![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
My Existential Angst
by Keelywolfe
Fandom: DC Universe
Pairing: Ollie/Kyle, (Green Arrow/Green Lantern)
Rated NC-17
Notes: Yeah, I've gone off the deep end. Set during Identity Crisis and after Flash #214 and The Talk between Ollie and Wally.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. Just playing with them. Thank you.
Summary: Ollie is tired of seeing things in other people's eyes.
~~*~~
Ollie really hated the Watchtower.
To be fair, it wasn't the place itself he hated, just the getting there but it really made the hatred spread through association. After he spent his traditional amount of time puking his guts out, and yeah, there was a reason a bathroom was located discreetly near the transporter, there wasn't much love to go around.
He didn't really need to be here.
Just about everyone else was out on call; there was a killer to catch but just now, after talking with Wally…
It was easier to be here. Just for a few minutes.
J'onn was somewhere, he was sure, keeping his own watch on the Earth but it was Kyle in the monitor room. The inner world of superheroes might have their world crashing down to the ankles but it didn't mean they could let the rest of the world go with it. Heroes never got much of a chance to just sit down and feel their own pain. That was a lesson they all learned, one of the first.
Kyle glanced up at him, gave him a mock little salute with the hand that wasn't a bunch of busted fingers, and it was suddenly good that it was Kyle here, with his pansy-ass uniform and his little sideways looks. A distraction. Ollie flung himself into one of the chairs and just looked at the kid. Watched him.
There was something about the kid, always had been. There was a word for it and Ollie always wanted to call it smug so he could hate it but really, when had it ever been that simple for him? It wasn't as if he'd liked the kid very much from the first moment they'd bumped shoulders. A shame that wasn't as much Kyle's fault as he wished it was, and Ollie could be an asshole from time to time, but he tried not to compound it with too much stupidity. Wally could be Flash; that was okay, that made sense, he'd earned his reds, but this kid wasn't supposed to be in the greens. He just…wasn't.
Stupid to feel that way, maybe, but he fucking well did, okay, and that was that.
Kyle wasn't anyone's old partner. Silences with Kyle weren't brittle and he'd never looked at Ollie like maybe he was only a peg or two down from a god, like Wally had, before he'd told Wally the truth and saw the change right in his eyes. He'd seen it in Roy's eyes, too, once. The defining moment when they realized the truth about the people they'd spent their lives worshiping.
Kyle was…something else. His eyes didn't see idols crashing to the ground or stumbling through hallways with feet of clay. He didn't know what Kyle saw.
It was the not knowing that pissed Ollie off. Royally. He drummed his fingers lightly on the arm of his chair and watched Kyle checking the monitors again. It was enough to make a guy wish for a catastrophe, nothing too bad, but just something to do. Something that wasn't about looking for a killer. Something.
"If I tell you that you're creeping me out, will you stop staring?" Kyle never took his eyes off the screens.
"Maybe."
Kyle sighed and finally turned his chair towards Ollie. "Look, I know why you're here and I am absolutely not in the mood to go into this right now."
"Don't know what you mean, kid." Ollie leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs, lounging in one of the most expensive, most high-tech, and ugliest chairs science could provide.
There it was, in the faint tightness of his lips, an irritation that had nothing to do with annoying parental figures even though Ollie was sure that behind those white lenses Kyle had just rolled his eyes. "Oh, please, give me just a little credit for intelligence? Wally already tried to hand you an assload of high and mighty and you're waiting for me to give it a try."
One of the strips of tape binding his fingers was coming loose and Kyle toyed with the ragged end absently. Ollie was quite sure he never noticed his fingers brushing against his ring, over and over. Nervous gesture, bad habit. Probably never noticed he did it when his finger was bare, too.
He was already turning back to the monitors. "I don't have anything to say about it right now, all right? So go find something else to sulk about. I have enough existential angst of my own, thanks."
"Bet you do."
He spun in his chair fast enough to impress even Wally. "Don't do this right now!" he snarled. "I don't have any absolution or condemnation for you, okay? Go look for it with someone else, I—"
It was always easiest to shut people up with a fist, but Ollie'd figured out that using your mouth worked almost as well, and saved a lot of money in dentist bills, too.
Really, the kid did all right but he could still use a little more training; maybe he just needed the right person to kick him in the ass. Because sometimes he didn't even think to use the ring and his reactions were the same as any guy's would be who suddenly had someone else's tongue in his mouth. Hands on Ollie's upper arms, flexing but not pushing away, not just yet, and he smelled like that cheap cologne crap that all the young guys seem to wear these days, and tasted like coffee. He wasn't Hal, never would be, and right now that suited Ollie just fine.
It didn't take him long to recover enough to push Ollie back and he went without protest, just far enough that he could lean on the arms of Kyle's chair. Kyle lips were damp and pink and he licked his lower lip nervously. The fresh wet gleam made his mouth look even better.
"Wh—why did…wha—I don't…why does everyone always think I'm gay?" he blurted.
"Don't take it so hard, Connor gets that a lot, too."
He was ready for it this time, wary, and that was good. Meant the kid could actually learn from his mistakes. Didn't much stop Ollie from kissing him again, but he still saw the curl of green light from his ring as Kyle tried to come up with something to push him away, probably even something that wouldn't hurt too much because he'd figure it would just be so rude to kill the crazy old JLA guy who was sucking on his lower lip. Soft touch, this kid, probably making a nice, padded hand to toss Ollie across the room before he locked him up in a nice, padded room.
Almost had it too. And lost it promptly when Ollie gave his crotch a nice, friendly squeeze.
"Oh!" Soft and sharp, right into Ollie's mouth, and yeah, Kyle was still young enough to think with his dick and, eh, wasn't like Ollie could fault him for that. If he lived long enough for Roy to stuff him into one of those homes for old people to rot out the ends of their days, Ollie'd be sneaking into the ladies' rooms at night, getting a gumjob and that was really not the thing to be thinking right now. Kyle had plenty of teeth, sharp ones that were trying to take a chunk out of him.
Ollie pushed down on the hard bulge of Kyle's cock almost brutally with his thumbs, muffled the yelp with his own mouth. Hands on his wrists, and one of them was strong enough, maybe, to pull him away, strong enough to try, anyway, but they didn't. Bingo.
"So tell me no, kid," Ollie whispered. He licked Kyle's mouth wetly and wished he could see the wide eyes that had to go with the way the kid was breathing, harsh and fast. "I'm a skirt chaser, right? I cheat on my women and we both know you're not gay."
"Christ, you're fucked up, I—ah!" Kyle tipped his head back, arching away from the chair and into Ollie's hands. Just where he wanted him, and Kyle wasn't Wally or Roy with those damnable betrayed eyes, he was something else and it made Ollie bite softly at the line of his jaw, licking the stubble-rough skin until his tongue felt raw. The chairs were strong and expensive and just big enough for two people if one of them was straddling the other. It let Ollie be close enough to lick at the little hollow at the base of Kyle's throat, just over the collar, fucking dog collar, it was, but hell, the kid made it look good. That should count for something.
The teleporter was just across the room and anyone who came up here would see them like this, Superman, maybe, Flash. Dinah. Two men in shades of green, and Ollie's hands between them, fumbling and stroking, and Kyle squirmed in all the best ways possible. It made it easy to press a thumb against his lips and Kyle opened his mouth like he'd never considered he could do anything else and sucked on it, working his tongue under the nail and just…biting. God. And people called him a slut.
There weren't any fasteners or openings, course there weren't, wasn’t like Kyle had to ship his uniform off to the drycleaners. Made him wonder, briefly, how other heroes who couldn't afford a new uniform every week did laundry.
"Strip some of this off," Ollie panted into his ear. "C'mon, kid, you gotta be able to concentrate enough for that."
"Ollie, this is crazy!" Almost a wail and Kyle bucked up against him, "You don't even like me."
Gasped laughter. "Yeah, I hate everyone like this," he squeezed Kyle's dick through his uniform, hard. "Come on, you twat, you can do this, open it up for me."
The most powerful weapon in the universe crap did come in handy when it came to creating a fly on a previously smooth uniform. Ollie couldn't even bitch that he'd made it a button-fly because it wasn't like he was the grand lord of concentration right now, was it. Then again, he'd been clever enough to design his uniform as a shirt and pants combo and not just for this. Taking a piss in a hurry would be a bitch if he'd had to strip from the neck down.
"Oh—oh, oh, oh, God, Ollie, oh, you bastard, I—"
"Shut UP, and just—yeah—" So hot, and Kyle was uncut which was, okay, weird, but it wasn't like Ollie was in any condition to care. Not when he could just reach between them and hold both their dicks together, both hands around them and one of Kyle's hands was on his, clutching. Not the one with the ring, that one was on Ollie's hip, the heel of his palm pressing hard and his broken fingers held carefully away and that was good too because he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to be jerked off with a glowing green weapon two inches from his balls.
"Oh!" Practically a whimper, it was a good sound on Kyle. Made him want to make the kid do it again, maybe add words to it, like 'please' and 'fuck'. It was Kyle's arm that was looped around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss, Kyle's tongue curled around his own, and Ollie just held on and held their cocks together and it was just plain fucking good, just plain fucking, shoving in close enough that his knuckles were tight against Kyle's belly. It was good to push into his own fist, fucking himself against Kyle's dick, humping and pushing like an idiot teenager. He wanted to come all over that black and green, smear it on that perfect hourglass shape.
Kyle wailed, loud and pained, and his dick pulsed against Ollie's hand, suddenly hot and slick, and that was just it that was all he could take today, and Ollie bit down as he came, heard Kyle's whimper sharpen and didn't fucking well care. The kid could take it.
Wet streaks painted the front of Kyle's uniform and Ollie wondered bemusedly which one of them had managed to shoot all the way up to the kid's chin.
"You—" The floor of the Watchtower was incredibly hard, especially when your ass was tossed on it. Kyle stood over him, hands curled into fists and his dick hanging out and his eyes glowing and…he knew exactly what Kyle was thinking.
"C'mon, kid." His smile felt as ugly as his tone. "I'm not down. You can kick me if you want to."
It made Kyle flinch, and Ollie wondered what he'd look like on his back, if he'd beg, if it would be good to be on top of him. A flare of green and they were both dressed and clean, everything tucked away and hidden.
Pity.
He was back at the monitors before Ollie was off the floor, and he just telegraphed pissed off with every jerky movement. His hands were shaking, just a little, a piece of the ragged tape on his fingers was torn almost completely loose.
Ollie stood behind him for a long time, silently, watched as he didn't settle down, didn't stop shaking. Didn't look at him with anything in his eyes. And that was just fine.
There was nothing of note on the monitors, nothing that needed their attention, yet. Ollie walked over to the transporter and readied himself for ten seconds of movement and ten minutes of puking. Time to get back to Earth.
They had a killer to catch.
-finis-
by Keelywolfe
Fandom: DC Universe
Pairing: Ollie/Kyle, (Green Arrow/Green Lantern)
Rated NC-17
Notes: Yeah, I've gone off the deep end. Set during Identity Crisis and after Flash #214 and The Talk between Ollie and Wally.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. Just playing with them. Thank you.
Summary: Ollie is tired of seeing things in other people's eyes.
~~*~~
Ollie really hated the Watchtower.
To be fair, it wasn't the place itself he hated, just the getting there but it really made the hatred spread through association. After he spent his traditional amount of time puking his guts out, and yeah, there was a reason a bathroom was located discreetly near the transporter, there wasn't much love to go around.
He didn't really need to be here.
Just about everyone else was out on call; there was a killer to catch but just now, after talking with Wally…
It was easier to be here. Just for a few minutes.
J'onn was somewhere, he was sure, keeping his own watch on the Earth but it was Kyle in the monitor room. The inner world of superheroes might have their world crashing down to the ankles but it didn't mean they could let the rest of the world go with it. Heroes never got much of a chance to just sit down and feel their own pain. That was a lesson they all learned, one of the first.
Kyle glanced up at him, gave him a mock little salute with the hand that wasn't a bunch of busted fingers, and it was suddenly good that it was Kyle here, with his pansy-ass uniform and his little sideways looks. A distraction. Ollie flung himself into one of the chairs and just looked at the kid. Watched him.
There was something about the kid, always had been. There was a word for it and Ollie always wanted to call it smug so he could hate it but really, when had it ever been that simple for him? It wasn't as if he'd liked the kid very much from the first moment they'd bumped shoulders. A shame that wasn't as much Kyle's fault as he wished it was, and Ollie could be an asshole from time to time, but he tried not to compound it with too much stupidity. Wally could be Flash; that was okay, that made sense, he'd earned his reds, but this kid wasn't supposed to be in the greens. He just…wasn't.
Stupid to feel that way, maybe, but he fucking well did, okay, and that was that.
Kyle wasn't anyone's old partner. Silences with Kyle weren't brittle and he'd never looked at Ollie like maybe he was only a peg or two down from a god, like Wally had, before he'd told Wally the truth and saw the change right in his eyes. He'd seen it in Roy's eyes, too, once. The defining moment when they realized the truth about the people they'd spent their lives worshiping.
Kyle was…something else. His eyes didn't see idols crashing to the ground or stumbling through hallways with feet of clay. He didn't know what Kyle saw.
It was the not knowing that pissed Ollie off. Royally. He drummed his fingers lightly on the arm of his chair and watched Kyle checking the monitors again. It was enough to make a guy wish for a catastrophe, nothing too bad, but just something to do. Something that wasn't about looking for a killer. Something.
"If I tell you that you're creeping me out, will you stop staring?" Kyle never took his eyes off the screens.
"Maybe."
Kyle sighed and finally turned his chair towards Ollie. "Look, I know why you're here and I am absolutely not in the mood to go into this right now."
"Don't know what you mean, kid." Ollie leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs, lounging in one of the most expensive, most high-tech, and ugliest chairs science could provide.
There it was, in the faint tightness of his lips, an irritation that had nothing to do with annoying parental figures even though Ollie was sure that behind those white lenses Kyle had just rolled his eyes. "Oh, please, give me just a little credit for intelligence? Wally already tried to hand you an assload of high and mighty and you're waiting for me to give it a try."
One of the strips of tape binding his fingers was coming loose and Kyle toyed with the ragged end absently. Ollie was quite sure he never noticed his fingers brushing against his ring, over and over. Nervous gesture, bad habit. Probably never noticed he did it when his finger was bare, too.
He was already turning back to the monitors. "I don't have anything to say about it right now, all right? So go find something else to sulk about. I have enough existential angst of my own, thanks."
"Bet you do."
He spun in his chair fast enough to impress even Wally. "Don't do this right now!" he snarled. "I don't have any absolution or condemnation for you, okay? Go look for it with someone else, I—"
It was always easiest to shut people up with a fist, but Ollie'd figured out that using your mouth worked almost as well, and saved a lot of money in dentist bills, too.
Really, the kid did all right but he could still use a little more training; maybe he just needed the right person to kick him in the ass. Because sometimes he didn't even think to use the ring and his reactions were the same as any guy's would be who suddenly had someone else's tongue in his mouth. Hands on Ollie's upper arms, flexing but not pushing away, not just yet, and he smelled like that cheap cologne crap that all the young guys seem to wear these days, and tasted like coffee. He wasn't Hal, never would be, and right now that suited Ollie just fine.
It didn't take him long to recover enough to push Ollie back and he went without protest, just far enough that he could lean on the arms of Kyle's chair. Kyle lips were damp and pink and he licked his lower lip nervously. The fresh wet gleam made his mouth look even better.
"Wh—why did…wha—I don't…why does everyone always think I'm gay?" he blurted.
"Don't take it so hard, Connor gets that a lot, too."
He was ready for it this time, wary, and that was good. Meant the kid could actually learn from his mistakes. Didn't much stop Ollie from kissing him again, but he still saw the curl of green light from his ring as Kyle tried to come up with something to push him away, probably even something that wouldn't hurt too much because he'd figure it would just be so rude to kill the crazy old JLA guy who was sucking on his lower lip. Soft touch, this kid, probably making a nice, padded hand to toss Ollie across the room before he locked him up in a nice, padded room.
Almost had it too. And lost it promptly when Ollie gave his crotch a nice, friendly squeeze.
"Oh!" Soft and sharp, right into Ollie's mouth, and yeah, Kyle was still young enough to think with his dick and, eh, wasn't like Ollie could fault him for that. If he lived long enough for Roy to stuff him into one of those homes for old people to rot out the ends of their days, Ollie'd be sneaking into the ladies' rooms at night, getting a gumjob and that was really not the thing to be thinking right now. Kyle had plenty of teeth, sharp ones that were trying to take a chunk out of him.
Ollie pushed down on the hard bulge of Kyle's cock almost brutally with his thumbs, muffled the yelp with his own mouth. Hands on his wrists, and one of them was strong enough, maybe, to pull him away, strong enough to try, anyway, but they didn't. Bingo.
"So tell me no, kid," Ollie whispered. He licked Kyle's mouth wetly and wished he could see the wide eyes that had to go with the way the kid was breathing, harsh and fast. "I'm a skirt chaser, right? I cheat on my women and we both know you're not gay."
"Christ, you're fucked up, I—ah!" Kyle tipped his head back, arching away from the chair and into Ollie's hands. Just where he wanted him, and Kyle wasn't Wally or Roy with those damnable betrayed eyes, he was something else and it made Ollie bite softly at the line of his jaw, licking the stubble-rough skin until his tongue felt raw. The chairs were strong and expensive and just big enough for two people if one of them was straddling the other. It let Ollie be close enough to lick at the little hollow at the base of Kyle's throat, just over the collar, fucking dog collar, it was, but hell, the kid made it look good. That should count for something.
The teleporter was just across the room and anyone who came up here would see them like this, Superman, maybe, Flash. Dinah. Two men in shades of green, and Ollie's hands between them, fumbling and stroking, and Kyle squirmed in all the best ways possible. It made it easy to press a thumb against his lips and Kyle opened his mouth like he'd never considered he could do anything else and sucked on it, working his tongue under the nail and just…biting. God. And people called him a slut.
There weren't any fasteners or openings, course there weren't, wasn’t like Kyle had to ship his uniform off to the drycleaners. Made him wonder, briefly, how other heroes who couldn't afford a new uniform every week did laundry.
"Strip some of this off," Ollie panted into his ear. "C'mon, kid, you gotta be able to concentrate enough for that."
"Ollie, this is crazy!" Almost a wail and Kyle bucked up against him, "You don't even like me."
Gasped laughter. "Yeah, I hate everyone like this," he squeezed Kyle's dick through his uniform, hard. "Come on, you twat, you can do this, open it up for me."
The most powerful weapon in the universe crap did come in handy when it came to creating a fly on a previously smooth uniform. Ollie couldn't even bitch that he'd made it a button-fly because it wasn't like he was the grand lord of concentration right now, was it. Then again, he'd been clever enough to design his uniform as a shirt and pants combo and not just for this. Taking a piss in a hurry would be a bitch if he'd had to strip from the neck down.
"Oh—oh, oh, oh, God, Ollie, oh, you bastard, I—"
"Shut UP, and just—yeah—" So hot, and Kyle was uncut which was, okay, weird, but it wasn't like Ollie was in any condition to care. Not when he could just reach between them and hold both their dicks together, both hands around them and one of Kyle's hands was on his, clutching. Not the one with the ring, that one was on Ollie's hip, the heel of his palm pressing hard and his broken fingers held carefully away and that was good too because he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to be jerked off with a glowing green weapon two inches from his balls.
"Oh!" Practically a whimper, it was a good sound on Kyle. Made him want to make the kid do it again, maybe add words to it, like 'please' and 'fuck'. It was Kyle's arm that was looped around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss, Kyle's tongue curled around his own, and Ollie just held on and held their cocks together and it was just plain fucking good, just plain fucking, shoving in close enough that his knuckles were tight against Kyle's belly. It was good to push into his own fist, fucking himself against Kyle's dick, humping and pushing like an idiot teenager. He wanted to come all over that black and green, smear it on that perfect hourglass shape.
Kyle wailed, loud and pained, and his dick pulsed against Ollie's hand, suddenly hot and slick, and that was just it that was all he could take today, and Ollie bit down as he came, heard Kyle's whimper sharpen and didn't fucking well care. The kid could take it.
Wet streaks painted the front of Kyle's uniform and Ollie wondered bemusedly which one of them had managed to shoot all the way up to the kid's chin.
"You—" The floor of the Watchtower was incredibly hard, especially when your ass was tossed on it. Kyle stood over him, hands curled into fists and his dick hanging out and his eyes glowing and…he knew exactly what Kyle was thinking.
"C'mon, kid." His smile felt as ugly as his tone. "I'm not down. You can kick me if you want to."
It made Kyle flinch, and Ollie wondered what he'd look like on his back, if he'd beg, if it would be good to be on top of him. A flare of green and they were both dressed and clean, everything tucked away and hidden.
Pity.
He was back at the monitors before Ollie was off the floor, and he just telegraphed pissed off with every jerky movement. His hands were shaking, just a little, a piece of the ragged tape on his fingers was torn almost completely loose.
Ollie stood behind him for a long time, silently, watched as he didn't settle down, didn't stop shaking. Didn't look at him with anything in his eyes. And that was just fine.
There was nothing of note on the monitors, nothing that needed their attention, yet. Ollie walked over to the transporter and readied himself for ten seconds of movement and ten minutes of puking. Time to get back to Earth.
They had a killer to catch.
-finis-