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The Seven O'Clock to Hub City

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Meet me on the 7pm to Hub City, and don't wear the suit.

Barry recognized Snart's handwriting immediately, and started at the paper for a few minutes before telling Cisco that he thought he had a lead. The second worst thing about using Leonard Snart as a source was that his information was almost always too good to turn down.

The worst thing was what he wanted in exchange for it.

Barry wore the suit as far as central station, then changed in a stall too fast to see. When he got to the counter, the kid said he had a ticket reserved under Barry's name, but of course not paid for. Barry sighed and give the kid his card. The ticket stub read 5-24F.

Snart was sitting in the back row by the window, when Barry got to his seat, and the row ahead of them was empty. Barry didn't see Rory anywhere, but assumed that he had to be lurking around somewhere.

"Nice of you to join us," Snart drawled. He looked over Barry's t-shirt and slacks and raised an eyebrow as if to question his taste in civvies.

Barry stood in the aisle until he realized he was blocking traffic and then dropped into the seat next to Snart's. He assumed that Rory would be 24D on the aisle. He swallowed past the lump of anticipation in his throat and tried to sound grown up when he said, "What do you have for me, Snart?"

Snart wagged his finger. "Uh uh uh, that's not how this works." His voice was almost sing song, and Barry really wanted to punch him.

Gritting his teeth, Barry said, "How this works is that if you don't have anything worth while, I'm going to walk off this train."

"Isn't he precious when he tries to barter?" Snart asked Rory, who'd just come in from the can and dropped into the aisle seat with a thud. Rory grunted, which Snart seemed to take as agreement. "But I'll play along. You're looking for the Polka-Dot Man, aren't you?"

"We're not calling him that," Barry said loud enough for the old lady across the aisle to glance over. "We're not," he added sulkily. "Just because..."

"He means Abner Krill," Rory said. He pulled the magazine out of the rack in front of him and seemed to start reading an article on the Napa Valley.

Barry looked at him to see if he was joking, but Rory was as imperturbable as ever. The team had been trying for days to dig up a name, or anything else, and all they'd gotten was that the worst explosion was going to be at midnight that night. It was just after seven, and the train wouldn't get into Hub City for three hours. Barry knew by now that Snart would want most of that time before he paid his end of the bargain.

"You know the target?" Barry asked.

"Would I have asked you here if I didn't?"

"That's not an answer," Barry told him. He already knew how this game was going to go, but he wasn't yet ready to give in based on form. He wasn't just turning himself over to Snart on his say so, to do what he wanted with Barry.

Snart sighed. "Fine," he said. "Yes, I know the target."

The train pulled out of central, and Rory spread his legs, pushing Barry's knees into Snart's.

"And do you know what I want as payment?" Snart asked.

"Same as always," Barry muttered. "It's not like you're real creative."

Snart had his hands folded in his lap, on shoulder braced against the window as he looked sideways at Barry. "You know, I'm not sure I can remember what our deal usually is," he said. "I think you're going to have to remind me."

Rory spread his legs a little wider and let his hand fall into his lap. He didn't move it, just rested it there, reminding Barry of the last time, and the time before.

Barry swallowed. He thought of all the people that had been hurt in the first explosions, and how little chance he had of stopping it just by running between target-rich areas as midnight approached. It could be any of a dozen nightspots in Central City, and he had no guarantee that he'd find the devices if he looked. He glanced at Snart, who was resting his head on the glass watching either the warehouse district slide by or Barry's reflection.

"It's okay," Snart said. "I've got all night. You remember how much I love trains."

What Barry remembered was how little Snart cared if his little schemes got people killed.

"How is this worth it?" Barry asked. "You've got all this information, you could sell it for money, or organize a heist or... whatever you want. Why are you using it to... to do this? To me?"

"Simple things in life," Rory answered. He stroked himself with his thumb and flipped the page of his magazine by blowing on it.

"To do what to you?" Snart insisted.

"You want me to," Barry glanced at the lady across the aisle, who seemed engrossed in her phone, he lowered his voice anyway. "You'll tell me where the target is if I let you have sex with me." He could feel the heat in his face, and wished that all of it was from shame.

"Well that's a generous offer. What do you think, Mick?"

Rory's hand moved from his lap to Barry's thigh. "Think you should stop playing games and get on with it."

"All right, we accept." Snart put his hand on Barry's other thigh. "Since you asked so nicely."

Barry stared straight ahead, trying to ignore how it felt to have their hands on him again, and telling his dick not to remember what any of this felt like. It wasn't working. "What do you want me to do?"

"Oh, nothing," Snart said. "Yet. Just sit there, and don't make a sound." He popped the button on Barry's fly with his thumb and tugged down on the zipper.

"No," Barry hissed.

Snart arched an eyebrow. "No?"

"People will see," Barry insisted. Letting them put his hands all over him was bad enough, but in public!

"Mick?"

Rory bent and pulled a newspaper out from under his seat. He opened it with a snap of pages and pretended to read it. It was upside-down, but at least it blocked the view of their laps from across the aisle.

Snart's cool fingers pulled open Barry's fly and reached through his underwear for his cock. "Guess you're just happy to see me," he said.

Barry said nothing. The paper might hide where Snart's hands were, but it didn't cover Barry's face. He had to stay still and silent and not let his arousal show in his expression. He couldn't risk the old lady in the next row looking over and seeing him flushed and gasping. "Can't we do this in the can?" he asked in a low voice.

"I'm happy right here," Snart said.

"Maybe later," Rory agreed. Rory at least wasn't touching Barry yet, but he knew that was coming. Rory liked to see Snart's play before he made his own move.

Snart worked Barry's cock until it was hard and leaking and then let go, letting it just stick up out of Barry's pants, exposed for anyone who leaned over the paper to see. Barry was biting the inside of his cheek hard to keep his humiliation and arousal from showing, but it was hard not to gasp at Snart's touch, and harder still not to beg for more.

He glanced at Snart, trying to see what he wanted next, and met his level gaze. He hated these guessing games most of all, where Snart wanted to test how far Barry would go by not telling him the price he was asking. Barry wouldn't, not this time, and he pressed his lips together and frowned at Snart.

"Want to return the favor?" Snart asked, glancing at his lap. Barry could see the slight bulge of his cock pressing against the fly of his jeans.

Barry reached for it Snart's zipper, but had a difficult time getting it open. His hands were shaking. He'd never touched either of them before, not like that. Before, he'd stayed still and let them to what they like to him, but they hadn't asked him to participate past spreading his legs or sucking their dicks when they were shoved into his mouth.

"Look me in the eye," Snart said, voice so low that Barry was almost reading his lips, "take my dick in your hand, and get me off."

Before Barry could agree, because really, what else could he do, the train pulled into Central City's north station and slowed to a halt. The conductor started to come down the aisle, and Rory effortlessly flipped the paper to block his view of what was going on. Three women Barry's age, all chatting loudly, settled into the row in front of them. One of them smiled at Snart, but they turned to each other and fell back into their discussion of classes almost immediately. If they turned to smile again, they'd be able to see what Snart and Barry were doing between the gaps in the head rests.

Barry stopped breathing. He was going to get arrested by a rail marshal for public exposure. He was going to go to trial and have to explain to Joe why he'd had his cock out in the middle of a crowded train. There'd be a mark on his record. He was going to lose his job because he couldn't think of a better way out of a situation than to let himself be used as a pair of murderers' sexual plaything.

Despite his panic, his cock was still as hard as ever, and he had to bite back a whine when Snart ran his knuckles up the length of it and asked, "Weren't you on a deadline?"

"Right." Barry was. He would have to get this over with as fast as he could and then run back to Central City before midnight. His own humiliation didn't matter in the face of that.

He got Snart's fly open and palmed his dick through the front of his shorts. Snart's expression didn't so much as flicker, and Barry wondered how he could be so imperturbable. He wanted to break that, to get some kind of a reaction out of Snart like he had that first night on the train. He reached through the fly of Snart's shorts and curled his fingers around his dick. He was starting to get hard, but not all the way there yet. Barry hated that he knew what Snart's cock looked like and felt like as it grew from soft to erect, that he knew the taste of it and dreamed of it some nights. He hated that he sometimes daydreamed at work about Rory fucking him, and then realized he was getting hard and had to hide in the men's room until it stopped.

Barry squeezed the base of Snart's cock and watched his lips purse slightly and his eyes narrow just a hair, but otherwise got no reaction. When Barry started to stroke up Snart's cock, Snart got harder under his touch but instead of showing any sign of arousal, he yawned slightly and tipped his head so that it rested against the window. Frustrated, Barry put a bit of speed into his motions and vibrated up and down Snart's dick.

"Oh, now we're talking," Snart said, showing interest for the first time. "I knew a smart boy like you could figure out how to use his special skills."

Rory made an interested noise, and Barry wondered if he'd be asked to jerk them both off at once, but instead of opening his fly, Rory leaned over and asked, "Think you can do that while my dick's up your ass?"

"I..." Barry didn't know. He couldn't imagine having his speed under that fine a level of control while Rory was fucking him.

Snart cleared his throat, and Barry realized he'd stopped stroking him off. He got going again, alternating slower strokes with little bursts of vibrating speed. Snart's face barely changed, but Barry could see the flex in his jaw muscles that indicated he wasn't bored any more. His eyes had darkened, and Barry remembered what they'd looked like last time he'd looked Barry in the eye while Rory fucked Barry from behind.

Barry was in the middle of vibrating his hand up Snart's cock, watching as Snart parted his lips to breath a little harder, when Rory's gloved hand closed around Barry's own dick. Barry gasped, and the girls in front of him paused just for half a second, like they'd heard something off, but hadn't picked up on what. Barry looked sideways at Rory with panic clawing at his throat, but Rory was still studying his upside down paper. It's just that his free hand was slowly stroking Barry's dick.

The leather of Rory's glove was skin-warm, but didn't feel like skin. The rough seams pulled at Barry's pubic hairs when Rory reached down to fondle his balls. The glove dragged over Barry's dick when he pulled up, and the warn places on the thumb were too rough against the head of Barry's cock. He wanted to whimper at the sensation, but he knew he couldn't make a sound. He breathed hard through his nose and focused on touching Snart.

The sooner Snart got off, the sooner this would be over. Rory usually followed Snart's lead there, taking Barry when Snart had had his fun with him. He didn't seem to mind sloppy seconds. Barry supposed he was sloppy thirds or fourths now, depending how you counted. He'd been letting himself get used for weeks now.

Snart was making soft grunting noises and Barry thought he'd come soon; his cock was hot and twitching in Barry's hand, and he had his eyes half closed in pleasure. Barry bounced his thumb over the head and stroked extra slow up the shaft a couple times. He could tell that Snart was holding himself right at the edge and was determined to push him over. He wanted the satisfaction of making the son of a bitch react to something Barry did, and focusing on that took some of his mind off the handjob Rory was giving him.

"You're so good at this," Snart said in his ear. He'd leaned over suddenly, and put his hand on the small of Barry's back. "You should be careful who sees. Imagine if the other rogues found out how easy you are." His fingers walked down Barry's spine until they got to the edge of his pants. Rory tightened his hold until it had enough pinch to it that Barry inhaled sharply and bent forward to try to protect his aching cock.

Barry's hand stilled on Snart's dick, but Snart didn't seem to care. He took advantage of Barry being bent forward to slide his hand under his pants and grope his butt. His touch was cool and slide over Barry's skin until his fingers found the crack of his ass.

"Don't," Barry whimpered, "Not here."

He could feel his blood pounding in his head and the world seemed to fade out, but not the awareness of where he was, sitting in the back row of a train with passengers on every side. Rory was stoking him gently again, his glove rubbing and scraping over Barry's skin, and Barry couldn't respond and bring Snart off because Snart's fingers were circling his hole. He didn't have any lube, and there was no way it wasn't going to hurt like hell if Snart decided to finger fuck Barry dry. He should have made himself ready before he got here, just in case they decided to play it rough. He couldn't afford to get hurt like that.

The tip of Snart's finger pushed inside him as far as the first knuckle and Barry clenched his ass and tried to press it out. He moaned at the the cascade of sensations the scrape of dry skin against the ring of his ass made. He hated that it felt so good, that he wanted more, that he knew that he'd try touching himself like this.

Trying to get it over with, Barry jostled his hand over Snart's cock. That only made Snart push his finger in further. Without lube, a single finger felt like getting fucked by Rory's whole cock, and with Rory still roughly jerking him off, Barry couldn't handle it any more. He jammed his free hand against his mouth so that he wouldn't make a sound, rested his head against the seat back, and shot into Rory's hand.

Rory made a satisfied grunt and held onto Barry's cock as he tried to get his body back under his control. Every time Barry thought he was finished, Rory squeezed and pulled lightly, drawing another jolt of pleasure out of Barry. Snart was still shallowly fucking him with a single finger.

"Please," Barry whimpered, and he didn't know if he was begging them to stop or fuck him harder. He could feel tears leaking out of his closed eyes. He hoped that Rory leaning in the way he was would hide his body from anyone across the aisle, but dreaded that any second the girls in front of him might turn around to see what the noises were. Surely he'd made too much noise by now, and Snart was starting to pant too as Barry convulsively tugged at and squeezed his cock. Barry thought that his own humiliation had a lot more to do with Snart getting off than anything Barry's touch was doing.

"Such a good boy, Flash," Snart whispered into his ear and came all over Barry's hand.

He pulled his finger out of Barry's ass and wiped it on Barry's underwear on the way by. Barry felt empty and for a moment wished that it had lasted longer or he'd been fucked harder. They usually left him feeling stretched and taken, when they didn't leave something inside him. Barry flexed his ass against the space that wasn't there and started down at his parted knees.

Rory reached across and scooped up Snart's come with fingers. Fingers that were already covered in Barry's come. It mingled with Snart's, and Rory held it up to Barry's lips. Barry kept his forehead to the back of the seat. He knew there was no point refusing this last indignity. Rory would just rub it on his face if he didn't. Barry opened his mouth and licked their come off Rory's glove. Snart tasted as he usually did, but the taste of worn leather was new, and Barry knew he'd always associate it with this train ride, with being fucked almost in public. He closed his eyes again and sucked each finger into is mouth, swirling his tongue around Rory's glove, cleaning all the come off the seams.

When he was done, Barry fumbled to close his fly, then took a deep breath and sat upright. He looked sideways with Snart, who was watching him with his usual blandly interested expression. His pants were also already zipped

Barry realized what had not yet happened at the same time as Rory slapped his knee. "You gotta go to the can, kid." It was not a question.

"We won't all fit in there," Barry said. He looked at Snart, not sure if he were pleading not have to be fucked in the public toilet of a train car, or pleading not to be left alone with Rory, who got violent without a leash on him, or just pleading for this to be over soon.

"Oh, I'm not going," Snart said, denying everything. His hand brushed Barry's face in what felt far too much like tenderness, at least until Snart pushed a Bluetooth into Barry's ear. "But I'll be with you in spirit," he added. "You'll just have to make sure to tell me what's happening.

Not quite alone then, Rory would take him into the stall and fuck him while Snart talked quietly in Barry's ear. Or would Snart just listen to Barry's half-suppressed cries and pleas, as the worst part of Barry's brain told his body that all he wanted was more?

"Please," Barry mouthed at Snart, but Snart was looking out the window again.

"Come on," Rory growled and jerked at Barry's shoulder. Barry double checked that he was zipped up and followed, both dreading what was to come and shamefully anticipating it.

As he walked past the old lady in the seat across the aisle, she smacked his ass and hissed, "Dirty boy," in a disgusted tone.

Rory pulled the door to the stall open and pushed him inside.

"Guess you weren't quiet enough," Snart's voice said in Barry's ear. "Let's see if you can do better now."