Work Text:
Len should’ve known better—plans never go right when the Flash was involved. Even if he and Barry made the plans together. So much for the nice dinner he intended to make, to share. To make their first Christmas together special.
But this was Central City. The goddamn Trickster required their attention, back again like a bad penny. Both of ‘em this time. They’d be useful Rogues, given their skill set. Too bad their other qualities made the point moot—general chaos, insanity, and a tendency to go after children. The duo were subdued, back behind bars. Not that Len was a fan of the system, but certain people…there were no other real options.
So much for his plans. Fifteen minutes left in Christmas Eve; he’d have to improvise.
It took Barry and Len practically no time at all to get back to Len’s apartment. Headed there directly from the fight, opting not to stop by STAR Labs first. Lisa and Iris already left, and it meant that they could avoid Joe—something Len was always a fan of. Especially lately.
Barry grinned when they came to a stop, already inside the door. Len couldn’t help smirking in response. The speedster was getting better at phasing them both through objects; he barely even felt that. More accurately, he sensed a difference from the rush that was running with the Flash. Speaking of…
He pulled Barry in for a kiss, hands loving the feel of all that power humming through lithe muscles, encased in red leather—fine, tripolymer. Still felt like leather. Smelled like it, too. And the way it hugged each and every curve…one hand snuck down to grab a handful of Barry’s perfect ass, earning a quiet moan when he squeezed—
“As much as I am so on board with this plan, food kinda has to happen first. Unless we want a repeat of last time,” Barry sighed against his lips. “Plus, Cisco will kill us both if we get the suit all messed up. Again.”
Len snickered, stealing another quick kiss and letting the speedster go. “Mistletoe, had to,” he nodded to the sprig of green over their heads, wondering when Barry had the time to hang it. “Hope you told him that incident was your fault,” he smirked.
“Wha—? No. No I did not. In fact, never talking about it again would be too soon for both of us. The stupid thing actually recorded my vitals the whole time. I’m just glad Cisco got the alert instead of Caitlin.” Barry was flustered, blushing. “And I know it’s not like we need an excuse to kiss, but it’s tradition.”
“Mhm, sure Scarlet. Worth it, though.” It’d been Barry’s idea to bring their personas into the bedroom—hallway. Never did actually make it the extra thirty feet to the bed. Worth it indeed.
“Um,” Barry swallowed, pupils dilating. “Yes. And the rug burns,” he grinned. “But not tonight…or not yet, anyway.”
“Agreed. It’s been a long week.” Len tugged the cowl down, unzipping the jacket, unbuckling the belt…at least until Barry rolled his eyes and stepped back.
“After dinner.” A blur, puff of air later and Barry was back, dressed in one of Len’s Henleys and a pair STAR Labs sweats. “Go ahead and change. I’ll see what we’ve got…or at least what we can throw together quickly.”
“Bossy,” Len smirked, shrugging out of his parka, tugging off his boots before heading to his room. Soon to be their room. If his gift got the reaction he was hoping for. He and Barry were having their own celebration that night, on Christmas Eve. West had a big thing planned for the next day.
“Think the fridge is pretty bare. No chance to stock up lately.”
He hadn’t. Between working with Cisco, Harry, and Jay on new strategies and tech to take down Zoom, keeping track of his Rogues—including planning a new heist with Mick, Hartley, Shawna, and Bivolo to take place in early January, their own Christmas celebrations that ended up falling through, and dealing with the fallout from West—busy week was an understatement.
Could’ve gone worse; West could’ve walked in on something. Meaning he’d be dealing with a bullet wound. Never fun. Or Barry could’ve decided he wasn’t worth the hassle, now that this, that they were no longer private.
Len still couldn’t believe his luck. It was why he wanted to keep things between him and Barry quiet. The brunette could have literally anyone, but wanted him. Didn’t make any sense; why he’d choose a semi-reformed criminal, guarded and cold when Barry was so warm, open. But for as long as he could, as long as Barry would let him, Len would hold onto the younger man for all he was worth. He didn’t take the speedster for granted.
Took a while—both ages and no time at all—for Barry to go from spending the night every once in awhile, to them waking up together three or four mornings a week. West’s comments got more pointed, given that Barry still lived with the man.
‘Len, we need to tell him before he finds out. Trust me, that’ll be so much worse.’ It wasn’t difficult for him to picture Barry’s puppy-dog eyes, even weeks later.
Saw the logic. Decided to tell him that next Monday. Forgetting, as usual, that plans of his rarely ever went properly when Barry was involved. Just one day before, they stopped by, both of them sharing his bike so Barry could grab more clothes. Len was sprawled out and nearly dozing on the couch, waiting when West burst through the front door, gun drawn.
It was messy, but could’ve gone much worse. Barry was right, they should’ve told West sooner. As much as Len hated having to confirm the man’s suspicions, that yes, Barry Allen did in fact spend all of those nights in Len’s apartment. In his bed, in fact. And no, he wasn’t using the kid. Wasn’t a plot of some sort, some way to manipulate Barry or get one over on the Flash.
Hearing West give voice to all of Len’s fears and insecurities was no picnic. He already knew he wasn’t good enough for Barry. Painfully aware, didn’t need West to point it out, thanks. But as long as Barry thought otherwise…Len wasn’t gonna let go.
Now West knew and Barry was still here. Still wanted him. Len glanced around, noting all of Barry’s things scattered around his bedroom. Glasses on the nightstand, dog-eared copy of Game of Thrones on the dresser, CCPD lanyard hanging on the corner of the mirror. It was everything Len never allowed himself to picture. A place of his own, with a partner.
A partner that accepted Len, his broken pieces and metric tons of baggage. Who knew about his criminal side and accepted it. Len still couldn’t quite wrap his head around it, that the Flash and Captain Cold were—but they worked. Somehow.
He changed quickly, splashed some water on his face and checked the hidden drawer in the walk-in. Took a moment to stare at the wrapped box before pocketing it. It contained a key to the front door. One he made for Barry, his way to ask the kid to move in.
It was supposed to happen over dinner that evening. Len would put it off, but…But it took him forever to work up the nerve and he very much needed to know. If Barry wanted what he did. Especially since West knew already. Just had to figure out a way to do it—easier said than done.
Now to find Barry and figure out food. With the small box in his pocket making him warm.
Barry poked around the fridge, but it was as empty as Len told him it would be. He heard soft steps behind him and tossed a grin over his shoulder. “Looks like takeout. I know you had something up your sleeve, but…rain check?”
Len closed the distance between them, his arms wrapping around Barry’s waist from behind. The speedster’s grin softened and he leaned against the older man with a happy sigh. “Hi.”
Soft lips pressed a kiss behind his ear, then down along his neck. “What d’you feel like?”
“You know me, food, I’m not exactly picky.”
“Don’t remind me, Scarlet.”
“Oh come on. Until you need over a hundred thousand calories a day to stay upright, you’re not allowed to judge. What’s still open?” He twisted in Len’s arms, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.
“Surprise it is. Still feeling up to movies?”
“I’m sure I can manage one…especially with excellent company.” Barry kissed Len’s nose, zipping off to turn on the tree and get the living room set up. The way the older man scrunched his nose was way too cute for Barry to resist, ever since he discovered it.
He loved this. Loved fighting as a team, the occasional showdown between them. The first few after they started dating were rocky, but they worked through it. Barry loved spending time together afterwards, or just at the end of the day, loved waking up together. He loved Len. Even if he hadn’t said it yet; Len wasn’t really comfortable with expressions of affection, at least not verbal ones. But Joe knew now, and it was time.
Time for him to find his own place…hopefully with Len. Barry glanced at the card…well, box with a card inside. It had some promising listings, too, for them to look at, together. Of course, he’d love to move in here, too. But he didn’t want to presume, and either way, moving out of Joe’s house was long overdue.
Granted, it wasn’t a normal present, but Len wasn’t exactly normal, either. And what does one get for a thief with an international reputation, who had more money than he’d ever used (Barry assumed, but didn’t want to ask because plausible deniability was a good thing sometimes), and had the skill to take whatever he wanted?
Ok, yeah, Barry got him more than a few winter-themed presents as well. A pair of soft flannel pants with snowflakes, multiple pairs of warm wool socks to hopefully prevent the ice cube effect, and two scarves. One was blue, but the other burgundy—slightly more subtle than scarlet. And one of those horrible Flash shirts. Because it had to be done.
He turned on the tree, their tree, complete with ornaments and presents underneath. Sadly, Len didn’t have a fireplace to hang stockings on, but they’d survive. It wasn’t as though either of them believed in Santa, though Len made plenty of comments about Barry’s red suit. And presents far more naughty than nice.
Barry couldn’t help but smile at that. It was a good night.
Dinner arrived and was finished in record time, even for Barry.
The small box was still burning a hole in Len’s pocket. He wanted to give it to the speedster before they went to sleep. Slipped out the box and put it on Barry’s side of the couch, just in time.
“I thought we were waiting until tomorrow?”
“Technically it is tomorrow. Has been for an hour now.”
Earned him an eye roll. “You know what I mean, Len.”
“Just open it, Scarlet.” Len said, flicking his eyes up to meet Barry’s hazel ones, then down and away.
“…Okayyyy.” The speedster picked up the box, fingers toying with the ribbon. “So, that means you have to open one of mine. I wasn’t exactly sure what to get you, though, so they’re not very good. I mean, really, what could I possibly get you? Cold gear only goes so far, and—”
Len tilted his head and smirked a bit, leaning forward and pressing his lips to Barry’s. It was his favorite way to cut off Barry’s rambles—not that he didn’t enjoy listening to them. Under most circumstances, anyway. Right now, though…he needed the brunette to open the box.
Once they were finished kissing, anyway. He drew it out, nipping Barry’s bottom lip, soothing with his tongue. Allowing himself to get lost in it, one hand sliding up into soft hair, tugging gently, making Barry moan and press closer.
So responsive, sensitive. Especially his hair.
He let it go on for another two and a half minutes before easing out of the kiss.
“You underestimate yourself, Barry.” Len whispered into the non-existent space between them. “Open it.”
A soft smile chased away most of the speedster’s nerves. “Alright, I’m opening it.”
Of all the times for the kid not to use his speed…Len watched as long fingers slid under tape, untied the ribbon, carefully unfolded the paper—he was going to go insane with the waiting. He was done being patient, but at the same time—he didn’t exactly want to hurry things in case the answer was ‘no’.
The next seventy-three seconds were interminable, but the box was finally open. Except Barry just stared.
“Len?” Barry’s voice was soft, curious. “Are you…asking me to move in?”
“I know it’s not much. You spend so much of your time here already, and it just makes sense. For you, for us to live together. If that’s what you want.” Len stared down at the wrapping paper on the tabletop. “I know I’m not…that I don’t always say it, but—”
Now it was Barry’s turn to cut him off with a kiss, and a sudden lapful of speedster. Arms wrapped tight, hands tracing up and down Len’s back, over his t-shirt. This time, though, everything was far more urgent—Barry’s tongue in his mouth, the key practically forgotten.
Once they came up for air, he had to ask. “That a yes?”
“Of course it’s a ‘yes’.” Barry kissed him again, briefly. “Although it kinda makes one of my gifts moot.”
“Really now?”
“Yeah, the big one.” Barry blurred, the large red and gold package appearing on the table, Len suddenly sprawled out, leaning against the arm of the couch with Barry curled up against his chest, legs tangled together, blanket pulled up.
“Warnings, Scarlet, warnings before you do that. At least this soon after eating.” Len rolled his eyes, not even bothering to try to sound annoyed. Right arm wrapping around Barry’s waist, hand sneaking under his shirt.
“Your turn to open something,” Barry smiled at him.
“If I must,” Len sighed, needing both hands for this. “Subtle theme, Barry.”
“Well, why mess with perfection?”
Couldn’t help smiling at that, unwrapping the box. Great mind. “Apartment listings?”
“Mmhm. It’s way past time for me to move out of Joe’s, and I didn’t want to presume,” Barry shrugged.
Len took a more thorough look; there were five flyers, ranging from a modest bachelor pad to a three bedroom condo. Felt warm at that. It meant that Barry wanted them to move in together as much as he did. “Looks like we’ve got a decision to make. You want to move in here, or should we find a new place?”
“Do we really have to decide that now?” Barry twisted around in his arms, lightly kissing his neck, the hollow of his clavicle.
Heat raced outward, from his chest to each place Barry kissed. Touched. Every scrape of his teeth and nails. Len quickly got with the program “Not at all.”
It was a good night. Len’s best Christmas, hands down. Not that it said a lot, given how low the bar had been set. Where he lived didn’t matter. Barry was his home.
Even though they never did get to watch the movie, and Barry was exceptionally late to the West house for Christmas Day festivities.