Authors Note: So, I was just inspired by some amazing line in some amazing fanfiction and just hope that this is just as amazing. The first part in my Longing For Lullabies series, stories that will contain one-shots of BOY love within the YJ universe. Warning for everyone, these stories will have BOYxBOY love.
Disclaimer: I own neither Young Justice or "Afterglow" by Wilkinson
Afterglow
"Lights and action, strong attraction
Afterglow we're ready for the afterglow"
- Wilkinson
When they make love -
- it's calm, collected and oh so sensual. No one has to say it, but they know. They know as soon as they step into one of their apartments, Kaldur will grab Roy's hand, sliding his other up the small of Roy's back. He'll gently move the other backwards, towards the bed - always the bed. Lovemaking isn't for the couch or the wall or the floor, so says Kaldur.
It starts slowly, with a need to explore each other's body, to get to know every tender spot and scar over and over and over and over again. So much that they can recall the length of a particular scar at any time they need, to remember that Roy likes it when the cool of Kaldur's finger pads rubs over his collar bone at just the right pressure, just the right speed. Or that Kaldur can't help but shiver (shiver, tremble, flutter) when Roy's hair tickles the middle gill of his neck on the right side as his other hand travels to the last gill on his left, lightly scratching.
Foreplay isn't just for fun, it's to love each other in an intimate way that they don't allow out in the field.
And when Kaldur starts to push in, slow and cool and a need to feel connected, he kisses him hard, no movement, just the want to touch. It's slow, like everything else that they do. His arm sliding across Roy's shoulder, Roy's leg tangling with one of his own, the red heads fingers grasping the back of Kaldur's neck bringing their faces impossibly closer.
Even the Kal that escapes Roy's mouth is tantalizingly steady, the name rolling off his tongue like lead and honey - heavy and sweet, rough and smooth, pained and pleasured.
The first thrust is the slowest. He pulls out and pushes back in, as if he's starting the process of entering him all over again. And as Kaldur picks up the tempo, his lips find themselves traveling down the addicting curve of Roy's neck. They make it all the way to his chest, trailing deliciously slow along his collar bone, cooling and heating him up in a way that he can't comprehend.
When they make love.
When they fuck -
- the couch or the wall or the floor are the appropriate places. That's not to say that the headboard of the bed and the wall haven't been introduced before (many many many times before) to the fast rhythm of Roy's thrusts.
It's on the particularly harder missions, or a fight with Ollie or a long trip from Atlantis that was riddled with longer arguments of politics and feelings of home-sickness from seeing Shayeris and seeing Sha'lain'a, his mother, that these come along. And stepping onto the soft sands of land, Roy knows by the look in Kaldur's eyes that tonight -
- it's not a night of lovemaking.
Roy pushes him into the wall, his roughened by the bowstring of his arrow hands gripping the cold arms of Kaldur. So it's the wall today, runs through Kaldur's mind before even rougher lips attack his own.
And it's hard and fast and what each of them need.
The need to feel Roy take him into his mouth.
The need to be filled with Roy.
The need to have Roy take control of him, for Roy to feel the exhilaration of having control of something in his life just once, goddammit.
For Kaldur to feel the loss of control, to cry out Roy Roy Roy and know that he'll take care of him. That Roy will be there after this moment of needing to lose his trained-by-military control.
When they fuck.
When they bask in the afterglow -
- it's of their happier memories. Where they can just be Kal and Roy. Where they can be a careless and innocent Atlantean and a hot-headed and passionate human. Where they make the most sense together, even if the next morning or that night they'll have to slip on the uniform, slip on the weapons and become the heroes. The heroes who don't let anything get in the way of the line of duty.
So they make the most of this moment. They make the most of grabbing each other's hands, running their fingers across the sweaty skin of the other, taking the small after-kisses, joking and laughing and in Roy's case trying to contain his behind a snort.
They are constantly touching, feeling, roaming - to just feel the other there. To reassure that yes they had just made passionate love or fucked each other's brains out.
Because in the end it's all the same. They still feel completely satisfied with the other, with what they had just done. They feel the others love and commitment and need and wants and desires and -
When they bask in the afterglow.
I think I approve of this one.
Thanks for reading.
Eva