This is an old tumblr prompt I had filled only to the point where Barry says Len can keep him cuffed. The other day someone had reblogged it, and I decided to finish it off. And well...I think I've outdone myself.
Original post at crimsondomingo DOT tumblr DOT com SLASH post/145724299414/prompt-au-of-revenge-of-the-rogues-where-barry
Len lined up his shots with Mick, caging The Scarlet Speedster between them, and prepared to center their blasts dead on to finish the job. The Flash had given them a good chase, but he was too much of a liability to let live.
Wasn't he?
The Flash collapsed to his knees between them, hands flailing out to catch himself as he toppled over. He couldn't stay upright. He passed out cold onto the ground, as Mick continued to move his blast of fire closer.
"Wait!" Len called out, ceasing the stream from his cold gun and stepping forward.
Mick pulled back with a grunt. "The hell for? We got 'im."
"Yeah…we do," Len said.
And if he'd already won, he saw no point in finishing the job bloody. Wasn't his style. If he was attacked head on, had no choice, or if Flash would be a thorn in his side forever, that was one thing, but now they had him—and Len could think of so many better ways for the night to end with The Flash at his mercy.
"Pick him up. I have a better idea."
Barry blinked awake sluggishly. He felt awful. And freezing. Why was it so cold?
He was on a sofa—no, a day bed, with a wrought iron frame—that he was currently handcuffed to! And he wasn't wearing his suit!
He laid on his back, arms stretched above his head, cuffed to the bed, in nothing but his underwear. Where the hell…?
"Imagine my surprise to find out you're just some kid under that mask."
Snart. Barry snarled as he arched up in a vain attempt to pull himself free. He was so cold.
Snart approached him from across the dark room—some safe house, small, with low ceilings, maybe a basement somewhere—and sat on the coffee table to Barry's left. He wore his signature Captain Cold outfit, sans the goggles or gun, but likely keeping on the gloves and parka because of the low temperature.
"I'm twenty-five, asshole," Barry bit out. "What are you going to do to me?"
Snart folded his hands in front of him and tilted his head. "Nothing. I'm not a killer by nature, Flash. You were in my way. I responded accordingly. But I won. Saw no need to finish the job. But then we have a problem, don't we? Because if I let you go, I'm back to where I started with a red menace on my tail. I don't want to kill you. Be a waste, I think…when I know you just mean well, for this city and its people. I can appreciate that. Commendable. So maybe we can come to an agreement now that I know your face."
"You don't know my name."
"You really think it'll take long for that to change? Face like yours is…memorable."
"Right," Barry huffed, and turned his attention to the ceiling. He felt nervous and exposed, even if Snart had said he had no plans to kill or torture him. He was still handcuffed and practically naked in front of his enemy.
"I'll give you time to think about it, Flash."
"Where's my suit?"
"Elsewhere. Couldn't risk your friends tracking you with it."
Damn. Barry should have known Snart would be smart enough to think of that. "It's freezing in here."
"Cold seems to slow you down. Sorry for the discomfort, but I have to think smart. Wouldn't want you getting any ideas." He stood, but his eyes traveled down Barry's body with chilling penetration. Barry shivered. He'd never had anyone look at him like that, like some hungry predator. "You decide to play nice, maybe we can get creative with ways to warm you up."
Barry flushed, and with the low rumble of Snart's chuckle, he didn't have to look at his body to know that the color had spread all the way down his chest. "Are you seriously hitting on me while you have me tied up?"
"Not to worry, kid. If I decided to act on my desires, you wouldn't stay restrained unless you wanted to be. I'd only take you willing. But I wouldn't turn down the offer now that I know what's under that suit."
"So if I offered…you'd let me go?"
Snart kept his smile, but his nose wrinkled in distaste. "I'm afraid that would have to be a bonus part of our negotiations. I don't trade in sex. I'm a businessman. I'll let you go, and keep your secrets, if you give me leeway on the streets. Simple. Turn a blind eye. Keep me off the police's radar. I play nice, if you play nice. Anything else, well…" He bit his lip, and reached down just barely to brush his gloved hand along Barry's stomach. "That would only be if you wanted it."
Barry shivered again, because shit—he could feel himself reacting, growing hard just thinking about it. The situation was a little too close to several of his midnight fantasies. If Snart had meant him any real harm, demanded sex outright, scared Barry at all, it would have turned his stomach to feel that teasing touch, but here he was completely at the man's mercy, and Snart was still making deals, making it clear what lines he wouldn't cross.
"You ever hurt anyone again, the deal's off," Barry said. "You're better than that anyway. You don't need innocents involved or anybody dying. You have to believe that too, or you wouldn't have brought me here."
Snart took in a slow breath and retracted his hand as he thought over Barry's amendments. "Fair enough. I am too good for collateral damage. So if we're in agreement, do I get a name? Or you gonna make me work for it?"
Barry huffed, eyeing Snart unable to think of anything but how the man might feel touching him without those gloves on. He was making a deal with the devil, and yet…he could see the benefits. "Barry Allen. Nice to meet you, Cold."
"Len. Nice to meet you, Barry. No tricks now. If Mick doesn't hear from me within the hour, he'll destroy your suit by torching the building it's in. By then your friends might have tracked it, and that would just get messy."
"We do this, you don't ever bring any of them into it," Barry warned.
"I won't. Just making sure you're not thinking of a double cross."
"Shouldn't I be the one worried about that?"
Snart grinned. "You're smart, kid. That's good. I'm smart too, and this deal is mutually beneficial. I'll keep up my end. Now, I'm gonna unlock these cuffs. And then, as long as you stay civil, I'll radio Mick. Deal?"
"I won't try anything. But wait," Barry said when Snart pulled a key from his pocket and gripped his wrists. Snart's vibrant blue eyes studied him with that same intensity that made Barry tremble.
It was a good deal, all things considered, given the situation Barry was in, and what Snart was willing to agree to. As for the other offer, the man was gorgeous; Barry had never denied that. And it had been a really long time since he'd been with someone.
He licked his lips, shifted his hips. He was flushed and bare, but his wounds from the heat and cold guns during their fight had all healed. How often would he get the chance to safely play out one of his fantasies in real life?
"Turn up the heat a little," Barry said, "and you can keep me cuffed for as long as you want. Whatever else you might wanna do…" He trailed tellingly, knowing Snart would accept, if the way the man swallowed low in his throat and eyed Barry's body was any indication.
"My, my, Barry…aren't you a naughty one?" He slid the key back into his pocket and stepped away from the bed.
Barry's stomach fluttered with desire as he lost sight of Snart, and a moment later the vent above him rumbled with a blast of heat. Barry sighed in relief. It would take a while for him to fully thaw, but then…
Snart reappeared from out of the shadows. He pulled the gloves from his hands, digit by digit, predatory grin firmly in place. Just the thought of what Barry had asked for, what he was in for, made him harden further within his slim black shorts. There was no hiding how eager he was, restrained and spread before Snart like a meal.
"Mmm," Snart hummed as he eyed how Barry strained against his underwear. He dropped his gloves on the coffee table and pulled a radio from his parka that he brought to his mouth. "Mick, stand down. I'll get the suit later. Don't return to the safe house. I'll be…otherwise occupied."
"Thought you didn't wanna hurt the kid?" Heat Wave's voice crackled back.
"I don't. Just need to lay some ground rules for our…new arrangement," he smirked.
Rory chuckled like he knew exactly what was really going on. "Have fun, pal. I'll keep the suit in one piece."
At least Barry would get the Flash suit back. He had a moment to wonder if he was making a horrible mistake as Snart put the radio away and began to drop the parka from his shoulders. The cold gun was there after all, in a holster at his hip. He drew it, but set it on the coffee table with the rest of his gear.
The sweater and thermal pants clung to Snart's body snugly, which was entirely lost when he covered himself in that oversized coat. This view was better.
"I'm afraid my hands might be a bit…chilly," Snart said, "but you be the judge." He reached for Barry, alighting his fingers against the tender skin of his neck and starting a slow trail down to his clavicle.
Barry shuddered. Snart's hands were cold, but it felt invigorating while the rest of his skin started to heat up.
Snart continued a slow trek, just the pads of his fingers down the center of Barry's chest, pausing to circle back and move aside to brush a nipple. It hardened at his touch, already alert from the previous chill in the air. Then he continued on, down past Barry's ribs.
Barry sucked in a breath, ticklish and turned on by the torturous pace. He had no idea what Snart would do next, and that thrilled him like nothing ever had before.
"Warming up yet?" Snart asked with a flick of his eyes down Barry's body.
Barry bit his lip and nodded, urging Snart to keep going.
He did, even more slowly than before, around Barry's navel and down between his hips. Barry bucked up, willing Snart to continue past the line of his underwear, above or beneath the fabric, he didn't care which.
"I like that you're eager," Snart said, but instead of doing what Barry wanted, he removed his hand, "but speed's your bag, Flash. I prefer to draw things out." He reached with his other hand and, starting at Barry's ankle, started to trail his fingertips slowly up.
Barry was already dampening the front of his shorts. He wanted Snart to touch him, really touch him, but then the suspense would end, and he didn't want this over quickly. His hips began a rhythmic rocking, trying to find some relief in the scant friction from his underwear.
Snart watched the subtle roll of his hips with rapt attention, fingertips moving up past Barry's knee. "I like that…the way you look moving like that, like you can barely stand the wait." Each consonant was enunciated and clipped. It drew Barry's attention to Snart's lips, ever teasing, drawing up into a crease of a sideways smile.
The fingers moved up Barry's thigh.
"I'm going to keep your underwear on for as long as possible, Barry," he said, using Barry's real name, that he now knew just like he knew his face. "I want them so soaked, you'll be dripping down your thigh, you're so wet, before I finally pull them off of you."
A desperate whine ripped from Barry's throat. Just Snart's voice and the barest brush of his skin had Barry aching. "W-We haven't…discussed any…rules," he managed to huff out, voice quaking from how his body was quaking.
Not quaking. Vibrating. Shit.
"Now, now, Barry…I thought we agreed rule number one was you wouldn't use your powers to get out of these cuffs." Snart raised an eyebrow at Barry's occasionally blurring form, and pulled his hand away just as he had been about to reach the line of his underwear again.
"I'm not," Barry swore, because god he wanted to be touched, didn't remember the last time anyone had touched him, but apparently being this turned on meant his powers went haywire. "I can't control it…let me just…" He clenched his eyes shut, willing himself to stay focused and not vibrate like he was some newbie who'd just gotten his powers. If this had happened while on a date with someone who didn't know he was The Flash, he would have been in so much trouble.
"That so?" Snart said with increased interest. "Losing your cool, Flash?" he teased, and suddenly warm breath was on Barry's thigh where his fingers had been and then…a kiss, a gentle press of lips and the flick of a tongue.
"Oh god," Barry shuddered again, vibrated, but then blessedly managed to wrangle his powers in and slow down. He was still in the cuffs. He didn't think he could phase out of them by vibrating—could he? But even if that was possible, he definitely didn't want to. "I'm good, I'll…I'll be good." He opened his eyes to see Snart's face leaning close to his thigh still, pleased grin promising all sorts of devious things he wanted to do to him, but at a glacial pace.
"Rules, Barry. Why don't we start with anything you don't want to do?" Snart said as he stood up straight and brought his hand down to Barry's hipbone, trailing up instead of down where Barry wanted.
"U-Uhh, well…"
"Or…I can tell you all the things I'd like to do to you and see if anything piques your interest?"
"Yes," Barry said, if only to hear Snart's voice like that some more. "That."
"Well then…" Snart circled Barry's nipple again, once, twice, then moved to the other. "If you're concerned about me having my wicked way with you, you can relax. Some things we'll have to wait on, as we are woefully unprepared with the right supplies. Safety first. Always. But next time…" He licked his lips and Barry quivered as Snart's hand reached his neck again, then retraced its path down. "For now, we can compromise. I'm thinking about…exploring how much I can stretch you, seeing how tight you are, getting intimately acquainted with how good you'd feel for next time when I sink…deep…inside."
Barry's hips rocked up again as Snart's hand returned to his underwear, and finally, this time, kept going. Only as he trailed down and would have, should have finally touched Barry directly, he detoured to the left down Barry's thigh.
"Ngn…" Barry whined for want of just one touch—fuck, it was torture.
"To start though…" Snart grinned smugly, "I can think of various uses for those lovely lips of yours."
Yes. That. Barry could do that. He could definitely do that. He nodded vigorously. He might have agreed to anything with how wound up he was, but it was also thrilling to imagine seeing the thief bare and tasting his skin. "That sounds…good."
"Good," Snart repeated, his hand back down at Barry's ankle. He reached across to trail up the other side. "A couple additional rules. One: you don't get out of the cuffs yourself. I get you out when I say we're done. And two…" He leaned forward as his hand reached Barry's thigh and pressed his lips there with a flick of his tongue like he'd done to the other leg. "You don't come until I do."
"And if I can't help it?" Barry trembled. He gasped when Snart actually let his fingers slip up inside the line of his underwear, pushing up higher, higher, but then pulling away.
"Then I keep you here until you come again."
Barry pressed his head back into the bed, hips bucking up higher, the front of his shorts budding with heady wetness. "Not exactly…making me want to follow the rules," he said with an impish smirk.
Snart hummed like that was exactly what he wanted to hear. He pulled his hand away, but shifted from foot to foot like he was—removing his boots. Finally. He climbed onto the bed, his knee dipping the mattress to the left, then the other leg swung up to straddle Barry's hips.
Barry tried to buck into him.
"Ah ah ah," Snart waved a finger at him like a scolding teacher. "Not yet. I have plans for those lips, remember?" He crawled up Barry's body on hands and knees, fully clothed, until his knees spread wider to box in Barry's shoulders and there was no mistaking what he planned to do. He sat up and started to undo his fly.
Barry's tongue darted out in expectation. With his hands cuffed above his head, he was at Snart's mercy; all he could do was accept whatever Snart gave him, and god, Barry wanted it—he couldn't believe how much he wanted it.
Snart reached in and pulled himself out, holding his rather impressive length in elegant, expressive fingers. He was dripping just like Barry. Barry wanted to lap the moisture up.
Snart must have seen the desire in his eyes, because he chuckled. "Happy to oblige, Barry," he said, and dipped his hips forward, legs spreading wider to accommodate, one hand guiding him toward Barry's mouth, while the other grabbed onto the bedframe.
Barry opened open up willingly, tongue seeking the liquid leaking down Snart's skin, lips welcoming the smooth slide of him in at the tip, just his head breaching Barry's mouth at first, but Barry sucked and twirled his tongue for all he was worth. He was going to earn what Snart did to him afterward. He wanted to hear the man moan.
Len bit back the moan that threatened to spill out of him. He had his cock in Flash's mouth, and the kid was no slouch with his tongue. Fuck, it felt amazing, and hot, and he had to summon every ounce of his self-control not to thrust in deeper until he came. He wanted this to last.
Len kept his pace slow, a tease against Barry's lips, pushing in further only when Barry opened wider as if to beckon him in. Len pulled his hand away and let it join the other on the bedframe.
Barry hummed in pleasure like he wanted more, so Len complied, quaking as his hips began a steady rhythm—in, sliding back out until Barry's tongue coiled around his head, then in again, with spittle dribbling from the corner of Barry's mouth.
Len was out of his mind. He'd had the chance to rid himself of The Flash for good, and somehow he'd ended up here instead. But he hadn't seen the point in killing someone who didn't mean him any real harm, who merely clashed with his ideals and could be put to so much better use. Len never expected they'd use each other quite like this. Hadn't expected such a pretty face beneath that cowl. But crazy or not, he had no regrets about how this night had turned out.
Barry gasped and turned his head, needing a moment's reprieve. Len pulled away as he panted, "Take…take your clothes off. Please. You're all covered up. Isn't fair."
And just like that, Len's stomach twisted, which at least helped to stave off his orgasm. He hadn't planned on removing anything other than his pants down his hips, but Barry looked so pleading, and then confused when Len stilled and didn't respond.
"Please? You didn't say it was a rule that you wouldn't," Barry said, smile twitching, hoping he was being coy and that he hadn't ruined anything.
No, Len hadn't said that was a rule, but he always hesitated in moments like this. He didn't want to spoil the mood. Refusing Barry would do that just as easily as obeying though, so better to give the kid what he wanted and hope…
"New rule then." Len summoned a smile and gripped the edges of his sweater. "No questions." He pulled his sweater off in one fluid motion.
Barry gazed hungrily up at him, lips shiny and reddened, as his eyes raked across Len's bare form…and then widened. His smile fell as he noticed the ugly collection of scars covering every inch of Len's chest and arms.
Len scooted down Barry's chest, and the kid strained against his cuffs, panicked that things were ending, that Len was leaving. But no…no. Len wasn't calling it quits even with this setback. He just needed a better angle.
"No questions," he said again, and planted his hands on either side of Barry's head once he'd slithered down to be better in line with him. "That's all."
"O-Okay."
"Good."
The weight of Len's body barely resisted the urge to press down into Barry. His lips looked so beautifully used. Len licked his way between them with a claim on what lay within, kissing Barry deep. He'd felt possessive of The Flash from the moment a blur of red and lightning first appeared to thwart him. Now the kid was his.
Barry's whimpers were the sweetest music. He tried to buck up again, tried to crook his legs and coil them around Len's waist.
"Not…yet," Len whispered with a flick of his tongue at Barry's lips. He pushed Barry's knees back down to lay flat, then pulled up and swung his leg around to slide off the bed.
"Wait," Barry looked to him in desperation.
"Patience," Len said.
In full view of Barry, he peeled the tight thermal pants down his legs. There were more scars there, scars everywhere on Len's body, but other than Barry's initial surprise, he didn't seem to mind. His pupils were blown black as he watched Len, practically writhing on the bed, and Len hadn't even touched him yet.
Len climbed back over Barry, slower this time, his naked length dragging across the kid's underwear and the skin of his stomach. Barry gave an all over shudder, and Len moaned at the vibrations before he could stop himself. He'd felt that all the way through him.
"I can do that again...if you want," Barry said. "I think."
Len eyed the speedster beneath him in awe, but as good as that had felt, another tremor and Len might be done for. "Save it. In fact, do everything you can…not to react." He punctuated the request with a grind of his hips. The fabric of Barry's underwear was sopping.
Barry's mouth fell open, speechless, brow furrowed tight, as his hips stuttered upward before he fought to do as he'd been told and keep them still.
Len ground down into him again.
"Snart."
Again. "Are you soaked enough yet, Barry?"
"Yes, please."
"Mmm," the way the kid's flush spread across his cheeks, down his neck, and lower, was mesmerizing, "I disagree. But we'll get there.
Barry choked back a sob as Len slipped down low, lower, right between his legs. Barry looked down at him with renewed pleading, but Len wouldn't give in, not yet. Teasing this kid to incoherence was going to be his next crowning achievement.
Placing both palms on the inside of Barry's thighs, Len spread those long legs wider and rocked Barry's hips back until his feet left the bed. He slid a hand up the inside of Barry's thigh beneath his shorts and pulled the fabric aside, giving him a peak at the intimate skin within. Then he buried his face there and darted out his tongue.
Every noise that left Barry was filthier than the last. Len licked again with a slow twirl right where he'd love to press inside—next time. Soon. God, he'd do it now even without supplies if Barry was willing, but no, Len was smarter than that, even with a squeaky clean superhero. Though obviously not too squeaky clean.
"H-Higher…" Barry panted, wanting Len's tongue to follow that trail of wetness up to its source.
"Not yet," Len said again.
Barry groaned in misery—such beautiful misery.
Len pulled away, hovered over Barry, and reached up with his fingers slithering toward Barry's moistened lips. He touched the pads of his fingers there and Barry licked them like he was desperate for another taste of Len, willing to do anything, anything, if it meant he'd finally be touched. Len breached the entrance of Barry's mouth with his fingers as he had his cock, letting Barry suck them, saturate them, getting them ready for the other forms of torture Len had planned.
"Please…" Barry said when Len pulled his fingers free again.
"You haven't said stop," Len watched Barry's face closely as he tucked himself back down between his legs. "Do you want me to stop?"
Barry shook his head.
"Then enjoy the ride, Barry. I know I will." He grinned as he drew his wet fingers low, parting Barry's underwear just enough with his other hand so he could slide a wet digit to the textured skin that stretched so eagerly for him.
Barry opened up smooth and easy at Len's first probing finger. He sighed, whimpered, and rocked his hips to pull Len in deeper. He was practically begging for it, but today they'd have to settle for long fingers and the promise of tomorrow.
"Someday soon, Barry…I'll take my time stretching you," Len said, probing languidly—a curve upward, a twirl around those smooth, inner walls. "Get you as wet as this…dripping and shaking, you want it so bad…before I slide in." He teased with the tip of the second finger, amazed at how effortlessly it too breached the entrance and opened Barry up.
Another vibration threatened to wrack through him, but Barry fought it down. He panted, moaned as Len scissored his fingers and pressed in past the last knuckle. "You can…do that now," he said, one foot curling around to press cold skin to Len's hip, urging him to climb up Barry's body and replace those fingers with something better. "Please."
Len laughed shakily at the request, because…he couldn't deny how much he wanted that. "Be smart, kid. Next time. I promise." Though next time couldn't come soon enough—and neither could Len.
Finally, he pulled his fingers free and sat up, not wanting to remove the kid's underwear fully yet, not when he could keep the tease going. He pushed the fabric up one leg as far as it would go, and pulled Barry out from beneath, half trapped by fabric, but finally meeting the open air.
Len's hands were warm now, and the one still wet from stretching Barry smoothed feather light up Barry's naked length into the wetness—up, almost to his head, but then down again, drawing out the relief Barry craved. Barry thrust up into him, wanting to be touched at his tip where the nerves were most concentrated.
"Please…please…"
"Well…I suppose I can take pity on you," Len said, and wrapped his hand tight, stroking up all the way until his thumb ran hot through the wetness at Barry's slit.
"Yes!" Barry's moan filled the room, floor to ceiling with its echo.
Len pressed down into him without waiting, because he could barely contain himself either now. Their likewise heated skin connected, both wet, hard and pulsing. Len stretched his fingers to encompass them both, stroking them together with slow, purposeful thrusts of his hips moving in time with his hand.
Barry matched his pace, gibberish falling from his lips, which mostly amounted to a string of, "Yes…fuck…Snart…"
Len didn't usually like when his enemies begged. He preferred compromise and a clean solution, but this was entirely different. Len was close, knew he couldn't hold back much longer, so he picked up the pace, and after a few more fervent thrusts, Barry's voice crescendoed and he came with a hot spurt over Len's hand.
Len grinned. "Oh, Barry…you broke the rules," he breathed down at him.
The long line of Barry's neck exposed as he dropped his head back with the sweet liberation of finally being able to come. He rocked his hips harder as Len continued to thrust against him, and looked at Len with an expression of hunger than made Len quiver. "Then punish me for it," he said, curling his legs up around Len's waist.
"Kid…" Len huffed out a laugh. He wouldn't be able to resist if Barry kept pushing, but he shouldn't…he shouldn't.
Barry twisted his hips to the side, disrupting Len's rhythm. Len raised an eyebrow at him. "Get me out of these cuffs," Barry said firmly, "and I can be to and back from a corner store in less than thirty seconds."
Len stilled, right on the brink. Was Barry serious? "You don't have any money. Or clothes."
"I can wear your clothes," Barry said, "and…and pay them back later!"
Len gaped. Barry was willing to steal condoms just so Len could fuck him. "Yeah?" he prompted, half in disbelief.
"Yeah," Barry nodded eagerly.
It was near torture now to hold off, but the prospect was too tempting to say no. Len pulled away, wiped his hand of Barry's release on the sheets, and hobbled off the bed with a teeter in his step. He was pulsing hot, he was so close, but he could wait…he could wait.
He dug the key out of his parka and freed Barry as swiftly as he could. As soon as the cuffs clanked open, Barry was gone with a flash of yellow lightning. For a second, he stood behind Len, wearing Len's sweater, pants, and boots, then with a ravenous glance down Len's body, he vanished.
Len fell back onto the bed to count the seconds. He wondered if Barry really could manage the theft in less than thirty seconds.
As it turned out, he did it in fifteen.
Len laid where Barry had been, slowly stroking himself to stay hard without tumbling over the edge, when a crack of lightning signaled Barry's return. He climbed on top of Len still decked out in all black, holding a box of Trojans and a small bottle of lube. He dove for Len's lips and tongue while simultaneously getting a condom ready.
"You're still…wearing my clothes," Len puffed against his lips, hands pawing up at his own sweater, which was far hotter than it had any right to be.
Another crack of lightning left Len barely alone long enough to notice Barry had gone anywhere, other than the sudden weight of skin against him instead of fabric. Barry tossed the box aside as he held up a condom already unwrapped. "How do you want me?"
Fuck. This was worth any consequences that came afterward. "The way we were," Len said, feeling how hard Barry was again, knowing he'd been debauched and wet and stretched open while out in public, performing a theft. "Wanna see you nice and clear."
They kissed, all tongues and teeth, and slowly, instead of using Barry's powers to assist, they shifted until Barry was the one on his back. Their skin collided at every angle, making it difficult to refrain from rutting forward.
Len pulled up, and Barry rolled the condom onto him with frantic fingers. He flailed to grab the lube next, but Len plucked it up first, coating himself generously and dripping the silken substance onto Barry's stomach. He chucked the bottle when he was done and dove forward to lift one of Barry's legs up higher, giving him an easier angle to sheath himself now that Barry's underwear had been discarded. Barry felt so hot when Len pressed in at the tip.
Barry groaned, hands reaching back to grip the bedframe, mimicking how he'd been cuffed. Len sank inside so slickly, so easily, despite the tightness surrounding him. Barry wrapped his other leg around Len's waist to pull him closer, and when Len sank in hilt-deep, Barry shivered—vibrated around him.
"Fuck," they both moaned, both gasped.
"S-Sorry…" Barry panted.
Len shook his head. "Don't hold back, kid. I won't."
Len pulled out, almost all the way, almost freeing the lip of his head before he thrust back in. He wouldn't last long like this, he couldn't, not after being inside The Flash, fucking him while the kid clung to the frame behind his head knuckle-white and moaned as though he'd never had it so good.
Len rocked steadier, harder, faster, and with every thrust in, Barry buzzed with a release of his powers like some human vibrator that Len would have thought could only exist in fantasies. He looked down at Barry, lips parted, hazel eyes darkened with lust, used and flush and gorgeous, and imagined every way he wanted him in the future.
The mere thought of getting to do this again made Len grunt and thrust harder. "Fuck, Barry…I wanna know what you'd look like on your knees. What you'd look like riding me." That image made Len certain that he'd come any second.
"I can…do that," Barry said, and suddenly the world spun.
In seconds, Len was on his back, Barry on top of him, riding Len like he couldn't get enough, all his muscles taut and glistening from sweat. Len relaxed into the mattress, too enamored to complain, and let Barry control the pace, which, as should come as no surprise, was lightning fast and filled with vibrations.
After only a few thrusts, Len felt as though every nerve in his body alighted and he was coming, feeling it all the way down into his fingers and toes. He gasped for breath he wasn't sure he could ever catch again with this insatiable kid atop him.
And Barry was insatiable, because he groaned in disappointment that Len had finished when he still hadn't, not a second time, not yet. His length bobbed hard and swollen against Len's stomach as he continued to rock against him.
"More…fuck…just a little more…"
Len surged up with the last of his strength, tossing Barry back as they disconnected and getting his face between those gorgeous thighs again. "I'll give you more," he growled. Len would not be outdone or leave Barry unsatisfied even if the kid was half his age and gifted with superpowers.
He sucked Barry in as deep as he could, all the way in, throat relaxed and open until he swallowed the kid down and made him cry out in pleased surprise.
"Yes…yes…" Barry was so wonderfully vocal.
Len hollowed his cheeks, sucked and sucked, until Barry's hips stuttered upward like before, another shiver wracking through him that buzzed Len's throat and lips. It was incomparable, and Len couldn't wait to feel it again.
He licked his lips as he pulled off of Barry, because that…that was going to be tough to beat.
Barry was dead. Dead and in Heaven—or some very kinky part of Hell.
He collapsed back with his head at the foot of the bed. Snart rolled away to lay beside him, slowly peeling off the condom. He dropped it—Barry could only assume—into a trash bin over the side of the bed, or maybe just on top of the box that had been tossed there. Both of them were breathless, trembling and sticky.
"That…was amazing," Barry said, reaching up to run his hand through dampened hair, sticking it up in every which direction. He almost wished there was a mirror above the bed so he could see how thoroughly fucked he must look.
At least he didn't need a mirror to see Snart, who was seriously like some model out of an Abercrombie ad—aside from the scars. But they weren't so bad. It was just puckered skin, even sexy in its own right.
Barry ran his tongue over his lips as he cast his gaze over Snart's body. Snart had the smuggest grin on his face, and he'd earned it.
"Best sex I've ever had," Barry said, "like…I didn't even think sex could be that good outside of porn."
Snart burst into an easy laugh, which wow, sounded so much better than a derisive chuckle. "How old are you again?"
"Twenty-five, shut up." Barry bucked into his shoulder. "So, umm…" As his pulse began to steady, he was reminded that he'd been kidnapped and tied up by a career criminal, and there was no way this wouldn't end badly someday. And yet… "This can be part of our new arrangement?" he blinked at Snart hopefully.
"Separate arrangement," Snart said.
"Which means…?"
Snart propped himself up onto his side to face Barry. His eyes were strikingly blue only inches from Barry's face. "The rest of the deal stands on its own. As for this, as long as you want it, you can have it. The moment you don't, we end it. Simple."
It sounded simple, but it wouldn't be. It couldn't be. Still, it could be so good for a while.
"I can go for that," Barry said. He could also go for round two—or was it three for him now? But first he needed food. "Are there any other clothes in this place? Coz as amazing as that was, you still kidnapped me. You at least owe me dinner. I'm starving." He didn't know how long he'd been out before he woke up on that bed, and he'd just used up a significant amount of energy, especially zipping to the store and back.
Snart raised an eyebrow at him. "You want me to feed you?"
Barry reached forward and touched a hand to Snart's chest, to the varied scars there, and slowly dragged his hand downward. He hadn't really gotten to touch Snart in return yet. "Tell ya what, you pay for dinner, I'll go back and pay for the condoms. And maybe…I stay missing in action for another hour. Deal?"
Snart eyed Barry like he was the best thing he'd ever stolen. "Deal."
THE END