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Ever since that night Barry had felt conflicted, a tangle of emotions and a ball of repressed frustration. His mind replayed the kiss often, he remembered the feeling of having Harrison crushed against his body, he remembered swirling tongues and bitten lips and he remembered how quickly the other man had dismissed him.
The pain had lingered for weeks, gnawing at him like termites on wood. He tried to bury his feelings, like he’d tried with Iris and it had only annoyed him further. He was in love with two people, two people he couldn’t have. Iris was an old ache and a love he’d long accepted as all but unrequited, but Harrison? Harrison had kissed him back and gripped at his hair like his life had depended upon it.
Kissing Harrison had felt like he’d been struck by lightning a second time, his body had thrummed with energy and his skin had tingled at the tantalising touch. The kiss had been static with salience, every touch, however brief, had turned his neurons into fireworks. His mind had lit up with arousal and possibility, his skin had become clammy and his control had started to fray at the edges.
And then Harrison had pushed him away. His touch has grown cold and his eyes had stared into the distance as if imagining their choices laid bare before them, and as quickly as the kiss had come it had vanished without a trace. Almost as if their relationship was marker on a whiteboard, something to wipe away when convenient.
After that night Barry had tried to ignore the feelings he had for Harrison and channel them into his work as The Flash, it had worked until it hadn’t. When he realised Harrison was him, his world had shook beneath his feet and had evaporated, as if the ground he had been standing on had been made out of ice.
Harrison Wells, no, Barry had never known Harrison at all, Eobard Thawne was the Reverse Flash. He was the man who had killed his mother, the man who had killed and hurt so many others; he was a liar, a thief and a murderer. And a part of Barry, a part of him he wanted to smother, a part of him he wanted to ignore, still loved him.
And it only hurt so much more to see him calmly pace the inside of his cell. Harrison’s eyes were dark and he’d been stripped of the yellow suit that had plagued Barry’s nightmares since that very first night after he’d been beat to a pulp on the green grass of that stadium pitch.
“Hello, Barry.” He greeted with a soft but amused tone.
“Harrison.” Barry hissed as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Or should I say Eobard Thawne.”
Eobard grinned and leaned a shoulder against the glass. “I knew he would tell you, but just how much did he tell you?”
Barry frowned and he felt himself shift in place, moving awkwardly on the balls of his feet. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Eobard’s smile grew sharper, and his teeth glinted ominously against the squared backdrop of blue. “Now, Barry we both know you’re smarter than that.” He paused and gave Barry an unreadable look. “I told him about you and me, about our little chess game gone awry.”
Barry stilled in shock and clenched his fists in anger. “Why would- no.” He cut himself off and took a deep breath. “I know exactly why you would. All this time you’ve wanted to hurt me. You’ve hurt innocent people, you’ve killed people; you’re doing this because you can, because you want to.”
Eobard frowned and placed his fist against the window. “What I’ve done I’ve done out of necessity, if that were false I would have killed far more than a hand full. In war there are often casualties.”
“Is that what my mom was? A causality? Is that why you killed her?”
For a time Eobard was silent, but after a moment he gave what looked like a sad smile and said simply. “I hate you.”
Barry’s heart seized inside his chest and his eyes widened. “What?”
“I killed her, Barry, because I hate you. She died, like so many, because of your actions, or rather inaction.”
Barry shook his head and glared at the trapped man, he felt anger rush through him. “I’ve done nothing to you!” He shouted as he stood mere inches from the glass. “I respected you, I loved you!”
Eobard chuckled and moved closer to where Barry stood, he looked down at Barry from his lashes and laughed again. “And it was fun, a truly educational experience to see how far you could fall. All this time I could have done anything to you and you would have begged me for it, all the while ignorant of whom you’d entrusted your heart to.”
“But you didn’t, you didn’t do a thing.”
The other speedster cocked his head and flashed Barry a predatory smile of blinding, mischievous, white. “Why do you think that is, Mr Allen?”
Barry smirked and tapped at the window with his index finger. “You thought I’d see through you. You’re not a good enough liar to fake an entire relationship.”
The other man shook his head incredulously. “Oh Barry, how naïve you are. This game of cat and mouse, I’ve enjoyed it far more than I should have. If I’d touched you, if I had allowed myself to take you, to claim you that way, neither of us would be standing here now. Hate and love are not all so different that I cannot experience both.”
“I, I don’t understand.”
In an instant Eobard’s face softened and Barry was immediately reminded of Harrison Wells in his more kinder moments. “You never did.” He paused as he caught sight of Barry’s bewildered expression. “And I doubt you ever will.” He said with a humorless laugh.
Barry clenched and unclenched his fists, he breathed harshly on the glass and the cold air caused the pane to fog underneath his touch. “I don’t know what I did, I don’t know what I will do to you, but this has got to stop.”
“Then Barry, I’ll stop. I’ll stop all of this, if you just open this cell and let me free.”
“And let you continue your plan?” Barry replied. “No, I’m not going to let you trick me, not again.”
Eobard smiled. “Just remember that I gave you a chance.”
Barry huffed a, almost, hysterical laugh and ran a hand through his already disheveled hair. He shook his head. "I'm done with you." He told the other man as he made his way closer to the exit.
“It’s more than you ever gave me.”