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Lisa hung around for most of the following day, staying plastered to Len’s side at all times and Barry didn’t begrudge her that. He, too, found himself reaching out constantly just to make sure Len was still there and real. Len leant into the touch each time, chasing after it when Barry pulled away. Len saw her to the door and when he returned, he sunk bonelessly into the couch with a relieved sigh. Barry finished placing their glasses on the sink and returned the short distance to the living room. For a moment he just watched. Len’s head was lolled back on the couch with his eyes closed and his chest rose rhythmically with every breath he took. Barry closed the distance between them and placed his hand above Len’s heart, let it be moved up and down as Len’s lungs filled and emptied, and felt his heart beating strongly beneath his palm. Len looked at him quizzically as his hand moved upwards to cup Len’s face, thumb straying down to nestle in beneath his jaw where Barry could feel the blood pumping resiliently, pushing against him with each beat of Len’s heart. Barry closed his eyes and allowed that feeling to become a part of him, a memory to fight back against the nothingness that used to be there. Barry opened his eyes and licked the dryness from his lips. “I missed you.” Len was where he’d been, looking exactly as he always had. He hadn’t disappeared and his pulse still beat strongly. Barry let his hand fall away from Len’s face but for several moments afterwards he could still feel the incorporeal push of Len’s life against the pad of his thumb. “You didn’t even know I was gone.” “I did. Somehow. I’m sure I did.” A remnant of the dissonant and confused state he’d been in lingered with him. At the time it had felt like he’d always existed in that state. It extended out behind and in front of him, seemingly as endless as the horizon. Now that he was out of it, he could recognise it for what it was: an episode of madness and decay. “I knew something wasn’t right, I just didn’t know what.” “Well,” said Len, all the gravity of a secret in his voice, “I definitely missed you.” “You missed me,” Barry teased with a smile as he settled on the couch, one leg folded beneath him. They touched from arm to thigh, and Barry wound their arms together and lay his head against Len’s shoulder. “How embarrassing.” Len placed a kiss upon his forehead and pulled him closer. “You know I love you, don’t you?” “I love you, too,” said Barry, letting himself be held. Barry wished he could live in this moment forever. No fear, no uncertainty, nothing to do except exist here in the present with Len. He could forget about all the bad things that had happened and would continue to happen outside of these four walls. But it was that kind of insular thinking that had gotten him in trouble in the past, had destroyed the earth of an entirely different universe, had erased Len from existence. He’d never be able to avoid the bad so he just had to enjoy the good while it lasted. Barry shifted, turning and throwing a leg over Len’s lap so he was straddling him. Len was a solid weight against his chest as Barry looped his arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss. Tentative at first and then not at all – like dipping a toe into the bath and, finding the temperature perfect, sinking full-bodied into its depths without hesitation. To think he could have missed this and never known. The perfect way his and Len’s bodies fit together, how they moved so much in sync, cascading caresses like waves lapping the shore. To have never known this… It didn’t bear thinking about. Len was here now and that was all that mattered. With a hand fisted in Barry’s hair, Len tilted his head back and lathed kisses along his jaw and his neck before coming back to his lips. “Your hair’s gelled again,” said Len, not breaking away from the kiss, rubbing the words against Barry’s lips. The memory was recalled to Barry at Len’s remark: Len’s hands in his hair, so much like right now but, in others ways, so different. He’d been eager to please back then, not because he enjoyed pleasing Len for the sake of it as he did now but because he couldn’t stand to lose that one source of human affection he’d allowed himself after he’d fucked up so tremendously with everyone else. Len’s teeth paused in an open mouthed bite against his jaw when Barry asked, “Do you want me to wash it out?” Len’s hand in his hair tightened, a dull almost pain that registered as pleasure. “Don’t you dare go anywhere.” *** The sun dipped beneath the horizon and the streetlights flickered on without Barry moving from Len’s lap. They traded unhurried kisses and wandering touches for what felt like hours as the room progressed into darkness. “I still can’t quite believe that this is real,” Barry breathed between them, awe in his voice. There was a hum of temporal energy – foreign but familiar from exposure – that Len could still feel within his body. He could sense it leaving him, though. Already the vast knowledge he had been gifted being part of the entirety of space and time had slipped from him; as the streetlight stretched dull across Barry’s cheek, he had felt the last few grains cling to the drain before sliding back down to unknowing. Less and less he became preoccupied with the minutiae. Every second that passed, he was feeling more present in only this moment, not a thousand others stretching backwards into the past or forward into the future. “It is.” He cupped Barry’s face, felt the prickle of his unshaven cheeks. “I’m back and I’m not going again.” Len could see the words tumbling about in Barry’s head: You can’t promise that. He knew he couldn’t – not really. But Barry couldn’t promise him that he’d always be around either, not with the way he recklessly threw himself into danger without a care for his own safety. If they got into that argument, they both knew it was mutually assured destruction. Len watched as Barry swallowed it down, his face gentling as he relaxed back into Len’s embrace. “When you were gone,” he said, thumb tracing along Len’s bottom lip, “I regretted never having done so many things with you.” Len nipped at him playfully, soothing it afterwards with a kiss. “Is that so?” “Yeah.” “Like what?” Barry glanced briefly to the side, lip bitten between his teeth. He exhaled noisily. “Photos. I didn’t have a single photo of you.” He waited a second, braced for something. Len just ran his hands up and down Barry’s sides, the touch light, and took the moment to really look at Barry. His own recall was superb and he could draw Barry in his mind’s eye in precise detail. Would that fact have been enough to save his memories of Barry if their positions had been reversed? How horrific to think of losing that tightly held control over his own faculties and not be able to do anything about it. Len had never particularly liked being photographed – not since that first mugshot they’d made him stand for before they’d thrown him into juvie – but photos would be like footprints in sandstone, testaments to both of their existence long after either of them ceased to be. For the first time in his life, he was amenable – perhaps even eager – to be photographed. “That’s an easy one.” The quiet smile that overran Barry’s face finalised his opinion on the matter. “What else?” Barry shifted in his lap, made restless by nervous energy – as if Len could deny him anything he asked for in this moment – and Len’s hands slipped down to anchor his hips and keep him still. “I want you to know my friends. I don’t want this to be a big secret anymore.” Len hummed noncommittedly. One hand at the base of his back, the other supporting his neck, Len twisted Barry around and laid him down along the length of the couch, hovering over him on all fours. He nuzzled in under Barry’s throat and Barry’s breathe hitched. “I promise I won’t let Joe arrest you.” Len hid his laugh under Barry’s chin. “Maybe. What else?” “This.” Barry reached out with sure hands and pulled Len down on top of him, pressed flush along the length of them both, and punctuated the statement with a roll of his hips. He was hard enough to signal his intent. It wasn’t a surprise – Len’s own arousal had been at a simmer all afternoon – and yet it still took Len’s breathe away. Len groaned against Barry’s lips as he surged forward to kiss him. *** No one had ever loved Barry like Len loved him and that in itself was a rush. But when he pulled them closer, so tight it almost hurt, and ravaged Barry’s mouth like it was oxygen to a drowning man, Barry was overcome, pushed under the waves by the intensity of his own feelings. He felt so full, unbearably full, filled to the brim and overflowing with happiness and love for this man. He wanted to give him the world. But he didn’t have the world to give and so he tried to pour even a fraction of his feelings into the kisses and caresses. He wanted to give himself whole to Len, give him everything good he had to offer. Barry’s blood beat noisily in his ears, pushing heat through his body, and arousal pooled like a physical weight in his gut. He sucked in oxygen when he could but it seemed so irrelevant. Why did he need air when he could breathe Len’s lips forever? “I want you so bad.” When Len pulled away, his eyes were dumb with desire. “You’ve got me.” “Do you have anything? Condoms? Lube?” Len’s expression cleared, sobering. “I was gone for months time travelling. Then I technically didn’t exist.” “So that’s a no?” “That’s a no.” Len kissed him and his mouth was hard. “Okay. Okay.” Barry knew what he had to do. He just didn’t want to. If only he’d thought ahead when he’d got breakfast this morning, he could have been prepared now. “Well, just wait here a second.” “I’m not going anywhere.” Barry really didn’t want to go, though. He kissed Len for every centimetre he put between them until Len grabbed his forearm and held him still. He took a deep breath and then said, “Go.” Barry stole one last kiss and he was gone. The seconds it took to race from the apartment, to the nearest convenience store and back again felt like an eternity in which his precarious future with Len might be ripped away from him. When he got back, resuming his previous position astraddle Len’s legs, Len’s lips hadn’t even relaxed back into their normal wry grin from their last kiss. And as Barry settled back into normal time he heard the expression of surprise Len made. “I think I might have set a new PB.” “Yeah?” “Yeah.” “Fuck, I love you so much,” said Len, reeling him in. “You’re amazing.” The soft press of Len’s lips, the scratch of his whiskers, the heat of his body: Barry quickly slipped back into the comfort of Len. So he was startled when Len broke away suddenly from their kiss. "Did you steal these?" he asked, a sly smirk pulling at his mouth. "Why?” Barry bit his lip, being coy but also fighting off a smile. “Is that a turn on for you?" "It's practically foreplay." Len was laughing but there was a stiffness to his body Barry didn’t like and, even though Barry was in his lap, it felt like there was a bubble of personal space around Len, almost tangible. Barry realised suddenly that he was nervous and was floored by the discovery. As his brain caught up, though, it took Barry only a second to identify the likely cause. In fact, now that he took the time to think about it, it was fairly obvious and he felt ashamed that he hadn’t thought of it before. It was only a matter of putting together the things Barry knew about the world and about Len: Len had grown up during a very different time to Barry and in a very different world with different expectations. And to top it all off, he'd grown up with Lewis Snart as a father. Len didn't like to talk about him often, but when he did he gave Barry a very clear picture of who the man had been. Had Len ever had experience with another man? And if he had, had it ever been anything more than quick and ashamed, hiding from the machismo of the underground? Barry could guess what might make Len nervous and so he approached him slowly and kissed him deeply. "It's okay," he whispered between them. Trailing his hand down Len’s chest, Barry slid from the couch and to his knees. "Barry, I don't know if I can..." "It's fine, you don't have to. I want to do this for you." And then, in case Len still worried on this count: "I want you inside of me." *** Barry looked up at Len with such tenderness, it made him ache inside. “Can I take off your clothes?” Len didn’t trust his voice so he nodded. In a rare show of patience, Barry stripped Len slowly, relishing every new expanse of skin that was displayed, appreciating each scar or imperfection with a kiss. Len felt the urge to squirm under such attention but held himself still for Barry. He couldn’t understand the reverence that was shown to his body but he suffered it all the same. When Barry tugged at his pants, he canted his hips obligingly to let him slide them down his legs. When Barry pulled at his shirt, he lifted his arms to let Barry strip it off. When Len was naked, aching to cover himself, it was the admiration and naked lust in Barry’s eyes that stilled his hands. Barry, still fully-clothed, settled back on his haunches, hands coming to rest on Len’s thighs, teasingly close to his dick. “Is this okay?” Len nodded again. Barry’s touch was tentative at first, as though he was handling a small, easily frightened animal, and Len had to admit he did feel a little that way. He was tense, even though he knew there was no reason to be. Barry would never hurt him. He couldn’t help thinking ahead to what was coming next, though, and echoes from his past filled his head with vitriol. He knew he shouldn’t give them heed. His father especially was dead and six-feet under, a toothless spectre who had no power over him anymore. And yet… Barry took him into his mouth and Len hissed in air between his teeth. Fuck. It was almost too good. Len dropped his hand onto Barry head, buried his fingers into the thick hair. Barry looked up at him from underneath his lashes, mouth stretched obscenely around Len’s dick, and all the air went out of his lungs. Barry stilled and it took Len a moment to realise why. When he did, he tightened his hold in Barry’s hair and guided his head forward. Barry took everything he was given, his eyes never leaving Len’s. There was a look of pride in them, even when Len accidentally went a little too far and Barry choked around him, tears springing to the corner of his eyes. Len let his hand fall limp against his thigh soon after and Barry took control again, emboldened by his instruction. One hand stroked Len’s length as his mouth bobbed over his head. When Len felt his balls tighten, his orgasm threatening to creep up on him, he pushed Barry back and before he could let his nerves get to him, said, “Let’s go to the bedroom.” “Yeah,” said Barry, sounding dazed. “Yeah, let’s do that.” By the time Len grabbed the condoms and lube, Barry was already in the doorway to the bedroom, stripping as he walked and leaving a trail of clothing in his wake. He had that same unaffected casualness to his nudity that Len had seen and envied in him before. Len caught up to him when he had one knee already on the bed and couldn’t help wrapping his arms around him from behind, kissing his neck, where his hairline ended, just behind his ear, and Barry melted into his embrace, sighing happily. Len turned them and sat on the bed, echoing their former position on the couch: Len seated but this time with Barry in his lap facing outwards. He continued devoting attention to Barry’s neck and shoulders, his lips, too, when he could reach them, and while he did so, his hand ventured down to cup Barry’s hardness, to stroke him slowly as Barry writhed in his arms. “Enough,” said Barry, pushing his hands away and standing to face Len. Len was tickled by his bossiness. He grabbed a condom from where Len had dropped them on the bed, tore it open and knelt for the second time at Len’s feet. He looked to Len, waited for his nod, before putting it on him. Len could only watch in silent awe, amazed anew by how perfect Barry was. As Barry squirted a generous dab of lube onto his hand and slicked Len up with it, he asked, “Have you done this before?” “In a way.” Len might not have Barry’s powers of time dilation but he caught Barry’s expression change rapidly between confusion, understanding and embarrassment. An amusing reaction considering what they were about to do. Even funnier in light of the fact that Len had deliberately scheduled their first informal meeting after an appointment with Angie, a prostitute, to goad Barry. How far they’d come. He didn’t give Barry time to linger on this new piece of knowledge, though, pulling the boy to him to crush their mouths together. Already the anticipation was killing him, even as trepidation beat like blood through his system. He probably would have stayed kissing Barry for hours, hovering fear-struck on the precipice, except Barry pushed him back with a firm hand against his chest and told him to lie back. So, for once in his life, instead of being contrary, Len did as he was told. Barry squeezed the lube onto his fingers again and they disappeared out of view behind him, the twist of his shoulder, the rippling of his stomach muscles and his sharp little intakes of breathe Len’s only witness to what he was doing. Len ran his hands over Barry’s chest, his nipples, his stomach and Barry squirmed and pushed him away with a breathless laugh. When Barry straddled Len, hovering over his hips, Len felt his doubt begin to fade away. Still, he asked, “Are you sure?” “Yes,” Barry answered without hesitation. Barry took Len in hand, sunk down onto him, opened up for him, and the sweetest exclamation of oh fell from his lips. “Oh,” he repeated, eyelids fluttering, “that’s so good.” Len echoed the sentiment. Being inside Barry defied description. Every experience he’d had before was measured against this moment and found wanting. He looked up in wonder at the man he loved and his expression was mirrored back at him. “You’re perfect.” *** Barry felt a line of sweat run down his back as he lifted himself up on Len’s cock, the muscles in his legs straining. It was such sweet torture to go slow but it was exactly what he needed at that moment. Len’s fingers pressed desperately into the flesh of his hips and might have left bruises if Barry didn’t have his healing factor. He wished he would bruise. Len had let Barry take what he wanted so far, showing incredible restraint in not simply thrusting up and chasing his own pleasure, but that resolve manifested in his desperate grip, his clenched teeth. Barry loved him all the more for it. Barry continued on in this way for a while, his arousal low grade without any kind of stimulation besides Len inside him. A hand on his dick would get him close but he was happy in this liminal space, could stay like this forever. In that moment, it was enough. Until it wasn’t. “Len,” he said, and Len must have heard his meaning in his tone, even without the words to articulate it. He moved Barry off him and then surged upwards, laying Barry on his back and taking his place above him. When Len pushed back into Barry, Barry moaned and clutched at him. It was good. So good. He gentled Barry through the first few stokes, easing him into the new position and the passivity of it. When Barry wrapped his legs around Len and pulled him closer, he got the message. Then it was fast and hard and Barry had nothing to do but lay there and take it. One hand grappled behind him for the headboard, eventually finding it and clinging on for dear life; the other settled on Len’s lower back, urging him for more. “Yes, yes, yes, yes,” Barry moaned, eyes pinched shut because it was all too much and adding one more sense to the mix would just push him over the edge. Len leant forward, changing the angle of his thrusts, and captured Barry’s lips in a messy kiss, more driven by teeth and panting than any kind of finesse. Len shuddered above him and Barry marvelled at the concentrated frown that furrowed his brow, his mouth half-open in a mixture of panting and silent moaning as his hips stuttered in their rhythm and he came. Len hung above him, breathing hard for several minutes, a sheen of sweat glistening at his hairline. He looked tired and content – and unguarded for once. Barry almost felt obliged to close his eyes, to not see Len like this without permission. It felt somehow obtrusive. When Len’s breathing had settled, he placed a kiss upon Barry’s forehead and went to pull out but Barry stopped him with a firm hand on his arm. “Not yet, not yet.” He got a hand around himself and began to stroke frantically, eyes clenched shut again. When he breathed in, it was a mixture of Len and himself he smelt: sweat and sex. It was Len’s warmth above him, inside him. Len’s hands stroking absently over his skin, purposeless and unassuming. “Barry…” Len’s lips brushed his, barely more than a chaste touch, but Barry hadn’t been expecting it, hadn’t realised how close he was. His orgasm hit him like a freight train and shook him apart. *** Len woke in the middle of the night, unsure at first what had caused him to stir. His confusion lasted only a second as Barry’s arms tightened around him. Len turned in the embrace so they were face to face, the streetlights outside creeping through the curtains to throw dusky light on the room. Barry’s eyelashes were matted together and Len wiped the tears from his cheeks. He shushed him with a gentle kiss and asked, “What’s wrong?” “I dreamt you were gone.” “I’m right here,” Len said, stroking his fingers through Barry’s thick locks. Barry shifted closer, tucking in beneath Len’s chin, arms encircling him, legs tangling together. “Please don’t go again.” Len held him close. “I won’t.”