(no subject)
Title: Catch Me While I'm Sleeping
Author: GypsyJr
Fandom: How I Met Your Mother
Pairing: Barney/Robin, established relationship
Warnings: Pure unadulterated fluff. Spoilers for ep. 4.14
Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction, and no copyright infringement or disrespect is intended.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: After living his life turned up to 11, Barney learns to appreciate the quiet moments.
He'd never admit it to anyone else, but Barney has a favorite part of the nights he spends with Robin.
It's not the obvious one, though their sex life is undeniably legendary. It's an understatement bordering on insanity to say that he's slept with a lot of women, but there's something different about going to bed with someone he actually cares about. He's looking forward to getting used to it.
It's not the afterglow either, though that's almost as awesome in its own unfamiliar way. Following their usual routine, Robin's settled down next to him, too far away to cuddle but close enough to lean her head against his and rest a hand on his chest. It's the perfect distance, comforting without being clingy, and one of these days he's going to ask her how she does it.
Shifting, he lays his hand just above the curve of her hip. He can smell her shampoo and feel sweat-dampened skin under his fingers as he listens to the pattern of her breathing. It's a sort of tactile pleasure unlike anything he's experienced before, but the best is still yet to come.
As the fog of endorphins wraps itself further around him, the world seems to narrow in scope until only the two of them exist. This is what he looks forward to the most, when all's said and done. New York City streets are never completely silent, even in the dead of night, but the ambient noise slowly fades away as he focuses on the sound of her sleepy murmurings. It's taken him months to identify what he's feeling at this moment, and even longer to recognize it as contentment.
He's spent the majority of his adulthood always looking for the next big thing, barely stopping to catch his breath, forever sprinting on a metaphorical treadmill to nowhere. In the immortal words of Tommy Lee Jones in The Fugitive, it's time to stop running.
Robin works late the following night. No one seems to be entirely sure why a morning show requires so many evening meetings, but she's assured him there's lots of planning to be done. He greets her at the door with a glass of wine, which she drinks half of in one go before kissing him hello.
"You would not believe the day I've had."
He holds his arms out and she leans into them, gasping as he kneads the tense muscles in her neck and shoulders. Her sigh turns into a purr as his hands move further down her spine. He's willing to bet she hasn't had a back rub like this since Argentina.
They settle in on the sofa, his hands still on her back, and he listens with half-feigned interest as she tells him about the female triplet snowboarders she interviewed earlier. She's well aware that he watches her show every day, but she still likes to talk about all the stories she's done recently. Coming from anyone else, it would have driven him crazy.
Finally she relaxes, leaning back against him. "I'm pretty exhausted right now. You mind if we call it a night?"
With a shake of his head, he lifts her in his arms in a rare moment of playfulness. She gives him a gentle shove, just to remind him that she's not a prize to be carried off into the sunset, but she laughs as he sets her down and plants a quick kiss on her forehead.
Listening in from the bedroom as she washes away the last of the day's stress, he wonders when this became everything he ever wanted.
Author: GypsyJr
Fandom: How I Met Your Mother
Pairing: Barney/Robin, established relationship
Warnings: Pure unadulterated fluff. Spoilers for ep. 4.14
Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction, and no copyright infringement or disrespect is intended.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: After living his life turned up to 11, Barney learns to appreciate the quiet moments.
He'd never admit it to anyone else, but Barney has a favorite part of the nights he spends with Robin.
It's not the obvious one, though their sex life is undeniably legendary. It's an understatement bordering on insanity to say that he's slept with a lot of women, but there's something different about going to bed with someone he actually cares about. He's looking forward to getting used to it.
It's not the afterglow either, though that's almost as awesome in its own unfamiliar way. Following their usual routine, Robin's settled down next to him, too far away to cuddle but close enough to lean her head against his and rest a hand on his chest. It's the perfect distance, comforting without being clingy, and one of these days he's going to ask her how she does it.
Shifting, he lays his hand just above the curve of her hip. He can smell her shampoo and feel sweat-dampened skin under his fingers as he listens to the pattern of her breathing. It's a sort of tactile pleasure unlike anything he's experienced before, but the best is still yet to come.
As the fog of endorphins wraps itself further around him, the world seems to narrow in scope until only the two of them exist. This is what he looks forward to the most, when all's said and done. New York City streets are never completely silent, even in the dead of night, but the ambient noise slowly fades away as he focuses on the sound of her sleepy murmurings. It's taken him months to identify what he's feeling at this moment, and even longer to recognize it as contentment.
He's spent the majority of his adulthood always looking for the next big thing, barely stopping to catch his breath, forever sprinting on a metaphorical treadmill to nowhere. In the immortal words of Tommy Lee Jones in The Fugitive, it's time to stop running.
Robin works late the following night. No one seems to be entirely sure why a morning show requires so many evening meetings, but she's assured him there's lots of planning to be done. He greets her at the door with a glass of wine, which she drinks half of in one go before kissing him hello.
"You would not believe the day I've had."
He holds his arms out and she leans into them, gasping as he kneads the tense muscles in her neck and shoulders. Her sigh turns into a purr as his hands move further down her spine. He's willing to bet she hasn't had a back rub like this since Argentina.
They settle in on the sofa, his hands still on her back, and he listens with half-feigned interest as she tells him about the female triplet snowboarders she interviewed earlier. She's well aware that he watches her show every day, but she still likes to talk about all the stories she's done recently. Coming from anyone else, it would have driven him crazy.
Finally she relaxes, leaning back against him. "I'm pretty exhausted right now. You mind if we call it a night?"
With a shake of his head, he lifts her in his arms in a rare moment of playfulness. She gives him a gentle shove, just to remind him that she's not a prize to be carried off into the sunset, but she laughs as he sets her down and plants a quick kiss on her forehead.
Listening in from the bedroom as she washes away the last of the day's stress, he wonders when this became everything he ever wanted.