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“I hope you know,” Barry said, looking supremely uncomfortable with his arms folded over his chest tight, like he wasn’t sure what to do with them, “that this is your fault.”
Len raised an eyebrow. “Oh.”
“Well,” Barry huffed, and the sound came out weird, a bit hysterical - which was odd because Len was sure his own mouth had never been used to make a sound like that, ever - as Barry shook his head at him, “I guess it’s my fault too. For encouraging your… Uh. Encouraging this heroic side of you.”
Len would feel touched if his stomach wasn’t still rolling from whatever that meta had done an hour ago. He’d once gotten the stomach flu in high school, the worst he’d ever been sick, and Lisa had had to pat his back while he hid in the bathroom from their father, puking up his guts.
The urge to throw up was there now. Just a little urge, lingering in the back of his senses as if his body was waiting for the right time, for the moment he was feeling better than he was at this second and not ready to storm out the door and ice that bitch with her (obviously dyed) red hair to the street.
Okay. Maybe the sickness came partially from how gut-wrenchingly angry he was.
Some of it must’ve shown on his face - and really, he was losing his touch if Barry could see his tells so easily, what would his father say - because Barry’s expression softened. Len hated that it was the most open his face had ever looked, a small smile tugging at his chapped lips. It was like looking into a mirror.
A mirror that was definitely not him but his boyfriend of six months who was fidgeting in place the longer he stared back at Len.
“Cisco and Caitlin will know what to do.” Even Barry’s voice was softer - jeez, everything sounded wrong coming out of his mouth like that. “They’ll be here in a few minutes, Cisco said they’re almost in the parking lot.”
“Because your ragtag team of heroes is going to be able to perform some Freaky Friday magic with their scalpels and computers?”
The scowl was more familiar, somehow more of a comfort to be facing down. And he was facing down, and wow, how he had never noticed the extra inch or so between him and Barry? “I’m serious. I told them… I told them we have a problem and that things aren’t what they seem. And that a meta is involved. Figured it’d be better to introduce ourselves as...not ourselves. In person. If that makes any sense.”
“Because they’re going to believe us if we tell them in person rather than over a text?”
Barry rubbed a hand over his face and grimaced, fingers lingering on the stubble on his chin. Len’s chin. “Knowing them? I mean… Yes? Probably?” Barry bit his lip. “Though, we’ve faced weirder things than body-swapping metas, so - ”
“Never mind.” Len turned away, and he hated how his eyes were drawn to the Flash suit in the mannequin across the Cortex. Everything inside of him was antsy, his veins thrumming like he had to go somewhere, anywhere but here. He didn’t want to think about how it might have been Barry’s powers hissing with that impulse. Or perhaps it was just him, and how completely awkward it was to share his boyfriend’s body.
Perhaps share was the wrong word here. Borrow?
Funny how he was a thief, a professional criminal and the one time he hadn’t wanted to steal something, he wound up with a younger body, with superpowers he couldn’t control and had no idea how to use - and no urge to use either.
Ugh. Barry was right about corrupting him with all this talk about heroism and morals.
He should’ve let Barry drag him away from that woman when he spotted her robbing the bank across the street. They could’ve been having a nice date, a night out at an Italian restaurant Barry had chosen (“The pasta is to die for, okay? I could eat there all night!”), and not had to worry about having to ask each other about what was the right thing to do in your boyfriend’s body when you had to piss.
The sound of the elevator doors opening down the hall made him tense, and Barry worried his lip more, glancing between Len and the doorway. Murmured voices grew louder with each step, an omen of nothing good even without the inevitable explanation to follow.
Maybe he should have warned Barry, made him actually tell his team about the details and given them a head’s up.
Still. At least it wasn’t Joe West’s voice he heard approaching. Any of the Wests, for that matter, because he could already picture the shouting and glaring and fervent words under their breaths when they thought Len wasn’t listening in.
“Hey.” He hadn’t seen Barry cross to him, hands grazing Len’s from where they lay at his side. But he didn’t hold onto Len, didn’t pull him close, as if he wasn’t sure if he had permission. Then again, they were in each other’s bodies so -
“It’s going to be okay,” Barry said firmly, nodding like giving his words emphasis would make them come true. “They’re going to help. It’s going to be fine.”
Len took one of Barry’s hands in his, rubbed his fingers over the callouses he knew all too well. His own skin felt weird under his grasp. Barry’s hands were smooth, unbruised, and likely never would be. He healed too fast for that.
Something was nagging at his gut, not quite the urge to throw up from moments before - though that hadn’t gone away anytime soon - but something close to it. He wondered if he ought to pull away, jerk out of Barry’s reach and stand at the opposite end of the room, far away where he couldn’t touch or even see the other man.
The voices were getting louder, closer by the minute.
“Len.” Barry squeezed his hand, staring down at where their fingers were intertwined. “Trust me.”
I already do. The words were dancing on his tongue, taunting him the more he bit them back, walled off the way out. That’s what scares me.
He made a show of sighing, just to see Barry’s mouth twitch, and tugged their hands closer so their shoulders brushed. “Fine. But no examinations or poking around with any instruments.”
“First off, ew. Now you’re just being gross.” Len smirked and Barry shook his head again, a clear question of why are you like this crossing his face. “Second, what on earth do you think we do here? What would Cisco even poke you with? A wrench?”
“Ramon isn’t the one who’ll do the poking. He’s too scared to.”
“He’s not scared - okay, maybe a little - but only because you keep threatening him about Lisa.” Len shrugged because, well, that was fair. And necessary. “But he will poke you for...science purposes.”
“And your frosty friend won’t?”
Barry shut his eyes. “Caitlin’s not going to hurt you, Len.”
“Didn’t say she was.”
“And that’s clearly why you’re worrying about this.”
“I’m not worrying,” Len protested, letting go of Barry’s hand. “But I know how touchy your friends are, Barry, and we’re not here to be prodded like science experiments.”
“Well, we kind of - ”
“We’re not experiments.”
Barry grimaced but conceded the point silently. “Okay, but what if they need to look at our DNA? We don’t know how the meta can do what she can, and we don’t know who else has been affected so far, so we’re Caitlin’s best bet and figuring out what went wrong. And how this could help in changing us back.”
“And we need some sort of plan so catching her would be best, and we can’t do that yet without a face, so that’s what we should be focusing on first.”
“We need - ” Barry sighed, a long and frustrated one that was bizarre to listen to when it came from his deeper voice. “Why are we talking about this again?”
“I don’t want to be poked.”
“I - no one’s going to poke you, Len!” He didn’t know his voice could go so shrill from indignance. Or maybe it was just a Barry thing.
Someone cleared their throat from the doorway and they both turned to face a very bewildered Cisco and Caitlin. The former looked ready to bolt back out into the hall. Maybe he was concerned they were fighting - or worse, about to make out. Not that Len could blame him. It’d happened many a time before.
Fuck. That was not something he needed to be thinking about when he was -
Cisco raised a hand. “Uh, who’s poking who? Actually, don’t answer that, bad question that I really don’t want the answer to but… Just - why did you need us here?”
“We’re in each other’s bodies and we need to catch the meta who did this,” Len said, ignoring Barry’s embarrassed squawk. Really, he was done with beating around the bush.
Cisco and Caitlin exchanged an unreadable look, though Len was pretty sure they both were no less confused than they’d been a moment ago.
“Are we…” Cisco frowned. “Are we talking a Freaky Friday situation or mind-melding or what? Because the two of you sharing a body is a scary thought. No offense, to whichever of you is Cold.”
Len bared his teeth and he could practically hear Barry grumbling about scaring off his friend in the back of his mind. “None taken.”
Cisco’s eyes widened a fraction. “Oh. So are we - ?”
“Just follow me,” Caitlin said, looking beyond tired already with all of them, a crinkle forming in her forehead the longer she studied Len and Barry with scrutiny that would’ve made Lisa proud. “I have a feeling we’ll have a lot to talk about. And it’s been a long night as it is.”
***
In retrospect, cornering the meta had been Len’s fault. And not because of any heroic impulses Barry claimed he’d influenced, because that was not his intention. At all.
At the time, he’d been more frustrated, ironically, because he hadn’t wanted their evening ruined by a goddamn amateur thief when they were supposed to be having a nice night out. Len hadn’t been spat out of time and space itself just to watch criminals giggle and hoist bags over their shoulders like cartoon characters and try to sprint into the nearest alleyway and hide from the cops.
(Yes, seriously. Who did this woman think she was? Who does that in real life, in broad day - well, nighttime, he supposed?)
Neither of them had predicted that she’d see them coming, no suits and all, and snap her fingers, eyes pulsing a deep blue that reminded him eerily of the Oculus.
And then everything had spun and gone black and Len awoke to Barry murmuring a faint “Oh, fuck” near his ear.
***
Caitlin, thankfully, was the most level-headed person in S.T.A.R. Labs right now.
Cisco took the time to burst out laughing the first time Caitlin brought out her tools and Len automatically scowled at the sight. He tried not to feel betrayed when Barry pursed his lips in a hasty attempt not to follow suit.
Worse, Cisco found the whole situation both enthralling and amusing. The amount of teasing he’d heard having to do with movie references was truly astounding and he wasn’t sure whether threatening to shoot his boyfriend’s friend in the foot was a good way to end the joking. But boy, was he tempted.
He could tell it was difficult for Cisco to keep track of who was who as well. Not that it wasn’t hard for Caitlin either, but Cisco kept turning to Len as if to share a sarcastic comment or inside joke with him before freezing and doing a double take at Len’s glower.
(Len found it amusing, even if the numerous times it had happened was...truly excessive. He joked to Barry often about how close he was with his friends, but having to shy away from Cisco’s half-spoken jokes was weird. Maybe because he was used to Mick’s silence and Lisa’s outright teasing, the nagging that needed no reference for him to parse through.)
The doctor, however, just asked him in blunt terms to sit still while she checked their vitals and examined them, no prodding necessary for the most part. Len relayed the story at least four times to them both, with Barry chiming in the first couple of times to add in details about the woman’s face and where they’d cornered her. Or, attempted to.
Len made a mental note to get Caitlin a fruit basket later, when this whole dilemma was solved.
“You both are healthy and fine,” Caitlin informed them nearly two hours later, which made Barry relax a little, shoulders slumping. If she found the sight of Captain Cold leaning back against the wall, stripped down his Henley and jeans, discomforting, she gave no indication. “There’s hardly any trace of what this meta did to you in your bodies.”
“But there is a trace,” Len pressed.
“Yes.” Caitlin pointed to the screen on her tablet and Barry leaned forward alongside Len to get a closer look. “There appears to be some unusual activity in your brains, but that is probably just from the bodyswap itself. Not any further trauma it may be causing.”
“That’s...a relief.”
“But there’s no way to fix it?” Barry’s brow furrowed as he glanced between his friends and the tablet.
Cisco and Caitlin looked at each other again and Len wanted to roll his eyes at how obvious they were being, if Barry didn’t look so disappointed next to him.
Right. What was Central City without a few abnormalities in your day-to-day life?
Even if it meant switching bodies with your speedster boyfriend. Possibly permanently.
A spike of panic struck him but Len shoved the feeling down, locked it in an airtight safe deep in his gut and made sure it never saw the light of day, breathing deep through his nose. No use in freaking out. Panic would get them nowhere.
“It looks like these traces of dark matter - since that’s my best guess at what they resemble - will fade with time. Unfortunately, that time could be a couple of hours or weeks. The best thing we can do - ”
An alarm blared in the Cortex and Barry stiffened beside him. Cisco was already rushing back out there to check on the alert by the time Len got to his feet. The lack of pain in his joints was another bizarre thing he couldn’t help but feel grateful and uneasy about.
Cisco swore out loud and Caitlin sent him a look, but the engineer’s grimace told of nothing good.
“Uh… So. What would you say if I told you that, uh - well - ”
“Spit it out,” Len hissed through his teeth, and something must’ve alarmed him in Len’s expression because Cisco visibly winced.
“Um, Peek-a-Boo and Piper are robbing First Central City Bank?”
Of course they were.
Len could feel Barry and Caitlin’s eyes on him without turning. Cisco’s grimace was becoming a pleading half-smile more and more by the second.
Why -
Oh.
Oh no.
“Absolutely not.”
“They’re robbing a bank!” Cisco cried, spreading his arms like that was all the excuse he needed to weasel Len into this mess.
“Not my problem.”
“Actually…” Barry didn’t shy away from Len’s glare, something pulling at his face that looked suspiciously like amusement. “It kind of is.”
“Now is not the time for a heroic speech, Barry.”
“It’d look weird if I showed up to stop them like this!”
“Snow and Ramon can do it.”
Caitlin’s eyebrows flew to her hairline. “Frost doesn’t come out on command.”
“And Barry’s powers are the best for dealing with both of them,” Cisco chimed in. “I’m not popping up all over the bank just to chase down Peek-a-Boo, sorry.”
“I haven’t spent more than five hours in your body,” Len reminded Barry. He didn’t like the way the other was starting to smile. “And you expect me to be able to master your speed in two minutes?”
“It’s not that hard.” Caitlin and Cisco snorted in unison and Len watched in mild amazement as Barry’s cheeks started to color. Huh. Blushing looked weird on him - on Len’s face, he meant - never mind. “Okay, it’s not too hard. Besides, we’ll be here over the comms to help you! And if you really need help, Cisco can portal his way on over.”
Cisco huffed. “I mean, I guess…”
“Barry.” Len’s eyes narrowed when Barry pouted. The brat, he knew what he was doing. “I’m not - ”
“We don’t know how long we’re going to be like this. I know they’re your Rogues and you’re as frustrated as I am but please? Think of it as practice.”
“Practice.”
The gleam in Barry’s eyes was a little familiar, mischievous enough to give him pause. “For...you know. Later things.”
“Later things,” Len repeated once more, unperturbed by the way Barry sidled closer.
“I mean, we don’t know how long we’re going to be like this. And you know your Rogues better than anyone. Shouldn’t be too hard to scare them off and, I don’t know, come back.”
“Come back.”
Barry’s smile took on a decidedly more appreciative curl to the corners of his lips. “This could be fun, you know.”
Oh.
Len could see Cisco pretend to gag behind Barry’s back and Caitlin rolled her eyes, walking over to the engineer and the set-up for the comms, deliberately not looking their way. Barry didn’t have the decency to look embarrassed despite the flush forming slowly but surely on his cheeks.
He wasn’t sure what to do about that implication. Sure, it was a little tempting, but with how disoriented they were in each other’s bodies already and the prospect of taking over Flash duties…
Barry’s amusement was beginning to look more like a plea.
Damn heroes.
“One time,” Len ground out. “Just this once.”
Barry immediately beamed - of course he’d been planning that whole spiel, Len only had himself to blame for encouraging it - and nodded toward the Flash suit across the Cortex.
“Of course. Just this once.”
***
Once turned into twice, which turned into a “please, Len” and -
Well, Len had donned the Flash suit every day for the past week. And counting, since there seemed to be no end in sight for a cure and tracking down the meta who had done this to them proved nearly impossible. Even Cisco’s handy satellite was of no use, despite their descriptions of the woman and the alerts he’d programmed to hopefully pick up her signature somewhere in the city. The thought that she might’ve already skipped town nagged at Len and he had to banish it quickly to stifle the bubble of panic that came with it.
Len liked control. He liked having control over variables and what happened during every move of a heist or mission. If he didn’t know or plan for inconsistencies, he was no better than an amateur criminal trying his luck for the first time.
Being a speedster was…
It was nothing like having control.
He might have relished the surge of lightning in his veins, how his breath caught every time time slowed to a crawl around him, the smug sense of being faster than anyone alive - too fast to catch, fast enough to skip town with all the money in the bank if he really wanted. There was something surreal about the whole idea of getting to move in the blink of an eye, of holding all that power he’d watched firsthand years ago. Back then, he might’ve used it to his advantage; having the Flash under his thumb was what he’d wanted, after all.
Of course, that was before he met the man under the mask, before he’d somehow begun dating him. Things were different now.
And if Len ran face-first into another wall, he was going to lose it.
“A little off your game today, aren’t you, Flash?” Hartley taunted across the bank, one hand on his stolen cash and the other outstretched to emit another sonic wave. Len had no idea where Shawna was, probably hiding in the shadows so she could slip out with Hartley any minute now. He’d given up on nabbing her the moment she vanished upon seeing Len.
Not that Hartley was any fucking easier to pin down. Len never wanted to be on the receiving end of Hartley’s gauntlets again.
This was the third time this week that he and Peek-a-Boo had planned a heist in the middle of the night, and the second time they’d struck the same bank. Maybe he needed to have a chat with his Rogues when - well, if he ever regained his body, about not striking off on their own.
It didn’t help that both of them seemed endlessly amused by his incompetence as a speedster, perhaps more entertained than the team at S.T.A.R. Labs was if their muffled snorts every time he went out were enough indication.
“Didn’t anticipate an impromptu stroll through Central City’s finest bank,” Len shot back, allowing his frustration to leak into his smirk. “Then again, I’ve heard it’s quieter at night.”
“Would be quieter if you weren’t crashing into every wall in the building. What, legs giving out on you already? Had a rough week?” Hartley looked far too smug, his own smirk more playful than Len had the energy for. Cisco muttered something over the comms about snarky asshats. Len couldn’t blame him. “You’ve seemed a little off lately.”
“No need to worry.” Len sped forward and dodged at the last minute as Hartley released another sonic blast, hands skimming the bank teller window before it shattered. He forced himself to take a deep breath, concentrate as he swept around Hartley, kicking out at the kid’s knees to send him sprawling face-first onto the floor. He wasn’t aiming to kill him, after all (though, he was petty enough to consider it payback for finishing off the last of their doughnuts at the safe house last week). “Just been a bit busy for playtime to give you the cold shoulder.”
Hartley squawked as he scrambled out of the way of Len’s feet, the money skittering a few feet away across the floor. That splotchy red mark taking up most of his face wasn’t going away anytime soon.
Or, it might’ve been from embarrassment. Hartley had been insufferable before all of these heists, whining and grumbling about something involving his parents. Maybe the bank jobs were some sort of late act of teenage rebellion.
Axel would’ve been proud.
Someone scoffed behind him and Len didn’t turn fast enough - an ironic statement that he drew no pleasure from - to avoid the punch to the face, managing to hit the ground with his knees instead of his face like Hartley, at least. His right eye ached, though, and he could hear Barry asking about him over the comms.
“Really?” He glanced up, ready to run, but Shawna just stared at him, a strange mixture of disgust and exasperation dawning on her features. “Are Cold’s puns rubbing off on you?”
Oh. Perhaps he’d been too obvious.
Hartley rolled his eyes, still disgruntled at being knocked down, and he moved for the money. “That’s not all they’re doing.”
Barry went quiet in his ear and someone, maybe Cisco, let out what sounded like a nervous laugh. Len schooled his expression to one he hoped looked similar to Barry’s wide-eyed disbelief and ignored the way his chest tightened.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Shawna’s eyes narrowed for a moment, darting between Hartley and Len and he saw the recognition light up her face, hands going slack on her own stolen goods. “Wait - really? I thought you were joking about that earlier with Rory and - ”
“Oh, definitely not.” Hartley pushed to his feet and grimaced. “I mean, come on! Have you seen the way they fight?”
“I don’t - ”
“If you two really wanted to keep your whole affair secret,” Hartley continued, talking right over Len, “at least try and be subtle. It’s bad enough that we get to hear the puns on Cold’s end.”
Shawna groaned. “Oh, don’t remind me.”
“I think there’s been a misunderstanding,” Len said through gritted teeth.
“No, now that you mention it, it makes perfect sense.” Shawna eyed Len for a moment, as if she were sizing him up. “I mean, he could do better but…”
“This is awkward,” Cisco muttered. “Please just arrest them.”
“You’re awkward?” Len winced at how loud Barry’s voice got over the comms.
Shawna tilted her head. “Well, I guess if he had to be with anyone - ”
Len darted toward her but she was already disappearing, smoke swirling around her as she vanished. He snatched the bag from Hartley’s grasp and knocked him flat on his ass again. Which had absolutely nothing to with the current conversation.
“That’s just rude,” Hartley said.
“And I don’t see how this is relevant to you robbing a bank.” Len hoisted him up and cuffed him before he could say another word. He didn’t bother with the gauntlets; the cops were almost here and they both knew the Rogues were going to escape. Not that he’d have it any other way.
“Like I said,” Len ducked this time as Shawna materialized behind him, dropping Hartley against the counter as he sped out of the way and nearly hit the wall. Again. “He could do better than a dick like you, Flash.”
Barry grumbled something along the lines of “it’s been years, I apologized!” into the comms. Len chose to ignore it in lieu of not getting punched, grabbing air when he tried to pin down the Rogue.
“Your flattery warms my heart. Truly.”
“But, I guess it makes sense. And he definitely likes you.” He spun around to knock her over when her voice came behind his ear, but Shawna whacked him over the head with her bag of cash, which - rude. He fell to his knees and shook his head to shove away the momentary disorientation. Shawna was already back by Hartley, yanking him close as sirens began blaring outside the bank. Hartley looked more than a little displeased, especially to be abandoning his own cash, but there wasn’t time to argue.
Shawna smirked and wiggled her fingers at Len. “If you see Cold later, tell him we said hi, Flash.”
Len didn’t bother running for them as the pair vanished in a puff of smoke. He could hear the cops shouting feet away from the doors.
“Um…” Cisco coughed, the sound uncomfortably loud in his ear. “Head on back, Snart. Or, there’s a small robbery down the block, if you - ”
“I’m heading back.” Len shut off the comms, closed his eyes and swallowed a growl clawing its way up his throat. No use in trying to stop another crook when he could barely run in a space no bigger than his bedroom. He ran through the doors of the bank as they opened, slipping past the police as they moved like snails around him, mouths half-open and guns ready, and took a lap around the block before he ran toward the Labs.
***
Barry pulled him aside after Len finally got out of the Flash suit - he was starting to understand the whole meaning behind “crime never sleeps”, which was saying something given his profession - and fidgeted in place when Len gave him an expectant look.
“Your sister texted while you were out.”
Len schooled his expression the best he could, but he suspected he didn’t quite succeed. He could only imagine what Len’s casual indifference looked like on Barry’s features.
Probably far less secretive than he wanted.
“What about?”
Barry grimaced. “Your meeting in an hour? With...the other Rogues?”
Shit. He’d forgotten about that.
Lisa insisted on regular meetings with the Rogues, something about keeping up with each other and checking in - something that would’ve seemed sweet to the outside eye, but really, sometimes a check-in was necessary for crooks like Axel and Mardon - despite the fact that they didn’t have any heists planned for the moment, a true blessing given his current state. They did plan heists for meetings more often than not, though, and Lisa had asked him almost exactly a week ago about coming, which meant she wanted him to be there.
Which likely entailed a heist she thought would hold his interest. Yay.
Wait, but that meant -
Len’s dawning horror must’ve shone through because Barry’s grimace was steadily growing tighter and more strained by the minute.
Yes, that would explain the strangely constipated look on Barry’s face.
“No.”
“I already told her you were going!”
“You are not going.”
“Really, Len? Have you even called Lisa and explained this?” Barry gestured wildly between the two of them. “How is she supposed to know anything’s wrong?”
Len exhaled and forced down the growl threatening to creep into his voice. “Lisa doesn’t need to know right now. The last thing we need is too many people sticking their noses into business like this. Especially when neither of us are running at our usual speeds.”
Barry rolled his eyes at the pun, crossing his arms over his chest. “She’s your sister. And it’s just one meeting, how hard can it be? You’ve been out as me for a week now. I’d say being the Flash is infinitely harder.”
Part of Len was inclined to agree but he squashed that sentiment swiftly, like an unwanted insect in the shower.
“You don’t know the first thing about being a criminal, Barry.”
“I’ve had experience - ”
“Sam,” Len said, his drawl growing more nasally as he drew out the name (which sounded very odd in Barry’s voice, honestly), and the other’s cheeks reddened, “doesn’t count. You used your speed and your alibi was so flimsy I could’ve poked literal holes through it if we’d had time.”
“It worked,” Barry grumbled.
“It also nearly got you killed. And you wouldn’t have quick feet this time, just your wits and my gun.”
Lewis’ shot swam before his eyes, Barry twisting and landing face-first on the floor with no preamble, the dark glee on his father’s face as he turned away to continue with the heist. Len found his hands clenching by his sides before he realized what he was doing.
Lewis was dead. It was just a meeting. A meeting with Lisa, of all people, and Mick and the other Rogues. If anyone could keep them in line, it was his baby sister. She certainly wouldn’t let anything happen to him - even if him translated to Barry in this case.
Barry tilted his head and, though Len wasn’t sure why, that hard glare began to thaw. It was easy to recognize the fond gleam in those eyes, even when blue was facing him instead of hazel.
“Hey. I’m going to be fine. Cisco agreed to patch you in over the comms; you’ll be able to talk me through the meeting from here, if you want.”
And there was that. Len glanced toward the Cortex and when he turned back, Barry was inches away, hands flitting toward Len’s as if he wanted to grab hold and murmur reassurances or pull him into a hug.
A frighteningly domestic idea - it spoke volumes that Len couldn’t bring himself to be disgruntled by it.
Probably for the best that he kept those thoughts to himself.
How Barry managed to make his eyes go that wide into that eerily familiar kicked puppy dog look was beyond him. By all rights, he ought to be immune to said pout. This was his face! Captain Cold didn’t pout, and certainly not while trying to hide a very obvious smile and bearing no shame about the affectionate gleam in his eyes.
He hated that it was working on him.
“Lisa is smart,” Len said. He kept his gaze fixed on a point past Barry’s head. “She’ll spot you a mile away, if Mick doesn’t first.”
“Hartley and Shawna didn’t,” Barry pointed out. “Even if they did guess...well, other things.”
“Mick and Lisa already know.”
“Len.” Barry took his hands and waited until Len looked back to him before shaking his head with a small smile. “It’ll be fine. Besides, I roped you into the Flash suit for a week. Think of this as a sort of payback.”
Len rubbed his thumb alongside Barry’s and hummed in quiet agreement. “Payback?”
“Well, I got to watch you race around the city in the suit,” and oh , that wasn’t fondness mirrored back at him, not with that hooded gaze and the way Barry was starting to chew on his lip, which really shouldn’t have been a turn-on when Len was faced with himself, “and you did mention something a few weeks ago… What was that about me in your parka?”
He wetted his lips and Barry’s eyes darted to the movement and darkened. Christ. “Something about having you ride me in it, if I’m remembering correctly.”
“Right.” Barry’s grin turned wolfish as he leaned forward and Len stayed perfectly still as the other’s lips brushed his ear. The grip on his hands lightened, Barry’s fingers sliding away slowly, and it was no accident that they bumped against his hips as they retreated. Something sizzled underneath his skin, and the increasingly familiar adrenaline and electricity started kicking into gear, though thankfully he had a better grasp now to prevent time from stopping like it used to when he first switched bodies. “Who says we can’t try that now?”
Len’s throat went dry. “Got a thing for this body-switching mess, huh?”
“Or maybe I just miss you.”
“...Definitely a thing, then.”
Barry snorted and Len could feel himself starting to smile in turn. “You’re insufferable.”
“Rich, coming from the one who wants to try out some things before we manage to fix this.”
“Well, not right now, but - ”
“Hey, Barr!” Cisco’s voice echoed down the hall and Barry jumped, their heads nearly knocking together had Len not edged backward in time. “I think Caitlin’s got the comms up, you ready to go?”
Barry shut his eyes. “Yeah, uh, be right there.”
“No problem, man!”
A smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth as he watched his boyfriend swallow what was likely a weak grumble toward his friend. Len let his hands slip to Barry’s waist, tapping his fingers on the fabric of his sweater. He could feel the warmth of Barry’s body bleeding through, still running hotter than Len ever had, even without his speed.
“Gonna be able to keep your cool, Flash?”
Barry snorted, but he leaned into Len’s hands without a second of hesitation. “Are you?”
“An excellent middle schooler comeback.”
“Rude,” Barry complained. “You’ve been spending too much time with Cisco. I think I’m scared for the day you two gang up on me.”
“I hardly think a little teasing will kill you,” Len said, and he bit back a chuckle when the comment earned him another low noise, Barry’s forehead falling to his shoulder. “Besides, don’t you remember when Lisa and Iris met up for coffee a month ago?”
Barry shuddered. “I regret ever introducing them in the first place.”
“They still text. I think one of them mentioned meeting up again with us. Maybe even a double date, if my memory serves me right.”
Barry pulled his head up to glare at him. “And you officially killed the mood.”
“Good. The last thing you want is to go into a meeting with the Rogues with blue - ”
“Alright!” Barry backpedaled down the hall, face on its way to resembling the same color as the Flash suit. “That’s enough of that, time to suit up, I’d say. Yep, nothing else to it.”
“You coming, Barry?” Cisco called, oblivious to his friend’s embarrassment.
Len’s grin edged on coy. “Well… ”
Barry made a strangled noise and was already around the corner before Len could follow. “Do not answer that!”
(Len gloated for approximately ten minutes and twenty-two seconds while Cisco showed him how the comms would work from their end in the Cortex. Then Barry walked in, blue parka snug around him, looking utterly at home as he spread his arms and spun on his heel with a smug “How do I look?”
His brain short-circuited a little.
Cisco refused to sit anywhere near him even after Barry left, muttering something about PDA and eye-fucking.)
***
Lisa called him not five minutes after the meeting to yell at him and Barry simultaneously because “A week? A week of no calls, no texts, and I had to find out through your boyfriend while you’re trapped in a Freaky Friday situation that something was even wrong?”
Mick called back two minutes after Lisa to laugh at him and begrudgingly declare Barry “not as much of a pig” as he thought. Which...coming from Mick, was a star-studded compliment.
But mostly he laughed up until Barry made it back to the Labs, red-faced and thoroughly sulky like a toddler who’d lost their favorite toy.
He didn’t say it out loud, but the sight of Barry trudging down the hall gave him a rush of sheer gratitude and relief that he hadn’t felt throughout the whole recon over the comms.
***
“Are you okay?”
Len didn’t turn, kept his eyes on the blueprints sitting on the coffee table as he heard Barry approach. Even in another body, he could hear Barry in his footsteps - a little awkward and heavy-footed, but still him.
It’d been a long night. Mardon had staged a heist with Peek-a-Boo at the museum and Len had had to bear not only the relentless teasing from Shawna, but Mardon’s stunted attempts at romantic advice once he caught on to what Shawna was nagging about. Somehow Len doubted Barry would be into him “stealing Cold’s weight in cash from the bank - don’t worry, I know a guy! And with your speed? You’d be in and out so fast!”
Not to mention the fact that Len had several new bruises from the hail Mardon had decided to cook up, as well as a healing wrist that’d been sprained when he swung himself around a display to avoid a blow to the head. He was starting to get a better grasp on Barry’s speed, but with Cisco and Caitlin still undecided on how to fix them for good, Len was a little impatient, to say the least.
“Peachy.”
Barry sighed. Len felt rather than saw him plop onto the couch beside him, and let Barry lean into his side. His lips twitched involuntarily at how cold the man was.
“Need a blanket?”
“You’re the one who turns the thermostat down to sixty and lower just because he can,” Barry griped. He folded his arms, pushing his hands into his armpits as his knees curled up closer to his chest. The sight reminded Len of Lisa when she was sick and didn’t want Len to worry about her; she used to bury herself in the thickest blankets they had, snapping at him and trying to ward off his shitty attempts at making soup with narrowed eyes filled with contempt.
On Barry, though, the more he huddled in on himself, the more he looked like a petulant child on the verge of a tantrum, utterly miserable and unwilling to budge.
“I know you grew up in the Arctic,” Len snorted and Barry just rolled his eyes, looking away, “but some of us are freezing.”
“You run hot,” Len countered. “And you’re wearing a sweater right now.”
“Neither of which are helping!” Barry threw back his head and groaned as if Len were being the unreasonable one here. Len didn’t point out that he was wearing one of Len’s lighter Henleys, a dark gray that stretched tight over his chest. Was it weird to admire yourself in your own clothes? “I’m also in your body. There’s a reason that cold gun of yours slows me down, asshole.”
“Are you really comparing the apartment to my gun?” He swore he heard a faint voice, far too much like Cisco’s, snap in the back of his mind that it was my gun!
Semantics.
Barry turned toward him, knocking his shoulder into Len’s as he wriggled his way into Len’s side in the process. Len made a point not to move, just watched, more than a little amused, at Barry’s shifting. He did not smile when familiar shorn hair tickled his cheek, the other’s head landing on his shoulder alongside an exaggerated huff.
“Can you please turn it up?”
“I don’t know. I happen to be quite comfortable.”
“Len.” Barry shivered against him, and Len would have called it a dramatic gesture if Barry’s hands weren’t wrapping around his stomach and he couldn’t feel the icy fingers digging into his side like a plea. Besides, much as he liked to tease Barry, there was little need to draw this out when Len could see how truly cold he was.
“I can’t get up to do that if you’re clinging to me like a leech.”
Barry’s eyes swiveled to his, hope flaring. “Yeah?”
“Barry.”
The other groaned a second time, but he did let go long enough for Len to swing himself off the couch, moving to find the thermostat. Len didn’t even complain when Barry latched himself onto Len again the moment he returned, murmuring a quiet thanks against the skin between his neck and collarbone.
All in all, Len considered it a win.
“You still didn’t answer my question.”
Len raised an eyebrow. “What question?”
“Are you okay?”
Len rolled his eyes and looked away, feeling Barry’s gaze on the side of his face. “And I believe I answered. Or, were you too distracted by your cold fingers?”
“Peachy doesn’t mean you’re okay,” Barry said. There was a strange hesitation in his voice that Len didn’t like. “You’ve been irritable for a week now.”
“Can’t imagine why.”
“Is it because of…” Barry sighed. “You know, with Peek-a-Boo and - ”
“No, not - ” Len glanced over and the uncertainty in Barry’s face, barely there but just enough to spark real worry, encouraged him to wrap an arm around the other’s shoulders. “No, Barry, that’s not a problem.”
“I know you didn’t want to tell them. Well, not yet, anyway. But, then again, Mick and your sister are fine with it, right?”
Len remembered the guffaw Mick had let out when Lisa had told him, which then turned into a quick round of questioning from both - mainly Lisa, but the narrow-eyed glare from Mick meant nothing good in his experience and Len knew he wasn’t on nearly as good of terms with Barry. “They’re… they’re fine, yes.”
“Okay.” Barry shifted against his side with a frown. “But Shawna and Hartley seemed… I don’t know if I’d say supportive, but…”
“They’ll be fine too,” Len told him. And really, aside from any teasing he knew the two might not dare say to his face, it wasn’t as if they were going to hurt the Flash over it or care too much overall. The other Rogues, maybe so - he dreaded Mardon ever finding out Barry’s identity, honestly - but they’d all let it go once the novelty wore off.
He wasn’t looking forward to running into the other Rogues and hearing their teasing anytime soon.
“Then why do you look like you want to punch someone?”
It was Len’s turn to frown. “What do you mean?”
Barry snorted. “I didn’t want to say anything, but you’ve nearly taken everyone’s heads off this week.”
“I think you mentioned something like that.”
“No, but, this clearly isn’t about the Rogues or us.” Barry’s expression softened and faint alarm bells started ringing in the back of his head. “I just… It took me a while to get a hold on my powers. Like, a long while. We didn’t find out about how I could phase or throw lightning for nearly a year. It’s understandable that - ”
“I’d rather not hear one of your little pep talks right now.”
“It’s not a bad thing that you can’t control my powers, okay?”
Len stood and pretended he didn’t hear Barry’s huff as he rolled up the blueprints on the table. “No one said it was. Now, if you’ll excuse me - ”
“Then stop beating yourself up over it.”
“I’m not - ” Barry tugged him around and sparks burst off of Len’s skin as the urge to run seized him. He forced himself not to give into the tug in his gut, glaring at Barry when he didn’t let go. A sense of deja vu struck him from a different time and place, in a different body in Saints and Sinners, and the same determination stared back at him, unafraid and unyielding despite the blue it shone through this time.
“Barry - ”
“Just listen to me for a minute?” Len didn’t move and Barry’s shoulders slumped with ill-concealed relief. “Look, I get that you’re frustrated. I do. I just don’t want you to keep being an ass about it, especially not to yourself.”
“Since when was I an ass?”
“You snapped at Cisco to stop shouting in your ear and turned off the comm two days ago,” Barry pointed out. “And then you did the same thing yesterday to me for an hour or so before you turned it back on and apologized.”
Len suppressed a wince. Right. Not his finest moment. “I’m...not used to people chattering away in my ear. Like to stick to my plans, take in my surroundings as I go. It’s hard to think otherwise.”
“I know.” Len must’ve looked surprised because Barry snorted and shook his head, dropping his hand. “I know you, Len. So yeah, I understand why you’re being an ass.”
“Don’t think you do.”
“Really? So you’re not frustrated about trying to figure out my speed and having to fight your own Rogues?”
“No - well, yes, but only because they should know better and this Speed Force is...not easy to control.” Barry mumbled something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like an amused Tell me about it. “But that’s not all of it. I can deal with taking things into the fast lane, even if it’s frustrating.”
Barry’s brow furrowed a little. “Then what is it?”
“For one, I’m trapped in your body and vice versa, and our prescription, according to your doctor, is to ‘wait until it wears off’.”
“Oh. Yeah.” He almost looked disappointed, as if he had only just remembered their predicament. “There’s that.”
Len sucked in a breath, and it took more effort than he wanted to keep his voice even. “And, to make matters worse, it’s hard to sit around and wait or be a good little Samaritan and save the city when I can barely protect myself like this, not to mention you or any of your team, if the need arose. This isn’t a kind of playtime. How would I defend the Labs if it were attacked by, say, Grodd or even my Rogues, if they decided to stage an attack for fun?”
Barry’s gaze softened. “That’s not going to happen.”
“Central City’s full of surprises, you never know.” He didn’t intend to sneer, but the inborn instinct to attack, to snap and hurt lashed out before he could take it back.
“Len, I’m touched that you want to protect me and my friends, but it’s okay. If I recall, you did a fairly good job of defending yourself without powers against a certain speedster.”
“But we’re not ourselves, Barry. You can’t fool my own sister in a meeting with the Rogues, I can’t stop crime. What makes you think - ”
Barry cupped his face in his hands and Len’s words tapered off as Barry knocked their foreheads together gently. He swallowed at the way Barry’s thumbs traced his cheeks, light and barely there.
“Because, like I was trying to say earlier, you’re not alone. I’m not alone. If I had had to save the city without this team, without any support, the Flash would’ve crashed and burned long before anyone knew who I was. You don’t have to protect me because we’re going to protect each other, no matter what body we’re in. We’ve lasted this long, right?”
Len started to protest but a quick shake of Barry’s head dissuaded the notion for the moment. “I know it feels weird. Feeling powerless, even though you have powers now. But not everyone can be saved.”
“Not everyone, hmm?” Len couldn’t help but quip. That sense of deja vu hit him again, murmured words of encouragement and There’s good in you echoing in his mind.
Barry’s smile was rueful. “Sometimes there are...special cases.”
“Or you’re just biased.”
He laughed. “That too. Never said I wasn’t.”
Len’s chest clenched, verging on near-painful the longer he held Barry’s gaze.
“While I appreciate the fact that you want to protect me at all, and don’t even deny it - I see that look on your face - I know that feeling too.” The other’s expression started to dim, something troubled passing across his face. “If we both tried to keep each other out of trouble nonstop, powers or no powers, we’d combust. And I worry about you too, but I have a feeling that if I dogged your every step, you’d ice me yourself.”
Len gave an aborted half-shrug and Barry’s mouth twitched. “And you’d snap and yell yourself hoarse if the situation were reversed.”
“Touché.”
“Alright, I get your point,” Len said. Still, memories of Barry on the floor, unmoving and not fidgeting with restless energy, haunted the recesses of his mind. The thought that it could happen again, while they were disoriented and Barry didn’t know the criminals of Central City like he did -
Barry’s expression was starting to drop again and Len tried to push back those thoughts. It was only natural, he conceded. Got an investment in keeping “myself” safe alongside Barry.
That lie didn’t settle nearly as well as he wanted in his gut.
Really, though, his insides were churning like the waters of a hurricane, and yeah, he was uncomfortable but that hardly accounted for -
Barry stumbled forward, almost taking Len down with him as he exhaled shakily, one hand flying to his temples to rub the skin there. “I… What…”
Len had no more than a second to register the feeling as very familiar - kind of like the nausea from when they were first switched - before he found himself staggering backward, the back of his knees hitting the couch cushions, and everything went black.
***
Everything was blurry, swimming before his eyes in a haze. His legs were bent at an awkward angle on the ground (no, the floor, when had he fallen to the floor?) and while he tried to blink away the sluggishness clinging to his senses, he twisted around to try and get a better look at his surroundings.
Hard edges, dark wood - ah, coffee table, right. But he hadn’t remembered falling -
Someone groaned above him and he realized a familiar socked foot was twitching by his head. His eyes followed up the leg, up the arms moving so hands could run through thick strands of hair and rub at his face and -
“Len?” Barry asked, and the uncanny softness, the rightness of the tone and the utter confusion reflected on his face, made Len’s heart swell in ways he didn’t think was possible.
He breathed out, shaky and slow as he watched Barry squirm for a moment, his own vision returning little by little. Gosh, even his little movements were a sight for sore eyes.
“Where…?”
“Down here.” Len’s voice came out croaky, like he hadn’t used it in weeks. Which was pretty accurate, now that he thought about it.
It took Barry a long minute to focus on Len, his eyes a bit glazed over despite how much he was rubbing at them. Must be a side effect from the meta’s powers, Len reasoned, though he didn’t remember feeling nearly as disoriented visually.
Then again, the nausea should’ve been the first sign something was up.
Barry let out a strange noise, somewhere between a laugh and a squawk. “You… Len, we’re - ”
“Ourselves?” He pushed himself upright against the coffee table, wincing as his bones creaked at the effort. Ah, how he didn’t miss that. “I can see that.”
Barry still looked awed. He held up a hand and they both watched as it began to vibrate. “Huh.”
“Seems everything’s back to normal.”
“Yeah.” Barry dropped his hand and ran the other through the back of his hair. “I guess Cait was right. We just needed to wait.”
“Could’ve worked a little faster.”
Some of that awe diminished. Barry got down on the carpet to meet Len’s eyes, their shoulders knocking as he moved to kneel over Len. With his legs on either side of Len’s hips, quite a few sly remarks rose to mind, but Barry was already giving him a knowing, exasperated look.
“Told you everything would be okay.”
Len smirked. It wasn’t as sharp as Captain Cold’s usual sneer; he blamed Barry’s growing, fond smile. “Nearly two weeks in each other’s bodies doesn’t seem like an okay time.”
“You can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy having powers. Or getting to stop bad guys rather than working with them.”
“Getting punched by Baez was the highlight of my week, yes,” Len said flatly.
Barry rolled his eyes. “I’m being serious, Len.”
“So am I. That woman knows how to throw a good punch.”
“Uh huh. Sure.”
“And you did get to get yelled at by my sister.”
“Now you’re just being mean.” The corners of Barry’s eyes crinkled as he tried to hide a laugh. Len reached out and tugged Barry closer by the back of his neck. “Besides, I think Lisa was yelling more at you than me. I told you you should’ve called her.”
“Wasn’t important at the time,” Len dismissed.
“I think Lisa would disagree.”
“Lisa didn’t switch bodies with her boyfriend.”
“She’d probably enjoy it a lot more too.”
Len didn’t doubt it. The idea of Lisa calling up Cisco and -
Nope. Definitely not entertaining that thought for more than a moment, not even.
Though, now that Barry mentioned it...
“Well, if you want to argue, we can. Or…” He tugged again on the hairs at Barry’s nape, and seeing Barry’s slight shudder sent heat pooling in his gut. “We could make good on all those promises you’ve been making.”
His boyfriend’s smile sharpened. “Oh, I see. Now you’re interested.”
“Who said I wasn’t before?”
"You know, we're going to have a serious conversation about this, right? About those feelings and everything." Barry started to shake his head at Len's antics, that exasperation peeking through, but Len let his free hand trail up Barry’s side, knuckles rubbing against familiar smooth skin as the sweater rode up his stomach, and he didn’t bother hiding his amusement at the speedster’s breath stuttered. It was so good to see Barry’s pupils darken and widen in front of him.
"Of course." Len tilted his head and waited another moment, admiring the torn look staring back at him. He leaned forward to brush the shell of Barry’s ear, a mimicry of Barry’s own tactic not too long ago. Len allowed his smirk to stretch into a smile when the scent of ozone crackled through the space between them. He didn’t have to see the other’s face to know a certain flicker of yellow was making its presence known under Barry’s skin, in his heated stare, sparking off his flesh.
“Bedroom, then, Flash?”
Barry snorted at his drawl but he hardly had a chance to blink before a gut-wrenching whirlwind of electricity was sweeping them both off their feet - in a manner of speaking - and he found himself on his back on cotton sheets, a shit-eating grin less than a millimeter from his as their lips brushed just so.
“Thought you’d never ask.”