causational | psl; after the kiss

The scratchy sound to his voice, the pauses and hesitations--it's all more than enough to tell Cisco that by Eddie's side is exactly where he needs to be.

"Of course," he says softly, bringing their joined hands up to press a gentle kiss across Eddie's fingers. "I'll be right there, the whole time."

That quiet promise is the last thing that's said before Cisco helps his boyfriend off the exam table and takes him home. He stops at his own apartment long enough to grab a few things--he's not planning on leaving Eddie's side for a few days, at least--and finishes the rest of the drive to Eddie's place.

"Do you want a shower or rest first?" he asks softly as they get inside.

Eddie is quiet all the way home, subdued, the moment he's out of sight of Caitlin and Iris and Joe and the others, he stops faking the smiles, the easygoing relaxed attempts at looking okay. But he doesn't crumple. Not even when he gets home, with Cisco beside him, he doesn't crumple.

He keeps it together, as Cisco gets them shut into the apartment, and he drops his arms, stares blankly into space for a few moments before lifting his hands and scrubbing them over his face.

"I'm so hungry." he mumbles, his voice soft, "I'm so hungry but...I should shower. Yeah. I should definitely shower first, I'm disgusting."

Even though he hates to see Eddie in a place like this, Cisco's glad he's let go of the facade. For starters, it's better for him to let the real emotion and weight of things pour through than trying to bottle them and play like it's fine. And...it's a show of trust in its own way, that he doesn't feel the need to upkeep that kind of mask around Cisco.

He's still at Eddie's side, a hand resting gently at the small of his back as he considers the options and says how hungry he is. "Okay," Cisco's own voice is soft, "you can take a shower and I'll have something ready when you get out." There's a slight hesitation before he adds, "Un-unless you need...anything." He'd stay with Eddie for every possible second if he had to, but he doesn't want to step over any lines and make him feel like he's babying him or something, either. Eddie may need all the mother-henning in the world right now in Cisco's eyes, but it doesn't mean it's necessarily what he wants.

Edited 2017-03-19 21:48 (UTC)

It's hard, to let go in front of Cisco, and part of him is afraid it'll be a turn-off, that Cisco will think he's weak and unmasculine for not being okay. For not shrugging it of like it's nothing. As much as he trusts Cisco and his feelings, it's hard to believe that it won't make him less in Cisco's eyes for feeling the way he does.

But in the end, the trust is enough that, when Cisco asks if he wants him to make something to eat for when he gets out, or if there's anything else he needs, Eddie turns to look at him. Meeting his eyes, he swallows hard and licks his lips.

"Come in the shower with me? I don't want to be alone right now..."

His voice is soft, a little hitched, and the shame is obvious in the undertone of how he says it.

That touch of shame in Eddie's voice hurts to hear. Cisco doesn't ever want him to feel ashamed for feeling. He's the last person to judge anything like that, his own emotions often far too raw and open.

So when he says, "Of course, babe." he says it like it's the obvious next step and he slides his arm around Eddie's waist gently, guiding him through the apartment. He disappears for a short moment, only long enough to grab Eddie a fresh set of clothes.

There's a thickness to the air that's hard to ignore. Part general tension because of what happened left Cisco unsure of what to say, part guilt he felt at how long it took them to find him. He was right under their noses the entire time...He'd never really be okay with that, so he was going to focus on making Eddie feel okay again.

It's an unfortunate truth that Eddie often judges himself harshly for things that he gives other people free passes for. When Cisco's emotions are raw and open, it's endearing vulnerability, inspires empathy and protective instinct. When Eddie's emotions are raw and open, he's weak and pathetic, he thinks he inspires disgust and disappointment. After all, he's quite convinced he's the one who should be protecting Cisco, caring for him, he should be the one who never needs help with his problems, available only to help with other peoples' problems. After all, that had always seemed to be what Iris expected, what Barry and Joe had expected.

But Cisco responds to him so openly, so genuinely like it's only natural that he helps Eddie out with this, wraps his arm around Eddie's waist and guides him into the bathroom, brings him fresh clothes. While Cisco does that, Eddie strips, utilitarian and without any kind of sexual tension. Stepping into the shower, he adjusts the temperature of the water and tilts his head back, curtain half-open, letting the water spray over his face, eyes closed. He can hear Cisco in the bathroom, and the hot water feels good against his skin, he feels grimy and wrong and nasty and it's good to imagine it washing away.

"I'm sorry."

It's for Cisco, spoken quietly enough that it's barely audible over the sound of the water.

Cisco knows exactly how hard Eddie is on himself, and as much as he has tried to help build Cisco up and help him see himself in a different light, to see himself the way Eddie sees him, Cisco has tried to help Eddie feel safe at opening up to him. Especially emotionally, because he has such a tendency to try and bury everything negative. He wants to be to Eddie what Eddie is to him, a safe space, where he doesn't have to worry about being judged or feel like he needs to wear a mask or put on a front. And this might be just a time to cultivate some of that a little more, even if Cisco hates that this situation has presented itself at all.

A frown creases across his forehead at the apology and once he's slipped out of his own clothes, he steps into the shower behind his boyfriend, arms circling gently around his waist. He doesn't care that Eddie's dirty and grimy, the comfort is more important than the rest. Dirt washes off, the rest...well...

"What for?" he asks softly, resting his cheek gently against Eddie's shoulder. "There's nothing for you to be sorry for."

It isn't really a matter of feeling safe or judged, he doesn't actually think bad things of Cisco, even when he worries about opening up. It isn't so much a fear of Cisco thinking poorly of him as it is feeling poorly about himself. Like he's not living up to his own expectations. Of course Cisco doesn't expect anything special from him, Cisco doesn't think he deserves nearly as much as Eddie thinks he does, and that's the crux of the problem. Cisco deserves someone who can hold himself up and hold Cisco up too.

When Cisco presses against his back, his arms snaking around his waist, Eddie tenses just slightly, then relaxes, swallowing hard as he lets the water run down his chest and face.

"For being weak, I guess. You deserve better."

It's quiet, but he says it. He manages to say it. It's something, he thinks, that Cisco deserves to hear.

Those words actually hurt to hear. His eyes squeeze shut at those words and he shakes his head a little. "No, babe...you're not." He pulls back a little and tugs gently on his arm in hopes he'll turn and look at him.

If he complies, Cisco will reach up to frame Eddie's face with his hands, focus his attention on him; if not, he'll just stay close. "You are the furthest thing from weak. You're allowed to feel things, Eddie...you're allowed to not be okay."

Licking his lips, Eddie keeps his head down, his eyes closed, lets the water run from his hair down over his face and drip off his chin onto his chest. It feels good, cleansing, like he's washing off some of the things Eobard said, even if the stain of them will never really go away.

When Cisco tugs at him, gentle and careful, he turns obediently, almost on auto-pilot, and lifts his chin a little, droplets of water stuck on his lashes, his lips slightly pursed. Cisco's hands are warm and gentle framing his face, and he swallows hard, his gaze dropping the moment Cisco says he's not weak, that he's allowed to feel things and not be okay. The lump in his throat makes it hard to speak, hard to even breathe properly.

"You just deserve...you deserve someone who can be strong. I'm not strong right now."

"Baby, you are," he insists softly, his thumbs brushing gently across Eddie's cheeks. "You're one of the strongest people I know." And he doesn't just say that for the sake of it, he genuinely believes that. Eddie has been through so much, and here he is, worried that he's not being strong for him right now?

Sometimes, with the way things balance, it's easy to forget that Eddie doesn't always have the highest opinion of himself. Or more to the point, that he holds himself to too-high standards, far above the expectations he'd have for other people. But it's moments like this that make that painfully obvious and Cisco feels a little out of his depth being on this end of this equation. But he wants to help Eddie, to assure him that this is okay. That he can be upset and hurt by everything that happened without being weak. Because he isn't. God, he isn't weak at all, and Cisco just wants to find a way to make him see that.

He slides his hands to rest on Eddie's shoulders before sliding down his arms so he can take his hands in his own. "Listen, this... this thing that feels like weakness to you right now? It's just part of being human. It- it's normal. Nobody can be okay all the time, and that's okay, you know? Because...that's what you have me for." He manages a small smile with those words.

"I'm here...just like you're always here for me when I'm mad or upset, you-- you just listen and you let me feel whatever I feel and you help me through it, you know? And I wanna do that for you, too." He reaches up and cups one hand around his cheek. "Let me be your safe space, Eddie." It's a gentle request, and an echo of something he'd told Eddie once, about how he felt when he was with him. He gently tugs him close and wraps his arms around him in a warm hug.

There are moments that Eddie knows in an instinctive way are going to stick in his mind forever, matter to him forever, moments that are turning points in his life. This, he thinks, is one of them, this moment where he insists that he isn't good enough for Cisco, that he can't be strong the way Cisco needs him to be, that he's weak for being hurt like this over what happened, for being afraid, and instead of agreeing with him, Cisco cups his face, so so gently, and strokes his cheeks and says he's strong.

For a moment, Eddie stares at him, his blue eyes a little round, while Cisco keeps going, touches his face in that gentle intimate way, slides his hands down his shoulders, warm gentle fingers skimming down his arms until Cisco is taking his hands in his. When Cisco looks at him and speaks in a voice that is so firm and so earnest and so incredibly gentle, promises to be there for him like he's there for Cisco, hugs him and says he wants to be his safe space, the dam inside Eddie breaks.

It takes a few seconds for the emotions to spill over it, but when they do, he's wrapping his arms around Cisco, tilting his head down to bury his face in Cisco's neck, eyes closed, his chest heaving with a heavy breath, and he's crying, quiet and intense, against Cisco's neck. Crying because he was afraid and hungry and lonely and because he missed this, missed being able to sink into the comforting warmth that is Cisco Ramon, because he was afraid he'd die and never see him again, never see his mom or dad again either, but mostly Cisco.

It seems to go on forever, but in reality, it's only a minute or two before the little sobs trail off and Eddie's breathing hard, his mouth pressed against Cisco's bare shoulder.

"You are." he says, finally, his voice a little rough with tears.

As Eddie releases all the pent of emotions he'd refused to really allow himself to feel, Cisco just holds him, cradling him close as he can, hands moving in comforting circles against his back or threading gently through his hair, or muttering quiet, soothing things to help keep him calm. Anything, anything at all that would just silently let him know he's here, he isn't alone in this and he has someone to cling to and be the life raft he needs right now.

The moment isn't as long as Cisco would have expected, but he knows Eddie is far from out of the woods on this. But it's good. It's good that he's making it through the first of this. He can't help smiling weakly at those two simple words. He kisses Eddie's forehead and mumbles a soft, "Good."

With that, he gently moves Eddie further under the water in the shower and helps him wash away whatever grime remains. And eventually, they slip out of the shower and into fresh clothes, which he can only imagine feel a thousand times better to Eddie than they possibly could to Cisco himself.

Once they're dressed, he threads his fingers through Eddie's own and guides him easily into the bedroom, where he sits on the bed with him, thumb moving in gentle circles against the edge of Eddie's hand in what he hopes is a comforting way. "You hungry?" He asks softly, looking up at him, eyes searching his boyfriend's face for any indication of what he might need just now. He wants nothing more in this moment than to do any-and-everything that will help Eddie feel more comfortable in his own skin.

Everything is perfect about how Cisco handles Eddie's grief - he doesn't draw attention to it, doesn't coddle, doesn't make Eddie feel weak. He just stands still and offers support, he holds him gently and makes soft murmuring wordless noises, he touches his hair and rubs his back and is simply present, allows Eddie to excise all of the ugly things going on inside himself, lets him cry it out. And when Eddie's gotten it out and feels alright again, not perfect, not okay, but capable of continuing on without falling apart, he lifts his head and looks at Cisco like he's his everything.

In that moment, he absolutely is.

So he lets Cisco help him wash off and gets into clean clothes, robotic but with Cisco's gentle help, and when Cisco leads him into the bedroom, he sits heavily on the bed. At that question of whether he's hungry, Eddie manages a tiny, wry smile.

"I'm...really hungry, actually. Feeding me wasn't..."

For a moment, his voice chokes off, and then he speaks again, quietly and a little hoarse.

"Feeding me wasn't exactly his top priority."

Cisco notices the way Eddie is really just going through the motions, more robotic in his movements than present for it. But he won't push about that right now because he doesn't have to ask why he's so detached from the moment. It's understandable in ways Cisco wished he didn't know.

He doesn't push Eddie when his voice gives out midway through what he was saying. His hand finds a spot on Eddie's back to rub gentle circles against while he recovers and finishes the thought. It's a painful thing, but not very surprising, considering the source. "Maybe something light, like soup or something?" he suggests. He definitely wouldn't want to give him something that would turn his stomach.

psl; after the kiss

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