he's there as soon as the text reading 'wanna hang out?' comes through on his phone, finding @fightwing easily as he slows to a halt before Wayne Manor's gates just as the acrobat is making his way out, quietly shutting the iron turnstiles behind him. there's a pleased smile on his face as soon as his eyes sweep up Wally's form, always assessing the other for damage or danger because he could never be too sure. it was something that usually endeared Wally to his friend, provoking a teasing little ' ready for inspection, sir. ' or a lighthearted ' i'm fine and i'm really me, mr. analytical. ' accompanied with a faint blush brightening the skin beneath his many freckles but Wally, all pursed lips and hands wrapped tightly across the chest of his billowing red and gold windbreaker ( Flash merchandise, of course ), was far too annoyed for any of that now.
‵ where to ? ʹ he questions automatically, because they nearly never stayed in Gotham when the occasion to spend time together came about. the last time Dick had found enough respite from his Bat-shaped overlord to go out, Wally had taken him to Rome where they'd walked through the city eating the best quality pizza of their lives and talking the night through about everything and anything in and around ancient structures older than the existences of just about everyone they knew before bringing him back to the grimy city in time for curfew. just one week ago, Wally would have been jumping on one foot with anxious excitement to get to do it all again, and yet, as seemed prone to happening in the young speedster's life ( in his melodramatic mind, at least ), good things never seemed to last for long. ‵ i'm surprised you didn't call your good pal Roy to hang out with you instead. ʹ
