“Barry wanted to come to the shelter. After the hospital he's been more stir crazy. Needless to say you're not the only one with a new animal. Ashes will have to meet Lucipurr some day.” And as if to assuage any of Mick’s insecurity brought on by Barry from time to time he finally made himself comfortable up against his partner’s shoulder with his head down and arms crossed over his chest. He knew that everything was still an adjustment for Mick and he was letting his partner set the pace of whatever he wanted them to be. But that didn't mean he was going to let him be stupid about whether or not Len himself actually wanted to spend time with him or be in his space. Of course he did. When death was his only alternative, spending time with the people he deemed worthy of his attention was more of a priority.
He was also pretty fucking exhausted. He hadn't slept even more than usual with Barry down for the count. And now that Barry was up and around his mind was too preoccupied with finding and harming Eobard Thawne. Getting Mick a cat had been a much needed excuse to think about something and someone else for a little while. If Mick let him, and given a little more time, he could probably take a hint from the cat and fall asleep on him too. They hadn’t been much for closeness and cuddling in their thirtysome years but Len was, ironically, warming up to the idea these days. He’d blame it on being stuck here or getting old but really it was just a matter of being glad to have Mick around again.
“Don't worry. I'll put you on ice before you get too domestic. As long as you promise to do the same.” He said it but they both knew that neither of them were any good at following through. Even when they’d both had good reason to kill each other they hadn't been able to do it. Plenty of threats. Plenty of blood and bruises. But never the real deal.
“You smell like gas and motor oil,” he complained, but half heartedly. “Might actually miss the ash and kindling”