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“Is this seat taken?”
Leonard raised his eyes from the plate of steak and fries, and if he were someone else, he would have started to laugh; but since he was the famed Captain Cold and had a reputation to uphold, he smirked and raised an eyebrow.
In front of him, Barry Allen, the famous Central City hero Flash, simply kept his hazel eyes on him, a little smile on his lips, and a hand casually resting on the wooden frame of the booth opposite to his, like the answer was already decided and he was asking only out of politeness. Now, if Barry were someone else, Leonard would feel quite irked by the assumption, but this was his Scarlet, so…
And he knew, like the fact that he was a criminal and the other a hero, or that he liked his beer ice-cold, that if his answer would be ‘yes’, Barry would simply shrug and go to seat on at the counter.
“That depends… Is this a social call?” he drawled just to be difficult, and from he fond look on those expressive orbs, and the amount of sass the younger man was able to convey with a single eyeroll, the other knew it very well
“Nah, just hungry,” Barry answered, keeping his voice down enough to not attract unwanted attention but not that he had to resort to lip-reading to understand him – he would, he knew how, both of them were aware of the fact, and often used to communicate between them and piss off both the Rogues and the peanut gallery.
He scoffed, and with a nod, he signaled his assent to the younger so he could take a seat at his table, his grey eyes roamed for a moment to the other patrons of the bar, some of whom received a very pointed look that made sure they went back to their own fucking business at once, before his attention was calamitate back by the brunette. Barry had a soft look on his expression, so sincere he almost had to divert his gaze again, an automatic response that still had to be curbed out of him, even if in his mind he knew it would never happen.
This thing between them had been going on for a few months, and he was still waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Scarlet to finally come back to his mind and understand that he deserved much more than… him.
A soft touch against his leg brought Leonard back to the present, just in time to see the exasperated, worried, and awed expression of Christie, Charlie’s new waitress, when the young hero placed his order, and at the same time took his distraction as an occasion to steal some of his fries…
Damn him, and his little smug smirk.
“Hungry, eh?” he asked, swatting that thieving hand, and yes, he was aware of the irony, away from his plate, even if it meant having to contend with those lethal puppy eyes and pout, and giving a small kick to the calf that still was resting against his own, a discreet but solid warm presence.
“Yeah, had errands to run, and I’m quite beat,” and Leonard could appreciate the subtlety if Barry had not decided, after a moment of looking around the bar, to use his speed to go around his defences – bold even if his booth was in the most obscure corner of Saint’s.
Leonard raised an eyebrow again, Barry shrugged like it was no big deal, and he scoffed, amused, offering his plate with the remaining fries and reclining on the leather cushions, the perfect image of relaxation, taking a sip from his half-full beer, while the younger man beamed at him – well, revenge was best served cold, after all.