[ There are approximately two empty pizza boxes and three-and-a-half polished-off pints of ice cream scattered across the coffee table between the two of them by the time Kara Danvers slides into Barry Allen's lap, the old movie they'd been making their best effort to curl up and watch together still playing in the background. In fact, the flickering from the television screen is the only real source of lighting in the room that isn't the backdrop of National City through the windows, which makes the whole thing just feel... sexier, somehow.
Even before they'd started kissing she was already cuddled up into him, head nested on his shoulder with her legs drawn up beneath her and her fingers idly plucking at the buttons on his shirt, and when he'd dropped his arm from the back of the couch to lightly stroke fingers through her hair she'd stretched against him like a cat, making a soft noise in the back of her throat before she could even stop herself. Her first instinct had been to freeze, to look up and try to play it off with some lame joke, but once she'd found his gaze in the semi-darkness and realized neither of them was paying attention to the movie anymore, it was all over from there.
She's settled into a straddle across his thighs, cupping his face gently between her palms, kissing him like she hasn't even known she's wanted to but absolutely throwing herself into it now that she's here in this moment. He's warm, he's so warm beneath her and against her and in a burst of sudden impulse she breaks the kiss and perches on his knees to peel her sweater off, blonde hair spilling down past her shoulders once it clears her head — and then she just looks at him, pausing before leaning in to pick up right where they've left off. ]
This — it's okay, right? [ She whispers it, searching his face, unsure if this will be the point when he tells her to stop or if they might not be able to say they're just friends anymore; deep down she really, really hopes it's the second one, because if she's being honest with herself she's had a crush on him for longer than she was even fully aware of it. ]
BREAKS THIS IN AYYYY
Even before they'd started kissing she was already cuddled up into him, head nested on his shoulder with her legs drawn up beneath her and her fingers idly plucking at the buttons on his shirt, and when he'd dropped his arm from the back of the couch to lightly stroke fingers through her hair she'd stretched against him like a cat, making a soft noise in the back of her throat before she could even stop herself. Her first instinct had been to freeze, to look up and try to play it off with some lame joke, but once she'd found his gaze in the semi-darkness and realized neither of them was paying attention to the movie anymore, it was all over from there.
She's settled into a straddle across his thighs, cupping his face gently between her palms, kissing him like she hasn't even known she's wanted to but absolutely throwing herself into it now that she's here in this moment. He's warm, he's so warm beneath her and against her and in a burst of sudden impulse she breaks the kiss and perches on his knees to peel her sweater off, blonde hair spilling down past her shoulders once it clears her head — and then she just looks at him, pausing before leaning in to pick up right where they've left off. ]
This — it's okay, right? [ She whispers it, searching his face, unsure if this will be the point when he tells her to stop or if they might not be able to say they're just friends anymore; deep down she really, really hopes it's the second one, because if she's being honest with herself she's had a crush on him for longer than she was even fully aware of it. ]