Chapter 29
Eobard stepped through the automatic doors, serene music washing over his eardrums as he entered the building. His eyes flicked over the sophisticated architecture, the familiar white walls with abstract paintings, the exotic and colorful plants framing the soft entrance carpet. He inhaled perfectly-conditioned air, just the right temperature and humidity, carrying the faint scent of sweet flowers like springtime. He exhaled, relaxed, almost comforted to return here. It'd been too long.
"Are you sure you have the right place?" Barry's voice carried a note of uncertainty. He brushed one of the plants with his fingertips as if he thought he might break it if he weren't careful enough. "Speedsters can't really make much use of alcohol...plus, this looks rather...expensive..."
"I am rich, or did you forget that detail." Eobard chuckled, looking at his confused expression. "Come on, Barry, you'll see soon enough." He gestured and strode further into the establishment.
"Alright."
The two of them made their way through a maze of white tables and booths, some shaded with dividers for privacy. Here and there a few people sat, their gaudy attire marking high-status as they laughed raucously or murmured quietly. A bar was on the far side, the long counter being tended by a single woman in a standard gray, work outfit. A single spot of color lay on her collar, a ruby that was rich orange red. Eobard slipped into a seat, leaning forward and clasping his hands, elbows on the unmarred white surface.
The woman hadn't noticed him yet.
"Terra," he greeted.
She turned from where she was arranging fancy bottles, her eyes locking onto them appraisingly. She narrowed them, an expression of disbelief appearing on her face. "Eobard?" She asked. "Is it... It's really you!" She strolled over. "I can't believe it!"
"Hello to you, too."
"Apologies - hello," she said. Then, her expression turned solemn. "I heard what happened to your parents, Eobard. I'm so sorry. Are you alright?"
"Thank you," he responded. "I'm not quite alright yet...but I will be."
She turned her gaze to Barry. "And who's your cute friend?"
"Barry Allen," he introduced himself, shaking her hand.
"You aren't too busy tonight," Eobard commented.
"Never are on Mondays."
"Good to see you're still working here."
"Where else would I work? This place is perfect for me."
"I'm sorry," Barry interjected, "are you friends with Eobard?"
"Friends?" She laughed. "You have met this guy, right? No, I'd say...hm, acquaintances. He used to come here so much, we just started chatting about whatever. It's been years, though. Where've you been, Eobard?"
"Traveling, running, trying new things" Eobard exhaled. "I don't know, I guess I needed a change."
"Well, the good thing is that you finally came back." She braced herself on her side of the counter, attentive. "So, what can I get you gentlemen? I assume you're here for more than a chat."
"Barry?" Eobard gestured.
"You know, I should probably just-" Barry started.
"Humor me," Eobard cut him off before he could order a club soda. That'd be no good.
"Fine." Barry sighed and his gaze drifted to the menu.
Terra raised an eyebrow.
"He's not much of a drinker," Eobard informed her with a slight shrug.
"Ah."
"Uhh..." Barry blinked. "I guess I'll start...somewhere... How about the...?" his eyes caught something. He gave a small laugh. "What is a Flash? I thought that was a coffee?"
She chuckled. "Barry, I can assure you half the merchandise in Central City has had the red speedster's name slapped on it. Talk about greedy companies trying to make a profit off another man's honest work. The Flash should have had his logo and name copyrighted; he'd be pretty rich right now."
"That must really stroke his ego," Eobard commented, staring right at Barry, "being so popular and all."
"I doubt it," Barry returned. He grinned one of his more wicked and rare grins. "Sock it to me, Terra. I'll take one of those."
"If you don't drink much..." she started.
"I'll be fine," he assured.
"Okay. I'll warn you though - it's said to knock you out in a flash." She winked. "What about you, Eobard? The usual? I actually remember it."
"Yeah. The usual."
"The Wicked Cider. With salt," she checked.
"Yep."
She walked away.
"You are way more egotistical than you'll admit," Reverse murmured so she wouldn't overhear as she mixed. "You saw that name and couldn't resist. I told you - you are narcissistic."
"I wouldn't be so sure," Barry said. "Everything there looks well beyond me. I figured I'd stick to something close to home."
Eobard narrowed his eyes. "Yourself, you mean."
"It's just a drink. Chill out..." The Flash changed the subject, "so how does this work? I'm just supposed to...pretend to pass out after drinking it, or what?"
"This," Eobard replied, pulling two vials out of his pocket and placing them on the countertop, "...is how it works." He let himself grin at the expression that fell over the other man's features.
"What's...that?" he pointed, wary.
"Well this...this is just a wonderful little thing I developed for the hell of it. It wasn't long after I got my powers... Actually, I got the idea from the original you… Funny how my changes to the timeline stopped you from developing it, too. Anyway, it basically lets speedsters get a buzz."
"Really?" Barry replied doubtfully. "How do I know this isn't some subtle form of you drugging me?"
Eobard burst into a genuine laugh. He shook his head. "It may feel like that if you haven't had a buzz in a hundred years. It's on you, Flash. If you don't trust me, you shouldn't have let me choose our date site." He put his chin in his hands and looked at Barry in an almost playful manner. "So, I suppose it really just depends on whether you trust me or not."
"I'm willing to take the risk." Barry grabbed the vial, lifting it up and examining the clear fluid in it. "How does it work, anyway?"
Eobard knew he shouldn't have been surprised by the lack of hesitation, but he still was. "Slows our metabolism down by three hundred percent for about twenty-four hours. While it's active, if you get stabbed, you'll bleed to death. No super-healing. I wouldn't recommend using it a lot, either. And don't tap into the Speed Force with it in your system - unless you do get stabbed. You'll jumpstart your metabolism again and any buzz - or stab wounds - you have will go away."
"Okay," Barry said, nodding with understanding. "No speed tonight. I can manage that."
Eobard sat up and seized his own. "Cheers."
They tapped their vials, popped the caps, and downed them.
After a few moments, Barry said, "that feels...not that different. Maybe...slower."
"Unfortunately, slower metabolism means less energy."
Terra walked over, placing the drinks on the counter. "Here you go."
"Thank you," Eobard said. Barry echoed the sentiment.
"Enjoy," she replied.
They left the counter, moving to an old-fashioned dartboard in a twenty-first century game area that was well out of earshot of any other patrons. "No speed," Eobard reminded.
"Unless there's a crime that I have to stop."
"I don't suppose you could take a night off? It'll be very hard explaining to Terra how you aren't passed out when you order Flash number two. You look like a lightweight."
He rolled his eyes in exasperation. "We'll see." He took a sip, wincing. "Wow. It has been a while." Still, there was a half-smile of amusement on his face.
Eobard chuckled. "Yeah. You were warned, though."
"Alright, Thawne. You're on. I'll kick your ass." He stopped, eyes growing distant. "You want to know something funny? I played darts with an ancestor of yours, once."
"You mean Eddie Thwane, useless Thawne number fifty-seven out of a thousand plus?"
"Hey, it's not nice to speak ill of the dead."
"I thought you already knew - I'm not a nice guy. Besides, he's been dead for almost two centuries now."
"You know, if it weren't for him, you wouldn't even exist right now to complain."
Eobard conceded that point. "True. I guess there was something useful about him, after all."
Barry sighed. "Eddie. All of that feels like a thousand years ago." He picked up a dart. "Well, I didn't come here to be nostalgic. Round one, Professor Thawne." He paused. "Why does Gideon call you professor, anyway?"
Eobard sipped at his own drink, enjoying the tang of salt combined with the thick sweetness of the alcoholic cider. "It has a nice ring to it. And I was a professor of theoretical science at one point. Taught at a university for a few years… Like I said before, I've had a few different jobs, but no career ever suited me, ever amounted to the potential I knew I had. I was never going to make a name for myself as Eobard Thawne."
"So...Reverse Flash was your solution to that?"
"The solution, was to be a superhero, but I already told you how well that went. Reverse Flash was the solution to the superhero failure."
"It's never too late to be what you wanted to be." Barry gave him another smile, but it was a new one - one that made Eobard feel suddenly like he was the only person in the world besides this other man.
He pushed away that notion, because it was pure silliness. "And yet, I find the appeal in heroics to be rather lacking now." Eobard looked down at his fancy glass, staring at the rose pattern engraved in the side. He traced it absently with his thumb.
"But you keep occasionally helping me. It must have some appeal."
"Boredom is a strong motivator, Allen. "
"I don't rob banks or blow up buildings when I'm bored," Barry shot back. "So why should you do good when you are…"
"Do you want me to rob banks and blow buildings up instead?"
Allen let out a short puff of air. "Yeah, okay, fine. Avoid my entire point, why don't you?"
Thawne felt creeping realization tinged with the faintest hint of horror. There was some truth to what Barry was saying. What did it matter, though? It'd all go away one day, sooner or later... "And besides," he heard himself saying, "I made a promise to you that I wouldn't murder anyone else because I'm not interested in being locked up for Time Demon to kill. I kind of figured general villainy went alongside the no-killing thing."
"You were helping before I made you promise that."
True.
Eobard Thawne ran out of excuses for helping the Hero of Central City. He took a drink instead of saying anything.
From his peripheral vision, he saw Barry shake his head and turn away. He looked up to see him make the first throw. The dart hit close to the middle. "Not too bad," he commented.
"Maybe I should get some throwing stars, to take down criminals. They'd never see it coming."
"You're accuracy is wanting. Allen. You'd probably accidently kill a lot more people. Trying to hit that magic number?" Eobard grabbed his own dart. He paused. "Did get that recorded? Your throw?"
"Keeping score? Alright." Barry looked around, uncertain. "How do you propose we do that?"
"It's quite simple," Eobard replied with smugness. "Gideon. Please keep score."
"Yes, Professor Thawne."
"Of course you have her do it." He took another drink of the beverage in his hands, wincing. "You have her do everything."
Eobard also drank and said, "it's time to show you who is superior at all things, Flash - including darts."
"Oh, yeah, sure."
Eobard's dart struck closer to the center. "Rough start, Mr. Allen. It's okay - at least it's not the end of the world."
"It's just one dart, and we've got all night... We'll see."
Barry's dart missed the entire board by about five inches, glancing off the wall to clatter on the floor. "Woooowwww, that was really, really, really bad." He chuckled, dropping to the nearby booth. He drained the remainder of his glass.
"Are you even trying anymore?" Eobard launched his own dart. It thudded into the target, right in the soft, red middle.
"What is it with you?" Barry asked, face scrunched into a serious frown. "It's like you never miss. Are you even human - well, metahuman? ...You know what I mean."
"You're drunk, and even if you weren't - I'm about consistency. You, not so much. You're about getting lucky. Face it, Flash, you are terrible at this."
"Something tells me...that you spent years here, in secret...becoming a master of darts just to beat me, here and now... You and you're grand evil schemes...wouldn't surprise me..."
"If so, it was unintentional. Come on - just admit it, I'm better at darts."
"Fine... At darts," came the dragging reply. "Fighting, though, that's something else... You know I can mop the floor with that sorry yellow suit any day."
Eobard chortled. "Yeah. Sure. Dream on, Barry Allen."
"Well, I'm faster than you...and even if I weren't, I would win with my sheer..." he paused, confused. "Whatever. You have no idea how many metas I've beaten up."
"I'm sure I have no clue... Besides, if you knew our other timeline," Eobard replied. "You'd know I've knocked you on your ass plenty of times." Maybe that was a bit more of an indulgent lie than he'd like to admit. True, he had gotten to a point where he could keep up with that Flash, but he was certain that the actual ass-kicking ratio still weighed in the original Scarlet Speedster's favor, a small fact that rankled. Still, he'd never been captured by that Flash, and that was a truth he was proud of all by itself.
Barry's voice broke into his thoughts, "and I just have your word for it." He shook his head, silent for only a few seconds. "Why is there black on your suit, anyway? You know, like the entire bottom half of the suit is just...like, black… I mean, the upper part's yellow...then...below it's just black. Like...without warning. Are you trying to be a bee? Heh, a bee..."
"If you must know - I wanted to represent the blood that splattered all over me when I first murdered, but red was just too bright for my taste, and too reminiscent of you. My suit's design did not come from my future self, either, actually. His was almost all yellow, except for the emblem and a few bolts here and there, which were black."
Allen grimaced. "I don't feel so well. Maybe I..." He sat up straighter in his seat. "Where are the restrooms?"
Eobard sighed and stood from the booth. "And the inevitable has happened... This way, Mr. Allen." He gestured.
"Thanks so much, sweetheart."
"If you say that again, I'll strangle you."
After he had shown Barry, Eobard returned to the table, putting away the darts and tapping his holoblock to pay the bill.
When the other returned several minutes later, Eobard handed him a water he'd collected from Terra after explaining the situation. Barry drank at it, sighing. "That helped."
Eobard folded his arms, frowning at the other's state. He should have made him get something lighter on the menu. The Flash was pretty notorious for its knockdown capabilities. Oh well. Too late now. "We should go," he said, taking control of the situation. "It's late."
"We should go?"
"Yes."
"Did I win?"
"No."
"Are you sure?"
Patience. "Yes, I'm sure."
"Liar," Barry returned, shaking his head. He winced, then rubbed his temples. "You are such a liar, Eo."
"Don't you dare call me that."
"Bard?"
"Just as terrible."
"Evil?"
"No."
"Gideon, what's the score?"
"Twelve to fifty, Mr. Allen."
"So you're in on this conspiracy too, Gideon?"
"I don't understand the question."
Eobard frowned harder. "Ignore him, Gideon. He is inebriated and incomprehensible." He grabbed the other's arm, dragging him for the door. "Let's go before something bad happens."
If only any random person in this city could see the formidable and mighty Flash now, barely able to stand after consuming a drink with his own name on it. What would they think of their precious hero? Would they laugh in sympathy, or would they turn away in condescendence and disappointment? The Reverse Flash shook his head and rolled his eyes, recalling another Flash, one who had invented the drug that allowed a speedster to get drunk. That man could hold his liquor. Eobard supposed he should admit that there were a few differences between this Barry Allen and that other one.
The two made their way into the STAR Labs facility, crossing the former lobby which was dark and empty. Eobard looked dead ahead and pressed the button for the elevator. He forced himself to stare at nothing but the silver doors. He made himself ignore the speedster next to him. The drunk idiot had lost all control over his emotional veil and his molecules vibrated like they'd had too much caffeine, even though he hadn't tapped into the Speed Force even once. It didn't make sense to Eobard, though he figured it had more to do with unbridled emotion rather than physical energy or movement.
God, whatever it was, it was distracting. Eobard clenched his jaw, fingers folding into fists in the pockets of his coat. Just a few more minutes, and he'd be rid of the other, he reminded himself, thinking of returning to his room, sitting in the dark.
Alone.
By himself.
Not a good line of thinking, Eobard.
The elevator pinged open. The two of them walked in. Barry leaned on the handle inside, eyes half-lidded. Eobard kept himself to the other corner. He glared at the floor, letting his annoyance keep him in check.
Barry's hand rummaged in his pocket and he pulled out his block. He squinted at its projection. "It's one?"
"Yeah," Eobard said, "It's one A.M."
"Good thing I don't work tomorrow," Allen said, leaning against the wall as if it were the only thing in the world keeping him up. "This is going to be a hangover."
"Superspeed will help. But if you aren't wanting to give up that good feeling just yet, you should wait until morning." What was he saying? He berated himself the instant the words left his lips. "Or, you know, you can save yourself the trouble and tap into the Speed Force now."
No answer.
Not good.
His heart beat faster. Just keep calm. A few more steps, and the danger would pass.
Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. Why had he done this? What was he thinking, getting Barry drunk like this?
Just like...
He was hit with a terrible curiosity if some part of him had done this on purpose, had wanted to get Barry out of his mind...
Surely not.
In another ping, the elevator halted. They stepped out.
Almost there.
"You know, Eobard, you are very handsome," Barry announced behind him.
Eobard froze. He hadn't expected that. He could only attribute it to the other's current state of mind. He turned around, even though he knew he should have kept walking. He should have ignored Allen. But the vanity in him was elated the Flash had just called him handsome. "Really? You genuinely think that?"
"Yes."
Barry closed the distance between them, kissing him. Thawne made a slight noise at the invasiveness of the kiss, the way the hands clasped his sides, the way his opposite pressed against him with his entire body. He let himself fall into it. His thoughts folded into themselves at the heady mixture of a buzz, of being against Barry, of his vibrating molecules and of their shared desire in that wondrous moment. He pushed back against the mouth, eyes shutting. Oh, how he wanted to lose himself into this feeling forever.
Hands slid up his back. His heartbeat shifted into a faster rhythm.
Stop this... I know you don't want it like this. That voice from a tense set of lips echoed in his head, and Eobard remembered wary eyes watching him with a mixture of defiance, anger, uncertainty, and possibly some fear. The memory of the look sickened him, brought a realization to his mind of how close he'd came to doing something terrible. Something he could still do.
He broke the kiss off. "Barry," he warned.
"You want me, Thawne. Have me," the Flash murmured in a silky tone. Somehow, he seemed to force himself closer, hands moving down, now, showing no sign of letting go. Damn, this was so not good...and yet, it was, fingers digging into his thighs, hips crushed against his. "I don't know why I waited...but I don't want to even a second longer."
Conversely, the Reverse Flash's mind echoed words already heard from Barry. Eobard... I know you're better than this...
His conflicting emotions collided inside of him.
Every cell in his body longed to respond with a similar lack of self-control as Barry. He longed to lean forward, to kiss again, to push his tongue past the other's lips. He longed to force the other to the wall without even a millimeter of space between them. He longed to rip his clothes away with a satisfying shredding, to tear him from the dark red tunic and have his pale skin stark against the metallic surface. He longed for the Flash to be that vulnerable to him, nothing hidden as lust burned in his eyes. He longed for the man to gasp his name into his ear, to beg him, to give in to him.
And then he'd fill him and pleasure him and have him screaming all night long if he wished.
He burned for it - for the Flash to surrender to him, and only him.
He felt dizzy.
But...this is not surrender, he knew. He was right. This isn't how I want this.
Eobard seized his wrists, stopping the hands' progress on himself, stopping the fantasizing in his own mind. He took a deep breath, steadying himself, and shook his head, determination filling him. "Stop it. You're drunk, Bartholomew."
"So? And don't call me that..."
"While I'm certain you would enjoy it very much, Bartholomew, I have no wish to take advantage of you."
"I don't mind," came the reply, showing the first hints of irritation now. "Why do you?"
"Oh, you would. Trust me. If I took advantage of you tonight, the you that wakes up tomorrow wouldn't be too happy about it."
"I'll be fine... And I thought you wanted me?"
"Not like this." Eobard gritted his teeth, wanting to fling the idiot across the room for putting him in such a difficult position. Good. Aggravation was good. Aggravation would keep both of their clothes on. Hopefully.
For a moment, they glared at each other.
Barry muttered first, "whatever, I don't want to argue... I have a headache now." He pulled away, and Eobard was given the impression of strong tape being pulled off at the way the other did so with extreme reluctance.
He almost sighed aloud in relief, yet it was also coupled with the urge to shout in utter frustration. He held it all in, ensuring he didn't react at all. He kept his scowl in place until Allen turned and strolled down the hallway. When he was out of sight, Eobard shuddered, slumping his shoulders. He was dismayed to know that it would have been so easy - so, so, so stupidly easy to do something he would have regretted. Why did Allen get to push his limits without any effort and walk away unscathed? It wasn't fair.
Patience. If nothing else, this display just proved how much he truly wants me. He has to come around soon. He has to. Then, I don't have to worry about resisting anymore... It's all a matter of time, now.
