AN: Worked especially hard on this chapter. I think you'll like it. But maybe not as much as the next one. ;)
It was like a blur in time, when neither could remember what had happened in the time period between ten minutes ago and right now.
But there they were, laying on the bed, side-by-side, arms flung beside their heads in a surrendering position and they stared at each other, wondering what the hell they were doing. And they were sober.
It was as if they had mutually decided they were old enough to know how stupidly they were behaving, but at the same time still young enough to not care about the consequences at all.
They fumbled in the dark, hungry for each other.
Is this love? Or is this lust? Robin wondered but kept the thought to herself; she was afraid the answer would not be desired if the question were to be asked.
It was an internal struggle, and she, too, were afraid this would end up being a one-time thing, an event they would both happen to regret when the Sun rises the next day. She had too much to lose. She had Barney, and what the relationship they had now – whatever it happened to be – was too much to lose.
We're sober, she reminded herself once again. We're both sober. So this must mean something. Right? Sober people don't do this. Besides, we're friends. Friends don't do this.
Barney paid no attention to what she was thinking – how could he know? He was purely intent on nibbling on her neck and the feeling of her stroking the back of his head, playing with his hair affectionately.
No. It doesn't have to mean something. You're thinking it means something because you want it to mean something; she scolded herself silently, cursing herself for over-analysing the situation. Lots of people hook up sober. Barney does it with a million chicks. It's not a big deal… I'm not a big deal.
He had moved downwards and was planting gentle kisses on her stomach now, and as much as she had wanted to focus on what they were doing, her mind just would not let her.
Still… If I never ask, I'll never know.
But you can't say these things out loud. I mean, how do you do it? You can't just ask someone if they're in love with you when there's a strong chance they're not.
Damn it. Okay… You know what? It'd be best to just ask. What's the worst that could happen?
Summoning her last ounce of courage, Robin pursed her lips and cleared her throat. Barney had his hands around her waist, caressing the side of her body, and it appeared to her that her attempt to get his attention was futile.
So she cleared her throat again. He paused this time and looked directly into her eye. She gulped, and cleared her throat for the third time, feeling her mouth turn dry, suddenly not knowing what to say in this interrupted moment.
Stop clearing your throat and start speaking. You're behaving like an idiot.
But as much as she willed herself to blurt out the simple words, she simply could not get them out. She furrowed her brows, and then cleared her throat for the fourth time, knowing full well this was only getting more awkward with each passing second.
Say something… Anything. Speak.
"Barney?" She finally spoke, hesitant of how the words will come from her mouth next.
"Yeah?" He paused and replied lightly, looking up, his intent gaze heavy upon her.
Her voice came out as a quiver.
"Does this mean anything?"
The question clearly took him by surprise, and he responded with a raise of his eyebrows, unprepared for an answer.
"Does this mean anything?" She repeated, her voice sturdy this time, at the same time displaying impatience. "This, as in… What we're doing, right now?"
"We're… Friends." He replied, and she felt her heart sink.
"Friends don't do this kind of stuff together." She commented quietly.
Ignoring her remark, he continued planting kisses on her, this time moving back to toying with her neck, the same time with her emotions. And there was only one difference as he did so – He was completely unaware he was doing the latter.
It was not only a few moments later that she stopped him again, this time placing a hand over her neck.
"No," Robin began, realising he had managed to avoid the question. "Stop. Stop it. You didn't answer my question."
He respected her refusal to carry on and stopped reluctantly, sitting up with his back against the head of the bed. She did the same, and the way he looked at her – she could have sworn it was a plea as he muttered the next words. "Please don't do this right now."
"Please don't do what?" She asked again, determined to force a satisfying response out of him.
"I don't want to talk about us right now."
She took in his answer and crossed her arms, unsatisfied. She turned to him, looked him in the eye and took a deep breath; she prayed her words would come out smoothly when she opened her mouth next.
"Why not?"
"You're asking me a lot of questions and I don't know why you're doing this. Stop that. I'm not – we're not – the type of people to discuss feelings. You know that. So stop trying to force emotions out of my mouth."
Her gaze shifted to the blanket, and with her arms still crossed, she kept her head down as she felt tears prick her eyes. He did not notice until he heard a quiet sniffle coming from his side, and he softened immediately, a tiny, exhausted sigh escaping from his mouth.
"I'm sorry. Please don't cry… It's just… I don't know why you suddenly wanted a definition to our relationship."
"I don't want a definition, I just…" She paused and wiped a single tear with the back of her hand. "It's just… One second you're acting like we're friends but the next it's like you want more. I'm confused and I want to know what's going on."
He hated to see her cry, and for every single tear that rolled down her cheek, he felt as though he had been repeatedly stabbed in the heart. "You really want to know what's going on?"
Robin nodded, and his chest tightened as he found it a little harder to breathe.
"Well, you asked for it, so… I'll tell you, I guess."
And he did.
While he was good with words, he had no idea how to talk about his feelings. But despite that, he tried. For her.