Before It Was Cool

Rated: PG-15 to be safe.
Pairings: Implied Batflash (Wally West/Bruce Wayne)

Warnings: Implied M/M relationships, pure crack, hipsters.

Batman was brooding.

Now, this in and of itself was not an unusual occurrence, despite the happy, cheerful demeanour that normally radiated from the Caped Crusader like so many warming sunbeams. And neither was the subject of this particular BatBrood – It fell neatly into two of Bruce's oft-used categories (Because it's a poor man who doesn't exhaustively file his thoughts in the Dewey Decimal system). Number one, a team mate getting hurt, and Batman's failure to protect them – And number two; The Flash.

Now, Batman liked to think he was a reasonable man, in much the same manner as he liked to convince himself that using his vast fortune to dress up like a bat and kick people in the face was the best way of combating crime. But, as of late, any subject which involved the Flash ended up taking up far, far more time being mulled over in his brain than if the same situation involved no spandex-clad speedster. He wondered (Read: Brooded) over why this was many a time, before eventually coming to the conclusion that, as the youngest and most impetuous of them, he was merely trying to protect the speedster – After seeing the Justice Lords in all their terrible glory, he had a vested interest in keeping the Fastest Man Alive's ass out of trouble.

Not that he was thinking about Wally's ass.

Much.

But today's brood was based on the current health status of the Flash. After stopping a bank robbery with John, who he'd been out with for coffee, Wally had noticed something that the Trickster had left behind, lying on the steps of Central City bank.

Being Wally, he had picked it up.

Being Wally, he had shaken it.

And being an unlucky bastard, it had exploded in a spray of gas, directly into Wally's face, knocking him out cold.

That had been two hours ago – A seeming lifetime for Wally to be still and quiet – And only now was Batman roused from his reverie by his communicator. The Medlab was calling him.

Wally was awake.

He got into the medlab in time to see Wally protesting that really, no, really, he was fine, and citing his blood test readouts as proof.

Wally had tested completely clear for toxins. Whatever had been in that canister had seemingly burnt out of his system – J'onn assumed that it had been made with the trickster not taking into account that the Fastest Man Alive had the metabolism to go with the title. But Bruce knew better.

One thing none of Flash's Rogues were was dumb. Unimaginative? Yes. Annoying as all hell? Oh yes. But not dumb.

No, there was something amiss here. And Bruce was going to help Wally. He was going to get to the bottom of this.

Not that he was thinking about Wally's ass.

It was now entering the sixth hour since Wally's exposure to the gas. He'd been fairly quiet – Bruce's first sign something was wrong. Normally the speedster loved to talk, far too much, until Bruce wanted nothing more than to find a better use for Wally's mouth.

He almost blushed underneath the cowl at the thought. At least he wasn't thinking about Wally's ass.

But seeing Wally sitting in the corner of the room, cowl pushed back, quietly watching the others with a vaguely judging look, was a little too strange for Bruce to handle. So, after quickly fixing the League teleporter to a certain set of co-ordinates, Bruce came back from his little trip holding a white paper cup, containing a drink with enough sugar to turn any man onto strictly savoury foods for a lifetime.

Any except the man he handed the coffee to.

"Here.", he said gruffly, thrusting the cup towards a startled Wally.

"I... Bruce, you got me coffee? Does it have sugar?" Bruce smirked a little.

"Twenty-seven." Wally looked touched, and reached out for the drink, his fingertips brushing the back of Bruce's hand. "Geez, Bruce, that's...Oh." Bruce watched, a little disgruntled as Wally drew his hand back, as if the cup had turned into a turd before his very eyes. He looked down to check it was still coffee.

Yep. No steaming cup of faeces here. So, he asked Wally, what was wrong?

Wally blinked, and bit his lip in a way that Bruce definitely didn't find almost obscenely attractive. "Umm...It's just...That's Starbucks." Bruce waited.

"...And?"
"Well, it's just... mainstream."

"...You. You're worried about drinking coffee. Because it's too mainstream?"
Wally was on his feet in an instant, scanning Batman from head to toe with a scathing gaze.

"Yeah. Not that I'd expect you to understand, with your cape. Do you even know how many people wear capes nowadays?" Pretty much as soon as the sentence had left his mouth, the redhead looked confused. Bruce, meanwhile was totally floored. He even blinked behind his cowl. Twice.

"Wally, are you... Are you alright?"

"I... Yeah, I... I'm just gonna go and lie down... Think I could do with a rest." And before Bruce could insist that he stay right here, in is line of vision, where he could be safely monitored, Wally was gone, in his quarters, doubtless. Bruce could have followed, demanded to be let in, but perhaps it would be better to let Wally try to sleep of the side effects, then put this all behind.

Not that he was thinking about Wally's ass.

He wasn't obsessed. Really. He just needed to check on Wally, after his outburst yesterday, which was why he followed him to the cafeteria. He sat a table away, so as not to disturb Flash from his conversation with booster Gold and Blue Beetle. He rolled his eyes under the cowl's lenses as he heard Booster embellish his contributions to the League's latest mission, until he was practically defeating the Big Bad of the day single handedly with just one punch, while Batman, Superman and Shayera all stood on the sidelines, contemplating their navels. Normally, Flash would have listened, and probably laughed at the end of Booster's tale, calling him on his bullshit – Much like Kord was currently doing. But he'd been oddly quiet again, sitting in a silence which almost looked like a brood.

If there was one thing Batman could recognise, it was a good brood.

Apparently he wasn't alone with this, as a moment later, Booster was reaching across the table, touching his friend's shoulder in concern. "Hey, man, you okay?" Wally seemed to visibly pull himself out of his brood, and smoothed a hand across his cowl-covered scalp - He would have probably run his fingers through his hair if it had been free, Batman surmised.

"Yeah. I just.. Actually, never mind."
Now Blue Beetle was intrigued "No, there's something up. You're never normally silent for a second, and now you're going all spacey and – A quick glance in Bruce's direction to ascertain whether or not he was within hearing range – Bat-like." Wally sighed, and shrugged.
"It's just – All these newbies, y'know? Like Stargirl, Supergirl, Batgirl – They're only fighting crime because everyone else is!" Ted and Booster stared at their friend, and Batman knew why. He was normally the most welcoming of them all towards the younger heroes, not least because he was no longer the youngest.

"Umm...Buddy? You feeling alright?" Wally looked up at the blonde hero.
"I was fighting crime before it was cool!" he yelped, and ran away.

Of course, Bruce thought, internally facepalming. It was so obvious, in hindsight.

Now, when Batman invited you over to Wayne Manor, you knew it was a big deal. So, Flash turned up on Batman's doorstep, his brand-new sneakers already half worn out, he was more than a little worried, and that apprehension only grew as Alfred quietly led him through the hallways. He'd been expecting to be taken to the Batcave, and was, to say the least, surprised when Alfred led him into a nicely-furnished drawing room. The fact that he shut and, by the sound of it, locked the door behind Wally made the speedster a little nervous – The fact that the other six original members were sitting there staring at him made him very nervous.

The construct banner John had made with his ring just made him confused. Who the hell were they holding an intervention for, anyway?

"No."

"Wally..."

"No."

"Wally, please."

"Diana, no. I'm not gonna talk about it, because there's nothing to talk about!" Diana looked vaguely tearful as Superman put a hand on her shoulder, giving Wally the It's-Okay-Son look he was so good at. Batman made a low noise of displeasure in the back of his throat. "I was afraid of this." He nudged Shayera, who, after throwing a sharp elbow in the general direction of his ribs, stood up. "Wally. You're our friend, and we care about you. But..." John jumped in, seeing Hawkgirl pause. "But dear God, man, look at yourself!"

"There's nothing wrong with me!", protested a disgruntled speedster. Diana reached out, grasping both of his hands in hers. "Wally. You're wearing Converse high-tops. With skinny jeans."

"So? I like Converse, they're good for running! That's what I do, remember?"

"You're wearing fingerless gloves and a scarf!"

"I'm cold!"

"IT'S THE MIDDLE OF SUMMER!"

"Which is why I'm also wearing RAY-BANS!"

Suddenly Batman interrupted the rapidly-escalating conversation. "Wally... What's that on your face?"

"What? Bruce, what're you talking about?"
"Just above your lip." Not that he was thinking about Wally's mouth. Or his ass, for that matter.

Wally put a hand to his upper lip, feeling the slight fuzz there. For the first time since he'd walked into the room, he seemed to understand, vibrating slightly in terror. "Oh God... it's... It's an-"

"Ironic moustache," Batman finished grimly. "Flash... You've become a hipster."