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Mick knew what everyone thought of him. He knew that most people, even those he might consider friends, pretty much assumed he had nothing going on between the ears. And sure, maybe he wasn’t a genius like half the fucking people he seemed to run into nowadays, but his mind was a busy place. Too busy. His thoughts raced, screamed and burned him from the inside, driving him mad. He’d never known a moment’s peace in his life.
Until Len.
Captain Cold was known as a lot of things. He was ruthless, witty and had a ridiculous flair for the dramatic. He was loyal, beautiful and cruel. But no one, not even Heatwave, would describe him as particularly soothing or gentle.
So imagine Mick’s surprise when the first time the two came together, in a messy, dirty, glorious pile of lust, he felt his mind go completely quiet. As they lay side by side in the aftermath, sweaty and panting, his thoughts ground to a pure, blissful stop. If he were thinking, he may have been surprised at the way Len curled into his side, the way he pressed his lips gently against his chest and hummed in contentment. But by the time Mick came back to himself, Len was already sitting up and starting to pull on his clothes, trademark aloof smirk back in place.
“Come on, Mick. Much as I’d love to hang around on the floor of a warehouse, we’ve got a job to finish.”
As he watched him slip effortlessly back into his Cold persona, Mick realized he would follow this man to the end of time.
Christ, he was fucked.
Ten years later, in a ship that might actually take them to the end of time, Mick was still in awe of the effect his partner had on him. The two men lay together in one small bunk, Len cuddled up tight against him; maybe holding a little tighter than usual after seeing Savage press a gun to his partner’s head. Mick had eventually caught on that he wasn’t the only one in their relationship feeling something deeper than lust. It had only taken a few years of fucking, fighting, and having each other’s backs. The marriage license obtained at gunpoint didn’t hurt either.
“Mick.”
“Hmm.”
“Mick.” Cold repeated.
Heatwave shifted so he meet the others’ eyes. Even though he treasured the blissful silence that filled his mind in these moments, he cared more about whatever was plaguing the thoughts of his partner. And after so many years, he could read Len without words. He moved down so that they were face to face and rested their foreheads together.
“C’mon Cold, don’t go soft on me now.” he tried to joke, but the sharp look Len gave him told him it wasn’t working. He changed tact, stroking his hand down his back comfortingly and continuing in a softer voice, “Len, babe. I’m fine. Barely a scratch; you know I’ve had way worse. Hell, we’ve done worse to each other.”
Len squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head slightly. “Stop. It’s different.” He looked back at Mick, eyes burning with sudden anger. “An immortal psychopath had you by the neck and I was stuck in a fucking cage, do you even know--”.
He was cut off, as Mick had pulled him into a bruising kiss. They kissed fiercely for a few minutes, and they were both breathing heavy when they finally parted.
“I know. Fuck, Len, I know I don’t say much; neither of us even say but.” He didn’t have to continue; they understood each other. They always did.
They settled down together again, and as always when he was with his partner, his husband, Mick’s mind quieted down. But before he let himself drift off to sleep, he said one more thing.
“I’m going to enjoy seeing you tear that bastard to pieces, Lenny.”
Even with his eyes closed, he knew his partner was smirking. “Oh husband of mine, it will be my absolute pleasure.”