This Delicate Thing We've Made
genre: Romance
rated: M
Chapter 9: Alive
"I never needed nobody, now I never want to leave you alone
It's crazy, how every time you smile you make the world disappear
And baby, you light up my horizon
Like I just started breathing for the first time in my life
I'm alive
And when I've lost all reason
And when I've lost all of my hope
You are something to believe in
You took my heart of stone and turned it into gold"
Len knew he should try to go back to sleep. His internal alarm didn't usually wake him for another couple of hours where his morning routine started with a six a.m. workout, either weights at home followed by making breakfast for four even though it was usually only him and a hungry speedster, or he'd go for a jog in the neighborhood with a stop at a local bodega for the paper and some breakfast sandwiches and pastries. Sometimes though he'd just lie in bed till the man pressed against him roused as well, an air of domesticity that Len didn't realize he was capable of or that he'd ever want but just felt so natural and right with Barry.
This morning though Len had woken up at four a.m. after only just falling asleep three hours ago. He lay on his back awake and turned his head to see his bedmate on his back as well, sharing Len's pillow, their head just inches from each other. Barry's long brown lashes rest against pale skin, lips pressed together softly, right arm and upper body pressed against Len's side but his left arm crooked up and over his head. He looked at peace, relaxed and Len was just so relieved to see that Barry had been able to rest, the thought of getting out of bed and going about his day didn't even enter his mind. He was content to watch him and make sure he stayed that way. Especially after last night.
It had been eleven p.m. when Len couldn't go back to sleep after Barry received a sudden alert on his phone. He'd fathwoomed out of there with a quick kiss to Len's lips, a promise he'd be back in a flash, and the suggestion that Len go back to sleep. An hour later and Len had been getting antsy. Instead of lying in an empty bed, he sat himself down to do some work at his desk, pencil tapping away as he prepared for the finalities of his upcoming invited break-in to Concordance Research in just a few days' time. They seemed to have a similar duct system design to S.T.A.R. Labs and Len considered sweet-talking his way into poking around. Luckily he was sleeping with its owner so he knew a few ways to get him to say yes.
His thoughts began to wonder then to Barry, his body, all the ways he'd explored, and all the ways he'd still like to explore the other man. These months with Barry had been the happiest of Len's life, more fun than his time with the Legends, more satisfying than his array of triumphant scores over the course of his career. He'd fallen hard and fast, feelings that Len didn't know he was capable of feeling, not after years of burying anything like them down, keeping anyone from getting even close enough to consider anything real or long-lasting. But he knew what he was getting into when he'd sought the man out, knowing what he wanted from his first day back in Central City, even if it took him a little while to go after it, and reaffirmed when he was hugged tightly by a teary-eyed speedster who was so pleased to see him alive.
But with a shake of his head, he tried to clear his thoughts. How bad did he have it if he was getting distracted by the man when he wasn't even there? Len tried to focus on the blueprints and forgave himself when he occasionally let his mind wander to Barry's lips, long legs, the lithe body underneath him, as well as the smile that reached his eyes, that infectious giggle, and all the ways he'd say his name; in ecstasy as they made love, in frustration as he teased him, in a smile when he'd surprise or spoil him.
"L-Len," he heard his name stuttered in pain suddenly. Len whipped his head towards the sound of Barry's voice. There Barry stood in the entryway, no wind or lightning announcing his entrance. He was still in his Flash suit, cowl down, hunched over the kitchen island leaning heavily against it as if it was the only thing keeping him upright.
"Jesus Christ, Scarlet," Len sprung to his feet and ran over to the hero, slipping his arms around his waist so Barry could shift his weight to Len instead. Len leaned back assessing, adjusting his grip. Barry lifted his right arm to drape across Len's shoulder, his left pressed against his side, bracing his ribs. There was blood on his jaw and neck, an angry abrasion that looked like road rash, the suit frayed at the neckline where the rest of the scratching disappeared. Other than that it was intact, no indication of any life-threatening wounds but Len knew that injuries beneath the surface could be just as potentially lethal.
"I'm okay, just a little banged up," Barry leaned into him further, resting his head against Len's shoulder.
"Barry you're hurt, I have to take you to S.T.A.R. Labs or at the very least call Snow-"
"No, please," Barry shook his head against his neck. "I just need to get cleaned up and lie down."
"Scarlet-" Len said, hoping his voice was calmer then he felt. Barry pulled away and started to walk towards the bathroom. Len didn't let him get more than a few steps without him, moving to his right, wrapping an arm around his waist throwing his arm over his shoulders.
"Len, I'm fine. I'm just going to heal anyway, what does it matter where I am," Barry groaned, exhausted, unable to hide the wince as Len maneuvered himself around him.
"It matters because the labs have IV drips and gauze and equipment to monitor and help you better than my pathetic first aid kit," he grumbled as they cleared the bathroom, twisting his grip as he eased Barry onto the side of the tub.
"Its a couple of scratches and bruises. I just want to be in a real bed in your arms," Barry breathed through closed eyes as Len scurried for the first aid kit, coming to kneel on the bath mat in front of where Barry was perched on the tub's edge. "Look, if I'm not better by tomorrow I'll go, I promise, but please, I just want to rest and be held and be home."
Against Len's better judgment, he gave in to Barry's pleas. He helped him out of the suit and resisted the urge to throw him over his shoulder and drag him to the labs himself when he saw the swathe of bruising on his ribs, left shoulder, and a closer look at the abrasions on the side of his neck. He said nothing as he helped him into the shower, ran a wet cloth across the scrape on Barry's cheek and neck, the speedster wincing at the sting. Len gently helped him wash the sweat and dirt off his face, gentle fingers combing his hair back under the calming warm spray of water, massaging his scalp. Barry let him take the lead, washing his body and then wiped him down with a fluffy towel, followed by gentle application of antiseptic to the scratches on his jaw. They didn't bother with clothes as they climbed into bed, Barry wanting nothing more than to collapse into sleep sooner rather than later. Len lied down beside him, wrapping his arms around him, Barry nuzzling against him.
Barry didn't explain what had happened, what he'd been up against, and wasted no time falling asleep in Len's arms. He watched Barry sleep for about an hour, monitoring his breathing, convincing himself he'd done the right thing before he was satisfied enough to allow himself to follow Barry into slumber.
Which brought him to now, a couple of hours after he'd initially woken up when Barry began to stir awake. Len had drifted in and out waiting for the other man to wake up but when he felt Barry begin to sir, Len watched through cracked eyes as Barry unfolded his arm to stretch out, the pull on his healing ribs caused him to wince.
"I saw that," Len accused and Barry turned to look at him, eyes blinking heavily as he slowly awoke, his body shifting to curl up against Len, cautious with his movements which told Len he hadn't healed completely or slept nearly enough.
"You're dreaming," Barry whispered with a ghost of a sleepy smile, kissing the tip of Len's nose as he burrowed into the pillow they had shared during the night.
Len's eyes opened up a little more as he turned on his side facing Barry. He reached a hand over and to the barely-there bruising on his shoulder and pressed lightly. Barry's eyes followed his movements but the pressure didn't cause him any pain or make him flinch. Thank god for speed healing, even after only the few hours of sleep he'd gotten. If he'd eaten before bed his metabolism would have kicked the healing into higher gear but he had been too exhausted. When Len's hands traveled down to Barry's ribs he was rewarded with a slight grunt and a wince. He then reached a hand up to Barry's neck where the skin was still raised and red but the abrasions on his jaw and neck from the night before were gone.
"You're staying in bed today," Len insisted, running his hand through the tufts of soft hair, taming the locks sticking out in all directions.
"You know how I feel about being told what to do," Barry replied, smirked but then winced as he draped his left arm lazily around Len's waist. "However, even I can't argue with a good idea."
Len slid a hand between Barry's neck and the pillow, his lover turning further towards him and leaning into the touch.
"You're an infuriating mess, you know that?" Len smiled at him, cupping his neck, thumb gently tracing Barry's jawline. Wrapped around his finger this kid had him.
"I'm your mess though," Barry smiled up at him, nudging his nose with his.
He was right. Barry was his, he was Barry's. There was no denying it even if they wanted to. In a single night, he'd felt pride at watching his hero go off in the middle night, mild concern mixed with daydreams and fantasies as he waited for his return, then worry and frustration when he tended to the injured speedster. He felt utter contentment with him in his arms, relief that he was okay, and happiness as they lay in bed till the afternoon just wrapped around each other. He also felt so full of emotions, so completely whole with his feelings and Len realized that this was what life was supposed to be, this was what it meant to be alive.
"Did you work this hard when you were illegally breaking into places?" Barry asked as he came up behind where Len sat at his desk. He was feeling better after spending all morning in bed lazily wrapped in each other's arms, the scrapes and bruises all gone. It was late in the morning now, and he'd just devoured a large brunch of waffles and bacon and a six egg omelet. Len had been working on the blueprints he abandoned last night after Barry came home injured while Barry took care of his speedster needs. But now that he was feeling good as new, he was interested in taking care of some other needs.
He slid his arms down Len's shoulders, across his chest, and hunched over him, draping himself across Len's back as he nudged Len's head with his own.
"Well, I have to replace one reputation with another and that means being the best," Len put down the pen and lifted his hands to grasp at the wrists that wrapped around his chest. "You know how I get."
Barry couldn't help the snort of amusement at that. Len was thorough, in every aspect, from break-ins to the bedroom. It was something Barry not only admired but appreciated, especially in bed.
"Ok, but what if you took a break?" Barry suggested hesitantly, gritting his teeth in an awkward smile as he pushed his luck. "Like the whole day kinda break."
"Is Mr. CSI slash superhero slash owner of S.T.A.R. Labs suggesting I play hooky?" Len teased, amused, as he spun the chair around, Barry's arms sliding to wrap around his back now as he faced him. Barry climbed onto his lap, a leg on each side of his as Len brought his hands up to wrap around Barry's waist.
"Just you and me, no Flash, no blueprints," Barry grinned at him, seeing Len wavering. It was an enticing offer, Barry's body healed and unmarried, sweatpants resting low on his hips as he straddled Len's lap.
"Well, it is my own company," Len said without giving it any more thought. Wrapping his arms tighter around Barry's waist he stood up, a startled yelp and a giggle from Barry who reflexively wrapped his legs tight around Len's waist as the man carried him over to the couch.
They had made love right there in the living room for the rest of the morning and well into the early afternoon. Len challenged Barry to a game of chess on the balcony in nothing but their briefs and soon found himself being bested, Barry laughingly telling him that he had been in the chess club in high school, amongst about a half dozen others including anime club.
"I may be old, Barry, I'm not ancient," was Len's grumpy response to Barry asking him if he'd ever heard of Dragon Ball Z while also realizing he was about two moves away from potentially having to surrender to Barry's queen piece.
They followed it up by taking a walk in Central City Park where they sat on a hill by the waterfront, shoes and socks off, barefoot on the grass while they lounged against each other, Len leaned back against a nearby tree, Barry's head in his lap. It was relaxing and quiet until Barry's stomach interrupted their tranquility. There was a fleet of food trucks gathered in a circle at the edge of the park, a perfect excuse to try nearly everything and feed his insatiable speedster hunger, from Halal to Tex-Mex, soup dumplings to poutine, Barry was in heaven. They "shared" their dishes, Len enjoyed having a sampling of a variety and Barry's hunger was satiated. Like in so many ways, how they were different brought them balance.
Len brought peace to Barry's life, made him feel like he didn't have to be the best version of himself, that who he was in his authenticity was enough. Len would tease him for being late but never gave him grief. He worried about him when he went off on Flash business but "threatened" to pull the cold gun on him if he didn't take care of himself. He'd call him a hero in the same breath he'd call him an idiot. There was no false pretense of perfection between them, no expectations to be anything other than exactly who they were now, together.
They weren't a perfect couple. They never claimed to be and never tried to be. They were very different men. Len could be cold, sometimes abrasive, and stubborn which often clashed with Barry's own brand of stubbornness, emotional, and self-burdening with responsibility. But what defined them as the men they were was also what defined them as a couple. They were passionate, determined, and even where they were different, they brought each other into a balance that was delicate and complimentary. Barry had a playful sense of humor, Len a deadpan and sarcastic one. Barry put everyone above him first, he loved people, was soft but strong, a quiet power that sparked through him as much as the lightning in his veins. Len, on the other hand, was a loner, a man usually with a singular mission, hyper-focused and driven to see something through to the end.
So no, they weren't perfect, individually as people or together as a couple. By textbook definition, they weren't even perfect for each other. But they worked, together they thrived, and it made them both feel more alive then they'd ever felt before. And that was saying a lot considering they had both literally died before.