A/N: This feels like the perfect fic to post first on Christmas. I'm glad it was the next one I wrote for my little series. I've been wanting to write a purely cuddly fic for a while, and I really like how this turned out. I hope you enjoy it too! (And ofc, as stated in the summary, this was written for Day 14 of my 25 Days of Westallen Fanfiction event.)
*Many thanks to sendtherain for beta'ing.
*I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended.
She sat there for a long time wondering if she was going to go through with it. She started biting her nails – a terrible habit she'd recently fallen back into. She paced a little, tried and failed at cooking something tasty. She took a shower, got in comfortable clothes. She thought about an article she wanted to write and the shows she could catch up on. She thought about how she should be grateful crime was low today, and that really, with the snow falling light and beautiful the way it was outside, she should just enjoy the winter wonderland outside her window.
But their lives being what they were, Iris' feelings were just enhanced. All the time. Whenever she wasn't occupying herself or speaking to someone or just planning her day. Her mood, her passion, whatever she was most focused on increased tenfold.
And right here, right now, she just plain missed her husband.
She scooched herself enough down the couch so she could lay flat all the way across it. She tucked a pillow under her head and pulled a warm blanket over her body, but it changed nothing. Pillows and blankets were all well and good, but they just didn't compare to a warm body snuggled around you – and not just any body, Barry Allen's body.
The ironic thing here was she wasn't even thinking about sex. She just wanted to cuddle.
Of course, if her husband was here right now, and he wanted sex, it wouldn't take much to convince her. He melted her insides just by looking at her. She knew people at CCPD joked about how whipped he was, how she could get him to do anything. Just say the word, and he'd do it. But they couldn't seem to comprehend that it went both ways.
Barry Allen rarely asked for anything, but he was very handsy and he was very romantic, and he was so genuine about both. His intentions were always pure. So if the moment was upon them, and it could go either way, one look is all it would take for her to do anything he asked. Sometimes he didn't even have to ask. They just knew each other so well that she could almost read his mind. He gave himself away so easily. But if she really felt strongly about something, he had no problem opting for what she wanted to do and enjoying it just as much as if it was his idea. He was just so…
He was such a damn good husband.
"The hell with it."
She reached for her phone before she thought better of it and scrolled her contacts 'til she found his name. She bit her bottom lip, her feet tapping on the far side of the couch, as she waited for him to pick up. Her heart fell into the pit of her stomach when his answering message came on and she heard the beep to leave a message. She debated saying something but hung up instead. He had to be really busy if he wasn't picking up a call from even her.
Just as she was about to toss her phone aside and groan about how much life sucked today without her big, tall, speedster teddy bear there to cuddly with, said phone started to vibrate.
Her eyes widened as she saw the name across the screen. Despite the wave of embarrassment rushing over her, she knew she was going to answer it. She'd been craving the sound of his voice all morning.
"Hey, Babe." She smiled brightly into the phone. "What's up?"
A few beats of silence were all it took for her to realize her mistake.
"You called me."
"Right." She sighed.
"Is everything okay?" he asked worriedly, and she felt terrible.
Here he was so concerned that something had actually gone wrong, and the only actual thing that was wrong was that she wanted her working husband home with her so they could spend time together. And not just some time – the whole rest of the day.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine," she assured, wondering how convincing she sounded. She didn't sound convincing even to her own ears. "I'm sorry I bothered you."
Those were not the right words. Now he had to have alarm bells going off in his ears.
"You never bother me, Iris," he said softly, and she could almost feel his hands grazing her arms, pulling her closer, making her believe she was his first priority no matter what. "Tell me what's up."
She blew out another sigh.
"Nothing's wrong, Barry. I just called to see what you were up to, if you were…busy."
She winced on that last word. Doom was quickly approaching. She was going to tell him, and she wouldn't be able to take it back once she did.
"Busy," he repeated, and her insides screamed.
"Yeah, um, did you have a big workload today? Is it driving you crazy that you can't speed through it all?" She laughed, but it was strained. So terribly strained.
Thankfully he didn't make a point of noticing.
"I actually did speed through most of it," he admitted. "I try not to go too fast, so it doesn't arouse suspicion, but it's painful for me to go as slow as I used to. That's probably not fair, but-"
"No, I get it," she interjected, grateful to have her mind on something other than him being there with her. Hearing him talk about his day was almost just as good. "This is your normal now, and it has its perks."
He laughed offhandedly.
"Yeah, I guess."
"So…big workload? Not so much?" She let the question hang, wondering if she was starting to annoy him. She doubted it. He was probably just curious. But she was sounding a little annoying to herself.
"It was about a medium size," he said slowly. "But like I said, I've finished most of it." He paused a beat. "What are you not telling me, Iris?"
"What?! Nothing!"
Well, that's not suspicious, Iris.
The silence dragged on, and she knew she was the one who was going to have to end it.
She sighed once more, unable to hold it in.
"I just miss you, Barry."
A startled silence, then, "You miss me? You just saw me this morning."
"I know."
"And I'll be home in a few hours."
"I know that too."
More silence. "You're sure nothing happened?"
She groaned. "Nothing happened, Barry, I just- Nevermind. I'll see you later. I'm sorry for- Bye."
"No, wait- Iris-"
But she hung up on him. And she didn't answer his next three calls or respond to his five texts.
If he really wanted to get a hold of me, he'd flash home to see what was up, she thought selfishly, and then hated herself for it.
The next time he called, she picked up.
"Bar-"
"Do you want me to come home early?"
She debated her options, how guilty she felt, but still how much she missed him, how much she wanted to hold him in her arms, breathe in his skin, feel his pulse beneath her fingers, the brush of his lips in her hair. Despite how humiliated she'd felt for trying to stifle down her longing for him, she caved to that desire.
"Yes," she admitted, and his response turned her to goo.
"Why didn't you just say so, Iris?"
"I-"
"I'll be right there," he promised, and all her protests fell silent.
A couple minutes passed, probably enough time for him to convince Singh why he needed to leave early and walk out the door without arousing suspicion.
Then he was in their loft and walking towards her and she was scooching up to her side of the couch to make room for him.
"So, you missed me, huh?" he teased.
"Barry Allen, I swear, if you-"
He leaned across the couch and planted a kiss on her lips. She tried to protest – to what she didn't know – but he kissed her a couple more times and she abandoned any words to indulge in the sensation.
"I missed you, too," he said, finally pulling away a bit.
"Yeah?" she asked, draping her arms around his neck.
"Mhmm," he said, settling himself on the couch and pulling her into his lap. "Got distracted several times today whenever I happened to glance at the photograph of us on my desk and my wedding ring."
She smiled, imagining both instances. Butterflies fluttered wildly inside her.
"Yeah?" She squirmed a little excitedly.
He chuckled, holding her tight.
"Yeah. How about you? What made you miss me so much?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. Just…you not being there. I know it's normal, and I knew you were going to come home before dark, but…I just missed you."
His expression was more somber now when she met his eyes, and she had a feeling that for at least a moment their minds had both gone to that 2024 article.
"How did you cope?" he asked, his voice going raspy.
She needed to lighten the mood, and asap. She didn't like thinking of that future far too close for her own liking. She wanted to enjoy him for the time they had, not worry about what was to come.
"I bit my nails," she said. "And I paced, and I took a shower, and…I tried to cook." He smiled slowly at that one. "It didn't work. You're better than I am."
He laughed. "I'll cook tonight. I promise."
She smiled wryly. "Thanks."
"So, what else?" he pushed.
"What else what?"
"What else made you miss me?"
She sighed and pulled herself closer to him, resting her forehead on the side of his face.
"Iris?"
"I just missed you next to me, holding me, holding my hands, wrapping yourself around me as we cuddle on the couch or in bed or, I don't know, standing by the window or in the kitchen, or-" She paused, surprised to feel tears wetting her eyelashes. "I just missed you, Barry."
He tilted her head up, wiped away the stray tear that managed to make it to her skin.
"You want to cuddle now, Iris?"
Her eyes stayed shut, but she nodded, refusing to let any hesitancy on her part change her mind.
He pressed a soft kiss to the corner of her lips, then adjusted them on the couch so he was spooning her from behind, his arm around her waist, their fingers intertwined, his nose in her hair, his breath on her neck, and a blanket covering their forms as the fire blazed before them.
Iris sighed contentedly and she felt him do the same.
"This is nice," she said, smiling.
She felt safe and warm and loved in his arms. She never wanted to move.
"Best part of my day," he said, and she knew he was telling the truth.
I love my husband, she thought fondly to herself. I love him. I love him. I love him.