Dick Grayson was insufferable. He had absolutely no reason whatsoever to be enjoying this as much as he was. Which is why you were way more grumpy than you had any business being. You were simply bringing balance, you thought, when defending yourself against your own judgement.

You see, when you had started interning at Wayne enterprises, you had no idea that you would soon become a magnet to the annoying being that is Dick Grayson.

“What was annoying about him?” one may ask, and the answer was everything. He was ridiculously social and polite, his charm somehow captivated everyone into forgetting how to breathe, it was like life bent its own rules around to accommodate him. And it pissed you off. His social battery seemed to be infinite, especially around you. He never stopped talking, never stopped waltzing his way into your brain— and when you finally managed to kick him out again, it only took him a second to pop out another one of his goofy grins and pull your guard down again.

And it was this exact frustrating behavior of his that ended up getting you stuck in this mess, pretending to be his girlfriend. It happened during a Wayne Enterprises press event that was already going wrong before you even got there. A reporter had cornered Dick, asking invasive questions about his personal life and whether “Gotham’s favorite playboy’s adopted son” could ever actually settle down. The kind of question that made PR people start sweating immediately.

Someone behind the scenes decided a simple answer would not be enough. Someone else decided damage control needed to have evidence this time. And Dick, instead of deflecting like a normal person, grabbed the nearest available solution.

You.

He had pulled you into frame like it was obvious, hand settling at your waist, smile already in place before you could even process what was happening. By the time you realized he was introducing you as his girlfriend, people were already reacting like it made sense. Cameras were already flashing. The story had already started forming without your permission.

The next day you had confronted him and you could tell he was trying his hardest not to burst out laughing. He just couldn't help himself-- not when you were standing there with your hands on your hips, glasses sliding off the tip of your nose, and glaring at him so harshly one would think you were burning a hole through him with your eyes.

"What the fuck was that Grayson?" you furrowed your brows, attempting to make your glare stronger.

"What was what?"

"That-- that whole-- pretending we're together. Stop acting even dumber than you usually act. You know damn well--"

"Okay, relax. it wasn't completely my idea. One of the nice reporter ladies asked if you were my girlfriend, and a second later, I was told to pull you next to me for the greater good of Wayne Enterprises. No harm done."

You hiss at him, "very much harm done. To me. I'm not fake dating you, Grayson."

He shrugged, "Okay, we can real date then. Wanna be my girlfriend?"

Your skin turned redder than your handbag as you seethed with rage.

When you tried to correct it later, the PR team stepped in and called it “strategically beneficial consistency.” Which was corporate speak for absolutely not letting you fix it now.

So now you were stuck in it.

A fake relationship that required public appearances, coordinated smiles, and the unbearable experience of watching Dick Grayson act like being your boyfriend was the easiest thing in the world.

Which, in hindsight, you should have questioned harder.

Fake dating Dick Grayson was emotionally exhausting. Not because of the appearances, (okay-- maybe the whole public thing was also very annoying), but because he seemed to have it all under control. You on the other hand, were like a ticking time bomb; every single charming smile from Dick was a second closer to setting you off. He slipped into the role so naturally it almost felt insulting. Holding doors open for you, remembering your coffee order, resting his hand against your back whenever crowds got too tight. He did all of it with the same easy confidence he brought into every room, like pretending to date you required absolutely no effort on his part whatsoever.

You had expected the act to disappear in private. You assumed that once reporters left and charity events ended, he would go back to treating you normally. Instead, he somehow got worse.

Dick started appearing at your desk uninvited with coffee and flowers you never asked for. He leaned against the edge of your cubicle like he paid rent there, talking to you for ages while you tried very hard to ignore the fact that half the office kept staring every time he showed up. Sometimes he would casually steal things from your workspace just to watch you get annoyed enough to chase him down the hallway.

One time he took your hand during a very not public meeting and held onto it for twenty minutes straight, and when you questioned him about it later, he simply shrugged and said that it just a part of the whole "fake boyfriend thing." You didn't know if you wanted to slap him, or scream at him, or push him of a building. All three made more sense.

Another time he walked into the office kitchen, saw you standing on a chair trying to reach something on the top shelf, and instead of helping immediately, rested his arms against the counter and said, “You know, legally, as your fake boyfriend, I think I’m supposed to stop you before workplace accidents happen.”

He then proceeded to wrap his arms around your waist to steady you, but only because he didn't want you to "have a tragic fall and get brutally injured."

You nearly threw a mug at him, but then settled on a plastic cup.

The problem was that Dick never seemed bothered by you being angry at him. If anything, it only encouraged him. Every sharp comment you made earned you another grin. Every threat somehow made him look more entertained. It was infuriating.

And confusing.

Because sometimes he would look at you in a way that did not feel fake at all.

Those moments usually happened when you were not paying attention. You would look up from your laptop during meetings and catch him already staring. Or you would say something sarcastic under your breath and hear him laugh quietly to himself like he genuinely enjoyed listening to you talk.

It threw you off every single time.

You noticed it more during the smaller moments too.

Like the way he always slowed his pace slightly when you walked together, even though his natural stride was longer. Or how he somehow remembered tiny details you mentioned once and never brought up again. You had once, unknowingly complained about not liking Dr. Pepper. The next week, the vending machines had replaced all the Dr. Peppers with more Coca Cola, because "Mr. Grayson prefers Coke."

The first time you got on an elevator with Dick, you hesitated for a split second before stepping on, and SOMEHOW, that man understood that you were afraid of elevators. The next time you and a few other interns were headed down with him, he casually grabbed your arm and said he wanted to take the stairs, and couldn't leave his girlfriend behind.

It made no sense.

Nothing about Dick Grayson made sense anymore.

At first you had assumed he was just committed to the bit. Maybe he took the fake dating thing too seriously because that was the kind of person he was. Maybe he enjoyed annoying you enough that dragging the act out in private became entertaining for him. That explanation made sense. It was irritating, but it made sense.

The problem was that he stopped acting like someone who was pretending.

And those moments always caught you off guard.

One afternoon you had been sitting through a meeting so painfully boring you were halfway convinced it counted as psychological warfare. Some executive from another branch had been talking for nearly forty minutes straight without actually saying anything meaningful, and you had slowly started losing your will to live.

You must have zoned out harder than you thought because suddenly Dick’s knee bumped lightly against yours under the table.

You looked over immediately.

He didn’t say anything. Didn’t even look at you at first. He just slid a sticky note across the table with the most horrifically drawn smiley face known to mankind.

You glared at him. What were you, a pair of highschoolers?

Dick finally glanced sideways, trying and failing to hide the grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Under the smiley face, he had drawn the most hideous rat you had ever seen, next to it an even more horrific pun: "you're doing teRATfic"

You bit the inside of your cheek so hard it hurt because absolutely nobody needed to know that you almost smiled.

Especially not him. You turned back and gave him a weak glare that faltered the moment he gave you that ridiculous, goofy grin.

Then there was the incident with the rain.

Gotham weather was genuinely demonic, and you had gotten stuck outside the building during a downpour after your umbrella snapped inside out from the wind. By the time you made it back toward the entrance, your clothes were damp, your shoes were soaked through, and your mood had reached genuinely dangerous levels.

Dick had taken one look at you and burst out laughing. Not a cute laugh either. A full, head-back, absolutely disrespectful laugh.

“You look furious,” he managed between breaths.

“I am furious.”

“You’re dripping on the floor.”

“I hope the building floods and you go with it."

That only made him laugh harder.

You were already planning several creative ways to ruin his life when he suddenly stepped forward and pulled his jacket off his shoulders. Before you could even process what he was doing, he draped it over yours carefully, tugging it closed against the cold.

The motion was so easy. So natural.

His hands lingered for half a second near your collar before he stepped back again like nothing happened.

“There,” he said softly. “Less murdery.”

And the thing was, Dick did not even seem aware when he did things like that. That was the part that kept messing with your head. None of it felt calculated. None of it felt like flirting performed for attention. It was like he didn't even realize he was driving you insane.

Right now he was leaning over your desk with that same easy expression, sleeves rolled to his forearms, completely unaware that his existence was rapidly decreasing your lifespan.

You looked up from your laptop slowly, pushing your glasses back up. “Why are you standing like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you need to talk to me about something I'm not going to be happy about.”

You narrowed your eyes at him while he laughed quietly to himself. Somehow he always managed to look more entertained the angrier you got, which felt deeply unfair.

“Well,” he said after a moment, “our next appearance is kind of important.”

Your stomach dropped instantly.

“No," you groaned, "not another appearance."

“You don’t even know what I’m talking about yet.”

"Fine. Enlighten me."

“It’s a gala.”

The grin he gave you was answer enough.

You stared at him for a long moment before dropping your head against the desk with a quiet whine. From somewhere above you, you heard him laugh again, softer this time.

“C’mon,” he said. “It won’t be that bad.”

“I know. But it still means I have to be all lovey dovey with you. Again.” you fake gagged.

“This one’s important,” he continued, completely ignoring you now. “Big Wayne Foundation event. Press, investors, charity board members. Bruce is making one of his speeches.”

“Bruce makes speeches at everything." You roll your eyes.

“Yeah, but this time people are expecting us there together.”

You lifted your head just enough to glare at him. “I still don’t understand why everyone accepted this so fast. I mean seriously.”

Dick shrugged lightly. “Because I’m charming.”

Unfortunately, he said it with enough confidence that you couldn’t even argue properly.

You watched as he shifted slightly, resting one hand against your desk while looking at you with an expression that had become dangerously familiar over the last few weeks. He looked like a sick puppy.

It was genuinely exhausting, mainly because it was increasingly difficult not to succumb to his beautiful annoying face.

“So,” he continued casually, “we’re gonna have to go shopping.”

Your face fell immediately. “Absolutely not.”

“We need to get you a dress.”

“I own dresses.”

“You own two dresses.”

"It's actually three, fyi."

“Yeah, but you need something more special. You can't wear those dresses to a high class event.” he said.

“Watch me.”

“C'mon. A pretty girl like you deserves a prettier dress.”

"And an annoying guy like you deserves a slap in the face."

He chuckled lightly before giving you a knowing stare.

You hated that he was right. Mostly because he sounded so pleased about being right.

“And before you start,” he added quickly, already seeing the argument forming on your face, “I'll pay for it."

"Nope. Absolutely not. I'm paying for my dress, thank you very much."

"Well then, that settles it. You and I are going dress shopping tomorrow."

"That settles it, I'm murdering you tomorrow."

“Hey, Walls,” you called out, catching the attention of the speedster who’d been hovering around the kitchen. He stood to attention, coming towards where you’d asked for him, standing at the countertop. “Help me with the drinks?”

“Anything you want, beautiful,” he flashed you a smile, leaning heavily over you as you manoeuvred a bunch of cups into his hand, while you held two tall pitchers of ice tea. He took in your outfit, dressed in shorts and a tank top, your hair pushed away from your face to combat the heat.

You looked over your shoulder, bright smile on your face. “Coming?”

Snapping out of his daze, Wally sped up to join you, setting down the cups next to the pitchers and sliding into the seat next to you.

Before he could open his mouth, possibly shove his foot in there by letting out another flirtatious comment, you speak up.

“Hello, handsome.”

Wally blinks, once, slow. Did he hear you correctly? Was he finally out of—

“Hi there, gorgeous.”

Dick.

Of fucking course it was Dick Grayson. The boy had sidled himself next to you, leaning into your personal space, and worst of all, you’re letting him. Wally looked up, you were preening under the charming smile the raven haired boy had put on. Preening, and Dick had his chest puffed out like a fucking peacock, thanking you for taking care of the team.

“You’re so nice to me.”

Wally knew that voice, the fucking low and gravelly tone swaying any girl into one Dick Grayson’s arms. The very arms that were way too close to you while in nothing but a wifebeater, muscles fully on display. The ginger huffed.

“Of course, can’t have you fainting on me from the heat,” you patted Dick’s thigh heavily, and Wally swears if he could switch powers he’d steal Superman’s heat-vision eyes—or as Wally would prefer to put it: laser-beams-that-melt-off-hands eyes—the moment Dick placed his hand over yours.

He busied himself with pouring a glass of ice tea, all but shoving it in front of you. “Didn’t you say you were thirsty earlier, babe?”

You frowned, confused, but gratefully accepted the drink he was holding out. It was hot outside. You opened your mouth to speak and Wally was waiting for. . . something, maybe pretty boy at least if not handsome (clearly, that was reserved for Richard).

“Thanks, Walls.”

“Of course, beautiful, anytime.”

You grinned, once again turning to Dick who was telling you some story, hands waving animatedly as he stole every bit of your attention.

Walls.

Wally swore he could feel the ground swallowing him whole as you laughed loudly at the story he’d heard a million times before. Fucking Alfred and his infamous cookies that made everyone act like animals. Fuck Dick too while you’re at it, he grumbled under his breath, slumping into the couch.

.

Okay, so maybe he was overreacting.

You have always been flirty and Dick hasn’t been nothing if not a very willing recipient (and active participant) of someone beautiful hitting on him. Hell, Wally was sure Dick would flirt with anything breathing if they were actually interested. Which, looking at the Wayne heir, anyone would be. But did it have to be you?

Sighing, Wally moved through the tower in a breeze, reaching the training room in record time where you were going to spar with him, like always. “Sweetheart, sorry I’m late, was running low on fuel.”

“It’s alright, Walls,” you chuckled, wiping the chalk dust from your palms, the one that Dick used when he was doing his bendy gymnastics stuff. Since when had you decided to pick it up? Were you making a career switch to an acrobat?

“So, you er, you’re doing. . . gymnastics?”

Your lips pursed at the way his voice squeaked out at the end, confused before nodding softly. “Yeah, Dick’s been teaching me some stuff.”

Cool, just two teammates helping each other out. You were the best at hand to hand combat on the team, so maybe you just wanted to find someone new to learn something from, and apparently that someone is not Wally.

“You guys hang out now?”

“Uh, yeah? Figured I’d learn something new.” You chuckled, the two of you now circling around the mat. You crouched low, eyes locked on Wally in a smile so sinisterly cocky the speedster could feel his mind going fuzzy. God, you looked good.

Before Wally could even open his mouth, you’d pounced. The young speedster barely noticed you before zooming to the other side of the mat. You raised a brow and he smiled, sheepish, apologetic. Right, no powers.

Taking a deep breath, Wally blocked the hit you were aiming at his neck, forearm pushing you off, and then suddenly he can smell you, the scent deep and warm before he had his arm twisted behind his back.

“Stop zoning out Walls,” your voice was hot on the back of his neck. He could feel his face heating up, the red creeping around his freckled face up to the tips of his ears. You let go of him as he leaned his weight into your hold to signal for him to be let loose.

“Getting distracted—“

“—gets you killed.”

You smiled at Wally when he completed your statement. Gesturing, you took your position on the other side of the mat, Wally copying you.

This time, Wally went first. Instead of aiming high like you’d done, the speedster goes low, head tucked into his chin as he grabs you by the waist, using the momentum to swing the two of you on the ground. You let out a soft sound at the impact, but it sounded more like you were amused. When he looked up, he saw the taunting look in your eye, a lazy, smug look tugging at the corners of your mouth. Without even huffing at the effort, you pushed your hips up into his, making him lose balance as you flipped the two of you over, hands now pinning him down, arm stretched across his chest as you held him down on to the mat.

“Nice one,” you grinned, blowing your hair away from your face. You leaned in closer, chest pressed against his, and Wally could swear his heartbeat was the loudest soundtrack he could ever hear. “You almost got me there.”

“Next time,” he rasped out, puffing out a breath of air, hoping it didn’t smell of the Cheetos he’d eaten before training. The movement made the stubborn strand in front of your eyes sway. You smiled, a genuine one, and somehow his heartbeat just rang louder. “I’ll get you next time.”

“I’m counting on it.”

And then you got off of him, holding out your hand for him to stand up. Sucking in a lungful of air, Wally took it, pulled up to stand close enough where he could see every shade of colour in your eyes. They were endless pools of warmth he could fall into forever, and they were looking at him. Right at him. “Walls?”

Clearing his throat, the speedster stepped back, letting go of your hand to ruffle the hair at the top of his head. “Shall we go again?”

“You sure? You seem distracted today.”

“I’m fine, just don’t think my pre-sparring snack was the best one I’ve had.”

You laughed, the sound bright as you got back to the mat. Wally followed suit, the two of you once again circling each other. “Ready?”

You had that smile again, the low, dangerous look in your eyes, the one he saw out on the field. The one Dick held in his smile after he’d seen how it unnerved your opponents. Fucking Dick and his ability to charm everyone. Wally struck out, his body moving before he could catch up, hand coming straight for your face, and before he could even think about how foolishly impulsive the move was, he was face down on the mat, your knee pinning him down as you bent his arm back, not enough to hurt, but just enough to where he could feel a strain.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

You’d let him go, pulling him to stand at his full height as you grabbed a water bottle, tossing it to the speedster, the shocking pink a contrast against the muted green of his tank. “Yeah I’m fine. Just. . . lost in thought I guess.”

“Penny for them?” you asked, now sitting next to him on the floor. Wally shrugged, handing you the bottle when you held your hand out for it, eyes watching your mouth as it used the sucker on the bottle (where Wally had his mouth moments before), tracing down the column of your throat as you drank greedily.

“I’m good.”

“Promise?” You held out your pinky, Wally smiling as he linked his to yours, the two of you kissing each of your hands as if to seal the pact.

“Promise,” he murmured, mouth hidden by his hand, but he could see you smile behind yours as you murmured a ‘good’ against it.

You pressed your lips one last time to your linked hands for good measure, letting the speedster copy you before the two of you sat up, hands still linked in the silence of the training room, catching your breaths.

God, you had no idea what you did to him.

.

Dick caught up with you as you left the training room, having just walked out of the showers attached next to it, the one Wally had gone into not too long ago. The former Batman sidekick had a towel slung low across his waist, water not yet fully wiped off of him. He smiled as he noticed you.

“Hi, beautiful.”

You grinned, standing up from where you’d been cleaning up after the sparring session between you and Wally. “Hey there, pretty boy. Took a long time in the showers I see.”

Dick fell in step with you, walking out of the training room as you slung a wet towel across your shoulders, water bottle in hand. “Well maybe I was waiting on you.”

“Is that so?” you looked up at him, brow raised. Dick just shrugged, eyes glinting with mischief. His lips were pulled into a cocky smile, tongue peeking out to wet his lower lips.

“Yeah.”

You hummed. “Is that why you’re following me around in just a towel?”

Dick blinked, slowing to a halt outside the door of your room. You watched his skin flush a deep rouge, the heat spreading across his chest and up his cheeks. “I uh, I’ll see you later, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, alright,” you laughed, watching as he stepped back a couple steps before spinning on his feet and heading a couple steps down towards his room. His hand rubbed at the back of his neck as he reached the door, turning around once to wink at you—despite the colour in his face, before shutting the door.

“Aren’t you something,” you murmured, eyes still on the spot he left.

“Who’re you talking to, weirdo?”

You jumped, startled as you stood up straight, leaning away from the doorframe. Wally was standing next to you, now smelling fresh and clean from his shower. “Nobody. Hey, you wanna watch a movie? I’ve got the new Fast and Furious.”

Wally nodded, eyes glancing once more at the door next to yours—where Dick stayed when he was at the Titans Tower—before following you into your door, the lock clicking softly as it shut behind him.

.

Wally swore Dick was everywhere.

The stupid bird themed superhero seemed to spawn around you whenever the speedster wanted to hang out, and he was seconds away from transporting his best friend to the South Pole to live with the penguins (not you, of course, he knew you hated the cold— the ex-sidekick to Gotham’s very own Batman, however. . . ).

The beach was empty as you guys had set up a blanket on the sand, the grains warm but soothing as you dug your toes under the piles. The team had decided to have a little sunset campfire and sing-a-long at the beach, simply to celebrate the hard work of a successful week of leading double lives (in yours, Dick’s and Wally’s cases), and also for being really good at your side job of beating up bad guys.

“I’ve got the drinks,” Roy cheered, plopping down with a six pack, and some other sodas and assortments of both alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages that were sloshing around in the portable cooler in his hand. “Here.”

He tossed a chill bottle of beer he’d pulled out of it, and Wally caught it. You grinned as Roy passed one to you as well, much nicer in his handling. “Thanks, speedy.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Roy narrowed his eyes playfully at you as Wally and you laughed next to each other. You giggled, leaning into your best friend as you moved the bottle to your mouth, digging your teeth under the metallic cap, and with a slight pressure, you heard the pop and fizz of it coming off.

You looked up, catching the ginger boy watching your every move, eyes tracking your mouth as if he’d zeroed in on something that deserved his attention. You.

You licked your lips, trying to calm the sudden dryness in your throat. Wally’s eyes seemed to darken even more, the flames dancing in them tantalisingly as he copied you. You could hear your heart beating irratically.

“Sweetheart, I need your help.”

Blinking, you turned to look at Dick, mind sluggish as it tried to clear from the haze you had found yourself in. Sitting close enough to the two of you that you could feel his warmth, Dick was holding out his own bottle of beer, making you roll your eyes.

“If you wanted me to watch me use my mouth for you, you could’ve just said so,” you repeated your actions, the pop! of the metal cap opening making Dick grin as he watched you.

“But that’s exactly what I’m doing.”

Wally cleared his throat, watching the two of you lean into each other, teasing smiles and eyes burning with a sort of emotion he’d never seen in you. Were you actually falling for Dick Grayson?

“I’m thinking of starting on the s’mores,” he gestured next to you guys where Kori, Donna and Roy had set up the fire, the flames curling in reckless abandon. The three of them had settled into the sand. You smiled, squeezing his hand as you grabbed it.

“We’ll come with.”

The three of you moved towards your friends, and as you sat down next to Donna, the two of you trying to tell Kori about some new music the two of you were obsessed with currently, he wondered when did you and Dick Grayson become a ‘we’. And why was he so bothered that he wasn’t a ‘we’ to you?

.

It was official.

Dick Grayson was at the top of his hit list.

Wally swore that he could find him everywhere, even in places where he didn’t think possible: like his fucking university campus.

“And then he was telling me how Tim changed every one of Bruce’s codes to. . .”

The two of you were walking through the hallways, and ever since summer, all you’d been gabbing to him was about your new best friend Richard Grayson. The first day back to school and apparently Dick had called you in the night to talk. Yeah, right, Wally thought to himself, everyone has a conversation at 11 in the night.

He caught himself before he could roll his eyes.

“Walls?” You were snapping your fingers in front of his face. When he jolted, you frowned, curious as to what was happening. “Dude, you alright? You went AWOL on me there.”

Wally coughed, nodding. “Yeah I’m fine, long night.”

“Really? With whom?”

You sounded off, somehow not as cheery as you did just moment’s prior when you told him about how Tim had hacked into the programming in the Batcave to play a prank of the Batman. Wally tilted his head towards you as you stopped swinging your joined arms, no longer moving him around while you rambled.

What was it about Dick that had you so drawn to him?

“Nothing, just couldn’t get sleep.”

You frowned, squeezing his hand. During the academic year, Wally would end up walking around with the worst dark circles known to man, all because of his tendency to not get any sleep at night, especially since the two of you didn’t go on patrol as often during the school year. You suspected it had something to do with his powers, his inability to actually stay still and his energy that’s always contagious, always overflowing with so much life that you can’t help but be drawn towards him. But this was early, even for Wally. Usually, it’d take at least a week for him to start complaining about it, and then showing up at your window in the night.

“You want to come over tonight?” You squeezed his hand again, smiling softly in a way that had Wally’s heart thump-thump-thumping hard against his chest.

“What about Dick?”

“What about him?”

The earnest confusion in your voice made him look at you, eyes searching your face. Your brows were furrowed and lips were pursed in an adorable pout that Wally could almost dream of pressing his mouth again and devouring, but what stood out most to him was one simple thing: you weren’t thinking about Dick.

“I just— nothing,” Wally rubbed the back of his neck, lips pulling into a smile when you squeezed his hand (that was still holding yours), “what time should I be there?”

“Come over right after patrol, I’ve got your sweats washed. Couldn’t get that stain out though.”

“It’s fine.”

Wally laughed, letting you drag him around to your next class before the bell rang (he had a free period in his schedule). You hated being late.

.

By the time the two of you fell onto the floor through your open bedroom window, Wally was spent. He’d starfished across the soft carpet, still in his Kid Flash costume, and you’d fallen right on top of him with an undignified oomph!

“Move your fat ass out of the way, Walls,” you poked him in his side where you knew he was ticklish, making him jerk at the sudden movement, as you got up.

“I’m good,” his voice was once again muffled, face down in the carpet, “I’ll just stay here.”

You laughed, pulling yourself up as Wally turned over to look at your grinning face staring down at him. “Do you plan on making yourself comfortable there or shall I keep space in bed for you?”

Wally could feel his heart in his throat as he nodded towards your bed. Swallowing harshly, he cleared his throat. “I can’t pass on that beauty.”

Chuckling, you headed towards the bathroom, calling out over your shoulder as you grabbed the door handle.

“Clothes are in the drawer and mom got extra snacks if you’re hungry. Just change first!”

And then Wally heard the lock click shut, the sound of the shower running beyond the wooden door. Sighing, he stood up, gravitating towards your closet to grab some spare clothes he could change into after a shower and setting them aside, somewhat of a proud smile on his face. At least Dick didn’t have an entire section in your closet for his clothes.

By the time you’d come back from your shower, Wally had sprawled himself once again on your fuzzy carpet, now filled with half the snacks in your pantry and a couple of cookies your father had baked earlier in the night.

“Hey, brought up some cookies, your parents have gone to bed.”

You grinned, bee-lining to the nightstand where Wally had left your treasure, while the redhead moved towards the shower. “What would I do without you, Wally?”

“Be boring and lonely— ow!”

Wally glared at you, trying hardest to be mad as he rubbed the spot where you’d punched him for his comment but he could feel his mouth fighting against him at your cheeky smile. Your eyes were shining with mischief and warmth and Wally couldn’t help but mirror your grin as you fell onto your mattress. “Save one for me.”

“You already ate so many!”

You looked up at him with bright eyes, and Wally could feel his heart soaring at how open and vulnerable you seemed. You were still smiling, even as he flicked you on the forehead before moving swiftly aside to dodge your counterattack.

“Yeah well, I’m your best friend. It’s in the rules: guests get more food.”

You sat up on your elbows, eyeing the boy who had a impish look on his face. “Please you stopped being a guest since you were six.”

You rolled your eyes as Wally mocked you, finally heading into the shower while you fell back on your bed, cheeks still warm from the smile on your face. That boy had no idea what he did to you.

.

Steam curled out of the bathroom as Wally stepped out, sweatpants loose on his hips and a towel he used to dry his hair. You were on your back now, reading a book as you waited on him.

“Here, saved you the last one.”

“I knew you loved me,” he grinned, snatching it up as you rolled your eyes at him, all fond and warm. You really did love him.

Wally plopped down gracelessly onto the bed next to you, laughing when you whacked him complaining about crumbs (he’d made sure to not let a single one fall, he knew you didn’t like eating in bed) and snuggled into his side of the bed.

You propped yourself up into his eyeline, watching him drink you in like he always did, like he was clawing for air only you could offer. He only hoped it wasn’t as obvious to you. “So, what d’ya wanna do?”

Wally hummed, hand coming back up to brush against the bruise on your cheek, the one that you’d gained earlier in the night during patrol after narrowly missing a fist aimed at your face. You’d managed to grab the hand before it swung into bone, but the brass knuckles that decorated it had left a blooming red score on your cheekbone. “Does it hurt?”

“Not even a little bit,” you murmured, head nuzzling into his palm like you wanted to burrow yourself in it.

Wally could see the way your eye twitched ever so slightly at the point closest to your eye when he brushed the purpling bruise, but other than that, you were still smiling down at him with such warmth he could feel himself sinking into comfort.

You turned your head to kiss his palm once, gently lacing your fingers through his to pry it off your face as you leaned over to press your lips to his cheek, and Wally’s eyes fluttered close at the contact without hesitation.

“Go to sleep, West. You look like a troll I dragged out from under my bed.”

Wally guffawed, eyes wide open as you chortled, falling onto him upon looking at the wide eyed offence on his face, your body wrecked with unabashed laughter as you shook in his grasp. “You think you’re so hilarious, don’t you?”

You nodded against him, the humour bubbling out of you seeping into him at the points where you were connected (his hands on your back, holding you close to where you’d pressed yourself into his chest), his chest rumbling with laughter under you.

“Fine, let’s call it a night, sleeping beauty.”

The two of you tucked yourself under your covers without moving, the little night light you left on your bedside table the only sign of life in the dead of the night as sleep overcame the two of you.

.

The tower was quiet when you stepped inside. You shouldered your way through the door of your bedroom in the building, finally sliding off the wet coat and shoes that had collected the rainwater from the impromptu shower that the heavens had unleashed upon you.

“Oh hey, sweetheart.”

Before you could even catch up on the reason the voice was so familiar, you’d swung around, clipping the man behind you with your wet coat, the metal of the zipper clinking hard against his face.

“Richard Grayson, don’t you know better than to sneak up on people like that.”

You glared at the cheeky smile he sported, still standing comfortably in the middle of your room as you dragged your jacket away from his face and the matching red mark you’d left on the right side of his cheekbone, mirroring the one you had on your left.

“Great you see you too, darling.”

You rolled your eyes, shimmying out of the oversized Central City University sweatshirt, now feeling overly warm in the blooming heat of the building. Your tank top stuck to your skin from the water as you let your hair fall down your back, limp and wet, droplets tracing rivulets down your spine.

“Did you need something?”

“You wound me,” the raven haired boy grabbed his chest as if you’d physically hurt him, even stumbling back to sell his theatrical pain. You shook your head at him, rainwater clinging onto his face from the close proximity as he chuckled. “I just came to check on you cause of the rain.”

“Well, sorry to disappoint but I didn’t drown.”

“Can’t have my girl drowning on me,” he grinned, pulling you into his side to warm you up, and you gratefully leaned towards the heat of his (entirely too expensive) wool jumper, wet head of hair tucked into his chin as you placed your cold hands on the back of his neck, making him yelp. “Get away from me you heathen!”

“I thought I was your girl?” you mocked him, head tilted to one side as he kept you close enough to warm your hands against his. It was no secret you hated the cold.

“Yeah you are, sweetheart.”

“Am I interrupting?”

You jumped away from Dick as if you’d been burned, the warmth of his body turning ice rigid in your veins as Wally stood at your open door, looking in at the two of you. You cleared your throat as Dick, ever the one to be able to bring in levity in pungent silence, spoke up.

“Not at all, she’s all yours.”

And then, squeezing your hands one last time (that had gone limp in his reach the moment his best friend had walked in), Dick glanced at you one last time, impish smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he moved to leave the room, patting Wally on the back while he did.

Wally watched as you glared at the broad shoulders that disappeared from the doorframe, before taking in your appearance. You shuffled, suddenly aware of not just how unkempt your hair was, but the fact that you’d been standing in front of Dick and now Wally, in a shirt thin enough to see your bra through. If only you’d had the foresight to wear a nicer one, maybe this wouldn’t be half as awkward.

“I erm. . . I got caught in the rain,” you supplied helplessly, tugging at the end of your cotton tank top, spinning around as you went to the drawer to grab dry clothes.

“I can see that.”

Wally still sounded far away: when you glanced over your shoulder after finding a dry shirt, you found him still standing in the doorway, his stance stilted and wound tight like he couldn’t decide whether he should enter or not.

”You’ve seen me in my bra before, just get in already,” you chuckled, waving him in, only noticing him hesitate for a second before nodding, following your instructions and shutting the door behind him. “Your group project finally got situated?”

Wally had stayed back at Central City University for some project he had for his Physics 301 class while you’d left earlier, having decided on working at the Tower instead. And lucky for him, he’d managed to get all the luck with the weather because it was finally sunny outside again.

Wally cleared his throat as you pulled your shirt over your head. “So, you and Dick. . .”

“What about Dick and I?”

Pulling your head through the neck hole of a dry shirt, to find him still hovering like he didn’t know how to exist in your space, a place he’d inhabited since the two of you were five and playing in the sandbox. You frowned, watching him glance around like he’d lost the right to be in there without you asking for him first.

“. . . Is everything alright?”

”Yeah, I just. . . I’m happy for Dick and you.”

You blinked, trying to figure out what exactly was happening. Did he seriously think that Dick was the one that had you losing all sense?

”I’m just going to—“ he pointed behind him, and before you could even stop him, he’d phased through the shut door. You rushed after him, trying to find the speedster as you pulled your door open with urgency.

”Wally—“

The hallway was empty.

.

It had always felt like breathing. At least, that’s how Wally thought about it.

Since the first time you’d met, Wally had found himself in tune with you, like a wavelength honing in on a frequency that it needed in order to function. You’d been giggly and had a chip in your front tooth from where you’d hit your face on while jumping off the swing and doing a flip you’d just learned in gymnastics. You’d never even cried about it, the grin of showing off to your new friend still plastered even as the corner of your lip started bleeding and your mother came rushing towards you. You’d simply grabbed Wally’s hand and told him you’d teach him how to do it too.

That was the first time he’d met you, and since then you’d been a stronghold in his life, someone he’d come to know inside out, maybe even better than he’d known himself. You’d been the first person he’d found after getting his powers, after he found out how his uncle was The Flash, the trials that came with having powers, you’d been standing beside him, always with a snack (apples crusted with peanut butter, to make sure he was both eating healthy but also had something to satiate his sweet tooth) and a smile that disarmed every bit of distaste he felt towards himself for not being good enough. You’d been there for the first ever time he’d had his heart broken, a girl he’d seen only a few months in high school, but you’d been there to cheer him up, mend the parts that he never knew could break.

Wally had known it’d only be a matter of time before Dick and you finally got together, it’d be stupid to think otherwise, but god he didn’t realise just how much it would sting being second place to Dick.

He’d learned early on that being Wally West meant being able to learn you and love you, and he’d made his peace with it. You’d were singular in every way and it wasn’t surprising that everyone around you noticed; you tended to do that, draw people into an orbit that made them feel like they were at home, because that’s what you did to him at age five with a toothy grin. He just needed to make peace with the fact that you’d found someone else.

“What’re you doing here?”

Blinking, Wally saw Roy walk up to him, the former Green Arrow sidekick dressed up as if he had somewhere to be.

“Where’re you off to?”

“Had a date,” Roy grinned, patting Wally on the shoulder as he vaulted over the couch, settling into the one that wasn’t occupied by the speedster. “Now why are you sulking? Trouble in paradise?”

Wally’s eyes narrowed. Roy, amongst other things, was a big gossip, especially when around Donna and you, the three of you always knee deep in random news you’d heard (four if K’ori wasn’t off-world). Half of it of course came from the type of vigilantes Roy and you happened to be, but the other half was simply pure curiosity. Wally had never met a man both so brilliant and downright ready to binge an entire season’s worth of reality television.

“What paradise? There’s no paradise.”

Roy simply looked at him, a stray strand of red hair falling over his forehead from his man bun—the only person Wally had seen ever pull off that style so well—and shook his head, a low chuckle emitting from his throat. “Yeah right, I’m not blind dude.”

“I’m being serious.”

“Uh huh, and we’re all just happy go lucky adults with no issues at all,” Roy nodded, and Wally could tell that the archer was taking the piss out of him, but god he couldn’t help it. “Seriously dude, just talk to her.”

“I can’t— I can’t just talk to her!”

“Yes you can, you just open your mouth and form words.”

Wally walloped him with a pillow as Roy laughed at his red face, tossing the decorative piece right back at the speedster, who simply grabbed it and placed it down next to him with more force than required.

“I can’t, she’s going out with Dick now.”

Roy raised a brow, now settled into the couch as he folded his arms across his chest. “Huh, I didn’t see that coming.”

“Tell me about it,” Wally slumped into the cushioning, hands running over his face.

He could feel Roy’s eyes burning into the side of his skull as he stayed hidden behind his fingers, trying to press them into his skull like it would press away the way he needed you into the back of his mind, to be left untouched and forgotten as time would pass by.

“My advice is you talk to her, what’s the worst that could happen?”

And with that, Wally could hear the sound of fading footsteps as Roy headed out towards his room, once again leaving the redhead to stew in his own feelings, the night sky greeting him as he stared out the window, trying to figure out just when he’d found himself so helpless to the way he loved you.

The crickets chirped faintly in the background as the hum of the city started falling asleep.

.

Wally had begun trying to find ways to avoid you. It’d started small, with not being free during the week to study together in the Central City University library like the two of you usually did. He’d been working everyday this week on some or the other assignment, or was hanging out with friends from his classes, who you had met barely in passing to actually know, which meant that you’d spent more time with his parents than him, feeling bad about only showing up on their doorstep to ask about their son. You played poker with his father as you waited, but Wally never returned home, only zooming by you on your interconnected patrol routes. Hell, it’d gotten to the point where you’d not trained together either. No matter what, Wally never missed sparring sessions with you.

You wondered what could’ve possibly happened for him to ignore you. Hooking your penknife into the latch of his window, you jiggled it around, trying to catch the grove that would help you unlock it, and after a few moments, you heard the sound of your success, the click of the mechanic registering as you slid open the window, toppling through gracefully and face first into wooden flooring.

“What are you doing?”

You stood up, brushing yourself off as Wally leaned against the doorway of his bathroom, eyeing you down with confusion. “You were ignoring me all week.”

“So you break into my room?”

”Obviously,” you chuckled, closing the gap between you as you moved into the room. You only stopped when he spoke up again.

”Why?”

Wally looked genuinely surprised, like he hadn’t expected you to fix whatever it was that had gone so wrong that he’d decided forgetting about you was better than talking with you.

You could feel your lips tug into a frown at the idea of never having access to Wally— selfishly, you needed him around, if nothing else then as your best friend. He’d been an extension of you since you’d first met him, trying (and succeeding) at impressing him enough to become your friend in the sandbox. Even at five years old, you could tell he was important, and not because he was the first boy you’d befriended. Wally had a way of making everything around you brighter, like you’d become Midas-touched gold, forever shining as long as he looked at you. He’d brought laughter out of you when your grandfather died; when you’d started crying over Marley and Me and he’d promised he’d find a way to make the dog the two of you got together live forever; when you had first killed a man on the job (an accident, and he was the bad guy, but that didn’t mean it didn’t flash behind your eyelids for over a month) but struggled to wash off the blood until Wally held your shaking hands to do it for you. . .

“Are we okay?”

The question came out quieter than you wanted it to, like punching it out of your lungs expelled all the fear you had about it, into the open where Wally could grab onto it, grab it and do whatever he pleased with the worry you held for him, for the two of you.

Wally shrugged, hands shoved into his sweatpants. He’d moved out of the bathroom now, the door clicking shut softly behind him. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat at the impassive callousness in his voice. Your tongue felt heavy, pinned down as you called out his name. “Wally. . .”

“Baby, ’m fine, you don’t have to worry about me.”

Baby, the word sunk heady into your heart, something you’d wished to hear from him, but not like this. Wally had his arms crossed over his chest, standing next to his bed now as he watched you watch him. You cursed as you could feel your eyes shine with watery tears that were beginning to form. Why did he think you didn’t care about him? All you ever did was worry about ways Wally could live a life that he was proud of, one that he wouldn’t have to hide in the future from whoever he was around (and in the most dangerous dreams you had about it, it was you by his side).

“Why wouldn’t I worry about you?” You scoffed, biting back the tears as you stared at the redhead who was watching you intently. “Do you think I don’t care?”

“No you— you do, I know that. . . but with Dick around now, you’ll—“

“What does Dick have to do with you not talking to me?”

Wally ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the tuff of it where it connected to his neck, feet moving as he began pacing. “Doesn’t everything lately have to do with him? I’m happy for you guys, truly. But I can’t be around you, not while I. . .”

“While you, what?” You asked, watching as Wally went still, eyes bugging wide when you repeated yourself. “While you what, Wallace?”

He winced when you used his actual name, not even Walls or Wally, instead shaking his head as he pointed at his window. “You should go.”

“Not until you tell me what’s going on,” you huffed, now your arms crossed as you stared down the boy you’d loved since the beginning of high school.

Wally sucked in a sharp breath like the idea of telling you the truth caused a physical wound in him, and you desperately needed to know it was something you could fix. Because you couldn’t stand the idea of not having Wally anywhere except next to you: it’s what you’d always known, the only thing you’d been sure of since you were a little girl.

When he opened his mouth, you could feel yourself slipping into that hope that finally you’d gotten through to him. “I’m sorry. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You could feel the air expunge itself from your lungs as Wally turned to fidget with his bedding. He didn’t even look back as you whispered a goodnight Walls over his windowsill, body halfway out. Swallowing harshly, you balanced on the edge of the roof to the West house before dropping down, crouching low to the ground once you landed on the grass of their backyard.

In the quiet of the night, you walked yourself back to your apartment building (which was closer than the tower), eyes red by the time you found yourself in bed, tucked into the duvet that was still the same pastel green that you and Wally had picked together back when you were just children.

.

“Woah, you alright sweetheart?”

Dick and Donna came into your line of sight, the Wayne heir grinned good naturedly while Donna watched you curiously.

Huffing, you landed another hit on the sandbag, the chain swinging from the impact. Donna caught it as it neared her, “what’s going on?”

”Wally, he’s just. . . God, boys can be so frustrating!”

You punched the bag once again as Donna let it go, the Amazonian stepping aside right as the bag swung off the hook in the ceiling. Dick raised his hands in surrender as if he were the one in the line of fire.

“Do you want me to talk to him?”

You eyed Dick, who was still standing far enough to not get hit, and watching you with concern written into the crease of his brows and the corners of his mouth before shaking your head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, I’ll— I’ll talk to him. . . Besides, I don’t think you’ll get through him this time.”

Dick frowned, but nodded. And you understood why; Wally and Dick had been inseparable when the two of you joined the team back in the day, as children who still had hope and dreams of a world that seemed much nicer than it actually is. Wally had found a brother in Dick, and so did the former Robin, you knew that the idea of Wally not listening to Dick would hurt him, but you didn’t want whatever it was that had Wally hurting because of Dick be an issue, not until you could at least figure it out first.

Donna stepped forward, tying her hair back as she did. “Want to spar for a bit? Take your mind off of that idiot?”

“Sure,” you chuckled, shaking your head. Donna always knew how to make you feel better. If you couldn’t talk it out, you’d get out whatever it was with a fight. She’d been much the same way since she’d joined the team as well. “What would I do without you, my love?”

“Be moping,” Dick called out, now hanging off of one the beams, practicing his flips and tricks from a life he no longer had. You looked up and he was grinning from cheek to cheek. “Your emo teenage angst shit is filling this room.”

You rolled your eyes. “Dickhead.”

“That’s me,” he called, swinging his body through the maze of support beams and other bars that had been installed specifically for him.

You turned to Donna, who was grinning as well. “Well, shall we?”

“Why, of course.”

Donna crouched low, waiting on your move. You took the first step.

.

By the time you’d entered your room, it’d been past midnight. Patrol had been long, even longer when Wally wasn’t there to trade jokes with you, or attempt to guess what exactly you’d end up finding while on your rounds.

You’d barely shut your door, still in your suit as you flopped onto the bed when you could feel the familiar hum of frequency outside your door before a loud knock echoed against it.

“Get inside, Wally.”

“Can you. . . Can you open the door?”

Sighing, you dragged yourself up, pulling open the door to see Wally, still in his yellow and red costume, goggles tucked into his hair and freckles on display as the face piece to his suit was pushed back. The boy shuffled on his feet, as if surprised to see you standing in front of him. “Hi.”

“Can you not phase through shit anymore?” You asked, opening the door wider as he stepped in at your gesture for him to do so, stopping just beyond the threshold. You shut the door softly behind him.

“I’m sorry.”

And without meaning to, laughter spilled out of you, the sound more hollow and mean than Wally had ever heard out of you. “You’re sorry? That’s new. I thought you were too busy ignoring me.”

You strode towards your closet, wanting to change out of the suit that stuck to your skin, the suffocating feeling of having Wally so close to you after two weeks of him trying to erase himself from your life practically felt like you’d lose air the longer you were constricted in it. Wally grabbed your hand before you could move far away.

“I mean it, I was being a dick about well. . . Dick,” he winced, brows scrunching even further when you didn’t laugh even the slightest at the unintentional joke, something you always did. Sucking in a harsh breath, he carried on, “if you’re happy with him, I’ll make my peace with it. I just want my best friend back.”

“If I’m happy with whom, Walls?”

You looked genuinely confused, as if Wally hadn’t been there to see Dick and you fall for each other these past few months.

“Dick.”

“What?”

And to Wally’s surprise, you were laughing. You were bent over the waist, nearly falling into him at the image he’d given you. “What’s so funny?”

“Dick and I— there’s nothing. . . Oh my god, did you think I was going out with Dick?”

You had tears coming out of your eyes as you looked at him, as if the idea of anybody wanting to be with Dick Grayson was absurd. He knew the two of you were perfect together, and would look the part too in Gotham’s socialite papers and photographs.

“Please, Dick has his eye set on a redhead at all times,” you chuckled, wiping at the corner of your eyes, “he’s more likely to go for you.”

And at Wally’s shock, at his mouth that fell open, unable to find words, you’d found yourself laughing again. “Wait, so you and Dick aren’t—“

“We never were,” you shook your head, head tilting as if you’d found something out. Your eyes were swimming with curiosity, a sort of finality he’d only seen in you when you’d cracked a particularly difficult case. He’d seen it when you’d found the answer that had stumped you during your criminology courses, when you’d found out whatever Wally had hidden from you (like the surprise parties he tried throwing for your birthday, only for you to find him out five times in a row before he gave up). But now, they looked ever more sure, and Wally hoped he hadn’t been found out.

You took a step forward, now facing him as you closed the distance. “Hey, Walls?”

Wally hummed, eyes darting all over your face, close enough that he could see every shade and hue in your eyes, the way your mouth was pulled into a smile, something sly but that also said you wanted to know something, as your eyes fixed on his mouth.

“What up?”

“Don’t panic.”

“I— what? What do you mean—“

You’d grabbed him by the collar, lips slotting against his that were still sealed shut. The surprise of the impact had him opening his eyes, before reality caught up to him. You were kissing him. You were kissing him. Before he could fully return the fervour, you’d pulled back.

“That’s why.”

Wally was staring at you, eyes wide. “You kissed me.”

”I did,” you grinned, closing the gap to the point where Wally could feel your body pressed up against his, and instinct dictated that he steady you, his hands falling on your waist. “Now are you just going to stand there and gawk, or will you kiss me again?”

When Wally made no move to respond, still glued to the fact that you’d kissed him and it wasn’t a dream, you made to move out of his embrace. “Maybe I should go ask Dick if he wants to— mmph!”

”Shut up,” Wally murmured, pressing his lips to yours again, hands moving to circle around you as he pulled you closer to him, but he was grinning now. You couldn’t help mirror it as you pulled him closer to you, tugging on his hair as you did.

Wally let out a low sound, shuffling back as you hit the edge of your desk, his palms flash against your hips as he set you on top of it. The fireproof material of Wally’s suit bunching in your hands as you dragged him closer, his hands steadying you, still kissing you as if he couldn’t stop. He moved away when you hooked one leg to pull him closer.

”Wait— hold on, what does this mean?”

You blinked, the sluggish euphoria that had filled your veins, sparking a fire in your system slowed into a small flame as you finally realised what he was saying. You looked up into deep greens as they studied you, trying to figure you out, the way they always did.

”I don’t want to do this if it’s just something casual, I don’t— I can’t do that, not with you.”

You loosened your grip on his collar, smoothening it as you tried to figure out how to put it in a way that made him understand just how selfishly you needed him. “That’s the last thing I want with you.”

”Good, because I want this,” he was drawing circles into your waist, still close like he couldn’t bear to be any further from you, eyes scanning every inch of your face. “I want you, all of you.”

You smiled, heart thump-thump-thumping so wild you were sure he could feel it with how close the two of you were. “You have me.”

And Wally’s smile was blinding, the flame in your veins burning brighter just at the way he was looking at you.

“Yeah?” he asked, voice soft and wrecked with emotion.

”Yeah.”

Wally’s mouth slotted against yours against, messy and teeth clashing with how brightly he was smiling, tongue licking at your bottom lip as you dragged him into you, letting him take and take and take everything he wanted. His hands slid into your hair as he tilted your head back, lips moving across every inch of skin he could access, your legs hooking around his hips to sit flush with yours.

”I can’t wait to tell Dick you thought that I was in love with him when you’re here.”

Wally groaned against your pulse point, the spot behind your ear, the sound low and gravelly that had your eyes fluttering shut as you fought to keep your teasing for longer. He pulled away, just enough to speak.

”You won’t let me live that down, will you?”

”I can be convinced,” you teased, breath hitching as he already started tracing a path across your skin again, willing you to forget his stupidity, hands already latching onto the zipper in the front of your tactical suit. “Fuck, baby. . .”

”Say that again,” he hummed, mouthing at your collarbone and you had no choice but to acquiesce his demand.

”Wally, babe, don’t—fuck, don’t stop,” you whimpered as his hips pressed hard into yours again, the pressure only causing the fire curling low in your belly to burn harder as you met his actions and desire.

“God, you have no idea what you do to me, darlin’.”

The low drawl had you pulling him up, his eyes not only having a slither of green as they gazed up at you in hunger.

“I have an idea,” you mumbled, dragging him into you again, his body following yours with no resistance.