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Len whirled around the trunk of a tree as another blast of green energy chased him, exploding part of the bark on contact—and thankfully not his face.
“You sure do attract a certain destructive element, kid,” he huffed into the comms Cisco had been so kind as to install in his hood. He wasn’t fooled; he knew it was more to keep tabs on him than make things easier during a fight alongside Team Flash instead of against them.
“You including yourself in that observation?” Barry said, barely out of breath. Len caught only glimpses of blurred red and yellow as Barry tried again and again to catch the sorceress off guard, but the green orbs surrounding her acted like sentinels, attacking anything that got too close.
Len grinned to himself as he fired a feint off to his left, waiting for one of the orbs to descend, then whirled around to his right, firing again and catching the orb dead-center. It exploded in a shower of green sparks.
“When occasion calls for it,” Len said.
He dove forward, narrowly avoiding fresh flashes of energy that sought him out from the other orbs still in commission, before ducking behind another tree.
The sorceress—and oh how Len loathed magic users now that he’d grown accustomed to facing them with Hunter’s crew—had led them to the park, seeming to want ruin and theatrics more than any tangible goal. Len could never grasp these types who didn’t have an end game for something of value. Even Mick, for all his pyrotechnics, enjoyed the payoffs of a heist.
“Just keep your cold gun attracted to her and not me for once,” Barry said, appearing suddenly right in front of Len as his voice finished carrying through the comms. He stood facing Len, keeping hidden behind the tree as well, which required him to stand quite…close, hands braced on the trunk on either side of Len’s head.
Len’s pulse stuttered, but he didn’t so much as flinch or let any stray heat climb up his neck. Easy enough when he’d been using the cold gun for near on an hour. Barry certainly didn’t seem to recognize the affect he had on Len, oblivious as the kid often was. He glanced around the side of the trunk for a brief look, then pulled back to look Len in the eyes, all business.
“I learned a new trick fighting Doctor Light. Once I attract the remaining orbs, make your move. She should be facing me so you can sneak in behind her. Don’t use the cold gun. If you have to, try to aim for something non-vital. This is about—“
“Subdue and capture, not kill. I know the rules, Scarlet. I abhor them, and they don’t make either of our jobs easier, but I’ll play along.” Len shifted in place, allowing Barry’s hand to just barely graze his shoulder—gloved digits against layers upon layers and an insulated parka; hardly an intimate touch, but as close as they ever came other than violent acts of the past.
Len would never admit how much a simple brush of skin on skin would have thrilled him from this kid and his unparalleled power that Barry himself—especially Barry himself—always underestimated.
Barry nodded, not noticing the touch, or how Len allowed his gaze to linger a little too long on his lips when he smiled, all dimples and teeth. “Playing hero can be fun, right?”
Damn his endearing nature. Len wanted to lick the smile from his face. “Ask me again when this is over.”
Barry flashed away, and because no one was watching, Len allowed himself a moment to catch his breath and shiver in the wake of being that close to the lightning ever pulsing beneath Barry’s skin. Playing hero was fun—with The Flash. Being able to get close, be close, without having to duck and cover.
Well, Len was still ducking and covering plenty, but not away from Barry, or toward him to take a shot, but around each other working in tandem. He could never admit how much he liked it, how much it meant to him that Barry believed in him no matter how many times Len was dismissive and made it clear that this was only for now, not a change of character.
He was a criminal—a thief and a scoundrel. There was no room for being a hero.
“Catch me if you can—but you’ll have to find me first!” Barry called out, his voice a vibrating anthem, making it sound like many voices instead of one.
Len peered around the tree to see afterimages of The Flash scattered around the park, the kid moving so fast, it looked as if there were dozens of him.
The sorceress fell for it, or at least her sentinels did, soaring in pursuit of each afterimage, leaving the woman herself unguarded from behind as she turned toward Barry. Her face contorted into frustration and rage at his impossible speed, perhaps even wondering if he legitimately could make copies of himself.
Len timed his moment just right, darting out from behind the tree when her attention was most turned away from him, and moving swiftly up behind her to knock her out, ice her legs if need be, but no, he’d leave her breathing. He had no plans to go against his deal with The Flash—not without any obvious benefit to him. Right now, playing nice was a benefit all its own.
He closed in on her, raised his gun, ready to swing at the back of her head, but in that same moment, she spun, pale white hand gripping the base of his gun with talon like fingernails. Her hair and eyes blazed green like the energy of her power, and she grinned madly at him.
For the briefest of moments Len was transfixed as her low, mesmerizing voice began to mutter something beneath her breath. He shook his head to clear it, unafraid, because he had built-in precautions against the unworthy.
“Nice try, Glinda. No one touches this gun but me.” He thumbed the button above the handgrip, and just as an electric jolt like that from a Taser surged around the gun and into the sorceress—Len remaining protected by the insulation in his gloves—she managed only one final word before she seized and dropped to the ground.
“Veritas!”
A moment later, Len stood over her unconscious body as Barry zipped over, panting with his hands on his thighs from having run so fast for so long to keep his afterimages going. The green orbs had all dissipated when she fell unconscious.
“Not bad,” Barry said, smiling again, all boyish charm and delight.
He even smacked Len’s shoulder good-naturedly once he had caught his breath. Len raised an eyebrow at the action, unwilling to react any more than that, though if anyone who knew him well had seen the act, Flash daring to touch him like that, they would have gasped in preparation for his less than amiable response.
But Barry…he could get away with almost anything.
“See, admit it, you do enjoy being on the same team.”
“I do,” Len said with a tilt of his head, “but mostly because I like you and your ass is irresistible in that suit.”
Even with the sorceress knocked out on the ground between them, and the distant sound of sirens filling the air, everything around them dimmed and faded away as a staunch silence rushed up between them.
Len replayed in his head what he had just said—what he had actually said out loud—and tensed imperceptivity throughout every inch of his body within the parka.
A moment later the kid was practically doubled over laughing. “Real funny, Snart. Can’t come up with any more ‘I’m a criminal and a liar’ comebacks, so you’re switching to Piper’s tactics? Like I’d ever believe that coming from you.”
Len could only stare, dumbfounded, as Barry busied himself switching the comms back over to S.T.A.R. Labs. Len had never been so grateful that the comms had more than one setting, instead of constant communication with Team Flash. If they had overheard everything, what he had just said…
Lisa, enjoying a night of recon with Cisco, would have never let him hear the end of it.
Apparently, too much exertion for one night had ended in Len’s filter breaking. At least Barry didn’t take it seriously. Though when Len tried to dismiss how much it hurt that Barry would never even consider believing Len could say or feel such things, he failed miserably, feeling instead a hollow ache in his gut that was not easy to smirk through when Barry turned back to him.
“Joe and Patty are on their way with Cisco’s new magic suppresser so they can get our witch here into the meta wing.”
“Shouldn’t there be a magic wing now if we’re splitting hairs?” Len asked.
“Cisco said the same thing, but until we have more metas and magic users than a single wing can handle, I’m not too concerned.” Barry’s face went humorously blank. “And I totally just jinxed myself there, didn’t I?”
“Yep,” Len smirked a little more genuinely.
The sounds of sirens were growing dangerously closer.
“Come on,” Barry said, “CCPD might look the other way with me, but they haven’t quite warmed to the idea of you as a hero yet.”
“Them and me both, Scarlet,” Len said as he holstered his cold gun, and waited for Barry to move into his body so he could whisk them back to S.T.A.R. Labs. “At least I get to feel some of that body heat for the few seconds you’re holding me close.”
He and Barry both froze as those words left him. What was wrong with Len tonight?
But Barry laughed again and shook his head, like it was all part of the same game, one Len wasn’t playing, but that Barry seemed to get endless enjoyment out of. If there was some color in the kid’s cheeks, well, that was only because he felt embarrassed for Len being such a damn fool.
At least he didn’t say anything, merely pulled Len into his body and zipped them away. Literally seconds later, it was over, Len dwelling for only a moment on how good it felt to have Barry that close, even if only briefly, before he straightened himself to look presentable as Cisco and Lisa came over.
“Nicely done,” Cisco met hands with Barry for what looked like a familiar series of gestures. “How’d you get her distracted enough to knock her out?”
“That afterimage trick I used with Doctor Light. Snart did the rest.”
“Kid was pretty impressive,” Len jumped in, not meaning to speak, but well…he didn’t mind being honest about that. “Didn’t know you could do that, Barry. Aren’t you always just full of surprises?”
Barry beamed as he pulled the mask from his face. “And you haven’t even seen my ‘throw lightning’ trick yet.”
“You can throw lightning?” Lisa crossed her arms with an appraising head tilt.
“Jay taught me,” Barry nodded.
“It’s super tight,” Cisco said.
“While I could listen to you two gush over Barry’s abilities for hours,” Len said with mostly sarcasm, “the Wicked Witch of the West wore me out. If you need further backup, you know how to find me. I intend to enjoy these few days off from missions with Hunter as much as I can. Lisa?” Len turned to his sister.
“You go ahead, Lenny. I’m sure Cisco can drop me off later.” She batted her eyes at him, causing the young engineer’s cheeks to darken.
“You’re lucky I like him,” Len said, coming up short again after realizing he’d just said that out loud.
Lisa smirked. Barry chuckled. But Cisco turned to Len with both eyebrows raised.
“Can I get a recording of you saying that?”
“No,” Len deadpanned, and turned on his heel to head out of the labs.
Before he’d even made it halfway down the corridor, Barry jogged up next to him—at normal speed. “Hey, Snart. You know…you can leave the Cold gear here. Cisco set up a few extra cases for you, Lisa, and Mick. Oliver has one too. We’ll probably have a whole room dedicated to team ups eventually.” He grinned widely, his proximity always so close, touching distance, without any hesitation or restraint.
Len kept his pace steady toward the elevator, eyes trained forward. “Is that your sneaky way of ensuring I don’t use my gear to pull any heists while I’m in town?”
“Mostly. You are also part of the team, you know?”
“I’m aware. I like that,” Len said. He stuttered to a stop. When he turned to Barry, the kid’s smile had dropped in lieu of surprise. Len tried again. “I mean…I like it.” What the hell? “I enjoy our nights together.” Shit, what was wrong with him? Barry’s eyebrow were quickly disappearing into the fop of his hairline. “I prefer working with Team Flash, with you, to anyone else I’ve ever—” Len clasped his hands over his mouth as it dawned on him…he had made a concerted effort to NOT say any of those things, yet still they’d all tumbled from his lips. This had nothing to do with a filter problem.
The sorceress. The last thing she’d said to Len was…veritas.
Truth.
“Snart? Are you okay?”
Len growled as he dropped his hands. “That…witch.”
XXXXX
Cisco and Lisa both blinked at Len like he was insane, but Barry had witnessed the truth firsthand.
Truth. Damn it.
“Are you serious?” Cisco asked.
“Yes. I can’t say anything that isn’t the truth,” Len insisted. “I’ve been trying.”
“How do we test something like that?”
Lisa’s smirk turned crooked as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “Hey, Lenny…”
Oh god…
“Remember when I was sixteen and I liked that twenty-two year old driver, Nicky, who worked with you on a couple small jobs? And you swore you never slept with him?”
“I didn’t sleep with him,” Len said honestly, but as much as he wanted to leave the sentence there, his mouth continued to move against his best efforts to stop it. “But if the way he gave head was any indication, he wouldn’t have been interested in you anyway.”
“Oh my god,” Cisco stepped back, looking a little green from that visual.
Barry looked more red than green.
Lisa, meanwhile, managed to smirk and scowl at the same time.
“Wait, you’re gay?” Cisco asked after a moment with all the tact he usually displayed. His eyes widened as if maybe he was the one cursed to speak the truth as he attempted to backtrack. “Uhh…”
“Thoroughly,” Len said, looking him dead in the eyes. “Problem?”
“No! I just…never really noticed anything.”
“If you’re inferring I never seemed to be checking you out, Cisco, you’re not my type.”
“Oh thank god.” He relaxed, then instantly tensed again. “I mean…coz you know…” He gestured helplessly at Lisa, and Len decided to put him out of his misery—or maybe that was the truth spell’s doing again.
“Yes, Cisco, I know, and if I had a problem with you seeing my sister, you’d know it.”
Lisa nodded as if to hammer that point home, while Barry continued looking on like this was all extremely fascinating, though to the speedster’s credit he had yet to burst out laughing at Len’s expense.
“Wait, so when you give someone a shovel talk, it’s literal?” Cisco asked.
Len desperately wanted to answer in the affirmative just to put a little fear in the kid. But once again, the truth spilled out instead. “No. Never killed one of Lisa’s dates before. Maimed…” He shrugged.
“Lenny!” Lisa glared.
Right. She’d only ever known he threatened a few dates, not where a couple of those threats led.
Len looked to Lisa, Cisco, and Barry each in turn. “Stop. Asking me. Questions. Clearly, I can’t control myself.” He focused on Cisco, since the kid immediately opened his mouth to protest. “You try and use this to swindle anything out of me I wouldn’t normal share, I swear, kid, I…I…” Shit, shit, shit. “I would never actually do anything to hurt you, and any threats I make are completely hollow.” Damn it!
“Really?” Cisco blinked in amazement at that admission.
Len would have punched Cisco across the jaw if he didn’t guess Barry would be fast enough to stop him, he was so done with all of this as he grit out an irritated, “Yes.”
“Sorry, okay,” Cisco held up his hands, “we’ll try to stop asking questions without meaning to. Or you know…personal ones. But so, right now you only feel inclined to say the truth when directly asked, right?”
“Yes. I think. What do you mean?”
“Do you feel compelled to tell the truth if you’re not asked something, like just start spouting things?”
Len considered that. “When implied questions, a response to the conversation, but not randomly, no.”
“That’s good!” Barry jumped in. “So maybe this is temporary. And in the morning it’ll wear off. We can’t exactly get in to see the sorceress this late anyway, if this is something she’d need to undo. I mean, I could get in to see her, but…probably not the best idea to have Flash sneak into Iron Heights too often.” He shrugged innocently—adorably. Everything he did was adorable.
Len bit his tongue, but relaxed as he realized that no, he didn’t have any inclination to speak the truth unless prompted. Thank god.
“Yeah, why don’t you just sleep on it, Snart,” Cisco said. “And if the spell is still affecting you in the morning, then we’ll worry.”
So much for enjoying a few days off. Although, all Len really wanted to do tomorrow was stay in, cook something hearty and warm, and watch the hockey game.
“Fine then. I’m going home.” Len turned to continue the trek he’d started when Barry raced after him earlier. “Before I say something I can’t live down. Think of some nice benign questions for me in the morning, Cisco! I’ll be here promptly at 8am.”
XXXXX
He was. Not that it mattered.
“Uhhh…good morning?” Cisco sat up straighter at one of the desks in the main labs when Len walked in at a clipped pace. “How did you sleep?”
“Terribly.”
“Is that the truth spell talking or would you normally admit that?”
“When I’m this irritable, kid, I’d admit that.”
“Right.” He slid the roller chair he was in a good foot away from Len at his approach as if to add some extra buffer between them. “How am I supposed to test whether or not you’re still affected if I don’t ask something you wouldn’t normally shy away from?”
“I thought you were a genius.”
Cisco pouted. “You’re a dick.”
“You’re adorable,” Len said. Shit.
Cisco’s mouth dropped open. “O…kay. I thought you said I wasn’t your type.”
“You’re not. That doesn’t mean you’re not adorable, just that I don’t want to see how far down that blush goes the way I would if you were Barry.” Len clenched both fists at his sides, fuming at how easily that truth had left him, and how much further Cisco’s gape just dropped. Now he could die—any time now—and maybe take Cisco with him.
“Dude,” Cisco said plainly.
“Don’t…”
“Don’t ever tell him or you’ll empty threat me to death? Got it.” Cisco rolled away toward one of the computer terminals. He had no idea how lucky he was that he was right—Len would never hurt him, not anymore. And in fact…he never would have earlier either. “Just cool it, Cold, okay? Let’s go ahead and think of this like a Catholic confessional. Anything you end up saying won’t leave this room. I’m sure Caitlin’s whole HIPAA thing means she’ll agree when she gets here.”
“Wonderful. The good doctor gets to witness my downward spiral as well,” Len growled as he took a seat on the edge of the desk beside Cisco.
“Look, man, you’re lucky Barry’s at work, okay, or he would have heard that…very weird blushing confession.” He typed away on the computer, keeping his eyes trained on the screen.
Len could tell the kid was nervous, for all his show about not being nervous, and despite Len admitting that his threats were often empty in regards to Team Flash.
“When Caitlin gets here, we’ll do some tests,” Cisco said. “Physical and otherwise, see what we can learn. Hopefully, we’ll figure something out. If we don’t, we’ll go talk to the witch in Iron Heights while Barry babysits you after he gets off work. And before you complain about that,” he spoke louder, “too bad, you’ll just have to keep your mouth shut if you’re worried. Barry visiting someone in the meta wing would draw way too much attention. It was bad enough when he kept visiting you. Caitlin and I are expected to work on meta cases.”
Len had to concede on that. He didn’t want his current situation to put The Flash’s identity at risk simply because the thought of being alone with Barry while in this state was daunting. “Fine. Hopefully, we’ll figure out a solution before then.”
“If you allow yourself to relax for two seconds, it’s actually kind of exciting.”
“My humiliation?” Len groaned.
“Working against magic. The things we could learn, man. For science! So I guess…thanks for taking one for the team.” He turned finally to smirk at Len and even smacked him in the arm.
Normally, Len would have pulled on an impressive glare to make the kid shake in his boots, but he was too worn to don his full Cold persona today. He just sighed and shook his head. “So happy to oblige.”
“At least sarcasm still works,” Cisco noted. “Though I suppose sarcasm is its own truth, since it’s pretty obvious your actual meaning there was ‘go to Hell, Cisco, and don’t touch the jacket’.”
Len huffed. “Close.”
Cisco laughed, and Len couldn’t be sure if it was something about the spell or just the natural inclination he had to like this kid, but he smiled in response. At least some of the tension in Cisco started to dissipate. “Come on, man, we’ll figure it out. I got some ideas while we wait for Caitlin.”
Cisco’s ideas largely revolved around questions aimed at tricking the spell, wondering if something like a paradox would break the affects by default. But even something as ridiculous as, “Name your favorite of the Four Tenors,” resulted in Len responding, “I could give a shit about the Three Tenors.”
The truth always finds a way, apparently.
Caitlin was more business-like and, frankly, cold when she arrived. Checking Len’s vitals, taking a blood sample, asking about his medical history, which he would have shied away from normally, but the spell ensured he answered her questions with complete honesty.
With all of the equipment at the labs, they were even able to give him an MRI, or rather an fMRI, which was essentially a regular MRI souped up with a computer program and mathematical formulas to manipulate the pictures.
“Your anterior cingulated cortex is in charge of monitoring errors, the dorsal lateral prefrontal cortex controls behavior, and the parietal cortex processes sensory input,” Caitlin explained. “Basically, the three places we believe work together when someone lies. They work harder if you’re lying, but you’re showing very little blood flow to these areas.”
“Can you force blood flow to counteract that?” Len asked.
“Not safely. And there’s no way to be certain it would have any affect if magic is the cause instead of science. Right now the magic just appears to be having some scientific repercussions.”
“So we’re no better off than when we started?”
“Well…” Caitlin went on into a deeper explanation that Len mostly tuned out. The real answer was that they were no closer to figuring out how to fix the problem. Len didn’t care about the discoveries they were making, only about reinstating his filter.
“Can’t live without lying, huh?” Cisco teased.
“No. Being able to lie, bend the truth on occasion, is one of the things that’s kept me alive. It’s not that I enjoy it.” He closed his eyes as that addition slipped out.
Caitlin had just taken another blood sample. She shook the vial gently, then patted his arm with her gloved hands to indicate he could get up. He slid his sleeve down over the cotton ball taped to his arm, giving it time to clot. He felt like a cross between a pin cushion and a guinea pig today.
“You usually show us your true face,” Caitlin said, not accusing so much as offhanded, which stung more than Len wanted to admit.
Only he couldn’t resist admitting, “No one sees my true face. The way I’ve acted toward you isn’t who I am.”
“Oh so you didn’t mean it when you kidnapped me and Cisco, or his brother, and threatened all of our lives?”
“Caitlin!” Cisco hissed, startled and glancing apologetically toward Len, while the doctor waited for an answer undeterred.
“No,” Len said, as he tensed with the coming confession. This was exactly what he had been trying to avoid. “You were never in any real danger. Mick played up his role, we made it look good, but you were never at risk. I wouldn’t have made the call if I wasn’t certain Flash could get to you in time."
Len hoped that would be the end, but he continued on. “Cisco was never in danger either,” he gestured toward the once again gaping young man, “or your brother. No lasting damage was done to his hands. I did what I did, threatened what I did, because I knew it would work. And it did. If by some small margin of error it hadn’t, I would have let you go,” he said to Cisco then turned to Caitlin again, “and Mick would have fried me for getting you hurt. He’s old fashioned when it comes to women and children.”
“What about the people you’ve killed?” Cisco blurted out, though he looked instantly regretful that he hadn’t been able to hold the question in.
Len snarled even as he continued to spout the truth. “Only ever life or death—me or them—or collateral damage that deserved what they got.”
“Even that security guard before Barry caught you?” Caitlin advanced on him.
“Charged with domestic violence multiple times. Guilty, never convicted. Care to see the police reports and x-rays of his kids?” Len grit out.
“And Ferris Air?” Caitlin pushed.
“Not a fan of wrongful imprisonment and torture, doc. Didn’t know Mardon would bring down the plane and kill those pilots. Been keeping tabs on all of the metas ever since.”
“Wow, okay,” Cisco held up his hands. “We believe you, man. Obviously. And we’ll stop with the third degree.” He gave Caitlin a pointed look, who shrugged as she finally moved away with the blood sample but seemed satisfied. “The one thing I don’t get is why?" He looked back at Len with a furrowed brow. "Why don’t you just come clean about all this stuff? I’m not saying learning this justifies some of the things you did, but it’s still a world of difference from what we thought of you before.”
Len turned away, wishing he could walk out, escape this place and all of the truth he’d laid before them, but he couldn’t leave if he wanted a chance at curing this. “Doesn’t make me much of a villain if I’m playing the hero’s tune.”
“But why—”
“Please,” Len spoke over Cisco, voice cracking, and god, he hated that, “don’t.”
Cisco’s voice was smaller when he replied, “Sorry.”
They fell into a forced silence after that, while Caitlin compared blood samples, Cisco worked on something else, and Len sat staring away from them. Eventually he removed the taped cotton from his arm and tossed it away, the few pricks in his arm barely sore. Caitlin was good at her job, even if she’d neglected her bedside manner during that barrage.
He was sitting on a desk a few down from Cisco when Barry came in. Len had long since removed his jacket, folded neatly on a table off to the side, just there in a button down and slacks. It felt all too casual, making him feel particularly weak with the way Barry’s eyes widened when he saw him.
“Going that well?”
“Couldn’t be worse, to be honest—since that’s all I can be,” Len said.
Barry’s eyebrows downturned in the most pitiable puppy expression. Len felt his heartrate stutter. “Sorry, Snart. Really. You got whammied because you were helping me. No luck, guys?” He turned to Cisco and Caitlin.
“Fascinating discoveries,” Caitlin shrugged, “but nothing to tell us how to turn the spell off. We’re going to have to visit the sorceress in Iron Heights. I already messaged Joe to arrange it.”
“Lovely,” Len groaned, not that he was surprised.
“Well, I brought Big Belly Burger for everyone,” Barry said, mustering a smile and producing a couple sacks from his shoulder bag. He plopped them down on the table beside Len. “Did you guys even eat lunch?”
“We snacked on some things from the break room,” Cisco said, grabbing his coat on the way over to the bags of food, and quickly arranging them so that his and Caitlin’s were in one bag he could carry with them, apparently knowing their regular orders on sight. “Thanks, man.”
Len was actually rather impressed at Barry’s guess for what food to bring him. The bacon cheeseburger had always been his favorite.
He sat down with Barry at the center table, chairs rolled over, to eat in the labs. At least eating would prevent him from talking too much. Or so he’d hoped. Barry was incapable of not talking, it turned out.
“Come on, your day wasn’t that bad, was it?”
“Mind-numbing and disheartening,” Len said, then quickly took a bite of his burger.
“Shoot, sorry,” Barry frowned, before shoving in a fry. “They mean well though. I’m sure they did everything they could hoping it would give them a lead. The sorceress will be able to undo the spell.”
“Assuming she’s willing.”
“We can convince her to be.”
“Cisco and Caitlin don’t exactly have leave to offer criminals deals, Barry.”
“No, I know, but…we’ll think of something if it comes to that. Or there’s this guy Oliver knows who deals in magic. He might be able to help. We’ll fix it eventually.” He took a rather impressively large bite of his own burger.
“Eventually isn’t all that comforting when I can’t control what I say. In most cases, it wouldn’t be a problem. But saying the wrong thing to the wrong person in my business could get me killed.”
Barry shrugged as if that wasn’t a concern. Then took a drink from the soda he’d gotten out of the vending machine in the break room and grinned. “You know what would help with that? Spending more time on the hero side. It’s not like it would be a big deal to accidentally spout truth to the Legends team.”
“Maybe not for you. I don’t enjoy having everyone I encounter aware of my inner thoughts. I realize that may come as a surprise to someone who wears their emotions on their sleeve…”
“Hey, I conceal plenty! I do have a secret identity to keep.”
“And how many people know that secret by now?” Len smirked.
Barry scowled around his next bite, and spoke through his chewing. “Shut up, it’s all, um…calculated risks.”
“I’m sure.”
This kind of honest conversation—teasing Barry—Len could handle.
“I still don’t get why you’re so upset about having to tell the truth for a while,” Barry said. “Is it really so terrible?”
“Yes.”
Barry snickered, shoved in another fry, leaned back in his chair, and it was all so…casual wasn’t even the word anymore. Len was eating Big Belly Burger alone with Barry in S.T.A.R. Labs, both of them dressed in simple button down shirts, having a light-hearted conversation, and Barry just looked so…endearing, encompassing in that moment everything Len loved about him.
“I mean, seriously, what is the worst thing you could say?”
Until that moment.
Len choked on the bite he’d just taken and began to cough, managing to swallow but some of it went down the wrong pipe. He started coughing and hacking more violently, and really needed some of his own drink pronto. He tried to down some of it, still sputtering, still coughing, while Barry sat up straighter, ready to jump to his aid if need be.
Len held up a hand, shook his head—he didn’t need Barry’s help. But he had to think, had to figure out how he was going to keep the truth at bay, because as soon as he stopped coughing, he was going to say it…he was going to confess the one truth he was most afraid to reveal, and he didn’t know how to keep it in.
Still coughing, he jerked up from the table, feeling his face going red and his head swimming as he tried to escape the room, run for the bathroom, anything to avoid the truth from pouring out—but he couldn’t move! The spell held him in place, forcing him to answer.
No.
“Snart?” Barry jolted to his feet as well. “Just breathe okay? What’s wrong? I didn’t mean…oh god, is it what I said? Don’t try to hold it in, this is magic! Shit, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to ask that, I just—”
“I want you,” Len said the second his throat cleared and his coughing subsided. That would have been enough to mortify him, if he had been able to stop there.
“What…?”
“That smile…the way you move…your body.” Len couldn’t keep any of it in, no matter how hard he tried.
Barry’s brow scrunched as he no doubt thought back to when they’d faced the sorceress and the things Len had said then. “But I thought…you didn’t really mean…” His eyes widened, “Oh,” as he realized those things could only have been the truth.
“It’s so much more than how you look, kid, though that devastates me every time I see you—in the suit, out of it.”
Oh god, Len had to stop. Barry was already turning his signature color.
“You’re too good, Barry. Too good a hero for this city. For anyone. You believe in me when you shouldn’t” –really, really shouldn’t— “Treat me like I can be saved. See the best in everyone” –even me— “You’re smart, and sweet, and a better friend to those around you than anyone else in their lives, and they know it.”
If only Len could stop now, before he said too much—though he’d already never be able to face Barry after this and the pitying looks he’d soon be given—but he knew the spell wouldn’t let him.
“For someone to know you and not want you, I could never understand that. The way I can imagine…loving you…” –No— “…makes it harder to be around you, but somehow still the most worthwhile thing in my life, something thieving never gave me. I’d be a better man if I could have you, Barry, but I don’t deserve—”
A crack of lightning cut Len off, and for a split second he expected to be punched. Before he realized he was no longer in front of the table, but several feet away, pressed back against one of the desks, with Barry’s tentative hands on his chest and lips pressed to his.
Barry must have punched him, snapped his neck and he was dead on the floor, because this…couldn’t be happening.
The kiss was nothing more than a light touch of lips, but still it left Len’s mouth tingling. Barry pulled back with a gasp, like he hadn’t meant to use his powers in that moment, move them, or do anything so bold as kiss Leonard Snart.
“Why did you do that?” Len asked when he found his voice, at least able to speak something other than his most recent rush of confession.
Barry’s hands shook a little where they pressed to the front of Len’s shirt, his cheeks flush and eyes darting around nervously. “No one’s ever said anything like that to me before. No one’s ever wanted me like that.” Slowly, hesitantly, his eyes lifted and focused right on Len. “Not someone I wanted too.”
Len swallowed. Breathed. The spell must have fried his brain. Because there was no way…no way Barry could want him.
“I never thought you…” Barry darkened further and tore his eyes from Len again, “…never in a million years did I think you of all people… I mean, look at me.” He pulled back and gestured at his full self. “Which, okay, that’s something you apparently do a lot, but how can you think I’m anything but a nerd who got lucky? Some dumb kid who may be book smart but is terrible at everything else? You’re this super cool, suave, sexy guy, who IS worth saving, and a good person, and so much better than you give yourself credit for. Why would you want me?”
Len wanted to be upset that Barry had yet again asked him questions he’d be forced to answer, but the panic that had flared to life in him was dulled now, and his mouth moved without him trying to stop it. “Because to me you’re perfect. I wouldn’t change a thing. You are a nerd who got lucky. And the city and everyone in it is lucky too, because it was you and not someone else. You’re terrible at plenty, but you get better, you always try, you never give up. Not even on me.”
“And I never will,” Barry rushed back toward him and took his face in both hands, causing Len to gasp because he’d never had Barry so close. Even that brief kiss hadn’t seemed as intimate as this. “There’s nothing to give up on. I know it, and you know it too. Not just because you’re good at being a hero, and we have fun working together, but because you want it. You want me to be right.”
Len’s eyes felt unfairly hot as he sputtered, “Yes.”
“Then why do you fight so hard,” Barry asked, leaning in close enough to share breath. “Why won’t you believe me?”
Moisture built in Len’s eyes and slipped down his cheeks, because he finally wasn’t fighting, just looking into Barry’s eyes. “Coz I’m afraid. Can’t risk finding out I’m still that same coward who left Lisa when she needed me, and let someone new down that I…love.” Len clenched his eyes shut, more tears falling. He’d never felt so weak, and it stung worse than any wound.
“You’re not weak,” Barry said, either reading his thoughts, or maybe Len had said that out loud. “The truth isn’t weak. Just means you’re human. That you can’t handle everything on your own. There’s nothing weak about that.”
Before Len could open his eyes, he felt the soft pressure of Barry’s lips on his again, gently moving, coaxing him to respond. Finally, Len did. He leaned into Barry, let the kid press him to the table, let their lips move and slowly begin to open.
The feel of Barry’s tongue made Len shudder. Barry Allen, The Flash, kissing him, wanting him.
For how naked he felt, bared open with nothing held back, he also felt relief, and gave himself over to the kiss and how secure he felt in Barry’s embrace. Barry’s thumbs moved beneath his eyes to brush his tears away, his palms still holding Len’s face, as they kissed—slow. Deep. Deeper.
Len trembled reaching for Barry, glad the kid couldn’t see how awkward it was for him to reach for anyone. As soon as he felt Barry’s hips beneath his fingers though, he held on tight, feeling grounded, safe. Barry pressed into him, their hips aligning, and Len whimpered out of their kiss, holding his forehead to Barry’s, still mostly disbelieving he actually had the kid against him.
Then Barry’s phone rang.
Barry groaned, pressing his forehead to Len’s a little harder, letting his body sag against him, nearly toppling them onto the desk, and kissed lightly once more at Len’s lips, before he pulled back.
“It’s probably Cisco and Caitlin.”
“S’okay, kid. Answer it.”
Barry nodded. In a flash, he was gone, back by the table picking up his cell phone. “Yeah?”
Len took in slow breaths to calm down. He steadied himself with both hands braced back against the desk, watching Barry, still somewhat numb and disbelieving that this was real.
“Really?” Barry brightened, looking back at Len with wide eyes. He covered the mouthpiece. “What’s your favorite color?”
“What kind of stupid question is that?” Len raised an eyebrow at him. Then stood up straight, moving a step away from the desk when he realized he didn’t feel a compulsion to answer Barry honestly.
Barry grinned. “Yeah, Cisco, we’re good. Guess I already snapped him out of it.” Barry pulled his phone away and turned on the speaker.
“The sorceress said the only way to break the spell was if he spilled his biggest secret. How did you get Cold to do that? Wait…what was it?!”
“Talk to you later, Cisco,” Barry said. “Thanks for making the trip. FYI…” he bit his lip as he eyed Len from head to toe, “…we might not be here when you get back.”
“What? Why? Barry—”
“Later,” Barry said and promptly hung up. He tossed his phone back onto the table with the remains of their dinner. There was a smugness now, a devious confidence in him that made his slow saunter back to Len look devilishly sexy. “So which one was it? That you want to be a good guy, or that you think you’re falling in love with me?”
Len relaxed, deciding that if the cat was out of the bag, he might as well enjoy this. It still scared him—all of it. Trying to be a hero when he still didn’t believe the things Barry said about him; allowing himself to love this kid when part of him was certain at some point he’d screw it up; but there was also an alluring side to it now that he knew Barry wanted him too.
So he leaned back against the desk as Barry moved into his body, settling into a stance and expression more befitting of Captain Cold. “Gloating is unbecoming of a hero.”
“You’d know,” Barry said, trapping Len in place with both hands planted on the desk on either side of him.
Little shit. But it was all part of what Len loved about him—what he wanted, craved, and now, maybe, finally could possess.
He decided to shut Barry up by kissing him again, and as he leaned forward, the weight of the spell gone from his shoulders, while a flutter of fresh and not altogether frightening nerves remained in his stomach, he said, “By the way. Favorite color? Definitely…Scarlet.”
THE END