Chapter Text
Do not get him wrong, the Allen family’s country estate was beautiful, and lived up to its title of being well known for being warm and homey— but Dick was absolutely bored.
Never mind the fact that his parents had brought him along without any of his siblings— because they were still a little too young to be attending formal events. And him, being the firstborn son and heir to the title, despite being the age of three and ten, was expected to behave with all the grace of a Wayne, and not like a child that he actually was.
So here Dick was, seated next to his parents, watching the adults in the room chatter about mindless things. His father seemed to notice the lack of attention from him and sighed.
“Richard, if you wish to take over my duties one day, it is important for you to learn the art of conversation,” his father muttered, voice low and laced with both authority and patience.
“Of course, Father,” Richard mumbled, straightening his posture and schooled his features into polite attentiveness, forcing himself to listen to the conversation at hand, though he was already planning for an escape route internally.
His mother, ever the perspective, leaned in close and squeezed his arm knowingly. “How about you go and take a walk in the gardens and freshen up a little, dearest?” She suggested, her eyes filled with understanding. “I’m sure Lord Allen and Lady Allen would not mind.”
But there's someone who did mind it. By his look alone— narrowed eyes and a tightened jaw— Dick already knew the answer to his unspoken question.
And it seemed like his mother did too.
“Bruce,” Selina said curtly, staring hard at her husband— hard enough for him to actually falter. Yet, he did not change his mind. “Allow him to be excused.”
Bruce gave Dick a look that was assessing and firm, the kind that meant this is important before glancing at his wife. “He is here to learn, Selina.”
“He is just but a child,” Selina argued quietly, her gaze hardening yet her hand on Dick’s arm remained gentle. “If you truly wish for him to be a great duke one day, then he must also learn how to live.”
Though the tension in his jaw did not ease one bit, his father simply waved a hand in dismissal. Dick perked up in delight but masked his features into something neutral.
“Thank you, Mama,” he whispered to Selina, pecking her cheek in gratitude before slipping away quietly from the crowd of esteemed adults, who would not bat an eye at his disappearance. He’s a child, after all.
The cool evening air caressed his cheeks gently the moment he stepped foot outside, and he felt like he could finally breathe without the lingering presence of his strict father.
The garden itself was stunning— rows and rows of various flowers, endless hedges and a grand fountain that sat in the centre of it all. It was a perfect place to hide, to get away from all the weight that was bearing down on him.
With a sigh of relief, Dick sat himself on the edge of the fountain and let his fingers thread through the water, watching as the ripples distorted his reflection. Out here, alone, he was not Richard Grayson Wayne, the future Duke of Gotham— but merely a boy who simply wanted a life of his own making. He closed his eyes for a moment, relishing in the quiet presence of only himself.
Or, well, so he thought.
The sound of a branch snapping followed by a yelp had him on high alert, causing him to snap open his eyes and to scan his surroundings carefully.
Then, a rustle of trees along a string of muffled curses had him turning around, catching sight of a boy around his age with unruly red hair and shimmering green eyes, dangling from one of the branches.
Dick blinked— his expression was a mix of amusement and disbelief. “You there,” he called out, watching as the boy’s eyes widened in surprise, clearly not expecting an audience. “Do you require assistance or do you simply enjoy defying gravity?”
“Perhaps a little bit of both,” the boy replied with a grunt, struggling to hold on to his branch. “While I do enjoy defying gravity, as you said, it seems that I may have miscalculated the strength of the branches.”
“Clearly,” Dick could not help but to retort as he walked over to the boy, his sharp eyes expertly scanning the tree. He had climbed trees many times before— he liked the feeling of being in the sky, feeling like he was almost flying, despite his father’s disdain for the hobby. But really, it was either a tree or one of their expensive chandeliers. “Try to move over to that branch beside you. It is not of great height and you should be able to jump down safely.”
“Yeah?” The boy said, his hold on the branch clearly getting weaker each second. “And if I were to fall and break a limb, what happens then?”
“You will not fall, nor break a bone,” Dick assured him, positioning himself under the boy with his arms outstretched. “I shall catch you. I have prevented my brother from many falls. I will not let you hit the ground, I promise you.”
The boy seemed skeptical but it was clear he had no other choice but to trust him, seeing as how he continued to slip. He let out a resigned sigh. “Fine. But if you do drop me, I shall haunt you. Forever.”
Amused, Dick could not help but to huff a laugh at the boy’s antics as he positioned himself more securely. “Duly noted. Now, on the count of three—”
“No, no— no counting,” the boy interjected quickly, his voice tinged with nervousness. “I shall simply—” Before he could finish, his fingers gave out and he slipped with a yelp.
True to his word, Dick caught him easily, though he did stagger slightly from the unexpected weight, but years of physical training meant he had no trouble steadying himself.
Unable to help himself, he stared closely at the boy’s features. Freckled face along with ginger red hair and the most mesmerising green eyes— it was not like his mama’s, but it was just as beautiful as hers.
The boy let out a breath of relief, breaking Dick out of his thoughts as he found himself secured in Dick’s arms. He blinked up at him and grinned sheepishly. “Huh. You actually caught me.”
Dick huffed out a chuckle, carefully setting him down. “I keep my word.”
The boy dusted his clothes, looking much more relaxed now that he was off the tree. “And you have my thanks.” He gave a dramatic bow, tipping an invisible hat. “Wallace Allen, or Wally, at your service.”
Dick tilted his head, his eyes studying the boy— Wally, in front of him. “Allen? You’re the son of Viscount and Viscountess Allen?”
“That I am,” Wally beamed, flopping down onto the grass uncaringly and patting the empty spot next to him, a clear signal for Dick to join him.
Dick eyed the grass before settling himself next to the redhead. “I was not aware that the Allens had a son of my age.”
Wally leaned back on his elbows, staring up at the starry night sky. “Papa insists I stay out of society’s reach until I reach the age of eight and ten. He claims I am still a child.”
It was not unusual— noblemen delaying their heir’s duties until they were of mature age. Selina wanted that for Dick, but Bruce wanted otherwise. It was the usual argument between his parents.
“How fortunate of you, then,” Dick muttered, bringing his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. “My father believes it is most important to learn at a young age. Hence, my presence here tonight.”
“And… if I may ask, of what age did you start your lessons in nobility?” Wally asked, tilting his head toward Dick with genuine curiosity.
Dick exhaled through his nose, tearing his gaze away from Wally, his fingers toying with the grass beneath them. “As soon as I could walk, talk and sit still for hours.”
Next to him, Wally let out a low whistle. “That early?”
Dick hummed in confirmation. “My father is the Duke of Gotham. He believes that discipline and duty should be instilled from the moment one is able to comprehend their responsibilities, just as it was instilled in him at my age.” His fingers absentmindedly traced patterns in the grass. “He has high expectations.”
“Oh? A duke in the making?” Wally teased, placing a hand on his chest and bowing his head slightly. “A pleasure to make an acquaintance with you, your future dukeship.”
Dick wrinkled his nose in distaste. “Simply call me Richard or Dick, if you please,” he insisted. Then, with a grimace, he added. “I would actually prefer it if you called me by Dick.”
Wally grinned. “Dick, then.” He paused, tilting his head to the side, his expression thoughtful. “But do you not feel exhausted? Always trying to meet your father’s expectations— the ton’s? You are merely a child after all.”
The sudden question had Dick hesitating for a moment. “It is,” he said after a pause, glancing at the estate where his parents— particularly, his father— remained. “But it is what is expected of me. I am my father’s heir. It is my responsibility to carry the weight of our family name.”
This was the first time Dick opened up about his struggles of being the heir to the most influential family in Gotham. Wally was quiet, as though thinking of the right words to say.
The redhead stared at him— in pity or in awe, he was not entirely sure. “Are you allowed to… do whatever you desire to do?”
Dick considered the question. “Not often. My mama tries to give me moments of freedom as much as she can, but my father—” He trailed off, shrugging as casually as he could. “He means well.”
“I see,” Wally muttered, scooting close to him until their shoulders touched. He nudged Dick’s shoulder with his. “But you shall not need to pretend with me. Right now, you are simply Dick.”
At his words, Dick smiled softly, glancing at the redhead. “I am fortunate to meet someone who understands, in some way.”
“Of course. Whatever friends are for, right?” Wally grinned, nudging his shoulder playfully again.
And that was how friendship was created by the two heirs.
Years passed and the two of them were closer than ever, despite the heavy weight of their duties now that they were in their twenties. Their friendship remained strong even as the expectations upon them grew heavier with age.
Dick had long adopted his role as the future Duke of Gotham. He carried himself with poise and grace, as one would expect from the Waynes’ heir, always mindful of his duty— of his title, and always careful to uphold the reputation of his family. Yet, Wally remained a close friend of his, the person who saw him more than just an heir— more than just a title.
Wally, too, had stepped into his responsibilities now that he was a man. As the son of Viscount Allen, he was expected to take on the affairs of his estate, to learn the ins and outs of managing and overseeing his family’s wealth and influence.
It was not easy to simply hang out with each other, especially with the amount of duties they had to handle. But nonetheless, they managed to make their friendship work. Be it some kind of letter in a messy scrawl, a fleeting moment of knowing smiles and eye contact in balls, hanging out at the gentlemen’s club for a brief while before heading back to their respective families— it was enough.
Even now, during the Allen ball, they barely had time to talk. Yet, every time Wally passed by, he’d hand him a drink, squeeze his arm comfortingly, or just give him one of his signature Wally smiles.
“Richard!” A familiar voice called out sweetly, causing him to turn to her with a smile, excusing himself from the group of people he was talking to as she lowered down in courtesy. “My lord.”
“Donna,” Dick greeted, though less enthusiastic, it was still warm and welcoming as he caught her in a quick hug, careful not to accidentally ruin her beautiful gown. “How fare you been, dearest?”
“Oh, I have been most well,” Donna replied, letting him place a peck to her gloved knuckles in a sign of respect. “What of you, Richard? Are you in good spirits?”
“Exceptionally so, I daresay,” Dick replied with a grin, offering her a hand. “May I claim the honour of your first dance, Miss Troy?”
“You may, Mr. Wayne,” Donna teased, taking Dick’s outstretched hand and allowing him to lead the way.
Upon reaching the dance floor, heads were turned to their direction, whispers spread like a wildfire among the guests. It was expected, of course— Donna Troy and Richard Grayson Wayne were the most sought-after individuals of their generation. Their pairing were bound to create rumours of courtship, despite being merely friends.
Dick, with practiced ease, ignored the murmurs around them as he led her into the dance. The music swelled around them, the melody guiding their movements as they glided effortlessly across the floor. Donna was as graceful as ever, her steps light and sure, matching his without hesitation.
As they moved together, their steps in sync with much elegance, Dick couldn't help but to chuckle. “Father will not be pleased should he discover my name in the gossip column.”
Donna arched an eyebrow. “Yet he cares not when Jason’s name graces them near every week,” she noted, a faint smirk playing on her lips.
Unable to help himself, Dick let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “That is because Father has grown resigned of Jason’s antics to avoid social events. I can never comprehend what goes through my dear brother’s head.”
“He is truly one of a kind,” Donna laughed as he twirled her around before pulling her back into his arms. “But that is quite a strategy.”
“A strategy that I am most envious of,” he admitted with a dramatic sigh, effortlessly guiding Donna across the dance floor. “Should I do half the things that Jason did, I would not need to endure another dull dinner with Lord Cobblepot again.”
Donna chuckled, shaking her head fondly. “Ah, but you, dear Richard, are far too dutiful. Were you given the opportunity, you would still bear it all with that charming smile of yours like the heir you were raised to be.”
Dick groaned, though his smile betrayed his amusement. “A dreadful fate, truly.”
“You are the very model of a perfect heir— the golden son. I am certain Gotham would perish from shock should you create even the slightest scandal,” Donna teased, mischief twinkling in her eyes.
“Particularly my father,” Dick snorted, twirling Donna once more before pulling her back into a graceful finish as the music began to slow. “He would certainly drop dead upon the very spot should he hear such a thing.”
Donna laughed softly, squeezing his shoulder. “Do inform me if you decide to follow your brother’s path in becoming the Duke of Gotham’s next headache. I would be delighted to witness it firsthand.”
“Will do.” Dick smirked as the music came to a stop, and with a practiced bow, he lifted Donna’s hand, brushing a light kiss against her gloved knuckles. “It was a pleasure dancing with you, Miss Troy.”
“The pleasure was mine, Mr. Wayne,” Donna replied sweetly, her eyes warm as she met his gaze. “Do take care of yourself, dearest.”
Before Dick could respond, Donna had already been whisked away by one of her eager suitors. Taking the opportunity, he slipped away with the same effortless grace he carried, exchanging polite smiles and brief nods, ensuring to not linger too long enough for anyone to stop him.
Once he finally stepped out the terrace doors, Dick made sure he was hidden from the crowd by going in further into the gardens, and took his time to breathe in the cool night air that was a welcomed relief to him.
He exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders as he reached into his coat’s inner pocket. Dick should not be doing this— but no one was there to chastise him, and he was quite far from the estate to be caught.
With ease, he lit up a cigarette with a matchstick, bringing to his lips and inhaling its bitter burn before exhaling deeply, watching as the smoke curled and dissipated into the air.
It was a bad habit, one that he rarely indulged in— too many watchful eyes, and his father would be furious if he were to find out. But during times like these, he would itch for a cigarette, desperate to seek temporary relief.
Leaning against a tree, he closed his eyes briefly, relishing in the night. The distant hum of the ball continued behind him, laughter and music spilling through the terrace doors, but out here, it was a different world entirely. It was one of the things he loved about being in the Allens’ garden.
“And here I had thought you to be Gotham’s most perfect heir.”
Dick stiffened, eyes snapping open and instinctively hiding the cigarette behind his back as he turned toward the voice, ready to defend himself— only to find Wally standing a few feet away from him, his freckled face half illuminated by the moonlight, eyes twinkling as he raised an eyebrow in amusement.
“Wally,” Dick breathed out, shoulders relaxing slightly. “And I was under the impression that you were otherwise occupied with guests this evening, rather than sneaking out to the gardens.”
Wally snorted, shrugging. “Well, I was, until I saw a certain heir sneaking out as well. Curiosity got the best of me,” he replied with a playful grin. “Though I must say, this is not your best habit.”
Dick rolled his eyes and gave Wally a faint smile, bringing the cigarette to his lips and inhaling deeply as Wally stood next to him, their shoulders brushing. He offered the cigarette to the redhead, to which he made a face, causing Dick to laugh quietly.
The two heirs remained silent, basking in each other’s presence. The moon shone on them as they stood in the quiet of the garden. Wally, ever the curious one, kept his eyes on Dick, watching the cigarette smoke wafting through the air, like it was the only thing anchoring him in the present moment.
“Dance with me,” Wally spoke up quietly— quite suddenly, might he add, breaking the comfortable silence between them.
Dick blinked, momentarily taken aback by the sudden request. He turned to Wally, his brow furrowing slightly, though the corner of his lips twitched up in amusement. “What?”
“Dance with me,” Wally repeated softly, so genuinely as he stared back at Dick, offering a hand.
Dick stared at his hand and huffed a quiet laugh as he shook his head, flicking the ashes of his cigarette. He tore his gaze away from Wally’s hand to glance at the estate where the guests remained. “Wally… we—”
“I know,” the redhead interjected quickly, gesturing at the empty, secluded garden with his other hand. “But there is no one here but us.”
A dance between two gentlemen was not ideal— scandalous, even. If anyone were to find them, their names shall be ruined. And yet, the request did not seem unappealing— if anything, it was tempting.
With one last drag of his cigarette, Dick flicked it aside. The rational part of him whispered caution but another part of him longed for some kind of freedom, of fun, even if it was just for the night.
Though slightly hesitant, he took Wally’s hand, watching his best friend's smile grow as his hand curled around Dick’s, sending warmth to his body. “Just one dance,” he muttered, more to himself than to Wally.
“Just one dance,” Wally echoed quietly, pulling him close to place his arm on Dick’s waist— which for some reason, caused shivers to creep up his spine.
Under the moonlight and away from the ton’s eyes, the two heirs danced along to the music playing from the estate. Their dance was anything but formal— they were just swaying together with smiles on their faces. Them dancing together felt more real than any grand ball— and despite the fleeting nature of it, it will stay with Dick forever.
He didn't know when it happened or it had just been there all along, waiting for him to finally see it— to finally realise it, but the longer Dick stared into those mesmerising green eyes he had grown to love since he was a teenager…
He knew.
He was in love with Wallace Allen.
And there was nothing he could do about it.
It’s been months since Dick had come to the realisation that he had fallen in love with his best friend— one that was forbidden in the eyes of society.
Each day he had lived with the knowledge, its weight grew and grew, pressing against his chest almost suffocatingly. And yet, he could not bring himself to say a word. To admit it out loud, even to himself, felt terrifying. It was a risk too— they could lose everything, their friendship, their titles, their families— their very lives.
Thinking about it made him wish that he had been born a lady instead— or of a different fate. How much easier everything would be for him, for his life.
But reality itself was cruel. Every reminder of his expectations, his responsibilities, his position, even his own gender— only deepened the ache in his chest. He was bound by the rules of society, and he could not simply wish it away, however much he would like to.
The quiet moments, when he was alone with his thoughts were the worst— but being with Wally was much worse. Dick could not bring himself to distance himself from the redhead— he yearned for him, for every lingering glance, for every soft smile, for every fleeting touch. Yet, he could not ask for more.
Unable to love Wally because of their gender, unable to express the depth of his feelings— Dick was trapped in a constant battle. Wally deserved to be loved freely, to be with someone who could openly be with him, without fear or constraint or any consequences. He deserves someone who could hold him, hug him, kiss him, laugh with him without looking over their shoulder every time they touched.
Someone who was not Dick.
Even so, he was uncertain if his feelings were reciprocated. Would Wally, just as the ton, find the idea of them together scandalous? He may be the one who offered the dance first, but there was a difference between two gentlemen sharing a fleeting moment of fun in the gardens and a relationship that required secrecy and constant fear of discovery.
It pained him.
He knew it was selfish, but Dick kept Wally close to him, because the only thing he could do was stay silent and love him from a distance, no matter how painful it was.
It wasn't fair. But love rarely was.
“Your mind seems occupied,” a familiar voice remarked as Dick took another drag of his new cigarette, blankly staring ahead as he leaned against the very tree they had met at, and that hid him away from prying eyes.
When Dick had excused himself from his family to seek solitude, he had hoped for a moment of peace, a brief escape from his duties, the expectations upon him and the weight of his feelings. He did not expect company— nor did he want company. But alas, Wally always seemed to know his whereabouts.
Though the redhead’s voice pulled Dick out of his thoughts, he could not help but to feel both relieved and irritated at his presence— only because Wally was the one person he wished to avoid currently, in fear he might say the words he had been concealing.
Dick let out a quiet sigh, yet to meet Wally’s intense gaze. “I was simply seeking a moment of solitude,” he said, his voice carrying a tinge of frustration he could not quite conceal.
Clearly undeterred, Wally hummed, leaning against the tree next to him as Dick flicked the ashes off his cigarette. “You have been running off quite often, lately,” he noted, crossing his arms over his chest lazily. “Something is plaguing your mind, is it not? I worry for you, my friend.”
With a last, long drag of his cigarette, he flicked it away and put it out with the heels of his boot. “I suppose there is,” Dick muttered with another sigh.
Perhaps this was the moment he should tell Wally how he truly feels about him, but the words seemed heavy on his tongue, stuck in his throat. It had always been easier to keep those words unsaid, to quietly carry them in his heart where no one could see. But now, with Wally so close, his green eyes so full of concern, Dick felt like the truth might slip out, whether he wanted it to be or not.
“Care to elaborate?” Wally coaxed softly, though his tone was neither forceful nor impatient— it was simply an open invitation, one that Dick was tempted to take.
But he hesitated, his fingers tightening around the edge of his coat sleeves as he tried to gather the right words, or any words at all. Wally’s presence was like a pull, a constant gravitational force drawing him in. Yet, the fear of saying too much— of letting everything spill out in the open— was paralysing.
“It is…” He trailed off, frustration bubbling up again. “Complicated,” he managed to settle on with a huff, rubbing his temples as if he could will away the turmoil in his mind.
Wally hummed, still staring at him with that infuriating patience. “Complicated, how?” He urged gently, his eyes studying him.
Dick exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “Complicated as in—” He hesitated, throat tightening. “As in something that is not to be spoken of openly, or at all.”
Wally tilted his head slightly, as if considering Dick’s words with quiet understanding. “Ah,” he murmured. “A forbidden thing, then?”
“Perhaps,” Dick whispered, glancing at Wally’s face, searching for any sign of judgment, of ridicule— of anything. But there was none. “Wally… I—” He stopped himself, the words catching in his throat before it could escape.
He could feel his pulse thundering in his ears—- so loud that he was afraid Wally could hear it too. But the redhead simply waited, unmoving, unwavering.
“You…?” Wally prompted, his voice quiet and urging, as if he already knew what was on Dick’s mind but was simply giving him the opportunity to say it.
“I—” Dick swallowed, forcing himself to tear his gaze away from Wally, his fingers itching for another cigarette. “Wally— I am… I am in love with you.”
Silence.
The words hung heavy between them, and Dick could not meet the eyes of his best friend— afraid of the judgment, afraid of what he might see there.
Perhaps this was the answer he had been looking for after months of thinking, of agonising over feelings he had no name for, of running from the truth that he held close to his heart. Just— silence.
Feeling his throat tightening, Dick forced himself to swallow and to push away from the tree. “Forgive me if I had overstepped the bounds of our friendship. I would understand it if—”
“Say that again,” Wally’s voice was shaky, yet it was firm and unyielding that Dick had paused in his tracks, his head slightly turned.
“What?” Dick managed, meeting the redhead’s gaze as Wally stepped closer, his green eyes filled with a mix of desperation and something unreadable.
“Say that again— please, Dick,” Wally pleaded softly, his hands twitching by his sides, as though he was resisting the urge to reach out to him.
Dick blinked, taken aback by Wally’s desperate plea. His brows furrowed slightly, but he did not deny his request, his voice low and less hesitant. “I am in love with you.”
Wally exhaled sharply, as though the words had struck him, and before Dick knew it, the redhead was right in front of him, his fingers gripping his coat.
“Once more,” Wally murmured, his voice barely above a whisper— but there was a sense of urgency to it, a quiet, pleading insistence as his green eyes searched for his own.
Dick’s breath hitched. Did Wally not believe him? Or was he wishing to hear it again, so that he was certain he had not imagined it?
But there was something raw in Wally’s expression— something that made Dick’s heart clenched in a way he could not quite name.
Yet, he could not deny him.
“I love you,” Dick whispered, his throat tight. “But— but I cannot love you, Wally. Not without consequences to both our names, to the honour of our families, to the weight of our duties as heirs. I do not wish that for you— you deserve far more than a love concealed in the dark. You deserve one who may cherish you freely, who may stand by your side without fear— someone who is not me.”
Wally frowned, his breath hitching as his fingers tightened around the collar of Dick’s coat, his green eyes burned with something fierce— something that sent a shiver down Dick’s spine.
“And what if I do not wish for another?” Wally’s voice was rough and low, barely a whisper but Dick could hear him all too clearly. “What if the only love I have longed for is yours, and yours alone?”
Dick swallowed, his gaze flickered to the ground as his heart hammered in his chest, conflict raging in him. There was nothing he ever wanted, nothing he ever wished for than being with Wally— but the weight of his duties, his title, his family, the expectations placed upon him was crushing his chest.
“I… I cannot ask that of you,” Dick whispered, his voice cracking with raw emotions. “This— us— we are an impossibility, Wally. We are not meant to be. If my father knew— if the world knew of about us, we—”
“I care not about anyone else,” Wally interjected gently but firmly, his grip on Dick’s coat tightening ever so slightly, as though he was afraid he would slip away. “Damn them all. Let them talk— let them sneer, for it does not matter to me. You are all that matters, Dick. Without you, there is nothing.”
Dick closed his eyes, his whole body trembling. “It does matter,” he whispered. “It matters because we were never meant to have this— we were never meant to be. The world will not abide by it. My father will not abide by it. And if this truth was ever revealed— you shall suffer for the brunt of their cruelty, Wally. And I will not— I cannot— let that happen.”
Wally inhaled sharply, his fingers sliding from Dick’s coat to his jaw, tilting his face up, forcing him to meet his gaze. “If that is the consequence of loving you, then so be it,” he declared, his voice unwavering. “I love you, Dick. I have longed for you in silence, I have yearned for you in solitude. If our love demands secrecy, I shall embrace it. If the only witness to our love was the shadows alone, then so be it. I shall take whatever moments you grant me— however fleeting it may be. If secrecy is our fate, I shall bear it gladly, so long as my heart remains yours.”
Dick shook his head, his breath trembling as he forced himself to push away Wally’s hands, despite his touch being the only thing that grounded him. His heart ached at the loss of warmth, yet he could not let himself falter.
“You do not understand,” he said hoarsely, his voice barely audible. “I am trying to protect you, Wally. From the ton, from my father— they would take everything from you— they would take you away from me. And I cannot live my life knowing I have caused you such great peril.”
“You speak as though it is a decision you should make alone,” Wally murmured, stepping forward once more. “Do you think it is less cruel if you were to leave me now? To ask me to forget about this? Do you truly believe my heart would suffer less if I let you walk away, knowing we could be so much more? I do not care for the consequences, Dick. Losing you would break me more than any punishment.”
The ache in his chest intensified at Wally’s words— at the sincerity of his words, of how desperate he was to love Dick, to have him, to be by his side despite the consequences.
“Please,” Dick pleaded, taking a step back as he squeezed his eyes shut. “I cannot— I will not let you throw away your future for me.”
Warm hands grabbed his own and yanked him forward, soft lips pressing against his, causing his eyes to snap open in surprise.
Dick froze, his mind racing as he stood there in the embrace of Wally’s kiss. For a moment, everything around them, everything that was raging in his mind, ceased to exist. It was just Wally— just them, in a single, stolen moment.
Wally’s lips were soft against his, almost tentative at first, as though unsure what the action would bring. But when Dick did not pull away, the kiss deepened, Wally’s arms wrapped around his waist to pull him closer while Dick’s own hands, hesitant at first, rested on Wally’s chest, grounding himself in the warmth he longed for.
When they finally broke apart, it was merely for air. Dick’s mind raced as he processed what had occurred— but before he could, Wally pulled him in for a kiss again.
“Dick, tell me,” Wally murmured against his lips. “Tell me you do not yearn to be with me. Tell me that you do not want this, that you do not feel the same ache in your chest when we are apart. Tell me that I am wrong and I will walk away.” Wally’s voice was raw and desperate, yet it was firm and steady. “Tell me I am wrong and I will let you go. Tell me to leave, Dick, and I shall. But if you cannot deny what we both feel— what we desire, then do not ask me to walk away from you.”
Dick’s throat tightened. The rational part of him— the part that had been drilled in him since childhood, the part that always put duty first— screamed at him to push Wally away. To tell him to leave for the sake of his future and his family. To say the words he will regret the moment he forced them out of his mouth.
But then there was the other part— the selfish part who longed for love, for Wally, for his warmth, for the way he truly saw him— wanted to beg him to stay, to keep their love a secret between them and the shadows.
His silence stretched between them, causing Wally’s expression to flicker. Something in his eyes dimmed, as if bracing for rejection. As if preparing himself to be turned away.
“Dick?” Wally breathed out quietly, his eyes his face searching desperately, his arms tightening around him, as if afraid to let go. “Tell me to go and I shall go without a fight.”
Dick opened his mouth and closed it, trying hard to force out the words that he knew would protect them both, that would protect Wally. But they would not come.
Instead, the only words that did come were—
“Stay,” he whispered quietly, his voice cracking ever so slightly as his fingers tightened around Wally’s coat, not wanting to let go of the warmth around him.
Wally’s breath hitched, his expression turning surprised as if he had been expecting the worst. Dick should take it back— their love was never meant to be in this world. But he did not. He could not do it.
“Say it again,” Wally whispered, almost a soft plea as he pressed their foreheads together, the warmth in his eyes never dissipating.
Every instinct screamed at him to run from this— from the consequences, from the inevitable heartbreak they will face once the world knew about them, from Wally. But he was here, holding him, warm and steady, and the only words Dick could say was—
“Stay.”
Wally huffed out a quiet, relieved laugh as his lips were on Dick’s again— desperate and urgent, yet it was perfect, because it was what they both have longed for.
“No one must ever know of this,” Dick murmured against Wally’s lips. “No matter how much I wish to love you freely, we cannot allow ourselves to be careless— I am… afraid of losing you, afraid that you might be taken away from me.”
Wally pulled back just enough to meet Dick’s gaze, his hand cupping his face and caressing his cheek so tender that it hurts. “I am going nowhere,” he said firmly, so certain.
And Dick let himself hope.
Once again, Dick found himself kissing Wally as his hands tugged on his coat, desperate to drown himself in the warmth that only Wally could provide.
Wally let out a low chuckle, pulling away completely, leaving Dick cold as he whined at the sudden distance, immediately chasing after his lips.
“Not here, dearest,” Wally muttered as he placed a gentle hand on his chest, guiding him back to reality with a soft but firm touch. His smile was warm, yet it held a certain mischief. “Not in the open, like this.”
Dick blinked as the reality of their situation caught up to him. Right— they could not be seen by anyone. The desperate feeling of needing Wally, of longing for him, had made it hard to think. The smirk on Wally’s face caused him to blush, tearing his gaze away from him.
“Where shall we go, then?” Dick murmured, hands still clutching Wally, reluctant to let go, his voice soft and yearning.
Wally hummed, tilting his head slightly, his eyes studying Dick. “I have a private estate with no staff to disturb us,” he offered, voice dipping lower and laced with mild amusement. “Would that please you, my love?”
Dick scoffed and rolled his eyes but a small smile betrayed him. “And what of our families? We are to be expected to be seen at the ball.”
Wally sighed, yet his expression remained fond. “Well, I do not care about the ball. I only care about you, Dick,” he said, ever so tenderly. “But if you must, we can return—”
“No,” Dick cut him off immediately, hating the idea to return to the ball and pretend he was the perfect son, the perfect heir. He was all but perfect. “No, I do not wish to return. I wish to be with you for the night.”
“As do I.” Wally smiled, intertwining their fingers together as he led Dick away from expectations, from his title, from his duties.
Tonight, he was simply Wally’s.