#tiger writes

It was infectious and soon Len was snickering into his cup, shaking his head. “It wasn’t that funny,” he insisted even as his shoulders shook with near silent laughter. He took the packet of honey to drizzle into his tea and bumped Barry’s knee under the table in thanks. 

Their conversation was relaxed and genuine from there. 

After that, it became a habit. A joke between them that the Rogues and other heroes didn’t understand or find nearly as funny as the pair of them did. 

Len calling Barry his Darling as he aimed the Cold Gun at his feet -he’d long since stopped aiming at his chest- and freezing him in place to make an escape. 

Barry crooning Snow Prince as he slapped cuffs on Len’s wrists, knowing that they would be slipped long before the police finally made an appearance to drag him into custody. 

Angel, when they stood shoulder to shoulder against a common foe who would reel back in confusion when the ‘angel’ in question would attack with a ruthlessness that Flash never would. 

Baby, when Barry came to Len for help with an undercover mission into the criminal world, this murmured just above earshot as Len kept a protective arm around Barry’s waist and glared down anyone foolish enough to get too close to him until the job was done and he got him safely back home, his virtue and conscience untarnished. 

Shining Knight, after Len stepped between Barry and Oliver who was shouting him down for stooping so low as to work with a criminal. The bruised knuckles from Queen’s teeth were worth it when Barry had given him the title as he pressed ice to them and held his hand a bit longer than necessary. 

Lightning Bug, named through breathless laughter while leaning back on the grimy wall of a barside alley in a rough part of town after Barry won his fifth hand of poker of the night and been accused of stealing before he could sweep his winnings into the growing pile on their side of the table. The fight had ended after just a handful of minutes when Len broke a pool cue over a drunk gambler’s head and they made their escape out the emergency exit. The heated look in Barry’s eyes was worth more than his cut of the pot for teaching him how to palm cards. 

My Love, whispered against each other’s lips in the dark of a hotel room in Keystone where they found themselves, not Cold or Flash, just Len and Barry, with their lives as enemies locked on the other side of the door and held at bay until morning. 

My Love, mumbled sleepily under fresh bed linens as sunlight streamed in through the blinds to remind them it was time to start the day. 

My Love, quick, casual, accompanied by a peck on the cheek before one vanished in the flash to make it to work on time and the other got started on the breakfast dishes.