Breaking Up is Not Breaking

"She broke up with me." Will was still kind of in shock when he arrived at Warren's place. "Layla broke up with me."

"Oh." Warren never really was one for comforting people. Any comfort he'd given to Layla was a fluke, because there had almost sort of been something.

"She said she didn't want to be in the whole superhero thing anymore. Too much fighting."

"Oh," Warren said again. Then he clapped a hand on Will's shoulder. "You'll get through this."

"How?" Will asked, and it looked like he really wanted to know. "She was my glue. Without her I'll — I'll fall apart."

"No, you won't," Warren assured him, though he wasn't really sure himself. Will did look pretty broken up about it. "You're indestructible."

And then Will looked him straight in the eyes and said, "Prove it."

Warren didn't really know how they'd gone from that to the bed in his room, naked and writing against each other and he slipped on a condom.

"Please tell me your mom isn't home," Will said as Warren peppered bites and kisses down his neck and across his shoulders, holding himself up with one hand and positioning himself with the other.

"Not for another three hours." With that, Warren pushed in, quick and forceful. Will gasped, but when Warren paused to ask if he was okay, Will just pressed his heels into his lower back and moaned.

"Thank God."

There were still tears on Will's face, but they seemed so out of place as he arched up again, his legs tightening against Warren's back painfully with every thrusts, both his hands on himself — one on his cock, moving quick enough that Warren momentarily wondered about superspeed, the other one his balls, squeezing slightly. It was more erotic than Warren thought the kid could be, but, then, he hadn't thought Will would go for the whole gay sex thing in the first place, even though he'd fantasized about it for as long as he'd fantasized about Layla.

Warren had to concentrate to keep himself from lighting on fire. He knew Will was strong, but not invulnerable to flames. Warren had a little trouble controlling it when he was especially aroused, though, just as he had trouble controlling it when his anger got out of hand.

He was in anger management, but he didn't think there was any kind of group therapy for people who burst into flame when they got off.

He gave a shuddering gasp and thrust in, hard, hard enough that he knew any other guy would be in pain, maybe even hurt enough to stop. Will just took it and moaned for more, and on the next three thrusts Warren hit his prostate and Will was gone. The first spurt of come hit Warren hard enough that he felt himself fall back a little from it, but Will's legs were keeping him in place, and with another squeeze of them he knew it was over. He opened his mouth, but all that came out was a strangled half-gasp, and then he collapsed.

Will wove a hand into his hair. Warren knew he'd have to move soon — and clean up, too, because he could feel all of Will's come on his stomach and it wasn't the best feeling — but he was content to lay still for a moment.

Will shifted under him, muttered a "thank you," and closed his eyes. Even as he wondered if Will wouldn't freak out when he woke up, Warren smiled, because he was sure now.

Will could handle it — Layla, and being gay or not being gay but having a "thing" — and Warren would still be there, no matter what, because he was pretty strong, too.