#IM STILL GOIN STRONG EYYY
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Harriscofest2017: Harriso Touch Progression
Harrison courts Cisco with soft touches. He doesn't know if Cisco is aware he's being courted, but all the same he resolves to be slow, to be good, behave himself. He doesn't push so much as invite reciprocation. There was a time when he could make Cisco flinch without even touching him; though there have been a thousand silent apologies since, Harrison’s instinct is still to avoid rushing Cisco too suddenly, too aggressively.
It begins with painfully casual contact. Hands brushing as they reach for the same tool; knees bumping as they work at the same desk. Cisco slowly relaxes away from the ghosts, Thawne and HR, and turns more and more into Harrison’s personal space.
So he escalates. A hand on Cisco’s shoulder, held until Cisco meets his eyes. Harrison is usually the first to break eye contact, but that's how he's always been. This is enough. Cisco smiles at him freely and more often, the sly smirks and the sunshine-radiant grins.
Harrison has to gather his nerve for a more prolonged touch. The first and so far only time he's ever hugged Cisco, he came close to holding tight and never letting go; but he spent the rest of that day wanting to crawl out of his skin and leave it and Cisco’s scent far behind.
That doesn't matter now, he's ready for more.
One arm drapes over Cisco’s shoulders while they're standing in front of the markerboard. Cisco trails off in the middle of a sentence, long enough for Harrison to regret his decision. Before he pulls away, Cisco picks up his trail of thought like nothing is wrong. Harrison is left standing stiff against Cisco’s side. Where should his hand be? On the shoulder or hanging off? Is his arm too tight?
He's held on for too long, since his arm is starting to tingle. Stubbornness has set in, fought and won against awkwardness, and now refuses to let him relax until Cisco acknowledges what they're doing.
Cisco does, eventually, with a huff of a laugh and a sharp elbow under Harrison’s ribs. “Dude, seriously, you need to chill.” He caps the marker and sets it aside, easing away from Harrison without going too far.
Harrison drops his arm gratefully but says, “I don't know what you're talking about.”
“Whatever. Wanna grab lunch? I'm starving. I could murder at least two burgers, three if I'm feeling competitive.”
“Competitive?” Harrison asks.
Cisco directs a pointed look down. “Jesse calls your stomach the black hole.”
“Jesse can't talk.”
“Jesse is a speedster. What's your excuse?”
Progress grinds to a halt after that. Harrison can't think of any way to move beyond resting his hand on Cisco’s shoulder. Occasionally, if he's feeling brave--or intrusive--he’ll lean a little closer, get a better whiff of Cisco’s shampoo. Cisco smiles at him, but he can't know what's on Harrison’s mind
If only Cisco would reciprocate. If he would just--just nudge at Harrison’s boundaries as cautiously as Harrison does at his.
One thought that he frequently entertains during this courtship: he should have started sooner. Before HR, before HR died. He could have been bolder. He could have pushed farther, without worrying that Cisco can only respond to HR’s ghost and not to Harrison himself.
There comes a day when Cisco is tired, stretched thin in too many directions, fraying at the edges. Harrison catches him with his hands braced on the edge of the desk, hair falling into his eyes.
Harrison moves before he can stop himself--well, that's a lie, he can stop at any time, he just doesn't want to--and goes to Cisco, stands close. He tucks a few loose strands of hair behind Cisco’s ear. His hair is soft, his cheek is soft, his ear is soft, Harrison is reduced to shrieking redundancy in the privacy of his own head.
Cisco looks up, turning his face into the palm of Harrison’s hand. It's a soft smile that lights up his face (stop thinking soft, Harrison, but no matter how many times Harrison tells himself this, he can't stop). “Hey, you,” Cisco says.
“Hey.” Harrison clears his throat. “Anything I can do?”
“To me?” Soft (stop) brown eyes glisten in amusement and Harrison quickly drops his gaze.
“To help,” Harrison clarifies. He withdraws his hand, but Cisco catches him by the wrist and hangs on.
“What do you wanna do?” Cisco just has to be annoying.
“Help you,” Harrison says, like it's obvious.
“Jackass. I meant in general.”
“...help you.” Harrison can't think of any other general goal he has. Protect Jesse, woo Cisco, but neither of those need to be said out loud in this moment.
“Jack. Ass. God, I've been talking to Cindy too much.” Cisco let's Harrison go, sweeps his hair back in a motion he's done hundreds of times. It's just as eye-catching as the first time Harrison saw him do it. “Can we have a moment of complete honesty here? All I'm asking, from one interested guy to maybe another, is do you wanna kiss me?”
The question sparks an exchange of looks: hard blink and raised eyebrows from Harrison, faux-confident shrug from Cisco. “Yeah, I said it. I got nothin’ to hide.” Cisco is looking less and less sure.
Harrison surges forward, but stops himself a few inches from his goal. “Are you sure?”
Cisco looks ridiculous with his lips pursed prematurely, ready for more and disappointed. “Wha--yes?”
“You haven't,” Harrison keeps talking, watches himself tearing up the opportunity he's been given. His voice is gravel, crushed and rough. “Been responding. To me. You haven't reached back.”
“Whoa whoa whoa, hold the phone.” Cisco’s hand lands squarely on Harrison’s chest. He pushes forward, forcing Harry back, step by step and word by word. “You hate touching people. You rarely wanna get anywhere near anybody, so I was waiting for you--but you were waiting for… No one has ever, in my life, waited on me to make the first move.”
“I know this face is complicated for you,” Harrison begins. He doesn't finish, because even he knows that's a stupid excuse. Cisco once told him that there was only one Harry. Maybe it's time he listened.
“You know what's complicated, Harry?” Cisco is smiling, because he has Harrison backed into and on a desk. “Trying to read your mind. You gotta open up more.”
“I thought you’d appreciate slow,” Harrison says. Cisco’s hand rests against his chest, light, fingertips five points of heat and pressure that Harrison leans into. It’s enough to make him feel rooted to Cisco, tied irrevocably into Cisco’s orbit.
“But I work with the Flash.” That’s the cutesy answer. Cisco appears to second-guess himself. “And going slow is for people who don’t already know each other well.” That’s the practical answer. But Cisco, true to form, has to keep amending his words until they match what he really wants to say. Harrison finds that endearing, though he’d never admit. “And your slow is glacial and I’ve been ready to jump your bones for a while? So--”
“Kiss me,” Harrison says.
Cisco’s hand knots in Harrison’s shirt and jerks him down, where his mouth is in easy reach of a hard kiss. Harrison inwardly cracks with relief. A knot of anxiety formed around his desire to touch Cisco, kept him from trying too much. He didn’t know until Cisco reached in and plucked it loose. Now he's sighing into Cisco’s mouth.
Too much pressure is released in that first kiss that Harrison can't even enjoy it. “Do that again,” he says against Cisco’s--yes, all right--soft mouth.
“Sure.” Their second kiss recalls all the gentleness Harrison started with, all his resolve to be slow and good with Cisco. Harrison spreads his legs so Cisco can slide closer. Cisco does, stands warm and solid and braced between Harrison’s thighs.
“You wanted to help?” Cisco says, barely a whisper between them. “I've been under a lot of stress lately. Sure could use a friend, who is also a boy, who shares similar interests and eats out with me a lot, to help relieve some of that stress.”
“That's me,” Harrison says.
“One could almost call him a boyfriend, if I kiss him enough.”
“That's me?” He smirks at Cisco’s incredulous look. “I know what you mean. I'm not a boy. I did say I wanted to help you.”
“And I let you know where the help was needed.” Hope rises in Cisco’s voice.
“I'm willing to meet the demand.” Harrison isn't bothered by this. Cisco is so close, and Harrison is still fine. They both are, touching and being touched, no ghosts between them.
#harriscofest2017#jem writes something#DAY FOUR#IM STILL GOIN STRONG EYYY#two recurring themes this month: cisco + grief and harry + anxiety#hmmmm#rushed ending is rushed but idgaf it's already almost 1500 words
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day 3 of nyatober inktober and im still goin strong eyyy
#after the first 3100 word monster nya have gotten the memo about sHORT and SWEET#we keeping things around 600 words now
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