Barry's eyes shift from the page of equations in front of him off to the side, to where Len is sitting on Barry's bed, embroiled in another espionage thriller, this one written by Mark Henshaw. Joe happened to have it lying around, and he offered to let Len read it. An hour later, and he looks like he's almost done. Len on his bed, reading quietly while Barry does his homework - that's nothing new. Len hijacks Barry's room to read all the time. He says that the walls in his house are paper thin, and his sister insists on blasting her music when their dad isn't home.

Barry was never convinced that was the real reason, but it seemed like an imposition for him to ask.

He still hasn't.

But this time, Len in his room, reading a book while Barry finishes up a chemistry assignment that isn't due for another two weeks…things are different. This time, Len's not just his friend. He's something more. Boyfriend? They didn't actually discuss it, and, again, Barry didn't ask.

He didn't want to hear the answer no.

Barry knows that this relationship with Len has very specific rules. No PDA. No affection out in public, none at school, and definitely nothing in front of Len's father. In fact, Len's whole house is off limits.

Lisa knows, though.

Joe and Iris – not yet, though Iris might suspect. Barry has noticed a funny new glimmer in her eyes when she passes him in the halls, both at school and at home, and a peculiar lilt in her voice when she says, "Hey, Barry. What's up? Anything new going on in your life?"

Barry and Iris live together. They have seven out of eight classes together. She would know if something new had happened.

But she doesn't know this.

He'll break down and tell her…soon. He just wants to find the best way. There's no rush to, really. Things between him and Len are moving at a crawl, and that suits Barry fine. He has to resolve certain things inside himself, too, so slow doesn't bother him.

Except, now he's not sure how to act when Len's around. What does Len expect him to do? What should he do just because?

"Uh…" Barry turns in his chair to look at Len. Len doesn't look up from his book. "Are you…okay?"

Len's eyebrows draw together as he continues on to the next page, his upper lip curling in an amused smirk. "What do you mean, am I okay?"

"I mean, like, are you comfortable?" Barry asks. "Not too hot? Not too cold? Because I could turn on the a/c, or…you know…the house heater."

Len shakes his head. "Nope. I'm good."

"Good," Barry says, returning to his equations. "That's…that's good."

Len nods as if to agree that it is, and returns to his book.

Barry looks at the equations in front of him, not a single one making any sense with these weird feelings swirling around his brain. His homework might as well be written in Sanskrit. Barry puts his pencil to his paper a few times, writes something, erases it, then rewrites the same thing over even though he knows it's wrong.

Barry sighs. He turns back to Len, still focused on his book, in no way experiencing the same conundrum that Barry's currently suffering.

"Uh…did you want something to drink?" he asks. "Or eat?"

"I know where the kitchen is, Allen," Len replies. His eyes bounce back to the top of his page, Barry's question having thrown off his flow.

"Yeah," Barry says. "Yeah, okay."

Barry goes back to his homework, but it's no use. At this point, even his heading at the top of the page makes no sense. He's not even sure he spelled his name correctly.

A few feet away on the bed, Len gives up on his book. He puts a tissue from a box Barry keeps beside his bed in the spine to save his place, and sets the thing aside.

"So," he says, folding his hands in his lap, "did you want to do anything today? I mean, besides homework, because Lord knows, Saturdays were made for homework."

"Well," Barry says, facing him, "I was thinking that we could go to a movie? You know, if there was something you wanted to see. Because there's a couple of things that I want to see, but I don't know if they'd interest you. I mean, we haven't really talked about that, or…or we could go to that exhibit downtown at…" Barry sees Len raise an eyebrow, and reconsiders that option. "Maybe not. We could go bowling. Oh, but, you know, not the bowling alley here in Central City because everyone we know from school will probably be there, and that might not be…a good idea…with you and me…" Barry watches as the corners of Len's mouth twitch, then curl up into a slightly sarcastic, but mostly teasing, grin. "I'm…rambling, aren't I?"

"Yeah, Barry," Len agrees. "You are."

"Sorry," Barry says, running a hand down his face, almost poking himself in the eye with his pencil, which he forgets to put down.

"What gives?" Len asks. "You've been acting like this the last few days I've been over here, and frankly, it's beginning to creep me out."

"I'm…I'm sorry," Barry says, unable to think past that one word. "I know I have. It's just…" He deflates. Shoulders slumping, he drops his head in his hands, and this time, he does poke himself with his pencil, right on his cheekbone, giving himself an unintended freckle.

"Barry, would you be this self-conscious if you and I weren't dating?"

"Yes," Barry answers quickly, thrown off by the word dating. "No," he recants just as quickly, hoping that this isn't something Len would break up with him over, this awkward inability to be comfortable around him now that they're…whatever they are. "I…I'm not sure."

"Look, just chill out," Len says, going back to his book, picking it up off the bed and running a finger over the words on the cover. "Don't feel like you have to entertain me or anything. Act the same way we used to, right?"

"Right," Barry says with a relaxed smile since Len seems willing to move forward with this. "You're right. Thanks."

Barry goes back to his equations, the numbers and chemical values falling neatly into place now that he's centered. He puts his pencil to the paper and begins jotting down the answers, wondering where they'd been hiding this whole time.

"Except for one thing," Len says.

"Hmm" - Barry lifts his head – "and what's that?" He looks at Len. Len looks back, eyes serious, his expression more reserved than Barry's used to seeing on Len.

"Kiss me, Barry," he says, or he asks. They sound similar, but with minute differences in between. He's asking for a kiss, knowing Barry won't refuse him, but still, somewhere deep, worried that he might.

Barry glances over at the door, making sure it's locked. He stands from his desk chair and climbs up on the bed. Len reaches out and grabs Barry's hips, leading him the rest of the way to his lap, parting Barry's legs with one hand so he'll know to straddle him. Len doesn't give Barry time to second guess himself. He never does. He wraps his arms around Barry's waist and pulls him forward. This way, they kind of fall together, Barry's hips settling flush against Len's, his arms finding themselves looped over Len's shoulders. Their lips press together with Len very much in control. But he gives in a little. He shows Barry how he likes to be kissed, then backs off to give Barry room to try for himself.

And God, Len thinks when Barry sweeps his tongue inside Len's mouth and Len moans low in his throat, is he a fast learner.

Barry does it again, desperate to hear that moan repeated, but he feels Len's stifled laughter against his lips, and breaks their kiss.

"What?" Barry says, bothered by Len's instinct to chuckle at this particular moment.

"Nothing, Allen," Len says, pulling Barry back into his lap, making certain Barry feels how hard he's become after one kiss. "I think I just figured out what I want to do today."