On the knee
Barry Allen is six and small for his age - though he would be the first to tell you that he was going to grow up big and strong just like his dad. Nerdy and a little scrawny, too, this makes him the perfect target for the schoolyard bullies. It starts with teasing, then it becomes practical jokes, and stealing all of his stuff and Barry doesn't like it at all.
His father's advice is to stand up to the bullies, though this doesn't help much because when Barry gathers up the nerve to tell the bullies off, it turns into shoving and hitting.
His mother's advice is to run away and to talk to the teacher, though that doesn't help much either. He's not that fast and even when he does manage to tell the teacher, it only makes the bullies meaner and angrier.
It's on one such occasion that he's running from bullies that he meets Iris West. Or almost runs into her, to be precise.
He had turned his head, trying to see how far the bullies were and how much they were gaining on him, and she hadn't been paying attention either and when he turns back, she's right there. He tries to slow down or change directions a little, but it only makes him trip over his own feet and he falls and skids right in front of her.
"Are you okay?" she asks, bending down to help him.
Barry winces, looking down at his hands. They had broken his fall, but there were scrapes and it stung. Not to mention his knee feels a bit sore and he opens his mouth to tell her this but then Tony Woodward and the other bullies appear.
"Looks like you can't run anymore, Allen," Tony taunts, smirking.
Iris draws herself to her full height and steps in front of Barry, shielding him from the bullies. She's not tall and she's not big, but her stance is protective and intimidating. "Leave him alone."
"What are you going to do about it? You're just a girl?" one of the bullies sneers.
Iris considers showing them just exactly what a girl could do, but it's three-on-two and the fallen boy does not exactly seem like he could hold his own in a fight.
"If you don't leave him alone right now, I'm gonna tell my daddy on you," she says, a fierce glare in her eyes. "He's a cop and he could put you all in jail if he wanted to."
That does the trick and the bullies disperse, grumbling about payback later. Iris ignores them and turns her attention back to the boy, her glare replaced by a huge smile.
"They should leave you alone now," she says cheerfully.
Barry looks up at the face of his savior for the first time and his stomach does this weird flip-flop. She looks like an angel. "Um. Thank you," he says, his face heating up.
"You're Barry Allen, right?" she says. "From Miss Miller's class?"
"Uh-huh."
"I'm Iris West. I'm in Mr. Johnson's class."
"Iris," he says, trying it out. The name sounds so pretty on his lips. He grins. "That's a really nice name."
"Thanks," she says, beaming. One of her front teeth is missing, but Barry thinks it's a cute smile. "I like yours too."
"Is your dad really a cop?" he asks.
"Yup," she says, eyes brightening. "He's the bravest daddy in the world."
"That's so cool," he says, awed.
"Uh-oh. You have a boo-boo," she says, her forehead creasing with concern.
Barry looks down at his knee, where a few scrapes had formed. "Uh, yeah. It's okay."
But she's already bowing her head, her lips brushing against his injured skin. "There. All better."
Barry's cheeks heat up again and he hopes he doesn't look like a tomato. "Thanks."
And even though Barry is smart enough to know that kisses don't make boo-boos feel better, Iris' kiss does make it feel a lot better.
On the cheek
Barry is ten and he and Iris are best friends now. They've been best friends ever since she stood up to those bullies and kissed him on the knee. They do everything together—so much that everyone takes to calling them BarryandIris. It's never just Barry, never just Iris, it's always BarryandIris in one big breath because you could never really find one without the other.
It's their fifth grade field trip to the zoo and Iris had convinced him to sneak off from the rest of their group with her. Barry hesitates — they could get lost or left behind — but Iris gets that twinkle in her eye and that mischievous grin and Barry really can't say no to that face even though he knows it spells trouble sometimes.
They visit the elephants and the monkeys and the snakes and they they run around, free from supervision, and it's all fun and games until Iris realizes she's lost her mother's wedding band.
He helps her search for it but their teacher finds them eventually and doesn't listen to either of them, furious that they had run away.
Iris is crying on the bus and Barry doesn't know what to do because none of his jokes are working and everyone is staring at them and all he wants is to see her pretty smile.
"Hey, hey. Don't cry. I'll pull up all my allowances and we'll visit the zoo every week until we find your ring," he says, a little desperately.
That halts her tears. "Really?"
It's a big promise and he's not ever one to make promises lightly, but he nods emphatically. "Even if it takes us ten years."
"You're—hiccough—the sweetest person ever, Barry Allen," Iris says, a small smile finally adorning her face. And even with her tear-streaked cheeks and her puffy eyes, Barry thinks she's the prettiest girl he's ever seen. "I love you."
Barry's cheeks heat up and his heart thumps faster in his chest. "I, uh, s-same," he stammers nervously as he rubs the back of his neck.
And just when he thought he couldn't get any hotter, she brushes her lips against his cheek and he feels his whole face burn.
"You're the bestest friend ever," she declares.
He's too stunned to reply. But if he had, he would've told her that she was the bestest friend ever, too.
Their parents don't let them go to the zoo every week and Iris doesn't hold him to his promise, but he brings a hand to the spot that her lips had touched and he formulates a new plan that doesn't come into fruition until a certain Christmas.
On the hand
Barry is thirteen and he and Iris are going to their first school dance together. Well, together isn't exactly accurate. They're going as a group with their other friends, but Iris had declared Barry to be her "friend-date" and they were even wearing matching colors.
Barry thinks he looks a little ridiculous in his slightly too-big blue dress shirt, but Iris looks really pretty in her knee-length party dress. Not that that surprises him because she always looks pretty.
The girls all dance together or more like they jump up and down in the beat of the fast song and all the guys line the walls, filling the time with idle chitchat. Iris pulls Barry in with the girls for a couple of the upbeat songs, but for the most part he hangs out with his guy friends during all of those. Iris sometimes hangs out with him when she needs a break from the dancing and they're sitting down at a table doing just that when the music slows.
"Well?" Iris demands, raising an eyebrow.
Barry raises an eyebrow right back at her. "Well what?"
"Aren't you going to ask me to dance?" she asks, grinning at him.
His palms start to sweat, but he matches her grin. "Hm… I don't know.. What if you step on my toes?"
"Jerk," she says, shoving at him lightly. She sticks her tongue out at him. "You're the one who'd be stepping on my toes."
"Very true," he says a little regretfully. He wishes he were a smooth dancer who could sweep her off her feet. "Why do you want to dance with me again?"
"Because you're my date, silly," she says in a tone that says it should be obvious to him. "Now ask me to dance."
"So demanding," he says.
She slaps his arm. "Barry!"
"Alright, alright," he says, laughing. He gets up and does this silly, hammy bow, taking one of her hands and brushing it against his lips. If he lets his lips linger well… he's only human. "May I have the pleasure of a dance, milady?"
Her smile is extra-wide when she says yes.
On the nose
Barry is sixteen and a little drunk. He and Iris are at their first high school party with alcohol. Actually, no. They've been to other high school parties with alcohol, but it's the first time they're actually drinking the alcohol.
Barry thinks he's doing pretty well. He's had a lot to drink — blame beer pong with Iris. They had been a great team, beating every challenger, but it had still been many, many games — but he's still pretty coherent on the whole.
Iris, on the other hand, is not doing half as well. She's always been a pretty giggly and bubbly girl, but the alcohol ups the giggles at least ten-fold. Not to mention there's a lot of slurred words and stumbling. She's been using him for balance almost all night, clinging on to his arm and pressing her warm body against him, which would normally be really awesome but being drunk is not really helping Barry's control and he kind of has to adjust his pants a lot. A lot.
They're walking home, Iris' heels in Barry's hand, and she's pressing even closer to him for warmth and Barry really has to think hard to keep his thoughts on the periodic table and not other things.
"Mmm, you're really warm," she says, nuzzling her face against his shoulder. "You're my pershonal heater."
"Ar-argon. Potassium," he murmurs, throat drying.
"Huh?"
"Nothing."
Calcium.
They get home with zero incidents and luckily, Joe is out, on-call for a case. Iris makes him carry her up the stairs and he nearly drops her and falls down when he feels her hot breath against his neck.
Gallium. Germanium. Fuck. Arsenic.
He carries her into her room and tries to tuck her into bed, but she shoots out and insists that they stay up and talk and Barry humors her because she's a really cute drunk.
"Hey, Barry," she says, inching her face closer to his.
"Yeah?" he says, a little breathless.
"You have pr-per-pretty eyes," she says.
His heart pounds loudly in his ears because she's inching even closer and her eyes close so his eyes close, too, and his lips part slightly and—
He feels her lips brush against his nose. His eyes fly wide open.
"Your nose ish sho cute," she says before she dissolves into another round of giggles.
His mouth tastes like marbles and his stomach swirls with disappointment, but he pushes that aside and smiles at her. "I think it's time for bed."
"Will you shleep with me?" she asks, eyes wide and shining, cheeks rosy, lips curved into a wide smile.
He knows she means it in an innocent way, but his alcohol-impaired brain jumps straight to sex and his pants feel a little tighter and—
He really needs a cold shower.
On the forehead
Barry is eighteen and fully aware of his feelings for Iris. Unfortunately, she doesn't seem to return the feelings because she's been crying about some boy for the past hour.
Iris doesn't date a lot and she always ends up dumping guys after three dates, but this guy had made it to seven dates. Barry hadn't liked it and had silently wished the whole thing would end and he gets his wish because the guy dumps her for another girl and he wants so badly to take it back because seeing a heartbroken Iris breakshis heart and he just feels so, so awful.
"I just—hiccough—liked—hiccough—him—hiccough—so much," she says, tears flowing down her face.
He rubs her back softly, his stomach churning with guilt. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
"W-why doesn't he like me? A-am I n-not p-pretty enough?" she asks, voice cracking, face crumpling, eyes welling with more tears."Am I n-not s-smart enough? Am I-am I—"
"Hey, hey," he says, cupping her face gently. "Look at me. That guy's an idiot, okay? You're so pretty and so smart. I can't think of any other girl who's prettier than you. And c'mon, you're always winning arguments with me. How can you be stupid? He's the stupid one, letting a girl like you go."
It gets her to smile a little.
"Y-you're j-just saying that," she accuses, wiping at her eyes, her body still shaking and heaving.
"No, Iris. Really, you're—you're perfect," he says and without even really thinking, he presses his lips against her forehead.
If he weren't too pressed with mentally berating himself and nervously wondering what she would do or say, he would have noticed how her body calms after the act
"Y-you really think I'm pretty and smart?" Iris asks, once her tears subside, in a much too small voice. And it's all wrong because Iris' personality is big and bright and god, if he could kill the douchebag who made her feel like this, he would.
"You know that you're pretty and smart," Barry says. "Or you should. Don't let some asshole make you think otherwise."
She gives him a watery smile. "But I'm asking if you really think so."
"Of course," he says, hoping that she can feel the sincerity of his words. "You're the prettiest and smartest girl I know."
This time her smile reaches her eyes. "Thanks, Barry."
He presses another soft kiss to the top of her head. "Just telling the truth, Iris."
On the lips
Barry is twenty-five and almost everything has changed. He's now a superhero with super speed and he's battling meta-humans with lots of various abilities and his whole life is different now. The only thing thing in his life that hasn't changed—okay, well besides Joe—is Iris. She's been there for him through thick and thin, through a coma, through everything. Even knowing his feelings for her doesn't stop her from being his best friend, though it's admittedly awkward for a few weeks.
He tries to give her space. He doesn't pressure her. He doesn't ask about Eddie. He doesn't expect her to return his feelings now or even ever. And he's certainly not a "Nice Guy" douchebag who'll blame her if she doesn't return his feelings.
Iris is his best friend, first and foremost, and his feelings for her do nothing to change that for them.
Besides, he had pretty much resigned himself to the fact that she could never possibly have feelings for him back when he was seventeen.
You can imagine his surprise when Iris informs him that she, in fact, does return his feelings.
It starts with an innocuous comment that she and Eddie had broken up. The news surprises him, though he doesn't dare hope that it has anything to do with him. A couple weeks pass and nothing changes, which only confirms it.
But then she shows up at his apartment in the middle of the night and tells him that they need to talk. He had been expecting it to be about a rant about Eddie or possibly some news about her new job that she couldn't wait to tell him in person.
He should have realized that something was up with the way she nervously bites her lip or the way her leg shakes as she starts her preamble about her relationship with Eddie.
"You know, when I started dating Eddie, things in my life had spiraled out of control," she says, casting her eyes down. "You were—you were in that coma and you weren't waking up and everything just felt so empty. Eddie made it slightly more bearable, but it didn't feel full again until you woke up from that god-awful coma."
His heart makes it way to his throat, thumping a little louder. "Iris—"
"No, you got your turn to talk," she says. "Now it's mine."
He swallows and nods, biting his lip now to hold in the questions that keep threatening to spill out.
"I didn't realize what it meant that my life felt empty without you, that it felt full with you back in it. I just—I thought, of course, of course it would. You're my best friend. You've been my best friend since I was five and I had to beat off bullies for you. But the thing is—the thing is that you're not just my best friend, Bear. My life feels full when you're in it because I'm in love with you, too."
And his heart beats so fast that he thinks he just might explode. Time slows. Everything stops. He feels like he could run a million laps right now without ever tiring. He wants to scream it out to the heavens. Iris West is in love with him, Barry Allen.
He wants to say a million things, wants to ask her a million questions, but all his words get stuck in his throat and he can't speak because Iris West is in love with him.
"Well?" she asks, her mouth curving into a teasing smile. "Aren't you going to kiss me?"
And his brain kind of overloads. Kissing. Iris. ! He has to pinch himself to make sure he isn't dreaming.
Iris must have gotten impatient because she pulls at his collar and brings his mouth to hers. He can't stop himself from smiling into the kiss.