How I Met Your Mother drabble: Breath
Disclaimer: Carter Bays and Craig Thomas are Keepers of How I Met Your Mother.
Spoilers: for season 6 (and one for season 2).
Author's Note: prompt from spn_30snapshots theme 1 (Elemental).
Author's Note 2: Totally AU.
***
Lily wore a pinched look after Marshall's dad died. She said it was because Marshall had become a beast in bed now that he was The Man of the family.
Marshall took time off work. It was probably just as well, since Marshall started hanging around bars more and indulged himself with sandwiches.
After the bars, sandwiches, and sex late into the night Marshall caught a cold.
Several years ago, Barney had gotten a cold that he called awesome. Barney's cold was not awesome. It was even less awesome when we all caught it. Marshall's cold, however, was not awesome with an exclaimation mark. It made his face look even more ravaged than the hangovers and less sleep.
...
"Baby," Lily said as Marshall moved within her with zombie like persistence and snurfled into her ear.
"I think you've got a little something right here." She gestured to the crest of her lip where it peaked in the middle like a wave.
Marshall sniffed hard and kept rocking into her.
Lily decided Marshall was a sluice box wielding zombie and that she was his shoveful of dirt possibly rich with gold or some other precious metal.
"Ah," Lily said, her eyes wide, "you aren't going to find any gold that way."
Marshall looked at Lily.
She contained her grimace at rawness of his face, which was red with exertion, sandwiches, and the absolutely not awesome cold he had. Indeed, Marshall's nose was red and weeping, and his mouth gaped like a runner to allow him to breathe around the pressure in his head.
Lily reached for Marshall with a tissue from the box on her bedside table. "Let me help you." She wiped her husband's nose tenderly, skilled from wiping legions of snotty noses in her career. "Never thought I'd have to do that for you," she muttered, tossing the tissue.
Somewhere in between reaching for Marshall's red face and throwing away the evidence Marshall stopped searching for gold in Lily. He held her gaze like he had heard what she had said under her breath.
"I don't mind," Lily said.
Marshall plunged into Lily again, although this time into her shoulder, and gripped her closer to him. He snurfled into her ear again.
Lily got another tissue. "Raise your head, baby."
"Oh, Marshall, baby," Lily said when Marshall emerged from the niche her neck created.
...
Marshall blew his nose that night, and when Lily and Marshall showed up at MacLaren's the next day Marshall didn't smell like a brewery or sandwiches; instead, he smelled of eucalyptus, which smelled cool and refreshing as a rain.
Spoilers: for season 6 (and one for season 2).
Author's Note: prompt from spn_30snapshots theme 1 (Elemental).
Author's Note 2: Totally AU.
***
Lily wore a pinched look after Marshall's dad died. She said it was because Marshall had become a beast in bed now that he was The Man of the family.
Marshall took time off work. It was probably just as well, since Marshall started hanging around bars more and indulged himself with sandwiches.
After the bars, sandwiches, and sex late into the night Marshall caught a cold.
Several years ago, Barney had gotten a cold that he called awesome. Barney's cold was not awesome. It was even less awesome when we all caught it. Marshall's cold, however, was not awesome with an exclaimation mark. It made his face look even more ravaged than the hangovers and less sleep.
...
"Baby," Lily said as Marshall moved within her with zombie like persistence and snurfled into her ear.
"I think you've got a little something right here." She gestured to the crest of her lip where it peaked in the middle like a wave.
Marshall sniffed hard and kept rocking into her.
Lily decided Marshall was a sluice box wielding zombie and that she was his shoveful of dirt possibly rich with gold or some other precious metal.
"Ah," Lily said, her eyes wide, "you aren't going to find any gold that way."
Marshall looked at Lily.
She contained her grimace at rawness of his face, which was red with exertion, sandwiches, and the absolutely not awesome cold he had. Indeed, Marshall's nose was red and weeping, and his mouth gaped like a runner to allow him to breathe around the pressure in his head.
Lily reached for Marshall with a tissue from the box on her bedside table. "Let me help you." She wiped her husband's nose tenderly, skilled from wiping legions of snotty noses in her career. "Never thought I'd have to do that for you," she muttered, tossing the tissue.
Somewhere in between reaching for Marshall's red face and throwing away the evidence Marshall stopped searching for gold in Lily. He held her gaze like he had heard what she had said under her breath.
"I don't mind," Lily said.
Marshall plunged into Lily again, although this time into her shoulder, and gripped her closer to him. He snurfled into her ear again.
Lily got another tissue. "Raise your head, baby."
"Oh, Marshall, baby," Lily said when Marshall emerged from the niche her neck created.
...
Marshall blew his nose that night, and when Lily and Marshall showed up at MacLaren's the next day Marshall didn't smell like a brewery or sandwiches; instead, he smelled of eucalyptus, which smelled cool and refreshing as a rain.