People have been requesting Domestic!Snowbarry. (and this one's happier because the last one was sad)
Set when Barry and Caitlin are already together, the morning after their first night together.
Rated: T
He marvels at how happy she looks as she bustles about his kitchen. Wearing one of his dress shirts-which hangs to her mid-thighs—and with her light brown hair piled up in a messy bun on top of her head, she looks effortlessly beautiful, mostly due to the smile that hasn't left her face since she woke up in his arms.
"Hey, mister, get to work," she says, bumping him playfully with the metal whisk, "If you think for one second that I'm going to cook all this breakfast myself, you're crazy. The only thing I can cook is waffles. From the box." She picks up the waffle mix and glances at the instructions for a moment before cracking two eggs into the mix.
Obediently, Barry moves toward the fridge to get sausage, not taking his eyes off Caitlin. She's humming to herself as she mixes the waffle mix, a smudge of the white powder on her nose. She pauses her humming for a moment to peer into the waffle batter, her brow furrowed as she tries to get all the lumps out.
She feels his eyes on her and looks up at him, smile still radiating off her face, and Barry suddenly wants—needs—to kiss her. He'd kissed her all last night, but he wants to do it again. He wants to do it over and over again and never stop.
"Get going!" she prompts, nodding at the sausages, "Those aren't going to make themselves! And, oh, also, I'm not sure how to work your coffee maker? I dunno, it's just a little confusing…"
He tosses the pack of sausages on the counter and gives her a lopsided grin, even though his heart is still racing from the mere sight and thought of her. "Really? Doctor Caitlin Snow can't work a simple coffee machine?"
"Well, it's not my fault! I don't know why you have to have the most complicated—" she stops talking, because his mouth is on hers, interrupting her as he pushes her against the counter. The bowl of waffle batter clatters forgotten to the floor, splattering white goo everywhere. He hadn't meant to surprise her like that, but his body seemed to take over, not allowing his mind to do any work.
She doesn't care; she kisses him right back, hoisting herself up on the counter to get his mouth at a better angle. He moves closer to her, his tongue wrestling hers inside her mouth, and he feels her head hit the cabinet behind her. "Sorry," he mutters, pulling back a little.
She raises her eyebrows as he does. "Really?" she says, unbuttoning the first button of her shirt, "You're sorry?" Again, Barry marvels at how unbelievably happy her face gets as she looks at him. She unbuttons another button, and takes his wrists in her hands, guiding them up to the rest of the buttons, "Sorry for kissing me or sorry for stopping?" she asks her voice low and mysterious, but also playful. Barry takes a deep breath to stop his racing heart and racing...other region.
Tortuously slowly and deliberately, he unbuttons the next button of her shirt, exposing another couple of inches of skin. "Was last night not enough for you, Doctor Snow?"
She coaxes his own shirt off, tracing her hands down his torso as her right foot wraps around the back of his left knee, pulling him closer, "One night will never be enough for me, Mr. Allen."
"Oh really?" His voice is teasing her, even though he's just as desperate to have her as she is to have him. His hands move to her knees, teasing her again as he slowly traces the inside of her thigh. She lets out a small sigh as his fingers begin to move slowly up her leg, light as a feather, tickling her and causing her to grip the counter with both hands.
His calloused, warm hands graze over her hips and move up the smooth skin of her back, causing her shirt to ride up and expose her legs and stomach. He's happy to find that she's not wearing a bra or any underwear,and he lets his hands move to her upper back, and then to her sides, hovering a moment before coming to a rest on her breasts. His touch is deliberate but light, teasing and tickling the way he had done with her thighs.
Caitlin, breathing rather heavily with that now-familiar smile on her face, closes the space between their lips with another kiss. His hands move to the outside of her shirt as he coaxes yet another button open, his mouth moving slowly down her neck.
"Are we moving to the bedroom or…?" Caitlin mutters, arching her back as Barry's lips suckle her collar bone.
He grunts a reply and hoists her up, turning toward the stairs and praying Joe doesn't come home for a few hours.
When Joe steps in around noon, he finds a mess in the kitchen-the coffee pot is making weird, spitting noises, the refrigerator door had been left open, and there's an overturned bowl of what he assumes used to be waffle batter (it's now more of a sticky, gooey mess) splattered all over the floor. He has a moment of confusion before he hears a thump from upstairs, followed by two voices.
Feeling a little proud that Barry's date with Caitlin obviously went well last night, but mostly embarrassed and shocked and relieved that he didn't actually catch them together, Joe excuses himself from the house, allowing the two lovebirds to have a little privacy.