Title: Ninjaing
Author: ferretgirl-1124
Pairing(s): SpeedyxAqualad
Genre: General, Humor
Rating: R
Warning(s): Slash, sexual innuendo, ninjaing
Disclaimer: Stealing DC's toy may not be nice, but it sure is entertaining.
Word Count: 250

Summary: How the hell did he keep disappearing like that?

A/N: Alright, kids, we need to have a chat before you head on. Some of you are absolutely going to hate this, because of it's style, and format. I accept this. I'm sorry if you dislike it. However, it is one of the first breaks in a major writing block, and I absolutely adore it, for the style (one that I've never played with before), the humor, the story, and the story that isn't told. No, not everything is spelled out here. And you know what? I kinda like that. Have fun letting your imaginations run wild!


"I think about you when I touch myself."

Silence.

Choking.

Choking.

Choking.

Okay, coughing. Coughing was better. At least he was breathing again. And why the fuck was no one helping him?

…Oh. He was alone.

…Maybe he had imagined that.

"Do you think about me?"

"What?"

"When you touch yourself."

Fuck. This time it was soda up this noise. Goddamn, stupid sex nin- …where the hell did he go?

"You could touch me you know. I wouldn't mind."

Well, at least this time he wasn't eating. But hitting his head against the kitchen cabinet when it shot up? Not much of an improvement.

And how the hell did he keep disappearing like that?

Okay. Camera surveillance says he was in those rooms. Not a hallucination. That's good. Very good.

…Or bad. Very bad.

…Maybe gab.

…did something just touch his butt?

He didn't want it to come to this, honestly. But the ninja thing had to stop. Sneezing up soda for a week was not his idea of fun.

Main TV hooked up to show surveillance? Check.

Pool nearby? Check.

Sense of self righteous anger? Check.

Moving couch? …what?

The next morning, a girl stood viewing the carnage. Empty pools, a broken couch, and multiple wide screen angles of her two naked, sleeping teammates entangled on the floor, courtesy of the five or so cameras situated around the room.

…Fuck it. She was going back to bed. They could clean this mess up themselves.