This vignette is set in-between Chapters 8 and 9 of x-butterflykisses-x 's "Kiss and Resolve". Go read it.
Wally West and Linda Park belong to each other, not to me.
The rosy light of dawn touched his face, waking him. Wally wasn't exactly a morning person, but when he woke up, he was awake – instantly. His eyes would snap open and he'd sit bolt upright, ready to tackle the day, no lounging around. Usually. This morning was different: there was someone in the bed with him – draped over him, actually, which is what prevented him from sitting up. He relaxed back into the pillows and trained his gaze on the woman next to him. Linda. She had thrown a leg across his thighs, and her hip softly pinned his own down into the mattress. One hand was curled possessively around the point of his shoulder, the other lay palm down over his heart. Her face was pressed into his chest and obscured by a tumble of glossy black hair. Taking stock of his limbs, he found one hand resting on the upper swell of her bottom, holding her close; his other arm was thrown wide. Still asleep, her breathing was slow and even, lulling Wally into a state of peaceful contemplation. He gently wove the fingers of his free hand into her tangled, silky mane and sighed contentedly.
When he had first asked her out on their non-date for coffee, he would never have dared to predict he would get this close to Linda Park (at least not unless he had approached her disguised as his alter-ego). Not in the market for anything, Wally smirked to himself. His persistence had paid off, and Linda had grown to care for him. Maybe even loved him. He closed his eyes and recalled last night: the way Linda's fingers wound gently into his hair, the softness of her skin, the way she fiercely clung to him. Her soft gasps still rang in his ears, and he would never forget how she had pressed her face against his throat and sobbed his name in pleasure. Most exhilarating of all, however, had been the look of wide-eyed, amazed adoration she had given him – an expression that until recently had belonged only to the Flash. Fighting the sudden sharp desire to begin the night over again, he pressed his face into her wonderfully scented hair. There's something to be said for waking up slowly.
Linda was definitely not a morning person. She would get out of bed when the alarm sounded, but only with a grudging reluctance. On her days off, she would allow herself the luxury of waking slowly, sometimes sitting up and reading for a bit, or even rolling over and going back to sleep before getting on with her day. No alarm had sounded, but her senses slowly relayed information to her – she was warm (a little too warm, truth be told); she inhaled deeply, the familiar scent of soap and something almost electric, like the ozone-charged air around a waterfall, hit her nose – the Flash? No, her muddled mind corrected her, Wally. Wally West. She mentally shook her head, where did she get these fancies, anyway? She felt Wally's fingers slowly stroking through her hair, and she gave a sleepy murmur of approval, not quite ready to open her eyes yet.
She replayed the previous evening in her mind – Wally's hands tugging at her clothing, his mouth on her lips and throat. He was alabaster-pale, except for the light scattering of freckles over his shoulders, his skin surprisingly delicate and silky under her fingers. He had held her close as they moved together, enthusiastic but gentle and attentive. What she recalled most clearly was his expression. Wally always wore a self-confident grin, sometimes small and unconscious, sometimes blindingly brilliant. But his face had been open, vulnerable, and his gaze had been centred completely on her, not as if nothing else in the world mattered, but as if nothing else even existed. It was a heady feeling, staring into those blue eyes and seeing nothing but adoration there. It would be worthwhile to wake up completely and look into those eyes right now. Probably. She groaned and shifted, her hand blindly brushing across his chest and throat, coming to rest on his stubbly cheek. The hand in her hair paused and slid down to her shoulder.
"Good morning," he said, sounding obscenely awake and alert, and pressed a kiss into her palm.
"Ohhh…Wally, wazzat?" she moved her head just enough so she could blink sleepily at him. The self-satisfied smirk was back on his face (just as she expected), but his eyes were tender and welcoming. An odd, but not unpleasant expression.
The grin widened almost imperceptibly. "I said, good morning, and now you're supposed to agree with me."
Linda's eyes drifted shut, and she let her head drop back down. "I don't know, I'm not awake yet," she mumbled as she pressed a sleepy, lingering kiss on his smooth chest. "But it looks promising."