Barry just needed to relax, his job was something he loved, teaching kids the joy of science, trying to be their friend and help them, it was everything he’d ever wanted. It was just that lately he was having more and more trouble, the kids were more rambunctious than usual, probably a result of it getting so close to winter break, but nothing had prepared him for one Michael Snart.
The kid was adorable and so bright for his age, he could charm anyone into anything even at his young age, which only belied how dangerous he was. Okay, Dangerous may be too strong a word, but considering Barry had already gotten in trouble with principal Wells for not noticing Michael had smuggled one of his Formaldehyde Animals out of the chemistry classroom and used it to terrify some kids in the lunchroom he had to be more vigilant.
And vigilant he was, it seemed he had to spend most of his time with Michael or reigning Michael in, and it didn’t seem to be that the kid wanted to be bad, at least that’s how Barry saw it. He was just bored, he was far too smart for this class, but no one higher up would listen when Barry told them. Or more likely they didn’t believe that Michael’s problems were that he was too intelligent, they just saw a kid with behavior problems and wrote him off.
So of course Barry had needed to blow off steam, which is exactly why he finds himself at Saints and Sinners. He knows the kinds of people who come here, knows if anyone from work saw him here he’d be given dirty looks, but he just needed one night of freedom. One night with someone looking after him instead of him having to be the one struggling to maintain control.
Barry didn’t wear anything special, frankly he was hoping by the end of the night he wouldn’t be wearing anything so what did it matter. He just had on a pair of dark jeans, maybe a bit tighter than usual, and a plain white t-shirt. He’d considered wearing his leather jacket, but last time he’d done that he’d gotten hit on by the wrong type of guy, and he wasn’t looking for that tonight. He didn’t need 10 twinks telling him they were into thin guys with big cocks, as if every tall, skinny guy was hung like a porn star.
Grabbing a drink he sat at the bar a respectable distance from everyone. His eyes scoped out the place, not exactly seedy, but definitely the kind of place you wouldn’t want to be caught in. There were a few prospects, but nobody really caught his eye for more than a passing glance.
That was until the bartender handed him a drink and pointed to the other end of the bar. When Barry’s eyes met the smiling man staring back at him it felt like ice ran down his spine. Normally Barry wasn’t exactly into the daddy kink thing, but he would call that man Daddy if he asked. He was older than him, bald but it looked by choice not his age. A leather jacket clung to his body over a fitted black shirt. He was drinking a beer, and once their eyes met the man didn’t let go. Barry was frozen to the spot as the man approached him.
“Well hello, gorgeous,” the man said, his voice smooth as ice, not exactly deep but tinged with that hint of confidence and power that had Barry feeling weak in the knees already.
“H-hi,” Barry said, feeling a bit tongue-tied as he just breathed, taking in the man’s scent up close, all leather and something sharp and almost wintry, like mint.
Shaking it off for a moment Barry realized he needed to actually say something instead of just stand there gawping. “Um, hi, my name’s B-” he barely got a few words out before the older man’s finger reached out and rested over his lips, silencing him with a touch.
“Shh, I’m not interested in names tonight, and judging by the way you were scoping out everyone in here, I don’t think you are either,” the man said, lips quirking into a lascivious grin.
Barry nearly turned beet red at being caught out so easily, he’d thought he was at least somewhat subtle about what he wanted. “How do you know that?” Barry replied, trying his best not to sound like a child with their hand in the cookie jar.
“I’m good at reading people. And if that weren’t enough, the way you blushed so prettily when I said it confirmed it all, Scarlet...”
The words seemed to just flow off the man’s tongue, and that only made Barry focus on his lips more, of what those lips could be doing and where they could go. Slowly he found himself nodding along, tacitly agreeing to whatever this man wanted. If he had been thinking more it probably would have been exactly what he wanted but was afraid to admit. Just a one night fling, one night of passion and pleasure and release before going back to his job and his life and everything else.
“OK,” Barry finally answered, smiling as he took a sip of his drink. Then thinking he needed it, he downed the rest. That seemed to make the other man grin, setting down his own beer as he finished it.
“Ready then Scarlet?” the older man said, looking like the cat that got the canary.
“Sure, but it’s no fair you already getting a nickname for me, I don’t have anything to call you.”
“Well, If you’re… Amenable, I guess you could call me Daddy, I’m used to it,” the man answered, smirking at Barry mischievously. He put out a hand to shake and Barry took it, feeling how cold it was from the chilled beer he’d been holding so long.
“Cold,” Barry said, then smiled, “that’s what I’ll call you tonight. Cold.”
Cold rolled his eyes, but he didn’t seem offended. “Oh if my sister could hear that, she’d laugh,” Cold told him, and Barry wasn’t sure if he was supposed to know anything about the man, but it felt nice. It felt a little less mysterious, like a glimpse behind the mask we wear for others.
They walked outside together, Barry’s hand warming Cold’s, before stopping near the parking lot.
“Did you drive?” Cold asked him.
Barry shook his head, “Ubered here, figured I’d be drinking.”
“Then I can give us a ride back to your place?” Cold suggested, eyebrow arching slightly. It occurred to Barry that the man wasn’t inviting him over, but then again he didn’t mind him coming to his place. He’d moved out specifically so he could have that kind of privacy.
“Sure, where’s your car?” Barry asked, looking around.
“Not a car,” Cold said, leading them to a motorcycle with two helmets.
Warning signs were going off in his head, his parents would have a fit if he was on a motorcycle, which was a silly though considering he was an adult and long past needing their approval. Also Uncle Joe would be pissed that he was going to let Cold drive him after he knew he’d had at least one drink, but Barry was just ready to be carefree and hope for the best.
Smiling he took the helmet and put it on, blushing once more as Cold patted the seat behind him and told him to “hold on tight.”
Hold on tight Barry did, taking in that enticing scent of the larger man, arms wrapped around him. He loved how the man wasn’t so hard like a lot of guys he saw there, he was a bit soft in the middle. Not heavy, but the kind of normal body that made you think of hot dad bod. His mind swirled thinking of seeing Cold naked, of what all they’d do when they got back to his apartment.
By the time they arrived Barry was already painfully hard from his fantasies and feeling that strong body so close to his. He took Cold’s hand and practically flashed up the stairs and towards his apartment, barely getting the door unlocked and open before he felt Cold’s hands on him.
The man pinned him against the door, kissing him hard and frantic, desperate like he had struggled to contain himself until they got there. Barry’s mouth opened on a moan, giving Cold ample opportunity to dart his tongue inside and slide over Barry’s teeth, curl their tongues around one another.
Their hips slotted together just right, their similar heights making everything line up perfectly. Barry moaned wantonly, glad he’d made sure he prepped himself a bit before he left, because from what he could feel pressing against his thigh he was going to have trouble walking tomorrow if he hadn’t.
His own hands itched to touch, but the moment he reached out Cold caught both his wrists and pressed them up above his head. There was no need for words, one look from the man’s icy glare and he knew to keep them there. It sent chills down his spine to have someone see through him, he was practically vibrating with need at the prospect of Cold breaking him down so expertly, of knowing somehow just what he needed, what he wanted, and giving it to him.
Cold’s hand were on him now, making his flesh tingle with goosebumps from the difference in temperature. He left trails of it as he rucked up Barry’s shirt, feeling his abs, ghosting over his nipples before pinching and twisting them, drawing out gasping moans from Barry’s already bitten-red lips. Cold started to pull the shirt up and off, exposing Barry’s body to more cold than just the man, but when he got it almost all the way off he stopped, staring at Barry in silent question. Finding what he was looking for Cold began to wrap Barry’s own shirt around his wrists and hands, effectively binding his hands above his head.
Barry was so hard it felt like he might faint, all the blood in his body rushing south. Of course, then Cold would do something like sucking on his neck or biting his nipple and the blood would rush back up, not knowing where to settle. As Cold was biting the other nipple, watching it marble and harden, he began to unbuckle Barry’s pants.
A hand slid inside, working his clothed shaft and making Barry gasp. “Fuck!” Barry moaned, knowing there was a huge wet spot in his underwear already, this was only going to make things worse.
Before Barry had much time to adjust to the new sensations of Cold stroking him, he felt himself roughly turned around, face pressed into the door. He felt Cold kneel behind him, pulling his pants down and off along with his shoes and socks, leaving him in only his red jock with the yellow straps that perfectly framed his ass and the shirt tying his hands together.
It was thrilling to be this revealed, knowing that Cold was still fully dressed, not even taking off his jacket, and had Barry entirely at his mercy in his own home. Cold hands massaged his ass before he felt one, then two smacks, one spanking on each cheek. Barry had never thought he was into that kind of thing, but by the way his cock twitched and spurted more pre-cum he had to wonder if he didn’t need to reconsider some things.
Strong hands slipped beneath the straps of his jock, groping his ass and pulling his cheeks apart to leave him completely bare to Cold. He felt cool air blown over his pucker before a tongue began to lave over his entrance. He nearly passed out right here, he was so turned on and he’d never had a man actually do that to him, and he was realizing he really, really liked it.
Barry began to moan so loudly he worried his neighbors might hear, and also if Cold had this effect on him just by this, how was he going to deal with what it felt like when they got to the real deal. Cold was relentless, wringing every ounce of pleasure from Barry with just his tongue, working him open until his tongue could press inside, making Barry’s knees actually buckle, Cold catching him and pressing him against the door harder so as not to fall.
“Please...Cold, please,” he begged, not sure what he was even begging for, more of this, or just more of anything. Cold didn’t stop though, just redoubled his efforts to make Barry cum from just this it felt like. Finally Barry felt something inside him break, feeling himself give in fully to his desires and let go. “Please… Please Daddy...” he moaned as he bucked his ass back into the man’s face.
Over the sound of his own moans and pleading he could just hear Cold chuckle, dark and rumbling before spanking him again hard. He gave him one last lick before standing up and crowding him against the door again, slipping his head beside Barry and claiming his lips once more.
“Good boy,” he whispered into his ear, one hand slipping beneath the band of his jock and gripping Barry’s length. He gave him a few strokes before moving down to tug on his balls. “Don’t cum until I say you can, understood?”
Barry nodded as best as he could with his mind reeling from all that was happening to his body. It was only a moment later he was turned again and then hoisted onto Cold’s shoulder.
“Am I getting the cold shoulder?” he asked, a bit breathless as he laughed, which was quickly cut off by a loud moan as Cold began to spank him as they walked.
He was tossed unceremoniously onto the bed, eyes dilating as he stared up at Cold who was slowly peeling his jacket off, followed by his shirt. Next came his pants, and that’s when Barry realized the older man wasn’t wearing anything underneath them. He gulped when the man’s massive manhood was revealed, hearing Cold laugh at him as he realized he was actually licking his lips just staring indulgently.
With a predatory grin Cold crawled up the bed, capturing Barry's lips and kissing him as their bodies rutted together, Barry whimpering at the feel of that thick cock sliding against his clothed one. That went on for a while until Cold was finally showing some signs this was affecting him too, panting and moaning into Barry’s mouth.
Pulling back, he scooted up the bed on his knees, stopping right above Barry, thick cock hanging right above his lips. “Open,” he said, and Barry did obediently, suckling on the head like it was the only thing that mattered, and in that moment it kind of was. Despite the massive girth stretching his jaw to its limits, Barry was nothing if not a diligent and enthusiastic cocksucker, making out with Cold’s cock and taking as much as he could. Barry gagged a bit, but kept going, needing to show how good he could be, to please so he could be taken care of. Fingers carded his hair before gripping and pulling taught, holding him in place. Cold fed him more of his length, fucking into Barry’s mouth slow and steady, making him take more and more until he was able to open his throat and really get fucked by the man.
He stared up with watery eyes and found that Cold was already staring down at him. His hand met Barry’s cheek and stroked it softly. “You look so beautiful like this Scarlet,” the older man said, the praise making Barry preen and moan around the cock in his mouth.
Cold pulled off, but never let his eyes stray from Barry. “Condoms, lube?” he asked.
Barry tried to answer but his voice was too scratchy and sore from moaning and getting throat fucked. Instead he pointed to the nightstand drawer and Cold nodded, reaching over towards it.
That’s when he heard a chuckle and Cold came back with the lube and a Condom, but also with handcuffs. “And what are these?” Cold asked, making Barry go red again. He’d honestly forgot he even had those, it was supposed to be a gag gift back when he’d been dating a guy from CCPD, but he’d never gotten around to using them. He didn’t usually trust that much.
When Cold held them in front of his face and asked “should I use these?” though, Barry’s mind went blank with desire and he nodded, trusting Cold would take care of him, would make him feel good and not take advantage of him.
He watched with baited breath as Cold opened that gold package, rolling the condom down his impressive length. That was something he admired, that Cold knew to show him he’d used the condom, even if Barry himself was on PreP, it was reassuring to see someone that made sure he knew he was being safe. Of course Cold was from a different generation so safe sex started with condoms for him he guessed.
Cold turned him over, gentler this time, before untying his hands and tossing Barry’s shirt off the side of the bed. The man brought each of Barry’s wrists up to his lips, kissing them softly before placing them behind his back and cuffing him.
The moment the last cuff clicked shut Barry realized the enormity of the situation, that he barely knew this man, they’d probably said less than twenty words to one another, didn’t even know each other’s names, and yet, Barry trusted him implicitly, knew that Cold would take care of him. He was completely at Cold’s mercy, and yet he’d never felt more free.
Cold leaned down and kissed his back, trailing down his spine before licking a long stripe down over his hole. The click of the lube cap was heard and then he could feel the head pressing against his hole just as Cold moved closer to his ear, blanketing his body. “I’m going to take ti slow, but if you need me to stop or go slower, let me know,” he whispered, kissing his cheek before moving back into position.
Barry did his best to relax, even with that insistent pressure against him, and eventually Cold pushed past his first ring. Barry was panting, face buried in his pillow as Cold inched his way in further, going glacially slow. It wasn’t something he’d readily admit, but Barry loved it fast and hard, but he appreciated Cold taking his time, the man was thicker than any toy he had and longer than any man he’d ever been with. The stretch and burn were more than he was used to, but he loved it, especially once Cold’s thickness brushed against that spot inside he always had trouble finding. Of course he should have known with a man that thick he’d be getting his spot massaged almost relentlessly.
Barry had been with men that cared more about their own pleasure, going too fast and too hard, not giving him time to adjust, but Cold was almost methodical, a few inches in, then pull out and press in again. Over and over until it was almost maddening, but when Cold finally bottomed out, his pelvis kissing Barry’s ass, Barry moaned, not even realizing he had taken it all.
“Da-ddy,” he whimpered, rutting back against Cold’s cock, feeling how full he was. How was he ever going to feel like this again, he actually was was worried this might ruin him for other men. Barry had never thought of himself as a size queen but this was heaven.
Cold made love to him slow and gentle, kissing and biting at his neck, driving Barry absolutely insane with pleasure. He’d never taken off the jock so his cock was still trapped in front, staining his underwear, but he didn’t care because this was the best sex he’d ever had.
“Mind if I speed things up a bit, Scarlet?” Cold whispered, and all Barry could do was moan brokenly.
Taking that as a yes, Cold pulled back, hands tight on Barry’s hips forcing him into a face down ass up position. His knees were pressed apart, spreading his hips wide and giving Cold complete control over him. As before he started slow, but began to pick up the pace until he was pulling almost all the way out and slamming back in with every thrust.
Cold’s hands came down to hold each of Barry’s, doubly pinioning him, making him feel owned in a way he couldn’t describe and was a bit scared to admit how much he enjoyed. Every thought of anything but the man making him feel the most pleasure in his life slid out of Barry's head, this was exactly what he’d needed and he almost wanted to cry with how good Cold made him feel.
It took Barry a couple minutes to realize the screams and broken moans and sobs he was hearing were all coming from him, he was that lost in the pleasure of it all. Then he felt it, burning in his stomach, a tug, his balls getting tighter and pleasure washing over him. It started deeper than he was used to, like the orgasm was building from inside him and he couldn’t speak anything coherent, chants of “Cold, Harder, Daddy, Please, Oh god!” That pressure massaging him from inside, the pace and the feel of Cold, the way the man held his hips so tight he thought he might bruise in the best way, it was all too much and before Barry could do anything he came hard.
His cock erupted within his jock, untouched but no less pleasurable as he came over and over, his hole clamping down around Cold hard, making him impossibly tighter. There was a loud, guttural groan from above him as Cold found his own release, but Barry could hardly focus on anything except the blinding pleasure he was riding out.
Cold collapsed atop Barry’s back for a moment, panting with exertion. After a few moments the man pulled out of him and rolled over onto his back. Barry’s hand reached out only for Cold to stand up, and for one horrible moment Barry thought the man was going to leave him like this.
Thankfully he was just tossing the condom away, and when Cold came back he undid the handcuffs and rolled Barry over. Barry’s eyes looked up at Cold, searching for something. The man just stared back at him, taking his wrists and slowly rubbing them, making sure Barry’s circulation hadn’t been cutoff by the cold metal, soothing any minor aches. Then he pulled off Barry’s sticky mess of a jock, licking his cock clean and using the soiled fabric to clean up his thighs the best he could before rolling Barry onto his side and spooning him.
Barry was still blissed out from it all, from having someone so intimately know and anticipate his needs and give them to him, take care of him the way he longed for in the bedroom. It was truly one of the best experiences he’d ever had. He felt the press of Cold’s lips on his back, his shoulders, teasing and caressing in turn. Their bodies were both warmer now, huddled together on his bed in the darkness.
“Goodnight, Scarlet,” Cold whispered, one arm reaching over him and taking Barry’s hand. Barry squeezed it, thinking about how even if they hadn’t exchanged names, even if this was just a one night stand, it was possibly the most romantic sex he’d ever had.
“G’night Cold...” Barry should have been amped up after that intense sex, but he found himself just exhausted in the best way. It was like he’d been so taut and strung out and just one night with Cold had released all that tension and pressure, at least for the night. He fell asleep fast, feeling safe and happy for the first time in a long time.
When Barry awoke the next morning, eyes braced against the blinding glare of the sun, he was alone in bed. It was rare for him to have visitors in his bed, but usually he noticed someone getting up in the night. The fact he hadn’t was a testament to how relaxed and restful his sleep had been after his encounter with Cold.
When Barry returned to work on Monday it felt like he had the energy to conquer the world. He was still riding high on the good mood that Cold had left him with, even if he lamented he might not see him again.
“Someone had a good weekend!” Jesse says, full of her usual pep as she passes Barry to leave when he enters the Teacher’s Lounge.
“It was… Fine,” Barry, says, trying to hide his blush even though he knows he can write it off as from the cold. He walks towards the coffeepot only to take a detour when he sees Cisco and Wells there making wistful faces at one another.
It isn’t like everyone doesn’t know they’re dating, but with Wells being Principal he’s not exactly supposed to be dating one of the teachers, even if Cisco is up for promotion to the head of the district’s tech department.
Instead Barry sidles over towards the table where the other teachers are congregated, trying to catch their conversation.
“I swear he must have read something about Brown Notes and he’s trying to recreate one,” Dennis, the theatre director states with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Hah! I’ve got you beat,” Hartley says, tapping at his hearing aid. “He managed to fiddle with his phone until it produce a sound only my hearing aid could pick up. I spent an entire class trying to figure out if my battery was going dead.”
“Who are we talking about again?” Caitlin asks, sipping her iced coffee, and frankly Barry isn’t sure how she can stand to drink something so cold in this weather.
“The Snart kid, of course,” Hartley answers.
“Hey, he’s just bored. I’ve tried to tell Principal Wells but he refuses to listen,” Barry interrupts.
They all stare at him, silently judging.
“He’s a menace.” Dennis stands up and fixes his suit, always keeping it immaculate. “I need to go lock down the oboes in the orchestra pit before he finds out about them. Hartley, don’t you teach them about anymore instruments.”
“That’s kind of my job Den,” Hartley answers, pointing to the stack of music theory papers he’s grading.
“I’m just saying, if he accosts my drama class with another rendition of ‘Smooth Criminal’ on his latest instrument of torture we’ll be having a talk when you get home.”
“Yes ‘Music Meister’” Hartley intones sarcastically. He makes a show of turning off his hearing aid so his husband can’t retort. Barry watches as Dennis tosses his hands up and storms off, exit stage right.
“If it’s any consolation, I agree with you Barry,” Caitlin says, placing a hand over Barry’s. “Michael is very intelligent… If not a bit rambunctious.”
“See!” Barry exclaims, a little too loudly. “Sorry. But I mean, he just wants attention. He’s too smart for his grade level, he should have been jumped up.”
“I agree, but you know Wells. If they aren’t a prodigy, or at least his vision of a prodigy, then he’ll leave them to us.”
Barry’s mood is still high from his weekend activities, but his patience is tested when he gets to class and finds Michael and another boy already fighting. Running over he breaks it up as best as he can, checking that no serious damage has occurred before sending them both to the office.
“John Jr. is in charge until I get back, just do your reading to get prepared for our lab,” Barry says before following Michael and William out and leading them to the Principal’s office.
“What do we have here?” Ms. Sharpe says, peering over her glasses as Barry and the kids walk in.
“A fight...” Barry sighs, already knowing that this isn’t going to go well.
True to form, Wells listens only to William, who Barry knows full well was probably just as at fault for their little schoolyard scuffle as Michael. Of course Wells isn’t going to throw the book at the Mayor’s son, so Michael is the one that gets ISS, and an emergency parent teacher conference.
As soon as Michael hears his parents are going to be called about his behavior he palls, becomes apologetic and begs not to have his dad called. Barry’s heart hurts for him, and he wonders why Michael is so worried. They head back to class and Barry feels ticked off that William is acting smug while Michael looks cowed and nervous the rest of the day. He just knows that William must have started their little fight and he ended up leading Michael right to the proverbial slaughter.
After school Michael lags behind the other kids, stealing glances at the clock and back towards Barry’s desk.
“Is there a problem Michael?” Barry asks, knowing there has to be something the boy wants to say.
Michael takes a few steps closer, hunching his backpack over his shoulder. His face is set with determination, but he can see the indecision in his eyes, the boy too young to hide his emotions that well. Finally he seems to choose what he wants to say, staring up at Barry with sad eyes.
“Please don’t tell my Dad I’ve been bad. He has enough to worry about… I’m sorry, I’ll be better, I promise.” Michael looks on the verge of tears and Barry hopes the kid isn’t just playing him because he seriously feeling bad about not doing more to keep Michael from getting in trouble.
“I’m sorry Michael but I’m going to have to discuss your behavior with your parents at our conference. It’s my job.”
Michael looks apologetic, fingers gripping the strap of his backpack tightly. “Please? I promise I’ll be better, I won’t cause trouble in your class any more! I… I’ll even try to be good in my other classes!”
Barry sighs, standing up and walking around the desk, taking a seat on the front of it.
“Look Michael… I know you aren’t causing trouble just for the fun of it. At least not most of the time. You’re bored, you’re inquisitive. You’re one of my brightest students, but you have to start following the rules, and not just in my class. I promise I’ll make sure your Dad knows what I just told you, but I can’t just lie about the reason you got in trouble, alright?”
Michael looks down, chastised, before nodding solemnly.
“Ok, now make sure you give your parents the slip Wells gave you or you’re gonna be in even more trouble, and I don’t want that for you kid.”
“It’s just my Dad.”
“Huh?” Barry questions, fingers thrumming on the desk.
“Not my parents, just my Dad.”
“Okay, well, make sure your Dad gets it alright?”
Michael just nods, and Barry waves him off so he doesn’t miss his bus.
It’s the end of the week before Mr. Snart can find a time that works to meet Barry in person. He’d e-mailed him that same night apologizing for Michael’s behavior. Barry assured him that they would discuss it all at their meeting, but to not be too hard on Michael.
Barry’s thoughts the entire week had pretty much ping-ponged between worrying about Michael and how he could help the kid before things got worse for him with his behavior, and wishing for just one more night with Cold. His stress was already returning and he needed it again. For a moment Barry even considered heading to Saints and Sinners once more, but he couldn’t be that reckless when he had school to teach. What kind of an example would he be coming to school hungover.
Friday afternoon came and Barry had almost forgotten about the meeting, filling his thoughts with all the papers and tests he had to grade which meant he wouldn’t be going out this week like he’d hoped. He was in the middle of trying to concisely explain in the margins why just because they were both called salt didn’t mean they were actually the same thing chemically when he heard a knock on the door.
“Come in, I’m just finishing this,” he said, thinking it was just Caitlin or Cisco come to check on his progress and lament their workloads.
“So… This is the famous Mr. Allen my son can’t stop talking about,” came a smooth voice that sent shivers down Barry’s spine.
His eyes shot up and his jaw nearly dislocated at the speed at which it dropped.
“Cold?!” Barry squeaked, voice suddenly tight and strained.
Cold, Mr Snart it seemed as Barry’s mind put the pieces together, smirked.
“Well… I didn’t think getting called to an emergency parent teacher conference would ever have an upside...” Snart smirked, taking a seat atop one of the desks.
“Nice to officially meet you, Leonard Snart, you can call me Len,” the older man said, “since I don’t think your other name is too appropriate here.”
The suggestive raise of eyebrows Len gave him made Barry go red in the face.
Heart beating fast, Barry stood up, putting out a hand to shake, trying not to focus on how Len’s hands felt holding him down, or inside him, and just on the task at hand.
“Barry Allen. I, well, obviously I’m your son’s teacher.”
“Yes I know. You’re the only one he seems to like. He never stops talking about you.”
And now Barry is blushing for an entirely different reason. It’s no secret he prides himself on his job, but to hear that even a child considered a problem student appreciates him is a joy.
“He does? You aren’t just saying that to butter me up are you?”
“Oh, if I was trying to butter you up I think you’d know Barry,” Len says, and the almost purr he gives to Barry’s name makes his knees weak.
“So… Uh, all things aside, we do need to speak about Michael.”
Len’s face turns serious then at the first mention of his son’s predicament.
“I’m sorry Michael has been acting up. I tried everything to make sure he would behave, but I guess the Snart genes run too strong.”
Barry shakes his head, realizing Len doesn’t quite understand.
“No, Michael is great. I mean, yes, he does cause a bit of trouble form time to time, especially for the other teachers, but a lot of that is because he’s… Well, frankly he’s-”
“A problem?” Len says, and there’s so much hurt in his voice, a look like he’s heard this before, and whether it was directed at Michael, or maybe even at Len himself many years ago, the hurt registers nonetheless. It’s unguarded in a way Barry realizes Len doesn’t show as often.
“No. That’s just it. Michael is one of the brightest boys I’ve ever seen. He’s incredibly intelligent, resourceful, he has a way of persuading just about anyone to go along with him, he’s funny and confident. Yes, he gets into a fair bit of trouble, but I’ve noticed that it’s almost always because he's bored. This school has a lot of resources for children like Michael, those that are advanced for their age, but they aren’t being properly allocated towards your son.”
Taking a deep breath, Barry continues even knowing this could get him in trouble with the top brass. “Michael should have probably tested out of his grade. At least in some of his subjects, he talks and jokes and interrupts because when he actually does the work, he finishes far before anyone else. Some of the pranks he’s pulled are things I’d expect from college students, not a kid. Your son is very gifted, and most of his problems are from the school not meeting his needs. I’ve done my best to get them to test him, to try to explain his predicament, but I’ve not had any luck.”
When Barry finishes he watches Len’s face, notices how it’s melted into one of relief. He can see the man physically slump in his seat, relaxed, but also a hint of irritation.
“So… He’s… He’s not a bad kid? That isn’t why you called me in?”
“God no!” Barry is emphatic with his answer. “Yes, like I said he has his problems. But I think we can come up with a plan to help him, I’ve been putting out feelers to some of the other teachers to see if maybe I can import some more work for him that can challenge him. I think you should talk to Principal Wells though, advocate for him to get tested so we can show that his problems aren’t stemming from just being rebellious or hyperactive. I think Michael can really go far, in whatever he chooses to do, but we can’t fail him or he can quickly lose that inquisitive spirit and love of learning that I know he has.”
“I… Thank you. I will, I will schedule a meeting with the Principal. And don’t worry, I can be very persuasive, as you well know.”
Barry doesn’t flush as much that time, just stands and walks around the table.
“I know. Michael seems to be a lot like his father. I really want to make sure he gets the help he needs to do his best at the school. No one deserves to get left behind or ignored, especially someone as talented as Michael.”
Before Barry can say anything Len has wrapped him in a hug, tight and warmer than he expected, making his mind flit back to when they spooned after their night together.
When Len pulls away he seems surprised himself at having done it. “Sorry I just… I’ve dealt with a lot of teachers over the years and no one has ever, ever taken the time to really listen to my son, to what he needs. I’ve been told so many times he was a problem, he was too rowdy, destructive, all kinds of terrible things. I knew my boy was good… Better than his old man,” Len smiles at that, “but I’ve never had a teacher tell me what I already knew. How bright he is, how good. So thank you for finally seeing my son the way I do.”
“Trust me it’s my pleasure to have him in class. Even if I could deal with a bit less disruption.” Barry laughs, taking off his glasses and setting them down.
“I’ll talk to him. I’ll let him know he needs to be more mindful and respectful.”
“And not just me, with his other teachers too. If he can show he can be good with them we’ll have a better shot at getting their support for having him moved up a grade or at least recognized for what he needs from them. And you can tell him what I said, about him being good. I told him myself, but I know he was really worried about you coming in today, and I guess I understand now why if you’ve both had problems with teachers before.”
Len nods, and the love written in his face for his son makes the man even more attractive than he was the first time they met. Barry almost forgets he isn’t supposed to stare, but when their eyes meet Len is smiling back at him.
“I should probably get going. My sister won’t be able to distract Michael forever.” Len nods towards the parking lot outside, and he can’t see them but he can imagine Michael nervously awaiting the results of their meeting.
“It was good meeting you, again,” Barry says, shaking Len’s hand once more, glad he has the desk to lean against because he’s pretty sure he's falling for the man even harder.
“Good meeting you again too Barry,” Len says, lips quirking into a soft smile. Their hands slide apart and Len heads for the door. Before Barry can collect his bearings though Len pauses, hand clasped against the jamb of the door.
“You think we could maybe talk more about Michael another time? What your ideas are for helping him and dealing with Principal Wells. Maybe over dinner?” Len asks, and Barry is smart enough to read what’s on Len’s face.
That isn’t just an invitation to talk about Michael, it’s something more. It’s something he didn’t know he wanted, needed, until that moment.
“I’d love to.”
“Good. I’ll be in touch. And again, Thanks Scarlet,” Len says, giving him a wink before heading out.
Barry sits down, thinking about all that had happened, of Michael and the way his heart hurt whenever he saw the boy frown, of Len and the way his heart swelled at every word and touch, at the way Len’s love for his son made him all the more handsome, and he realized there was no risk of falling for Len. He’d fell on his knees for that man from the first meeting and he didn’t see that changing anytime soon.