Summary: It’s been two hours since they started fighting, and neither Barry nor Oliver can’t even remember what the initial argument was about. All Barry knows is that Oliver is in the wrong, and Barry’s hardly going to apologise for it.
Words: 2,388
Rating: Explicit
“You know, when you think about it, this is your fault, really.”
Barry rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. It’s been two hours since they started fighting – one and a half hours since Cisco called about the meta on the loose – and if he’s being completely honest with himself, he can’t even remember what the initial argument was about. All he knows is that Oliver is in the wrong, and Barry’s hardly going to apologise for it.
Before he can even whip out a retort, though, another crack of lightning is sent in Oliver’s direction, and Barry moves in the speed of light, knocking his husband out of harms way and onto the floor, before whirling to meet the eyes of the meta. “Do you mind? You’re kinda interrupting something here,” he quips, although he doesn’t quite feel the humour of it himself, so he can’t really blame the guy for not showing any amusement on his expression.
“I’m not so sure he appreciated your joke, Bar.” Oliver grumbles, struggling to his feet without even a thank you for saving his damn life.
“Alright, look, we can stand here and argue, or we can actually deal with this guy and go home. Your choice, Oliver.”