Chapter Text
March 2020 was a wild time. COVID-19 was in the news for weeks prior, but most people never expected things would get this bad. Well, maybe Caitlin had seen it coming. Her anxiety levels had been pretty high the last few weeks. Iris initially chalked it up to her roommate’s usual anxiety. It wasn’t until Barry had started saying things like, “They told us at work that it isn’t a pandemic yet, but if you look at how many countries it’s spread to, it’s the definition of a pandemic.”
She mentioned Barry’s point to Mason the next day at work. “Start taking your laptop home at night,” her boss suggested.
Sure enough, the following week everyone at CCPN was told to work from home if possible. Even some CCPD staff were working from home, Barry included. He took home some case files and lab equipment, recreating most of his CSI lab in his room.
Cisco could pretty much do his job on his computer, and had often worked from home before the pandemic. He was thrilled that now he didn’t have to argue to do it more often.
Of course, Cailtin had to go into the hospital. She started taking double-shifts and isolating in her room whenever she was home. “We need to take every precaution,” she explained seriously to her roommates. No one disagreed. They set up a cleaning schedule, and made sure to vacate the kitchen and living room when Caitlin needed to eat.
A couple of weeks into quarantine, the novelty was starting to wear off. There were reports that this could go on for a year or two. “Barry,” Iris said tearfully one night. “I don’t think I can do this for two years.”
He just wrapped his arms around her and said, “I know. We’ll just take it one day at a time. That’s all we can do.”
Even though the four friends were sharing the same apartment, everything felt different. With Caitlin gone or isolating most of the time, they never saw her. Cisco had purchased a new video game on his computer and had been barring himself in his room. ‘Family’ dinner was a thing of the past, as was movie night or Friday night drinks.
Most evenings, it was just Barry and Iris hanging out. Sometimes Cisco would join, but on more than one occasion he’d mumbled something about not wanting to be a third wheel and made himself scarce. Third wheel, Iris had scoffed internally. What is he talking about?
One evening, after Barry and Iris had finished working in their own rooms, they made some dinner together and decided to watch a show. In some ways, it reminded her of when they still lived at her dad’s. Only her dad wasn’t around constantly.
Iris pulled up Netflix on the TV. They’d been running out of things to watch. The trailer for Bridgerton played automatically. She let it play through, even though she knew it probably wouldn’t be Barry’s cup of tea.
“You want to watch this?” He suggested amicably, bringing over two glasses of wine and some popcorn.
Iris looked at him with a small smile. “You don’t mind?”
“Sure,” he said with a shrug. “I’m game for whatever.”
He flopped down in the corner of the soft, sunken, second-hand sectional that took up most of the room. They’d found it with Caitlin and Cisco by a dumpster outside a fancy condo a few streets over just after they’d first leased the apartment. It was a golden find, one that added considerable comfort and class to the shared apartment of the four twenty-somethings.
Of course, that was long before the pandemic. Long before it would have been too risky to just take something from lord knows where that belonged to lord knows who.
The corner seat quickly became the prime spot they all argued over. The L section had the footrest, which made it the comfiest spot. A time-sharing agreement was put in place so that they all got a turn on a rotating basis, but that seemed to have gone out the window with quarantine.
“Hey,” Iris protested, after clicking play on the show. “You sat there last night.”
Barry stuck his bottom lip out in a mock pout, before stubbornly sinking down further into the spot and putting his feet up. “But I’m already so comfy,” he sulked.
Iris found she had to look away from him. Quarantine must have been getting to her, because the way he was splayed out on the couch in his sweatpants and the S.T.A.R. Labs sweater Cisco had swiped for him from work was doing something to her.
The truth was that lately she’d been having distinctly impure thoughts about her oldest and best friend. She was trying not to admit it, but seeing Barry in sweatpants all the time was making her flustered.
Maybe it was the fact that she was pretty sure he had taken to going commando, given the way the soft cotton fabric fell around his package. Hey, it’s not like she meant to look. It was just hard when the damn thing was staring her in the face all the time. And whenever she did happen to glance in that general direction, this strange wave of heat washed over her.
She was trying not to investigate these fleeting feelings too much. She knew she shouldn’t be looking at Barry’s goods. Still, she found herself needing to work one out on more than one occasion after they’d spent too much time together.
She tried to chalk it up to the fact that neither of them could date anymore. Iris had been single since she and Eddie had broken up months ago. And while she usually kept tabs on her dating app, she’d stopped looking at it since the pandemic began. She was just sexually frustrated. That’s why Barry’s untended quarantine hair made her think of sex.
Perhaps the most irksome thing of all was that Barry knew what he was doing, giving her that pout, as he sank further into the corner spot.
“Fine,” she sighed. “But I get it for the next two nights.”
He grinned triumphantly.
Iris had half a mind to smack the smile off of his face. She scowled playfully, then grabbed her wine before sinking into the spot next to him. She sipped deeply, the tarte liquid satisfying on her tongue. It wasn’t anything particularly fancy, but now that they were working adults they’d moved on from cheap beer and hard liquor.
“If you’re going to sulk about it, I can move,” Barry offered after a minute.
“No, no,” Iris replied, pretending not to care. “You’re already settled.”
Out of the corner of her eye she could feel him surveying her, trying to figure out if she was really upset or not. “We could always share,” he suggested lightly.
Iris looked over at the innocent expression on his face as he sat up a little. Was he suggesting that they cuddle? She got her answer as Barry spread his legs and extended his arms towards her, wordlessly suggesting that she sit in front of him.
Goddammit, Barry Allen, Iris thought. If it wasn’t for how snuggly he looked in his sweatpants, she wasn’t even sure she would be considering it. But before she knew what she was doing, she was climbing in between his legs and resting her back against his chest.
His arms folded instinctually around her stomach, and she placed her hands tentatively on top of his while they watched the Bridgerton family get ready for Daphne’s presentation to the Queen.
This is fine, Iris thought as his cheek rested against her temple. Surprisingly normal. Except of course, for her heart racing in her chest, and how warm Barry felt against her back, or how good he smelled.
Her breathing was just starting to even out when suddenly they were faced with the eldest Bridgerton brother’s bare backside as he pinned his lover against a tree. Iris froze for a moment. She knew this was a romance show, she just didn’t realize how much skin they would be seeing.
She giggled nervously to cover her discomfort, and felt Barry smile in reply as his cheek moved against her temple. He shifted slightly under her and Iris was grateful for the moment to be focusing on something other than the screen. Thankfully, the scene didn’t last too long, and they appeared to have passed the worst of it as the plot progressed.
Little did she know, that was only the beginning of the steamy times ahead.
A quarter of an hour later, as they were faced with yet another romp between Anthony and Siena, Iris wondered if it was weird that she and Barry were watching this show together. In all of their years of friendship, and the hundreds of movies they’d watched together, Iris could think of very few that were labelled ‘romance’. It was like an unspoken agreement: that was a genre they didn’t watch together. Iris had always assumed it was because Barry wasn’t interested. But now that she was leaning into his chest and feeling how warm and nice he felt against her, she wondered if that was really the reason.
Come to think of it, that time that they’d watched Titantic as kids had been pretty awkward. But wasn’t it Barry whose eyes had misted over when Rose realized that Jack was gone?
She breathed in deeply and tried to steady herself. It’s just a show, she told herself. And it’s just Barry .
As if in reply, his arms tightened around her, pulling her further back against him.
After a few episodes, Iris found herself dozing. It was so comfortable and warm in Barry’s arms, that she almost couldn’t help but fall asleep. A little while later, she was vaguely aware of Barry reaching for the controller to pause the show. He scooped her up in his arms and carried her down the hall to her room.
He placed her gently on her bed, pulled the covers over her and tucked her in. He must have thought she was fast asleep, because he stroked her cheek with a thumb, then kissed her forehead. “G’night, Iris,” he whispered.
She hummed softly in reply as he stood, turned off the lights and shut the door behind him as he left her sleeping.
*
The following evening, as Barry took the last bite from his dinner, he turned to Iris and asked, “You want to watch something tonight?”
“Sure,” Iris replied, taking both of their empty plates from the little table in the breakfast nook and heading for the sink. “More Bridgerton or something else?”
Her tone suggested that she was fully expecting him to say ‘something else’. But Barry hadn’t minded the period drama. In a strange way, it was nice to watch a love story with Iris. Truth be told, all of this quarantining together was only heightening his everlasting crush on her. Okay, so, crush was an oversimplification. Perhaps ‘undying love’ was a better term.
He’d learned over the years to keep that undying love in check. But something about being stuck together and having no place to go was driving him crazy. Maybe it was the fact that Iris, like everyone else, had taken to wearing sweatpants day in and day out. Something about her in soft pants just looked so snuggly. He’d happily give her a good snuggle, if he only got the chance. In fact, he’d managed to get some snuggles in yesterday when they’d started Bridgerton. It was a pretty smooth move, if he did say so himself, suggesting to share the corner spot on the sofa. He hadn’t thought she’d actually take him up on it. If he’d known it was that easy, he would have suggested it a long time ago.
He had a feeling that the choice of show made Iris a little more willing to cuddle, so he didn’t mind watching more. In fact, he couldn’t wait.
“Bridgerton’s fine,” he said nonchalantly. “On one condition.” He smirked teasingly at her.
“All right, what?” Iris giggled back, looking up at him as she washed their plates and set them in the drying rack.
He grabbed a towel and picked up a plate. “That you share the corner spot, again.”
She eyed him with an unrecognizable glint. “Okay,” she replied. “Deal.”
But just as she said so, Cisco emerged from his room and headed straight for the PS4.
“Hey man, we were going to watch a show,” Barry said indignantly as their other roommate plunked down in front of the living room TV. Irrationally, Barry felt like Cisco might as well have been walking in on a date with Iris.
“You two had the TV last night,” Cisco rebuked. “I’m supposed to play Fortnite with some buddies. You can watch your show in one of your rooms.”
Barry rolled his eyes as Cisco put on his headset and flopped down on the couch.
“My room?” Iris suggested softly.
Something about the way she said it sounded superbly sexy to his ears.
“Uh, yeah,” Barry replied. “Probably for the best… half of the lab is in my room.”
Iris nodded with a smile.
He followed her down the hall to her room. Before he passed through the door, he habitually reached up to grab the top of the door frame with his hands and hung there for a moment. Did he imagine it, or did Iris’ eyes trail to his exposed navel? He’d been doing lots of crunches recently. He wondered if she noticed.
She turned towards her desk and went to grab her laptop. Barry flopped down on her twin-sized bed. When Iris turned around again, she eyed him with one raised eyebrow. “Ahem,” she voiced, pretending to be perturbed.
“What?” He asked, doing his best to bat his eyelashes innocently.
“Is there room for me on that bed, or is all 6”1 of you just going to take it up?”
He chuckled at the back-handed compliment and sat up against her headboard, adjusting the pillows behind his back. He knew it was presumptuous of him to be making himself at home on her bed like this, but lately he’d been getting the impression that Iris didn’t mind.
“You said you’d share your spot,” he reminded her. He spread his legs and held his arms out towards her, just like he’d done yesterday on the couch, and hoped to God that she wouldn’t shoot him down.
A cheeky sideways grin appeared on Iris’ face. “That agreement was for the corner spot on the sofa,” she reminded him. But even as she said this, she set the laptop on her bedside table then made herself at home in front of Barry. He smiled quietly to himself as he wrapped his arms around her and she leaned back against his chest.
For real, he wished he’d tried this years ago.
“Are you cold?” Iris asked as she settled against him.
“I’m okay,” he answered.
“I’m a little cold,” she replied, reaching forward for the throw blanket at the foot of the bed and pulling it up over their legs. He let her get comfortable, then reached for the laptop and handed it to her. She took it, set it on her lap and queued up their show.
It was harder to focus tonight. Yesterday, Barry followed the plot pretty well. But something about moving to Iris’ bedroom had him distracted. Not to mention how warm Iris was, or how soft she felt under his hands. Almost without noticing, he started to rub his thumb against her belly. She replied with a soft murmur and sank further against him, letting her head rest against his collarbone.
It was so comfortable, holding her like this. His chest was brimming with contentment. She was so warm and good in his hands, and she smelled amazing. The soft skin of her neck was so tantalizing before him. If he bent his head just a little, he could kiss her there. But he wasn’t sure if that’s what she wanted. She didn’t seem to mind the way his thumb rubbed against her tummy, though, so he kept doing it.
*
Iris was distracted. She’d stopped concentrating on the show about a half hour ago, instead focusing on the gentle rhythm of Barry’s ribcage expanding and contracting against her back, and the gentle stroke of his thumb over her belly button.
They’d been tactile in the past: long hugs and brief touches. This was different. This was the same touch, over and over, beneath a warm blanket, in the safety of her room. There was no threat of interruptions from their roommates or her dad. It was just the two of them.
Relaxed, she sighed. What she didn’t realize was that the sound of that sigh escaped her like a soft moan.
Barry paused, his hands releasing from her torso.
Oh no, Iris thought. I freaked him out. He was just being tactile and I made a sex noise!
“You okay?” He asked softly.
“Yeah,” she replied breathlessly. “‘M good.”
“K,” he answered, his warm breath fanning against her neck. She wondered what it would feel like if he kissed her neck. She bet it would be nice. Wait — why was she even thinking about that? About Barry kissing her neck?
She tried to shove the feeling down deep, but then his hands were returning to her stomach, effortlessly finding the gap between her t-shirt and the waistband of her sweatpants, his fingers grazing the bare skin there ever so slowly.
Iris stilled, her heart pounding in her chest. She couldn’t tell if he’d even meant to touch her beneath her clothes. Was Barry putting his hand down her pants? She hoped so.
God where was that even coming from? Since when did she even want her best friend’s hand in her pants?
His fingers inched a little further under her waistband. It was just enough to tell her that it was on purpose. Then he paused, pressing his fingers gently into her skin. She could feel the rhythm of his heartbeat through the pads of his fingers. It was warm and soothing to have his hands on her like this. She leaned into him a little more, and he took her weight, resting back against the pillows and the headboard.
*
Barry wasn’t sure at first if Iris had even noticed the way his thumb had been caressing her, but then she’d let out this noise . It was enough to make years of burying his feelings for her fly out the window, enough to turn him on and make him hard.
He needed a moment. He let go of her, trying to gather his senses. “You okay?” he asked, hoping that he didn’t sound too wrecked.
“Yeah,” she replied. “‘M good.”
“K,” he managed. The thing was, he was having these thoughts… thoughts he knew he shouldn’t be having: like sliding his hand beneath the waistband of her sweatpants, and reaching down, down until he found her clit. Would she stop him if he did?
Barry clutched at her again, letting his left hand slide into the gap between her shirt and sweatpants. His middle and ring finger seemed to find their way just below her waistband. When she didn’t say anything, he inched his hand further forward. His heart thumped in his chest at the realization that she wasn’t wearing any underwear. The thought sent a fresh pulse of blood through his quickly hardening cock.
Iris definitely would have noticed what he was doing by now, so he waited to see if she would object. He expected her to laugh and shrug away from him saying, “Barry, what are you doing?” But she didn’t.
He curled the tips of his fingers and dragged them along the skin just above her pelvis, caressing back and forth, just enjoying the feel of her skin. “Is this okay?” He whispered in her ear.
“Yeah,” Iris replied. She sounded as breathless as he felt.
His heart raced in excitement. Iris was letting him touch her. She might even let him touch her there. He became even more excited as Iris shifted, pushing the laptop off of her and setting it on the mattress. It was a subtle sign that she was ready for more. They quickly forgot all about the show, but it played on in the background.
Barry’s fingers continued to graze back and forth, inching further with every stroke, reaching a soft patch of fuzz that felt neatly tended. He kept things slow, partially because he was afraid to scare her, partially because he wanted to enjoy every moment, and partially because he wanted to tease her. He marvelled when she tilted her hips towards his hand, a silent plea for him to touch her most intimate places.
*
Ever so slowly, Barry’s warm hand migrated down, down, down. Iris squirmed in excitement and anticipation, parting her legs for what she was sure was about to come next.
She was trying not to think about the fact that it was Barry who was touching her like this. At the same time, whenever her mind registered that it was him, her body responded unexpectedly with a hot wetness pooling at her center.
He’d been teasing and testing for long enough. She needed contact . Finally, the tips of his fingers dragged over the top of her mound. His middle finger slipped between her folds and came to rest over the nub of her clit, holding her gently but firmly, pausing as they breathed in tandem. They were ragged, heavy breaths, Barry’s mouth hot against her ear. She shivered at the intensity.
Oh God, she thought as the heat continued to pool in her center. Barry is touching me.
“Bear,” she whined softly. She didn’t know what she wanted to say to him, only that she needed to say his name.
He kept his hand steady, holding her clit with a single finger, seemingly waiting to see if she would say anything else. When she didn’t, he adjusted his wrist so that he could reach her better. His finger slid forward, then back, the gentle friction enough to wring a small, high ahh from her.
Barry sighed into her ear, and pulled his knees up around her, his pelvis tilting up against her. It was the first time she noticed the hard rod pressing into her backside. It was shocking to her, somehow. Despite the covert glances she’d been stealing of his package lately, it was another thing entirely to actually feel Barry’s penis. Perhaps still more shocking was just how much of it there was. She never would have guessed that her nerdy best friend was so well endowed.
*
Barry felt like he could die, he was so happy. Iris was letting him touch her. Her clit was warm beneath the pad of his fingers, and he could already feel how wet she was. He felt like a starving man who’d stumbled across a feast. He knew he needed to take it slow, but part of him wanted to devour her. He was so happy he could cry.
The warmth of her body in his arms enticed him to explore further. He slipped his hand further along her folds, stroking along one side. He couldn’t help it, he had to kiss her. He latched onto her earlobe with his lips, his tongue darting out as he sucked at her neck, just below her ear. She writhed in his arms, making these small noises that were driving him crazy.
She turned into his kisses, and he managed to catch her mouth in his. It was hot and messy, his tongue meeting hers with all flare and no finesse. It took his brain a good few minutes to realize that he was kissing Iris. When their lips parted, he tongued along her neck, humming in pleasure at the taste of her soft skin in his mouth.
With his hands, he was trying desperately to take it slow, to savour everything. He kept stroking slowly along her folds: one side, then the other, avoiding her center. He’d save that for later. “You’re so wet, Iris,” he whispered in her ear.
She keened, her hips rocking up towards his hand, seeking more contact from him. He wasn’t ready to give it just yet. He wanted to play with her all night until she was a shivering mess. Then, if she let him, he’d play with her again.
Her bum rocked against his pelvis, stimulating his already hard cock. It was so sexy to know that neither of them were wearing any underwear; that he could pull her pants down, then his, and his cock would be rubbing against her bare ass. But he didn’t. He didn’t want to scare her off. For now, he just enjoyed discovering her wetness with his fingers and the way she was sighing and moaning in his arms.
He kept sucking at her neck, feeling the pulse of her jugular in the sweet spot that made her moan, kept stealing kisses when she’d let him, kept tangling their tongues together, kept stroking at her folds. Her trembling hands came up to clutch at his knees. She dug her thumbs into the inside of his thigh, causing this throaty noise to escape his mouth.
His fingers delved a little deeper into her folds, teasing at the edge of her entrance. It was so wet there, a mixture of her juices and sweat from the heat of both of them.
“Hmm, Barry,” Iris moaned.
“Like that?” He whispered.
“Yeah,” she answered, her whole body shifting against him. “More,” she begged.
The blood was rushing through his ears. He was half out of his mind with desire. He slipped his middle finger into her entrance, muttering, “Ah, fuck,” as he savoured the heat of her around him. “You feel so good.”
She moaned a little louder, as he kissed her ear and cheek.
Barry slipped his ring finger inside of her, too, eliciting another ahh… from Iris.
She was so god damn beautiful with her eyes squeezed shut and her mouth hanging opening in pleasure. He had to keep himself in check not to pound in and out of her with his fingers. Somehow, he managed to keep enough presence of mind to tease her, to stroke her slowly and steadily with his fingers, the palm of his hand teasing her clit as he massaged back and forth. He curled his fingers inside of her, enjoying how plush she felt and wanting to bring her to the edge.
Iris’ hips writhed around his hand. She keened rhythmically, gentle oohh’s falling from her lips at steady intervals until she hummed, “Mmm... fuck, Barry.”
“Yeah,” he answered, his hands quickening at the sound of her declarations. She was so deliciously warm and wet. God , he couldn’t wait to taste her one day. He prayed she’d let him.
He slowed his movements, teasing her again, pressing into her as far as he could go, dragging his fingers out slowly, then inching back inside of her. He continued on like that, letting her hips roll against his hand, mesmerized by her rhythm.
“Oohh, if you keep going like that,” Iris moaned, “I’m going to cum.”
“Yeah, fuck,” he exclaimed softly, his pace quickening again. “I wanna make you cum, Iris,” he told her, licking a stripe up her neck and rocking his fingers a little faster. “Let me make you cum,” he chanted in her ear, “I’ll make you cum like this every day... Just wanna fucking touch you til you cum, baby... Cum on my fingers.... That’s it baby, yeah. Cum.”
Barry threaded his other hand up under her shirt and grabbed her breast, her taut nipple ready to be pinched and squeezed as he ran his hands over her. He was so hard. Her body was all his for the pleasuring in that moment and he never wanted it to end. Then again, he wanted her to cum so hard she saw stars.
*
Iris was overwhelmed by the things Barry was saying to her, the way he was touching her, teasing her, by the way her body was on fire at the feel of his fingers inside of her.
Her hips snapped back and forth against his movements. She let her hands dig into his thighs as she edged on the precipice of bliss.
“I’ll make you cum like this every day,” he was saying. Fuck. Did he actually mean that? “Just wanna fucking touch you til you cum, baby.”
Something electric pulsed through her as he called her baby. Never in a million years did she ever think that Barry, her sweet, nerdy best friend, would call her baby. But oh lord, did it ever sound right. She wanted to be his baby.
She felt like putty in his hands, and the surprising thing was, she didn’t mind at all . She would happily submit to his ministrations if the way he was touching her was anything to go by. Good lord, he could have her any time he wanted.
“Cum on my fingers,” he whispered hotly in her ear.
Her hips shook violently. Iris reached a hand up and around his neck, caressing him, threading her fingers up into his hair and tugging.
“That’s it baby,” he urged. “Yeah. Cum.”
His free hand reached up under her shirt and captured her breast, squeezing then tweaking her nipple. It was the last thing she needed. Iris’ whole body seized and she cried out as her orgasm ripped through her, pulsating in pounding waves, rolling through her body from her center to her toes. Barry’s hands stroked her slowly through it as he chanted, “Yeah, aw Iris... fuck,” in her ear.
She panted, trying desperately to catch her breath as her body slowly came down from the high.
Gently, Barry pulled his hand from her.
She rolled over between his legs to face him. He looked just as wrecked as she felt, his cheeks flushed, his hair a mess, his lips bright pink. Fuck , she thought, as it dawned on her. Barry Allen looks like sex.
“What —” she panted. “What was that?” As if she didn’t already know.
His eyes examined her intently. She noticed how blown his pupils were. Then, he did something that shocked her: he sucked the fingers that had been inside of her into his mouth.
The heat was returning between Iris’ legs.
“Are you high?” She asked. “Please don’t tell me you were smoking Cisco’s weed again.”
He shook his head with a laugh. “Stone cold sober,” he answered seriously, before nudging her nose with his.
His lips locked onto hers and their tongues found each other again, the same hot, sloppy kisses they’d traded earlier. Iris threaded her hands through his hair and pulled him on top of her. She couldn’t stop kissing him.
“What are we doing?” She gasped as she came up for air. His lips were on her neck now, as he threaded a hand beneath her bum and pulled her pelvis against his. He thrust into her, rocking his package against her hip bone through their sweatpants.
“Well, right now I’m trying to make you come again,” he said huskily, still sucking at her neck.
“Do you need to…” her hands migrated down towards his pants, but he grabbed them and pinned them over her head.
“I just want to focus on you,” he said earnestly, rutting against her again.
Iris found she couldn’t argue. They’d figure it out later. She leaned her head back against the pillow and let him work.