Damage, the Devil, and the Deep Blue Sea
Title: Damage, the Devil, and the Deep Blue Sea
Author: Stablergirl
Rating: NC17
Spoilers: Really none.
Characters: Ted, Barney, Robin
Authors Notes: Proceed with caution, where I come from we call this smut. SERIOUSLY - YOU WILL GET DIRTY. Blame
roland44 , she's the one who planted the plot seed. So now I boldly go where many have gone before. To hell.
Enjoy.
**
Rules bounce frantically in the back of Ted’s mind for the first seven minutes.
Things they agreed on like: No eye contact. No names. Particularly the phrase: No talking about this ever again, stuck on repeat and pushing a pulsing headache into the spot between his eyes.
He tries to distract himself with running his hands over her body, down and across her thigh, up and around to the back of her neck, his tongue slipping against a spot just behind her ear. These things of his make her lean toward him and sigh.
Or, he thinks, maybe he isn’t the one making her sigh.
He tries to distract himself. He tries not to think too hard about the other set of hands he sees wrapping around her from behind, down and across her hip, up and around to feel the weight of her left breast. Ted considers that maybe another tongue - as in a tongue other than his - is slipping against the notches of her spine...or maybe…maybe...
Maybe Ted is not the one making Robin sigh.
No talking about this ever again.
To keep himself from speaking the rule out loud, Ted’s tongue slides into her mouth.
God damn, she can do wicked things, he thinks hazily. She can do wicked, wicked things to men. She wraps a long winding arm around Ted's torso and her back arches. She sighs hot into his mouth and he has to close his eyes because control is an important thing for a guy in his position and the look of her makes him forget what lasting feels like. Her fingers trace the lines of his back, tease the nerve endings of his stomach, drift lazily down and take their time before gliding cool and practically incorporeal where he so desperately wants her to be solid and just grab on.
He swallows with effort and when her fingers drift away from him his eyes flutter open because it’s cruel, he wants her, he wonders what the hell she’s…
But then he remembers.
Like buckets of ice he remembers because her arm has sloped back behind her and her head has fallen onto someone else’s shoulder and he can see a hand working in between her thighs - distracting her.
No talking about this ever again.
Ted’s blood pumps hard.
He feels lust flood through him.
Robin licks her lips and her eyes slip closed and Ted feels something else tickle his mind, some sense of competition, some battling of the wills, and so he leans forward and plants his mouth again on hers - this time demanding, hard enough to wake her up to him, like his teeth scrape against her lower lip. His mouth slips down once he’s gotten her attention, lazy across her jaw and into the dip between her neck and her shoulder and he intends to leave a mark there - so he bites. She groans and he smoothes the mark he’s made with the warmth of his tongue.
His hand is reaching down - suddenly bold - surprising even himself with the way it tangles with fingers already planted at the center of her. Ted pushes, careful and calm, until that other hand drifts away and Ted’s is the only one left there, victorious. He inhales the scent of her and then he picks up his head, his eyes locking with Atlantic Ocean blue.
No eye contact.
He breaks the rules.
“Share,” Ted forces out. An order. A demand.
Barney looks right at him over Robin’s shoulder, his mouth tilting into a cocky grin, and Ted inexplicably feels his stomach tighten in response. He feels himself get a little bit harder. He’s turned on and he lazily runs his mouth along Robin’s collarbone, his tongue snaking out, and he feels his eyelids droop with…
He didn’t think that he would…
No talking about this ever again.
“This isn’t exactly a fair arrangement, dude, you’ve got all the goods on your side,” Barney mumbles, the sound and vibration of it traveling through him and then her and then him. Robin sighs between them, probably rolling her eyes but Ted’s at the wrong angle to notice at the moment.
Robin’s hands relocate, deliberately distracting both of the men, and Ted’s eyes blink closed because she’s finally grabbing on - god finally…she’s finally…and it’s…
Fuck, he forgot how good this could be...
Forgot how wicked she actually is.
“Plenty to go around, boys,” she tells them and her voice is low and throaty and her hair is feather soft and her palm is smooth against the head of him and he can’t hold in the groan.
He hears Barney force out a gravelly oh god response and his stomach tightens just a little bit further.
He gets a little bit harder in her hand.
He didn’t think he would like this.
That familiar feeling settles into him like that breathing deep and noisy, that buzzing mind and buzzing nerves and that tightening spiral of coiled metal in the core of him. He hears the blood rushing in his ears. Her hand slides up along the length of him and then slips back down, up along him and then around him and down, again and again, and Ted’s cheek lands against the pillow.
His fingers return her repetitive favors - find the spot that makes her eyes widen, and he feels the wetness of her - jesus - and he relies on his instinct, on the things he knows she likes. He brushes feather light, quick, here and then gone touches - teasing, flirting with her. Someone once told him to write the alphabet against a woman - that it would drive them crazy - but he knows better, he knows for Robin it’s like sketching, it’s like quick lines against paper, random, unpredictable.
He hears her moan.
She tightens her grip on him and he has to pull his hips away or this will all be over way too soon.
Pressing just a little harder on her clit he focuses, opens his eyes, looks at her face, watches the blush creep into the skin of her chest, and he’d forgotten. He’d totally forgotten, but now he remembers and he watches hazily as that third set of hands wander from her breasts, down…down…he watches Barney grab onto her thigh, pressing, pulling her and spreading her open and wrapping her leg back and around, back and across…
Ted pulls away and Ted holds his breath.
He watches Barney’s hips rock forward, and he watches as Barney slides himself into her.
God damn it.
God damn it, he did not think he would like this.
This - dirty and tawdry and confusing and so totally wicked.
Barney slides into her slow and Ted feels the pressure of it behind his eyes, god the look of her - he’s gone completely motionless, his mouth hanging open and his brain repeating pieces of a mantra - no talking about this…no talking…no eyes and no names and no talking about this...
He watches Barney’s hand drift across Robin’s arm, down, wrapping around her wrist, fingers fitting in between hers. He watches Barney’s hand guide Robin’s toward Ted, watches Barney pushing her palm down and placing it against him, the pressure of both hands making Ted suck a heat-filled breath into his lungs as Barney’s mouth wraps around Robin’s ear.
“Distract Ted,” Barney whispers to her, and Ted feels his mind start to explode.
God.
Oh god.
Robin’s mouth tilts at him, half-smiling, her eyes landing on him, her fingers tightening, and Ted doesn’t know anymore where Barney’s hands are, what Barney’s doing. There are thirty fingers and there are six arms and there are three mouths and there are two dicks and Ted thinks this must be that moment people talk about where you lose track of whose are whose. His hips rock forward when hers rock back and his rock back when hers rock forward and he can hear the sounds of them and he sort of half-intelligently compares this to something Sodom and Gomorrah.
Robin eclipses pieces of Barney so that Ted just sees this sloping outline, this bronzed arc of his right side, lips open against Robin’s neck, shoulder sloping forward and arm wrapped around her stomach, chiseled hip and long winding leg draping across hers, holding her to him. Robin eclipses pieces of Barney, but Ted can study this sloping outline.
Ted can study this waving waterfront of Robin’s smooth white skin. He can study the way her head drops forward eventually, hiding her face against Ted’s bicep, her moan vibrating into the skin of him and her lips and tongue wandering his veins, his muscles, his shoulder and eventually landing at his mouth.
Her hand works at him.
He thinks she’s so…so wicked.
He studies Barney’s rhythm against her, pushing in and pulling out, fingers drifting and mouth hotly breathing words oh god and oh yes and oh my god yes and it would sound odd except that Ted thinks he’s muttering the same sorts of things, breathing the same sorts of breaths, pushing against the same heavenly skin and smelling the same deliciously-female scent.
Their breaths are loud in her silent bedroom.
They inhale and exhale, six lungs working hard to find something - to get something out - god just to…to just…
“Oh god,” Ted pushes out as Robin works her thumb against him.
And then he can’t think clearly about anything because his vision is blurring with the feel of her pressing against him, the sounds of her losing control, the sounds of Barney speeding up behind her and hips hitting hips and sighs hitting groans and then jesus a hand wraps around his side and pulls him closer and he feels a new kind of air slide across his skin, a new kind of mouth against his shoulder and he’s…god…oh god, he can’t…it’s good and he didn’t expect to…he didn’t expect...
He didn’t expect to like it as much as he fucking does.
He explodes and he can’t believe that it’s happening.
No talking about this ever again.
**
“I don’t know why they would ever think it’s a good idea,” Ted complains and Lily’s nodding her agreement when Barney slides into the booth with a tray of fresh drinks.
“Please tell me we’re not still complaining about the whole no cars allowed in Times Square thing,” Barney mutters, handing Lily and Marshall their beers, sliding a scotch to Robin, and reaching out with a gin and tonic toward Ted.
Refusing to grab it, Ted sighs.
“What would you like to talk about, Barney?” he asks, dull, bored, a little on edge for no apparent reason.
Or, he hopes it’s not apparent.
Barney shakes the drink at him so that the ice rattles between them and Ted pretends this isn’t weird. He pretends he doesn’t know way more now than he ever did before. He grabs the gin and tonic and he pretends Barney’s fingers don’t brush smooth across his during the hand off.
Ted clears his throat to cover up…something. Whatever.
“What would I like to talk about? Uh…I don’t know, maybe…Sex?” Barney suggests, grinning, cat-that-ate-the-canary smug, so bold that he chuckles when Ted’s eyes flip to Robin’s, meeting her blank stare with thinly veiled panic. Ted’s pulse jumps. His breath quickens. He downs half his drink in one swallow and he frowns at Barney, scolding him, warning him, pretending he doesn’t see flashes of skin on skin on skin and limb on limb on limb in his overloaded mind’s eye. He frowns at Barney.
But Barney’s gaze is on Lily, winking at her as Lily clicks her tongue and shakes her head.
“Typical,” Lily grumbles, before adding, “also? Gross.”
And Ted realizes this something here is supposed to be normal so he pretends to chuckle.
He pretends to be amused.
The other two are blatantly calm and for a second Ted wonders if the night before had ever really happened at all. He wonders if he imagined it, if it’s some kind of intense wet dream or unrealized fantasy teasing his memory and pushing panic into him for no reason whatsoever.
“Seriously though,” Robin’s adding, “Times Square is bad enough with the tourists, if they make this no cars thing official I’m never setting foot in that place again.”
Ted wonders if he’d dreamed it.
“We’ll have to rig you on a dolly and push you around,” Marshall jokes and Barney laughs.
Ted thinks he must have dreamed it.
Until a hand slides against his thigh.
Everything goes down the wrong pipe, then, and Ted practically drops the glass he’s holding.
“Watch it, there, bro. I paid good money for that booze,” Barney scolds lightly, holding out a cocktail napkin which Ted takes with a shaky hand.
He mops at the new stain on his golf shirt and coughs through the choking he’s doing and glares at Barney, reaching a hand under the table to push the not-so-mysterious fingers away.
“Screw you, bro,” Ted chokes out.
Robin laughs.
Barney smiles.
And Ted knows that it happened.
Definitely.
He wipes away gin and he clenches his jaw and he thinks about rules and he thinks about sex.
He thinks: No talking about this ever again.
No talking about this ever again.
No talking about this.
Ever again.
Author: Stablergirl
Rating: NC17
Spoilers: Really none.
Characters: Ted, Barney, Robin
Authors Notes: Proceed with caution, where I come from we call this smut. SERIOUSLY - YOU WILL GET DIRTY. Blame
roland44 , she's the one who planted the plot seed. So now I boldly go where many have gone before. To hell.
Enjoy.
**
Rules bounce frantically in the back of Ted’s mind for the first seven minutes.
Things they agreed on like: No eye contact. No names. Particularly the phrase: No talking about this ever again, stuck on repeat and pushing a pulsing headache into the spot between his eyes.
He tries to distract himself with running his hands over her body, down and across her thigh, up and around to the back of her neck, his tongue slipping against a spot just behind her ear. These things of his make her lean toward him and sigh.
Or, he thinks, maybe he isn’t the one making her sigh.
He tries to distract himself. He tries not to think too hard about the other set of hands he sees wrapping around her from behind, down and across her hip, up and around to feel the weight of her left breast. Ted considers that maybe another tongue - as in a tongue other than his - is slipping against the notches of her spine...or maybe…maybe...
Maybe Ted is not the one making Robin sigh.
No talking about this ever again.
To keep himself from speaking the rule out loud, Ted’s tongue slides into her mouth.
God damn, she can do wicked things, he thinks hazily. She can do wicked, wicked things to men. She wraps a long winding arm around Ted's torso and her back arches. She sighs hot into his mouth and he has to close his eyes because control is an important thing for a guy in his position and the look of her makes him forget what lasting feels like. Her fingers trace the lines of his back, tease the nerve endings of his stomach, drift lazily down and take their time before gliding cool and practically incorporeal where he so desperately wants her to be solid and just grab on.
He swallows with effort and when her fingers drift away from him his eyes flutter open because it’s cruel, he wants her, he wonders what the hell she’s…
But then he remembers.
Like buckets of ice he remembers because her arm has sloped back behind her and her head has fallen onto someone else’s shoulder and he can see a hand working in between her thighs - distracting her.
No talking about this ever again.
Ted’s blood pumps hard.
He feels lust flood through him.
Robin licks her lips and her eyes slip closed and Ted feels something else tickle his mind, some sense of competition, some battling of the wills, and so he leans forward and plants his mouth again on hers - this time demanding, hard enough to wake her up to him, like his teeth scrape against her lower lip. His mouth slips down once he’s gotten her attention, lazy across her jaw and into the dip between her neck and her shoulder and he intends to leave a mark there - so he bites. She groans and he smoothes the mark he’s made with the warmth of his tongue.
His hand is reaching down - suddenly bold - surprising even himself with the way it tangles with fingers already planted at the center of her. Ted pushes, careful and calm, until that other hand drifts away and Ted’s is the only one left there, victorious. He inhales the scent of her and then he picks up his head, his eyes locking with Atlantic Ocean blue.
No eye contact.
He breaks the rules.
“Share,” Ted forces out. An order. A demand.
Barney looks right at him over Robin’s shoulder, his mouth tilting into a cocky grin, and Ted inexplicably feels his stomach tighten in response. He feels himself get a little bit harder. He’s turned on and he lazily runs his mouth along Robin’s collarbone, his tongue snaking out, and he feels his eyelids droop with…
He didn’t think that he would…
No talking about this ever again.
“This isn’t exactly a fair arrangement, dude, you’ve got all the goods on your side,” Barney mumbles, the sound and vibration of it traveling through him and then her and then him. Robin sighs between them, probably rolling her eyes but Ted’s at the wrong angle to notice at the moment.
Robin’s hands relocate, deliberately distracting both of the men, and Ted’s eyes blink closed because she’s finally grabbing on - god finally…she’s finally…and it’s…
Fuck, he forgot how good this could be...
Forgot how wicked she actually is.
“Plenty to go around, boys,” she tells them and her voice is low and throaty and her hair is feather soft and her palm is smooth against the head of him and he can’t hold in the groan.
He hears Barney force out a gravelly oh god response and his stomach tightens just a little bit further.
He gets a little bit harder in her hand.
He didn’t think he would like this.
That familiar feeling settles into him like that breathing deep and noisy, that buzzing mind and buzzing nerves and that tightening spiral of coiled metal in the core of him. He hears the blood rushing in his ears. Her hand slides up along the length of him and then slips back down, up along him and then around him and down, again and again, and Ted’s cheek lands against the pillow.
His fingers return her repetitive favors - find the spot that makes her eyes widen, and he feels the wetness of her - jesus - and he relies on his instinct, on the things he knows she likes. He brushes feather light, quick, here and then gone touches - teasing, flirting with her. Someone once told him to write the alphabet against a woman - that it would drive them crazy - but he knows better, he knows for Robin it’s like sketching, it’s like quick lines against paper, random, unpredictable.
He hears her moan.
She tightens her grip on him and he has to pull his hips away or this will all be over way too soon.
Pressing just a little harder on her clit he focuses, opens his eyes, looks at her face, watches the blush creep into the skin of her chest, and he’d forgotten. He’d totally forgotten, but now he remembers and he watches hazily as that third set of hands wander from her breasts, down…down…he watches Barney grab onto her thigh, pressing, pulling her and spreading her open and wrapping her leg back and around, back and across…
Ted pulls away and Ted holds his breath.
He watches Barney’s hips rock forward, and he watches as Barney slides himself into her.
God damn it.
God damn it, he did not think he would like this.
This - dirty and tawdry and confusing and so totally wicked.
Barney slides into her slow and Ted feels the pressure of it behind his eyes, god the look of her - he’s gone completely motionless, his mouth hanging open and his brain repeating pieces of a mantra - no talking about this…no talking…no eyes and no names and no talking about this...
He watches Barney’s hand drift across Robin’s arm, down, wrapping around her wrist, fingers fitting in between hers. He watches Barney’s hand guide Robin’s toward Ted, watches Barney pushing her palm down and placing it against him, the pressure of both hands making Ted suck a heat-filled breath into his lungs as Barney’s mouth wraps around Robin’s ear.
“Distract Ted,” Barney whispers to her, and Ted feels his mind start to explode.
God.
Oh god.
Robin’s mouth tilts at him, half-smiling, her eyes landing on him, her fingers tightening, and Ted doesn’t know anymore where Barney’s hands are, what Barney’s doing. There are thirty fingers and there are six arms and there are three mouths and there are two dicks and Ted thinks this must be that moment people talk about where you lose track of whose are whose. His hips rock forward when hers rock back and his rock back when hers rock forward and he can hear the sounds of them and he sort of half-intelligently compares this to something Sodom and Gomorrah.
Robin eclipses pieces of Barney so that Ted just sees this sloping outline, this bronzed arc of his right side, lips open against Robin’s neck, shoulder sloping forward and arm wrapped around her stomach, chiseled hip and long winding leg draping across hers, holding her to him. Robin eclipses pieces of Barney, but Ted can study this sloping outline.
Ted can study this waving waterfront of Robin’s smooth white skin. He can study the way her head drops forward eventually, hiding her face against Ted’s bicep, her moan vibrating into the skin of him and her lips and tongue wandering his veins, his muscles, his shoulder and eventually landing at his mouth.
Her hand works at him.
He thinks she’s so…so wicked.
He studies Barney’s rhythm against her, pushing in and pulling out, fingers drifting and mouth hotly breathing words oh god and oh yes and oh my god yes and it would sound odd except that Ted thinks he’s muttering the same sorts of things, breathing the same sorts of breaths, pushing against the same heavenly skin and smelling the same deliciously-female scent.
Their breaths are loud in her silent bedroom.
They inhale and exhale, six lungs working hard to find something - to get something out - god just to…to just…
“Oh god,” Ted pushes out as Robin works her thumb against him.
And then he can’t think clearly about anything because his vision is blurring with the feel of her pressing against him, the sounds of her losing control, the sounds of Barney speeding up behind her and hips hitting hips and sighs hitting groans and then jesus a hand wraps around his side and pulls him closer and he feels a new kind of air slide across his skin, a new kind of mouth against his shoulder and he’s…god…oh god, he can’t…it’s good and he didn’t expect to…he didn’t expect...
He didn’t expect to like it as much as he fucking does.
He explodes and he can’t believe that it’s happening.
No talking about this ever again.
**
“I don’t know why they would ever think it’s a good idea,” Ted complains and Lily’s nodding her agreement when Barney slides into the booth with a tray of fresh drinks.
“Please tell me we’re not still complaining about the whole no cars allowed in Times Square thing,” Barney mutters, handing Lily and Marshall their beers, sliding a scotch to Robin, and reaching out with a gin and tonic toward Ted.
Refusing to grab it, Ted sighs.
“What would you like to talk about, Barney?” he asks, dull, bored, a little on edge for no apparent reason.
Or, he hopes it’s not apparent.
Barney shakes the drink at him so that the ice rattles between them and Ted pretends this isn’t weird. He pretends he doesn’t know way more now than he ever did before. He grabs the gin and tonic and he pretends Barney’s fingers don’t brush smooth across his during the hand off.
Ted clears his throat to cover up…something. Whatever.
“What would I like to talk about? Uh…I don’t know, maybe…Sex?” Barney suggests, grinning, cat-that-ate-the-canary smug, so bold that he chuckles when Ted’s eyes flip to Robin’s, meeting her blank stare with thinly veiled panic. Ted’s pulse jumps. His breath quickens. He downs half his drink in one swallow and he frowns at Barney, scolding him, warning him, pretending he doesn’t see flashes of skin on skin on skin and limb on limb on limb in his overloaded mind’s eye. He frowns at Barney.
But Barney’s gaze is on Lily, winking at her as Lily clicks her tongue and shakes her head.
“Typical,” Lily grumbles, before adding, “also? Gross.”
And Ted realizes this something here is supposed to be normal so he pretends to chuckle.
He pretends to be amused.
The other two are blatantly calm and for a second Ted wonders if the night before had ever really happened at all. He wonders if he imagined it, if it’s some kind of intense wet dream or unrealized fantasy teasing his memory and pushing panic into him for no reason whatsoever.
“Seriously though,” Robin’s adding, “Times Square is bad enough with the tourists, if they make this no cars thing official I’m never setting foot in that place again.”
Ted wonders if he’d dreamed it.
“We’ll have to rig you on a dolly and push you around,” Marshall jokes and Barney laughs.
Ted thinks he must have dreamed it.
Until a hand slides against his thigh.
Everything goes down the wrong pipe, then, and Ted practically drops the glass he’s holding.
“Watch it, there, bro. I paid good money for that booze,” Barney scolds lightly, holding out a cocktail napkin which Ted takes with a shaky hand.
He mops at the new stain on his golf shirt and coughs through the choking he’s doing and glares at Barney, reaching a hand under the table to push the not-so-mysterious fingers away.
“Screw you, bro,” Ted chokes out.
Robin laughs.
Barney smiles.
And Ted knows that it happened.
Definitely.
He wipes away gin and he clenches his jaw and he thinks about rules and he thinks about sex.
He thinks: No talking about this ever again.
No talking about this ever again.
No talking about this.
Ever again.