A/N: Hey, guys :) Me again. This takes place before I've Got Soul but I'm Not a Soldier, but you don't have to have read that or anything to understand this one. It's just a bit of fluff, and it's in Barry's POV instead of Len's POV for a change. Barry's POV was actually a lot of fun to write - he's not as guarded as Len. I will be writing more one-shots and whatnot between them, some of which might take place before or after this, or after IGSBINAS, who knows xD We'll see how it goes. I just can't seem to let this die.

I hope you enjoy this as you have enjoyed IGSBINAS :)

And as always, reviews are greatly appreciated! I live for them :D

Story length: 2969

Begin!

A Pretty, Painted Picture

Barry Allen has always been a 'good boy', even if Joe might disagree. He tried a cigarette once; teen him lived for danger. But that's not his fault – when Henry Allen went to jail he told Barry to be the good boy his parents knew he was, and so he did his very best to not cause too many problems. Other than the occasional explosion from a failed science experiment, and that one aforementioned cigarette, he thought he did a good job of being a good kid.

He graduated high school with honors, and went to college, graduating in just a few years instead of the four or more it might have taken others. When something caught his interest, he had laser focus. And forensics definitely caught his interest, as did the thought that one day he could not only help people, but get his father out of prison, finally.

The one thing he almost regrets about not living wildly in his college days, is that he didn't get a tattoo. His roommate in college had some fascinating tattoos, claiming that the body was a blank canvas just waiting to be painted. But he was an art student, so of course he'd look at it that way. Barry entertained the idea of maybe getting one tattoo, perhaps in remembrance of his mom, maybe her name or something, or something that reminded him of her, but in the end he decided against it.

Joe would have a field day if he came home from college with a tattoo.

So to this day, he has never gotten a tattoo, though he is fascinated by them. They are all very intricate in their own way, and intriguing to look at. They give a glimpse into the psyche of the person wearing them.

Leonard Snart has a lot of tattoos, though his clothes mostly cover them up. Most of the time when they fall into bed together, it's dark, or they're in a hurry, so Barry can never take the time to fully appreciate the work of art that is Captain Cold's body.

That changes one night when his plans with Iris fall through; she's busy with Eddie, and suddenly Barry finds himself with a free night. He could go back to STAR Labs and pester Caitlin – which is fun, actually, because she's like his sister in that way that Iris never was because he had such a big crush on her for so many years – but sadly she said she was looking forward to a quiet night at home, and Cisco is busy tinkering with new toys.

So he winds up with some free time on his hands – a rarity, which is ironic considering he's the Flash and he should have a lot of free time on his hands.

He hesitates only very briefly before he pulls out his phone and shoots Len a quick text.

To Len: you busy?

Once upon a time he wouldn't have sent the message; he would have stared at the letters and then sighed, erased them, and pocketed his phone, opting instead for a night alone at Joe's while Joe was finishing up at work. Barry's never been very good at managing his free time; he always needs something to do to keep his mind focused, or he will start doing something random and crazy, like try and build an exploding volcano in his bedroom.

As a child, given too much free time, Joe would assign him little challenges. Clean this room perfectly in this much time – is it possible? Can you do the impossible, son? And he would. Every time. Or Joe would leave him with cooking instructions on a rather complex meal for a thirteen-year-old, and he would be in the kitchen for hours with his tongue poking out of his mouth as he concentrated with laser focus on the task at hand. And then inevitably he'd fail the cooking assignments because Iris would come pester him and they would begin a food fight which he'd clean up in the last few minutes before Joe came home.

The phone vibrates in his hand, distracting him from his thoughts.

From Len: Not anymore

Barry smiles; did Captain Cold just clear his schedule for the Flash?

What a silly thought, he decides. He and Len are merely… enemies with benefits, in a way. Nothing more, nothing less, even if they do stay up watching movies half the time, and the sex is starting to become a little secondary…

Hmm…

To Len: Be there in a flash ;)

He appears in the middle of Len's living room as Len is receiving the text. Len snorts and pockets his phone, sitting lazily on the couch with his other arm strewn over the back of said couch, fingers clasped around a bottle of beer. The look he gives Barry is half-lidded and amused, a smirk twisting his lips upward ever so slightly.

"What's up, kid?"

Barry sighs; he told Len to stop calling him that as he's clearly not a kid – he's twenty-five, after all! – but it was a losing battle. "Just had unexpected free time and who better to chill with than Captain Cold?"

Len snorts – his version of a stifled laugh. Getting Len to actually laugh is a bit of a challenge, but Barry's always enjoyed challenges. "Well, since you did flash over here…"

Barry smiles as Len shifts finally, sitting up properly, arm falling off the back of the couch. He's wearing a short-sleeved shirt for once – the man hardly ever takes off the parka, it seems – and along his arms, disappearing into his biceps and beneath the shirt sleeves, Barry can see the criss-cross of patterns painted across his skin in delicate variations – some lines thicker and darker, some lighter and thinner.

"Take your shirt off," he says without thinking, and then Len's kind of just staring at him and it's a little hot in here suddenly. He chokes on his breath, realizing what he said. "Uh – I didn't mean it like that…"

The smile Len gives him is slow and seductive. "Take my shirt off, hmm? What have you done for me lately?"

"Tchh," Barry scoffs. "I totally vibrated for you two days ago, and I used a pun today – I think that earns me bonus points."

Len chuckles. "I see. Well, since you did use a pun…"

And then he's taking his shirt off like it's nothing, and tossing it aside to land in a crumpled heap on the floor. Barry swallows and approaches the couch, tracking the lines of Len's tattoos. Len watches him with this bemused smirk all the while. This is the view Barry's had quite often, though, in bad lighting or quickly – he wants to see the rest, but he's never behind Len.

Len has issues about that, it seems.

He's always careful to keep Barry in front of him, or at his side. He'll adjust his body accordingly whenever Barry shifts so he's never behind him. There's probably a story there, deep-seeded trust issues, but he's not Len's boyfriend so there's really no reason to bring it up. Nope. Just a sometimes-fuck-buddy, which – okay, that sounds weird because he's a booty call, and that's just… no. A friend… enemy? That sometimes has sex with the other person. Sure, that. Why not. That's what they are – no reason to bring up the past or deep conversations. They aren't even friends. Nope.

They just converse over silly movies, falls asleep together some nights, and Barry can vibrate with him… and be himself with him… because he can't with anyone else…

But that's it.

And he's just kind of staring at Len right now, which is – no. He's not some flabbergasted teenage girl. He's a grown man and not a kid; he can do this.

"Turn around," he says as smoothly as he can manage, but he has little confidence in how it sounds to Len. Nope.

Barry Allen – Mr. Smooth he is not.

Len stiffens exactly how Barry expected he would. "Why?"

"I wanna see your tattoos," he says truthfully.

"You've seen them before."

"Not all of them, and not from the back," Barry says quickly. "And – okay, trust issues you have, I know, I know – but I'm not the Flash right now and I don't carry weapons. I have a laminate for crying out loud! So just – yeah?"

He has no idea if Len can make sense of a single word he said. They sit there awkwardly for a long moment, before Len finally sighs and shifts ever so slightly, so slowly, until his back is partially to Barry. Barry watches him for a moment, before he shifts his attention solely toward the tattoos winding up Len's arms, over his shoulders and back down his shoulder blades to form their own unique patterns on his back.

It's truly… beautiful. A work of art. His college roommate was completely right.

He doesn't realize he's reaching out until his fingers skim lightly against the outline of the tattoos, against Len's naturally cool skin. (But he's the Flash and naturally runs a bit warmer than usual, so maybe Len's just normal temperature and he's hot all the time.) Len stiffens considerably beneath his touch, and Barry stills, realizing what he's done. Len has trust issues and he's gone and just touched him without asking permission; maybe his tattoos are sensitive, who knows? He stays perfectly still for a long time, not moving away but not pressing further, and finally Len relaxes slightly, releasing a breath.

If someone told him he would see this side of Captain Cold one day… he would have laughed in their face and called him lying liars who lie. Now, though…

Friends with benefits, he tells himself.

That's what they are. Not enemies – not really, not anymore. Even on the battlefield, things have shifted; he doesn't fear for his life, even if he gets a few minor scrapes along the way. He knows Len won't actually hurt him. It's just a game – another challenge.

They might not be traditional friends, but they aren't strangers, and they aren't enemies. Not anymore. Enemies don't let their enemies touch their tattoos.

Enemies don't think their enemy's tattoos are breathtaking, either.

After Len relaxes, Barry's fingers trace the outlines further. Len doesn't stiffen again.

"Did these hurt?" Barry asks quietly, shattering the silence.

"Not really," Len replies. "They stung at first, but it was over quickly."

"I thought about getting a tattoo, once," Barry says, index finger following a line down the back of Len's ribs.

"You?" Len scoffs.

"Hey – teen me lived for danger. I even had a cigarette once."

"A cigarette," Len says mockingly. "The horror."

"I know, right?"

"What would the police think of you if they found out?"

"They might fire me," Barry sighs dramatically, fingers pressing the lines traveling down toward Len's lower back.

Len chuckles again. "Well, then I guess I better keep this a secret, too, huh?"

Barry snickers, unable to stop himself. "My knight in painted armor."

"You get any lower, kid, and we're gonna have to take this to the bedroom."

Barry realizes where his fingers are, and stops, smirking to himself. "You saying Captain Cold can't handle a little lower back fondling?"

"So you admit to fondling me? First a cigarette and now this?" Len shakes his head. "Honestly, what will the police think?"

"They'll lock me up and throw away the key, obviously."

"Maybe you should tell them to chill out."

Barry chuckles. "Maybe if I serenade them with puns, they'll reconsider."

"Not everyone gets the appeal."

Barry laughs but pulls his hands away, finally. "I like your tattoos," he says, because he can't see any reason to hide it.

Len shifts a little more – not to face Barry, surprisingly, but presenting more of his back to him instead. Barry's eyes trace over the rest of the tattoos half hidden before. "You missed a side."

"Are you saying you want my hands all over you?"

"Well, if you're offering…"

Barry laughs, unable to stop himself even as he reaches out with nimble fingers, quickly tracing lines down Len's back, feeling the smooth skin shiver beneath his fast, light touches. "Does someone have a sensitive back?"

Len snorts, but says nothing.

Barry continues his movements, admiring the painted picture present before him.

Tattoos are great, but they're even better against Len's tan skin, he decides. They'd probably look like crap against Barry's pale flesh. But Len is naturally darker than him due to some foreign ancestry – he's a pretty, painted picture.

And then he snickers, because – "Pretty."

"What did you just say to me?"

The indignation in Len's voice leaves him laughing. "Your tattoos are pretty."

"You did not just say that."

"Oh, I so did."

"That's it – you're in trouble."

And then he's shifting, Barry's fingers falling away from his skin as Len faces him, scowl present on his brow and lips but his eyes tell a different story. He flicks Barry on the forehead with his index finger, leaving him to release an indignant squawk.

"Rude," Barry protests.

"I am not pretty," Len says, practically spitting out the word. "You take that back."

"Never," Barry says, grinning.

Len's eyes narrow, but they're also bright with something, so Barry knows he's not really angry. Just… He's just protesting being called 'pretty', and as a man, Barry can relate to that. "Take it back."

"Chill out, Len," Barry says.

And then he can't breathe he's laughing too hard, because the look on Len's face is absolutely priceless.

"You did not just tell Captain Cold to chill out," Len states, daring Barry to say otherwise.

Well, he does like challenges…

"Oh, but I did. What are you going to do about it?"

"Oh my God, you two are just too cute," comes a girl's voice, startling them. Barry jumps about a foot in the air, nearly missing the couch when he comes back down, landing so very awkwardly as he turns his head to face the kitchen, where a dark haired woman emerges.

"I thought you were out," Len protests her presence.

"I was," she says with a giggle, "but I thought it was weird how you chased your own sister away, so I snuck back and hello…" Her eyes rake up and down Barry.

He feels naked. Naked under these clothes. How exposed.

"U-Uhm…" he manages to splutter, shooting to his feet. "I was just, uh – just leaving, so, you can, um…"

"Oh, no, don't leave on my account," the girl says with a laugh. "Honestly, Lenny – how could you not tell me you had such a cute boyfriend?"

Barry squawks, attempting to protest, but Len's already answering. "Well, if you weren't so nosy, I would have told you, dear sister."

We aren't dating, Barry thinks, but doesn't say. He's too shocked for words. And naked under these clothes – can't forget about that, and the way this woman's gaze seems to have x-ray powers. Maybe she's a meta-human. Oh God. She can see him under his clothes.

He backs toward the door. "U-Uh, right, I really should, uh – be going, yes, so-"

"No need to leave on my account," the woman says with a smile. "I'm Len's sister, Lisa. I don't believe I've had the pleasure of meeting you yet. Lenny here has kept rather quiet about his 'dates' lately."

Dates. Oh God. They aren't together. Just friends with benefits, sometimes. Sometimes. And sometimes they watch movies and poke tattoos. That's it. Nothing more. Nope.

Len mentioned having a sister, but Barry's never met her before.

She's terrifying.

"Uhm…" he says intelligently, shooting Len a glance. Does she know he's the Flash? Len said he'd keep it secret… but would he really keep that from his sister? Does Mick know, too?

"Lisa, meet Barry Allen, CSI for the CCPD," Len says casually, like he's not saying Barry's literally on the opposite side of the law.

Lisa's eyes widen as she looks at her brother. "Lenny," she hisses. "A badge, really?"

"He's a CSI, not a badge," Len says, like it makes a difference.

Lisa looks back at Barry. "Are you going to turn my brother in?" And she's got this stance and those x-ray eyes and no.

"Nope," Barry says quickly. "Who would believe me, anyway? Oh, yeah, I occasionally hook up with Leonard Snart AKA Captain Cold and yeah this one time we got caught by his sister and he let me touch his tattoos so we're totally – I mean – uh…"

Lisa bursts out laughing. "Oh, he's so cute, Lenny," she gushes with that smile. "Can we keep him? Please?"

"Don't you have somewhere to be, sis?"

"Not anymore, nope, absolutely not."

"I do," Barry chimes in. "I have – things… Things that are important. Important, timely things that need to happen right now, so I should, uh – be going."

Smooth, Barry, his mind scoffs.

Len nods. "See you around, kid."

Barry scoffs. "I'm not a kid, old man."

"I would hope the CCPD doesn't hire jailbait," Lisa comments with a smirk.

Barry's face is lava. It's going to melt off and he's going to walk around faceless, scaring little kids. "N-No, uh…"

"Go, Barry," Len says with a smirk.

Giving him an out.

What a nice guy.

Barry nods. "Um… nice meeting you, Lisa."

"Oh, it was such a pleasure meeting you," Lisa says with that grin again.

Barry swallows, nods again, and then quickly takes his leave. As soon as he's outside he taps into his speed and he's at Joe's house in a few seconds, collapsing heavily onto the couch.

Panting.

Glad to be away from that x-ray vision of Lisa's.

He's definitely going to have to ask Cisco if she might be a meta-human.