Archive of Our Own ^beta

“I don’t know when the right time I’m supposed to ask about this is. Even, like, in a normal relationship,” Cisco said, and Hartley raised an eyebrow. 

“Is this an abnormal relationship?” He tried to ask the question casually, like it didn’t bother him. 

“Well, it’s not-” he sputtered for a second, gesturing vaguely like he couldn’t figure out what to do with his hands. Hartley reached out and grabbed his hand, intertwining their fingers over the table. 

“I’m fucking with you,” he smiled. “What were you going to ask?” 

“Well, I- well, you know about my dating history-” 

“Unfortunately.”

“Hey!” 

Hartley laughed. “Sorry. Sorry.”

Cisco huffed in annoyance. “I don’t know… anything about you. Your dating history, your life outside of work. You don’t talk about that stuff.”

Hartley had seen that coming. He also had a response prepared. A story to tell. A boyfriend to make up. It was a story he’d told before (not to many people, he tried to avoid the subject at all costs). But it felt different, telling it to Cisco. Especially when his delicate tower of lies was one little nudge away from tumbling down if Harrison Wells so wished it to. And he wasn’t sure he wanted to open up that particular can of worms. “It’s boring,” he said instead, shrugging. 

“We’ve been together for almost two months,” Cisco said, and Hartley chewed on the inside of his cheek, wondering what the best way to change the subject was. “And your entire life outside of work is still a complete mystery to me.” When Hartley still said nothing, he continued. “I mean, I haven’t even been to your apartment.” 

Oh. Well, there was an easy subject change. 

Hartley should probably not be thinking of sex as an ‘easy subject change’. Especially given the fact that he and Cisco had not… done that, yet. “Do you want to?” Hartley asked anyway, as Cisco opened his mouth again.

“Sorry?” 

“Do you want to?” Hartley repeated, and let go of Cisco’s hand to pull out his wallet, flagging the waiter down and handing him his credit card. 

“Do I want to… see your apartment?” 

Hartley smiled, eyes flicking to Cisco’s neck, then to his lips, until he met his eyes again. “If that’s what they’re calling it these days.” 

“I- you-” Cisco sputtered. “You know you can’t convince me to change the subject this easily, right?” 

Hartley hummed, taking his card back and thanking the waiter before standing up. “So you… don’t want to see my apartment?” 

“I-” Cisco blinked a few times. “I’m not-” He made an indistinguishable noise, shaking his head. “You-” 

Hartley held out his hand, and Cisco only took about three more seconds before he grabbed Hartley’s hand and let himself be pulled up. Hartley leaned in and kissed him, smirking into it. Cisco retaliated by nipping his bottom lip, and Hartley laughed. “Come on.” 

Hartley drove them back to his apartment, occasionally glancing at Cisco during the drive to see him staring directly at Hartley every time. It was an… unusually quiet drive, for them, and Hartley was very hesitant to break the silence in any way. 

By the time he pulled up to his complex and, amazingly, found somewhere moderately close by to park his car, he was pretty sure this was the longest he and Cisco had ever spent in silence. He took his hand and led him upstairs, unlocked his door, and gave a dramatic curtsey to invite Cisco as he swung the door open, making him laugh lightly and breaking the tension. 

“Wow,” Cisco said, stepping inside and making a show of looking around the apartment, while Hartley walked up behind him, wrapping his arms around his torso. He felt Cisco shiver against his skin, and he hummed, breathing against his neck. “Look at this place,” he said, like Hartley’s apartment was the craziest thing he’d ever seen. 

Hartley laughed, pressing a kiss to the side of his neck. “It’s got a bedroom, too,” he murmured, feeling Cisco shiver again. 

Cisco hummed. “Impressive. King bed?”

“Of course,” Hartley responded, letting Cisco twist around in his arms to kiss him properly. “Nothing but the best for you.” 

“Dork,” Cisco said, fondly, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, before Hartley took his wrist and gently pulled him down the small, narrow hallway into the bedroom. Cisco paused in the doorway to glance around the room, taking in the bookshelves, the desk tucked in the corner next to a work table covered in tools and devices in various states of disrepair, and frowned a little. 

“What?” Hartley asked, crowding him against the wall, fingers dancing along the hem of his shirt as he went back to his neck, sucking a mark along his pulse point. 

“Nothing.” Cisco’s hands went to Hartley’s back, pulling him closer, until their bodies were flush. He blinked slowly, looking into Hartley’s eyes for a second, and for one, microscopic moment, they glinted bright, electric blue. Hartley felt his breath catch in his throat, and his hand tightened on Cisco’s hip. 

Then they were back to normal. He was normal. He was with Cisco. 

Hartley backed up, letting go of him and using it as an excuse to pull his sweater and undershirt off, and sat back on the bed, looking up at him through his lashes. 

“Oh,” Cisco said, softly, eyes flicking down his chest and back up again. He pulled his t-shirt off, climbing onto the bed, throwing one leg over Hartley and straddling him, his hands on Hartley’s shoulders, and Hartley pulled him in, running his hands up Cisco’s back, feeling the curve of his spine, up to his shoulder blades, and then back down again. 

He could hear the blood rushing through Cisco’s veins, his lungs expanding and contracting with every breath he took, the sound of his breath hitting Hartley’s skin, and despite how many months Hartley had lived with his hearing like this, he would never get used to that. He wasn’t sure if he liked it or not, being that in tune with someone’s body, practically reading Cisco’s thoughts by hearing his breath hitch microscopically as Hartley played with a curl of his hair, wrapping it around his finger and using it to pull him in for a kiss. 

His hand traced Cisco’s arm, finding the rough patch of skin where that long scar was, fingers dancing over it, and he felt Cisco smirk against his lips. “Wanna see it?” he asked, breath heavy. 

“You know I do.” 

Somewhere along the unprompted whispers of jealousy that nagged their way into Hartley’s mind—desires coursing from I want that to I want to put that in my mouth— and somewhere after, “Cisco, if you don’t start fucking my mouth, I might kill you,”, Hartley’s mind started to wander. 

He didn’t intend for it to. 

In fact, he very much wished it wasn’t happening, that Harrison Wells hadn’t been the first man to make him feel something in all of his miserable life.

He was really trying, with Cisco. 

Not… that he had to try. In that regard. 

Because sometimes Cisco’s hair would catch the light just right, and he’d twirl a strand of it between his fingers while chewing on the end of a pen, and it was all Hartley could do to not grab his shirt and push him up against the wall. Sometimes he would make a stupid joke and then laugh at himself, and his eyes would sparkle and Hartley would imagine what the look in his eyes would be when he-

So that wasn’t a problem. 

It was the trying to be normal, that was the problem. Hartley had never had a normal relationship. He’d tried, with Harrison (known it would be a failure, but tried anyway, because apparently Hartley Rathaway was a hopeless romantic like that). 

He wasn’t. 

A hopeless romantic, that is. 

He was someone who wasn’t afraid to express his feelings. 

It just so happened that those feelings usually tended to be annoyance and hatred, which made him seem… closed off. Repressed. 

He never intended to be that way. After everything he’d been through, everything he’d done, the persistent, unrelenting way in which he’d refused to be anything other than himself, he’d let Harrison Wells push him right back into hiding again. All because of a few compliments and a chess game. 

(Sometimes he wondered, if he were a woman, if Harrison would treat him differently. If he wouldn’t have hidden Hartley away the way he did. Then he hated himself for thinking that, and hated Harrison for treating him the way he had to make Hartley think that). 

But the point was, Hartley thought, as he pulled off, licked his hand clean, and stared into Cisco’s eyes the whole time (who said multitasking was impossible), he wanted to give Cisco normalcy. Wanted to give himself normalcy. He’d never had it before. But he’d tried, as hard as he could, to do things right. 

Aside from the lying. 

Aside from the lying, he was doing things right. 

Aside from the secrets, they were great. Normal, even. And this was normal, and Hartley was normal, and-

“Get up here,” Cisco murmured, “switch with me. I’ll return the favor.” 

Hartley did as he was told, capturing Cisco’s mouth with his, before he pulled away with a bit of worry on his face. “Cisco, you know I don’t have-”

“I know,” Cisco interrupted, as he pushed Hartley back on the bed and helped him out of the rest of his clothes before sinking to his knees, looking up at him as he did. “I’m still gonna suck it,” he said, and all of Hartley’s previous thoughts leaked straight out of his ears as Cisco did exactly that, leaning in, closing his mouth around Hartley’s clit, and sucking. 

“Oh. Fuck.”  

Hartley was pretty sure he saw god right then. His mind did not have the capacity to wander now, but it would, later, his thoughts going back to Harrison (Harrison had never done that—he used his mouth, sometimes, when he felt particularly generous, but never like this).  

When it was over, Cisco rolled back onto the bed, massaging his jaw a little. “Okay,” he said, after both he and Hartley had caught their breath. “What shitty boyfriends have you had that never gave you a blowjob?” 

Hartley didn’t answer, just rolled over and slotted his leg between Cisco’s, humming softly. “All of them, apparently.” 

Cisco laughed, closing his eyes and pressing a kiss to Hartley’s neck. “Tell me about one of them.” 

He sighed, combing his fingers through Cisco’s hair. “I never had time to date when I worked at S.T.A.R.,” he said, finally. And it wasn’t technically a lie. 

“Ah,” Cisco said, like he’d suddenly figured something out, and pulled back to look at Hartley, blinking his eyes open. “I should’ve figured that.”

Hartley blinked at him. “What?” 

“You know there’s no shame in that, right, dude? Look, if I had half as much game as you have-” he paused, briefly, putting his hand up as if to prevent Hartley’s response, of which he had none anyway, “-which you can have, as much as I hate to admit it, I’d be hooking up with people left and right.” 

Oh. That was what he thought Hartley was saying. 

That Hartley had never been in a long term, committed relationship before. 

His reluctance to talk about his past relationships was because he was embarrassed to admit it. 

And Hartley was not above taking that as his out. 

Before Harrison, it was true, anyway. And Hartley hadn’t enjoyed most of it. The men he let fuck him were… not particularly caring of Hartley’s enjoyment, or particularly into the idea of treating him like a man. 

“To clarify, I was never hooking up with people left and right,” Hartley said, finally, and Cisco laughed, kissing Hartley’s neck again, and Hartley tried not to feel bad, because he wasn’t technically lying. He hadn’t told the story of his fake boyfriend from college who dropped out of his psychiatry major to become a firefighter and eventually moved away to Seattle and ended up getting together with his childhood best friend during his and Hartley’s attempts to work out a long distance relationship (it was a very elaborate story, it was honestly kind of a shame Cisco would never hear it). 

“My point is, it’s okay. I would never judge you,” Cisco said, interrupting Hartley’s thoughts. 

Hartley didn’t respond to that, because he knew, if Cisco knew the truth, he would. Of course he would judge. But Hartley wasn’t going to tell him the truth, because he had no reason to ruin what they had, and that was that. And Cisco fell asleep with his head on Hartley's chest, and Hartley got to comb his fingers through his hair and listen to his heartbeat, and you couldn't force him to ruin this with anything in the world.