Bit random but here’s roles for your team if you ever need them for your team whump scenarios:
A/N: making this mainly bc I tried to find one of these but couldn’t (and also because I’m running out of content LMAO)
Leader - The person who’s in charge of everything, pretty self explanatory.
Caretaker - The person who’s closest to Whumpee. Could also be another one of the ones on the list at the same time (e.g. Caretaker and Medic).
Sniper - The person who shoots from the shadows. Usually (but not always) someone who’s trained by law enforcement.
Medic - The person who’s responsible for healing the rest of their team and patching up their injuries. AKA healer.
Fighter - The one who just fights, not necessarily with a weapon.
The clown - Usually the dumb one who’s there purely for comic relief.
In my opinion, those 5 are the backbone of the team, but here’s also some extras you can add on:
Mage/ wizard - The magic one, the one that comes up with spells and uses powers.
Hacker - The one who hacks into everything. That’s literally it.
Archer - Uses bow & arrow to fight.
Thief - The person who’s a stealing genius, have probably been stealing for a while if not their whole life.
The boring one - You know the only responsible character? Yeah.
Team mom/dad - Basically “the boring one” but more caring.
The pet - The team pet, just for vibes.
The social butterfly - Usually the character that goes “I know a guy” every time theres an issue that requires outside help.
Mechanic - The person that fixes stuff (e.g. broken armour or weapons) less seen in media for some reason, everything just kinda seems to fix itself with no explanation.
Ninja - Basically the “fighter” but less noisy and more sleek.
The maker - Also a less popular one, but it’s basically the one that makes everything, the gear, the teams costumes, the weapons, everything.
The stupid one - Last but not least, the stupid one, basically like the clown but without the humour. Always misinterprets everything they’re told (me too) and can barely do basic maths (also me too).
That’s it basically (if I missed any lmk), really hope this helped (or will help lol). Also remember, your characters don’t have to stick to only one of these roles, in fact, better written characters usually have at least 2 of these roles. However, if you just want them to have one of these roles for each character absolutely go for it, in the end it just comes down to personal preference.
how do you guys organize yourself to write the story? I always find it hard to imagine more than one person writing/creating a game, like do you both think about what should happen next together and then write it?
It varies based on what needs writing. In general we’ve had years of practice writing things together before this from roleplaying. Building off of that, we often approach this by splitting things up by character. I handle almost all of the writing involving Cormac, for example, while Kiku covers Aisling. For interlude sections, that would mean we’re writing entire conversation scenes on our own, and just checking with each other anything we’re unsure about.
For the main stuff we brainstorm together, then write very general outlines of important things to hit, scenes we want to have, the most major choices we want the player to make. Then we go back through and put together the actual outlines with coding and everything, usually doing that section by section. Then we just split up the writing work and fill things in, tweaking/adding/adjusting things as needed.
There’s a lot of “I’ll take options 1 and 2, you take options 3 and 4?” when we’re writing scenes together, and also a lot of “how’s that?” … “good, awesome.”
Oh, and we write on an etherpad, so we can both see everything that’s written in a given chapter. Helps us keep stuff straight, and lets us chat at the same time. Very useful for collaborating.
Did you guys ever do that exercise where you'd write one sentence (or more) of a story and pass your paper to the next person, they'd write something and pass it on, and so on? I thought that might be fun to do here. If people are into it and it gets reblogged multiple times, the story can even go in different directions. I just thought it might be really cool. It can be serious or silly or whatever you guys want. POV can switch, you can add your own OCs, you can write any rating you want, you can write a whole scene or a sentence, ship anyone you want, anything! It doesn’t even have to make sense. There are no rules, other than to be respectful of others' work. I'll start us off.
The mission parameters had been clear, but Jyn had gone against them, reckless and impetuous. Unsurprisingly, Cassian wasn't happy. Even though Jyn's actions had gotten the whole Rogue One team out of a scrape that could have turned ugly, she knew she would have to face a dressing-down from him. He was, after all, her superior.
All right, guys, take it away if you wanna. I really hope you like this idea, because you’re all so talented and I can’t wait to see what you come up with if you do like it.
**Special note to those of you out there who want to write but think you can’t or think you’re not good enough: I want to see YOUR work especially, because I am 100% confident it is better than you think. Just start typing. All you need to start with is one word, and then another, and then another. You’re good. You’re enough. You’re more than enough. We’re all in this together. <3
Someone asked about team writing in regards to the screenplay challenge.
I am not opposed to a team writing (just choose one blog to submit stuff under). However, I highly encourage you to try the challenge yourself because the challenge is built in a way that is meant for individual writing. I think it might be difficult with multiple people writing the one script. Individual writing also gives you a chance to work on every part of the script as it develops.
Len and Barry discover ColdFlash, proceed to become part of the fandom, and form an unknowing friendship with each other's online aliases. When they finally discover they've been talking to each other all this time, they have to face facts that maybe this ship they've been supporting, writing fics for, and making art of, is something they both want in real life too. If only they can take the risk.
11 authors came together on tumblr to each write a chapter of this concept, taking different points in the timeline to tell a complete story. Please read these stories in order, as together they tell a full fic from how Len and Barry first discover ColdFlash to how it becomes canon. Stay tuned for potentially continuing epilogue chapters as ideas come to us!
You can read and comment on these awesome chapters at the AO3 collection HERE, and also read this monster below the cut. We plan to periodically add additional epilogue chapters as there are a few things we think would be fun to explore.
A huge thank you to everyone involved! @lisellevelvet, @coldtomyflash, @dragdragdragon, @cliches-and-coffee, @daughterofscotland, @ereri-yaoi-lover, @likes-to-icicle, @ladyofpride, @redcharade, @wolvesofinnistrad
This was a massive undertaking and we really hope you all enjoy the fic!
@redcharade
It had started with a simple enough Google search. The kind that he did rather often, keeping tabs on the things The Flash was doing while Captain Cold wasn’t around. He went to the usual news sites first, the ones he knew the URLs for by heart and the journalists he knew did the most coverage on The Flash.
First on the list was always Iris West, for obvious reasons. He even read the articles she wrote that weren’t about The Flash, as it was his opinion that you could never know your enemy’s allies well enough. Besides, he liked Iris, respected her. She wasn’t afraid to stand up to a supervillain, give him a piece of her mind, even if that supervillain had just threatened her life.
Well, not seriously but she hadn’t known that. He wasn’t even sure Barry had figured out he’d been bluffing. But, Len wasn’t stupid enough to make a modification like the one he’d claimed to have made on his gun.
And yet, Iris West, who had probably been the most physically powerless person in the room, had had no qualms about telling him off. Not that he hadn’t deserved it. He had.
So yes, he liked Iris West and was glad Barry had someone like her in his corner. He hadn’t been lying when he’d told her he’d read her article. He’d read every single one of her articles and he made a habit of it, whether they were about The Flash or not. She was a damn good journalist.
But, she was also the best source of information on The Flash, considering she was so close to him. She had the most frequent updates and she had them before anyone else. She also had more insight and detail than other journalists and, due to her proximity to Barry, he knew he could trust it. And the questions she did leave the reader with weren’t the usual superficial bullshit most other journalists added in; they harbored their own clues as to what was actually going on if you knew to read between the lines, which he did.
Her work was a good place to start, and from there he went to the few other journalists who didn’t use The Flash as a fluff piece for clicks. Len really wasn’t interested in the latest gossip about some celebrity saying they’d sleep with The Flash if given the opportunity, or some journalist wondering whether The Flash was seeing anyone.
Once he was finished checking specific journalists, he would do a general Google search to see if there was anything interesting some amateur might have gotten. It would probably surprise people to realize just how valuable cell phone footage of The Flash could be sometimes.
However, tonight he was looking up a recent fight between Captain Cold and The Flash which occurred in a semi-public area. It had been late, so the area was mostly deserted and the lighting would be bad, but with Barry’s lightning and the glow from Len’s charged cold gun, it shouldn’t be difficult for cell phone users who did happen to be around to get some choice footage.
Now, as a frequent Internet user, Len knew that when you Googled things with your filter off, you needed to be careful, because porn would show up anywhere and sometimes the links looked rather unassuming until you clicked on them.
But, despite that knowledge and the fact that he was actually rather well versed with computers, he forgot the first rule of the Internet. If it exists, there’s porn of it.
It just didn’t cross Leonard Snart’s mind that anyone would write or draw or otherwise create sexual content about Captain Cold and The Flash. Together. With each other.
Not that Len hadn’t, on perhaps frequent occasion, imagined some rather sexual scenarios between himself and Barry Allen. Just as a masturbation aid, of course. And, honestly, if the kid didn’t want people doing that then he shouldn’t run around in skin-tight leather with a figure like that, aerodynamics be damned.
He should have realized that he was probably not the only person to have had that thought, but he didn’t.
At least, not until he clicked on a link that had both his and Barry’s code names in it. He hadn’t recognized the site name, but that wasn’t unusual when he was going through searches like this, looking for individual people and obscure sites.
When he first started reading, he realized right away it wasn’t a normal blog but he kept reading anyway to find out what they were saying. It didn’t take much longer than that to realize that this was a story someone had written, something that had never actually happened, because he would have remembered the events going on here, the conversations.
This clearly wasn’t what he was looking for and he really should close out of this tab and continue on with his task, but...the story was actually pretty good and the writing well-done, even though there were things that were inaccurate. But, he let those things slide because most of it was dialogue or the way Barry looked. He couldn’t really fault someone, from the looks of it an amateur writer with a lot of raw talent at the very least, for not being able to get some of those things exactly right. Barry ran around covered head-to-toe as The Flash with only certain portions of his face visible. There was no way they could know Barry was a brunet and not a blond, or that his eyes were hazel, or what his real name was. And if you didn’t know a person yourself, it stood to reason that you probably couldn’t get their personality exactly right or anticipate the things they’d say in certain situations.
Despite that, though, this person still managed to write a believable story that sucked Len right in. It was a little strange reading a story about himself and The Flash written by someone he was fairly certain he’d probably never met, but it was well-written and so Len found it easy to separate the story version of himself and his real self.
Before he knew it, he’d read 20 chapters of this story and that...was when he ran into the first sex scene. It wasn’t really a surprise, Len could see that the story versions of himself and The Flash were working up to that and by now he had actually been kind of frustrated that it was taking so long, but when he finally got there...well, he had to admit that was a little weird.
At first. The idea that someone he didn’t know was thinking about the length and width of his cock, even in a vague sense, was a little unnerving. The idea that someone was literally fantasizing about him based on a persona that he played up for the cameras and for The Flash, especially when they were in costume, was really hitting home right about then. But it didn’t stop him from continuing on. And the more he read in the scene the more he found...well...he found himself fantasizing about it happening in real life.
He mentally fixed all of the physical flaws, the wrong name for Barry, in his mind as he read this part of the story and...and damn. That was actually very well-written, too, and it was incredibly hot. Hot enough that Len was hard in his pants and very much considering leaning back, unfastening his jeans and...well. He wouldn’t. Not because it would be weird, since he’d already been doing that to thoughts of himself and Barry together for quite a while now, but...he really wanted to know what happened next after this part.
The story only went on for another two chapters, but it seemed unfinished and given the author’s note he supposed that meant it was an unfinished story. He was able to find, with a little checking, that the story wasn’t going to be left that way and the author seemed to put up new chapters rather regularly. The next one probably wouldn’t be out until next week, but he’d also discovered that this person had a lot of other stories they’d written about Captain Cold and The Flash. Len bookmarked that page to go back to later.
For now, he was going to work out his frustrations in the other room and then he was going to do more...research, because in checking to see how often the author posted new chapters and finding out about all of these other stories they’d written, he’d also found out that there was a whole treasure trove of people who were writing stories for them. Might be worthwhile to keep an eye on this. Maybe infiltrate and make sure that this wasn’t a cover for something nefarious that would negatively impact him, or that people he knew weren’t telling tales out of school and using this as a method to gossip with each other.
Exactly. Intel.
XXXXX
Barry had just walked through the door of Picture News where he was supposed to meet Iris before heading with her to Jitters. As usual, nobody paid him much attention. It wasn’t strange for people to walk in and out, even if they didn’t work there, and everyone already knew Barry was probably there to see Iris. Only one person seemed to notice him, and it was the same guy who always noticed him when others didn’t and would give him a smile and a nod. He still had no idea who that guy was, after all this time, but he would always smile and nod back, sometimes even a wave.
When he nearly tripped over a chair he realized it was probably time to face forward again and watch where he was going. He smiled apologetically at the person who was actually sitting in the chair at the time, and headed over to where he saw Iris talking excitedly with Linda. His smile turned genuine as he approached but then morphed into a look of bewildered horror when they didn’t notice him right away and he realized what they were saying.
“Oh, Linda, that’s perfect. And then Captain Cold can lick—”
“No! Oh my God! What are you guys even saying?!” Barry asked, feeling mortified and incredibly exposed, despite his somewhat oversized layers of shirts and his jacket.
“Barry!” Iris’s eyes widened and so did Linda’s as they both turned to him at the same time, startled and looking more than a little guilty.
“We were just...well...um…” Linda trailed off, looking at Iris for help.
“Barry, it’s not what you think…” Iris said, standing up and going over to him to put her hands on his shoulders. He must have looked like he could use some steadying.
“It sounds like you’re talking about Snart and m--I mean The Flash doing things to each other...with...their hands and...their mouths…oh my God…” he’d said it out loud, what was he doing?!
“So...I guess it is what you think…” Linda chimed in, causing Barry to whimper a little.
“But, not the real Captain Cold and Flash! Just...fan versions of them,” Iris said quickly.
“What…? Fan versions?” Barry asked, sitting down in the chair that Iris had vacated because he seriously needed a moment. There were fan versions of himself and Snart? What did that even mean? Like cosplayers? Oh God! Was that a thing? Were people dressing up like him and Snart and doing weird...things...to each other that Barry definitely hadn’t ever thought about doing before??
“Mmhm, fan versions. Nothing that hits too close to home,” Iris said, figuring that a little white lie in order to comfort her best friend was called for here.
“Right! I mean, half the fandom thinks The Flash is blond,” Linda said, and Iris looked at her and smiled and then turned that smile in Barry’s direction, nodding and trying to look encouraging.
“Exactly! And they don’t know The Flash’s real name so they just make one up. So, see, it’s not the real Flash,” Iris continued.
“That...that’s…” Barry wasn’t sure if that was worse or not, but it certainly didn’t make him feel better.
“Oh, Barry...I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for you to find out,” Iris said, face and voice softening quite a bit.
“Wait, so...you weren’t ever going to tell me this was going on?” Barry asked, although he thought it might be a bit ridiculous for him to be upset about that when he was already actively wishing he didn’t know.
“Well, there were no immediate plans to…” Iris hedged. Not really admitting she had planned to never tell him, but not a true denial either.
“Why? I don’t...I don’t get it. Why would people want to think of Cold and Flash like that? Is it like a hate group or something? Is it because of the property damage? Flash apologizes for things like that all the time and helps rebuild and fix what’s broken!”
“No, Barry, it’s not...it’s just…” Iris sighed and looked over at Linda who had seemed content to be forgotten right then. Except she couldn’t ignore Iris’s silent plea for support.
“They’re just...fans online. People who like you both and like to think of you two as a couple. I mean, you two flirt so much it’s not any real wonder...and Cold does seem to get jealous when he thinks you’re ignoring him,” Linda said, shrugging. Going the gentle route wasn’t working, so maybe it was best to just rip the Band-Aid off quickly?
“We don’t flirt! We banter, there’s a difference!” Barry defended, then looked around when he realized both Linda and he had fallen into referring to him as The Flash...in a room full of reporters. But, nobody seemed to notice. Thank goodness.
Iris and Linda exchanged a glance that Barry wasn’t sure he approved of. That was their look for when they were just going to humor Barry on something. But, that was ridiculous, he and Cold did NOT flirt! Sure, Cold was gorgeous and Barry might have thought about him a few times -- just a few! -- in the early mornings when he’d woken up before the alarm with morning wood, or in the shower, but that was it! And it didn’t mean anything! He’d thought about Lex Luthor once, too, before he’d met Snart...but he’d never flirted with Lex Luthor!
Not that he’d ever had the opportunity, but still!
Oh God, he had to get off this train of thought...like, immediately. So, he was only too happy when Iris started talking again. At least, until he realized what she was saying.
“Well, either way, there are fans who think that Cold and Flash would make an interesting couple. The fanfiction is actually really good, and the fanart is, too. And it really isn’t the real Flash, Barry, nobody knows him. Nobody’s thinking of the real you doing anything with Captain Cold,” she said the last part in a whisper, so nobody would overhear.
“But, it is the real Captain Cold? Because, neither of you said anything about that,” Barry said, feeling just the slightest bit calmer, but...he wasn’t sure if that was real calm or the fake calm you get just before you have a breakdown.
“Well...I didn’t think that would be something you’d worry about? But, no, it isn’t the real him, either…technically,” Iris assured.
“It’s a little trickier to say that with Cold though. I mean, everyone knows his real name and what he looks like, because it’s kind of a matter of public knowledge at this point, but it really is just fans who don’t know Flash or Cold and don’t have any connections with them, so it’s just based on his persona and the little bit they get to see on the news. Everything else is just fans filling in the blanks with their imaginations,” Linda explained, turning to her computer and starting to type something.
“Except you two. You two are in with this stuff and you have a connection to me,” Barry said, wondering if there were other people he knew besides Iris and Linda who were doing this. And did that mean that there were people Snart knew who were doing this? Did Snart know about this?! Did he orchestrate this just to...no, no that was ridiculous even for Snart.
“Here, look. These are a couple of sites where the fandom hangs out and posts their stuff related to ColdFlash,” Linda said, turning her monitor toward Barry.
“There’s even a ship name??” Barry wasn’t new to fandom or fanworks, or even to shipping. He’d participated in it himself when he was a kid and a teenager, and throughout college. It was a good escape when things got too heavy, but after college things just got too busy and instead of slowing down things sped up. Literally, when he became The Flash.
“See! You’re already familiar with how this works. I remember the way you were over Firefly,” Iris said with a grin.
“It’s still a miscarriage of justice that they cancelled that show so soon,” Barry lamented, trying to use Firefly and his fun with fandom back then as a way to ground himself with this and try to see it from someone else’s perspective. And it kind of helped, except…
“But I never had anything to do with real people. Just characters.”
“Well...to a lot of people, Flash and Captain Cold are just characters. For all the people Flash has impacted directly, there are so many people who have only seen him on television or the Internet, caught a glimpse of from afar, or just saw his yellow lightning. And similar things with Cold. I mean, there are even action figures.” Iris shrugged, desperately hoping that Barry would continue calming down and think about this in a rational way.
It wasn’t like this was a totally foreign concept to Barry. It was just that he’d never thought he had fans. Which was probably a strange thing, since he knew the way people talked about him on the news, he knew about the action figures, and he knew about the coffee drink at Jitters. But, those things were just...well they were different. The coffee drink was just a gimmick to sell more coffee, the other merch was kind of the same, and a lot of people would buy graphic tees without even really being fans of what they were wearing on their chests. And the action figures were for little kids.
“I used to write Backstreet Boys fanfiction,” Linda said, blushing a little. Which, well...it was more relevant than Firefly since there was no way that couldn’t involve real people.
“Oh my God, I forgot about that…” Barry said, quietly. “I forgot people used to do stuff like that for boy bands.”
“They still do,” Iris said with a laugh.
“And those are definitely real people they’re writing about. But, not the actual people...they don’t know those guys in the boy bands, maybe only met them briefly for an autograph or something, and have seen their interviews. They work off of personas. It’s no big deal, really,” Linda said, taking Barry’s calmer disposition as a good sign.
“No big deal? How would you feel if people started writing stories about you and Iris because they liked your reporting?” Barry asked, because he could get how random people might not think of that, but Iris and Linda were his friends and they knew him!
The women exchanged a look and grinned.
“Well, it depends,” Iris said, in her teasing tone.
“On what…?” Barry asked, suspecting he was being set up here.
“On whether or not the fics were hot,” Linda answered with a tone to match Iris’s.
“Come on, you guys…” Barry knew he was whining a little, but he didn’t think it was fair to joke right now. This was a serious matter!
“Okay, we get why you’re upset. This is part of the reason we didn’t want to tell you right away. But, Barry, these fans aren’t hurting anyone, and they’re getting something out of this. And in any case...there’s really no way to put the genie back in the bottle. At least look things over a little. We’ll totally get it if it’s just too weird for you to really ever want to talk or think about after that, but just see all the effort and creativity they’re putting into these fanworks and how much they love what they’re doing. I think you’ll at least feel a little better about it when you see how much joy it brings people to have this outlet.”
Barry sighed. He just didn’t see why it had to be him and Cold they did that with. Couldn’t they find something from a TV show to write about?
“Fine,” he said, getting up from Iris’s chair so she could have it back if she wanted it.
“Great! Just give me a second to close out of everything here, and then Linda and I will bring our tablets and we can give you a brief crash course at Jitters!” Iris said. The two of them were already starting to get everything ready before Barry could get over his shock and protest.
As it turned out, though, the crash course really was just a crash course. They showed Barry some blogs about people freaking out happily about the ship, and drew his attention to a few fanarts and fanfiction that were well known in the fandom, as well as some music videos made up either of fanart or of news clips.
The music videos were actually what had Barry laughing about this whole thing, finally, and to his surprise...in a good-natured way, even though he knew what they were trying to allude to. It even got his mind off of the fact that Iris and Linda were clearly participating in the fandom themselves, actively, if the discussion he’d walked in on was any indication.
But, that was about it. Barry didn’t talk about or look up anything involving ColdFlash for the next two weeks, hoping to convince himself it just wasn’t a thing and he’d dreamed it all up. It was just...not talking about it or looking at it wasn’t enough to stop him from thinking about it. And the more he thought about it, the more he found himself...morbidly curious.
He remembered some of the sites that Iris and Linda had shown him and looked them up, scrolling through the fanfiction until he found one of the fics they’d told him was famous in the fandom as being especially good, a must-read for anyone in the fandom and certainly for anyone new to it...and clicked on it.
By the time he got through 12 chapters, he was actually really impressed with the writing and the flow, with the characterization. And it was true that the differences, at least for the character based on The Flash, were enough that it was easy to remove himself from it as he read. Not so much for the character of Captain Cold, though. Thank goodness the dialogue was just a little off, or he might be in danger of forgetting entirely that he was just reading a story.
Although, it was a little weird that such an accurate Captain Cold was interacting in such a way, especially in a sexual way, with a Flash who wasn’t Barry. If not for that, it might make for some interesting morning fantasies. As it was, he kind of just frowned whenever he read about Cold kissing The Flash, or sliding his hands down…
Well, that was silly, though. It wasn’t really Cold, like Iris and Linda had said, and it certainly wasn’t really him. But, why did he care anyway? It wasn’t like he was jealous. That would be absurd.
Barry was about to click the Next Chapter button, when he heard footsteps outside of his door and someone turning the handle. Gasping and in a super-speed panic, he shut his laptop lid and practically dive-bombed his bed -- nearly falling off of the other side of it -- and grabbed for the first book he could find to try to look casual like he wasn’t doing anything the slightest bit out of place.
“Barry? Dad says to tell you dinner’s ready…” Iris said, giving him a look when she opened the door and saw him on the bed like that.
“Oh! Sure, I’ll be right down. Thanks, Iris,” Barry said, giving her a smile he’d hoped was grateful but he was pretty sure had turned out nervous. Like the laughter that had slipped out a bit.
“Are you alright?” she asked, giving him a once over with a critical gaze, despite knowing Barry couldn’t be sick.
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” Barry tried to sound mildly confused, but he was pretty sure he just sounded more nervous.
“I thought you were up here working on reports? Now you’re in bed reading The Hobbit?” Iris’s voice was edging toward the no-nonsense tone she took when Barry was trying to pull one over on her and she was having none of his shit.
“Oh! Yeah, I finished with the reports. And I just...thought I’d reread it? It’s a good book. And you know...super speed, so it won’t take long…” Barry laughed a bit and rubbed the back of his neck.
Iris didn’t look quite convinced, but it was that look that said instead of calling Barry on it she was going to just file this away for later consideration and let him dig his grave a little deeper.
Barry was slightly terrified.
“Well, alright. Wash up and come downstairs, we’re about to start soon,” Iris said, smiling and backing out of the room.
He heard her footsteps down the hall and down the stairs and he sighed with relief, relaxing against the bed for a moment and tossing The Hobbit to the side a bit.
“That was close and I am so screwed…”
That really only made his mind turn back toward that fanfiction again, though.
-----
@crimsondomingo
Barry typed out his user name for Tumblr again.
TalkNerdyToMe
He stared at it for a moment. Deleted it.
Lichtenberg…
No, too obvious. Sure, plenty of people in the fandom had names that were related to Captain Cold or The Flash or other characters—real people, but also, seriously, quite the characters—that Flash had encountered, but Barry still worried he’d do something to give himself away. Which was why this was a terrible, terrible idea.
Forensics…
Nope. Now he was being too obvious about his day job self. He thought back to that first one. Not bad, close…but something was missing.
He considered his favorite aspects of the fandom, of the ColdFlash shippers and their intense obsession and passion for two strangers they’d never met but still wrote as if they were part of their lives.
While discovering the fandom from Iris and Linda had led Barry’s mind mostly straight to…sex between him and his nemesis, and some of the sex Barry had read was amazing—which in the beginning he’d shied away from, really, tried to avoid, but…but the writers were so GOOD, Barry found himself sneaking peeks more and more often—it wasn’t the sex that left him sighing in giddy contentedness at the end of a fic. It was when the writer pushed it to be something…more.
Barry knew he was a hopeless romantic, emphasis on the hopeless part. Always either falling for people who didn’t want him, or trying to be with someone who didn’t make his heart race the way he’d always dreamed of feeling with the love of his life. Somewhere along the line those two things had to come together into one person.
And of course he didn’t think for a second that person would ever be Leonard Snart. But wow, some of these writers, the way they tried to get into Snart’s head—succeeding sometimes in pegging him quite well actually—and the way every so often, even with no one knowing Barry’s real identity, they could characterize HIM almost right…made him believe for the few minutes or hours he was reading a good fic that the emotions written there could be real.
He and Snart did banter quite a bit. And sure, to an onlooker it might seem like subtle flirting—it wasn’t, couldn’t actually be—but the seeds were there obviously if so many fans saw it, saw how it could be nurtured into something else.
Barry was such trash for this ship after only a few weeks of giving in and reading some of the fics, perusing art when no one was around to catch him—and he knew he had to watch like a hawk for Iris because she would never let him live this down if she knew he looked into the fandom regularly now. He was also supremely grateful that he’d never asked if either she or Linda had an alias online, which they so obviously did, because the last thing he needed was to read a hot fic and realize it was written by his best friend.
He tried not to think about that. The point was…he loved the romance that could build from the tension in a fight scene. How someone could take his encounters with Snart and suddenly they wouldn’t be fighting anymore but opening up to each other.
Barry knew Snart was a good man, deep down, past the snark and bravado, past the criminal element that really was just stealing for the most part, at least since their deal. Snart cared deeply. Barry had seen that with Lisa, when Len had risked so much for her, done more than Barry wished he had, but of all the people Barry mourned, Lewis Snart wasn’t one of them.
The potential was there for Len to be good. And a few of the writers saw that too, or at least decided to play that angle to make romance a possibility between hero and villain. Those were the fics Barry loved.
What annoyed him, even though he still read his fair share, was that almost all, literally nearly every single fic with sex in it…had Snart topping. Which Barry had no hang-ups over. He’d explored…that. Privately with his hands and toys. In college with a few—very few—partners. But these shippers seemed to have a thing for his nemesis dominating him and well…Barry could be dominating too! He totally exuded swagger when in the suit. Didn’t he? He tried to, to project confidence when facing his enemies, but apparently the fans of ColdFlash saw things differently.
The fact that his own personal fantasies starred him and Snart as top or bottom about 50/50 was beside the point. He just thought the fandom could see things a little more like that. Though some of the way those writers depicted Snart bending him over surfaces or pressing him to walls were…
Okay, Barry was getting distracted. He opened another Tumblr tab and typed in the ColdFlash tag, surfing through other names that came up.
Huh. That one was new. Figured too.
WithColdOnTop
It never ended.
Then it hit Barry, and he grinned as his own screen name came to him. He clicked back to his previous tab, typed in his Tumblr alias and finally, finally finished creating it.
NerdsDoItBetter
Perfect.
Then he clicked back over to WithColdOnTop, because the description for the fic this person had just posted sounded seriously hot.
XXXXX
Len blamed his foray into fanfiction writing on not being able to find enough fics that told the type of stories he wanted to read. He wanted more. Wanted certain…elements to the stories. Wanted to add some fine tuning to the way these people portrayed him.
That’s what he told himself when he started writing his first fic. That if he was going to make up an encounter between him and The Flash that hadn’t actually happened, he’d be able to convey their personalities much better than these amateurs.
Though to be fair many of them were rather gifted. They just missed the nuances. Lacked a cohesive identity for Flash and Cold. Besides, Len really hated all of the fake names these people made up for Barry. They might as well be calling him John Smith.
So when Len’s first fic steered the natural route from playful banter to sex as The Flash attempted to foil one of his heists, and he played up that Cold already knew Flash’s identity—since he did, though most fics assumed he didn’t, and delved into Flash revealing his identity in some elaborate way, or just ignored that entirely and had them fucking so hard, the mask was bound to come off—he stuttered on what to type for the kid’s name for only a moment. It lent itself naturally as a pun when he wrote himself saying…
“Offering me a ride, Flash? Somehow I think you’d rather I gave you one…Ryder.”
Len grinned. Barry would hate that pun. Loathe it.
Len loved it instantly.
He set a few ground rules for himself. No nicknames. Those had never been recorded by the media, or a cell phone, so he wasn’t about to share. Only Flash. And Ryder. No one knew the Flash’s age, so ‘kid’ would be too obvious. Speaking of age, Len kept it general, didn’t bring it up, since most people placed Flash in his thirties, not knowing what a young thing he really was. He figured he could risk the real hazel eyes, as someone was bound to capture those eventually, and they were visible through the cowl. And what the hell, Len would risk making Ryder brunette too. Most of the fandom considered him blond, and that was fine, Len would simply say he wanted to try for something…different.
No other details other than how he knew Barry really talked and moved when they crossed paths would enter his fics, but it was the little things, the subtleties Len was after. This fandom needed to be schooled on just how Captain Cold would seduce the Scarlet Speedster. And how Ryder would moan under his touch.
Len hadn’t written creatively, for fun in…since he was a boy. A waste of time, his father would say, before dragging him along to the newest heist he had planned, and forcing Len, even as a child to get his hands dirty—usually quite literally thanks to the dexterous size of his young fingers. But there was no more Lewis to call him out on things he wanted, on how he chose to spend his time, or who he chose to spend it with. Oh writing fanfiction was hardly something Captain Cold should be stooping to, but then…this was clearly an underappreciated art form. And Len had always been a connoisseur of the arts.
Ryder’s hips arched up into Cold’s ungloved hand as he palmed him inside the suit, the jacket to The Flash suit unzipped and open, the pants so very ready to come off, but Cold liked the way Ryder writhed against him in the confined space of the leather, his hand trapped there, moving with only meager friction that had to be driving the younger man wild—if his moans were any indication.
“Please, Cold…please…”
Len could almost hear Barry’s voice forming those words, in that whining, pleading tone.
Oh yes, he could get used to this.
XXXXX
Barry’s jaw was on the floor. Finally, finally someone had captured Flash and Cold almost to perfection, so believably that Barry’s breath hitched at how easily his mind strayed and envisioned the scenario playing out for real. If he didn’t know any better, he’d almost think this person knew them.
He seriously hoped it wasn’t Linda or Iris.
And sure, okay, WithColdOnTop obviously had Cold topping—and Ryder for Flash’s name, seriously?—but Barry’s mild annoyance that that was almost always the norm aside, it was hot as hell. Barry had to shift in his chair several times to keep from, well, having to take care of the steadily growing problem he was having while reading it. But wow.
Barry bookmarked the fic. Left kudos with his newly minted AO3 pseudonym, also NerdsDoItBetter, and tried to muster up the courage to write a review. The fic seriously deserved comments. All the comments. But what could Barry say? Congrats on writing the great sex? I’m hard while I sit here reading it? Oh god, that would be so embarrassing, people didn’t actually write things like that, did they?
He settled on…
This was amazing! Best portrayals of Flash and Cold yet. Just how I imagine them. Great job!
Neutral but still praising. Maybe it would influence the writer to do more, because Barry was definitely going to be following this person’s work from now on. And their Tumblr page.
He should go to bed now. Get some real sleep. He’d already been up late patrolling before this. But his mind was buzzing from that fic. And he really needed to do something with his hands so he didn’t…do SOMETHING with his hands. It would just be too weird to jerk off after reading about him and Cold. Wouldn’t it?
He thought about writing. He’d started several fics of his own, before deleting them, or saving them but leaving them unfinished, feeling like an idiot for how overly cheesy he was most of the time. He just couldn’t get the words out of him, get the right tone, or…well, mostly it was trying to think up good puns for Snart, because he was damned good at that.
Top had been amazing with that part especially, like seriously, Snart could have taken lessons from this writer on puns. Maybe Top would have some good advice for Barry…
Nah. No way. Maybe another time.
Instead he reached for his sketchbook. The art for the ColdFlash fandom had some pretty good people, some more realistic in their style, others cutesy and silly. One of his favorites was actually a sketchy looking super deformed picture of Snart in his Cold gear, hood up, big grin on his face, holding the gun, just looking…adorable, which made Barry giggle, because Snart being cuddly and adorable was worth a good laugh. He’d saved that picture right away, carefully hidden in a folder even Iris wouldn’t find if she searched his computer.
Barry tried to think of what he’d like to see drawn though, and it was something more…real than that. He had to be careful not to draw his own face, either keeping Flash generic or not showing his face at all. So he went the safer route and started to draw himself from behind. Just from the waist up. Hand outstretched, gripping Snart by the front of his sweater. His hood back, but goggles still on…yeah. But instead of looking angry or ready to fight, Snart had that damnable smirk on his face that Barry loved/hated, and was leaning forward intent…on a kiss.
Barry finished the drawing in only seconds with his speed. Spent a little more time fine-tuning the work at normal pace, but…wow, when he was done, he almost crumpled it up and threw it away, because shit. If anyone ever found this, he would be so screwed.
Instead, he scanned it in, kept it in his sketchbook, which he hid in the deepest recesses of his closet, and posted it to Tumblr.
XXXXX
NerdsDoItBetter. Cute.
Len favorited the artist’s picture post. It was well done. Clearly someone who had studied his photos and footage of him on TV closely. He decided to reblog the picture too. Other ColdFlash artists were fairly impressive as well, but this one…this one had captured him better than any others.
He clicked on Nerd and decided to see what else this shipper was up to. By the time Len stumbled upon threads of headcanons and people discussing Captain Cold’s character and true motivations, and saw how Nerd insinuated himself always to Cold’s defense when something negative surfaced, Len had started to follow the kid’s blog.
Clearly, NerdsDoItBetter, had promise.
XXXXX
nerdsdoitbetter
your last fic inspired my new fanart so…just asking if I can tag you?
Barry felt like a complete moron. Sure, Top had started to follow him back, had reblogged every fanart he’d done, and commented on several of them. He also always, always replied to reviews on AO3 with a concise but eloquent charm. He’d even helped Barry with coming up with puns and dialogue when he finally got up the nerve to leave him an inbox message, working on his own more romantic fanfiction. They’d headcanoned a few times too! But somehow this felt different.
This person was some fan out in Central City who wrote about The Flash and Captain Cold having amorous sex all over the streets, and in buildings, once on top of a police cruiser, and…Barry was The Flash! He should not be nervous as if he was the one who needed approval. Yet he felt that way anyway.
He almost clicked out of the browser, afraid he’d sit there waiting for a response for minutes on end before eventually realizing Top wasn’t going to respond, but then…
withcoldontop
I’d be honored. May I have a sneak peek?
Barry thrummed with excitement.
nerdsdoitbetter
Sure!
He sent the link to where he’d initially uploaded the picture, anxious to hear Top’s reaction. It was a close-up of Flash and Cold in the afterglow of, well, some pretty fantastically written sex, but all fluff for Barry’s part. Just their faces, Barry’s obscured of course, turned into Snart, the back of his head showing, which he tried not to make too obviously HIS head, but…also maybe let the hair be close enough, tousled but still potentially him if you knew what to look for, as he and Cold pressed their foreheads together. Cold smiled almost sweetly, but with a little of the usual smirk. The edges of the fur of the hood of the parka could be seen, since the fic had them snuggled under it after their romp. He loved that idea. Loved that idea a little more than he cared to admit.
He hoped Top liked it, since it had come directly from his fic, that sweet moment after the sex that just made Barry…he couldn’t explain it. But he assumed this was how the whole fandom felt, and why these people loved it so much. He just felt lighter, happier, living vicariously through this fictitious version of himself. The version that got to have things Barry only dreamed about.
withcoldontop
Breathtaking. You have a real knack. And well timed.
nerdsdoitbetter
well timed?
withcoldontop
Just about to post something inspired by one of your older pieces.
A link led to a picture Barry had done of Snart in street clothes in an alley, one fashioned after, but not too close to Saints and Sinners. He’d wanted to do himself in street clothes too, but…couldn’t bring himself to risk it, knew it would be too easy to draw himself like his REAL self, so he used the Flash suit instead. He’d drawn Snart’s expression open and raw for once, no smirk, closer to how Barry had seen it after everything that happened with Snart’s father. Needy. Broken. Flash touching his face to show he cared, to show Snart that he could be open with him. It was one of the more emotional pieces Barry had done.
He couldn’t believe Top had written a fic based on THAT one. Top, who mostly did sex.
withcoldontop
Quid pro quo. We tag each other?
nerdsdoitbetter
YES, OMG, YES!! what did you write from this?
withcoldontop
You’ll see.
Barry posted his picture. Tagged Top. Then waited. When the fic link came through to ‘Past and Present’, he couldn’t click it fast enough, speed force be damned.
And it was…not what Barry had expected. Well, the sex was. Flash dragging Snart into that alley after catching on to some planned heist, but finding Snart not up to the usual banter. Withdrawn. Trying to keep up his usual persona, but failing. And Flash could tell he wasn’t his usual self, pushed, as Barry would have, as Barry HAD when trying to get Snart to come clean about what was going on working with his father.
Flash zipped them out of there to his own apartment—Barry liked that the fics gave him his own place, since obviously no one knew he lived with his adopted father—and they proceeded to have some of the more emotionally driven sex Top had ever written. Still with Cold topping—of course. But that was part of the point. Flash giving over all of his trust to Snart was what opened him up.
And wow. Top explored things Barry had only imagined, knowing as he did what Snart’s upbringing had been like, what Lisa had told them, and Top obviously assumed that Snart, being a criminal, must have had a hard life. The things he detailed were so…raw. And so likely to be close to the truth, that Barry felt himself half believing this was a true admission, like this exchange between him and Cold had actually happened.
If only Snart would open up like this, had when Barry pushed back then. Barry would have been just as understanding as Ryder. It really lent itself to the narrative of Snart being capable of changing, which Barry was always an advocate and vocal proponent of. He didn’t want, or necessarily believe it was possible for Snart to give up being a thief, but be a good person? He could be that. He was a good person under the guile and goggles.
And Top had captured that perfectly.
nerdsdoitbetter
wow. thank you. so amazing. poor Cold. ;_; I really feel for him in this. I’m sure, if this happened, Flash would react exactly as you’ve written him.
withcoldontop
Wouldn’t that be something?
-----
@ereri-yaoi-lover
Len was shocked. Amazed even. That total strangers were defending him. In fact, they believed him to be good deep down and were supporting him. They were caring for him. Provided it was all from behind the safety of their screens and their anonymity online, but these were their real opinions and they meant so much to him. Even if none of these people would admit any of it out loud or publicly, just knowing how they really felt was enough for him.
He closed his eyes afraid he’d cry otherwise. He had learned how to suppress his emotions from a fairly young age, but right then they felt so raw and out of his control, he had to take in deep breaths just to think properly and to calm down.
A little over a month ago Len had stumbled upon the ColdFlash fandom by accident when he’d been looking into new reports on The Flash. He’d immediately been intrigued—fascinated with the stories and art, with the fandom itself, and how they supported Captain Cold and The Flash in a relationship together. They genuinely believed in both of them and wanted them to be happy. Len couldn’t fathom why these strangers were so hell bent on supporting him and wanted for him to be happy after knowing all the horrible things he’d done, but it slowly melted his frozen heart the more he exposed himself to them.
Considering the amount of time he’d spent behind reading fics and comics, after being pulled into the fandom headfirst, was it really a surprise that he started contributing to it himself? He’d become a popular writer in the fandom pretty quickly and for the most part enjoyed reading comments about his works.
Today, his readers were debating whether or not Captain Cold deserved redemption or happiness in the comments section under his latest work, a one shot called ‘Past and Present’, in which Captain Cold confesses the truth about his traumatizing past to Ryder, AKA The Flash, after they have some hot and steamy sex.
Len wrote about the actual truth. About how his father physically and mentally abused him and Lisa, about how he tortured them for laughs, calling them all ‘lessons’, and threatened them if they ever dared to even think about snitching on him.
About how he wasn’t strong enough to protect Lisa, about how he tried anyway, and how much he hated feeling so helpless and weak. About using himself as a shield to keep Lisa as safe as possible, and about how he would give up everything for her happiness. How as long as he was conscious he’d take all the lessons just to spare her.
About how much he hated himself for passing out during those said lessons because that meant he’d failed to protect Lisa and she’d get hurt next. About how guilty he felt for walking out on her. About how he knew he had to, to get stronger, to get strong enough to support her and himself. About how much he regretted leaving her behind with that monster, but also conflicted since he couldn’t run away with her, not while she was underage, and most definitely not while he was still weak and on the streets.
He wrote about the nightmare that was his childhood in reality. He confessed it all to Ryder since he couldn’t to Barry.
While most comments were positive and supportive, not all of them were. Some readers argued that because Cold was a villain, it didn’t matter what his past had been because he chose to be bad in present day. Some argued that The Flash was too good for a lowlife like Leonard Snart. Some left dumb, ignorant, or just plain awful comments, usually because they believed The Flash was better off with someone else. But none of the negativity was strong enough to ruin Len’s contentment.
Len made sure to never use The Flash’s real name, or the names of people to whom he was acquainted to, as a part of Team Flash in his writing. He even made sure not to use the names of the employees at CCPD unless already known in the papers. The challenging part Len had with that was that he couldn’t write about them, even with changed names, in great detail, since he knew them all in person and wouldn’t be able to play them off like strangers. So his stories only briefly mentioned them if at all.
Len had chosen the name Ryder for The Flash in his stories as an inside joke to Barry being a bottom and also because most writers chose boring everyday names for their version of The Flash, like John. He usually portrayed Ryder as a scientist who got his speed from dangerous self-experimentation. He couldn’t risk using STAR Labs as Team Flash’s headquarters so he called it The Lightening Dome instead in his stories. Len was also very careful not to use the nicknames Scarlet, Red, or Kid because those would definitely be a dead giveaway to his true identity if by some unwanted miracle, Barry or any of his acquaintances ended up reading his works. Besides, Len’s nicknames for Barry were private. Something only he was allowed to use. Him and him alone. No one else.
That’s when he saw a familiar name pop up in between the negative comments. Len’s online buddy: NerdsDoItBetter. He caught himself smiling openly, and didn’t bother trying to hide it. Out of all the ColdFlash fans, Nerd has been the most persistent about defending Captain Cold. To the point where arguments sometimes were turned into verbal fights, but he didn’t ever back down. Nerd never backed down.
Len rather liked Nerd, even though they had only known each other for about a month—give or take. He enjoyed Nerd’s work, whether it was his writing, art, or comics—they never ceased to delight him. He also enjoyed conversing with Nerd, about anything and everything. He found it very easy to talk to him and learned that he enjoyed the other’s company more than he had thought possible. The kid made everything much more interesting than it was in actuality.
They had become acquainted because of the fandom when Nerd had first left him a message in his tumblr inbox, asking for his help. And Len had helped him. He’d helped him come up with puns and some dialogue for Captain Cold since that was what Nerd was struggling with.
Speaking of whom, it was almost evening so the kid should be free, Len reminded himself, smiling. Evenings were their normal time range for relaxing in each other’s company and conversing. He decided that he didn’t want to wait any longer and opened another tab for tumblr. He was too eager to talk to Nerd again, he knew, but he couldn’t be bothered to worry. At least not right then.
XXXXX
withcoldontop
Good job. The new chapter was… well drawn. You’re getting better at coming up with your own puns for Captain Cold.
He sent NerdsDoItBetter the message on tumblr. Truly impressed with the fan comic Nerd was drawing and updating weekly.
nerdsdoitbetter
Thanks Top :D I was really excited about posting it, so I’m glad you liked it. I’ve gotten better with puns only because of your help honestly, so thanks again. ;D
withcoldontop
Not a problem. You’re entertaining and I usually have time to kill, so why not help?
nerdsdoitbetter
Entertaining? Me? If I’m entertaining to you, then your life must be very boring.
withcoldontop
Must be.
nerdsdoitbetter
Either that or you don’t have very many hobbies if you use me to kill time.
withcoldontop
Who knows? Maybe it’s just that I like spending time with you.
He imagined that if he were having this conversation with Barry, he’d be blushing like crazy to hear Len confess something like that, but also a little shocked at receiving an honest answer from him so easily.
nerdsdoitbetter
What do you think of this pun for The Flash: “You must be a hell of a thief because you stole my heart from across the room, Snart.” I wanted to use it for when ColdFlash meet at a coffee shop in the next chapter of my comic.
withcoldontop
Very cheesy. I love it.
nerdsdoitbetter
What about: “Looking a little hot there, Cold. Might wanna lose the parka.”
withcoldontop
“I could say the same for you, Flash. But I doubt you could get out of that suit fast enough.”
Len replied with a pun of his own, ‘roleplaying’ himself in the process.
nerdsdoitbetter
“But, Baby, it’s cold outside. Do you want me to freeze to death?”
withcoldontop
Clever. But don’t think you can beat me at my own game. I’m the king of puns, Nerd.
nerdsdoitbetter
I bet you I can, Top.
withcoldontop
Getting cocky now are we? Alright, fine. But this bet is Ice-Cold. Make sure to dress warm.
nerdsdoitbetter
Who said I was feeling cold? Maybe I’m burning up and need to cool down. Think you can help me out, Cold?
Len grunted. He couldn’t think of this as Barry. He had to stop now or he’d only be hurting himself. But damn it, if Barry ever told him something like that… maybe he could pretend for just a while longer.
withcoldontop
Didn’t think you had such boldness in you, Flash. Impressive. But two can play at that game. Think you can keep up?
nerdsdoitbetter
I’m faster than you think. The real question is can you?
withcoldontop
Now you’re just being frosty.
nerdsdoitbetter
Too fast for you to handle? You aren’t thinking of giving up now are you, Captain? The fun's just beginning.
withcoldontop
Never. Just biding my time. You know what they say about revenge… it’s a dish best served Ice-Cold.
nerdsdoitbetter
Hahaha, well sure - you’re slick, but I’m still pulling ahead. Prepare to lose, Snart.
withcoldontop
I’m shaking with fear. The big bad Flash is gonna catch me.
nerdsdoitbetter
Are you sure that’s what I’m planning? Maybe you won’t be so much caught as devoured.
withcoldontop
You’re giving me shivers.
nerdsdoitbetter
Are you sure it’s not just your cold gun chilling you?
withcoldontop
Positive.
nerdsdoitbetter
Bet you didn’t expect me to be a challenge.
withcoldontop
Nope. You caught me by surprise.
nerdsdoitbetter
Too shocking?
withcoldontop
Very. It’s electrifying.
nerdsdoitbetter
Running out of ideas yet? Because I can keep going.
withcoldontop
Scared I’ll steal your thunder if we keep it up?
nerdsdoitbetter
Please. You couldn’t even if you tried, Cold. You’re not fast enough to catch me.
withcoldontop
Maybe that’s the trick. One must be pretty cool to catch a speedster off guard.
nerdsdoitbetter
Maybe. But maybe it has nothing at all to do with speed. Maybe… it has to do with how bold you can be. Or whatever's hidden underneath that parka.
withcoldontop
Sorry, Nerd. I have to cut this short. This has been fun. But my sister needs me to help her with dinner. Let’s talk againtomorrow. We cancontinue this then ifyouwant.
Len typed too fast, making a few space errors. Lisa didn’t need him for dinner or anything else for that matter. She wasn’t even rushing him to get ready for their heist tonight. No, the problem was his imagination. He’d been so engrossed in pretending Nerd to be Barry that his brain forgot the pretending part, leaving him suddenly hard as he sat there. He couldn’t in good conscious continue the game when this required his attention away from his online friend.
nerdsdoitbetter
That’s all right. Guess you just aren’t quick enough to keep up with me, Top. I sooo win.
withcoldontop
Neither of us wins, Nerd. For now let’s call it a tie.
Len forced himself to focus on the words he was typing. Making sure to not make any more typos by accident.
nerdsdoitbetter
Fine. But I’ll definitely win the next time we do this. :P
Len quickly closed his laptop not caring about anything but the painful ache in his pants. He couldn’t worry about his attraction to Barry right then. He needed to take care of himself first.
XXXXX
“Hey, Barr!” Iris’s voice drifted in from the entrance of his lab.
“Ah!” Barry screamed, startled. He quickly closed his sketchbook and hid it under his current case files, using his speed to make sure Iris wouldn’t see him do so. The last thing he needed was for her to get suspicious; because once she was, she wouldn’t drop the subject until she got to the bottom of it. Besides, the thought of anyone—Iris or otherwise—finding his ColdFlash drawings was mortifying. The sketchbook had many chapters of his comics in it as well as some random sketches of Len.
“Please, don’t sneak up on me like that…” He managed to say as Iris made her way across the lab to the desk he was seated at. He slowly turned around towards her, knowing that his face was already a deep shade of crimson from embarrassment.
“I called you, but you weren’t picking up, so I figured you got caught up in work and came here to check on you myself. You were supposed to pick me up from work and take me to dinner, remember?” she asked, pausing for his confirmation, before smacking him on the arm. “Seriously? I can’t believe you forgot about our dinner plans again.”
“Sorry…” Barry apologized, trying to think up a good excuse but failing. He couldn’t just tell her that he’d lost track of time between working on his own comic, forensics, and his pun war/role-play with Top earlier. She’d ask too many questions and he didn’t want to deal with that right then.
“I’m kidding!” Iris announced, shaking with laughter. “I think you need a break, Barry. From the precinct and the patrols. We’re having dinner on Friday. Today’s Wednesday.”
“Oh… then why are you here?” Barry asked, confused, before scrambling to clear up his meaning, realizing how that sounded out loud. “Not that you’re not wanted here… I mean I’m glad you’re here. I love seeing you. You’re always welcome to be here whenever you please; I mean why wouldn’t you be? You’re my best friend, so of course—and I’m rambling again aren’t I?”
“A little bit.” Iris smiled, chuckling. He was glad to see her so amused, even if it was at his own expense.
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay. No need to apologize, silly. Dad told me you’ve been holed up here all day, and he was a little worried about you, so I told him I’d come by to make sure you were all right, so… here I am. To check up on you, and to make sure you eat something before I leave. I brought you your favorites from Big Belly Burger. How does that sound?” Barry’s stomach growled at the thought of food. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until Iris pulled out three huge bags of blissful smelling food. He quickly cleared off the table to make room for him to eat.
“Absolutely like heaven. Thank you. You are magnificent and amazing. This is exactly why I love you—one of the reasons anyway.”
“Keep the compliments coming. You, Mr. Barry Allen, should thank me more often. It’ll definitely earn you some brownie points.” Iris teased, laughing.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” He replied, laughing along with her. This was nice. He’d missed this. Between being a superhero, his day job, and his contributions to the ColdFlash fandom he’d been too busy to make time for anything else. And similarly, Iris had been too caught up in chasing stories for Picture News, while being invested in the fandom as Linda’s co-writer on the side.
“Anyway, I have to meet up with Linda soon to work on… you know what.” Iris smirked deviously, knowing that Barry knew exactly what she meant. “So I was thinking of heading out soon.” She hinted, and he understood. He understood her best as she did him. She wanted to make sure he was fine before leaving and needed to make sure that he was cool with it since it had been a while since they’d seen one another.
He blamed them for his new obsession, as they were the ones who’d exposed him to the ColdFlash fandom. He’d caught the two of them discussing fan fiction about The Flash and Captain Cold, about a month ago, when he’d gone to pick Iris up from work one evening. He’d become curious once the initial shock dissipated, and had looked into it not being able to function without sating his curiosity, only to get sucked right into the fandom.
“By all means, don’t let me keep you.” Barry laughed, starting to eat his food at normal speed to savor the flavor. “Mmmmm… fast food is the best. Thank you, really... I won’t forget about our dinner plans on Friday—promise.” Barry joked along, taking another bite. “Do you want me to drop you off at Linda’s place before I head to the labs?”
“Nah, I got it. Thanks for the offer though.” Iris said, placing a kiss to his forehead and pulling him into a quick hug. “Say hi to Cisco and Caitlin for me and make sure to be careful on patrol. I’ll see you later.”
“Yeah, okay. It’s no problem. And sure, I will, but you should come stop by at the labs soon. I know Caitlin would love to see you.”
“I’ll do that. As soon as I have more time.” Iris promised, before heading out.
Barry was still eating, taking his time to enjoy his tasty meal, when his phone started to ring. He knew it was Cisco calling without even looking at the caller ID.
“What’s up?”
“Barry, you need to get over here right now! The Rogues just made away with four of the world’s rarest gems, ever. I borrowed some military technology and used both ultraviolet cold signatures and infrared heat signatures to track down their guns. I’ll direct you to where they are over the coms once you suit up.”
“Got it. Be there in a flash.” Barry hung up before Cisco could call him out. He’d walked into that pun without even trying, and he blamed WithColdOnTop and Captain Cold for it. He wolfed down the last of his meal and sped over to the labs as fast as he could.
“Well, well, well… if it isn’t the Scarlet Speedster himself.” Captain Cold smirked, amused. “I was starting to think you weren’t going to show.”
“Where’s the rest of your team?” Barry asked, sternly.
“Gone.”
“Of course they are. And let me guess, they have the gems too, don’t they?”
“You catch on quick.” He confirmed.
“But apparently you don’t. Using an empty cargo train as your getaway vehicle is actually pretty clever and safe, but not enough to evade me. Stopping you here, like this, is child’s play. I could probably do it within a second.” Barry stated. If he was being honest with himself, he felt a little insulted. This was by no means a challenge.
“But you won’t. Because I know your name, Barry Allen.” Len threatened.
“Is this you not trying to escape again? Because it seems to me like you really want me to catch you. You should’ve just used your bike for your getaway.”
“But then we wouldn’t be having this lovely conversation.”
“It would’ve been much faster and harder for us to track you down.”
“Please, we both know what you’re capable of, and that nothing could be fast enough to outrun you. Unless… are you implying that I ride you the next time I need to make my escape, Scarlet?” Len teased, and Barry knew he was turning red. He felt the way his body was heating up from the thought, and he really needed to stop thinking about all the smutty fics he’d read recently, because the last thing he needed right then was a boner.
“I can’t just let you go… you’ve stolen something too high profile, Snart. Return the gems o-or I’m locking you away.” Barry bluffed, needing to change the topic.
“But you won’t.”
“Oh yeah? And why’s that?” he challenged, uncertain of what he’d really do.
“Because there are sixteen bombs planted in the city. And you’ll need my help to get to them. You can’t catch me and save Central.”
“But we have a deal! You promised not to hurt anyone.”
“No, I promised not kill innocent people, and I haven’t forgotten that. The bombs are my contingency plan. Mick and Lisa have the detonators, so if I’m a no show, there will be chaos.”
“I can’t believe you! You’re such an asshole!”
“Don’t be so cold, Barry. I’m not so bad. A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.” Len smirked, teasingly, but Barry was too pissed off to admire it. “So what do you say? Do we have a deal, Flash?”
“If anyone gets hurt because of this, I’m done. I’ll hand you over to the Green Arrow, and something tells me he won’t be as nice.” Barry promised. “Now tell me how to find them.”
“Here’s the location of the first bomb.” Len answers, holding out a piece of paper. You’ll find the rest of the locations tapped to the bombs, one each. Meaning if I were you, I wouldn’t be wasting my time here. The clock’s ticking, Flash. Let’s see just how fast you can complete my scavenger hunt.”
Barry zoomed out of there, relying on Cisco and Caitlin to guide him. He dropped off both the bombs and the address notes one after the other, since he didn’t want to risk more than one explosion at any given location. His heart was hammering even after securing the city. He was upset that Cold would even think of—let alone make—a contingency plan like this.
“The bombs are all duds. Fakes.” Cisco announced, and Barry let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Of course he was relieved, but more than that he was secretly happy. Len never intended to break his promise. He’d just been smarter and had tricked Barry into letting him go. “But, they do carry little messages inside of each one.”
“Line them in the correct order following the numbers on the back, and it reads: I told you I’m a man of my word; I would never harm innocent people deliberately,” Caitlin said, reading out loud.
Barry flashed over to where she was standing to read the words himself. The notes were handwritten; meaning Len had taken the time just for him, and he felt weirdly flattered. He couldn’t wait for their next encounter. Because next time, he’d make sure to one up him.
-----
@wolvesofinnistrad
Flash was practically vibrating with need. He knew it was wrong, knew that giving in to this carnal desire would only lead to trouble. And yet, he couldn’t seem to keep his cool around Captain Cold, around Snart, no, Len, anymore.
Lithe fingers grasped the front of that damnable parka, pulling the other man closer, so close that when Len’s breath puffed into the air it ghosted over Flash’s lips, like winter’s kiss. Oh how he trembled at that, the barest hint of contact, the tease of more to come, if only, if only he could get over himself.
A cool smirk rested on Len’s face. It wasn’t cold or calculating this time, but amused, interested. The cold gun rested safely holstered at his hip, a constant pressure against his thigh, the cold seeping through his pants, but warmed by the new proximity to the Flash. To the object of his desires.
It’d taken a long while to admit this, but he’d always had a thing for twinks, and for all reservations about certain types of porn, the leather was certainly suited to that youthful, toned body. His own hands rested on the other’s hips, thumbs rubbing at the material, so warm against his palms, a welcome relief from the chill of his weapon.
The seconds ticked by, and for once Len lost count of them, but not before his mind recognized their silence had went on interminably long. A tilt of the head, lick of the lips, and the Flash’s attention drew back to his eyes, catching for the first time since they’d moved closer.
“Well, well, it looks like I finally found a way to slow you down, Flash.”
The Flash smiled, dazzling even in the low light emitted from the streetlights up above. His head shook as he gave the older man an incredulous look. “Really? Puns even now?”
“What, you going to give me the cold shoulder if I don’t stop, Flash?” Len’s retort was full of mirth, and the way the smile extended to his eyes made the costumed hero weak in the knees. A difficult feat for a man who runs at his speed.
“Does this look cold to you?” Before Len knew what was going on, the world seemed to fly by in flashes and suddenly they were in a room he’d never seen before.
Len whistled, a high timbred sound that escaped in a whoosh as he turned to the room. “Bringing a man back to your place, you really do move fast, huh?”
The Flash didn’t say anything, just pulled off that cowl to reveal a mess of hair, repeating his early action and reeling Cold in by the sides of the parka.
Their lips pressed against each other and what he’d expected to be a battle, a fight for dominance like every other time was instead a communion. A joining of two opposites that somehow balanced out. Neither pulled away until they were both panting for air, and once they did, it only took moments for the accoutrements of their assumed identities to fall away, discarded haphazardly about the room as they hastened towards the bed.
The Flash, no, Ryder he’d asked to be called, lay against the pristine sheets. His body arched and writhed as those cool lips traveled along overheated skin, tracing imaginary lines across shoulders, over ribs and abdominals.
“Len!” the man groaned, fingers scrabbling for purchase on the pillow beneath his head as his nemesis took him into his mouth. The sight was obscene, watching the man swallow him down easily, Len’s own manhood hanging heavy between his legs, a sight to behold. Intimidating and enticing all at once. Ryder was going to be in for a long night.
A long, hard night.
“Losing Track of Time” by WithColdOnTop
XXXXX
“Fuck!” Barry whimpered as he pushed away from his computer. Top had done it again. Yet another fic that had him itching to unbuckle his pants, pull himself out and just let go. There were quite a few that he’d bookmarked, and this wasn’t even one of the longer ones, but it had been an early one, before Top had really found his voice, and those were always some of his favorites.
It was an odd thought, but it seemed more real in a way, not tainted by what others had written yet, flowing freely from the other person’s mind onto the page, or browser as it were.
Barry saved the fic and picked his laptop up, moving over towards the bed. Stepping towards the door, he made sure it was locked before turning on some music. He definitely didn’t want Joe to know what he was doing.
The lube sat in his drawer, practically taunting him until he grabbed it and tossed it on the bed, along with a few tissues for easy cleanup afterwards. He stripped out of his clothes, taking his time instead of flashing out of them like usual. Barry wanted to save that buzzing energy beneath his skin a bit longer.
The bed felt soft against his skin, cool, but certainly not as cool as his little alter ego felt having Len’s lips all over his body. He bet the man was cold, but considering how hot Barry ran most days he figured that’d be a bonus, not a drawback.
And that was what level he’d stooped to; not only reading about himself having sex with his nemesis, but being actively jealous of the created civilian alter ego of the Flash in the Top’s fics. At least he’d picked a good writer, the last time he tried this he got into it without reading the tags and had gotten a shock when The Trickster showed up in the fic and he’d exited out so fast, but too late, the mental image had already ruined that author for him.
That was one of the reason’s he liked Top, the author only wrote ColdFlash, so he never had to worry about someone else getting involved. Finally deciding to follow the fake Barry in the fic—or rather, Ryder—and just get over his own roiling internal drama, Barry began to stroke himself as he reread the lurid details of Cold sucking his counterpart off.
This was about the only place he went slowly anymore. This was the one thing he could afford to drag out and let simmer, allow that heat to pool in his gut until it spilled over and consumed him in that purifying wave of pleasure.
Deft fingers circled his head, letting his pre-cum act as a natural lubricant as his eyes scanned the page, soaking in each detail, imagining exactly how it’d feel to have the older man swallowing around him, nose pressed to his treasure trail, tongue flicking over the head first, then the underside and driving him wild.
A gasp followed his shuddering breath as the pleasure began to seep into his joints, relaxing him and helping him let go of the anxiety that riddled him. He still wasn’t sure why he felt this way about these fics or what exactly it meant in the real world, but here in the sanctuary of his own room, he could indulge whatever stupid, licentious fantasies he wanted.
He stopped for a moment as the narrative, and Cold’s mouth, moved lower. He wasn’t ready for that, not yet. He took his time, picturing everything in his mind, working himself up well and good until his legs began to slide open, feet planted firmly on the bed.
Searching out the bottle of lube, he coated two fingers before pressing them to his entrance and rubbing around the rim. The wait was killing him now, but he had to be slow, even more so if he really wanted to give it to himself good tonight and, judging by the fic he was reading, he was aiming for that.
By the time he was writhing around, one finger sinking into that hot heat, the Cold, the Len in the story had moved onto two, and so he picked up his pace, if only a little. When he caught up, he curled his fingers, pressing them against his prostate and vibrating.
Barry cried out, a broken sob that he only stifled by biting his lip almost hard enough to draw blood. This was one thing that he knew the real Len couldn’t do to him, but that didn’t matter much as he began to lose track of anything but the vibrations coursing through his entire body. His face scrunched up in pleasure and longing, eyes getting a bit bleary as he attempted to keep reading, skimming most of it now, only catching words here and there.
He knew what was going to happen, what always happened in these fics, but when the fictional Len had Ryder sobbing on three thick, calloused fingers, Barry was pressing that third of his own inside and twisting. It was the most glorious torture, and he could almost believe that Len would enjoy that, knowing that even in his fantasies he was beating Barry.
Barry lost track of what was going on somewhere around the time he hit his first orgasm and the fic was almost done. He just kept going, keeping his digits buried deep, exploring his own body, dragging his senses to new heights. The thrum of speed against that spot was electrifying, coursing through his veins, blood roaring in exultation.
His stomach was coated in a mix of dried, flaking release and newer, still warm cum pooling on his belly. The tissues came in handy now, wiping his body down before leaving kudos on the work he’d been perusing and logging out for the night. He could probably go at least once more, but he was satisfied for now. Besides, he didn’t really feel like searching for another story that would get him going again. Closing his laptop, he pushed all thoughts of Len, of Top, and anyone else from his mind as best he could and closed his eyes.
XXXXX
It wasn’t often that Len wished he had longer hair, but right now, as he tried to run his fingers through nonexistent locks, he regretted always shaving it.
Honestly Nerd’s art made him angry at moments. Not because it was bad or anything like that but because it was the biggest tease. He had Len pegged exactly, the art so lifelike when he went for realistic that he didn’t even have to imagine it was him, it just was. The worst of it though was that it made him ache for it to be real. It wasn’t something he was proud of, nor something he let himself think of often, but when he did break down and let himself feel, he knew it to be true.
Right now his arms were wrapped around himself tightly, clutching at biceps as he stared in consternation and maybe a bit of longing, at the newest fanart Nerd had posted. Ten seconds, that’s how much longer he’d allow himself to look at this particular drawing.
One second… The Flash’s arms encircling Len’s middle.
Two seconds… His parka’s hood pulled down to reveal his face.
Three seconds… Len’s face turning to look back at the Flash.
Four seconds… The bright, shy smile as the Flash looks back at Len like he’s all he can see.
Five seconds… The faint blush creeping into Len’s cheeks, surely nothing to do with the cold.
Six seconds… Flash’s hands skimming over the hem of Len’s shirt.
Seven seconds… Fingers brushing over the barest hint of skin peeking out from where his shirt is riding up.
Eight seconds… One arm reaching up to pull the Flash closer to him.
Nine seconds… Another hand coming to rest over the Flash’s.
Ten seconds… Both of them looking so happy, so complete, so carefree.
Tearing his eyes away he blinked rapidly, trying to clear the image from his mind, but losing that fight handily. Certainly this one was bad, it made him think things, feel things, but he knew how he could get over this.
The cursor moved to that little bar, finding his Bookmarks and searching through the short list. It wasn’t something he could devote much time to, stealing and ditching laptops as often as he did, but these few he had saved to a private e-mail address, copying each URL and saving them again with each new iteration of laptop he acquired.
Only a few moments later and Len was treated with one of his favorites. The Flash lay on his back on a bed, face and most of his upper body obscured, drawn to look as if you were seeing through his eyes. His toned abdominals were on full display though, a little tuft of hair right at the waist of his sleep pants that hung low on his hips.
That would have been enough to get Len going if he were painfully honest, although there was something even better that often caught his eye. In between the Flash’s legs was himself, Len in all his Captain Cold regalia. One knee bent on the bed as he climbed on, the other still balancing him on the floor. Eyes obscured by his goggles, but the way Nerd drew his face was, well, it was exactly how he’d be looking at Barry if he had him all to himself.
Even without seeing his eyes, the sensuality, the carnal desire was all there. The way his lips were turned up in a smirk, but not just any smirk, a pleased one, a teasing one, not just his typical devil may care twitch of lips. This was about as close to actual smut as he figured Nerd was likely to get and it both stunned him and infuriated him. The guy could probably draw some of the best erotic art he’d ever seen if he’d just get over his prudishness, or whatever it was, and slap a few cocks on the page.
Of course, Len respected his wishes, that he didn’t draw that kind of art, and, if he were so inclined, he might even think it sweet that the other man could refrain from turning the ship as intensely sexual as he had. Then again, Nerd didn’t have to actually deal with Scarlet running in circles around him all the time, flaunting that lithe young body in all that form fitting leather, or whatever it was Cisco had made the suit out of.
He’d considered writing a fic for this drawing once, but he wasn’t sure of Nerd would be flattered or upset, so he’d held off. Maybe one day he’d ask him about it, but for now he kept this one to himself.
As his imagination began to pick up the story where the picture left off he unzipped his pants and pulled himself out. His cock was heavy in his hand, not quite hard yet, but it’s considerable mass more than enough to heft even without full arousal. Soon enough it would be as he leaned back, eyes closed, wishing, not for the first time, that his fantasies could come alive on the page in real time as he saw them in his head. It’d save him so much time writing his little fanfiction works if he could just use his own masturbatory fantasies.
He often did that anyway, but killing two birds with one stone would be helpful since he didn’t have as much time as he liked to just sit down and write most nights what with his frequent stints, however short lived, in Iron Heights and planning crimes while also trying to rein in the Rogues.
A breathy gasp left his lips as his twentieth stroke came up, sucking the bottom lip between his teeth. His thumb rolled over the pink tip, filled with blood and sensitive to the touch. Pre-cum smeared over his fingers and hand, adding a bit of much needed lubrication as he continued to increase his pace. It figured the one thing he often did fast, ironically, would be the one time he’d slow down when it involved the Flash.
The sweater he was wearing was made of thick wool, and he used his free hand to pull it up, in part to keep it clean when he inevitably tipped over the edge, and also to allow access to his nipples, which he began to pinch and tweak. His breathing came faster now, counting off the seconds as he neared orgasm, a practiced amount of time, ever changing, but still controlled, still parsed out.
With Mick and Lisa’s unpredictability he always had to keep pace, find out how fast he could cum when he had to get off, but also how long he could push himself when it was him and him alone in the safe house. Tonight was not going to be one of those long nights of edging though, however he may want it.
As he imagined Barry on the floor beneath the squalid table, knees of his jeans scuffed up by the dingy old tiles, lips red and swollen as they slipped around his aching cock, he felt the heat pool in his stomach. One, two, three more strokes and he was arching into the chair, striping his stomach with his release and panting as he came down from it.
Grabbing a rag from the table he wiped himself off, smearing a bit of grease that was on the rag across his belly and frowning. Now he’d really need a shower. Making a note to go back and save the newest piece of art from Nerd to his little collection, he cleared his browser history and locked the computer before shutting it off and heading back to what counted for a room here. At least he’d have warm water for the shower, and thanks to his quick session just now, he’d actually be able to endure that instead of a cold one.
-----
@dragdragdragon
For the last few days, Top had been messaging him back and forth. They had been sharing these ridiculously beautiful headcanons that caused Barry to rethink all of his real life interactions with Snart.
Snart had always been the criminal with a code. Someone who Barry knew could be better, who could do good. Despite that, Snart’s persona, Cold, made him a caricature in Barry’s mind with his dramatic gestures and love of puns.
But then, Lewis Snart had returned to Central City to terrorize his children. He was ready to murder his own daughter. The very thought of him, despite his dead status, still twisted Barry’s stomach into knots of fury.
It made Barry re-evaluate his gigantic crush on Captain Cold, on Snart. It was then Barry knew it was more than superficial. That he actually cared about Snart.
The headcanons Top and Barry had been sharing…it shook something inside of him.
The possibility of Len always wanting a cat or a dog, but feeling as if he didn’t have enough stability. The way Len might look if Ryder brought home an older scruffy black cat and a rambunctious poodle terrier mix from the shelter.
The way Len and Ryder might lounge in bed. Len having a preference on what he wore to sleep in: soft gray sweats and an oversized worn T-shirt. Len being shy about his scars, about his bare skin. Barry hadn’t even consider Snart would have a map of them on his body.
The way Len might smile at Barry - er, Ryder - with a tiny lift of the lips, but bright, shiny eyes.
The headcanons had snuck under Barry’s skin and burrowed into his heart. They made Barry yearn to learn the way Snart looked when waking up; how he took his coffee; if he even liked waffles.
So when Top messaged him, Barry’s heart soared at the thought of more headcanons about domesticity and Len.
XXXXX
withcoldontop
Hey, Nerd. Have a question for you.
nerdsdoitbetter
Hi Top ;D! Ask away.
withcoldontop
Happy you’re not giving me the cold shoulder. :) Do you take commissions?
nerdsdoitbetter
Cold shoulder? Me? Ha. never for you.
On a serious note, yes! I do take commissions.
withcoldontop
I have a fic that I’m almost done with. There’s a scene I have in mind that I would love for you to illustrate. Would you be game?
nerdsdoitbetter
YES, tell me more!!!!
withcoldontop
This is the scene I have in mind:
XXXXX
Barry’s mouth was open in shock; heat rising up his neck as he stared at the message.
Barry’s vision swam. How did he dig himself into this hole? Why did he agree without asking for the scene first? Top was known for their fantastic pieces that somehow embedded nuanced emotions in smut.
Smut that just burned into your brain, that blew your mind and drove you crazy; smut that Barry may or may not have jerked off to (and definitely not multiple times a story). Smut that made him cry sometimes at the cruelty. Len’s insecurity and worry about being good enough for the Flash broke Barry’s heart every time and always reminded him of his own fears.
XXXXX
Len traces Ryder’s neck with his tongue as he tugs on Ryder’s left nipple. Ryder shivers against him, almost to a state of vibration. Len steadies Ryder by gripping tightly the sharp jut of his hip. Len bites the junction between Ryder’s neck and shoulder. His gasps rile Len up, causing him to rut against the speedster.
Len closes his eyes for a second to imagine what they must look like together. Ryder is completely naked and on display with his beautiful hard cock, angry red and leaking precum, jolting every time Len touches him. Only his face is hidden by a mask. Len’s own face is naked with affection and tenderness. Len, fully clothed in a dark blue sweater with the sleeves scrunched up to the elbows and his tattoos visible, is wrapped around Ryder from the back.
When Ryder tries to turn to face Len, Len buries his face into the other man’s soft hair. Len can’t let Ryder see the emotions, the desire and need on his face, can’t let Ryder see his vulnerability. It’s been getting harder and harder to protect himself from Ryder’s bright heart. Len wants to let go, but knows these trysts will end one day with his heart in pieces.
Len distracts Ryder by letting his hand trail down his abs in order to grab Ryder’s dick.
“F-f-fuck,” Ryder says as his face grows flushed from exertion and want. “Please,” he begs, panting as he juts his ass against Len’s cock.
Len chokes out a moan.
XXXXX
withcoldontop
still there?
nerdsdoitbetter
is dead and never reviving. Wow. wooooow.
withcoldontop
Does this mean you’ll draw it?
XXXXX
Barry started to type, “Well, I’m not-” before erasing it.
He tried again, “Your writing is amazing, but I don’t know how I would do this? My work typically runs at the worst in the PG-13 range and I’m super flattered, but asdf;lkj-”
Ugh. Barry didn’t want to let Top down. He didn’t exactly want to say yes either. His hands were tingling, every nerve end lighting up. He took a deep breath to calm his anxiety. He needed to respond, before Top got offended.
XXXXX
nerdsdoitbetter
I’m just curious. But why me? You’ve seen my work, so you know NSFW isn’t in my repertoire.
withcoldontop
Your work has a whimsical quality to it and always so beautiful. You’re a master of line and color. You haven’t posted any smut, but I know you have it in you. ;)
nerdsdoitbetter
keysmash. Seriously, no words. I’m blushing really hard right now.
Honestly, I don’t know if I have it in me. But I can try?
withcoldontop
That’s all I ask.
XXXXX
Barry dropped his face onto his keyboard. The keys pressed against his face typed out gibberish into the messenger. He was fucked.
XXXXX
Barry jabbed the back button as soon as he could. His eyes were melting out from his face. Never ever Google ‘dick pics.’ Why did he think that was a good idea?
Barry felt like he would never be able to wash the slime off of his skin after that.
If Barry couldn’t use the internet for help, then he’d have to figure out another way. He knew if he found the right search term, he wouldn’t be scarred for life. But the thought of making more attempts caused his face to pale.
Barry stared down at his fidgeting hands and the torn fabric of his jeans framing his bare knee, and it was that very moment that he came up with the worst idea ever.
It was going to be swell.
XXXXX
Len stared at his screen without blinking for what felt like minutes. Nerd had outperformed all of his expectations.
Len had initially sought out Nerd because the kid had chops, with the puns battle and all. After finding so much downtime after a particularly glorious battle with The Flash, Len had gravitated towards Nerd’s tumblr in particular, striking up multiple conversations with him about domestic things Cold and The Flash would do together, like how Cold would react to an actual cold.
‘Impossible,’ Len groused, ‘Cold never got sick.’ Nerd actually had the audacity to argue back about how ridiculous Cold would be.
It was good thing that their ColdFlash headcanons would never come true. Len wouldn’t be able to deal with the eventual heartbreak.
Len had been a great admirer of Nerd’s art since before they started messaging each other. Not just in technical skill, but the way each drawing evoked intimacy and warmth and the way their work made his heart twist at the thought of ‘Cold’ actually being happy (another impossible thing).
When Len was finishing up his latest story, a new drawing popped up on his feed. Nerd had drawn one of their headcanons. They had depicted Cold just waking up wearing an oversized soft baby blue shirt. Cold’s sleepy face, on the edge of waking, was Len’s face, the exact one that stared back at him in the bathroom mirror in the morning. It was unreal, but also gave Len a bright idea.
Len liked subtly putting people in uncomfortable positions, liked forcing them to reevaluate their world view. Even though they knew each only online, Len’s impulse towards Nerd was not any different.
Not only did Len want beautiful artwork intertwined into his story, he wanted to push Nerd into doing something new. If it happened to add fuel to Len’s already active fantasies, so be it.
What Nerd came back with was stunning and unbelievable, but also very different from their usual work. Typically, their work contained line drawings in ink or color pencil. This time, they still employed sharp inked lines, but layered shades of rich colors using the opaqueness of watercolors. Instead of precision, the colors ran outside of the lines, sometimes dripping downwards off the bodies and other times in blotches to simulate the hazy sensual desire Cold and Flash shared, but also, the uncertainty and wonder radiating off of Cold’s posture.
The sharp contours of skin and bone and the faint red flush depicted on Flash’s very naked body was contrasted by the darkness of Cold’s clothing. The dark puffs of hair sticking out from the red mask fanned delicately against Cold’s vulnerable face. The Flash’s dick nestled in curls of dark hair was proudly on display, just as Cold’s body was hidden and obscured by the dark surroundings and Flash’s radiant body.
It was nothing short of perfection. It managed to grasped everything Len was trying to portray in the fic, without giving too much of himself away, despite the fact that Nerd had only read small snippets.
XXXXX
nerdsdoitbetter
so is it ok? Do you like it?
withcoldontop
Like it? This is the most stunning drawing I’ve seen. I adore it.
nerdsdoitbetter
Wow. I’m so happy you like it! I always get nervous when people pay me for this.
withcoldontop
You really shouldn’t feel that way. You’re talented.
nerdsdoitbetter
Can I mail you the drawing? If you want! I know it would be weird giving out an address to some random joe on the internet, but I would really like you to have it. Especially since I made it for you.
XXXXX
Len didn’t know if he deserved to keep the drawing, but he knew exactly where to hang it, slotted neatly next to Mapplethorpe’s black and white nudes and Warhol’s polaroids.
There was a reason why he kept a P.O. Box handy.
Len quickly typed out his mailbox address and hit send before he could change his mind.
XXXXX
withcoldontop
Thank you.
nerdsdoitbetter
My pleasure. :D
Just as an FYI, I probably won’t be drawing NSFW stuff again.
withcoldontop
We’ll see about that. ;P
-----
@ladyofpride
It was entirely an accident on Len’s part—well, a calculated allowance of breaking the rules, to be honest, because he was aware of what he was doing. After all, it wasn’t as if the Scarlet Speedster was pouring over ColdFlash fanfiction and fanart the way Len was on a regular basis. And it was such an adorable detail to include, a hilarious memory for Len, even if only he, Flash, Cisco, and that woman who had been in attendance had been present to witness it. He couldn’t resist included it in his most recent fanfic.
No one would ever know.
XXXXX
When Barry saw it, he just about lost his mind.
There was definitely a horrible moment of dissociation, where a cold sweat broke out on the back of his neck and his fingers went a little numb, and his vision got a little foggy around the edges as he suddenly forgot to breathe, because, oh fuck, how could he have been so blind…
To any outside observer, Top’s most recent fic was just another sweet hunk of witty banter and mind-blowing smut. Not entirely plotless, mind you, because they built it up with this comical scene where ‘Ryder’ was momentarily powerless and freaking out just a little, exactly as Barry did on occasion, especially when a metahuman was about to go to town on him. So his character grabbed one of those hand held vacuum cleaners and tried to pass it off as a genuine weapon, which got Barry laughing a little at first, until he read the whole story over again at a more relaxing pace and realized that that particular scene was not purely a work of fiction.
“…Oh shit,” he muttered, remembering all too well that one time Cisco saved him from getting frosted over by decking an old vacuum cleaner out with LED lights and pretending it was the Cold Gun 1.0. Nobody knew what had gone down between Snart and Barry that fateful night except for Felicity and the other members of his team. Well—and Len himself, of course, but there’s no way in hell…he wouldn’t…
Barry pushed his chair back from his desk abruptly and wobbled to his feet. He needed—oh god—he didn’t know what he needed. To confirm it wasn’t Len, probably? But that left just Cisco and Caitlin, whom he highly doubted blabbered to anyone outside of Team Flash. Or, of course…well, maybe…
Barry winced, because he was perched precariously at the point of no return here. Either Felicity was into him way more than he felt comfortable letting Oliver ever know, or Leonard Snart was riding the exact same train toward fantasy and desire that he was. And honestly, neither one of those two scenarios really appealed to him at the moment, because in one case he’d probably have to deal with the wrath of Oliver, and in the other he would be forced to face the carnal yearnings of a world class criminal and long standing rival.
This… this couldn’t be happening to him.
But it was, and the tension building in every muscle in his body was getting to be a little too much to bear, so he slipped into his tripolymer suit and took a quick run across Central City in the hopes of alleviating some of that pressure. He wound up preventing a fatal four car collision and stopped a robbery in progress at the First National Bank while he was at it, and slowly he began to feel a little better again, because losing himself to that stream of pure energy had always been a sure-fire way of shifting his focus away from the more traumatic aspects of his life—and then he finally felt calm enough to sit back down in front of the computer in his bedroom, pick up his cell phone, and text Felicity: Do you have a minute?
He needed more than just ‘a minute’ actually, but he had no idea how to start this loaded conversation, and it was as good an opener as any he was ever going to come up with, considering his current state of mind.
Not two seconds later, he got a reply:
Felicity: For you, always! What’s up?
Barry bit down hard on his lower lip, fingers flying over his phone as he typed in his next message: I’m trying to retrace my steps from an earlier mission and I was wondering if you could help me.
Felicity: Absolutely! Having trouble hacking into the security feed somewhere? Just give me the time and place.
Barry took a deep breath: Actually, it was one of the missions you were here for…Do you happen to remember the first time I ever encountered Captain Cold?
He was expecting a split-second response, but it took Felicity a full thirty seconds to type:
Felicity: …
Felicity: …
Felicity: …
Immediately, Barry felt as though the bottom had fallen out of his world. Obviously, she knew something was up—or, maybe Felicity told someone she shouldn’t have. Maybe she betrayed him—not intentionally, of course, because she would never willingly put him in harm’s way. Or...
Or maybe he was just overreacting and she wa simply combing through old CCTV footage from the night in question?
Felicity: I knew it.
Barry swallowed hard, because, oh crap, what was it she knew?
He didn’t have much time to wonder because almost immediately his phone started ringing. Sure enough, Felicity’s smiling face and number popped up on his screen, judging him from 600 miles away in Starling City.
Barry cursed under his breath, then tried to compose himself as he hit ‘answer’ and pressed the phone against his ear. “Uh, Felicity, hi! Look, if you’re busy right now—”
“Barry Allen—Shut. Up. I’m about to ask you a very important question and if you try to lie to me I will find out.”
He swallowed hard again. “Are…are you mad at me?”
“Hell no, but I’ve had this little theory rolling around inside my brain for god knows how many weeks already, and I didn’t want to look too deeply into it because I try really hard not to spy on my friends and, and—did you or did you not write ‘Human for a Day’?”
Barry quite literally choked on the little bit of phlegm hanging at the back of his throat, because there was no way in hell she would know about that fic unless she had a good look at it herself. “Y-you read it?!”
“A-ha! So you did.”
“No, actually,” he replied, mortified. “But, I mean…you read stories about Cold and I doing things in…you know, the bedroom?”
“Well, yes, but…” She paused a moment here to clear her throat, obviously trying to figure out a way around his accusation, “You know, I only did it for stalker-ish purposes—to monitor potential stalkers, I mean, because who knows what weird stuff people convince themselves to do after vocalizing the darkest fantasies of their minds?”
“‘Human for a Day’ was not a dark fantasy,” he argued. “I lost my powers for an hour while fighting a metahuman and then ran into Leonard Snart five minutes later.”
“…who then exploited your powerless state to trip you into bed. Clearly the author needs to add ‘dubious consent’ to the tag list before I write them a scathing review.”
“What are you talking about?” he muttered. “That sex was consensual from beginning to end. I tied his hands to the headboard and then rode him so hard he saw stars. I was in complete control of the situation, and that’s the point he was trying to make—that my powers aren’t necessarily what make me ‘powerful’.”
“I know, I’m just baiting you.”
Barry winced, because, good lord, here he was, arguing over fictional sex.
Fictional sex with his arch nemesis.
Mind blowing fictional sex with his arch nemesis…
“Look, please don’t die from embarrassment, Barry. I just wanted to know how active of a member you were of the ColdFlash fandom. Given your expert analysis though, I’m going to hazard a guess and say you’re quite the regular…”
“Felicity…”
“Relax, I won’t tell anyone if you don’t, because, honestly, I don’t know how Oliver would handle the fact that I’m reading porn about you, regardless of my motives. Let’s just figure out who our mystery author is and then call it a night, okay?”
“I think I can pretty much guess who it is.”
“My bet is on the ol’ Captain too. Just give me ten minutes to pop off and assist Oliver with something and then I’ll call you back immediately with an answer.”
“Uh, thank you, Felicity.”
“No problem, Barry.”
He waited until he heard the little ping as she hung up, then just sat there, staring at his computer screen in absolute silence.
He was slowly starting to break out in a cold sweat again, heart hammering against his chest. As it stood, he had absolutely no doubt in his mind that the mysterious author was Len, because the level of intimacy that he expressed between their characters, that ability to balance their most extreme traits both in the bedroom and on the battlefield, smacked of the highly observant and strategic mind of one Leonard Snart. And really, that’s what got Barry sucked into the fandom in the first place, that glorious moment when he thought he’d found someone who understood who he was despite the constant secrecy he had to uphold in the public’s eye. It felt like something special to be known and worshipped by some stranger who could put into words the thoughts and feelings he had trouble harmonizing in his own mind. It made him feel like something more than just a ‘hero’.
Now though…
Now he didn’t know.
There was a part of him that was terrified by the obvious level of obsession Len had with him—almost embarrassed by the fact that Len had probably pictured him naked under his suit at one time or another, thinking about all the things he’d like to do to Barry once he got his hands on him. However, there was another part of him that wished Len would’ve reached out to him already, to make those fantasies a reality. He loved their witty banter almost as much as he would’ve loved to submit himself to Len’s whims, to just lay himself bare and let Len crawl over him, to close his eyes and spread his knees a little to accommodate—
Mortified, Barry realized he was suddenly rock hard.
Just then, his phone started ringing again.
It took Barry a moment to regain his composure, but eventually he mustered the courage to hit ‘answer’. Tentatively then, he asked, “Felicity?”
“…All I’m going to say is that if his dick is half the size he says it is, you need to hop on that bad boy before he finds himself infatuated with somebody else.”
Groaning, Barry immediately hot ‘end call’ before she could share any more pearls of wisdom.
The last thing he needed was for her to find out he agreed…
-----
@daughterofscotland
They gazed into each other’s eyes, Ryder getting lost in the deep blue of Len’s stare. The motorcycle was a comforting weight at his back, making sure his knees wouldn’t buckle from the sheer intensity of the feelings Len poured into him.
“Ryder…” came Len’s voice in a whisper and he put a hand to Ryder’s cheek.
Ryder whimpered, swallowed, and licked his lips, sure the next move would be-
Barry sighed as he posted the new drawing he had just finished, including the beginning of his new one shot it was referring to.
It showed Captain Cold, clad in his signature parka, backing the Flash into a motorcycle. A motorcycle that looked exactly like Len’s. The parka was also open a bit to reveal the leg holster and Barry had spent ages to perfect the slight smirk that grazed Captain Cold’s lips. One of Captain Cold’s hands was tangled with the Flash’s, the other cupping his cheek. The Flash’s eyes were wide behind the mask and one hand was gripping the hood of the parka, as they stared into each other’s eyes, their lips only inches apart.
It was one of the more innocent thoughts Barry had about meeting Captain Cold - Len - again. He just really hoped the other recognized his motorcycle and finally got the damn hint.
withcoldontop
Wow, amazing artwork, as always, Nerd! Didn’t know you were interested in motorcycles, what reference did you use?
Barry thunked his head on the table and let out a sound close to a sob. “This idiot is unbelievable,” he whimpered as he realized yet another of his hints had gone totally ignored. This had to have been the 20th or something!
He didn’t know what else to do than to just… Tell Len when he saw him next. But that would involve a level of bravery he just couldn’t muster up yet.
Barry sighed and opened his Word document. Maybe if he put some more hints in the next one shot, Len would finally get it.
XXXXX
It was two days later and Len had still not realized anything. He’d loved Barry’s new one shot, sure, and had teased him about being “too romantic,” as usual, but no words about getting the hint.
No, instead Barry was once again engaged in a furious message war about Len trying to convince “Nerd” to draw something more explicit than usual.
withcoldontop
Seriously, Nerd, this one scene I have? Where Ryder is tied up and blindfolded, and can only moan around the dildo in his mouth while Cold is slowly dripping wax onto his ass while fucking him? That would be so hot to see in your style! Come on, you know you want it!
Barry was blushing like mad when he read that. He couldn’t admit to jerking off to that scene…more than once, too. Then again, he had already insinuated that he’d done so when he first commented on it. But that had been before he’d known that Top was Len!
nerdsdoitbetter
No! Also, why would Cold use wax? He is all about the cold puns, wax would more easily fit Heat Wave!
And shit, now Barry had an image in his head he’d never get rid of.
withcoldontop
Wow, Nerd, some secret fantasies you’ve been hiding? Thinking about drawing/writing a threesome there?
“Oh god, no, please no,” Barry whimpered and almost yelled in relief as his phone pinged with a text from Cisco. “Thank god!”
nerdsdoitbetter
No. Just no. Also, I think Heat Wave is more asexual than anything else. Gtg, ttyl.
Barry thought maybe that last hint, more of a thought, could be enough to finally convince Len. He shut down his laptop and raced to STAR labs.
XXXXX
"This can't be happening."
"Hm?" Cisco asked through the comms. "What was that, Barry?"
Barry sighed. "Nothing," he answered and frowned. Why did the Rogues have to attack today of all days. They hadn't appeared for weeks but of course that would change now that he’d found out about Len. Len being WithColdOnTop. Len writing ColdFlash fanfiction. Len wanting Barry…
Barry shook his head. Len’s stories were about sex and he always pointed out that “Nerd” was too romantic. So Len might be attracted to Barry physically, but he didn’t seem that interested in more than sex. And Barry didn’t do one night stands. No reason to get the wrong idea.
He arrived at the museum just as Captain Cold, Heat Wave, and Golden Glider came out the doors. Glider carried a satchel with the stolen art and kept back while Heat Wave and Cold immediately started to fire.
“Didn’t think you’d come,” Cold teased as Barry evaded their attacks. “You’re late, Scarlet. Having problem getting into the suit?”
“Are you calling me fat?” Barry called back, narrowly avoiding slipping on the patch of ice forming on the street. He heard Lisa laugh and rolled his eyes. Glad he could amuse her.
Len didn’t answer immediately and that alone was cause for celebration in Barry’s mind.
“Not exactly what I meant, but I didn’t know you had body issues, Flash,” Cold finally called and this time Heat Wave snorted.
“You two need to get a room,” he growled and something in Barry’s mind went blank.
That was a direct reference to Cold and the Flash flirting. Wasn’t it? Heat Wave thought they needed to be somewhere private. That they should maybe do something as soon as they were in private. Heat Wave wanted them to -
Barry was ripped out of his musing as heat exploded around him. The suit protected his skin, but his lower face, not protected by the mask, screamed in pain, as he was thrown back a few meters, landing on his side on the street.
Flames engulfed him for a few seconds longer, as his lower face blistered from the heat coming from his middle where Heat Wave had hit him.
Faintly, Barry heard Lisa scream and Mick letting out a loud, “What the fuck I thought he’d evade that!” as footsteps came running toward him.
Blackness pulled him under.
-----
@cliches-and-coffee
His eyes blinked open as he pushed out of the haze of unconsciousness, mind taking a moment to catch up, to register someone touching him. He jerked away, not quite at super speed but close.
Lisa raised her hands placatingly, as if trying to communicate that she didn't mean any harm. Barry took in the three people above him. They all looked... concerned? That was surprising (well, maybe not from Cold, but he was writing freaking fanfiction of them and—no, no, don't think about that, shit!). They had been the ones shooting at him, after all, didn't they want to hit him? He could feel his burnt skin already healing, though it still hurt like hell. He forced himself up anyway.
"Okay, let's just stop for a minute here," Lisa said, looking to Barry. "Are you drunk?"
"No!" Barry said indignantly. Where did that come from? "For the record, I can't get drunk."
Mick's eyes widened. "How do you even live?"
"...I got over it. I wasn’t much of a drinker anyway."
"Are you sick, then?" Lisa questioned.
"Ugh, no. I'm just not at the top of my game today, alright? I'm... under a lot of stress." Which was true, this situation was extremely stressful; he hoped they didn't ask why.
"See?! You can't even have stress relief because you can't get drunk!"
"Are you still on about that?" Cold asked Mick. Barry had almost forgotten he was there too and fuck, he was blushing again, not that anyone could tell with the half-healed burns.
"It's an important detail."
"Will you two save your arguing for later?" Lisa said with an eye roll.
Barry just wanted out of there, to go hide under a rock for a million years because this whole thing was awkward and he was tired and just didn’t know how to handle this any longer. "Are you guys going to finish this heist so I can stop you or what?"
The Rogues hesitated, still shaken from actually hurting Barry earlier. Surely they wouldn't drop the whole thing because of that? They'd done far worse before and gone right on stealing. They couldn’t care that much.
"No, I think we're done here."
The other two Rogues turned to give Cold confused (and maybe slightly relieved) looks and Barry sighed.
"You're obviously not in any shape for fighting tonight—whatever the reason is. Not nearly as fun," Cold said, and Barry resisted the urge to just announce right there that he was NerdsDoItBetter. But he couldn't.
Still, all that and they were just going to... leave? Not take anything? This night was so weird. Scratch that, his life was weird. He was drawing art and doing RPS of himself and Captain Cold... With the man himself. It didn’t get more ridiculous than that.
Barry didn't realize he'd lost himself in thought until he looked up and almost everyone was gone, Lisa just slipping out the door with a wink. He let them go, because what else was he supposed to do?
XXXXX
He wasn't surprised when he got a message from WithColdOnTop later that night. Barry tried to come up with a non-suspicious response, to sound calm and not as flustered as he was. He settled on something simple.
nerdsdoitbetter
Hey!
withcoldontop
And what have you been up to tonight?
Shit. Had he finally figured it out? No, that just seemed like a friendly question... If he had picked up on the hints he would have made some sort of allusion to it.
nerdsdoitbetter
Nothing much. Working on art, the usual, haha.
Aaand that sounded really awkward. Get a grip, Barry!
withcoldontop
Anything that would interest me?
nerdsdoitbetter
Maybe ;)
Thank god he was actually almost done with a picture, so it technically wasn't a lie…
withcoldontop
Can't wait. A pause, then another message. Any chance I could convince you to draw some more NSFW?
Barry laughed at that, forgetting the situation for a minute.
nerdsdoitbetter
There might be... Then he remembered what was happening and groaned. He really needed to figure out a solution for this situation. And now he was back to trying to word his messages carefully. I mean, probably not for a while.
withcoldontop
Hmm. A shame, really.
nerdsdoitbetter
I know, I know- sorry! I'm just not quite comfortable with it. So... Are you writing anything good?
He hoped the question was convincing.
withcoldontop
Everything I write is good. But seriously, i'm working on a few things... Something inspired me tonight so lots of new fics are probably on the way.
Something... Barry had a good idea of what that something was.
nerdsdoitbetter
THAT'S GREAT! Shit, too enthusiastic. Tone it down, you're being suspicious. Get out of this before you do something you'll regret. I mean, i'm excited, obviously.
Sorry, Top, i've gotta run.
He didn't realize the pun he'd accidentally made until after he sent it. He cursed, but there was nothing he could do. It didn't matter anyway—Cold hadn't gotten any of his hints before, why would he start now?
-----
@likes-to-icicle
Len sat transfixed, staring at his screen until it became blurry and indistinct. It wasn’t any one thing per se, but many little things. His epiphany could easily have been attributed to the fact that Nerd had somehow seemingly regressed to the awkward tentativeness that plagued their earliest conversations, and the fact that his regression reminded Len of The Flash’s off-balance distractedness just hours ago, but as Len sat there, with unseeing eyes and his panic rising he suddenly harbored no doubts.
There was a chance that Mick’s comment about the two of them needing a room, not to mention the way his heart nearly stopped at Barry’s pained cries, accompanied by his own not so recent obsession with Barry, and more so recent obsession with ColdFlash, with them being together, had caused him to jump to an extremely hasty conclusion. Still, regardless of how much time passed his convictions only became stronger.
Nerd’s ability to capture his likeness, not just physical features, but his quirks and nuances… it couldn’t be. It was impossible, yet Occam's razor; the simplest explanation is often the correct one, and while this was hardly a simple situation, it left him with only one explanation.
NerdsDoItBetter was The Flash, he was Barry Allen.
And once that thought fell into place, Len almost couldn’t believe it had taken him so long to figure it out. Nerd was The Flash. Was Barry. And Barry was… Barry was in the same situation as Len. Barry Allen was shipping ColdFlash. And suddenly, the rest of the dominoes began to fall into place from that realization. All of the pining Len had started to do, secretly wanting Barry, opening up to Nerd, confusing himself in the process--everything that had felt so unattainable, just daydreams that would never be realized, all of it was suddenly, alarmingly, possible.
And just like that, Len knew what he had to do. He had to write a scene, a fic, a magnum opus--a something. Something that would tell Barry that he knew the truth, that he wanted this, for real, if they could have it together. Something that couldn’t be mistaken, but wouldn’t be understood by anyone else but the two of them. The perfect ColdFlash fic.
If only he had some idea of what to write to accomplish that.
Len always planned for everything. His backups had backups; plans from A-Z, if just to spite Lewis. There was always a contingency in place. He counted the seconds, accounted for variables, outliers; everything.
Everything, until he’d come back to Central City.
First The Flash.
Len had been intrigued, impressed even. It had been a real game changer, a chance to really push the envelope. He had been thrilled. Going toe to toe with The Flash had been more exhilarating than any rush he’d ever felt in his life. The kid kept him on his toes, made him feel young again; alive. Mick had called it an obsession, maybe it was, but it hadn’t been the kid per se, it had been everything else.
Len readily accepted this new challenge: may the best man win.
Then Barry Allen.
Extraordinary didn’t even begin to cover it; even now there was no single word in any language worthy of the Scarlet Speedster, of Barry Allen. Gorgeous but innocent. Righteous but angry, fueled by passion. An impossible beacon of light who knew darkness. Foolish but smart. A contradiction in every sense of the word. All consuming; intoxicating.
No, Len wasn’t willing to leave, he loved this town, it was his home after all, besides it was just starting to get interesting.
Underestimating the kid was a mistake, one Len had made time and time again. The kid was an outlier, a variable Len could hardly understand; their deal was just the beginning.
It was a chess master playing against an amateur, yet a natural. You’re planning five moves in advance. Thinking you’ve won. Checkmate on the tip of your tongue. A single move. Then you’re back to square one; surprised, confused, wondering if your way, which has worked flawlessly for so long, is the right way; the only way.
Ferris Air had been a disaster. Barry coming to him for help was surprising in its own right, without the fear and panic that gripped him when it all went wrong. Len had just wanted to get him in check, not end the game, or so he told himself.
If that hadn’t been enough, along with the guilt he had to unexpectedly squash down more frequently than he cared to admit, Barry had surprised him again, and left him with a debt he could never repay. Saving Lisa from Lewis, something Len had failed at for longer than the kid had been alive, until he decided never again.
The surprises didn’t stop there. Barry had visited him in prison, after it was all over. Not to gloat, not to threaten him, not even to emphasize the fact that Len owed him now, but to tell him he believed in him.
“There’s good in you, Snart.”
Len had been prepared for their next encounter. It was his turn to visit Barry. He’d had it all planned out. Giving him enough info to survive the encounter, but not enough so as to convince Barry that the good he saw in him was a delusion. Encouraged him to ask for his help so he could deny him, but Barry Allen struck again.
“Well, you’re doing a pretty lousy job of being a villain this week.”
The Flash, Barry Allen, was full of surprises. There was no earthly reason Len should have been surprised by this new development, not in the least, but he was.
Of course, NerdsDoItBetter was The Flash, he was Barry Allen—the reason Len was sitting on his bed, with his laptop and more tabs than he thought possible open, notebooks and crumpled paper scattered everywhere; beyond frustrated.
Len had started what he was beginning to think of as more of his plea rather than any kind of offer. Mostly likely because he was beginning to feel a bit desperate.
Looking back, it was hard to believe he hadn’t seen it right from the beginning. Those gorgeous drawings that first caught his eye; so intimate, yet somehow still so innocent. That was the first time his chest ached with something he refused to give a name. He ignored it.
The drawings were bad enough, or amazing enough, that he decided right then and there to stay away from the romance side of things, at least in writing. He should have probably sworn the drawings off too, but he didn’t, he couldn’t. Then the kid sent a message asking for permission to tag him. Of course he said yes, and Len imagined Nerd blushing, just because, and actually smiled when he informed the kid his latest fic was in fact inspired by his work as well as he suggested tit for tat.
Len was nothing if not thorough and extremely unsurprised to find that the few fics the kid had written were also romance. He resisted the temptation to read them. If they stirred a fraction of what the drawings had… better he not.
There was the pun war, in which Nerd hadn’t done half bad, but Len was a pun master. The “there’s good in him” battle, which Len of course denied vehemently, yet who else would fight that with just as much conviction as Len rejected it aside from Barry Allen?
Now that he knew, it was all so obvious, though it still felt a bit surreal. Sure, Barry believed he was good somewhere deep down inside, but Nerd had actually liked him, which meant Barry actually like him.
That was not something he would have imagined in his dizziest daydreams. Well, maybe more so in his dirtiest, but it had never occurred to him it could actually become anything more than that, no matter how bad he wanted it.
Len was certain Barry knew it was him too, which somehow seemed to up the ante. Despite the other continuing their friendship, and seemingly making attempts to let Len know, dropping some pretty obvious hints, he was beyond nervous. Len was worried that what he was doing now, or trying to do, would mean losing all of them—Flash, Barry, Nerd—if it wasn’t done right.
The problem was he had no idea what was right.
Len had spent the last few hours clicking through artwork and fics hoping something, anything would call to his muses.
Most of his bookmarks were PWP, not that there was anything wrong with smut for smut’s sake, more than one of his own fics were nothing more than that, but right now, it made him cringe a little. Barry was the man responsible for the sickly sweet domestic headcanons that made Len want more, and crave things he’d long ago dismissed as a possibility for himself.
Len imagined Barry clicking through his bookmarks once he knew, along with all of Len’s actual work, and it caused a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. This compared to the artwork and the fics of Barry’s creation, made him feel as though the chances of his proposal being accepted were slim to none.
The idea of “letting off some steam” with his nemesis, or passionate anger fueled sex during or after a heist was hot. The kudos Barry left on his work told Len that Barry thought so too, but that’s not what he wanted to ask for. Truth be told he wasn’t exactly sure what he was asking for.
A chance, maybe, which was definitely more than he deserved, but something he would readily accept if Barry gave him the opportunity.
As many times as Len stopped and started anew, one would think he’d at least have an inkling as to what he planned to do, but he was just as lost as he’d ever been. Unlike with everything else in his life, writing was something that sort of just happened. It started with a concept or more often than not a fantasy, a wet dream, then it went from there.
Normally weaving words and ideas together was as natural as breathing. His muses danced, made demands, and Len obliged, but this time his muses were silent, just as nervous as he was. Telling him that wouldn’t do this time. This was too important.
With a drawn out sigh he closed the tab displaying his works and clicked on the one displaying Barry’s artwork. The ache in his chest was nearly unbearable.
The first drawing was sweet, yet somehow heated, causing fire to pool in his belly. It wasn’t explicit, not in the obvious sense, but there was something about it, probably the eyes, that spoke to him. Shouted at him really. Made him want more.
Now that he knew it was Barry’s it made a hell of a lot more sense.
The next was his favorite. He was—was being the operative word—sure that was a result of the details put into the bike. His bike. Another glaring hint he’d missed, too busy being wrapped up in the rest.
The gorgeous shy blush that graced Barry’s cheeks, who was pinned between him and his bike. The fire in his own eyes that mingled with a longing he knew all too well and a warmth he’d long thought himself incapable of. Soft, sweet, sexy, innocent, intimate, loving—it was all there.
That’s what Barry wanted.
Len found himself wanting it too against all odds. Yet, he still wasn’t wholly sure he could be what Barry wanted or deserved. As the villain, Captain Cold, that probably shouldn’t have been a concern, but as Len… well that was a different story.
The caption below the drawing caught his attention. It was nothing more than a “inspired by this” but Len found himself clicking on it regardless. If it had inspired Barry maybe it would inspire him too. A new page opened, and he almost laughed when the fic popped up. One he’d seen on every rec list, but never read.
“Don’t Think, Just Feel” by NerdsDoItBetter
Only Barry could make romance, love, and the potential for major heartache so sexy and appealing, even to him. Reading it wasn’t even an option at this point. The stakes already felt too high. The drawing had already been enough to cause the vice around his chest to tighten considerably… better he not.
Instead he found himself clicking on the kid’s bookmarks. He hadn’t looked at them since before he received his message. He was pleased beyond what he probably should have been at finding his own work. Almost everything he’d written had been marked and saved. It made his heart flutter. Not that it wasn’t always flattering when someone enjoyed his work enough to rec it, or save it to read again later, but the fact that Barry had done so meant more to him than he could put into words.
Len’s smile faded as he continued to scroll through the rest. It was no surprise to find romance or even smut, hurt/comfort, angst, friendship, but a lot of the smut he saw that wasn’t his own was tagged bottom!len. He’d seen a lot of the fics before, and even read some of them. Most had overtones of dominance with dubious consent, but some he remembered, concentrated more so on the equality of the action. The concept of partnership, mutual respect, if not love.
Just reading the summaries sent a shiver up his spine.
Len wasn’t exactly opposed to the idea. He’d fingered himself on more than one occasion, thinking of Barry no less, when the mood struck. It was more so the amount of trust required with something like that. For him anyway. The idea of sex had always been much more appealing to him than the actual act if he was being completely honest with himself, until now.
Sure, he’d had more than his fair share, and was quite the skilled lover, but the idea of giving over control, letting it all go, just feeling, wasn’t something he’d ever thought of doing, let alone put in practice.
Len trusted Barry though. He’d trusted him with his sister’s life, his own life. In comparison trusting him with his body wasn’t something that seemed so monumental, but to him it was. Suddenly it was something he wanted. Touches designed for pleasure instead of pain; Barry’s touches.
He just wasn’t sure if he could, or how to do it.
Barry wasn’t the problem here, Len was. He knew that, but it didn’t mean it wasn’t hard to push it away. He wanted more than anything to show Barry that he wanted more than just a quick fuck after a heist, or a no strings attached kind of thing. There were more strings attached already than he cared to count, but he saw no way of letting Barry know any of this, until now.
Bottom!Len
Clicking the back button, he wondered what exactly the right approach was. If there was a right approach for something like this. There had to be. Len needed there to be, but he was drawing a blank. Then the title of the fic that led to his newest revelation drew his eyes once again.
“Don’t Think, Just Feel”
Easier said than done for a man like himself, but this time as he gazed at the words, Barry’s words, it struck a whole new cord. Len remembered questioning himself for the first time in what felt like forever after meeting Barry. Questioning what he saw as the right way, the only way, as opposed to another way; Barry’s way.
Planning certainly hadn’t been working in his favor. He could hear a version of the written words in Barry’s voice as he closed his eyes trying to do just as they asked.
“You think too much, Len, let it go, just feel.”
They were whispered, spoken close enough that he could feel Barry’s hot breath ghosting across his flesh leaving goosebumps in their wake. Easing his tension, his frustrations, compelling him to comply, promising pleasures he could scarcely imagine. Barry’s fingertips tracing tattoos and scars in such a way he didn’t want to pull back, but never wanted it to end. Gentle, but insistent. Possessive in the best way imaginable.
Wet heat as Barry mouthed his way across Len’s jaw and down his neck, pausing only to nip and suckle at the sensitive flesh just above his collarbone before making his way back up to capture his lips in a searing kiss. That lithe gorgeous body pressed against his, hardness to match his own grinding into his thigh as he was guided onto his back. Not too forceful but adamant, lips never losing contact. Hands roaming, caressing, teasing.
Being pinned wasn’t something Len let happen, ever, but right now, if it were to happen like this, with Barry, he found he actually wanted it. Bodies aligned, hips grinding, delicious friction, hands caressing and kneading whatever was within his reach. Letting himself be encased, consumed by everything that is Barry Allen.
“Just feel,” Len repeated to himself already half hard feeling as though he’d made more progress in the last few minutes than he had in the last few hours. “Just feel.”
Len was struck by inspiration of sorts as he whispered Barry’s words to himself. His way certainly hadn’t been working, and it’s probably not what Barry meant, but it was working.
After a brief moment of hesitation Len made his decision. He needed to try another way, Barry’s way. Just feeling, a new sort of brainstorming.
Len put his laptop on the floor before quickly rolling on his side and reaching into his bedside table. His cheeks flushed as his hand closed around something he’d almost forgotten was in there. Sex toys weren’t something to be embarrassed about, but this wasn’t your average everyday run of the mill dildo.
This was a Captain Cold dildo; freezer safe and everything. At one point in time it might have surprised him, but after actually being part of the fandom, not so much. It wasn’t so much having a sex toy made in his likeness, if that’s what you would call something like this, that had his cheeks burning, but how he found out, and the thoughts that it conjured afterwards.
Mick thought it was hilarious. Len had wanted to simultaneously kill him and ask where he got it, wondering if there was some sort of Flash vibrator on the market. After Mick left chuckling and mumbling to himself about ColdFlash porn and vibrators, Len had looked.
Anyone else would have done the same in his position, so he didn’t feel too awkward about it. There was a Flash vibrator and awful ColdFlash porn along with fics and artwork. It was almost overwhelming and so unbelievably hot. Len had blushed as he stowed the dildo in his bedside table thinking he’d much rather have had the vibrator, but couldn’t find it in him to buy it for himself.
Keeping the dildo was one thing, but buying The Flash vibrator, that was whole other story.
Another split second decision made and Len was sliding the electric blue dildo under the mound of pillows, because Barry ran a bit on the warmer side. If you’re gonna do something might as well do it right.
A wave of nervous anticipation ran through him as he peeled off his shirt and tugged his sleep pants down his thighs causing his cock to twitch before he stepped out of them. This may not have been what Barry had in mind, but Len wanted to thank him regardless. Len wondered if the thought of him getting himself off while imagining Barry fucking him would make Barry as hard as it was making Len.
Len decided yes, absolutely yes as he climbed back on the bed, kneeling as he popped the cap on the lube.
Len fisted his cock giving it a few loose pulls before leaning forward onto his elbow as his other hand slid behind him. Between his cheeks a slick finger circled his tight hole. Closing his eyes, he pictured Barry, full body flushing, eyes darkened with desire, lips and tongue trailing down his back, murmuring praises. Teasing, tickling, circling with one hand as the other rolled his balls gently in the other. Not quite pushing in, just enough to make the ring of muscles quiver.
Balancing on his shoulder, his other hand trailed down his body to match the actions of fantasy Barry.
A grunt he couldn’t help escaped him when he cupped his balls and his slick digit pushed in to the second knuckle. He imagined Barry groaning at the feel of his tight heat, as he pulled out before pushing back in, a little deeper this time.
An honest to god gasp escaped him as he repeated the action. It was no longer his own finger, but Barry’s tongue fucking into him. His legs shifted farther apart of their own accord, his cheek and shoulder pushing into the mattress, hips tilting forward, exposing him in the most alluring way as Barry’s tongue breached his body, lightly grazing his prostate.
His breath hitched and he bit down on the comforter as he added a second digit. Barry’s tongue replaced with his long slender fingers. Thrusting in and out at a leisurely pace, deeper now, stretching him, scissoring, crooking to find his sweet spot.
Len’s cock was rock hard, aching already, the tip glistening with pre-cum. He resisted the urge to stroke his shaft, wanting this to last. Instead, he used his other hand to spread his cheeks, tilting his hips farther, opening himself up, adding a third finger. It burned, but in a good way. Biting into the comforter was no longer sufficient to muffle the sounds.
Barry’s voice, low and husky against his skin as he leaned over Len alternating between praising him, filthy promises, nips and kisses.
The question as to whether or not he could do this seemed a bit silly now, at least where Barry was concerned. With Barry he could, with Barry he ached for it.
Len’s breath was coming out in short gasps as fingers pumped in and out of him, stretching him, jabbing his prostate with every thrust. White hot heat coiled in his belly, even without touching his weeping cock, or the vibrating he was praying was a thing.
Still, it wasn’t enough. Len wanted more.
He pictured Barry pouting as he pushed back up onto his elbow, his fingers retreating, Len missing them as soon as they did. Smirking and kissing Barry as though it was a promise.
“I thought you wanted to fuck me, Scarlet?”
Barry’s eyes widening in surprise along with his already dilated pupils. His answer a shy but somehow enthusiastic nod. His blush deepening, a shade Len previously thought impossible.
“Good, I want you to fuck me too.”
Len rolled back onto his side slipping the electric blue dildo out from under the mound of pillows, his mind wandering, wondering what Barry tasted like. He imagined a heady scent and the slightly bitter taste of pre-cum on his tongue. Both somehow something so uniquely Barry.
Wrapping his lips around Scarlet’s cock. Forcefully sucking him all the way into his mouth until the tip hits the back of his throat.
The noises Barry would make. Blunt nails scraping over his scalp searching for purchase. Fucking into his mouth with minute thrusts, eager, but afraid of choking him. Digging his own fingers into Barry’s taught ass encouraging his thrusting, swallowing as much as he possibly could, tongue massaging the sensitive underside of his cock until he came undone in his mouth. Hot spurts of cum hitting the back of his throat. Swallowing every last drop.
God Len wanted that so bad. He hoped the no refractory period was a thing too.
Len scooted farther up the bed to rest his shoulders against the headboard. His knees bent, splayed wide, hips tilted, groaning as he ran the slick dildo down his shaft, across his balls, before pressing it against his stretched hole.
He imagined Barry would be warmer, hotter, even against his own now sweat slicked skin.
His eyes slid closed as he slid the dildo inside himself, imagining Barry’s gasps and moans mingling with his own. Len tried to force himself to relax, picturing Barry nibbling on his own lower lip while watching Len carefully, making sure he wasn’t hurting him, yet with a fire in his eyes reserved solely for him.
Scarlet leaning forward with gentle kisses; distractions. Intermittently muttering how good Len was doing, how good he felt wrapped around his cock until he was fully seated. Breathing just as hard as Len was, dying to move, forcing himself to remain still, giving Len time to adjust. Whimpering and biting into Len’s shoulder when he finally did.
Slow, smooth, deep strokes. Gentle, but precise. Sliding almost all the way out before pushing back in. Filling Len in a way he wasn’t sure he could get enough of. Building a rhythm, only speeding up when Len’s hips started bucking to meeting his thrusts.
Barry pushing up on his hands to hover over Len. His own cheeks flushing as he watched Barry watch himself fuck into Len with hooded eyes. Changing the angle of his hips so his cock brushed along the entire length of his prostate eliciting a broken moan.
Asking Len if he liked it. Smirking down at him when a drawn out moan and an enthusiastic nod was his answer.
The sounds of Len’s own husky breathless voice begging for more amongst a litany of ‘fucks’ and ‘harder’. Barry’s entire body flushed and glistening with sweat, but eager to give him what he was asking for. Propping himself on his elbows, leaning in for a sloppy kiss, before pulling back again when he felt Len’s ass clench around his cock drawing the sexiest noise yet; a mixture of a whimper and a moan.
Lithe fingers wrapping around his leaking, aching cock as Barry picked up the pace, pounding into him. Holding his eyes, knowing they were both right there without words. Firm long strokes in time with Barry’s thrust. Len unable to help bucking his hips to meet them. Grateful when the muscles in Barry’s neck and chest tensed, unable to hold off his own release much longer.
Cumming with Barry’s name tumbling from his lips, coating both their abdomens with his hot release. Feeling Barry do the same seconds later; after one final deep thrust, a garbled version of his own name tumbling from the Speedster’s lips.
Len let out a tired groan as he slid the dildo from his body once he regained his breath. That was hotter than any actual sexual encounter he’d ever experienced, and his softening cock actually twitched at the thought of making it a reality. It was nerve wracking, but exciting at the same time.
Barry Allen by far would be the most thrilling thing in all his 43 years if he didn’t fuck it up.
If he was a master thief, he was the king of fucking up anything good in his life, which was probably why he fought this for so long. He couldn’t let that happen though, not this time. He was determined not to. Len would be and offer everything Barry wanted or needed, and thanks to Barry, he knew exactly how he was going to do that.
Len’s muses danced, made their demands, and he obliged. After having no direction or plan as to what exactly he was going to do, it was almost dizzying as to how fast it all came together. His fingers flew across the keyboard, a small smile gracing his lips as the butterflies in his belly danced faster than his muses.
There was no doubt in his mind that this was the most important thing he would do in his life, and while it was terrifying, he now held hope that there was another way, even for someone like him; a better way.
With that final thought helping quell his nerves and butterflies, though less so, he tagged NerdsDoItBetter and hit post.
XXXXX
Len didn't think too much on it, or maybe he'd already thought on it enough, either way it didn't feel like a completely conscious decision as he gently cupped Ryder's face, which was a gorgeous shade of satisfied and slightly embarrassed. He knew there was a small smile on his own lips, and for once he didn't try to hide it, though he wasn't wholly sure he could have if he wanted to.
It had been everything he thought it would be and so much more. Maybe more than he bargained for, because his chest ached at the sudden uncertainty in Ryder's eyes.
Slowly, so as to give the other man a chance to say no, to pull away, to freak out, or maybe decide this was a huge mistake, though no matter what happened now this would be one of the few things in Len's life he would never regret, he leaned in to press their lips together. There was so much Len left unspoken, unsure of how to say it, but he wanted to show Ryder what he and this meant to him. No one, including himself, thought the thick layer of ice that encased Captain Cold's heart could be melted. Not until that moment, not until it did.
Len didn't normally do gentle, but for Ryder, he was suddenly aware he would do just about anything, or at least he would try.
It felt like a new plain of existence, so surreal, but like all the missing pieces of the puzzle had fallen into place. Len put everything he couldn't put into words into the kiss. It was deep in a way Len had never experienced. Gentle, but not careful. Sweet, but powerful. Passionate, but unhurried. It was everything.
A contented sigh escaped him as Ryder finally gently ended the kiss, if that was even the right word for it; it felt like so much more somehow, looking a bit sheepish, though smiling in such a way that Len's heart fluttered. For a long moment hazel held icy blue, each unable or unwilling to look away. Len tried to memorize every detail of Ryder’s face submitting it to memory, never wanting to forget a single freckle.
"Len I..." Ryder broke the silence first, but trailed off as if his own voice surprised him.
The kid’s nerves were back now that the post orgasmic bliss had receded.
"I know," Len replied quietly, because he did.
Ryder wore his heart on his sleeve. "But I..."
"I know."
"You know?"
"I know."
Len caressed the side of Ryder's face, gently pressing their lips together once more before meeting his eyes, holding his gaze leaving everything unveiled. Letting him see what he'd kept to himself from the moment they met. Len knew Ryder saw it when his thousand-watt grin returned and his eyes sparkled in a way that took Len's breath away.
"I think it's time we make a new deal, Scarlet."
-----
@lisellevelvet
Barry had no idea what to do. He was just going through the motions at work, dodging Joe, Iris, and Patty when they tried to ask him what was up. These past few months he’d usually work through things like this by messaging Top, but now…
Top...Captain Cold...Len. Len was the reason he was so distracted in the first place. For real, though. He had no idea what to do. Len had to have figured Barry out before that horrible mess of a fight. Right?
There wasn’t any other reason for the Rogues to be weirdly concerned for him when Heat Wave managed to catch him off guard. Damn, but that stupid flamethrower hurt. And if it hadn’t been for Lisa’s quick reflexes, his entire left side would be a shiny golden statue.
Barry rubbed both hands through his hair, lacing his fingers behind his neck. Crap. He really needed to pull himself together.
Len had to know that Barry was NerdsDoItBetter. Hell, Len probably figured it out ages before Barry did and was just playing it cool. And even if he hadn’t, after their fight he’d continued to talk to Nerd as if nothing had changed. Which meant...what?
That he enjoyed talking to Barry? It seemed like the most logical conclusion, but Len tended to operate on a logic all his own. That he kept the ruse going in the hope that Barry would provide Len with even more to use against him? Way more plausible. Definitely would’ve been the case early on, but it didn’t really fit with Len’s actions at the last fight... he still couldn’t believe the Rogues just walked away empty handed because Len...what? Thought he was too distracted?
Of course, there was a third option. One that Barry was trying not to think about, because the last thing he needed was false hope. And besides...someone like Len could get whoever he wanted. The man was gorgeous, confident, intelligent, not to mention very protective and loyal when he cared. Pretty much everything Barry could ever want in a partner. But really, what would Len want with a nerd like him?
And while most of his published fics were (seriously hot) pwps about them blowing off steam after a heist or randomly hooking up at a bar, he knew that wasn’t all Len was interested in. Between the headcanons and RPing they did he knew Len would be open to an actual relationship. He just didn’t think he deserved it. Which hurt Barry a hell of a lot more now that he knew those sentiments came from Len himself.
Barry sighed, flopping onto his couch and covering his face with his favorite throw pillow. Thank god it was Friday. He had an actual weekend, for once. Singh even took him off call, so as long as things didn’t go nuts, he had seventy-two hours to get his head out of his ass.
He groaned, wondering for probably the millionth time how this was his life. Because...seriously. Somehow he always seemed to find himself in the craziest situations. Everything with his Mom and Dad, becoming the Flash. Iris. Finding one of his nemeses not repulsive--ok, hot. Len was hot.
And ok, finding him attractive wasn’t the end of the world...kinda like admiring a celebrity. Or Oliver. Harmless because it’d never, ever be something that developed beyond wishful thinking. Yeah. Captain Cold was hot. And fun to go up against...especially after their deal. The villain had style and really enjoyed himself, playing Captain Cold, outwitting and outpunning his opponents.
It was part of the reason why Barry created the stupid tumblr account in the first place. After Iris somehow randomly stumbled into the fandom--that’s what he was telling himself, anyway, because the thought of Iris actively searching for things like his fictional sex life was NOT something he was prepared to consider--and forced Barry to take a look. What started as morbid curiosity soon became an outlet.
A way for him to escape onto the internet. Forget that he was The Flash, if only for a little while. He hadn’t really gotten too invested until he started following WithColdOnTop. Len. Or, more accurately, when Len found his comic and started offering up suggestions, discussing headcanons for potential scenarios. Things grew from there. The way they can be online, where he can be completely anonymous and surprisingly open at the same time. Something he craved since becoming The Flash.
He had opened up to Top. A lot. Barry shifted the pillow to cushion the arm of the couch, scrubbing a hand through his hair.
A lot a lot--about Iris, his dad, the mess with Patty...even some of the crap with Zoom. Not in those terms, of course, or with enough detail to give things away. But just enough to work through some things. Top had amazing insights. He was a strategic thinker, and it was so easy for him to detach his emotions to examine a situation--something Barry readily agreed that he sucked at. Maybe that should’ve been his first clue.
Barry got up, throwing together a few sandwiches for something to do. His phone buzzed.
He really, really shouldn’t check. If there was a problem Cisco would call. But by now he was conditioned to jump on the (very likely) chance that the notification indicated a message or post from Top. He was so very, very screwed. Might as well take a look.
It was a post this time, not a message. An AO3 link to a new fic that Top--Len--just posted. Shit. He’d been tagged in the post, hence the notification.
“Key to the City”
Summary: The Lightning Dome presents a new challenge for Cold, but not all targets are silver and gold.
@nerdsdoitbetter maybe you’re right and it’s time for a change.
Well...that was even more vague than usual. Barry bit his bottom lip, following the link.
Note: For NerdsDoItBetter; thought I’d try things your way--novel approach, I know.
Ok, that was different. Top--Len--didn’t usually bother with notes. At least not beyond the typical request for feedback and proofreading.
Barry’s stomach was busy tying itself up in knots, but he took a deep breath and kept going. As though he really had the self-control to stop now. Oh, who was he kidding? Hopefully...he had no idea what to hope for, mostly because he was trying really hard not to get too far ahead of himself. Because he had a feeling that he’d only end up disappointed.
Except...wow. Only a few lines in and the entire tone was different from everything else he’d read. It felt more like one of their headcanon brainstorming sessions than any of Len’s other fics.
For one thing, there was more of a setup instead of beginning mid-fight. But an even bigger change was the amount of attention Len spent building and expressing the emotions involved. This wasn’t blowing off steam or a one-night-stand. This was...almost too good to be true.
Barry put his phone down on his chest, trying to suppress a huge, goofy smile; tamp down the warmth spreading through him. Savoring the feeling while he replayed the last few paragraphs:
“You think too much, Len, let it go, just feel.”
They were whispered, spoken close enough that he could feel Ryder’s hot breath ghosting across his flesh leaving goosebumps in their wake. Easing his tension, his frustrations, compelling him to comply, promising pleasures he could scarcely imagine. Ryder’s fingertips tracing tattoos and scars in such a way he didn’t want to pull back, never wanted it to end. Gentle but insistent. Possessive in the best way imaginable.
It just got better as he read, Len allowing himself to be pinned down, however gently, letting Barry (well, Ryder) take the lead. Welcoming his touch, encouraging it instead of shying away to limit the contact between them.
He kept going, each new sentence, new paragraph just made him want Len more. It made him hope--hope that there were feelings involved, hope that their friendship would survive, hope that it could become so much more. Because—
His phone rang. Cisco had the worst timing ever.
Barry sighed and answered. Hopefully it wasn’t a huge disaster.
“What’s up, Cisco?”
“Hey man, sorry to interrupt your night in. The security at STAR Labs just flickered. D’you mind checking it out?”
“Um, sure. But aren’t you still there?” he asked, checking the time.
“No...not exactly? I mean, something awesome came up so I left early. “ Barry could hear Cisco’s wide grin.
The speedster shook his head with a short laugh, “Really now? Anything I should know about?”
“No. Well...I prolly won’t be around much tomorrow, either. Hopefully.”
“Good for you. Have fun on your--” he almost choked at the voice he heard next.
“C’mon, Cisco. Our table’s ready.”
Barry knew that voice. Cisco spent the last five days practically living at the Lab, when had he run into her long enough for them to make plans? And why did this whole thing feel familiar?
“Lisa Snart? Your date is Lisa Snart?” He had to ask.
“Um...yes?”
Well, he probably should’ve seen that coming. Lisa had been spending more time around their regular haunts in Central ever since they helped with her horrible excuse for a father. “Use protection. And if I don’t hear from you by noon, I’ll send out a search party.”
Cisco sputtered indignantly, but he wasn’t the one to reply. “Don’t worry your leather-clad ass, Flash. I promise to return him in one piece. Go have fun,” Lisa hung up on him.
He stared at his phone in disbelief, shaking his head. He probably wouldn’t need to rescue Cisco from Lisa a second time, especially since it sounded like his friend walked into the situation willingly.
It felt familiar, though...oddly similar to--oh. For real?
Barry opened the browser again, scrolling back to the beginning where, sure enough. There was the date.
Elsa (Barry could not stop snickering at the obvious Frozen reference Len chose for the fic version of Lisa) was involved in the plan, too. Len had her bumping into ‘Crusher’ (real name Wesley, aka Cisco, god, Len was such a dork--if Cisco ever found out about his alter ego Barry thought he’d be simultaneously pleased and annoyed at the choice) and wheedling a dinner-date out of him to make sure that the Lightning Dome was empty.
Was that...was Len really setting up a meeting like the one in the fic? That was all sorts of exciting. Unless...but no. Barry read through the fic once more, slowly. Trying to come up with any other explanation without success.
Len called him Scarlet. He knew. He had to know. Especially since he went out of his way to avoid color-based nicknames in fandom. It was their thing and Barry liked to think Len avoided it to keep it special.
So...was this special? He really, really hoped so.
Barry took a deep breath, steeling himself, before zipping off to STAR Labs.
XXXXX
Len’s phone beeped--Lisa texting him to let him know that Cisco made the call. That Barry was on his way.
He wasn’t ready. Probably never would be. Len shrugged out of his parka, folding it neatly and placing the cold gun on top. This wasn’t just another dance; another showdown between The Flash and Captain Cold. It was a beginning. A chance that Len knew he didn’t deserve.
But that was nothing new. Over the years he got comfortable--familiar--with the idea of taking what he wanted, earned or otherwise. This was different.
He opened up, made himself vulnerable in more ways than one. Barry should pick up on that. He was much...better when it came to emotions.
It was a quality of the Scarlet Speedster that Len initially derided, a weakness he exploited. Now, though...now he relied on that empathy. Needed it more than anything.
Except he was still alone. Five minutes--three hundred seconds--elapsed since Lisa’s text. Len knew it only took Barry a maximum of two minutes to reach S.T.A.R. Labs from anywhere in Central.
Len tightened his hand around the key to Central City. Not fidgeting. Staring at the trinket with unseeing eyes, trying to quiet his racing mind.
Seven minutes. He did not pace a circuit around the cortex. No matter how much he wanted to. Feeling restless and impatient like never before.
The cortex was quiet, dark. Dimly illuminated by the emergency exit sign and flickering lights on the computer terminals. And the spotlight on the Flash suit. Made the costume look dignified, imposing. Static. Wrong.
With Barry in it, the suit, The Flash was always moving. Forever changing. Too quick to follow. Never that still.
Stillness, calm, patience--those were qualities Len cultivated. Relied on. But here, now, he was restless. Full of uncontained energy.
He continued pacing.
Ten. Ten minutes. Six hundred seconds. Len walked back to his parka and gun. Barry must not be coming. Len tried not to be disappointed, but failed.
Knew that this whole thing was a longshot. A risk. Making himself...open up was a calculated move. It obviously hadn’t paid off. Unsurprising, really. Barry could -- and should -- have so much more, do so much better. Better than him, with his broken pieces and stunted emotions.
Len sighed heavily. He was already there, might as well wait a bit longer. Had nowhere else to be. He perched on the edge of the table, facing the Flash suit in its niche. Toying with the key. Twirling it between his fingers as he contemplated… all of it.
The challenge presented by The Flash, his gun, their uneasy truce. The way Barry always saw something else, something more to Len. Something he could not, would not, see within himself.
He thought… had hoped that this would be another example of that. Of Barry seeing more to Len, trusting him again. Even though Len didn’t deserve, would never ask, for that kind of faith.
Twelve minutes since the text. Seven hundred and thirty seconds. This was a mistake.
Len would allow himself to stay for another three minutes. Three minutes, and then force himself to leave. To move on and give up—
Soft footsteps sounded in the hallway, getting louder before Len could convince himself that he was imagining things.
Barry. Looking hesitant and confused… and hopeful. There was so much cautious hope in his hazel eyes that Len couldn’t breathe. Just for a moment, when their eyes met. No costumes or personas between them. Just space. And a key.
“Why?”
-----
@coldtomyflash
Barry spent a full thirty seconds just staring at the main door of STAR Labs before he worked up the nerve to speed inside. He wasn’t sure the last time his heart had beat quite so fast, quite so heavy in his chest. This could go wrong in so many ways, and he was probably crazy to be here, to hope…
But he had to try. So he sped into the hall then stopped, and forced himself to walk slowly into the cortex so he wouldn’t trip over his heart in his throat, in his feet, in each fiber. Snart—Leonard, Len—was there, holding the key to the city, just as promised, just as he had been in the fic from Top, but then, that meant... This fic that was real, because Len had set it up to be real. But just… how real?
Barry didn’t know what to expect. Len wasn’t wearing the parka, and the cold gun was laid down too, the hip holster off, and he wasn’t looking up yet, eyes focused on the key in his fingers, eyebrows drawn together just a bit. He glanced up when he heard Barry enter.
Barry’s heart thumped in his chest. “Why?”
Snart—Len—looked surprised for all of a second before the mask fell back into place, the smirk.
“You’re right on time as always, Flash, but I’m afraid that means you’re too late to stop me.”
Barry sucked in a breath, eyes wide. He wasn’t on time. He was late. He’d taken way too long to decide if he should even show up. But that line. That’s what Len said in the story, the fic that he wrote. That’s what—were they playing it out? In detail? Len wasn’t in the Cold outfit, not really with the key pieces set aside, and Barry wasn’t in his suit, it was immobile and on display, but…
Len had leaned forward on one foot as he said it, and it might look like he was being smug or challenging but it reminded Barry of what he looked like months ago when Barry had showed up to act as ‘Sam’ and Len had been on his guard, tense and nervous. Maybe just as nervous as Barry felt. And maybe he needed to play things out, to follow the script Len had set. Some measure of control, considering just how much of that control he was about to give away, if they followed through with the words he’d written.
So Barry stumbled through his reply, “Wh—you really think I’ll let you escape with that key, L—Captain Cold?” It wasn’t exactly what was in the fic, but close enough, and it’s not like he’d memorized it or anything. But Len seemed to take it as a cue, nodding slightly, looking a little more confident.
“With my cold gun, I’ll freeze your feet in place and the exit’s behind me. There’s not much you can do to stop me, Flash.” He said it with a tilt to his head, and Barry remembered this part of the story. In it, Captain Cold had definitely had the cold gun out and ready, not out of reach and powered down. All he had in his hand was the key, which he was twirling between his fingers. The exit was definitely not behind him, quite the opposite in fact. But Barry was getting where this was going, so with a tentative step forward, he splayed his hands out a bit.
“That’s if you can catch me, Cold,” that was his line, but Barry had to add, a little smirk of his own, “and I'm pretty fast, in case you hadn’t heard.”
He caught Len’s sharp look, then his almost-laugh at Barry’s addition. “Why don’t we put it to the test?”
Barry took another step forward, Len’s arms were down, open in a way that Barry understood as an invitation. He wondered how long they would— could — follow the script. How far Len was taking this and if… if…
“Looks like…” he tried to remember the details, gently taking the key from Len’s hand, “you’re a little too slow, Cold.”
“That’s what you think.” Len’s voice was surer than Barry’s, and he remembered this part of the fic. At this point, The Flash and Cold had been fighting, freezing up the Flash’s ‘Lightning Dome’ and The Flash had got close, only to get his feet trapped by Captain Cold in an ice bomb. And after that…
“You really think this’ll stop me, Len?” Barry tripped up and said his name, but Len didn't seem to mind. They both stepped forward, and Barry breathed in sharp, suddenly so close. Were they doing this? It was insane. He didn’t know what else to say though, what else to do.
“You always manage to surprise me, Flash.” Len’s breathing was tight too.
Barry’s brain was reeling. He’d skipped a few lines. Now, in the fic… now was when the Flash had Cold on the ground, gun flung across the room.
“But that’s what makes it fun… We could make it more fun though, Flash—more fun than just taking me into the CCPD. Could make it really interesting.”
Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god—they were doing this. “What did you have in mind, Captain Cold?” He tried to inject some je-ne-sais-quoi to his voice, something appropriately mysterious and flirtatious to fit the line, and wondered for a second how actors did this, ready to laugh at himself for all his nerves.
Len reached out first, like in the fic, hand tentative between them for a second before Barry swallowed, nodded just a bit, and with a little slump of the tension in his shoulders, Len’s hand reached where there would’ve been the Flash emblem on his chest, had he been wearing the suit, then trailed down. Barry’s breath hitched.
“I think you know what I’m talking about, Flash.”
Part of him wondered if they should stop, should talk, should acknowledge the craziness of this situation. The rest of him stuffed that part of him into a bag and shoved it into a corner of his mind where it couldn’t make any more noise, because this was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. A step in either direction off the path might ruin the tension building, the trust building, the script they were following and where it led. And he wanted to trust Len, wanted to believe, wanted this.
Len’s hand stopped at his navel and Barry remembered his line. “If you expect to buy your way out of this, Cold—“ Barry’s breath hitched—could he really say it?
He leaned in close to Len’s ear, trying to smother his nerves, free hand coming to rest on Len’s waist, feeling the other start under his fingers. With the hand holding the key, he reached forward to intertwine his fingers with Len’s, then swallowed and kept talking.
“If you expect to buy your way out of this, Len, then you’d better be convincing.”
He heard Len exhale near his ear, level height, and the hand on his shirt slipped a few inches lower. “Tell me, Flash, what would it take to convince you?”
Barry shivered. He knew the double meaning of the lines, of the tightrope they were walking. But his next line in the fic felt too abrupt, too vulgar, even if it was easy to remember from Top’s smut, one of those lines that made your stomach tighten and your blood flow south.
I’ve seen how you look at me, Cold, this dance we do. You’re already hard, don’t try to hide it. You think if you let me fuck you, I’ll let you off easy?
It didn’t matter that Len’s line after that was asking for more, that the character in the fic—that Len—had whispered that what if it wasn’t just sex? Barry wasn’t sure if he could say that line, not with a straight face, not without ruining the moment. But what he could say…
“We both know we’ve been dancing around this, Len.” Barry moved his hand up from Len’s waist to trail it over his cheek, his jaw, feeling the sharp inhale, pulling back to look in Len’s eyes. “We both want this, I think we’re past hiding it.” He moved in, heart hammering hard, suppressing a tremor, voice dropping to a whisper, lips millimeters from Len’s. “Would you let me, if I wanted to?”
“And if I would?” Their eyes met, briefly, too close, Len’s voice quiet with a gentle rasp. “And if I wanted more than just this?”
Barry squeezed his hand around the key, reassuring. “I’d give it to you, because I want it too.” It was off script but Barry didn’t care, leaning forward.
He didn’t know who closed the distance between them, a second of hesitation from each of them first—it felt like an eternity—but when their lips finally met it felt… perfect.
Len’s lips were soft under Barry’s, chapped and relenting, letting Barry pull him closer, make it deeper, make it everything he’d wanted for it to be for so long. A whine threatened to escape his throat, the intensity of this feeling surprising him, pressing closer to Len who pressed back, until they were chest to chest, Len’s hand around his waist now. It was everything he’d been secretly aching for these past so-many weeks, and maybe everything that Len had been wanting just as bad.
Barry dropped Len’s hand, the key falling unchecked to the ground, because he needed to touch. And just like that, his hands couldn’t still, restless excitement and nervous energy rising up, hands on Len’s jaw, the back of his neck, trailing down his back, wrapping around him, wanting the feel of skin on skin, craving more than this. He sucked Len’s lower lip and took full advantage when his mouth dropped open, sliding his tongue inside, hearing the soft, almost inaudible groan from the other man.
It didn’t take long for things to become hot, hotter than they already were, with hands everywhere and bodies aligned and started to writhe, kissing like neither of them needed oxygen. Barry was becoming too turned on to function right, brain slipping away, instincts taking over, wanting nothing more than to make Len feel good, to take him apart and put him back together with care.
He walked them over—sped, really, but not too fast—to the nearest wall, pressing Len up against it, gentle but insistent, hands everywhere for a moment, under Len’s shirts, getting harder by the second as Len gasped and started to press up, to respond under his hands.
Barry moved to pull and push Len’s shirts—sweater and undershirt—up until both men had to break apart for him to pull them over Len’s shoulders. Barry wanted to take a moment to admire, to bask in the skin, but he kissed Len again first, let his hands explore before his eyes could, fingers catching on ridges and scars, smooth and rough skin, warm and tantalizing. Then, with another nip at Len’s lips—they were sinful and Barry would kiss him for days, forever—he pulled away to let himself look, to admire.
“You’re gorgeous,” he breathed, eyes raking in tattoos and scars. Scars that he knew Len was self-conscious of, by his fiction, that Barry knew he was allowed to touch, by the actions of ‘Ryder’ in the fic.
He slowly brushed his fingers over them, and leaned forward to kiss, not missing Len’s hesitation, the set to his jaw.
“You think too much, Len,” Barry whispered, remembering. He trailed his fingers over the scars, kissed Len’s neck gently, ghosting his breath over it, sucking gently—not enough to leave a mark, just enough to make Len gasp. “Let go, just let yourself feel. I promise I’ll take care of you.”
Len nodded, a little shakily, letting out a breath and Barry relaxed too, fingers slightly more daring, dipping lower, sliding over Len’s stomach to the trail of hair below his navel that led down.
Len’s hands were on Barry’s sides, gently clutching his shirts and he started to tug. Barry wasn’t about to deny the request, no matter how skinny he knew he looked, how he was sure not to live up to Top’s fantasies, his fic, Barry could at least put the same trust in Len as he was receiving in return. He pulled out of his shirts and delighted in the way that Len’s eyes roamed him.
“Barry…” his voice was quiet, and Barry felt his chest, his heart clench. It was the first time since being here that Len had actually said his name. “I want you.”
Oh. Barry let out a breath, surprised, turned on, and couldn't help but kiss Len, but lean forward and capture his mouth, hand at the back of his head, other around him, all skin on skin, all heady possession and temptation.
He wanted Len, he wanted Len to be his, and he wanted this.
Len rolled his hips forward, into Barry’s, and they both gasped—Barry groaned more earnestly then, hands dropping to Len’s hips, cupping his ass, pulling his hips forward and flush against Barry with just a hint of speed, feeling their erections press together, caged by their pants. He let go of Len’s mouth and sucked his neck, kissed, nipped, and they rocked their hips together until Barry thought he might go mad, Len’s hands digging into his back.
“I want to fuck you, Len,” he scraped his teeth along the lobe of Len’s ear, voice raw, “I want this, you, everything.”
“God, I—me too, Barry.”
Barry licked at some of the sweat starting to coalesce in the hollow of Len’s throat, trying to remember reality and not lose himself entirely. “Not against a wall.” As hot as it would be, had been in the fic, Ryder pressing into Cold while Cold faced the wall, legs spread, taking him right there—as much as the thought turned Barry on, he wanted Len to be comfortable, wanted to make this about more than base instincts. “There’s a couch a few rooms down we can—”
“Take me there—”
Barry didn’t hesitate, speeding them down to one of the STAR Labs lounges, seldom used now that the building had only three occupants most days. He laid Len out on the couch below him, grinning down at his slightly flushed face, his blown pupils, his bitten-red lips.
“Len,” he didn’t quite whisper but his voice was soft anyway, hand on the button of Len’s pants, leaning back to look down at the other man. “May I?”
XXXXX
Len swallowed hard and nodded, trying to smirk but he was sure it came out a little too nervous. He wanted this, wanted Barry—had been lost in the feel of him until they’d sped here to this couch, until Barry had gone off script. Len knew he would feel vulnerable doing this, in giving charge over to Barry, but that was how he wanted it, how they both needed it. He needed to prove it wasn’t just about Barry’s (admittedly amazing) body, that he trusted him with more.
Len lifted his hips and let Barry slide him out of his pants, kicking out of his shoes and socks, then had a thought. “The supplies are in my jacket—”
Barry blinked and disappeared. Len bit his lip. Barry was back, between his legs, a nervous smile of his own in Len’s direction.
“You have no idea how hot you look like this,” Barry said quietly, and Len felt something warm tug inside of him, felt a little more heated himself under Barry’s appraisal, under his hands now sliding down Len’s body.
He leaned up on his elbows, watching Barry, and Barry leaned forward to capture his lips again, even while his hands moved and—ah, cupped him on the outside of his dark boxer briefs, gently gripping the outline of his cock.
“I want to take you apart,” Barry moved to whisper in his ear, “I want to make you moan my name.”
Len shuddered out his next exhale, tilting his head back. “Whatever you want, Barry.”
The other was mouthing at his neck, and there was a frission of electricity before Len glanced down and Barry’s jeans were off, and Len’s underwear disappeared a second later. He groaned when Barry’s lips were back on his neck, hands on his hips, thighs, finding sensitive spots to tease before one hand gripped his cock and Len’s breath stuttered.
He spread his legs wider on the narrow couch, trying to check any noises that were too needy as Barry’s pace was lazy but practiced on his cock, thumb circling over his slit and making him gasp.
Barry kissed him again, altogether too gentle, and Len realized his eyes had fallen closed of their own accord, wrapped up in the sensations. He breathed into it, dragged his hands off the back of the couch and the cushion to run them over Barry’s body, over his back and his arms, his front, the ‘v’ of his hips. He felt a hand run down the inside of his thigh, retreat for all of a second, and then Barry pulled back.
“Lean back for me.”
Len fought the urge to flush and tilted his hips, his body, to give Barry better access. He felt slick fingers slip behind his balls, teasing his entrance in slow circles. He felt his body flutter, eager, pressing himself down onto the fingers teasing him.
“Thought you liked to go fast, Barry?” he smirked, couldn’t help himself.
Barry just laughed, “Thought you enjoyed slow, Len? Isn’t that what cold is?”
“Mmm, wouldn't mind you picking up the pace.”
Barry pressed one finger inside and Len gasped. “Better?”
“Mmm.”
His eyes slipped closed again and he let himself feel it, Barry opening him up. The hand on his cock slid away to hold his hamstring and press his leg back, out of the way, giving Barry better access and no-doubt quite the view, and then a second finger pressed inside, stretching him along with the first.
Len groaned and Barry was pumping those fingers in, other hand hot on Len’s thigh but then he felt—eyes opening in shock because—Barry’s tongue was hot on the underside of his cock and Len choked out a stuttered curse, spreading himself wider. A hand flew to Barry’s hair, the other clutching the back of the couch, stretching himself out and whining when Barry’s mouth enveloped his cock.
“I swear to god you’d better hurry up with the prep or I’ll—fuck!!” Barry’s fingers had started to—oh god they were—Len groaned at the vibration inside of him, the feeling shooting up his prostate, cock straining and leaking precum, Barry licking the tip, all of it—
“You can actua—lly—ah—”
Barry’s lips sucked on the tip of his cock then came off with an obscene ‘pop’ sound.
“That uh, that’s canon yeah.”
Len let out a strangled, low laugh, pressing his hips further onto the vibrating fingers, feeling a third pressed tight into him as he willed himself to relax. “God, Barry.”
“You like?”
“Don’t ever stop.”
They’d tossed out the script of his fic a while ago and Len couldn't find it in him to be sorry. The fic didn’t have him receiving a blowjob, didn’t have vibration, didn’t have anything that was an unknown element to Len, but this—this was something else. But Barry pulled his fingers out too soon, gave a last lick to his cock and Len sighed at the loss of sensation, even though he knew he was going to enjoy what was coming next.
Barry rolled on the condom, wiped his hands on a scrap of fabric—was that his shirt?—so they weren’t slick with lube when he held Len’s hips and leaned forward.
“You ready?”
God he was asking? This was why Len had written the damn fic with himself pressed against a wall, facing away, all passion. Right now his brain wouldn’t work, too high on the remembered sensation of vibration inside of him, more than ready but Barry was asking and waiting for a goddamn answer and looking him in the eye and Len couldn’t look away, even as he was starting to blush, feeling vulnerable and open and turned on and cared for by Barry’s slow pace, his massaging fingers against Len’s hips.
“Ready,” he managed to croak, just barely resisting the urge to throw an arm over his own eyes and cover his face against reality, against the blinding light of Barry’s smile. Barry who cock’s was pressed against his entrance, nudging, just—ah—pressing against the tight ring and stretching it. They both groaned at the first inch, Len starting to pant quietly, unable to resist, finally throwing an arm over his eyes after all because damn—this? This was—this was much better than he’d—
“Fuck,” he moaned as Barry pushed in deeper. It had been long, so long, since someone had done this for Len, to Len, someone other than himself with hands and toys. Barry groaned too, cock pressing into Len, cleaving into him until he was seated fully inside, up to the base.
“You feel…so good,” Barry sounded like the words were punched out between gasps. “So good, Lenny. So gorgeous, so…nnn, fuck, so…” He started to rock his hips forward, thrusts deep and slow, and Len’s legs found purchase by wrapping themselves around Barry’s lean hips. He rocked himself back up into Barry, making them both pant together, hands reaching up so he could hold on to the other man.
“Yeah,” Len tried to keep a handle on his voice but it wasn’t happening. “Yeah, like that, fuck, you feel—ah—that’s so good, Barry.”
The words were slipping out and he held onto Barry, to his slick back, a light sheen of sweat as they moved together, as Barry thrust into him, rhythmic, both of them moving in time. It wasn’t long before Barry was leaning over him more, close enough to start mouthing at all of the sensitive places on Len’s throat, jaw, making him moan and whine, making him capture Barry’s lips in searing kisses so he wouldn’t be driven totally mad by it all. Barry’s cock sliding along his prostate was pushing him to new heights of sensation, of sensitization, shuddering and letting out a new noise with each thrust, too much pleasure for shame at this point.
“Len,” Barry’s voice was a broken gasp near his ear, “fuck, Len, god, you—” he groaned and started to move faster, voice dropping, richer and raspier, telling Len how long, how goddamn long he’d wanted this, thought of him, thought of fucking him, of holding him, of having this, together, how good—“so good, fuck so good”—he felt, how tight and hot and slick. Len was coming apart at the seams, on the edge of just actually coming, Barry’s litany so much filthier and headier than he was anticipating, no way to hide his flush, his own arousal at the words, just open and taking it, taking Barry.
Barry’s hands started to vibrate on his skin and Len choked out his next breath, the hands on his body moving down, electrifying, and—“please Barry, fuck!” The hand wrapped around his cock, using the precum to smooth the way, tugging and vibrating and Len cried out, arched up, body in a hard line of tension as he clutched to Barry and shouted, groaned, almost thrashed and he felt vibration inside of him—fuck—and he was coming, white hot and shaking all over, gasping and moaning, completely unchecked.
He shuddered and shook as Barry sped up, almost impossibly fast but not, still here, still normal speed just on edge and then the other was groaning, biting Len’s shoulder and thrusting an uneven rhythm, deep inside Len’s oversensitive body, panting Len’s name as he came.
Barry collapsed mostly onto Len after, held up by his elbows. Len wanted to let his legs down, sighing, but Barry was still inside him and eventually he nudged the other.
“Mm?”
“You’re kind of…”
“Oh!” Barry pulled out slowly, almost too gentle and Len felt a loss at the strange emptiness after, the reprieve. But then Barry blurred away for a moment, long enough for Len to stretch out, before he was back, lying alongside Len, condom gone and a warm cloth in hand. “In case you want to clean up?”
Len did, wiping away the cooling cum on himself. He wanted to clean up the slickness of his backside too, but that could wait until he had a proper shower, dumping the cloth on the ground and gathering Barry into his arms. The other came willingly, using one arm as a pillow and the other finding its way around Len’s middle.
“This couch isn’t big enough for us,” Barry smiled, seemingly relaxed and Len’s mouth quirked too. Their legs were tangled because both were too tall to stretch out properly.
“I believe that’s the virtue of an actual bed.”
“It still beats a wall.”
Len arched an eyebrow, but couldn't argue. The couch was… a nice touch. One he hadn’t expected, but well, Barry did always manage to surprise him. Barry, who was here. That reality was settling in now. Len had stuck to the script, so to speak, for a means of what to expect, to make sure he was getting what he wanted, needed, out of this mess. Barry had messed it up, but in mostly allowable ways, and that was the point of some of this anyway, to prove that he trusted the other. Well, that and to finally have the sex they’d both obviously been wanting for quite some time.
But now it was time for… “I think it’s time we made a new deal.” It was how the fic had ended. He didn’t have the key anymore, that was left back in the cortex, but the sentiment remained.
Barry’s eyes flicked to his, searching. “Yeah… more than time.”
“This won’t be…easy.”
“This?”
Len stilled, suddenly nervous but Barry continued.
“Please tell me that you mean… that this is more than just sex, right? That we’re…I want to believe that we’re on the same page, Len. That after everything,” he looked down, chewed his lip a little and Len ached to kiss him, “…everything with our personas, with Nerd and Top, with us all this time… I feel like I know you, and that I don’t know near enough of you. But I… I want to…”
“You want this to be something,” Len clarified, heart a little up in his throat. “We both do, Barry.” It had to be said, and after this, Len was willing to take the leap and say it, another calculated risk in his current winning streak.
The other let go a breath, let go of so much tension. “Yeah. I like you, I like who you are when you tease me, when we face off, even. I like who you are behind the scenes, when we’re sharing ideas.” Barry looked at him then away, a shy smile, thumb drifting over Len’s spine. “I like how I feel when I let my guard down around you, when you let me in too.”
“I must say, I definitely didn’t mind the things you were saying when your, ah, guard was down.”
That got the expected blush and Len smirked at the sight, enjoying watching it spread down Barry’s neck and farther. “I may’ve said some things…” he mumbled.
“Some very dirty things.”
“It just, uh…”
“I wasn’t complaining.”
Barry groaned and hid his face in his own arm. “I’m not the most filtered.”
Len kissed his cheek, surprising himself with the tender gesture, but he chased it by teasing, “can’t wait to see what you spout off next time, when I’m the one fucking you.”
Barry’s resulting groan was worth it. “Don’t make me think of that right now or we’ll never make it off this couch.”
“Oh? So some of the other suggestions you had online—your refractory period, for instance?”
Barry glanced up from his arm. “So there’s that, uh, that’s canon too, and so is the--but look, we should really stay on track here.”
Len chuckled, but acquiesced and sat up, reminding himself to go back over every smutty idea that Nerd had ever piped up about in the fandom, suggestions for ways The Flash’s powers might work. He was pretty sure they were going to have some fun things to test, assuming…
“So is this it then, Barry? Are we… doing this?” He wasn’t about to label ‘this’ quite yet. But they were both sitting, naked on a couch in STAR Labs—Len a little more sore than Barry, admittedly—and neither seemed to be running or regretting anything, yet.
“Yeah,” Barry nudged his shoulder and smiled over at him. “Yes? If you’re good with it then… we’ll have to talk some things out, obviously. I swear there’s some good fics for how they come to terms with things, but none of them…my job is gonna be a problem, we’ll have to keep things under wraps.”
“One more thing to hide?”
Barry nodded, a little more somber. “I’m good with secrets by now.”
Len nodded. “Me as well. I can be covert, so long as…”
“Yeah?”
“Will you be sharing this with your friends? Cisco and Snow?”
Barry leaned into Len’s side. “Cisco’s a no-brainer, he’s out with Lisa right now. Also, ‘Elsa’, really?”
Len couldn't help the nickname, and said as much, to which Barry just rolled his eyes.
“Either way, he probably already knows. And the rest…yeah, Len, I don’t want to lie to anyone else, anyone who already knows about me as The Flash anyway. And I guess Lisa knows?”
“Not your name, just…”
“Thank you,” Barry caught his eye to say it, and Len could tell he was surprised at that.
“I gave you my word.”
“Still… thanks.”
“Now that we’ve settled enough for the moment… I could use a shower, Barry.” And later if he could convince the other, possibly a massage.
“Same. One sec.”
Len felt the sweeping sensation of being lifted, and moments later he was standing in the cortex again, pile of clothes on the desk next to him, getting his bearings while Barry blurred into clothing.
“Some warning, Scarlet.” Len hauled his own clothes on at a much more reasonable pace, lower back a little sore now that he was standing, same with the muscles in his legs, hamstrings, but pleasantly so.
“Sure, sure,” Barry waved dismissively, pulling out his vibrating phone. “Sorry, just one sec.”
Len nodded and pulled on his sweater.
“Hey Felicity—what’s-- …huh? But wait—what?!” Barry glanced around a little frantically and Len worried their evening might be interrupted by an emergency after all. But Barry was marching over to a wall for some reason. “Felicity you didn’t actually—what the hell?! Felicity!!” He was… pointing at… ah, it must be a camera. A…
“She didn’t,” Len drawled, a little on edge. Who was Felicity, anyway?
“A—no we don’t need a smoking hot sex tape!”
Okay, Len might like this woman after all.
“Yes I understand the pun on ‘smoking’ and would you stop laughing!” Barry turned to him and shook his head, a little despondent. Len was just sure this woman and Lisa should never, ever meet. “Don’t you—don’t you dare tell Ollie!”
Len waved at the camera the woman was obviously watching them through. “Say hi to—”
Barry glanced at him, waving, and rolled his eyes. “She says hi, Len. And please stop encouraging her. She helped me track your IP address and figure out you were Top, by the way.”
“Is she going to be a problem, Barry?” Len came closer, parka back in place.
“Huh—oh, no? She’s—no, I’m not putting him on the pho—”
Len grabbed the phone. “Good evening.”
“Hi—oh wow you actually took the—I mean I'm Felicity, but you knew that, and I’m definitely not a fan of your work—by which I mean your heists and not a joke about the sex tape—which I didn’t actually watch! That didn’t happen. I was just teasing Barry. But that’s not the point.”
Len was pretty sure he was talking to a crazy person, but he couldn’t get a word in edgewise.
“The point is that if you hurt my friend—I mean beyond having tried to kill him in the past—then me and my friends will make sure your body is never found.”
Len raised his eyebrows and glanced over at Barry. “Miss—”
“Oh and we definitely need to meet properly and not by the wreckage of a train, which I haven’t forgotten.”
“Are you—”
“And the sex tape is definitely being saved on disk but I’ll wipe it from STAR Labs’ security records.”
“I thought you said you didn’t watch it?” his voice was teasing, if a little sharp, but keeping up with this woman was a little difficult.
“I didn’t—I just—I had to ensure when it was over so that I could call—there’s a timestamp—”
“Just ensure I get a copy.” He handed the phone back to a spluttering Barry. “She’s entertaining.”
“Felicity I will call you back and do not tell Oliver! I will tell him when I visit.” He hung up and Len glanced at him.
“Oliver an ex?”
“What—no! No. No, a friend. Just… he’s… it’s…”
“An almost ex?”
“It’s Oliver Queen.”
“Barry…” Len wasn’t quite sure what to do with that information.
“Look, Len, my life is…there’s a lot of craziness, more than it even seems.” Barry looked nervous, curling in on himself. “I’d understand if…”
Len stepped forward, took the phone from Barry and dropped it on the nearest table, then settled his hands on Barry’s waist, because he was allowed to touch, allowed to have this, allowed to enjoy, to reassure. And he knew Barry well enough, knew his friend from fandom well enough, to know what he needed to hear, by now.
“I’m not about to turn my back on this just because your friends are crazy, Barry.” He quirked an eyebrow, and brought up one hand to cup Barry’s face. “Mine are too, you know. But that’s… this… is worth taking a calculated risk or three. The person I know, Nerd from fandom, The Flash, and you, Barry Allen—you’re worth it.”
Barry exhaled, leaned forward, and kissed him. “You know…I ship us.” He smirked a little, and Len smiled into the next kiss.
“We’re my OTP.”
-----
EPILOGUE: @crimsondomingo
As much as Iris would have preferred to be sitting in Jitters enjoying a Flash, she contented herself with the mocha she’d gotten at the coffee shop down the street from Picture News. Less likely to run into someone she knew there, other than the people she planned to meet.
Linda slid into a chair at Iris’s table first, having arrived with her from work and finally securing her own coffee. Iris didn’t bother trying to hide what she was scrolling through on her phone as Linda leaned over to take a peek.
“Who would have guessed Captain Cold would be such a prolific writer, huh?” Linda said.
“I keep telling myself this should weird me out,” Iris grimaced a little at the very detailed depiction of sex—of Barry having sex with Leonard Snart, even if his name was ‘Ryder’ in the written version.
“Oh please, he’s not really your brother. And it’s not…really them.”
Iris shot Linda a skeptical eyebrow raise. “Only now it very much is. It’s been ‘really them’ since we got Barry involved in the fandom, and found out Snart was involved too.”
“His fic is super hot though,” Linda smirked, sipping her coffee. “Gotta admit, little jealous since I know that whole vibrating thing is canon. Barry freaked himself out when we were making out, but I totally know that’s what I felt.”
Iris felt her cheeks fill with color and had to laugh. It had been easier in the beginning to separate fictional Flash and Cold from the version she knew in real life, but subtly helping to get the two of them together for real definitely changed that dynamic.
Still, Linda wasn’t wrong. The last fic WithColdOnTop had posted was beyond hot—steaming. And thanks to Lisa and Felicity, the real thing had gone off without a hitch exactly as they had planned.
“Gotta admit, I am newly converted to Bottom!Cold after this, because… wow,” Iris nodded down at her phone. She’d reread parts of Top’s—Cold’s—Snart’s fic several times now.
“It was even hotter in person, lemme tell ya.” Felicity swung into the seat beside Linda, coffee in hand, which she nearly sputtered on and spit all over the table when she registered what she’d said. “Not that I—not in PERSON, person, like there—I just…” She shook her head, took another sip. “It was hot. I cheered at one point. Almost had to explain to Oliver why when he came in to check on me. THAT would have been bad. He’ll take some buttering up before he gets on this ColdFlash train.”
“Uhh… hi,” Linda tilted her head at Felicity.
“Linda, this is Felicity,” Iris introduced them.
“Oh! Wow, so nice to finally meet you,” Linda said. “All the work you did tracking Barry and Cold’s online activity was brilliant. Their actual conversations were almost as good as one of their fics, especially when they had no idea who they were talking to.”
“Right?” Felicity fell into step with Linda as if she knew her as well as she now knew Iris. “Barry is such a nerd, it’s almost too adorable to stand.”
“Lenny’s an even bigger dork, so they’re made for each other,” Lisa said as she slid into the last chair at the small table in the corner of the coffee shop. She had an iced coffee, which Iris tried not to snicker at, so fitting for the sister of Captain Cold.
“Guys, this is Lisa. She got Cisco out of the labs last night,” Iris said. “How was the date?”
“Wonderful. Though sadly not as amorous as my brother’s, apparently. Cisco’s sweet. He wants to take things slow.” She grinned around her straw as she took a sip.
“Wait,” Linda stared at her. “Lisa? Brother…?” She leaned over the table since Lisa was across from her and whispered, “You’re Golden Glider?”
“Do I need to give you the same shovel talk I gave Cold?” Felicity asked with only slight seriousness.
Lisa laughed. “You gave Lenny a shovel talk? Beautiful. And don’t worry, Cisco is more than safe with me. And if Lenny screws this up with The Flash, I’ll get to him before any of you do, don’t you worry. Those two idiots are perfect for each other.”
“Clearly,” Iris agreed. “I asked Lisa for help when I caught Cisco pining over her. Figured we might see eye to eye on this.”
“Please, Lenny thinks I don’t sneak into his room on occasion? He should know better. Found a crumpled up piece of paper he’d forgotten for one of his fics. Probably some scene he cut. So cheesy and over the top—so him.”
“Really? Do you know which fic, because I would pay for a deleted scene from Top,” Linda said.
“Oh honey, I don’t READ ColdFlash. It’s all fun and games until someone writes about my brother’s dick, then I’m out. But considering the scene was fairly tame, I might have saved it. It’s all yours, free of charge, if I can find the paper again.”
“Awesome.”
“I still can’t believe you two started tumblr fights and comment wars on their posts just to rile them up to defend each other,” Felicity stared impressively at Iris and Linda. “That was stone cold. And I… so didn’t mean to pun just now,” she said when Lisa laughed.
“Thanks for helping us with the dummy accounts,” Iris said to Felicity. “I’d hate to confuse my actual alias for my troll one. But we figured Barry and Len needed a push. It’s not like it takes much to get Barry to rise to Len’s defense. He is his number one cheerleader, it’s pretty adorable.”
“So adorable,” Linda agreed.
“Job well done then,” Lisa nodded. “And obviously I enjoy the fruits of my reward for playing along. But what now? Why the coffee date? You plotting something else, Iris?” She turned to Iris coyly.
“In fact I am. Someone needs to run interference,” Iris said. “Right now we’re the only ones who know about this. Unless Cisco…?”
“Totally clueless,” Lisa shook her head.
“But that’ll change soon enough as they start sneaking around. Our job, ladies, is to make sure no one finds out before Barry and Len are ready to tell them. And that when they are ready to tell someone, that person behaves accordingly. So…softening up Oliver before his turn. Easing my dad into the idea that Snart isn’t so bad after all.”
“Convincing Mick not to tease Len too horribly about bagging someone almost half his age,” Lisa supplied.
“Whoa seriously?” Felicity gaped at Lisa. “Like, how old we talking here? Coz that silver fox thing he has going on is super sexy, but he’s not actually pushing 50, is he?”
“Forty-three.”
“Wow. I am so envious of your genes right now. And your jean…jeans,” she pointed down at Lisa’s dark skinny jeans. “I love those.”
“We should go shopping sometime,” Lisa nodded to Felicity, then turned her head to include Iris and Linda. “Lenny would hate that. Me. Here. With all these lovely women from Flash’s life. We definitely need to do this on a regular basis.”
“Definitely.” Linda tapped Iris’s ankle gently with the toe of her shoe beneath the table, obviously loving this whole covert meeting with the tech genius of Team Arrow and Captain Cold’s dangerous sister.
With an ever widening smile, Iris raised her coffee in the center of the table. “Let’s talk strategy, ladies. To Team ColdFlash. And no more roadblocks in their future if we can help it.”
Felicity snickered at the slight speed pun of ‘road blocks’ but held up her coffee. Linda grandly did the same. Lisa licked her lips like she was getting away with something naughty, which really, they all were, and tilted her iced drink to clash with the others.
“To Team ColdFlash,” they chorused.
“Now about that security footage from STAR Labs,” Linda turned immediately to Felicity.
Okay Team, the full fic has been shared with all of the emails you sent me your chapters from, if you want to read or make any tweaks. Liselle is already flooding it with awesome comments and some thoughts. Please check it out!
Couple extra things. We need a header and icon image for the Collection on AO3. Anyone want to take that on?
And @likes-to-icicle, Liselle had a specific suggestion for you to add that would help fill a gap between the narrative of yours and the next chapter if you’re game.
And then I think we should totally add an additional something with Iris, Linda, Felicity, and Lisa all meeting for a drink at the end, which I detail more in my email to you guys with the fic link. :-) Check it out and let me know your thoughts!
You don’t know. None of you, not even those involved since I’m the only one who’s see all of the parts, fully know how beautiful this ten person (with me as the eleventh getting to put it all together) project really is. Like every single person involved is talented and amazing, no one dropped the ball, or didn’t deliver something truly remarkable for their chapter. This really is something special for the fandom, and I am so excited to share it with you all. So I better get my ass in gear to finish getting this ready so everyone gets to read it this weekend!
