The living room is warm, the couch cosy beneath her, the wine they're drinking sweet on Iris's tongue. She meets his eyes, smiles, and there's something beautiful about the way his eyes light up in the glow of the candles around them that makes it hard for her to speak.

Barry smiles back nervously. "What?"

Iris shakes her head. "You're just really handsome," she tells him, and his smile just grows wider as he puts down his glass and reaches for hers to do the same. Their fingers brush and she lets him take her glass, watching him carefully.

"You," Barry says, "are not so bad yourself."

He leans forward, hand settling on her thigh, and kisses her, just a quick one at first, then she kisses him back. He tastes of wine, hot and sweet and intoxicating, and she lies back, lets him push gently at her shoulders so he's half on top of her. Then he pulls away and Iris opens her eyes but Barry just smiles that dumb beautiful smile of his and her heart soars.

"What?" she says, mimicking him.

He shakes his head, pushes a few stray strands of hair behind her ear and then touches her cheek. "I stand corrected. You're not not so bad."

"Barry Allen, are you drunk already?" Iris teases. "I thought that wasn't even possible for you."

"When I'm with you, anything's possible," he tells her, kissing her again, more tenderly this time. "What I meant to say is – you're beautiful. And I've… thought so since forever."

And when their eyes lock together she knows he means it – she can see the earnestness there, and something else, less easy to decipher. He's always been something of a mystery, Barry has, even to Iris.

"What's on your mind?" she asks softly.

"How much you mean to me," he says instantly. "And I – is this – are you… okay?"

Iris just smiles, finds his hand, still lightly on her thigh on top of her skirt. "You mean is this okay?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah, it's okay," she says. Then she reaches up, undoes a couple of his shirt buttons so she can place her hands on his chest. "But, uh, is this?"

"Y-yeah," Barry says, and he doesn't object when she unfastens a couple more buttons, so her fingers are dancing over his abdomen underneath his shirt. He kisses her, then, hard and fast so Iris is breathless, and there's something different about this kiss. She can feel it, in the way Barry's hand goes up to her arm and a jolt of electricity passes through them, but all it does is exhilarate Iris more, as she kisses him back more ardently, undoing the remaining buttons on his shirt.

Barry's hand moves up, dragging along her skirt and up, up, until it settles somewhere on Iris's middle. He looks up, an unasked question in his eyes. In answer Iris just kisses him harder, grabbing his hand and guiding it to her breast.

"Uh, are you sure…"

"Bear," Iris says patiently, "I will tell you if it's too much. I promise."

"Iris, I –" he blurts out, but he breaks off and kisses her instead, and for a moment Iris wonders what he was about to say.

It's only a moment, though, because she becomes lost in his kiss, the way his tongue darts out and licks her lip. And then, almost without warning, his hand moves up to cup her breast and she can't help but moan at the sensation that causes. Daringly, Barry moves his hand down again, edging just under the hem of her camisole. Iris lies back, watching, waiting, and just when she opens her mouth to tell him it's okay he reaches up and under her clothing, undoing the clasp of her bra with far more ease than she expects.

Then he buries his tongue into her mouth, kissing her, while his hands explore her back, taking his time, finding his bearings, before cupping her breast once more, thumb faintly brushing against her nipple and making it harden right there. Iris groans softly, right in Barry's mouth, rocking her hips against him. Then she opens her eyes, meets his with a smile.

"What?" says Barry slightly – and rather cutely – uncertainly.

"You're just… really good at this," Iris says. "Maybe Becky Cooper did one thing right."

"Actually, Becky and I never… you know," Barry admits.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously." Barry hides his face in Iris's neck, planting soft kisses along her collarbone while his fingers slip down into the waistband of her skirt. "We, uh, never got that far."

"Well, fine. Whoever your teacher was – I'd like to send her flowers."

Barry laughs, and Iris can feel the warm hum of his laughter on her skin.

"There's also the possibility that I could just be naturally good at this. Just saying."

"Sure, Flash," Iris murmurs with a laugh, but it becomes a gasp when his fingers slip inside the elastic of her panties.

"I'll stop if you want me to," he says.

"I… ah. I –" Iris breaks off, trying to think for a moment – but it's difficult when she can feel an insistent hardness press against her thigh. "Not inside," she says eventually. "But, uh… anything else is fair game."

"Okay." Barry nods, and Iris closes her eyes, waits. Sure enough, seconds later, his hand goes under her skirt, onto her bare thigh, and she shivers at his touch. She leans forward, just enough to kiss him clumsily on his lips, and she can feel his mouth upturn into a smile against hers at that. Then she gasps again, as he presses his forefinger against her through her panties, and he pulls away a little to meet her eyes.

"Again," she whispers, and Barry raises his eyebrow just a little but nevertheless complies, touching her through her underwear once more.

Iris reaches down, then, and tugs off the offending garment, not even all the way down, just to her knees, but Barry gets it. He's the one to gasp this time, as two fingers meet her hot centre. They slide easily in through the wetness of her arousal and Iris lets out a keening moan, arching into him, finding a handful of his open shirt and pulling him towards her so their lips meet once more in a searing kiss.

"Tell me to stop and I'll stop," Barry murmurs again, but Iris shakes her head vehemently.

"Don't – ahhh." She shudders, and she knows she's close now, when Barry's fingers hit the spot that makes her cry out as a wave of fresh pleasure threatens to overwhelm her. Barry seems to notice, though, and he lightens his touch a bit, going slower, while he drops a kiss on her cheek and then her neck, and then another, and then another, and then Iris reaches up, takes his face into her hands and kisses his lips, and Barry touches her again, right there, and that's all it takes for Iris to come with a moan and a satisfied sigh.

Barry's watching her, his eyes an aroused, burnt blue, and this time when she meets his eyes he immediately says, "I love you."

"Barry, I –"

But Barry stops her, silences her with a kiss. "I don't need to hear it back," he tells her, leaning his forehead against hers. "Not yet. I know it's soon, and I – don't want to push you."

"You're not," Iris says, and she means it.

"Still," he reasons, "you don't have to."

She considers. "Fine," she says eventually. "I still do, though."

They both laugh and kiss and in that time Iris manages to pull up her panties, straighten herself out a bit, enough for her to push at his shoulders so she's straddling him, now, her hand wandering for the first time between his legs.

"Your turn," she whispers to him.