Chapter Text
The first time that Barry stumbled into a Rogues meeting had been an accident. He’d been tracking down Snart, looking for his help on a particularly bad case that he was struggling with — something that he’d been doing more often than not these days… to Team Flash’s disapproval.
Of course, Barry had found Snart inside Saints and Sinners, leaning against the bar as he waited to be handed his beer. What he hadn’t noticed at the time, though — and yeah… maybe Oliver had a point about how he should be casing his environment more before making a move — was that the bar was suspiciously lacking in customers for a Thursday night. The only other patrons there were the table of metahumans, sitting and awaiting Snart’s return.
So, when Barry entered the bar and didn’t hesitate before striding confidently up to his side… well, people noticed.
“Get lost, Kid,” Snart grunted, not turning to look his way. Barry was admittedly surprised by that reaction: Snart had often been a tad hostile in their negotiations in the past, in an attempt to gain and keep the upper hand, but he’d never been so abrupt and dismissive before. He’d always heard Barry out. Even when he’d been up against Lewis.
The sudden change in approach put Barry on red alert. In hindsight, maybe he should have put together what was going on around him. But at the time, all Barry had thought about was making sure that Snart was okay. He hesitated for a second, figuring that Captain Cold was the kind of guy who usually avoided physical contact, before placing his hand atop Snart’s forearm — his movements slow and careful enough to allow the criminal to pull away if he wanted to.
“What’s going on?” Barry implored, the reason he’d come here in the first place temporarily forgotten as he waited to see what had made Snart act so, for the lack of another word, cold. Snart didn’t visibly tense at Barry’s touch, but he did grit his teeth. A second later, he was purposefully pulling his arm out from under Barry as he moved to grab the beer that the bartender had settled down in front of them.
“Barry… you have no idea what you just walked into,” he warned. “I suggest you leave before-”
“Lenny!”
Too late.
Barry felt his eyes widen and his jaw drop as he heard the click of heels on the hardwood floor to signal Lisa Snart approaching them. He recovered his expression as best as he could before dropping his eyes to the bar beneath his fingers and hoping to go unnoticed. But he knew it was too late for that now, even before Lisa stationed herself between them and draped her arm over the back of Barry’s stool.
“Who’s your cute friend?” she asked, looking Barry up and down, her lips twisted into an unnerving grin.
“I’m…” Barry opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, trying desperately to recall a name. What was it that he’d said to Snart’s father? Did it begin with an S? Fuck. He’d had the chance to prepare a backstory the last time he’d done this, but tonight Barry hadn’t anticipated anyone else being there and was left gaping, his mind filled with nothing but a glaring white noise that threatened to give him a migraine. And now this was definitely taking too long. Lisa was going to get suspicious. Forget the story that he’d come up with before; it wasn’t important, anyway. Any name would do. Anything other than… “Barry,” he eventually said, and instantly felt like facepalming.
He was such an idiot.
“Barry,” Lisa said, nodding. “Nice to meet you. I’m Lisa.”
“Right, uh, yeah,” Barry stumbled, his face was burning hot. He cast a glance over to Snart, seeing the tense and calculating way he watched the interaction play out. “Lenny’s told me a lot about you,” Barry said, thinking it was a safe bet. If the way that Snart’s face shifted was any measure — his eyes narrowed, jaw locked tight — Barry had royally fucked up.
“Oh, did he now?” Lisa purred, her gaze finally leaving Barry’s face to smirk at Snart instead. Returning a second later with a spark of mischief in her eyes. “You and my brother must be very close,” she said, and Barry was instantly shaking his head.
“No, no, not really,” Barry insisted. “We’re just… drinking buddies,” Barry continued, not sure of any other explanation — apart from the inconvenient truth — for why he would know Leonard Snart. And if Snart talking about his sister was a rare occurrence, then this would cover it, right? People let all kinds of information spill once they’d got a drink or two in them. Plus, it would explain why Barry would know to look for Snart here, a bar of all places. Barry was quite happy with his impromptu lie, actually. That was until he saw the way that Snart's eyes rolled upwards as though he was praying for God to strike him down. And as brief as the look had been, Barry knew then that he was just digging himself into a bigger and bigger hole.
“Oh, well, if that’s the case,” Lisa grinned. “You should join us!”
“Barry was just leaving,” Snart finally cut in, his voice firm and to the point, leaving no room for argument.
“Nonsense,” Lisa objected, not caring for her brother’s orders as she hooked her arm around Barry’s and half-dragged him off the stool and towards a table at the back of the bar. A table already surrounded by — oh… oh, no.
This was not good.
Barry’s feet stumbled as he gave a half-aborted attempt to stop, but Lisa just kept on going. And if she’d noticed Barry’s hesitation, then she didn’t say anything as she plonked him down on a seat near the head of the table, right next to Weather Wizard.
And he was far from the only meta that the Flash had locked away sitting at this table.
“Everyone, this is Barry,” Lisa introduced, her voice far too sweet. “Barry, this is Mark, Shawna, Hartley, Axel,” Lisa said, gesturing down the table at each villain as she went. “James, Roy, Rosa, Sam.” Sam! That was the name Barry had used before. Well, he supposed it was too late for that now… “And I’m assuming you know about Mickey here already,” Lisa finished, having worked her way back up to the top of the table again. She waved her hand towards where Mick Rory sat opposite Barry, glaring him down.
God help him, Barry was going to die tonight. He was sure of it.
“Don’t I know you?” Mark Mardon asked, eying Barry, and Barry thought that he might just throw up.
“No,” Snart said, appearing beside Barry and taking the last seat at the head of the table. He used the same tone of voice as he had done earlier, commanding and leaving no room for argument or question. It worked much better on Mardon than it had on Lisa.
The atmosphere at the table was tense, everyone’s eyes were on him, and Barry was giving his best effort at a smile. Though, he suspected it was very unconvincing by the way that Lisa grinned at him before she stalked around the table towards Mick, pushing his arm out of the way and sitting down across his lap. Barry just blinked at her. The way she did it was so casual, as though she didn’t have a care in the world about the fact that she was sitting on Heatwave’s lap. Apparently, she didn’t. She even swiped the glass from his hand and took a swig of his drink, only earning herself a grunt and half-hearted glare from the man in return.
Snart relaxed a little more, avoiding looking straight at Barry, though Barry was having a hard time looking anywhere else, feeling anxious whenever he accidentally made eye contact with any of the other criminals around the table. Snart, at least, was the closest thing to a friend that Barry had in this room.
Another awkward second passed, then Snart raised his beer bottle in a toast, and everyone else at the table lifted their own drinks.
“To the Rogues,” Snart said, and his team echoed the statement. He sent Barry a quick wink, so fast that Barry almost didn’t see it, as he brought his bottle to his mouth. Barry wished to God that he had a drink too, if only because it would give him something to do.
“Fuck the Flash!” Lisa cheered, having stolen Mick’s drink again, gaining a ‘here, here’ from James Jesse at the other end of the table along with a whoop of support from Shawna. Snart didn’t look at Barry this time, but he was smirking, even with the bottle still pressed to his lips.
The tension at the table seemed to break then, as though they had been waiting for Snart’s signal. The members of Snart’s Rogues began talking, and laughing, and slouching in their seats. And Barry relaxed a fraction. It wasn’t a planning session, it seemed. More of an after-party. A team hangout rather than a meeting… Maybe that was why Snart let him stay? Sure, Barry had kind of dug them into a bit of a hole just now, but he was sure that Snart could have found a way out of it if he’d tried. Instead… well, he actually seemed to be enjoying Barry’s discomfort. That bastard.
“So, Barry,” Lisa began, still sitting comfortably in Mick’s lap, though she had given him his drink back now. “How long have you known my brother for, exactly?” Oh, God, why did she keep asking him questions?!
“Exactly? Oh, I don’t know,” Barry brushed off, smiling politely. The truth was they’d known each other now for a little over 2 years, but the truth was awfully complicated. “How long would you say, Lenny?” Barry deflected.
“A few months,” Snart shrugged after sending him a brief look, which Barry didn’t have the slightest clue for how to decode. It probably was just some way of telling him that he was an idiot, which, yes, okay, he already knew that.
He turned back to the others at the table, noticing the way that so many of the Rogues were openly staring at him as though he were some sort of carnival attraction. It made Barry’s skin crawl. Was it really so strange for Snart to have friends outside of the Rogues? Or maybe it had more to do with how Barry looked? He hadn’t bothered changing when he’d shown up tonight, so he was still wearing the same sweater vest and skinny jeans combo that he'd had on all day at work. He supposed that a hardened criminal like Leonard Snart didn’t usually associate himself with anyone who looked like they could teach in a primary school — as Iris so frequently liked to point out whenever she took Barry shopping with her.
“Hey, Snart?” Sam Scudder called, gaining Cold’s attention. Snart gave Barry and Lisa one more glance before standing up and moving around the table to huddle closer to Scudder and Rosa Dillon and hear whatever they had to say. Barry would have been relieved about that if it didn’t mean he was suddenly left wide open for attack from Lisa, who was still staring him down. Barry honest to God gulped, but he was rescued from any further onslaught by none other than Shawna Baez, who was leaning onto the table and around Mark to look at Barry.
“Only a few months and already at the table, huh?” she said. “So, what do you do, Barry?”
“I, uh, I’m a scientist,” Barry said, hedging around the truth. He had a feeling that no one at this table would take too kindly to finding out what Barry’s real jobs were.
“She means your powers,” Mardon said, making Barry tense. “What do you do?”
“Oh, I’m… no, I don’t have any.”
“A regular mundane, huh?” Hartley said from where he had apparently been eavesdropping.
“Thought Snart would have more taste,” Mardon added, and Barry frowned, not entirely sure what he was getting at but feeling vaguely offended all the same. “Like he’s playing D&D and still only chose a human/fighter.”
“Hey!” Lisa interjected, sounding a little insulted.
Mick, on the other hand, barked out a laugh, loud and somewhat startling. “Guess someone should have picked artificer like I did.”
“I wanted a sword!”
“Gun’s better.”
Barry just blinked silently at them for a moment; watching Lisa Snart and Mick Rory argue about… D&D classes? That just about blew his mind. Did the Rogues have D&D nights?
He was never telling Cisco about this.
After a moment, Mick's smug look faded, and he turned back to Mardon. “Us ‘mundanes’ don’t rely on powers to do our jobs,” he said. “You’d be wise to remember that, Weather Boy.” Mark raised his hands in surrender, smiling wide to show that his earlier jokes had been just that, and Mick huffed a laugh before draining the last of his drink. Barry really wished he had a drink of his own at this point. And, as though reading his thoughts, Leonard returned to his seat brandishing a second bottle of beer, which he placed down on the table next to Barry’s hand.
Barry smiled up at him and nodded his thanks. The beer wouldn’t do him any good, of course: Barry couldn’t get drunk off regular alcohol. But Snart wouldn’t know that, and it was a nice gesture. It would do Barry good to have something to occupy his hands with, anyway.
Some of the Rogues had dispersed from around the table, and so Lisa scooched off Mick’s lap to take Scudder’s empty seat, all the while complaining that Lenny hadn’t brought her a drink. Barry took Mick’s empty glass and poured some of his own beer into it, pushing the tumbler Lisa’s way.
“Such a gentleman,” Lisa said, nodding her approval.
“Snart,” Mick said, voice lowered slightly. Not to a whisper, but miles quieter than his usually booming voice. “What’d Scudder want?”
“Same old, same old,” Cold shrugged off, though even Barry could read the ‘I’ll fill you in later’ written in his eyes. It wasn’t surprising, though; of course, he would want to keep as much of the Rogues business out of Barry’s earshot as he could. Still… something was bothering him about the short exchange, and it took far too long for Barry to place what it was. Mick had called him ‘Snart’.
In fact, everyone had called him ‘Snart’. It soon dawned on Barry that the only person who ever called him ‘Lenny’ was Lisa…
And now Barry, apparently.
So that was why Lisa had thought he and Snart were such close friends… why she’d invited him to join them… why she was so damn curious about Barry…
Well, this would have been good information to have been given sooner. Maybe if he’d known, he wouldn’t have got himself stuck in this situation in the first place.
Barry took a big gulp from his beer, wishing to God that it could have some sort of effect on him. Obviously, his prayers went unanswered.
“So, Barry,” Lisa purred, leaning forward and resting her elbows on the table as she grinned over at him. Barry really did not like that smile… “How did you meet my brother?” she asked. Barry expected that the truth — how he’d pulled Snart out of an armoured van in an attempt to stop him from stealing a priceless diamond — wouldn’t sit well with anyone at this table.
“At a bar,” Barry said quickly, the first reasonable explanation to pop into his head. And, well… in for a penny, in for a pound, after all; he'd already told Lisa that they were drinking buddies, so he may as well stick with it.
“Oh, come on, there has to be more to the story than that,” Shawna prodded, and Barry looked to Snart for his help, but Leonard just smirked back at him, one eyebrow raised in a challenge. He looked far too amused by the whole conversation… So, it didn’t seem as though Barry was going to be getting any help from him.
Well, fine. If Snart wanted to play it this way, then he was about to find out that Barry could play dirty, too.
“It was quiz night down on that karaoke bar on 5th street,” Barry started, laughing to himself when he noticed Snart’s eyes narrow in a warning. “And I think Lenny here got just a little too drunk off of the open tab he’d won, ended up grabbing the mic and singing… what was it? Ice Ice Baby? Yeah, that was it,” Barry nodded to himself, grinning as he turned back to Shawna. “Anyway, somebody had to take care of him. If only to stop him from following it up with a rendition of Smooth Criminal.”
The table fell entirely quiet. And Barry could feel Snart staring daggers into the back of his head. But, if he hadn’t wanted Barry to make up such a preposterous story, then he shouldn’t have enjoyed watching him squirm so much, should he?
The silence ticked on for a little longer before being suddenly cut by Mick Rory’s booming laugh. Then the entire table erupted into fits of giggles and full-bodied laughter — all except for Leonard.
“Yes, well, I have nothing on Barry here,” Leonard drawled once it began to die down. “You should see some of the videos from back in his show choir days.” Barry’s smile dropped instantly, his face paling… how on earth did Snart know about that?! “They’re fantastic.”
“At least I don’t wear Flash themed boxers,” Barry said, trying to think up the most embarrassing anecdote possible, but Snart’s smirk just grew wider.
“Oh, Barry, you know I go commando,” he drawled, and that made Barry’s brain freeze, his eyes flickering down to Leonard’s lap before he even knew what he was doing.
“Okay, I’m gonna need a stronger drink,” Lisa said, abruptly standing, Mick, Mark, and Shawna quick behind her, leaving only the two of them at the table. Alone at last, Barry opened his mouth to talk, but Snart shook his head, standing and nodding for Barry to follow, which he did, the two of them making their way to the exit. Outside, Barry sighed in relief as the breeze cooled down his overheated skin, feeling the anxiety drain from his chest as he took a deep breath of fresh air.
“Having fun, Barry?” Snart drawled. Barry turned to glare at Leonard. He took a step closer, dropping his voice low so that their conversation could be kept private from any prying ears inside the bar.
“What the hell, Snart?” he demanded, and Snart's smirk only grew.
“And here I was thinking that you’d committed to ‘Lenny’,” he quipped. Barry flushed red with embarrassment at the reminder that this was all very likely his fault, to begin with… but, goddammit, Snart didn’t have to take so much enjoyment out the situation. How was Barry supposed to know that only his closest friends were allowed to call him that?!
“Are you really going to hold that against me?”
“No, but I might hold karaoke against you,” Leonard replied quickly, stepping forward to close the distance between them even further, his eyes sharp and angry, clashing with the playful smirk he wore on his lips.
“Payback,” Barry muttered, refusing to back down, even as they stood so close now that he could feel the heat radiating off Snart's body. “If you hadn’t hung me out to dry back there, then none of this would have happened.”
“And if you had any kind of self-preservation, you wouldn’t keep coming to me for help in the first place,” Snart retorted, and Barry rolled his eyes. He’d had enough of this conversation from Joe, thank you very much. “Now, why don’t you run along, Barry,” Leonard drawled. “And maybe I’ll think about not shooting you on sight the next time I see you for that Vanilla Ice comment.”
And, well, Barry didn’t need to be told twice about that, glad to finally have an excuse to leave. He did not want to keep up this weird charade all night. Without another word, he turned and stormed away from Saints and Sinners, keeping to a regular human pace until he made his way into a nearby alleyway. And then Barry took off running.
It was only after he was safely back home that he realised he never had got around to asking for Leonard’s help…
“Aww, where’d your boyfriend run off to?” Lisa asked, her eyes sparkling with delight, as Len returned to the bar, sans Barry. Len gritted his teeth; God only knew how long tonight would be held against him. Knowing Lisa, she was never going to stop teasing him about the night his 'secret boyfriend' crashed a Rogues gathering.
These next few months were going to be a nightmare, he was sure of it. After all, there were very few people who could get away with the casual touches that Barry had this night, even fewer that could call him ‘Lenny’ and live to tell the tale. But apparently, Barry was an idiot.
At least he hadn’t come up with an obviously fake name this time around…
“You didn’t shoot him, did you?” Shawna asked.
Not yet, Len thought as he mentally imagined a few different ways to knock Barry down a peg or two.
Honestly…
Karaoke?
What the hell was the kid thinking?! Len had spent two damn years gaining the respect of these Rogues, and now Barry might have single-handedly undone all his hard work in one night.
“Shame; the kid was funny,” Mick muttered, raising his glass to his mouth. Len just sighed, returning to the bar for a glass of the strongest whiskey they had in stock.
“Karaoke…” Len muttered to himself as he waited for the bartender to hand him his drinks. He huffed out a laugh and shook his head. His Rogues sure wouldn’t be forgetting about that one for a while. Though Len supposed, it could have gone worse.
If Barry hadn’t gone along with the whole boyfriend act… if he’d given Lisa or Mark, or God forbid Scudder, a reason to start asking questions, and they’d discovered who Barry really was…
Well, that wasn’t worth thinking about, really.
But it was over with now, at least. Barry was gone, and Len could just go on pretending as though none of this had ever happened.
Oh, if only…