{Which To Bury; Us Or The Hatchet

[myheadisaprison]

For auricular_acuity

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{Please don't wake me til the morning after

[thisismadfreaky]

Cisco is not a morning person and it shows more on days he has nowhere to be. He lets out a soft noise of protest against the sun trying to peek through the blinds. He curls toward the warmth next to him, tugging the blanket up over his face.

But...wait.

Awareness slowly starts to sink in and the idea that he's next to someone is strange and confusing. He stirs a little and squints against the offensive sunlight.

....Oh.

That wasn't a dream.

Last night definitely wasn't a dream and Hartley was in bed next to him. His heart thuds against his chest as memories from the night flood his mind. Oh...right. Okay.

"Hartley?" he mumbles, not sure if he's asleep or not.

[auricular_acuity]

Hartley usually rose early. He had wakened when the sun began to warm the blinds, but he hadn't wanted to move - either to risk waking Cisco, nor deprive himself of the pleasure of being cuddled.

He tensed as he felt Cisco begin to stir. Either this was going to be a good morning, or it was going to be terrible, and he didn't know which to expect. He hated not being able to anticipate what was coming.

At the muffled sound of his name, he rubbed Cisco's back gently, and hummed an affirmative. "Morning," he said warily.

[thisismadfreaky]

A soft, almost whiny, "Mmmm...." is all he gets in response to the greeting as Cisco shifts closer to him, burying his face against Hartley's chest. Sorry, Hart, he's not awake enough for something like full sentences yet.

For several long, quiet minutes, Cisco just stays there, curled against him, soaking in the warmth and the comfort from the man next to him. His arm is draped loosely across Hartley's waist, his thumb pressing small, light circles against his hip. For those minutes, he just doesn't want to move, to ruin whatever this moment is, he doesn't want to break the spell. Because reality is cold and harsh and, right now, Hartley is soft and warm and comfortable.

Maybe he could just live in the bubble of this moment for awhile.

[auricular_acuity]

Hartley is in no more of a rush. What does he have to go to? To his sad tiny apartment, his experiments, his solitude and obsession?

But if Cisco wasn't inclined to kick him out immediately, perhaps he could improve their mood even more. He shifted and brushed fingers through Cisco's long dark hair.

"Do you have any decent coffee in this place?"

[thisismadfreaky]

He hums something of a sound of approval at the fingers in his hair and peeks up at him, not quite awake enough to look as incredulous as he meant to. "'course I do. Who're you talking to. Like I keep bad coffee in my house."

[auricular_acuity]

Hartley makes a doubtful sound. "I'll be the judge of that."

He shifts and kisses that adorable sleepy expression on Cisco's face, just because he can, then pulls the blankets back and gets up. Nude, the little devices in his ears glowing faintly, he goes to explore Cisco's apartment in search of a coffee maker.

[thisismadfreaky]

He pouts when Hartley untangles himself and gets up. Excuse you, sir, you took away the comfy human heater he was using. But...it would also probably end in coffee, so maybe he can allow it.

"I'm not moving!" he calls out to him once he's somewhere in the direction of the kitchen. "I demand coffee in bed!" It's not a very strong demand, considering the laugh that's attached to it.

[thisismadfreaky]

[About a week after the night he crashed his apartment, Hartley is on Cisco's mind. Annoyingly, in the middle of The Walking Dead. Just a bit of a random thought, at first, but he persists to be there through half the episode and Cisco huffs, puling his phone out, pursing his lips at the name in his contact list.

No harm in talking, right?]


»Hey

[Great opening line. Nailed it.]

[auricular_acuity]

[Hartley hadn't intended to walk fully out of Cisco's life, but absence makes the doubts creep in more than making the heart grow fonder, and he had basically decided that contacting Cisco again would only make himself look desperate.

So imagine his delight when Cisco does indeed contact him first! He is in the middle of something, but he doesn't waste too much time before replying. A moderate ten minutes, that's all]

Well, hello there

[thisismadfreaky]

[He definitely didn't immediately reach for his phone when the text notification sound dinged. NOPE!]

»You busy tonight?

[No, wait, stop! That sounds like a proposition! ....Dammit, it sent.]

[auricular_acuity]

[It does sound like a proposition, and it gives Hartley ideas.]

I'm always busy, but nothing I can't set aside if there's something more enjoyable to do.

Or someone.

Are you willing to meet me somewhere, Cisco?

[thisismadfreaky]

»And I fall into that category?

[Oh, god.. He's terrible at this. Whatever. Hartley knew him long before they fell into whatever this thing between them now is. He knew what he was getting himself into.

<>Shitshitshit. He wants to meet him somewhere. Is that panic siren going off in his head? Well, Cisco's certainly not going to listen to it.]

»What did you have in mind?

[auricular_acuity]

Guess...

I'm sending you the coordinates now. Don't make me wait too long, Cisco ;)

[And if Cisco does travel to the cute little park that Hartley sends him to, he'll find no Hartley at all... but he will find one of the last payphones in the city, and it's ringing.

[thisismadfreaky]

» Hey
» What r u doing?

[Cisco's propped back on his couch, channel flipping like it's a freaking race, and bored as hell because he can't find anything to hold his attention on tv. He also isn't feeling particularly social tonight. Barry's too high-energy for the mood he's in and he's bothered Caitlin enough lately. So, who better to text than someone who isn't really too big on doing things with a lot of people anyway.]

[auricular_acuity]

[Seriously? Cisco is texting him? Well, Hartley doesn't really mind, but he'll take a moment to fuck with him a little first.

Like by replying in a way that would be completely out of character if he were doing it for any other reason.]

>> New fone who dis

[thisismadfreaky]

[Okay, so it's been a bit since they'd seen each other but... he didn't think Hartley would have ditched his phone or changed his number and not mentioned it to him, at least. ....Maybe he was wrong. He squints at the response. This is definitely not Hartley, though. Not a chance.]

» Oh, uhh this is Cisco.
» My bad, dude.
» I guess my [.... boyfriend? friend? ....jfkdslajkfdsa what are descriptor words?!] friend changed his number.

[auricular_acuity]

>> Friend?
>> Is that all I am to you, Cisco? ;)

[thisismadfreaky]

» ...wait
» Hart?
[He's so confused now. And half-mortified because if this actually is Hartley, he might have just used the wrong word and shitshitshit why is this his life.]

[auricular_acuity]

>> Of course.
>> You really think I would have changed my number and not told you?

[auricular_acuity]

The noise coming from Cisco's infernal little device sent a virtual knife right through Hartley's head. He claps his hands over his ears and screams.

"Okay! Okay!" he yells over the shrieking of the device. He'd do anything to make it stop. Even beg. "Please! Stop it!"

The sound stops. He is left shaking and panting, the ringing in his ears so loud that he barely hears Cisco's cold threat to use it again if he doesn't behave himself. Then the other man's hand grabs Hartley's to haul him to his feet--

--And a shock goes through Hartley's body. A tingle flares in the small Mark just under his ribs on his right side, a Mark he's had since he was two years old, and which he realizes instantly must be warming from a soft silver to a deep black as the Bond is formed.

He looks up, breath still ragged from the pain in his head that's still only fading, and stares up at Cisco. "...You?" he breathes, utterly stunned.

[thisismadfreaky]

There's something the tiniest bit thrilling from watching Hartley beg. ...But Cisco has a heart, so he stops the noise and throws a threat to use it again his way just to punctuate the point and make the lines he's drawing in the sand clear, here.

When he reaches for Hartley's hand to tug him roughly to his feet, he feels the same shock and almost instantly jerks his hand out of the other's like he'd touched fire. Cisco has never had the best poker face and that doesn't fail him now as he shifts between confusion, shock, and denial in rapid fire.

A laugh, bitter and disbelieving bubbles up abruptly from the back of his throat. "No." He shakes his head and points an accusatory finger in Hartley's direction, like he'd done this, chosen this, made this happen somehow. "No. I reject this reality and will...find one of my own to substitute it with later. But-- no."

[auricular_acuity]

Hartley hadn't made this happen. He'd just waited his whole life - or nearly so - for this moment. And it's Cisco fucking Ramon.

Cisco had to have been born Marked, but right now Hartley isn't feeling too charitable towards him. It seems like Cisco just completely rejected their Bond, and that rejection stabs a new, painful knife into his chest.

His eyes narrow with pain and rage, and his hands clench into fists. "You say that like I'd lower myself to Bond with someone like you," he spits, his voice still ragged.

[thisismadfreaky]

"Try to sound a little more like you think I'm a second-rate citizen, I don't think you conveyed it enough the first time." Cisco definitely isn't happy about this, but there's also a ton of things running through his mind too. Like 'Why me? Why this? Why him?' and 'He was always annoyingly hot' and a level of curiosity he is not at all ready to admit to. Because it's Hartley and he can't wrap his mind around this guy being the perfect one for him because what. Even.

[auricular_acuity]

No one he actually wants...wants him. The story of Hartley's life. He had been chosen by his mentor and idol, Harrison Wells, but that hadn't been what he had thought it would be, and Wells had turned out to be a crazy mass murderer.

And now Cisco's looking at him like he'd rather die then touch him.

He grits his teeth. "Weren't we on our way somewhere?" he growls. "We have work to do, remember?"

Though the thought of being alone with Cisco right now, in the flush of a new Bond - in a place where there's a bed - is incredibly attractive. Except he's pretty sure Cisco doesn't even like men... so so much for that.

[thisismadfreaky]

"Yeah." He says sharply, though admittedly less so than he'd been moments before, if only because he's grateful for the distraction away from this and latches onto the change of subject.

Cisco isn't thinking about the specifics, about how it won't be anyone but the two of them there. He just pulls Hartley with him out of the cell. "Come on."

How little you truly know about your former co-worker, Hart.