Disclaimer: I don't own Young Justice.
A/N: This is one is for Vanessa Masters who has become a very good friend of mine here on fanfiction. I feel TERRIBLE that I haven't done more La'gaan/Conner things, BUT I've decided to do another favorite pairing of mine—Kaldur'ahm/Wally West. Please enjoy, my darling! And all you lovely reviewers. This fic is set after Kaldur went undercover but Wally is still a hero. That being said, this will be the last fic I write in the Young Justice fandom for a while. Please enjoy!
Title: Break Time
Summary: Wally holds his breath when he daydreams. (Kaldur'ahm's kisses are salt-water.)
Pairing(s): Kaldur'ahm/Wally West
Warning(s): yaoi, angsty, OOC, REALLY short
Xxx
"You're spacing out again, Kid."
When Dick speaks, it makes Wally think of children that had to grow up too fast. His voice is deep but still holds that sense of disbelief that all small children have. He sits with his back straight and smiles with his eyes.
"You're spacing out again, Kid."
"Am I?"
The Bioship is hovering above one of the oceans (Pacific or Atlantic, Wally can't remember), and M'gann is speaking softly to Artemis through the psychic link. Wally can't make out anything their saying—their voices are soft, rolling whispers that sound more like wind whistling through a chilly, empty house (or a cold, empty mountain). M'gann giggles at something, her shoulders shaking with the motion, and the Bioship turns slightly to the right.
The water beneath them mirrors the blackness of the sky.
"Kid?"
"I'm fine, dude."
"You're a terrible liar."
And Wally knows this—knows it all too well. He rolls his head onto his left shoulder to stare at Dick (but Robin's been dead for a while, and all that remains is Nightwing—a pale shadow of The Bat).
"What is it, Kid?"
(Kaldur appears to him more and more often, but Wally can no longer tell when those instances are real or not. However, he's starting to care less and less and traces the spots on his shoulders where Kaldur's lips have touched.)
"Just a little depressed."
Wally is supposed to be all smiles and sunshine; he's supposed to be the heart—the strength (but when your heart is broken, how much strength are you willing to give?).
He doesn't realize he's holding his breath until he feels the sharp sting of oxygen burn his chest as it settles in his still organs.
Dick touches his shoulder, narrows his eyes behind the mask.
"I know how much you miss him."
"No, you don't."
(When he licks his lips, all he tastes is saltwater.)