Three Sheets
Ooh, Speed really should have known better.
He really really really really really should have known better.
He’d only been dating Lash since freshman year. He’d only seen him do this a million times before.
But nooo.... Stronghold and Peace invite them along to some stupid party at some big name nightclub that Stronghold was apparently investing heavily in. And Speed, in the interest of making up for all the crap they’d kind of put the guys through a few years ago, had decided to go.
Now Lash was three sheets to the wind, and Speed had apparently had a momentary lapse in sanity when he’d agreed to come, because Lash was nothing if not affectionate when drunk.
Speed nearly jumped, finding himself abruptly with a lapful of Lash, who practically melted onto his lap. Lash draped his arms over Speed’s shoulders, legs wrapped around his waist, and nuzzled into Speed’s neck, practically purring.
“Um, Lash, hun, are you all right?” Speed asked, warily.
“Never better,” Lash murmured, licking Speed’s neck.
“Uh, look...” Speed tried to pry his clinging boyfriend off, looking around the bar warily. Sure, the whole place was dropped into strobe lights and pretty much dark confusion, but there was always the possibility that someone who didn’t take too kindly to same-sex couples was around. “Maybe you should get off me, huh?”
“Don’t wanna,” Lash muttered, nibbling now, too.
“Okay, look, up!” Speed insisted, standing firmly, dragging Lash up with him. “How about... how about we dance! You like dancing.”
“Ooh!” Lash grinned, snatching up Speed’s hand instead of his neck, and dragged him onto the dance floor, only stumbling a little.
Okay, Speed should have known better.
Lash was even worse on the dance floor. He was all over Speed, hands sliding up his chest, over his neck, then down his back, Lash sinewed and ground against him as though they were having vertical sex, taking every opportunity he could to lick and kiss and nibble at Speed’s skin. Speed tried, many, many times to get him to stop, but eventually he gave up and resigned himself to this fate, hoping desperately that no one decided to try and hurt them, or that maybe no one would realize they were both male. Lash could be kind of girly, sometimes.
But then Lash did something that made him completely forget about their surroundings.
Reaching up, Lash cupped Speed’s face, and leaned in to kiss him, pouring heart, and soul, and strawberry daiquiri breath into that kiss, and Speed melted, throwing his arms around his boyfriend’s tiny waist and squeezing a little. Lash was hot, and Speed loved him. He really did.
“Hey,” a voice said when at last Lash pulled his lips away, content to sway together, and Speed froze.
Turning slowly, he peered at the speaker, which turned out to be Stronghold.
A grinning, mischievous looking Stronghold.
“I didn’t know you two were together,” Stronghold grinned.
“Umm... well,” Speed swallowed. Shit. If a homophobic Stronghold started beating on them they were so dead...
“Should’ve figured it out,” Stronghold laughed, shrugging. “I mean, it was kind of obvious, wasn’t it?”
Speed laughed weakly. “Yeah, I guess...”
“Stronghold!” another voice called, and before Speed could sneak away with his drunk boyfriend, Peace appeared behind the younger hero, and dropped his arms around Stronghold’s neck, hugging him back into his body. Leaning down, he kissed Stronghold’s shoulder, then said, “Magenta and Layla are going home. Apparently the hippie’s horny.”
Stronghold laughed. “She gets like that when she’s drunk. Hope Maj’s got good stamina.”
“Wait...” Speed said slowly, warily. “You’re gay? And your friend’s are, too?”
Stronghold blinked at him. “Yeah.”
Speed opened and closed his mouth a few times, then stopped, and shook his head. “Good to know, thank you.”
Then he turned to his boyfriend, and proceeded to kiss him senseless.
Not like he really had to worry about homophobes anymore, not if Stronghold and Peace and the hippie and the purple chick were gay. They’d just beat up anyone who had a problem with them.
All Speed had to worry about now... was Lash’s hands.
Elastic limbs apparently lead to greater potential groping moments.
Go back to Sky High.