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( the heat, the hurried roughness of all this, is almost refreshing in its messiness. there's no need for any flirtation, no dancing around what they know will inevitably happen, no teasing — just his body suddenly pressing hers into the door, her chin tipped up so she can keep kissing him, hard and a little dirty.
everything's fast with barry, by nature of who he is — but the rush of it all leaves sara a little breathless when he pulls back for a moment. she pants hard, pupils dilated as she looks up at him through her lashes, feels his fingertips against the line of exposed skin where her shirt rode up in all the excitement.
this is a bad idea, and sara knows it; it's not going to help either of them in the long run, not going to make it easier to get over what the two of them both lost, but — god, she knows how bad she hurts and knows that barry hurts like she does. at the very least, at least they can lose themselves in each other, if only for a little while — which is why her hands are quick to take over for barry's, obeying his off command despite him already getting an impatient head start, undoing the zipper and bending her knees so she can tug them off along with her boots and socks. it's all left in a messy pile practically underfoot still because now she's just in her underwear and a t-shirt and she just really wants barry to fill the absence of his body heat from that five seconds apart. )
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