Iris supposes they're lucky they managed to make it to the bedroom, let alone the bed after she had unceremoniously shoved Barry against the apartment door the instant he closed it behind him. As she lunges for the buttons on his shirt, she wonders if perhaps the crown of fastest should go to her for the way she consistently manages to catch The Flash himself off-guard.
Except Barry then speeds her down the hallway and plops her onto the mattress easily, forcing her to acknowledge reality again, and the fact that, well, he's fast.
Fast, that is, until his lips trace a painfully slow path over her neck, down her chest, and across her stomach before they tease the skin at the hem of her panties.
"Barry, get on with it," she hisses, shimmying her body further back along the bed in anticipation.
"Walk a mile in my shoes and maybe learn what real patience is?" Barry quips, surfacing. "More like run a mile in my shoes," he contemplates. "Do you have any idea what it feels like to be a beat ahead, all the time?"
"I'm starting to," she warns through gritted teeth, partly because it's true, but more so to coerce him to make better use of his mouth.
Instead of taking a hint to shut up, Barry continues with utter sobriety: "Well now you know…"
"For a speedster bemoaning the woes of being faster than the rest of the population, you are REMARKABLY slow," she groans to herself as he rambles on.
"….this is why I hang out with Wally so much-"
"Barry!" she interrupts, her head jerking up to stare down at him. "I'm lying half-naked in a bed, desperate and ready to go, and you choose this moment of all possible moments to discuss how much you would rather be around MY BROTHER?"
"You're right," he admits sheepishly, seeming to come to his senses at last. "I'm sorry."
Finally, she thinks, falling back against the pillows with a huff, bracing herself for the blissful touch of his tongue. She closes her eyes while he peels her panties off, sensing him shift downward again. He settles his head near her thighs when-
She hears him take a swift, sharp intake of breath.
Her eyes pop open.
"What?" Iris asks, suddenly concerned.
"Nothing," he muses. "You're just-really wet."
She sits up incredulously, in disbelief that she's actually hearing this from Barry.
"And?" she presses, eyes flashing dangerously. "Do I need to give you a Gynecology 101 lesson here?"
"No, no, I was just taken aback that's all. And…kind of flattered." He doesn't even attempt to disguise the humor in his voice.
"Wipe that smirk off of your face," she glares.
That elicits a chuckle from him. "Probably not the only thing I'll be wiping off of my face after this…"
"Barry, please stop stalling!" she pleads, hating herself for resorting to begging.
"Hold on," he commands seriously. "I don't even know if I should be bragging or if I should be concerned, like medically speaking, because you've never looked like this before…"
"BARRY SHUTUP!"
"Okay, okay," he concedes, bending over, his warm breath expelling against her. "For the record, you owe me new sheets," he jokes, before burying his face between her legs.