A/N: I apologize for the delay on this chapter. I would've gotten it up yesterday but there was a problem at home and… yeah… Anyways, this has been done since… Thursday. So here ya go.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Warning: See the rating? Yeah, for a reason. Don't forget it.


Toxic

It was a slow poison, their love, if it could even be called that.

Wally had stumbled across Roy's apartment on accident one day. He'd just gotten back from a trip to Gotham and had decided to swing by Star City to see if Roy was up to anything on the Red Arrow front when he caught the archer walking home with a grocery bag slung over one shoulder and decked out in his civvies. Wally knew which side of town Oliver Queen lived on, and it wasn't this side. This was the same side that Red Arrow usually had to work on.

He'd quietly followed Roy up to his rooms and stood behind him while he opened the door and began to let himself in. That was when the speedster spoke up, his hands shoved in her pockets. "Hey."

Roy jumped and turned, bag hitting the ground and fist paused midair an inch away from Wally's face. The younger redhead never flinched. "You could've gotten killed." His husky, angry voice was fierce as his bluish eyes raged. He picked up his bag again and headed inside, leaving the door open for his young friend to follow. "Don't do that, Wally."

"I won't." There was something about this new freedom with Roy that gave the speedster enough confidence to look past certain things. He wasn't afraid of Roy hurting him now like he had been before, back when there were barriers. He was perfectly fine and almost ninety-nine percent sure that running into Roy at seventy miles an hour wouldn't get him nearly strangled. That was the freedom he had now. He didn't have to worry about what the friendship border was; at this stage, it was nonexistent. They'd kissed, that was a promise.

"You will, we both know it." He unloaded the bag and put a loaf of bread, some miscellaneous boxes, a few oranges, and a fresh bottle of whiskey on the counter of his small kitchenette. He shot the kid a glare. "So I mean it. No more. I could've seriously hurt you." And worry glinted in his gaze, strong and pained. He didn't know what he'd do if he didn't have Wally there to understand him, to listen to him, to care for him.

With a surge of superspeed, Wally was standing beside Roy in a heartbeat, green eyes wide and adoring as he watched the archer unpack his things from the plastic grocery bag. His gaze caught on the firm muscles of his biceps and the way he seemed to move so perfectly, the way his eyes flickered just right. "You'd never hurt me." He leaned in a little closer so their shoulders touched. His head tilted closer to Roy's. "I know you wouldn't."

Swallowing, Roy turned slightly and pressed his lips to the younger boy's forehead. "There are some things I can't help." He left the groceries out on the counter, figuring he could take care of it later. Right now, he needed some hope and a little bit of love. "Come on." He began to pull a pack out of his pocket while moving towards the couch, his other hand in the younger ginger's hair, pulling him along ever so gently, almost lovingly.

Wally beat Roy to the couch. His feet were so much faster, which would always cause friction between the two; it was the way they were. He had already set the tv on an old comedy station and was listening to the announcer yammer on about unimportant facts about this day in history. When his jade orbs looked up to Roy, who was taking a particularly long time to sit down, he was a bit shocked to find a cigarette between Roy's lips. "You smoke?" questioned the kid, surprise worming its way into his words.

Roy sucked in a deep breath and pulled away the tobacco. "I keep it away from the League. The less they know about my lifestyle, the better." He let out a quick snort of disgust before blowing out the smoke like a dragon. "If Ollie got ahold of this, my bow would be confiscated before the day was up." His blue eyes were watching the window, which was open despite the cold of autumn settling in. The smoke wafted out gently, puffs of cloud-like gray taking to the wind before dissipating.

Knowing how to translate that, Wally looked back to the tv, taking in all this information. Roy drank and smoked. He was a hero, not a convict, not a conman, he was just Roy. This was how he was. Wally swallowed hard and decided to accept it. He loved Roy. He could get past it all. These problems weren't serious enough. None of this mattered. They loved each other, that was what counted.

"You want one?"

Fear touched Wally's mind as he looked up to find a cigarette being held out to him. He knew a lighter would be next. "No, no, I'm good." He'd cemented it with a drink. That was all he'd needed. Wally didn't need to smoke to keep Roy with him. It wasn't necessary.

Roy shrugged this off simply. He took another puff of his own and looked back out the window to the cars that passed by on the street below. "You'd be amazed how good it feels. Makes everything easier on the mind." He waited a few more minutes, gaze usually on the window, until the whole thing was drained of tobacco and just the butt was left. He stuck the smoking, still hot end in an ashtray on the coffee table before moving onto the couch, close to Wally, and taking the speedster in his arms and holding him close.

It took Wally a second to get past the smoke that clung to the archer's skin. He had to breathe it in and adapt before he could fully commit to Roy. It only took a moment to get past the stench before he gave into the thoughts that it was Roy's hands that were on him and Roy's lips that were against his and Roy's broad arms wrapped around him. He just had to remember that this was Roy, the man he was in love with. Roy. Roy.

He decided that he liked the smell of tobacco on the archer's breath.


A/N: I'm amazed this got as many faves and such as it did… In the meantime, leave a review?

~Sky