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What A Stranger Sees

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They both freeze when the door slides open, Doctor Henry Hewitt with his mouth open in greeting and the vaguely familiar young man bent over, one hand buried in Doctor Wells’ office drawer. He was clearly snooping, the guilty expression on his face alone proves that. It’s the detritus of the drawers contents spread out over the desk that really seal his guilt. Hewitt stands indecisive - should he call for security? Handle the matter on his own? The young man doesn’t look dangerous, with his zip up hoodie and unprofessional tshirt, his long hair falling into his face.

“Hey,” the young man says finally, voice faux casual, one hand lifting to wave at him. “You seen Harry around?”

“Harry,” Hewitt repeats faintly. Familiarity continues to nag at the parts of Hewitt’s mind that aren’t reeling at the idea of anyone feeling privileged to call one such as Doctor Harrison Wells by such a moniker. The kid straightens up, closing the desk drawer without replacing all the items he’d taken out.

“Yeah,” the young man says, drawing the word out. “Harrison Wells. Is he around?”

“Oh, he’s, he’s - how did you even get in here?”

He grins brightly. “Gated in.”

Hewitt isn’t sure how to respond to that. He opens and closes his mouth several times before giving up. He’ll call Doctor Wells, get his take on the situation, and then call security. Feeling on firmer ground now that he had a plan of action, Hewitt straightens his shoulders and puts on his happiest smile, hoping his suggestion won’t be greeted with violence. One can never be too careful in today’s world.

“Let me just call Doctor Wells for you,” Hewitt says. The young man nods gamely, flopping down into the desk chair. He spins it in circles as he waits for Hewitt to make the call. Hewitt takes a step back, closer to the door, and hits the computer interface built right into the wall.

“Call Doctor Wells’ cell phone,” Hewitt says clearly, and the computer beeps. After a moment of silence, the screen goes from calling to connected .

“Yes, what?” Doctor Wells snaps, and Hewitt hesitates. Should he really bother Wells with this? “There better be a damn good reason you’re interrupting me -”

“Sir,” Hewitt says, mouth dry. “Sir, I am sorry to bother you while you are at home.”

There’s a long pause. Then, “Hewitt?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Why are you calling from my office? Can’t it wait?”

“Uh, no sir. You have a visitor. I found him in your office, uh, helping himself to your things.”

“What? Who’s in my office?”

Hewitt turns to look at the young man, who has stopped spinning in the chair and now has a half-eaten twizzler in one hand. He nimbly jumps to his feet and walks toward Hewitt and the interface, his steps silent on the plush carpet. The young man leans a little too close to the interface, face alight with curiosity. His cheek bulges as he shoves the candy in his mouth to the side.

“Harry, dude,” the young man says cheerfully. His words are somewhat slurred due to his full mouth. Hewitt stifles the urge to scold him about being polite to one's superiors and talking with your mouth full. “What up?”

“Cisco?” Doctor Wells sounds surprised and more than a little pleased. Over the interface, Hewitt hears the sound of something being dropped. “You’re here? What - why? Is everything alright?”

“Yeah man, everything’s fine,” Cisco says. He pokes at the interface, turning the volume up, though Henry suspects that was by accident. “I thought I’d follow up on my promise, come for a visit. See what trouble you’ve gotten yourself into.”

“Me? As I recall, it was I who helped you with your trouble.”

“Whatever you tell yourself, Harry,” Cisco replies, tone obnoxiously soothing. Doctor Wells makes a small, exasperated sound in response. Hewitt tenses, prepared to send this brash young man on his way. As he had thought, nobody talked to Doctor Wells in this manner. Surely Wells wouldn’t stand -

“I’m coming to get you,” Hewitt’s boss says firmly. “Don’t wander off. Don’t touch anything.”

“Uh, sure,” Cisco says, glancing back at the mess he’s made of the desk. He takes another bite of twizzler. “Can do.”

“Don’t touch anything else,” Doctor Wells amends, clearly familiar with this young man and his mode of operation. “Hewitt, get Mr. Ramon anything he needs, but don’t let him-”

Doctor Wells is cut off as Mr. Ramon pokes at the interface again, inadvertently ending the call.

He glances at Hewitt, sheepish. “Oops. My bad.” His mistake doesn’t stop him from continuing to play with the interface, flipping through screens. Mr. Ramon hmms when he figures out how to bring up the software coding, the twizzler now dangling from his mouth as he uses both hands to navigate. Hewitt wonders how his boss had ever met a young man such as this, and what it was that made Doctor Wells so warm toward him. The only person Hewitt had ever seen tease Harrison Wells was his daughter. Hewitt was glad that Doctor Wells had someone special in his life, but he did hope the young man didn’t break in again.

Hewitt takes a detour to the security office to add Cisco Ramon to the approved guest list - and buys some antacid to keep in his desk. Just in case.


Ramon had become quite the fixture in their labs over the month he’d been there. Doctor Eliza Harmon liked him. He was upbeat and cute, plus he had this ability to distract Doctor Wells before he could yell. Ramon was also really intelligent, though he appeared oddly uninformed about some of the latest advancements in technology. Still, it was a pleasure to teach him. He’d been given his own lab bench to experiment under everyone’s watchful eye and his pleasure at their generosity had left everyone smiling.

He wanders in sometime after lunch with an offhand comment about being thrown out of Doctor Wells’ lab. Nobody’s sure if he’s actually allowed inside - the only one who had ever been in there was his daughter - but given their mysterious, close relationship, it’s entirely plausible. Ramon sets a box full of miscellaneous items down on his table, pulling the items out at random, and begins to take things apart. Eliza goes back to her own work, though she sneaks peeks at him occasionally. He really is cute, she thinks.

Some time later Harrison Wells himself sweeps through the door, his perpetual frown in place. Everything gets still in the lab, people going silent, like prey sensing a predator. Doctor Wells didn’t often venture down here. While he was kept apprised of their work, he only showed up when there was a problem or when a project was near completion. “You’re all intelligent adults or you wouldn’t work here. Act like it,” he’d say, and everybody would strive to prove themselves.

Doctor Wells stops next to Ramon, and Eliza feels a stir of nerves. She hopes he won’t yell about giving Ramon his own space. They weren’t technically supposed to, but Ramon had been so smart and eager -

“Stop that,” Ramon says and elbows Wells in the stomach. “You’re looming. Again .” Wells rubs his stomach as though that gentle hit actually hurt. His frown is less severe now, though he still looks annoyed.

“I will only ask once,” he says. “Give it back.”

Ramon turns to look at him, brown eyes wide and innocent. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. If you lost something, maybe you should try not throwing things.”

“I can throw things if I want to,” Wells grumbles. “It’s my lab.”

Ramon rolls his eyes. “This is why you can’t find anything.”

“I can’t find anything because you keep taking them.”

“How dare you make such accusations! Your things are where you left them. That screwdriver yesterday was in the corner, where you threw it,” Ramon’s tone is almost playful. He crosses his arms over his chest and tilts his head. The corner of his mouth is curled up, like he’s amused. Eliza edges away from the two until she’s standing next to Jason Rusch.

"Are you seeing this?” She mutters. Doctor Wells is glaring at Ramon now, but it has none of the heat she’s used to seeing. He’s backed Ramon up until he’s against the table, using his height to full looming advantage. Cisco’s body language remains open and soft, not at all alarmed to have someone in his personal space.

“I think I’m dreaming,” Jason agrees quietly. “This can’t be reality.”

“It’s my favorite marker,” Doctor Wells complains. He’s whining , Eliza realizes. Like a petulant child. Eliza has worked here for years, has seen Wells in all manner of moods, but he seems almost approachable like this.

“Why, because it’s monogrammed?” Cisco asked snottily.

“Return it immediately,” Wells says calmly, holding one hand out expectantly.

“I don’t have it! Just because I know what specific item you’re looking for -” Ramon scrambles to get away from Wells as he reaches his hands out, grabbing at Ramon’s hips. Wells wraps an arm around Ramon and hauls him close. He reaches down with his other hand and begins to search through Ramon’s pockets as though he has every right to invade his space. Ramon continues to struggle, though it looks halfhearted at best. Eliza’s mouth is hanging open now.

Wells steps back, a single marker held aloft. His small smile is smug. “Now was that so hard?”

“Asshole,” Ramon huffs, smoothing down his wrinkled shirt. Wells doesn’t react, merely steps back and slides the marker into his own pocket.

“If you’re quite finished playing around with that, I think I have the solution to your Thinker problem.” Wells turns and begins to walk away, clearly expecting Ramon to follow. Ramon lingers however, taking his time putting everything back in the box.

“Ramon!” Wells yells, and Ramon smirks. He gives everyone a wide, friendly smile as he passes by, looking more cheerful than when he came in. He doesn’t return for the rest of the evening, or the next day.

“Who is he?” Jason wonders, and Eliza thinks about Ramon and Wells’ easy way of sharing space, the way they bicker like a married couple, and gets an inkling.


The breakroom was empty despite the lunch hour, with most scientists too deep into their research to take notice of rumbling stomachs. Brie Larvan always makes sure to take lunch at this time for that reason; she hates crowds and the intrusive buzz of conversation. Lately, however, she hasn’t been the only one utilizing the state of the art cooking equipment. Cisco can frequently be found there, cooking colorful, delicious smelling food. Brie has toyed with asking him for recipes, but so far has not done more than covertly watch him cook.

He’s in the room now, doing cooking type things. Brie glances down at her frozen meal and sighs wistfully. She opens her mouth to finally ask for cooking tips (maybe if she looks pathetic enough he’ll just give her food), but a loud squeal from the doorway interrupts.

“Cisco, when did you get here?” Jesse greets, and flings herself at Cisco, hugging him from behind. Cisco laughs and pats her hands, looking genuinely pleased to see her. Jesse lets go, her eyes bright, and tugs on a lock of his hair. Cisco reels her in for another hug, one he can reciprocate, and holds on until she wiggles away.

“Long time no see,” Cisco says. “I wasn’t sure I was going to get to see you this visit. Your dad tells me you’re off being an independent college woman.”

Jesse rolls her eyes. “As independent as I can be. You know what dad’s like.”

Cisco nods. “Remember the time with the hot dog vendor -”

“Oh god, I remember,” Jesse half groans, half laughs. “Which wasn’t as bad as the time as the lady with the bag of -”

“- right, and Harry with the spray bottle -”

“He is impossible,” Jesse sighs, shaking her head. Cisco returns her smile, their eyes twinkling, the soft expression on their faces speaking of deep affection. Brie shares a look with her coworkers. There isn’t much that she’s seen of Harrison Wells that lends itself to fondness - but then, she isn’t his daughter or his significant other. It’s hard to imagine Harrison Wells surrounded by such bright, cheerful people. A spiteful part of Brie hopes they irritate him regularly; he deserves it after all the yelling he does. Brie sneaks a peek at Cisco in those fitted pair of pants and wonders why all the good ones are taken.

“I had wondered why dad wasn’t being so nosy,” Jesse muses. “Guess I have you to thank for distracting him.”

“Ha, I doubt it was me. Like I could distract Harry,” Cisco scoffs, waving one hand dismissively. “It was probably our super secret, awesome project.”

Jesse rolls her eyes and bumps him with her shoulder.

“If anyone could, it’d be you,” she argues. “I think he left me alone for a whole twelve hours once, when the two of you were buried in your workshop.”

“Was that the time we tried to build a lightsaber? I still have the plans for that, I have a couple new ideas -”

“Is this how it’s going to be? You swing by to see him before you do your own father?” Wells interrupts, popping around the corner. His face is flushed, presumably from running through the building to find his daughter. Despite his words, his smile is soft and wide, aimed at the both of them. Cisco’s face lights up in greeting, brown eyes wide. Brie wishes someone would look at her like that. He takes a couple steps closer, like now that Wells is in proximity Cisco is drawn to him, two bodies on a collision course.

“I can see you all the time,” Jesse says, but she stands on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. Wells wraps an arm around Jesse’s shoulders and holds her close. Brie feels uncomfortably like she’s intruding on a private moment. She wishes she could escape, but the only way out of this corridor is past the happy family. She’d really rather not draw attention to herself - Wells isn’t known for being easy going, and everyone knows that anything concerning his daughter is off limits.

“Were you just going to hog Cisco for his whole visit?” Jesse demands. Wells shrugs, the corner of his mouth still curled up.

“Maybe if you came home…” he trails off leadingly.

“Phones, dad. You could have called.”

“Hey, now. It’s partially my fault. I showed up here and wanted a tour of the lab, and then I asked Harry about a couple of ongoing projects…” Cisco broke in. He leans against the wall near them, arms crossed over his chest.

“I suppose I’m lucky you two have left the labs at all,” Jesse sighs.

“You can’t expect me to come visit Ear- uh, Central City, and not leave STAR labs sometimes for sight seeing,” Cisco exclaims. “I had photos to take! Adventures to document.”

“Selfies,” Wells grunts, grimacing.

“So many selfies,” Cisco agrees.

“Oooh, can I see?” Jesse asks. “Did you convince my dad to be in some?”

“Hell yeah,” Cisco says enthusiastically. “He channeled his inner grumpy cat the whole time, it really adds to the joy of the photos.” He’s got his hands in his pocket, tugging out his phone, as Jesse bounces over.

“Perhaps we can do this over dinner?” Harry says, sounding long-suffering. “We can swing by to take something home.”

“Big Belly Burger?” Jesse offers, glancing at Cisco.

“The taste of home,” Cisco agrees. He offers his arm to Jesse, who takes it with a giggle, and they bounce off ahead, Harrison Wells trailing behind, shaking his head at their antics. Just before he turns the corner, he shoots Brie and her group a stern, humorless glance. Everyone scatters, heading back to their own labs. Brie glances back at Cisco and the Wells only once, marveling at how at ease all three are with one another, how well they fit.


The voices were coming from outside the lab, growing louder as the speakers moved closer. Lindsey Kang moved closer to the door and peeked out. It was Cisco and Wells, just like she thought. Everyone was just so curious about those two. Ramon came out of nowhere, charmed everybody he came in contact with, and had a mysterious past with Harrison Wells. Gossip was worth its weight in gold in the labs; Lindsey could probably get lunch for free for a week if she overheard something good.

“You’re going back with me, right? We could really use your help against the Thinker -”

“I’ve given you plenty of help already,” Harry interrupts.

“- and you can even reclaim your pulse rifle. I know you miss it,” Cisco teases, pushing at Wells’ shoulder. Wells rolls his eyes, swaying with the hit before shifting closer to Cisco until their shoulders are brushing as they walk.. Lindsey blinks in surprise - Wells carried a rifle? He knew how to wield something other than a sharp tongue? She’s beginning to wonder if Cisco and Wells aren’t involved in something clandestine, the sort of thing that involves explosive science, guns, and secrecy.

Wells shakes his head, his dimples deepening as he fights not to smile. “It’s more needed where you’re going. I’m sure Joe is taking care of it.”

Cisco sighs, exasperated. “We need you , Harry. As much as it pains me to admit.”

“Is this how you convince everybody to do what you want? With such grudging appreciation?”

“Ha, I will have you know that I can be very smooth when I want to be. My charm is simply wasted on you, that’s all. Don’t think you’ve distracted me!” Cisco adds.

“I can’t leave Jesse, and I have much to atone for here. I can’t leave my work half-finished.” Harry purses his lips, glancing out the large windows, at Central City.

“Oh, but you can leave your friends abandoned. I see how it is.” Cisco put his hand over his heart dramatically, shaking his head. His eyes get big and sad. Wells shakes his head fondly again - something he seems to do a lot around Cisco - and rests his hand on Cisco’s shoulder.

“You’re hardly abandoned when you can portal in whenever you wish,” Wells replies. Lindsey frowns. They’ve used that phrase before, like this was an episode of Wormhole X-treme. It’s an odd way to phrase traveling. It just adds to her theory that there’s something big going on behind the scenes.

“Yeah, but you refuse to go back with me,” Cisco continues to argue.

“It’s not an emergency.”

“Maybe everyone just misses you, you ever think of that?”

This seems to bring Wells up short, uncharacteristically at a loss for words. He slows to a stop, his mouth parting in surprise. Lindsey feels a pang of pity for him. Wells is an asshole to be sure, but nobody should look so surprised that people care enough to miss you when you’re not around. Cisco seems to feel the same way, reaching out to grip Wells’ sleeve, his expression gentle. He gives Wells’ arm a shake.

“Dude,” Cisco says quietly, “You would not believe all the messages and gifts everyone sent along. A bag full of stuff has been sitting in your living room all week.”

Wells’ clears his throat. His voice is gruff when he says, “Perhaps a short visit wouldn’t be out of the question.”

Cisco laughs softly. “They’ll be glad to hear it. Nobody’s thrown anything in the lab in weeks. And we still need to get back at Barry for scaring us during our horror movie swap.”

Wells abruptly begins walking, leaving Cisco behind. He scrambles to catch up, making faces at Wells’ back. Lindsey ducks back into her lab, still listening in.

“I was hardly scared.”

“Scared,” Cisco says insistently.

“Startled,” Wells counters firmly.

“You threw the popcorn bowl at him,” Cisco says, pointing sternly.

“He had it coming,” Wells replies. “I recall you screaming like a girl.”

Cisco ignores that, speeding up so he can walk backwards in front of Wells, hands gesturing as he talks. “He did have it coming. But I think wasting the popcorn hurt us more than it did Barry, even if you did hit him in the head.”

Wells looks almost nostalgic, clearly remembering the event in question. Lindsey thinks it’s cute they have movie nights together, though she wonders at this Barry still being alive. She’s seen what Wells is like when he and Cisco are in their own little bubble and get interrupted. She’d rather have a performance review than go through that.

“Fine,” Wells concedes, sounding long suffering. “I will gate back with you, reclaim my rifle, and help you exact revenge on Barry.”

“Don’t even lie, you’re excited,” Cisco says, and they share a smile. As they move down the corridor, Wells’ hand lifts to rest against Cisco’s lower back, guiding him around the corner.


“You’ll come back for a visit, won’t you?” Eliza asks, pouting a little. Jason rolls his eyes at how obvious she is being while Brie giggles, one hand covering her mouth. Cisco smiles kindly at her, looking at her - at all the people gathered to say goodbye - with open affection.

“Of course I will,” he promises. “You can’t keep me away.”

“We’re all going to miss you,” Brie says, swooping in to give him a hug. “Though none more so than Doctor Wells, I suspect.”

“Oh, um,” Cisco replies, patting her awkwardly on the back. “That’s...certainly one way of looking at it.”

“Isn’t Doctor Wells going with you?” Kang broke in, looking curious. She was leaning against a wall, arms crossed. Everyone perked up at her question, doing nothing to hide their curiosity. Cisco blinks, a little surprised. He scratches one cheek, staring at her consideringly. Finally, he shrugs.

“He has some things to wrap up first, but he’ll pop over later.”

“Will he be gone as long this time?” Brie asks brightly. “He was gone for months, before.”

“I...can’t really say,” Cisco says evasively. “Who knows what goes on in that cranky brain of his?”

But clearly Cisco does know, avoiding everyone’s eyes and looking mildly uncomfortable about everyone staring at him. Jason feels bad for him; it’s not his fault he’s dating their boss, the person who has been the focus of many jokes about his robot-like emotions. Even he was caught up in the fascination of seeing their boss smile and flirt.

“I’m sure you have more insight,” Eliza laughs, “seeing as you’re dating him.”

What ?” Cisco says, really loudly. Next to him, Eliza startles at his volume, taking a step back and landing on a chemists’ foot. Kang straightens up from her lean, and Brie blinks at him from behind her glasses. Cisco stares back at them, cheeks flushed, eyes wide. He reaches up to rub at his forehead.

“Harry and I, we’re -”

“- going to be late if you don’t get a move on,” Jesse interrupts, appearing out of nowhere, hair askew. She sends Eliza a warning look, though for what Jason couldn’t begin to guess. Jesse puts her hand on Cisco’s shoulder and starts to pull him from the room. “Say goodbye, Cisco.”

“Goodbye,” Cisco repeats dutifully. His dazed face is the last thing they see as he’s dragged around the corner, heading up toward Wells’ office.

There is confused silence for a moment, and then: “That was weird,” Eliza says.

“Maybe they thought we wouldn’t know?” Jason suggests.

“How could we not ?” Brie exclaims. “They were not subtle.”  There are murmurs of agreement from everyone.

It wasn’t just the way they shared space and tools, the inside jokes, their habit of speaking in unison. It was the way Wells deliberately moved a tool out of reach to get Cisco to roll his eyes, the way Cisco continuously stole Doctor Wells’ stuff and hid them. The way Wells’ hovered over Cisco’s shoulder like a rangy guard dog and Cisco had constantly checked to make sure Wells was nearby. Jason couldn’t explain it, but watching them interact had left him with the feeling that there was a lot more going on, deeper down, than he could see.

Jason can’t believe they are all wrong about the status of Cisco and Wells’ relationship. They were probably just trying to keep it a secret, Jason decides, given the age gap. Confident in his conclusion, he leaves the others to their speculation.


“Do you know what your scientists think?” Cisco blurts late one night, when time feels like taffy and old, cold coffee was all that was at hand. Harry doesn’t look up from the engine he’s building, hands steady.

“Care to be more specific?” He asks finally, just as he manages to get the tiny metal piece in place. He’d been working on that one piece for three hours now, give or take an hour. Specificity is for emergencies and the bright light of day, he decides. He carefully sets the tool aside and stretches in his seat, grunting with satisfaction when his back cracks.

“About us,” Cisco elaborates, gesturing between them with one hand.

Harry spares him a quick glance, taking in Cisco’s wild hair and tired eyes. Despite the late hour, he’s competently putting together the next piece to their weapon, hands working quickly. They’ll have the device finished by morning, which leaves them a whole day of field testing before handing it over to Barry.

"I would hope they would have better things to do than think about us,” Harry replies.

“It’s like you never worked in a lab with other people,” Cisco marvels for a moment. He pushes away from the work table. “Of course they were talking about us.”

“So?” Harry asks, waving one hand in a gesture that conveys hurry up . Once Cisco completes that piece, they’ll fit everything together and then head to bed.

“So,” Cisco says slowly, fiddling with the wire in his hand. His head is down, hair obscuring his face, and Harry has only a moment to realize what’s coming, to think oh before Cisco is continuing, “They think we’re dating.”

“Ah,” Harry says for lack of better response.

“Is that all you can say?” Cisco demands, glaring at Harry now. He crosses his arms over his chest. “We’re not just talking one of your scientists, but many of them, from different disciplines.”

“Hmm,” Harry replies, still at a loss.

“They’re pretty smart,” Cisco continues. “I can’t help but wonder what makes them think that we’re making a beast with two backs.”

“Can you not call it that,” Harry grumbles, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“What do you want me to call it?” Cisco sasses. “Aggressive cuddling? Assault with a friendly weapon?”

“Don’t,” Harry shakes his head, grimacing.


“Stop,” Harry says as sternly as he can.

“Making whoopee?” Cisco suggests, grinning.

“Ugh.” Harry gets up from his stool and approaches Cisco, who doesn’t even bother backing away. He’s too busy counting off the many euphemisms for sex he knows - and seriously, what is wrong with this Earth, why do they have so many?

“Bumping uglies?”

“How about just calling it a relationship?” Harry suggests, circling Cisco. He twists in his seat, keeping Harry in his sight.

“I don’t know,” Cisco says, frowning a little. “I’m not sure I can believe that anyone would look at us and think those two are in a healthy, committed relationship .”

“Why not?” Harry counters. He steps closer to Cisco, who remains sitting. Cisco tilts his head up to look at Harry. Harry reaches out and brushes a lock of hair out of Cisco’s face. His breathing is getting more shallow, almost a pant.

“I can see us in a relationship. Can’t you?”

“Uh,” Cisco mutters shakily. “Yes? I mean, yes. Maybe.”

“Only maybe?” Harry asks, amused. He leans down a little. They’re breathing the same air now. The air feels still and intimate. Harry can’t say he hasn’t thought about Cisco before, in an abstract way, and maybe he froze a moment there when Cisco actually put to words the connection between them, but Harry is fully on board now. He isn’t afraid of hard work if it means getting what he wants, and Cisco is definitely that.

“If you don’t kiss me right now,” Cisco says seriously, “I’m going to buy Wally and Jesse an all expenses paid cruise to -”

Harry starts the kiss firm and close mouthed. He means it only as a way to shut Cisco up, but instead the kiss deepens, Cisco’s mouth opening, their tongues brushing. It’s warm and sweet and maybe a little dirty. Cisco’s hands grip Harry’s shirt tight, keeping him close. His lips are soft and cling to Harry’s when he pulls away. Cisco sits there, eyes closed, mouth slightly parted, and Harry knows, with the same certainty he felt when he held Jesse for the first time, that he would march into hell for Cisco Ramon.

“I need to send them a gift basket,” Cisco murmurs, and Harry hides his smile in Cisco’s hair.