penancememes | TEST DRIVE MEME #8

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TEST DRIVE MEME #8

ARRIVAL

You remember a dream.

Or maybe nightmare is more accurate.

It was full of hellfire nipping at your skin and a sensation of being pulled down no matter how much you struggle or cry for help. There's a voice that feels like it's coming from all around you at once. Contrasting with the nightmare unfolding around you, it's smooth as silk. It makes you want to listen with every bit of attention you can muster in the moment.

"Judgement has come upon you, but not to worry. It can still be undone."

The voice promises you redemption for your sins. It promises you a better life and everything you could ever want, if only you just stop struggling so much.

And so you do.

Everyone wakes up in the same room initially. The room is done up in red with a cushy bed, a window, an old TV in the corner on a desk, and a few Hieronymus Bosch paintings lining the wall. There's a bathroom to clean up in and any belongings will be sat around the room to be gathered later. There's a duffel bag provided for your convenience.

After feeling a sensation of falling or dropping onto the bed, characters wake up feeling like they've just slept for a week. Their body will feel heavy and stiff, they'll have a massive headache at first.

They'll quickly notice the list of their sins written with their blood on a bedside table on an old piece of parchment. This will mean the list is tied to them and can't be changed or tampered with. They'll also receive their device to connect with others and the network. It won't be anything terribly fancy. As a matter of fact, it looks like a very old Blackberry type phone.

Once characters are ready to leave the room, they'll head down long, winding halls. They're dimly lit and ominous feeling. They may encounter fellow sinners or demonic staff that will direct the newcomer down to the lobby to get their actual room key to settle in. They may be pushy, they may border on courteous. It really just depends on the mood of the staff at the time and how they're treated in return. Eventually, everyone comes to stairs that lead downward.

Once down to the lobby, you'll notice the front desk manned by a demon who looks bored out of its mind. To the side of him is the door to the kitchen where guests may help themselves. To the right is a small duty free shop that seems to have a surprisingly normal, expected stock of items. Look around a bit further, there will be a tiny bar tucked in through a corner door. It seems pretty well-stocked and best of all, self-serve if you want to get away from your demonic hosts for a bit. Of course there's some seating, bar games, and a jukebox tucked in the corner if you'd rather stay and socialize a bit.

Please note that all the songs on the jukebox are appropriately hell-themed. Hopefully Sympathy for the Devil is universally loved.

STAND YOUR GROUND

Prompt I

The cold is still biting, but the heat is (mostly) working within the hotel and other establishments again. It's enough to take the chill off for the most part. Coats and extra blankets are being passed out to those who need them as well.

Unfortunately, the food shortage that begun a few days ago will continue on for a few more yet! All food will be rotting or covered in maggots and mold, so new and old arrivals alike should probably steer clear of it if they can. If asked, the staff will insist it was entirely unplanned. Totally. Honest.

It will let up before the month is over and then fresh food will more than return! In the meantime, guests are able to bargain for a morsel of food someone else might have hidden back that hasn't rotted or try some of the bizarre fruit sprouting up that ranges in looks from a Durian to Jackfruit.

Just be aware that eating them before they're ripe enough may result in severe nausea and other decidedly not fun issues. Get them when they're perfect though? Unlike their earth counterparts, the insides seem to range from the sweetest, most delicious fruit you've ever had to something that may appear to be human blood and guts to something oddly... pork tasting, and everything in between. Food's food though, right? Don't complain, just eat.

There's increased security around the stables where animals are kept around the hotel, just in case anyone decides to eat Lucifer's prized animals. That will be a firm no. For any guests with pets of their own, there will be small rations of non-spoiled food to feed them, but it has very little nutritional value to humans.

The theatre has also changed the movie lineup to now include: Christmas with the Kranks, The Ref, Jack Frost, Holiday in Handcuffs.

Go forth and enjoy the way the holidays even seem to invade Hell.

The hotel bar's jukebox also seems entirely overrun with horrible festive songs now, pushing holiday shenanigans off the playlist. Try to enjoy it while you get drunk! Or hope someone actually gets up to indulge in karaoke to drown it out. The music has seemed to put the demons in a rather sour mood if anyone bothers to listen to the complaints.

Prompt II

[One day, on the network, sinners will be greeted with Lucifer's face. He'll smile brightly from every phone or computer in Hell, before he speaks:]

I thought it may be fun to include an icebreaker of sorts... Get you lot mingling and bonding with each other before the loneliness eats you absolutely alive. I want there to be something to redeem after all... a shriveled husk of a person is hardly that.

[Lucifer seems to find his own joke amusing at least.]

So, here we go:

What pleasant memories help you through the tough times?

Or alternatively, what are some of your favorite hobbies to distract yourself with?

[Lucifer may not respond, but rest assured that he will eagerly be watching others share their answers and talk amongst themselves]

REACH UP HIGH

Prompt I
Warnings: cutting, blood, torture.

Whether you've been here for months or you're freshly arrived, your demonic overlord expects some participation. You can try and shirk the responsibility, of course. You can bargain your way out of it for a while. But eventually, you may find yourself trapped in a room just off the gym that's been fondly dubbed the torture room. It has all manner of equipment in there, along with an iron maiden even.

But don't worry about any of that right now. It probably won't be used.

You can try the door, but even with super human strength or every lock picking skill in the book, you won't be able to open it.

It soon becomes apparent what you're supposed to do soon enough when someone else is eventually shoved in with you. Both of your lists of sins will appear on a table that's been placed in the center of the room with two handy knives. You can choose to guard these or not care at all that they're on display.

"Know that honesty is a good place to start on your road to redemption. Sure, it can be terrifying at first, but that's why you've been given a partner in this journey. Pick up your knives and carve at least one sin into each other's flesh. Help in the journey to be candid with everyone you should meet here!"

The voice echoes all around you again, just like in the nightmare, and once again there's the pull to give in. This voice really does seem like it has your best interests at heart.

"If you need a bit of encouragement, we'll be giving it shortly."

It isn't a lie or idle threat either. The longer you wait to do what's been requested of you, the more shallow cuts that will appear on both of your bodies. Are you really prepared to endure this pain when giving in would be so much easier?

And more than that, are you willing to let another suffer along with you?

Eventually, the cuts will stop if you suffer them long enough, but you'll have failed this challenge and sustained more damage than if you'd just gone along with it. Satan will also be very disappointed in you.

Prompt II

"I know after such a food shortage, all of you may be eager to overindulge and sate your hunger... or even hold food back, just in case. But this isn't the act of a good person. It isn't how someone who is truly selfless, as my Father desires all of us to be, would act. So I ask all of you to turn to whoever is nearest and simply share what you have. It doesn't necessarily have to be food, but it must be an item or act that will make their lives easier," Lucifer's voice rings out, sudden albeit encouraging and warm as always.

Sharing is caring, apparently. The request seems simple enough, doesn't it? Just share a bit of food or anything else that might seem useful to someone else and you'll have done your good deed for the day! Of course, should the guest ignore this request, they'll find their insides burning. It will grow steadily worse until it becomes unbearable. Nothing a guest drinks or eats to soothe it will help either. These feelings will persist a full night or until they cave and do as requested.

FOLLOW ME DOWN

Prompt I
Warnings: Alcohol and drug abuse, potential non-con/dub-con.

The club, as it turns out, isn't quite ready to give up its party from the previous month, but they have put a new twist on it. As before, once a sinner enters the establishment, they'll be greeted with almost entirely nude (to fully) incubi and succubi servers. Their trays are full of aphrodisiac-laced treats that show no rot, as well as drinks and drugs of all sorts. There are dancers and other performers enticing their audience to stay, and plenty of free stages for sinners to put on their own show. Sex machines, bondage equipment, or toys are freely available for these performances.

Poles, cages, and everything else one could want are also on offer.

But this particular party? It's a bit different. No one is allowed in unless they are appropriately dressed in lingerie. Don't worry if you came overdressed! The demons will helpfully provide it at the door and even offer a room for sinners to change in! If refused, entrance will be denied (forcefully, if necessary). If guests aren't sure what to put on, the staff will be more than happy to choose for them (again, with force if necessary)!

Tonight is about being daring! Never done drugs off someone else before? Now's your chance!

Never even been drunk? Well, just let the demons help take care of that.

It's also about experimentation with something new. This can be someone who is generally outside your usual preferences, an act you'd never considered in a thousand years, to anything else under the sun.

Guests may also know screens set up around the establishment, but oddly enough, they appear turned off for the moment. If asked, the staff assures they will be back as soon as a few kinks are worked out.

Prompt II

A fall festival seems to roll into town one day overnight, and it seems to be centered around the hell fruit that's springing up on lifeless, dead trees. It's bustling with demons of all sorts and will last one week.

There's a tempting wine that's been made out of the fruit that can vary in taste, but seems to be stronger than most other liquor available anywhere else. It tastes so good though... like the forbidden fruit it most certainly is.

While most will feel just drunk off it, others may find it harder and harder to resist. They may selfishly crave more and even develop a desire to hoard it back.

Much like the apple the serpent tempted Eve with, one may find it offers a certain... clarity into one's situation after they've had enough. Knowledge one may not have wanted, but cannot deny any longer.

Or perhaps it simply just makes others entirely too happy, or too horny, or any number of possible ways. Take a sip and find out where the wine leads you!

Other than that, a few vendors are peddling jams and pies made out of the fruits. There are also a few selling items from earth ranging from electronics to clothes to weapons, and anything in between. Some may be selling actual earth animals as well, mostly small ones kept as pets, but they'll insist they make the perfect meal. They even have areas ready to butcher and cook them right then and there for those who are interested in buying.

If sinners decide to save Fido or Mr. Floppy from their ill fates, they should make absolutely certain that they can care for them though. Pets aren't easy and the demons find them more delicious than endearing

There are a few games to play, as well, reminiscent of the earlier carnival. Darts, tests of strength, and even a dunk tank with a demon who yells embarrassing stuff at the guests that seems oddly knowledgeable. How did they know you wet the bed until five? Probably best to not question it.

Besides that, there's a ferris wheel that provides a nice view of your hellish surroundings (that may occasionally breakdown and trap unsuspecting sinners on it for a while). It could be the perfect place to go to get some alone time with that honey of yours though.

It may all seem like a relaxing thing after starving for so long, but those who linger may begin to feel a need to hoard items. Food, weapons, and anything else they can get their greedy little hands on. Perhaps it's still the starvation talking, but sinners may find themselves feeling almost too irritable if anyone tries to take what's theirs. Potentially, this could even extend to possessiveness over other people as well. Oh, well, hopefully sinners will manage to control all those pesky urges!

When the skies darken to what is probably night in Hell, there will be a special fireworks display taking place. They seem almost magic, taking shapes most people wouldn't think possible. One might see Lucifer's face up in the sky once or twice, drawn in brilliant flames. There are blankets to sit out and watch, plenty of wine or warm drinks to go around, and no end in sight.

MISC.
Thanks for joining us for our eighth test drive meme, sinners! Reserves are now open for the upcoming app round on December 1st

If you have questions, comments, suggestions, etc., go here.

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Barry laughs, altering his course from the dance floor to the bar. "Luckily alcohol is cheap in hell," he says, arranging himself at the bar in a pose most likely to attract the demonic barkeep. It's no real surprise that it's Oliver who gets their attention first, but again, that ass.

"What can I get you, Daddy?" the barkeep drawls, dragging another eyeroll from Barry. "Daddy will have a shot of whatever's strongest," he says, eyes sparking in warning. "And I'll have your girliest, fruitiest cocktail."

Meanwhile, Oliver is so fucking confused. Here Barry is looking like a snack, and somehow he's the one getting the attention. Or was. Someone in passing made for a grab at Barry and before thinking better of it, he easily swiped the other man's arm away before he could actually touch him.

It wasn't his place to stop it, and who was to say Barry wouldn't have liked it? Oliver wasn't sure about a lot of things anymore, but he knew he didn't want to share at the moment. He was not drunk enough to be left alone in this place and losing Barry was the last thing he wanted.

"....a cocktail? Really? Can you not feel alcohol here either?" He asked curiously, shifting closer so that they were touching. Oliver shared a look with the Demon barkeep and then focused on Barry's face.

Barry lifts his brows. He's pretty sure the slashing motion Oliver had just made was to ward someone off, someone trying to touch Barry when Oliver looks like this. No accounting for taste in Hell, apparently.

For the question, he shrugs. "I can," he says, "I just like the sweet stuff, still." A red drink arrives next to his fingertips, complete with fruit speared on a stick and a festive straw. "Pineapples!" Barry crows, immediately eating them off the stick before he takes a long, thirsty drag of daiquiri.

Shortly thereafter, Oliver's drink is delivered and he just glared before another Daddy comment could come along. He was half of a sip in, safe from once annoyance only to find himself warding off another sneaky hand. This one was actually grabbed by the wrist and shoved aside.

Of course that was the attention Barry was going to recieve when he was dressed the way he was; lacking anything that actually mattered.

The drink was good. It was strong, and warm and whatever was in it hit harder much quicker than what he had had prior to finding Barry pulling a Pretty Woman.

Sliding around behind Barry, he stepped in until he was almost completely flush against him, caging his much more naked form protectively against the bar where he was way too happily enjoying...fruit of all things. "I don't see Garrett." he said near the other mans ear, one hand holding his glass, the other tapped absently on the bar top.

Barry is a lightweight when it comes to alcohol. His tolerance, of course, had advanced to metahuman levels when his powers did, but now that he's in Hell his metabolism doesn't seem to affect the strength of his drinks.

He sighs happily as Oliver frames his body with his own, pinning him against the bar and away from wandering hands. "Because Garrett is somewhere enjoying himself," he says, letting his head fall back until it rests on Oliver's shoulder. "A side effect of falling through the multiverse is taking pleasure where you can find it." Oliver is so close, and Barry's had three whole gulpfuls of daiquiri by now. He tilts his hips, rubbing silk against leather. "Do you want me to go find him?"

Even with his own drink beginning to hit where the last one had left off, it doesn't take much to realize that Barry is in fact affected by the drink in ways he hadn't been before (post meta-blessing).

...enjoying himself. Oliver set his drink down but he didn't let go of the glass until Barry's head tipped back against his shoulder completely distracting him from searching for Garrett anywhere in the crowd. After his encounter with Garrett, Oliver hadn't been sure if he should cross that line that kept Barry at arms length when really he had wanted him just like this the whole time. Warm, close, possessive?

The hand that formerly held the glass dropped away and idly drew softly lines from the top of the others thigh, catching on the thin strap of red panties; a finger hooked beneath it, tugged and let it snap back again, remembering the piercing looped through the tip of Garrett''s cock. Lightning bolts. Then Barry's hips tilted, putting just enough pressure against his cock to cause him to groan against the underside of his jaw and to grind forward on instinct. That primal need for friction and reciprocation. He didn't remember turning his face, didn't remember when his hand had moved to splay over abs and hips, or when it had decided to wander just beneath silky fabric, "No," he breathed, "I want you to stay right here."

Barry's lips part for a breath as Oliver's hips roll to meet him, Oliver's own exhalation suddenly close and warm against the sensitive underside of his jaw. Barry can feel the scratch of his stubble against Barry's own unnaturally smooth skin, and his heart races in triumph. How many times has he imagined being close to Oliver like this? How many times has he imagined the grip of his scarred hands?

Fewer than Barry would like, if he's honest. He's always kept Oliver in a separate space in his head, off limits and clearly spoken for, but here...well, none of the constrictions of home matter at all, do they? Barry can want all he likes. He can turn in Oliver's arms, and Barry does, winding his own around Oliver's neck.

"Dance with me?"

This wouldn't have been an option back home; it was true. Olivers love life was complicated (or his history was) and Barry was head over heels for Iris. This? This was definitely not something that would have actually come to pass even if they both had apparently thought about it.

There was no reason to keep Barry at arms length here. Not that he could with him twisting around in his arms, so, so close. Both hands travel over Barry's hips, following the curve to his low back and over such soft skin. Skin that he wanted to run his hands over, he wanted to pepper it with kisses, he wanted to bite and grab and pull and then that pretty mouth was so close that he abandoned all thoughts of skin or dancing and leaned forward to catch his mouth in a kiss before he could even finish asking him the question.

Barry's faster than sound, yet he can't move a muscle as Oliver's mouth descends, trapped in a space where his wildest, most indulgent fantasies come true. Oliver's mouth is hot, his lips as strong as the rest of him, and Barry's body comes back online all at once, hands tangling in the leather harness to drag Oliver closer still.

Barry might be fast, but he's impatient, forever chasing after what he wants with an eagerness time can't seem to dampen, and he groans, parting his lips to allow Oliver entry even as his own tongue sweeps past Oliver's teeth, searching out more searing, wet heat.

They can't get any closer at that point. And it's almost a shame because it doesn't feel close enough. Pent up frustration and boundary obeying lash out with wanton groans hidden beneath the louder thumping of music around them. Barry's knuckles brush against his skin from his grip on the harness and Oliver growls into the impatient kiss. Barry tasted like pineapple and liquor, and all of those sinful things you're told to stay away from but eventually indulge in anyway. Oliver had tried to keep that boundary in place, he really did, but enough was enough.

Tipping his head to deepen the kiss, his hands move, trailing over the others skin, pulling him tighter against him and then reaching up to tangle in Barry's hair, keeping him there in the kiss before he snags his bottom lip between his teeth and tugs.

Barry doesn't know what he's expecting - that this will be good, yes, just look at Oliver - but imagining something and experiencing it are two very different things, and he groans when Oliver's hand finds its way into his hair, mouth slack when Oliver suddenly bites his bottom lip.

Barry lets him, toes curling inside his stockings for the way it drags heat down his spine like a touch. "Knew you'd be a biter," Barry breathes.

This was really happening, wasn't it. The idea of being this close, closer to Barry than before gave him a little thrill and he made such pretty noises. Hearing them for himself, instead of just imagining them in private or from Garretts stories felt unreal.

Oliver kissed him again and then chuckled softly, "You did, hm?" Blue eyes slowly looked over Barry's face and his brow furrowed thoughtfully, "Is this just fun?" Or did this mean something more than that. His thought process bounced from his more carnal wants, to something else, something deeper and then back again when he found it hard to not keep kissing him.

He wasn't close enough so he reached down just enough to lift Barry up onto the stool behind him and set him up on it, sliding between his legs in the process.

Is it just fun?

Barry hasn't been thinking too hard on it, too primed for sex, perhaps, after a year of more sex than he'd ever even contemplated before Zhautus, but this is Oliver. He matters more than most. He opens his mouth, only to groan again when Oliver lifts him, his knees falling open so he can get close.

"Not just fun," he says, trying to drag his higher brain function back online. "But I don't know what it is? I've always had a crush on you, and - " Barry waves a hand at Oliver's muscles straining at the leather harness. "This is a lot."

Not just fun, but neither really knew what it was. It made sense, really.

Oliver could chalk it up to just unresolved sexual tension, they could enjoy themselves and carry on like any other time. Except it wouldn’t be that easy to do. He could try but Barry would know something was wrong and it would just turn into a domino effect of awkwardness.

He absently looked down at himself with Barry’s hand waving and snorted a laugh.

“Right,” Oliver took a breath and leaned in close, focusing on Barry’s face, “Not just fun but not quite....” That thing. It would sort of be an experiment. Satisfying a curiosity. “Should we go somewhere?”

"I think so," Barry exhales, trying not to look too long into those stupidly soft blue eyes. Oliver is so intense, so terrifying when he wants to be - where does he get off having eyes like this? No wonder he'd been such a playboy before the island...

Shaking himself, Barry straightens and grabs hold of him, racing them out of the club proper and into one of its back rooms. It's private, but it's not Barry's own bed, which might make things more fraught than they need to be.

"We can talk about it," Barry offers. "You mean a lot to me, and I don't want to mess things up just because I really liked kissing you."

Oliver should have expected that but even the short distance, much faster than usual (albeit not as fast as usual), surprised him. This time, thanks to alcohol, it was able to surprise a little laugh out of him. It felt like being a kid and spinning too fast then suddenly stopping.

He glanced around the room they landed in, and arched a brow; he definitely knew what probably went on in these. At least it looked clean, clean enough that it didn't bother him at the moment. Barry was there, and he was soft and barely dressed, and those doe eyes were ridiculous.

Hooking his thumbs in the waist bands of those panties, he looked over his face, those blue eyes landing on his mouth as he spoke, watching them shape words and he caught them in another kiss, "Feeling is mutual," he nipped him again, "...If we do this now...you know I'm going to want you again, right?"

Oliver doesn't really need all those muscles when he kisses like this. Barry holds onto his arms, using them for balance when that short kiss leaves him weak. "I hope so," he breathes, grinning against Oliver's mouth. "I don't know if Garrett told you, but I'm pretty hard to tire out."

Those calloused thumbs against the crease of his hips are maddening, and Barry opens his mouth, deepening the kiss into something with promise, with intent, imparting the knowledge that starting now, Oliver can have anything he wants and it's willingly given, besides. Even so, Barry's cheeks pink with a rush of daring as he shifts a hand forward, framing Oliver's leather clad cock with his palm. He's only half hard, but even so the heat and the shape of him makes Barry whimper. After all this time, he's really getting to touch him like this?

"Garrett told me a lot about you, actually," Oliver chuckled softly and stole another kiss, nudging Barry backwards, "Eventually we should talk about some of it." Some of it was questionable. Some of it interested him. Some of it he didn't understand. He was sent to a Hell Island and Barry was sent to some sex planet. That didn't seem fair.

Wherever the line had been, it wasn't there anymore. Oliver knew that now. It would still be complicated but right now he didn't want to think about what would happen after, or what this would change between them. Barry's mouth felt soft and warm and Oliver didn't want to stop kissing him. Not yet. And he didn't plan on it until the others hand brushed against his cock, the thinner layer of leather than he was used to was barely a barrier against the heat of Barry's hand. His hips shifted, pressing into the touch as a groan was breathed against his mouth.

The whimper was interesting; so that part was true, then...

"You don't need permission." That went both ways, if Barry was willing to give him anything, Oliver would do the same. Boundaries didn't exist anymore.

That's a lot of trust, warming Barry in a way that has nothing to do with the need crawling down his spine, but he still pulls back long enough to say, "If you need me to stop or to slow down, you only have to say." Barry is a good man, but he's also a metahuman, and Oliver wouldn't be the first person to be overwhelmed.

Still, Barry has very little fear of frightening him tonight - any sounds he draws from him he hopes will be ones of pleasure, and he finds the head of Oliver's cock in those trousers, sets his thumb to it, and begins to vibrate there in gentle pulses. "How many times can you come?" he asks, blushing even as he grins. "Just trying to plan my evening."

Well, Oliver trusts Barry at this point probably more than most.

There was something amusing about the fact that Barry was giving him a heads up and an out in case things got too intense. Oliver was aware of what could happen, of all of the things Garrett had told him, the way Barry's powers worked during sex. Which was great in theory. It was all easy in theory.

But it was still a bit surprising when he felt the others thumb vibrate against him; it wasn't enough to get the kind of sounds he knew would eventually come but it was enough to make him curious, "I'm not...exactly sure? I never kept a record but..." okay, no, that felt nice. Curiosity was gone and now it just felt nice, "...three? Four? Depends I think on if I remembered." There was a why hanging there in the air. Breathy and warm as his hands used the grip on the others panties to pull him closer.

Barry's smile sharpens appreciatively, looking past Oliver for a moment at the bed. It's nothing special, but it's sturdy - Hell is weirdly practical about some things, at least - and Barry pushes at Oliver's shoulders, moving him towards the bed so he can push him down. He steps between Oliver's legs and just looks at him for a moment, drinking in the almost unbelievable sight of that familiar face with dark eyes and kiss swollen lips. Barry brushes his thumb over the bottom one, smiling faintly.

"I can't believe this is actually happening, and you're not in the suit. Late night fantasy Barry is upset."

Oliver kept his eyes on Barry’s face but allowed him to urge him backwards. Both legs hit the foot of it and he sat back onto it, bracing his arms behind him for support. This was much slower than the trip to the room and he was almost going to ask why he still had pants on when Barry moves between his legs and brushed his finger over his bottom lip.

Amused, he nipped the tip of his finger and held it for a second before letting go to look down at himself, “Fantasy Barry wanted me in my suit?” That could technically be arranged some other time.

"It's a nice suit," says Barry, grinning now. "Very clingy. But..." His gaze follows Oliver's downward, "This is nice, too." He sinks to his knees between Oliver's legs, running his hands up his leather clad thighs. "Maybe next time."

He scoots closer, eying the bulge in those pants. "I should have found you chaps instead," he laments, tongue dragging across his bottom lip. "Then I could suck you off and still feel this leather beneath my fingertips. Another next time."

They're racking them up fast, and Barry will remember every one of them.

Despite this not actually being rushed, he felt his body buzzing from anticipation. Barry there sinking between his legs, long fingers and warm palms running over his thighs, and then scooting closer despite already being right there. Oliver couldn't look away. He couldn’t move. Not yet. He just wanted to keep watching him to see what he was thinking. What he was wanting. To see just how true it was that he had this crush...

Then that damned tongue sneaked out and Oliver wanted to taste it again, to bite it, suck it into his mouth but—chaps? Yes, he fully agreed with that lamentation in this particular case. That would have been perfect but Barry was up to two ‘Next time’s and Oliver was getting impatient.

“Barry....we can make a list of your Oliver To Dos later. Work with what you have right now.”

Barry quirks a brow. Is he moving too slow for Oliver? In the space of a breath, Oliver's pants are gone, discarded on the far side of the room, and Barry is on his knees before him, working Oliver's cock slowly through his hand. It's bloodhot and as soft as velvet, and Barry bites his bottom lip, already so hungry for it he can hardly resist leaning down, but this is Oliver. Barry can actually take his time when he means to.

He learns the ridges of it with his eyes and fingertips, finds the veins he knows will sing beneath the press of his tongue. He rubs his thumb across the head, smearing moisture he'll soon get to taste. Barry sighs almost dreamily. "Sit back," he says, pushing forward between Oliver's legs to finally, finally slide that magnificent cock into his mouth.

TEST DRIVE MEME #8

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