There's plastic sheeting all over, taped down to protect the hardwood floor. Robin wonders if she shouldn't have brought more.
"A suit? Barney, are you serious? You wear a suit to come help me paint?"
He laughs and straightens his tie, picks up the smallest brush and dips it into the pot. She shakes her head. She's dressed in an old t-shirt and shorts and feels scruffy and unkempt compared to him - not at all attractive. She's pretty sure she's got a spot of "hint of magnolia" in her hair. "You have got to be kidding me! This is not going to be like when you offered to do the origami for Lily's wedding, or help Ted move! You think if you are really, really crap then I'll let you off? You never wanted to help."
He grins at that, blue eyes sparkling. "Are you kidding? The quicker you move out from Ted's apartment the better!"
"Oh yeah?" She demands, hands on her hips. "Why?"
"Because then you…" He says stridently, then quickly changes his tone. "Because then Ted can finally get some action without you around all the time, cramping his style!"
"Really?" She says, raising an eyebrow. She pulls back her brush and slowly and deliberately flicks paint at him. She laughs as the droplets arc through the air and he throws himself out of their path, like they're playing Laser Tag. His reaction is too slow, however, and a blob gets him on the sleeve.
"How much did you have to drink at lunch?" She giggles.
"Why you-" He says, storming up to her, backing her against the freshly-painted wall. Her ankle meets an open can and it upturns paint all over the floor.
"Damn it!" She says, but he's still moving forward, slower now, face like thunder.
He looks serious.
"You've ruined my suit." He says.
She shrugs, grinning nervously. "It'll dry clean."
He scowls at her as she tries to reach down for the can before it rolls across the floor and makes even more mess. But he grabs both her wrists, slamming them up against the wall, not too hard, but firmly. She's pinned, her stomach flutters as he stares at her. Her mouth is dry… parched. She licks her lips.
"This isn't helping me…" She says, because he's too close now. She can feel the warmth of him, the way the wet paint squelches against the thin material of her tshirt, sticking to her bare legs. She blinks. Everything goes very, very still. She feels everything in sequence - his breath on her wet lips, his fingers tightening around her wrists, his groin pressed against hers.
"Let me go!" She says, suddenly, breaking the spell. He does so, reaching down for the can, now only a quarter full of paint. With a wink he hefts it, spins around and throws it over her.
The paint lands mostly across her chest, weighing down the material. It feels slimy, soaks through into her bra and it's cold. Her nipples tingle and spring erect, very visible through her tshirt.
"You bastard!" She screams. "You did that on purpose!"
He just laughs.
She picks up her brush again and charges him, running the bristles right down the centre of his jacket, across the buttons, her trajectory sending him back against the other (unpainted) wall. For a moment she wonders if he's angry with her. If his suit wasn't ruined before, it is now.
But he just raises an eyebrow and she pulls back before he can get off on the fact that she was now pinning him against the wall. He shrugs off the paint-spattered jacket.
"It's not like this was one of my favourites…" He says with a grin. Taking the small brush, he dabs paint on the tip of her nose and she tries to step back out of reach but she slips on slick surface and end up falling backwards on to the plastic-covered, paint smeared, floor. He kneels down, not caring anymore if he gets paint on his pants and tries to pull her up. But his shoes slide backwards and he ends up on top of her and before she knows it she's got his tie wrapped around her fist and she's pulling him down for an angry kiss.
It's hard and unsteady and when she tries to move she kind of stays in the same place because there's no leverage but his tongue is in her mouth and suddenly home improvement is the last thing on her mind.
She pulls at his shirt but he grabs her again, slamming her wrists down on the floor and this time he hurts her. There's something angry in his eyes and it shouldn't turn her on as much as it does. A second ago he was laughing. Now he means business.
"You don't get to-" He says but she lifts her head, bites his bottom lip then kisses him again, wanting it, needing it rough and ready.
He strips off his shirt, over his head and throws it carelessly over a chair. Then he goes for her tshirt, tearing it in his haste to undress her. He's got paint all over his face, in his hair, and it should look ridiculous, stupid, but he's never looked hotter.
He leaves her bra and starts pulling down her shorts instead, but she fights him, going for his fly, his belt buckle, her knuckles brushing the bulge that shows he's as turned on as she is right now.
He pins her to the floor again, his tongue dancing across her throat and she swears she must taste gross but he distracts her for long enough to kick off his trousers and grab her thighs. She slides back and it's tough to do this, he grapples with her body as he slides smoothly into her (she can feel the latex - when did he do that?). Time goes a bit screwy between the slip-slide, his panting breaths, him filling her up and thrusting just there and soon she's clawing at his back and screaming at him to go faster, harder, keep going forever until the pleasure spills out of her, coating them both as she feels the spasm of his own orgasm rocketing through him, back and forth until she can barely contain it all, crying out again and again.
When she comes down from the high, he's chuckling in her ear. "Boy, you were loud! Way to piss off your new neighbours," he says, struggling upright and pulling her to her feet.
She pulls up her shorts, feeling a little awkward. Did they really just do that?
She has a sneaking suspicion that was his plan all along.
Barney tosses her the discarded t-shirt but she shrugs, using it to wipe the worst of the paint from her face.
She can't help but grin at the expression on Barney's face.
"Hey, Scherbatsky?" He says.
"What Barney?" She asks wearily.
"Messy paint-sex high five?"
"Only if you promise to actually help me get some of this done!"
"Does it count if I pay someone to do it?"
She laughs. "Maybe." She slaps his palm. "Ew… sticky. I think we need to get cleaned up. Shower?"
Slowly, a smirk spreads across his face. "Gotta try out the facilities in your new place…?"
She gives him a saucy wink. "Hell yeah! I think the facilities could use a little added Barney!"
His grin lights up the room.
