The way it comes out of Barney’s mouth, you’d think he’d solved global warming. He even stands up on his side of the booth, spreads his arms, and generally looks amazingly smug in that impeccable Versace suit.
But Ted isn’t impressed. “What,” he says.
“We should have sex!” Barney exclaims again, and Ted wishes he would sit down.
“Ted,” Barney explains earnestly, “don’t you get it?” To Ted’s relief, he sits back down. “This is the only way to make things right. You’re upset because I had sex with Robin. I get it; I messed up.”
Ted mutters something unsavory, glancing around MacClaren’s. Thankfully, their group’s antics are well known and after a moment, no one pays any more attention to them.
Barney goes on, “So, the only way for us—”
“—Us to make this right is to have more sex than Robin and I did. Like, way more. It makes everything even: you slept with Robin, I slept with Robin, and then we sleep together. Everything will be as it was.”
Ted gapes at him. “How.”
Barney quirks an eyebrow at him. “Well, however you want, bro. You know how it works, right? My personal favorite is The Rotating Combo. It’s a little complicated for a first-timer, though. First you need to bend—”
“No!” Ted snaps, waving his arms. “How can you even think having sex will fix our problem? What universe are you living in?”
Barney smiles at him. “A universe where bros can forgive other bros by having sex and never speaking of it again. I hope after we constantly bang for two days straight, we can agree to be friends again.”
Ted pulls at his hair. “What universe is this! No, no.” He slides out of the booth. “Barney, I can’t even begin to tell you what’s wrong with all this. Just … just leave me alone, okay?” He grabs his coat and turns to go.
He pretends not to notice the way Barney crumples behind him.