Warnings none Spoilers Nada
Disclaimer All publicly recognizable characters, settings, plot, etc. are the property of the creators of the TV show How I Met Your Mother (HIMYM). Any original characters, settings and plots are the property of devylish. devylish is in no way associated with the TV show HIMYM and no copyright infringement is intended. This work is an amateur fan effort and no profit is being made.
AN unbeta'd AN2 Can be read as a standalone, or as part seven of my marshallsdeadverse. The other fics in the verse are Not Breathing, and Barely Afloat, Breathing You, Unspoken, Change and Explosions.
She watched him pad out of the bathroom, bare assed, and uninhibited. Her half closed eyes followed him to the foot of the bed where he stooped to pick up his robe which had fallen/been kicked to the floor during last night's activities. She closed her eyes as he slipped on the robe and exited the bedroom.
He would go to the kitchen next, put on the coffee, go to the front door and collect his paper.
He was a creature of habit. Surprisingly so.
He always wore his robe to get his paper from the hall. He didn't like to speak in the morning until he'd had his first sip of Langebourne Kenyan coffee. He had to sleep on the right side of his bed. Her bed, he accepted the left side without murmur. But his bed? It had to be the right side.
See, creature of habit.
She curled into the middle of the bed, burying her head in his pillow and breathing in.
She had a few more minutes before the coffee would be done, so she breathed in again, taking his scent in and wondering if he ever did the same thing; if he ever leaned over her pillow, after she'd left the bed, and searched for her fragrance. She hoped so. It would make this wordless nameless thing that they had, two-sided. It would mean he was as lost as she was.
And that would be nice.
It would be nice to be lost together.
They'd spent the last three weeks being a couple. Unannounced to the world. Unannounced to themselves. But a couple nonetheless. They spent every night together; dinner, movies, theatre, television at home, and then… to bed; in the bedroom where very little sleeping was done.
Sleeping with one another wasn't a new experience for them, but the companionship; the public coupledom, that was new. For the past three weeks, in front of everyone except for Robin and Ted, they had been 'a couple'. Replete with hand holding, arms around waists, pecks on the cheek – a couple.
Perhaps it was the fact that they were spending all of their time at Barney's apartment. Using his space as a… a … new, neutral ground. A space where there was no ghost of Marshall. A space where there were no tears. All that existed was the two of them. Barney and Lily.
They still didn't talk to one another about their… relationship. About her fears. Or about his feelings of unworthiness. They didn't even really think about those things. Ignorance was bliss, and words… well….
Pulling her still tired frame out of his bed, she studied the clothes that lay on the floor; uncomfortable and impractical skirt, fitted sweater shirt, lace panties – his favorite -- and bra. None of them looked particularly appealing at the moment, so she went with her second option. Opening his bottom dresser drawer, she pawed through his pajamas, finally finding the pair she wanted. Pulling out the top, she draped the blue green silky material over her shoulders, and slipped her arms into the armholes; buttoning the bottom four buttons as she wandered into the kitchen.
She ran her hand through her hair in a quick attempt to tame it before going to the cabinet closest to the sink. Standing on tiptoe, she pulled two mugs out. Pulling cream out of the refrigerator, she poured a light amount into Barney's cup before scooping sugar into both of their mugs.
She smiled when the coffeemaker gave a light buzz indicating that the coffee was ready. Perfect timing.
She filled both cups with the dark fragrant brew and carefully headed into living room.
He was sitting on the couch, paper in hand and lap, reading something that she was fairly certain wouldn't interest her in the least.
She put their cups on the coffee table before sitting down next to him and collecting the pieces of the paper he'd set aside that weren't important to him. Pulling out the comics, she pulled her knees up onto the couch letting them rest on his thighs, and she started to read.
They sat like that for a half an hour. She made it through the comics, the entertainment section, and had just started the editorials, when Barney folded his paper and dropped it on to the table. "So do you want to do anything special today?"
Dropping her own paper, she perched on her knees and placed one hand on his chest as she swung a leg over his thighs and settled onto his lap. "I had one or two ideas in mind."
He smirked his 'I'm gonna get some' smirk. "Your mind is a wonderful, wonderful place."
She bent forward and rested her lips against his, speaking at the same time that she nibbled at his lips. "I have many wonderful places Stinson."
"Can I go exploring?"
"Sorry, me first." She slid off of his lap and onto the floor in front of him. Moving her hands to the tie of his robe, she tugged it loose. A fleeting thought, a comparison between his physique and Marshall's flitted through her mind. It wasn't the first time she'd made the comparison, and she doubted it would be the last. It was, however, the first time that the comparison didn't make her feel guilty; as if she was betraying Marshall.
It was also the first time that the comparison between the two men who were so different, yet both, so important to her, didn't hurt.
She didn't analyze the lack of pain; analysis would lead to the discovery of things that she still wasn't quite ready to address.
No, instead of analysis, she focused on the task – Barney -- at hand.
His robe open, his body was bared to her and she glanced up at him as she moved forward and tipped her head to his stomach. Her tongue tip moved along his abs, tracing the outline of his six-pack.
As her mouth moved along his stomach, she let her hands travel to his already semi-erect cock. Her fingers were cool along his length, and she could feel him shudder, ever so slightly in response. With her second hand she cupped him, massaging his heavy testicles.
She let her head drop lower on his body, approaching her goal following a slow, leisurely, teasing trail.
"Baby…" He spoke in a half a gasp, half whisper.
"Nuh uh," she whispered and paused in her ministrations, "No talking. If you speak, I'll have to stop, and you wouldn't want that… would you?"
His eyes partially closed peered down at her. "Nu--," he caught himself and stopped speaking, simply shaking his head 'no'.
She grinned ingenuously, and moved back to her… task.
When her mouth finally reached the thick, head of Barney's cock, she looked up at him again.
Words were… not enough.
They truly weren't.
They didn't describe the width and breadth. The depth, the intensity of everything – anything – she felt about/around him.
His taste, for instance. Words couldn't explain, couldn't describe, the salt, the bitter, the fullness.
Words couldn't paint the pleasure she took from imbibing him; from his taste, from seeing him – almost helpless – beneath her hungry lips.
Even the flavour of just his skin, the feel of his length moving like hot silk underneath her tongue….
Words were not enough.
His hips lifted, his muscles tightening and flexing while his hand caged in her hair, grasped/held, demanded/gave.
Finally clutching her head and holding it in the perfect spot, he came; releasing warm, thick, ropes of his essence into her throat. And as he came, her name, "Lilllllllllly" rasped out of his throat.
Perhaps, some words…, some words were just enough.