Hello, my lovelies.

Heck no, we haven't given up on this! Don't worry, we're still here!

AmbiguousBastard94 both have been very busy, we're really sorry! And I was in a car accident recently, so that didn't help for the delay. But I promise you all we'll be updating a lot quicker because we really have A LOT in store for you guys. Like, a lot.

Ratings will go up fam, no lie.

Seriously, thank you all for still reading this and following us on this long journey. We love you guys.

WARNINGS: Slash, male-male relationship, language, man-whore behavior, suggestive themes

DISCLAIMER: … Oh how I wish I owned Young Justice, but sadly I don't.

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Crave You

Chapter Eight

Fools

Blue- It's a calming color. It's so tranquil, yet, lively- like a current. Like the ocean, or even the sky on occasion. Blue, like those deep-ended swimming pools where children play. And blue, like the drops of rain that are torn from the skies during Autumn. Blue was more than just a color, it could be a feeling too; sadness, loneliness- a broken heart even.

Yet, all Wally could see right now was a fierce red, a bleeding, angry red, like the fire that was coursing through his veins and bursting its way from his clenching gut. It was a consuming color, though he was painting with blue, it shone fiercely like blood.

He bent down to shove his paintbrush into the bucket on the tarp beside him, then stood back up to swipe dangerously up and down in vicious strokes, that surprised anyone that the bristles of the brush itself weren't being ripped from the handle, from the amount of Wally's force. The brush's bristles were already standing far apart and bent at every weird angle thanks to the force Wally put into his painting.

A few feet away, Roy mimicked his movements with just as much vigor as Wally, not really caring what onlookers might think, which he demonstrated by scowling at each and every one of them.

With teeth gritted and dangerously visible, Roy had to breathe deeply through his nose to remain calm enough, to ensure he did not make another hole in the large canvas displayed before them.

They had spent the most of their afternoon painting this monstrosity of a canvas. And normally he would have been glad to be out of class, but seeing as they were only off to do chores such as these… then he would much rather take the bull by the horns during French Lessons.

He scoffed, narrowing his eyes and diverting them onto the kid beside him.

By his side stood some shy freshman with a mop of dark brown hair and large glasses on his nose. The kid was painting with barely any color on his brush and the tiniest strokes Roy had by far ever witnessed.
He groaned gutturally, when he saw Wally eye the same kid, with the same vehemence.

This kid was the only person in between them. If he hadn't been there the two of them could kick off what they had started a week ago. But nooo, never mind, of course this kid had to get in the way.

Roy rolled his eyes and stiffened his tall frame, as he pretended not to look at Wally, when the other redhead relocated his eyes onto him. He did not want Wally to think he was worth his time.

Because he was not.

He continued to paint, or rather abuse the canvas. What was supposed to be a sunny hill-top looked somewhat more like an aftermath of war. The blue sky had turned a dark shade, closely resembling black, while the soft glow of the sun closely resembled the murky shade of blood. What had to take the price, however, must have been Wally's imitation of grass.

On the freckled teen's part of the canvas, each little straw of grass looked more like splatters of puke. You had to wonder how Wally had worked the gray color into the green of his grass too.

The tiny freshman between them gulped noticeably, visibly suffering under the intense pressure of their unspoken rivalry. Then the guy bow down to wet his paint-brush and gather his strength.

But while he ducked low, Roy accidentally flicked his paint-brush towards Wally's side of the canvas, splattering his grass with bits of light blue.

"Ooops," Roy said nonchalantly, feigning innocence.

The other redhead stiffened visibly. He broadened his shoulders and widened his eyes angrily.

"I guess… that's what happens…" he said, lowly.

Roy smirked, knowing Wally didn't want to get into any more trouble… But they all knew that Wally couldn't contain his anger and feelings, he would bottle that up. Roy could make him explode. He looked back at the canvas, somewhat admiring his work… it wasn't all that bad.

He actually had quite the skills with painting, if he had to say so himself.

Yet, before the freshman came back up from his crouch, the older redhead felt a harsh sting prod his ribs forcefully.
"Ouch," he hissed, quickly grabbing the assaulted area and turning towards Wally expectantly.

Assessing the other teenager, his jaw fell slightly ajaw….

Did Wally just stab him with the sharp end of a paintbrush?

Narrowing his blue eyes, Roy caught the slight glimpse of a smirk on Wally's lips, and that was enough to send him over the railing.

He clenched his fists at both sides of his body and opened his mouth wide- when the nervous head of the freshman popped into his vision.

The kid stood nervously in between them, eyeing them both uneasily.

"I-I'm sorry…" He said, gulping…. "But, we're out of orange paint…." He said. It was barely above a whisper, but both boys heard him clearly. Their eyes were fixated onto his every little movement.

"Oooh, is that so?" Roy said, smiling tightly and staring creepily at the shorter teenager before him. The freshman lit up like a fire-cracker and nodded quickly, collecting the two empty cans of paint in his fumbling grasp. "I-I-I'll go get some more! Y-You don't have to worry about it, sirs." He said, nodding his head wildly, to the point where he had to push his glasses up his nose, before they dropped off of it.

Wally just glared at the kid as he scrambled away from them like the little coward he was.

What was he so afraid of? Wally had been a great mentor! Look how much work they had gotten done. Tsk. Freshmen nowadays… couldn't stand a little tension…

Roy arched an eyebrow, glancing in the direction of the scared brunette… he huffed.

Kids nowadays.

He went back to his painting, even adding a little tongue out the corners of his mouth, to emphasize how greatly he concentrated on his masterpiece.

That was until he felt a budding elbow, stabbing his side ever so slightly to begin with… He ignored it at first, trying to stay collected, as he blended the red and orange of the sun with the blue of his night sky. A little shade on the sun would add some depth to the picture, right?

- And then IT happened...

With a quick assaulting swipe of a hand, a tormenting stripe of green went straight through the sun

- His beautiful, perfect circle of a sun.

That bright sunny piece of glory he had worked on all afternoon.

At first he didn't register it hadn't been his own brush. At first he just stood there… awestruck.

His mouth hung ajar, as his blue eyes widened with shock and pure horror… his picture! There was a high pitched squeal that went off in his head as he stared dumbstruck at his poor picture.

That's when he glared at the offending brush, and back up at Wally. Wally adorned a shining smile that almost consumed half of his face, and a dark light appeared in his light green eyes. At that look, the cocky smile that was meant to show arrogance, Roy shot his hands out in front of him in order to pull the other closer by the collar of his black and white Obey shirt. He gripped the offending fabric in his balled up fists, as he puffed air into Wally's face from his nostrils.

Wally, at this, didn't even flinch, he just grinned even wider.

Did this prick finally go off the deep end? What the hell, did Wally get lost in his crazy mind?

Roy clenched a fist and aimed it above his head, ready to strike this class-A freak for ruining his masterpiece, when he heard a disapproving clearing of the throat from behind them.

He glanced over his shoulder and slowly let the front of Wally's shirt slip from his hand, as the play's instructor, Arthur, assessed them closely, with narrowed eyes and a disapproving frown.

"What are the two of you up to, hm?" He asked, lifting a thick, blonde brow in question.

Roy patted down his shirt and tried to play it off coolly by saying: "We got into a slightly heated debate about the colors of the setting… I assure you there is nothing to worry about." He smiled charmingly, patting Wally with disinterest on his shoulder to look comradely.

The other redhead just stood there, smirking from ear to ear, looking crazy.

The instructor clenched a fist, and proudly put a hand on Roy's head… "That's it," he said… "That's the spirit I'm looking for." He sighed and closed his eyes. "Young man, what's your name?"

Roy looked a little dumbfounded, as he glared up at the man. "Err… Roy, sir." He said, staring up at him like he was something otherworldly…

Then he caught onto his own slip-up and redirected his gaze properly onto the man, while trying to smile a little formally, he squared his shoulders. "R-Roy Harper." He corrected himself.

The man nodded, pleased with the information. "You will be remembered, Roy Harper." He said.

Then he let go of the tall redhead and smiled a little mischievously. "I will remember the both of you." He said, looking back at Wally and pointing at him, before wiggling his brows playfully.
With his eyes locked tightly onto them, he slowly walked away from them, deep in artistic thought, until the very last of their meeting, where he had to turn a corner and disappear from the scene.

Feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, Roy watched as the huge man slid away from them. It hadn't been a joke when Dick said the man was somewhat of a… creep.

Roy wasn't so sure he wanted him to remember who he was… Who knew what that man would want to do to you, once the two of you were alone...

Shuddering, Roy turned back to their shared canvas, taking in the harm Wally had caused it.

He frowned, picking up his brush once more, and returning to his work.

Wally wasn't gonna get the best of him.

Speaking of Wally, the latter was back to focusing on his work, as he ruffled a hand through his ginger hair, the same color as their sunset, or, in some countries- fury. His lightly freckled, tan face held the crazed expression still, as he mumbled to himself, "Maybe I should consider dying my hair? Hmm. But what color? Green could be cool.. Or maybe even this weird blue." Wally thrusted his brush into the blue paint can and moved the brush against Roy's canvas in huge thick strokes, then stuck it in the green, smearing it across the blue to mix an ugly murky color.

Wally then threw up his arms in the air with a slight shout of a delightful: "My masterpiece!" As the paint still on his brush flinged on the floor and other people around him much to his own joy.

Roy stared, mouth agape, at this crazy nutcase.

What. The. Actual. Fuck?

With anger swelling up in him quickly, Roy didn't even think as he tore the brush from Wally and shouted: "Why don't I help you with that?" He thrust the brush back onto the canvas, which was rapidly growing more and more abstract in its design.

Then he tore the brush across Wally's fields of grass, while aggressively humming some cheerful and annoyingly loud tv-tune, whilst he chose to ignore the shouts of protest coming from the other redhead.

"Stop that!" Wally yelled, grasping at his arm, attempting to make the taller redhead quit his painting. But Roy just shook his arm furiously, while stroking the brush against the canvas still.

"No, no… you see, I'm helping you with your masterpiece." He said. "Isn't it pretty?" He asked, feigning sweetness. "The ocean should be everywhere, not just by that sickly looking sun up there! Nono- EVERYWHERE." He said, thrusting the brush against the canvas, until it broke through the threaded material in several places. He gritted his teeth now, barely containing himself.

Wally growled low in his throat, harshly shoving aside the teen, and grabbing a spare brush on the floor. "You're SO very right!" He yelled, feigning an aggressive amount of delight.

"The ocean should also be in the sky! Because it's just sooo pretty, right? But the ocean should be the same color as the sun, right? I think so." He hissed, dipping the brush into a can of red paint. "The ocean should reflect the sun, right? Isn't that the most realistic? Hm? Roy?" He ground out from underneath his sneer. But just as he was ready to paint over Roy's sky, he dropped the brush into the can, shrieking slightly in annoyance he fumbled to get it out, but eventually grew enraged enough to just grab the entire can and splash its content across the canvas.

Roy stilled all his emotions, as he saw the red splash upon his side of the canvas…. All of his hard work just disappeared before his eyes. Hours of painting what (turned out to be) the evening sky, the tranquil blue ocean and lovely glow of the sun…. All just for nothing. All wasted.

He roared loudly, losing his composure, as he grabbed the entire canvas of its holster and stared Wally wildly in the eyes, while he began to shred the entire thing. "Can the beauty of the sun truly be captured?!" He yelled, wildly. "Isn't it blasphemy to even try?!" He screamed as he twisted and turned the thick frames of the canvas in his furious grasp, eager to destroy it, whilst Wally just stood there, taken aback by the taller redhead.

A crowd had gathered around them by now, staring at their intense sparring with the canvas. Paint was everywhere; on the floor, on people, some had even slipped onto the painting, but most of all it was on Wally and Roy, who was wrestling the canvas between them, not caring about its wet surface sliding across their torsos, as they tried to one-up the other by making him let go of it.

"This is my masterpiece, let go of it!" Wally yelled, while Roy tried to twist the huge frame out from underneath his hands. "No, art belongs to no one!" He yelled back, slipping slightly on the wet paint beneath him and pulling Wally slowly with him towards the ground.

Lying on the ground, smeared in paint, covered by the shreds of their canvas, and trying to throw in every punch not visible to their audience, both boys grunted furiously from beneath their shared work of art, one of them even resolved to screeching in pain at one point- before a smooth hand dropped low, grabbed onto a corner of the canvas, and slowly lifted it up off the boys in disgust.

The paint slicked tightly to their clothing and skin, as the threaded material was slowly parted from them. The crowd around them snickered lightly through their fear-stricken faces as Dick Grayson was staring down at both boys, with a hand on his hip, another hand grasping onto the canvas, and a disapproving arch of his eyebrow directed at them.

"Hello, boys." He said flatly, not the least impressed.

Roy groaned, cracking upon an eye as the sharp lights of the ceiling shone brightly down upon both him and his fellow offender. He grunted in pain as he discreetly tried to kick Wally off of him.

"Hi, Dick," he said, feigning innocence. He tried to smile his way out of this one, but the noirette didn't seem the least swayed by his broken lip and drained face.

"You're a mess." Dick stated, glancing towards Wally.

The entire left side of Wally's face and body was drained in red paint, as he sat up, groaning and holding onto his ribs. "Yeah," Wally said, closing an eye in pain.

Dick folded both his arms. "This entire hall is a mess. Due to you two." He said, tone even and almost disinterested.

Both redheads grew silent, as they turned their heads towards the floor. Uh-oh.
If anything, there had been one thing they had learned this past week:

Do not piss Dick Grayson off, when he is in charge of a production.

Roy shrunk a little, laughing nervously: "D-Dick, c'-c'mon it isn't even that ba-"

- "OH. MY. GOD."

A shrill voice cut through the tense air, as Arthur Curry descended among the on-looking peers.

"I can't believe it..!" His mighty voice roared above the crowd.

"Have you seen this?!" He hollered, pointing sternly onto the set of teenagers.

"I've never seen anything like this." He whispered, lowly…

"This is…" He neared the two culprits cautiously, as he bit his bottom-lip and sniffled.

"This is…" He grasped onto the shreds of the canvas and held back an upset hiccup.

He clutched it to his chest, even though the paint was still wet, and shrieked a little when it distorted the painting. "No-no, I'm sorry." He muttered to the painting, shushing it.

He inhaled deeply and turned around slowly, as he lifted the canvas above his head for their peers to see. "THIS IS…" He hollered… "THIS IS TRUE ART." He yelled, barely withholding his tears.

He fought himself to not cry, as he slowly sank to the floor on his knees… "Behold," he said. "Behold a true masterpiece…" He nodded proudly. "Look at it! Look at all that raw emotion!"

The hall was dead-silent as the crowd of students didn't dare object the man.

"One day, you can only hope you'll learn how to make art like this," he said. "But for now, bow down and applause this truly amazing piece of work, and its creators!" He said, rising to his feet and clapping enthusiastically. He gestured towards the bewildered redheads on the floor, and a slow, almost mockingly weak round of applause began to resonate within the room.

Both Wally and Roy sat frozen in place, staring wide-eyed up at the man, as he clutched what both considered to be their former masterpieces. Neither dared to speak, as they were afraid what might come next, if either dared to open up their mouths. So they just sat back, dumbstruck.

"Thank you boys," Arthur said. "Thank you for bestowing us with this piece of art." He nodded towards Dick, giving him a silent 'thank-you' before leaving the scene with the canvas proudly in his grasp, tending to it as if it was a real person, who needed the loving care of a family-member.

With both of his dark eyebrows shot into thin air, the blue-eyed beauty cleared his throat unsurely.

"Uh, okay." He said, regaining his composure. "Everyone get back to your positions, please!" He steeled himself a little as he held up a cluster of papers and began dealing out assignments. "We're not done for today, there's still a lot here that needs to be done! Thank you."

As the teenagers in the hall began clearing the way, Dick was quick to grab onto the back of Wally's shirt, before the redhead went too far away. "I'm not done with you," he said, sickeningly sweet. "And you neither, Roy Harper!" He hissed, as the taller redhead tried to flee from the scene, by the stair that lead onto the stage.

Though he may be the smallest of them, Dick drug both of them out of the room, and into one of the costume rooms that, at the moment, was empty. His grip on the two was extremely tight, his thin fingers were like a band around Roy's bigger wrist and Wally's t-shirt, and it would be impossible for the two redheads to escape his grasp. Finally, as Dick slammed the door with a swift kick of his foot, he let go, and turned to face the others. Sharp blue eyes shone up at the two, while his small and elegant features were pulled back into that of distaste.

"Why do you two always have to do this?" He asked in distaste. "You ruin everything you touch!" He yelled. "Do you honestly not see the destruction you cause around you, every time you're both together?" He asked, looking between them with nothing but frustration, "Stop it, stop it, all of it. You're exhausting to put up with, I feel like I'm babysitting a pair of children." He ran a tired hand through his hair, groaning. "I and everybody else have to constantly worry what you're going to mess up next, because we know you'll be making a mess of every bit of our hard work, and to be honest, we're all just sick and tired of it. Grow up and cut this shit out." Dick leaned forward, his eyes narrow and piercing, daring them to cross him, as he stared them down.

Dick was so done with their shit, he was dead serious. Everyday there was something new between the two of them that needed sorting out, it was like an age old fight between two foes, and over what..? Nothing in particular. There was no point to this shit.

Dick was starting to loathe both of them- even Roy.

Okay, Dick understood that Wally didn't like him, big deal. So, Wally was a homophobe, Dick could handle that. He didn't care, he was a big boy and was over it by now. But Wally and Roy always fighting because of Wally's homophobic behaviour was annoying him to no end. Dick wanted to tell the both of them to fuck off because somehow he was always dragged into it.

And he didn't want to be a part of it. This past week had been one of utter terror.

He didn't need Roy's 'help', he wanted these guys out of his mind and life. Once, before this vicious rivalry of theirs, it seemed, Roy was his friend; a kind person that was always willing to lend a hand when Dick needed it, but now, said hand wasn't wanted. Roy was way too persistent in his attempt to remain Dick's friend and protector, while Dick was finished playing the part of some helpless little girl, who needed her bigger and stronger guy friend to save her. Dick could save himself. He got absolutely pissed whenever the older redhead hung around him, acting all tough and burly, as though he couldn't defend himself against that asshole West.

"Please, please- just leave me the hell alone. Both of you, don't bother me again. I don't want your friendship or your rude comments, just go away. If I didn't make this clear before, I'm making it now: - Just go the fuck away, and please stay away. For good. Thank you." Dick hissed as he pushed a hand through his dark hair. And that's when both realized how tired the other younger teen looked, his eyelids drooped slightly and he seemed to slump a little, in huge contrast to his usual upright posture. His forehead was creased with stress, as his eyebrows furrowed together.

Roy knit his eyebrows together, each word stabbing at his heart, as he reached out slowly, attempting to grab Dick's hand. "Dick I'm-.." But the younger shook him off, scoffing and looking into his eyes. "No, Roy." He said, shaking his head in disappointment.

"I've had enough of your bullshit." He sighed. "You're full of it."

He turned his back on them, put both hands on his hips and breathed deeply as he said:
"As of tomorrow I'm assigning the two of you to be Arthur's assistants." He said.

"He's grown very fond of you guys, so I'm sure he won't mind." He glanced back at them.

"Of course, we'll be short of two men, but we'll have to manage." He declared. "Considering the two of you have done far more damage than good, I'm guessing it won't matter that much."

He went and opened the door, while gesturing his hand tiredly at them.

"By the way, remember to clean up the mess you've made of the hallway, before you leave. Otherwise I'm sure our principal we'll be looking forward to suspend your asses for the next couple of weeks." He descended out through the door and made sure to slam it at them.

The temperature of the room seemed to drop from heated to ice cold as both redheads just sat there, silently, taking in the aftermath of Dick's brutally honest words.

Neither spoke, for what was there to say?

They majorly messed up. Again.

Wally clenched his fists. Bullshit… this was all Roy's fault.

He narrowed his eyes and glared up at the taller boy. Fucking prick, he thought.

He got up onto his feet and dusted himself off, trying to remain cool even though he was smeared in paint from head to toe.

As he departed from the room, he stubbornly refused to spare Roy as much as a single glare.

That left the taller teen alone to brood in the slight darkness of the dressing room.

As he once more ran over their recent scolding in his head, Roy heaved a heavy sigh, and tightly clutched onto his messy red hair, while he screwed his eyes shut and his face burned red with regret.

Fuck, fuck, FUCK. He hit the wall by his side with a clenched fist, and grit his teeth at the pain.
Somehow, even though he had chosen not to remain Wally's friend, the idiot still managed to drag him out into trouble. Roy had not gone through years of anger-management with Dinah, to let a complete moron like Wally, sway his temper with the mere flick of his hand. He really hadn't

He had to compose himself and get back to that Roy Harper he had grown to become.

That Roy Harper other people respected and admired for his composure.

He had to stop playing these games and losing his head. Losing himself.

And he had to do it soon. He had to do it now.

He had to man up and resist his anger.

Before he let Wally get the better of him. Again.

He would not be dragged down to the levels of Wally West, simply because Wally could not contain himself. He had to be strong now. This was a test to all that he had learned through his many years of therapy. And so far he was failing it…

But he didn't want to fail it. He wanted to better himself. He wanted to be a better person. For himself. For the sake of others. For the sake of his friends. For the sake of Dick.

So, what did you guys think?

Do we have maybe some Dick/Roy going on...? Or is it one sided, as of the moment? What about Wally? Is it just me and AB, that feel the Roy/Wally, lol?

Gosh, what is Dick thinking? Poor guy, he's so exhausted! Our poor princess!

What the hell is with that Arthur guy?! He's kinda creepy in my opinion...

Wally and Roy fucked it up again huh?

Sorry guys...

So what do you want to see next? What do you think they should do? Let us know everything in your reviews!

-LD