This started as a tumblr prompt, and I think I'm going to have ALL of my current tumblr prompts play into this same 'verse. It's own little perverse fic, if you will.

Think anyone would notice if I slipped my hand down your pants?

Barry settled into his seat at the table in the back and slumped. Sure, this was his case, but he didn't really need to be here for this briefing. He'd already gone over all of the samples, just needed to wait on a few more tests to finish. He probably already knew every detail Singh was about to go over, and it would take at least a half hour before he got back to the lab to catch up on actual work.

The lights in the room being off while Singh pulled up the reports and images for the detectives and officers present didn't help either. Barry had made the mistake of dozing off during one of these briefings before, and Singh was not forgiving.

Another latecomer slid into the seat beside Barry, boxing him against the wall. He glanced aside to see who it was, but only caught the slight hint of jawline with the way the officer had his hat tipped so low. It was rare for any of the officers to wear their hats around the precinct.

After a couple minutes, Barry let himself sink back into his chair and sigh.

"Nothing to pique your interest?" the man beside him said.

Something about that voice was familiar. Barry looked, but the officer still had his hat low, his chin dipped, most of his face obscured, especially with the dim lighting. Was he a rookie?

"I've just been over all this already. I'm Barry Allen, CSI." He extended his hand. "Unless we've met before?"

"Oh," the man grasped Barry's hand firmly and tilted his head up just enough…to reveal Leonard Snart's smirking face, "I think we're well acquainted."

"Cold!" Barry hissed. "What the hell are you doing here?!" He tried to tug his hand away, but Cold released him slowly, dragging his fingers across the back of Barry's hand as he did so.

"Shhh, wouldn't want to draw any attention, now would we? We have a deal."

Barry repressed a grumble, as well as a shiver at the way Cold's cool fingers had felt against his skin. "Our deal doesn't involve you sneaking into the precinct. What do you want?"

Cold turned back to the presentation with a small smile on his lips.

"Don't tell me you had something to do with this case?" Barry asked.

"No. Someone beat me to the punch. Figured I'd do a little recon, see if their methods were worth learning from or avoiding. Have any leads yet?"

"I am not sharing information with you about an ongoing case."

"That's a no then. Maybe I can learn something."

Barry scoffed, but he caught Captain Singh shoot him a glare and decided he better end this conversation before he actually brought any attention down on Cold.

"You seem tense, Scarlet," Cold said after a few minutes of Barry trying to relax in his seat and ignore Cold's presence.

"Can't imagine why," Barry grumbled.

"To be honest, Flash, I was mostly just bored today. Maybe we can help each other out. It's only to your benefit to keep me distracted, after all, and you seem like you could use some…tension relief."

Barry frowned at him. "What are you talking about?"

Cold's expression turned predatory, lingering as he glanced down Barry's body. "We're in the back, Barry. Alone. In the dark. At a table that can easily conceal any dirty deeds we might do. Think anyone would notice if I slipped my hand down your pants?"

Barry honestly didn't know how he kept from yelping when Cold's palm slid across his knee as he said that. "Please tell me you're joking."

"Do you want me to be joking?"

"I…" Barry's brain took a moment to reboot. "Wait." He clamped his hand down on Cold's, already halfway between his thighs in the time he'd taken to respond. "You're serious?"

Cold licked his lips and batted the long lashes of his blue, blue eyes. "How much longer will the dear captain be?"

"T-Twenty minutes?"

"Think you'll last that long?"

"Highly doubtful." Oh, god, what was Barry doing? He could already feel himself hardening from the mere thought of this, from the way Cold looked at him, the low husk of his voice, the way his fingers dug into Barry's thigh and then slid further between his legs when Barry's own hand released him.

"Then let's see how long you do last," Cold grinned. He reached both hands over to undo Barry's pants, let one slide down inside to grip him through his boxers. "Mmm…seems you're warmed up already."

"Oh god…" Barry bit his lip to keep from moaning as Cold squeezed.

"Want me to stop?"

Barry hesitated, shook his head. He turned to look forward, to pretend he was paying attention to what Singh said, and Cold did the same beside him, as that hand beneath the table, down Barry's pants, touching him, touching him, kept moving. Soon it snuck up to the elastic of his shorts, teased the skin, slid deftly beneath and then—shit. Cold was touching him skin on skin. If this was some awful trick to get Barry in serious trouble at the station, or honestly just to get information on a case Barry maybe should be working slightly harder to prevent Cold from learning about, it was worth it.

If Cold really was just bored, just wanted an excuse to see Barry, to offer this—well that was interesting to say the least, and later Barry would have to ask him how long he'd been thinking about this.

Barry bit back his moans, had no choice, but the hitch to his breathing was impossible to hide. He felt fire in his cheeks, burning with embarrassment and desire, but nothing compared to the heat building in his belly. Cold knew just how to stroke him, the right pressure, an occasional twirl of his thumb through the precum forming at his tip, making Barry slick and wet in his palm.

Cold didn't speak, though Barry got the feeling he wanted to, would have egged him on more, if too much conversation wouldn't have risked bringing more attention on them. The Rogue just stared ahead, that sly smirk in place, while his hand moved, and Barry gasped, breathing harsher and deeper until he could feel himself getting close.

He had no idea anything Singh had said for the past ten minutes. He gripped the sides of his chair.

"What if I slipped away quietly right now, Scarlet, and left you hard and weeping?" Cold whispered, his hand slowing, pausing, sliding away.

"Don't you dare!" Barry growled.

Cold chuckled darkly…but thankfully, his hand returned and picked up the pace, tight, pumping harder, faster. "You're going to owe me for this."

"Ugnn…" Barry nodded, knowing he'd regret going along with this so easily, but he just wanted to finish, needed to come so badly.

And then shit—he was shaking, vibrating, just his hands and his hips a little, but Cold noticed, paused again briefly with his head slightly cocked, before continuing. When Barry came, he'd swear a shudder ran all through him that blurred his entire body for a moment.

"Shit," Cold huffed beside him.

"Mmm," Barry agreed.

Cold pulled his hand away, taking most of the mess with him, and slipped it into the pocket of his jacket to clean it off unseen. Barry closed his eyes and just sat there numbly, enjoying the buzz of the aftermath.

"Like I said…you owe me. And damn, Scarlet, I can think of so many requests now that I know what you can do."

Barry's mind was in too much of a haze to do anything but nod.

"Allen, have I put you to sleep again?" Singh's voice brought him abruptly back to reality.

"No, sir!" Barry said on instinct, flushing furiously as he opened his eyes and righted himself, so very glad for the dark and table.

"I would hope not," Singh glared at him, and continued where he'd left off.

Barry glanced to the side, but Cold was long gone, having slipped away unnoticed. He waited until no one was looking at him anymore before he discreetly did up his pants. He'd definitely have to keep a look out for Cold next time. And it really, really should have bothered him how much he looked forward to whenever that might be.

TBC...