title: hold me fast
summary: it had been a trying few days. that was an understatement.
word count: ~600
cw: injury

a/n:

this is actually a really, REALLY old one i wrote for a teen titans roleplay partner, but i still like it so i decided to clean it up and upload it

based on her characterisation of wally west

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"Jay, you've gotta keep still. I can't treat this thing if you keep moving."

Jason muttered darkly in response. Probably something along the lines of don't call me Jay, or like you're one to talk, West, but it was hard to tell—there was a slur to his words and a tremor, slight but there. It didn't help that most of this was spoken against the freckles on the speedster's shoulder. His eyes were shut tight, no doubt due to equal parts sleep deprivation and whatever the hell Wally was doing to the burn on his arm (his formerly unburnt left arm—of course, the universe wouldn't let him get away with that, would it?) to make it sear like that.

Maybe also from the comedown from his earlier panic attack.

(It had been a trying few days. That was an understatement.)

Wally worried his lower lip with his teeth. It was rare to see Jason so shaken. "How're you doing?"

Jason raised his head barely enough to be intelligible. "Fine," he said, "just fine," before hissing through his teeth and pressing a muffled fuck into the crook of Wally's neck. Wally rubbed soothing circles between Jason's shoulder blades before returning to the blistered, bloody wound.

"Not to—uh—sound like a broken record or anything, but—"

"But I should'a told you." Somehow, despite the unsteadiness of his voice, Jason still managed that trademark sardonicism of his (a talent, apparently—if there was one thing a bomb couldn't kill it was Jason's sarcasm and temper). His right hand curled into a white-knuckled fist and pressed into the small of Wally's back, riding his shirt up. "But I shouldn't've gone in alone. Yeah, yeah, I know. If y'didn't notice, it was kind of an emergency situation."

"Oh my God, Jason, that's not what—" Wally caught himself, pausing a second to close his eyes. He swallowed, exhaled slowly. "Look, all I'm saying is—I know you've got this whole 'lone wolf' thing but—but you know could've—called me, r-right? Withsomethinglikethis? I mean…"

He trailed, stalling in the middle of applying the gauze; his eyes dropped. When he spoke again, his voice was low, deliberate – with a hoarse edge that made Jason's heart skip.

"…you got lucky in that explosion, Jay. Really, really lucky. And I got really, really lucky finding you, but…"

A pregnant silence settled, punctuated only by the rhythmic interruptions of the clock in Wally's hallway. With Jason's head resting against Wally this way, features angled away, Wally had no means of gauging Jason's response until:

"I know." A beat. His right hand uncurled, arm tightening around Wally's waist to draw him closer. "I'm sorry. I-I just—fuck, I'm tired."

—and something about that (maybe the mundanity of it, as if his boyfriend had only dropped a plate instead of getting himself launched from a collapsing building) punched a laugh out of him, breathless and just a little desperate but still genuine and warm (as if Wally could be anything but) and, God, Jason couldn't decide whether he wanted to glare at this boy or kiss him. Damn him. "Okay," Wally said. "Tell you what. I'll forgive you. Iiiiiiif—" The last of the gauze was applied, but neither of them pulled away; Wally's cheek settled in Jason's curls. He could feel Wally's smile against his scalp. "—you stay here for the night. Deal?"

Despite his exhaustion, Jason managed a small, hidden smile of his own. "Y'taking advantage o'me, West?"

Wally's laugh was stronger this time. "You wish. Not 'till your arm's better."

"Hey, Wally?"

"Hm?"

Jason's head turned, nose tracing the hollow of Wally's throat. "Call me Jay again and you're sleeping on the couch."

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