A/N: Well... I'm back with more of these two xD I just can't seem to stop with them. Oh well. Anonymous reviewer Coldflash asked me to write about how all of this started between them, so here's a bit of that :) I might add a chapter later, who knows xD I agonized over the title and wound up just sticking with the whole "All These Things That I've Done" by the Killers theme I have going on, so there's that. This was a mixture of fun and hard to write, so xD

Lemme know what you think! Reviews are love and make me want to continue :)

Story length: 5289

Begin!

Last Call for Sin

Barry's had a very long, rough day. Past few days, really. Past few weeks.

With the return of the Man in Yellow, dubbed the Reverse-Flash by Cisco – and even Wells agreed to the name, which is a bit odd – he's had a lot on his mind. That's the man who murdered his mother in cold blood and sent his father to prison for the past fourteen years. The same man who left Barry's life in ruins and left him stuck with therapist after therapist until he decided lying was easier – no, there was no man in yellow. His father still didn't kill his mother, but there was no ball of lightning with a man inside of it. That's crazy, of course not.

And it got him out of therapy.

Then the impossible happened to him – he's the Flash, and the Man in Yellow is back, and he's faster than Barry. His question to Wells still stands: How are they going to catch someone even he can't keep up with?

So he's been training day in and day out to become faster. Wells says it's working, that he is indeed getting faster, but it's still not enough. Wells assures him it will be, given enough time and practice. He said to keep in mind that the Reverse-Flash has had many years to get this fast; Barry's only had a few short months.

He'll get there.

So he spends his free time training, and ignores Captain Cold and his new fire buddy when they start acting up. Captain Cold has always been methodical and precise; why is he now breaking into places and leaving without taking anything? He did steal a painting, and the fire guy – dubbed Heatwave by Cisco – did injure some police, and after that Barry said he would fight Cold finally.

By the time he decided that, though, it was on the news that Caitlin was being held hostage by Captain Cold and Heatwave, and they wanted to fight the Flash. Why was completely a mystery to Barry; were they really that upset he was ignoring them and leaving them for the police to handle? The police seemed to give them a rough enough time, managing to damage Heatwave's flame gun and everything, so what was the big deal? One would think a robbery without the Flash involved to stop it would be a good thing, but apparently not.

So he agrees to fight them in public, letting the city know the Flash does indeed exist.

And he wins, and watches Captain Cold and Heatwave get cuffed and thrown into the backs of squad cars. They will be taken to Iron Heights after processing.

And that's that, really. Caitlin is safe, not harmed in the slightest. The bomb rigged to her was set to a timer so slow even a normal person could tackle her to safety in time, and Barry's not quite sure what to think about that, honestly. If they really wanted her dead, they could have done it so easily, but they gave Joe ample time to save her. It's confusing, because Leonard Snart and Mick Rory are bad guys.

He watched them get put into police cars and driven away in cuffs, so the last thing he expects to see the next morning outside of Jitters is Captain Cold himself, minus the parka and goggles. Just Leonard Snart, then. Barry's not sure how much is a persona he puts on during robberies and how much is the real thing – it reminds him a bit of himself, donning a costume and becoming a different version of himself.

Snart has this smirk on his face as he leans against the brick wall in the alleyway behind Jitters. Barry's only walking through there, in his Flash suit, because he was going to change here and go inside as himself to see Iris, since he has to hide that part of his life from her as per Joe's wishes.

For a long moment he stops and stares at Snart.

"About time you showed up," Snart says, all cool and collected. Maybe it's not a persona; maybe it's just him.

Barry stares at him for a moment, still wondering how he's there. "What…?" he asks, before a thought dawns on him. "Was all of that to get my attention? Seriously?"

Snart smirks again. It's this confident twitch of his lips Barry can't seem to look away from. He's always lacked that kind of confidence, and seeing it on his enemy's face, along with those too-blue eyes looking over seemingly every little inch of his body… "What? It's not all about you, Flash. But now that you're here – coffee?"

Is he…? What the hell is this?

Barry is so very, very confused. He woke up this morning thinking all was normal. After doing a bit of very early training, he wanted to get some coffee since he didn't sleep very well last night, up late processing what they had from the battle between Captain Cold, Heatwave and the Flash. Coffee was needed at that point, so he left to get said coffee for himself and everyone at STAR Labs. And now this. He's certainly not ready for this, whatever it is. What even is Snart doing?

"What?" he manages. "Are you…? Is this…? Are you flirting with me?"

Oh, God, did I really just ask that? That's so lame, of course he's not.

They're enemies, after all; that's ridiculous.

"Of course not," Snart says easily. "Merely asking if you would like coffee since we are outside of a coffee shop, unless you have forgotten your location, in which case I suggest medical help."

What a smartass.

A sarcastic asshole.

I don't understand; what's the game here? What are the rules? This is weird.

He's certain the Arrow never has this type of problem.

Why him?

"How did you get out of prison?" he can't help but ask.

At some point, Snart moved away from the wall. Barry only now notices how close the two are standing, just a few feet apart, and Snart's moving a little closer. He should move away. He stays put merely because what the hell is he doing?

"Never made it to the prison," Snart answers calmly, with a half-hearted shrug.

He's only a foot away now. Moving closer. Barry finally takes a small step back only for his spine to smack into the edge of a brick.

"How did…?" he asks, frowning.

"I have my secrets, Flash, just like you have yours. Now – coffee?"

Why is he still on about the coffee?

Barry's mouth is moving before he's sure of his words. "I'm not going in there in this suit, now that everyone knows I exist, thanks to someone."

What? So you'd do it if you weren't in the suit? No, absolutely not, I'm not telling him who I am. This is crazy. Speed away.

He doesn't. He stays put as Snart smirks at him again. Him and that damn, easy smirk.

"Alright," Snart says easily, "I know somewhere we can go if you're unwilling to lose the skin-tight leather."

Oh, for crying out-

"It's not leather," he says before he can stop himself, already scowling. "It's – never mind." And then a breath. "Tell me where."

Wait, is he actually considering this?

He is, he realizes.

Mostly because the last time he ignored Snart, it ended with Caitlin being kidnapped.

Better to just go with it, right? Besides, he doesn't see the cold gun anywhere on Snart, and he's not even dressed as Captain Cold, instead wearing a form-fitting blue sweatshirt and dark, faded blue jeans, along with a ball cap on top of his head, partially shielding his eyes if he looks downward a little.

He doesn't look threatening in that, Barry decides; he looks like a normal person, except for the fact Barry knows it's Leonard Snart AKA Captain Cold.

And yesterday they were fighting.

This can only end in disaster.

"Flash has a soft spot for coffee," Snart says, amused. "A kid after my own heart. Or is your soft spot for cold criminals?"

Ignoring the pun – he has that smirk again, and his eyes are looking over Barry very thoroughly.

He shifts uneasily. "See," he says, "that right there, that's what makes me think you're flirting."

Snart raises a brow. "And if I was?"

Barry stares at him for a long moment, uncomprehending. Is he really…? Did he just…?

He does an excellent impression of a fish, until finally Snart takes pity on him.

"All I'm asking for is coffee, Scarlet."

Scarlet.

He called him 'Scarlet Speedster' yesterday. He's not sure why that tone combined with that particular moniker leaves a series of chills inching along his spine like little soldiers of betrayal. Snart has a nice voice – deep and smooth and everything Barry likes in a man's voice, but oh well, because this is Snart, as in Captain Cold, and no.

No.

He shakes his head. No.

"See, you already agreed to go, Red," Snart says easily, "so you can't really back out of a deal, can you?"

"There's no deal," Barry says, because there's not. Snart's confusing him, that's all. "Have you forgotten we're enemies? You tried to kill me yesterday."

"Not kill you," Snart corrects with this quick scowl. "Challenge you, as you have challenged me. I need to know what you're capable of if we are going to do this more often."

"Do… what?"

"Come on, Scarlet – you can't tell me you didn't enjoy our little battle yesterday," Snart says. "Look how fast you ran, and you got the glory of capturing the bad guys. You can't tell me you didn't enjoy it just a little."

Barry opens his mouth to argue on pure principle, but finds he did rather enjoy running that fast, for so long, and thinking that quickly. Normal criminals, without meta-human abilities, don't really pose much of a challenge for Barry, and while meta-humans are challenging in their own right, they're easily taken down in the end because they suffer the same flaws as Barry does – like Nimbus, he couldn't stay in his mist form forever because it was draining; same thing with Multi-Plex, having that many versions of himself was physically taxing and eventually it gave him away, and Barry finished that fight.

But Snart…

He's a normal criminal, so he doesn't suffer the same flaws meta-humans seem to have. The same hindrances. Yet he's not just a typical criminal, because he thinks things through and is very precise and methodical, leaving nothing behind at crime scenes, which is the only way the police are usually sure it's him, because there's no evidence left behind. And now he has a cold gun, Barry's weakness. He's not a typical villain.

He's a challenge, and some primal part of Barry is drawn to that. He's always loved challenges, loved trying to figure them out and conquer them, so some simple part of his mind is eager to explore this particular challenge. The challenge of Captain Cold.

So he closes his mouth, and stares, because he has no words.

Snart smiles – it's not a smirk this time, but an actual smile. Barry can't help but think it softens his eyes, makes him look more human instead of a supervillain. Or maybe it's just because he's not used to being able to see his eyes in general, since he's always wearing those silly cold goggles. Who knows.

"Just coffee, Scarlet," Snart says simply. "You already said you'd come with me. I'm clearly not armed. It's just coffee."

Barry chews his bottom lip.

Nods, slowly.

"Lead the way," Barry says finally.

Snart's smirk is back, all carefree twists. "I imagine you can keep up with a motorcycle."

Barry snorts, unable to stop himself. Please. Motorcycles are so slow.

Snart nods, satisfied.

Then he turns and leads the way out of the alleyway. Barry wonders just how Snart knew he'd show up there, but says nothing.

Instead he silently follows after the criminal, wondering when exactly his life got so crazy.

xXx

Len takes the speedster to one of his safe houses, a less used one so there's little chance of them being interrupted. Len sometimes comes here to think; it's small and quiet, and usually dark unless he remembers to turn the electricity on, which he thankfully has this time. He stops the motorcycle and stops for a moment, looking around, and then there's the semi-familiar whoosh, blowing leaves off the ground in a splendid array, and the Flash is next to him.

A part of Len demands to know what he's doing, what his plan is.

In truth he doesn't really have one.

The last time he planned everything out, he was disappointed when the Flash didn't show up. After Lisa broke him and Mick out of the transport vehicle, she chewed him out for attempting something so 'stupid' in the first place, and demanded to know what his fascination was with the Flash. Mick said it wasn't simple fascination, but as an obsession instead, to which Lisa agreed.

Now he is merely sating his curiosity. Why is he obsessed with the Scarlet Speedster? Is he even obsessed or is it mere curiosity over the thing, the person, who challenges him? He enjoys challenges, after all; always has, and always will, and the Flash is his greatest challenge yet.

"Now what?" the Flash asks. He sounds young beneath the mask, and his eyes are guarded but bright; he's more curious than anything. Len wasn't lying when he said he was unarmed; that doesn't mean he doesn't know how to fight if need be, but for the moment the Flash has nothing to fear from him.

"Now we go inside, and I make us a pot of coffee," Len says simply, smirking at the flabbergasted look on the kid's face – or, rather, what he can see of said face. Not that he minds the costume; he's rather fond of red.

Plus the skin-tight leather doesn't hurt.

Len can admit the Flash is attractive, even without seeing all of him. That leather outfit leaves little to the imagination, and so far he likes what he sees. Maybe that's why he's curious about the Flash. There are many reason to be curious, though. The Flash is super-human; he has powers others don't, and it's amazing. Len can admit that. The Flash's speed is amazing, a miracle, and very, very challenging. It's forced him to up his game.

He enjoys their battles immensely. At first he thought it was a fluke, and thus recruited Mick to help him ensure that it really was nothing, and was a one-time occurrence. The second time was more intense than the first, with Mick's added heat gun. His opponent was even faster than before, it seemed – he easily dodged Len's blasts, and forced him to use real thought with said gun other than 'point and shoot'.

A challenge. Something that's been lacking for a very long time. Normal police can't stop Len; he leaves little to no evidence behind, so they can't really catch him. But the Flash can, and that's challenging, and he likes it.

Len leads the way inside the safe house once the Flash has finished his fish impression.

He's not sure what he wants out of this coffee meeting, though. He's not sure why he bothered. Curiosity, sure, but it seems more than that now. Leonard Snart is not the type of person to do something on a whim.

And yet here he is.

With this enemy, of all people.

The Flash walks stiffly behind him. When he sees the normalcy of the tiny safe house, with a very small kitchen and little to no living room, he stops in his tracks and stares, spinning in a very slow circle to look at the place from every angle. Len stops and watches him for a moment; the leather clings to the kid's skin, enhancing every little crevice as he turns. Len might be pushing forty, but he's still a man with basic needs and desires, and he prefers the male body to that of a female, and the Flash has all the right parts so far.

Maybe that's what this little coffee meeting is.

Who knows?

A part of Len rather likes the chaos – the risk. The challenge.

"Nice place," Flash finally says.

He seems genuine enough. Len's not used to that particular tone.

"Thanks," he says. "Kitchen is this way."

He leads the way through the mostly open area, if one could consider what they walk through an actual doorway. It's too wide for any door that Len knows of. It takes a second but the Flash eventually follows after him, clothes and feet barely making a sound. He's quick and silent, then – a good combination for a thief, not so pleasant when it's on the opposite side of the law, but again, he enjoys a good challenge.

The Flash stands awkwardly at the table while Len pulls out a pot to make fresh coffee. It will be ready soon, but for now there's this thick silence hanging around them like one of Lisa's uncomfortable, knitted blankets that's all scratchy but he uses it anyway, to please her. He doesn't like this silence, really.

"Take a seat," he says.

Flash blinks at him, before he sinks into a chair.

Len sits opposite him.

"This is so weird," Flash mutters.

It is odd, Len's mind agrees.

"Why am I here?" Flash asks, frowning at him.

"Coffee," Len says simply.

"Yeah, okay, but – why?"

"Because coffee is amazing, and you look like you could use some."

There's truth in his words – the Flash looks like he always does, but there's a little something extra in his eyes, darkening the green hue somewhat. And now that he's this close to the kid without having to wear his goggles or shoot his bright, cold gun, he can actually see that, yes, the kid's eyes are, in fact, green. Hazel, almost, but leaning toward the green side.

And the kid does look tired.

Flash stiffens briefly before he sits back in his seat, sighing. "That obvious, huh?"

Len shrugs. "I notice things; it's what I do."

"Right. Gotta keep that criminal image up, I'm sure."

Len smirks. "Absolutely. Need to keep a sharp eye since things can change in a flash."

The kid snorts. "Puns, really?"

"Puns are a part of life, like coffee."

"You did not just compare puns to coffee," the Flash says, staring at him with wide eyes, like he can't believe what Len just said.

Len can't help but chuckle. "Sometimes I'm not sure which is more important – the puns or the coffee."

Flash laughs. He has a nice laugh, Len decides; it's this light, happy sound he's not used to hearing. Lisa laughs, sure, but she's more… it's not that light, happy, or innocent. She's too tarnished for that, and he can admit that, because it's his fault.

The Flash, though…

He doesn't seem terribly tarnished.

"Definitely the coffee," Flash says simply. "You can't make silly puns without coffee in the morning."

"Hmm," Len says, thinking it over. "I suppose that's true."

"Are we really having this conversation right now?"

"Yes, we are. Problem, Flash?"

"Nope," Flash says, shaking his head with this stupid smile on his face. "Better this than, uh…" The smile falters somewhat. "You realize you were trying to kill me yesterday, right? And you kidnapped my friend?"

"I didn't try to kill you; we went over this," Len says with a scowl. "And you mean Caitlin Snow, correct?" At the kid's nod he continues. "I kept Mick from harming her."

"You strapped her to a bomb," Flash says incredulously.

"A slow one," Len says with a shrug. "I knew she'd be saved."

It was never his intention to kill Snow. Merely to get the Flash's attention, though he wasn't sure why at the time. It was just something he needed to do, in a way he'd never needed to do anything before.

Flash stares at him with his mouth open again. "Wh-… Well, yeah…"

It seems the Flash had a similar thought.

"Then why kidnap her at all?" Flash asks.

"To get your attention," Len says simply, before he gets to his feet and heads toward the coffee pot. The coffee in said pot is steaming and it smells delicious; he's definitely ready for a cup. Flash watches his every move, gaze following him the two steps across the tiny kitchen as he grabs the pot and pours two cups. He deposits one cup into the Flash's nearly-slack grasp, and in a second the cup is caught before even a drop can spill.

Len smirks, amused, as he takes his seat across from the Flash again.

"Why'd you wanna get my attention?" Flash asks, confused. "I would have figured my not being there would be good for you – crime wise, I mean."

Len shrugs. "I enjoy a good challenge; the normal cops do not pose a challenge, but you do. And you were ignoring me."

"Were you offended?" Flash asks, incredulous.

Len snorts, tearing open a packet of sugar to pour into his coffee, before reaching for a small thing of cream. Most of his condiments, at all the safe houses, consist of things easily obtained from fast food places, or restaurants where there's piles of things like this – the sugar and creamer – just sitting on the table, ready for the taking.

"It was rude," Len says. "Treating me like a basic criminal. I like to think I'm a little more challenging than that."

Flash laughs again. Len quirks a brow, stirring his coffee with a spoon. "Challenging, yeah – I guess so."

"You challenge me," Len tells him. "Personally, I like a good challenge. Don't you?"

He's pretty sure he knows the answer, but watching the Flash squirm is amusing in its own way.

"I guess," Flash finally says, sighing. He reaches for some condiments quickly, his hands a blur. A moment later he's carefully stirring his coffee with his own spoon, eying Len curiously. "What do we do after coffee?"

Len's not entirely sure. He hasn't thought that far ahead. That they're here now is crazy by itself.

He does know one thing, though… one little thought that keeps flickering through his mind every few minutes… more frequently now that they're in the same room together, and the kid looks tired and on edge…

"I have a proposition for you," Len says.

xXx

Barry paces the length of his bedroom at Joe's, muttering to himself under his breath.

"That guy's ridiculous," he mutters. "Crazy! There's no way in hell I'd accept that offer."

No way in hell he'd agreed to sleep with Leonard Snart of all people. No way in hell he'd agreed to sleep with Leonard Snart and reveal his identity as Barry Allen, to Leonard Snart of all people. Nope. No way in hell that would ever happen in a million years.

"Consider it stress relief," Snart said. "Also, a distraction. Bonus points for you. If I'm in bed I can't really be out causing mischief, can I?"

He has a point.

Wait, no he doesn't! This is crazy.

To think he said they could have sex with no strings attached…

Why would he even want that? It makes no sense! They're enemies. Snart tried to kill him. Except, he said he wasn't really trying to kill him, merely testing him. For the challenge. And Barry enjoys challenges, and Snart is a very interesting challenge…

No. Stop that.

Not happening.

Nope.

It's been a long time since Barry had sex… Years, even… Granted, nine of those months were spent in a coma, but it still counts.

Years…

There just hasn't been time to do anything about it recently. Plus, he's been so hung up on Iris, even going so far as to finally admit his feelings for her at Christmas… But he hasn't wanted anyone else, male or female, other than Iris. And she's dating Eddie, and ever since he became the Flash he hasn't been able to really date or anything…

He doesn't like having to lie about half his life. It's bad enough hiding it from Iris, but from a lover? He can't even imagine.

Plus, there's the whole vibrating thing…

It's something he noticed after waking from the coma, during some personal 'stress relief', alone in the shower. Whenever he gets excited like that, he'll start vibrating. At first it scared the crap out of him and he nearly drowned in the shower when he startled and whacked his head on the wall, slipping down into the interior of the tub where the water was pooling. Now it's just something to think about when considering a sexual partner. He vibrates, so he can only be with someone who already knows he's the Flash.

Sadly, that rules Iris out, though he despises keeping this a secret from her.

That leaves him with very few options. So few people know who he is, what he can do, what he's capable of. So few people.

Caitlin – mourning the death of her fiancé.

Cisco – becoming one of Barry's best friends, so that's out. Plus they're too much alike – he's not sure how that would even work, and he doesn't like Cisco like that.

Wells – like a mentor, also really smart, so nope.

Joe – yeah, no, that's like his father.

So few people, and he can't be with any of them.

Maybe that's why he's even still thinking about Snart's offer.

He could probably hide his face, keep the suit on, disguise his voice… Snart doesn't actually have to know who he is beneath the mask. He doesn't have to know Barry Allen.

What, no! Stop considering it, you idiot. It's not happening.

He sighs heavily and finally stops pacing, sitting on his bed instead. Except that's too still and too slow and he's got all this pent-up energy from his thoughts racing through his mind, and the fact the Reverse-Flash is still out there and Iris isn't talking to him, and Snart tried to kill him but then invited him to coffee and now has offered him sex and-

It's too much.

I just wanna run.

He needs to run, lose this energy somehow.

And so, that's what he does.

He runs.

xXx

Barry thinks on it for three long days.

He's not sure why he's even thinking about it; he knows it's a terrible idea, but there's so few options for him since he's the Flash. He has to keep that part of his life hidden from so many people, but Snart… Snart knows he's the Flash. It's the 'Barry Allen' part he has to keep secret, which should be easy enough. He can keep his mask on or something. Even if Snart catches a glimpse of his face it's not like he's going to immediately know who he is or anything.

And he can vibrate, because Snart knows he's the Flash so he doesn't have to hide, and God, he doesn't wanna hide…

He just wants to be himself.

But no matter what he has to hide some aspect of himself, and he absolutely hates it. He's so very torn all the time and it's the worst feeling in the world, he decides.

In the end, he doesn't have to decide.

Captain Cold is robbing a small antique shop – why, Barry has absolutely no idea as it's not his usual target, but he dons the suit and gives chase.

When he arrives, Cold is waiting for him, sitting in an old antique chair with all the casual ease he can have in that oversized parka and goggles, the cold gun resting on his lap, fingers lightly curled around it to lift it at a moment's notice. The fight could be over so easily; Barry could knock him out or cuff him before Cold has time to blink, but instead of doing that, he just kind of stands there awkwardly.

Cold's lips twist upward in a familiar smirk. "About time, Flash."

"Sorry to keep you waiting," Barry says, rolling his eyes. Snart has to be the weirdest criminal ever – actually wanting his enemy to show up.

Cold chuckles – that same smooth rumble as before. "Most people call the morning after coffee, Scarlet."

Barry is so glad his comm device is off, or Caitlin and Cisco would be having a field day. He turned it off before entering the building just in case Cold decided to bring up this very thing.

"Most people don't have coffee with their enemies," Barry replies.

Cold snorts. "That's what we call a high society tea party."

Must he have a reply for everything?

"What do you want, Cold? This isn't your usual target," Barry says, steering the conversation back on track. Or, rather, trying to.

"Well, you weren't getting back to me soon enough, and it was either this or showing up at STAR Labs. Take your pick, kid."

Barry frowns. "Why is this so important to you?"

"You look good in red, and I haven't been laid in a long time," Cold says easily, like it's really just that simple.

"Alright – then you could have anyone. Why me?"

Cold shrugs. "I offered you a deal, Scarlet. What's your answer?"

Barry's throat is dry. "You're my enemy. You tried to kill me and kidnapped my friend."

"Again – didn't try to kill you, merely challenged you, and I didn't hurt your friend."

All very good points, sure, but…

"And that's not a no, Scarlet."

Barry drags a hand over his face. "What were the, um… rules, again?"

There's a definite smirk in Cold's voice when he speaks. "It's just stress relief, and a distraction. No strings attached. You want out, you can leave. Also, I don't share."

Barry takes a slow breath. "Share?"

"If we do this, you're mine and no one else's, until you say you want out. I don't share. I'm taking it you're not into the whole 'multi-partners' thing, either."

Well… he's not wrong.

"And what about Captain Cold and the Flash?" Barry asks.

Which is probably odd, referring to himself in the third person, but still.

"If you're going to insist on wearing your outfit the whole time, then I suppose the Flash can be involved, but the Flash has no place in Captain Cold's world. We keep it separate, and anything that comes out during this, we don't use against each other. Sound fair?"

It does, actually. Or maybe that's the hormones talking – Barry's honestly not sure anymore.

"You already know who I am," Cold says with a shrug. "Leonard Snart. I have nothing to hide. Do you?"

He has a lot to hide, actually. An entire side of his life, in fact.

"Remember, Scarlet – whatever you reveal when we're together, it will never be used against you. I'm not that type of person."

"You're a criminal," Barry says.

"I like to steal things, yes – for the challenge. But just because I'm a criminal doesn't mean I don't have morals, kid."

Barry's head is spinning. It's too much too fast. He doesn't know what to say.

Maybe it's the loneliness of hiding the Flash from everyone…

Maybe it's the fact he hasn't had sex in years…

Maybe it's the fact Cold does look good in that oversized parka…

Maybe it's the fact he wants to believe there's good in Snart…

He's not exactly sure what possesses him to say, "Yes."

But as the word falls from his lips and Cold's mouth twists into a grin, he can't help but wonder if he's chosen correctly… or made a huge mistake.