"I like you."

Roy's face doesn't twitch. His eyebrows don't furrow together or draw apart. He doesn't cross his feet, or stomp, or shove back in his chair; he doesn't make a sound or indicate any emotional tic.

"…okay," he answers flatly after a long moment. Silence breadths the seconds ticking away by the apartment's ridiculously loud, secondhand-looking clock nailed above the sink.

Wally swallows hard, leaning from the other end of the counter and superspeed-fiddling with the untucked end of his flannel shirt. He catches the faint scent of burning fabric and stops rubbing his two self-heating fingers between it. He waits expectantly for the long stretch of seven point nine seconds. Um… isn't this the part where the other person elaborates on why or why not this works…?

"I mean, wevebeenthroughsomuch-andIfeellikeyougetmeyouknow—"


It comes. It finally comes.

Roy explains to him with similar emotional flatness, "I'm…not gay."

His expression hovers into one somewhat troubled as the other boy makes a small, choked exclamation to himself and then covers his mouth with a freckled hand. Wally's fingers convulse over his tightened lips. They skim down, and he pulls his hand away to offer Roy a frighteningly cheery smile when the older boy stands up, walking over and letting his hand fall on Wally's shoulder. "You alright?"

Wally lets out a breathy laugh, dropping his eyes. Stinging. "Yeah, yeah, I'm great."

Roy makes a disbelieving noise.

And Wally shrugs him off.

"Any reason you're crying then?"

"I'm…not crying."

Something wet lands on Wally's palm, and he stubbornly wipes his flannel sleeve under the damp space of his leaking nose, blinking out where everything blurs. More wet. More warmth.


Roy's hand returns, clasping Wally's elbow and guiding him away to face the shitty and old television in the apartment's living room. Wally sinks into the couch. Roy's familiar weight settles near him.

"Supernatural's gonna air in forty-five minutes. We still haven't made the kettle corn…"

Roy stops, and slides his hand up into Wally's hair benevolently.

"Let's talk about everything tomorrow, kid."

"You're straight," Wally confirms, red-eyed and grimly calm. He stares dumbfound when Roy shakes his head, eyebrows furrowing.

"I'm not anything." Roy sighs, shifting and curling his sweatpants-legs to the couch cushion. "Or…I guess I just don't like a lot of people like that."

Wally's face breaks into a real, wet smile.


Roy smiles back without seeming offended, chuckling, and he punches at his companion who punches in retaliation. Roy's muscular, warm arm hooks around Wally's neck — they move no closer.

"You're gonna make someone happy," he says with unabashed honesty — and Roy's not much for it, or for comforting someone — but Wally's heart beats. Beats and it's silly like thwack thwack.

Roy adds, flipping on the television, "Someone who will bring out all the better parts of you and treat you like you're the most amazing person on the planet."

Wally's head lays back, eyes to the peeling, olive drab paint of the ceiling.

It's nice to hear it. Even if isn't a one hundred probability. Even if he just got his heart squished.

He trusted Roy.



So there's a bajillion slash stories, and I have NOTHING against slash, I -like- slash, slash is fine, but I was thinking:
What are the chances, really?
So I want a story in which person 1 professes their love to person 2 who is the same gender and person 2 reacts. Either a gentle, "Sorry, but I'm not gay," or a full out homophobic explosion (although I really can't see that, myself, but it could happen, right?)
Of course, this prompt could obviously work even if person 2 was gay - they simply weren't attracted in turn. But I kind of want the 'not gay' reaction.