Barry had been dating Len for about a month when something he'd assumed was proven wrong.

Barry didn't even know he'd made an assumption at all up until then. It wasn't really something you gave much thought to.

But apparently deep down he had made a judgement about it anyway.

Though who would blame him?

Ask your self what kind of weather, what temperature would you expect Leonard- Captain Cold- Snart to prefer?

If you answered cold, you would be one hundred percent wrong, which Barry found out the 'hard' way.

It was the first time they'd slept together and Barry had been laying there, basking in the afterglow, with his head pillowed on Len's chest, when suddenly Len tugged not one but two of the discarded blankets at the bottom of the bed up on top of them.

"What're you doing?" Barry mummered into Len's skin, wiggling one of the blankets off.

"It's freezing in here Scarlett, wouldn't want you to catch a cold."

Which would have been sweet except...

"It's 72 degrees in here," Barry hid his grin in Len's neck.

Captain Cold retaliated for the laughter by shoving his ice cold feet underneath Barry's shins.