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Chapter Text

If Barry had to deliver Thawne’s lunch late that was his business.

The killer should be grateful Barry hadn’t left him to starve, instead of bitching about when his meal arrived. While some part of him could agree that being so late the blond essentially missed lunch might have been a bit... insensitive, it was certainly better than what he deserved. Barry at least had the decency to feed the man three times a day. Thawne should be grateful for that, too. Thawne could probably survive just as well on one meal, given the sudden decrease in the amount of calories he was burning, and the fact his lack of speed meant that he no longer had to eat his weight in Big Belly Burger a day. But the Reverse Flash seemed to have other ideas, if the way he acted when Barry was an hour or two behind schedule was any indication. On those days, his nemesis would throw an absolute raging fit. At first it had been almost satisfying to see his mother’s murderer reduced to some frothing animal pacing in a cell, or throwing a tantrum like a petulant toddler, but the behaviour had quickly become annoying much like everything else about caring for the other man. 

So when Barry delivered lunch at the same time he usually delivered dinner, the silence that greeted him immediately put him on edge. Barry began to feel like he was walking into a trap as he approached the cell. It was too quiet. He couldn’t even see Thawne properly, only the vague outline of his form where he was sprawled across the floor of the cage.

These past few days, Reverse Flash had been a different kind of restless and knowing that was no comfort given the man’s sudden stillness. Gone was Thawne's usual performance, one that more often than not involved shouting, banging on the cell bars, and an excessive amount of hand gestures. Now, the only sign proving Eobard hadn’t finally died was the rage quietly simmering in the other's eyes.

“For the fastest man alive,” the Reverse shifted slightly, so he could get a better view of his captor, “You’re awfully bad at keeping your appointments, Flash. But then again,” Thawne huffed out a laugh, “I can’t really call you that anymore, not with the way you’ve been acting!”  

The man went still again; a motion-activated animatronic, disjointed from his movements. Something in his tone made the hair on the back of Barry's neck stand up. While that was not an uncommon occurrence when talking with Eobard Thawne, this time was for an unfamiliar reason. This time, the voice felt empty against his ears; it lacked malice, or commitment. There was definitely emotion bubbling in the man, that was for sure, but it was almost as if he’d forgotten how to convey it. Like he was acting on the memory of an emotion long since burnt out.

For a moment, Barry let himself wonder if Thawne had finally broken from his time in the cage. The idea was appealing,  if only for the possibility that Eobard would finally stop trying to break his wrist every time he pushed the bag of food into the cell. But he was as stubborn as a mule and was just as likely to give in as Barry was to let him go. So the idea remained a fantasy, tucked neatly away in the back of Barry’s mind. 

“You should watch that tone, Thawne,” Barry threatened. The Reverse’s lethargy was unnerving him. “Keep up the attitude and I might just decide to stop feeding you altogether.”

Eobard huffed, and looked back up at the ceiling, “Ah, but you wouldn’t do that.”

Tiredly, the blond man closed his eyes and gave a half-hearted, dismissive gesture that made Barry feel oddly scorned; like he wasn’t worth the brainpower to think of anything new.

“You’re the hero...”

Again, there was no bite to the other’s words. Scowling, Barry let curiosity get the better of him.

“What’s with you today? Aren’t you supposed to be trying to convince me that I’m a horrible person? Don’t get me wrong, the change is refreshing - but I really don’t like the idea of you dying in there, believe it or not.”

Eobard let out a bark of laughter, “I guess it would be a mighty inconvenience to you - the great and powerful Flash - if you had to drag my lifeless corpse out in a fucking body bag. Where would you even put it?” Eobard turned back to him then, something almost like mischief glittering in his blue eyes. Was Thawne... joking with him? “Would you throw my body into the river and let the fish have a snack? Or maybe you’d want to go with something sexier like dismembering me before stuffing the bits into an old refrigerator horror movie style? Better yet; you’d keep me around in your basement, just let the body rot for a bit in a plastic bag before burying me in the woods. Your pathetic career in forensics might as well be good for something, after all.”

“Are you- Are you making jokes?”

Instead of responding, Eobard’s lips pulled back to reveal white teeth in some vicious mockery of a smile.

“There’s something seriously wrong with you,” Barry began to strut up to the cell, intending to wrangle his nemesis to the floor so he could check his temperature, “If you’re calling your own death sexy. And while I’m painfully aware you’ve convinced yourself you’re in the right here, have you ever stopped to consider that you’re just batshit crazy? This entire show here has pretty much been all the evidence you need to prove it.”  

“Barry, darling," dragging out the last word, the blond rolled onto his stomach, kicking his legs into the air and resting his chin on his hands. The whole time looking positively delighted that he’d gotten a reaction out of Barry, “We’ve both known that I’m not completely sane since before we started this whole bullshit rivalry. My mental state is - after all - entirely your fault.”

Barry only glanced up at that, knowing better than to trust Eobard. Instead, he put down the bag of food and busied himself by rummaging around for the keys in his pockets.

Thawne seemed oblivious to his actions and kept on rambling, “But, if you had to make me pick something different about today, it’d be your lip.”

That brought Barry to a halt.

“My what?!” He crooked an eyebrow, incredulous and shocked in equal measure.

“Your lip,” he repeated, as if commenting on the weather, “It’s been split. Got me thinking.”

A strange look overcame the Reverse’s features and Thawne moved to lie back down.

Instinctively, Barry’s fingers snapped up to touch the cut on his bottom lip, nails brushing against the stinging flesh carefully. He’d nearly bitten through it earlier at Jitter’s while trying to work up the courage to ask Iris out on a date. As he made the motion, Thawne’s eyes jumped to follow it, his face lighting up in a way Barry hadn’t seen since the night he captured the murderer. A hungry gaze watched the digit with a predatory manner, and Barry suddenly wanted to run very, very far away from the whole bizarre interaction.

“Creep.”

He hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Gingerly, he palmed the keys in his pocket, taking a moment to steady himself before carrying on with the conversation. His pride forbid him from retreating now - especially considering he was the one holding the power. Thawne was his captive now, not his Reverse. Looking up again, Barry tried to figure out Eobard’s stupidly pleased expression, which had begun to ebb into an almost dreamy look.

“You better not be fantasizing about hitting me in the face up there. I might just take offence to it.”

“Hmm?”

Thawne met Barry’s gaze from where he lay on the floor of the cage, processing for a moment. Once again Barry was hit with the concern that Eobard was coming down with something.

“No, no. I wasn’t thinking of that. You’re not far off though, guess I’ve got to give you some credit there. It’s actually the... opposite that’s being distracting.”

The look in the Reverse’s eyes told Barry that this was some kind of game, a test, maybe. He was looking for a way to make a fool of Barry, and Barry - still furious that his chance with Iris had once again been thwarted by his own lack of confidence - was desperately looking to shut up Thawne for a bit. Figuring out whatever the hell the answer was would probably do the trick.

The brunet took a moment to buffer, aimlessly picking the bag of food off the floor as his thoughts scrambled to put meaning to the other’s words. Barry carded a hand through his hair, thinking. What was the opposite of hitting someone in the face?

“Kicking me in the shin?” 

A decidedly breathy laugh came from the prisoner, “Wrong again, Flash!” Lurching to his feet - standing for the first time in the whole encounter - Thawne continued, gloating, “Future you would have gotten it by now. But then again...” Eagerly, the blond leaned forward to grab the bars of the cage, something wild in his expression, “He wasn’t as big an idiot; he knew how to give me what I want .”

 “Well maybe if you weren’t such a cryptic bastard I’d have better luck with it! And I thought you weren’t calling me that,” Barry snapped.

With a shit-eating grin, Eobard asked, “Calling you what?”

At that, Barry whipped around, snarling in an animalistic way, fury burning in his lungs. Thawne had been riling him up the entire time, and on top of that he’d had a shit day after he’d unsuccessfully tried to ask Iris out on a date, not to mention the whole Wally-is-risking-his-goddamn-life-while-I-just-stand-on-the-sidelines-and-mope thing, so he was more than a little pissed. Who better to take it out on than his nemesis.

“I should just leave you to starve, you son of a bitch. Or maybe I’ll just stop visiting you - even that’s a gift on my part. Do you know what happens to the human psyche in solitary confinement? It’s not pretty. It wouldn’t even take much effort to barge in there and start pulling teeth, let’s see you keep running that goddamn mouth of yours without molars! And... ” He made an overdramatic, sweeping gesture with the keys, still tightly clutched in his fist, as he searched for words. Thawne just kept looking obscenely delighted, vaguely shifting his hips as Barry ranted, which wasn’t doing anything to improve the Flash’s mood. In a low threat he finished, “And at any time I could easily just drag you out of that filthy cage by your hair and just beat you to a bloody pulp.”

Looking up, checking for a reaction, or maybe to investigate the soft moan that had just come from the cage, Barry nearly choked at what he saw.

Eobard had, apparently, decided to take up pole dancing, an ambition only impaired by the lack of any kind of pole outside of the cage bar which was now crammed snuggly against his crotch. One distracting thigh had been pressed through the bars, making it easier for the yellow-clad man to flex against the metal, and his breath was coming out in short, heaving pants that shook the man’s frame. This, when paired with the hooded eyes and wet, half-open mouth currently plastered over his nemesis’s flushing face was a level of erotic Barry had never wanted to see on the other man. Until now, something in him crooned, traitorously. All thoughts of hatred and rage had left him for the moment.

His expression must’ve been incredibly amusing - Barry momentarily pictured his eyes popping while he attempted to splutter out some kind of response to the scene before him - because Thawne shook his head and laughed. This time the brunet could feel the rush of blood colouring his cheeks. With a soft hum, the blonde pressed his face against the bars, giving the bar between his legs a slow, filthy grind in time with the motion. Blues eyes burned, wild and alive in a way that should have terrified Barry.

Yet he couldn’t pull his gaze away.

Still pressed against the cage, Eobard seemed to take notice of the Flash’s mesmerization, and reached his arms up, letting blackened fingers hook against the cage door. There, he anchored himself and roughly pushed his chest flush against the bars, moaning once. It was enough. Shoving his fist into his mouth, Barry bit down on his knuckles, desperately swallowing down a whimper. He chose to ignore the way the blond purred at the sight. In his pocket, shaking fingers clenched hard into the biting teeth of his keys, seeking something to ground him. Barry’s tongue felt dry.

He was cursing himself internally, brain scrambling to find the reasons detailing why this wrong in every sense of the word, and answers that would’ve come so easily minutes ago were now impossible to grasp. Finally, answers bobbed up through the haze, and though they seemed like meee figments compared to the beast before him, they were something. First and foremost there was Iris, the love of his life, and his mother - dear god what would she think of him, getting hard for her would-be murderer. Not to mention any scrap of human decency he had left, which should have rendered this entire scene revolting. Yet it wasn’t enough. Despite it all he’d become Thawne’s captive audience. And the murderer was taking full advantage of it.

Prying one hand off the top of the cage door, Thawne eased his gloved fingers down his chest, gently taking the zipper of his suit with them. With a languid, borderline delicate pace, a strip of heated skin was revealed. The motion finished with a flourish: one harsh, final thrust of his bulging crotch against the cage, before the freed hand greedily palmed Thawne’s erection. A moan came not a second later, and it seemed neither man could tell if it belonged to Barry or to the caged slut.

“Say it again,” Thawne purred, eyes sliding shut as he punctuated the sentence with a roll of his hips. Barry could see where his chest muscles rippled as he did so.

“W-What?”

 “Say it again,” demanding this time. “Tell me what a fucking monster I am. Tell me what you’re going to do to me.”

His blue eyes were vivid, and with his forehead pressed against the wall, the blond hair fell into the man's face, adding to the debauched nature of his posture. His right thigh, still loyally clamped around the pole, was now forced out even further, until leather-clad hips could press against the metal, and his hand-covered crotch could press between one of the cell’s openings.

Barry took a step back, swallowed thickly, and immediately began looking for an exit strategy. His brain was shorting out, and he knew he was ridiculously out of his depth. Whatever Thawne was trying to pull was thoroughly freaking him out, and he was still reeling at the fact the older man had - apparently - not been fearing an attack from Barry, but wanting it instead. The panicked state of the Flash seemed to sober Eobard up a bit. Cursing under his breath, Thawne pulled his remaining leg through an available gap before dropping to the floor, legs dangling over the sides of the raised platform. This reduced both the height difference between the two men and the amount of presence the Reverse Flash held over Barry. In short, he made himself less threatening, and Barry didn’t want to know why.

“You’re an idiot,” Thawne breathed. “Come here.”

He wanted to say no, honestly. He wanted to turn around and run far, far away from this godforsaken warehouse. He wanted to do a hundred different things right now and none of them were ‘listen to Eobard Thawne, serial killer’. But when his nemesis made an impatient noise followed by a beckoning motion, Barry found himself drifting over to the man anyway. While his mind had no interest in doing anything Thawne thought was a good idea, his dick remained stubbornly curious after the blond’s previous performance. As he moved forward, Eobard made a satisfied noise, and haphazardly shrugged off the top portion of his suit, fully exposing the toned lines of his chest.

Numerous scars were now highlighted in the harsh light, most of which - given Thawne was a speedster - shouldn't even exist. The worst ones were the rows upon rows of deep, vicious lines running parallel to his ribs, stark and pink and puckered against tanned skin. But that wasn't what really caught Barry's attention. No, what both terrified and aroused Barry was the great, sweat-slick lightning bolt seared into the flesh above Thawne's heart, haloed by an all too deliberate circle. It was the Flash emblem. His emblem. Barry swallowed around the lump in his throat, not sure how to interpret the feelings bubbling in him. The abandoned bag of food, still perched on one of the warehouse’s large wire rolls, was only duly noted as Barry passed by it, hypnotized by the display Eobard was making with his slow, relaxed movements, flexing muscles, and pale scars.

About a foot away from Thawne, he stopped. Barry just… stood there for a few tense moments that hung thick in the air like mayflies. Green eyes met blue, both calculating and being calculated in equal measure. Almost cautiously, as if not to spook him again, one now-ungloved hand came to brush gingerly against Barry’s bitten bottom lip. They hovered there, and Eobard measured his reaction, before tugging the lip between his forefinger and thumb with a newfound confidence. His hand was hot against Barry’s face, and the calloused fingers brought a whole new level of reality to the otherwise surreal interaction.

In some warped attempt at tenderness, the thumb began to run slowly back and forth across his lip, increasing in fervour each time until Barry, who had started leaning into the pressure, let out a soft whimper as the skin caught against the nearly-healed scab. His accelerated healing hadn’t been working as well as it should have lately. The thought was quickly dismissed as Thawne, instead of simply lessening the pace as his latest mood had led Barry to believe he would, dug his nail into the bruising flesh instead, drawing a cry from the hero. Thawne groaned and aggressively palmed his clothed member.

It shattered the illusion. Barry attempted to jerk back, to move away from the manipulative man who was so clearly trying to lure him into a false sense of security, but was quickly stopped. A jerking motion in the corner of his vision was the only warning he got as the hand previously occupied with Barry's now-bruised lip lunged forward to bury itself in his hair and pull him against the other’s shins with no small amount of force. Cursing his lust-addled brain for not responding any faster, Barry tried to ignore the feeling of heated breath against his face.

“I didn’t say you could go, Allen.”

“You’re the one in the cage, Thawne.”

Irritably, Barry tugged against the hand in his hair, not quite desperate enough to resort to vibrating through the grip. He still hadn’t completely recovered all his speed from his initial run to the warehouse.

Eobard huffed quietly, changing tactics. Purring again, soft and low, he whispered: “You want this.”

He did. But he wasn’t about to tell Eobard that. Thawne tried again, “You know, future you wasn’t nearly this stupid,” the other’s free hand came up to drag its fingertips along Barry’s cheekbone, “Knew what I wanted, what he wanted.”

The brunet didn’t react, instead opting to retort, “You said that already.”

An indifferent hum came from the dark speedster. “Barry, what’s important right now isn’t what I want or what I'm doing. It’s what you need; what you don’t know you need.” The man in question only rolled his eyes, “I know, I know. You’re not normally the one in the spotlight. We both know it’s usually mine, and that I don’t share - but - I’m willing to make an exception just this once. And only because your idiocy is frustrating me in more ways than one.” The statement finished with a growl, as Barry’s face was forced ever closer to the bars, too close for comfort. He thought of ramming his keys into Thawne’s jaw. Or taking the Swiss Army knife in his back pocket and pushing it through one blue eye.

“Let go of me.” 

Rather than respond to the Flash’s demand, the hand not currently holding Barry hostage hooked around his wrist, leading it up and up and up until it was brought to rest high on one of Thawne’s thighs, so that his fingertips brushed the junction between leg and hip. His breath hitched. The rational part of him screamed about murder and knives and premeditated crimes. Everything else in him was too busy worshiping the feeling of rough fabric over taut muscle, the slight give of the flesh beneath his palm, the slide of slick skin over leather, the soft noises his nemesis made when Barry’s left hand moved to investigate the remaining thigh. He let his fingers roam and curl across the man in front of him. Skimming the hated suit and nudging at the crinkled layer of fabric ended and revealed flesh began. Barry didn’t dare to let his touch go any higher. Not for now, at least. Absentmindedly, he gazed up at the other in some kind of dazed awe, searching for an answer without knowing what he was asking.

“You need this.” 

He did. And the tightness of his jeans agreed with him, so Barry let his roaming hands reach around to grip Thawne’s tight ass and squeeze with a sudden vindication. It earned him a shuddering moan, which gradually dissolved into a pleased laugh as Eobard realized he’d been successful in his efforts; Barry Allen was now undeniably interested in bending him over and fucking him. 

“Come into the cage, Barry.” It was said in the same purr as most of Thawne’s previous statements.

Only now did Barry realize that it was supposed to ease the edges off of the other’s voice and make him feel safe. This epiphany struck him with a sudden wave of doubt, but he thought of his Swiss Army knife. He thought of Eobard’s weakened state due to his captivity. He thought of Thawne’s malnourishment from eating nothing but rations. He thought of all the reasons that, if he ended up needing to fight his way out, he’d have an advantage.

Barry went into the cage.

Chapter Text

The steel door clanked shut with a startling finality. Barry never once let his eyes leave Thawne. Though he probably couldn’t have looked away if he tried. Blond hair - already messy due to the other’s captivity - was now spilling into his face, sweat-soaked tufts obscuring icy blue eyes. Eobard looked like he wanted to eat Barry alive.

He was strangely okay with that.

Slowly, as his initial apprehension had yet to leave him entirely, Barry padded over to the other man, and his Reverse moved to meet him halfway. They were barely inches apart when Barry froze, breath hitching, suddenly able to see the full extent of Eobard’s scars. The gashes were worse than he’d initially believed. Barry’s assessment of his brand - the flash emblem - had been fairly accurate. Whatever had caused it must’ve hurt like a bitch. But what he hadn’t seen before was the pair of white marks haloing his wrists and the faint scars dotting the base of Eobard’s neck and shoulders. If the brand was any indication, he had likely been the cause of every mark on Thawne’s body. He didn’t know how to feel about that.

Barry swallowed thickly, out of nerves or arousal he didn’t know. He allowed his eyes to float away from the other’s torso and up to the blue eyes waiting for him. Eobard looked a bit irritated, but not worryingly so. Barry couldn’t have been staring for too long. He was grateful that his reverse was letting him go at his own pace, and he wondered if Thawne had learnt that Barry couldn’t be rushed into this from his previous mistakes.

“Like what you see?”

Barry could hear the smirk but gave a shaky nod anyway. In response, Thawne grabbed his wrists and deliberately placed Barry’s hands on his chest, mirroring the tactic he’d used early to get Barry to feel up his thighs. Barry flushed at the memory but took the opportunity to sneak further into Eobard’s space anyway. Curling into the broad chest before him, Barry let his shaking palms snake along the sweat-slick skin. One came to rest over Thawne’s heart and in turn, over his emblem. The other looped around Eobard’s lower back, hooking fingers around the back of a bare hip bone. A beat, and then Eobard turned to meet his gaze. Their faces were bare inches apart and their gentle exhales mixed in the chilled air.  His breathing slowed. Their noses brushed. And-

It was in a rush of motion that Barry found his tongue stuffing itself between two sets of unyielding teeth. Moaning into Eobard’s mouth and sinking his fingers into golden hair, he ground against a still-clothed crotch, trying to jump-start the other’s reaction. Something like pride bubbled up in Barry’s chest at the notion that he was able to shock the blond into stillness. But he only had a moment before Thawne caught up. Eobard began to kiss back in earnest now, opening his mouth to give the invading tongue more room. Barry took every inch he was given, greedily filling the space emptied for him. He slipped over Eobard’s own tongue, ghosting over the sides of his cheeks. On impulse, he gave the hair between his fingers a harsh yank. The response was immediate.

Thawne grabbed Barry's hips hard enough to bruise before using the leverage to buck roughly against the other speedster, breaking the kiss so he could moan into the open. Whining, Barry began to hump against Eobard’s crotch and the latter was all too eager to return the favour. A filthy grind began, and the glinting of saliva caught Barry’s eye; a string of spit connect their mouths, evidence of their debauchery. Barry felt his erection jump. Meeting those half-lidded eyes, part of Barry was still reeling from the unexpected reaction Eobard had given him. The other part of him was very pleased that Thawne had done just as Barry hoped he would.

He didn’t let himself dwell on it. Instead, Barry surged forward, going in for another kiss. Their teeth clacked together again, but Barry was on a mission, and he clutched hard at the small of Eobard’s back as he pressed the other man closer. Mewling as he kissed, Barry raided the mouth given to him as his partner leaned into his grip, all too content to be used for the brunette’s pleasure. Barry’s tongue spilled into the warm, wet space. He let it slip down the row of teeth it found there. Only Eobard’s teeth came to abrupt end. Eobard was missing a molar. He yanked back out of sheer confusion, breaking the kiss.

“Wha..?”

“What’s wrong?”

Eobard’s brow furrowed. He looked dejected, concerned, confused. Barry felt a bit bad about that, but his curiosity had been piqued, so that wasn’t his priority. Not right now, anyway.

“What happened to your tooth!?”

“Oh,” Eobard leaned forward, huffing a laugh into Barry’s throat, “I was wondering if you’d notice that.”

Nuzzling at the base of Barry’s neck, Eobard slowly, but not necessarily gently, coaxed the both of them down to the ground, so that they were lying together, the blond pinning Barry to the ground, face still pressed against Barry’s shoulder.

“That was you. You pulled it out.” Barry didn’t understand. “You used pliers,” Thawne moaned, easing one of Barry’s thighs between his own. “Said it’d been a bad day and you needed to blow off steam. Take it out on someone,” Barry was quickly feeling overwhelmed, and the sound of Eobard’s low pants filled his senses in between words, “I thought you meant sex. So, of course, I agreed,” Eobard switched to a heated growl now, “I was wrong. Even with my speed, you were always so much faster than me. We were on the floor before I knew what was going on. And I tasted the metal before I saw the tool. And-“ Eobard whimpered into Barry’s ear, and the blond began to thrust wildly at Barry’s thigh, “I was scared, I was so fucking scared. Was bucking so hard to get you off… But you were too big. Too strong. Couldn’t - fuck, Flash - Didn’t know what was going on,” a bark of laughter, breathy and light, “But god, was I ever turned on. Next thing I know there’s the scrape of metal against my teeth and blood is filling my mouth and I'm choking and everything just really fucking hurts.” One particularly harsh thrust had Barry’s ass knocking the floor with some force, he yelped in response. Eobard just kept on rambling, too caught up in the story or too aroused to care, “Think I passed out. Woke up in your bed. Dried cum in my pants and mouth tasting of copper. You weren’t there.” He sounded bitter at the end. Barry blinked at that, his lips pressed together, but didn’t get the chance to say anything because-

Teeth sunk into Barry’s neck. Hard. There had been no warning and he felt the skin break under unrelenting force. Screaming, he bucked viciously at one of Eobard’s legs. But in contrast, the other’s movements slowed to a standstill. Barry whined, nudging at the older man with his hips, desperately trying to stir him back into motion. Guilt was gnawing at Barry’s stomach but he didn’t fucking care right now. He was so achingly hard and Eobard should be moving. Why wasn’t he moving?

The weight above Barry shifted and blue eyes met green.

“Strip,” Eobard snarled.

Barry wasted no time in doing so, pulling off his top as Eobard leaned back, both to take off the bottom half of his suit and to give Barry the space necessary to undress. Barry really regretted wearing a belt right now. In his arousal, he could barely figure out how to unclasp it. Thawne was his saving grace. Batting his hand away, Eobard pried open the belt buckle, tugging it and his jeans off in one swift motion. The younger man only sat back and waited for Eobard to be done, letting his hands curl over bare shoulders as he basked in the nakedness of his partner. Eobard came to an abrupt halt, hovering over Barry’s clothed crotch, expression twisted into something like rage. But then, as suddenly as he had stopped, Thawne lurched into motion again.

Quite literally ripping off Barry’s underpants - his last layer of clothing - Eobard quickly seized the member that had been freed. Two hard tugs had Barry writhing on the cell floor but the best was yet to come. The blond sank down onto Barry’s cock bracing himself on the brunette’s upper thighs as he sucked. One hand squeezed his base rhythmically as Barry mewled in time.

His hot cavity felt like liquid velvet against Barry's sensitive skin and Eobard’s slick tongue lapped at the very top of Barry's dick before the older man threw himself back down again. Every other dip, Eobard’s tongue would escape from between his lips and suck at his balls, each time Barry had to fight down the urge to hold Eobard in place and fuck his face off. It took everything in him to convince himself Thawne wouldn’t like it.

Shaking fingers found Eobard’s head, knotting themselves into the golden hair there. He gave an experimental yank, just to see how Thawne reacted, and he was rewarded with the feeling of Eobard moaning around his dick. Swearing vividly, he began tugging periodically. A quiet sense of pride settled in his chest as he felt the other’s grip tighten.

Barry never wanted this to end. Eobard was palming his hips as he gave Barry the best blowjob he’d ever received in his life. It was surreal. Being spread wide, hot and wet for his archenemy had never been one of his fantasies. But right now? He would kill to stay in this moment for the rest of his life, which was why he had to choke back a sob when he felt his balls tightening.

“Eo - ahh - Eobard I’m gonna…” And Eobard pulled off Barry’s dick before he had even gotten a chance to finish. His fingers clamped down around the base of Barry’s member, acting as an impromptu cock ring. Gasping, Barry snapped; “What the fuck, Thawne?”

It was Barry's turn to sound bitter. He only barely fought down the impulse to hit the other man. Force of habit, he told himself. He was used to fighting the man, not fucking him.

A low chuckle greeted his heated gaze. “We’ve barely gotten started, Barry. I’m not letting you go that easy.” Barry just huffed at him. He had a point, though, but the Flash was still unsure about how far he wanted to go with this. A minute elapsed in comfortable silence as Barry’s breathing began to even out, slowly but surely. And then, “Bet Iris West never blew you like that.”

This time, Barry did hit Thawne. Which only made the blond laugh around his split lip. It didn’t serve to improve Barry’s mood.

“You don’t get to talk about her,” he hissed, lurching up, “You don’t ever get to talk about her.”

“Bite me.”

Barry suspected Eobard was being dead serious about that request, but he really didn’t feel like testing the theory. Standing over Thawne like this was a power rush. He felt powerful as the other laughed on the floor, face bloodied. Barry swallowed thickly. These feelings were supposed to be familiar, he’d felt the pride of standing victorious over Thawne before. But it hadn’t felt like this. This felt sadistic and vicious. He felt like being cruel for the sake of being cruel. The wave of confusion left him off guard, and when he saw Eobard move in his peripheral he half expected this to be the end of him. But instead of a hand around his throat, he felt one high on his inner thigh, and a leg looping around his own.

Looking down, he saw Eobard curled around one leg like a cat, smiling in a manner that was way too pleased, face pressed against Barry's outer thigh as one hand cupped his inner. “That’s more like it. Although you could have taken the opportunity to beat me to a pulp, I’ll accept the improvement I see.”

“You seriously get off on being hit,” Barry said, dismayed.

“It’s called being a fucking masochist, Allen, I would’ve thought even your dense skull would have been able to register that by now.”

Most of the malice in the statement was lost; Eobard was still snuggled up to Barry’s leg. He sat back down on the floor, and Thawne simply filled in the available room in the Flash's lap. Cautiously, Barry moved to rest one hand over the scars on Eobard’s ribs.

“Was this me too?” He looked up at Thawne, concern riddling his face. Barry didn’t think he could intentionally harm someone so badly that it left scars in spite of speed healing.

“Everything that has stayed is yours, Flash,” he leaned down so he could whisper into Barry’s ear, and in hushed tones, he crooned; “You were quite possessive.”

“How’d you get them?”

“The ones on my ribcage? Easy. Knife play .”

Eobard looked like he wanted to launch into the rest of the story but was cut off by Barry's sudden realization.

“Oh shit!”

He ignored Thawne’s raised eyebrow and lunged for his jeans, careful not to throw off the older man. At this point, he could begrudgingly admit that he appreciated the other man’s presence in his lap. But that wasn’t important. What was important was the stupid Swiss Army knife he was supposed to be keeping within arm’s reach. He felt like kicking himself. After some mild struggling and vague noises of complaint from Eobard, Barry was able to produce the knife from out of his pocket and Eobard, who had been watching the whole affair with mild curiosity, moaned into Barry’s neck at the sight.

“You brought a knife," Eobard punctuated the statement with a dirty grind against Barry’s cock, "There’s hope for you yet."

“It wasn’t supposed to be for sex, Thawne.” 

“If the shoe fits wear it. Please tell me you’re going to put it to good use.”

Barry could see what Eobard was implying, but the idea of hurting someone for the sole intent of taking pleasure out of it was still so alien to him that all he could do was blink owlishly at the older man.

“If you’re not going to do it at least let me have at it,” Eobard muttered, grabbing at the blade, “I haven’t been able to get off properly since you put me in here.”

Barry forced that image out of his mind and lurched backwards to keep the knife out of Thawne’s reach.

“There is no way in hell I am letting you have a knife.”

“We do it together then. I can compromise.”

And before Barry could react Eobard snatched up his wrist and brought the knife-wielding hand up to Eobard’s ribs, before thinking better of diving off the deep end again. He scooted out of Barry’s lap, and presented Barry with his palm, wiggling it expectantly. Thawne's grip was still tight around his arm. The hero found himself frozen in place, staring at the skin before him. He couldn't bring himself to do it. Huffing, Thawne intervened and cupping the back of Barry’s knuckles, he forced the knife into the flesh of his palm and carved a thin line into the skin there. A shuddering gasp of pain escaped Eobard’s throat as he did this, his breathing becoming laboured as his pupils grew distant. With shaking hands he brought the injury to his mouth, tongue sliding out to lick away the delicate veil of blood pooling at the edge of the cut, moaning softly as he did so. Barry, brain short-circuiting, could only sit back and watch.

Suddenly, his Reverse thrust the hand into the brunette's face, letting it hover mere inches from his lips. Barry got the memo. Shaking, his free hand slowly took Eobard’s wrist. For a moment, he debated pushing it away, but looking up at the fire in Thawne’s eyes told him that just amusing the man like this would have its benefits. So he did as he was told. Bringing his face to the wound, he gave the cut a thick, wet lick before letting his tongue sneak back into his mouth, the coppery taste of blood chasing after it. Giving a satisfied hum, Eobard pressed back into Barry’s space, kissing a trail up his neck. Barry tipped his head to the side, giving Thawne more access. It seemed he'd been right about that reward.

Eobard sucked a trail of hickeys up the pale column of throat, nipping and tonguing the bruises he was especially proud of. Slowly, he made his way up the throat to suck under his jaw, lips massaging the soft skin there. His bloodied hand cupped one side of Barry's face.

Pausing to mouth at Barry's pulse point he said, "Your heart's beating so fast." 

A soft whine escaped the Flash's lips. This, apparently, was what Eobard had been waiting for because as soon as the noise left him, Thawne pulled back, once again pressing the sluggishly bleeding cut forward. But Barry was more confident this time; he'd done it once before he could do it again. Sucking at the cut with an open mouth, he relished the noises Thawne made with a vindictive kind of pride. Eobard slipped a hand between them to greedily palm the Flash's cock.

“You feel like cutting me up yet?”

The hero pretended to mull over it. His morals continued to protest, but they could quite frankly go fuck themselves right now. He had a lap full of writhing flesh and if this man wanted to be cut into ribbons then so be it. Anything to keep Thawne touching him like he was right now, to keep Thawne making those soft noises like he was right now. It’s not like Eobard’s kinks were any of his business anyway. Plus, this was his nemesis. If there was anyone he was going to enjoy cutting up, it was Thawne.

“Kiss me first,” Barry demanded, trying to regain some semblance of control.

Thawne laughed, shaking his head, but leaned in for the kiss anyway. It was a small, chaste thing. Merely a press of lips. But it was sweet and perfect. And the domesticity of it terrified Barry. He gripped the knife as Thawne pulled away, sighing.

“Come on, Flash. Might as well use that forensics degree for something .”

There was a mischievous glint in Eobard’s eye, and Barry felt like he was missing the joke. It didn’t matter. Steeling himself, Barry pressed tender fingers into the flesh around the persisting scar tissue. He already knew where the arteries should be, but the last thing he wanted to do was cut one and create a very unsexy medical emergency for them to deal with. Eobard had survived the previous injuries, so they were a helpful guide to aid his prior knowledge. After settling on a spot he raised the knife and made one final piece of eye contact with Eobard, checking that the man was still okay with this. Thawne just groaned at him and bucked impatiently. Swallowing thickly, he moved in with the knife, scraping the edge of it along one white line before sinking it into the flesh. The blade bit deep into the skin and Eobard screamed so loud Barry was worried they might be found.

“Are you okay?”

“Miss the times you’d tell me to suck it up.”

He took that as a yes. It had taken a moment for Eobard to catch his breath, and when he spoke his voice was raspy. Barry would be lying if he said it didn’t turn him on.

“Let’s get back to business, then.”

Turning his focus to the blade, he followed the previous incision to its end with medical precision. The skin around the wound puckered and flushed with blood as he reopened the scar. Barry’s breathing had become laboured, but he blamed it on Eobard, who wouldn’t stop squirming against his cock. The Flash refused to even acknowledge the possibility that maybe, just maybe, he liked the power Thawne had given him, liked being able to do this to the man who had caused him so much grief. Even if Eobard got off on it, being able to rip his enemy to pieces had its appeal, didn’t it?

Barry filled the question away for later.

Right now, the only thing he was concerned about was breaking apart the other man’s skin piece by delicate piece, and they slowly settled into an easy rhythm. Barry would cut another gash into Eobard’s ribs, and in exchange Thawne would whimper into his shoulder like a wanton slut, or paint his neck with hickeys until they burned his skin, or lick his way into Barry’s mouth; kissing him till his lips were raw, or palm his cock to the point Barry was so hard it hurt only to stop when he was right at the edge. And it continued like this until Barry ran out of safe skin.

Irritatedly, Barry pulled Thawne’s head off his shoulder, forcing their eyes to meet. The action didn’t stop Eobard from continuing to grind against Barry’s thigh. The hero had intended to ask where else he should cut, but the way his Reverse looked struck something in him. Eobard’s face was red and splotchy, as if he’d been crying, and the matted hair that wasn’t caught up in Barry’s grip had become a golden halo around his blue eyes, glinting and wild in the light of the cell. Shit. Guilt swallowed any arousal he had whole.

As if soothing a child, he brushed the hair out of Eobard’s face, immediately concerned when the blonde leaned into his touch.

“Did I go too far?”

Eobard laughed, body shaking, but his expression was unreadable. Worry gnawed at Barry’s bones as the laughter faded. There was a beat of silence.

“Fuck no.”

“Then why are you crying?” His voice was riddled with concern, and he was still unconvinced. Thawne could just be lying to him for his own purposes.

“Just because I find it hot doesn’t mean I can suddenly block my pain receptors, Flash.”

Eobard sounded annoyed, and he was reminded of how the other man had snapped at him for his earlier concern. Barry wanted to apologize regardless, but he suspected Eobard would appreciate a… different kind of treatment.

He pressed his lips against the shell of Thawne’s ear and growled, “Then get a better pain tolerance, bitch.”

Next to Barry’s head, Eobard made a noise halfway between a sob and whine. “Oh god, Flash, fucking finally. Can I-“ Thawne moved his hand to his own dick, beginning to tug the member harshly, letting out soft gasps, “Can I please come?”

Barry didn’t know why Eobard was under the assumption that he couldn’t come without permission - he suspected it had something to do with his future self - but he sure as hell wasn't complaining. The notion of having that much control over his nemesis that he could dictate when and if he could come was overwhelmingly hot, and he felt the arousal pool in the pit of his stomach.

If you say no, some dark part of him crooned, Will he listen? Barry desperately wanted to find out.

“Stop,” he hissed.

And Eobard stopped. The hand around his cock stilled, eventually peeling itself off Thawne’s member, and he didn’t even complain.

Barry took a moment just to revel in that power, to know that Eobard would obey him, even this close to the edge. Quietly, he thanked his future self for this, but he wasn’t quite ready to take full advantage of it. That sadist wasn’t Barry. Not yet, at least.

He let out a shaky breath. There was still the urge to praise Thawne for his obedience, but he had limited personal experience with this kind of situation. However, certain college roommates had made sure he knew what to say.

“You’re so good for me, Eobard, so good.” He ran a hand up and down Thawne’s back, some mockery of a lover’s embrace. A dark thing inside him stirred, gave him new words to try. “Such a well-trained slut, aren’t you?”

A choked whine came from Eobard, and he bucked against Barry’s crotch.

“Only for you, Flash.”

The statement went straight to Barry’s dick, and he knew that he wouldn’t be able to last much longer. Thawne was looking at him expectantly, as if awaiting further instructions. So that was what he gave him.

“On your back, now.”

Barry hated himself. But Eobard did as he was told, eyes blazing and movements eager. Once on the ground, the blond spread his powerful thighs, emptying a space for Barry and leaving everything on display.

Thawne’s erect cock stood swollen and red between his legs, steadily oozing precum, and his pink hole was puckered neatly between two plump ass cheeks. Barry had to bite his knuckles to avoid coming right there and then. On impulse, Barry leaned forward and kissed the tip of his dick, tasting the salty fluid on his lips. Above him, Eobard whimpered like a dying animal. Something in his memory bubbled up, something from his college days of plugging his ears with a pillow as he desperately tried to block out the moans coming from the neighbouring bedroom.

In a mock-playful tone, he said, “Remember our rule, you don’t come until I say so.” Eobard nodded frantically.

As he moved his hand between Thawne’s legs, another set of marks caught his eye. Several rows of scars lacing the inside of Thawne’s upper thigh were pink against the tender skin there. Barry couldn’t resist the prompt, it was just too easy. Plucking the knife off the cell floor, he wiped the dried blood off on the inside of Eobard’s leg, before making four fat cuts into the flesh there. They weren’t serious, just enough to break the skin. The artery was too close to the surface for anything deeper, much to Barry’s disappointment but no matter, the wounds still swelled with blood. Below him, Eobard was squirming like a bitch in heat, moaning and gasping into the chilly air, hands desperately grasping at the ground as he writhed. The hero just leaned down to press his lips to the incision, letting the blood stain his mouth, sighing against the injured skin.

"You're a fucking whore, Eobard."

The man in question just nodded jerkily, too turned on to say anything.

As he raised his head once more, he noticed the predatory way Thawne’s eyes followed him, and as he once again came to resting position, the blond lurched up to meet him, licking at the bloodstained lips until Barry finally opened up for the other man, letting Eobard’s tongue spill into his mouth, tasting of copper. Barry groaned wantonly.

Refusing to become totally preoccupied with the kiss, he gave Thawne’s cock a quick pump, slicking up his hand with the precum he found there before moving it to the other’s puckered hole. The blond moaned into his mouth as he pressed one finger in. There was barely a second for Eobard to adjust before the second followed it. A short gasp came in response as Barry began to scissor the two fingers, stretching out the tight hole. This wasn’t his first time with another man and he knew preparation was key.

After a minute or two, he inserted the third, but remained unmoving. “Tell me when you’re ready.”

Eobard looked annoyed at this, but whatever protest he had died in his throat as Barry gently began to rub at the other’s prostate. Thrusting at Barry once more he panted out, “Fuck me.”

“I haven’t even-"

“Are you deaf? Fuck me. 'm ready, promise.” Eobard was already beginning to struggle with forming sentences. He shouldn't be turned on by that.

Barry still felt uncertain about going down on the man so early, but his dick was complaining too much to be ignored any longer. Pinning his Reverse to the floor to get better leverage, Barry sunk into his lover. The going was slow, and it was so tight against his cock, but Eobard was making pretty noises and writhing underneath the Flash. And at the end of the day, that was all Barry needed With a shuddering breath, he gave one final thrust. He was in.

He paused there, balls deep in his mother’s murderer, to give both himself and Eobard a moment to adjust. Barry felt one shaking arm loop itself around the small of his back, and Barry allowed himself to be pulled flush against Thawne’s chest, angling the blond's hips so they were easy to thrust into. It was only after he felt Eobard relax around him that he nearly folded the other in half and began to fuck the man in earnest.

Going from rest to a furious and punishing pace was strenuous, but still, Barry let his hips snap against Thawne’s ass as he pummeled the man below him, and the blond’s legs were quickly hooked around Barry’s lower back. It was with mechanical methodology that he created the rhythm they followed. Eobard was so tight around his cock, it felt like he was fucking a vice. Admittedly it was a warm, wet vice that thrust against his dick and moaned in abandon each time he struck its prostate, but a vice nonetheless. That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

It just meant there was no way in hell Barry was going to last very long.

Thawne’s inner walls were soft and plush around Barry’s dick, and the sweat-slicked skin his hands were rolling over was something religious. And each time Barry would sheath himself to the base, ravaging that tight hole, he swore he could see the faintest outline of his cock on Eobard’s abdomen. Their mixing moans filled the cell and bounced back at them, growing ever louder. Barry felt filthy. But damning himself he kept up with the bucking hips below him and left his bruising grip around the other’s hipbones, using them like handlebars that had been perfectly moulded to fit his palms.

Eobard was practically screaming into Barry’s ear and he suspected that he was no better off, his throat felt as if it had been scraped raw, and Eobard’s flesh was throbbing around him. Blood from the cuts on Thawne’s thighs was smearing along Barry’s side, mixing obscenely with the thick layer of sweat there. The skin around the injuries was catching on Barry's wet skin, ripping open further and causing Eobard to whimper pitifully, the sound equal parts arousal and pain. Barry's palms had long since been stained beyond recognition by the wounds around the blond’s ribs. He felt as if he’d been marked, claimed, and dirtied. Which was ironic, because it was Thawne who had just gone through that, not him.

It only took a few more minutes before his thrusts became jerky and frantic. They’d lost the rhythm between them, their thrusts no longer in time, one pulling back as the other was pushing in. But it didn’t matter anymore. Barry was on the edge of his endurance. Eobard’s breathing was coming out in choked gasps and it was only then that he remembered Eobard had to be allowed to come.

Without stopping, Barry brought one bloodstained hand to Thawne’s throbbing cock. He gave it a few steady pumps before lurching forward so their eyes met, and gasping he rasped; “Come for me, Thawne.”

And he did. His ass tightened painfully around Barry’s dick and Thawne’s cum spilled over Barry’s fist in thick spurts, splattering against both of their torsos, and Barry fell in love with how wrecked the blond looked; hair askew, limbs akimbo, breath laboured, chest bloodied, eyes wild, and cock limp. Barry gave it one last squeeze, relishing the yelp Eobard gave at the overstimulation, before tending to his own needs. All it took was a few more thrusts into that lax hole, still smouldering around his member. Coming to a stuttering halt deep inside his Reverse, he came, moaning contentedly as he filled Eobard completely, his own fluids pooling inside the man. A moment later he collapsed on top of the older man, exhausted.

Barry took a minute to catch his breath before pulling out of Eobard with a wet pop and rolling over. There, he let himself bask in the afterglow, one arm still draped over Thawne’s chest as his breathing steadied. His skin felt sticky from sweat, and his shoulder was throbbing from Thawne's earlier love bite. He loved the feeling. Sluggishly Barry looked over at his partner, eyes trailing down the beaten form. Thawne was stunning. Beautiful. He’d gladly go a million and one rounds with the other man if it meant he never had to think about anything but the slick glide of skin on skin ever again.

He cautiously flipped over to curl against the older speedsters side, craving attention, but this was met with no reaction, not even when Barry began using one of Eobard’s pec as an impromptu pillow. Aware he was beginning to be demanding, he leaned up and pressed a chaste kiss to the other’s temple. Still nothing. Barry sighed miserably.

In an honest, but admittedly last-ditch attempt, he said, “You looked so good with my cock stuffed inside you. All hot and bothered for me. I only wish I could have taken a photo; it would have lasted longer.” He waited for a beat, but once again there was no response. Cursing internally, he returned to Eobard’s chest. Barry was still frustrated at the lack of aftercare from the older man, but at the very least Barry could respect his boundaries. “Those cuts are going to need medical attention, I’ll bring in a first aid kit.”

“Later, Barry,” Thawne rasped, eyes still closed, “Please.”

“Later,” he nodded tiredly, “I can do that.”

“Good,” Eobard whispered, as gentle fingers came up to cup the back of Barry’s head.

Chapter Text

Eobard had been left alone with his thoughts in the cage. Barry - ever the valiant hero - had left just a few minutes earlier to procure a First Aid kit, which had given Eobard time to mull over the other’s motives, because there was no way Allen wasn’t somehow benefiting from all this aftercare. He knew the Flash too well by now to be that naive. But prior to this instance, emotional intimacy had never been Allen’s cup of tea. For Eobard and the Future Flash, everything had been about sex, power, pleasure, chains, whips, dominance, knives. As much as his younger self might have prayed and hoped and dreamed of a time the Flash would sweep him off his feet and finally make love to him, there had never been anything between the two men but lust. Barry’s future self had made that very clear.

Which was why the whole cuddling thing had thrown Thawne through a loop. There had to be a reason for it; the other speedster never did anything without one, even his imprisonment was somehow justified in Allen’s mind. The Flash could be trying to use physical comfort to create some kind of trust between them, which, in the case he was successful, may make Eobard more docile or easier to trick into some trap later down the road. More innocently, this might just be another way of Barry using him for his own pleasure. This infantile version of his nemesis might still have some humanity left in him that compelled him to seek the company of his peers, despite all evidence denying the existence of anything remotely human remaining in Barry Allen, even this young one. Best case scenario, Barry was trying to coddle Eobard so he would agree to continue their sexual relations, wrongly believing that physical affection would appeal to the blond after their brutal encounter. Worst case scenario, it was a ploy devised purely for the brunette's own amusement. Eobard wouldn’t be surprised if Allen was simply using this to get a laugh out of how vulnerable Eobard was willing to be for him, and he felt his pride wince at the thought.

Not that Eobard had disliked cuddling with the other man, it was just that he didn’t trust it. Not that that made a single difference to the feelings he’d long since thought dead. Barry Allen had woken up some forgotten thing in him, bringing him back to his youth. Back to when he would have died to be privy to the precious moments he’d just spent coupled with the Flash. Back to when Barry Allen had been his entire world, his God. Back to when he’d sneak into his lectures five minutes late wearing a turtleneck to cover more than just the bites from his beloved Flash.

Eobard clutched at his neck. Sometimes he swore he could still feel the cool bite of metal and the weight against his collarbones that so frequently accompanied the Future Flash’s favourite toy. He felt his grip tighten painfully around his throat, sighing softly as he debated the merits of getting off while waiting for Barry to get back. If he pressed on the cuts just right he might be able to-

A burst of lightning in the corner of his vision drew Eobard from his thoughts. He turned his head to look at the returning hero, half hard. His gaze settled on a still-bloodied Barry, who appeared cowed to be back in the warehouse. Thawne found himself sincerely hoping that the younger man wasn’t already regretting his choices from earlier that night. Gingerly, Eobard brought his hand down, and knew that there would be a bright red ring from his palm. The way Barry swallowed thickly as he moved only confirmed his suspicions, and made Eobard very happy indeed. He couldn’t resist the smirk twitching over his lips.

“I see you still haven’t gotten redressed yet,” was Barry’s greeting, a slight blush on his pale cheeks. Eobard could tell that he was trying to keep the shake out of his voice and his eyes away from Eobard's cock, but was failing miserably.

“Not like there was a point, what with you telling me you were coming back and all.”

“We’re not-” Barry cut himself off, an almost angry expression overtaking his face, “Doing that again, Eobard. Ever.”

“I’m sure.”

“Seriously, whatever the hell we just did was was a one-time thing.” This Flash was a coward and a fickle bitch.

“Oh? Then why are you here, Allen,” he snarled. Eobard didn’t have time for this. The other speedster had already benefited at Eobard’s expense; he’d been foolishly submissive for this fetal version of his nemesis.

In the heat of passion, Thawne had forgotten just who he was bending over for. This wasn’t the god-like man from the future who was more Speed Force than human, powerful the point that he could bend Eobard’s powers to his whim. Because of his slip up his place in their encounter had been all wrong. He had submitted to Barry like he was the same wanton slut of his youth, desperate to please in any way he could. It should have been Barry bent over and writhing. And if the man couldn’t appreciate how lucky he’d been, that wasn’t his problem.

“I told you earlier why I was leaving, Eobard,” Allen raised up the First Aid Kit, as if to remind him, “Neither of us wants those cuts getting infected; I’m patching you up.”

“Like hell you are. If you’re not going to fuck me you might as well leave me to get off in peace.”

“I’m not just going to leave you to bleed out!”

“You never had a problem with it before,” he shot back. Letting Barry anywhere near him now would just be a testament to his dependency on the Flash. Which was unacceptable.

“What are you- Damn it, Thawne! I’m not the man from your past! You need to accept that, the sooner you quit pretending the better it’ll be for both of us.”

“You,” Eobard growled, lurching to his feet, anger burning in his chest as he bared his teeth like a wild animal. The Flash was not only ignorant but blind if he was the one accusing Eobard of pretending, “Are the only one here with any kind of misconceptions about reality. You can’t even admit to yourself that we fucked! Hell, you can’t even bring yourself to say the word.”

He noticed the pause before Barry got around to responding. Whether it was because of what he said or because of his rather blatant display of nudity was anyone’s game. However, the way Barry’s green eyes flickered up and down Eobard’s frame, lingering on his half hard cock gave Eobard a pretty good idea. Shaking himself out Barry retorted, “That was not sex.”

“Oh no, of course not, my bad,” Eobard bowed almost apologetically with a sweeping motion as he said the words, sarcasm lacing his voice, “We were just knitting a scarf for your dear, old mother. In the nude. With knives. And your dick up my tight -“

“Would you just shut up!” Barry roared, lunging at the cage bars and bring one fist down hard on the metal. The sound reverberated around the warehouse as the Flash caught his breath, chest heaving. After a tense moment, the other deflated as rapidly as his temper had flared. He sagged into the bars as and brought his hands forward to grip them in his shaking fists. A truly pitiful whimper escaped Barry. Eobard felt his cock twitch at the sound as he licked his lips, thinking of the way the younger man had tasted in his mouth not an hour earlier. He loved it when he could rile up Barry like this. From this angle, Eobard could see a bulge through Barry’s pants and the slick sheen of sweat coating his shoulders. Allen had forgone a top when he left for the First Aid Kit, but jeans had - apparently - been essential to the Flash.

Crouching down, Eobard brought himself to Barry’s eye level. With the way they were positioned Allen was getting a nice view of Thawne’s undeniably hard dick, but that wasn’t the intention. His stance meant Barry would have to look up at Eobard to meet his eye, and the more dominant side of Eobard purred in response.

Leaning forward, Thawne gingerly hooked two fingers under Barry’s jaw, pausing for a moment to give Allen a chance to pull back. Earlier experiences had taught him that if he wanted positive results, slow and steady was how you won the race. After a shaky exhale, Barry glanced up at Eobard out of the corner of his eye, and the blond took that as his cue to gingerly tilt Barry’s head up. As blue eyes met green, Eobard weighed the brunette’s expression, trying to garner what the other was feeling.

Barry was definitely conflicted; he could see the thoughts chasing each other about in Barry’s eyes, but he didn’t quite regret his actions if he was letting Eobard touch him with such tenderness. At least, Allen didn’t regret them yet. Eobard intended to ensure he never did.

He let a low, soothing rumble seep out his throat before he purred, “Oh, Barry,” and leaned in to kiss the other man.

Barry choked back what sounded like a sob as reciprocated the all-too-sweet kiss. It was chaste and pure and Eobard hummed against the other’s plush lips - he’d forgotten how soft they were, and it had only been less than half an hour since they’d last touched. The Flash sighed into his mouth. This kiss was nothing like their usual ones. Where there was once teeth and tongue now stood shaky breaths and gentle movements. Eobard didn’t necessarily want the change, but it was needed to coax this version of his nemesis into giving him what he wanted: sex. So he welcomed it with open arms.

He nipped Barry’s lip as he pulled away, right where the scab was. Green eyes fluttered open as Barry yelped. Eobard allowed for a pause to sit in the air before he continued. “Admit it to yourself, Barry, you’re a sadist. And you got off to cutting me into slivers. You enjoyed it like the freak you are.” Barry’s eyes lit as Eobard recalled the memory and Eobard saw remembered arousal flash in Barry’s face.

Barry’s Adam’s Apple bobbed as he swallowed. “I won’t say it.”

“I know,” Eobard sighed, “You just have to accept it.”

He watched Barry shift his weight from side to side as the other deliberated something, refusing to meet Eobard’s gaze. After a moment, and after seeming to come to a conclusion, he looked up again. “Please, Eobard, just let me fix you.”

It took him an embarrassingly long time to realize Barry meant his injuries and not his mental state. “Give me one good reason I should let you anywhere near me.”

Barry bit his lip, but ultimately there was very little hesitation to the response, “You’ll get a blow job out of it?”

“A what?!” The answer shocked Eobard, who had been accepting some sappy answer like ‘because I’ve hurt you and need to apologize’ or ‘it’ll make me feel better about my current identity crisis’.

“God damn it, Thawne, don’t make me say it again.”

Barry shouldn’t have given him the idea. Shaking his head, he said, “In all honesty, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m afraid 21st-century slang isn’t something they teach in a 22nd-century boarding school.”

He heard Barry mutter angrily under his breath, something about how ‘of course he went to a boarding school’ and Eobard had to bite at the back of his knuckles to keep from smiling and giving himself away. “If you let me patch you up I-” Barry’s expression crinkled into a grimace, “I’ll suck your dick.”

“There, now was that so hard?” He could hear the huskiness in his voice and watched as realization dawned on Barry’s face as his words sunk in.

“You tricky son of a -” and Eobard was kissing him, tongue slipping between teeth as he moved a hand into Barry’s thick hair. Moaning into Eobard’s mouth, Barry’s hands pulled at his blond locks in kind, tugging periodically as he pressed his face to Eobard’s, opening his jaw wider for the older man. Half gasped breaths filled the warehouse, and Eobard quickly felt himself running out of air, but kissing the Flash was addictive, as it had always been, as it always would be. It felt like electricity was dancing between them, and given the nature of both men, it was entirely possible that description was literal as well as figurative. He tugged Barry towards him, and heard the thunk of the other man’s bare torso hitting the bars of the cage.

Unsympathetically, he just used his unoccupied hand to grope Barry’s cock through his jeans. Allen broke the kiss to groan into the chilly air, throwing his head back as he bucked into Eobard’s fingers. Thawne immediately took the opportunity to bite hickies into Barry’s neck. Barry responded by leaning his head to one side to give Thawne’s teeth more room, moaning softly as he did so.

Barry’s skin was salty against Eobard’s tongue, and he randomly switched between feather-light kisses trailing up the column of the Flash’s throat and harsh, cannibalistic bites into the delicate flesh. He knew from past experience that the contrast would drive Barry wild, and the way the other was whining and squirming in Eobard’s embrace told him the younger Flash liked it just as much as the older one.

Eobard let his slick tongue run over the pulsing jugular just beneath the paper-thin skin of the brunette’s neck, and Eobard had to force down a groan at the notion that he could kill Barry like this. If he bit hard enough into the pulse point right there not only would he experience the lovely feeling of Barry’s very lifeblood flooding both his mouth and his senses, but he would also get to watch the light leave Barry’s beautiful green eyes. Eobard found himself wondering if they’d still be the same lovely shade of emerald green if he cut them from the Flash’s unseeing corpse. He supposed he’d have to freeze them, at least. The idea was highly appealing, but impractical so rather than follow through with that idea, he nuzzled at the pulse he felt beneath the skin, sighing before latching onto a chunk of flesh and sucking hard with the intent to bruise and mark and claim. Barry Allen was his and no Iris fucking West could take him away from Eobard. Not while he was alive to do something about it.

From above him, Barry panted out, “Is this a yes?”

Teasingly, Eobard stopped what he was doing, pressing his nose against the other’s neck and gently carding his fingers through brown hair as if he was mulling over it. In reality, there was no way he’d ever turn down the opportunity to see the Flash on his knees for him, but Barry didn’t need to know that. He waited until Allen shifted nervously before answering, “Yes. But the blow job comes first.”

“Bullshit!” Eobard growled at the disobedience and sunk his teeth into Barry’s skin, “Fuck, you know that hurts like a bitch, right? God. I’m not blowing you first, you’ll just fight me when I try to bandage you up.”

“No, I won’t”

“That’s a lie and you know it,” Eobard swore under his breath, Barry had called him out.

Moving away from Barry’s abused throat he pressed his lips to the shell of his ear, letting out a husky breath before whispering, “If you give me the blow job first I’ll lick the blood off your hands before you tie me up.”

“Before I bandage you, Eobard,” the Flash corrected halfheartedly, too preoccupied with grinding his crotch against the base of the cage to put too much bite into it. “And - fuck, I’m so close, Eobard,” Barry whined as his thrusts grew erratic. Eobard had to shove him away from the wall to snap Barry out of his daze.

“As hot as it is to see you so bothered over a few hickies and some kissing, we are trying to have a conversation here, Barry.”

The brunette wrang out his hand, fidgeting. “... I like it better when you call me Flash. You say Barry differently. I like the way you say Flash better. It’s hotter.”

And Barry was already on to simple sentences. Brilliant. At the rate this night was going the Flash would be coming before the fun even started. “Noted. I will confess that your future self preferred the title Flash as well. But please, carry on with what you were saying earlier.” Barry looked at Eobard with a confused gaze, unsurprising given the speedster had started fumbling with his belt buckle, desperate to get into his own pants and deal with his aching member. “About my offer, Barry.”

The brunette eyes lit up, and he seemed to sober a little. “Oh! Well…” Barry paused and ran a finger over the bite in his lip, and knowing Eobard hadn’t caused it made jealousy course through him. “I mean, we both know the whole hand licking thing is just as self-indulgent as the blow job, at least from your perspective. You’re going to like it, maybe not as much as you like being cut up, but you will. Wouldn’t have offered if you didn’t. I say we do the blood thing first, then bandages, then the blow job. No sooner.”

“You hate me.”

“Maybe,” Barry purred, eyes hooded, and it reminded Eobard so much of the future Flash that he had to fight down the urge to roll over and spread his legs in apology, “But really your only option is licking the blood off or not.”

“I could always say no, Allen, you seem to forget that.”

“I wouldn’t have offered to suck you off if I hadn’t been sure you would accept, Reverse. And I asked you to call me Flash, or weren’t you listening?” Barry smirked, it seemed something had shown on his face earlier, something that had reminded Barry that Eobard had been the submissive one in the future, not the dominant figure he was currently portraying.

He had to regain control.

“It seems you’re forgetting who’s in charge here, Barry .” Allen sneered in response, but didn’t say anything until he’d pulled his belt loose, testing the weight in his hand for a moment, expression unreadable.

“Well,” he started, a strange lilt to his voice, “It sure as hell isn’t you. Not with the way you were acting just a little while ago.”

Eobard snarled at that. “Two problems with that statement. The first being you can’t even admit what a ‘little while ago’ was, you stuck up prick, and the second is that you keep saying that you’re not your future self, yet here you are, chest puffed up like some bloody peacock as you strut around trying to play dominant. Go fuck yourself, Allen.”

Barry visibly deflated at that, wincing. It seemed like Eobard had called the younger man’s bluff. He felt a smile twitch onto his face, if Barry wanted to top that badly, he’d have to work a lot harder than that, especially now that Eobard had pulled his act together and started utilizing the power he had over him. “Oh, quit your pouting. Get into this cell before the blood dries too much. It won’t be any fun if I have to scrape it all off with my teeth.”

Perking up at that, Barry rushed into the cage, the door banging shut behind him. Eobard heard the sound before he registered that Barry moved, despite the time it would have taken him to run around the cage and to the door. It just reminded him of the speed Allen had robbed him of.

Barry was swaying by the doorway, still clutching his belt, as if waiting for Eobard’s cue. He vaguely wondered if Barry had noticed the blond was caught up in his own thoughts, and was waiting for him to snap out of it. Eobard felt his lip twitch up into a sneer at the thought, but ignored it with an impatient, “What are you waiting for? Get over here.”

After plopping the belt on the floor, the Flash bounded over like a lovelorn puppy, and Eobard found himself hoping Barry wasn’t romanticizing their encounters. It was unlikely, given the man’s earlier hesitance, but still, he worried. He knew better than anyone how much unrequited love could hurt. Once Barry was in front of him, Eobard sat down on the cot and roughly pulled the other speedster into his lap, making both men gasp. Barry out of shock, Eobard because of the pain that shot through him as the other’s pants caught on the sore skin around his cuts. Writhing, Thawne moaned as Barry settled into his lap before he looped his arms around the blond’s neck.

Just as he was about to snap at Barry for being counterproductive - Eobard had no idea how Allen expected him to suck the blood off his hands like this - the thought was quickly cut short. Allen had used his grip around Eobard’s torso as leverage to grind his clothed member into Eobard’s, the denim of his jeans catching painfully against the skin of his dick. It had him gasping like he’d been shocked, mind scrambling as clawed at Barry’s back, skin puckering under the harsh tug of Eobard’s nails.

“Fuck, Flash .”

“That’s better,” Barry crooned. Eobard gave a low, warning growl, but otherwise said nothing.

Allen pried his hands off Thawne’s neck, before gently caressing the side of his face. Eobard felt the still-wet blood smear across his face, and he looked up at Barry with some strange feeling twisting in his gut. He hated how vulnerable the tenderness made him feel. However, Barry wasn’t looking at him. Instead, the man’s gaze had settled on the sluggishly bleeding cuts littering his torso, eyes distant and glossy as he traced them with his free hand.

“If you’re getting soft on me now, I swear I’ll-” He was cut off by Barry’s thumb stuffing itself into his mouth. Metallic blood filled his mouth and Eobard felt the wet slick of blood on his lips, he moaned around the taste as his eyes rolled back ever so slightly. Without hesitation, he ran the flat of his tongue against the pad of the finger before gently sucking it, nibbling occasionally. He heard Barry groan above him and his eyes, darkened by lust, glanced up to meet the sound.

“Can you please just shut up for one minute?” the other man pleaded.

“I don’t know...” Eobard teased as he pulled away from the bloodied finger, voice hoarse, “Depends how long this lasts. Or rather,” he breathed, dragging his tongue along the arch between Barry’s thumb and pointer finger, “How long you last.” Allen gave a full body shudder at that, smothering a whimper by biting down on the knuckles of his free hand. Eobard chuckled into Barry’s palm as the other’s body shuddered. Thawne’s teeth were undoubtedly stained red by now and he could feel the blood flaking at the corners of his mouth, staining his lips crimson like a lipstick, and the slight smear drying somewhere near his jaw. Feeling mischievous, he moved up to one of Barry’s still-bloodied fingers, and suckled lightly on the tip, before deepthroating the whole thing in a slow, languid movement, making sure to suck every few centimetres. It certainly wasn’t as big as what Eobard was used to swallowing down, but it seemed to impress the Flash nonetheless. The other’s green eye widened almost comically and Eobard could see his pupils dilate. He would have called out the other man for how easily he was affected by the action, but his mouth was otherwise occupied at the moment.

There was something horrifyingly erotic about licking his blood off another man’s hands, and the effect was only amplified by the fact said man was responsible for all the blood. He shot Barry a wicked grin full of red-tinged teeth before he carried on mouthing at the blood on his palm. All the while, Allen busied himself by rubbing circles into the tender flesh above Eobard’s hip, leaving a pink circle of blood in his wake.

The procedure was repeated with the other hand, and Barry’s breathing became laboured as time went on. Slowly, slowly, Barry’s bloodied hands turned pale once again. It wasn’t for some time that the whole ordeal would be finished, but in the meantime, Eobard moved in time to Barry’s laboured breathing and gasped breaths, to the gentle squeezes and soft croons from the other. It was poetry in motion and the way the Flash was gently cupping the back of his head was reverent something terrifying.

But the mood didn’t last forever, and soon Barry was pulling away from Eobard with a fragile breath, hands shaking.

His smile only got wider at that, “I guess you were right, I did enjoy it,” he paused to give a breathy laugh,”Which is surprising, I never did anything like that for the Future Flash.”

Barry flushed pink at that, obviously flattered to be Eobard’s first in something. “O-oh?”

“Mm,” Eobard hummed. The Reverse Flash wasn’t quite avoiding the other’s gaze, but he certainly wasn’t meeting it if he could help it. He shouldn’t have admitted to giving the other man any firsts. It was too vulnerable, but there was no going back now. “The closest we got to that was him licking blood off me. Namely,” he paused again, but it was a nervous chuckle this time, soft and quiet. Hopefully Barry hadn’t noticed the difference. “When all was said and done and I was a sobbing wreck - all lovely and broken just the way he liked it - he’d curl over me and just… lap off the blood from the cuts.”

It felt like he was talking in a fishbowl, Eobard wasn’t fully aware of what he was doing and part of him was concerned it was the blood loss. Wouldn’t be the first time. “It was strange, especially coming from him, because he didn’t do anything he couldn’t immediately profit from. But if he was in a good mood when we were done he’d do it. One hand would be on my chest, to hold me still,” he placed one of Barry’s palms over his heart as he did so, and heard a soft gasp through his daze. “I was still shaking like a leaf, you see. But as he did this he’d use the other hand to halo the wound.” Once again, he mirrored the story with this Barry’s hands, moving the free one to cup the throbbing flesh on his ribs. Barry made a choked noise and gently laid his forehead on Eobard’s shoulder, but one quick glance out of the corner of his eye told him Barry was still watching, a fire burning in his eyes. 

"And then, he’d lean down,” Eobard felt Allen’s move to a kneel in front of the cot, hands still resting on Eobard’s torso, and he spread his legs to give Barry more access to his chest. But instead of watching the other man, he leaned back, turning his sight to the burning bulb hanging from the ceiling, before letting his eyes slip closed. He did; however, take the opportunity to lace his fingers in Barry’s hair. “And the next thing I know there’d be the softest pressure over my skin, gentle as anything.”

As expected, and as Eobard had been priming the other man for, Barry leaned forward and gave one of Thawne’s cuts a lavish stroke with his tongue. Eobard groaned softly, head hitting the bars as he let it loll backwards. It had been far too long since someone had done that to him. “It was the closest thing to aftercare we had.”

There was a moment of silence as Barry moved down to the next cut, giving it another wet lick before speaking, “Aftercare is important, Eobard.”

He snorted, not even bothering to open his eyes, “I’m sure.”

Barry just kissed the tail end of one particularly nasty injury. He could feel the other man’s glare on him the same way he could feel the Flash’s hot breaths tingling his skin.

Another pause. “I still can’t believe I did this to you…” Allen had stopped speaking to mouth another cut, but Eobard could tell there was more he wanted to say. “You said my future self made you cry? Frequently?”

This time, Eobard did crack open one blue eye, fixing Barry with a hard stare. He couldn’t say the question was surprising, but he had assumed this stupidly young Flash had enough tact to know better than to ask. Apparently, he’d been wrong. “He always put it best when he said it wasn’t sex if I wasn’t sobbing.”

Barry turned away from Eobard, pressing his temple to the blond’s abdomen. “That’s disgusting.”

Grabbing Barry under his jaw, he forced the younger man to face him, ignoring the muffled yelp that the action produced. “Well, why don’t you tell him that, hmm?” A snarl curled out of his throat as he said the words, and Eobard felt his mouth break into a sneer. He might have been unnecessarily cruel but frankly, he didn’t have time for Barry’s bullshit. He let go, and Barry immediately took the opportunity to pull away from Eobard, quickly transforming himself into himself in a heap on the floor, four feet away from the blond. Eobard couldn’t say he blamed him.

An awkward pause followed, going on for some time, silence swallowing the space between them. The only sound was the occasional shuddering breath from Barry, who seemed to be struggling to recuperate from Eobard’s actions. He felt concern building in him, despite his best efforts to fight it down. Perhaps the jaw had been the wrong place to grab; Barry probably assumed he’d been going for the throat, and had been trying to kill him for the transgression, not reprimand him. Eobard bit at the inside of his cheek, and making up his mind stood up and padded over to Barry.

The other man didn’t flinch back at his approach, which earned him some points in Eobard’s mind, but he did watch Thawne like a hawk, eyes wary and fearful as they followed his movements. He plopped down beside the younger man, but didn’t say anything at first, opting to give Barry a moment to become comfortable with his presence. Eobard felt vaguely like he should offer some comfort to the juvenile version of his nemesis, but he doubted Barry would accept it from him, and Eobard had no idea how to make him feel better even if the brunette did accept. After a minute, his patience was rewarded when he saw Barry unfurl from the huddled ball beside him, and sit up with a shaky breath. “Don’t touch me like that ever again.”

Eobard nodded briskly. He didn’t need to know what it was about the neck area that made it hands-off.

They sat together for a moment, each man calming down and licking their wounds - figuratively, this time - before Eobard spoke.

“Earlier, you mentioned something along the lines of aftercare. Why don’t we do that.” Barry instantly perked up at that, and Eobard had to hold back a sigh of relief. Not all was lost, then.

Eobard settled himself on the floor as Barry turned to grab the kit. He was still nervous about letting the hero do this, but he needed Barry to trust him. There were some clattering noises and then the harsh scrape of metal on concrete before Allen appeared before him, a shy smile on his face as he perched the First Aid supplies between them. The mood was changing once again.

“You’re blushing like a virgin, Flash .”

Barry made embarrassed, happy noises at that, and Eobard laughed in earnest. Not anything condescending or cruel, but something that was actually rather fond. The sound seemed to surprise both of them, but that didn’t stop Eobard from leaning in and pressing a chaste kiss to Barry’s lips, easy as breathing. As Eobard pulled away, Barry chased after him, and they exchanged several sweet, heart-fluttering kisses as he returned to his original position. Barry was a sight. His hair was tousled and haloed his face, lit up by the blinding light of the bulb behind him. The split on his lip had been reopened sometime during the evening, and the slightest spot of blood now tainted his bruising lips. A thick blush dyed his face a lovely shade of pink, and he was beaming. Barry's smile’s fondness was untainted by its sheepish nature, in fact, the slight hesitation of it almost seemed to amplify the effect. The way Eobard’s heart was beating in his ears told him he was no better off. He felt like a schoolgirl with a crush all over again.

Leaning over the First Aid Kit, Eobard pressed their faces together, cupping the sides of Barry’s face between his palms. He took Barry’s bottom lip between his teeth, determined to do something about the foreign cut there. While he couldn’t remove it, he could make it his own, which was exactly what he did. With some exploring, his tongue found the spot where the skin broke, and he pressed at it with the tip, a small whimper escaping Barry. His teeth followed the path carved by his tongue, and soon his front teeth found the divit themselves. Lightly, he pressed them into the indent, telling Barry what he planned to do, but didn’t move until he had the other’s approval. After figuring out why Eobard had stopped, Barry made a small urging noise. The blond took his cue instantly, sinking teeth into flesh mercilessly, and Barry gasped beneath him, squirming. Blood filled his mouth, and he moaned around the metallic taste as the fluid stained his teeth. It pooled thick in his mouth, and the parallel between him fantasizing about swallowing down Barry's blood earlier and now actually swallowing Barry’s blood was not lost on him. 

The Flash pushed him away gently, crimson dripping from both their mouths. It was smeared across chins and smudged along lips. Silence, as they panted for breath. The contrast between pale skin and vivid red was harsh and stark in the artificial lighting, and if you asked Eobard, it looked terribly romantic, too.

“Aftercare does actually have to include aftercare, Eo.” Barry laughed, breathless.

Eobard hummed in agreement, and leaned back to give the other space to bind his injuries. But his mind was elsewhere. While it was apparent to the blond that the other man was merely trying out the nickname ‘Eo’, it was a chillingly familiar phrase to Eobard. In his time, in the future, it was one of two things the Future Flash would regularly call him, the other being Fanboy. He had come to hate the latter name with a passion, but Eo… it had always been the softer of the pair, the one Barry would use when he was feeling particularly happy with him. Those memories had long since been tainted by the Flash’s betrayal, but the positive association with the name remained in spite of it all.

He said nothing about it to Barry, but allowed himself to drift back to reality regardless, where he was greeted by the sight of Allen on his knees before him, carefully bandaging his left thigh, and humming a tune Eobard didn’t recognize. One thigh was already finished, bandaged firmly and clasped in place. The fact Barry had not only finished a bandage already, but had also moved onto another without Eobard noticing was highly concerning, especially given the amount of jostling that must’ve taken. Sighing, he reached up to Barry’s face, pushing some hair out of the other’s eyes before moving to cup the brunette’s cheek. Barry glanced up at him, pausing his at his work to calculate the blond’s intentions. Eobard gave a soft smile, the one the Future Flash had once called ‘teeth-rottingly sweet’, and it seemed to pacify the other man.

“I never took you to be one to daydream.” He said as he finished securing the other bandage.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“Oh?” Barry’s gaze turned mischievous, glancing out of the corner of his eye at the blond, “Like what? Some romantic love of poetry?”

“Shut up.” Barry's face lit up like a lamp, a shameless grin spreading across his face. Shit. He shouldn’t have said anything.

“Oh my God. Eobard you don’t really. Eooo, ” Barry dragged out the last word as he collapsed laughing into the Reverse’s shoulder. It seemed he was becoming more comfortable with the pet name, that or testing his reaction again.

Eobard grumbled, “I hate you.”

“I’m sure. God, I still can’t believe- I would never have guessed.”

“I came from a very influential family,” he explained, as if instructing one of his students, “An extensive knowledge of English literature was not only encouraged but expected.” Apparently his professor voice was entirely ineffective because Barry’s smile only got impossibly wider as he pressed himself to Eobard’s chest, giggling as he looped his arms around Thawne’s neck.

“Okay, yeah, but that doesn’t mean you have to like it, you absolute nerd .”

Sighing, he relented, “You’re going to be the death of me, Barry.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” The tone was joking, but Eobard was quickly growing tired of their banter.

“No, I’m serious Barry, I’m bleeding all over you, are you bandaging me up or not?”

“Oh!” Barry looked down, his chest looked vaguely like a preschool fingerpainting project gone wrong, and the sight would have amused Eobard if it hadn’t been his blood. “Oh my god you really are, ah-” Acting quickly, the brunette scrambled to the First Aid Kit for supplies as Eobard leaned back on his elbows, groaning as his tired muscles relaxed.

The antiseptic wipes emerged from the box first, and he felt the stinging pain of the wipe before he registered that they’d touched him. Sucking in a breath through his teeth, he tried to stay quiet as Barry carried on. “You’re lucky none of these need stitches, or we would have a serious problem on our hands.”

“You did them with a dirty pocket knife mid-fuck, I think we were going to have problems regardless of whether or not I needed stitches. But, you could always let-”

“The answer is no.”

Eobard had touched a nerve, but he’d never been known to stop while he was ahead anyway. “I’m going crazy in here, Barry.” The wipe came down on another cut, and he hissed in response, teeth clenching. There was an unnecessary amount of pressure being put on the wound. It seemed Barry being a little too rough with him, and not in the fun way.

“No offence, but I'm pretty sure you were crazy before I put you in the cage.”

“Crazier, then.” Barry just grunted dismissively at him, reaching for the kit again.

Coming out of the box clutching a fresh pack of bandages he said, “That’s really not my problem,” but leaned in for a kiss anyway, something which Eobard begrudgingly accepted.

As Barry dressed the wounds on his ribs, Eobard allowed himself to revel in the moment and truly appreciate the amount of care being shown to him; he might be terrified of the vulnerability but he was a big enough of a narcissist to appreciate some pampering. With surgical precision the Flash laid the dressing on his torso, carefully watching his movements as Eobard sank into the tender feeling of gentle pressure unfurling over his chest. Barry would set it down and then pause for a few moments, straightening it or smoothing it out with kind hands. Warm palms clutched Eobard like he was something delicate, valuable, and absolutely priceless. It felt like something out of his younger self’s wet dreams. This shouldn’t be real. He moved his hands into Barry’s hair, twining the strands around his fingers as he relaxed into Barry’s ministrations. With some hesitatance, he began to card his fingers through the soft brown hair, tousling it and making a right mess out of it, but Barry seemed to like it, if the way he was now pressing the occasional soft kiss over the newly-laid bandages was any indication.

After a few minutes, Barry pulled away, much to Eobard’s disappointment. He batted the blond’s grabbing hands away as he inspected the binding on his chest and legs, poking the blond occasionally. Eobard logically knew Barry was checking to make sure the blood circulation was still intact, but the only place he wanted those hands right now was around his dick.

Barry had promised him a blow job, after all.

A few more pokes and a slight tug at one of the bandages and then Barry sat back, making a little noise of affirmation before nodding, satisfied with his handy work. The was a slight lull in the movement between them. Both knew what came next but neither wanted to say it. Barry because he was embarrassed that he’d offered at all, and Eobard because he wanted to see Allen squirm.

“So, uh…” Barry wiggled a bit, biting his lips as he searched for the words. Eobard’s dick was way too excited for this.

“About that blow job, Barry.” His smile was sultry, he was enjoying this way too much. The other man swallowed thickly, and Eobard damn near moaned in anticipation.

Thawne spread his legs, attempting to be enticing. Whether or not he was succeeding was a mystery; Barry was refusing to look in his direction. Huffing he said, “For consent reasons, I’ll tell you now that you can back out at any time. I’m a lot of terrible things Allen, but I’m not a rapist.”

“I know,” Barry said, which was surprising. Pleasant, but surprising. He was honestly amazed the speedster thought anything but the worst of him, no matter the context. “I’m just…”

“Nervous?”

“Not quite,” Barry bit his lip, and Eobard saw the wince in his face from where his canines dug into the bite Eobard had put there, “It’s almost like excitement and I- This is wrong, Eobard. This entire thing is wrong. I shouldn’t be having sex with my mother’s would-be murderer, and I shouldn't be thinking of you in these filthy ways, and I shouldn't be anywhere near this cage unless I'm giving you food, and I shouldn’t even be keeping you in a cage to begin with, and I definitely shouldn’t be laughing with you over fucking poetry and I shouldn’t want you like this and I-” the Flash cut himself off with a sob, having worked himself up to the point of crying. Barry bit down on one shaking hand while the free one clutched at his jeans, another choked noise ripping itself out of his chest. "I'm supposed to hate you, Eobard, and I don't know if I do anymore... I just feel so guilty all the time and I want it to stop and for some fucking reason this helps it makes me forget about all the horrible shit I've done and I don't even know why, Eo."

“Barry…” he didn’t know how to react to this. Cautiously, he reached up to Barry’s face, tracing the edge of a cheekbone with a feather-light touch, hoping the physical touch would convey his worry and concern. As he reached the end of it, the brunette practically threw himself into Eobard’s chest, where he began to sob in earnest. After a moment or two, Eobard finally reacted, and hesitantly embraced the younger man, cradling the shaking back.

Barry managed to stop crying surprisingly quickly, but he kept shaking for some minutes. It wasn’t until after the other man was only trembling slightly did he feel Barry turn in his arms and sigh shakily into his neck, planting a kiss there, and carried on kissing his way the column of throat given to him.  Eobard tilted his head to one side to make room for the other man, but remained suspicious of Barry’s emotional state. Once Barry got to Eobard’s ear, he pressed one final peck into the shell of it before whispering hoarsely, “I wanna make you feel good.” Before moving downwards, presumably to carry out what they’d agreed on.

“Wait, Barry.” Eobard grabbed at the other’s shoulders, his green eyes were still puffy from crying for Pete's sake and now he was trying to go down on him like nothing was wrong? Normally he wouldn’t pry but this now directly involved him and he wasn’t having any part in whatever hot mess the other man was dealing with.

“Shut up, shut up. I’ll be alright, please. Just shut up.” Trapped in Eobard’s grasp, Barry was refusing to meet his eye, fighting weakly against the other's stronger grip. Barry might be the one with a more regular diet but Eobard had always had several pounds of muscle mass on the other speedster. Eobard just tightened his hold on the struggling Flash.

“Talk to me.” Barry just shuddered, and for a minute Eobard was wondering if he could force Barry to leave the cage if he decided to do this despite Eobard’s protests.

There was a beat of silence in which Eobard fixed Barry with a hard stare, attempting to be consoling and stern at the same time. After what felt like hours, Barry looked up again, face blotchy but resolve firm. “I need this to be worth it. If shit hits the fan I need to be able to look back on this and know that I understood the risks and made the choice anyway - made it for a reason, even if it’s a grossly selfish one. What would I think of myself if I had to carry on with my life knowing I would’ve done this if you’d let me and didn’t even get anything out of the chance I took? What would I do with all that guilt without anything to counterbalance balance it? I've made my choice, Eobard. Let me have this. The shit I'm going through isn't your problem.”

"I beg to differ; you're using me as a coping method, Barry."

"Better you than drugs or alcohol, Eobard."

He took a moment to process everything Barry had said, gaze searching for any sign of doubt in the other’s eyes. Finding none, he let go of the Flash’s shoulders, cupped the back of Barry’s head with one hand, tilted his chin up with the other, and pressed a kiss to those plush lips. Barry sighed into his mouth like a thing reborn, and Eobard felt some primal kind of complete that scared him beyond words. The second he got out of here, he’d stop kissing the Flash like this, he promised himself.

“Okay, Flash, then make me feel good.” And Barry - with exactly no hesitation - deepthroated Eobard’s entire cock in one swift downwards motion.

And Eobard screamed.

To say it had been too long since Eobard had been on the receiving end on one of these was an understatement - if memory served the last time he’d gotten one was back when he was still living with the Future Flash, sometime early in the relationship, even. He was pretty sure they’d been fucking on their first couch, a couch which had lasted little over a month with the way they had so eagerly abused it. As Barry swallowed and sucked around Eobard’s cock he held himself steady with a hand on Eobard’s hip, and another high on his thigh, just over the cuts there. Most of the weight was on his hip, but Barry took sadistic delight in occasionally squeezing the battered leg and watching the way it made Eobard writhe beneath him. Eobard was already struggling to breathe, and Barry was so smug he could see it in the corners of those green eyes.

And while he was glad Barry was enjoying himself, he could not allow Barry to make such a mess of him without returning the favour. “Y’know,” he grunted, voice tight. Damn, this was going to be hard, “You never did ask me how any of these scars stuck.” He saw the other’s eyes light up at that, and Eobard was pretty sure they both knew where this was going now. It didn’t stop Barry from doing something fucking filthy with his tongue, though.

“Shit, Flash. Fuck,” His brain scrambled to get back on track, and he licked his lips as he desperately tried to recall what he wanted to say, a flash of copper tingling his taste buds as he ran over the drying blood from the night’s earlier events. “How do you feel about collars? Because,” he laughed breathily, or rather tried to, it was caught halfway up his throat by a moan when Barry decided to pop off his dick and lick one fat, wet stripe up the shaft, “Future you certainly loved them. God, I should have mentioned it earlier, don’t think you would have lasted the night if I did.” Barry moaned around his dick, and the vibrations shot through him. That was a yes to collars, then.

“Any time you cut something into me you were particularly proud of, or any time you were just in one of those moods, you’d pull out the Inhibitor Collar. Even by the standards of the time it was ludicrously over the top. A lock with DNA recognition and everything. Meant I was trapped without my speed unless you decided to take it off. Nothing healed. You fucking loved it. It was even decked out in your colours,” Eobard paused to moan as Barry began to suck at the tip of his dick something blasphemous, “Red and gold, I mean - with a fucking dog tag shaped like your emblem. The same emblem here," He said, as he tapped the brand over his heart, and felt Barry's teeth scrape the sides of his dick and the man swallowed harshly around him, "It had my name on it and everything. You’d - oh God, Barry, - You’d use it to toss me around like a rag doll, it was thinner than the clunky pieces of shit you have in this time and there was just enough wiggle room that you could stuff your fingers under it and get a really good grip. You’d hold me down with it, or drag me across a room like a dog before yanking me to my knees so I could suck you off, never touching anything but that fucking collar,” Eobard could see Barry grinding his crotch against the floor like a bitch in heat, and the wanton display of need did something horrible to Eobard. In a hoarse whisper, he continued, “I’d be left with a halo of bruises around my neck from all the pulling. It was so fucking hot. I felt claimed, Barry, marked.” He felt himself bucking into Barry’s mouth, and the brunette had to pull off, spluttering. Eobard just made a noncommittal noise at him, and Barry growled in response.

“You shouldn’t be giving me those kinds of ideas if you’re just going to misbehave, Thawne.”

“You got a collar shoved up that tight ass of yours or something?” He barked.

Barry bit the inside of Eobard’s thigh before crawling off him, and Eobard made a desperate noise as the tried to pull the other man back. The Future Flash would often lock him up and leave him to rot halfway through sex, and that wasn’t a habit he wanted to start now. Thankfully, it seemed Barry had other ideas, because instead of leaving when he approached the door, he bent down, plucking his half-forgotten belt off the floor.

Eobard swallowed hard.

“What d’you say, Eo?” Barry shot a devilish glance back at the blond, “Look about your size?” Thawne just sat on the floor, aroused and shocked beyond belief. This was one of those moments where he could barely tell the difference between his Flash and this one.

The Flash strutted over to Eobard, spinning the belt in one hand absentmindedly, expression dark and eager. As he crouched down in front of Thawne, the blond leaned in, cupping the back of Barry’s head as he peppered the other’s face with kisses. “Flash…”

Allen leaned down, giving Eobard’s dick one harsh squeeze before speaking, “So eager and we’ve barely even started. God, I knew you were a submissive bitch, Thawne, I just didn’t think it was literal.” He finished off the statement by looping the leather belt around Eobard’s neck once, twice, before securing it in place. Barry punctuated the action with a sultry kiss, tongue slipping in and out of Eobard’s mouth before he could even respond. Leaning back, Barry caressed Eobard’s face and crooned, “You look so beautiful like this, Eo.”

And Eobard didn’t know which of the two statements turned him on more.

The weight of the collar was way too familiar to Eobard. In fact, it brought him back to the night’s earlier fantasies, where he’d tried to choke himself out in a desperate attempt replicate the memory of feeling so owned. It was a part of him he rarely admitted to, but this was Barry, and at the end of the day every version of Barry Allen was his, regardless of age or what the other man may think. While this makeshift excuse for a collar certainly wasn’t the lavish, heavy thing inlaid with circuitry and pure gold in equal measure he was used to, he was no less proud to be wearing it, especially when Barry was looking at him like he was ready to eat Eobard alive.

Moving down to Eobard’s crotch, Barry whispered into the air, “I believe you were telling me a story.”

“Anything for you, Flash,” he moaned as Barry lapped at his balls, making the blond squirm uncontrollably. “Well, ah,” Eobard felt his face flush, “I didn’t just wear it in the bedroom. You’d make me wear it outside - on dates, to work, just around the apartment, anything so long as you’d knew it was when I’d notice the unfamiliarity of the feeling. And it’s not like you would tell me when you were doing it, you’d just… leave it on, like you forgot I was wearing it. But you knew,” he gasped, “You knew. But your favourite thing was when I had a lecture coming up, you’d absolutely ravish me the night before, an absolute filthy fuck, even by our standards, and send me off the next day, knowing exactly why I was lipming and wearing a turtleneck in the middle of fucking August. Knowing that in a few short hours I’d be lecturing in front of 500 students, each of whom probably already suspected that there was something going on given by the bags under my eyes and the sweater alone really got you going. They might not have known shit about quantum field theory but they knew when the professor had been fucked out of his mind the night before!”

He could feel his balls tightening already, and swore under his breath, and he felt Barry give his cock one final suck before pulling off.

“Change of plans, slut. On your back, now.” Eobard whimpered openly at that, knowing exactly what was coming next. Once down, Barry lunged on top of Eobard, growling like a wild animal as he sunk teeth into Eobard’s neck. “You’ve been winding me up with that fucking story, you wanted me like this.” ‘This’ was elaborated upon by Barry grinding his clothed, rock hard member into the hollow where his hip met his thigh. And damn it if that hadn’t been the intention it was now.

“Maybe,” he laughed.

“Bastard,” Barry snarled, haphazardly kicking his pants off before dragging Eobard into a kiss by the collar, the belt digging into the back of his neck was sure to leave marks, and he moaned at the thought, slinking fingers into the Flash’s hair as their tongues tangled.

Unsatisfied with just kissing, Barry shoved Eobard’s shoulders hard, and the blond’s head cracked against the floor painfully. However, that was quickly forgotten when Barry plunged into his ass with no prep, and Eobard heard himself scream like it was a stranger’s, didn’t even feel his mouth open to make the noise. Above him, Barry was groaning next to his ear, breath laboured and harsh as the other man struggled to adjust to the tightness around him. Eobard felt Barry’s cock twitch and throb inside him, and in turn his walls fluttered around the other man.

“You’re so fucking tight, Eo.” He had half a mind to tell Barry that that was his fault for not preparing him, but why rain on the other man’s parade when the feeling of being ripped in half was something divine. He’d been struggling not to come before, but this was something unreal.

“You can move,” he gasped.

“Ah- okay.” Even through his lust-addled haze the way Barry’s eyebrows were knitted together told Eobard that the other man wanted to ask him something.

“What is it, Flash, I’m not going to last much longer with my ass throbbing like this.”

“Wha- Ah, right, masochist. Eo, if I- If I pull on the collar like this,” he looped his fingers around one of the two layers created by the belt and yanked, abruptly cutting off Eobard’s airway, “Is that okay?”

Eobard was struggling to do little more than not come immediately, much less answer questions. However, he was able to reason that considering how amount of control the collar had given Future Barry had turned him on like nothing else, giving the same to this younger version would be no different. That, and whatever the hell Barry had just done was making everything very fucking hot right now.

“Fuck yes.”

“Good. Tap me thrice if it’s getting too much.” Eobard nodded frantically, writhing beneath Barry. His skin felt like it was on fire and he just wanted to come so badly. But he knew the Flash wouldn’t let Eobard come until he had, or unless otherwise ordered. So he endured.

And he was rewarded.

Barry jackknifed into Eobard like a man possessed, pulling the blond into a bruising kiss with the collar, making Thawne squirm and gasp for air as he did so, whimpering into the other’s mouth. The Flash was moaning Eobard’s name into his ear over and over, and it became a mantra to the foggy brain of the Reverse, who had begun to buck back onto Barry, forcing down a scream every time the other’s dick hit his prostate. His lungs were burning like he'd swallowed fire and his neck was throbbing around the belt, pressure so intense that Eobard was sure it had already bruised. The world around him was going glassy, though, as hot as it was, and he could feel his thoughts beginning to go hazy. He knew his movements were slowing, but he didn’t feel quite ready to tell Barry to let up for air just yet. He didn’t want to seem weak in front of the other man. Unfortunately, that choice was taken away from Eobard and he felt oxygen return to his lungs at the same time he felt nails clawing down his back.

“F-fuck, Eobard, I’m so close, don’t know - ah, God, shit! - how you held on so long.” Eobard was confused at that. Their normal rules were that Eobard wasn’t allowed to come before the Flash, he didn’t remember discussing anything different with the brunette this time. He wasn’t left wondering for long, however, because shortly after Barry was coming deep in his ass with a shout, hot fluid pooling inside him as Eobard groaned, grinding out the last few thrusts from the other man as they came to a stuttering halt, both gasping for breath for entirely different reasons.

Barry flopped down beside Eobard, cock still deep in his ass as the brunette moaned absentmindedly. Eobard would admit that he was a little disappointed that Barry had the same tendency to leave him to get off on his own that the Future Flash did. However, it wouldn’t be the first time he was left alone to tend to his needs and it certainly wouldn’t be the last either. Beside him, he heard Barry make a deflated sounding noise, and he peeked open his eyes to see why the other man was upset. Barry’s face was riddled with something akin to disappointment, and Eobard felt fear latch onto his heart. Had he been that bad tonight? He’d managed to get Barry off despite the lack of knife play, but that didn’t mean it hadn’t been unsatisfactory…

Noticing his gaze, Barry pulled out of Eobard with a pop, and Eobard had to suppress a shuddering moan. He didn’t know how this younger Barry would react if he found out Eobard had enjoyed their coupling more than he had. Because Eobard had enjoyed it, a lot. In the future, when Eobard did well the Future Flash would shower him with praise, even if it was his twisted definition of praise, but praise nonetheless. And if he hadn’t done well... To put it simply, it was very easy to tell when Eobard had disappointed his partner. But that was familiar, at least. He didn’t know what this awkward silence that had befallen them meant.

He heard a soft whine come from Barry, before the other spoke, “You didn’t finish...”

“What?”

Barry trailed a hand down Eobard’s abdomen, biting his lip before stopping just above the base of his dick. Eobard had to bite his cheek to keep from begging for the Flash to get him off before he left. Unless they weren’t done? And Barry wanted to go another round? He was almost scared to let himself hope. “I- Can I get you off? I’m sorry if the sex wasn’t good, I thought we were both enjoying ourselves but I guess I must’ve misread something because you’re still hard and-”

“What? Barry, no, the sex was amazing I just - you didn’t say I could come. So I guess I just thought…”

Barry was staring at him dumbfounded, and if Eobard hadn’t felt like crawling into a hole any dying in it already he sure as hell did now. “I’m such a fucking idiot, Eobard. I forgot! God how could I have forgotten that’s unbelievable. I mean…” Barry sighed, frustration ebbing, and eyes growing kind, “Oh, Eo, I’m sorry. You must’ve thought I was just going to leave you here to deal with this alone,” On that last word he slipped Eobard’s still-leaking cock into his grip, nuzzling Eobard’s shoulder as he did so.

He was tempted to tell Barry that it wouldn’t be surprising if he had been left to his own devices, but he figured the Flash could go and break his own heart in the future. That and he was too damn happy to find out that he hadn’t colossally screwed up to do anything that might upset the Flash. A soft gasp came from deep in Eobard’s chest as Barry’s calloused hand wrapped itself around his dick, the tight warmth feeling around his aching member was something religious. Now that Eobard knew Barry had wanted him to finish with the other man he was desperately making up for lost time, gyrating his hips in the Flash’s grip, whining softly.

“As hot as you look right now, do you have enough energy in you for one last game?”

Eobard refocused at that, “Depends - ah - what do you want me to do?”

Barry’s eyes went dark, and he gave the collar a harsh yank, pulling Eobard close to his face, “Beg.”

Eobard felt his dick jump, and he nodded frantically. The Flash broke out into a sultry grin, rolling on top of Eobard, pinning him down, “Then beg, bitch.”

He whimpered at that, desperately bucking for some kind of friction, only to find that the Flash was most definitely sticking to his guns. Barry put a firm hand on his shoulder, and the one already around his dick became a cock ring and a trap. The traitor.

“Please, Flash, I want- I need to come,  please .” Barry made a low rumbling noise from above him but otherwise there was no movement from either of the confining hands. Whimpering, he tried again. “ Barry - ah - haven’t you teased me enough already? I’ve been so good for you. I took everything you gave me and then some,” Eobard felt his own fingers looping around the collar and tugging, and into his blond hair and pulling. Fuck. He needed to get off, “I even milked your cock for you. I did good, didn’t I? I’m so close. So close. Flash, please. Please. I need it.” He was practically sobbing by the end of it, and his hips were twitching every which way, desperately trying to get some form of friction. His hard-on was painful and throbbing like a bruise.

The Flash shifted where he hovered over him, adjusting his weight ever so slightly, before leaning down to kiss Eobard’s temple, “You’re so pretty when you beg, Eo. But… there’s a slight problem… I don’t know what you really want.” As if the statement alone wasn’t maddening enough, the brunette punctuated it with a harsh roll of his hips against Eobard’s crotch, and he nearly sobbed at the sensation. This was torture. “What do you want, Eo?” Barry’s green eyes were hooded, and the other man was so clearly loving every minute he had this power over him, but Eobard had his release in his sights. That question was a familiar one, he knew how to answer it. He’d never been more grateful for the similarities between this Flash and the Future Flash.

Eobard let his hands relax and fall to the sides of his head in a pose similar to surrender, before cocking his head just so as he half-lidded his eyes. “But that’s easy. I want you, Barry. I've only ever wanted you; I need you.” The way Barry bit his lip told Eobard everything he needed to know. “Please let me come, Flash, let me show you how much I need you. Please, Flash, please.” Barry swallowed hard, face flushed and obviously flustered. Every now and again it was good to be reminded that this was still an impossibly young version of the man he knew.

After a beat, he felt Barry peel his hands off his cock, and Eobard let out a shaky breath as he felt the deafening pressure leave. But he still hadn’t been allowed to come. Canting his hips at Barry he begged, “Just this once, can I show you how I feel, Flash? Please. You make me feel so good, Flash.”

Barry moaned and sank in for a kiss, pressing himself flush against the man beneath him, letting Eobard take his full weight as his tongue plundered the blond’s mouth. The slick slide of their lips distracted Eobard momentarily, and he found himself tangling his hands in Barry’s hair as they made out like love-struck teenagers. They remained like that for a few minutes, with Barry’s hands rolling down and over Eobard’s sweat-lined form as he traced the curves of the body below him. Their combined breaths had begun to grow shorter and ever more desperate when Barry finally pulled away and moved down to the other’s crotch. Even without his filthy imagination, Eobard could piece together where this was going.

“Don’t hold back,” Barry gasped, before taking downing Eobard’s entire shaft in a single motion. He’d used the same trick earlier in the night, but that didn’t make it any less hot.

“Flash, fuck!” He was deathly hard and his balls were aching something fierce, but he wasn’t ready for this to end, not yet. Instead, he guided his shaking fingers to Barry’s head and held Barry’s head in place, canting his hips lightly, “... Can I?” He hoped he was making sense. Barry just moaned around his cock - eliciting a hard gasp from Eobard - before making a very eager sounding noise. Eobard took the consent he saw and ran with it.

He held Barry’s head in place as he began to thrust slowly into the waiting heat there, occasionally stopping when he felt Barry gag, but periodically increasing in tempo as he built up to a punishing pace. His thrusts were sloppy, out of time, and Barry’s lips were a bright red where they were wrapped around his dick. The bottom half of the brunette’s face was nearly soaked with the precum and spit as it dribbled out of the abused mouth, and the sight was something heavenly. It was certainly doing things to Eobard’s twitching cock, fast approaching its completion as he fucked the Flash’s face. Occasionally, a muffled moan would come from below him, or Barry would squeeze his thighs encouragingly as he moved his tongue in just the right way get Eobard screaming. But no good thing lasts forever, and soon Eobard felt his balls clench painfully, and he whimpered at the feeling.

Untangling his fingers from Barry’s hair and slowing his thrusts he said, “Flash, I’m gonna… I’m so fucking close...” Barry just growled like an animal at that, sinking down to the base of Eobard’s cock before pulling off until he was just barely wrapped around the tip before repeating the motion over and over and over again, sucking off Eobard almost violently. It didn’t take long for Eobard to shout Barry’s name into the night air as he came down the brunette’s throat. Eobard was then blessed with the image of the Flash swallowing every drop of come he was given, before coming back for seconds as he licked the remains off Eobard’s softening cock.

“Where the fuck did you learn to do that, Allen?”

Barry laughed, mouth wet and shining as he smiled broadly, but with no small amount of mischief. “College was an absolutely wild ride, Eo, let’s put it that way.”

Eobard just shook his head, sighing, as he let his head roll back onto the concrete, breaths gradually steadying as he felt the first tendrils of sleep approach.