What Lovers Do

Been Wishin' For You

   For one thing, Len really liked marshmallows in his hot cocoa. For another, Len really wanted to sneak into Barry’s place.

   He needed answers.

   Len took his gears (he’d learned his lesson the hard way) and shot out from his lair the moment he realized he was out of those fluffy sugar sponges. He marched toward the CSI’s home on impulse for that one damn cup of steaming perfection but obviously, the primary objective was to freak the kid out and take root in the place until the sly hero relented. Barry usually left work at 7 pm so he had ample time to ‘make himself at home’.

   The apartment was not all that humongous, but for a 25-year-old, it was fairly spacious and well-decorated. Len presumed Barry was the frugal type to save money and cut down expenses on superfluous extravagance. He used to regard those kinds as foolish; why take the tedious route when there was a shortcut, a.k.a. stealing? Now, he did not know what to make of that opinion. It wasn’t like he was able to convince Barry into becoming his partner in theft. The thought had actually crossed his mind, with Barry having such a wieldy ability and all, but that was about it. Imagine a CSI investigating his own crime…

   Everything was so full of Barry if that made any sense. The scent, the wallpaper, the slight untidiness, and even the way the furniture was arranged were like windows to the speedster’s being as a whole. But they were nowhere near the ‘sexy’ side he was sickeningly familiar with. It was hard to believe, but Len had somehow unlocked a secret feature within Barry just by being Captain Cold. He wondered how his family and friends would react if they were to be enlightened of this Hyde aspect of their treasured cinnamon roll. Len chuckled as he brushed his fingers over the framed picture of Barry and his best friend----sister, whatever----Iris smiling like two rays of summer sunshine. The subtle smile faded a bit as his attention drifted across it very slowly, and he sensed jealousy lightly tugging at his heart before it was banished immediately. What the hell was he doing, being envious of Barry’s family? Disgusting! Len frowned, backing away.

   Admiring the Barry Allen exhibition was absolutely fascinating, but he was not going to be even more disrespectful (although he wasn’t sure if that even counted at this point) by further rummaging through the house. Besides, it was already ten minutes past 7. Len easily made himself a perfect drink with plenty of marshmallows. The kid had good resources, good taste. A man knew the person was reliable if he had cocoa powder and marshmallows in his cupboard.

 
 He ensconced himself in the only plushy armchair in the place, which was conveniently facing the door. Len sipped the hot chocolate while waiting for the speedster to arrive.

 

   The metallic ring of a key fitting into the keyhole snapped Len out of his daydreams. Shortly after the sound, the door creaked open with a jarring noise. Len had been kind enough to lock the door after he had broken in with no difficulty because he wanted Barry to be unaware of the intrusion until the last moment. He wanted this to be a surprise even when it already was. Where did that theatrical shit even come from? Oh wait, he was always the theatrical villain all along.

   Aaaand, the next sequence of events was a masterpiece. Len wished he could capture the moments in a video----from how Barry froze like a deer in the headlights with wide eyes and hair all damp from the snow outside, to how he banged the door close right after their initial eye contact only to open it once again to storm inside his home like a hurtling wave and gape at Len’s cool figure like he was seeing a phantom. All within fifteen seconds. Without a word.