idk if prompts are still open but you should do some good good blupjeans reunion, like right when she gets her body back
((how did you know i was thinking about this last night hot diggity shit)
Lup takes her first steps, and Barry’s heart seizes.
She’s dripping wet, hair a mess, no makeup and no gaudy fashion, and she is the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. He hands her a towel with shaking hands, body acting on autopilot, eyes darting over her face.
Their eyes lock and she grins.
A century ago, Barry learned to tell the twins apart. The others couldn’t do it, at first, but Barry could. The key was to look past the shared clothing, past the identical mannerisms, past the unique speech patterns. They had the same eyes and same build and same loud, snorting laugh, but their smiles were so different. Taako’s grin was gap-toothed and wide and charming, born out of years of batting his eyelashes in hopes of a hot meal, but Lup’s was sharper, more dangerous, chipped left incisor and wicked intention. Barry learned to make the twins laugh so he could tell them apart, and in doing so fell in love with the way Lup’s mouth curled around glee, turned up at the corners when she called him babe and honey and handsome, at first as teasing insults but then as so much more.
“Hi,” she says, voice all gravel and dust from disuse. She takes a wobbly step toward Barry.
“Hi yourself,” he chokes out, and oh gods, he’s crying. There are tears in his voice and dripping down his cheeks, and he would be embarrassed if this weren’t Lup, the love of all his lives, the woman who has seen him cry and laugh and die on more than one occasion. They’ve been through everything, the two of them. Barry can deal with Lup seeing him cry.
“Don’t cry,” she scolds, but she’s crying too. They must have the same thought at the same time, because all of a sudden they’re holding one another, too tight to be comforting but just tight enough to reassure themselves that yes, they’re really here, they really did make it. Barry buries his face in her shoulder and lets himself sob, shaking and shuddering, and Lup digs her fingers into the skin on his back so forcefully that he knows he’s going to have bruises.
“I love you,” he says, when he can finally get words out past the knot of joy and loss and unnamed emotion in his chest.
Lup laughs and pulls back, drying her eyes with the back of a hand. “I love you, too. Barold J. Bluejeans, my savior.”
Barry laughs, and Lup laughs, and then end up giggling so hard that they have to sit down on the cool tile, in a puddle of water from the regeneration chamber, arms around one another. It’s the laugh of people who have lived for over a century under the constant threat of death and destruction, and are suddenly faced with nothing but time.
“We’re gonna get married, like, pronto,” Lup says.
“We’re already married,” Barry points out. “Like, eight times.”
Lup fixes him with a Look, the one that means harebrained schemes and wild consequences. “Barry, babe, this body has never known the touch of a man. I aim to rectify immediately.”
They kiss exactly one whole time, and then sit together and cry for several more hours.