Warnings: explicit sexual content; pain play; unhealthy relationships

Pairings: Jaime Reyes/Bart Allen

Summary: Based on a tumblr ask/prompt for: "Khaji Da taking over Jaime's body, and taking advantage of Bart" with some alterations to make the focus more Jaime/Bart.

Ever since Jaime's last encounter with the Reach, the scarab hasn't been acting the same. But when Jaime tries to pull away, Bart always pulls him back in.

Credits: This is a non-profit, fanmade work. All characters are owned by DC. This fanfiction was written and created by me.

A/N: To celebrate my 100 followers on tumblr, I accepted 5 prompts to write shortfics for. This is one of them. Was very excited to write this, I love Bart and it was a good opportunity to write some angsty smut.

Content warnings for general angst, pain-play, and misuse of Bart's accelerated healing powers.

Bart gasped sharply, his voice nearly lost in the sounds of the scarab's clicking.

"Jaime—"

"I'm sorry," Jaime said, and he meant it.

Jaime's willpower pulled the claw back but the damage was already done. A thin line of red marked Bart's side, near his ribcage. Jaime watched, almost mesmerized, as a drop of blood swelled in size and color—before crawling over the contour of Bart's body, a trail left in its tracks.

Bart's accelerated healing quickly went into work and Jaime was momentarily frozen, watching as Bart's body put itself back together. Stitching itself up.

The cut disappeared. Jaime's shame did not.

Bart's arms wrapped tight around Jaime's neck, bringing him in closer. Pulling him in before he could pull away. The hard concrete was unforgiving on Jaime's hands and knees, but his body seemed to naturally fall into the embrace. His eyes instantly closed shut, nose buried in Bart's soft hair.

When he breathed in, Bart was all he could smell. All he could feel. There was this comfort, almost relief, that came with the embrace. All at once, Bart's warmth could surround him, cocoon him.

For a moment, it could just be them.

"Don't be," Bart said. His breath tickled against Jaime's ear, and Jaime knew that he meant it too.

A sudden jolt went down Jaime's spine. Instinctively, his hands on Bart's hips gripped tighter, thumbs digging into soft flesh. Bart groaned deep, the sound muffled behind closed lips. His whole body tightened up. Jaime's eyes nearly rolled back, his cock squeezed. It felt so good—but his guilt managed to bite down on his tongue before he could moan in response.

"We should stop."

He didn't want to stop. It was awful, but he liked Bart this way. Liked the way that Bart clung to him, like he needed him. Liked the way he gasped and the way his spread thighs trembled at every unexpected moment. Liked the heat of his body, the sweat on his skin, the visible flush that spread from his face to his neck to his chest. Liked the way his leaking cock pressed between their bodies, hot against Jaime's lower abs, still erect despite everything.

It was awful, but Jaime didn't so much as hate hurting Bart as much as he hated not being the one in control.

The scarab hadn't been the same ever since Jaime's last encounter with the Reach. It kept acting up. Kept going into defense mode every time his heart rate accelerated.

And the more Jaime fucked Bart, the harder it was to control it. The harder it was to fight back. He could feel the heat in his spine. Hot metal on his skin. Could feel the scarab's legs crack and twitch, the sensation pulsing through him as if they were extensions of his own body. The clicking as loud and close to his ears as Bart's voice.

"Don't stop," Bart said. Legs spreading wider, hips rising off the hard floor. Jaime could feel it—Bart pushing back against his cock, their hips meeting. Jaime's voice, unfiltered, comes out in a deep groan. The fire started at his spine and travelled outward, filling every space inside of him. His blood burned and sang and lived. Jaime was buried impossibly deep, down to the base, balls pressed against him. He rocked forward with some force, Bart's grip around his neck tightening.

Jaime's head went hazy. He buried his face in the crook of Bart's neck. Tasted the sweat on his skin with lips and tongue. Could smell the perspiration and sex in the air.

Bart's breath was steadily quickening. His body rose up to meet Jaime's, over and over again. It fuelled Jaime's lust, made him fuck harder. Faster.

The clicking again.

Jaime gritted his teeth.

Stop.

Jaime couldn't shut it out. Couldn't shut him out. He could feel that metallic, scratching sensation of the scarab crawling across his skin. His eyes fully opened as he watched his arm—pillowed beneath Bart's head—turn blue, its color shining with the luster of a beetle's casing. Taken aback, he didn't pull back in time as one of the scarab's limbs jutted out from his back, snapping and twisting, and reached for Bart. The claw managed to nick at Bart's face before Jaime's hand wrapped around it, forcing it back.

"You're hurting him," Jaime said, his voice a growl, but Khaji Da didn't respond. Didn't reason.

Jaime tried to calm himself. If he didn't calm himself, he'd lose control. But that thought only increased his nerves, his heart steadily racing faster and faster. The whirring of the scarab's limbs were constant now, an unpredictable threat. Long black shadows danced across the wall, across Bart's face.

This was a bad idea.

Jaime started to move away from Bart. To his surprise, Bart grabbed him. Jaime could have pulled away, if he really wanted to, but the desperate look in Bart's eyes made him pause.

"You can't hurt me."

"I already have."

"Please. I'm so close."

Jaime knew it was a bad idea. But he found himself pushing forward anyways, sinking back into Bart, inch by inch. Bart's back arched, taking him in. Taking in all of him. An elongated moan slipped past his lips, his breath shuddering at the end. Jaime muttered a curse, his cock pulsing inside of Bart. Bart wanting him was always going to weaken his resolve, weaken his control. Bart yanked him back in, their lips meeting hard.

Jaime could feel it in Bart's kiss. Could feel it in the way Bart met his thrusts. Could hear it in the steadily increasing volume of Bart's voice, each moan vibrating against his lips, the sounds filling Jaime's ears. Bart wanted this. Bart wanted him. And it filled with Jaime with this sort of love, sort of pride, that Bart was willing and wanting despite everything.

The kiss was interrupted by Bart's wince. He sucked in air between his teeth, his body tensing, as a claw raked against his arm. The cut was long and angry. Jaime didn't stop—Bart begged him not to stop. If anything, he moved more fervently, like a race toward the finishline. His thrusts became erratic and desperate, pushing into tight heat. The sounds of their fucking filled the otherwise empty hall. Knees rocked on the hard surface, pushing them closer to the wall. Bart reached up to block his head and Jaime leaned down, kissing the already healed cut on Bart's arm, the remaining blood staining Jaime's lips red.

He could taste the blood on his tongue.

Warm. Metallic.

Bart trembled, his entire body twisting off the ground as the scarab marked him again and again. All three bodies moved faster now. The sounds that punched through the air matched the thud of Jaime's heartbeat. Everything became blurry, mind swimming in senses and pleasure. A single-minded focus took over Jaime's thoughts—he had to keep going. Had to keep drilling into Bart, deep and hard.

Jaime wasn't even focused on the climax. His nerves were on edge, pleasure dancing across his flesh. Each reaction from Bart drove him mad. And the cuts—the cuts no longer scared Jaime nearly as much as they should have. Bart can take it. He wants it. He wants me. Bart's breath shook with each of Jaime's thrusts. His voice broke with each of Khaji Da's slashes. But he still clung to him, still gasped Jaime's name. Still kissed and touched Jaime's skin.

Jaime's hands, one flesh, one metallic, moved down Bart's sides. His face hot, he watched as Bart sucked in each breath, his small ribcage tightening. Watched as the cuts on his body shrunk, dots of pink and red stained on his flesh. Jaime's fingers wrapped around Bart's cock. Bart grabbed him. Hard. Blunt fingernails digging into Jaime's forearm. A rush of heat spread through Jaime's body, the reaction only making him hotter. Jaime's hips rolled forward, his hand simultaneously stroking Bart. Again and again.

Bart was loud now, his voice a series of moans and whines. He didn't push back—he laid there, hands closing and opening around Jaime's arms, eyes closing shut.

Bart suddenly breathed in—then went silent. Jaime looked into his face. Watched as pink lips parted, his body bucking up. Tension, then release.

Hot, thick seed spilled in Jaime's hand and on Bart's stomach. A gasp crawled up Bart's throat, followed by a long, almost breathless, moan. Jaime's eyes clenched shut, feeling Bart's hole tighten and relax around his cock. Heat pooled into Jaime's stomach, a groan escaping him.

Bart was still gasping by the time his body finally sagged back to the ground. Jaime's body was still hot, the scarab still moving behind him, his cock still hard and pulsing. Bart's head rolled back in his direction, catching his breath, strands of auburn hair plastered to his forehead, long bangs in his eyes.

Before Jaime could think to say anything, he felt Bart move. Jaime flinched, his cock twitching in response to Bart grinding down on his cock. He still needed that release. Still needed Bart.

Jaime looked into Bart's eyes, which stared back.

"Don't stop."