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day twelve: holidays

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The lab is pink. The lab definitely should not be pink.

Hartley instantly knows that HR is behind this. There’s no one else in the lab who would do this kind of nonsense. HR with his coffee and his stupid smile and his perkiness. Hartley is going to kill him.

Hartley is not a morning person.

He swings by Cisco’s workshop, finding his boyfriend draped over over a chair muttering, “Balloons, balloons.”

“You’re seen them too, huh?” Hartley throws himself into the other desk chair. “I am going to scoop his throat out with a melon baller and throw him off a cliff.”

Without comment, Cisco takes a breakfast bar out of a drawer and tosses it across the room. Hartley catches it, unwrapping it gratefully. “He’s already had about five espressos this morning. Any more coffee and he’s going to vibrate out of his skin.”

Hartley swallows his mouthful of granola bar and says pointedly, “I would not object to that.” Cisco laughs. “Are we still on for dinner tonight?”

“Unless something Big Bad-related happens, I think so.” Cisco spins in his chair. “The cosmos probably has some BS planned to ruin our night.”

“I still think Valentine’s Day is overrated,” Hartley informs him. “Why would you only be extra romantic to your partner one day out of the year?”

“Hart, we’ve talked about this.” Cisco casually throws a few papers off his desk, and Hartley isn’t sure the action it seems so sweet to him. He would have been irritated if anyone else had done it. “It’s not just one day to be romantic. We’re living proof that you can be romantic on any day. Valentine’s Day is a celebration of your relationship .”

Hartley deadpans, “We’re celebrated our relationship a lot,” which makes Cisco throw an exasperated-yet-amused smile at him. “It’s a capitalist trap, anyway.”

Snorting, Cisco find the paper he’s looking for and makes a few marks on it in pen. “Says the rich guy.” Hartley just laughs.

Then Caitlin screams from the Speed Lab, and an alarm blares, and they have to go into action mode, but the conversation isn’t done. Actually, the conversation picks up because in a couple hours, they have a conventionally-attractive badass viber locked in their basement.

“I heard her flirting with you,” Hartley says as soon as they’re alone again, and there’s a bit of a complaint in his voice. “‘We’re connected, Cisco. All vibers are connected.’”

“She wasn’t flirting with me!” Cisco’s face changes from chagrin to realization. “Was she?” Hartley fixes him with a stare that he thinks is quite expressive. “Even if she was, I’m yours and not hers.”

“Nice save. Happy Valentine’s Day; we just put someone in jail.” Hartley captures his boyfriend’s lips in a searing kiss that Cisco breaks far too soon.

“You know I have to interrogate her soon,” Cisco says, his lips slightly redder than normal. “Want to come with?”

“Mm-hm. I can stare her if she says anything flirtatious.” Hartley has Cisco backed up against his desk now, trapping him. “If we talk to her, we’ll probably uncover information that needs following up, and then we’ll have to investigate, and save the day, and cancel our dinner date.”

They decide to let Cynthia wait until tomorrow. There are more important things to do.