Work Text:
fic art by @birdletss on tumblr
“Is no one worried that Hazard's bad juju isn’t still in the air? No one? Just me?” Cisco spun in his chair. There was a stress ball in his hand that was rapidly becoming a stress circle.
From across the room, Harry groaned and replied, “There’s no such thing--”
Cisco threw the stress ball at him, nailing him dead center mass. After he was done cackling and wiping more than a few tears from his eyes, he yelled, “Nevermind! We’re good!” His stomach hurt from the force of his laughter.
Before Harry could retaliate, there was that telltale yellow lightning. Cisco held down his papers; Harry’s notes weren’t so lucky. Cisco was trying to work out an equation concerning residual dark matter as compared to grumpiness levels when Barry started clapping.
“Team meeting! Speed Lab!” Barry whooshed away only once he got an ‘okay’ from both men.
Cisco stood to turn off the computers. He gathered his coat from the back of the chair, played with the zipper, and finally looked up at Harry. “Are you coming?”
“In a minute.”
Harry’s back was to Cisco. He was staring at the bus meta chart, one hand clasped around the back of his neck, the other around a marker. The papers he’d just been holding were scattered around his feet. Cisco wanted to offer to help. He didn’t. Instead, he shrugged and left.
Of all the things Cisco anticipated in the Speed Lab, he hadn’t guessed there would be a makeshift bar and party lights when he arrived. There were bowls of chips and pretzels on the desks, the desktop monitor screensavers had been changed from black to multicolored patterns, and someone had brought a few couches in. Caitlin stood behind the bar, pouring shots. Barry and Iris were dancing while lights flashed and a playlist blasted from an iPhone. It was a totally lame party, and it was also perfect.
“Let’s have some fun, this beat is sick,” Lady Gaga sang over the speakers. The bass thumped all around the room.
“Hell yeah!” Cisco called, smiling widely.
Everyone cheered. Cisco joined Iris and Barry on the floor, the three of them trying to outdo each other for most ridiculous moves. A Speedster doing the worm was a sight to behold.
Caitlin beckoned them all to the bar, where she’d lined up five shot glasses, surgically cut limes, and a salt shaker. Cisco grabbed his and threw it back. It burned, and he gasped into a laugh as he encouraged his friends to drink theirs.
While he was distracted, a hand snuck around his waist. Cisco leaned into the touch without thinking. Only when Harry spoke did he realize he was intruding pretty heavily on the guy’s personal space.
“Ramon.” Harry cleared his throat, amused. “I’d like that shot.”
Cisco was having a difficult time connecting his brain and body. He finally managed a weak “Uh-huh.” as he tried to move down the bar.
Harry, however, had other ideas. He threw his free arm around Cisco’s shoulders as he took his first shot, then gestured at Caitlin to pour them another round.
She grinned at them, then pointedly looked away, allowing them a private moment. Cisco turned in Harry’s arms so he could meet his eyes. Then, he grabbed Harry’s hand, licked a stripe down the side, and tipped the salt shaker onto it.
Harry raised an eyebrow. He couldn’t hide the hunger in his eyes, though, especially once he took hold of Cisco’s hand to mirror the action. Once they were set up, Harry winked at Cisco. They drank. A bolt of electricity hit Cisco’s rib cage, fast and hot, and he set his glass down quickly before he could drop it.
Whatever game they were playing, Cisco was losing.
His head was warm and fuzzy, and he had half a mind to melt against Harry and stay there for the rest of the evening. But Harry took Cisco by the waist and propelled him toward the group, his chuckles trailing softly under the music.
Sweaty and smiling, Barry and Iris were curled together on the couch. Iris’ eyes were bright with mischief as she requested they all sit down. Cisco smiled and did as he was told, pulling on Harry’s arm so he would sit on the ground with him. Harry grumbled but complied.
Caitlin came over with more drinks in hand. Her time as a bartender had really paid off; she gave Harry his favorite beer, Iris a frosty yellow cocktail, and finally placed another shot in front of Cisco.
“This is sabotage!” Cisco happily accused her of this even as she raised her own tequila and toasted him. The pair gulped them down, hissed, and then broke into hysterical giggles. When Cisco fell slightly into Caitlin’s outstretched arms, Harry’s hand came to rest on Cisco’s thigh, grounding him.
“I have an idea,” Iris announced abruptly, perfectly manicured nails moving up and down her fiance’s arm. “Who wants to play Truth or Dare?”
Barry’s hand shot into the air immediately. Once the team was done mocking him, they all agreed to play. Harry was the only wildcard; Cisco expected him to declare the whole thing a waste of time and leave them all to their shenanigans. Instead, Harry tightened his grip on Cisco’s thigh and answered, “Why not?”
Which was how Cisco ended up sitting in Harry’s lap while they watched Barry do ten rounds on the Speed Lab track as fast as possible without superspeed. By five he was cursing at them. By eight, he looked like he might cry. Cisco definitely recorded the way he tumbled down the ramp at the end and uploaded it to the cloud before Barry could delete the footage.
Barry was gross and drippy when he collapsed, exhausted, right onto Iris. She squealed, throwing her arms up in defense, but eventually succumbed to his disgusting kisses.
“Alright, alright! Enough!” Cisco yelled good-naturedly. “Iris’ turn.”
Barry extracted himself with his usual lack of grace and turned to her. He asked the question like it was The Question, sans the alleged serenade that had happened at the actual event. “Iris West,” he murmured, “Truth or Dare?”
“Truth.”
“Okay! Who…” Barry cast his gaze around the room, deep lines indenting his forehead and his mouth open wide as he considered the rest of his sentence. “Who is the sexiest person here?” He accompanied the word ‘sexiest’ with a little eyebrow wiggle that made Cisco choke on his--no, Harry’s--beer. He’d lost track of his own drink during Barry’s run.
Iris sat up to better survey her options: Caitlin with her shy smile, Barry with his puppy-dog eyes, Cisco with his peace sign, and Harry with his don’t-pick-me frown. And she obviously picked Barry, but it was adorable to watch him fidget while she pretended she might not.
“Cisco!” Iris declared once she and Barry were done sharing another gag-worthy, super-romantic kiss.
Opening his arms wide, Cisco replied in his best Medieval Knight impression, “I am ready to heed your commands, my queen.”
“Dare, then.”
Cisco nodded. His stomach was full of butterflies. He bit his lip, face flushed, suddenly very aware of how close Harry was, and how Harry was watching him while he spoke. Mouth dry, Cisco answered with a small, “Mmhm,” and waited for Iris’ decree.
There was something very evil about the way Iris tilted her head at him. Cisco lived in a state of animalistic fear as she pointed at him and said, voice syrupy sweet, “I dare you to let me give you a new hairstyle.”
Caitlin and Barry gasped. Harry snorted, then hid the sound in his hand when Cisco glared.
“Iris. West.” Cisco dragged the name out of his teeth. “You can’t be serious.”
“Is that a forfeit?”
Cisco considered that. If he passed the first dare, he had to complete the second dare, no chickening out allowed. Either Iris was bluffing and this was her riskiest request, or she had another scarier challenge up her blouse sleeve.
“...Okay. Do your worst.”
A pin drop would have sounded like an explosion in the silence that followed. Iris stood, walked to her purse, and rummaged around in it. Panic surged in Cisco’s heart while he imagined those contents, scissors being the chief concern.
Harry ran his thumb across Cisco’s wrist. “Relax,” he whispered, which only served to send Cisco’s pulse racing. He was a second away from passing out when Iris came back and showed him a few different colored hair ties.
“Red, blue, or yellow?”
Cisco exhaled. “Red.”
So, Iris braided Cisco’s hair while they continued the round. He sat cross-legged in front of the couch while she worked. The motion was incredibly pleasant and reminded Cisco of when his mother used to plait his long hair before school sometimes.
From across the team’s little seating area, Harry was looking at Cisco. Like, looking him up and down multiple times looking. Cisco mouthed ‘what?’ and only got a smirk in response. He flipped Harry off. Harry’s shoulders shook with silent laughter.
Harry, of course, had only picked Truths. So had Caitlin. She was up again, sticking her tongue out at Barry when he complained about her repeatedly safe choices.
“Who was the last person you kissed?” Barry asked.
Caitlin opened her mouth and ice came out. “Oh, crap,” she said. Then her eyes started glowing. Cisco blinked and Caitlin was gone, replaced with the cool, sparkling presence of her alter-ego Frost.
“Caity’s so boring tonight,” Frost complained. Her voice warped, somehow simultaneously cold and full of a warm, sisterly contempt. “Dare me, please.”
“Gotta finish Caitlin’s Truth,” Cisco contended around a mouthful of pretzels. He leaned too far forward to meet Frost’s eyes, and Iris yanked him back into place. “Ow,” he griped, just for her. Then, louder, he repeated his nonsensical ultimatum, mainly because he was curious how the other half lived.
Frost shrugged, clearly unimpressed by Cisco’s antics. “Amunet,” she replied easily. “Dare time.”
The room erupted. While Frost stood, Cisco was yelling, “Hold up!”, Barry was gaping like a dead fish, Iris was begging for more details, and even Harry seemed taken aback, finishing his beer in one quick swig to better focus on the drama unfolding before him.
“I told the truth. Isn’t that how this stupid game works?” Frost crossed her arms. “Next round. And nothing boring.”
Four faces peered expectantly at Cisco. “Oh damn,” he exclaimed, realizing the burden of fun rested solely on him. “Okay. Lemme think.” Alcohol usually dumbed Cisco down a little, but that night, it gave him a great idea. He jumped to his feet proudly, ignored the instant dizziness, and marched over to Frost.
“That’s a lot of posturing, little man. Don’t disappoint me.”
“I dare you,” Cisco crowed, “to make an ice slide off the S.T.A.R. tower roof and then go down it.”
Barry’s fingers closed around Cisco’s bicep. “Dude, that’s kind of--”
“Perfect,” Frost finished for him. “That’s kind of perfect. I’ll be right back”
“Noooo,” Cisco drawled. “No way. We’re coming with you.”
“Suit yourselves.”
Team Flash stumbled upstairs with so much drunk and disorderly conduct they would have been arrested elsewhere. Luckily, Harry was sober enough to suggest the elevator for the rest of the ride up; with the way he pressed himself against Cisco, however, Cisco wondered if safety had ever been the main concern in that decision.
Cisco hadn’t doubted Frost’s abilities, but imaging a 200-plus-foot tall ice slide and actually witnessing the construction of one was pretty mind-blowing.
Twisting from the roof and looping a few times, the slide was magnificent. It was also really damn cold. Cisco shivered despite his jacket as he looked at the giant, serpentine structure. It began at Frost’s feet and ended on a soft, grassy patch of ground. The parking lot lights were the only reason it didn’t vanish into the night.
“You got mad skills, Frosty.” Cisco high-fived her and hoped she didn’t see when he had to shove his freezing cold fingers in his armpit.
Frost looked at her friends, winked, and then leaped onto the slide. Her delirious, joyful weeeee followed her all the way down. And Cisco, who was far too tipsy to see someone have fun without him, shouted, “Last one down is a rotten egg!” before throwing himself after her.
Wind whipped his braids against his face. The effect was sobering yet delightful, and he chased that high right until he tumbled off the edge and into the grass. He laid on his back, the breath knocked out of him, while Frost laughed a couple feet away.
She laughed even harder when Barry landed on Cisco.
To no one’s surprise, Iris and Harry did not take the slide. They all met back in the Speed Lab, where the dull pair had cleaned up in their raucous friends’ absence. Barry pulled Iris into his arms and kissed her. Cisco stared at Harry for a long time, long enough that Caitlin had to snap her fingers at him to get his attention.
“Wha--hey, Caitlin!”
“Frost says our clothes have to be dried off, and she won’t do it. Want a ride home?”
Cisco tore his eyes away from the back of Harry’s head. “Yeah. Yeah, let’s go,” he said. “Thanks.”
The next morning, and really the entire day, Cisco nursed himself back to life from the worst hangover he’d had since college. He was grateful it was the weekend, because any meta attack would have been met with the most ill-equipped team the city had ever seen if the Team Flash (minus any and all Wells) group chat was any indication.
I think Frost gave me an ice burn.
Guys help :( Iris told me to go to a dog park and run off all my ‘extra energy’
Cisco just texted back, Cisco’s brain isn’t here right now. Leave a message.
He spent Sunday at his parent’s house for a family dinner. Watching them bicker over the table didn’t help him avoid all his drunken memories of lingering touches, heated glances, and stolen drinks.
Monday was made of extra coffee and soon-to-be-broken promises Cisco made to himself to never touch tequila again.
When Cisco saw Harry in the cortex, he almost spilled his to-go cup. Scowling, he set it down on his desk and crossed his arms. Harry had no business wearing that tight sweater. He had to answer for his crimes.
“Good morning!” Caitlin called on her way in. She took one look at Cisco, his arms crossed and eyes narrowed suspiciously, and asked, “What’s up?”
“He never finished the game.”
“What!” Barry gasped, scandalized.
By then, the whole team had wandered into the room. Barry slid into a wheely chair and rolled all the way across the room to run into the glass board that Harry was staring at. Harry hummed slightly but otherwise didn’t react.
Cisco trudged through the order they’d established for Truth or Dare. Friday’s occurrences were a little hazy, but Cisco’s confidence in his accusation was unshakable. “Harry had a turn after Frost. He never took it.”
Finally, Harry looked up from his notes. He set his marker down. That should have been Cisco’s first clue; in any other instance, Harry would have thrown the thing.
“Ramon,” he growled.
Jutting his chin out triumphantly, Cisco replied, “What,” with an emphasis on that final consonant.
“Frost gave me my final Dare.”
“Absolutely not!” Cisco countered. “You only picked Truth!”
Harry took a step toward Cisco, then another. Everyone else was stuck in place like they’d resumed game night with freeze tag. Cisco watched it all happen in slow motion.
Stopping right in front of Cisco, Harry repeated, voice low and clipped, “Frost. Gave me. My final Dare.”
He grabbed Cisco’s shoulders, caging him in like he always did when he wanted to tell Cisco off. Cisco tilted his head back, defiant, but lost that courage when Harry loomed closer still. Cisco blushed. He smiled nervously, sputtering, “I don’t believe y--”
Harry kissed him. It was soft and quick and framed by a complacent grin. Harry’s eyes were bright with affection as he pulled away.
Cisco licked his lips. “Uh,” he whispered. “She dared you to--”
“Mm.”
“And you just--”
“Mm.”
Cisco frowned. “But not only because--”
Rolling his eyes, Harry leaned forward to kiss Cisco again, the second time much longer and far more heated. Cisco heard Barry and Iris yelling at them to get a room, and he heard Frost’s icy ‘you’re welcome' before white hair became brown once more.
And if anybody had asked Cisco, the truth was: he’d never been happier.