The One With Whiskey Eyes || 29 || Sentimental Value
Warnings: None
Words: 2700
Previous || Next
~29~
Barry entered her apartment with the spicy scent of takeout following in his wake, as well as the lingering chill that seemed to bleed from his coat. Even with his hands full, he still greeted her with a kiss on the cheek when she stepped aside to let him in. He placed the food in her kitchen while she locked up behind him.
“How was the time at the station?” he asked once she’d finished her double-check routine. “I wanted to ask you earlier, but everyone was around-”
Iris smiled in assurance and stepped forward to place a hand on his forearm. “Don’t worry about that. It was…long. I never thought I’d have to pull up every detail of my past like that. I’ve spent so long trying to just push it aside, forget about it, I’m surprised how easily it all came back.” She found herself staring absently toward her fridge as she was speaking, remembering the details she’d penned out for the police to use.
Barry came forward to wrap an arm around her shoulders, drawing her in until she was securely tucked into his side. “Hey, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t’ve brought it up.”
Iris shook her head before she turned it, leaning her forehead against his chest as she wrapped an arm around his back. “It gets easier each time, but it’s still such a raw feeling. It was a bit easier when I went last time and Felicia was there, even just to know that someone was there waiting for me.”
His hand, so large against her back, soothingly stroked up and down. Warm and comforting. Safe and secure. She leaned her weight in against him just a bit more, taking in the faded scent of cologne and sweat. It almost drowned out the scent of the food he’d brought, but the spicy aroma was beginning to permeate her small apartment.
It made her stomach clench with hunger.
Pulling back enough to remain pressed bodily against him but to finally look him in the eye, Iris gave a soothing smile. “Let’s eat. Enough about police and crazy pasts.”
Barry’s smile was bright and welcoming. “Yes, Ma’am.”
She collected plates and cups for each of them while he pulled the Styrofoam takeaway containers from the bags he’d brought in. He explained what each dish was as he opened it, warning her which ones were spicy and others sweeter and nuttier. He watched in amusement as she carefully leaned over each of the dishes, smelling them.
He’d gotten way more than the two of them needed, but he wanted to give her the chance to try as many in one go as he could. The lady that had taken his purchase had been more than kind, patiently ringing through everything as he’d stood there staring at the menu. His co-worker had been helpful, actually, and recommended ones that his own girlfriend favoured. Although, she apparently liked her food hot enough to sweat out Satan.
He wasn’t going to tell Iris that.
Iris took a bit of everything, unable to resist wanting to try a bit of each selection, and they had soon moved to sit on her bed—as had become their routine—with their meals sitting on pillows in their laps. Deciding it was safest to use forks instead of the provided chopsticks, they fell into easy conversation about their day as Barry watched Iris’s reactions with each attempt.
“I don’t mind a bit of spice, but that one’s more than I think I can handle,” she commented after trying one of the noddle dishes, reaching for her water to try and dull the sting a bit. Barry laughed before he scooped the remainder of the spicey noodles off of her plate and onto his. Iris just gave him a small, but grateful smile as she continued to sip from her water.
“So, is there anything you don’t like, for future reference? Aside from the spicier variety.”
“Uhm, sushi’s not really my thing, not much for fish in general but anything raw is definitely a no. I don’t have any allergies, that I know of. I hate the taste of milk just on its own, and I’m not a huge fan of sour foods. I am open to at least trying new things once, though.” Iris ducked down to her plate as she took another forkful of noodles, this time one of the sweeter ones, and made a soft humming sound of satisfaction as she chewed. He smiled at the reaction, glad that even just one dish was a win.
He forced his focus away before she caught him watching her tongue swipe the sauce from her finger.
Barry nodded along as she spoke, remembering the conversations they’d had the morning after he had first slept over regarding their coffee preferences and blueberries vs chocolate.
“What about you? Any major culinary dos and don’ts I should know about?”
By the time Barry had finished recounting his meal preferences, which were actually quite similar to hers with the exception of liking spice and loving a glass of milk, they had finished their meal and the plates were sitting in a careful stack at the foot of the bed.
When Barry asked her what book she’d been reading when he called, she gasped suddenly and jumped up from the bed. He jolted slightly at her abrupt movement, the curls of her hair swinging behind her as she scrambled up, and watched as she rushed over to the small collection of books he’d once inspected. She grabbed one sitting right on top of all the others, a bookmark poking out of the top, but also grabbed a plastic bag with her work’s logo on the front.
She deposited the book and the bag onto the bed before picking up their discarded dishes and quickly dumping them in the sink already filled with soapy water. Barry quickly read the title of the book she had, The Martian staring up at him, before she rejoined him. She bounced slightly as she jumped up onto the bed and quickly crossed her legs.
He had taken to stretching out across her bed once they’d finished eating, leaning up on one elbow while his shin nearly brushed her knee.
When Iris reclaimed her spot, her hand fell to rest on his knee for balance and the area bloomed with warmth upon contact. Something so small was able to make his skin flush with the knowledge that she was touching him.
It was simple and casual, but it was something that she would not have done unless she was truly growing comfortable in his presence. Butterflies erupted in his belly at the knowledge; the implication. His love for her grew just a little more in that moment, settling in his core like a familiar, weighted comfort.
“Here,” she declared, offering him the bag. It gave off a distinct rattling sound, like a spray-paint can. “I got this for you. I wanted to thank you for dropping everything to come and get me after the incident at work. I know it was stressful for you as well, and you helped me so much. So, thank you.”
She blushed as she said it, bashful and shy, but anxiously waiting his reaction as he carefully took it from her. “Sweetheart, you didn’t have to get me something for that.”
“I wanted to,” she pressed. “You’ve all been doing so much for me, I feel like I need to return the favour more often. So, I got you this.”
Barry smiled at her simple excitement coupled with her kindness. He sat up to get a better handle on the bag and reached inside without looking. Iris was watching his expression carefully, waiting. From the bag, he withdrew a new, leather-bound sketch book. The weight of the paper was a lighter variety, designed for charcoal, conte and pastels. Accompanying the sketchbook was a can of fixative spray, and a pack of charcoal pencils that came with a knife to sharpen, a sandpaper pad and a kneaded eraser. It was everything he would need to make and preserve a charcoal drawing.
“Iris,” he mumbled in surprise. It was not a cheap amount of art supplies. He was guessing nearly two hundred with the leather-bound book.
“Do you like it? It is something you’ll use? I know that depending on the art the supplies can be very particular but these are our best sell-”
Barry dropped the haul onto the bed between them to catch Iris’s face in his hands, cradling her delicate jaw to pull her in as his lips slanted across hers. She had to catch her balance, her hand bracing her weight at the sudden shift of her bodyweight. One of his hands remained delicately holding her jaw and neck while the other slipped back into her hair and cupped her skull.
Iris, initially caught off guard, relaxed into the kiss and leaned in closer. Her scalp tingled at the feeling of his fingers running along her skin, carding through her hair.
Barry pulled back from the kiss long enough to breathe a quick ‘thank you’ against her lips before he pulled her back in. He was sure he could feel her smiling against his lips now, but he couldn’t bring himself to pull away from her just yet in order to be certain. She could swear her entire body flushed with the desperate way he followed her lips, pulled her in to remove any semblance of distance.
It wouldn’t surprise her if he was able to feel how her skin pebbled, or how her body quaked with a pleasurable shiver.
The crinkle of the plastic wrapping on the items made a faint sound as Barry rose to his knees, the bag sliding off the edge of the bed with a muffled thump. It went ignored. He nearly towered above Iris, even though his hold on her remained gentle—though passionate—even as he bore his weight down against her. The hand she had previously been resting on his knee became a splayed palm against his thigh. It felt like a searing heat penetrating straight through his jeans, even just the knowledge of where she was touching enough to set his heart racing.
“Barry,” she gasped faintly in a moment when they broke to breathe, her free hand lifted to trace cool fingers across his cheek.
His nose traced along hers, nearly cheek to cheek, as he leaned in against her form. Iris settled back easily, welcomingly, until Barry’s body pressed hers down into the mattress with a gentle, controlled weight. He could feel the sharp press of her hip against his, her sturdy ribs supporting his weight as his fingers delved deeper into her hair. She could feel the warm breath he exhaled against her lips a moment before soft skin glided along hers, barely a tease of contact.
“Iris,” he breathed softly, invitingly. A hand slid against her waist, framing the delicate width, and sending a quaking shiver through her form.
She didn’t seem fully cognizant of her actions as her head tipped backward, baring her pale throat, until her head was buried deep in the pillows atop her bed. Barry dipped his focus to the welcoming stretch, pressing his lips to the graceful curve of her throat. The muscles were pulled taut, corded beneath the skin and pressed firm beneath the caress of his mouth.
Like porcelain. White as snow and smooth as silk.
So focused on her neck, her skin and scent reeling him in and holding him fast, he almost jolted in surprise when the soft scratch of her nails met the back of his neck. Starting at the base of his skull and steadily moving downward. Soon, the scratch of her nails was dipping beneath the collar of his shirt and Barry hummed softly against her skin.
Her pulse thrummed beneath his lips, racing.
A sigh was prompted from her when he began massaging her scalp, her hair wrapped securely around his fingers, and her head tipped further into his hold. “Sweetheart.” Iris hummed again, acknowledging him as she continued to revel in his touch. Her own touches continued, gentle, against the back of his neck and along the top of his spine.
Lifting himself up to prop more on his elbows, removing his weight from her body—surprisingly, she’d sustained his bodyweight completely without complaint. Those soft eyes opened at the loss of contact, meeting his eyes as her reddened lips upturned into a serene little smile. Making a minute adjustment to his hold, Barry continued to cradle her head while he stroked his thumbs along the sharp hinges of her jaw.
“I love you,” he whispered. Even though the words had been exchanged between them already, they felt just as heavy and profound as when they’d been uttered under the falling snow. Iris’s small smile bloomed into a look of pure joy, eyes creasing at the corners with the unabashed expression. Barry was helpless against the contagious happiness, a grin taking over before he leaned back down to peck a kiss against her lips.
The kiss was silly in comparison to their previous ones, their shared smiles causing teeth to click together and a giggle to erupt from Iris. Her laughter was enough to shake them slightly, causing the man above her to huff an answering laugh.
“I love you, too, Barry,” she answered happily once he’d departed from her lips once more. “So much,” she added a moment later, softer, as one of her hands came forward to trace along his cheekbone, following the crease of his smile, across his bottom lip. He remained propped above her, leaning on one hip and his elbows, as Iris’s fingertip tickled along his skin.
It was like she was trying to map out his smile, his happiness.
Barry moved to roll off of Iris before he potentially crushed her.
“No,” she jolted suddenly, hands fisting in his shirt.
“Sweetheart, I’m gunna crush you.”
Iris smiled softly as she shook her head. “Stay. I like it…it feels safe. You make me feel safe.” Barry held her gaze, assessing, before he finally gave a faint nod of assent.
The moment lulled and soothed, like being rocked on calm waters. Barry stretched out atop Iris, his arms hooked under her shoulders to hold her slim torso, with his cheek was cushioned on her chest. Even though she was quite thin, he could feel the slight swell of her breast beneath his cheek and fought against the burning flush in his cheeks at the notion. Her thighs came up on either side of his waist, enveloping him in plush warmth. Gentle fingertips continued to soothe and stroke along his back and neck, although the feeling was slightly muted through his shirt.
Once comfortable, Iris started to hum a song that Barry knew was familiar, but he couldn’t seem to place. The humming vibrated through her chest and against his cheek. It was such an addicting feeling that his hands slid from beneath her shoulders to cradle her ribs instead, large hands framing her sides almost entirely. Iris smiled at the enveloping feeling—he boxed her in from all sides, pressing her into the mattress without causing any smothering or claustrophobic sensations to come up.
Continuing to hum, she mindlessly stroked her fingers up and down his back. Occasionally, she lifted her touch enough to scratch fingers along the growing stubble of his hair. Barry seemed to enjoy those moments the most, exhaling in long, deep breaths that she could feel both through her shirt and in the large shift of his torso.
Sleep never quite came, but neither knew how long they laid out on her mattress with Iris’s soft humming to fill the silence of the apartment. Full bellies and sated emotions left them drifting, absorbed in one another. It was a moment neither wanted to break. Nothing pressing needed their attentions; no fathers or work, no phone calls or police matters. Just the two of them in a cozy apartment, enjoying the safe comfort they could provide.
For once, it was just love and acceptance.
Previous || Next
