Title: Summer Showers
Author: ferretgirl-1124
Pairing(s): SpeedyxAqualad
Genre: Humor, smut
Rating: R
Warning(s): Smut, slash
Disclaimer: Once they realized just how much I would abuse these guys, DC restricted all access to them; lucky for me they forgot to change their locks. In conclusion, I do not own, I just routinely kidnap and poke with sticks.
Word Count: 641

Summary: Showering alone it way overrated.

A/N: I've…never written anything like this. I blame Carnifax, 'cause it's her friggin' fic, Volte Face (which is amazing, I command you all to go read) that inspired this. That, and the odd mental image that suddenly popped up of Garth looking in a mirror and seeing more then he bargained for. Oh, and this can be connected to chapter #3 and #12.

It was late at night when Titans East finally made it home. One of West's villains, Plasmus, had somehow made it to their city, and the ensuing fight had been one of the most disgusting they had ever faced. They had all headed to their showers as soon as they got back, desperate to be clean before they got some well-deserved sleep.

Aqualad was the last to return, because he had stuck around to wash away some of the slime that coated part of the city, not wanting to leave it overnight for fear that it would harden and become impossible to clean. As a result, he straggled home at ten minutes to one, eyes drooping, certain that the others were already asleep. If it weren't for the distasteful goop that covered him, he would have simply collapsed into bed. Since there was no chance of sleep until he was clean, though, he walked into his bathroom and began stripping.

It wasn't until the unitard was un-zipped and halfway off that he noticed the silhouette. Reflected clearly in the mirror was a shape, visible through the cloudy glass doors that he had in place of a shower curtain. It was about his height, muscular, and leaning up against the wall that faced towards the mirror, quite obviously watching his every move.

The Atlantean reacted without thinking, drawing cold water out of the pipes and slamming the figure up against the wall, trapping him. The voice that yelped and began cursing was one he knew far too well, even if it was muffled, and he pushed the water back where it had come from, frowning. "Speedy?"

"What the hell, fish boy?" A naked and dripping archer exploded from the shower, slamming him up against the counter. "You almost drowned me!"

Ignoring the pain as his back ground up against the counter edge, Aqualad stared at his teammate, mouth agape. "What…?"

"My shower broke yesterday, remember?"

Gathering his wits, the dark haired boy pushed Speedy away, trying to keep his eyes from straying downwards. The two weren't exactly innocent when it came to the body of the other; since the first odd but passionate date a month ago they had groped at each other more then once, but inconvenient attacks on the city and lack of knowledge had kept them from going beyond a quick brush through boxers. The sight of his kind-of boyfriend – or boy toy, or however they were defining this – bare in front of him was distracting him from his anger, and the strong hands gripping his hips weren't helping the situation either. "S-so you came into my bathroom and waited for me?"

"Well," The redhead slipped his fingers under the material of the Atlantean's unitard before gripping his hips again, now smirking slightly. "I realized I could shower alone, or I could wait a while and shower with you. Then I realized that there was really no competition."

Garth opened his mouth to object, but the words changed to a gasp as his clothes slipped off and the archer rubbed against him. The lips pressing against his throat alone would have been enough to distract him, but Roy added his hips to the equation, rolling them against the Atlantean's, pushing him toward the edge. Harsh pants ripped from his throat as he tipped his head back, begging hoarsely for more, more, more; he needed Roy to touch him, and the need increased as the redhead planted kisses on his lips, jaw, chest. But the archer's hands stayed on his hips, adding to the torture – he couldn't thrust, or do anything to increase the horrible, wonderful friction.

The last semi-coherent thought to appear in Garth's brain before waves of desire and the sound of his heart pounding drowned everything else out was that sleep, and showering alone, were both highly overrated.