nottheflash (nottheflash) wrote in multifariousic, @ 2015-07-14 17:11:00 |
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Entry tags: | !thread, barry allen (nottheflash), lydia martin (eunoia) |
WHO: Barry Allen and Lydia Martin
WHERE: Lydia's bedroom
WHEN:
WHAT: Age plot
RATING:
STATUS: Closed, Completed
Barry had a decently horrible day. He woke up late, missed the bus to school, had to call Joe to send a squad car for him, got there late, Tony Woodward had caught him in the hall and gave him a pretty nasty bruise on his cheek just before the last bell rang, and when he finally got home he realized that Iris had brought her new boyfriend over to meet Joe for the first time. By the time he had finished his chemistry homework he was beyond exhausted, and he passed out before his body even hit the bed. He was in a dead sleep, a rare happenstance for him, so when he woke up with his arms wrapped around what felt like a person, her back pressed into his bare chest, Barry was more or less positive that he was still dreaming. It wasn’t until he leaned in and breathed in the scent of her hair that he realized - someone was in his bed. There was a person in his bed. A real live girl. In his bed. Barry’s eyes snapped open and, ever the level headed confident seventeen year old boy he always way, he flailed and twisted before falling out of bed with a loud yelp. Oh God - was he naked? Was she naked?? He was almost positive that both of them were and despite the fact that he had no idea what the hell was going on or where he was Barry stayed on the floor and closed his eyes tightly, his face burning red as he tried to move away while still keeping his eyes shut. “I’m so sorry, I’m so - I don’t remember how I got here, I swear I didn’t - what’s going on, am I - ow-” he banged his head hard on her bedside table in his effort to blindly scoot away and Barry’s hands moved to his head, holding it with a wince as the pain started to throb in tandem with his bruised cheekbone. He opened his eyes when he felt like he had no other choice, sat up on his knees as he very purposefully kept his gaze off of her, and Barry grabbed the first pillow he could find to cover his lap before sitting back down on the floor. “I didn’t look, I swear I didn’t see anythi- okay, I saw a little but I didn’t mean to! Oh man… Oh man, Joe is gonna kill me, I don’t even know where I am- stop- no-” He tried to push away the annoying dog that kept trying to lick his face. He was naked. In a strange room. With a strange girl in a strange bed. He didn’t need a strange dog on top of it all. “Geddoff!’” He stumbled to his feet just to get away from the damn thing, still covering his lap with the pillow, and he took a chance to glance over to her on the bed so he could finally get a good look and see if he actually did know her. He didn’t. But she was really pretty, and that really didn’t make any of this better. He was practically blushing from head to toe. “...Was I drugged…?? Who are yo- where am I?” The previous night had been another rough one for Lydia. It was nothing short of tortuous having to watch that fucking television show, but she needed to; she had to know. Barry was always willing enough to sit through it with her, making her pause the show with the help of DVR if he thought she was stressing out too much, so that they could take a minute and she could regroup before pressing play again. Watching with Barry that particular way seemed to make digesting the content of the show easier. ...but it didn’t stop the nightmares she tried to hide or the insomnia that took shape while he drifted off and she lay motionless, silent, and wide awake in his arms for hours before finally losing the battle to stay awake herself. So when she felt him scramble out of the bed the next morning, she had only barely fallen asleep a few hours prior and groaned. “What are you doing?” she mumbled, her normally raspy voice worse for the sleep-choked croak that had worked its way in. Prada started barking just after Lydia heard a loud thump and she sat up quickly, suddenly very much alert, because Barry would’ve answered her, for one thing, and for another, well. Noise. Clutching her sheet to her chest, Lydia looked over as Prada calmed his barking in favor of licking...some...kid’s...face. “Oh my God,” she gasped. It took only another second of listening to him bumbled his way through an apology as he got to his feet to get away from Prada...plus, the fact that Prada was jumping at his legs for attention rather than growling and trying to bite him as he had the Stileses. Lydia’s expression fell into something both confused and mortified. “Barry?” she asked, her voice cracking as her eyes widened. The way he talked so awkwardly, the way that Prada was treating him...hell, even his facial structure all pointed to it. Her stomach tightened and twisted. “...is that you in there…?” Whoever this woman was, she looked just as confused as he did, and Barry was about to tear the place apart to find something to wear so he could take his embarrassment home with him. He had no idea where he was, but that didn’t matter, he’d run if he had to. That was, until, she had said his name, and suddenly everything got a whole lot more confusing. Had they met before? No, they certainly hadn’t, Barry would remember meeting a girl who looked like that, and he would definitely remember if he had her fall asleep in his arms completely naked. Yes, he would definitely remember that, and Barry sort of hoped that he was kidnapped or drugged because if he got really drunk and forgot spending a night with someone who looked like her he would probably hate himself for the rest of his life. “In where?” He asked in confusion, and he stared at her for a few more seconds with rapid blinks before pushing on. “I mean - yeah, that’s my name, I don’t - I’m Barry. Hi, I’m Barry. Um…” he was trying his hardest to be polite because he was almost positive that this was her place, and if this was confusing for him it must have been confusing for her to find a naked boy in her bed as well. “Who… are you?” He looked back down at her dog and he tried to awkwardly step away, but it followed him, and he looked back up before wetting his lips. His blush deepened, and when he spoke again he did it in a whisper, looking somehow curious and terrified at the same time. “D-Did we have….. Did we have sex…?” Lydia’s free hand shot up to cover her mouth when he answered her. Once he asked whether they’d slept together, Lydia’s hand fell away slowly as she stared back at him. Wow, he really was kind of scrawny before… she thought and immediately felt guilty for it. “I’m Lydia,” she answered slowly. “Barry Allen, right? How old are you?” she asked, shifting in the bed a little and patting the mattress. “Prada, come.” With a whimper, Prada finally turned and left Barry in his wake, hopping back up onto the bed and laying down. “Oh wow...okay, well…” Lydia stalled, “oh! Bar— my boyfriend keeps his clothes in the bottom drawer, sweetie,” she said quickly, realizing suddenly just how uncomfortable he looked to be. “Toss me that tank top and those panties, will you, when you’re dressed?” she asked, gesturing to her discarded clothes strewn about the floor...with older!Barry’s lab coat and work clothes. She carefully sidestepped the question about sex for the moment. The fact that she knew his last name just seemed to make him more uncomfortable than before, and all Barry could do was nod before squeaking out, “I’m seventeen,” and watching the small dog finally leave him be to jump up on her bed. It sounded like she had almost said his name again before changing tactics, and when she told him where he could find clothes he turned to open the drawer before freezing, finally registering her words. “Your boyfriend?” He repeated in a small panic, because that was exactly what Barry needed. To wake up in bed next to a pretty girl who had a boyfriend, who was most definitely bigger than Barry was. And she never answered. Oh God, why didn’t she answer? Was she avoiding the question? Was she just not sure? Just like he wasn’t? He leaned down and picked up the clothing that she had pointed out, tossing her the tank top and her panties without being able to look at her once again before finally digging through the drawer and finding a pair of boxers. They looked a little too big but they would do, and Barry very awkwardly managed to pull them on without removing the pillow from his lap. He only let it drop when he was covered, and he started to look through the clothing on floor to see if maybe he could find his own. No luck; all he saw was some sort of lab coat and a sweater and pants that looked way too big for him. His eyes moved back to the girl - Lydia. “How do you know my name? ...Do you know what’s going on here? Because I’m freaking out. I have an exam and I don’t even know where I am - can I borrow your phone, actually? I can probably call a… a ride…” he started to trail off. “Did we sleep together??” Somehow, she wasn’t surprised when Barry threw her her own clothes before looking for something to put on himself and when his back was turned, she let her sheet drop and tugged the tank top on. She slid to lay back down, pulling the panties on under them as he presumably struggled with the boxers, because he’d only just dropped the pillow when she finally sat back up. This...was going to be interesting. Seventeen. He was seventeen. “Okay, first? Do me a favor and just...sit down. On the edge of the bed if being too close to me freaks you out, but you’re making me anxious,” she started, “and second...you need to have an open mind because this is going to sound completely insane.” Lydia waited until he seemed to at least register her words before she went on. “You can borrow my phone if you want, but Central City doesn’t exist in this world. It’s...like an alternate universe. And I know your name because...Barry — older Barry — is my boyfriend. ...to answer your question...sort of? I mean, technically yes, we had sex. So, so much sex, but...it was kind of nine years in your future...so...however you want to take that, I guess? I don’t really know how to explain, uh…this,” she admitted, gesturing to him, “but I fell asleep with Barry Allen...when he was twenty-six. So...yeah…” Just the idea of sitting next to Lydia made Barry look nervous but he did so anyway, probably a little closer than he should have considering the fact that she said she had a boyfriend. He nodded quickly when she said that he had to keep an open mind, but only because he wanted answers, and he hadn’t actually taken the advice. So when she started to tell him exactly what was going on Barry’s head started spinning, and he stared at her as if waiting for her to tell him that she was kidding. His blush only deepened when she stated that they had, apparently, had a lot of sex, and started talking about how he was her boyfriend, in his future. Because he went back in time. Or… forward in time. Barry pinched the bridge of his nose. “That’s not-” he wanted to say ‘possible’ but he had a feeling that saying so wouldn’t do him much good. She was talking about time travel, actual time travel, which had already been proven impossible unless you were going at least the speed of light, and Barry was pretty sure he couldn’t run a mile under twenty minutes. He tried to ground himself to the now, because she had said that Central City didn’t exist and if he tried to wrap his head around that as well, he would probably pass out. “No.” He finally said with a flat tone, shaking his head before looking back at her. That was, perhaps, the most convincing part against the case she was trying to make; whoever ‘Lydia’ was, she was a very attractive woman to Barry. They were in a nice apartment, with a dog, and a pretty girl. That wasn’t Barry’s future. That was something he could definitely believe. “None of this makes sense, you - I mean, did you just wake up here too? Are you trying to figure it out too or…” he didn’t finish, but instead pressed his lips together and tried something different, his voice wavering with false confidence. “This isn’t funny, I don’t know if Woodward is hiding in the closet or something or if this is someone’s idea of a joke but it’s actually really messed up, so if someone could tell me what’s actually going on or - I can’t be out of Central City.” For the first time his voice held some sort of firmness. “I have to visit my Dad today, it’s Monday. I always go to see him on Monday’s, he’ll wonder where I am.” "Possible?" Lydia intoned. "I know. Believe me, I know." She looked a little surprised by the flat disagreement and she wasn't entirely sure what, exactly, was the part he was doubting the most. Lydia pressed her lips together and shook her head to answer his question. "I've been here a while." She looked sympathetic when he went on and chewed her bottom lip a little, frowning through it. "I don't know who Woodward is, but this isn't a joke and you are out of Central City. You're in Brooklyn, New York and it's 2015," she said gently. Her heart sank when he went on about his dad. "It's Tuesday," she corrected softly. "I don't know when you'll go back, but you will. You have to..." she added, her brow creased. She wondered if her Barry had been sent home in the interim; whether he would actually come back at all. The thought of him not coming back made her stomach turn with disappointment and a wave of worried nausea. "Barry...listen, it's gonna be okay, all right, it's gonna be fine. ...would it make you feel better if I prove that I know you? I mean, well. Barry when he's older...?" she asked, "because I can." There was an almost stubborn look of denial in Barry’s eyes when she insisted that she was right, but the tone that she was using made it very hard for Barry to believe her as a liar. He knew that scientific anomalies happened all the time, he knew that ever since he was little and he watched someone - something - kill his mother in a ball of lightning and electricity, but this… this was almost too much. She asked if he wanted to see proof, though, and Barry shook his head before really thinking about it. “No, I want to go home,” he didn’t sound angry, but his voice was starting to waver once more, because he was starting to believe her, and he didn’t know what to do. What about Joe? And Iris? What about his father? He swallowed hard and took a deep breath, continuing before she could speak. “Sorry - I’m sorry, I - yeah, if you could do that, that would be great, I don’t really - it’s not that I think that you’re a liar.” He said the last part quickly as if trying to reassure her. “That’s not it, it’s just… I’m not sure if I’m the Barry Allen you think I am because you’re really - “ he stopped short, heat rising to his cheeks once more. “I just don’t really think that I’m your boyfriend.” Lydia sighed softly, empathetic to his plight. She knew the feeling. A blasphemous part of her had grown to consider Brooklyn home and that part of her didn’t want to go back to Beacon Hills, but most of her still missed it. Most of her still wanted to be back with her mother and making sure she was safe, especially after watching the show the past couple of weeks. “I know, sweetie, we all want to go home,” she reassured quietly, tucking her hair behind her ears as Prada inched stealthily back toward Barry until his muzzle was resting on Barry’s leg. “Sorry about him, you can just push him down. He just...he’s very attached to Barry and you smell like him because you are him,” she explained. Clearing her throat, Lydia paused for a moment to decide how best to word it without being insensitive. It wasn’t definitive proof, technically, but it was probably good enough, considering. “...my boyfriend is a forensic scientist. He works for the NYPD. ...he told me it was because he wanted to solve his mother’s murder; that his dad didn’t do it and he wanted to prove that.” She nodded to the lab coat. “Those are his work clothes, he came straight from work last night because I needed...to not be alone. Monday nights are really hard for me and he’s always super supportive, but he always has to come straight from work.” For a beat, she let him absorb that before continuing. “He says that sometimes, too. That he can’t believe I’m his girlfriend,” she sympathized. “But he’s the best boyfriend I’ve ever had. I...love him, actually...a lot, because he’s so smart and I finally have someone who can keep up with me. It’s hard dating guys your age — closer to my own age — because they’re just…” she paused, pressing her lips together. “Most guys my age don’t understand a word coming out of my mouth when I talk about work. I’m a programmer at Stark Industries. Or they don’t get it or care when I want to talk about the latest book I read, or whatever but Barry likes biochemistry, too, and physics and all the sciences and I like that I have someone to talk about that stuff with, now. So...you think I wouldn’t be Barry’s girlfriend because you think I’m too pretty. I get it. ...but you’re not an unattractive guy, Bar. And you don’t grow up to be an unattractive man, either. But more importantly, you — he — gets me.” He stared at Lydia with caution in his eyes, and when she excused her dog and explained why the thing was always trying to get close to him Barry actually felt bad for moving away from it in the first place. Which was ridiculous, because he definitely wasn’t her boyfriend, even though she and the dog thought that he was. Still, he scratched Prada on the head gently when she started to speak, and he immediately thought that the forensic science thing could just be a really good coincidence, until she mentioned his mother. His hand froze on Prada’s head, and a rare flash of anger flickered through his eyes before he looked away from her with a tight jaw. No one knew that, nobody but Iris and Joe, because Barry didn’t talk about that. It was a huge part of him, yes, and the simple fact that she knew it had, in itself, immediately convinced him that something was definitely going on here, but he couldn’t stop that sudden anger from bubbling up. Not at Lydia, but at himself, or whatever version of him she had apparently fallen for. What the hell was he thinking, telling somebody about Mom and Dad? It was embarrassing. It hurt to think about and it was something that followed him every single day, but it was his. People weren’t supposed to know. No one was supposed to know. He let her continue although it was probably unnecessary, but he needed her to give him something else to concentrate on so he wouldn’t be upset with her. He was upset enough at the entire situation, he didn’t want to be mad at Lydia as well. When she explained why they got along so well, that she was a programmer and a fan of all the sciences that Barry was fascinated by, his eyes finally returned to her. They were still filled with disbelief, but not because he thought what she was saying was false; because he was having a hard time comprehending that it wasn’t. He shifted sheepishly on her bed when she told him that he wasn’t unattractive, and he would have argued with her if he had the confidence to do so, but instead he kept his doubts to himself and stared at her to indulge, for just a moment, in the idea that maybe it was possible for him to attract a woman like her in nine years. “And - and you like me?” He felt a heat rise to his face for the utmost time, his voice small as he tried to absorb everything that she was telling him. “I mean, I’m good? ...I’m a good boyfriend?” The flash of anger wasn’t lost on Lydia and it surprised her. She hadn’t ever actually seen Barry get mad. She continued on as he looked away from her, all the same, and when he finally looked back at her to speak again, Lydia gave him a small but fond smile and nodded. “Yeah, Barry. I like you a lot,” she said. “And you’re a great boyfriend. Maybe too good, since you already live here. I think we were the last ones to know or, at least, I know I was.. Even my friends noticed. ...he hasn’t stayed at his own apartment...in like three weeks…” Lydia shifted on the bed, pulling her legs up underneath herself to sit Indian style as she looked back at him. “I freaking knew you were always hot, God, he’s such a liar,” she laughed, wrinkling her nose. “Seriously, I mean you guys don’t have the same build but in the face...God, what a liar, though. You’re totally...I mean I can totally see it. I see him in your face,” she said, running a hand through her hair and smiling, shaking her head a little. Barry blinked a few times when she said that he hadn’t gone home in three weeks, and his awkward shell slipped away for a few seconds, giving in to his curiosity. “Wait, really? So we live together? Like, you and me? How long have we been together? ...Do we actually talk to each other about science a lot? I mean, did I actually get a job as a forensic scientist or is that just what he - I - want to be?” He almost rambled off at least ten more questions, but her next comment cut him off abruptly, his jaw dropping when she announced that he was a liar because, apparently, he was attractive, and that out of everything was what probably broke him more than anything else. He was suddenly very aware that he was naked other than the boxers that he had pulled on, but she still managed to drag a smile out of him, and he laughed shyly before letting his eyes drop down onto the bed as he shifted to cross his legs as well as he sat across from her. “You - I still don’t know if I believe that part. All if it, I mean, that you’re kind of willingly… with me, you know? There are a lot of really smart guys out there that don’t look like me.” He glanced up at her with the shy smile still on his face, and it wasn’t because of anything silly like an unspoken connection with the girl that he felt like he just met. It was the simple fact that … it seemed like Iris wasn’t his end all. He had been so wrapped up in her for so long that Barry never even took into consideration that he may be lovable to anybody else, someone that he was even comfortable talking about Mom to. Lydia was obviously gorgeous, way way way out of any league Barry could see himself reaching, but she was also smart, from the sound of it, and most importantly, she was kind. Her patience with him in and of itself was proof of that. Things like this - things like Lydia - didn’t happen to Barry. “You’re - I mean, you’re really pretty, I’m still not positive that I’m not being filmed or something right now.” He did wake up naked with her, though, so he supposed that there might be some truth in what she was saying. “What are the chances I find a smart, pretty girl who’s also really into chemistry nerds, right?” It was a joke, and probably a lame one, but Barry was starting to relax, a little. His adrenaline was pumping and all he wanted was to feel calm and safe again - so he let himself indulge in the idea that maybe this was his life, at least for a little while. It seemed as though her mention of the state of her current relationship with his future self seemed to break Barry out of his shell a little and Lydia smiled. "Really. Yeah, he just...kind of stopped going home. He has all his stuff here, now. His toothbrush is in my bathroom, too, and out on the coffee table, some of his work papers," she replied, shrugging. "Uh, I think like a month, give or take, we've been together. And yeah, he's actually a forensic scientist, he works for the NYPD," she repeated gently, noting that he'd probably missed it when she'd said it the first time on account of that flash of anger she'd caught. His comment, in spite of the levity that had preceded it, made Lydia knit her brow. "You don't think you're attractive and I don't know why; I think older you even still doubts himself sometimes. But you are. You're a good looking guy, Barry, and you're a good looking man in a few years. Give yourself more credit." A slight blush crept into Lydia's cheeks at his compliment and she smiled again. "Thank you," she replied graciously. "Slim. Very slim, but here I am," she added playfully, winking. "...do you want to stay here? I mean, while you're stuck in this universe, do you want to stay here with me, so you don't have to be all by yourself? I don't mind," she offered. Barry’s eyes widened in surprise when she said that they were only dating for a month and yet they were already living together, but for some reason that just made everything better to him. Thank god for alternate universes, he supposed, because there was no way this would have ever happened to him back home. Absolutely no way. She lightly scolded him for not giving himself enough credit on his looks, and Barry waved his hand gently at her, shrugging one shoulder before giving a little smile once more. “I don’t think I’m hideous or anything but, I mean… alright, not to be weird or anything but look at you. No one at home would believe me if I said I was able to get a girlfriend that looked like you.” He purposely didn’t say ‘none of my friends’, because Barry didn’t really have any… he didn’t want to think about home, though. He knew that he was going to have to find a way back to his father and Joe, and if there was a time paradox that dragged him here there had to be one that would pull him back, but for now he didn’t want to think of it. He’d probably have an anxiety attack if he did. He blushed at her offer to stay and he responded a little faster than he probably should have. “Yeah! I - yeah, I mean, yeah, that would be really great if that’s okay with you. I could… you know, I can sleep on the couch or something if it makes you more comfortable, I know that I’m not - well, I am, but I know that I’m not…” Barry gave a general gesture with his hand, and he circled it in front of his face with another sheepish smile. “So I’d get it.” Lydia lifted her eyebrows in challenge. “If you think I’ve never heard that exact response before, you are sadly mistaken, buddy,” she told him, lifting her chin slightly with confidence before smiling at his eagerness to respond to her offer. “It’s totally fine with me. I’m not home a whole lot during the day, but I could give you some money and you could check out the city if you wanted. Or maybe Tony will let me bring you to work with me, since I’m not in the chem labs, anymore,” she said, mostly thinking aloud, her eyes shifting away from his face and out at nothing in particular. At his offer to sleep on the couch, Lydia shook her head. “No, it’s fine. The bed’s big and I actually don’t think older you would mind,” she said, looking back at him. “Probably should just leave it at...you know, sleeping, when we’re in bed together but I think it’ll be okay if you share the bed, sweetie.” “Well prepare to hear it a lot more because that’s something I don’t think I’ll ever change my mind about. Because seriously, you’re… yeah. Wow.” Barry couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief, shaking his head as he stared at her. When she continued to tell him that she would probably be at work and she could give him money or bring him, Barry frowned a little. “Sorry,” he started a little ashamedly, “I’d use my own money but I sort of… woke up naked, I don’t know if my wallet came with me.” His face had fallen a little in blank confusion when she said that sleeping should be all that they did, and his eyes narrowed a little in thought. “What else would we- OH!” Barry somehow managed to look shocked and afraid both at the same time. “No! No, I would never - I wouldn’t ever try something like that, oh God, no, no no, I wouldn’t - no, you don’t have to worry about that, I wouldn’t try to do anything to you that would be… no way. I’m not that kind of guy, I know that you’re kind of sort of dating someone else, sorta.” Besides, making a move on a woman who looked like Lydia Martin? That was a big no-can-do for a seventeen year old virgin named Barry Allen. “I don’t want you to feel like you’re obligated to treat me nicely, is all, it’s really nice of you to let me stay.” He tried to recover from his admittedly borderline-panicked response, almost shrinking a little to try and make himself seem smaller than he was. “But I would never try to t-touch you, I know I’m Barry but it’s probably really different, so… no, I wouldn’t do that.” Lydia huffed her amusement at his response. She knew she was pretty but she couldn’t help thinking that young Barry reminded her a lot of Stiles before they’d become friends. “Don’t be. It’s not your fault,” she replied flippantly. “I don’t mind. Honey, I make a shitload of money. It’s not gonna break my bank to lend you some while you’re here,” she reassured him. And, to her, the money she made working for Stark was a shitload, considering she was an eighteen-year-old who had no actual degree yet. She blinked rapidly, taken a little aback by his practical panic attack in response to her. Lydia held one hand up but it didn’t seem to stop him from rushing to word vomit out reassurances that he wasn’t going to try anything. So, she lowered her hand and let him finish. “I don’t feel obligated,” she replied with a shrug. “I don’t do obligated. ...you’re going to learn really fast that I don’t do anything I don’t want to do. Ever. And also I’m going to have to take you shopping because the only outfit of his that I have probably won’t fit you very well and even if it did...his work clothes are so blah, blech,” she replied, wrinkling her nose. Lydia’s eyebrows raised slightly as he finally concluded the reassurances. “Well...that doesn’t really work for me,” she said flatly, giving a facial shrug. “You can’t not touch me. I can’t sleep by myself anymore, he spoiled me. So how you woke up this morning? That’s how we’re going to sleep because I need my beauty rest, you don’t think I just always wake up looking this amazing, do you?” she asked. “We’ll keep clothes on, though, I mean...but other than that. So yeah, you’re going to have to touch me, I can’t sleep without…” she trailed off. “I just can’t sleep, so we’ll make it work.” Barry tilted his head to the side a little when Lydia insisted that she didn’t mind lending him money, and when she continued with suggestions - no, demands - that she bring him shopping and insisted that she didn’t do anything that she didn’t want to do, Barry’s stare went a little hazy. For some reason the way that she spoke with such finality with him was… actually kind of attractive. Alright, really attractive, and Barry didn’t know why. He didn’t really want to think too hard on it. “Okay. If you want me to wear different clothes then I don’t mind, I’ll do that… whatever you think looks good on me.” He’d probably do whatever she wanted him to do, because even though Lydia didn’t technically love him, Barry sure as hell wasn’t going to screw something like this up for his future self. No way. He knew how finicky time paradoxes could be, there was a slim possibility that Lydia was actually in his own future, and he would be really pissed if a little version of himself screwed that up. At her second demand, however, Barry’s eyes widened, his lips parting a little as he looked around like there were other people in the room listening to them. There obviously weren’t, but he still lowered his voice when he responded anyway. “You mean just like… holding you…?” He knew that it was a simple request and he felt like an idiot looking so nervous about it, but Barry had never shared a bed with a girl before. He certainly never slept next to one (purposefully now, he supposed), and the idea of falling asleep with Lydia in his arms, and the possibility that his own body would… betray him… was only a little terrifying. “If - if you want me to, I can do that, okay. ...What if - no, okay, yeah, that’s fine. Totally fine.” “Well, you don’t want to be swimming in his clothes, anyway,” Lydia replied casually. “Plus, I don’t have a key to his place, so literally you’d just have to wear the one outfit over and over and that won’t do.” She grinned to herself. Yeah, she was calling out of work today and taking him to the nearest mall. This was going to be so much fun. ...maybe not so much for him, but...still. He owed her for Comic-Con, anyway. At his question, lowered voice and all, Lydia gave him another fond smile and nodded. “Yeah. Like holding me. I kind of need that, now…” she admitted with a flash of her own sheepishness. “‘What if’ what?” she prodded, because if he had a concern, then Lydia wanted to address it and get it out of the way. “Are they that much bigger?” He sounded strangely hopeful about that. “I mean, what, does he work out a lot? Like, he’s bigger than me? Is he taller, too?” He actually wanted to ask her a lot of things about his future self but he wasn’t sure if any of them would be appropriate, so Barry kept the questions to himself for now. He nodded. “Okay, we’ll go shopping. ...Those are his clothes on the floor, right? Does he wear sweatervests?” The poor boy actually sounded excited about it. When she pressed him Barry shook his head silently, pushing his lips together for a few seconds. “No, nothing.” He responded unconvincingly. “It’s nothing, I’ll hold you as much as you want me to. I… definitely won’t say no to that.” He smiled a little, but it faded as she stared at him expectantly. “...I’ve just never shared a bed with a girl. Is all.” Maybe that would be enough for her to guess what he meant? ...He hoped it was. Because he really didn’t want to speak his concerns aloud. “Yeah...they’re quite a bit bigger,” she admitted. “...something like that,” she replied vaguely, because she was almost positive that telling him about the Flash was a poor life decision and would almost definitely make his head explode, if he even believed it. “He’s taller, yeah.” Her eyes shifted to the pile of clothes on the floor and the excitement in his voice when he asked about sweatervests made Lydia actually physically wince. “...yeah those are his. He...does. For now. I’ll fix it, though,” she replied, “he’s a work in progress,” she added with a smirk and a playful wink when he looked back at her. “He needs a little help in the fashion department. If, by a little, I mean holy shit, it’s like he tries to hide behind his clothes,” she replied, climbing out of the bed, now that she was thinking about it, to fold his things so they wouldn’t wrinkle too much worse than they probably already had. She forgot that she was still only in a tank top and a pair of panties, because it was an awful lot more than she wore in her bedroom normally, Barry or no. Looking over her shoulder as she stood at the dresser folding, Lydia lifted an eyebrow when he pressed on to say that he would hold her as much as she wanted, but didn’t actually point out the thing that was bothering him. But then he went on and Lydia nodded with a silent “ooohhhh,” as she turned to finish folding Barry’s work pants and made her way back to the bed, climbing back into it and sitting Indian style again, facing him. “So you’re worried...yeah, I get it. It happens. It’s whatever, sweetie,” she replied casually with a shrug. “I’ll only ever take it as a compliment, trust me.” There was undeniable disappointment in his eyes when Lydia went on to actually complain about the sweatervests, because he thought that they looked pretty great, but he wasn’t going to argue with her. Whatever she wanted from him she could definitely have, and if she wanted him to dislike sweatervests then that’s exactly what he would do. “Okay. Whatever you think will look good on me, I’ll just go with your judgement,” he insisted, and he thought that he was doing pretty well with the whole ‘keep your eyes on her face’ thing until she started to move, and then finally stand. Barry was ashamed at how quickly his eyes dropped to her long legs and, admittedly, her backside when she started to move around the room, and he had only heard half of what she was saying as she started folding clothes in nothing more than a thin tank top and a pair of panties. His mouth was hanging open and he snapped it shut quickly when he realized, eyes big as he stared at her, and he quickly reached out for the pillow that he had grabbed when he first woke up to slowly drag it and settle it in his lap. ...For comfort reasons, obviously. Nothing more. He forced himself to look back up at her face when she started to move to the bed again, and for the first time in his life Barry very much wanted to be twenty six. He wanted to be twenty six more than he had wanted almost anything else in his life. He nodded quickly when she said that he wouldn’t have to worry, and it did make him feel a little better because now he was absolutely positive that it would end up happening. “Alright. I just wanted to make sure that I wouldn’t… make you uncomfortable. Like I said, I’ve never been in a situation like this before. You know, in such closed quarters with another girl, I live with Iris but we have our own rooms, so…” “You’re going to have to put on his clothes for us to go out. ...actually, no, I bet you’d fit in Stiles’s clothes better, I’ll call him and see if I can borrow something of his until we can get you your own stuff. We’ll go a little later. I’m going to need to shower and if you want to, you can too, before we go,” she replied casually. The fact that he had a pillow in his lap when she returned to the bed wasn’t lost on her and it was, admittedly, a little endearing that he thought he needed it, even if maybe he hadn’t after all, but Lydia pretended not to notice it there, all the same. “You won’t,” she promised. “It’s fine. Besides, the longer you’re stuck here, the less it’ll happen, I’m sure,” she added, shrugging. “You’ll get used to me. Novelty will wear off and all that,” she finished. “...are you hungry?” she asked suddenly. “I could make us breakfast. Usually, we don’t have time to eat breakfast, we both have to get to work so early, but I’m not going in today, clearly, so...yeah. Hungry?” He was relieved when she had changed her mind and said she had to go to a Stiles or something to get him clothes, because he certainly wasn’t ready to move just yet, and it wasn’t helping that she was being so casual with her phrasing. “Yeah, I’ll take a shower.” He nodded, and he was glad that he phrased it the way that he did because his mind had immediately gone to the illogical conclusion of showering with Lydia and that was when Barry knew this would be the most difficult week of his life. He shook his head quickly when she said that the novelty would wear off. “No.” He said bluntly, and he had never sounded so sure about anything. “Yeah no, that’s not going to happen, sorry. You’re… okay, you’re hot, and you’re really smart, you’re a programmer, and you’ve got a really cute smile. I don’t think you understand that these are all things that I - yeah. Really like. ...And if he told you about Mom then he obviously trusts you. A lot. So I know that that is a thing, you’re pretty much an -” He stopped himself. “No, the ‘novelty’ isn’t going off any time soon.” He gave a weak nod, but he didn’t seem to make a move to get up yet. “Yeah I’m a little hungry. Do you want me to make you breakfast? It’s the least I can do, you’re letting me stay in your home until we figure all of this out…” “Well, okay then. You can shower, I’ll call Stiles and make breakfast and while you’re eating yours, I’ll take a shower and then we’ll go,” she chirped. That was simple enough, she thought. Her eyebrows lifted a little when he bluntly disagreed with her, but when he went on, she smiled and ducked her head a little before lifting it again. “You might surprise yourself,” she replied gently, getting back off the bed and crossing the room once more to pull an outfit out of the closet for herself. When she spoke, it was over her shoulder. “You are really going to have to stop doing that,” she said loftily, “the thing with not finishing your sentences. You know that leaves your audience hanging?” she asked, finally seeming satisfied with her choices and pulling the bedroom door open. “Well come on, I’ll show you how to work the shower. It’s kind of tricky, sometimes,” she said, gesturing for him to follow her. He nodded as she listed off her plans, seeing no problem with the way that she laid things out, and he couldn’t help but smile a little bit when she said that he might surprise himself. He highly doubted it. Lydia didn’t seem to realize just how impossible she seemed to be to him, and that was either because his life had changed drastically in the future or his future self didn’t tell her enough. Heat rose to his cheeks when she called him out on not finishing his sentence, and he gave a shy laugh before scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “I just thought it would sound really lame and I don’t want to… you know, ruin things.” He hesitated for a few seconds. “You’re kind of brushing off how intense this is for me, not… in a bad way, I just don’t think you get it.” He continued, because he didn’t want to sound like he was doubting her intelligence, not at all. “I know that I’ve probably had a couple of girlfriends before you when I get older, but as of right now there’s -” he trailed off, still sitting in the middle of her bed as he tried to figure out how he could word himself without sounding as pathetic as he felt about it all. “There’s this one girl that I really like. And she’s the only girl that I’ve ever really liked for a really long time. And she’s always dating other guys and I know in the back of my mind that it’s not going to work, you know what I mean?” His gaze lifted a little to meet Lydia’s eyes, and he forced a soft smile. “Like, I know that but I can never make myself act on it. I’ve had opportunities but it’s been impossible to take them, because they weren’t Iris. And then I guess you come along, for me me, at least, and knowing that I actually move on… I don’t know.” He gave a lame shrug, his gaze falling again. “Sometimes I get scared that I’m never going to find someone because all I can think about is her. Seeing that I find someone who’s good for me, who I like… live with, practically, and care about, it’s nice to know that someone eventually frees me of that. I was going to call you an angel, but I didn’t want to sound really… you know, stupid.” He finally shifted, having calmed down enough to get out of her bed and he finally made his way over to her in the doorway, looking down at her. “So whenever he tells you that he can’t believe he got you just… I dunno. I think it runs a lot deeper than you know.” “I’m brushing it off because calling more attention to it is only going to make you more uncomfortable,” Lydia replied matter-of-factly, lifting an eyebrow as if to challenge him to contradict her when she was ninety-nine percent sure she was right. Lydia stayed quiet, letting him divulge to her whatever he felt fit for her to know about feeling the way he felt. She already knew most of it, because before she and Barry had actually become a couple, they’d been screwing up friends with benefits by spending the night with one another and talking each other’s ears off about everything under the sun. Iris, too, was under the sun, as it were. Though, when he filled in the blank, Lydia smiled and a fondness was there in her eyes as she did, nodding toward the hall. “He calls me that. Angel, that’s what he calls me,” she confessed. “And I know...but it’s fresher for you than it is for him. You’re gonna be just fine, Barry Allen,” she promised. Barry returned her fond smile with one of his own when she confirmed that the name was an actual thing, because he really was nervous that he would end up embarrassing himself, but it was good to know that he didn’t do so as badly as he had thought he would. He nodded at her reassurance, and although in that moment he wasn’t completely sure if she was right or not, he at least knew that he would be safe with someone who knew him. Who probably knew him better than he did. “I always am, in the end.” He responded playfully, and when he passed her in the doorway he leaned down to plant a little kiss of thanks on the very top of her head before leading her down the hall where he assumed the bathroom was. All Barry wanted was to be back home, but if he couldn’t have that right away, then staying with Lydia was definitely going to be the next best thing. |