The Reverse-Flash closes his eyes as the unnatural lightning breeze whips his hair and stings his face. He takes a moment, slowly breathing in the opposing force's lightning. Time slows to a crawl as he savors the already fading taste of the crackling Speedforce. He opens his eyes, letting the outside world slow to a near standstill. Yellow sparks still barely sparkling diamonds in the frozen world.
Even long before powers and discoveries, the Flash had always been his obsession. Once it was as a hero, then it was as an ideal, before twisting into that one small taste of what he could never have. There has never been room for anyone or anything else in his life, save the Flash. Years ago now, when he had been young and foolish, he had tried to date, but each and every one of his partners had left him, feeling neglected and overshadowed by a man that Eobard had never even met.
The last spark of lightning springs out and strikes his face, its sting fading as quickly as it had come, shocking him back into the speed of the slow world. Couples mill about on the city streets, families, friends, not one had noticed the streak of lightning in their midst. It was there and gone in the same instant. Eobard's heart pounds softly, slowing out of the familiar tune. Nothing had ever compared to the rush when he first experienced the lightning of the Speedforce, but even now the Flash's lightning leaves an odd, yet pleasurable taste in his mouth. It is one he can't describe, but if asked, he would say it was the taste of a summer day, mixed with the flavor of promises and honor, wrapped in the burning taste of power. He wants more. It wasn't enough. It's never enough. He runs home, before a non-existent tear can slip down his face.
Eobard falls into his bed, buries his face in his pillow and falls into a fitful sleep. His bedroom looks like a teenage fanboy's room might. Flash decorations adorn each inch, some in worse shape than others, having been collected over the years since he had been nineteen and seen the Flash for the first time. His walls are scarlet, his floors wood and his ceiling yellow. The walls and floors are painted with lightning bolts of the respective opposing colors.
Eobard hates running before falling asleep. The Speedforce would still be surrounding him and the Flash would invade his dreams in the worst ways possible. ~_~_~_~~_~_~_~~_~_~_~~_~_~_~~_~_~_~~_~_
"Morning, 'bard!" A strangely cheery voice loudly calls out morning greetings. Eobard rolls over and groans. No one should be that happy this early in the morning. He opens his eyes slowly to see the most beautiful man he has ever seen laying next to him, smiling brightly and gazing at Eobard as if Eobard had hung the moon, sun and stars, all for him.
"Morning, Barry." Eobard's voice is rough from sleep and his mouth tastes foul. He can't remember if he'd brushed his teeth the night before. Barry leans over to meet Eobard's mouth with his own. Eobard pulls away, laughing.
"Not until we brush our teeth! I'm not getting your morning breath along with mine." Barry leaps out of bed and flashes to the bathroom. There is the sound of running water and sloshing toothpaste for about a second before Barry is again lying next to Eobard.
He smiles, "Now we can say good morning properly." He leans in again and once more, Eobard pulls away. He points first at his own mouth and then at the bathroom. Barry leans so close, Eobard can feel Barry's breath mixing with his own, "I like the taste of you." Eobard sighs fondly and pulls the other man to him. Their lips meet, hands moving with unnatural speed through hair, exploring bodies, mapping territory. Eobard lets time slow to a crawl, but Barry is a speedster too and the kiss is over too fast.
"Kiss me again." Eobard grips Barry longingly, "Kiss me again."
Barry's brow furrows. "Are you okay? You seem off this morning."
Eobard freezes, pieces of a puzzle he doesn't want to solve falling into place. "What do you mean? How are you here? This isn't right."
Eobard makes to get out of the bed, but Barry pulls him back down, "No. Not today, please. I know you get like this sometimes, and you can't remember, but please. Not today. Not on our anniversary."
Eobard stiffens, "Anniversary?" Barry nods, slowly. He lifts his right hand. A gold band that shines a familiar yellow, is on his finger. Eobard glances at his own right hand and sees a similar gold band, but his is tinted almost red, scarlet, rather than yellow.
"I've been your husband for three years now." Eobard stares. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he registers that he's dreaming, but he doesn't care. Barry, his Barry is in front of him. He grabs him and pulls him to his feet. The two stand together, before Eobard pulls Barry close to his chest. Their lips meet- -and Eobard wakes up, the only taste on his lips that of his own tears. He can still feel Barry's warmth on his chest and lets the tears fall.