"Oh, did you draw this?"
Barry stops from stocking up the canned beans and looks over to the counter where Mrs Ming is currently studying a sheet of paper. It takes him a second before he realizes that it is the sketch he made this morning after opening the store and waiting for the first customers to arrive.
His face flushes immediately and he gets up from his spot where he has been crouching in front of one of shelves. He grimaces slightly when a sharp pain flashes through his knees which have been acting up rather badly lately, likely due to the still damp and cool weather.
"S-sorry, I-I w-won't d-do th-this ag-gain d-during w-work."
The old woman lifts her eyes from the sketching and turns her attention back to him. Barry feels his face grow even warmer when she studies him with a small frown. The worry that he is going to get in trouble for dawdling around during work makes his stomach knot up and the notion that he could disappoint her doesn't sit well with him either.
Her features relax again, though, and a familiar warm smile spreads across her lips as she shakes her head and chuckles.
"Don't worry, Barry, I don't mind if you draw when there is nothing else to do. You have picked yourself quite a nice hobby."
Again, she turns back to the – in his opinion rather crude – drawing and he suddenly feels the intent urge to snatch it out of her hands and hide it from her or anybody else's gaze. He knows that it is probably not to make out whom he has sketched but it still makes him nervous.
"Have you been drawing for a long time?"
"S-somewhat," he explains:" I u-used t-to w-when I-I w-was y-younger and s-started a-again a b-bit a-ago."
Mrs Ming hums in understanding and gives him an appreciative look.
"You are quite talented," she tells him:" A bit rough around the edges but still very good."
Not sure how to take the compliment, he stays quiet. Barry really wishes she would put the piece of paper finally away.
It seems that the older woman picks up on his discomfort and does just that.
"I am sorry, I haven't meant to snoop."
"N-no, i-it is f-f-fine, I-I… I j-just… u-usualy n-nob-body s-sees m-my d-drawings. I-I d-don't th-think th-they a-are any g-good."
"Well, this one definitely is," disagrees Mrs Ming and asks him what medium he usually works with. Barry frowns and shrugs.
"N-nothing s-special r-really, j-just a p-pen and s-some o-old p-papers."
He never bothered to buy any drawing utensils, seeing that he doesn't exactly has the money to spare nor does he think that this is an investment he can really justify.
Mrs Ming hums again softly and turns her gaze back to the sketch with a rather thoughtful look.
"Is this a friend of yours?"
Barry has hoped that she wouldn't ask about the person he has absentmindedly sketched a couple of hours ago. His cheeks grow hot and he looks away.
"A-an a-a-aqu-quaintance."
Again, she studies him for another long moment. Then, as if she had come to a conclusion, she nods and tells Barry that she would prepare them some tea.
He is glad when she is gone and he is finally able to grab the paper and tuck it away in the back pocket of his pants.
Sketching is something he has picked up again because it helps him to relax but he regrets it at times like this when his mind starts to drift off and his hand seems to move more or less on its own accord. This usually causes him to go from drawing little doodles or places to people, especially those he hasn't seen in years. It is like a bucket of cold water is emptied over his head when his mind comes back to what he is currently drawing and he realizes that he is looking at a familiar face from his past.
Barry swallows and turns to go back to the shelf he has been restocking.
The folded paper feels heavy in his pocked and he tries not to think of the fact that he has drawn a new face this morning, one which unsettles and confuses him a little. He thinks about getting rid of it but knows that he most likely wouldn't do so. It has turned out surprisingly well and while it is embarrassing he will probably hold on to it.
The doorbell chimes and announces the arrival of a customer so that Barry is able to get his mind off the sketch he has done. The notion of Len still follows him around for the rest of the afternoon.
The sound of sharp knocking startles Barry from a light slumber and causes him to tense up with a twinge of panic, till he realizes where he is.
Groggily, he gets up and looks to the clock that hangs over the doorway of the small corridor to his bedroom. He frowns when he sees that it is already half past ten. It seems that his catnap has already lasted for nearly two hours.
Concerned, he turns towards the door and hisses slightly when a sharp pain flashes through his neck and back. Barry is reminded why he usually prefers not to fall asleep on that old piece of junk that is his couch.
Another knocking follows, a bit sharper than the one before and he looks towards the door again as an apprehensive feeling starts to spread through his guts. He never has visitors, especially not this late at night.
It isn't uncommon for people being robbed in their own homes here and he wonders whether he simply could try to ignore it. This probably wouldn't be a wise idea, though, as a burglar would undoubtedly see that as an invitation to try his luck. Then, he remembers that he has the lights still on and that whoever is there has undoubtedly picked up on this as well.
Barry grits his teeth as he gets up and tries to loosen up his tense muscles in his back a bit by rolling his shoulders before making his way over to the door, just as another knock follows. By how harshly it sounds, it is obvious that his late night visitor is getting impatient with him. He starts to get a bit irritated as well and wonders whether a burglar could really be stupid enough to make this much noise. Then again, the people living here prefer to ignore anything that doesn't happen within their own four walls and the criminals likely know this much.
His inside grow hot and cold a second later as he looks through the door viewer to see with whom he would have to deal with.
"Just open the damn door already, I can see your shadow through the bottom crack."
Len's gruff tone is low and a bit muffled through the wood between them.
Barry unlocks the door despite a small voice in his head reminding him that this is not a good idea for so many reasons and that he has to work tomorrow.
"Are you always that fucking slow?" asks the other man in lieu of an actual greeting.
"I-it i-is a-a-alr-ready a-after t-ten," replies Barry with a frown and crosses his arms in front of his chest:" I-I h-have w-work t-tom-m-morrow."
"So, you want me to leave again?"
They glare at each other for a couple of seconds before the noise of someone coming up the stairs reaches them and Barry quickly steps aside to let the other man in.
"Y-you sh-shouldn't r-run a-around l-like th-that," he points out after he has closed the door again:" A-anyb-body c-could s-see you."
He gets an unimpressed look in return.
"I am not wearing my getup, I will be fine."
"P-people c-could still r-recognize y-you."
"This are the Twins, two huge cities, people here have mastered the art of ignoring others."
"Th-that i-is v-v-very c-carel-less."
"Maybe," Len concedes but doesn't seem particularly concerned despite it, which in turn rubs Barry quite the wrong way because he knows the other man's carelessness shouldn't really bother him that much.
"Stop worrying, I know how to stay under the radar."
Len ignores Barry's exasperated huff and instead gives him a crooked smile.
"You're planning on staying there all night?" he asks and nods to where Barry is still standing next to the door.
Barry frown deepens before he suddenly picks up on the delicious smell of food and his gaze inevitably lowers itself to the other man's right hand, where he spots a white plastic bag.
From one second to the next, he realizes how hungry he is and, before he can press the ball of his hand into his stomach, a loud rumble reaches both of their ears. His face turns hot and he shoots the other man a half-hearted glare as if to dare him to make a stupid comment.
Len doesn't. Instead he lifts the bag and nods towards the table that stands between the kitchenette and the couch.
"I grabbed some food," he remarks unnecessarily:" Let's eat before it turns cold."
The urge to protest passes Barry but he ignores it. He hasn't eat anything but a ham-sandwich today as he wouldn't get his next pay till two days from now and his food has run low as it does usually during the end of the month.
They move to the table and Len starts to put out the couple of plastic boxes that hold the food. It smells spicy and seems to be still hot, which means that he has likely picked it up somewhere nearby.
"I've got you the rice with chicken and vegetables," informs him the other man and pushes the white box towards him:" You want the chopsticks or the plastic spoon?"
"Ch-ch-ops-sticks a-are f-f-fine."
His stomach grumbles again and he tries not to show how painfully hard it is to ignore the hunger and not to simply wolf it down. Instead, he starts to eat slowly, careful not to waste any of the rice.
They don't talk while they eat, which is fine with Barry as he hardly wants to concentrate on anything else but his delicious meal. The nausea that has been following him around for the most part of the day ceases and he feels better than he has in days as he picks the last couple of rice corns up with his chopsticks. It is then that he notices that the other man has hardly touched anything of his own dish so far and is instead watching him.
Barry tenses up and halts. He frowns as he meets Len's eyes.
"I-is th-there a-a r-reason y-you're s-staring?"
He is surprised by how sharp it has come out and feels immediately bad for it. His current companion has brought him food after all and hasn't done anything that would really earn his ire.
"S-sorry," he apologizes quietly and turns his gaze back to the now empty plastic box:" A-and th-thank you f-for th-the f-food. I ap-preciate i-it… e-even th-though i-it w-wasn't n-neces-sarry."
Barry expects the other man to point out what an obvious lie this is or maybe make a snide remark but Len lets the opportunity pass by once again. He doesn't understand why the other man is behaving so decent towards him but is grateful for it nonetheless.
"I-I w-will p-pay y-you b-back," he assures him and this does earn him a derisive snort. His cheeks turn uncomfortably hot in response, partly due to embarrassment and partly due to anger.
"I-I w-will," he grits through his teeth and could now kick himself for having accepted the food:" Y-you w-will g-get th-the d-d-damn m-money f-for th-the f-food."
His body has grown stiff with tension and he can't bring himself to look at him.
"If it makes you feel better, then fine, pay me back," tells him Len and while he sounds slightly irked, he still seems much calmer than Barry has expected.
"I-I d-don't n-need ch-charity."
Barry wants to hide away in his bedroom and the other man gone. He swallows around a painful lump that has started to form in his throat and shoots a glare at Len.
"Stop making such a damn fuss over this."
"I-I d-don't-"
"Yes, you are," grunts the other man with a scowl:" This is no pity-party for you, so stop acting so damn defensive. I was in the area and haven't eaten dinner yet, that is all. The fucking planet is not solely rotating around you, Allen."
A tense silence follows and both hold each other's gaze for a long minute before Barry folds and averts his eyes. The feeling of him being an ungrateful idiot returns full force.
"I-I am s-sorry, I… I r-really ap-preciate th-the f-food," he speaks very softly and hates the intense urge to cross his arms in front of his chest in this damn humiliating way that is so much like hugging himself.
Still, he insists on paying the other man back as soon as he has the money, which costs Len a clearly exasperated sigh but he doesn't protest.
"I sh-shouldn't have reacted l-like th-that," Barry goes on slowly, trying to keep his stammer better under control again. He glances at Len uncertainly and adds:" I h-haven't b-been res-sting s-so w-well l-lately."
"No shit," remarks Len with a crooked but not mean smirk:" You look horrible."
Len ignores the dark look that is directed his way and turns to his food to start eating his noodles instead. They fall silent after that, which isn't tense nor uncomfortable surprisingly enough. Barry starts to grow drowsy as he waits for him to finish.
"Is there a reason you are staring at me?"
Len's voice startles him and he realizes that he done just that. He blushes once more and turns away while muttering an apology. Len's answering smirk is palpable enough that Barry doesn't need to see it to know that it is there.
"You look like you are going to drop off any moment now."
"I-I a-am f-fine."
"… right."
Barry frowns and decides to get up seeing that he feels tired enough that he really fears he is going to fall asleep should he not start to move. It would probably be a better idea to ask Len to leave, it is already past eleven and he has to get up again in less than five hours.
"Y-you w-want s-s-some t-tea?" he asks instead.
Len seems surprised about the offer before his look turns sceptical.
"Is beer also an option?"
Seeing that he usually never drinks alcohol when he is alone, Barry shakes his head with an unhappy expression.
"Coffee?" tries Len again and Barry feels once more how an embarrassed flush spreads over his cheeks. Other than three slices of toast, two cans of tuna and a handful of teabags he doesn't have anything edible at home right now.
"N-no," he mutters and doesn't even want to consider how pathetic he has to appear.
"Tea is fine."
His surprised look is meet with a calm expression and Barry isn't sure why but the pressure behind his chest starts to ease again as does the tension in his body.
He gives the other man a tentative smile.
"G-good."
Len starts to pass by about once or twice a week. He usually brings food with him and while Barry knows that he is mostly just humouring him by agreeing to let him pay him back, he is still very glad for the help.
More often than not, his finances are in a very dire state and he has troubles to last with the money that is left after he has paid for his rent without ending up hungry the last couple of days of the month.
They usually don't talk much but play poker or simply share a few beers in a surprisingly comfortable silence. It is nice, having someone else around in his flat and he starts to look forward to the other man's visit, despite knowing how dangerous and reckless of an affair this really is.
"I c-can't ac-cept this."
"Of course you can," disagrees Mrs Ming and doesn't make any move to take the gifts he tries to hand back to her:" Your birthday is coming up next month, take it as my present for you."
She asked Barry to stay after work shortly before he was done with closing and he agreed, thinking that she had invited him for some tea again. He hasn't expected the set of acrylic paints and the sketchbook she has handed him instead.
"B-but-"
"You would do me a great favour."
Mrs Ming steps closer to him and meets his distraught look with a kind smile as she cups his elbow.
"Please, Barry, accept this little gift."
It takes Barry a moment before he has the tumult of emotions enough under control that he wouldn't embarrass himself.
"Th-thank y-you."
His voice is faint and he clears his throat as he averts his gaze. The gratefulness he is currently experiencing is nearly smothering.
"Th-thank you, th-this... th-thank y-you."
"You are welcome, my boy," smiles the old woman and Barry tries to ignore the sadness in her eyes.
He would never forget her this kindness.
"You're getting better."
Len snorts when Barry's only response is to glower at him.
"You are."
"I h-haven't w-won once ag-gainst you s-so f-far," he grumbles and looks sullenly at the cards the other man is shuffling again. By now he has given up any hope that he would ever be able to win a round when it comes to this game.
"Doesn't mean shit," argues Len with a smirk:" I have been playing this since I was old enough to hold a hand and this is usually the game of choice with the others."
Barry frowns but refrains from pointing out that he simply is no good at gambling, in general.
"It would help if you weren't wearing your emotions on your sleeve all the time."
"I am t-trying n-not to."
There had been another reason why he wore a mask that hide most of his face other than for keeping his identity a secret back when he was the Flash. He takes a sip from his tea and frowns at the deck Len has now put down between them.
"You wanna take a break and lick your wounds?"
The glare Barry gives him is icy and the other man chuckles in obvious amusement as he gets up.
"I take a piss, don't mark the cards while I am gone."
"F-funny."
Instead of cheating, he gets himself another cup of tea. Against Len's usual habit, he has turned up on a Saturday tonight. This is a nice change and it means that he doesn't have to worry about losing any sleep because he doesn't have to work tomorrow. It also makes it easier for him to relax and enjoy the company.
"You w-want a c-cup t-too?" he asks when the other man re-enters the living room. Len grunts a nonverbal decline and instead sits back down on the couch. It doesn't come as a surprise as he usually sticks to his beer or coffee so that Barry only fills up his own cup again.
They play another game and he doesn't do much better than with the last one or the one before that. Still, it is nice to have the other man around who is also surprisingly relaxed tonight and unusually inclined to chat a bit.
"I d-don't g-get it, I-I a-am k-keeping m-my f-face t-tot-tally v-vacant and I a-am s-staying r-relaxed. H-how are you a-able t-to t-tell wh-what h-hand I h-have g-gotten?"
Barry groans softly and lets his head drop onto the backrest of his couch. He pulls his legs up to his chest and lays his arm around them loosely, getting into a position he is more comfortable with.
"Keep on kidding yourself."
"Wh-what?"
He turns to the other man in confusion.
"I d-did s-stay exp-pressionl-less."
Len lifts his eyebrows in an incredulous way that causes his mood to deteriorate immediately.
"No, you didn't. You tried but failed rather impressively."
"I d-didn't!"
"You are like an open book," he smirks while collecting the cards to put them away:" Some can't help it."
Not sure whether he should bother to be insulted by this comment or not, Barry settles with wrinkling his nose and giving Len a half-hearted glare. It isn't as if he hasn't known from the beginning that he wouldn't be any good because of this exact reason.
Feeling a bit tired, Barry changes his position so that his side is resting against the backrest with his cheek resting on top of it. He watches the other man quietly as he puts the cards back into the box.
Len gets himself another beer and offers Barry to grab him one as well which he accepts.
"You have anything planned next Saturday?"
It is an odd question seeing that he knows quite well that Barry hardly ever leaves his flat for anything else than work. He shakes his head quietly and pulls his legs a bit closer.
"We are having a poker night," explains Len:" If you want, you can drop by."
"Y-you and th-the oth-ther R-Rogues?"
Barry hasn't been sure what to expect but he definitely wasn't this.
"Yeah," agrees Len and something changes in the way he watches him. He suddenly seems a bit hostile which causes Barry to tense up involuntarily.
"Is there a problem with that?"
"I-I… you r-really th-think th-this i-is a g-good idea?"
"Why not?"
The aggression has mostly left his voice again and the Len eyes him with a mixture of annoyance and exasperation instead.
"Th-they... w-we aren't exact-tly…"
Nervously, he bites his bottom lips and shrugs, not really willing to go into this.
"You liked them well enough before you were released," reminds him Len and takes another swig of his beer.
"I-it i-is n-not th-that."
His fingers have started to dig painfully in his shins and Barry forces himself to relax a bit again.
"Don't worry your damn head off all the time about something that was."
Their eyes meet and the other man goes on.
"They won't cause you any trouble but you don't have to come. It is just an offer."
"No, I w-would l-like t-to c-come."
Despite not really being sure how to feel about the idea of mingling with the group of criminals again, he knows that they usually don't invite other people along and the notion that Len actually wants him to come eases his concern a bit. It is also nice to look forward to spend an evening outside of his own flat.
"Good, Sam will pick you up around six."
"W-we aren't m-meeting at y-your p-lace?"
Len snorts and tells him that they did that once and that this is not happening again. He doesn't go into any details and Barry somehow has the inkling that he probably doesn't want to know anyway.
"We meet at our current bolthole."
"Y-your h-hideout?"
He frowns and eyes the other man doubtfully.
"I d-don't kn-know i-if th-that is s-such a g-good i-idea."
"Why? I doubt you gonna go and tattle to some capes about it," scoffs Len. His face becomes sombre again when he notices Barry's hurt expression.
"Look-"
"I-I w-will c-come," he says and tries to will the itching of his eyes away while he keeps his gaze on the small couch table next to him.
"C-could y-you l-leave n-now, p-please, I-I am r-rather t-t-tired."
The other man does so after a long moment, without another word.
Barry meets a young woman who lives also in his apartment complex on the first floor. Her bag of groceries has broken and spilled its content all over the stairs. He gets her another one from his flat.
They talk a bit as he helps her carrying everything up to her flat and he learns that her name is Mary.
She doesn't seem at all faced by his stammer and despite his initial reluctance, he accepts when she invites him over for some coffee after they arrive at her doorstep.
They talk for a while and Barry learns that she has already been living here for more than two years. It doesn't really surprise him that they haven't crossed each other so far, seeing that most tenants prefer to stay to themselves and he is hardly an exception.
Mary invites him over for dinner the following week and he accepts.
