This Delicate Thing We've Made
genre: Romance
rated: M
authors note: amongst the fluff and heart to hearts lives some smut and light bondage
Chapter 6: So Beautiful
"I have lost my illusions, I have drowned in your words
I have left my confusion to a cynical world
I am throwing myself at things I don't understand
Discover enlightenment holding your hand
You are so beautiful
Darling, you know that you make me feel so beautiful
Nothing else in the world I wanna be"
Barry moved quietly down the hall, bare feet making soft noises as they padded against the hardwood floor, steps deliberate as he made his way through the apartment. It was three a.m. and Barry awoke desperate for a late night/early morning snack. He had burned a lot of energy just a few hours before, waking up after only two hours of rest, praying the man laying next to him hadn't heard his stomach growl.
Luckily Len didn't even stir as Barry slowly and carefully removed himself from where he had been sleeping against Len's side, easing the arm that had been wrapped around him and holding him close to drape across Len's own torso. Grabbing a pair of plaid boxers from the floor, he pulled them on before carefully exiting the bedroom.
He moved around the spacious kitchen with an ease of familiarity; knowing which drawer the cutlery was in without giving it a second thought, gathering the bread from the third cupboard from the left with muscle memory rather than actual memory. He hardly spent more than a glance in the fridge as he gathered everything he needed to make the giant sandwich he craved because now Len had started keeping a fully stocked fridge for the speedster's metabolic needs.
It had been two months now since the night they stumbled into Len's apartment after their first date. Barry had barely gotten a look at how nice of a living space it was that night, what with being distracted by being slammed against a wall with arousing force, lips practically attached to Len's. It was a spacious one-bedroom apartment with living, dining, and kitchen areas in Petersburg, a trendy downtown residential area, not a part of the city that Barry would have expected Len to live.
"What do you think, Scarlet, I spend all my time in run-down safe houses?" Len had scoffed as Barry had explored the apartment when Len had invited him over a few days after they had had their first date.
Everything was chrome and modern, chic and elegant, sexy, and simple, just like the owner. It was decorated minimally with fine art, probably stolen originals but Barry knew better than to ask. The master bedroom featured a walk-in wardrobe and ensuite bathroom with a frameless shower big enough for two as Barry learned the morning after their first encounter. The large living area divided into a seating area with a comfy plush gray sectional which they had debauched that first time, a dining nook which Len utilized as an office space instead with a sleek glass desk that Barry had pinned him against as he went down on Len on their third date, and a kitchenette with gorgeous dark modern cabinets and marble counters that Len had sat him up on as they made out like teenagers on the date they lost count of weeks later, burning the dinner they had been trying to cook as they got lost in each other.
But as Barry prepared his sandwich now, the bread crisping up in the toaster, he found himself eager to go back to bed. Although they had been spending so much time together, Barry coming over after work, between hero duties, and staying late into the night, this was his first time actually staying more than two nights in a row. Of the two months they'd been seeing each other, Barry could count on one hand the days they went without spending any time together, either hanging out or meeting up for a quickie or a meal between leaving work and going to S.T.A.R. Labs.
It wasn't all sex though, all though it did tend to lead to that more often than not. The first night Barry had been in the apartment, and the morning after, they didn't do much other than physically exploring every inch of each other. The second time he came over, however, Len had invited him just to hang out. Barry hadn't been sure what to expect what a casual night in could be like with the other man but he relished in how simple and comfortable it actually was. Len had shown him around and they spent the night just talking and relaxing. They'd popped popcorn and stretched out across the couch, Barry propped up on the chaise while Len lay across the sectional, head in Barry's lap as Barry trolled through Len's saved list on Netflix. It was documentaries mostly but then he found every iteration of the Star Trek franchise. Clicking through them and seeing the checkmark indicating he'd watched them all, Barry couldn't help but smile.
"Oh my god you're a closet geek," Barry had laughed. He knew the man was smart, clever, stupid good at math with a quick brain figuring out scenarios in seconds, but a geek as well, that came as a surprise. Len hadn't even flinched, uncaring of the pseudo insult before grabbing the remote from Barry's hand, ignoring him completely and selecting the original 'Ocean's 11' with the Rat Pack.
"Nothing compares to the original," Len had said, not hiding his enjoyment at the eye roll Barry had responded with. Barry knew Len was teasing him, having told him less than an hour ago the story of his Nazis-interrupted wedding that led them to Earth-X where they met Len's doppelgänger. Len was unimpressed with how kind and how helpful Barry had told him Leo had been, rolling his eyes as he told him he even hugged him goodbye. Len had replied with pushing Barry against the fridge and kissing him hard, a kiss that made it feel like Barry's face disappeared.
"I bet your Leo didn't do that," Len nipped at his lips, grabbing the popcorn when he pulled away and headed towards the living room.
"Well, Ray may have had something to say about it if he did," Barry mumbled when remembered how to use his mouth again, following after Len.
They watched the movie, Barry never having seen the original, revealing he'd only seen musicals with Frank Sinatra, told him of the nights he'd spent watching old movie musicals with his mom when he was young. Len sat up then and asked Barry about his mother.
"I mean I know what happened," Len had said, moving to sit with one leg folded under him as he turned to face Barry, leaning an elbow up on the back of the couch and propping his head up with his fist. "But I want to hear about her from you if you don't mind."
Barry told him of what happened that night, of what he heard and saw. But then Len asked him to talk about his mother without talking about her death and it had taken Barry off guard, not many people asking him about what he remembered about her other than the tragic loss. He talked about life with his parents, about how beautiful his mother was inside and out, and things that reminded him of her as he tried to keep his memories of her alive.
"My mom studied art history. She was an amazing painter. What I'd give to have just one of her paintings," Barry shared, wiping a tear from right below his eye before it could travel down his face. "I mean I have some sketches she did for me that were tucked away in some of my books but now, I wish I could have just one of her paintings."
"What happened to them?" Len asked, lifting a hand to Barry's face, letting it rest upon his cheek, his thumb gliding gently at the corner of his lips, catching another stray tear with the pad of his thumb. Barry smiled at him sadly.
"When Joe gathered stuff from the house for me after he took me in, I was just a kid and didn't think about it. And he had no idea about the paintings otherwise I know he would have taken one for me. Some stuff went into storage like stuff from my dad's office. Joe grabbed most of my belongings, some photo albums, clothes, books, my telescope, my mom's treasure box that had some jewelry, the key to my mom and dad's first place together, stuff like that. But everything else was sold at the estate sale when they sold our house," Barry sniffed, reaching into his pocket for his wallet. "My entire home sold off in pieces. I guess her paintings were part of it. I tried to track them down a few times but it was a long time ago and they don't exactly keep great records of junk left behind by a man who murdered his wife."
"You look like her," Len said as he looked at the photo in Barry's wallet, an age-worn family photo of Henry and Nora with a young Barry who couldn't be older than five on the front porch of a lovely home. "Beautiful."
Barry's eyes had shone immediately with unshed tears before looking away from Len, staring at the photo before sliding it back into his wallet.
"I'm sorry, was that not okay?" Len asked, resting his hand on Barry's knee. "I know some men don't like to be called that."
"No, it's not that," Barry quickly replied, wiping at the tears before turning towards Len.
"Wait, were you serious about worrying about being too scrawny? Do you not know how gorgeous you are?" Len moved the hand from the knee to grip the one in Barry's lap. Suddenly the notion of the nearly flawless human, someone so quick to help and so eager to serve, being put down and told he wasn't enough like Len had his whole life, he could feel the anger swell within him.
"No, I mean," Barry swallowed, gripping the hand in his as he inched closer to him on the couch. "I've been called handsome, cute, stuff like that. But my mom, she always called me her beautiful boy and no one's said that to me since."
"I didn't mean to upset you," Len said sincerely, his thumb gliding across the top of the hand in his. Barry smiled up at him through teary eyes, raising his other hand to lay against the side of Len's neck, his own thumb tracing the strong jawline.
"You didn't. It was nice," Barry reassured, leaning in to kiss the man who was constantly proving to him now over and over what he'd always known to be true; that inside Len, behind the cold and anger, was goodness and kindness.
Barry wasn't sure why he had been so quick to open up to Leonard Snart but he did take comfort in the fact that it was reciprocated. And to Barry's surprise, the infamously cold villain was actually quite warm when it came to Barry. He didn't shy away from touch like Barry thought he might be given his history, he wasn't scarce with his affection like he had been with his true motives in the past.
On a night where the city was quiet, two weeks after their first date, Barry and Len had drunk wine on the balcony of the apartment overlooking the skyline. Len had told Barry about his own childhood, his mom walking out on him and his dad when Len discussed with him how he'd closed himself off, growing up in an abusive home, not wanting his father to see anything about who he was, to never stay in anything too long.
"It takes a lot for me to open up. I'd say other than Mick and Lisa, the only other person I let see any part of me that wasn't carefully crafted was Sara and that's only because we were freezing to death," Len had shared as they sat out on the balcony off the main living space, watching the sunset as they sipped on wine. It was very romantic and domestic in its simplicity, just two men who lived extraordinary lives enjoying a quiet moment of normalcy. "When I try, it usually comes out sarcastic or not enough to really mean anything. Part of is it has been on purpose and some old habits. But with you, I'd like to try. Even if I don't say enough, I want whatever I do say to be the truth."
"That means a lot to me, I hope you know that," Barry's eyes were soft, nursing the wine glass between his hands as he watched Len intently while he spoke. Barry would have been lying if he said honesty was a concern initially but he'd been so open with his intentions in that booth when Len asked him out, reinforced on their date when Len didn't hesitate to discuss anything Barry brought up. Barry was definitely the chatty of the two, not as much as open book but a cup of tea spilling over. But Len let him, listened, and contributed in a way that showed Barry just how interested he was, not just in what he said, but the way Len looked at him. "I'm honored to be in that elite group. And I'm glad you had Sara with you, she's pretty badass.'
"She is that," Len chuckled fondly, talking a finishing swig of the Bordeaux in his glass. "Ya know, first chance I got when we went off on the mission with Rip I went and stole a priceless emerald."
"Why doesn't that surprise me," Barry had smirked.
"I did it so that my father wouldn't get arrested," Len replied, pouring himself another cup and topping off Barry's. "It was the reason he went to jail, the reason he was worse than he was before. It didn't take. Got caught trying to fence it in the new timeline, still went to prison for five years, still made our lives hell."
"I know what it's like to go back, to try to make your life better," Barry nodded, reaching a hand out to rest upon Len's shoulder. "When I went back and saved my mom. But sometimes when we try to make things better, life still happens. All we can do is try to move forward."
Len had said nothing in response, just smiling softly at Barry and leaning in for a quick and light kiss.
"What made you go off with Rip, to begin with?" Barry finally asked the question that had been on his mind for years. "Couldn't just have been to steal stuff from the past."
"Since I was young I've challenged myself. First, it was to be intelligent like my grandfather. Then it was to be better than my father, a better role model to Lisa, then a better thief," Len said, standing up from the chair to lean against the balcony looking out across the skyline. "I wanted to be the Snart they remembered instead of the dirty cop who always got caught. And for a while, that was enough. Then this little shit in red leather-"
"It's not leather" the voice interrupted from behind him.
"This little shit in red not-leather," Len continued, "made me step up my game, challenged the way I'd conducted my business. But that challenge felt more like a threat, threatened my way of life and my skills. That was why I felt like I needed to take the Flash out. But then that shifted my perspective and I knew I'd met my match, unlike the cops or the feds. Even though he was reckless and approached every battle without a solid plan, just begging to get his stupid, yet hot, hero ass killed."
Len smiled slightly at the disgruntled snort behind him, ignored it without acknowledging it, and continued.
"And then I met Barry Allen, the man behind the mask, and you challenged me in a different way. First with how I approached the game. Then I needed to prove that I could still win."
"Thus Ferris Air," Len heard the voice interrupt again as he felt the warm, familiar body slide up behind him, strong arms curled around his waist. Barry pressed a kiss to the side of Len's neck before pressing closer against him, resting his chin on Len's shoulder. Len couldn't help but lean his head back and sink into Barry's embrace as they watched the colors of the sun that started to fade from hues of orange and pink to dark blue and purple.
"Among other reasons," Len replied. "But that was the Flash that came to me to help with Ferris Air. Barry Allen was the kid I met in the forest. Barry Allen was the kid that helped me save my sister, the kid that kept visiting me in prison, challenging me to be more. Barry Allen was the one that inspired me to join the Legends, to be more than someone who lied, who robbed, who hurt people. I realized I didn't want to just be a better criminal than my father. I wanted to be a better man."
"You are," Barry acknowledged immediately. And then Len felt his arms tighten around him and heard a slight hitch in Barry's breath. "You don't have to prove anything. Please don't leave again like that."
Len heard the unspoken words between the vocalized ones. The assurance that in Barry's eyes Len had nothing to prove to him about being a good man, the plea to not leave with the Legends again without saying goodbye, to not go where Barry couldn't follow, to sacrifice himself again.
And then the wine was forgotten, the beautiful skyline view ignored as they made love on the balcony, wonderful and tender. Often it was intimate and sensual, and then sometimes it wasn't; sometimes it was messy and rough, tumultuous, and steamy.
Like the time about a month ago the Flash had been patrolling Central City when a jewelry store alarm had been triggered. Rushing to the scene revealed no damage, nothing apparently stolen, just the door slightly ajar. He had moved to scope out the alley for a getaway when suddenly one of the shadows erupted, grabbing him by the shoulders and slamming him against the alley wall.
Barry let out a grunt of pain as he was pushed back against the brick. He kicked out at his attacker but it was quickly blocked. He was pushed back against the wall again, the force of the push knocking him off balance. His attacker's full force slammed into him, pressing his back against the brick, knocking the breath out of him. His attacker wasted no time in grabbing the disoriented man's wrists, forcing them up on either side of Barry's head, pinning them hard against the wall. Barry struggled, writhing and trying to break free of the grasp and the pressure pushing him into the wall, tugging on the vice-like grip. It was no use.
"Get off me," Barry growled, staring through his mask up at the man who had, just moments ago, attacked him. Len was in full Captain Cold gear, parka and all, goggles blocking the eyes Barry had become more accustomed to looking into versus the reflective blue lenses, cold gun strapped to his thighs. He could easily get away, could phase through the hold, and take Len out in a second. But curiosity won out and he pretended that Len had the upper hand.
"Come on," his attacker impishly smiled, leaning in close. "Don't you heroes case your environment? How did you miss me in the shadows?"
"Yeah well, " Barry sneered back playfully. "I wasn't exactly expecting to be attacked since you told me you had plans tonight. I can't believe you broke into a store just to initiate some playtime."
"Wouldn't be the first time I used this method to flirt with you. The only difference is this time you're not as oblivious," As he spoke, Barry felt the grip at his wrists tighten as Len moved till his broad body was so close to him, holding him tightly in place against the wall, leaning in close till he was just a few inches from Barry's face. "And this time, it's going to end the way I always imagined it would."
He adjusted his grip so he was pinning Barry's wrists together with just one of his hands. The other grabbed Barry by the chin, forcing his head back against the wall, leaning in just close enough till he was hovering. He held his face right there, his goggle covered eyes staring into the green eyes of Barry's beneath the cowl. He slowly moved his hand down Barry's neck, over the lightning bolt emblem across his chest.
"I like the new suit but I must confess, I miss the leather-"
"It wasn't leather, it was a friction proof try-polym-mmm" Barry's correction was stifled by Len's lips claiming his. The kiss was slow, teasing, almost enough to distract Barry from where they were doing what they're doing, dressed as they are. He let his eyes close as Len sucked on his lower lip, sighing, and then Len pulled away.
"I'm going to ignore the use of the word 'friction' as well as the fact that you're correcting me right now while I'm trying to have my way with you." Barry giggled at the remark from Len but was quickly turned into a moan as Len's knee nudged against his groin.
"What I was saying was as much as I miss the leather fetish-wear, I am quite a fan of how your new suit fits so snuggly, clinging to your muscles, that tight ass, leaving nothing to the imagination," Len drawled, voice low, lifting his goggles to rest atop his head revealing a darkly excited expression in his eyes. "And trust me, Flash, I have quite the imagination."
Barry was breathing heavily at the slow, sensuous touch of Len as he held him against the wall and stared into his eyes, his hand exploring with every lust filled word. Tracing down his stomach, fingers grazing over his tight abs through the skin-tight suit, eliciting a gasp from the younger man when Len's hand moved to the hidden seam beneath his belt and slipped up underneath the top of his uniform.
"Len, this is hardly the place," Barry whispered breathlessly, despite his halfhearted words of protest, his eyes and body dared the older man to make his move already.
"Nuh uh, Flash," Len clicked disapproving with his tongue as he brought his hand up to cup the side of Barry's neck, his other hand still restraining his wrists, faces centimeters apart. "Who am I tonight?"
The breath was hot on his lips despite the moniker of the man who was sending chills down Barry's spine. He could easily get out Len's grip, could end this right away if he'd wanted. But that wasn't he wanted, far from it.
"Please," Barry whispered, begging for what he really wanted, "Captain Cold."
Len barely let him finish the name before he dipped his head down to slam his lips against Barry's. Len's mouth enveloped his, tongue flicking almost violently against Barry's as they kissed hard. Barry arched up against the wall, grinding against Len's body, his teeth nipping at the older man's lips. Still holding his wrists with one hand, Len's other hand moved from Barry's neck, down his chest and stomach to trace lower, slipping under the front of his pants to rub against his growing cock. First, his leather-covered fingers glided, then squeezed.
Barry's head rocked back, pulling away from the kiss, his breath came short as Len's adept hand massaged his cock. He felt the hand trace around the sensitive head, teasing before moving directly onto the base, rapidly stimulating and tugging. Barry's breaths grew shorter and his body tightened as his body neared that peak and then...Len pulled his hand away.
Barry's mind came crashing back to his desperate body.
"You assho-mmmph!" Len clamped the glove covered hand over Barry's mouth, pressing his body up against Barry's. Len rocked his hips, his own bulge rubbing against Barry's thigh as he leaned in closer. Barry tried to protest beneath the hand, his breath catching in his throat as his need became painful.
"I was gonna let you finish your patrol and then fuck you later," Len whispered. Barry tried to turn his head away at the hot breath against the patches of exposed skin from the cowl that caused shivers of lust through his body, harsh breaths coming from his nose, but the hand over his mouth held him in place, "but here's as good a place as any."
With a tug on the wrists he had captured, Len yanked him away from the wall, spun the Flash around only to yank his arms behind him, and lock a pair of handcuffs around his wrists.
"Hey-mmph!" Len clamped a hand over Barry's mouth again, pulling his head back against Len's shoulder, and used his body to push him up forward against the wall. Barry began to halfheartedly struggle and twist in his assailant's grip until he felt the well-known, glove covered hand snake across his waist and slowly slide inside the waistband of his uniform, a soft chuckle of hot breath whispered in his ear.
"Relax," Len encouraged, laying a gentle kiss on the nape of Barry's cowl covered neck. And then suddenly the game was paused, Len sincere in a quick request for Barry's permission. "Is this okay?"
Barry thought for a moment. These were regular cuffs, not meta cuffs. This was nothing more than what they did at home, except out in the open, dressed in their uniforms, it added an air of risk and danger that spread almost as much heat through him as the sheer arousal of Len's confident bravado did. This was a fantasy he knew they both have had for a long time, even before they became a thing. Like Len said, here was as good a place as any.
Closing his eyes, Barry nodded.
"Good," was all Len said and the game resumed. With one hand still clamped over his mouth, his lover deftly yanked the tight red pants and his briefs one-handed down beneath his ass. Barry then heard the zip of a fly being undone and within seconds he felt the tip of Len's dick at his ass hole.
"Mnnnmmmmm," Barry squeezed his eyes shut and gasped through his nose as the head of the cock pushed its way into his exposed ass. His body trembled as Len's cock slowly, dry and so slowly, was pressed into him farther, pausing and pressing, and pausing as Barry pressed back. Barry felt Len's lips curve in a smile against his neck as he kissed and bit as his exposed jaw.
As Len ran his hand up and down the restrained man's cock, the leather of the glove creating a sensational feeling, Barry moaned while Len's cock slowly pushed it's way in. Len kept slowly pushing in until finally, he stopped, just staying like that, a hand clamped firmly over Barry's mouth, the other around his penis, and his own buried inside of him. Barry panted through his nose as his lover dragged his cock out of his ass only to slam back in.
"Mmm!" Barry moaned beneath the hand. Len paused again, letting it rest in his ass. Barry blinked rapidly, short moans of pain and pleasure making its way from behind the hand. It took all of Barry's focus to avoid vibrating, not wanting to free himself from the cuffs or of the hold Len had on him.
"Shhhhh," Len whispered against his neck as he pulled back and entered him again and continued to gain speed as he thrust in and out, forcing Barry up against the wall with each roll of his hips.
Barry's muffled moans grew louder, his body arching within his lover's arms as Len plunged into Barry's ass harder and faster, pumping his cock in time with his thrusts. Len wasn't sure who came first, the edges fuzzy. But Len felt Barry's cock jump in his hand, heard his lover moan beneath his glove, and his muscles clenched around Len's cock and that's all it took before he was arching his back and biting his lip to keep himself from yelling.
He milked Barry's orgasm right along with his, thrusting a few more times into his lover while he slowed his strokes of Barry's cock until he was milked dry and softening in his hand. They stayed like that for a few moments before Len pulled out, tucking himself back in and pulling his hand away from Barry's mouth.
Barry stayed collapsed against the wall, head leaning forward against the brick as gentle hands pulled up his pants over his hips and then released the cuffs. Len gently spun Barry to face him, lifting both of Barry's arms up to lay a kiss on each glove covered wrist where the cuffs had been. He then kissed him gently on the lips before Barry flashed them back to the apartment, the barely broken-in jewelry store forgotten as their uniforms were left abandoned on the bedroom floor where it became Barry's turn to use the cuffs.
But it was the moments in between sex, where they could share the deep stuff or not, where they could reveal a piece of themself or simply just enjoy the quiet. It was where they talked for hours or sat together in comfortable peace that made this so much more meaningful then either man could have expected. It was the way they cooked together in the kitchen and they would share about how Len had to learn in order to feed his sister growing up or how Barry took lessons from Joe and sped read cookbooks so he could keep up with his metabolism. And sometimes it was the way they cooked in the kitchen and just worked together to make a nice meal for themselves and then argued about who's turn it was to do the dishes. It was the nights Barry would stay over, coming back to the apartment after stopping a robbery in the middle of the night and crawling back into bed with Len, who would stir awake just enough to pull him close and press his forehead to his before they both drifted off. And sometimes it was a night uninterrupted for the Flash where Len would reach with one hand for the remote to turn up the ceiling fan because the snoring body sprawled on top of his was generating so much heat he couldn't stay asleep. It was quiet nights in, no romantic dinner or lust laden activities, just chatting about whatever came up or frivolous arguments while watching movies. And it was the moments where something became more, when laughter turned to lust, when a kiss turned into making love, when an argument became an understanding, a comment became a confession. It was the epitome of transformation, like their dynamic, their relationship.
"Jedi is the perfect movie," Barry had sprung up from where he had been laying back horizontally on the couch, legs draped over Len's who had been rubbing his feet. That in itself was a sweet gesture, but Barry couldn't explain what it meant to a runner. He lived on his feet, so for someone to take the time and thought to grab them and pay them specific attention, it made Barry feel special.
"I'm not saying it's not great," Len didn't look up from his task, about to defend his stance as 'A New Hope' still played on the TV screen in front of them as they idly chatted during the movie they'd each seen a hundred times separately. It was the middle of a Sunday afternoon after waking up together just a week or so ago, each man dressed in sweatpants and a T-shirt, with no plans but to see where the day went. "All I'm saying is of the three, I prefer New Hope over Jedi and that Empire is the superior of the franchise."
"Empire's the best for sure but Jedi has-ohhh, mmmm," Barry's argument was lost when a moan sent him sprawling backward on the couch as Len's thumbs kneaded just the right spot in the arch of his right foot.
"You were saying?" Len teased, giving the feet one more squeeze before he maneuvered himself fully across the cushions, stretching over Barry before encouraging the speedster to turn on his side. Barry complied as Len slid behind him, pressed between the slim body and couch-back as his head fell against the pillow, sharing it with the man as his left arm slid beneath Barry's shoulder and the cushions and the right around his waist.
"Don't think just because you can reduce me to a puddle with your hands means I'm going to suddenly agree with you," Barry said as he shifted till he was flush back against Len's body, bringing his own hands up to grip affectionately at the arms wrapped around him. "Han is a total badass in Empire. Very sexy."
"I always found Luke more interesting myself," Len responded, kissing the side of Barry's neck between words. "Who doesn't like a novice hero who is completely unqualified yet somehow ends up being the inspiration everyone needed? Put him in red and it could be your bio-pic."
"Ha ha," Barry pinched the arm beneath him. "Han has the best character development though. Plus, he was totally my sexual awakening. Bad boy, reluctant hero, swagger-"
"Well that explains a lot," Len laughed as he moved his lips up Barry's neck, cursing the healing factor that prevented any of Len's marks lasting more than twenty minutes. Didn't stop him from trying though. Barry ignored the interruption and continued.
"And that line where Leia tells him she loves him and he responds with 'I know'," Barry sighed. "Iconic."
"Sexual awakening huh?" Len asked, smiling to himself as he found the particular sensitive spot right behind Barry's right ear on his neck, causing the man in his arms to gasp as he vibrated suddenly and briefly. Since Len discovered that spot it was his favorite trick and would occasionally attack it at random. Being able to cause that kind of reaction in a person was addicting. And he particularly enjoyed it when Barry would blush suddenly at the response when it caught him by surprise.
"Jerk," Barry replied with no heat, pulling the arms around him closer, contradicting his dismay. "I was fourteen I think, watching Star Wars for the millionth time and then all of a sudden Han Solo comes on screen and boom, I realized I liked guys too. God, it was so embarrassing."
"Han shot first and you got hard?" Len teased, a playful elbow to his ribs the response. "Seriously though is that how you realized you were into men also?"
"It was the start of a long self-evaluation," Barry said, fingers delicately tracing the forearm wrapped around his waist. Len couldn't see Barry's face from where he was laying behind him, but he could just picture the melancholy smile on his face from the tone of his voice. "I went to Iris in tears, I was so confused. But she helped me figure it out, what I was feeling, what it meant, helped me get to that place where I could recognize myself as bisexual. She even helped me come out to Joe."
"How'd that go?" Len asked, halting in feather-light kisses to let Barry know he was genuinely listening.
"Coming out as bi was a lot easier than coming out as the Streak, if you can believe it," Barry chuckled and Len couldn't help but smile. Knowing Barry didn't struggle with the people that loved him gave Len comfort. It was a defining aspect of Barry's life, the love and support of his family, and Len wasn't sure why, but it brought him comfort to know someone he cared about didn't have the same kind of pain growing up that he did. Barry's childhood hadn't been easy, just like Len's, but Barry had people to hold him up, who showed up for him when he'd already lost so much, and it made him who he was today. Hearing a reminder that reinforced that idea for whatever reason gave Len the feeling of contentment.
"What about you?" Barry asked suddenly, interrupting Len's musings. "When did you come out as-" Barry paused, turning in Len's arms just enough to look up at him awkwardly over his shoulder, "wait, how do you identify?"
"I don't," Len sighed, thinking about his next words. "I never came out as anything. I refused to allow Lewis to know anything about my life. Besides, he was too busy being a garbage criminal and father to pay any attention. Lisa and Mick, I never said anything to either of them but they'd seen me with both men and women. Call it what you want, gay, bi, omnisexual, pansexual, I see what I want and I go after it. I'm not really into labels."
"That doesn't surprise me," Barry teased, leaning up for a chaste kiss on the lips over his shoulder before settling back to watch the movie, snuggling deeper into Len's arms. Len resumed peppering Barry's neck and jaw with slow sensual kisses, only stopping when he noticed Barry's body was tense now, Len suspecting it was from Barry's anxiousness at trying not to pry, to not ask for further explanation when he really wanted to know more.
"Labels are ties, Scarlet, and I've never belonged to anyone, never wanted to before," he explained, resting his chin against Barry's shoulder. "People always say stuff like 'be mine' or 'forever' and it honestly freaks me out. That's what it's like to be trapped, to be owned, to have no control and I can't do that. There are no strings on me. I won't be that or do that to someone."
"I totally get that, honestly. I guess I've just never seen it that way," Barry replied, his thumbs gliding back and forth across Len's arms. "All I've wanted my whole life was to belong. What you call strings, yes they can bind you, but to me, it's like a tether. When I lost my mom it was like the tether attaching me to her just got cut and she was gone. When they locked my dad up I still felt connected to him but it was strained. And then Joe took me in and I felt grounded again, like I wasn't going to float away or disappear, be forgotten or left behind. He's not my blood, but he's my Dad, ya know? It's an important label for me, even though it took us a long time to get there."
Len marveled at Barry's willingness to be vulnerable. He knew it came from growing up with parents who made it feel safe to come to them with a skinned knee or hurt feelings from a bully and then reinforced by a man who wasn't his father but made him feel loved and safe after his world was shattered and heart was broken. Len couldn't relate, and if he was being honest, didn't know if he could live the way Barry did. So open, so trusting, so raw all the time. But here he was anyway, sinking deeper into the phenomenon that was Barry Allen that had him questioning everything he thought he knew.
"As long as the ties that bind us together are stronger than those that would tear us apart, all will be well," Len quoted in reply. It wasn't quite an admission that maybe Barry was right, but more of a compromise to be optimistic and open to the notion of what Barry was proposing. It must have been understood because in response Len felt Barry kiss his forearm briefly.
"Do you feel that way about all labels?" The timid voice said out of nowhere after a few moments of silence. The question unasked hung in the air between them and Len hesitated on how exactly to answer.
"Not all labels. I don't mind the label Legend for me or Hero for you," Len finally replied, voice quiet as his lips hovered over Barry's ear, allowing a pregnant pause before continuing. "Or partner for you and me."
He felt the shiver run through the body wrapped in his arms, felt the warm blush spread the neck against his lips.
"Partner, huh?" Barry inquired, his hands pulling the arms tighter around him. "You call Mick your partner though. What about boyfriend?"
"What are we, teenagers?" Len laughed quietly at the little giggle he got in response. "God, you're an adorable, hopeless nerd."
"Oh please, you love that about me and you know it."
As soon as the words left Barry's lips, his body went rigid, sudden fear rushing through him as he realized what he had just implied.
"I know," Len replied softly, laying a soft kiss on the shoulder, feeling the man relax in his arms again as they held each other close and continued their Star Wars marathon with breaks for eating, conversations over dialogue, and an impromptu make-out session when a misty-eyed speedster turned towards him and kissed him long and hard during a particular seen in Empire where the bad boy sacrifices himself for his friends.
Many would assume that Len was not an overly affectionate man but the truth was he was always initiating contact, any excuse to touch Barry, examining him like a precious gem, wanting him to feel admired and desired because as far as Len was concerned, that's what you were supposed to do when you cared about someone. And even more, he let Barry do the same, he let him touch and ask questions and hold him. There was nothing off limits between them and Barry wondered if it was because they had already pushed the boundaries in their past, what with violence and betrayal being how they were introduced and moving past that left them with the worst behind them.
And now, as Barry worked his way through his snack, leaning back as he enjoyed the perfect sandwich, he couldn't help but let his mind wander to how they got to where they were right now, musing at the idea of standing in his boxers in the early morning hours in the apartment of Leonard Snart.
He wasn't sure why it was so easy to be open around each other, why being together felt effortless. But Barry felt free in a way he'd only ever felt before when he ran at super speed. And he felt safe in a way his friends would laugh and probably shout at him for, considering the gun that could stop him instantly rest just yards away from where he slept in the arms of the man that wielded it.
But Barry didn't often think of how their lives should be a thing that divided them, the differences between them weren't opposing forces. The Flash and Captain Cold weren't who they were, it was just a part of Barry and Len. It was a part of their history together. And what they didn't know about each other, they really liked getting to know about it. Barry loved learning about Len, about how he was actually really good at school before he dropped out, his passion for art and math. Barry learned Len liked to experiment; with style when he found a kilt or two in his wardrobe, with flavors when he cooked Tai just as well as he cooked Italian, with art when he discovered some canvases and charcoals in the back of the closet. Len always shrugged them off when Barry would ask him to expand on his newly learned tidbit like it wasn't that interesting. But Len on the other hand always treated each thing he learned about Barry like it was some wonderful discovery.
Like when he'd caught Barry singing 'Darling You Send Me' in the shower one morning before joining him. They'd showered together a few times already, although each time it usually ending up in sex, only not once or twice. As much as Barry enjoyed sex with Len, Barry had a dissertation at the CCPD in an hour and he and Len had a tendency to get, well, distracted, so he was hoping they would be able to control themselves.
"Sam Cooke?" Len questioned as he stepped inside, the steam disappearing just enough as the glass door opened for Barry see the broad shoulders, tanned skin, steel eyes vibrant even though he'd just woken up.
"Sorry, did my singing wake you?" Barry winced, Barry couldn't help but blush slightly as Len's naked body pressed against his back, reaching across Barry's body to turn the water temperature down slightly.
"No, the sudden loss of inferno fire on top of me woke me," Len teased, kissing the side of Barry's neck as the man joined him under the spray. He knew Barry could sing, he'd caught him a few times when he didn't think Len was listening and Len wondered what other hidden talents the man had. But right now, he had one discovery he had to focus on. "So, Sam Cooke?'
"You don't like? Cuz I take requests," Barry turned to face Len and wound his arms around his waist, pulling him close, water cascading around them.
"I'm just surprised you do. I didn't take you for a jazz type, more top 40," Len teased before kissing him deeply.
"I like a lot of different music. I mean Lady Gaga seems to be the thing that pulls me out of a coma every time," Barry giggled as Len raised an eyebrow, knowing that Len had just logged that little confession as an inquiry for later. "But I was raised by Joe West, the duke of soul, so I grew up on Jazz."
"Well, you do have great taste. Don't stop singing on my account," Len reached around him without pulling away to get a pump of shower gel. Barry laughed, leaning forward to nuzzle his nose, kissing him again before he continued singing where he left off.
Len lathered up his hands and began massaging Barry's muscled back, covering it with soap. As Barry sang softly, Len moved his hands across Barry's front, arms and hips before moving to his own chest. Barry's singing trailed off as he watched Len travel his hands down across his own pecs, stomach, and low down his hips, the soap suds running down Len's legs.
Damnit, Barry cursed before lunging forward to pull at Len's hands, tugging him directly under the water stream with him and wrap his arms around the lathered body, lips crushing against Len's. Barry was late for the dissertation that morning which wasn't so shocking, considering he was usually late anyway, but the score for sex versus no sex in the shower tipped further in the favor of the former.
Much like everything else in Barry's life, the universe had a way of shocking the hell out of him in the best and worst ways. He just prayed this ended up being one of those good times. He didn't know what this was between them or if it would go anywhere past this, but two months in and he planned on enjoying it for as long as it lasted.
And he realized he wanted it to last. The Sunday afternoon they spent watching Star Wars had been the first time they spoke about love but not the last, even though they'd never said the words to each other. In fact just last night over dinner and wine the conversation somehow found its way to the topic.
"Unconditional love," Barry had said in response to something Len had commented about from a plot point in a book he had been reading earlier.
"That doesn't exist," Len scoffed, taking a sip of wine before noticing the earnest look on his lover's face. "You really believe that it does?"
"I don't just believe it, I've experienced it," Barry replied, standing from the table to gather the dishes as he cleaned up.
"From who?" Len followed, gathering what little remained of the two trays of pasta carbonara they had prepared together. Len had had two helpings where Barry had eaten a tray and a half, the few servings that remained would be eaten randomly tomorrow when Barry was looking for a mid-day snack. The preparation of meals and knowing what would become of the leftovers for the always hungry speedster became routine to Len, a routine he enjoyed.
"My parents, all three of them. The way my mother held me, spoke to me as if I created the stars or something. She'd call me her beautiful boy and told me she truly came alive the day I came into her world. It made knowing I was the reason she died all that much harder," Barry spoke while he washed the dishes, Len leaning against the counter next to him, enraptured in his words as he sipped on his wine.
"And my dad, things weren't perfect between us but the man lost his reputation, his freedom, spent seventeen years in prison for something he didn't do, and every Saturday for two hours it was as if none of that mattered. Whatever pain he was going through, my life, my problems, my stories took precedent."
Barry wiped his hands off on the nearby dish towel and then hopped up to sit on the counter, a fond smile on his face as he reached for Len's glass of wine from his hand, taking a sip before giving it back. Len rolled his eyes as he drank from the returned glass. This was another habit they'd somehow developed, Len sharing his drinks unwillingly. Barry would drink from his coffee cup, wine glass, steal from his plate and Len allowed him because he found the idea that the Flash was a food thief kind of ironic and adorable. It's like once you gave Barry Allen permission to come into your world, he came in all the way, no holds barred. And Len found himself shocked that he was fond of it after spending a lifetime of keeping people at arm's length.
"And then there's Joe. You want to know what unconditional love is? It's taking in a kid, going through all the growing pains of raising a child, plus trauma and heartache and anger, running away, sleepless nights because of nightmares, therapy, and theories. And knowing you don't have to endure any of this because this damaged kid isn't even your blood but doing it anyway and making sure that child knows he's safe and wanted and special...that's unconditional love. It's how I was raised. It's the only kind of love I've ever known. It's all I know how to give."
Len pushed away from the counter and moved to stand in front of Barry, between the legs draped over the counter and placed his hands on Barry's hips.
"You're a culmination of all of them, you know. Your father, a man of science who chose to use his brilliance to help people. Your mother, someone who saw the world through an artist's lens of beauty and light. And your adoptive dad, dedicating his life to serve and protect. You're all of that in one unique, gorgeous, green-eyed package." Len leaned in, peppering kisses along Barry's neck between his next few words. "Brilliant. Kind. Beautiful. Heroic."
"I thought I was impulsive and reckless and a stupid idiot," Barry smiled, craning his neck as he allowed Len to continue.
"Oh you're all that too, I promise you that." Len lunged in for a chaste kiss on the lips before continuing. "But, no wonder you're a mess. God, Barry, to give that much of yourself? Kid, that's the kind of thing that can destroy you, the kind of thing people can use against you."
"Would you?" Barry dared.
"Never again," Len answered without hesitation.
"How come?" Barry asked, tilting his head in question. He knew Len meant what he said, believed the good in him dictated his actions now, but wanted to hear the reasoning if he could get Len to spill.
"I'm a thief. I'm used to taking what I want, stealing what I need. But here you are giving it away," Len shrugged, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
"I'm serious, Leonard," Barry insisted, bringing his hands to rest against the sides of Len's neck. His eyes bore into Len's with a quiet intensity, an adoration and a question, willing Len to continue to be honest with him.
"So am I, Bartholomew," Len lets his hands travel from Barry's hips to wrap around his waist, staring intently into Barry's eyes. "I'm not that man anymore, a man that ruins people. And I'm certainly not a guy who enjoys handouts. What kind of thief takes pleasure in an easy score? No, I'm gonna work at this. I'm gonna steal your heart every damn day over and over for as long as I can get away with it."
His words, honest and genuine, were rewarded with a new smile Len had yet to see from Barry. It started with a slight upturn of one corner of his mouth but shone through his eyes.
"It's not really stealing if I give it over willingly," he said, the smile disappearing in a kiss as he dipped his head to capture Len's lips between his.
They hadn't even bothered to clean up, the kiss atop the counter leading to Len carrying Barry to the bedroom where they lay awake, too insatiable to do anything but explore every inch of each other for hours before finally succumbing to exhaustion from exertion. At least until about twenty minutes ago when Barry's insatiable hunger forced him to leave the bed.
It was like they were making up for the time they'd been missing, years of an evolving relationship culminating into two months spent holding each other as if they only had tonight but also as if they had all damn night. Barry would never say it was wasted time from when they'd first met because it brought him here, a here that felt like it was always meant to be even though it had never crossed his mind, something he didn't know he was missing. And even though it only had been two months, Barry felt like things were clearer than it had ever been. The way they'd come together, how easy it had been to connect now that they were together, Barry felt like having Len in his arms was where he could be content to stay forever. He never wanted to unfold from around him.
"You know those are my boxers, right?"
Barry nearly jumped out of his skin at the voice that abruptly interrupted his thoughts as Len rounded the corner of the hall into the main living space.
He looked down and realized that, yes these definitely weren't his and smiled sheepishly at Len. Placing the now empty plate in the sink, Barry then began walking towards the other man who was completely naked.
"Want them back?" Barry teased, sliding his thumbs between his hips and the waistband as he shimmied up to stand in front of Len.
"Well, if you're offering to take them off," Len reached his arms around Barry's waist, pulling the leaner man against him, bodies pressed together chest against chest as their lips met in a kiss slow and soft. Barry could lose himself in the way Len kissed him, could lose himself in this man. The thought both terrified and excited him. "Come back to bed?"
"Want me to clean up first?" Barry asked. He watched as Len looked over Barry's shoulder at the left out containers of grilled chicken, vegetables, deli cheese, the mustard jar with the spoon still in it. The new mess intertwined with the mess still left from last night that had been abandoned after their talk of unconditional love led to all-night lovemaking.
Normally when they'd prepare meals together, Len would reach around him and put things away as Barry finished with them, marveling at how a man with super speed couldn't find time to clean as he went. Like so many things, they had different techniques and methods of how they went about life. But Len just shrugged and looked back to Barry.
"It can wait," Len answered in a breathy whisper, moving his hands from around Barry's waist to gently grab his wrists, pulling him back toward the bedroom where he hoped for them to spend a little more time together before the rest of the world woke.
Barry followed without question, knowing he was in too deep to turn back now, not that he wanted to.