{Don't be gone when I get home, you're all I have

[myheadisaprison]

PSL with viber + mostlyajerk
s3 timeline shenanigans

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[thisismadfreaky]

Cisco neither hates or loves the time alone. Some part of him appreciates it, another part just silently counts the seconds until he hears the soft footsteps coming down the hallway. The second he's next to him, he curls against Hartley, seeking both the warmth and the comfort. Hartley may feel like he's at a loss, but there's little more Cisco could want or need from him right now.

"Not really..." his voice is quiet, a little hoarse and there's a frown etched into his features. He's silent for a little while, tracing patterns against the material of Hartley's shirt. Despite his denial for sharing stories, his next words seem to just bubble out of their own will, "We used to be closer... when we were kids. Til I was like, nine or ten, I guess. That's when he started pulling away." He shrugs one shoulder. "No teenager wants to hang out with their kid brother, I guess. I always hoped it'd change...in the future, somehow, we'd come full circle. The gap wouldn't matter and we'd be close again." His voice drops to a whispers. "So much for that."

[mostlyajerk]

"People grow apart. You are very different." Mostly he's thinking that by all accounts, Dante was a giant jerk that over-compensated for not having his brother's intelligence by making him feel inferior in spite of being the opposite, but that's clearly not something he'd share. Not right now and likely not ever. It doesn't matter anyway. None of that makes them not be brothers, none of that means that Dante didn't care for Cisco. Obviously it doesn't mean that Cisco doesn't care for him. "There's still good memories, right? Family."

[thisismadfreaky]

"Yeah," he nods a little, "there are some good ones...but it's all they are. Memories." And what good did that do him? "I always thought there'd be time to fix it." A bitter, mirthless laugh escapes him at that. It was a harsh irony, in light of everything he now knows about time and timelines and the way there's never enough of it, or a way to catch it.

[mostlyajerk]

"That's something though. I'm sorry, Cisquito." There's really no use to pointing out that things might have never been fixed between them, because ultimately? That hardly matters. He kisses Cisco's hair, tightening his arms around him. There's been a timeline where they never were anything but enemies. That same timeline that has Barry, who he's come to think of as a close friend, still eye him with cautious wariness. Things can change so easily. "I'm sorry it happened."

[thisismadfreaky]

If it's possible, he curls tighter against Hartley, shifting enough so his cheek rests against his boyfriend's chest, his ear just above his heart. There's not much left to say, but he can can let the soft, steady thud of Hartley's heart lull him to sleep.