Te: *idly ponders Barry/Wally*
Te: *idly ponders SEPPUKU*
LC: *HEE HEE HEE*
LC: IT'S BEEN DONE.
Te: I KNOW
LC: You set a scary, dangerous precedent for this fandom, man.
Te: But. Not. <small>The way it is in my head.</small>
LC: *heh* and how is that?
Te: But hmm. Barrence and Wally.
LC: *snickering* BARRENCE.
LC: ...sorry. carry on.
Te: See, the thing is... I know SO LITTLE [about them, relatively.]
Te: But.
LC: I know a great deal more about Wally's feelings about Barry than
I do about anything that actually happened...

Te: Wally would've done anything to get away from his
parents and ANYTHING to be with the Flash, his hero.

And when he gets those powers, it's like every Christmas
and birthday ever.

The way Christmases and birthdays are *supposed* to
be, like on television.

And Uncle Barry is so *smart*, he knows things -- he
*does* things with the power that Wally wouldn't have
thought of in a million years.

And so it's kind of... well. It was *one* thing to be Wally
West and looking up -- *always* up -- at the Flash,
because he was the *Flash*. And for a little while
afterward, he was *still* the Flash, even though he was
also Uncle Barry. But being Kid Flash means that he
doesn't just get to see the Flash, he gets to hear him,
and learn from him, and *know* him.
 
All the things plain old Wally West, poor Wally West,
stuck in the middle of nowhere with crappy parents --
they *are*, he doesn't have to be 'polite' in his own
head, not for *anyone* -- Wally *West* never would've
gotten to see.

It's actually a little scary. Because knowing Uncle Barry
is one of the smartest people *ever* is one thing, and
knowing the Flash is one of the most *powerful* people
ever is another thing, but mixing the two together...
 
Sometimes he's just hanging out in the lab (anytime he
can, just -- *any time he can*), and Uncle Barry is in his
coat and he's not doing anything interesting. Maybe
just *paperwork*, and Wally will look over from where
he's trying really hard not to tap his foot so fast that he
breaks the floor tiles (again), and Uncle Barry will have
this *look* on his face.
 
Serious and curious at the same time, and Wally just
knows that he's thinking of something amazing and
impossible and...

Sometimes it makes it hard to breathe around Uncle
Barry, hard to *be* around Uncle Barry, even though it's
the best thing that's ever happened, even though he
doesn't know (run. He'd *run*) what he'd do if Uncle
Barry said he *couldn't* hang around anymore.
 
His parents made him feel stupid for years before he
figured out the score. He *knows* the score, but Uncle
Barry still makes him feel stupid and small, even though
he doesn't mean it.
 
Wally's read all the books he *can*, but it never stays,
no matter what he does, and when Uncle Barry starts
talking about spectrographical analysis and DNA and --
 
It's hard, is all.

And he'll run around the state a few times, or maybe up
to Gotham if it's the afternoon and Dick is between
school and training, and then he'll run back and Uncle
Barry will shake his head, and start wondering out loud
what would've happened if *he'd* gotten his powers
when he was fourteen.
 
Usually, it's okay. He'll say something stupid like "*this*
boy's gotta *run*," and Uncle Barry will ruffle his hair.
 
Sometimes it's not really okay at all, and the rueful,
*gentle* amusement in Uncle Barry's eyes makes him
feel like he's been jerking off or something, instead of
just teasing Dick until he frowned like Bruce and
started lecturing.

And he winds up blushing -- always, like now -- and
Uncle Barry frowns at him.
 
"What's up, kiddo?"
 
Really *not* the question to ask a teenager with
superspeed who'd just been thinking about (Dick) jerking
off.
 
Sometimes he just shrugs or something else *idiotic*
and runs again. Sometimes he just runs.
 
Sometimes Uncle Barry's hands are on his shoulders so
fast that all he can do is vibrate.
 
Right now, again, and Uncle Barry matches his resonance
for just a second (forever, but he knows it's a second) and
that's it, that's all. Wally's rock hard in his shorts and
blushing.

The worst is when Uncle *Barry* blushes, because then...
then he lets *go*, and waves a hand casually -- *not*
casually -- at the door leading to his mostly private
bathroom, and Wally winds up jerking off until he's raw,
until he's healed, until he's raw again and crying a little.

Sometimes Uncle Barry doesn't blush at all, though.
Sometimes he flushes, and laughs like it's okay -- it's *not*,
it *can't* be -- and sometimes Wally manages to moan
before Uncle Barry has one hand in his pants and the
other over his mouth.
 
Sometimes Uncle Barry *lets* him --
 
"It's okay, it's okay, kiddo, I understand."
 
He doesn't. He can't. He's the Flash, and before that he
was smart and everybody liked him and *his* mom
baked pies, and --
 
"It won't always be like this," he says, and maybe he's
right.
 
Uncle Barry is *smart*. And the first time he always jerks
Wally *hard*, and not fast enough. After Wally comes,
he can do it faster. And faster after that until Wally's
screaming -- trying not to *trying* they *can't* get caught --
against Uncle Barry's palm and just trying to stay on his
feet.

"It's okay," Uncle Barry says, and Wally can't stay up at
all.
 
It's better when he just winds up on the floor, when he
can reach for Uncle Barry and vibrate until he knows for
sure Uncle Barry is *hard*, when Uncle Barry says,
 
"Oh," and then his dick is in Wally's mouth like it's never
been anywhere else. Just that fast.
 
And Uncle Barry frowns, and pants, and *fucks* his
mouth, so hard and so fast that Wally's
numb-hurting-numb, and Uncle Barry's come is a little
sweeter than his own, a little better.

Sometimes, though -- now -- by the time Uncle Barry lets
him go, he's by the desk, and when he falls he's *on* the
desk -- *always* clean, *always* room -- and Uncle Barry
will squeeze his face like he's trying to say something,
and Wally will whimper.
 
Just a few seconds -- *forever* -- and he'll be okay to
move, be on his feet, but Uncle Barry is so much faster,
and Wally's jeans are around his knees, and the lubricant
is wet and thin and slick and *hot* --
 
Uncle Barry -- *Flash* --
 
And Wally shakes until the desk moves --
 
"*Wally*."
 
And whimpers, because he's supposed to have more
control than that. He *has* to have more control than that.

There's never enough time to apologize before Uncle
Barry is thrusting, *pushing* with his finger -- his *fingers*.
In and out in out in out and Wally's trying to hold on,
trying not to cry out.
 
Uncle Barry *needs* to keep one hand on Wally's hip,
needs to keep him still.
 
"It's all right. I've -- I've got you, kiddo..."
 
And Wally bites his lip and sucks back the blood and
bites and sucks and it's too fast for anyone to see,
except for Uncle Barry, who *knows*.
 
"Sweet -- sweet heaven --"
 
Uncle Barry *in* him, and holding him, and neither of
them can do this the right way, the way the *real*
humans can. Uncle Barry moves them both, but he's
the Flash, so the rhythm is perfect.
 
The desk doesn't move, and every thrust --
 
He does it so *slow*, except for how the friction is
killing him -- *always* -- making him hot, making him
*sweat*.

It's better -- best -- like this, because Wally can hold
on with one hand and shove the other in his mouth
so he doesn't just say "Fuck oh fuck Uncle Barry
please fuck" over and over again.
 
"I've *got* you," Uncle Barry says, and it's so true and
real and *true* that Wally comes all over his own chest
and belly, that his toes curl uncurl curl *curl* against
the starched shoulders of Uncle Barry's coat, that he's
hard again, needing again, and Uncle Barry laughs,
so gently.
 
And fucks him harder, because he knows Wally needs
it.

After, the clock has only moved ahead two minutes --
three, when Uncle Barry does it *again* -- and Wally
is sticky and sore --
 
Sticky and fine, vibrating just a little, a low frequency that
Uncle Barry matches easily while Wally fixes his clothes.
 
"Okay?"
 
Wally nods. It is. He is.
 
It's just that it's different from how he thought it would be.