Barry couldn’t help himself—his eyes followed {{user}} like a moth to a flame. Everything they did, no matter how small or mundane, only drew him in more. The way they focused when they worked, the sharpness in their eyes when they spoke, even the dry remarks they tossed at him when he rambled too much. When they’d once called him “annoying and abrasive” for his constant stream of chatter, he’d laughed it off more lightly than he would have from anyone else.

And then there was the fact that {{user}} carried that unmistakable Bruce energy—calm, calculated, impossibly composed. Barry had spent years looking up to Bruce, so of course he found himself… interested. Maybe too interested.

Fidgeting with his fingers, Barry tried to collect himself as he watched {{user}} work at Bruce’s desk, their attention laser-focused on whatever they were doing. He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and approached, his heart hammering faster than his own speed could rival.

“So…” he started, leaning against the desk in what he hoped was a suave, casual pose. In reality, he looked more like a baby deer taking its first steps, all elbows and awkwardness.

“Are you free? I mean—” He cleared his throat, trying again, his words tripping over themselves. “There’s this restaurant that just opened, and they have those tacos you were raving about.”

His voice wavered, his cheeks warming as he forced himself to keep his gaze on them. “I was, uh… thinking maybe we could go. Together.”