hypothermic | Leonard Snart // Captain Cold

Not like there's anywhere else to be.

[ Leonard's lying on the couch reading a magazine. It's a lazy day. Every day was a lazy day without a job.

He licks his thumb and flips the page. Jeweller's Monthly. Anything worth stealing is worth writing about. He'll have plenty of ideas when they get back to Central City.

Ray's sweater, black lounger leggings and a pair of blue fur-lined slippers. That's how comfortable he's gotten here. And with Ray. ]

Mick's out grabbing Thai.

Edited 2016-06-25 20:39 (UTC)

[ It takes him one look at what Len is wearing to realize what a bad idea this was. It also takes him that one look to decide he will just not look at Len's legs again during the duration of this interaction because they're distracting and is that his sweater?! By the time he manages to tears his eyes away he's already forgotten whatever it is Len said. ]

Uh.

[ Ray takes a moment to get his line of thought away from how long Len's legs are and how he straddled him that one time and how many cold showers he's taken since. He needs something. It seemed somewhat important like a minute ago. What was it?

He runs a hand through his hair, trying not to looking nervous and that's when he remembers.

He needs to not wake up with a shaved head one morning. ]

I need a haircut. Mick threatened me with a razor and I'm scared.

[ It's mostly a joke. He would survive a shaved head, he'd just really rather not have to. ]

No problem. Grab a bowl and I'll be right over.

[ Ray has been getting shaggy of late. Like a big, black dog. The kind where you can't see the eyes, just a nose and a dragging tongue.

Speaking of dragging tongue.

Ray hasn't been the same since the kiss. Leonard could feel worse about it. At least he wasn't crying over his dead fiance anymore. Whatever project he'd started up was keeping him busy and relatively happy. He eats and sleeps. They don't need to babysit him anymore. He doesn't know what this means for them, or the team as a whole, but it's good enough for now. They'll figure things out.

He scans the last page, tosses the magazine somewhere onto the table behind his head and yawns with a cat-like stretch. Arches his back until there's a satisfying snap, crackle and pop. ]

Admiring my slippers? They come in red.

[ Ray sets the scissors and comb down and starts rummaging for a bowl. He's not entirely sure what the bowl is for, but there's that saying about gift horses and thinking isn't coming to him as easily as it does usually. ]

Kinda disappointed there aren't any snowmen on them, feels like an oversight. [ He finds a bowl and sets it down with the rest of the stuff before turning back to Len. ] Do the red ones come with tiny atoms on them? Because otherwise what's the point?

[ He has a crush, he knows he has a crush, Len probably knows he has a crush. That doesn't mean he can't work around it. As long as he keeps his eyes away from Len's legs, anyway. ]

Snowmen are sexist. Frosty was a clown. Snowflakes are where it's at. They're perfect and special. Like I am.

[ He swings his legs over the side of the couch and stands with lazy grace. The motel is always in a state of organized chaos. Empty beer bottles, tools and miscellaneous junk strewn over every surface. The table is covered in graphing paper scrawled in red and blue pen, schematics to add a battery reserve to the cold gun for a longer charge.

He brushes it aside, practically onto the floor, and claps the back of the nearest chair for Ray to take a seat. ]

Maybe you should take up embroidery. Unless you're too busy, with your... ?

[ Ray's been tightlipped about where he's been spending his time, and on what. Considering the man's mouth was a trap that couldn't be shut. Whatever he was working on must be special. Or embarrassing.

Either way, Leonard wants to know.]

Edited 2016-06-25 21:46 (UTC)

Project?

[ Ray finishes for him with a cheeky smile. The warehouse isn't livable yet, or at least not livable for Ray's standards. He's sure his teammates would make do, but he wants to do better and he wants it to be a surprise. ]

Should be done in a week. BTW, I can embroider.

[ He sits down obediently and looks up and Len, still smiling. ]

What do you call a snowman in the summer?

A puddle.

[ He cards his fingers through Ray's mop. He's got good hair. Straight and glossy, like something you'd see on the cover of a magazine. Not a strand of silver. Leonard had gone grey in his early thirties. His own hair was thick and wiry. It had reminded his father of his mother, and that was enough of a reason to keep it shaved. He'd never forgiven her for leaving.

Without further ado he plops the bowl onto Ray's head and holds it there with one hand, and before Ray can protest starts snipping. He's not actually cutting anything, but Ray will feel the shears grazing his scalp. ]

I would've gone soup, it's a bit more formal, but I think you can pull off salad.

[ Honestly, he should have realized. He doesn't move only because he knows Leonard actually has scissors in his hands and the last thing he needs is for this to end with a missing finger or ear. He does yelp, though, very offended. ]

Snart! Come on! I have childhood traumas!

[ This is a lie and he's half laughing despite himself, but the fear of Leonard pulling through with the bowl cut threat is real. ]

I'm sure you do.

[ Ray doesn't need to see Leonard's face to know he's rolling his eyes. He raps his knuckles against the bowl, tosses it onto the nearest surface with a clatter and grabs the comb. He gives Ray's hair a quick once-over before starting at the nape of his neck, cropping it short in a series of quick, layering snips.

He'd cut Lisa's hair until she was sixteen, and still cleans up her bangs on occasion. It bothers him when they're not perfectly even. ]

Really, Raymond. You think I'd give you a bowly? I have to be seen with you.

Edited 2016-06-26 01:37 (UTC)

[ His relief is palpable, there are things he knows Len won't do. He's pretty confident, for instance, that Len won't push past a firm no, or that he wouldn't set out to hurt him in any real way.

A haircut is not a firm no nor would cause him any real permanent pain, so it is in the gray area of unpredictability. Along with kissing and nudity. ]

I was kind of banking on the fact that you're particular about my looks, yeah.

[ It's not untrue, he was hoping Len would be nice about this because he likes Ray looking clean. But maybe low-key flirting is not something he should be doing, all things considered. ]

Us Rogues have an image to maintain.

[ He combs out a layer of hair, holds it between his fingers and slices off an inch of length. The shorn bits fall in small piles at his feet. At some point before the bowl he'd tossed a towel around Ray's shoulders so he didn't walk out with a hairy back.

If Leonard's quiet after that it's because he's busy. There's nothing random about the way he combs and then cuts, there's a method to everything he does. His eyes are sharp and his hands are quick. Leonard takes pride in his work. A job worth doing is worth doing right. He's as harsh a critic on himself as he is everyone else. Harsher. ]

Edited 2016-06-26 02:19 (UTC)

[ He almost asks if he's a Rogue now, but he already knows he is and he's way past needing that kind of reassurance.

Besides, he doesn't want to interrupt. Len's hands, coupled with the clipping are having a relaxing effect on him. He'll end up nodding off if he's not careful. ]

[ If Ray does nod off Leonard won't wake him, not until he's done. It goes by fast without Ray talking and fidgeting. He kicks Ray's chair when he's done. Then more gently dusts the hair off his face with a swipe of his fingers over tan cheeks and nose before handing him a mirror.

It's the same boyish crop Ray had worn the day they'd met. Somewhere between boy-scout and backstreet boy. Ray Palmer in a nutshell. ]

No refunds.

Edited 2016-06-26 02:58 (UTC)

[ Leonard is rewarded with a startled little jump when he kicks the chair, and then by a blush when he dusts him off. Apparently it's that kind of ridiculous crush.

He takes the mirror and looks at his reflection. ]

Thank you.

[ He rubs at his jaw a little before handing the mirror back. The short hair makes it even more obvious how much he needs to shave. ]

Put it on my tab?

[ His eyes widen. Narrow. Sometimes he can't tell if Ray is screwing with him. Whether it'd be better or worse if he was.

Ray owes Leonard nothing. Leonard owes him everything. It's impossible to keep a tab when you can't put a price on half of what Ray's done for him. For Mick. He was there for them like no one's ever been. They've never done allies in the past. Wouldn't and couldn't trust anyone. Sure, there was the team, but it wasn't the same. They were loyal to the same cause, not necessarily to one another. At the end of the day they'd all go their own ways and be back where they started. The good guys on one side of the tracks and the bad guys on the other.

Leonard had never thought Ray would stand with them.

He grazes his knuckles over Ray's stubbled cheek. The dark hair is coarse against his knuckles. ]

I ain't finished yet.

Edited 2016-06-26 03:39 (UTC)

[ Ray never feels like he's owed anything, he does things because it feels right and he wants to be the kind of man who does the right thing.

He's probably not doing the right thing at the moment, with Len touching him like it's a thing they do. Which it is, kind of. But not like this, or at least it hadn't felt like this before.

Ray's smart enough to know there's more at play here than Len wanting to make him squirm (which he's succeeding at, incidentally. His stomach is doing all kinds of flip-flops it hadn't done since he was a teenager.) But there's also a kind of challenge there, and maybe Leonard has some weird idea of retribution, doing things for him because Ray's helped them before.

And it's also a trust thing, obviously, because everything is a trust thing when it comes to Leonard Snart.

And maybe that whole line of thought is just a way to justify to himself why he's going to let Len do whatever it is he's planning to do when the bottom line is he wants to let him. ]

Okay. [ He is incredibly proud of himself when his voice comes out even and on the right octave. ] What are you missing? [ He can guess, but he talking is something to do. And it's not like putting distance between them has made his dumb crush any less active so maybe more contact is the solution. ]

The tools to fix this mess.

[ He gives Ray's cheek a rough pinch before sauntering off. The stuff for a hot shave is only as far as the bathroom. The same razor Ray had found, and that Mick had used to clean him up when he'd been growing a brillo pad on his neck. He's shaved Mick since then. It was just something they did, when they had the time. A small pleasure they couldn't trust to anyone else. There was only one man Leonard would trust to hold a razor to his throat.

Maybe two.

And maybe that's what this is about.

He fills a stainless steel bowl with hot water and dunks a rag into it. He wrings it out, and drapes it still steaming over Ray's face. It'll be too much at first, but his skin will adjust. The immediate burn will give way to a pleasant tingle as his pores open and the nerve endings adjust. That's when Leonard starts kneading his cheeks and jaw through the wet terrycloth, working his fingertips into tense muscle and stiff tendon.]

Mick likes it twice as hot. He's not happy until he can't feel his face.

Edited 2016-06-27 23:19 (UTC)

[ This a completely new experience for Ray. He stays seated, but turns to follow Len's movements curiously.

He recognizes the razor. Before Mick had asked for one Ray had associated them with old movies and Bugs Bunny cartoons. Now it made him think of them, the "Rogues" as Len had put it; it suited them in the same weirdly anachronistic way Old Westerns did. ]

I've never done this before.

[ He's never been shaved, straight razor or not. He's never shaved anyone either. It seems like an intimate thing to do (Bugs Bunny notwithstanding,) and he hasn't had this kind of intimacy with anyone— not even Anna. It just never came up somehow. He doesn't have the chance to elaborate on it, though, which is probably for the best; last time he'd vocalized feelings about his fiancee he'd ended up with a crush, Ray's not ready for whatever comes after that.

He doesn't have the foresight to expect the hot towel to be hot and he jerks in surprise at the sensation, his hands tightening on the armrests of his chair. But it does only last a moment, and once the initial shock wears off Len's fingers are kneading at him. It feels so good he has to choke back a moan.

There was a time not that long ago when his biggest concern was whether or not Leonard would tease him about nudes. That concerned seems ridiculous now that he's biting back sex noises caused by Leonard touching his face of all places. Honestly, this does not bode well for his dignity. ]

Sit still?

[ His fingers trace Ray's cheekbones to his temples, applying pressure with his thumbs. Leonard's no professional, but he is observant. He's almost as good at inflicting pleasure as he is pain, and meticulous in everything he does. ]

I'm the one doing all the work.

[ Next he's rubbing circles over Ray's forehead, loosening the knot between his brows. It's part relaxation, part exfoliation. He isn't just being nice. The cloth opens up the pores, lifts the stubble away from the skin and scrubs away dead cells and dirt. Makes for a better, closer shave and reduces the probability of cuts and ingrown hairs. ]

And I'm surprised there are billionaires who've never had a proper shave. Don't you hire people to wipe your asses for you?

Edited 2016-06-28 05:29 (UTC)

[ Ray is not surprised Leonard has skillful hands, just that the skill is being used on him. He closes his eyes and sits still as instructed, he won't moan but it's not like he's being subtle about how good this feels. ]

We usually pick one minor life skill and do it ourselves so we can feel independent. [ He lets out a small contented sigh. ] I haven't worn shoes with laces in months, can't tie them and I'm too embarrassed to ask for help.

[ He can't help gesturing with his hands as he speaks, but he keeps them on the armrests. He also opens his eyes to catch Len's reaction, but there's a towel on his face so that helps not at all. Good job, Ray. ]

Edited (prepositions are hell) 2016-06-28 06:05 (UTC)

Poor baby.

[ Ray won't be able to see Leonard smile, but he might just hear it in his voice.

He finishes off the massage with a quick scalp rub. Just enough to get the blood flowing. Then there's nothing but the sounds of Leonard preparing for the next step. The swish of brush bristles against steel. A sharp metallic ting as he unfolds the straight razor and tests the blade with the edge of his thumb. ]

Must be hard living on the top of the world.

[ Leonard's weight settles over Ray's thighs mid-purr, ass planted in Ray's lap with both knees on either sides of his hips. It really is the best seat in the house for this kind of job. He doesn't pull the towel off right away, simply folds it up to mask the upper half of Ray's face while he goes to work on the lower. The brush swirls soft and silky over his throat in slow figure eights, working up a creamy lather. ]

Does it get lonely up there?

Edited 2016-06-29 03:19 (UTC)

[ Ray knew ahead of time he was signing up for something. He just wasn't expecting this specifically. It's a trust game and a test and Leonard just plain messing with him for fun.

And he doesn't not like it, but blindfolds aren't something he's used to and he's sure the metal clinking is an attempt to psych him out. He licks his lips and immediately regrets it, feeling very self-conscious of everything his face is doing. He breathes in and feels awkward about that too. This is torture.

He's trying to figure out how long it's been... a couple of minutes at most, when he feels Len straddle him.

The squeak that escapes him is much more embarrassing than any of the other noises he's made during this adventure, but he tries to breeze past it by clearing his throat. He's a grown man and he can deal with this and Leonard asked him a question. ]

You tell me. Right now I'm down here.

[ His voice is a little rough, not scared but not calm either. He's trying to tease but honestly, Len has him straddled and blindfolded and will soon have a blade to his neck. Ray's definitely not the one up there. ]

Can't complain about the view.

[ Now wasn't that adorable. Just when Leonard thinks Ray couldn't be any more disgustingly endearing, Ray just has to go and prove him wrong. If he wasn't so unfortunately fond of the other man it'd be annoying.

Once Ray's neck is coated in what looks like whipped cream and smells like and old-school barber shop, there's no putting off what comes next. He switches out the brush for the razor and gently takes hold of Ray's hair, tipping back his head until his jaw is angled just right. ]

Business time. No sudden movements, or you'll be talking out of your jugular.

[ Ray will feel his thighs tense as prepares to take the first stroke, squeezing Ray's hips for extra stability.

The first scrape of the razor clears a path from the bottom of his chin to just below the curve of his adam's apple. The path of clean, fresh skin left in the blade's wake is glistening and smooth. He flicks the razor off into the bowl and carves a second path that grazes the edge of the first. ]

How's it feel?

Edited 2016-06-29 04:21 (UTC)

[ Ray could complain about the view, especially since Len seems to have decided to keep him blind for the time being, he's getting more tense by the second. The cream feels good, it all feels good. Even Len's weight on him is comfortable and that can only lead to bad choices.

The tug at his hair surprises him, but he doesn't fight it. He just swallows, making his adam's apple bob up and down. As if he needed to make his nervousness more obvious.

He nods at Len's warning and then stays mostly still, only letting himself move his fingers, which alternate between tapping and scratching restlessly at the armrest. Len's legs tightening around him do nothing to calm him down, but it does still him completely.

The blade on his skin feels good too. Gentle, a little cold, it makes him shiver. ]

Good. [ His voice still sounds wrong, he clears his throat and tries again. ] Feels good. [ The second try is better but not by much. ]

Don't worry, Raymond. I'll be gentle. It is your first time.

[A low chuckle as he glides the razor over Ray's adam's apple. In just a couple of minutes Ray's throat is clear of foam and bristle. He tugs the cloth away from over Ray's eyes and drags it over his neck, gently exfoliating and removing any lingering traces of cream.

It all looks good, but there's more to a good shave than meets the eye. He drags his fingertips down the length of Ray's neck experimentally. He hums, satisfied, and picks up the brush again to start lathering Ray's jaw.

Leonard's eyes are half-lidded in concentration, lips slightly parted as he works.]

We were around your age when we got into this.

Leonard Snart // Captain Cold - IC Inbox

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