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It's the fifth day of being stuck in the stuffy conference room with Mayor Snart going over the details of his metahuman algorithm when Barry finally snapped.
"What's your problem with me?"
Mayor Snart raised one perfectly calm eyebrow up at the sudden outburst, calculated eyes narrowing as he glanced up from the paragraph he was in the middle of highlighting.
"I don't have a problem with you, Allen." Mayor Snart replied evenly, snapping the cap back onto the highlighter when Barry shook his head with a frustrated sigh.
"You do." Barry had been doing his best to ignore the obvious tension between them, but he couldn’t for the life of him understand what he could have done to offend Mayor Snart. "You definitely do. I know you do, I just don't know why you do."
The sly smirk that slid onto Mayor Snart's face was not making Barry feel any better about this conversation, but he couldn't spend another week trapped in this room for hours at a time dealing with Mayor Snart’s icy indifference. He’s been sweating through his shirts and stammering over his words all week, trying to make up for whatever he had done, and he couldn’t take it anymore. Not with the revisions they were going to be doing for the foreseeable future, and the close company they were being forced to keep because of them.
"Are you sure you want to do this? I know how easily your feelings get hurt."
"Hey!" Barry huffed in offense, the man’s smirk only growing wider at his outburst.
"Case in point," Barry did his best not to stare at the amused smile that his protest had spread across Mayor Snart's face.
Was it weird to be that attracted to teeth?
Probably, but God, did this man have a nice smile.
"I just want to know what I did, you very obviously don't like something about me." Barry shook himself to get his mind back on what was important. He wasn’t going to let Snart brush this off, he wanted a straightforward answer and he was going to get one damn it.
"You're right," Snart confirmed easily, leaning back in his chair while tapping his highlighter against the stack of papers in front of him. "There is something I don't like."
"What?"
"You're too nice." Snart accused with a flippant wave of his hand towards Barry’s general existence.
"Excuse me?" Barry huffed, reaching up to adjust his glasses with a disgruntled frown.
He couldn’t be serious. Since when was being nice a problem?
"You're too nice.” Snart nodded with a sympathetic tisk like he had just given bad news. “It's sickening."
"I'm...sorry?" Barry replied slowly, his brow pinched in confusion.
"You should be."
Barry narrowed his eyes, readjusting his glasses nervously as he fought not to squirm under the Mayor's intense gaze. "...are you messing with me?"
Barry wouldn’t be surprised if he were. Mayor Snart seemed to enjoy doing that a lot.
"You know,” Snart was smirking again, his intense eyes still locked on Barry. “Detective West warned me you were oblivious, and I'm really starting to think she was right."
When had his ex-wife talked to the Mayor?
"Oblivious to what?" Barry decided to ask about Iris after he had gotten some real answers from the Mayor first.
The delighted head shake and snort of laughter his question received was enough to make Barry bristle.
"The only problem I have with you, Barry Allen, is the fact that you're single."
That...was definitely not what he was expecting.
"You're...mad...I'm single."
"Yes." Snart nodded in confirmation.
"But why?" Barry asked in confusion. Iris and he had only been divorced for four months, and dating hadn’t really been on his mind with the pending deadline for his algorithm presentation looming over his head. Why Mayor Snart cared about his romantic life made zero sense to him.
"Really, Barry, there isn't a single reason you can think of?" Snart asked with a teasing eyebrow raise.
"Not really," Barry admitted with a sheepish shrug.
"How about I give you a hint then?" Mayor Snart snatched up his pen, scribbling something quickly on a loose sheet of paper before pushing it across the conference table towards Barry.
"What's this?" Barry asked as he picked up the sheet of paper and saw the ten numbers scratched down.
"My private number."
