Damn this kid could kiss.
No curbing his intentions, just pure boldness—insistent lips, a probing tongue, all making it clear as crystal that he longed for straying hands too. And I always did hate to disappoint a client.
A steady hand reached for the edge of my T-shirt before I could beat him to it, both of us down to our smallclothes, which was decent enough but could quickly be remedied. His long fingers felt warm sliding up my stomach, pushing the shirt along with it, while the slender digits of his other hand crawled into my waistband.
"Rough few weeks, huh?"
"You have no idea."
I'm sure the bourbon helped any reservations he might have had. Can't say I mind with his hands on me and his mouth sucking bruises along my throat. I thought he'd feel fragile under my touch, all angles and long limbs, but there's a hidden strength as if his blood pumps wild with electricity.
He whimpers the first time I touch him as intimately as he's touching me. I want his shirt off, mine off, every barrier gone, and Barry is right there with me, tearing articles of clothing away until we're kicking down the sheets to untangle the shorts from our ankles. All at once, he's bare and beautiful in my bed and I pause to take him in. Barry's eyes are black in the dark with lust and shadow, like a different man, like the one I saw pistol-whip a goon twice his size.
Pausing with me only long enough to heave a breath, Barry descends like a whirlwind. It's been ages since this much of someone else's skin touched me all at once.
I let my body writhe in time to the rhythm Barry sets and seek his mouth again. I'm trapped and at his whims when I expected to be the one leading. Barry is a storm, like rolling thunder, one hand at the back of my neck tight and demanding as we kiss, the other shoved down between us to find leverage.
Now I have to whimper, coz he's no blushing virgin, this kid, grip strong and sure with the both of us wrapped tight in those long fingers. It's too good to think about stopping, about breathing, about ever letting him out of my arms again.
The thunder cracks, and I'm on my back, Barry climbing on top of me, straddling my hips. No one gets me this vulnerable, but I'm pinned and not fighting to be free of it as he rides like no amount of friction could be enough.
I want more. I want connection, deep and shuddery, but there isn't time to sate this boy by slowing down.
His hips and hand on the both of us become a blur, my body thrumming in the wake of his energy, unable to do anything but let him bring us to the brink while I run my hands across his skin and up to his face, where I take hold and urge him down again.
Another crack of the storm brings our mouths together and I touch everywhere I can while he's this close. Breathy whines strike my ear and the side of my face when the kisses stop but our hips haven't. It's a mad rush to the finish line and I've never had a better opponent. Barry's free hand finds mine and laces our fingers tight, warm breath quaking against my shoulder to signal his end. It's a mindless stream of seconds later that I follow.
In the aftermath of sticky sweat, the sag of Barry's body doesn't stop our lips from lazily continuing what we started when he first asked if he was smoother with gents. Clearly, he is.
Barry tastes as good as he feels, and we lie like that long enough that I nearly fall asleep amid the mess before he giggles soft and sweet in my ear and pulls me to my feet. It's a quick wipe clean before we're back in bed, no longer caring about clothes or space in want of blissful oblivion until morning.
I'm a basket case and shoulda seen this coming, but I still don't expect the cold side of the bed when I wake up.
The clue should have been the seduction, but I don't get how screwed I am til I notice that the ring, the photos, and one of my guns is missing too.
Shit.
Seems my Scarlet was a speedster in disguise and got the drop on me quicker than I could counter. He wasn't some goon for hire from Thawne to throw me off the scent he himself sent me on, no, Barry was above board there, but he'd still used me when the time was right to get what he wanted.
He might have hoped to put Thawne behind bars at some point, but the game changed somewhere I didn't notice and now Barry wants Thawne dead.
I don't want a hitman, Mr. Snart.
No, he wants to pull the trigger himself.
How much is all this worth to ya?
Everything I have, Mr. Snart.
And he don't care if he ends up dead in the process.
"Sara?" I call her immediately, still getting dressed with one hand, hoping she'll have a lead.
"You're not gonna like this, Leonard."
"I was afraid you'd open with something like that."
"Seems something big went down at Iron Heights sometime between when Barry showed up to see us yesterday morning and when he decided to drop in on the take last night."
It always had to be something.
"Prison riot," she says. "His father's dead."
I pause long enough to share at the mess of my sheets. He hadn't let on for a second, lied right to my face. Apparently, that 'type' I had a weakness for made me weak in other ways.
"That would explain why he took my gun."
"He's gone?" Sara's voice rises in alarm.
"Shared my bourbon and my bed last night then ditched, with all the evidence and my extra piece." Running a hand down my face now that my slacks are zipped and shoes tied, I try to gauge how bad this is gonna be. "Kid's gonna get himself killed yet. Where was Thawne last seen?"
"He's not going directly after Thawne."
"What makes ya say that?"
"Coz I just passed the precinct and Barry was walking in with an envelope under his arm."
Damn. Time to finish working at a snail's pace was over. I grab my jacket, my keys, and my remaining gun. "That idiot's being bait. Turning in the evidence himself so Thawne shows up in person to take him out."
"Want me to wait so I can tail him?"
"Yes. But I already know where he's going next. Home. You stick with him. I'll meet you there. Please tell me you're carrying."
Sara huffs over the phone. "Am I ever not?"
I hang up without goodbye—Sara knows her job and how to stay invisible—and book it out the door barely remembering to grab my hat. My clothes are clean but my skin still smells like Barry, and I'm not so sure I mind. Kid conned me and I'm still rushing out to save him. Never said I had good judgment, but my word's my word, and my client can't pay me if he's dead.
I make it to Barry's apartment sooner than he or Sara could get there even if they left the precinct the moment I ended that call. The place has been turned over like my office, as expected. Not too much broken, a little glass from a few picture frames, but the rest is all intact. Of course Thawne will have eyes at the precinct following Barry all the way back here where no one will blink twice at the place getting ransacked again—before the inevitable gunshots ring out.
Taking my time to prepare myself for how this might go down, I take stock of the main room, bathroom, bedroom, even a little balcony—all in all, not a bad place for a…
I stop and realize I don't know what Barry does for a living, and just how careless I've been catches up to me. I had a good night, but I'd earned the cold bed in the morning. Maybe the kid had conned me for more than vengeance. I wonder about that for all of a second before I pick up one of those knocked over picture frames to find a handsome brunette man, lovely redheaded wife, and their green-eyed boy like a perfect mix between them.
Happy family—once. Barry couldn't have lied about it all, but he sped away just fine when it suited him, like all hustlers do. I should know; I'm one too.
I leave the balcony door open, even though we're on the third floor, lock up all the windows good and tight, and check for any weapons. The kitchen knives find handy hiding places on my person before I hear the approach of hesitant footsteps outside and a gentle push at the door. I wait in the kitchen, no need to pull my gun, and hold until those nervous steps get close enough for me to act.
I have Barry pressed against the wall, the gun he stole pinned beside him, within about sixteen seconds.
"Imagine if I was one of Thawne's boys looking to shoot that pretty face."
"Len." Barry's eyes widen further instead of softening when he sees me.
I don't let him go just yet. "Surprised you remember my name with the way you played me last night."
"It wasn't like that," he shakes his head, all the fight in him gone, not even trying to keep the gun I pry with ease from his fingers, "I didn't need to be with you like that to finish my plan."
"S'ppose ya didn't. Sure helped me sleep better though." Both my guns in my possession again, I draw back. Barry's tousled and harried, wearing yesterday's clothes. He still smells like me too.
"I wanted to be with you, Len," he says, so prettily too if it's a lie, but I wonder. I wonder… "I'm sorry, please believe me, but that monster's the reason both my parents are dead now. Prison isn't good enough for him, and there's still no guarantee it'll stick. I have to do this." His eyes fall on the gun I took like he might try to take it back, but he knows better.
"So you either end up dead today or in the Heights next, and dead within days anyway, coz trust me, kid," I step into his space until he presses himself against the wall this time, "on the inside, that's as long as you'd last."
"I don't care." He steels his expression and it's too cold for such a sweet kid, too hard and worn and tired—like me. "Thawne took everything I have. When they laughed me out of the precinct, it wasn't just as a victim wanting justice for my parents, it was as a forensic scientist."
A lab rat with a badge. No wonder he never told me what he did for a living.
"I'll never get another job in this city after I tried to go after Thawne. Turning in that evidence doesn't help either, not with saving my job, because even if Captain Singh is a good man, the rest of the officers are either terrified of being associated with me or they still think I'm a laughing stock. With Dad dead now too…I don't have anything left." The doe eyes drop to the floor, and I know this isn't a conman's game, just a scared kid in over his head who happened to need company last night after a loss.
Maybe I am getting soft.
"I know what it means to feel like that. So does Sara, truth be told. Maybe us undesirables with nothing left…" I trail off until those big green eyes meet mine like that first moment in my office, and all over again I'm trapped, "…we gotta stick together."
"Isn't that sweet?"
A new voice has me drawing my gun toward the door, and I should have known there was still some surprises Barry had lurking, coz he pulls the second one from my holster just as smoothly to do the same.
Thawne stands there in one of his prim, perfect suits, blond hair styled like a movie star, with a goon on either side of him—on the premises in person just like Barry wanted.
"So sweet, I might be sick all over this carpet," he sneers with a cruelty few can manage without effort.
The goons each have a gun drawn too, pointed at me and Barry respectively, so it's a proper standoff. If Thawne pulls a piece, we'll be outnumbered, but I know Sara's out there watching. Call or fold, this one is gonna be close no matter how it plays out.
"Thawne," I say with a genial smile, "so glad everyone's in the mood to talk."
TBC...