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Barry's messy when it comes to Iris. He knows this. He doesn't even know how he kept being the fucking Flash so long from her, when it's written all over his messy face that he loves her, he loves her, he loves her.
Barry loves Iris. It's a bit like saying Cisco really loves naming the bad guys, Caitlin always dismisses Star Wars influenced exit plans, and that Joe will still not get the fact that there’s an Earth 2.
He loves her.
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When they first get together, he's nervous. Barry keeps bumping into chairs when he's walking towards her, keeps babbling about something they're working on at STAR Labs, and the only sign that indicates she’s nervous at all is the way she pushes her hair behind her ears. It makes him feel a little better, that he’s not the only one flailing limbs over them.
Sometimes, when they're squished on the couch together watching TV, he'll be really aware of how close she is, how she casually has a hand on his knee and he'll think mayday: this is not fucking casual. This is the world.
See, that’s the thing about dating your best friend—it's...you know. The world and also the worst.
It's like when he runs the speed of light — Cisco with tears in his eyes whenever he does — and the wind's blowing against his face. Time slows down and he feels the Speed Force all around him, and everything's on mute. Being with Iris is like that — slow, steady, home.
But it's also the most scariest thing Barry's ever done, including that time when he ran back 15 years to try and save his mom. Here, he can also equate some parts of dating Iris to fighting King Shark. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. Is this really happening?
This is really happening.
He almost wants to zip to everyone who lives in Central City, say, I'm dating Iris West. Iris WEST. Can you believe? He says that to Cisco at least once a week and Cisco's already thrown half of his gadgets at Barry's head. Barry dodges all of them except the goddamn Weather Wand and it fucking HURTS, CISCO.
So, yeah, never mind. Let's not run and tell the world that a) the best thing in the world has happened to him and b) Iris West belongs to the Flash.
Here he feels flutters. Iris West is dating the Flash.
He tells her that too. You're the Flash's girlfriend, Iris. He cracks the widest grin possible. Iris pinches his chin and says in a voice that he's never heard before, Yeah. The Flash is all mine.
Hers, he thinks. Hers.
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Iris is kind, smart, beautiful, the absolute fucking sun. She’s my sun, he says to Caitlin one day when she’s stitching him up. Cisco snorts and Caitlin doesn’t even look up from what she’s doing when she says, Barry. Can you stop fucking moving. He stills, then thinks of the bright smile she gave him when she made him breakfast that morning. He moves, a tiny thrum of happiness under his skin and Caitlin sighs, throws the needle down, giving up while Cisco laughs.
It’s thoughts like these that keep Barry moving faster than he’s ever been — he grits his teeth against the metahumans because he needs to see Iris again, he runs on water and scales up walls because he wants to kiss her, and he survives fight after fight because he wants to hug Iris till he can’t breathe.
She is the best thing to see when he’s in STAR Labs so he hates himself a lot for never telling Iris he was the Flash so many months ago. He breathes easier because she’s in this with him.
Iris is a force in the lab — she keeps up with the science, way better than Joe, because she goes home and reads about it, comes back the next day and announces, OKAY. I’m caught up. What are we doing to stop this asshole?
She points out flaws in all their plans because Cisco and Barry keep thinking they’re in an action movie, tells everyone to calm down when it’s the bad days, and makes weird connections between metahumans because of her sources.
I know I sound a little creepy, but those two metahumans are married to each other.
Cisco laughs and tries to call them Bonnie and Clyde.
Now that Cisco and Caitlin know that Iris can talk him into anything and from anything — like fighting off Grodd’s visions wasn’t the easiest thing when he did it for her — they get her on the intercom with him. She calms him down when he feels like nothing he’s doing is working, gets him back on his feet when he takes another hit, and tells him once don’t you dare come home broken.
See, here’s the thing. He meant what he said. Without you, there wouldn’t be the Flash. It’s crushed under his heart, this very thought. If he became the Flash without Iris, he doesn’t think he would have helped people as much as he would have.
Barry runs faster knowing she’s got his back in everything he does. Barry runs faster knowing he can go home to her. Barry runs faster because — I love you, Barry. I love you.
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Sex with Iris goes like this:
Barry remembers the first time that he and Iris have sex. He was vibrating so bad that she had to straddle him in the bed to keep him still and even then, his hands couldn’t stop shaking. Barry’s desperate against her body, all his fantasies of Iris as he grew up, never even coming close to the real thing. He’s all slick skin and nervous fingers, and hot breath kisses against her breasts, and tiny whimpers when Iris touches him.
She’s warm and bright and she calls him baby in bed which he thinks is just an Iris thing, but no, it’s an Iris and Barry thing. He asks her when she’s on her knees, sucking him off one day. Iris wipes her mouth and says it’s you. It’s always been you. It makes him feel warm all over his body, and he’s pretty sure his face turns red.
One of Barry’s favorite things to do is eat her out. Obviously. His head between her legs, his mouth pressed against her, as she slowly breathes. She used to never make noise when he first did it, now she’s all Barry Barry BarryBarryBarry. He vibrates his face in tune with his fingers inside her, and she’s covering her mouth with one hand and the other fisted in Barry’s hair. He loves her like this because now she’s the messy one, coming all over his face.
One of Iris’s favorite things to do is ride him. She grabs the back of his head, pulls his hair, and it hurts a little, and then she says, slower, Barry. And it’s painful good, going that slow with him inside her, but feeling her open mouth against his cheek, as she rocks a little forward, makes Barry’s insides white hot and he always ends up sticking his face right between her breasts so he can breathe her lavender smell in as he comes.
Some days, she wants him to just fuck her. It’s almost lazy in the beginning, when he pushes into her, and she holds one of his hands against her neck as he fucks her slowly. His other hand is on her clit, rubbing small circles as she digs her heels into the bed. She comes under Barry’s touch and it makes him go faster.
He thrusts almost wildly, his hand still on her neck, the other going to the headboard, and he says desperately IrisIrisIris, please please can I come please Iris and she says shhh, baby, shhh, yeah you can come, and he leans down and kisses her hard when he does.
Whenever he comes, it’s with her hand against his heart and it feels so fucking good every time.
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Barry recommended journalism class to Iris because he sees the reach she can have. He sees her drive to help people, to dig for the truth, to have everything come to light because she is light defined.
Iris writes about the Flash, about the metahumans, about the bad guys who live in Central City. She writes enough that she’s on people’s radars and it makes him nervous because she writes about the worst kind of people and they know.
But Iris is — Iris is selfless. She throws herself in front of a gun so no one else gets hurt, she volunteers as bait, she runs head first into danger.
Barry shoves his hands in his pockets, says you can’t keep doing this. To me, he wants to add but it’s a selfish thought.
What, you get to save people and I can’t? She throws this at him, a vicious left punch. The only difference between me and you is I don’t have super powers, Barry.
And how does Barry tell her that whenever he runs to where she is, he’s always scared that he’ll be too late. He was late once and he never wants to feel that way again.
I’m not gonna stop, Barry. She says this with a split lip, grin wide because she found the group of kidnapped girls that she wrote article after article about. Barry ran so fast that day he’s reminded of tsunamis and Iris in green.
She’s the strongest person he knows. He knows Iris can handle it, knows that he’ll be there when she needs it, understands completely that this is what she’s meant to do but —
Iris, in her long boots and pretty dress and Disney princess eyes. His chest feels tight with all that she is, and he says, I can’t lose you. I can’t.
Iris puts both of her hands on his face, all softly, No no no, Barry. You won’t. I’m here. I’m not lost. I got you. How does Barry tell her that everything she stands for is everything he will try to save?
Where would I go that I wouldn't take you she says, a small smile on her face, her fingers wrapped in his hair.
His voice cracks on her name, and he surges forward to engulf her in his arms, his face buried in her shoulder. Don’t you know. I love you the best.
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Barry’s this messy thing with Iris. He doesn’t mean to be, when he blurts out I love you almost every day or when he tries to serenade her any available chance he gets.
But, see, Iris is messy in love with him too. She tackles him first thing when he gets back from defeating a metahuman, she writes articles about the Flash with a certain pride, and at any given point in time, she will be holding his hand. Like Barry doesn’t always grab hers first.
It’s this hum of electricity between them that never dulls. It’s how Barry feels every time he runs, the crack of lightening giving away to this feeling of never ending awe. He gets to be the fastest man alive and be with Iris Motherfucking West?
Look. Barry runs fast but —
Iris is the only one in the world he’d slow down for.