After that chilling PSA, Zoom lets a few minutes go by without speaking, presumably prolonging his enjoyment of the mind-numbing fear emanating from Barry and Iris.

"I've thought about your request, Barry," Zoom announces, and in a blurry few seconds, Iris is slumped over in the cage. Before Barry can fully register, Zoom waves the chloroformed cloth in front of his face. "I've decided to oblige. In return, you answer a few questions."

Realizing that Zoom is mockingly waiting for his assent, Barry nods quickly. "What … what do you want to know?"

"When you put all the pieces together and discovered that I was not only impersonating Jay Garrick but was, in fact, also Zoom, how did your colleagues react?"

Barry's bewilderment is clear even as he answers, "They … didn't believe me at first."

"Captain Singh was bragging so much about how much cross-referenced data CCPD had collected on me as evidence. What changed their minds?"

Barry starts to glance at Iris but stops himself. Len finds himself praying that Barry says anything other than what he says next. "I proved it." Too late, Barry realizes the responsibility he's assigned to his own perseverance and shuts up.

"I see. As fast as I am, I can't be everywhere at once, now can I? You were clever enough to exploit that fact. In trying to do the impossible, I gave myself away."

Barry doesn't answer.

"Then, I suppose, you became practically a superhero to everyone in the precinct."

Barry remains silent.

"Barry." Zoom doesn't raise his voice, but the menace is unmistakable.

Barry jumps a little at the warning sign. "No—no."

"Oh? Why not?"

"People said … they … they thought I'd just been lucky to come across the theory and that … that Joe's team really put the picture together."

"But that's not the case, is it." Zoom doesn't bother to make the sentence a question. "Thank you for the clarifications, Barry."

The next few minutes are only a small precursor for what's going to happen, Len knows, but knowledge of a worse future doesn't alleviate the present much.

"I'm going to tell you in very clear terms what I want you to do next," Zoom says, crouching in front of Barry. "All right?"

Barry's made so nervous by Zoom's sudden proximity that he almost foregoes a response until Zoom snaps his black-gloved fingers. "… ye-yes."

Sighing, Zoom manhandles Barry into a straighter posture. "Don't slouch. Remember, everyone at the CCPD is watching. You don't want to put on a bad performance."

"A bad-what?" Barry might not have any idea, but Len can see from the small but careful adjustments Zoom's making to the boy's body that he intends to maximize the frontal view.

"Stay," Zoom instructs as he examines the results with a critical eye before standing up. "Here's the important part: unzip your pants, take out your cock, and masturbate in front of your coworkers."

Barry has to hear the words, but it's apparent he isn't following as he continues to stare up at Zoom, who takes out a cell phone and sets an alarm.

"You have ten minutes. If you don't come during that time, I'll wake up Miss West and give her the best seat in the house to see everything I'm going to do to you."

Barry can't seem to break his blank stare. Zoom shows his annoyance with Barry's slow reaction by placing a heavy, booted foot on Barry's crotch and applying pressure, eliciting an agonized cry as Barry doubles over. "Nine and a half minutes."

Within the first minute that Barry tries to comply with Zoom's command, it's obvious he's only going to chafe himself. His hand's shaking so much he can't even get a firm grip. Zoom's persistent comments don't help.

"I used to have stage fright," Zoom says in a conversational tone. "I got over it, though. Now I love attention." He spreads his arms as though accepting a standing ovation. "You just have to suffer the critics. Or get rid of them, in my case."

Eight minutes.

It's hopeless. Right here and now, Barry wouldn't be able to bring himself to climax if he were watching live porn. Instead, he's facing the cold gleam of a device that's capturing every move he makes for the benefit of the people watching.

"Looks like he could use a hand." The words come out casually but Len can hear the strain underlying the easy line because, fuck it all, *he's* saying it.

Eyes widening, Barry twists to see this new threat from the dim corners of the room. Clearly, he hadn't even realized there was another person here besides Zoom and he and Iris.

Zoom levels his freakishly mild gaze at him. "Are you offering, Snart? That's awfully nice of you."

Len lets a thread of scorn enter his voice. "Honestly, it's too painful to watch. I've seen sexier high school biology dissections."

In response Barry curls in on himself, hiding his face in his arms. Len wants to vomit.

Zoom considers Len's suggestion with more thoughtfulness than necessary, simply to draw out the fear and tension.

Len is reasonably sure Zoom will agree. Adding Len into the mix will add an unexpected dimension to a scenario Zoom has already set in place, but the monster seems to enjoy "creative" suggestions from his victims, if Barry's own dismal situation is anything to go by.

Len jangles the manacles attaching his hands to the wall. "I'll need a hand to give him one," he points out. God. Was he doing the right thing? Wasn't he just prolonging the inevitable? There's a small gust of wind … and he's free, Zoom standing in the middle of the room again as if he'd never moved.

Rubbing his sore wrists, Len slowly gets to his feet, trying to think of a way not to further spook Barry into unsalvageable impotence. He's aware, though, that Barry will only see his measured stride as the ominous approach of a predator. As Len is about to enter the lighted area of the room, he pauses because the next step will take him into view of the camera and add "rapist" to his list of official crimes.

Len takes pride in what he does for a living; that his work is illegal only makes success more thrilling. He's killed before, sometimes at point-blank range so that blood and other bits splatter his face, and forgets the slight queasiness by the next morning. At times, he's even engaged in some of the harsher methods of interrogation, but he's done so with purpose and then dispatched the victim quickly.

In short, he doesn't feel inclined to apologize for past actions. Everyone he's deliberately killed has, in his mind at least, which is good enough or him, reason to die without accompanying pity, whether as remorseless murderers themselves or because he was acting in self-defense.

The past sexual encounters he's had have been brief, if fairly frequent, and only briefly satisfying. He prefers things that way because then they can each move on without complications. In his private life he only cares about Lisa and Mick. But he's never resorted to force to have his way with someone. There're some lines he's doesn't cross, as nonsensical as such ethics might sound when compared to snuffing out a person's life.

Len know he's hesitating too long. He takes the required step. And another. One more until he's looming, face in shadow, over Barry, who's trying to move away before remembering there's nowhere he can go and ends by falling back onto his elbows. Steeling himself, Len follows the boy downward.

The boy instinctively struggles as Len's warm and dry left hand closes firmly around his stubbornly soft genitals. Len has to hold him down by one shoulder, but fortunately for them both, Barry's arms tangle in his partially unzipped jacket so he can't get free, and he's too panicked to realize how easily he could slip out. They're practically nose-to-nose before Barry can focus enough to get a good look at Len. "Leonard Snart?" the kid breathes in disbelief. Len's taken aback for a moment before remembering that his face is plastered on the CCPD's priority list.

"Yeah," he confirms gruffly, adjusting his left hand's grip just a little so the tips of his fingers can tease at the sensitive spot behind the boy's cock. Might as well make use of Barry's distracted fanboy moment.

Barry squirms apprehensively under him. "Um … Mr. Snart—"

Len's a goddamn known criminal who, whatever his intentions and personal feelings, from all appearances is molesting—assaulting—a boy who looks like he could be carded at a bar if he gave off a particularly immature vibe that day. Len is not the friendly neighbor with two kids at the local high school, a middle-class job he'll never quit, and a housewife addicted to daytime soap operas.

At the moment, he can't think of how this situation could be worse. Touching Barry, who's so obviously afraid that his green eyes have gone glassy and whose skin is clammy with cold sweat, is like trying to make out with a mannequin in a department store that has the air conditioner blasting away.

Six minutes.

"Just Len," he tells Barry, methodically using his elbows to urge the boy's thighs apart so that he can kneel more comfortably between them.

"M—Len … Len, I haven't …" Barry starts to pant but keeps talking as if he doesn't realize his body's reaction to Len's hold on him. "… ever … uh … uh …" His head falls back to loll heavily on his neck, but he's still stuttering admissions Len would rather not have known. "I … don't … what … uh … uh …"

Len hurries his work along, pulling at Barry's cock in long, tight strokes until the delicate flesh hardens. With his now freed right hand Len pushes the sweater under the jacket up, baring a slim, flat chest and small nipples flushed and taut from the sudden cold.

Len's been concentrating so deeply on fighting down his nausea at violating this innocent boy that he just now notices that Barry's gaze is desperately fixated on him, as if Len's the only anchor he has to stop himself from flying apart.

"Close your eyes," Len instructs, inserting a soothing note into his voice. It might help Barry too, to forget his surroundings, but Len has to admit the command is selfish. Len isn't sure he can keep going if he has to look the boy in the face.

Barry obeys.

Four minutes.

Shit. The boy gets close, so close, and then loses the erection as he startles every several seconds, remembering where he is, who's watching, and what's happening to him.

Three minutes.

Now Barry can hear the seconds ticking away, and the knowledge only fuels his anxiety, rendering Len's ministrations useless. Despair over his hopeless situation is winning over physical arousal.

Len isn't feeling optimistic himself. By this point, his very willing sex partner would have reciprocated enthusiastically, and they'd be enjoying mutual pleasure.

Len's next move will either cause the boy to wilt entirely or climax. There's no in-between. He flattens his lower body onto Barry's so that their crotches are aligned and grinds down with his hips. Barry's eyes snap open at the first motion, and immediately roll back to show the whites at the second. A few more seconds pass and Len's pausing to find a better angle before Barry says in a broken whisper, "Uhh … uh … please, Len … wait ... uh ... don't ..."

There's no time to listen, much less wait. Barry's starting to think too much again, and Len has to put a stop to that. In response to Barry's protests, Len pulls him forward with a hand on the back of Barry's neck and presses his lips hard to the boy's gasping mouth.

Two minutes forty-five seconds.

Len makes the terrible parody of a kiss as filthy as possible, taking advantage of Barry's parted lips to push his tongue inside and take control, forcing him to stay still with a grip on one shoulder and his other hand quickly shifting between the boy's exposed nipples and rapidly stiffening cock.

Barry's flailing hands, not knowing where to go, settle on Len's biceps and squeeze to the point of pain, disingenuously tugging him back when Len puts an inch of distance between them. They have to breathe. Barry's near hyperventilating already but he's whispering something repeatedly that Len doesn't have time to pay attention to.

A little more than a minute left. Almost there. Almost. Len mouths at Barry's throat, feeling the pulse jump erratically beneath his tongue. This close he hears what Barry's been saying over and over. "Please don't make me come. Please. Please … don't—"

It's an irrational request and would defeat the whole point of this farce. But Barry isn't thinking straight. Len will have to decide for him. Hands still occupied with the rest of Barry's body, Len bites down at the juncture between neck and shoulder.

That's it.

Despite his apprehension, Barry can't hold out against so many new sensations attacking at once. He comes with a sobbing whimper into Len's mouth. Len sighs inwardly in relief, holding the boy as he shakes violently and moans. A pretty flush has spread over his cheeks and his skin has regained human warmth.

Barry hasn't finished climaxing when the alarm rings.

If that had not been enough reminder, a bright light startles them both. It's Zoom, holding a phone a bit awkwardly in the air in front of him, its cameras lens glimmering.

"I just remembered to turn on the flash," Zoom explains. "I did have the lens zoomed in the entire time, though. The output ought to be in full HD resolution." He sounds irritated as he continues, "I should have gotten a smartphone with one of those 4K cameras."

Len curses bitterly under his breath as Barry goes white again and automatically tries to close his legs. Before he can stop himself, Len snarks, "Not too tech-savvy?"

Zoom is looking down at the phone screen, fiddling with the touch options. "Now, now. Don't be snippy. Ah. There we go." Even before Zoom turns the screen to them, the sound of rustling clothes and soft moans makes immediately apparent what he's showing them.

Len looks stoically at the video replaying what had just taken place. It can't be worse than seeing the horror-stricken humiliation he knows is on Barry's face.

"Goes by a little fast, doesn't it? Here, I'll slow it down." Zoom presses another button, and the close shot of Len tilting Barry's face up to kiss him shows Barry's pleasure-dazed expression, saliva trickling out of the corners of his mouth, transitions into another close shot of Len's hand fisting Barry's cock as it hardens in slow motion. "I just learned how to add these … transitions, right?"

Barry makes a choking sound.

Zoom grins boyishly. "I think I'm getting the hang of this tech stuff. Pretty cool effects, huh? For a beginner."

Len prepares himself to turn to Barry, wants to say something, anything, but Zoom gets to him first. Flipping through a slideshow, Zoom says, "Back to what I was saying. What's wrong with this picture?" He's stopped at an early point, when Len first tried to arouse Barry by fondling his balls. Inadvertently, Len had lifted the boy's genitals to give a clear shot of his tightly clenched anus if taken from a proper angle. "Besides the obvious—that you need to work on your seduction techniques, Barry. The virgin act is overdone."

It's too much. Barry staggers to his feet, tripping over his own pants as he tries to snatch the phone from Zoom. Zoom only laughs and in the next instant is behind Barry, holding both wrists in a vice-like grip that lifts the boy off the ground, as he tucks the phone into his belt.

"I'm waiting," Zoom says, his free hand snaking down the front of Barry's pants, still loosely open at the crotch. In a single tug it's down to his thighs. "So is everyone in the audience." Frantic, the boy tries to kick at Zoom or twist out of his hold, but quickly realizes that every move causes his pants to fall further down his legs. It's a little past his knees now. Barry stills, drawing in ragged breaths, beyond furious but recognizing his utter helplessness.

Zoom lifts Barry's swinging body higher to match his greater height and positions a knee to keep the boy's legs spread. Barry cringes as his own weight crushes his bare genitals against Zoom's muscled thigh before noticing that he's on full display for the camera on the wall. Again, his struggles only spread him wider. He's crying, body involuntarily jerking with the force of his sobs, and whatever Len does will make the situation worse.

But Len has to do something. He takes a chance. "You told him to get himself off," Len says flatly. "I did it for him."

Zoom turns to him, smiling with approval, before looking back on Barry with a severe eye. "Precisely. That was the deal. I held up my end and knocked out Miss West as we agreed." He inclines his head at the unconscious girl in the cage. "Gently, too. You, however …" Zoom shakes the boy a few times, as if to chastise him.

Barry's pants pool around his ankles. With his shirt twisted inside his jacket so that it rides up high on his chest and bunches under his arms, Barry's effectively naked from the neck down. He goes rigid in realization but somehow manages to speak. "I'm … I'm sorry," Barry stammers, looking sick to his stomach. "I'm sorry. I tried … I …"

"Not hard enough, it seems," Zoom remarks, with a little chuckle at his own joke. "But Snart doesn't seem to have the same problem."

Snart glances down and is genuinely surprised to see that he has an erection. It doesn't seem possible that his head has so disconnected from his body that one doesn't know what the other is doing. The last couple of minutes, when he'd held the boy as Barry clutched at him and shuddered through orgasm, had been more to comfort than offer anything else. That part hadn't been terrible. Near the end, Snart had closed his own eyes and concentrated on what would make Barry feel good, which was what he'd have done under ordinary conditions. The boy's unpracticed but honest response had engendered reciprocal enjoyment on Len's part.

"I'm disappointed, Barry. I thought you'd do better. But, we have to keep moving on or we won't finish everything I had planned for today's agenda." Zoom lets the boy's wrists fall to his sides but keeps Barry still dangling in the air with a crushing hold on his narrow hips. Surprised by the sudden release, Barry would have pitched forward if Zoom hadn't positioned his grip so that Barry would fall back against him. The boy shouts in surprise, but then quiets. Instead of struggling this time, Barry goes motionless except for the occasional full-body tremor. The brilliant green of his eyes is the only color in his ashen face.

Len doesn't know the reason for Barry's extreme reaction until Zoom demonstrates with an obscene upward thrust of his pelvis, using his grip on Barry's hips to rock him back and forth until the boy is simply bobbing helplessly midair. He thrusts a few more times and then tosses Barry in a sprawl onto the ground. Now that Barry's body isn't swaying in front of Zoom, Len can see that Zoom is sporting an enormous erection himself.

Standing up, Len forces his expression into impassivity, but his skin is crawling as Zoom says, "That show you two put on was … a bit PG-13 for my tastes. I like my entertainment a little more mature." Suddenly he's leaning on the cage containing Iris, who thankfully hasn't stirred. Barry starts to say something before Zoom holds up hand, looking between the boy and Len.

"That said, do I need to step in to address my concerns? Or do you think you can take care of it for me, Snart?" Zoom flicks a middle finger against the cage's bars, causing a metallic sound to ring out.

Len knows the "correct" answer but he can't bring himself to say it.

Malice dances in Zoom's eyes, distorting his handsome appearance. "You two seemed to be getting along so well. I thought you'd like to make a good first impression for Barry, rather than, say, his sixth or seventh, after I'm done with him."

Zoom makes a careless gesture, as unconcerned as though his huge cock isn't visibly engorged in his pants. "He's fucked either way."