Entering Barry Allen, slipping into the tight confines of his muscular body, is hot – exceptionally hot…but it's also rather anti-climatic.
Len likes moaning. He adores screaming. But all in all, he's a whore for a good, old-fashioned gasp and a drawn out, "Oh Gawd!" especially during that first slide in, when he buries himself to the base, with his lover's body quivering underneath him, a lower lip bitten, fighting against restraint, eventually losing that battle.
But Barry's so polite about sex – quiet, reserved. He's so polite about fucking everything in his life.
And Len doesn't do polite.
He originally thought that banging The Flash would be the pinnacle of sexual experiences - raw and animalistic, lots of biting, hair pulling, sweat and blood and expletive prayers to the Almighty, chanted through clenched teeth in a room that gets hotter and more humid by the ever-fuckin' second. But having sex with The Flash actually boils down to having sex with Central City CSI Barry Allen, Trivial Pursuit champion and Karaoke enthusiast.
Len's tired of fucking in silence. He wants to hear Barry make some noise.
Len pulls out everything he has in his arsenal to provoke Barry. He sucks on his neck, kisses down his spine, reaches around and strokes him fast, strokes him slow, pauses to scratch down his shaft with rough, calloused fingertips, then pounds inside him hard and deep, which illicit an arch to Barry's back as he wordlessly begs for more, and a few muffled whimpers, on the verge of becoming a full-fledged moan, low in his throat, bubbling up his chest...stopping there, choked off at his throat.
Close, but nowhere near enough.
"You know, Barry," Len says, grabbing Barry's hips, digging his nails in to calmly express his irritation, "partners generally like to know that the people they're drilling enjoy what they're doing. So you might want to consider throwing me a bone for my boner? A moan? An oh yes? Maybe even a Len, you hunk, you incredible stud?"
Barry hangs his head, breathless from being edged, from Len's non-stop teasing, his back and forth alternating between gentle and rough, fast and slow, taking Barry to the brink just to stop short with a petulant huff and an annoyed sigh.
"I'll compromise," Len continues after Barry's lack of a comment. "I'll settle for you busting a lamp in the throes of ecstasy. Double points if someone gets nervous and calls the cops."
Len snickers at the intrusive thought of Joe West coming on the scene and breaking down the door to see the two of them locked together like this, with Len filling Barry's ass, cumming on the scene.
"Do you really want to know that I'm enjoying myself?" Barry asks, panting beneath him. "Or do you just need me to stroke your enormous ego?"
"At least my ego gets off louder than you," Len chuckles.
Barry cranes his head to glare at Len kneeling behind him, holding his hips at a standstill. He smirks at Len's cocky display of dominance.
"Well, if you're going to be a dick about it…"
Len knows what Barry's about to do. He's going to speed things up, which only benefits Barry, really, by getting himself off and frustrating the shit out of Len, who then gets to go cuddle up on the sofa alone with his cold gun, letting the latent chill from his weapon seep through his jeans and soothe his aching balls.
Len's not having that.
This time, he came prepared.
He reaches into the pocket of his pants, lying beside him the bed, and pulls out a metal box containing a rather intimidating-looking hypodermic needle. Already primed for action, he sticks Barry in the right ass cheek and pushes the plunger.
"Ouch! Jesus Christ!" Barry yelps, lunging up to spin around, but Len's hand between his shoulder blades pushes down, putting a stop to that. "What the frick…"
"Nanites," Len says, tossing the hypodermic on to the floor. "I'm slowing your ass down so you don't pull that speedy sex shit."
"Wha-" Barry stares at the needle on the floor, then back at Len's obnoxiously smug face.
"Relax," Len says, rubbing the sore spot on Barry's ass cheek, then giving it a sharp smack. "It's only temporary."
"Where the hell did you get those?" Barry asks, feeling the effects of the nanites flooding his system, messing with the Speed Force within him. But these nanites feel different, a little stronger than others Barry has encountered. Barry tries to vibrate them away, but he can't. They've invaded every inch of him and taken hold.
"Don't matter," Len says simply. "Now, let's try this again. I'm gonna fuck you, and you're gonna moan for me, nice and loud. And don't worry if you don't get it right the first time. By my calculations" – Len grins wolfishly at Barry's indignant scowl – "we've got most of the night."
