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Kinks & Drinks

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If this was how every gathering with these weirdos was gonna go, Len was going to ban alcohol. It only led to trouble.

Then again, it also led to the most exciting parts of these get togethers, so the parties might not be worth attending without it.

Case in point; Sara was currently explaining the rules to a game that sounded like the worst idea of all time and was sure to be the most fun of the night.

“You choose someone in the group,” she said, setting up shot glasses and making sure bottles were evenly distributed. “And you guess something about them sexually. If you guess right, they drink; if you guess wrong, you drink. Then it’s their turn to guess. No guessing on partners, that’s just an unfair headstart.”

Len wasn’t sure if he desired to know that much about the company he was currently in.

Out of the corner of his eye, Cisco handed Barry a little vial, which was accepted with a thanks and a laugh.

Well. Most of the company at least.

“I’ll go first,” Sara said, flopping down onto the couch. She pointed at Dinah. “Into choking.”

In a fit of irony, four separate people choked on their drinks.

“Jeez, don’t start off slow or anything,” Dinah said, but she was smirking. She poured a shot and knocked it back before looking to Cisco. “You’ve got pretty hair. You like having it pulled, don’t you?”

Cisco flushed a deep, practically painful looking purple, but dutifully took a drink.

Oh yeah, this was a bad idea.

As the night went on, the guesses became more outlandish and the booze supply was dwindling. Annoyingly, Len had had to take two shots, having been pinpointed as dominant and liking blindfolds by Rene and Charlie respectively. Though he had also had a few wrong guesses that kept him confident.

Barry was four shots deep; for wearing panties, liking hickies, showing no preference to gender, and being into barebacking. Which Len found... interesting.

A very tipsy Zari slung back her drink, after Felicity guessed that she enjoyed nipple play, and pointed at Ray with a limp finger. “Bottom,” she declared, slurring before slumping to her side.

“That is far too obvious, love,” John said, ignoring Ray’s protest of “hey!” Annoyingly, he was about fifteen shots in (the man was down for anything it seemed) but still seemed sober.

“Aw, let her have this one,” Sara said, stroking Zari’s head near her lap where it had landed. “Poor girl needs a win. Drink up Ray.”

Ray shrugged and took his drink, like the good sport he was.

He looked to Barry next. “You love dirty talk.”

Barry raised his shot in a cheers motion and took the drink to a small round of applause from those who hadn’t passed out yet.

That was very good to know. For no particular reason of course.

Barry looked around the room next, lips pursed, considering everyone.

Then, his eyes landed on Len, a grin spreading over his face. “Well hi there Lenny.”

“Tread carefully, Scarlet,” Len said, too much fondness to truly pull off the Captain Cold voice, especially not after a few drinks.

Barry said his head, sly smile on his face. “I’m just deciding if I wanna be this mean. I’m not sure I wanna reveal your most private sexual secret.”

Len snorted. “Something tells me you’re not privy to my most private sexual secret, Red.”

His words did nothing to curb Barry’s grin.

“Oh I think I am,” he said. “In fact, I’m so sure, I’m willing to take two shots if I’m wrong.”

A noise of bluster that didn’t quite reach Len’s gut came out before he could stop it. “Just two? Make it three.”

He’d been hoping that’d put Barry off, but no such luck. “And if I’m right?” he asked cheekily.

Len shrugged. “I can handle three shots.”

Barry’s smile widened as everyone’s eyes were on him, watching in rapt interest. No way would Barry have this much confidence without Cisco’s little concoction, not betting against Len like this. To look this at ease with teasing Len, spilling secrets, it was a goddamn, alcohol induced miracle. He leaned forward, swollen lips shining from his drinks, eyes bright. A point more akin to a jab went straight at Len.

“You want to fuck me.”


Oh, shit .

Even as the room grew ungodly, suffocatingly silent, Len did not change his position. Their gazes stayed locked; Len’s cold, giving nothing away, Barry’s warm and crinkled eyes matched his small, knowing smile.

He could lie. He was a liar, a criminal, and worse—he’d told Barry this. If anything, Barry even deserved the lie. To continually put himself in these positions where Len could hurt him? It was tempting Len’s baser instincts.

It would be so easy; to give a condescending drink up, kid and watch his cocky attitude drop to disappointment.

But for all Len called himself a liar, he was also an opportunist. And opportunity was far more important. Not to mention that he would never get this chance again if he shot Barry down now—no way would Barry let him try again.

Out of the corner of his eye, Len could see everyone’s gaze on him now, as he kept his composure, coolly regarding Barry, giving nothing away.

From the expressions on everyone’s faces, though they waited with baited breath, it seemed they weren’t waiting to see if Barry was right. No, these fuckers knew the answer—they were waiting to see if Len would confirm it.

Keeping his gaze locked with Barry’s, Len slid two shot glasses closer, lining it up with his own. He grabbed a bottle and poured them out, never taking his eyes off Barry.

Barry’s expression didn’t change, his eyes just became slightly more pleased.

Not a word was spoken as everyone watched.

Finally dropping his gaze, Len lifted each shot and tossed them back easily; one, two, three.

Once the last shot glass hit the table, Len leaned back and met Barry’s gaze once more.

It was quiet for a long moment.

Nate coughed awkwardly and looked to Sara. “Maybe we should start a new round.”

“Nope,” Sara said, popping open a new bottle and taking a drink that somehow betrayed suffering. “They ruined it, game over. Thanks guys.”

“You’re welcome,” Barry said, raising his glass in a toast with a smug grin, completely unbothered by what had just transpired.

“And now we drink,” Oliver said, opening another bottle himself.

If any group could have so easily bypassed such an enormous event, Len shouldn’t have been surprised that it was this one.

And bypass it they did, with several new drinking games that very obviously bypassed revealing anything about the group’s members. And one by one, they either hit the pillows like Zari, or went to find a more comfortable flat surface to sleep on.

At about three in the morning, Barry stretched with a yawn and slipped away from those still talking to go off in search of an unused bed.

Len watched him go, waiting an appropriate moment before snagging a bottle and a shot glass, following after.

Catching up to him in the hall, Len touched Barry’s arm and he turned, a smile coming over his face when he saw who it was.

“You looking for someplace to crash too?” he asked, eyes dark, playful.

“Actually,” Len held up the shot glass. “I came to guess something about you.”

Barry moved in closer, voice low, eyes on Len’s. “Game’s over Lenny.”

“One more round,” Len murmured, crowding into Barry as well.

A little smirk played over Barry’s face. “One more round.”

Len held up the shot glass. “You want to fuck me too.”

The smirk spread into a full grin as Barry looked back into Len’s intense gaze. He took the bottle from Len’s grip, pouring into the shot glass still in Len’s other hand.

Len’s heart jumped in his chest as Barry took the glass and drank the shot easily, tossing it aside when he finished it.

“Got me,” he said and grabbed the front of Len’s shirt, dragging him in for a bruising kiss.

Len wasted no time in sliding his hands down Barry’s hips to grip his ass, pushing him back against the wall. The kiss was messy, frantic and eager, entirely too dirty for a place where any one of their friends could find them.

“Don’t suppose you found a more private place yet?” Len asked between breathless kisses.

“Not yet,” Barry answered, hands pulling at Len’s shirt. “Find one with me.”

Finding an open bedroom was more along the lines of a slow traverse down the hall as hands tugged at clothing. Len lost his shirt halfway down the hall and gave no thought to finding it later.

Thank God Queen had a never ending apartment, since Len didn’t quite relish the idea of fucking Barry for the first time in a hallway, and they found a room near the end of the hall.

“Ollie’s gonna kill me when he realizes we ruined the sheets in the morning,” Barry grinned, fingers running over the back of Len’s skull, walking backwards to the bed.

“I don’t care,” Len informed him, sliding his hands down to the back of Barry’s thighs and lifting him.

Barry muffled his noise of surprise against Len’s lips, exhilarated smile widening, his legs wrapping around Len’s waist.

They fell back against the mattress, hands working between them at the remainder of their clothes. Barry’s hand fumbled in his pocket as Len dragged him further up the bed, a condom and a packet of lube dragging out between his fingers. Len’s head swam with the sensation and the buzz of alcohol. The only thoughts he could keep in his head were Barry and more.

Barry seemed to have the same idea of more and rocked up against Len above him, hips pushing insistently as Len yanked his pants down.

Len curled a hand around Barry’s neck, dipping Barry’s head back to bite at his throat as he was finally able to push back against Barry’s body fully naked.

Barry’s nails scratched up his back, whining as their cocks dragged together. “Lenny.”

Len groaned to the sound of Barry’s voice, his teeth scraping over Barry’s throat. He ran his hand down Barry’s side, grasping his hip. “Lube. Now.”

With a low moan, Barry tore the packet, spilling it over Len’s waiting hands.

When he had enough, Len flipped Barry easily, eliciting a quiet yelp that quickly went from a laugh to a gasp as Len gripped his waist and yanked him back next, directly onto his waiting fingers.

His head fell back and he cried out loud enough that he would surely be heard if the last of the heroes hadn’t passed out yet, but Len could not bring himself to care.

“More,” Barry commanded, echoing Len’s earlier thoughts and spurring him on.

Len scissored his fingers, thrusting faster, gripping Barry’s hip hard enough that surely a bruise would be there later.

“Lenny,” Barry whined, rocking back on Len’s fingers on an uneven rhythm. “Fuck me. Now.”

“Demanding,” Len growled, grabbing up the condom and tearing it with his teeth in a fluid motion, unwilling to cease his motions in opening Barry up. He rolled the condom on quickly and positioned himself behind Barry, moving his hand to grasp his cock and guide it to Barry’s hole.

Barry keened as the head of Len’s cock pressed inside him, shivering, no, vibrating down his spine. Len groaned at the sensation, grabbing Barry’s hips and driving in further.

He bottomed out with a gasp and fell forward, length of his body against Barry’s back, every shift of muscle, limbs, skin felt against each other.

The back of Barry’s head pressed against his shoulder, his swollen lower lip dropped low as his eyes fluttered shut, revelling in every inch of his body consumed by sensation.

Steadying himself on the mattress with one hand, Len kept himself bent over Barry’s body on all fours, beginning a slow grind of his hips, picking up speed with every moan that fell over Barry’s lips. His other hand came up to grasp Barry’s throat, pinning him back against his body, palm covering the pale skin easily.

Barry’s fingers curled in the sheets beneath them, knuckles turning white as the fabric twisted between them, his body desperately working to stay upright even with Len’s help, rigid and moaning louder with each thrust.

It was messy and heated, with no ease or fluidity, and yet, it was easily the best sex Len had ever had, every noise pushing him faster, making him want more .

Barry, for his part, seemed to agree on all parts, matching Len’s movements of faster, more, and want.

As his own orgasm built, Len took the hand from Barry’s throat, spitting in his palm before moving it beneath Barry, grasping his cock tight and stroking at an merciless pace.

Barry yelped and pushed back against Len’s body, hips jerking as sensation hit from both sides. His hand flew back and grasped at Len’s lower back, guiding him into uneven, desperate thrusts.

A shudder of voltage ran up the length of Barry’s body as he came, an aborted cry coming from deep in his chest as he tensed and sagged in Len’s arms, fingers digging into Len’s lower spine. Len followed after, the jolts travelling from Barry’s skin to his own in heated pleasure bringing him over the edge.

They collapsed to the bed in a heap of sweaty limbs and wasted muscles, completely unable to do more than pant and lay there.

“God,” Barry finally manages to gasp out and Len agrees.

“They definitely heard you,” Len informs him, rolling as carefully as he can so he doesn’t squish Barry more than he already has, positioning them close as is comfortable with the sticky sheen across their skin. They end up sprawled, partially free, partially together, and their fingers tangle easily together, as if of their own mind.

“Heard us,” Barry corrects, moving to his back, thumb running patterns over Len’s hand in his. “I don’t know if you could tell, but you were loud, Lenny.”

That was news actually, but easily moved past.

“They already knew something would happen,” he answered flippantly, chest still heaving in the efforts to fill his lungs properly. “After your guess.”

Barry let out a breathy laugh and then looked up to Len, his eyes heavy lidded. He drew a hand up so that his arm rested on Len’s chest and his fingers curled around the curve of Len’s cheek. “We don’t have the drinks, but I’m going to guess again.”

Len turned his head so they were less than an inch from each other, Barry’s shoulder on top of his own. “Shoot.”

“You want to do this again sometime,” Barry said, practically a whisper, his eyes bright.

“Got me,” Len said, and kissed him.