A.N.: So I've recently gotten involved in YJ, and I am absolutely in love with it! I've always loved Robin (Batman: TAS, and Teen Titans), but I just think he is TOO cute in this show! Also, I loved Flash in Justice League, so seeing him all teenager-y made me happy! Thus, Birdflash has happened. This can be read alone, or I can expand it. I'm not sure yet. But I'd love to hear what you guys think! Also, I don't own YJ, or DC Comics. I'd be very happy if I did, though. Thanks for reading!

He liked Gotham Academy just fine. Sure, the kids were stuffier and the hallways were way harder to rig into some sort of practical joke and the teachers had no sense of humor whatsoever. And the food portions weren't nearly as large as a public school's, because rich kids are supposed to be birds, apparently. And the tests were a lot harder, not that he struggled any. And the breaks in between classes were short and supervised, and -

In short, there was only one thing that kept Wally enamored with the accursed school. Or rather, only one person.

Richard Grayson. Petite, slim, raven hair, deep blue eyes that seemed to lure Wally in with just a wayward glance, and that adorable giggle (not a chuckle or a laugh - a giggle) that stopped the ginger right in his tracks.

It had been Wally's fourth day at Gotham Academy when he heard that noise. It was like a sweet sort of birdsong that appealed to every one of the speedster's senses; he could even taste the honey-like sound, it was that amazing.

Richard had been walking with his gaggle of friends, joking about that one kid who always confused circumscribed polygons with circumcised polygons. The wordplay itself was geeky and completely below Wally's array of humor, but when the pun came from Richard, it might as well have been from Narcissus himself.

Perhaps Wally was dramatizing the ebony-haired boy's attractiveness; but to the redhead, Richard Grayson truly was something special.

There were only a few problems to this "Wally-and-Richard-will-find-each-other-and-be-married" idea. The ginger was two years older - he and Richard shared no classes, save for lunch. Frankly, Richard didn't even know that a certain Wally West went to Gotham Academy, let alone existed. What was worse was the frightening rumor that Richard's adopted father, Bruce Wayne, was very protective of his ward - surely dating an over-excitable redhead would not be in the millionaire's future plans for his son.

And lastly, Wallace West was a sidekick. This was why he transferred to Gotham Academy; or rather, Gotham City in general. Good old Uncle Barry thought that it would be a good learning experience for Kid Flash to spend some time learning under the one and only Batman. It would give Wally a certain discernment he needed whilst fighting crime that the Flash was certain he currently lacked. The kind of discernment that prevented Wally from overlooking his opponents - Batman himself said that it could save the sidekick's life.

And Wally couldn't have been more thankful. If it hadn't have been for his lack of caution, the ginger would've never caught sight of the blue-eyed wonder that was Richard. Even if he didn't love Gotham Academy too too much.

Currently, the freckled teen was trying to remember the stupid, complicated code to his locker. Teenagers were impatient, thought it was significantly harder for the speedster to keep his concentration than most teenagers, because Waly never liked to wait for anything. He didn't want to be patient; rather, he desired to just rip the metal off its hinges and be done with the whole situation.

Combinations. Were literally pointless. What, was someone going to steal Wally's calculator? Perish the thought!

(Actually, Wally did kind of need that piece of technology - it was sort of expensive).

Growling to show his superiority to the metal door, Wally slammed his fist into it, leaving the slightest of dents that did nothing to harm the ginger's hand. He considered just facing the wrath of his history teacher when the sound of laughter reached the redhead's ears.

But, it wasn't really laughter. It was a gi-

No. Richard couldn't see him like this - frustrated and upset and abusive to school property. Not exactly the greatest of first impressions.

"I'm going to assume that you and Mr. 64 don't exactly see eye to lock?" came the smooth and light voice of the object of Wally's current affection. Richard stood before the exasperated ginger, hair perfect, smirk in place, and his hand pointed towards the still-closed doctor.

The question confused and startled Wally for a few milliseconds before he noticed that his locker, the demon-possessed door that it was, was Locker 64. Smooth, Wallace. Totally smooth.

"Yeah, he really likes some light reading, I guess. Because, you know, my books are being held captive like tiny damsels in distress."

Richard's blue eyes twinkled in amusement. "I can't imagine that you want to get your Algebra book back, though."

"I don't seem like a Mathlete to you?" Wally responded, trying very hard to mask his nervousness with confidence. That's what he always did when anxiety reared its ugly head; it was pushed down with a layer of false nonchalance.

Sometimes, Wally pulled off this transition seamlessly.

At others, he failed miserably, ending in utter and horrifying embarrassment.

"You just haven't signed up for any extracurriculars yet. I sorta figured that you were a bit of an introvert." Richard leaned against the unoccupied locked next to Wally, smiling and looking interested in the conversation. "You proved me wrong."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Depends."

"On what?"

"On…I'm not quite sure. Do you need any help on your locker?" Richard asked, pointing to the demon-seed device. Starting, Wally nodded lamely, stepping aside as the raven-haired teen fiddled with it for a few moments, smirked once more, and turned the lock accordingly; he made a show with his hands as the lock clicked in acceptance of the code. "Your Algebra book is saved."

The ginger laughed in thanks. "You're pretty good at lock picking, huh?"

Shrugging, Richard responded, "It's just something I sort of picked up. You should see Bruce. He's fantastic at that sort of stuff." The blue-eyed boy stopped to consider himself. "I'm Richard Grayson, by the way. And Bruce is-"

"Bruce Wayne? Millionaire? I may have some familiarity with the name. I think everyone in Gotham might." Richard smiled sheepishly at the ginger's comment. "I'm Wally, by the way."

The ebony-haired teen extended his hand as only the son of an aristocrat could. "You can call me Dick, if you want."

Returning the handshake, Wally quirked an eyebrow. "Dick?"

"Or Richard. Or Ricky. Or Rick, if you really feel like annoying me."

It was strange, Wally found, that someone so "unattainable" as Dick was actually quite nice and funny. And cute. Dick Grayson was really cute. "You know," Dick started, his voice soft and airy, "we've missed fifteen minutes of our classes."

"Huh," answered the redhead stupidly.

"You know what's even weirder?"

"Huh?"

"I don't really mind."

Feeling his face light up much like a Christmas tree would, Wally scratched the back of his neck nervously. "I can't say that I mind too much, either. You're pretty...cool." This statement elicited a sweet giggle from Dick.

"I should probably be getting back to class." With that, the raven-haired teen turned and began to walk away, but not before stopping and walking back to the lonesome ginger. "Is it true?" he asked softly, almost shyly, with seemed to be an odd sort of thing for the very-confident Richard Grayson. He always seemed to be parading through the hallways with such an air of togetherness that it seemed improbable that Dick could be, even for a moment, shy.

However, the odd question caught Wally off-guard. "Is what true?"

The smirk resurfaced on the blue-eyed boy's face. "That you were checking me out the other day?"

"Oh...that..."

What should he say? Should he even respond? Could he pretend to start speaking gratuitous Spanish (Wally did know quite a bit of Spanish)? Wally's freckles were likely to be completely hidden by his very red blush. "I'm one to neither confirm nor deny," the ginger answered wisely, feeling quite tempted to stroke his chin like a cool sagewin one of those movies.

"Well, if you were, then I would consider giving you my phone number. But since you are neither confirming not denying this, I should just return to my classes. I'll see y-" Dick began, stopping abruptly as he was cut off.

"If I said 'yes', what would you do then?" the redhead replied quickly, breathing nervously when the brunette swerved around. His blue eyes were wide in what could only have been disbelief, but that was impossible. It was Richard Grayson, after all.

Wally took a deep breath. "Because I was."

With a light smile that made him look so adorable it was criminal, Dick fished in his pocket for an expensive-looking pen (if there was a fancy pen competition, Dick would win without contest). The brunette grabbed Wally's hand and made delicate or strokes on the freckled teen's hand. It tickled like no other, yet Wally kept his hand still for fear of Dick getting upset and storming off.

That would certainly suck.

Once he was finished, Dick pulled away and looked quite pleased with himself. "There. You can call whenever, but I can't promise that I'll always pick up. I don't have a cell phone, so I just use the home phone. But Alfred usually's the closest to it. He's the butler, by the way."

Bruce Wayne's son. Butler named Alfred. Rich kid, rich kid, rich kid.

Richard Grayson was a rich kid. And Wally West was the pining pauper.

Gasping and checking his watch, Dick looked up apologetically. "Listen, I have to get to class. I'll see you tomorrow?" the brunette asked hopefully. It was all Wally could do to just nod and say nothing more.

The ginger watched, perhaps a bit lustfully, Dick's retreating form, particularly his lower end. Shaking his head to get such ungentlemanly thoughts out of his mind, Wally looked intently at the number written on his hand.

He sighed when all he saw was a few pen strokes and a smiley-face.

Wally West had been duped.