#harry can't brain when cisco shows skin

[stars-are-just-ghosts]

4 + 15 for harrisco if you're still taking prompts?

(Absolutely! Sorry for the delay! I hope you enjoy it!)

Cisco was scrubbing roughly at the wide, red streak on his 'Will Work For Coffee' t-shirt, grumbling as his attempts to clean the mess his meatball sub had made only managed to make the stain spread. He and Harry ate lunch together and played card games in Harry's room on Sundays. It had become sort of a ritual after Cisco had just shown up with burritos one rainy Sunday afternoon. Since then, the shorter man had taken it upon himself to track Harry down and feed him against his will. Not that Harry was entirely complaining about that.

The truth was, he enjoyed getting to be alone with Cisco Ramon. He had for quite a while now. The man was increasingly becoming the epicenter of Harry's happiness. It wasn't anything he would admit. After all, he was intensely aware that not only was Cisco an incredibly intelligent, soft-hearted, humorous, damn beautiful man, but Harry was so far out of his league that they weren't even in the same sport. He would never say that to Cisco, though. He didn't need to inflate the shorter man's ego.

He sat back in his chair, setting his napkin down after wiping his hands and then folding his arms as he continued to patiently watch Cisco struggle. Eventually, Ramon tossed the washcloth Harry had given him down on the small two-seater table and huffed a frustrated breath. "Harry, come on, this is my favorite shirt! Don't just sit there." He whined. Harry raised a brow, meeting Cisco's annoyed gaze.

"I'm dying to know how you think I can help in this situation." He stated flatly. Cisco clenched his jaw and stood up, pointing at him.

"You're the one who wanted meatballs subs!" Cisco proclaimed, face a little red.

"And you're the one who eats like a toddler." Harry countered easily. Cisco made a strangling motion in his direction before dropping his hands and looking down at his shirt with a final defeated sigh. It made Harry chuckle, and he shook his head, standing and moving to the other side of the room. He rifled through one of his dresser drawers and pulled out a sweater. Most of his shirts would probably be too long for Cisco. But it would give him something to wear that didn't look like Ramon had lost a food fight with a gorilla. "Here." Harry said, holding it out to him. For a moment, Ramon looked dubious, squinting slightly. "It's not going to explode if you take it, Ramon." Harry urged, motioning the shirt at him.

"Ya never know with you." Cisco said, snagging the shirt and ignoring Harry's eyeroll entirely. "Are you gonna want this back or can I keep it?" Then he just grabbed the edges of his t-shirt and pulled it up. Before Harry could answer the question, or think to turn away, or give Cisco some semblance of privacy, the long-haired man was nude from the waist up. And Harry's mind was instantly malfunctioning.

Because Harry had always been incredibly attracted to Cisco Ramon. Standing this close, with the smell of Ramon's aftershave mingling between them, and the look of Cisco's hair sticking out in places after being shuffled by the t-shirt, and the way his rather alluring naturally tanned skin stood out like a beacon in Harry's meager room, Harry had to physically hold himself back from reaching out and touching the lines of the other man's body.

He watched in dry-mouthed silence as Cisco pulled the black sweater over his head and let it fall around his frame, covering the muscles and curves that Harry had already begun to memorize. The sight of Cisco Ramon wearing Harry's shirt had a completely fresh affect on him. Especially when Cisco lifted both hands and dragged them through his wayward curls, then tugged on the long sleeves to make sure his hands didn't disappear. It made Harry's lungs cease working for a moment. Made his heart hammer in his ribcage. And it made Cisco raise a brow at him, confusion crossing his features.

"What?" Cisco asked, crossing his arms. Harry blinked, cleared his throat, demanded that his brain start functioning again.

"You look ridiculous." He forced out. Cisco blinked, then cracked a little smile.

"It's not my fault you're built like a giraffe." Cisco countered, watching Harry with a knowing look that made the taller scientist tear his eyes away. "You didn't answer the question, ya know."

"What question?" Harry asked, slipping his hands into his dark jean pockets to steady himself. Cisco chuckled.

"Can I keep this?" He reiterated, plucking at the shirt material against his own chest and letting it fall before his hands went to his sides, the sleeve material instantly falling down over his hands.

"My shirt?" Harry blinked, looking Cisco over again. "You're swimming in it. Why would you want to keep it?"

"Well," Cisco took a step toward him, and his sparkling eyes suddenly took on a very... challenging quality. "You could always take it back. But I'm not going to make it easy on you." Cisco's eyes began roaming all over Harry's features, stopping at his lips a little longer than necessary before coming back to Harry's eyes. It made Harry forget to breathe. But it also made his brain spark into overdrive.

"Are you flirting with me?" He questioned clearly, pointed confusion on his features. Cisco laughed instantly.

"You tell me, Harry." The shorter man half-whispered. And then, as though there hadn't been space between them at any point in their lives, Cisco was just there. Kissing him.

Braining like a genius was overrated after all, it seemed. Because Harry didn't stop himself. He let that kiss grow, moment to moment, till they'd each memorized the taste and feel of each other's mouths and tongues. It wasn't till they came up for air, hands clinging to each other, Cisco's hair a mess all over again, that Harry finally spoke up.

"I think I will take my shirt back, Ramon. In fact," He began moving backward, pulling Cisco with him as he stepped toward his bed without looking, "I think I'll take all of your clothes." Cisco's eyes were a little wide, pupils blown as he licked his lips and swallowed.

"I really need to make messes more often." He said clearly. And Harry laughed, unable to help it, right before he turned Cisco and laid him down into that bed. It didn't take long for Harry to do exactly what he said he'd do. Though he was a man of intense patience for every moment that followed. And when all was said and done, Cisco made sure to steal Harry's shirt anyway. A thing that utterly confused the rest of the team when they saw Cisco wearing it the next day.

"Shut up. I spilled a meatball on my shirt." Was Cisco's quick and annoyed answer to Barry's pestering. But when Ramon looked at Harry, there was a subtle smile on his delicious lips. After the team had begun to busy itself with the newest problem at hand, Harry stepped up behind Cisco, slipped his hands beneath the shirt, trailed fingers along the skin that he now knew every inch of.

"By the way, Ramon..." he whispered in Cisco's ear, the shorter man letting out a quick breath in response and stilling in Harry's hold, "I'd like to see you in nothing but my shirt later. No mess necessary..." And he slipped away, watching with fair amusement as Cisco tried desperately to keep his face from giving away the fact that he did not, in fact, want to wait that long.

But Harry could wait. Maybe. Or maybe I can't, he thought as he watched Cisco lift the neck of Harry's shirt to his nose and breathe in deeply before smiling like an absolute moron. It made Harry's own smile inch into 'tender' territory.

And the moment they had the chance, Harry grabbed Cisco by that damn shirt and pulled him into the nearest stairwell.

Both Harry and Cisco decided that shirt would always be their favorite from now on...