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Perhaps it’s a credit to how deeply he sleeps in Naomi’s arms, that Barney only wakes up when the bed snaps fully in half.
It’s a long rush of seconds before he can even begin to parse what’s happening, the stomach-dropping feeling of falling an unfortunate thing that sticks around though his body has less to fear from it. He’s not proud to admit the shriek that comes out of him as he realizes he’s near to on the floor with how the bed has part in two, like someone took a hammer to it.
Of course, being that he just woke up, Barney can barely move to do anything about it. His arm shudders up to reach towards his chest, to bring enough life back into him that he can at least begin to understand what’s happened here. But before that— the strike of fear that hits him is more than any shock he could give himself. Where… where is his wife?
That cold thought is hotly interrupted by a blast of steam, like stepping into a sauna. Barney blinks up above him to its source to find something red as spilled blood.
Two gigantic nostrils huff another steamy breath directly onto him, and it’s only there, staring down its nose, that Barney’s rudely awoken mind realizes their bed has broken under the weight of a large red dragon.
A dragon with deep brown eyes, that breathes heavier as it looks into his. Huffs of breath, of excitement that seem almost like—
“…my love?” Barney whispers, voice hesitant. “Is that you?”
If it isn’t, this would be a very embarrassing situation. Luckily, the dragon's eyes close in a manner Barney’s seen so many times he's remembered the movement in his dreams, and a deeply pleased rumble erupts from her mouth.
With it, so does a long and flexible tongue. A very warm one, that presses to his body with the lack of subtlety he adores in Naomi.
He’s supposed to protest: should against all better judgment as an ebony claw comes up towards where his heart lies. Yet he can only huff his own breath of heated interest as Naomi’s claw finds its way under his collar and neatly tears his shirt wide open.
Well— not quite neatly. The cut is quite messy, actually, but it’s difficult to think about such things when Naomi takes the opening to lave her tongue over his now-bare chest. It traces over his scar, interested as always, starts pushing down towards his lower half. Barney gasps a laugh, just as embarrassed as amused by her directness. "That really is you, isn't it, darling? Unless I'm to be eaten, and you simply prefer your food without clothing in the way..."
Naomi rumbles above him, the sound resonating through his bones in a way not altogether unpleasant. It's a noise easily interpreted as amused, and Barney is reminded that Naomi threatens to eat him nearly as often as she does to fuck him.
Somehow this seals the deal more than anything, and he can only lie back as she rips the rest of his outfit away, feeling strangely flattered by the action. Never would he have imagined anyone to be so desperate to get to his body as to tear clothing out of the way: yet it’s simple to accept as just another new feeling Naomi has brought to his life.
Seemingly delighted by her new abilities, Naomi's tongue explores up and down his body, claws embedded in the remnants of the bedframe above him and causing the wood to creak from their pressure. Barney's still stiff from his sleep, body nearly immobile, but he can at least shudder in response, and despite everything his voice works enough to vocalize for her efforts.
When she reaches down between his legs, Naomi looks directly up into Barney's eyes, and pauses only a moment before her mouth hinges open wide. Teeth close in on either side of his abdomen as she envelops him, just close enough to touch but not to pierce. She could bite him in half if she so chose. Barney can only feel comforted for it.
Though a stream of drool creeps down from her lower jaw, Naomi doesn’t bite down. Instead she positions herself so that the soft shape of his cock can drag against the back of her tongue, a warm and all-encompassing pressure. It would be near unbearably hot for a normal man: Barney only continues to twitch in her mouth, moan as the warmth spreads through his cold core.
By the time a great shock goes through him, he's as warmed through as if he were sitting in a sauna. It's the type of heat that would signal fever in someone alive. Barney accepts it as a blessing for a dead man.
He’ll need a proper shock eventually, to be able to sit upright and kiss her snout as he desires. But Barney doesn’t mind waiting in her warmth a bit longer.