#blanketforts

Barry blinked into conciousness again when he heard the door click shut quietly, but just a bit louder than it had to. He smiled to himself, knowing that his lovers were home. They always made a point of closing the door audibly when they got home, so Barry wouldn‘t get suspicious at someone suddenly entering his house. After all, it wasn‘t like he got to see them terribly often anymore. Most of the time, they were off travelling on the Waverider after all, and even if they always tried to come back to the time closest to when they‘d last left Barry, it would often be a few weeks or even months after they had left. A few treasured times they‘d managed to land a day or two after they had left, and Barry had been overjoyed.

Now, he hadn‘t seen them for about two months, but Len had messaged him earlier, telling them that they were on their way to 2016 for family visiting time. They‘d only be able to stay a couple of days, as usual, and Barry was looking forward to it. He always missed them so much when they were gone.

Len had told him what had happened to Mick, that he‘d been taken captive and turned into Chronos, but that he was back now and safe with them on the Waverider. He‘d also confined in Barry that he was worried about their fiery lover, who woke up from nightmares more often than not and was upset and broody, but wouldn‘t let anyone near enough to help. Not even Len.

So Barry had prepared, of course. Mick needed some extra love while he was home this time, that much was clear. He had recalled a conversation from several months earlier – by Barry‘s measurement, at least – where they had talked about their respective childhoods, and Barry had told them about the blanketforts that Iris and he used to build. It turned out that neither Len or Mick had ever built one, let alone be inside one, and both of them had scoffed at the notion of building one now that they were adults. But Barry knew his lovers, knew how they always tossed anything aside that had to do with Feelings, even if deep in their own hearts they may actually crave it.

Which was why Barry was now slowly sitting up in a very luxurious blanketfort, filled with pillows and more blankets and even a few stuffed toys. Just outside, there was a tray with three mugs of hot chocolate – with mini marshmallows, of course. They were in a stasis to stay warm, as the tray was some piece of tech from the Waverider that Len had swiped and gifted to Barry last year for Christmas. Cisco had gone crazy over it, naturally, and it had been a few weeks before Barry had seen it again. Now he loved it, to put his tea or coffee on while he was working, or when he had to run suddenly, and he knew he‘d not come home to a cold cup of tea ever again.

He poked his head out of the blanketfort just as Len and Mick entered the room, and it struck him how grumpy and old Mick looked. The poor man must‘ve been through hell, and Barry hadn‘t even been there to help him. At least he‘d had Len, he thought as he pushed himself up to his feet and rushed over to them, throwing an arm around each of them and burying his face between their necks.

„I‘m so happy you‘re home“ he whispered, squeezing them as tightly as he could for the few moments that they‘d allow it. But somehow, this time, instead of pushing him away after a couple of seconds they both actually just pulled him in tighter, holding on to him for much longer than was customary for them.

Len was the first one to pull away in the end, looking at Barry with a somewhat vexed look. „I made a mistake“ he whispered, backing away slowly. But before Barry had time to figure out what that could even mean, Mick pulled him back in, glaring at him angrily.

„Don‘t you fucking dare leave again“ he hissed. But then he spotted the hot chocolate and left Barry and Len standing where they were, going over to the tray with a delighted look on his face.

„Finally. Hot chocolate with enough sugar in it!“ he exclaimed and drowned his mug in one go before eyeing the blanketfort. „What‘s this, Red?“

Barry could tell that someone was wrong between the two of them, especially with the way that Len was studiously looking anywhere but Mick, and Mick seemed to only spare fiery glares for Len. He sighed and shook his head. He really didn‘t want to deal with one of their lover‘s spats now.

„It‘s a blanketfort. I thought you deserved to finally be in one, we can just curl up in there and cuddle. It sounded like you could need some good downtime“ he explained as he walked over and held the flap open. Unsurprisingly, it only took Mick a few seconds to give in before he crawled inside, tossing out his shoes and jeans before wriggling between the blankets. Len took longer to join them, and he carefully disrobed down to his underwear and shirt before he even came in. He settled down on Barry‘s other side without a word, but didn‘t even snuggle up to the speedster.

Barry knew when someone was blaming himself, he did it often enough. He also could tell when someone else was blaming that person as well, he remembered Cisco blaming him for Dante‘s death just as much as he himself did. So despite his need for harmony and comfortable relationship time, there was really only one thing he could do.

„Alright, guys. Spill.“

There was only silence for a few heartbeats, but then Len started explaining what had happened, very quietly, much more subdued that Barry had ever heard him before.

And he was right.

He had fucked up. Badly. Really badly.

„I understand if you‘ll both want me to… retreat from this arrangement“ he whispered in the end, and Barry could hear how much it pained him to say that.

When neither of them spoke, he slowly started to draw away and sit up, clearly thinking that yes, they both wanted to break up with him. Barry was still flabbergasted, torn between shouting at Len about how he could possibly leave Mick behind like that, and understanding that in that moment, it was all he could have done, and knowing that Len would always, always come back for Mick. He‘d never abandon him. But Mick had been hurt so badly…

In the end, it was Mick who made the decision for him then, by reaching out and dragging Len back down. „Don‘t hurt Barry as well, Snart“, he growled, and they both knew he meant business when he referred to Barry by his actual name instead of a nickname.

So Len settled down again, tears in his eyes that for once he didn‘t even try to hide. Barry shuffled, wrapping an arm around each of them and pulling them close. Len was still stiff at his side, resting his head against Barry‘s shoulder, but Mick went easily, curling up so his head was lying on Barry‘s chest.

„You should try that hot chocolate later, Snart“ he grumbled. „Red put extra mini marshmallows on one mug for you.“

Barry assumed that was code for „I still love you even though I‘m incredibly mad at you and want to wring your neck“, and he hoped that it meant that they‘d be okay. He knew that he didn‘t want to be without them, that he loved them both so dearly. And Len had fucked up, and badly, but he knew he was trying to make amends now, and that he blamed himself even more than Mick blamed him.

People made horrible mistakes sometimes, he knew that. The question was only, could they move on from it and be better in the future, or would it break them? Barry vowed to make sure that it would be the former.

In the end, it was almost like he had wanted it to be, the three of them cuddled up under the covers, wrapped around one another for a nap. Mick was snoring into his shoulder, his arm thrown over Barry‘s chest. Len was resting one hand on Mick‘s wrist, his face buried in Barry‘s neck to stifle the quiet sobs that Barry pretended not to notice. He gently rubbed Len‘s back as he slowly cried himself to sleep, and only then did he allow himself to drift off as well, safe and sound in his favourite spot on earth, between the two men he loved.

And even if it wasn‘t all rosy and paradise right now, he knew that somehow, they‘d be okay.