Hartley Rathaway wasn't just smart. He was genius smart. He spoke several languages, was well-read and talented. He was also very prideful. However, he wasn't so prideful that when someone ran past him at full tilt yelling 'OHGOD!OHGOD!OHGOD!' he would ignore the obvious warning. So, Hartley dropped his latte and began running after the other guy. After only a block his lungs were aching and his legs were on fire, but the guy he was following reached back and grabbed his wrist, pulling him along, yelling over his shoulder something that sort of sounded like 'satan-spawn' and 'mind control', which made no sense, at all.
Hartley almost lost his balance as they went careening around a corner, but the guy held on tighter and they plunged into an alley. His lungs felt like they were about to collapse and he was about to just pull away from the guy and drop to the horribly dirty ground when a door ahead of them opened and they crashed into two men running out of it. Hartley groaned in pain as his head bounced off the ground. Near him the runner guy began an impressive litany of curse words.
"Mother-fucking demon balls! Shit! Getoffmeyouidiot!"
"Shut up, kid!" a low voice drawled angrily.
"Suck a dick! Oww! Goddammit! Leggo!"
"Damn, you got a mouth on you!" the other voice growled.
"Got teeth too, asshole! Now GETOFF!"
Hartley groaned as he sat up and adjusted his glasses. He blinked a few times as he took in the scene. The guy he had been following was a few feet away, his legs tangled with the legs of another man in a parka who was half laying on him. Beside Hartley sat a bald guy in a green canvas jacket and jeans, holding a gun in one hand and a small black box in the other. Parka guy reached over and slapped the runner on the back of the head.
"Hold still kid, so I can get up!"
Runner, who finally managed to sit up, reached out and used both hands to slap at Parka guy. It should have looked girly, but was strangely graceful. "If I get killed I'll fucking haunt you, you ass!"
Before Parka could do more than hiss, a loud growl reverberated in the alley. Runner froze and looked over his shoulder with wide eyes. He quickly turned back to Parka and shoved hard. "Fuckity fuck! RUN!"
Faster than Hartley had ever seen anyone move, the guy kicked free and jumped to his feet. He took two steps toward Hartley, but stopped as the bald guy got to his feet and grabbed Hartley's arm. Parka guy stood as well, giving a surprised squeak when Runner grabbed his hand and pulled him down the alley. Bald guy jerked Hartley to his feet and ran after them. Hartley wasted no time following them. Ten seconds later he found himself jumping into the backseat of a car.
"Gogogogogogo!" Runner yelled from the front passenger seat as Parka started the car. Behind them a large dumpster came flying out of the alley. Parka stomped on the gas and the car fishtailed briefly before sliding onto the street and speeding away from the scene.
"What the hell was that?" Bald demanded in a gravelly voice.
Runner slumped in the seat and ran a shaky hand down his face. "Telepathic gorilla."
Hartley was glad he wasn't the only one who stared at the guy as if he was insane. Parka's hands clenched tighter on the wheel. "A what?"
Runner gave a faint whimper and looked down at his lap. "A very angry, very big, very strong, telepathic gorilla who may or may not be on a rampage. Hey, got any paper towels?"
Bald was staring at him slack-jawed. "Gorilla. You think a gorilla was chasing you?"
Runner huffed softly. "I'm not his favorite person right now. Towels?"
"So, how did you escape the mental hospital? Sneak out in a laundry cart?" Parka sneered.
"Asks the moron who just robbed a jewelry store fifty feet away from a police station," Runner snapped. "Seriously, any towels at all?"
"Why the fuck do you want paper towels?" Parka snapped back.
"So I don't fucking bleed all over your shitty car, goddammit!"
Bald grabbed a shirt from the backseat and passed it over. "It's my car, actually."
Runner looked back and Hartley took a moment to appreciate the guy's looks. Chestnut hair, bright green eyes, great cheekbones, and plump lips added up to a very attractive face. "Thanks," he said with a tiny smile.
Ten minutes passed in silence before the car pulled onto a dirt road. A couple of minutes later Parka pulled the car around the back of a warehouse and turned off the engine. He got out, stomped around to the driver's side and opened the door. He paused for a moment before growling and bending down. He slung the now unconscious Runner over his shoulder and headed toward a door. Hartley got out and looked at Bald warily.
"Inside," the guy ordered, waving Hartley toward the door with his gun.
Taking a page out of Runner's book, Hartley sighed. "Fuckity fuck," he mumbled before heading into the building.
Hartley sat on the edge of a ratty loveseat and watched warily as Len and Mick (Parka and Bald, respectively) stitched up the cuts on Runner's right side. The guy was still unconscious, so hadn't given them his name, yet.
"Think the gorilla did that?" Mick asked, pointing to the three gashes and the black and purple bruise that covered most of the guy's abdomen.
Len shot Mick a glare. "Seriously, Mick? Telepathic gorillas?"
Mick rolled his eyes and turned on the TV. He channel surfed until he came to the local news. Hartley's jaw dropped as they showed footage of a police blockade near where he had met Runner.
"Again, the situation," the reporter said from out of the frame, "appears to be under control at the moment. However, no one is sure what happened to the massive gorilla that destroyed half of the Cloverton Mall this morning."
The footage turned to a newsroom where the two anchors were looking a bit shocked and speechless. The man cleared his throat nervously. "S-so, t-to clarify," he stammered, "a large...um, gorilla attacked shoppers at the Cloverton Mall half an hour ago."
A photo appeared in the upper right hand corner showing Runner slamming a broom handle over the gorilla's back as it reached for a young woman who had fallen at it's feet. The female anchor nodded with wide eyes. "That poor woman was very lucky that young man drew the beast's attention away from her. She could have been gravely injured."
The male tried to smile but it looked more like a grimace. "Yes, we could have ended up with a King Kong situation if he hadn't come to her rescue."
"Holy shit," Mick whispered. "A big fucking gorilla."
"Told you," Runner grumbled, finally regaining consciousness. He groaned as he swung his feet off the tattered sofa and sat up.
Len eyed Runner cautiously. "Pretty brave, kid."
"Screw you, I'm 24," he replied tiredly.
"I'm 42. That makes you a kid to me."
Runner looked up and blinked a couple of times. "Really? Wow. You're kinda hot for an old guy. You don't happen to have a younger, hopefully gay or at least bi-curious, brother, do you?"
Len glared, tight-lipped, while Hartley bit back a startled laugh. Mick grinned wickedly. "I'm Mick. That's Len. He's got a sister a few years older than you."
Runner gave a tiny pout. "Oh well." He sucked in a deep breath and tentatively rubbed his side before looking at Hartley. For a second he looked confused before smiling. "You're cute."
Hartley could feel himself blushing. Mick laughed and shook his head. Len pouted and crossed his arms over his chest. "Kid, you almost died. Why don't you wait until you've healed before you start trying to get laid."
Runner grinned wickedly. "There's always time for sex."
"What's your name?" Mick asked.
"Barry," he replied. He slowly stood, swayed for a second before twisting at the waist a few times. Satisfied he wasn't too injured he shoved his hands in his pockets. "Okay, so thanks for the lift. I won't tell anyone where you are. Have fun fencing whatever it is you stole. I've gotta get back to the lab before Dr. Wells comes looking."
Hartley tensed. "Wells? Harrison Wells?" he spat.
Barry nodded, looking at him. "The same. I take it you're not a fan."
"He ruined my reputation! He's a liar and a murderer!"
Barry nodded. "Yep."
Len eyed Barry with suspicion. "You aren't going anywhere until we get some answers."
Barry looked up at the ceiling for a long moment. Then, to their surprise, he chuckled. "Sure. Ask away."
"You're taking this awfully calmly," Hartley said snidely.
Barry snorted. "You have no idea how weird my life actually is."
Len glared at him. "Well, then, why don't we start at the beginning?"
Barry smiled widely. "You're even cuter when you do that. No brother, but maybe a cousin or a younger uncle?"
Len gave him an offended look. "I'm 42, not dead!"
"Old enough to be my dad," Barry pointed out. "And despite the rumors, that is not one of my kinks."
Hartley watched with horrified fascination as Len took a step closer to Barry. He was sure it was meant to be intimidating, but the two men were much the same height and Barry looked entertained rather than scared. He glanced at Mick who was watching Barry with a hint of respect and a lot of amusement.
"You've got quite a mouth on you," Len growled.
Barry raised one eyebrow. "You said that before. Is this your way of asking what I can do with it?"
Len turned a faint pink and dropped his arms, hands clenching at his sides. "Do you have any idea who you're dealing with?" he demanded.
Barry smiled and shrugged. "Let's see. Currently I've got telepathic gorillas, time traveling madmen, an unwanted mentor who enjoys shooting me with arrows, a poetry spewing demon and a foster sister who thinks it's her job to find me my own personal Neo."
"Neo?" Hartley repeated.
Barry looked at him with a grimace. "You know, 'The One'," he said using his fingers to make air quotes. "Iris is constantly trying to marry me off. She's hoping that if I marry, her dad will quit pestering her to get married and settle down. She's throwing me under the bus so she gets to keep her freedom. She's determined to see me settled down and married to one of her friends. Possibly with half a dozen brats running around inside a white picket fence." Barry shuddered. "Uggh. Sometimes I wonder if I'm really gay or if it's just my subconscious trying to thwart her." Barry paused and looked thoughtful. "Of course, then I remember how much I like sucking cock."
Len made a sort of choking noise, his eyes involuntarily locking onto Barry's lips. Mick finally reached his limit and doubled over laughing hard enough to bring tears to his eyes. Hartley could only sit there, mouth hanging open, as he stared at Barry in disbelief and a healthy dose of lust.
For a moment Barry looked lost in thought, then he shook himself (literally) before turning to Len. "What was the question again?"
Len's eyes snapped up to Barry's. He opened his mouth twice before finding words. "Never mind, kid. Sound like you've got enough problems. Look, we can't just let you leave. We don't know you and we don't trust you."
"That's fair," Barry nodded. "How about if I give you some leverage? Cause I really do need to get back before Wells freaks. The man's a major thorn in my side but I need to keep him from getting suspicious for a bit longer. So, how about this? I live at 127 Crestview Hill, apartment 4C. I'm a chemical engineer at Star Labs. Like I said, I have a foster sister, Iris West. She lives in 3B, one floor down from me. Good luck to you if you ever meet her. I take no responsibility for what happens to your sanity."
Barry turned to Hartley. "You staying here or do you want a lift back into town?"
"And just how do you intend to get to town?" Len asked smugly. "I'm not driving you."
Barry grinned slowly. "I thought we already established you're too old to give me a ride," he purred.
Len's blush was back in full force instantly. Mick held out a hand, palm turned toward Barry, the other hand braced on his knee. "Please, god, stop," Mick gasped between ragged chuckles. "I'm dying here!"
Barry laughed slightly and shook his head. "Sorry, dude. He just makes it so easy." Mischief lit Barry's eyes. "Then again, I'm beginning to kinda like how easy he seems to be."
Mick howled harder, stumbling over to plop down onto the loveseat beside Hartley so he could clutch his sides. Len growled louder and stepped forward again, putting him almost chest to chest with Barry. "Is this some sort of joke to you?" he demanded.
Barry tilted his head and stared at Len for a couple of seconds. His lips twisted into a half smirk. Then he leaned forward slightly and slotted his mouth along Len's. Hartley and Mick watched in stunned silence as Len quickly reached up and wrapped a hand around the back of Barry's neck, his other tightly gripping Barry's hip. A few seconds later Barry pulled back, even though Len's hands tightened to try and keep him in place.
Barry licked his lips and smiled a little more seriously. "Hot," he whispered. Len smirked and started to lean back in, but a loud beeping from Barry's pocket surprised them all. He pulled out a phone and pressed a few buttons. "Fucking Wells." he said, sounding a little disgruntled. "Gotta go."
He moved quickly toward the door and slipped outside. Len, Mick and Hartley hurried to catch up. They were just reaching the back lot when the air in front of Barry shimmered and he stepped into it, disappearing from view.
"What the hell?" Mick whispered. "Was that...did he…"
"I've never known anyone who cussed that much," Hartley said weakly.
"Or kissed that well," Len muttered.
The three men slowly walked back into the warehouse. Once inside Len and Mick looked at Hartley. "Now," Len said slowly. "What do we do about you?"
Barry let himself into his apartment and kicked off his shoes before slinging his backpack toward the sofa and heading into the kitchen. He opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water, twisting off the cap and guzzled down half of it before heading toward his bedroom. He tugged off his sweatshirt and shoved his pants down his legs before sitting on the edge of the bed and kicking them the rest of the way off. He drained the rest of the water and tossed the plastic bottle into the small garbage can beside the bed before reaching for the flannel pants on the pillow.
"No need to get dressed on my account," Len purred, stepping away from the shadows by the closet door. Barry jumped up and spun around so fast Len was afraid he'd give himself whiplash. After a second recognition hit and Barry relaxed.
"Motherfucker! You almost gave me a heart attack!" Barry accused. He grabbed the pants and tugged them on before flopping down on the bed, burying his face in the pillow. "Turn out the light when you leave."
The side of the bed dipped as Len sat down and stretched his legs out, back braced against the headboard. He stared at Barry for a moment before poking him in the side. "We need to talk, kid."
"Not right now, we don't," Barry said, voice muffled by the pillow. "Sleep now. Talk later."
Len prodded him in the side again. "I have questions."
Barry made a sound that could have been either a sigh or a huff, but the pillow distorted it. He raised up on his arms and glared at Len. "Sleep," he grumbled.
Len smirked. "Talk."
Barry growled under his breath before one hand darted out and grabbing Len's shirt, jerking him sideways. Before Len could right himself, Barry had pressed his head into the crook of Len's neck and his arms were winding around Len's torso. Len shuddered as Barry pressed a couple of tired kisses to his neck.
"Sleep," he whispered against Len's skin. "Then talk."
Len groaned as most of his blood traveled south. Barry shifted slightly, moving so that his entire upper body was covering Len's. Len reached down and adjusted his growing erection so it wasn't pressing so hard against his zipper. He heard a sleepy mumble that tapered off into a light snore. Len closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around Barry's shoulders. "Kid, you're killing me," he mumbled.
Len opened his eyes and tensed at the unfamiliar surroundings. It took a second to remember where he was. It took another second to realize he was alone. Len scrambled off the bed and stomped to the door. He heard voices and paused, listening carefully through the partially open door.
"...so just do it. I already said you would be there," a female said firmly. "Wear that gray suit you got for Linda's wedding."
"No!" Barry whined. "Come one, Iris! This is what? The twenty-seventh time you've tried this! I have no interest in dating one of your girlfriends!"
"Well, Dad wants grandkids," the woman said. "Look, you don't have to fall in love with her. Just marry her and knock her up. Win, win."
"How is that a win for me?" Barry asked loudly. "I'm gay!"
"Pfft. So you say, but I have yet to see you date any man for more than a week. I'm beginning to think you're faking it just to annoy me," she argued. "Look, dad wants grandchildren, and I'm not putting my career, which is just starting to take off, on hold, so you're going to step up so I don't have to listen to anymore lectures. I want my Pulitzer, Barry! Besides, you'll make a great dad!"
Len looked around the room quickly and smirked. He pulled off his jeans and Henley and grabbed a pair of sweatpants off a chair. They said STAR Labs down one leg and were a little tight around the hips and ass, but he figured that him wearing Barry's clothes would help sell a fake relationship. He opened the bedroom door the rest of the way and faked a yawn as he headed into the living room.
"Babe?" he called out, rubbing his chest. He came to a stop just inside the room, widening his eyes as he spotted the petite African-American woman staring at him in shock. "Oh. Hello."
He pasted a smile on his face and moved to Barry's side. Barry got a far-off look in his eyes before amusement took over. He wrapped an arm around Barry's waist and pecked his lips. Then he turned to the woman. "You must be Iris. Barry's told me so much about you. I'm Len."
The woman pursed her lips as her shock turned to anger. "Funny. Barry never mentioned you."
Barry's arm slipped around Len's waist. "We haven't been together long," he defended.
Len turned and kissed Barry again before releasing him. "Hungry, babe?"
Barry tilted his head as his eyes drifted down to Len's ass. "Are those my sweats?"
Len grinned over his shoulder. "They look better on me," he replied. He smirked to himself as he heard Barry murmur an agreement. He listened hard as he opened the fridge door to see what supplies he had to work with.
"Who the hell is he?" Iris demanded in a loud whisper.
"That's Len," Barry answered. "My, well, 'boyfriend' sounds a bit childish for someone in his forties, so I'm going with 'significant other'."
"Forties!" Iris hissed. "He's dad's age!"
Len clenched his jaw in annoyance.
"Well, there's something to be said for an older man," Barry said calmly. "No worries about this just being a phase or experiment. He's got experience. Besides, did you see that ass? Or those eyes? He's gorgeous."
"Bartholomew Allen, this is outrageous! You can't date him! Oh god! Is he a sugar daddy? Get rid of him! What if Caitlin finds out about this fling? She'll cancel the date!"
Len was certain he heard her stomp her foot. He remembered what Barry said about his sanity if he ever met the young woman and realized Barry hadn't been joking. She was a harridan. He heard Barry give a long sigh. He fished out some eggs and peppers before looking in the cabinets for a bowl.
"Iris, unless you want to see me getting naked with my significant other, I suggest you leave now. Because I'm heading into the kitchen to see if I can coax him into table sex."
"Eww! You eat on that table!" Iris whined. Len heard the front door open, but there was a pause. "I'm telling dad about him!" Then the door slammed shut.
Len was whipping together eggs, cheese and green peppers by the time Barry walked into the kitchen. Len paused and turned to face him with a smirk. "Table sex?"
Barry snorted as he crossed to the coffee maker and poured himself a cup. "Got her to leave, didn't it?" he asked, adding a spoonful of sugar. He walked over to peer into the bowl before sitting at the table. "So, you wanted to talk?"
Len tilted his head and braced his hands on the counter behind him. "You know, I'm beginning to think you're all talk, Allen."
Barry froze, cup halfway to his lips, and looked at Len seriously. "Be careful what you ask for, Len," he warned softly.
Len pushed away from the counter and was about to try for another kiss when the light overhead flickered and blew in a shower of sparks. Barry groaned, set aside his cup and let his head fall back.
"Monkey balls," Barry grumbled looking at the light fixture. "I swear that sonuvabitch does that on purpose!" He turned his head so he was looking at Len. "Sorry, in advance," he whispered before clearing his throat and shouting "In the kitchen, you big yellow bastard!"
Len's jaw dropped when a…a thing walked into the kitchen and cuffed Barry on the back of the head. Larger than Mick, the creature had yellow skin and small horns on his head. His eyes were blood red and his hands ended in talons. The weirdest thing (which really tested Len's powers of reason) was that he was wearing a tight, long-sleeved red shirt, red booty shorts, brown ankle boots and long black cape. (A demon in booty shorts? Seriously?)
"I said to him,
I said to he,
wake me not,
leave me be."
"Don't start," Barry glared, pointing a finger at the pouting demon. "It was an emergency and you damn well know it!"
"The deal we forged
through fire and skin
hold both of us bound
to the man within.
A reckoning to come.
A debt to pay.
You owe me youngling.
What have you to say?"
Barry groaned and thumped his head on the table a couple of times. "Gone now, O' Etrigan, and rise once more the form of man."
Len stared in shock as the (petulant?) demon disappeared in a haze of smoke and fire and was then replaced with a handsome man without leaving behind even the faintest scorch mark. A thick streak of white parted his dark hair. He had dark brown eyes and a tired smile on his thin lips. He slumped into the chair across from Barry and reached for Barry's coffee which he drank in one long gulp. "Sorry, Barr," the guy yawned. "You know how he gets."
Barry raised his head a few inches and glared. "He's a hardhearted bastard and I hope his shitty horns fall off!" Barry stood and refilled his cup, handing it back to the guy before grabbing another cup and filling it for him. "Also, his rhymes suck."
Barry took a tiny sip of the scalding liquid before moving to stand beside Len. "Jason Blood, Len. Jason is the human host for my bad poetry spewing demon ally, Etrigan. Len is one of the thieves I met running from Grodd."
"Grodd?" Len asked while eyeing Jason with suspicion.
"Gorilla. The telepathic one," Barry clarified, as if Len might know more than one.
"The reason I'm here," Jason added. "Etrigan did some investigating."
"He pestered Bats with shitty rhymes until he gave in and hacked ARGUS," Barry guessed.
Jason nodded. "Grodd is a military experiment. They're trying to build disposable soldiers with enhanced abilities or powers. Wells was a consultant on the project."
Barry groaned. "Of course he was. I should really just kill him and be done with this mess."
"Don't. Not yet," Jason warned. "You know what Rip said."
"Rip needs my foot up his ass," Barry muttered. "It's his fault this got so fucking screwed up. Time master, my aching balls."
Len understood absolutely none of that.
Jason finished his coffee quickly and stood. "Well, I'm going to go home and snag some sleep. Nice to meet you, Len."
Len was silent for a full twenty seconds before turning his head toward Barry. "Two days ago I considered my life to be fairly exciting. Plan a heist, execute the heist, fence the take and celebrate with drinks. Now I've been exposed to experimental gorillas, a demon, a harpy named Iris and a guy who disappears into thin air. Which, by the way, makes me wonder why you were running from Grodd if you can do that."
"The portal isn't me," Barry said. "That's Jason's work. He's a magic user. I tried to call him before I ran into you guys, but Etrigan was in control and he likes to torment me. I had to wait until Jason was back in charge. When he was, he sent me a text telling me Wells was getting antsy and about to start tracking me, then he opened the portal so I could get back to the city."
Barry walked around Len and poured the egg mixture into the skillet and began cooking. "Wells was a speedster. He had the ability to run faster than the speed of sound. Apparently, I am supposed to be, too. He tried, or rather tries, to kill me in the future, but that doesn't work out so well. When that failed he time traveled to the past to try and kill me before I get my powers. Unfortunately for him, he changed the future by coming to the past. Now I don't become a speedster, and he's trapped since he needs the speed I would have been able to harness to slingshot himself back to his time."
Barry grabbed a loaf of bread from on top of the fridge and dropped some slices into the toaster. "Rip Hunter is a time master, a sort of time cop. He followed Wells back here and is trying to restore the time stream to how it was. I'm not being very cooperative, though. I have no interest in being a speedster. I caught a glimpse of that future, and let me tell you," he said, pointing the egg covered spatula at Len, "it's fucking horrible. Nothing but pain, lies and more pain for me. Anyway, by trying to avoid it, I inadvertently made more changes to the future. I didn't become a CSI, which led to me meeting Jason and Raven when I changed my major in college. She's the daughter of a demon and Jason has Etrigan bound to him. Then I met Oliver, the Hood in Starling City, in a different way that I was supposed to, which led to him and Sara getting back together. When Wells set off the particle accelerator in a desperate attempt to force me into superpowers, that's what gave me my ability to see glimpses of possible futures instead of me being super fast. It comes in handy when making decisions. I can see which one has the best possible outcome."
Barry separated the eggs into two plates and buttered the toast. He carried the two plates over to the table and turned back to Len who was staring at him with glazed eyes.
"Too much?" Barry asked.
Len swallowed and gave a slight whimper (which he would deny vehemently). "That's...quite a story," he managed to say.
Barry stared at Len for a moment before taking a step closer. Slowly he lifted one hand and lightly traced Len's bottom lip with two fingers. "I wonder," he said softly, "would you look this spaced out after sex?"
Len's eyes sharpened as he sucked in a breath between Barry's fingers. "Kid, I wouldn't tease if I were…"
His words were cut off as Barry leaned in and kissed him gently. Len responded immediately, pulling Barry flush against him and wrapping his arms around him tightly. Barry's arms wound around Len's neck as his lips parted for Len's tongue. When they finally parted, both of them were breathing heavily. Barry pressed his forehead to Len's and sighed.
"If you leave now," Barry whispered, "you'll never have to deal with the shitstorm that is my life. You'll go back to your plans and celebrations. You'll have the life you always expected you would. We'll never cross paths again and soon you'll forget you ever met me."
"If I stay?" Len whispered.
Barry shivered as Len's breath ghosted over his lips. "Things will get crazier. Aliens, death cults, a gallery of thieves and heroes all working in tandem, time pirates and so much more. Your life will be dangerous and exciting and, at times, painful. But I'll do everything in my power to make you happy. We'll laugh and fight and love one another. I'll never leave your side. I'll love you until I draw my last breath."
Logically, Len knew he should go. He needed to step back and analyze. He needed to plan. This was all happening too fast. Two days ago he had never imagined there were telepathic gorillas or demons. He had never prepared for meeting a fascinating, strange young man with innocent doe eyes and a filthy mouth. He never planned to fall in love practically overnight.
For the first time in his life, Len decided to jump without a plan.
He tilted Barry's head back and kissed him hard before dragging him back toward the bedroom. Their breakfast was forgotten as they spent the rest of the morning in bed discovering Barry actually did have a bit of a daddy kink, and Len definitely wasn't too old to give Barry a ride.