4
1.
"Hart," Mark says. It's been two weeks since they started dating, and Hartley hasn't heard that one yet.
"What?" he asks, intelligently. It's not with his usual eloquence or grace, but he's found that Mark eradicates that with a single smirk. Especially when he's wearing leather. He's wearing both smirk and leather, and Hartley curses internally. He's probably going to go along with whatever terrible plan Mark comes up with, simply due to this alone.
"Hart," Mark repeats, "That's what I'm calling you."
"Why?" Hartley asks, squirming slightly under Mark's gaze. He's never had a cutesy nickname like Hart before and he's not really sure what to think about it.
"Because," Mark says, grinning as Hartley goes red, "you're my heart,"
"Shut up," Hartley grins, surprised by how natural the expression is. Mark smiles genuinely, and Hartley's heart skips a beat.
Maybe dating a supervillain won't be so bad after all, he thinks.
2.
"You're so cute, doll," Mark chuckles, lightly dusting a hand down Hartley's cheek.
"Doll? Haven't heard that one yet," Hartley replies, leaning into the touch.
"Cause you're so small and delicate. Like a doll,"
Hartley splutters, face reddening. Mark grins, fingers curving past Hartley's chin and up, around his face.
"Soft, too." Mark whispers, in a tone he reserves for Hartley alone. "Wouldn't want to break you."
"Well maybe I'm tougher than I seem." Hartley replies, lowering his tone to fit Mark's. The wizard tilts his head back and laughs before seriously appraising Hartley.
"But no one should want to break you, doll." he says softly, and Hartley can feel himself reddening.
He wonders how much of what Mark just said was fantasy, a little lie to make himself feel better when he inevitably dropped Hartley.
3.
Hartley should have expected this. He really should have.
Axel Walker was touchy. Personally he didn't care, but Mark did.
Axel's arm dangles around Hartley's shoulders, fingers on his collarbone. He is leaning over Hartley's right shoulder, making adaptions to Hartley's invention, and he can see Mark getting tense.
"What about this, Hart?" Axel asks, and Hartley freezes, because he's sure Mark heard that and is going to do something ridiculous to Axel. Sure enough, a gale of wind knocks the piece of paper Hartley was working on to the ground. Hartley sighs, glancing up. Mark innocently blinks at him as though he had nothing to do with it whatsoever.
"Oh, hey, Sweethart."
"Sweethart?" Hartley protests, pouting. Mark leans on the table, face close to Hartley's. He can vaguely feel Axel moving back.
"Cause you're my sweetheart," Mark purrs, with a not-so subtle glare at Axel as he kisses Hartley breathless.
"Was that necessary?" Hartley asks, and Mark grins.
"Absolutely, Sweethart."
4.
If Mark could kill three people, it would be Joe West and then the Rathaway's.
Especially for what they've done to Hartley.
"You were right, Mark." he chokes out, eyes red. "They didn't love me."
Mark feels sick, and he swallows back nausea.
"Oh, baby," he whispers, and pulls Hartley down with him. Hartley breaks into sobs, burying his head into Mark's shoulders while Mark runs his fingers through Hartley's hair.
"They said they wanted to fix me," Hartley says, getting back in control. "Not for being a criminal, but for being gay. Maybe there is something wrong with me. After all, you're the only one who hasn't left me yet."
Mark's hand goes still on Hartley's back. He can feel an overwhelming fury wash over him, making his fingers shake. How dare Wells and Osgood and Rachel ever make Hartley doubt himself.
"There's nothing wrong with you, baby." he whispers lowly, pressing a kiss to Hartley's head. "They're the ones who hurt you with absolutely no reason to. You're my Hart, and I love you, no matter what."
"Promise?" Hartley strangles out a laugh and Mark smiles
"On my life, baby."
5.
"Darling," Mark whines. Hartley glances at him and returns to his book.
"Sweethart."
"Babe."
"Darling."
"Oh my god, what?" Hartley finally explodes, glaring at Mark. It's the opening he's been waiting for. He uses his powers to blow Hartley's book back into place, causing a cry of outrage to come from his boyfriends throat.
"Mark Mardon!"
Mark grins shamelessly, and conjures up a gust of wind and sends Hart spinning into his arms. The piper yelps, and Mark smiles fondly at the look of surprise on his face.
"Hey there," he whispers, memorising the moles on Hartley's face.
"Hi," Hartley replies, eyes wide and lips falling open. He was so cute, Mark couldn't control himself. He tilted Hartley's head up and kissed him, enjoying the little gaspy noise escaping Hartley's mouth.
"Oh my God,"
"Yes, Snart?" Mark asks, sounding possibly like a petulant child. Hartley's lips twitched into a grin, confirming his suspicions.
"You two, find your own safe house if you're going to be engaging in corrupting activities. Honestly, I'm tired of walking in on all of my rogues together."
"Warms your heart, doesn't it, Snart?" Mark grins cheerily and winds an arm around Hartley's waist. Snart rolls his eyes and vacates the area as quickly as he could.
"That was a terrible pun," Hartley offers and Mark laughs, kissing him again.
+1
"Zaps," Hartley says thoughtfully. Mark has to restrain a grin. His boyfriend is so very drunk, and it's amusing him.
"What's up, babe?" he asks, running a hand down the back of Hartley's neck. Hartley shivers, leaning back and turns his face up to Mark's.
"I wanna nickname you," Hartley's voice is serious.
"Okay," Mark says, waiting.
"Was going to call you Boo, but that's Shawna's. Frosty's Len." Hartley taps his lip, completely unaware of the furious look he's been shot by Snart himself.
He suddenly beams, big and beautiful. "Mon méchant! That's it!"
"Hart, what does that even mean? None of us speak French," Lisa says, amused.
"My villain," Hartley says, climbing into Mark's lap and clinging to him like a koala to a tree.
"Yeah. Yeah, that works," Mark says, winding an arm around Hartley's waist.
Shawna bites her lip to hide her laughter as Hartley smiles smugly at Axel and passes out, head on Mark's shoulder.
It wasn't the family Mark had once dreamt of. But it was the one he had, and he would be damned if he ruined it for himself.