Written for the coldflashweek2016 prompt 'domestic life'. Short and sweet fluff and romance.

"Hmm … where the hell are you going?" Len grumbles when he feels his boyfriend slink out of his arms and climb out of bed.

"Uh … for a run?" Barry scoffs mildly. "Like I do every morning."

"Why?" Len wakes up slowly, more exhausted than he should be considering his goal for last night. How the heck did the tables turn so badly? Len's the one who's sore all over while Barry looks fresh as a spring chicken – the exact opposite of what Len had planned.

"Well, it's kind of my thing," Barry teases, searching the floor for his discarded underwear. "You know - The Flash? Fastest man alive?"

"I mean, why go for a morning run when you spend the whole day training anyway, goofball?" Len manages to roll onto his side and open his eyes, but beyond that, the universe is asking too much. "Besides, it's your day off."

"Because regardless of whether it's my day off or not, I need to train." Barry finds his underwear and sniffs it, then tosses it aside in favor of a fresh pair. "I have to go faster. You know, to catch the bad guys … like you."

"If you're catching other bad guys the way you caught me, you're gonna have to lock me up, Red, because I'll be back to killin' faster than they can moan your name."

"So, I take it you don't think that sucking guys off in the cells at Iron Heights is a reasonable form of rehabilitation?" Barry throws Len a wink, then goes searching for a pair of reasonably clean sweats.

"It had its time and its place," Len admits. "But seeing as I'm naked in your bed, I'd say that time is now, and that place is here." Len catches Barry's arm when he passes by, dragging him back to where Len's barely moved a foot, but is harder than a rock. "I promised to fuck you till you couldn't walk, Red," he whispers, hand roaming to the waistband of Barry's boxers, fingertips playing at his hips, sliding black cotton down his skin. "If you go for a run, that means I kinda failed."

"Ah, so this is about your ego, old man." Barry squirms at Len's light touch, but doesn't fight to get away. Of course, Barry could just put on a burst of speed and be halfway to Maine in a second if he wanted to.

But in no way does he want to.

"No," Len says, lips brushing Barry's neck as he speaks, his breath tickling the fine hairs on Barry's skin, "it's about keeping my word. And like I've always said, I'm a man of my word."

"If I remember correctly, you said that exact same thing right before you turned against me."

"I was a bastard and a liar," Len says dryly, with what sounds like no shame whatsoever. "I picked and chose the words I kept. But you forgave me."

"I saw the good in you," Barry murmurs, leaning in to Len's mouth, letting each swipe of his boyfriend's tongue pull him farther and farther away from his plans for the day. "I see it more and more every day."

"You lookin' in a lot of mirrors lately, Red?"

"Huh? What does that mean?"

Len runs his nose down Barry's neck and back up again, latching his mouth over the soft skin above Barry's pulse. "Because you are the good in me, Barry. You have been for a long time now."

Barry giggles. "That's corny as all get out. You know that, right?"

"Maybe. Doesn't mean it ain't true. But the real question is … will it get you back in bed?"

Barry extends his neck to the side, exposing more skin, inviting more kisses, and maybe a few bites. "I think …" He rolls Len onto his back and lets Len pull him on top of his body, enjoying every inch of skin against skin as their bodies slide together, fitting one another perfectly in unexpected ways "… I'm already here."