Captive - for @icejacking

[bringstheheat]

His name was Mick.

He could remember that much. A warm voice crooning to him while he was still in his shell, telling him his name and his birthright. Fire. Beautiful, changing, defining flame. They were the memories that sustained him during his capture and eventual enslavement. A half-breed was rare enough that he fetched a pretty high price on the wizarding black market and Mick despised every one of his owners.

Druse had been the worst. Denying him fire, denying him his born power. He’d tried to mold him into the perfect assassin and for the sake of only brief freedoms, Mick had played along. Choosing to answer to Chronos and assassinate anyone who got in his way. It wasn’t the best life but it gave him the freedom to fly once in a long while and Mick relished those times almost as much as when he would secretly summon fire. Kept locked away in a tower when he wasn’t needed, he could hold the fire in his hand and watch it for hours. Raw and beautiful and it was Mick’s first and only love.

Then a deal had been brokered and Mick found himself with a new owner. Whatever. New name, same demands. He knew the score by now.

What he didn’t expect was for the wizard in question to have a Tiefling for a son. And Leonard Snart was intriguing. He looked at Mick carefully, like he was a complex puzzle that required solving. A year into his tenure and they had become friends, or at least as close to friends as Mick had ever had in his life. Len never called him Chronos. He simply shrugged and asked for something to call him by and without hesitating, Mick gave him his true name. Snart was quick, intelligent and a hell of a lot better at magic than his idiot father. They’d work together on jobs, always reporting back and if Lenny started to hold back some of what they had stolen, Mick never commented on it. He might never be free, but he’d make sure Len and his sister could start their own lives.

Comments

[icejacking]

Len had been cursed thanks to his fathers greed and desire for power. He grew up alone, feared, ridiculed and ostracized for what he was. He learned quickly how to build a thick skin, how to take a beating and dish one out. He learned how to move through shadows and conjure magic, though he dare not let his father see him. He'd been caught once playing around with spells and ended up locked away like a prisoner for over a week.

He didn't go out much unless his father demanded it. He kept to himself and looked after his little sister, who was born a human, as he had been meant to. With their mother gone and their father scarce, Len had to raise her and take care of her on his own. He protected her from their Father's wrath when the man would come home unsatisfied with his pursuits. Nothing was ever enough and Len became the whipping boy for most of his life.

Until Mick was brought in for extra muscle. Len had never seen anyone that looked even remotely similar to how he does. Humans, Orcs, Elves, Halflings and Dwarves, but no others with horns, a tail and glowing eyes or claws like him. He knew he was more infernal than dragon, but to see someone else like him was fascinating. Maybe that's what drew him to Mick so easily, how they bonded without much more than a few words between them.

Len didn't fit in anywhere. His home wasn't his home. Even though he'd never met another Tiefling, he was an oddball even to his own kind. His skin was more of a blue tone than red and he preferred the cold to heat. He even specialized in ice spells when he could dabble in magic. His roguish nature was really the only stereotype he seemed to follow.

But even with Mick around Lewis didn't spare the rod any less. Even if his new half-dragon pet wasn't free of his ire, Len still remained a shield and something to take out his frustration on.

The half-dragon was sent along with Len to keep an eye on him, so he wouldn't stray or run, so he'd get the job done and return home successful. One too many times he'd gone out on his own and not returned for days, only to come back empty handed simply because he didn't care anymore. There were plenty of times he needed the back up, out-numbered or out-gunned and he couldn't run the risk of being caught. So the muscle was necessary, not only to keep him in line, but to keep him alive.

Enough was enough. Len couldn't stand to remain under his father's rule anymore and he sure as hell wasn't leaving the others to suffer his wrath. So he'd pocketed the keys with a deft hand and slipped out to the dank hole he kept Mick locked up in. He released him, motioning in the dark for the other to follow, silver-blue eyes glowing lightly and shifting around his surroundings. He'd snuck his sister off to safety separating her from their escape to keep their father off her trail. He'd sooner chase down his bastard son and the expensive pet he'd lost anyway.

"Stay low." He whispers, "And quiet." Sneaking out of the grounds wouldn't be easy, he knows his father sets up perimeter spells to set off alarms if they escape. The man had been paranoid and more controlling in his old age. Len would have to find the runes and disable the spells as they went, which ran the risk of setting them off if he failed to dispell it correctly.

[bringstheheat]

Len was a good kid. Screwed by his father's curse but he never let it define him. Mick liked him as much as he liked anyone. He'd seen him step between his bastard of a father and his sister enough times that when the rod was raised to Len, Mick started stepping in.

He'd known that the kid was planning something, knew that just by watching the way that Snart's fingertips would twitch, the way he'd rub fingertips against his thumb while he talked. Fine. He wasn't going to out him - better he and Lisa get away clean.

What he didn't expect was a set of keys ever so gently sliding into the locks, magical wards disbanded. It was like he remembered how to breathe all over again. Mick did as directed, saying nothing and mantling his wings close to his back to keep as low as possible.

Pausing at the corner, he wraps a clawed hand around his wrist. "Collar," he rumbles softly. "Get it off." It was heavy and silver, inscribed with runes to keep him bound to the property and to his owner. The collar kept his flame at bay, kept him under control. "Can fight better."

[icejacking]

Len very nearly bulks at the touch, not used to anyone laying a hand on him but his father, and not in as gentle a fashion as this. He's somewhat startled, distracted by the thought as he glances at the hand around his wrist. It's large and warm and despite the clawed grip, it's light and careful. It's surprising to say the least, but he manages to shake himself of it, long tail flicking with slight agitation. It's a knee-jerk response to being touched, or caught off-guard.

He'll quietly focus his attention to the collar though, a flick of deft fingers and a mutter in magical tongue and the spell fades. He then pulls out his lock-picking tools to get the heavy thing off of the half-dragon's throat, tossing it to the ground. An uttered word and he'll expel cold, white-blue energy from his fingertips to freeze the thing solid. He slams his heel into it to shatter the collar completely before nodding his head towards their escape.

"Lets go." Just like that he turns on his heel and slips off through the dark, almost slithering through the element as if he was born for it.

[bringstheheat]

He's going to have to be careful with touch, which will no doubt continue to be an issue if they stick together. Dragons are tactile creatures, but he can keep a lid on his instincts. It's kept him alive this long after all.

A relieved rumble as his hand rubs at the scars around his neck and his eyes blaze brightly in the dark. Fire. It lights up his veins and for the first time in his entire existence he can call it at his command rather than that of his owner's.

Part of him wants revenge, wants to burn the house down and slaughter everything moving. Take out years of frustration and rage.

Mick rubs a hand down a thickly scaled arm before shoving the desire aside. He'll follow the younger Snart where he leads. While he's not quite as sure in the dark, Mick can track him, follow him beyond the walls and out the other side.

Free. They were free.

[icejacking]

Len is fast and he has to catch himself on occasion to make sure to slow down and wait, keeping an eye on the half-dragon behind him. He breaks wards and keeps moving, knowing damn well at some point something has to tip his father off. They won't rest until they're well past the walls of the secluded home. A place his father never earned. He'd killed the people-- the family, Len had watched him, had been forced to help him break in-- and then they moved in like it was theirs fair and square. He never could shake knowing the bodies were buried in the yard. His sister had been too young to remember it as she danced over their graves in blissful ignorance.

The man was twisted and Len had every intention of stopping him, he wanted his revenge just as well, but they wouldn't return without a plan. If they attacked now they'd be caught. They could work it out later, right now what was important was their freedom.

So even when they were on the other side he didn't stop. He motioned for Mick to keep running with him. There was a kart and a horse waiting for them down the lane, filled with hay and high walls so that Mick could hide himself if anyone stopped them. Len hopped on the front to click his tongue and casting a spell low on his breath to make the wagon lighter and his horse more fleet-footed so they could escape faster than anyone could keep up.

They rode through the night and well into morning, Len was dozing and his spell wore off. The horse was tired and no doubt Mick was too. But they eventually arrive at a little place, tucked off the cove and into the woods out of sight. He'd found it some time ago, abandoned, broken down. He'd hid here, fixed it up till it wasn't looking as if it'd cave in on itself. It needed more work, but they had time.

His sister was in another city by now, taken in by some trusted friends, a family that would look after her. A family that had always wanted a child but never could have one. Len had met them when he'd run away, they'd taken him in, sought to his wounds and fed him, gave him a bed and a roof to sleep under for a few days. He'd left as soon as he was able, unable to apologize for fear his Father might find him and them, and kill them for helping him. It wasn't till years later that he'd sought them out and they kept in touch since. He knew his sister was in good hands. He'd convinced them to pack up and move, told them what happened, about their father and why he left that day. They understood and they left with lisa. He promised her he'd see her again. Though he's not sure when that will be.

With tired eyes and a heavy heart he hops from the wagon to unhitch the horse and pull it into the small stable for it to rest, giving it water and feed. The hay in the next stall and the pull of sleep is too tempting. He doesn't even make it into the home. He'll curl up on the hay and doze off, long tail curled around him like a cat.

[bringstheheat]

Len is lean and quick in the darkness and Mick does struggle to keep up. He's the muscle, the brute and his wings ache to simply take to the air even if he knows that it's suicide. So he grits his teeth and climbs as quickly as his bulk will allow, claws digging into the stone and mortar as they move.

The cart is a welcome respite and he dozes in the warm hay almost immediately, never allowing himself to slip too far into sleep. After all, they were still escaping and he couldn't let his guard down too far.

As it eventually pulls to a halt, the half-dragon pulls himself from the back and helps an exhausted Snart to tend to the horse and drag the cart from view. When he turns, he can't help but shake his head at the sight of the Tiefling curled up in the hay, already asleep.

Mick doesn't wake him.

By the time he does stir however, it's clear that Mick has been busy. A deer has been run down and a small fire started, plenty of food for both Tiefling and a half-starved dragon who missed the taste of rich meat more than he cared to admit. His wings are loose and easy at his sides, digging in with relish to another helping.

Len has a plan, he's almost sure of it. Kid never did anything without thinking a few moves ahead and Mick respects that about him. Whatever they did - he was on board.

[icejacking]

Given time to sleep on it, he realizes that as much as he wants to get revenge on his father and let Mick burn down the home that wasn't theirs, he also doesn't want to kill his Father. He wants to hurt him, but at the same time he'd rather just run as far away from him as possible and never see him again.

Whether that would happen was yet to be determined and if it came down to it he wouldn't stop Mick.

He rises, stretching his back as he gets out of the stall to join the half-dragon by the fire. He'll take a bit of deer off the fire to blow on it before he starts digging in. Long incisors definitely help to cut through the meat and tear strips off to enjoy.

"I doubt he'll find this place, but we probably shouldn't stay too long." He looks to Mick. "It's between towns, so we can go to another one to get supplies."

He thumbs over his shoulder. "Sea is that way, we're far enough away from civilization that if you want to stretch your wings you can."

His long tail is curled around his boots, tip flicking back and forth idly.

[bringstheheat]

Mick will simply set himself between Len and his bastard father again if that's what it came down to. No one was going to hit him again, make Len feel like he's less than what he really was. Dragons were fiercely territorial and now Snart was his to protect. A partner and ally.

"Can make it to the next town and gear up," he agrees with a rumble. "Most places need muscle for a few extra coin."

In a bit. He won't take to the air until he's had a few minutes to eat and find out what the plan was. But he does give them a shake, flexing one leathery wing and then the other, the tough skin shimmering in faint shades of red and gold now that his powers are no longer bound by that damned collar.

[icejacking]

The pair of them are going to have a hard time traveling, both half-dragons and Tieflings are rare as they come. Mick may not get it it near as bad as he would considering the stories and how most people are afraid of Tieflings because of their infernal bloodline. Though Mick looks demonic enough for a half-dragon he might be confused as infernal as well. It might not be easy to find honest work and if that's the case Len has his way of making quick money the illegal way.

"I can go in later and have a look around, get a feel for things before we give it a chance." There's no telling if it would be safe or not even if it were far enough away from his home. His father had enough influence as a wizard and enough magic at his disposal to spread the word that his son had stolen his prized half-dragon minion. He imagines the bastard will spin a tale to make him out to be the bad guy here so that the authorities will want to bring them in.

He has a bad feeling that before they know it they'll be wanted men and have hide more than they already are. Despite what headache and hardship it might bring, he didn't regret running away or setting Mick free. Silver-blue eyes watch the half-dragon with wonder. He ducks his head as a strong wing stretches out towards him, marveling at the beautiful colors he sees in his scales.

He catches himself before his curious fingers can run along the leather.

[bringstheheat]

They were going to have a hard time of it unless they stuck to more dishonest work and for the most part? Mick could care less. As long as he was able to stick with Len he was fine. The dragon in him had attached to him, decided that of all things in the realm, Leonard Snart was his treasure. His thing to hoard and look after. A partner and friend.

The inquisitive look draws a pleased rumble. Even as Len hesitates to touch, Mick tips his wing closer, allowing him to touch. His eyes are bright and silvery in the half-light and Mick can't seem to stop himself as he shifts closer. "'s all right. If you wanna touch." In fact, he wants him to touch, wants to feel the warm pass of fingers along a wing.

[icejacking]

There's a flick of his eyes to the half-dragon's face as he's given permission and he'll slowly spread his hand along the warm leather, marveling at the feel of the sleek membrane stretched between scaly digits.

"I got curious... about my kind. What I am. How Tieflings came to be." well in most circumstances. "And there were stories of some looking more infernal and demonic than I do. Cloven hooves and wings."

He mutters about this as his fingers continue to trace along the wing carefully, light touches moving to the long, scaly, finger-like bones, following it up to the top of his wing where there's a clawed thumb.

"I often wondered what it would be like to have wings."

[bringstheheat]

Mick barely resists the urge to push his wing further into the light, exploratory touch. "Ain't nothing in this world like flying under your own power," he offers. "Can be murder on your back if you don't stretch them out once in a while either."

Wings are useful, but they also come with their own set of drawbacks. None of which he can think of with those long fingers following the arc of his wing, testing the sharpness of his claw.

"Y'got more power than your old man realizes. More power than most Tieflings I've seen." He had taken what he was and turned it into something more, made it his own and Mick admired his skill in that sort of determination.

[icejacking]

Len slowly draws his hand back, dropping his eyes to his fingertips and the palm, focusing on it to gather in a cold air so it swirls in blue and white in his palm like a snow globe without the glass to contain it. His fingers move slightly, stirring the cold energy around so it swirls and dances in a contained orb in his hand.

"Maybe. But unlike him it's not power I want." He closes his fingers around the orb and it disburses into the air like frost, glittering in the firelight briefly before the heat consumes it.

"You've met others like me?" He peers at the half-dragon curiously, he's never met another of his kind.

[bringstheheat]

"That's because you're smarter 'n him." Mick watches the way he calls his power, a simple display of sparkling frost and cold. He can't abide it personally, but he understands Snart's fascination with it.

A grunt as he nods. "Old man used to send me on jobs to watch his crew, keep 'em in line. There were a couple on a few jobs. Mostly spell slingers, couple of assassins, their power fascinated him. Half-breeds are always different. Never know what side is gonna manifest more or with what power."

"What's the plan now? Other than getting clear?"

[icejacking]

"Getting far away from here." He pulls his knees up and hugs them to his chest as he watches the fire.

"Gathering supplies, maybe getting a ride on a ship to sail away." He shrugs, "Whatever it takes to get to a place where we don't have to be looking over our shoulders. I don't know how far my Father's influence lies."

He picks up a flagon to have a swig of water, "Once we're clear we can start out on our own path, steal whatever we need to, find work maybe."

All of that depends on what they can manage for themselves. Though he won't deny that being a thief has always been a thrill to him.

[bringstheheat]

Good. As long as he accepts that they're sticking together. Mick doesn't have an issue taking orders with someone who understands his power, who doesn't require the use of a warded control collar.

"We'll manage. Can take whatever we need before we get on a ship. Steal the money we need to book passage." A tavern is an easy target, lift a few wallets, gamble, hire himself out as muscle for a few nights. It wouldn't take them long.

[icejacking]

Len'll reach in to grab another hunk of deer, cooling it with his magic before digging in and having his fill. He'll stand, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand and turning blue eyes up to the sky. It was still early, day-break had been a few hours ago. They couldn't dawdle long but they could bide their time enough to rest and gain their strength.

"You should get some sleep if you didn't do so on the way here. I'm going down to the shore for a wash. Can't very well hide if I'm stinking." Many creatures had keen senses after all.

"when I'm through I'll head into town to have a look, see if it's worth a stop or if we should pass it by for the next." He takes a bar of soap and a bit of cloth with him.

[bringstheheat]

So maybe Mick didn't wait while Len went down to the water to clean himself off. Maybe he was curious enough about him that he followed, watching with fascinated eyes as he stripped down and started to wash. A fire drake like Rory didn't have much use for water unless it was for drinking, but there was something deeply captivating in the way it sluiced down his shoulders, following the long muscles of his back.

If Snart knew he was there he clearly didn't give a damn.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

In hindsight, Mick never should have fallen asleep. But he was warm and full and the dragon in him was still a sucker for basking on a warm rock. A half-dragon would draw attention and for now they were still on the run so Len had opted to go into town alone and do some scouting.

One hour became two and when the sun was beginning to dip close to the horizon Mick was concerned enough to take wing and make for the town Len had indicated. Flying was risky, it left him exposed but it was also the fastest way for him to get to the town.

".. demon born! Your fault! .. Burn the creature! Send it back to the plane it belongs!" His hearing can pick up the screams and demands of a crowd looking for blood. Mick's wings beat harder, propelling him towards the crowd as he catches sight of the deep blue of Snart's cloak.

The half-dragon lands with a thundering roar, pulling the angry mob away from the broken and beaten form of the Tiefling. Len. Mick stands over him, driving back any attacker with fist and wing and flame. They can't have him. Dragons jealously guard what is theirs and Leonard Snart was Mick's just as much as Mick was his. Only when the crowd falls back does he kneel to lift his companion, his partner into his arms and take wing again.

Mick doesn't have the endurance of a full blooded dragon when it came to carrying another, but he's also got a lifetime of stubborn determination to draw on, forcing his wings to move and carry them far enough away from the town to keep Len safe. "Hang on partner. I gotcha."

[icejacking]

Len left his clothes on a rock and waded into the surf until it was up to his hips. His long tail slithered through the water while the waves moved up his torso and rolled onto shore. The blue of his skin was a deep, royal shade and patches of his body were covered in thicker hide, some of it scale-like. There was ridges of bone flowing halfway down his spine and over the edges of his shoulders and hips. A formation of these ridges climbed up from the base of his tail to the lower 3 vertebrae. His chest and belly were smooth with darker markings, some followed the curve of his ribs or waist and down his thighs. There were other marks, mottled scars from the abuse he'd taken from his father over the years. Lighter blueish-purple gashes marring his body.

If he's noticed Mick he pays no mind to him, too busy washing to care about someone watching him bathe. He'd gone so long with people looking at him like he was a monster, an abomination, that he was ugly or disgusting. It was refreshing to have someone look at him with fascination and wonder. To know that Mick might find him attractive to look at was a compliment he'd never admit.

Once through he'll lay naked on a rock to dry off, soaking in the heat of the sun for as long as he could stand it. He'll then slip into his clothes, fastening the back of his pants around the girth of his tail, tying his shirt, slipping on a vest, his cloak and carrying his boots till he was out of the sand. He'll come back to spot Mick basking on a rock, grab a waterskin and head into town with the promise he'll be back within an hour or so.

He's just having a look around and maybe pop in to talk to a few people to find out information. At least, that was the plan at first.

As it turns out Magic was banned from the town, so at least he could assume his Father's influence didn't hold much ground here. That wasn't to say he didn't have eyes and ears about, as he was warned by a trusted source he met at the tavern. He caught some unfriendly attention though and quickly left. Unfortunately he was followed and before long he was exposed as he attempted to escape, hood falling back as he's shoved and dodges around thrown fists. The ruckus gathers the attention of some locals and weapons are brought into the fray or rocks thrown.

Len does what he can to try and defend himself with just his wits and a knife, but he's battered and thrown to the ground. One man bears down on him and in desperate attempt to save himself he throws magic at him, spattering his face and upper body in frost and ice. He suffocates and that only serves to rouse the anger of the crowd. He's kicked and beaten, one man even manages to stab him through the side with his sword, he barely dodges an axe as it slams into the ground where his head was. He curls into a ball, covering his head and face, tail pulled in against him as he's damn near trampled into the dirt.

Then there came a roar and in a blur of heat and leather he was saved. He's fading in and out of consciousness when Mick scoops him up and carries him off. He's limp in his arms, hearing the rumble of his voice as he reassures him and they fly to safety. He'll pass out, losing quite a lot of blood that if left un-treated will kill him.

Luckily for both of them there is a hut tucked back in the woods where a healer lives. The home permeates the air with the smell of fresh herbs and healing spices. The old man there would gladly tend to Len to save his life, instructing Mick to give him a tincture and spread salve on the wound to keep infection out. The only payment he'll ask for is Mick's hand around his home, weeding, chopping wood or other things where the old mans strength might fail him. Len needs his rest anyway.

Once through he'll feed the dragon, offering the pair to stay the night but stating he can spare no more than that. that his companion should be fine enough to travel by morning if the Dragon carries him back to their camp.

[bringstheheat]

Henry Allen is one of the few healers Mick had come to trust since the elder Snart started sending the half-Dragon on jobs of his own, trusting the control collar to always bring him back. The human was far kinder than anything Mick had ever experienced in his life and he tried to do right by him. Keeping trouble away, dropping off baubles when he could. So when he felt the tacky feel of blood on his hands as he carried Len to safety, his wings took him the one place he knew they'd be safe.

They won't stay long. As Allen treats his partner and friend Mick sets himself to work outside. Clearing brush. Gathering firewood. Running down a pair of deer. Things to help keep the man fed and sheltered. The Dragon works through the day and well into the night until the human emerges from his cabin to nod at him. He's alive. He'll survive a flight by morning. Mick understands the danger - he can't expose Allen to further risk, so they'll leave once Len is awake and has taken something to dull the pain of his injuries.

Mick sets the fire to light and settles in beside the bed where Len lay unconscious. He watches the way the flickering light plays across his features, the angle of his jaw, the markings on his skin and he wonders if that odd sensation in his chest is what affection or desire is supposed to feel like. After living his life without them, it's a little hard to tell.

But a hard battle and a long flight take their toll and it isn't long before his head is drooping forward and the half-Dragon eventually falls into a restless sort of sleep.

[icejacking]

By daybreak the Tiefling will stir, groaning softly as he shifts on his cot. His head is pounding and he's thirsty, but he's alive. There's still aches, bruises and scrapes but he's not bleeding out. Even with healing magic there was usually a residual ache for a time. More rest and light labor would give his body time to repair the rest on his own. Between the herbs and a dash of spellcraft he would survive and be well within a few days.

The long tail flops out of the bed and curls on the floor as if it too was rudely awakened. He'll push himself up to sitting, moving slowly and carefully as he winces at the pull to his wounds or the way his ribs are bruised all over. He reaches for water left for him and drinks deep, almost missing the presance of the half-dragon form next to his bed.

He'd saved his life and guarded him through the night. He's never known anyone who would do that for him.

[bringstheheat]

Mick is a little slower to wake, only rubbing at his eyes blearily as he registers movement beside him and Snart moving to fetch his own damn water. Stubborn ass. His tail lands on his foot and the half-dragon pulls himself awake with a grunt. His back was a riot of tension and his wings were achingly stiff after such a flight and with luck he'll be able to talk Henry into a little healing of his own before they have to head off for the camp they had made.

"Sit still damnit," he rumbles. "Gotcha some food, should help you with the healing process."

[icejacking]

He frowns softly at being scolded but carefully sets himself up so he can rest back against a pillow at a comfortable angle against the wall. He rests a hand over his side where the sword had pierced him.

"...I was lucky you figured out something went wrong." He knows just how close he came to death last night.

"Or that you cared enough to save me and arrived when you did."

[bringstheheat]

Scowl all he likes but Mick isn't going to let his stubborn blue ass out of bed until he's had something to eat and Henry tells him he's in decent enough shape to travel. Len might be stubborn, but so is Mick. He drags a weary hand across his face, scrubbing at his horns. "Knew I shoulda gone with you."

"Course I cared enough to save you." In a short time Leonard Snart had become deeply important to Mick. Valued and cared for. Wanted. But now wasn't exactly the right time to think about watching him bathe, about the water sliding down his skin.

Mick pushes a plate at him. "Here. Allen said you should eat up, it'll help you heal."

[icejacking]

Honestly it was the closest thing to a Thank You as Mick will get but he's grateful that the half-dragon saved his life. He takes the plate of food without protest and picks at it, nibbling here or there and eating slow. He's hungry but he's still a little woozy. He studies the other with different eyes. He's never really had a friend like him before, someone he'd bonded with so easily or that could care for him so quickly. Most contacts he had were barely trustworthy, but just, and he wouldn't call them friends per se. They'd cut ties if it were ever too much trouble to remain in contact. And in a situation like the one he was in, none of them would've stepped in to help for fear of risking their own lives or outing themselves. Many wouldn't want to be associated with him in general. Especially now they'll be wanted men.

"Have you eaten?" Obviously the dragon slept at least a little bit. His tail flicks in a slow, thoughtful rhythm as he eats.

[bringstheheat]

They work well together in that. Len isn't used to saying thank you and Mick isn't used to hearing it. So the moment passes and he watches carefully as he picks at his food, a little of the meat, some of the vegetables Henry had provided from his garden for roasting.

"Ran down a couple of deer while you were gettin patched up. I'll string up some of it to dry, see what we can cure and take with us." He's eaten, but only just enough. Mick wanted any of the healer's stores saved for him or for Snart if needed. He could continue to hunt for anything he might need for himself.

Timeskip

[icejacking]

Once the Tiefling is fed and strong enough, the pair of them will pack up the few gifts Henry Allen has given them- food, medication, a healing spell and some components- and they leave. It's another day of rest in their camp before they're taking the horse, the carriage and moving on. A few more days of travel through several small towns, through wind and rain, until they can find a place for work, a place where the people don't seem to mind two strange looking outsiders. It's temporary at best, but at least they can rest for awhile and make some coin, or at least earn their supper.

But it's not enough for Len, soon he's slipping off to one of the neighboring towns that threw them out and he's taking all that he can. He's half-tempted to let mick burn the place down as well. But they leave the small village and within the week are packing up and moving on before any word spreads about their misdeeds. He doesn't want to get their company in trouble for keeping thieves.

This goes on for some time hoping from one place to the next with he and Mick only growing closer, keeping each other alive and free and living the way they've always wanted. A tension is growing between them, want, desire and curiosity. They were both well past the age where they should've discovered themselves, both adults in their own right, but neither having the opportunity to really explore. There's a lot of pent up energy that needs released even if Len is still trying to sort himself out, he's aware of what he's feeling, had seen or learned enough to know, even if he's feeling it for the first time.

It makes things a little awkward at camp that night, they have food in their bellies and alcohol and a good haul they gathered as they are in between towns. It's just the pair of them alone in the woods with nothing much better to do. Len isn't exactly sure how to approach the subject or talk about such things with the other. But part of him wants to admit what he's been feeling for awhile now, every time they successfully steal things and escape. That freedom, the rush, it does something to him. Something potent he can't shake but has been ignoring for a time. Something he doesn't want to ignore anymore now that he knows what he wants. What he's been missing all along...

Silver-blue eyes watch the half-dragon through the flicker of the flames and for a moment he can't turn away, too mesmerized by the powerful sight of his partner and best friend. The one person in his life he can trust with it and everything that goes with that life.

[bringstheheat]

It's no secret that dragons are possessive creatures by nature and while Mick craves the next good haul, he's finding himself craving the Tiefling more. He still watches him when he bathes and after a time, both of them stop pretending that it's some kind of secret. Tangled up in that tension of want and desire is the unsure curiosity of two creatures who haven't yet been allowed to explore that aspect of themselves and what it means to share with another.

Dragons also tend to take what they want, but it's his friendship and respect of Len that has kept Mick from reaching out and claiming as his.

They live free. They have money and wine and enough to get them through the season and then some. But it's not enough. Mick wants more. He wants a heat different than the fire blazing in camp.

Glancing up, feeling those eyes on him, Mick stops. His throat goes dry at the way his eyes glitter in the firelight. The want swells up again and he crawls closer, never breaking eye contact. If Len doesn't stop him, he's going to taste those lips tonight. Maybe finally lay claim to Snart as his and have Snart claim him in return.

[icejacking]

Tieflings by nature have a sensual draw to them, an alluring presance that most find almost irresistible. Obviously not every one feels the same, many are still able to call them demons and drive them out, but somewhere in their bellies their curiosity wants more. That sort of power over beings like humans is part of why they are so frightened of Tieflings, and that desire they claim is evil. Leonard is aware of the stories of what they say about what he is, but to be fair he's never seen or tested any of it. He never really felt welcome in taverns or was comfortable in social situations.

But the way the half-dragon pauses, how he almost stalks towards him like a predator bearing down on his prey is both a powerful sight and a somewhat frightening one. He stays where he's seated though, wanting, waiting to see what he'll do. He's seen the looks Mick gives him when he thinks he's not paying attention, knows he's been watching him when he bathes. It's never felt... wrong. It always stirred something within him, something that flares stronger still with the way the other is looking at him now.

Long, prehensile tail sweeps behind him, tip flicking with the charged air. He's trembling slightly with anticipation, a little scared but mostly excited, it's no difference than facing the danger of being caught. The rush of a heist. Only this is so much more potent. Especially when the other finally crosses the distance between them and takes his lips, kissing him hard. It's sloppy and hungry, either fumbling with inexperience but just going with what their instincts tell them. Soon they find their rhythm and before he knows it he's on his back with the hulking form over him and his heart threatening to break through his sternum. His tail loops around Mick's waist, tongue teasing as the kiss deepens and he parts his thighs to let their bodies crash together.

[bringstheheat]

When Len wants to, he can move like water. Flow with power and grace and Mick has wanted him since that first day he watched him bathe, watched those hands on blue skin and he wanted it to be his hands, wanted it to be him with Len in the water. Touching.

But dragons, even half-dragons, and water don't exactly mix well.

He doesn't move, doesn't stop him and when Mick is close enough and their mouths crash together a possessive growl rumbles deep in his chest. Instinct tells them how to tilt their heads, how to deepen the kiss and then it's warm slide of tongue against tongue, hands clutching and gripping as they can finally have this. Len wants just as much as Mick has been wanting him and there's a freedom and joy to it as he settles his weight, keeping most of it braced on his knees and elbows, savoring the kiss for as long as he can.

Mick knows, at least in theory, what's supposed to happen. You don't work as muscle on heists or guard crooks and thieves and killers and not hear tales around the fire. But it's never something he's had for himself and as he rocks his hips down and forward the friction and pressure is tantalizing. Promising more once they get things like clothes out of the way.

[icejacking]

The pair of them rut together, enveloped in each others heat and consuming one another until Len has to break the kiss to breathe. He groans low with a particularly good thrust of Mick's hips and he'll spread long fingers down his back to grip the base of each wing firmly. He rolls into him a few more times, panting and rasping low before he can't take it anymore. His breeches are getting too uncomfortable for words and the clothes have got to go.

He gently pushes the half-dragon back, "let me get up a minute. I promise you won't regret it."

He peers up at him with a flush to his cheeks, he's very clearly aroused, "I need to get out of my clothes."

He doesn't really know what to do after that but skin on skin would be much better regardless of how this all ends.

[bringstheheat]

Cool fingers wrapping around the base of each wing draws a shuddering groan from the half dragon as he buries his face in Len's neck, gasping for breath. More. Everything in him is screaming for more. More taste, more touch, more of that delicious friction and building heat between them.

He doesn't want him to get up, doesn't want to break an instant of contact until he's told why and then Mick is sitting back so they can both strip out of their clothes. Whatever comes next, they need clothes out of the way.

The Tiefling is just as beautiful as he was the first day Mick saw him. Only this time he can touch. This time he can run a hand down his chest and across his stomach, wrapping a hand around him, getting used to the weight and feel of him. Mick gives a few experimental strokes, watching to see how he reacts.

[icejacking]

When allowed to his feet he'll notice the way his knees are weak, or how his hands are shaking as he takes off his vest or pulls off his shirt to throw it aside. He turns so his back is to Mick, trying not to be too distracted or intimidated by where things are going since it's his first time. There are patterns of darker blue, almost obsidian scales traveling up from the base of his tail and along his spine, splitting out in jagged arcs to follow the curve of his hips and waist. There are more plates at the top of his spine, along his shoulders and doing much the same as the ones on his lower back, only flowing down. More plates line his thighs, along his chest and shoulders at the front. A trail of hair comes up from his nether regions but otherwise he's hairless aside from whats on his head and face.

He kicks off his boots and with deft fingers reaches behind him to undo the bindings of his pants at the top of his tail. The cloth goes slack and falls from slender hips as the half-dragon finishes disrobing, giving the other a familiar view. Only this time, in his arousal his tail angles slightly at the very base to flash a teasing view of a much more intimate sight.

He swallows a lump in his throat as he stands nude, heart fluttering and beating hard with nervousness. It's not as if the other hasn't seen him naked before, he knows he's watched him bathe, but the charged air and close proximity is making his stomach do flip-flops.

He glances over his shoulder to see the other move up behind him and for a brief moment he tenses at the first exploratory touch. He's not used to such gentle affections, or the very obvious desire for him. He trembles softly but quickly gets a firm hold on himself and leans back against Mick as his hand travels further down his belly. The girth of his tail is slightly lifted out of the way and looped aside to make room for Mick's hips, feeling the heat and thickness of his cock as he presses up against him. His tail wraps around a strong thigh to keep him close.

His stomach lurches and his back curls when the half-dragon first wraps his hand around his hardness and gives a few strokes. His breath hitches in a shuddered inhale as he closes his eyes and tips his head back against a broad shoulder. He loops an arm up and back around his neck, digging his fingers into the muscle of his shoulder as he moans, hips rocking into the touch while simultaneously rubbing his ass into Mick's cock. He stretches his body out for him so he has a good view of just what he's doing to him, feeling him writhe against him.

[bringstheheat]

And where Len has plates interlocking along his shoulders and spine, running in intricate patters down his dark skin, Mick has patches of more subtle scales. Gleaming in tones of bronze and gold in the half-light of the fire along broad shoulders, the line of his spine raised in harder, almost armored bumps that can morph into spines in the heat of battle. The scales are mottled with heavy scars along his arms and chest, a battle that had very nearly cost the half-dragon his life early in his youth.

The only hair on his body is the faint stubble along his jaw, a nod to his half-human heritage but the innate heat in his body was enough to burn away the rest as he'd grown.

Mick is still panting for air as he presses up against him, feeling the cool skin of the Tiefling against his body, the tantalizing squeeze of his tail around his thigh. He growls as Len writhes against him, wanting more, needing more as bare skin slips and slides along his eager cock. However far they get he knows he's going to make it so good for his partner. The half-dragon wants to see him come undone, to see that dark skin sheened with sweat and cry out in ecstasy.

[icejacking]

All of this is intoxicating, and for his first time he's having a hard time not losing himself to it to just mindlessly grind and moan until he's undone from just this. He manages to keep a grip on his clarity and he'll realize he needs something more to really make him unravel. It occurs to him it would feel better with some lubricant.

"M-mick," He hums as those fingers find a really great spot at the underside of his head.

"The packs... theres--there's some oil... get it." He keeps oil to massage into his skin and scales, to keep them from getting too dry and flakey or to crack and become painful. It keeps everything strong while giving it a lovely sheen. And they can be easily used as a great lube for more pleasurable things. If he doesn't find that there is cooking oil too.

[bringstheheat]

It takes Mick a moment to process what Len is talking about. He's too caught up in the moment, the press and writhe of the body against him, feeling muscles bunch and shift as he tastes his neck and shoulder. "Oil." Right. Oil. Blinking he moves back to their packs, rummaging around for the oil that Len favors for his scales. "C'mere." He takes a moment to rearrange a few of their sleeping blankets close to the fire.

Bronze eyes gleam in the firelight. "Wanna be able to see you." Mick can slick up a hand and touch him better this way, can drink in every reaction, every heave of his body as he touches and explores.

[icejacking]

When Mick leaves his back it feels like he's going to bonelessly crumple to the ground. He manages to get his knees and legs to not turn into jelly and remain upright, though he's shivering without the warmth and heat of his partner. His tail swishes and curls, frantically searching for something to latch onto before it just wraps around his own leg and waist, needing contact. He's painfully hard and wanting and it aches that they've stopped.

So naturally when Mick finally calls him over he'll eagerly go and at first he stoops down on hands and knees, unsure how the other wants him. He can only think to animals and how they rut together, this would be easier, right? Stretching out his back by the fire his tail shifts and arches, lifting up out of the way to expose himself. He glances over his shoulder giving Mick a pleading come-hither glance, gently stroking his aching length to relieve some of the pressure.

[bringstheheat]

Mick doesn't want to leave his partner, doesn't want to stop at all, but there's the promise of more and that's enough to drive him towards the fire and the oil that he needs.

The sight of the Tiefling crawling closer, the firelight shimmering off his dark skin and the dusky plates is enough to steal his breath. A heavy hand settles on his hip, smoothing along the curve of his ass, down his flank. He's beautiful.

He coats one palm in oil, pressing himself up against his partner to drag a slick hand along his length, kissing down his shoulder and nipping eagerly at his neck, tasting the salt on his skin. It's not exactly like the mating dances of other dragons, executed in flight, but the intent is still the same. One act will bind him to Snart for the rest of his days.

The slick hand drags back across his hip, pressing a finger against his enticing entrance, just below where his tail quivers eagerly. "Will you let me, Lenny?"

[icejacking]

His heart is jack-hammering in his chest, threatening to leap up into his throat and strangle the air from him. He's nervous and excited all in one as he leans down to fold his hands under his cheek and rest his head, thighs apart and ass up. His cock throbs, bobbing softly as a bead of precum seeps out the tip from anticipation alone. His balls tighten at the first touch, belly lurching and hips rolling with the brush an oiled hand. He shudders, breath hitching and goosebumps spreading out down his back.

His tail twitches, lifting up and wrapping around the thick torso, looping up over a broad shoulder to round the slender end around his chest. His ass pushes out into the brush of oiled fingers over his entrance, angling so he has complete access.

"Yes, please, Mick. I want it." He's aching so badly for it. Whatever it ends up being. He's practically dizzy with need.

[bringstheheat]

Mick has never wanted much in life. A good score, a moderately sized hoard to protect, fire, that's about it. Never once in his entire life did he think he could have something like this. A partner and mate, someone who wanted him in return.

A pleased hum at the wrap of his tail around him and Mick strokes his fingers along it as he settles in behind him. He's not a small man, he's going to have to use some of that oil to smooth the way and folding himself over Len's back he kisses along his neck, biting at his shoulder to distract him as he sinks a finger into the warm clutch of his body.

[icejacking]

There is a more reckless part of him that wants to just throw caution to the wind and tell Mick to just put it in, he doesn't care how big he is, how thick it is. He wants to feel the other fill him, to know what it's like to be taken, rough or soft, he doesn't care. He wants it bad.

But the more logical part of himself manages to wrangle down that desire, knowing damn well he's never had anything like this before. He's still young, they both are, they've both been hidden away from the world without much in the way of intimate contact with anyone. He's worked out his own sexual nature, has a general idea what he likes or how to pleasure another, but he never got the chance to try.

He knows he'll need to be prepared for it to not hurt as much. He imagines it'll be uncomfortable at first no matter how much prep they manage, but he's ready. The heat of Mick pressed against his body is comforting and imposing. All these strange yet arousing and conflicting feelings are overwhelming but wonderful. His breath hitches at the sharp bite at his shoulder, or the press of a thick finger into him.

He breathes through it, closing his eyes and his brows furrow and he just concentrates on how Mick is crowding his senses, just feeling his way through everything. It burns, but it slowly ebbs away into pleasure and gets easier with each press and slide of his hand.

"Please..." He moans low as his body gives way and relaxes at the stretching of his hand inside of him. He'll quiver with each prod against his prostate, precum dripping off his cock.

[bringstheheat]

As much as Mick might want to just put it in, to feel the way Len shivers and clenches around him, he wants it to be good for both of them. They've had enough pain in their lives. This needs to be perfect. Warmth and heat and want. So he tamps down on his impatience, working in one finger and another, listening to the soft and eager sounds Len makes with each press.

He keeps pressing in close against Len, breathing in his partner, the scent of his skin and how eager he moves back up against him. Once he can get three fingers in easily, Mick pulls back, using some of the oil to slick up his cock. One hand on Len's hip, he uses the other to guide himself into Len's waiting entrance.

Tight. It's tight and warm and Mick swallows a growl as he forces himself to press in slowly. He screws his eyes shut, breathing in short gasps as he takes his time, finally stopping once he's fully seated inside him and it's better than Mick ever could have dreamed of.

"Nnh. Lenny.."