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Flash threw another kick and sent the grunt flying. His breath was labored and his joints were starting to whine, but the henchmen just kept coming. It felt like an endless wave that had lasted all night, but he knew it had only been a few taxing moments. Fists white knuckled under his red suit, he readied himself. He mentally prepared to pull some of his punches so he could save the particularly hard-hitting ones for Scarecrow - the prick. (Who hires this many henchmen?!)
Light but powerful steps pattered behind him and Flash automatically squared his shoulders. Firm hands latched and pushed onto him and a dark shadow flew overhead. With a powerful war cry, Nightwing vaulted over him and sent two of Scarecrow’s men careening back and into the musty wall of the warehouse.
With a graceful tumble, Nightwing unsheathed his escrima sticks, and the weapons lit to life with electricity. He was in a fighting stance next to Flash in an instant with a grin and wink to his mate. “Mind if I join the party.”
“Oh, more than welcome, babe!” the speedster smirked. A new surge of energy and lighting danced up his spine as it did anytime he was next to the omega. It felt like Nightwing was the wind in his sails and he was driving full speed ahead now. He couldn’t help the small vibrations of excitement shiver through him. His limbs were a blur which should’ve made these henchmen flee with their tails between their legs, but they weren’t used to fighting speedsters here in Gotham.
Well, they’d learn once he put them in the ground before they could even blink.
With a flurry of punches, escrima sticks, kicks, and some fabulous one-liners - if he did say so himself - the grunts littered the floor around them in a groaning, unconscious mess. Flash then zipped around and piled them all nice and pretty in the corner for some cops to come and clean and book.
Flash gave a showy bow and Nightwing couldn’t help but laugh. “You dork.”
“‘M your dork though, right?”
With a smile and a peck on the cheek that made Flash’s alpha trill, Nightwing whispered, “Forever. Now, let’s take care of Scarecrow so we can go back home and finish where we left off, yeah?”
A new silver ran down Flash’s spine and landed below his belt. They were so rudely interrupted before, weren't they?
“Yes, sir!” Flash teased as he picked up his giggling mate in a bridal carry and zipped to find the rogue in question.
Flash was able to navigate the abandoned warehouse easily. These Gotham guys really weren’t prepared for a speedster and he was relishing in it. Almost every corner had a trap of some sort, but because Scarecrow was a predictable bitch. They all were nothing but a puff of smoke in Flash’s wake. He could laugh at how hard the villain tried to get them with one of his toxins. In fact, he did laugh as he threw his head back at a particularly poor attempt to sedate them.
“Tranquilizer darts? Seriously? What is this 1970 in the Amazon Rainforest?” the alpha taunted as he continued to search through empty rooms in nanoseconds.
Nightwing couldn’t say much as his eyes were closed and head ducked down comfortably in Flash’s neck as they zipped around at sonic speeds. Feeling his omega right on his scent gland made his knees weak but he kept running and kept quipping. (Flash was sure his mate would’ve laughed if he wasn’t actively trying to keep his eyeballs in their sockets.)
Eventually, Flash heard the squawk of a villain who’s been found hiding with their tail between their legs. Skidding to a stop, Flash set Nightwing down and the two got into fighting stances yet again. Lighting continued to dance on his skin as not too dissimilar electricity crackled to life on Nightwing’s escrima sticks.
“Where is it?” Nightwing ordered.
“Usually I’m the one to play the pronoun game, Nightwing,” Scarecrow said, trying to skitter away like the coward he was, “You’re going to have to be more specific.”
“We got a tip saying you’re working on a secondary gender bioweapon. Planned on selling it to anyone with deep enough pockets. Didn’t think you’d stoop so low, Crane. Now where is it?”
Fuck, Nightwing sounded hot when he was serious. Gah! Not now, West! Focus!
The villain let out a nervous laugh as he made a scramble for something behind him. “Me? A new toxin? Nonsense! I have everything I’ll ever need with my fear gas!”
He threw his hand out from behind him - holding a device of some sort. Flash couldn’t help but roll his eyes. It was obviously a trigger to activate said fear toxin. Before he could even fully pull the doohickey out, Flash sped over and swiped it from his grasp.
The manic look in Scarecrow’s eyes disappeared. “Huh?” he grunted as he glanced down at his confusingly empty hand.
“Oh, you wanted this?” Flash asked as he mockingly shook the device as he casually leaned on Nightwing’s shoulder. “Sorry but I get a bit handsy when bad guys whip out a trigger of sorts. They’re just so shiny! Hope you don’t mind!”
The look of confusion was quickly replaced with satisfaction though - which was never a good sign. Uh-oh. What was this guy planning, he thought.
Before he could react, the light on the detonator turned off and the device popped in his hand. Both he and Nightwing yelped as they were both assaulted by a mist of toxin. Involuntarily, the gas entered both their lungs and they broke out in a coughing fit. Flash’s throat was closing and his eyes were watering. Every inhale felt like they were laced with needles. His very lungs felt prickly as he tried to swallow down air. He looked over to his mate and saw Nightwing in a similar situation. Flash saw the exact moment his knees gave out and the vigilante fell to the floor as he desperately tried to get more air in his lungs.
In their coughing fit, Scarecrow cackled, “I don’t mind at all, Flash.” With watering eyes but no energy in his limbs, the alpha tracked the villain as he began to circle them.
Oh, great. He’s gonna monologue, isn’t he? Flash thought as he tried to will the convulsions to stop in his chest.
“You know,” Scarecrow started, “I was wondering when The Bat would take a night off. He’s been running himself ragged, don’t you think? I was seriously starting to worry I would never get a chance to test out my new concoction.”
He sauntered to the corner of the room and gingerly picked up his scythe - why didn’t Flash see that thing earlier?! He gave it a few experimental twirls and the blade slashed through the air with a threatening shing. Flash couldn’t help but notice the precise movements and feared his head was going to be in that weapon’s path very soon.
Then something clicked in his mind. New concoction.
Uh-oh.
“You didn’t!” Nightwing seethed between fighting for air to enter and leave his lungs.
“Oh, but I did. You see, you were the prime candidates to test it on. Batman is far too strong-willed - he would’ve beaten me to a pulp and sent me on my way to Arkham before I could see the fruits of my labor. The other bats wouldn’t have done either. Red Robin probably would have been able to stave off the reaction as well. Both Red Hood and Orphan would’ve kicked my ass six feet under for even attempting such an experiment. And there’s no way in hell I was going to try this on any of the underaged bats. I’m a man of science, not a monster after all.”
Flash was relieved to hear that last part but was still annoyed that Scarecrow thought this stupid plan this far. The more he listened, the more irritated he got.
The speedster thought it was because the villain was just annoying (which he definitely was) but he realized it was because of how uncomfortable he was feeling in his own skin. Between his coughing and fighting for air, his skin itched - which was an understatement. It felt like he was molting snake and needed to peel the top layer of his flesh off to feel relief. His suit was slowly suffocating him with how tight it clung to him. Off! Off! He needed all his clothes off! It was too hot. It was too stuffy! He needed them off or he felt like he would die!
What felt the worst were his canines. He felt them involuntarily grow in his mouth and his gums begged to bite into something - anything. Well, no, not anything. His alpha really wanted to sink down into something specific. And that something was panting, flushed, looking absolutely beautifully mouth-watering, and still recovering from the same toxin at his feet.
Nightwing didn’t seem to be faring any better. In the short time the toxin was in their systems, he had already begun to sweat out of his uniform. He began to claw at the fabric - particularly around his neck like he was prying away a noose. The scowl on his face never left but Flash could tell he was just as uncomfortable as he was. He wanted to do nothing but scoop his mate in his arms and hide away in their nest. He wanted to shield Nightwing away from the world and hoard all that beauty for himself.
But Scarecrow’s condescending (annoying) monologue wasn’t finished.
“Besides, you and Flash over here truly are the perfect candidates,” Scarecrow continued as he ventured dangerously closer to the duo. “I don’t usually trust tabloids, but seeing you two fight in person truly shows your chemistry. It’s undeniable. It’s palpable. It’s the perfect variable to test my new toxin with. You two will truly not be able to stave off its effects and you will succumb to it like the impulsive creatures you heroes truly are.
“Nightwing, you wanted to know where my newest toxin is? Well, congratulations. You can tell the big bad Bat that you found it! I hope you enjoy the effects! Supposedly they’re supposed to be very pleasurable once they’ve taken hold. You won’t be able to resist. It’s in your nature. I wouldn’t know, haven’t ingested it myself, of course. But you’ll have to give me your full analysis once you’ve fucked your mate to death over here.”
Death? Death?!
“Don’t, tell me,” Flash wheezed, “Don’t tell me you seriously made a ‘fuck or you die’ toxin, Crane. Seriously?”
“Oh, you won’t actually die, Flash. Rest assured! It’ll just really really feel like it. I need to see the effects of the toxin when it leaves your system too after all. And corpses don’t give good feedback.”
With Scarecrow’s attention on him, Flash saw in slow motion as Nightwing got up from his crouched position. It was easy to track, but the villain didn’t see it coming at all. He couldn’t help the smirk that grew on his face as Nightwing decked Scarecrow across the face.
“Agh!” the villain cried as he stumbled back.
Flash’s legs were weak and his lungs were still sobbing for a breath of fresh air. But he could still fight. And he most certainly could still run.
With lighting on his heels, Flash darted forward and gave the villain his own superspeed-powered punch. He felt the satisfying crack of bone underneath his fist.
A hand grabbed at his and Flash immediately grasped down. With a grunt, Flash pulled Nightwing into a spin - lighting striking over both of them - before launching him forward. The vigilante flung forward and kicked Scarecrow square in the chest. He wailed as he was sent flying to the back wall. He slammed against it as a cloud of dust erupted around him.
Flash zipped towards the villain before he could get his bearings. Grabbing him by the collar, he spun them around a few hundred times before he flung him again. Nightwing pushed one of the cluttered tabled in his flying path and the villain painfully collided in a hard stop with the hardwood with an “Oof!”
From the other side of the table, Nightwing then grabbed Scarecrow by the collar and lifted him a few feet up. Both heroes were scowling and breath ragged. Flash was far from admitting that his vision was starting to give and his suite around his crotch was getting tight. It was, but he’d never admit it, especially in the villain’s presence (especially while Nightwing was still being a badass and kicking).
“You think you got us all figured out, huh?” Nightwing growled. Flash noted the omega’s fangs growing in his mouth and he willed himself to not drool at the sight. “You think Flash and I will succumb to our urges, huh?! Well, this is a message to you and to all your buddies in Arkham that every hero in Gotham is strong. Every hero here will kick your ass, no matter what. No matter what you do to us, no matter how broken, beaten, or intoxicated we are, we will still send your sorry fucking ass behind bars! Don’t you ever, EVER, doubt that again. Especially with me and Flash!”
With one last rage-filled grunt, Nightwing gave Scarecrow one last swift punch, and the villain rag-dolled and sprawled along the dusty floor.
The next half an hour was a blur. The police were called, the henchmen were hogtied, Scarecrow was put into custody and en route to Arkham, and his science experiments were being properly disposed of. If Flash wasn’t so out of it he would comment on the villain’s middle school ass levels of chemistry. How dare he give his field of study a bad reputation!
But he didn’t say that. He didn’t help the police. He didn’t have time to taunt and quip.
He was burning. He felt like a furnace. Sweat dripped from his brow and he was panting like a dog. His vision had long past gone blurry and he was truly seeing double now. He could hardly stay on his feet as he swayed to and fro. If anyone asked, he would claim it to be a fever. But if anyone looked down even they would see how painfully hard he was.
His gums ached to bite and claim. His nose scrunched at every smell that wasn’t Nightwing’s calming ocean breeze one. His eyes glazed over every form until they landed on his perfect, beautiful mate.
His back was to him as he talked to some members of GPD. Flash might’ve recognized some of the flitting forms that danced at the corners of his vision, but his eyes were locked on his omega. His perfect, amazing, and way too far away omega.
Why was he so far? Why wasn’t he next to him? Why wasn't he in his lap? Why wasn’t he scenting him now? Why wasn’t he with him? Why did it hurt that he was so far away? Why did his core burn knowing they weren’t touching?
Before he understood what he was doing, lightning was already cascading off his skin and Flash was behind his mate in an instant. The police officer jumped at Flash’s sudden arrival, but Nightwing hardly flinched.
Breathing labored, the alpha wrapped his arms around the omega’s middle and he did something he’s never done to a civilian.
He growled.
It was low, possessive, and feral. He probably looked insane by the reaction of the officer squeaking away with their tail between their legs.
“Flash what the hell?” Nightwing muttered. He didn’t pull away from the embrace though - that was a good sign. “I was just about to wrap up that police report. I don’t want to hunt down Ortiz later to get that paperwork done.”
A groan laced with another growl escaped the alpha’s lips. He buried his head in the crook of Nightwing’s neck. His gland was right there but irritatingly covered by the scent-neutralizing fabric. The smell wasn’t entirely dampened though as Flash could still smell arousal from a mile away coming from his mate. He smelled so deliciously desperate - just like Flash. But how was he still so coherent? How was Nightwing even able to form complete sentences? The only thoughts running through Flash’s mind were, mate, mine, claim, now.
“Go,” Flash tried. His tongue felt swollen and foreign in his own mouth and his vocal cords felt frail and thin. But he had to try. He had to tell Nightwing it was time to go to their nest. He needed them to go to their nest. How was Nightwing not already begging for them to go home?
“Go where, Flash? We’re almost done here and we still have our beat to run.”
Like a stubborn child, Flash shook his head. No! NO! They had to go home! They had to go to their nest!
“Ho-me. Mate, pl-ease,” he begged as he squeezed the vigilante closer.
Instead of bending, Nightwing held irritatingly firm. “One more hour. One more hour and we can go home, okay?”
The growl escaped his lips before he could register it. He rumbled deep from his core and his frame already began to vibrate.
No. No, that wasn’t what the alpha wanted to hear!
Home. Nest. Mate. Now!
“Sorry-y,” Flash muttered under his breath as he hiked the omega over his shoulder.
Nightwing squeaked, “Ah! Flash! What are you do-”
In a snap, the scenery changed to a familiar, dark, and warm room.
“-ing! Wha - Ugh! Wally! We weren’t done there yet!” Dick groaned as he wiggled out of his alpha’s embrace. He firmly planted himself on their worn carpet and gave Wally a disappointed and annoyed look.
Oh no. His mate wasn’t happy. Why? Why wasn’t he? They were home! They were safe! They were in their nest! He tried to get them there as fast as possible. He was a bit slower in his inebriated state. He did bump into a few walls and stumbled up the stairs to get here. His mate wasn’t happy. That’s not good. But he could be good! He will be good for his omega!
Wally wanted to vocalize it. He wanted to tell his mate all the odd and possessive things running through his mind. But his tongue was led and his knees were jelly. His vision danced and his mind swayed. Before he could catch himself, Wally fell to his knees as he struggled for the second time tonight to get enough air in his lungs.
“Wally!” Dick called as he knelt beside him. He placed a setting hand on his shoulder and the spot burned. It burned so deliciously.
The speedster clasped Dick’s hand in a vice. He never wanted Dick to let go. Please don’t let Dick let go!
“M…Mate,” Wally muttered as he tried to bring the hand closer and closer to him.
His body was on fire. His lungs were on fire. He felt like he was burning alive. Yet he didn’t have the energy to stop it. He could and knew how to keep the flames away, but he was too exhausted to stop the heat.
But that touch. That touch burned him to his core yet cooled his skin. It was relief and pain intertwined in an odd dance along his skin. He needed his mate. But he was scared. He didn’t know what to do. But he knew that if Dick left him now he would break apart, and there was no telling how long it would take to put him back together.
“Fuck, Wally you’re burning up. I think you got the brunt of the toxin. I’m so sorry I didn’t notice until now,” Dick tried to sooth, “I’ll call Tim and ask him to whip up an antidote - if he can. But you need to rest, Wally. Okay? Okay, alpha?”
“I… I can’t…” Wally tried, but even his vocal cords were fried.
“It’s okay, babe. Don’t stress yourself more. Come on. Let’s go to bed, baby.”
Dick then hauled Wally to his feet and practically carried the alpha to bed. Wally tried to help. He tried to will his feet to move, but using his last burst of energy to get them here took a tole on his ability to walk. He tried. He tried so hard but he couldn’t even get a spark of electricity out. He still couldn’t be a strong alpha for his omega. What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he just be stronger for his mate?
“Hey. Hey, Wally. It’s okay, baby. Don’t cry, it’s alright,” Dick whispered as he sat the speedster down on their messy nest.
Distress and sorrow spilled from his glands but his suit absorbed most of the smell, yet it still came off Wally in waves along with the stream of tears. He couldn’t stop it. He tried, but his body wouldn’t listen to him anymore. He was so weak! Why was he so weak for his mate?!
“Crane must’ve gotten the toxin wrong. It’s just fucking with your senses and mind and not even in the horny way anymore,” Dick muttered to himself as he peeled the sticky and smelly suit from Wally’s skin. The sour scent burst into their room and the alpha couldn’t do anything though but sit there like a sad, dead fish.
“It’s okay, Wally. It’s alright. You’re doing so well. Good alpha. You’re a good alpha. The best!” his mate said as Dick already got half of Wally’s suit off.
Good? I’m a good alpha? I’m doing good?
A dopey smile spread on Wally’s face. He was doing good! He was good for his omega! Body still not listening to him, he involuntarily reached out to Dick. His shaky hand caressed his face and the omega halted his movements.
Wally loved him. He loved his mate so much. He knew just what to say. Knew just how to take care of him. Wally loved him. He loved him so much! The alpha wanted to take care of his omega - just like how Dick was taking care of him now.
With weak and gentle hands, he pulled Dick towards him in a limp embrace. He wanted to take care of Dick. He wanted to make the omega feel good like he was.
“Ma-mate… Like… earlier-r…” Wally tried to communicate.
But with a knowing smile, Dick seemed to have gotten it. “Yeah. Yeah, we can continue like before. But I still have to contact Tim and get you out of your suit. You’re probably dying in there, huh? The toxin I think wore off on me by now, but it still seems to be pretty bad for you. It was really painful, right? Is it painful now?”
It diminished, but as soon as his mate said it, Wally realized how much pain he was in. It was agonizing. It was burning. Wally was burning up! Would Dick make it go away? Would his mate help him? Please let Dick help him! He would help his omega in return. He promised!
Wally rapidly nodded his head and whimpered. He wanted his uniform off. He wanted his skin bare and for the heat under his flesh to diminish. His omega would help him, right? Dick would help him?
His mate gave him a sad smile and a firm nod. He placed a gentle kiss upon the speedster's sweaty forehead that sent an electric shock down Wally’s spine. “I’ll help you, alpha. I promise. Now, lay down and I’ll get the rest of your suit off, okay?”
Wally bobbed his head again and slowly laid down. As he gently fell, the world turned. It flipped, somersaulted, and spun around him. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and the world went dark not before he heard a voice yelling his name.
It was an odd feeling.
It was an odd sensation.
It felt like he was floating.
There would be flashes in his vision every so often and he would feel a wave of pleasure every now and then. But for the most part, he could remember nothing but the void around him.
But as soon as he entered this weird nebulous, he was back. His eyes snapped open and he was back in their shared room.
Light streamed in from the half-haphazardly drawn curtains. Birds chirped through the sunbeams of the early morning. He was in their nest. It was a bit worse for wear but he was in their comfortable, safe nest. It was quiet besides the sound of his own rapid heartbeat in his ear and a steady breath next to him.
With a knit brow, he looked over and saw his mate lying in his usual spot at his side. Wally let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Thank god Dick was still here. He didn’t know why Dick would leave, but his alpha had been on edge until he saw his beautiful omega next to him. His back was to the speedster and Wally saw all the bruises, scratches, and bite marks that adorned the scarred and perfect skin.
Wally couldn’t remember a lick of it, but it looked like they had a rough and wild night. He wishes he could recall it, but the main thing he remembered was Dick being there and that’s all that mattered in his groggy state. Dick being the patient, caring, and amazing mate that he always was. Wally really was far too lucky to have him.
Moving as slowly as he could, Wally scooted closer and wrapped his arms around Dick, and pulled him in close. Dick murmured in his sleep but his chest rose and fell steadily still. Wally could’ve imagined it, but he felt Dick move closer to the speedster and settle into his embrace. The smile came far too easy to Wally’s lips. He didn’t deserve this wonderful omega. Wally had half a mind to get up and make this angel an award-winning breakfast in bed - and he would, just not right now.
Wally let Dick rest in his arms.
He more than deserved it.