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The Assassin	By : NekoMalik Category: DC Verse Comics > The Flash Views: 978 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Flash,nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-The Assassin
- 1
“Yer sure aboot this?” Evan looked up from the pile of papers in front of him, placing the small tape player down on the table top as he stared levelly at the Weather Wizard, who had crossed his arms across his chest and returned the stare without blinking.
“You’ve seen the papers, heard the recording I managed to get for you, and you’re still doubting what I’m telling you? McCulloch, do you know what they’d do to me if they found out I was double crossing them like this?” Mark’s eyebrows knitted together in annoyance as he hissed quietly at the Mirror Master, keeping his voice low. There was little to no chance of them being overheard, but with Blacksmith it was always prudent to remain discreet if you wanted to keep your head.
“Aye, I know.” The Scot replied quietly, looking back down at the mixture of hastily scribbled notes and perfectly neat handwriting before him. Really, he shouldn’t have been surprised at the sudden turn of events; Blacksmith had been keeping a close eye on him, ever since he refused to assassinate what remained of the old Trickster’s family. Without warning, the volatile brunette slammed both fists down on the table, creating a large crack that ran from one edge to the other, though remarkably it remained in one piece.
“Calm it, Evan. We won’t let that bitch get away with trying to take us out, we’ll get her.” The Wizard pulled out a chair and sat, grabbing a beer from the small stack on the floor and popping it open, taking a long drink.
“Aye, the wee tart’ll git what’s comin’ to her, that’s fer sure.” Gritting his teeth, Evan slid back in his seat, feet knocking against Mark’s as he moved. “Where’s she get off tryin ta off me, anyhow?” Grabbing his own half empty can, he joined his friend in trying to drown his worries for a few short hours.
“Here.” Tossing a small packet of white powder across the table, Mark spared a wry smile for the Scot, before turning back to his drink. “I think you need this.” Len would kill him if he ever found out he was pandering to the brunette’s drug habit. But then, Len wasn’t there. He hadn’t been there for a long time, and he certainly hadn’t been there for them in years. Not since he’d lost Lisa.
“Thanks Mardon, how much do I owe yeh?” Evan began gathering together the scattered papers, placing them in a neat pile before carefully opening up the packet, setting a series of four lines up on the folder in front of him and quickly snorting the first one, sighing in relief as he slumped back again.
“On the house this time. I know you’re broke at the moment, so don’t worry about it.” It was common knowledge among Blacksmith’s new rogues that the Mirror Master wasn’t being paid for the time being; you don’t say no to a woman like Blacksmith without there being major consequences. They’d all assumed those consequences would simply be a lack of pay for a month or so, like usual. No one had thought the woman would decide to try to replace the Scot.
Evan could feel the intoxicating effect of the white powder almost immediately. It filled his sensed, sending his mind into a happy little spin, making his current situation seem rather less dire. A grin split his face in two, gap-toothed and not completely there, as he stared liddedly across at his companion. “Since yeh paid fer it, yeh may’s well have yer share.” The Scott drawled at the wizard, reaching across the table to beckon Mark over. Not needing much more persuasion than that, the slimmer of the two sauntered around the table, bending over to indulge in one of the bliss-inducing lines.
Mark had never really been one to actively seek out the thrill of drugs; he had alcohol, sex, pretty much anything else he wanted, there was never any need for it. Since Len left them though, since Blacksmith took over, he needed it. He needed the release, the calm, and the inevitable sex that always followed each delirious hit. He found himself in Evan’s lap before he really knew what he was doing. It was safe here, the brunette’s strong arms wrapped around his waist as the Scot simply held him, their combined euphoria enough for the moment. Nothing, and no one, could touch them here. Not even Blacksmith.
The second line they took before the high of the first started to fade, clearing the table of the telltale white mist, before collapsing in a tangle of limbs on an old mattress Evan had stolen from somewhere. Lips and teeth clashed as they pressed their bodies together, the skin-tight fabric of their costumes proving to be less of a barrier than one might expect, and leaving nothing to the imagination as green met orange, passion grinding together under the glow of moonlight and distant street lamps.
“A-aw feck.” Evan groaned quietly to himself, shuddering as his release hit, sending pulses of pleasure throughout his body, intensified by the drug coursing through his system. Mark simply grinned, pulling back to stare down at the panting brunette, rubbing the spandex-clad bulge between his legs as he watched the Scot continue to twitch and moan. The larger man wasn’t known for his ability to last, but he never seemed to go soft, which was a fact the wizard knew how to take full advantage of.
Peeling away the layer of tight fabric, slowly, sensually, revealing perfectly smooth skin beneath, Mark smirked down at his prey, watching the Scot practically devour him with his eyes. It took only moments before Evan was on him, pushing him down, sucking and biting at his long, slender neck, chewing at the unmarred skin until large, purple bruises began to form. The last of the wizard’s costume shoved down long, muscled legs, giving the Mirror Master full access to his lover’s body.
“Yer pretty s’always.” The brunette sighed, bending him over so he could press up against Mark’s ass, rubbing his own still-clothed shaft against the cleft as he reached around to fondle and tug at the raven-haired Rogue’s leaking shaft, needy groans sounding from somewhere deep within the Scot.
“And you talk too much...” Mark panted in return, reaching back to shove Evan’s belt out of the way and slipping his hand down into the lower half of the Mirror Master’s outfit, pulling his cock free so it could rub teasingly against his skin, sending shivers of anticipation through the wizard.
“Aye, but yer th’ wun wut cannae keep quiet.” Evan laughed, spitting on his hand and rubbing the wholly inadequate lubricant over his thick shaft, knowing he was about to hurt his bed partner but continuing regardless. Not that Mark would have it any other way, twitching and keening quietly as he pressed himself back onto the head that he could feel twitching at his entrance.
“Shut up and fuck me already, McCulloch.” Came the sharp command, Mark leaning back so he could turn to look his lover in the eye. Without warning, Evan surged forward, burying himself up to the hilt in the hot, tight body of the wizard. Any sort of pain that the smaller of the two might have felt was numbed by the drugs, movements eased by the blood, signals that would have made him scream in agony instead dragging howls of pleasure from his heaving chest. If Mark wanted to get fucked, Evan was more than happy to oblige, thrusting over and over into that willing body, pressing down on the raven-haired Rogue’s shoulders to angle his ass up higher, open him up more, and take everything and anything he wanted.
Harder, he wanted it harder, they both did, and Evan was more than capable of delivering. Solid, bone-jarring thrusts pushed against a part of Mark that made him moan loudly, hair matted against his forehead as a thin sheen of sweat began to form across his skin. He whimpered and groaned, yelped and twisted, pushing into the body he wished could claim him completely.
The build-up seemed almost torturous to the smaller man. Reaching down between his own legs, Mark gripped at his dripping shaft, tugging it in time to Evan’s frantic thrusts until he came, hard, white-hot seed covering his hand and the soiled mattress as the wizard threw his head back and screamed in pleasure. Impossible shudders of delight and desire ran through his body, violent tremors shaking both men, until he could take no more, collapsing down onto their makeshift bed. Nowhere near ready to end their lovemaking session, the Scot grabbed Mark by the hips, pulling him back up and holding him in place as he continued to plunge into that twitching, sucking hole.
Hours passed like minutes to the Scot, as he took every drop of the only love he was capable of and filled the wizard with it. Mark, exhausted, simply allowed Evan to do as he pleased, emptying himself inside the smaller man over and again, until he simply couldn’t any more, collapsing on top of his lover, still buried deep inside as he slid into an exhausted slumber.
Even in his sleep, the brunette kept hold of his occasional bed partner, eventually rolling over to wrap Mark up in a partly drunken, drug-induced embrace that, while neither was particularly embarrassed about it, would not be repeated once they were sober.
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The Assassin