Chapter Text
8:00 pm
“Barry,” Iris hissed, “this is a wedding reception, not a wake, so could you at least try to look like you’re not being forcibly escorted to your own funeral?” She re-adjusted his bow tie for the third time since they’d left before turning to walk inside.
Barry couldn’t believe he’d let Iris and Eddie drag him here. Granted, it wasn’t like he’d had other plans- a fact that Iris had been quick to point out. It wasn’t her fault though, not really. Some wealthy philanthropist that she’d done a positive article on was getting married, and while the actual ceremony was close friends and family only, Melanie had been generous enough to invite her new favorite reporter. Said invite, to Barry’s dismay, had included Iris’s family and friends. And since Iris and “Mel” had become fast friends during the story, he had even more of a reason to go. In theory. Plus, the reception was being held at the Central City Museum of Art, and in Iris’s defense, a black tie party in a swanky gallery did sound more entertaining than his previous plans for tonight, which had consisted mainly of watching a marathon of old sci-fi movies.
He sighed and followed her up the marble stairs. It wasn’t that he hated weddings (and this, he reminded himself again, wasn’t even the actual wedding, only the reception), it was more that he couldn’t stand feeling like the odd man out. Everything with Iris was long past- in fact, she was meeting Eddie here, probably why she was in such a rush to get inside- and wedding guests tended to come in pairs. Romantic ones, specifically, and Barry was sorely lacking on that front. Not that he hadn’t tried, but his…extracurricular activities tended to put a damper on most relationships.
Though surely, he thought, pushing open the museum’s massive glass door, he couldn’t be the only guest going stag. Relationships may be hard, but one night stands? Well, he hadn’t really had many (any), but it could happen. He felt his mood improve slightly with this thought, and as he entered the reception hall, the rest of his misgivings seemed to disappear. The room was stunning, bone white walls dotted with colorful art, and expansive mirrored sections rising to a dizzyingly high ceiling where someone had painted a very realistic night sky. He couldn’t believe he’d spent his whole life in Central without seeing this part of the museum, but judging from the attire of his fellow guests, it was usually reserved for only the fanciest events- probably no one else could afford to book it.
Barry glanced around, scanning the crowd (larger than he’d expected, what sort of philanthropists were these people again?) for Iris and Eddie, but not spotting them. No matter, he told himself, he was an adult, an adult with a job, two jobs in fact, if you counted being a superhero, and he didn’t need someone to act as his social crutch at parties. He loved crowds, crowds were great, lots of nice….people.
To his annoyance he realized he was running his fingers through his hair, a nervous tic he was usually better about suppressing. Iris had insisted he put gel in it tonight, and it was doing some kind of upward-sideways swoosh that she assured him was fashionable. Though he might’ve just ruined it. His shoulders slumped. It probably looked stupid, he probably looked stupid, what was he even doing here, wearing this rented tux-
"Well, isn't this a surprise."
A chill ran up Barry's spine as he slowly turned. Surely not. It couldn't be, he couldn't be here. And yet, he found himself looking into a pair of very familiar blue eyes.
"Please tell me I’m not seeing Leonard Snart," he groaned.
"In the flesh," the other man smirked. God, when was he not smirking, was the guy even capable of a genuine smile?
"Are we doing full names now? I thought we'd gotten past that, Scarlet, but if you insist-"
Barry all but lunged forward. "Shh!" He grabbed the other man's arm and tried to force his grimace into some semblance of a smile. From the amused look on Snart's face, he hadn't been successful. "Not here, come on." He nodded his head towards an abandoned corner near the snack bar. Interestingly, Snart merely shrugged and let Barry lead him on.
Once there, Barry leaned in, to make doubly sure no one overheard. "Mind telling me what you're doing here, Cold?"
Snart practically grinned. "Mind telling me why you're still holding my arm, Flash?"
Barry flinched, dropping it like he'd been burned. He hadn’t realized.
"My my, dragging me off to dark corners already. I knew you were 'fast', but this-"
Barry tried very hard not to blush. The last thing he needed was for the other man to think he was getting to him. Sure, they might playfully banter during their fights, and sure, some of it might be considered a bit flirtatious, and sure, Barry may have had that one extremely vivid dream after the time Captain Cold had him pinned up against the wall of Central City Credit Union- but Snart couldn’t know that.
He cleared his throat. "Could you spare me the puns for like, five minutes? Cut the shit, why are you here."
Snart huffed. "Fine. Would you believe me if I said I knew the groom?"
"No."
"Believe it or not, we Rogues have friends too."
Barry let out an incredulous laugh. “Yeah, I’ve met some of them, if you’ll recall. Do your- do the guests know you’re Captain Cold?”
Snart glowered and stepped closer. “Gee, be a little louder. I don’t know Barry,” he said mockingly, imitating Barry’s tone, “do the guests know you’re The Flash? Would you like me to go around and ask them-”
“God, shut up, point taken. But seriously, your 'friend' just happens to be having his reception in a building full of priceless art? And invited you?"
"I'm sensing some suspicion here, and I don't appreciate it. What are you doing here, anyway?"
"I know the bride. Uh, sort of. Look, she's right over-"
He looked around in vain, realizing he wasn’t entirely certain what Melanie looked like, before turning to find himself staring at Snart's back as the other man made a beeline towards the snack table. Barry quickly followed.
"Oh no you don't, Snart. If you think I'm letting you out of my sight tonight you're clearly more delusional than you seem."
Cold shrugged and grabbed a plate. "First of all, Barry , if you’re planning to keep up this "low profile" thing, you should probably stick to calling me Len." He began filling his plate with cheese cubes. "Secondly, I plan on staying at this little shindig until the very end. Also, did I mishear you or are you volunteering to be my date?"
Barry spluttered. "Are you serious? They rented this place out until what, two in the morning? It’s barely eight!”
Len began piling the rest of his plate with crackers, seemingly nonplussed. "Mm, is it? I didn't hear a no in there, so I’ll assume we'll be sticking together." He gestured towards the table, which was piled high with an array of foods, some of which Barry couldn’t even begin to identify. Rich people, honestly.
"Want anything, sweetheart?” Len continued in an overly affected drawl, “or shall we share my plate?”
“Don't push your luck. And would- would you quit taking so much cheese? Leave some for other people.”
“Seriously? You can't prove that I'm actually up to anything here, so you're going to play cop at the all you can eat buffet? I don't think so. Have you looked around, these people can afford some extra cheese. Speaking of which," he squinted slightly at his plate, “I think these are crystal. Wouldn’t it be a shame if a few of them were to-”
Barry moved to snatch it from him, but Len just laughed, dodging him with ease before pretending to brush some dust off the shoulder of his tux. A part of Barry’s brain was a bit too interested in the fact that his nemesis was wearing a tux, which appeared to be much more expensive and professionally fitted than his own. Barry was pointedly ignoring this and an increasing number of other things, like what Leonard Snart sounded like when he genuinely laughed.
“Jesus kid, I was kidding. It’s plastic. You’re awfully tightly wound.”
"I'm not a kid!" Barry retorted, mostly on principle. "I'm twenty four, why does no one ever get that?"
Len shook his head. "Have you seen yourself lately? Here, I’ll help.” In one fluid movement he casually set his cheese plate on the edge of the table, grasped Barry’s shoulder with his free hand, and spun him around to face the mirrored wall behind them, resulting in his broad chest being pressed against Barry’s back.
Barry was too caught off guard to properly react, merely blinking in confusion as he stared at Len in the mirror. “See?” Len pointed at his face. “I wouldn’t be surprised if some of the bourgeoisie bastards in here start interrogating you about where you found the Fountain of Youth. By the way,” his mouth quirked up and suddenly his hand wasn’t on Barry’s shoulder anymore, it was running through his hair, “This is new. I like.” Barry couldn’t help it, a shudder ran through him, one that Len could definitely feel.
He pulled away and forced a laugh, wincing when he heard how shaky it sounded. “Oh, I, right. The hair. I didn’t actually, um-”
Mercifully, he was interrupted by a pointed throat clearing from a waiter who had appeared from seemingly out of nowhere to whisk the abandoned cheese and cracker plate away from it’s perch on the table. Len looked crestfallen.
Barry seized the opportunity for a quick escape. “I’ll be right back.” Len shrugged nonchalantly, making no move to stop him.
Of course he didn’t stop you, Barry reminded himself, you’re the one insisting on following him around all night. It wasn’t like Len could’ve known that Barry liked having his hair played with, or that the sensation apparently increased tenfold when his nemesis was the one doing the playing.
He shook his head, trying to clear his mind a little. This wasn’t how was the evening was supposed to go. He was supposed to have some fun, mingle, maybe meet a nice girl (or boy, Barry had never been picky in that regard, a fact which definitely wasn’t helping him with the Snart situation) to take home and- well, that sure didn’t look to be in the cards now.
If Len- no, Snart- no, Cold , shit, get it straight, was trying to distract him, it sure as hell seemed to be working, since Barry was currently edging around the horde of wedding guests- seriously, how many people could Melanie know?- in an attempt to get some air, simply from the other man touching him a few times. It had only been what, ten minutes? How was he supposed to keep this up all night? Clearly he needed to get laid...and clearly he needed to stop thinking about sex and Leonard Snart at the same time.
It wasn’t his fault the man looked so good in a suit. Nor was it his fault that he’d had that wall-pressing dream. Or the one after it. Or- he could feel his face reddening even further, and prayed he didn’t too closely resemble a tomato by this point. He settled uneasily by a row of chairs underneath a rather grotesque painting of a deer and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He hadn’t actually intended to use it for anything other than giving a façade of being busy, but he found himself greeted by a text from Iris, saying that Eddie had caught a pretty bad flu and hadn’t actually made it to the reception at all, so she had headed home to take care of him.
Barry groaned. Of course this would happen today, on a night that he had apparently vowed to spend the entirety of with a wanted criminal. Who he was now left completely alone with. Just him, Snart, and- he gave the room another once over- about 400 other people. “Some guys have all the luck,” he sighed.
8:30 pm
Well, there was no use avoiding it any longer, if he was going to make sure Snart didn’t steal anything he probably needed to actually be within sight of him. He made his way back across the room, avoiding a few overly enthusiastic party guests who had somehow already managed to take too much advantage of the open bar on the opposite side of the hall. For once, Barry didn’t mind that he couldn’t get drunk, since he’d need his wits about him if we was going to-
He froze. Of course, of course the corner by the snack table was now empty. He should’ve known better than to assume Len was just going to wait around patiently doing nothing while Barry wandered off and processed his feelings. Shit, where could he be? This museum was huge, he could be anywhere, stealing anything-
Barry scowled. Or, he could be otherwise occupied with whoever was wearing that red dress. It appeared that Len had gotten bored of waiting and had wandered off to the dance floor, where a large portion of the attendees were currently doing some sort of, waltz? Barry knew nothing about dances, but this one looked like the sort of thing that might happen at a high society wedding- and the woman Len was dancing with looked like she was wearing a considerable amount of jewelry.
From his spot on the edge of the dance floor, he could barely see them, but her neck was definitely wrapped in some kind of extremely sparkly necklace, with earrings and bracelets to match. If they would just, stop moving, maybe he could get a better look at what was going on. But the sea of couples seemed to be in no mood to oblige him, and Barry could only get brief glimpses as Len and the woman moved in and out of his line of sight. One moment his arm was around her slender waist, the next he bent his head toward her ear, whispering something. Barry’s blood boiled. He had to admit, they made a pretty picture. Len had taken the ‘black tie’ dress code more seriously than Barry would’ve expected, and was wearing an expensive looking red bowtie that he’d probably tied himself in some stupidly complicated knot, whereas Barry’s was a clip-on hastily bought from the corner store. But if Len thought he was going to wait around helplessly while Len casually pilfered the fortune of jewels that woman was wearing, he had another thing coming.
Len threw his head back in a laugh. Barry clenched his teeth. That did it. He stepped forward and was instantly engulfed in the tide of people. The sudden swell of orchestral music as the song changed combined with the whirling of a hundred different floor length dresses was almost overwhelming, and he had to keep moving to avoid bumping into anyone. He craned his neck, searching for where Len might’ve danced off to. A flash of red caught his eye, and he moved towards it. Len had his back to him, but the woman’s eyes widened in confusion as Barry approached. He coughed meaningfully, but Len kept his back to him. Fine, if he wanted to do this the hard way, so be it.
Barry sidled up to Len and summoned his most charming smile. “May I cut in?”
Len’s expression could best be described as shocked, but to Barry’s annoyance it quickly changed to one of delight. “Darling!” he crooned, dropping the woman’s hand, “I was wondering where you’d gotten off to.” Barry fought to keep a straight face. Were they really going to-?
The woman looked like she was about to say something and Barry for one didn’t want to dig himself any deeper into this pit while she was around. He gave her a polite nod before stepping between her and Len, who shot her a fake-innocent ‘What can you do?’ look before switching his full attention to Barry. Len’s lips curled up as though he was about to say something witty, but Barry wasn’t about to let him get the drop on him again, and quickly wrapped one arm around his waist, pulling him closer and joining their free hands together.
He heard a huff behind them, and the sound of heels clacking against the marble floor as Red Dress stormed off, leaving him face to face with Len in the middle of the crowded dance floor- and in the middle of, he was quickly reminded as another couple gave them a strange look, an actual dance. Len must’ve seen the panicked look on his face as this realization hit and taken pity, because with a slight tug on his arm Barry found himself being led in a simple ‘step and sway’ motion. It wasn’t the actual dance, but it didn’t feel as conspicuous as standing still.
The other man leaned in a bit so as to be heard over the music. “Not that I mind, but can I ask where you’re going with this? You’re looking a bit deer in the headlights here.”
“That woman you were with-”
“Ah, and here I didn’t take you for the jealous type.”
“What? No, I meant she was wearing an awful lot of jewelry. I wasn’t gonna let you try and take it.”
Len arched an eyebrow. “First of all, I’m insulted at your use of ‘try’. If I want something, it’s mine,” His eyes darted down for the briefest moment. “Usually. Second of all, I’m not about to rob someone at an event I plan to stay at for awhile. And third,” his free hand moved slightly lower on Barry’s back, “if you wanted to dance with me, all you had to do was ask. Though it might help if you actually knew the steps.”
Barry couldn’t keep a slight look of embarrassment from crossing his face, but the deluge of mockery he was bracing himself for never came. Instead, Len reached around and moved Barry’s hand from it’s place on his back up to his shoulder, then rejoined their other hands. “Here, follow my lead.” He nodded his head toward the couple next to them. “Watch them for a second. See their feet? This is a waltz, so you really only need the one basic movement.” He stepped backward, and Barry automatically moved forward to fill the space. “Good, just do what I do, but in reverse, if that makes sense.” Barry felt Len’s grip on his hand tighten slightly for a moment. Was he, actually trying to be encouraging?
The thought was distracting enough that he found himself slipping out of the movement. Len cleared his throat slightly. “Other foot. Yeah, the left, it’s just a square.” They repeated the steps a couple more times, and Barry began to feel a bit more confident. Unfortunately, the orchestra chose that moment to switch songs to one with a slightly different tempo.
Len seemed to sense his discomfort. “This one’s more of a foxtrot pace, but fuck ‘em, keep waltzing.”
“Why are you being so helpful?”
“Is the goodness of my heart not enough? You’re so fond of telling me about it.”
“Yeah, I’m starting to think I might change my mind about that by the end of the night.” At this, he thought he saw the corner of Len’s mouth twitch slightly, as though he was trying not to smile.
Barry had initially been worried about bumping into one of the myriad of other couples dancing near them, but Len seemed to be a natural at avoiding potential awkward run-ins. Anytime they got too near someone else, Barry would feel a slight pressure on the small of his back as Len guided them away, and soon he found himself relaxing, feet moving almost automatically as he lost himself in the sound of the music and the low murmur of the crowd. He tried to scan the reception tables that littered the edges of the room to see if one might have the wedding cake (what, a man had to eat), but that resulted in a swift onset of dizziness. He faltered a bit and found himself stumbling even closer to Len, who gave him an odd look but otherwise didn’t seem too phased.
“Sorry. My head started spinning a little.”
Len squeezed his hand slightly. “I do tend to have that effect on people.”
Barry muttered an insult, but without much heat.
“If you’re still questioning my motives here, I do actually know some of these people, and I have somewhat of a reputation to uphold. What kind of a Rogue would I be if I didn’t sweep the occasional bright eyed young society man off his feet?”
“Sorry to spoil your plan there, but I don’t know that I pass for a ‘high society’ guy.”
Len looked him up and down, lingering a bit too long, and Barry fought to keep from blushing again. “Could’ve fooled me.”
“Well, I definitely can’t dance like one.”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself kid, I didn’t even have to do much teaching; you picked it up in a flash .”
Barry narrowed his eyes, then moved his foot slightly too far forward and jammed it down onto Len’s. The other man winced.
“Make another Flash joke, Snart, and I won’t be held responsible for my actions.”
“Step on my foot again, Allen , and I won’t be held responsible for deciding to keep you on the dance floor the whole damn night.”
At this, Barry couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “Did you seriously just threaten to dance with me all night?”
Len’s lips quirked slightly. “From the looks you’re getting, I don’t think the guests would mind.”
“They’re probably just scandalized at seeing two men ballroom dancing.”
“Oh please, it’s 2017. You can’t pull that card to get out of a compliment.” His fingers flexed slightly against Barry’s back, and Barry was suddenly conscious of just how close they were standing.
He coughed slightly. “Uh, so. How’d a guy like you pick this up anyway? Fancy dancing, I mean.”
“ ‘Fancy dancing’? Clearly I’ll have to shoulder the burden of being the more cultured member of our relationship.”
Barry glowered, and Len paused for a minute before speaking again.
“Fine, if you actually want to know. Lisa went through a regency novel phase and got it into her head that she wanted to learn some of the dances they did at the balls. Naturally, she needed a partner, and yours truly was the only one willing to indulge her. And once- why are you looking at me like that?”
“That might be the most adorable thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Don’t push your luck, Scarlet.”
9:00 pm
Once waltzing got too repetitive, Len managed to teach him the basics of the Foxtrot. They had given up on trying to Tango, since Barry kept laughing at how serious Len looked, and Len kept threatening to drop Barry during one of the dips if he kept it up. After a while the orchestra lowered their volume and began to play what was clearly meant to be background music for socializing. Barry figured this was his cue to scout out the wedding cake, and he joined the other guests in their exodus from the dance floor.
He made it halfway across the room before realizing he hadn’t bothered to let go of Len’s hand. Len seemed to realize it just then too, and quickly disentangled their fingers. “I’m gonna get some food.”
Barry tried to ignore his slight disappointment at the loss of the reassuring pressure, and followed Len out of the dance area back over to the snack table. Len looked extremely unsurprised to see him when he reached it.
“So. You’re really not going to leave me alone here, huh.”
Barry shook his head and grinned. “Nope. I can honestly say I have nothing better to do tonight.”
“I’ll try to ignore how sad that is. Well, if this is really how you want to spend the remainder of the evening, far be it from me to crush your dream. But tonight’s my night off, and-”
Barry barked a laugh. “Oh, that’s rich, your night off from what? Crime?”
Len ignored him. “ And I’m planning to cut loose. Let’s see if you can keep up.” He winked, then turned his attention back to the buffet.
Barry resisted the urge to sigh. It was going to be a long night.