Disclaimer: (Goodness, I keep forgetting to put these things in). So obviously, if I owned Young Justice, we would be seeing new episodes. Yesterday.
The white walls of the infirmary are so cold and unwelcoming, she almost turns around and goes straight back where she came. But he's sitting in here, somewhere, trying to tend to his wound on his own and it doesn't sit well with her, so she continues on.
He's sitting on the last bed, attempting to staunch the blood flow around the protrusion in his shoulder. She stands across from him, and he pretends not to notice, struggling to remove the offending shard. The blood is crusting a little bit, but she knows it's deep, and something squirms in her gut and she flinches. Walking decisively over, she grabs the cotton from his hands and swipes gently around the arrowhead. He tenses, surprised, but doesn't stop her. She glances at it– he heals fast, so if she doesn't do it soon, the muscle will start to mend around it. "Just relax," she mutters, and she yanks it out before he has space to react, dropping it onto the table beside them, where the tip breaks off - unusable. He winces though, and while her expression doesn't change, she tenses, and her hands still. The violent contractions in her gut push worry and anger and frustration and relief all together, and soon the words are out of her mouth before she can stop them. "God, Kid Idiot, this is why I told you to watch my BACK."
And he flinches, and soon the anger and shock and hurt and indignation are all battling on his face, and he throws back, "You're welcome you know. Next time I won't bother trying to save your self-righteous ass."
She knows really, that he was only trying to help, and the feelings in her gut are squirming again, so she bites her lip and starts to bandage his shoulder, applying the slightest of medical glue around the wound to help with the healing. "There, it's all finished." They both know she isn't only talking about the wrappings, but she still doesn't move from where she's sitting. She peers up from beneath her eyelids, and he's just watching her. He just looks quiet, and thoughtful, and she can see something in his eyes, but she can't quite make it out. His gaze is warm though, and her face is flushing, and soon all these stupid feelings are pushing through her and around her and she's so emotionally tense that she does the only thing she can think of.
His lips are soft, even if he's a little bit stiff, and soon she's been pulled into his lap and they're just making out. His hands are tangling in her long gold hair, and she's running her fingers through his soft ginger mess. She's pressed up against him, and she can hear his heart hammering in his chest. He's really warm.
When they come up for air again, she slides off his lap and moves to leave. He doesn't move to stop her, and neither say a word. Even later, when they're all gathered in the kitchen with M'gann's third batch of somewhat edible cookies, they don't speak about it. Instead, she makes a derisive comment about his eating habits, and he calls her what amounts to a shrew, and they both go about with their lives.
A week later though, they can both feel that something's changed. Their dynamic has shifted, and they aren't really sure how to approach it. Neither one wants to be the first to broach the topic, because feelings are unpredictable, and reactions more so. They're standing in the kitchen, fighting again, because really, what else can they do?
"You're being a pig. Could you at least watch where you're spewing all that bile before you go whipping around?"
"As if it matters. There isn't much that I could do that would make much difference where your face is involved."
"Just bitter, aren't you, because your luck with the ladies is so pathetically low?"
"You would know wouldn't you, since I guess you aren't really a lady at all!"
And soon it's getting heated and intense and very, very cruel and their faces are flushed and their breathing is heavy. The kitchen has long since been abandoned for more savoury locations – no one really wants to be caught in the middle of what Robin has affectionately termed "Another domestic squabble."
Her cheeks are flushed quite prettily though, and it stops KF's heart for a minute. And she notes, with some amusement, that there's a crumb lingering on the corner of his lips. And they look so soft and moist and warm that she doesn't really think about it before she swipes it away with the pad of her thumb. They're really quite close when she looks back at him, and the rage behind his eyes is shifting, and she is suddenly very aware of the erratic rhythm of her heart. His last comment is still lingering in their minds, and while it's quite unkind, it's the first real notice either of them has given to what's happened in the infirmary. He coughs nervously, and ducks his head, abashed. "Sorry." She watches him, carefully, her breath caught in her throat. An apology from Wally? That's a rare event. "I didn't mean it." And she's still very quiet, and he starts to fumble through his words, because he isn't sure whether or not his apology is being well received, and she's so close and so pretty and god he's just so nervous. "I mean, it's not that I think you're a lady, like one of those girls that has to be dressed up all the time or – not that I don't think you'd look nice dressed up – not that you need to of course, because yeah, you're really hot and -"
He doesn't finish because her arms are winding their way around his neck and he can't breathe and he is suddenly aware of how alone they really are. Robin's already left with Batman, and M'gann and Superboy are taking a joy ride in the Bioship. Kaldur is in the training room, or maybe in the library or maybe in his room and it just barely occurs to him that really, he doesn't care where he is, because he isn't here. Her lips are just as soft as he remembers, and she tastes a little bit like strawberries, and she's pressing up against him and the pressure is really, really nice. Soon she's sitting on the island with her legs wrapped around his waist and she's thinking breathing is really, really overrated.
This is different from their first kiss, which was some sort of mix between anxiety and happiness and relief and suppressed heat. It's all out passion and cautious feelings and lust and soon her lips have parted and his tongue is darting through the opening and having him so close to her is making her mind hazy. Her fingers are fisting in his hair and he's pulling her tight against his chest and she feels, perhaps, that this is a very nice way to make up after a fight, and really, if it's going to be like this from now on, she won't mind as much.
They're sitting on the couch watching the Flash on Television when M'gann and Superboy walk in. They're a little bit surprised when they notice the lack of obvious hostility, but they aren't sitting all that close together, and there's a still a little bit of tension in the air, and while it certainly does feel different, she can't put her finger on it, so she shrugs and grabs her boyfriend's hand and leads him to the kitchen. The slight swelling of her lips and the flush on her cheeks, and the slightly erratic breathing of the boy on the couch go unnoticed.
"God Baywatch, watch where you're going!"
"If you weren't just standing in the middle of a crowded hallway, I wouldn't have knocked you over! You were practically asking for it!"
"If I wanted to get the breath knocked out of me I would have picked a fight with Cheshire!"
They're glaring each other down in the middle of the hallway. He was late going to the briefing and was attempting to catch up with the rest of the team. He'd been in the process of putting his goggles on, so he hadn't really seen her when he rushed up behind them.
She punches him in the shoulder and shoves against his chest, trying to free herself from the cage he's made over her. He's annoyed, of course, but he can't help but give the faintest shiver when her hand comes into contact with him.
"Get off me!"
"Easy tiger, I don't want to be here either."
She's brushing herself off and glaring at him. He's only a little bit surprised when he sees the heat flare up briefly in her eyes. They're getting much better at reading each other. She turns her back on him and stalks off haughtily, flipping her hair over her shoulder. It's a signal, sort of, and it makes his heart race a little bit. He stares, a little appreciatively, after her.
Robin is off to the side of the hallway, looking vaguely amused. He waggles his eyebrows at Wally, who scowls and brushes past him. "Shut up."
They've been 'meeting' more and more frequently. It isn't always intentional, when it happens. Often it's spur of the moment – the result of pent up heat and affection and lust and relief. They've been getting more daring too. The cave is no longer empty when they start to go at each other, hungry and restless.
They've only barely avoided detection as far Robin goes, and even Kaldur has started giving them appraising looks. She lets the thought filter through to the back of her mind. It's not as if they don't already know is it? They've all more or less called them out. She gives an internal shrug, and returns to the speedster who is currently holding all her attention.
It had all started out innocently enough. She'd signalled her desire to spend some time together tonight – just watching a stupid movie or something. They could get along on their own after all, they weren't children. Of course, he'd been very close, and she had seen the way his mouth had lifted in a smile when she walked over to the couch, bearing popcorn and pop tarts and soda. He'd reached out for them, and she'd twisted teasingly out of his grasp, and he'd missed by just a little bit, nearly falling forwards off the couch.
She'd laughed of course, because he had looked reproachfully at her and his legs and arms had tangled and he'd slid off in a jumble of afghans and cushions. She slipped a pop tart in his mouth and said, "Only once." When he'd turned to her, mystified, she'd replied with, "You're a big boy now, you can feed yourself," and she'd settled herself on the couch, leaving him to lean against it from his position on the floor.
Thinking back on it, she couldn't even remember what movie they had been watching. Halfway through though, he'd picked himself up and settled into the couch beside her, and she had been all too aware of the hitch in his breath when an on-screen character had thrown a spectacular Hay-maker. The rise and fall of his chest had suddenly turned infinitely more interesting than the spectacle on the television, and she'd turned and rested her head on the back of the couch, quietly watching him. He noticed after a moment, of course, and when he caught her gaze and raised an inquisitive eyebrow, she had just stared impassively back. And then she'd winked.
He hadn't even been sure, and the pop tart had fallen back on the table, unopened. But she'd smiled in invitation, and he'd flushed a million different shades of red, and soon they were both lying on the sofa, fingers tangled in each other's hair and stealing the other's breath away. At one point, she thinks they shut off the television, but maybe it's just that her mind has gone blank and she can't think of anything else because he's blocking her view. He breathes on her neck, and she shivers so openly that he can't help nipping gently at the skin there. The thought sits idly at the back of her mind that she really can't afford to have any hickeys, but then he's sucking on the skin and it just feels so damn good that she can't be bothered to care.
Her fingers are caressing his face and she's biting the edges of his ears and then everything just gets so hot that she makes the logical jump that they had probably better take off their shirts. He stops kissing her just briefly enough to lift the shirt above his head, and he's going for the hem of her tank when a blaring voice declares that Robin has just entered Mount Justice. His fingers still, and eventually pull back, and she can't help but feel overwhelmingly disappointed, but she can respect that he doesn't want his best friend to find him more or less having sex with his teammate in the middle of the living room, so she slides off his lap to the other end of the couch while he pulls his shirt back on.
"Hey Robin!" He calls out, motioning for the little bird to join him to where he's relocated in the kitchen. They'd been running out of snacks anyway.
Robin glances briefly at Artemis, but she studiously refuses to acknowledge either him or Kid, so he shrugs it off and joins his friend. She knows it isn't really fair of her to be upset with him – she'd hardly like to walk in on M'gann and Superboy getting down and dirty on the couch – but she can't stop feeling spiteful at the interruption. Eventually, the sounds of their conversation drifting over grates on her, and she gets up to go train.