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Iris is sitting on a suitcase outside the door of the apartment when Barry gets back from his final class of the day.
She's on the phone but smiles in that way that almost always, despite his newfound confidence, makes him trip over his own feet.
He'd been a bit eager when she'd approached him and Cisco where they'd been eating lunch on one of the benches outside the student center.
She had barely gotten the words out before he blurted, "You could stay with us?"
Cisco made a noise of protest, pausing with his sandwich halfway to his mouth. "Oh she can?"
"She can sleep in my room," Barry lifted his shoulders in a shrug, pretending not to notice the oh Barry look in her eyes. It would always be followed up with you're the best brother ever and he didn't have time for that.
"Okay--but where will you sleep?" Cisco had asked, glance switching between the two of them unsubtly.
"...in my room?"
If Caitlin had been there, Barry knows they would've exchanged worried glances that he would've definitely ignored, especially for the way Iris beamed at him.
He's wary as he approaches her now and she says, "Speak of the devil. My savior's just arrived," to the person on the phone. It's undoubtedly a frustrated Felicity, whose boyfriend has taken advantage of the girls' apartment being fumigated and the conveniently long weekend by convincing her to let them spend the time with her mother. Despite his steely exterior, Oliver still managed to have a hard time telling Donna Smoak no.
When Iris stands to meet him, Barry eyes the amount of luggage surrounding her and feels a deep seated feeling of regret.
"For real?" He asks, patting his pockets for his keys, "Are you moving in?"
Iris looks around him and shrugs, a faux innocence in her face that Barry recognizes from years of being entranced and fooled by it. "Well, I didn't know what to pack. So I think I grabbed everything out of my closet."
"It's for a day or two, Iris."
"Actually just a day. Two nights. Tonight. Tomorrow. I can go back Thursday."
"Which brings up the point of why you've got so many things."
"Are you really mad...? Or --I don't know, Barry. It's like I can't even tell with you anymore."
Barry gets the door open, finally, and gestures for Iris to enter. "I'm not mad. Why would I be mad? Cisco, though. He's got a system. I mean--I tried to make him breakfast once and he threatened to kick me out."
Iris rolls her eyes, looking more amused than affronted as she rolls her suitcase into the door and lets it fall purposefully to the side, "Cisco will just have to get over it."
"It's your funeral." Barry grabs the other two bags she'd left sitting outside, lifting them clumsily onto both shoulders, and follows her into the apartment.
She hums, ignoring him dutifully and tosses her jacket onto the back of the couch. "I'm tired and I want to take a nap in your giant bed."
Barry laughs and sets the bags neatly beside the door to get rid of his own.
"Nap with me?" Iris says, pulling on Barry's arm.
He gets tangled in the strap of his shoulder bag and says, "Hang on a second," releasing a muted giggle that he's never heard himself make ever in his life and untangles himself.
The moment he's free, Iris tangles their fingers together with a grin and starts to pull, leading them back to his room. He really wishes she knew just what she does to him. He'd really like to exist like a proper human being one of these days.
In his room, Iris shuts the door and slips off her shoes, prompting Barry to do the same. His room is kind of a mess, clothes on the floor after he'd sped through his closet and hamper on a hunt looking for his hoodie that morning. There's a pile of books placed just randomly enough next to his bed for it not to be an accident, and his desk is a right cluttered mess with a bunch of tangled cords dangling off the edge.
Iris doesn't seem to mind, though, she never does, just climbs into Barry's unmade bed and spreads her limbs out like she's making a snow angel. "Mmm," she groans happily, "I've never felt anything like it."
God, he thinks, I'm in love.
"It's all right," He says aloud. He considers taking off his hoodie, but doesn't, instead gently pushing Iris over on the mattress and climbing in bed beside her.
"You don't deserve this bed." Iris says, rolling over onto her side to face him.
He definitely doesn't turn his head or move an inch. "I don't deserve a lot of things according to you."
"You don't! But this bed! I would treat this bed with the respect it deserves. I'd give it what it wants."
"Yeah?" Barry says, he leans over to his bedside table and grabs the remote to his Bluetooth speaker. "And what would that be?"
"I wouldn't say it's 'all right' first of all. And I wouldn't leave--" She grunts, disgusted, and lifts her hips and pulls a roll of socks out from underneath her. "dirty socks in it. Come on, Barry."
"That's because you're like, not human." He says, navigating his phone to Spotify and starting up a playlist and turning the volume down low.
"Anyway," the tone of her voice sounds teasing and Barry knows he's in trouble, "I would treat this bed to a real good fuck once in awhile."
Barry snorts out a laugh and turns his head, "What makes you think I don't?"
"Don't be silly, Barry. We both know you're getting about as much as I am."
"I don't know how much you're getting." Barry can feel his body threatening to vibrate, his heart tempted to burst through his chest.
"The same as you." Iris responds. She still manages to look innocent.
"I'm--I'm not sure if I should be offended? You're kind of offending yourself."
"I'm speaking the truth." Iris says, and looks put out, shaking her head slightly in disappointment, "You should really give this bed what it needs, Barry Allen."
He wonders briefly if he'll make it through another second of this before he decides to hightail it the hell out of his room. "I'll uh," he says, "I'll keep that in mind. Definitely."
"Good," she smiles at him, giving him one of those calculating stares before reaching a hand up to poke him in his cheek. "But right now it needs you over here being the little spoon."
"Little spoon? The bed needs that, huh?"
"It's begging for it." She says, very seriously with a straight face to prove it.
Barry lets his phone play out randomly, using his speed to quickly drop it on the bedside table before he settles himself back next to best friend in the entire world.
He's brave as he grabs her arm and turns on his side, pulling Iris' arm around his waist. Their hands rest just above Barry's belly button, and he can feel the heat of the touch radiating through his skin.
Predictably, he reacts by teasing and making a terrible joke. "Don't try anything, West."
It's Iris' turn to laugh, her goofy one that's a little awkward but so incredibly cute that Barry wants to speed directly into a large body of water. "Says the guy with his ass in my crotch."
"Oh my god," Barry groans, shoving his face into his pillow, "Iris."
But whether his blink-of-an-eye shifting snuggle backwards is purposeful or not, Iris doesn't mention it.