I'll buy him a drink to tell him I'm sorry.

( she cooperates as much as she needs to for him to be able to get her shirt over her head, lifting her shoulders so he can properly tug it off — and kiss her, of course. exactly what she'd come here for.

sara's content to smile wryly up at him, practically lounging beneath him in her bra and jeans, simply wanting him to enjoy his view. )

But I came here to see Captain Cold, not the Flash. ( still teasing. his code name is a little silly, but then again, so is hers. )

You do that. [Len's amused by it all, but he doesn't really care where Barry is right now, either. He figures he can't get into that much trouble, unless he pisses Mick or Lisa off outright. And if he's dumb enough to do that, he deserves what he gets.

Anyway, he's far more interested in the view she's giving him, and he does take a moment to let his cool blue eyes travel outrageously over her curves as he tosses her shirt aside.]

Well, I should hope so. If you came here to see him, I'd have to ask what he gave you.

[He leans forward and slips his arms around her, to unhook her bra with nimble fingers.]

( his stare is palpable as it travels over her cleavage, her abs, and it's satisfying as all hell. what can she say? she occasionally likes being admired, shallow as it may be. )

He's pretty cute, ( sara starts, trying to push his buttons a little for her own amusement. ) But the kid seems a little too green. And apparently —

( she pauses so she can lean closer to him, let him unhook her bra and pull it off her arms before laying back against the pillows, continuing her small talk regardless of the fact that her nipples pebble in the cool air once her top half is bare. ) I'm into criminals these days. Crooks, even.

[He laughs] He is cute, and green as hell, but that could be a good thing. [He's not above pushing her buttons right back.

He shifts back, hands sliding down her chest and stomach to the waistband of her jeans. He starts to undo them, still watching her avidly. There's a glint of covetous interest in his eyes, but he isn't actually jealous. Not yet, anyway.]

"Crooks", plural? Who else are you into?

( sara decides that she'll just have to form an opinion on barry allen firsthand, but that's going to have to wait because for now, she has to spend some energy pretending that her stomach doesn't practically do backflips when his hands graze the length of her torso and start to undo her jeans.

but the question makes her raise an eyebrow, unable to discern how serious he's being, and quickly attempts to diffuse it with a smile that's way too calm and innocent and a short: ) Wouldn't you like to know?

Not really. [He leans over and kisses her belly button, then starts tugging her pants down over her hips. Who and what you do's none of my business.

He leans up and gives her a mischievous smirk.] Outside of this room, anyway.

Can't say I'm thinking about anyone outside of this room right about now, ( she replies through an airy little laugh at the feeling of his lips against her stomach. feeling the need to be helpful, she kicks off her boots and lets them clatter to the floor, socks following suit. she'll even go as far as lifting her hips up to help him tug her jeans over her hips before settling back down, contentedly lounging beneath him all over again. )

Better get that knife off first. ( but she'll let him do that, tilting her head to simply watch him. )

But I like how you look in it. [But she's right, and he drops to one knee to unbuckle the sheath and set the knife aside. That allowed him to pull her jeans and underwear off, and then he straightened, still completely fully clothed as he looked over Sara's nude body]

Still gorgeous.

( in all honesty, sara really likes how she looks in it — or, at least, how it looks on her — too, which is why she'd put it on in the first place. sure, the rogues gallery might be in a sketchier part of the city, but sara sure as hell didn't think that she'd need it. she'd just wanted to show off a little. )

Flatterer.

( which is something else that she's perfectly fine with, smiling a catlike smile up at him. )

And you love it.

[Len slides a knee onto the bed between her legs and drops onto his hands and knees over her on the bed. He bends to kiss her on the lips softly, hungrily]

( there's a small moan against his lips as his thigh presses between her legs, her legs parting just a bit wider for him in return. he really is good at this, sara thinks as she kisses him, fingers of her free hand ghosting through his short hair as though it might offer more stability for her; his hands run all over her body, leave her occasionally squirming needily depending on where he touches — her breasts, her collarbone, down along the carved v of her hip bones.

she murmurs against the corner of his mouth, short and to the point, ) What's on your mind, Leonard?

[He grins against her lips and pulls back, hands coming to rest at her hips. His grin turns wicked, eyes bright with mischief] I want to give you something else, now.

I'd say you're doing a pretty good job so far, ( she replies as her head lays back to hit the pillow, trying to sound all nonchalant despite the bubbly, almost lightheaded feeling that kissing him, him touching her, gives to her. ) But go on, I'm listening.

[He grins and bends down. He brings his lips to her ear and nibbles just a bit, before whispering seductively]

I'm talking about my dick.

( god, for someone so allegedly cold, len can be so hot, stripping her naked and teeth grazing against her earlobe and whispering in that low, sexy voice of his and then —

and then. )

You're talking about your dick.

( deadpanned. straight-faced. dead-eyed. and then ...

laughter. if there was any doubt in her mind before, she's fairly confident that leonard snart is the textbook definition of the worst. )

[He pushes up, grinning like an asshole, as she laughs. His hands move up her sides again, and cup the undersides of her breasts, making circles with his thumbs]

What?

( there's a halfhearted little groan at the brush of his thumbs, because it feels so good but she's still trying to decide whether or not she'll ever be able to take him seriously ever again. )

That's the cheesiest shit anyone's ever said to me, and I've heard some cheesy shit.

Did you expect any less from me? [Really, this is Leonard Snart, Robber of ATMs we're talking about. He bends to nibble at her earlobe again, determined to distract her from the way he'd totally ruined the mood] If you don't want humour, you can always go see if Rip's interested. If he were here.

Ha ha, very funny. ( said with an exaggerated mock pout, eyes fluttering shut as his teeth tug at her earlobe, fingertips running through his hair down to his neck. he does have a point, though — maybe she should expect this level of absurdity from him. )

Our Captain isn't quite what I'm looking for.

( a beat. )

Neither is his dick.

( humor? sure, humor. she's trying. )

[He snickers. No, she'd rather have this Captain, but maybe he'll just leave that unsaid and not get too corny so soon after the last one. He hums with pleasure instead and rewards her with a kiss]

Good, because I'm not sure I could take it if you preferred him over me.

Oh, yeah? I dunno if I took you for the jealous type, Leonard.

( it's said with a wry smile, still teasing, as she tips her head up for a short peck on the lips before she drops her head back against the pillow again, fingers grazing idly against the back of his neck. )

I'm told I can be possessive - but I'm not jealous. Still, Rip is such a fucking tool. [He laughs and bends to latch onto a nipple, flicking it with his tongue and stimulating it

You don't — oh, shit, ( she moans under her breath; whoa, yep, len's mouth sure is distracting — ) You don't even know the half of it.

( it's not something that she wants to discuss, let alone even think about — but luckily for her, she's got a pretty great distraction between her thighs who seems intent on doing just that. )