( mssg » barry | sent ) Okay. I think I followed your chain. You want me to want you to want to come over. Yes? LOL ( mssg » barry | sent ) In that case? I would love for you to know that I want you to want to come over. Because I want you here. Fair enough?
“I really wish I could promise that means I’m not gonna remind you every chance I get but…” Lips pursed in playful regret before he leaned in to steal a second kiss.
“I really wish I could find a tiny reason to complaint but I’m coming up seriously empty-handed,” Blaine hummed before being drawn back into Barry’s gravitational pull. The sense of his own went haywire, world upside down in the best sorts of ways when their lips reconnected for much more than a stolen kiss.
Barry found himself caught between two opposing thoughts; on the one hand, the whole of his body advised him to make the most out of that marvelous sensation that was suddenly flowing through him, and he followed said advice by placing a hand on Blaine’s knee before it absentmindedly made its way up to the middle of his thigh. On the other hand, personal experience couldn’t help reminded him that when something seemed too good to be true, it probably was, that nothing could feel so wonderfully right and not come with a price. Whether he liked it or not, even if this were as dangerous as he paranoiacally feared in the back of his mind, he was beyond any chance of pulling away at that moment. And if he hadn’t been before, he certainly did the moment he heard Blaine whispering his name, triggering something that, if it wasn’t new, then was definitely a dozen times more intense than he had ever felt it. He took advantage of the pause the kiss had taken to trace the shape of Blaine’s lips with his own, reluctant to part from him for longer than an instant. An instant in which, catching the other sneaking a peek through his eyelashes like he was doing himself, he let a swift smile tug at the corner of his mouth.
The ball of his foot pushed the floor to impulse him forward, leaning over Blaine while he leaned against the back of the couch. The little voice in his head that had originally been warning him about the dangers of letting himself go so carelessly faded further and further each passing moment, to the point it was left close to completely silent when Blaine’s hand cupped his chin. He gave in, utterly, absolutely and completely, trusting his parted lips to his will and demand. And he was not disappointed. A second was all it took for him to know he had made the smart choice. The unprecedentedly intense feeling tugged at his chest and down his thorax until settling in the pit of his stomach, inspiring a groan in the back of his throat that responded to Blaine’s and kept on echoing, voicing his desperation for more, which only grew thirstier the more of his mouth he explored. His hand curled around his thigh, pulling him closer by his legs while his other hand lowered from the back of his neck to his shoulder blade, clawing at Blaine’s shirt with the same urgency with which he held onto his.
Feeling Bary and the slight press of his weight as he hovered over him sent all of Blaine’s inner gravity spiraling through his chest until it coiled in his belly. The tug on his thigh sent him reeling and he curved his back just to feel more of Barry’s body and push himself closer. “Barry,” he breathed between their mouths. His grip on Barry’s shirt held tight as his lips were explored with a pair he was quickly becoming unable to get enough of the taste of. Lashes flicked open and a dazed, hazy stare found Barry’s smile and he felt his own lips turn into a lopsided, wet lipped smile in return. This is what the taste of weeks of wondering what this would be like was when he finally had the chance to have it. And oh god, did he WONDER. At severely inappropriate levels and just as inappropriate times. If you considered they kept themselves as friends and you weren’t supposed to think of friends the way his mind would trail off on it’s own and daydream about Barry–Blaine tried to cut out those images. Keep this something neutral. Always failing and always spent breathlessly imagining absolutely nothing neutral especially at night when he was alone. Only to try and brush it off every time they were face to face.
Because he was so used to something like this moment–where the inside of his thigh shifted to press tight against Barry’s hip making Blaine’s eyes roll white before squeezing shut again–quickly becoming something complicated. His hand gave Barry’s shirt a break before he ended up tearing it. The tips of his fingers dipped past the hem instead, touching the sliver of skin that was exposed above Barry’s hipbone. Breathing was impossible as his touch dipped just underneath then corrected itself and grazed along his side and between them across Barry’s pale stomach just past the curve. What he found was velvet flesh that felt too good to not willingly ache to for more to touch, explore, learn. That’s when he decided–with a sweep of his tongue over Barry’s bottom lip and a glance full of blown pupils and want at Barry’s mouth, nose, eyes. If this was going to be complicated after? He didn’t want to think about that anymore. All he wanted to do was sink. His lips traveled to other places, first testing how Barry’s jaw would feel against them and with a trail of kisses and teases of light nips or licks moving along it–Blaine groaned low across the shell of the speedster’s ear fanning out his fingers just below Barry’s navel. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you like this,” he confessed in a whisper, “What your lips would feel like. What you–they would taste like.. You’re beautiful. You know that?”
"Man, it is freezing out there.“ It was weird how one could get
so used to the warmth at home, they’d forget all about the fact
they had been walking out in the streets with everything
covered but the eyes. “Uh, you an hang your coat up there if
you want.” Being known for his tendency to just drop his jacket
wherever the moment he walked through the door, he hardly ever
remembered the hanger on the corner. “Exactly, let the record
reflect I gave you fair warning.” He grinned at his own joke and
shrugged his shoulders. In that weather, everyone around the
city seemed to be getting a cold left and right– not him, of
course, not with his immune system 400 times faster than it had
ever been the first twenty-five years of his life. “I meant you’ll have more nog on that cup than this one,” he then
revealed with a smile, picking up the Rudolph cup once again.
“Hm!” he hummed against the rim as he sipped from it, nodding
his head. “Grandma Esther liked her beverages– spiky,
apparently. Although she was actually my foster dad’s grandma,
I’ve never even met her.” He did, however, benefit from her
recipes Joe had inherited almost his entire life.
Remembering what Blaine had promised to bring along,
enthusiastic like a child who remembered there was still candy
left from the night before, he took the liberty of leaning over
the coffee table, uncovering the plate. “Ooh, these look good,” he
commented as he parted a small piece for himself. “I mean,” He
paused to swallow. “unless I’m sleepwalking again.” He smiled,
more out of embarrassment for the lameness of his joke than
amusement and shook his head. “Relax, I was wide awake.” He
shrugged, his smile fading into a warmer one. “I’m not that…
normal, I guess.” Normally, he wouldn’t mind. Being a meta, after
all, was his favorite thing about himself. But if everything, his
life as the Flash and the burden it implied, were to come to a
pause at night so he could get some sleep like normal people
did– he would have sealed that deal without thinking twice.
“Wow, these are good,” he remarked on a more cheerful note,
helping himself with a second piece. Normally, he would let his
mind slip into that kind of gloomy train of thought, reliving nightmares like he couldn’t help it. Nothing about him
seemed as cheerful as it had once been. That night, however, was
different. He accounted it on the holiday season, but deep down
he knew Blaine was a highly contributing factor to his unusually good mood. “It was nice. Our friends came over, my
foster dad brought his girlfriend… It was a good time.” A
peaceful time, which to them meant a whole lot more than most
people could have realized. “How was yours?”
“You did give me fair warning. So it is duly noted, Sir.” A lively smirk and a wink followed Barry’s pardon from being in too much trouble for giving him Grandma EggNog firewater. Yeah. As sweet as he was? Short of grievous harm or–who knows? burning all his bowties in a fit of rage?–Barry could probably get away with most things when it came to Blaine being bound to forgive him. They might not have known each other for long? But in the short time that Blaine had the fortune to get to know him? Barry was one of those good sorts of people. The ones that come into your life because karma did you a favor and planted someone worth keeping right in your pathway for you to discover. Weather from hell that brought them together aside? He knew he lucked out finding Barry Allen. His life just felt so much warmer when Barry was around. “I think she found the miracle cure for frozen bones. Because two swallows in? The chill from outside has been effectively removed from my veins,” he smiled fondly and moved to take a seat beside Barry. Minutes into his arrival and he could tell that the old saying was right. Like attracts like. It was peaceful here. Comforting. From the smell of Christmas in the air to the left over energetic buzz created by company and people who loved one another–it was simple to relax back and just feel at ease.
An eyebrow quirked up at the sleepwalking comment. “Joking or not? You make a pretty lucid sleepwalker. I’m impressed,” he poked back. “I could’ve used that talent in school. I’d be kind of jealous.” Clamping his mouth shut–Blaine’s gaze turned as warm as his smile. Barry couldn’t have been any cuter than his childish excitement when realizing he had cookies waiting for him. Oh boy–did he just think cute? Yeah, he did. “I like not normal. The best kind of people are the unnormal ones,” catching up to the lighter note–he perked up and took a cookie. “Thanks. An old friend’s recipe. His mother taught it to him when he was little. I got to be one of the privileged few that it was handed down to. Promised to only make them for special occasions. That was the stipulation for such,” he drew out the word with a over serious lowbrow glare, “sacred knowledge.” One bite of the cookie and he agreed. They were good. “I’m glad you had a good time.” Grandma Esther would get a proposal from him if she were here for the next sip when it was mixed with his cookie. “Mine? Mine was quiet. A few phone calls and a whole lot of baking. I volunteered last night at a center downtown for teens that don’t have any homes to go to for Christmas. It was great seeing them happy and dancing. Tonight’s been getting much better. Must be the company. Or the drink? Not sure which one yet but I’ll let you know when I figure it out.” There came that wry grin again. One that broke away into chuckles as he nudged Barry’s shoulder with his own. “This is a great place, by the way.” Uncurling from his spot, he sat his mug on the coffee table before standing up and offering Barry his hand. “Show me your tree? I purposefully went for the whole Charlie Brown theme this year. Yours looks gorgeous from here.”
Barry had always thought of that rainy day as a blessing. He
had his friends who by that point had become like family to him, but there was something entirely different about Blaine,
like the way every room he walked into seemed to get a little
brighter when he did, as did the smile on Barry’s face whenever
he caught sight of him. He must have been just one of those
people, Barry thought, those you only hear about in movies
starring Drew Barrymore. The kind of people that carried that
indescribable quality that had them bring joy and light
everywhere they went, so effortlessly, like they had no idea
they were doing it to begin with. And perhaps that first
impression was in fact correct– but it certainly didn’t explain
why Barry found himself talking about him far more often than
he realized, or why there was a little voice in his head warning
him friends didn’t look at each other like that whenever he got
absentmindedly lost while Blaine was talking, face resting on
his knuckles with a warm smile of awe ghosting over his lips,
most likely resembling the cartoon of a lovestruck forth-grader.
All of that which should have been to the answer to those and so
many other questions Blaine had unknowingly awakened, was
actually the last thing on his mind. Instead, his thoughts were
far more primitive, linked almost exclusively to the way he felt, to the way that felt. The hair on the back of his neck
stood as goosebumps rose all across his skin in response to him
bringing a hand up to his face. Through his veins, blood began
flowing even faster than usual, carrying all the different
chemical reactions that had suddenly been triggered, and he
heard his heart thumping in his ears. It had been a long time
since a kiss had had him feel like that. Intense as the
combination to all of those sensations was, almost overflowing
him, his instinctive response was to want more, a hand rising to
cup the back of Blaine’s neck in an attempt to get him exactly
that. In the process, he felt the tip of his tongue gently brush
against his, and he saw stars.
Describing how every part of his body was focused on this spinning, dizzying, wonderful sensation was impossible. Not without jumbling thoughts that were currently only tethered to one thing. One person. And everything about him was all Blaine wanted to hold onto. Instead? Blaine let go of the instinctual notion he had to piece together some sense in what he was doing before he made a huge error of judgement. Or pinpoint where in this friendship he started to see Barry as much more but dismissed it repeatedly out of fear of damaging something he now valued. Why did he have to think about any of that? All he found himself wanting needing–in what now seemed like a blur of time since maybe they first met–Barry to have more than a tiny taste and for that shift of gravity that seemed to pool in his stomach in the best sort of way? Barry was giving back. “Barry,” a low and wobbly exhale of his name paused the kiss when Barry cupped his neck and sent a shiver down his spine.
Blaine’s eyes lazily opened halfway to savor the sight of someone needing him, craving more just as badly as he was. A clouded glance flicked up towards Barry’s eyes in the realization and then closed again.
Tips of tongues reconnected-a bare graze that was the embodiment of restraint–and Blaine forgot what air was. Spreading fingers over Barry’s cheek and explored along his hairline–Blaine captured Barry’s wrist with the other hand, melting back to rest his shoulders against the back of the sofa and nudged Barry to come along. Could this man be any more beautiful? He’d never agree to it, but he was. His caress over Barry’s temple lowered, curling around the edge of his chin from underneath and gently nudged downwards to open his mouth. Holding on tenderly, Blaine peeked at Barry’s lips. They were wet and open and waiting because he made them that way. The idea made his heart sing. Fingertips turned white against the bones of Barry’s wrist. His restrain broke. His tentative kiss and taste turned much more desperate, deep enough that all of Barry’s mouth was his to explore. And what he found inside was heaven. With his pulse a racing, pounding thrum in his throat, chest, ears–Blaine could only groan and shift his touch from his cheek to his waist where trembling fingers balled up the hem of Barry’s shirt for something to cling to.
Barry frowned slightly after he sipped from the eggnog. It was funny how it wasn’t until after it could no longer make an effect on him that he noticed just how much booze they put into that. He had the feeling Grandma Esther must have been a blast at parties– either that or an utter embarrassment, but ‘a blast’ sounded a tad more respectful to her memory. That particularly trivial train of thought was suddenly punctuated by the knocking on the door. After after saved the thermos back into the fridge again, he carried the two mugs to the living room, trotting to the foot of the stairs to make sure no members from the West family had woken up.
“Hey!” he greeted the other at the door, nodding inside and stepping aside right away to let him in. “Merry Christmas, by the way.” Admittedly, he wished they had been able to do that at his new place downtown rather than the house that served as home for close to his entire family, but he knew how much Joe would appreciate waking up on Christmas morning with all his kids under the same roof– not to mention his place had literally no pieces of furniture in it except for a bed, so having a gathering there of any kind would have been close to depressing. “Okay, so, uh– make yourself at home.” He took a seat on the couch himself, leaning back as he crossed his legs. “Eggnog’s right over there. I actually took a sip from the Rudolf one, so you might wanna use the Santa one instead.”
Spending Christmas alone was depressing no matter how much he tried to pretend that it didn’t bother him in the slightest and he was okay to anyone who might’ve called him. Honestly, today just had him feeling like his stomach might be permanently embedded into the soles of his slippers. Nighttime only made things worse. That post-Christmas day quiet that has people falling asleep with blissfully full stomachs underneath piles of blankets with someone as they watch the city twinkle beyond their window. That was what Christmas meant to Blaine just a couple years back. This year? Christmas was just lonely and the quiet was deafening. Until..
Barry opened the door and invited him in. Suddenly, the chilly night with a dusting of snow felt warm and welcoming. His bones didn’t seem as hollow. An unerasable smile greeted the other. Along with the wrapped plate of cookies he carried in. “Merry Christmas, Barry.” Blaine sat the them on the coffee table then pulled his gloves off and stuffed them in his pocket. “Right. Thanks for the warning. Don’t need to go for Rudolph and catch your cooties,” he crinkled his nose pretending to be grossed out before grinning sheepishly and fetching the Santa cup. “Wow. Tell your Grandma I think by the smell alone one glass might land Santa and the elves in the drunk tank. So,” he took a sip and dear God he was right. Swallowing it down, he blew a breath through puckered lips and quickly took another. Much easier to down the second time and…it was really good. “Are you sure you’re actually up at this hour? I know I asked once already but..normal people are usually in bed by now.. How was your Christmas?”
There was never a day that went by where Blaine didn’t cherish these moments he had with Barry. The ones where they let go and just fell into a laughter so heartfelt that it made Blaine’s stomach ache by the time they settled down. Whether it be through some subtle–or not so subtle–joke, a stupid show they were enjoying together. Tons of reasons. Like, how awkward either one of them could get. For reasons that Blaine didn’t let himself think about for too long–not in front of Barry at least–because of the implications of what feelings stirring inside were that made him fall into bouts of pink cheeks and tongue-tied words.
Why ruin a good thing with complicating it? A chiding he gave himself whenever he got the idea that maybe there was something bigger between them. Something good that was growing into something amazing. Or would if he had the nerve to show it.
This was time something happened. Blaine was on the edge of nearly having to hold his belly until everything changed. The air thickened. His center of gravity went topsy turvy and suddenly was hanging by two strings attached firmly to his entire world and pulled inside a set of green eyes he came to a dead silence staring into. His smile was there, sure. Wobbling but there. He had the same look. Not-strangers suddenly strangers again. And he felt his throat cave and a delightful chill fill his veins at the sight of Barry wetting lips he knew he just got caught staring too long at.
–See me like I’m seeing you. Don’t leave me alone in this.– And when their mouths were so close that he could taste Barry’s breath, nose to nudging back nose? Barry saw him. He knew deep down. No doubts, no fears. Barry sawhim. Toes twitched against the rug–Barry proved it by a press of their mouths together. A palm was fit to a pale cheek, fingers fanned out over skin he’d been aching to touch and feel. Hot and velvet and perfect. Blaine tilted his head, his lips barely parted to let the tip of his tongue taste both of them combined. And the flavor made him shiver. Oh, God. He was falling faster and faster. This time? Sinking was something he welcomed. Nothing else mattered. Not as long as he could stretch this moment out.
Barry was actually glad he finally had an excuse to get out of bed. Few things were as uncomfortable as being in bed knowing for a fact he wouldn’t be getting any sleep, for there would always come a point when everything would bother him; he would either feel too cold or too hot, or couldn’t for the life of him find a position he was finally comfortable with, not to mention it was common knowledge one’s mind took advantage of that kind of opportunities to either remind one of moments they spend every single day of their lives trying to forget, or coming up with life-changing ideas that would disappear at the light of dawn.
He got the eggnog out of the fridge so it wouldn’t be too cold by the time it was served, opening the cabinet to reach for two mugs. “For real?” he sighed, for there were nothing but Christmas-themed mugs as far as the eye could see, all consequence of how oddly excited Joe got when it came to decorating the house for the holidays. Reluctantly, he settled for a Rudolph and a Santa shaped ones and hoped that Blaine would somehow find it quaint.
Blaine stood in front of the mirror adjusting his cardigan and grinning goofily at his reflection. Texting Barry was on a whim–half thinking that the man would be asleep and wake up in the morning wondering if Blaine was crazy for being up this late (on Christmas nonetheless). Or what he got into befriending an insomniac weirdo who thought it was okay to toss someone a random hello past midnight just because he couldn’t sleep. But the slim chance the opposite would happen, the one Blaine hoped for–happened. And after a quiet day of random texts and phone calls that made his apartment feel even emptier–he had somewhere to be and someone waiting for him to get there.
Not wasting any more time–the singer decided that the outfit he threw on (and changed once) was okay for a two in the morning junk food binge visit, grabbed the cookies he baked earlier and dashed out to catch his cab. Giddy energy danced in his eyes the entire trip until the taxi stopped–no doubt to the relief of the driver who had his ear talked off in spite of grunts, hums and nods being the only part of the conversation he added. Mainly, thanks to Blaine not shutting up about how excited he was and ‘I didn’t sound weird–did I? Do you think? I mean–people do that all the time. Not really but–you get my point?’ before a healthy tip was shoved into his hand and Blaine disappeared up the steps practically bouncing on his heels when he came to the door and gave it a knock.
( mssg » blaine | sent ) Trust me, a do-over’s not always as good as it sounds. ( mssg » blaine | sent ) But you’re welcome! ( mssg » blaine | sent ) Merry Christmas, Blaine. I’m pretty looking forward it it too.
( mssg » barry | sent ) Sounds almost like you’re speaking from personal experience. ( mssg » barry | sent ) I don’t see you as the guy who makes enough mistakes to need that many do-over’s. You’re pretty great as far as I can tell. Putting up with me at this hour only solidifies the idea. 🙂 ( mssg » barry | sent ) Got the cookies ready and I look a lot less like it’s 2am and I haven’t slept yet! I’m on my way. See you in twenty?
( mssg » blaine | sent ) In that case, cookies sound great. Cookies, ice cream and eggnog; I’m pretty sure if you asked a doctor what they’d recommend for a sleepless Christmas night, that’d be exactly it. ( mssg » blaine | sent ) Oh! No, yeah, hey! I totally know what you meant. ‘Cause we’re both up and it’s late and we’re gonna stay up, so yeah! ( mssg » blaine | sent ) No, don’t worry about it. The last thing you ever come off as is creepy. ( mssg » blaine | sent ) So I’ll see you in a bit?
( mssg » barry | sent ) I think you’re right. It does sound pretty perfect. ( mssg » barry | sent ) Thank you for the pass you gave me on that. I was borderline considering rebooting my phone in hopes that it might reboot the last five minutes of my life and I’d get a do-over. ( mssg » barry | sent ) Great! Creepy is the last thing I want to be! ( mssg » barry | sent ) I’ll see you soon. Merry Christmas, by the way. And thanks for the soon-to-be-company. I’m really looking forward to it.
pianokeysandbowties 