A/N: This was completely unexpected, but when requests or gentle hints or probing remarks come into the atmosphere, it gives me great pleasure to oblige. Plus, I was planning on writing this scenario up at some point anyway. Hope you enjoy my take on Barry & Iris's – not too explicit, as requested – first time together. (Takes place post-s2 and any flashpoint SL that probably happens. Everything in this fic is back in the main timeline we've seen in the series so far, post-whatever the writers are planning initially in s3. :P)

DEDICATION: To infinitely-complex (previously wallys-linda) on tumblr who requested this (sorta). Hope it's everything you hoped for, girl! If not, someone seriously go write westallen's first time a million different ways until one pops up that suits her craving. She deserves it for all the encouragement she's given me, and her love for this ship in general.

*I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended.

…

They'd been dating for two months since Barry had reversed time two times over to come back and face his demons in the time he was meant to, in the time he belonged. Surprisingly, after all the chaos he'd unknowingly caused, it was much easier to move forward with his life than he'd expected it to be. Probably because he'd dealt with much of it in the time he wasted undoing the damage he'd done by altering the timeline.

Within a week, he'd proposed to Iris a first date again. She was wary at first; because it felt so soon after he'd deliberately put distance between them. But to him it felt like a lifetime, so when she caved it was all he could do not to run around the city and back again.

Since then they'd been on many dates. They went out at least a couple times a week, despite their busy schedules. He knew it wouldn't last, but here in the beginning he wanted their relationship to be as perfect as possible. He'd waited over a decade for her. He wasn't about to make her wait just as long, even if he knew she would in a heartbeat. He just made sure to constantly keep in mind how he couldn't screw this up, so he planned everything to the tee every time. Half the time that backfired on him, but when it did, they just switched gears and stayed up all night talking, swapping stories and inevitably making out.

Kissing Iris on a regular basis did things to Barry's insides that he didn't imagine was possible. The butterfly effect was heightened somehow. He still found it a little difficult to adjust to the reality that she was his, that she loved him, and that she was seeing him finally in the way he'd always seen her right from the beginning.

The first time they kissed – the first time they kissed on a date rather, Barry's heart was thumping so fast he wondered if she could hear it. He felt hot and nervous, yet chilled and calm. When his lips brushed hers nothing existed but the two of them.

"This is where I kissed you for the first time," he'd whispered when reluctantly he pulled away.

She'd looked at him in confusion, because it wasn't the West porch. They were in a park along the coast.

Barry hadn't been planning on telling her about that first kiss. For all his lies and deceit, Eobard Thawne disguised as Harrison Wells probably had it right when he said talking about a different timeline, an erased timeline was a bad idea. Since that first time though, it had become obvious that he failed in trying to maintain time as it was supposed to be.

There was also the fact though that this was a kiss Iris didn't remember, and so maybe it should be tucked away and forgotten for that reason alone.

The fact of the matter was though that he would never forget that moment for as long as he lived. And, in time, he would even tell her about the time he'd had to erase after he'd saved his mother, because they'd had moments then too.

This was the time that mattered most – that was most real to him, but the others had been real when they'd happened and he wanted her to know their whole story almost as well as he did, even if she'd never have a single memory of any of it.

So, he proceeded to tell her how her father had been kidnapped, how Captain Singh had been seriously injured, how a tsunami was heading for the city, and how the culmination of that all led to her telling him she had feelings for him. She hadn't been able to stop thinking about him, inevitably because she didn't want to.

But she didn't remember that when he replayed that day and the tension of the first go-round was no longer there.

"That day…" she said in response, "when you broke up with Linda and were so excited to go to lunch with me…and you thought…"

"Yeah," he finished, trying to bury that particular memory. He'd fallen flat on his face in his conviction that she was aware of her feelings for him.

"You were so sure."

He tried to laugh it off, but the heat was spreading from his neck across his face and he wondered how smart it was to bring this up now. His good intentions had a tendency to not always pay off.

"Because it had happened. In another version of that day, I'd realized…" She sank onto the park bench just a few feet away from them and he soon joined her. "Wow."

"Yeah," he said again, not knowing what else to say.

She turned her head to look at him, eyes so sad, so guilty.

"I'm sorry, Bear," she said softly. He looked up at her, his eyes searching hers. "I'm sorry I didn't realize it sooner." She paused. "In this timeline," she amended.

He sighed and stuck his hands in his pockets.

"It's probably for the best," he made himself say half-heartedly. "I mean, the first time around I was still with Linda and you were still with Eddie. At least this time we weren't cheating."

She forced a tight smile and nodded, her eyes lazily sinking to her hands loosely holding each other in her lap.

Barry took his hands out of his pockets and placed one of her hands on the side of his face. A soft smile appeared on her face and the expression in her eyes changed. He didn't think he'd ever get used to the sight of her drowning in his eyes, being intoxicated by him. How did one deal with his most precious dream becoming a reality?

"Want to go home?" she asked softly.

He nodded and then smiled. "Yeah."

He'd taken her hand and they'd strolled home. Barry didn't know where he thought the night was going to go. Everything felt so perfect. Anything was possible.

But Joe was home when they returned. They ate dinner together and that was the end of their date.

In retrospect, Barry knew it would've been too soon for them to rush into their first time on their first official date. Not because it never happened amongst couples on occasion – though it never had with him, and he didn't think with her either – but because the emotions tied to Iris, tied to them, were so powerful. It was so much bigger than just two people starting to date after years being just best friends. Barry could feel it in his bones, and not just because he'd been in love with Iris for so long. What they were embarking on was monumental; like Rome if it hadn't fallen, the Titanic if it hadn't sunk, the beauty of nature without pollution. It was destiny, and no one would ever tell him otherwise.

Despite Iris's contemplations on the subject, he wasn't about to share his conviction about them being destined. She wondered about it, thought it might be true, but she didn't want some all-knowing predestination to determine who she was in a relationship with.

So, he kept it to himself for the time being. His only excuse for throwing caution to the wind that first night was that he had just felt swept up in the moment, and he knew Iris had been too. The passion-infused kiss they shared when he left her on her apartment doorstep more than confirmed that fact.

In the next couple weeks, Joe not so subtly suggested Barry get his own place.

"Joe," he'd protested, to which his pseudo-father raised his hands in protest.

"Look, you know I love having you here. You know I do."

Barry had folded his arms across his chest.

"But…I have Wally now, and you and Iris…don't you want a place to just…be together?"

"She's got her place," Barry had defended.

"And how often exactly do you spend a lot of time there together?"

Barry's jaw had dropped and he'd seemingly been unable to find words.

"Uh-huh."

"Joe-"

"You know the reason as well as I do. It's a little weird spending quality time with your girlfriend in the same place she lived with her ex-boyfriend."

Barry had turned away, hand wrapped around the back of his head as he always did when he didn't know what to say and unbearably nervous. Joe had continued.

"I've told her for months that she should move out of that place, but now I know why she didn't."

"She was grieving Eddie," Barry had said, turning back to face him.

"Yeah," he'd allowed, "and she was also starting to think of a future with you."

Barry's heart fell into the pit of his stomach. He wasn't sure if his face had paled or turned red but he assumed the effect was the same according to how Joe was looking at him.

"She might not have been consciously thinking it, but I know her and so I know that she's not moving out of that apartment unless it's into one with you."

Barry had swallowed so hard he was sure Joe had heard him.

The you really think so? hung silently in the air. Joe had only nodded subtly in response – I know so just as evident.

So, the following week Barry found himself an apartment, and after a tearful goodbye, ending on a you ever need me, I'm just a flash away, Barry's smile and Joe's chuckle, Barry left the house he'd lived in for half his life and settled into his new apartment just blocks away from Iris's.

That decision made things escalate quickly. Iris was over all the time. She stopped in the morning for breakfast. They walked to his place together after work. She was there at STAR Labs in times most crucial to The Flash, and then they went out to dinner or they went to his place.

In fact, Iris rarely went to her apartment at all, except to sleep. Sometimes not even that, because she and Barry would stay up so late talking and just being with each other that she fell asleep on the couch. They both would. More often than not, he would fall onto the floor sometime during the night. It wouldn't wake her up, but it would make him carry her to his bed and then take the couch for himself. He yearned to sleep with her through the night, but he wasn't sure if that would lead to impromptu sex and he didn't want it to happen that way. He wanted it to stem from something other than drowsy sleep and uncontainable passion.

But one Saturday after another night of sleep on the couch and her in his bedroom, he found her standing over him at nine in the morning. He was fairly certain she was almost glaring.

"What?" he asked, a half audible squeak slurring out between his lips.

"You slept on the couch again," she accused.

"Yeah…" He rubbed his eyes to get rid of the excess sleep dust.

She kneeled on the floor beside the couch and rested her elbow beside him. Her hand brushed through his mussed hair and her frown turned into a lopsided lovesick concerned smile.

"You can't be getting a good night sleep."

He yawned and turned his face in to her palm.

"I'll get sleep when you go back to your apartment," he said. Belatedly, he wondered if she would take offense to that remark. His eyes opened wide and he sat up straight. "I just meant—"

"No, no, you're right. It's okay, Barry." She chuckled a little and he relaxed. "I haven't been back there in awhile. Not for the night at least. And all my stuff is there. I suppose I could…"

He held his breath, wondering if she was about to suggest moving some of her stuff into his place, but instead a somewhat shy expression crossed her face when she looked back at him.

"How about we go out tonight," she suggested. "And maybe…" she hesitated. "Maybe you can sleep with me tonight."

He could have sworn he stopped breathing. The look in her eyes when she raised her head again was both uncertain and sultry, brave and scared, confident and insecure.

So she wouldn't let her worries consume her, because he knew they were starting to, he pulled her close and kissed her.

"Sounds perfect," he whispered.

When he pulled back, she was smiling so unabashedly the butterflies exploded inside him.

She gathered her things, grabbed a piece of toast and left to change clothes.

That left Barry to sit there and suddenly take in the gravity of the situation he'd just agreed to.

Tonight he was going to have sex with Iris West, the girl of his dreams, the girl he'd waited a lifetime for and who he'd been dating a little over two months.

He suddenly experienced all the emotions that had been so clear in Iris's eyes.

He was nervous as hell. He was also beyond excited. The mix of the two resulted in a cold shower.

…

Iris always dressed to kill, but tonight she went above and beyond Barry's expectation. Her dress was snug and classy, short and with just enough cleavage not to be too revealing. She wore the wedding ring Barry had given her two Christmases ago around her neck and the sparkling earrings he'd surprised her with on her last birthday. Her lips were ruby to match her dress and her heels were higher than Barry had ever seen before.

Honestly, Barry felt underdressed in his tux.

"You look…"

She smiled, which sent his heart into overdrive.

"You're not so bad yourself, Allen," she said and took his hand into the classy joint. A restaurant/club where they danced the night away until Iris felt her legs were going to give out.

When they returned to Barry's apartment, he had pretty much convinced himself he'd be taking the couch again tonight. And if she insisted he sleep in the bed with her, he'd be on his best behavior. It wouldn't be too hard, he decided, since he was equally as exhausted as she seemed to be.

He wasn't disappointed. He'd been working himself up about it all day and was almost relieved by the opportunity to not stress about it for an entire day.

"I'm going to change clothes," she announced when they walked into the apartment, and he wondered when she'd brought clothes over. "I brought some while you were out doing your Flash-thing earlier today." She turned and winked at him then continued on to his bedroom.

He swallowed and nodded, even though he knew she couldn't see him. Then he turned and went into the living room where he spotted a spare key to his apartment sitting on the coffee table. It occurred to him then that she might have had it made herself. Or maybe Joe had taken the liberty. Either way, Iris was invading his space behind his back, and while he knew he should be worried that she was moving faster than he was, he found himself being warmed by it instead.

Iris had said she wanted to see if she had a future with him, but now it looked like she was ensuring she would. Everything he felt, everything that did to him was as hard to explain as his heart beating a mile a minute whenever he sees her smile.

He was loosening his tie and unbuttoning the first couple buttons of his shirt, his jacket and shoes already tossed aside, when Iris walked out of his bedroom.

She was adorned in sheer, silk lingerie that completely stole his breath. He tried to force his mind to remember any sort of vocabulary but it refused to cooperate before she was sitting on his lap kissing her.

His hands smoothed over her back until they rested on her hips and squeezed gently.

"I-Iris," he managed, pulling away for a second, breathing heavy.

"What is it?" she asked, locking his gaze for only a moment before giving him a sultry smile and lowering her lips to his neck where she sucked in his skin in small kisses, all the while unbuttoning his shirt.

"I thought you were tired," he squeaked.

"Tired of standing," she explained, smiling against him. "Tired of being on my feet."

He swallowed again. "Are you sure…"

She stopped her ministrations and met him at eye level.

"Barry, we've held back for two months. I want this to be as perfect as you do. I don't want to screw it up either. But…" She let her finger drag down his chest till she reached his belt buckle. She both saw and heard his sharp intake of breath. "I don't want to wait, Bear. Not anymore. I want this." Both of her hands spread across his chest, moving his shirt to the curves of his shoulders.

He tipped her chin to look up at him. For several long moments he didn't say a word.

"I love you, Iris," he whispered.

Her sultry gaze melted into starry-eyed happiness.

"I love you too, Barry."

Hesitant then, but deciding to push past his nerves, he leaned forward and kissed her. It was gentle at first, then ruthlessly passionate. By the time they had both rid themselves of clothes, he was nearly so caught up in her that he forgot protection.

"Barry," she gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders, and something about the tone of her voice alerted him. He returned moments later and was briefly light-headed by the sight before him.

He started to kneel onto the couch to pick up where they'd left off when the most simple of ideas occurred to him. He held his hand out to her instead, and without question she took it. Then he sped her to his bedroom and held her still, kissing her until her knees almost grew weak out. Then he picked her up and went to the bed, meaning to set her down on it and walk around, but she used unexpected momentum and they fell on it together.

There was no laughter, nothing light-hearted or silly. Nothing dirty either, not this time. They took their time, each kiss, each thrust, each murmur a promise. And after they exhausted themselves, moving in sync and relentlessly against each other, her calling out Barry and then him calling out Iris, in pure ecstasy, Barry collapsed.

Moments later, he moved to sink into the space beside her and covered both of them with the light blankets before tossed to the side. For several long moments they said nothing, their recovering breaths and pounding hearts the only sound in the room. Then, snuggled into the side of him, her hand on his chest, Iris whispered on the sweetest of sighs,

"It's still beating."

She sounded awed, and he smiled, butterflies as fierce as ever, content as he'd never been before. He laid his hand over hers, tucking his thumb along the length of her fingers. Then he turned his head and kissed her forehead.

"For you, Iris," he said. "It beats for you."

…

A/N: Well. I hope that was satisfactory. And I hope, my dear requester, that was not too explicit for you. I admit I did have to employ some restraint. ;)

Happy reviews are love.

(Half-tempted to write a morning-after follow up ...much shorter obvs. Let me know if that would interest any of you. :))