Len sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, looking up at the ceiling, “What time is it?” he asked the warm body clinging to his side, “Like… two.” It muttered, hot breath tickling Len’s left pectoral. “Late…” Captain Cold breathed, “It’s really fucking late….” His hand found its way to Mick’s fevered brow, “Bet we stink real bad.” He smirked ( Read more... )

Never. Because it wasn’t - not at all - not in the slightest.. He didn’t look up to Sam Scudder, he never admired Sam Scudder, or made an effort to learn about him, or his life. He didn’t ask the other’s about him. He didn’t read old articles about him (beyond research). And he was not even curious about him as a person.

Though…  As all the ( Read more... )