Speedster Sex
Okay, I typically shy away from actually posting my writing. But hell, this is a good forum for it, cause by god, I need help.
Rating: NC-17, I guess.
Pairing: ... Wally/Bart
Summary: Wally has some old issues. Bart’s not helping.
Note: They aren’t, technically, related. Also? Was written right before Nightwing 93. Damn you, Grayson.
Wally grunts as he hits the pavement, seemingly all the air being knocked out of his lungs at once. He sits up and rubs his head. For all his bulk, Blockbuster was quick enough to catch Wally while he was distracted. Wally looks over to see why he had been distracted. Dick’s still lying in a heap, a dented pipe by his head, but he’s moaning softly. At least he’s alive, Wally thinks. He flies back a few feet as Blockbuster takes advantage of his distracted state again. He has to stop that, he thinks. Getting distracted. As he sits up again, and focuses, he realizes Blockbuster isn’t coming after him. He was just in the way of the real target. Wally lurches to his feet, head still spinning, and starts towards Dick. Before he’s taken even one step, he’s distracted by a voice behind him.
“You can’t even take down this ugly? I was kicking his butt when I was only two.” There’s a blur of red costume and brown hair as Bart zooms past him and grabs up the pipe lying next to Dick, causing Blockbuster to stop short in surprise.
“You!” the Behemoth bellows, reaching towards Bart.
“Me,” the boy says with a smirk, connecting the pipe to the enormous skull.
“Bug! Do you really think you could hurt me?” Wally opens his mouth to shout a warning, but Bart’s already dodged the blow aimed for his upper-body.
“I think I did a pretty good job last time.” Another crack from the pipe.
“Presumptuous brat. I escaped without a scratch, unlike, I recall, you.” With those words, Blockbuster yanks the pipe away deftly, and Wally winces at the crack he knows must be at least one of Bart’s ribs as the boy goes flying several yards before landing with an audible thud on the pavement. Blockbuster moves towards the still body. Wally hopes he’s still alive. If he’s dead, somehow Wally would get blamed for it, he just knows it. Even though Bart hadn’t been invited in the first place. Wally rushes towards the giant.
“A double boon. I get to eradicate at least two of my foes who have caused me pain.” So saying, Blockbuster brings his hand back to deliver the killing blow. Head still clouded from the earlier hits, Wally doesn’t think he can make in it time.
“Get up, you idiot,” he hisses under his breath. He sees Bart stir a little, but no more. “I can’t explain this to Iris, get up! Move!” The last word is also to himself, he’s trying to make his legs move faster, but it’s not enough.
Blockbuster lets out a roar which is quickly muffled by the cloth wrapped around his head. Unnoticed, Dick had obtained an awning, and now had that around Blockbuster. His feet braced against the giant’s back, Dick tugs harder, pulling it tight around his neck, ducking and shifting his weight to avoid the giant hands clawing behind for him. Wally wants to lend a hand, but can’t see what he can do that wouldn’t cost Dick his advantage. “Move it, slow,” he hears Bart. The pipe’s back in his hand, and he’s aiming for Blockbuster’s head. One solid crack, eliciting another roar, and Bart brings his arm back for another swipe, but Wally grabs the back of his costume.
“Hey! Leggo! In case you haven’t noticed, I’m trying to help, here!”
“If you’re definition of ‘help’ is ‘accidental hit Nightwing’, then yeah, I’ve noticed.” And true, Bart hadn’t been that close to hitting Dick, but at this point, with Blockbuster’s yells muffled and his body slowly dropping to the pavement, Wally didn’t want to take a chance. He keeps his hand on Bart’s small shoulder to stay him while Nightwing finishes up. He clutches the awning until there’s no more noise from Blockbuster, and his hands, curled up into fists, relax and open. And keeps pulling. Wally sees the look on his face, the snarl of rage, and his jaw drops. A second later, he’s on top of Nightwing, wrestling him to the ground. “Stop it, Dick! It’s over.” Dick’s still glaring. “It’s over. He’s not going to hurt anyone else.” Dick glances over at the prone figure, and his jaw relaxes. He sits up, pushing Wally aside. A hand scrubs back through his hair.
“Thanks. For helping me with him.” Wally opens his mouth to ask if he’s alright, but thinks better of it and closes his mouth. He just claps a hand on Dick’s shoulder, and pulls them both to their feet. He squeezes just a bit, knowing the hell he’s been through in the last couple of weeks.
“Do you want me to stay and help clean up?”
“No,” Dick says, turning his head slightly, but not meeting
Wally’s eyes. “I’ll take care of it.”
Wally opens his mouth again.
“I’ll call the police.” He turns and rests his hand on Wally’s shoulder, squeezing back. They share a moment of loss. The loss for each being different, but cutting just as deep.
The moment is broken by the sound of large feet scuffing on the pavement. Wally rolls his eyes and drops his hand, sighing.
“Come on Bart. Time to get you home.” He meets Bart’s eyes, and can see Bart knows something’s going on, but not what it is. He softens his glare before he turns, heading towards Keystone. Sometimes it’s easy to forget Bart’s only….he’s not sure anymore. Three? Four? He’s terrible with keeping track of time. Plus he’s seen Bart’s physical aging occur so rapidly when he first got here. Physically he has to be about sixteen or seventeen, and Wally has to admit the boy’s been through a lot, has seen more trauma and death in just a few years of doing this than Wally had seen in the same time. Sometimes he thinks Bart is older than he really is, and it makes him act a bit harsher towards him than he should. He should really stop that.
“So are you usually that slow in the field, or was this a special occasion?”
He doesn’t have much incentive to stop soon, though. “Watch it. I’m not making comments on your stellar ‘hit-repeatedly with a drainpipe before even getting everyone to safety’ tactic, am I?”
“Not yet.”
Wally grits his teeth and lets the comment slide. “You’ve come up against Blockbuster before?” he says, by way of conversation.
“Yeah, a while back. When Max and I first moved to…”
Wally glances over his shoulder at Bart as the boy’s voice trails off, looking down. Then he bites his lip and lifts his head, glaring ahead. Wally looks away. Bart hasn’t talked about Max much. Wally can understand, a bit. When Barry died, he can’t say he enjoyed talking about him. He couldn’t actually do it, not without lashing out. He has to admit for an emotionally deprived youth, Bart was handling the loss of his mentor rather well. And, at least Wally had his own parents still with him, as poor excuses they were. Bart didn’t really have anyone, having been passed around continuously from his arrival. There’s a twinge of guilt which goes off in his chest as he realizes he’s partly to blame. Iris had handed Bart to him to train, and the first moment he could, he’d handed him off to Max. Then, when Max had disappeared, even though Bart was content to stay with Max’s daughter, who’d they’d been living with for some time, Wally had convinced everyone Bart belonged with a speedster, and had shuffled him to Jay. He still agrees with those decisions, and stands by them. But looking back, maybe he could have helped to make the transitions a little smoother.
“We’ll find him, Bart. We all miss him. We’ll get him back.” Wally doesn’t glance over his shoulder for Bart’s reaction.
The rest of the run is silent. Bart follows Wally to his house, and Wally’s conflicted. Since Linda’s left, the house has been eerily quiet. But at the same time, there’s only so much of Bart he can take. Especially when they’re alone. At least Linda had been able to distract him. She’d thought he was cute, she’d said she could get an idea of what Wally was like when he was a kid by watching Bart. Wally’d openly resented it, but didn’t tell her it had endeared her to him more. If that had even been possible. Linda had been…
He pushes his mask back as he walks to the fridge to grab a beer. He hears Bart’s footsteps behind him, and tosses him a soda without even asking. It might be nice to have some company for a change. He’ll just kick Bart out when he gets too annoying.
“So. How’d you take out Blockbuster the first time?” Wally asks into the awkward silence as he makes his way to the sofa. He yanks of his gloves and tosses them on the coffee table, reaching for the remote as he sits.
“Leveled a building on him,” Bart says simply, following him, plopping onto the couch and putting his feet on the table. Wally wants to yell at him for it, but resists.
“He is dangerous. You shouldn’t have been out there.” Bart scowls. “How’d you know how to find us, anyway?” he asks, flipping on the television.
“Guess,” Bart said, gesturing. Wally leans forward as he flips through the channels, most of the ten o’clock news being aerial photos of the damage Blockbuster had caused in Bludhaven. Wally winces at those - the damage always looks worse from above, and he always feels responsible. “It was all over the news.”
“What did Jay say when you told him you were leaving?” Wally asks, wondering why Jay would let him rush off against such a dangerous villain. Bart shifts and looks down. “Bart. You did tell Jay, right?” Bart gives a noncommittal shrug. Wally sighs. “You can’t do that, Bart. One day you’re going to get hurt, and who’s going to be responsible for it?”
“Hey! I don’t need constant adult supervision! I can take care of myself just fine!”
“Oh, and you were taking real good care of yourself when Blockbuster almost turned you into streetpizza today.”
“I didn’t see you faring any better!” Bart says, standing to leave. Wally grabs his arm and yanks him back onto the couch.
“Listen, you have to start thinking about other people besides yourself.”
“I do think of other people! Why do you think I was out there today, trying to get Blockbuster off the street - to keep him from hurting people!”
Wally doesn’t bring up the fact that Bart most likely does the super-hero gig more for thrills and kicks than out of duty. Even he knows that’s not the thing to say here. So what he does say is, “I mean the people close to you. Not the faceless crowds you help. Do you know how Jay and Joan would feel if anything had happened? What about Iris? Imagine if I’d had to come there and tell her you were dead.” He pauses as the glare slides off Bart’s face, changing into a thoughtful look. “Imagine how I’d feel.”
Bart snorts. “At least you’d be rid of me.”
“Hey,” Wally protests. “Don’t say that.”
Bart looks down and runs his free hand through his hair. Wally realizes he’s still got Bart’s other arm in a death-grip. “I was seriously worried. You know that, right?”
Bart shrugs and looks him in the eye. “Were you?”
Wally wants to shove him off the couch and tell him to get out, for being such a brat. He decides, instead, to yank him forward into a hug. Bart’s arms hang out to the side before he tentatively puts them on Wally’s back, squeezing. “Ungrateful brat,” Wally can’t help but say with a smile against Bart’s hair. Bart stiffens, but then softens again, and Wally can feel Bart smile against his shoulder. He pulls back a little to face Bart, but keeps his hands on Bart’s sides. Bart’s hands have slid down to Wally’s hips, relaxed. Wally presses their foreheads together, and Bart’s yellow eyes widen, surprised.
“Hey. Your grandfather, Barry. He and I were very close. I looked up to him like I looked up to no one else. He was the father I wished I’d had. There are few occasions in my life where I’ve ever felt as close to someone as I did to him. My days as Kid Flash, fighting alongside him will always be my greatest memory.” Bart opens his mouth, but Wally continues, “I don’t think we’ll ever have that. I don’t think it could be that simple with you and me. But that doesn’t mean we have to be at each other’s throats constantly. Maybe we won’t be partners, but maybe we could try to be friends?”
Bart stares at him for a few minutes, his expression unreadable. “That was so incredibly corny. I think I’m gonna hurl,” he says, finally.
Wally smirks. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’,” and pulls him in again for another hug. It’s shallower this time, cheeks pressed close so Wally can feel Bart’s smile, and feel the soft brush of eyelashes as he closes his eyes. Wally closes his own eyes, thinking that this is a step. Iris would be proud to know Wally was finally bonding with her and Barry’s grandson. Bart was actually turning out a bit like Barry in a few ways, Wally noticed with surprise. For every way he was alike to Barry, though, Wally reasoned, there were about twenty ways they were dissimilar. But as he was maturing, he was even starting to look like Barry. Not completely like Barry, he knew. Having met Bart’s father, he could only figure the hair had to come from his mother. And the small chin and delicate jaw were Iris’s, he knew. But the cheekbones and strong forehead were Barry’s. Without thinking, he tilts his head up slightly, to press his lips to that cheek.
Truth be told, Wally had once had a thing for Barry. The truth had only been told to Dick, when they’d both been slightly tipsy, on the verge of drunk, back when they were Titans, and couldn’t handle their liquor yet. Dick had confided at the time he’d felt the same way about Bruce. He’d psychoanalyzed the both of them for Wally, explaining that it was perfectly natural to think you were physically attracted to a person who you’re in love with. And love, he’d said, when Wally had started to protest, just to make the effort, love, Dick had said, comes in many forms. Within their community, there’s only a small group of people who you could trust with the entirety of who you were. Dick had admitted that Wally didn’t even know all of him, and the only person who knew everything about him had been Bruce. Very likely, he’d pinpointed, that person for Wally would be Barry.
Plus they were risking their lives together everyday, and depending on each other to watch out for them. Those would raise some pretty strong bonds between any two people, regardless of gender, and especially in the formative stages of adolescence, it would be easy for a confused teenager to mistake that as romantic love, or even lust. After Dick had passed out, and the alcohol had been metabolized out of Wally’s system, he’d been able to think that over, and realize that’d probably where a lot of feelings had come from.
But he also knew, deep down, some of those feelings were just genuine feelings. It had worried him at the time - at the time, it hadn’t been even close to acceptable for guys to be attracted to guys. So he’d tried to compensate, maybe a little too much, he’d realized. Not that he doesn’t enjoy sleeping with women - he enjoys it quite a bit - it’s just that a lot of them have the habit of turning evil. He hadn’t actually felt anything for another man, ever. Even when he’d learned Hartley was gay, and Hartley, he could admit in a very masculine way, was a very attractive man, Wally hadn’t been at all interested in him. Hadn’t even given it a second thought. In fact, he’d pushed aside all memories of this.
Until now.
He can feel Bart’s body tense, eyelashes fluttering as his eyes go wide, as Wally moves his mouth along Bart’s cheek, kissing gently and slowly towards his lips. Bart gasps as their lips meet, and Wally takes that opportunity to lick into the boy’s mouth, tentative at first, unable to believe what he’s doing. But he’s quickly swept up by the sensation of it and the kiss becomes rougher, needier. The noise that Bart makes is muffled by Wally’s mouth. Bart tries pushing against Wally, but his hands are still at Wally’s hips, and it just makes Wally moan as he remembers the lower part of his body. He pushes back against Bart’s hands while increasing the intensity of his kiss until Bart’s moaning with every movement of his tongue.
They break apart with a wet noise after Bart brings his hands up to Wally’s shoulders and pushes roughly. “Wally, what are you …ah!” he gasps as Wally licks his neck in short, quick strokes, “Oh, yes, right there,” Bart pants as Wally licks above his collar bone. He’d pulled down his mask before they’d even sat down, and now Wally tugs at the neck, pulling it wide, thinking that if S.T.A.R. labs lost its position at the head of the super-hero supply industry, they could make a fortune as an intimate clothing manufacturer. Trying to get Bart out of his suit is thrillingly frustrating, Wally thinks. It doesn’t help that Bart seems to have stopped wondering what he’s doing, and is trying to pull Wally back in for another kiss, making high, whining noises and tugging at Wally’s shoulders.
“Hold still,” Wally gasps in frustration. Bart, of course, ignores him. Brat. He gives up trying to get it fully off Bart, and settles for stretching it enough that he can push his hand down the front, running his fingers lightly over the smooth muscle, brushing his knuckles against a nipple. He twists his hand and pinches it, causing Bart’s jaw to drop and a whimper to escape. With that, Bart seems to have gotten the idea, as he’s tugging the neck of his suit open, shucking it off his arms, and pushing it down to his waist before reaching for Wally again. Wally pushes him back just a bit, and stares. Bart’s flexing his hands - Wally just grabs his wrists and holds him still, transfixed by the smooth expanse of skin before him. Bart’s got a slighter build than Wally, and he doubts that will change as Bart matures. He’s got his grandfather’s shape - a runner’s physique.
“Wallyyyy…”
“Shh, don’t whine.” But Wally responds, moving his head forward to run his tongue down Bart’s sternum quickly before pulling back and staring again.
“I….” Bart lets out another wordless whine after that, arching his back slightly and closing his eyes. Wally glances down to see Bart’s hardness straining against his suit. He releases one of Bart’s hands, which reaches out, pulling painfully at Wally’s hair, bringing him closer, and their lips are millimeters apart before Bart lets out a noise of surprise, eyes flying open and mouth gaping. Wally rubs Bart’s dick again through the costume, and Bart’s eyes squeeze shut and he bites his lip, changing his trajectory, moving his head to rest it in the crook of Wally’s neck.
“Do you like that?” Wally asks teasingly. Bart doesn’t say anything, just presses up against his hand. The material of Bart’s suit is so thin, Wally can feel the seams of his briefs underneath. He contemplates getting Bart off like this, through two layers of fabric - he’s no doubt that Bart would be able to, if he recalls his days of adolescence correctly. He’s still a little embarrassed at how little physical stimulation it actually took back then, and the mortifying situations that were narrowly avoided. But on the upside, he’d never had problems getting the job done. Bart whimpers softly and presses up again.
“Wally,” he pants softly. Wally grins and turns his head slightly to nuzzle the side of Bart’s face, turning more to lick along Bart’s ear. Bart moans loudly and clutches at Wally’s shoulders. Wally removes his hand from Bart’s crotch - with a loud noise of protest from the boy - and reaches up to yank Bart’s hair, pulling him away from his neck. Wally adjusts his angle to lick at Bart’s neck, along his jaw, returning to mouth his ear, taking the lobe in his mouth and nipping gently. Bart whines again, high and plaintive. The skin under Wally’s lips is burning and salty from sweat. He grins - it takes a lot to make a speedster sweat. He brings both his hands to Bart’s chest, resting them on his pecs, pressing firmly. Bart whimpers and moves into the touch. Wally gently flicks his nipples with his thumbs, and Bart lets out a short gasp and begins babbling. “Please, please, Wally, I need…I don’t know what I need, butIneeditnownownow.” Bart moves his head back to Wally’s neck, planting hundreds of soft, fast kisses before tilting his face up enough to moan against Wally’s ear, “Your…your hand….oh, Wally….oh please.”
Wally lets out his own moan at that. Bart’s voice is rough and deep with arousal, and he sounds like….
Like….
Like Barry, Wally admits to himself, before pushing his hand down Bart’s suit and dipping into his briefs. Bart lets out a shuddering gasp and freezes, every muscle in his body drawing tight as a bowstring as Wally wraps his hand around his cock, which is already well-slicked with pre-come. Wally gives one slow, tight stroke. Bart doesn’t move. Wally squeezes the base of Bart’s cock tightly before bringing his fist up again quickly, and down again faster still. On the downstroke Bart loses control, letting out an almost painfully loud cry next to Wally’s ear. His hands fly to Wally’s head, holding him in place as his takes his ear into his mouth, nibbling the lobe roughly and running his tongue along the whorls, breathing in fast, moist, panting bursts in time to Wally’s strokes. Wally chuckles breathlessly at Bart’s clumsy efforts, and then moans loudly as Bart shoves his tongue into his ear, lips still working. Bart echoes him, moving his face to mouth at Wally’s jaw, the scratch of his teeth on stubble audible. Still moaning, he shifts his weight to move closer, straddling Wally’s lap and beginning to rock his hips quickly to Wally’s rhythm, gasping and snapping for breath, hands moving back down to Wally’s shoulders, fingers pressing hard enough to bruise. Bart lets out a high whine and there’s something intrinsically wrong with the squeaking noises that result from his sweat-soaked chest rubbing against Wally’s uniform, Wally knows, but he can’t really focus on that at the moment as, now that he’s straddling his lap, every movement Bart makes presses against Wally’s own erection. He bites his lip to keep his moans at a relatively low decibel level, but can’t resist lowering his hand to cup Bart’s ass through his costume, squeezing the firm muscle underneath. Bart’s cries are getting increasingly louder, and Wally’s never been happier he doesn’t have close neighbors. Still, he murmurs, “Quiet, Bart.” He nuzzles Bart’s neck. “Mmm, Bart,” he says, ducking his head to suck at Bart’s collarbone as he jacks his hand faster. Bart’s hands spasm against Wally’s shoulder and his entire body shudders as he comes with a choking cry. Wally moves his hand a few more times before pulling off completely, Bart’s body going limp against him, soft whimpers still escaping on every exhale.
Wally pulls his hand out of Bart’s underwear and costume, rubs it against his thigh to clean it. He winces as he remembers he’s still in uniform. He cringes harder as he remembers he’s still wearing Barry’s old uniform. Wally’s having problems wrapping his mind around the wrongness, so instead just makes a mental note to clean the suit before the next JLA meeting, and crooks a finger under Bart’s chin, titling his head up, so Wally can look in his eyes. Or, could, if they were open. They’re still squeezed shut, and Bart’s respirations are still fast and audible. “Hey, Bart, calm down. You act like you’ve never done this before.”
“Hu…haven’t,” Bart pants as his breathing slows.
Wally smirks. “Well, okay, I know, maybe not with someone. I
meant by yourself.”
Bart’s eyes open slightly - Wally can make out the thinnest line of yellow around his dilated pupils. “I know what you meant.”
Wally blinks. “You mean. You…never? Not…not once?” Bart shakes his head. Wally bites his lip. Again, he hadn’t been thinking about how inexperienced Bart truly was. He wonders briefly if he should just help Bart clean himself up and send him home, keeping this from getting out of hand - more than it already has - but Bart chooses that moment to shift his weight on Wally’s lap, and Wally's hips thrust slightly of their own accord. Bart’s eyes fly open, squeezing Wally’s shoulders slightly for balance.
“Oh,” he says with surprise, as though he truly hadn’t felt it with all that rocking. Wally thinks about apologizing for it, for all of it, but Bart moves his hips again, with a low moan. He pulls his face away from Wally’s hand and ducks forward to meet Wally’s mouth with his lips. There’s barely contact before he’s roughly shoving his tongue into Wally’s mouth, darting it around furiously against his teeth, the roof of his mouth, sliding against his tongue, and all the while, Bart’s letting out high, muffled whimpers. Wally wonders if this is how it feels like to be kissed by him, if it’s always this fast, this random, this hot.
Bart’s pulling at the neck of his costume now, licking every new bit of skin that’s exposed. “Hmm,” Bart hums against his collarbone, sending a tingling vibration through his body, “off, off,” he continues, tugging. Wally wants to help, he really does. His brain’s telling him that being unclothed would be really nice, and would facilitate what he more urgently is going to need to get done, but he can’t bring his arms up to get them fully out of the sleeves. Besides, he’s not really inclined to cause the frustrated humming to stop. He brings his free hand down to grasp at Bart’s hip, holding him in place as he thrusts up again. Bart rides him a little, gasping. “I wanna help,” he pants, moving more forcefully. Wally groans, leaning his head back, and they both jump as the phone rings.
“Ignore it,” Wally mumbles against Bart’s mouth. Thankfully, for once Bart listens to him, and he pulls at the arms of his costume. He’s trying to persuade Bart to lift off his lap enough for him to fully remove his suit when the machine clicks on.
“Son, it’s Jay.” Bart continues kissing him, whimpering at the divided attention Wally’s giving him. He’s cocked his head to listen to the message. “Bart tore out of here a little bit ago. He didn’t say where he was going, but I know you were involved in that unfortunate business in Bludhaven, and had thought he was just going there. But he hasn’t come back yet. I’m hoping he’s with you, and if you could give me a call back when you get this, or I might just run over now to check if he’s--”
Bart lets out a yelp and his back hits the coffee table as he falls to the floor. He’ll apologize later, Wally thinks, as he twists on the couch to grab the phone, “No need!” he pants into the phone, then spends the next few nanoseconds trying to get his breathing back to normal before continuing. “No need to stop by, Jay, he’s here with me. Yeah, he came out and lent a hand.” He bites his lip to keep quiet as said hand begins to creep up his calf, rubbing gently. Bart’s other hand is rubbing his own back. “I know, I know. I told him he should have told you where he was off to. I didn’t think you’d let him go. He probably didn’t either. Well, if he thought at all.”
Bart glares up at him, but both his hands are now working at Wally’s thighs, massaging them. “I thought,” he says absently.
Wally rolls his eyes and waves a hand dismissively, and rolls his eyes again as Bart rubs the palm of his hand over the bulge in his uniform. “Oh, fu - no, no, he’s not being a bother at all.” Bart groans as Wally runs his fingers through his hair. The admonitory hair-pull Wally gives for the moan has the reverse effect, causing Bart to gasp. “Um, training. Yeah, I’m trying to um. Teach him.” That’s sounds dirtier than he meant it, Bart’s grin tells him. “No! No, you really don’t have to come over to help. Really. It’s something Bart and I need to um…do alone. I’ll keep him occupied over here for a while, you and Joan should just celebrate a night off without him. Hah! I heard that!”
“What? What? What did he say?” Bart asks, rising and reaching out for the phone. Wally grimaces and pushes him down with one hand, back onto his knees. Bart tries to push himself up, bracing himself on Wally’s thighs, but Wally’s stronger.
“No, no. It’s no problem at all,” he continues. “Just call when you want him to come home. Yeah. No, just call.” Wally really hopes he’s not arousing suspicions, but really wants to avoid Jay running in to find Bart on his knees, fondling Wally’s crotch. “Alright, Jay. Talk to you later.” He presses the phone off, and double checks to make sure it’s off. And then triple checks. He puts his free hand in Bart’s hair, tugging gently. “Does the term ‘discreet’ mean anything to you?”
Bart’s eyes look up at the ceiling before he says, “‘Subtle and circumspect, ensuring that no undue attention is attracted’.”
Wally blinks. “Okay, now apply that knowledge by not moaning when I’m on the phone with Jay!” He tugs harder at Bart’s hair for good measure. Bart inhales sharply.
“Is it… okay now?” he gasps.
Wally blinks again, not quite sure how to answer that. He throws his head back and moans himself as Bart tries to wrap his hands around his cock through the uniform. He pulls his hands away from Bart’s shoulders and out of his hair to bat his hands away. Bart lets out a whimper, still staring at Wally’s crotch. His eyes widen as Wally hooks his thumbs underneath his suit and boxer-briefs, lifting his hips slightly to pull them down. Bart lets out a small whimper, staring at Wally’s dick, and brings his own hands up to push the suit around Wally’s ankles before returning them to his thighs, stroking the naked flesh softly, bringing his eyes up to look at Wally, the question in his eyes obvious. Wally brings his hand back up to Bart’s face, cupping his smooth jaw, stroking gently, before moving it to the back of the boy’s neck, leaning forward to whisper to him the words he’d always longed for Barry to say to him.
“Suck me, Kid Flash.”
Bart’s eyes are so wide it’s obtained a comical effect, and they dart between Wally’s eyes and his dick several times before he licks his lips, hesitantly closing the inches between them with agonizing slowness, eyes now firmly focused on Wally’s. Bart’s continuing to lick his lips, and it’s more from nervousness and uncertainty than anything else, Wally knows, but by the time they reach the head of his cock, they’re so wet he has to pull his hand away from Bart’s neck quickly to avoid just forcing himself down Bart’s throat.
“Wally?” Bart asks, pulling away from him quickly. Great, now he thinks he did something wrong. Wally quickly tangles his fingers in Bart’s hair again, tugging him forward.
“God, Bart, don’t…just…” and it’s clear he’s just confusing him more. “Just, keep going,” he rasps before pulling his hand out of Bart’s hair, resting it firmly on his knee. “Oh, yeah,” he hisses as Bart’s wet lips encircle the head. A low noise vibrates from Bart’s throat as he shifts his position between Wally’s legs, rising up higher on his knees and moving forward to take more of Wally into his mouth. His tongue begins moving slowly, gaining speed as he licks up the length of him, then circles the head several times. Wally groans and gasps, “Oh, god. Bart, suck.” He can’t keep his hands still as Bart does, eyes fluttering closed. Wally brings his hands up to Bart’s shoulders, controlling his movements. Bart lets out a little murmur, but yields, and Wally makes his thrusts as shallow as he can manage, not wanting to overwhelm Bart. Bart’s hands are flexing on his thighs, and the noises he’s making are gaining in volume.
Wally hisses as Bart pulls off him abruptly, dragging the back of his hand across his mouth before climbing onto the couch, straddling Wally again, bringing both hands to either side of Wally’s face, not so much kissing him so much as licking his face in approximately the region where his mouth is located in long, broad, wet strokes, panting, “Oh, Wally, sorry I just want… I can’t…I need…” and Wally can feel it pressing against his stomach. Ah, the urgency of youth. “Again?” Bart whimpers, once again rocking against him. Only this time there are fewer layers involved. Wally makes a conscious decision, putting his hands on Bart’s shoulders and pushing him off. Not necessarily roughly, but not as gently as he could have, and Bart has to catch himself with his hands to keep from ending up completely on his back.
“Wally?” he asks as Wally gets completely free of Bart’s splayed legs and bends down to grab his suit. Bart sits up completely, running his fingers through his hair nervously. “What is it? What did I do? What’s wrong?” Wally finishes yanking his suit completely off, kicking it to the side before twisting back around to push at Bart’s chest until he’s flat on his back.
“Don’t move. I’ll be right back.” Bart’s confusion is evident, but Wally zips to the bedroom and is back again before Bart can finish propping himself back up on his elbows. “I said not to move,” he scowls, climbing back onto the couch, kneeling between Bart’s spread legs. He reaches over to drop the bottle he’d grabbed from the bedroom on the table before reaching down to tug at the bottom on Bart’s suit, along with his underwear. Some quick maneuvering and they’re off, Wally tossing them onto the floor next to his.
Bart writhes beneath him, arching his back and squeezing his knees against either side of Wally’s chest. “Now, Wally? Please?” Wally grins down at him, reaching down to grab one of his hands, bringing it up to his mouth, kissing each of the fingertips before drawing two of them entirely into his mouth, sucking gently. Bart gasps, eyes going wide. Wally relaxes his tongue, running it broadly over the two fingers, then flexes it, moving it between the fingers, then over both again. Bart’s eyes roll closed, hand slowly moving down his chest. Wally catches it before it can move past his navel, bringing it above Bart’s head. He releases Bart’s hands, and the fingers slip from his mouth, running down his chin, streaking it with wetness before resting on his throat.
“No, keep those there,” Wally says, bringing Bart’s hand back up to his mouth and engulfing the fingers again. He holds them in place with his teeth as he leans over again to snatch the bottle off the table. Bart’s eyes open with the snap of the top, and he watches as Wally pours a copious amount of lubricant into the palm of his hand before snapping it closed and settling it on the cushions next to them. Wally slaps his dry hand through the lube quickly, but leaves most of it in his palm. He tilts that palm, causing some of the lube to run down his index and middle fingers. He runs the back of his hand along Bart’s inner thigh, getting a low moan in response. Sucking at his fingers causes the moan to increase in volume. He wraps his hand around the base of Bart’s dick, to distract him, before pressing into him with two slick fingers. Bart gasps, eyes going wide, and he tries to prop himself up on his elbow, mouth opening, before Wally gives a slow stroke and presses in further. With that, Bart falls back, panting, a flush spreading over his torso. He whimpers as Wally withdraws his fingers, tilting his palm to re-slick them, and mews when Wally slides them back in, moving them slowly. His mouth drops as Bart hooks his legs behind him, pulling himself further onto Wally’s fingers.
“Wally, Wally,” Bart’s repeating breathlessly, wriggling against his one hand, and trying to thrust into the other. He brings his fingers to his mouth and starts sucking at them, still muttering Wally’s name around them.
“Oh, fuck, Bart.” At his name, Bart’s eyes slip open, heavy-lidded and burning. They widen as Wally pulls his fingers out, slathers the remaining lube over his dick and grabs the back of Bart’s thigh, lifting his hips up slightly to get a better angle to push into him, starting to stroke Bart with his other hand.
“Ohhh…” Wally can see Bart bite his own fingers as he comes, and so he bites the ones in his mouth, still pushing into Bart slowly. Bart shudders and presses his heels against Wally’s back, forcing him further in.
“Bart, easy, oh, oh god, I don’t want to,” he gasps as Bart rolls his hips up further, arching his back off the couch completely, moaning. “…hurt…” Bart moans again, louder. “…Jesus.” Wally just stares at him for a few short moments, mesmerized at the lithe body underneath him writhing in pleasure. This is one side of Bart he never thought he’d see. Had even given any thought to the existence of. Bart settles back down, unmoving, watching Wally’s eyes travel over his body. He pulls his forgotten fingers out of Wally’s mouth and trails them across his cheek, then down to his neck, pressing gently, moving further still until his can squeeze Wally’s shoulder. Pull him gently.
“I want this,” he murmurs. Wally starts, and his eyes fly to Bart’s. “I want whatever you want me to want. Whatever…” he licks his lips, eyes losing focus.
“Bart, you don’t have to … you’re not doing this just so I’ll like you, are you?”
“You mean you won’t otherwise?”
“Oh, geez, I didn’t mean-”
“Shut up,” Bart gasps. “I’m joking. I just want you to. Oh grife, just….speed up the pace? Please?”
Wally blinks. “Bart. You know who you’re talking to, right?”
Bart mutters something Wally can’t quite hear, so he thrusts in further, and the moan is audible. He thrusts again quickly, and Bart arches.
“Yeessss…” he hisses. Wally brings his hands down to grab Bart’s hips, pulling him in time his thrusts. “Oh, yeah, faster…come on, Flash…oh,” and Bart’s mouth falls open, emitting wordless sounds as he comes again. Wally shudders and half-falls onto Bart as he orgasms, panting against Bart’s neck.
“Faster,” Bart’s still murmuring. “More…”
Figures. Although he’d been living here for half his life, the other half had been spent in virtual reality, and obviously, he’d be all about the instant gratification. Or, in this case, continuing gratification. “You’re lucky I am who I am,” Wally pants into Bart’s ear. Bart moans and clutches him tighter, and Wally just licks the side of his face, waiting for the refractory to end. He smears a hand up Bart’s chest, then to his mouth, impulsively licking his fingers. “Huh. And I was always yelling at you for eating sweets…”
Bart’s staring at him curiously, and Wally proffers his hand. Keeping his eyes on Wally, he licks out quickly. He blinks then grabs Wally’s hand in his own, cleaning it thoroughly with his tongue. Wally just stares. Then gasps as Bart moans and pulls him into a thrust. Refractory over, he thinks, grabbing onto Bart’s shoulders and riding him as gently as he can. And slowly.
“No, no, fast,” Bart murmurs against his neck. Wally quickens up the pace slightly, and Bart’s still crying out for speed. And Wally realizes he’s never been able to really cut loose and lose control during sex, for fear of hurting his partner. He’s just realizing that Bart…Bart can take whatever he can give, as fast as he can give it. He doesn’t have to keep a short leash on the pace. He hadn’t understood what Bart had been saying before, but he does now. He kisses Bart’s sweaty forehead gently, and it’s the last gentle thing he does.
Wally pours himself a glass of water and sits on the couch. Bart’s sprawled on the floor, asleep. Some time before, Wally had put a blanket over him, and it’s easier on his conscience to not have to see the bitten and bruised body, covered in dried semen. Bart’s face is mostly normal, his lips aren’t as swollen as before, and his expression is unreadable in sleep. Wally checks the clock, then nudges Bart with his foot. Bart murmurs, clutching the blanket, and curling in on himself. Wally sighs and nudges him again. “Come on. Jay’s going to be expecting you.”
Bart sighs, opening his eyes and sitting up. He winces. It makes Wally wince. “Call Jay... Staying over…” he mutters sleepily.
Wally rolls his shoulders nervously. “Jay. He’ll suspect something.”
“Like what?” Bart murmurs. “Besides, it’s not like you never stayed over Grandpa’s when you were younger, right? And it’s not like-” Bart’s eyes focus on Wally’s face “-you were!”
“No!”
“You totally were! Oh, fuck!”
“Bart! Where’d you learn that word?”
“ ‘Oh fuck, Bart, I’m going to fuck you into the fucking floor, fuck,’” Bart growls in imitation of Wally.
“Oh. Right.”
“And don’t change the subject!”
“Listen, I’m not. Barry and I - this kinda thing never happened. I swear.”
Bart looks at him skeptically, but seeing Wally’s earnest expression, it changes. “But you wanted it to.”
“No! Maybe. Maybe a little.” Wally can’t look him in the eye for that. Now two people know.
He stares at Bart’s hand instead, which is stroking up his leg. “Were, were you thinking of him? When we…?”
“No.” It’s partially the truth. But it’s also partially a lie. Wally can’t read if Bart believes him
“Well, the truth of the matter is,” Bart said, hauling himself to his feet, using Wally’s thighs for balance, “I can’t walk, never mind fucking run.” The blanket falls to the floor and Wally marvels at the body which, marred by bruises, teeth marks, and rugburn, is still incredibly hot.
“I could carry you,” he says, not really meaning it. He reaches out to gently stroke the indents around Bart’s abdominal muscles.
“The hell.” Bart’s fingers twine in his hair, petting softly for a moment before roughly twisting and yanking him off the couch, onto his knees. The glass falls from his hands and lands with a thud on the carpet. “Your turn…” Bart says, looking down at Wally on his knees. Wally’s hands find Bart’s legs and run up the back, making the boy shudder. “…Kid Flash.”
Wally blinks. “I’ll call Jay.”
Rating: NC-17, I guess.
Pairing: ... Wally/Bart
Summary: Wally has some old issues. Bart’s not helping.
Note: They aren’t, technically, related. Also? Was written right before Nightwing 93. Damn you, Grayson.
Wally grunts as he hits the pavement, seemingly all the air being knocked out of his lungs at once. He sits up and rubs his head. For all his bulk, Blockbuster was quick enough to catch Wally while he was distracted. Wally looks over to see why he had been distracted. Dick’s still lying in a heap, a dented pipe by his head, but he’s moaning softly. At least he’s alive, Wally thinks. He flies back a few feet as Blockbuster takes advantage of his distracted state again. He has to stop that, he thinks. Getting distracted. As he sits up again, and focuses, he realizes Blockbuster isn’t coming after him. He was just in the way of the real target. Wally lurches to his feet, head still spinning, and starts towards Dick. Before he’s taken even one step, he’s distracted by a voice behind him.
“You can’t even take down this ugly? I was kicking his butt when I was only two.” There’s a blur of red costume and brown hair as Bart zooms past him and grabs up the pipe lying next to Dick, causing Blockbuster to stop short in surprise.
“You!” the Behemoth bellows, reaching towards Bart.
“Me,” the boy says with a smirk, connecting the pipe to the enormous skull.
“Bug! Do you really think you could hurt me?” Wally opens his mouth to shout a warning, but Bart’s already dodged the blow aimed for his upper-body.
“I think I did a pretty good job last time.” Another crack from the pipe.
“Presumptuous brat. I escaped without a scratch, unlike, I recall, you.” With those words, Blockbuster yanks the pipe away deftly, and Wally winces at the crack he knows must be at least one of Bart’s ribs as the boy goes flying several yards before landing with an audible thud on the pavement. Blockbuster moves towards the still body. Wally hopes he’s still alive. If he’s dead, somehow Wally would get blamed for it, he just knows it. Even though Bart hadn’t been invited in the first place. Wally rushes towards the giant.
“A double boon. I get to eradicate at least two of my foes who have caused me pain.” So saying, Blockbuster brings his hand back to deliver the killing blow. Head still clouded from the earlier hits, Wally doesn’t think he can make in it time.
“Get up, you idiot,” he hisses under his breath. He sees Bart stir a little, but no more. “I can’t explain this to Iris, get up! Move!” The last word is also to himself, he’s trying to make his legs move faster, but it’s not enough.
Blockbuster lets out a roar which is quickly muffled by the cloth wrapped around his head. Unnoticed, Dick had obtained an awning, and now had that around Blockbuster. His feet braced against the giant’s back, Dick tugs harder, pulling it tight around his neck, ducking and shifting his weight to avoid the giant hands clawing behind for him. Wally wants to lend a hand, but can’t see what he can do that wouldn’t cost Dick his advantage. “Move it, slow,” he hears Bart. The pipe’s back in his hand, and he’s aiming for Blockbuster’s head. One solid crack, eliciting another roar, and Bart brings his arm back for another swipe, but Wally grabs the back of his costume.
“Hey! Leggo! In case you haven’t noticed, I’m trying to help, here!”
“If you’re definition of ‘help’ is ‘accidental hit Nightwing’, then yeah, I’ve noticed.” And true, Bart hadn’t been that close to hitting Dick, but at this point, with Blockbuster’s yells muffled and his body slowly dropping to the pavement, Wally didn’t want to take a chance. He keeps his hand on Bart’s small shoulder to stay him while Nightwing finishes up. He clutches the awning until there’s no more noise from Blockbuster, and his hands, curled up into fists, relax and open. And keeps pulling. Wally sees the look on his face, the snarl of rage, and his jaw drops. A second later, he’s on top of Nightwing, wrestling him to the ground. “Stop it, Dick! It’s over.” Dick’s still glaring. “It’s over. He’s not going to hurt anyone else.” Dick glances over at the prone figure, and his jaw relaxes. He sits up, pushing Wally aside. A hand scrubs back through his hair.
“Thanks. For helping me with him.” Wally opens his mouth to ask if he’s alright, but thinks better of it and closes his mouth. He just claps a hand on Dick’s shoulder, and pulls them both to their feet. He squeezes just a bit, knowing the hell he’s been through in the last couple of weeks.
“Do you want me to stay and help clean up?”
“No,” Dick says, turning his head slightly, but not meeting
Wally’s eyes. “I’ll take care of it.”
Wally opens his mouth again.
“I’ll call the police.” He turns and rests his hand on Wally’s shoulder, squeezing back. They share a moment of loss. The loss for each being different, but cutting just as deep.
The moment is broken by the sound of large feet scuffing on the pavement. Wally rolls his eyes and drops his hand, sighing.
“Come on Bart. Time to get you home.” He meets Bart’s eyes, and can see Bart knows something’s going on, but not what it is. He softens his glare before he turns, heading towards Keystone. Sometimes it’s easy to forget Bart’s only….he’s not sure anymore. Three? Four? He’s terrible with keeping track of time. Plus he’s seen Bart’s physical aging occur so rapidly when he first got here. Physically he has to be about sixteen or seventeen, and Wally has to admit the boy’s been through a lot, has seen more trauma and death in just a few years of doing this than Wally had seen in the same time. Sometimes he thinks Bart is older than he really is, and it makes him act a bit harsher towards him than he should. He should really stop that.
“So are you usually that slow in the field, or was this a special occasion?”
He doesn’t have much incentive to stop soon, though. “Watch it. I’m not making comments on your stellar ‘hit-repeatedly with a drainpipe before even getting everyone to safety’ tactic, am I?”
“Not yet.”
Wally grits his teeth and lets the comment slide. “You’ve come up against Blockbuster before?” he says, by way of conversation.
“Yeah, a while back. When Max and I first moved to…”
Wally glances over his shoulder at Bart as the boy’s voice trails off, looking down. Then he bites his lip and lifts his head, glaring ahead. Wally looks away. Bart hasn’t talked about Max much. Wally can understand, a bit. When Barry died, he can’t say he enjoyed talking about him. He couldn’t actually do it, not without lashing out. He has to admit for an emotionally deprived youth, Bart was handling the loss of his mentor rather well. And, at least Wally had his own parents still with him, as poor excuses they were. Bart didn’t really have anyone, having been passed around continuously from his arrival. There’s a twinge of guilt which goes off in his chest as he realizes he’s partly to blame. Iris had handed Bart to him to train, and the first moment he could, he’d handed him off to Max. Then, when Max had disappeared, even though Bart was content to stay with Max’s daughter, who’d they’d been living with for some time, Wally had convinced everyone Bart belonged with a speedster, and had shuffled him to Jay. He still agrees with those decisions, and stands by them. But looking back, maybe he could have helped to make the transitions a little smoother.
“We’ll find him, Bart. We all miss him. We’ll get him back.” Wally doesn’t glance over his shoulder for Bart’s reaction.
The rest of the run is silent. Bart follows Wally to his house, and Wally’s conflicted. Since Linda’s left, the house has been eerily quiet. But at the same time, there’s only so much of Bart he can take. Especially when they’re alone. At least Linda had been able to distract him. She’d thought he was cute, she’d said she could get an idea of what Wally was like when he was a kid by watching Bart. Wally’d openly resented it, but didn’t tell her it had endeared her to him more. If that had even been possible. Linda had been…
He pushes his mask back as he walks to the fridge to grab a beer. He hears Bart’s footsteps behind him, and tosses him a soda without even asking. It might be nice to have some company for a change. He’ll just kick Bart out when he gets too annoying.
“So. How’d you take out Blockbuster the first time?” Wally asks into the awkward silence as he makes his way to the sofa. He yanks of his gloves and tosses them on the coffee table, reaching for the remote as he sits.
“Leveled a building on him,” Bart says simply, following him, plopping onto the couch and putting his feet on the table. Wally wants to yell at him for it, but resists.
“He is dangerous. You shouldn’t have been out there.” Bart scowls. “How’d you know how to find us, anyway?” he asks, flipping on the television.
“Guess,” Bart said, gesturing. Wally leans forward as he flips through the channels, most of the ten o’clock news being aerial photos of the damage Blockbuster had caused in Bludhaven. Wally winces at those - the damage always looks worse from above, and he always feels responsible. “It was all over the news.”
“What did Jay say when you told him you were leaving?” Wally asks, wondering why Jay would let him rush off against such a dangerous villain. Bart shifts and looks down. “Bart. You did tell Jay, right?” Bart gives a noncommittal shrug. Wally sighs. “You can’t do that, Bart. One day you’re going to get hurt, and who’s going to be responsible for it?”
“Hey! I don’t need constant adult supervision! I can take care of myself just fine!”
“Oh, and you were taking real good care of yourself when Blockbuster almost turned you into streetpizza today.”
“I didn’t see you faring any better!” Bart says, standing to leave. Wally grabs his arm and yanks him back onto the couch.
“Listen, you have to start thinking about other people besides yourself.”
“I do think of other people! Why do you think I was out there today, trying to get Blockbuster off the street - to keep him from hurting people!”
Wally doesn’t bring up the fact that Bart most likely does the super-hero gig more for thrills and kicks than out of duty. Even he knows that’s not the thing to say here. So what he does say is, “I mean the people close to you. Not the faceless crowds you help. Do you know how Jay and Joan would feel if anything had happened? What about Iris? Imagine if I’d had to come there and tell her you were dead.” He pauses as the glare slides off Bart’s face, changing into a thoughtful look. “Imagine how I’d feel.”
Bart snorts. “At least you’d be rid of me.”
“Hey,” Wally protests. “Don’t say that.”
Bart looks down and runs his free hand through his hair. Wally realizes he’s still got Bart’s other arm in a death-grip. “I was seriously worried. You know that, right?”
Bart shrugs and looks him in the eye. “Were you?”
Wally wants to shove him off the couch and tell him to get out, for being such a brat. He decides, instead, to yank him forward into a hug. Bart’s arms hang out to the side before he tentatively puts them on Wally’s back, squeezing. “Ungrateful brat,” Wally can’t help but say with a smile against Bart’s hair. Bart stiffens, but then softens again, and Wally can feel Bart smile against his shoulder. He pulls back a little to face Bart, but keeps his hands on Bart’s sides. Bart’s hands have slid down to Wally’s hips, relaxed. Wally presses their foreheads together, and Bart’s yellow eyes widen, surprised.
“Hey. Your grandfather, Barry. He and I were very close. I looked up to him like I looked up to no one else. He was the father I wished I’d had. There are few occasions in my life where I’ve ever felt as close to someone as I did to him. My days as Kid Flash, fighting alongside him will always be my greatest memory.” Bart opens his mouth, but Wally continues, “I don’t think we’ll ever have that. I don’t think it could be that simple with you and me. But that doesn’t mean we have to be at each other’s throats constantly. Maybe we won’t be partners, but maybe we could try to be friends?”
Bart stares at him for a few minutes, his expression unreadable. “That was so incredibly corny. I think I’m gonna hurl,” he says, finally.
Wally smirks. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’,” and pulls him in again for another hug. It’s shallower this time, cheeks pressed close so Wally can feel Bart’s smile, and feel the soft brush of eyelashes as he closes his eyes. Wally closes his own eyes, thinking that this is a step. Iris would be proud to know Wally was finally bonding with her and Barry’s grandson. Bart was actually turning out a bit like Barry in a few ways, Wally noticed with surprise. For every way he was alike to Barry, though, Wally reasoned, there were about twenty ways they were dissimilar. But as he was maturing, he was even starting to look like Barry. Not completely like Barry, he knew. Having met Bart’s father, he could only figure the hair had to come from his mother. And the small chin and delicate jaw were Iris’s, he knew. But the cheekbones and strong forehead were Barry’s. Without thinking, he tilts his head up slightly, to press his lips to that cheek.
Truth be told, Wally had once had a thing for Barry. The truth had only been told to Dick, when they’d both been slightly tipsy, on the verge of drunk, back when they were Titans, and couldn’t handle their liquor yet. Dick had confided at the time he’d felt the same way about Bruce. He’d psychoanalyzed the both of them for Wally, explaining that it was perfectly natural to think you were physically attracted to a person who you’re in love with. And love, he’d said, when Wally had started to protest, just to make the effort, love, Dick had said, comes in many forms. Within their community, there’s only a small group of people who you could trust with the entirety of who you were. Dick had admitted that Wally didn’t even know all of him, and the only person who knew everything about him had been Bruce. Very likely, he’d pinpointed, that person for Wally would be Barry.
Plus they were risking their lives together everyday, and depending on each other to watch out for them. Those would raise some pretty strong bonds between any two people, regardless of gender, and especially in the formative stages of adolescence, it would be easy for a confused teenager to mistake that as romantic love, or even lust. After Dick had passed out, and the alcohol had been metabolized out of Wally’s system, he’d been able to think that over, and realize that’d probably where a lot of feelings had come from.
But he also knew, deep down, some of those feelings were just genuine feelings. It had worried him at the time - at the time, it hadn’t been even close to acceptable for guys to be attracted to guys. So he’d tried to compensate, maybe a little too much, he’d realized. Not that he doesn’t enjoy sleeping with women - he enjoys it quite a bit - it’s just that a lot of them have the habit of turning evil. He hadn’t actually felt anything for another man, ever. Even when he’d learned Hartley was gay, and Hartley, he could admit in a very masculine way, was a very attractive man, Wally hadn’t been at all interested in him. Hadn’t even given it a second thought. In fact, he’d pushed aside all memories of this.
Until now.
He can feel Bart’s body tense, eyelashes fluttering as his eyes go wide, as Wally moves his mouth along Bart’s cheek, kissing gently and slowly towards his lips. Bart gasps as their lips meet, and Wally takes that opportunity to lick into the boy’s mouth, tentative at first, unable to believe what he’s doing. But he’s quickly swept up by the sensation of it and the kiss becomes rougher, needier. The noise that Bart makes is muffled by Wally’s mouth. Bart tries pushing against Wally, but his hands are still at Wally’s hips, and it just makes Wally moan as he remembers the lower part of his body. He pushes back against Bart’s hands while increasing the intensity of his kiss until Bart’s moaning with every movement of his tongue.
They break apart with a wet noise after Bart brings his hands up to Wally’s shoulders and pushes roughly. “Wally, what are you …ah!” he gasps as Wally licks his neck in short, quick strokes, “Oh, yes, right there,” Bart pants as Wally licks above his collar bone. He’d pulled down his mask before they’d even sat down, and now Wally tugs at the neck, pulling it wide, thinking that if S.T.A.R. labs lost its position at the head of the super-hero supply industry, they could make a fortune as an intimate clothing manufacturer. Trying to get Bart out of his suit is thrillingly frustrating, Wally thinks. It doesn’t help that Bart seems to have stopped wondering what he’s doing, and is trying to pull Wally back in for another kiss, making high, whining noises and tugging at Wally’s shoulders.
“Hold still,” Wally gasps in frustration. Bart, of course, ignores him. Brat. He gives up trying to get it fully off Bart, and settles for stretching it enough that he can push his hand down the front, running his fingers lightly over the smooth muscle, brushing his knuckles against a nipple. He twists his hand and pinches it, causing Bart’s jaw to drop and a whimper to escape. With that, Bart seems to have gotten the idea, as he’s tugging the neck of his suit open, shucking it off his arms, and pushing it down to his waist before reaching for Wally again. Wally pushes him back just a bit, and stares. Bart’s flexing his hands - Wally just grabs his wrists and holds him still, transfixed by the smooth expanse of skin before him. Bart’s got a slighter build than Wally, and he doubts that will change as Bart matures. He’s got his grandfather’s shape - a runner’s physique.
“Wallyyyy…”
“Shh, don’t whine.” But Wally responds, moving his head forward to run his tongue down Bart’s sternum quickly before pulling back and staring again.
“I….” Bart lets out another wordless whine after that, arching his back slightly and closing his eyes. Wally glances down to see Bart’s hardness straining against his suit. He releases one of Bart’s hands, which reaches out, pulling painfully at Wally’s hair, bringing him closer, and their lips are millimeters apart before Bart lets out a noise of surprise, eyes flying open and mouth gaping. Wally rubs Bart’s dick again through the costume, and Bart’s eyes squeeze shut and he bites his lip, changing his trajectory, moving his head to rest it in the crook of Wally’s neck.
“Do you like that?” Wally asks teasingly. Bart doesn’t say anything, just presses up against his hand. The material of Bart’s suit is so thin, Wally can feel the seams of his briefs underneath. He contemplates getting Bart off like this, through two layers of fabric - he’s no doubt that Bart would be able to, if he recalls his days of adolescence correctly. He’s still a little embarrassed at how little physical stimulation it actually took back then, and the mortifying situations that were narrowly avoided. But on the upside, he’d never had problems getting the job done. Bart whimpers softly and presses up again.
“Wally,” he pants softly. Wally grins and turns his head slightly to nuzzle the side of Bart’s face, turning more to lick along Bart’s ear. Bart moans loudly and clutches at Wally’s shoulders. Wally removes his hand from Bart’s crotch - with a loud noise of protest from the boy - and reaches up to yank Bart’s hair, pulling him away from his neck. Wally adjusts his angle to lick at Bart’s neck, along his jaw, returning to mouth his ear, taking the lobe in his mouth and nipping gently. Bart whines again, high and plaintive. The skin under Wally’s lips is burning and salty from sweat. He grins - it takes a lot to make a speedster sweat. He brings both his hands to Bart’s chest, resting them on his pecs, pressing firmly. Bart whimpers and moves into the touch. Wally gently flicks his nipples with his thumbs, and Bart lets out a short gasp and begins babbling. “Please, please, Wally, I need…I don’t know what I need, butIneeditnownownow.” Bart moves his head back to Wally’s neck, planting hundreds of soft, fast kisses before tilting his face up enough to moan against Wally’s ear, “Your…your hand….oh, Wally….oh please.”
Wally lets out his own moan at that. Bart’s voice is rough and deep with arousal, and he sounds like….
Like….
Like Barry, Wally admits to himself, before pushing his hand down Bart’s suit and dipping into his briefs. Bart lets out a shuddering gasp and freezes, every muscle in his body drawing tight as a bowstring as Wally wraps his hand around his cock, which is already well-slicked with pre-come. Wally gives one slow, tight stroke. Bart doesn’t move. Wally squeezes the base of Bart’s cock tightly before bringing his fist up again quickly, and down again faster still. On the downstroke Bart loses control, letting out an almost painfully loud cry next to Wally’s ear. His hands fly to Wally’s head, holding him in place as his takes his ear into his mouth, nibbling the lobe roughly and running his tongue along the whorls, breathing in fast, moist, panting bursts in time to Wally’s strokes. Wally chuckles breathlessly at Bart’s clumsy efforts, and then moans loudly as Bart shoves his tongue into his ear, lips still working. Bart echoes him, moving his face to mouth at Wally’s jaw, the scratch of his teeth on stubble audible. Still moaning, he shifts his weight to move closer, straddling Wally’s lap and beginning to rock his hips quickly to Wally’s rhythm, gasping and snapping for breath, hands moving back down to Wally’s shoulders, fingers pressing hard enough to bruise. Bart lets out a high whine and there’s something intrinsically wrong with the squeaking noises that result from his sweat-soaked chest rubbing against Wally’s uniform, Wally knows, but he can’t really focus on that at the moment as, now that he’s straddling his lap, every movement Bart makes presses against Wally’s own erection. He bites his lip to keep his moans at a relatively low decibel level, but can’t resist lowering his hand to cup Bart’s ass through his costume, squeezing the firm muscle underneath. Bart’s cries are getting increasingly louder, and Wally’s never been happier he doesn’t have close neighbors. Still, he murmurs, “Quiet, Bart.” He nuzzles Bart’s neck. “Mmm, Bart,” he says, ducking his head to suck at Bart’s collarbone as he jacks his hand faster. Bart’s hands spasm against Wally’s shoulder and his entire body shudders as he comes with a choking cry. Wally moves his hand a few more times before pulling off completely, Bart’s body going limp against him, soft whimpers still escaping on every exhale.
Wally pulls his hand out of Bart’s underwear and costume, rubs it against his thigh to clean it. He winces as he remembers he’s still in uniform. He cringes harder as he remembers he’s still wearing Barry’s old uniform. Wally’s having problems wrapping his mind around the wrongness, so instead just makes a mental note to clean the suit before the next JLA meeting, and crooks a finger under Bart’s chin, titling his head up, so Wally can look in his eyes. Or, could, if they were open. They’re still squeezed shut, and Bart’s respirations are still fast and audible. “Hey, Bart, calm down. You act like you’ve never done this before.”
“Hu…haven’t,” Bart pants as his breathing slows.
Wally smirks. “Well, okay, I know, maybe not with someone. I
meant by yourself.”
Bart’s eyes open slightly - Wally can make out the thinnest line of yellow around his dilated pupils. “I know what you meant.”
Wally blinks. “You mean. You…never? Not…not once?” Bart shakes his head. Wally bites his lip. Again, he hadn’t been thinking about how inexperienced Bart truly was. He wonders briefly if he should just help Bart clean himself up and send him home, keeping this from getting out of hand - more than it already has - but Bart chooses that moment to shift his weight on Wally’s lap, and Wally's hips thrust slightly of their own accord. Bart’s eyes fly open, squeezing Wally’s shoulders slightly for balance.
“Oh,” he says with surprise, as though he truly hadn’t felt it with all that rocking. Wally thinks about apologizing for it, for all of it, but Bart moves his hips again, with a low moan. He pulls his face away from Wally’s hand and ducks forward to meet Wally’s mouth with his lips. There’s barely contact before he’s roughly shoving his tongue into Wally’s mouth, darting it around furiously against his teeth, the roof of his mouth, sliding against his tongue, and all the while, Bart’s letting out high, muffled whimpers. Wally wonders if this is how it feels like to be kissed by him, if it’s always this fast, this random, this hot.
Bart’s pulling at the neck of his costume now, licking every new bit of skin that’s exposed. “Hmm,” Bart hums against his collarbone, sending a tingling vibration through his body, “off, off,” he continues, tugging. Wally wants to help, he really does. His brain’s telling him that being unclothed would be really nice, and would facilitate what he more urgently is going to need to get done, but he can’t bring his arms up to get them fully out of the sleeves. Besides, he’s not really inclined to cause the frustrated humming to stop. He brings his free hand down to grasp at Bart’s hip, holding him in place as he thrusts up again. Bart rides him a little, gasping. “I wanna help,” he pants, moving more forcefully. Wally groans, leaning his head back, and they both jump as the phone rings.
“Ignore it,” Wally mumbles against Bart’s mouth. Thankfully, for once Bart listens to him, and he pulls at the arms of his costume. He’s trying to persuade Bart to lift off his lap enough for him to fully remove his suit when the machine clicks on.
“Son, it’s Jay.” Bart continues kissing him, whimpering at the divided attention Wally’s giving him. He’s cocked his head to listen to the message. “Bart tore out of here a little bit ago. He didn’t say where he was going, but I know you were involved in that unfortunate business in Bludhaven, and had thought he was just going there. But he hasn’t come back yet. I’m hoping he’s with you, and if you could give me a call back when you get this, or I might just run over now to check if he’s--”
Bart lets out a yelp and his back hits the coffee table as he falls to the floor. He’ll apologize later, Wally thinks, as he twists on the couch to grab the phone, “No need!” he pants into the phone, then spends the next few nanoseconds trying to get his breathing back to normal before continuing. “No need to stop by, Jay, he’s here with me. Yeah, he came out and lent a hand.” He bites his lip to keep quiet as said hand begins to creep up his calf, rubbing gently. Bart’s other hand is rubbing his own back. “I know, I know. I told him he should have told you where he was off to. I didn’t think you’d let him go. He probably didn’t either. Well, if he thought at all.”
Bart glares up at him, but both his hands are now working at Wally’s thighs, massaging them. “I thought,” he says absently.
Wally rolls his eyes and waves a hand dismissively, and rolls his eyes again as Bart rubs the palm of his hand over the bulge in his uniform. “Oh, fu - no, no, he’s not being a bother at all.” Bart groans as Wally runs his fingers through his hair. The admonitory hair-pull Wally gives for the moan has the reverse effect, causing Bart to gasp. “Um, training. Yeah, I’m trying to um. Teach him.” That’s sounds dirtier than he meant it, Bart’s grin tells him. “No! No, you really don’t have to come over to help. Really. It’s something Bart and I need to um…do alone. I’ll keep him occupied over here for a while, you and Joan should just celebrate a night off without him. Hah! I heard that!”
“What? What? What did he say?” Bart asks, rising and reaching out for the phone. Wally grimaces and pushes him down with one hand, back onto his knees. Bart tries to push himself up, bracing himself on Wally’s thighs, but Wally’s stronger.
“No, no. It’s no problem at all,” he continues. “Just call when you want him to come home. Yeah. No, just call.” Wally really hopes he’s not arousing suspicions, but really wants to avoid Jay running in to find Bart on his knees, fondling Wally’s crotch. “Alright, Jay. Talk to you later.” He presses the phone off, and double checks to make sure it’s off. And then triple checks. He puts his free hand in Bart’s hair, tugging gently. “Does the term ‘discreet’ mean anything to you?”
Bart’s eyes look up at the ceiling before he says, “‘Subtle and circumspect, ensuring that no undue attention is attracted’.”
Wally blinks. “Okay, now apply that knowledge by not moaning when I’m on the phone with Jay!” He tugs harder at Bart’s hair for good measure. Bart inhales sharply.
“Is it… okay now?” he gasps.
Wally blinks again, not quite sure how to answer that. He throws his head back and moans himself as Bart tries to wrap his hands around his cock through the uniform. He pulls his hands away from Bart’s shoulders and out of his hair to bat his hands away. Bart lets out a whimper, still staring at Wally’s crotch. His eyes widen as Wally hooks his thumbs underneath his suit and boxer-briefs, lifting his hips slightly to pull them down. Bart lets out a small whimper, staring at Wally’s dick, and brings his own hands up to push the suit around Wally’s ankles before returning them to his thighs, stroking the naked flesh softly, bringing his eyes up to look at Wally, the question in his eyes obvious. Wally brings his hand back up to Bart’s face, cupping his smooth jaw, stroking gently, before moving it to the back of the boy’s neck, leaning forward to whisper to him the words he’d always longed for Barry to say to him.
“Suck me, Kid Flash.”
Bart’s eyes are so wide it’s obtained a comical effect, and they dart between Wally’s eyes and his dick several times before he licks his lips, hesitantly closing the inches between them with agonizing slowness, eyes now firmly focused on Wally’s. Bart’s continuing to lick his lips, and it’s more from nervousness and uncertainty than anything else, Wally knows, but by the time they reach the head of his cock, they’re so wet he has to pull his hand away from Bart’s neck quickly to avoid just forcing himself down Bart’s throat.
“Wally?” Bart asks, pulling away from him quickly. Great, now he thinks he did something wrong. Wally quickly tangles his fingers in Bart’s hair again, tugging him forward.
“God, Bart, don’t…just…” and it’s clear he’s just confusing him more. “Just, keep going,” he rasps before pulling his hand out of Bart’s hair, resting it firmly on his knee. “Oh, yeah,” he hisses as Bart’s wet lips encircle the head. A low noise vibrates from Bart’s throat as he shifts his position between Wally’s legs, rising up higher on his knees and moving forward to take more of Wally into his mouth. His tongue begins moving slowly, gaining speed as he licks up the length of him, then circles the head several times. Wally groans and gasps, “Oh, god. Bart, suck.” He can’t keep his hands still as Bart does, eyes fluttering closed. Wally brings his hands up to Bart’s shoulders, controlling his movements. Bart lets out a little murmur, but yields, and Wally makes his thrusts as shallow as he can manage, not wanting to overwhelm Bart. Bart’s hands are flexing on his thighs, and the noises he’s making are gaining in volume.
Wally hisses as Bart pulls off him abruptly, dragging the back of his hand across his mouth before climbing onto the couch, straddling Wally again, bringing both hands to either side of Wally’s face, not so much kissing him so much as licking his face in approximately the region where his mouth is located in long, broad, wet strokes, panting, “Oh, Wally, sorry I just want… I can’t…I need…” and Wally can feel it pressing against his stomach. Ah, the urgency of youth. “Again?” Bart whimpers, once again rocking against him. Only this time there are fewer layers involved. Wally makes a conscious decision, putting his hands on Bart’s shoulders and pushing him off. Not necessarily roughly, but not as gently as he could have, and Bart has to catch himself with his hands to keep from ending up completely on his back.
“Wally?” he asks as Wally gets completely free of Bart’s splayed legs and bends down to grab his suit. Bart sits up completely, running his fingers through his hair nervously. “What is it? What did I do? What’s wrong?” Wally finishes yanking his suit completely off, kicking it to the side before twisting back around to push at Bart’s chest until he’s flat on his back.
“Don’t move. I’ll be right back.” Bart’s confusion is evident, but Wally zips to the bedroom and is back again before Bart can finish propping himself back up on his elbows. “I said not to move,” he scowls, climbing back onto the couch, kneeling between Bart’s spread legs. He reaches over to drop the bottle he’d grabbed from the bedroom on the table before reaching down to tug at the bottom on Bart’s suit, along with his underwear. Some quick maneuvering and they’re off, Wally tossing them onto the floor next to his.
Bart writhes beneath him, arching his back and squeezing his knees against either side of Wally’s chest. “Now, Wally? Please?” Wally grins down at him, reaching down to grab one of his hands, bringing it up to his mouth, kissing each of the fingertips before drawing two of them entirely into his mouth, sucking gently. Bart gasps, eyes going wide. Wally relaxes his tongue, running it broadly over the two fingers, then flexes it, moving it between the fingers, then over both again. Bart’s eyes roll closed, hand slowly moving down his chest. Wally catches it before it can move past his navel, bringing it above Bart’s head. He releases Bart’s hands, and the fingers slip from his mouth, running down his chin, streaking it with wetness before resting on his throat.
“No, keep those there,” Wally says, bringing Bart’s hand back up to his mouth and engulfing the fingers again. He holds them in place with his teeth as he leans over again to snatch the bottle off the table. Bart’s eyes open with the snap of the top, and he watches as Wally pours a copious amount of lubricant into the palm of his hand before snapping it closed and settling it on the cushions next to them. Wally slaps his dry hand through the lube quickly, but leaves most of it in his palm. He tilts that palm, causing some of the lube to run down his index and middle fingers. He runs the back of his hand along Bart’s inner thigh, getting a low moan in response. Sucking at his fingers causes the moan to increase in volume. He wraps his hand around the base of Bart’s dick, to distract him, before pressing into him with two slick fingers. Bart gasps, eyes going wide, and he tries to prop himself up on his elbow, mouth opening, before Wally gives a slow stroke and presses in further. With that, Bart falls back, panting, a flush spreading over his torso. He whimpers as Wally withdraws his fingers, tilting his palm to re-slick them, and mews when Wally slides them back in, moving them slowly. His mouth drops as Bart hooks his legs behind him, pulling himself further onto Wally’s fingers.
“Wally, Wally,” Bart’s repeating breathlessly, wriggling against his one hand, and trying to thrust into the other. He brings his fingers to his mouth and starts sucking at them, still muttering Wally’s name around them.
“Oh, fuck, Bart.” At his name, Bart’s eyes slip open, heavy-lidded and burning. They widen as Wally pulls his fingers out, slathers the remaining lube over his dick and grabs the back of Bart’s thigh, lifting his hips up slightly to get a better angle to push into him, starting to stroke Bart with his other hand.
“Ohhh…” Wally can see Bart bite his own fingers as he comes, and so he bites the ones in his mouth, still pushing into Bart slowly. Bart shudders and presses his heels against Wally’s back, forcing him further in.
“Bart, easy, oh, oh god, I don’t want to,” he gasps as Bart rolls his hips up further, arching his back off the couch completely, moaning. “…hurt…” Bart moans again, louder. “…Jesus.” Wally just stares at him for a few short moments, mesmerized at the lithe body underneath him writhing in pleasure. This is one side of Bart he never thought he’d see. Had even given any thought to the existence of. Bart settles back down, unmoving, watching Wally’s eyes travel over his body. He pulls his forgotten fingers out of Wally’s mouth and trails them across his cheek, then down to his neck, pressing gently, moving further still until his can squeeze Wally’s shoulder. Pull him gently.
“I want this,” he murmurs. Wally starts, and his eyes fly to Bart’s. “I want whatever you want me to want. Whatever…” he licks his lips, eyes losing focus.
“Bart, you don’t have to … you’re not doing this just so I’ll like you, are you?”
“You mean you won’t otherwise?”
“Oh, geez, I didn’t mean-”
“Shut up,” Bart gasps. “I’m joking. I just want you to. Oh grife, just….speed up the pace? Please?”
Wally blinks. “Bart. You know who you’re talking to, right?”
Bart mutters something Wally can’t quite hear, so he thrusts in further, and the moan is audible. He thrusts again quickly, and Bart arches.
“Yeessss…” he hisses. Wally brings his hands down to grab Bart’s hips, pulling him in time his thrusts. “Oh, yeah, faster…come on, Flash…oh,” and Bart’s mouth falls open, emitting wordless sounds as he comes again. Wally shudders and half-falls onto Bart as he orgasms, panting against Bart’s neck.
“Faster,” Bart’s still murmuring. “More…”
Figures. Although he’d been living here for half his life, the other half had been spent in virtual reality, and obviously, he’d be all about the instant gratification. Or, in this case, continuing gratification. “You’re lucky I am who I am,” Wally pants into Bart’s ear. Bart moans and clutches him tighter, and Wally just licks the side of his face, waiting for the refractory to end. He smears a hand up Bart’s chest, then to his mouth, impulsively licking his fingers. “Huh. And I was always yelling at you for eating sweets…”
Bart’s staring at him curiously, and Wally proffers his hand. Keeping his eyes on Wally, he licks out quickly. He blinks then grabs Wally’s hand in his own, cleaning it thoroughly with his tongue. Wally just stares. Then gasps as Bart moans and pulls him into a thrust. Refractory over, he thinks, grabbing onto Bart’s shoulders and riding him as gently as he can. And slowly.
“No, no, fast,” Bart murmurs against his neck. Wally quickens up the pace slightly, and Bart’s still crying out for speed. And Wally realizes he’s never been able to really cut loose and lose control during sex, for fear of hurting his partner. He’s just realizing that Bart…Bart can take whatever he can give, as fast as he can give it. He doesn’t have to keep a short leash on the pace. He hadn’t understood what Bart had been saying before, but he does now. He kisses Bart’s sweaty forehead gently, and it’s the last gentle thing he does.
Wally pours himself a glass of water and sits on the couch. Bart’s sprawled on the floor, asleep. Some time before, Wally had put a blanket over him, and it’s easier on his conscience to not have to see the bitten and bruised body, covered in dried semen. Bart’s face is mostly normal, his lips aren’t as swollen as before, and his expression is unreadable in sleep. Wally checks the clock, then nudges Bart with his foot. Bart murmurs, clutching the blanket, and curling in on himself. Wally sighs and nudges him again. “Come on. Jay’s going to be expecting you.”
Bart sighs, opening his eyes and sitting up. He winces. It makes Wally wince. “Call Jay... Staying over…” he mutters sleepily.
Wally rolls his shoulders nervously. “Jay. He’ll suspect something.”
“Like what?” Bart murmurs. “Besides, it’s not like you never stayed over Grandpa’s when you were younger, right? And it’s not like-” Bart’s eyes focus on Wally’s face “-you were!”
“No!”
“You totally were! Oh, fuck!”
“Bart! Where’d you learn that word?”
“ ‘Oh fuck, Bart, I’m going to fuck you into the fucking floor, fuck,’” Bart growls in imitation of Wally.
“Oh. Right.”
“And don’t change the subject!”
“Listen, I’m not. Barry and I - this kinda thing never happened. I swear.”
Bart looks at him skeptically, but seeing Wally’s earnest expression, it changes. “But you wanted it to.”
“No! Maybe. Maybe a little.” Wally can’t look him in the eye for that. Now two people know.
He stares at Bart’s hand instead, which is stroking up his leg. “Were, were you thinking of him? When we…?”
“No.” It’s partially the truth. But it’s also partially a lie. Wally can’t read if Bart believes him
“Well, the truth of the matter is,” Bart said, hauling himself to his feet, using Wally’s thighs for balance, “I can’t walk, never mind fucking run.” The blanket falls to the floor and Wally marvels at the body which, marred by bruises, teeth marks, and rugburn, is still incredibly hot.
“I could carry you,” he says, not really meaning it. He reaches out to gently stroke the indents around Bart’s abdominal muscles.
“The hell.” Bart’s fingers twine in his hair, petting softly for a moment before roughly twisting and yanking him off the couch, onto his knees. The glass falls from his hands and lands with a thud on the carpet. “Your turn…” Bart says, looking down at Wally on his knees. Wally’s hands find Bart’s legs and run up the back, making the boy shudder. “…Kid Flash.”
Wally blinks. “I’ll call Jay.”