[ 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. ]
[ Throughout the night morning, Barry sleeps without much movement to be had. He hadn't been joking when he had said that Bruce had tired him out. It's been a hot minute since he's been so exhausted like that that he just wants to pass out β that he does go and pass out within a matter of seconds. But with how much physical activity they had gotten up to over the course of however many hours it had been and the only meal he had had being the denny's diner food and milkshake from earlier on in the night as fuel for his hyper metabolism... suffice to say, he'd run out of that fuel and needed to replenish it with sleep.
So, he had gone out like a light, not even feeling when Bruce had slipped away from him.
When he does come to wake, it's in a tangle of those sheets that feel so cool against his bare legs, covered just so slightly with them with a blanket tucked around him. He's curled into the center of the bed a little, his brain taking a couple seconds to reboot it all up before he's lazily blinking his eyes open... and jolts up in bed with a start. ]
Oh my godβ what day is it?
[ Frantic, he looks around to find that he's not in his own bed and for half a second, he's wondering just where the hell he is before it all catches up to him. Bruce. He's at Bruce's. In his bed. Last night. Right. Fingers carding through the mess that is his hair, he dives across the bed for his phone, knocking the little note off as he checks the date and time there on the lock screen and... he's not working. It's a weekend. Day off. Crisis averted.
The sigh he gives is a heavy one of relief and he faceplants into the mattress. It's only after a moment that he peeks over the edge of the bed and sees the note he'd knocked off, fingers plucking it from the floor. Pressing it open with two of his fingers, he smiles a bit when he sees what's scribbled there and, again, sighs, rolling over onto his back with a lazy little groan as he does.
It's just a little after Bruce has come back from his wandering that Barry makes his presence known in the kitchen via tired little groans and feet shuffling away. He's wrapped up in the robe that had been taken off him... in the morning... and rubbing at his eye with the heel of a palm when he catches sight of Bruce. The smile he gives the man is sweet and lazy and he makes his way over for the first chair he sees to which he dramatically drapes himself over it, head resting there on his arm. ]
Hi. [ He murmurs, smiling despite his half upside-down look he's got going on. ] Afternoon? Definitely not good morning.
It's morning for me, [ he says, as he puts a large carton of eggs into the fridge. ] So good morning.
[ Seeing Barry like this, all muddled from sleep, wearing one of his robes, wandering around comfortablyβ pulls at something in him. They don't know what they're doing, and the only thing they've talked about is I don't want to forget, but Bruce can feel something dig in beneath the cage of his ribs anyway.
Maybe it's a metahuman superpower that the younger man has. ]
Coffee, or a breakfast sandwich? [ a beat, as he pulls something out of the large catering bag. ] I think that's what these are, anyway. Might be a burrito in there too.
[ There's expansive fodder for French toast or sandwiches or various egg creations; The Brunch Special from a service he uses, for about a dozen people. Some prepared items, but most of it they'll have to put together themselves. ]
[ Stretching himself out against that chair, he puffs out a sigh from round bulging cheeks before he comes to straighten himself up some, finger scratching at his nose as he does. ]
Coffee would probably have me vibrating through the floor, so... breakfast sandwich? What do you have in there?
[ Bare feet pad across the cool flooring as he makes his way over to Bruce, heavily leaning himself against the other man, cheek pressed to his arm. Peering in, his eyes light up when he sees the various assortment of food in the bag and he huffs a laugh as he reaches in to poke around a little, see what's really all in there. ]
Holy moly. This is like... a buffet to-go.
[ Just saying.
Taking one of the prepared items out of its packaging, he just goes and helps himself to it and hums in a pleased little way that just might sound familiar from hours ago. Straightening up, he looks down to the food as he chews a little thoughtfully before helping himself to another bite. ]
Oh my god, this tastes so good. I love food so much.
[ Bruce runs a hand up his back when Barry comes over and leans on him, enjoying the casual contact. He really is very cute. What'll happen when this life wears him down? Mm. Bruce curls his fingers against his side, brief, a small affectionate thing before he moves away to let him eat, and maybe get some distance from food sex noises before he ends up pushing him against the counter. ]
I didn't want you to waste away, [ he says, a smile tucked into his voice. ] Since all I actually had was protein shake stuff.
[ Tupperware full of pre-chopped vegetables, supplement powders, oat milk. The horror. After diner food and half a milkshake, Bruce is pretty sure he'll die unless he limits himself. ]
Unless you'd like one. [ :)? He holds up one said tupperware container, which jingles dully, full of dark green superfoods. Mmmm, kale. ]
[ Mouth full of something that isn't cock, Barry glances over when Bruce offers to fix him up a protein shake and gives a shake of his head, hand waving, a muffled laugh given with all that food in his mouth. ]
Bo danks.
[ Pausing, he actually takes a couple seconds there to swallow before he tries again. ]
Uh, I'm good. Thanks.
[ Huffing a laugh, he smiles to Bruce as he holds up his sandwich before he grabs a couple more from the catering bag and takes them with him over to that chair he had draped himself over earlier. The sound of foil and paper can be heard unwrapping as he goes about freeing the breakfast foods from their coverings, Barry finishing off the one in hand before he goes about starting on a second one, third one ready in his other hand. He really is a snackhole with the way he just attacks the sandwiches and wraps without even seeming to skip a beat in doing so.
Making sure he swallows again first, he looks up to Bruce then, eyes a little bright and curious as he does. ]
Um, so... what are your plans for the day? I mean... it's the weekend, right? You don't go into the office or something, right?
[ The smells of fancy brunch are quite alluring, but Bruce resists; dumping everything into a Vitamix and eyeballing the non-dairy milk. ]
Fortunately, I can pretty much do what I want, when it comes to my dayjob. Plug your ears. [ Vroom vroom goes the blender. It's somewhat earsplitting in contrast to the quiet lake house atmosphere, but doesn't last long, turning into a sickly green goop, which Bruce then proceeds to slime out into a large cup. ]
But I don't have any plans, no. Do you?
[ He drinks some of the smoothie, and then immediately swaps it for a long drink of black coffee, before moving back. No real pleasure in food happening for him, but at least he knows he won't puke or have some kind of blood sugar incident later. His measly human body has to be kept at a certain level of performance or being Batman is a lot less fun.
The catering bag is empty now, everything put away or snagged by Barry, so he sets it on the floor against the windows, and goes to sit by the speedster. Everything in here is ultra-modern and overly expensive, but at least it's all comfortable, despite the minimal design.
(Just don't... look at the only extant decor, a heavy black Italian urn floating on a display stand near the desk by the door. Like, Bruce, why is everything a dead person.) ]
[ When Bruce comes to sit near him, Barry licks over his lips and offers the man a smile, second sandwich done and now moving onto his wrap. ]
Uh, no. It's the weekend and I have those off with my job, so. [ A small shrug of his shoulders, he takes another bite, chewing for a moment before he looks over to Bruce. ] Good thing last night wasn't Sunday, you know?
[ Or else he'd definitely be zipping out of here and heading back to Central City in a flash.
There's a sort of silence that falls over them as they sit there, Barry focused on cramming as much food into his mouth as he can to refuel himself from their strenuous physical activities last night. If they end up doing this again, he almost thinks to maybe ask for a catering bag like this to be purchased in advance so that he has something he can quickly snack on when he's finally feeling depleted in energy.
Of course, that just brings him to those thoughts of... what now what with the afternoon having come and all.
Bruce had said he didn't want to forget and Barry had said the same. He meant it then in the shower and he means it now, right here in the kitchen with the other man near him, but. Does he bring that up? Do they just agree that yeah, they fucked a few times in one night, and just leave it at that? Not entirely forgetting or denying such a thing happened, but not indulging in anything beyond those handful of hours? He doesn't know β doesn't know what Bruce wants and it has him sitting there a little deep in thought for a moment before he finishes off the wrap he'd been holding and looks around for some napkins to wipe his hands on. ]
Um, so... were you just planning to... hang around here or something? Like chill or whatever?
[ Bruce and chill... he's hilarious without even trying to be. ]
[ There are black fabric napkins discreetly sitting on the coffee table, which Bruce hands over. In a very chill way. Check out how chill he is. He buys himself some time by chugging his smoothie, in the interests of getting rid of it so that he can enjoy his scalding caffeine.
What the fuck to say. Probably not mustering up an offer to fuck again; despite having no speed force metabolism, Bruce is a highly sexually motivated person, and when the opportunity arises it's hard to make that voice shut up. But no, that's a little weird. And so is saying something terminally awkward like 'well, you said you hadn't done that before, so I didn't want to leave you alone because it can make a person feel vulnerable', because oh my god.
He finishes his superfood smush, holds the cup between long fingers, considers the younger man.
Finally, ]
I don't know.
[ welp ]
I haven't stayed until after for.. years, now, I think the last person I spent any real time with was the woman I almost married. [ He moves the empty cup around, implying a shrug. Sucks to suck, Bruce. ] I didn't want to leave you alone, and I didn't feel like being alone. I don't have any ideas past that.
[ At the quiet admission and confession, Barry gently lets his gaze drift over to Bruce from his seat there at the counter. He's glad that the other man hadn't just dipped out β which, ok. He lives here, sure. But that doesn't mean he couldn't have left a note saying he needed to go out, something something signatures needed, forgot stuff at some place I own, etc. He could easily make up any excuse to slip out and tell Barry he was free to shower and eat whatever before heading back to Central City... but he hadn't and the younger man appreciates that for a number of reasons.
It's just now, like Bruce admits, he's not all that sure what to do with this moment here between them after it all. It's one he knew was going to come, even from the moment they first kissed on that couch. He knew "tomorrow would come" and they'd have to deal with however they felt after it all, just... it sort of sucks? To not know or to feel as if you're tip-toeing around it, unsure if something might rock the boat in a way that could make things awkward.
But they both don't want to forget. He remembers that so clearly.
After a moment and another glance given to the man out of the corner of his eye, he gently reaches out to touch his wrist and with a bit of a tug to it, as if to get his attention, he pulls Bruce over as he himself leans in and he kisses the man. Soft. Sweet. A little more slow than how his kisses might have been last night. Fingers curling some around that wrist, he lets lips slip away from Bruce's, lingering close as he huffs a quiet laugh. ]
That... wasn't a suggestion for an idea. [ A beat. ] Un..less you want it to be? I just wanted to kiss you.
[ And remind him that he's here. He's not alone. ]
[ Bruce observes him closely, no longer trying very hard to filter how strangely intense he can seem. Barry's seen behind the curtain in a number of ways. And so when he allows himself to be pulled in, and follows it, returns that gentle kiss, he does it very seriously, because that's how he does just about everything. Wanting to say the right thing and, failing that, wanting to offer the honest thing.
Which is: man idk
Bruce squeezes his hand. ]
Can I ask you something, [ he ventures, expression grave. Slightly drawn.
[ There's a sort of gentle relief when Bruce returns that kiss β when he squeezes his hand. The kind that makes him feel like this is ok. That seeking out a kiss in the here and now β today β when it had been so uncertain if he could or should some hours ago is not met with a harsh or confused rebuff. That has him feeling light...
...until Bruce goes and asks that.
Brown eyes blink and his mind quickly zips through a handful of ways he might have messed this up or read too much into something before he's smiling a little sheepishly and nods, biting on the inside of his cheek. ]
Since you did what you did, [ he begins, and then immediately corrects to not be so uselessly vague: ] Since you pushed time back to save us from Darkseid. Have you been alright? Really.
[ He should have asked when Barry told him, but it had thrown Bruce, pushing him into his own issues with his dreams. Trying to puzzle out the mystery of having had that vision of Barry Allen before ever meeting him or seeing him on a liquor store security camera. Now that he's had a moment - granted, a long one - he realizes the error of not taking time to really unpack it as a thing a person has experienced, and not a phenomenon that should be scientifically observed.
Because it sounds like it could easily be traumatic, and miserable, and Barry's shouldered it in total silence. Bruce knows what that's like, and it kinda blows. ]
[ That's... not what he's expecting to be asked and he's not sure if he's relieved? On the one hand, at least it's not something about them. On the other, it's not that great a thing to talk about really, so. Yeah.
For a moment, he stares to the other man, almost as if wanting to make sure he heard him right before he licks over his lips and tilts his head, gaze drifting off. He's quiet, almost as if mulling over how to answer that before he smiles and shrugs, looking back to Bruce then. ]
Yeah. Of course. I mean β it was my fault. I got shot and didn't heal fast enough to get to Victor in time β which is funny when I'm as fast as I am. [ Yet there's no humor in his tone. ] But I fixed it, so. Everything's fine.
[ Fingers drum against the counter as she smiles to Bruce and slowly lets his gaze drift off again. Survivor's guilt even when not technically being the only survivor because you reversed time to fix it Is A Thing, who knew. But not wanting to dwell on that, he tilts his head again, licking over his lips. ]
It's... given me a lot to think about? That if I can reverse time and fix one point in time... maybe I can fix other things too.
[ Like go back far enough to save his mother from her murder. ]
[ If Bruce had Barry's ability, he isn't sure that he'd have been able to keep himself from trying, by now. If not for his parents*, then for his son. A thing too big for any one person to have, the knowledge of it a constant presence - akin to how Clark feels, he wonders? And yet what Barry can do is beyond that.
His mind hooks onto something else, though, and Bruce sets his coffee aside to lean in, making sure that he gets Barry's eyes. ]
If you want to assign a fault, then it's mine. I didn't get enough parademons away from you, I brought you into this, I didn't stop Luthor in time to prevent him from communicating with worlds beyond ours.
[ Also, he tried to kill Superman. But he's gone ten rounds with blame already with that, against Clark, and he's not willing to tie an anchor to Barry's foot with that one. It sucks, it's miserable, but it's between them; if he hadn't done it, there wouldn't have been a weapon to kill Doomsday, and then where would they be? An awful paradox which he loathes, but things are what they are. ]
Thank you for saving us, Barry. None of that worked without you. We all had a part in it and none of us were perfect. And what you did was incredible. Not just that you have the ability, but you had the nerve for it.
( * like maybe he already had zombie mom and dad back during that weird time in the 80s when he was still a kid and the murders were very fresh and a magic wish brought his parents back to life then a glowing godlike voice from a tv told him he was a selfish monster about it and now he's too traumatized to try again WONDER WOMAN 84 YOU WERE A HELL OF A FILM )
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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. ]
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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. ]
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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. ]
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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. ]
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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?
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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.
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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. ]
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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. ]
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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. ]
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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.
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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. ]
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nightmorning, Barry sleeps without much movement to be had. He hadn't been joking when he had said that Bruce had tired him out. It's been a hot minute since he's been so exhausted like that that he just wants to pass out β that he does go and pass out within a matter of seconds. But with how much physical activity they had gotten up to over the course of however many hours it had been and the only meal he had had being thedenny'sdiner food and milkshake from earlier on in the night as fuel for his hyper metabolism... suffice to say, he'd run out of that fuel and needed to replenish it with sleep.So, he had gone out like a light, not even feeling when Bruce had slipped away from him.
When he does come to wake, it's in a tangle of those sheets that feel so cool against his bare legs, covered just so slightly with them with a blanket tucked around him. He's curled into the center of the bed a little, his brain taking a couple seconds to reboot it all up before he's lazily blinking his eyes open... and jolts up in bed with a start. ]
Oh my godβ what day is it?
[ Frantic, he looks around to find that he's not in his own bed and for half a second, he's wondering just where the hell he is before it all catches up to him. Bruce. He's at Bruce's. In his bed. Last night. Right. Fingers carding through the mess that is his hair, he dives across the bed for his phone, knocking the little note off as he checks the date and time there on the lock screen and... he's not working. It's a weekend. Day off. Crisis averted.
The sigh he gives is a heavy one of relief and he faceplants into the mattress. It's only after a moment that he peeks over the edge of the bed and sees the note he'd knocked off, fingers plucking it from the floor. Pressing it open with two of his fingers, he smiles a bit when he sees what's scribbled there and, again, sighs, rolling over onto his back with a lazy little groan as he does.
It's just a little after Bruce has come back from his wandering that Barry makes his presence known in the kitchen via tired little groans and feet shuffling away. He's wrapped up in the robe that had been taken off him... in the morning... and rubbing at his eye with the heel of a palm when he catches sight of Bruce. The smile he gives the man is sweet and lazy and he makes his way over for the first chair he sees to which he dramatically drapes himself over it, head resting there on his arm. ]
Hi. [ He murmurs, smiling despite his half upside-down look he's got going on. ] Afternoon? Definitely not good morning.
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[ Seeing Barry like this, all muddled from sleep, wearing one of his robes, wandering around comfortablyβ pulls at something in him. They don't know what they're doing, and the only thing they've talked about is I don't want to forget, but Bruce can feel something dig in beneath the cage of his ribs anyway.
Maybe it's a metahuman superpower that the younger man has. ]
Coffee, or a breakfast sandwich? [ a beat, as he pulls something out of the large catering bag. ] I think that's what these are, anyway. Might be a burrito in there too.
[ There's expansive fodder for French toast or sandwiches or various egg creations; The Brunch Special from a service he uses, for about a dozen people. Some prepared items, but most of it they'll have to put together themselves. ]
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Coffee would probably have me vibrating through the floor, so... breakfast sandwich? What do you have in there?
[ Bare feet pad across the cool flooring as he makes his way over to Bruce, heavily leaning himself against the other man, cheek pressed to his arm. Peering in, his eyes light up when he sees the various assortment of food in the bag and he huffs a laugh as he reaches in to poke around a little, see what's really all in there. ]
Holy moly. This is like... a buffet to-go.
[ Just saying.
Taking one of the prepared items out of its packaging, he just goes and helps himself to it and hums in a pleased little way that just might sound familiar from hours ago. Straightening up, he looks down to the food as he chews a little thoughtfully before helping himself to another bite. ]
Oh my god, this tastes so good. I love food so much.
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I didn't want you to waste away, [ he says, a smile tucked into his voice. ] Since all I actually had was protein shake stuff.
[ Tupperware full of pre-chopped vegetables, supplement powders, oat milk. The horror. After diner food and half a milkshake, Bruce is pretty sure he'll die unless he limits himself. ]
Unless you'd like one. [ :)? He holds up one said tupperware container, which jingles dully, full of dark green superfoods. Mmmm, kale. ]
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Bo danks.
[ Pausing, he actually takes a couple seconds there to swallow before he tries again. ]
Uh, I'm good. Thanks.
[ Huffing a laugh, he smiles to Bruce as he holds up his sandwich before he grabs a couple more from the catering bag and takes them with him over to that chair he had draped himself over earlier. The sound of foil and paper can be heard unwrapping as he goes about freeing the breakfast foods from their coverings, Barry finishing off the one in hand before he goes about starting on a second one, third one ready in his other hand. He really is a snackhole with the way he just attacks the sandwiches and wraps without even seeming to skip a beat in doing so.
Making sure he swallows again first, he looks up to Bruce then, eyes a little bright and curious as he does. ]
Um, so... what are your plans for the day? I mean... it's the weekend, right? You don't go into the office or something, right?
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Fortunately, I can pretty much do what I want, when it comes to my dayjob. Plug your ears. [ Vroom vroom goes the blender. It's somewhat earsplitting in contrast to the quiet lake house atmosphere, but doesn't last long, turning into a sickly green goop, which Bruce then proceeds to slime out into a large cup. ]
But I don't have any plans, no. Do you?
[ He drinks some of the smoothie, and then immediately swaps it for a long drink of black coffee, before moving back. No real pleasure in food happening for him, but at least he knows he won't puke or have some kind of blood sugar incident later. His measly human body has to be kept at a certain level of performance or being Batman is a lot less fun.
The catering bag is empty now, everything put away or snagged by Barry, so he sets it on the floor against the windows, and goes to sit by the speedster. Everything in here is ultra-modern and overly expensive, but at least it's all comfortable, despite the minimal design.
(Just don't... look at the only extant decor, a heavy black Italian urn floating on a display stand near the desk by the door. Like, Bruce, why is everything a dead person.) ]
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Uh, no. It's the weekend and I have those off with my job, so. [ A small shrug of his shoulders, he takes another bite, chewing for a moment before he looks over to Bruce. ] Good thing last night wasn't Sunday, you know?
[ Or else he'd definitely be zipping out of here and heading back to Central City in a flash.
There's a sort of silence that falls over them as they sit there, Barry focused on cramming as much food into his mouth as he can to refuel himself from their strenuous physical activities last night. If they end up doing this again, he almost thinks to maybe ask for a catering bag like this to be purchased in advance so that he has something he can quickly snack on when he's finally feeling depleted in energy.
Of course, that just brings him to those thoughts of... what now what with the afternoon having come and all.
Bruce had said he didn't want to forget and Barry had said the same. He meant it then in the shower and he means it now, right here in the kitchen with the other man near him, but. Does he bring that up? Do they just agree that yeah, they fucked a few times in one night, and just leave it at that? Not entirely forgetting or denying such a thing happened, but not indulging in anything beyond those handful of hours? He doesn't know β doesn't know what Bruce wants and it has him sitting there a little deep in thought for a moment before he finishes off the wrap he'd been holding and looks around for some napkins to wipe his hands on. ]
Um, so... were you just planning to... hang around here or something? Like chill or whatever?
[ Bruce and chill... he's hilarious without even trying to be. ]
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What the fuck to say. Probably not mustering up an offer to fuck again; despite having no speed force metabolism, Bruce is a highly sexually motivated person, and when the opportunity arises it's hard to make that voice shut up. But no, that's a little weird. And so is saying something terminally awkward like 'well, you said you hadn't done that before, so I didn't want to leave you alone because it can make a person feel vulnerable', because oh my god.
He finishes his superfood smush, holds the cup between long fingers, considers the younger man.
Finally, ]
I don't know.
[ welp ]
I haven't stayed until after for.. years, now, I think the last person I spent any real time with was the woman I almost married. [ He moves the empty cup around, implying a shrug. Sucks to suck, Bruce. ] I didn't want to leave you alone, and I didn't feel like being alone. I don't have any ideas past that.
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It's just now, like Bruce admits, he's not all that sure what to do with this moment here between them after it all. It's one he knew was going to come, even from the moment they first kissed on that couch. He knew "tomorrow would come" and they'd have to deal with however they felt after it all, just... it sort of sucks? To not know or to feel as if you're tip-toeing around it, unsure if something might rock the boat in a way that could make things awkward.
But they both don't want to forget. He remembers that so clearly.
After a moment and another glance given to the man out of the corner of his eye, he gently reaches out to touch his wrist and with a bit of a tug to it, as if to get his attention, he pulls Bruce over as he himself leans in and he kisses the man. Soft. Sweet. A little more slow than how his kisses might have been last night. Fingers curling some around that wrist, he lets lips slip away from Bruce's, lingering close as he huffs a quiet laugh. ]
That... wasn't a suggestion for an idea. [ A beat. ] Un..less you want it to be? I just wanted to kiss you.
[ And remind him that he's here. He's not alone. ]
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Which is: man idk
Bruce squeezes his hand. ]
Can I ask you something, [ he ventures, expression grave. Slightly drawn.
VERY CHILL, STILL, this is chill. ]
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...until Bruce goes and asks that.
Brown eyes blink and his mind quickly zips through a handful of ways he might have messed this up or read too much into something before he's smiling a little sheepishly and nods, biting on the inside of his cheek. ]
Y-yeah. Of course you can.
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[ He should have asked when Barry told him, but it had thrown Bruce, pushing him into his own issues with his dreams. Trying to puzzle out the mystery of having had that vision of Barry Allen before ever meeting him or seeing him on a liquor store security camera. Now that he's had a moment - granted, a long one - he realizes the error of not taking time to really unpack it as a thing a person has experienced, and not a phenomenon that should be scientifically observed.
Because it sounds like it could easily be traumatic, and miserable, and Barry's shouldered it in total silence. Bruce knows what that's like, and it kinda blows. ]
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For a moment, he stares to the other man, almost as if wanting to make sure he heard him right before he licks over his lips and tilts his head, gaze drifting off. He's quiet, almost as if mulling over how to answer that before he smiles and shrugs, looking back to Bruce then. ]
Yeah. Of course. I mean β it was my fault. I got shot and didn't heal fast enough to get to Victor in time β which is funny when I'm as fast as I am. [ Yet there's no humor in his tone. ] But I fixed it, so. Everything's fine.
[ Fingers drum against the counter as she smiles to Bruce and slowly lets his gaze drift off again. Survivor's guilt even when not technically being the only survivor because you reversed time to fix it Is A Thing, who knew. But not wanting to dwell on that, he tilts his head again, licking over his lips. ]
It's... given me a lot to think about? That if I can reverse time and fix one point in time... maybe I can fix other things too.
[ Like go back far enough to save his mother from her murder. ]
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His mind hooks onto something else, though, and Bruce sets his coffee aside to lean in, making sure that he gets Barry's eyes. ]
If you want to assign a fault, then it's mine. I didn't get enough parademons away from you, I brought you into this, I didn't stop Luthor in time to prevent him from communicating with worlds beyond ours.
[ Also, he tried to kill Superman. But he's gone ten rounds with blame already with that, against Clark, and he's not willing to tie an anchor to Barry's foot with that one. It sucks, it's miserable, but it's between them; if he hadn't done it, there wouldn't have been a weapon to kill Doomsday, and then where would they be? An awful paradox which he loathes, but things are what they are. ]
Thank you for saving us, Barry. None of that worked without you. We all had a part in it and none of us were perfect. And what you did was incredible. Not just that you have the ability, but you had the nerve for it.
( * like maybe he already had zombie mom and dad back during that weird time in the 80s when he was still a kid and the murders were very fresh and a magic wish brought his parents back to life then a glowing godlike voice from a tv told him he was a selfish monster about it and now he's too traumatized to try again WONDER WOMAN 84 YOU WERE A HELL OF A FILM )
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