Disclaimer: I don't own Young Justice.

Chapter 1: Kinda Like Photosynethesis.

Things change.

And when things change, no one seems to understand that just because you're Flash, the Flash, a Flash, Flash-hybrid, you don't have a hard time coming to terms with things. Wally knows well, with the tight squeeze in his heart, how fast things can change. As a Flash you're supposed to have all the time in the world. People think that you move fast, but what they don't know is that the world just moves slow. So when things change, they're slow changes.

Wally doesn't expect things to stay the same.

If things stayed the same, then he would still be living with his parents. If they were the same, Iris West wouldn't have legally adopted him when he was fourteen. He would still be that dorky kid who idolized the Flash.

But things did change. Bad things; good things. He's nineteen and in college now. At first he'd always thought about going off to the Police Academy; about being a forensic scientist just like his uncle. In…honor of his uncle. But he doesn't, because he's not his uncle.

He'd taken the uniform off when he was seventeen. The familiar shocking yellow, the warmth of a blooming red. He was a bud, Aunt Iris used to say. A bud that would bloom beautifully into the most extravagant flower in the world, and some day that was all the world would see: a stunning Wally West who's become a man. He knows about photosynthesis. About how flowers change with the seasons; of their cell walls and when the sun hits them, they look beautiful.

And things have to change in order for flowers to bloom.

But Dick—there are so many things about Dick that Wally doesn't want Dick to change. The way his eyes glisten brightly when the sunlight hits them. The way his skin is creamy, milky, and how his thin lips brighten the world. He likes how when Dick looks at him, his heart feels like it'll vibrate right through his chest. He likes that when Dick smiles, it carries on the urge for Wally to smile. He likes that when Dick laughs, Wally feels he can close his eyes and reach Neverland, where happiness never ends and where they can totally kick Hook's ass and get Tinkerbelle to make them fly.

He likes that when Dick looks at him, he still feels human. Dick can make him feel like a little kid and forget his responsibilities.

Dick is immortal to Wally and he believes Dick is the best thing that's ever happened to him. But Dick's leaving.

"Why?" he asks. Sometimes he forgets that Dick isn't that little eleven-year-old kid anymore; the one that took him to the Batcave. The very first person that Robin's ever taken to the Batcave. Dick is seventeen, and has gotten accepted to Stanford, Princeton, and Harvard. Wally goes to a university in Kansas and rides on his scholarships. It's that short age gap that feels like a Marianas trench because Wally's in college. He clings onto Dick because he fears he may fall if he doesn't.

Dick is unpacking boxes in his penthouse. Even if Wally worked overtime at his job back in Keystone he'd still only be able to afford a one-studio. Roy complains about his a lot. Dick doesn't look at him. "Why, what?"

"You left the team," Wally says softly. He's got an exam in about twenty minutes he hasn't studied for and doesn't care. Dick has always been more important. Will always.

It's not the right thing to say, and it's those mild differences Wally's noticing again. Dick pauses, hand in a stiff position as he pulls out old photo albums to stuff under his new bed, and doesn't turn to him. Wally wishes he could see blue eyes. "So did you."

He had no choice. And it's different. "I wasn't the leader."

"It was never the same without you." Dick smiles ruefully and for some reason—not some reason, that reason-it makes Wally's heart flutter. Dick turns around, leans against his new mattress and crosses his arms.

"I couldn't stay."

"You went with him."

"The JLA needed a speedster. I'm—I'm it." Wally doesn't like how he, a nineteen-year-old college student, is getting nervous in front of a high school twerp. But that isn't it because Dick knows him better than anyone. He knows how to hit a sore spot; how to scrape against Wally's heart so gruesomely that it bleeds tears. "Bruce was—"

It's like a dance that he doesn't know he was in, because Dick's stature suddenly tightens. He's taller now. Only two inches shorter than Wally himself, but there's coolness that glazes in Dick's blue eyes. It's been swelling—blooming since Day One like a field of lilacs. Batman's name should feel funny on his tongue, but it doesn't. It should burn because Dick and he had another one of their fights, but it doesn't. It's as familiar as referring to Dick, and Wally promises he'll never tell his best friend his tendencies: the way Dick's chest juts out just like Bruce's, or the fact they both prefer unsweetened tea over a Zesti.

Dick snorts, and Wally can't help with the forensic science background that interprets that snort: you're weak. Dick thinks there's a hidden message; from those two years ago, and in the present Wally still isn't sure if there wasn't. That he can deny it. Bruce and Dick have spent so much time together; developing so many similarities that Dick's psyche edges into sickening paranoia—something Bruce could never isolate himself from. Because in an essence, that is Batman, and Dick isn't Batman. Doesn't want to be.

"You're the leader," Wally says again, voice choking.

"Things change," Dick says back. His voice is no longer that whiny nerd voice; the one that'd recite math formulas and computer coding like it was no big deal. It's still the voice of a teenager, yet is so close to breaking the barrier into adulthood.

Wally doesn't want them to.

"Conner. Kon. He's got a name now. Going through high school, just like me." Dick picks up something at the bottom of the box, and it's funny because it's Robin, Bear Wonder. Wally had given it to him as a joke three years ago. "Megan is honing her skills, Kaldur's stationed in Atlantis, you. You're up in space all the time."

"But Robin's still Robin," Wally says, and there's a strain in his throat. It hurts; watching that little, happy-go-lucky kid turn into the tight and alluring man in front of him. To see him change. Because Wally doesn't know him anymore.

Not when Dick's hand squeezes Bear Wonder so tightly that one of the ugly eyes fall out. "Dick Grayson isn't Robin anymore."

"What are you going to do?" Wally asks, and he tries to keep his voice calm. He wants to punch Dick in the face; tell Dick to stay the same, otherwise…otherwise Wally won't be able to stay sane. "You grew up as a superhero."

It's that smile again, when Dick smiles. Rueful and bitter and lacking the laugh Dick had shed two years ago when Uncle Barry died and Wally became the Flash. "I'll put the pixie boots down for good. Find a new identity. Form a new team."

He's trippy, Wally wants to say. "Everything you've known has been—"

"With Batman." Dick's smile is missing lilacs. It's intimidating, sexy and…hot. "I'll form a team; where we have our own rules. Won't operate under the league." Won't be with me, Wally doesn't say. "A team with outsiders, where we work by our methods."

"But—" Wally doesn't know what to say. What Uncle Barry would do in this situation, or what he should do in this situation. Compared to Dick's bold declaration getting into the League as the Flash suddenly sounds like Wally's had someone hold his hands for years.

"We're different now, Wally." Dick doesn't miss a beat. "I'm different."

And Wally doesn't like it. Not one bit. He stands up and wants to say something. To capture Dick with a heartwrenching kiss and hold him tightly, like if he doesn't then Dick will disappear from the face of the planet.

But Dick is thinking about himself. He's thinking about his future, and the way Wally is under that blue-eyed gaze he senses part of a leer. A silent message that screams in Wally's face and locks his heart up all over again.

Wally's not in any of these plans and he suspected he wouldn't be; just didn't think it'd hurt so much.

"I've got a test in ten minutes," Wally says. He doesn't look Dick in the eye before leaving out the front door. He doesn't say goodbye. Neither does Dick.

Wally runs back to Keystone City with a foul taste in his mouth.

-x-

Wally's not surprised if he makes a 'C' on the test. He wasn't focused when he was taking it and spent half the previous night taking down the Rogues and Gorilla Grodd. The other half was when Dick called him in the middle of the night, obviously after having blown off steam, and spent an hour ranting to Wally about what Bruce had done that time. It's easy, really, to say that he could pin the blame on his best friend, but between Watchtower and Titans Tower, he sees both sides.

Young Justice is over. Has been, since Artemis Crock's death. She's remembered as a hero, and it's hard to mention her name in passing without the inexplicable emotion that causes Wally's entire stomach to collapse into a black hole.

Between Bruce and Dick Wally sees both sides and always wishes Uncle Barry was still around so he wasn't at crossroads. As the Flash—the very third Flash, Wally sees the way Batman's lips curl into a snarl and his struggle to understand Dick. He sees Bruce trying to shove that last nugget of information into Dick's mind because he knows Dick is ready, but misinterprets Dick's independent actions as rashness in his judgment. Dick thinks he knows everything now; that he's now had nearly ten years of training and that he doesn't need someone to coddle him. He misinterprets Bruce's attempts to understand him as means of control, and, well, wants to leave the nest.

Bruce has the league.

When Dick needs a shoulder to cry on, Wally is there in a flash. Nowadays Dick has gotten better at brooding and sulking rather than lashing out and cussing in forty different languages pirates would be jealous of. Dick is smart, trained, and can handle himself.

And Wally doesn't care. If Dick suddenly lost his leg, Wally would drop college in a heartbeat and donate all two of his just so Boy Wonder could walk.

It's not a secret in the superhero community about his feelings. There may be forty-billion misinterpretations, where people depict Dick and his 'bromance' as an actual romance, or depict the romance as a bromance. Wally never runs away. But secretly, if he could run away from Dick—run away from these feelings, then Wally would do it in an instant. His feelings for Dick are as much a curse as they are a blessing and to find someone who can snip the false-red strings that attach him to Dick; to lift the strain and weakness on Wally's own heart, he would love them.

But he can't. No one can measure up to Dick. No one.

After Artemis's death the team had broken up. Kid Flash became a hero no more because Wally desperately wanted to get into a good college, Superboy was exploring life as Conner, Miss M trained more than ever, and Kaldur went back to Atlantis. When Robin proposed the Teen Titans, the team had been back together—though hesitantly. Roy was still gone. Few people stayed; along with some new others. Beast Boy was a new one, and he'd heard of Raven. Megan came back and Conner came back. Kaldur sent a replacement.

Wally had been in his first month of college when sixteen-year-old Robin assaulted him in September.

That September, Kid Flash ran his heart out, chest fluttering and ears tingling each time Robin barked an order.

The following October, Kid Flash was but a myth; like an urban legend. But there was a new Flash now. Wally wasn't Uncle Barry, but for a solid year he'd worked to catch up to the hero he thought he'd never be. Dick helped him every step of the way after Barry died.

And in sickening defeat, Wally knew Dick saved him from falling into unhealthy depression. Saved his life.

No strings attached.

Dick's hardened from his years in Gotham. He's tough from working alongside Batman, and holds his title as leader dearly to the Titans.

Wally wishes they could take a step back four years; when Dick was still that scrawny kid who could jump across buildings, Superboy had his picture in the dictionary right next to the phrase, 'socially awkward,' Megan was his world, Artemis was his nemesis, and Kaldur was like one of his brothers. Roy was his other brother. Someone Wally told everything to.

So he decides after his crap-exam to go visit Roy. Except…maybe stop for diapers first.

Roy isn't as active as he used to be when it comes to being Red Arrow. When Uncle Hal—no, just Hal-extended an invitation to finally join the league on his own worth, Roy had already created his own image. His own methods, and just like Dick now, Roy is an outsider to the Justice League.

His twenty-second birthday is coming up, and Wally thinks it might be a good idea to buy Roy a new bow. His only problem being he doesn't know what the hell kind of wood Roy prefers. Roy may be obsessed with adrenaline, but Wally's sure with his Navajo heritage, Roy wants something…sacred, almost.

It's easier to shop for Roy than it is Dick.

For one thing, Roy appreciates the small things in life and, while unintentional, Dick tends to have an expensive taste. Wally once saved up all his allowance to buy a new wrench set for Dick to work on his R-Cycle, but by the time Dick's birthday rolled around, he learned Dick used tools specially chosen by Batman. Tools made out of metal Wally would spend four lifetimes to raise money for and even then he'd be able to afford maybe half a pound.

Dick isn't awfully materialistic, and certain years Wally buys him mock-gifts like Robin, Bear Wonder. He's gotten over that stage now—seventeen, for crying out loud. They used to take pictures or have pictures taken together. People thought they went together like macaroni and cheese.

They stopped taking pictures together after the Incident. Dick never says anything and Wally often chases it out of his mind, but whenever they're together they know the giant elephant is also in the room; suffocating and waiting for one of them to crack. Dick never gives full-body hugs now.

He stiffens when Wally touches him even though it's been a good two years-and-then-some, and though Dick looks him in the eye Wally knows Dick's piercing, lilac-less gaze is forcing its way through nineteen years of idiocy and ignoring six years of a torturous, accursed romance.

Wally knows he can call himself the Flash, hone his own city—go off to fucking college-and Dick will still make him feel stupid. Unaccomplished.

Unchanging.

Roy's lived in a new apartment aside from the one-studio he owned when around Wally's age. It's in a nicer part of Star City and although he doesn't operate on Ollie's terms anymore, Wally knows they're speaking to one another. That they're in good relations. They have been since Uncle Barry's death. And surprisingly? It's Roy who extended the apology; who swallowed his pride and made amends with Ollie.

He's not surprised when it's Black Canary—his old combat mentor—who opens the door. Dinah stares at him, decked out in what apparently passes for civvies in Star City, looks down to the pack of diapers, and smiles. "Hungry?"

Wally smiles almost shyly. "You bet."

Dinah opens the door wider without second thought, turns her head, and goes to the small room that works like a kitchen. Wally looks around the apartment, closes the door behind him, and listens idly to the newsman talk about Star City and some cat that apparently stopped a fire or something.

"I volunteered to babysit Lian for a few hours," Dinah says in good conversation. It's funny, Wally thinks. As Wally West he gets the full motherly doting from Aunt Iris, but he can never escape that feeling in the Watchtower as Dinah and the rest of the elder leaguers dote on him like a little kid.

"She doing well?" Wally asks almost awkwardly.

"She's only six months old. Getting bigger every day." Her lips twist knowingly and she passes a subsandwich across the counter. "Roy needs a break once in a while. Stretch his legs."

"I know the feeling." With his metabolism, Wally could finish the sandwich in seconds. He doesn't want to, honestly, and takes bites in low strides. They sit in silence; each eating their own sandwiches, and flip through the news channel like it's nothing. It's nice to know, Wally thinks with a small smile, Dinah still sees him as him.

It's half an hour later that Lian starts crying from the nursery. Roy still isn't back yet while Dinah excuses herself to comfort the poor child, and Wally's already done with his classes. He could talk to Dinah; tell Dinah to talk sense into Dick, but it's a bitter taste on his tongue now, when he says Dick's name in public.

He steps into the room adjacent to the nursery, eyes sifting through warm red walls. Wally's exhausted. He crawls into the bed, closes his eyes, and dreams like the little boy who wanted to meet his greatest hero.

-x-

It's dusk when Wally finally wakes up. Bruce might mangle him for being late for monitor duty. He wouldn't be surprised; not after Dick's haste-though-not-really-haste decision to move out of the Wayne Manor into a penthouse. Dick isn't particularly business-savvy, but much like Bruce, Dick can be a charmer. He's probably feeding off scholarship money, just to piss Bruce off. If Wally ever moves from his place on Roy's comfy mattress, he already knows how the conversation will go when he gets to the Watchtower.

Shayera will give him a playful look and tease him for adopting Barry's habit of being late. She'll have an entrée of enchiladas and iced mochas for him to eat, whether or not he's already had dinner. Uncle John and Uncle Hal—John and Hal will join in the good-natured teasing and ask him how his day went and what kept him away.

John'll scold him for the low score on his exam. Clark'll say if he needs the time off to study for college, he's welcome to it. Diana'll offer to give him a massage.

And like always, Wally will smile, shake his head, and sink into a conversation his full-heart isn't in. He'll wonder to himself, Is this what Uncle Barry would do?,and look into the eyes of everyone who crosses him. The JLA isn't anything like Young Justice; back when Wally was a stupid fifteen-year-old kid who didn't worry as much.

Who thought about the way light hits Dick's eyes, and how the blue gleams with gentle lilacs. It's tougher. It's about independent heroes who want to help people—who are the mentors. They're the front-line. Not covert. Not always astrous. No Dick, to come swinging in his scaly underoos and pixie boots.

The lamplight on the nightstand suddenly turns on. KFC chicken, thickly scented, wafts into Wally's nostrils and his stomach grumbles faster than his eyes flutter open. Wally looks up to the plate, sees ketchup, and four chicken breasts, and a long arm that breaks off from a redheaded trunk.

"Look what we found in Daddy's bed, Lian." The amusement in Roy's tone makes the blood in Wally's skin shudder. Two of the past four years have been spent taking the blows from Roy's spouts of anger, and watching his other best friend with a languid smile always brings the color back to his own face.

Makes him look back while he's running and never regret his path forward. A smirk coils across Wally's face, weary and pinched, but the familiar flutter at the tips of Wally's fingers makes him not care. "You let her see everyone that's in your bed?"

Roy smirks back, amusement returning to his voice as he sets the plate on Wally's lap. "Only the ones I like."

Wally smiles, muttering a quiet thanks, and stares at the chicken. It's his favorite, and Wally knows Star City well enough that there isn't a KFC around. The fact Roy went out of his way to get some is surprising. Roy's lips are slowly graced with their own smile, and it's different from Dick's. These days most of Dick's smiles are forced, sarcastic, or bittersweet. They're different from the mischievous little boy whose laugh haunted the underworld of Gotham and lack the joy.

With Roy's smiles, they're almost leers. Roy has been trained with deathly accuracy and sharpness like one of his bows. When Roy smiles, it hits Wally square in the chest and pierces through the last two years of shit.

Their silence has grown a little awkward. Suffocating, sort of, as Wally picks on his windbreaker and looks away. "I…I have monitor duty tonight. Won't be staying long."

Lian gurgles. Wally's been told stories about Lian's birth. Roy had fallen in love while on an undercover mission, and after Lian's birth, Cheshire disappeared. No one has seen her since those six months ago, and Roy never brings her up. Wally knows it isn't his place to pry. When Lian giggles again, chubby hands waving in the air, Roy seconds her apparent notion.

He says with dry wit, "Uncle Jerkface apparently doesn't want to spend any time with us, Lian. He's apparently too good to tell Daddy why he's here."

"Dude—sour sauce-"

"Uncle Jerkface is apparently mad." Roy's voice is filled with so much deadpan that Wally isn't sure whether to take him seriously or glare. He pulls the small child tightly against his chest and saunters out of the room. "C'mon, Uncle Jerkface. I don't want to fall asleep to the stench of chicken."

Wally glares but says nothing. He follows Roy out of the room and waits as Lian is put in a high-chair.

Anyone who doesn't know Roy well would say that he's changed. Different. He's not the smug hotshot archer Ollie's taken in as a ward, or the snarky hothead that won't drop a fight until he's won. What Wally sees is the same man he's known for six years: the man that has a large heart, firm hug, and voice that doesn't soothe. Dick's voice is soothing. Roy's voice is structure.

He partly wonders if someday he could be just like Roy. If…if he could have his own kids, find a woman who knows his very essence, and smile the way Roy smiles whenever he looks at Lian. If Wally has a daughter he automatically knows he'd name her Iris, for the woman who raised him like a son. He imagines a son named Barry—or even Henry; Barry's middle name.

Richard Henry West.

Suddenly the smile drops from Wally's face and he shoves away both the thought and crushes a chicken breast like it's his head. The last thing he wants to do is name a son after a boy he's been in love with since he was thirteen. Boy that rejected him even though everyone else thought he'd accept.

"This is about Dick, isn't it?" Roy's voice returns to its normal sternness. It isn't harsh. Roy's voice has never been harsh when it comes to Wally. It doesn't make him feel incompetent, stupid, and in need of a therapist.

"He quit the team last week and gave leadership to Vic." Wally looks down to his fingers. They're stained with oil, ketchup, and bits of crispy chicken. "He…quit being Robin last night."

Roy snorts, like there's a joke that's been said that Wally doesn't understand, then treks into the kitchen and pulls out baby food. Wally silently zips through drawers until he finds a baby bib, then returns and ties it around Lian's neck. "Dick can't handle something without making a scene about it."

"Dick tries to be subtle," Wally says quietly. He doesn't know why he's vouching for his best friend. Even now, when he's frustrated that Dick's moving forward with his life and forgetting all his friends. Forgetting…him. When he says subtle, he's referring to a particular circumstance, and Roy's picked it up before Wally can put it down.

In this house, it's never about Wally's feelings for Dick.

Dick can rule Wally's life all he wants, but Roy doesn't shove it in his face about where Wally stands when it comes to his best friend, and he's absolutely grateful. Roy holds a baby spoon in his hand and Lian claps happily. "Dick is a dick."

Wally bites back a smile. "His name's Dick."

"No. He is a dick." Roy smirks. It's part of the old Roy that shows up with the familiar chivalry and haughtiness that makes part of the weight vanish from Wally's heart. "He forgets his age, too, you know. Most kids his age don't deal with creeps like Penguin or Joker. Dick's gotten to the point where he thinks if he doesn't put the weight on his shoulders, no one will."

They stand together now with Roy cooing food into Lian's mouth and Wally wiping the bits of mashed peas that don't make it down Lian's esophagus. She babbles short syllables, reaches out for the spoon, and gleams with her father's rarely seen smile.

"They'll look to me to bring him back," Wally says softly. Roy's having trouble the fourth time getting the spoon in Lian's mouth, so Wally swipes it, pretends it's an airplane, and Lian eats it with a toothless grin.

Roy laughs. It's as empty as Wally's chest feels. "Same as always."

"Yeah," Wally replies. They'll look to him to bring Dick back, and Wally will plead Dick to reconsider. Dick'll shrug him off and push him away. Further, until Wally hears a sickening crack in his ears and Dick's so far away he might as well be on Mars. And Wally's heart will still throb. "Things haven't change."

Roy hums in agreement and they continue feeding Lian in silence. At some point she gurgles and coos and Wally sees more mashed peas end up on her bib rather than mouth. By the time they're done Lian's been put down for the night, already asleep in her crib before Roy even turns the light off and after she's been given a bath. He's as wet as a rat from Lian splashing and completely soaked, but looks unfazed at the fact his daughter nearly drowned him.

He guides Wally to his room, offering a wry, Roy smirk, and tosses clothes to an only half-drenched Wally. Roy is, contrary to popular belief, a good conversationalist. He knows what to say at exactly the right time, but Wally's gotten so used to Roy's heartfelt silences that he likes talking to them. He remembers sneaking out and breaking curfew on school nights when Uncle Barry knew he'd go to Star City. To talk to Roy's silences, sit with his anger, and hug Roy like in a second it'll go away.

But nowadays the change between them is so different that it's almost suffocating. Wally's silences have their own loud, terrifying voice and Roy talks straight through them. Just like now.

"What are you going to do?" He asks as he changes out of his shirt into a new one. There are scars, Wally notices, adorning Roy's chest. Almost like art.

It's been at least an hour and a half, so Wally knows he's already missed a good chunk of monitor duty. He shrugs. "I'll do what's asked of me." Nothing else is said, then Wally stands up, silently sliding the Flash ring on his finger. They've relocated to the living room where empty plates of KFC chicken rest on the coffee table.

"Do you want him to come back?"

I want my life back, when Uncle Barry was still alive, Artemis was still up my ass, and Dick's smile smelled like lilacs. Wally says nothing—especially not the last one—and instead keeps his mouth shut tighter. He doesn't want this Dick back. He doesn't want the Dick that clearly does not want anyone else. That doesn't want him.

"You used to automatically say yes to something like that." Roy doesn't scoff, he just looks to the TV. Without Lian cuddled on his lap Roy looks like someone fresh out of college and looking ready to start a life. He seems so solid and tangible compared to what Wally feels, and so mature. A race Wally can run, and he won't suffocate from debris. He pulls fingers through the knots in his hair, bites his lip, and controls his pulse. Roy continues. "You don't need to do something just because you feel obligated to."

"You mean be like you," Wally says, fingers cradling the ring tightly around his knuckle. He's referring to all those years back when they extended an invitation to Young Justice, or even a year ago when the Titans were first formed. Roy hasn't joined any of them—even if the latter team was to make a name for themselves. Wally doesn't have much to say—he only stuck around for a month before the JLA needed them.

"No," Roy says. It's a calm tone, almost like Uncle Barry used to speak with him. "Be what you want to be."

It's terribly cliché, and such an over-used phrase that Wally shouldn't get choked up over, but he does. The TV is deaf in his ears, and Roy looks incredibly, terrifyingly tangible from where Wally's standing. His cheeks dust with—maybe not pink, but something nice. Hopeful. A starry feeling swells in Wally's chest and he stares at Roy's blue eyes with stun.

"I," Roy says. I. Not the Titans need you, or the League needs you, but Roy, "don't want you to feel tied down to anything. Not now, not ever."

Wally's heart skips a beat. Roy's standing parallel to him and he can feel the heat flutter from his best friend's chest. It's stable. Calming.

"Smile more," Roy continues, voice constructed and serious. "You look fucked up without one, West."

"I…Roy." Wally's throat goes dry. "Roy…Roy." He feels like an idiot but doesn't particularly know why. Roy's callused fingers graze his jaw line, rugged and terse against his freckled skin, and his chest wants to wrap tightly around that feeling. "…what the hell is that grin for?"

"You've got ketchup and chicken on your chin. Messy eater." Roy's lips curl into a smirk and he flips the crumbs from under his fingers. "Come by anytime. Lian likes her Uncle Jerkface."

"…okay." Wally's eyes end up at his feet as they say goodbye to one another. By the time the door closes behind him, he already wants to visit Roy again.

-x-

Author's Note:

So this may be hard to believe, but I've actually been working on this story since around April. It's pretty long and at the moment, it's all I can really offer you. :) I'll post an explanation as to why this is the first you've heard of me maybe with next week's update, but focusing on this one—this is what I would like to call my current, favorite, and easiest to write project at the moment. Obviously Roy/Wally isn't a large fanbase, but it's got a pretty core one, doesn't it? Baha. There are gonna be quite a few comic references in this story, if you haven't noticed. This was originally a request on the YJAM that spiraled on its own, and—well, if I posted it, actually, you may not feel as enthralled in the story. So, I hope you like it so far and hope you'll read more!