This is me, cleaning out my inbox. This is you, reading a story idea I came up with and then forgot about. Strange world, isn't it?
Wally West didn't pride himself on having many friends, but despite what Artemis claimed, he did have some.
He never really blamed her skepticism, though. Even he was surprised at the few he had managed to keep through his high school career.
As a public school attendee, the whole 'hero business' screwed him over more than it helped. It gave him little more than spotty attendance and wounds that he couldn't give straight answers to. Rumors passed through hands like a poor freshman's nudes, but he wasn't pregnant and hadn't failed the weekly drug tests before, so the ones about him were forgotten.
Occasionally, someone would ask about the broken arm or the nasty black eye, but then someone would hear that the art teacher punched a kid last hour, or that some kid in somebody's Biology class was completely wasted and he would be disregarded once more.
It also didn't help that he was really bad about keeping in touch with the few friends he had. He could worry about their girlfriends possibly talking to some other guy, and he could worry about their consoles overheating mid-game, but he couldn't take his mind off of the fact that some Arkham inmate had escaped and was somewhere planning something. He could remember their birthdays, and he could remember the name of the kid they had mentioned once in passing, but he couldn't remember what Batman had said the symptoms to being affected by Scarecrow's latest gas were and the blood he had been coughing into his palm really wasn't settling any of his nerves.
Excuses aside, Wally knew he was a bad friend, but his friends didn't seem to care.
It wasn't often that the speedster had a day off from the hero business, another reason he was surprised his friends stuck around, so when he had made it to the end of the school day without an alert on the com. link, he invited his friends to hang out after school. He had been craving a day of 'normal' for a long time. His friends jumped on the idea and told him about a little diner that opened up a few miles north of Central City that was supposed to be really good. They had him at even the suggestion of food.
When the bell ring released them for the day, he caught up with them outside of their lockers, all conveniently in the same fifteen section. One had to get his little sister off the bus, so they agreed to meet up in an hour at the latest-
"Unless you decide to bail on us again," another teased Wally, never failing to bring it up.
He apologized again for it, said his goodbye with a grin, and set out with his backpack hanging lazily off a shoulder. As always, he jogged his way to the bus lot, abandoned now that the buses were lined up in front of the high and middle school, and then he took off in a blur through the city until he was nearly tripping over the place mat on his front porch. He was in-and-out, abandoning his backpack next to the door, and then he was out of the city on the way to finding the diner.
It didn't take him long to find it, especially at his speed. The real time consumer was finding some place nearby that he could duck into and come out of without anyone putting the flash of colors to his face. He found one though, and he came out of it jogging at a normal pace, already hearing his uncle chastise him for using his powers without hiding his face.
"Not like anybody knows who I am," he grumbled to himself before he remembered he was responding to a scenario in his head and really prayed that no one heard him.
While Wally was careless with his speed, he was very protective of the sheer size of his appetite. It wasn't odd for a kid his age to be an endless vacuum, but he didn't want to hold down the afternoon while he ate the entire menu. That's why he would always arrive early, if he could, to get something to eat before he ate with whoever he was going out with.
As he came into sight of the little diner, he found himself craving macaroni and cheese like nothing else. He was fantasizing of the possible arrays the diner might have, and everything he would dip into it, from chicken wings to the waffles that he really hoped they had, when he thought he recognized the kid holding the door. He could only see the side of his face, as he was talking to someone inside, but it was a tip of the tongue situation and the speedster couldn't quite help himself.
Curious, he crossed the street with a waved apology to the car that had nearly hit him because he hadn't been looking and made his way closer, trying not to be too creepy in his staring.
It didn't take long to confirm his suspicions. He almost hadn't recognized him without the sunglasses, but that was definitely Dick. His hair was slicked back for some reason, not that Wally was complaining, and he looked the happiest the redhead had ever seen him. Before Wally could completely come up with a crazy theory for his friend's happiness- he had something halfway formulated with a Bat Cow and six kinds of syrup- a kid came through the door and took Dick's hand, and Wally put two and two together.
This kid had to be about Dick's age, looking like some kind of soccer player, standing a few inches above Wally's friend. He made up what parts of the 'rich guy' package Dick lacked, dimples included, and he blushed as happily as the ebony had when their fingers interlaced. He grinned as he leaned in and said something that Wally didn't catch, and Dick wrapped his free hand around the kid's arm, leaning in with the giggle the redhead had assumed was simply trademarked for the battlefield.
Wally stood back and stared a moment longer before cocking a little grin and giving an impressed laugh, shaking his head. His best friend was in love, and had failed to mention it? Right. He was going to take the initiative himself.
He still had that little grin on as he jogged over, intercepting the couple before they could properly get to the parking lot.
"Hey, Dick," he greeted his friend, and then waved warmly at the jockier looking of the two. "What are you doing down here?"
To be honest, he wasn't sure what he had expected as a reaction. An introduction, for sure. He was starting to call this guy 'Matt' in his head, and he didn't want that sticking.
Not-Matt seemed pretty unfazed by the approach, and he waved, too. Dick, on the other hand, looked as though he had been shot- an expression that Wally had seen once before, although hindered by a domino mask and a bit of blood spatter.
"Wally," Dick got out very stiffly, and Not-Matt looked down at him in concern, squeezing his hand a little tighter.
The ebony shook the affection though, obviously very shaken in general, and set tightly narrowed eyes at his friend. He stepped away from the soccer player, as Wally deemed him, and Wally took a confused step back. He looked to Not-Matt for an explanation, but he seemed just as confused.
"A word?" Dick asked sourly, and Wally felt very left out of what was going on.
"Sure," he said.
Dick turned back to Not-Matt and gave an apologetic smile, promising that he'd only be a minute and asking the other to get the car ready. Not-Matt seemed very hesitant to do so. He took a step forward towards the redhead, but Dick stopped him with a gentle hand to his chest. It was enough to stop his steps, but he still looked to the speedster in distrust.
"If you're harassing my-," he started to warn, but Dick shook his head quickly, and nudged him in the direction of the parking lot with a desperate and quiet plea.
"I'm not-," Wally started to defend himself, but he stopped, and instead offered, "He's a friend."
Not-Matt watched them a moment longer, the distrust still there, but he gave in and made his way out to the car like Dick had asked. Once he started on his way, Dick started them on theirs by aggressively dragging Wally after him until they were behind the diner. Wally had the sense to hold his tongue on the way, but his worry built with every step. He got to his breaking point when Dick released him beside a generator of some variety, and he tried to catch the blue eyes.
"What's up?" he asked.
In one swift movement, he was.
Lifting him by nothing more than his shirt, Dick had Wally pinned to the wall, feet hovering, and choking on a surprised little cry. The redhead grabbed onto Dick's wrists to hold himself up so he wouldn't disappear down into his shirt or rip it, a concern he voiced in a tiny murmur.
"Not a word!" Dick snapped as he leaned in, and the sheer force of it made Wally realize how serious this was. "Promise me."
Wally nodded quickly, swallowing hard when he could manage it.
"I didn't plan on it," he got out quickly, clinging tighter as Dick lifted him higher.
"Promise me!"
"I promise! Jeez, Dick, I promise!" he said it again until Dick seemed to hear it. "Calm down, dude. Nobody will care that you're-"
Just as Dick had begun to lower him, he was hoisted up again, and he knocked his head on this sharp lift. He gave a tiny protesting hiss at the pain.
"That I'm what?" the ebony demanded to know.
"Dating someone," Wally finished, and the sheer honesty in his expression was enough for Dick to very nearly just drop him.
The redhead caught himself, seeing that Dick wasn't going to, and he adjusted his shirt before taking his friend's shoulder very carefully. Almost immediately, the ebony's fury melted away to remorse, and then fear. He went from looking like he could kill a man to not being able to face one.
"I'm sorry, KF," he said quietly, and Wally caught his other shoulder as he bowed his head. "Bruce would kill me if he found out... and the media..."
"That's why you're all the way out here," Wally realized, and Dick gave a sheepish nod.
He gave a sigh, heart slowly returning back to its normal pace, and he released his friend's shoulders with a final little squeeze.
"Dick, don't sweat what they think. You and... whatshisface seem happy together. Pretty cute, actually," Wally tried to assure him. "And as for Bruce, dude needs to be worrying about how easy it is to escape Arkham. If he really has a problem with you being happy, I'll give him something to really worry about."
It seemed to do its job. Dick managed a shaky smile, adjusting his own shirt, and apologized to his friend. He combed the red hair back into place and gestured for him to walk with him, and Wally decided to try talking this time so he wouldn't get slammed into a wall. He changed the topic just in case, and said his reason for coming out this way, and asked about the macaroni. Dick didn't remember seeing any on the menu, but he was sure they had some.
"If not, they'll make some. You eat enough to pay their bills for years," he joked, and Wally took victory in the little smirk returning.
Dick walked him to the car, something pretty and sporty that probably cost more than Wally's house, and Not-Matt climbed out of the driver's seat to approach them. His distrust was there, but he seemed relieved to see Dick in one piece. Not-Matt pointed at Wally, asking for an explanation, but Dick hopped up on tiptoe and kissed him. The question died off quickly.
"I'm a friend," Wally repeated himself from before, grinning at the young lovebirds, "through Bruce. He was afraid I'd out him."
Dick came down from his toes and took Not-Matt's hand, who became a Josh with a quick introduction. He and Dick went to school together apparently, and had been keeping "whatever this is" a secret for a few months now.
"Well, 'whatever this is' is pretty freaking cute," Wally told them, and he patted Josh's shoulder warmly. "You two go do whatever else you have planned. Don't let me interrupt."
They talked a while longer, and then Dick and Josh drove off. By the time Wally actually got inside the diner, his friends were on their way, so he picked them out a booth and ordered the largest bowl of macaroni they could possibly make.
-F.J. III