[ Feeling Barry climax like this, wet all over his hand, pressed up to him so every tense and shiver radiates, is exquisite. Bruce holds him, giving his cock gentle strokes through it and after, and presses his mouth to the younger man's. Not a real kiss, letting him breathe still, but wanting to be near him. His other hand slides up his back to hold him better, rubbing him soothingly.
He wonders how lonely Barry's been. If it's anything like how Bruce has felt. He hopes he doesn't build up the same maladaptive armor he has, he's so—
Just, sweet. So much of a better person. Bruce gives him a proper kiss this time and leans back, separating enough so that he can raise his hand to his own mouth and drag his tongue over it, licking off still-warm ejaculate. Observing Barry as he does. Bruce has no real faith in his own ability to look particularly enticing while being sexually performative, but he wants this anyway. Bitter and unpleasant but powerfully erotic. He hums lowly and bumps his forehead against Barry's. After a moment he sits forward, both hands moving to support the speedster's weight so that he can shift them and tip him onto the sofa lengthwise on his back, with Bruce over him. ]
Serious about that? [ he asks, slipping both hands in under his shirt to pet at his stomach, sides, and lower, over the lines of his hips. ]
[ Bruce might not be trying to look enticing or seductive, but the way he licks that mess off his fingers has Barry sinking his teeth into his bottom lip and biting back a soft moan at the sight because — Jesus Christ.
The bump to his forehead gets a smile to pull at the corners of his lips, soft and gentle much as Barry himself is beneath the awkward, and with arms lazily dropping away from those shoulders, he finds himself shifting at the request of Bruce. Now on his back, Bruce there over him. To say the sight doesn't make his breath catch for a moment would be nothing short of a lie. He's maybe thought of such a moment like this a couple times already in private, so to have it here, now, like this... Barry can only just admire the way the man looks above him, completely devoted to him and this moment here.
Fingers trace over a bicep as he lays there, back arching and a soft breath leaving his lips as he feels those hands wander beneath his shirt. His head still buzzes from how good it'd been to come as he did, but he can feel little pinpricks of arousal running up his spine with every passing second of this; that second wind creeping its way in. ]
I seriously think hard swerving to R was a good idea.
[ Even if he's never actually gone all the way with another guy before. But, you know, details. ]
[ Bruce pulls his shirt up, tucking it at his armpits and smoothing his hands over Barry's chest. Wondering what kind of marks his accelerated healing has washed away; Just got the wind knocked out of me. Sure you did. He thumbs over a nipple just to see his reaction, settling down lower, knees shifting his weight. ]
It was, [ he says, agreement warm in his voice, before he kisses him. And even though he's just agreed about the R rating, he doesn't move to do more than that. Making out is an overlooked luxury, though. Bruce would like to remember this. All of it. Soft wet noises and the look on Barry's face, the way he's framed beneath him, the pace of his breathing.
In between intently working at his mouth, he tells him, ] You feel good. You taste good.
[ Bruce lets his teeth close around Barry's lower lip as he pulls back, only to press in again, curl his tongue around the younger man's. He's not the best at affirmations or encouraging dirty talk, but an instinct tells him that validation will be welcome. I like this. I want to be here, too.
Though he wonders when the rasp of his not-quite-beard will become uncomfortable. (He shaves, sometimes even twice a day, but it's a lost cause. To make a dent he'd have to wax it like he does everywhere else.) Bruce tries to keep an eye on the flush of his skin, pressing a quick kiss to his jaw. ]
[ Oh the marks he would have if not for that accelerated healing of his. Luckily, it doesn't leave any scars behind to show the number of times he's been hit, especially by genocidal alien guns. Hurts like absolute Hell in the moment, but nothing more than a distant memory after the handful of seconds or minutes it takes. Thanks, accelerated healing.
It's not so much the way Bruce kisses and touches him as it is the praise he's given that makes Barry squirm against him all hot and bothered. Fingers lifting to card through that dusting of salt and pepper Bruce has going on while his others ghost along the curve of his spine, pressing into him with soft little moans that show his pleasure in being given such affection. He likes the way he's touched, the way Bruce feels a little scruffy against his skin every time lips trail away from his own, wandering over the warmth of his skin that sometimes shivers for him purely from how nice that feels alone. He likes a lot of things. I like you.
He slots Bruce between his legs, hands smoothing down the front of the other man's chest, and he tilts his head back, eyes closed, drinking up how good it feels to have those lips and hands on him wherever they so please. ]
I bet you feel good. So... big.
[ It's a whole half a second after his saying that that he huffs a laugh then, head tilting back a little further before he groans at his own words and brings his head back up to nose Bruce, hands smoothing over his neck. ]
I'm... really bad at this. So sexy, right? Like — what am I supposed to say? Pound me with your thick cock?
[ Despite the Super Sexy Moment they're having here on the couch, Barry chuckles soft and warm against the other man's lips and even comes to duck his head a little sheepishly at All Of That. The fact that he can be like this with Bruce, that he doesn't need to be oozing sexual confidence to the point that he's practically soaking Bruce in it is... nice. Because as much as Bruce wants to let this moment last, remember every little look and sound and gasp that falls from parted lips, Barry wants to as well. Wants to enjoy the slowness of a moment that's forever seconds away from becoming a memory.
Gently, he brushes the pad of his thumb over Bruce's bottom lip, dragging it down slow before he leans in to steal a kiss. ]
[ Bruce isn't the type to choke on a laugh, but his eyebrows do a thing. They go up at that first bit, and then up even more at the rest. Somewhere internally he does laugh, and there's the spirit of a wheezed 'what the fuck' in the expressions happening on half his face.
He strokes a hand over Barry's head, smoothing his hair back, and then, gravelly and serious, ] No one's ever composed poetry for me before in the moment.
[ BARRY.
PLS.
Anyway. Teasing aside - he can't escape now, even if he IS fast!!! - Bruce finds himself considering the possibility of actually fucking. Not here, he doesn't have anything, and it would be rude; Barry is his friend and teammate, ally, a confidant. Not inviting him into a bedroom proper would be galling. Especially when something about I bet you feel good strikes him as v-word hypothesizing.
More kissing, for a little while, Bruce humming something pleased against him. And then he shifts back and down, kissing his throat, skimming over the bunched-up fabric of his shirt and getting to his chest. There is no sexy way to do this shimmy, but he can at least manage it gracefully. Appropriate use of ninja skills.
He glances up, and considering all that, he asks, ] You in a hurry?
[ Have you ever considered just actually laughing, Bruce? Might do you a world of wonders, just saying.
He murmurs something about composing poetry on the spot being another one of his special skills he'd neglected to tell Bruce the first time around but it's a little jumbled together what with the way he's being kissed and touched again. Dirty talk might not be A Thing he's all that great at but, turns out? He's pretty good with his mouth in other ways, so.
Pleasantly lost in the way those lips feel dipping lower and lower, he blinks his eyes open when Bruce asks about whether or not he's in a hurry and he tilts his head there against the couch cushion, fingers rubbing over a shoulder as he looks to him; he just feels the need to touch him. ]
Considering I can be in Central City within a few seconds? No. I... never am. Usually. World possibly ending aside. Or — there was this one time on the bus when this lady was taking forever to pay for her fare and I really thought I was going to lose my mind because I was late for an interview that wasn't even for a job I wanted, but. [ A beat, realizing he's rambling, he huffs a quiet laugh. ] Not important. No. I'm not in a hurry right now.
[ But he's definitely got that second wind if the energy he has isn't anything to go by. ]
[ Bruce 'mmhms' his way down Barry's torso, listening to his charming babble, mapping him with his mouth, his hands. He presses against his heart chakra, and the one below it on his solar plexus, and sacral. Smoothing out motions to encourage energy flow. He's noticed the way Barry holds himself sometimes, and who knows if it's hobbyist yoga, or what, but Bruce is also into nerdy meditation shit, so. It's just nice, he thinks. Draws his fingers down parts of the stomach meridian. Snack hole.
And, because why wouldn't he, Bruce finds a spot on the curve of his hip to sink his teeth into - carefully, at first, testing the waters - and wonders how long hickeys last.
He looks up - ] Good. Because I wanted to suck to you off.
[ He wraps Barry's cock in one hand, loose and easy, giving him gentle strokes and watching his face. Bruce can get hard again too (is on his way, the longer they continued), but he'll need more than a metahuman's quick recovery time. If he's serious about his stamina, why not? He can think of few things better to devote some time to, than making Barry feel good, for as many hours as he can wring out of this night. (Day, soon.) ]
[ Charming babble is such a sweet way to put it, especially when he's super capable of "babbling" for extended periods of time until needing to be told to just shush. But the fact that Bruce would also be into chakras and meridians and grounding oneself amidst that inner peace is pretty cool and Barry could easily get behind that with him. Just, you know, when he's not being marked and threatened to have a good time of getting his cock sucked. Sort of takes priority over how over or underactive are your chakras, my guy?
The bite to the curve of his hip has Barry gasp a little unexpectedly and he finds his cock twitch bit, a telltale sign of yes, he likes and yes, please more, sir. But it's the words that follow that really make him hard, cock springing to life in the other man's hand as he strokes him, face already a little flushed because... that is definitely not a thing he's imagined before. Seriously. Him sucking off Bruce? Sure. But Bruce with his cock in his mouth? Can't say he's ever thought that could be a thing before and his mind blanks for just a couple seconds on the possibility of it being real.
Licking over his lips, he swallows thickly after a moment, then chuckles a little breathlessly as he looks down to Bruce there between his long legs. ]
That's like — probably the hottest thing anyone's ever said to me. Other than your meal's on the house.
[ Trust.
But the thrill it gives him already has a wet bead of precome there at the slit of his cock and Barry bites down a little harshly on his lower lip. Not necessarily embarrassed with how eager he is again, just... eager. ]
You trying to see how much it takes before you can sexually exhaust me?
[ C'mon, Barry, open chakras prepare the spirit and body to accept positive feelings, and enhance sexual pleasure. Get into these hippie waters.
(In fairness, getting his cock sucked will also enhance sexual pleasure. Probably more so.)
He strokes him, thumbs over the tip to spread that wetness, rests it there to rub at it. For a long moment he just holds him there as he gets back to that spot on his hip, worrying a darker mark into his skin. Feeling as he gets harder, fills out in his hand. Bruce presses the younger man's cock up against his belly when he raises his head to finally answer, palm flat, moving it oh-so-slightly up and down. ]
If I had to bet, I'd say you'll win, [ Bruce muses, keeping up that barely-there rub. ] But I like the idea of giving it a shot. Do you?
[ Barry could always end up getting bored. Who knows. Bruce presses the thumb of his other hand into the bruise forming on his hipbone. For his part, Bruce is mostly used to sleeping with women - not by any means inexperienced with men, but life goes a certain way - and he tends to think just the once is kind of rude, in those encounters. Why fuck if you're going to be bad at it. The idea of getting Barry off over and over is powerfully erotic. ]
[ Well, Bruce. You just might get your wish in wanting to get this speedster off as may times as you can since Barry is quite willing and eager to go along with that because, you know, it's you and all. Add to that the fact that he's never done a Sex Marathon of sorts and sure, he's all for it. Especially with seeing just how much he can take before he really does need a break for himself. His metabolism and stamina might be fast and beefed up, but he still gets tired, still gets depleted like anyone else and yeah, he's going to need a lot to eat after to get his energy back up. Good thing Bruce is covered there, right?
He squirms against the couch in a way that feels good even to him and the sounds he makes for Bruce are lovely and eager and needy in every way they possibly can be. His experience might not be godly when it comes to sleeping with men but damn if he isn't doing a good job getting Barry to feel things he's never quite felt before; the fact that it's Bruce probably adds to that as well. ]
That's — that's a very good idea, yeah.
[ He breathes out a laugh as he arches his back, humming in a way that shows he likes what Bruce is both saying and doing and he blindly reaches down to rest trembling fingers on a shoulder, gripping tight. ]
You know — sometimes I think about you. [ Swallowing, he takes a moment to appreciate how he feels before continuing. ] And you've outdone every sort of thought that I've ever had about you. A hundred times over.
[ Being fantasized about is not a new admission - it's really not surprising, how alluring billions of dollars is to people, and he's heard everything, every which way - but he thinks Barry might be near enough the first person he believes it out of. He isn't sure he deserves it, but right now with the younger man under him, already hard and leaking again, he's pretty fucking grateful. The hand at Barry's hip squeezes him harder, for just a moment.
Composure regained, ]
Oh? [ Bruce licks over the head of his cock, a thorough sweep, pressing the tip against his slit. ] Was I not very good, in your imagination?
[ He still holds onto him, but he lets his mouth explore his straining erection, lapping around the crown and lower, above where his hand has him cupped. This is not an act he does too often, but he performs it with the same focus he does everything else. No half measures or lack of deadly intent. Slips his hand higher so that his mouth can move lower, sucking at his balls, letting his tongue curl back behind what he can reach, unflinching and shameless. No straight guy squeamishness about anything, despite his reputation. ]
[ The way Bruce lavishes him with such detailed attention makes Barry think either he's Really Good at pretty much everything he does, or this isn't his first rodeo in getting it on with another guy which, for the record, he's totally fine with either way, given his own gentle lack of experience to an extent. But Bruce just always has this way of exuding confidence, even when he's not The Master of whatever he's doing that Barry just buys it as well as enjoys it. Sort of hard not to when you've got a guy lavishing your dick and balls the way Bruce here is with his tongue, but. You know. ]
No — you were. [ He breathes that out with a quick little breath, fingers gripping tight at that shoulder they cling to. ] It's just — different. Really different. Good different. Real.
[ And not all in his head.
Barry arches some off the couch as Bruce continues to tease and taste him, his cock eagerly responding to every lick and brush of that tongue and those fingers, and he tries to resist the urge to card those fingers through that salt and pepper he has for his hair, afraid he might pull on the strands the second they're woven between his fingers.
With a shaky breath, he laughs a little, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he chances a glance between his legs. ]
[ Bruce listens to him, skims one hand up to palm over his chest and roll one nipple between his fingers, watching Barry. Thinking about the power of fantasy and how reality rarely lives up to expectations. It's flattering; he hopes it's true. (When's the last time Bruce fantasized about anything besides oblivion? He has no fucking idea.)
Vic thought this would go badly. Bruce wonders if it's because of anything he saw, back on the ship.
Mm. Don't.
Bruce smiles at him, a small expression, but a genuine one. And then he situates his arm over Barry's hips to hold him down - letting him push up, if he wants, but Bruce is strong enough to keep him in place. Another few teasing licks and then he takes his cock into his mouth properly, sucking wetly at him. ]
[ The second he finds himself slipping into that warm, wet mouth, he groans with fingers dragging blunt nails along the shoulder they hold tight to. It's... good. Really fucking good and Barry can barely contain himself from wanting to thrust up into that mouth to already be deeper than he is. Suffice to say, he's eager for anything and everything that Bruce is willing to give him and he's already given him so much with just the kisses and touches and being able to suck him off like he did. To be treated with his mouth on his cock like this... it's even better than any fantasy he might have come up with and he loves it. Adores it. Adores him for this and so many other reasons he can't even put together right now. ]
Ah— fuck.
[ The curse slips out without him even realizing it, chest and stomach tight as he swallows thickly at how much his head spins from the feeling of being inside the other man's mouth. It's better than anything he could have ever imagined and, truth be told, he hadn't done much imagining of Bruce being the one blowing him, so this is extra nice in so many ways.
Fingers blindly card through the salt and pepper of his hair, shallow breaths given as he licks over his lips, tilts his head back, and enjoys how good it feels to be on the receiving end. ]
[ 'Heroes don't do that', unless they're written by Zack Snyder, who will post custom oral sex fanart to his social media accounts and then get DMCA'd by a furious WarnerMedia.
So. Everyone's having a great time, today.
Bruce isn't as brag-worthy in ability, with sucking cock, but he'll do. He holds Barry down and strokes at the base of him, slowly moving his head up and down over the rest, suckling and licking at him like there's nothing he'd rather be doing. No crime to fight, no cases to obsessively comb over, no impending alien invasion to prepare for. Just this, feeling how hard he can get Barry, how much precome he can coax out of him; he wants to learn how much pressure and where gets the best reaction out of him, and apply that, again and again.
He pulls back up and off, so that he can tease the tip of his cock, rubbing his lips over just the crown. Looking at Barry as he does, eyes dark with arousal. ]
I want to feel you come, [ he tells him matter-of-factly. It's the kind of thing that one says before abruptly going back at it, but Bruce lingers, rubbing at the base of his cock and stroking up, practically massaging the length of him before he takes him back into his mouth. ]
But Bruce continues to lick and suck and tease in ways that Barry has only ever dreamed about and he has no idea how much more of it he can take. Which, it's fine that he can't because he'll just go again in a few minutes once he's caught his breath and come back down from that euphoric high orgasms tend to take a person to. Really, he actually does have to wonder how many of these Bruce intends to milk out of him, pun absolutely intended.
The way he says what he wants is with such authority in Barry's mind that he can't not want to do as he says. He nods, pitifully, sucking on his bottom lip with teeth pressing down hard and trying to remember that he's already come for Bruce and that it's not going to be much of a surprise that he can or that he wants to for him, especially with how greedy and eager he'd been for Bruce's own load in his mouth. Maybe Bruce is the same, maybe he wants it just as bad in the pit of his stomach. Whatever the case, Barry finds himself slipping, heels digging into the cushions of the couch as breaths start to become more shallow. ]
I want to come for you — Bruce.
[ Fingers find their way in both the cushions and the other man's hair and the sounds he makes are both desperate and loud, though he tries to bite them back after every stroke into that warm mouth that works him. God, Alfred, sorry if you end up hearing any of this, please don't look at him awkwardly if he sticks around come morning.
But Barry gives in with little warning (sorry B-Man) and comes unexpectedly then, hard and thick, just as he had before. He doesn't do much in the way of holding Bruce there on his cock, but fingers do twist tightly in the strands of hair they have and he swears he sees stars behind his eyes this time as he comes for the second time. ]
[ He wants Barry to feel good. This wonderfully genuine person, who has been unflinchingly loyal and earnest when he's had no reason to be, who's trusted Bruce when he's had no reason to—
It means more than he can say. And it makes this easy, and comfortable. It doesn't feel like a shocking revelation or a massive romantic overhaul of the way he thinks about him. It just is, and he likes that; it'll have to be discussed later, and in that space there's plenty of room for Bruce to ruin things with his lack of emotional intelligence. But for now.
Now, he can do this, and hope that Barry thinks it's worthwhile.
Bruce sucks him steady and determined. Like being able to sense when someone's about to recoil for a punch, he has a brief moment of intuition before Barry climaxes. Not much warning, but he likes that. He likes knowing he pulled it from him, he likes the feedback loop of bone-deep satisfaction. He lets him come in his mouth, holding there, fingers petting him through it. When he's done, Bruce pulls back and swallows, wiping pointedly at his mouth after. Other hand still resting with him, stroking over heated, sweat-slick skin. ]
[ The fact that Bruce is both willing and eager in his own way to swallow down what he's given has Barry gasp breathlessly at the sight as he strains to keep himself up there against the couch, riding out the rest of everything that he feels and can barely hold onto anymore.
Collapsing fully against the couch finally, fingers slip away from the other man and drop to just barely touch the floor, arm flung down while the other remains draped above his head. A disheveled mess of post-orgasmic bliss and sweat clinging to flushed skin, he stares off into nothing as he slowly descends from the haze he's found himself thrown into for a second time — but this time much stronger than the first.
It takes him a moment before he's able to bring his hand down from above his head and messily comb fingers through the slight bit of sex hair he has going on there. Swallowing thickly, he breathes out heavy, eyes blinking hard and slow. A blissed out mess on Bruce's couch. ]
[ He soaks in Barry's contentment as much as anything else, warmth blooming deeper in him— a luxury, to be able to really care for someone, while doing this. He's normally in charge to one degree or another (sometimes an extreme one, sometimes in routine, dull gender roles), but he so rarely gets to indulge in what he actually likes about it. There's a temptation to be smug about that reaction or, heaven forbid, say something like
haha blew ur mind, huh
but no, he'd die.
Bruce captures the younger man's flailed hand, pulls it up from where it dangles off the side of the sofa. Presses his mouth to Barry's palm, a quiet kiss. Almost too tender for what they're doing, but Bruce seems so serious, even now.
He holds it against his cheek instead, looking up. ]
Barry, [ he says plainly, almost an answer to that. ]
[ The gentleness which Bruce gives him after making him come a second time is appreciated. For all the clumsy awkwardness he sometimes has in how he is around others, he craves affection as much as anyone else does, even if he doesn't outright admit or say it all that often. Having this lull here between them as he catches his breath and gently drifts down from the bliss he'd been thrown into yet again, he smiles at the touches — at the kiss. At the way in which Bruce says his name as if to reassure him of who he is in a way.
His own fingers of that hand Bruce cradles to his cheek gently stroke over the stubble along his jaw, playfully but lazily scratching almost as he lolls his head to the side and smiles down to the other man in all his blissed out laziness. ]
Thanks.
[ For the reminder — for this right here. For everything that tonight has been. He never in a million years would have thought something like this to be a thing that could ever happen and yet, here he is. Post-orgasm for the second time in a row and yeah, he kind of sort of likes it a lot. ]
Would it be... intrusive of me to want to just... crash here? For the night, I mean — what's left of it anyways.
[ Bruce tips his head into Barry's touch. Wonders distantly when it'll be too much; it always is. He always is, even in his strange distance. But the returned smile, and his request to stay, put him at ease. ]
You were going to tell me you had work in the morning and bail? [ is lightly teasing. Bruce presses a kiss to his bare stomach, then shifts up. Softer, ] I'd like it if you stayed.
[ No matter what they end up doing. Or not doing.
A potentially clumsy endeavour, as Bruce moves, stretching one arm out to find his phone in his discarded coat pocket. He relaxes against Barry - a tricky fit on one sofa but he's used to making it work - and looks at a recent message. Hums something amused, and holds up the screen for Barry to see. The latest text from Alfred; Thank you & Master Allen for the leftovers.
Bruce retracts his phone, sends back something (a seemingly innocuous remark that is the equivalent of leaving a sock on the doorknob), sets it aside. ]
[ Wow, Bruce. He's not you?? Though he'd probably be up starving — he will be up starving first thing in the morning the second he's able to wake himself up, so. Prepare yourself for that and the appetite that comes with a speedster on a practically empty stomach. Sorry about that, Alfred.
Which, speaking of.
Leaning in with a squint, the face he makes when reading the screen is one which is very much oh shit with how his lips are pulled and he flicks his gaze up to Bruce for a moment before he just... huffs a laugh and groans then, hand running down his face before he just waves it around. It is what it is after all. The mention of a shower, however, gets him to hum with a little smile on his lips, squirming a bit there on the couch before he goes to pull himself up. ]
I... would love that, yes. Getting to see what sort of luxurious soaps and things Bruce Wayne has in his shower.
[ Leaning into the man, he bumps his shoulder against Bruce's with a playful smile on his lips before he chuckles some. ]
Kidding. But it's probably nicer than anything I have. I don't even know what I have actually. Probably Axe or something.
[ Things he could find out in a couple seconds but that would require having to zip in and out of here and, quite frankly, he just wants to stay. At least for as long as he's able to. So, with a puff of his cheeks and... tucking himself in there a bit, he pushes himself up and stretches his arms out, hen in front of him, fingers laced tight as he cracks them. ]
[ That's just life, being in Bruce Wayne's orbit; it's the same orbit as Alfred Pennyworth, and nothing goes unnoticed - and, usually, politely (?) remarked on. At least the older man will have time to make himself scarce for a bit if he's camped upstairs, which is just one more ordinary mechanic of their strange lifestyle. Al's got plenty of options, from a multitude of properties around the city to his Old Man And The Woods airstream out back (which Bruce personally cannot stand but tolerates, as not tolerating it would be beyond the pale of hypocrisy for all the weird shit he does that Alfred puts up with).
Bruce sits up, does some button work, moves his coat. Says, ] That's the idea.
[ Unless Barry would prefer not to. But. Eyebrows? Yes, no?
Anyway. Cut to: Interior / Bathroom. Still underground, an expanse of black tile and many faucets and showerheads, dark marble benches. There is a normal bathtub and one that looks like it's for physical therapy. A sauna, small locker-room, idk a bidet maybe. Rich people shit. Many towels. ]
I'm not actually sure what luxurious soaps there are, [ he admits with a shrug, pulling off his shirt. ] The blue bottles are surgical soap, though, I'd skip those.
[ Well he hadn't wanted to assume Bruce would be joining him, but. He can't say that he's not pleased that he is.
When he sees the bathroom and all its luxury, he blinks as he starts to remove his shoes and socks and his jaw might just drop for a second or two because... fancy. Very very fancy. Probably the fanciest bathroom he's ever been in to be honest. Not that he's been in hundreds or anything, but. Still. ]
You really go hard on the black, huh? [ Just an observation as he smiles over to Bruce, shirt pulled off a second later. ] Ever think of adding a splash of colour here and there?
[ He doesn't really mind the black or seek to give Bruce Wayne of all people interior decorating tips, but. You know. It's conversation and all. As he undresses. Completely. Yeah.
Barry's there at the shower within a literal blink of an eye, a pile of clothes left there on the floor where he'd been just a second ago, backside now on full display for Mr. Wayne himself. No point in being shy or awkward about it considering all the fun they'd had on the sofa there, so. Pushing the door to the shower open, he smiles a little brightly at how large and roomy it is because ]
Wow, this is huge.
[ Suffice to say, nothing he's used to himself.
Barry shoots Bruce a smile over his shoulder before he steps his way inside and fiddles with the knobs, eager to be drenched in warmth and let his muscles soak up the heat of the water. The moment the shower comes to life, he sighs and it bleeds into a pleased little hum as he stands there beneath the stream of warmth and tilts his head back, letting the water run down his chest and soak the hair that he has on him there. So Manly. So Beary. 💦 ]
It's a transitional space, [ he says mildly, which will either make sense or it won't. Batman is out all night, and this is a continuation of it - but quiet, and safe, and relaxing. A gear change before peeling back the curtain to scathing sunlight and bleak reality. Nothing he does down here relates to his civilian persona. Above, things are a little different. (But only a little.)
Barry leaves a cartoon outline of empty clothes and reappears naked in the shower, but Bruce has to take a second. Removing things and setting them aside, he is in the other half of the Justice League Body Hair Spread, with nearly everything waxed off. Do he and Arthur get it done professionally or do they each do it themselves??? Must be An Ordeal either way, if the hair they leave behind is anything to go by. But the thing of note with him fully nude isn't the hair or no hair, but the potentially nauseating map of scars. Between good armor and an inexhaustible budget for care, it's not as bad as it could be (and not as bad as it has been, in some stages), but still significant. ]
Makes up for the one upstairs. [ His voice only echoes a little inside the broad shower cubicle, standard bathroom acoustics slightly dampened by the strange depth of the chamber. He reaches out, runs a hand from Barry's elbow to the back of his neck, rubbing for a moment before moving to get fancy soap of some kind. ]
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He wonders how lonely Barry's been. If it's anything like how Bruce has felt. He hopes he doesn't build up the same maladaptive armor he has, he's so—
Just, sweet. So much of a better person. Bruce gives him a proper kiss this time and leans back, separating enough so that he can raise his hand to his own mouth and drag his tongue over it, licking off still-warm ejaculate. Observing Barry as he does. Bruce has no real faith in his own ability to look particularly enticing while being sexually performative, but he wants this anyway. Bitter and unpleasant but powerfully erotic. He hums lowly and bumps his forehead against Barry's. After a moment he sits forward, both hands moving to support the speedster's weight so that he can shift them and tip him onto the sofa lengthwise on his back, with Bruce over him. ]
Serious about that? [ he asks, slipping both hands in under his shirt to pet at his stomach, sides, and lower, over the lines of his hips. ]
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The bump to his forehead gets a smile to pull at the corners of his lips, soft and gentle much as Barry himself is beneath the awkward, and with arms lazily dropping away from those shoulders, he finds himself shifting at the request of Bruce. Now on his back, Bruce there over him. To say the sight doesn't make his breath catch for a moment would be nothing short of a lie. He's maybe thought of such a moment like this a couple times already in private, so to have it here, now, like this... Barry can only just admire the way the man looks above him, completely devoted to him and this moment here.
Fingers trace over a bicep as he lays there, back arching and a soft breath leaving his lips as he feels those hands wander beneath his shirt. His head still buzzes from how good it'd been to come as he did, but he can feel little pinpricks of arousal running up his spine with every passing second of this; that second wind creeping its way in. ]
I seriously think hard swerving to R was a good idea.
[ Even if he's never actually gone all the way with another guy before. But, you know, details. ]
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It was, [ he says, agreement warm in his voice, before he kisses him. And even though he's just agreed about the R rating, he doesn't move to do more than that. Making out is an overlooked luxury, though. Bruce would like to remember this. All of it. Soft wet noises and the look on Barry's face, the way he's framed beneath him, the pace of his breathing.
In between intently working at his mouth, he tells him, ] You feel good. You taste good.
[ Bruce lets his teeth close around Barry's lower lip as he pulls back, only to press in again, curl his tongue around the younger man's. He's not the best at affirmations or encouraging dirty talk, but an instinct tells him that validation will be welcome. I like this. I want to be here, too.
Though he wonders when the rasp of his not-quite-beard will become uncomfortable. (He shaves, sometimes even twice a day, but it's a lost cause. To make a dent he'd have to wax it like he does everywhere else.) Bruce tries to keep an eye on the flush of his skin, pressing a quick kiss to his jaw. ]
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It's not so much the way Bruce kisses and touches him as it is the praise he's given that makes Barry squirm against him all hot and bothered. Fingers lifting to card through that dusting of salt and pepper Bruce has going on while his others ghost along the curve of his spine, pressing into him with soft little moans that show his pleasure in being given such affection. He likes the way he's touched, the way Bruce feels a little scruffy against his skin every time lips trail away from his own, wandering over the warmth of his skin that sometimes shivers for him purely from how nice that feels alone. He likes a lot of things. I like you.
He slots Bruce between his legs, hands smoothing down the front of the other man's chest, and he tilts his head back, eyes closed, drinking up how good it feels to have those lips and hands on him wherever they so please. ]
I bet you feel good. So... big.
[ It's a whole half a second after his saying that that he huffs a laugh then, head tilting back a little further before he groans at his own words and brings his head back up to nose Bruce, hands smoothing over his neck. ]
I'm... really bad at this. So sexy, right? Like — what am I supposed to say? Pound me with your thick cock?
[ Despite the Super Sexy Moment they're having here on the couch, Barry chuckles soft and warm against the other man's lips and even comes to duck his head a little sheepishly at All Of That. The fact that he can be like this with Bruce, that he doesn't need to be oozing sexual confidence to the point that he's practically soaking Bruce in it is... nice. Because as much as Bruce wants to let this moment last, remember every little look and sound and gasp that falls from parted lips, Barry wants to as well. Wants to enjoy the slowness of a moment that's forever seconds away from becoming a memory.
Gently, he brushes the pad of his thumb over Bruce's bottom lip, dragging it down slow before he leans in to steal a kiss. ]
But I wouldn't say no.
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He strokes a hand over Barry's head, smoothing his hair back, and then, gravelly and serious, ] No one's ever composed poetry for me before in the moment.
[ BARRY.
PLS.
Anyway. Teasing aside - he can't escape now, even if he IS fast!!! - Bruce finds himself considering the possibility of actually fucking. Not here, he doesn't have anything, and it would be rude; Barry is his friend and teammate, ally, a confidant. Not inviting him into a bedroom proper would be galling. Especially when something about I bet you feel good strikes him as v-word hypothesizing.
More kissing, for a little while, Bruce humming something pleased against him. And then he shifts back and down, kissing his throat, skimming over the bunched-up fabric of his shirt and getting to his chest. There is no sexy way to do this shimmy, but he can at least manage it gracefully. Appropriate use of ninja skills.
He glances up, and considering all that, he asks, ] You in a hurry?
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He murmurs something about composing poetry on the spot being another one of his special skills he'd neglected to tell Bruce the first time around but it's a little jumbled together what with the way he's being kissed and touched again. Dirty talk might not be A Thing he's all that great at but, turns out? He's pretty good with his mouth in other ways, so.
Pleasantly lost in the way those lips feel dipping lower and lower, he blinks his eyes open when Bruce asks about whether or not he's in a hurry and he tilts his head there against the couch cushion, fingers rubbing over a shoulder as he looks to him; he just feels the need to touch him. ]
Considering I can be in Central City within a few seconds? No. I... never am. Usually. World possibly ending aside. Or — there was this one time on the bus when this lady was taking forever to pay for her fare and I really thought I was going to lose my mind because I was late for an interview that wasn't even for a job I wanted, but. [ A beat, realizing he's rambling, he huffs a quiet laugh. ] Not important. No. I'm not in a hurry right now.
[ But he's definitely got that second wind if the energy he has isn't anything to go by. ]
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And, because why wouldn't he, Bruce finds a spot on the curve of his hip to sink his teeth into - carefully, at first, testing the waters - and wonders how long hickeys last.
He looks up - ] Good. Because I wanted to suck to you off.
[ He wraps Barry's cock in one hand, loose and easy, giving him gentle strokes and watching his face. Bruce can get hard again too (is on his way, the longer they continued), but he'll need more than a metahuman's quick recovery time. If he's serious about his stamina, why not? He can think of few things better to devote some time to, than making Barry feel good, for as many hours as he can wring out of this night. (Day, soon.) ]
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The bite to the curve of his hip has Barry gasp a little unexpectedly and he finds his cock twitch bit, a telltale sign of yes, he likes and yes, please more, sir. But it's the words that follow that really make him hard, cock springing to life in the other man's hand as he strokes him, face already a little flushed because... that is definitely not a thing he's imagined before. Seriously. Him sucking off Bruce? Sure. But Bruce with his cock in his mouth? Can't say he's ever thought that could be a thing before and his mind blanks for just a couple seconds on the possibility of it being real.
Licking over his lips, he swallows thickly after a moment, then chuckles a little breathlessly as he looks down to Bruce there between his long legs. ]
That's like — probably the hottest thing anyone's ever said to me. Other than your meal's on the house.
[ Trust.
But the thrill it gives him already has a wet bead of precome there at the slit of his cock and Barry bites down a little harshly on his lower lip. Not necessarily embarrassed with how eager he is again, just... eager. ]
You trying to see how much it takes before you can sexually exhaust me?
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(In fairness, getting his cock sucked will also enhance sexual pleasure. Probably more so.)
He strokes him, thumbs over the tip to spread that wetness, rests it there to rub at it. For a long moment he just holds him there as he gets back to that spot on his hip, worrying a darker mark into his skin. Feeling as he gets harder, fills out in his hand. Bruce presses the younger man's cock up against his belly when he raises his head to finally answer, palm flat, moving it oh-so-slightly up and down. ]
If I had to bet, I'd say you'll win, [ Bruce muses, keeping up that barely-there rub. ] But I like the idea of giving it a shot. Do you?
[ Barry could always end up getting bored. Who knows. Bruce presses the thumb of his other hand into the bruise forming on his hipbone. For his part, Bruce is mostly used to sleeping with women - not by any means inexperienced with men, but life goes a certain way - and he tends to think just the once is kind of rude, in those encounters. Why fuck if you're going to be bad at it. The idea of getting Barry off over and over is powerfully erotic. ]
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He squirms against the couch in a way that feels good even to him and the sounds he makes for Bruce are lovely and eager and needy in every way they possibly can be. His experience might not be godly when it comes to sleeping with men but damn if he isn't doing a good job getting Barry to feel things he's never quite felt before; the fact that it's Bruce probably adds to that as well. ]
That's — that's a very good idea, yeah.
[ He breathes out a laugh as he arches his back, humming in a way that shows he likes what Bruce is both saying and doing and he blindly reaches down to rest trembling fingers on a shoulder, gripping tight. ]
You know — sometimes I think about you. [ Swallowing, he takes a moment to appreciate how he feels before continuing. ] And you've outdone every sort of thought that I've ever had about you. A hundred times over.
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Composure regained, ]
Oh? [ Bruce licks over the head of his cock, a thorough sweep, pressing the tip against his slit. ] Was I not very good, in your imagination?
[ He still holds onto him, but he lets his mouth explore his straining erection, lapping around the crown and lower, above where his hand has him cupped. This is not an act he does too often, but he performs it with the same focus he does everything else. No half measures or lack of deadly intent. Slips his hand higher so that his mouth can move lower, sucking at his balls, letting his tongue curl back behind what he can reach, unflinching and shameless. No straight guy squeamishness about anything, despite his reputation. ]
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No — you were. [ He breathes that out with a quick little breath, fingers gripping tight at that shoulder they cling to. ] It's just — different. Really different. Good different. Real.
[ And not all in his head.
Barry arches some off the couch as Bruce continues to tease and taste him, his cock eagerly responding to every lick and brush of that tongue and those fingers, and he tries to resist the urge to card those fingers through that salt and pepper he has for his hair, afraid he might pull on the strands the second they're woven between his fingers.
With a shaky breath, he laughs a little, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he chances a glance between his legs. ]
I really like your mouth.
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Vic thought this would go badly. Bruce wonders if it's because of anything he saw, back on the ship.
Mm. Don't.
Bruce smiles at him, a small expression, but a genuine one. And then he situates his arm over Barry's hips to hold him down - letting him push up, if he wants, but Bruce is strong enough to keep him in place. Another few teasing licks and then he takes his cock into his mouth properly, sucking wetly at him. ]
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Ah— fuck.
[ The curse slips out without him even realizing it, chest and stomach tight as he swallows thickly at how much his head spins from the feeling of being inside the other man's mouth. It's better than anything he could have ever imagined and, truth be told, he hadn't done much imagining of Bruce being the one blowing him, so this is extra nice in so many ways.
Fingers blindly card through the salt and pepper of his hair, shallow breaths given as he licks over his lips, tilts his head back, and enjoys how good it feels to be on the receiving end. ]
Yeah — really like your mouth. Like you.
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So. Everyone's having a great time, today.
Bruce isn't as brag-worthy in ability, with sucking cock, but he'll do. He holds Barry down and strokes at the base of him, slowly moving his head up and down over the rest, suckling and licking at him like there's nothing he'd rather be doing. No crime to fight, no cases to obsessively comb over, no impending alien invasion to prepare for. Just this, feeling how hard he can get Barry, how much precome he can coax out of him; he wants to learn how much pressure and where gets the best reaction out of him, and apply that, again and again.
He pulls back up and off, so that he can tease the tip of his cock, rubbing his lips over just the crown. Looking at Barry as he does, eyes dark with arousal. ]
I want to feel you come, [ he tells him matter-of-factly. It's the kind of thing that one says before abruptly going back at it, but Bruce lingers, rubbing at the base of his cock and stroking up, practically massaging the length of him before he takes him back into his mouth. ]
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But Bruce continues to lick and suck and tease in ways that Barry has only ever dreamed about and he has no idea how much more of it he can take. Which, it's fine that he can't because he'll just go again in a few minutes once he's caught his breath and come back down from that euphoric high orgasms tend to take a person to. Really, he actually does have to wonder how many of these Bruce intends to milk out of him, pun absolutely intended.
The way he says what he wants is with such authority in Barry's mind that he can't not want to do as he says. He nods, pitifully, sucking on his bottom lip with teeth pressing down hard and trying to remember that he's already come for Bruce and that it's not going to be much of a surprise that he can or that he wants to for him, especially with how greedy and eager he'd been for Bruce's own load in his mouth. Maybe Bruce is the same, maybe he wants it just as bad in the pit of his stomach. Whatever the case, Barry finds himself slipping, heels digging into the cushions of the couch as breaths start to become more shallow. ]
I want to come for you — Bruce.
[ Fingers find their way in both the cushions and the other man's hair and the sounds he makes are both desperate and loud, though he tries to bite them back after every stroke into that warm mouth that works him. God, Alfred, sorry if you end up hearing any of this, please don't look at him awkwardly if he sticks around come morning.
But Barry gives in with little warning (sorry B-Man) and comes unexpectedly then, hard and thick, just as he had before. He doesn't do much in the way of holding Bruce there on his cock, but fingers do twist tightly in the strands of hair they have and he swears he sees stars behind his eyes this time as he comes for the second time. ]
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It means more than he can say. And it makes this easy, and comfortable. It doesn't feel like a shocking revelation or a massive romantic overhaul of the way he thinks about him. It just is, and he likes that; it'll have to be discussed later, and in that space there's plenty of room for Bruce to ruin things with his lack of emotional intelligence. But for now.
Now, he can do this, and hope that Barry thinks it's worthwhile.
Bruce sucks him steady and determined. Like being able to sense when someone's about to recoil for a punch, he has a brief moment of intuition before Barry climaxes. Not much warning, but he likes that. He likes knowing he pulled it from him, he likes the feedback loop of bone-deep satisfaction. He lets him come in his mouth, holding there, fingers petting him through it. When he's done, Bruce pulls back and swallows, wiping pointedly at his mouth after. Other hand still resting with him, stroking over heated, sweat-slick skin. ]
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Collapsing fully against the couch finally, fingers slip away from the other man and drop to just barely touch the floor, arm flung down while the other remains draped above his head. A disheveled mess of post-orgasmic bliss and sweat clinging to flushed skin, he stares off into nothing as he slowly descends from the haze he's found himself thrown into for a second time — but this time much stronger than the first.
It takes him a moment before he's able to bring his hand down from above his head and messily comb fingers through the slight bit of sex hair he has going on there. Swallowing thickly, he breathes out heavy, eyes blinking hard and slow. A blissed out mess on Bruce's couch. ]
I can't remember who I am.
[ He can, but damn if he feels like he can't. ]
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haha blew ur mind, huh
but no, he'd die.
Bruce captures the younger man's flailed hand, pulls it up from where it dangles off the side of the sofa. Presses his mouth to Barry's palm, a quiet kiss. Almost too tender for what they're doing, but Bruce seems so serious, even now.
He holds it against his cheek instead, looking up. ]
Barry, [ he says plainly, almost an answer to that. ]
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His own fingers of that hand Bruce cradles to his cheek gently stroke over the stubble along his jaw, playfully but lazily scratching almost as he lolls his head to the side and smiles down to the other man in all his blissed out laziness. ]
Thanks.
[ For the reminder — for this right here. For everything that tonight has been. He never in a million years would have thought something like this to be a thing that could ever happen and yet, here he is. Post-orgasm for the second time in a row and yeah, he kind of sort of likes it a lot. ]
Would it be... intrusive of me to want to just... crash here? For the night, I mean — what's left of it anyways.
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You were going to tell me you had work in the morning and bail? [ is lightly teasing. Bruce presses a kiss to his bare stomach, then shifts up. Softer, ] I'd like it if you stayed.
[ No matter what they end up doing. Or not doing.
A potentially clumsy endeavour, as Bruce moves, stretching one arm out to find his phone in his discarded coat pocket. He relaxes against Barry - a tricky fit on one sofa but he's used to making it work - and looks at a recent message. Hums something amused, and holds up the screen for Barry to see. The latest text from Alfred; Thank you & Master Allen for the leftovers.
Bruce retracts his phone, sends back something (a seemingly innocuous remark that is the equivalent of leaving a sock on the doorknob), sets it aside. ]
Want to take a shower?
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Which, speaking of.
Leaning in with a squint, the face he makes when reading the screen is one which is very much oh shit with how his lips are pulled and he flicks his gaze up to Bruce for a moment before he just... huffs a laugh and groans then, hand running down his face before he just waves it around. It is what it is after all. The mention of a shower, however, gets him to hum with a little smile on his lips, squirming a bit there on the couch before he goes to pull himself up. ]
I... would love that, yes. Getting to see what sort of luxurious soaps and things Bruce Wayne has in his shower.
[ Leaning into the man, he bumps his shoulder against Bruce's with a playful smile on his lips before he chuckles some. ]
Kidding. But it's probably nicer than anything I have. I don't even know what I have actually. Probably Axe or something.
[ Things he could find out in a couple seconds but that would require having to zip in and out of here and, quite frankly, he just wants to stay. At least for as long as he's able to. So, with a puff of his cheeks and... tucking himself in there a bit, he pushes himself up and stretches his arms out, hen in front of him, fingers laced tight as he cracks them. ]
Are you — I mean. Will you be joining me?
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Bruce sits up, does some button work, moves his coat. Says, ] That's the idea.
[ Unless Barry would prefer not to. But. Eyebrows? Yes, no?
Anyway. Cut to: Interior / Bathroom. Still underground, an expanse of black tile and many faucets and showerheads, dark marble benches. There is a normal bathtub and one that looks like it's for physical therapy. A sauna, small locker-room, idk a bidet maybe. Rich people shit. Many towels. ]
I'm not actually sure what luxurious soaps there are, [ he admits with a shrug, pulling off his shirt. ] The blue bottles are surgical soap, though, I'd skip those.
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When he sees the bathroom and all its luxury, he blinks as he starts to remove his shoes and socks and his jaw might just drop for a second or two because... fancy. Very very fancy. Probably the fanciest bathroom he's ever been in to be honest. Not that he's been in hundreds or anything, but. Still. ]
You really go hard on the black, huh? [ Just an observation as he smiles over to Bruce, shirt pulled off a second later. ] Ever think of adding a splash of colour here and there?
[ He doesn't really mind the black or seek to give Bruce Wayne of all people interior decorating tips, but. You know. It's conversation and all. As he undresses. Completely. Yeah.
Barry's there at the shower within a literal blink of an eye, a pile of clothes left there on the floor where he'd been just a second ago, backside now on full display for Mr. Wayne himself. No point in being shy or awkward about it considering all the fun they'd had on the sofa there, so. Pushing the door to the shower open, he smiles a little brightly at how large and roomy it is because ]
Wow, this is huge.
[ Suffice to say, nothing he's used to himself.
Barry shoots Bruce a smile over his shoulder before he steps his way inside and fiddles with the knobs, eager to be drenched in warmth and let his muscles soak up the heat of the water. The moment the shower comes to life, he sighs and it bleeds into a pleased little hum as he stands there beneath the stream of warmth and tilts his head back, letting the water run down his chest and soak the hair that he has on him there. So Manly. So Beary. 💦 ]
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Barry leaves a cartoon outline of empty clothes and reappears naked in the shower, but Bruce has to take a second. Removing things and setting them aside, he is in the other half of the Justice League Body Hair Spread, with nearly everything waxed off. Do he and Arthur get it done professionally or do they each do it themselves??? Must be An Ordeal either way, if the hair they leave behind is anything to go by. But the thing of note with him fully nude isn't the hair or no hair, but the potentially nauseating map of scars. Between good armor and an inexhaustible budget for care, it's not as bad as it could be (and not as bad as it has been, in some stages), but still significant. ]
Makes up for the one upstairs. [ His voice only echoes a little inside the broad shower cubicle, standard bathroom acoustics slightly dampened by the strange depth of the chamber. He reaches out, runs a hand from Barry's elbow to the back of his neck, rubbing for a moment before moving to get fancy soap of some kind. ]
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