Bar opens their eyes when someone sits down into the corner next to them. They turn their head, expecting Iris or Cisco - Iris always is their rock in situations like these and Cisco had been so adamant with sitting with them, they figure either of them would probably pry themselves of the conversations they’ve started. To their surprise, though, it’s Snart who’s pushed himself onto the table, pulling one leg closer to his chest while the other dangles off the table, almost touching Bar’s.
Initially, Bar represses a groan. They’ve come to know Snart as a witty and sarcastic person and while they’ve found themself laughing at some of his comments when they’d gone out for dinner, Bar has no idea how they’d like them aimed at themself.
Snart doesn’t say anything, though, just leans against the wall behind him and looks at Bar. There should be annoyance or a question written in his eyes, but there is nothing - he’s just looking at them as if they were something that’s easily scared (which, okay, they are) and… pretty.
“Would Mick appreciate you dumping him?”, they find themself saying after a few moments, hoping to get Snart to look away. Their own eyes move over to the others - departed into smaller groups and then again not really - to find Mick. He’s sitting on a chair and looking up to Linda who’s standing next to him, shouting something over to Sara.
“Fuck, he hardly ever appreciates anything I do.”
Bar’s lips curl into a smirk. “I wonder why.”
They turn to look at Snart again. There’s no doubt that he hadn’t averted his eyes for a single moment, the position still the very same as before. But he’s returning the smirk now, one corner of his mouth turning up and his eyes getting smaller. It’s a good look, really. “Cocky, hm?”
“Sometimes.”, Bar replies. They nod towards the others. “They’re a mess, aren’t they?”
“We knew that before.”, Snart tells them. Bar can’t quite deny that fact. “Is that the reason why you pulled yourself out of everything?”
It’s easy to talk to Snart, somehow. Bar would have thought it to be different now that they’re around people they know, different from their talk in the library or the dinner they shared, but it isn’t. Snart’s not pressing for answers - generally, if he asks about anything, he seems to really be interested. So Bar finds themself nodding. “I’m not really good with numbers of people. Anxiety, you know? I thought twelve would be manageable but well…”
“They’re a mess.”, Snart echos.
Bar chuckles. They turn a bit so that they’re properly facing Snart now, making their legs touch slightly.
“We could get out of here,” Snart suggest. His smile has faltered earlier and he sounds serious, but Bar can see a glim in his eyes.
They lean their head against the wall, still looking at Snart. “Later.”, they say, promising.
Snart nods. “I’m a patient man.”
“Prison does that to you.”, Snart says earnestly.
“You spent half a year in juvie.”, Bar points out. They don’t know what it’s like there, but it’s probably not as bad as a real prison - that one he knows, of course. Prison may not be the same as centuries ago where you weren’t allowed to do anything but sit in your cell, but all those walks in the yard and work you may do don’t really help make the time fly by.
“Hm,” Snarts makes. He leans forward, another smirk on his lips, and stage-whispers, “Maybe I’m not that patient after all, then.”
Bar finds themself humming as they watch him lick his lips. Snart’s still holding eye contact, they notice when they tear their own from his lips. And then, everything happens fast and slowly at the same time.
It’s as if the noises around them get turned down as they move towards each other. The music Oliver’s put on after everyone stated their names, the conversations, everything fades as the two of them move towards each other. It’s the first time that Bar kisses a man, they’re aware of the fact, but it doesn’t make them any more nervous than they already are. They’ve expected Snart’s lips to be rough, but there’s nothing about this kiss that’s not soft - as if both of them were careful; though Bar suspects they’re having different reasons for that.
There’s no push and pull, they’re moving together as if that’s all they’re made for. And yet, it’s not even a long kiss because Snart pulls away when Bar tries to open his lips with their tongue.
Bar’s eyes are open wide when they pull away, confused as to whether they’ve understood the whole thing wrong. Seeing Snart’s smile pushes that thought away, though, and the hand he puts on Bar’s knee feels more reassuring than anything.
Bar can’t rip their eyes of Snart’s face, of his lips, even as he moves. A few seconds later, Snart has turned so that both his legs are dangling off the table as well and they sit properly next to each other. Then, he lifts his hand again, moving it against Bar’s chin and suddenly they’re only inches apart again.
“Would’ve gotten rather uncomfy.”, he says matter-of-factly and Bar nods, their eyes flickering down again. Then, Snart chuckles. “And people call me eager.”
“Shut up,” is all Bar replies before moving forward again.