FAST,

he blinks over towards the other woman, eyebrows raised for a moment. he fights the urge to grin, instead focuses on making a sandwich. bruce’s pantry is overwhelming in everything; full to the brim, almost constantly, variety excessively wide. large enough that barry literally thinks he could live in there some days. he wouldn’t be opposed to it, if he’s entirely honest. “you want a sandwich? or a juice? alfred keeps insisting that i get into them, as though i don’t know already how much i eat, diana,” he sighs, loud and dramatic. it shows he cares, barry thinks. that’s better than nothing. “it’s not my fault… i get low blood sugar.”

“he only won because i tripped,” barry insists, a frown tugging down the corners of his mouth. not that he minds, really. losing to superman is pretty much what any person would dream of—— he can’t say that he’s all too fond of the idea of going to brunch with everyone, though. barry still couldn’t believe that bruce would divulge that information. no such thing as secrets among friends anymore, apparently. “otherwise i would have beat him,” he scruffs his foot against the floor, knows that it’s only a distraction to stop him from getting fidgety. not that he minds, really. “i’ll beat him next time.”

she makes him nervous without trying; something in barry’s chest pounding furiously as he tries to think of something to say. no awkward silences. no long pauses. he doesn’t like social situations, but he… he is always willing to make an exception. she’s quickly become it, but even then, barry can’t stop the feeling and the way that his fingers go tap, tap, tap inside where he’s shoved them in his pockets. it had been an attempt to stop the jitters being obvious – whether it was working, he didn’t quite know. “coffee?” he asks, abrupt even by his own standards. “can i… can i buy you a coffee?”