[ He'd lost it all at this point. With his best friend back in this army, his sister wanting to go her own way, and his ex-soulmate dead, Oliver was really on his own for the first time in a long while. Felicity was still present, but they'd long since parted ways, and their getting married had long since stopped being an option. It was Oliver Queen, Star City's mayor, feeling more alone than he's ever felt.
And he could stay that way; he's used to it. The quiet of his apartment is a familiar sound, the echo of his own breathing the only thing to reach his ears. Add a few tropical trees and a few layers of dirt and it wasn't much different from the island.
But as he sits in his empty apartment, rubbing at his face as he sinks into the cushions of his couch, he knows just what Laurel might think. How she'd scold him for resorting back to this life of his, of shutting himself away and pretending this was the easier path. And he's already convinced of it, already telling himself he could get by like this. But he should be better than that.
Rotating his phone in his hands, he looks at all the contacts. No one seems like an option. They're either all strangers or wanting to be away from him. All except — well, there's someone who probably thinks alright of him.
[ Barry would never admit this aloud, but Oliver Queen is the last person he'd ever expect a phone-call from. They don't see each other often, not unless there's a worldwide crisis in need of stopping, and in between the occasional text (mostly Barry texting Oliver a 'Happy [Insert Your Holiday of Choice Here]'), there isn't a whole lot of contact.
Barry's okay with that; being the Flash keeps him pretty busy.
He thinks of Oliver sometimes, wonders if the guy is okay, if he ever needs a friend, if Barry could be that friend. Iris tells him that he cares too much, that he gives his heart away too easily, and maybe that's true but he'd prefer to think of that as a good quality, not a bad one.
So, okay, yeah, he might stumble a little with his words, feeling nervous all of a sudden when he picks up the phone. Seeing Oliver Queen's name pop up on his screen would do that to anyone. The guy is kind of awesome, and these days - from what he's seen in the news - he's kind of a big deal, too. ]
[ It's hearing Barry's voice that makes Oliver realize that he has no idea what he's doing. It's one thing to call the speedster for help on taking someone down. It's entirely another to call him just for the sake of it. But Oliver hasn't done "friends" in a long time. Not since Tommy. Even casual hangouts with Diggle weren't common ground, not outside their hideout.
He hears Barry and he sighs to himself, rubbing his face. ]
I just needed your advice. On some guys around town. Got a few meta-humans running loose around here.
[ Lie. Well, not a lie. They are roaming around town but it's nothing too out of control that the Green Arrow hasn't been able to handle. He squints his eyes, shaking his head at himself. ]
If I can steal you away from Central City for a few hours.
Oh - uh. Sure. I mean, let me give Cisco a shout. And Caitlin. I can get to you pretty quick - [ Obviously. Speedster, hello. ] - and they'll catch up. You can give me the initial rundown.
[ Barry's pretty sure he hadn't heard of any emergency meta-human invasion going down in Star City, but hey. He's a lot better keeping up with his hometown's affairs. There's always a chance the local news missed something. There's always a chance they haven't even caught on to it yet either. The Green Arrow would be the first line of defense. ]
No. [ He quickly answers, probably a little too harshly, he realizes. What is he even doing, asking Barry to come over all the way from Central City. All because he wanted company? When did Oliver Queen get so pathetic? All because Laurel wouldn't want him to be alone and he'd messed up too much with the rest of them to know how to fix it.
What reason did he have to drag Barry into all of this? ]
It's not dire enough for the whole team. [ Which really negates why he'd need Barry coming all the way. ] We could use some help from the Flash is all.
[ There's a little flag raising itself above this whole situation, but Barry's never one to turn down a friend's request. Especially when said friend is the very handsome, very awesome, very too-cool-for-people Oliver Queen. Barry likes feeling needed. He likes the idea of making a difference in other people's lives, even if its in some small, seemingly insignificant way.
He's a gush-ball, that's the long and short of it, and something seems ... up with Oliver. ]
You okay? You know what, don't answer that. I'll get to you in a ... bit. Give or take a couple minutes. Where are you now?
[ He'll regret this. He already is, pinching at the bridge of his nose. But it's hard for him to hide that pit in his stomach that's a bit relieved to hear that Barry's coming. Because Oliver really has forgotten how to be on his own, too used to the company that's been a comfort for him all this time, company he's taken for granted. And losing Laurel — yes, he really has taken it all for granted. ]
My place. I'll text you the address. No rush.
[ He adds that last line for good measure, a twist of his lips in an almost smirk to himself. ]
'No rush'? You do know who you're talking to, right?
[ Barry laughs.
His phone beeps, he pulls the earpiece away from him to check, and nods. Yep. Okay. Got it.
He realizes that yeah, they might have teamed up a few times over the years, but he's never actually been to Oliver Queen's home before ... must be serious. Must be a private matter.
[ Despite his words, he's huffing into a smile, a habit that's far too common around Barry Allen. Probably because it's so easy for Barry to be cheerful and charismatic. A contrast to Oliver who has to work at it every day in the public eye, pretending to still be that spoiled rich kid he'd once been before everything turned around. And now as mayor, he really needed the extra practice. Just thinking of it was exhausting.
But it's not so hard around Barry. Which is probably why he had the instinct to call him in the first place. ]
See you, Barry. [ He texts him the address with nothing left to say, already keeping his smile, trying to fight it away. But somehow the idea of seeing Barry is already uplifting his earlier diminished mood. ]
[ Barry goes so far as to say what he does before he's laughing. He hangs up without another word, zips into STAR Labs, changes into his suit, and makes the long-distance run towards Star City.
He's a streak of red and gold lightning, just a blur passing through streets and alleyways, along the freeway, and into the country side before he reaches the next city over. He isn't tired, he isn't out of breath, but when he reaches Oliver's hood, he's famished.
He could probably take about 850 tacos right now.
He pauses only to check his phone again for Oliver's address, and then he continues on.
Next thing Oliver Queen should expect is the sound of a buzzer, just a speedster asking for permission to come up. ]
[ He's not sure how much time it'd actually take for Barry to get there. It's a couple of hours if someone were to travel a more regular way which meant with Barry, the time would be cut tremendously. A couple of minutes, he said. But Barry also has a reputation of being late.
So it leaves Oliver to consider maybe he should freshen up, maybe try a shower. To which he immediately thinks, why would he need a shower to see Barry. And so instead, he takes the time to heat up some leftovers he'd ordered with Thea for lunch earlier that day, a few cartons of fried rice and honey chicken. He could probably order a fresh batch but Barry would get there before he'd even got the order in.
Laying out the food, he soon hears the buzzer, responding to it to let Barry come up. Knowing it wouldn't take long afterwards for the speedster to come up, he already opens his door, leaning against the frame. ]
You're late. [ Cue the already existing smirk. ]
LMFAOldskjf;dsf IT SURE IS i have z e r o regrets dont judge
A speedster is never late. He arrives precisely when he means to.
[ Yeah, Oliver probably won't get the reference, but that's fine. It's cool.
Barry pulls the cowl from his face, grinning at his host once unmasked.
The scent of food is tantalizing, wafting throughout the apartment like it meant to torture him. His stomach growls, right on cue, just as Barry pokes his head past Oliver's shoulder. ]
[ Of course Oliver doesn't know the reference, with five years absent of his life to have been keeping up with cultural references and then not bothering to catch himself up by the time he'd come back to the real world. But that doesn't stop him from grinning at the line, mostly because he assumes Barry made it up all on his own. And, well, it's a good line.
He draws back, holding out an arm to the kitchen. ] Freely available to you. Just don't eat it all.
[ Seeing Barry in costume makes him feel weird about himself, dressed in a regular navy sweater and slacks. No Green Arrow costume tonight. Because this wasn't meant to be a night of work, even if he'd made Barry assume it. Oliver's fault, really. ]
[ Barry says casually, moving past Oliver to get a sight at the food laid out in the kitchen. Honey chicken, bowls of fried rice - man, it's like a little tiny slice of heaven.
He turns back around to continue grinning at Oliver. ]
But first --
[ He moves in to wrap his arms around the other man.
Yep. You're about to be hugged by your pal Barry. Get ready for it, Oliver. ]
[ Oliver's eyes go wide at feeling sudden contact. Mostly because he hadn't been expecting it although he definitely should have. While he most definitely wasn't a hugger, he'd already accepted that Barry was and had long since fallen victim to the embraces.
Despite the fazed look and the subtle red in his cheeks (from the surprise), Oliver manages to give Barry a few returning pats. Even if, granted, they're a bit stiff. Give him some credit. ]
You're still with the hugging thing, huh? Hoped you'd grow out of it.
[ Though in truth, it doesn't bother him in the slightest. ]
[ Barry shakes his head, letting out a huff of laughter, before he's walking towards the kitchen and basically making a beeline for the food. ]
You don't grow out of hugging, Oliver. You just don't. You can learn to do it though.
[ Y'know. Case in point and all that ...
Nope, nope, Barry is just not going to make the obvious comment about Oliver needing a Hug Sensei or anything like that. Even if Barry would be an excellent teacher. He knows a thing or two about hugging. He's a great hugger. An Expert even.
[ Barry definitely gets him there. Because Oliver knows, he knows that he's the one who's behind with casual affection. Kissing is never a problem and getting into bed will most probably never be an issue but the friendly touches and the sentimental hugging has never been his thing. He'll blame five years of seclusion from most of the world on that. ]
Is that what you're doing, Barry? Teaching me?
[ He raises a brow, following him into the kitchen once he shuts the door.
The food is already laid out, cartons open all over the counter with a couple of plates and forks reading to be used. It's Oliver's version of setting up dinner. Even if he didn't make it himself, there was some effort here. ]
[ Barry can appreciate the effort Oliver went into. It's pretty clear, anyway, with everything laid out and heated up, cutlery and plates at the ready for his guest.
It's nice.
No.
It's sweet.
Barry always knew there was a part of Oliver that wasn't all broody darkness and mean quips. There's a nice guy there too, someone who believes in making the world good again. Or at least a safer, better place for the people. Barry can relate. Hell, it's what Barry fights for too.
(Well.
That and he does believe in making the world a better place.)
The food part happens pretty quickly. Barry shovels as much as is polite down his throat, feeling better after the second helping, and then feeling good after the thirdandahalf. They move from the kitchen to the living room, and from there, Barry is nosing around the place, looking for Oliver's personal effects, something that makes this place seem a little more ... Oliver.
[ This hadn't been how this night had intended to go. Not with Barry Allen nudged up against his wall, with Barry Allen naked after a speedy rush to get his costume off, their bodies pressed tightly together.
Still in his jeans, Oliver had managed to throw his shirt across the room exposing years worth of scars and developed muscle. And while it's not what he's used to, not the slim body of another man, it doesn't seem to bother him when it's Barry. Because he's long since gotten under his skin, made him flutter underneath from that goofy smile and sunshine personality. It made Oliver feel like he could bask in that brightness despite his self-proclamation of always belonging in the darkness.
Mouth hard against his, he distracts lips from speaking, from speaking any regrets about what might be happening. Barry's mouth is far too soft, too good to want to pull away from anyway, his chest too warm to want to draw away from.
With one hand gripping his arm tight to keep him close, his own jeans rubbing fiercely against bare skin, his free set of fingers reach between them for Barry's cock. This is new, having another man in his hand, but it gives him a good idea of how someone might like to be touched, drawing back on his own experiences. Fist wrapping around him tightly, he strokes him to get him hard, his own erection becoming evident behind denim. ]
[ Barry exhales sharp at first contact, dragging his mouth across Oliver's in a heady need for more of him, more of his lips, his touch, his warmth. He's never been with another man before either, but for some reason this doesn't scare him. He feels strangely safe in Oliver's hands, and definitely, absolutely turned on.
His Flash suit is somewhere in the room, an abandoned pile of indestructible fabric.
His own hands reach around to pull Oliver closer, gripping him at his sides, moving to rest at the waistband of his jeans while he moves his hips against the other man, then dips lower, past denim to find skin.
He grows hard, harder with each stroke Oliver rubs along the length of him until it's almost too much. He's pressed into the wall near the bed, but it's not close enough and Barry doesn't care so much to get there. This is just fine, and God it feels so - so good.
[ He knew he had to avoid being lonely tonight but the kind of company he gets is still surprising to him, even as he feels the brush of Barry's tongue against his own, like something like this could only be so natural between them. And maybe it is. For a long time, he and Barry felt so easily compatible, as friends, as teammates, as partners. Maybe it shouldn't be surprising that they'd get along well like this too.
With as much women as Oliver's slept with, Barry's mouth is just as nice as any of theirs, if not nicer.
He feels him grow thick in his grip, becoming stiffer even faster than Oliver anticipates (which is ridiculous because it's the Flash). Palm pressing tighter at a crown, he rubs distractedly around it with a thumb as he begins to undo his own jeans, nudging them down enough to let a hard cock go free. ]
Barry. [ He whispers low and raspy, edging in closer to press the length of his own erection against the other. Rocking his hips, the hardened skin rub together, a jolt of pleasure pouring through him. Barry. This is Barry. Barry has him hard and needy, has him grinding against him into a wall, suddenly drowning in the revelation this is far better than touching himself. Nipping at lips, he licks at Barry's mouth, hungrily, the low groan from his throat showcasing that he isn't holding back on this. ]
[ Barry has no intentions on holding back either, even while he's trying to maintain some semblance of cool. He's so turned on by this man, the grip of his hand around him so strong, so distinctly male, and yet there's something else there too. A bond or a trust.
Barry's well aware of how closed Oliver can be, how little of himself he reveals. Barry doesn't know Oliver in all the ways he wants to, but this is something special, he knows this much. This isn't something just everyone gets to see or experience.
(He wonders if Oliver's been with other men before.
He also realizes it doesn't matter.)
He tilts his head, presses kisses across the stubbly chin of his partner, dips lower to kiss his collar bone, momentarily resting his forehead in the crook of his shoulder while Oliver rubs him, up and down, up and down. Barry reaches for Oliver, pushing his jeans down as far as they could go while he's still standing up, and reaches for his penis in kind. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ He'd lost it all at this point. With his best friend back in this army, his sister wanting to go her own way, and his ex-soulmate dead, Oliver was really on his own for the first time in a long while. Felicity was still present, but they'd long since parted ways, and their getting married had long since stopped being an option. It was Oliver Queen, Star City's mayor, feeling more alone than he's ever felt.
And he could stay that way; he's used to it. The quiet of his apartment is a familiar sound, the echo of his own breathing the only thing to reach his ears. Add a few tropical trees and a few layers of dirt and it wasn't much different from the island.
But as he sits in his empty apartment, rubbing at his face as he sinks into the cushions of his couch, he knows just what Laurel might think. How she'd scold him for resorting back to this life of his, of shutting himself away and pretending this was the easier path. And he's already convinced of it, already telling himself he could get by like this. But he should be better than that.
Rotating his phone in his hands, he looks at all the contacts. No one seems like an option. They're either all strangers or wanting to be away from him. All except — well, there's someone who probably thinks alright of him.
So he dials. ] Barry? Got a free night?
no subject
[ Barry would never admit this aloud, but Oliver Queen is the last person he'd ever expect a phone-call from. They don't see each other often, not unless there's a worldwide crisis in need of stopping, and in between the occasional text (mostly Barry texting Oliver a 'Happy [Insert Your Holiday of Choice Here]'), there isn't a whole lot of contact.
Barry's okay with that; being the Flash keeps him pretty busy.
He thinks of Oliver sometimes, wonders if the guy is okay, if he ever needs a friend, if Barry could be that friend. Iris tells him that he cares too much, that he gives his heart away too easily, and maybe that's true but he'd prefer to think of that as a good quality, not a bad one.
So, okay, yeah, he might stumble a little with his words, feeling nervous all of a sudden when he picks up the phone. Seeing Oliver Queen's name pop up on his screen would do that to anyone. The guy is kind of awesome, and these days - from what he's seen in the news - he's kind of a big deal, too. ]
For you? Yeah.
no subject
He hears Barry and he sighs to himself, rubbing his face. ]
I just needed your advice. On some guys around town. Got a few meta-humans running loose around here.
[ Lie. Well, not a lie. They are roaming around town but it's nothing too out of control that the Green Arrow hasn't been able to handle. He squints his eyes, shaking his head at himself. ]
If I can steal you away from Central City for a few hours.
no subject
[ Barry's pretty sure he hadn't heard of any emergency meta-human invasion going down in Star City, but hey. He's a lot better keeping up with his hometown's affairs. There's always a chance the local news missed something. There's always a chance they haven't even caught on to it yet either. The Green Arrow would be the first line of defense. ]
That sound okay?
no subject
What reason did he have to drag Barry into all of this? ]
It's not dire enough for the whole team. [ Which really negates why he'd need Barry coming all the way. ] We could use some help from the Flash is all.
[ Yeah, he dug himself into a weird hole. ]
no subject
[ There's a little flag raising itself above this whole situation, but Barry's never one to turn down a friend's request. Especially when said friend is the very handsome, very awesome, very too-cool-for-people Oliver Queen. Barry likes feeling needed. He likes the idea of making a difference in other people's lives, even if its in some small, seemingly insignificant way.
He's a gush-ball, that's the long and short of it, and something seems ... up with Oliver. ]
You okay? You know what, don't answer that. I'll get to you in a ... bit. Give or take a couple minutes. Where are you now?
no subject
My place. I'll text you the address. No rush.
[ He adds that last line for good measure, a twist of his lips in an almost smirk to himself. ]
no subject
[ Barry laughs.
His phone beeps, he pulls the earpiece away from him to check, and nods. Yep. Okay. Got it.
He realizes that yeah, they might have teamed up a few times over the years, but he's never actually been to Oliver Queen's home before ... must be serious. Must be a private matter.
That's fine. He can keep it low-key. ]
Got it. [ He confirms. ] See you in a flash.
[ Eheheh. He's so funny. ]
no subject
[ Despite his words, he's huffing into a smile, a habit that's far too common around Barry Allen. Probably because it's so easy for Barry to be cheerful and charismatic. A contrast to Oliver who has to work at it every day in the public eye, pretending to still be that spoiled rich kid he'd once been before everything turned around. And now as mayor, he really needed the extra practice. Just thinking of it was exhausting.
But it's not so hard around Barry. Which is probably why he had the instinct to call him in the first place. ]
See you, Barry. [ He texts him the address with nothing left to say, already keeping his smile, trying to fight it away. But somehow the idea of seeing Barry is already uplifting his earlier diminished mood. ]
no subject
[ Barry goes so far as to say what he does before he's laughing. He hangs up without another word, zips into STAR Labs, changes into his suit, and makes the long-distance run towards Star City.
He's a streak of red and gold lightning, just a blur passing through streets and alleyways, along the freeway, and into the country side before he reaches the next city over. He isn't tired, he isn't out of breath, but when he reaches Oliver's hood, he's famished.
He could probably take about 850 tacos right now.
He pauses only to check his phone again for Oliver's address, and then he continues on.
Next thing Oliver Queen should expect is the sound of a buzzer, just a speedster asking for permission to come up. ]
IS THAT LITERALLY AN ICON WHY
So it leaves Oliver to consider maybe he should freshen up, maybe try a shower. To which he immediately thinks, why would he need a shower to see Barry. And so instead, he takes the time to heat up some leftovers he'd ordered with Thea for lunch earlier that day, a few cartons of fried rice and honey chicken. He could probably order a fresh batch but Barry would get there before he'd even got the order in.
Laying out the food, he soon hears the buzzer, responding to it to let Barry come up. Knowing it wouldn't take long afterwards for the speedster to come up, he already opens his door, leaning against the frame. ]
You're late. [ Cue the already existing smirk. ]
LMFAOldskjf;dsf IT SURE IS i have z e r o regrets dont judge
[ Yeah, Oliver probably won't get the reference, but that's fine. It's cool.
Barry pulls the cowl from his face, grinning at his host once unmasked.
The scent of food is tantalizing, wafting throughout the apartment like it meant to torture him. His stomach growls, right on cue, just as Barry pokes his head past Oliver's shoulder. ]
... is that honey chicken I smell?
no subject
He draws back, holding out an arm to the kitchen. ] Freely available to you. Just don't eat it all.
[ Seeing Barry in costume makes him feel weird about himself, dressed in a regular navy sweater and slacks. No Green Arrow costume tonight. Because this wasn't meant to be a night of work, even if he'd made Barry assume it. Oliver's fault, really. ]
How was the traffic? [ Ahahaha. ]
no subject
[ Barry says casually, moving past Oliver to get a sight at the food laid out in the kitchen. Honey chicken, bowls of fried rice - man, it's like a little tiny slice of heaven.
He turns back around to continue grinning at Oliver. ]
But first --
[ He moves in to wrap his arms around the other man.
Yep. You're about to be hugged by your pal Barry. Get ready for it, Oliver. ]
no subject
Despite the fazed look and the subtle red in his cheeks (from the surprise), Oliver manages to give Barry a few returning pats. Even if, granted, they're a bit stiff. Give him some credit. ]
You're still with the hugging thing, huh? Hoped you'd grow out of it.
[ Though in truth, it doesn't bother him in the slightest. ]
no subject
[ Barry shakes his head, letting out a huff of laughter, before he's walking towards the kitchen and basically making a beeline for the food. ]
You don't grow out of hugging, Oliver. You just don't. You can learn to do it though.
[ Y'know. Case in point and all that ...
Nope, nope, Barry is just not going to make the obvious comment about Oliver needing a Hug Sensei or anything like that. Even if Barry would be an excellent teacher. He knows a thing or two about hugging. He's a great hugger. An Expert even.
But first - food. ]
no subject
Is that what you're doing, Barry? Teaching me?
[ He raises a brow, following him into the kitchen once he shuts the door.
The food is already laid out, cartons open all over the counter with a couple of plates and forks reading to be used. It's Oliver's version of setting up dinner. Even if he didn't make it himself, there was some effort here. ]
no subject
[ Barry can appreciate the effort Oliver went into. It's pretty clear, anyway, with everything laid out and heated up, cutlery and plates at the ready for his guest.
It's nice.
No.
It's sweet.
Barry always knew there was a part of Oliver that wasn't all broody darkness and mean quips. There's a nice guy there too, someone who believes in making the world good again. Or at least a safer, better place for the people. Barry can relate. Hell, it's what Barry fights for too.
(Well.
That and he does believe in making the world a better place.)
The food part happens pretty quickly. Barry shovels as much as is polite down his throat, feeling better after the second helping, and then feeling good after the thirdandahalf. They move from the kitchen to the living room, and from there, Barry is nosing around the place, looking for Oliver's personal effects, something that makes this place seem a little more ... Oliver.
Maybe he just wants to know him. ]
no subject
[ This hadn't been how this night had intended to go. Not with Barry Allen nudged up against his wall, with Barry Allen naked after a speedy rush to get his costume off, their bodies pressed tightly together.
Still in his jeans, Oliver had managed to throw his shirt across the room exposing years worth of scars and developed muscle. And while it's not what he's used to, not the slim body of another man, it doesn't seem to bother him when it's Barry. Because he's long since gotten under his skin, made him flutter underneath from that goofy smile and sunshine personality. It made Oliver feel like he could bask in that brightness despite his self-proclamation of always belonging in the darkness.
Mouth hard against his, he distracts lips from speaking, from speaking any regrets about what might be happening. Barry's mouth is far too soft, too good to want to pull away from anyway, his chest too warm to want to draw away from.
With one hand gripping his arm tight to keep him close, his own jeans rubbing fiercely against bare skin, his free set of fingers reach between them for Barry's cock. This is new, having another man in his hand, but it gives him a good idea of how someone might like to be touched, drawing back on his own experiences. Fist wrapping around him tightly, he strokes him to get him hard, his own erection becoming evident behind denim. ]
no subject
His Flash suit is somewhere in the room, an abandoned pile of indestructible fabric.
His own hands reach around to pull Oliver closer, gripping him at his sides, moving to rest at the waistband of his jeans while he moves his hips against the other man, then dips lower, past denim to find skin.
He grows hard, harder with each stroke Oliver rubs along the length of him until it's almost too much. He's pressed into the wall near the bed, but it's not close enough and Barry doesn't care so much to get there. This is just fine, and God it feels so - so good.
He hums a low sound of pleasure. ]
no subject
With as much women as Oliver's slept with, Barry's mouth is just as nice as any of theirs, if not nicer.
He feels him grow thick in his grip, becoming stiffer even faster than Oliver anticipates (which is ridiculous because it's the Flash). Palm pressing tighter at a crown, he rubs distractedly around it with a thumb as he begins to undo his own jeans, nudging them down enough to let a hard cock go free. ]
Barry. [ He whispers low and raspy, edging in closer to press the length of his own erection against the other. Rocking his hips, the hardened skin rub together, a jolt of pleasure pouring through him. Barry. This is Barry. Barry has him hard and needy, has him grinding against him into a wall, suddenly drowning in the revelation this is far better than touching himself. Nipping at lips, he licks at Barry's mouth, hungrily, the low groan from his throat showcasing that he isn't holding back on this. ]
no subject
Barry's well aware of how closed Oliver can be, how little of himself he reveals. Barry doesn't know Oliver in all the ways he wants to, but this is something special, he knows this much. This isn't something just everyone gets to see or experience.
(He wonders if Oliver's been with other men before.
He also realizes it doesn't matter.)
He tilts his head, presses kisses across the stubbly chin of his partner, dips lower to kiss his collar bone, momentarily resting his forehead in the crook of his shoulder while Oliver rubs him, up and down, up and down. Barry reaches for Oliver, pushing his jeans down as far as they could go while he's still standing up, and reaches for his penis in kind. ]
Mm, yes. Oliver.