Fandom: Young Justice
Characters: Dick Grayson/Wally West
Rated: K+
Word Count: 3519

Summary: Wally visits Dick on the anniversary of his parent's death and takes him on a picnic at the lake.

A little bit of angst given the day, but this is mostly cavity inducing fluff, fluff, fluff, watery hijinks and fluff.

Notes: Written with ninjawing at Tumblr

~Chapter 1~

The blue sparkles of the zeta beams scattered around Wally, and he blinked into the darkness of the Batcave. It was empty; his footsteps echoed between the drip of water falling over the distant underground pools that housed the Batsubs.

"Dick?"

He hitched the wooly plaid picnic blanket he'd brought over his shoulders—it was quite a change from the toasty April weather in California. His backpack was heavy on his shoulders on the trek up to the house; he'd rushed straight from class to the zeta with a buttload of books and stuff for the picnic.

"Dick?" he called again as the grandfather clock slid away to reveal the Wayne's sitting room. Silent.

The silence didn't surprise Wally; Wayne Manor, practically designed for privacy, was usually muted. But the silence sat heavier today. It made it difficult to breathe; made his chest run cold.

Dick's parents had died today, eight years ago.

Wally sighed and discreetly ditched his overloaded bag with the red Stanford "S" on it behind a bookcase. It dropped to the floor, a trail of Silly String pouring off one of the straps. Wally groaned and pulled the sticky practical joke off his bag. His TA had sprayed the class in OChem today because it was April Fool's.

It was April Fool's, and Dick's parents had died eight years ago today.

Wally brushed off a wave of nausea.

He'd cut his evening class to be here; he'd cut his afternoon class to be here. He'd have cut his entire day if Dick wasn't going to be in school until three anyway—and so he'd slipped into the Zeta beam at 1:30pm Palo Alto time and stepped three hours into the future—three extra hours Dick has already lived through today—to hang out, like he had every year since he was fourteen. He shifted the weight of a pack of Artizone's Peach Teas and the same warm wooly red plaid picnic blanket they sprawled on top of every April Fool's afternoon by Pine Lake reservoir and under if they made it up to Gotham U's observatory.

"Dick?"

The thick rug muffled the sound of his shoes as Wally padded toward the kitchen. A soft yellow light spilled from the round window in the restaurant style door, and finally he could hear soft murmurings and clinking of dishes and smell—damn is that strawberry pie?

Wally swung the silver door into the kitchen with an irrepressible grin to find Alfred standing over a tray of strawberry tarts, and Dick in an apron rolling out some pie dough, with admittedly the cutest damn blot of flour on his cheek. Wally would never have noticed a year ago, but now …

Tim emerged from the giant walk-in refrigerator to Wally's left, carrying a basket of strawberries and a stick of butter.

Oh, hey, Tim was new. Wally should have expected it.

But otherwise? Same as always.

"Hey guys." Wally grinned and set down the tea and blanket and wandered over to his boyfriend and pecked him on the cheek. He didn't ask how it was going.

"Missed ya," he murmured.

Dick turned toward Wally, a light look of surprise dusting his features: he didn't know why he hadn't expected Wally this year—

"You have classes later."

—or Wally did, but his best friend was right on time, and Dick did his best to smile at the kiss, because Wally actually enjoyed college, so while ditching a class or two wasn't such a big deal for most people, it was a pretty big gesture for him.

It wasn't that hard to stretch his lips the same way he always did—muscle memory—but he could feel the dullness in his eyes, and wow Batman would be disappointed in his acting skills.

"We have a lot more this year," he told Wally, moving to grab the empty Tupperware stacked next to the sink. "Timmy's observation skills really helped out. He picked all the best ones."

Also, three people = more strawberries than Dick really knew what to do with.

"You should take some of these home with you." Tim's eyebrow shot up as Dick nonchalantly started packing baked goods into the plastic boxes. "What? They're delicious. Tell your mom that Alfred made too much for a bake sale or something. She'll be fine with it. Your cook won't have to make dessert for a week. I bet she'd like that."

The Drakes knew that Tim spent most of his time with them now anyway. Richard had been charming enough to override Janet's dislike of Brucie, and Jack was always looking to make new connections, especially if they were the richest people in Gotham. If having his son around made Richard happy, then maybe Bruce Wayne would be more inclined to look towards the Drakes for longer than five minutes at a gala, and WayneTech would consider working with Drake Industries.

So far, it was working, though that was more Bruce trying to ensure that Tim's parents continued to let him come over as often as he was needed, even though they rarely noticed when Tim wasn't around.

Sometimes, Dick hated Tim's parents. Their son wasn't a tool for them to use. They weren't supposed to be so distracted that it was easy for Tim to steal away every night to become Robin.

Then again, they were alive.

Dick reached around to undo his apron, laying it neatly on the counter.

What would his dad have looked like in an apron? Did he wear an apron? He must have, at least sometimes, right? His mom had definitely owned one. Dick remembered that his dad used to cook, but he couldn't remember how he looked in an apron.

Peach tea. Wally had bought him peach tea.

The other day he'd forgotten why peach tea was important. What his father's favorite fruit had been.

Dick was forgetting his dad faster than his mom. At least Mary Grayson's features were reflected in Dick's pert little nose and his oversized eyes. He didn't look very much like his father, though. John got hazier and hazier every passing year.

The one picture Dick had of his parents, they were wearing their performance costumes.

Did his dad ever wear jeans? What did his mom wear around the house, underneath the hand-embroidered apron Dick remembered so well?

Wally glanced subtly over to Alfred, who gave a slight nod and bittersweet smile that told him their usual picnic of light sandwiches and all the desserts that he could fit into their picnic backpack was packed and ready to go,and Wally nodded back gratefully. The backpack wasn't all that big: it only fit two servings instead of the usual three or so, but Wally wouldn't go hungry. Dick rarely ate anything, and Wally took care of the rest.

Thanks to Tim, that would be a little more than usual.

It wasn't until the tupperware clicked shut that Robin realized that he'd lost track of what he was doing. While he was packing the tarts into his one box, Alfred and Tim had packed up the other boxes, and Tim had shut the one he was holding for him and waved goodbye as he stepped out the door from the kitchen to the back patio on his way home.

When Wally turned back from his goodbyes, Dick was still holding one of the teas, seemingly still lost in thought. It was always hard to see Dick like this, his usually bright eyes looking dim. Wally couldn't tell if it was the light or what, but the blue looked almost gray today.

Dick snapped out of it, though: "We heading out?"

"Yeah, dude, let's go," Wally said, trying to keep his tone light. Dick also had a little flour just to the left of his lips, and Wally stopped himself halfway to kissing it away. The hand that had automatically reached around Dick's back to draw him close awkwardly redirected to wipe it away with his thumb, and, a little blush spreading across his cheeks, Wally glanced covertly at Alfred to see if he'd been spotted. Of course he had, but Alfred pretended he hadn't noticed Wally's near PDA.

Dick blinked as Wally pulled away, making a face as a thumb pulled across his mouth. One day, he'd be able to bake without getting the ingredients on him.

It wasn't the first time that Wally had stayed with Dick throughout this day, not by a long shot, but it was the first time he'd done it as Dick's boyfriend, and he wasn't totally confident where the line lay in terms of how much affection Dick wanted in general … much less in front of Alfred.

"Ahem," Wally cleared his throat and now his hand was behind his neck, rubbing it sheepishly as he jogged over to the table with the backpack. The tea slipped in neatly at the bottom, and he wrapped the picnic blanket in some loose straps and hefted it onto his back. There was a lot more this year than he could carry gracefully, but he scooped up the rest of what he could and, turning to his favorite brunette, he offered him his free hand and a grin.

"That is, uhm, I'm totally ready if you are."

Rolling his eyes, Robin reached for the tupperware in Wally's arm instead of his hand.

"Alfred, we can put these in another bag, right?"

The butler was already waiting with one. Dick managed to not give Wally a flat Alfred-Look as he carefully stacked the boxes on top of each other inside the polythene bags and picked it up.

Wally pulled a face as Dick and Alfred fixed his packing job, internally rolling his eyes because it was no big deal if he—

Then Dick laced his fingers with Wally's, deliberate and slow, leaning close to offer him a brief, close-mouthed kiss.

"Let's go, Kid Idiot."

A blush crawled up over Wally's ears, and he gave a sideways glance without breaking contact at Alfred, who was politely looking away. It was a little embarrassing, but he couldn't totally suppress the thrill it gave him that Dick did this in front of family.

Robin wouldn't feel that odd sort of pride that came from flaunting his relationship in front of his family until he got to show off to Bruce (he always said that he didn't care what Dick did with his private life even though Dick had known better from the way Bruce's mouth tightened every time he had a girlfriend over), but the embarrassment did heat his cheeks because Alfred was still like—

Well. Sometimes it was grandfather and sometimes it was father, but either way it was Alfred and Dick… liked telling him that he was in love. If not with words, at least through little things that couldn't hurt.

He wanted to show one of the most important people in his life that he was happy.

"So… you know about Wally. My best friend. Of course you do, he's pretty much all I talk about."

Dick smiled to himself, silently running through the speech. One he didn't need to give Alfred because he'd known the first day he'd kissed Wally, and didn't need to practice for Bruce because Batman wouldn't need to hear anything from Robin save a confirmation.

"We're sort of together now. As in, together-together. I mean. Dammit. Wait no forget that I cursed I don't have money for the swear-jar right now. He's my boyfriend, okay?"

…Wow. This was awkward even in his head.

"I made the first move. And… he feels the same way, so. Yeah."

Hmm. Would there be arguments?

"I'm not experimenting! No, he's not a rebound from Babs. He's my best friend. He knows when to make me laugh and he knows when I just need to blow off steam and he knows when to hold me. He makes me happy. I want to make him as happy as he makes me, for the rest of my life, and I love him."

Was that too much? It sounded heartfelt enough. At least when he was thinking it. Maybe an additional…

"He loves me too."

What would come after that, though? Well, Dick didn't have anyone to say this to anyway, so whatever he wanted, probably. But he wanted so many things.

He'd like his father to clap him on the back and laugh at him and his mother to envelop him in her arms and congratulate him but.

But that was just how he imagined parents were supposed to act when their son fell in love. It was an idea based off books and TV shows, and Dick didn't know because he didn't have parents, not anymore.

Bruce didn't want to be his father, no matter how many times he called him 'dad' in his head. Robin had stopped seeing him as one as well, long ago, and now it was just Dick clinging to the possibility of a normal family where fathers weren't more like brothers, and grandparents actually sat at the table with you even when it wasn't a special day and they weren't being forced to.

Maybe his parents wouldn't like the idea of him dating another guy. It hurt to think of, when he'd spent years and years building them up to something almost perfect (though not quite; he still had faint memories of his dad waking him up with loud snores and his mom snorting with laughter), but Dick couldn't recall any gay couples in the circus. Yes, the circus was more accepting of differences, but they were traditional too, and…

Robin frowned.

And maybe he couldn't remember because he'd forgotten; not because they didn't exist.

Tim's eidetic memory allowed him to remember everything he'd ever seen.

It wasn't fair that Dick needed it more, yet he couldn't have it.

Before they were halfway to the cave though, Wally was more leading Dick than walking with him; his friend was clearly lost in thought as he followed by instinct, with a grace that came from memorizing this path from every possible direction. Dick could make it to the cave with this eyes closed and his hands tied behind his back and, in fact, Batman had probably made all the Robins do just that many times over.

Wally was sure he could do it in his sleep.

Nevertheless, he urged Dick on, wondering just what the acrobat was thinking about. Normally he'd ask what was up, but today he just let Dick think - he'd share if he felt like it, and Wally would listen.

Once they reached the zeta beam, he brought Dick back from wherever he'd been with a squeeze of his hand and greeted him with a soft grin. Robin looked up to green eyes, practically luminous in the dim, fluorescent glow of the Cave, patient in a way that Wally rarely was.

I love you, Dick decided. And I wouldn't give you up even if my parents asked me to.

Disentangling their hands, he stepped forward to press a lingering kiss to Wally's lips.

Hi, his arms said as they wound around his boyfriend's neck. Thanks for showing up today, his fingers tangled into bright red hair. It really means a lot, his tongue licked into a hot mouth.

His body pressed flush against Wally's.

I missed you too.

When Dick leaned in and pressed his lips to his, Wally opened himself up, melting right back into the arms around his neck and the fingers in his hair and the rapture of feeling so close to someone in a way he'd never had before in the light of the warming up zeta beam.

And before Dick could object, Wally scooped him up princess style, stuck the boxes of dessert on his lap, and sped through away from the darkness of the cave to the sunshine of the foothills of Gotham.*

Tucking his face into the crook of Wally's neck to avoid the rushing wind, Dick felt his body automatically curl into the familiar hold despite the bubble of protest that he swallowed down. He wasn't even short anymore; why did everyone insist on carrying him like this? Seriously, Robin would totally be okay with being tossed over Wally's shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

Then again, now it was so much easier to pretend he was just breathing when he was drowning in the smell of sweat and wind and freshness—so easy to turn everything into a joke—clinging to the warmth of another body to human contact that he'd been so deprived of ever since he'd stepped into Wayne manor. Only eleven when Wally had first picked him up, but Robin had known immediately that it was inappropriate to enjoy these things as much as he did. That he couldn't ask for another person to give him all this and not expect them to want him to return the favor, one way or another.

Giving up his identity to his best friend had been more than a show of trust; Dick had just wanted to give back a little of what he took every day, each time Wally threw an arm over his shoulders or elbowed him in the gut.

He could never really explain how much it had meant to him. That just because Bruce and Alfred loved him and cared about him didn't mean that he received any contact besides when he was training or needed his wounds cleaned and dressed. Wally never gave his gestures—however big or small—a second thought, so he probably didn't even know that there was something Dick needed to repay.

Robin did, though. So one day he simply took off his mask, picked up the pieces of trust he had left and surrendered them to his best friend, and hoped it would be enough.

The five mile hike outside Gotham was really just a jog for Wally, and he took it even slower than necessary to make sure Dick could hold onto the tupperware easy - or maaaybe just to have a moment to appreciate Dick's breath and the brush of his bangs against his neck, the way his hair smelled of hipster cinnamon and honey shampoo, the way he pressed into him to avoid the wind and cold.

He skidded to a stop at the top of a small hill in the foothills outside Gotham overlooking Lake Tomahawk. They'd stumbled on this place wandering around outside Gotham three years ago today and set up an impromptu picnic underneath a gigantic old oak tree that had two wooden swings hanging from a branch. The swings flew out over the step edge of the hill into the lake … at the peak of the arc, the boys could jump and land in the water. It was fantastic.

Robin stepped away from Wally's arms with practiced ease, perfected with Superman who had offered him the same friendly touches but was always so busy. Dick didn't linger a moment too long for fear that Wally would catch his ridiculous need the way Clark had.

(Wally had eventually figured it out anyway.)

Wally had finished setting everything up before Dick could gather his bearings in a suddenly-still world, the woolly red blanket was spread over soft green spring grass in a blink, sandwiches and treats placed perhaps a little haphazardly on plates and in the tupperware across it. He was currently smiling at him like a four year-old having completed a finger painted picture, bright and innocently proud.

Dick couldn't have not smiled back if his life depended on it.

Wally knelt at one end of the blanket, grinning up at Dick as he slowed down to real time and the brunette caught up, and wow, Dick's returned grin on this particular day was one of the greatest little victories he'd had.

"Sit down?" he asked, patting the space beside him and picking up a plate with a sandwich to offer. The plate was mostly an empty gesture; Wally knew Dick wouldn't be eating much today of all days, but he wanted to at least take a stab at maintaining normalcy. You never knew.

Just another day, two dudes hanging out, eating turkey and cake and sitting on swings and relaxing across from pine covered mountains on the other side of the lake.

Stepping forward to take the plate from Wally, Dick gracefully collapsed on the blanket and tucking his legs into a simple fold. "We should come here more often," he mused.

* Wally and Dick arrived at the cave at the exact same time in the zeta beam at the beginning of Happy Harbor, even though in Failsafe everyone had to go through one at a time, so it's a little ambiguous as to whether more than one person can go through at the same time or not. (Maybe M'gann didn't know you could? Maybe Dick hacked the beam? Maybe it was because the team was going from a very public place to the cave?) Regardless, let's take HH as canon for whatever's sake.