Cisco has joined the trio for an outing and a cone of ice cream. Now he wishes they'd get a room.
//Barry can eat ice cream most suggestively.
When the trio joined him again, he had already secured a table, so they flopped down opposite of Cisco. Heat Wave – or Mick, as Barry insisted he call him now – was carrying their cones, three generous scoops for Barry, likely the sweetest and creamiest flavours they had, another three scoops of something fruity for Captain Cold and a whole tower of ice cream scoops on a cone for the man himself. He handed them out accordingly after they sat down, and even though he didn‘t even use his speed Barry had gone through his treat before Cisco had even finished the first of his scoops.
He leaned against Rory and blinked up at him with puppy eyes, causing the big man to growl. What Barry saw in him, Cisco had no idea, but Barry was clearly smitten with his two criminals. Not that Cisco would mind having two such men for himself as well, just… maybe not criminals who pretended they didn‘t have feelings. And criminals who stole his guns.
„Hey, can I have some?“ Barry asked now, clearly eyeing Rory‘s ice cream and earning nothing but a deathly glare.
„No.“
Barry responded to the rebuttal with an angelic smile and leaned in, licking a stripe up all the scoops of ice cream in one long stroke. „Hmm“ he hummed with a blissed out face, and Rory seemed to stop functioning for a moment. Then he eyed Barry again and held out his cone, watching as Barry placed a hand on his big paw and swiped his tongue up the ice cream again in a rather suggestive manner.
„I guess you can have some after all“ Rory grumbled then, but even Cisco could detect the fondness in his voice as he tilted his cone so Barry could lick it more easily.
„Oh come on, get a room“, Cisco groaned, unable to hide his words in his ice cream completely.
„Why, Ramon, not much of a voyeurist?“ That familiar drawl from Snart still sent shivers up Cisco‘s spine, but with him it was easier to see that he really cared for Barry. He might be an asshole and a criminal, but he seemed to have his frozen heart in the right spot, at least.
Didn‘t hurt that Cisco maybe had a tiny little crush on his sister, either.
„No, Snart, I‘d rather not watch you three use ice cream as a sex toy“ he gave back, but that only caused Snart to chuckle and tap Barry‘s shoulder. As soon as Barry had turned around he held out his own ice cream with a gentle smile that he only ever gave his two boyfriends.
„Do you want some of mine as well, Scarlet?“
Obviously, Barry didn‘t need any more invitation than that, leaning in to give Snart‘s ice cream a generous lick as well while still having his hand wrapped around Rory‘s paw, securing the treat within arm‘s reach like that.
„Ohhh, yours is yummy too!“ he exclaimed and went in for another lick even with his mouth still half full of ice cream.
„Barry...“, Cisco murmured, shaking his head. He had come out with them for some chatting, maybe some nerding around with Barry, and the free ice cream. But definitely not to see his best friend getting ice-cream-fucked in front of his eyes.
„What?“ Barry turned to him, all puppy eyes and smeared remnants of ice cream around his mouth.
„It‘s so delicous!“
The thing about Barry was that while both his boyfriends were basically already undressing him with their eyes, he could still think this was all about eating ice cream. Or maybe he only pretended that he didn‘t know what was going on but he was a really good actor. Sometimes Cisco couldn‘t really tell.
As he nursed his own ice cream he watched Barry devour both Snart and Rory‘s as well, only allowing them a few licks each before starting to wriggle around and make puppy eyes at them again. He was like a little child sometimes, but the criminals indulged him with what seemed like endless patience to Cisco.
Maybe they really were more good for Barry than Cisco had initially thought. Barry needed someone who showed him that patience and care and spoiled him, Cisco knew that. He was just surprised to find those qualities in two of the most wanted criminals around.
„I bet it is, but you could eat it a bit less suggestively“, Cisco grumbled, earning a wordless glare from Rory that promised him death should he ruin Barry‘s mood. Cisco gave him an uneasy smile and turned back to a very confused Barry.
„Why suggesstively? It‘s ice cream, I‘m licking it. It‘s not even popsicles.“ And with that, he leaned back in to get the next mouthful of the sweet, cold treat.
Cisco was left to just shake his head and wish for them to get a room. But then, it was also great to see Barry his careless and happy and in the moment, not thinking about the future or the mistakes of his past or the losses he‘d had, but just enjoying a moment with his boyfriends.
„You know...“ Snart grabbed Barry‘s chin and turned it towards himself to wipe up some ice cream from around his mouth, then sticking his finger in his mouth and licking it clean.
He had nice fingers. Really, really nice fingers.
Stop it, Cisco. You‘re into his sister. That is Barry‘s boyfriend, don‘t even dream of it.
„You should totally get us some new ice cream, you‘re eating all of ours“ he complained, indicating the last piece of his cone that just disappeared into Barry‘s mouth as if to prove a point. „Now I‘m still hot and didn‘t have anything to cool down. And poor Mick still hasn‘t had his sugar rush.“
In response, Barry simply giggled at him and leaned in to kiss him, then turned around to kiss a rather grumpy looking Rory before there was a red blur and a crackling of electricity and both Snart and Rory had a brand new cone in their hands again.
Cisco was just finishing his own ice cream and watched Barry settle himself against Rory who absently wrapped one arm around him while devouring his ice cream – Barry seriously seemed to be done for now – when Snart spoke up again.
„So, Cisco… what exactly are your intentions with my sister?“
When your soulmate touches your soulmark, it comes to life. Len and Mick both have one still and one moving soulmark.
//sweet fluff, bring a toothbrush to prevent rotten teeth.
Soulmarks were always something really private. It took Len years and years to see Mick‘s, even after he long since suspected that they might be soulmates. But it wasn‘t something you just went around and showed people. Especially not when their soulmarks were like Len‘s. Because you see, Leonard Snart had two soulmarks. One a fiery orange and yellow, a flame that looked like it just wanted to start dancing, the other a striking golden flash. Each of them sat on one of his collarbones, and each of them was the mark of one of his soulmates. He‘d never been sure whether he should see it as a curse or a blessing, really. It was rare enough for someone to find their one soulmate, how could he ever hope to find two? And what if one soulmate he found would not share his second soulmate? Maybe it would be better to not find them at all.
And so he had hardened himself, shut himself off from anything that would open his heart to other people, and pushed everyone away that had tried to slip past his defenses.
Then there was Mick. Mick, who was as cold and distant as himself and even more abrasive. Mick, who pushed other people away even more firmly and still managed to sneak into Len‘s cold dead heart without even wanting it.
Mick, who upon touching it made the flame on his right collarbone come to live, made it move and flicker and dance and warm him ever since.
Mick, whose own ice crystal upon his right collarbone turned into a little flurry of snow when Len touched it, coming to life with the touch of the soulmate.
Mick, who just like Len sported a golden flash on his left collarbone, still and yet untouched.
It had been like this for years, and both Mick and Len had slowly given up on the thought of maybe finding their third partner still. It was already a miracle that they had found each other, how could they hope to find someone who would be able and wanting to bear both of them?
But lately, he had been starting to wonder. If maybe there could be a happy ending for them after all. They had found each other, but they knew and felt that a piece was still missing. But maybe, just maybe, their golden flash could be within arm‘s reach?
What they had going with Barry Allen had been going on for a while already. Barry seemed to feel drawn to them, and they to him. They usually ended up in a dark side alley, or the loo of some pub, but sometimes they also made it back to their flat. Those were the times that Len enjoyed the most.
He loved it when Barry stayed for a bit after the sex, laughing with them or just lounging around. But inevitably, he‘d always get up and leave, pulling on his pants almost embarrassedly. And just like Mick and Len, he always, always left his shirt on so they wouldn‘t see his soulmark. Len wondered who could ever deserve the wonderful sunshine that was Barry Allen. Barry Allen, who was also the Flash.
Sometimes he liked to daydream, when they got together with Barry while he was wearing his suit, what it would be like if the flash on Barry‘s suit would correlate with the flash on Mick and his collarbones. But it couldn‘t be, really. They couldn‘t deserve someone as amazing as Barry. He had to be meant for someone else.
But then, one night, it just happened. Mick had Barry pressed into the bed, growling as he pounded into him. Len was next to them, watching as he touched himself. Barry clung to Mick, holding on to his shirt for dear life when one of Mick‘s thrusts jostled him so much that Mick‘s shirt slipped. And revealed a little snowy flurry and a golden flash.
Barry immediately froze, staring. And then he very, very carefully reached out, his hand inching ever closer to Mick‘s skin. Before long he was caressing Mick‘s collarbone, and his fingertips ever so slighthly ghosted over the golden flash.
And the golden flash turned into a little crackle of electricity under his fingers, dancing over Mick‘s collarbone to the same silent music that the snowflakes fell on his other side.
Barry turned to Len, tears shining in his eyes as he reached out to him as well. Len leaned forward, allowing Barry to pull up his shirt and take it off completely, revealing a dancing flame on one side and a golden flash on the other.
And once more Barry brought the flash to life with a simple touch of his hand.
He looked at both of them then, almost choking as he uttered a barely audible „Please.“
But that was all that Mick and Len needed, and soon Barry was bared before them, two soulmarks standing out starkly on his collarbones. A yellow and orange flame, poised to start dancing the moment of the soulmate‘s touch, and an icy blue snowflake.
Len would be damned if he would ever let Barry leave their bed again.
After all, they were a perfect match. Soulmates. And they had lost too much to not hold on for what was meant for them, all three of them.
Mick and Len both reached out at the same time and carefully caressed Barry‘s soulmarks, bringing them to life at the same moment. There was a full body shudder going through the younger man and he reached up, pulling them both down at the same time, squishing all three off them together, but somehow none of them seemed to mind the sudden closeness and tangle of limbs. Mick got dislodged from where he was still inside Barry as they all started to laugh, and it felt so freeing. Len couldn‘t remember the last time he had simply laughed, without a care in the world. But now he had both his soulmates with him, and he was finally whole.
Later that night they were all snuggled up in their bed, Barry in the middle so both Mick and Len could revel in having their new addition next to them and in their arms. And it would also prevent Barry from leaving, even though Len was sure that he didn‘t actually want to leave tonight for once.
„I always thought you two were soulmates“ Barry told them, placing his hand on top of Mick and Len‘s linked ones on his chest. „Always wondered why you were accepting a third. I thought you were just curious, or maybe wanted to be edgy. I didn‘t let myself hope that maybe… maybe you‘d be my fire and ice.“
Barry, Len and Mick are under covers. Quite literally.
//hurt/comfort, with discussion of Len’s failure to get back to Mick in time to prevent Chronos.
Barry blinked into conciousness again when he heard the door click shut quietly, but just a bit louder than it had to. He smiled to himself, knowing that his lovers were home. They always made a point of closing the door audibly when they got home, so Barry wouldn‘t get suspicious at someone suddenly entering his house. After all, it wasn‘t like he got to see them terribly often anymore. Most of the time, they were off travelling on the Waverider after all, and even if they always tried to come back to the time closest to when they‘d last left Barry, it would often be a few weeks or even months after they had left. A few treasured times they‘d managed to land a day or two after they had left, and Barry had been overjoyed.
Now, he hadn‘t seen them for about two months, but Len had messaged him earlier, telling them that they were on their way to 2016 for family visiting time. They‘d only be able to stay a couple of days, as usual, and Barry was looking forward to it. He always missed them so much when they were gone.
Len had told him what had happened to Mick, that he‘d been taken captive and turned into Chronos, but that he was back now and safe with them on the Waverider. He‘d also confined in Barry that he was worried about their fiery lover, who woke up from nightmares more often than not and was upset and broody, but wouldn‘t let anyone near enough to help. Not even Len.
So Barry had prepared, of course. Mick needed some extra love while he was home this time, that much was clear. He had recalled a conversation from several months earlier – by Barry‘s measurement, at least – where they had talked about their respective childhoods, and Barry had told them about the blanketforts that Iris and he used to build. It turned out that neither Len or Mick had ever built one, let alone be inside one, and both of them had scoffed at the notion of building one now that they were adults. But Barry knew his lovers, knew how they always tossed anything aside that had to do with Feelings, even if deep in their own hearts they may actually crave it.
Which was why Barry was now slowly sitting up in a very luxurious blanketfort, filled with pillows and more blankets and even a few stuffed toys. Just outside, there was a tray with three mugs of hot chocolate – with mini marshmallows, of course. They were in a stasis to stay warm, as the tray was some piece of tech from the Waverider that Len had swiped and gifted to Barry last year for Christmas. Cisco had gone crazy over it, naturally, and it had been a few weeks before Barry had seen it again. Now he loved it, to put his tea or coffee on while he was working, or when he had to run suddenly, and he knew he‘d not come home to a cold cup of tea ever again.
He poked his head out of the blanketfort just as Len and Mick entered the room, and it struck him how grumpy and old Mick looked. The poor man must‘ve been through hell, and Barry hadn‘t even been there to help him. At least he‘d had Len, he thought as he pushed himself up to his feet and rushed over to them, throwing an arm around each of them and burying his face between their necks.
„I‘m so happy you‘re home“ he whispered, squeezing them as tightly as he could for the few moments that they‘d allow it. But somehow, this time, instead of pushing him away after a couple of seconds they both actually just pulled him in tighter, holding on to him for much longer than was customary for them.
Len was the first one to pull away in the end, looking at Barry with a somewhat vexed look. „I made a mistake“ he whispered, backing away slowly. But before Barry had time to figure out what that could even mean, Mick pulled him back in, glaring at him angrily.
„Don‘t you fucking dare leave again“ he hissed. But then he spotted the hot chocolate and left Barry and Len standing where they were, going over to the tray with a delighted look on his face.
„Finally. Hot chocolate with enough sugar in it!“ he exclaimed and drowned his mug in one go before eyeing the blanketfort. „What‘s this, Red?“
Barry could tell that someone was wrong between the two of them, especially with the way that Len was studiously looking anywhere but Mick, and Mick seemed to only spare fiery glares for Len. He sighed and shook his head. He really didn‘t want to deal with one of their lover‘s spats now.
„It‘s a blanketfort. I thought you deserved to finally be in one, we can just curl up in there and cuddle. It sounded like you could need some good downtime“ he explained as he walked over and held the flap open. Unsurprisingly, it only took Mick a few seconds to give in before he crawled inside, tossing out his shoes and jeans before wriggling between the blankets. Len took longer to join them, and he carefully disrobed down to his underwear and shirt before he even came in. He settled down on Barry‘s other side without a word, but didn‘t even snuggle up to the speedster.
Barry knew when someone was blaming himself, he did it often enough. He also could tell when someone else was blaming that person as well, he remembered Cisco blaming him for Dante‘s death just as much as he himself did. So despite his need for harmony and comfortable relationship time, there was really only one thing he could do.
„Alright, guys. Spill.“
There was only silence for a few heartbeats, but then Len started explaining what had happened, very quietly, much more subdued that Barry had ever heard him before.
And he was right.
He had fucked up. Badly. Really badly.
„I understand if you‘ll both want me to… retreat from this arrangement“ he whispered in the end, and Barry could hear how much it pained him to say that.
When neither of them spoke, he slowly started to draw away and sit up, clearly thinking that yes, they both wanted to break up with him. Barry was still flabbergasted, torn between shouting at Len about how he could possibly leave Mick behind like that, and understanding that in that moment, it was all he could have done, and knowing that Len would always, always come back for Mick. He‘d never abandon him. But Mick had been hurt so badly…
In the end, it was Mick who made the decision for him then, by reaching out and dragging Len back down. „Don‘t hurt Barry as well, Snart“, he growled, and they both knew he meant business when he referred to Barry by his actual name instead of a nickname.
So Len settled down again, tears in his eyes that for once he didn‘t even try to hide. Barry shuffled, wrapping an arm around each of them and pulling them close. Len was still stiff at his side, resting his head against Barry‘s shoulder, but Mick went easily, curling up so his head was lying on Barry‘s chest.
„You should try that hot chocolate later, Snart“ he grumbled. „Red put extra mini marshmallows on one mug for you.“
Barry assumed that was code for „I still love you even though I‘m incredibly mad at you and want to wring your neck“, and he hoped that it meant that they‘d be okay. He knew that he didn‘t want to be without them, that he loved them both so dearly. And Len had fucked up, and badly, but he knew he was trying to make amends now, and that he blamed himself even more than Mick blamed him.
People made horrible mistakes sometimes, he knew that. The question was only, could they move on from it and be better in the future, or would it break them? Barry vowed to make sure that it would be the former.
In the end, it was almost like he had wanted it to be, the three of them cuddled up under the covers, wrapped around one another for a nap. Mick was snoring into his shoulder, his arm thrown over Barry‘s chest. Len was resting one hand on Mick‘s wrist, his face buried in Barry‘s neck to stifle the quiet sobs that Barry pretended not to notice. He gently rubbed Len‘s back as he slowly cried himself to sleep, and only then did he allow himself to drift off as well, safe and sound in his favourite spot on earth, between the two men he loved.
And even if it wasn‘t all rosy and paradise right now, he knew that somehow, they‘d be okay.
Len and Mick are breaking into the precinct to steal a piece of evidence back from the police. Too bad that the CSI they're going to threaten has a jawdroppingly cute bubble butt.
//sweet fluff, because we all know that Len and Mick can never resist Barry.
They knew he liked working late, way after everyone else had already gone home. So they waited until it was late and snuck in under the cover of darkness. Nothing like the thrill of breaking into the police department itself, after all.
As expected, they made it in without complications. They weren‘t the best criminals for nothing, after all. And finding the lab was easy too, it was the only room with the lights still on, after all.
Guns out, Mick and Snart turned the last corner, stepping into the laboratory, ready to threaten the CSI who they knew that incriminating evidence against them. They couldn‘t risk being caught, after all.
What greeted them though was the cutest butt that Mick had ever seen, and he had ogled a lot of asses in his days so far. It was such a perfect one though, encased in such tight jeans that showcased the jewels that they encased, two globes, just the perfect fit for Mick‘s big hands.
He looked over at Snart, and caught him staring the same way Mick was sure he had been staring just moments before. He had to suppress a groan or something else that would likely give them away, and besides this was not the time to try and get some sweet twink in his bed. Not if he didn‘t want to end up in prison, at least.
They must‘ve made some noise after all, or maybe the CSI – Barry Allen, he knew – was pretty perceptive, since he suddenly turned around and faced them. And it turned out he had the cutest face, right along with the cutest ass. Mick wanted to tap it ten times over. He wanted to walk over, push him down on that table and take him right there, make him scream.
But he knew guys like that, they normally wanted to be taken out to dinner first, courted, seduced, before they gave in to their desire to let themselves be fucked into whatever furniture or surface was closest.
„What can I do for you?“ Barry Allen asked, warily eyeing their guns, that, as Mick noticed, were not pointed at the CSI anymore, but limply hung on their sides. It would be such a shame to have to shoot someone that cute, after all.
Snart was the first to recover, always one to think quicker than Mick even when faced with the most boner-inducing cuties.
„You have something of ours that we‘d like to have back“ Snart drawled, his voice so familiar to Mick after all these years as if it were his own. „And we‘d like to take you for dinner.“
Barry Allen glanced down at their guns again, then frowned up at them. „Dinner?“ he asked, then seemed to catch up on something.
„My God. You‘re Snart and Rory, aren‘t you? The… criminals?“ He eyed their guns again, clearly very wary now, backing away from them. Clearly, that would not do.
„That much is true“ Snart confirmed, taking a step forward, but pointing his gun at the same time. „That doesn‘t mean we want to hurt you. Especially not someone as cute as you.“ Mick could almost feel Snart‘s signature smirk appearing on his face, even without looking at him.
„What he said“ he confirmed then, moving his gun to a more non-threatening position as well as he stepped forward, walking towards the cute temptation that was Barry Allen.
„You want the evidence“ Allen said, stepping in front of his desk as if that would keep Mick and Snart from getting what they wanted. „You want the evidence, and you want to take me to dinner?“
In the end, they agreed that they‘d take sweet Barry out on a date first, and that if it went well enough, he‘d hand the evidence back to them. And if not… they could always still go and steal it, after all. He somehow assumed that Barry knew that, too, but he had still agreed. Snart‘s charme was hard to resist, after all, even though Mick had seen that Barry‘s eyes had been glued to his own upper arms and chest as well a few times. Maybe they‘d really be able to pull this one together.
Snart had somehow managed to get a reservation in the fanciest restaurant in town, and Mick was sure that it had not been obtained legally, but really he couldn‘t care less. They were sitting in a corner booth, away from anyone else, and the cutest boy in town was sitting across from them, getting more relaxed by the minute as they talked and talked. Snart and Barry were already holding hands on the table, and Mick had one arm casually around Snart while Allen and him were exchanging heated looks. He wanted it, Mick knew. What he didn‘t know was if he only wanted the novelty of it, to be with two men at once, with criminals, if he was after the thrill, or if he was interested in something more.
Mick himself was very interested in something more, he found. The guy was cute and witty and had the most adorable awkward laugh, and he ate verociously just like Mick, seemed to have the most gigantic sweet tooth, just like Mick, but he also saw right past Snart‘s walls and masks and into his heart without calling him out on his acts,and Mick already adored him for it. He wanted this man, for more than one night, but he‘d never be with someone who wouldn‘t admire his Len just like he did.
„So… how come you wanted to take me out?“ Barry asked over dessert, a giant plate of dessert collections that Snart nibbled on and Barry and Mick destroyed together. „Can‘t imagine you try to take everyone to a date that you wanna threaten. You‘re not nearly as fearsome and terrible, up close. More… sweet, really.“
Sweet.
Mick wasn‘t sure he‘d ever been called sweet before, but then Barry reached out to wipe some cream from his chin with a serene smile that looked innocent and incredibly filthy all at once, and Mick somehow believed him that he really found them sweet.
„We were just gonna get that gun you collected, but then we saw your sweet behind“, Snart remarked, causing Barry to blush for the umpteenth time that evening.
„So that‘s what you‘re after, then?“ he asked, sounding almost shy.
„Yes“, Mick nodded, reaching out to take Barry‘s free hand, giving it a squeeze.
„That. And this.“
And from the way that Barry‘s face lit up, they‘d get what they wanted in the end.
Barry just wants two things: To make a friend. And to become human.
//siren!Barry. mild warnings for some body transformation at the end.
They had all heard the stories, of course. The one that if a human touched them kindly, with friendly intentions, they would be able to turn human themselves. Saved from their cursed existence, by the very race they were always going to kill. That if they managed to make even one of them warm up to them and touch them with kindness, they would be able to turn human like them, leave the realm of the sirens and live with them, happily and not an outcast in the world.
Of course, most of the sirens stopped believeing in that tale as they grew up, and just gave in to their nature, luring humans in until they were close enough to grab, and then kill them. That was what sirens did, after all. They sounded beautiful from afar, irresistible for humans, but then, once the human was close, the real face of the siren would be revealed: a gaunt face with a mouth full with thousands of sharp teeth, black eyes without compassion, a scaly fishtail and hands that were scaled and clawed, on thin, bony arms, ready to stretch out and snatch the human‘s neck, dragging them close to bring them towards their end.
Barry was one of the few who did not stop believing. He wanted it to be real, so badly. He wished and dreamed that one day a human could see him as something more than a wild beast and monster, maybe see him as a friend. He wondered what it would feel like, to be touched with kindness and good will. Sirens were not capable of kind touch, or so they said.
And so it came that Barry was always left on a rock at the very edge of the siren realm, shunned by most of the other sirens. Few ships passed the place he was occupying, and it was even fewer ships that he bothered calling out to. He soon found out that a siren‘s voice was indeed irresistible for a human, and that whenever he called, a human or several would come, but they would scare when they saw him and beg for their lives, trying to get away from him. Most of them did, for he let them get back to their ships safely and watch them sail away.
Some of them, he was ashamed to admit, he did kill – he was a siren, after all.
It was a particularly cold and rainy day when a ship passed by his rock again – little more than a boat, this time. Barry felt lonely, and he had not seen a human in a while, so he called.
He called, and they came.
One of them came first, a big human, a male, as far as he could tell, swimming towards Barry with an eager look on his face. He wondered what he looked like to humans before they got too close. He wished he would be able to see it. The man crossed the border of what Barry knew was the area he could be truly seen in, and his eyes went wide. He stopped swimming, paddling in place with one hand while fumbling under water with the other. Curious, Barry inched closer, fascinated by the man‘s eyes and what he was looking for there under the water. There was no real fear in those eyes, just the shock of seeing something unexpected and something Barry did not recognise at all.
He smiled at the man, but he thought it must have looked more like an evil grin to the bald man, as his second hand suddenly came out of the water, holding – something. Barry didn‘t know what it was, but it looked curious. Like a roughly cylindric shape with some sort of handle…
„What is this?“, he asked, preparing to glide into the water to get closer, but the human snarled at him and suddenly the cylinder was shooting fire at him. Luckily Barry was fast – he was the fastest swimmer among the sirens – and he darted to the side, the fire just barely glancing his arm. He slid back on his rock, turning a bit so he could reach into the water and splash some on his arm. It hurt. And he hadn‘t even tried to kill the human.
„Why did you do that?“ he asked, but quickly ducked as another blast of fire was shot at him, seeking refuge under the water. Fire could not reach under water, after all.
As it turned out, that was a mistake, though.
He had not seen the second human coming yet, and apparently he, too, had a cylinder like the first one. Only that this one was shooting ice. In the fraction of a moment, Barry was hit by a giant pole of ice in the water, and it just knocked him back, right into the formation of rocks behind him. He hit his head hard, and the world was spinning for a while.
When it stopped spinning, he found himself dragged up on his rock all the way, with his tail out of the water where it was slowly drying out. There was a gorgeous human beside the first one, a bit smaller, but softer looking. He had icy eyes as much as the first one had fiery ones, and it was fascinating.
Barry tried to sit up, only to have both the cylinders pointed at him and two pairs of eyes glaring at him.
„Picked a fight with the wrong person, Scarlet“ the ice man drawled, indicating the red scales on Barry‘s tail as he called him by the nickname. Curious. Barry had never had a nickname before.
„I didn‘t mean to pick a fight“, he told them, making them both wince at the sound of his voice. He tried to smile placatingly, but that just resulted in both cylinders being raised and making sounds as if something was about to take flight. Since that was likely a beam of fire and a beam of ice, Barry stopped smiling. „I was just curious.“
„Curious.“ The fire man had a deep voice, a bit raspy. Barry liked it. He wondered if he‘d have a similar voice if he were human.
He nodded, eager for them to understand. He‘d never really talked to humans before, but these two… they didn‘t seem scared, not by his teeth or black eyes or his hands with claws or his fishtail or his voice that sounded shrill and terrible even to Barry‘s own ears.
„Yes. I want to know more about humans. I want to know what it‘s like on the land, what humans do, how you live. I want to...“ He couldn‘t tell them, he never told anyone anymore that he wanted to become a human. Their lives must be so much better than his. He wanted it so badly, but he knew that he should give up his dream. It would never happen anyway.
„And why would that be?“ the ice man asked, tilting his head and regarding him almost curiously. Barry shuffled a bit, glad when he was not met with more ice or fire when his tail slid in the water. He swished it a bit, making sure it was well and truly wet again. Scales were just so damn itchy when they were out of the water for too long. He looked back at the humans again then, and their strange cylinders. How nice it must be, to have that much power.
„You‘re so handsome“ he blurted out, but then quickly turned his head away. Stupid. Of course they were handsome, they were humans. Even the ugly ones were still more beautiful than even the nicest siren.
„Are we now?“ ice man smirked, taking a step forward. „That why you called us here?“
Barry shook his head, regarding him for a bit before looking over at fire man, both of them dripping wet from swimming to Barry‘s rock. He carefully reached out, trying to touch fire man‘s hand, but he just grunted and turned his cylinder on Barry more insistently. So he turned to ice man instead, and that one tensed up but held still as Barry carefully touched his skin, curiously drawing his scaly fingers over the soft, squishy, warm hand. He was careful not to let his claws catch on the skin, and he marveled at the feeling of it. He‘d never touched a human before. It felt nice. Really, really nice.
„I‘m curious. I‘d like to make friends“ he told them, though he wondered if he could be friends with humans that continuously pointed these strange cylinders at him. Or friends with people who did not live in the water like he did.
„Not sure we‘re good friends material“, fire man grunted, gripping his cylinder a little tighter and adjusting his stance. Barry‘s rock was a slippery one though, for humans, and fire man slipped and fell, hitting his head.
The cylinder fell from his hand, and he went limp even before he slipped into the water. He sank quickly, Barry knew that humans sank quickly when they had all their clothes on, they were like a sponge that just sucked up water and dragged them down.
„Mick!“ the ice man shouted, tossing his own cylinder aside to shuffle over, staring into the water with a look of horror on his face. The water was clear, as there wasn‘t much of wave movement in this area. It might be why none of the other sirens wanted to set up camp here, they seemed to always like the turbulences.
„Mick! No!“ The ice man suddenly did not seem so icy anymore, sliding into the water as well, holding on to the rock as he tried to reach down and reach fire man – Mick, apparently – but he was already to deep. Ice man turned to Barry then, something pleading on his face. And Barry suddenly remembered that humans could not breathe under water.
The human was going to die.
No. He could not let that happen. He gave a swift push with his tail, and had already catapulted himself down from his rock into the water, quickly speeding up and catching up with Mick, grabbing one limp arm and pulling, dragging him up with him until he could push him through the surface again so he could breathe. Ice man reached for him as well, dragging him up onto the rock together with Barry.
Barry made sure that ice man was safely on the rock again as well before sliding up himself, seating himself on his favourite edge where the rock would not dig into him so much as he was swishing his tail through the water. He regarded the two humans, ice man frantically touching Mick‘s head and face and leaning down to place his lips on his forehead.
A kiss.
The two humans were together. He had only ever seen male and female humans together before, but it wasn‘t like he‘d seen a lot so maybe this was normal. It looked nice, for sure. He wondered if he‘d ever feel what one felt like.
Ice man was looking at him now, saw him watching. He did not seem to be bothered by the fact that Barry had seen him kiss Mick, but maybe that was normal too. He reached out and grabbed the cylinder that he had dropped earlier, and he pointed it at Barry again with a hand that was shaking only the tiniest bit.
„Take us back to our boat“ he demanded, and Barry nodded.
„I‘ll do that without you shooting ice at me, too“ he told ice man, and he meant it. The human must be distraught by seeing his partner fall into the water like that, and while Barry knew that he‘d live and recover, he also knew that this could be a scary thing for humans.
In the end, ice man still insisted in swimming with the cylinder pointed at Barry while Barry carefully slipped his own arms under Mick‘s limp ones and swam towards the boat lying on his back, Mick balanced on top of him.
Once they had managed to put Mick into the boat together, he was already waking up again, and Barry gripped the edge of the boat and looked on curiously as he came to, slowly sitting up.
„Thought I‘d wake up dead“ he grunted, and ice man indicated Barry with his cylinder.
„Would have if it weren‘t for him. Weird siren, saving lives instead of taking them“, he drawled and turned around, placing a hand on top of Barry‘s where it rested on the boat. „Thank you, Scarlet.“
A touch. From a human.
A touch delivered with kindness.
A shiver rippled through Barry. And then his tail began to split.
He shouted in surprise as pain shot through him, and he looked down to see his tail split in two, both ends of his fins molding themselves into feet under his shocked gaze, scales disappearing to give way to skin, skin that crept up and up and up to encase legs that were forming, and then the change hit his torso all at once, it seemed, pain ripping through him as his bones rearranged, skin broke through, teeth grew back. His eyes started to water, and then it was black for a moment before he could see again.
And what he saw was two men, looking at him as if he had fallen from the sky. Barry looked down at himself, and there it was, what he had been hoping for all his life.
A human body. Complete with feet, legs, skin, soft, gentle hands, and a touch over his face told him that his face would look like a human now, as well.
„What just happened?“ Mick asked, but Barry was beaming at ice man with tears in his eyes.
„You touched me. With kindness“ he whispered, and reached out a hand to touch him again. A long fingered hand wrapped around his wrist as an answer, and his other wrist was encased in a meatier fist, and then they pulled him into the boat with him. Humans weren‘t made for prolonged stays in the water, after all.
Ice man, Barry learned, was called Len, and his kisses felt amazing. Mick‘s kisses were more fiery, but no less breathtaking. Being human wasn‘t easy for someone who‘d been a siren all his life, but he adapted quickly, and soon felt more at home than he had ever felt back in the sea.
But nothing, nothing made him feel safer and more at home than being snuggled up between Mick and Len with both their arms wrapped around him.
Yes, he decided, it was good that he had always been the odd one out, and that instead of fighting and killing one another they had all ended up saving each other.
Len wakes up and wonders why it is so dark even with his eyes open.
//Warnings for blindness and disability. It’s still a sweet drabble though.
When he opened his eyes, it was dark. He could tell he was lying in a bed, very likely his own, and that was strange. He never closed the blinds at night, and even if he did there would still be some light coming in. There was nothing over his eyes, either, he could feel it. It was just… completely dark.
There was a hand in his, he could feel, familiar thick fingers entwined with his own long and slender ones. He gave Mick‘s hand a squeeze and turned his head towards him, squinting as he tried to see. If only his head would not be hurting as much.
He could hear Mick shuffling beside him, as if he was turning towards him, and then his other hand was on his cheek, and his breath on his face, as if he was leaning very close.
„Len? Are you awake?“
His voice sounded concerned, and concerned was never a good sound on Mick. By now Len had figured out that something was obviously wrong, why else would he be lying in the dark, with his eyes open, and Mick holding his hand? Mick never held his hand. Or at least he pretended to never hold his hand.
„What happened?“ he asked, wincing a bit at the way his face started hurting when he spoke. Before he started speaking, Mick caressed the back of his hand, as if to soothe him, as if to brush his pain away.
„Cop got you in the face with a good punch. Knocked you right out. Hit your head pretty hard, falling face first on that table, and...“
Things were never good when Mick trailed off like that. He wasn‘t one for half measures, he‘d say things or he wouldn‘t even start in the first place.
Slowly, the previous events came back to him. Mick and him in a storage hall, the alarm going off, police. He remembered thinking of their first gig, and how that had gone tits up as well. Then cops, storming in, fists flying. Why they hadn‘t had their guns with him, he couldn‘t even recall at that moment. He must have hit his head pretty hard. And then a fist, flying towards him, ducking away, trying to twist, but another cop behind him, swinging his fist with a gun still in it, plastic and metal connecting harshly with his head. Pain exploding in his head, the table coming nearer, those precious little capsules that would release their acid upon being crushed on the tabletop. More pain on his face, his nose crunching, his eyes burning… then darkness.
„And?“ he prompted, hoping his voice sounded steadier than it sounded like inside his head.
„And the capsules worked.“
Blunt as that, just like he was, his beloved Mick. He nodded, squeezing Mick‘s hand again. It didn‘t need spelling out then, the rest. That things would never be like before. That he‘d be blind. That his face was likely covered in acid burns – or not, maybe it was mainly the eyes. He felt too numb to care, he didn‘t even feel pain anymore. Probably the shock. Or really good painkillers.
So this was to be it then. It made him sad to know that he‘d never see Mick again, or Barry.
Barry.
If Barry would even want him anymore. He wasn‘t really an asset to have then, anymore, blind, without use of his skills. Because what was a thief without his sight? How would he even be able to so much as point a gun at the correct spot, see if anyone was coming, drive a car… what did he have to offer to Barry if all he was was a crippled ex-criminal that couldn‘t so much as swipe Barry‘s pocket anymore to then go buy him a coffee from the money he just stole.
Mick would stay with him, he was sure of that. They had been through so much together. But Barry… what they had with Barry was still new, and Len… Len was never the sentimental type, but he had gotten attached to their speedster, and he didn‘t want to lose him.
„Where‘s Barry?“ he asked Mick, turning his head to give some semblance of looking at his partner, hoping it wouldn‘t make him cringe. Maybe Mick would prefer Len to not look at him… but then Mick had never minded battle scars.
„And where are we?“ After all, he thought, if that cop had knocked him out by all means he should be on his way to Iron Heights now. If not already there, tossed in a cell. Or maybe in the Hospital Wing first, if he was lucky. Chained to his bed, or something.
There were footsteps outside the room, suddenly – or at least they sounded like they were outside the room – but they stopped a little distance away. Maybe the doorway?
„You‘re in my house.“ A voice said, and Len knew that he knew that voice. Heard it before, plenty of times. But he couldn‘t place it straight away.
„Barry‘s house. Detective West‘s house“ Mick supplied, and Len tensed up. He knew that Barry hadn‘t told anyone yet, for fear of bad reactions, and he knew that his adoptive father would just love to see him in prison. Him and Mick both.
Mick was stroking the back of his hand again, as if to try and get him to relax, and Detective West cleared his throat.
„You know I‘d do anything for that kid, so… I vouched for you. For now. You‘ll stay here, no one comes after you, for now. Both of you.“ There was a pause, and Len could almost feel West‘s gaze on him.
„That being said. If I find something stolen from my house, you‘ll be on your way to Iron Heights posthaste. If you hurt my son, your eyes will not be the only thing you‘re missing. And I will not hesitate to take you apart.“
He didn‘t even wait for an answer, it seemed, but turned around straight away and walked away again. Just as well, because Len had no idea what he would have replied anyway. He had no intention of hurting Barry, and upsetting West would definitely hurt Barry, so stealing was out of the question as well. How could he even steal something if he couldn‘t see what it was anyway?
Mick sighed next to him and moved, gently pushing him over a bit. There was some jostling, and then the mattress next to him dipped with a heavy weight and Mick‘s arms came up around his waist. Len allowed himself a tiny smile and let his head roll on the side, resting on Mick‘s shoulder the way he always did when they were next to each other like this.
„Barry‘s bed“ Mick supplied after a while of silence. „Convinced West to let us stay here, since any hospital would‘ve turned you in. Snow‘s been looking after you.“
Another bit of silence, then „Barry‘s downstairs. Beating himself up ‘bout not being fast enough, catching you before you hit that table and all. Tried to talk him out of it but you know how he is.“ There was a deep sigh from Mick, and his head slumping to the side to rest against Len‘s.
„He‘s worried about you.“
So much like Mick, to say that, to not associate any feelings with himself. But he knew better, and Mick knew that he knew better, so it was okay. After all, the fact that Mick was here sitting vigil at his bed and not downstairs and trying to comfort Barry spoke volumes. He simply squeezed Mick‘s hand and leaned against him a bit more.
„That‘s our boy, always thinking it‘s his own fault“ he sighed, just as he heard another pair of footsteps coming towards them, these more light and very familiar. They, too stopped at what he supposed was the doorway, but then Barry continued on towards them, walking around to the other side of the bed. Len had never been in Barry‘s room before, but he supposed it must be a free standing bed, seeing as Barry could walk to the other side and sit down on the mattress.
„Len“ he whispered, and Len reached out for him, finding his hand encased in Barry‘s warm one and a kiss being dropped on the back of it.
„Joe told me you‘re awake.“
„It appears that I am“ he confirmed, only to elicit a wet sounding chuckle from Barry.
„Don‘t cry, Scarlet, you know you look much prettier when you laugh.“
You look much prettier when you laugh.
He would never again be able to see Barry laugh.
He turned his head away, wanting to hide his face in Mick‘s neck but also fearing encountering a world of pain after all if something were to touch his face. He could feel a sting somewhere behind his eyes, but he doubted he would actually be able to cry right now.
The mattress dipped on the other side of him as well, and then there was another set of arms around him and a face pressed against his neck as Barry sobbed into it.
He wanted to comfort him, but he didn‘t know how – he knew he was in shock, rationally, but he just feld numb and lost, really.
„Len, I‘m so sorry. I should-“
„Barry, no. This is not your fault, and you know it. It‘s not your fault. You are not responsible for this.“ He gently extracted his arm from where Barry had pinned it to the mattress and shuffled it up above his head only to wrap it around Barry in return.
„It‘s not the end of the world, you know. After all, I have the only two things that really matter right here with me.“
„And you will continue to have us.“ That was Mick‘s voice again, and he could feel both of his lovers‘ arms shifting on his stomach, likely to hold hands on top of it, like they did so often when Len was in the middle.
„Definitely. You‘re not getting rid of us this easily. We‘re here to stay, after all“ Barry told him, face still pressed against Len‘s neck, and Len could feel him smile.
It would be hell, but suddenly he was sure he would be able to adapt to his new life just fine after a while. He would just likely need to find another day job than robbing banks at night – but well, he could do that.
After all, as a kid he‘d always dreamed about being a mayor.
