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“Fine then, Mr. Allen.”
Eobard’s grin is taunting and sharp, like a cat that’s chasing a mouse. His voice is teasing, and he’s not even remotely out of breath. Where Barry is winded and gasping for breath, Eobard is seemingly unaffected by their night-long chase. Barry isn’t sure what time it is now, only that they had started at dusk and the moon was now hanging in the sky. They’ve come to a stop on a rooftop, and Eobard is circling Barry like a predator examining its prey.
“I’ll make you a deal,” Eobard finally continues.
Barry keeps trying to quell the heaving of his chest as he watches Eobard prowl. Barry has his hands on his knees, hunched over as he tries to get his breathing under control. He doesn’t speak and it tells himself it’s because he won’t dignify the bait with a response, rather than because he’s still winded from their battle thus far.
Eobard’s body sparks with lightening and suddenly he’s crowding personal space. He keeps moving closer until Barry’s back hits a wall. Eobard still grins, all teeth, and the red lightning dancing around them nips at Barry’s body. He licks his lips as he meets Barry’s glare.
“What do you want, Thawne?” Barry snaps, having finally evened out his breathing. He stands up straighter and crosses his arms over his chest.
“Oh, Mr. Allen, that has never changed,” Eobard drawls, “I have always wanted you.”
Barry tries to rear back from Eobard but only collides with the wall, his head cracking against the brick in a burst of pain. Eobard presses every inch of their bodies together; he cages Barry in against the wall, and his hands wander eagerly across the lines of the suit. Barry tamps down a shiver at the touch and hardens his glare as though it will deter the other speedster.
“I’m going to fuck you.” Eobard nuzzles at Barry’s cheek and somehow there’s an underlying, unspoken threat in the gesture. “And if you can take it without coming, I’ll surrender. I’ll turn myself in, right to the pipeline, like a good boy.” His words are hot as they ghost along Barry’s jaw.
He doesn’t react when Barry’s whole body tenses. He keeps speaking, a low growl. “However, if you do come,” like I know you will goes unspoken, “then you are mine, Barry Allen.”
Barry’s retort catches in his throat and burns like bile. Fear is stirring in his gut and his fight-or-flight response is pushing into overdrive. He doesn’t move, not to attack and not to flee. He stays completely still in Eobard’s grasp, he waits.
“Come now, don’t tell me you never once thought about this…” Eobard reaches up and pulls back his own cowl, then Barry’s. His hand trails from Barry’s hair down the line of his jaw, then rests against Barry’s neck as a warning. He doesn’t press hard enough to restrict airflow, but the threat is clear.
“You’ve never once imagined getting fucked by your beloved mentor? Your idol?” Eobard’s taunts echo endlessly in Barry’s skull.
Hand still curled around Barry’s neck, Eobard leans in and kisses a path to his ear. He sucks the lobe into his mouth, then bites down on the soft skin and tugs. It tears a moan from Barry, as well as a glare.
“That’s it,” Eobard praises.
Barry ignores the sting of tears gathering in his eyes. He raises his hands and reaches for the subtle, near invisible seams of his suit. He pulls at them, separating top from bottom. There’s a wind chill and he’ll be damned if he’s getting completely naked. He pushes his pants just far enough down his legs to give Eobard what he wants, what he needs. The legs of the suit bunches just above his knees when he’s done.
He stops, stands still again, and levels Eobard with what he hopes is a challenging gaze.
“You’re gorgeous,” Eobard taunts to make it clear he takes only delight in Barry’s expression. His hands star to roam again, even greedier than before now that more skin is available to him. They move across as much of Barry’s exposed body as possible; he leaves goosebumps in his wake and relishes the small gasps he wrings from Barry.
Eobard pauses in his ministrations only long enough to pull the pants of his own suit down, freeing his stiff cock.
Barry shudders and it’s hard to sparse out whether it’s caused by pleasure or fear. Pleasure is a thin thread pulling in his veins, but isn’t overwhelmed by the fear crashing over him in tidal waves. Barry feels dizzy, as though his head is in a vice, like he’s going to break apart the moment Eobard really touches him.
The lingering pulses of pleasure make Barry sick, and fear is barely a strong enough anchor to keep him grounded.
Back when Eobard Thawne was still technically Harrison Wells, of course Barry had imagined this.
Or, well, he had imagined Harrison Wells, in a bed or against a desk or in a car. Never on top of a building and never like this.
Harrison Wells was his whole world, both before and after the particle accelerator explosion. Before Eobard Thawne revealed himself, Barry would’ve done anything Harrison Wells had asked. Before Eobard Thawne had come clean, Barry had entertained ludicrous fantasies of falling in love with the man he thought was Harrison Wells, of building a life with that man.
Eobard’s gloved hand gripping Barry’s still soft cock brings him out of his reverie.
Barry closes his eyes instead of deciding where to look. He doesn’t want to watch the black glove working over his dick, and he doesn’t want to look at the imposter wearing Harrison Wells’ face. It’s that face that makes giving in that much easier. For all his hatred and fear, Barry can’t resist that face. Even knowing that the face is nothing more than a gruesome mask, even knowing what sort of man is hiding behind said mask—Barry can’t really say no.
The next seconds pass in a blur, even for Barry. He can feel the speed force igniting between their bodies but he doesn’t have the will to keep up. He lets the energy of his speed feed into Eobard’s actions; he hands over control, and lets Eobard take what he wants. Barry focuses pointedly on not getting hard as three fingers, gloved and slick, probe deep into his body. They vibrate at odd intervals, as does the hand still wrapped around Barry’s cock.
Eobard slows only after Barry’s hole is open and wet. He lifts Barry by the hips and waits till Barry winds his legs around Eobard’s waist obediently before continuing. He leers in delight as he guides his cock, slick but uncovered, into Barry. He moves at a near glacial pace, because even if he can’t make Barry come, he’s going to savor every moment of this.
Barry’s stomach lurches with each inch that sinks inside him. A war of sensations explodes inside his chest.
It feels good, because Eobard is nothing if not thorough. Barry is plenty stretched and plenty wet and the lingering burn is only pleasurable. Eobard knows what angle will light fires on Barry’s skin, and isn’t holding back. He knows how to twist his hand on Barry’s cock to have the skin swelling with arousal.
At the same time, though, the weight of what’s happening and with who is nauseating. Barry’s undeniable resistance, however often it wavers, is thick enough to feel like a chokehold. He wants this one moment and doesn’t the next—it’s an endless push and pull and it fogs Barry’s mind.
The conflict only keeps his dick limp for so long, though, and Barry feels helpless under Eobard’s touch.
“Hold back, Mr. Allen?” Eobard purrs into Barry’s ear. “That’s not very nice.”
Eobard emphasizes his words by pulling back until only the head of his cock rests inside Barry.
“Give it up, Barry,” Eobard taunts, “you can’t win.”
He thrusts forward and buries himself as deep as he can inside Barry’s ass. He sets a punishing pace, one that slams Barry again and again against the wall. The slap of skin on skin is lewd and wet in the night air, and the thought that someone might be listening fuels Eobard.
Passion mixes with brutality until they’re impossible to separate.
Barry’s hands clench on Eobard’s shoulders as he clings to the other reluctantly. The feeling of firm muscle beneath his hands lends Barry some sense of control, and Barry holds onto it desperately. His cock is getting hard and Barry’s mind is too cloudy to try and think of something else.
Barry can’t hear anything that isn’t the slick slide of Eobard’s dick inside him. He can’t feel anything that isn’t the rough glide of Eobard’s hand over his cock. He can’t taste anything that isn’t their sweat mingling together—that isn’t their speed forces tangled up together.
His whole back feels bruised and sore from pounding against the brick wall behind him and the pain only weakens his resistance further. He curls his arms around Eobard’s shoulders tighter, draws the man closer, buries his face against Eobard’s neck to hide his twisted enjoyment.
Eobard’s reaction is instantaneous. He moves in and sinks into the new spaces Barry has carved for him. He moves one hand and grips Barry’s ass for leverage. He abandons Barry’s now fully hard cock to brace a hand against the wall. His position pulls Barry’s back from the wall, and even though his thrusts have to slow it’s worth it for Barry’s mewling gasps. Eobard kisses Barry’s temple, takes in the taste of the sweat gathered there.
Barry moans, uninhibited. It’s like a damn breaking in his chest and Barry can’t keep quiet any longer. His nails catch on the texture of Eobard’s suit as he tries to claw his way closer.
“Look at me, Mr. Allen.”
Barry obeys with a noise caught between a sob and a moan. He raises his head and stares with no heat, only tears and resignation in his gaze. He shivers again at Eobard’s lecherous grin, but doesn’t try to pull away. He waits.
Eobard leans in and kisses Barry softly at first. His hips are still pumping at an unrelenting pace but his lips move smooth and gentle over Barry’s. Eobard licks the seam of Barry’s mouth and waits for his lips to open before deepening the kiss. Eobard groans as their tongues glide together, as Barry maps out his mouth just as eagerly. Eobard drinks in the taste of Barry’s mouth and memorizes the feeling of the wet heat.
When they pull back, a string of spit hangs between their lips. Eobard grins.
“How do you feel, Mr. Allen?” Eobard whispers as he slows his thrusts. “Is it what you always wanted? What you always dreamed?”
Barry whimpers. He rolls his hips to make up for the slower pace. The need for friction has overtaken the fear clinging to his nerves, and Barry keens in desperation.
“Touch yourself, Barry.” Eobard commands. “Get yourself off with my cock inside you.”
Barry drags a hand from Eobard’s shoulder and moves it to his cock. He fucks into his grasp with abandon, pushing forward into his hand and rutting back against Eobard’s dick.
“Let me hear you,” Eobard hisses. “Nice and loud now, Mr. Allen. Let the whole city hear what a slut you are for me.”
Barry cries out and it echoes into the night. He moans and gasps and can’t take his heavy-lidded gaze off Eobard. He strokes his cock faster to the point that his hand begins to vibrate.
“What a nice trick.”
Barry almost asks if Eobard does this to himself, if he does it while thinking of Barry, but before he can another sensation overwhelms him—
Eobard’s cock is vibrating inside him and Barry feels torn apart by pleasure. Every thrust in goes to his core, rattling his body from the inside out. Eobard hits Barry’s prostate with alarming precision and unstoppable determination.
“Fuck!” Barry shouts again. His body undulates between the vibrations and he bites at Eobard’s lips. He kisses every few moments and sucks Eobard’s lower lip between his teeth to nibble. “Eo—Eobard.” Barry gasps. He breathes the name into Eobard’s mouth over and over, louder and louder.
“Are you close, Mr. Allen?”
Barry just nods as the only words he can even think right now are fuck and Eobard.
“Are you going to come for me, Barry? Are you going to be my pet?” Eobard kisses Barry before he can answer and plunders his mouth and swallows all of his moans. Eobard licks deep into Barry’s mouth and traces Barry’s teeth with his tongue. He slides his tongue against Barry’s until the other is kissing back just as ferociously. Eobard even pulls back enough to let Barry dominate the kiss, let Barry have a last semblance of control.
As Barry’s tongue slips into his mouth again, Eobard bites down hard enough to draw blood.
Barry screams and his come spills between them. His cock pulses over his hand and come shoots out in thick, ridiculous spurts. His whole body burns with pleasure and his mind goes entirely blank. His tongue throbs and the coppery taste of blood fills his mouth, spills down his chin. A shiver runs through him as though he could come again just from the taste, just from the violence.
Eobard grins and Barry’s blood stains his teeth as well. He licks his lips and presses his forehead to Barry’s. “I’m going to come inside you, Barry Allen, and you will finally be mine.” Eobard’s gasp is drawn out and shuddering as his orgasm rises. His thrusts, still incredibly fast and still vibrating, turn jerky and uneven.
“I will never let you go.” Eobard hisses as he slams into Barry a last time.
Barry tenses at the feeling of come filling him, at the knowledge of belonging to Eobard. He feels branded like cattle, feels dread pooling in his gut at the thought. Now that the haze of his orgasm is fading, Barry is brought back to reality. The chill of the evening air is biting at his exposed skin and bile is bubbling in his gut. Barry feels filthy, broken, used up. Eobard’s still hard cock inside him hurts like a bullet to the brain.
He lost. He lost because he couldn’t resist.
He failed.
Barry stays stock still as Eobard pulls out. He doesn’t react at the feeling of come in his ass, leaking down his legs. He lets Eobard redress them both; lets Eobard crowd his personal space. Barry winds his arms across Eobard’s shoulders just as he had before.
Eobard nuzzles at his cheek and peppers kisses across Barry’s face. He’s grinning as he does so and each kiss stings like a cut to Barry’s skin. Barry doesn’t pull back. He tilts his head whatever way gives Eobard the best access.
Eobard starts to murmur against his skin and the vibrations of his voice send near painful shocks of arousal through Barry’s body.
“You are mine, Barry Allen. I am going to keep you for the rest of our lives, and I am going to wreck you.” Eobard kisses Barry harsh and biting; he licks Barry’s mouth clean of the blood that still remains, though the wound has healed. Eobard keeps talking after they pull back, though their lips are barely a hair’s breadth apart.
“I am going to take you apart piece by piece, and you will love every moment of it. You will beg for it. You will know nothing but my name and you will be grateful.” Eobard growls and tightens a hand in Barry’s hair. He glares at Barry and his expression is some unfathomable mixture of rage and delight.
“I am going to destroy you, Barry Allen, and you are going to love me until the very end.”