A/N: This was inspired by a prompt from tumblr user radioactive-earthshine.

Dick had showed up at Wally's house with a box wedged under one arm and hadn't let Wally take it off his hands, or even touch it. That had struck Wally as a little odd at first, but when you were friends with a kid who spent his evenings hanging with a man dressed as a bat and swinging from rooftops, you got used to odd.

"So… are you going to tell me what's in the box?" Wally asked as Dick set it down on the bed.

"Eventually." Dick tried for a smirk, but the tension in his eyes ruined the effect. Wally sighed. Dick had been stressing on and off for weeks due to some long-running spat with Bruce. He often called Wally late at night after patrol to vent, though he hadn't given away that many details and hadn't called for the last week or so.

"Is this about that thing with Bruce?"

"Kind of." Dick frowned at the ceiling for a moment before he started talking again. "I'm… not Robin anymore."

"Since when?"

"About a week ago." Dick wouldn't look at him, instead focusing on the box with a ferocity that would've scared Wally had it been directed at a person.

"Why didn't you tell me, dude? You didn't have to deal with that alone. What happened?"

"Bruce fired me." Dick avoided the other question, but Wally could deal with that in a moment.

"Can he even do that?"

Dick shrugged. "Apparently. Alfred called me after I left and tried to make me come back to the manor, but since that request didn't come from Bruce…"

"Wayne manor's your home," Wally said, grabbing Dick's shoulder. "Where the hell have you been living? Why didn't you come to me?"

"I've been crashing on Clark's couch." Dick still wasn't looking at him, and it was starting to grate on Wally's nerves. "I… needed his advice and I didn't want to worry you."

"You didn't want to worry me," Wally muttered. "Dude, I've had to carry your unconscious ass to the bioship at least three times this year. You don't need to freak out about worrying me."

Dick waved off his concern, sitting down next to the box. "I wasn't ready to talk about it, okay? Clark helped me figure things out. I'm ready now… and I want your opinion on something."

Wally crossed his arms. "Start talking."

"In a minute. Turn around."

"Okay…" Wally did as he was told, listening to the soft scrape of cardboard against cardboard—Dick had finally opened the box. Fabric rustled, and kept rustling. "Dude, are you getting naked back there? I mean, I'm flattered but I thought we were taking it slow."

"Don't make me come over there and deflate your head." Dick's voice was a little strained, and he cursed under his breath. "I, uh, got in touch with Alfred a couple days ago. Bruce has cooled down, apparently…" Dick paused for a moment and Wally heard the snap of elastic. "…but I've reached my limit with him. I refuse to go crawling back and beg him to change his mind. If he wants me back, he can do the crawling for a change."

"It's about time you stood up for yourself," Wally said, feeling a surge of pride toward his boyfriend. Dick and Bruce had usually gotten on well, but when they fell out, they really fell out. "Nobody should be allowed to treat you like that."

"Alfred agrees with you." More rustling, and a couple soft thuds on the flood. "He wants us to get along and be one big happy family, but he's tired of Bruce being an authoritative asshole just as much as I am. I love Bruce, I really do, but he's got the emotional maturity of an eight-year-old." Dick paused. "That probably wasn't the best way I could've put that… since that's how old he was when… yeah." Dick cleared his throat. There were a few more soft noises. "Okay, you can turn around."

Wally turned back to face Dick again, and couldn't stop his jaw from dropping. Dick was wearing a new costume… a very flattering new costume. Damn, it hugged his body perfectly, the different shades of black and grey and armour padding accentuating all the right places as Dick turned on the spot to let him have a good look. It struck Wally just how much Dick had grown since he'd been that cheeky little thirteen-year-old. Wally officially had a thing for well-sculpted, compact muscle. And cute butts, of course, but that was no secret.

"So… what do you think?" Dick asked when Wally had been silent for at least a minute.

"It's… wow."

Dick snorted. "With that eloquence, you should be an art critic."

Heat rose in Wally's face, and he knew he had to be as red as his hair. "Shut up. So, uh, no cape?"

"I've hated capes for years," Dick admitted. "Glad to finally get rid of the damn thing."

"So am I." Wally blushed even deeper when Dick laughed at him, shaking his butt as if he was trying to see how red Wally could get.

"You're adorable." He grabbed Wally's hands and dragged him closer, kissing his nose. "So, you really like it?"

"I really do." This blush wasn't going anywhere any time soon, but since Dick found it endearing, it wasn't all bad. "What are you going to call yourself?" he asked, freeing one hand to run his fingers over the blue silhouette of a bird on Dick's chest.

"Call me Nightwing." As Dick spoke, he seemed to grow taller. It was only then that Wally realised how much the stress of the last weeks had been pressing him down into a slouch.

"Hello, Nightwing. Nice to meet you."

"Dork." And then Dick kissed him.