Work Text:
He wasn’t sure what is was like to be picture perfect but he knew he didn’t fit the description...
He supposed he used to know, back when he chased pretty girls and picket fences - wanted an ideal family - the kind that put the Cleavers to shame but that was before... Before all of this - before everything - before the lab, meta-humans, and Jesse. He’d long since forgotten what picture perfect looked like but he caught a glimpse - just a taste - the day you walked into the lab.
So, introductions were made and Barry proceeded to explain the situation... He explained that you were a trustworthy friend of the one and only Felicity Smoak - somewhat of an apprentice, really - an occasional member of Team Arrow and that you were there to help. More specifically, you were there to help him close the breaches... With your combined knowledge - well blended - of science and engineering, Barry was sure the two of you could come up with a solution. You and Barry were positive but Wells wasn’t... In fact, it took a full forty minutes for Barry to convince him why the team needed this - why he needed this but even then he wasn’t convinced. He may have consented - resentfully - but he was far from convinced which made your exchanges awkward.
Harrison - Harry - preferred to work in silence and that was perfectly fine... Until it wasn’t. It just so happened that silence was boring and the more you were exposed to it, the more you felt like you were going to burst. Energy was practically licking its way up your spine and filling your lungs - clawing at your ribs and making you squirm. Hours of reticence had you agitated and bouncing in your chair which clearly annoyed him. Every time you shifted, he tapped his foot. Your feet would scuff back and forth over the tile and Harry’s neck would flex. Whenever you drummed your fingers over the desk, his posture would stiffen. But that wasn’t so bad...
It was the sighing that had him truly bothered. You sighed and it, without fail, caught his attention each and every time. His gaze would lift - flat and inimical - before clenching his jaw and diving back into whatever he had been doing previous to that brief moment of eye contact - that brief moment where he stopped pretending you didn’t exist.
It had been a week since you became an honorary member of Team Flash and aside from the small amount of interaction from Cisco, Barry, and Caitlin, you had pretty much been isolated and left to fend for yourself with this prick and since conversation was clearly not an option, you found yourself huffing more and more just to relieve the pressure of boredom and to get under his skin... Riling him up was actually rather fun considering the situation. If he was going to make you sit in silence, you were going to scrape away at his patience, one layer at a time... And it ended up working better than you thought because after a series of groans and gasps, he slapped a tablet - a tablet in which he’d been making notes - down against the worktop.
“Stop doing that!” He all but barked.
With wide eyes, you met his stare and watched flustered shades of red crawl up his neck... You knew it bothered him but you had no idea it was going to make him snap. Not that you thought it would take much for him to actually snap. Harry was wound tighter than a stray cat and, in certain situations, was almost as skittish as one.
You crossed your arms and frowned... “What the hell is your problem?”
“My problem? I don’t have...” He tried before huffing and biting against the inside of his cheek. “Never mind.”
Harry grumbled and shook his head before whipping himself in the direction of the glass-board to angrily scratch at its surface with a brightly colored dry-erase marker.
What was his problem? You knew exactly what was wrong with him... He had about a hundred different problems and you happened to be one.
“Sorry.” You muttered dryly, rolling your eyes and conceding defeat. That was fine... You could cut him a break even if he was a total dick. Besides, you liked a challenge and befriending a bad-tempered douchebag might have turned out to be a little fun.
By week two, you had basically determined that Harry Wells was shit with words... So, you took it on yourself to fill that void for him.You studied his body language and started picking up on his queues - those moments when he silently bid you to move - when he wanted you to pay attention to what he was doing or when he hovered over your shoulder to take a look at whatever you were working on.
Sometimes you even spoke... The conversation was one-sided, of course, but it was something for him to listen to whether he liked it or not.
“I’ve never actually had Big Belly Burger before...” You began.
Harry, who was sitting next to you with a screwdriver and a large piece of technology that resembled a battery, turned his head at the sound of your voice; rolled his shoulder and craned his head to the side like your sudden utterance gave him permission to move - as if your tone acted as a lubricant for his stiff muscles.
You didn’t usually have anything groundbreaking to say. Not really... You just said - did - whatever came to mind to fill the silence between you. You mostly shared memories, told him about your favorite season or favorite flavored ice cream, told him your ambitions; things you wanted to do or be before Felicity took you under her wing.
Harry did little more than grunt an acknowledgment whenever you paused but you had already decided he wasn’t good with words or people and certainly wasn’t good with you. In fact, you were positive he had absolutely no idea what to do with you. Sometimes, during your silence, you would sneak a peak in his direction to find him watching you... It was like he had something on his mind - right on the tip of his tongue - but it always seemed to disappear at the very last moment... As if he felt it wasn’t important after all.
Today was no different...
The aftermath of that look - that very unreadable expression - was always uncomfortable so, you punched through that strange wall by forcing yourself to speak for him... Typically your default was to focus on Star City or just explain where you came from - your childhood - anything at all about your past. It wasn’t much but you could see the tension lifting off his shoulders and chest like it was a physical thing that had been weighting him down. He would probably never admit it, but you were starting to suspect that you were growing on him.
“What about you?”
Harry looked straight at you and lifted an eyebrow. He had tolerated your babbling thus far but asking him to actually assist you in conversation might have been a touch too far.
“I’m...” He hesitated and stared. Then he tensed; whatever wall had been brought down had begun building itself back up. “It’s complicated.”
“Thats okay.” You shrugged and smiled, hoping to lighten the mood. “Complicated is interesting. Its real.”
“Real.” He repeated. His shoulders jerked through a snort before jabbing the screwdriver back into his battery. “Not my kind, I’m afraid.”
Your face fell into a frown... His kind of complicated was real. It was real and also a very twisted sort of fairytale all at once. Harry dodged conversation at all costs but you knew enough about him - enough to make him uncomfortable with the amount of information you had logged about his life. Barry told you everything; Earth-2, Zoom, the other metas, and Jesse. It was complicated... Very.
“Listen,” You started gently; low enough to make him tilt his head toward you just so he could hear. “I heard about - you know - your daughter.”
He tensed again and began gritting his teeth; his fingers digging - grinding - against the hardware in his hands. “Don’t.”
“I just... I’m sorry. That should never happen to a parent, especially you.”
You bit your lip and lightly grazed your fingers over his forearm. Harry jerked out from underneath your touch and abruptly stood; knees knocking against the table and chair screeching in protest - nearly falling over - as he scrambled to his feet. And then there was silence... Uncomfortable silence, once again, as he regarded you through a hard stare.
“Don’t.” He said again, voice low... bitter. “Don’t.”
Before you could actually respond - make an attempt to recover - or process exactly what happened, he was sweeping himself out of the room and stalking down the hall with his shoulders hunched and his hands buried in his pockets.
Jesse was a sore subject and you should have known that - you did know - but an irrational thought process urged you forward so you could...Could what? Bond? Let him know you were there? Let him know you understood?
You sighed and let your head drop to the table... Fuck.
The following evening you were back in that stuffy lab, only this time you were alone... Harrison hadn’t shown up and that would have been alright if you hadn’t pissed him off yesterday. And until he did decide to grace you with his presence, there was no way to rectify the situation. You couldn’t apologize - couldn’t even really think of a way to apologize tactfully - not without making him tuck tail and run out on you again.
So, you buckled down and threw yourself into research because that was the only thing you could do. But ugh... This shit was tiring. It was one thing to hack into a database, reprogram software, or even build a bomb but closing a rupture - a crack - that connected connected alternate universes was just... It was honestly just bullshit. You’d been pulling information - illegally - from government files, dusty books, and even Google when you were desperate. You kept that last part to yourself, of course, knowing Wells would get pissy over it.
Scratching your head, you continued staring at the glass-board before tapping the tip of the marker against it’s panel. The mathematical problem Harry had been working on was stretched across the length of the slab; written in different colors whenever his thought process reared and changed direction. Some of the marking were smudged in the places where he decided the answers were incorrect but overall it was the same as it was two weeks ago... How long had he been staring at this?
You snorted... You were smart but this might have been out of your league. Harry was brilliant, sharp, and resourceful. He had to be to get this far. Annoyingly enough, he was much brighter than you and this arithmetical riddle proved that.
“Hey.”
You jumped and all but knocked against the glass-board before whirling around to see Harry lingering in the doorway behind you. With one hand shoved in his pocket and the other wrapped around a paper sack, he stepped forward and placed the bag on your desk before letting go and staring at you. That same strange expression crossed his face and he inhaled as if he intended to say something... But once again, instead of just letting it out, he frowned, dropped his stare and decided to nudge the bag with his knuckles.
“I brought dinner.”
Your eyes dropped to the bag to see a bright red and yellow logo printed on the side:
Big Belly Burger
“You said you never had a chance to try it so...” His sentence dropped off, as if that was enough explanation - as if he didn’t need to make any more excuses for this gesture. “So, here.”
You smiled and started toward him before taking the sack and digging through it. There was a few different choices; two cartons of french fries - one curly and the other regular - about three different selections of specialty cheeseburgers and a salad which seemed to be thrown in just in case you weren’t much of a meat-eater. There was even a pint of chocolate ice cream...
“Thanks.”
He shrugged one shoulder and stared at the sack. “Just thought I should.”
It was then you understood... He was trying to apologize for running out on you yesterday. And yes, he was absolute shit when it came to verbalizing his emotions so, instead of poking and prodding or asking why, you reached out to touch his shoulder and gave him a light squeeze, allowing him to shift awkwardly under the contact - letting him off the hook - before grabbing the bag and holding it up.
“Did you eat?”
“Not yet.” He answered.
“There’s way too much food here.” You glanced at him... He was watching you with a barely-there smile curving the corner of his mouth. “Want to share?”
“Sure.”
It was an oddly warm night and you and Harrison ended up eating dinner on the roof; your legs dangling over the edge as you both stared at Central City’s skyline... And once the burgers were gone, you found yourselves sitting next to each other with that pint of ice cream between you so you could take turns dipping the rest of your fries into the now melted chocolate.
“Want to play a game?” You started.
Harrison’s head lulled in your direction before shooting you a wry look. “I’m too old for games.”
“You’re never too old for games.” You laughed. “C’mon...”
Pursing his lips into a hard line, he dipped another one of his fries into your ice cream and said, “Fine.”
“Okay... I’ll start by asking you a question and you have to answer honestly.” You smirked. “And then it’ll be your turn.”
“Okay.”
You thought for a second before saying, “Have you ever been cow tipping?”
Shocked that you would even ask, Harrison looked at you; a fry hanging out of his mouth before jerking his head back and forth... “No.”
“I just thought, maybe you had a little bit of country in that complicated background of yours.”
He rolled his eyes. “I guess its my turn.” And then there was silence...
“Having trouble?”
“You’ve been talking round-the-clock for the last two weeks.” He glanced over and frowned. “I think I know just about everything there is to know about you.”
“Guess that means I win.” You lifted your hand in the air; your palm facing him as an open invitation for him to give you a high-five.
He snorted and smirked but otherwise didn’t move. “You’re annoying.”
“The good kind, of course.” You teased, bumping your shoulder against his.
By the fourth week, he was a little more receptive when it came to conversation and even began making an attempt to be friendly. Every morning you walked through the door, he would barely acknowledge your presence other than a quick nod or grunt, but he would always pour you a cup of coffee and set it within your reach. Whenever you spoke, he’d listen - really listen - instead of trying to ignore you and busy himself by tinkering with some complicated piece of equipment. You weren’t sure what changed but you knew you had developed an odd sort of friendship with this man.
And then, by the sixth week, there was that day you were feeling homesick... You dragged yourself in and sat down at your desk; propping your elbows up and balancing your chin against your palm.
Harry, who was standing at the glass-board, quickly caught onto your wistful disposition and began scratching his marker at the top corner of the slab before clearing his throat to get your attention. You turned to find him pointing at the board’s newest addition... He’d drawn something silly; a stick figure illustration that was laced with witticism. The kind that went right over your head.
“Get it?”
You stared at it and shook your head, glancing back and forth between him and his stick figures... What?
With a smile, he crossed his arms and tilted his head toward the drawing. “I’ve got your back.” He finally explained.
You laughed because of course that made sense... And then he was doing it again; watching you with that strange expression - the one where he clearly had something on his mind but couldn’t find the right way to verbally express it. He swallow and drew in a breath... You weren’t expecting anything because every moment previous to this never got off the ground. He always backed down at the last second and dove back into his work.
But this time he actually said, “I do.”
“What?” It had been so low that you weren’t sure you’d actually heard.
“I do. I’ve...” He said louder, drawing in a breath; this time with determination. “I’ve got your back. So, if you need to talk about... Just, if you need to talk.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “We’re a team, right?”
“Right.” You said firmly, grinning at him. “We are.”
Later that evening, the two of you were back on the roof only this time there was no ice cream, no burgers, and no french fries; just you, Harrison and the city lights as you poured out your emotions and told him all about your home town... You weren’t from Central City - weren’t even from Star City - and with all the meta humans and craziness that Team Flash had to offer, you were starting to discover it wasn’t anything like the place where you grew up.
Harrison listened quietly as you explained some of your favorite places from your childhood, reminisced to way back when - those days you spent with your friends - anything and everything that had to do with your past; the good times and the bad... The reason you ended up in Star City and started getting involved with the wrong crowd - the right crowd, really - the crowd that made themselves heroes and ran through the dark with bows, arrows and idealism. It was noble but it took its toll... Harrison probably understood that better than most and by the time you’d wrapped up your little pity party, he had reluctantly reached out to place a comforting touch somewhere; either on your shoulder, possibly your back, anywhere he felt was appropriate but he let his hand fall at the very last moment and instead shoved into his pockets before turning toward the skyline to stare at the lights. Six weeks into this - whatever this was - and he still wasn’t sure what to do with you... There was something oddly adorable about that.
You snorted and shook your head... “Do you ever get home sick?”
He chuckled. “This earth’s Central City isn’t much different from mine.”
“Oh...”
“Although, we don’t have a Jitters on Earth-2.”
“Really?”
Harry looked at you and for the first time since you started working with him, he grinned brightly. You reciprocated the gesture, appreciating the way it seemed to take years off his appearance. Not that he looked old but the laughter lines by his eyes were inherently more attractive than his scowl and did give him somewhat of a youthful bounce. He looked happy and part of you wanted to believe it was because of you. “No... Jitters is everywhere.”
“Jerk.” You crinkled your nose and shook your head. “Home doesn’t necessarily have to be a place... It can be a presence or just something familiar; a feeling maybe. Do you have anything like that? Something you miss?”
Harrison was looking at you again - watching - his gaze shifting back and forth between your eyes. You suddenly noticed the stiffness in his shoulders, how his chest chest seemed to strain as if someone was gripping at him from the inside, his worried brow, and that jawline; how it had tightened.
“Jesse.” He breathed, his head dropping a bit so he could look at the ground. “My daughter... If there was something I would associate with home, it would be her.”
Maybe you should have seen that coming and left it alone but you didn’t and now here you were. You clenched your eyes and shook your head... For him to carry that weight around was just beyond you. Where did he even find the drive to get out of bed in the morning?
“You’re the strongest man I’ve ever met.” You said honestly... It just came out. You weren’t sure how or even why you said it but you knew you meant it.
After opening your eyes, you were met with his blue stare; deep and intense... His face was covered with that same expression - the one that seemed impossible to decipher - the one where he seemed to want to tell you something important but could never find the words to do so. You were beginning to think it had something to do with either conviction or anxiety but you couldn’t be sure. Something about it made you want to crush yourself against him; hold him close and let him know it was going to be okay... Whatever it was, he could tell you and it was going to be okay.
“I’m in love with you.” He finally forced out; gravelly and rough as if it was difficult for him to actually say.
You blinked, completely caught off guard; unable to take your eyes off Harrison as he continued watching you.
“I wasn’t...” He began through a whisper. “I wasn’t going to say anything because I know this is comp-” He paused before furrowing his brows in confusion as if he was searching for the right words. “Because I’m complicated. But... You make me want to start again. You make me feel like I can.”
There was a strange sort of detachment behind his eyes as if he was fighting a losing battle - as if he conceded because he needed to say it and this was his only chance - as if he was losing you by letting you know. Harrison had been through so many ups and downs it felt as if he had been built just to fall apart.
“I’m in love with you.” He said again, looking directly at you. “You’re my home.”
And then it was clear... All of it; as if everything had led up to this moment. Working late nights, gazing at the skyline from the roof while eating Big Belly Burger, those silly stick figures he’d drawn on the glass-board in order to cheer you up, and those looks - those looks he’d give you when he wasn’t sure what to say - the one he was giving you now... You’d finally decided what it meant. It had been him longing for something more - longing for you.
“I know you’re complicated. But...” You finally said. Taking a deep breath, you stepped closer and wrapped your arms around his shoulders; the action rendering him uneasy as he awkwardly pulled his hands from his pockets, unsure where to put them. “I’m in love with you too.”
And with that, he was coiling his arms around your waist - pulling at you just to get closer - pressing his face against your neck and inhaling like it was the first breath he’d taken since he told you.
Pulling your arms from his shoulders, your hands slid up his neck until your fingers were settling against his jaw and positioning face up so you could look at him. Then, something passed between you - something electrifying - and Harrison’s hands were suddenly threading through your hair; gripping and tugging as he tilted your head back. And as if he was holding back - keeping at his emotions at bay as he had been since the very first day you walked into his life - his lips brushed over yours tentative and unsure.
“It’s okay. I’ve got you.” You breathed, understanding that he was tired - with Jesse and Zoom - he was exhausted from bottling up. He was so fucking tired of walking through life with his eyes shut and right now, he needed a place to run - to crash - to fall apart. You could be that - for him - you could be anything he needed... You pecked his top lip and whispered, “It’s okay... Just take.”
So he did...
Still holding fast to your hair, he leaned over you and covered your mouth with his before gently nudging your lips apart with his tongue. And with one broad swipe, he was licking against the roof of your mouth, groaning and bending you back enough to hover - devour - pour everything into you. He sucked your bottom lip into his mouth and lightly bit before pulling and popping off just to take a breath and start again.
You fisted your grip into his jacket and pulled until your chest was flush against his... Maybe he wasn’t good with words and maybe he hadn’t done this in a while but with tongue and teeth he was going to make up for lost time. You were his home and even if he didn’t know it yet, he was yours. Together you could start again.
The End...