While talking to Len, Barry slips and calls him Daddy (technically, he calls him "Dad", but as Len says, that's semantics). When he does, he comes to find out that Len really likes being called Daddy. (Warning for "phone sex", masturbation, some relationship self-doubt, and one incident of Sara getting shot in the butt)

***This was just a quick little one-shot I wrote because I had this idea and immediately thought of Len and Barry from this series in particular. I'm adding it here so that it doesn't get lost in the shuffle. The title, though admittedly stupid, actually has a double meaning. It doesn't refer only to the sexual aspect of the situation, but the way Barry constantly reassures Len that he wants to be in this relationship, and Len has nothing to worry about. This one-shot also shows how far these two have gotten in this relationship. At this point, Barry knows more about what Len does, he knows about the Waverider, he's met the crew. This way, if I get around to writing the sequel that I want to write, it'll make a bit more sense. I also took some liberties with regard to the tech on the Waverider and with regard to Len's gun. You'll see what I mean when you read it. I hope you guys enjoy it.

"So, where is it that you're going again?" Len props his feet on the low, metal table in his quarters and lays his cold gun across his lap. Oddly, having his weapon close gives him a measure of comfort, the weight of it pressing on his thighs anchoring him to the here (onboard the Waverider) and now (somewhere over Beijing in the year 2043), which he finds he needs (but hates himself for) while he talks to his boyfriend.

It's not talking to his boyfriend that rifles Len's nerves. It's their current topic of conversation.

"I'm going to a tattoo convention in Baltimore," Barry assures him, patiently, and for about the fiftieth time. "I'm only going to be gone three days, but I'll take my communicator with me everywhere I go. I promise."

Len's lips curl into a half-grin without conscious effort. Barry cut straight to the chase; he knows what to say to assuage Len. With these new communicators Ray built to look exactly like regular Samsung Galaxy phones, Len and Barry can talk any time the Waverider is within transmission range of Earth 2016, and no one would be none the wiser.

But Len wouldn't be Len if he didn't give the people he cared about a hard time.

"And you're going with who again?"

"Well, I'm going with your sister, her boyfriend, and Iris," Barry stresses with a laugh before arriving at the true point of contention, "and Steve Torrence from The Ink Spot Downtown."

"Do I know this guy?" Len picks up his gun and aims it straight ahead, picturing, at random, one of several guys that he's caught flirting with Barry during his nightly check-ins over the last six months.

"Yes, you know this guy."

"Do I want to kill this guy?"

"You did the first time you met him" - Barry sounds distracted, but Len knows that's only because he's in the middle of packing - "but then I introduced you to his partner and their two daughters, and you were pretty cool with him after that."

Pretty cool meant Len glared a lot and kept an arm locked around Barry's waist, but didn't say too much.

Len powers up his gun. Barry hears the hum over the communicator and fondly shakes his head. Len has gone from being a reluctant boyfriend (not because he didn't want to be with Barry. Far from it. But because he was afraid that being with Barry meant impinging on his life), to a possessive boyfriend. An extremely possessive boyfriend. Barry doesn't mind possessive Len. In fact, he finds it kind of hot. But it comes with constantly reassuring the man that he has nothing to fear.

Even though Barry knows that Len can flip a switch on that futuristic time traveling ship he's on and see for himself.

But Barry doesn't mind the constant reassuring. He hasn't been as affected by anyone the way he has by Len in a long time, probably not since his lifelong crush on Iris. He has no intention of seeing this relationship end any time soon, especially when Barry and Len get so little time to spend together.

Time. That's the crux of it. Len had told Barry when they first met that Barry would one day discover that time means little to him. And now that they've been dating for a while, Barry gets it. But ironically, time has come to mean a lot to Barry with regard to Len, more than he ever thought possible.

"Okay," Len says, clearing potential targets from his mind and laying the gun back in his lap. "I guess he gets to live."

"That's very generous of you."

"What can I say? I'm a people person."

"You gotta trust me, Len." Barry laughs, slightly exasperated. "Don't you trust me?"

"I do trust you." Len's gaze wanders down to his gun, eyes following the lines that run along the barrel, straight and linear. Not like the scars on Barry's chest that zigzag and fork in every direction. God, he misses those marks, and the smooth skin they're imprinted on. He's itching to trace them with his fingertips again, lick lightly over them until Barry gasps his name. Len runs a finger down the ridge of his weapon from trigger to tip, trying to recreate the sensation. He can appreciate the construction of his weapon, the cool efficiency of its design, but it's in no way the same. Barry isn't cold and metallic. He's heat and electricity and flesh and blood. "It's the rest of the world I'm not entirely kosher with."

"And why do you have to worry about the rest of the world for, huh?"

Len sighs, slightly exasperated himself. Not with Barry, but with the fact that they're having this discussion twenty-seven years apart. There's no way to detour to 2016 so that Len can talk to Barry in person, no way to change course so that Len can go to Baltimore with him. Aside from these new communicators that Ray developed so that Jax could talk to his mom, Dr. Stein could contact his wife, Sara could call her father (then, out of the blue, three just happened to turn up on Len's bunk), Len wouldn't even be able to have this conversation with him.

This was their relationship, the best Len could give Barry at the moment.

Len thinks Barry deserves better.

"Because one day, the world's gonna wake up and realize just how frickin' amazing and special Barry Allen really is, and then…"

"And then, what, Len? I'm going to find someone better? I'm going to leave you for some guy on the street or who walks into my shop?"

Len doesn't give Barry an answer. They've had this conversation one too many times for both their tastes. Barry isn't in any way untrustworthy, but a sliver of insecurity from Len's childhood lurks inside him, the fear that the people he cares about will someday either turn on him or leave. Even with the visible scars from Len's past covered up, Len has emotional scars that his father carved deeper using his sadism and hate, ones he spread wider by telling Len repeatedly, beating into his head that he was insignificant, replaceable...

…worthless.

But Barry reminds Len every day that he's with him that worthless isn't a word that Len uses anymore, especially when he talks about himself. Len is worthy of life, worthy of love, worthy of happiness.

He's just not sure that he's worthy of Barry.

"Well, you keep an eye out," Len says, sidestepping Barry's question. "Remember that wolves can walk around dressed like sheep. I should know." Len grins like the wolf he is. "I'm one of them."

"Not that you make a very convincing sheep, but yes, I'll keep an eye out."

"Take the mace I gave you. And the Kubaton. And the Taser. And if you get into any trouble…"

"Run. I know that one already," Barry finishes with a lump in his throat. Len had started saying that to Barry on his last stop off in 2016. Apparently Sara forced the team to watch Forrest Gump the first time they could intercept a decent Netflix signal. Len had never seen the movie before, and admitted that he was offended by about ninety percent of it on the basis of historical inaccuracies alone. But the part before Forrest goes to Vietnam, when his baby mama Jenny tells him that if trouble comes his way, not to be a hero, just run, really struck Len to heart. (Sara claimed that Len almost cried. Len countered that he merely became water-eyed from falling asleep so often with his eyes open.)

But hearing Len recount it slayed Barry.

Barry didn't tell Len that his mother used to say the same thing to him when he was younger, when he was bullied, and it filled him head to toe with soul-wrenching grief. He hid his reaction behind a groan and a kiss, but it cemented for Barry the idea that there was a reason why Len dropped into his life. Nora Allen always told her son that people come into our lives for a reason. So to Barry, hearing Len say those words felt not like serendipity…but like his mother might have sent Len to him. But Barry couldn't tell Len that. Len still struggles with the idea of being considered "a decent human being". Barry telling Len what he believed might make Len distant, and Barry doesn't need that. They already have plenty of distance between them. They don't need any more.

"I mean it, Barry. You have to look out for yourself at all times."

"And I will. But you have to remember that this is Baltimore I'm going to. Not Dubai."

"I don't care if it's motherfuckin' Disneyland. I need you to stay safe, Barry. You understand me?"

Barry does understand. Len knows that he does. They talked about what Barry was getting himself in to by dating Len, full disclosure, no holds barred. And Barry believed every word out of Len's mouth without exception, even before Len took Barry to see the Waverider and meet her crew. That alone could have totally pointed the way to Len believing that Barry was meant for him. But Len has a hard time with that. A hard time believing that fate or the universe or any power that bestows good things on good people would want Len for Barry. Len even went the step of discussing the subject over with Dr. Stein (hypothetically, of course), looking for the educated opinion of a man happily ensconced in a long-term relationship. Unfortunately, Ray got wind of it, but only vaguely, mostly the universe part, and made mention of the fact that most philosophers don't believe that if the universe were a sentient entity it would feel any responsibility toward its inhabitants one iota. So everything that happens on planet Earth happens purely by chance, hence the occasional bouts of chaotic unrest that occur.

Len didn't talk to Ray civilly for three months after that.

But regardless of what Barry understands, Len isn't taking any chances with his safety. The crew of the Waverider has already had run-ins with other rogue time masters, assassins, pirates, dragons, evil scientists, bounty hunters, and some freakish Harry Potter-looking ghost thing called a Time Wraith. Len didn't want any of that finding its way to 2016 to haunt Barry.

Besides, they'd already been to Baltimore 2718. It sucked.

"I hear you, Dad," Barry teases, just a joke, but for some reason, it makes Len sit up, hold his gun tighter, curl his lower lip between his teeth and bite down.

"You know, you keep running your pretty little mouth like that, Barry Allen, and you're going to get yourself in a whole heap of trouble."

There's a subtle intake of breath, and a pause from Barry's end of the line. "Why? What did I say?"

"You called me Daddy."

A longer pause, then Barry chuckles. "Technically, I called you Dad."

"Semantics," Len says, readjusting himself in his chair, feet flat on the floor and legs spread. "I knew what you meant."

"You like that?" Barry asks, no longer teasing.

"I don't know. Why don't you call me it again and we'll find out?"

"Alright…" Barry agrees in a lower, seductive tone, "Daddy…"

"Yeah," Len moans behind lips pinched tight. "Yeah, I think I do like it."

"Better than Captain Cold?"

"Hmmm, I haven't decided yet. That one's still pretty hot."

"So, what kind of trouble could I get into…Daddy?" Len hears Barry stop packing and climb onto his bed, the telltale sound of sheets shifting and springs compressing that Len has heard dozens of times before cluing him in. Len closes his eyes and pictures Barry lying on his back with the communicator to his ear, hand creeping down his shirt to the hem, slowly lifting it to reveal the marks he knows Len loves.

"I think that depends on which one you call me."

"Which one will get you hotter? Captain Cold? Or Daddy?"

Len gives it a thought. Eyes still shut, he pictures Barry slipping the shirt off completely and running a hand down his skin to the waistband of his jeans… "If we're just making out, call me Captain Cold. But the next time we make love, I want you to call me Daddy."

"So…would I call you that when you take me from behind?"

"No, I think I'd prefer having you ride me and looking me in the eyes when you call me that."

Barry's gulp resonates through the communicator, pressed against Len's ear so hard it's leaving an indent. "So, you want me to sit in your lap, naked, arms wrapped around your shoulders, legs around your waist, looking into your eyes when I call you Daddy?"

"That's right, baby…"

"O-okay…" The word whispers…then it shudders "…Daddy…"

Barry's voice gets huskier, raspier. Len is on the cusp of asking Barry if he's touching himself, where is he and how is he, and is he in any way close, when he hears another voice, a woman's voice, say, "Yee-haw…"

Barry hears it, too, and he knows what it will mean. "Len," Barry says, shunting the greatest orgasm that almost was by squeezing himself tight under the head. "Len, don't do it."

"Too late," he hears Len say, along with a laughing Sara begging, 'No. Don't. I'm sorry. I won't do it again…' "I warned her."

"Len," Barry scolds, but it's not too effective when he's already snickering.

Barry hears the sound of Len's gun fire (a sound that Barry has only heard a handful of times before). In the background, Sara screams. "Christ! That's cold, Len!"

A klaxon wails, and a different female voice - one smooth, suave, and imperceptibly artificial in its perfection - says, "Mr. Snart, I don't think Captain Hunter would appreciate it if he found out that you were discharging your weapon on the ship while we're hovering between time streams."

"Tattletale," Len mutters.

"Mr. Snart," another voice joins in from somewhere farther away, possibly over an intercom, "please refrain from firing your weapon inside the ship. I don't need you blowing a hole through the hull."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Len mutters as the screeching alarm cuts off. "I'll be careful, Captain."

"That won't hurt her permanently, will it?" Barry asks. Cock still half-hard in his fist, he despises himself for finding the thought of Len finally making good on his threat to shoot Sara with his cold gun as funny as he does.

"Nah. Our little friend Ray hooked me up, added power settings to my gun. You know, to help with all the Good Samaritan-ing we're doing. Turns out, it works a lot better being one of the good guys when you don't kill everyone you shoot."

Barry snickers so hard, he snorts. "I guess that makes sense."

"Anyway, she started runnin' so I only got her in the left ass cheek. She's got another one. Besides, she's an assassin. It's not like she's a dancer or anything."

"Well, I hope she can at least walk."

"She can hop around on one leg like a flamingo for all I care. How about you?" Len never did get confirmation as to whether or not Barry was jerking it before they were rudely interrupted, but he has his suspicions. And Len's suspicions are usually dead on. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Barry says, laughter fading. "Aside from a phenomenal case of blue balls, I think I'll be fine."

Len smiles, but not one of his smug, predatory grins. It's self-conscious, depreciating, bashful. He's blown away by Barry; that such a sincere, genuine man could fall head-over-heels for him, could want him the way that Barry wants him, with the passion that Barry has. What they have between them scorches, but it isn't solely physical. It never was just. But that physical attraction is there, and Barry feels free to act on it whenever they're in contact. Len has never had a relationship like that before; never been with someone who didn't, in some way, want something from him.

But Barry doesn't. All Barry wants is Len.

"Well, you can give blowing your wad another shot when you take a shower later. As long as you think of me when you do."

"I can't masturbate without you," Barry says. "It won't be half as good. I'll just have to wait till you call again." Barry sighs. It's the solemn exhale of a man who knows that time is growing short. Barry doesn't need to check his watch to know. He feels it now, the way Len feels it; something inside that marks times whenever they're together. "I miss you, Len."

"I miss you, too, Barry." Len fidgets with his gun in his lap, toying with a thought that's been bouncing around his brain. "Hey, next time I see you, I wanna take you out on a date."

"Really?" Barry flips the script, going from melancholy adult to sounding like an excited little kid, listening to his dad talk about plans to take him to his first major league baseball game. At least, that's how Len equates it. He wouldn't have any experience with that.

"Yeah," Len says, "really. And maybe we can even hang out with Iris, and that Eddie guy of hers."

"That would be…that would be great, but…are you sure?" Barry had expressed his regret once or twice that they couldn't be seen out together in Central City. Barry had hoped against hope that the Waverider would return in time for Len to join him on this trip to Baltimore (as far as Barry knew, Len wasn't wanted in Baltimore) but something of existential importance came up. Len couldn't talk about it. He'd tell Barry afterwards…as usual.

"Yeah. I'll have Ray help me come up with some kind of a disguise or something. I'll figure it out."

"Because that would mean a lot to me."

"I know it would." Len wants to feel proud about that, but it's hard when nearly all of his motivations are selfish. This isn't for Barry alone. In part, it's to help Len convince himself that he can do this. That he and Barry can be together as a normal(ish) couple. That Len can have a life outside of the Waverider and removed from the past.

That there's something he can lateral into when his stint as a hero is over.

"It would mean a lot to me, too," Len admits. He hears static over the line – an unwelcome indicator that it's time to go. "Look, Bare, we're going to be heading out of transmission range, so I'm going to be incommunicado for a while."

"I know," Barry says sadly.

"So, just…take care of you."

"Take care of you, too." Barry smiles so hard his cheeks hurt. It's the closest to I love you that they've gotten, but it'll do. The sentiment is there, wedged between the words. Barry can feel it.

Neither Len nor Barry hang up. The Waverider veers into position to travel through time, and the call cuts out on its own. Len should be getting to the bridge and taking his seat, but he needs a minute to switch gears. Jumping from his life with Barry to his life on the Waverider is more disorienting than leaping through time.

It also leaves a far more painful ache in every muscle of his body.

Len turns his communicator over in his hand, the sleek black skin of the faux phone designed to look like the latest technological marvel since the iPhone 7…but it's so much more. So much more to Len especially. It's a lifeline. Being able to only send dinky text messages to Barry every once in a blue moon had made Len edgy. Everyone with a loved one back in 2016 went through it, too. But when Len heard Ray coming up with this new little toy, Len didn't really give it a second thought. The man was always tinkering with something, usually updates to his own super suit – streamlining the bulky edges, tweaking the boosters, adding new weapons. Len had kept his opinions about Ray's attempts to make a phone-type communicator to himself because, secretly, he'd hoped that if the man succeeded, he could swipe a few. Len hates to admit it, but these God dammed things are a God send, not just for talking with Barry, but with his sister, too.

Len doesn't like being in debt to Ray Palmer, but at every turn, he finds that he is, at least three times over at last count. He'll have to find a way to repay him, even if the only thing he has to offer is watching Ray's back. In a way, Ray giving him these communicators on the sly, leaving them on his bunk and then not saying a thing about them, is affirming. It means that someone else believes in Len, too; in this relationship; and wants to see him happy.

Infuriatingly, if any one person on the Waverider is, it would be Ray Palmer.

"Mr. Snart, would you kindly make your way to the bridge? We would like to travel to our next destination now, if you don't mind."

Len smirks. He's never known a man who can communicate as much condescension in a single sentence as Rip Hunter, besides himself.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm comin'. Keep your knickers on." Len slides the communicator into his pocket and picks up his gun, both items bringing him an unrivaled sense of security. It'll probably only be around fifteen hours before he talks to Barry again. Ten before Gideon will be able to show Barry to him.

It won't be soon enough.