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Leonard Snart cannot be trusted to cook a meal. In the interest of equitable division of labor, this means he does a lot of dishes.
“You know you could go bother Mick,” he points out to Lisa, who’s sat at the kitchen island drinking something that probably started as apple cider and is now mostly whipped cream and caramel. Their next safe house isn’t going to have an island, he decides. It only encourages Lisa to lounge like this while he does dishes.
“Mick is watching sportsball,” she complains.
“And watching me do dishes is that much more exciting?” Leonard turns around to set a plate on the drying rack. He catches a glimpse of yellow lightning in the next room. The next second, he’s surrounded by yellow sparks, dancing along his skin and lighting up every nerve ending. Barry is in front of him, grinning, with a hand on his arm.
“Barry.” Leonard sets the plate aside and goes to turn off the water. When he turns, he sees the water stream motionless. The droplets splashing up from the dirty pot are moving through the air at a fraction of a millimeter per minute, if that. It’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen. “What are you doing?”
“I brought you into Flashtime with me!” Barry beams, pink-cheeked and tousle-haired. “This is how I experience the world when I move fast. I don’t really have time to be here, but also I wanted you so I’m making time by making us move really fast together. I – oh hi –”
Leonard grabs two handfuls of Barry’s red-leather-clad ass and hauls him in for a kiss. He can’t resist when the kid is all rambly and rumpled. “Hi,” he purrs, before silencing any further rambling with a heated kiss.
More of those brilliant yellow sparks dance between their skin. Leonard has never done drugs, but this is the closest feeling he can imagine – every sensation is amplified, bright and overwhelming. He can feel the thrum of Barry’s heartbeat under his lips as he kisses his way down the kid’s neck. Can feel every minuscule imperfection in the fabric of the kid’s suit. Can feel his own heartbeat pounding in his ears as he gets more turned on with every bit of Barry’s skin he tastes.
“I need you out of this suit, Scarlet,” he growls.
“Oh fuck.” Barry sounds wrecked and they’ve only been kissing. Leonard picks him up and goes to plop him on the counter. In doing so, he sees Lisa partway through a sip of her cider, still staring at the now-forsaken sink, and freezes.
“Can she see us?”
“Huh?” Barry blinks a few times. Leonard almost forgets his question in favor of the urgent need to kiss the kid senseless again. “Oh, no, she’s not in Flashtime with us. We can do whatever we want and she’ll just see my lightning go by.”
Appeased, Leonard goes back to sucking a bruise into the tender skin under Barry’s jaw. He settles Barry on the counter and slots in between his spread thighs like a lockpick.
“Am I gonna send you running back to your team with come in your suit?” He pulls Barry forward so that he’s grinding against Leonard’s belly. Screw taking their clothes off. He wants to wreck this red-leather kink suit.
“No because I can take a cloth to myself at superspeed,” Barry mumbles. When Leonard squeezes his ass, he starts rutting like a horny puppy, grinding between pressure on his cock and Leonard’s bruising grip on his bottom. “The suit is gonna get some…fuck, fuck...interesting readings though.”
“I bet.” Leonard pushes open the front of the suit just enough to get his mouth on a cluster of freckles at the top of Barry’s sternum. One of these days, he’s gonna lay this beautiful boy out on a bed of crushed velvet like he’s some stolen gem, and he’s gonna map every inch of his freckled skin with his tongue. Another day. For now, they get a kitchen counter and hastily shoved-aside clothing.
“Ohhh god oh god…” Barry’s eyes flutter half-closed. “I wanna make you f-feel good too…”
“You do,” Leonard promises in between heated kisses. This is better than orgasm, better than being touched. Getting to drag reactions out of the kid, at superspeed, surrounded by those beautiful hypersensitive sparks, is the best pleasure he can imagine.
Barry keeps rutting against his belly. His gloved hands grab frantically at any part of Leonard he can reach – his back, his arms, his ass. Never for long, though; they have to go back to roaming, like being still hurts. Leonard huffs a laugh into his neck. Good to know they both want to crawl into each other’s skin.
“Come on, Scarlet, I wanna see you,” he urges. His fingers dig into Barry’s hips bruising-hard, pulling the kid forward until they’re flush against each other.
Barry comes with a rising cry. Leonard’s instinct is to smash their lips together to muffle the sound, but he doubts it’ll sound like anything to anyone outside of Flashtime. Fuck, the perks of this kid’s power.
Barry’s head drops onto his shoulder, warm and tousled and heavy. He stays there for what Leonard wants to call a minute, but is probably a matter of milliseconds. “Your turn.”
Apparently, the kid can still vibrate in Flashtime. His hand slips between their bodies, vibrating insistently, pressing just firm enough to have Leonard right on the edge. The kid’s teeth sink into his lower lip, his vibrating ramps up…
Leonard comes with a gasp. (Not a cry, although Barry has frequently declared his intent to get him to be louder with his pleasure.) He falls forward and braces himself on the counter.
...The counter. Not Barry’s body.
At first, he mistakes the rushing sound for his own pulse in his ears. Then he realizes he can hear the water running again. With a sinking feeling, he glances up.
Lisa’s eyes are wide. “Did I miss something, dearest jerk?”
Leonard drops his eyes back to the counter and finds a note scribbled on a scrap of paper: Call this payback for all the times you’ve broken into STAR Labs for sex and left me to explain to the team. Have fun!
“...No,” he lies, pocketing the paper. Barry is going to pay for this when (if) Leonard catches him.
“Uh huh.” Lisa lounges back on the barstool and makes a show of draining the last of her silly sugary cider. “Tell your little red menace to make sure to face you away from me in the future if he’s gonna breeze in for a booty call.”
“Like you can talk,” Leonard shoots back. He can think of half a dozen times he’s walked in on Lisa and a Rogue, such that he doesn’t know which to use as an example.
Color rises in Lisa’s cheeks. “I didn’t know you would be back so quickly!”
Cute, that she thinks he’s just talking about the most recent time (her and Shawna on the couch in a different safe house, two weeks, three days, and five hours – not long enough – ago). “Yeah, one time. I think you can finish the dishes, trainwreck. You’ve been sitting on your ass while I do all the work.”
Lisa flounces up out of her seat and complains, “Yeah, well, like I want your hands on the dishes right now anyway.”
Leonard could snark back, or he could take the victory. He elects to escape the kitchen while he can and plot vengeance on the little red menace in private.