#asterglow

1. Mahābhārata -- by Vyasa

2. Russian Folktales -- by unknown, various; compilation and foreword by E. Pomerantseva; Bengali translated version: Rush Desher Upokotha. Contains (best I could translate, considering it was translated from Russian to Bengali, and now I'm translating the titles from Bengali to English):

The Little Round Bun

The Rooster and the Bean Seed

Yellow-Combed Rooster

The Fox and the Wolf/Sister Fox and Brother Wolf

The Fox and the Stork

The Wooden-Legged Bear/The Bear's Paw

The Peasant and the Bear

The Winter House

The Sly Farmer

The Seven Year-Old

The Axe Soup

The Soldier and Death

The Gossipy Wife

The Beggar's Feast with the Overlord

Scarcity/Shortage

Father Frost

The Swan and the Girl

Wee Little Havroshechka

Sister Alyonushka and Brother Invanushka

The Frog Princess

Sorceress Vasilisa

The Firebird and Princess Vasilisa

Sivka-Burka

Prince Ivan and the Grey Wolf

The Something From Some Land (can't really figure out how to translate this properly)

Smart Little Ivan

At the Wish of a Fish

Nikita the Tanner/Nikita Kozhemyaka

Ilya Muromets' First Adventure

Ilya Muromets and Solovey the Brigand

Dobrynya Nikitich and Zmey Gorynych

Alyosha Popovich

Mikula Selyaninovich

3. The Odyssey -- by Homer

4. Ramayana -- by Valmiki

5. The Iliad -- by Homer

6. Upendrakoshire Rachonaboli -- a collection of Hindu mythology and South Asian folklore; compilation and prose by Upendrakishore Ray Chowdhuri

7. Sukumar Samagra -- the complete works of Sukumar Ray

8. Pride and Prejudice -- by Jane Austen

9. The Mediator -- by Meg Cabot

10. The Chronicles of Narnia -- by C. S. Lewis (not counting The Last Battle; I will never forgive what Lewis did to Susan)

Black sports bra. 

Skin-tight black shorts. 

Bare feet.

Her blonde hair is pulled back, but stray strands brush her face, which is damp with sweat. 

Artemis has been going at this punching bag for some time now, come to think of it. Even Conner, who's standing behind the thing as a brace, looks impressed with Artemis' focus. Occasionally he'll point something out, and she'll adjust. Every kick and every punch lands with power and precision. Once she gets into a rhythm, there's no stopping her; a constant blur of motion, she hits the bag with ferocity she usually reserves for particularly despicable criminals. One roundhouse lands so hard, Conner has to take a step back.

She's captivating. So, really, Wally doesn't blame Dick one bit for getting distracted. 

It's just that, y'know, he could have had slightly better timing, considering he's supposed to be spotting Wally at the bench.

"Dick? Little help?" Dick doesn't budge. The pressure on his chest is quickly crossing the line between uncomfortable and painful. "Dude?"

"Hm?" Dick finally looks down, and his eyes go wide behind the mask when he realizes Wally has well over 100 pounds of weight pressing against his chest. "Shit, sorry--" 

Together, they get the barbell in resting position, and Wally sits up straight, rubbing his sternum. Dick hovers over him, hands poised to reach out but unsure as to where they should go. 

He reaches to touch Dick's shoulder, trying to be reassuring. "Dude, it's fine, I'm fine--" 

But Dick jumps under Wally's hand. "No, it's not, jeez--I should have been paying more attention."

Considering we were distracted by the same thing...

But Wally doesn't say that aloud.

Artemis calls time, and Kaldur moves in to take her place. She glances over to Dick and Wally, catches them watching, and smirks. "Think one of you are up to a match?" she asks.

Dick and Wally exchange a look. Smirking, Wally waves Dick on. He's more than happy to watch. 

Dick mirrors the grin, turning back to Artemis. "If you think you can handle it," Dick responds, already moving to meet her on the sparring mats. Wally pushes himself off the bench and follows.

Artemis looks over her shoulder at him. "Should I ask why you seem so intent on watching your boyfriend spar?"

Wally meets her eyes evenly and waggles his brows. "Curious, Artie?" he shoots back.

"Well, that certainly answers the question," she responds; Dick snorts. Wally glares. Artemis, unfazed, takes a moment to redo the bindings on her hands; she looks up at Dick through her lashes as she does. "Two out of three pins wins."

Dick nods and assumes a fighting stance. "Your move."

What follows is a flurry of movement that leaves Wally with his mouth open; it's not often he gets a chance to watch Dick in action like this, against an evenly-matched opponent that moves almost as fluidly as he does. The same goes for Artemis; too often, they're up against thugs that--for all their brute strength--cannot go up against her technique, her sheer skill, and shuts them down in seconds. Going up against Dick means she gets the chance to be more creative.

Wally has to remind himself to breathe on more than one occasion.

Looking back, Wally realizes this marks the beginning of the end--the beginning of their downward spiral.

Maybe it can't be said that Wally was surprised by that night's turn of events, but he certainly wasn't expecting it. 

No, he couldn't have expected Dick to practically yank him into his room and onto the bed, couldn't have expected Dick to press his mouth against his ear, and couldn't have possibly expected the question Dick asks him.

(And yet he cannot say he is unsurprised, because he knew this was coming eventually, after what happened today in training.)

"You want her, don't you?" Dick's voice is low, and raspier than usual--puberty did wonders with Dick's vocal chords, and he loves to remind Wally every chance he gets.

Wally whines, hips pressing up and into Dick. He has the satisfaction of hearing Dick's breath catch, and now the playing field is a little more even. He takes only a moment to consider his answer; mouth just over Dick's ear, Wally replies, just as low: "I'll admit it," he says, "but only if you do."

Dick's breath catches again, and his hands tighten on Wally's shoulders, the pressure almost painful. "How?" he asks, not capable of saying much else (it doesn't matter though, because Wally knows precisely what he's asking).

Wally chuckles, and he feels Dick tense even further. He lets his hands rest on Dick's hips, rubbing his thumbs in what he hopes is a soothing gesture--he doesn't want Dick to feel ashamed for a feeling that Wally shares. "You may be able to hide it from everyone else," he says, "and you do a good job of it, admittedly. But you're forgetting," and here he nips at Dick's ear, eliciting a soft moan, "I know your tells, Dick."

He feels Dick beginning to relax. "Do you now?" he asks, and this conversation is working its way to more familiar territory: something playful, with crooked smiles and tilted eyebrows. Dick wraps his arms loosely around Wally's shoulders--not gripping, but keeping Wally in all the same. "Care to explain?"

Wally's hands shift, moving inward so they brush over Dick's thighs. Dick's legs give way under the touch, spreading open to give Wally more freedom to move. "You work so hard to keep a blank face," Wally says, "and in that regard I think only Bats could beat you." He's rubbing rhythmic circles now, going over the sensitive skin again and again. Dick's breathing is shallow. His eyes don't waver from Wally's, blue holding green.

Wally almost gets distracted, caught up in the mounting heat pressing in on them, but Dick shifts, bringing him back. He continues: "Watching her, you go completely still. I'm not talking about standing still, I'm talking Batman-as-gargoyle still--"

"Please stop mentioning Batman," Dick breathes, and his hips are moving in barely noticeable circles against Wally's groin. "It's decidedly distracting, to say the least."

Wally squeezes Dick's leg, rendering him silent again. "Duly noted. Now, where was I... right, still. It's like you're worried she'll turn around and catch you looking if you move even the slightest inch." He lets his hands start drifting up Dick's thighs, closer and closer to the bulge of his pants. "You watch," he continues, "you watch very closely, and I can see your muscles tense when she does something impressive, or risky, or stretches a certain way."

"And finally," he says, and finally rests a hand on Dick's cock, and by now he's so worked up he bucks hard into Wally's groin, and they both gasp. Still fighting for breath, Wally says: "Today--today you were completely fixated on her. I'd have to be blind not to see it. Then you jumped when I touched your shoulder afterward. And you can't tell me that the sparring match wasn't doing it for you."

Dick is still panting, but that doesn't stop him from speaking. "Guess I gave myself away, then."

Wally smirks. "Just a little." He reaches around so he can get a good grip on Dick's waistband. His hands idle there for a moment, and he meets Dick's eyes. "So what gave me away, huh?" he asks, waggling his brows. 

Dick's brows arch, and now he mirrors Wally's smirk. "You really want me to tell you?" 

"Yeah--I mean, I just gave you a full breakdown, so you might as well--"

"It was after your sparring match with her the other day." And Wally remembers, remembers very clearly the way he and Artemis spent most of that match mere inches away from each other, all close punches blocking with their forearms, and then they were suddenly on the ground, rolling and grappling, neither willing to be pinned without a fight. Artemis ended up on top, to roughly no one's surprise and to Wally's simultaneous discomfort and arousal. 

Which brings them to now. "And after--well, you forgot the bathroom isn't exactly soundproof," Dick says, and now he brings his mouth to hover just outside Wally's ear. "Dude, if you'd just come to me I would have been happy to help you with your problem."

And then Dick outright grinds his hips into Wally's, finally dragging out the moan Wally had been subduing. "Now," Dick says, hands starting to roam over Wally's body. "What exactly are we going to do about this mutual problem of ours?"

"I thought you were supposed to be the smart one," Wally replies, trying (and failing--miserably) to hold onto his mental faculties.

"You wouldn't have started this conversation if you didn't have something in mind," Dick says, his voice drifting back into a lower register. Wally would protest and say Dick is the one that started this, but finding his voice proves to be a struggle. Dick undeos the buttons of Wally's shirt--not slowly, but deliberately, letting his hands linger and his fingers brush over Wally's skin as he goes. 

Wally feels his cock twitch. "I did have a few ideas," he manages to say. Without any warning, he gets a good hold on Dick before proceeding to roll them both over. He hovers above Dick, still pressed between his open legs. He smirks. "But it's going to require some... imagination."

Dick arches a brow, and despite his position (flat on his back, his dark hair a mussed tangle on the white sheets) it loses none of its effect. 

"Bear with me, dude," Wally says, hands drifting down Dick's sides. When he comes to the place where the armored shirt ends and pants begin, he gets a good grip on the material and starts peeling down, exposing Dick's muscled legs inch by inch. Dick is breathing slow, noticeable breaths through his nose. His eyelashes flutter, but his gaze never leaves Wally, and in turn Wally doesn't avert his eyes from Dick's until he's finally got Dick's pants off. 

He shifts upward until he and Dick are eye-to-eye, and then he leans down and presses his lips against Dick's. Immediately, his hands come up to tangle in Wally's hair, pulling him closer, letting himself moan now that the sound is caught by Wally's throat. After a few seconds of give and take, Wally pulls away to fix his mouth to the spot where Dick's jaw and ear meet. Dick's fingers clench, and the sensation on his scalp would be painful if it weren't so urgent.

After a few seconds (and Wally wonders if there will be a mark there tomorrow), he pulls away and whispers: "Close your eyes." Dick furrows his brow, but hesitates for only a second before he acquiesces. "I need you to let go; let yourself imagine that it isn't me that's touching you." Dick goes still for a second; Wally knows the implications are clear. 

Smiling now, Wally runs his hands over Dick's chest, until they come to the hem of his shirt, whereupon he begins tugging it upward, making sure his knuckles press into Dick's skin as he does. Dick shifts to allow the shirt over his head and arms, until he's finally naked but for the jockstrap still fixed around his waist. Given how Wally himself is straining against his, he figures Dick is dealing with a similar situation. Practically reading his mind, Dick does the work for him, shoving the jockstrap down--cup and all--and tossing it across the room.

"Please, Wally--" Dick pants, his composure starting to show cracks.

"Mm," Wally hums. "All in due time, but remember what I said: it's not me touching you."

Dick grunts in response, but when Wally's thumb rolls over his nipple the sound turns into a groan. Not even waiting to catch his breath, Dick asks: "You think this is gonna work?"

Wally bends, and this time he mouths Dick's nipple. He rolls his tongue over the sensitive skin, then pulls away. "We're going to give it our best shot," he mutters.

And with that, he's ready to start. 

He uses both hands this time, one for each nipple, and takes his time--rolling, brushing, and an occasional tweak have Dick fisting the sheets and unable to speak. "Imagine it's Artemis doing this to you, Dick," Wally says, letting one hand drift across Dick's chest. "She's toying with you, trying to figure out what you like--" Dick gasps "--and every so often she'll hit that one spot--" 

And Wally does hit that spot (just over his right hip), and Dick's back arches, hips shooting up and into Wally's groin. Wally bites his lip to subdue his moan, but Dick has no such qualms, letting out a sound that goes straight to Wally's cock. 

"And you know Artemis," he breathes. "She'll take great pleasure in finding out what makes you tick, what drives you positively wild." Wally drags just the very tips of his fingers over Dick's abdominals, down and down until he hits the spot where hair starts to grow, and Dick shudders in a way that courses through his entire body, unable to help himself. Wally returns his attention to Dick's nipples, knowing that he must be going crazy from the slow build Wally's putting him through.

"She'll enjoy every second of pleasing you, enjoy unraveling you, because she's only seen the composed Boy Wonder or the genius Dick Grayson, and this version of Dick is something she's never seen before. Flustered, unable to speak--it's a sight to behold." That much I can assure you, he almost says, but he lets it float away between the sounds of Dick's gasping and the light, rustling sound of the sheets under Dick's undulating body. 

Finally, he moves his hands down to Dick's legs, pressing the inside of his thighs so his legs spread impossibly wide. He runs his hands up and down the sensitive skin there as he muses: "Would she listen to me when it came to pleasuring you? I wonder if she would actually do anything I suggested..." Dick bites his lip. "Or would she find something else to try?" Wally can't help but smirk at the idea of him giving Artemis orders.

Dick has a similar thought. "Like she'd--" he sucks in a hard breath when Wally's hand gets dangerously closer to his cock, but continues: "Like she'd listen to you of all people."

But wouldn't it be something if she did? Wally let the thought play out in his mind, let himself imagine Artemis using every piece of advice Wally gave her, letting him watch her pleasure Dick the same way he would. A thrill runs down his spine, more blood traveling to his cock.

"Mm, I dunno, I think she might," Wally says, and with that one statement he puts the idea in Dick's head, and he knows it won't be leaving anytime soon. And, based on the breathy moan that falls from Dick's lips, he enjoys it as much as Wally. "Imagine her bending over your cock, your head in my lap. I'm holding your wrists and you're squeezing my hands so hard because she's doing everything perfectly, just the way you like it best, because I'm giving her every little instruction."

Wally finally wraps his hand around Dick's cock, and the sound Dick makes is part moan and part sob and 100 percent relief. 

"A twist of the wrist on the upstroke..." he continues, reaching a steady pace now. "Not too much or too little pressure--just enough." Dick keens, the sound needy and beseeching. 

"Wally--"

"Just like that," Wally whispers. "She'd do well with encouragement, I think."

There's a fine sheen of sweat coating Dick's skin now, and Wally bends to run his tongue along the bone of Dick's hips, hands holding him still so he doesn't thrust into Wally's jaw. 

Wally's mouth drifts ever closer to Dick's cock, and he asks: "Would you want Artemis to suck your dick?"

"God--" Dick says, choking on air. "Yes."

"Tell her," Wally whispers against Dick's skin. "Tell her what you want, Dick. She's been doing so well all this time, imagine what it'd be like."

A shudder rolls down Dick's spine, shaking them both. "Please--I want her to suck me."

And that's what Wally was waiting for. He finally takes Dick's cock in his mouth, slowly--just the head at first. He pulls off and resumes stroking. "She takes a few seconds to gauge your reaction," he murmurs. "She wants to make sure it's good for you, wants to take care of you. She knows how much pressure you're under everyday."

"She's doing just fine," Dick mutters. "I need it, I need it so bad--" a moan cuts him off because Wally's lips are on his cock again, and he thrusts into Wally's mouth, unable to help himself. "Please."

Wally hums around Dick's erection for a few seconds before he pulls off. He strokes the back of his hand against Dick, slow and feather-light. Enough to keep Dick on the edge, but not enough to push him over. 

It's just that Wally needs his mouth to speak. "Do you think she would swallow?" Wally asks. 

Dick has no words; his eyes remained screwed shut, chest heaving beneath Wally's other hand. 

"Maybe if I did it first--I don't think she would let that challenge go unmet."

Without another word, he goes to retake Dick's cock in his mouth. But Dick has something else in mind. He sits up and takes ahold of Wally's shoulders, pushing him back wordlessly. At first, Wally is worried he said something Dick objects to, but then he catches the mischievous expression on his partner's face. 

"Hands and knees, Wally," Dick whispers.

Wally considers saying no, to keep his plan on track, but ultimately he decides to trust Dick's idea--whatever it is. He situates himself on the bed, facing away from Dick; he looks over his shoulder to see his partner has positioned himself behind Wally's ass, considering it as if it were something new. Which is strange, considering Dick is quite familiar with Wally's backside. 

"Uh, dude?" Wally asks. "You all right back there?"

Dick's eyes shift to meet Wally's, grinning, and it's--well, it's downright predatory. 

Wally shivers.  

Dick finally answers: "Just thinking," he murmurs, before bending at the waist and taking Wally's waist into his hands. And without any further warning, Dick presses his tongue against the tight ring of muscle of Wally's entrance. 

He bucks into Dick, moaning. "Ah, Dick--"

"Shh," Dick says into the cleft of Wally's ass, and even that sound has vibrations that Wally feels all the way in his toes. "Just be quiet--pretend it's Artemis back here."

He remains there, mouth hovering over Wally's anus, so he can sometimes feel Dick's lip brush against the skin there when he speaks. "This would be stranger to her, I think," he murmurs. "Definitely not typical penetration. I'd have to tell her that rimming you--" he licks a stripe between Wally's cheeks "--isn't much different than me eating her out." Dick hums, considering. "Mm, eating her out might be enough to convince her, now that I think about it. Would you like to watch me eat her out, Wally?"

The image floods his mind: Artemis, laid out on the bed, hair a golden spray beneath her as she writhed on the bed. She'd have one hand clutching at a nearby pillow, the other tangled in Dick's dark hair, urging him on ("Boy Wonder is an understatement..."). Wally more than anyone is very familiar with how talented Dick is with his mouth, and the thought of him turning those skills onto Artemis' folds, methodically working her away from being in control and demanding, and into an arching-off-the-bed, incoherent mess--

He didn't think any more blood could travel to his erection, but evidently he was mistaken, because he feels himself grow even more light-headed.

"I'll take your lack of response as a yes, then," Dick says, and then his tongue has returned to Wally's ass, licking and probing at tender skin. 

Every so often he'll add his entire mouth; his lips press and suck at the skin in his cleft, until Wally is falling apart, incapable of speaking and barely capable of breathing. 

"Just like that, Wally," Dick murmurs. "She'd love working you open, you know? I don't think she would quite believe it at first, even after what I told her." He reaches over to the bedside table, and the next thing Wally hears is the snap of the cap on the bottle of lube popping open. Wally looks over his shoulder just as Dick begins to press a finger in, assisted by the lube and spit already there (that Dick had thrusted in with his tongue a few times already doesn't hurt, either). Despite the prep, though, it's not exactly a  loose fit, and Wally chokes on air at the intrusion that's quickly shifting from foreign-pressing-strange to agh-yes-more-please-more. 

"Mmf," Wally grunts, breath coming in pants now. "The fingering?" he asks.

Dick doesn't have to ask what he means. "Oh, she'd love that, too. She'd really get to see you come apart, like I am right now, and trust me when I tell you that it's something else." Dick runs his free hand down Wally's back, and he shudders as he does. "Everything in you is like a spring right now, coiled and tight, and it's lovely.

"But, see, unlike you," Dick breathes, "I'd let her experiment. I'd let her figure things out for herself, for the most part--I think she'd learn better that way." He pauses. He adds another finger, scissoring gently. Despite Wally's ensuing moan, he continues: "Not to say your methods are wrong, exactly, just that--" he reaches suddenly for Wally's cock, and Wally bites his lip to keep a moan back because he wants--needs-- to hear what Dick is saying "--just that it allows for a little more surprise, and you always react best when you don't know what's coming."

He gives Wally's erection a few strokes--firm, not quick but not slow--before pulling away again. He adds another finger, stretching him even wider. "Maybe I'd guide her hands every so often, though--let her know your precise weak spots." 

Wally is bucking into Dick's hand now, the combination of his voice and fingers driving him past insanity. "Please," he begs.

Dick curls his fingers at just the right spot, and with a groan Wally's arms give out, sending him face first into the pillows. "Who are you asking, Wally?"

Oh, god.

"Please," Wally repeats. "Artemis, please, more."

The tip of Dick's penis presses against Wally. "Ready?"

Wally nods once, and that's all Dick needs; he pushes in, slowly at first, making sure Wally stretches out around him before pressing further. 

Dick is taking long, steady breaths as he goes. "You know, after fingering you, I don't think she would take much convincing to fuck you herself."

Wally's breath hitches. "You mean--?" he asks, even though he's pretty sure already.

"I do." Dick leans over, pressing his chest into Wally's back (they share a moan at the shift in angle, the way it presses Dick's cock into Wally even further), and whispers: "I think she'd appreciate a good strap-on, don't you?" 

He kisses and mouths at the nape of Wally's neck, his breath mingling with the sweat there. Wally, meanwhile, is at a complete loss, and chooses to press his face into the pillows, letting them muffle the sounds of his groans as Dick continues to push into him. 

Once he's fully-seated, Dick pauses and straightens a little to catch his breath. Wally looks over his shoulder and feels the oxygen leave his lungs in a whoosh. Dick's hair is beyond mussed--it's wrecked, almost as much as Wally feels. His eyes are blown wide and have darkened several shades, but the focus is still there: brilliant blue, fixed right on him. Catching him looking, Dick smiles and bends back down. "Maybe she'd be a little hesitant, sure, but you beg and beg," Dick says, lips brushing Wally's ear again. Finally, he starts to pull his hips back, almost exiting Wally before pushing back in. He's slow at first, but as Wally adjusts, he starts to pick up the pace. "Maybe I fuck you for a minute, let her watch so she can see that this is good for you." 

"So good--" Wally mutters into the pillow. 

"And, well, when you're making sounds like that," Dick says, "I don't think she can take much issue, do you?" He's at a regular pace now, hips hitting Wally's ass every time he thrusts in. Wally can feel the pressure building in his balls, can feel himself getting close. And all the while, despite the fact he has to be feeling the same thing, Dick keeps talking. "And I don't think it'd take her long to figure it out, do you? And you've seen her body--that's part of why we're here, after all--she could go for awhile, I think.

"Having you at her mercy--" and now Dick's sentences start cutting off. "God, she'd love it--love being in control. She'd be fascinated--watching you come undone. She's fucking you, filling you up, and you just keep asking for more. She loves the arch in your back, loves seeing your fists clenched in the sheets, mesmerized by what's happening, all because--because the person going in and out of your tight ass is her."

Wally clenches the pillow in his hands, choking on the litany of curses that fight to leave his mouth all at once. "Fucking--" he grits out, and then he gives up on words and starts chanting names, and he's so gone it varies between the two of them, between Dick and Artemis until it all blends together. 

Somehow Dick's voice breaks through the haze. "We'd have to get her one that rubs against her when she moves," Dick says. "Or something--something open at the back, so I could enter her from behind." And isn't that the image. Wally feels his breath catch at the thought of Artemis pushing into him, and then Dick pushing into her. Artemis would stop for a second, taking a second to adjust to Dick. One roll of the hips and both Wally and Dick would be moaning, and she'd smirk. Dick, not to be outdone,  would kiss it right off her face as he started thrusting into her.

Wally can practically feel it: every time Dick moved, so would Artemis, and Jesus the thought of somehow being fucked by them both, even if indirectly is almost too much for him (Dick must feel it, too, because he grips the base of Wally's cock for a quick second, stymying his climax). 

"I want her so bad," Wally whispers, barely audible over the sound of Dick's skin hitting his.

Dick presses himself into Wally's back. The angle means the strokes are shorter, but it doesn't matter because it means Dick goes even deeper. And then he adjusts Wally's hips, and suddenly Dick manages to hit that spot, and Wally doesn't even try to hold back the resultant yell. He can feel everything--the definition of Dick's chest against him, Dick's lips grazing his neck, hot breath fanning against the skin there, Dick's hips coming against him each time he thrusts in.

"I know, Wally," Dick breathes. He puts his hands over Wally's and entwines their fingers. "I do too, God, it's terrible how much--" he chokes on the words, and Wally can feel Dick's body growing tense around him. 

He's very close. 

Wally braces himself on one forearm before reaching back with a hand to grip Dick's thigh--pressing, urging. "C'mon, just a little more--" he grits out. "Imagine how tight she is, Dick, and the entire time she's whispering the dirtiest things--calls you a good boy, tells you she should have done this sooner, how envious she is of you for having me to yourself all this time, because I feel so good underneath her--"

And whatever edge Dick was teetering on is gone now. He squeezes Wally's hand tight and the rest of his body goes rigid. His thrusts--so steady two seconds ago--become erratic as he climaxes.

After a moment, he pulls out. Wally lets himself fall to the bed, rolling over so he stares at the ceiling. It only takes a few seconds for Dick to sidle over to straddle Wally. "Your turn," he whispers, rolling his hips into Wally's groin.

"Mm." Wally pushes his hips up, craving friction, contact, anything that could get him off. "Yes, please," he says.

"How do you want it?" Dick asks.

Wally considers. Finally: "Just like this. Just--" he takes Dick's hands in his and moves them to Dick's hips, taking just a little more control. "Just like this, okay? Talk to me."

"That I can do," Dick responds. He's quiet for a moment, and Wally takes the chance to really look at Dick. Sweat lends Dick's body a light sheen, and his eyes--usually so focused--are hazy. 

A low, contemplative sound rolls from Dick's throat. Then: "I think by this point she might just be watching," he says. "Assuming she came once while fucking you, from the strap-on, and then I made her come again--"

"You're very confident in your abilities," Wally says.

He gets a particularly rough roll of the hips in response, and he bucks into Dick with a barely-stifled moan. 

"Mm, I say I have good reason to be," Dick responds (and Wally knows he's in no place to deny that). He tilts his head, smirking, as he lets his eyes roll over Wally's body. Blown wide as they are, Wally finds his gaze heady, and the air somehow grows even thicker, lining Wally's lungs. Breathing becomes an olympic task.

Dick seems to have no intentions of letting him draw a full breath any time soon, either. "Now, where was I?" he asks. "Right. Artemis, watching. Or do you think she'd do little things?" Dick tweaks one of Wally's nipples to serve as an example. "And I think we've already established she probably has a dirty mouth. Maybe she'd be satisfied just whispering in your ear."

Wally isn't going to let him get away without expounding on that particular idea. "Such as?"

"What a good boy," Dick murmurs, pushing into Wally's groin in a way that his balls roll over Wally's cock. "Such a good boy, taking it nice and slow like that. You like to be drawn out, don't you, pulled tighter and tighter, wound up like a toy, until you're ready to snap and break into a million pieces."

Wally gives up on regular breathing, air coming to him in gasps and moans. Every time he attempts to speak, he chokes on the words. Dick is relentless, and yet he maintains a pace that keeps Wally at a proverbial precipice, so close and yet not giving that final push he so desperately needs.

Dick seems to realize what he's thinking (though at this point it's less like thinking and more like feeling). "I think I'd let her call the shots on this one," he says. "Let her decide whether I go faster or rougher." He accentuates the thought with another insistent thrust. "Or whether I take it just a little slower, see how far she can stretch you before you snap." He leans back, his movements becoming languorous.

Wally is practically dizzy, but somehow he latches onto an idea. "Or maybe she'd be talking to you instead," Wally responds. "Maybe she'd want to see how quickly you can get it back up, to see if we can get you to come again." 

Dick bites his lower lip, breathing heavily through his nose. Still, though, his pace doesn't falter. He reaches down and takes their cocks in his hand, and he's still slick enough that the friction is just on the side of pleasant. Wally sighs and arches; the line extends from the small of his back all the way through his neck. 

"After all this," Dick says as their cocks slide against each other, "I think the one thing we've come to an agreement on is that--" he sucks in a deep breath when his balls brush against Wally's "--that she would be calling the shots the entire time."

"Oh, God," Wally mutters. "Yes. Yes."

Dick lifts Wally's leg up and pushes hard. Wally's spasm consumes his entire body, and he reaches blindly for Dick's free hand and clutches it like a lifeline. "Right there, yes, just like--"

Dick rubs his thumb over the tip of Wally's erection, thrusts one more time, and that--

Wally's vision goes white as his climax washes over him. Even as he releases, Dick doesn't stop moving, still moving his hips against him. Pleasure rolls through Wally's body as if it were pouring into him, pulsing and radiating as it reaches every last nerve ending--right down to the fingertips. 

Finally, he puts both hands on Dick's hips, bringing him to a standstill. In one motion, he pulls his leg down and rolls so he and Dick are facing each other, side-by-side on the bed. He buries his face in the crook of Dick's neck and shoulder and just inhales for a few moments. Dick runs his hands up and down Wally's back, fingertips ghosting across his sweaty skin. He hums an indistinct tune, filling the silence.

"If only," Dick murmurs.

It is not the voice of someone consumed by sexual fantasies.

No, there is more to this shared longing than simple lust; Wally is grateful Dick views it the same way. To them both, Artemis is more than an object of release--far, far more. This, though--this is one place they feel her absence strongest. She has become a fixture in their lives, so to be here without her feels as though a piece is missing. She should be beside them, right now, trading half-hearted, muttered barbs and half-asking, half-telling them to play with her hair. She should be between them, tangling their legs together and sighing contentedly, knowing she is wanted and appreciated and loved. 

Wally sighs into Dick's skin, wrapping his arms around him as he does. "We could always ask," Wally says.

Dick idly runs his hands through Wally's hair. "Someday, maybe," he answers. He kisses the crown of Wally's head before turning in his arms, so his back rests against Wally's chest. Wally links their hands together.

There had been a time when Dick, newly arrived at the manor, had become so absorbed in performing on the trapeze Bruce had installed for him that he briefly forgot about what happened to his family. The comedown from that had not been pleasant. Incidents involving that particular memory had dropped sharply once he became Robin and helped Batman cart Tony Zucco off to prison, and most of his subsequent issues involved minor situations such as time passing or the last time he ate.

This time, Dick was on his computer in his apartment, trying in vain to track Wally for what had to be the hundredth time since repelling the Reach. His computer picked up on energy trails, mostly from the other speedsters, plus a few old ones from Wally. Stopping locations were denoted by dots. Wally would’ve hated that, just like he’d complained about Robin’s hacking being boring, which had inspired him to make the silly Robin icons he had used in his hacking since.

Dick could hear Wally in his head now, saying, “Dude, those are so boring!”

Dots really were boring. Bruce used dots, because he wasn’t interested in putting in extra coding just to make something look cool. Dick preferred everything he worked with to have a little flair. The fact that he hadn’t come up with something cooler than soulless, boring dots was truly a travesty.

So Dick started making some Wally— well, more like Kid Flash—icons. It didn’t take long for him to become totally immersed in his work. It also didn’t take long for his work to become ridiculously frustrating because Wally’s hair was apparently impossible to get right, and he was so focused on fixing it that he didn’t notice when the sun went down and left him in the dark with nothing but the computer screen’s light. But he finally got it right enough at least and worked on the different colouring. By the time he was done, he had a red vibrating Kid Flash icon that would flick to a green, grinning Kid Flash when an action was complete.

Dick let out a whoop as let leapt out of his chair and snatched up his phone, hitting speed-dial without a single thought. He was so utterly delirious with excitement that he didn’t even wait for the call to connect properly before he burst out:

“Dude! Dude! KF. DUDE! I just did the COOLEST THING—”

“Hey guys! It’s Wally! Leave me a message—”

Dick froze, his mind finally catching up to his actions, as Wally’s voicemail played out in his ear, because it was just him, alone in his dark bedroom with no company except for the little blinking Wally-lights on the computer screen. And that might just be how it was going to be for a long time.

Possibly forever.

Dick let his phone drop to the floor, collapsing back into his chair. The soft sound of the computer whirred in his ears and he lost himself in it, becoming nothing but a pair of ears, no thoughts, no grief, nothing. The phone fell silent; it must’ve hung up when he dropped it. Not that it mattered.

His ringtone cut through his focus. He dived for his phone, not looking at the caller ID or even bothering to catching himself before he landed in a heap on the carpet.

Wally's voice crackled in his ear. “Dude, what'd you hang up for?”

Dick’s heart leapt into his throat. What—

“Dick? You there?” Wally said after Dick didn’t respond. Dick, for his part, was busy trying to remember how to breathe. Was this real?

“Wally,” he choked. “Is that... oh my God. Wally.”

Wally chuckled. “That's my name. What's up?”

“What's up?” Dick repeated incredulously. “What are you—what’s the last thing you remember?”

“Uh...” Wally drew out the vowel. “We got home from crashing the Light's summit and Arty and I totally—”

“Wally,” Dick said sharply, “I don't need the details. You're missing a huge chunk of your memory. Where are you?”

“I'm at the apartment in Palo Alto,” Wally replied. “Why? What did I miss?”

Dick let out a long breath, begging his hands to stop shaking. “A lot, dude. Like you saving the world and then vanishing in front of everyone. We thought you were dead."”

Wally let out a yelp. “What do you—oh man.”

“Calm down,” Dick interrupted. “I'm at my apartment. How quickly can you get to Blüdhaven?”

Wally didn’t bother responding and hung up instead. Dick cupped his phone in both of his hands—stop shaking, god damn it—and waited it out. He wasn’t sure how much time passed when he finally heard a knock on the door and shouted for the visitor to enter.

Wally, still decked out in his sunny yellow suit, found him in his bedroom. “Oh, hey, Dick. What are you doing on the floor?”

Dick's laugh was closer to a bark, or a punch in the face, and he wasn’t sure his legs would support him if he tried to get up.

Wally crouched down to his level, reaching out to touch his cheek. “How—how long was I gone?”

Dick closed his eyes, but a jolt of fear that Wally would disappear made him open them again. “Three months.”

Wally's lips parted, barely visible in the dim light given off by the computer screen, and formed a perfect 'O'. Dick sensed more than saw his throat working in silence, and reached up to grasp the speedster's wrist.

“We've got to contact the League,” he said quietly. Wally's mouth slowly shut as he nodded, leaned down and buried his face in Dick's neck, swearing softly. “But it can wait,” Dick offered, tangling his fingers in that lovely orange hair.

“I... yeah,” Wally said at last. “Thanks. Jesus Christ. I'm don't even...” He trailed off, wriggling further into Dick's personal space. Dick let him, even as his heart was collapsing in on itself.

“What about—what about Artemis?”

Wally shook his head. It felt wrong, snuggling up in the dark like this, when the guy's own girlfriend didn’t have a clue he was okay. Dick let his head rest on top of Wally's, mentally chanting he's taken, he's taken, he's taken.

Something wet touched Dick's neck, startling him. “Dude, are you licking me or crying?”

“Shut up,” Wally said thickly, drawing in a shuddering breath. Crying it is. “What the hell do I do?”

“Shh,” Dick replied, wrapping his arms tightly around him. “You're going to stay here tonight. In the morning, I'll call Batman and we’ll deal with this. Okay?”

Wally lifted his head, the computer light catching the liquid on his cheeks and in his eyes. “Okay.”

Dick totally didn’t expect the feeling of something soft on his cheek, like lips. Well, not like lips, since they actually were lips. Wally’s lips.

“Wally,” Dick said sternly.

“Shut up,” Wally repeated. “Please.” Dick shut up, inwardly growling at his heart to quit dancing because this didn’t mean anything. Wally was just freaking out and Dick was the only person around to comfort him. The feeling of soft lips on his own successfully shut up him inner protestations as well.

Dick sighed into the kiss and Wally sighed back. When did the speedster end up in his lap? Dick’s heart was kicking his conscience's ass right now. Well, it isn't like he initiated this, right? And if Wally regretted it in the morning they could both just pretend it didn't happen. Just go back to being best friends. Dick could go back to loving Wally silently and alone. Dick stopped thinking before he made himself cry as well. It was bad enough that one of them was in tears. He didn’t think either of them could handle another.

Time shattered as the two boys clawed at each other, nipping at each other's lips and laughing softly into their mouths. Dick decided he wouldn’t initiate anything—it all has to be Wally. That was the only way he could be okay with this. Wally dragged him upright, the acrobat's long-forgotten phone clattering to the floor again. Dick let Wally shove him down onto the bed, divested of his shirt. Wally pressed against him, also shirtless, his breaths coming in pants.

Dick put a hand to Wally's chest to slow him down. “Dude. Where are we going with this?”

Wally groaned softly, dragging his teeth along Dick's jugular. Dick let out a high-pitched moan that would embarrass him if it were anyone else hovering above him.

“Wally, Wally, seriously. I don't want to take advantage of you.”

“You're not,” Wally replied, pressing a kiss to the pulse point below Dick's jaw.

“But, Artemis...” Wally shushed him with another kiss. Artemis was going to murder him, Dick thought, but he was surprisingly okay with that right now. He was no blushing virgin and he knew he had a bit of a reputation—which was only partly warranted, thank you very much—but he had never been a proponent of cheating. Then again, he’d never been in this position with Wally before. Ah, to hell with it. He’d deal with the consequences in the morning.

Wally trailed kisses down Dick's chest, down his stomach, and nipped at his hipbone. Dick could barely make out his expression in the dark, but at least he isn’t crying anymore. That would make things a hell of a lot worse.

“I love you, Wally,” Dick said quietly, brushing the speedster’s fringe aside. Wally offered him a smile as he unzipped Dick’s jeans.

“You should’ve told me that years ago, Dumbass Wonder.”

Dick’s laugh quickly pitched upwards as Wally palmed his growing erection through his briefs, before sliding his jeans down to his ankles. Wally managed to remove his own while Dick was distracted, making Dick surge with pride that his high-speed fine motor skills were still improving.

“You got any, uh, supplies?” asked Wally.

“No lube,” Dick replied. “Sorry.”

Wally grinned at him, his teeth glinting in the dim, bluish light, and climbed back up to press his lips against the man beneath him again. Their bodies intertwined, their eyes slid shut. Dick gasped as Wally rolled his hips against his own, and the speedster instantly reclaimed his lips.

This closeness—the sensation of skin against skin, lips against lips, breathing shared air—Dick had long ago accepted he would never have this with Wally. God, this felt like some vivid dream, like the ones Dick used to have after exposure to Ivy’s creepy pheromones. His stomach lurched at the thought of waking up to find none of this is real, that Wally was still dead, that Dick was still alone, and it shook him to his core.

It had shaken him so much that Wally noticed and pulled back. “Dick?”

“I’m fine,” Dick lied, but the tremor in his voice gave him away. The smile had vanished from Wally’s face, but Dick drank in his features anyway. If this wasn’t real, he wanted to remember every detail anyway. God knows it was the only way he’s going to get through the rest of his life without him.

Wally cupped his cheek, his eyes gentle. “What is it? Am I being too pushy?”

“No!” Dick said quickly. “No. I just…” He was not going to cry. “I missed you, that’s all. Please.” He propped himself up on his elbows. “Touch me.”

Wally obliged and Dick let himself get lost in the little sensations, the feel of Wally’s lips on his, his breath on his skin, his hands sliding down his hips and below the waistband of his briefs. Dick bucked into the hand that wrapped around him, biting down on Wally’s lower lip hard enough to draw blood. Dick gasped words into the speedster’s skin, some in English, some in other languages, all with the same meaning. Wally never repeated them, but Dick could live with that. He had to.

While Wally couldn’t reciprocate verbally, Dick was more than able to do so physically, pulling down Wally’s briefs—he usually wore boxers as a civilian, but never when in uniform—and touching and squeezing and pulling in just the right way to make Wally bite into the acrobat’s shoulder.

They came together like that, Dick shouting his feelings all over again while Wally’s breathing stuttered and he let out a long, drawn out curse before collapsing on top of him.

Dick smiled, revelling in the boneless languor and Wally’s warm and comforting weight. He whispered his love into Wally’s hair—there was not a place on Wally’s body that hadn’t received it—and was no longer afraid of closing his eyes.