[ Bruce does get off on it. He has such a difficult time opening up and being expressive, offering any reactions - Barry's certainly noticed how quiet he's been even in the midst of it here. Letting go, even when he wants to, even desperately, when he truly and earnestly enjoys what he's doing and who he's with, is a struggle. But he can get other people there. If he can't take it for himself he wants to give it, and soak up the satisfaction from it.
He wants to.
It's just rough.
In the here and now: Bruce leans forward to kiss Barry's cheek (the one on his face), and then ducks lower to press another to his shoulder. Alright, alright. He sits up and hums something thoughtful-sounding, and tugs at his rim with the pads of his fingers, all calloused from work and violence. ]
I think I have to fuck you, [ he admits, just working that hole, getting him open. Not pushing in deep enough to stimulate his prostate. He hitches Barry up a little so that he can get a hand under him and pet his cock up against his belly, giving him another sensation with it. ] Do you like knowing that. I could watch you come until it's dark out again. But you're driving me crazy, too.
[ He lets his cock brush against his backside, and then pulls his fingers out so he can direct the crown to his wet hole, just kissing it with the tip. Rubbing it, teasing, almost pushing in. There's white fluid leaking from the slit, eager, needy. It makes him shiver. He has to pull back, then, and get Barry up properly onto his knees. ]
Feeling okay?
[ Good thing he asked. Bruce blinks and feels like a fuckin idiot for a second before he swears under his breath and leans back over to the side table. Condom, oops. He pinches Barry's ass, mutters, ] Distracting me.
[ The feeling of Bruce rubbing his cock and smearing some of his cum across his ass is an intensely hot one that he hopes he'll get to feel again in the future because damn, if that doesn't get him nice and hard.
When he's pulled to his knees, his breath hitches, cheeks flushed and skin tingling with an anticipation of being filled with the man's cock. Wondering just how much he'll be stretched, how tight he'll feel for Bruce, how good it'll be to have the head of that cock hitting his prostrate over and over again instead of curled fingers rubbing at it teasingly. Hoping that he'll be good for Bruce β not a disappointing fuck β and that he'll want to do this again sometime. Be it fucking him down into the mattress, getting him off until he can't anymore, or letting him get sucked off as many times as he can go. Barry can't help but hope he'll be enough for any of that again with Bruce, even if they've both said they don't want to forget.
He relaxes his muscles, lets his eyes fall shut and lips to part with a gentle breath when... cursing? He swears he hears Bruce curse and he glances back over his shoulder a little dazed and confused. ]
What'sβ [ But before he can even ask, his ass is pinched and he catches sight of what the other man slipped away for. ] Oh.
[ Bruce is careful in more ways than one it seems. Granted, he figures the man has slept with... numerous people in his time, so. He can't blame him. Never mind risk of disease and all that. It's appreciated? That he cares so much. Scratch the image of Bruce coming on his face out of his head though. At least for now. ]
What a gentleman.
[ He teases softly, swaying his hips from side to side nice and slow as he smiles to him over his shoulder. ]
[ Considering the bulk of Bruce's nocturnal activities (how many times has he had a stranger's blood splattered on him/been injected with weird shit/been assaulted in an unfun way? christ), he's definitely been taking preventative drugs since they were in the experimental stages, in no way about to wait for FDA approval, and is just about the safest human slut you can bareback on the planet. But it's Barry's first! time! and even though he's already sucked him off, it's just thatβ
Crack. Bruce smacks his butt again, this time with just enough force behind it to make that comically loud sound. Skilled enough not to make it hurt, though. ]
You should be in the habit of it. [ Brat. Bruce gives him a flat look that's ruined by how flushed and dishevelled he is, dick peeking up from between his legs, practically attempting to reach the moon it's been so long. ] If you want me to skip it, you can ask next time.
[ This time he's getting railed responsibly.
Sort of.
Bruce gets the condom on and slicks it up, then leans up one last time to coax Barry into a kiss and tug one of the pillows over, just in case the angle ends up too much for him in a few minutes. Back in position, there's little fanfare for how he nudges the head of his cock against him with a purpose. Gentle but firm. ]
Breathe slow, [ he advises, keen observation on any potential flinch or tense, as he pushes in. It feels so good he has to stop for a second, though it's more to reel himself in from the kneejerk desire to immediately back out and savor that initial clench again right on the tip. He gives him a few inches, hands a steady presence on his hips, going until he feels tension and then stops, backing off, giving him shallow, rocking pushes, just loosening him up, letting him get used to it. ]
[ That last kiss (for now) is sweet and tender in ways Barry craves deep down. Bruce has managed to give him so many things in the span of the hours they've spent together tonight that it's a little surreal to think it's all happened in the first place. How a sort of misfire text he hadn't really meant to send Bruce but also did at the same time had led to the man coming to check on him in his car, take him out for food, listen to the weight he's been carrying on his shoulders in secret now, endure an awkward confession in how a particular speeds feels about him, and end up making that same speedster come soon to be four times in the course of a night together. It's surreal, isn't it? Yet Barry wouldn't give a single second of it up for anything; he doesn't want to forget any of this.
The advice to breathe slow is shown to be heard with a gentle nod of his head, but when he feels the nudge of that cock at his hole, he seemingly forgets for a moment and his breath hitches with a gasp.
Fingers twist in the sheets beneath him, Barry's face scrunching up before eyes fall shut and his head falls between his shoulders. Feeling the way he stretches around that cock as it sinks itself into him... it's big and it's thick and it almost feels as if he can't take it all. But he breathes β slow β a strangled little whine spilling from his lips as he sinks teeth into his bottom lip and lets himself be filled. Lets Bruce slide into him with those shallow rocks of his hips. For a moment, one arm gives out a little and Barry moans, pressing his face into his bicep, righting himself after a couple seconds. ]
More. [ He breathes then, eyes fluttering open, mouth dry as he swallows. ] Want more of you. Please.
[ Bruce takes it slow, grateful for the fractionally dampened sensation of the condom. What a great way to embarrass himself after all this, if he went off early. RIP. But no, he's fine; much better than fine, the incremental deepening rolls of his hips wrapping him in better and warmer pleasure. Superslick lubrication and dedicated preperation do their jobs, and he trusts Barry to actually tell him if something hurts. ]
Fuck, [ is a lush sigh. ] You feel.
[ Perfect, really.
He rubs Barry's tailbone soothingly, and helps keep him up, the hand still at one hip clenching tighter in a tell about how much Bruce is feeling it, too. The desire to let loose and fuck into him without restrain is there, animal instinct lurking in him. He gives him more, as asked, sliding in deep, deeper, but not holding there. Drawing back, then in again. After a few thrusts he pauses with his cock buried there, letting Barry feel it, stretched and full. He doesn't try and force his whole length in and risk hurting him, the weight of his balls only just barely brushing his ass. He flexes his hands on him, restless. He's so hot, and sweet. Bruce knows he's pressing heavy and hard past all those nerve endings, rubbing over the gland tucked away at the base of his cock, stretching his muscles in an aching burn.
Experimentally, he rocks his hips in short circles, still stuffed in deep. Keeping careful attention on Barry's reactions even as he feels sweat drip down his chest. ]
[ For as quick as he's capable of being with everything, Barry appreciates the slow of this moment, both to adjust in how it feels to be so full and stretched, and in being able to savor this moment of his first time with another man. A man who he has a hopeless crush on. Honestly, who better to lose some sort of virginity to? Bruce might hmm about that, but. To Barry, this is what he wants. This is who he wants. No one else. This is, as Bruce feels, perfect.
The way Bruce takes his time in getting him used to how it feels to be fed his cock is appreciated β sweet? The man could push him down and fuck him relentlessly into the mattress and Barry would let him if it meant they'd both feel good. The amount of trust he has for the man is rather large when it comes to people in Barry's life and while he may not have the full experience with being dicked down by another man, this feels right to him. The way Bruce handles him and this moment feels right and he's so appreciative of it and of him.
Catching (deeper) feelings for a man with his cock in your ass is probably not the best time to decide to do so, but. Barry is always Barry.
Again, his head drops between his shoulders, fingers twisting in the sheets beneath him. Bruce feels so big inside him that he almost wonders how he was able to take any of this in his mouth to begin with. Or maybe this is the Final Boss and he's only now seen his True Form in size now that they're actually fucking and all. Nerdy thoughts that quickly zip through his head before he's back to staring down at the sheets he so tightly grips.
Swallowing, he makes a soft sound of acknowledgment of those hips rocking against him as they do and he presses back against the other man, nice and slow, encouraging him that this is what he wants. ]
Good... [ He breathes out, a whine on his lips. ] You're so good.
[ Offering the praise, he cants his head to the side, before he chuckles a little to himself, pushing back again against those hips and onto that cock. ]
[ Bruce just wants to treat Barry respectfully, and that includes not patronizing him; turning it into a big deal could make him uncomfortable, or embarrass him, when it's simply a thing some people do, out of a lot of things people do. But of course he'd rather make it good. As good as possible. So that if someday he regrets it, at least he had a nice time. At least he came over and over, and moaned like this, and whined, and asked for more.
It's easy to excuse bad sex with someone you care for, and then be doubly bitter later when the care bleeds out. This way he gets a souvenir even if (even when, more likely, this is Bruce we're talking here) things go sour. And as aforementioned, Bruce really likes it. He loves this, wringing more out of him, winning those noises, and squirms, and greedy pushes back. ]
That's what's happening, [ he assures him with a low rumble, and rubs circles on his hips before getting a better grip. He snaps his pelvis forward, light, practically bouncing his cock in. A few quick thrusts, then, seeing how Barry takes it. Christ. He just wants to stay buried, he's so tight and hot. Bruce pulls back, careful not to go all the way so the condom doesn't get fucked up, and then in again, a long, full slide, letting him feel the whole length of him all over again, ending on a quick jab, punctuated by the wet sound of flesh meeting. ]
Feel good? [ Bruce pulls at his hips, fucks into him, doesn't pause after that question. Building more, the glide of it getting easier. Still leashed and in control, but on edge. He grunts, head tipped back. Mmnpphhfuck. ]
Yes. [ He answers without hesitation, little hitches of breaths between thrusts. ] Yeah. Good. It's so good. Feels so good.
[ The way his eyes roll back into his head and the slutty little sounds he makes as he fucks himself back on Bruce's cock... this is what he wants. This is what he needs. This is what he's been craving the moment he and Bruce first kissed back on that couch however long ago that was now. All of this has a tendency to just bleed together for the speedster, where the only thing he does know is that Bruce feels so good touching him, kissing him, fucking him in his bed like this. He's so glad he sent that text message off now.
Feeling the way that cock slides into him stirs something up in Barry every time Bruce gives it to him and it has him feeling filthy in ways that might have him come off a little slutty, a little bit like a whore in heat, but he doesn't seem to care. The only thing he does care about is fucking himself back on the cock and letting it fuck him as hard and deep as Bruce wants. ]
Your dick is so good. [ Words that drip from parted lips as he drops himself down onto his elbows, hips still up for Bruce to keep taking him from behind. ] Taking it so good.
[ Head hung between his shoulders, he moans. Loud. In fact, he finds he can't stop moaning as he rocks himself back against Bruce, arms coming to slide out from under him and drop his upper half down against the bed. Head down, ass up.
The desperate little whines of yes that he chants over and over again to himself are filthy and sweet in how genuine he means them. A mantra to the cock that feeds him this pleasure. Pleasure which his own cock bouncing against his stomach desperately wants and so he reaches between his own legs and strokes himself, gasping a little louder as he does. ]
[ Jesus fuck. Barry takes it so well. So well that Bruce is tempted in hormone-fuelled delirium to say something like You feel like you were made for this, when logically he knows it's all just the lovely merge of muscle control and desire. He drops down like that and Bruce makes this half-choked sound, snapping his hips forward harder. Still keeping a tight grasp on himself, metaphorically - opposed to the literal tight grasp Barry has his hard cock in - but it's more difficult with every stroke in. It's like he's begging with his whole body, pulling him in for more, harder, more.
(And who doesn't want to hear Your dick is so good? The kind of thing you want to get printed on t-shirts.)
This position isn't the greatest for getting his hand on Barry's cock, at this sort of speed, so it's good that the younger man is taking initiative; though Bruce does have a moment where he thinks about pulling off just to flip him over and do it himself, bizarrely possessive in the midst of fucking. Happens. Moments likes that. Like this, too: ego-saving relief about the condom has already shifted to lizard-brain regret, wanting to fill him with cum, hot and filthy. But, his rational, tactical brain will think later, it's just one new layer of something else to try, if Barry ever wants more. Skin on skin and getting filled up.
(If he everβ
Bruce can hope. Can't he?)
He curls over his back, shifting his knees wider, pressing Barry down into himself and grinding into him, humping him deep and hard while barely pulling back. A heavy fuck that can't be sustained indefinitely, but feels so good while it goes. He's making low, rough sounds on every exhale, and he clutches at one of Barry's biceps, just holding him. ]
[ If Bruce isn't going to say it, Barry will, because his thoughts are running along that same line of debauchery where nothing and no one else matters right now but the man pressed heavy at his back, fucking him hard into the mattress. ]
I'm such a slut β I love it. Love being fucked by you. [ Fingers twist and tug at the sheets, Barry pressing down against his arm, mouth hanging open as he buries his head in the sheets, until he's able to push himself up and throw his head back. Gasping. ] Don't want anyone else's cock but yours.
[ Barry glances back over his shoulder and pushes himself back onto the other man's cock a little harder. A little quicker. Watching the way he makes himself take it with glassy eyes and mouth hanging open. He really does love this. Love how it feels to be fucked and filled with the thickness of Bruce's cock that he's wanted all night and only now is being rewarded for being such a good boy with coming three times already. Bruce's cock is his treat for the night and Barry savors every single second of it.
When Bruce curls over him, Barry moans as he's forced to the mattress and whines at the deep and hard fucking he's given. The words yes, yes, yes β oh fuck yes leave his lips religiously as do slutty little whines, turning his head to try and nuzzle and kiss at Bruce wherever he can. ] Want you to come in my mouth. Want you on my face. I wanna be marked by you. Please.
[ A slutty little request he breathes back at Bruce, feeling his own orgasm about to hit him for the fourth time tonight. ]
Especially considering how much it's doing for him. Bruce isn't used to hearing much chatter during sex that doesn't skew towards demoralizing or goading. Wild, this sleeping with nice people thing. Maybe he needs to re-evaluate his type of preferred partner.
He meets Barry's messy kisses, bordering on mindless as he fucks him, rutting artlessly as he's pinned between him and the bed. Coordination seems like a too-far goal for a long moment, in which his only response is a groan that borders on a growl. Maybe he'll deny that, and just keep Barry here, immobile, and simply take.
Too much control for that, even if it's hanging on by a thread. Bruce sinks his teeth into Barry's shoulder as he slows down, just a rolling, deep grind for a moment before he stills entirely to push up on his knees, hauling Barry with him. It's a flipped mirror of how he'd held him before they started, except now the younger man is speared on his cock, his back pressed to Bruce's chest, suddenly upright. One strong arm holds him across his chest to get him in place without risk of sending either of them toppling over, the other moving to let him take Barry's cock in his hand. ]
You have to come first, [ Bruce tells him, low and dark against his ear. ] I want to feel you come on my cock, get so tight, fall apart. Look.
[ In the greyish morning light, fog from the lake surrounding them, a faint reflection is sketched into the windows. Bruce strokes his cock, snaps his hips up. And again. ]
[ The gasp that leaves his lips when Bruce sinks his teeth into his flushed skin β fucking hell, this man. This man that's taken his virginity in such a rough and possessive way that has Barry feeling almost positive he's ruined for anyone else after this. Not because of some purity thing. But because how can anyone compare to Bruce and the way he mindlessly fucks him like this? It's too good, too filthy, too much of Bruce exerting want and need for Barry just as he'd done when he'd recruited him for the Justice League. Even now, the threads of his loyalty to this man grow tighter as he's fucked, Bruce just having that sort of effect on him.
Fingers curl around Bruce's wrist β needing to just touch him in some way β gripping tight as he continues to moan for him. That's when he suddenly finds himself hauled off the mattress and onto his knees, head spinning in a hazy blur of blissed out confusion. At first, he thinks Bruce is about to pull out and there's a sound of heavy protest there on his lips at the thought. But when he feels that arm stretch across his chest and that hand begin to pump his cock, he relaxes β leans back into the other man, breath hitching at the new position with a face flushed and sweaty.
Then... those words.
Despite the filth that's spilled from his mouth, there's something about seeing the faint blur of his reflection in the windows that makes him feel shy. A sexual dreaminess to the way his reflection looks with Bruce behind him there, fucking him with sharp snaps of his hips, Barry still holds tight to the other man's wrist with his fingers, and he swallows down a whimper as he hangs his head, barely watching the way Bruce pumps his cock with his hand. ]
I'm gonna come for you... just you. I wanna come for you.
[ Words he barely manages to string together as he knocks his head back and rolls his against Bruce's, eyes shut, lips parted, panting. A mess ready to unravel within this man's embrace. Which he does. With breaths becoming more quick, more shallow, and blunt nails digging into the skin at Bruce's wrist, he shudders as he tries to bite back the sounds bubbling to his lips, but fails, letting them out with a violent trembling of his body. He's been pretty good thus far at not being too loud in the three times he's come already, but this fourth time... he can't. It all comes out in a heady cry, head tilted back there against Bruce's shoulder as his fourth orgasm of the night hits him and it's the hardest of them all. Thick ropes of cum spurt from the head of his cock, coating Bruce's fingers and spilling to the sheets beneath them. Barry a vibrating mess against the man's chest as his eyes snap open then and he stares up to the ceiling in his bliss, unable to speak, unable to think, his mind a blank mess of nothing. All he can do is come and gasp and hold tight to Bruce's wrist for some sort of support through it all. ]
[ He can be as loud as he wants. There's no one here but them; no one out here but them. Floating alone in some other dimension, practically, surrounded by the lake, and the woods, even the city lights obscured this far out. Bruce fucks him, chasing those sounds, that promise of his climax. It's almost too good when it happens, and he almost loses itβ
Doesn't. Stills and just clutches Barry instead, holding him and strokes his cock through it, marvelling at it. How long it goes on and how much of it there is, unbearably erotic. The way Barry moves, feeling it around his own stiff cock, still straining and desperate inside him, unbelievable. The hold he has around his chest seizes and he makes himself stop, not wanting to grab him too hard, but feeling a little insane being vibrated on.
Fuck.
Bruce stays like that, stroking him until he's got nothing left, coaxing every last drop out and thinking it's almost a shame he's not in a position to clean him up with his mouth. Trying to center himself so he doesn't come, clinging on to that request. He rubs over Barry's chest, and lower just above the root of his cock, nuzzling at his neck, panting. His cock twitches inside him, probably tangible even through the condom, and his breath catches. ]
[ As Bruce milks him for everything that he still has in him, Barry rocks those slender hips into that hand, gently fucking it almost with quiet little breaths and sounds. It feels so good to come like this β to have come for a fourth time in the span of a couple hours or so and the fact that it's with Bruce just makes it all the better to him. Makes it all the more sweeter.
Feeling the other man at his back like he is, Barry can't help but lean into him, feeling as if he might collapse from being sexually exhausted if he doesn't. Spent and in such a good way, he drops a hand down to stroke over his own cock and lets fingers get sticky with cum before he brings them up and presses them to Bruce's lips there at his neck, humming as he does. ]
I came so good for you.
[ Tired smile on his lips, he hums a little more to himself, swallowing as he rubs himself back against the other man, feeling the way that cock twitches inside him almost.
Reaching back, fingers card through Bruce's hair, Barry holding the back of the other man's head. With an almost delirious hum, he tilts his head back just enough to brush lips over Bruce's temple. ]
I wanna feel you come. I wanna taste you. Bruce.
[ The name is nothing more than a whisper against the man's skin, Barry scratching his fingers against the back of Bruce's head before he nuzzles him with nothing but pure adoration and affection for him. ]
[ Bruce curls forward, just a little, making Barry sway a bit but still keeping them both upright. Pressing into those kisses, wrapping both arms around his torso, accepting his sticky fingers. Kind of stuck in an in-between zone of trying not to come and also trying to figure out how he's going to move. Strategic genius becomes marginally challenging when all the blood is out of his brain and into his dick. ]
Okay.
[ βis not actually dismissive. Possibly funny, considering he's holding so still with his cock practically halfway to Barry's esophagus from here, like, you know, it's cool, he's having a perfectly calm moment.
He smooths his hands lower, getting in another sensual touch, the insides of Barry's thighs, before he moves back up to touch his chest and then help him get back down on the bed properly. He exhales as he reaches between them to pull out, careful with the thin latex, which he then peels off to the tune of a low sound. Oof. A part of him abstractly wonders if Barry can tell how careful he's being; he doesn't want to do anything too aggressive or pushy and freak him out. ]
Come here, [ is quiet, coaxing. He runs a hand over his back. ]
[ The sudden loss of Bruce inside him has Barry whine when the man pulls out, hand reaching out to brace himself on on the bed. He'd felt so full and stretched and good and now, he doesn't. He wonders if it's because of Bruce or if it just always feels that way after but, either way, he finds himself rocking back with his hips for a moment before glances over his shoulder and catches sight of Bruce peeling that condom off.
Four times coming in one night β he's tired β even with the sort of hyper metabolism that he has. Yet even with (finally) feeling a little more sluggish, he still finds himself wanting what he had asked of Bruce earlier and it's why he shifts about when Bruce asks him to come... again. Differently this time.
Twisting around, fingers reach out for that cock he's become so well acquainted with tonight and he strokes it with a hum on his lips, lazy brown eyes looking up to Bruce as he does. Rather than say anything, he wraps those shiny lips around the head of that cock and sucks with an eagerness that's wet and lewd. It doesn't take him long before he's sliding those lips down that cock and taking him into his mouth just like he'd done on the couch earlier. Quicker. Harder. Cheeks hollowed as he sucks on the very cock that had just been inside his ass a few moments ago. Fingers press at the base of his shaft, holding Bruce there as he fucks his mouth on that cock with slutty little sounds, slurping and drooling saliva all over him as he tries to get Bruce to give in and give him what he wants.
Flicking his gaze up to the man as he does, he pleads with him through those soft brown eyes. Mouth stretched, pinpricks of water at the edges of his eyes with how much he keeps taking in. Tell him he feels good, Bruce, and give him all your cum for being so good. ]
[ For a moment he's practically frozen, and not because of any weird hangups about receiving oral. (Though hey it's a good thing they used a condom after all if it's going in this order!!) (And there is a spark of that, somewhere far away; the position is particularly imbalanced. But Barry has wiggled in beneath some plate of armor or another.) He's so strung out and it took so much focus to stop fucking him that it takes him another second to re-engage.
But when he does.
Bruce says something, maybe an aborted swear word, that comes out little more than a choke of sound an air. Both hands clutch at Barry's hair before he forces himself to stop pulling to hard, one hand moving around to cradle his throat. ]
I can't really, [ he says, but doesn't finish the thought, finding himself slammed to the edge again like getting punched in the gut. I can't really last, perhaps. It won't take much.
Obviously.
He gasps, ] Barry.
[ His orgasm shoots through him, erasing all thought in a bright lance of sensation, spilling hot and hard into the younger man's mouth. It feels like it goes on and on, pulsing against him, a spasm wracking up his entire spine. He has to not grab his hair like that. Fuck. It's so good he's not sure where he is for a second. ]
[ Hearing his name on Bruce's lips like that is somehow everything some part of him wants. That dirty, filthy, slutty side of him that wants nothing more than to fuck and be fucked by the other man until he can barely remember his name anymore, but also the sweeter and softly awkward side of him that longs for some sort of emotional connection with another or, at the very least, with someone who maybe understands what it's like to carry a heavy amount of guilt on one's shoulders. Both sides lap up the way he says his name and he worries, in a way, that he's now been shot through the heart and there's no turning back anymore.
Those fingers in his hair cause a chill of excitement to run up his spine and when Bruce comes for a second time that night, as eager as Barry is for it, it still catches him a little by surprise, mostly because of how much and heavy it is.
Eyes squeeze shut the moment Bruce spills his load into his mouth and, admittedly, he chokes on him. Just for a second. For as quickly as he tries to swallow up everything that he's given, he finds it to be too much too quick and he so he pulls back a little, letting most of it coat his tongue instead. He moans as he takes it, as he drinks up what he's given while looking up to Bruce, eyes glassy and wide despite the pinprick of tears there. It's fine, he loves it and wants it.
When he finds he can't take anymore without feeling the need to choke again, he pulls back and lets the rest of that load spill over his shiny lips, painting across his mouth and chin in a mess of white. He strokes him, pumping Bruce for everything that he's got and hums as a few more drops splash onto his hanging tongue, licking over his lips as fingers brush that sticky mess down Bruce's cock.
It's only when he feels as if he's managed to milk everything out of Bruce that he finally lets himself fall back against the bed and sighs. Exhausted but pleased, lips shiny and covered in the mess that Bruce has fed him, Barry too tired to even bother wiping his face clean. Instead, he just lays there's, eyes lazy and staring at the ceiling as he breathes. Slow and steady. Sexually exhausted after four orgasms. ]
[ He's been turned on since Barry sucked him off downstairs. Accidental edging, making this orgasm something else. In a moment he'll feel a pang of guilt for that choke, but probably be too tired to dwell on it. (Fortunately?)
He blinks at the sunlight, which has somehow happened. Brain offline.
Bruce comes down to earth, and also to the bed, crawling over Barry and settling in with him, moving right away to kiss him and eat his own come out of his mouth, lick in broad stripes over his chin and cheeks. Feeding it back to him through more kisses. He shuffles them partly on their sides so that he can cup his ass and squeeze him gently, hopefully soothingly. ]
You're so good, [ he says against his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to him. And he is. Bruce can't remember the last time he was with someone so giving, and he hopes desperately that Barry's enjoyed himself. As his mind congeals back to functional levels, he notes that this might have been a bit much for a first time, but on the other handβ fuck it. If their positions were reversed he'd have preferred this to nervously fumbling after hours in gym class. With any luck, Barry feels the same. (And hey, there's still time, if he's really going to college. All experiences can be experienced.) ]
[ If he weren't so sexually exhausted at the moment, he might have found the whole Bruce cleaning him up with his tongue thing to be hot and a turn on. Instead, all he offers in the way of those kisses and touches are soft little hums of appreciation as lips lazily brush back over the other man's whenever he seeks to steal a kiss from them.
He shifts when Bruce silently asks him to and hums again to himself as he settles there beside the other man. Skin flushed, covered in a sheen of sweat, hair a mess, and body aching in such a good way, he smiles at the way Bruce touches him, that soft kiss as welcome as all the others have been. ]
Yeah. [ The word is soft, like a whisper almost, before he lets his eyes fall shut and his head nuzzles at Bruce. ] Just... hungry.
[ A huff of laughter, he tilts his head up then, lips brushing over Bruce's chin for a soft kiss. He's more or less burned up all his energy with having come four times in one night and is now lazy and tired and unable to do much more than just lay there with the other man in bed. It's fine though as he really has no where else to be right now and likes to think four times in one night is pretty good. Really good, in his opinion.
Letting a leg brush and tangle between Bruce's, eyes lazily flutter open as he lays there beside him, searching his face before a smile softly touches his lips. ]
[ Bruce is definitely pleased with himself for getting Barry to an exhausted state. One and done is almost never his preferred type of encounter anyway, and to be able to spend this time with someone, watch him climax over and over... pretty fucking excellent, actually. He presses a kiss to his forehead, much sweeter than all that clean-up. ]
Do you need anything right now?
[ Water, food, calories. Is Barry going to wither away without pizza? That would be unfortunate. In the pool of warm morning light, he looks ruddy and flushed, dusted in gold. Do not wither away pls.
But, thinking of the light, Bruce shuffles forward a bit to do another lean, producing his phone from somewhere just stage left. A moment later and the smartwindows dim, filtering out the sun. He's used to sleeping through daylight, habitually nocturnal as he is, but he doubts it's the same for Barry. Not pitch black (he'd have to drag the curtains around the whole cube for that), but gray and cozy.
Also he may be doing something else with the phone, but To Be Continued (Maybe) on that one. ]
[ The kiss to his forehead is sweet and it has the lazy speedster hum a little in appreciation for it. Because he does appreciate how soft and gentle Bruce can be after All Of That. It had been great β amazing. The best sex he's ever had in his life but the fact that Bruce doesn't pull away or go off to do whatever in the batcave while he letse the speedster just chill there in his bed is... nice. Really nice and sweet and Barry feels all sorts of ways in his blissed out and lazy state. Careful, Bruce. Might be difficult to try and get rid of this one. ]
Can you call in sick for me? [ A stretch, he whines before he rolls onto his stomach, arm tucked under his head. ] Just kidding. I don't work tomorrow β today? Whatever.
[ Who knows what time it is anymore, especially what with Bruce dimming the room some with his nifty little remote. Barry appreciates it, of course, finding it much easier to sleep when there's less light around him which is what he intends to do. Eventually.
Reaching out with his other arm, he gently ghosts the tips of his fingers along the other man's arm and he smiles a little, cheek pressed into his own arm. Just feeling the need to reach out and touch him and remind himself he's real. That all of this has been very very real. ]
[ Go off and do what, where? Hey, Bruce has been here and been involved, for the past some hours, he also needs to take a nap. He tosses the phone aside and settles back down, looking over at Barry. He can't help but reach out and stroke a hand over his back, resting it there, thumb rubbing minutely.
Wouldn't it be nice, if he weren't totally terrified to curl up with someone and sleep. The nightmares, is the thing. He's trained himself to sleep a few feet apart, to stop himself from doing anything beyond bolting out of bed, but he still worries. There's a kind of greed in his touch but he doesn't push further, not wanting to risk doing something awful, if one of those dreams takes him.
Until Barry falls asleep, this'll be alright. ]
You can stay as long as you want, [ he tells him, quiet and sincere. ]
[ When Bruce reassures him of his being able to stay here for the night (morning?), Barry finds himself sweetly smiling at that. He doesn't want to say he figured as much or didn't think Bruce the type to have this wild almost nonstop sex for the past however many hours it's been, only to tell him to take a hike after. But it's nice to hear. Nice to feel that he's wanted here. ]
You say things like that and you might end up being stuck with me.
[ The laugh that spills from his lips is soft and playful but lazy at the same time. His body aches in such a wonderfully satisfied way and despite his accelerated healing, it's a sort of exhaustion that he doesn't mind having it take its time to leave him.
He shifts then, lazy, scooting in a bit closer to the other man and letting an arm drape around his middle, Barry's head dropping down to Bruce's chest. If the guy isn't going to scoot in, then Barry will do it and unless Bruce gets all what are you doing?? on him, he doesn't intend to move. At least not anytime soon. ]
You tired me out so good. [ He murmurs. ] I'm gonna eat everything in your house when I can get up.
[ He's torn for a moment, but ultimately decides to let Barry stay where he is, and carefully curl his arms around him. He can still detangle after he falls asleep; this feels too nice, for now. (What if he jerks awake and scares a partner? What if, god forbid, he panics and hits someone, feeling claustrophobic after a moment of horror?)
Another kiss to the top of Barry's head. ]
Alright. [ Stay. Nothing lasts, Bruce knows he's too strange and too dismal for anyone to put up with for an extended engagement. But he'll be here for Barry as long as he wants. ] Sleep.
[ Or Else.
Bruce is good to sleep beside, at least. He doesn't snore, his heartbeat is slow and steady, and while cuddling, he has some expansive tracts of land to snuggle against. He does indeed wait until Barry is out to withdraw, give himself some space, tuck a blanket around the younger man, and then catch a few hours for himself.
It's still early afternoon when he wakes up, unable to stay down for long. He checks on Barry, runs a hand over his hair and watches him for a moment, before getting up. Ordinary things. Shower. Setting out a toothbrush for Barry later. Checking all his security feeds. Texting Alfred, who has taken the liberty of going into the city. He starts coffee in the shotgun kitchen and then fishes Barry's phone out of his discarded clothes, setting it on the drawer beside the bed so that he can put a small note on it. Bruce is preternaturally silent as he goes about his business, the sound of the water shifting in the gentle breeze outside louder than he is. The note is crisp and neatly folded.
Had to pick something up at the gate, be back.
Just in case. He doesn't want to make him feel ditched, in case he wakes up the second he sets foot outside.
It's a little while before he returns. Bit of a walk, there and back, and he makes the return hike with an oversized catering bag slung over his shoulder, which he takes (just as quietly) to the kitchen. Where coffee is blessedly ready. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
He wants to.
It's just rough.
In the here and now: Bruce leans forward to kiss Barry's cheek (the one on his face), and then ducks lower to press another to his shoulder. Alright, alright. He sits up and hums something thoughtful-sounding, and tugs at his rim with the pads of his fingers, all calloused from work and violence. ]
I think I have to fuck you, [ he admits, just working that hole, getting him open. Not pushing in deep enough to stimulate his prostate. He hitches Barry up a little so that he can get a hand under him and pet his cock up against his belly, giving him another sensation with it. ] Do you like knowing that. I could watch you come until it's dark out again. But you're driving me crazy, too.
[ He lets his cock brush against his backside, and then pulls his fingers out so he can direct the crown to his wet hole, just kissing it with the tip. Rubbing it, teasing, almost pushing in. There's white fluid leaking from the slit, eager, needy. It makes him shiver. He has to pull back, then, and get Barry up properly onto his knees. ]
Feeling okay?
[ Good thing he asked. Bruce blinks and feels like a fuckin idiot for a second before he swears under his breath and leans back over to the side table. Condom, oops. He pinches Barry's ass, mutters, ] Distracting me.
no subject
When he's pulled to his knees, his breath hitches, cheeks flushed and skin tingling with an anticipation of being filled with the man's cock. Wondering just how much he'll be stretched, how tight he'll feel for Bruce, how good it'll be to have the head of that cock hitting his prostrate over and over again instead of curled fingers rubbing at it teasingly. Hoping that he'll be good for Bruce β not a disappointing fuck β and that he'll want to do this again sometime. Be it fucking him down into the mattress, getting him off until he can't anymore, or letting him get sucked off as many times as he can go. Barry can't help but hope he'll be enough for any of that again with Bruce, even if they've both said they don't want to forget.
He relaxes his muscles, lets his eyes fall shut and lips to part with a gentle breath when... cursing? He swears he hears Bruce curse and he glances back over his shoulder a little dazed and confused. ]
What'sβ [ But before he can even ask, his ass is pinched and he catches sight of what the other man slipped away for. ] Oh.
[ Bruce is careful in more ways than one it seems. Granted, he figures the man has slept with... numerous people in his time, so. He can't blame him. Never mind risk of disease and all that. It's appreciated? That he cares so much. Scratch the image of Bruce coming on his face out of his head though. At least for now. ]
What a gentleman.
[ He teases softly, swaying his hips from side to side nice and slow as he smiles to him over his shoulder. ]
no subject
Crack. Bruce smacks his butt again, this time with just enough force behind it to make that comically loud sound. Skilled enough not to make it hurt, though. ]
You should be in the habit of it. [ Brat. Bruce gives him a flat look that's ruined by how flushed and dishevelled he is, dick peeking up from between his legs, practically attempting to reach the moon it's been so long. ] If you want me to skip it, you can ask next time.
[ This time he's getting railed responsibly.
Sort of.
Bruce gets the condom on and slicks it up, then leans up one last time to coax Barry into a kiss and tug one of the pillows over, just in case the angle ends up too much for him in a few minutes. Back in position, there's little fanfare for how he nudges the head of his cock against him with a purpose. Gentle but firm. ]
Breathe slow, [ he advises, keen observation on any potential flinch or tense, as he pushes in. It feels so good he has to stop for a second, though it's more to reel himself in from the kneejerk desire to immediately back out and savor that initial clench again right on the tip. He gives him a few inches, hands a steady presence on his hips, going until he feels tension and then stops, backing off, giving him shallow, rocking pushes, just loosening him up, letting him get used to it. ]
no subject
The advice to breathe slow is shown to be heard with a gentle nod of his head, but when he feels the nudge of that cock at his hole, he seemingly forgets for a moment and his breath hitches with a gasp.
Fingers twist in the sheets beneath him, Barry's face scrunching up before eyes fall shut and his head falls between his shoulders. Feeling the way he stretches around that cock as it sinks itself into him... it's big and it's thick and it almost feels as if he can't take it all. But he breathes β slow β a strangled little whine spilling from his lips as he sinks teeth into his bottom lip and lets himself be filled. Lets Bruce slide into him with those shallow rocks of his hips. For a moment, one arm gives out a little and Barry moans, pressing his face into his bicep, righting himself after a couple seconds. ]
More. [ He breathes then, eyes fluttering open, mouth dry as he swallows. ] Want more of you. Please.
no subject
Fuck, [ is a lush sigh. ] You feel.
[ Perfect, really.
He rubs Barry's tailbone soothingly, and helps keep him up, the hand still at one hip clenching tighter in a tell about how much Bruce is feeling it, too. The desire to let loose and fuck into him without restrain is there, animal instinct lurking in him. He gives him more, as asked, sliding in deep, deeper, but not holding there. Drawing back, then in again. After a few thrusts he pauses with his cock buried there, letting Barry feel it, stretched and full. He doesn't try and force his whole length in and risk hurting him, the weight of his balls only just barely brushing his ass. He flexes his hands on him, restless. He's so hot, and sweet. Bruce knows he's pressing heavy and hard past all those nerve endings, rubbing over the gland tucked away at the base of his cock, stretching his muscles in an aching burn.
Experimentally, he rocks his hips in short circles, still stuffed in deep. Keeping careful attention on Barry's reactions even as he feels sweat drip down his chest. ]
no subject
The way Bruce takes his time in getting him used to how it feels to be fed his cock is appreciated β sweet? The man could push him down and fuck him relentlessly into the mattress and Barry would let him if it meant they'd both feel good. The amount of trust he has for the man is rather large when it comes to people in Barry's life and while he may not have the full experience with being dicked down by another man, this feels right to him. The way Bruce handles him and this moment feels right and he's so appreciative of it and of him.
Catching (deeper) feelings for a man with his cock in your ass is probably not the best time to decide to do so, but. Barry is always Barry.
Again, his head drops between his shoulders, fingers twisting in the sheets beneath him. Bruce feels so big inside him that he almost wonders how he was able to take any of this in his mouth to begin with. Or maybe this is the Final Boss and he's only now seen his True Form in size now that they're actually fucking and all. Nerdy thoughts that quickly zip through his head before he's back to staring down at the sheets he so tightly grips.
Swallowing, he makes a soft sound of acknowledgment of those hips rocking against him as they do and he presses back against the other man, nice and slow, encouraging him that this is what he wants. ]
Good... [ He breathes out, a whine on his lips. ] You're so good.
[ Offering the praise, he cants his head to the side, before he chuckles a little to himself, pushing back again against those hips and onto that cock. ]
Fuck me, Bruce. I wanna be fucked by you.
no subject
It's easy to excuse bad sex with someone you care for, and then be doubly bitter later when the care bleeds out. This way he gets a souvenir even if (even when, more likely, this is Bruce we're talking here) things go sour. And as aforementioned, Bruce really likes it. He loves this, wringing more out of him, winning those noises, and squirms, and greedy pushes back. ]
That's what's happening, [ he assures him with a low rumble, and rubs circles on his hips before getting a better grip. He snaps his pelvis forward, light, practically bouncing his cock in. A few quick thrusts, then, seeing how Barry takes it. Christ. He just wants to stay buried, he's so tight and hot. Bruce pulls back, careful not to go all the way so the condom doesn't get fucked up, and then in again, a long, full slide, letting him feel the whole length of him all over again, ending on a quick jab, punctuated by the wet sound of flesh meeting. ]
Feel good? [ Bruce pulls at his hips, fucks into him, doesn't pause after that question. Building more, the glide of it getting easier. Still leashed and in control, but on edge. He grunts, head tipped back. Mmnpphhfuck. ]
no subject
[ The way his eyes roll back into his head and the slutty little sounds he makes as he fucks himself back on Bruce's cock... this is what he wants. This is what he needs. This is what he's been craving the moment he and Bruce first kissed back on that couch however long ago that was now. All of this has a tendency to just bleed together for the speedster, where the only thing he does know is that Bruce feels so good touching him, kissing him, fucking him in his bed like this. He's so glad he sent that text message off now.
Feeling the way that cock slides into him stirs something up in Barry every time Bruce gives it to him and it has him feeling filthy in ways that might have him come off a little slutty, a little bit like a whore in heat, but he doesn't seem to care. The only thing he does care about is fucking himself back on the cock and letting it fuck him as hard and deep as Bruce wants. ]
Your dick is so good. [ Words that drip from parted lips as he drops himself down onto his elbows, hips still up for Bruce to keep taking him from behind. ] Taking it so good.
[ Head hung between his shoulders, he moans. Loud. In fact, he finds he can't stop moaning as he rocks himself back against Bruce, arms coming to slide out from under him and drop his upper half down against the bed. Head down, ass up.
The desperate little whines of yes that he chants over and over again to himself are filthy and sweet in how genuine he means them. A mantra to the cock that feeds him this pleasure. Pleasure which his own cock bouncing against his stomach desperately wants and so he reaches between his own legs and strokes himself, gasping a little louder as he does. ]
no subject
(And who doesn't want to hear Your dick is so good? The kind of thing you want to get printed on t-shirts.)
This position isn't the greatest for getting his hand on Barry's cock, at this sort of speed, so it's good that the younger man is taking initiative; though Bruce does have a moment where he thinks about pulling off just to flip him over and do it himself, bizarrely possessive in the midst of fucking. Happens. Moments likes that. Like this, too: ego-saving relief about the condom has already shifted to lizard-brain regret, wanting to fill him with cum, hot and filthy. But, his rational, tactical brain will think later, it's just one new layer of something else to try, if Barry ever wants more. Skin on skin and getting filled up.
(If he everβ
Bruce can hope. Can't he?)
He curls over his back, shifting his knees wider, pressing Barry down into himself and grinding into him, humping him deep and hard while barely pulling back. A heavy fuck that can't be sustained indefinitely, but feels so good while it goes. He's making low, rough sounds on every exhale, and he clutches at one of Barry's biceps, just holding him. ]
no subject
I'm such a slut β I love it. Love being fucked by you. [ Fingers twist and tug at the sheets, Barry pressing down against his arm, mouth hanging open as he buries his head in the sheets, until he's able to push himself up and throw his head back. Gasping. ] Don't want anyone else's cock but yours.
[ Barry glances back over his shoulder and pushes himself back onto the other man's cock a little harder. A little quicker. Watching the way he makes himself take it with glassy eyes and mouth hanging open. He really does love this. Love how it feels to be fucked and filled with the thickness of Bruce's cock that he's wanted all night and only now is being rewarded for being such a good boy with coming three times already. Bruce's cock is his treat for the night and Barry savors every single second of it.
When Bruce curls over him, Barry moans as he's forced to the mattress and whines at the deep and hard fucking he's given. The words yes, yes, yes β oh fuck yes leave his lips religiously as do slutty little whines, turning his head to try and nuzzle and kiss at Bruce wherever he can. ] Want you to come in my mouth. Want you on my face. I wanna be marked by you. Please.
[ A slutty little request he breathes back at Bruce, feeling his own orgasm about to hit him for the fourth time tonight. ]
I've been so good β please.
no subject
is not the right thing to say.
Especially considering how much it's doing for him. Bruce isn't used to hearing much chatter during sex that doesn't skew towards demoralizing or goading. Wild, this sleeping with nice people thing. Maybe he needs to re-evaluate his type of preferred partner.
He meets Barry's messy kisses, bordering on mindless as he fucks him, rutting artlessly as he's pinned between him and the bed. Coordination seems like a too-far goal for a long moment, in which his only response is a groan that borders on a growl. Maybe he'll deny that, and just keep Barry here, immobile, and simply take.
Too much control for that, even if it's hanging on by a thread. Bruce sinks his teeth into Barry's shoulder as he slows down, just a rolling, deep grind for a moment before he stills entirely to push up on his knees, hauling Barry with him. It's a flipped mirror of how he'd held him before they started, except now the younger man is speared on his cock, his back pressed to Bruce's chest, suddenly upright. One strong arm holds him across his chest to get him in place without risk of sending either of them toppling over, the other moving to let him take Barry's cock in his hand. ]
You have to come first, [ Bruce tells him, low and dark against his ear. ] I want to feel you come on my cock, get so tight, fall apart. Look.
[ In the greyish morning light, fog from the lake surrounding them, a faint reflection is sketched into the windows. Bruce strokes his cock, snaps his hips up. And again. ]
no subject
Fingers curl around Bruce's wrist β needing to just touch him in some way β gripping tight as he continues to moan for him. That's when he suddenly finds himself hauled off the mattress and onto his knees, head spinning in a hazy blur of blissed out confusion. At first, he thinks Bruce is about to pull out and there's a sound of heavy protest there on his lips at the thought. But when he feels that arm stretch across his chest and that hand begin to pump his cock, he relaxes β leans back into the other man, breath hitching at the new position with a face flushed and sweaty.
Then... those words.
Despite the filth that's spilled from his mouth, there's something about seeing the faint blur of his reflection in the windows that makes him feel shy. A sexual dreaminess to the way his reflection looks with Bruce behind him there, fucking him with sharp snaps of his hips, Barry still holds tight to the other man's wrist with his fingers, and he swallows down a whimper as he hangs his head, barely watching the way Bruce pumps his cock with his hand. ]
I'm gonna come for you... just you. I wanna come for you.
[ Words he barely manages to string together as he knocks his head back and rolls his against Bruce's, eyes shut, lips parted, panting. A mess ready to unravel within this man's embrace. Which he does. With breaths becoming more quick, more shallow, and blunt nails digging into the skin at Bruce's wrist, he shudders as he tries to bite back the sounds bubbling to his lips, but fails, letting them out with a violent trembling of his body. He's been pretty good thus far at not being too loud in the three times he's come already, but this fourth time... he can't. It all comes out in a heady cry, head tilted back there against Bruce's shoulder as his fourth orgasm of the night hits him and it's the hardest of them all. Thick ropes of cum spurt from the head of his cock, coating Bruce's fingers and spilling to the sheets beneath them. Barry a vibrating mess against the man's chest as his eyes snap open then and he stares up to the ceiling in his bliss, unable to speak, unable to think, his mind a blank mess of nothing. All he can do is come and gasp and hold tight to Bruce's wrist for some sort of support through it all. ]
no subject
Doesn't. Stills and just clutches Barry instead, holding him and strokes his cock through it, marvelling at it. How long it goes on and how much of it there is, unbearably erotic. The way Barry moves, feeling it around his own stiff cock, still straining and desperate inside him, unbelievable. The hold he has around his chest seizes and he makes himself stop, not wanting to grab him too hard, but feeling a little insane being vibrated on.
Fuck.
Bruce stays like that, stroking him until he's got nothing left, coaxing every last drop out and thinking it's almost a shame he's not in a position to clean him up with his mouth. Trying to center himself so he doesn't come, clinging on to that request. He rubs over Barry's chest, and lower just above the root of his cock, nuzzling at his neck, panting. His cock twitches inside him, probably tangible even through the condom, and his breath catches. ]
no subject
Feeling the other man at his back like he is, Barry can't help but lean into him, feeling as if he might collapse from being sexually exhausted if he doesn't. Spent and in such a good way, he drops a hand down to stroke over his own cock and lets fingers get sticky with cum before he brings them up and presses them to Bruce's lips there at his neck, humming as he does. ]
I came so good for you.
[ Tired smile on his lips, he hums a little more to himself, swallowing as he rubs himself back against the other man, feeling the way that cock twitches inside him almost.
Reaching back, fingers card through Bruce's hair, Barry holding the back of the other man's head. With an almost delirious hum, he tilts his head back just enough to brush lips over Bruce's temple. ]
I wanna feel you come. I wanna taste you. Bruce.
[ The name is nothing more than a whisper against the man's skin, Barry scratching his fingers against the back of Bruce's head before he nuzzles him with nothing but pure adoration and affection for him. ]
no subject
Okay.
[ βis not actually dismissive. Possibly funny, considering he's holding so still with his cock practically halfway to Barry's esophagus from here, like, you know, it's cool, he's having a perfectly calm moment.
He smooths his hands lower, getting in another sensual touch, the insides of Barry's thighs, before he moves back up to touch his chest and then help him get back down on the bed properly. He exhales as he reaches between them to pull out, careful with the thin latex, which he then peels off to the tune of a low sound. Oof. A part of him abstractly wonders if Barry can tell how careful he's being; he doesn't want to do anything too aggressive or pushy and freak him out. ]
Come here, [ is quiet, coaxing. He runs a hand over his back. ]
no subject
Four times coming in one night β he's tired β even with the sort of hyper metabolism that he has. Yet even with (finally) feeling a little more sluggish, he still finds himself wanting what he had asked of Bruce earlier and it's why he shifts about when Bruce asks him to come... again. Differently this time.
Twisting around, fingers reach out for that cock he's become so well acquainted with tonight and he strokes it with a hum on his lips, lazy brown eyes looking up to Bruce as he does. Rather than say anything, he wraps those shiny lips around the head of that cock and sucks with an eagerness that's wet and lewd. It doesn't take him long before he's sliding those lips down that cock and taking him into his mouth just like he'd done on the couch earlier. Quicker. Harder. Cheeks hollowed as he sucks on the very cock that had just been inside his ass a few moments ago. Fingers press at the base of his shaft, holding Bruce there as he fucks his mouth on that cock with slutty little sounds, slurping and drooling saliva all over him as he tries to get Bruce to give in and give him what he wants.
Flicking his gaze up to the man as he does, he pleads with him through those soft brown eyes. Mouth stretched, pinpricks of water at the edges of his eyes with how much he keeps taking in. Tell him he feels good, Bruce, and give him all your cum for being so good. ]
no subject
But when he does.
Bruce says something, maybe an aborted swear word, that comes out little more than a choke of sound an air. Both hands clutch at Barry's hair before he forces himself to stop pulling to hard, one hand moving around to cradle his throat. ]
I can't really, [ he says, but doesn't finish the thought, finding himself slammed to the edge again like getting punched in the gut. I can't really last, perhaps. It won't take much.
Obviously.
He gasps, ] Barry.
[ His orgasm shoots through him, erasing all thought in a bright lance of sensation, spilling hot and hard into the younger man's mouth. It feels like it goes on and on, pulsing against him, a spasm wracking up his entire spine. He has to not grab his hair like that. Fuck. It's so good he's not sure where he is for a second. ]
no subject
Those fingers in his hair cause a chill of excitement to run up his spine and when Bruce comes for a second time that night, as eager as Barry is for it, it still catches him a little by surprise, mostly because of how much and heavy it is.
Eyes squeeze shut the moment Bruce spills his load into his mouth and, admittedly, he chokes on him. Just for a second. For as quickly as he tries to swallow up everything that he's given, he finds it to be too much too quick and he so he pulls back a little, letting most of it coat his tongue instead. He moans as he takes it, as he drinks up what he's given while looking up to Bruce, eyes glassy and wide despite the pinprick of tears there. It's fine, he loves it and wants it.
When he finds he can't take anymore without feeling the need to choke again, he pulls back and lets the rest of that load spill over his shiny lips, painting across his mouth and chin in a mess of white. He strokes him, pumping Bruce for everything that he's got and hums as a few more drops splash onto his hanging tongue, licking over his lips as fingers brush that sticky mess down Bruce's cock.
It's only when he feels as if he's managed to milk everything out of Bruce that he finally lets himself fall back against the bed and sighs. Exhausted but pleased, lips shiny and covered in the mess that Bruce has fed him, Barry too tired to even bother wiping his face clean. Instead, he just lays there's, eyes lazy and staring at the ceiling as he breathes. Slow and steady. Sexually exhausted after four orgasms. ]
no subject
He blinks at the sunlight, which has somehow happened. Brain offline.
Bruce comes down to earth, and also to the bed, crawling over Barry and settling in with him, moving right away to kiss him and eat his own come out of his mouth, lick in broad stripes over his chin and cheeks. Feeding it back to him through more kisses. He shuffles them partly on their sides so that he can cup his ass and squeeze him gently, hopefully soothingly. ]
You're so good, [ he says against his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to him. And he is. Bruce can't remember the last time he was with someone so giving, and he hopes desperately that Barry's enjoyed himself. As his mind congeals back to functional levels, he notes that this might have been a bit much for a first time, but on the other handβ fuck it. If their positions were reversed he'd have preferred this to nervously fumbling after hours in gym class. With any luck, Barry feels the same. (And hey, there's still time, if he's really going to college. All experiences can be experienced.) ]
You okay?
no subject
He shifts when Bruce silently asks him to and hums again to himself as he settles there beside the other man. Skin flushed, covered in a sheen of sweat, hair a mess, and body aching in such a good way, he smiles at the way Bruce touches him, that soft kiss as welcome as all the others have been. ]
Yeah. [ The word is soft, like a whisper almost, before he lets his eyes fall shut and his head nuzzles at Bruce. ] Just... hungry.
[ A huff of laughter, he tilts his head up then, lips brushing over Bruce's chin for a soft kiss. He's more or less burned up all his energy with having come four times in one night and is now lazy and tired and unable to do much more than just lay there with the other man in bed. It's fine though as he really has no where else to be right now and likes to think four times in one night is pretty good. Really good, in his opinion.
Letting a leg brush and tangle between Bruce's, eyes lazily flutter open as he lays there beside him, searching his face before a smile softly touches his lips. ]
You were better than in my fantasies.
no subject
Do you need anything right now?
[ Water, food, calories. Is Barry going to wither away without pizza? That would be unfortunate. In the pool of warm morning light, he looks ruddy and flushed, dusted in gold. Do not wither away pls.
But, thinking of the light, Bruce shuffles forward a bit to do another lean, producing his phone from somewhere just stage left. A moment later and the smartwindows dim, filtering out the sun. He's used to sleeping through daylight, habitually nocturnal as he is, but he doubts it's the same for Barry. Not pitch black (he'd have to drag the curtains around the whole cube for that), but gray and cozy.
Also he may be doing something else with the phone, but To Be Continued (Maybe) on that one. ]
no subject
Can you call in sick for me? [ A stretch, he whines before he rolls onto his stomach, arm tucked under his head. ] Just kidding. I don't work tomorrow β today? Whatever.
[ Who knows what time it is anymore, especially what with Bruce dimming the room some with his nifty little remote. Barry appreciates it, of course, finding it much easier to sleep when there's less light around him which is what he intends to do. Eventually.
Reaching out with his other arm, he gently ghosts the tips of his fingers along the other man's arm and he smiles a little, cheek pressed into his own arm. Just feeling the need to reach out and touch him and remind himself he's real. That all of this has been very very real. ]
no subject
Wouldn't it be nice, if he weren't totally terrified to curl up with someone and sleep. The nightmares, is the thing. He's trained himself to sleep a few feet apart, to stop himself from doing anything beyond bolting out of bed, but he still worries. There's a kind of greed in his touch but he doesn't push further, not wanting to risk doing something awful, if one of those dreams takes him.
Until Barry falls asleep, this'll be alright. ]
You can stay as long as you want, [ he tells him, quiet and sincere. ]
no subject
You say things like that and you might end up being stuck with me.
[ The laugh that spills from his lips is soft and playful but lazy at the same time. His body aches in such a wonderfully satisfied way and despite his accelerated healing, it's a sort of exhaustion that he doesn't mind having it take its time to leave him.
He shifts then, lazy, scooting in a bit closer to the other man and letting an arm drape around his middle, Barry's head dropping down to Bruce's chest. If the guy isn't going to scoot in, then Barry will do it and unless Bruce gets all what are you doing?? on him, he doesn't intend to move. At least not anytime soon. ]
You tired me out so good. [ He murmurs. ] I'm gonna eat everything in your house when I can get up.
no subject
Another kiss to the top of Barry's head. ]
Alright. [ Stay. Nothing lasts, Bruce knows he's too strange and too dismal for anyone to put up with for an extended engagement. But he'll be here for Barry as long as he wants. ] Sleep.
[ Or Else.
Bruce is good to sleep beside, at least. He doesn't snore, his heartbeat is slow and steady, and while cuddling, he has some expansive tracts of land to snuggle against. He does indeed wait until Barry is out to withdraw, give himself some space, tuck a blanket around the younger man, and then catch a few hours for himself.
It's still early afternoon when he wakes up, unable to stay down for long. He checks on Barry, runs a hand over his hair and watches him for a moment, before getting up. Ordinary things. Shower. Setting out a toothbrush for Barry later. Checking all his security feeds. Texting Alfred, who has taken the liberty of going into the city. He starts coffee in the shotgun kitchen and then fishes Barry's phone out of his discarded clothes, setting it on the drawer beside the bed so that he can put a small note on it. Bruce is preternaturally silent as he goes about his business, the sound of the water shifting in the gentle breeze outside louder than he is. The note is crisp and neatly folded.
Had to pick something up at the gate, be back.
Just in case. He doesn't want to make him feel ditched, in case he wakes up the second he sets foot outside.
It's a little while before he returns. Bit of a walk, there and back, and he makes the return hike with an oversized catering bag slung over his shoulder, which he takes (just as quietly) to the kitchen. Where coffee is blessedly ready. ]
(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)
(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)
(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)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)