1.
To begin with, doing it in the Foundry was probably not the best idea.
But hell if Barry could wait any longer for Oliver's questing hands to strip him off of his clothes. Because there was something hot in those calloused palms skimming against his skin, experienced in both handling the taut string of the mechanical bow and at the same time knew how to work on Barry's taut muscles and kneading him in the right places.
Then there was the thought of easily phasing out of clothes and he's a speedster, for goodness sake, that he could have transported them both in Oliver's apartment.
But of course, the idea of speeding to the privacy of their bedroom was thrown out of the window when Oliver attacked Barry's sensitive spot on the neck, trailing kisses down to his collarbones and sucking on the place that sends delicious shiver down his back, and when the older man went lower, breathing over Barry's left nipple after giving it a few kitten licks, Barry realized that his death wouldn't be at the hands of any meta or the Green Arrow's arrows but rather on Oliver's tongue.
Barry let out a choked moan, bringing Oliver over him when he was promptly slammed down on top of the working table and whoever works on that table, Barry's sincerest apologies go to them since he couldn't give a damn and the only thing he could think of was if he couldn't get Oliver inside him or his large hand wrapped around his cock, somebody would be sleeping on the couch tonight and it wouldn't be Barry.
He got Oliver practically ripping his jeans and Barry was close to singing praises to the deity who decided to keep any of the Team Arrow from their headquarters. Or to the deity who made it possible to have Oliver Queen as his talented lover who he was at the mercy of.
Barry almost exploded when Oliver's sizable and incredibly hard length touched his, the simulation was even yet to begin and there was already heat on his stomach waiting to be released, and it could have been at the barest of touch on his manhood.
Keywords: could have been.
There was a gasp that went unnoticed if not for the clatter of tools dropped on the floor, startling the both of them. Despite the fact that Oliver was wide enough to obscure Barry's compromising position and nakedness waist down, it wasn't hard for geniuses to figure out what was going on.
Particularly if said geniuses were Felicity and Curtis.
"Oh my God," came Felicity's unsurprising reaction that Barry couldn't help but mutter the same line as well. "Is that my keyboard you're on top of?"
Barry's redness of the face was now due to embarrassment. And it was ridiculous that it wasn't Oliver doing so when it was his pants pulled down and giving them a view of his meaty ass (though maybe it was that there was nothing there that Felicity hadn't seen before). The older man has an unreadable expression that the speedster didn't bother to decipher, busy burying his face on his palms in shame as Felicity babbled on and on that Barry would help with the sanitation of her baby and dear Lord, I don't want to know what other things you did there.
Oliver cleared his throat, not turning from his position but craning his neck to address them over his shoulders. "If you'll give us a moment please?"
"Right." Felicity's high heels rang as she stalked off without complain (Oliver would be having words with her later).
Without looking back, Oliver, face as straight as he could muster, called out, "You too, Curtis."
"I was just…" Curtis trailed off, eyes going lower to Oliver's backside. He looked away sharply, catching himself. "Alright. I'm going now." He hastily went after Felicity, almost tripping on the screws he dropped.
Oliver and Barry remained still, both feeling the heavy atmosphere of awkwardness looming over them, the heated moment already escaped the two.
Barry drummed his fingers on Oliver's shoulder, with the latter looking far away and remaining quiet.
"No chance of continuing now, is there?"
Looking at their flaccid members, Barry got his answer.
2.
Barry looked up under long lashes, green eyes twinkling in amusement at the low animalistic growl that escaped Oliver. Fingers carded his hair, pulling his head closer with a little force that wasn't unwelcomed.
In return, Barry nudged the head of Oliver's cock against his throat and then stopping just there, grinning victoriously around the member in his mouth. Of course, Oliver never voiced out whenever he was frustrated. He was patient like that, allowing Barry to adjust in how large he was that sometimes the speedster would secretly make fun of him to see if he could take Oliver apart by taking his time, but then he would feel guilty afterwards and would reward Oliver by vibrating around him while riding him hard and fast. Taxing, but they both like it.
Barry suspected that Oliver knew whenever he felt like making fun—his expression not really hiding his intentions, clearly. Especially when Barry chuckled throatily, sending tremors in the process, at the sight of the Star City Mayor, head leaned back and was obviously struggling with self control, trying to avoid fucking into Barry's mouth roughly (when the latter wouldn't even complain if it were ever to happen).
"Barry," Oliver let out, with a hint of warning. His stare was saying to get on with it in which Barry answered by releasing the length from his mouth with a wet pop, stroking it stiffly and mouthing the heavy balls.
Barry was thinking he deserved this after the untimely interruption they never talked about after. He wrapped his lips around the hot tip of Oliver's cock and gave it a light suction, inching lower and lower in a painfully slow manner. Admittedly, there was something thrilling at the possibility of anybody walking in any minute.
And this time, Barry was prepared when the doors swung open.
"Mayor Queen." Barry heard Dinah's voice and another set of footsteps with her.
Rene frowned. "Was that a spark?"
"What spark?" Oliver asked back as if there was nothing out of ordinary.
"Oh, you know. Like some kind of lightning." He turned to Dinah for help, silently inquiring if she saw the same thing. She shrugged. "Never mind."
"SCPD brought in last night a person of interest. We found out he worked with Faust and Black Siren," Dinah informed Oliver. As she walked closer, the mayor composed himself, slightly shifting on his seat.
Oliver opened the file placed on his desk, eyes skimming over the papers of arrest without anything entering his mind properly aside from the thought of Barry doing a particularly pleasant move of laving his tongue on the underside of his cock.
"Are you alright?" Dinah asked, gesturing at his white knuckles.
Oliver smiled tightly and unclenched his closed fists. His foot intended to idly smacked Barry on the side but instead nudged a hard flesh that he guessed was Barry's groin. "Yes, of course. I…oh." With a shuddering breath, Oliver closed his eyes, keeping his climax at bay when he was suddenly engulfed with the heat of Barry's throat. And if Barry wouldn't stop deep-throating him, Oliver would lose it.
"Yes?" Dinah raised an eyebrow.
"Let Captain Lance interrogate this one. And Diggle. Diggle can follow up on this."
He wiggled his foot playfully, mildly jabbing at his lover's cock that had Barry groaning around him, not loud enough to be heard.
Or so he thought.
She coughed a bit, excusing herself and Rene who remained by the door until then.
Oliver confirmed it when he heard the exchange of there's another set of feet under the table and an incredulous what ringing in the otherwise empty hallway. It was followed by Rene's confused the mayor grew another pair of feet?
Barry's head peeked out between Oliver's legs. "Again?"
"Unfortunately for us, yes."
"Damn it."
3.
The third time they got interrupted, Barry was close to believing he was jinxed by Hazard.
Because, really, the back seat of the car should be private enough.
Nah. It really wasn't.
Thea—knocking insistently on the untinted car window while Barry was enthusiastically grinding down against Oliver—seemed to think so too.
"Knock knock," she said dryly, opening the unlocked car door, face unimpressed at the sight of her brother sprawled out and suit rumpled, on top of him was Barry beet red, aghast.
Thea threw a manila folder to Oliver's chest, bidding the couple to "enjoy" and then left with crossed arms.
Oliver wasn't amused at the turn of events this week.
"So lemme guess, it's not only us who caught you know who doing you know what?"
Oddly enough, the others immediately knew what Felicity was trying to say.
"In our case, I don't think Hoss knew that we knew," came Rene's unconcerned reply, only finding out what Dinah meant before a while ago. "I kinda get it, ya know. Maybe they don't get enough time together. I mean, Hoss is pretty much busy all the time with his kid and the city and keeping the lady agent from his back."
Thea snorted. "Doesn't mean he could plow Barry anywhere he likes."
"Are you saying Oliver doesn't have any sense of self control?" Felicity asked. "'Cause he's anything but."
"Who's to say Barry can't be—what's the term—insatiable?" Curtis blinked. "No, that sounds crass."
"He does have the refractory period thing, doesn't he?"
"That's some active sex life. No wonder they act like teenagers in heat."
There were hums of agreement.
"Does this mean almost everybody in the team has seen them in the act?"
They groaned.
4.
Thing was, Barry and Oliver thought they were cursed to have serious cases of blue balls for a month.
They have checked the following pointers on the list of "Not to get caught at the verge of having sex by any team mate and then turn cold fish when interrupted":
Do it in the bedroom. Geez.
And that was it.
(It was called a list of pointers for the flair of it. No other reasons.)
Then… surprise, surprise, no fornication happened.
But it wasn't something that Barry held over Oliver. Especially not when it was related to being the Green Arrow.
When the call from Diggle came in, Barry sent him away with a small smile, kissing him gently in the forehead for good luck and told him he would wait. And he meant it, but due to the meta hunting around Central (and also Star City now after he escaped the Speed Force) earlier that day, he fell asleep within an hour from exhaustion.
Everything was fine, Barry decided, as Oliver woke him with kisses before the latter prepared for another day at the city hall.
Though maybe next time the Flash could lend a hand to the Green Arrow to speed things up.
5.
The breaking point sort of made them feel sorry for themselves and there was also guilt for being inconsiderate.
They were in the couch—in a rather large couch, mind you—that could accommodate both of them, after watching some movies, William already went to sleep for an early morning weekend, when playful kisses turned heated and a rough and tumble happened.
It wasn't their favorite position, having not much room to move around, but they both needed this after these past weeks. Oliver inside him and giving him short and shallow thrusts that snapped home every single time to his prostrate. Barry's cock was sliding between their stomachs, the friction adding to pleasurable sensation. He moaned, possibly a little loud that Oliver's huge palm covered his lips, and it was hot despite not being in their occasional role-playing; Oliver not wanting him to be heard while he was nailing him at the living room. The thought of it all going straight to Barry's already excited cock.
At least they both get to achieve completion tonight, notwithstanding their uncomfortable current venue. But hey, beggars can't be choosers.
Barry's head rolled back in the added amount of force Oliver was driving into him with. He was close, and he figured his partner was also near given how fast and insistent Oliver was fucking him now. Barry reached up, met him in a sweet kiss and then parting his lips for the tongue asking for entrance. His legs squeezed the older man's waist, the balls of his feet settling down against the other's ass to push him in deeper, harder and—
The door of William's bedroom slid open, with William coming outside groggily, hair sticking out in odd places. The boy scratched his side, barely sparing them a glance when both Barry and Oliver stopped their activity and followed William with their eyes as the kid poured himself a glass of water from the kitchen. He paused right outside his bedroom, glass in hand and gulped half of its content. He regarded Barry and Oliver impassively as if not seeing them at all, murmuring them good night and then promptly went back to sleep.
"Do you think he knows what we're doing?" Barry dared ask, breaking the awkward silence as he felt first-hand Oliver softening inside. He was beginning to as well.
"I'm not sure. He's a smart kid. He'll put two and two together once he's awake." Oliver shifted to a sitting position, with Barry beside him. "I'm not really being the best example of a parent." Oliver sighed, wincing when he thought how Samantha must be rolling over in her grave at the moment. "Sorry."
"Hey, it's not me you should be apologizing to. I think we both owe William one." Barry nudged him. "That is, if we're still going to live after Raisa and Thea give us a piece of their mind."
Well, Barry wasn't wrong.
Come morning, they took the initiative to inform them by themselves, in Thea's case she was somewhat having the premonition of the situation, giving them both the eye. Raisa looked more scandalized but surprisingly understood and told Oliver that he had been worse long before, but advised to maybe keep it down around the boy, much to Barry's shame.
And if it was any consolation, William appeared to have no clue.
"I have a proposition," Barry told him, hands on his pocket. "And it's about…" he idly gestured with his hand. "This. Us."
"Let's hear it."
"The mayor is on leave?" Agent Watson repeated.
"For three days," Captain Lance supplied, sharing a look with Rene.
"That's very convenient since we're supposed to have our meeting today." She eyed them with her usual stare Quentin was starting to get used to. "Three days is also a perfect opportunity to conduct his vigilante duties."
"With how overworked the mayor is, he's due to some day off," Rene defended.
"Where exactly is this day off? I'm sure not at his home and watching baseball with his son."
"Well, no—"
"See?"
"Not with his son and certainly not at home," Quentin amended. "He's on a getaway with his boyfriend. At Coast City."
Agent Watson tilted her head in confusion. "My file on Mayor Oliver Queen doesn't mention a boyfriend." There was a hint of triumphant smirk on her lips, making Quentin and Rene go mute in realization.
Oh, crap.
THE END
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