Len gets jealous when he gets out of the shower and catches his boyfriend on the phone with "Julian from work".
(This installment is rated M for cockwarming and anal entry)
Bzzz-bzzz. Bzzz-bzzz.
Barry, on his way to the bathroom, sees his phone vibrate across his desk. He's tempted to leave it, just pretend that he didn't hear it. This is Len's first night back, and he's dying to join his man in the shower. Len doesn't take long showers, but maybe, with the right persuasion, they could make-out under the spray till the water turns cold.
And then they could make out a little more, with Len's body pinning Barry to the tile, keeping him warm.
When the phone buzzes again, Barry checks the number, solely for the sake of morbid curiosity, and curses.
"Julian Albert! Fuck!" Now he has to answer it. Barry has only recently gotten on the man's good side. Captain has been riding their ass on a new case this week. All Barry needs is to foul up something important and turn Julian against him again. But Barry thought he had gotten everything ironed out. He doesn't see Julian calling him after hours unless Barry overlooked a major detail.
With a mournful glance at the bathroom door, he answers the call, putting it on speakerphone.
"Hey, Julian. What's up?" he says quickly, hoping to strike a hurried tone and move things along. "
"Hey, Allen," Julian answers. The man blows out a long sigh. Ugh. Barry cringes. Not a good sign. Barry can hear Julian's frustration. He foresees some venting, as well as a couple of longwinded explanations, and he immediately wishes he could go back in time and make the wiser decision not to answer the call. I could do that, he thinks. I'm The Flash. "Do you have the DNA results we re-ran yesterday? I'm trying to locate them. I thought I left them here on my desk, but I've torn through everything about a dozen times and nothing. I can only assume they got mixed up with the files I saw you take when you left."
"Uh … hold on." Barry can't see how he could have taken them. He was very thorough and specific about the files he took home. But if he doesn't look and it turns out he has them, he'll never live it down. Not from Julian or the Captain.
Barry hears the shower turn off, and he internally screams, Nooooo! But he reminds himself that he's protecting the sanctity of his daily working environment, which has finally returned to some semblance of normalcy. He spends roughly from eight a.m. to six p.m. with this man, some days longer. He doesn't need the stress of a hostile co-worker breathing down his neck every five seconds.
Barry's mind drifts to thoughts of Len in the shower, lathering up and probably getting hard - not on purpose, but as a consequence of being warm and relaxed and touching himself.
His attention shifts back to Julian rambling about the long three hours of overtime he's already spent searching for these files, and though Barry can definitely sympathize, he decides: Yeah, this is so not worth it.
"I don't see them," Barry says, scouring the piles on his desk, "but I'll keep looking. And if I come across them, I'll let you know ASAP."
"Thanks," Julian says, sounding suddenly distracted. "Hey, what are you up to tonight? You wanna go out for a round? My treat."
Barry smiles. And with that crisis averted, all is right in Barry's world for another day. "That sounds great, but I have to take a raincheck."
"What? You've got a hot date or something?" Julian teases. It's not the sarcastic jeering Barry had to endure when they first met, and Barry's glad about that. Julian doesn't have to be Barry's best friend, but his hating him less is a nice change.
"Actually, yeah, I do. My boyfriend's in town, so I'm gonna spend some time with him before has to hit the road again."
"Ah. A traveling man. That's rough."
"Yeah," Barry agrees wistfully. "It is."
"Well, have a good time then, mate, and I'll definitely be taking you up on that rain check as soon as you have an evening free."
"I'm looking forward to it. Bye."
"Bye now."
"So … who's the Brit?" Len asks, tightening the knot in his towel over his hip bone. He asks the question the second the phone call disconnects which leads Barry to wonder how much of it he heard.
"Which Brit?" Barry kids, shuffling through folders and thumbing through pages.
"The guy you were talking to on speakerphone," Len stresses as he walks up to Barry, less than amused.
Barry's eyes flick up. "Oh, him?" he asks, stringing Len along, pretending to concentrate on organizing his case files instead of the man standing in front of him wearing only a towel around his waist. It's not easy considering the fact that just about the only thing Barry has wanted to do since Len got home is tear off his clothes and get down on his knees for him. But butting heads with Len's jealous side is too much fun to resist. "That's Julian. From work."
"And how come this is the first time I'm hearing about Julian from work?"
"Because you've only been home a grand total of an hour. The subject didn't come up."
"Mm-hmm. And does Julian have a last name?"
"Not for you he doesn't," Barry sidesteps, knowing how dangerous giving Len information can be.
"And what is your relationship with this Julian?"
"Relationship?" Barry chuckles. "There's no relationship. He's, you know … he's, uh …" Barry shakes his head as he tries to find an appropriate place to start that'll get Len up to speed, all the while taunted by the water droplets clinging to Len's skin that Barry is dying to lick up. He notices one on Len's shoulder break free and roll down his front, stopping on his collarbone for a second before it continues on its way, and he subconsciously licks his lips. "It's complicated."
"Complicated, huh?" Len half-smiles as he watches Barry chew his lower lip, eyes looking everywhere but Len's face now. "I've had a few complicated acquaintances in my life. I don't go out drinking with them."
"Uh, I beg to differ. You forget, I've met Mick."
Len tilts his head in thought. "Touché. But, you know …" Len winds his fingers possessively into the belt loops of Barry's jeans "… you and I have a kind of complicated relationship, and we do way more than go out for drinks."
"We do?" Barry asks, sincerely confused. His eyes journey back to Len's face, eager to have his fill of him before he has to leave again – not tonight, thank God, but still much too soon. "Have a complicated relationship, I mean?"
"What?" Len starts slowly unbuttoning Barry's shirt. "You don't think so?"
"Well, I suppose" - Barry pops the buttons on his jeans in order to catch up - "but you always seemed so simple to me."
"And how's that?"
"I always thought of you like a stray that needed to come in from the cold …"
"A stray?" Len says with a snort.
"An angry, obnoxious stray," Barry specifies, "that likes to hump my leg a lot and mark my furniture."
"You know what else is getting cold?" Len asks, circling the conversation back around to get Barry back on task. He drops his towel with one hand as he undoes Barry's last button with his other. Barry feels Len's cock, without his towel plastering it to his body, spring hard against his leg. That, along with Len's effortless display of ambidextrousness, makes Barry shiver.
"Impressive." Barry mulls over Len's mischievous grin. "Maybe I can warm that up for you?"
"Or perhaps, I can warm you up … and you can hold me?"
Barry raises an eyebrow. That's an unusual request for Len, and Barry wonders if there's something that Len's not telling him. They swore no secrets, so he has to take Len at face value. But still … "You want to?"
Len shrugs. "Why not? It's been a while, hasn't it?"
"Yeah, it has."
"Let's go then." Len takes Barry's hand and walks him to the bedroom. It's a total turn-on that Len knows his way around Barry's apartment with his back turned. He even manages to step over Barry's sneakers, sitting to the left of the doorway, in enough time to avoid tripping over them and landing on his ass. Len is aggressive in his need to have Barry, showing thru the dark look in his eyes; assured of his absolute right to have him, regardless of the divide between them – contrasting jobs and time separated conflicting with an unsure future and the knowledge that what might come up in the next hour or the next day could tear them both apart. But they don't need to worry about that here in Barry's bedroom, in Barry's bed; not when Len lies down and rolls on his side, motioning for Barry to slide behind him.
Barry kicks off his pants, tosses off his shirt, and does what Len wants. He winds a leg between Len's and sends his hands searching for his boyfriend's entrance. It's been quite some time since he's been inside Leonard Snart. He wants to relish it. Barry grabs his bottle of lube from underneath his pillow, figuring this will be slow going, opening Len up, getting him prepared. But he sucks in a breath when his fingers find a gaping hole and slip right in.
"Jesus Christ," Barry groans, shakily rushing to lube up and replace his fingers with the head of his cock, "were you fingering yourself in the shower?"
"I was waiting for you, but you were too busy flirting with that British guy."
"Don't even. He doesn't hold a candle to you," Barry says with a gasp as he slides into Len's body, stopping when his pelvis hits Len's ass. Barry shudders, winding trembling arms around Len's shoulders, and Len covers Barry's hands with his.
"Now, how does that feel?" Len asks casually, as if they're sitting at the dinner table talking about the weather and not with Barry balls deep in his ass. "Better?"
"God, you feel amazing," Barry replies, hugging him tight. "H-how long do you think you can last this way?" he teases, certain that, in their current position, with the head of his cock resting close to Len's prostate, he has the upper hand.
Even if his boyfriend is hotter and tighter than anything he's ever felt in his life. An echo of his pulse throbs against Barry's cock, a relentless torture in this test of wills, like a gentle kiss, urging him to move.
Len grins. He shimmies back against Barry, pulling a moan from his boyfriend's throat that's sweet, but also sin. "Why don't we find out?"
