A different, more Cisco/Caitlin, ending to "Cause and XS". Caitlin is about to head home for the night when Cisco returns from his date with Kamilla, and it went fine, but he's decided he wants more than "fine" from his life.
Or rather, he's decided he won't be able to live with himself if he doesn't at least try.
Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33010216
Caitlin is just packing up for the night when Cisco comes slumping into the Cortex.
“Hey.” She says, a little confused, as she wasn’t expecting to see him back here tonight. “How’d the date go?”
He glances at her from the side of his eyes, but he doesn’t answer her right away. Instead he takes his time, makes his way around the main computer desk and snags a chair to wheel behind him on his way. She watches him curiously the whole time, while he brings the chair around and sinks down into it. Is he messing with her? Acting like the date went horribly when in actuality it went great?
He sighs, his elbows resting on his knees and his hands folded in front of his mouth.
“The date went fine.” He says, but he doesn’t sound all that happy about it. “I was myself, and she was understanding about the fact that I was late. And we talked and she’s really, really cool.”
He nods along with his own words, his face still grave and he almost looks like he might cry. Truly, Caitlin isn’t sure where this is going.
“Ok…” She drawls, “Is that a good thing?”
He sighs, scrubs a hand over his face, and in this whole time he still hasn’t looked at her properly.
“I like her.” He mutters like he’s confessing a sin, and then he shakes himself. “Doesn’t matter anyway, I screwed it up.”
“What happened?” She asks, leaning her back against the desk and folding her arms.
He sighs, and finally looks her in the eye.
“I told her I wasn’t ready.” He says, “That I thought I was, but I need more time to move on from my last relationship.”
Caitlin nods, understanding, and she’s trying to decide what the best approach to this might be-
“What do you mean you lied?” She asks, brow furrowed.
He doesn’t answer her right away. He holds her gaze, and he very much looks like he wants to cry now. He looks pale, and his folded hands have dropped into the space between his legs where his fingers are dancing around one another, like he can’t find the right way to slot them together.
“I…” He has to clear his throat, and Caitlin can’t help how her whole body seems to stiffen, her heart stopping in her chest. He’s starting to scare her.
“I’m ready to settle down.” He says, “Not tomorrow, obviously, but I’m done with dates that don’t go anywhere. I’m ready for the next girl I go out with to be the one I spend my life with. And when I was on that date tonight I think I could’ve found that! I can see it, without vibing. I could go on and live a perfectly contented life with Kamilla.”
Again, he doesn’t answer her right away. He just looks at her through those eyes that are now brimming with tears.
“The problem is I don’t want to live a perfectly contented life.” He says, and then he finally stands up, like he’s forcing himself to make a decision. “I want to be happy, or at the very least I want to be content knowing I tried to be happy and it didn’t work out.”
A tear slips out of his eyes this time, and Caitlin wants nothing more than to hug him. She wants to know what he’s talking about, why he is evidently so unhappy. The few seconds it takes for him to shudder and open his mouth again feel like an eternity.
Her brain feels like it’s buffering. This isn’t happening. He can’t… Is he really saying this? He’s looking at her, wiping his eyes, like this is killing him to do and that is the only thing keeping her from truly believing this is a dream or some other sort of illusion.
“I have been in love with you for a long time, and I know… I know you don’t feel that way about me. But I just had to say it. I had to tell you, before I go and resign myself to being just content for the rest of my life.”
She’s still processing. She’s trying to think of what she can say to that, when he smiles despite himself.
“Well, heh, glad I got that off my chest.” He takes a step back, “Um… You can just ignore that, I’m good being friends, really. Um… night.”
He turns then, starts to leave, and finally she finds her voice.
He stops, and turns around, the smile wiped from his face; like he’s afraid he hasn’t heard her right.
She feels like she’s gaping. She’s trying to find the words, any words. It shouldn’t be this hard. She’s already taken the leap, and it’s Cisco, and he’s already told her he feels the same way. She has very little to lose here.
Actually, that isn’t true. She has everything to lose if she doesn’t get this right.
“I’m not good with just being friends.” She finally manages, taking a step closer to him. “I… I don’t know when it happened exactly, but after you and Gypsy broke up I really, really wanted to say something. But I didn’t think… it didn’t seem like a good time.”
It never seemed like a good time. Ever. Every time she thinks about telling him she ends up telling herself how wrong it could go. If he didn’t feel the same way she could never handle the fallout. Losing him as her friend.
The urge to cry gets worse just thinking about it.
He takes a step closer to her, very cautiously, like he’s afraid this moment might end or she might backpedal on what she’s saying. She won’t, she wouldn’t even if she could find more words to say. She’s holding her breath now, watching him watch her.
“You’re sure?” He asks, with another step closer and she nods. “Really?” He asks, and this time she finds it in her to step closer.
They’re barely an inch apart now, and his fingers ghost so lightly over her hips it’s only by the charge of static that she feels them. She brings her hands up on impulse, resting on his shoulders, and she wonders if her eyes are as glassy as his.
“You’re sure?” He asks yet again, now starting to smile again. “Because if you’re not, what I am about to do is going to be very, very stupid.”
She laughs, and brings one hand up to cradle his cheek.
She meant what she said; she isn’t sure when exactly she fell for him. She came to her senses about it last year and the realization had been like being hit over the head with a science textbook; abrupt and very apparent. She wonders how on Earth it took her so long.
“I’m sure.” She promises him, and then she’s up on her toes, her lips aiming for his cheek, because she’s fairly certain this stupid thing he is about to do is kiss her, but he might need more than verbal confirmation that she wants it.
He tilts his head, captures her lips in their path, and this is undeniably the best kiss she’s had in a long time.
She had been afraid kissing him – if she ever mustered up the courage – would feel wrong. It would feel like she was overstepping, like she was ruining something. Instead it feels all kinds of right. His lips feel soft, and warm, just like his body when he holds her. It feels like they were made for each other, like they should have been doing this all along.
