It's the middle of the night when Iris sighs, turning on her side, wishing she could sleep. Barry's hand is on her bare hip and he's asleep on her shoulder, but when she moves he begins to stir, and inwardly Iris groans, then holds her breath as she waits for Barry to wake up.

"Hey," he says sleepily.

"Hey yourself," she says, forcing a smile.

"What's up?"

Iris shakes her head. "It's nothing. Go back to sleep."

"Iris…"

"Barry -"

"... you can talk to me. You know that, right?"

"Like you did with me?" Iris says, and her tone is light but there's no denying the slight hurt in her voice.

"I'm sorry," he says immediately. Barry sits up, then, pulling the comforter up to his waist and draping it over Iris's shoulders. "Are you - mad at me?"

"No," she says honestly. "I'm just - hurt. That you kept this to yourself for a whole month without telling anyone. Without telling me. And I'm not mad at you, Barry, I just - wish for your sake, not mine, that you told me. Or someone. Because I can see, Bear, that it's been eating you up inside."

"And now it's eating you up too," Barry adds. She sighs, puts her hand on Barry's bare chest. He closes his eyes at her touch, then covers her hand with his own. She watches as he lifts her hand to lips and presses a kiss on her knuckles. "But I meant what I said. If it's the last thing I ever do, I'll protect you. And if we need to we'll bring in Ollie and Team Arrow again. And Stein and Jax and the rest of the Legends. I'll do whatever it takes to save you, Iris. I hope you know that."

"I do," Iris says softly. "And I love you for it, Barry, I do. But that doesn't… stop me being scared."

"It's okay to be scared. I would be too."

"Barry Allen, superhero of my heart, scared?" she teases. Barry just smiles, though, and cradles her cheek with his hand. "I didn't think that was possible."

"Well, it's like you told me. A little fear can be a healthy thing. Take that time we were on Joe's porch, for example."

Iris raises her eyebrows. "You mean our first kiss?"

He chuckles lightly. "Yeah."

"You were scared?"

"I was about to kiss the most beautiful girl in the world for the first time. Of course I was scared."

Iris sighs. There's still something about the way Barry comes out with things like that, completely spontaneously, that makes her heart skip a beat. She reaches up, hand on the back of his neck, and kisses him. When she pulls away she just looks up at him, and eventually he says, a smile on his lips, "What?"

"Nothing," she says. "I just - Barry, I love you."

He kisses her again, for longer this time. When they break apart, though, there's a look in his eyes that she can't for the life of her ignore.

"What is it?" she asks.

"I - in the future, that's the last thing you tell me. That you love me."

Iris shakes her head. "No. That's what happens in the possibility of the future that you saw. It doesn't mean it's going to happen."

"Right," Barry says, but somehow he doesn't look convinced.

"Can I - can I tell you something?" she says suddenly.

"Yeah."

"Do you remember going to prom?"

Barry nods. "How could I forget? One of the best nights of my life."

'Mine too. I'm glad I went with you. Even if it was… just as friends."

"Best friends," Barry corrects.

"Best friends," Iris repeats, nodding. "Though for the record - there was nothing platonic about that tux."

"I was just about to say," Barry says with a laugh, "there was nothing platonic about that dress either."

Iris laughs too. "I'm sure I've still got it lying around somewhere."

"I remember you acting really weird a few days before, though. I kept thinking you were mad at me. Or that you were going to tell me you didn't want to go with me anymore."

"No, I wasn't mad at you," she says. "I - actually, I never told you this, but I found…" She trails off, though, and doesn't quite complete her sentence, and Barry seems to sense her unease when he runs his fingers through her hair.

"Hey," he says softly, "you don't have to tell me. Not if you don't want to."

"It's okay," Iris assures him. "I - when I was sixteen I found a lump in my breast. And I got really worried and I thought it had to be cancer. And for about two weeks I thought, honest to God, that I was going to die."

"Oh my God," Barry whispers. "Iris, I - I had no idea."

"I didn't tell you because I didn't want to worry you," she says. "And then I was given the all clear. It was just a cyst. And I was fine. But those two weeks… made me think about what I had to live for."

"You had everything to live for. Actually," he amends, "you still do."

"But just like then… I feel like I need to, I don't know. Live my life to the fullest. Not take any chances."

"I get that."

She sits up, now, and the comforter falls away. "Which is why I'm glad I have you, Barry Allen."

"You can have me," Barry says. "For as long and as many times as you want."

And there's something about the way he gazes at her, like she's his everything, that makes her kiss him. It's different this time, though - that much she can tell, from him cupping her breast with his palm. She moans needingly when he pulls away, but then he ducks his head to kiss his way down her neck, her collarbone, kissing a line between her breasts before his tongue darts out to her nipple. Iris exhales sharply, back automatically arching against his mouth.

Her fingers thread through his hair, and when she has a good hold of his head she pulls him up for another kiss. Barry kisses her back, harder, while his knee nudges apart her legs a little so he's able to stroke gently at her opening.

Iris groans, then, right into Barry's mouth, but he doesn't stop what he's doing with his fingers. Two of them slide inside her, familiar territory now - he knows her weak spots now, where she's most sensitive, and she can feel the ache of arousal slowly unfurl between her legs as Barry's fingers inch inside her, And it's easier in a way, for her to be caught up in the wonderful feeling of Barry caressing her hot wet centre, than to be worrying about Savitar and what he might do to her in the future.

She closes her eyes, delighting in the hardness she rocks her hips against. She reaches down, wraps her hand around him, then pushes at his shoulders so she's on top of him. "Come inside me," she says softly.

When their eyes meet Iris can see arousal in Barry's, and all that does is turn her on more. His hand stills inside her, and then he withdraws obediently. She sinks onto him, slowly, tortuously, and it takes a moment for her to get used to him like this, but after several moments in which she wiggles her hips, she's comfortable, and her hands go on his chest as they move together, in tandem.

She lowers her mouth to his, kissing him, and their lips crush together in a searing kiss that leaves Iris breathless. She pulls away, forehead still resting on Barry's.

"You're close," she murmurs.

"So are you," he replies. They move again, Iris anchoring Barry into place with her knees, and Barry's hand fists into her hair, making her groan. When she comes it's at the same time as Barry, whose eyes scrunch shut as he whispers Iris's name under his breath like a prayer.

Panting, she rolls off him, going back to her side of the bed. Iris holds him close, though, arm wrapped around his waist and her head on his shoulder.

"Thank you," Barry says.

She quirks her eyebrow, amused. "What for?"

"For talking to me. I know… it's not easy."

"It's not," she agrees. "But for what it's worth… I'm here for you if you need someone to lean on. You know that, right?"

"Yeah, I do," Barry says softly. "And I love you for it."

"I love you too."

This time, when Iris closes her eyes later, she dreams of their childhood and prom and her best friend as they watched the stars.