Have you ever wanted something so bad that you just can’t have? When Barry was younger, he always wanted a puppy. Joe never got him one though; he said it was a big responsibility, too big for a ten year old. Now, he still wants a puppy, but not as much as he wants to be able to walk again.
This weekend is his second date with you and to say he is freaking out is an understatement. He knows he should technically be doing his job, yet, there isn’t many cases in need of forensics. So, he decides to, at least, do something productive. In one swift motion, after turning the chair off, he tugs himself up by grabbing the wood wall.
Okay, okay, he’s got this. He grips the small light gray handle of the crutch, feeling the plastic circle cling to his forearm, just below his brunched up green sweater, and leans away from the wall. A broad smile spreads across the lower half of his face, eyes squinted with happiness. He’s standing! Holding back a manly squeal, he focuses on his unmoving legs.
Biting his lower lip, he tries to send signals from his brain to his legs. Nothing happens, sadly, which, of course, frustrates him. “Come on, come on, please.” he begs to his limbs. Maybe if he moves the crutch first, then his legs will follow? Yeah, yeah, that sounds like it will work.
Testing his theory, he picks up the left crutch, placing it in front of him, followed by the other one and…his legs still don’t fucking move. Instead, because he has most, if not all, of his weight on the two metal poles, he tumbles forward, face hitting the dark stone floor. Out of frustration, and the fact that, ow, that hurt, tears spill from his eyes, replicating the rain outside.
Footsteps echo through the empty hallways at a fast pace and Joe runs through the huge doorway. “Barry!” he cries out, black suit jacket flying around his torso. If he didn’t hold so much over him, manly being his foster father, Barry would scream for him to get out. That he wants to wallow in self-pity alone. “What were you thinkin’, boy?” he questions in his famous ‘dad’ voice; tie wrinkling as he picks up his son. It’s like fifth grade all over again…
Tears still stream down Barry’s flushed cheeks. God, he’s so mad! An angry huff escapes him when he’s back in his cramped wheelchair. “I was thinking I want to walk, Joe!” he sobs in frustration. Joe’s face softens and there’s something glimmering in his eyes; Barry swears it’s pity for a moment.
“Is this about your date-”
“Yes, Joe! It is!” Barry fumes, fighting with the sleeve of his sweater. Just fucking roll up my elbow already… Joe sighs, rubbing his temple; he hates seeing his son so…infuriated. “Is it so much to ask to be able to walk, Joe?! Is it?!” he asks, practically hitting himself in the face while trying to dry his cheeks.
The detective rubs a hand over his face, shaking his head. “Barr, I know - well, I don’t. I don’t know what you’re going through. I’m not going to even pretend like I know what you’re going through, okay? Just… you gotta let me in, son. I can’t read your mind.” he admits, waving one of his hand for emphasis; the other rests on his hip, above his gold CCPD badge.
Barry sighs, starting to calm himself down. It really helps that Joe has this smooth, silky, calming voice; only a few fathers have that quality. “I’m, um, taking Y/N to the park, because they, you know, have those lights that you can walk through? And, I…I don’t know, Joe, I just…” he trails off, letting his hands fall limp on his lap.
Then, it all makes sense. “You wanted to be able to walk with her?” Barry nods, “To hold her?” Joe arches an eyebrow; Barry nods again. “To be able to lean down at the right moment and kiss her -”
“Okay, Joe, now you’re really starting to bum me out.”
Maybe that was too far. “Sorry.” the detective mutters, clapping his son’s shoulder, shaking him slightly. Barry suddenly feels like a bobblehead. “You’ll figure it out, Barr, I know you will. Besides, she likes you for you. Just calm down, okay? Don’t stress yourself out.” Yeah, that’s easier said than done.
He peers around the park for you, undoing the top button of his gray petticoat. Don’t check the watch, don’t check the watch and…he checks the watch. At least he’s not late. There’s five more minutes - did he just hear his name? No, no, he’s probably imagining things because he’s so nervous.
Unexpectedly, a pair of arms wrap around his chest, hugging him from behind. He cranes his neck, smiling when he notices your face in his shoulder. “Hey there.” he giggles, suddenly feeling you let go.
You fix your gray hat on your hair, black flower print dress flowing around your warm leggings; Barry almost dies. “I missed you…” you admit in a quiet voice, clasping your white gloves together nervously. He blushes all the way to his chest, stumbling over his words. “This is very romantic; the lights, I mean. I love all the different colors and how they all come together to create something much bigger…” you trail off, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
Barry, with his mouth ajar, nods. That was beautiful. “Yeah, me too…” he mutters in a daze, eyes focused on you - not your pale pink lips that look - no. “You, um, are you ready?” he asks awkwardly, pointing to the entrance; you nod, starting to walk while he drives beside you. Good thing he remembered to charge his wheelchair.
When you pass by the first light design and stop, he grows anxious. Did he fuck this date up already? “Can you - don’t answer if you don’t want to - can you feel your legs?” you wonder, gazing at him with big Y/C/E eyes; he shakes his head slowly, uncertain about where this conversation is heading. Grinning, you climb on his lap, dress fanning on the foam armrest. “Is - is this okay?” you question timidly, wrapping your arm around his neck.
Don’t get a boner right now, dude. Keeping his composer, he nods, smiling at you. He pushes the joystick forward, watching you admire the majestic light display. A giggle leaves his lips while you point at a Grinch light, eyes blown wide in amazement. He doesn’t pay much attention to the lights. Instead, he focuses on you; how the multicolored lights cast shadows on your face, how he has one hand on your waist, holding you to him.
It isn’t a huge display; it takes roughly fifteen minutes to arrive at the end. You face him, grinning from ear to ear. That was a fun ride. His green orbs outline your plump pink lips in a daze and for a minute, he feels like any ordinary guy on a date. With that surge of confidence, he leans forward, upper lip connecting to your lower one.
The kiss doesn’t last for long, but Barry, as cliche as it sounds, felt fireworks. Or heard fireworks. One of the two. He pulls back, sure that your lipstick is now on his lips, and blinks, refocusing his eyes on your blush.
“Are you sure? It means having to be all fancy and have a very good sense of drama.” When Castiel didn’t seem impressed by his warning, Dean put a hand on his shoulder. “Besides, you’re gonna have to learn how to wear a tie properly.”