Friends don't (Snowbarry)

Tiered eye's and Tasty pancakes.

Sunlight is streaming through the miniscule gaps in the blinds, falling in lined patterns against the lids of her still closed eyes when Caitlin wakes up. Warm, curled up and content, she ignores the gathering daylight, pulling up her blankets and snuggling more deeply against the mattress. She's never been one for sleeping in before but there's something about having Barry next to her —with its soft, flannel sheets and heavy comforter—that are making it oh-so tempting to spend the whole day in bed. Still a little drowsy, she mentions as much to him when she notices him stirring.

His laugh draws her eyes open, heavy and sleepy but warm and rumbling against her back. "And here I thought maybe it was me," he teases, trying to sound put out but missing the mark completely (totally unable to hide the happiness and amusement in his words). Knowing the game is lost, he stretches a little, lets the arm around her waist pull her closer and presses a kiss to the back of her neck.

"Doesn't seem like it's bothering you," Caitlin amends, twisting around to her other side so she can take a good look at him. She catches his eyes first, as bright in the morning as ever, and the exchanged gaze drags an easy smile across her lips before she devotes a few moments to appreciating the way the rest of him is sprawled out: one (clothed) shoulder and arm stretched over the blankets, the other still hidden and tracing absent patterns along her hip and side, where it has snuck slightly below her tank top. The space between them, small though it is, provides a view of him, splattered freckles on his neck and lean, well defined musculature that she has spent a few moments joyfully memorizing. All in all, a pretty picture to wake to: Barry Allen all covered in navy blankets and sunbeams.

(He doesn't verbalize it, but the trail of his fingers over her skin, the way his free hand lifts to carefully draw a few curls behind her ears and the slow, sleepy smile spreading across his face say it anyway: he feels exactly the same.)

Realizing they've been silent for a while, caught up in drinking each other in (amazing how they do so, in my opinion not very "Friend" like), Barry whispers a "good morning" and leans forward to give her a kiss (on the forehead, cause that would be cheating on Iris).

Caitlin doesn't hesitate to give him a smile, letting her own fingers move to trail through his mussed up hair when he pulls back. When they part, she's still smiling as she trades back her own "good morning". he chuckles before Barry hooks his leg around her bent knee and tugs her forward—a bit too eagerly, for they end up in a laughing tangle of limbs a second later, Caitlin landing and knocking the air out of Barry's lungs. Thankfully, he's in no hurry to rectify his mistake, tugging her even more securely atop him so that Caitlin has to prop herself on her elbows to meet his gaze.

"You hungry?" He asks from below, surrounding by a curtain of dark curls and thoroughly enjoying the press of her weight against his body and the way the soft material of her pajama pants rubs against his leg due to the fact that his sweats had ridden up.

Still laughing (and thus squirming in the most delightfully distracting way), Caitlin rolls her eyes down at him. "Barry Allen, you are incorrigible," but there's no hint of bite in the words and even if there had been, the laugh she gives him to punctuate the statement would entirely negate it.

"That does not sound anything like a no," he counters, one hand burying itself into her curls to lift her head up so that he can see her. they hold there gaze and Caitlin couldn't help but think that this was all meant to be. Her mind drifted to Iris, it wasn't right to lay her with Iris's husband but it's not like they did anything wrong. There just friends.

His hand still in her hair, legs even more tangled, and chests heaving, he takes another long moment to study the woman above him. She's looking delightfully disheveled, both from the tangibleness and a long, deep night's sleep. He loves this look on her, relaxed and glowing in the morning light, his to see and no one else's (God he was missing out on this everyday).

He also loves that even when she is utterly content, feeling thoroughly cared for (at least, he assumes she feels that way, he certainly does) and peaceful, she is still characteristically difficult and doesn't let him get away with anything because she replies with a very definite "It certainly was a yes, wasn't it" as though the long stares and pause has not the least distracted her.

To an outsider, it might sound a little bitchy but Caitlin knows that Barry will take it for exactly what it's mean to be: a challenge.

"Oh," and he (equally breathtaking with the morning light casting shadows over his cocky, playful grin) takes the bait without hesitation. "and what if i don't want breakfast."

In a flash Barry has used his speed and corresponding momentum to flip their positions: Caitlin's back hits the mattress with a puff of air and she lays laughingly sprawled beneath a very wide-awake Barry. (And if he preens a bit at catching her off guard, well, who can blame him?) "Give it your best shot."

Barry's growling stomach does draw there attention (from the position they were in), Caitlin furrows her eye brows and gives him a look. "Don't think I have to."

__

Caitlin likes the way he looks, standing in her kitchen bleary eyed and bare torso-ed (He got food on his shirt so he made a wise decision to take it off. Not that it's something new, being his Physicist she's seen him shirtless before.), flipping pancakes as the sunlight streams through the blinds, lighting the freckles that dot the canvas of his shoulders like a splatter of luminous connect the dots. She likes the way he looks so natural, moving around with a heavy limed grace that she knows will turn slightly awkward the second he puts a shirt on and steps out the door.

He had chosen pancakes since they have the time to make them and she's 99% sure it has everything to do with the smirk he gets to wear watching her reach for the griddle: she feels the way his emerald eyes rake across the skin she exposes as she stretches on the tips of her toes, grasping for the handle of the flat, square pan. She never bothered with a stool, he offered to help, reaching over her to grab it.

 Inevitably, they get a little distracted after that, Barry's front pressed against Caitlin's back who intern was pressed against the counter top until Barry's stomach clamors so loudly that Caitlin giggles and pushes him away. He pouts and then proceeds to mix and pour and flip (sometimes he sings and looks at her with stars in his eyes and she's too caught up in the moment to even question the look he's giving her). She cuts whatever fruit she has in the fridge and tosses him bites, the tile of her kitchen floor echoing their laughter as he zooms around catching them in a blur of pale skin, comfortable fabric and yellow lightning.

When all is said and done, he'll kick her out of the kitchen, insisting on cleaning up so she can shower and get ready for the day. Caitlin will protest, and collect approximately two dishes, only to find herself whisked from one room into the other, a kiss pressed against her temple as he reminds her how much she likes her typical morning routine and how she won't have time for it if she doesn't get started. Her eyes roll in contrast with the grin sprawled warm across her lips and by the time she's drying her hair he's puttering around outside the door, already having gone home and brushing his teeth and asking about her lunch plans .

It's a lazy, orchestra, he falls back onto the bed, ostensibly to watch the news on the laptop she has propped on her nightstand even though his eyes are more likely to fall on her, putting on her makeup and combing carefully through her curls in the open bathroom door.

When she reaches the point of staring in the mirror to hunt down any imperfections, Barry decides to zoom forward, giving her a hug and tells her she looks perfect (he says it's because he loves the smile that curls along her lips). She believes him anyway, so they grab their things and trail toward the door. Shoes on, ready to face the day, he'll hold back to let her out first and she'll step out to watch the very moment where he transforms from the sweet, sanguinely graceful Barry into the man the rest of the world sees (still sweet, still Barry, but with a little more weight across those freckled shoulders that makes him clumsy and yet sad in a way he's not behind closed doors). It's the tiniest change as he crosses the threshold but she smiles, totally in love with every one of those layers.

................................................. 

I think this chapter was kind of just a dream but i mean it's cute sooo, i'm happy with it. 

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