It was just past dawn when Barry snuck into the house, a furtive activity that had become somewhat frequent since his relationship with Iris crossed the line into intimacy. As the door closed behind him with a soft snick, he congratulated himself on once again making it home unnoticed.
That's when Joe stepped out of the kitchen, coffee cup in hand.
Barry froze as solidly as if he'd been snared by Snart's cold gun, which was strange considering his skin suddenly felt like it was made of fire. Eyes wide, mouth open, cheeks mottled crimson, he stared at the man who'd mostly raised him and tried to remember if Iris had marked him during the night in any place that might be visible. When Joe's gaze dropped down his chest, the memory of a button flying across her bedroom had his fingers flying to cover the empty spot on his shirt where it should have been.
For once, the Flash was a second too late.
Joe took a sip of coffee and then set the cup aside in a gesture so casual Barry's senses immediately tingled with warning.
"I love you," he said. "You know that, don't you?"
"Um . . ." Barry swallowed hard to get past the lump in his throat that made speech almost impossible. His always rapid pulse pounded even harder. " . . . Yea. I know."
Languid strides brought Joe closer. Glittering dark eyes fixed the younger man in place and held him there.
"I raised you like a son. Treated you like a son." One corner of his mouth lifted in a gesture that could have been a smile . . . except it wasn't. "I think of you as a son. You know that, too, right?"
Barry's head dipped in the tiniest of nods. Like a cobra dancing to the hypnotic sound of a flute, he was unable to look away from the dangerous man in front of him. "Uh huh . . ."
In a move so fast it would have done the Flash proud, Joe grabbed his shirt with two fists and slammed him back against the wall next to the front door. Barry bounced hard enough to make the pictures hanging there rattle.
"Good, because if you hurt my daughter, all of that is over." Joe's face was so close, their noses almost touched. The familiar warmth was gone from his eyes, leaving them hard and flat, and lethally cold. His voice, barely loud enough to reach Barry's ears, was a menacing whisper. "If I see one tear, just one, you will answer to me, Barry Allen. Got that? Superhero or not, I will end you." With the shirt still knotted in his hands, he gave the younger man a rough shake to emphasize his words. "Do we understand each other?"
Barry was already nodding, this time repeatedly and insistently. "Yes. I understand. I understand. I do."
"I thought you would." Joe released him with a broad smile, and just like that, the terrifyingly dangerous man disappeared into the affectionate father-figure he'd always been. Calm and at ease, he picked up the coffee mug he'd set aside earlier and headed for the door. He patted Barry's shoulder on the way out. "I'll see you at the station."
As his car pulled out of the driveway, Barry slid bonelessly down the wall.