The wall was cold against Wally’s back. Bruce, however, was warm. Too warm. And close. Bruce covered Wally’s entire body, crowding him against the wall, his arms braced against either side of Wally’s head. Wally could smell Bruce, could feel the warmth radiating off of him, could feel his breath on his face. Wally wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch Bruce. He didn’t. Instead, his hands vibrated slightly against the wall.
Wally’s gaze was locked onto Bruce’s neck, dimly illuminated by Bruce’s desk lamp — watched his Adam’s apple move as Bruce swallowed, watched as a bead of sweat rolled down the side. But Wally did not look Bruce in the eye.
Then, Bruce’s breathing changed. Bruce leaned in closer towards Wally. Wally became overwhelmed by the warmth, the closeness. The slight vibrating moved up his arms. Bruce swallowed again. Their bodies were nearly touching now.
Wally finally looked Bruce in the eye.
Bruce was looking at Wally’s mouth. Wally shivered. Then, Bruce kissed him.
Wally gasped against Bruce’s mouth. His mind short-fired. His hands stopped vibrating. He was entirely frozen in place. Bruce’s mouth worked slowly against Wally’s, his lips surprisingly soft, warm. The kiss was short — cautious. After a few seconds, Bruce pulled away.
For a long moment, they gazed at one another. Bruce’s breathing was even, Wally’s wasn’t. Wally broke their gaze and focused on Bruce’s ear, anything to avoid looking at him in the eye again. Wally’s mind raced, trying to retrace, recreate every moment, every millisecond of the past minute. His mind replayed every breath, every sound, and the feeling of Bruce’s lips moving against his. Wally vaguely wondered if Bruce could hear his heartbeat in the vast silence of the bedroom.
Wally looked back into Bruce’s eyes and decided to stop thinking.
Wally’s arms shot up from their place against the wall, his hands landing on either side of Bruce’s face, moving a bit faster than what Bruce would consider a normal human speed. Wally paused for a fraction of a second to take in every detail of Bruce’s face that he could. Wally had never before considered Bruce to be pretty, but in the dim lamp-light, "pretty" was the only word Wally could think of. Sure, in photo shoots and tabloids Bruce Wayne would best be described as "handsome" or "beautiful"— both words that are not be used to describe Batman — but here in Bruce’s bedroom, standing so close to him that Wally could count the faint wrinkles around his eyes… Bruce was pretty.
And his face was warm under Wally’s hands. Wally watched as Bruce’s expression turned softer, more unsure. Wally didn’t want to think about what that meant. He pulled Bruce’s face down towards his own and kissed him, firm and slow. Bruce kissed him back. Already, Wally could feel it rising within him. The want. The ache. Wally willed his hands not to vibrate on Bruce’s face and focused on kissing him. Bruce made a soft low sound then deepened the kiss.
They eventually separated to catch their breaths. Wally’s hands slid down to rest on Bruce’s shoulders and he let out an airy almost-laugh. Bruce joined him.
“You’re pretty,” Wally blurted out.
Bruce paused. Then he laughed harder, “I think that should be my line.”
Wally felt a blush begin to creep up and dance across his face. The sound of Bruce’s laugh was warm and unexpected, and stirred a feeling within Wally he couldn’t place. One of Bruce’s hands dropped from its position on the wall to cup the side of Wally’s face. Wally made himself focus on the feeling of Bruce’s fingers carding through his hair. Bruce wore a soft warm smile — something Wally had never seen on him before, something Wally didn’t know Bruce was capable of. Then Wally realized he had never seen Batman smile a real smile.
At that thought, Wally felt a pang of an emotion he couldn’t quite put a name to. He became hyper aware of their surroundings. Here they were, in the dead of night, making out in their pajamas like a couple of teenagers in Batman’s quarters in the middle of the Watchtower. And Batman looked almost… happy. Suddenly it all felt wrong. He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be in Batman’s room. He shouldn’t be the one Bruce smiles at like that. And he shouldn’t continue to kiss Batman as if everything was perfectly clear now. They needed to talk.
As if reading Wally’s mind and trying to push away his thoughts, Bruce cupped the back of Wally’s head and kissed him deeply.
Wally tried to ignore the ache. Wally melted into the kiss. Wally gently pushed Bruce away.
“Bruce —” Wally tried to catch his breath “— Bruce, what are we doing?”
The softness in Bruce’s face, the warmth, the smile, the laughter, all faded and were immediately replaced with carefully crafted stone. Wally almost felt relieved. This was the face, the man, that Wally knew.
“What do you mean?” asked Bruce. The voice was careful. Neutral. Batman.
Wally wasn’t sure what he wanted to ask. “I mean… what are we doing here? What is… this?”
“Do you want to stop.”
Wally didn’t know. “I don’t know.”
Bruce pulled away from him. Wally’s arms returned dumbly back to his sides.
A stray thought told Wally that he must have messed things up by talking, as per usual.
What Wally didn’t expect to hear was, “I don’t know.” Seeing Wally’s expression, Bruce continued, “I don’t know, either. I don’t know what this is.” Some of the stoniness in his face softened. “But I don’t want to stop.”
Wally’s mind began racing again. He didn’t know how to ask Bruce why or how. And he wasn’t sure if he was ready for the answers. He also didn’t know how to tell Bruce that he didn’t know if he was ready for whatever this was. As his thoughts raced round and round, Wally realized his gaze was following the movement of Bruce’s fingers. Wally watched as Bruce ran his fingers through his own hair. Batman looked nervous. Wally almost laughed.
Bruce’s next words snapped Wally out of his thoughts. “I care about you, Flash.”
What was Wally supposed to say to that?
“I— I… Me, too.”
Probably not that.
But Bruce smiled again. And the ache returned.
There are times when Wally’s conscious mind didn’t quite go at the same speed as his body did. Sometimes he’d find himself slapping peanut butter on a piece of bread before he had even realized he wanted a sandwich. This was one of those times. Wally was kissing Bruce again before he had even realized he had moved. It took a moment for Bruce to kiss back but when he did, he groaned into it. Wally shivered against Bruce. A part of Wally told him that they should talk this out more and that Bruce probably wanted to talk, too. But maybe… maybe this could be alright. Maybe they didn’t have to know exactly what this was, yet. Maybe they could stay just like this.
And, as Bruce navigated them across the room until Wally was falling backwards onto Bruce’s bed with Bruce landing heavily on top of him, Wally decided he was more than happy to stay right where he was.
Bruce had Wally pinned to the bed, fingers gripping Wally’s hair as he slid languidly against him as they kissed. Wally’s own hands roamed all up Bruce’s biceps, his shoulder blades, down his sides, then back up. Wally relished in the feeling of being trapped under the weight of Bruce, of being pushed down hard into the mattress, of not being able to move. Wally decided that yes, yes he was most definitely okay with where this was going. And Wally was struck by just how big Bruce was, his arms, his legs, everything about him. His body entirely enveloped Wally’s own. His mind ran away with thoughts of Batman holding him down, of Batman tying him up and fucking him until he cried. Wally made an embarrassing noise against Bruce’s mouth. Bruce bit Wally’s in reply.
When they finally pulled apart again to pant for breath, Bruce’s face was noticeably flushed. Wally scrambled to think of something funny to say, but Bruce rolled his hips and… oh. Oh. Bruce was big there too. Wally whimpered. Bruce’s face broke into a cocky smile that Wally should probably hit him for. He didn’t hit him. He did, however, vibrate in place beneath him. Bruce seemed to like that, his smile turning darker.
“You alright, Flash?” He asked as he rolled his hips again in that same delicious way. Wally was sure he would have hit him he wasn’t so busy moaning beneath him. Bruce rolled his hips again. And again. And Wally couldn’t stop shaking, vibrating, moaning. And Bruce kept talking to him.
“Is this enough?” Batman’s voice was close to Wally’s ear, his breath tickling the side of Wally’s neck. “Can you come from just this?” He asked as he pressed against Wally harder. And he could. Wally knew he could.
When Wally didn’t answer, the grip in Wally’s hair tightened, causing him to moan at the sharp pain.
“Come on, Wally.” He hissed.
Wally whimpered and came in his pajama pants.
As soon as he came down his high, Wally braced himself for the inevitable, “Oh… that was fast.” Which would then be followed by awkward stuttering, apologizing, and a painfully silent few minutes of changing clothes, topped off with an “Um… Bye.” He had been down this road before.
Automatically, Wally said, “Sorry.”
Bruce had rolled off of him but Wally could still feel the tingle of Bruce’s harsh grip in his hair. Bruce was now a warm weight beside him in the bed. He was still too warm. Too close. Wally couldn’t bring himself to look at him. He felt a blush creep up again as he found a particularly interesting spot on the ceiling to study, trying to keep himself from running away immediately. He continued to study the ceiling even as he felt Bruce move against him, moving closer.
Bruce’s breath was soon on his neck. Wally tried not to shiver as Bruce said, “Don’t be.”
Then, Bruce was kissing his neck. No, biting. Batman was biting his neck. The pain sent Wally’s hand flying to the back of Bruce’s head. Wally’s hand held Bruce there. Right there. He moaned around the feeling of Bruce’s teeth against his skin. Bruce supported himself on one arm as he worked on his neck. Then there was a rustling of fabric and Wally realized that Bruce must be touching himself. That thought alone threatened to make Wally lose it for a second time. Bruce worked the skin under his teeth, surely leaving a mark Wally will have to deal with in the morning. Wally could hear Bruce’s hand move quicker on himself. Bruce groaned against Wally’s neck.
Bruce’s voice was ragged now, “I — I wanted to see you — see you come. You looked so…” Bruce didn’t finish, choosing instead to kiss Wally. But it wasn’t so much a kiss as much as Bruce panting against his mouth.
“I want to see you, too.” Wally said before he realized it. Bruce grunted above him. Then, Wally couldn’t stop talking. “C’mon, Bruce. I want to see you. I bet you’ve been thinking about this all day. I bet you’ve been waiting all day to get me in your room like this, in your bed. I’m right, aren’t I?” And both Wally and Bruce shivered because they knew he was. And Wally still couldn’t stop talking. He started telling Bruce how big he was. How very big. How he wanted him to hold him down even harder next time. How he bet Bruce would make it real good for him. How Bruce would take him nice and hard like a proper gentleman. “You’d make it so I’d feel it the next day, wouldn’t you. I’ll be sitting at one of the League meetings and all I’d be able to think about is —”
Then Bruce’s face scrunched up and he made the most delicious of whines.
And Wally watched as Bruce came.
And Wally memorized every detail.
Afterwards, they took off their spent clothes in a comfortable silence. Wally didn’t stare at Bruce’s scars. Bruce didn’t comment on Wally’s freckles. But he did say to Wally, “You can stay.”
And Wally didn’t know what to say to that. He didn’t know how to say that he didn’t — couldn't — sleep. But there was something in Bruce’s face that told him that maybe… Maybe this could be alright. So Wally turned off the light and let Bruce pull him under the covers with him, let him wrap his strong arms around his body, let him breathe deeply against his neck.
And maybe he could do this, let this happen. Wally listened as Bruce’s breathing changed, and, soon, Bruce was snoring softly beside him. Wally focused on that sound and allowed his eyes to gradually fall shut.