It was late—later than either of them probably should’ve been awake—but that never stopped Wally.

The zeta beams had barely cooled when a streak of red zipped through Dick’s apartment window, depositing one very smug speedster right onto his bed. Dick, who had just pulled off his shirt and was planning on collapsing face-first into the mattress, froze mid-step.

“Really?” he asked flatly, hands on his hips. “No knocking? No text? You just break into my place like a criminal?”

Wally grinned, utterly unapologetic. “Hey, I am dating a vigilante. I’m just fitting the aesthetic.” He waggled his brows, then flopped onto Dick’s bed like he owned it, bouncing once against the mattress.

Dick sighed, but the exasperation was laced with fondness. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it.” Wally propped his chin in his hand, watching as Dick finally sat down next to him. The speedster’s eyes softened. “Rough patrol?”

“Mm,” Dick hummed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Long night.”

Without another word, Wally scooted closer, tugging Dick down until he was stretched out across the bed with Wally tucked right against him. Warmth radiated off him like a furnace, his arms wrapping securely around Dick’s waist.

“Better?” Wally asked quietly.

Dick chuckled under his breath, already feeling some of the tension ebb away. “Yeah. Better.”

“Good,” Wally said simply, pressing a kiss against his shoulder. “Now sleep. I’ll still be here in the morning.”

And for once, Dick believed him.