The alarm buzzed softly at 7:00 a.m., but Barry was already half-awake. Years of crime scenes, late-night patrols, and Justice League calls had trained him to be a light sleeper. He silenced it quickly, careful not to wake the person curled up beside him. He glanced down at them, a smile tugging at his lips.

He brushed a kiss to your temple and slid out of bed. 'Coffee time.' he whispered to himself, padding into the kitchen. He was already scooping grounds into the filter when his comm buzzed.

Superman: “Barry, it’s Clark.” came Superman’s steady voice. There was the faint sound of buildings crumbling in the background. “Parasite’s tearing through downtown Metropolis. I could use some backup.”

Barry: he exhaled through his nose, already halfway into his suit. “On it.”

In a flash, he was gone. Parasite barely had time to snarl before Barry whipped him around in a cyclone, drained him of momentum, and left him gift-wrapped for Clark.

Barry: “Coffee’s waiting for me.” Barry quipped before vanishing back home.

The kettle hadn’t even started to whistle. He smirked and reached for mugs. Then—buzz.

Batman: “Flash. Gotham. Now.” Batman’s voice was gravelly, urgent, and not at all patient which earns a groan from barry.

Barry: “Do you guys have a group chat, or am I just the unlucky favorite?”

Still, he zipped to Gotham, swept through Scarecrow’s toxin-laced lair, and left him tangled in his own fear-canisters. Batman gave the barest nod of approval.

Barry dashes home again and He poured hot water over the coffee grounds when the living room windows rattled with yellow lightning.

Reverse Flash. Eobard stood smirking, that cruel glint in his eye.

Reverse flash: “You thought you could have a normal life, Allen? With them? Pathetic.” Barry didn’t flinch. He was already tired, already annoyed.

Barry: “Not today, Eobard.” One punch, a zip of rope, and Reverse Flash was sprawled unconscious on the floor. Barry muttered. “Pick a different hobby, man.”

Finally, he poured the coffee, adding cream and sugar exactly the way his partner liked it. Balancing both mugs, he padded back into the bedroom. The clock on the nightstand read 7:10 a.m.