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Drunk On You (Cause it Definitely Isn't the Alcohol)

Summary:

After Eobard reveals the true extent of his past relationship with Hartley, Barry seeks Hartley out to see if he can raise the other man's spirits... and winds up finally pushing them both from idle flirting to something a great deal more serious.

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"Well," Hartley said once Barry sat down beside him, "that was humiliating."  There was a tremor in his voice that made it sound like he was either a step away from crying or in the tears stage already.  Though given how he was pointedly looking away, Hartley was probably crying at least a little and just didn't want to admit it.

"I'm sorry it came out like that.  He's an asshole," Barry offered, not really sure what else to say.  It honestly hadn't occurred to Barry that any of the enmity between Hartley and Harrison - or Eobard, keeping the guy's actual name straight was still a work in progress, though if he could remember his first college ex's name was Josh these days without a problem then clearly it was the 'murdered his mom' aspect of the whole thing that was blowing up Barry's brain - was because Hartley'd not just lost his job and his friend when he tried to do the right thing.  He got fucked over by the guy he'd been in love with.

Cisco and Caitlin had seemed surprised, but not... not shocked.  So clearly they'd known there had been a possibility... at least realized Hartley had a thing for Harrison Wells back in the day even if they hadn't thought it was reciprocated.  

Hartley finally looked over at Barry, giving him a bewildered stare.  And, yeah, the guy was slow crying with his face all blotchy.  "You just found out I used to be screwing the guy who murdered your mother and... that's your takeaway?"

Barry shrugged.  "I mean... aside from Joe, Iris, and Eddie... who among us didn't crush on the guy at one point or another?"  And that had been one of the most sickening parts, for Barry.  That he'd crushed on the guy who'd murdered his mother.  Science crush, romantic crush... at least he didn't have a sexual crush on the man.  One of the perks of being demisexual, though knowing he'd had romantic little fantasies about the man who'd murdered his mother had still left him feeling physically ill.

The choked noise that came from Hartley at hearing that declaration was somewhere between a barked laugh and a pained sob.  Clearly he realized the implications of Barry's off hand comment.  "Wow, that's... messed up."

"Picking a guy who was hot as well as a genius to murder and replace was probably deliberate on his part.  Just another way for him to manipulate people.  If his intellect didn't do the trick then showing off those arms in tight shirts would," Barry joked.  Or tried too.  His voice choked up a bit on him too.  "Though he could be charming.  When he wanted to be.  When making someone else feel special furthered his aims."  Like he'd done with them both.

Hartley sniffled and snorted in amusement.  "True.  Though the arms thing makes way too much sense.  Had to offset that prickly personality of his somehow.  Not that I've got room to throw stones there.  Probably the nicest description Ramon's ever given me is 'porcupine in human form' and for good reason."

"Porcupines are cute, though I don't think that's what Cisco was going for."  Barry, hesitantly, reached out to gently touch Hartley's shoulder.  Just leaving his hand there to test the waters of 'was this okay'.  And it was probably a testament to how not okay Hartley was, no doubt, that he leaned into Barry's touch instead of shying away.

"So, Central City's bright red super hero is... bi?  Diversity win," Hartley said, clearly trying to change the subject.  For all that Barry'd flirted back some when Hartley flirted with him these last few weeks, this was probably the first time Barry'd confirmed himself as not straight in Hartley's hearing.

"Well, bi and demisexual so I'm probably a posterboy for oblivious ace half the time," Barry admitted, figuring he might as well come out all the way.

"Twice the diversity win, you've got multiple labels going on," Hartley decided.  "I would have preferred none of you knew about my shitty dating decisions," he added in a quiet, small voice.  "And of course he used telling you all to score shock points."

"Oblivious ace, here.  I'm shocked by everything, but only once," Barry said, mostly in hopes of getting a laugh.

It's a startled noise, but the sound that exits Hartley's mouth is still distinctly a laugh.  "And how often intrigued after the shock wears off."

"Not always, but fairly often."  Barry enjoyed sex.  And a lot of kinky things he'd tried, both of the sexual and non-sexual varieties.  When he was actually paying attention to flirting, he enjoyed the attention.  Hartley, in turn, seemed to at least enjoy flirting as a way to take back control of uncomfortable situations.  So if Hartley wanted - or needed - someone he could be flirty with right now... Barry did not mind being that person.  And, well, if Hartley wanted someone to be more than flirty with... but that was likely wishful thinking.  Even if part of Barry was kind of hoping for that very scenario.

"Oh really?" Hartley looked amused.  "You're a nice guy Barry."

Barry sighed and shook his head.  "Not as nice as I probably ought to be."  He wrinkled his nose.  "What I wouldn't give to be able to get drunk after all of this."

Hartley's eyebrows climbed.  "I guess with your metabolism most alcohol is just another drink that tastes bad.  Though you're not the only one who can't get drunk around here.  I used to be an adorable, happy drunk on the occasion I'd drink enough to qualify.  Now I go straight from slightly tipsy to minor migraine.  All the hangover with none of the fun."

"I do make a mean virgin margarita and daiquiri," Barry offered, only somewhat joking.  "What do you say to getting out of here and going somewhere less depressing.  With a blender."  He stood up and offered Hartley a hand up.

The other man hesitated for a moment and then took Barry's hand.  "Sure.  Do I get another ride on the Flash express to wherever we're headed?"

Barry waggled his eyebrows.  "Only if you want to."

Smirking, Hartley stepped forward and wound his arms around Barry's shoulders.  "Well then.  What are we waiting for?"


Barry knew Joe's kitchen was well stocked with supplies for the non-alcoholic drinks and a blender that was relatively new, given that the old one had apparently died on Iris a little over a year ago when she'd been making what she'd described to Barry as a pity-party grasshopper smoothie.  Milk, ice cream, thin mint girl scout cookies, and a dash of mint liqueur - all apparently gone to waste and lamented even months later when relating the story to Barry. 

At the time, Eddie was there too.  So Barry had turned to the guy and asked, mock solemnly, if Eddie was aware of the curse on Iris.  Over her spluttering indignation, Eddie had nodded with a smile he was trying to hide and mused that he might have noticed that after what happened to his toaster.

He thinks he knew, then, that Iris had found a good one in Eddie.  That if he'd ever had a chance with Iris... he didn't anymore.  It took too long for him to accept that, but... he was glad Eddie had proposed to Iris and that she'd accepted.  Joe was being an ass about it, but he'd see what Barry did in time.

Iris was happy with Eddie.  Radiant with joy, even.

And Barry had to find his own happiness elsewhere.

But for now he was distracting both himself and Hartley.  With a flourish, Barry set out the first of the virgin strawberry margaritas.  "Cheers," Barry said, clinking their glasses together.

Hartley took a taste test and then drank a little deeper with a grin.  "Oh that is good."

"Thank you."  Barry grinned enjoying the way Hartley visibly relaxed.  It was a lemon-lime base with strawberry mix and it still went perfect with salt on the cup rim.

"So, bartender," Hartley drawled, "what were you like as a drunk when alcohol could still affect you?"

"Overgrown puppy drunk," Barry admitted, ducking his head and blushing.  "And a little horny."

"Ohoh, tell me more."  Hartley grinned, eyeing Barry appreciatively. 

"Admittedly, I was not great at holding down a relationship.  Too focused on getting my degrees and a little too obviously in love with someone else."  Barry shrugged as Hartley nodded, all too aware like everyone else just how hung up on Iris Barry was.  "But when I was dating someone, it was fun to have someone I could trust to let go with and just... be silly and clingy and have ridiculous drunken sex with.  If I wasn't dating someone, I preferred any hookups I'd have to be sober instead.  I guess because I knew, ahead of time, who I was consenting to sex with when I was dating someone.  Not so much when I was single."

"Barry Allen, making good choices.  Why am I not surprised."  Hartley looked pensive.  "I had a few drunken hookups during college.  I was still closeted, so if I wasn't drunk then I'd be too tense and uptight and terrified of it getting back to my parents that I was sleeping with guys to really let myself have what I wanted.  And Catholic guilt playing into shit, no doubt."  He downed half his margarita and then shuddered.  "Ugh, brain freeze."  He sighed and shook his head.  "Of course, the downside was that, on occasion, I'd wake up hungover next to someone I'd have rather not slept with.  And then I'd have to walk-of-shame my way back to my own dorm and hope I hadn't lost any of my clothing or my keys somewhere along the way the night before.  And spend way too much time being paranoid about pictures from the party or after the party or... didn't exactly help me learn to like myself."

"Your parents suck," Barry told Hartley firmly.  He came around the counter and settled beside Hartley.  "I actually met them at a crime scene not too long ago."

"When I shattered their building's windows?" Hartley asked.

"No.  Before that.  Snart and Rory stole some painting from them.  They set it on fire and posted a video of it on youtube afterwards.  Which, uh, did not engender a great response from them towards the detectives working the case," Barry said, setting his drink aside and pulling out his phone.  When he found the video - still up on youtube for all that the original post had been taken down not long after it went up - Barry passed it over for Hartley to see.  "Knowing what I do about them now that I didn't then, all I can think is that it couldn't have happened to a more deserving pair of homophobes."

Hartley snorted in amusement and then replayed the video.  "That is cathartic to watch.  Truly.  Thank you."

"You're welcome."  Barry smiled ruefully.  "So after you came out, did at least some things get better for you?"

"Well, confirming by belief that my parents would disown me sucked.  But I was financially independent at that point, so it didn't bring my life crashing down around me the way it would have before then."  Hartley made a soft humming noise as he thought and then distracted himself with more of the margarita.

Barry slowly worked on his own drink, letting Hartley settle his thoughts and decide whether to share them or not.

"I finally got a boyfriend, which would have been nicer if he hadn't turned out to be emotionally abusive.  Took me longer than it should have to admit things were bad with him.  Things were better with Chip.  Firefighter I dated for over a year."

"Hence your thing for guys in red leather?" Barry teased.

"Oh, definitely.  Role-played the grateful rescuee who'd do anything to thank the hot and sexy firefighter with him more than a few times and I did so enjoy getting on my knees for him when he was in that uniform.  When he wasn't too, but there was an extra thrill when he was."  Hartley grinned impishly while Barry felt his face flush.

It was hot imagery, but probably for different reasons for Barry than it was for Hartley.  He'd tried to explain a few times how getting turned on by sexual imagery didn't mean he was suddenly allo to others before and, well... allos never really seemed to get how it wasn't inherently tied to experiencing sexual attraction.  Suffice it to say that the right imagery - be it spoken, written, or visual - still made Barry's brain spark with the desire for sex itself, but that didn't mean he was suddenly feeling attraction to a specific person.

Sort of how the right kinks made his brain go 'brrrr' too.

"But that breakup got messy.  His ex came back and apparently everything we had together meant nothing with her around and... I rebounded with Harrison Wells.  Worst mistake of my life.  Especially since I was stupid enough to fall in love with him too."  Hartley finished his drink.  "Another, barkeep," he drawled, pointedly not looking at Barry.

Barry just poured him the last of the virgin margarita from the blender without comment.  He waited for Hartley to settle a bit, before saying, "the guy I dated last year of grad tried to steal my masters thesis."

"What?" Hartley looked over at him, horrified.  "What happened?"

"He broke into my laptop.  Stole all my work.  How he thought he'd get away with that when we had the same thesis advisor..."  Barry shook his head.  "I was very lucky my advisor went to bat for me.  He hated plagerists and cheats, so it wasn't really about me.  And I did get my masters degree in forensics on time, despite the setback and the heartbreak.  And what were definitely a couple of ill advised drunken hook ups that, since I didn't like that kind of thing to begin with, really only made me feel worse.  And because my friends were also his friends there was a lot of side taking.  And because he spoke up first... most of them took his.  Even when it was proven he stole my work... they didn't want to believe me because they liked him better.  I became that awfully, shitty twink who ruined a good man's career before it began and damn the facts.  Coming back to Central City after that was always my goal, but I came back with trust issues and then one of the first things that happened after I started work at the CCPD was I caught a detective forging evidence.  Didn't win the standoffish CSI who's father was in prison for murder any friends on the force, that was for sure.  Impressed the hell out of Captain Singh, at least, when I stood by my findings and was vindicated by IA."

"Ouch," Hartley muttered, shaking his head.  "People suck."

"Some people do indeed."  Barry finished the last of his own drink and went to make a new batch in the blender.  "But not everyone."

"You don't, I guess," Hartley drawled.  "But don't try to be polite and say I don't suck.  I tried to take out what happened with Harrison on you.  I suck for that."

"And then you admitted you were wrong and helped the rest of us see Harrison Wells for who he really was.  So all things considered, you don't suck anymore," Barry offered.

Blushing profusely at Barry's words, Hartley muttered, "unless you ask nicely, anyway."

Barry chuckled.  He'd expected something like that to come out of Hartley's mouth at some point.

"Relearning to trust after someone's let you down... it's not easy," Barry mused.  "And having to do it again and again is exhausting.  But maybe us not having to do it alone this time will help."

"Maybe."  Hartley swirled a finger through his margarita and then stuck it in his mouth.  Sucking on the finger.  Glancing up coyly through his lashes at Barry.  Releasing it with a pop that...

Squirming in his seat at what was clearly intended as sexual flirting body-language edition, Barry wondered at what point Hartley's flirting turned into something more serious.  They'd been flirting, rather harmlessly, for the last few weeks, to be fair.  Barry still wasn't certain just how much was Hartley flirting because he found Barry attractive and how much was intended to piss off Wells or annoy Cisco.  But there's no audience here now and their flirting has gotten a lot... dirtier.  And more honest.  

"Too bad we can't just let adorable drunk Hartley and overgrown puppy-drunk Barry take over for a little while.  Let us not have to deal with the latest speed bump in a long line of them."  Hartley gave Barry a sly smile and said, "certainly you're someone I could trust myself to be drunk with and to have fun going to bed with.  You can vibrate at will."  He sighed, wistfully, "just imagine all the dirty things I could have you put that skill to use with."

"Well, if these were full of alcohol and we were able to get drunk on them like we used to... I'd definitely be angling for a kiss.  See how interested you'd be in me.  Since I don't do sexual attraction myself, I can't always tell when someone is interested in me that way or not.  But if someone is interested in kissing me, that's usually a good sign," Barry offered.  "After all... drunk Barry is horny Barry too."

Hartley's cheeks flushed and his eyes darkened and... he watched Barry curiously.  "So does that make me someone you'd consent to having drunk sex with while still sober, then?"

"Yup," Barry drawled, popping the p.  And then he decided to just go for it.  He wants to have sex with Hartley and he's pretty certain Hartley wants that too.  They've both been so stressed lately and shared orgasms with someone they felt safe with would certainly be a fun way to work off that stress.  And if they both want something a little more permanent than stress relief afterwards...

Well... Barry might actually be in a good place for a romantic relationship this time around.  (Poor Linda.  She'd deserved better than Barry'd been able to give at the time...)

"If you were interested, I'd go for some sober sex instead though."

At that, Hartley inhaled sharply.  "You're... serious?"

"Very."

Pushing aside his drink, Hartley leaned forward and pressed his mouth to Barry's.  And, oh, kissing is always so nice.

Barry stood up, pulling Hartley up with him, so he could draw them closer.  Tentatively deepening the kiss as he did.  They both tasted of the margaritas and Hartley made these... delicious little noises as his hands fisted in the back of Barry's shirt.  And then Barry was the one who was moaning softly, appreciatively, as Hartley sucked at and then scraped his teeth across Barry's lower lip before their mouths parted.

They both dragged air into their lungs and gazed at each other speculatively... and then came together for another kiss.  And then another and another.

Carefully, Barry led them into the living room, to the couch where Hartley turned them around and shoved Barry onto the couch in order to climb atop him.  He loses track of pretty much anything but the feeling of Hartley pressing against him and the growing hardness between them and Hartley's mouth on Barry's own, though their mouths drifted as each was eager to kiss and taste each other all over.  It comes to a hazy end, however, when the pleasure buzzing inside Barry turns to vibrations and Hartley has to pull away to absolutely cackle with delight.

"Oh that feels so good," Hartley groaned, rocking his hips against Barry's and eliciting another moan from Barry's lips.

Barry shuddered and brought Hartley's hand up to his mouth, kissing Hartley's knuckles and fingertips and palm before descending to his wrist and slowly, inexorably, making his way to the crook of his elbow.  Hartley made breathless little whines with every kiss, grinding against Barry and winding his free hand beneath Barry's shirt to caress the skin beneath.

"Fuck."  Hartley drew out the word for a moment and then gave a little laugh.  "Might be a bit drunk after all."

"Placebo effect?" asked Barry, considering the pros and cons of taking Hartley's other hand from beneath his shirt and kissing it the way he had the first.

"Mmm... more like oxcytocin, endorphins, adrenaline, phenylethylamin, dopamine..." Hartley trailed off as Barry's mouth moved back to his neck.

"Serotonin," Barry added, barely breathing the word against Hartley's skin.  All those lovely, naturally occurring chemicals that happened during sex - or at least all the very sexualized kissing and touching like what they were doing now.  And maybe Hartley had a bit of a point, 'cause certainly Barry was having a good buzz those nice, feel good chemicals too.  It was all a little heady, like being just a bit drunk in the best way.

Hartley giggled.  And then clamped a hand over his mouth.  Barry pulled back and grinned, prompting Hartley to laugh again as Barry pried the hand away from Hartley's mouth.  It was the one that had previously been beneath Barry's shirt... which meant now he could do another trail of kisses that had Hartley sighing with want.

And of course that's when Barry's phone rings.  Still on the counter in the kitchen.  Playing Joe's ringtone.

He swore under his breath, making Hartley giggle again.  "I've got to get that.  It's Joe calling.  If he's headed home, we probably don't want him catching us on his couch."

Hartley nodded.  "Yeah."  He rolled off of Barry, panting a bit and looking more than a bit flushed.  "I've avoided ever having the experience of parents walking in on me with a guy - my parents or anyone else's - and I'd like to keep that record intact."

Barry took a moment to center himself, then ran to the other room to catch the phone before it went to voicemail.

"Hey Joe," he greeted.

"Hey, Bar.  I just wanted to check in on you.  I know today's talk with Thawne didn't exactly go as planned and you ran off pretty quick after, so..."

"I'm okay, Joe.  I was actually more concerned about Hartley, after what Thawne said."  He probably should have texted Joe, let him know that he wasn't just vanishing after Thawne's asshole behavior and... carrot and stick ploy.  Alter history, save Nora Allen, and Eobard Thawne will never bother Barry Allen again.  Barry just has to be willing to be responsible for destroying everyone in this timeline and replacing them with alternate versions of themselves.  If they're lucky.  And Barry can't do that.  Can't be responsible for playing god with the timeline or choosing who lives and who dies.  It's too close to Thawne's attitude about time travel for Barry to be comfortable adopting it himself.  It's one thing to reset a single day.  It's another thing entirely to reset fifteen years.

Even for his own mother.

"Oh, how's Rathaway holding up?  It was a shitty thing for Thawne to throw their history in his face like that."

Considering Hartley'd just been sighing from kisses and squirming with pleasure on Barry's lap... "I think he's gonna be okay," Barry drawled, smirking a bit to himself.

"Well, he's invited for dinner tonight if he wants.  I'm headed to the grocery store.  I was thinking beef stroganoff from scratch.  I could do with some stress cooking."  Joe's stroganoff was to die for and Barry was definitely not missing that.

"I'll let him know.  See you later."  Barry slid the phone into his pocket after ending the call and headed back into the other room.

"Not sure staying for dinner is such a great idea," Hartley muttered, fidgeting and not looking at Barry.  Which probably meant that more kissing and heavy petting and potentially sex were no longer on the table.  Unless Barry could help Hartley work through whatever was going through his head now.

"Joe likes to try to fix things.  And when he comes up against something that his words of dad-wisdom can't fix, he cooks.  It's how he shows he cares.  It's not about pitying you or anything like that.  It's... him saying he's here for you even if making sure you're well fed is all he can do for you right now."  It's not dad behavior that Hartley's used to, that's for sure, and Barry can see Hartley trying to figure out how that computes as Barry moved closer and settled back beside him on the couch.

"I'm not used to... someone trying to parent me.  Like a normal parent.  Mine... threw money at problems.  Never actually solved anything."

Barry nodded.  "Good food can help raise someone's mood."

"Or margaritas," Hartley drawled, drawing an unexpected parallel to Barry's own distraction and coping strategies.

"True.  But Joe isn't interested in seducing you like I am."  Barry grinned as Hartley rolled his eyes. "Look.  I spent years not really trying to move on from Iris despite knowing she'd never really feel the same.  Because in a lot of ways she was safe.  She was never serious about anyone before Eddie, so I was her favorite person.  And when someone broke my heart or used me like Dave the plagerist... it was okay, because I could tell myself I had feelings for Iris so I wasn't that invested.  Even though I was invested and I did get hurt and all it did was make me more afraid of taking risks with my heart even though I knew eventually Iris would break my heart too and I'd only have myself to blame when it happened."

"Because at least at that moment, you were still her most important person," Hartley filled in, slowly.  "Makes sense.  You're still her most important person, though.  You just have to share that position with Eddie now."

"Yeah.  I get that.  Makes it easier that it turns out her loving someone else doesn't mean I stop being important to her.  But I was an awful boyfriend to Linda while I was still figuring that all out.  I think I'm in a better place to be dating someone now and I really do like you and enjoy your company and I like the way you look at me when I do something you think is sexy."  Being desired was nice.  And Barry always felt a little bad that he couldn't reciprocate that exact kind of desire.  He's honestly not sure he'd have believed sexual attraction was a real thing in high school if he hadn't eventually felt that way about Iris in addition to the romantic feelings he'd had for her for ages.  He'd felt that way about one other person, maybe.  He wasn't sure and given their relationship ended because it turned out she'd been trying to 'fix' Barry made the whole thing more complicated.  And hurtful.  "And I don't feel like you're going to find me wanting even though I might never be sexually attracted to you."

"Who needs sexual attraction when there's 'horny' and 'trust' going on?" Hartley muttered, cheeks pinking.  Barry suspected he hadn't meant to say that out loud.

"Thanks," Barry drawled.  "That aside, I do know I'm not exactly ideal boyfriend material.  So if what we were just doing is as far as things between us go, I'm okay with that.  If you are still interested in sex with me, as a one time thing or as friends with benefits... I'd enjoy that a lot.  And if you'd be interested in dating, well... still scares me, taking that kind of risk.  Especially since I've had to give up pretending I have a safety net.  But dating you?  That's worth the risk to me.  As long as you're interested in taking that risk too."

"You really are serious about seducing me, huh?"  Hartley gave Barry a curious look.

"I think things through more than I get credit for.  When I can choose to perceive time as being hours for everyone else's minutes, it doesn't make sense not to take advantage of that.  But it does give the impression that I'm more impulsive than I actually am."  Barry shrugged.  "You've been flirting with me a lot these last few weeks.  I've had plenty of time to consider how I feel about that."

Hartley bridged the distance between them for another kiss.  More tentative than their previous kisses.  But somehow more sensual for it.  Barry leaned in for a moment as their mouths finally parted, chasing the taste of Hartley's mouth and the feeling of their tongues sliding together.

"I don't know what I want," Hartley admitted, pulling away.  Retreating in on himself.  "If I've learned anything over the years... it's good things don't last.  And I have a tendency to self sabotage.  I'm as afraid of screwing this up myself as I am of you turning out to be just the next in a long line of people who want someone else and use me as a placeholder.  Whether it's my parents pretending I'm this idealized, straight, abled version of me or Chip realizing he never actually loved me because he was still in love with Ange or Harrison..." Hartley's voice cracked.  "Or Eobard fucking Thawne using me to keep his accelerator on schedule because you were all he cared about."

Hartley shuddered and leaned towards Barry when, carefully, Barry put a hand on his shoulder and slid it around to gently pet the hair at the back of the other man's neck.

"I don't want to turn around and realize that I'm just... using you to get revenge on him.  Again.  I know you now, Barry.  I don't want to be the one who hurts you."

"Well," Barry drawled hesitantly and then decided to just ask, "you weren't thinking of him while kissing me, were you?  I'd like to hope I'm skilled enough with kissing and groping to drive thoughts of anyone else out of that brain of yours.  Even if your thoughts do the equivalent of multi-threaded processing."

A choked laugh came out of Hartley's throat.  "How do you make a programming joke during a serious conversation like this?  And make it so damn cute?"

"I'm adorable," Barry deadpanned.

"Multi-threaded processing," Hartley repeated.  "I can't believe I'm going to sleep with you."

"Well, I mean, I want you to but you don't have to," Barry demurred.

"Oh I'm gonna."  Hartley sighed, expression... amused and guarded.  "I just... I need us to take the romance side of things slow."

"So no candle lit dinners with the best pasta from Opal City and roses just yet?" Barry asked dryly, only half joking.  He was a grand gestures sort of guy.

"I mean... not yet.  But that's... I like to be wooed.  To feel special..." Hartley's fingers traced idle fractals along Barry's thigh, creeping closer and closer towards the inseam.  "But that's too much for me to deal with right now.  Think you can be patient with me?  Because... you're worth taking a risk on too, Barry.  I just... I don't want you taking me being cautious the wrong way."

"I can do patient.  When it's important."  And Hartley was important to Barry.

Hartley leaned back over and kissed Barry again.  Slowly and thoroughly... climbing back onto his lap and pressing their bodies close again.  When he pulled away, panting, Hartley muttered, "okay so now I'm a little paranoid about Joe walking in on us.  Think we can take this back to my apartment now?"

Barry grinned.  "Absolutely."


The moment Barry came to a stop in Hartley's apartment - or close to, anyway - he was being pressed up against a wall while Hartley's mouth kissed along his jaw and neck and Hartley's hands tugged insistently at Barry's shirt.

Barry was in layers and Hartley made grumpy noises when Barry's shirt came off only to reveal the undershirt beneath.  Hartley let up just long enough to yank that shirt off too and to divest his own shirt before bringing their mouths and tongues back together, finally.

"So, aside from vibrating when sufficiently aroused," Hartley teased, panting against Barry's ear, "what other speedster secrets are you hiding?"

"I like getting hickies, but unfortunately I don't think that they last long anymore," Barry confessed.

"Mmm, that's a bit disappointing.  I'd love to see you wandering around, scandalizing Cisco and Caitlin at STAR Labs, with a hickey on your neck those shirt layers of yours can't cover."  Hartley started nipping and sucking at Barry's neck anyway.

"I'm more sensitive than I was before... not exactly a hair trigger but, I can't exactly guarantee I'll last long.  But... practically no refractory period so... trade off."  Barry's breath hitched as Hartley started teasing his chest, checking nipples first before ghosting around the skin for erogenous zones.

"Now that's a trade off in our favor, I think," Hartley murmured.  "Oh, I want to know how many times I can make you come in a night.  That's... we're having that experiment eventually.  Not tonight, but..."

Barry felt a little relieved Hartley didn't want to test that right now.  Not that he was uninterested in the idea.  He just... wanted today to be about having fun together.  "We're gonna have to talk kinks and safe words," Barry observed.

"Definitely.  Though, I've gotta know... are we both praise kink boys?"  Hartley looked up.  "Do you like being told how you're a good boy, Barry?  Because you are.  So good to me, Barry."

Barry flushed and whined a bit, hips jerking a little beneath Hartley hands.  "F-fuck."

Hartley undid Barry's zipper and then dragged his pants and underwear down to his ankles.  And then stared just a bit, licking his lips.  "Oh, I'm gonna enjoy taking that in my mouth later.  But right now, I want to ride you," Hartley stood back up.  "That work for you?"

"Y-yeah, that's... yes.  God, Hartley," Barry felt a bit chilled and exposed, being the only one totally naked.  Except for his ankles, but that was fixed easily enough by just... kicking off his shoes and clothes. 

"Oh don't lose all your capacity for speech yet, Barry.  I haven't even gotten started taking you apart yet," Hartley purred.  Then he stepped back and started unzipping the fly on his own pants.  "Bedroom's this way," he added, sauntering off down the hall.  "Coming?"

"Not yet, but I'll get there eventually," Barry muttered, getting an amused snort from Hartley as he followed after.


The afterglow is quite nice.  Barry snuggled against Hartley's shoulder and enjoyed the slight soreness in his limbs and ache of his hickies while they last. 

"You are spectacular," Hartley drawled, voice slurring just a little bit as he stroked Barry's stomach.  "All the benefits of a vibrator and all the fun of having someone hot thrusting underneath me."

Barry snorted in amusement.  "Felt just as good to me."  He stretched out and groaned softly.  "I needed that."

"Mmm.  Me too."  Hartley yawned and swirled his fingers a little lower.  "So, if I were to keep moving my hand lower..."

"I think if you look you'll see the answer rising already," Barry muttered, flushing.  "But I also think if we check my phone, wherever it's gotten to, there'll be texts from Joe telling us dinner will be ready soon.  And I'm starving."

"There have been several text notification noises from your pants in my hallway," Hartley confirmed, fingers moving a little higher for a moment before he pulled away to stretch out.  "I'm... actually pretty hungry too.  No idea how I'm supposed to look Joe in the eye when my ass is sore from screwing his son, though.  That's gonna be a novel experience.  I don't think I ever actually met any of my exes parents."

"Yeah, well, don't tell him we had sex and you'll be fine.  Even if he guesses, as long as he can maintain plausible deniability about his children being as virgin as those margaritas I made earlier..." Barry snorted in amusement.

"Right.  I totally tripped and landed right on my tailbone.  So painful," Hartley drawled and then sat up.  "It'd probably help if we showered first so we don't smell like sex."

"Yeah, it probably would..." Barry hesitated.  "How big's the shower in this place?"

"Sadly, not big enough for two."  Hartley got up.  "I'm gonna shower first.  See if you can find where all your layers got to and find out when he wants us over.  Go slow enough and I might be ready to step out of the stall so you can step into it."

"Sounds good," Barry agreed, sitting up slowly and grinning to himself even as Hartley disappeared out the door.

He had awesome, stress relieving sex which was just what he'd needed.  And he now had a boyfriend.  This was going to annoy so many people in Barry's life since the boyfriend was Hartley but, well... he'd meant what he'd said about being able to think things through so fast everyone thought he was being impulsive.  He'd considered the pros and cons of dating Hartley Rathaway a lot these last few weeks and... Hartley really was worth it.  Worth taking things slow with too.

Well, taking things slow aside from sex, anyway.  Hartley certainly seemed on board with having their sex life go full steam ahead.

And Barry was looking forward to seeing where things went as they figured out this relationship of theirs.

But for now, his main goal was finding out where things were with the stroganoff.  Which meant retrieving his clothes.  And perhaps while he was doing that he could also spend a little time contemplating just how many layers he could get away with wearing before Hartley tried to convince Barry to just vibrate through his clothes instead of peeling them off of him during sex...

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