Author's Note: I'm not gonna lie; this is probably the least fluffy, most depressing, and most sexual fan fiction I've written yet. My face is on fire right now, guys. I was hesitant on posting and writing this, but the idea just... flowed. It's based on something I'm kind of going through, but not exactly to this extent. At all. As a matter of fact, it's nothing like what I'm going through right now. But I digress~!
I recommend listening to "Built for Sin" by Framing Henley while reading this. That was my ultimate inspiration for this. ^/^
Another song that goes for Wally and Dick is "Undisclosed Desires" by Muse. I swear to god, those lyrics are totally their relationship. I'm serious. Look it up. Right now, muggle.
Hey! You, the one that's bothering to read my author's notes! That's an order! (bribes you with more sexy and fluffy KF/Rob fan fictions)
Between every breath, I ask myself the same question everytime; what am I doing?
As my hands wander the beautiful, flexible body beneath me; as his fingers tangle themselves in my hair, tugging lightly; as our lips melt together, moving softly, gently, so temptingly amazing, I wonder just what the hell it is I'm doing. My best friend for years now wrapped in my arms and moaning my name between kisses and pants, a voice laced with lust and desire that makes my heart race with pure, unadulterated want. His lips feel like satin, molding and working against my own so sinfully, so beautifully, so... so perfectly it makes me feel like this is where we belong; our bodies tangled together, fingers wandering, lips testing and tasting and...
God... What am I doing?
The look on his face as I peck down his jaw to his neck sets a fire inside me; I impulsively sink my teeth into the junction between his neck and shoulder, reveling in the moan he let out, the blush on his face, the lust that hazed those stunning azure eyes. One of my hands had worked its way to his nipple, a single finger flicking and teasing the small, hard nub of skin. The other slowly stroked and squeezed his thigh, the very tips of my fingers purposely brushing against the sides of his... well, dick. His moans, the way he moved his impossibly flexible body beneath my vibrating fingertips, the way he blushed and looked at me, only me, made all these nerve endings in my body shake and begin to vibrate. Just being here with him, my little Robin, made me so happy I could never bring myself to tell him.
Which brings me back to: what the hell am I doing?
We began so innocently; two best friends against the world, working together to make things right. We talked about girls together, helped each other fight the worst of battles (both emotionally and physically), we were just... there for each other. All the time. We were inseparable. Best friends, and nothing more; we occasionally flirted, teased and all the other typical "bromance" crap. But things started taking off. And now... here I am, touching and teasing the boy I've called my best friend for six years.
Tonight makes night number eight. This is the eighth time we've done this.
Every time it starts the same way; an innocent reason that leads into so much more. Sometimes he's honest about it. Other times, we lie. We pretend he's here in my room to talk about Barbara, or vent about Batman's recent working-him-to-deaths. A beautiful lie, a game we play to hide our feelings, our wants, and ultimately, our truth. He always seems so sad, a fragile little bird trying desperately to fight the east winds. Sometimes he'll cry, despite his denials about doing so. He buries his face in my chest and cries his little sapphire eyes out. And I can't help but hold him tightly, letting the little Robin fly into my arms in the west winds. I can't help but kiss him gently, pull him closer, pin him down... I'd do anything to make that frown go away, give anything to hear my little bird chirp happily.
And sometimes... this is the most I can do for him.
I just can't help myself anymore. Being around him kicks up all these loose nerves and I... I lose myself. I want him so badly; I need him to be mine. This is the most I can do. This is all I can do to show him just how much I care, that he isn't alone in this world because he has me to hold onto. Lowering my lips to a particularly sensitive spot on his neck, I quickly wrap a vibrating hand around his hardened arousal, pumping crudely and losing myself to the beautiful mewls and moans that escape his lips. The way he moans for me sets my heart ablaze; pulling my other hand away from his nipple; I gently cup his cheek and lower my lips to his with care, being sure to keep my eyes open slightly to meet those oceans.
He presses back roughly, those stunning eyes gazing back into mine, their oceanic and mesmerizing shade of blue glazed with lust and desire. They told a story, captured the essence of the moment and reflected just what exactly he was feeling; the slight amount of fear that gleamed in his eyes tore my heart in two everytime. He mouths the words he couldn't say against my lips with his; I receive the message half-heartedly and struggle to push his tongue back for dominance.
What am I doing?
His back arches and he parts from our kiss as I slowly rub my vibrating thumb into his slit, a scream flooding the air and sending shivers down my spine. I love that look on his face, so much it should be criminal; the way he moans just for me makes me think that maybe, just maybe, this moment is meant for more than lust or just for getting-off.
And as I gazed into his eyes as he reached his climax, for that long and painful moment, I pretended I was in love with him.
But in the end, all I've done is lead him on. Sure, he cuddles against me and pants with exhaustion but it's nothing. Now that the moment is over, we're back to being nothing more than two bros. The body wrapped in my arms, the one that breathed ever so gently, the one that cuddled into my chest, the one that looked up at me with so much love, so much adoration, was nothing more than that of a good friend.
A friend so close to me, he'd allow me to do this.
And as we laid together in the cold of his bedroom, I tried my hardest to ignore the tears rolling down his cheeks as he moved closer to me. I pretended not to notice he was trembling, hiccuping as he cried against my chest.
I pretended the words he'd mouthed against me, "I love you", didn't make me feel like the happiest man alive.
What have I done?
It's so... short. And sad. D':
Remember; everytime you read and review, Dick and Wally get a day closer to saying I love you.