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We need to talk.

[A simple - and clichéd - statement, spoken as Leonard leans back against the door frame of the open kitchen door. Nobody else is around, he's made sure of that much, which is tricky enough in their current living situation. But now he can look at Mick in the kitchen, lifting one leg to prop his boot against the wood of the frame, which does lift the skirt he's wearing above his jeans a little.

It's not actually a provocative outfit, just good for hiding his gun and more. Also, it looks good.]

Now.

[ Mick puts down the bowl of dog food he was getting ready for Matches, straightening and wiping his hands off on his pants. His puppy eagerly consumes her food, completely oblivious to the tone.

He is had some time to cool off (heh) since the other day, and regretting what went down a bit. But the words "we need to talk" almost never lead to something good.

It takes him a moment to notice the skirt. Should he ask? You know what, no. He is done trying to understand Leonard Snart. Somehow he's making it work, anyway. Mick doesn't understand how that man is constantly, effortlessly good-looking. ]

Alright. Let's talk.

[It's because he's a male model in the wrong career. He should be in Mariah Carey videos.

Now that Mick has agreed to talking, he realises that means he actually has to say something. There is so much in his mind that he doesn't want to admit to.]

I'm not good with...

[Touching. Feeling. People.

Really quite a lot of things, come to think of it. In the end he just gestures vaguely with one hand, the other resting against his thigh.]

Dealing with you means dealing with a lot I'm not good at.

[ Cold admitting he's not good at something? Mick was bracing himself for something but Len hit him with what he was least expecting: emotional sincerity. Even if he was being vague about it.

Mick leans against the counter with his palms and sighs a little. ]

Can't really blame you, I don't think I've been easy to deal with.

[Just a non-committal shrug in response to that, because what is he supposed to say. No, he hasn't been easy to deal with, but he can't really blame Mick for that and he doesn't. Not really.]

I've never cared about someone that doesn't know me.

[Leaning his head back he touches his thumb to his little finger.]

Now there's you.

[ Mick's heart is beating like a rabbit, but this is fine. He can do this. At least Len caring about him wasn't a revelation by now, even if it still made his stomach do a backflip hearing it aloud. ]

We're not exactly strangers.

[ He doesn't say it like he's pointing out something, he says it like there's going to be a "but". Which there is, after a moment of trying to find the words. ]

But I'm not him.

[ He wants to say something else, say that he's never cared about a guy like this before but it sounds so dumb. And the moment he thinks it, he knows it's true. He's been thinking about it since that night. Maybe even longer than that.

He should just hear Len out first. Let the guy say what he needs to say. ]

I'm not in danger of confusing you two.

[Not any more, at least. Not that he ever really has, but of course there has been something. Small reminders that there was something in common. Very often painful reminders. But then, any memory can turn painful. Most of his have always been.]

I've been thinking about you.

[He adjusts his jacket a little with one hand, because that is something to do at least.]

And us.

[ Us.

He watches Len, unsure if this is confidence or nervousness. While he's started to read him better, he still had trouble.

Regardless, now it's on the table. Or rather, it was always on the table but now it's on the table with a little neon arrows pointing to it.

Mick's face might be looking a bit more pink. He scratches a temple, looking down and watching Matches roll around on the floor. ]

Think you've made your feelings about that pretty clear.

[ He glances back up at Len. ]

You want there to be an "us".

Ideally.

[Maybe sounding almost sarcastic isn't the way to go here, but he doesn't like this. He doesn't like talking about feelings, anything touchy-feelie isn't really his thing. This has taken him far from his comfort scene already and the instinct is to close off.

But he can't really do that, so here he goes.

He pushes away from the door to move into the kitchen, careful to avoid stepping on the dog. Standing in front of Mick, he gives him time. Catching his eyes, waiting. Mick is obviously physically stronger than him, but it's not just about that. He doesn't want to press an advantage. Still, he finally kisses him, his eyes closing. There is no confusion here, no mistaking him for anyone else.

The only thing familiar is the heat coming from him and for now, Len doesn't mind. He ends the kiss, but doesn't pull away. Not yet.]

Think about it too, yeah?

[ Len approaches him and Mick doesn't move away, doesn't push him away, doesn't tell him stop. He's been with people before, he's kissed people before but this feels new, feels different. He's nervous in a way he hasn't been in a long time, uncertain but not against it. And he knows what's coming and all his stomach can do is twist while his heart pounds.

And then Len's kissing him and oh. The little fire flickering in him bursts into a flame.

Hell. ]

I --

[ He clears his throat, oddly raspy.

He'd been thinking about it anyway, he was thinking about asking -- but now on the spot with Len inches away it comes out in a rush: ]

I was gonna ask if you wanted to see a movie sometime. With me.

Edited 2016-10-01 01:58 (UTC)

[This marks the first time in his life that he's been asked out on a date.

At least seriously. There had been joking offers in prison, he's sure. But this? This is earnest, this is clumsy, this is Mick. This Mick.

He lowers his head with a smile, leaning his forehead against Mick's shoulder for just a few moments, almost as if incidental. Then he steps back and responds, mimicking his sentence structure.]

I'd love to see a movie sometime. With you.

[He leaves it at that, because, frankly? This is all a lot and, as he's said, he is not good at this. So Leonard turns and leaves the kitchen. But there is still that smile on his face.]

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