Barry lodged a pillow under Wells’ hips and moved his legs upward and apart.
He’d assumed being manhandled and exposed like this would be uncomfortable for Wells, but maybe Wells liked it. Maybe Wells liked the exact reverse of all of the things Barry liked, not the least of which was Barry sliding lubed-up fingers against him.
And Wells... If he couldn't feel it, he watched it all.
And hell, porn got guys off without them feeling it, right?
Still. Barry wedged his thighs under Wells' and stroked his free hand over that firm, warm body, that bruised skin.
Maybe this really was the best way to take care of him, after everything he’d endured.
Another moment and he could’ve been killed, and who knew what memories that would bring back of the night his back was broken?