<Don't be nervous,> Gordon signs to his boyfriend at the start of their flight. It's set to be five hours with one layover, and that's if the weather cooperates, which Gordon has warned him it may well not. But that's not why Barney's anxious.

He couldn't care less about the jolt when the plane takes off, or the pressure, or the toddler crying behind them in coach. God, when's he ever gonna get to say that again, huh? That he flew first class.

Because Gordon's parents had insisted. Gordon had just kind of laughed, embarrassed, and shrugged it off, but Barney's scared now. Now, not only is he sullying their son, he's also that loser security guard who they spent a fat wad of cash on a first class ticket for. He checked the prices. He knows how much they put down for his flight, and he also knows he can't exactly pay them back, so the imagined debt is just hanging over him, ready to swipe down like a guillotine at any moment.

<Relax,> Gordon signs. Barney nods, gives him a smile, as if he's not burning up on the inside. Like a--a goddamn... volcano, or something, ready to explode with nerves.

They're flying out of Albuquerque on the rainiest day in November, the 18th. Barney thinks that can't be a good sign, as rain pelts the window to his right. He grimaces and pulls the window shade down.

Gordon reads for a good chunk of the flight, flipping pages faster than Barney would. The guard closes his eyes and tries to force himself to sleep, but there's a storm inside his mind, worse than the rain.

What if Gordon's parents don't like him?

No, scratch that. Back it up and start over.

Gordon's parents are going to hate him, and they're going to make the week miserable for him, and he's probably going to end up in fucking Seattle with a gun to his head this time, and then Gordon's going to dump him for some slick Seattle guy. "Sorry Barney," Gordon will laugh, and flash him a grin, "but I'm attracted to Seattle Joe--"

"Barney," Gordon says softly, placing a hand on his thigh, and Barney opens his eyes to find that he's been sleeping. His foot is asleep, and his neck is sore. "Relax, b...baby." He turns bright red at the word coming out of his own mouth.

Barney flushes, because first of all: Gordon never whips out the pet names with him. Second, he said it out loud, in that cute, soft voice of his. Third--god, he doesn't care what his third point was, he's just flustered now, and wishes the flight attendant would finish whatever she's doing nearby so that they can have some privacy to make goo-goo eyes at each other.

Right now though, he can't look Gordon in the eye at all. This is made worse when Gordon tries to lift his chin with a fingertip, smiling lovingly at him. The flight attendant stands there awkwardly, waiting to ask if they need anything.

"We're fine," Barney says to dismiss her, clears his throat, and looks over at Gordon. He's tired too, Barney knows. He's been working hard so that they can go on this trip, their second in a year.

Because Lord knows the first one was shit.

Barney had been amazed by Black Mesa's medical staff's success. You could barely tell how badly his nose had been broken, once they were through with him. It healed so well, he looked nearly as good as he had when he'd left Black Mesa, on the flight to Beaumont.

But no matter how fast the bruises and lacerations may have healed, there's a hurt that lingers. He has nightmares. A lot of them, actually. Dreams that he wakes up from to find Ed standing by the bed with a shotgun--and then wakes up from again, cold and sweaty, gasping for air.

Gordon kind of offhandedly mentioned therapy one time. Once. Barney had refused in such a way that he had never brought it up again. Is he that sick in the head, that he needs a doctor to poke at his brain, study him like a rat? No, Barney thinks, no, he hopes not.

He knows Gordon has a therapist that he sees on occasion. He's open about it, and that's good and all, Barney's glad he takes care of himself--but somehow he can't stand the idea of going to a shrink for himself. How would that first meeting even go? Hi, my name's Barney Calhoun, and I'm a faggot.

So what if his perceptions of therapy are warped? So the closest he's ever been is to one singular AA meeting. Whatever. Gordon dozes in the seat to his left, breathing soft and slow and steady. He deserves a little rest, Barney thinks. Maybe they both do.

He's scared, though, of what might be waiting for him in his dreams. Of what's waiting in Seattle. Gordon's folks. He's never asked about them, out of respect. Or maybe it's just cowardice. If he has to see Gordon sign that his parents are just as bad as Barney's, he'll break.

But Gordon's assured him multiple times now that it won't be anything like the trip to Texas. He's trying to keep his faith in the man, really, but it's hard when he's been so badly burned.

He stays awake the whole trip, jiggling his leg anxiously. Gordon jolts awake when they're landing, wheels coming down on the tarmac, and smiles sleepily at him. Squeezes his hand.

Barney does his damndest not to pull away. Seattle is different, Gordon had told him before. Even nicer than Houston.

So he keeps his hand laced with Gordon's, even as they're let off the plane and into the airport, towards the gate. No one says a thing, and he's got his eyes peeled for anyone who may be giving them looks, but there's just nothing. Just people, going about their business, waiting for flights.

He almost walks right past Gordon's parents, and his boyfriend has to tug on his hand and point them out. They're here?! Barney slips his hand free, casual-like, switching his carry-on to that hand. Gordon doesn't seem to notice the slight, just walks into his mom's hug and lets her kiss his cheek.

"Welcome home, sweetheart," she says, and then finally releases Gordon and takes a look at Barney. He swallows. He feels like he's intruding, on their family, on their whole state. Washington ain't big enough for all of them, somehow. Not for Barney and Gordon and Gordon's tall, professional-looking parents.

"Barney," Gordon's mom says, and then she's hugging him, as Barney stiffens up. Is this, uh... is this normal? No? No way, no how.

She releases him as he's starting to relax, just in time for Gordon's dad, Mister Freeman, to approach Barney too. He sticks his hand out for the handshake as the man pulls him into a hug with a "welcome to Washington, son. Good to meet you." Barney just blinks and lets Gordon's dad hug him for a long, long ten seconds.

"I'm Rob, this is my wife, Diane. Gordon's told us a lot about you." Rob looks stern, Barney thinks, unsure if he's just projecting or not. His hair is greying, but clearly he was brunette at some point. He's clean shaven, setting him apart from Gordon, though their facial structure is similar.

Barney kind of chokes, glances at Gordon. "Yeah, uh... hopefully good things, sir."

Rob quirks a brow, taking his carryon bag from his grasp. "Nothing but good things, and plenty of them," he promises. "Gordon gets chatty when it comes to you."

Gordon protests, <That's not true, I do not.> His cheeks are pink.

"Oh, don't be embarrassed," Diane teases. "We all know you love Barney." She's not as tall as Rob or Gordon, but still at least a couple inches taller than Barney. Her hair is long and straight, greying red down her back.

Barney freezes, while Gordon fumbles with his hands and looks away. "Are you tired from the flight, Barney?" she asks, as Gordon signs something behind her back.

<I do, but stop...>

"No ma'am," Barney says. He's not sure what to do with his hands if he doesn't have a bag to carry. Usually he would hold Gordon's hand, but that just feels dangerous right now--

"Call me Diane," she says, and Barney must look terrified at that idea, because Rob chuckles and pats his shoulder again.

"And I'm Rob," he reminds him, "not "sir.""

He's trying to figure out their angle, as they walk through the terminal. Gordon signs with his dad, something about physics, Barney realizes, when he finally catches one of the signs. Gordon's carrying his own bags, but Rob insists on taking Barney's suitcase too, which feels wrong as hell, but he's too nervous to argue about it. Diane walks between Gordon and Barney, engaging the latter in a one-sided conversation.

"I figured you boys would be tired from travelling all day, so I planned on a home cooked meal for tonight... Do you like fish, Barney?"

"Yes'm," he says, barely catching the slip himself. He stands by, feeling weirdly lost as Diane presses her key fob to unlock the car, and Rob starts loading the bags in the trunk. He should be doing something, something with his hands to show that he's a man, but he has no idea what, until Gordon slips their fingers together again, smiles at him, and kisses his temple.

Barney feels himself go red. Gordon chuckles. The rain starts coming down as they're climbing into the car, a light sprinkle that drops against the windshield like a hesitant kiss.

"Let me know if I need to turn the heater up," Diane says, buckling herself into the driver's seat. Gordon's sitting behind her, rubbing his thumb over the back of Barney's hand, wiping away his worries one swipe at a time.

Maybe it's fine, Barney thinks, eyelids drooping. Maybe it's gonna be alright.

His first thought when Gordon shakes him awake is God, I hope I wasn't snoring. They're in the driveway of a nice house with a big yard, surrounded by trees. It's all pretty and green under the stormy grey sky. Barney yawns, climbing out of the car to follow Gordon towards the door.

"What about our bags?" he asks, a little nervously.

<Dad's got it,> Gordon signs, pulling him by the hand into the entryway. Barney licks his lips, looking around as Gordon pulls him through the living room. He wasn't sure what to expect. A picture perfect magazine house, fake and unblemished, like his parents' place? Or a laboratory, full of beakers and big switches and sharp, shiny tools? It's just kinda...

Normal. Classy, but normal. Gordon's ma definitely doesn't shop in the Target home goods section, he thinks, as they enter the kitchen, which looks like a professional chef could live in it happily--but there's nothing exceptionally, remarkably notable about the decor, other than that there are a couple photos of Gordon and his family here and there. Cute pictures. Pre-beard pictures, some of them!

Gordon helps himself to the fridge, grabbing a couple of beers, and turns the picture frame that Barney's looking at face-down. He rolls his eyes playfully.

"Just never seen you so baby faced," Barney says. The house isn't a shrine to him, not like the Calhoun home is a shrine to Lauren and her boys, but his parents have kept his presence around, Barney sees. They pass back through the hallway and Gordon heads up the stairs, as Rob and Diane come through the front door, talking excitedly about something sciencey.

Barney hurries upstairs after Gordon, down another hallway and to a closed, undecorated door. Gordon moves both beers to one hand and turns the knob, opening his room to Barney.

He's unsure what he expected here, either. Gordon ushers him in first, shutting the door behind himself, and hands Barney one of the beers. He takes a drink, slow and measured, and looks around at Gordon's bedroom.

<Pretty boring,> Gordon sets his beer on the edge of his desk and signs. <Sorry.>

"No, it's... I'm just relieved, I guess," Barney says, as Gordon closes the distance between them and hugs him. Barney holds onto him, eyeing the Madonna poster on the wall over his desk, piled with books.

<You seem tired,> Gordon signs to him. <You can lay down if you want to.>

"No, no... I'm just--anxious," he decides, landing on the word. Gordon tilts his head and cups Barney's cheek.

<I wouldn't bring you into a bad situation, Barney,> Gordon signs as Barney sits on the edge of his bed. <If my parents weren't supportive of me, and us, I wouldn't have brought you here.>

He means it kindly, reassuringly. But it stings like a crack in Barney's heart, because he knows that's exactly what he did. He took Gordon into a bad situation, dangerous even, made him go through that, all because he was scared to talk about how bad his family could be. Didn't even give his boyfriend a warning first.

---

Barney naps for a bit, off and on, at Gordon's insistence. It's dark out when he starts to wake up, but he knows that doesn't mean a lot up north, in mid November.

Gordon's gone, not in the room. Barney pulls back the blanket Gordon had covered him with and climbs off his bed. He shuts the bedroom door behind him once he's out in the hall, listening for signs of life. Nothing, for a long moment, and then he hears a soft laugh from downstairs.

It's still quiet when he steps into the downstairs hallway. Kind of eerie, Barney thinks, paranoia creeping in to make a home in his heart. He swallows, approaching the entrance to the living room.

Gordon grins at him from the couch, where he's signing back and forth with his parents, some funny story that Barney kind of remembers. He's still tired, still out of it, but comes forward when Gordon beckons him. Rob stands up from the couch, moves to an armchair.

"Go ahead son, have a seat."

Barney squashes the paranoid feeling and boots it out, sitting down on Gordon's left.

"Dinner's almost ready," Diane tells him, standing to go check on the meal as Gordon signs to ask if he feels better.

"Yeah, darlin, I'm fine," Barney says, letting Gordon pick up his hand and hold it. He's still nervous, waiting for the second in a pair of boots to drop. He remembers that kind of symbolism from an old cowboy book, All the Pretty Horses. One of the characters loses a boot in a flood, and then another boot when he's being dragged off to be executed. Big reader he is not, but it's one of those visuals that's stuck with him.

But it seems like things are safe, at least for now. Some delicious smell is wafting out of the kitchen, and his stomach, ignored all day until now, growls urgently. Gordon laughs and stands.

<I'm going to go get you a roll,> he signs, and then heads for the kitchen before Barney can protest.

That leaves just Barney and Rob. A chill runs up Barney's spine at the sudden intrusive thought of Gordon, left alone with his father. That wouldn't end well, his brain whispers, poking and prodding at him like a bear in a cage. Fear crawls up and down his arms in goosebumps.

"So Gordon tells me you're a guard at Black Mesa," Rob starts, and Barney nods sharply, straightening up.

"Yes sir."

Rob smiles at him, a soft expression. "You can call me Rob, Barney, like everyone else." Barney nods again. "How do you like your work?"

"I like it," Barney says, surprised by the question. Nobody asks about his work--they ask Gordon, how's the physics going, how're those... particles and beams and stuff, but no one wants to know about guard stuff.

"How long have you been at Black Mesa?" Rob asks, leaning forward as if he's interested.

"Almost two years," Barney says. "Well--two years next month, actually."

Gordon returns as Rob's asking him about the weapons training and hands Barney a roll from the dinner table, still warm. "Well, sure, you gotta be able to handle a gun, just about any kind they hand you, but there's more to it," Barney says, and bites into the roll. Gordon settles in right beside him, their thighs touching, hip to knee. "There's hazardous waste training--"

"Does hazardous waste come up a lot?" Rob asks, an eyebrow raised.

<NDA,> Gordon signs, and Barney stammers, remembering that yes, there is a non disclosure agreement. He doesn't usually forget that--but people don't usually care about his work.

"Come on Gordon," Rob laughs, then signs. <I know Black Mesa must produce thousands of tonnes of toxic waste. Who am I going to tell?>

<The alien overlords I work for won't be pleased that you know that,> Gordon signs, lips quirking into a smile at his own joke. Barney chokes and laughs, shoving him.

From behind Rob's chair, a big dark mass of hair stands up and walks over to Barney, and drops a wet tennis ball in his lap. It takes Barney entirely too long to figure out that it's a dog, all shaggy-haired. The creature rests its head on his knee, and Gordon reaches over to scritch it behind the ears and then signs its name to him.

<D O U G.> Barney nods, petting the dog, finding his ears under his hair. A pink tongue slides out of the dog's mouth, dragging over his hand.

"Doug's a good judge of character," Rob says, then pats his thigh to redirect the dog's attention. Doug takes back his tennis ball and carries it over to Rob, chewing on it against the leg of his pants. "Gordon says you're an X-files fan," he continues, and Barney blinks, surprised again.

"Yeah--I am..."

"What did you think of the season finale?" Rob asks, scratching Doug's ear.

"The cliffhanger?" he asks, for confirmation. Rob nods. "I mean, it's aliens, obviously--"

"You don't think the smoking man had anything to do with it?" Rob asks, leaning back, folding his hands in his lap.

"Well--" Barney looks to Gordon for support-- "I mean, could be both, right?" Is he being made fun of? Rob thinks he's stupid, he gets it now. That's why he's calling Barney's expertise into question.

"You think the smoking man is working with aliens," Rob surmises.

"No, I think that there's a complex power struggle--"

"And Mulder's funeral?"

"Well, he's comin back," Barney scoffs, frustrated. "They won't leave it as just Scully."

"Of course," Rob laughs, looking up as Diane enters through the kitchen to announce that dinner's done.

It's as if Gordon can read his mind, and it's not the first time Barney's had that thought. Gordon stops him at the hallway, signing. <Sorry, dad gets really into scifi shows. Don't ask about his Farscape theories.> A pause, as Gordon's hands still. <Are you upset?>

<No, of course not.> He forces a smile and starts forward again. "Just hungry, s'all."

<Barney,> Gordon signs, concerned as he follows him to the dining room. Again, when he's ignored, but out loud: "Barney!"

His voice is soft but urgent, and Barney sighs, looking back at him. <I love you,> Gordon signs, pouting as he comes closer. Barney signs it back, knocking their hands together.

Doug follows them to the dining room, then drops to the floor in the doorway, blocking the exit with a big, heartfelt sigh. Barney sits next to Gordon, across from Diane. Rob's serving the food some kind of white fish, creamy mashed potatoes with all the toppings, crispy asparagus, a side salad, wild rice and mixed veggies.

He's hungry, but not that hungry, Barney thinks, as Rob serves him up. Gordon shoos his dad away when he tries to pile his plate high, shaking his head.

"Rob," Diane says firmly.

"I just don't think they're feeding him enough," Rob says, setting the bowl of potatoes down and settling into his seat.

"He's a grown man," Diane says, as Gordon looks at Barney and rolls his eyes, pointedly, but he's smiling.

<Try the fish,> he signs, when Barney seems unsure where to start. He nods and takes a bite.

<It's delicious,> he informs Gordon, chewing. <What kind is it?>

<Mahi mahi,> Gordon signs.

<It's really good. I don't think I've had it before,> Barney replies.

Diane's fork clatters against her plate and the table. She stares at them for a long moment. <What?> Gordon asks, eyebrow raised.

"I just--I didn't realize," Diane says, lowering her eyes. She's tearing up. Is mahi mahi such a big deal around here? Is he going to be kicked out for not knowing? "That he was fluent."

<I told you he was,> Gordon signs, confused.

"We thought you were... stretching the truth," Rob says, and Barney glances at him to find he's misty eyed too.

Gordon huffs. "You really learned a whole language... not just pidgin, but fluent sign language? For our son?" Rob asks.

"Uh," Barney says, "well, yeah, cause I really li..." He clears his throat. Whoops! Don't be too sappy! "I wanted to get to know him, so..."

"That's incredible," Diane says, dabbing her eyes with her napkin.

Gordon signs, <I told you I was serious, he picked up all the basic signs within two weeks. Maybe less.>

"We know, we just thought..." Rob trails off. Barney's eyebrow twitches. Thought what, that he was too stupid to learn a little sign language? God, he's not even sure why he's so ticked off at Gordon's dad, why he sees him as such an inherent enemy, other than the obvious reason.

"We didn't realize it was so serious," Diane says, eyes red and puffy. She smiles at Barney.

<How did you think we were communicating this whole time,> Gordon asks, with an exasperated sigh. <I told you, Barney's a genius.>

Barney coughs, choking on a grain of rice in his embarrassment, and turns to hide his face. Gordon rubs his shoulder--but seriously, he's choking now, and Gordon has to thump him on the back a couple times too.

"Quit it," he hisses at Gordon when he's recovered. Gordon just signs it again.

Diane and Rob just gaze at him in wonder like he's got two heads. Barney flushes, taking another bite of mahi mahi. (Which is really tasty.)

---

Barney follows Gordon back to his room after dinner, carrying a couple of beers each. Rob had waved them away from helping with the dishes, insisting that they're guests, they're on vacation, take a load off and have a drink.

He's just in a sour mood now, after Gordon's folks made such a big deal out of it. The storm in his head only gets worse as they enter Gordon's room again, shutting the door to the hallway behind them. Barney sits down on the bed, sighs, and looks at Gordon.

"Does your dad think I'm stupid?"

Gordon blinks rapidly, mouth falling open in shock. <What?> He's never seen Gordon quite that dumbstruck, and it would be kinda funny in any other situation.

"I just gotta ask," Barney says, "Before I say somethin I regret."

Gordon approaches, taking the cold beer bottles out of Barney's grasp. He turns to set them on his desk, then sits beside Barney. <He knows you're not stupid, Barney. Why would he think that?>

Barney gives a half hearted shrug and shakes his head. He's tired, he's upset, and he just needs to get it out there. "I know I'm not smart enough for you Gordon, not... not even near your league, but--"

Gordon signs his name, sharply, and Barney grits his teeth. "They made such a big damn deal about me learning to sign--"

<Because it's amazing!> Gordon insists.

"Yeah, I get it, for a dumb guy like me," Barney grumbles.

<For anyone. You learned a whole language fluently in under a year. Barney. My parents have friends who've known me since I was a baby who can barely make simple conversation with me. My parents just didn't expect..> His hands still for a second. <I never expected someone would want to talk to me so badly.> He puts a hand on Barney's cheek, stroking his five o'clock shadow.

"I just don't think your parents... I don't think your dad thinks much of me,"Barney says, feeling himself tear up. Normally he wouldn't even care, would say to hell with anyone who doesn't like him, but it's hurtful to think that Gordon's dad might not like him. What if that bleeds into Gordon, what if he realizes that he's too good for Barney too?

He bows his head, pressing his fingertips to the bridge of his nose. If he thinks about it, he can imagine the pain, the swelling and bruising and breakage that the Black Mesa doctors had so carefully erased from him. Gordon rubs his back.

He feels even stupider, crying in his boyfriend's childhood bedroom. This trip was supposed to be better than the last one--and no one's broken his face yet, no one's pointed a gun at him yet, but still--

"Barney," Gordon whispers to him, "m-my... d-dad, likes you..." Barney sniffles loudly, squeezing his eyes shut. "Barney..."

He knows he should look at Gordon, let him sign, but Barney doesn't want him to see his face right now. Even if the alternative is mean, making him stammer and struggle to speak up.

"B-buh, mmm... Beca... Cause of the X F-files?" Gordon asks softly, and Barney shakes his head, because now that he puts it that way it sounds real stupid.

Barney may love hearing his voice, but Gordon's clearly getting flustered, trying to carry on a verbal conversation, because the next thing he says is just a jumble. "H-he w--he wa--h-wasn't tr... t-trying--Barneeeeey..."

His name is just a whine, and Barney lifts his head, nodding and wiping his eyes. "Sorry, darlin." Gordon's frowning at him, face red, as he signs.

<He was just excited to meet another fan.>

"Okay," Barney croaks.

<You think I'm lying>

"No, I don't." He kisses Gordon's hands apologetically. "I just--I don't know, Gordon, I just feel bad."

He's lying, because he does know, and it tickles at his conscience. Gordon nods, and signs <I think you should get a bath and go to bed.> Barney sighs, leaning on his elbows.

"Yeah, I'll... I'll take a shower." Gordon stands with him, shows him to the bathroom and grabs him a clean towel and washcloth. He kisses Barney on the forehead, then closes the bathroom door behind himself.

Barney stays in the shower too long. His fingers are pruny and red when he finally steps out and wraps himself in one of the midnight blue towels. He feels...

Not better. Still hurt, and mad at himself for being hurt, but at least he's clean now. He sits on the toilet lid, towel around his waist, and rubs his face. Gordon's right, he should go to bed. He's probably just tired, that's all.

He hurries across the hall, back to Gordon's room, to change into something he can sleep in. He pulls on a t-shirt and pajama pants, doubles back to brush his teeth, then heads down the stairs to get a glass of water real quick.

It's silent downstairs, he finds, stepping off into the dark hallway. The only light on is in the living room, and it doesn't reach the hall. He pauses, seeing movement, and inches towards the entrance.

"Of course," Rob says, in response to something Barney didn't hear. He peeks. Rob's sitting in the armchair again, his right ankle balanced on his left knee. Gordon is standing to his side, signing to him and Diane, and Barney recognizes his name sign right away.

<Barney's feelings are hurt.>

Aw, fuck, Gordo! he thinks, and nearly walks in to stop him. But Gordon looks upset, and his parents look surprised.

"Because of something we did?" Rob asks, and Gordon nods.

<He was really nervous to come meet you, and he feels like you...> Gordon fumbles with his hands, thinking. Unsure. <Like you think he's stupid.>

"What?" Rob asks, looking surprised, confused.

"Honey, we don't think that," Diane says, and Gordon shakes his head.

<You were both really surprised by him knowing sign. It hurt his feelings>

Thank God, he's leaving out the thing about the X-files.

"Gordon, it was impressive! He picked it up for you so fast, he's leagues better than we thought anyone could be so soon after starting."

"Marie has been trying to study for six years, and Barney surpassed her in two," Diane says. "He's amazing."

<I love him a lot,> Gordon signs.

"And we love you," Rob says.

"Should you talk to him?" Diane asks Rob, and Gordon shakes his head, waves his hands.

<Just watch what you say. He's having a hard time.>

Barney heads back upstairs without any water, and Gordon joins him about ten minutes later.

<Are you tired?> Gordon asks, and Barney nods, surprised at how exhausted he actually is.

"Yeah, I... I think I'm gonna go to bed." Barney stands, and Gordon pulls back the clean sheets and tucks him in.

<I'll be right back. I'm going to shower,> Gordon informs him, and Barney nods, then yawns hard. He's out like a light after that, stirring just slightly when Gordon crawls into bed to spoon him.

---

Barney wakes up with his arm dead. They must have moved around in their sleep, and Gordon ended up on his right shoulder--which is fine, but the pins and needles hurt. He tries to carefully extract himself, but Gordon just moves closer, murmuring, and starts kissing on his neck.

Barney groans, shaking Gordon's shoulder. "Darlin, let me up. You're on my arm." Gordon blinks his eyes open slowly and rolls over to let Barney move. When his arm stops throbbing, Barney crawls closer again, pressing his face into Gordon's neck to breathe him in.

Gordon murmurs sleepily, reaching back for him. Barney sucks at a spot below his ear, and he drapes an arm over Gordon, hand slipping beneath the waistband of his pajama pants.

Gordon whines, muscles jumping under Barney's fingertips. He finishes with the hickey on the side of Gordon's neck, moves his mouth down to the junction where it meets his shoulder, kissing and biting as he rubs him.

Gordon shifts, moving his legs apart. He groans when Barney strokes down from his tdick towards his pussy, then back up, spreading slick over him. Barney barely even considers that they're in Gordon's parents' house, this is just so normal for the two of them.

Gordon can't take his slow, gentle touch much longer he turns, climbing onto Barney to grind down on him through their pajamas. Barney groans, rutting his hips up to meet his boyfriend.

"Darlin, ah... You wanna...?" Gordon nods, already pulling his pajamas down, thin strings of slickness connecting the crotch of his pants to his pussy. Barney rubs him again and Gordon jerks, biting his lip. Barney rubs him through it, until Gordon shudders and lets out a little cry.

"Happy birthday, birthday boy," Barney teases, licking his fingers clean as Gordon starts to tug at Barney's pajamas. Gordon's slightly out of it, still coming down and half asleep to boot he just signs <gift,> one handed as he strokes Barney, squeezing at the tip.

"Ah--don't worry, baby, I got you a real present too," Barney assures him, jerking up into his touch. "Fuck, darlin, slow down a bit."

<Cum.>

"Baby," Barney protests. Gordon stops stroking him for a moment to kick off his damp pajama bottoms and straddle him again. He yanks Barney's pants down, exposing his erection, and crawls forward so that it presses against him.

<Cum for the birthday boy,> Gordon signs, and it's gotta be the stupidest, horniest, least sexy thing Gordon's said in a while. Barney just barks out a laugh, putting his hands on Gordon's hips.

"Jesus Christ, Gordon," he snickers, cutting himself off when Gordon starts to slide down onto him. "Ahh--fuck, that's good darlin, jus' like that..." Barney's eyes flutter shut as Gordon rides him, fingertips digging into his hips. He peeks when Gordon grabs his wrist, leading it back to his tdick. "Yeah, alright, I get it, I'll do my part..."

Gordon comes again after a few minutes, breathing hard as he clenches around Barney. "Fuck," Barney hisses, thrusting up to meet him. He grabs Gordon by the hips again and rolls them over, plowing into him full force as Gordon yelps and squirms, overstimulated.

"You gonna cum again baby?" he asks, peppering Gordon's face and neck with kisses. "Mister birthday boy?"

Gordon moans loudly, reaching for something to grab onto. He's drooling, teeth grit, and he's so fucking hot, Barney thinks, snapping his hips into him. Gordon half-yells when he comes again, spasming around him, pussy too wet and slick for Barney to hold back any longer he just buries himself to the hilt, presses his face into Gordon's neck and gasps through his orgasm, hips shaking.

Gordon pulls him closer when he tries to pull out and kisses him, arms wrapped around his shoulders. "I love you too, baby," Barney says, "but you gotta let me pull out, or we're gonna be here all day."

<That's what I want for my birthday,> Gordon signs, and Barney snorts.

"What, you ain't gonna show me any of Seattle?"

<Horny,> Gordon protests. Barney ducks his head and kisses him again, pulling away. Gordon huffs at him. <Let me suck you off.>

"Get out of bed, you horndog," Barney laughs. Gordon whines, grabbing onto his waist as Barney's standing up.

"Barney..." His voice is breathy, needy.

"I know, I know you just had your shot th'other day, but c'mon, I bet your folks are waitin for us to get up." He pulls away, adjusting his pajama pants. Gordon drops his head down in the sheets. "Gordon."

<HORNY>

"How d'you ever even get any work done," Barney laughs, petting his hair. "You can suck me off after breakfast, how's that? You like that?" Gordon sighs, lifts his head to nod, and climbs off the bed.

Gordon's pulling a shirt down over his chest when Barney spots the hickey he left. He could kick himself right now. It's way too far above the collar of the shirt. What the fuck had he been thinking, marking Gordon like that?

For a second he's looking not at Gordon but at himself, sixteen and similarly marked. He'd failed to hide it well, and either mom or Lauren had seen, he doesn't recall which...

Just remembers the yelling, Ed's voice and his own, the belt coming off so that his dad could beat him.

He flinches, remembering the snap as it came down on him, and Gordon tilts his head--because it's not him, it is Gordon, smiling and signing <You wanna go again?>

"No," Barney laughs, rubbing his face. "You hungry? I could eat."

---

They make it to breakfast eventually. Maybe it's more like brunch. Diane pours Barney coffee, her back to Gordon as he signs things that make Barney turn redder and redder.

"Gordon," Diane says without looking, and he promptly stops. "Go sit down."

Gordon laughs, dropping into the chair beside Barney, and jostles him with his leg. Barney sips his coffee, raising an eyebrow.

<What do you want to do today?>

Barney shrugs. "S'your birthday."

<You know what I want,> Gordon signs, and Barney chokes on his coffee. <You promised I could suck your cock>

"Well we usually go to the botanical gardens, and then lunch," Diane says, ignoring Gordon by sheer force of will, "but I understand if you want to spend your time together instead."

They're both looking at him. Barney sputters, clears his throat. "No, no, we're here to see you folks..."

<You can fuck me in the greenhouse>

"Gordon, you know I can understand you," Diane sighs, and Gordon freezes mid-sign and puts his hands down on the table.

<I forgot,> he admits meekly, looking properly bashful about it. Rob comes walking in, stopping to kiss the top of Diane's head, and Doug follows him to lay his head heavily on Barney's knee.

"You're not allowed in here and you know it," Rob says to the dog, who grumbles and lays down at Barney's feet. The moment he looks away, Diane slips the dog a sliver of fried egg. Rob's eyes land on Gordon for a moment, going to the hickeys on his neck. "So, what's the plan for today?"

Everyone's looking at Barney again, as if he knows anything about Seattle. "I'm good with anything," he mumbles after a moment, busying himself with finishing his coffee. "It's your birthday," he says again pointedly, when Gordon makes puppy dog eyes at him. His hand lands on Barney's thigh, trails up and squeezes, and it takes everything in his power not to jump or curse.

"Botanical gardens," Barney says, in what he hopes is a decisive tone.

"You got it, son," Rob says, and smiles at him.

---

Breakfast passes quickly Rob and Diane take turns slipping Doug scraps when the other isn't looking. Barney heads upstairs to shower, while Diane corners Gordon into helping her tidy up.

As he's rinsing the shampoo from his hair, the shower curtain moves aside, and Gordon steps in behind him. "Hey, babydoll," Barney says, grinning back at him. Gordon presses up against his back, and he feels hot, flushed as he reaches around to stroke Barney's cock to hardness. Barney groans, melting under his touch and the spray of hot water.

Gordon stops once he's hard and kneels. Barney turns, letting Gordon pull him closer to bite his thigh, lick at his erection, and take him eagerly into his throat. "God, Gordon," Barney groans, and Gordon signs up to him.

<Give me my present>

"This ain't your present," Barney insists, as Gordon bobs his head and chases the next thought out of his mind. His eyes fall shut as he moans, leaning against the shower wall. Gordon's voice rumbles around him, and Barney cracks his eyes open, looking down to find he's stroking himself.

It's too hot, too good of a sight. Barney snaps his hips forward and Gordon gags, signs <harder> God dammit, he knows how hot he is, Barney thinks, gasping as he fucks Gordon's throat.

"Face or mouth," he pants out. "Tell me where you want it." Gordon just pulls closer, burying his nose in Barney's pubic hair, breathing hard. Barney twists his fingers into Gordon's wet hair, tugging on his un-tied ponytail as he comes, groaning hoarsely. Gordon swallows around him, drinking it down--and if he hadn't just come, he would've done it then.

"Is that enough birthday cum for you?" Barney asks, as Gordon starts to stand. He pulls Barney into a kiss, guiding his hand towards his crotch, wet and needy. Barney pulls him flush against his body, rubbing his tdick as Gordon pants, breaking the kiss to push his face into his boyfriend's neck.

"Good boy," Barney croons, when Gordon comes with a strangled noise. He pulls his hand back, slick and sticky, and Gordon watches him closely as he licks his fingers clean.

<More.>

Barney licks his lips and nods, kneeling in front of him, pushing him back against the shower wall where he'd stood a minute before. He wonders if Gordon can even see him with his glasses off as he leans in, nuzzling at his hip.

He licks Gordon's cock, and his boyfriend hisses, pressing his hips forward urgently. Barney kisses him, then takes his tdick into his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue, eyes on Gordon's face.

<More,> Gordon signs, and Barney almost laughs as he sucks him off. He doesn't let up until Gordon's squirming and whining, getting close--and then he just stops, stands up, and steps back into the shower spray.

"Baby. I'll fuck your brains out tonight, but we gotta get goin." Gordon stares at him from where he's leaned against the wall, chest heaving.

"Wh--B-Barney!"

"Gives you a little somethin to look forward to, don't it?" He smirks, turning to wash himself off as Gordon stands there, dumbfounded.

<Please,> he signs when Barney looks back at him. He's got his hips pressed forward, desperate.

"No, and you ain't gonna touch yourself either."

<Barneeeeey>

"Get washed up," Barney says with a shrug.

Gordon huffs, grabbing the shampoo. Barney pretends not to notice the dark glare shot his way as he climbs out of the shower, leaving Gordon to figure his shit out.

<Barney Calhoun sucks cock and does it well,> Gordon signs to him as he's climbing out of the shower, skin flushed. <But he won't finish the job.>

"You be patient," Barney says, blushing and turning to finish shaving. Last time someone'd said something like that to him--

---

Woulda been high school, if he had to think about it.

"You Barney Calhoun?" one of the seniors had asked him when he'd caught him behind the school gym. Barney had been too scared to say anything, one way or the other, just followed his hands as he unbuckled his belt. "I heard you suck dick real good."

He had a big game coming up, the senior had informed him, fucking his mouth, and he'd been so stressed about it, all he'd been able to do to calm down was jack off. Barney, mouth preoccupied, didn't say anything in response, just sucked him off and did his best to swallow when the other boy finished.

He had been good and familiar with that kind of situation, meeting boys behind the gymnasium to blow each other, promising in husky voices that it's not gay, it's just stress relief, I got a big test coming up this Friday--

---

"Fuck," Barney hisses, yanking the razor away from his jaw when it nicks him. He'd been too wrapped up in his own thoughts, too lost in memory to pay attention. Gordon glances at him, first with a wry smile. It gives way to concern, and he comes closer.

<Are you okay?>

"Yeah, just a little cut. I'll live."

Gordon shakes his head. <Are you okay?>

"Of course, just excited about your birthday," Barney lies, smiling at him until Gordon nods and goes back to getting ready.

---

It's afternoon by the time they load into the car and head out. Diane's driving again, and Barney's awake this time. Seattle is a different ballgame, he soon learns, as they get on the highway. Diane switches lanes fast, driving defensively and faster than Barney had expected.

Gordon squirms in the seat beside him, and Barney finds his hand and swipes his thumb over the back of it.

Out of nowhere, the car slows and stops on the highway, at the tail end of a traffic jam. "It might be a while," Rob announces. Diane sighs. Gordon shifts subtly, pressing his thighs together as Barney stares out the window.

They move less than a mile in 20 minutes, and there's no sight of what started the traffic jam. Just cars, in every direction. Barney watches the car to their right as the driver tries to merge, uselessly.

He has plenty of time to think, and his thoughts wander back to highschool. Ed and Barbie had sent him to private school, one of those places with the damn uniforms. At the time, Barney had hated having to wear them, but it was probably a blessing, not having to rely on his own sense of style...

---

The senior boy he'd sucked off before the game came back, inevitably. It wasn't that Barney spent all his time behind the gym, but there were few places he could go to smoke, or--if he was lucky and got ahold of some booze, drink. The senior was taller than him, muscular. Barney doesn't remember his facial features, just his dirty blonde hair...

Just being pressed against the back wall of the school gym, a knee slotted between his thighs--and he hadn't been able to help it, grinding against the older boy. He'd been a horny teenager.

"Were you at the game?" the boy asked him, and Barney hadn't answered, unsure what was the correct thing to say. "We won," the senior informed him, and then pressed his face into Barney's neck, inhaled, and sucked a dark hickey into his skin.

His hand found the bulge in Barney's uniform pants, rubbing him teasingly through them. No one ever got him off, no one ever paid him back, and this was kind of new ground, being kissed and bit on his throat as the boy unzipped his slacks, pulled his cock out to stroke him. Barney just held onto his shoulders, his broad, strong back as the boy marked him with dark, glaringly obvious love bites. His rough hand stroked slowly, his blunt thumbnail caught Barney's cockhead at the slit, and he moaned, vision going splotchy.

"You gonna cum for me?" the senior asked. "God, you're so pretty--"

---

The blare of a car horn cuts through Barney's memory and he jolts slightly, eyes coming back into focus. They're moving again, which is good. Gordon's frowning at his work phone, a hand on his chin. Barney shifts slightly, coming to the uncomfortable realization that he's sporting a chub. And of course he's wearing jeans today. The zipper presses into him when he moves his leg, sharp and discomforting and slightly reminiscent of something.

He's calming down, though. He's not about to nut in his pants in Gordon's parents' car, right in front of them, nor is he going to spend the day walking around horny. He decides that right away. His boner's going to go away and he can't stop thinking about-- about highschool in general. It's not like they were good years for him, overall.

Think about something nonsexual. Sports, there you go. Football. Uh, touchdown. His thoughts flicker back to the senior quarterback, kissing on his neck as he'd come. Stop that.

Gordon taps his arm to show him something on his phone. Barney swallows, turning his focus back to his boyfriend as Diane prepares to take the next exit.

---

The day passes in a bit of a blur. Barney hardly feels like he's been present for most of it. He can recall the trip to the botanical gardens, where he'd walked around holding Gordon's hand, and then lunch at some nice place with a great french dip--but he doesn't remember anything they talked about. He just feels out of it.

Gordon's on him the minute Barney steps back into his bedroom, shoving him towards the bed. He barely gets the door shut, just crawls on top of Barney, straddling his hips.

"Wait," Barney says, "hold on. Can we talk a bit?"

Gordon nods, but he's unbuttoning Barney's shirt as he does so. Barney licks his lips as Gordon unzips his jeans, rubbing him through his thin cotton underwear.

<You were so mean this morning,> Gordon signs to him. <Not letting me finish.> But there's a spark of excitement in his eyes, some part of him that took great pleasure in that. <I know you've been hard all day.>

"Let's just, uh--slow down a second," Barney says, as Gordon pushes his pants and boxers down. "Gordon--"

Ah. Well, cat's outta the bag. Barney chuckles nervously, as Gordon eyes him, hunger in his eyes.

<You said I could have whatever I want,> Gordon reminds him. <You said you'd fuck my brains out.>

"I guess I said somethin like that," Barney says, reaching for him. They kiss, and Gordon grinds against his boner, breathing hard. "Wait though," he says, when Gordon starts unzipping his own pants. Gordon pauses, blinks at him.

"I wanna talk to you," he says, and something flickers across Gordon's face, a realization. He nods, climbing off of Barney to let him sit up.

<What's wrong?>

"Not--not wrong, just... I'm..." He finds himself at a loss for what he wants to say. Gordon's being so patient, kneeling next to him on the bed, and he feels guilty, keeping him waiting.

"I just... hoo. I've been thinkin about stuff, the past couple days."

<About stuff..?>

"Yeah," Barney says, licking his lips. He doesn't know how much to tell Gordon, or where to even begin with unpacking what's been going on in his head the past two days. He rubs his face, trying to organize his thoughts. "I guess, uh. Bein' here has been a bit rough for me--not bad!" he insists, when Gordon looks briefly hurt. "Just... I keep thinkin back to when I was a kid, a teenager..."

Gordon strokes his cheek and Barney opens his eyes again. God, he loves him so much, and Barney has no idea how he's supposed to tell him what he's been thinking about all day.

"Honestly," Barney says finally, "I think I just wanna jack off and go to sleep."

<Do you want help, or do you want me to leave you alone?> Gordon signs, brow furrowed with worry. Barney bites his lip.

"I know it's your birthday," he starts. Gordon shakes his head, signing again.

<Do you need time alone?>

"I..." No, he doesn't want to be alone, not with his thoughts. "Could you maybe do it for me?"

<What else do you need?>

"I don't know yet," Barney admits, and allows himself to be laid back against the pillows. Gordon urges his thighs apart silently, kneeling between them, and Barney closes his eyes, gasping when Gordon grips his cock.

Gordon's hand is soft, familiar as it strokes him. Barney relaxes into the pillows, slowly but surely, as his boyfriend places a hand on his hip and rubs circles with his thumb.

---

"You're home late," Lauren had said, when Barney came through the front door. He just shrugged, kicking his shoes off, and made to head straight for his room.

"Dad's looking for you," Lindsey called after him, just as Lauren asked "did you walk home with those hickeys?" Barney froze, and his eyes went straight to the mirror by the front door. Sure enough...

The back door slammed, and Ed could be heard coming through the house, muttering to himself. Barney slipped into the back hallway, heading for the kitchen--and from there, he could make it to the basement and the cupboard.

But when he reached the kitchen, Barbie was there. She looked him up and down--disheveled and love-bruised--and ignored his frantic "mom, please--"

"Edmond! He's in here!"

"Mom!"

Ed came storming back, whipping his belt free from his pants as he entered the kitchen. He backed him into the door to the backyard, and Barney fumbled for the knob, falling out onto the porch.

"S'not what you think, sir," he said, scrambling away. He yelped reflexively when Ed swung the belt at him, before he even felt the pain.

"You think no one saw you boy?" Ed asked, and for a moment, Barney felt scared for the other boy. What kind of beating would he walk through the door to? But Ed continued, "one of my men saw you walking back from school, looking like this. You got an explanation for that?"

"I got beat up," Barney said, and then yelped and flinched when Ed struck him.

"Get up, you lying piece of shit." Nothing. "I said GET UP, boy!"

Barney stood slowly, glaring at Ed with all the hatred he had in him. Ed laughed. "Now I know you met some other faggot at school, cause where else would anyone pay you the time of day?" He reigned in the belt, wrapping it around his fist. "You tell me which queer it was, and I'll let you off easy."

Barney looked at his fist, then back to Ed's dark eyes. "No," he said, hands curling into fists at his sides. This was going to hurt like hell.

"You sure about that, boy?" A beat passed them by, and Ed advanced. "Answer me."

"I ain't tellin you shit," Barney spat at him, and Ed grabbed him by his untucked uniform shirt, spattering the white with red once he started hitting him.

---

"Barney!"

Barney sniffles, uncovering his eyes. At some point he must've slung his arm over his face to hide his tears--but Gordon sees them now, crawls closer, checking him over and then signing nervously.

<Did I hurt you?>

"No, Gordon--" he sucks in a shaky sob, shaking his head. Gordon looks so hurt. "No, I'm fine!"

<You need to tell me what's going on,> Gordon signs, hands shaking. <Barney, I don't know what's wrong.>

"S'okay," Barney sniffs, reaching for him. Gordon doesn't allow himself to be pulled down, just kneels there, watching him. "I don't wanna talk about it, Gordon," he says, voice a little too panicked, a little too loud. He hiccups and tries to catch his breath, but it keeps evading him, it's not coming back to him--

<You're having a panic attack.>

"N-no, this is, pshh, nothin--" Barney wipes his face quickly, sitting up. His chest heaves, trying to draw air in. Gordon puts a hand on his back, rubs between his shoulder blades as Barney sobs, choking on nothing.

"I just feel fucked up," Barney admits, when he finally catches his breath a bit. "I don't know, baby, I feel fucked up."

<What were you thinking about,> Gordon asks, and Barney looks away a little too fast, hiccuping. He couldn't possibly tell Gordon, not about his after school activities OR how his dad had beat him upon finding out, but especially not how it'd been all he could think about, all day. On his birthday!

But he can't leave Gordon in the dark. He knows that's not fair. He sucks in a shaking breath, eyes on Gordon's comforter.

"My, uh. My high school. Was a private school, with this god awful uniform."

Gordon nods, rubbing the back of his hand now too. Slow, smooth circles. Familiar hands.

"I used to..." he swallows. "I'd get up to some trouble there, all the time." Gordon says nothing, signs nothing, just lets him work up the courage to talk. "There was this spot behind the gym," he said, swallowing the lump in his throat. "You couldn't see it from any of the buildings. I'd go there to smoke, sometimes drink... and a lot of guys figured out, it was the perfect spot to go to uh. Fool around."

Gordon's hand twitches on his back, then resumes rubbing steady circles. Barney sighs, resolving himself to just saying it. "I used to go there to smoke and drink and suck guys off." He flinches despite himself, then presses on, defensive for no reason-- "It never went much further than that. Just, uh. Kissing, sometimes. Mostly blowjobs, handjobs."

"When I was a sophomore, or maybe at the start of my junior year... there was this quarterback. He, uh. Let me suck him off," Barney squeaks, and then clears his throat. "Then he came back a couple times, kissed me and jacked me off. I don't think it was gay for him, just..."

Gordon looks like he has something to say then, because his eyebrow raises a tiny bit. But he leaves his hands where they are.

"Just stress relief," Barney says, and rubs at his face. "A lot of guys did it for stress relief. I guess it was kind of a thing. Anyway, I came home one day, after--that, and someone'd told my dad about the state I was in. All tousled and marked up with hickies, half fucked..."

Gordon's eyes are so sad. "He beat the fuck out of me, because I wouldn't tell him who the other boy was. I figured--if I couldn't defend myself, I could at least protect him, but..." He laughs, bitter and without humor. "But he had no problem letting slip what a cocksucking queer I was. Didn't see him again after that, but by the time I went back to school, everyone just--knew."

Gordon squeezes his hand. "Got out of there as fast as I could," Barney says, "before I even had my diploma. But fuck, those last couple years were bad."

<I'm sorry,> Gordon signs.

Barney sniffles, signs <I love you,> and Gordon returns the gesture, bumps their hands together.

<Do you want to go home?> Gordon signs, after a while. Barney shakes his head.

"No, I just... I need to get outta my head a bit," Barney says. Gordon nods, then looks over to the door as one of his parents knocks. He stands, waiting for Barney to at least pull his pants back on before he opens the door a crack to talk to Rob.

"What do you boys want for dinner?" Rob asks, either failing to read the room or willfully ignoring Barney's puffy red eyes and half re-buttoned shirt.

<Pizza,> Gordon responds, trying to shut the door.

"What kind?"

Barney hears Gordon sigh. "Pepperoni," he calls, wincing at how hoarse his voice sounds.

Rob pauses, and Barney realizes he's probably made some mistake by speaking up. "You alright son?" he asks, peeking past Gordon to take him in, as Gordon signs hurriedly that <he's fine, just tired>

They step out into the hall, leaving Barney alone for a minute to button his shirt. Gordon comes back in, signs to him <I'm going to go pick up dinner, okay? Take a nap,> and kisses him on the forehead, stroking his hair.

It's not fair, Barney thinks, sitting on the edge of Gordon's bed after he's gone. It's not fair that he's ruining Gordon's birthday. Barney knows there's not really any special birthdays after you hit 21, and even that's only special if you haven't already been drinking illegally since you were 15--but Gordon's 27, and that's gotta count for something. He deserves a better day than this.

Barney gets up after a while, checks himself in the bathroom mirror to see if he's presentable. It's clear he's been crying, but he can laugh that off, claim it's allergies. Yup, those good ol' November allergies.

He heads downstairs and stops in the kitchen for a glass of water, then walks out into the living room. Rob's watching X-Files, an episode Barney's seen several times before, but he still lingers in the doorway, silent.

"Come have a seat," Rob invites him, glancing over. So Barney steps into the living room, trepidatious, and sits down on the edge of the couch cushion. "You sure you're alright?" Rob asks, and Barney feels his eyes get all hot again. Hoo boy, no, he's not gonna start bawling in front of Gordon's dad.

He just clears his throat, looks off to the side as if he's trying to locate something, as Doug approaches to try to give him his tennis ball. "Where's, ah... where's Diane?"

"She went with Gordon to get pizza," Rob says.

"Ah."

The X-files episode suddenly freezes, stopped mid scene, and Barney blinks at the tv for a moment, vision cloudy, before he realizes what's happened. Rob must have it on DVD or something.

Doug lets out a low whine, licking his chops, and then climbs up on the couch and rests his head on Barney's shoulder, dropping the ball into his lap. Barney sniffs, picks the tennis ball back up to hand it back to the dog.

"Why don't you tell me what's going on, son?" Rob asks, and Barney winces, squeezes his eyes shut. That only serves to make him start crying faster, and he covers his face, shaking his head.

"Hoo, no, no no no... I'm good, I'm fine." He tacks on a breathy sob of a laugh to really sell it. Because he's good, fine, he's normal!

He hears Rob standing up and can't help but flinch when his hand touches his shoulder. Rob doesn't seem to notice, or if he does, is undeterred he just rubs Barney's back, hands him his glass of water. "You don't have to tell me, just drink," he says, voice soft and soothing. "You can't drink and cry at the same time."

Gordon's told him the same thing before. Barney sniffles, lifting his head to choke down some of the water. "Sorry," he gasps, setting the glass down again. "Sorry, I'm jus'..."

"Nothing to apologize for, Barney," Rob says. "Gordon loves you, and that means we love you too. We care about you."

Barney chokes, whining softly. Doug slams his paw into Barney's arm, trying to shake hands. "Doug," Rob says sternly, trying to get the dog to leave him be.

"No, he's fine, it's--" Barney lifts his head enough to meet Rob's gaze: sad and worried. About him. Like he actually cares.

A very weird feeling worms into his chest, and as if he's downed ipecac, he pukes up so much metaphorical poison word vomit that just keeps coming. "I almost got Gordon killed," he sobs, vision going all blurry with tears, "when I took him to Texas. My dad's a piece of shit, he always has been, always--always hated me, even when I was a kid, because I was--because I'm gay. He beat the fuck out of me and chased us into the desert and I think we'd be dead if Gordon hadn't shot Dan. And it jus'--hangs onto me, all the time, this weight of him hating me, wanting me dead because I'm his worthless, cocksucking faggot son, and I don't know what I'm supposed to do with it, with the way that I feel, because nobody gets it, Gordon does cause he was there, but I don't wanna upset him, he's so good to me, but when I close my eyes I see my dad pointin that shotgun in my face again and I just feel so small--" He gasps for air, reaching shakily for the cup of water, which Rob hands to him.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do," he gasps at last, having downed the rest of his water. "I just--I wish I could just fuckin' hate him and be done with it, but he's my dad too. I don't know how to let go of that."

Rob stares at him for a long moment and Barney thinks he's really done it now, really fucked it up. But Gordon's dad just wipes his eyes and resumes rubbing Barney's back and his shoulder.

"I don't know what I'm s'posed to do," Barney repeats, rubbing his eyes with the finger and thumb of his right hand. "All I know is I'm mad as hell he tried to hurt Gordon. I don't even care about the rest."

"Oh Barney," Rob says softly, and next thing he knows, Barney's being pulled into a hug, rocked gently. "It's okay," Rob tells him, and Barney's more than a little confused when Rob strokes his hair, kisses the top of his head.

"Have you considered giving therapy a try?" Rob asks him when he lets Barney sink back into the couch. Barney lets out a hollow laugh as the dog crawls into his lap, making him grunt under Doug's weight.

"Hell no."

"Doug, get down," Rob sighs, as Doug instead settles in atop Barney, a mound of black fur. The room is silent for a long moment, and then Barney clears his throat again, speaks up.

"I'm sorry."

"You don't have anything to apologize for, Barney."

"I almost got your son murdered in Texas. And I... I misjudged you," Barney admits. "Thought you were gonna be just like him. I guess in some way it woulda been easier for me to accept how fucked up things are with my dad if you'd been the same way with me."

"You didn't deserve to be abused, Barney," Rob says. "You don't."

"It wasn't abuse..."

"Honey," Rob says, taking his first resting on the arm of the couch and stroking his thumb over it. "Gordon's told me enough, and you just confirmed it all and then some. You have an abusive family."

"No, but--"

"If I beat the fuck out of Gordon for being who he is, loving who he loves, wouldn't you think that was abuse?" Barney shuts his mouth, looks away, nods. He hasn't heard Rob swear before, and it's a little funny, a little nerve wracking; he feels ready to bolt just at the slight change in Rob's tone.

"You deserve to be treated better, Barney. You deserve to be loved for you," Rob says. Barney bites his lip, nodding slowly. He still feels awful, but the word vomit seems to have helped a bit. They sit in silence for a bit, until Rob gets up to fetch Barney some more water.

"Gordon said your sister was nice," Rob says, setting down the refilled water and a beer for Barney. He settles into the armchair with a beer for himself. Barney smiles kind of faintly, picking up the beer to take a sip.

"Yeah. Lindsey was the one getting married... She's a good kid. Supportive. And Lauren's..." He pauses, teeters his hand. "She's not bad, most times." A bit of a lie, Lauren's not good most times, but he knows she doesn't usually mean any harm.

They end up chatting for a while after that, drinking their beers and watching X-files. They finish off the episode before Gordon and Diane get back with pizzas from some local place. Rob hops up to go assist with the pies as Gordon makes a beeline for his boyfriend, shooing Doug off and then throwing his arms around his shoulders.

"Hey, darlin," Barney greets him, as Gordon settles right in on his lap.

<Are you okay?> Gordon signs, petting his hair. Barney nods and rests his hands loosely on Gordon's hips. <I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have left you here alone while you were upset...>

"S'okay baby, I was just talkin to your dad," Barney says, and kisses his neck.

Gordon looks even more concerned, somehow. <I should have stayed with you.>

"I'm glad I got to talk to him," Barney says, pulling Gordon closer to kiss him. Gordon melts into him, sliding his hands over Barney's chest.

<Birthday cum,> he signs, as Diane enters the living room with a plate of pizza.

"You boys gonna get served up?" she asks, as Gordon signs <Birthday blowjob.>

"I could eat," Barney says, and Gordon sighs, climbing off of him. Barney chuckles, heading to the kitchen to grab himself a plate. They sit around the living room for dinner, watching tv--the kind of thing that would never fly at Barney's folks' place, but which is apparently okay here.

---

Barney gets another beer in him and three slices of pizza. He barely realizes that Gordon's watching him, having scarfed down his food in minutes, until his boyfriend slides a hand up his thigh, brushing dangerously close to his dick--and then there's no more "dangerously close," he's just rubbing Barney through his pants with his pinkie finger. Barney flushes, but Diane and Rob are deep in conversation and don't notice a thing as Gordon jerks his head towards the stairs.

Gordon doesn't even get to the bedroom before he slips his hand into Barney's pants, squeezing the bulge in his briefs as Barney hurries him in to shut the door softly. Gordon kicks his pants and boxers off, laying on the edge of the bed.

<Suck me.> It's not a request or a plea or anything, Gordon's serious, legs spread and cock ready. Barney licks his lips, coming to kneel in front of him on the floor at the end of the bed. He presses a kiss to Gordon's hip, then his stomach just below his belly button, as Gordon juts his hips forward.

Message received, the birthday boy is impatient. Barney licks him, then takes him into his mouth, sucking slowly. Gordon gasps, thrusting his hips forward and pressing a hand to the back of Barney's head. The room is silent, other than the wet noises as Barney licks and sucks his tdick lovingly. Gordon writhes on the bed, fingers curling above him in the sheets, hips rocketing up. He's so fucking hot, Barney thinks, letting Gordon fuck his mouth and slur out his name and squeeze his hairy thighs around Barney's face as he comes, gasping and groaning.

Barney doesn't stop licking him, just moves to slide his tongue into him and eat him out. Gordon groans, pushing at Barney's hand, overstimulated by the mouth on his pussy and the hand rubbing at his tdick. He cries out when he comes a second time, wetness hitting Barney's tongue and his chin.

"You like that baby?" Barney asks. Gordon's still rocking his hips up to nothing, which he takes as a yes, and starts unbuttoning his jeans. He pulls Gordon closer by his thighs, gives himself a couple of slow pumps, and then slides right into his wetness.

Barney has to stop himself for a moment when he's balls deep to look down at his lover and breathe. "You feel so good, darlin," he slurs, hips bucking despite himself. Gordon wraps his legs around him and digs his heels in, trying to grind onto him. Barney makes eye contact and holds it as he grasps Gordon's tdick between them, jerking him off as he fucks him.

Gordon bites his lip, spasming again. "Fuuuuck," Barney groans, low and guttural. "God, baby, you're too good."

<I love you,> Gordon signs, and Barney grabs his hand and kisses it.

He comes inside a few minutes later, moaning and grinding deep into Gordon. He barely pulls out before falling over onto the bed, dazed and breathing hard. Gordon reaches for him, seeking out his hand to hold and kiss it.

"I'm tired, baby," Barney says, when Gordon starts to guide his hand down to his crotch. Gordon nods, kissing his cheek. They lay side by side at the end of the bed for a while, until Barney's starting to get cold just laying there, half naked and covered in sweat.

He drags himself up to go brush his teeth and piss at least, then staggers back to the bed to get under the covers. Gordon kisses him and goes to do the same, returning as Barney's starting to fall asleep.

He is asleep when Gordon slips into bed. He blinks his eyes open as the rotor turns on with a hum. He can't help but grin, and scoots forward so that his hips press into Gordon's backside.

"You packed a toy?" he chuckles, exhausted, reaching around to give Gordon a hand. Gordon murmurs quietly as Barney kisses his shoulder and presses the vibrator to his tdick, rubbing it against him. Barney watches him sleepily in the darkness of the room as Gordon squirms onto his back, spreading his legs again. It's the suction toy, Barney realizes, turning up the intensity and pushing it right up onto him, pulling it away gently. Gordon gasps and groans and calls out his name once, then yells wordlessly over and over in the quiet darkness of his bedroom.

---

He's not sure when they actually got to sleep. Gordon was insatiable, even when his body was too spent and overstimulated to stand being touched anymore. Barney could vaguely remember Gordon blowing him, then laying atop him and rutting desperately, gasping and kissing his face.

Barney would be surprised, but Gordon's always horny, especially after a t shot. He's just a little extra horny this go around. The mood at breakfast is awkward, though Gordon doesn't seem to notice as he chugs orange juice.

It's snowing, Barney discovers when he's helping carry dishes to the kitchen. He approaches the window, watching fat white flakes drop from the sky and dust the ground.

<We should go to the Seattle Underground,> Gordon says, when he gets Barney's attention again.

"The what?"

Gordon explains that it's a network of tunnels and passageways and creepy, derelict basements under the city, which makes Barney wrinkle his nose.

"Baby, you spend every day in derelict underground passageways," he points out. Gordon purses his lips. "Don't you miss the--the fresh air?"

<What do you want to do, then?> Gordon asks, and snickers when Barney can't think of anything. <Well?>

So they tour the Seattle Underground, which is creepy and weird and kind of scary but also really goddamn cool. They spend the early afternoon there, signing excitedly to each other, then wander Pioneer Square, where Gordon coerces him into trying sushi--

Which isn't bad, actually, although Barney's still not sure how it can be safe to eat raw fish. Won't you get salmonella and die? Shit, he's not a scientist, but isn't that just common sense?

"Do I have somethin on my face?" he asks, catching Gordon gazing fondly at him as they eat.

<I want to take you out tonight,> Gordon signs.

"Isn't this already "out"? Does it get more out than this?" Barney asks, and Gordon laughs.

<I want to show you off. At a club.>

Oh, uh. Well that'd be a first. Barney can't say that he's ever been to a club before. He flushes, nodding as he swallows.

"Yeah, uh. Alright. I'm game."

Gordon drives them back to his parents' house in the borrowed car, where he changes clothes and Barney follows suit. He's not sure what people wear to clubs, just pulls on his light-wash jeans and a dark Western shirt and slips his nice boots on.

Gordon comes into the bathroom as Barney's brushing his teeth, dressed in all black--jeans that fit right up against his legs, hip to ankle, and a belt, tank top, and boots.

<You look great,> Gordon assures him when Barney questions it. He brushes his teeth as well, while Barney debates going off to change into something else.

The sun has already set by the time they head downstairs. Diane and Rob call to them from the living room, "Have fun, be safe!" "Call us if you need help getting home, alright?"

Gordon drives again, down streets dusted with snow. They're off the highway quickly enough, then drive through a busy, brightly lit up part of town. Gordon parks when he finds a spot and leads Barney around to get in line for a place called Wild Ride. The wait is only about ten minutes, but it's just enough time for Barney to start getting nervous. Also, it's kind of chilly. He's worried about Gordon, standing out there with no sleeves on his damn arms--but they're soon at the door, presenting their IDs.

The bouncer at the door kind of glances, bored, at both their licenses. "Have fun boys," he says, handing them back, and Gordon leads Barney inside, into a wide, flashy place. The dance floor is massive, the bar is packed, and the colorful lights make it hard to tell what the real colors in the place are.

Gordon glances around, then signs to Barney. <I need to pee. Order me a drink?> Barney nods, and then Gordon's gone, heading for the bathrooms. The music thrums around him, beating up through the soles of his boots as Barney approaches the bar to ask for two beers.

"Both of those for you, cowboy?" a voice asks, raised over the music, close to his ear. Barney turns, finding two tall, slim men taking him in. One has spiked black hair and a piercing in his eyebrow--and his tongue, Barney discovers, when he licks his lips. The other is blond, with fluffy hair that frames his face.

"No, uh, one is for my boyfriend," Barney says, and the blond leans in, gestures for him to say again. "For my boyfriend!" he says loudly, to be heard over the music.

"Well where is he sweetie?" the ebony haired man asks, as the blond trails his fingertips up Barney's sleeve to his shoulder.

"You should come dance with us," he says. Barney swallows. Is this some kind of hazing? Is he about to get his ass jumped in Seattle? He glances towards the bathrooms, catching no sight of Gordon. "C'mon. One dance, while you wait."

Barney allows himself to be led away, into the moving crowd. All around him are... people. Men, actually, now that he thinks about it. It takes him a long moment to realize that Gordon's brought him to an actual, real life gay club, and another minute to come to terms with the fact that gay clubs don't just exist to be mentioned in after school specials and heated whispers, warnings about sin and temptation. And a few seconds later, he's coming to terms with the blond man pulling him close, dancing against him, guiding Barney's hands.

Oh, fuck. This isn't a hazing. He isn't being targeted for being gay, he's being targeted for... well, he's not sure he gets it, actually, what the twinks dancing against him get out of it.

"You're so cute," the blond man tells him over the music.

"You wanna take us for a ride, cowboy?" the other asks, grinding against his backside. "You wanna go bareback, or are you gonna be our horsey?"

"Shut up," the blond laughs at him. Barney flushes, ducking his head. He's gotta get back to the bar. Gordon's probably looking for him by now. But the blond puts a hand under his chin, saying something just under the pounding music-- don't be shy, just focus on me.

It's a little disorienting.

It's more disorienting when Gordon grabs onto the blond's arm and pulls him away from Barney, eyes deadly. Barney's only seen that murderous expression on Gordon one other time, and that was in Texas.

Oh, fuck, he thinks, as the other man steps back from him, crossing his arms.

"Who's this, cowboy?" the blond asks, and Gordon's eyes narrow a tiny bit. The music is building up to something, the bass is about to drop.

"He's my cowboy," Gordon spits, grabbing onto Barney with an arm around his waist. The black haired man eyes him up and down, unimpressed.

"Okay," the blond says, stepping down. Barney gulps. He nearly caused some kind of goddamn twink turf war, just by being left alone for five minutes. Gordon turns to him and signs, when the other two have disappeared back into the crowd.

<You're my boyfriend.>

<I know.>

Something flashes in Gordon's eyes that he hasn't seen before--jealousy, Barney realizes. Gordon's jealous that those men were touching him, grinding on him--and he's a bit giddy from the realization. Not that he's happy to have upset him, but it's flattering as hell. Gordon grabs his hand and hauls him across the dancefloor, not to the bar but to a seating area at the opposite edge of the floor. This side of the room is dark and sparsely populated, just a couple of men making out at one end of the couches.

Gordon sits at the opposite end, spreads his legs, and pulls Barney down into his lap, back to his chest. "Darlin?" Barney asks, as Gordon kisses his neck, sucking a hickey into his skin. "Shit, Gordon..."

Gordon's hand finds the waist to his jeans, and Barney thinks there's no way this is happening as his hands slips below the waistband, rubbing Barney through his underwear. He closes his eyes for a moment, groaning deep in his throat--but when he looks again, they're still in the club, just a couple feet from the edge of the dancefloor, and Gordon's jacking him off in his briefs.

Jesus fucking Christ, if they get put on some kind of--pervert list because of this, he's gonna have words--but right now he has none, just throaty moans and Gordon's name on his lips as he leans back into his boyfriend and thrusts his hips forward.

He comes into Gordon's hand, teeth grit as Gordon squeezes him. Barney turns his head, flushed and panting while his boyfriend milks him for all he's worth, still rubbing at the head of his dick as he tosses his head back onto Gordon's shoulder.

"Mine," Gordon says into his ear, kissing his cheek. He slips his hand out of Barney's pants, sticky with cum, and sucks it off his fingers. He's got his eyes on someone in the crowd, and Barney lifts his head, looks to see the blond give them a little nod before turning away again.

"What was that," Barney croaks, after Gordon's given him a few minutes to breathe. Gordon half-shrugs. "No, you--you gotta tell me what that was about, Gordo, cause that was--I don't know what that was."

Gordon's nostrils flare, irritated. "Are you mad at me?" Barney asks, and Gordon shakes his head, kisses him again.

"Then what was that?" Barney asks, breaking the kiss. He can feel himself getting anxious. Gordon huffs, looking away from him, and his hands move from Barney's hips to fumble and sign in front of him.

<I didn't want them to take you from me.>

"Baby, why would that happen," Barney groans. "No, you--lemme up." Gordon moves his hands so Barney can stand and turn to face him. Barney kneels in front of him, eyes on Gordon's face. "Listen, you," he says, and Gordon's nostrils flare again, with amusement. "Just cause those two guys were draggin me around--it doesn't mean anything."

<They were flirting with you,> Gordon signs, and then huffs when Barney shakes his head. <Barney, they wanted to fuck you.>

"Well--I--I don't think so," Barney stammers, flushing a bright red. "And I didn't wanna fuck them, so--"

<You have better options than me,> Gordon signs, and then appears to immediately regret voicing it he waves his hands as if to clear the remnants of what he'd said.

"You're the only one for me," Barney croaks, and rests his forehead on Gordon's knee. "Can we--can we get out of here? I just want a beer."

Gordon's gaze softens and he nods, stroking Barney's hair for a moment. They stand, and Gordon threads their hands together again, leading Barney back out onto the sidewalk outside.

They head back to the car, which looks like it's had a bag of flour dumped on it. Gordon turns on the heater as they climb in, rubbing his bare arms. Neither of them says anything for a while Gordon's focused on driving--taking them home, Barney realizes, feeling a pang of guilt. He stares out the window at the falling snow as they speed along the highway.

"I'm sorry baby," Barney says, reaching towards Gordon. Gordon shakes his head, eyes on the exit, signs <it's fine.>

"You wanted to go out, though," Barney protests, aware that his voice has a hint of a whine to it. Gordon's mouth twitches into a smile and he reaches over to take Barney's hand for a moment and squeeze.

Gordon has taken a different exit, Barney realizes after a few minutes. All he signs when Barney looks over at him is <hungry,> and then he's pulling into the Taco Bell parking lot. Barney snorts, hiding a smile.

<I'm hungry,> Gordon protests, climbing out of the car. Barney hops out and follows him inside.

"Alright, baby, what do you want," he asks, as they approach the counter.

<Three tacos... Baja Blast. Burrito...> Gordon squints at the menu, signing as Barney translates for him.

"An' I'll have a chalupa," Barney finishes, as the bemused cashier finishes tapping in their order. She hands them a drink cup and Gordon waves Barney off, pulling out his wallet to pay. Barney doesn't argue until they're sitting down, waiting for their food.

"I coulda paid for ya, darlin," he protests, as Gordon sips at his soda.

<You're fine, I'm the one that ordered so much.>

"Yeah, but I'm the one that's messing things up tonight..." Barney sighs. Gordon raises an eyebrow and taps his boot against Barney's ankle, slides it up and down his pant leg.

<You haven't messed anything up.>

"The club--"

<I wanted to show you off.> Gordon shrugs. <And I did. I'm not upset.>

Barney looks away as one of the employees brings over a tray of food for them, setting it between them. He waits until they're alone again to speak up once more.

"Just seemed like... you were so excited to go clubbing again, and I ruined it."

<Again? I'd never been before.> Gordon stops playing footsies with him for a moment, reaches for a paper-wrapped taco. <I just thought it might be fun>

Barney stares at Gordon as he tears into his food. After a minute, Gordon sets down his taco to sign to him. <I had fun going out with you. I love you, Barney.> He reaches across the table and Barney takes his hand, nodding.

They eat--or, Gordon eats, and Barney picks at his food for a while, stealing sips of Baja Blast. They end up back on the road after a short stop to buy beer, and then Gordon's taking them home, back to his parents' place.

The more Barney sits on it, what happened at the club, the more he's flattered. Not because he was flirted with, but because of how Gordon had reacted.

He's my cowboy.

You're my boyfriend. Mine.

I didn't want them to take you from me.

He knows Gordon loves him, he knows Gordon's attracted to him, and he knows they're both in it for the long haul, but the more he thinks about it, the hotter he feels. Somethin about being yanked around, bossed around by Gordon, jealous Gordon...

Well, he'll have to unpack that some other time.

---

Gordon's snoring when Barney wakes up the next morning. He watches him for a bit, tired and comfy, until the pressure in his bladder becomes too much to ignore. Barney gets up and heads to the bathroom, then downstairs, where he discovers it's snowed all night.

Diane is on the couch, watching the weather report with a cup of coffee. She looks up when Barney shuffles the living room.

"You want some coffee?"

Barney nods, then yawns as Diane hops up to go get him a cup. "Snowed a lot," he observes, making small talk.

Diane responds as she heads into the kitchen, "You two should come back up here for the holidays. It's gorgeous in December."

Barney settles on the couch, but the shiver and stab of a hook in his heart is already yanking him far, far away, to Christmas morning at his parents' house.

Diane holds a coffee cup out to him and Barney takes it, barely feeling the heat against his hands. She's asking him something, and Barney stares at her for a long moment, trying to parse it past the fog in his brain.

"If you can get the time off, of course," Diane adds, and Barney finally picks up the question--would you like to come stay with us over the holidays?

"Oh, uh... yeah, course..."

They sit for a while, just watching the news. Barney sips his coffee, mind wandering. Ed had almost killed him back then, and it was neither the first nor the last time. But it had been nothing compared to the wrath of Lauren, who... didn't speak to him again for over a year, after that.

"You seem tired," Diane says, and Barney nods, letting her take the coffee cup from him. "Why don't you go back to bed for a bit?"

Barney sighs, nods again, and heads upstairs to crawl into Gordon's bed again, holding him from behind. Gordon stirs almost immediately, shuffling away and rolling over to pull him close, breathing in the smell of him.

He allows Gordon to guide his hand to his tdick right away, strokes and rubs and fingers him to completion, but he gives pause when Gordon tries to reciprocate.

<What's wrong?>

"Can you, ah... maybe not." Gordon tilts his head, and Barney looks away, already flushed at just the thought of it. He licks his lips and tries again. "Maybe, uh, you could... be a little rough. A lil mean."

Gordon blinks, then nods, pushing back the covers and climbing off the bed. Barney watches him, half nervous, half excited, as Gordon comes around to his side of the bed, sits down, and signs to him.

<Come here. Now.>

Barney crawls closer, hiding an amused grin, and kneels beside him. He's just sitting there--what's he about to do, lecture him?

Gordon pulls Barney down into his lap, yanking his pajama pants down and--oh, he gets it. Uh. Well.

He can't help the little jolt of excitement and anticipation that runs through him when Gordon rubs a hand over his ass.

For a long minute, Gordon doesn't do anything, just strokes his ass, like he's deciding where to strike first. And then finally, he pulls his hand back, and Barney wiggles his hips nervously, waiting for Gordon to tap him or something.

The slap that hits him jolts him out of Gordon's bedroom and a thousand miles away, for just a moment. Then he's back, dumbstruck and gasping as Gordon speaks up.

"C-count. Out... out loud." Oh fuck. Barney chokes, barely garbling out a yessir before Gordon strikes him again.

"Barney," Gordon says, and his voice is just stern enough, just warning enough--

"T-two."

"Mm-mm."

"One," Barney corrects himself, breathing hard. Gordon strikes him again. He's never known Gordon's hands to hurt, and it's kind of thrilling, very scary, very--"Two," he chokes again, and Gordon rubs his ass, already sore.

"Three," he yelps, and for a second he's glaring up at Ed, belt in his hand, blocking out the sun with the sheer broadness of his shoulders. His eyes narrow down at Barney with hatred.

"Barney?" Gordon calls, softly, and Barney shakes his head, crying.

"D-don't stop, four." He thinks it was four. He can't be sure.

"Five." His hips thrust forward of their own accord when Gordon hits him again, and he can feel heat rising through him. How long is this going to go on for? He's terrified that Gordon's going to stop too soon, but also scared he's about to lose himself.

"Seven," he sobs, hanging his head, and he feels Gordon rub his ass again, hears that disapproving "mm-mm." "S-six," he corrects himself, just as Gordon spanks him again.

"One," Gordon says forcefully.

"Oh god, baby, y-you can't change how counting works--"

"One," Gordon says again, and Barney groans, cock hard and dripping, untouched.

"One," he agrees meekly. "Two," when the next strike comes. "Th-ah--three..." He reaches a hand back to try to relieve some of the pressure, to get himself off, and Gordon grabs his wrist, pins it behind his back.

"You're being p-puh--unished," he says. "Bad... b-boys don't get to touch themselves."

Barney almost comes right then and there, and then again, almost, when Gordon hits him.

"Fffffour," he manages, gasping for breath as Gordon rubs his ass again.

"You juh-ust have to get to ten, Barney," Gordon tells him, voice soft, more soothing than any balm. Barney sobs, nodding.

"F-five." Halfway there. He's halfway, "six," he croaks, over halfway, and then Gordon's going to let him touch himself, or else he might die. "Seven."

"You're d-doing good," Gordon informs him, and Barney nods, drooling through grit teeth. "Do... you w-want mmm-me to stop?"

"N-nnnooo," Barney groans, and Gordon slaps him again. "Ei....eight..."

"Two more," Gordon says, and spanks him.

"Nine," Barney whimpers, rocking his hips against nothing. He wants to come so bad it seems like it would just erase all his worries, his pain, like--

The last blow is so sharp, so pleasantly painful, he comes untouched, crying out Gordon's name, sobbing openly. Gordon pulls him back onto the bed before he's even finished, and boy, he thinks, am I in for it now--as Gordon shoves him onto his back and strokes him, pumps him through his orgasm and then some, and Barney whines, vision going splotchy and white and dark--he vaguely hears himself slurring something through it, and Gordon answers him readily.

"Yes, you're a good boy, Barney."

He groans as Gordon lets up, lets his hand slow and then still to allow Barney to catch his breath. Gordon lays down beside him, pulling him close as Barney comes back to the world.

<You're a good boy,> he repeats, and Barney nods, too dumb from coming so hard to do much else. Gordon cups his cheek, turns his head so that he can kiss him, and then climbs off his bed, fetching some lotion out of his suitcase. <Roll over,> he signs, coming back, and Barney doesn't have hardly any energy left in him just rolls onto his stomach and turns his head, looking sleepily back at Gordon as he rubs lotion on his reddened ass.

---

In some way that nothing else could, being paddled over Gordon's knee has relaxed Barney immeasurably. He wakes in the early afternoon and climbs out of Gordon's bed to go shower.

Gordon seems calmer too, once he's awake, no longer fueled by lust, like he's finally tuckered himself out. He's getting dressed when Barney slips back into the room to do the same.

He's pulling his shirt on when Gordon throws open the curtains to the backyard. It's blanketed in white, with more flakes drifting down from the grey sky. Barney steps up to the window, staring out at it. He's never really seen snow, and never so much of it, and he's awestruck.

<What do you want to do today?>Gordon signs, and Barney has to tear his eyes away from the window to see what he's saying.

"Uh... I don't know, darlin--"

<Do you want to go outside?> He looks amused as he signs it.

"I mean... if you don't mind, yeah..."

They head downstairs, and Gordon leads him to a closet in the hall, next to the door to the garage. Barney stands back as he hauls out a couple of winter coats, hats, gloves, and two scarves.

"What are you two up to?" Rob asks, passing through the kitchen.

"We're going outside," Barney tells him, as Gordon tugs a hat down over his ears. He can't keep the grin off his face, even as Gordon slings a scarf around his neck and hands him a coat.

<He's never seen snow,> Gordon signs to his dad, and Barney's grin widens.

"I mean, I've seen a little bit... never like this, though."

"I'll join you, " Rob says, moving past Gordon to grab his own coat. Gordon nods, turning to zip up Barney's coat for him.

The three of them step out onto the back deck, and Barney makes a beeline for the snow. Doug comes bounding out after him, barking and diving into snowdrifts, as Rob and Gordon stand back, watching.

"Gordo!" Barney calls, pelting him with a little snowball when he turns to look. He laughs as Gordon dusts snow off his coat.

<Hey.> He ducks down, balling up some powder between his gloved hands, and signs again, one handed. <You asked for it.>

Barney barely has time to turn tail and run before Gordon chucks it at the back of his head. He curses, brushing snow off the back of his hat and down his neck with a gloved hand as Gordon chases him into the yard. Doug races alongside the two of them, and Rob watches, smiling.

"Alright, alright, uncle!" Barney calls, as Gordon holds onto the back of his coat, shoveling handfuls of snow into the back of his shirt. "Jeez, Gordon!" But he's grinning, and so is Gordon, who laughs breathily at his squirming. Doug jumps up and woofs at them both as Diane steps out on the back porch.

"What are they doing," she laughs, as Gordon packs another snowball between his hands and chucks it at Rob. Doug goes chasing after it, barking all the way. The snowball bursts against Rob's chest, and he raises an eyebrow.

"Gordon," Rob says coolly. Gordon nods to him, equally as composed. "You understand what this means."

Gordon nods again. Barney looks between them, grinning nervously. Rob bends over, scooping up a handful of snow, and straightens to pack his snowball. "You'd better get moving then," he warns, drawing his arm back to throw it, just as Diane stuffs his hood full of snow and tips it over onto his head. He yelps.

"Run, Gordon!" Diane calls, and he bolts, grabbing onto Barney's hand to drag him along. Doug howls, chasing after them, all the way to the oak tree. Gordon pulls his boyfriend behind it, crouching in the snow to start packing and piling up snowballs. Doug rolls around in the snow.

Diane and Rob have teamed up by the time they reach the tree, and the four of them fling snowballs back and forth until they're laughing and gasping for breath. Doug lays in the snow, watching and chewing on an old dug-up tennis ball he'd found, as Rob surrenders to the younger men.

They head back inside after a while, shaking snow off their coats, stomping it off their shoes and boots. Gordon and Diane stop off in the kitchen to make a batch of hot cocoa, and Barney follows Rob into the living room, where he turns on the electric fireplace. Doug stretches out in front of it with a noisy groan, and Rob throws an old blanket over him.

He feels better, Barney decides. Considering how low his expectations had been while flying out here, he feels... pretty damn great.

He still has Gordon's present, his real present in his pocket, solid against his thigh. He'd meant to give it to him on the day, but the timing just hadn't felt right, and...

Well, the timing's still not right. It's not the time to propose, Barney knows that, but he'll be carrying the ring every day until he's ready.

Rob turns on the TV and puts on the X-files, and Diane and Gordon join them shortly. Barney takes the mug of cocoa he's offered and sips at it, wrapping an arm around Gordon to hold him close.

He thinks this must be what it's like to have a family. To be warm, and close, and laughing together in front of the fire to be hugged tight and loved unconditionally, to feel Gordon snuggle up against him and murmur into his neck, to watch Diane and Rob take each other's hands across the gap between couch and armchair.

It feels nice.