Original: "Rebel Yell" Slash
Summary: Where you find heroes you find sidekicks, and usually an annoying news reporter as well.
Yoel Yell, better known to the public as Juvenile Justice's sidekick, Rebel, was standing on the edge of a building waiting for his hero to show up. Figuratively and literally. Literally because he was waiting for JJ to arrive so that they could go on patrol. Figuratively because he was single.
Unfortunately.
You wouldn't think that with being a metahuman and all he wouldn't have a tough time getting dates. unfortunately people could seem to get past the sidekick part. Rebel couldn't blame them. He himself was in love with a superhero. Juvenile Justice, in fact.
Unfortunately.
Rebel knew that he didn't stand a chance. He was a sidekick after all. JJ spent time around full fledged superheroes complete with eight-packs and spandex. Rebel only had a six-pack and wore skinny jeans. Not that he wanted to wear skinny jeans; his PR team thought that it would be good for his image. Wind whipped around him pulling at his hoodie. Rebel tugged the hood of his zippy hoodie further down, obscuring his face more. He wore a plain black Zorro mask just in case it flew off; better safe than sorry.
Sick of waiting, Rebel stepped off the side of the building.
He plummeted straight down into the dark of the streets below. About thirty feet from the road he engaged his superpower and instantly started slowing down. With a soft tap he landed. He took off at a jog towards where he knew JJ would be.
See, Rebel may be a sidekick, but it wasn't for lack of power or abilities. It was for lack of control. Sure, he could fall off buildings and not kill himself and find whoever he wanted, but his power got the best of him and sometimes he would find himself fifteen feet off the ground or know where everyone was all at once (which gave him huge headaches, believe you me). Most superheroes started out as sidekicks, if they learned control they could become superheroes.
Rebel was getting closer, JJ was just around the corner, in an alley. Why was he in an alley? Did he meet with a villain on his way to their meeting point? He turned, and then ducked back behind the corner.
Juvenile Justice was there all right, but unless the methods of overthrowing evil had changed Rebel was pretty sure that he was making out with the Midnight Hawk.
MH and JJ were...together?
Rebel was trying really hard to not think on that kiss. That was why he wasn't having a heartbreak, and he was most certainly not about to meet with a reporter. He wasn't mad, or hurt that JJ hadn't trusted him with that sort of information. After all, they were only partners in eradicating crime. You would think that maybe he would be warned to pull his punches or something.
He wasn't mad, and he wasn't about to meet with a one Christian Sage to throw it on the front page of the newspapers.
"You must be Rebel."
Due to the hood and mask Christian couldn't see that Rebel raised an eyebrow at him. But he did. "What gave it away? The suit?"
The tall man laughed and took a seat. "You never know, you could have been some other moody teenager. You're probably one of the only superheroes that doesn't have to change outfits when they're done fighting crime." His hair was darker than JJ's Rebel noticed, sort of a dirty dishwater blonde instead of the surfer blond the hero had going on.
"I change." Rebel protested.
"Oh? Into what?"
Rebel wasn't about to say Spiderman pajamas so he changed the subject, "We're not here to talk about me."
"Then who are we here to talk about?" Christian readied his pencil
Rebel hesitated. Last chance to leave. "...Juvenile Justice...and Midnight Hawk."
"What about them?"
"I saw them...together."
"Uh, they're archenemies, that's not that unusual."
"Kissing...together."
Christian's head snapped up from his writing. "No shit."
"None."
The reporter put his pen back to paper, "Tell me more."
When Rebel woke up the following morning he wanted to shoot himself in the head. Okay, maybe not that drastic. Maybe just a kick in the head. Rebel, as a rule, tried not to make life changing decisions when angry. He tumbled out of bed onto the floor. He fished around in his pants from yesterday frantically. His fingers closed on a crumpled business card that Christian had given him after last night, saying something about if he changed his mind. Well, it hadn't been crumpled when Christian gave it to him.
He bit his lip as he dialed. Was it too late? It was six o'clock, were newspapers already printed by then? Finally someone picked up on the other end.
"Hell?" a groggy voice answered.
"Uh...hello? Is this Christian?"
"Yeah? Who's this?"
"Rebel."
There was a yawn on the other end, "oh, you. What's up?"
"I've...changed my mind, is it too late to have the story retracted?"
"Hmmm... I dunno. I haven't sent it to my editor yet, but it's a big piece, worth a lot of money..." It might have been Rebel's imagination, but did Christian sound amused?
"Please. I don't much, but...what I did was wrong."
"Hm. Tell you what, meet me for dinner tonight, and I'll forget all about the article."
Rebel frowned, "what's the catch?"
"I want you to come as...yourself, Mr. Yell."
Rebel dropped the phone.
And that's how he found himself once again waiting for Christian Sage. He was in front of a nice looking family restaurant in baggy shorts and a tee shirt feeling naked without his mask. "Ah, sorry I'm late Yoel."
Rebel scowled, "if you're going to call me by my name use my last one."
"Sorry I'm late, Yell."
Rebel flushed, "On second thought, don't call me anything." He turned around and walked into the restaurant.
Two hours later he found himself sharing a drink at a bar with the reporter. Surprisingly he was enjoying himself despite Christian's comments.
"You know, I had thought you were a teenager at first." Like those ones.
Rebel groaned, "It's the skinny jeans isn't it? I keep on telling PR that I look like some stupid depressed teen, but they persist; saying it's hip or something."
"PR?"
"Don't you ever stop asking questions?"
"No. PR?"
Rebel sighed, "You remember Batman? Spiderman? Green Hornet? Well, a lot of superheroes didn't like the fact that they weren't seen as heroes, not that B-man, S-man, and G-net really minded. Anyways. Every new potential hero gets a PR team to help them with their image, funded by the SHO." He got a blank look from Christian, "The Superhero Organization. Anyways. I'll be making hero soon, so we've got to remake my image anyways, though they haven't decided if I should be killed off and reappear as someone new, or single-handedly defeat a fake supervillian and have herohood thrust upon me." Rebel blinked and looked down into his drink, "I'm drinking too much. This is your fault."
Christian gave him an innocent smile, sort of a 'who, me?' look. "I think you should drink more."
"Well, I think, I think...you should kiss me."
Christian looked startled, "What?"
"Yes," Rebel liked this idea, "You got me drunk, you owe me kisses." Hey Christian was hot, and funny, and knew too much anyways so screw it. Or him. Yes, definitely screw him.
"You don't sound drunk to me."
"I'm an intelligent drunk." Rebel leaned forward and almost fell out of his chair. Christian would have caught him mid-fall if Rebel hadn't caught himself and flew an entirely different direction. "Oops," he laughed from the floor, "Too much power."
Christian stood up and lifted Rebel bodily from the floor, "I think it's time you went home."
"Aw, your home?"
"No," Christian gave him a soft kiss on the lips, "You'll have to settle for this for now."
He seemed to have broken Rebel. His mouth opened and closed several times but no sound came out. The reporter was settling Rebel into his car, apparently he had flown there, when Rebel finally found something to say.
"Hey, how'd you learn my name in the first place?"
Christian smirked, "Caller ID."
Rebel swore.
Yoel Yell, better known to the public as Juvenile Justice's sidekick, Rebel, was standing on the edge of a building waiting for his hero to show up. Figuratively and literally. Literally because he was waiting for JJ to arrive so that they could go on patrol. Figuratively because he was single.
Unfortunately.
You wouldn't think that with being a metahuman and all he wouldn't have a tough time getting dates. unfortunately people could seem to get past the sidekick part. Rebel couldn't blame them. He himself was in love with a superhero. Juvenile Justice, in fact.
Unfortunately.
Rebel knew that he didn't stand a chance. He was a sidekick after all. JJ spent time around full fledged superheroes complete with eight-packs and spandex. Rebel only had a six-pack and wore skinny jeans. Not that he wanted to wear skinny jeans; his PR team thought that it would be good for his image. Wind whipped around him pulling at his hoodie. Rebel tugged the hood of his zippy hoodie further down, obscuring his face more. He wore a plain black Zorro mask just in case it flew off; better safe than sorry.
Sick of waiting, Rebel stepped off the side of the building.
He plummeted straight down into the dark of the streets below. About thirty feet from the road he engaged his superpower and instantly started slowing down. With a soft tap he landed. He took off at a jog towards where he knew JJ would be.
See, Rebel may be a sidekick, but it wasn't for lack of power or abilities. It was for lack of control. Sure, he could fall off buildings and not kill himself and find whoever he wanted, but his power got the best of him and sometimes he would find himself fifteen feet off the ground or know where everyone was all at once (which gave him huge headaches, believe you me). Most superheroes started out as sidekicks, if they learned control they could become superheroes.
Rebel was getting closer, JJ was just around the corner, in an alley. Why was he in an alley? Did he meet with a villain on his way to their meeting point? He turned, and then ducked back behind the corner.
Juvenile Justice was there all right, but unless the methods of overthrowing evil had changed Rebel was pretty sure that he was making out with the Midnight Hawk.
MH and JJ were...together?
Rebel was trying really hard to not think on that kiss. That was why he wasn't having a heartbreak, and he was most certainly not about to meet with a reporter. He wasn't mad, or hurt that JJ hadn't trusted him with that sort of information. After all, they were only partners in eradicating crime. You would think that maybe he would be warned to pull his punches or something.
He wasn't mad, and he wasn't about to meet with a one Christian Sage to throw it on the front page of the newspapers.
"You must be Rebel."
Due to the hood and mask Christian couldn't see that Rebel raised an eyebrow at him. But he did. "What gave it away? The suit?"
The tall man laughed and took a seat. "You never know, you could have been some other moody teenager. You're probably one of the only superheroes that doesn't have to change outfits when they're done fighting crime." His hair was darker than JJ's Rebel noticed, sort of a dirty dishwater blonde instead of the surfer blond the hero had going on.
"I change." Rebel protested.
"Oh? Into what?"
Rebel wasn't about to say Spiderman pajamas so he changed the subject, "We're not here to talk about me."
"Then who are we here to talk about?" Christian readied his pencil
Rebel hesitated. Last chance to leave. "...Juvenile Justice...and Midnight Hawk."
"What about them?"
"I saw them...together."
"Uh, they're archenemies, that's not that unusual."
"Kissing...together."
Christian's head snapped up from his writing. "No shit."
"None."
The reporter put his pen back to paper, "Tell me more."
When Rebel woke up the following morning he wanted to shoot himself in the head. Okay, maybe not that drastic. Maybe just a kick in the head. Rebel, as a rule, tried not to make life changing decisions when angry. He tumbled out of bed onto the floor. He fished around in his pants from yesterday frantically. His fingers closed on a crumpled business card that Christian had given him after last night, saying something about if he changed his mind. Well, it hadn't been crumpled when Christian gave it to him.
He bit his lip as he dialed. Was it too late? It was six o'clock, were newspapers already printed by then? Finally someone picked up on the other end.
"Hell?" a groggy voice answered.
"Uh...hello? Is this Christian?"
"Yeah? Who's this?"
"Rebel."
There was a yawn on the other end, "oh, you. What's up?"
"I've...changed my mind, is it too late to have the story retracted?"
"Hmmm... I dunno. I haven't sent it to my editor yet, but it's a big piece, worth a lot of money..." It might have been Rebel's imagination, but did Christian sound amused?
"Please. I don't much, but...what I did was wrong."
"Hm. Tell you what, meet me for dinner tonight, and I'll forget all about the article."
Rebel frowned, "what's the catch?"
"I want you to come as...yourself, Mr. Yell."
Rebel dropped the phone.
And that's how he found himself once again waiting for Christian Sage. He was in front of a nice looking family restaurant in baggy shorts and a tee shirt feeling naked without his mask. "Ah, sorry I'm late Yoel."
Rebel scowled, "if you're going to call me by my name use my last one."
"Sorry I'm late, Yell."
Rebel flushed, "On second thought, don't call me anything." He turned around and walked into the restaurant.
Two hours later he found himself sharing a drink at a bar with the reporter. Surprisingly he was enjoying himself despite Christian's comments.
"You know, I had thought you were a teenager at first." Like those ones.
Rebel groaned, "It's the skinny jeans isn't it? I keep on telling PR that I look like some stupid depressed teen, but they persist; saying it's hip or something."
"PR?"
"Don't you ever stop asking questions?"
"No. PR?"
Rebel sighed, "You remember Batman? Spiderman? Green Hornet? Well, a lot of superheroes didn't like the fact that they weren't seen as heroes, not that B-man, S-man, and G-net really minded. Anyways. Every new potential hero gets a PR team to help them with their image, funded by the SHO." He got a blank look from Christian, "The Superhero Organization. Anyways. I'll be making hero soon, so we've got to remake my image anyways, though they haven't decided if I should be killed off and reappear as someone new, or single-handedly defeat a fake supervillian and have herohood thrust upon me." Rebel blinked and looked down into his drink, "I'm drinking too much. This is your fault."
Christian gave him an innocent smile, sort of a 'who, me?' look. "I think you should drink more."
"Well, I think, I think...you should kiss me."
Christian looked startled, "What?"
"Yes," Rebel liked this idea, "You got me drunk, you owe me kisses." Hey Christian was hot, and funny, and knew too much anyways so screw it. Or him. Yes, definitely screw him.
"You don't sound drunk to me."
"I'm an intelligent drunk." Rebel leaned forward and almost fell out of his chair. Christian would have caught him mid-fall if Rebel hadn't caught himself and flew an entirely different direction. "Oops," he laughed from the floor, "Too much power."
Christian stood up and lifted Rebel bodily from the floor, "I think it's time you went home."
"Aw, your home?"
"No," Christian gave him a soft kiss on the lips, "You'll have to settle for this for now."
He seemed to have broken Rebel. His mouth opened and closed several times but no sound came out. The reporter was settling Rebel into his car, apparently he had flown there, when Rebel finally found something to say.
"Hey, how'd you learn my name in the first place?"
Christian smirked, "Caller ID."
Rebel swore.