roy was provoking Robin's natural competitiveness. Robin gave Roy a level look as if asking for a real challenge next time, drinking his fourth, fifth, and sixth shot one after the other.
Robin pushed his knees off the cold floor and stood on swaying feet, fueled by liquid stupidity and his own ego. Wally craned his neck and watched as Robin stood from his lap and instead placed himself in front of the archer, who had two now-empty glasses that weren't there before Roy's declaration in front of her.
Robin gave her a look and towered over the still-sitting blond. Artemis, never one to back down from a challenge, read his look with ease and leaned forward to grab two separate glasses, nearly spilling them as the liquid swished back and forth in her tipsy grip, handing one to Robin and claiming the other for herself.
They clinked their glasses together, Dick sitting across from her on the table, and Wally gave Roy his best glare.
----
The light faded from the telephone booth as the Zetatube powered down, leaving the two drunken boys in the golden shadow of Central city's fading sunlight, one of them shushing the computerized voice. After abandoning the dead-end alleyway the boys stumbled out into the darkening streets, clinging to each other for support and only managing to drag each other down more.
Making it to the Allen-West household took longer than it would have if both boys were sober, calm, and aware of where they were going before Dick was rapping his knuckles on the red door and Wally was digging in a potted plant looking for the spare key.
"AUNT IRIS!" Dick called, standing on his tippy toes and closing one eye to peek inside the glass window of the door, oblivious to the dirty looks from neighbours and onlookers.
"AHHA!" Wally yelled suddenly, holding the spare key in his hand and standing up so fast that when Dick spun to look at him he crashed into himself. The bird would have landed roughly on the front porch if not for Wally, the speedster rushed to catch his ninja and the two ended up in what Wally could only see as a dip.
"Merci," the bird purred, one hand raising to loop around the speedster neck while the other removed the hand Wally was using to support the younger's back, remaining in the same position with his own strength, and replacing it slightly lower than the center of his back, before his free hand joined the other at Wally's neck. One of his legs rose and locked around Wally's, and Wally was reminded that Dick actually knew how to dance the tango.
"Prier," Wally slurred with a bad accent, distracted by thoughts of Dick dancing, using the little French he remembered from ninth grade. Dick chuckled, recognizing Wally's bad french even in his drunken state, and lifted his body higher, closer to the speedster.
Wally pulled Dick up and out of the dip-like position, taking a step back so that they didn't both fall, despite the fact that the bird seemed perfectly comfortable. One of his hands slipped from around Dick's waist and pulled Dick's left hand from around his neck. Wally laced their hands together and Dick dropped his other hand to Wally's shoulder without needing to be qued. They spun in dramatic circles and Dick rose one of his legs higher and higher until it was extended fully and Wally spun him in a circle as if he were a ballerina in a music box.
He lowered his leg again, pressing against Wally's chest, and Wally moved with him easily. They alternated steps and Wally smiled with the knowledge that they were both hearing the same violins.
Dick moved like water, reaching each of his arms out with Wally at his back and Wally braced one hand around his chest, then at Dick's knee as the shorter bent and raised his leg. Wally lifted Dick easily, the other still far too light, over his shoulder and in a spin before re-depositing him on the creaky wooden porch. Wally was reminded that he actually knew how to dance the tango, and his breath came short when he remembered the day Dick taught him; in the middle of a filled, high-end restaurant. Even as the air temperature dropped, the space around them remained warm, fighting off the cold.
Suddenly, Dick broke off, stumbling away from Wally and towards the door, so gracefully it felt like a natural end to their dance. It took him four tries before he was able to get the key in the lock, whatever gratefulness he had just demonstrated disappearing, turning the doorknob and shrugging his full weight onto the door before tripping through the doorway.
Giggling to himself, Dick turned back to Wally, who looked extremely lost at Dick's abandonment of their dance, and reached out for him, opening and closing his hand until Wally took it. Dick tugged on Wally's arm roughly, the chill from outside finally getting to him.
Wally stumbled into the house, nearly hitting his shoulder off the doorframe, and closed the distance between them, Dick arching his back and Wally following in a dull echo of their lost dance, kicking off his shoes and waiting for Dick to mimic him.
"Je veux que tu m'embrasses," Dick mumbled into the air between them, looping his arms around Wally's waist with drunken movements.
Wally, who's buzz had finally worn off thanks to his metabolism, blinked at him, the words falling on his ears as unknown gibberish. Ignoring the way Dick's touch burned his skin and his growingly sober state, Wally straightened up and moved for the kitchen, pulling Dick along behind him.
"Où allons-nous?" he heard Dick ask, as he felt along the wrong wall for the light switch that hadn't moved in the four years he'd lived in the house before giving up and stepping through the archway into the darkroom and onto the tiled floor.
Dick squeaked with all the dignity of a mouse as the cold floor chilled him from his toes up and Wally nearly fainted. After taking deep breaths of stale air, Wally continued in the darkness of the room, leaving Dick to sit on one of the high stools that paired with the island in the middle of the room. Wally reached for the cabinets, debating whether he should grab a glass for each of them, but after stealing a look at Dick he realized the sixteen-year-old wouldn't be sobering up for a few hours, no matter how much water he drank.
Wally set his hands on the sides of the kitchen sink and hung his head, willing the growing headache away. He knew it would wear off quickly, the record for him being hungover no more than ten minutes, but that didn't mean it wasn't a bitch to deal with for those long, long minutes.
He didn't speak until he had drowned his third glass of water and got his heart rate under control, only for his mindfulness to fly out the window as he felt Dick at his back. He could feel Dick's chin as he pressed it against the speedster's shoulder blades, his thin but strong arms winding around Wally's waist and hooking his fingers around his belt loops, pushing up against the speedster.
"J'ai froid!" he heard the bird's muffled voice and he could feel the pout in his voice. Despite Wally's foggy thinking- which he was totally blaming the alcohol for- he understood Dick's simple sentence and was suddenly aware of how cold the room seemed.
"Me too," he mumbled, turning around in Dick's grip, hoping to recover from the way the touch short-circuited his brain, "me too."
He only managed to make it worse as he was suddenly the victim of Dick's exposed, and slightly dilated pupils, as blue as ever. With sudden exhaustion and a semi-functional thought process, Wally reached down and took Dick's wrists in his hands, pulling them up to his chest.
"Let's go to bed, alright?" he said slowly, making sure that Dick could still understand him, and he really hoped the bird could because he had no idea how to say that in French. Dick nodded, his eyes slipping shut- somehow Wally was grateful they weren't focused on him anymore and missing them at the same time- as if he would sleep where he was standing. Dick sagged in Wally's lazy grip, forcing the speedster to catch him for a second time that night, and breathed out softly because apparently bats can sleep on command now. Go figure.
Gathering Dick in his arms in an unsteady bridal style, Wally scowled, Dick was light, too light. The scowl not leaving his lips, Wally made his way back to the living room, leaving Dick's mask of the island where he had abandoned it. Turning through the door frame and stumbling into the living room, Wally made his way to the couch, pausing halfway and staring at the open front door. With a sigh, Wally readjusted Dick in his arms and crossed the room, using his entire body to maneuver the door shut.
Wally leaned against the door for only a second, his head pounding and Dick shifting in his arms. Dick looked so pretty in the moonlight that swam in through the living room windows that Wally found himself consumed by the urge to kiss him. He let out a slow breath, clenching his jaw and eyes closed. He wouldn't kiss Dick while they were both sober, so he won't do it now either. It wouldn't be fair to Dick.
He gave himself one last minute to stare at Dick's slightly parted lips, his long, dark eyelashes, standing out against his pale skin, then he was across the room and sitting on the couch with Dick in his lap. He pulled a blanket off the back of the couch and shifted until he was lying across the length of the couch, Dick pressed flush against him to avoid falling off the couch.
Throwing the blanket over their forms Wally laid back and finally- finally- let his eyes slip shut, listening to Dicks steady breathing until he fell asleep with the ninja in his arms.
----
When Wally woke up it was past noon, and he was alone with the memory of a headache.
Stretching through a yawn and reaching up to press the palms of his hands into his eyes he paused, patting his forehead for a few seconds before pulling his hands back with a sticky note in them. Wally had to read Dick's somehow perfect calligraphy three times before his tired mind could manage to label it as a brief apology and an explanation of 'Ivy started stirring up trouble.' Wally sighed, rolling the note in his hands until it was a ball of paper and blue ink before abandoning it on the coffee table. He didn't bother re-folding the blanket, planning to return to the couch soon enough, and headed for the kitchen, nearly tripping over his own shoes, which he had apparently decided to leave in the middle of the room.
He didn't think to check his phone until he was sitting at the island with his fourth bowl of cereal, and had to pat himself down twice before pulling the device from his back pocket.
He had the typical sarcastic 'good morning, Sunshine' from a hungover Roy, along with a dark-tinted photo of him and Dick asleep on the couch from his aunt that made his cheeks burn red, but no messages from Dick and he ignored the tinge of pain that clawed at his heart. He typed quickly, having to re-type the word 'weird' three times before he could spell it right.
W: So, you started drunk-talking to me in French last night
W: Little weird
W: Lotta sexy
He waited a few seconds for a response and when it didn't come he rolled his eyes and returned to his breakfast, ignoring the way his eyes drifted to his phone between every bite.
When his phone did ding with the unique ringtone that he had set for Dick, it was a bad pick up line about how many other languages the bird could speak to him in the dark of night and Wally didn't hide the grin that played on his lips for the rest of the day. There was no one to see it anyway, no one to call him out on his obviously love-struck expression.