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Running Gag

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They're in a bar again, this time a small pub full of craft beers and college hipsters. Barry's feeling a little old looking at the clientele but puts it out of his mind because the beers aren't bad and the company is nice. More than nice—Cisco has cemented himself as a fixture of Barry's life as sure as Joe and Iris. They all have. The very idea of trying to be a hero without the comfort of Cisco, Caitlin, and Dr Wells' voices in his ear is strange and lonely.

But Cisco is different. Or that's what Barry's brain has been insisting since Cisco confessed about his history with Hartley, since Barry found out Cisco's bi and can't stop thinking about what it'd really be like to move past Iris. Pining after Iris had sucked but it was straightforward. Now Barry doesn't know what he wants because there are too many options.

At the next lull in the conversation he decides to finally broach the subject. "I've been trying to think of something to tell you, y'know, like you told me about Hartley. But I can't think of anything you don't already know."

Cisco leans back from his beer, waving a hand in front of his face in dismissal. "You don't have to do anything."

"I know, but I want to." Cisco has the kind of openness that invites trust, like Barry could talk about every embarrassing moment of his life and none of it would come back to bite him.

After a long pull of beer, Cisco shakes his head. "If we were really being fair, I'd tell you more."

"More what?" Barry takes a drink to match, wishing yet again he could get drunk.

"Anything. C'mon, Barry, you haven't noticed?" Every word comes out a little harsher, like he's angry. But none of it feels like anger at Barry. "You're an open book about everything. I know about your secret identity, the girl you like, your childhood, I've hung out with your foster dad—a full wiki article. But me? You got nothing."

"That's not true. I know lots of things about you. I know you care about your friends, that you respect Dr Wells, that your favorite Star Trek character is Jadzia Dax—"

Cisco cuts in. "Where did I grow up?"

"Uh," Barry reaches for the memory and finds nothing solid. "Detroit?"

"Are you sure?" he presses.

"No, but—"

Cisco's hand tightens around the glass, the smooth solidity reassuring. Don't tell him, don't tell him. "Do you know about my family? What my life was like growing up? My—"

"Cisco, if you want to tell me I'd be happy to hear it. But you don't have to to be my friend." Barry looks up with his earnest eyes. "I'm ok with not knowing that because I know what matters: who you are right now."

"Barry—" He cuts himself off before the words can spill out. No, he left all that family bullshit behind. It's in the past, like fucking Hartley and everything else.

"I'd like to hear more about you." Barry smiles, looking to the side in embarrassment. "But it doesn't have to be about your past. It can be anything."

Something else, anything else, just let a little out and then the past will stop wanting to spill over into the present. "I—I talked to you all the time when you were in the coma. I told you everything, like, confessional levels of everything." Talking to the guy who couldn't wake up had been better than pretending he wasn't there. "Is that creepy? What am I saying it's super creepy, like only-a-romcom-can-make-you-forget-it's-creepy levels of creepy, oh god."

Barry shrugs like it's no big deal. "Did it help?"

No point in not being honest. "Yeah, it did. A lot. After the explosion Ronnie was gone and Caitlin was in mourning so I was out of people to talk to." He smiles, strained. "You offered terrible advice."

"Oh, did I?" Barry laughs. "Like what?"

Cisco can't maintain the joke. "Like that it's not super-weird to talk to a comatose guy and imagine While You Were Sleeping scenarios."

Barry frowns, trying to remember the movie. He'd only heard about it secondhand. "Wouldn't that mean you'd be falling for Iris or something?"

"That's not the point, Barry." Cisco retreats into his beer.

"Then what is?" His eyebrows rise. "Your love of Sandra Bullock romcoms?"

Cisco's voice is small, hesitant. "I watched those with my mom."

"Only because of your mom?" Barry hopes that making a joke of it will pull things back out of whatever sad, uncomfortable territory they've fallen into.

It does, Cisco puffing up in exaggerated defensiveness. "I'm man enough to admit I have a weakness for romcoms in general. Anything else you want to know?"

Barry sighs. "You really don't have to, Cisco. My dad was in prison when I was in school. I get not wanting to talk about family, ok? I won't pry."

Cisco raises his hands, emphatic. "I know, but I want to." The fingers curl in like they're wilting. "Or sorta want to? Or—"

Barry spreads an open palm. "Tell me something easier, then." The angle of his body, the look on his face, it all says he could be flirting with Cisco.

They're sitting so close their shoulders brush. Barry's emphasis on Cisco being comfortable, his sweet smiles, his awesome superspeed—god, he's so close to perfect it feels like a trick. Cisco says the first thing that comes to mind. "I like your moles." His insides churn in protest at mentioning the thing that's been building between them ever since he came out.

"Really? I always thought they were kinda ugly. Everyone likes freckles but moles are only ok if you have one little beauty mark, not," he waves at his face, clearly having no idea how cute he is, "paint splatter."

"Some of it's selfish. I'm not exactly lacking in the mole department myself." Cisco rubs a finger over the ones on the bridge of his nose. "But when I see you without your shirt it's hard not to think about, um, connecting the dots."

Barry laughs in a short burst, somewhere between startled and delighted. "In a sexy way?"

"Well, yeah." This was not how he'd pictured flirting with Barry, this is all wrong. "Oh god I'm being weird again, this is why I never get any dates, me and my big mouth. Hartley was—"

"A jerk. And he isn't here right now." Barry's hand is heavy as it reaches out, touching a thumb to the mole under Cisco's lip. Stubble pricks under his fingertip. "Cisco…" he trails off, not sure what to do next. He does want this but Cisco knows things are complicated so maybe he thinks they shouldn't go any further.

"Screw it," Cisco says as he puts his hands on Barry's shoulders and leans over for a kiss. It's too light, too tentative; Barry is chasing after Cisco's lips as they try to retreat. Cisco's hands shift to the back of Barry's neck, fingers brushing the short hair, then his lips are back. The stubble is—well, it's a little strange, but Cisco's lips are soft and plush and eager. Barry's opening his mouth to the kiss before his brain has a chance to come up with excuses why he shouldn't.

Cisco hasn't done as much kissing as he would've liked to in his life. Nothing's going wrong but it feels like his lack of experience will become suddenly apparent and embarrassing and shove him back into the "awkward sexless nerd" stereotype he's been stuck in so many years.

Barry pulls back and all Cisco can hear is the echo of Hartley's mockery, nobody will ever find you appealing, you're pathetic, you're—

"We should go somewhere." Barry's face is flushed pink. "Somewhere not a bar?"

"Oh, right." It feels like every eye in the room is on them, though the only person Cisco can see is some guy with a giant beard giving them a thumbs-up as he salutes with his beer. "Good plan."

They leave their mostly-empty glasses behind, bumping into each other in clumsy eagerness to get out. Once outside, Cisco turns to ask Barry where they're going when he finds Barry stooping to pick him up. Cisco wraps his arms around Barry's neck, heart pounding that he gets to experience superspeed firsthand.

"I really hope I don't puke," he says into Barry's ear as the wind whips around them. Some of his hair gets into his mouth and Cisco spends the remaining seconds of the run clawing it out of his face. Maybe it's time to break out the hair ties again.

Barry didn’t ask for directions and the bedroom they've arrived in is unfamiliar. Cisco looks around. "Your room?"

"Yeah," Barry bounces on his feet, nervous. He really should've picked up some of his dirty clothes, or made his bed, or put away his books; he looks like a slob. Except this is Cisco; he won't judge. A little tension eases out. "That ok?"

Cisco's eyes dart around. "Is Joe home?"

Barry shakes his head furiously. "No! Oh god no. Poker night. He stays over when he drinks."

"Good." Cisco's smile widens. "Really good."

Barry takes a step closer, hand touching Cisco's arm. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Cisco feels hyper-aware of how close they are, in a bedroom. It's really happening. He steps in so they're almost chest-to-chest. All of Barry's moles stand out, mere inches away.

Cisco feels a finger tilting his chin up and wonders how the hell somebody can pull off a move that smooth. This time they kiss with their mouths open, tentative explorations of tongue. Cisco's hands are grabbing handfuls of Barry's shirt and pulling him closer. Barry's arms wrap around Cisco, fingers brushing the waistband of Cisco's jeans.

Every fantasy Cisco's had—which, ok, were a lot because imagining relationships feels less sad than acknowledging his lack of them—pushes for attention in Cisco's head. He doesn't know how long this will last so he has to pick a favorite and run with it. "Barry, I want to—"

"Yes, good idea," Barry says between kisses without stopping to hear what it is.

Cisco pulls back a little and drops to his knees.

"Oh god, Cisco." His breath comes heavily. "But, um." He struggles for the word, "Floor?"

Barry's floor is hardwood. Even at the prospect of oral sex Barry can't stop thinking about other people. God, Cisco wants to make him feel good. "Bed?"

"Yes." A wild split second of movement and they're both lying on it sans shoes.

"That will never stop being amazing," Cisco laughs. His heart is tripping over itself in excitement. Superpowers are the coolest and he's already hard. He crawls over Barry, wrists and knees brushing Barry's sides. His hair falls down so it's almost touching Barry's face. "You're amazing."

Barry's hands come up and tuck Cisco's hair back behind his ears. The left side immediately falls down again, which is somehow cute. "So are you." His fingers sink into the long black hair and pull Cisco down for a kiss. The kiss is all soft sliding lips and tiny pleased grunts Cisco doesn't seem to realize he's making, but Cisco keeps holding his body apart like he's afraid too much contact will scare Barry away.

Barry disengages from the kiss but doesn't pull away, letting their breaths mingle. "Take off my shirt."


"Take off my shirt," Barry says again, the words colliding into each other in desperation. He looks up, the amber-blue-green of his eyes sharp. "Cisco."

His name is almost a plea. With fumbling fingers he tries to comply, plastic discs slipping and refusing to push through cloth slots as buttons become unfamiliar and challenging. "I hate buttons," Cisco hisses, but then the last one finally pops and he can push the halves of Barry's shirt apart. The pale torso looks like it's never seen the sun and it's somehow more enticing when framed by cloth than all the times Barry has been shirtless in Cisco's presence. Not that he's complaining about the shirtlessness.

"Are you going to stare at me all day?" Barry laughs, more than a little flattered how Cisco goes glassy-eyed and speechless at a little skin. Cisco looks at Barry like a gift, like he can't quite believe he's lucky enough to be here.

Cisco makes a noise as if his response got caught in his throat. He plants his hands on either side of Barry's head and leans down to kiss the duo of moles like a snake bite on his left collarbone. He moves out to kiss the one on his shoulder, then back in to kiss the ones closer to the center of his chest.

Barry doesn't know how many moles he has but they could be here for hours if Cisco wants to get them all. The thought of lying in bed with Cisco all night isn't bad at all. Cisco's enthusiastic and whole-hearted about science, it makes sense he'd be the same way in a relationship. He puts a hand in Cisco's hair, encouraging. It's nice to lay back and have somebody pay so much attention to every little detail.

Cisco doesn't get very far into the mole kissing before it's too much to take. "I want to suck you off."

"What?" Barry tries to get his brain back in gear. "You want to?"

"Dude, oral fixation." Cisco has always loved having things in his mouth and after so many jokes about it he decided it's better to just be blunt. "Don't tell me you haven't noticed. Everybody notices."

"I, uh, noticed." Cisco has full lips, the pink giving them extra emphasis and the very idea of them wrapped around—oh. "Baseball."

For a moment Cisco is confused, then he gets it. "Dead puppies? A whole kennel?"

His body aches with every heartbeat, god, he's so hard it feels like he'll burst. "Yeah."

"Maybe we should take a minute to get rid of all these clothes?" Cisco sits back and tugs at his shirt, warping the Wheatley Laboratories logo. "I mean, if that's cool with you."

Barry gets out from under Cisco and gets his shirt the rest of the way off. "Yeah, yeah. Should we—"

Cisco holds up his hands. "Wait. How fast can you strip me down?"

Barry changed Caitlin's clothes with a minimum of touching and avoiding underwear, but it's close enough to estimate. "A few seconds."

"Is it easier if I stand up?"

"I'll figure it out. Just relax, ok?"

Cisco nods, heart thumping as Barry backs away to get some room.

There's a rush of air and the strange sense of his limbs moving before he can truly register they have and then Cisco is naked. "Oh my god that's so cool!" Blink and all the annoying clothes are out of the way, it's like a dream. An impossible dream, to be here with Barry.

Barry grins, getting back onto the bed as Cisco shifts over to meet him with open arms. They tumble back, skin on skin—

"You forgot your socks," Cisco laughs as he feels the fabric brushing his legs.

Barry flushes and rolls to the side to reach down and pull them off. It contorts his body into odd angles, emphasizing the long line of his back.

Cisco pulls his legs in, crossing his arms over the folds of pudge on his stomach. Barry is lean all the places Cisco's sugar-heavy nerd lifestyle shows through. He knows it's dumb to compare himself to somebody with a metahuman boost to his metabolism. It's not like he thinks he's fat or anything, but—

"Cisco?" Barry's moved his head to where Cisco's staring down at the sheets. "You ok?"

"Yeah." He smiles wide, hating the way his chest squeezes in shame. Hartley's voice is back: The only reason he's with you is pity. "Now we're successfully naked."

"I noticed," he says with a laugh, leaning closer. "You still want to..." Barry trails off, leaving it a question.

Barry has Iris, has Linda, has probably any other girl he aims that guileless grin at, but right now he's here with Cisco. Cisco knows there's only has so much time before he's crushed by the gravity between Barry and Iris. Maybe they'll last, maybe they won't. Either way his window is limited. No sense in wasting what he's got. Fuck you, Hartley. "Hell yes!"

"Where do you want me?"

Cisco is sure he'll remember that phrase for a long, long time. He's here, he's really here naked in bed with naked Barry who has superpowers and is grinning and if Cisco could tell his 12-year-old self about this it would've made the last decade so much easier. He eyes the length of the bed. It's a little short for both of them. "Lean back against the headboard."

The break has calmed Barry down a little. Maybe now he won't run the risk of Cisco's warning coming true. But even if it does, Cisco isn't the kind of guy that'd get angry or laugh at him about it; he'd come up with some creative workaround. Barry stacks up his pillows and leans back. It's more than a little weird to do this in the room where he grew up but so much has changed over the years it isn't really the same place anymore. Folding his arms behind his head and stretching his legs out, Barry sucks in his stomach and relishes the way Cisco flushes. "This ok?"

"Super ok," Cisco says with strangled breath. He puts a hand on Barry's chest and leans in to kiss the shoulder mole again. "The only reason I'm able to talk to you right now is I had 9 months to get used to your face."

The laughter means that Barry doesn't believe him. Barry Allen, always thinking the best of people even when it means ignoring how awkward Cisco is around hot people. His arms come down and land on Cisco's shoulders, urging him up.

Cisco leans into the kiss, wet mouths and hot breath. Their bodies aren't quite touching. Cisco is pretty sure he'll melt into a puddle if they touch too much and that isn't sexy.

By some unspoken agreement they pull back. Barry leans on the pile of pillows with one leg obscuring his junk and Cisco kneels between his legs with one hand preserving some useless semblance of modesty, and they look at each other, really look.

Barry's slim all the way down, narrow shoulders and hips that flare out a little. He has the beginnings of hip creases, hints of muscle without the bodybuilder deliberateness gym rats like Ronnie have. Seeing all his moles at once makes it clear just how speckled he is. Cisco wonders how many people have seen them all. Barry is all long eager limbs and barely contained energy and affection, like a greyhound.

Cisco is small but solid. He avoids looking weedy, petite, or effeminate because his frame is too broad. His shoulders and arms have enough bulk Barry is sure he'd lose in arm-wrestling, or would've before the accident. He's strong in a way that isn’t just muscle but the way he carries himself. "Is it weird to say you have great skin?"

"What?" Cisco looks down at himself, as if his chest can explain it.

"I mean, you're all—" He waves at the golden and tan and pink, darker arms and paler chest, the way it seems to glow where light hits it. "It just, it feels nice? I'm always too oily or too dry or both and you look like you've never had acne a day in your life, never mind bacne."

"Wow." Compliments on his looks aren't something he's used to from anyone that isn't his mother, and skin is a new one. "It doesn't sound like something a serial killer would say coming from you."

Barry groans. "I sounded like Buffalo Bill didn't I?"

"No, no!" Damn it, why did he think he should make Hannibal jokes in bed? "Seriously, it didn't, that's my bad."

At the same moment they both realize they've shifted positions so their dicks are fully visible and after a long, distracted moment their eyes meet.

Cisco snorts and the tension breaks.

"I'm so bad at this," Barry says as he reaches for Cisco.

Cisco sucks at Barry's lower lip before pulling back just far enough to say, "No worse than me." This time their bodies press together, Cisco settling between Barry's open legs, propping himself up just enough so he isn't crushing Barry.

"Oh," Barry exhales as their cocks touch, body suddenly warm all over. The weight, the flat chest, the brush of stubble, it's all new and different and good. His legs wrap around Cisco, his hands pushing into dark hair and mouth greedy for more. Cisco is making that quiet involuntary grunt again, lips brushing over Barry's mouth, chin, jaw. He starts making his way down Barry's body again but he's in too much of a hurry to touch every mole.

They're both breathing heavily by the time Cisco gets to Barry's stomach. When he looks up his hair brushes over Barry's skin and it's hard to suppress how it tickles. "Condom?"

At least he's prepared for this. Barry pulls one from where he'd stashed it under the pillow when he was speed-undressing and hands it to Cisco, since he clearly wants to be the one to put it on.

Cisco looks at the package. "These are lubed. Do you have any that aren't?" Latex tastes terrible enough as it is, adding anything else would make things downright nasty.

Barry's face falls. "Oh. I could go get more?"

"Well, um." Cisco's hands tangle over themselves in nervous gestures, brushing Barry's hips as they do. "I know you're good, Caitlin checked basically everything when you first came in and I needed to see your chart to establish a baseline for all the monitoring software and uh—anyway. We're both good. If you want to, y'know, skip them." Cisco likes the taste of skin and everything else but that's way too embarrassing to admit out loud.

Barry's hands join in making useless aborted gesticulations. "Well, if it's safe," His face is getting redder and redder because the more he thinks about it the more he likes it, and Cisco is right there. "I mean, you're the one most affected, so whatever you want works for me."

Cisco laughs. "Ok then." He shifts down so he's lying on his stomach between Barry's legs. He leans down to kiss a mole right on a pale hip bone.

Barry shivers, his body literally vibrating with excitement and Cisco decides they really need to explore the possibilities once Barry has more control. (If they're still having sex by then, the asshole part of his brain adds. Cisco does his best to ignore it.)

He loops his arms around Barry's thighs, letting his hands rest on the love handles. He can smell arousal and sweat; it's embarrassing how his mouth starts to water.

Barry's gripping the headboard in an attempt to distract himself. God, Cisco's taking forever to do anything and it's got him on edge already. He's nosing around beside Barry's dick, finding more moles to drag his lips over. Sometimes he flickers his tongue over them, but it's all brief teases. "Cisco," he groans. He can feel the laugh against his skin.

Cisco looks up and their eyes meet as he finally, finally puts his mouth on Barry's dick.

"Oh," Barry says in a higher pitch than he intended.

Cisco runs his tongue over the head, then sucks it in. At first he barely gives it any pressure, more noise than sensation. He increases the suction, cheeks hollowing as he takes in more of Barry's shaft.

Barry is sure he'll never be able to watch Cisco eat a lollipop again.

Cisco isn't a fan of bitter but something about the salt of sweat and the bitterness of precome is appealing. Barry is shaking his head and groaning, legs trembling from trying to stay still and Cisco's not even using his hands. He pushes the flat of his tongue against the underside of Barry's dick and takes in more, as far as he can get before gagging. Maybe one day he'll conquer his gag reflex and really go to town. His jaw is starting to ache and he's drooling a little but the way Barry looks right now is worth it.

"Cisco, oh god, Cisco," Barry moans, head lolling to the side.

Cisco arches his hips into the sheets to take the edge off his own arousal. He pulls off for a quick breather, flexing his jaw and running hands up the back of Barry's thighs. He lets his lips drag over the wet skin, licking haphazard stripes up Barry's cock. He mouths the head, all contact with no suction.

"Cisco!" Barry shouts, and he finds himself shoved to the side before he knows what's going on.

Then he sees the liquid dripping from Barry's hand where he caught the mess instead of letting it hit Cisco in the face.

"That would've sucked," Cisco says with a grimace at the idea of superspeed spunk in his eye. "Thanks."

"You were right about the fast thing." Barry gives a half-hearted laugh, his breath slowing down. He looks at his hand in disgust, grabbing a corner of sheet to wipe it off. He'll have to make sure to do his own laundry.

"Wait." Cisco is flushed deep red as he stops Barry from using the sheet, eying the mess. "I want you to—"

Barry connects the dots, feeling his own face grow hot. "Oh."

"Yeah," Cisco doesn't meet his eyes. "If you're not grossed out by it."

"How do you want to—" Barry cuts himself off as all talking seems to do is make Cisco more uncomfortable. With his clean hand he urges Cisco forward. Cisco lets himself be arranged between Barry's legs, his back to Barry's stomach so the angle won't be that different from what Barry's used to jerking off.

"You don't have to," Cisco says with false lightness. "I can take care of myself, it's cool."

"I want to," Barry insists as he wraps his messy hand over Cisco's dick. It was a little too sticky to work so he added some of the lube he'd stashed beside the condoms.

Cisco lets out a noise partway between a yelp and a moan, his whole body shuddering. "You, Barry, I—"

"People like what they like," Barry says as he squeezes a little tighter, moves a little faster. Cisco's heels dig into the mattress as his hips move into each stroke.

"Oh man," Cisco breathes. "Oh man oh man oh man."

It's so much easier since Barry knows what to do with a guy. He kisses Cisco's shoulder, the slick sound getting drowned out by Cisco's noises. Cisco's hands reach out and grab Barry's knees, nails digging in as Cisco's hips jerk upward. He makes a startlingly loud noise that's definitely a yelp this time.

Barry uses his hand again to contain the mess as Cisco comes, continuing to pump him through it with gentler and gentler strokes.

"That was a lot louder than I thought it'd be."

"Hey, it's nice to be appreciated. And since I'm the only one who heard it, I say it's nice."

Cisco turns to look at Barry, smiling.

Barry tucks Cisco's hair behind his ear and lets his hand linger. "Thanks."

He shoves at Barry's shoulder. "What are you thanking me for, the orgasm? Really I should be thanking you, that was sweet."

"Right back at you," Barry says as he wipes the mess off onto the sheet. Definitely need to do his own laundry. "But what I meant was thanks for being willing to try with a guy like me, terrible at love and everything else."

"Dude, I'm the one who got the better end of the deal. I mean, look at you!" No need to mention how Cisco can't compare.

"But that isn't why you're here. I mean, I'm sure you like how I look and my powers, but you like me. I don't have to hide anything from you." Barry's never thought of himself as a guy with secrets but his life has been increasingly full of them. It feels so good to have somebody who already knows everything without explanations or apologies. "Most of the time I'm so nervous about sex I don't know what to do with myself, but this felt easy."

Now that he's said it, Cisco realizes it's the same way for him. The other times he's been naked with people it felt like a big deal. This is something simpler, like they skipped to the naked-cuddling-while-watching-movies stage. "I think I know what you mean."

He lays back and Cisco follows, staying in his arms. It's comfortable. The post-coital lassitude starts to seep in. "You want to sleep here?"

Cisco yawns. "I'm very ok with cuddling and not in the mood for moving."

They settle in, Barry on his back and Cisco tucked against his side. Luckily it's warm enough they don't need the sheet. They're asleep in minutes.


Cisco wakes up to erratic breezes on his skin. "Barry?"

Barry is dashing around the room getting dressed. "Sorry, I am so sorry but I'm late and I'll make it up to you later, I promise." He pauses in front of Cisco for a goodbye kiss and leaves only wind in his wake.

The horrible morning breath of not brushing his teeth the night before hits him. Ugh, and he needs a shower. So much for a lazy morning in bed.

But the kiss was nice, a let's-do-this-again kind of nice. He can live with that. He roots around the room for his clothing, makes himself slightly more presentable in the bathroom, and heads downstairs.

Cisco freezes on the steps at the sight of Joe, Joe who must've got home at some point last night Joe who might've heard something Joe who's really laid back and awesome and Barry's second dad and oh god oh god oh god. The words crawl out of Cisco's throat, barely recognizable. "H-Hi, Joe."

"Morning, Cisco," Joe says without looking up from his coffee or newspaper. His tone is flat, too flat, I-know-what-you-did flat, you're-corrupting-my-son flat.

"Oh god."

Joe looks up. The corners of his eyes crinkle after a long moment. "Sorry, had to do that."

Cisco's breath explodes out of him in relief.

Joe's deep chuckle comes out, smile warm and welcoming. "To paraphrase a very smart friend of mine: 'I will not judge you.'"

Cisco fills with affection to bursting, rushing down the rest of the stairs to give Joe a hug.

"Unh-uh, lack of judging doesn't mean ok with hugging. Not in that state," Joe raises his eyebrows at Cisco's disheveled appearance.

Face burning because he almost touched Joe with post-coital clothes Cisco gurgles, "Right."

"Cisco," Joe says in that serious voice that must see a lot of use between being a dad and a cop. "I don't pretend to understand what goes on in Barry's head about his love life, but," he meets Cisco's eyes. "You're ok?"

"I know he's got options and I know I might not be the person he's going to stay with. Maybe Iris will work out and they'll have cute speedster children, may be they won't." Cisco shrugs. "As it is, it's pretty great.

"So I heard," Joe says, dry as dust.

"Aaaaaand I really need to get going. Bye!" Cisco flees, face burning. Joe's laughter follows him out.