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They left the Snart’s behind. Left the Flash with them, left the scientists that put them in the glorified prison cells without so much as a trial with the Flash and somehow made it close to Mark’s old haunts without being seen or recongnised. Far enough from Ferris Air Fields but not close enough to feel safe.
Roy’s hand was constantly reaching up slightly, fingers brushing up against Mark’s but never fully grabbing it, even when Mark followed every twisted turn of the alley ways into the depths of the city.
To say Mark and Roy had become close would be a gross understatement. Their cells were always facing each other, and always far away from the other metas. Leshawn’s was in the depths of the accelerator, in a section where the light never reached just in case the tint in her cell were to suddenly vanish. Nimbus’s was practically at the enterance, so should he escape his first instinct would be to go through the large arch, which would set off sensors to alert the Flash and his merry band of scientists. Bates and Woodward didn’t stick around long enough for either Mark or Roy to care, and that Deathbolt fellow was a straight up asshole, who was kept on the second level, away from where anyone could hear him go on and in about the most mundane things.
Roy and Mark only really had each other. Neither were complaining about the company. Roy talked about his father, his art, his color-blindness and his powers. Mark talked about Clyde, his plane, his plans for revenge.
They actual talked about revenge a lot. It was on the list of “Things to do once out of Flash’s basement”. First thing to do was find a place to lay low for a while, second thing was to get some decent food with a good drink and sleep in a real bed, third was to find a source of income, fourth was to plan revenge. Mark repeated the list in his head for weeks until it was the mantra to calm him.
Shelter. Food. Cash. Revenge.
Shelter. Food. Cash. Revenge.
Though few weeks in the clink with a grumpy painter who had loud opinions of Picasso and Bicardi changed the list. Changed his plans entirely. Soon, Mark was more concerned about what would happen to Roy after his, later their, escape. Where would Roy go? Who would watch out for him?
Those questions became drastically different after successfully making Roy laugh so hard, tears prick at the corner of his eyes. Now the questions were “where will I take Roy to keep him safe? What will Roy want to eat once we find a place to stay? What will I do if someone wanted to get Roy back in STAR Labs?” Mark was mature enough to about the mood-alternator stole a hell of a lot more than money from banks. Mark had fallen, as cliched and childish it sounded. But Mark had had enough taken from him, he wasn’t going to let anything else slip through his fingers. He’d confess his feelings to Roy after the list was completed.
So the list changed. It became-
Shelter. Food. Cash. Revenge. Roy.
But even as they silently marched away from the Snarts and Flash and the weird Mexian scientist who gave them his mom enchiladas the list changed again.
Shelter. Food. Cash. Roy. Revenge.
Roy’s ginger brushed up against Mark’s again.
Shelter. Food. Roy. Cash. Revenge.
Roy hummed lowly, eyes darting around them behind the aviators that hindered his powers, watching for threats, maybe the Flash.
Shelter. Roy. Food. Cash. Revenge.
They passed another abandoned alley way, less than two blocks from a safe house Mark and Clyde had used for a few months before the Partical Accelorator exploded. Mark stopped to remember if it was a left or right turn, and Roy stumbled into him. The warmth, the closeness, the choked gasp tipped the scales fully.
Screw it, shelter can wait for a few minutes.
Not pause much to think about his actions, Mark shouldered Roy to the alley wall, right out of the yellow light of a dying bulb.
There might have been a protest from the smaller man, but it was quickly silenced by Mark’s mouth, bringing the two into a searing kiss.
For a half second, Roy didn’t even move, and Mark feared the worse.
Pale hands grabbed Mark’s dark coat and pulled him even closer to Roy. The wizard groaned in apperciation.
Mark’s lips and scruff drag roughly across the soft skin of Roy’s neck as the other meta gasped and quickly gritted his teeth to kill the noise.
Well, that wouldn’t do.
Callused fingers (years of lock picking are murder on the young hands of delinquent teenagers) dig into the brown leather jacket, quickly slipping beneath to push at the black turtle neck sweater. Roy groaned and lurched forward, his head resting on Mark’s shoulder.
Mark smirked at this accomplishment.
“My my, Roy…” the wizard drawled. “Don’t I get a thank you?” One hand left Roy’s side and trailed up to the back of his neck, where those fingers curled around the short hair there. “I kept you company in that hell hole, talked to you, made you feel safe.” Mark leaned foreword more, pushing his partner into the damp brick wall behind them.
Roy huffed and tilted his head back, distancing himself to breath. “Is this about Snart? God, please say no.”
“You did thank him.”
“He broke us out.”
Mark’s hands released Roy’s hip and neck and slammed the wall open palmed.
“Not important!” Mark roared. Before Roy could even had a chance to think of a response, the wizard grasped the other’s face and brought to his, kissing him in a filthy manner, effectively causing the other man to freeze before melting into the embrace. A low noise rose from the back of Roy’s throat, Mark gladly swallowing the noise when it passed between teeth.
“Mark…” Roy managed to whimper against the others mouth before another onslaught of hard kissing silenced him.
The wizard slipped those stupid glasses his partner always wore off his face, letting them drop to the alley’s ground as he nuzzled Roy’s soft neck again, nipping and sucking at the barely exposed flesh. Mark hated the turtle necks almost as much as the stupid aviators.
Roy, not trusting himself to completely control his powers while he was so distracted, closed his eyes tightly, willing himself to stay calm, to even his breath. The last thing Roy wanted to do was accidentally sent off Mark into a rage or something.
“You know, I‘d like to see what you’re doing.” Roy was proud of the fact that he didn’t manage to stutter as Mark sucked particularly hard at a sensitive spot behind his ear.
Mark paused his ministrations long enough to reply. “And I’d like to pin you to a decent bed.” To emphasize his point, he rolled his hips into Roy’s, practically smothering the smaller man with his body. “Your point?”
Roy’s hand came to his mouth to smother his gasp.
“Baby, I like to hear the noises you make.” Mark moaned into the collar of the sweater.
Roy swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple moving beneath Mark’s teeth. “Get me to a decent bed, then.” He half-heartedly demanded.
Mark smirked, pressing his lips into Roy’s once more, harder and promising as a new list was forming in the wizard’s head.
Bed. Roy. Kiss. Strip. Pin. Bite. Etc, etc, etc.