Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/971280.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Young_Justice_(Cartoon)
  Relationship:
      Roy_Harper/Wally_West
  Character:
      Roy_Harper, Wally_West
  Additional Tags:
      Somnophilia, Mildly_Dubious_Consent, Wake-Up_Sex, Oral_Sex, Anal_Sex,
      Fluff
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-09-18 Words: 1792
****** Good Morning ******
by AeeDee
Summary
     A prompt from the YJ_anon_meme, of what the anon described as "lazy
     wake-up sex", the idea of waking up to your partner initiating sex
     with you.
Notes
     This concept does involve dubcon, because there is no initial
     statement of consent in the beginning.
He was rocking his hips before he was completely aware. It was instinctual;
reactive. Nerves were stimulated in just the right way, and his body was moving
against a sensation that was warm and reassuring; gentle and subtle waves of
pleasure that were mild at first, then more pronounced. The more he arched his
hips, the more he spread his legs apart, the deeper the sensation felt. He
could feel it in his muscles, that heat travelling and the hint of arousal
building and soothing all at once. It’s a near-sickening mix of feelings,
conflicting messages; that contact, so hot to the touch and delicate, he wanted
more. He needed more.
Wally doesn’t open his eyes at first, even after he’s awake. It’s not an
intentional decision, it’s mainly that he feels tired and at ease, the kind of
relaxed state that makes him hesitant to leave the quiet space inside his head.
This quiet space, where all he is aware of—no sights, no clearly defined
sounds—is what he feels. That heat, so hot, so hot. He’s burning. He’s burning
up.
And when he almost groans, a rumbling deep within his throat, he’s lifting his
lower body, pushing himself upwards from the bed, his body stiffening as he
feels more than ever before. He becomes explicitly aware of what’s being done
to him.
A coarse and wet caress of a tongue exploring his cock, and the trapped warmth
of lips around it. The sounds, now reaching his ears; sounds of licking and
sucking and wet flesh against flesh. A sound that’s almost like kissing, almost
romantic. Exceedingly sensual-
A hand starts to travel up his body, his sensitive skin feeling the sparks as
he starts to shiver.
He’s opening his eyes, and he takes in the view as his vision adjusts to the
sunlight painting the room. Nothing to see for a while, white sheets and bare
walls with only a few and forgotten posters pinned into them. He sees nothing,
but he feels; he feels so much still-
And when he glances down, he knows why. Perched between his legs, the sheets
portray the faint suggestion of a person, obscured from view but very much
there. He leans back against the bed, shaking from another wave of pleasure
that travels all the way through his cock as he gasps and closes his eyes
again. His knees are trembling, and that fragile gasp becomes a series of
short, broken pants, broken breaths as he can feel an arousal building, a
tension that’s being teased and teased and taunted by an overly aggressive
tongue and what can only be a set of hands, with eager fingers that are
applying pressure to all the right places-
“Wait,” he manages, almost desperately. “Wait.”
A pause. For the first time, he’s aware of how wet his cock is when that mouth
abandons his flesh, when the fingers come to rest along his inner thighs.
And a faint murmur, “Why.”
He explains, his mind only functioning at half its normal speed. “I want…
more.”
I want to see you, and I want to touch you and I want to feel your body against
me.
But “more,” was an adequate answer.
-
He wasn’t completely awake yet, but that didn’t matter. Because every new,
waking sensation was one of pleasure; of warmth and comfort and the kind of
affection that almost lulled him back to sleep.
But he was feeling too much for that to happen. As tired and blissfully quiet
as he was, he could feel everything with an increasing awareness, even if he
was hazy around the edges. Strong hands on his back, firm and gentle as they
slid up his spine; the warmth emanating from his lover’s body, as Wally winds
his legs around Roys’s waist. The soothing and soft kisses on his neck, several
in succession of each other, teasing and almost fragile, so light they almost
disappear beneath other sensations. Feelings like, the habitual spark of
arousal that causes his cock to stiffen; the heat trapped between their bodies.
The curious and fascinating feeling of a hard dick inside him, pushing against
his prostate as he’s being rocked slowly, those hands on his back nudging him
slightly, as he takes the hint and rolls his hips one more time. And again. And
again.
Another kiss on his neck; he rolls his hips again, and he hears Roy’s breath
catch in his throat, a rattled intake of breath that’s almost startled. Wally
loves to hear that sound. He loves those fleeting moments, when he’s made aware
that his lover is enjoying this even half as much as he does. He wants to bring
him pleasure; he wants to be a good partner. He’s repeatedly told he doesn’t
have to try so hard, “You’re already good enough,” but that never stops him
from wanting to become better. For Roy, he’ll never be good enough. Because Roy
deserves better. No matter how good he is, Roy deserves better.
That’s the way Wally shows love. He never stops trying, chasing after a moving
target. Never.
A kiss on his face, roughly an inch away from his mouth. Wally turns to look at
Roy’s face, features relaxed and only slightly more aware than his own. His
eyes are heavy. His lips at rest. His breathing shallow. His shoulders tense as
he looks back at him, that shared look communicating mutual affection.
Sex was just sex. But sex with someone you loved; that is…
Wally gives Roy a quick kiss on the mouth, before he winds his arms around his
shoulders, leaning his face into the base of his neck as he starts to move a
little faster. He closes his eyes, breathing hoarse and deep as he lifts
himself and pushes back down, lifts up and down, up and down, thrusting Roy’s
cock into himself with a rhythm that he knew would get them both off. Roy liked
it slow, and Wally liked it deep; so this was the fair marriage of their
ideals.
He can feel the jump in Roy’s heart rate, from this sensitive spot on his neck.
He feels his body growing warmer, his hands pressing a tad more firmly into the
small of his back; he can hear his breathing more clearly than ever, short and
shallow sighs that almost sound like moans, slow and deep and then faster,
faster and more cut up as Wally steadily increases the frequency and rides him
just a bit more aggressively. He's rocking against his lover, their chests
pressed together, his arms still tight around his shoulders, Wally’s licking
delicately along Roy’s neck as he starts to pant, before he clenches his jaw
like always, an attempt to control his reaction.
Roy’s reaching one of his hands up to the back of Wally’s neck, and he cradles
him like a lover, holding him close as if they were enjoying an innocent
moment, a serene and almost childish embrace. Disregarding the fact that
they’re making love, that Roy’s dick is submerged somewhere up to six inches
inside of Wally, as Wally’s starting to sigh and whine and Roy is trying not to
moan out loud.
When Roy loses his composure, he has a way of tossing out pet names. Things
like, Oh fuck, baby, and Ah, honey, and Sweet, just- And he doesn’t mind that
behavior itself, except that sometimes he loses control of his volume. And once
he starts to vocalize, Wally will react; he will say something like, Oh God,
more and Please, yes, and similar variants. So between the affectionate pet
names and the cries for more, they have a downright naughty conversation.
Roy wouldn’t mind that at all, if he didn’t live in an apartment with paper
thin walls. But some sacrifices have to be made…
In exchange for being able to enjoy moments like this; his lover is melting in
his embrace, his sighs distorted by pleasure, his body so warm and accepting,
God every time he fucks him, he slides in like a glove, like they’ve done this
a thousand times-
And it’s never enough. He dreams about sex with Wally. He wakes up and has sex
with Wally. He works during the day, and meets him during the afternoon, and
fantasizes about sex with Wally. There is never enough time or energy to
communicate the extraordinary amount of lust he has for this one person.
But it’s not just about lust. It’s never been about lust. He didn’t need a
relationship for the sake of having sex. He’d done it just fine without one,
several times.
It was about so much more than lust. It was-
The way he feels, when he realizes Wally is close to coming; his beautiful body
tensing, his muscles firming up, his arms locking themselves around his back as
he starts that slow whine, that broken whine that almost sounds like he’s in
pain. Wally's beautiful face when it contorts into near-anguish, his eyes
closing and his lips curving into a tight smile, like he has too much emotion
to communicate it properly. The way he speeds up the motion of his hips, right
before he comes; Roy can always tell that exact moment, because for that split
second Wally’s entire body trembles, with a rush of intent and desperation and
need he can’t control otherwise.
Even after Wally comes, it’s the way he relaxes in Roy’s arms, as he allows Roy
to continue thrusting into him, slow and deep until he builds himself up the
rest of the way. When he’s tracing kisses along Wally’s face, tasting his skin,
enjoying the smooth feel of it, the way it’s so hot to the touch and how Wally
blushes after a few minutes of the extra attention. It’s the way Wally is so
patient, and so at ease as Roy slowly rocks him, pushing into him as deep as he
can, embracing him more tightly than he should because he expresses his stress
through his arms and hands.
And when he comes inside Wally and gives him a single kiss on the mouth; when
Wally smiles back at him.
The way Wally's smile takes over his face, his eyes brightening up as they both
come down, calming and soothing each other with slow and steady hands,
caressing each other’s bodies, feeling each other’s warmth, enjoying their
union.
It was never just about fucking, between him and Wally. It had never been about
the sex. It was about so much more than that.
“Wally,” he sighs pleasantly, as he leans in and rests his face against the
boy’s shoulder, his arms loosely draped around his waist.
“Yeah,” he asks, a small laugh in his tone.
“Good morning.”
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