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Ray Palmer absolutely, without a doubt, one-hundred-and-ten percent believes that soulmates exist.
Not in the overly dramatic way so many fiction works try to describe; he knows that no one is born with their soulmate’s name or first words seared into their skin, just as he knows that no one born colorblind will magically see colors the minute they meet the love of their life. No two people are born with matching birthmarks that mean they’re destined to be together, and that there’s no such thing as imprinting, at least not for humans.
There’s no scientific basis for soulmates—though given his day to day life, science sometimes mean little. There’s certainly nothing outlandish, like soulmarks or soulbonds, to suggest the existence of such connections. No one is walking around with a little red string tied around their finger, guiding them to their one true love.
Ray Palmer is just a bit of a die-hard romantic, and believes whole-heartedly that one day again he’ll see someone and just know. He’ll see that person’s face, their eyes, the curve of their smile, and he’ll have the sudden, electrifying, delightfully terrifying thought ‘I want to spend my life with this person.’
He just knows it.
Of course, years ago, that person had been Anna. He had been certain that she was his end all-be all, and if not for the debacle of the Mirikuru soldiers who took over Central City he and Anna probably would have spent the rest of their lives together. They had made each other happy, even when they annoyed one another or when they fought. Ray had been lucky to find someone like Anna, someone smart and gorgeous and seemingly meant to compliment him in every way.
The moment he had first seen her, Ray knew he wanted to marry her.
The thought had shocked him and scared him, but it also spurred him on. That thought, that burning sensation in his gut that felt kind of like butterflies on fire, drove him to ask her out.
There was seldom a time when Ray didn’t miss Anna; she would always hold a sizable chunk of his affection, and that was perfectly fine by Ray.
That same spark hadn’t ignited with Felicity, as much as he wanted it to. They fit together like near perfect puzzle pieces, and Ray didn’t even mind when they were almost too similar, even when it felt maybe a little weird to reach for her. More than that, though, there had been the lingering sting of her love for Oliver that always stood out to Ray, so he let her go.
Ray had wanted to feel that spark with Kendra, too—of course he had. He and Kendra had been married, sort of, and they had built a life together. Talking with Kendra, living with her, being by her side was easy. But that flame never flourished the Ray knew it should, maybe because he was scared of falling so hard again or maybe because Kendra had Carter and always would.
When his and Kendra’s attempt at dating fizzled out, Ray had put the thought of finding someone to love out of his mind for a while. The Waverider kept them plenty busy and after two failed relationships, Ray figured it was time to take a break. He would take it easy, keep it low profile, focus on saving the world rather than fulfilling his (admittedly obnoxious) desire to find ‘the one.’
But, of course, things rarely went according to plan for Ray.
Something about blood and guts an almost dying can really change your perspective.
He can hardly make out the details of Len’s face beneath the sheen of blood covering his skin. The best he can tell, Len’s eyes are closed and his mouth is slightly ajar though the tackiness of dried blood hangs like a web between his parted lips. Ray isn’t even sure how much of the blood is actually Len’s, all that he knows is he needs to get Len to safety. He stands, Len cradled in his arms in a bridal carry, and takes off running through the throngs of Savage’s men and the other Legends fighting back.
Ray catches Mick’s eye and almost pauses to pass Len off—the two partners had seemed to have mended their relationship, maybe Mick should be the one to take Len back to the ship—but Mick waves him off. Mick fires a well-timed shot to the face of one of their enemies and jerks his head toward Waverider. Ray doesn’t ask, doesn’t hesitate any longer, he just keeps running. He doesn’t stop, even at Hunter’s concerned and stunned look, until Len is on a bed in the med bay.
Ray doesn’t leave Len’s side until Gideon assures him Len will heal just fine, and that aside from a few choice scrapes and bruises, Len is hardly hurt.
Ray tries to get back into the fray outside the ship but by the time he reaches the off ramp of the ship, everyone is filing back inside.
Sara shoots him a sympathetic smile. “Don’t worry about it,” she tells him with a flippant shrug.
Ray takes her words to heart and puts the worry out of his mind. No one else seems to be even a little scratched up, so Ray doesn’t fret. He takes a little time to go back to his room, change out of the A.T.O.M. suit and freshen up a bit. By the time he’s finished, the rest of the team is mostly asleep or at least in their own quarters, so he slips back to the med bay unnoticed.
Len is still asleep when he gets there, so Ray pulls up a chair and hunkers down beside the bed. Len is clean, skin free of any blood and wrapped in fresh clothes and blankets; he looks peaceful, at ease in a way Ray is pretty sure he’s never seen before. Ray grins and props his chin in his hand as he leans on the bed.
“I thought you were dead, y’know,” Ray murmurs. “All I heard was that explosion, and your scream,” the memory sends a sickening shiver down Ray’s spine, “and you were—Jesus, Snart.” Ray sits back and scrubs a hand over his face as though he can wipe away that lingering fear. “I’m really glad you’re not dead,” Ray remarks, looking back at Len’s sleeping face.
Ray stares and finds he can’t pull his gaze away. There’s a soft curl to Len’s lips and his eyebrows are relaxed. There’s no tension lingering in his form and Ray entertains the idle thought of how nice it’d be to see Len like this more often. Ray reaches out and grasps Len’s hand loosely and strokes his thumb across Len’s palm. The exhaustion of the day starts to wrap heavily around Ray’s head and he feels his eyes start to droop.
“Palmer.”
Ray startles awake and for a split second his grip on Len’s hand tightens before he removes it entirely. Len is awake and staring at him with tired eyes but a lively smirk, eyebrow quirked and all. Ray opens his mouth to speak but realizes he doesn’t know what to say.
“Did we win?” Len asks as he falls back against the pillows, wincing.
“I think so. Sara seemed to think so, I figure that means we won.”
Len grins and nods.
Ray realizes, belatedly, that his heart is hammering so hard in his chest Len can probably hear it. He also realizes there’s little he can do about that without running off, and that would only be more ridiculous.
“You’re thinking too loud,” Len hisses, “relax.”
“You almost died.”
“Actually, Mr. Snart was never in danger—?”
“I know, Gideon, it’s—I just—I was worried,” Ray amends. “I thought you were going to die.” The thought strikes a sharp pain in Ray’s chest again, just as it had on the battlefield and just as it had when he first brought Len to the med bay.
“Still kicking.”
Ray shakes his head with an uneasy laugh. “Thank god for that,” he agrees. After a beat of silence, he stands. “I should let you rest.”
Before he can turn from the bed, though, Len reaches out and grips his wrist. “What, no ‘thank god you’re not actually dead’ kiss?” There’s a mischievous fire in Len’s eyes that’s shadowed by nerves, and Ray freezes. There’s the usual curve to Len’s expression but his eyebrows are tight and worried, as though preparing for Ray to reject him.
Ray’s heartbeat echoes in his own ears again and the sound makes him dizzy. The familiar feeling hits him like a sledgehammer to the back of the head: that buzzing of butterflies on fire swirling in his stomach. Ray stumbles back toward the bed and runs into the railing along the side, catching himself on Len’s shoulder. Ray knows he should probably say something, but his mind is too clogged with other thoughts.
Does this mean I want to marry Snart? Last time I felt this I wanted to marry Anna on the spot so…?
Should I even be calling him Snart? We’re on a first name basis now, aren’t we? We could be, right?
Oh god, I want to kiss him.
“So kiss me,” Len’s voice breaks through his thoughts and Ray realizes, horrified, that he’s been speaking aloud. “Kiss me, and then we’ll see if you need to put a ring on it.” Len still looks tired and more worse for wear than not, but he’s smiling and blushing and Ray can’t hold back.
He squeezes Len’s shoulder with his free hand and links their fingers together on the other. He leans over the railing of the bed and presses a soft, chaste kiss to Len’s lips. He’s rewarded with an equally delicate sigh slipping from Len’s mouth, one that Ray swallows up eagerly. They kiss, short and quick and over and over, drowning in one another until Ray has clambered onto the bed and is tucked alongside Len.
Ray pulls back when Len starts to shift and they end up tangled together on the bed. “I have no idea—I didn’t—uh.” Ray wracks his brain for something to say, to explain the way his heart is going a mile a minute and how he feels faintly nauseous.
Len laughs quietly. “I’m too concussed to talk about this right now,” he insists,” he pats Ray’s cheek affectionately. “Relax. Sleep. We can talk about this in the morning.”
Ray doesn’t point out that it’s already morning—very, very early morning—and instead just listens. He settles in and relishes the way his arms fit so perfectly around Len, how easy it is to drift off like this. Ray grins to himself.
He knows this isn’t going to be easy, he knows Len is probably going to be a pain in the ass more often than not, but he doesn’t mind. He doesn’t know why these tidal waves of feelings decided to resurface now, for Leonard Snart of all people, but he can make it work. He could definitely do a lot worse.
Ray doesn’t know if Len believes in soulmates, he doesn’t even know if the same fire that’s churning pleasantly in Ray’s gut is present in Len at all. There’s so much to discuss: are they on the same page, can they ever be on the same page, does Len fall fast and hard like Ray or is Ray going to have to fight for every ounce of affection? They still have so much to learn about each other, and Ray is both terrified and elated at the same time.
“Such a compliment, you sure know how to make a man feel special,” Len drawls sleepily.
Ray’s grin turns faintly apologetic. “Sorry, guess I talk to myself.”
Len hums in agreement and moves closer, resting his face in the crook of Ray’s neck and shoulder.
“Whatever,” he adds, but Ray can feel a matching grin on Len’s lip against his skin.