All about Flinx

Lap

Maybe if Wally hadn't entertained the idea—he honestly didn't think she'd take him seriously—he wouldn't be standing in front of the smirking girl right now in literally nothing else save for his spandex, boots, gloves, and goggles. Sure, didn't sound so bad, but if those came off, well, that was it.

Going commando hadn't been one of his brightest ideas.

"Right," he murmured, drifting over to the stereo. She had everything readily laid out for him, purple candles scattered sparingly throughout her room, incense and roses intertwined, a blank CD labeled with nothing else but "Play Me" in hurried cursive—his lips twitched into a fond smile.

She really did want this. Who was he to fail on the deliverance?

Once he popped the disc in and pressed play, he spun slowly on his heel and let the sensual hymn puppeteer his every move. The roll of his hips stayed fluid,natural; the melody soon picked up the pace and so did he. Wally had recognized the song right away, and when the tune approached a rather harsh beat, he timed it just right, a rough thrust perfectly in sync.

Green shot to pink at that moment—not breaking eye contact with every suggestive move he made was an absolute must, regardless of how tempting it was. She might not be able to touch, not right now, but she could watch, and Wally sure as hell figured he'd make himself worth watching.

To think the pinkette was actually starting to enjoy it wouldn't be too much of a stretch, would it? The way her breath caught when he had looked at her, back straightening with piqued interest, delicate fingers curling around the edge of her seat in silent anticipation. The bar was set and he didn't want to disappoint.

Gloves were the first to go, carefully undoing tiny little latches and slipping them off by the fingers.

One.

By.

One.

Agonizingly slow, particularly for the speedster. But that pretty little glare, nose crinkled (cutely) in annoyance made it worth it.

All the while Wally's body never stopped moving, didn't pause, didn't stutter—it rose and fell, merging seamlessly with the flow of the music. Chest popped, hips bucked, feet stayed a shoulder-width apart to give her the perfect view … Didn't miss a single beat. Every second counted.

Bare hands swept up for the goggles perched right underneath his hairline, tugging them down to rest lazily around his neck. The cowl disappeared soon after, Wally intentionally taking his sweet time with the actual unzipping—surely she wouldn't mind the wait? She had a whole lot else to focus on, after all.

Like how his signature spandex suddenly clung a little tighter than usual, or how his free hand touched and groped places in ways that left absolutely no room for innocent thoughts. Not that there were any to begin with, honestly.

By the time his uniform was a quarter undone, the speedster shimmied out of the top portion, freckled shoulders peeking through with his arms trailing right after. He wasn't shy in the slightest; he was pretty damn well built and he knew it, making sure to flaunt his assets while shoving the tainted yellow as far down as he dared. Fabric bunched dangerously low around his hips, every swing and sashay threatening its fall.

Maybe that was the point.

Another song picked up (as for how many had actually passed, he didn't know, he had long since lost count) and the building crescendo was, to put it simply,raunchy. There might not be a better opportunity. A wickedly smug grin played underneath his freckles, his stride toward her anything but playful—it was predatory.

Legs spread and settled on either side of the girl's own, a hand reaching behind her to grip the chair while the other slid over bare skin, touching what she couldn't. What she wasn't allowed to touch. With each pulsation the speakers let loose, Wally inched closer to the fidgeting body underneath his, rocking tauntingly slow, never quite actually making contact. Despite how much he wanted to.

She should totally praise him for his self-control later. Because this was hard—

… Bad choice of wording there, West.

A breathy sigh tumbled out before he could catch it, and the speedster quickly bit down on his bottom lip to keep any more involuntary sounds from escaping. Lest he end this 'dance' on an embarrassing note.

It's when the low tune stuttered to a crawl that he let the inside of his thighs brush down against her legs, but only for a second—enough to tease at her expense, yet not enough to satiate his own growing desire. Needless to say, Wally felt himself caring less and less about continuing the charade and keeping his distance just to lock her in a state of frustrated wanting. Why should he have to suffer too? Totally unfair.

The second his nose pressed into a rosy cheek, teeth grazing the sweet skin along her jawline, hands drowning in soft pink, Wally knew he was a lost cause.

Truth be told, having what remained of your clothes ripped to shreds by an urgent hex was a lot sexier than he thought it'd be.