It was just past eight and the whole city was out on the streets, dancing, drinking and partying in all the bars or pubs or going for lovely dates at high-end restaurants. Who would not be on a Friday night on their way back from work? Everyone needs the downtime after a stressful week at work. On such a busy night, there was one man on the streets who was not out to have fun. A young man, no more than twenty two years old, was not hitting up any of the bars or restaurants. He was, instead, carrying a case and rushing off somewhere. He had better things to do than spend the night getting wasted (or at least he told himself so). He had the blackest of hair, short but still with some of it falling over his forehead. He had a rather sweet disposition and came across as rather easy-going or chill as some would say. He also had fairly sharp features, for anyone looking to flirt. He seemed like the kind who would make a dedicated and sincere boyfriend.

He was, however, running quite late on that night. Any girl who was supposed to have a date with him would have been disappointed. Even with a face like his, he wouldn't get off too easy. Lucky for him though, he wasn't on his way to a date, even if he wished he was. He turned the corner in his rush and ran right into someone, sending the case in his hand flying up into the air. The next thing he knew, he was on the floor and his case landed on his head, then fell onto his lap. He groaned and flinched in pain, rubbing his head and he stood up. He could vaguely hear the girl he had run into trying to apologize to him but he brushed her off gently and continued running. A little further on that street, there was a small-scale theatre. The raven-haired male ran right into the building.

Once inside, he ran straight towards the main concert hall, which really wasn't as big as it sounded. It could seat just about five hundred people. The acoustics were quite nice, supposedly. The moment he opened the door, he was overwhelmed by a cacophony of sound. On the stage was a small orchestra trying to warm up and prepare for this three hour rehearsal. He had wanted to come in early and introduce himself to all the people in the orchestra. But as it would turn out, there weren't that many. He'd known that, there wasn't too many who would join the Central City orchestra, but he did, for the extra experience. It was, however, a lot smaller than he had expected it to be. Just a few woodwinds (2 clarinets, 1 oboe, 3 flutes), 7 brass (3 trumpets, 2 trombones, a tuba and a French Horn), 20 violins at most, 3 cellos and 2 basses. And one viola. Well, now two with the raven joining.

Can the orchestra even make a decent sound with such thin numbers? The raven man walked down to the stage, his mind full of doubts about this orchestra. He looked at the only other violist and noticed that he was sitting in the spot of the second viola, rather than the principal. The violist was a middle-aged man with curly auburn hair. He looked a lot like someone the raven knew, but he couldn't put a name to him. The man smiled at his new section member, "You must be the new guy. Would you like to be the principal violist?"

The younger male just tilted his head in confusion. Is it okay for a senior member of the orchestra to be offering me, a newbie, the role of principal violist? He sighed and held his hand out to the older male, "It's nice to meet you, my name is Richard, but you can call me Dick. Perhaps we can switch who plays principal, I would hate to take it away from a senior member."

The older man laughed and took Richard's hand, shaking it firmly, "I'm Jim, it's good to meet you too, Richard. You can take the role of principal violist. I'm sure you're a better player anyway. I only do this as a hobby, it's a miracle I even got in. You look like you're a student, so this would be better suited to you."

The raven nodded with a bit of sheepish grin. He'd never played principal before. He smiled and took a seat, "If you insist, Mr. Jim. Yes, I am a student. I'm actually studying at Gotham Academy, though my major is piano. Viola is my second instrument. I'm from Gotham though. I'm just here once a week for this orchestra now."

Jim laughed and shook his head, "That's quite remarkable. We need more people who are serious like you. Although… There aren't too many people who take up viola as their first instrument, so colour me unsurprised there, son."

Richard laughed and took out his instrument, an old but trustworthy viola, and started playing a bit, just to get it warmed up and tuned. Shortly, the conductor walked in and stood in front of the orchestra, adjusting his music stand. He was an elderly chap who looked like he could be the nicest person alive, but he could also physically rip someone apart with savage rhetoric if he so desired. He had a bit of an intimidating aura, albeit friendly. If I remember right, his name is Alfred Pennyworth, Richard thought and put his instrument on his lap. The conductor tapped his baton against the stand to get the orchestra's attention. He then pointed over to Richard, and to a girl in the trombone section.

"So, before we start, I'd like to introduce our new additions." He began, and immediately, Richard knew he'd made the right choice in joining this ensemble. British accents were always great, and they also, in most cases, were a sign of competency. At least in Richard's book. Alfred continued, pointing at the trombonist in the back, "First, we have Jesse Morgan who will be playing second trombone. Finally we'll have those parts covered."

Alfred turned to Richard and opened his mouth, but before he spoke, someone from the trumpet section did. "Oh! We have another cutie in the orchestra. Hey, Jesse, wanna go get drinks after rehearsal?" Richard rolled his eyes at the comment. It seemed to be from the principal trumpeter, a freckled red-head, who must have been just around Richard's age.

Alfred shot the male a scowl, then turned back to Richard, "Next we have Richard Grayson, who has taken over as the principal violist. He's from Gotham City."

The freckled trumpeter's voice rang again in the hall. "Hey, hey." He was looking at the entire orchestra while speaking, "Why should violists never play hide and seek?" He waited for a moment and then answered his riddle himself, "Because nobody would go look for them!" He broke into laughter, and was joined by a few other members of the orchestra.

Richard rolled his eyes and shook his head. Not only was it pathetic, that joke was an old one, too. When he thought the rehearsal was about to start, one of the last row violinists - an obnoxious looking male, turned to the trumpeter in excitement, "Oh! Oh! Give me one! Let me try!"

Richard wanted to groan in disappointment, but he held back. Was this orchestra ever going to rehearse or were they just going to make viola jokes for three hours? The freckled boy looked at the violinist and smirked, "Alright, Nygma, guess this. How do you get a dozen violists to play in tune?"

The violinist, Nygma, lit up at the riddle and thought for a few moments. Why is Alfred tolerating this?! Richard just wanted to end himself. Nygma then cackled and looked at the trumpeter, "Shoot eleven?"

The trumpeter burst out laughing and shook his head, "That's actually a pretty good answer. Maybe that should be an option. What I was actually expecting was: 'Who the hell needs a dozen violists?!'" He laughed and shook his head.

Alfred rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, "Are you quite done, West? Can we start rehearsing now?"

The trumpeter nodded and picked his instrument up, his cheeky grin never falling for a second. Richard sighed and picked up his own instrument, suppressing a chuckle. That was actually a pretty good joke. He pulled up his music and flipped to their first piece - Haydn's 104th. It was a great piece, and Richard had practised the life out of his part in the past week. So when Alfred picked up his baton and started conducting, Richard knew exactly what to do. With ease, he played his part, watching the baton for any changes, but nothing was unexpected. He just closed his eyes after a point to listen to the sound of the orchestra. It was quite impressive. For how few their numbers were, there was no thin texture. Their sound filled the entire room and it was a very full, round tone. It was truly a miracle that they could make such a sound. They sounded very much like a full-size professional orchestra.

Richard smiled and continued playing, but soon realized that there was something wrong. He instinctively opened his eyes and checked his own playing in reference to the baton, but there was no mistake there. He looked up at the conductor to see that he was glaring at the principal trumpeter. With another roll of his eyes, Richard stopped playing. That trumpeter was playing way faster than he was supposed to.

Just a measure after he had stopped playing, Alfred put his baton down and threw something (a pen cap, to be exact) at West to get him to stop playing. "Watch yourself, kid! You're speeding again! Why is it that you must do this in every single piece we work on, regardless of what it is and how many times we've done it. You never get the tempo right until the concert night when miraculously you play it right."

The trumpeter laugh and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, "Sorry, Cap'n! I just panic sometimes!"

Richard smiled and looked at the male a little bit, trying not to stare. Admittedly, the trumpeter did look rather adorable laughing like that. He shook his head, it's not that hard to count and play, smart ass!

Alfred raised an eyebrow, "Well, the next time you speed, I promise you, I'll have to demoted, Kid Flash. You just need to live up to that name, don't you?"

The trumpeter stood up with a massive pout on his face, "Hey! Drop the kid! Why can't I just be Flash?"

Alfred sighed and shook his head, "You know why, now just play seriously, Wallace."

Wallace West sat back down, still pouting, and started playing with the orchestra, and every time Richard looked at him from there on, the trumpeter just had this look of trying his best to keep himself at the same tempo as the rest of the orchestra. He was even looking at Alfred to make sure he wasn't speeding. Richard shook his head with an inward chuckle, So you can do it if you try, git.

The rehearsal actually went by quite well after that. Wallace didn't screw up, and Alfred seemed quite satisfied with his threats. At the end, Richard was packing up and putting away his instrument and music when he felt an arm on his shoulder. He yelped and moved away, only to see Wallace West looking right at him with a sheepish grin.

Richard tilted his head, picking up his case, "Can I…help you?"

Wallace nodded and smirked wider, "We're going for drinks. You should join us. Some bonding outside of this hall."

Richard raised his eyebrow. Wallace wasn't even asking him! He was ordering Richard to come along! "I'm sorry, it's eleven and I do have to catch the last bus back to Gotham City… I don't think I can come drink tonight."

Wallace pouted again, making Richard want to chuckle, "Hey come on! It's your first time in rehearsal! You should come socialize! If you don't make the last bus, you can crash at mine, I have a really comfortable couch!"

Richard sighed and shook his head, "You're not going to let me say no, are you Wallace?"

Wallace grinned and shook his head, "Absolutely not! And call me Wally, what the hell is with Wallace?"

Richard grinned and tilted his head, "Really? I thought you might prefer being called Kid Flash."

Wally rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, "Aren't you new? You're already going to pull my leg?"

Richard smiled and shrugged, "Seems fun enough, am I right?"

Wally pouted and looked at Richard's case, grinning, "What is that, a sparrow?" He asked, pointing at the sticker of a bird on Richard's case.

Richard shook his head and sighed, "It's a robin. It's cute, isn't it?"

Wally smirked and nodded, "That's it!"

Richard tilted his head, "What's what?"

Wally grinned and crossed his arms, "If you call me Kid Flash, I'm going to call you Robin!"

Richard burst out laughing and walked out of the theatre along with Wally, "I don't exactly mind that. Robin isn't too bad a name, Kid Flash."

Wally laughed and shrugged, "Well, then you're Robin for sure. Because there is no way in hell that I am calling you Richard. It sounds lame and makes me want to bang my head against something."

Richard laughed, "Well, if you get bored of Robin, you can call me Dick."

Wally nodded and walked them towards the bar, not that Richard really needed the directions. Almost the whole orchestra was going there, and it was fairly difficult to get lost from a group of more than 30 people.

Once at the bar, the group was ordering away and ready to get completely wasted. Richard just sat next to Wally, sipping his single cocktail, trying not to get overly drunk. However, that was definitely not about to happen. Wally looked at Richard and grinned, ordering them both 4 rounds of shots, each pair a different kind.

He smiled and picked up the first one from his side. Richard sighed and picked up his. Wally smiled and nudged Richard, "Hey, Robin! Don't think too much. These are on me! These are my favourite shots. After this, if you've still got it in you, we can drink your favourites."

Richard shook his head and they clanked their glasses, chugging down the shot, and then did the same for the next three. A few moments later, Richard could feel the alcohol rushing to his head. He laughed and shook his head, "You know, Wally, that actually felt really good. I'll order us two more, on me. You can try what I like."

Wally laughed and pat Richard's back, "That's the way, Robin!" Richard laughed and ordered them more rounds of shots, and they chugged those down too.

Richard laughed, feeling a little tipsy, "You know, I think we should go home before we drink any more and start making fools of ourselves."

Wally laughed and stood up from his bar stool, very drunkenly going and paying for his and Richard's drinks, all combined. Richard raised his eyebrow, "Kid Flash, you just paid for me…"

Wally laughed and shrugged, "Woops… Well, you can pay me back later. Now let's go!"

Richard sighed and shook his head. "Do you need help walking?"

Wally pouted, "Absolute nonsense! As if I, Wally West, would need help walking! I'm very strong on my feet, you know?!" He defiantly started walking towards the door, and was successful for exactly three steps until he tripped over his own foot and fell down to his face. He pouted and looked up at Richard, holding his hand out, "Some help please…"

Richard laughed and shook his head, helping Wally up and holding his hand to support him, "Well, now don't try hitting on any girls, because they're just going to think you're crazy for hitting on them while holding a guy's hand." Wally laughed and squeezed Richard's hand, getting off the ground and walking towards the door, still holding Richard's hand and managing to use that as support. Richard himself wasn't very sober, but at least he'd had six shots and one drink, rather than about twelve shots and four drinks. He just shook his head and let Wally walk him, expecting to reach his house/apartment soon enough.

After about half an hour of walking, still hand in hand, Wally turned to Richard and grinned, pointing at the low-rise apartment building next to them, "Well! Here we are! I'm on the third floor! There's four in all!"

Richard smiled and took the elevator up to the third floor, then looked at the six doors around. "Alright, you got your keys in your case? Let's get you inside and washed up, that should sober you up."

Wally nodded and pulled his keys out of the side pouch of his case, then opened the door to his apartment, albeit very clumsily, then stepped inside and kicked his shoes off. Richard followed after and locked the door behind them. He helped Wally get to the couch and sit down safely and only then let go of Wally's hand. It felt oddly disappointing to not have a hand to hold for the both of them. Richard walked to Wally's fridge and pulled out a pack of energy drinks and handed it to Wally. "I know you've had a lot to drink, but you need to drink this. It'll replenish your electrolytes and sober you up…"

Wally nodded and sipped the drink out of the straw, cringing at how full he felt. He whimpered and looked up at Richard. Yes. Whimpered. "Need ta pee…" He whined and put the energy drink down.

Richard sighed and nodded, holding his hand out to Wally. "Alright, let's get you to the bathroom."

Wally happily took Richard's hand again and squeezed it, walking towards the bathroom slowly. Once there, he let go of Richard's hand and went inside. Richard sighed, "Don't lock the door. That way I'll be able to help if you fall or anything…"

Wally nodded and walked into the bathroom. Luckily, he was fine in the bathroom, and came out a few minutes later. He giggled and looked down at Richard, holding his hand out, "Do I have to drink more of the juice, or can I go sleep?"

Richard took his hand and walked him to the bedroom by the bathroom, "You can sleep. Here, lie down, I'll help you with the blankets."

Wally nodded and lay down on the bed. Richard smiled and pulled the sheets over him, making sure he wasn't going to be cold. Wally looked at Richard and impulsively reached up, touching Richard's cheek gently. Richard laughed at the drunken action and tilted his head, leaning into the touch unintentionally, "What are you doing, Wally?"

Wally laughed and shrugged a bit, looking into Richard's blue eyes. "I dunno… Just feel like it."

Richard chuckled and shook his head, "You are wasted. Sleep, you git…"

Wally tilted his head, "I don't know. I don't feel all that drunk now…" He stroked Richard's cheek gently, then moved his hand back a bit to hold and stroke the base of the back of Richard's neck. Slowly, he leaned up, pulling himself off the bed and leaned up far enough until his face was inches from Richard's. Richard tilted his face instinctively and leaned into Wally's touch. The next thing they both knew, their lips were pressed together in a slow, deep kiss. Wally's other hand went down to wrap around Richard's waist. Richard let his body take over. He climbed onto the bed and was straddling Wally, not breaking the kiss. The kiss wasn't messy or sloppy or overly passionate. It was slow and delicate, but deep and filled with an emotion neither could put a finger on, but it wasn't something as crude as lust. It was a rather chaste kiss. When they finally pulled away to take a breath, they both just stared into each other's eyes for a good thirty seconds before realizing what had just happened. They both jerked away from the other and gasped in unison.

Richard climbed off the bed in haste and blushed, "I… I'm sorry… I don't know what came over me."

Wally shook his head and sat up, now completely sober from the shock of that, "No, no… I'm also sorry. I don't know what I was thinking…"

They both looked at each other and laughed awkwardly. Wally sighed, "Well, I guess we can write that off as a drunken experiment, and just not let it happen again?"

Richard laughed and nodded, "That's the only logical way to handle this… You get some sleep, Kid Flash. You're going to need it…"

Wally nodded and lay back down, fixing the blankets. Richard smiled and turned the lights off then walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. His hand immediately shot up to his lips and his face was beet red, and he was very very conscious of it. What had he done? And why had it felt so good?! Not even just good. It had felt…right.

He bit his lip and just lay down on the couch, pulling the throw over him and trying to fall asleep so he wouldn't have to think about it. He rolled from side to side, trying to fall asleep. Trying not to think about the fact that he had just experienced the best kiss of his life so far. It took him close to an hour but he did eventually fall asleep on Wally's couch, albeit after spending most of that hour contemplating taking a taxi home. Unfortunately, Richard's sleep was rather disturbed because of that kiss though. He kept waking up in the middle of dreams, and for good reason. He always found himself dreaming of impossible situations with Wally. And dreaming of that kiss. Which wasn't much to complain about. It had been a great kiss, and there was no reason to deny that. Except perhaps, the fact that it made him want to have another. Which of course, was the worst idea in the history of bad ideas.

And so, for the second time in that night, Richard just wanted something to end him.

It was around six in the morning, but Richard decided that he couldn't do this anymore. He had to leave, and he had to get home. He looked around and picked up a notepad and pencil from the desk in the corner of the living room. He wrote out a long note for Wally and put it on the fridge with a magnet. He then picked up his instrument case, slipped on his shoes and left the house before he had second thoughts.

And once again, over a period of twelve hours, Richard Grayson was running. This time he was running to catch a bus, for which he knew he was very early. He made it to the bus stop with twenty minutes to spare, but that was much better than staying at Wally's house and letting his mind wander. Because that is not what he needed. He was going to get home, take a long shower and then spend a few hours practising the piano. Not think about Wally for a while. One could only hope. They had exchanged numbers the previous night, so he could text Wally in case of anything. Which, of course, meant in case he left something at Wally's not in case he wanted to see Wally. That would not be wise and he couldn't stress that to himself enough. He needed to stay away for a little bit. Thankfully, he only headed to Central City once a week.

The bus ride was an hour long as usual, and soon after that, Richard was home, in his two bedroom apartment with his best friend, who had apparently brought his girlfriend over the previous night. Good thing he hadn't been at home. He sighed and walked into his room, pulling out his laptop and doing the only logical thing that any human would do in his position. Googling what it meant to want to kiss someone again.

It was past noon by the time Wally woke up in his apartment, but thankfully, he did wake up peacefully. No headache, no nausea, no jitters. He wasn't hungover thanks to that energy drink. And thanks to sobering up before falling asleep. His eyes widened at the memory of what happened the previous night. His cheeks turned beet red and he ran out of his room to see if Richard was still there. Of course he isn't. Why would he stick around this late? He sighed and walked to the fridge to get another energy drink, and he found Richard's note.

Morning Kid Flash,

Hungover? I hope you're not. You're a funny drunk, I'll give you that. And your viola jokes weren't too bad. Make yourself breakfast, Wally. I know you'll be feeling sluggish and not like you want to cook, but unless for if you eat, your body isn't going to get any better. You had way too much to drink last night. It doesn't matter how little or how much it is. Eat.

About last night. I know we said we'll pretend that it never happened, and that's fine by me. I just wanted you to know that I'm sorry about it. I don't know about you, but I'm not the kind of person who kisses somebody out of the blue like that. Maybe I was drunk too. But I also want you to know that you shouldn't blame yourself for it. We were both drunk and it just happened as a flow. Don't bother yourself with it, KF. I didn't mind it, and to be honest, it was quite enjoyable. But it's done. We can just be friends starting next Friday when I see you next.

Hey, I think I'm going to hold on to that KF stuff. It's a lot shorter and sweeter than Kid Flash. Alright, you're KF from now, Wally.

Text me if you need anything.

Robin

Wally blushed lightly and looked at a single line over and over again. It was quite enjoyable. It had been, hadn't it? He found himself thinking about all the sensations in that kiss. He bit his lip and touched his lips gently with his fingers. As his fingers ran side to side on his lips, he found himself thinking one thought over and over again. What if I did it again?

Wally then went on to make himself some toast and scrambled eggs, eating it along with a drink of orange juice. The whole while, he had to force himself not to think about Robin at all. Not to think about the kiss. And no matter how much he told that to himself, he found his mind winding up at the same moment of the previous night. How had the night started with him asking Jesse out, and then ending with him kissing Robin? Snogging, at that.

Throughout Saturday that week, both Wally and Richard thought of the same things. Thought of the same moment, same incident. And they both found themselves asking the same question. Why did it feel so good?!