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Ray might be daydreaming, just a little bit. He can’t really help it, not when the library is so quiet and so warm and not when Leonard Snart is sitting right beside him, scribbling furiously at some homework. Technically, they’re supposed to be working on their AP Chemistry project together—figuring out a flavor for their homemade root beer, designing a poster, actually making the root beer—but that’s definitely not happening.
The moment Ray sat down, Leonard had shushed him and kept working on other homework. Ray had complied easily, finished a few of his own assignments before settling in to let his mind wander. The daydreaming had started about twenty minutes ago, and Ray is only slightly embarrassed by his own thoughts.
It’s nothing crazy or kinky or unusual: just idle thoughts of his crush, the very boy sitting beside him. Leonard is the strong, silent type, a bad boy with a tender side. Leonard is the kind of guy who helps old ladies cross the street when he thinks no one is looking, but also definitely gave some kid a swirly the other day. Ray wants to hate him, he really does. He knows Leonard has given all of his friends a fair share of hell. Leonard has picked on pretty much everyone Ray hangs out with—Ray included, even—but he just can’t help it.
Leonard is attractive. He’s smart and suave and has a motorcycle that he rides to school every single morning. He plays a big game, acting like some big-shot, but Ray knows that Leonard is secretly a softie. He knows about Lisa, Leonard’s younger sister whom he adores. He knows about Mick, too, Leonard’s best friend since elementary school. He knows Leonard would do anything for the people he cares about, and god does that really get Ray’s heart pounding.
“Raymond, you’re drooling,” Leonard drawls—and that’s another thing, his voice—with a pointed glare at Ray’s mouth. “Try not to get it all over the table, won’t you?”
Ray’s mouth snaps shut with a click and he sits back. He doesn’t have a retort and doesn’t bother trying to come up with one. He crosses his arms over his chest a little uneasily and tries to look anywhere but at his study partner.
“I was thinking,” Leonard starts again though his attention is still zeroed in on his homework, “a cherry flavor might be interesting.”
“For our root beer?”
“No, our wedding cake,” Leonard snaps. “Yes, Raymond, our root beer. You know, the whole reason we’re here?”
“Hey, you’re the one who shushed me the second I sat down. I was totally ready to dive into root beer land with you but this,” Ray gestures to the sheet of paper under Leonard’s pen, “seemed more important to you.”
Leonard bristles for a brief second then relaxes. “It is. I have to ace this take-home quiz or I’m royally screwed.”
Ray leans in with interest. “Anything I can help with?”
“Probably, but that’s not really allowed,” Leonard replies with a smirk. “Goody Two-Shoes Palmer is gonna help me cheat on a test?”
“I never said that. I just meant, if there’s anything you’re really stuck on, maybe I could lend a hand. What are study partners for, right?” Ray asks, tapping the tip of Leonard’s pen for emphasis. “Just let me know if you need my help.”
Ray watches Leonard contemplate the offer. Leonard’s gaze flicks from the paper, to Ray, to the paper and back to Ray again. For a few long moments, Leonard clicks the pen obsessively before setting it down.
“I don’t need your help,” Leonard decides and while his tone is sharp it’s not unkind, “not right now, at least. But,” he raises a finger to point directly at Ray, “I will probably take you up on that offer next week when I decide to cram for the pop quiz Pierce is likely to spring on my class.”
Ray grins. “I’d be happy to help.”
He watches Leonard pack away the homework and finally pull out a blue composition notebook labeled AP Chem. Ray reaches for his own similar notebook—though his is a deep red, and his handwriting is considerably less neat than Leonard’s—and scoots his chair forward. Leonard shoots him an amused look, almost as though a tease is on the tip of his tongue, but he doesn’t say anything.
“So, is cherry your favorite flavor, Leonard?” Ray asks, trying to keep his tone light and teasing and maybe a little flirty.
Leonard barks out a laugh. “Oh god, please don’t call me that.” He waves off Ray’s curious look. “It’s an old man’s name and I am not an old man. Call me Len.”
Ray furrows his brow before he agrees. “Alright, but you should call me Ray, then,” he decides.
Len quirks an eyebrow but nods.
“And for the record,” Leonard—Len—starts talking again as he flips open his notebook to a fresh page, “cherry isn’t my favorite flavor.”
“Well what is?” Ray presses, just to watch Len roll his eyes.
“I’d have to probably say…” Len hums as he considers his answer, “blue raspberry.”
“Let’s do that, then.”
“Blue raspberry root beer?”
“It could definitely work.”
“What’s your favorite flavor?” Len counters, though he does write ‘blue raspberry’ under his header of ‘FLAVORS.’
Ray is a little caught off guard by the question, though he figures he probably shouldn’t be. He taps his chin with the end of his pen while he thinks.
“I guess I like original root beer best, but I think maybe strawberry would be fun.” He shrugs. “We can do blue raspberry, though,” he insists.
“Both.”
Ray blinks.
“Let’s do both,” Len elaborates though he sighs in exasperation first. “Six bottles of my flavor and six of yours. Maybe we’ll get extra credit for being a little more ambitious.”
Ray hides his grin by copying down the decision into his own notebook. “You’re such a nerd.”
Len isn’t affected, not that Ray is surprised. “You got me,” Len drawls in a flat voice, “whatever shall I do now that resident super geek Ray Palmer knows little ol’ me is a nerd.” Len looks up, briefly, and meets Ray’s eyes with a small grin.
Ray watches Len again, just like he had been before, ignoring his notebook in favor of watching Len write. Len’s hand moves in quick, strong strokes that leave straight, long lines on the page. His letters are evenly spaced and Ray is kind of enamored with the way Len’s letters tend to stretch obnoxiously long.
“We should probably get together to mix the brew and bottle it all,” Len’s voice cuts into his thoughts again. “And so you can help me ace AP Calculus.”
Ray just nods, tongue tied up in his mouth.
“Cat got your tongue, Ray?” Len asks. He’s staring at Ray again, and this time the curve of his lips is devious and there’s a soft pink heat on his cheeks. Ray admires that Len doesn’t shy away from his feelings or the embarrassment or his nerves—it’s admirable, exciting even, especially given that the blush seems to be all for Ray.
“Nah, just distracted,” Ray clears his throat before continuing. His tongue feels like it’s tripping over itself he takes a steadying breath, calmed by Len’s own serene appearance, to get the words out smoothly. “I’m sitting next to a really cute boy, after all.” Ray forgets to breathe once the words leave his mouth. He’s not sure he’ll ever remember how his lungs work when Len ducks his head in a way that can only be described as bashful.
“How do you think I feel?” Len asks, though he’s not meeting Ray’s gaze anymore. “Sitting next to the hottest nerd in school, just the two of us.”
Ray can’t help it, he laughs. “Me? I’m the hottest nerd? Have you seen yourself?” He takes immense delight in watching the blush on Len’s face darken. “I’ve been thinking about how badly I want to take you on a date since the second I sat down.”
Len finally looks up and, true to form, rolls his eyes again. It’s fond, though, and even more endearing than before. “You’re such a gentleman, Ray, it’s almost disgusting.”
Ray scoots his chair closer to the table—to Len—until his and Len’s knees bump. He leans on his elbows and slowly invades Len’s personal bubble, giving him plenty of time to tell Ray to back off.
He doesn’t.
“Can I kiss you now? Because I’ve also been thinking about that a lot since I sat down.” Ray feels confidence surging through him like electric currents.
Sure, he’s had crushes before, plenty of them. And yeah, he’s been crushing on Len since the start of the school year (which, given that it’s now May is maybe a little ridiculous), so Ray had figured Len would find out eventually. He’d never really expected the crush to be reciprocated, though. Anna had felt the same way, back in middle school, and in freshman year Felicity had sort of returned his feelings—but aside from that, Ray hadn’t had a lot of experience in the whole ‘not being rejected’ column.
“You’re zoning out again, Raymond,” Len scolds, but he’s smiling in that private way, like he’s all for Ray and no one else.
“Sorry,” Ray apologizes sincerely. He leans out of his seat far enough to brush his nose against Len’s. “I’m gonna kiss you now, Len.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Ray—!” Len reaches up and grasps Ray’s jaw and hauls him in to close the distance between them. Their lips meet hard and fast but it’s as far as possible from bad as it could be. As quick as it starts rough and painful, it shifts to smooth and soft and easy. Len’s lips are chapped and feel like sparks against Ray’s own obsessively-chapstick-covered lips. Ray tilts his head into Len’s grip and the angle gets even better, their noses not digging against each other and their mouths instead slotting together.
Ray startles when Len’s tongue brushes his lips and knocks both their notebooks right off the table. The kiss breaks and Ray falls back into his seat so hard the chair tips and he’s on the ground in the blink of an eye. Len is still sitting on his own chair, looking just as surprised as his brain catches up to what’s just happened. When he finally takes it all in—particularly Ray flat on his back on the ugly library carpet—he bursts out laughing.
Ray joins in even as he covers his burning face with his hands. He laughs until his chest is heaving and his ribs ache and only stops once the librarian hurries over and shushes them both with a venomous glare. Ray sits up after that and slowly climbs back into his chair. Len has quieted down as well but stray giggles escape here and there, and he half-heartedly smothers them with a hand over his mouth.
When he’s finally settled again, Ray reaches out and pulls Len’s hand from his mouth so he can kiss him again, just single quick peck. The kiss has Len sighing, Ray would say almost dreamily of all things if it wouldn’t get him slapped, and his laughter finally subsides.
“So, how about after this we go out for dinner and a movie?” Ray asks as he links his fingers with Len’s.
Len grins and his blush has mostly faded, just the most enticing, faint color still remaining. “Alright, sounds great.”
“You fly, I buy?” Ray’s mind drifts for a moment to the thought of Len’s motorcycle and the part it has played in many of his daydreams.
Len looks like he wants to question Ray or maybe disagree. Ray knows Len is something of a prideful man, and Ray wonders if offering to pay was the wrong thing to say. Or maybe he doesn’t want Ray on the bike; maybe he’s fiercely protective of the bike and only lets Lisa be the other person to ride it. Ray’s mind lights up with a variety of thoughts, ranging from fairly reasonable to completely ridiculous, until Len finally speaks.
“Works for me,” Len agrees and Ray lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Len smirks but rubs his thumb along Ray’s hand as a comfort. His gaze drops to where their fingers are linked and squeezes once. “I’m going to be a pain in the ass, you know.”
It catches Ray off guard—something Len is evidently very good at. “What?”
Len sighs, more of a groan really. “My dad is an insufferable asshole, I’m kind of an insufferable asshole, I’m probably going to piss you off more times than you can count.” Len doesn’t let go of Ray’s hand.
Ray falls silent and contemplates his next words carefully. “My dad has some great lawyers, so if your dad tries to start anything, it’s not gonna go unpunished. I already know you’re kind of an asshole, but I don’t think that’s really you. I think you’re way more than just some jerk, and that’s the guy I know I’m gonna be dating—the one who’s more than just a badass with a motorcycle.”
Ray barrels on, even though Len shows no signs of interrupting.
“And, really, can you say I’m not going to drive you totally nuts too?” Ray grins. “Jeez, Len, I’m not expecting some perfect fairytale. I know you’re kind of messed up and, y’know, so am I. Maybe we can help each other be less messed up. I’ll be there for you, and you’ll be there for me, right?”
Len just nods.
“Plus, we’re in high school, we’re bound to have obnoxious fights and drama and I am really not looking forward to the earful Barry is gonna give me when he hears about this, but…it doesn’t matter, not to me. It doesn’t bother me,” he amends. “I really want to date you, Len, all the good and bad parts.”
Len’s hand is shaking where it’s locked with Ray’s but he’s smiling. “Okay, okay. You continue to dazzle and astound as a perfect gentleman,” his voice is hardly as sarcastic as he probably means it to be—instead it’s much softer and honest. “C’mon,” Len pulls back his hand only to gather his notebooks and papers, including the one still abandoned on the ground. “Let’s go to the mall. We can hit the arcade before dinner.”
Ray jumps to stand and practically throws all his stuff into his backpack without a care. He waits, nearly bouncing on the balls of his feet, until Len slings his backpack over his shoulder and nods. Ray holds out his hand and his heart does a hop-skip-jump when Len interlocks their fingers yet again. They fall in step together, stop by Ray’s car to drop off their backpacks, then migrate to Len’s bike.
“Ready?” Len asks as he passes along his spare helmet; it’s usually reserved for Lisa, but today is different.
Ray secures the helmet over his head and raises his hand in a thumbs up. Len laughs and shakes his head then climbs on first, gesturing for Ray to clamber on as well.
“Hang on tight, Raymond.”
Though Len can’t see it because of the helmet obscuring his face, Ray grins bright and wide.
“Hit me with your best shot, Leonard.”