Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/ works/1566821. Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Underage Category: M/M Fandom: Young_Justice_(Cartoon) Relationship: Conner_Kent/Dick_Grayson, Artemis_Crock/Wally_West, La'gaan/M'gann M'orzz, Karen_Beecher/Mal_Duncan Character: Conner_Kent, Dick_Grayson Additional Tags: Angry_Sex, First_Time, Dirty_Talk Stats: Published: 2014-05-04 Words: 1233 ****** Spar ****** by kaige68 Summary Dick and Conner are in the same boat, watching the people they love be in love with someone else. They've learned to work out their frustrations in the sparring room, and a little more. Notes This takes place somewhere between Season 1 and 2, and contains mild spoilers for season 2. I have been junkie watching Young Justice for a little over a week, and am completely hooked. And as a warning, This is just about my only exposure to the DC Universe. Apologies for any wrong info. Dick twisted his body as it arced through the air. Not to give it a graceful appearance, more so his back, rather than his face, would hit the wall. Impact, roll, stand, move in. He and Conner seemed to be sparing together more and more when they weren’t on missions (or when it wasn’t a school night). At seventeen, Saturday nights should be spent on a date, or trying to get one. Not testing your reflexes against Kryptonian clones. But Dick took what he could get when the one person he wanted to date was… otherwise occupied. He’d been in the kitchen, not super interested in heading back to Gotham when the couples came into the common room to watch a movie. Some chick-flick that Karen had picked out and Mal rolled his eyes about. Artemis dragging Conner along like she was doing him a favor, making him be sociable (in the face of M’gann and Lagoon Boy’s romantic bliss). Wally cluelessly headed for the kitchen with a dopey smile and a box of microwave popcorn. Dick pulled a second bottle of water from the fridge, tossed it to Conner. “Let’s go Supey.” And he headed off to the sparring room vaguely hearing Conner explain that he had forgotten he’d made a promise to Nightwing. ~*~*~ Wearing only sweats, it was a gadget free fight, which put Conner at advantage. While Conner didn’t hold back with his tactics, he did keep in check his brute strength. Cotton didn’t absorb impact like body armor did. Dick appreciated the gesture. The fights had been getting … heavier. It was the best word Dick could find to describe it as Conner kicked viciously (but with little follow through). Conner was clearly angry. Obviously lashing out. Desperate to get lost in physical exertion. Dick wasn’t that far behind himself. Another toss, a somersault, and Dick’s feet hit the wall. He tucked with the momentum then launched himself, catching Conner, rolling and pinning him to the mat. Conner grunted, then faked an ineffectual push. Nightwing twisted slightly and held on. “I heard them the other day.” Superboy rasped into the mat. “After we came back from Bolivia. They were in the showers. Wally and Art-” “DON’T!” Dick rolled, taking his opponent with him then throwing him for all he was worth. When Conner gained his footing, Dick narrowed his eyes and warned. “You don’t want to do this, buddy.” “She was crying out.” Superboy crouched and circled. “People forget how well I can hear when we’re not on a mission. But if I had to guess,” He feigned a lunge and smiled when Dick didn’t fall for it. “I’d say that Wally had mastered giving oral sex, at least Artemis thinks so.” Dick struck out, Conner dodged, struck, threw Dick again. It went on and on, newer, angrier, they were both panting when the next verbal sally sang out. “What d’you think they’re doing out there on the couch?” Dick asked with an evil smile. “La’gaan trying to slyly get to second base? He’ll try not to be obvious with the others in the room, but the yawn and stretch will probably work-” He ducked the solid wall of muscle as quick as he could, but not quick enough. Dick landed on his back on the other side of the room. He exhaled deeply, trying to ease the pain. “And you know that second base won’t be enough for her.” Conner’s roar tore through the room. Dick rolled to his upper back then flipped to standing, turning with the force of impact and hit the mat straddling Conner’s lap, and the tent in his sweats. Dick grinned again, missing the fist that slammed him to the ground. “For a speedster, you know,” Superboy’s face was flushed, anger and adrenaline evident. “It sounds like he’s got a lot of stamina.” Dick saw red and little else. He managed to pin Conner against the wall. One hand holding Conner’s left arm behind his head, the other pushing a spit-slick finger inside Conner’s sweats, and inside Conner. “Can you picture them together like this?” Dick all but whispered into his teammate’s ear. “Yeah, me either. He’s too nice, he thinks she’s delicate. His little Angel fish.” Conner fumed, pushed back, but Dick noted that it wasn’t enough to dislodge him as he shoved another finger into Conner’s ass. It was more like pushing back onto the invasion. “But she’s not like that, is she?” Dick pressed harder against Conner’s neck, asserting dominance, holding him in place. “She won’t be satisfied on a pedestal, will she? She likes it better on her back with her feet in the air, doesn’t she?” He pushed in a third finger. He groaned, more in anger than excitement, and then Conner grunted. “You should ask Artemis for cock sucking lessons. She can make him beg. She can hold him off, and then make him beg again. Maybe if she taught you what to do he might let you try sucking him off sometime. Wally’s very charitable.” “Arghhhhhh!” Dick pushed fiercely, then pulled his fingers out. He yanked down Conner’s pants, then his own. He kicked Superboy’s ankles apart a little further, spit in his hand, and took a deep breath. “Do it!” Conner argued, canted his ass back at Dick. “Do it, now!” And then Dick was fucking him. Fucking Conner. Screwing him into the cave wall of the sparring room. And Conner was meeting every thrust, panting, groaning, breath hitching when Dick dug his fingers into Conner’s hips. Uttering Yes, fuck yes through the slams his body was taking. Dick began to move the hand at Conner’s neck. He wasn’t going to last, he was seventeen and Conner was tight and hot. As angry as the sex was, he didn’t want to leave his friend hanging. But Conner held the hand at his neck tight with a quick “No. Don’t let me go.” “Then you do it.” Dick’s voice was broken, but he kept pushing. “Can you picture her green fingers, soft and delicate on his green cock? That’s how he’d want her, right? Nice quiet little hand job, once in a while. A favor that he doesn't know how to return, while what she really wants is to be plowed hard and long by him.” “They fuck in the garage a lot,” was Conner’s parry. “she’s limber. Wally’s mentioned a few times how strong her thighs are-” “No.” Nightwing whined the interruption. He pounded into Superboy. Faster. Superboy pushed back. Harder. Dick leaned forward, legs straining, licked at a bit of skin on the back of Conner’s neck. That was it for Conner. Dick felt him orgasm around him. Boy of Steel was too right. Tight pulsing heat pushed Dick over the edge as well. ~*~*~ Dressed again, covered in sweat, the teammates were sprawled on the mat, not cuddling, not even touching. Just close enough to get the impression of heat from the other body. To a casual observer they would look like they’d just had an intense workout. Dick smiled supposing that they had, in fact, had an intense workout. “You know,” He said, voice back to friendly banter levels. “I hate the name Angel Fish. Conner laughed. “Thanks, man. If I hear Oh God again, I’m going to let them know I can hear them.” Dick snickered. It really wasn’t a bad Saturday night. Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!