"What do you mean there aren't any extra bunks?" Barry gaped at Rip Hunter as they stood in the narrow and frankly claustrophobic corridor of the space ship, with eight doors and only one extra at the very end, which he assumed was Rip's since it held an ambiance of 'this is the captain's room' compared to the others.
"Do you recall the number of seats on the bridge, Mr. Allen?" Rip said with an ever-present air of frustration. "Nine. Which is why you had to hang on to Mr. Palmer's chair and hope for the best for this excursion. And thus there are nine rooms, nine bunks only. So unless you're feeling up to getting a hotel somewhere, though I'm doubtful you have any funds hiding somewhere in that suit, you'll have to sleep on the bench in the mess hall, find somewhere else on the ship, or share a bunk. I'm sure someone would be willing to accommodate you."
They were not. Rip's attitude made it clear he wasn't offering when he gave Barry the suggestion of sharing with someone. Kendra and Carter hadn't reached a level of intimacy yet to warrant sharing their bunk, so each had their own, and Barry didn't know either of them well enough to ask to share with them. Same with Jax, nice as the kid was.
Sara was sweet for all her hard edges, but...a little terrifying too, and shied away from the idea when Barry asked her first given some of the anger management issues she was dealing with. Which definitely left Rory out, not that Barry would have asked. Asking Stein just seemed too weird when the man was like a second (well third) father figure. So Barry tried Ray.
"Sorry, Barry, there just isn't enough space."
"I take up like no space, Ray, look at me." He gestured to his lanky frame, that compared to Ray was pretty paltry, he could admit. The man was nearly 6′4″ and very broad of frame.
"Sorry, Barry, really, but I'm sure we have enough blankets for you to make the bench in the kitchen comfortable."
Barry hung his head in defeat when Ray practically slammed the door in his face. Everyone had already retired to their rooms. Barry was going to have to either eat his shame and knock on a few doors of those he didn't know as well, or give up and accept the narrow, metal bench in the mess hall.
"Left out in the cold, Scarlet?" a low, smug voice called from behind him.
No. Absolutely not. Barry hadn't even allowed himself to consider Snart, not when he had an embarrassingly large crush on the man. It would be inappropriate, not merely a...temptation.
He turned around slowly. Snart leaned in the doorway to his bunk, barefoot and shirtless, displaying an array of intricate tattoos that made Barry's stomach bottom out to see the expanse of muscle and revealed skin. His sleep pants looked soft and worn, in deep navy with silvery snowflakes.
Damn it.
"Do you have an extra pair of pajamas and a blanket, coz otherwise I'm fine," Barry said, shifting slightly away from Ray's door so he could back up down the hallway and escape the bunk area before Snart had any further opportunity to tease him.
"I do actually. And a big enough bunk for two. More or less." Snart eyed Barry up and down, and pressed back against his door, gesturing into his room.
Barry nearly tripped over his heels. "What? Really? Why would you…?" Barry had assumed if he had been foolish enough to ask Snart, the man would have flat out refused, or laughed in his face. Something was up. "It's not funny, okay, it's been a long day, and I just want somewhere to sleep. I didn't know there weren't any extra bunks on this thing when I signed up for this mission."
"Barry," Snart sighed with a roll of his head back against the door. "It's a valid offer. No mocking implied. Bed's not large but big enough. Gets cold in the mess hall, trust me. I don't bite." He smirked and flicked his eyes down Barry's body again. "Much."
Barry knew when he was being teased, but if Snart was honestly offering… "Whatever. I'm exhausted." He surged toward Snart to barrel into the room. "But if you try anything…"
"Such as?"
Barry wasn't really sure what he'd meant to say. He certainly didn't think Snart would try…anything like THAT. "Anything," he said lamely, and shouldered into the room.
To say the bunks were small was an understatement. This must be what submarine bunks were like, Barry thought. There were drawers built into the wall, a small chair and table, and a bed somewhere between a Twin and a Double that definitely meant he and Snart would be at threat of touching during the night.
"Bottom drawer has sleepwear," Snart said, padding toward the bed. "Wall or door?"
"Uh…either?"
"I'd prefer door then in case I need to get up during the night."
Barry resisted making a comment about Snart's age. The man had just offered up his room, his clothes, and his bed for the night, after all. "Sure. And…thanks."
Barry grabbed a T-shirt and some extra sleep pants, then excused himself to the bathroom down the corridor to change and use the facilities one last time. Snart was on the bed when he returned, reading, a pair of black glasses perched on his nose and…shit, shit, shit. Leonard Snart, barefoot, shirtless, covered in tattoos, reading something with a title in Russian, wearing reading glasses might be the singular hottest thing Barry had ever walked in on.
"You speak Russian?"
"And Spanish, Italian, and a trifling bit of French. Pays in my business to speak more than one language, kid."
Not for the first time Barry wished he knew any language other than English—and some mild computer coding thanks to Cisco. And several Spanish swearwords thanks to Cisco too. "Oh," Barry said, unable to think of anything else.
He folded his Flash suit on top of the table, and headed for the bed. Snart set the book on a small nightstand beside him, removed his glasses to set them there as well, and slid over so Barry could climb around to the wall side.
"Uhh…" Barry mumbled, stopping as he looked up at the still bright light above his head.
"It's a space ship, Barry," Snart said. "Lights!" he called a little louder. "Off."
The lights immediately blinked out, leaving them in pitch blackness. Thankfully, Barry was at the edge of the bed, and able to feel the mattress. He climbed up onto it and kept to the wall as he crawled in, without touching Snart even once. He gingerly slipped under the covers, and felt Snart do the same. Barry pressed himself to the wall as tight as he could to avoid feeling the other man's skin. He could not get a boner while sharing a bed this small; Snart would notice.
"Relax, kid. It's just a bed. Just sleep."
"I-I know. But…"
"But what?"
In the dark, Barry couldn't see Snart's smirk, but he could hear it. He felt like an idiot, especially as the next words left him without his permission. "What if our feet touch?"
A pause. Barry felt his face heat up, beet red in the blackness, expecting Snart to laugh at him, and pulled the covers up to his neck so he could hide his entire face if need be.
He felt Snart settle more comfortably into the bed. "If our feet touch, we fuck. Obviously." The deadpan of his voice only made it worse.
Prick. Now all Barry could think about was fucking Leonard Snart. He was never getting to sleep at this rate.
Silence descended. Snart huffed at one point, some combination of disbelief and amusement, then rolled over away from Barry. It helped leave a little extra space between them at least.
Barry lay on his back, covers up to his chin like a child, wondering what would happen if he…purposely…moved his feet to touch Snart's. Which was juvenile and stupid, but he just…wondered. After all, the man had basically proven him right by joining up with Rip's crew. There was good in Snart. Barry wouldn't mind being some of the good in Snart too…
He was such a nerd.
Snart's breathing evened out before long, easily, like he never had trouble falling asleep—or had had to practice sleeping in the worst conditions in order to get any sleep at all—leaving Barry to his thoughts. The man produced a surprising amount of body heat. The covers were cozy too. Didn't seem standard issue, like something Rip would have just had. Snart must have brought his own bedding. Or stolen it. More likely.
Barry breathed deeply, forcing himself to relax. The next thing he knew he was waking up, sometime much later in the night, to Snart getting back into bed—after a trip to the bathroom, no doubt. Barry was half asleep; he couldn't be blamed for his actions. Because as soon as Snart was under the covers again, Barry snuggled against him like hugging a teddy bear.
Realization hit him slowly, as he roused and realized he had his legs tangled with Snart's, arm thrown over the other man's chest, face pressed to his shoulder, with their bare feet…touching.
Barry woke up fully with a start.
"Our feet are touching," he said, which was definitely the stupidest thing that could have left his mouth considering Snart had tensed as soon as Barry started wrapping himself around the man.
"Seems so," Snart said, as if more curious than upset, but still understandably shocked.
"A lot more than our feet are touching."
"Yes. Well. You know what that means."
"U-Um…I…" Why wasn't Barry pulling away? He was clearly a masochist waiting for Snart to shove him against the wall.
"It means, Barry…that if you roll over on top of me right now, I will let you fuck me."
Barry's stomach plummeted to his toes. Was Snart joking? He had to be joking.
"Barry…" But his voice sounded gruff enough that Barry wasn't so sure the Rogue was being anything but honest.
Barry's brain jolted back to sane long enough to sputter, "W-We don't have any—"
"True. Guess we'll have to be creative instead."
Snart wasn't moving away, or pushing Barry away. He didn't sound mocking, or upset. Snart did not let people touch him casually. Barry had seen that proven on more than one occasion. People who touched Leonard Snart unbidden often learned to regret that decision. But here he was…encouraging Barry. If this was some setup or trick, Barry would never forgive the man.
Barry was hard already. He couldn't hide that. His erection pressed into Snart's thigh, while Barry continued clinging to his chest, their legs intertwined. It was hardly any effort at all to just…press forward.
Snart shifted, and Barry feared it had all been a tease after all, only for Snart to turn toward him so that their hips met. He rocked into Barry. Barry rocked back. They rocked together, and then…
Oh god, they should stop this. They should stop this now. Barry could feel the outline of Snart's cock hardening in his sleep pants. His brain promptly shut down—no one at home, check again in the morning, thank you.
A whimper left him as their dicks connected through the thin fabric.
"You like that…?" Snart whispered.
"Oh god…"
"You can share my bunk anytime, Scarlet, if it ends up like this."
If Barry was dreaming, this was the best wet dream of his life. "O-Okay, but…at some point, we are finding some lube and a condom, and we are going to fuck."
Snart's positively sinful laughter replied. "Yes, sir."
Their rocking increased—but no, it wasn't enough. Barry pulled away from Snart, so he could roll over on top of the man instead. He felt Snart move beneath them, closer to the center of the bed, and began to grind wantonly on top of him. When Snart panted, and a moan bit out between his lips, the sleep pants definitely had to go.
Barry used his speed to accommodate and then…shit, he and Snart were skin to skin, even Barry's borrowed T-shirt tossed somewhere into the dark of the room, leaking precum and so wonderfully wet as they slid against each other. The room was hot, only maybe that was Barry's skin and the heat building between them.
Then, as Barry ran his hands up Snart's chest, feeling the uniquely smooth, tattooed skin, with occasional faint grooves around the designs, Snart's hand reached between them.
"F-Fuck…"
Captain Cold was gripping Barry's cock alongside his own, pumping them together as their hips rocked.
"Yeah…oh god…don't stop…"
Snart's grip and speed increased. With eyes now more adjusted to the total darkness, Barry could make out the outline of Snart beneath him, eyes heavy lidded, mouth open, chest muscles tight.
"Lights…" Barry gasped, loud as he dared. "On."
The room erupted in brightness, making Barry flinch and grimace and close his eyes, but when he opened them again, even though Snart looked equally put out by this development, their gazes soon locked and all was forgiven.
Snart's beautiful baby blues devoured Barry as he looked at him, up and down his body, and between them at their connected hips. He licked his lips with a slow swipe of his tongue.
Barry leaned forward and scraped his nails down Snart's beautifully decorated chest because, wow, this man was gorgeous, and instead of laughing at him, he'd egged Barry on. Snart wanted him too. Barry didn't even care if this was a bad idea.
It was definitely a bad idea.
"You know what I'm thinking…?" Snart said, breathless, small smirk on his lips, as they rocked closer and closer to completion.
"What?" Barry asked before breaking off in a low moan.
"How amazing it would be if you were riding me right now."
Barry moaned louder.
"Or fucking me into the mattress. I'm up for either. Both."
"Both, definitely both," Barry nodded. Then pictured it. Snart inside him. Him inside Snart. And before he'd finished imagining those scenarios, he was coming with an arch of his neck and buck upwards.
Barry collapsed forward, bracing himself on Snart's chest. Snart bucked up harder, jerking himself along with Barry's still hard cock and the mess Barry had left behind until he came too, with a sigh of deep satisfaction and relief.
They panted, Barry's hands on Snart's chest, propping him up, with Snart's hand still on their dicks, until Barry said, "So, um…do you have any…"
"Towel…middle drawer."
Barry nodded. He was almost too tired to super speed through it, but he really wanted to get back to sleep now. He soon had them wiped clean, and the towel bunched in the corner for however they laundered things on this ship later.
Still panting heavily, Barry settled into his side of the bed and pulled the covers over their naked bodies. He was surprised but not unpleasantly so when Snart reached over and tugged him against his side, close, while tangling their legs together again.
"Good thing our feet touched," he said.
Barry snickered, and finally broke out into a full laugh. Snart joined him. Anything else could wait until morning.
"Lights. Off."
The clang of someone knocking on metal roused Barry in the morning. Snart stirred beside him. This time it was the Rogue clinging to Barry's chest, head on his shoulder, shins rubbing together as he burrowed in closer to Barry—
"Snart, you awake? We can't find Barr—oh!"
Barry jolted to alertness as Ray barged into the room, having thrown the door open. Snart stirred further but didn't extricate himself from holding Barry as he glared over at the intrusion.
"I see I made the right call saying no if you're that much of a snug…" Ray trailed and the bright smile that had been on his face faded as he spotted the T-shirt and two pairs of sleep pants scattered on the floor, realizing that teasing Barry about being a snuggler in his sleep wasn't an accurate description of the situation. "Oh my…"
"Mr. Palmer, did you—ah!" Rip appeared in the doorway next to Ray. "Right. You're welcome, I suppose. Should have seen that one coming. If you'll rouse yourselves, gentlemen, we do have business to attend to." He nodded and disappeared as quickly as he had peeked his head in.
Barry was not fully awake enough to handle this. What did Rip mean exactly by—
"Cough up the cash, Palmer. Told ya." Rory was next—of course he was, holding out one of his meaty palms toward Ray, as his wild gaze took in the room. "Nice."
Barry would have hoped Rory was referring to the décor instead of his friend having gotten laid last night, if the room had any…décor.
This finally got Snart to sit up, glaring harder at the door as Ray took out his wallet. "When did you have time to make a bet about this?"
"Rooftop that first night, whadda ya think?" Rory accepted the twenty Ray handed him and shoved it into his pocket.
Ray shrugged apologetically at Barry. At least he'd assumed Barry wouldn't get talked into his villain's bed—not that Snart had done much convincing or wooing; Barry had landed himself in this position just fine on his own.
"Nice," Sara peeked in around Mick. "You boys going to get up any time soon?"
"Do you mind?" Snart ground out, since Ray, Rory, and Sara, while blocking the view into the hallway from anyone else sneaking a peek, were in no way moving to give them privacy.
Sara snickered. Mick shrugged.
Ray, at least, came to his senses. "Right. Sorry. I'll just…close this." He did so, barring anyone else from getting a look, though Barry was certain he heard Jax down the hall.
"You found Flash where?!"
Brilliant. Just the kind of impression Barry wanted to make on the next generation.
He flopped back on his pillow. He wondered for a moment if Snart was the throw the extra pillow on the floor and sleep in the middle of the bed type, or if he would have doubled the pillows on top of each other if Barry hadn't been there. Better to think about that than this disaster of a morning after.
Snart lay down as well, a semi-growl of frustration leaving him. Barry felt himself itching to get up and escape the awkwardness of the situation. Which would only be worse once he had to face everyone outside.
"Five more minutes, just to spite them," Snart said, surprising Barry by reaching over and pulling their bodies close again, to snuggle, and doze, and wow, Snart was warm, his skin just radiating heat Barry wouldn't have expected from Captain Cold. It eased his nerves as he let the tension fall from his body, and snuggled against Snart in return.
"Yeah…I like that plan."
"Ignore them."
"Easier said than done."
"So own it. Can't tease you about something you embrace. Unless of course…you regret last night."
Barry looked at Snart, but his eyes stared forward at the wall instead of at Barry, avoiding him—tentative and anxious, Barry could tell, however subtle the signs. So Barry snuggled in deeper. "Not even a little."
Snart's own tension eased; Barry hadn't noticed how much he'd been holding onto. "Good."
THE END