#friendly five

[of-monsters-and-werewolves]

Can't recall ever hearing 'The Friendly Five' being used to refer to the collective of Tojo, Chumvi, Kula, Tama and Malka, but apparently it was. Anyone in the TLK fandom know where it originated from?

[biblioncollection]

Friendly Five | Mary C. Hungerford | School | Audiobook full unabridged ...

[chasingblue57]

Snowbarry plays twister

notes | Here you go anon! I also tied it in with dribbled 002 because why not? :) Set in a nonspecific future where Eddie is still alive and he and iris have moved in together (basically, friendly five ‘verse)

title | tangled up

“Rightfoot green!” Iris calls out with a laugh. She’s perched on a stool in themiddle of her and Eddie’s living room, sipping at a glass of wine while shedictates their twister championship imperiously (there is a distinctpossibility that at this point she’s just calling out whatever color and limbcombination she thinks will be the most difficult; she’s four glasses in andhaving way too much fun).

Tangled,sprawled and a little breathless with the effort of remaining propped up on thetwister mat, Eddie, Barry and Caitlin all groan before slowly starting to shifttheir positions. It’s a pretty good combination of potential champions, giventhat they’re all weirdly competitive about game night. They’ve been on thisround for nearly ten minutes and none seem ready to cave quite yet (despiteCisco’s best efforts to shout distracting smack-talk—the sooner someone wins,the sooner they can all play something else and it’s his turn to pick).

“Comeon, you should be moving by now,” Iris wheedles faux-sweetly when Barrylags behind, not yet inching towards his goal (right foot still pretty firmlyattached to the red dot it had slid to three ‘spins’ ago).

“I’mtrying,” he protests, weaved between Caitlin and Eddie, both of whom startlaughing as he wobbles a little in his trek.

Poised,polished Caitlin manages to get a handle on her giggles but Eddie doesn’t andthe distraction has him crashing suddenly down to the floor, cursing on his waydown.

“Goodtry Eddie!” It’s a little smug but well meaning, as the sudden extra spacemakes it easy for Barry to get his foot onto the selected dot.

“Saveit Allen, Caitlin’s totally going to beat you,” but it’s an easy going jaband Eddie’s already grinning and heading toward the kitchen. They hear himrummage through the fridge for a fresh beer when he shouts back, “speedround Iris. Do or die!” (they are all way too competitive for this).

Irisdoes start calling out combinations faster now, actually spinning the boardrather then taking the time to plot, which forces Barry and Caitlin to movequicker and quicker (normally not a problem for the Flash but he usuallydoesn’t have to pay this much attention to where his hands and feet are). Thegame only becomes more complicated when Iris decides to add extra body parts,ignoring their protest at “right elbow yellow” and starting to spinagain while they scramble to catch up.

Eventuallyshe does have to pause though, overcome by laughter and gasping for air whenshe realizes just how tightly tangled Barry and Caitlin have become in theirquest to match her orders: Barry is propping himself up upside down, back tothe mat, stretched diagonally over the dots at an angle that has him clenchinghis jaw in concentration. Caitlin’s mostly above him, one leg between his and herankle nearly hooked against his to remain upright. Her cheek is hovering justabove his chest and they seem to realize their proximity in the same momentthat everyone else does, because as Caitlin shifts a little their eyes catchand their mouths curl into vacant, absent smiles. 

Irislooks over the board, trades a grin with Cisco and Eddie and then doesn’t evenbother to pretend to flick the spinner. “Left wrist red." 

They’reboth too busy staring to process and by the time they’re wiggling toward the reddots, it’s definitely too late: Caitlin’s hooked ankle tugs against Barry’s andhis one hand knocks against her shoulder and suddenly they’re falling in acomical jumble of limbs (or it should be, but silent, mutual agreement has theother three slipping immediately from the room, some vague comment about snackstotally ignored).

"Hey,”Barry mumbles, soft and smiling, where he lies with his back against the floor,arms and legs spread (and pinned) beneath Caitlin. 

Hefeels the rumble of her laughter roll through his chest where she’s sprawledout, a warm weight against him. “Hey." 

Atsome point in their contortion act, her carefully pulled back hair had escapedand now tickles against his neck and bare arm. "You smell nice,” isnot the best segue way, but when Caitlin just shakes her head and bites herlip, he figures it’s probably not the worst one either. Moving slow, careful,giving her time to react, Barry leans up to press his mouth tentatively againsthers. Caitlin doesn’t resist, just presses back confidently, nothing heated butit lingers long enough for him to feel the curl of her smile (it is, on thewhole, a satisfying first kiss: chaste but with the promise of so much more tocome). 

They’reboth grinning like fools when they pull away. “So, do you think thatcounts as a tie? Or did I win, because I’m on top?” Caitlin teases eyesbright.

“Ithink that means I win.”

(Hereye roll is 100% amused affection and it is definitely better then any gamenight victory).

Snowbarry & friendly five fluff :) Happy Friday friends!

[chasingblue57]

early christmas gifts

title | early christmas gifts

notes | So I’m starting to get in the holiday spirit and I went to a hockey game last night and the scarf part popped into my mind, so you get this. Hope you enjoy!

It’s Iris’s idea to go to the botanical garden’s annual light show the day before Christmas Eve. Ever a lover of their holiday displays, she’d bought the tickets weeks ago, insisting that they’d all need something to get them into the holiday spirit, claiming that with their busy lives (jobs and meta humans and the myriad of related disasters that seem to come with the territory) they’d be too distracted otherwise. She is, of course, completely right—so much so that they barely make the final minutes that it’s open, but they do: Caitlin pulls them into the lot (all still tugging on more weather appropriate clothes) about five minutes before the ticket counter closes (Barry’s pretty sure he’s still bleeding somewhere, but had decided against mentioning it, when he’d seen Iris looking anxiously prepared to be disappointed, and Caitlin standing with her coat over her arm).

That was half an hour ago, before the temperature seemed to drop substantially, leaving them on the far end of the gardens, wandering slowly as they take in the lights and chatter in little groups. Iris is tugging Eddie along at the front of their group, eager to see everything and snap an occasional picture, completely missing the adoration on her fiancé’s face as he sneaks in shots of his own, Iris’s smile lit in Christmas lights, wide eyed and completely happy. A little ways behind, giving them space, trail Cisco and Joe, trying to brainstorm ways to trick out Joe’s front yard (at least on Cisco’s side, Joe’s mostly just humoring him).

Barry and Caitlin are a little father back yet, strolling quietly through the displays and commenting here and there about what they find particularly well put together. Or at least, that’s ostensibly what they’re doing—Barry at least is also sneaking occasional looks at Caitlin, enjoying the way she smiles slightly at the simpler arrangements, unassuming and typically full of meaning. Eventually, he realizes his distraction and shakes loose enough to notice more than the curve of her lips and the lingering directions of her gaze.

Caitlin's cheeks are flushed, even buried beneath the layers of her coat and sweater, a light scarf and thin gloves. She has a knit cap pulled on and her hair down, but it’s clearly doing nothing to keep the cold away from her face. Barry smiles, glancing back at her red cheeks and unable to miss the shiver that dances up her spine. "Chilly?" It's adorably endearing, the way she shrugs dismissively, as if she isn't when he clearly can see that that's not true. Thankfully, he has a scarf of his own that he can definitely live without, so Barry tugs it off and pauses, leaning in close to wind it around her neck, careful and indifferent to her immediate protests--he waves them off with a cheeky smile and a fond roll of his eyes. 

"It's fine Cait, I don't really need it." He tucks the last loop below her chin and then leans in a little closer, mouth beside her ear so he can whisper conspiratorially: "see about two years ago, this particle accelerator thing blew up and somehow it gave me these crazy powers and now I'm a lot warmer then I used to be." 

She's giggling even as she elbows his side, knocking his breath loose with a surprised gasp—between her sweatshirt and coat and his coat, he’s pretty sure her elbow shouldn’t pack quite that much force. "Shhh," but there's no heat in the scolding wag of her gloved finger (or anyone near enough to their group to actually overhear), so Barry just snags the digit between his own the second he's caught his wind again and rubs the chilled limb between his hands.

“Your fingers are like tiny icicles Caitlin,” Barry admonishes, starting to walk along once more, half serious and have still teasing—warmer from the interaction than any layer of fabric he’s wearing. “You’d think someone named Snow would be better at dressing for the weather.”

It’s totally worth another wild jab to his side, the way she groans and rolls her eyes, head shaking with such playful annoyance that her curls pull loose of her jacket collar as Iris turns from admiring the lights to grin at them and shoot Barry a pointed look that he ignores. “That joke was probably pretty funny when I was four and heard it for the first time Barry,” which is not a convincing argument to make, given the way her eyes are dancing up towards his and her lips are still settled firmly toward the stars.

He just shrugs, light and easy, and uses the grip he still has on her one hand to tug her against his side and slip an arm over her shoulders. It’s probably a mark of how chilly she is that Caitlin doesn’t protest, just burrows a little closer and lets her attention return to the lights and the snow that’s slowly beginning to fall in large, lazy flakes. 

Twenty minutes later, done with the gardens and speckled with snowflakes, they all shuffle into their vehicles for the slippery trek home. They say goodbye to Iris and Eddie then Caitlin drops off Cisco and Joe, shooting Barry a puzzled look when he doesn’t slide out with his adoptive father. “I was thinking I’d ride back with you, so I can stop at Star Labs and grab my suit—just in case the weather’s too bad in the morning?” She’s closer to the lab than Joe’s place is, and he’s a little worried about the road conditions but is also pretty sure Caitlin won’t take well to his fussing.

This at least she doesn’t argue, sliding back into drive and laughing when he immediately begins fiddling with the radio, turning it back to the Christmas music Cisco had ditched for pop. “Just getting into the spirit,” he jokes.

Her laughter peals out over O Holy Night but she joins him in singing (endearingly out of tune to his perfect pitch) for the rest of the ride, stopping only when she’s parked her car in her garage stall and they’ve begun to trek up to the outside landing of her apartment building. “Thanks for seeing me home Barry.” Because she knows the real reason, ridiculously unnecessary though it might be—she does appreciate that he worries, given how much she herself does. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he laughs, just as Caitlin starts to unwind the scarf he’d curled around her neck more than an hour ago. “Don’t worry about it,” Barry’s hands lift to meet and still hers, taking back the ends to arranging them once more. “I’ve got another one,” and the red and gray knit looks far better on her. “Consider it an early part of your Christmas present.” Once more, it’s the soft curl of her smile and her presence warming his smile.

“Thanks Barry.” There’s a soft, thoughtful look up before she leans forward on her toes to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “See you at Joe’s tomorrow for dinner.”

And then she turns into the building, to just barely catch his absent minded “yeah”. He didn’t expect an early Christmas gift in return but he’s not letting her take back the kiss any more than she’s giving back his scarf.

hope you enjoyed the fun, with a little glimpse/nod to the friendly five. I’m sure there will be more winter/holiday themed fun! Haven’t seen the crossover yet, but that’s my tomorrow goal, so expect a tag fic.

Also, reminder about the Snowbarry Holiday [Giving] Contest! Just over two weeks left to submit something and share the snowbarry love!

[chasingblue57]

haunted house hi-jinx

notes | Just a silly, pointless, halloween related team fic because friendly five is always fun, plus haunted houses equal some nice comfort/close scenes.

“Why are we here again?” A voice whimpers in front of him, unsteady and thin. In the scant glow of Cisco’s flashlight, Barry can see Caitlin’s profile in front of him, tense and jumpy as they crawl slowly through the tangled maze of the haunted house. 

“Because it’s fun,” Eddie replies, a few more feet forward, wedged between Caitlin and Iris and as buoyantly enthusiastic and unshakable as always. Barry can’t see it, but he’d be willing to bet that Eddie’s fingers are tangled with Iris’s—his source of reassurance more than hers, the grounding that always keeps the detective moving forward with confident ease. Either way, his reassurance does nothing for the set of Caitlin’s shoulders or the way she keeps skittering sideways at every distant shriek and sound.

Barry isn’t exactly afraid (he logically knows nothing is wrong, that it’s all just pretend, that he could outrun any danger here) but it’s hard not to get caught up in the hype and the energy, so he can understand normally stoic Caitlin’s apprehension. She hadn’t really wanted to come, had been offering alternate ideas all week, but Iris and Cisco had both been adamant about wanting to come and try though she might, she hadn’t been able to sway them (or resist the combined forces of their persuasion).

“Remember,” he whispers, pressing close enough to feel her jump and then relax against the planes of his chest, “none of it’s real.”

Cisco turns a corner and takes the light with them; so Barry can only feel her warm breath wash against his neck, not see her turn toward him. “I know, I know, it’s just,” and there’s a shout, Iris’s this time (half frightened shriek, half wild laughter) and she jumps more firmly against him, teetering on the uneven floor. Barry fumbles an arm around her waist, tugs her close in the darkness and feels a little calmer himself for the warmth of her pressed close: her familiar breaths, and smell and soft curls. “I hate this stuff. We deal with scary, crazy things every day—why do we need to pay to do it in our time off?”

It’s enough to make him laugh against her ear, warm and easy despite the situation—stubborn, rational Caitlin, as always. “Because everyone else wanted to and you’re too nice to ruin their fun?”

He doesn’t need to see to picture the look she must be wearing—rolled eyes, a scowl fighting against a smile, her feet would be tapping if they weren’t still creeping forward, groping around for the corner the rest of their friends have disappeared around. “I wish I was,” she mumbles, screeching a little when they finally do turn the corner and discover the clown room that had scared everyone else. Cisco, Iris and Eddie are at the far end, clearly waiting for them, so they snake their way through, both dodging the people dressed as clowns that follow their every step and catch up pretty quickly.

“Took you long enough,” Cisco teases, before pressing forward, leaning his weight against the next door, letting darkness largely swallow them up again.

“We’ll be fine,” Barry whispers from behind her, jumping a little himself when he notices one of the clowns is right behind him. He hears Caitlin giggle a little, distracted and amused by his reaction, and reaches forward to weave their hands together. “If we stick together.”

“Sounds like a good plan.” Caitlin squeezes his fingers between hers and tugs him forward, seeming to draw some courage from their connection, enough at least to make it through the last two rooms and then tease Cisco and Eddie about how anxious they get at the morgue room (while she and Barry stride through without stumble and Iris pulls Eddie determinedly forward, not looking at anything).

A little silly fluff that came to mind last week when I was home, taking my cousins to a haunted house. Finally took a little time to write it out.

[chasingblue57]

whiskey | 2.0

title | whiskey, take II

notes | So cmoolas asked if I’d do Barry’s POV from yesterday’s fic, so I figured I’d tackled that while I was still in that headspace :) [Decided this is definitely in my Nuclear Reaction ‘verse]

Caitlin Snow is addictive, Barry decides, spotting her the moment he walks into the bar. It takes a scarce few seconds for her to feel the weight of his gaze and search him out and the moment that warm brown zeroes in, he feels a shudder of heat race like lightning up his spine. Unable to resist (and so, so glad he no longer has to), Barry pauses briefly (satisfyingly), to let his attention rake up and down every inch of her that he can see across the crowded room. The reward is immediate: half his mouth curls with the possessive, satiating knowledge that she’s his (and he’s hers) and the feeling only burns hotter at the reaction it spurs in Caitlin—the way her eyes dilate in response. She must read mischief in the lines of his mouth, because he watches her turn pointedly away with a rolling sweep of soft brown, the edge of her own lips twitching against a smothered smile.

Humming to himself, thrumming with a barely contained buzz of energy, Barry sidles up to the bar and waits his turn for a pint of beer. It’s a busy Friday night (the only time they can even occasionally manage to pull themselves away from their work and just relax and enjoy themselves; and tonight is proof that even that rarely works, given that he and Iris are both late to the proverbial party), so it takes a little while to get his drink and leave his money, but eventually he’s navigating through the crowd towards his friends. Two tables away, he starts to pick up the threads of the conversation—Cisco and Eddie are talking about Game of Thrones, apparently to Caitlin’s great amusement, as she’s sitting between the two, listening silently, her curls bouncing as her attention swings from one to the other.

Grinning fondly at all three of them, Barry steps into the circle, pressing tightly against Caitlin’s back as he settles in. The contact is a welcome live wire after a long day at work and Barry revels in the heat of her skin, the pressure of her shoulders against his chest, the familiar cadence of her inhales and exhales while she almost imperceptivity relaxes herself against him. Her presence ensnares his senses in the best way (something its been doing more and more these last few weeks), a constant edge against all his awareness, even as he says his hellos and apologizes for getting caught up in the lab. It’s both comfortable and unsettling, the flush of heat that accompanies any and all contact with Caitlin and he basks in it eagerly.

If their friends notice the change in him, they pay it no heed (though he supposes they’ve had weeks and months to acclimate as the tension between them built and then spiraled completely and wonderfully out of control). Eddie waves away his apology, as Barry had known he would and Cisco gives an eager grin before diving into an attempt to get Barry on his side of the friendly argument he seems to have interrupted (“Renly Baratheon man, if it weren’t for the whole evil shadow-baby thing, he would have rocked the Iron Throne, right?”).

For his part, Barry just laughs and stretches his arm out, reaching for the glass he’s set next to Caitlin’s, fingers tracing the falling drops of condensation as if in thought. Truth be told, his concentration is only vaguely on the cases that Cisco and Eddie are making (he’s sure they’re actually good points), invested instead in the woman against his chest. He can’t help himself, can’t resist her pull, and so he plays with his glass and nods along with their friends and lets his hip press against Caitlin’s warm spine while he gives an impassioned defense of Daenarys Targaryen as the true and rightful ruler of Westeros. Both men are jointly indignant at his claim, and it’s worth their rapid fire protests to be able to chuckle hot, staccato puffs of air against the bare skin along Caitlin’s neck and watch the way her skin tenses under that gentle pressure. He’s teasing, they both know and neither cares (to be fair, she’s come to play that game as certainly as he has, with her red lipstick and perfectly cut dress, the air around her suffused with the perfume that had lingered in her sheets the first time they fell into bed together). Right now it’s nothing more than a game to see who will cave first, and he really doesn’t care who wins and who loses.

They make it about a drink later than it takes Iris to get away from work before they break almost simultaneously and begin stuttering out thin excuses—claiming long weeks and early mornings and pointedly ignoring the knowing way their friends grin at them as they leave quickly, but not nearly quickly enough. Barry flashes them back to Caitlin’s desperately fast.

Yes, Caitlin is definitely addictive, Barry thinks as he finally sees beyond those too-few inches he’d been able to enjoy at the bar, but by the way the brown of her eyes blows wide with the sweep of his eager fingers, he’s pretty sure she thinks the same of him, so that’s definitely more than okay.

Thoughts? I actually originally wrote Whiskey from Caitlin’s POV because I seem to write far more from Barry’s, but now I have both. I think I included enough repetition to link them without being overbearing? I hope anyway, that was the intention. As always, hope you guys enjoyed it! See you tomorrow :)

[chasingblue57]

whiskey

title | Whiskey

notes | A Snowbarry established fic, with some strong inspection of physical attraction but totally pg. Could potentially be set in my Nuclear Reaction ‘verse, I suppose, 3-5 weeks later, when they’re dating in the aftermath but not necessary to read to understand (part II is definitely not pg, so there’s that). Anyhow, dedicated this to tinytendril​ because your lovely message today made me kick my butt in gear to get some work finished so I could get back to tumblr :)

Barry Allen is addictive, Caitlin decides, catching his eye across the bar. Her pupils blow a little wide at the way one side of his mouth saunters slowly up into an expression not quite a smile and not quite a smirk; some sort of delicious in between she so badly wants to taste (the way she’s been doing for weeks now, ever since they tumbled into her bed and their joint confessions, and let this thing simmering between them out into the open). And he knows it, damn him, because the green of his eyes darkens a shade and the other edge of his mouth rises in pure mischief—hiding a smirk of her own, Caitlin just rolls her own dark gaze and throws her attention into ignoring him completely. 

It’s not too hard, given that she’s sitting between Eddie and Cisco and the pair are deeply entrenched in an eager, heated discussion about (of all things) Game of Thrones. Sometime between Barry entering the bar (running late for their usual Friday night out, though to be fair, so is Iris—both of them caught up in their actual day jobs for a change, rather than the heroics that usually end up cancelling these get-togethers), noticing them and ordering a drink, Cisco and Eddie seem to have taken up arguing which Baratheon would have made a better king and she’s actually a little disappointed to have missed the segue way because, frankly, now that she’s investing herself in the conversation, it’s kind of fascinating.

So fascinating, in fact, that it’s almost an honest surprise when Barry’s chest presses suddenly against her shoulder blades, heat radiating from both his frame and his smile, as the ghost of his breath crawls across her neck with his greeting. Almost, but not quite, because her senses have all oriented toward him as true north these last weeks and it’s impossible not to feel every inch he occupies in a room, even when she’s pretending she doesn’t. Caitlin feels the “sorry I’m late,” he tacks on to his hello as his pectorals rise and fall with the force of his lungs and she feels like there’s firecrackers dancing along her nerve endings.

But no one else notices her livewire attention to everything that is Barry Allen (they’ve grown used to it, first the tension rising like a tide between them and then the fallout of that tension breaking, acknowledged and enjoyed but certainly not abating). Eddie just gives a dismissive wave of his hand at the apology and Cisco immediately tries to pull him to his side (“Renly Baratheon man, if it weren’t for the whole evil shadow-baby thing, he would have rocked the Iron Throne, right?”)

Caitlin would roll her eyes, but they’re locked on the fingers stretched into her line of sight, playing absently with condensation of the pint glass he’s set right by her own. He’s playing at distracted, at invested in the conversation and the lazy unwinding these evenings are suppose to represent, but Caitlin’s not fooled. He’s teasing her—idle fingers, ghosting breath, the nudge of his hip against her spine as he angles in close—even as he’s championing Daenarys as a better ruler than either Baratheon brother and chuckling over the joint outrage that their friends are sputtering. He’s teasing her and she knows it and damn everything but she doesn’t even care (not like she can, not like she’s any better—her lipstick is as red as his suit, the cut of her dress hints at skin he’s intimately familiar with and she’s wearing the perfume she had on that first night—and she knows he knows all these things too). So really, they’re teasing each other, vying to be the one who can hold out longest before they fall into the gravity between them.

It’s barely a drink after Iris finally arrives when they both submit to conquer and make half-hearted excuses about long weeks and early mornings and pointedly ignore the knowing grins their friends wear as they leave together for the still-not-fast-enough flash to her apartment.

Yes, Barry is addictive, Caitlin thinks as she finally tastes the heat behind that half-turned smile, but by the way the green of his eyes retreats, she’s pretty sure he thinks the same of her, so it’s definitely more than okay.

So first, hope you enjoyed the fic! Second, sorry for the unexpected absence just as I should have been diving back in--got asked to get summer school set up/sub in the first day and some to cover for the new hire and then help her get acclimated, so got bogged down with that. But after tomorrow, I am free of summer school and pretty well caught up on my end of year stuff. So, I will be a-scouring’ through the tag and getting caught back up!

Missed you guys lots and lots. If you’ve got any good fic recs, I’d love to see what I’ve been missing. Also, will be working on re-writing my prompt list so I can get back to those too!

(Also, title from the Jana Kramer song tagged in the title line, because it inspired this story)

[chasingblue57]

Prompt: The first time Barry sees Caitlin in a swimsuit. (They went swimming in the Season Zero comic but it doesn't have to be then.)

title | objectively gorgeous (omg, ideas appreciated, came up a blank here)

notes | Made it also a group friendship fic with everyone poking fun at Barry’s reaction–concentrated more on that piece of it but also his actual reaction and how he tries to play it off. Hope you like it!

“You should probably closeyour mouth Barry.”

Said mouth snaps shut witha nearly audible click as two widegreen eyes flash over to Cisco with a speed that would make his alter egojealous. Sprawled out on a towel in the sand, Cisco is grinning like the catthat caught the canary, barely holding back the bark of laughter that hadcolored his advice. As Barry’s lips curl into a wide, joking grin, he shakeshis head to fend off the accusation but Eddie, likewise sitting near enough byto watch the whole exchange, cuts off his attempt.

“Seriously Bar, you’re notfooling anyone.” And he sounds way too smug under those sunglasses and cockygrin, especially given the fact that Barry knows his reaction to Iris a fewminutes earlier hadn’t been much better. Of course, he’s actually dating Iris,so the gawking is probably a lot more appropriate.

Still. What gives them theright to—

“Perfect spot guys,” Irisinterrupts his mental tirade as she and Caitlin, now newly changed into theirswimsuits, join them at the section of sand they’ve managed to lay claim to viatheir vast collection of beach towels. It’s a perfect summer afternoon—blueskies, high temps, a breeze off the water and not a disaster in sight—sothey’ve decided to indulge in an afternoon off at one of Central City’s manysandy beached lakes. All in all, not a bad call, at least until the girls hadgone to change and the two guys had decided it was time to gang up on him.

Barry rolls his eyesslightly at Cisco and Eddie, the closest he’ll come to getting the last word inon this conversation, before turning to greet Iris and Caitlin as well. Hesmiles and nods to Iris before his focus trails over to Caitlin and promptlyshort circuits again.

Because good lord, CaitlinSnow is gorgeous. Objectively speaking, it’s not like he hasn’t always knownthat his friend is beautiful, it’s kind of a hard fact to miss. This however, thisis a whole different ballgame, one that reminds him sharply of that night outat karaoke, when she’d worn that black dress that had first forced him torealize that Caitlin Snow is so much more than beautiful.

“You okay Barry?” Hervoice, hovering somewhere in the neighborhood of concerned and worried, catcheshis attention and drags it back where it should be: her face. (Rather than thelong expanses of exposed skin, marked by the occasional freckle, andinterrupted only by two meager scraps of cobalt blue fabric that contraststhose dark cinnamon eyes perfectly). “You look a little flushed.” She’s in fulldoctor mode now, leaning in to check him more closely, brows furrowed inthought as she watches the way his pupils dilate (which has nothing to do withheat or dehydration and everything to do with the scent of lilies thataccompanies her increased proximity) and no doubt wondering if high heat andsun exposure are perhaps reacting adversely to his rapidly multiplying, crazycells.

The snickering behindhim—Cisco and Eddie, though there’s a smirk on Iris’s face that indicates she’scaught on as well (not surprising, she is a damn good reporter after all)—iswhat startles him into an actual reaction. He tips his lips back into a smile,shrugging his bare, too pale, freckled shoulders before leaning over toward thecooler to grab two bottles of water. “Just a little thirsty. Water?”

Caitlin just gives him onelast, lingering, puzzled look, not entirely buying his excuse, before reachingout to grab the bottle he offers. “If you say so,” and then she’s twisting the capoff and pressing her (too red) lips to the bottle and Barry is definitely notfollowing the drop of condensation that splashes against her collarbone only toend up soaking into the cobalt blue of her top.

“I think it’s time for anice, cool swim.”

So there you go. Made it a Friendly 5* fic because I love them all being buddies, which I think could totally happen if Barry could get over Iris (which will never happen in canon but I can totally dream it). Besides, I love the idea of everyone knowing how they both feeling and giving them crap and that works better if they’re all friends. Just a short, light hearted little piece about Barry seeing Caitlin in a new light.

Thoughts & title suggestions very much appreciated!

*Friendly 5 is my name/tag for any group friendship stories I write and/or read. Because you know, cutesy name and all that :)