This Delicate Thing We've Made

genre: Romance

rated: M

Chapter 2: Taken by the Sea

"And I want you and that's so terrifying
And I want you to help put out the fires
Cause I am an island and you are the ocean
And all of my sadness taken by the sea"

For Barry, it started with staring at his phone, his eyes fixated on the single text message with a simple snowflake emoji from "Len", his fingers hovering over the reply button.

Len. When did Leonard Snart, legendary thief, Captain Cold, become 'Len' to him? The man had tried to kill him on more than one occasion, kidnapped his friends to use against him, betrayed his trust, and lied to him when he went out on a limb and trusted him. But that same night he also killed a man who was going to kill Barry, had later warned him about a threat against his life instead of helping those who broke him out of jail, let Barry help him and his sister against their even worse criminal father, and then went off on a mission to save the future, sacrificing himself to save their friends. He even risked his freedom by helping Barry break into A.R.G.U.S to save Iris with absolutely nothing in it for him. Barry kept wondering did the good outweigh the bad, the heroic deeds justify the sinful ones, and at what point does one stop paying for his past and the slate becomes clean. But if he was being honest with himself, it didn't even really matter to him. In his mind, Len was absolved.

In the beginning, before Snart had learned of Barry's identity, he hadn't given the criminal much thought, thinking of him as nothing more than another bad guy. But when Len learned who was behind the mask, when they brokered their deal of not revealing his identity, to leave his friends alone in exchange for not carting him off to jail, when Len so readily agreed that he could pull off his heists without letting innocent people get hurt, their dynamic shifted. From enemies to rivals, from being on opposing sides to competing at their highest level. Barry didn't banter with the other villains he'd come up against, never considered teaming up with them or going to them for help either. And he definitely didn't laugh at their puns when their weapon was pointed at him. So at some point, Captain Cold and the Flash became nothing more than a game that Leonard Snart and Barry Allen played.

And then Leonard died. And Barry mourned.

But now he was back, alive and whole after three years, and Barry found himself thinking about him more and more. Len always got up right into his personal space, standing just a little closer than socially appropriate, always eyeing him up like he was either undressing him or analyzing him, that slow and deliberate drawl sometimes making Barry's spine tingle with anticipation. He had definitely found the man attractive but when he'd blast him with the cold gun it was as effective as a cold shower. And then punches were pulled, shots were wide, and the game changed. Barry was no longer worried about being betrayed by Leonard, not after hearing about his escapades from Ray during his time with the Legends, not after their team-up taking on A.R.G.U.S.

The A.R.G.U.S mission had changed everything. The whole time Len kept challenging what Barry was doing, calling him out on the out of character behavior because he believed in Barry's goodness, had even told him it was his strength. It was strange to be on the other side of that conversation, to have Len appealing to his good nature when he considered going through King Shark to get to the tech. Leaving him behind in Siberia, telling him to take care of himself yet knowing what future lay ahead, the guilt would have consumed if he hadn't been so focused on trying to save Iris' life. If things had been different, if Snart hadn't died when he did, it wasn't hard for Barry to see a future where they became friends.
Leonard Snart had embraced himself as the man Barry always believed he was and Barry felt pride. But now that Barry wasn't emblazoned in love for someone else, he felt like a part of his brain had finally caught up to some of those feelings he'd either ignored or barely noticed before. They weren't new, they were just awoken. And since their conversation in the booth, Len's proposition to take him out for dinner, he couldn't keep his mind from wandering throughout the day to the man's piercing steel-blue eyes, long fingers, broad shoulders, and more importantly, that sharp wit. It wasn't the first time an interaction at that dive bar had left Barry reeling as if the world had turned upside down. He first realized he was physically attracted to him when Len stepped up into his personal space in front of the pool table at Saints and Sinners, inches from him, eyes piercingly appraising him as they traveled up and down the length of his body. He could feel the heat of the stare and the lightning spark in his own body in response, the shock of desire. And then Len had slid a napkin with the request for permanent immunity from prosecution and when Barry denied that and offered him something else, he'd felt a twinge of hatred at himself when the thought crossed his mind of personal interaction in exchange for Snart's help. Barry was human, after all, a red-blooded male who could be persuaded by lust just as much as any other person.

That felt like a lifetime ago. So much had changed, so much had happened, to them and within them. What didn't change though was that instant spark between them, call it lust, call it chemistry, whatever. The point was it was there. But what was Barry to do with that realization, that attraction re-awoken by having the man standing in front of him not more than three days ago? What would his friends say, his family? He could just hear Oliver's voice in his ear "you don't date your villains, Barry."

There was also the fact that he'd only been a few months through the end of his marriage. What if this was just a rebound, his mind playing tricks on his heart, so desperate for something different that he was ready to jump into dating Leonard Snart.

And with that notion, not to mention even entertaining the word 'date', Barry clicked out of the message screen and pocketed his phone. He couldn't deal with this right now, was severely overthinking all of it. Len just wanted to go for dinner, catch up; Barry needed to slow down.

When his immediate thought was that Len would have enjoyed that pun, Barry knew he was in serious trouble.

For Len, it started before running into Barry at Jitters. He'd been back in Central City for a little while now and had resisted the urge to stop by S.T.A.R. Labs multiple times to surprise the speedster. He felt a pull to see the man as if now that he was back in the city it was time to start playing their game again.

But Len found himself lacking the interest in robbing a bank or breaking into a museum. He'd traveled through time, fought actual bad guys, became part of a real team, and saved time itself. His old ways just didn't seem to fit the man he was anymore. And if he was being honest with himself, it hadn't for a while, even before he and Mick followed Rip. He'd been at the top of his game for a long time. It got boring and he got complacent.

Barry, the Flash, had been the catalyst that changed things then. Maybe he would be the catalyst again. Len saw a lot of himself in Barry, the dark side hovering below the surface, the eagerness to be the best, the addiction to the thrill of an adventure. Just because they defined it in different ways didn't mean they weren't similar. But he also found the kid annoying and frustrating and a thorn in his side.

Discovering it was a thorn he wanted to keep is what threw him. Barry challenged him to be better, and Len found that although at first, he thought it was to be a better rival, he learned it ended up inspiring him to be a better person. He respected Barry, humbled by his belief in the goodness inside of him, scared by the trust Barry continuously placed in Len despite past discretions that should sway him to believe otherwise, and the lengths he'd gone to in order to help Len, not only from his father but himself as well. After working with the Legends, with a team he came to care about when before the only two people he cared about in the world were Lisa and Mick, he found himself with a mission more important to him than just stealing, than just making a name for himself. He found a purpose.

And for that, he blamed Barry.

In the beginning, Mick had accused him of being obsessed with the speedster. Although he wasn't fond of the connotation that came with that word, the man hadn't been far off. It was the transition of feelings that was what he had kept from his friend. Curiosity turned to fascination, fascination to intrigue, intrigue to attraction, attraction to lust. He'd felt the first surge of attraction when the man had the nerve to step up to him in the forest, fearless, confident, that lithe body in head to toe red leather. Len's request for a ride back to town may have had held an unspoken invitation and the coy smile he got in return did nothing to deter the attraction. But the dismissing it as nothing more than harmless flirtation came to a screeching halt when he thought Lewis had killed Barry, one shot to the chest of an unmasked hero who was just trying to help Len save his sister. Seeing him alive in the costume brought an instant surge of relief, and not just because help for his sister was still a possibility. He cared about the kid, genuinely, and it surprised the hell out of him. And it had grown exponentially from that moment.

He knew he wanted more than just a one night stand with the man. He liked to think that before he died, that another night or two of flirting over a break-in because those were definitely flirtatious half-smiles beneath the red mask and appraising eyes over the barrel of the cold gun, would lead to that. But he wanted more than that, wanted more of Barry. So after weeks of avoiding him, of watching him from afar, Len decided to do something about it and took a chance at Jitters. He had no idea how Barry would react to seeing him alive but the reception was not anything he could have expected. To know that Barry was happy that he was alive, sincerely happy to have him back, it gave Len hope. He'd always thought hope was a dirty thing, something you couldn't trust or hold on to, something that betrayed you. To have hope was dangerous.

But Len liked danger. And he liked a challenge. His whole life he'd looked for things to satisfy, to fill a void; money, art, beautiful and rare priceless things. And for every thief, there was an idea that one day you'd find that beautiful rare and priceless score, the perfect and final score that you'd worked for you're entire career, the something that made the rest seem worthless. The score to end all scores.

Seeing the young man again at Jitters, Barry tracking him down to the bar, just confirmed to Len that there was more than just sexual tension between them. For the first time in a long time, Len knew exactly what he wanted. Stealing the heart of Barry Allen just might be the thing worth the danger, worth the risk, the only thing an old thief like him would be willing to give up everything for.

Barry Allen was the perfect score.