1) No one is mine.
2) Jack's fault.
3) Jack's title, too. :D

*

He's not jealous. Mostly.

Virgil -- Static -- gets to play with the big boys, and that's just the way it is. He
doesn't need to check the messages on his cell to know that Virgil *would*
have brought him along this time if he'd been around -- Virgil is pretty much
the only person other than his mom who *does* call his cell -- and there
they are, three blinking messages that he doesn't need to listen to, because
the news is on.

Gotham, and another Arkham breakout. You can't miss Robin or Static, and
he's gotten good at paying attention to the edges of the shots -- Nightwing
and Batman were there, too. He kind of wonders where Batgirl is -- her hair
makes it easy to spot her, too, usually -- but they probably called Static in
because they couldn't get *her*.

Makes sense.

And now the good stuff is over, and the Gotham Police Commissioner is
giving a statement, and Richie checks his phone again, this to make sure
it's on -- he figures he's got maybe another ten pint seven minutes before
Virgil calls with the "Where *were* you?" and the "Man, you would *not*
believe..."

Or, well, seven point ten seconds before he has to shade his eyes from the
glare of Virgil -- *Static* -- showing up outside his window.

Richie grins to himself and shakes his head, double-checking to make sure
his door is closed and the TV volume is up *just* high enough to cover
any suspicious noises, but not loud enough to get his Mom banging on
the door. And by the time he gets to the window, there's a neat and
*serious* line of electricity surrounding the window, almost like --

"*Jeez*, Virgil!"

He opens the window fast, yanking his hands back to shake off the mild,
buzzing burn.

"Were you trying to rip it out --"

Of the wall, he was going to say, but he doesn't really get the chance
to, because Virgil hits his midsection pretty hard, slamming him back
on the bed -- and to the floor. And, okay, something's going on. He
looks over Virgil's shoulder for whatever it is that was about to zap
them or shoot them or whatever, but all he can see is sky.

"What --"

"Richie."

That's Virgil's pay-attention voice. Sort of. It's a little off. Still... "I'm
listening."

Virgil slides his hands up to Richie's shoulders and squeezes. "It's
good to see you."

"Um... okay? What's going on?"

He doesn't get an answer to that so much as a low and really kind
of *interesting* humming sound, and an even more interesting
smile. And it's not like Virgil doesn't smile all the time -- it's not like
*he's* Batman or anything -- but Virgil doesn't really smile like
*this* that often. All knowing and... hungry. Like he's about to
do something he really wouldn't.

Except that maybe he would.

Except that he totally *is*, if Richie defines 'something' as licking
his neck. He feels his hands twitch. He feels his *mind* twitch,
because this isn't really -- and Virgil *wouldn't* -- but he's also --

"Virg...?" His own voice sounds high and *tight*, and he's seriously
going to try again -- he is *not* twelve anymore, thank you very
much -- but trying again just really means *moaning*, because
Virgil is *sucking on his neck*. And not in the scary
meta-vampire-creature way, which would actually be kind of reassuring
right now, in a weird way, and he really needs to do something.

'Something,' in this case, being tilting his head back and *twitching*
a little more, and Richie doesn't really think he can be blamed for that,
because Virgil *has* smiled like that before, but he hasn't *done*
anything, and his new suit is sleeveless and the sucking really, really,
*really* feels good.

"Uh," he manages, and gets his hands on Virgil's waist, and gets
another one of those humming noises. Really, it's almost a *purring*
noise, and Virgil is straddling Richie's hips and *purring*, and he's
almost sure there's something wrong with this picture, but he's a
smart guy. He'll figure it out eventually.

Sometime after Virgil stops smiling like that, with his lips all soft and
wet-looking, and getting close, close enough to *kiss*.

"Dude," he says, and leans up into it, and Virgil's tongue just sweeps
into his mouth like it's all of him or something, like his mouth is
enemy territory and it's time to kick some ass and take some names,
and Richie making less and less sense to *himself* as time passes,
but Virgil's got one hand in his hair and the other yanking on his
t-shirt, pulling it up and out of the way, and Virgil kisses *exactly* like
a person bound and determined to make Richie lose his mind, and
frankly?

He can *go* with that.

He moans into Virgil's mouth and kisses him right back, licking into
his mouth and getting his tongue *nipped* on, and Richie is pretty
sure he has between forty-three and seventy-eight seconds before
he's hard enough to be either deeply uncomfortable or deeply
happy that Virgil is straddling him right *there*. It's a difficult call,
as he can't say he's ever been in in *quite* this position before.

Richie is most assuredly willing to experiment. All for the cause of
knowledge and... and... *stuff*, really important stuff, like the way a
few of Virgil's dreds are stroking and tickling Richie's ear, and the
way the purring noises are kind of *growling* noises, now, and
Richie thinks he maybe sees something out of the corner of his eye,
but it's nowhere *near* as important as the way Virgil's hot and
faintly damp hand is moving on his chest.

Or it isn't, and then it really is, because Virgil is... slowing down. In
a really noticeable way that Richie thinks is going to *break* his
mind, because this isn't -- Virgil isn't --

Virgil most definitely *is* half-rolling, half-*falling* off of Richie,
because that's a tranquilizer dart in the back of his neck.

"Oh, crap."

"Gear," and Batman *and* Robin are right there, making his
window look really small and crowded.

"Wha....?"

"Poison Ivy blasted Static with something before he took her down,"
Robin says, eyeing Virgil speculatively. "Something *interesting*, I'd
say."

"We need to get him back to the Cave for treatment." Batman's
tone is somewhere between "we need to get milk from the grocery
store," and "don't make me hurt you."

"But -- *ow*!" Richie looks down and there's a dart in his arm. "She
didn't get *me*!"

Robin beams at him, blowing imaginary smoke off the barrel of his
gun. "Can't take chances, Gear. Static might be *contagious*."

And really, he'd like to protest that -- and a lot of other things,
besides -- but mostly he just kind of wants to nap.

'Jealous' really isn't the right word for how he feels about the way
Static plays with the big boys.