A/N: Inspired by this textsfromlastnight blog post:
(360): You fed me pizza off a sword last night.
I don't own Young Justice :(
His mouth tasted armpit. Not that he knew for certain what armpit tasted like, but if he had to name the flavor in his mouth, it would be armpit. Stinky, sweaty, I'm-a-big-hairy-macho-man-who-just-worked-out-at-the-gym armpit.
He pushed himself up from where he was lying face down on what felt like a bed. Judging by the pounding in his head, last night must have been one helluva party. He just wished he could remember it.
He carefully pried one eye open just long enough to be blinded by the sunlight pouring in through the open curtains of the room. He tried to shove himself into a vaguely upright position, but ended in a heap at the end of the bed. This was not helping his headache. He finally managed to crawl blindly to the window and pull the curtains shut. He then cracked both eyes open, examining his surroundings for the first time.
He was in a hotel room, that much was clear immediately. He double checked just to make sure- yep, he was alone. He breathed a sigh of relief; at least he wouldn't have to explain anything to Artemis. He looked around for his phone, nearly tearing the rom apart before finding it behind the TV. It took him three tries, but he finally unlocked it and sent a message to Dick before collapsing back on the bed.
W: Dude, where am I?
D: Vegas
Wally stared at his phone, trying to remember why he was in Vegas. Pieces of conversations and brief flashes began to drift back to him. Wally and Dick deciding to have one last bro-tastic fling before Wally's bachelor party tomorrow night (Wally glanced at the time on his phone; at this point, it was more like 'in a few hours'), taking the Zeta from Gotham to Vegas, stopping at this pizza joint Wally had heard fantastic things about (Pirate Pizza: The Best Darrrn Pizza in Town)- wait a second.
W: You fed me pizza off a sword last night
D: It wasn't a sword, it was a cutlass. Besides, you weren't complaining…
Wally couldn't argue with that. Pizza was pizza, no matter how it made it to your mouth. He then had another revelation.
W: Why aren't you in Vegas?
D: Arty found out where we were. I bolted – I can face Joker, Bane, and Clayface, but an angry Arty? Some things are just too scary for me…
Wally couldn't help but agree. He loved his fiancée, but there were times she was just plain terrifying. He pushed himself off the bed again, finding that his feet were slightly steadier this time around. He then started to hunt for his wallet. This apology was going to take a lot of chocolate…
