A/N: Someone wanted to see other characters' reactions. Quick rundown since explaining in the story is unnecessary. Everyone knows about Wally, no one knows he's with Roy. Robin will show up, definitely, but he is not going to in any sort of love triangle. Others are debatable. And someone else asked if the rating will go up: No. I ship, but I'm not going that far. This is the most (and only) slash I've ever written, and I'm not gonna push my limits.
Disclaimer: Don't own. Sorry for long A/N.
Warning: Um… The usual warning? Alcohol and tobacco use. RATED T.
Toxic
It was never just the quiet moments Wally longed for anymore. There was once a day where he would fantasize about a sunset and a beach and the perfect kiss with Roy, all that cliché stuff that he would dream up out of his innocent head.
That innocence was dead.
Now it was all hot, heavy, drunk, and smoky.
And he didn't care.
A drink or two for Wally and three or four cigarettes for Roy, enough to make him feel a little bit sick. Then he'd take a beer out of the fridge, crack it open, drink a little, wait for Wally to wrap up his first cup of liquor and things would get beautiful.
Wally was numb enough from the liquor that he was never aware of how close Roy was until the archer was practically on top of him, and the speedster loved every second of it. He'd let the cup he'd held his whiskey in drop to the floor with a slight clatter, the last few drops dribbling out. Wally would need a second to get his bearings before he could let the tension and inhibitions completely slide away.
Roy would be close, his smoky breath hot on Wally's face, hot on his lips as he hung over the speedster, faces only an inch away from each other. "I told you it feels good."
The numbness was enough. He was young. His metabolism was high, perfect to keep away a hangover in the morning. He didn't hold his liquor well, but good enough to be semi-aware of everything around him. "And you were right." One hand reached up and traced a little circle on the archer's cheek with the pad of his thumb.
"No more bruises?" He was only asking to make sure. If he found anymore, he wasn't afraid to take care of the heart of the issue. Arrows could fix many, many problems.
"No." Wally knew his answer would draw Roy in closer. He already felt one of the archer's hands at his thigh while the other held him up so he could hover over the speedster without crushing him. "I'm being careful."
A shiver ran down his spine, and he felt the first feathery brush of Roy's lips against his own. An electric spark shot through his body like fire, like gunshot.
Then it was hot. There was the archer's warm, smoky breath on his face, his alcohol-tainted tongue in the speedster's mouth. It was so sickly sweet. The freckled boy felt a squeeze at his thigh, and Wally reached up, his hands balling up in Roy's red shirt and pulling him closer so their chests were pressed so close that they could feel each other's racing heartbeats.
Roy paused for half a second only to take a breath before diving back in; Wally never had a problem, that was the power of a runner's lungs. Between mouthfuls of each other and swallowing down oxygen, Roy managed to ask, "Is this what you wanted?" The tobacco smell hit Wally hard with his words.
The speedster felt his elder's mouth mash harder against his own, passion flowing like a river as the sparks danced on their lips. Wally tasted nicotine on Roy's lips and booze in the deepest caverns of his mouth. And he wasn't exactly sure how to answer. He kept kissing back while the heat of the moment and some form of an answer battled to keep his attention through the fogginess of the whiskey that he could still taste burning in his throat.
Roy pressed down a little harder on him, nails gripping the younger's thigh while his lips desperately begged for more, more, moremoremore...
A slight whimper came from the freckled kid as he felt the pain in his leg but he didn't care. All he knew was that it was Roy, that this was Roy all over him, that Roy was getting desperate, that Roy loved him, that it was Roy. Wally only wanted Roy. All of him.
But in his dreams of having Roy, he never thought there'd be an ounce of alcohol in his system, not a drop of booze in his blood. He expected adrenaline and love and these hot and heavy moments. This was what he wanted. But he had never wanted the liquor still burning like bile in his throat or the taste of a tobacco on Roy's lips.
"Yes." And his fists, still in Roy's shirt, pulled the archer down on top of him with all his strength, the older boy's weight coming down on the speedster. Their bodies were closer, hearts racing together, adrenaline running, tongues dancing. Wally had to take a second to catch his breath, just a quick gasp of air while Roy was sucking it down like he was taking a long draw off a cigarette. Fresh air in his lungs, the child added, "This is exactly what I wanted."
With a cocky, confident smile, Roy's eyes glimmered darkly before he pressed himself back down on Wally, their mouths mashing together once again, tongues tied up, fighting for dominance.
Roy won.
A/N: Short, but I needed this to keep developing things. Reviews make me update faster.
~Sky