nightlife | open.

[ 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. ]

[ Despite his speed and ability to be anywhere within a matter of seconds, when Bruce slips in behind him, it startles him just a little bit — that touch drawing a gentle shiver from him. Mostly because of his being a little lost in the warmth of the water.

When he turns to face him, he smiles, but it gently fades when he sees the marks and scars that litter the other man's body in places. Barry doesn't have the same sort of marks because of his accelerated healing, thankfully. So to see just how many Bruce wears has him pause — has him reach out with his fingers and brush the tips of them over a few. For as remarkable as Batman is in the moment and having seen The Dark Knight in action himself — the bearings he can take, it's a reminder of just how much he has taken. A reminder of the sort of lives they live in secret.

The way he touches those scars amidst the cascade of water around them is gentle and it mimics the way in which he looks up to Bruce then. Quiet. Hearing only the sound of the water between them for a moment. ]

Are we just going to forget about all this? [ He asks, soft. ] Pretend it never happened come tomorrow? I go back to Central City, you stick around here? See you around sometime?

[ He can feel the way his heart skips a couple beats as he asks, looking to Bruce with a gentle uncertainty before he offers him just the hint of a smile there. It's fine, He Gets It. He just still feels the need to ask with how close tomorrow seems to feel to him in this moment. ]

[ He uses a slew of excuses for the civilians he sleeps with - but his strange, eccentric life dotted with very real tragedy lends itself to believability. But Barry actually knows the truth. Who was the last? Selina?

He doesn't remember. He could, if he put effort into sifting out whatever painful memory it is, because it's always the last. It makes him want to reach out and pull the younger man closer, kiss him again. A galvanizing shock of understanding. But Barry looks at him like that, uncertain and open, and Bruce stays where he is. Absently lathering soap in his hands. Taking his time figuring out what to say. ]

Is that what you want?

[ Could be. This is a lot. Bruce is an intense person, and staring down the barrel of realizing he's over-committed with some old guy is more than enough to be weirded out by. He doesn't want Barry to feel cornered.

He wants—

Something. Not forgetting. Not chaining Barry to a sinking ship, either. ]

[ There's a lot of things Barry wants. To do justice as ~~The Flash~~ a "superhero" within Central City and for the League they've made of themselves. To continue to learn more about his abilities and capabilities with the speed force and time travel and the potential for multiple universes and realities both inside and out of their own. To help free his father and prove his innocence of a crime he knows he didn't commit — a murder he is not guilty of doing. To keep this moment here with Bruce as something real and tangible in a life that's sometimes felt anything but. For a kid who lost his mother so young, his father as a result of that, and who ended up drifting and taking one dead end job after another while keeping to himself and never really doing much with his life until now... this right here is real — Bruce is real and it hits Barry a little harder than it might for someone else because of his knowing that he'd lost this man for a few seconds before. He'd lost everyone, until he chose to be brave and run backwards for them, not knowing what could or would happen to even him in doing so.

So it's why when Bruce stands there, lathering soap in his hands, and asks him if forgetting this is what he wants, Barry sinks his teeth into his bottom lip and gives a slow shake of his head. ]

Not particularly.

[ He reaches up then, hands gently grasping the sides of the other man's neck and he just looks to him. Quiet. Letting a smile slowly tug itself at the corner of his mouth. A nonchalant shrug, he glances off to the side for a moment before he looks back to Bruce with a softness in his eyes. ]

I couldn't be without you the first time. Without any of you. [ He ran back for them all. ] Feels like I'd be wasting some kind of second chance if I just... decided not to. Want this.

[ It must have been unbearable, watching that happen, and knowing what it was. Having to choose. Bruce wonders about the depth of Barry's misery over it, dealing with it alone and isolated in his, frankly, godlike ability. He steps in closer when the younger man reaches up to touch him, and thinks about his own turmoil at the center of the clash against Steppenwolf. I could bring Superman back, but not my son. Not my parents.

Do you feel that way, does it hurt just as bad, even when you're happy about the fix you were able to make?

Words are hard.

Bruce sweeps soap-covered hands up (furry-beary) Barry's chest, to his shoulders, one hand staying higher to let his fingers run over the line of his collarbone. ]

You surprised me, but it's not a bad surprise. [ Which means it's a good one. See how that goes, one after the other. ] I don't want to forget.

[ He hadn't been sure where any of this was looking to go or if anything, at all, was going to be "addressed" in some capacity. Things like that sort "ruin the magic" of the moment, he thinks. Because as much as his winding up in Bruce's fancy car had been done without any sort of intention of it leading to where they are right now, that's part of the magic of it all. With how impulsive and spontaneous one act and decision after another can lead to things one never planned on or expected to have happen. In this case? It's all nice. It's all really nice.

So when Bruce goes and agrees about not wanting to forget, Barry finds himself feeling lighter in the moment, in a way, a fleeting glance given down to the hands that smooth over his chest before he's looking back up to Bruce. ]

Then don't. Even if you're here and I'm there... I can always show up in a nanosecond when you need me. Or, the old fashioned way of flying on over in your private jet.

[ Huffing a laugh, the smile he wears is gentle yet warm, letting the pads of his thumb brush over the sides of Bruce's neck that he still holds to under the cascading warmth of water around them. ]

With those... nice and comfy seats. Really comfy seats.

[ That smile slowly turns into a grin and he pulls at Bruce just enough to be able to kiss him then, pressing a pleased little hum against those lips he indulges in. Wet kisses with Bruce Wayne in the shower. Something to check off the ol' bucket list. ]

Oh, is that it? [ Bruce's low voice is quiet under the fall of the water, intimate for the way only someone as physically close as Barry right now could hear, trading kisses in between words. ] You were in my car because you couldn't find the keys to the plane?

[ They can still fuck this up. (Bruce probably will fuck this up. It's his speciality.) But he really doesn't want to.

What he does want: to make out with Barry in the shower, so. He does just that, while lazily running soap-sudsy hands over him, pulling him in close so they can both get the benefit of it. Bruce is, what, half a foot taller than him, and it makes it a little funny to dip forward to get a good angle, but it also lets him crowd the younger man against the dark tiles. Slow and courteous, letting him alter their course if he wants. Unhurried, indulgent. This place has an endless supply of hot water, and there are still untested fancy shampoo bottles. They can take a minute. ]

[ Bruce's words coupled with all the kisses he's given and showered in tear the loveliest little sounds from the speedster, a never ending smile seemingly stuck there on his lips. He likes this. He really likes this. It's not even overwhelming to him so much as it is intoxicating and he finds he really doesn't want to let go of this moment. Not when he's had so many so unlike this before in his life.

When his back touches the dark tiles of the shower, he hums a little against the other man's lips, hands slipping away from his neck to smooth over arms and then that chest, head tilting up just enough to be able to drink up every single kiss the other man wants from him. In here, nothing else matters. Just this. Just Bruce. Just the feel of him pressed so close against him.

His thoughts circle back around to his being there in the other man's car, however, and he nips playfully at Bruce's bottom lip with a softened smile on his face. ]

Well, unlike some people, I don't do the whole breaking and entering thing. [ Just gonna gently call you out there, B-Man. However, Barry's gaze softens some then as he looks to Bruce. ] Actually — I wanted to ask you.

[ Licking over his lips, he leans his head back there against the dark tiles, looking to Bruce a little more seriously despite, you know, the whole being in the shower together and enjoying the whole making out thing. ]

You know a lot of people — powerful people, I guess and I was just wondering if maybe... you knew some people who could help with my dad. [ Again, he licks over his lips and he shakes his head. ] I'll pay you back w-whatever it costs with lawyers or whatever. I mean — once I start getting a steady income with my job at the police force, I s-should be able to make a... pretty decent living. Even if it's just a foot in the door kinda job right now.

[ Huffing a laugh, he scrunches his face up as he stares to Bruce's chest before he flicks his gaze back up to the man. ]

Just... if you can help... I'd really appreciate it. Maybe people will listen to powerful lawyers instead of some nine year old kid trying to tell them that he's innocent.

[ He's smiling faintly, enjoying the warm playfulness of it. Bruce doesn't get much of this, hasn't even with previous partners; not a lot of light in Gotham. But then Barry leans back, and Bruce listens, his expression turning grave and serious. (But he takes everything seriously.)

The tiniest spark—

You didn't have to do all this if you wanted help. I would have just helped. Is this why. You don't have to give me anything for it. Please don't.

That insecurity is for him to deal with, later. None of it shows on his face, or in the gentle way he strokes his thumb over the base of the younger man's neck, comforting. ]

Of course. [ Bruce has already looked at the case, inside out. It's abysmal. Only Barry's unshakable faith keeps him from believing his father did it, actually. Bruce has been around the block with enough improbable murders that he wouldn't say there's no chance it wasn't Henry Allen, and he hasn't ever sat down with the man in person to glean a gut instinct about it, but on paper, he's fucked. There's nothing any lawyer, any Innocent Project firm, can do.

He'd rather cut his own hands off then tell that to Barry. He won't. ]

Anything you need. I'll make sure it gets there.

[ The way Barry's face lifts with a gentle sort of hope here in the shower is something he hasn't felt for a long time concerning his father. The fact that Bruce would help — he believes him, doesn't he? He wouldn't just be doing this if he didn't, in some capacity, so it means a lot to him that he would. That someone would actually listen to him for once and not just write him off as some kid blinded by the fact that their father would never do such a thing.

It has Barry lick over his lips — has him bring his hands back up to cup at Bruce's neck and leans in to kiss him. Sweetly. Though with a faint heat of desire there for the other man still. ]

I need you.

[ He lets the words brush over Bruce's lips... and then his thoughts begin their rapid fire in switching in and out as they do. Because Barry isn't stupid — he's quite smart actually. So it dawns on him, even without Bruce having to say or insinuate anything that this might come off... a certain way and the thought has Barry scrunch his face up then. A tilt of his head, his brows knit together; he wants to make something awkwardly clear here. ]

Please don't think — this isn't because of that. I'm not — I don't do things like that. You're just my friend who I happen to really really like and if there's anyone who would believe me it would be you, I would hope and I just...

[ Pausing, he takes a breath and looks up to Bruce with a soft smile amidst the water falling down around them. ]

It would mean a lot to me. Like you do.

[ He likes to think Bruce wouldn't think him a whore or something, but with the way Barry's mind is capable of jumping from one topic to the next as quickly as it does, there's that (awkward) part of him that feels he needs to make that clear.

Letting his hands slip away from the other man's neck, he smooths them over the front of that chest instead, Barry peeking up at him from wet lashes before he huffs a soft and sheepish laugh. ]

I'm... very charming and romantic... in case you couldn't tell.

[ People don't act rationally around the word billionaire, sometimes. It isn't reflective of their normal character. Bruce wouldn't hold anything against Barry. He wouldn't think badly of him; he doesn't think badly of anyone who tries to get money out of him, even when it's done maliciously. The world isn't fair. No matter how many times he nearly bankrupts himself, he can regain it virtually overnight. He can bleed money into charities, and politicians just use his example as a reason not to change taxes or adjust social programs for the better. See? Trickle-down works.

What's he supposed to do? Stop?

I need you, Barry says, and something twists in his stomach. Just a little. He'd never think of Barry in such insulting terms (and not only because he doesn't think that word is an insult).

It would just, you know, hurt his feelings real bad. Pathetic as that truth is. He'd give Barry anything - would a week ago, would without any of this. A part of his brain is already calculating how many cases and how far back an investigation would have to go, to get to the root of potential mishandling. What histories do each of the police involved have? What did the DA's office look like at the time? What evidence remains, how has it been evaluated over the years? What immediate and long-term ripples have been caused?

It's Bruce's turn to shift his hands, holding Barry's face, looking at him intently. ]

Anything you need, or want, at any time, [ he tells him gravely. ] You don't have to give or do anything. You don't even have to be nice to me about it. Do you understand?

[ He likes that the younger man has clarified. But still. ]

[ There was a time where Bruce needed him — needed The Flash — and all that he could do. Barry had willingly followed him, given him what he wanted, run back in time to bring him back to life. He has nothing but respect and loyalty to this man who he thinks sometimes doesn't believe he deserves it, thinks that whatever demons he carries with him tell him such a thing and then some. Now it's Barry's turn to need him. But it's not entirely for the case of his father. It's something that runs a little deeper, something Victor warned him as being risky. For Barry, he lives on those risks, in a way. He's the shining hope that breaks through them, gives others another chance. Is one that, despite his own grievances and weights he carries on his shoulders, he runs towards the future now and he'd like Bruce to be there in whatever future he manages to shape for himself.

For a long moment, he's silent when Bruce says to him what he does and he can feel a sort of urgency laced within those words that maybe Bruce doesn't realize is there. Needing him to understand that, regardless of all of... this.

Lips part as if to speak but... he smiles instead. Soft. A nod given to show that he hears him, that he understands, he turns his face into one of those hands and kisses softly at a wet palm, letting it linger there for a few seconds. ]

I think you could use a bit of nice in your life.

[ The pad of his thumb traces over a scar Bruce wears, running along the entirety of it before he leans in to bump his nose against the other man's, hand coming up to grip at his neck again. ]

I ran back so I could see you again. [ His words are a quiet whisper so close to Bruce's lips there, just barely touching. ] There's very little I wouldn't do for you.

[ Looking to kiss him, he stops then, pulling back just enough to raise a brow to the man. ]

By the way — if I were looking to butter you up and get something out of you, pretty sure it would be the batmobile. Just saying.

[ You silly old man. ]

Edited (when u get disconnected before the rest of the tag goes through ) 2021-08-11 01:40 (UTC)

[ Barry leans in, and Bruce lets his hands move down, sliding around him to hold him there. Listening intently still. It's obvious that he wants him - not in a vulgar way (though that too lbr), but truly, genuinely, he wants him to be here and be himself, feel no compulsion or desperation. Barry deserves better from the world than to feel cornered. Bruce doesn't deserve much. Not even niceness, even the way Barry offers it up like that.

But he can like it. Sometimes.

He smiles the faintest bit, about the car. Remains quiet for a while. Someone's fingertips are going to be nearly pruned.

Finally he moves, leaning in enough to kiss him. Slow and sensual, hands splayed on his back, cradling him and pulling him flush against him. ]

I'm not convinced you know how to drive, [ Bruce murmurs against his mouth. ]

[ At first, there's a playful roll of his eyes since, c'mon dude. You know he's pretty ok with driving stick. But that roll of his eyes turns into a brow being raised as he lingers there close against Bruce and that mouth on his. Even with the splashing of water around them, he can hear just fine. ]

Pretty sure I know how to drive you crazy with my mouth on your cock.

[ Oh the grin he wears in saying that before soft laughter bubbles from those lips of his and he leans up to kiss at the other man's temple, fingers stroking down the side of his neck. This is nice. All of this is... nice. Some semblance of normal amidst their respective chaos they have within their lives.

Ducking his head, he noses at Bruce's neck, lips pressing a couple warm open-mouthed kisses there before he hums a little to himself and lets hands brush over the expanse of the other man's back. Just wanting to feel him. Keep him close like this. Solidify him and remind himself that he's real. That he's here. That he's not alone. On both their parts. ]

If you take me to bed, I'm gonna keep touching you, ok? Coming to find I like touching you.

After that line?

[ Just kidding, he takes it all back, kicking Barry out for the night—

No. Bruce does lean away for a second, but he's clearly teasing, and returns to Barry's hold. No escaping.

Clearly he's alright with that notion. That they haven't gotten up to anything in here is probably down, simply, to that near heart attack Barry gave him. So: more making out, more soap, and fortunately there's enough room to get that done in here without bonking anyone's elbows into tile. A wide expanse of shower cubicle, and expensive enough stone to prevent slipping without the need for little rubber flowers on the floor. (Even the drain is neatly designed to not be such an obvious dent. Aesthetic.)

Bruce is fine. Probably. Barry skitters around from topic to topic, too quick for ordinary human thought processes, on top of what Bruce figures is probably a natural inclination towards being sort of awkward. And that's something he accepts without prejudice; some things he's just weird about.

Maybe that's also fine. ]

[ Whatever, Bruce. You liked it, he knows.

He takes to kissing the other man in random spots across his neck, shoulders, and collarbones, wet and warm in the way he does while letting arms encircle the other man around his waist, firm and content in the way he keeps him nice and close. He loves the feel of the water relaxing his muscles and the lips and touches that brush over his own wet skin as they stay there a little longer in the show. If the point of all of this was to actually clean themselves it's... partly achieved? He certainly doesn't feel as flushed and sweaty as he had been back on Bruce's couch, so. There's that accomplishment.

As much as he loves the warmth of the water around him, he does have other plans than to become a California Raisin. Plans which involve wrapping himself up in the luxury of a big-big bed and sinking into sheets and skin and arms maybe. For once.

Pressing a wet kiss to the other man's peck, he looks up to them as he brushes a hand over his face, chasing away the water. ]

Think I'm good. Kinda got myself excited for your bed and sinking into it.

[ Because it's sure to be something bigger and nicer than anything he's ever had before. Hands brushing over Bruce's arms, he hums a little, a smile on his lips as he looks up to him again. ]

Wanna head out?

[ Bruce murmurs his agreement, following which is a series of things such as turning the water off, obtaining towels, offering robes, making sure to bring Barry's clothes with them, and so on. We'll skip the tedious description of bleak stairwells for the tedious description of the house on the surface:

Some hours ago by now, Barry asked about his bedroom, and Bruce said he missed it. Now it's easier to see how - the entirety of the lake house is one open space with a few dividers, barring a rectangle in the center that hides the small original bathroom and various utility hookups. When they'd arrived after the diner, they'd walked along the side of the house with the kitchen, facing the woods that lead to the manor. Simply turning the other way at the elevator doors lands them at the other side, facing the lake.

It's grey out, nearing the stage of turning gold. Very early morning, and the slowly churning water and shapes of distant trees are either eerie or beautiful, depending on your point of view. Bruce's bed is the main feature, backed up against the aforementioned rectangle, a 'wall' that serves as a headboard. Above his bed is a large photograph of what might be a flower, or a contorted person; hard to tell in the dark. It's quite sexual, either way, contrasting sharply with the modern restraint of everything else.

White sheets. Very soft but firm mattress.

Almost coyly, ]

Do you want pajamas?

[ Sexual in the dark? Seems fitting for Bruce Wayne or, even The Batman in a certain way. Maybe that's just Barry. Regardless, he looks the room over with curious, bright eyes, standing there in his nice robe with his pile of clothes in his hands before he zips away from Bruce within the blink of an eye and is suddenly nosediving into the center of the large bed as if it were a ball pit.

Clothes are left behind on the floor, Barry still in his robe as he starfishes himself out there on the large, white bed, before he huffs a laugh to himself at how not bouncy or fluffy it is — which kinda almost sorta makes sense for Bruce — before he comes to turn on his side, fingers carding through his damp strands of hair that stick a little to his forehead and face.

He's not entirely sure what he'd expected in terms of Bruce's private quarters. The expansive windows are certainly something any voyeur would take pleasure in... if they could walk on water or had a high tech scope on their lens from the bushes out there. Creepy, but. You know. But the way it almost feels as if they're floating on water is serene if even in an eerie sort of way and yet, it blends beautifully beautiful with how Bruce himself can come off sometimes.

Gaze lingering on the photograph overhead, when the offer for pj's comes up, he looks over to Bruce then, cheek pressing against his shoulder. A shake of his head, he slowly wears a playful grin on his lips, shifting to lay there on his side a little better, hand pulling back the corner of the sheets beside him. ]

But I won't say no to you.

[ Sometimes, he can wear that confidence of his a little boldly and not end up stumbling over his own words or thoughts. ]

[ Barry's enthusiasm for everything he's interested in really is charming. Bruce finds himself put at ease by it, watching him gleefully wriggle over his bed. (Sorry it isn't squishier. Back injuries, rip.)

Charming and, in this case, also a turn-on.

Bruce sits at the edge of the bed and shrugs his robe off, unconcerned with the windows. No one's back here. It's isolated, he owns the land several square miles in either direction, and has constant monitoring of the grounds and airspace. A funny psychological trick; still alone, confined, despite the vast openness. He runs a hand up Barry's side to his chest, petting over him before leaning in and giving him a kiss.

Nothing to do now but prowl closer, pull sheets back, get tangled up. Mouth on his. ]

[ The moment Bruce shrugs his robe off, Barry's eyes are all over him, teeth sinking into his bottom lip to bite back the pleased little sound he makes. The very same one he lets slip from his lips a little louder then when that mouth is on his and they're kissing again. Just like they have been for most of the night, now bleeding into early morning from the looks and sounds of it.

His enthusiasm spills into the kiss he's tangled up in, hand grasping the back of the other man's neck and pulling him in closer as he drops back against the bed, the front of his robe falling open as he does. His lips are just as eager as his touches as he deepens their kiss with featherlight breaths, and he goes so far as to sharply nip at Bruce's bottom lip, dragging a leg up along his side as he grins with a pleased little hum against that mouth. ]

Are you looking to get me off three times in one night? Because you're getting dangerously close to that. Just saying.

[ Words he murmurs against the man's neck and chest as he presses warm open-mouthed kisses along his skin, letting fingertips brush over his arm and side. ]

[ Bruce gets over him, settles down, enjoying being able to stretch out and just kiss him, palming over his chest, pushing open that robe. ]

'Dangerously close'? [ He gets a kiss on Barry's cheekbone as he slips a hand over his shoulder, encouraging his arms out of the robe sleeves. Not letting him up to do away with it, hitching close to rock down against him, between his thighs. His physical self can be a little overwhelming, but Barry looked so pleased, and it went straight to Bruce's cock. He captures his mouth again before shifting to one side, stretching an arm out. ] Can't be missing that.

[ He fishes lube out of a bedside compartment, which is free of the depressing clutter that had plagued it for a few years. (Pill bottles, empty glasses, wine stains.) Silicone-based. You know. Friction. Speed. Just in case. He clicks it open and gets his hand wet, reaches between them to slick it cool and sticky just below Barry's navel, warming it up, teasing him, not-quite-there. ]

[ Somewhere in the chaotic spinning that is his thoughts, Barry realizes that he's about to go All The Way with Bruce and that has his heart stammering in his chest with anticipation. Not because he's shy or that he's unsure about this. He wants this. He wants Bruce and to feel him so much and has from the second they first kissed. It's that this is his first time with another man. Completely. And it's with Bruce Wayne.

His breath hitches at both the thought and the way it feels when Bruce rocks against him, eyes slipping shut and the faintest of his moans dropping from his lips before he licks them over. Before he swallows thickly.

Bruce has done this countless times, he thinks. Maybe not (always?) with men as much as women, but for Barry, he worries he might get swept up in Bruce to the point of it becoming... more. Because after all this, when the morning has fully come and no longer flirts with the night outside, he's still not sure what will happen, what any of this will mean, despite neither of them wanting to forget. Things to worry and mull about later, he tells that part of his mind, sighing in such a lovely little way as Bruce touches him in places he's only ever really touched himself. ]

Like this is ok?

[ He asks then, his voice soft. Curious. ]

I mean... you don't want me some other way? Different... position?

[ You know, if Bruce doesn't want something so vanilla. ]

[ Bruce curls his hand around Barry's cock and strokes him, just about familiar with the feel of him by now, and enjoying it. His own is thickening steadily, pressed against him. He kisses along the younger man's jaw and lower, lightly sucking at a pulse point high on his throat. ]

Mm. [ Different? Bruce gets that mark a little darker, lets his teeth graze it. ] I just want you, Barry.

[ Making that clear, first and foremost. He pauses his stroking just to hold him, squeezing gently, almost massaging his cock with his hand. Thinks about the mechanics of various things. They don't have to have penetrative sex. There's nothing less intimate about a lack of it; mutual orgasms are a hell of a thing no matter what.

Doesn't want him to be bored, though. ]

What do you prefer?

[ He hitches his hips up, just slightly, rocking against the younger man. ]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject