Cisco rang the doorbell, and his phone buzzed. It's unlocked.
He tried the knob, and the door opened. He looked around her living room. Empty. Okay, what happened next was either going to be very sexy or very horror-movie. "Caitlin," he called out.
"In here," she called out in return, from the direction of her bedroom.
Hopefully that left out horror movie.
He padded through her living room and down the hallway. "What's the big - " He stopped dead in her doorway, all the air leaving his body in a high pitched whistle like a teakettle coming to boil.
She smiled at him, biting her lip. "Happy birthday."
He gulped for oxygen. "Holy shit. You - that - holy shit!"
She was stretched out on her bed, wearing a perfect replica of Princess Leia's gold metal bikini from Return of the Jedi. She looked like half his adolescent wet dreams, come to life. He blinked several times, expecting her to disappear, and then pinched himself. No. Nope. His girlfriend was still right there, with her hair all up in that braid ponytail and the long fabric panels tangled around her amazing legs.
"Caitlin?" he squeaked.
"You like it?"
"This is the hottest, sweetest, nerdiest thing anybody has ever done for me and you're a goddess."
She blushed, laughing. "You said you, uh, really liked this moment the last time we had a classic trilogy marathon."
"Uh, yeah, I'm pretty sure that bikini is the reason I started puberty, right there. Can I, um - ?" He held up his phone.
She looked suddenly stern and several of Cisco's reasonably important neurons exploded, because stern Caitlin was always sort of a turn-on and stern Caitlin plus Princess Leia bikini? Oh my god. "Swear to me that they will never, ever, in any way, leave your phone."
He pressed a hand to his thudding heart. "May my rendering software get infected with the world's worst virus if anybody but the two of us ever see these."
"Okay." She lay back, stretching her arms over her head in a pose that was pure sci-fi cheesecake.
He only put her through three different positions before he tossed the phone aside and climbed onto the bed with her. "This is amazing and I love you and wow," he said, punctuating each statement with a kiss. "And my birthday's not even until next week."
She combed her fingers through his hair, tucking it behind his ear. "I know, but Iris is throwing that big party and I figured we'd want to just take our time with this scenario."
He ran his fingertips over the fabric still tangled between her legs, and let his hand come to rest on the side of her knee. "This is an awesome costume. Where'd you get it?"
"Online. I've got the website saved if we want to rent it again."
He tilted his head. "Are you really comfortable in that? Because it kind of looks like it pinches."
Her face crumpled. "Oh my god, so much, please get this off me."
He laughed and said, "Awwww," and started untying the string strap from its loop on the right side.
She gaped at what he was doing. "How did you figure that out? It took me twenty minutes and a YouTube video to put this top on without it falling off again."
"The amount of time I spent thinking about taking this bikini off someone, anyone, I could probably undo it in my sleep." He pulled the string free and rubbed his thumb along the red mark it had left on her collarbone. "Oh, baby. For me?"
"You liked it."
"I really, really did. But this?" He unwrapped the string, pulling it free of the loops in the back, and smiled at the deep sigh she let out as the bra loosened. "I like this better."
"Oh, me too," she moaned, peeling it off herself and massaging the red marks it left. "I really don't think they sent me the right cup size."
Okay, this? Topless beautiful girlfriend in half a slave Leia costume, rubbing her breasts? Yep, it was settled, he was gonna die happy.
She caught his eye, paused, and cupped her breasts more deliberately. He made a happy noise, and she grinned. "See. That. That right there. That's why."
He kissed her smile, then dipped his head to brush his lips over a red patch on the inside curve of her breast. "You know what? For your birthday, I'll be that dude from Outlander."
"Sporran and all?"
"It doesn't even work without the sporran," he said, although he was seriously going to have to Google what a sporran actually was. Hopefully some kind of Ye Olde underwear. He'd heard things about kilts.
"Done. Now get the rest of this off me."
"On it. So on it."
FINIS