A/N: This takes place right after Iris finishes making her goodbye video to Barry. :'(

*OVERWHELMING THANKS to my beta, sendtherain, for helping me through this mess of a smut-fluff fic. And also to irissswests and wanderer765 (on tumblr) for providing some insight as well.

*I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended.

...

Barry's phone clinked softly on the bedside table when she set it down after finishing the video message.

This was good, Iris assured herself. If the worst were to happen – and it was hard not to envision that now – at least Barry would have that piece of her to hang on to.

But what would she have? Echoed through her mind, as much as she tried to avoid it.

She would be dead, so she would have nothing. It was as simple as that. But Barry, in her stead, would have grief and failure hanging over him for the rest of his life. She had made him promise to hold the team together if she died at Savitar's hands, but it was one thing to say the words and quite another to follow through on them. It wasn't that she doubted he'd follow through either. She knew he would try. But she also knew how grief engulfed him. His mother, his father, and now her? Even the Flash could only take so much.

Seeing you die? It's impossible not to be consumed by that.

She closed her eyes slowly at the painful memory. That whole day, that whole night, had been hard. Yet there'd been so much truth in everything they had said and done, and much of it rang true to this day.

But before the weight of all the emotions and memories running through her completely crushed her into the bedding, Iris felt a whoosh send her hair flying and then looked up to see her fiancé and his bedhead standing there with a to-go bag in one hand. He held it up cheerfully, grinning at his victory.

"An assortment of caviar," he said proudly, displaying the requested food before her in the take-out bowl it had come in.

She wrinkled her nose. "Take out, Bear?" She glanced up at him in time to see his jaw drop. "I wanted something fresh."

She could see the wheels turning, rapidly trying to come up with a solution to her complaint, but he was unable to voice anything due to the heavy thickness of his tongue and the dry rasp in his throat.

"I…" he managed and then started to frown. "It is fresh."

Iris dropped the façade. She took the plate from his hand, set it on their bedside table, and rose onto her knees. She grabbed a fistful of his soft t-shirt and pulled him to her, a kiss warm and welcoming on her lips, a quiet moan telling him she'd missed him for those two minutes he'd been gone.

She shivered when she felt his arms wrap around her, lightly grazing the fabric of her long-sleeved shirt. She leaned backwards and slid her arms around his neck, pulling him with her and collapsing onto the bed so her head was almost hanging over the other side.

"Mmph!" came from Barry seconds before he lifted his head.

Iris' eyes blinked open to see him staring down at her, all confusion and conflicted as to whether he should keep going or resume the debate regarding the caviar he'd retrieved.

"What?" she asked softly, absently leaning her face into his hand as he brushed aside strands of her dark hair.

He shook his head and dipped down to kiss her - a slow, lingering kiss that took her breath away. When he pulled back his eyes glittered with a marvel she didn't notice the first time.

"You're just really beautiful," he said. His fingers ran down the curves of her face. "So, so, beautiful."

"Barry—" she tried to interrupt, a scolding for him making the moment too dark even in his flattery, but he kept going before she succeeded.

"And yet, not the least bit grateful that I was able to find caviar at all."

She smiled and opened her mouth for a retort, but he wouldn't let her speak, putting two fingers across her lips to prevent it. "You actually thought I'd race all over the city only to come back with some soggy, overly salted caviar for my fiancée? Did it not even occur to you a take-out bag would prevent it from going flying on my way home?"

He removed his fingers, but Iris's mouth didn't shut. She stared at him in awe, rendered speechless.

Barry pulled himself up and grabbed the bowl from where his lovely fiancée had set it.

"Crackers?" Iris said expectantly when he returned to her. Barry laughed and shook his head but quickly sped down to the kitchen to retrieve some.

"Your wish is my command, m'lady." He bowed reverently over the tray of crackers he held out before her.

Iris giggled and took what he had to offer, taking one small bite to start so the taste wouldn't overwhelm her.

Barry waited with baited breath as she slowly chewed and then swallowed the first tiny bite.

"Well?" he asked when he couldn't stand the silence any longer.

She looked up at him, and her eyes sparkled. "Perfect. Like it was made just a minute ago."

He grinned and laid back down, watching as she took another bite.

"It was. Thirty seconds ago, to be exact." He smiled smugly, then paused. "Well…thirty seconds before you dragged me onto the bed and tried to seduce me."

"Twied?" Iris asked, mouth full.

He raised his eyebrows suggestively. "If you'd succeeded, I'd be on your mouth – or in it," he smirked, "not the caviar."

Iris felt the heat spread over her face.

"This feels kinky."

"Talking dirty?" He scooted closer to her. "Or talking dirty while eating…" He stole the last bite from her hand, not considering how salty it would be before eating it whole. "Cavi—"

"Barry, don't!"

But it was too late. His eyes bulged out of their sockets.

"Wow, that is really—"

Iris quickly slipped out from beneath the covers and grabbed a glass of water from the bathroom, which he downed instantly.

"You good?"

He nodded, eyes watering. "Yeah." He laughed. "Yeah, I'm good."

She shook her head, standing over him at the side of the bed.

"You know how caviar works, babe."

He laughed again. "Mhmm, I do."

She caught his eye and sat beside him on the bed, pulling him in for a lightly salted kiss.

"Amazing how your libido can make you forget all common sense," she teased, but she was all smiles, and he didn't look offended in the least.

"I seem to remember one time when it definitely had a positive reaction. Say about…a month or so ago? Maybe a few weeks?"

She grinned, remembering. "Oh, yes, one kiss from me and suddenly you had your speed again."

"It was at least three kisses," he protested.

"Would've been more if you'd just stayed still."

He shook his head at her, smiling. "I think I've made up for it since then."

"Mhmmm." She wrapped her arms around his neck and dragged him with her across the bed again. "More than." She stole a breathy kiss, then tugged at his bottom lip before releasing him to the space between them. "Feel free to do it again," she whispered and arched up against him as she hooked her knee over his calf.

He groaned and pressed hot, wet kisses down her neck, his muscles hard as rock when she slipped her fingers beneath his shirt to pull it up over his head.

"Anything you want, Iris West."

His shirt off, Iris craned her neck off the bed and clamped her hands around the back his head, pushing herself flush up against him. She moaned, kissing him and winding her limbs around his as he stayed propped in push-up position, kissing her back.

Iris pulled away slightly so she could breathe and realized that she was quite literally hanging from him in mid-air. She laughed and buried her face in his neck.

"What?" he asked, smiling too. She could feel the grin against her cheek.

"I feel like I'm a monkey hanging from a tree," she muttered.

He laughed. "So drop."

Her eyes widened as she pulled back to look at him. Her mouth hung open.

"I'll catch you," he said smugly.

"Less than a foot off the bed? Six inches max?" she asked dubiously.

He smirked. "Don't I always catch you, Iris?"

Her face softened. She drew her hand along the side of his face and traced the edges gently with a graceful stroke of her fingers.

"You always catch me, Barry."

Dares and silliness forgotten, Barry lowered himself slowly to the bed's surface, depositing her amidst the pillows and soft comforter beneath them.

"I love you, Iris," he whispered, barely able to speak with the way her fingers danced across his skin.

Iris couldn't look away from him. Her dark brown eyes were locked on his green ones a tiny firecracker held close by her protector, her lover, her best friend, her soulmate.

Consumed by everything he meant to her and all the feelings rushing through her, Iris almost forgot what words were. She felt her tongue thick in her mouth and knew that in addition to parting her lips, moving it was essential to speech.

"I love you too," she responded, her voice hoarse with emotion, tears welling in her eyes and then soaking her dark skin. Barry wiped them away without hesitation, then pressed a kiss to every inch of skin those tears had touched.

Iris caught her breath in her throat. "I love you more than anything," she said, her arms involuntarily wrapping around his slender frame.

Her eyes closed beneath his touch, and she nearly came undone, nearly started full-on sobbing because she was so overcome by what was happening between them, what existed in this moment and had for as long as they'd known each other.

That love between the two of you… That's the one thing that should stay simple.

The words drifted through her mind. Another painful memory that still held so much truth. Everything her dad had said that day had hurt and helped in the best and worst ways.

That man does love you.

Iris opened her eyes, felt Barry shift, move his hands down the curves of her body, press a kiss to her ear, to her jaw, to her chin.

"Barry…"

He lifted his head to look at her, searching her eyes for any sign of concern and marveling at her beauty, at how much he loved her and how much she loved him.

Iris's breath caught in her throat.

That kind of love is rare.

It was rare. And she had that with Barry. She had that pure, perfect love with her childhood soulmate, Barry Allen. How did one handle such an outpouring of affection and loyalty and devotion? How did one survive the prospect of losing it?

"Make love to me," she whispered. His soft smile abruptly disappeared with her next words. "Like it's the last time."

His brows furrowed, his heart plunging into the pit of the stomach. "Iris—"

"I'm not giving up, Barry," she insisted, pressing a firm hand to his chest. He eyed her skeptically. "I swear I'm not."

"Okay…"

"But…if it is the last time—"

"Iris—"

"If it is." She waited a few beats until she was sure he wouldn't interrupt her again. "Don't you want to make sure we didn't waste this opportunity? Don't you want a moment you can remember for the rest of your life?"

Barry hesitated, then let his fingers glide down the side of her body, from neck to shoulder to breast to hip, smoothing over her stomach with a light pressure till she was wriggling beneath him with the need for skin-to-skin contact.

Without looking up at her, Barry lowered his head to the hem of her shirt and peeled back the fabric a few inches with his teeth. Iris's gasp – the only sound in the rapidly heating room – nearly made him prolong the torture, but he relented and used his hands to relieve her of the clothing that still separated the two of them. Drawn like a magnet to her lips, he kissed her after her final piece of clothing had been deposited on the floor. In that slow, sensuous moment, Iris dug her toes beneath Barry's pants and boxers, ridding him of the rest of his garments and then pulling him flush against her so she could feel all of him. And she felt him. She felt his hard length on her thighs and his arms pressed against her shoulders. She felt his limbs bearing a slight tremor as her legs locked around his. She felt the granite in his back as he fought to maintain control. She felt his breath on her face and saw the look of love and arousal and need in his eyes.

"We've barely gotten started, Barry." She tried to laugh, but there was no sign of amusement in his eyes.

"Like it's the last time, Iris," he whispered back, his eyes drowning in hers.

She abandoned the reality outside these four walls and melted into her fiancé. His strength, his endurance, his love for her, his need to pleasure her so that she would always be satisfied.

She lifted her head to meet his in a gentle kiss, but the light brushing contact electrified their senses. She could feel the lightning running through him as intensely as if it was rushing through her too. She moaned and held on tight and arched up into him until he sunk deep inside her, his heavy groan the verbal confirmation that he'd hit his target.

"Barry."

He moved in and out of her in excruciatingly long strides, almost completely extricating himself before returning to her core. She whimpered every time, fooled by the sensation that he was leaving her. He shuddered whenever he surged inside her, dazed by the feel of her around him.

To keep himself in check, Barry accompanied his thrusts with kisses peppered across her skin. He murmured sweet nothings into every crevice, whispers of love and adoration and desire. Iris responded to everything by saying his name in a different tone every time, a different way to say I love you and more.

"Barry," she ground out again some time later. This tone was urgent. This tone meant faster.

He obliged. She was too far gone to argue against him seducing her the way he liked. It didn't matter. He was amazed by her, consumed by her body, the melody of her voice, the way her hair stuck to her skin one moment and the next to his.

His speed increased, leaving him drenched, slick with sweat to the point that all Iris could do to hold onto him was claw at his scalp.

"Up," came her strangled voice, so he used the remaining strength in his legs to push himself up and lean his arms back on the bed where he now sat, moving only slightly inside her, waiting to see if she would make a move.

Iris caught her breath, straddled on top of him. She braced her hands on his shoulders and met his eyes. He was so hot for her. She could feel him throbbing inside her soaking core. Her nails firmly lodged into his skin, Iris started to move her hips in slow, grinding motions.

Barry struggled to breathe, forced himself not to touch her, to keep himself upright as best as he could and just let her have her way with him. But it was torture. His eyes were glued to the gentle bounce of her breasts as she switched from grinding to lifting and lowering herself onto his rock-hard dick. To increase the level of arousal in the way she knew he loved the most, she pulled her knees up until her feet were propped on either side of his torso. Then, she pushed him back so he was supine and reached for his hands, intertwining their fingers and using that firm grasp to quicken her pace, maintain her balance, and increase the pressure.

Barry groaned loudly as the smack of their bodies meeting and parting echoed throughout the large room, bringing him closer and closer with each second.

"Oh my god, Iris," he cried out, tears pricking the corner of his eyes. He knew he'd be embarrassed if he was outside this moment instead of in it.

"Barry," she whimpered again, biting her lower lip, knowing her legs were just about to give out, but so close that she didn't want to stop.

To save them both and get them immediately to the finish line, Barry started to thrust again. Hard. Fast. He used every last bit of strength he had in him to drive both of them to the edge. And when he did, Iris screamed. She collapsed on top of him, and he thrust one last time inside her, pulsing madly.

They panted together in the dark silence, stuck to each other's skins.

"If that was the last time…" she said some time later, still gulping in air where she could find it.

"It was one hell of a time," Barry finished for her, his trembling fingers dribbling down the length of her back.

"Yeah," she said, and pressed a kiss to his chest between her two favorite freckles. "No matter what happens," she murmured, "we'll have this."

Barry nuzzled his face into her hair and inhaled her scent, pushing off the urge to insist that she would be saved. He sighed softly and let her presence overpower him, let this moment fill every lonely, scared, angry, empty cell in his body.

His single whisper into the silence was the only sound heard until they both succumbed to sleep again, at least for a few hours, caviar forgotten. The only thing that mattered was each other.

"We'll always have this."