{I might be lost, but I'm not a lost cause

[myheadisaprison]

PSL with bringstheheat
Pre-canon things, teen things, etc...

Comments

{Fight to cover up the scars, saw your face like a spark in the dark

[mypriority]

Lewis had gone years without laying a hand on her and Leonard almost allowed himself believe that maybe it was different for Lisa because she's a girl. Maybe he wouldn't cross that line with her. Maybe he could be better for her. But all good wishes turn to static in the Snart house eventually.

So of course he crossed that line. And of course Leonard intervened. He had his own wounds to show for it, but it didn't matter. Because the second he stepped in, the brunt of it went to him. He yelled at Lisa to go upstairs and she did, because when Lewis got like this she never questioned or sassed him like she did any other time. And they'd grown up close, with Leonard taking care of her more than anyone else, and she knew from the look he gave her what he really meant. "Pack a bag, we're not staying here tonight."

Once the old man had enough, he grumbled and collapsed on the couch muttering something about lessons that these kids today really need to learn. Leonard went upstairs to check on Lisa, tend to the gash on her shoulder from the beer bottle. And then they waited. They waited for what felt like an eternity, but eventually it was safe. Lewis was out cold, and Leonard tugged the backpack on his shoulders and scooped Lisa in his arms.

He had exactly one destination in mind.

And that was Mick Rory's doorstep.

So we're totally pretending I have younger Mick icons..

[bringstheheat]

The call came late, well after Mick had dozed off on his ratty old couch, beer in hand while he watched the game. It was brief and to the point, Leonard making sure Mick was home and awake and wouldn't open the door with a gun since he was bringing over his baby sister.

Fucking Lewis.

One of these days Mick was gonna kill the old bastard for beating on his partner and little sister.

The lights are on and door unlocked as he pulls it open. "Jesus Christ Lenny." They were both beat all to hell and he could see a freshly dressed wound on little Lisa's neck.

"C'mon. Inside."

{Let it be, just touch me, touch me

[mypriority]

Leonard rarely leaves home without Lisa anymore, he can't risk it. Lewis has taken to hurting her and he can't let it happen if he can prevent it. So, on the nights he needs to escape to Mick's, he packs her some things and brings her with him. And this time? They get to stay an entire weekend because Lewis was out of town and wouldn't be back until Monday.

He's gotten her settled after a late night snack with "Mickey"-- she refuses to call him anything else, it's kind of hilarious. She's asleep on the couch and Leonard's in the back with Mick. They're stuck with no tv because the only one is in the living room, currently running through a worn out tape of Lady and the Tramp. Lis sleeps better with the noise, so Leonard never bothers to turn them off. The boys' only entertainment is a shitty radio that barely picks up any decent stations-- and, well, each other.

Leonard is stretched out on the bed, hands laced behind his head and he turns to look up at Mick, small smirk tugging up one corner of his mouth. "What're you gonna do with me, for a whole weekend, all to yourself?" he asks in a way that is simultaneously as innocent as it is suggestive.

[bringstheheat]

These are the moments that make the rest of the week worth it. The shit job, long hours and crap pay, but Mick does it all without complaint. He has to keep the apartment because Leonard needs it, needs the sanctuary for him and little Lisa.

Hell, he'd saved for weeks just to buy that vcr so she could watch her favorite movies.

Mick is sitting on the other side of the bed, half listening to the movie until his partner says something. The almost-suggestive tone makes his throat go dry. He sets the old, battered Zippo on the floor before shifting to lay with him.

"Pretty sure we can come up with somethin Lenny."

Reaching out, drowning without you

[bringstheheat]

Even after Lenny had moved out, trying to escape the pressure his old man kept up on him, Mick stayed in touch. Sure they fought, more often than not lately now that Snart was even more averse to touch, to any displays of affection or want.

And Mick? Mick still wanted him. So he accepted being shoved away, he accepted being told "not now" or ever, and he vented his frustrations on more fires, on more bar fights. He didn't step out unless it got to be too much and even then he felt like shit about it after.

Still. When Snart calls, Mick will always answer. So when he gets a call with a place and a time, he comes.

The bar is a seedy little dive but Mick can get beer and something to eat while he waits. Lenny. If Lenny needs him, he'll come.

[mypriority]

Somewhere along the way, things shifted. That was just life. Things always changed, and usually for the worse. But Mick? Mick was Leonard's constant. Maybe the only constant he'd had his whole life. But even then...things changed.

Well.
Leonard changed.

Where he once found a certain level of solace in the reassuring touch of his-- they never did quite figure out the word for what they were, did they?-- now, things were... different. Leonard had grown further detached from that side of things. And he needed to focus on the expectations set for him, not....distractions.

That was how he justified it all in his head.
It was the only way he could be okay with his own actions, his treatment of the only person who had always been there when he needed him.

Like now.

Even after the last row between them, one phone call and here he is, Mick Rory, in all his glory, slugging down a beer like nobody's business, waiting on Leonard.

Not that he was late.
Never.
He just waited until the right moment to show himself.

"Hey," he mutters as he slides into the spot next to him.

{Let me give you a proper Christmas

[mypriority]

Leonard and Mick plan the perfect [stolen] Christmas for Lisa.

{Daydreaming of forbidden sins

[mypriority]

"Busy today?"

"Not really. Why?"

"Lewis is out of town for awhile. Figured you could come over."

That was how it started.

That was three days ago.

They'd spent the first two in the house, mostly just laying around and watching movies. Making sure Lisa didn't get into anything she shouldn't and being forced into tea parties with fake tea and tiaras by a very intimidating seven year old. But today, they decided to take Lisa to the park, because it was at least a half-way decent day out-- and also there were demands. Leonard isn't sure where Lisa got all that sass from, but she sure wore it well.

Leonard sat with Mick on a bench, watching Lisa go wild on the monkey bars with some other kids she made instant friends with on the playground. He was bored out of his mind, but she was having fun so, it was worth it. "What else should we do today?" he glances over at Mick, but mostly keeps his eyes on his little sister.

[bringstheheat]

And of course, when Lenny calls, Mick comes. It's always a relief when Lewis is gone, when he can take care of his sister and Mick can hang around without any underhanded comments about his son and his delinquent friend.

Two days of hanging around, watching movies and being bullied into tea parties that frankly reduced Mick to belly laughs when they were both forced into tiaras and drinking imaginary tea from chipped little porcelain cups that Mick grabbed from the local Goodwill for her.

Lisa was having the time of her life and that was enough for both of them. The sun was bright, the kids were loud and there wasn't a decent beer or bite to eat in sight. But Lisa was happy and Leonard was content and they could sit close without having to worry about any sidelong looks.

"Got paid yesterday," he offers. "Could go out for pizza?" Mick should probably save the money, but he's been living check to check since he got his job. Keeping an apartment and food for the sake of Leonard and Lisa.

Shattering

[bringstheheat]

It had been a good summer. Better than good. Lewis would go out carousing with his cheap asshole friends and most of the time he'd be inclined to leave his son behind, or Leonard could slip away and he and Lisa would spend time at Mick's.

They were still figuring things out, things as simple as touch, as simple and as exhilarating as holding hands, or the nights when Leonard would curl up with Mick and sleep beside him. They hadn't even kissed, but even Lisa had picked up on the change, happily chattering about how the three of them were a real family at any given opportunity.

Mick was happy, content enough to even go over to the house when Lewis was out for the weekend, lazing in Leonard's room while they listened to a baseball game and Lisa worked on her homework. They were still holding hands, maybe smiling a little stupidly at one another when Lisa's warning call was enough for them to pull back a bit before Lewis threw the door open.

They were dressed, no funny business, but that didn't stop Lewis from a few slurred jokes about making sure his son wasn't 'fagging it up' with his friend while he was out. Mick saw utter red, blind with fury and it was only the way Leonard's expression shut down that kept him from raising up off the bed and beat the man half to death.

It's a week before he sees Leonard again, hears from him and Mick has been sick with worry. He can't help the way he reaches for him in utter relief. "Hey. You and Lise okay?"

[mypriority]

Things between Leonard and Mick were...steady. Constant. Which was kind of a theme where Mick was concerned and Leonard really liked that about him. Especially with this new, extra layer of...something between them. He still doesn't really know what he's doing, or where it might go, but Mick is patient with him so he doesn't really feel like he has to rush it.

When Lewis burst into the room making wild assumptions--that maybe were a little more true than Leonard was completely ready to admit--he completely shut down. A fake laugh and a comment casting off his dad's concerns with a joke about how he didn't have to worry about that. Lewis didn't notice the nearly vacant look in his son's eyes when he continued with his jokes out the door. Leonard knew he could never, ever let this kind of almost-mistake happen again.

It's a week before he finds his way back on Mick's doorstep, no Lisa this time. "Hey," there's something stiff and stilted in the way he's holding himself and the jerky nod to Mick's question probably doesn't help much. "Yeah. I mean-- as okay as we ever are. She's, um- visiting my grandfather for the day."

There's a beat.
Two.
Three.

"Can I come in?" Not really something he's ever expressly asked before. Just another part of the awkward charge in the air between them right now.

{There's a light on in Chicago and I know I should be home

[mypriority]

There's a certain buzz that comes after completing a job that can't be beat; something like a runner's high, but for thieves instead. It's this buzzing in his brain, an electric shock across his skin that leaves him drunk on success. It's perfect and there's honestly no one else that he'd rather share that feeling with than the man beside him.

Mick Rory was the kind of friend a person only found once in a lifetime-- and that was if they were lucky. Leonard knew he was the luckiest for finding him, because no one else would have ever been the kind of lifeline and steady rock in his life that Mick had been for nearly six years now.

He's still reeling, on top of the world for this job working out exactly the way he'd planned it, grinning as he looks over at Mick. "Can you picture a better scene to end the night on?" he asks, leaning back on his arms, looking out over the cityscape, lit up across the darkness.

[bringstheheat]

It was a perfect job.
Worth every late night as Lenny studied plans and Mick tried to drag him towards the couch to sleep now and then. Hours of studying blueprints and plans and in the end it all worked out. A perfectly executed heist.

But what was better than the job? The light in Leonard's eyes. His smile. God he was so stupidly fucked over the guy. It was enough to watch him lean back and smile.

"No. No I can't think of a better way to end it Lenny," he answers with an easy smile.

Spriraling Apart

[bringstheheat]

If you ask Mick, he can't put his finger on when exactly things started to change between them. It was a slow and gradual thing. Lenny started coming over less. Started needing him less.
Maybe it's because Lewis was stepping up his game, dragging him out on more jobs and threatening Lisa.

Not that Mick would know because Lenny didn't *talk* to him anymore. Not unless it was a job.

It hurt.
It hurt to think about.
So one night Mick sets fire to his couch because that's where he and Lenny used to sit, used to make out after school and before Lisa was ready to be picked up.

He just.. couldn't stand looking at it anymore.

Mick quits his job.
If Lenny doesn't need his place, doesn't need that stability, why keep killing himself for it?

But he still comes when he calls. Because even if Lenny doesn't need Mick - Mick will always need him.

[notjustalostcause]

Leonard wouldn't be able to pinpoint when things shifted if someone asked, either. Maybe a rough estimate at best, but certainly nothing very concrete. Some if it was certainly at Lewis' hand. He needed Leonard on jobs more now, particularly because he tended to catch angles that his father or the rest of the crew didn't-- all that outside the box thinking he did on his own heists. The rest... He can t really explain, it's just sort of happened. He gradually became more and more closed off and it extended to every part of him and his life, even Mick.

He doesn't necessarily like the way things have changed, but he's become so used to it that trying to go back just doesn't feel possible any more. He isn't the same person he was a few years ago, he can't do things the way he did then.

Mick has become distant in ways that are far more dangerous than Leonard wants to admit. But he never really leaves. Never says no when Leonard calls. And that means the world to him-- except he doesn't know how to say that in words as much these days.

He's sitting at his usual perch in a booth in the back at Saints and Sinners and he spies the living brick wall of a man at the bar. An accidentally-on-purpose run-in. He didn't actually mean to memorize the most frequent times that his partner showed up here, but he did. And he happened to be here during one of those blocks of time.

He takes his half-finished beer from the table and slides out of the booth, sliding up to the seat next to him at the bar. "Hey, Mick."

{All I need's a solution to this tricky equation

[mypriority]

This may be the biggest heist yet-- of course, that is said about nearly ever new one he concocts, but that's entirely not the point. The point is that Leonard has been utterly pouring over plans for hours, days really, but his current jaunt has been going for a good six or seven solid hours so far.

Truth is, there isn't really anything else to go over. It's just that waiting out another three entire days has him on edge because hurry up and wait is the absolute worst game to ever have to play. This, at least, gives him the semblance of doing something useful. Even if it's pointless, and there is nothing left to set up or look over, it feels productive.

Mick's on edge in his own way, and he's made it abundantly clear that he knows exactly how to unwind. Except Leonard has shown exactly zero interest or intrigue at the subtle passes he's made at all. It's just the two of them in the safe house, so it's easier for him to try to be a distraction than it is when the others of the crew are around. But it's really hard to concentrate on what he's doing when there's a hand grabbing for his hip or lips brushing against his neck.

"Not now, Mick." It's not an uncommon grumble of his, really. It's become almost a default in the last he's-lost-count years. There may have been a time when he was receptive to it, but the distance has been shoved between them so far that what they had back then isn't even recognizable or comparable to what they are now. Leonard's okay with it, more or less. It's been the way it is now for long enough that he doesn't always feel as bad for being the way he is. Mick has stuck by his side through all of it, so he doesn't really have anything to worry about.

[bringstheheat]

Mick is on edge because there is absolutely nothing for him to do. Nothing he's needed for. No, he's been pacing the safehouse like a caged animal for the last half day and he is utterly done. A hand reaching for Leonard, some way to distract him if only for a little while. To get lost in a different sort of heat. Touch. It's been so long since he's done more than lay beside his partner, even trying to tangle their fingers together is shaken off or ignored these days.

Every time he's pushed away. Ignored.
Not needed.
The job is planned down to the letter and he can't even take a moment for them because he doesn't need it like Mick does.

Mick spins away in a fury, grabbing the rest of his beer and downing it and it takes a tremendous effort not to throw the goddamned thing. "Stop ignoring me goddamn you."

Mine and mine alone

[bringstheheat]

It's just a job.
Mick has been repeating that in his head for the last hour and a half and it's doing nothing to calm his simmering temper.
It's just a job.

When he wants to, Leonard Snart can be a charming son of a bitch. A flirty bat of lashes, a tip of his head indicating interest, that smile of his. But it's all a con, working an angle to get the information he wants for yet another heist.

Mick has been sitting in the back corner of the hotel bar watching Leonard in a fancy suit laugh and talk easily to the woman beside him. Her hand falling on his arm like it's nothing. Easy touches. Smiles.
Things that had once been his and when Leonard crinkles his nose at her Mick comes dangerously close to losing his cool. He's supposed to be there as the backup, to watch Snart's back and make sure that the woman's bodyguards don't interfere.

It's just a job.
But damnit if Mick doesn't hate every last second of it. He can't even do more than nurse the whiskey he has, needing to stay sharp and alert while Snart appears distracted in the woman.

She stumbles getting to her feet and like a gentleman, Leonard is there to catch her arm and escort her back to her room where he'll pull the information he needs. Mick is on his feet too, taking the stairs to track them back to the right floor.

.. christ. She's all over him. Hands and laughter and soft, sultry promises and Mick can barely stand it as Snart gets her inside.

He's all but vibrating with tension as Leonard exits the room, smiling smugly.

[mypriority]

There's something dangerously easy about this sort of con, especially for someone so cagey and the polar opposite of the part he's playing. But Leonard is good at what he does and it all manages to go off without a hitch. A few well-played comments, and subtle little key glances and other minor indications of interest and his mark was putty in his hands.

He knows Mick is watching in the back of the bar, and he can feel his presence as the game moves back to her hotel room, though he's not seen in the hallway at all. Leonard is in the room for no longer than it takes to get exactly what he wants, but certainly longer than he would have wanted to spend for literally any other reason at all.

He's smug as all hell when he walks out, and Mick is there waiting. "Got it." Nothing in the universe could wipe that smug smirk off his face just then. This night could not have gone better.

{These letters to you aren't much, I know, but I'm not sleeping, so I'm writing to you again

[mypriority]

Unsent letters and excerpts from old notebooks

[Age: 19]

[mypriority]

Sick day..

[bringstheheat]

Mick knew the second he woke up it was gonna be bad. The flu had been going through the restaurant staff like wildfire and people were dropping like flies. The tickle in the back of his throat that had been bothering him for days turned into a full blown cough overnight and he was warm enough to be running at least a mild fever.

Whatever. Tissues, soup, aspirin. Let's do this.

Mick calls off for the week. Sure work wasn't happy about it, but it also wouldn't help anyone for him to drop on the line in the middle of a rush.

Then he sends a text to Leonard.

'Sick. Don't come over. You don't want this mess.'

[notjustalostcause]

If Mick thought that text would actually keep Leonard away, he has another thing coming. To his doorstep, specifically, roughly an hour or so later. He's heard about the so-called plague going around lately and he knows it's been particularly rough for people ending up with the flu this year. No way is he letting Mick deal with Death Plague Flu on his own.

He lets himself in with the key Mick had given him months ago. He rarely actually uses it because habit keeps him knocking on the door, but this is kind of a special case. He's not about to put up with objections from the other side of the door.

The apartment is shrouded in darkness, blinds drawn, which says Mick's got the killer variety of headaches, and it's quiet, but there is still a soft murmur of the tv coming from the back room. Whether he's awake right now or it can't be determined because the guy sleeps like the dead on a regular day, Leonard can only imagine how much harder he falls under while sick.

He locks the door behind him out of habit and sets a bag on the counter-- nothing fancy, couple cans of different soups, a few bottles of water, cough drops, and some basic OTC meds. Look. He's just being prepared, not like he's fretting or something. Don't judge him.

Once everything is where he'll know and at easy access, he moves quietly through the apartment toward the bedroom in the back, hanging in the doorway, trying to determine if he was awake or not, so he could just let him keep sleeping, if he wasn't.

Be mine? Wait. You already are..

[bringstheheat]

It doesn't mean anything.
It doesn't.

Mick just happened to lay his hands on a set of lockpicks and a new jacket that Leonard had been lusting after for the last month and a half. So they were laid out on the cracked old laminate table in his kitchen while he waited for Lenny to come by, whenever that might be.


It has nothing to do wth the fact that it's Valentine's Day.
It doesn't.

Even if he put a few chocolates to go with them on the table.

[notjustalostcause]

Leonard is so...entirely out of touch with the world at large that if not for being constantly assaulted with red hearts and engagement ring ads, he wouldn't have even known the day. As it is, he can't quite ignore it, but he doesn't think much about it.

Sure, he and Mick are... well, Leonard doesn't know the right word for what they're doing because it's not really dating, but they're doing that and they're partners but they weren't the type for things like Valentine's Day.

Doesn't mean the fact that today was V-Day hadn't managed to slip his mind for awhile, though.

"Where'd you get this?" He asks, eyes lit up like Christmas lights as he checks over the lockpick set, already eager to break it in.

{Painting pain with pastels through cemetery eyes, into the night we ride, scars wide open

[mypriority]

This last long stretch of months in the wake of the fire that nearly claimed Mick seemed to go forever. He was lucky to be alive at all, and the damage, physical and otherwise, was deep and brutal and harsh. The recovery period seemed to stretch on forever, too, but eventually thing a resumed to something sort of shaped like normal.

Sort of.

Some of Mick's most basic habits changed after the fire, even the way he dressed. He went from not caring much at all about showing skin--sleeveless shirts were always a staple in his wardrobe--to a much more conservative, covered style of dress.

Leonard understood it without even needing to question it. He didn't like it--the way it looked, the way people looked at him if they saw the marred skin--and Leonard understands that sentiment entirely. He's never been one for wearing any sort of revealing clothing, and at least part of that is the scars from growing up with an abusive fuckhead as a father. So, he doesn't have to ask about the shift in dress, or the way Mick suddenly isn't as quick to try to initiate anything intimate anymore because he gets it.

He gets it and he hates it. Not because Mick feels the way he does, but that it changed a core piece of him so drastically. That Mick understands, in a wholly visceral way now, how Leonard has always felt about his own scars.

But he also knows there are ways to help with those feelings, too. And it's a thought that's been twisting in his mind all day.

The night is as normal as any other, quiet and just the two of them at home while Lisa is God-knows-where with Leonard-doesn't-want-to-know-who. Mick is watching something Leonard hasn't paid one minute of attention to on TV because he's been focused on a book he's reading.

But he's read this paragraph three times and he's tired of trying to find that focus again, so finally, he marks his place and sets it aside. It's then that he moves, almost seamlessly, from the chair he'd been in to a spot on the couch next to Mick. "What're you watching, anyway?"

[bringstheheat]

The fire should have killed him.
But it didn't and the recovery was long and terrible. Mick soldiered through it, through the therapy and through the painful healing. He survived and Mick wasn't going to give that up. He was going to fight.

It took even longer for him and Leonard to get back to something resembling normal but he wasn't going to give up on that either.

At first he didn't change what he wore, but after the first expressions of horror or shock by someone on a crew or just at a bar at the scars that twisted down his arms and across his torso, Mick started covering them up. He started hiding them.
The scars reminded him of just how far he and Snart had spun away from one another.

How badly he'd messed up.

So he wears long sleeves. Gloves.
Keeps them hidden.

A hum at Leonard's question. He's only barely been watching himself and flicks it off, leaving the remote on the table. "Nothing interesting. Thought you were reading?"

Life on the inside - juvie

[bringstheheat]

All in all, it's not that bad. Mick is big enough by now that none of the other kids mess with him. There's routine and structure and it'd be okay if it weren't for the sessions with the shrink and the fact that nobody will let him near fire. Sure the other boys think he's crazy and he doesn't dissuade them from it. If you're crazy, people leave you alone.

Until his cellmate gets sprung. Early release.
Lucky fucker.
Not that Mick has anywhere to be or anyone to go home to. Nope. He's stuck until he's eighteen and the foster care system breathes a huge sigh of relief that he's gone.

Whatever.

Then he sees the new kid brought in off the bus along with the rest. Skinny. Scrawny. Doesn't say a word to anyone at all. Mick has seen enough people come and go that he doesn't really give the runt a second thought. He won't be here long. He's not the type to make it in places like juvie.

But over the first week or so, he keeps catching sight of him. Weird and quiet, withdrawn. Completely still in an ocean of chaos and shoving figures. If the kid isn't just watching people with sharp eyes, he's hunched over a pad of paper, scribbling away. Artsy type. Yeah, this kid is fucked. He won't make it.

It starts to really bug Mick.
What's he doing? What's he drawing? And why is he always just looking at people?
What the hell did he do to wind up in a dump like this?

Screw it.
Two weeks in Mick gives up. At lunch he just takes his tray and drops into the seat across from the quiet kid. "You don't say much do you?"

this icon is literally labeled WTF. you're welcome, Mick.

[notjustalostcause]

Leonard is utterly livid about being here, not that anyone would ever be able to tell. His is a quiet, simmering sort of anger that is potentially far more dangerous than anyone more prone to the explosive kind. Sure, that brand is epic proportions bad in the immediate, but Leonard holds onto it, lets it fester and grow and plans the best form of attack at the best possible opportunity for it later. Lewis forcing him into taking the fall for a job gone sideways? Oh, it'll cost him. Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not next week, maybe not for another year or more. But it'll come. And it won't be pretty.

He gets off that bus with one plan in mind, and one plan only: Keep to himself, don't start any trouble with anyone and do his time to get home to his little sister as quickly as he can.

The first two weeks, no one really bothers him. Most people look at the quiet artsy kid and figure he's no one they need to worry about. He's quiet and even borders polite to the staff compared to the way most of the other boys treat them; that politeness would almost be enough to get him teased or smacked around, if any of them viewed him as a threat.

Today, though, something changes.

Today, the giant that Leonard has definitely noticed people tend to go out of their way to avoid or whisper about when they think he won't notice, drops into the seat across from him at lunch.

He's heard pieces of those whispers.
He seems to be called "Rory", near as Leonard can tell.
And there were rumblings about his whole family being murdered, arsonist style.
Some people seem pretty convinced he did it himself.
Others seem adamant it was on purpose and he's a psychopath.

Leonard really didn't want to find out first-hand which parts, if any of them, were true. But apparently, he doesn't get a choice.

His eyes slide slowly up to the other boy's face, looking a lot like he can't quite be sure that he's talking to him. No one else is around, so he must be, so Leonard says exactly one thing to him before taking a pointed bite out of the food on his tray.

"Nope."

Taking The Fall

[bringstheheat]

The job was going to go bad. Leonard knew it and Mick could read it in the tension in his shoulders, the frustrated looks, the way he's more prone to snap, to push back hard on anyone and anything.

Especially Mick.
He was pushing hard, picking at all of Mick's buttons but this time Mick could see through him, he could see why. Leonard didn't want him caught up in what was undoubtedly going to be a clusterfuck of a job led by his idiot old man. They were going to get caught at best, at worst someone was going to get shot. Maybe killed.

So the night of the job Mick allowed his partner to think he was keeping his distance, to think that he was just going out to drink for the night and Leonard was too distracted, trying to see a way clear of getting caught to argue it.

Mick can move quietly when he wants to. Dark leather jacket and soft soled shoes. He's backing up his partner whether he knows it or not.

Predictably the job goes to shit.
Gunfire. Alarms. Cops.

As Leonard races through the alley, trying to find an escape Mick is right there, pulling him into the shadows. "Gimme the bag Lenny," he hisses. "Fast."

[notjustalostcause]

Leonard has been mad about this job from the word 'go'. Even though most of the time, Leonard's penchant for seeing things from angles he doesn't always catch is exactly why Lewis likes to pull him in on jobs, for some reason, he was just stubbornly set on doing this one his way. No matter how many times Leonard tried to interject ways this could go wrong, Lewis shut him down.

He goes along for the job because he doesn't feel like he has the option to opt out. He'd made it abundantly clear to Mick to stay the hell away from this, but he hadn't thought clearly enough to not rant at him all about the job and the things Lewis was screwing up at Mick before he made t hat point. So Mick knew all the ins and outs of the job. But he promised he'd steer clear, and Leonard took him on his word.

It's pretty fortunate for Leonard that Mick didn't listen to him. And pretty fortunate for Mick that he was forward-thinking enough to slam one hand over Leonard's mouth when he yanked him out of the alley. There's panic like lightning on all of his senses as he tries to process, to figure out who had grabbed him and how he was going to get out of the hold and--

Mick.
His stomach flips as he registers the person who's grip he's in and what he's asking.

He spins and rounds on him, eyes wide. "What are you doing?" His words are sharp, incredulous.

{Can't sleep with all this noise in my brain

[mypriority]

Insomnia strikes after Leonard makes the choice to leave Lewis' house for good and bunks with Mick in their first safehouse.

I'm Burning for you..

[bringstheheat]

Mick can't take much more of this.
Sitting beside Leonard on the couch, stretched on the floor in front of the couch while his partner reads and Mick is itching for touch. Desperate. Anything. God all he needs are those fingers on his skin to ground him and soothe away the static in his head.

Still. Leonard won't touch and Mick is going to crawl right out of his skin in his desperation. In his despair.

He doesn't want to follow through on their "agreement".
He doesn't.

But he's so lonely.
He's so lonely it's gonna kill him. But even still Mick won't beg for it. He won't. Leonard won't understand and he'll be damned if he gives him ammunition for their next fight.

He hates this.
He hates himself for being so damn weak. Just like his old man always said. Too stupid. Too needy. Too weak.

[mypriority]

Legs curled under him, book in his lap, Leonard is effectively oblivious to anything that may be crawling under the surface of his partner's mind. Or, at least, if he notices, he isn't choosing to act on it, which is arguably even worse than him not noticing in the first place.

Either way, he doesn't seem like he's going to be doing much else tonight. He's quite content just like this, right where he is. He does cast a glance over at Mick in the middle of flipping the page of his book. He seems tense. Leonard's fingers twitch, but once the page is turned he returns to the book and doesn't say a word.

{Can't you see, the harder I try, the more we grow apart

[mypriority]

After somewhere in the ballpark of eight years of the same argument, things just get old and tired. There's no real way out of this particular one without explaining things that Leonard has, honestly, tried to bury and forget about entirely. But the explanation would clear a lot of things up and it would stop this circular fight he and Mick have so often.

The night has started off simply enough. Movies and beers at home, just them. Lisa's doing whatever it is that nineteen year olds do these days and Leonard is trying not to think too hard about the kind of trouble she might end up in.

[bringstheheat]

Eight odd years now.
Eight years of Mick reaching out and Leonard flinching away like he was gonna somehow hurt him. Him. Mick Rory. The guy who had gone to jail for him. The guy who would take a damn bullet for him.

The guy who was so damn gone on him he can't imagine life without Leonard in it.

Still. Here they are again. Just this side of drunk and Mick reaching out to touch just for the sake of contact. He's not looking for sex. He just needs his partner.

{In these stories we want to know, will they or won’t they?

[notjustalostcause]

Most of Leonard's days here have been full of time with Mick, just talking and getting to know each other. This became a lot easier once they became bunkmates, and it was pretty good for Leonard. He liked this whole having a friend thing. He just didn't think about the fact that eventually, it would be over, and this friendship would be lost to an imperfect system.

Some days, though, just weren't good, like anywhere else. Small things mounted into bigger ones and it set the mood all kinds of wrong. Some of it was other boys in the center, some of it was asshole staff. Leonard was just not in a good mood when he made his way back to his room with Mick.

Nothing about Leonard's demeanor is giving off anything even vaguely shaped like good vibes as he drops onto the lower bunk with a soft huff. He doesn't say a word, just stares up at the bottom of the mattress above him.

Re: {In these stories we want to know, will they or won’t they?

[bringstheheat]

Mick has been in a sour mood all day. A nearly day long visit with the shrink, no time outside, word that another foster family was bailing on him.. he just wants to go back to his bunk, to where the one person who seemed to give two shits about him should be by now.

He arrives an hour later, flinging himself on the top bunk with a growl.

God he hates this. Hates being told how wrong he is, how messed up in the head.

{Well I'm a tumbler born under punches, but I could take a bullet for the right person

[notjustalostcause]

Maybe in retrospect, diving in the middle of a fight with a group of boys who were all substantially bigger than him was not the best idea. But Leonard would be damned if he let Mick get jumped because a group of idiots decided it would be the best way to show their dominance in the place. That had to be what it was, a power play by new guys who don't know any better, because everyone that had been here for very long at all knew you didn't mess with Mick.

When he saw the group of guys who rivaled Mick's size going after him, all he could do was whatever it took to get them off of him. And he could take a punch better than anyone, he'd been doing it since he was six years old, so he wasn't too concerned about diving headfirst into the mix.

His ribs were protesting a lot at that now, but he wasn't really going to talk about it. Even as he was laid up in medical on a bed probably not a foot from Mick's own. They were friends, this is how friendship works, right?

[bringstheheat]

It doesn't happen often, people going after Mick in groups. He's one of the bigger guys there and he's been there almost as long as anyone with a reputation for being crazy and unstable. Hell, most kids are smarter than that. But the smart ones don't always wind up in juvie right?

The first shot was the one that had stunned him, a blow to the head followed up with something solid crashing down on his shoulder and the sickening snap of bone. Mick had nearly blacked out from the pain and was lashing out at anything he could until his vision cleared to see Leonard tearing into the fight as well.

No.
Jesusfuck.
If he gets shivved again..

But the staff broke up the fight and got their busted asses over to medical.

"Snart?" His voice is foggy from the pain meds but he has to hear him, has to know that he's okay.

Startled into confessions

[bringstheheat]

They didn't get nights like this often.
Lisa was at a friend's for the night and Lewis wasn't dragging Leonard out on some half-assed job again. Mick had the night off and had agreed to meet him at a bar just around the corner that never looked too closely at IDs or ages as long as you didn't start stirring stuff up.

He'd gotten off his shift early, grabbed a shower and headed for the bar to wait.

Which is when a guy at the bar starts chatting him up. Cautious at first, but the chatting quickly becomes flirting and Mick.. doesn't push him away when he lays a hand on his wrist, he doesn't stop him when he shifts closer.
Mick might be hopelessly in love with Leonard, but he's also human and it's been a long damn time.

And he's pretty sure Leonard only sees him as his friend so what's the harm in flirting back? Not that he's any good at it but it's nice. Maybe he'll get lucky if Snart winds up bailing on him.

[notjustalostcause]

Leonard didn't want to go on this job with Lewis, but he didn't have much choice in these things, so he toughed it out and played the part. Did everything he was asked to, without question, because it was the best way to get through the thing and get out to go do what he actually wanted. The thought of eventually ditching his dad for the bar meeting with Mick was kind of what go him through the whole ordeal.

At least this one went off without incident, at least. And he got to leave when he was supposed to.

Thankfully, the bar wasn't far and he slips inside easily enough with no issue. His eyes scan the dim-lit room for a familiar face.

{I think I'm drunk enough to say I love you

[notjustalostcause]

Leonard doesn't drink often, and he never drinks heavily. Force of habit from watching his father deteriorate into an abusive fuck every time he had a bottle in his hand. But some nights... it was necessary. He needed to relax and a couple beers or a few shots wasn't gonna kill him or turn him into a rage monster. He was always careful about it, so it was always fun.

Especially with Mick. But that was everything, really. Everything was better with Mick and it was so easy to be himself with him.

They're more beers than he's bothered to count into the night, sprawled across the bed in the bedroom in the back. Leonard's a little sideways, lying width-wise across the bed, his head on Mick's chest.

"I can't wait to get out of there," he says suddenly into the comfortable silence they'd fallen into. His finger slides against the inside of Mick's wrist, drawing idle patterns. "be here all the time...full-time," he tilts his head up to look at him, watching his reaction to that simple statement curiously. There's more resting on the end of his tongue, but he wants to judge that first before pushing it too far, just yet.

[bringstheheat]

Neither of them drink too heavily - too many bad memories associated with whiskey breath and heavy fists and angry words. But together? It feels safer. Like they can let down their guard and know that the other one will help keep them grounded.

It had been a rough couple of weeks and right now they both needed this. Stretched out on his bed, Leonard laying with him, his fingers tracing along the sensitive part of his wrist idly. It goes perfectly with the warm, loose-limbed feeling of being at least a little drunk.
Mick also might be a little touch drunk as well but that was his secret.

A fond smile at the idea. "Yeah Lenny. Yeah that'd be great. You stayin here all he time. With me." They hadn't really discussed it yet but if he wanted to stay with him? Mick is totally on board.

{You're always first to take care of me at my worst, let me appreciate you, take in all that scenery

[mypriority]

Living with Mick was not new at this point. There was a routine between them by now and it was the sort of thing that neither of them really even thought about any more. It's almost overly domestic in a lot of ways-- they go to sleep together, wake up together, have breakfast together. There's little they do on their own any more because they simply don't have to.

One of Mick's routines is a steady, daily round in the extra room he's set up as his own personal gym. Leonard had always known he worked out, but it wasn't until they were living together that he realized there were unknown benefits to such things.

And he isn't talking about the benefits for Mick.

It happened the first time completely on accident. He'd been intending to ask Mick's opinion on something, but he kind of forgot the point when he got to the doorway and his eyes landed on a focused, sweat-slicked Mick. It was hard not to stare and his thoughts sort of just dissipated.

The second time was a little more intentional, though he made it look more casual than it was. Lounging on the couch shoved in a far corner of the room, flipping idly through a book. But he couldn't have even told someone the title of it, because his eyes were locked on the way Mick moved, a certain kind of grace in the brute force he rained down against the bag in the corner.

Eventually, Mick caught on, though Leonard couldn't say what specifically might have given him away-- maybe his gaze lingered a little too long on that stupid little V-shaped muscle leading south from his abs. He made a show of it that day, and before he slipped off to go grab a shower, he muttered hotly against Leonard's ear, "If you wanna watch , all you gotta do is ask ."

Then they kind of had a new routine. Leonard was always welcome to watch him work out; sometimes he did, sometimes he didn't, but they both enjoyed it when it happened. Leonard got a pretty view, and Mick got the bonus of feeling wanted.

Today was different.
Today, Leonard skipped watching Mick's gym routine in favor of working on getting a rough idea sketched out for the next job they were trying to put together. No harm, no foul, just had something else taking up his time.

He barely even registered it when Mick wandered by toward the shower. Nothing bad or out of the ordinary, just too lost in his plans.

[bringstheheat]

Living with Leonard is just as nice as Mick thought it would be. There are patterns and routines that are easy to fall into. No waking him up early so he can dash home and even better, no late nights pounding on his door for help because Lewis had taken his fists to him. He's content like this.

Working out was the best way to clear his head, something he'd learned during his first stint in juvie long before Leonard Snart had come into his life. It helped to calm him down and center him. The easy rhythm of his gloves on the heavy bag as the rest of the world fell away. Weights in motion.

It made him broad and strong and he could use that strength to protect Lenny. Hell, he'd used that strength to protect him lots of times already.

What he didn't expect was the way that he'd catch him watching when he was about done. Glances that lingered a little too long and it was good. Set up a warm feeling of satisfaction in his chest. Lenny liked it.
.. and the day that he told him he could watch? Well. It had ended pretty well for both of them.

It doesn't bother him when he isn't watching as much as it doesn't bother him when he is. He's feeling good, loose limbed and warm and after a quick shower he makes for the kitchen, towel low around his hips. (Lisa had insisted after what she called The Incident that there was no more naked walking around).

He drops a kiss to the back of his neck, Leonard still sketching out stuff on a couple of different pads of paper. "Still workin on that?"

June 6

[bringstheheat]

Anymore they had a pretty set routine.
Mick is up and out of bed early, reaching outside the door to snag or steal a newspaper for Snart to read before he gets a cup of coffee and starts in on his morning workout.

The headline however catches his attention.

Silently he pads over to his coat, reaching into a hidden pocket in the lining.

So when Leonard wakes, he'll find a cup of hot coffee by his paper and resting atop the headline that gay marriage is officially considered legal?
A familiar old and battered ring.
A question that neither of them would have the stomach to ask or even answer, but a question all the same.

[mypriority]

The morning started out the same as any other. He's woken by sunlight filtering between the blinds, the smell of coffee coming from the kitchen. He feels his age in his bones and his joints more than he used to and he hates it, but it is what it is and he eventually can't handle lying in bed, awake and inactive.

He pads quietly down the hall and into the kitchen. First, coffee. And then he moves easily, routinely to the kitchen table where he knows to expect to find the daily paper sitting.

What he didn't expect was the ring. Old, a little worn from so many years gone by. He can't help the little half-smile that twitches across his lips as he picks it up, holding it up between two fingers.

"Why--" but before he can finish asking that question, the words die on his lips as his eyes catch the headline on the front page.

"Oh." The word is barely a whisper and he doesn't even know how to react or what to say. His lips roll together against the smile threatening to break across his lips.