It's a little after ten p.m. when Iris walks up the street to the Wests' house and opens the door. The streetlamp flickers a little behind her, and the sky is clear save for a thin sheet of cloud that half-conceals the moon. She shuts the door carefully behind her. She wants to surprise Barry – she knows her dad isn't in (she just saw him working late at the precinct) and Wally's out with Jesse, she's pretty sure.

She drops her bag on the couch and is halfway up the stairs, about to call Barry's name, when –

He groans.

Iris's eyes widen and she freezes on the spot, suddenly unable to move from where she's standing on the middle step. She closes her eyes, and instantly in her mind's eye she can see Barry on his bed, hand in his pants. She jumps and realises what she just pictured, then mentally chastises herself.

You're going to be together soon, she tells herself. You've already told him how you feel.

But they're not together. Not yet. Not officially.

Still, she doesn't move from where she's standing, instead sitting on the stair, listening carefully. He's gone quiet now, and she wonders briefly if maybe he heard her. But just as she makes to get to her feet to leave, he groans again, in time with the creak of the bed and the moan of the bedsprings, and this time she can hear, in the barest whisper – "Iris."

Something in her stirs at that, deep in her groin. She listens more closely, and he says her name again – Iris – loud and clear, like the heavenly refrain of a prayer.

She thinks, now, of how hard he must be, and just the thought of that sends a wave of arousal through her, rippling down her spine. Iris moves so she's more comfortable, parts her legs a little, just as Barry moans once more. Her hand ghosts on her thigh, fingers splaying, sending an hot thrum of anticipation straight to her groin. She reaches up, then, into her shirt, feeling her nipples pebble against her fingers under her bra. She groans softly, and it hits her all at once, just as Barry sighs contentedly, how much she wishes the hand that's touching her is Barry's.

And then she can't take it any longer: she slides her fingers under her skirt and into her panties.

She's wet, wetter than she thought, and she sighs softly in relief when fingers reach her dripping centre and some of the arousal is satiated by her own touch.

Iris hasn't done this in a while. She hasn't really felt the need to, to be honest, but now desire fills her to her core and makes it hard for her to think straight – so much so that she has to hold onto the stairwell for a moment to steady herself. She aches for him, the throb between her legs almost painful now.

Then she closes her eyes, picturing Barry in her mind, in time with what she can still hear. She thinks of his hand wrapped around his length, whispering Iris's name, and Iris whispers Barry's as she touches herself, fingers curling slowly inside her. Her clitoris is swollen, she can feel that much, and when she presses down on her favourite spot – the easiest way to get herself off – she tries not to gasp, biting her lip, and then the bed creaks again and she knows he's close.

She urges herself on, arching her back, wanting to come at the same time as him, just as Barry sighs and says again – "God, Iris."

"Barry," she whispers back, and she thanks the stars that she's sitting down because her knees would have buckled at this point otherwise.

"Iris –" And then he comes with a loud gasp and Iris can see it, in her head, Barry coming messily all over his hand, his eyes closed, still reverently whispering her name. Iris's fingers works faster, harder, and seconds later she's coming too, muffling the sound of her orgasm by covering her mouth with her free hand. Moving her hand away, she exhales softly, trying not to make too much noise, then leans her head against the stairwell.

"Barry," she says under her breath once more.

They're at Barry's new place, in his bed, when she tells him.

"Wait, so, hold on," Barry says, lifting his eyebrows in surprise, and Iris just reaches up to touch his bare chest. "You're telling me that you heard me that night – that you were there – and you didn't do anything?"

"I mean, that's not strictly true," Iris says, smiling, remembering the exhilaration of the first orgasm she'd had in ages.

"But you just – left?"

"We weren't together," she explains patiently. "It would have been… weird."

"Why didn't you tell me sooner, though?" Barry says, and he doesn't sound hurt exactly, more – disappointed.

Iris just laughs, though. "I'm telling you now," she says teasingly, "but it doesn't mean I didn't want you back then. I did."

"Oh yeah?" Barry murmurs, and his hand goes up to her hair, stroking it, before he kisses her.

"Yeah. Just like I want you now."

"How much?" he asks softly, his hand trailing down her bare hip and down her thigh. Iris catches his hand with her own, guides it to her wet centre.

"That much," she whispers back. Barry just smiles, runs his finger along her inner thigh and then edges just inside her. "Mmmm."

He kisses his way down her abdomen, tongue flicking out against the soft flesh of her middle until he reaches her hip. Then he moves further down, kissing up her thigh, then pressing a kiss on her entrance. But then to her surprise he looks up in askance.

"Can you –" Barry starts to say, but he breaks off, and his cheeks are flushed when he looks away and then meets her eyes again.

"Can I what?" says Iris with a smile.

Barry tries again, more bravely this time. "Can you – show me? You know… what you like?"

"You want me to –"

"It's fine," Barry cuts across her hastily. "Forget I asked –"

"No, Barry, it's okay," she tells him. "I – I'm just surprised."

"Why are you surprised?"

"I guess I just didn't think you'd get off on that."

Barry just laughs, though, and his grip tightens around her thigh. "Of course I would."

Iris reaches down, pressing just the pad of her finger against herself. Barry still sprawled between her legs and is watching intently, and after a moment his hand closes around her wrist.

Then Iris slides her fingers inside and gasps, and Barry's still watching her hungrily, hand still enclosing her arm.

"For the record," she says, "I haven't needed to do this for ages."

"Really?"

"When I have a boyfriend with superpowers who goes down on me on a regular basis – really, Flash."

As if on cue, his grip loosens on her wrist and he drops another kiss on her thigh.

Iris smiles. "See what I mean?" Her fingers inch up inside her, going in circles, and Iris lies back, enjoying this, enjoying the look on Barry's face whenever she makes a sound.

"You're close," Barry says after a few moments, and he's right – that much Iris can tell from the way her walls close on the two fingers she has inside. Her toes curl and her free hand goes to Barry's jaw, caressing it, feeling his smile beneath her palm.

"I love you," she says under her breath as she inches up a little more with her fingers, hitting her clitoris, and she closes her eyes, now, concentrating. When she comes it's with a sigh of unhurried, contented pleasure, and as she withdraws her hand Barry snatches it up and immediately sucks her fingers, and damn if that doesn't totally do it for her too.

He moves up her, so their pelvises are aligned, and he kisses her, ready to be inside her, but then Iris pushes at his shoulders, flips them over so she's on top of him, now, and she straddles him, knees anchoring him into place on either side of his waist. They've never done this before, either, but Barry doesn't exactly look like he's complaining.

"You okay?" she asks.

"Y-yeah," he says, and Iris must not look convinced because moments later his hand is on the back of her neck and Barry's pulling her down to him for a kiss. "I love you too," he says.

Iris smiles, takes a deep breath, then slides onto him, and she groans softly when she feels him inside her. They move together, Iris wiggling her hips a little to get more comfortable, and it takes a moment, but then Barry's hands go up to her hair, tangling through it, and she can't help but bury her face into his neck as he thrusts into her.

Then Barry's hands frame her face, making her look up at him, and she raises her eyebrows. "What? Why are you staring at me like that?"

"Nothing. Just… you're really beautiful."

She kind of doubts it – her hair after all is probably a mess and she can feel the sweat on her face that probably makes her look anything but. And yet when she looks into Barry's eyes there's something about the way they light up as they survey her that makes her think otherwise.

"So are you," she tells him with a smile. Then she gasps as he hits a particularly sensitive spot, and she ducks her head to land a kiss on his neck. It surprises her therefore when he lifts her face to his once more.

"I want to look at you when I –"

He breaks off, not quite able to complete his sentence, but Iris gets it; she tightens her thighs around Barry's waist and moves her hair out of the way as she reaches down to kiss him. And when she comes, it's at the same time as him and she's looking right into Barry's eyes and saying his name. She rolls off him, spent, still panting, and Barry turns on his side and reaches out to cup the smooth curve of her breast.

"I love you," he says again.

"I know," Iris replies and they both laugh.

"Really, though. I – you're everything I've ever wanted," Barry tells her, moving his hand down to her hip, "and having you… makes me the luckiest guy in the multiverse."

"Wow," says Iris softly. "That's… hard to top."

He laughs and kisses her and there's something lazy, languid, indolent, about the way their lips touch that tugs at Iris's heartstrings.

"You don't have to. I just… wanted to let you know. How much you mean to me. How much you've always meant to me."

Iris puts her hand on Barry's bare chest. "You mean the world to me too."

"And, uh, thank you."

"For what?"

Barry smiles sheepishly. "You know what."

"Oh." A mischievous look enters her eyes. "Well, if you want to thank me, Barry, you know what you can do for me, right?"

It takes him a moment to catch on to what she means.

"Oh."

She leans forward, kisses him, taking his hand and guiding it between his legs.

"Your turn, Flash."