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Of course - of course - Harry is the one who finds Cisco.

Harry is half-tempted to walk out of the bar. Wander the streets, go back to the labs empty handed, or maybe just step in front of a speeding car. Anything but slide through the crowd and try to pull a sex drugged Cisco from the man he’s currently hanging all over.

He has a daughter to save. A world to get back to. He can’t deal with this.

Then he sees the man lean to whisper in Cisco’s ear, lips brushing Cisco’s skin, and Harry’s lizard brain kicks into overdrive.

He pushes past several groups, careful to keep from touching any of the couples that are shamelessly groping each other. The pollen, Caitlin called it, isn’t spread by touch, but Harry is erring on the side of caution. It would be his luck for both he and Cisco to end up infected.

“Excuse me,” he says when he finally gets close. The stranger turns an ice glare to him. Cisco beams, beautiful and giggling.

Harry has the worst luck.

“Harry!” Cisco says, turning in a quick circle so he can reach out. He slides one arm around Harry’s shoulders, keeping the other one wrapped around the stranger. Harry grits his teeth. “This is Harry. He is so smart. And handsome. Look at how blue.”

Harry wonders if Cisco is drunk on something other than the pollen as Cisco shifts to pat his cheek. His fingertips are warm on Harry’s cheekbone.

“Hello Harry,” the stranger says, slow and cold. “It’s always so nice to meet Cisco’s friends. Now, if you’ll excuse us...”

“Cisco. You haven’t introduced me to your new…” Harry drags his gaze up and down the man. He's unimpressed and makes it clear. “Acquaintance.”

“Oh! This is Captain Cold.” Cisco pats Cold’s chest for emphasis. He gets distracted, apparently, by the feeling of pectoral muscles under his palms. Harry watches his throat as he swallows.

“That’s a neat name.” It's vaguely familiar, but unimportant. Harry wraps his hand around Cisco’s wrist, removing Cisco’s heat from his face, pulling Cisco’s attention back to him. “Time to go to S.T.A.R. Labs now.” 

“I gave him that name,” Cisco slurs, but allows himself to be pulled closer to Harry’s body. He’s practically boneless, warm and pliant. “He was the first villain I named.”

Cisco’s smile is wide and soft. Harry needs to get them away from Captain Cold and back to the lab. The lab has the team, and hopefully an antidote, and other people who are Not Him for Cisco to hang over. 

“I was,” Captain Cold says, taking Cisco’s other arm in his hand. His grip is gentle but firm. He leans in, whispering against Cisco’s cheek. “I've never thanked you for that, kid. I'd very much like to.”

Cisco shivers. His mouth is an open, wet pink, and his eyes are sugar glazed. He sways towards Cold. Harry isn’t above using force right now, so he yanks Cisco against him. Cold loses his grip and Harry wraps his arms around Cisco’s shoulder, effectively trapping Cisco’s body and shielding him from other hands. 

Cold rises to his full height. “The kid has already decided who he wants to go home with, old man. I’d take a step back if I were you.”

It’s the kid that incenses Harry more than anything. Cisco is a kid. Both he and this Cold are too old – not to mention too jaded, too cracked – for someone as young and sweet natured as Cisco. Harry’s grip tightens.

“Hey,” Cisco says, turning in his arms so he’s facing Cold. His hair is directly under Harry’s nose and Harry breathes through his mouth. His hands rest on Cisco’s biceps, holding him. “Don’t talk about me like I’m not here.” 

Cold looks at Cisco, ignoring Harry completely. “I’m sorry. No way I could forget about you, baby.”

That has Cisco swaying again, practically falling into Cold, and Harry pulls him flush against his chest. 

“Wow. Your chest is. Hard.” Cisco peers at Harry through half lidded eyes. Harry glances down, taking in the black of Cisco’s eyes and the fan of his lashes against his cheekbones when he blinks. He immediately looks away.

“If you’re looking for hard, baby – ” 

“Okay.” Harry snaps, because he’s hot with disgust and other things, including a squirming Cisco, and it’s time to go. “Ramon. You realize you’re drugged, right? Ramon?”

Harry dares to glance at Cisco. His gaze is accidentally drawn to Cisco’s full mouth. He looks away but not in time to avoid Cold’s dark chuckle.

“So that’s how it is. Seems we have ourselves a little love triangle here.”

“Oh, no.” Cisco is giggling again, shaking his head, rubbing Harry’s chin with his hair. It tickles. “Harry – this guy. This guy doesn’t want to fuck me.”

Harry bristles. He’s never heard Cisco say the word fuck in this particular meaning before, in this octave. Something hysterical tries to climb through his throat. He kills it by gripping Cisco tighter.

Cisco, oblivious, tips his head forward and drops his voice into what he must think is a whisper. “Harry doesn’t like me very much.”

Cold leans forward, a few breaths away from Cisco’s mouth. “Well I like you very much.”

“I know,” Cisco whispers, like it’s a secret. “And you’re so pretty.”

“It’s time to go,” Harry repeats.  

“Why don’t we let Cisco decide who he wants to go with?”

“Because he’s drugged, Cold. I don’t know if you’re aware of what’s been happening in this city but there’s a pollen – ”

“Overstimulating the sexual centers of people's brains and lowering inhibitions.” Cold waves his hand dismissively. “Old news, Harry.”

Harry digs his fingers into Cisco’s arms. He ignores the pained whimper that goes straight to his dick.

“So you know this is wrong.”

Cold shrugs. “It’s nothing he hasn’t wanted before.”

Before Harry can respond, Cisco slurs, “True. Very true.”

Harry glares into the back of Cisco’s head until Cisco turns to meet him. He offers an inappropriately happy grin.

“See?” Cold says.

“Do you – I mean, he’s so pretty. Are you seeing? Sure, he’s kind of  evil. But he’s smart. Not as smart as you, but he took my gun apart.”

“I don’t want to know if that’s a euphemism – ”

“His ice gun,” Cold supplies. “He built it, I stole it. But I figured out how it worked.”

“And that’s why I call him Captain Cold. Get it?” 

“I got it,” Harry grits. “You stole one of Ramon’s inventions to commit crimes?”

Cisco sags a bit in his arms then. “Yeah. I shouldn’t have built it in the first place. Do you know what that’s like?” He tilts his head onto Harry’s shoulder, revealing the long line of his throat. “To build something and have it be used to hurt people?”

Harry does, but he doesn't want to think about it. He wants to pet Cisco’s neck. Wants to settle his palm feather light over Cisco’s Adam’s apple and hold, gentle, feeling Cisco breathe and gasp.

“Why don’t I get you back to the lab, okay Ramon?”

Cisco shakes his head. “I need.” He squirms in Harry’s arms. “I need, Harry, you don’t understand.”

“I do,” Harry promises, keeping his voice soft. He does.

“You do?” Cisco blinks, owlish and young.

Harry bites his cheek, reminding himself how young, exactly. “Yes,” he breathes. “I understand exactly. That’s why we have to go back to the lab.”

“Are you going to fuck me there?”

Blood rushes from Harry’s brain to his dick. He pulls his hips back, trying to keep the hard line from Cisco’s back.

“No,” Cold answers in the pause of Harry’s pain. Harry’s jaw twitches. Cisco swings his head in Cold’s direction. “He’s not going to fuck you, or touch you, or give you anything you need.”

“Why?” Cisco whines, pitiful.

“Because Harry here, and all your little friends at S.T.A.R. labs, they just want to put medicine in you.”

Cisco shakes his head. “That’s not what I want in me.”

Harry groans and feels a migraine pounding in the same time as his arousal. Cold takes a step forward, bold, as if Harry isn’t a long line of tension keep Cisco standing.

“I know, baby,” Cold says, pitching his voice low and velvet. “You want my tongue in you, don’t you?”

“Holy fuck, yes,” Cisco pants, surging against Harry’s grip.

Cold smirks. “And my fingers, too?”

“Your fingers are so long,” Cisco says. He’s twisting in Harry’s hands, all sinew and heat and want. “And thick. Is your – are you like that everywhere?”

Cold is plastering himself to Cisco’s front, trapping Cisco between them, pushing Cisco into Harry’s body. Unthinking, Harry yanks Cisco closer. He feels his erection press into Cisco’s lower back. He hears Cisco’s gasp. A deep, pleased moan leaves Cisco’s lips, and he pushes intentionally back into Harry’s hips.

“Could I have both?” Cisco asks, voice suddenly alight like he’s solved all the world’s problems and been given gummy worms for dinner. He’s pushing his ass into Harry’s hips as he hangs his head forward, nosing along Cold’s jaw. “I could – I could totally take you both. You could fuck my mouth, and Harry could fuck my ass, then you could switch – ”

Harry pulls Cisco away from Cold with as much force as he can muster. They both stumble backwards. Cisco turns with the fall, looking into his face with bright hunger. He has no notion that they’re falling, licking his lips and following the swallow of Harry’s throat.

“Would you – ”

Before Cisco can speak and before Cold can move, Harry calls for backup.

“Flash,” Harry says. “I have him. Wild Woman Saloon.”

Then there’s a flash of red and yellow and lightening. There’s barely a murmur from the crowd, most of the patrons too busy clawing at each other, as Barry whisks Cisco from his arms and the bar.

Harry and Cold are bereft of Cisco between them. They pant.

“I hate you,” Cold says, glaring at the empty space Cisco used to occupy. “I do not know you, but I hate you so much more than I have ever hated the Flash.”

“Back at you,” Harry bites before swinging his arm back and landing a hard punch on Cold’s nose.

-

When Harry arrives at the labs, his hand is throbbing, but his dick is mercifully limp.

Barry, Caitlin, and Joe are gathered around the main computers. Cisco isn’t in the room.

“Where – ” Harry begins to ask, but bites his tongue. “Have you found the antidote yet?”

He’s met with a trio of wet, disappointed stares. He clenches his fists. Nothing. 

“Okay. Where are we?”

“Nowhere good,” Caitlin says. “So far, the only sure fire way we’ve found to work the infection out is to… Well…” 

“Work the infection out,” Barry supplies pointedly, adding several unnecessary hand motions that make Harry’s face twist. “Sorry. But I mean.”

“A lot of people seem to be curing themselves,” Joe says dryly. “Unfortunately none of these people can be considered consenting.”

Harry nods. “Unfortunately. Luckily Cisco managed not to be one of those people. I found him with Captain Cold."

“Snart,” Joe and Barry say, unison in their disgust and anger.

“Thank goodness you found him,” Caitlin says. Yes. Thank goodness. “Although that does bring us to our current problem.” 

“Which is?”

“Everyone who can’t work out the infection. They die.” 

Harry’s blood freezes. His bones feel too big and his skin feels too tight and everything spins.

“Where’s Cisco?” he asks.

“The pipeline,” Caitlin answers. She at least looks ashamed. 

“The – ” Harry begins, incredulous. “Do you really think that’s the best place for him right now?”

“Do you have any better suggestions?” Joe asks. Harry doesn’t.

“Look, Cisco can’t really make a decision about who he can – work this out with,” Barry says, again with the hand motions. “But he can’t help himself right now. He’ll hit on anyone, it doesn’t matter.”

“And he’ll only get more desperate and more aggressive as time goes on. He could hurt himself or someone else." Caitlin looks down, eyes trembling and wet. “He’d never forgive himself if he hurt someone."

He wouldn’t. 

“Can he not.” Harry’s tongue feels stupid in his mouth, but he reminds himself he’s a scientist and an adult. His face still feels hot when he asks, “Can he not just work it out himself?”

Caitlin shakes her head. “The infection only seems to clear up once there’s an exchange of bodily fluids.” 

Well, obviously. Why would it possibly be any other way.

“How long does he have?” 

“Best we can figure, Cisco was infected about two hours ago,” Caitlin says.

Harry nods. That’s good. That’s not that long. Cisco has time. 

“How much longer?”

“Four hours,” Caitlin says. “At the most.”

Okay. Cisco doesn’t have that much time. 

“You need to help Caitlin work on the antidote,” Barry says. “Joe and I are going to work the streets, try to keep as many people from getting hurt as possible.”

“When it gets to the four hour mark, if we can’t find anything, we reconvene,” Caitlin says. She looks worriedly at one of the computer monitors, and Harry realizes she must be watching Cisco. 

Harry wants to push her chair out of the way and take over, see Cisco for himself, just to make sure he’s alright, but he hesitates. His self-control is shit on this earth – maybe on the original one, too, but especially here.

“I’m going to ask a question that no one is going to like,” Joe says. “Now I’m not doubting your abilities. Either of you.” He gestures between Harry and Caitlin. “But doesn’t Cisco usually help you on projects like this?”

“You saw him Joe,” Barry says softly. “He wasn’t really in any position to focus on the antidote.”

“I know he can’t help you in the position he’s in now.” 

Joe lets the words hang, heavy with implication, until Barry and Caitlin look away.

“You’re suggesting we cure Cisco now so he can assist us in curing the city,” Harry says. 

“I’m asking if you can do this without him.”

“We can,” Caitlin says quickly, but there’s a lack of confidence in her voice. “Can’t we?” 

Harry turns his back to them. Lets out a slow breath. Tries to forget the feeling of Cisco in his arms.

The most ethical approach, the best for Cisco, is to work on the antidote without him as long as possible. It would give them the greatest opportunity to cure him without delivering a trauma that could haunt Cisco long after this crisis has passed. 

The most pragmatic approach, the best for Central City, is to cure Cisco as quickly as possible. Three geniuses are better than two and they need all the power they have to save as many lives as they can.

“What would Cisco want?” Barry asks. 

They all pause, thinking, and Harry nearly rolls his eyes. For as long as they’ve known Cisco, they should know. The answer is so obvious it’s laughable.

“He would want to help,” Harry answers.

“Well of course he would want to help,” Caitlin says. “But do you really think he would want to have sex with some stranger to do it?”

Harry sighs. He removes his glasses, rubs his eyes, mind more exhausted than he can remember. “Not a stranger,” he says.

Barry and Caitlin go wide eyed. Joe looks away.

“You mean… You think one of us should…” Caitlin trails off, unable to finish the sentence. 

Harry shrugs.

“That’s your suggestion?” Barry demands, nostrils flaring in anger. 

“Hey. I think it was papa bear over here who brought it up,” Harry says.

They’re all quiet for several moments. Harry is trying not to sink under the weight of his own guilt and desires. He doesn’t need to see the future to see how this is going to end and he’s sick to his bones with the thrill running up his spine. 

Caitlin is the first one to speak. She shocks them, Harry at least, when instead of the obvious she says, “I’ve known him the longest.” 

Harry blinks.

“We’re like family,” she adds. 

“Family isn’t really what Ramon needs in this situation,” Harry says.

“Maybe it’s exactly what he needs,” Barry argues. “Who would he feel most comfortable with? He would need to believe he hadn’t damaged the relationship or hurt the other person.” 

“No offense to Caitlin, but she can’t exactly handle herself,” Harry reminds them.

“But I can,” Barry says. 

A jolt of jealousy sears through Harry. He tries not to let it show, to remain unaffected, but he can’t help gritting his teeth together.

“Barry,” Caitlin begins, but he raises a hand. 

“If he does get really aggressive, he won’t hurt me. I wouldn’t even have any bruises or anything by the time he comes back around.”

“But what if you hurt him?” Caitlin asks. “You still don’t have exact control over your powers when you’re intimate, right?” 

“Okay. I didn’t need to know that,” Joe says.

Barry bites his lip. “I know I wouldn’t hurt him.” 

“You know you don’t want to hurt him,” Harry says, growing frustrated. He can’t volunteer himself. He would look too desperate, he thinks, and he knows it’s not all for the right reasons. It’s mostly for the right reasons, sure, but he’s going to enjoy it too much for it to count as self-sacrifice.

Caitlin and Barry turn their gazes to Joe, and really, Harry wants to smack himself in the head. Or smack them in the head. No one knows how to over complicate the obvious like Team Flash.

If Cisco was here, he could tell them. Send Harry, you jerks!

“Oh. There’s. That’s a definite no. The kid’s like a son to me. Also he’s a kid. Also he’s a son.” 

“General theory is that sexuality is a spectrum,” Caitlin supplies, as if she’s being helpful. “And you wouldn’t be the first guy he’s…”

“Worked it out with.” 

“Can you stop saying that, Allen?” Harry snaps. They all turn to him, as if they’ve forgotten he’s there, as if he needs another reminder that he’s not truly part of their world. 

Barry moves toward him, earnest and determined. Finally, at least, someone has figured it out. Harry has the decency to look conflicted as Barry touches his shoulder.

“Can you save him?” Barry asks. 

Harry doesn’t trust himself to speak immediately, so he nods.

Barry looks to Caitlin and Joe, confirming they’re all in agreement. Both nod. 

“Alright. But you – ”

“I won’t hurt him,” Harry says quickly, sincerely. “And I won’t do anything unnecessary. I only want to help him.”

-

Harry marches into the pipeline, lube in his back pocket, heart pounding, cock half hard in his cargo pants. He’s doing this to keep Cisco from dying, he reminds himself, and opens the window to Cisco’s cell.

Cisco is on a cot, naked, sucking on two of his fingers while his other hand plays with the flushed head of his cock. There are tear tracks on his face. His thighs are trembling. He’s keening, pitiful and desperate, and his feet are twisted in the single thin sheet. 

Harry’s pressed against the glass, hands open and splayed over the image of Cisco’s body, before he’s realized he’s moved.

Whines are falling from Cisco’s mouth as he pops his fingers out. He runs them along his nipple before dropping his hand. The fingers disappear inside his body.

Harry pushes the button to open the cell with a heavy, sweaty palm.

The sound of the door opening makes Cisco open his eyes. They’re blown, wrecked like the rest of his body. Harry can’t imagine what state Cisco would be in if a few more hours had passed.

He can, actually, but he files it away for a future time when he’s back in his own lonely house on his own lonely Earth. Now. He has to focus on now. 

“Harry,” Cisco breathes, just as elated to see him as he had been in the bar. He doesn’t stop fingering himself or clumsily playing with his cock, but his legs do fall farther open. His smile is warm. “Harry. Did you come to fuck me?” 

Harry’s dick answers with a hard throb. He offers what he hopes is a reassuring smile and steps forward, dropping his voice to his most comforting octave.

“I’m here to help you Ramon, yes.”

“Thank God,” Cisco groans. “Thought Cold was right. You were just gonna leave me, not give me anything – ”

Harry moves forward. His leg hits the cot but he doesn’t sit down or touch Cisco yet. He’s trying to be gentle, cautious, take his time. Not catalogue every sound and scent and face Cisco makes. His gaze is stuck between Cisco’s legs, helpless to do anything but watch as Cisco clumsily ruts two fingers in and out.

“I came to give you whatever you need.”

Cisco moans again, no words, and slides further down the bed. He’s laying spread eagle, completely open, completely at Harry’s mercy. Harry swallows hard and takes a seat by Cisco’s feet. Gently, he rests his palm on Cisco’s ankle. Cisco makes a pained noise at the touch and twists. 

“What do you need, Ramon?” Harry asks, rubbing his thumb in gentle circles over Cisco’s ankle.

“I hate that. When you call me Ramon.”

“What do you want me to call you?”

Cisco bites his lip. “Just – my name. Or a pet name. Those are hot.” Cisco fucks into his own fist, fingers slipping out of himself, and he makes a frustrated sound. “I don’t know why they’re hot.”

“Okay, Ra – Cisco. Cisco.” Harry tries to smile as Cisco grins at him, but his jaw feels firm and hot. He swallows air and asks again, “What do you need, Cisco?”

“Fuck me,” Cisco breathes.

Harry closes his eyes because of course that’s what Cisco wants.

“How,” Harry begins, dry mouthed and aching. “How do you like it, Cisco?”

Cisco doesn’t answer, too focused on playing with himself. As much as Harry aches to keep watching him, they’re working on borrowed time. He reaches out and gathers Cisco’s wrists in his hands. Cisco let’s Harry manhandle him with ease. 

Harry brings Cisco’s knuckles to his mouth, trying to bestow a touch of the tenderness someone like Cisco deserves. Cisco shivers under his lips. 

“How do you like it?” Harry asks again. “Do you like it sweet, Cisco? Soft? Do you want me to make love to you?” 

Cisco shakes his head. “Please, come on,” he pants, rocking his ass against the cot. He’s so desperate to be filled, it’s so filthy and obvious. Harry just wants to take. He squeezes Cisco’s hands too tightly.

“I’m going to sweetheart.” It tumbles out on accident, but Cisco rewards him with a deep shudder. His cock, so flushed and hard and wet, bobs. Harry’s jaw aches. “But it’s going to be exactly how you like it. You have to tell me.” 

“I like.” Cisco has to pause, like he has to remember, like he can’t think past the lusty fog in his brain. “I like to get fucked. Hard.” Cisco slides his eyes open, pupils full blown with need. He licks his lips in a clear invitation and Harry feels weak. “I like to be the bitch. Can you – is that okay? Can you do that, Harry?”

Harry wants to bang his head into the wall. Any other day he’s been on this Earth, if Cisco asked if Harry would make him his bitch, Harry would’ve thrown the kid against the nearest surface and made him cry. 

There’s no sense of triumph now as Harry covers Cisco’s body with his own, pinning Cisco’s hands beside his head. No fight or thrill, no push or pull. Not that Cisco’s submission is something to be taken for granted, but it tastes more like ash than honey under the knowledge that Cisco’s desperation is a result of some metahuman fuckery and not his desire for Harry himself. 

“Do you want me to kiss you?” Harry has to ask. Cisco’s consent isn’t really something he can give, but it does ease the ache in Harry’s chest when Cisco nods.

“Yeah,” Cisco slurs, offering his open mouth, which does nothing to ease the ache in Harry’s cock.

Harry kisses him. Cisco’s reciprocation is sloppy but eager. He presses into Harry’s body, all heat and need, licking at Harry’s teeth. It’s clumsy and feels so real and Harry wishes he knew what was Cisco, what was pollen, so he could store it tight. 

“C’mon,” Cisco urges, nipping at his lips.

The desire to take his time is strong. He wants to map Cisco’s body, make him beg, show him what it really means to be a bitch, but the city is counting on them. Harry hates that about this Earth. 

“On your knees, sweetheart,” Harry rasps. Cisco’s clumsy but eager to obey. He sways once he’s up on all fours, but his hips are pushed up and out, and he’s wriggling like he’s daring Harry to put him in his place. 

Harry rises to the bait, unable to not, and lays a quick spank on Cisco’s ass. Cisco yelps but leans into it.

“That all you got?” Cisco teases.

Saving the city, Harry reminds himself, but his palm itches. 

“Stay,” Harry says as he stands. He considers undressing all the way. Bare body against bare body, soaking in all of Cisco’s softness and heat. He promised nothing unnecessary.

Cisco, for the most part, follows orders. He keeps swaying his ass, rhythmically enough that Harry understands it’s deliberate and not from exhaustion. Harry hurriedly unbuttons and unzips his jeans, yanking them down just enough to free his cock. He hears Cisco moan and looks up to see Cisco’s head craned back, watching him, all hunger and heat.

Harry knows they’re in a hurry, knows this isn’t real. If it was, he would step forward, ask Cisco if he wants Harry’s cock, tell him to prove it by pulling Harry from his underwear and giving it him good hard suck. 

“You gonna just keep me waiting?” Cisco asks. 

It isn’t real, Harry reminds himself again, and doesn’t say anything. 

He climbs behind Cisco on the bed and fishes the medical lube from his jeans. Cisco is still glistening with his own spit, but Harry can tell he’s tight. His own fingers weren’t enough to properly stretch him. 

Cisco moans as Harry circles his hole with two fingers. He tries to push into them, swallow them up, and Harry delivers a hard warning spank. 

“Still,” Harry says. “You want to be good for me, sweeatheart?”

“Never said good.”

Cisco is trying to kill him.

Harry takes a deep breath and spanks Cisco five quick times in succession, hard as he can. It shuts Cisco up long enough for him to slick two fingers and work them inside.

Cisco’s still too tight. He’s squirming and rocking back onto Harry’s fingers. Harry doesn’t think they have enough time for him to work Cisco loose and wet enough to fuck him as hard as they both want. 

“Like it when it burns a little,” Cisco is saying, watching Harry again through heavy eyes.

“You – ” Harry spanks him again and Cisco’s moans, pushes into it. Helplessness floods Harry as he realizes the spanking isn’t doing anything to make Cisco behave. He drapes himself over Cisco’s back, fingers still buried deep, hoping the contact will satisfy Cisco into stillness long enough to properly open him. Dropping kisses over Cisco’s spine, Harry growls, “Thought you wanted to be my bitch?”

“Want you to make me,” Cisco challenges. 

Harry makes a frustrated noise and grabs Cisco by the hair, pulling him back for a rough kiss. After he has Cisco moaning into his mouth, Harry releases him, pushing him face down into the pillows.   

Cisco keeps murmuring filthy dares as Harry manages to push a third finger into him. It’s not enough, he knows it’s not enough, but time is running out.

“You ready for it, sweetheart?” Harry asks, dragging his nails over Cisco’s ass.

“Bring it.”

Harry hauls Cisco up to his hands and knees again, fingers slippery over Cisco’s hot hips. He lines up and pushes inside the too tight, too hot, too much sweet of Cisco’s body. Harry doesn’t push all the way in with the first thrust, all of it too new for that, just thrusts half way and stops and feels.

“T-that all?” Cisco groans, but Harry can feel how affected he is by the tremble in his thighs.

Harry forces himself to shove the rest of the way forward. He wishes he could savor, tease, drive Cisco so past the point of pleasure that all his smart mouth remarks turned into pleas. Cisco pushes into him. Their hips are pressed flushed and hot together. Harry doesn’t want to move, wants to burn up here. 

“Move,” Cisco half demands, half begs. 

Harry complies. He sets as brutal of a pace he can, snapping hard and quick, digging his fingers into Cisco’s hips. Leaving bruises that will last long past the infection. 

Cisco will feel him tomorrow. The aches all over his body, in his ass. It will all be Harry and Cisco won’t be able to forget it.

Harry wants to apologize ahead of time. Say he’s sorry for giving Cisco what he asked for, for wanting it just as badly, for getting off on the marks and pain and reminders he’s pushing into Cisco’s body.

The noises Harry punches from Cisco with each rough thrust of his cock are enough to make him lose his sanity. He hangs onto a shred of control, just by the bend of his fingernails, managing to find Cisco’s prostate and aim for the sweet spot more often than not.

“So good, oh Jesus Christ, Harry. Harder.” 

Harry almost snorts, because no way can Cisco’s little body handle everything Harry wants to unload. He doesn’t change his pace or his angle, pounding and holding his breath to keep from coming, until Cisco seizes up.

Harry topples, ends up folding his legs in half, slipping out of Cisco’s ass. He groans at the loss. It’s only a moment before he has Cisco’s heat back, though, as Cisco climbs over him, all sweaty limbs and desire, and settles on his cock.

They yell in unison. Harry’s fingers scramble against Cisco’s shoulders, his sides, gripping for purchase as Cisco winds smooth skin around his neck and begins to ride.

“Not gonna break,” Cisco insists into Harry’s neck. Cisco proves it by rising as far up as he can, hovering with just the tip of Harry inside him, then dropping down so hard and fast Harry feels the air sucked out of his lungs. 

They find each other’s mouth as Cisco sets the pace, just as punishing as Harry’s – rougher, even, and faster. Little sounds of pain mix with little moans of pleasure and the wet head of Cisco’s cock drags against Harry’s fluttering stomach. 

“God, look at you,” Harry breathes, truly reverent. He watches himself disappear, violent and crude, into Cisco’s sweet body. “Look at you take it.”

“Told you,” Cisco quips, mouthing wet against Harry’s jaw. He sucks the skin there and Harry knows he’ll have his own Cisco shaped bruise to sear this experience into him.

It’s too much. He can’t come before the kid drugged with sex pollen. No part of him can handle that now.

He fists Cisco’s hair, pulling so hard Cisco cries out and stops moving. Harry laps at the wet on his cheek before yanking him away, getting him on his back, and spreading his legs.

“Gonna fuck me now?” Cisco taunts.

Harry slams in, one thrust, shattering Cisco’s bravado. Cisco’s mouth is too full of moans and Harry’s tongue to bait Harry further. Harry fucks him so hard he’s afraid the pipeline will shake down around them, but it’s what Cisco needs. With a shout he’s sure Caitlin can hear in their lab, Cisco shoots over their stomachs. 

Harry follows shortly, filling Cisco with his heat and every ounce of his need.

He stays inside of Cisco for several long moments. He’s empty; no breath, no energy, no nothing inside of him except what he’s driven into Cisco’s body. Cisco kisses him, childish and lazy, making happy murmurs into his mouth.

“When you gonna be ready for round 2?” Cisco is asking, licking at his chin.

Harry groans. “Give me a call in about a year or so, okay sweetheart?”

Cisco laughs. Harry pulls out of him with great effort, and Cisco immediately falls asleep.

-

They save the city.

Technically.

-

It’s been two days since Harry fucked the life out of Cisco to keep him from dying. Things have been surprisingly normal.

No crisis has appeared and no one has died. Harry has a sore patch behind his ear that is currently a lovely mottled purple yellow. He hides it with a jacket when the others around. He presses on it constantly when he’s alone. Cisco had trouble sitting the day before, but he’s moving and sitting with barely a limp today.

Normal.

Harry is running data, idly rubbing Cisco’s mark on his neck, when Cisco enter the lab.

It’s the first time they’ve been alone since they tore into each other. Harry feels awkward.

“Hey,” Cisco says, bright as ever. He has two coffees in his hand.

“Hey,” Harry answers. “One of those for me?”

Cisco nods and passes him a cup. “I’ve been trying to think of how to thank you for, y’know, saving my life.” Harry opens his gaze to Cisco’s flushed cheeks and dazzling grin. “Figured a cup of Jitters coffee was the perfect way to say it.”

“Well.” Harry surveys the coffee in his hand. “Is this fresh roast?”

Cisco rolls his eyes. “This is where you say you’re welcome, Cisco.”

Harry shifts at the use of the first name. He isn’t sure what to call Cisco now. Ramon feels distant, considering Harry’s been inside of him, but Cisco feels too close to friendship. Harry isn’t sure that’s what they have. It’s less than what he wants, but he wouldn’t push it away.

“Is this your way of saying you think your life is only as valuable as a cup of coffee?”

“First of all, that’s a super expensive cup of coffee. Second of all.” Cisco takes a slow sip of his own drink, pausing, gathering courage, perhaps, before he continues. “Second of all. It’s not like you didn’t get anything out of it.” 

Harry inhales sharply. Cisco takes a tentative step forward, hovering on the ring of Harry’s personal space.

“Did you?” 

“Are you asking,” Harry says slowly. “If getting to rape you was enough of a consolation for saving your life?”

Cisco blinks, horrified. “You didn’t – woah. No. Is that what you think? Oh, man. Is that why you’ve been so emo these past few days?”

Tutting, Cisco moves to Harry’s side, gathering his frozen form in a hug. Cisco is warm and gentle around him. Harry can’t move.

“You didn’t,” Cisco says as he pulls back. He can’t seem to get the word out, so he clasps Harry’s shoulder and smiles, strained but genuine. “I felt like I was the one who took advantage of you, y’know?”

"You didn’t do anything.”

Cisco lightly taps a finger on the bruise he sucked into Harry’s skin. It’s a gentle touch, as if he’s afraid to hurt. The move goes straight to Harry’s cock. He shifts, crossing his legs, trying to be as conspicuous as possible as Cisco offers to comfort him. 

This Earth is fucked up.

“I did a couple of things,” Cisco says, sheepish but without shame. “I knew what was going on. I mean I didn’t fully get I was drugged, but I knew there was a reason you were banging me other than your deep desire to bang me.”

Harry has no response to that.

Except, “You would’ve gone with Cold.”

Cisco winces. “Yeah. That’s not. That was embarrassing. But that doesn’t mean I was in the position to get taken advantage of. I’m just easy." 

“Oh, well.” Harry rolls his eyes and laughs, helpless. 

“I hope that doesn’t cheapen our night of passion.” 

“No, of course not,” Harry says. His chest feels looser than it has in days. 

“I would probably be Central City’s biggest ho bag if enough people wanted to sleep with me.” 

Harry closes his eyes, breathes out slow. “I don’t think you’ll find a shortage.”

“I kind of hate Cold,” Cisco says, more quiet and serious. Harry opens his eyes. “I don’t know if anyone ever told you, but he made me build weapons for him. Weapons that hurt people. And he hurt my brother. Tortured him.” 

That, Harry didn’t know. Horror in this Earth and pure, protective fear for Cisco take hold of him.

“And, okay, looking at it rationally, I probably wouldn’t have been so willing to get spit roasted between you guys if I hadn’t been drugged.”

Harry is so glad he didn’t have a mouthful of coffee when Cisco says the words spit roasted. Christ.

Cisco nods to himself, eyes wide, mouth curved in a smile that speaks volume about his life choices. “Yeah. Not my proudest moment.” He clucks his tongue. “But. That doesn’t mean you took advantage of me.”

Harry tilts his head. “I think that’s exactly what it means – ”

“Can we not do this thing.” Cisco gestures between them. “The thing where we pretend like we don’t like each other thing. I don’t want to do that thing.”

“How do you know I like you?” Harry asks because he is, fundamentally, six.

“Um, because you fucked me with the fury of a thousand suns?” Cisco takes a sip of coffee. “Duh.”

“I – ” Harry says, searching for an explanation or defense. “You asked me to.”

“And you loved it.” Cisco is grinning, open and somehow completely innocent despite his words. He wiggles his eyebrows. “And I loved it. So there’s absolutely nothing to brood over. As far as us having sex is concerned, anyway.”

Harry drags a hand over his face. “Cisco.”

“You called me by my first name,” Cisco says softly.

Harry sighs. He did.

“Look, I know we can’t really do… this right now. But I wanted you to know. I don’t think you did anything wrong. No one else does, either. You saved me. And I’m grateful.”

Warmth blooms in Harry’s chest. A little too tight, a little too hot. A distraction, but not wholly unwelcome.

“Anyway. Thank you, again. For making sure I didn’t die.”

“Cisco,” Harry says, stopping Cisco as he turns to leave. You’re welcome, Harry thinks. It wasn’t unpleasant. Can we do it again?

“Yeah?”

“Thank you. For the coffee.”

Cisco’s smile is dazzling. “You’re welcome, Harry.”

When Cisco’s gone, Harry wraps one hand around the coffee. He presses his other thumb to his bruise, and inhales.