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Hush, Don't Say a Word

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Harry plucks the glass from Cisco’s hand. “Ok, you’ve had enough, buttercup. Any more and I’ll be scraping you off the floor.”

Cisco pouts and make grabby hands for his drink, but Harry takes advantage of his height and holds it above his head. He reaches, but Harry is too damned tall, like a tall… person. Cisco’s thought are wine-slow and syrupy. He rolls his eyes. “Ugh, fine, Daddy. I’ll be a good boy.”

Harry’s face does… a Thing. It actually looks a little painful. But the tips of his ears are red and it spreads down to his cheeks as Cisco watches. Cisco clings to him and leans into his solid warmth. “What’s the matter, Daddy?”

Harry’s eyes close. “Please, don’t. That’s not appropriate.”

“Says who?”

“Says the man who actually is a father. It’s.. It’s weird.”

“We’re from two different universes. We’re already weird.” Harry refuses to look at him, so Cisco plants a kiss along his jaw, the only part of Harry’s face he can reach. “You call me Buttercup, even though I’m not a princess.” Kiss. “You call me baby, even though I’m not an infant.” Kiss. “It’s all.” Kiss. “About.” Kiss. “Context.” Kiss. “Daddy.”

Harry sets down the drink he’s still holding and grips Cisco’s arms by the wrists, lowering them from where they hang around his neck. “Okay, stop that. It doesn’t matter, because as drunk as you are, you’ll be lucky to get a kiss on the cheek before bed.”

Cisco butts his head against Harry’s shoulder. “But I want.”

“No, Ramon.”

There’s a warning in his tone, the sharpness of a sheathed knife. Cisco shivers and tangles his fingers into Harry's sweater, pulling him close. That tone is all that stops him from grinding his half-hard dick into Harry's thigh. He let Harry take his weight and steady him against the gentle sway of the floor. “You're the best daddy.”


In the morning, Cisco wakes up hating himself, the universe and alcohol, roughly in that order. Harry presses two advil into his hand and holds the glass of water to his lips, before leaving Cisco to retreat into a nest of blankets and misery. He wakes for the second time a few hours later, feeling closer to human and desperately needing to pee. Once that’s taken care of, he stumbles into the kitchen to find Harry sitting at the table, reading the paper, a plate of toast and scrambled eggs sitting in front of him.

Harry pushes the plate towards Cisco. “Good timing. It’s still warm. Feeling better?”

“Well, I no longer want to breach my head to another dimension.” He gives Harry the most sarcastic jazz hands he can in his post-inebriated state. Then he pours hot sauce over his eggs. “Also, please tell me you’re not trying to do the crossword puzzle again. You always start yelling at the pop culture and historical clues, and if you start yelling right now, I will breach you to Earth 47, and I won’t care if the lizard people eat you.”

“You'd cry if I got eaten. And I am more than capable of doing the crossword without yelling.”

“If you say so.” Cisco glances at Harry out of the corner of his eye, before adding, “Daddy.”

The pen Harry had just picked up clatters from his fingers, not that Cisco would purposely time it in such a way. Heated pink creeps up from under his shirt and down from the tips of his ears to meet in a splash of color across his cheeks. “I thought maybe you were too drunk to remember that.”

“Not even close.” Cisco watches Harry try to hide behind his newspaper. “I don’t see what the big deal is.”

“The big… It’s humiliating.”

“Humiliation does it for some people. Not saying it does for you, just saying everyone’s got their thing” Cisco rests his chin in one hand. “But if you’re interested, I’m all for it.”

Harry snorts, an explosion of sound and air. “So this is your thing now? Because I feel like if it was, I would have heard about it the third time we had sex. Somewhere in the long litany of all the things you wanted me to do to your ass.”

“And you did a great job of giving me what I wanted.” Cisco stands and makes his way around the table. Harry scooches back at his approach, looking alarmed, but that leaves the perfect amount of room for Cisco to straddle his lap. He grips the back of the chair, bracketing Harry with his arms. “Now it’s my turn to give you what you want. Because my thing is whatever gets you going. Daddy.”