Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/11704914.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Choose_Not_To_Use_Archive_Warnings, Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence,
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      The_Flash_(TV_2014)
  Relationship:
      Barry_Allen/Savitar, Barry_Allen/Leonard_Snart
  Character:
      Barry_Allen, Savitar_(The_Flash_TV_2014), Leonard_Snart
  Additional Tags:
      Age_Difference, Age_Swap, Alternate_Universe_-_Evil, Evil!Barry, Self-
      cest, Public_Sex, Shower_Sex, Mpreg, Fluff_and_Humor, Angst, Anal_Sex,
      Mention_of_experimental_drugs, Family, 5_+_1, slightly_unhealthy
      relationship, Drunk-marriage, I_Don't_Even_Know, Why_Did_I_Write_This?,
      Should_I_Regret_This?, Multiple_Universes, doppelgangers, Implied/
      Referenced_Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced_Child_Abuse, Blood_and
      Violence, I_Probably_Should_Regret_This
  Series:
      Part 3 of Twistedly_Messed_Up
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-08-04 Chapters: 8/8 Words: 19712
****** Snippets of Life ******
by Demetria_0620
Summary
     Barry's life with Savitar throughout the fifteen years they were
     together.
     or
     Five snippets of Barry's life with Savitar and one with Len
     (Sort of the prequel to the previous two installments of my Twistedly
     Messed Up series.)
Notes
     This was supposedly be 5+1 kind of fanfic...
     Then it spiraled out of control and write itself. I don't even know
     how this happens.
     You'd probably wanted to at least read the first installment to know
     what the heck is going on in here and not get too confused.
     P/s: Barry's scars totally works like Harry Potter's scars though.
     They detected danger.
***** Scars and Itches *****
It itched.
Barry sat at the edge of the bed, his shirt on his lap as he tried to reach for
any scar on his back.
It really itched.
Though, he knew that it was nothing related to his physiology. It wasn’t
anything physical. They were all old scars, already healed on their own long
before he regained his power.
But it still itched.
He tried to reach for the scar on his spine, wincing when the tip of his
fingers touched the ridges of embossed healed skin. It was long and jagged, and
it must have been so ugly to the eye because even Barry felt disgusted as he
ran the tip of his fingers over the scar.
Why did they itch so much?
He needed a relief. Wanted to scratch the scars until they bled all over
again—until they no longer itched.
But he couldn’t.
***** 34 Years Old *****
Chapter Summary
     On Barry's 34th birthday, Savitar gave him a wonderful public sex.
“You really do enjoy showing off….”
Barry chuckled, his lips dragged over the warm skin and pressed to the erratic
jugular before he parted his lips, suckling lightly on the soft skin. Hands
clawed on his sweater as the firm ass ground onto his lap, slim hips rolling
slowly and created all too delicious friction over their layers of clothes.
Barry knew there a high percentage that they had an audience despite the little
privacy their curtained booth provided and Frost would probably nag him about
this but he practically owned this lair. He could mess with his pretty partner
everywhere that he wished to, even if it’s right in the middle of everyone’s
line of sight.
Plus, it was his birthday. And soon it would be their first anniversary ruling
the cities. He was thirty-four years old man with insatiable speedster’s
libido. He should be given the privilege to do whatever he wanted tonight, even
if it meant fucking his partner right here.
He had zero fucks to give to morals and public decency.
“Barry, you better kiss me right now or I swear I’m going to castrate you and
put your dick in a blender with the highest setting…”
Barry snorted at the annoyed hiss, but gave in regardless as he tilted his face
up to catch Savitar’s lips in a slow kiss. He could feel the gaze of his rogues
on him through the translucent curtains that hid them from direct view, felt
the burning want they directed to the man on his lap and he couldn’t resist
curling his lips to a smug smirk as he pushed his hands up Savitar’s shirt,
pushing just slightly to show the smooth skin with the tantalizing swirl of
burn scar, before sliding lower to squeeze the firm ass.
Savitar gasped and buried his face to Barry’s shoulder, hands clawing on the
wool of Barry’s sweater while his hips ground lower to rub against Barry’s own
growing erection.
“Barry, stop teasing!”
“Now, now…Do you want me to strip you naked and fuck you right here?”
Savitar glared at him.
Although, instead of looking intimidating as he intended, Savitar looked like
an angry spoiled kitten instead, no thanks to the pink flush colouring the
younger speedster’s cheeks, the way his hair fluffed out like some fluffy fur,
the way those sweet soft lips jutted out in a pout and the way those mismatched
eyes seemed to glaze over in needs. Savitar curled his lips, cheeks flushed a
brighter pink as the mismatched eyes casted a quick look around before the
younger speedster pushed Barry to rest more comfortably against the plush seat
of their booth. The younger speedster slid his jacket off, letting it pool
round his waist before he hurried to fumble with Barry’s belt.
Barry grinned.
Oh, this was far better than what he expected.
He shifted a bit, creating the illusion that they were simply making out and
getting a bit handsy with one another when he felt Savitar’s trembling hands
brought his own to press up against the tight hole. Nice. They weren’t planning
for this so they didn’t have any lube to slick things up. Barry pulled Savitar
closer, the thrill of public sex made him slightly light-headed as he slicked
his fingers up with their combined pre-cum. Savitar wrapped his arms round
Barry’s neck, burying his face to the crook of Barry’s clavicle, his teeth
biting down on the wool of Barry’s sweater to muffle his voice when Barry slid
a finger inside him.
It was going to hurt, being almost dry and thoroughly unprepared, but Barry
knew that his partner could take it.
Hence, he lazily prepped the tight hole, stretching and scissoring at a leisure
pace until Savitar started biting on his shoulder. He snaked his arms around
the slim waist, resting his back leisurely against the soft cushion of the seat
and stared at his partner, a silent challenge. Savitar swore, the filthy mouth
muttered strings of obscene words before he shifted closer and used one hand to
guide Barry inside him while his other hand clutched on Barry’s bicep, his
whine of pain was muffled against Barry’s chest. Barry gave Savitar a few
minutes to adjust before he started moving, sliding in and out of the tight
resisting heat, fucking his partner at such casual leisure pace so that they
didn’t attract too much attention.
Nahhh. He had zero fucks about getting attention.
He just wanted to torment Savitar.
“God, Barry…,” Savitar whimpered, leaving a damp spot on Barry’s shoulder due
to the way he was biting on the fabric, his arms tightened round Barry’s neck
as he choked and gasped. He started to bite down on his own wrist when Barry
started vibrating, struggling so hard to muffle his voice. “Barry, you’re a
jerk…”
Barry smirked and increased his vibration, hips bucked up in slow yet precise
motion to assault Savitar’s prostate. He wanted to make Savitar gave up, to
invoke loud sweet noises of pleasure to slip from the younger man, to have the
younger speedster announce that Barry owned him to the rest of the rogues. His
spine tingled with pleasure as he watched the dripping blood from Savitar’s
wrist—the younger speedster was biting so hard on his wrist to muffle his
screams.
Barry liked that.
His partner looked so cute, desperate and humiliated like this.
Barry ran his fingers up the shaking thigh, collecting the trickling blood—he
knew there would be blood, he hasn’t prepped his partner properly after
all—before pressing in his slick fingers inside, thrusting his slender fingers
into the abused hole with pace matching his own thrusts.
Savitar was so close to screaming when the translucent curtain of their booth
been parted open and Killer Frost walked in, Deathstorm was right on her heels.
Savitar whimpered, wrist already been abused badly while Barry gave a
mischievous grin at their friends.
“Barry, I really hate you right now,” Frost grumbled, but didn’t make any move
to walk out.
“This is getting too often…,” Deathstorm sighed in exasperation, taking his
seat casually like it was a totally normal thing to do. He raised an eyebrow at
the way Savitar trembled and trashed on Barry’s lap. “How long till you’re
finished?”
Barry tilted his head to the side. “I could drag this for a couple more hours…”
Savitar choked and shook his head, beseeching pleading eyes looked up at Barry
with tears brimmed in the corners of those mismatched orbs. “P-please, no…”
Barry grinned and pecked his partner’s lips sweetly. “I love your desperate
pleading voice…,” he hummed.
Then, all of sudden his hips started blurring, causing Savitar to yelp
loudly—if anyone had suspicion of what they had been up to, now the suspicion
has been confirmed—before the younger speedster started to mewl and wail in
pure pleasure, public indecency be damned. Barry’s hand did a quick blurring
motion that neither Frost nor Deathstorm could see and it wasn’t long before
Savitar let out a strangled cry and collapsed onto Barry, thoroughly used and
sated. Barry showered him with kisses and waited until he had climbed down from
his high before he tilted Savitar’s chin up.
“Open up, baby,” Barry murmured with enticing voice, and when Savitar shakily
opened his mouth, Barry brought a used condom up to view and dumped the whole
content into the open mouth. He gently pushed the open mouth close, all the
while purring in sadistic pleasure. “Swallow it, sweetheart. It’s yours.”
Savitar did as he was told to, body completely sagged in Barry’s embrace as the
older speedster threw the now empty condom into the trash bin. Barry showered
his sleepy partner with gentle kisses and soothing massage, not even attempting
to move to pull out of the abused ass. Wiping his hand clean on Savitar’s dark
shirt, Barry slouched against the cushion, sated and content as he stared at
his friends with expecting look.
“Your report?” He asked.
“Keystone and Coast City are clear,” Deathstorm said. “No sightings of any
vigilante or anyone playing heroes. I suggest that we keep surveillance for a
couple more months before we could be sure that the cities are hero-free.”
Barry nodded thoughtfully and tilted his head towards Killer Frost. “How about
you?”
“Metropolis is clear. We retrieve a bunch of researches from the Superman’s HQ
before burning them all to the ground. No sightings of heroes too,” she hummed,
although a frown suddenly graced her face. “Can’t say the same with Star City,
though. Green Arrow’s son is on the move, trying to continue Oliver’s legacy
and try to take you down. He doesn’t have much supporter for now, but we can’t
take this threat lightly.”
Barry felt sharp itches on his back.
His scars itched.
Just slightly, but it’s irritating.
He narrowed his eyes at the cold woman. “How old is he?”
Frost raised an eyebrow. “The kid? Twenty, I think.”
“You sure?”
“He is not a child, Barry,” Deathstorm said firmly.
With that confirmation, Barry relaxed and smiled. He planted a kiss over
Savitar’s cheeks before tilting his head to stare into his friends’ eyes. “Can
you have his head by Monday? I rather not have rats scampering around,
spreading filth in my cities.”
Frost smiled. “That’s a tall order,” she giggled. “You want us to hunt down a
young man who has been trained by the Green Arrow and have him killed in two
days?”
Barry raised an eyebrow. “Is that too hard?”
Killer Frost and Deathstorm laughed. “No. Not at all,” they said in unison.
“I’ll gift-wrapped his head for you, Barry,” Frost smirked.
“Clean up his filth too. Do not leave any trace of heroics,” the orders were
absolute and clear.
Savitar purred and leant up to kiss Barry’s throat. “You’re sexy when you’re
bossy…,” he said, pawing on Barry’s chest.
Barry rewarded him with a searing kiss.
“Damn it, kids,” Killer Frost groaned, causing both speedsters to broke apart,
their identical teasing grin been directed at her.
“On it, boss,” Deathstorm laughed and gave a mock salute at Barry’s direction.
“And oh!” He halted and fumbled with something in his jacket, before tossing a
small rectangular box towards Barry, “Joker sent a gift.”
Barry ran a finger over the nicely-wrapped box, green eyes stared at Deathstorm
with calculative cautious manner as he tried to hide his wince and subtly
rubbed his back to the plush cushion.
It itched.
His back itched badly.
It started to drive him crazy.
He wanted to scratch the scars until they bled.
Savitar seemed to notice his discomfort and shifted on his lap, mismatched eyes
no longer glazed with afterglow of sex—they were now sharp and alert, ready to
act. There was a whirlwind of movement only Barry could catch as the younger
speedster slipped off his lap to fix their disheveled condition. Barry tensed
when Savitar’s hand slithered just briefly under his shirt to rub over his back
before relaxing when the time remnant re-buckled his belt, lips quirked to a
lazy fond smile as the younger man returned to his lap.
“How nice of Joker to send you a gift,” Savitar purred, tracing one finger over
the ribbons. He planted a kiss to Barry’s neck. “You know, I like the new girl
from Star City. Can we give her the privilege to open the gift for you,
please?” He batted his lashes to Barry, and it would have been so adorable and
cute, but his manic grin made it look disturbing.
Barry leant close to peck his lips. “Anything for you, babe,” he murmured,
motioning Deathstorm to get said girl.
Deathstorm raised an amused brow but said nothing as he disappeared behind the
curtains, only to return a few minutes later with a young woman that looked
like she was in her early twenties. Her hair was dirty blonde, her body was
wrapped in tight skimpy dress while her steel blue eyes stared at them in
bewilderment. There was a flash of fear in her steely eyes.
“Hello, Laura,” Barry greeted and offered the giftbox to her. “If you could be
so kind, can you please open this for me?” he smiled sweetly and tilted his
head towards Savitar. “I have my hands full.”
Savitar snuggled closer in Barry’s embrace.
She shakily took the box from his hand, bewildered fearful eyes gaze wildly
over all occupants of the booth before she pulled the ribbon free. Her pained
scream then broke through the bustling music of the lair as the bright ribbon
fell to the ground along with the lid of the box. Little choked noise tore out
of her throat, her skin rolled down her face in big gallops to reveal her skull
like some morbid melted candle. A snort of amused laughter escaped the four of
them when the box slipped from the girl’s hands, her body fell to the ground
with a loud ominous thud. Barry smirked, honestly amused at the miniature
replica of Joker’s head that was spouting acid onto his floor. The head bounced
on its spring, before it disintegrated on its own, only to reveal a compartment
in the box.
Killer Frost reached for the mask in the compartment and handed it to Barry.
“Nightwing’s mask,” she grinned, the heels of her boot crushed the melted flesh
on the floor.
Barry ran a finger over the ridges of the black mask. “So, Gotham is finally
clean from its bats infestation too, eh?” He smiled happily, handing back the
mask to Killer Frost, his shoulders relaxed as the itch on his back slowly
faded. “Send my gratitude to Joker, and do remind him to find a less messy
joke. I do not appreciate melted flesh on my floor,” he instructed with a roll
of his eyes.
“As if he would listen,” Deathstorm snorted.
Barry sighed. “Well, we could always try.”
“I’ll put this with the rest,” Frost hummed, waving the mask in the air. She
then narrowed her eyes at both Barry and Savitar. “And you two, go get a room.”
“Yes, mom,” Barry and Savitar said in unison, causing Deathstorm to snort while
Frost rolled her eyes in annoyance.
Once the married couple has stepped out, Savitar bent down to grab the
spherical orb that was rolling on the floor. His cheek was pressed to Barry’s
chest as he brought the eye up, admiring the steely blue iris. He twirled the
ball in his fingers.
“Such pretty thing, die so young….,” Savitar sighed, showing the eye to Barry
with a sulky pout. “I actually do want to fuck her…”
Barry’s gaze flickered briefly to the knives that were hidden in the skimpy
dress of the now dead girl and the one that was stabbed at the cushion near his
left. Even at the brink of death, Laura had tried to aim a knife at his heart.
What a strong courageous girl. Barry exhaled a heavy breath that resembled a
regretful sigh and dropped a kiss over Savitar’s forehead, his lips curled to a
smirk against his partner’s soft skin.
“Right? She has Oliver’s eyes too. What a waste.”
***** 37 Years Old *****
Chapter Summary
     On Barry's 37th birthday, he got drunk and got hitched in Vegas.
“Barry,” Savitar started, breath hitched in his throat when Barry pressed a
palm over his mouth. He struggled to free his mouth, mumbling under his breath
once he managed to do so. “This is suicide,” he scowled at Barry’s grin.
“Barry, you’re insane.”
“Shhhh…..,” Barry hushed, placing a finger over his lips.
“Insane,” Savitar grumbled but kept his voice down regardless. “This is
motherfuckin insane, Barry,” he glared at his older counterpart. “She’ll kill
us.”
“What she doesn’t know wouldn’t hurt her~” Barry hummed, fingers moving in
superspeed to unlock the security system. He let out a silent cheer when the
safe-slash-freezer unlocked and slid open.
Savitar eyed the content of the safe curiously.
“How do you know it is safe?” He asked, watching the older speedster retrieved
a huge flask from the stash at the back of the safe. Shivering a bit at the
cold of the freezer, he stepped back slightly. “Frost is still experimenting.
How do you know that this is safe?”
“She gave it to me for a test run last week…”
“You mean when you went batshit drunk and slaughtered, like, the whole
Rodriguez family in less than 5 minutes?”
“Meh, I never like that family. I’m not exactly fond of their business…”
“Says the man who phased people’s bone out on daily basis…”
“In my defense, it is less bloody.”
“Uh-huh…”
“Plus, they broke our rules.”
Savitar went silent for a moment. Barry took the chance to hoard another flask
of speedster-proofed alcohol before closing the safe behind him. He turned
around with a giddy smile, only to have the smiled dropped to a confused frown.
Savitar stared at him, arms crossed over his chest, mismatched eyes scrutinized
Barry with gaze so intense it could’ve burnt a hole in a wall.
“Babe?”
“You’re still not over it right?” the younger speedster sighed. “Your alleged
crime…”
Barry stiffened, his face fell to a complete poker face.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, walking away around the
time remnant with brisk normal human pace.
Savitar flashed in front of him. “Oh, no. You do know what I’m talking about.”
Barry scowled. “Does it matter?” he grumbled, trying to push Savitar away, but
the younger speedster was particularly stubborn tonight. “I’m murderer now. I
kill people just for the fun of it. My alleged crime back then is now very
fucking real. Heck, it’s now my favourite past time.”
“Oh, but you’re no child abuser,” Savitar countered, lips curled to smug grin.
“That family traded children as sex slaves. The city hated them. The police
wanted to destroy them for good,” his grin fell to a grimace, eyes crinkled in
concentration as if he was trying to see through Barry. “And there you went,
drunk as fuck, as you slaughter the whole family before dropping the children
at an orphanage…,” he stated flatly. “You should’ve seen the news report. With
your history, the whole city honest-to-god expected to hear the trauma of the
children but noooo….Lho and behold, surprise, surprise—,” he chuckled dryly,
the sound almost mocking as he added, “…the Flash didn’t touch the children at
all. Not one of the children were harmed. None of them were traumatized. Heck,
they all straight-up glassy-eyed idolizing you for saving them.”
“It’s our rule,” Barry gritted out. “Children are off limits.”
“Yeah, right…,” Savitar rolled his eyes. “Do you have any idea that the city
now viewed you like the Green Arrow…? Saving people through force and blood?”
he snorted. “They said that you’re back to a hero’s lifestyle,” he leant
closer, circling his arms round Barry’s neck. “That doesn’t sit too well with
me. We’re not heroes…,” he trailed, mismatched eyes were sharp as his gaze
pierced into Barry’s own. “....aren’t we?”
Barry stared into those mismatched eyes, face emotionless though lightning
blazed in his eyes. He balanced the flasks in one hand, moving his right hand
to fist in the soft brown hair and brought the scarred face closer to him into
a kiss. The younger speedster stiffened in shock at first, before he started
pawing on Barry’s chest, lips parted open, whimpers spilling from his lips when
Barry deepened the kiss. Barry curled his tongue, tangling the slick muscle
with Savitar’s willing one, invoking the noise so sweet and lovely from the
younger. He traced the warm cavern, ran his tongue over the younger’s teeth,
lips dragged over in slow dance as he drank each of little noises Savitar
slipped out with pure greed and lust. He ended the kiss with a gentle peck over
the gaping lips, fingers tracing the flushed skin of the scarred cheek and he
gave the younger man a fond smile when the hooded mismatched eyes sought his
gaze.
“No, baby,” he murmured, tracing his thumb over the soft lips, hooking his
thumb over the perfect line of teeth when Savitar leant forward. “We’re not
heroes. Not anymore,” he sighed, spine tingling upon the way the talented
tongue suckled on his thumb. “I haven’t been a hero ever since they threw me
into that godforsaken hell.”
Savitar gazed into his eyes, mismatched eyes beseeching when he retreated with
a long lewd lick along Barry’s fingers. He planted a kiss over each tip of
Barry’s outstretched fingers, satisfied smile broke through his ever youthful
face, one hand sneakily stole one of the flask in Barry’s hand. He took one
tentative sip, feeling the strong buzz clouded his mind in an instant. Then, he
started giggling—Barry was barely able to retrieve the flask back when Savitar
decided to pounce onto him.
“That must be one strong alcohol….,” Barry said, amused at the giggling mess
that was pawing on his chest. He raised said flask up to the moonlight, a frown
graced his face. “We might need to dilute this with normal alcohol…”
“Date,” Savitar slurred, hands fisting on Barry’s sweater. “Let’s go. Date.
Vegas,” he giggled, slightly swaying that Barry had to wonder if he had made
the wrong decision to not get the proper confirmation from Frost whether these
experimental alcohols were safe or not.
If Savitar remained drunk for the rest of the night, his plan was basically
thrown out of the window.
Though, bless their rapid metabolism, the drunken giggle turned to slightly
tipsy smile when Savitar dragged him by the collar to raid the fridge in their
communal kitchen—the maid-in-charge of the night dropped a plate upon seeing
their sudden entrance. She stammered out an apology, kow-towing meekly when
Savitar weaved around her. Barry waved her away, dismissive and uncaring as his
gaze focused on the way Savitar was scowling at the content of the fridge.
“S’ not here,” the younger speedster scowled, slamming the door shut and head
to the next fridge, completely ignoring the terrified maid by the counter. He
rummaged through the second fridge—Barry was sorely tempted to snap the younger
man out of it but chose to restrain himself because this was far too
amusing—and it took a complete 15 seconds for the psychopathic speedster to
find what he was looking for and let out a drunken cheer. “Found it!” he
grinned, and Barry raised an eyebrow in confusion as Savitar produced a small
plate of cake from the fridge.
“Cake?” Barry had to restrain his urge to laugh. His younger counterpart was
too weird sometime.
“Mm-hmm…,” Savitar nodded, his smile giddy. “Baked it myself.”
That had Barry’s brows to shoot up to his hairline.
“Happy old day, old man~” Savitar’s eyes were much clearer when he flashed to
stand in front of Barry, the cake was balanced between their chest.
The next thing Barry knew was a cute little strawberry was shoved between his
lips, the taste of whipped cream coated his tongue when Savitar pressed in and
crushed the berry between their lips—slick sweet juice dribbled from the
corners of their lips as the younger speedster dragged their lips slowly in one
sloppy languid kiss. Barry parted his lips, allowing Savitar’s sweet tongue
tangled with his whipped cream-coated one, his free hand immediately found its
way round Savitar’s waist as the other speedster’s free hand clutched
desperately on his arm. They parted, and Barry took the liberty of Savitar’s
tipsy state to sneak a wink to the stunned maid, placing one finger over his
lips in silent order for her to keep this a secret from his other friends
before flashing out—the cake dish protectively covered, while the flasks were
stashed alongside with a bunch of champagne and beer he stole from Deathstorm’s
fridge in a bagpack.
Savitar wanted a date in Vegas, so Vegas will it be tonight.
It was fun.
Well, as far as he could remember anyway.
Barry woke up with sharp itches on his back. His scars tingled and itches, like
annoying rash that tempted him to scratch them until they bled and he would
feel nothing else. But, he has lived with these kind itches for years—it was
the worse when he was in prison—and he knew what they meant. Thus, he resolved
to let the tension ebbed from his shoulders, willing his body to lay lax over
the warmth curled beneath him. Savitar was still fast asleep—the kid was a
heavy sleeper, unlike Barry—and Barry shifted, eyes remained close when he
nuzzled his face to the nape of Savitar’s neck, feigning sleep as his hearing
picked up the soft footsteps treading across the room towards them and the
hushed hisses of the intruders.
“Fucking arrogant speedsters…”
“Hey, shut it. We would be dead if they wake up.”
The scars on his back blazed in itchy pain.
Barry has to bite his lips to stop himself from groaning out loud.
“Pah! They were dead drunk. Did you see how much they drink last night?”
Resisting the urge to reach behind and scratch his scar, Barry tried to find an
answer to that question, distracting himself from falling into his urges by
forcing his mind to sort out the blurry memories last night. Most of them
weren’t as clear as crystal, something that really irked him, but Barry knew
that both he and Savitar had drunken a lot, if he was recalling these memories
right.
“Just do it,” the nervous meek voice ordered, and Barry was instantly snapped
back to reality.
“Fine, fine,” the gruff voice hissed, and Barry felt a presence near his side
of the bed. “Not so strong, right now, eh, Flash?”
Barry decided he no longer wanted to play possum when the voice sneered
mockingly at him. He rolled around and thrust one vibrating hand into the warm
torso, feeling the soft pulsing intestine against his skin.
He winced when he felt warm weight collapsed onto his hand—he must’ve had
unintentionally punctured or destroy an organ or something.
Oh fuck…His power wasn’t at the most optimum. He couldn’t control his
vibration, his mind was still slightly fuzzy.
“I beg to differ,” though, he sneered back, holding up a strong ruthless front.
He held back the disgusted grimace that threatened to form on his face, because
ew, he could never get over how Savitar and Frost seemed to love to poke around
with people’s insides.
This slimy thing was disgusting. Ew.
His gaze flickered to the other intruder, who was gaping in horror when Barry
slowly moved his vibrating hand up, caressing his way up the warm length of the
dying man’s intestine, being mindful of the pulsing stomach because god knows
what a bitch would that be if the digestive acid leaked onto his skin as he
made his way up, cracking open each rib until he reached the faintly beating
heart. He stared into the bulging eyes of his intruder and gave one flirtatious
wink.
“Your heart will have a new home now,” he purred and ripped the heart out,
making a mental note to find a nice jar to stuff this specimen in as one of his
bribe to Frost.
He knew that she was going to ice his ass the moment he returned.
Moreover, now that he just killed some random guys who probably belonged to a
mob family that have some beef with the Flash, after he somehow won a gamble of
ownership to one of the casino here while being drunk as fuck.
Frost probably wouldn’t be any happier the moment she noticed the glinting
rings on Barry’s and Savitar’s left ring fingers.
Barry cackled. Drunk Barry Allen made the best choices in the world.
There was a bang and flickers of lightning, and Barry briefly made out
Savitar’s blurred silhouette as the younger speedster leapt to catch the bullet
aimed to his head, before proceeding to kill the second intruder—there was an
ominous clang as the pistol bounced onto the ground, followed by the thud of
dead body falling as Savitar pulled his hand out of his kill. Barry tilted his
head, taking in Savitar’s very much disheveled and slightly confused face and
resumed his amused gaze downwards, with more appreciative and heated look.
The itches on his back was gone.
“Barry,” Savitar growled, scowling when he noticed Barry’s very obvious
arousal. “The heck is this?”
“People trying to kill us,” Barry hummed, placing the warm heart over the
dresser—he’d clean and get it into proper jar later. Maybe he should find cute
ribbons to go along with the jar too—Frost like cute things.
“I’m aware,” Savitar rolled his eyes, his clean hand messed with his already
fluffed and disheveled hair. He grimaced at the bloody mess in front of Barry
and gave the older speedster a bemused look. “And you dare to complain that I’m
messy…”
Barry beamed at him.
Savitar huffed, rolling his eyes like the drama queen he was, moving his non-
bloody hand to stifle a yawn before he paused, his gaze fixed on the ring on
said hand. Incredulity and confusion streaked across his face as he blinked
once.
Twice.
Thrice…
“Barry…,” he started, mismatched eyes flickered to the identical ring on
Barry’s own finger, to the discarded clothing that were strewn haphazardly all
over the floor before the confused gaze finally stopped on the white (with bits
of blood splatters) veil draped over the mini-fridge, the unmistakable sheet of
marriage certificate laid innocently beneath the fabric.
“What the actual fuck—”
Barry flashed Savitar into the bathroom before the younger speedster could even
finish speaking, pinning the lithe body up against the cold wall as the warm
spray of the hotel’s shower splattered over their bodies. Savitar blinked, a
bit disoriented, probably still half-awake or assumed that he was dreaming as
the water washed the blood off their hands. Barry planted a gentle kiss over
the younger’s lips, moving his lips chastely until the confused frown grew to a
smile as Savitar kissed back, slender hands found their way to loop around
Barry’s neck, while long legs felt warm and oh so right to wrap around Barry’s
bare waist.
They parted, the water grew slightly hotter against their skin (or perhaps it
was their skin that heated up?) and there was an adorable flush colouring
Savitar’s scarred cheek, the mismatched eyes glazed as they stared fondly into
Barry’s.
“I wasn’t dreaming,” Savitar murmured, laughter erupted from his throat when
Barry shook his head. “You really did propose to me.”
Barry pretended to not notice the tears when he peppered every inch of
Savitar’s face with gentle kisses.
“The plan was to date, propose, plan our marriage, get drunk and fuck till we
pass out,” Barry hummed against the wet skin, suckling lightly until a purple
bruise bloomed on the pale skin. “You ruin everything when you downed the whole
flask.”
“It doesn’t have to be in that particular order,” a soft chuckle, followed by
affectionate nips along the outline of Barry’s jaw.
“And here I am spending weeks traumatizing Ronnie while trying to figure out
the appropriate ways to be romantic to a psychopath,” Barry muttered, finger
caressing his way down the tantalizing scar on the pale torso.
There was a beat of silence filled with sloppy wet kisses all over the span of
sensitive burn scar when Savitar gently pushed Barry away, bracing himself
against the wall as he pressed his palms over Barry’s heart. His voice was
soft, scared and nervous as he asked;
“You won’t regret this?”
Barry brought Savitar’s left hand up, planting a kiss over the glittering
ring—it was simple gold band, with little lightning bolt engraved on it, three
little blue sapphires studded along the engravement. Barry’s ring was perfectly
identical, only with rubies instead of sapphires.
“Never,” he sighed then, intertwining their fingers together and brought their
joined hands to rest against the wall. “Will you?”
Savitar tightened his grip on Barry’s hand and shook his head. “Never.”
With that, Barry swooped in for a kiss, lips soft and careful, filled with
genuine fondness as his hips rolled slowly, rocking oh so gently with no
urgency. He wanted to savour this, wanting to go slow and gentle for once. All
these times it was pure lust, the needs to satisfy their crazy libido combined
with immense hatred to their respective old flames—Barry’s traitorous Iris,
Savitar’s hateful Barry—but now those old flames needed to die down.
There was no more turning back for both of them.
They had strayed too far from their previous life to even had the chance to
reclaim it.
“Barry…”
That sigh was one of the most musical sounds Barry had ever heard.
***** 40 Years Old *****
Chapter Summary
     On Barry's 40th birthday, he learnt to trust and open up his shell.
“Quid pro quid?”
Barry stifled a yawn, pulling his mind back to the land of consciousness, head
tilted to give a sleepy gaze to his partner. He took in the scarred face that
was resting on his shoulder, the wide awake mismatched eyes, the messy yet
extremely soft brown hair and the pouty bruised lips, only to find his own lips
quirked to an amused smile.
How the hell the very same man who hung his victims’ intestine like some
grotesque Christmas lights could look this adorable was a mystery to him.
Savitar shifted a bit until his cheek was pressed up Barry’s clavicle, their
naked legs tangled with one another. “Come on, Barry. Humour me. It’s our third
wedding anniversary.”
“It’s also my fortieth birthday. What the hell happened to after-sex cuddles
and sleeping in?” Barry mumbled, but moved his arms to snake round the bare
slim waist anyway.
“It can come after this, when I’m tired enough to fall asleep.”
Right. So today was one of those days where Savitar’s mind couldn’t shut down
and he decided to drag Barry into the horrid land of insomnia.
Barry yawned, struggling so hard to stay awake. “Okay, shoot.”
“Who framed you?”
Barry shot his husband a pointed look.
“You suck at pillow talk, Savitar,” he mumbled and flicked his finger over the
time remnant’s forehead, his mood had soured considerably. “And to think this
is how my day started…”
His time in prison for the crime he didn’t commit wasn’t exactly the thing he
wanted to talk about right after an extremely mind-blowing birthday slash
anniversary sex, thank-you-very-much.
“Baaarrrrryyyyyyy!!!!”
God, why did he put up with this nuisance again?
“Some jackass speedster named Eobard Thawne,” he gritted out, feeling the scar
on his chest tingled. “That bastard failed to kill me when I was eleven, so he
decided ruining my life would be the second best thing.”
To his surprise, Savitar snorted.
“What?” Barry raised an eyebrow.
“Do all Barry Allen in the multiverse have their life ruined by Thawne?” his
younger counterpart grumbled, and Barry shouldn’t have been surprised to know
that similar thing happened to the time remnant. It was bound to happen in
parallel universes.
But he was surprised, regardless. They never talked about their childhood
history before this.
“What did he, or his doppelganger did to you?”
Well, since Savitar started this conversation, might as well he got to know his
partner deeper.
“Tried to kill me. But future me saved me so he killed my mom instead. Dad got
sent to prison because he tried to stabilize her and the pigs have no other
person to point the crime to. Spent 15 years trying to prove Dad’s innocence,
only to have him killed by Zoom the very year of his release,” Savitar said
flatly, almost too emotionless that had Barry to squeeze the time remnant’s
arms, knowing that there was pain hidden behind that cold façade.
“At least you don’t wake up from three years coma to know that your Dad
committed suicide, your Mom was locked up in asylum and you’re stuck with a
rapist of a foster dad.”
Savitar’s breath hitched against his collarbone and Barry almost regretted
exposing that tidbit.
His history with his foster dad was the reason his former friends so easily
accepted the plot of framing him years ago. As if he would do the same thing
that bastard did to him to a helpless child. But then again, he was under a
form of duress that time, so even though he was internally screaming that he
didn’t do it, his mouth disagreed and fucking confessed. What a really
unfortunate situation. Holding his breath, Barry glanced at the time remnant,
and waited.
Waited for the proverbial shoe to drop.
Then, the time remnant snorted. “Guess you scored the short stick of luck, old
man.”
“Bitch, I’m only six years older than you.”
The unexpected reaction invoked a defensive retort that almost made Barry
cringed.
He didn’t cringe. Nope. Not when Savitar was eyeing him with that gloating
tease in his eyes.
“Uh-huh. And if you paid attention to Frost’s nagging, I am going to age far
slower than the rest of you. My cells didn’t work the same as yours. She
estimated that my cells aged thrice slower than the rest of you,” Savitar’s
tone was gleefully mocking. “By the time you’re in your fifties, I’m not even
in my late thirties yet.”
Barry opened his mouth to retort, only to shut his mouth and scowled.
Savitar grinned at him.
Then, the time remnant climbed up him, draping his lithe body over Barry’s own
like a spoiled cat, his chin rest at the crook of Barry’s clavicle. The time
remnant traced his collar bone with one finger, before shifting down so that he
could kiss the scar on top of Barry’s heart. The soft lips lingered too long on
the embossed skin, and Barry shivered when those lips parted to suckle on the
oversensitive scar.
“This is where he stabbed you?”
Barry didn’t reply, so Savitar didn’t push.
The time remnant continued peppering kisses over the scar, hands sneaked around
Barry’s torso to caress the scars on the older man’s back. Barry tensed,
adrenaline spiked as his mind reeled to the safest escape route he has as he
felt them again; the rough phantom touches that made his skin crawled, the
invisible hands that were recklessly manhandling him—despite the gentle and
admiring way Savitar’s fingers caressed his skin. He knew it was stupid. That
old man was among the first people he murdered when he was reborn and risen to
his villainous glory. And as dangerous Savitar was, Barry knew that the younger
speedster wouldn’t betray him, wouldn’t hurt him—
—but he couldn’t help it.
His scars itched.
They itched badly.
False alarm, he knew it. There was no real danger, here on their soft bed in
Savitar’s floor of the Rogue’s Tower, they were safe in the presence of each
other but yet—
—his body screamed to get into defense—he was in danger. He needed to destroy
the danger.
Destroy destroy destroy—don’t wanna get hurt—
“Ssshhh, Barry, shh,” Savitar cooed, leaning up to gently peck his lips. “I’m
not going to hurt you.”
Barry’s heart was thumping too fast against his ribcage, too loud to his ears
that he almost didn’t hear Savitar.
“I know,” he gritted out, despite the way his muscles were awfully rigid and
tensed, his mind still casing the closest escape route. “Old habit,” he sighed
out once Savitar removed those wandering hands to rest on top of Barry’s chest,
as if showing Barry that he was harmless.
Harmless and Savitar didn’t belong in the same sentence, so Barry was still a
bit edgy.
“Still up for questions?”
Barry held in the urge to snort. “If I’m not, will you go to sleep?”
Savitar’s hair tickled his skin as the time-remnant shook his head. “Nope. I’m
still not tired.”
“Damn it, kid,” Barry groaned. “How many of those energy bar did you scarf down
before we started?”
“Ten? Fifteen?” Barry shivered at the pleasant slide of Savitar’s soft skin
against his own as the time remnant shrugged. “I dunno. I was starving and
don’t exactly have your patience to wait for properly cooked food,” he crinkled
his nose as if the thought of waiting for food disgusted him. “You food snob.”
Barry sighed.
Great. Savitar on energy rush. He really wasn’t getting any sleep tonight, was
he?
“Fine,” he sighed, tightening his embrace on the slim waist. “Quid pro quid.
Ask away, kid.”
“I wanna know about your Iris.”
Barry almost regretted for not obeying his body and just fell asleep for the
rest of the night.
“She is a traitorous bitch,” he spat out through gritted teeth, but couldn’t
find it in to scold Savitar when the younger speedster rubbed small soothing
circles on his hip.
“Uh-huh….,” the lump of (meta)human on his chest nodded, slim fingers trailed
random patterns on Barry’s skin. “What did she do?”
“I thought it’s my turn to ask question?” Barry shot him a pointed look.
“Puh-lease,” Savitar huffed. “That little five-words reply was hardly answering
my question.”
Barry sighed miserably. “She helped out when they arrested me. After she told
me she believed that I’m innocent. Gave me a literal stab at my heart with a
dart that took away my powers right when we’re about to say our wedding vows.”
“That’s….”
“Too dramatic?”
“I wanna say that it’s some sort of Shakespearean level of betrayal right there
but that’ll do to.”
“Wait, you have Shakespeare on your Earth?”
Savitar shifted his head so that he could give a very annoyed look at Barry and
rolled his eyes. “Which Earth doesn’t have Shakespeare?”
“Cold’s Earth doesn’t.”
Savitar stared at him incredulously. “You’re joking.”
“Nope.”
“That’s...,” Savitar frowned, “…wow. Just wow. I can’t imagine an Earth without
the stupid romance of Romeo and Juliet….,” he snorted, before leaning up to
nibble on Barry’s clavicle. “But then again, Cold comes from the Earth where
soulmates mark are actually real thing, so they probably don’t need any stupid
romance play…,” he shuddered. “Wish I could be there when he finally meets his
soulmate. That would be an interesting thing to witness…”
“He has given up on his soulmate. The kid would be like, twenty-something years
younger than him.”
“We could always invite him to join us,” Savitar suggested, batting his lashes
in what that supposed to look flirtatious—though, to Barry, he looked
ridiculous instead. “He kept checking us out and both him and Heatwave had
proven to be useful when he helped us back then, despite how young he was….,”
he added, chuckling humorlessly.
“He rather stayed on his Earth. Our chaos isn’t exactly his style.”
“Pity,” Savitar waved his hands dismissively, before wrapping them around
Barry’s waist again, lips jutted to a pout as he stared at the older speedster.
“And you’re stalling. Come on. Let’s gossip about your dead ex-fiancée.”
“You’re starting to sound like some old gossiping ladies in suburbs, Savitar,”
Barry grumbled, although there was no bite in his tone. “What’s there to know?”
“Like, the whole story of the epic betrayal…?” Savitar suggested, lips curling
to a smug smirk. “Who knows if I got inspired and can become 21st century
Shakespeare?”
Barry had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. “The day you start writing
romance play is the day I committed suicide and left this fucked world for
good.”
Savitar stared at him with a blank stare.
“Barry, you’re the one who fucked this world.”
Barry didn’t even want to argue that one.
“Point,” he agreed, exhaling a heavy tired breath. He shouldn’t have skipped
his midnight snack. This was getting tiring and exhausting, but Savitar
wouldn’t shut up if Barry didn’t give the younger speedster what he wanted. He
groaned out loud, pulling Savitar up until the younger’s cheek was pressing
tight against his throat. “The things I signed up for when I marry you….”
“Love you, old man,” Savitar snorted, kissing Barry’s throat fondly before he
went into silence as if he was waiting for Barry to start speaking.
And Barry did. Each metaphorical pages of his life were bared open for Savitar
to read. The younger speedster listened in silence, ear pressed tight over
Barry’s chest—and it did amuse Barry, the way Savitar seemed to be comforted at
the sound of his heartbeats—while his fingers loosely intertwined with Barry’s
own. Barry kept talking, taking advantage of this rare comfort while Savitar
kept listening, only interrupting to ask questions here and there but remained
mostly silent.
When dawn came and the little beam of sunshine penetrated through their
windows, Barry was mostly half-asleep, too exhausted to care that he was
practically kneading on Savitar’s chest like a kitten. Savitar smiled, cooing
him to sleep. He waited until the kneading turned to soft pawing, until the
tension ebbed away from the older speedster’s body before he tentatively ran a
hand over the scars on Barry’s back.
He held in his breath, waiting for a defensive reaction.
There was no defensive reaction.
But instead, Barry purred in content and snuggled closer to Savitar’s chest.
The scars didn’t itch.
***** 43 Years Old *****
Chapter Summary
     On Barry's 43th birthday, he had a somewhat impossible but very
     pleasant surprise.
“Barry, I want your blueberry pancakes.”
Barry blinked, one hand came up to rub the sleep out of his eyes, eyes
squinting through the dim lighting of early dawn as he tried to digest what he
just heard. There was the familiar weight of Savitar’s palms pressing against
his chest, bare ass wriggling on top his crotch with the thin sheet of their
blanket separating them. Savitar was staring down at him, lips curled to
adorable pout but all that Barry could think was—what the fuck?
Really. What the actual fuck?
“It’s still too early for your weirdness, honey,” Barry groaned, pulling the
pillow to cover his face with full intention of going back to sleep.
“Blueberry pancake.”
Oh god. Savitar has started bouncing on his lap.
“Go ask the maid to make you some,” Barry groaned, pressing the pillow tighter
over his face. He wasn’t young enough to entertain this randomness.
“Nooooo. I want your handmade pancake!!”
“Honey, please…”
“Up! Up! I want blueberry pancake!”
“Savitar….”
“Nuh-uh. Blueberry pancake!”
Barry let out a miserable sigh. He really wasn’t going to sleep in today, was
he?
He threw the pillow off his face and glared at his partner, only to be taken
aback with wide childish grin on Savitar’s face. This was no sardonic mocking
grin like the time remnant usually displayed, but instead a genuine childish
grin. Savitar honestly looked like an innocent child, and that was saying
something because he still has that jailbait look despite being chronologically
mid-thirties.
But then again, his cells did age much slower than Barry, so there’s that.
Barry frowned at the nuisance that was sitting on top of him, taking in the way
Savitar was staring at him happily—the time remnant’s hair fluffed out like
chocolate dipped cloud, lips and scarred cheek stretched to a wide toothy grin
while his mismatched eyes beamed brightly.
Savitar looked almost…glowing.
Sighing, Barry lifted his torso up and rested his forehead against Savitar’s.
“If I make you some pancakes, will you shut up and let me sleep?” He mumbled,
voice came out in a resigned tone.
Yep. Barry has fully resigned. This has somehow becoming a normal occurrence
since the past few weeks, when Savitar started coming to him out of nowhere
with requests for food.
Barry made a mental note to ask Frost if the experimental drug he accidentally
gave Savitar two months ago had weird side effects.
“Up, up,” instead of answering him, the younger man tugged him up, Barry’s dead
weight was nothing to his persistence as he tugged Barry off the bed. “Come on,
I’m hungry.”
Barry sighed miserably.
There was no way he was getting any sleep after this.
“Gimme a minute,” he said, ruffling Savitar’s hair before flashing to the
bathroom. He came back out literally a minute later, fresh from the shower and
fully dressed in his black trim-fitted jeans and peach button down, sleeves
already rolled up to the elbows.
He then halted in his steps, staring with a half-incredulous and half-adoring
smile towards his partner who was sitting at the edge of the bed. The younger
speedster had shimmied into Barry’s discarded sweater, the low dip of the v-
neck exposed part of his chest while the baggy length of said sweater hung way
over his hips and almost fully covered his boxer shorts. Savitar was hugging
the pillow, his mismatched gaze fixed on the floor, or rather, fixed at the
methodical swings of his legs.
Barry had to admit that the swings of Savitar’s legs was almost hypnotic.
Savitar looked up slowly as if noticing Barry’s stare, that childish smile grew
wider on his face as he bounced off the bed, skipped (he literally skipped! Now
Barry was worried) towards Barry with the pillow squished up in one arm. He
grasped Barry’s hand with his free hand and tugged the older speedster down
towards their communal kitchen in a flash.
Killer Frost and Deathstorm were already there, lounging at the pantry with
steaming mugs of coffee in their hands.
“Morning,” Barry greeted, resolving to ignore the bug-eyed stares he was
receiving from his friends, as he made his way to the stove with Savitar’s
trailing behind him.
Frost stared at Savitar’s hand that was holding onto Barry’s shirt, eyes wide
behind her mug.
“Barry…,” Deathstorm started to snicker. “Should I ask?”
“Please don’t,” Barry shook his head, smiling weakly.
He pulled out the ingredients, waving the maids who tried to help him away and
proceeded to mix the batter, being mindful to not go to too fast. It was not
long after that he started mixing a new batch of batter as the current one was
sizzling on the stove, slowly being cooked to perfection. Barry worked
silently, while Savitar, on the other hand, remained attached to his shirt,
only tugging on the fabric when he wanted a spoonful of the batter—of which
Barry dutifully fed him with an amused smile.
“One more,” Savitar moaned, opening his mouth and leant towards the spoon in
Barry’s hand.
“You’re not supposed to eat pancake batter, honey,” Barry countered,
exasperated yet resigned as he scooped another spoonful and offered it to the
younger speedster.
“You still give it to me,” Savitar hummed, wrapping his arms around Barry’s
waist and squished the pillow between their bodies. “Oooooh, blueberries~!” he
giggled, picking one fresh blueberry from the bowl on the counter and popped it
into his mouth, chin placed over the older speedster’s shoulder while he chewed
as Barry turned around to flip the pancakes.
The maids seemed to be torn between being horrified at such uncharacteristic
behavior or squealing in delight at the adorable way Savitar was clinging to
Barry. Though, a glare from Barry sent them scattering to work as they quickly
did the dishes before making themselves scarce to other parts of the building
to do their tasks. Barry instantly relaxed once it was only the four of them in
the area.
“Go grab yourself some drinks, Savitar,” Barry instructed with a tired smile.
“I’ll be over with your pancakes in a minute.”
To his exasperation, Savitar shook his head and latched tighter onto his body.
“Don’t wanna,” the younger speedster pouted.
Barry groaned.
Deathstorm was obviously amused, cackling softly underneath his breath, his
nose pressed to his wife’s shoulder as he shook and trembled in laughter.
Killer Frost, on the other hand, had her icy eyes narrowed towards the pair.
Her gaze was calculative throughout the whole period Barry kept piling stacks
of pancakes onto the line of plates but she kept her silence until Barry and
Savitar was seated in front of her. She waited until Savitar was fully occupied
with the food when she decided to speak.
“Barry,” she called, tilting her head in the direction of the hallway. “We need
to talk, NOW.”
Barry blinked, lips twisted to a grimace at her obvious displease but kept his
expression calm regardless. He ruffled Savitar’s hair, smiling fondly when the
younger beamed back at him with cheeks puffed with food before he finally
stood, trailing behind Frost. They stopped just outside the entrance to the
kitchen, in the hallway leading to the elevators to their private floors—and
Frost must have understood Barry too well, because their current location
allowed the older speedster to keep an eye on Savitar while simultaneously
being out of hearing range.
“What did I do…?” he started, sipping on his coffee to mask his nervousness,
the hair on his arm has started to rise upon the sudden drop of temperature and
the swirls of light sheen of ice that started to coat the walls.
Crap. Frost was pissed.
Frost crossed her arms and stared at him in disbelief. “You dare to ask me
that?”
“Uh…,” Barry said, confused and slightly terrified. His back started to itch,
so he knew that Frost was serious—she was serious enough to be a threat to him.
“I really don’t know…?”
The temperature dropped lower and Barry felt the speedforce within him trembled
and struggled against the threat. He resisted the urge to attack her, because
he knew that despite the blazing itch on his back and the danger she posed, she
wasn’t doing this just to betray him. They had been working together for almost
a decade now and Barry begrudgingly admitted that he trusted her.
Still didn’t explain why his scars tingled and saw her as a threat though.
“Really, what did I do?” Barry choked out, white mist puffed out of his mouth,
light sheen of ice latched onto his skin, although they receded almost
instantly the moment Frost noticed his pain.
“You probably just gave me months of sleepless nights and a massive headache.
Damn it, Barry. I honestly prayed that the results of his monthly check-up were
wrong but fuck—,” Frost scowled, although her tone was no longer hostile, the
temperature risen just slightly as the ice on the wall slowly melted. When she
stared at him, her gaze was more exasperated than angry. “I told you to keep
your hands off him until I gave the confirmation that the effect of my
experimental drugs gone.”
Barry shivered, trying to regain his fast cognitive processing again as he
tried to recall that particular warning she had given him. Yes, she did warn
him about that two months ago, when he mistakenly given Savitar an experimental
drug rather than their usual sleeping pills henceforth causing the younger
speedster to be seriously ill that Frost had to quarantine him. Frost warned
Barry to stay away from Savitar until she gave the green-light, but Savitar had
bounced back to health while Frost was away to meet her doppelganger in Cold’s
Earth, so…
Honestly, what do you expect from two sexually active lovers that had been
separated without sex for over two weeks?
Of course they fucked like a bunch of horny rabbits on Energizer batteries.
Barry really didn’t know why Frost had freaked out to find Savitar asleep in
their bed, the evidences of their heated reunion were obvious that Barry
couldn’t even came up with a lie to stop Frost from icing the whole building.
Mardon had way too much fun teaching Boo ice-skating that day.
“What did your drugs do, anyway?” Barry scowled, eyeing his now frozen coffee
with distaste. “You had him quarantined for like two weeks and you freaked out
when you found us together even though he seemed to be on his top health,” he
grumbled, honestly still annoyed that both of them kept what had happened
during those quarantine weeks a secret from him. “What? Did he develop some
form of STDs for speedsters or something?”
Barry meant that as a sarcasm.
He didn’t expect for Frost to sneer and nodded solemnly at his sarcasm.
“Oh, you’re getting STD alright,” she hissed, her grimace was fierce. “When
Savitar escaped the quarantine and straight up went for a wild romp with
you—you two just signed up for a really dangerous disease that wouldn’t go away
for 18 years,” she sneered at his confused frown. “Side effects included mood
swings, odd cravings, drama, headache and so many other irritating symptoms.”
Barry stared blankly at her. What the actual fuck—
“My drug changed his biology to that of a ‘she’ during those two weeks, Barry,”
Frost smirked, perhaps enjoying the way Barry slowly paled as his mind caught
on to her words. “And when she went to you, she hasn’t fully changed back to a
‘he’.”
Barry’s mind broke.
“But—”
“Barry, why do you think Savitar insisted on having you drunk that night?”
Barry’s back started to itch and he didn’t even want to question it. This was a
whole new level of danger.
He shakily peeked at Savitar who was happily shoveling pancakes into his
mouth—and fuck, the kid did glow.
“Congratulations, Barry,” Frost smiled at his shocked stupor and thrust a piece
of black and white picture at him. “It’s gonna be hard now that his external
physical body had completely reverted back to that of a male, but I’m qualified
for a C-section, and Caitlin was going to help too, so I assure you that I’ll
make sure that they both went through this safely,” she smirked, strutting back
into the kitchen, hips swayed with too much sass for her own good. “Now, go and
rejoice, my friend…You’re going to be a father~”
Barry stared at her back with gaping mouth, before his gaze fell to the picture
in his hand.
A tentative smile spread across his face.
Well, at least this ball of cells that was supposed to be his child looked
healthy.
***** 46 Years Old *****
Chapter Summary
     On Barry's 46th birthday, he got the scare of his life which ended in
     somewhat cute ending.
“No, no, no, no, come back here you little—hey, stop rolling—no, no, no, no—”
There was a crash, followed by Savitar’s whine of pain. There was childish
laughter too that was countered by low grumbling by Savitar.
“Stay here and be a good boy while I go and grab your milk—oh fucking hell kid
DID YOU JUST PHASE THROUGH YOUR OWN CRIB??!!”
Barry halted just outside the nursery, listening in to Savitar’s tirade and the
laughter of their son with a soft smile on his face. The smile then turned to a
frown as his gaze landed on his blood-soaked suit. He contemplated for a
moment, before flashing away to get a quick shower and a fresh change. Even
though Savitar was inclined to be nicer on Barry’s birthday, judging from the
current tension between them, Barry thought that it would be wise of him to not
cross any lines. Once he returned to stand awkwardly in front of the door, he
did a quick check-up on himself, making sure no traces of his bloody encounter
with the breachers earlier of the day was visible as he punched in the security
lock, allowing the laser to scan his retina before silently pushed the door
open.
He smiled upon seeing Savitar standing by the crib, rocking their two-years old
in his arms as the toddler suckled on his tiny little thumb, one hand twisted
and tugged gently on Savitar’s hair—a habit Barry knew indicated that the child
was so close to sleep. He closed the door behind him, letting the security
locked the door and shuddered as the waves of energy field been erected over
the walls. Savitar looked up from their child to give him a wary stare.
Barry halted about a good two meters from both of them, arms outstretched for
the child.
“Mind if I hold him?” he asked softly, the scars on his back itched and tingled
when Savitar’s mismatched eyes narrowed suspiciously at him.
“Yes, I do mind,” Savitar spat out, backing away while his arms curled
protectively around the sleepy toddler. “Get the hell outta here, Barry.”
“Savitar…,” Barry kept a composed face, trying so hard to not let the hurt from
the words showed on his face. “I won’t take him away, honey.”
“Doubtful.”
“Babe, please. He is my son too.”
“You don’t seem to remember that when you decided to send him off to ANOTHER
Earth, WITHOUT telling me.”
Barry sighed.
Savitar was still pissed.
“If I told you, would you allow me?” Barry asked, dropping his arms dejectedly,
because it was clear that he won’t be feeling the warm weight of his son
snuggling against his chest today.
“I carried him for nine months, Barry…,” Savitar growled, although his
hostility suddenly shifted to concern when the toddler whimpered. He hushed the
child, planting gentle kiss over the toddler’s soft temple before returning his
glare towards Barry. “He grew inside me. Do you honestly think that I’m going
to ship him off to another Earth just because some cocky breachers started
wreaking havoc in our cities?”
“It’s not forever,” Barry tried to reason. “Once we take care of Zoom and clean
our cities from these breachers, we’ll retrieve him back,” he pleaded, letting
his guard down to show bare his emotions to the younger speedster. This was no
game of manipulation. Barry was genuinely worried over the safety of his little
boy. “It’s too dangerous for him to be here. We’re lucky that no one apart from
the two of us knew that our son is here, but this luck will run out soon.”
“So adamant of getting rid of him…,” Savitar sneered, stepping backwards as
Barry tried to inch forward. “I should have known that you don’t want him from
the start.”
Barry’s breath hitched.
Those words stung worse than he expected.
“Savitar…”
“STAY. AWAY.”
“Earth-34 is peaceful. He will be safe there,” Barry said, voice calm yet
persuasive despite the raging emotions inside him. “Plus, he’ll be in good
hands. Lena is strong enough to protect him—”
“Did you not remember who Lena Allen’s husband is? Her husband is a god damn
goody-two-shoes hero,” Savitar cut him off, lips curled to a mocking sneer.
“I’m not letting my son go anywhere near that abomination.”
“Either that, or we risk Zoom finding out about our son,” Barry tried again,
his voice grew a bit more strained now. “Honey, Henry is two. I know that our
son is incredibly brilliant but he is still a toddler. If we cleaned this whole
mess with the breachers within a month, he wouldn’t be able to remember all the
heroic bullshits our doppelganger would try to feed into his mind.”
Savitar curled his lips in an angry grimace but said nothing.
“And Lena lived by a code of honor despite being married to a hero,” Barry took
the chance to persuade more. “She owed us. She would do anything to pay that
debt off, including restraining the urge to influence our son to the bright
side..”
“Her husband wouldn’t,” Savitar retorted, though the hostility in his voice
seemed to diminish now.
“And it’s his life that Lena tried to save when she made the deal with us,”
Barry gave a tentative smile, sensing the lack of hostility in his spouse’s
words.
Though, before he could placate Savitar even further, there was sharp pain
blazing on the embossed taut skin of his back. He winced and shot a cautious
look around, trying to look for the threat as the ground suddenly trembled
underneath them, the walls shivered and protested against some powerful force.
Barry barely had the time to flash towards Savitar, wrapping his arms around
both his partner and their son as there was an explosion—the walls and roof
collapsed around them. He carried them both away from the ruins of the little
safehouse, adrenaline and anger spiked at the terrified whine from the toddler
pressed to his chest.
“Well, well, well,” the scratchy voice of black-clad speedster greeted him as
the dusts of the destroyed house settled to the ground. “The rumours are right.
You do have a child…”
Barry twitched, teeth flashed in a grimace at the immense itch on his back.
“Zoom,” he hissed back, stepping forward to hide his son behind him. “Fancy
seeing you here.”
“Fancy seeing you here too, Flash,” Zoom mocked, stepping over the rubbles as
he gave a cursory glance around the destroyed house. “You didn’t strike me as
the guy who would fancy a lonely-cottage-at-countryside…”
“I guess your assumptions about me is wrong,” the sneer came out a little
strained, but his son was squirming behind him, little fists struggle to escape
Savitar’s hold and tugged on the back of his shirt.
Barry felt the tension radiating from the younger speedster intensified when he
felt warm weight clung onto his shoulder, the soft chubby cheek of his son
pressed to his neck as the child peeked towards Zoom. There were some desperate
rustles of movement as Savitar tried to pull their son back to the safety of
his embrace, but the child was having none of it. One little hand reached out
over Barry’s shoulder and the little giggle from the toddler would’ve sounded
so sweet if they weren’t in this kind of situation.
“Zoom!!” the child garbled, clapping happily when Zoom turned his attention
towards him.
Barry could tell that Zoom was grinning behind that mask.
“Aren’t you going to introduce us, Flash?” the black-clad speedster sneered,
inching closer with arms outstretched as if inviting Henry towards him.
“HENRY, NO!!!”
Savitar’s scream was the only warning Barry got when his son suddenly climbed
over his shoulder, leapt gracefully to land in front of Barry and promptly sped
away towards Zoom. Barry had to restrain Savitar back, locking his arms around
the waist of his hysteric spouse as their son reached Zoom. Cold sweat dripped
down Barry’s cheek when their little boy reached out both of those little arms
up towards their enemy.
Though, the itch on his back receded, as if there was no more threat.
Which was ridiculous, judging from the current situation.
“Up!” Henry squealed, eyes bright and wide despite the scary design of Zoom’s
mask.
“Your son is excited to meet me,” Zoom mocked gleefully, clearly enjoying the
way Barry struggled to restrain the screaming Savitar—the younger speedster had
clawed on Barry’s skin, the tip of his fingers dug and phased into Barry’s
arms, causing the older speedster to hiss in pain. Zoom bent down, amused as
the toddler promptly leapt into his open arms and clung to his neck. “Heh. I
might adopt him if—”
Savitar’s scream was deafening.
Barry watched, baffled and dumbfounded at the sprout of blood that splashed
over his son—and he had to wonder if Zoom had attacked little Henry or his eyes
weren’t actually playing tricks on him.
Because Barry just saw his little boy thrust one of those little arms through
Zoom’s throat.
The tinkling giggle of his son halted Savitar’s scream and confirmed Barry’s
suspicion of what he had saw. The little boy turned his face to stare at them,
blood dripped from the matted brown hair down to the chubby cheeks and drenched
the green onesies red. Barry could make out Henry’s little hand wriggled at the
back of Zoom’s neck before the toddler pulled his hand back, dragging what it
seemed like severed spinal cord with it. Zoom fell onto the ground the exact
moment Savitar escaped Barry’s hold—the younger speedster had their son pressed
against his chest in a heartbeat, cradling the bloodied toddler while cooing
softly despite the obvious fact that Henry was not even traumatized with the
change of events.
The kid was giggling for fuck’s sake.
Barry didn’t know whether to be horrified or relief when Henry offered him the
severed spinal cord—his own throat clenched upon seeing the chunks of bones
sticking out of the organ—all the while the toddler was giggling oh so sweetly.
The child pouted when Barry pried the thing off his little grip and threw the
disgusting warm object away. Savitar appeared to not notice, as he seemed to be
trapped in a trance—cooing and trying to comfort Henry—thus causing a shocked
hitch of breath to escape him when Barry embraced him, their son pressed
between their chests. Henry clapped happily, enjoying his comfortable position
being stuck between his parents, a sweet squeal escaped his garbles when Barry
kissed his forehead.
“I think Henry was trying to make a point….,” Barry murmured, shifting his face
to plant a gentle kiss over Savitar’s temple.
“What?” Savitar snorted, staring in amusement. “That we’re terrible influence
on him?”
Barry shook his head. “I think he wanted us to stop fighting,” he said, jerking
his chin in the direction to the little warm weight between their chests.
Their eyes zeroed into the way Henry was tightly fisting on the front of their
shirts as if the child was trying to pull them closer. Then, Henry seemed to
notice that his parents’ eyes were on him, because the child promptly tilted
his head up, showing one toothy smile towards them.
“Dada, Daddy no fight?” he garbled, staring up curiously at them.
Savitar laughed, pulled the child up and kissed his cheeks fondly, completely
ignoring the blood that was dripping from Henry’s hair. Barry leant in for a
kiss too, squishing the adorable (bloody) toddler between him and Savitar, in
one big hug.
“No more fights, little one,” he hummed, eyes softening when Savitar’s
mismatched eyes glanced at him.
Henry shifted his gaze to Savitar, those wide adorable green eyes stared
hopefully at him, thus invoking a fond smile on the younger speedster’s face.
“Yeah, no more fights,” Savitar smiled, leaning closer to kiss Barry on the
cheek.
Henry clapped and cheered as Barry’s eyes fluttered close—both parents moved to
a chaste press of their lips, savouring the sense of relief now that their
biggest threat was gone. They parted when Barry suddenly snorted a laugh, hence
prompting Savitar to scowl at the sudden change of mood.
“What?”
“I was thinking of what kind of trauma our Earth-34 doppelganger would suffer
if he saw this...”
Barry laughed, pointing at the way Henry was attempting to phase out of their
arms, green onesies and thick brown hair drenched with blood while the little
grabby hands reached out to Zoom’s corpse as if the dead black-clad speedster
was one big toy that the child wished to play with. Savitar grinned
sardonically, placing his son down and watched in complete amusement when the
child promptly sat on top of Zoom’s chest, those wide eyes grew even wider in
awe and wonder as he stared at his first kill. Savitar ruffled Henry’s hair,
tilting his face up to sneer at Barry.
“Still think it’s a good idea to send him off to another earth?”
Barry stared down, gazing at the way little Henry gently poked at Zoom’s
unseeing eyes, seemingly interested in trying to pluck the eyes out. The child
looked up to meet his gaze, the huge green orbs were wide and pleading as he
pointed at the dead speedster’s eye, giving his parents his best adorable face
while he demanded;
“Want eyes.”
Barry sighed miserably, thinking back at the jars of specimens his son has
taken a shine to whenever they caught him in Frost’s lab and he had to wonder
what had gone wrong that their child grew up to be like this.
Though, as per usual, Savitar, the ever super-doting father, instantly scooped
Henry up, murmuring promises to have Zoom’s eyeballs preserved in cute little
jar for the kid—
Yep. It was completely Savitar’s fault that their child turned out like this.
***** 48 Years Old *****
Chapter Summary
     On Barry's 48th birthday, he spends his time with Len and Lisa.
“Dad, come on!!!”
“Henry, no.”
“Please? Pretty please? It’s so much fun here, I don’t wanna go home yet…”
“Still a no. I’m picking you up in an hour.”
“Daaaaaaaaaaaddddd!!!”
Barry pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to fend off the incoming headache
as he restrained himself from glaring at the holographic screen. He didn’t even
want to look at the screen, knowing that he would lose the little shreds of his
resolve the exact moment he met the wide pleading gaze of his five-years-old
son.
Damn it, the kid hasn’t even reached double digits age yet but he has already
mastered the manipulation game.
Squaring his shoulders, Barry scowled at the screen, determined to not fall to
Henry’s puppy eyes trick. “Don’t you pity your old man, kid? You don’t even
want to come back and celebrate my birthday?”
“Well….,” Henry trailed, obviously a bit guilty now before he beamed back to
his default cheerful mode. “It’s not like I don’t want to celebrate your
birthday….”
“Then why are you so persistent on not wanting to come home?” Barry growled.
It was his biggest mistake to tell his son that one of his doppelganger was a
wizard and a well-known potion master. One visit to Earth-77 and Henry now
wanted to spend most of his free time there learning whatever the heck magical
chemistry his doppelganger on Earth-77 was cooking up in his eerie dungeon.
The fact that Bartholomew lived alone in a forest that housed so many magical
beasts had made it even difficult for Barry to persuade his son to come home.
“After the silly fight you had with Daddy the other day—which, by the way, I’m
totally taking his side, cuz pineapples don’t belong on pizza, Dad—,” Henry
popped his lips, attempting to be cute despite the evil grin that grew on his
face. “I just thought you want to spend more time with him without the reserves
of protecting the non-existent innocence of my ears. It is your birthday and
wedding anniversary after all…”
Barry choked on his coffee. Damn this kid…
Though, before he could retort back, he heard the muffled voice of his
doppelganger from Henry’s side, followed with a loud noise that suspiciously
sounded like an angry beast flapping its wings;
“Hey, Henry…Wanna try to ride a dragon?”
Barry watched Henry’s eyes widened in excitement and knew that further attempts
to placate his son to come home was futile. He gave Henry a blank unimpressed
look when the kid yelled back at Barry’s Earth-77 doppelganger, telling
Bartholomew that he would be over in a few minutes. The kid then turned his
head to the camera, teeth flashed in a bright grin as he beamed adorably at
Barry.
“I’m in the middle of a huge project with Bartholomew, so…can you pick me up
next month? After the Great Massacre Day? The project should be completed by
then,” Henry halted, pondering for a moment before he added, “You can have some
grown-ups fun with Daddy and your new boyfriend that night, no need to worry
about protecting my innocence—oh, Dad, don’t give me that look. Both of us knew
that you’re seeing someone else, and Daddy is pretty irked that you don’t wanna
share, so…,” the kid grinned as Barry gaped, “….I expect by the time I come
home, you have introduced your boyfriend to him so that Daddy would finally
stop complaining. Sharing is caring, Dad, so stop hiding your not-so-secret
boyfriend before Daddy loses his patience and started digging around…,” yep,
that was Barry’s jaw officially unhinged from his skull as his five-years-old
kept rambling, “...I’ll be sure to bring souvenirs for your boyfriend too—I
hope he would like me and we could get along well—”
Barry was too stunned to even try to speak when Henry bid goodbyes and loves to
him before the kid promptly hung up.
He then stared at the blank screen in disbelief.
What the actual fuck—
“Why aren’t you like normal kids, Henry…,” Barry whimpered, resisting his urge
to bang his head to the smooth polished surface of his table.
The table seemed so inviting though, prompting him to submit to the urge to
bang his head to its shiny surface. Shoving back his multiverse communicator
into his back pocket, Barry flashed out, determined to have some fresh air
before he had to face Savitar in the next hour and tell his spouse that their
son wasn’t coming back until next month.
Barry winced. That wasn’t the conversation he was looking forward to.
Snuffing out a random burst of flame on his sweater, Barry treaded slowly on
the paved path, not paying attention to the visitors of the park who seemed to
have taken notice of him and gave him a wide berth of space like he was a
plague. He ignored them, resolving to sit on the bench nearby, letting the
warmth of sunset breeze hit his skin as his eyes fluttered close. It was a
rather tiring week for him, with the addition of Savitar sulking and moping
around—Mother Hen Syndrome, as Barry and Deathstorm had agreed—so needless to
say that Barry wasn’t really looking forward to breaking the news that Henry
refused to come home to Savitar.
Thinking back at how weird his son’s behavior was as compared to normal
kids—and that wasn’t even coupled with the fact that Henry had showed advanced
cognitive power that made the kid smarter than normal adults—Barry suddenly had
that serious needs to bang his head to any solid surface available again.
Why must his family be twistedly messed up like this?
The surface of the oak tree next to him seemed so inviting now, but he has an
image to uphold, and the sight of the Flash banging his head to a tree in the
local park wouldn’t be an intimidating sight at all—
"Um, Barry….are you okay?”
Barry opened his eyes, finally realizing that he had been banging his forehead
to his fists all these times and it had attracted the attention of the parents
watching over their children at the playground—although neither of them dared
to meet his eyes when he sneaked a look at them. Though, in contrast to the
wary parents, the teenage boy was staring at him, thick brows furrowed in
worries while those icy blue eyes flashed in concern. The little brunette girl
holding onto his hand stared at Barry curiously, her wide eyes alternated
between her brother and Barry.
“Lenny? Who is this?” she questioned, eyeing Barry with complete interest.
Barry watched in complete amusement when Len spluttered, obviously trying to
find an explanation to introduce Barry to his baby sister without slipping in
the fact that Barry was one of his regulars at the Devil’s. Pink tint crept up
Len’s neck as Lisa’s stare grew more curious and intent that Barry chortled out
a laugh.
Oh, how he wished that his son could be as innocent as Lisa.
But then again, Henry’s first kill was when he was two and the guy was a crazy
speedster from another universe, so…
There was no way his little boy could be as innocent as Lisa.
But Barry longed to entertain such innocence.
Thus, Barry stood from his seat, only to drop onto one knee kneel in front of
Lisa. “Hello, Princess Lisa,” he hummed, voice smooth and charming as he
reached for her hand, a little giggle escaped her lips when he planted a gentle
kiss over her knuckles. “I’m Barry, a friend of your brother.”
Len flushed slightly upon hearing that.
“Princess?” Lisa, on the other hand, immediately squealed, clearly happy being
treated like that.
Barry mocked a shocked look. “Pardon me, Your Highness. Am I wrong? Are you
perhaps the queen instead of the princess?”
Lisa started giggling.
Barry smiled back, stealing a quick glance at Len who was staring at him with
half-awed, half-adoring look. The boy averted his gaze when his eyes met
Barry’s. Standing properly, Barry offered his arms towards Lisa, of which she
happily leapt into, enjoying the free ride he was offering to her. She wrapped
her tiny little arms round Barry’s neck, being a generally good child as Barry
carried her with Len walking silently beside him.
The bug-eyed disbelief look they were receiving from the other parents as Barry
played with Lisa in the playground was so hilarious that it tempted Barry to
show his power and took Lisa for a run just for the hell of it. Though, he
resisted that temptation, and pointedly ignored the attention they were
receiving, especially when Len joined Barry and Lisa in the sandbox, helping
them to build whatever castle that Lisa was trying to build.
By the time the darkness had engulfed their surroundings, Lisa was worn out and
curled up in Barry’s arms, her tiny little fists tightened on Barry’s sweater
as she kept trying to stifle her yawns. Len walked beside Barry, silent as the
dead, although the nervous energy that radiated from him thrummed restlessly
for each step they taken heading out of the park.
“Umm…,” the teenage boy started, though he seemed to swallow back his words
when Barry tilted his gaze towards him.
“Yes, Lenny?” Barry smiled, rocking Lisa slowly when the little girl started to
doze off in his arms.
“I’m sorry about her…,” Len muttered, clearly embarrassed with the way Lisa so
comfortably curled in Barry’s arms.
“Nah, I like it,” Barry shrugged. “She’s a good girl.”
That invoked a soft smile on Len’s face. “Yes, she is,” he agreed easily,
before halting as they now at the entrance of the park. He offered his arms to
take Lisa back.
Instead of obliging to Len’s silent request, Barry shook his head and adjusted
Lisa in his arms, allowing the little girl to snore softly on his shoulder. He
grasped Len’s outstretched hand, having no restrain to hold the boy’s hand now
that no one was around to witness his show of affection. Len spluttered at the
sudden action, but silently obliged, his fingers tightened around Barry’s hand
as they walked down the familiar road heading towards the dingy motel Len was
staying at. Len seemed uncomfortable to have Barry following him into the dingy
motel room, of which Barry pointedly ignored, liking the company enough to
dismiss the shabby environment.
“I’m ordering food,” Barry called out once they had placed Lisa onto the bed
and Len was busying himself trying to prepare the bath for the little girl.
“Anything you want in preference?"
“Wait, what—” Len spluttered, poking his head out of the bathroom as he stared
at Barry with flushed cheeks. “You don’t have to—”
“Lenny, it’s my birthday. Let me spoil someone for today,” Barry smiled, waving
the worried boy off as he proceeded flip through the takeout menus, resolving
to order something from each restaurant listed there.
“But—”
“Please, I insist.”
Savitar was probably still moping and sulking in Henry’s room (like he had been
doing since the past few weeks) and wouldn’t care if Barry had dinner
outside—he really didn’t care about Barry these days, now that Barry thought
about it. It was irritating, but Barry had gotten used to fall onto second
place whenever Henry was in the competition. Sighing, Barry proceeded to order
the food, being mindful to add some sweet varieties for Lisa. After placing the
orders and be assured that their food will arrive in half an hour, Barry turned
towards Len with a smile, only to frown when he saw the embarrassed flush on
the boy’s cheeks and the little shivers ripping down the slender malnourished
body.
“Lenny?”
He saw everything in slow-motion, but yet his body didn’t move to react when
Len pounced onto him, chapped lips caught his own into a hurried kiss, warm
palms pushed up his shirt to map out his chest and he only started reacting
when Len parted his lips, of which he took as the permission to deepen the
kiss. They tumbled in the small room until they made it into the bathroom, the
only safe place they had in case Lisa woke up and caught them.
Barry exhaled a shaky breath when Len’s hand slipped inside to stroke him.
“Lenny,” he bit back a moan, one hand curled on the nape of the boy’s neck so
that he could pull the boy away. “Hey, baby, snowflakes,” he murmured, digging
his nail slightly into the boy’s neck to gain Len’s attention. “You’re not
working tonight, Lenny. You don’t have to do this,” he hissed when the boy’s
slender fingers flicked over his slit and spread the pre-cum around the
sensitive head. “I’m not treating you so that I could get into your pants. I
genuinely wanted to spoil you and your sister."
Len hushed him with a gentle kiss.
“I know, Barry,” the boy hummed, mouthing on Barry’s neck hungrily. “You’re
always so kind to me,” he murmured, lips sucking hard enough to leave marks on
Barry’s skin while his hand moved a little bit faster, until Barry had no
choice but to lean over the sink, head thrown back against the cracked mirror
as the speedster tried his best to restrain his powers. Len pecked Barry’s lips
again, before promptly dropped to his knees.
“Lenny, you really don’t have to—”
“I want to, Barry,” Len pleaded, tugging Barry’s jeans down to reveal his
prize. He licked his lips, tilted his head up to stare wantonly at the older
man. “Please."
Barry groaned, screwing his eyes shut and threw his head back, his breathing
grew labored when he submitted to Len’s needs and wants.
He prayed hard that they didn’t wake Lisa up with this little endeavor.
One innocent child ruined by his hands was enough.
***** Shower and Angry Killer Frost *****
Chapter Summary
     Extension of Chapter 3...because any installments of this series
     wouldn't be complete without a sex scene. lol
“You won’t regret this?”
Barry brought Savitar’s left hand up, planting a kiss over the glittering
ring—it was simple gold band, with little lightning bolt engraved on it, three
little blue sapphires studded along the engravement. Barry’s ring was perfectly
identical, only with rubies instead of sapphires.
“Never,” he sighed then, intertwining their fingers together and brought their
joined hands to rest against the wall. “Will you?”
Savitar tightened his grip on Barry’s hand and shook his head. “Never.”
With that, Barry swooped in for a kiss, lips soft and careful, filled with
genuine fondness as his hips rolled slowly, rocking oh so gently with no
urgency. He wanted to savour this, wanting to go slow and gentle for once. All
these times it was pure lust, the needs to satisfy their crazy libido combined
with immense hatred to their respective old flames—Barry’s traitorous Iris,
Savitar’s hateful Barry—but now those old flames needed to die down.
There was no more turning back for both of them.
They had strayed too far from their previous life to even had the chance to
reclaim it.
“Barry…”
That sigh was one of the most musical sounds Barry had ever heard.
"Savitar …," Barry murmured, and instead of tangling his fingers possessively
in Savitar's hair like he often did, he let his fingers skimmed down the bare
sides, mapping the contrast between smooth skin and the twisted skin of the
burn scar with touches just hard enough for it to be a sensual motion instead
of ticklish, and rested them on the slender hips. "Before we get way too
frisky, you think I could get one quick kiss?"
Savitar shivered as Barry’s hands settled on his hips, those thumbs stroking
his sensitive skin, his breathing grew a bit more labored, his legs
automatically wrapped tighter round the older man’s waist. He loved it when
Barry roughly manhandled him, but this, Barry acting all loving and sweet, was
even better. Savitar had to fight to keep his lashes from fluttering shut,
feeling the heat of a blush dusting his cheeks. Why did Barry always have this
kind of power on him? It was impossible to remain aggressive against him when
he was acting sweeter than usual like this, asking Savitar’s permission for
everything, and being so gentle to him.
Even on this Dark Earth, Barry Allen was going to be the death of him.
“…Yeah,” Savitar breathed, leaning towards the older speedster, craving the
closeness once more. He allowed Barry’s lips to brush against his, parting his
lips to allow Barry to deepen the kiss before he was even asked, whimpering
with need.
The strong response he got from Savitar shocked Barry a bit, but not in an
unpleasant way. Savitar's lips were eager, allowing him to deepen the kiss
quickly. Barry removed one hand to cup Savitar’s scarred cheek, the other
gripped tighter round the trim waist. The wet slide of their skin, coupled with
the erotic slide of their hard flesh invoked soft moans to spill from his
lover’s lips. Those small pleasured noise set Barry's blood on fire, his own
body blurred in excitement, so he quickly pulled away from the kiss with a
small gasp.
"Damn it, kid… I was planning to be at least a bit romantic with you today…,"
Barry grumbled, tightening his grip on his lover's hips slightly and rested his
forehead against his newlywed husband’s.
If he wanted to keep on with his plan, to render the younger speedster
breathless with gentleness and affection unlike their usual lustful romp, Barry
was in serious need to keep his non-existent self-control in check. He was
already hard and buzzing with excitement and it wouldn't take much for him to
forget everything he had planned to devour Savitar in the sweetest gentlest way
possible—to make today’s different from their usual rough sex.
Savitar whined desperately, legs slid lower down Barry’s thighs.
God damn it, Barry was at his wit’s end.
With a new resolve, Barry quickly leant away and adjusted the shower until the
water left tingling feeling on his skin. He planted desperate small kisses all
over his lover’s skin, who was looking a little bit dazed. Barry trailed his
hands lower, wrapping his arms tight round Savitar’s torso, holding the younger
speedster close again, all the while trying his best to ignore the erotic slide
of Savitar's wet skin against his.
"I really don’t want to take you right here," Barry grunted, and that was the
truth. At least for today, he wanted to wine and dine Savitar properly,
consummating their new bond without their usual ruthless kinky behavior being
thrown into the mix.
Of course, that was sort of thrown out of window now with two dead bodies quite
literally lying around just outside the door.
But Barry wanted to salvage this—he did have a backup plan, one involving a
private island, small homey cottage and beautiful beach that they could reach
within fifteen minutes of superspeed casual running.
Killer Frost still didn’t know that both Savitar and Barry wouldn’t be around
for the next two weeks.
Barry gulped when Savitar’s heels dug at the back of his knees, feeling his
resolve shattered to pieces at the low wanting groan that tore from the time
remnant’s throat. He held back a whimper, the hot spray of the water made him
felt dizzy as he tried to find his words.
“But, if you want it, you need to tell me now,” he managed to choke out as he
cupped Savitar's ass, and ground their hips together meaningfully, moaning
quietly at the slight friction. "I promise to be gentle, if you want."
Savitar moaned as Barry’s hips ground into his, and he brought his hands up to
clutch on Barry’s shoulders, his fingers digging into the skin as pleasure
clouded his senses. “Barr…Barry...,” he panted, suddenly needing more.
What had happened to his cold-hearted persona? He wasn’t like this. Wasn’t the
kind of guy who would behave as unsightly as this but yet look at him now.
Whimpering and practically begging to be devoured, Barry’s small pleasured
noises doing absolutely nothing to help his cause. He knew he was going to pay
for this later, as his body was still healing from the pain, from the rough
ruthless way Barry had taken him last night. He has super healing, but it
appeared the speedster-proofed alcohol had delayed his healing, leaving him
with immense soreness and sharp pain he rarely suffered. He was going to be
hurt even more if they do this here, but he just couldn’t help himself. He
wanted this so bad.
“Barry, please, I need you,” he whined, bucking his hips forwards into Barry’s,
pleased with the strangled moan that tore from the elder’s throat. Savitar
leaned forward slightly again, pressing a kiss to Barry’s lips, nipping at the
bottom one before he abandoned the kiss, instead trailing soft kisses up his
lover’s jaw line, unable to stop himself. “Need you to be gentle though,” he
breathed out against Barry’s damp skin, finding it difficult to form sentences,
feeling almost dizzy with the intensity of his arousal combined with the heat
of the shower. “Don’t think that my healing is kicking in yet. It still hurts.”
He then realized what he just whined out and wanted to kick himself.
Barry wouldn’t let him live this down—Savitar, the God of Speed, whining about
pain from ruthless sex. How humiliating.
Unknowing to him, Barry's own head was spinning with desire from the feel of
his lover's lips against his jaw. The friction from their hips moving together,
combined with the little groans falling from Savitar's lips was a lethal
combination that made his eyes fluttered and unfocused momentarily.
"Sorry, babe," Barry bit his lip to keep from attacking the tempting skin on
Savitar's shoulder; he had promised to be gentle after all. “I’ll be gentle.”
Savitar whimpered in pain when Barry was so much brush the tip of his finger
against the sore entrance, his fingers digging into Barry’s skin.
Shit.
Guess the experimental alcohol did have a downside that needed to be reviewed
after all.
"Shh…Savitar," Barry hushed, voice muffled against Savitar's shoulder, which he
was sucking on gently, not enough to leave another mark. Then he slowly pushed
a finger inside his lover's hot body, hoping the water would serve as good
enough lube so that he wouldn't hurt Savitar too much.
“Love you,” Savitar whimpered out as he felt one of Barry’s fingers slide
carefully inside of him, and he tried to hide the wince the action caused,
focusing instead on the feeling of Barry’s mouth on his shoulder.
Savitar didn’t want to give Barry reason to stop what he was doing; his healing
was delayed, but that didn’t mean that he was some fragile porcelain doll that
needed to be handled with extra care. He could take the pain. And he just
wanted to feel Barry inside of him as soon as possible. Barry was being gentle
with him so far, something that Savitar really bask in—a rare occurrence as
opposed to the usual ruthless way the older man often opted to while
manhandling him. However, he couldn’t hold back a slight pained whine as Barry
added in another finger, his body not entirely ready for more yet, even though
his mind was.
Crap, maybe drunk wild sex wasn’t something he should try when the side-effect
was dysfunction of his healing.
Savitar pressed his lips against Barry’s in an attempt to distract and relax
himself further, ignoring the fingers moving inside of him for the moment. He
could take this. He was the God of Speed. He could handle a bit of pain.
Barry grimaced when he heard the pained whimper, feeling like he had pushed
Savitar too far. He had drunk less than the younger last night, hence, the
memory of manhandling Savitar was more vivid in his mind—the waves of pleasure
he gained from taking the lithe body with full intention to inflict pain, all
the while indulging in his sadistic side without caring that he had hurt the
younger speedster more than usual. Now that their healing isn’t as optimum as
it usually was, Barry was concerned as noises of pain kept spilling out
Savitar’s lips. He responded eagerly to his lover's kisses, moving the fingers
slowly in an attempt to lessen the pain. He considered for a moment—before
deciding to break the kiss and pulled his fingers out to coat them with the
lotion from the toiletries stand, maybe the added lubrication would make it
less uncomfortable.
"Sorry baby, I know it hurts," he whispered, sliding the fingers back in as
gently as he could while pushing his hips forward into Savitar’s, hoping to
distract the younger speedster from whatever unpleasant feelings he might be
having. It worked, for both of them; they both groaned and he managed to get a
third finger in seemingly without hurting him too badly.
Last night had been more about drunken lust and satisfying desires, this right
now was about making love. It wasn't supposed to be dirty or rough. They were
just married—things should change for crying out loud! Barry was determined to
proof that he was different, different than Savitar’s hateful Barry—the Barry
Allen from Savitar’s original Earth. He searched with his fingers for Savitar's
prostate, knowing he had found it when the younger’s back arched and Savitar
pushed back against his hand a little bit harder. His moan was one of pleasure
and pain though, so Barry kissed him reassuringly.
"Are you sure you are okay with this, baby?" Barry forced himself to ask, even
though he desperately wanted to be inside his lover. But Savitar was his top
priority now and, so instead he wrapped a hand around Savitar's dick, stroking
it meaningfully. "You don't have to do this for me...You could top me…,” he
swallowed, squaring his shoulders despite the tingling itch on his back. “I’d
manage…"
Savitar had to wait for his mind to clear a bit before he could piece together
a response, Barry’s vibrating hand on his dick was far too distracting,
especially combined with the fingers carefully stretching him. “I’m alright,”
he managed to blurt out, meeting his lover’s gaze, hoping to convey to the
other just how badly he wanted this right now.
Barry’s expression told him that he wasn’t being convincing at all.
“You don’t like being topped,” Savitar sighed, resting his forehead on Barry’s
shoulder. “I don’t want to trigger you—,” he wailed and trashed against the
wall—Barry has tentatively added light vibration against his prostate. “Want
you so much,” he panted, barely able to gather his shattered pieces back.
He wanted to feel Barry inside of him, wanted to feel that connection with him,
craving for it, needed it. They had had a rather rough night, followed by a
bloody start to their morning, and Savitar wanted something nice to happen that
would make today memorable.
It was the day of their wedding for crying out loud.
“Tell me,” Barry croaked out, carefully increasing the vibration of his fingers
around the throbbing flesh. “How you want to do it. What you want me to do.
Tell me, so that I didn’t hurt you.”
Savitar bit his lip to stop the whimper that threatened to spill from his
mouth.
Maybe a marriage wasn’t a good idea.
If Barry kept acting so sweet like this, Savitar didn’t know that he could
survive. He was weak when Barry got sweet and loving. It was his ultimate
weakness—bless the speedforce that Barry usually prefer to be ruthless and
rough with him and not sweet and loving.
Otherwise, Savitar would be so dead.
“Just give me a second,” Savitar said, his voice slightly strained, although
the pain was lessening, his body flooding with pleasure as Barry’s fingers
continually brushed against his prostate while the slender hand continued
stroking his dick—light vibrations accompanied each stroke and filled Savitar
with pleasure. “I love you,” he murmured again, nuzzling his nose into Barry’s
jaw line, placing tiny little kisses there once more. He gasped out suddenly as
Barry’s finger’s pressed against his prostate with a little more force than
before, the intense vibration had his back arching into a painful curve while
his sore body tightened involuntarily around his lover’s fingers. “Damn it,
Barry,” he moaned, burying his face in his lover’s neck, “Gotta hurry up, Barr,
or I’m gonna come!”
Even without touching himself, just seeing Savitar writhe under his touch,
hearing him asking for it... Barry was positive he was feeling exactly the same
amount of pleasure as his lover was right now, if not more. He swallowed hard
when Savitar's body clenched around his fingers, and quickly pulled the digits
out. "Okay baby, you have to turn around now,” Barry said apologetically,
almost wishing they had started this in bed so he didn't have to take Savitar
from behind again.
Savitar didn't seem entirely happy with the positioning, but he obviously
wanted it so he obliged to Barry's request. With careful movements Barry helped
him to turn around on the slippery shower floor; placing his hands over top of
Savitar's shaking hands on the cold wall.
"Savitar," Barry prompted, releasing one of his hands to put a finger
underneath the younger’s chin, urging him to turn his head towards him.
It wasn't a very good angle, awkward even, but he kissed Savitar anyway, a
little bit more demanding than before but still not taking any more than his
lover was willing to give. As their tongues danced together, he moved his other
hand down to his own dick, giving it a few strokes that made him moan into
Savitar's mouth before guiding it to his husband's prepared entrance. Savitar
broke away from his lips with another gasp when Barry slowly rubbed the head of
his cock over his entrance a few times. All the hot sensations were driving him
insane; he didn't think he would be able to control himself much longer.
"Try to relax, baby," Barry whispered, releasing his own erection and reaching
around to grip his lover's dick as he started to push inside carefully.
Savitar couldn’t repress the low moan that escaped from his mouth as Barry
slowly pushed himself inside of him, the elder’s hand moving over Savitar’s
dick to distract him from the pain. Savitar would love it if he was able to see
his lover’s face this time—Barry was always so calm and controlled, but he just
knew that the emotionless mask had dropped now—but they were kind of limited
with what they could do in here, so he tried to forget his annoyance, focusing
instead on the fact that he could feel Barry’s entire body pressed against his
back, almost no space between the two of them. Savitar pushed his hips
backwards, intending on having all of Barry inside of him, regardless of how
much it hurt him. He’ll get his healing back once his metabolism burnt the
remains of the alcohol away, he could handle a little pain now. The pain was
significantly less than he had been expecting however, the heat of the shower
and the way Barry was pressed against him relaxed his tensed muscles and making
him hungry for more. He tangled his fingers with Barry’s as the elder once
again brought one of his hands up to cover Savitar’s, a breathy whine sneaking
past his lips as Barry finally slid fully inside of him, the elder’s thumb
swiping over the head of his dick at the same time.
“Barry,” Savitar breathed out, his panting breaths seeming really loud, echoing
in the small space. Savitar turned his head slightly, searching out Barry’s
lips once more as he tried to adjust to the sensation of the hard vibrating
dick stretching his sore body.
Barry quickly answered Savitar's wordless request, leaning closer to kiss him
as he set a slow pace. Three years. It had been over three years he took
Savitar to his Earth, over three years since they started their twisted
narcissistic relationship. Barry was always in control—he was the Flash, the
leader of the Rogues, he ruled his cities with iron fist—and Savitar often
played the role of dangerously lethal arm candy for him. Despite of what
everyone had been thinking when they saw the way he and Savitar interacted,
Barry needed Savitar just as much as Savitar needed him. Sure, it seemed that
he was only using Savitar as a sexual outlet—with all those times people caught
him bending the younger speedster into half, only to leave Savitar used and
exhausted afterwards—it was a common agreement of his rogues that the Flash
didn’t care about Savitar, that the younger speedster was merely his arm candy
and a fucktoy.
But Barry really craved for Savitar’s love, even more than anyone could
imagine.
After all, the only person who wouldn’t betray him was his own self.
“Barry, Barry…Barry…,” Savitar murmured against the bathroom tiles, his hands
sliding up and down the wall as Barry gently took hold of his hips and adjusted
himself.
“Relax, honey,” Barry hushed, kissing Savitar’s neck softly. A low hiss slipped
past his lips, cursing Savitar, the younger’s entrance so incredibly rigid that
he has to fight to make his way in. “Savitar, baby, you’re so . . . tight,” he
murmured against the wet shoulder, letting his fingers roamed their way across
Savitar’s chest, his breath sounding deep and soft as he inhaled against the
time remnant’s hair.
“Barry—” Savitar groaned, voice hoarse as he leant into Barry’s touch, his body
trembled violently against the older speedster.
Barry figured that he has the right position now, his hips moving ever so
slowly, his hands moving up to hold onto Savitar’s shoulders.
“I need you, Savitar,” Barry murmured, the pleasure filling him up as they
moved gently together, “…need you so much—”
Savitar cried out against the white tiles, back arched as Barry thrust into
that spot again, tempting moans after moans spilling out from him. He pressed
his temple to the tiles, allowing Barry the angle to kiss him. There was no way
for them to kiss properly in this kind of position, but they needed the
connection. They parted when their neck grew sore from the awkward angle, and
Savitar was back whimpering to the wall. The friction gained on Barry, sweeping
over his sensitive flesh in slow torturous slide, his lips smothered Savitar’s
back with kisses.
“Barry . . . honey,” Savitar breathed sharply, his skin so soft and hot
underneath Barry. “Faster . . . faster . . . come on, please... I can take it.
I’m not weak…”
Barry sighed and pushed in deeper, increasing his vibrations gradually as he
aimed for that one spot he knew will make the younger man screamed his name in
all its glory... “I know, baby, I know,” he soothed as Savitar got impatient,
and he changed his angle, obliging Savitar’s request and picked up the speed,
thrusting in and out the tight heat, hands holding the squirming hips still
that it almost left bruises with the force he was using but neither cared about
the minor little details.
“Barry, come on—” Savitar was speaking through gritted teeth now, and Barry
pushed in again . . . faster…then harder, each time trying to maximize the
strength he gave to his younger lover...
When Savitar tilted his head to stare pleadingly at him, Barry leant in for a
kiss.
"Savitar... I need you baby. I don't think I can last long...," Barry hummed
against Savitar’s lips, his grip on reality was starting to loosen as he moved
in and out of his lover's body, speeding up a bit. “Fuck, I don’t want to last
long,” he whimpered, pressing his lips desperately to Savitar’s panting ones.
His surroundings were fading away; he focused only on the warmth of his body
pressed against Savitar's, the twitching muscles surrounding his erection. Most
of all, he focused on Savitar's lips, into which he was currently trying to
pour out all his love, make the younger understand how much he cared about him,
despite all of the mistreatment he inflicted on the younger. He cared. He did
care. Savitar understood him and always so eager to please him.
He just wasn’t used to express love. Not after the hell he had gone through.
"Savi-tar, I love you so much, I can't even... express how much I can't live
without you...," he choked out—his throat tightened as the words left
him—squeezing his eyes shut as he felt himself balancing on the edge, stomach
muscles tensing as he got closer to his completion.
It was rare for him to let go this early, but it was rare for him to let his
emotions mingled into sex, so he thought that this was properly justified. He
moved his hand a little bit faster on Savitar's dick, trying to push the
younger towards the edge as well, and squeezed the fingers tangled together
with his own, lips searching for Savitar’s own.
Savitar could feel his lover’s desperation, could feel Barry’s emotions as he
kissed him back, rendering him absolutely speechless, and he could feel tears
pricking at the corners of his eyes. It was always overwhelming for Savitar
when Barry got like this, telling him how much he loved him, how much he needed
him, and not just with words either, his actions only proving his point
further. Barry never expressed love—he was too hurt to say that magic word—but
when he did, the word was genuine. There were no barriers between them, not
now—there was no one to take advantage of Barry’s moment of weaknesses—they
were alone here, far from their rogues. He squeezed Barry’s fingers back, his
moans rising in volume as the speed of the other’s thrusts and the hand moving
on his dick increased—Barry’s hips were blurring, fast yet so gentle as he
pound into Savitar, brushing the bundle of nerves inside him with strong
powerful vibration with each thrust. Barry obviously was getting close to the
end, wanting to push Savitar over as well.
“I know,” Savitar managed to breath out, his breath hitching as the movements
of Barry’s hips turned erratic, faltering in their rhythm, vibrating without
control, “I love you too, Barr…need you so much,” he murmured, leaning forward
to press a kiss to his lover’s fingers that were still tangled with his own.
Savitar could feel his release starting to pool in his stomach, the warm
tingling spreading throughout his limbs. He couldn’t hold back any longer, and
his eyes squeezed shut as he suddenly orgasmed, his release spattering the
shower wall and Barry’s hand, tears finally escaping and rolling down his
cheeks, unable to hold them back any longer. “Barry!” he mewled, leaning his
forehead against the cool wall in front of him, trying to regain his breath.
Savitar's body spasmed around him, and his hot cum shot into his hand, causing
Barry to moan loudly, pressing his lips to the back of Savitar's neck to muffle
the sound. When his name fell from his husband's lips, Barry couldn't control
himself anymore, and with one last powerful thrust he buried himself deep
inside Savitar before releasing his load into his lover.
"Sa-savitar!" He groaned, clutching at the hand in his own as he rode out his
orgasm, his blurring hips slowed to a languid pace as waves of pleasure washed
through their joined bodies.
They stood like that for a few moments, catching their breath, and just holding
on to the moment, feel that connection with each other for as long as possible.
It didn't last long though, Savitar wiggled uncomfortably, so Barry stepped
back, wincing as his overly sensitive dick slid out of the younger speedster’s
body. "You’re wonderful, babe," he sighed one last time, and gently turned the
time remnant around again to kiss him properly—his lips lazily kissing the
younger’s jaw, neck and collarbone, leaving his mark everywhere, sweat and
cooling water ran down his own forehead to plaster his hair to his skin as he
claimed Savitar in a sweet kiss, letting the time remnant took the reign and
dominated him. Barry parted his lips willingly, letting Savitar to take charge,
allowing himself to be kissed breathless before they slowed down, Barry fiddled
with the tap as they kissed languidly, making the water heat up again.
"I'm gonna wash your hair now, kay?" Barry trailed his lips down Savitar's neck
once, and then lifted the hand with Savitar's cum on it to his lips, making
sure the younger was watching before licking it up. After, he stepped back to
smirk a bit at him while reaching for the shampoo bottle. "I didn't hurt you
too much, did I?"
Savitar could only stare wide-eyed at his lover as he cleaned his hand off with
his tongue, and he could feel his face flushing once more. Damn Barry and his
super talented tongue. It took him a second to realize that his lover had asked
him a question, and he shook his head as he watched Barry squeezed some of the
shampoo out onto his palm.
“No…” he mumbled when Barry stopped to stare at him, the elder fighting to keep
his amusement off his face, and not really succeeding at it either. Savitar
shook his head again, in an attempt to clear it, still feeling a little bit
lost and sluggish after his powerful orgasm. “I feel just fine,” he stated
again, and Barry raised one eyebrow, obviously not believing Savitar. “I’m
serious! Don’t look at me like that, I’m not weak!” Savitar was dangerously
close to stomping his foot, but he thankfully managed to catch himself before
he did, crossing his arms over his chest and huffing angrily instead.
Barry was right not to believe Savitar though, as Savitar was in a considerable
amount of pain now, the warm afterglow already starting to wear off, leaving
aches and pains in its wake. He didn’t want to tell Barry though, didn’t want
to appear weak. Savitar had agreed after all, so he would just going to suck it
up until his healing kicked in and healed him properly again.
But it still hurt like a bitch, though.
Savitar wanted to just lie down and sleep right now.
“Weren’t you going to wash my hair?” Savitar asked, attempting to change the
subject, carefully shifting a little closer to his lover.
"Of course, princess," Barry laughed, rubbing the shampoo between his wet palms
a few times before beckoning Savitar to move a little bit closer. He was plenty
close enough, but Barry wasn't about to admit that. The other just glared at
him, unimpressed with being called a princess, so Barry stepped closer; there
wasn't that much space in the shower anyways. "Come on, don't act like a child,
I was just joking, dear. You’re still my dangerously lethal husband," Barry
rolled his eyes, speaking with a slightly condescending tone.
Before Savitar could get truly mad with him he reached up and gently ran his
soapy fingers through the drenched brown hair, massaging Savitar’s scalp with
skilled movements. Savitar moaned at the touch and Barry smiled happily at the
blissful sound. They rarely did this. Intimate interactions weren’t an option
when their rule was still new and green—with enemies still lurking out there
looking for their weaknesses. One day, once his rogues have solidified as a
prominent power, Barry would make this moments more often. He actually loved
spoiling Savitar, loved pleasing the younger speedster, although he often
masked it with playful tease and exasperated lecture. The few times he actually
had the chance to wash his lover’s hair was enough for him to remember what
motions relaxed Savitar, and made the younger speedster melted under his touch.
Though, the sound of the horrified screams outside the door shattered their
peaceful moment, and Barry sighed, only having Savitar in his eyes now.
"Ignore it," Barry murmured when Savitar scowled at the noise.
Barry held Savitar in place with one slippery hand, not wanting this moment to
end because it was rather obvious that Savitar was about to flash out and get
rid of the now increasingly loud screaming. He continued washing Savitar's
hair, something he found that he really did love doing. For some reason, doing
this made him feel really close to his now husband. Just as he leant closer and
let his lips brush against Savitar's, they heard a crash, cold mist seeped
through the crack of the bathroom door, frost started to coat the walls and
turned their shower ice cold as Killer Frost’s angry voice thundered just
outside the door.
“BARTHOLEMEW HENRY ALLEN! HOW DARE YOU STEAL MY RESEARCH!!”
Barry paused and stared at Savitar with slightly wide eyes. Killer Frost did
not sound happy.
Then, there was banging right on the fragile door of the bathroom door.
“BARRY ALLEN, YOU COME OUT RIGHT NOW AND EXPLAIN TO ME WHY THE VIDEO OF YOU
GETTING DRUNK-MARRIED IN VEGAS IS GOING VIRAL NOW!!!”
Savitar ducked underneath the cold spray of water to rinse his hair, before
returning to his previous spot, shivering hands rested over Barry’s chest. He
was smiling lazily, fingers circling round the buds of Barry’s nipples before
leaning in to plant a gentle kiss on Barry’s lips. He patted Barry’s chest when
the older speedster winced upon another bang on the door.
“I’m not going to bail you out, Barry.”
Barry let out an insufferable sigh, although the smile was there on his face
when he swooped in for another kiss. He broke the kiss when Savitar started
whimpering, lips dragging over the shaky ones as he whispered;
“To be honest, I wasn’t even surprised you said that.”
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