Maybe it was even his idea. "Don't think this means I'm gonna start going easy on you out there," he said, the first time he saw the kid in all of his naked glory. "Once the mask goes back on, this never happened."
He said it harsher than he meant to - was too rough that time, not that the kid complained. Leonard didn't apologize either. He would have had to acknowledge the shake in his hands that had been there since the cowl came off, when he saw why Flash takes it in stride whenever Leonard calls him 'kid'. (He's an asshole, but all this time, he hadn't thought he'd been aiming at an actual kid.)
But the mask kept coming off - it keeps coming off. And Leonard keeps finding reasons to fire a split-inch off-center when he faces off with the Flash on the job.
Even his own goddamned clothes have become a part of the problem.
"Jeez. It's like an icebox in here," Flash whines even as he continues tugging off the top half of his suit.
Leonard sneers. "Have you forgotten who you're messing around with, kid?" But he only runs his hands down the soft, goose-pimpled flesh of Flash's arms once - he presses his mouth over the kid's quivering lips, breathing in the icy puff of his breath briefly. Then he turns to fire up the small wood-burning stove near the bed.
"You could have lit that before I got here, you know," Flash says with a bitten-off smile (Leonard sees it through the corner of his eye) like Leonard's being played with, the kid testing what Leonard will do if he's annoyed enough.
And playfulness, Leonard rewards. So, unthinking, he grabs his parka off its hook by the door and tosses it to Flash. "You could wear something other than skintight leather out in the snow," he says flatly (as if he would ever seriously discourage Flash from wearing skintight anything). And he carefully doesn't stare as the boy blurs forward to catch his coat, then blurs again and is suddenly sitting in the center of Leonard's bed wearing the parka.
Wearing only the parka.
He practically disappears inside of it - long, slender fingers curled into fists just inside the fur-lined cuffs, the bottom curve of the hood reaching up past his chin and almost brushing his red lips. He's got his legs curled up inside the coat, as well, and picturing what he'd look like sitting there like that, completely naked, rushes most of Leonard's blood straight towards his dick.
Flash actually sitting there - wrapped up in something that belongs to, and fits, and probably even smells like Leonard - draws the rest of his blood to his face, he can feel it.
"Naw," Flash says, as if he has absolutely no idea what he's doing to Leonard - just by being. "Something like this would burn up quick."
"I fucking bet," Leonard mutters.
"What?"
They don't waste much time talking, usually, is another thing. Not like this, anyway, although the taunts and banter that punctuate their other encounters have lengthened and deepened over time.
Usually, this is where Leonard would be stripping as well, pushing his pretty little do-gooder down on his back and going straight to town. But when Leonard stares at him a moment too long, Flash doesn't tense up like he would have when this thing of theirs began - he smiles. He smiles at Leonard - nervous maybe, even a little shy, but not like he's afraid that Leonard's going to turn on him now, of all moments.
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timeasmymeasure
Fill 1/2
Date: 2015-03-04 12:06 pm (UTC)Maybe it was even his idea. "Don't think this means I'm gonna start going easy on you out there," he said, the first time he saw the kid in all of his naked glory. "Once the mask goes back on, this never happened."
He said it harsher than he meant to - was too rough that time, not that the kid complained. Leonard didn't apologize either. He would have had to acknowledge the shake in his hands that had been there since the cowl came off, when he saw why Flash takes it in stride whenever Leonard calls him 'kid'. (He's an asshole, but all this time, he hadn't thought he'd been aiming at an actual kid.)
But the mask kept coming off - it keeps coming off. And Leonard keeps finding reasons to fire a split-inch off-center when he faces off with the Flash on the job.
Even his own goddamned clothes have become a part of the problem.
"Jeez. It's like an icebox in here," Flash whines even as he continues tugging off the top half of his suit.
Leonard sneers. "Have you forgotten who you're messing around with, kid?" But he only runs his hands down the soft, goose-pimpled flesh of Flash's arms once - he presses his mouth over the kid's quivering lips, breathing in the icy puff of his breath briefly. Then he turns to fire up the small wood-burning stove near the bed.
"You could have lit that before I got here, you know," Flash says with a bitten-off smile (Leonard sees it through the corner of his eye) like Leonard's being played with, the kid testing what Leonard will do if he's annoyed enough.
And playfulness, Leonard rewards. So, unthinking, he grabs his parka off its hook by the door and tosses it to Flash. "You could wear something other than skintight leather out in the snow," he says flatly (as if he would ever seriously discourage Flash from wearing skintight anything). And he carefully doesn't stare as the boy blurs forward to catch his coat, then blurs again and is suddenly sitting in the center of Leonard's bed wearing the parka.
Wearing only the parka.
He practically disappears inside of it - long, slender fingers curled into fists just inside the fur-lined cuffs, the bottom curve of the hood reaching up past his chin and almost brushing his red lips. He's got his legs curled up inside the coat, as well, and picturing what he'd look like sitting there like that, completely naked, rushes most of Leonard's blood straight towards his dick.
Flash actually sitting there - wrapped up in something that belongs to, and fits, and probably even smells like Leonard - draws the rest of his blood to his face, he can feel it.
"Naw," Flash says, as if he has absolutely no idea what he's doing to Leonard - just by being. "Something like this would burn up quick."
"I fucking bet," Leonard mutters.
"What?"
They don't waste much time talking, usually, is another thing. Not like this, anyway, although the taunts and banter that punctuate their other encounters have lengthened and deepened over time.
Usually, this is where Leonard would be stripping as well, pushing his pretty little do-gooder down on his back and going straight to town. But when Leonard stares at him a moment too long, Flash doesn't tense up like he would have when this thing of theirs began - he smiles. He smiles at Leonard - nervous maybe, even a little shy, but not like he's afraid that Leonard's going to turn on him now, of all moments.