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Starling

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Barry was so far gone he was unable to process what was happening and even more so unable to speak. It wasn’t the pain, he could handle it even though he was way over what was comfortable. It was realizing that Len wasn’t in control. At some point he had wanted it all to stop but his unending plea of no! please no, stop! never made it out of his lips. There were fear and tears in his eyes but Len didn't see it, didn't see him anymore.

“Starling!”

It was Mick’s voice but it couldn’t be, Mick wasn’t supposed to be there tonight. Len froze suddenly, startled. He turned to Mick with a vicious snarl and Mick grabbed his wrists, pushing him away from Barry.

“Enough Snart! Look at him, just look at him for god sake!”

Len seemed to wake from his daze and truly looked at Barry since what felt like eons. Barry still couldn't find his voice but tears now streamed steadily into his hairline. Len let out a strangled noise and all tension left him suddenly. As soon as he was sure that he would stay away, Mick turned to Barry. He took a knife in his pocket and cut his bonds quickly then cradled him tenderly, avoiding the nasty cold burn on his stomach that looked like it would take time to heal but otherwise making sure he had as much skin to skin contact as possible. He kept a continuous stream of pleas for forgiveness and assurances he would never let things go so far again, apologizing for things he didn't do and pledging his life he would protect Barry forever.

Barry was regaining his senses under his tender loving care and soon noticed the sobbing noises of despair that came from Len. He tried pushing Mick away but he wouldn't let go so he said the one word he was sure he would never forget again.

“Starling.” He said it softly, tenderly but Mick started, letting go of him with wild eyes.

“It's okay Mick, I'm okay. I'll be fine but Len needs you now. I can wait, just go to him, please.”

Mick spared a look for his partner and saw that he still laid where he'd been pushed, utter despair on his face. Mick reached for him and Len cringed as if he was about to strike him.

Barry tried his strength and found that he could move. He crawled to Len and took him in his arms, hugging his lover tightly and refusing to let go however much Len tried to pry him away. Then Mick did the same on the other side of him and they stayed there a long while, petting Len between them, cuddling and telling each other that they were sorry and promising it was okay and that they wouldn't run away and that it would all be fine eventually. Len was shaking, his skin chillier than ever. He looked at the bulky man who was cradling his face softly and the plea in his voice was something Barry had never heard from him before.

“Mick, please.”

Mick seemed to know what was so desperately needed. He reached for Len's wrists and squeezed them in an iron grip. He quickly appraised Barry and saw that he had mostly recovered.

“Barry, fetch a new rope.”

With it, he tied Len in a way that looked viciously efficient and messy and had nothing to do with the delicate rope work he usually performed on Barry. These ropes were taut to the point that Barry feared Len would have trouble breathing, the loops crossing one another on his skin, increasing points of pressure with knots unforgivingly biting the flesh, stretching him in an awkward position, arms bent up over a bar hanging from the ceiling, ankles spread wide apart across the bed, body teetering on the knees. Len had not let out a single sound and now that he was entirely immobilized, he just sighed in acknowledgment.

Only then did Mick break the skin contact he'd maintained with him. He went to the far wall, opened a drawer and came back with a whip. Barry shivered, suddenly scared. Mick patted him slightly and motioned for him to sit in front of Len but instructed him not to touch him yet.

“How many?”

“Twenty.”

Mick blanched. Len had never asked for this much. Twenty blows with the whip would make open wounds that would never heal properly. He made up his mind quickly.

“No. Ten.”

“Twenty. Please.”

“No Len, I won't give you twenty whip blows. You don't deserve that kind of pain. I'll give you ten and it's already too much.”

“Fine. Just do it.”

Mick started with little flickers of his wrist that didn't look like much, but by the noise it made as the tip of the whip landed on skin, must have already been rather painful. Len didn't twitch.

“Stop playing around and go for it.”

“No, I'm not gonna hurt you Len.”

“I'm asking you to.”

“I know what you want and it's not what you need. I'm gonna give you what you really need Len, just trust me.”

Len fell silent. His skin was glowing, red and hot. Mick stopped and rubbed roughly the sensitized patch. He reached for Barry's hand and positioned it on Len's head. Barry started petting him gently, understanding that he was to provide comfort while Mick would give pain so as to ground their lover.

Len started to moan softly under the caress but it somehow was both wanton and anguished and Barry saw a gleaming tear land on the pillow. He made sure he was out of whip’s way, settled on the bed and kissed Len lightly all over the face, licking his tears and whispering loving words in his ear, telling him it was okay and he was okay and whatever happened earlier would be okay eventually. Mick resumed his small flicks then added some strength to it, finally making Len groan from the sting of it.

Len was slowly but steadily losing his trademark cool under the blows Mick administered. Barry never suspected he could be such a master with a whip although he should have known that a device that made one's temperature rise so spectacularly would interest him. Mick increased the strength and pace of the blows for about ten seconds then stopped again. He rubbed the angry patch of skin then quickly checked the bonds. He gave a light kiss to Barry and saw he was determined to stay by Len’s side, however much he just suffered from his hand.

When Mick resumed his whipping, he applied some real force to it and this time Leonard couldn’t prevent his cries of pain. Mick made it shorter than the two previous sessions and stopped quickly. He knew that to Len the time had felt much longer. He checked the tension in his body and let him relax a bit but knew he couldn’t stop too long or he would lose the benefit of preparing Len for what was now imminent.

“Hold him Bear. Len, you will count.”

“Yes sir.”

The first blow was deceptively anticlimactic. Len’s lung emptied but he was unable to produce any sound.

“Count!”

Len labored a breath in and counted. The second blow followed immediately and Len counted again. He was writhing and his tears dried has his face became feverish. It was Barry’s turn to cry hot tears as he witnessed Len being punished. The sixth blow drew blood but Mick didn’t stop. The eighth blow opened a long gash on Len’s belly as the whip wrapped itself around his body. Len became a pleading mess, begging for the blows to stop and for them to be harder barely a second later. 

Mick gave the last blow and Len howled as it landed across his shoulders, on a patch of skin that hadn’t been prepared for it. Then Mick dropped the whip and untied Len’s arms then grabbed his head in his hands. He kissed and licked, gently drawing Len’s senses back to him, letting him focus on something other than the excruciating pain on his back.

When Len started reacting to his presence, Mick caught his lips and kissed deeply, silently showing his devotion. Len responded gently first then as the kiss grew more heated, he became passionate. Mick knew he had his full attention again and he wasted no time going on with the rest of the program.

He took out his cock, grabbed Len’s jaw and pried it open then shoved his half hard dick in and told Len to suck. Len complied and Mick let himself get swallowed as far as he would go. Then he started fucking Len’s mouth with deep shoves, making Len gag and moan. It was an odd sound, not only because Barry had never heard anything like it coming from Len’s mouth before but it sounded like pain and grief mixed with pleasure.

As soon as he was hard enough, Mick pushed Len’s head back and down, crushing his throat under his foot. Len’s legs were still bound to opposite sides of the bed, making his ass jut out. Mick put on a condom and positioned himself behind Len then pushed in. Len gasped, the invasion burning his unprepared hole. Mick was watching him closely and Barry thought he would at least pause to let Len get used to his presence but Mick didn’t break the rhythm he’d set with the whip and just pounded hard, bottoming out and not holding back. Barry cringed inwardly as he imagined what Len was enduring and he watched, fascinated Len’s expression change from pain to bliss. He almost started when Mick grabbed his nape and forced him down, signaling for him to suck Len’s dripping hard-on. Barry wriggled himself down and wedged his head between Len’s hips and the mattress. He took his lover in his mouth, Mick’s thrusts pushing Len’s cock  deep into his throat. Len was crying in a beautiful stream of begging pleas and prayers and he shuddered violently when he spurted hot come into Barry’s throat. Mick gave a few more hard thrusts then backed away and took off the condom. He grabbed Len’s throat brutally and forced him backwards then came on his face, fucking his mouth with his fingers. Barry came untouched at their feet.

Mick scooped Len and dropped him on the bed then came back and fetched Barry and tucked them together under a blanket.

Len still looked tensed but he was no longer falling apart. Barry opened his arms and Len scooted closer, snuggling in his embrace.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know. I forgive you.”

“Why? I hurt you.”

“You did. And you probably will again.”

“Then maybe you should leave.” His tone was bland but he didn’t make a move to push Barry away.

“Look at me.” Barry waited until Len did. “Do you want me to?”

“No.”

“Then I won’t.”

“Aren’t you scared?”

“A little bit. But this is life for you. You get hurt by the people you love, no one ever found a way around that. Living isn’t about being safe, it’s about taking a risk because it’s worth it. I’ll get hurt, by you, by Mick, by Joe, by Iris, by those who count the most and I will hurt them too. I have already. It’s not ok but it’s normal and we’ll just have to find a way to heal and make sure we don’t repeat our mistakes.”

“Barry…”

“I know,” he said, adding silently I love you too.

Len closed his eyes and a single tear fell on his pillow. He shifted and groaned.

“You ok?”

“I’m gonna be sore. And it smarts. But that’s fine.”

Barry got out of the bed and went to the kitchen. He found Mick studying the bottom of an empty bottle of beer.

“Do you have any…” He didn’t have time to finish his sentence, Mick held out a tube of salve. Barry took it but didn’t leave. He gave it back to Mick.

“I think it would be best if you did it.”

Mick grunted and followed him back to the bedroom where he gently prodded Len until he laid on his belly, offering his abused skin to his soft care. Barry laid beside them, holding Len’s hand. When he was done, Mick stretched, keeping Len between them. It usually was Barry’s place but he didn’t mind.

“Are we good?” asked Barry.

Mick answered at once and they both waited for Len to make up his mind.

“Yes, we will be.”

Overstepping Barry’s limits like this was not and would never be okay but they were going to work it out.