"We're doing this, Bear. And that's the final word."
"Excuse me: since when does anyone other than the groom that you're supposedly celebrating have the final word on anything?"
"Since you asked me to be your Best Man, Genius," Cisco retorts. "If you don't like it, think twice before putting that much power in my hands, power that only these Vibe hands could harness," he taunts, wiggling his fingers.
"It's not too late to change that decision," Barry retaliates, still surveying Cisco haughtily as he turns towards his future brother-in-law. "Wally?"
"Yeah, I'd rethink that move," Wally smirks. "Because if you're under the impression that I'd turn down an opportunity to see you out of your element at your own Bachelor Party, you don't know me at all, Bro." He elbows him for added measure. "And do you REALLY deserve to marry my sister if that's the case?"
"Come on Wally," Barry pleads. "I can't even get drunk. You can't even get drunk!"
"Uh, I can get drunk," Cisco interjects with a raised hand.
"And I don't need alcohol to have fun," Wally brags.
Barry throw his arms up exasperatedly. "I don't want a Bachelor Party!" he exclaims. "Seriously, any money for a trip or a bar, club-whatever I would rather save or put towards something special Iris might really want for the wedding-"
"Oh, Iris wants this," Cisco interrupts, winking at Wally who nods back enthusiastically. "Trust me."
"Trust us," Wally adds.
Barry's eyes narrow at the two of them. "What do you mean…Iris wants this?"
"Well, for starters, I know she definitely wants a wild Bachelorette Party of her own-"
"-and she just wants you to have good time too!" Cisco interrupts, flashing his eyes dangerously at Wally, thinking it best not to plant an image of Iris surrounded by burly male strippers in Barry's mind, at least not while they were soliciting him.
Barry raises his eyebrows. "Are you kidding me? Iris knows that's not what I'd consider a good time. I've never even set foot in a strip club," he laughs to himself, rubbing his neck bashfully before snapping back into solemnity. "And I don't plan to!"
"Woah-who said anything about a strip club?" Cisco disputes.
Wally opens his mouth to object before a glare from Cisco makes him reconsider his words carefully.
"Yeah, you've been jumping to all these conclusions without even hearing us out, Bear," he points out, eventually catching on to Cisco's scheme. "We just want to take you out."
"Just the guys," Cisco chimes in quickly.
"Just for fun."
"To celebrate you."
"And your last night of freedom," Wally concludes with a satisfied grin.
The casual remark backfires, inducing the opposite of its intended reaction in Barry.
"Freedom?!" he mouths in offended disbelief. "I'd marry Iris right now if I could!"
"Yeah, yeah, of course you would," Cisco reassures Barry, gritting his teeth at Wally as yet a third reprimand. "Look Barry," he starts, bringing an arm around his shoulder, leaning in. "There's a new pub in Petersburg that everyone's raving about. We'll check it out, eat some burgers, drink some beers, then head back to my place and have a Star Trek marathon. Capiche?"
Barry blinks. "How is that any different from what we always do?"
"Capiche?"
"Alright, alright," Barry sighs. "Sorry," he chuckles, clearly more at ease now. "I just couldn't imagine myself at a strip club…"
"What the hell are we doing at a strip club?!"
"Barry, calm down-" Wally instructs.
"You outlined exactly what our itinerary was and THIS," he motions vehemently to the large neon sign that claimed Central City's finest exotic dancing, "was not a part of it!"
"I know," Cisco admits.
"You know???" Barry sputters. "How dare you? I was so ready for Star Trek."
"Barry-"
"I even wore the Starfleet boxers!"
"You did?" Cisco asks, interest suddenly piqued. "Do they fit okay? Wasn't sure if I got you the right size."
This time, Wally is the one to chastise Cisco.
"Barry, I know we lied to you," Wally begins. "But I promise you, you are going to love what's behind those doors."
Barry looks between the two of them hysterically.
"Do you-know-who I am?" he barely musters.
"Yes, which is why you need to get your ass inside, RIGHT NOW," Cisco demands, losing patience by the minute.
"You'll have to make me," Barry asserts, crossing his arms.
Wally lazily picks Barry up and in a split second, deposits him indoors.
"Hey, you trained me," Wally justifies himself in the face of Barry's fury once he's steadily standing. When he realizes his surroundings however, his rage becomes confusion.
"What-where are we?"
"At your first strip club!" Cisco proclaims, having finally caught up to the Speedsters.
"I know that!" Barry snaps. "But why is no one here but us?"
Wally and Cisco exchange sly smiles.
"Well, not no one…"
A bright light overhead abruptly flashes and turns on, shocking Barry into the realization that he's standing on an elevated platform. Further realization reveals that he's in fact situated on the main centered stage.
"What is going on?" Barry accosts Wally and Cisco only to discover they're no longer in the club. Instinctively, out of vigilant habit, he fears a kidnapping by a meta, braces himself for attack-
"Why so serious, Flash?" a sultry voice echoes through the expanse of the room. "Don't want to celebrate your big day?"
Barry whips around and almost collapses.
Iris struts over to him gracefully in dangerous black pumps. Her chest boasts a black studded corset. Her red pants are sleek, and compliment her striking ruby lips and vivid eye makeup. The ensemble is completed with black leather gloves on her toned arms and a choker that highlights her glorious neck. Long curls cascade down her back as she strides in his direction, and the closer she approaches, the dizzier he feels.
No doubt it's because all his blood has rushed southbound at the sight of her. It wouldn't be the first time he's been enchanted with her to the extent that his dick responds before he does.
He's still awestruck when Iris finally reaches him.
"Regretting your Bachelor Party resistance?" she smirks, cocking her head to one side. The strain at his groin grows tighter and Barry notes that Cisco must have not accounted for potential boners when selecting which size underwear to buy for him.
All thoughts of Cisco and his misshaped wedding gifts vanish however when Iris swiftly seizes his shoulders and pushes him into a chair that seemingly appeared from thin air.
"Iris…what are you doing?" he gulps, though he's grinning up at her eagerly, almost foolish with excitement.
Iris plops down onto his lap easily, which does nothing to help his erection. She brings a hand to fiddle with the hair at the back of his neck. The gesture is gentle, soothing, and Barry closes his eyes, leans into her touch-
He quickly learns any tenderness was a false pretense, because without notice, more sudden than even he can process, Iris grinds her hips against his pelvis in one calculated, commanding move.
Barry hisses, before staring at her wordlessly, stunned at the rapid change of direction.
"Maybe a warning before starting?" he asks weakly, tipping his head back to catch his breath.
"What, you mean besides the outfit and the secluded nightclub?" Iris snickers.
An upbeat, provocative tune plays overhead, and Barry can't even contemplate how, not when Iris is moving over him in harmony with the beat. She adjusts herself to lift and sink onto his crotch again, this time more slowly, and Barry seethes once more, only this time, with a smile and some upward thrusts of his own.
"So who looks better in red leather?" she teases, sliding up and down leisurely. "You or me?"
"You," he gasps. "Definitely you."
She laughs, and takes his wrists in her gloved hands, brings his palms to her chest and rubs them across her breasts, to her abdomen and back above. He fondles her under her guiding hands for some time until giddiness actually flushes Barry's cheeks.
"I thought this was going to take more effort," Iris snorts when his avid groping becomes avid kissing. "You're easy to please."
"You're easy to love," Barry mumbles defensively in-between kisses.
She tugs at Barry's hair to yank his lips from her collar, which he protests.
"If I were an actual stripper, you wouldn't be able to do that you know," she jokes.
"But you're not," Barry pouts as she turns her body around to sit on his thighs while leaning her back against his torso, enough to feel his chest with every breath he takes, enough to feel that her position directly over where he's erect has him heaving softly.
"And to think you'd have missed this," Iris murmurs smugly. She presses her heels into the stage to seesaw herself across his bulge, bends herself so far back that her spine presses his ribs.
"I'm an idiot," comes Barry's labored voice near her ear, which has always been an indicator of how near his peak is.
She reaches for his hands again, leading them back to the bust of her corset. While Barry kneads her breasts from under her own palms, they grind together in a steady rhythm with more and more rigor until Barry exhales forcefully and throbs beneath her.
They remain in their seated, parallel tangle, both of them struggling to catch their breath after exerting themselves, Iris swaying with the movement of Barry's chest. The music is still audible above them, seemingly more hushed though against the sound of their heavy respiration.
Iris links her fingers with Barry's absentmindedly. "Better than Star Trek?"
"Way better," Barry pants behind her.
She twists her head to nuzzle his neck as best as she can from her position and he in turn leans down to kiss her forehead.
"I think you owe Wally and Cisco an apology and a thank you," Iris muses.
"I think you're right."
She giggles, fully turning around now so that she can straddle and properly curl up to him, kicking her heels off in the process. They fall to the stage with a slight clatter. Once her bare ankles dangle on either side of him, his arms come up to hold her close.
"So," she inquires casually, beaming. "The club. Would you come again?"
Barry smirks. "Only if they always promise Central City's Finest."
