[It hadn't taken him long, but it was long enough for Harrison to think quickly about Eobard Thawne, and why Barry might want to see him afterward. He's spoken with Thawne twice now—mostly comfortably, strange thought—but by the time Barry arrives, Harrison is leaning against the wall of his small living room, arms loosely folded.]
Allen.
[It's not Mr. Allen. It's not Barry. Thawne had never just called him Allen.]
( might as well he honest about it. he shifts where he stands, more than a little uncomfortable, but grateful nonetheless. it's -- messed up, maybe he'll admit. he wants to be close to harrison. he wants that face to -- be a kind one, an apologetic one. he wants to see it in a positive way, the way he can look at eobard and only ever see something disgusting, something monstrous.
he takes a silent step forward. )
Are you going to roll your eyes or call me an idiot if I ask for a hug?
[After Cisco's birthday, he wouldn't have thought Barry would feel he'd need to ask for something like a hug, especially since that's why Harrison had assumed he was here. But he drops his arms open and motions Barry over.]
( dutifully he crosses over, easily fitting himself into harrison's chest and winding his arms around his back, pushing his nose against his shoulder. he isn't going to cry, he doesn't think so -- at least, not with harrison's arms on him and his scent in his nose, his steady breathing what barry choose to focuse on, instead of lingering thoughts on why he's here, why it's so cathartic to be held by a face he used to love. ( and then he hated, and then he loved again. where is he now? )
fists ball up in the back of harrison's shirt. )
I got scared, ( he admits, after a few silent moments. )
[Harrison's arm loops easily around Barry's waist, the fingers of his other hand curling automatically around the back of Barry's neck, delicate and protective. It really is a reflex, he thinks briefly, before pressing that aside for now and just breathing and letting Barry cling.
There's a low-key ache behind his heart as Barry speaks, and Harrison nods briefly.]
( murmured into his shoulder, half muffled by it. he's the flash, right? he isn't supposed to be scared of anyone, of anything, he's supposed to defend and protect and fight when necessary -- and he's supposed to win. it's what heroes do. they don't go running to the nearest set of arms they can find to burrow deep in an embrace that lessens the pain for awhile. he's supposed to have some higher plan, some solution that fixes everything.
barry's never been good at doing what he's supposed to. the echoing crack of zoom splattering his back on the floor still radiates a string of insecurity within him, a realization that he isn't good enough, no matter how hard he tries. zoom will still be faster, the reverse flash will still be more powerful. he'll still be barry allen, afraid to step outside of his house, nestling in against harrison like that's the best problem solver he could think of. )
[It's not angry, but it is a fiercely gentle whisper as Harrison's arm goes almost too tight for a moment. This boy, this young man has saved thousands of lives, and always he's so certain that he won't be good enough next time.]
( smaller voice now, he turns his face away, cheek mashed against his shoulder. he can't flinch. he can't be weak. he can't run to harrison whenever he needs to be comforted, told that he's brave and strong and indeed, a hero. he isn't. what has he done to prove it? allowed eddie to die so eobard could be stopped? twiddled his thumbs and waited for some clear all sign to get rid of zoom with? the world may be made of metahumans -- people like oliver and thea, people who bring good to the world and wear their hero pins with pride, if not humanity. bruce, clark, peter, gwen. heroes, good people, the people who defeat the bad guys, the people who win.
[Harrison has to bite down hard on the automatic retort. This isn't him standing in the Cortex and growling at the Flash to keep him focused in the face of a metahuman battle. This is his long-standing agony, that Barry has somehow translated to weakness. As if living with pain is weak.
As if enduring loss, surviving it and getting stronger from it is weak. But somehow, when Barry does it, it is.]
Fine. You can't flinch. Bend, then. And don't tell me you can't. You're a scientist. You know what happens when something doesn't move with its stressors.
( it's just a fancier word, the implication is still the same. why other people can bend and flinch and break and get pushed to their limits while barry can't -- he isn't sure. it's just how it is. sometimes it feels like the world is lashing out at him, weighing on his shoulders with the importance of his universe and 52 other ones, and that's -- difficult, to bear. difficult but necessary. he doesn't have time to be upset. )
I can't let him think he has power over me. ( he grips harrison tighter, not sure if they're holding each other as lovers or as a son would hold his father -- maybe they just are, and maybe that's just enough. ) But he does.
He knows. Barry. Fifteen years. He knows you. You can't trick him into thinking...anything. Different. [And yes, Barry might be taller than he is, all things being equal, but right now things are far from it and Harrison is tucking Barry into both arms, bracing himself as if he can stand between Barry and some physical blow heading toward him and catch it himself, leaning more toward acting-father right now than anything else.
There's no other way to react, no other way he can react to the bleakness in Barry's voice, the way he's almost burrowed into Harrison's shoulders even as he whispers in the same breath that he can't do what he's doing right now.]
( it sounds hollow, empty, a question he's so sick of asking. what can he do? how does he fix things? where's the dummy's guide for dealing with your time traveling, mother murdering, arch nemesis? nothing is probably the answer, there's nothing to be done and nothing to do, but barry is never content with that. for all his insecurities, at least he'll never stop trying.
he peels back a little, slithers a hand up to cup harrison's cheek. )
[It's so quietly, sadly sincere that Harrison can't help smiling a little. Eobard has more than just his face, he knows that almost too well now, he has the memories and echoes of the first Harrison Wells from Barry's Earth, but that man's compassion hadn't gotten in the way of the Reverse Flash.
He's still the man who had built Barry up to bring him down even harder and twisted the very definition of love, and it isn't fair that Barry should have to deal with him now. It's not a sentiment that does any good at all, but Harrison still thinks it to himself.] Yeah. Well. It was mine first and I've done more with it.
( he smiles a little bit at that, small and sad, stroking a thumb over his cheek idly. a little in awe, at harrison -- how much he cares about him, how much it meant to hear harrison cares about for him in return. a fatherly way, maybe, which almost hurts if he thinks about it longer than he needs to. is it wrong of him to want more? )
I like it more on you.
( which definitely goes without saying, but you know. he still needs the words out loud, the you're the only one i need and i do need you, regardless of universes or how they were never meant to have met up. it means something regardless, it means everything, and much like cisco's party although without the alcohol definer, barry leans in and presses his mouth to him, a little desperate. finding the good still left in this city and searching for it in harrison. )
[It hadn't been a challenge to predict that this might be coming, and Harrison's fingers rub lightly over the nape of Barry's neck, slow and even, keeping him here.
The last thing he wants is to do something that will end up hurting Barry even more deeply.
But that doesn't mean he won't lean into the kiss, light and careful, the hand around Barry's waist tucking him in closer. Here, at least for a little while, there isn't anything Barry needs to save, nothing to sacrifice for, it's just them. He can just be Barry Allen.]
( what a pleasure it is, sometimes, to be just barry allen. he wouldn't trade up the flash life for anything, he thinks, from living a boring and frankly meaningless life before -- now he's someone, something greater. but being barry allen, just a boy kissing another boy, that's a quiet moment of serenity he won't pass up on, gentle fingers at harrison's chin keeping him tilted just right, so barry can kiss and kiss and kiss, and have his fill of kisses, off the man that in another life would've been his mentor.
he doesn't think about eobard -- he tries not to think about eobard, at least. he shuts his eyes and takes vision away in light of feeling him, harrison, just slightly shorter but there enough that barry can make a gentle effort into pining him against the wall behind him, a solid chest knocking him back. the motion could be suggestive, or it could be desperate -- eager or wanton or sad or lonely, endlessly and impossibly filled with emotion that exudes itself in tucking harrison against the wall, slotting between his legs while barry kisses, and kisses and kisses. )
[Harrison hits the wall a little harder than expected, knocking just that much more breath out of him as Barry almost drinks him in. It's more than he expects, an escalation from their brief connection at Cisco's party, this is different, he can almost taste how much Barry needs something from him.
So he relaxes against the body crowded so close to him, one arm still tight around Barry's waist, the fingers at the back of his neck sliding forward to cup along his jaw, a thumb tracing the line of his cheek. There's no room for him to whisper, not yet, but there's nothing to say, not when everything is pouring out so clearly in this. There's nothing more for Harrison to do, yet, than let Barry have this.]
( it is different -- he isn't drunk this time, mainly, he's in charge of what he's doing. he knows what he's taking from harrison, pining him back and sucking on his lips, the familiar odd vibration of pent up emotion pressed in against him, more than a little wanton in this particular circumstance. teeth find harrison's flesh lower lip and bite him softly, eagerly, demanding something that he can't name, that he doesn't let them put words to yet. he just does, feeling it out, laying palms flat on the points of harrison's slender hips, and pushing his shirt just fractions of an inch higher, making his intent clear. )
[That vibration is familiar and it pulls a gasp from him, briefly wide-eyed as memories rise entirely unbidden, someone else melting into him like this, eager and wanting, the need coming through his skin with every touch. It's enough to have his hips shifting into Barry's hands with a low sound that could be a groan or a growl, or the barely-there whisper of a name, too muffled in the kiss to know.
There had been a fraction of this before, the realization that this was possible, but it's here now and Harrison hadn't realized how impatiently he'd been waiting for it. The roll of his hips and slide of his teeth against Barry's lip, those are enough to say yes without cluttering the room with words neither of them want to reach for.]
( he eats up that sound on Harrison's lips, immediately hungry for more of them to devour, a firstly slow and tempered kiss gaining passion, speed. whatever hesitation those wayward hands first expressed, they now grow bolder in climbing up the footfalls of harrison's ribcage, palming smooth but muscled skin with a vibrating touch, tempting and trusting. teasing, too.
for a man who can think a mile a minute, he wills his brain slower, not to think beyond the touch he presses against the body in front of him -- not his mother's murderer, not his sworn enemy, not anyone except another man he looks up to, and this time, this time, he's sure he won't be betrayed. he hopes he won't. maybe if he gives harrison something worth staying for, he won't leave barry like all the others.
even he can tell how pathetic that is. he still presses a firming cock against harrison's hip, thigh sliding between his legs the nudge at his own. )
[It's that shifting of Barry's hips that brings Harrison back to his senses. He blinks his eyes open, still a little dazed from the surprise of feeling Barry's hands vibrating against his skin and the memory it brings back, and his fingers slide to the back of Barry's neck as he pulls back just enough to whisper.]
Barry. Wait. [He keeps his arm tight around Barry's waist, not letting him move back, this isn't a rejection, this is only a pause. Because he needs to know, searching Barry's face.] I'm not him, Barry. Is that what you want?
( he says it immediately, almost unwillingly, still under the effects of having harrison near him and his arm holding tightly close. it's almost a painful innocence that his expression shows, big eyes looking up and down across harrison's features before he kind of -- realizes, what they're doing. realizes that he doesn't mind, hands slowing at his sides until it's a normal hold, thumbs strong on his ribcage. )
I-I mean. No, I just ... want ... ( he flushes and ducks down against harrison's neck, hiding his face away in sheepishness. ) You, I guess. I mean. Definitely, yes. Right? Is that bad?
action infinity no takebacks
Allen.
[It's not Mr. Allen. It's not Barry. Thawne had never just called him Allen.]
Doing okay over there?
spends the night never leaves lives on your couch
( might as well he honest about it. he shifts where he stands, more than a little uncomfortable, but grateful nonetheless. it's -- messed up, maybe he'll admit. he wants to be close to harrison. he wants that face to -- be a kind one, an apologetic one. he wants to see it in a positive way, the way he can look at eobard and only ever see something disgusting, something monstrous.
he takes a silent step forward. )
Are you going to roll your eyes or call me an idiot if I ask for a hug?
like the couch thing would last long
[After Cisco's birthday, he wouldn't have thought Barry would feel he'd need to ask for something like a hug, especially since that's why Harrison had assumed he was here. But he drops his arms open and motions Barry over.]
C'mere.
:3c how forward
fists ball up in the back of harrison's shirt. )
I got scared, ( he admits, after a few silent moments. )
it's practicality
There's a low-key ache behind his heart as Barry speaks, and Harrison nods briefly.]
That's fine. That's allowed.
the bed is so big and harrybarry sized
( murmured into his shoulder, half muffled by it. he's the flash, right? he isn't supposed to be scared of anyone, of anything, he's supposed to defend and protect and fight when necessary -- and he's supposed to win. it's what heroes do. they don't go running to the nearest set of arms they can find to burrow deep in an embrace that lessens the pain for awhile. he's supposed to have some higher plan, some solution that fixes everything.
barry's never been good at doing what he's supposed to. the echoing crack of zoom splattering his back on the floor still radiates a string of insecurity within him, a realization that he isn't good enough, no matter how hard he tries. zoom will still be faster, the reverse flash will still be more powerful. he'll still be barry allen, afraid to step outside of his house, nestling in against harrison like that's the best problem solver he could think of. )
for science try it out
[It's not angry, but it is a fiercely gentle whisper as Harrison's arm goes almost too tight for a moment. This boy, this young man has saved thousands of lives, and always he's so certain that he won't be good enough next time.]
You are. So. Convinced. You can't flinch.
an experiment needs lots of trials!!
( smaller voice now, he turns his face away, cheek mashed against his shoulder. he can't flinch. he can't be weak. he can't run to harrison whenever he needs to be comforted, told that he's brave and strong and indeed, a hero. he isn't. what has he done to prove it? allowed eddie to die so eobard could be stopped? twiddled his thumbs and waited for some clear all sign to get rid of zoom with? the world may be made of metahumans -- people like oliver and thea, people who bring good to the world and wear their hero pins with pride, if not humanity. bruce, clark, peter, gwen. heroes, good people, the people who defeat the bad guys, the people who win.
barry is just the guy who needs to be held. )
shh just come
As if enduring loss, surviving it and getting stronger from it is weak. But somehow, when Barry does it, it is.]
Fine. You can't flinch. Bend, then. And don't tell me you can't. You're a scientist. You know what happens when something doesn't move with its stressors.
climbs into lap
( it's just a fancier word, the implication is still the same. why other people can bend and flinch and break and get pushed to their limits while barry can't -- he isn't sure. it's just how it is. sometimes it feels like the world is lashing out at him, weighing on his shoulders with the importance of his universe and 52 other ones, and that's -- difficult, to bear. difficult but necessary. he doesn't have time to be upset. )
I can't let him think he has power over me. ( he grips harrison tighter, not sure if they're holding each other as lovers or as a son would hold his father -- maybe they just are, and maybe that's just enough. ) But he does.
pets hair
There's no other way to react, no other way he can react to the bleakness in Barry's voice, the way he's almost burrowed into Harrison's shoulders even as he whispers in the same breath that he can't do what he's doing right now.]
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( it sounds hollow, empty, a question he's so sick of asking. what can he do? how does he fix things? where's the dummy's guide for dealing with your time traveling, mother murdering, arch nemesis? nothing is probably the answer, there's nothing to be done and nothing to do, but barry is never content with that. for all his insecurities, at least he'll never stop trying.
he peels back a little, slithers a hand up to cup harrison's cheek. )
I'm sorry he has your face.
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He's still the man who had built Barry up to bring him down even harder and twisted the very definition of love, and it isn't fair that Barry should have to deal with him now. It's not a sentiment that does any good at all, but Harrison still thinks it to himself.] Yeah. Well. It was mine first and I've done more with it.
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I like it more on you.
( which definitely goes without saying, but you know. he still needs the words out loud, the you're the only one i need and i do need you, regardless of universes or how they were never meant to have met up. it means something regardless, it means everything, and much like cisco's party although without the alcohol definer, barry leans in and presses his mouth to him, a little desperate. finding the good still left in this city and searching for it in harrison. )
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The last thing he wants is to do something that will end up hurting Barry even more deeply.
But that doesn't mean he won't lean into the kiss, light and careful, the hand around Barry's waist tucking him in closer. Here, at least for a little while, there isn't anything Barry needs to save, nothing to sacrifice for, it's just them. He can just be Barry Allen.]
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he doesn't think about eobard -- he tries not to think about eobard, at least. he shuts his eyes and takes vision away in light of feeling him, harrison, just slightly shorter but there enough that barry can make a gentle effort into pining him against the wall behind him, a solid chest knocking him back. the motion could be suggestive, or it could be desperate -- eager or wanton or sad or lonely, endlessly and impossibly filled with emotion that exudes itself in tucking harrison against the wall, slotting between his legs while barry kisses, and kisses and kisses. )
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So he relaxes against the body crowded so close to him, one arm still tight around Barry's waist, the fingers at the back of his neck sliding forward to cup along his jaw, a thumb tracing the line of his cheek. There's no room for him to whisper, not yet, but there's nothing to say, not when everything is pouring out so clearly in this. There's nothing more for Harrison to do, yet, than let Barry have this.]
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There had been a fraction of this before, the realization that this was possible, but it's here now and Harrison hadn't realized how impatiently he'd been waiting for it. The roll of his hips and slide of his teeth against Barry's lip, those are enough to say yes without cluttering the room with words neither of them want to reach for.]
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for a man who can think a mile a minute, he wills his brain slower, not to think beyond the touch he presses against the body in front of him -- not his mother's murderer, not his sworn enemy, not anyone except another man he looks up to, and this time, this time, he's sure he won't be betrayed. he hopes he won't. maybe if he gives harrison something worth staying for, he won't leave barry like all the others.
even he can tell how pathetic that is. he still presses a firming cock against harrison's hip, thigh sliding between his legs the nudge at his own. )
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Barry. Wait. [He keeps his arm tight around Barry's waist, not letting him move back, this isn't a rejection, this is only a pause. Because he needs to know, searching Barry's face.] I'm not him, Barry. Is that what you want?
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( he says it immediately, almost unwillingly, still under the effects of having harrison near him and his arm holding tightly close. it's almost a painful innocence that his expression shows, big eyes looking up and down across harrison's features before he kind of -- realizes, what they're doing. realizes that he doesn't mind, hands slowing at his sides until it's a normal hold, thumbs strong on his ribcage. )
I-I mean. No, I just ... want ... ( he flushes and ducks down against harrison's neck, hiding his face away in sheepishness. ) You, I guess. I mean. Definitely, yes. Right? Is that bad?