Persuasion
The next night, Ted was going to have a "talk" with Robin, to try and convince her not to de-Bro them both. Barney had rolled his eyes and left Ted to it. Robin isn't the one they have to convince. After all, she isn't doing this for herself.
She's doing this for Don.
Barney heads down out into the street, hails a cab and barks Don's address at the driver. It's Don they have to persuade, if anyone. After all, he's the one taking Robin away from them.
Plus, this'll be easy. Don already thinks he's cool. And he's a dude; dudes appreciate logic.
Robin staying away from the gang just because it includes two of her exes - that's just not logical. Not even when two of those exes occasionally turn into drunken jackasses. It's Robin. She's their's. Don can't have her.
Not exclusively, anyway.
Barney raps on the door to Don's apartment, all confident charm, and when Don opens it he beams up at him (because the guy's so damn tall. Big, like Marshall) and tells him straight up that he's here to talk about Robin.
Don gives Barney that good-natured, indulgent look (it gives him a little quiver inside that he doesn't want to examine too closely) and he motions him through the doorway. His apartment is a warm, friendly place, a little bit like the man himself. Don seems like such a grown up compared to Barney and his friends. No wonder Robin feels comfortable here, what with all her Daddy issues.
Hell, he feels comfortable here. There's something wise about Don; something worldly. Don will get it, Barney's sure. He'll understand.
The big man offers him a drink, a scotch, and Barney's impressed with the quality until he realizes that it must be Robin's. He downs the liquid, ignoring the burn in his gullet, and tries to concentrate.
"So, this thing with Robin. It's ridiculous, right?" He says, watching Don carefully.
"It's up to her," Don replies, sipping a beer. "You really think I can get a woman that headstrong to change her mind?"
Don pours him another whiskey and Barney takes it gratefully, insisting, "But she's so wrong. It's gonna hurt her, being away from her buddies." Barney tells himself he's just being a good Bro. This has nothing to do with feelings, not even residual feelings. He was just messing with Ted earlier.
Even so, he wonders how far he'd go to convince Don to help him.
They skirt around the issue. They talk for maybe a half hour, while Don freshens his drink and Barney's arguments become monologues. Finally, Barney surges to his feet, inventing a new theory for why exes should stay friends right there and then. Then he staggers, feeling a little heady.
Collapsing back on the couch, Barney realizes that he's way more drunk than he should be on a couple of scotches. Then again Don doesn't stint on his measures, and Barney hasn't exactly had much to eat all day.
Still, Don's a bit of a blur and it comes as a surprise when he realizes that Don's been staring at him silently for longer than would strictly be comfortable, if he were sober.
"I've got a confession to make," Don says.
Barney blinks and tries to focus. "Oh, that never endsh good. Ends good. Ends well? Whatevs."
"You're kind of my hero," Don elaborates. "I've been reading your blog for years. I even tried The Naked Man."
Barney's alcohol soaked brain tries to process this. To be honest, he'd suspected that Don was a fan. "I know, man. Robin and Ted told me."
"No, I mean, before that." Don gives him a pointed look. "There's a reason I broke up with my ex-wife. And it's not because she had an affair."
"Uh, okay?" Barney replies nervously. This isn't exactly how this conversation was supposed to go. "Let me guess. You woke up one day and realized that there are so many hot cutlets in the world and you were chaining yourself to only one-"
"I'm bisexual," Don interrupts, and instead of looking embarrassed, the guy was smiling. Barney has always considered bisexuality as cheating. Mainly because it gave you an unfair advantage in the not-going-home-alone stakes.
Don leans forward and Barney's brain struggles to keep up with the situation, fails, and splashes about happily in all the booze he's fed it. He can feel the couch cushion dip under him and he knows he should bolt right now because it kind of feels like Don's coming on to him.. But a part of him is still on mission - get Don to talk Robin out of her stupid plan to give up her friends. Barney clings to that like a puppy with a comically large bone.
Then Don leans forward a little more, and suddenly Barney's forced backwards, down onto the couch. He's yell of protest is silenced by Don's mouth, unaccountably crashing down on his. Pinned down beneath Don's body and being forcibly kissed is enough to shock his brain back into action.
He tries to push Don away, squirm out from under his grip. But everything moves so fast, so blurry, and Don's lips tighten, his tongue pushing between Barney's, forcing out a groan.
Holy crap, Don's a good kisser.!
But- No! Barney Stinson doesn't get drunk and make out with his ex-girlfriend's current boyfriend. No matter what that thing is that Don's doing with his tongue.
"I've wanted to do this for years," Don manages to say, around hot, opened mouthed, slightly desperate kisses. Barney can't seem to get a word out, or interject at all. Every time he tries, Don takes his breath away in some other, sneaky, bisexual way.
God damn it, this is totally cheating! If Don thinks he can have both him and Robin, he's got another thing coming!
But at the same time, Barney can hear the low rasp of his zipper being pulled down, and one of Don's hands moves, slow, releasing his wrist and touching him, no, caressing him, all the way down from chest to groin.
With one hand now free, Barney knows he should fight back. But Don's as good at the touching as he at the kissing. Plus, Don knows exactly where his fingers should go, how hard to hold, how firmly to stroke. Don reaches in, fingers pushing past the cotton of Barney's boxers, and frees the long column of Barney's erection.
"God, I've waited so long to do this," Don says, moving his head down and down, his mouth opening, sucking him inside in one wet slide. Oh Jeez, it feels so fucking good!
"No!" Barney protests. "I mean… nurgh!"
"That's the spirit," Don says, in between sucks and jerks and slow-moving squeezes. It pushes Barney to the edge in no time at all and his fingers dig into the muscle of Don's back, kneading it, his toes curling and flexing as Don sucks him down deep. Just when he's on the edge, Don lets his cock pop out of his mouth, leaving it pulsing, red-iron hot, in the empty air.
"Ssss whut?" Barney mumbles incoherently, as he feels his pants and boxes being tugged down over his hips. Then Don's hands slide under his buttocks, pulling him towards him, and as Don's mouth reclaims the length of his cock, Barney feels a finger worm its way inside him, wriggling playfully in a way that makes him gasp out loud.
"Oh fucking Jesus crap unffffff!" Barney explodes in a stream of expletives, as the fierce pressure rockets through him, pulses out of him and into Don's mouth. He's left gasping and tingling, trembling from the force of it, and still Don pins him down.
Groaning helplessly, he doesn't move while Don trails kisses across his throat, under his jaw. "You're beautiful," Don murmurs, but the words are just noise. They don't mean anything.
"Seriously, Bro," Barney slurs. "You're gonna help me talk Robin out of her stupid no-exes rule. Or I'm gonna tell her that you just blew my fucking mind on your couch."
"You let me do that on a regular basis, we've got a deal," Don says with a grin.
Barney shrugs an "Okay". It's not the worse thing he's ever agreed to. And he's already thinking two steps ahead, to the obvious possibility of a devil's threeway.
He could blame the alcohol and the post-orgasmic haze, but he knows the way his mind works. The Bro who dares, wins.
And a threeway with Robin and Don would be one hell of a prize.