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It had been hell, trying to come up with an excuse to get away from Joe and Iris for the evening, but he finally manages to convince them to let him go, and he zips away toward the nicer part of downtown Central City with all due haste, mindless of the lightning burning in his wake.
The house he approaches is modest compared to the ones surrounding it, an understated sort of opulence as opposed to the grandeur bursting out of the other houses. Barry trips up the steps, snags the spare key hidden in the small hanging planter on the porch, and lets himself in the house with nary a sound.
The foyer is dimly lit, the entire house beyond it dark and silent, and a shiver of apprehension runs up Barry’s spine.
“Hello?” he calls out carefully, quietly, and he gasps in not-quite-surprise when a pair of strong arms pulls him sideways into an embrace. He relaxes into the familiar hold almost instantly, turning and wrapping his arms around broad shoulders as nimble fingers tighten on his waist.
“You’re late,” Len’s voice rumbles out, petulant. Barry laughs softly before kissing the tip of his nose lightly, delighting in the way it scrunches up in response.
“Joe and Iris didn’t want to let me go,” he explains apologetically, tracing his fingers along the firm muscle of Len’s back almost absentmindedly. “But I’m here now.”
Len hums in agreement, pulling Barry closer by his hips, resting his head on Barry’s shoulder and sighing in satisfaction. “You most certainly are,” he mumbles against Barry’s neck, and Barry closes his eyes at the feeling of Len’s lips there, where he had sucked a bruising mark into the skin not twelve hours ago, though no trace of it remains.
“Long day?” Barry inquires gently, not bothering to move quite yet—moments like this between them are exceedingly rare, and Barry’s taken to cherishing them when he can.
“Long year,” Len corrects on a sigh. “Ready for the new one.”
“I don’t know,” Barry muses, nosing at the skin right in front of Len’s ear, loving the way Len shudders against him, “it hasn’t been all bad, has it?”
“Too much of it.” Len shakes his head vigorously, grinding his forehead into Barry’s collarbone, and Barry reaches a hand up to cradle the back of Len’s head softly. “This one’ll be better.”
“What makes you say that?”
Len lifts his head from Barry’s shoulder finally, and his eyes are shining brightly with sincerity and an emotion Barry is too scared to name. “I’ll have you,” he says simply, and Barry’s pulse is roaring in his ears.
(They’ve never given name to this, this stupid, ridiculous thing they’ve been doing for the last four months, lying and sneaking away from their friends and families and colleagues, only accepted it for what it is and nothing else, unwilling to press the issue further lest it all fall apart, though they’ve both suspected for weeks now that this has grown into something they can’t control, something they weren’t quite expecting, something real and terrifying that has consumed them, made them more important to each other than they’d ever realized they could be, burrowed so deeply into each other’s hearts that it’s difficult to imagine a time when they hadn’t felt this strongly, felt this alive.)
Len pauses fractionally at Barry’s strangled silence, piercing eyes narrowing in uncertainty. “Won’t I?”
The shaky edge to Len’s voice forcefully drags Barry back to the present, and he runs his thumb along the furrow in Len’s brow, smoothing away the tension there gingerly. “Of course,” Barry says hoarsely. He clears his throat and tries again, confidence growing as the harsh lines of Len’s anxiety fade into something a little more tender. “You’ll have me.”
The loud gong of the grandfather clock across the hall makes them both jump, and they chuckle embarrassedly at each other when they realize the cause of the racket.
“Happy New Year, Len,” Barry says quietly, unable to keep the affection from pouring out of his voice and bleeding from his gaze. Something in Len’s eyes shifts and he smiles before pressing forward suddenly, and this kiss is perhaps the softest they’ve ever exchanged, sweet and light but full of so much promise.
“I love you,” Len whispers, almost inaudible even with the lack of distance between them. The air in Barry’s chest stutters, snags around his heart before expanding wildly somewhere underneath his ribcage, and he laughs breathlessly before pressing his lips to Len’s once more amidst the jangling of the clock and the faint din of celebration throughout the neighborhood.
“I love you,” Barry breathes back, and the blinding grin lighting up Len’s face, the joyous laughter bubbling past his lips, coupled with the weightlessness in Barry’s heart when he thinks of how much he loves this beautiful man in his arms, and how much this man must love him in return, is enough to get him through whatever struggles and hardships the coming year may bring.