Archive of Our Own ^beta

Mick’s approach to the holidays has always been straightforward: fire. Hot chocolate. An excuse to be…if not exactly snuggly, at least peaceful with Len, and get fire at the same time. Also, food, and lots of it—though this is one of the few times of year Len tries to cook, and even more shockingly, he can usually manage it.

Gifts have never really been a factor, though, until this year. What’s changed? Red, who flashed into their lives right about New Year’s last year and hasn’t left. (“Made a resolution to get to know my Rogues,” Barry had said when he found them at Saints that evening. It was the only smooth thing he’d said that whole night.) Something about Barry just makes Mick want to spoil him, and from talking with Len, the feeling is mutual. It’s a departure from their usual tradition, but that’s all right.

“So what exactly do you two do for the holidays?” Barry glances around their not-very-decorated living room. He looks…not sad, exactly. Just confused. Mick has to remind himself that the kid can’t absorb the years’ worth of history between him and Len just by osmosis—they have to tell him.

“Candles. Food. Playing for pennies and bragging rights.”

Len looks up from where he’s sprawled on the floor, looking like a contented cat. “What Mick’s saying is, he doesn’t really give a shit about Christmas, so he’s latched wholeheartedly onto my subdued Hanukkah traditions and made them into a big thing.” He rolls over onto his belly, props his chin on his hands, and stares up at Barry. Mick’s not gonna tell him he looks like a lovesick kid when he does that. He suspects Len already knows. “Gonna guess that'll be all new to you?”

Barry tucks his legs up to his chest. He looks cute, all curled in the armchair like a kid. It makes Mick want to cuddle him. "Pretty much,” he admits. "We'd sometimes go to celebrate Hanukkah with my dad's parents, but only when I was very small, so I've forgotten most of it."

“You’re cute,” Len drawls. He pushes himself upright and sits with one knee tucked to his chest. “Also, we won’t keep you from Christmas with your family, but we’re not coming. I think Detective West would have a heart attack if you brought two criminals to his home for family dinner.”

Barry grimaces. “Yeah, that might be for the best. Family Christmas gets bigger every year, with the team always growing, but…yeah, I don’t think any of them would be too comfortable with the two of you. Though Cisco’s probably bringing Lisa,” he adds on afterthought.

Mick snorts. “Huh. I’d have thought she’d have chewed him up and spit him out by now.” It’s Lisa’s way. She’s too used to assholes—being a complicated bitch, for want of a better phrase, tends to drive away anyone who’s just with her for selfish reasons. He figured it’d break a heart as vulnerable as Cisco’s. Should have known better. The kid is persistent. He might even get through to her, if he hasn’t already.

Barry shakes his head. “They’re still going strong, but she’s got more sympathy with the team than the two of you do—sorry.” He gets this pitiful little twist to his mouth like he actually is sorry. Their sweet-hearted little Red.

“Don’t be.” Mick gets to his feet in a hurry, just so he can kiss that sorrowful little pout away. “Got everything we need right here. Speaking of which.” He glances down at Len, who can do the explaining better than he can.

“Ah yes, speaking of which.” Len props his chin on his kneecap. “Mick and I have never exactly been gift-givers, for a whole list of reasons. One of the top ones is that we tend to just, y’know. Take what we want for ourselves.” He gets kind of an odd expression that Mick knows by now. He gets weird about thieving at holidays. Mick’s never asked why; not his place. He just goes with it. “So, not much reason to give gifts. But, now that we have a cute little scarlet speedster to spoil…”

Barry lets out a startled little “Eep!” that might be one of the cutest sounds Mick’s ever heard out of him. “You’re, what, rethinking your entire approach to gifts just because of me?” he clarifies. His cheeks are about the same red as his suit.

Len lays his hand over his heart. “On my honor, none of them will be stolen…which is more than I can say for the few gifts Mick and I have exchanged in the past.”

Mick’s fingers go to the black steel ring he wears on a chain around his neck. (Not safe on his hand—too close to his heat gun, the metal heats up too fast. Len had to scold him about it the first time he tried to wear the ring on a heist.) That’d been one of the rare gifts he ever got from Len, once he explained asexuality to him. It’d been stolen, he gathered, but that just added to the appeal. “Don’t gotta get us much in return, Red,” he adds. “We’re easy.”

Barry sets his jaw. Mick knows that look. He’s taking that as a challenge. “I’ll find something,” he promises.

Because Len has to be a bastard even as he’s trying to spoil Barry, he says they’ll wait until the final night to exchange gifts. Mick expects this to be met with some level of complaining from Barry. There’s none. Instead, Barry watches them raptly, as though he’s getting a window into their history from the easy way they do things. He doesn’t try to insert himself anywhere, which is cute. It’s like he wants them to invite him in.

“Red, come here.” Mick beckons Barry over and wraps him up tight in a hug. He presses his lips close to Barry’s ear and whispers excitedly, “We get fire now.”

Barry squeezes him. “No wonder you’re so happy—so much time to enjoy us and fire.” He sounds ecstatic, like he's feeding off Mick’s joy. Cute little doll, so easily excited by their happiness.

Len sets up the first candle and lights the…helper, Mick forgets the word for it. Mick’s focus on anything else fades away to background noise. The fire is beautiful. It dances and shudders as Len lights the other candle from the helper. Mick wants to lunge forward and protect it—cute little flame, so easy to extinguish—but Len is careful, of course. It keeps blazing bright.

“It’s wonderful,” Barry murmurs. He leans his head back against Mick’s shoulder as he watches the little dancing flames. With his speedster warmth so close, Mick even feels like he’s in front of a nice cozy fire.

Len comes over to cuddle both of them. Mick thinks he says something to Barry, but he’s too focused on the fire to care about the details. They’ll catch him up if it’s important.

They snuggle until the candles burn down. Mick tries his hardest not to pout—he gets another whole week of beautiful fires to enjoy with his guys. Perhaps sensing that Mick is on the verge of a post-fire drop, Barry leaps to his feet and suggests, “I can—hot cocoa?”

“That sounds perfect, Scarlet.” Len reaches up to stroke Barry’s cheek. Mick is in awe of how tender his partner is to their Red. He brings out the best in both of them, without even meaning to.

As Barry hurries into the kitchen, Len snuggles closer to Mick. He’s warm and relaxed, with that cute contemplative expression he only gets on holidays. “You know you’re beautiful when you watch fire,” he murmurs. “It makes me so happy to share this with you—to see you getting the same peace from it that I do.”

“Different reasons,” Mick reminds him. He’s got no connection to the story behind the candles. He just likes the fire.

“Well, sure,” Len concedes. “But it’s still time we get to enjoy together.”

Barry brings the cocoa back over at a normal pace. Mick is faced with a problem. He likes to use both hands on the mug—it keeps them equally warm and makes sure he doesn’t slosh any if his grip isn’t great. Right now, though, one arm’s around Len…and come to think of it, the other arm would fit just right around Barry’s waist…

“Take your mug,” Len coaxes. To Mick’s dismay, he squirms away from him. “It’s hard to cuddle and drink cocoa.” When Mick starts pouting again, he sighs, “We’ll have plenty of time later, I promise.”

“He’s right.” Barry perches on Mick’s other side, one leg tucked up under him. “We can snuggle all night, too.”

Mick takes his cocoa and mutters, “I’ll hold you to that.” (And he does.)

Their next couple of nights go about like that. Mick gets lost in the fire, but it’s okay; he has his guys snuggled right beside him, ready to bring him back as the candles burn down. They cuddle peacefully afterward. More than once, snuggling ends with Mick carrying their sleepy speedster to bed. He’s not gonna complain.

Days are a little more exciting. Mick gets roped into a snowball fight because he can’t say no to a cute speedster and a mischievous, cold-loving partner. They have such fun that he can't even be angry about the cold. They warm up afterward with cocoa by the fire and a game of dreidel that lasts until dinnertime. (The fact that the two of them take pride in sabotaging each other might have something to do with that. Barry gets more wrapped up in their antics than the actual game.)

In the meantime, Mick and Len conspire about Barry’s gifts. They’re pretty much of a mind about what their cute little Red will like. Mick gets awfully eager for the appointed gift-exchange time—but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t enjoy all the time he gets to spend with his partners.

On the eighth day, Mick gets so lost in all the little fires that he completely forgets about Barry’s gifts. To his surprise, Barry doesn’t ask about them, either. Len is the one who has to prompt them both after the candles burn down. “Barry, love, will you let us spoil you now, just for a bit?”

Barry’s eyes light up. “Right, gifts!” Before either of them can say anything, he races off and returns with a small pile of packages. Mick’s eyes widen. He hadn’t expected their little Red to get them so much in return. He should have, though—Barry cares so much about reciprocity. “And…the two of you spoil me all the time,” the kid adds, looking up at them bashfully from under his lashes.

“You wanna kneel for us?” Mick asks. He glances sideways at Len and checks, “That’s allowed, right?”

Len raises his eyebrows. “You think I’m going to tell you not to kink on a holiday?” When Mick just shrugs, Len laughs. “If I was, it wouldn’t be tonight. You can have our Scarlet kneel.”

Without any further prompting, Barry drops to his knees. Mick sits down right near him and pets his head. “Our good Red,” he praises. “Look at you. So happy and patient.”

He reaches for one of the soft packages on the top of the pile. “Here you go, Red. First one.”

Barry tears it open and lets out a happy coo. “Oh, they’re so soft!” He holds up both of the sweaters inside—one navy, one a pretty shell-pink—and rubs them against his face. “I could nest in these and be happy forever!”

This time, Len is the one to reach for a package. Before he can hand it to Barry, their sweet Red thrusts packages at them. “For you!”

Mick takes his, chuckling affectionately. Their sweetheart is so into reciprocity—and he knows them so well. He’s bought Mick a new set of sturdy nonstick pans. They're even big enough to cook speedster-sized meals. (Mick's current ones aren't.) Len gets new leather gloves that he holds out thoughtfully.

“Well, they’ll take breaking in, but they’re nice,” he praises. “I love them, Scarlet.”

Barry is blushy and happy from the praise as he opens the rest of his gifts. They bought him a massive box of chocolates that he’ll go through in no time, a new pair of shoes that he’ll burn through as fast as the others, and a nice new cherry-red collar. Barry turns about as red as the leather when he sees it.

“Look at the tag,” Len urges.

Barry holds up the collar to get a better look at the heart-shaped tag. Mick can’t see it from here, but he knows it says ‘Our Good Boy.’ They couldn’t think of anything better to put on it, and it’s reassurance that Barry so desperately needs.

Barry claps his hand to his mouth. When he looks up at them, there are tears in his eyes. “I got you boring gifts,” he whispers.

“No, you didn’t.” Len runs his fingers tenderly through Barry’s hair. He looks utterly besotted. (Mick's not gonna tell him that.) “You bought us things we’ll use, exactly what we wanted. We just knew you’d love something sentimental like this, sweetheart.”

Barry launches himself up at them and wraps them both in his arms. “I love you both,” he says. “I love how much you take care of me.”

“Love you too, Red.” Mick wraps one arm around Barry and the other around Len. He rocks them back and forth, mostly without thinking about it. “You make us both so happy.”

“Speaking of making us happy.” Len’s got a wicked lilt to his voice. Mick can guess what he’s gonna say before he says it. “I don’t remember telling you to get off your knees. Are you angling for a spanking to end a wonderful night, Scarlet?”

Mick feels Barry’s mischievous grin more than he sees it. “Well, I wasn’t before, but now I might be,” the kid singsongs happily.

As they tumble off to the bedroom, leaving wrapping paper strewn around the couch, Mick wonders how he thought this night would end any different. He wouldn't change this playful, peaceful ending for anything.