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Ready, Aim, Fire!	By : Dhvana Category: DC Verse Comics > Green Arrow Views: 2877 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Green Arrow, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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DISCLAIMER: Not mine, no harm intended, no profit made.

Chapter 1 . . . READY . . .

“Connor?”

I blink in confusion at finding the young man at my doorstep. Not that he’s not welcome, but he usually calls well in advance. He’d hate to think that he’s imposing, though as my. . . well, my sort of brother, I’ve told him a thousand times, there’s no such thing. Still, it is something of a surprise to see him there, and I grow concerned at how pale he looks and at the shadows under his eyes.

“Connor, what are you doing here? Is something wrong?”

“Yes. . . No. . . I don’t. . . Can I come in?”

“Yeah, of course.” I stand aside to let him in, compulsively check the hallway to make sure no one is lurking around the corner, then close the door and lock it.

“Is Lian here?” he asks, looking around the apartment.

“Nah, she’s with Donna today,” I shrug, gesturing for him to sit down. “They’re having a girl’s day out. She insists Lian needs a strong female influence in her life, and that I’m just not woman enough to cover it. You won’t catch me disagreeing with her on that one.”

“No, I suppose not,” he says, his eyes jumping around the apartment, never once resting on any one thing long enough for it to register. This alone tells me something is wrong. Connor is never antsy, never on edge. Something’s managed to break his serenity, and I feel an uneasiness settle in the pit of my stomach.

“How about some tea?” I ask, and he nods.

“Tea would be good.”

I go into the kitchen and start the water, then place bags of green tea in a couple of mugs. I’d originally kept it around for his visits, but now I’ve got a supply on hand for myself. I’ve gotten kind of used to the stuff, not that I’d ever admit it--Roy Harper drinking tea. The Earth would wobble on its axis if anyone knew.

Connor sits in one of the kitchen chairs, watching the teapot as the drops of water around the outside hiss when they come into contact with the rapidly heating burner. He doesn’t seem inclined to speak, and the silence is starting to drive me batty.

“So, how’s Ollie?” I ask, hoping to get him talking.

“Dad’s fine.”

“Still a pain in the ass?”

Finally, a hint of a smile. “Of course.”

“Wouldn’t have him any other way,” I grin, and he gives an absent sort of nod.

Okay, now this is really starting to spook me. Ollie bitch-fests are usually our specialty. It’s our way of brotherly bonding, so to speak, and for Connor not to indulge in even the slightest bit of give and take is unnerving. Whatever’s up, Connor had better spill, and soon, or I’m gonna burst.

The teapot starts to steam and I pour the hot, not quite boiling water over the bags in the mugs. I set one in front of Connor and then sit down across from him, letting the tea seep for a bit. Connor slowly dips his bag in and out, in and out, as if hypnotized by the action. My hands ache to give him a good shake and wake him up, snap him out of this. . . whatever this is.

“Is there something you wanted to tell me?” I ask, trying to sound friendly, open, easy to talk to, when all I really want to do is shout at him to spit it out.

Connor stares down at his mug, wrapping his fingers around the outside as if to warm them, though it’s far from cold in the apartment. “I need to talk to someone.”

“Hey, that’s what I’m here for, little buddy. Whatever you need, you know you can always come to me.”

“I know,” he says softly. “And I am coming to you because I don’t know who else to talk to. Dad. . . I just can’t say this to him. Dinah would be too strange. Even Kyle. . .” he shook his head. “No, I couldn’t say this to Kyle.”

“Say what, Connor?” I ask, leaning forward, eager as a bloodhound catching the scent of its prey.

“I. . . I had sex last night.”

Well, knock me over with a Q-tip. The monk finally lost his virginity. I open my mouth to congratulate him, but his next words cause my jaw to snap shut so fast, I think I crack one of my teeth.

“With a man.”

Connor. Had sex. With a man.

What the hell am I supposed to say to that? I mean, not that it matters. He could have sex with a kangaroo for all I care. . . okay, maybe not a kangaroo, but it isn’t like the news that he’s gay comes as a complete surprise to me. I doubt there’s anyone who knows him who would find this news. The sex part, that would be a bit of a shocker, but the gay part? Eh, no big deal.

Still. . . why the need to share this with me? Connor’s a private person. That he would find the need to share something this momentous with anyone is a bit odd. While we’re pseudo-brothers, we’re not exactly close enough to explore the intimate details of our life with. We’re working on it, but we haven’t gotten very far. That he would come to me anyway, well, I’ve gotta admit, it kind of warms me up inside.

But I still don’t know what to say.

“And. . . ?”

Way to go, Roy. Show him your support.

“Was it good?”

Oh, there we go, much better. He’s never going to come to you with anything ever again.

“I don’t know. I didn’t. . . I didn’t exactly mean to.”

Those few words bring everything into perspective and explain in terrible degrees why he is upset. My eyebrows slam together in a scowl and my stomach burns with a growing fury as I clench and unclench my fists. Someone raped my baby brother. Some fucking son of a bitch took advantage of my Connor’s innocence and stole it from him. As soon as I find the asshole responsible for this, I’m gonna rip his balls off. I’m gonna cut off his dick and feed it to him. I’m gonna--

“No, Roy, it’s not like that,” he says, eyes filling with alarm at expression on my face.

“What are you talking about, Connor?” I growl, ready to do some violence. “Either you meant to, or you didn’t, and if you didn’t, then by god, someone’s gonna pay.”

“I meant to. At least, I think I did. At the time, I definitely did. I got lost in the moment, I let myself get carried away, and the next thing I knew. . .” He flushes a bright red, jade eyes staring down into the depths of his tea.

I take a few deep breaths, letting the rage pass. “Jesus, Connor, don’t do that to a guy! You’ve got to be more specific next time.”

“Sorry,” he mumbles.

“It’s okay. This time. Now that we’ve got that cleared, tell me why you don’t think you meant to.”

“It’s kind of hard to explain.”

“Then why don’t you start at the beginning.”

“Okay,” Connor nods, and takes a deep breath. “The guy, he. . . he’d been watching me for a while. He’d show up at work and we’d talk. I thought he was just being friendly, so I didn’t mind. I enjoyed his company. When he was around, time went by a little faster. Then I noticed the way he smiled at me, it wasn’t quite the same way he’d smile at anyone else. And there was the way he touched me, almost as if by accident, like the way his hand would occasionally brush against mine. It took me a while, but I finally realized he was flirting with me.”

It’s endearing the way Connor says ‘flirting’. He sounds so completely incredulous, as if he can’t imagine anyone ever doing something so mundane as to flirt with him.

“How did this make you feel?” I ask, trying to ignore the knot twisting inside of me as I picture this man smiling at Connor, touching Connor.

“I was flattered by it. No, it was more than that. I liked it. I liked him. He was nice, he had a somewhat off-beat sense of humor, and he wasn’t bad to look at.”

“How not bad?” I interrupt before I can stop myself. Listening to the story of his seduction is becoming more painful for me than the thought that he’d been attacked.

The flush returns to Connor’s face. “He’s one of the most beautiful men I’ve ever seen.”

And now I want to beat the guy even more. What the hell is wrong with me?

“Okay, so the attraction is there on both sides,” I continue, trying to sound casual. “Then what?”

“He asked me out.”

“And clearly, you said yes.”

He nods. “We went to this Indian restaurant, one of the ones where you eat everything with your fingers.”

“Let me guess,” I say wryly, “he fed you from his own hand.”

“We sort of ended up feeding each other,” Connor says, his eyes glazing over with the memory, and again the knot twists inside of me. I can just picture it, Connor and this gorgeous man sitting across from each other, feeding each other bits of rice or whatnot, their fingers on each other’s lips, tongues brushing across their skin, tasting each other beneath the rich curry. . .

Clearing my throat, I shift in my chair. Is it just me, or is it getting a little hot in here?

“And what then?” I ask, my voice sounding a little strained to my ears.

“He walks me home.” Connor stops here, seeming to have difficulty saying what comes next, and though I’m not sure if I want to know, I urge him to continue.

“Go on.”

He hesitates. “I don’t know. . .”

“Connor, it’s all right. I’m here for you.” And for some reason, I have to hear the end of this.

“Okay,” he nods and goes on. “We’re standing outside of the door and he leans in to kiss me. I’m surprised at first, but then I start to like it. I jump when I open my mouth to say something and his tongue slips inside--I. . . I wasn’t expecting that, but I like it, too. He strokes my mouth with his tongue, the feel of it--of him--warming me all over, and I don’t even know what to think anymore. The next thing I know, we’re inside on the sofa and. . . and. . . and he’s. . . he’s straddling me, pressing his body against me, pressing against ALL of me.”

I swallow, trying to moisten my suddenly dry throat, and quickly finish off the rest of my tea. Two beautiful men, grinding together on the sofa--it's enough to make even me long for a bottle of hand lotion and a towel.

“Connor, perhaps you can leave out the gorier details,” I say hoarsely, and he looks up at me with these haunted eyes, I can’t help pitying him.

“But this is where it gets complicated,” he says. “Everything he’s doing is filling me with so many different sensations, and they all feel so good, I don’t want him to stop. So when he starts undressing me, I don’t say anything, and when he gets down on his knees in front of me. . .”

“I get the idea,” I say, closing my eyes. I don’t need to hear anymore to know where this is going. I just know that I’m picturing a man with his head between Connor’s legs, his mouth around Connor’s dick, and for some reason, this man in my mind who started out with dark hair now has red.

“When he’s. . . when he’s finished--I guess when I’m finished,” Connor corrects in a voice layered with embarrassment and snapping me out of my fantasy, “he kisses me again and leads me to the bedroom. I’m still reeling from what’s just happened and I have no idea what he’s going to do, what he’s planning, until it’s over.”

And by the time you figured it out, little bro, you’d been fucked. I just hope the asshole knew what he was doing and spared you a lot of pain. “Then what happened?”

“We fell asleep, and when we woke up this morning, we did it all over again.”

I guess that answers the pain question.

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” I say, trying to slip into the role of supportive brother, even though at the moment, it isn’t a role I’m feeling particularly inclined to play.

“I’m not saying the act itself was bad. I’m saying that. . . Roy, this wasn’t how it was supposed to happen!” he exclaims, eyes bright with disbelief. “I wasn’t supposed to go out for dinner with a guy I barely know and end up in bed. There were supposed to be feelings involved--not just hormones, but real feelings!”

“Real feelings?”

“Yes. Real feelings. Like love.”

I almost groan. The poor kid. I knew he’d wanted his first time to be something special with someone special, but I didn’t know he was holding out for the whole Hollywood movie ending. “Connor, if you were waiting around for true love, then you probably would have died a virgin.”

“I’m not saying it had to be true love. It wasn’t supposed to be just casual sex. It was supposed to mean something!”

“And is that why you came to me?” I ask, getting a sneaking suspicion that there was a reason why he chose me, the king of casual sex, to confide in. “Because I’m an expert at this sort of seduction?”

“What?” His green eyes go wide as he stares at me, and I immediately feel like a total heel. I can tell the thought has never once crossed his mind, and as his face fills with hurt, I wish I’d never said anything. “Roy, no, that’s not why I came to you at all. Is that what you think?”

“Connor, it’s no secret that I’m not exactly celibate. If you’re looking for a reason behind all this, who else would you go to?”

“Ollie,” he answers, and he’s got me there. If I’m the king of casual sex, Oliver Queen is the reigning god. Like adoptive father, like ward. “I came to you because. . . well. . . I don’t know why anymore,” he says, staring down at his hands. “I guess I shouldn’t have come at all.”

He pushes the chair back and stands up, clearly ready to leave. Even clearer is his disappointment in me. Damnit, Harper, want to stick your head just a little further up your ass?

I quickly stand and grab onto his arm. “Connor, wait. I’m sorry. That was a stupid thing to say. I’m just trying to understand why you, or anyone for that matter, would come to me about anything serious.”

Connor looks even more confused than when he first walked in. “Do you mean that?”

“Well, yeah,” I shrug, and shaking his head, he smiles at me. Even in the throes of all his angst, he still manages to smile at me with such love, I’m half tempted to fall on my feet and worship him.

“I know you don’t think much of yourself, or your opinions, but Roy, you’re one of the most noble, good hearted people I know. If nothing else, all your experiences give you a perspective on life no one else will ever have. You hide yourself behind a façade of jokes and your feelings behind all of your teasing, but I know the truth.”

He steps forward and wraps his arms around me, holding me so tight, I should feel as if I’m about to break. Instead, it’s the exact opposite. I feel as if his arms are what’s holding me together.

I can’t believe this. He came here for comfort, and now he’s comforting me.

“What truth, Connor?” I whisper roughly.

“You’re the best and bravest of us all.”

“Liar,” I say, my voice teasing, but I’m trembling inside. My friends have been filling my ears with variations on this theme for years now, but for some reason, I’m tempted to believe Connor.

“Yes, I know, but I’m willing to live with the consequences.”

I laugh, wrapping heavy arms around him. We both know he’s never told a single lie throughout his entire life. Maybe that’s why I’m tempted to believe him.

“I think should get back to your problem now,” I say, drawing away to look at him. Any more lingering on myself and I may endanger my aura of masculinity by bursting into tears. “Connor, are you disappointed in what happened last night, or are you disappointed with yourself?”

The brightness fades from his eyes and he sighs. “I’m disappointed in myself.”

“And that, my friend, is bullshit. You’re human, Connor, and while I don’t recommend making a habit of it simply because I don’t want you going around having sex with men I don’t know, what you did last night was perfectly all right.”

“It is?” His eyes fight with fear and relief, and I smile at him, brushing my thumb over his cheek.

“Absolutely.”

“So does this mean I can go around having sex with men you do know?” he asks, the hint of an impish smile on his lips. I consider the men I know, my teammates, my friends, and I shake my head.

“No.”

The thought of him having sex with any of them is strangely unbearable.

“We’ll find someone who’s right for you, don’t you worry. It may take a while, but Connor, you deserve the best. Hell, if I thought I was anywhere near worthy of you, I’d ask you out myself, but—”

“Okay.”

My words stumble to a halt and for a moment, I can’t think straight. What did he just say?

“I said yes, Roy, I’ll go out with you.”

That’s what I thought.

[Completed May 4, 2004]
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Ready, Aim, Fire!