Lips tenderly welcomed the second kiss, a warm smile gently making its way across them as they pulled away. There came a point in which a person’s kisses became casual; sweet, of course, emotional, especially at the beginning, but eventually that fireworks-in-your-head, bells-in-your-ears magic would wear out and melt away into affectionate familiarity. With Blaine, however, that magic remained ever present, ignited as it had been the very first time, perhaps even more intensely each time. Like a fifteen-year-old being kissed for the first time, each time their lips parted, Barry felt his heart thumping and words running away from his brain, like he no longer knew how to articulate them, at least for the upcoming few seconds.
“You got it.” Even though he had been invited to make himself comfortable, the forensic scientist treated the space about him as respectfully as possible for the sake of not overstepping any unspoken boundaries. While allowing his eyes to roam curiously around the room, he touched nothing besides the remote and the couch he took a seat on. “By the way, I’m lousy at picking movies,” he playfully warned as he flicked through the options, having always passed the burden onto somebody with better taste, usually Cisco. “Unless musicals are an option.” As well as being one of the few things that managed to cheer him up when he was down, musicals were also all he could think about when he was at his happiest. In light of recent events, it seemed appropriate to turn to that genre.
Unable to resist the urge with the caress of Barry’s warm breath against his cheek goading him on, Blaine let his fingertips rest against the curve of the speedster’s jaw. Only to savor the sensation of his fingertips against the pale, bare skin for a beat or two. Once he had his fill–for now–he stepped back and made his way towards the kitchen to fetch the wine he’d momentarily forgot about while getting lost in his favorite shade of green. Completely oblivious to the fact that Barry was walking around his living room like he was inside the Met trying not to destroy everything in his path, Blaine spoke loud enough in hopes he’d hear. “Do you know me at all,” he laughed softly while hovering over a stubborn corkscrew that refused to turn, “You had me at musicals.”
Both brows shot up! Success! The dang thing finally managed to pull the cork out before he resorted to digging the cork out with a freaking knife! How classy would that have been? Carefully gathering the stems of two glasses between the fingers of one hand and carrying the bottle in the other, the singer made his way back to the living room with a still pretty wide, triumphant grin making him a whole lot more doofy looking than he realized. His victory against the wine bottle put a pep in his step right up to the couch where he plopped down next to Barry and bent to set everything on the coffee table. “Let’s watch your favorite. I’m way too curious to see now that you made that confession. If we make it through one? I’ll pick the next. Sound good?” Unable to resist one more kiss, he planted on on Barry’s cheek. Whatever they watched was secondary to him just being happy to spend time with Barry. The movies and wine? They were nice. But nowhere close to how content he was to have Barry here instead of a too quiet, too chilly night alone. “I’m glad you could make it, by the way.. I sort of missed you.”