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Team ColdFlash sat in the break room, debating on what they were going to watch for movie night this week (a bonding exercise that had eventually turned into a tradition).
“Oh Hell no! I don’t care about whatever weird ice fetishes you have, Cold! I am not watching Frozen!” Cisco shouted, jabbing a finger in Len’s direction.
Len rolled his eyes. “Cisco, I think you need to chill.”
The team couldn’t help cracking a few smiles at Len’s ability to throw puns with such a straight face.
Cisco groaned. “Please! Stop with the puns!” He turned to Barry with a pleading look. “Barry, help me!”
Barry just chuckled. He was sitting next to Len on the couch, Len’s arm draped protectively over his shoulders. “I believe that’s impossible Cisco.”
Len smirked. “He loves me too much to deny my cool puns.”
Barry snorted while Mick just grumbled an incoherent phrase, most likely about his friend’s annoying play on words.
Cisco glared at Barry, crossing his arms over his chest. “Traitor.”
Lisa took a sip of her hot chocolate, peering up at Cisco who was standing in the center of the group. “You did kind of ask for it, Hon.”
Cisco frowned, clearly feeling betrayed. “Why is everyone ganging up on me?!”
Hartley snorted, “Maybe because you’re not giving us any options?”
Cisco was about to shout at Hartley when Lisa beat him to it.
“Hartley! Shut your damn mouth!” Lisa’s sudden outburst made the Meta shrink back in fear. Everyone knew to be extra cautious whenever she snapped; there wasn’t anything exciting about being blasted with her gold gun.
With Hartley now quiet Lisa turned to her brother. “Lenny, we are not watching Frozen,” she said before suddenly stared down at Mark. “And that includes you Mardon!”
Len shook with laughter at the sight of Mark’s bewildered face. The poor man had no idea what the hell was going on.
Mark flipped around, glaring daggers at Len. Shawna tried to keep a straight face as she patted her boyfriend on the back. “Sorry babe, but I don’t think the worlds ready for another Elsa.”
Mark let out an exaggerated groan, pulling his legs up to his chest and burying his face against his knees. “Why do I even bother with you fuckers?” He muttered.
Mick took a shot of his beer, the smallest hint of a smirk on his lips. “I feel you, princess.”