Considering his situation, Leonard wasn't in any rush to get back home either. As far as he knew, he had no future. Just an explosion waiting for him at the end of space and time. And if by some strange chance he was going to survive all that, Len couldn't imagine what kind of state he'd be. When or where or how he might be. Stranger things had happened in their universe, sure. Barry could travel through time. Kendra and Carter could reincarnate and Sara could be brought back from the dead. But Len didn't want to bother coming back if he was anything other than himself so he hadn't even speculated. Not to mention that going back meant forgetting everything in this place and he wasn't willing to give that up if he didn't have to.
Mick's hand on his shoulder was grounding,at least. Confirmation that Barry's concerns that Mick might hurt him were unfounded. He knew Mick wouldn't get over the hurt of his sacrifice over night, but the days where they were prone to pointing guns at each other or fighting until one or both of them bled seemed to be behind them. At least for now. Five months and change through time and space had changed both of them in ways Len was still figuring out and he'd already had a lot more time than Mick to do that.
"Been a hell of a last few months," he conceded with a hum, eyes tracking Mick's movements in a way that came naturally no matter where they were at. He wanted to tell Mick about Barry, of course, but wasn't about to lead with that. The first few moments of this little reunion were for the two of them and no one else. If anything his coming and going from this place had only solidified the feelings he had for his partner. Possessive, protective, and everything else more sentimental. He'd come to terms with that. But Mick hadn't had the same kind of time and if he felt differently after everything Len wouldn't begrudge him that. Mostly he wanted to know Mick would be ok here, and ultimately back home if he was sent that way.
He couldn't help the way his lips turned up in a smirk when Mick passed the gun over. Even if he wasn't quite the 'Captain Cold' of old Len had most definitely missed his gun even if their separation hadn't been long up to this point.
"There she is," he reached out and ran his hands over the familiar shape before pulling the weapon closer to him. He didn't have his holster handy or he would have put it away. "Knew I could count on you to look after it, Mick."
About that time his drink was placed in front of him and he relaxed his posture enough to at least enjoy that first gulp. Enough that their knees were touching under the bar but not so much in invitation as reassurance. Barry had assured him that anything that happened was fine but Len hadn't really concerned himself too much with how far things could go when he'd gone looking for Mick. For as wild and crazy as they'd always been together they had their quieter moments too. The reassurance of presence and non verbal communication was the kind of thing you only learned after years of being around one another.
"It's not so bad here, you know. Not exactly where I'd expect to end up after I finally kicked it, but not bad. I did half ass promise you a vacation after the whole Waverider mess," he waved his hand absently, before he wrapped it back around the beer bottle in front of him. "Technically you could say this counts."