shankie | We'll Always Have Metropolis

I saw Brokeback Mountain. This is what happened.

I doubt it would have ever been finished without

wachey’s beta and help, and

ilyena_sylph also made me stop being so self-conscious with her thoughts, so thank you. This story was both written very quickly and very slowly, in that the first few time periods all came out in a few hours, followed by editing, nitpicking, and figuring out the end since my freakin’ birthday in the third week of November. Building DCAU Kyle, with a dash of Hal as he is there, and making this all right had me stuck.

I just discovered it's too possible to make a post too large, thus, it's broken up into two posts. Gracious.

We'll Always Have Metropolis

Kyle/Wally, Toonverse.

R: Lots and lots of sexual language, explicit sex, canon (and temporary) character death, and inevitable angst. References to In Brightest Day, Hearts & Minds, Hereafter, Starcrossed, The Return, Flash & Substance, and Destroyer. Begins right after In Brightest Day.
13k+ words

When Kyle Rayner begins working with the Flash on a comic book, art becomes a secondary concern. When he's called to Oa for training, and it turns into a fifteen year tour of duty far from home, there are some things on Earth that keep calling him back.

- Metropolis, Part One -

Kyle had sometimes thought about what it would be like to be a superhero; all that power, fanfare, like rock stars with extra gratitude that returned to menial lives and struggled to hide their inner awesomeness from the world.

Reality was... different. He still struggled to control the ring, still not sure if he even wanted any of this, and found art a welcome escape from all that. Kyle still drew superheroes, both real ones and his own doodles, but they were different now; he looked at his reference shots in a different light, wondering if Superman ever had this much trouble starting out. It was hard to imagine he'd have trouble with anything. At least he didn't worry about rejection letters anymore.

He had until the end of the summer then he was reporting to Oa for training while a replacement took over for his sector. Exciting, sure; but mostly terrifying.

The tip of his pencil snapped and dug into the paper, and he tossed it aside, sparking the ring and suiting up as he sailed out his apartment's window and into the night sky above the city.

Superman really needed a super-signal, he decided, and put one up in the clouds as he waited on top of the Daily Planet globe, feeling like an idiot.

"There's easier ways to get a hold of me," a deep voice rang out, and he took the light down, floating up next to a very amused looking Superman.

"Start smashing up downtown?"

"With this," he said, and handed him an unassuming looking watch. "What's on your mind?"

Kyle tucked it away, and tried to think of what to say, now that he had the big guy's attention.

"I, um... heh. You know what I did this morning? The ring led me to this Russian sub that was about to have a meltdown and I contained the explosion in the reactor."

"So I saw in the papers."

"Yeah, well... how do you handle this pressure all the time?"

"It's... difficult, sometimes." Superman looked regal as he looked down over his city thoughtfully, cape flapping in the updraft from the street. "You know, you aren't the only person who's new to all this. Maybe you should find one of them. I wish I could say it gets easier... but someone to talk to always helps. Who can relate."

Advice that was incredibly corny and cliché; Kyle shrugged. "I'll think about it. Thanks."

At first, he completely disregarded the suggestion; he didn't need to talk to anyone, not if even Superman could help, so what was the point?

He drew his ads for the Planet and ring-slinging on the side, and figured this was the part where it was getting easier; no sweat. But his deadline felt like it was getting unnervingly close, and he still came home every night buzzing full of stress.

"I totally need a hobby." Kyle poured over his sketches, trying to put together something he could work on in his head.

Of course; he could make a comic book, about himself.

He spent the rest of the night sketching out panels, still working out the plot as he went along, and had ten good pages of action when his alarm clock went off.

Not sleeping had, perhaps... been a mistake. Despite gallons of coffee, he almost fell asleep on his work over and over again. After lunch, he was chased out of the newsroom when he bumped into Perry and got soda all over his vest.

The ring began sparking and he was relieved, ducking outside and suiting up to chase down the alert, and it was a doozy; Parasite had busted loose and was giving Supes all kinds of trouble, and someone was taking advantage of it by unleashing three giant blue robots on downtown. Metropolis never ceased to amaze, and he revved up for battle, channeling all the willpower he had into a giant clamp for the first one, hauling it off the ground with a grunt of effort as it slammed into the second, and they toppled onto some cars in a chaos of beeping alarms.

Always, it was giant robots.

He became distracted by a third, who was drawn away from his attempt to topple the overpass and started shooting rockets at Kyle's shields, automatically flying up to protect him. He growled and made a fist, building giant green fists that he sent pummeling into the metal, grinning as it began to spark and dent. A giant axe did it in, and he dusted off his hands, gloating a little as it slowly fell over in a heap.

He forgot all about the other two, which hit him with rockets that were deflected, but sent him off-balance and straight into the dirt.

Kyle grunted and pulled himself up, looking to finish what he'd started, but it looked like someone else was doing it for him. At first, he thought the red blur was Superman, disassembling the arms and legs of the robots and leaving them to fall in a pile of useless pieces in the broken pavement.

"You really aught to keep a closer eye on your toys." The Flash appeared next to him, offering a hand up that he begrudgingly accepted, not much for being upstaged.

He was all lean muscle under what cover the red spandex costume offered; Kyle's own wasn't much better, and Supes had the tights, but something about the bright red set off every line of him, and he could have been naked. Even if he couldn't see his face, except for a wicked grin. He could feel heat radiating through their costumes as the Flash pulled him off the ground, struck by the energy coming off him that Kyle held the grip a little longer than he should have, pulling away to dust himself off.

"Uh, thanks for the assist."

"I was in the area, and I do love fighting robots," he said, looking rather pleased with himself. "If you're ever in Central City, look me up."

The Flash winked, and true to his name, was gone in a streak of red.

"Asshole," Kyle muttered, but smiled in the direction he'd vanished off to. He could have handled those tin cans by himself.

Superman was already done with Parasite, watching as S.T.A.R. Labs was packing him up to be locked up again, hopefully for the last time, but who knew. Kyle headed back to the Planet and his exhaustion hit again... the day couldn't go by quick enough.

Drawing a little dog selling ice cream wasn't capturing his attention, and he got up to track down some coffee for the umpteenth time that day, swinging up to the newsroom to find Jimmy for any requests. Perry was thankfully gone, and Jimmy was where he usually was, hero-worshipping Clark Kent.

"Guys, making a coffee run, any orders?"

Clark looked over his glasses distractedly and smiled, but shook his head.

"Big mocha latte with extra whipped cream," Jimmy said, the camera around his neck swinging as he shifted.

"And a no-fat hazelnut, while you're at it," Lois cut in, pushing Kyle and Jimmy out of the way. "Smallville, what did you get on this Parasite thing? I, for one, would like to know how he escaped, yet again."

"Aren't you still on the mob story?"

"Ferretti can wait."

"No-fat hazelnut it is," Kyle said, pulling his jacket on as he headed out to the elevators.

He passed a news vendor on the street outside, turning back to stop and flip through a superhero rag. He was in it, which was cool, even if the photos were bad, and there was an interview with the Flash in the center next to a toothy grinned picture that was... much better. It was hard to imagine this guy being worried about the spandex, flaunting every attribute he had.

SU!: Are you seeing anyone right now?

F: Seeing, sure. I might not have been at this long, you know, being seen as something besides a sidekick, and well... I've been getting my share of attention. But nobody serious.

SU!: What else has changed for you since taking on the mantle of the Flash?

F: It's a lot more responsibility, definitely. But I can't complain, it's the best job in the world.

Kyle paid the vendor and folded it in his jacket, not taking another look at it, but considering that in his haze of being half-asleep.

Lois and Jimmy were still hovering around Clark's desk, accepting the coffees and rushing off with them like junkies looking to enjoy their fix, and Kyle watched Clark type for a minute.

"So, Clark, you get a hold of Superman, right?" Clark stopped typing and adjusted his glasses as he looked up. "I mean, you're always the one with the big stories on him, and I hear you like... call him up... or something..." Kyle rubbed the back of his neck and hoped he wasn't coming off totally lame. "What I'm asking is, how would you go about... calling a superhero?"

"Someone in particular?" Clark asked curiously. "Some are easier to contact than others... you could try leaving a message with the police department."

"The police?"

Clark shrugged. "From what I know, it's who they keep in touch with the most, for the most part."

"Huh. Thanks."

An even easier way would be to just fly there, but Kyle was all about making this secret identity thing a big... buffer. He could only think of one good excuse he'd have to want to contact the Flash, and the costume wasn't it.

Kyle left his name and a message with an amused dispatcher with the Central City P.D. and waited. She didn't seem too enthusiastic about being a messenger, and might not even help him, after all.

He got home, and was busy cooking up some ramen when the phone rang; boiling water splashed all over the floor and he managed to turn off the stove and not burn himself in the scramble to answer it.

"I hear you're lookin' for me."

"Yeah, uh, my name is Kyle Rayner, I'm an artist..."

"Hold on, I hate these things. Where are you?"

"Metropolis."

"A little more specific than that, I think," he said impatiently.

"147 River Street, apartment nineteen..." he'd not finished his sentence before the line went dead, and there was a knock on the door.

Kyle hung up, brushed some stray noodles off his jeans, and answered it; it's one thing to expect a costumed superhero to show up at your door, and quite another for it to happen, and he was a little speechless at the cocky six-foot athlete in red still looking a little impatient.

"An artist, huh?" He let himself in, zipping around and threatening to blow paper everywhere as he looked over the artwork laid around the place, some mounted on the walls. "Not bad. I, for one, have an incomparable grasp of the stick figure.” He tilted his head at a figure charcoal then faced Kyle brightly. “So, where do I fit in?"

"Well, I'm working on a comic book. And I thought it would be cool if, maybe... you could pose for me."

Flash stopped, looking at him like he'd told some strange joke, cleaned up the ramen in the kitchen, and vanished only to re-appear with Chinese take-out. "Picasso, I'm all yours."

It continued, every night for a week, Kyle would come home, and the Flash would show up soon after with a fast food buffet. He would pick at it, while sketching. Sometimes, he would get out panels, but usually... he would get stuck in some aspect of Flash's anatomy that he would draw out in detail. The nude models in college were never this inspiring.

His subject must have noticed this, but never mentioned it; although he was brimming with constant questions. He wanted to know everything about what Kyle was doing, what the art around the place meant, if the soup ad contained some deeper meaning.

He was lost in the way his thighs flexed when pulled up a certain way, and had the Flash lounging in his easy chair with a light on him... but he wouldn't stop moving. Not ever, but Kyle had finally had enough of trying to work through his jumping around, charcoal smudged all over his fingers as he grabbed the Flash by the shoulders and pushed him back sitting down.

It threw off his center of balance, but he wasn't wearing the ring for it to stop him from tripping and falling right in his lap, all too aware that they were rubbing together provocatively, and his face was... so close him.

The Flash didn't look surprised for long, looking down at the black smudges on his uniform.

His breath was hot and heavy on Kyle's skin, and they leapt on each other, Kyle thoughtlessly burning for a body like a Greek statue that was warm beneath him, roughly bruising his lips as he kissed him.

They couldn't get their clothes off fast enough, so it was a good thing super-speed was involved, tearing each other to bare skin; the cowl came off, and Kyle had to stop a moment to take in the finished portrait of the other man; wild red hair, a few strands still pressed against his forehead from the cowl, dusted over his tanned chest and vividly bright as it grew curly at the base of his dick.

Of course he had red hair.

They fumbled and groped at each other, neither quite sure of where to go, but desperate for it, tangled and pulling, grinding and moaning until they came, again and again, the Flash endlessly hard and yearning and Kyle running on willpower and lust, without a word as they devoured one another's bodies until neither could take it anymore, and they collapsed on his couch. His little apartment now smelled like sex, giving it a kind of previously absent atmosphere.

After a little while, the Flash got up, pulled his uniform back on, and hesitated putting the cowl back on.

"So, same time tomorrow?"

"Uh, sure," Kyle mumbled, pulling himself together. In a gust of wind, he was alone.

He pulled on some pants, and returned to the interrupted sketch, finishing it from memory, without the uniform.

It was frequently absent from later drawings.

Flash liked to lay naked on his couch, tossing crumpled pieces of paper at Kyle until he retaliated, and it soon spiraled into aggressive if still sometimes awkward sex. Penetration that was at first more painful than pleasurable, even as it satisfied their lust, but everything began to fit together so… perfectly.

Kyle was sore and happy collapsed on top of him, content in a way he never thought possible. On top of the world. He cuddled a little closer and groaned contently, thinking it silly he still didn't really know who the Flash was.

"What's your name?"

The Flash just grinned, and let him wonder a little longer.

The next day, he was sketching fuzzy kittens at work, looking forward to going home, when a familiar breeze made him look up.

Standing beside his desk was the Flash, in snug jeans, a green shirt with the top buttons undone over a white undershirt, reaching out his hand and grinning.

"Hi, my name's Wally West. We've never been properly introduced."

Kyle left for lunch early, and they stopped in a diner down the street, awkwardly quiet until they'd ordered, and were left looking at each other over the table in the booth.

Wally began playing with his fork, and it was strange to think of him this way, as a real person.

"So, you're... from Central City?"

"Yup, last year of school. Looking to follow my uncle's lead, forensics," he said, now trying to balance the spoon on the upturned top of the fork. "Amongst other things."

Wally caught the spoon as it fell, looking up as the waitress brought them their lunch; one cheeseburger with fries for Kyle, four cheeseburgers with fries, an order of onion rings, a baked potato, and a salad for Wally. It took her a couple trips. "I'm a professional eater," he explained apologetically, "working up for the season."

"Order what you'd like, sugar, long as you leave me a tip." She winked at him, and he beamed with boyish charm.

"So, I have to know, does anyone not like you?"

"I have a few... villains, you could say. I like to think I'm well-liked, although it's been a while since someone just jumped my bones." He glanced up suggestively over his onion rings. "Not everyone likes me quite that much."

Wally's tongue lingered on his lower lip, leaving it wet and glimmering when he drew it back in.

Kyle paid the bill and they left their food mostly uneaten on the table, ducking into a nearby alley.

Wally still tasted like the coffee he'd been downing, kissing sloppily as they fumbled at each other's zippers; Wally won, of course, pushing Kyle against the wall and dropping around Kyle's knees, clutching at his calf as the other hand stroked the base of his erection. Wally's lips were around the head of it, sucking down over his tongue. Kyle swallowed down cries of pleasure, but the nearby busy sidewalk didn't seem very important.

It was filthy and dangerous, and Kyle loved it down to his strangled moan as he came, still gasping for breath as Wally tucked him back away and stood up, brushed a kiss over his lips, and disappeared.

His name was Wally, and Kyle couldn't get enough of him.

Superman had been right; getting to know a fellow young hero had definitely made things easier.

Kyle had, of course, neglected to mention he was the Green Lantern. Hadn't noticed the ring; but then again, nobody ever did... which was strange. It hadn't come up. So when he was once again locked in battle on the streets of Metropolis, and a familiar red blur appeared for the final blow to... what's his name the overgrown guy in power armor... the Flash approached him ready for a gloating session, and Kyle listened to Wally's assessment of his own physical prowess until he was done, and stopped, waiting for Kyle to say something.

"What?"

"Has anyone ever told you that you look naked in that uniform?"

"Well, I guess it's a little..." Wally began looking himself over, and Kyle grinned.

"Please, don't apologize. We all like what we see."

Wally looked at him sideways, suspiciously, until he began laughing, howling and stamping at the ground.

"Well, I'll be snookered by a secret identity. Imagine that."

Kyle grabbed onto him and flew up into the sky, feeling the vibrations of Wally's laughter. The police could handle the clean-up, and he'd rather try a little willpower experiment.

He loved the danger, as Wally caught on to his intent and fondled him through the uniform, already making flight more difficult to focus on. Kyle desperately hoped Superman wouldn't decide to fly on by as he stopped, creating a surface for them to writhe together on. Panting and groaning until he could do nothing but focus on the ring through Wally's hand vibrating around him, rubbing against him with his whole body, and his erection hard against Kyle's thigh.

Kyle grasped around Wally's waist as he felt an orgasm brimming over, and when it broke through him, they fell.

Plummeting to the ground, falling headfirst with Wally screaming something he couldn't make out as the tops of the skyscrapers came up fast and he regained control, sending them both back rocketing up as they adjusted their uniforms and Wally was struggling to catch his breath, grinning and cackling. "That. That was... amazing. Wow."

Reality didn't hit until he changed his calendar to August, with a big green circle around the 30th.

Wally was laying in his arms a few hours later, on top of a red drape he'd thrown down on the chair, looking ethereal in the candlelight Kyle had lit for atmosphere. He wanted one last portrait of him, before he left, even if he had yet to admit that was what it was for. The process had been... pleasantly interrupted.

"How am I supposed to work like this, you bum."

"My bum is just too nice, that's the problem."

They sighed and Kyle stroked his hair, watching the strands gleam as a few caught the light, and he smiled. He wouldn't think of having to leave just yet; he could have a few more minutes.

Minutes became days, became two weeks, and finally Kyle greeted Wally by sitting seriously in his living room, looking at the floor as he whisked into regular clothes and sat next to him, waiting silently for Kyle to say something.

"I'm leaving for Oa in two weeks. Training, possible assignment in some distant star system... I don't know when I'll be back. At least a year."

"Oa, that's..."

"Where the Guardians live."

"Right."

Wally sat there for a few more moments then was gone. Kyle didn't expect him back that night, and he didn't come, leaving him alone to a bottle of Jamesons and an unfinished painting on the easel.

He didn't know why he should be so... upset. They'd never had any expectations, they were just fuck buddies. That was all. Kyle wasn't even gay. It was just... something they did. Sex. It didn't mean anything. Just a fabulous lay.

Kyle finished the bottle and sent it through his living room window, screaming after it, the ring sparking on his hand.

He was certain, all through his pencils the next day that he would never see Wally again. He despondently waved Jimmy away, not even pretending to listen to his co-workers talk. They just wanted to talk to themselves, anyway.

Another set of footfalls stopped next to his cubical, and Kyle didn't bother to look up, waving them off absently. "Not now."

"I haven't even gotten to the punch line yet."

Kyle stopped and set the pencil down before he turned around, where Wally was grinning at him in a garish yellow Hawaiian shirt.

"Still shopping at the Salvation Army?"

"You would know."

They snuck out onto the roof, slipping under the Daily Planet globe, making out like teenagers and throwing hushed laugher at each other. He was like a flood of relief, and Kyle would have willingly thrown away all his responsibilities to stay there with him, sweating in the summer heat as the city hummed beneath them in their hiding place.

The roof door opened after a while, and Kyle clapped his hand over Wally's mouth as they both hunched down to stay out of sight.

Clark Kent bent down right next to them, pulling off his clothes, and he was already half revealed in his Superman costume when he noticed Kyle and Wally, half-naked and looking more than a little startled themselves. Both obviously caught in the middle of something they'd been trying to hide, neither party quite sure who was more embarrassed.

Wally and Kyle pulled out and stood up, putting their clothes back together as Clark finished changing into the uniform under his clothes, and they faced each other uncomfortably.

"So, uh, you're Superman," Wally said, nodding to himself.

"Um... yeah."

"And we were, uh..."

"During work..."

"Sorry about that, yeah. So, we're cool?"

"Yes, Kyle. It's good to see you were following my advice."

He took off at that, leaving the other two staring at each other.

"I should..."

"Yeah. I'll uh, stop by later."

He thought he should be more surprised, to learn Superman was actually this dude who worked upstairs, but he really wasn't. Although he did tease him a little about cheating to get his by-lines. There was a lot more to Clark Kent than he ever would have suspected.

Kyle gave notice at the end of the day.

By the end of the week, he'd finished the painting. They acted like nothing had changed, even when Kyle began moving his stuff into storage and gave Wally his stereo.

On his last night, there was nothing but some furniture he was leaving here, some stuff in the bathroom, leftover Chinese in the fridge, and Wally cuddling with him on a sleeping bag on the floor. They hadn't said a word all night, and Kyle couldn't think of anything to say if they did.

He stayed all night in silence, and they got ready together the next morning, brushing each other's teeth, washing each other's hair in the shower, breaking open the leftovers. About to step off his home world and off to the great unknown, he enjoyed a little domesticity, for how long it could last.

"You know," Wally said, "I don't think I'm going to get along with your replacement quite this well."

They were both already in uniform, hiding behind their masks, even his voice.

"Who knows, might be some fox."

It fell flat, and they stood together fidgeting.

"I, uh, know it's stupid and... sentimental... but uh, I thought I'd give you this. You know. Souvenir." Wally pressed something into Kyle's hand; a Flash ring, gleaming gold and red.

Kyle nodded, and tucked it away. They didn't know what else to do, so they left.

They met Kyle's replacement in the Metropolis Park; Superman showed up for the occasion, so it didn't seem so strange the Flash would be, too.

One of the Lanterns was definitely a fox; but it wasn't the one that would be staying behind. A no-nonsense black guy with a shaved head shook his hand firmly, and introduced himself as John Stewart.

The woman was like a golden elf, glowing in the sun with yellow hair and vivid eyes. "My name is Arisia. I'll be your lift to Oa, before we get through space flight." She smiled warmly, and certainly didn't seem like his idea of a Lantern; but then again, neither did he.

Kyle shook hands with Superman, thanking him for all his help, and got to Wally... and grinned nervously, slapping him on the shoulder. "I'll catch you later."

"Have fun in space."

They were smiling when they left, and he flew up into the atmosphere with Arisia. Alone with her, he didn't force himself to smile anymore, but couldn't bring himself to let out the painful lump in his throat.

- The First Year -

The night Kyle left... was bad.

He wept, and sobbed, and drank himself into a mess on the floor, banging his fists against the carpet.

Damn that stupid bastard, anyway. He sniffled, regained some composure, and got up, splashing cold water on his face in the bathroom sink, but he was weeping again before he could even finish drying off with a towel, and pressed it against his face, feeling his tears bleeding into it, hot and wet.

Another bottle, and another, as his metabolism burned it away he raced with drunkenness to distract himself, but only sometimes.

He cried until he didn't have any tears left, and he didn't cry over him again.

The Flash still smiled through greeting passers-by on his runs, and he was looking forward to a final year of college before he could finally start working. It burned up all his time and energy, and before he knew it, winter came and went.

That spring, he met a girl named Alice, who worked in a bookstore downtown. Curly blonde hair, twinkling eyes, always flirting. They spent the summer in sidewalk coffee shops and working through her library of sex books; the Kama Sutra alone was turning into quite a project. She was always willing, came off as experienced though he never asked, and Alice became a light in the dark. Even if they never really… talked.

He began working in the crime lab when an opening came up; Barry Allen's name on his resume ensured that, but Wally felt like he'd earned enough of what he had, even with Barry's help. His own apartment, adulation in the press, and he was even thinking about letting Alice in on his secret. He had everything he could possibly want.

Wally kept telling himself that, even after Alice broke up with him and cold weather was setting in again. Some of Barry's old foes were resurfacing again, causing the Flash trouble. Especially Captain Cold; he loved winter, and picked the coldest days to cause havoc until Wally finally subdued him.

A year had come and gone, and Kyle hadn't returned, or even sent a letter. Wally assumed that meant he wasn't coming back for a very long time, if ever. He accepted that, but couldn't help but long for him, desperately sometimes. But he moved on with his life, just the same. Occasionally, he worked with the replacement GL, but never asked him about Kyle. He wouldn't send a message that way, anyway.

Kyle's trip to Oa had taken better than a day, spent mostly of Arisia giving him an idea of what life was like there; Lantern barracks, more or less, comfortable but all designed for duty.

Duty would be a word that Kyle heard again and again here.

He'd already learned the basics of using his ring on his own, but Kilowog and Katma Tui were taskmasters, putting their students through paces he didn't even know he could march yet. The constant testing of will was draining, and he never had the energy to really mind that his bunk was tiny and spartan, with a distinct lack of cable.

Got used to not seeing human faces, or even hearing human language; Kilowog and Kat spoke English sometimes, but that was it.

Kyle didn't try to be a pain in the ass, but sometimes, he just got frustrated. Maybe all these aliens were fine with being constantly worked and separated from everything they knew, but he had stress. And sometimes, it got the best of him.

Even so, he was pronounced ready for permanent assignment, and promptly informed that by no means ensured he'd get one. Or even a chance to visit Earth. That he'd start out assisting on missions, and just... wait. That it would likely be several years of such duty before he received a post, even more if he held out for 2814.

He got better living quarters, rather spacious even if it was still barren.

Kyle sat down, and sat back. There was another ring he still kept, safely under his mattress.

"Ring, could you create a telephone connection to Earth from here?"

"Yes."

He rubbed it thoughtfully, then got up to grab dinner, go surround himself with his new alien pals. By now, Wally would have forgotten all about him. There was no sense bothering him about something he couldn't change, it would only make things harder.

Arisia, on the other hand, always lit up when he walked into the room. She'd been a Lantern since she was a teenager, self-confidant as she was beautiful.

It wasn't home, but maybe he could be happy here.

- The Third Year -

Wally was still a little surprised he'd been asked to join the Justice League; after all, these were big gun up here on the Bat's fancy rig. He'd even started to think of John as the GL instead of a GL... but it was still all overwhelming. He sagged over a railing, staring out at the stars. Wondering if Hawkgirl was single, or if she'd hit him with that big mace if he asked.

He still felt lonely a lot, even if he'd become a master of hiding it. Trying to find someone had become something of an obsession, throwing himself out there, keeping in mind what Kyle had once said about his costume.

Wally sighed. He didn't like thinking about Kyle, he just got angry at nothing.

Kyle thought about Wally a lot. Part of his training included taking emotional memories, channeling it into the will to push past self-induced limitations. He'd taken it to heart, and despite not thinking about him the rest of the time... when he was in a fight, and the chips were down, or he even just needed a push over the edge, he would remember the beauty of him, grit his teeth, and get the job done.

The Guardians refused his requests to be posted to Earth, until they finally ordered him not to bring it up again until the posting for Sector 2814 came up for review. So when they contacted him, he could have kissed Kilowog for the news, fairly skipping to the council chamber.

"Kyle Rayner, you have made repeated requests to return to your home planet for a tour of duty. While at this time, we are happy with the placement of our forces, we've been informed that John Stewart has joined an organization of super-powered beings on Earth. We trust his judgment, but such a shift in the balance of power can be a delicate thing, and we would like your report on the situation."

Kyle left right away; a week, that was all they said he could be spared for, and it was work... but he was going home, the ring sending him through the stars faster than it ever had before.

"Ring, what can you tell me about this organization?"

He listened to the list of members, and smiled to himself in the darkness of space. Kyle had planned on announcing himself before he got there, but John must have been informed a Lantern would be coming.

Earth came into view, and he hated to make their base his first stop; but it was possible they'd detected his presence in the system already, and would think it was some kind of attack if he just went for the surface. He missed things he never thought he would, like panhandlers and his crappy job, but a job was exactly what he was here to do.

Kyle hailed the satellite base with his ring, a deep unfamiliar voice answering him.

"This is J'onn J'onzz, representative of the Justice League, please identify yourself."

"This is Kyle Rayner, Green Lantern Corps representative of the Guardians," he said with gusto, and added, "I think I'm expected."

"Of course, opening up airlock one. Welcome back to Earth, Mister Rayner."

"Thank you very much Mister J'onzz, lovely to be here."

He had, indeed, been expected, if the reception was any indication; Superman, a knockout brunette he'd been told was Wonder Woman, and he recognized the redhead as Hawkgirl, all waiting on the other side of the airlock.

Kyle pointed at the fourth figure, shaking his finger. "I could have sworn you were an urban legend. Batman, right?"

Batman just loomed a little, and Kyle decided to give him some... space.

He was given a rather blasé tour of the Watchtower, but try as he could... he wasn't really in it for some report to the Lanterns. If something was fishy, he'd find out. So far, there was nothing more aquatic than a goldfish in the kitchen. They finally got to the bridge, where he met the last Martian, which was unbearably cool.

And then, there he was. The center of his dreams, his strength, so long distant now that he'd been cast into the strange shapes memories can take when time goes by. He could feel every cell longing for him.

Kyle grinned as the Flash walked into the room, and they bumped fists. Wally still looked a little stunned, but he recovered quickly.

"What's up, I see you've found yourself a pretty nice gig."

"Says the illustrious representative of the Guardians."

"Heard that, huh?"

"With the speeches I hear around this place, that's nothing, trust me."

"Listen, Supes," Wally said, zipping around the group, "me and the GL have some catching up to do, I'll play host for a while."

They all murmured about what duties they had to attend to, and Wally began leading him back through the maze of metal hallways until they fell into what had to be personal quarters... but that's all he noticed.

The door slid closed, and they fell onto each other savagely, whining in longing as much as they moaned in satisfaction. He wanted to paint again, wanted to be back in Metropolis drawing her lines at sunrise, poorly capturing the light of it in watercolors. It was as if the three years had been some crazy dream, and they were back making love on a bed of canvas and the occasional pizza box.

The one thing, the only thing he couldn't give to have this always, and it was the only thing he would have to. Duty could be a four-letter word.

Kyle poured his gratitude at having this moment into Wally's body, desperate, fumbling sex just like the first time, but so totally different. Mad with desire, struggling until Wally finally threw him down on the bed, thrusting in viciously, and they squeezed tight together, slamming against the metal wall and making guttural sounds like a pair of wild animals.

When their quiet afterglow finally came, he couldn't remember being so happy.

He spent his week revisiting his home and family, recounting tales of aliens out in space. And spent a lot of time with the other Lantern; a good man, and he'd done a lot of good since returning home. Kyle couldn't fault him for that.

They'd provided him a room on the Watchtower, but he never once saw the inside.

Every spare second, and all through the night, they were together, tangled up in each other in lust or the simple company. Kyle talked about being on Oa, but it was different with Wally; he could try to impress him, but that would just turn into a pissing contest. He talked about Arisia, moving up the Lantern food chain, how different galactic liberty enforcement was from mopping up super villains on Earth almost like he was just thinking to himself. Wally talked about graduating from college, being a real grown-up and being with the ranks of real heroes.

On their last night together, they didn't sleep until they were both raw and exhausted, and Wally was gone when Kyle woke up to leave.

He didn't send him off, and Kyle returned to Oa already feeling the familiar ache in his chest.

Wally didn't know how to say goodbye; instead, he ran, until he burnt up every ounce of energy and stumbled drunkenly into his apartment, somehow making it up the stairs and onto his couch before he passed out. Something about Kyle had changed, some determination that had been fleeting, but now was a constant spark in his eyes. Magnificent by the service that had taken him away from Earth.

It wasn't fair.

Continue...