Disclaimer: I don't own Young Justice.
A/N: Another request from Vanessa Masters. I really want to try and write Tommy Terror and Cameron right. I'm kind of learning to like this pairing too; that being said, something tells me Tommy's accent is going to be a pain. I don't know, whenever I hear him talk, I keep thinking of The Hills Have eyes for some strange reason. Hmm. . . . Anywho, I'm going to try my hardest and on with the fic!
Title: Comparison
Summary: Looking back on it, Cameron doesn't see how he got the two confused.
Pairing: Tommy Terror/Icicle Jr.
Warnings: heavy yaoi
Xxx
Looking back on it, Cameron doesn't see how he got the two confused—the mini Boy in Blue (or rather, black in this case) and the freakin' brick house that was Tommy Terror. (Seriously, the guy was built like a freakin' wall with the muscles of the Hulk.)
Not to mention Tommy was all country-boy charm. That should've been a huge tip; Superboy hadn't been charming at all. Sure he'd had nice muscles that Cameron could see beneath the orange jumpsuit, and yeah, he'd had the bluest that Cameron would compare to summer skies and ocean water (though he would never say any of this out-loud), but Tommy was different. Tommy (despite being a bad guy and kind of slow) was actually really charming and had a smile that could only come from growing up in the country, and he was actually really nice. (That sounded so weird to think, but it was true.)
And there are times when Cameron stares a little too long at Tommy's muscles—memorized the pathway of every vein, every valley and hill, and he loves the way he can see Tommy's spine because that must be one hell of a bone to support all that muscle. When Tommy sees that Cameron is staring, Cameron tries to look away quickly but stares long enough to fall in love with the Tommy's eyes. Their no summer skies or ocean waters like Superboy's, but they're a different shade of blue—like the light blue of a child's crayon (although that sounds a little stupid and not as poetic),and so Cameron decides to think of cornflowers, and he decides that's a much better comparison.
Superboy had nice lips, too. A little on the thin side, but totally kissable (and dear God, if he ever thought anything like that again he'd have to either slap himself or ask Tuppence or that Tigress chick to do it; he's sure they wouldn't mind). Tommy's lips look so much more kissable (again, needing to be slapped). The bottom lip is fuller than the top, and it's almost cute to watch those lips shape into a pout whenever Aqualad (seriously, couldn't the guy get an easier name to pronounce?) berated him.
One night, Cameron decides that dreams are God's most wonderful gifts to humans because before he would dream of Superboy with white hair and the torn shirt and pants, but now he melts away, and it's Tommy—the real Tommy, and the real Tommy is leaning over him and swallowing him with his muscular frame, and he's kissing Cameron, and Cameron is actually startled when Tommy tastes like pies and cakes from a childhood Cameron thought he'd long forgotten.
(And when Cameron wakes up, he tries not to be disappointed, but he's frustrated because he's sweating and hard and strokes himself until he comes thinking about Tommy opening with his fingers and tongue, and everyone knows the fantasy isn't the same as the real thing.)
Xxxxx
Tommy has a big laugh—loud and boisterous; it vibrates through his chest and shakes the muscles that it runs through. He spins around in his chair like laughing like a kid at Christmas, and it's one of those cute moments that Cameron files away.
"Tommy! Stop yer kiddin' around! We've got work to do!"
Tuppence, despite being the younger twin, is the mature one. She's approaches every job with a smile that's all callous and the love of destruction.
Tommy regards his sister with a (cute) pout and crosses his (massive bulging totally lickable) arms over his chest.
"C'mon, Tuppence! I'm just tryin' to have a little fun."
"You can have yer fun after the job."
"We won't be at the drop spot for another hour or two. What's the harm in havin' a little fun before?"
Tuppence rolls her eyes and shares a look with Tigress. Tommy turns to face the window but ceases his spinning.
It's another hour, but after arriving, the Gotham bank greets them with police and dogs and bullets (of course none of them really work, mind you), but what Cameron doesn't anticipate (and apparently neither did Aqualad or Tigress or Huntress for that matter) is for Tommy to take one hell of a bullet (what the hell kind of gun was that anyway, a freakin' shotgun?) to the shoulder and then to fall on the bleeding bullet hole. Tommy lets out a torrent of colorful words and continues even when Tuppence and Aqualad support him on their shoulders and carry him back to the ship.
Tigress inspects the wounds like a mother inspects an injury to her child. After a minute, she sags ever-so-slightly but speaks with the same staccato, cold voice:
"It's deep, but the bullet has exited his body. It didn't hit an artery or any vital muscle, but he's going to need stitches."
She then faces Cameron (and Cameron decides that God really doesn't like him) and says, "I need you to stitch him up while Aqualad, Tuppence and I count how much money we've managed to stock up."
"Hold on a minute-" Cameron starts, but the look Tigress gives him is a mastered version of the Bat-glare, and he decides it is better (for his health and mental well-being) for him to just shut up and be a good little henchman and do as he's told.
"I'll go get the first aid."
It's not as awkward as Cameron first thought it was going to be. Tommy keeps making snide remarks about how he could handle a little flesh wound (despite the swearing he had done earlier), and how those "stupid Gotham cops just caught him off guard" and how Cameron had nice hands and—
-Wait a minute, what?
Cameron startles and presses a little too hard on the wound. Tommy hisses and jerks but settles his arm back so that Cameron's hands cradle the muscle.
Cameron gaps like a fish drowning on air and stutters:
"I-I'm sorry, wh-what?"
(God dammit man, don't freakin' stutter!)
Tommy's smile is full of country-boy courtesy, and he says:
"You heard me. Tuppence always presses too hard when I'm injured. She's not like you. I'd thoughtyou'd be all hard and cold 'cause yer made of ice, you know? But when yer like this, yer still cold, but yer hands aren't hard all, not like Tuppence, at least; they're soft, and I like that."
Cameron isn't sure whether he should take that as a compliment or an insult, but Tommy's looking at him with really soft blue eyes, and his lips are right there just begging for Cameron to kiss them, but Cameron startles and quickly moves away to finish bandaging the wound.
Cameron tries to quell the blush that he can feel forming on his cheeks, and he doesn't look behind him as he says:
"Let me know if you need anything."
(And Cameron is literally and figuratively kicking himself all night.)
Xxxxx
Cameron is pretty sure that Tommy is flirting with him.
It's not like he's being really obvious (like Cameron usually is), but it's not like he's trying to hide it, either.
Every chance he gets, he moves behind Cameron and wraps an arm around him—a seemingly innocent gesture until he decides to squeeze and Cameron's arm and press his lips against Cameron's ear.
And then there was that one time when the shower door was cracked and Cameron (being the stupid and curious person that he is) decided to peek inside, and is completely blown away when he sees that Tommy is naked and all his muscles are pressing up against his glistening skin, and (holy shit holy shit holy shit) his cock is big like the rest of him and completely erect, and Tommy's got a fist wrapped around himself, and he's stroking himself at a furious rhythm and (dear sweet loving God above) he's looking directly at Cameron.
Cameron had run down the hallway like a bat out of hell, nearly crashing into Tigress (he'd almost lost a limb after that encounter). He had locked himself in his room and tried to get his heart to stop and his sudden erection to go down, but at the end, he ended up stroking himself and filling himself with four of his fingers (even though he's pretty sure four fingers are no match for the gloriousness that is Tommy Terror).
Xxxxx
Cameron was by no means a virgin, but the most he'd ever put inside himself (dildo or otherwise) had never been bigger than four of his fingers. So when Tommy Terror cornered him in the medical wing of the ship and pinned him against the wall, and when Cameron felt Tommy's dick pressing into the cleft of his ass—big and hard and sturdy enough to be some kind of miniature missile (and he'll smack himself for the comparison later), he can't help but feel excited and mildly terrified at the same time.
Tommy's breath is hot in his ear:
"Why are you avoidin' me?"
And Cameron manages to clear his head long enough to ask:
"Wh-what?"
(What the hell was up with him and the stuttering?)
"You heard me. Why are you avoidin' me?"
And Cameron is spun around so fast the world blurs together, and then he's staring into pools of blue, and Cameron thinks that Tommy would make an excellent terrorist interrogator because one look in Tommy's eyes, and Cameron was singing like a canary.
"I like you."
Cameron holds his breath, and Tommy blinks so slowly that Cameron can practically see the wheels working in his head on that one.
"Wha?"
"I like you." Cameron says. "I really like you; I like you a lot. But you see, the thing is, I kinda got tricked by Superboy and his ex, and I kinda had a crush on him for a little bit, but then I met you and realized you were nothing like him, but I'm still not really sure what to do about this because I'm pretty sure that you don't like me, and I'm rambling and-"
Tommy captures lips and swallows his voice, and Cameron is suddenly on cloud nine because kissing Tommy is way better than kissing Superboy what's-his-face. Tommy's lips are a little calloused, and Cameron can feel the teeth marks pressing into his own, but Tommy's working at Cameron's lips with a careful tongue—like he's tasting Cameron and memorizing every inch of his mouth.
Tommy's really good with his hands because those hands that could crush freakin' metal are carefully and slowly pushing Cameron's shirt up past his head, and Cameron's trying to mimic the movement, but all he ends up doing is pushing the shirt up to Tommy's armpits and rubbing Tommy's chest and muscled stomach with his hands.
Tommy pulls away from Cameron long enough to take of his shirt, and Cameron finishes removing his own. Instead of going back to his lips, Tommy's head dips low and captures one of Cameron's nipples and Cameron is arching up and pushing at Tommy's head trying to keep him there. Tommy gently nips and sucks, laves at the hardening bud and then moves to the other one. He drops to his knees and is kissing Cameron's stomach, nipping at his belly button and following the fine line of hair down to Cameron's crotch.
"No," Cameron says (even though his brain is practically singing yes in a very high falsetto), "I wanna suck you."
Tommy groans low in his throat, and he stands up and quickly unbuttons his pants, spinning around so that his back is against the wall. The cock that juts free is big and faintly red in color (not pink but red) and the slit is slightly glistening with moisture. Cameron drops to his knees (in a dignified manner, of course) and takes the base of Tommy's cock in his hand and licks at the slit. Tommy sucks in a sharp breath and rocks his hips forward.
"You're huge dude." Cameron mumbles, and he presses a kiss to the underside of the flushed head.
Tommy's eyes slip shut, and his head falls back against the wall. "Hung like a horse, right?"
Cameron decides there was never a more accurate description. Licking his lips, Cameron swallowed the tip and carefully moved down. He knew there was no way in hell that he'd managed to take the whole thing, but from the way Tommy moaned, Cameron knew he wouldn't have to.
"C'mon, I know yer not like others. Suck me hard."
Cameron takes in a breath and sucks a hard breath, creating a vacuum with his cheeks, and from the way Tommy hit the wall with his fist, he's pretty sure he's doing the right thing. Cameron uses his free hand to cup Tommy's balls, carefully rolling them and lightly squeezing them, and he works at Tommy's leaking slit before he moves back down.
"Yeah, just like that; keep doin' that."
Cameron is more than happy to oblige, but he's ass is feeling hollow; he wants to be filled, and he's pretty sure that Tommy's a mind reader because only moments after Cameron can feel Tommy's dick pulsating on his tongue, Tommy pulls himself completely out of Cameron's mouth and hoists Cameron up and turns Cameron so that he's facing the wall.
"Put your hands on the wall and brace yerself."
Cameron obeys and he shudders when Tommy harshly pulls at his pants and briefs and pushes them down around Cameron's ankles. Cameron curses and kicks the pants away, and Tommy spreads his cheeks and holds him. Cameron is about to ask what the hell he's waiting for, but all the comes out is a moan when Tommy drops to his knees and runs his tongue over Cameron's puckered hole.
"Fuck!"
"I'll make it good, for both of us. Just relax and let me prep you."
Cameron wants to say that he's no virgin, but when Tommy carefully works his tongue and two damp, large fingers into Cameron's hole, all ability of coherent speech goes straight out the window. Cameron rocks his hips back onto the tongue and fingers, wanting to grind down, but Cameron held him by the hips and kept him still while he carefully (and surprisingly gently) prepped him.
"F-fuck! Don't tease; I don't wanna come, yet. I want you to be inside me when you do."
Tommy pulls away and takes his fingers out. He gives Cameron's hole a final lick and stands back up. He presses himself against Cameron, his hard dick pressing into the cleft of Cameron's ass, and he thrusts against him. Cameron moans and pushes back to meet Tommy's thrusts.
"Inside—I want you inside."
Tommy carefully aligns himself and slips inside like he belongs balls-deep inside Cameron, and Cameron's pretty sure Tommy's going to wind up fucking his intestines or something because he just keeps pushing in until he bottoms out against Cameron's ass.
"Are you alright?" Tommy's voice is strained, but he's kissing Cameron's shoulder gently and leaving little bite marks that blossom red on Cameron's skin.
"Y-yeah. Move."
Tommy's thrusts start out slow, and when Cameron starts pushing back, he picks up speed. His strong hips snap against Cameron's ass, and his balls hit Cameron's thighs with soft slapping noises. Cameron's vision keeps whiting out because Tommy keeps hitting just the right spot, and he moans and reaches down to jerk himself in time with Tommy's thrusts.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, don't stop. Even if I come, you don't stop until you do."
Tommy drops his head down to Cameron's shoulder and nods, his thrusts seeming to pick up even more speed. Cameron feels his balls tighten, and he bites his bottom lip to keep from screaming as his orgasm rips through him, spraying over his chest and hand. True to his word, Tommy continued his sharp thrusts, and Cameron felt his dick twitch in response. Tommy gently bit down on his pulse point, and that made Cameron clench hard on Tommy's dick, and he did again and again until he heard Tommy groan and felt hot semen fill his waiting cavity.
"Yeah," Tommy moaned and kissed Cameron on the ear, neck and corner of the mouth. "So good."
Cameron nodded and whined as Tommy slipped out of him. He would've collapsed to the floor if Tommy hadn't caught him under the arms, pulled him back against his chest and guided him to the floor. He ran his hands up and down Cameron's chest over his thighs and arms.
"I didn't hurt you, did I?"
Cameron shook his head and couldn't stop the (stupid totally fucked-my-brains-out) grin that worked its way onto his face.
"No way."
The silence that followed was the expected post-sex quiet, and Cameron relished in it; relished in the way that Tommy's hands moved up and down over his slightly shuddering flame; relished in the way he could feel Tommy's seed slipping out of his entrance; relished in the warmth of Cameron's chest against his back.
Tommy cleared his throat, and Cameron looked at him over his shoulder.
"So. . .does this mean we're datin' now?"
Cameron couldn't help but laugh at the (endearing) comment, and he leaned back to kiss Tommy, softly nipping his (that totally kissable) bottom lip.
"Yeah, I think it does."