Chapter Text
It’s cold outside, but it feels refreshing, crisp to breathe after all that perfume, cologne and stale air.
They manage to drive a few blocks back to Snart’s safe house – number three, if Barry’s not mistaken, not that he keeps count. Normally he probably would’ve appreciated it more, but now, he’s just pissed.
The moment they’re inside the apartment, he explodes.
“Okay, spill. What the hell was that? I mean, he totally ambushed us, and then – what? You just agreed to give him a painting? No, you agreed to give him two! How the hell does that work? What the hell did that accomplish? What the hell were you even searching in his office? Plus, he saw my face, and he talked about some weird stuff, and what the hell was that?”
Snart fixes him a flatly annoyed look as he’s pouring himself a drink of something that looks suspiciously like whisky.
“Are you finished?” he drawls dryly, and Barry feels completely justified to glare him.
“Not even close, ‘cause that? That sucked. No buffet table is worth all that. I think my blood pressure’s gone through the roof.”
Snart rolls his eyes. “You’re fine. And I wouldn’t worry about Burkhart seeing you – he has no physical evidence, no photographic memory, bad eyesight, the room was poorly lit and none of cameras work…remember? Something you managed to sabotage all by yourself, so pat yourself in the back. Nicely done.”
Barry flushes in anger. “You don’t get to be all evasive on me. You didn’t tell me why we were there. Was this a revenge?”
Snart hums and taps the glass against his chin thoughtfully. “He’s…very interested in the paintings I stole a while ago. Rare artwork, very nice landscapes. Good for open spaces. He, on the other hand, doesn’t play well with competition, so he interfered with my heist.”
“So – this – this whole thing was over – over some paintings?”
“No, over some principles, Barry. I told you, it’s dirty business, and I’m not gonna suck up to him, let him walk all over me and dictate what I can steal. But as it happens, he can be petty.”
“Oh, he can be petty? I can’t believe this – “
“I evened the odds, which I was right about since he decided to take some initiative. Now I’ve got the upper hand since we weren’t the only ones causing mischief in that party, he’s gonna have his hands full.”
“And what if he just – oh, I dunno, just plans to kill you nonetheless?”
Snart stops, and smiles. It’s not a pleasant smile; it’s razor blade- like, sharp, bleeding. “Are you worried, Barry?”
“No, I just don’t want my efforts going to waste”, Barry snaps back.
“Hmm… while you were doing your little – sabotage, I was doing a little…digging in his room. His personal laptop, for example.” His pale eyes move to Barry’s. “I have a lot of dirt on Burkhart.”
“Like…like what?”
“Like records of his operations, deals, business partners, mistresses, etc. He’s not gonna try anything if he wants to enjoy his luxurious life style.”
Barry stares.
And stares.
And stares.
“You – “ He chokes, shakes his head, feels all fight leave him. He’s just tired. “You are an asshole, Snart.”
Snart isn’t offended, he just shrugs. The thin, fine lines around his eyes seem to deepen. Maybe the night is getting to him as well. “Never claimed otherwise, Scarlet. Didn’t kill anyone, though. Just so you know.”
Barry rubs his face, pinches the bridge of his nose and just sags onto Snart’s couch. He lies down, stares at the ceiling. He’s just so tired.
Snart doesn’t apparently expect him to answer, because he turns and washes the glass in the sink.
The pipes gurgle. It’s quiet, in a familiar, calming way.
There’s still something that rings in Barry’s ears. Something that –
He hesitates. “Snart?”
“What is it, Barry.”
Barry swallows, his mouth feels suddenly very dry, and he’s kind of glad he’s already lying down.
“He – told me you were watching me more than I was watching you. Like, our roles were… reversed.” A pause. “What did he mean?”
Barry feels stupid, telling Snart this, he probably heard anyway, but he – he wants to know, he has to, it’s important, he –
Silence.
Barry’s heart beat quickens.
“Snart?”
He gets up and tentatively approaches Snart, who still has his back on him. Swallowing thickly, nervously, Barry stops just few steps away and looks at him. Looks at Snart, and something squeezes painfully in his chest.
“What did he mean?”
Snart’s frozen. His hands grip the sink so hard his knuckles have turned white. The silence is suffocating; tanglening in Barry’s guts, reaching into his throat. His heart pounds so hard he feels like he’s cracking open.
“You should run along, Red”, Snart grunts.
“No. No way. You’re not driving me away, not with this. Please?” Barry doesn’t care if he’s begging; he can feel this digging into his bones, this burning, biting thing that’s been –
Snart turns so quickly he nearly collides with Barry, who instinctively moves slightly back to give him space. His dark, pale blue eyes bore into his, scathing, defensive.
“You’re not giving up, are you?” he snorts.
“I’d like to hear the truth. For – for once tonight. Okay?”
“Nemesis, Barry, you should know better than to trust crooks.”
“I trust you. And you trusted me enough to watch your back.”
Snart’s eyebrows knit together into a hard scowl. “Like I said – was short on options”, he drawls, but there’s an edge. This is painfully familiar ground, for both of them, like when Lewis had blackmailed him with Lisa’s life.
Barry takes a hesitating step forward, looks at Snart and swallows thickly.
“You’re playing a dangerous game, Barry. Ever thought you might not like the answer?” Snart drones, but keeps his gaze fixed on Barry, gauging him.
“I think that’s my choice. My decision?” Barry asks with a shaky, gentle smile. Snart’s throat muscles twitch, like he has trouble swallowing.
Inside, Barry is terrified.
He has no idea what he’s doing, he could potentially destroy everything, their unusual, strange, amazing – relationship? Friendship? But they’ve been through so much together – saving each other, gritting their teeth through it all in frustration, snarking, yet understanding each other through turmoils and pain and trust, it’s not –
Barry’s breathing grows slightly more shallow, erratic.
“I needed you to be quick on your feet unless someone got some fancy ideas to sink a knife into my throat. Didn’t think it through”, Snart says through gnashed teeth, his tone clipped.
“Why?”
Snart bites the inside of his cheek and glances away from Barry. “Should’ve realized you couldn’t pull the show off.”
Oh.
Barry’s careful not to let it show, but it stings. Hurts. Cracks inside his bones, jagged. He really tried. He really tried to be helpful. He really wanted to help Snart.
“Shouldn’t have taken you there”, Snart grunts. “Too good for a place like that.”
Barry’s brain hits a blank note, and he stutters: “But – uh, I tried, okay, I even glared at people who tried to – I mean, I didn’t who wanted to stab you, could be all of them, but…”
“Your effort was appreciated”, Snart remarks wryly. “Didn’t really expect Burkhart to be direct. Dirtying his own little mittens.”
“Well, I don’t think he’s gonna remember some lanky guy who just rambled some stuff?”
“Not the point, Barry.”
“Oh, okay.”
Snart grits his molars together. “The point being that Burkhart wasn’t wrong about them being hungry beasts. They smell fresh blood in the water, and oh, they just love going for the kill.”
“Meaning – me, I guess?”
“Apparently my poker face needs some polishing”, Snart says gruffly. “So, no, I’m not letting a bunch of second-rate thugs try their luck with you.”
Barry shivers; this time, it creates an exciting, sweet tingle, prickling in the pit of his guts. “And they don’t think – I dunno, a bodyguard can handle a few gropes?”
“Oh, now you embrace your role, then, huh, Barry?” Snart says with a hint of dry amusement. “Aren’t you adorable.”
“Hey, now, I can handle unwanted attention, okay? Not the first time, either.”
“But you were in the middle of crooks and criminals and murderers. Had to step in to avoid a…disaster.”
Barry gazes at him, at Snart’s carefully constructed expression; and he’s right, it’s not as good as it is usually; it’s thin, unravelling.
Spell it out for me. Say it, please. Tell me why.
“Just ‘cause of that?” Barry asks quietly, watching him. “Snart. Leonard.”
Instantly Snart’s posture snaps straighter, like steel pulling his spine into line, and his eyes burn through Barry’s skull. But Barry’s not backing down; he stares back bravely, his lips trembling.
He can see Snart’s jaw clench tightly together. Silence returns, strangling, heavy, no, I shouldn’t have pushed, why did I push – I was wrong –
It’s just few inches between them, their breathing minglening; their gazes locked under hooded eyes, electricity is tangible in the air –
“Didn’t fancy of them touching you”, Snart says roughly, barely moving his lips, his voice just a low grunt. “Didn’t like seeing you on the other end of Burkhart’s gun, either.”
Barry swallows. “Any reason for that?” he whispers back.
Snart doesn’t answer. He’s so close; Barry can feel his warmth soaking through the tuxedo shirt, energy buzzes in Barry’s bones, making him tremble. Snart tracks him with his eyes, unblinking, tense, waiting.
Barry stops. Wait.
Snart’s waiting for him?
Hesitating, he steps closer; Snart’s eyes narrow slightly, but he doesn’t move away, doesn’t budge, he just angles his head, and Barry’s nearly tearing himself in half with all of the raw longing of him, of Leonard, and it itches under his nails.
“Are you – are you gonna stop me?” Barry asks breathlessly. His fingers twitch as they move to rest on Snart’s chest.
“Depends”, Snart murmurs back, and Barry can almost taste the words rather than hear them.
“On what?”
Snart kisses him.
It’s just a brush against lips, slow, tentative, almost chaste, but the sound Barry makes, is wrenched from his throat. Snart withdraws sharply to gaze if he’s stepped over a line, but Barry stares back, dizzy –
It takes a second.
Their mouths crash against each other, in open-mouthed, messy, fervent in all pent-up passion and tension that’s been coiling in their muscles all evening, all these weeks, months, years.
Barry lets out a relieved sob and clings onto him, their bodies pressed against each other. Snart feels blissfully solid and warm under his hands, safe safe, against all reason Barry feels so safe –
Snart deepens the kiss, licking into Barry’s mouth, their tongues sliding against each other, and white-hot desire burn in Barry’s core, this is so delightfully right, yes, give me, Leonard – Len –
Lack of air forces them to part, ever so slightly, and Barry chases blindly Snart’s mouth, desperate, but stupidly happy. He’s still clutching Snart’s front.
“My, my, my, Barry… “ Snart says, and his voice is deliciously rough, low with all gravel and lazily drawn vowels. Barry could’ve been fooled by his tone, but the way his eyes burn dark with arousal doesn’t leave much for imagination.
“A – are you on board with this?” Barry gasps. They’re so close their breathing’s minglening. “’Cause I – I’m very much on board with this.”
Snart hums. “Really. I might be persuaded.” His hand sneaks around Barry’s waist and pulls him close. His hands rest firm on Barry, so warm. Barry gazes at him and whispers:
“Kiss me again.”
Snart’s eyes darken, grow heavy, burning, and with a swift move, he’s pinned Barry against the counter and kisses him hard enough to make their teeth clash. It scalds beneath Barry’s skin, he can’t have enough, Snart slips his hands under Barry’s shirt and yes, skin, skin contact, it feels so good, he can feel every callous on Snart…
Closer –
Come closer –
He angles his head so Snart has a better access, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by the man, either – Snart makes a deep, growling noise in the back of his throat and presses scorching kisses down Barry’s neck, like he’s determined to devour him.
Barry arches into Snart, his hands grasping Snart’s neck, trying to anchor him.
“Leonard – Len – “
Snart pauses and pulls back and gazes into Barry’s eyes, watching him closely, like he can’t believe, like he’s burning every passing second of this into his memory.
Both of them, out of breath, just stare at each other – this moment feels huge, monumental between them, breaking loose from the very seams, something that they’ve both wanted, so much, so desperately, it’s now bare in front of them, allowed to them.
“I’m afraid you have to try a little harder than that to get me to bed, Red”, Snart finally says, and Barry’s stupidly pleased to hear how haggard, husky he sounds.
Barry beams at him, breathless and unbelievably giddy, his thumbs stroking gentle circles on the back of Snart’s neck.
“Yeah?” he asks and hums in contentment as Snart pats his sides. It feels nice. Intimate. “It’s okay. But if I gotta play a bodyguard again, I think I’m gonna pass. No offense.”
He snorts. “Don’t worry, wasn’t gonna suggest. Better keep you un-stabbed, as it were.”
“Pfft, with the friends you keep, yeah, sure. I kinda liked their food, though.”
“Dinner, then?”
Snart’s expression doesn’t change, it’s still challenging, cocky in the way that’s so infuriatingly familiar.
Barry gapes.
“You’re asking - ?” Okay. Holy shit. He can do this. He can totally do this. “Uh, sure? I mean, I’m kinda hungry.”
”The least I can do for making you suffer at a classy party.”
“Pfft, you’re a liar, it wasn’t classy. You don’t even think it was classy. It was kinda gaudy. Besides, no one even licked their knives.”
“Sorry to disappoint you.”
Barry laughs; it bubbles out of his chest, free and stupid and alive. “I’m not disappointed. Terrified, yeah, ‘cause did you see all those people? Yeah, no. But not disappointed. Although I kinda wanted to kick your ass.”
“Can hardly blame you for that. Sorry. For lying.”
“Yeah, that’s why you’re paying.”
Snart frowns, moves his head a little sharply as if he’s startled, surprised, but Barry just smiles softly, gently. He grins and presses a kiss on Snart’s mouth. Snart doesn’t freeze, but he slowly relaxes, melts against Barry, closes his eyes and kisses back slowly, lazily, like he’s determined to enjoy every passing second.
“Was that okay?” Barry whispers and nudges him slightly with his nose.
“Never could stay away from the danger, huh, Barry?” he drawls, but there’s a wry, playful quirk tugging his lips.
“Depends on the danger, I guess”, Barry murmurs.
“Got you, did I?”
“With those puns and the fluffy parka and being insufferably smug like I can see you are right now, I can see it on your face! Can’t imagine how the hell that happened”, Barry says, but he’s grinning, his dimples blooming in sight.
Snart hums, and his gaze is so bare, without ice, without glacier, calculating glint, it’s bare, all there for Barry to see.
“Vices and all, Barry”, he says, his hard edges softening into something almost affectionate. “Now, how about that dinner?”
“I think it’s more like late night snack. I’m game?”
“Fine. Let’s go.”
They end up getting burgers for some weird reason, but this is happening, and Barry is so on board with this – whatever it is.
+