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1.

Len was kissing a line down Barry’s sternum, toward the sensitive skin that dipped down just below the ribs and above the abdomen, when he suddenly paused and laid his head down over Barry’s heartbeat.

Barry’d had one hand on Len’s shoulder, the other on the back of his neck, so he brought that one up and rubbed absently over the other man’s shaved head. Prickles in one direction, velvet in the other.

“Problem?” Barry asked.

“Hmmm, no. Just thinking.” Len lifted his head so he could look up at Barry contemplatively, chin propped on the younger man’s chest.

“Well, not that I’m complaining,” Barry rolled his body up into Len’s, relishing the rasp and drag of lace panties against cotton boxers, “but I feel like you were headed somewhere interesting just now.”

Len snorted, then grabbed Barry around his trim waist and hoisted him further up the bed. He dropped his head, dipped his tongue into Barry’s belly button, dragged his teeth in teasing bites over the taut skin just above the lacy blue waistband. He licked a long line up the middle of the speedster’s abs, then blew cool air all the way back down, clearly enjoying the little goosebumps it raised.

When he'd been staring at them for a bit too long Barry cupped his face in both hands, smiling at Len's startled look and directing the older man to meet his eyes.

“Hey. Distracted guy. Will you tell me what’s up?” Barry wasn't mad, just curious.

Len closed his eyes and leaned into the gesture. “Sorry, I just keep thinking about that story you told me earlier about the girl from the spank magazine.”

Barry’s huffed laugh was equal parts amusement and chagrin. “‘Spank magazine,’ gross. What about the story?”

“I’m just trying to work out whether the fantasy is that you’re the slut being used for some creep’s pleasure, or that you’re the pure, untouchable girl everybody wants to worship.”

Barry hummed thoughtfully and let his head fall back against the pillows while he considered. “I guess it’s a little bit of both,” then, like an afterthought, “but you’re not a creep.”

“I am,” Len’s head was hovering over Barry’s erection, his breath ghosting over Barry through the lace. Len splayed one hand over Barry’s hip, and with the knuckles of the other teased at the soft skin of the speedster’s inner thigh. “And you’re an angel.”

Barry’s breath hitched at both the sensation and the words, and he had to arch into where Len was now pressing his face to the crotch of his lingerie, mouthing over Barry’s shaft through the fabric.

“Hah,” Barry panted, “Len. Jesus, is that what this is abou-- oh!” He broke off as Len slid the panties down just a bit, enough to lick over the head of Barry’s cock with a wide, flat tongue. “Nn, don’t stop, god that’s-- the lace is so--”

“--Scratchy? Think of how my poor tongue feels,” Len teased.

Barry grinned, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure as he moved the older man’s head out of the way just enough to push the damn panties down around his thighs himself. “Please. You love it.”

Len wasted no time gripping the base of Barry’s erection and lowering his mouth over the head, slurping a bit, teasing the sensitive underside with the pointy tip of his tongue. As he worked, slowly sliding down further, taking more into his mouth, he gripped and tugged at Barry’s underwear with his other hand.

Barry hummed and shuddered, loving the contrast between the wet heat of Len’s mouth and the tug of the elastic, the scratch and irritation as the damp lace dragged on skin and caught on his leg hair.

By the time Len was kissing his own fist Barry was groaning and vibrating in a way that alternately pitched his voice higher and lower than it usually was. Len could probably feel Barry’s moans in his chest.

“God, Len! I’m close, so close, just--” Barry was always careful not to put his hands on Len’s head when they did this, knew that triggered feelings of panic the older man couldn’t entirely control, so instead he threw his arms up over his head as he came, fists clenching and his torso arching up off of the bed as he keened and spilled in Len’s mouth.

Barry fell back against the pillows, panting, and Len wiped his mouth off on the back of his forearm then crawled up to sprawl next to his boyfriend. The speedster felt flushed and gorgeous, despite the fact that he was bright red and his hair was probably sticking in every direction.

“Feeling properly worshipped?” Len asked, smiling and nosing at Barry’s neck.

“Definitely. Though you know...” when Barry trailed off Len pulled back, a question in his eyes. “What we do in here, or on your bike, or that one time in the back of that police cruiser, that’s one thing. That’s playing around. But when it comes to this relationship you know nobody’s up on any pedestals, right?”

Len rolled his eyes and tried to pull back, but Barry caught him around the neck and brought their foreheads together.

“I want to be here, Len,” Barry said. “With you. You're my first choice.”

“Barry--” the older man’s voice was raspy either with emotion or because of the dick sucking, but just in case it was the former Barry pressed their mouths together to cut the other man off. He didn't want Len to feel like he had to say anything he wasn’t ready to yet.

They kissed like that, twined together, for a few more lazy minutes -- perfectly content with closed mouths and shared breaths and bee-stung lips.

Finally Barry drew back, smirking devilishly when Len followed after him. He pushed his right hand into Len’s boxers and wrapped it around the man’s semi-hard cock.

“So, about that slut thing.”