Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Henry perked up as he heard keys in the front door. He scrambled to hide his Switch under the couch, remembering to pause it before stashing it.

He heard the beep of the alarm, his Dad whistling as he reactivated it. It was typical Dad to be happy enough to whistle in the middle of the night, but the transfer window had also officially closed.

Which was why Henry had snuck out of bed to wait up. 

Dad and Trent had both warned him that Dad would be busy in December and January, but Henry hadn’t understood just how busy his Dad would actually be.

Richmond had played 8 matches in December, and 7 matches in January, his Dad practically living at Nelson Road.

The door to the living room opened, and Henry felt a swoop in his stomach as Dad stepped in.

“Henry?” Dad smiled, surprise in his eyes. He looked mildly confused, but happy, and Henry felt a wash of relief. 

Not that he thought that his Dad would be angry with him, he didn’t get angry, not like that, not at Henry, no, Dad did something way worse.

Henry had never kicked a puppy, and he never would, but he imagined it felt about as awful as it did to have his Dad be disappointed in him. 

It was Henry’s least favorite thing, and something he usually avoided at all cost.

“Aren’t you,” Ted shook his sleeve, getting to his watch so he could check the time, Henry well aware that it was past two in the morning, “supposed to be in bed?”

“I am,” Henry’s eyes actually burned, and he had been yawning constantly for the last hour, the Transfer window closing at midnight, however, he had been on a mission, “but I’m waiting for you.”

“Aha?” Dad grinned, “well would you look at me, lucky enough to have my very own welcome home committee,” Dad walked over to the couch, “you know, we popped a bottle of champagne at work-“

“Ha,” Henry chuckled, Trent predicting that they would be doing that when Sky Sports had announced that Richmond had managed to sign Robin Olsen from AS Roma to be their second goalkeeper, Trent immediately looking up his statistics.

Henry didn’t really understand why everything tended to happen on the final few days of the transfer window, when it lasted an entire month, but maybe, adults were silly too when it came to deadlines.

“And this is still way better, especially if there’s a hug included in the VIP pack-“

Dad didn’t get to finish his sentence, because Henry was already out of his seat, shooting towards him in bare feet and pajamas to throw his whole body into the hug.

Henry buried his face in his Dad’s chest, strong arms coming up to wrap around him and hold him tight. 

Dad smelled a bit like outside, since he always prefered to walk anywhere, even in the middle of the night, but the scent of cold air didn’t retract from the fact that his Dad gave the best hugs in the whole entire world.

They stood there for a long while, Henry’s arms wrapped around his Dad’s middle, Henry allowing himself to melt into the hug, to enjoy the fact that his Dad was back.

“Hey big guy?” Dad whispered, one of his hands coming up to cup Henry’s head, “I appreciate you waiting, but I got a feeling this ain’t exactly a sanctioned deviation from routine,” Dad stroked Henry’s hair with his thumb, his voice deep and rumbly, “so I gotta know if we’re telling Trent about this little party? Or not?” 

“Not.” Henry had promised Trent that he’d go straight to bed and that he wouldn’t be on his phone since he had been allowed to stay up late on a school night, and Henry had, technically, kept his promise.

He had gone straight to bed, and he hadn’t used his phone at all, but he had also snuck back out, so if it was an option, he’d love to not have to tell Trent that he had only stuck to the letter, and not the spirit of their deal.

“Figured,” Dad gave him a squeeze, clearly expecting the hug to be over, but Henry didn’t want to let go.

It was stupid to feel this clingy when they were on the same continent, when Henry knew that his Dad had tried to do his best, but January had sucked. 

Like, properly sucked.

December had been bad, but Henry had at least been off school, and allowed to come along to Nelson Road sometimes, the promise of Christmas enough to keep his spirit up.

In January, it felt like his Dad had barely been home at all. 

Sure they ate breakfast together, and Dad tried to be home for dinner, but they didn’t have the afternoons together, and in the evenings, Dad had work too.

Henry had had his Christmas presents, but he’d trade his drum set and his PS5 and his new bike and the lego sets if it meant his Dad hadn’t been so distracted. 

If they watched a movie, Dad had a scouting report in his hand, if they went for a walk, Dad would get a phone call, if Henry tried to show him something, Dad would get distracted. 

Every single weekend was taken up by matches and meetings, and while Henry still went to the locker room with Mom or with Trent, if Richmond played at home, Dad was busy doing press or talking to someone or making a good first impression or-

Henry knew that Trent had done what he could. 

He had helped Henry with his homework, had made sure that Henry’s gym clothes got washed and that he had his after school sandwich. He had done all of the chores around the house, had put matches and press conferences on whenever they aired.

Trent had taken them out on Sundays, and had even let Henry decide where they should go, but it wasn’t the same thing. 

Not when Dad wasn’t with them.

Before this month, Henry wasn’t even aware that one could get bored with takeout, but that was apparently possible, Henry discovering that Trent was a really terrible cook once you moved past things like pasta and pesto, and Henry had really started to resent pesto pasta.

“Hen?” Dad looked down at him, Henry almost giggling at the way it gave him a double chin, Henry able to look right up Dad’s nose, but then, he saw the worry in his Dad’s eyes. “Everything okay bud?”

“Yeah…” Henry nodded. “I just missed you a whole bunch” 

Which wasn’t a lie, but maybe, Henry hadn’t just missed his Dad a whole bunch. 

Maybe, he had missed him a stomach hurting real bad amount. 

It was just Henry’s luck that the transfer window closed on a Thursday, and that he’d be going to Mom’s tomorrow. 

Henry loved his Mom, and he missed her when he wasn’t with her, but he had missed his Dad all week, even though they had been in the same house.

Which was somehow way worse then the times where there had been an ocean between them, Dad at least only a phone call away back then.

“I missed you too.” Dad kissed his hair, and Henry was okay with it, even if it made him feel like a little kid.

“Hey,” Dad released him and crouched down, hands on Henry’s elbows, “how about you and I do something real naughty tomorrow?”

“Like what?” Henry felt excitement start to bubble in his belly, Dad’s eyes filled with mischief. 

“What you got going on first thing?”

“At school? Double science, why?”

“Cause you and I are playing hooky.” Dad smiled, “You in on that?”

“Yeah.” Henry grinned, nodding eagerly even though he knew that Mom and Trent would both disapprove, but he didn’t care.

Not a whole lot anyway.

“Good,” Dad released Henry’s elbow to spit into his palm before holding out a hand, Henry giggling before he did the same thing, the two of them shaking on it.

It was silly and perfect and just Dad, everything slotting back into place.

“Now listen,” Dad pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, Henry sure he was the only person in the whole entire world who still used one, “I needa do the closing shift, so you can either join me doing that, or you can pop on off to bed?”

Henry bit his lip, humming as he contemplated his choices, Dad wiping his hand for him. 

He liked doing the closing shift with his Dad, liked measuring out the coffee and making sure the house was nice and tidy, but he was also really, really, really tired.

“Bed.” Henry held out his arms, and Dad laughed.

“You want me to carry you?” Dad raised an eyebrow, standing back up, “You sure your old mans strong enough to-“

Henry jumped, and Dad caught him, a surprised grunt coming from him as Henry accidentally knocked the air out of him. 

Henry held on like a koala, arms around Dad’s neck, Henry clinging to him, but Dad could easily take the weight, Henry for once kind of grateful that he was a scrawny kid.

“Alright alright,” Dad hugged him tight, a hand under his butt hosting him up, “I get the message loud and clear. Well, the bedroom express is taking off, so you better hold on tight.”

Henry grinned, burrowing his face in Dad’s neck and closing his eyes as he got carried upstairs, a sense of peace washing over him, because Henry loved AFC Richmond, but he also loved his Dad a whole lot more. 

~~~

Trent arched his back, his forearms firmly planted on the kitchen counter, a manuscript in his hands.

He was waiting for the kettle to boil, a stack of unopened manila folders by his side.

Throughout December and January, Trent had been getting increasingly frustrated and pleading emails from his audiobook contact, Jeanette practically begging him to please accept work by the middle of January.

It had been immensely flattering, but also impossible to accommodate, especially in January.

Since the transfer window opened, Trent felt like he had barely seen Ted. It wasn’t usual for a manager to be this involved in the transfer market, for the gaffer to do dinners and meetings with agents and players, but AFC Richmond wasn’t just a Premier League football club that was currently a comfortable and confident 4th on the table.

They were also, and primarily, Ted Lasso, Ted a quintessential part of attracting and securing talent, his management style and philosophy the most appealing part of the Richmond package.

Especially since…

It wasn’t particularly nice to point it out, but it had been less than three years since Richmond spent a season in the Championship, and that mattered to players, relegation an ever present threat, especially to the players who were at the stages of their career where Richmond could afford them.

The kettle clicked, and Trent straightened up, though he was unwilling to let go of the manuscript he was currently holding, his brief skim already promising an intriguing read.

Apparently, Trent should have started categorically rejecting work sooner, because his refusal of the initial proposals had somehow doubled his salary on three of the titles.

It had turned out that he had somehow become popular and that he was now recognisable enough that authors have started asking for him directly.

Which was a nice little ego boost, especially when Trent still considered the audio work his side hustle.

He hadn’t written anything substantial in months, his Chelsea book laid to rest during December and January, but it itched at his skull, wiggled at the back of his brain, and Trent knew that he had to write it.

He just needed to figure out how. Richmond had played Chelsea in December, and Trent had swallowed his annoyance and pride and accepted a VIP ticket. 

It had taken an embarrassing amount of focus, but he had managed to hunt down Chelsea's director of communications and leave his card with him, Trent hoping that he’d be allowed access to the women’s team, or that he’d at least get the chance to officially interview them. 

Trent didn’t have to finish his book during the 25th anniversary of Chelsea's women's team, but there was something poetic about tying it all together with a neat little bow, and it wasn’t as if he had nothing at all.

A big chunk of the book was already written, but Trent hadn’t dared look at it, editing his own work while he was still in the process of writing an impossible task.

He needed to, wanted to talk to his editor, but he couldn’t bring something to Elijah’s desk that he wasn’t fully committed to. 

Trent rooted around for his teapot, the poor thing sent to the very back of the cupboard, since Trent hadn’t truly had the time to bury himself in work in forever.

Today, however, he had an entire Friday in front of him, both kids at school and then going home to their mothers afterwards.

Trent had no idea what he’d have for dinner, and he honestly didn’t care either. If Ted wanted something, he’d have to figure it out himself, Trent done making any sort of decision on anything food related for the foreseeable future.

He had completely forgotten just how brutal it was to be responsible for the ever present need of nutrients, this last week with the kids especially soul crushing.

Because they needed breakfast and lunch and dinner and snacks, but not only that, they also needed variety and vegetables and complex carbs and fruits and protein and fibers and a million other things.

Trent’s solution had been an unreasonable amount of takeaways. It had been killer on his bank account, but Trent had been the kind of stretched thin where it was a choice between ordering Thai, or risk yelling at his daughter if she refused whatever home cooked disaster Trent could produce under pressure.

So Thai it had been.

Trent was trying to decide between white tea or Earl Gray, when he heard the front door open and close, a pair of keys getting dropped in the bowl by the door.

Which was weird, because Trent wasn’t expecting anyone.

It had been obvious at breakfast that Henry had snuck out of bed, the poor boy practically falling asleep on top of his toast, but Trent hadn’t pointed it out. 

Mainly because Ted was clearly in on it, the two of them throwing so many conspiratorial glances at each other that Trent almost felt insulted that they thought it went unnoticed.

He had felt actually insulted when Henry had proclaimed that he’d take the bus to school, and that Ted would walk him to the bus stop on his way to work, the lie so blatantly obvious that Trent couldn’t help but question his boyfriends perception of his intelligence.

Henry had been giggling though, so Trent had let it slide, though Ted would absolutely be made to answer for his unimaginative and frankly, offensively bad, coverstory.

“Hello?” Trent called out, though he was fairly certain it was Ted. A part of him hoped that it was Beard, Trent impatiently waiting for the day that Beard finally broke it off with Jane for good, but the keys in the bowl were a give away. “Who’s there?”

“Hey handsome.” Ted appeared in the doorway, and Trent narrowed his eyes, Ted clearly up to something. “What you got cookin good lookin?”

“I thought you were corrupting your son today.”

Or that Ted would be at work, but it appeared that Beard or Travis were running training, tomorrow’s match against Leichester one they’d be playing at home. 

“Only a little,” Ted grinned, “so I figured I’d find some space on the calendar to corrupt you too, if you catch my drift.”

Ted wiggled his eyebrows, and Trent was reminded of how unfairly attractive he found Ted. It shouldn’t be possible, couldn’t be allowed to be this charming and hot while acting like a cartoon character, but Ted Lasso did have a gift.

“Aha?” Trent could give in, but it was so much more fun to feign ignorance, to have Ted work for it a little, “And when will this scheduled corruption take place?” Trent turned his back to Ted, returning to his kettle and pot, the white tea calling his name for now. “Because I was hoping to get some work done, and I’m not sure I’m in the mood for ice cream.”

He opened the tea box, wellaware he’d never get to drink it, but he still took his time, putting on a production.

“No ice cream? Really?” Trent could hear that Ted had come close, but he didn’t feel any arms sneak around him, Ted probably leaning against the kitchen island, “Well jokes on you anyway, cause Henry and I went to get pastries.”

“How wonderfully English of you.” Trent took the lid off of his teapot, popping the kettle off of its base. It was adorable to imagine Henry and Ted sneaking off to a cafe, Ted gone long enough that they would have had plenty of time to talk and chit and chatter, “There weren’t any doughnuts available?”

“Don’t tell me I’ve been paying so little attention to you lately, that you’d rather discuss baked goods than get it on good.”

Trent snorted, Ted finally getting him. He put the lid and kettle down, turning around to see that Ted was indeed leaning against the island, a gigantic grin on his face.  “That was terrible.”

“I’m corrupting you already sugar buns.” Ted practically beamed, and Trent had missed him so much. 

“Seems like I have no choice but to let the seduction begin.” Trent crooked a finger, “Come here.”

“Hold on, I thought I was the one seducing you.”

“Come.” Trent made sure to lay the command on thick, to leave no space for arguments, “Here.”

Ted did as he was told, responding instantly. It only took two steps for Ted to be standing in front of Trent,  their bodies pressed together, his cheeks flushed, his lips parted. 

Trent took Ted’s face in his hands, holding him before tilting his head slightly.

“Stay.”

Ted whimpered, and Trent smiled. He leaned forward, pressing a sweet and slow kiss to Ted’s lips, Ted standing perfectly still.

Trent pulled back, looking Ted in the eyes, his pupils already blown.

“Good boy.” 

Ted moaned, his knees buckling a little, Trent filled with smug satisfaction.

Ted was so pretty, so perfect, so sweet and tasty and completely his, and Trent couldn’t wait to devour him, work forgotten for now. 

~~~

Ted felt so utterly relaxed, that he was afraid he had somehow managed to melt, his entire body liquid and warm and beyond comfortable.

He had come home from his shenanigans with Henry, and had expected to put his back into seducing Trent, to really lay it on thick, to show his boyfriend how much he appreciated him, how much he had missed him, to spoil him and worship at the altar of Trent.

Instead, Ted had been devoured. 

Trent had taken him to bed and held him down, taking his sweet, torturous time, slowly and meticulously kissing what felt like every inch of Ted’s body.

Ted had been kissed behind his ears and on his eyelids, on his calves and on his ribs. He had even been kissed in his armpit, Ted sporting a perfect bite on his upper arm from when he had tried to twist away and insisted that he was dirty there, Trent biting him and telling him to shut up. 

They had been together a whole year, and yet, it still felt brand new to be so desired, to be so wanted, Trent treating him like he was hot and sexy with such utter conviction that Ted had no choice but to believe him.

Ted sighed happily, sinking even further into his relaxation. 

He was lying on top of Trent, their legs tangled together, a lazy hand slowly stroking up and down Ted’s back, fingers dragging across his skin.

The orgasms had been fantastic, Ted coming between Trent’s thighs, panting against his shoulder, moaning his pleasure, but this, sharing the afterglow, the cuddling and the touching, having all the time in the world?

That was the stuff that made life worth living, and Ted had missed it terribly.

Everyone had warned him that January would be busy, but Ted hadn’t been able to fathom exactly how busy busy was, until it had started to hit him, one thing after another coming at him in an endless parade of obligations, Ted constantly needed and never truly enough.

At times, he had been so tired he didn’t know what was up and what was down, everything melting together the way it had when Henry was a newborn.

He had missed the January transfer window his first season with Richmond, his second year, they had been relegated, and once they were back in the Premier League, all of their money had been spent on signing Zava, which meant that the transfer window had been more of a formality than a reality.

Ted had returned to Richmond in January last year, but he had apparently been spared the brunt of it, Rebecca shielding him since she was scared he’d run off again, that he’d leave her behind once more.

It had been necessary to return to Kansas, to attempt to fit into his old life so he knew with certainty that he could never go back, but he hated how many people he had hurt in the process, how damaging it had been to those around him that Ted had believed that he wasn’t important.  

Ted was torn from his contemplation, by the sound of Trent’s phone going off, his pants somewhere on the floor.

“Ted-“ Trent had stopped petting his back, but Ted just hummed and kissed whatever skin he could reach, Ted unwilling to move.

“Ted-“ Trent sighed, and while Ted couldn’t mistake the annoyance, he could hear the affection humming just underneath.

Ted had never truly doubted that he was lucky to have Trent, that he had scored big once he finally got his head out of his ass, but January had truly proven just how insanely blessed Ted was to be in big fat gay love with Trent Crimm.

There were several points during the month where Ted was convinced something was going to give, that this was the moment where he’d fail spectacularly, that right now would be the exact second he fucked it all up, but by some miracle, it had all worked out.

Mainly because said miracle was currently struggling to get Ted to move, a hand pushing at his shoulder, Ted making himself even heavier on purpose. 

Ted was sure he would have gone insane if Trent hadn’t been there, if he hadn’t had Trent’s steady hand and clever eyes, if he hadn’t been put on his knees when he needed to get out of his head and sent to bed when he reached his limit. 

Trent had made sure he had a suit ready for every dinner, had packed his suitcase for every away game and done all of the laundry. Trent had taken care of Henry, helped him with his homework and entertained him when Ted had to be else.

He had even managed to keep the house from turning into a complete disaster, Trent somehow finding the time to clean on top of everything else.

The only thing Trent hadn’t attempted to fix was Rebecca’s biscuits, but Ted had pre-made some extra batter and frozen it during their Christmas break. 

They weren’t as good, but Rebecca had appreciated the gesture anyway. 

“Ted-“ Trent sounded genuinely annoyed now, and Ted knew he couldn’t drag it out any longer.

“Fine,” Ted grunted and rolled off, already mourning the loss. 

Trent got off the bed, getting his phone before it stopped ringing, Ted admiring the view as Trent bent down, everything wet and messy between his thighs.

Ted grinned, pushing up on his elbows and reaching over to Trent’s side of the bed to open the bottom drawer of his nightstand.

“Keeley? Hello there love, what can I do for you?”

The bottom drawer was a deep one, Ted easily locating the box of tissues and the wet wipes that Trent kept hidden well out of sight during kiddo weeks.

However, there was something else in the drawer, Ted blaming the fact that he was extremely well shagged on the fact that he couldn’t help but sneak glances at Trent’s toy box.

It was square and beige, nearly taking up the entire drawer, a combination lock keeping it safe from any curious explorer.

Which unfortunately included Ted.

Ted knew he could just ask, that Trent would gladly show him, but it felt too… 

So he had only caught glimpses here and there, Trent once opening it in Ted’s presence to get an extra bottle of lube, Ted spotting what had to be a butt plug.

It couldn’t be a very big collection, but it was certainly a lot more than what he and Michelle had ever owned, the only thing in their bedside drawer one singular gag gift dildo that Michelle had been given at a bachelorette party. 

“Well that’s fortunate, and expected.” Trent had started walking in circles, Ted quickly closing the drawer, “I mean, the opposite would have been a lot more concerning, but why am I- Oh, he isn’t responding to your calls-“

Trent shot Ted a look, and Ted shrugged, his phone in his own pocket, though he had put it on do not disturb, the only calls that came through those on his emergency list, which did not include Keeley Jones work phone. 

Ted pulled out a few wet wipes, holding them out in an offer to Trent.

“Yes I’m currently looking at him,” Trent took the wipes and put a foot up on the bed, quickly cleaning himself off while listening to Keeley, Ted all warm and squirmy and embarrassed by it, Trent acting and sounding so casual.

“If you can talk to him?” Trent threw the tissues in the trash can, “about the many many press inquiries post transfers?” 

Trent pulled his phone from his ear, holding it out to Ted, but Ted quickly shook his head.

Maybe, Trent was a cool cat who had no issue talking to people without wearing a lick of clothes, but Ted had grown up a good little Catholic boy, and there were no way he’d ever be able to look Keeley in the eye again if he tried to hold a conversation with her while buck naked.

“Really?” Trent mouthed the word, clearly a bit surprised, but Ted shrugged, his cheeks flushed with the not so fun embarrassment. 

However, it disappeared immediately as Trent gave his forehead a quick kiss, a whispered sorry falling from his lips before he put the phone back to his ear.

“Ted isn’t available Miss Jones, but how about you give me an hour, and I’ll have him pressed, primed and ready to go? Right. Perfect, I’ll have him delivered to your office then.”

Chapter Text

“You’ve got that exactly right sir! We’re more excited to have him than T.rex on a trampoline! And as we all know, that’s pretty dang excited!”

Trent smiled to himself, Ted as always letting out a steady stream of nonsense, the poor reporter on the phone stammering as they tried to regain control of the conversation and get Ted back on track.

It had taken a bit of herding, but Trent had managed to get Ted freshened up and transported to KBPR within the promised hour, his boyfriend currently sitting at the conference table and blabbering to a speakerphone, one of Keeley’s newer hires in control of the tech bits.

Trent could have left, and maybe he should have left, but he loved it when Ted talked to reporters.

It was a little mean, but it was so entertaining to watch the uninitiated deal with Ted’s particular brand of weaponised silliness for the first time, handling him its own artform, getting a straight answer out of Ted what separated the great from the mediocre when it came to sports journalism.

“Trent!” Trent turned, a slight flush rising in his cheeks when he became aware that Keeley had caught him lingering in the doorway, the woman in question coming towards him with two cups of tea. “Come on, walk with me.”

Trent shot one last look in Ted’s direction, a tiny bit of anxiety gnawing at him, but Ted seemed to be totally relaxed and utterly comfortable, Trent unfortunately not catching the name of his… For a lack of a better word, handler.

He followed behind Keeley, the clank of her chunky heels against the floor, Trent continually in awe of how Keeley managed to keep her ankles intact, though her wedged shoes were very different from the Louboutins Lilian favored. 

Keeley let him into her office, holding the door open with her elbow until Trent had stepped inside.

“Here you go,” Keeley held out a cup of what smelled like peach tea, which somehow made so much sense. It was in a white cup that was so big it was practically a soup bowl, pink polka dots and a golden rim making it unmistakingly Keeley’s.

In fact, everything surrounding Keeley tended to be unmistakingly her.

Trent had figured his group chat with Rebecca and Keeley would fizzle out, that they’d grow bored of him, but they had gone to lunch here and there, Trent still a little unsure why someone as… Keeley, as Keeley would want to willingly spend time with him.

“Thank you so much for helping out, I knew I could count on you,” Keeley smiled, the door closing behind her, “I owe you, big time.”

“I’ve barely done anything.” Trent looked around Keeley’s office, her plush sofas so very tempting, but his attention got caught by the big whiteboard with her calendar on it, Trent tilting his head as he read, a question coming to mind.

“Are you taking Jamie to Fashion Week?”

“Oh yeah, he loves it.” Keeley grinned, “Lets me dress him up and parade him around, and it’s so hot to be the one who has the arm candy, instead of being the arm candy!” Keeley fanned herself, Trent chuckling at her antics. 

“I have to make sure he doesn’t get overwhelmed, but you know how it is,” she bumped Trent’s arm with her own, Trent almost spilling his tea, “our subs need enrichment, some time out of the enclosure.”

“Mmh.” Trent was sure Keeley had to have misspoken, what she had just said sounding like she was implying that he himself had a sub, when she should have referred to Jamie as her and Roy’s submissive.

Which was truly not something Trent felt like he was supposed to know.

In so many ways, Trent considered his guest pass to Girl Talk an honor, but his occasional visits also meant that he now had a frightening amount of information about the sex lives of Jamie Tart and Roy Kent, Trent pretty confident he could have lived a full and happy life without knowing that Jamie liked to wear lace panties, and that Roy had a lactation kink.

Keeley shared freely and without an ounce of shame or even a second thought, her and Rebecca completely candid with each other, Keeley once guiding Rebecca through how to attempt squirting while Trent had finished eating a croissant. 

It had been bordering on bizarre, but neither of them blamed Trent for the fact that he didn’t share, that he kept a tight lip on anything regarding Ted’s preferences and bedroom behavior.

Trent liked that they respected Ted’s privacy, that they didn’t push at Ted’s boundaries. Unfortunately, he was well aware that Rebecca’s friend Sassy had run her mouth, Keeley and Rebecca both obviously and intimately aware of just how well endowed Ted was, Keeley sometimes looking at him with a smirk and a wiggle of her brow that made Trent wonder exactly what Sassy had told them.  

Trent was about to take a sip of his tea, and ask about how on earth Keeley had managed to get invited to watch Alexander McQueen, when the door to the office opened.

“There you are!” Rebecca stood tall and gorgeous, a vision in pale blue, “I was afraid I had been abandoned and would be forced to have my tea with Barbara!”

“Rebecca!” Keeley put her cup down, clacking across the floor to throw herself at Rebecca. “You made it!”

“Of course!” Rebecca held Keeley to her chest, the two of them slotting together instantly, Keeley cuddling in while Rebecca let her. “Anyone up for lunch?”

~~~

Rebecca always felt like she had been run over by a train at the end of the transfer window, but Keeley had texted and asked her to please come visit and to bring lunch, so she had put on mascara and a bra, and even heels, and marched on. 

January was exhausting, but it was also a great reminder that she had one of the biggest dicks in the business, getting to negotiate contracts and go full Fucking Bitch a thrill.

It made her feel sexy and powerful, and Matthijs had already been instructed to be ready to go once he touched down in London next week. 

Lunch had been a gleeful affair, Ted let out of his long list of interviews to refuel, though his mouth certainly hadn’t needed it, Ted happily blabbering away through the entirety of their meal, Trent nudging his elbow here and there to remind him to continue eating. 

Their little group had broken up when a photographer showed up, Keeley apparently booking him when Ted had actually shown up at KBPR, a makeshift photo studio hurriedly put together to get a few updated shots of their gaffer for external and internal press.

“All I’m saying,” Trent didn’t sound annoyed, but his arms were crossed, his voice kept low as he talked to Keeley, “is that I could have brought a change of clothes for him if you had warned me.”

“Don’t be such a sourpuss,” Keeley wormed a hand in between Trent’s chest and elbow, holding his arm in hers. “I like him in that sweater! It’s his little uniform.”

Rebecca swallowed a snort, Ted up front with the photographer who guided him through a series of poses, Ted a good sport about it, though it was also obvious that he wasn’t exactly comfortable in front of the camera.

“It’s all about signature looks babes!”

Trent raised an eyebrow, but Keeley just grinned widely, the two of them clearly sizing each other up, Trent the first one to break with an exasperated sigh.

“Fine,” Trent squeezed Keeley’s hand with his elbow, allowing it to stay as he refocused his attention on Ted, “but he’s not even wearing his favorite pair of white sneakers.”

“Ted has a favorite pair of white sneakers?” Rebecca hadn’t exactly expected that, though she should have learned by now that Ted continued to defy expectations, even the one that came from her.

“Ted has a system.” Trent watched as Angela handed Ted a football, Keeley’s employee showing him a few poses, “Remind me to show you the next time you come visit. There’s an entire shelving unit.”

“Actually, speaking of Ted-” Keeley pulled Trent in, and Rebecca took a step too, turning her back to the photosession, Keeley lowering her voice in a way that usually guaranteed dirt, “How is he? After everything?”

“Well, he appears to be doing decently, but I can only provide an educated guess-“ 

“Come off of it gorgeous,” Keeley rolled her eyes, and Rebecca had to agree. She liked to think that she knew Ted, that she was someone he trusted, Rebecca allowed to guide him through his panic attacks, but no one knew him like Trent, except maybe Beard. “And I’m just wondering. A transfer window can be a lot.”

“Mmh,” Trent bit his lip, clearly contemplating Keeley’s words. It was one of those things Rebecca truly liked about him, Trent never rushing to answer a question if he needed time to think. “I believe that he’s tired, but that he’ll be okay.”

Rebecca let out a breath she didn’t even realise she had been holding, her old fears about Ted leaving them all once more raising their ugly head at the most inopportune time. 

Ted leaving had destroyed her the first time, but if he left her again, she wasn’t sure she’d survive it.

She loved him too much for that, Ted not her best mate like Flo, or even her soul sister like Keeley, he was just… Her Ted… 

He was the first person she turned to when life became unbearable, the only man she trusted completely, Matthjis wonderful and perfect and sexy and funny, but he wasn’t Ted. 

“That’s good, because I’m afraid Sky Sports might assassinate me if I keep dodging their calls!”

~~~

“Now, what we’re about to do today, it might feel scary, but it’s not, because we got each other, okay? I trust each and every one of you, to go out there and give it your all, because that's what I know you’re capable of. We’re going to, politely, give Leicester such a slapping to that they’ll never ever forget about it, and everyone will know that we are motherfucking Richmond! Now come on up Isaac, and count us off Captain!”

~~~

“What a fuckin shit show.”

Trent was glad he didn’t have the kids with him this week, the stadium stands buzzing with an electric but strange energy.

Richmond had won 1-0, so everyone should be happy, Jamie breaking free in the 36th minute to hammer home a goal from the halfway line, but the fans were aggravated, Trent witnessing the kind of football that could potentially go down as a game to remember.

“Waste of my goddamn money! That’s what that was!”

Trent stayed in his seat, the stadium emptying out around him.

“Those wankers could barely even get a goal!”

For some reason, Richmond had played the entire game with the tightest defense Trent had ever witnessed from them. 

“Load of pussies!”

They had been downright merciless, each Leicester player tracked with meticulous attention. The ball had barely left Richmonds half, the possession with Leicester throughout the game, but they had been helpless to do anything with it.

The statistics from the match would be a mess on paper, Richmond’s strategy not making any sense, but it was clear that everything had been intentional. 

Trent had witnessed a stunning display of dominance, Richmond forcing Leicester into a headlock and keeping them there, Richmond in complete control until the final whistle blew, Leicester made to be the fools.

It was so unlikely Richmond’s normal playstyle and Trent understood why the fans were annoyed, why the boos and yells had started up during the second half,  but as a sports journalist, Trent had instantly recognised the tactic.

Richmond had reminded the other clubs that they weren’t a team to be messed with, that their place in the top 4 wasn’t a fluke, and that they were willing to fight for it.

It was a warning shot, and Trent knew it’d reverberate throughout the league. 

~~~

“And then, when that man tried to get past Richard! And he just cut him off like that!” Henry clapped his hands together, and Ted grinned. 

Michelle and Henry had come down once the game was over, Henry instantly glued to his side, his son even coming into the press room with him, though he had stuck to the back, Henry staying put next to Holly, Ted willingly getting into the hot seat.

Richmond had won, but the press conference had been a bit of a minefield, Ted sensing a grumbling respect for their chosen tactic, though no one seemed happy about it either, not that the press were able to fault their defensive play.

The majority of the questions were about how and why they had chosen that tactic, Ted gladly giving the entirety of the credit to Travis.

Ted didn’t usually like to be as aggressive as they were today, but Travis had reminded him that February was essentially March, which was essentially April, which was essentially May, the end of the season not that far off, especially since Richmond had managed to stay between 5th and 3rd in the league.

It wasn’t as if they n-e-e-d-e-d to finish fourth, but whenever he stopped to think about it, Ted felt the heavy weight of countless expectations on his shoulders.

The pre-season prediction for Richmond had considered their fourth place placement last year and their second place placement before that to be miracles, everyone sure they’d be in the middle of the table.

That tuned had changed though, and now, it seemed like everyone was convinced that Richmond deserved to make it into the Champions League, the expectations the kind that could crush a man if he left it.

“I’m glad you liked the game bud,” Ted kept a hand on Henry’s shoulder, the two of them walking down the hall and back towards the locker room. 

Ted had managed to have a word with about half of the players, so he still needed to check in here and there, to make sure he gave direct feedback, that he praised what needed to be praised and corrected what had to be corrected, that his boys knew that he saw them from his spot on the sidelines, that Ted was right in it with them.

Especially since they’d have some new players coming soon.

“It was awesome!” Henry led the way as they walked through the double doors, “Do you think Dani can teach me how to do that trick-“

“I think you might need to ask Dani if Dani can teach you-“

“Really?” Henry’s eyes widened, and Ted became painfully aware that he wasn’t entirely sure what he had just agreed to. “Thanks Dad!”

Henry ran off, probably to find Dani, Ted making a mental note to himself to check up on whenever or not his son was about to be taught something actually dangerous.

They had won, but the backstage area was on the relaxed side, the hallway a lot more active than the locker room since the players were taking their showers and talking with the medical staff, everyone ready to get home.

Ted hadn’t had a chance to talk to Trent before he got whisked away to do press, and the wiggles in his stomach were growing more and more insistent, Ted longing to see his boyfriend with an intensity that could rival a teenage girls.

He finally spotted him, Trent all the way in the back by the doors to the gym, the wiggles in Ted’s stomach tied up in an immediate knot when he spotted that Trent was talking to Michelle.

Trent looked relaxed to the untrained eye, the two of them easily chatting, but by the set of his shoulders, he was obviously still tense, Ted a little ashamed of how willfully ignorant he had been, to have believed that Trent and Michelle got along when she first moved to London, how blind he had been to what was happening right in front of his nose.

Ted had never meant to make Trent feel unimportant, to have him think of himself as second rate or second best, Ted learning his lesson the hard way back in December. 

Trent had been violently hungover after their heart to heart, drinking an entire bottle of vodka at 46 enough to make sure he had spent the entire day bent over the toilet, Ted telling a fib to the kids about how Trent had caught a stomach bug.

It might have been a blessing in disguise though, that Trent couldn’t clearly recall the entirety of their conversation, his British boyfriend already beyond mortified at the bits he did remember, Trent actually blushing a bright red whenever anything related to that night came up.

Not that it hadn’t healed something between them, Trent showing up to Christmas with a smile on his face and his hand in Ted’s, Ted given the amazing gift of a Christmas with his family all together, though Trent had drawn the line at matching pajamas.

“Howdy!” Ted sped up his steps, walking towards Trent and Michelle, twin heads turning towards him, “You got room for another Space Cadet on this ride? Where’re we heading? And is there any in flight entertainment?”

~~~

“And on Wednesday, I’ll hop online and play some Roblox-“

Michelle watched as Ted was bent forwards, both hands clasped on Henry’s shoulders, Ted’s voice so painfully earnest it hurt her heart a little, her boys clearly missing each other. 

It wasn’t as if Michelle minded spending her Saturdays on soccer, not when she could sit in VIP and feel a part of something, the entire Richmond crew beyond welcoming. It had become part of the routine to come down after the match, but today, she had let Henry linger, the two of them staying a lot longer than she’d usually allow since they had to go home, dinner and bedtime awaiting them. 

“Dad-“

“Minecraft. Right, right, Roblox is a baby game, I’m sorry, I forgot. We’ll play some Minecraft, or maybe even some FIFA, okay?”

“Yeah,” Henry nodded, a small smile on his lips, though it didn’t reach his eyes, sadness rolling off of him in waves even though he tried to hide it. “That’d be cool.”

“Right…” Ted swallowed, tightening his grip on Henry’s shoulders, Michelle unfortunately able to pinpoint the moment Ted’s heart broke in half.

January had been… Difficult, to get through. 

Ted had been busy before, but Henry had never experienced it in the way he had this year, Richmonds schedule somehow matching up with their custody agreement in the worst possible way, Richmonds home games consistently landing on weekdays, which meant that Ted had been gone most weekends.

Michelle had done her best to support Henry, to help him deal with his feelings and his frustration, but it had obviously hurt, her sweet little boy losing a tiny bit of his faith in his Dad.

It had to happen someday, Henry a preteen now, but it was tragic to watch, her little boy growing up whenever he wanted to or not.

Maybe, Michelle should have asked if Henry wanted to spend the weekend with Ted and Trent, but she had a feeling he would have said no, Henry practically glued to her side for the entirety of yesterday.

At least, Michelle no longer felt like Trent was actively ignoring her, the two of them now regularly texting and even saying consistent hellos and goodbyes, which was a massive improvement.

“I’ll call you tonight, okay big guy?” Ted pulled Henry in for a hug, Michelle watching as Henry clung to his Dad, the nugget of worry in her stomach still there, Ted kissing Henry’s hair.

~~~

Trent hummed along with the record he had put on as he was ironing Isabella’s school uniforms. It was tedious work, but necessary, the pile of shirts, trousers, blazers and dresses growing dangerously high.

Ted had asked if they could get Indian for dinner, Trent readily agreeing, Ted practically melting into the couch as soon as Trent had popped on La La Land. 

They had eaten without saying much, Ted barely even commenting on the movie, which was a sign of how exhausted he was. Trent had planned to get Ted in the shower with him, but Henry had called about halfway through the movie, Ted jumping to answer, which was when Trent had figured he’d turn to the ironing.

Trent hadn’t seen where Ted had scurried off to, but he heard steps on the stairs, and looked up to see Ted come down.

“Hello darling.” Trent smiled, but he paused what he was doing right away, Ted looking-

“Ted-“ Trent put the iron down, pulling it from the socket, making his way across the living room, “Ted, what’s-“

Ted took a shaky breath, and Trent realized with a flash of horror that Ted was right on the verge of a breakdown, his brown eyes practically black with unshed tears, pain plain on his face. 

“Hey, hey-“ Trent reached out, grabbing Ted’s face, holding it in his hands. “Ted-“

“Please-“ Ted took a step forward, pressing his forehead to Trent’s, their bodies slotting together, Trent’s hands still on Ted’s cheeks. Trent quickly let go, putting both arms around Ted’s neck instead, hugging him close, a sob escaping Ted, Trent a little shaken.

Ted had been okay earlier, tired, but okay, but right now, he felt broken.

“Ssh,” Trent held Ted tight, Ted’s arms coming up to loop around Trent’s waist as he buried his face in his neck. “Sssh, you’re okay, you’re okay.”

Trent didn’t know what was going on, or if he was even telling the truth, but Ted had to become okay again eventually, Trent right there with him, Ted’s fingers buried in his sweater.

It didn’t feel like Ted was having a panic attack, his shoulders shaking as he cried, but there were no shortness of breath, no desperate clinging, Ted simply crying in his arms.

“I got you,” Trent whispered, turning his head to press kisses against whatever bits of Ted’s head he could reach, “I’m here.”

Trent kissed the little cluster of snaky greys by Ted’s temple, lips on skin. “I’m here.”

Eventually, Ted started to calm down, Trent whispering sweet nothings, Ted slowly deflating until Trent was basically holding him up.

“‘M sorry,” Ted mumbled against Trent’s neck, Trent shaking his head.

“Don’t apologize. Don’t ever apologize for this.” He kissed Ted’s temple again, “You’re okay.”

“I’m okay,” Ted sighed, the exhale tickling Trent’s skin. Trent didn’t want to be the first to pull away, but he wanted to see Ted’s face, wanted to look into his eyes, wanted to at least attempt to make sense of what had happened.

Trent gave Ted’s hair a gentle tuck, Ted reluctantly coming out of his hiding place, Trent putting enough space between them so that he could look into Ted’s eyes.

There were tear tracks down Ted’s cheeks, droplets clinging to his eyelashes, his face flushed, his lips parted.

“What happened?” Trent almost didn’t dare ask, but he had to know, Ted going from exhausted to distressed in a span of about 35 minutes.

“I was talking to Henry, and I-“ Ted sniffled, Trent wiping his nose for him with his sleeve, Ted’s arms still around his waist, “I kept saying the wrong thing, kept- I tried, but no matter what we talked about it, it went all topsy turvy. I asked if he was excited about us getting back to the Percy Jackson books, and he just… He said he didn’t like them anymore.”

“Oh Ted,” Trent made sure to use a new bit of his sleeve, carefully wiping the tears off his cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

“I had to change the subject, in case he suddenly decided to tell me he’s too old for a bedtime story.”

“Henry isn’t too old for a bedtime story,” Though Trent would have no way of truly knowing that, his own memories of being read to before bed entirely dependent on what Nanny he had had, “and I’m sure he isn’t too old for Percy Jackson either, or Roblox for that matter.”

“You think so?”

“I do,” Trent nodded, hoping and praying that he was telling the truth. “Listen, Ted, Henry is a good kid, it’s just been a difficult time for him, and looking at you, I think it’s been a difficult time for you too.”

“Maybe,” Ted looked down, avoiding Trent’s eyes, which Trent refused to accept.

“Ted,” Trent touched Ted’s chin, tilting his head up. “Keep trying, okay? Henry just needs you to keep trying. He loves you, and you love him, and it’ll be okay, alright?”

Ted didn’t nod, or give verbal confirmation, but he didn’t look away either, which Trent decided to take as enough of a win.

“Let’s get you to bed sweet boy,” Trent put a kiss to the tip of Ted’s nose, “You clearly need it.”

~~~

“Awh dang it.” Ted groaned as he finished rifling through the bottom shelf of the fridge.

“Everything alright dear?” It was Sunday morning, and Trent was sitting at the kitchen table, a cup of coffee in one hand, the newspaper in the other.

“We’re out of bread, and we’re out of butter, and we’re out of eggs.” Ted had planned on making french toast, then  pancakes and finally eggs, but their fridge was practically empty.

“There’s a bit of milk left.” Trent gestured towards the carton on the table, his attention still on the newspaper “Saved you enough for a cuppa, or at least half of one.”

Ted took another look inside of the fridge, a sigh leaving him as it hadn’t magically filled since his last look, his stomach rumbling, a lone carrot the only thing in the vegetable drawer, a tiny piece of cheddar the only type of cheese they had, which just seemed wrong to Ted’s American sensibilities. He needed a selection, or at least some pepper jack and mozzarella and provolone.

There were leftovers from last night, but Ted wasn’t in the mood for butter chicken first thing in the morning.

They didn’t even have bacon.

These were truly dire circumstances.

“Hey Trent?” Ted looked over his shoulder, “What are you doing for breakfast?”

“I’m already having it,” Trent lifted his coffee cup. “I can’t wait to show Roy this match write-up, maybe he’ll finally stop calling Marcus Better-“

“That’s not breakfast.” Ted huffed, closing the fridge to cross his arms. “You need to eat something.”

“There’s full fat milk in here,” Trent flipped the page, “and I’m planning on giving you a blowjob later, so that’s protein covered as well.”

Ted felt his traitorous cock twitch, the fact that Trent wasn’t even looking at him while discussing sex stuff real hot in a confusing kind of way.

“You don’t seem very interested in the fact that I’m wasting away.” Ted meant it in a teasing way, but Trent only huffed.

“You’re old enough to fend for yourself, but if you insist on being difficult,” Trent finally looked up, his glasses in his hair, “There might be some of your waffles in the freezer.”

Chapter Text

Trent had no idea how, exactly, he had ended up in the Big Tesco on a Sunday, but he was acutely aware that it was all Ted’s fault.

Ted, who was currently sweeping the dairy section, his boyfriend completely focused on the task at hand, despite the fact that their trolley was already overflowing.

Trent should have expected this to happen when Ted saw how empty the kitchen had gotten, Ted the kind of person who thought of grocery shopping as a bonding activity, who considered going to the supermarket a romantic outing. Who saw the pasta aisle as a potential date spot, Trent well aware that Ted was having the time of his life picking out goat cheeses and haloumi.

It was endearing, and it was fucking annoying, Trent really hoping for a day at home, to luxuriate in his relaxation, to have nothing on the agenda but laziness and a pinch of hedonism if the mood took him.

Trent hadn’t been joking about giving Ted that blowjob, sucking cock his midmorning treat, but since he had been forced to put on trousers, and leave his house to be a functioning member of society, it hadn’t happened, and now, Trent had every intention of making Ted pay for it.

Preferably with a massage, Ted’s hands nice and big and strong, Trent more than ready to be kneaded through once he escaped from this neon lightbulb-

“Any takes on cereal angel face?”

Trent blinked, so caught up in his scheming that he hadn’t even noticed that Ted had moved them to another part of the store, Ted smiling at him.

“No?” Trent could honestly say that he had never spent any sort of time coming up with any opinion on cereal beyond a steadfast ‘no’ whenever Isabella started begging for something more exciting than oatmeal.

“I’ll grab us a wide selection then.” Ted started picking boxes off of the shelves, Trent wondering if they’d need an extra trolley soon.

He tried to return to his daydream, since he still needed to decide if he’d like his feet or his shoulders rubbed first, and if he went feet, what kind of alcoholic beverage he’d be sipping, but then, he noticed what Ted intended to buy.

“Hmm…”

“What?” Ted turned to him, a large box of cornflakes under his arm.

“Nothing!” Trent had been in charge of the kitchen for the last 5 weeks, and he had no intention of repeating the experience for as long as he possibly could, Ted more than welcome to step up once more, which meant that Trent’s job was to hold his tongue and fall in line.

“That wasn’t a nothing ‘hmm’, that was very much a something hmm!”

“I didn’t realize you paid such close attention to my hmms.” Trent leaned forward a little, his elbows resting on the bar of the trolley.

“I always pay attention to you.” Ted grinned, and Trent couldn’t help but smile back, his boyfriend so unfairly charming, Ted perfection made flesh. “Now spill.”

“I’m simply,” Trent sighed, cursing himself for the fact that he was meddling, though he apparently couldn’t keep quiet either, “unsure if it’s wise for us to get this closely acquainted with Cap'N Crunch and his subsidiaries-“

Trent knew he had a very willful child, and that it was important to hold the line when it came to her demands, but it was simply easier if he didn’t create situations where he was guaranteed to get in arguments with her.

“Maybe, it’d be an idea to settle on something less flashy and fancy, something less tempting.”

“Tempting? Are you telling me you’re attracted to Cap’N Crunch?”

Trent snorted, Ted clearly talking nonsense on purpose, but Trent could play along.

“He does have a magnificent moustache, the grey hair makes him distinguished, and there’s just something about a man in uniform.”

“Oh?” Ted lifted an eyebrow, “You like his moustache? With the handlebars and everything?”

Trent had to bite his cheek not to laugh, Ted actually sounding a little put off, as if it actually bothered him that Trent could like another style of moustache more than the one Ted was sprouting, which Trent had to admit he found downright hilarious.

“Come here.” Trent knew they were in public, and that kissing Ted was a bad idea, but he’d sneak in a peck, the aisle practically empty. “Your moustache is the only one for me.”

“Really?”

“Really.” Trent smiled and kissed Ted, the once abandoned blowjob very much back on the table.

~~~

Ted had his foot up on his knee, his arms crossed as he attempted to pay attention to Beard.

They were in the press room, Ted seated near the door with Travis by his side, while Beard was up front, doing a presentation for the new members of their squad.

“We all know football is life,” Beard had a TV behind him, a remote in his hand, “but a beautiful life is Total Football.”

“Wooh!” Ted started clapping, everyone else joining in, though their claps sounded more confused than celebratory, the hesitation palpable, Ted certain their new players hadn’t caught the core of what Beard had spent half an hour introducing them to, but that was okay, “Coach Beard everybody!”

Ted got out of his seat, walking up to stand beside Beard, Travis hitting the lights while Beard turned off the TV.

He looked out on his new hires, Ted taking a moment to make sure he used his friendliest smile before he started talking. 

“Now, I know Total Football is gonna be real different from any other way of playing all y’all have done before, but you knew that going in, and if you have got the confidence in you, then we,” Ted pointed at Beard and Travis, “have got the confidence in you. We’ll start everybody off with some fundamentals, make sure we’re all on the same page, but the goal is that you guys find your feet, and figure out how to fit in okay?”

Ted didn’t get a reply, which was really his own fault.

“Here at Richmond, we like to use a yes coach. So let’s try that again. Our goal here is for you guys to find your feet, and figure out how to fit in, okay?”

“Yes Coach!”

“Attaboys!” Ted grinned, a few answering smiles coming his way, which was a relief. “We’re done with the sitting and learning for now, but-“

Ted cringed as he heard chairs scrape against the floor, his new players eager to get up and out, which he should have expected, football players rarely happy to take to the school bench, even when they needed it.

“Wowie you guys are fast, but hold on, hold on,” Ted walked up to the podium, a box on his chair, “cause Coach Beard and I got a little extra prezzie for each of you.”

Ted hauled the box onto the table, Beard coming up to grab the first stack of ‘The Richmond Way’.

Sanne at Books & Quills had laughed herself silly when Ted had put in the order, Sanne teasing him relentlessly about whenever or not he’d get them all personalised, and if there truly were no benefits to sleeping with the author since he had ordered them from her.

Ted had let her rib him, but he hadn’t joined in. There were benefits aplenty to sleeping with Trent, but Ted liked taking the right way around, ordering his boyfriends book through the proper channels the least he could do.

“And you get a book,” Beard made his way around the room, handing them out left and right, “and you get a book.”

“Yo Coach!” Raheem held his book into the air, “This required reading or what?”

“Nope,” Ted popped the P, “It’s just in case any of you need a little bedtime story.”

“There will,” Beard handed the last copy of the book to Robin, “be a pop quiz on some of the other stuff though.”

~~~

“That new boy, Sergio? You’re going to weep once you see him run. He’s so energetic, and he’s young too, only 19, but he’s like a racehorse, uh, or better, a greyhound, wait, no, a border collie.”

Trent held the door open so Ted could slide into the passenger side of his car. It was deeply unnecessary, but he liked that little bit of gallantry, the fact that they were both men not excusing Trent from reciprocating the polite things Ted did for him without thinking. In some ways, Trent actually felt like it obligated him to be as chivalrous as possible.

Ted hid a yawn as Trent got into his own seat, Trent expecting Ted to ask for Henry’s blanket, his boyfriend probably exhausted after welcoming the new Richmond players.

Trent had had what he would almost call a blessed Monday, Trent hitting flow from the moment he had sat down in the armchair in his office. 

He had one manuscript completely prepared, and another that was almost done, both works of nonfiction in areas where he felt confident enough on the pronunciations of the technical terms and people and places that he had barely needed to do any research.  

Trent clicked his seatbelt into place, ready to reach over and make sure Ted had done the same when his boyfriend spoke up.

“So, what are we having tonight?”

“Oh,” Trent involuntarily tightened his grip on the wheel, “I figured I’d let you pick.”

In reality, Trent hadn’t put in an order yet because he had about 200 pounds left in his cheque account, which had to last him until the payments for these new audio recordings came through.

“What a gentleman,” Ted smiled, leaning across the gearshift to give Trent a quick kiss, “Now, I’m about to suggest something, and I need an open mind, cause I know it isn’t all that romantic-“

“Mondays aren’t about romance Ted.”

“I disagree. I think our Mondays are incredibly romantic-“

“Please-“ Trent scoffed, even Ted, with his eternal good cheer and relentless optimism had to be fibbing right now. There was no way he actually considered this tradition of theirs romantic.

Nice, yes. Practical, sure, but downright romantic?

No way.

“I’m telling the god honest truth. How could I not consider it romantic as all heck when you see me every dang day, and yet, you still wanna do date night-“

“Ted-“

“Sorry, intentional dinner.” Ted grinned, “Two times a month? You may not see it that way, but I think that’s sexy as sin, and the stuff real romance is made of.”

“You are incredible.” This time, it was Trent who leaned over to give Ted a quick kiss, Trent unable to believe that he was lucky enough to have this amazing man all to himself. “Now tell me about your dinner idea, Prince Charming?”

“Prince Charming?” Ted sat up a little more, straightening his back, “I like the sound of-“

“Ted.”

“I’ve been thinking about Maes fish and chips all day.”

Ah, and there was the reason for the hesitation, Trent a lot less enthusiastic about Ted’s old locale than Ted was.

“You want to go to the Crown and Anchor?”

Trent didn’t dislike the Crown and Anchor, in fact, he liked it quite a lot, but it was a place where Ted was guaranteed to get recognised, the patrons there all regarding Ted as one of their own.

Which was, on one hand, wonderful, as well as deeply irritating when Trent wasn’t in the mood to share Ted’s attention with a bunch of strangers. 

“We could get the food to go?”

“You and I both know it doesn’t travel well.” 

“Ha,” Ted smiled, “Don’t ever let Mae hear you say that.”

“I won’t, I like my pints spit free,” Trent turned the car on, twisting to make sure he could back out of his parking spot, “Should we call ahead?”

“So we’re going?” Ted lit up, clearly not expecting Trent to give in, and if Ted hadn’t just been so downright adorable, Trent probably wouldn’t have either. 

“We are, but you’re paying for parking. It’s gotten downright outrageous by the Green, and I refuse to participate in that daylight robbery.”

~~~

“Mmh,” Ted bit into his fish, a tiny moan leaving him as the perfectly crisp batter broke between his teeth. This was exactly what he needed, the Crown and Anchor warm and cozy and so wonderfully familiar, the constant chatter of the other patrons creating the perfect ambiance for their evening meal.

He was on his second lager, Mae pouring one for him the moment they came through the door. 

Ted loved living with Trent, loved their house and their home, his primary memories of his apartment the crushing loneliness he had felt there, but he had liked having a local, had enjoyed the opportunity to just pop by for a beer and a chat whenever he felt like it.

He rifled through his fries, locating the biggest one, the potato drenched in salt and vinegar, which was exactly what he wanted, and just what he needed. 

“I have to admit,” Trent had chosen the shepherd’s pie, his boyfriend sticking to a half pint of Guinness and a large glass of ice water since he had driven them there, “that this is much nicer than what I remembered.”

“Told you so,” Ted grinned, their feet tangled together underneath the table, Ted indulging in a bit of forced closeness Trent letting him catch and keep his foot while they ate. 

Mae had guided them to a booth in the corner, Ted managing to get through enough hello and goodbyes that they weren’t currently being hounded, Baz, Paul and Jeremy set up nearby. 

Ted hadn’t asked them to guard him, but that was obviously what they were doing, Paul’s infant son on his knee.

“I’m sorry to have doubted you,” Trent smiled, pushing a lock of his hair behind his ear, Ted wondering if he should offer Trent the hair tie on his wrist, “you know,” Trent cut into his food, “I can’t even recall the last time I’ve had dinner here.”

“Makes sense,” Ted dipped his fish in the tartar sauce, “We’re usually much more of a lunch crowd these days.”

“Isn’t that the truth.” Trent ate another bite of his food, Ted grinning, the reminders that they were a family with kids always one that made him feel good, Henry and Isabella two perfect miracles, “I am serious though, I know you used to come here all the time, but I haven’t eaten off of the evening menu since-“

Trent cut himself off, a tiny sound coming from him, Ted sure he was blushing though he couldn’t see it because of Trent’s coloring.

“Oh?” Ted tried not to sound too interested, tried not to come off as too invested, but he was burning with curiosity. “What’s-”

“Do you,” Trent coughed, “do you think you could ask Mae to turn the TV up?” Trent wasn’t looking at him, his salad suddenly extremely interesting, “It’s hard to follow the Crystal Palace match from these-”

“Trent-“ Ted tugged at Trent’s foot, sneaking a shoe around his ankle, holding him close.

“Please don’t,” Trent sounded genuinely embarrassed, which only made Ted that much more intrigued. 

“Trent,” Ted knew he was whining, but he could practically feel his tail wagging, “Please share, don’t think I won’t beg, please please please-”

“I simply-” Trent had abandoned all pretense of eating his meal, his knife and fork left on the table, “remembered something rather embarrassing, so if we could just-”

“Oh now you’ve gotta tell me.” It was only the fact that they were in public that kept Ted from pulling up his paws and pouting, but he wasn’t far off, Trent dangling what had to be a tasty treat in front of him if he was this reluctant to share.

“Ted-“ Trent sounded exasperated, but not annoyed or angry, which meant that there was still plenty of room to brat it up before he truly started tap dancing on Trent’s nerves.

“I didn’t hear a Theodore,” Ted knew he was pushing, and pushing hard, but he was bursting at the seams, the curiosity about to kill him. “Please baby, please please please please-.”

“Okay stop, stop,” Trent held up his hands, announcing his reluctant surrender, “You think you’re so clever.”

“We’re not changing the subject,” Ted popped a few more fries into his mouth, “unless you tap out.”

“Fine.” Trent sighed, leaning back in his seat, “the last time I ate dinner here was the night I bumped into you.”

“Me?” Ted has only ever seen Trent at the Crown and Anchor that one-

Ohhh. Right. That night. The food poison night.

Shit. 

“Exactly.” Trent had once again read Ted like an open book, the two of them on the same page, Trent pushing his glasses into his hair. “I have to admit that you had some truly atrocious lying going on.”

“You knew I was lying?” Ted was genuinely surprised by that, his memory of the evening fuzzy around the edges since there had been so many other things on his mind.

Like how he was going to handle the fact that he had had a panic attack at a match.

“How could I not?” Trent held up a hand, counting on his fingers, “You didn’t catch my Cassablanca reference, you made no journalist jabs or jokes and I had to drag the words out of you. Besides, specific nastiness? Fit as a fiddle?” Trent rolled his eyes, “Even the exactamundo Dikembe Mutombo didn’t live up to your usual standards.”

“You remember the exact words I said?” Ted strained, but no matter how hard he tried, he could only recall the feeling of anxiety gnawing in his gut, and the fact that Trent had maybe worn brown.

“Of course I do,” Trent huffed, “You’re acting as though I wasn’t already hopelessly in love with you.”

Ted felt a wave of warmth wash over him. It was terribly self indulgent, but Ted loved it when Trent just… Admitted how long he had wanted Ted, when he spoke about his unrequited feelings, when he reminded Ted that he had somehow found him to be someone worth longing for, that Trent had yearned for him.

He had promised to never tell Lilian, but Trent had apparently fallen in love with Ted when he had told him that he enjoyed spending time with him at Olli’s restaurant. 

Ted had still been married to Michelle then, so he hadn’t meant to flirt, everything he had said coming from a place of pure admiration and a genuine wish to become friends with Trent, but now, looking back…

Ted had been devoted to Michelle, utterly and completely, but he could admit that Trent had been so…

Well…

Trent. That evening.

The man in question had returned to his food, his glasses still in his hair, Trent seemingly under the impression that they were done talking, but Ted wasn’t anywhere near done. 

He yanked at Trent’s foot, an annoyed grunt coming from his boyfriend.

“What?”

“You said something embarrassing happened.” Ted knew he was treading dangerous waters, but he wanted to know, Trent obviously hiding something.

“And me being tipsy while talking to you can’t be it?”

“Tell the truth.” Ted had completely forgotten his own food, his fries a soggy mess by now, “Please.” 

“It’s embarrassing.” Trent scoffed, clearly borderline uncomfortable. 

“Color me intrigued. Now come on.”

“Fine,” Trent reached up, plucking his glasses from his hair so he could fiddle with them, “I simply remembered that I really owe an apology to Bernard.”

“Who?” Ted didn’t know anyone named Bernard, and it wasn’t like Trent had a lot of friends or even acquaintances, Ted feeling a stab of the ever familiar worry, Trent’s loneliness on eternal rotation when it came to the list of things Ted agonized over.

“I,” Trent hesitated, weighing his words, “may have been on a date that night.”

“You were on a date?” Ted truly wished he could recall more from that evening, that he could remember anything at all, but he had nothing.

“Mmh.” Trent put his glasses on the table, grabbing his fork and stabbing a tomato, “He was a friend of a friend of an artist from Lilian’s gallery.” Trent ate the tomato, Ted waiting with bated breath, Trent finally swallowing and wiping his mouth with his napkin before he continued, “After our divorce, word got around as to why we had split, and Bernard took it as his chance to try his luck, as one might say.”

“Oh…” Ted felt warm all over once more, but this time, it wasn’t pleasant. 

In fact. It was very, very, very unpleasant, unease crawling over and under his skin, Ted pressing his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

Ted had to remind himself that he had asked for this, that Trent was only sharing information Ted had practically begged for, but he didn’t like it, a strange sense of jealousy burning in his stomach.

“What happened then?” 

“Bernard asked me out, and I couldn’t think of a decent reason to say no, which should have been plenty of reason to say no.” Trent sighed heavily, “The only thing that counted in his favor was that he looked a tiny bit like you, if you had a couple of whiskeys, ignored his glasses and squinted, which I was unfortunately willing to do.”

Ted felt like he had swallowed lava, every word Trent said making it worse, his stomach a bubbling gurgling mess of possessiveness and jealousy.

“He had given me my first mustachioed kiss, and it was nice.” Trent smiled, a wistful tone to his voice, and Ted had no idea what to do with all of his feelings, his fingertips tingling. “We were actually on our third date, when I abandoned him to make a fool of myself in front of you.”

“Your third date?” Ted hoped he didn’t sound as crazy as he felt, Ted more than aware of what usually happened on third dates. 

“Mmh.” Trent didn’t elaborate, picking up his glasses and putting them back on, Ted about to burst at the seams, his body hot and uncomfortable and overflowing. 

Ted had a million questions, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the answer to any of them.

It was crazy that he felt like this, Trent literally telling him to his face that he had only dated Bernard because he looked a tiny bit like Ted, but that didn’t help the green eyed monster that had currently inhabited his body. 

Ted desperately wanted to know whenever or not they had sex, if this anonymous man had seen Trent naked, if he had appreciated what he had, if he had-

“Was he nice to you?” Ted felt like he had run a marathon, getting the question out without it sounding accusatory or judgey taking an olympic effort, but he was convinced that he had managed it, until Trent turned his full attention towards him, his eyes narrowed.

It was really lucky that Trent hadn’t looked at him like this back then, Ted sure he would have been toast, Trent an expert in getting him to spill his deepest darkest secrets.

“He was kind to me, which is why I feel like I owe him that apology. I mean, I did literally leave him behind for another man.” 

“You didn’t go home together?”

“Wow,” Trent chuckled, a look of disbelief on his face, “you’re really not listening to me, are you? Bernard and I had dinner, I had more wine than I probably should in an attempt to ignore his most glaring fault-“

“What fault?”

“The fact,” Trent sighed, exasperated but fond, which helped calm Ted’s frazzled nerves, Trent reaching across the table to take Ted’s hand, “that he wasn’t you, Theodore.”

Ted felt a burst of that sweet, sweet schadenfreude, even though it was immediately chased by a shot of shame, his glee at another's misfortune very unbecoming.

“Oh Ted,” Trent tightened his grip, turning his hand so he could intertwine their fingers, “You walking disaster.”

It was weird how Trent could say something like that, how he could insult Ted, and somehow still make it sound like a pet name. 

“We were about to leave-”

“For some adult relations?” Ted hated himself in that moment, his stupid mouth never calling it quits in time.

“Yes Ted, for adult relations, or, that was at least the plan, but then I spotted you, and I told Bernard to wait outside while I abandoned ship to attempt some truly atrocious flirting.”

“Hey,” Ted felt mildly offended on past Trent's behalf, the flirting not that bad, though it hadn’t registered as flirting at all. “I liked your Casablanca reference.”

“No you didn’t,” Trent smiled, his thumb slowly petting the back of Ted’s hand. “By the time I made it outside, Bernard had left and sent me a very pointed text about priorities, which I absolutely deserved, so I went home on my own and had a wank while thinking about your mouth-“

“Trent,” Ted squeaked. He knew he had to be bright red, his cheeks burning hot, but what was he supposed to do when Trent just said things like that? When his boyfriend admitted to wanking to the thought of him years before they got together?

“What?” Trent grinned, mischief in his eyes, “It’s nothing but the truth. You have a near perfect mouth after all.”

Trent swallowed another pathetic squeak, Trent looking at his lips, Ted sure this was what prey animals felt like.

“Especially when I get to use it as I please“ Trent pulled at Ted’s hand, Ted giving a little yelp. 

“Wait-” Ted pulled back, his heart beating fast, the situation in his pants getting dangerously close to inappropriate, Trent somehow getting him from no chub to half chub to indecent at warp speed, Trent still holding him, Ted almost ready to moan- “Oh dear-“

Trent laughed, his boyfriend clearly not expecting the oh dear, and Ted shook his head, trying to shake the feeling loose, to gather his thoughts, Trent putting him under some sort of spell.

“Am I to understand that-“

“You hush your heiney!“ Ted knew he was snapping, but what was he supposed to do, Trent overwhelming him in the most delicious manner.

“Yes sir, Coach Lasso sir.” Trent grinned, releasing Ted slowly and reluctantly, breaking the contact between them, Trent picking up his fork once more, leaving Ted a hot and shivery mess.

It was truly unfair how much power Trent had over him, but Ted could take some power for himself too, Ted vowing to make sure that Trent wouldn’t know what hit him once they got home, Ted determined to give Trent so much pleasure that he would never ever ever think about stupid Bernard ever again.

Chapter Text

“Mmh!” Ted smacked his lips, the cup of hot cocoa in his hand warm and rich and melting in his mouth, “this is perfect Alfie!”

“You’re welcome Coach!” Alfie grinned, Ted the second person in line, a heavy and insistent rain beating against the windows of the Richmond cafeteria, which was why the entire first and second team were inside.

They could attempt to battle the elements, but Ted and Beard had looked at each other, and decided that today was a day to keep class inside, Travis the one to suggest that they should make everyone cocoa.

Ted was pretty sure Travis had been joking, but Alfie had instantly been on board, their nutritionist whipping up a big pot of unsweetened cocoa powder, vanilla extract, almond milk and maple syrup.

“Oh this is yummy!” Sam smiled widely, both hands on his cup. 

“My turn!” Isaac had found his yellow mug with a smiley face on it, the players all encouraged to bring a personal touch to the cafe, to make it more homely.

“Uuuurgh!” Jamie whined, his phone pressed to his ear as he glared at Bumbercatch and Richard, “This ain’t fair, I’m telling ya, if you loved me, you guys would-“

“Oi!” The doors to the cafe got smacked open, Roy walking in, “why the fuck are you war dialing me you little shitstain!”

“Roy!” Ted threw his arms out, “Good to see you man! Come join-“

“Cause you aren’t answering,” Jamie shoved his phone into his pocket, “and I want cocoa too!”

“So that’s what everybody’s fucking doing?”

Roy looked around, and Ted laughed, Jamie throwing his arms around Roy’s head, the two of them wrestling as Jamie started begging for cocoa, Ted making the judgement call that it was probably best to leave them to it.

Everyone had started huddling up in little groups, Beard apparently texting their Nelson Road Diamond Dogs group since Higgings had just shown up, Will hovering over by some of the new players, their kit man and newest dog making sure they felt at ease and welcomed.

Ted had figured he’d pop a squat by Beard, and make up a plan for the rest of the day now that they were caught inside, but right as he sat down, Holly came through the doors.

“Ted!” She held an iPad in her hand, walking towards him with determined steps, Ted reminded of a Mom about to reprimand their child, even though Holly was 24 at most. “I’ve been looking all over for you!”

“Guess you found me!” Ted didn’t think he was in trouble, but he still went for charming, cranking his usual good cheer up by a notch, “How can I help you Holly?”

“I need you,” Holly slid in next to Ted, “to approve the photos from the other day.”

“That’s all?” Ted put down his mug, accepting the iPad Holly held out, “You didn’t needa hunt me down for that.”

“I wouldn’t if you’d check your emails more frequently.”

“Whoops.” Ted smiled, emails absolutely one of his weak points, Rebecca sometimes grabbing him by the ear and putting him in admin timeout if he got too distracted from doing his job, by, well, doing his job. “Let me get a little looksie!”

Holly used her thumb to unlock the iPad, and Ted came face to face with a gallery filled with pictures of him.

“Dang…” Ted swallowed, a tendril of shame curling up his spine, “I’ve really packed on the pounds.”

The photos weren’t bad, Ted used to seeing himself on TV and in photos, but like this, on a white background with studio lights, he looked-

“What?” Holly sounded mildly outraged, “Don’t say that, you look adorable!” 

Ted didn’t know if adorable was a good thing, and it wasn’t like he couldn’t recognise himself, but he clearly had the beginning of a double chin, his sweater tight across his stomach, his thighs-

“Let me see,” Beard had risen out of his seat, snatching up the iPad. “You’re perfectly handsome.”

“You sure?” Ted squinted, looking at the photos again. He didn’t want to be one of those people that worried, his body a vessel to get him around, to give out hugs and eat delicious food, to kiss his boyfriend, carry his daughter and play catch with his son, but that didn’t mean that Ted was blind to the fact that he had obviously chunked out since the last time he had had his picture taken.

“Hey, Roy!” Ted took the iPad back from Beard, holding it up in front of Roy who carried two mugs, Jamie by his side, “Give me a scoop of honesty. What do you see?”

“What kind of question is that?” Roy looked at the photo, back at Ted, and then back at the photo again. “I see a 45 year old man in khakis?” 

Holly giggled, and Ted felt warm, the shame turning into manageable embarrassment, but he still felt a nagging sensation in his tummy, “Jamie, what about-“

“Nu uh, there’s no way I’m getting involved in any of all of that amigo! My Mummy raised me right!” Jamie looped his arm with Roy, the two of them walking off, Ted making a mental note that he’d probably need to explain to the new hires that yes, Jamie ‘Football Player of the Month’ Tartt were dating Roy ‘He’s Here, Here’s There, He’s Every-bleeping-where” Kent and that it’d be nice if they didn’t blab about it.

“So, you are all,” Jan looked around, his cup of cocoa somehow the only one with a dollop of whipped cream on top, “pretending like we were not aware Coach's relationship made him put on weight?” 

“Thank you for your candidness Jan.”

“You’re welcome.” Jan smiled, clicking his cup with Ted’s.

“You know,” Dani came to sit on the edge of the table, “Your beauty is on the inside, the outside, the upside and the downside Coach, and isn’t that what really matters?”

~~~

“And hold the dressing please.” Lilian smiled as she handed the menu to their waiter, Trent copying her. 

It had been Lilian’s turn to pick where they met up for their monthly war meeting, so they had ended up at a cafe close to her gallery, Trent asking for the exact same lunch as Lilian had, since she had an uncanny ability to hit the a la carte jackpot.  

“So,” Lilian turned her attention towards Trent, her elbows coming up on the table so she could rest her head on her hands. Her hair was up today, twisted into something that looked equal parts elegant and complicated, “how does it feel to be out of the childcare trenches?”

“I’ve been taking care of your daughter you absolute demon,” Trent grinned, Lilian fluttering her lashes, “Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?”

Trent had done what he could to keep it together for the duration of January, to pretend that he had it all under control, but as their daughter grew, so did her ability to snitch on him. Lilian had called last Friday, laughing so hard that she was snorting, Isabella apparently thanking her Mummy during dinner for the fact that she hadn’t made yucky food like Daddy did. 

“Not really, no.” Lilian straightened out, their waiter coming back with the twin glasses of wine Lilian had ordered for them, as well as waters and a bread basket, Trent feeling a fleeting moment of gratitude for the fact that his ex wife was picking up the bill, his 200 pounds already down to 182 since he had to top up his petrol. 

“Well to answer your not at all pointed question,” Trent dug into the breadbasket, “it’s been nice, and I love having time to work.”

“Aha?” Lilian chuckled, joining Trent in his rifling, their fingers brushing, Trent noticing with a hint of satisfaction that Lilian was wearing the bracelet he had gotten her as an apology gift.

It had been way too expensive, but the whole vodka debacle had required diamonds and gold, Trent well aware that that particular fuckup had been husband levels of bad which waranted a husband level apology, Lilian saving his relationship by taking him in, sobering him up, and calling Ted.

“If you’re working again, does that mean it’s back to the recording booth?” Lilian had split her bread down the middle, delicate fingers making quick work of it before she deposited half on Trent’s plate, “Because I was at a cocktail party, and-“

Trent allowed Lilian to talk, his ex wife chattering away, filling Trent in on drama he didn’t care for, people he no longer considered acquaintances and happenings he didn’t participate in, but it was nice to listen to her, Lilian a great storyteller.

She talked until their food arrived, Trent accepting his goat cheese salad with a nod to their waiter.

“Oh, while I remember-“ Lilian pointed at Trent with her fork, “Do you want your name on any of the presents to my mother?”

“Not unless that-“ Trent cut himself off, holding his tongue before he ended up calling his former mother in law a bitch to her daughter's face. 

Trent hadn’t told Lilian about the Christmas email, and Edith hadn’t retaliated after his blunt dismissal, so Trent had figured they’d reached a truce, that they had gone back to pointedly ignoring each other, and Lilian didn’t deserve to get caught in that crossfire. “I’ll send her some flowers.”

Which would bring his 181 down to at least 150, a tiny bouquet the same as an open declaration of war.

“Thank you,” Lilian reached over the table, giving his hand a quick squeeze, “and remember-“

“No roses,” Trent nodded. It had been an annoying quirk that Edith despised roses when she was his mother in law, but now, it was just exhausting. “I know.”

Trent could feel irritation slithering around in his stomach, could feel the urge to tell Lilian that her parents were horrible people who shouldn’t be allowed around their daughter, but that wasn’t his place, Lilian’s relationship with her parents not any of his business. 

Instead, Trent chose to focus on his salad, the pears delicious and crisp, the walnuts adding the perfect crunch. 

“Isabella is so excited for Norway.” Lilian smiled, Trent reminded that Lilian would take Isabella with her for her parents annual skii trip during half term, “My father is convinced this is the year she’ll find joy in cross-country skiing.” 

“May he survive the tantrum.” Trent held up his wine glass, Lilian rolling her eyes even though she answered his greeting, their glasses clicking together.

“You’re terrible.”

“Not half as terrible as Isabella will be if she gets tired,” Trent sipped his wine, warmed by the thought of how much of a terror Isabella would be if Edgar forced her to come with him, which he almost hoped he would. “Also, I promise I haven’t forgotten about the passport.”

Lilian had given him Isabella’s passport last May, since Trent had been contemplating whether or not to take his daughter to Disneyland during her summer holiday, so Ted would have an opportunity to reconnect with Henry at their own speed and on their own terms.

The plan had thankfully not panned out, Trent pretty sure he’d hate every single second at the so called ‘happiest place on earth’, but it could be worth revisiting the idea, Ted pushing a constant stream of American propaganda at the children, Isabella completely enamored with Belle.

Henry had not yet reached the sullen teenage stage, Trent fairly confident that he’d enjoy coming along, Isabella the perfect excuse for Henry to still indulge in things he liked to pretend he was too old for, Ted guaranteed to adore it all.

“Thanks foxy,” Lilian smiled, stabbing the last of her salad with her fork, “I’ll do my best to enjoy the overpriced and subpar resort food-“ Trent snorted, Lilian wonderfully prissy and picky, “while you’re getting pampered.”

“I’d offer to trade, but I don’t want to.”

“Rude,” Lilian grinned, “I’d enjoy that hotel stay much more than you.”

Lilian had been green with envy when she found out that Trent would be spending three days at a luxury hotel with Ted, and while Trent had suffered through his fair share of mini breaks during their relationship, he had never been overly fond of the whole spa experience.

He hated jacuzzies, disliked saunas, didn’t want strangers touching him and face masks always made him feel claustrophobic.

Trent was fairly certain that Ted could talk him into literally anything, but steam baths might turn out to be the line he wouldn’t cross, the humidity always fucking up his hair.

There was, however, the potential of Ted in swimming trunks, Trent fairly certain he’d happily endure everything he had just complained about if he got to oogle Ted in a pair of shorts.

“I’d probably end up plotting Ted’s murder though, I mean, is he truly that naturally chipper all the time?”

“He unfortunately is,” Trent smiled, fondness for Ted filling his body and heart, “and he’s a morning person too.”

“What a nightmare.”

~~~

“Hey Boss?” Rebecca paused, a bite of biscuit almost between her teeth. Ted was sitting in his usual chair, his hands folded over his stomach, one foot up and resting on his knee. 

She could pop the biscuit into her mouth, but Ted looked like he was about to say one of those things that’d make her choke, so she put it down instead.

“Yes Ted?”

“I rounded the new boys up this morning,” Ted twiddled his thumbs, “gave them a quick stitch on the sitch with the Jamie, Keeley and Roy situation.”

“Makes sense.” Rebecca had hoped that it was something Ted would have taken care of immediately, but it was only Wednesday, “Did anything come up?”

“Nah, they were all real chill about it, promised to keep their blabberslaps shut, so I think we’re looking at a home run”

“Aha?” Rebecca swallowed a smile, Ted so willing to look for the best in people. “How wonderful.”

It wasn’t as if Jamie, Roy and Keeley were something that had to be kept under wraps by any means necessary, but Keeley had asked everyone to share as little as possible, Jamie equally eager not to have the press involved in his relationships, while Roy had simply said that he hoped those paparazzi pricks stayed in their lane cause it’d be ‘fucking annoying to get arrested for battery again’.

Rebecca hadn’t meant for AFC Richmond to be known in the league as the queer club, but she wouldn’t have it any other way, even if she regularly had to defend her decisions and stand up to boardroom bullies.

The extra effort was more than worth it though, when it allowed Dani to be public with his girlfriends, when Colin could be open at the club, and when Ted got to be Ted.

Rebecca had always admired how Ted tended to not give a crap about things he should probably care about, her gaffer allowing her to paint his nails back when they barely knew each other, but it was beautiful to see him become even bolder. 

To watch Ted keep Isabella’s glitter on his nails or put on rainbow laces, Rebecca noticing how Ted had started wearing a pride flag pin on his lapel, Ted making sure to pop it on before sitting down for press conferences, or to have it on his jacket for games.

It was one of those quiet things that many people would consider unimportant and lazy, that they’d call performative activism, but there was nothing performative about how Ted continued to love Trent, how he unapologetically called himself a boyfriend and referred to Trent as his partner, how Ted never shied away from holding Trent’s hand or kissing him, Keeley alerting Rebecca to the fact that a series of pictures of Ted and Trent kissing in a Tescos were circulating on Twitter.

Actually, thinking of Trent and of Twitter.

“Ted-“

“Yes Boss?” Ted smiled, Rebecca melting a little at how relaxed he looked, the world truly a better place when Ted Lasso was content and happy.

“Did you talk to Trent about his seats for Saturday?”

“This Saturday?”

“Yes Ted,” Rebecca nearly rolled her eyes, but she didn’t want to give Ted the satisfaction of his bit working, Ted often pretending that he had no clue when or where they’d be playing. The most annoying one was when he pretended not to know which team they were up against, when Rebecca knew that Ted knew that she knew that he knew that they’d be playing Aston Villa.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint you, because Mr. Crimm will not be joining us in Birmingham.” Ted sighed dramatically. “It’s kiddo week, and while I don’t mind a bit of a drive and I’m sure Henry could pull through, Trent’s British enough that he insists that it’s too far, which I think is bananas, I mean, 2 hours?”

Ted shrugged, wrinkling his nose.

“That’s barely anything. Though he would have to have Isabella in the car, and I love my daughter, but she is not made for long distance travel, are you aware that she just, pukes,” Ted made a puking gesture with his hand, Rebecca the one to wrinkle her nose now, “everywhere if you hand her a screen in a moving vehicle? Might be an inner ear thing, do you think we should get that checked out? Cause I had this buddy-“

“Ted-“

“Right. Sorry. Back on track. I have not talked to Trent about his seats, but why would I-“

“Oh Ted.” Rebecca sighed, a little disappointed in him, “You promised me you’d talk to Trent about sitting in VIP?” 

“Did I?” Ted looked like someone who had genuinely forgotten, Rebecca’s disappointment dying down, though she was sticking to her guns.

“You did, and you have to talk to him, I know Trent likes to be in the stands-“ In fact, it was something they had discussed multiple times, Rebecca dangerously close to either dragging Trent off by the ear, or start begging, “but I don’t like that he’s just out there amongst the fans.”

Rebecca had barely been able to focus on the Leicester match last Saturday, her eye constantly drawn to Trent, the energy of the stadium electric, her skin still prickling with the feeling that it could have boiled over at any moment, Trent extremely vulnerable out there on his own.

“It could get dangerous.”

“I’ll see what I can do Boss,” Ted looked at her, Rebecca seeing a real earnestness in his eyes, “but I gotta warn you. Getting Trent to change his mind is about as easy as it is to get a feral kitty cat into a bathtub.”

“… What?” 

~~~

Ted couldn’t help but groan, his eyes closed, a series of small moans and breathy exhales falling from his lips as Trent kissed the life out of him. 

They were lying on the couch, Trent on top of him, their legs tangled together, Trent slowly but surely grinding his hips, thrusting down against Ted, their clothed cocks bumping against each other.

Ted had lost his sweater at some point, Trent’s left hand under his shirt, grabbing at his hip and his stomach, greedily touching and kneading his flesh, fingertips brushing against ribs, Trent unapologetic in his desire.

It was lazy though, and perfect, as sweet as molasses, slow and thick and the kind of thing you could drown in, Ted completely under Trent’s spell.

Trent titled Ted’s head slightly, right hand in his hair, their chests pressed together, Ted easily taking Trent’s weight. Trent had spent the day in the recording booth, and he’d spend tomorrow locked in it too, Ted a little sad that they wouldn’t be able to text throughout the day. 

They weren’t in constant contact, but Ted liked having the option of calling or texting, especially when Trent wasn’t at his desk at Nelson Road, Ted sometimes looking for Trent on instinct, even though Ted knew he wouldn’t be in his spot, the fact that he even considered Travis desk Trent’s spot a can of worms he wasn’t going to open.

Trent had come home from work earlier, Ted chopping carrots and preparing dinner when they had kissed hello, Trent’s hand coming up to rest on Ted’s neck. 

Ted knew it had only been meant as a brush of lips, but he had deepened the kiss, and then they had just… Continued, dinner completely forgotten.

It felt amazing to kiss like this, to have all the time in the world, to let it happen without any hurry, the kids not coming home until tomorrow.

Ted knew he could easily move it along, his hand in Trent’s backpocket, fingers massaging and squeezing, but he didn’t want to. 

It was wonderfully naughty to waste an afternoon on kissing, Ted bubbling with it, his head fuzzy, his movements slow and clumsy.

Ted couldn’t help but wonder if this was what it would have been like if they had met in high school. It obviously hadn’t happened for a multitude of reasons, but there was something intoxicating about the idea, about imagining what it’d be like to invite Trent over to Ted’s old house.

To take him down to the basement, both of them aware of what they were about to do as they sat down on that dusty old coach with the knitted blanket. 

They’d have to pretend that they were watching a movie, even if it was just a cover story, Ted breathless, the idea bumbling around in his head.

Trent would have written for the school paper, or maybe he’d be on the yearbook committee, and Ted would have been on the football team, Ted unable to hold back a moan as he imagined kissing Trent underneath the bleachers. Trent wasn’t young in his fantasy, but he was wearing a blazer, Ted in his football uniform, or maybe, Trent would wear his number-

Ted’s hips jumped, jolting Trent, Ted getting a pinch for his trouble, all thoughts disappearing from his head as Trent dug into nails into his love handle, Ted almost twisting away, but he didn’t have any room to move, Trent keeping him in place.

It was scorching hot, Ted’s nipples pebbling up, tight and hard, but Trent didn’t pinch him again, didn’t start rutting or pulling, didn’t devour him.

Instead, he continued the lazy kisses, Ted moaning into Trent’s mouth.

It should probably be boring, Ted unaware of how long they had been doing this, though his jaw had started to get sore, his lips a swollen mess, his moustache likely in complete disarray, but Trent was such a good kisser. 

Trent was firm and commanding and in charge, Ted easily letting him. Ted liked it when Trent made the decisions, when he arranged Ted to his liking, when he showed Ted exactly what he wanted.

It meant that Ted could allow himself to melt into it, that he could turn his thinking brain off, that he didn’t have to do anything besides giving Trent everything.

Which was so very easy.

“Mmh,” Trent sighed happily into Ted’s mouth, the hand in his hair twisting, fingers pulling, Ted’s toes curling at the pleasure and pain. 

He squeezed Trent’s ass, his other hand coming up to slip into Trent’s lefthand back pocket, Ted pretty sure that this right here had to be a little slice of heaven on earth.

Trent pulled back, and Ted whimpered, his eyes flying open, Trent on top of him, the living room light illuminating him from the back.

“We should drink some water.”

Ted had to admit that he had started to feel a little dry, the twinge in his jaw much more prominent now that he wasn’t getting kissed within an inch of his life, but he didn’t want to get up, and he especially didn’t want Trent to get up.

It was childish and stubborn, but Ted shook his head, moving his leg to get Trent down between his thighs, Ted pressing Trent to his body with his hands.

“Fuck-“ Trent moaned, his eyes sliding shut, his glasses abandoned somewhere in the kitchen. His hips moved, grinding down into Ted, Trent falling forward, their bodies as close as they could get through layers of clothes.

“Oh fuck me,” Trent breathed in, shakingly and overwhelmed, his eyes open once more, swimming with desire and want, Ted smug and satisfied and warm, “You’re perfection made flesh.”

Ted blushed, his cheeks going from hot to bright red, Trent’s compliment hitting him hard. Ted didn’t want to admit it, but he had been feeling bad about his body all week, thoughts about whenever or not he was good enough, if he was desirable, if he should change something, if he should diet or do more exercise rattling around his skull, but all those worries evaporated when Trent looked at him like this, when he so clearly worshipped him, when Trent obviously wanted him.

“Is there no zinger or comeback?” Trent smiled, a teasing tone to his voice though Ted could feel how hard he was against his stomach, his own cock straining under his zipper. “Not one little joke?”

“You kissed,” Ted swallowed, his mouth dry, “you kissed it outta me.”

“Oh?” Trent grinned, Ted reminded of how beautiful Trent was, of how much he loved him and adored him, “I better finish the job then.”

Trent kissed him again, and Ted melted completely, time ceasing to matter as Trent took what he wanted, Ted willingingly surrendering everything he had. 

~~~

“We promised not to read ahead,” Henry smiled up at his Dad, “but I think they’re ghosts.”

“Oh really?” Dad raised an eyebrow, the two of them holding hands as they walked down their street, even though Henry knew he was too old for it, “How come?”

“Well-“ Henry started talking, launching into his explanation of why he had to be correct about the book they were reading in English class.

Dad had come to pick him up at school, Henry playing it cool and skipping out on getting a proper hug where all the other kids could see him. 

It sucked, but he didn’t want anyone teasing him on Monday, a group of upperclassmen hanging around on every other Fridays to catch a glimpse of Dad, which Henry didn’t like. 

Henry knew they weren’t bullying him, because they never hit him or shoved him or destroyed any of his things, but they called him names sometimes, one of the boys in particular telling Henry over and over again that he was a liar, that he wasn’t telling the truth about his football adventures but Henry knew that he wasn’t a liar.

The other boys were just jealous, and Dad had always taught him to count to ten, and take the high road, so that was what Henry did.

Even if it was really hard. 

They had finally made it all the way home, Henry excited to see what sandwich Trent had made for him today, hunger gnawing at his stomach since the cafeteria had served them baked potatoes with beans, but as they opened the front door, Henry heard the thunder of footsteps.

“Teddy!” Isabella came into the hallway, Dad letting go of Henry’s hand to catch her, Isabella throwing herself at his Dad.

“Hello Izzy girl!” Dad laughed, Henry watching as he hugged her and kissed her, Henry’s stomach a giant knot.

Chapter Text

“That’s the last of the spread,” Ted stood behind Isabella, an arm over her shoulder, the two of them working together to cover their dough in brown sugar and cinnamon, “and now,” Ted put down his knife, turning the dough, “we roll it.”

“But how?” Isabella looked up at him, the back of her head bumping into his chest, his daughter up on her step stool so she could reach the counter, “It’s all sticky.”

“Not if you’re careful, here,” Ted crouched down so he could reach under her, Isabella holding out her hands so Ted could reroll her sleeves, “I’ll show you.”

“Okay,” Isabella nodded, her attention locked in on the dough, Ted sending a little prayer to whoever was listening that these cinnamon buns would turn out great, so he didn’t have to disappoint his little lady. 

Trent had raised an eyebrow, his nose wrinkling when Ted had told him that they were having beef chili and cinnamon buns for dinner, but it was a Kansas classic, and a dang good meal if you asked Ted.

He had started off making the chili with Henry, the pot simmering on the stove. Ted had hoped that they could all work together on the cinnamon buns, the recipe easy enough that Isabella could help, but Henry had told him that he wanted to get his homework done, and Ted wasn’t going to stand in the way of his smart boy focusing on school.

~~~

Trent hoped he wasn’t being ridiculous, but he had already lingered in the hallway for far too long, lingering in the first place idiotic, but he was just…

He didn’t want to interfere, didn’t want to overreact in case he had misread the situation, but Trent had watched Henry slithered off, the boy going to his room to do his homework, when he’d usually set up shop in the kitchen or living room.

It wasn’t like Henry to seek out solitude, so Trent had gone upstairs to check on him, fetching a book his excuse to walk past Henry’s door as slowly as he could, but Henry hadn’t even looked up, which convinced Trent that something had to be wrong.

Otherwise, Henry wouldn’t act like this, the sullen and sad boy so unlike the ray of sunshine Trent had come to know and-

Trent cut himself off, squashing the thought before it formed. He had admitted to himself that he loved Henry, but it was too soon, too much and too intense, Trent scared he’d accidentally blurt it out and make Henry feel uncomfortable, burdening the young man with his thoughts and feelings the last thing Trent wanted to do.

Technically, Trent could walk downstairs, forget his concern or tell Ted so he could deal with this, but Trent couldn’t let go of the look he had seen on Henry’s face, the pinched expression haunting him, Trent deciding to risk it.

“Henry?” Trent knocked on the doorframe to Henry’s room, Henry sitting at his desk, his laptop open. “May I come in?”

Henry didn’t look up, but he did shrug, his head resting in his hand. The shrug could be read as an invitation, but Trent wanted to be sure.

“Please?”

“Fine.”

“Thank you.” It wasn’t an enthusiastic welcome, but it’d have to be good enough. Trent walked into Henry’s room, closing the door halfway, making sure that Henry was wellaware that he could leave if he wanted to.

“Henry, I, umh.” Trent couldn’t believe that he had several awards for his journalism, his words abandoning him all because of an upset preteen. 

Trent wanted to sit down, but the only chair in Henry’s room was the desk chair, which was currently occupied, Trent feeling too awkward to sit on the bed, so he stayed standing. 

“You’re more than welcome to tell me if I’m overstepping, or if you’d rather I go get your father, but you-“ Trent considered his words, deciding on a blunt approach which he hoped wouldn’t fail him. “You seem rather sad today. Did something happen at school?”

Henry shrugged, his shoulders hunched, his attention on his laptop, but he wasn’t typing, or even scrolling, so Trent decided to wait him out, Henry often a whole lot like his father.

It was a good thing Trent was comfortable with silence, that it had never bothered him to sit through unease, some of his best interviews happening because he had shown patience.

There was a clock on Henry’s bedside, Trent deciding that he’d give this five minutes before trying something else, but it didn’t take more than three before Henry crossed his arms and turned his chair, looking up at Trent, a defiant expression on his face.

“Aren’t you going to ask me again?”

“Do you want me to ask you again?” 

Henry huffed, crossing his arms even tighter, Trent mentally resetting the timer as he looked at Henry, their eyes locking, Henry defiantly pursing his lips and lifting his chin, but Trent barely had to let him fry, Henry’s little face breaking apart, tears welling up in his eyes.

“I miss my Dad-“

“Oh Henry.” Trent kneeled down in front of Henry, careful not to touch him. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

Trent was sure other adults would have found what Henry said ridiculous, Ted just downstairs, but Trent knew intimately how easy it was to miss someone who was physically present, Henry apparently still reeling after Ted’s absence throughout January. 

“It’s stupid,” Henry sniffled, and Trent wished he had a handkerchief.

“It’s not stupid.” Trent tried to put as much warmth as he could into his voice, to make Henry understand that Trent knew his pain. “You haven’t seen him for a whole entire week, and he’ll be gone all day tomorrow.”

Trent knew exactly what he had agreed to when he had kissed Ted back, his eyes wide open when he started a relationship with a Premier League gaffer, but Henry had never been asked if he wanted his Father to have an incredibly demanding job, Henry’s choice taken from him.

“I’m sorry we can’t go, but Isabella is too little-“

“I know and it’s okay,” Henry wiped his tears with his sleeve, Trent aching with tenderness. 

“You’re allowed to be upset, and I know that your Dad misses you too.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Trent smiled, Henry downright adorable in his earnestness. “He talks about you all the time. He loves it when you send him pictures, and sometimes, he’s all grumpy if you don’t have time to play games with him-“

“Ha,” Henry had stopped crying, a small smile on his lips, “That’s not true.”

“Would I lie to you?” Trent dared move a little closer, putting one of his hands on Henry’s knee, palm up, offering it for Henry to take.

“No…” Henry took Trent’s hand. “You’re not a liar.”

“I’m not.” Trent knew that he was playing a dangerous game, that a promise of honesty could easily backfire, but he wanted to be there for Henry, wanted to support him and help him whichever way he could. “Now, how about you get downstairs, and find something to do with your Dad?”

“He’s cooking with Isabella.”

Ah. 

Trent was an only child, Lilian was an only child, even Ted was an only child, and Isabella and Henry had both been only children until recently, so it made sense that there’d be friction they hadn’t thought to disperse ahead of time, that the children would stumble and that they’d experience… Well, it wasn’t truly sibling jealousy, since Henry and Isabella weren’t related, but they were currently growing up as step-siblings. It was natural that there were moments of resentment and envy, that the children would step on each other's toes and hurt each other without meaning to.

Thankfully, this was easily fixable.

“Seems like I’ll simply have to steal her away then.” Trent tried for his most reassuring smile, Henry’s eyes narrowing as he looked down at him.

“You’d do that?”

“Of course.” Trent squeezed Henry’s hand. “You deserve time with your Dad, just like he deserves time with you. Now,” Trent released Henry, sitting back on his haunches, “do you want to sulk up here all by yourself, or should we pull some shenanigans?”

“Shenanigans.” Henry grinned, Trent so relieved that he seemed like himself again, a happy Henry, his favorite Henry, though he cared for all versions of him. 

If only there was something he could do, if there was a solution to tomorrow's dilemma, but- Wait.

Maybe there was a way to make everybody happy, but Trent would have to make a few calls, use up some favors and hope that Beard was in a good mood.

~~~

“Sleep tight-“

“And don’t let the bedbug bite.”

“Exactly big guy.” Ted smiled, pressing a kiss to Henry’s forehead before giving the duvet one final tucking. Ted had been cleaning up after the cooking session when Henry had rejoined him in the kitchen, Isabella mysteriously gone, his son grabbing a tea towel to help out. 

It wasn’t a complete surprise, Henry an incredibly kind young man, but the children didn’t have chores as such, so Henry wiping off pots and pans was a delightful opportunity to talk, their chitterchatter on the walk home cut short by the fact that they had reached their destination, which had almost been a bummer.

Because Henry was one of Ted’s favorite people to talk to.

Ted closed the door to Henry’s room, a little nugget of sadness deep in his belly, since he’d barely be home tomorrow. Ted knew that the team needed him, that it had been his choice to return to Richmond, but sometimes, he hated how every weekend had to revolve around football, and not even the fun American kind.

He made his way downstairs, Ted hoping that Trent had managed to tuck Isabella in, the bedtime routine taking a surprisingly long time today, Trent disappearing with her just after dinner, but Isabella could be one stubborn little lady, so Ted wasn’t exactly worried.

“Aha? Well, yes. Yes-“ 

Ted felt his stomach do a swoop, Trent’s voice carrying through the living room, Ted’s tail practically wagging in delight. 

It was stupid, but Ted couldn’t wait to spend time with Trent, since they had barely talked today, Ted only getting the briefest of hello kisses and a quick squeeze of his bicep as a thank you for dinner, Ted longing for Trent’s attention with an intensity he was going to carefully ignore. 

“If he agrees, of course.” Trent was on the phone, his boyfriend walking around in a small circle over by the record player, a concentrated expression on his face. “Oh. Wait, here he comes, let me call you back.”

Trent hung up before Ted got the chance to mime a question about who Trent was on the phone with, the excitement from before turning into anxiety.

“Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine.” Trent stuffed his phone into his pocket, and Ted wanted to believe him, but this all felt strange, like something was wrong and Trent was hiding it from him.

“Trent-“

“Don’t doubt me.” Trent didn’t use his most commanding voice, but Ted still responded, a bit of his worry dissipating. “Sit.”

Trent pointed to the couch, and Ted did as he was told, obeying without thinking.

“I was talking to Leslie,” Trent came over, but he didn’t sit down on the couch, instead, he took a seat on the couch table, their knees knocking together.

“Okay?” Ted tried to keep the bubbling in his stomach under control, Trent promising him that everything was fine. “Why are you-“

“Ted,” Trent looked directly at Ted, locking their eyes together. “Your son misses you-“

Ted felt like he had been slapped, like a car had just crashed into him, like he had been douched in cold water.

“Ted?” Trent’s eyes widened, “Ted-“

“I’m-“ Ted tried to talk, tried to remember how to do his breathing or any of his strategies, but he was somehow right back in the apartment kitchen with his Mama, Dottie looking at him with so much disappointment and regret.

Your son misses you

Ted’s ears were ringing, the edges of his vision blacking out. 

He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t-

Was he hurting Henry? Had he hurt Henry? How could his little boy miss him? What had he done wrong? 

Ted’s heart was beating like crazy, his hands shaking. He needed to, had to-

He tried to stand up, but he felt hands on his shoulders, pushing him back down.

Ted couldn’t breathe, the ringing so loud, but he knew that it was Trent who was touching him and Trent loved him.

“I’ve got you.” 

Ted wanted to be good, wanted to calm down, but he couldn’t- He had to, needed to. 

He felt hands pulling at his sweater and forcing it over his head, Ted allowing Trent to manhandle him, Ted getting pushed back into the couch cushion, Trent settling in his lap, a hand going under his t-shirt, Trent’s palm spreading out on top of his heart. 

“You’re okay. You’re okay.”

Ted gripped Trent’s wrist, Trent’s watch and his bracelets under Ted’s fingers Trent’s weight grounding him, the edges of blackness slowly fading.

“Focus on me, in and out, breathe.” Ted did as Trent told him to, his brain slowly coming back online, his breathing returning to normal, Ted regaining the ability to do the techniques Doctor Midfield had taught him.

“There we go,” Trent made a soothing cooing noise, his other hand coming up to hold Ted’s head, fingers in his hair, “There you go, you’re okay. I’ve got you.” 

“I’m sorry-“ Ted didn’t mean to cry, but he couldn’t hold in the sob, fat tears running down his cheeks. “I’m so sorry-“

Ted hated his panic attacks, hated how they hit out of nowhere sometimes, hated how Trent had to take care of him-

“Ssh,” Trent brushed the hair away from Ted’s forehead. “You’re okay,” Trent moved his knees, sinking even further into Ted’s lap, giving him more of his weight. “I’m here and you’re okay.”

Ted nodded, the tears still flowing. He didn’t know if he was okay, at least not yet, but when Trent said something, he was usually right, so Ted chose to believe him.

“That’s it darling, that’s it. Deep breaths.”

Ted took another deep breath, the ringing all gone, the blackness disappearing. He felt heavy and so tired, but he managed to raise a hand, clumsily grabbing Trent’s hip, Trent still holding a hand to his heart, his thumb stroking back and forth.

“I’m sorry-“

“Don’t be sorry, I should be sorry,” Trent pressed a kiss to his temple, his weight so wonderfully grounding, “I didn’t know, I wasn’t aware- I never would have said that about, about-“

“About Henry?” 

“Exactly.” Trent looked grateful for Ted’s help, his boyfriend clearly afraid of upsetting him again. “I didn’t know that this was a trigger for you.”

“Samsies,” Ted laughed, the sound wet and not all that sincere, his insides still rattled, “I didn’t- I had no idea it’d hit me like that, I-“

“It wasn’t my intention to-“

“I know,” Ted squeezed Trent’s hip “I know. I think… It was one of the things my Mama-“ 

Ted felt his pulse speed up, his heart beating fast, the memory apparently extremely painful, his body gearing up for a second panic attack even though he was exhausted.

“Kiss me.”

“Now?” Trent sounded hesitant, and Ted nodded, Trent leaning forward, placing a slow and sweet kiss on Ted’s lips, Ted relaxing into it, Trent pulling back way before Ted was ready. He considered chasing the kiss, considered pulling Trent back down, but now wasn’t the time.

“Thank you.” Ted let his head fall down on the couch cushion, Trent’s hand on his shoulder. He closed his eyes, letting the panic seep from his body, the last of it floating away.

“Do you want me to stay?” Trent’s voice was low and kind, his knees digging into Ted’s hips, “or do you want me to leave?”

“No,” Ted shook his head, a chuckle coming from Trent.

“No stay, or no leave?”

Ted opened his eyes to look up at Trent. “Stay.”

“Okay.” Trent nodded, settling more of his weight in Ted’s lap, making himself comfortable. “Okay. I’ll stay.” 

“I know,” Ted let his body relax, melting into Trent. He was tired, exhausted really, wrung out and shattered, but he was okay, and he was safe, and he was loved.

~~~

“Come here.” Trent held a fresh towel between his hands, the bathroom filled with steam, water droplets lingering in the air, the scent of Old Spice stuck to Trent’s fingers since he had washed Ted’s hair, Trent in there and under the spray with him.

It wasn’t something they normally did, showering together, at least not at home. There wasn’t enough space, and Trent hated being wet and cold, the spray never able to cover them both.

Cuddling a slippery, soapy and delicious Ted, was almost enough to make up for the fact that he always ended up freezing his dick off, or knocking something over, or getting soap in his mouth or his eyes, but he preferred to shower on his own.

Today, however, none of that had mattered.

“Ted,” Trent tried not to sound impatient, but Ted was lingering, the water turned off, his head tilted forward, Trent a little afraid he had fallen asleep standing up, or if he had dozed off. “Darling?”

“‘M coming.” Ted mumbled, Trent glad he had had the foresight to put on his bathrobe, and to not get his own hair wet, Ted moving at snail speed, stepping out on the bathmate. “I can do-“

“No.” Trent started drying Ted, not caring that he wanted to do it himself, the lack of protest and resistance telling its own tale about how wrung out Ted was.

Trent knew he had been on the mean side when he had forced Ted to get in the shower, but the panic attack and the following full body cuddle had left Ted an overheated and sweaty mess, his white t-shirt soaked through.

Ted could have showered tomorrow, but Trent wanted him to sleep in, wanted to give him the opportunity for a little extra rest, the team bus leaving bright and early. 

Trent got on his knees, drying Ted’s legs one after the other, Ted twisting away when he touched the back of his right knee.

“Sorry.” Trent had forgotten that Ted was ticklish there, a hand coming to rest on Trent’s shoulder, Ted steading himself. 

“‘S okay.” Ted’s hair was a floppy mess, the wet strands sticking to his forehead, Trent’s heart aching with tender affection.

It was rare to see Ted so utterly defenseless, to have all the bits of him peeled off, Trent holding the vulnerable and fragile inner core of Ted in his trembling hands, the privilege of that love and trust as amazing as it was terrifying.

Trent moved, positioning his leg so he could let Ted rest on it, Trent’s hand closed around Ted’s ankle. “Foot.”

“Trent-“ There was a distinct whine to Ted’s voice that would have been a protest if Ted was fully there, but Trent didn’t care.

He wanted, no, needed, to do this for Ted.

“I said,” Trent tugged at Ted’s ankle, “foot.”

“Alright,” Ted grumbled a little, but he did as he was told, Trent making quick work of the last of it.

He stood up, Ted looking at him, their eyes actually meeting, Ted’s pupils no longer blown, the intelligent and curious spark that Trent knew and loved right there.

“Good boy.” 

“Woof.”

Trent chuckled, placing a quick but sweet kiss on Ted’s lips. “Menace.”

He grabbed Ted’s bathrobe, wrapping it around him and tying the belt.

“Sit.” Trent pointed to the toilet, Ted doing as he was told, Trent getting another towel to dry Ted’s hair.

“Trent?”

“Yes?” Trent stepped in front of Ted’ holding the towel, but Ted looked up at him, Trent noting with a hint of satisfaction and relief that Ted was completely present and accounted for.

“You was on the phone earlier-“

Or maybe not, you was not a grammatical error Ted would usually make.

“Tell me what you were gonna say.”

“Let me finish up first.” Trent started drying Ted’s hair, knowing that he was buying time, that he was making sure Ted had actually resurfaced after his panic attack.

Sometimes, Trent worried if he was doing enough, if he was helping in the right way, if he was making Ted’s attacks better or worse, even though he had read article upon article about panic attacks.

It was… It was scary, to watch Ted be consumed by his feelings, to bear witness to the man he loved getting devoured against his will, to see Ted lose his grip on reality.

Thankfully, Ted came back, which was what mattered, Trent’s fears something he simply had to contain and overcome, Ted the important and precious one. 

Trent finished up, even drying behind Ted’s ears, a chuckle coming from underneath the towel at the parental vibe of it all, which made Trent smile too. Trent removed the towel, looking down at Ted, Trent brushing Ted’s hair out of his eyes.

“Still with me sweetheart?” 

“Present and accounted for Captain.” Ted smiled, and Trent felt a wave of relief wash over him, Ted more like a doll in the shower than the man Trent knew and loved. “You got anymore pampering you needa get out of the system, or am I free to become my favorite kind of insect and go all snuggle bug?”

Yeah. Ted was definitely back.

“Let me,” Trent touched Ted’s chin, tilting his head up, “do your skincare, and then you can go.”

“Sir yes sir,” Ted sat back, parting his legs so Trent would have space to get in close, Trent opening the drawer with the different moisturizers, Ted allowing him to rub the cream into his forehead, before he opened his mouth once more.

“Why were you on the phone?”

“Right…” Trent looked down at Ted, unease settling in his stomach. “I, umh-“

Trent had been so excited about his idea, but now, he almost didn’t dare share, Ted finally back to himself once more.

However, Trent knew that Ted valued, no, that he needed honesty, and he asked more than once, which meant that Trent had to respect Ted’s own agency.

“I spoke to Henry before dinner, and he was really upset about you going to Birmingham tomorrow-“ Trent hold his breath for a moment, waiting to see if Ted would have a reaction, but nothing happened. “Since that means he’ll barely get to see you.”

Trent rubbed across Ted’s cheeks, Ted looking up at him. He seemed serious, and he was clearly listening, Trent searching his face for any hints of panic or worry. 

“Now I can’t change my plans around and I haven’t said anything to Henry, so this is completely up to you, but-“

Trent swallowed, praying that he was making the right call.

“Would Coach Lasso, maybe be interested in wearing his Dad cap as well as his coaching visor for the Aston Villa match?”

Trent immediately hated the metaphor, but Ted’s eyes widened. 

“Seriously?” Ted had lit up like a Christmas tree, excitement radiating from him. 

“Yes. I talked to your Diamond Dogs and they’ve promised to take care of Henry, so if you’d like him to, he can tag along.”

“Are you being for real?” Ted was practically vibrating, Trent briefly wondering why Henry hadn’t come along sooner, if Ted so desperately wanted it. 

“I am absolutely being for, quote unquote, real, Theodore.”

“That’s-“ Ted swallowed, gratitude painted all of his features. “I’d like that. A whole bunch.”

~~~

“Nu uh! That’s not fair!” 

Henry was holding his breath, eyes wide as he watched the Richmond players, his backpack clutched in his hands. 

“Lil man is coming to sit with me,” Jamie pointed at himself with his thumb, “cause we all know I’m his very biggest most important greatest favorite-“

“As if-“

“He’s wearing my number!” 

Henry almost regretted wearing his Richmond shirt, this new one still with Jamie’s number, but Jamie was his favorite, even though Henry didn’t want to hurt any of the players feelings.

“Everybody, I think we should consider calming down,” Sam stepped forward, “Henry is his own person, and he can decide for himself-“

“As long as he doesn’t decide he wants to sit next to me.” Zoroux had his headphones around his neck, “No offense dude,” he looked down at him, “I just don’t like kids.”

Henry didn’t get to say anything at all, Isaac grabbing Zoroux's shoulder.

“The fuck did you say? Who doesn’t like kids!”

“Loads of people don’t like kids!” Jan dumped his bag on the ground, Will loading up the bus.

“Like me.” Richard grinned, “No offense ‘Enry.”

“None taken.” Henry knew no one at school would believe him, a Premier League team openly fighting about who he’d sit next to.

“That ain’t right.” Isaac didn’t let go of Zoroux’s shoulder. “Kids are the future man, we gotta be good to them.”

“Amigo Henry-“ Dani had joined the conversation, “I hope you’ll consider me as your seatmate for today. When I found out that you were coming, I made sure to bring loads of snacks for you-“

“What?!” Jamie sounded outraged, “We’re allowed to bribe now? Hold on! I need-“

“Wow!” Henry watched as Dad came through the door to the parking lot, both hands up, “wow wow wow, what’s going on out here boys? You would've thought World War 4 had broken out while I wasn’t looking-“

“World War 4?” Bumbercatch narrowed his eyes, “don’t you mean-“

“Depends on how you count them, Bumbercatch, now,” Dad didn’t put a hand on Henry’s shoulder, but he did stop right behind him, “I don’t know what got everybody’s pantaloons in a bunch, but Henry will be sitting with me, cause I’m his Daddy, and I said so.”

A collective ‘awh’ went through the parking lot, Henry smiling so much his cheeks hurt, this Saturday already the best day ever.

Chapter Text

Trent couldn’t believe that he had somehow ended up like this, banished to his office and forced to watch Richmond play on his laptop, in his own fucking house, Isabella downstairs and occupying the living room.

Breakfast had been a regular affair, Ted making waffles with warm berry compote and scrambled eggs, Trent once again reminded of how disgustingly lucky he was that Ted loved cooking.

Everything changed, however, when Ted decided to tell Henry that he was coming to Birmingham with him.

Henry had let out a yelp of delight, the young boy jumping for joy, Henry so excited Trent had almost feared he’d explode.

It had felt great, to have proof that he had made the right decision, that Trent knew Henry well enough to make him genuinely happy.

Unfortunately, Isabella had had a regular meltdown since she wasn’t coming along, Trent thankfully snatching her up and carrying her off before she had managed to ruin Henry’s much needed moment of happiness.

Trent had managed to calm her down, to explain to her why Henry was going and why it wasn’t unfair, to make her understand that Henry was allowed to have experiences that didn’t include her, Trent well aware that he had fucked up as a parent. 

Isabella’s heartbreak could easily have been prevented, if Trent had remembered to warn her in advance, which was why he hadn’t felt bad about essentially bribing his daughter, Isabella lighting up when he told her she could invite whoever she wanted over for a playdate.

What Trent hadn't expected was that he had received an actual numbered list of Isabella’s favorites from school, Trent forced to literally bite his tongue to keep in a laugh, Isabella presenting it to him like a queen bestowing a gift to a favored subject.

The letters were crooked, a few of them backwards, Trent sure most of the names weren’t spelled right, but it was one of the funniest things he had ever seen, Isabella ranking her classmates in glitter pen.

Trent couldn’t wait to share it with Lilian, and maybe Ted, though Trent wasn’t sure if Ted would find Isabella’s savageness as funny as he did.

“Daddy!” Trent had barely managed to sit down, Isabella’s voice traveling up the stairs, “We can’t find my fairy wings!”

Trent bit back a groan, the playoff whistle about to blow, but this was a hell of his own creation, and as an adult, he’d simply have to grin and bear it and go with the flow, even if missing out on a Richmond game felt almost physically painful.

“Coming poppet!” When Trent had left Isabella and her third favorite classmate alone, Charlotte’s parents the first one to pick up their phone, they had been playing wizard cats, which had seemed to keep them plenty occupied. 

He had apparently been mistaken though, Trent briefly wondered if they were going to be wizard fairy cats, or if that would be considered uncouth, little girls mysterious and silly and powerful.

~~~

Henry tried and failed to hide a yawn, his eyes burning, but he wanted to stay awake, the Richmond bus barely out of the parking lot.

Today had been the BEST day ever, and Henry still couldn’t believe that it all hadn’t just been a super vivid dream.

Trent had told him to pack his Switch, Henry replying that he wouldn’t need it, but Trent had insisted, Henry not understanding why, until they had started the drive towards Birmingham, and everyone had started playing Mario Kart. 

Henry almost hadn’t dared ask, but Dad had given him a gentle little push, telling him it was always better to try, and somehow, he had been allowed to join, Henry managing to get first place in a cup, even though Colin had blue shelled him, which had been beyond awesome.

He had watched the warmups, Uncle Beard calling for a keepy uppy competition, Henry doing five in a row, everyone cheering as if he had scored a goal, Isaac lifting him up on his shoulder and running the length of the pitch with him.

Higgins had come down to fetch him and take him to the VIP area, but Sam had said he felt more lucky with Henry around, and the locker room had erupted into chaos, the players yelling that Henry had to stay.

Which was how Henry had ended up in the dugout, Sam grinning at him before he ran out on the pitch, Henry pretty sure Sam had tricked everyone, but it hadn’t mattered, because Henry had been in the dugout!

Dad had told him to stay in his seat, and Uncle Beard had told him not to pick his nose since he’d be on TV, but as soon as the game started, it had been all Henry could focus on, watching Premier League football from the dugout the coolest thing he had EVER done.

“You alright there buddy?” Dad looked down at him, Henry wrapped up in Dad’s puffer jacket and cuddled up under his arm. 

“Mmh.” The jacket was way too big, but it was soft and warm and it smelled just like Dad, Henry cozy and safe and happy. 

“That's good,” Dad ran a hand over Henry’s hair, “cause you should try to get some shuteye. We’ll be home tonight, but it’s gonna be real late before you're all bundled up on your own bed. Once we get to Richmond, Rebecca has a car ready for us, but as Coach, I might need to stick around a little bit. I’ve talked to some of my guys, but you saw how Richard took that hit and-“

Henry felt his eyes slip shut, Dad’s fingers in his hair, the hum of the bus and Dad’s voice sending him off to dreamland.

~~~

Ted put a knee on the bed, careful not to jostle the mattress too much, but he heard a grunt and a groan, Trent’s voice calling out in the darkness, warm and heavy with sleep.

“Ted?”

“Hey handsome. It’s just me.” Ted had hoped he could sneak into bed without waking Trent up, but it seemed like he had failed, though he wasn’t all that sad about Trent being awake. He reached for the duvet, slipping under it. “You good?”

“Mmh-“ Ted felt a hand lazily grab at him, and he crawled in closer, Trent manhandling him, Ted happily positioning himself flat on his back, Trent throwing a leg over him and lying halfway on top of him, a satisfied sigh leaving him as he settled in.

Trent yawned, and Ted felt it against his neck, a hand sneaking under his shirt and settling on his stomach, Trent hooking a thumb in the elastic of his pajama pants.

Ted used to worry about cuddling too close, if he was being too needy, but Ted’s desires paled in comparison to Trent, who used him like his own personal mattress and pillow, Trent completely unashamed in the way he regularly arranged Ted to his exact liking. 

“You asleep?” 

“Mmh?”

Ted grinned, Trent’s reply a grumble at most. Ted knew that it was well after midnight, but he wanted, no, needed to hear Trent’s voice, needed to talk to him since he hadn’t had time to call after the game, Henry taking all of his attention and focus in between press and player feedback and getting everyone home.

“Did you watch the game?” Trent usually sent a text with congratulations or condolences, and Ted had gotten a congratulations text since they had won against Aston Villa, but it hadn’t contained any specifics about the game, Trent usually including a line or two about something that had happened out there. 

“Read the write up.” Ted felt Trent’s lips on his neck, the tip of Trent’s nose brushing against his skin. “On-“ Trent yawned, “BBC-“

“You didn’t watch it?” Ted didn’t mean to sound accusatory, but Trent watched all of Richmonds games, Trent missing out on one strange and unsettling. 

“Isabella had a friend over.” Trent nudged at Ted with the heel of his foot, Ted moving his legs, Trent making himself even more comfortable. “Didn’t go according to plan-“

Well that could easily explain Trent being distracted, Isabella a capable mischief maker.

“All fingers and toes accounted for?”

“Mmh,” Trent nodded, “and every inch of hair.”

“Ah.” Ted smiled, the risk of scissors thankfully something he had never had to worry about with Henry and his friends. “Stylist or hair salon?”

“Mermaid makeovers.”

“Makes sense.” Ted felt a little bad about the nugget of… Discontent? In his stomach, the world slightly off center and out of balance.

It was a fact of life that Trent watched every Richmond game, and today, he hadn’t, Ted horrifyingly selfish in how little he liked the deviation from routine.

Thankfully, Trent knew him like no else ever had.

“I’ll catch up.” Trent yawned, “so don’t worry about it.”

“Catch up on what?”

“The match.” Trent pressed a kiss against Ted’s neck, Ted feeling a hot flash of shame at how Trent had managed to pick up on his mood, even while half asleep, Ted’s feelings always bubbling right at the surface when Trent was around. “I promise. BBC don’t care about Jamie’s left foot cross-“

“But you do?” Ted grinned, his heart swelling with love, the unease completely gone.

“Course I do,” Trent yawned again, “how’s Henry?” Trent had started fading, his boyfriend never truly waking up though they had been talking, Trent surprisingly coherent for someone who was barely awake. 

“Asleep and well.” Henry had been a champ all day, never complaining, his big yet still little boy so excited he had practically been vibrating, Ted basically pouring him into bed after carrying him inside.

“Good.” Trent kissed Ted’s neck one final time, his breathing evening out, his body going limp, Ted taking his full weight.

It was perfect, and right, Ted closing his own eyes, Trent warm and heavy on top of him, Ted safe and relaxed and happy.

~~~

“And then!” Henry had the saltshaker in one hand, and the pepper shaker in the other, a makeshift football pitch on the table, “Llewellyn came swooping down, and he tackled the Villa player like that-“

Trent smiled, Henry performing a spirited and animated retelling of yesterday's match, his mouth barely standing still, Henry truly Ted’s son in moments like these. In regards to the blabbermouthing, not the footballing.

They were all gathered for lunch, Ted making them overstuffed sandwiches, the two of them quarreling briefly about whether or not there should be crisps on the plates, Trent telling Ted that when he was on English soil, he should act like an Englishman.

Trent had probably been played, Ted looking suspiciously chipper, but he liked having discussing with Ted, liked going toe to toe with him in verbal arguments, as long as the thing they were bickering about didn’t really matter.

“Dad made the call to switch Richard after he got tackled, but that was really smart, because I think I saw him limp on his way to the bus-“

Henry had been up till late last night, so he had slept in that morning, Trent waking him up right before lunch. 

Ted had told him to just let Henry sleep, but it was a school day tomorrow, and Trent wasn’t entirely sure if Henry actually finished his homework Friday.

“Miss Crimm?” Ted had his eyes locked on Isabella, Trent’s little girl practically glued to his side, her chair right up against his, Trent’s arm around her, “You okay over there?”

“Mmh.” Isabella nodded, but as Trent looked down, he didn’t believe her for a second.

Isabella had snuck into their bed right before dawn, Trent waking up to a child attempting to squirm her way in between him and Ted, Isabella determined that there was a space for her in the middle.

Trent had attempted to contain her to his side of the bed, but Isabella had sniffled and said she didn’t feel well, Ted scooping her up before Trent had had the chance to actually feel her forehead, Isabella dozing off on Ted’s chest while he stroked her back.

Isabella had been fine come morning, Trent checking her temperature and looking at her tonsils, even pressing a little on her tummy which had made her giggle, but Ted had insisted that they should all have a lazy day, Ted gleefully queing up another round of mind numbing American propaganda, Trent thankful that the Disney+ subscription didn’t come out of his paycheck.

“Poppet?” Trent reached around her, putting a hand on her forehead, Trent’s stomach sinking when she was hot to the touch, any hope of Isabella not being ill dying out. “Shit…”

~~~

Beard was sitting at his desk, his legs up, his hands folded over his stomach as he watched Travis stand by the whiteboard, his pocket filled with player magnets.

After the Man City tactics fiasco, Ted had decided to change their process, all of them now starting with a brainstorm before dividing and conquering.

Or, all of them would be doing a brainstorm, if Ted wasn’t checking his phone every ten seconds.

“It could be a viable tactic for our match against United. They wouldn’t expect it, and-“ Travis was talking, but Beard watched as Ted double tapped it again, his screen lighting up once more, which turned out to be the final straw for Travis.

“Ted!” Travis snapped his fingers, and Ted jumped, his eyes going wide with surprise at Travis' tone, “You’re being rude.”

Beard had to bite his cheek, hard, to keep his tongue in check, Travis calling someone else rude bordering on ironic. Not that Travis was necessarily rude all the time, he just had a tendency to believe that he was overly important, and that his smarts excused him from remembering his manners.

Which was hard to correct, when Travis did, in fact, have a razor sharp intellect.

“You’re not even listening to me.” 

“Sorry, sorry, you’re right-“ Ted turned his chair towards Travis, though he kept his phone in his hand. “Isabella’s sick.”

Ah. 

Ted’s worry made sense now, Ted simultaneously the world's best and worst nurse since he tended to go full Ted whenever anyone was even slightly ill. 

Beard wanted to focus on his friend, wanted to be there for Ted, but his stomach had knotted together, Beard swallowing in an attempt to push down his nausea. 

Ever since Jane’s miscarriage, when Beard woke up to the bed covered in blood three weeks after their wedding, he had felt- sick, whenever anyone mentioned being sick-

Beard swallowed again, the nausea threatening to overtake him-

“What’s wrong with her?” Travis didn’t sound annoyed anymore, a layer of sympathy in there.

“A fever, some tummy trouble” Ted fiddled with his phone. “Trent says he thinks it’s just a passing bug, but I’m worried it’s the flu or something worse.”

“Is she home alone?” Travis's question was so stupid, that Beard felt his discomfort disappear, the only feeling in his body pure shock.

“That’s illegal Travis,” Beard had thought he remembered what it was like to be 22 and single, but apparently, he had completely forgotten just how… 22, it was, to be 22.

“Beard,” Ted sounded a little disappointed, though Beard didn’t think it was fair to direct it at him. “Trent’s taking care of her.”

“That’s good I guess,” Travis shrugged, clearly not all that bothered by the social faux pas he had just committed, “but we need to focus back on-“

Travis turned to the whiteboard, but Ted was already halfway out of his chair.

“Actually, I’ll just make a quick call,” Ted wiggled his phone, “check in with the commanding officer, make sure they don’t need anything-“

Beard shot Ted a thumbs up, but Travis looked at his watch, a frown on his face.

“Ted,” Travis twisted his arm so Ted could see his watch, “we have the meeting with medical in 30-“

It was true that Mondays tended to be packed with meetings, that it was their one day a week to catch up on admin since the majority of the players were home.

“I know that.”

“Then you also know that we need to finish this.”

“Travis,” Beard knew Ted well enough to know that he had started to get irritated, anger without a doubt bubbling in Ted’s stomach. “My daughter is ill.”

“So?” Beard winced, Travis stepping directly into the beehive, the fact that the locker room was empty, a small mercy. 

“Excuse me?” Ted straightened his back, standing at his full height, his phone going into his pocket. 

“We need to get this done so we can drill it-“

“Not the bit I’m asking you to rewind to.” Ted had crossed his arms, Beard noticing the way his fingers dug into his sweater. 

“Come on.” Travis groaned, clearly not getting the severity of the situation, “It won’t make a difference if you call or not-“

Beard wrinkled his nose, Travis saying the exact kind of thing he himself could have blurted out before prison, back when he believed himself to be carefree, when he had actually just been a selfish dickhead.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Travis sounded annoyed and frustrated, Travis clearly feeling misunderstood and attacked, “I’m not some heartless bastard, I know that it’s unfortunate that she’s sick, but we barely have a lineup for Saturday-“

“I’m going to make that call-“ Ted reached into his pocket, ready to get his phone and for this whole thing to be over, but then, Travis continued.

“No.” Travis took a step forward, the whiteboard maker no longer in his hand, “What you need to do is your job, Ted, the job we’re all paid to do. People rely on us, and it’s not even like you’re her Dad anyway.”

“Ooof.” Beard hadn’t meant to say the word out loud, but Travis had truly fucked up now, the energy of the room shifting instantly.

"Ha.” Ted smiled, but Beard could see how furious he was, Ted finally pushed right to the edge of his patience, “You know, TravTrav, you’re a smart guy, so I think I might need to get my ears checked, cause there’s no way you’re this insensitive.”

Ted sat down on the edge of his desk, eyes locked in on Travis. 

“I-“ Travis seemed genuinely confused, and Beard could have saved him, could have stepped in and diffused the tension, but this was a talk shit, get hit type of situation. “Did I say something wrong?”

Ted didn’t reply, clearly giving Travis the opportunity to come to the correct conclusion on his own, but as always, Travis fucked it up.

“We all know she’s not your kid, I mean, the two of you look nothing alike-“

“I’m stopping you right there Travis.”

Travis instantly shut his mouth, and Beard applauded his survival instinct, Ted furious, though his voice stayed level.  

“I hope you consider me a reasonable fella, and I’m trying real hard not to take what you just said personal.” Ted smiled, standing up, but there was nothing friendly about the smile.

“I know your parents are still together, and congratulations to them, Kurt and Margaret are lovely people, and I love love and I love to see love win, but it also means that you have no idea what you’re talking about. You don’t know what it’s like to be married and put everything you have into making it work. You don’t know what it’s like to get divorced, to find love again, heck, you don’t even know what it’s like to be in your first committed relationship.”

Ted had walked right up to Travis' space, standing so close to him the tips of their shoes were touching.

“You’re 22, Travis, we’ve all been 22. You think you got everything figured out, that you’re a real adult, but in reality, you’ve barely even begun, so I’m going to cut you some slack, however you listen to me, and you listen carefully.”

Ted put a finger on Travis chest, Travis giving a tiny whimper even though he could easily take Ted in a fight, Travis arms the size of Ted’s thighs. 

“Isabella might not be mine by blood, and I ain’t her Dad, and I’ll never be her Dad, cause she already got the best damned Dad she ever could in her Daddy, who’s a fantastic fucking parent-“

Beard winched, Ted only swearing when he really meant it.

“But that doesn’t mean that she isn’t my kid too, that I don’t consider her my daughter, and if I ever hear you-“ 

Ted pressed his finger into Travis chest, Travis cheeks aflame, Beard sure he could spot humiliated tears in Travis eyes.

“Say something this hurtful, ever again, about my family, you and I are going to have a problem, not an ‘I’m sorry and we fix it’ problem but an actual problem, you get me?”

“Yes Coach.” Travis swallowed, his eyes downcast, his entire posture deflated.

“Good.” Ted removed his finger, giving Travis shoulder a squeeze. “Now I don’t normally do this, cause I want the words that leave your mouth to be genuine and from the heart, but I’m pissed off enough that you’re going to give me an apology after lunch, and to make sure that I don’t start cussing you out again, you’re excused from the medical meeting.”

“Yes Coach.”

“Thanks, you’re a good kid Travis, but you gotta watch that mouth of yours,” Ted squeezed Travis' shoulder once more, “Now, if you’ll excuse me. I’m going to go make a call, and check up on my daughter.”

~~~

“No, that’s silly. Mermaids don’t have seaweed hair.”

Trent swallowed a smile, Isabella arguing with Ted on the phone, his daughter folded up and placed in the armchair in the office, Princess Bubbles in her arms, the iPad on her lap.

Ted had been calling at regular intervals throughout the day, Trent glad he wasn’t the one who was sick, because he was pretty sure he would snapped Ted’s head clean off, Trent unfortunately turning into a very pathetic and miserable monster when he was under the weather.

Isabella, however, loved the attention, spoiled little princess that she was.

She should probably be cuddled up in her bed, but Trent was rooting around for her passport, his daughter begging him to take her with him when he had tried to leave her room.

“No Teddy,” Isabella shook her head, “they don’t do that either. Daddy, tell Teddy he’s not allowed to fib!”

“Tell him yourself,” Trent smiled, digging through the drawer. Trent couldn’t hear Ted’s half of the conversation, but if he had to hazard a guess, Ted was telling one of his outrageous tales, riling Isabella up on purpose.

“Daddy says you’re not allowed to fib.”

It was good to see Isabella smile, the night kind of brutal. Trent had slept on a mattress next to Isabella’s bed, Trent there whenever she woke up, ready to hold her hair, to fetch a new cloth for her forehead, to help her fall back asleep. 

Trent knew that it was probably overprotective and maybe even a little dramatic, but he had spent too many nights sick and alone as a child, wishing that his Nanny would come check on him, wishing that anyone at all would care that he didn’t feel well, and he refused to let Isabella experience that heartache. 

Ted had offered that she could sleep in their bed, and Trent loved him for it, but Ted had been firmly banished from Isabella’s room, Ted not even allowed to hug and kiss her goodbye, since Trent couldn’t bear the thought of Ted getting sick.

Not when Richmond needed him, and especially not when Henry needed him. 

Henry had thankfully possessed enough sense to see the logic in keeping his distance, but Ted had been a pouty whiny mess, Trent refusing to give him a goodbye kiss since Isabella had 100% infected him if this bout of illness was anything more than a spot of fever.

“Tell another story Teddy,” Isabella yawned, his little girl cuddled up in her duvet, the phone pressed to her ear.

Trent finally found his important documents folder, Isabella’s passport in there alongside his own, Trent dumping it on his desk to flick through later.

Lilian hadn’t given him a deadline on the passport thing, but he’d swing by the gallery once Isabella had returned to full health and hand it over himself, since he had an ulterior motive for a gallery trip.

Trent wasn’t sure if it was a good idea, but Rebecca had invited him and Ted over to her house for a birthday celebration in a couple of weeks time, Rebecca promising that it’d be an intimate affair for her nearest and dearest, and that it’d be incredibly low key, but Trent also knew Rebecca, and her tendency to go overboard.

They hadn’t had a chance to discuss it yet, but Trent had no idea what kind of gift you were supposed to get someone like Rebecca Welton. 

He did, however, have high hopes that Lilian would be able to help him out. Trent certainly couldn’t afford a Hockney, but he figured Rebecca would still appreciate some original art, the wall by her downstairs toilet the perfect space for a painting.

“What? No!” Trent looked up, a distinct whine coming from Isabella. “Don’t leave-“ 

Isabella sniffled, and Trent could spot the incoming tantrum from a mile away.

“Isabella. None of that now.” Trent held out his hand, clearly signaling to her that he wanted his phone. “Ted is at work, and if you don’t say a nice goodbye, you won’t get one at all.”

Isabella locked eyes with him, a defiant set to her mouth, her little face scrunched up, Trent afraid they’d have to get in a fight, but then, she thankfully gave in.

“Bye bye Teddy…” Isabella pouted, the little shit probably gear up for a round of crocodile tears, Trent certain Ted would break under pressure.

“Give me the phone.” Trent took it, Isabella crossing her arms, Trent calling her bullshit correctly. “Hello Ted.”

“Phew,” Trent smiled at the relief in Ted’s voice, “how’d you know my heart was about to crack right down the center?”

“Because you’re easily manipulated and insist on negotiating with terrorists?” 

“Yeah, that sounds about right.”

Chapter Text

“Goddamn it,” Ted groaned, cursing to himself as he struggled to get his keys in the front door, his arms overflowing. 

Today had been… 

Ted didn’t even want to think about it. 

He had slept badly last night, his brain working overtime because Isabella was sick. Trent had slept on the floor in Isabella’s room, Ted refused entry when he had offered to join them, which meant that he had spent the night tossing and turning, Ted constantly waking up, anxiety and worry gnawing at him.

It’d be a regular disaster if Ted brought a bug into Nelson Road, so it made logical sense why Trent had barred him entry, why he hadn’t been allowed to give hugs and kisses, but he still hated the exclusion, everything all wrong wrong wrong, until the feelings had boiled over, and Ted had exploded.

He hadn’t meant to get that angry with Travis, but what he had said-

Claiming that Isabella wasn’t his kid.

It had been so insensitive, so rude, so-

Exactly what Ted sometimes worried about. 

Ted loved Isabella, and it didn’t matter to him that she wasn’t his by blood, but Ted knew how cruel the world could be, and his little girl didn’t deserve that, didn’t-

Ted jammed the key into the door, the anger still thick and heavy in his stomach. 

Travis had given him an apology, and it had felt genuine, but Ted hated that they had reached that point in the first place, Travis so…

Ted knew exactly why Nate had hired Travis, Travis bringing a Nate flavored sort of tactical brilliance to their team that neither Ted nor Beard possessed, but sometimes, dealing with Travis felt like dealing with the most insecure, uncertain, egotistical little-

Ted stopped himself, taking a deep breath in through his nose. 

It was insane how Travis managed to wiggle under his walls, to burrow deep into his brain, to press all of Ted’s buttons, to piss him off in a way that made him long to go full Led Tasso on his-

Wow. 

Ted really needed to get it together, and calm the fuck down.

He opened the door, getting inside, careful not to squash any of the balloons, or drop the stuffed animal, or bang the shopping bag into anything, or squeeze the flowers, a big puzzle box sticking out of his backpack.

Ted had managed to stay at Nelson Road until just after lunch, Beard sending him home with a tap on the tusch and a reminder not to go too overboard, which was - unfortunately - exactly what Ted had done.

He had only stopped by a store to pick up ingredients for chicken noodle soup, but on the way out he had seen the stuffed animals, and the balloons, and he couldn’t get something for Isabella without getting something for Henry too, hence the puzzle, and he couldn’t forget about Trent so Ted had picked up a bouquet and a bottle of wine too.

Maybe, Beard had been right, this whole thing feeling somewhat ridiculous, Ted carefully toing off his shoes, the balloons bouncing against the ceiling.

“Hello?” Ted called out, hoping he wouldn’t wake anyone up.

“Ted?” Ted smiled, Trent’s voice coming from the living room, so he walked in, trying not to drop anything. “You’re home early?”

Trent was on the couch, sitting up against the armrest, a book in his hand, Isabella lying on the other end, his little girl asleep with her mouth wide open, the TV paused on an episode of Angelina Ballerina.

“Holy shit.” Trent’s eyes widened. “Did you rob a gift shop?”

“Hello to you too.” Ted wanted to get a kiss, but he wasn’t sure he’d survive another rejection, Trent turning his head that morning when Ted had tried to kiss him goodbye, reminding him of the germs. 

“I know I went a little overboard-” Ted didn’t normally feel this wrongfooted around Trent, didn’t feel so off center, but it had really hurt that Trent didn’t want his kiss. “In my defense-“

“Teddy?” Isabella sat up, rubbing her eyes, her hair collected in a big and messy bun.

“Hey Princess.” Ted twisted his hand, collecting the strings of the balloons to give them to Isabella. “These are for you.”

“Wow!” Isabella’s jaw dropped, Ted buying her a unicorn, a dinosaur and a get well soon balloon, since he couldn’t decide between them.

“Thank you!” Isabella looked up at him, “I love them!”

“You’re gonna love this one more.” Ted gave her the bear that had originally gotten him into this whole mess, its fur a pastel rainbow, the thing as big as Isabella’s upper body.

“It’s so soft!” Isabella hugged it tight, burrowing her face in it, the unicorn floating along the ceiling, Isabella accidentally releasing the string.

“Say thank you to Ted, poppet.”

“Thank you Teddy!” Isabella grinned widely, gratitude radiating off of her.

“You’re welcome beanie baby, I, umh,” Ted almost didn’t dare look at Trent, his eyes glued to his shoes, but he held the flowers out anyway. “Here.”

“You got me flowers?” Trent’s voice was filled with disbelief, Ted sneaking a peek, Trent looking at the bouquet like he couldn’t believe it was real, Ted picking up the nicest one they had, which wasn’t all that nice since they were grocery store flowers, but still-

“Yeah.” Ted would stuff his hands in his pockets if he could, but he was still holding the groceries, rare embarrassment pooling in his stomach. 

He wasn’t usually like this, especially not with Trent, but he just-

“Come here.”

Ted took a step forward without thinking, Trent’s hand coming up to grab the front of Ted’s jacket, pulling him down for a kiss. 

It was close mouthed, barely more than lips against lips, but Ted felt like he had exploded on the inside, his bits coming apart and slotting back together, his entire body relaxing against Trent, Ted melting into the kiss. 

Trent pulled back, their noses still touching, Ted wishing for more, though he knew he couldn’t have it yet, Isabella right there on the couch.

“Thank you Ted.” Trent kissed the tip of Ted’s nose. “They’re perfect.”

~~~

Trent knew he was edging towards the line of unfair kid week behavior with the way he was clinging to Ted, but he couldn’t help it, his arms wrapped around Ted from behind, his head resting on his shoulder, Trent just soaking in his presence. 

He did his best to keep it from turning sexual, from cuddling so close he would start turning Ted on, Trent’s hips flush against his ass, but he wasn’t anywhere near hard, which had to count for something. 

Ted was technically cooking, Trent not really paying attention, but the kitchen smelled heavenly, Ted telling Isabella that he was making her his famous chicken noodle soup right before Trent had tucked her in for another nap, his presence no longer required now that she had her brand new bear. 

Trent knew that he was stupidly, hopelessly, endlessly and relentlessly in love with Ted, but Ted had, somehow, managed to bump up the intensity of Trent’s feelings with his ridiculous stunt today, Trent’s stomach filled with butterflies. 

Because Ted had gotten him flowers. Trent had no idea he wanted them, that a bouquet could fill him with this much silly excitement, but he understood now why Lilian had liked it so much whenever he had randomly picked some up for her, how much it could mean to be thought of without any occasion or reason.

Trent pressed a careful kiss to Ted’s shoulder, making sure not to make it too sexual, his thumb hooked in Ted’s belt. Trent should probably leave Ted alone, or at least offer to help, but he didn’t want to, Ted humming to himself, his arms moving as he cooked.

It shouldn’t be romantic that Ted had showered Trent’s already spoiled daughter in gifts, but they weren’t just any gifts, none of them purchased as a cheap way to win Isabella's affection, instead, they were thoughtful, and sweet, and yes, overboard, but that was just who Ted was, in all his whacky glory.

“Daddy?” Trent was pulled from his cuddles by his daughter’s voice, Isabella standing by the door, his nose wrinkling as her duvet was dragging along the floor.

“Isabella?” Trent peeled himself off of Ted’s back, already mourning the loss, “Are you already up?”

“Mmh.” Isabella nodded, and Trent glanced at his watch, this latest nap barely lasting 20 minutes.

“Hey sweet pea!” Ted didn’t step away from the stove, but he did wave, Trent noticing with a moment of disgust that he was apparently pulling apart an entire chicken, Trent truly not made for kitchen life.

“Are you feeling okay Poppet?” Trent crouched down in front of her, taking her in. 

Isabella nodded again, but Trent still reached out, touching her forehead. She was warm, but there was no flush in her cheeks, her eyes no longer glossy, Trent making a mental note to take her temperature.

“Can I watch Teddy on TV?”

Trent felt his stomach do a flip, embarrassment washing over him. “Right now?”

“Mmmh.” Isabella held her bear, his daughter apparently completely uncaring that real life Ted was in the room with them, “I wanna hear the Hank story.”

“What’re you two gabbing about?” 

“Nothing,” Trent reached to scoop Isabella up, to do a tactical retreat, when he realized how stupid that was. 

He sighed, deciding that he might as well come clean.

“Isabella likes watching your press conferences.”

“What?” Ted grinned, his entire face lighting up. He turned off the stove, wiping his hands on the tea towel. “Is that true Miss Crimm?”

It was unfortunately very true, Isabella watching one too many press conferences with him, his little girl one day declaring that Teddy on TV was one of her favorite shows, and that she wanted to watch Ted talk about fishies again.

It had taken Trent forever to find the right bit, which was why he had started uploading Isabella’s favorites clips to a private Youtube account, but Ted didn’t have to know that-

“Yeah. Daddy has a playlist on Youtube.”

Trent briefly considered the ethics of taping Isabella’s lips shut, if his night on the floor could counterbalance him slapping a piece of gaffatape over her mouth, Isabella ratting him out without a care in the world. 

“I don’t-“ Trent wanted the earth to open up and swallow him, this whole thing utterly humiliating. “There is a playlist but it’s not, it’s a private profile, and I’m not a stalker- There’s a reason- Isabella likes the way you tell stories-“

“Aha?” Ted raised an eyebrow, his arms crossed and Isabella giggled, the little traitor abandoning her duvet and bear to put her arms around Trent’s neck, Trent hugging her and lifting her up, placing her on his hip. 

“I like the Pizza Hut story!”

“Do you now, Miss Crimm?”

“All of your press conferences are just out there, online,” Trent could feel his cheeks burning, this type of behavior way too weird, “I have simply edited them-“

“Wait, what do you mean the press conferences are online? Are all of them online?”

~~~

“I can’t believe I’m showing you these,” Trent groaned, but Ted was utterly delighted.

They had moved to the couch, Isabella insisting that Ted should carry her, Trent allowing it after taking Isabella’s temperature, which had made Ted so elated and happy he couldn’t help but shower Isabella in butterfly kisses.

That had apparently been a step too far though, Trent lecturing him about self preservation and germs and Richmond playing Manchester United. 

“Wow.” Keeley had always told Ted not to google himself, but it seemed like he should maybe have considered Youtubing. “So people watch these-“

“Some do.” Trent’s glasses had been pushed into his hair, his phone in his hand as he navigated through his app, the Pizza Hut story already playing, Ted noting with a smile that it had a whole bunch of views, Isabella clearly not lying when she said that she liked watching Teddy on TV.

“If all of them are online,” Ted was slowly stroking up and down Isabella’s arms, his daughter cuddled up on his lap, “does that mean you could find my first press conference?”

“Technically yes.” 

“Awh, that’s so romantic. The first time we met, preserved online for eternity, or until our tech overlords-“

Trent narrowed his eyes, but Ted could see that he was much more embarrassed than annoyed. 

“Sorry.” Ted could have let it go, the Ted on TV already telling a new story about that time he and his college team got stuck on the highway during a snowstorm.

It would have been the nice thing to do, to let it go, to return to his cooking, to let Trent’s embarrassment die down, but Ted wanted to watch the first time he met Trent.

“Can we watch it though? Please?”

“Are you sure?” Trent wrinkled his nose, “We do have company-“

“Isabella wants to watch it too, don’t you peachy pie?” Ted knew that it was unfair to join forces with Isabella, but he had made up his mind. “It’s a Teddy on TV you’ve never seen before?”

That got Isabella’s attention, her head snapping to the side. “Daddy. Are you keeping secrets?”

Ted nearly choked on a laughter, Isabella sounding completely serious and exactly like a Crimm with the level of accusation in her voice. 

“Don’t take that tone with me young lady.” Trent held up a finger, “and I haven’t kept secrets. I’ve simply elected not to-“

“Sounds like a secret to me.” Trent shot Ted a look that immediately made him shut up, though he couldn’t stop grinning.

“Teddy says a lot of silly things in it-“

“Oh I bet I do!” Ted whistled. “I mean, I had just come off of a transatlantic flight, and I’m pretty sure I hadn’t slept in a day or so-“

“That’s stupid.” Isabella looked up at Ted, the back of her head digging into his chest. “You should have gone to bed-“

“I should,” Ted smiled, “shouldn’t I? But maybe, if we watch it, it won’t happen again-“

“You two are intent on torturing me huh?” Trent looked between them, his reluctance finally crumbling. “Fine. Fine. Fine.” Trent groaned. “We’ll watch the damned-“ Trent started scrolling through his phone, Ted giving Isabella a very slow high five as to not disturb Trent now that they had finally gotten their way.

“There we go.” Trent pressed something on his phone, and the TV changed, Ted’s stomach doing a little flip as he saw Higgins on the screen.

“The new manager of AFC Richmond, Ted Lasso.”

“Holy heck-“ Ted watched as what could also be described as a blast from the past walked into the frame. “Look how tiny I am!”

It wasn’t the first thing Ted wanted to notice about himself, but it was glaringly obvious, Ted suddenly remembering how the whole Michelle situation had made him lose his appetite for weeks at a time, the khakis he had been wearing almost too big.

”Did not expect fizzy water there, sorry.”

Ted had little to no memory of the press conference, and, if he was being honest, his first full day in Richmond. He could remember glimpses here and there, Beard thankfully by his side through the entirety of it.

He remembered how tired he had been, how intimidating yet incredibly sad Rebecca had seemed. He remembered Roy fuming with unbridled rage, and Nate being so uncertain and insecure it was hanging around him like a black cloud.

Mostly, he remembered finally getting in contact with Michelle, and how awful it had felt when she had been unable to say ‘I love you’ back.

“Teddy?” Isabella looked up at him, her hands on his forearm. “Why do you say you don’t know football?”

“Well, that’s because I didn’t-“

Trent snorted, and Ted couldn’t help but smile, Isabella getting a tiny squeeze for her question. 

“You didn’t?”

“Nope. Usually, you gotta be qualified for a job, which is a good thing, but I was real lucky Rebecca gave me the coaching gig anyway, because sometimes, you take a chance on someone, and it works out.”

“Like how you came to give Daddy his Christmas kiss?”

“Kind of like that.” Ted kissed Isabella’s hair, his daughter accidentally reminding him of another trip from Kansas to London where he had been unable to sleep, Ted reading and rereading the Richmond Way while cursing himself for the fact that he hadn’t understood sooner for the entirety of the flight. 

“How about the fellow right there in the second row.”

Trent made an unhappy noise, and Ted reached out, grabbing his hands, Trent not only allowing it, but intertwining their fingers, Trent clearly kind of uncomfortable. 

”I like your glasses.”

Ted could unfortunately only see his own face, Sky Sports not caring about the journalists in the crowd, though they certainly should have. 

It was kind of romantic that one of the first things he had said to Trent was a compliment, Ted doing everything he could to recall what Trent had looked like that day, to remember what clothes he had worn, how his hair had looked. 

”Trent Crimm, the Independent.”

“Ooooooh.” Somehow, Ted finally understood why Trent had always said not only his own name, but also the newspaper he worked for, the puzzle pieces finally fitting, all of it coming together. “Wait, wait wait wait, did you say the ‘The Independent’ bit for TV?”

”I just want to make sure I have this right-“

“I thought you were joking around, doing a James Bond bit- Ouch!”

Trent had just dug a nail into Ted’s palm, his boyfriend already gently rubbing the mark.

“Focus.”

Isabella was completely captivated by the TV, Trent delivering the dressing down of a century. 

Ted had honestly blocked the majority of it out, but it was kind of fantastic to listen to Trent do what he did best, his critique delivered with a scathing sense of sarcasm and an angry bite, Ted a tiny bit grateful that he had been that sleep deprived while getting the full Trent Crimm treatment.

”Is this a fucking joke?”

“Daddy!” Isabella’s eyes widened, her little mouth hanging open. “That’s a swear!”

“It was a swearing moment.” Trent didn’t look at Ted, but Ted could see that he was pleased with himself.

“That was mean.” Isabella looked at him, clearly disapproving. “I’ll tell Mummy.”

“You do that Poppet,” Trent smiled, eyes sparkling with amusement, “Your mother is, however, already aware that I am a very mean person, so I don’t think you’ll get your desired result.”

Isabella huffed, turning her attention back to the TV, Ted fighting for his life on screen.

“You weren’t that mean.”

“Oh really?” Trent raised an eyebrow. “That’s the story you’re going with?”

“If it’s the story that’ll get me a kiss, then yes.”

“Ridiculous man.” Trent leaned over, about to give Ted his kiss, when Isabella squealed in delight, the Ted on TV just spitting water absolutely everywhere. 

~~~

“Are you sure,” Trent glanced over at Ted, his fingers running through his own hair, “that this is okay?”

Isabella had been fever free since before dinner, Ted serving all of them from a gigantic pot of his homemade chicken soup, Henry happily slurping down three entire portions. Trent had helped him with his homework, Henry spending the rest of the afternoon with an audiobook and his puzzle, half the table in the living room already taken up by it. 

“You kidding me?” Ted beamed, his boyfriend doing his own skincare for once, Ted dabbing on his eye cream. “Abso-freakin-lutely! I love it. I wish we’d do this every night.”

“You want Isabella in our bed every night? Please.” Trent rolled his eyes, Isabella already asleep in the middle of the bed, Trent a little worried how they’d all fit, since Isabella had a tendency to starfish unless someone stopped her.

“Lying isn’t a good look on your Theodore.” Trent filled his palm with another squirt of hair oil, the almond scent thick in the air.

“The only thing that could make this better,” Ted put the lid back on the creme, “is if Henry wanted in on it too, but I get that he’s a bit old for a puppy pile sleepover-“

“You’re impossible.” Trent smiled, cutting off Ted before he could go full blabber head, his heart aching with tender fondness, Ted an absolute miracle. 

Trent had no idea that he had acted downright cruel when he had banned Ted from Isabella’s sickbed, but apparently, he had been torturing Ted, Isabella and Ted practically glued together once Trent had allowed them to touch.

It had been extremely adorable, Trent managing to snap a picture of the two of them napping on the couch, Ted’s mouth opened as he snored loudly.

“I just want our little girl to be okay.”

“Our-“ Trent swallowed, eyes widening with the easy way Ted had just called Isabella theirs, like she was something they shared, like Ted considered her his too. “Did you mean-“

“Mean what?” Ted sounded as chipper as ever, but he was washing his hands, his attention not even on the life changing thing he had just said.

“Do you consider-” Trent almost didn’t dare say it, his stomach molten hot, “Nevermind.”

Trent looked down, his heart already breaking on the off chance that Ted had misspoken, that he hadn’t been serious, that this wasn’t-

“Trent?” Ted popped into Trent’s field of vision, Trent jumping in fright, Ted bent over the bathroom counter.

“Holy shit-“

“Sorry!” Ted held up his hands, his shoulder pressed to the counter, his upper body still on it, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to give you the spooks!”

“Fucking hell,” Trent put a hand on his heart, Ted actually managing to scare him. “What are you doing?”

“Well, you’re being weird, so I just wanted to check in?”

“Come here you complete psychopath.” Trent maneuvered Ted into an upright position, pulling him in for a hug, Trent’s arms around his middle, Ted doing the same to him, the two of them holding each other close.

Trent swallowed, hiding his face in Ted’s neck. 

He felt vulnerable and small, incapable, stupid and insecure, and he hated it, these feelings not ones he usually had to deal with around Ted.

“Did you mean it?” Trent wasn’t even aware he’d say the words until after they had left his lips, but they were out now, and he couldn’t take them back. “Do you think of Isabella as ours?”

“Of course I do.” Ted didn’t hesitate at all, the words leaving him without a second though. “You’re her Daddy, and Lilian is her Mummy, but she’s my daughter too and I love her, with my whole entire heart.”

“Ha…” Trent let out a little laugh, the conversation almost surreal, though he didn’t doubt for a single second that Ted was telling the truth, that he’d never lie about something this important. 

Trent pulled back, moving so he could look at Ted, their eyes meeting, Ted so open and honest and beautiful.

“You’re her Teddy.” Trent leaned in, carefully placing a kiss on Ted’s lips, his arms still around him. “Thank you.”

“I’m the lucky one.” Ted smiled, and Trent wanted to kiss him again, but he had something he needed to say first.

“I’m sorry, that I excluded you, that I didn’t take your feelings into consideration, that I just made a decision on all of our behalfs-” 

“You don’t gotta say all that-“

“I do-“ Trent swallowed, pushing through his own discomfort, since Ted deserved this apology, “you wanted to be involved, and I didn’t let you-“

“Trent…”

“I know I tend to get a bit…” Trent sighed, searching for a word that didn’t make him sound insane, “Intense, around Isabella. That I rarely think clearly and that it’s my way or-“

“You do tend to take the lead,” Ted smiled, “but I don’t think of that as a bad thing?”

“Maybe it is. I just… I worry if I’m doing a good enough job, and I didn’t want you to get sick, so I-“

“Trent,” Ted squeezed him, “you’re a fantastic Dad.”

“You actually mean that, don’t you?” Trent didn’t want to sound so full of disbelief, didn’t plan on sounding so accusatory, but more often than not, he felt like a failure of a parent.

Like he wasn’t doing enough, or that he was overcompensating, that he was too strict and too forgiving, that he didn’t love in the right way, that there was something fundamentally broken inside of him-

“I don’t just mean it, it’s a whole entire truth bomb,” Ted grinned, “and it’s about to make contact in five, four, three-“

“Stop that,” Trent laughed, his worries completely evaporated, Ted the weirdest person he knew, as well as his favorite human being in the whole entire world.

Besides their kids, of course.

Chapter Text

Ted yawned, Trent lying in his arms, his back pressed to Ted’s chest, Ted’s arm under Trent’s head, Isabella curled into a little ball on Trent’s side of the bed, Trent managing to get her somewhat contained while Ted had checked in on Henry.

Their boy had been asleep, but there was a stack of comics on the floor that hadn’t been there when Ted had tucked him in, Henry using the entirety of his latest Books & Quills allowance on something called Naruto.

Ted wasn’t a big reader, audiobooks and movies much more his speed, but he had made a mental note to at least check out the first volume, so he knew enough to follow along in case Henry ended up getting obsessed with the series.

He was just about to fall asleep, when he heard his name.

“Ted?” Trent was barely whispering. “Are you awake?”

“I’m right here.” Ted gave Trent a quick squeeze, mindful not to move the bed too much, even though Isabella was a very heavy sleeper.

“I…” Trent hesitated, “I want to say thank you, again.” Ted had to basically hold his breath to hear Trent. “You were incredibly kind earlier-“

“That ain’t no thang but a chicken wing mamacita,” Ted was about to kiss Trent’s hair, his already sleepy mind and body overcome by a wave of warmth at the memory of their bathroom talk, when Ted scoffed.

“Can you be serious, please?“ Ted paused, Trent’s voice carrying a level of gravity that told him this wasn’t a time for jokes, “I think I’m trying to open up to you?”

“You are?” Ted couldn’t help the awe that snuck into his tone, Ted just about ready to kick himself, but thankfully, Trent continued talking.

“If I tell you something, and it’s- It’s on the sad side, will you still be able to sleep?”

“Baby-“ Ted smiled, Trent’s concern for him beyond adorable.

“Give me an answer Ted.”

If anyone but Trent had said something like that, Ted’s brain would have gone straight into overdrive, Ted immediately expecting the worst, but this was Trent, his Trent, who didn’t do hidden agendas, who asked questions because he wanted answers and who Ted trusted completely.

“What type of sad are we talking?”

“Childhood sad?”

Ted suddenly felt wide awake, Trent never ever ever talking about his childhood. “Please.”

“Can you help me turn around?”

Ted pulled back slightly, giving Trent enough room to wiggle without waking Isabella, her steady snores a helpful reminder that she was asleep and that they could talk freely, as long as they kept their voices down.

“Hey.” Ted smiled, the two of them so close their noses were touching.

“When I- Was little… I…“ Trent swallowed, “What I said earlier, about me, overreacting, that’s because, whenever I was sick- It was never… Great, when I was a child…“

Ted was practically holding his breath, Trent clearly struggling to get his words out.

“I’m not sure if I can do this,” Trent sighed, a frustrated note in his voice, “can we just forget I ever said anything? Opening up is clearly overrated and uncomfortable, and something I’m incapable of and I-“

“Trent,” Ted whispered, “It’s me.”

Trent looked at him, or, Ted assumed he looked at him, the room too dark for him to truly tell.

“When my Mother was alive-“

Ted knew that Trent’s Mom had died when he was young, though he couldn’t remember the exact details, Trent telling him that she had passed away when Ted had shared about his own Dad back in September. 

He could recall something about it being an accident, and that horses were involved, but he had been exceptionally torn up on the anniversary of his Dad’s death last year, so it was all fuzzy around the edges.

“I think she cared, I’m sure she did, but, she was never particularly affectionate, so I was usually left in my room…”

“You were on your own?” Ted frowned, moving even closer to Trent, their bodies practically molded together.

“Lilian says I grew up a tolerated child, but I’ve always considered that to be a bit over dramatic. It was fine, and I was fine, it was just… Lonely.”

Ted swore he could feel his heart break, the idea of a tiny Trent feeling alone and abandoned almost unbearable.

“I had my nannies, and some of them were sweet. Paula made me this… That was my nanny when I was 8. I think she used whisked eggs?”

Ted knew that Trent had had nannies while growing up, Trent mentioning it before, but until now, Ted had assumed that it had been more of a babysitter situation, and not taking care of Trent full time. 

“It tasted a bit weird, so she always added honey, which was nice of her…”

“What about your Dad?”

“Ha,” Trent laughed, the idea apparently ridiculous.

Isabella moved, and they both froze, Ted actually holding his breath, Isabella thankfully settling down once more, her soft snores continuing.

“I’m sorry.” Trent whispered. “That was rude, I shouldn’t have laughed, it’s just- I’m not sure if my father has ever hugged me?”

“What?” That sounded insane, Isabella moving again, Ted cursing himself for how he had raised his voice, the two of them waiting. “Trent, what you’re saying sounds insane-“

“It’s who he is,” Trent shrugged, Ted feeling it because they were lying so close. “The day I left for Eton-“

“The boarding school?” Ted immediately felt stupid, regretting his words. 

He knew what Eton was, and he knew that Trent had gone to boarding school, but it had suddenly clicked into place in a whole new way, that Trent had probably left home at a very early age.

“There’s only really one Eton.” Ted could hear the smile in Trent’s voice, though he also sounded sad, “My father gave me a firm handshake, and had his secretary take me to school on my first day.”

“Seriously?” Ted hated that he had ever said that Trent’s Dad sounded like a cool guy, the fact that they had made the same joke sour instead of amusing now, Ted glad he had yet to meet the man. 

“Please don’t be sad.” Trent reached up, fingers stroking across Ted’s cheek.

“I’m not sad, I’m angry-“ Trent kissed the tip of Ted’s nose, stopping his rant before he could get going. 

“I…”

“You can’t change the past Ted,” Trent gently rubbed his thumb on Ted’s skin, “and I don’t need you to. I just wanted you to know because I love you.” 

~~~

“And what about the rest of the week?” Trent looked at Henry in the rearview mirror, the two of them alone in the car since Isabella had just been dropped off, Trent setting course towards Henry’s school.

“It’s all just ordinary stuff.” Henry had his phone in hand, his backpack down between his feet. Trent hadn’t taken him to school on Monday because Isabella was sick, Henry catching a ride with Penelope's Dad instead, but it was Tuesday now, and they were back on the routine.

Isabella first, Henry afterwards, just like they always did.

“Is that something you think, or is that something you know?” 

“That’s something-“ Henry paused, and then groaned, because it was absolutely something he thought, and not something he knew.

“I’ll double check.” Henry sighed, opening his school app. Henry was pretty sure none of the other kids in his class had parental access to the school app, but Trent had made Dad share his password with Henry, who had sworn on his lego collection that he’d keep his nose to himself and not read any messages that wasn’t his business.

“Thank you.”

Henry smiled, Trent refocusing on the road as Henry quickly typed out Dad’s email and his code, his class schedule popping up on screen.

Sometimes, it felt like a lot of responsibility, but Henry also liked being able to check his school things by himself, having that access and being able to find things without having to ask an adult making it a whole lot easier to live in two places.

“We’re let out early Friday-“

“Has Michelle told you when and where she’s picking you up yet?”

“I’m allowed to walk home by myself.” 

“You’re allowed to walk on Mom weeks if you’re on a call with a trusted adult,” 

Henry almost huffed, the rule stupid, especially because he walked by himself and took the bus all on his own all the time when he was at Dad’s.

“I hate that rule.”

“That doesn’t mean it stops being in effect.” Trent looked at Henry in the rearview mirror, a smile on his face. “Is there anything in there I need to help you with? Half-term is happening soon.”

“Yeah.” Henry nodded. He’d spend the next week with Mom, and then he’d go to Dad’s Friday, Saturday, Sunday without Isabella for once since she was in Norway. On the following Monday, he’d get dropped off at Mom’s though, since she had half-term off as well, and Henry had spent most of his Christmas break with Dad and Trent.

“Everything looks all normal…” Henry scrolled through the messages, Trent already pretty updated on everything that was going on. “Mrs Huckston sent out a message about this field trip we’re going on in March.”

“Which day, and do you need to bring anything?”

“One second,” Henry held up his fingers, counting to figure out if it’d happen on a Mom week, or a Dad week. “It’s on a Dad Wednesday. It says we have to bring money for the entry fee, lunch, our raincoats-“

“Can you screenshot and send it to me?” 

“Smart thinking Abe Lincoln!” Henry screenshotted the messages, and texted them to Trent, just as Trent put his blinker on and pulled into their regular sidestreet, getting dropped off at the gate beyond embarrassing when you were in Secondary school, which Trent thankfully understood without Henry having to explain it.

“Thanks Trent!” Henry grabbed his backpack, ready to sprint so he could chat to Jennifer before class started, but Trent had twisted around in his seat.

“Henry, before you go-“ Trent looked slightly uncomfortable, and Henry felt his stomach drop, though he hadn’t done anything bad, “I just want to say thank you.”

“What?” Henry had his hand on the door handle, “Why?”

“I know Isabella has gotten a lot of attention these past few days-” Trent pushed his glasses into his hair.

“I don’t mind that,” Henry shrugged, “I mean, she’s been sick and all.” 

“She has, but that doesn’t mean that you didn’t do a good job being considerate, and I really appreciate that.” 

“You sound like Dad.” Henry grinned, and Trent smiled back at him, swatting at his shoulder. 

“Get the fuck out of my car.”

~~~

Michelle pressed her phone to her ear, her hand shaking as she waited for Ted to answer her call.

“Come on,” Michelle whispered under her breath, “pick up. Pick up, pick up, pick up.”

This was her third call in a row, but she refused to give in, refused to give up, the copy room she was hiding in not big enough for her to move around, even though she desperately wanted to pace, Michelle leaning up against a wall of shelves.

She knew Ted never truly abandoned his phone unless he was at a match, so she just had to be insistent enough, had to-

“Michelle!” Ted’s voice rang out, “Hi, what’s-“

“I-“ Michelle hissed, molten hot lava in her stomach, “cannot believe you!”

Michelle had been in the teachers lounge, making herself a cup of tea, when Derrick the PE teacher slid in next to her and started talking about soccer. 

It was a regular occurrence, and Michelle didn’t usually mind Derrick's monologues, she actually found them kind of charming most of the time, but today, Derrick had given her a piece of information that had made her blood boil.

“… Hello? Is everything-”

“Don’t hello me.” Michelle cut Ted off, not caring that she was being rude. “Why was Henry in Birmingham with you Saturday?”

Michelle had hoped, had prayed that Derrick had been mistaken, her quick search unfortunately confirming the fact that he was telling the truth.

Somehow, some way, her ex husband had thought that it was okay for him to take her son on a 3 hour trip, to another city, without telling her, and not only that, he had also put him in a seat that were guaranteed to show up on TV, but the final stab in the back, was the fact that no one had thought to tell her at all, Michelle forced to find out from a coworker, which was downright humiliating.

“Oh?” Ted sounded a little confused, “Well, Richmond played Aston Villa-“

“I know that.” Michelle unfortunately had Richmonds schedule memorised, Henry completely invested in the team, Michelle dutifully spending her precious Saturdays at the stadium or in front of the TV to make Henry happy. “Why would you take Henry with you to Birmingham without telling me? And why did you even take him in the first place?!”

“Right.” Ted clicked his tongue. “Trent kind of figured out that Henry was upset about me leaving for the entirety of Saturday because he missed me-“

Michelle had to physically bite her tongue to not tell Ted that he was an idiot, that he was-

“So… I forgot? I guess?”

“You forgot?” Michelle thought she had already hit her limit, that it’d be impossible to get even more upset, but Ted had found a way. “You forgot to tell your son's mother that you took her child to another city? That’s not okay!”

”It’s not?”

“And to top it all off, you decided to have him on the field!”

“It’s actually a pitch-“ Ted tried to sound chipper, and Michelle was glad that they weren’t in the same room, Ted’s fake happy Please Don’t Make Me Deal With Anything Difficult bullshit really grinding her gears.

“I had to find out he went from a coworker! Who saw him on TV! My kid is on national, no, international, TV Ted!” Michelle pushed away from the shelves, standing upright. It was a gamble to raise her voice, but the copy room was basically soundproof, Henrietta from admin sharing the little tidbit with her at the Christmas party since Phil the janitor had been eyeing her up, Michelle allowing him to get to second base.

He had been a decent kisser, but she had also avoided him, Michelle truly not ready to begin anything new.

“Yeah, that’s-“ Ted clicked his tongue, ”That doesn’t sound like it was any fun, but I promise, he was totally fine. He wasn’t alone for a single second, and you know how much the team loves him. He was perfectly safe-“

“That’s not why I’m upset Ted!”

“I’m sorry?” Michelle wanted to accept the apology, but she knew that Ted didn’t mean it, that he only said it because she was upset, that he desperately wanted her to stop being angry with him, "I’m sorry, can we please talk about this instead of raising our voices?"

“No. Ted.” Michelle heard Ted’s sharp intake of breath, her stomach clenching, but she refused to back down. “We need to talk about this.”

“Listen, Michelle, I’m at work, can’t -“

“No. No, we’re doing this now, because if we don’t, you’ll run away!”

“I’m sorry. I- what can I do to make it up to you? Tell me what to do-”

“How about this never happens ever again? How about you remember me-“

“I remember you-“

“No you don’t!” Michelle was practically shaking with anger, “I spent so much time, I put in so much effort, trying to keep you involved while Henry and I still lived in Kansas, to keep you in the loop, to let you be his Dad. I was killing myself keeping you informed, and you can’t even do the basics when we live in the same city. You don’t care-“

“Hey!” Ted sounded hurt and confused, “I care, I just wasn’t, I didn’t know- I think we need to calm down-“

“Don’t tell me to calm down!”

“We don’t have to fight,” Ted was practically begging now, ”I don’t want to fight with you Chelle-“

“Well maybe, Theodore-“ Michelle made sure to let Ted hear that she used his full legal name, to remind him that she wasn’t playing his games, “I want to fight with you, maybe, you’re being inconsiderate and rude!”

“Me?” There was genuine disbelief in Ted’s tone. “I’m inconsiderate? That’s rich. Please, let’s just-“

“No! You don’t get to dismiss my feelings!”

“Fuck you.”

“What did you just say?” Michelle couldn’t believe that Ted had just said that, that he spoke to her like that.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that, thank you for all the great things you do for Henry, thank you for the ways you love him, and fuck you for lecturing me like this. You’re telling me I’m being inconsiderate? You want to talk about rude and hurtful and mean? Because I think you’re being all of those things, and there’s no therapist to agree with everything you say, to tell me everything is all my fault, and now that we’re on the topic, fuck you for what you did with Doctor Jacob-“

“I don’t want to talk about Jake.” Michelle hadn’t felt anything beside indignation and anger since before Ted had picked up the phone, but now, she was overcome with embarrassment.

The whole Jake thing had been such a big mistake, Michelle so stupid, Jake obviously manipulating her in hindsight, the fact that she had ever fallen for his song and dance, that she had believed his flattery and that she had trusted him beyond humiliating.

“He was around our son Michelle-“

“I already apologized for that-“ Michelle hated how small she felt, how even the thought of Jake filled her with shame and dread, her relationship with him one of the biggest mistakes she ever made.

She should have known, should have trusted her gut, should have left the moment she saw how much Henry didn’t like him, should have figured out that a therapist should never tell a client that they were special, that their chemistry was unique, that she was one of the most beautiful souls Jake had ever met-

“No, no you didn’t, actually.” Ted’s voice had a steel tone to it, a hardness Michelle couldn’t recognize, “You’ve never once said sorry about dating our marriage counselor! And you never apologized for hiding it from me.”

“We were divorced.” Michelle knew she was grasping at straws, but the conversation had gotten away from her, Ted attacking her in a way she’d never experienced before. “I never, not while we were married-“

But that wasn’t the entirety of the truth, was it? 

Michelle knew that Jake had pushed for England, and she had agreed that Ted should go, the money Rebecca had offered a chance to change their lives, Ted paying off all of their debt in a single season.

It was so wrong of her, so so so wrong, but maybe, if Ted hadn’t overcorrected, if Jake hadn’t been there to fan the flame, if Michelle hadn’t felt so trapped and desperate, they could have done something else.

Ted could have stayed with Beard for a while, or she could have taken a sabbatical from work and said screw it to the debt from the IVF and gone on that trip to Paris. 

She could have taken up pottery or joined a hiking group or just-

If Ted had stayed-

“Well, we’re divorced now too.”

Michelle didn’t want to cry, but hearing Ted say that, the harshness of his tone, the lack of warmth.

All of it was heartbreaking.

Especially when Michelle missed her best friend.

“I took Henry to Birmingham, and maybe I should’ve told you. I didn’t mean to exclude you, but it’s my week, and I made a decision just like you do when it’s your week!”

Michelle nodded, almost calming down, but then, Ted stabbed her in the back once more, the knife going in deep.

“You don’t hear me complaining-“

“Complaining? You think I’m complaining?”

The fire was back, and it was threatening to burn her alive.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Maybe you think I’m complaining, because you’re too busy to be there for your family!”

“Wow- I… You think-” Ted sounded impossibly small, and Michelle hated that she had hurt him, but they had to talk about this, even if she had to act like a bitch.

“You’re not there for me, and you’re certainly not there for Henry-“

“Michelle-“

“Do you have any idea what his January was like? Do you know how much he missed you? It was a nightmare-“

Henry had been so sad, and no matter what Michelle and done, it hadn’t helped, the experience so like how it had been back in Kansas right after the divorce, Henry a kid who retreated into himself, who pulled away, and Ted hadn’t reached out to her to talk about it once.

“And now, you’re here, being the fun parent who takes him on trips and gives him everything he wants-“

“I don’t- I- I-“

“But that’s how you act. You’re just- perfect, all the time!”

Michelle had no idea how Ted did it, nothing truly important ever slipping through the cracks, not even the stuff he used to struggle with back in Kansas, and it was infuriating, because it made Michelle feel like shit.

And it made her act like a shit, a shit who lashed out, who was being cruel to one of the nicest people she knew, Ted weirdly quiet, the silence forcing her to sit with her words, to realise how unfair she was being.

How hurt people hurt people, and Michelle was deeply wounded.

“Ted? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said it like that.” Michelle tried to take a deep breath, tried to calm down, her words spoken in anger and resentment, which wasn’t fair, or even the truth.

“You’re not just a fun parent. That was- you make it so hard sometimes-“

Michelle paused, offering Ted a chance to say something, but all she could hear was the sound of his breathing.

“Ted, please, we need to talk about this-“

She gave him a beat, but Ted didn’t jump in, Michelle wondering if he was giving her the cold shoulder, if this was some sort of strange punishment, but Ted wasn’t like that.

“Listen. I just- I don’t want to be the bad guy, but you make me feel like I’m not a good Mom. You do all these things for Henry, and I end up looking like an asshole.”

Michelle paused again, but there was still no reply, the sound of Ted’s breathing gone too.

“Ted? This isn’t funny. Are you even there? Ted, are you okay? Please, say some-“

Michelle got cut off, her eyes widening when she looked at her phone, Ted hanging up on her. 

~~~

“There we go,” Rebecca held Ted, her fingers slowly petting the short hair at the nape of his neck, Ted drenched in sweat but she didn’t care. “You’re okay.”

Ted nodded, his entire body curled into Rebeccas, her arms around him.

Rebecca had been pulled from a meeting by Roy who had shouted up the stairs, yelling for her to come quick, Rebecca immediately apologizing while getting up to leave, Roy not the kind of person who’d pull a stupid prank, and it had turned out he had been exactly right to call on her.

Roy had apparently walked into his office, and found Ted heaving and hiding behind his desk. 

Beard had been fetched too, though he had quickly left again to give them privacy and to keep everyone else away.

“You’re okay.”

Beard had been able to tell Rebecca that Ted had left the late morning training to take a phone call, Michelle calling, but she didn’t have any more information than that, and now wasn’t the time to force Ted to talk.

“There we go.” 

Ted had stopped crying, but Rebecca didn’t dare leave him alone, didn’t dare to pull away. Roy had thankfully brought her a bottles of water and a box of tissues before he had grabbed his computer and buggered off, Roy mindful enough to close and lock the door behind him.

“Deep breaths.” Rebecca took a tissue, sincerily hoping that this wasn’t the cum cleanup ones, Roy and Jamie the type of idiots that insisted on shagging at work. “Let me-“

“No-“

“Yes.” Rebecca dried Ted’s tears, getting a new tissue and holding it to Ted’s nose, Ted raising an eyebrow before blowing. “Good job.”

“No,” Ted shook his head, “not good job at all, I can’t believe I had another panic attack-“

“Here.” Rebecca released Ted, though she kept him close, uncapping the waterbottle. “Drink this.”

“I don’t want fizzies.”

Rebecca smiled, Ted pouting like little child, his panic attacks always leaving him raw and exposed.

“I promise you that it’s regular old water Ted.”

“Sure…” Ted took a tentitative sip, Rebecca smiling at his reluctance, Ted still testing any and all water she gave him after The Big Spit. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

“Not really.” Ted didn’t look at her, and Rebecca could push, but she knew what it felt like to not be ready to talk.

“Do you want me to call Trent?” Rebecca knew that she could do a decent job calming Ted down, that she was more than adequate and that Ted trusted her, but she wasn’t Trent, “He can come pick you up-“

“No. No, please-“ Ted shook his head. “Don’t- I want, I need- I’ll finish this,” Ted wiggled his bottle, “hit the shower, and I’ll bounce back before lunchtime. I won’t let you or the team down Boss.”

“Ted-“ Rebecca knew that they were playing Manchester United on Saturday, that beating them at home would mean a lot to the fans, but Richmond was a club that cared about it’s staff, and Rebecca really cared about Ted. “You don’t have to do that, no one expect you to bounce back”

“But I do.” Ted looked at her, their eyes meeting. “I need to do this.”

Chapter Text

“There.” Trent put Isabella’s cup down, his daughter sat up at the kitchen island, Isabella drawing something that could possibly be a bird, or a gown, or a fluffy dog.

“Thank you Daddy.” Isabella smiled, her hair somehow still in the long braids and bows Ted had put it into that morning, Isabella convinced that she had to look extra cute since she had missed out on school Monday.

“You’re welcome, poppet.”

Trent had been about to start on Henry’s after school sandwich, when Isabella had come into the kitchen and declared that she had watched everything on the TV while sick and that she was bored, Trent digging out her craft box and setting her up where he could see her.

“Can I have fruit please?”

“You want fruit?” Trent didn’t mean to sound so cautious, but Isabella had a tendency to request elaborate snacks or meticulously prepared meals, and then refuse them, Trent still reeling from January, his patience for child sized nonsense barely recovered. 

“Mmh.” Isabella nodded, her attention on filling the paper with purple squiggles. “I want strawberries, and oranges, and grapes-“

“Well, how about we start with the orange, and then see if you’re still interested?”

Isabella didn’t reply, and Trent smiled as he walked over to the fruit basket, grabbing a plate on the way, an orange thankfully right on top. 

He hated peeling them, bits always sticking to his fingernails, but oranges were something Isabella reliably ate, Trent making a note to himself to ask Ted if he was doing a top up shop anytime soon and if he’d please remember to get oranges and clementines.

Not that Trent couldn’t grab a bag of oranges himself, but he wasn’t going to bother if he’d have a delivery man knocking tomorrow anyway, Ted thankfully back on grocery duties.

Which was a lifesaver for Trent’s sanity, as well as his wallet. 

Trent was down to about 100 pounds, but he was going to get paid for last week's recording any day now, Trent expecting a payout of around 1.500 pounds for his three days of work on a 15 hour audiobook.

It wasn’t amazing, but it was decent, the £1.500 thankfully enough to keep him from truly embarrassing himself financially, but he was glad he had another handful of recording sessions coming up.

He got the peel off in one large piece, but he unfortunately wasn’t done, Isabella refusing to eat oranges if any of the pith stayed on.

Trent had planned on swinging by Lilian’s gallery to drop off Isabella's passport, but as he had started to go through his important documents folder after dropping off the kids, he had stumbled upon the deed to the house, Trent remembering the promise he had made to himself back in November.

He wasn’t going to just spring anything on Ted, but Trent wanted to open the conversation about Ted having equal ownership of the house, Trent willing to offer Ted an opportunity to invest in their home, if he wanted to of course.

When Ted had moved in back in January, they had sort of skipped the whole boundaries and expectations thing, Trent so overwhelmed by the fact that Ted was there, that he had come back for him, that he had sort of just told Ted to please stay, Ted somehow moving from Kansas and directly into Trent’s bedroom.

Which was amazing, and fantastic, and a dream come true, but also not something he had ever expected to actually happen.

Trent finally got the last bit of white off the orange, quickly breaking it apart and plating it up, serving the fruit to his daughter.

“Bon appétit mon chéri.”

“I’m not a chéri,” Isabella reached out, snatching up an orange slice, her picture probably a dress now that Trent got a second look at it, “I’m Isabella.” 

“That you are.” Trent smiled since he was finally able to get started on Henry’s sandwich as soon as he washed his hands.

It was nothing short of a miracle that his relationship with Ted had worked out so far, Trent often feeling like he and Ted had to be moving too fast, that anyone from the outside would think they were going too fast, but Trent wanted Ted in his space, wanted him around, needed the life and joy and warmth Ted brought with him everywhere the same way he needed air.

Trent opened the fridge, grabbing the ingredients for Henry’s sandwich, today’s menu a triple cheese with mayo and lettuce.

If Ted and Trent had decided to move in together in a more normal manner, their conversation about bills and finances might have consisted of more than Ted noticing that February had rolled around, and asking Trent how much money he should wire him for his half of the bills.

Trent had been so flabbergasted that he had just given Ted an estimate, Ted happily setting up an automatic transfer before Trent had had time to go over his panicked maths, and what shitty maths it had turned out to be.

Ted contributed to heat and water and electricity and council tax, but Trent had forgotten to consider things like internet and bin collection and the TV license and street parking and cable and so many other teeny tiny things that when he had realised, it had felt too petty to ask for those bills to be split evenly too.

Especially the street parking, Trent’s choice to have a car not really one that Ted had had any say in.

Maybe he’d just keep quiet about that particular expense during their renegotiation, and continue to pay for it by himself, asking Ted to split the monthly parking fee filling Trent with a nausea he didn’t want to dwell on.

Trent spread a thin layer of mayo on a piece of sourdough, trying to decide if he should put some Monster Munch on Henry’s plate, or if it’d be better to go for a handful of plain crisps, when he heard the front door open and close.

He looked at the clock, eyes narrowing, Henry’s bus not supposed to arrive yet.

“Hello?” Trent called out, hoping everything was okay, his phone lying on the kitchen island, screen up and ringer on. “Henry? Is that-“

“Teddy!” 

~~~

Ted couldn’t sleep.

Which wasn’t exactly a new experience for him. 

He had spent many a sleepless night, lying awake, his brain running overtime, his chest tight with anxiety, his body unable to find any rest.

What Ted wasn’t used to, was feeling like this while Trent was lying next to him, fast asleep, his head on his shoulder.

He couldn’t believe that he had had yet another panic attack at work, Ted so ashamed of it that he could feel his insides withering around.

It was only the sound of Trent’s soft breathes that had kept Ted from freaking out completely, the weight of Trent halfway on top of him grounding and calming enough that he could almost keep his brain in check.

Michelle had called and then called again and again, Ted slipping into Roy’s empty office for a sense of privacy, their conversation going wrong from the start.

Ted hated that his body and brain had betrayed him, his hands shaking so badly he had to put Michelle on speakerphone, his ears ringing, focusing on the conversation close to impossible.

He remembered being angry, and hurt, and confused, his vision blacking out when Michelle had accused him of being a bad parent, when she had told him that he was failing Henry, that he was a selfish, egotistical-

Ted bit his tongue, hard, turning his head so he could bury his nose in Trent’s hair.

He closed his eyes, breathing in, Trent smelling like almonds and honey but most importantly himself.

Ted had somehow managed to get through the day after Rebecca had literally picked him off of the floor, Ted responding to Michelle’s texts that he was okay, and that he’d get back to her.

Beard had looked at him, asking without words if he wanted to go get a pint, but Ted had shook his head, since he just needed to get home.

He had hoped he’d be able to hold it together, but as soon as he stepped into the kitchen, as soon as he saw Trent, he was cracked wide open once more, a single look all it took for Ted’s defenses to crumble. 

Trent had reacted instantly, stalking across the kitchen and pulling him into a firm embrace, Ted overcome by a wave of shame as he barely managed not to fall apart in his boyfriend's arms.

Isabella had come over, his little girl obviously worried, so Ted had picked her up, promising her that he was okay but that he was just having a bad day, Henry coming home from school in the middle of the chaos.

With Henry there, Ted had succeeded in flipping into Dad mode, Trent taking control of the situation and serving everyone after school and work snacks, Ted and Henry sharing a sandwich, Ted finding a sense of zen as he ate grape after grape and listened to Henry talk about the Spanish Inquisition.

Ted pressed a soft kiss to Trent’s hair, taking another deep breath in, closing his eyes as he tried to stay in the moment.

Tried to be in the here and now.

He had a whole toolbox of tricks and tips, and in theory, he was more than capable of managing his anxiety, but February had been rough for him so far, his mental state as unstable as a Bambi on ice.

Ted usually preached to his players and his peers that it was important to be kind to oneself, that you should give yourself grace, but it was unacceptable for him to have two panic attacks in a week, and Ted needed help.

He had no idea how tomorrow Ted would feel about it, but he moved, attempting not to wake Trent as he grabbed his phone from the nightstand. The screen was awfully bright in their dark bedroom, Ted turning it down as far as he could, though it didn’t help much.

He opened his email, ignoring the countless unread ones, Ted composing a quick message to Doctor Midfield, asking for a meeting as soon as he could fit him in

It was bareboned and frantic, but Ted didn’t have a whole lot of politeness left in him, the energy to crack a joke or crank up the charm long gone.

He didn’t even have the space in his calendar for a therapy session, but this was affecting his family, those closest to him suffering because of him.

“Ted?” 

Ted froze in place, cursing himself as it seemed like Trent had woken up, the light from the phone apparently enough to pull him from his sleep.

“Hey sweetheart.” Ted put his phone away, Trent mumbling against his shoulder.

“Are you-“

“I’m okay, I’m sorry if I disturbed you,” Ted kept his voice low and warm, “You should go back to sleep.”

“Mmh, okay.” Trent crawled closer, burrowing down, a leg thrown over Ted’s body.

“Do you need any-“

“Tell me a story.”

“A story?” Trent smiled, Trent grambling and grumpy, though still drowst even though Ted was confident he could lull him back to sleep.

“Yes. A good one.”

“Alright.” Ted put a hand in Trent’s hair, petting him slowly, Trent soft and sweet in his arms. “Well, once upon a time, there was a tiny little bug, who went on a walk-“

~~~

Beard had his arms crossed and his sunglasses on, even though the sky was grey, the weather overcast and chilly.

His attention was focused on the pitch, the squad running a 4-4-2 with Jamie and Dani on opposing teams. 

It was a potentially dangerous move, but Beard had promised that the winning team of today’s scrimmage would get playlist privileges for their next celebratory bus ride.

The idea had come to him as an attempt to distract the players from the fact that Ted wasn’t there, Ted texting him that he’d be late since he had a therapist session, Beard responding with a triple thumbs up and then two triple hearts.

Jane would get annoyed by it the next time she went through his texts since she still felt threatened by their bond, but Beard refused to excuse or minimize his relationship with Ted or change his behavior.

Ted was too important, and Jane would just have to deal with that, Beard not budging even though she had destroyed his four favorite axes the last time he had sent Ted a heart. 

“Isaac! Eyes behind you!”

They were playing Manchester United on Saturday, and they were playing them at home which was supposed to be a huge advantage, but whenever they were up against bigger legacy clubs, Beard had seen a tendency from the squad to deliver their solid performances as the visiting team.

Which could be a bit of a problem.

It was never a good idea to disappoint the fans, though Richmonds supporters tended to stick by them in thick and thin.

Thankfully, Jamie was still on his Haaland kick, their star striker telling everyone he was using Manchester United as a warmup for Manchester City, who they’d be playing on their pitch at the end of February.

“Come on!” Travis yelled, his co-coach actually out on the pitch himself, running amongst the players, “Jan! Get it together! Do that- No! Bumbercatch!” Beard heard a whistle. “Everybody! Ten steps back! We’re doing this again! Run it right! Robin! Great aggression!”

Their new players weren’t the only aggressive ones, Beard nearly giving Travis a prison style smackdown when he had rolled his eyes about Ted coming in late.

He had held back, though it would have been beyond satisfying to just smash into Travis tender little forehead, but no one besides Beard, Roy and Rebecca knew that Ted had had a panic attack yesterday, Ted asking him if he’d please keep quiet about it.

Beard would always listen to Ted, and he wanted to respect his wishes, but you’d have to be blind not to realise that Ted was spreading himself thin, and that January had been a lot harder on him than anyone had expected.

He had no idea if it was the right choice, but Beard had texted Higgins, asking him if they could have a lunch meeting, because something had to give, and Beard refused to let it be Ted.

~~~

“I was very-” Doctor Midfield sat down, a kind smile on his face, a glass of water in one hand, and a cup of tea in the other, “Pleasantly surprised to hear from you Ted, and so soon after our last session too.”

He put the glass down in front of Ted, who was once again caught on the world's most uncomfortable couch, his stomach tight.

“Yeah, well…” Ted knew he wasn’t exactly an exemplary student when it came to actually showing up for his therapy session, but he had been putting in an effort to attend, Ted figuring out that this whole therapy thing was a whole lot easier for him if it happened over the phone.

It probably wasn’t the smartest thing to be walking around in public and talk about his problems, when he was fairly well known in and around Richmond, but Ted had been able to somewhat reliably make their sessions if he took the long road to work, walking and talking making the whole thing a lot less awful.

“I’m very happy you’re here Ted.” Doctor Midfield took a sip of his tea, and Ted liked that he hadn’t opened his notebook, that it was still lying on the table, a tiny bit of Ted’s discomfort easing. 

“Thanks Doc…” Ted didn’t look directly at Doctor Midfield, focusing on swishing the water around in his glass.

The silence grew, and Ted was once again hit with the feeling that Doctor Midfield was waiting him out, that he was being patient on purpose, that these long stretches of nothingness were a deliberate choice.

Thankfully, it didn’t last forever, Doctor Midfield taking a long and slow sip of his tea.

“Is it wrong of me to assume that your email is because you’re having a specific issue Ted?”

“I-“ Ted nodded, the words stuck in his throat. He could feel how sweaty his palms were, and he wiped them on his pants. “I-“

Ted hated how he so often couldn’t keep his gob shut, and then, when he needed it most, Doctor Midfield there to help him, he had to struggle with each and every word.

“I've been… I have…” Ted swallowed, fingers curling into the fabric of his pants. “I’ve been having panic attacks.”

“As in more than one?”

“Mmh.” Ted nodded, “It’s happened two times this week Doc, and I don’t usually mind a rerun, but it’s getting a little excessive.”

And bloody frustrating, the English turn of phrase the only way to refer to the current situation, Ted beyond fed up with his stupid brain and its insistence on complicating his already complicated life. 

“Can you tell me about your triggers?”

“Right. Right right right.” Ted swallowed, his stomach as wiggly as a can of worms, “Is there like, an option where I don’t have to do that?” Ted had never understood this bit of therapy, talking about his triggers a surefire way to, well, get triggered. 

“We can absolutely sit here and do nothing,” Doctor Midfield put his mug down, “but that’s not why we’re doing this, is it?”

“No…” Ted shook his head, fingers tightening on his thigh.

“I think you want to feel better, and I think that you want to put in the work so that you can keep moving on the road towards recovery.”

“You think I can get cured?” Ted knew anxiety wasn’t exactly something that had a cure, but he couldn’t help but get his hopes up.

“I think you can learn to make peace with your brain, if you use the correct tools and you dedicate yourself.”

“Right…” Ted swallowed the bitter disappointment, that reply not what he wanted to hear at all, “It’s, I think- I wrote the email cause-“

Ted recalled how he had felt last night, how he had been unable to sleep even though Trent was right there next to him, Trent usually the perfect off-button for his stupid brain.

He needed help, even if he didn’t want it, even if everything inside of him begged him to handle it himself, to pretend that everything was fine, to smooth over the uncomfortable bits and hide his feelings away.

Henry didn’t deserve that though, and since Ted needed help, he’d have to ask for it, because his son deserved a Dad he could rely on. 

“I’m worried that I…. That I’m not a… That I’m not doing a good enough job as a parent-“

Ted had to take a moment to sit with that statement, acknowledge that it was something he had just said, that it was…

“Why would you say that Ted?”

“I’ve been busy, real busy, and I-“ Ted took a deep breath. “I’m scared I’m letting my little boy down.”

Ted started crying, silent tears running down his face, his heart a giant ache, Ted overcome with emotion.

“I’m so scared that I’m failing him, that I’m destroying him, infecting with the worst parts of me, that I’m too much and not enough and-“

Ted felt his voice crack, even more tears leaving him, Doctor Midfield thankfully not offering him a tissue. 

It was such a weird boundary to have, but Ted had managed to get out during one of their first sessions that a box of tissues made him uncomfortable, that the expectation of vulnerability made all of his defenses come up.

“My ex wife said, when she called, I-“ Ted breathed through his nose, the memory of Michelle filling him with dread. “She- She told me I-“

The phone call had been such a mess, and he hadn’t gotten back to her yet, but what was he supposed to say? What was he supposed to do? 

“You’re safe here Ted.”

“Thanks Doc…” Ted reached into his pocket, fetching his handkerchief. It was a weird thing to carry around, but he liked having it, liked the feeling of carrying it around in his pocket.

“I’m not too sure on what Michelle said, exactly,” Ted dried his eyes, trying to get himself back under control, “I sorta blacked out.”

“What do you recall?”

“Michelle called, already as buzzed off as a bee in a bonnet.” Ted sighed, Michelle’s anger still so uncomfortable to him, her rage something he barely knew how to handle, even when they were married.

“I had brought our boy with me to Birmingham, and I didn’t tell her about it, but I wasn’t aware- I didn’t do it to be a dingbat, I just…”

Ted tried, he really tried, to recall Michelle’s words, but he hadn’t been able to hear her because of the ringing in his ears. 

“She thinks I’m a bad Dad, and I don’t- I don’t know how to handle all of the… The shame, and the grief, and the-“

“Do you think you’re a bad father?”

If you had asked Ted last year, he would say that he did the best he could, that he was blessed with a fantastic little boy, that Henry was utterly perfect in every way and that Ted liked to think that he was raising him right.

Now, however?

“I don’t know…”

“How about we take a moment, and then we’ll spend the rest of our session separating emotion and facts and see if we can’t make some sense of the jumble in your head.”

~~~

“Are you,” Trent turned his chair, angling it towards Lilian who was leaning against her desk, her arms crossed, “absolutely sure you want me involved in this?” 

Trent had swung by Lilian’s gallery to drop off Isabella’s passport, Trent fully expecting that Lilian would be too busy for anything more than a quick acknowledgement of his presence, but instead of a brief nod and instructions to leave the passport at the front desk, Trent had gotten dragged off by his elbow.

“Please Trent.” Lilian seemed genuinely distressed, and Trent mentally rearranged his schedule for the day, a sigh leaving him as he held out his hand.

“I’m already regretting it.”

“Thank you.” Lilian gave him her phone, Trent putting in Lilian’s pin, his ex wife still using the same code she had when they were married.

“So, what texts am I reading?” Trent looked up at Lilian, who wrinkled her nose, her lip between her teeth.

“Do you have to do that?”

“I need to know what I’m working with-“ Trent pushed his glasses into his hair, opening up her messages app, “You should just be grateful I’m even considering ghost writing this breakup text at all.” 

“He’s third from the top.”

“There we go.” Trent smiled, padding Lillian’s knee as he clicked on the conversation and scrolled to the back. 

“And it’s not a breakup text Trent,” Lilian scoffed, “it’s a dignified response to unacceptable behavior.”

“So a breakup text.” The conversation was nothing special, and Lilian hadn’t deviated far from her usual way of writing, Trent flexing his fingers.

It had been a while since he had last done it, but he could do a decent Lilian Crimm, Trent often stepping in and handling Lilian’s personal emails and texts when they were married. 

“He asked me if I wanted to do anal-“ Lilian nearly whispered the word, “on our fifth date.”

Trent knew he shouldn’t laugh, and he wouldn’t, but it was still as funny the second time, as the first time he heard it.

He had no idea who this Harry fellow actually was, Trent already writing out the text, but if he had had any intention of holding onto a woman like Lilian, he had fumbled, and fumbled hard.

“Who does that after a Tuesday date on the tennis court?”

Apparently someone named Harry.

“You do look fantastic in whites.” Lilian had thankfully abandoned all hopes of them playing doubles early into their relationship, Trent an absolute joke when it came to any kind of sport.

“I know.” Lilian sighed, and Trent smiled. He was gay, no doubt about it, but Lilian had always been beautiful out on the court in the tight tops and short skirts, her brown hair usually up in a ponytail that swished around whenever she hit the ball.

“He really should have saved the anal talk for an anniversary conversation.” Trent pressed send on the text, ‘Lilian’ politely but clearly and calmly telling Harry that she never wanted to see him again.

“Urgh!” Lilian slapped his shoulder, “Talk a long walk on a short pier.”

“Ow,” Trent grinned, Lilian’s annoyance and outrage still something he deeply adored. 

He wanted to keep teasing, but it was clear that Lilian was actually hurt, her beautiful features pinched tight, her eyes dark.

“Oh duckling.” Trent abandoned her phone, reaching out to take her hands. “I’m sorry your efforts were in vain.”

Lilian had been hesitant to tell Trent when she started dating again after their divorce, but Trent had been all for it. He wanted her to be happy, and she deserved a man who treated her right.

Especially since Trent had never managed to do so in the bedroom.

Sex with Lilian had never been disgusting, or gross, the intimacy and the love there, but now that Trent had had Ted between his sheets and in his kitchen and in the bedroom and on the couch and and and-

Ted lit Trent on fire, dove him crazy with desire, what he and Ted had was…

Which was why it now broke his heart to think back on all of the years of-

It had never been bad, with Lilian, but it had certainly never been good either, Lilian usually kissing his neck in a certain way every month or so, Trent turning off all the lights and drawing the curtains before climbing into bed.

He had been excellent at fingering, of thumbing her clit just right, Lilian somewhat easy if she had come to him already in the mood, but beyond that, it had been missionary and the very rare doggy for birthdays, anniversaries and hotel trips.

“I feel so stupid…” Lilian sighed, holding Trent’s hands in hers.

“You’re not stupid,” Trent squeezed, “You’re Lilian Crimm, and you’re exceptional.”

“Would you please tell that to the actually single-“ Trent cringed, a guy last year hiding the fact that he was married, Lilian still enough of a journalist's wife that she had googled him after their first date, “emotionally available men of London who’s of a decent intellect and has a sense of humor?”

“I think Sam Obisanya is currently unattached.”

“I don’t want to date a child.”

“Touche.” Trent smiled, lifting Lilian’s hand and kissing her knuckles, Trent so glad that he still had Lilian in his life, his ex wife probably the closest thing he had ever had to a best friend, and what a best friend she was.

Chapter Text

“Thanks Bechs.” Ted smiled at the barista, grabbing the coffees he had just paid for, Beard right there to snatch one of them.

Ted had come into work after his morning session with Doctor Midfield, and it had all been fine, Ted managing to be there for Isaac, who had told him with tears in his eyes that his favorite aunt's cancer had become terminal. 

It was a tragic occurrence, but also part of his job as gaffer to manage situations like this, Ted putting his Coach cap on before he had even registered he was slipping into the role. 

They had made a quick plan for Sam to take over as many of the Captain duties as he possibly could, Isaac determined that he’d still be on the pitch come Saturday, since his aunt loved to watch him play, a TV set up in her hospice room.

Maybe, Ted should have set course for his house as soon as the day was over, but it had only taken a single look for Beard to know that something was up, his best friend waiting for Ted after work, the two of them setting a course without saying a word.

It was exactly what Ted needed, Beard the best friend a man could ever ask for.

Jane’s apartment was in the opposite direction from Ted’s home, but he had sent Trent a quick text, explaining that he’d be home late, and that everything was fine.

Which was like… 90% true, or maybe 80…

“So,” Beard glanced over at Ted, “you ready to talk yet? Not that I mind the company-“

“Awh,” Ted smiled, nudging Beard’s shoulder with his own, “I don’t mind you company either honey.”

Beard nudged him back, and Ted couldn’t help but feel overcome by a rush of gratitude.

Ted knew Beard still felt a little embarrassed about the whole car and couch debacle from their 20s, but Ted would make those exact same choices over and over again, even though Michelle had yelled at him, because Beard had just needed someone who believed in him, and who gave him a second chance.

“I do have a questiroo though, and I know you know that I know you know me like that back of your hand.”

“Spent a lot of time getting to know that sucker,” Beard took a sip of his coffee.

“And what a fine sucker-“ Ted paused, the conversation suddenly turning a lot more dirty than what he had planned.

“Ha,” Beard smirked, clearly pleased with himself.

“Dang,” Ted shook his head, a light laugh leaving him as he tightened his hold on his backpack strap, “you walked me right into that one.”

“Figured you could use a little pep in your step.”

“I appreciate the care and consideration Coach,” Ted swished his coffee around, Bechs kind enough to give him a triple pump of chocolate sirup when he had asked politely, “but can I be real a second-“

“For just a millisecond?”

“Exactly. It’s a toughie, so I don’t want you to spare my feelings. I need you to be honest, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Double diamond dog pinky swear?”

Ted wasn’t sure why he was making Beard jump through all of these hoops, Beard the person he trusted most in the whole entire world, but if he was being honest, he was scared.

“Double diamond dog pinky swear.”

“Do you think I’m a bad Dad?” As soon as he’d said it, Ted instantly regretted it, but he needed to know.

Talking to Doctor Midfield had been fine, the mess in his head causing him a little less stress, but Doctor Midfield didn’t know him, his therapist unable to make any actual calls regarding his personality or his situation, so-

“No.”

“No?” Ted blinked, Beard replying almost instantly. “Well, elaborate, please?”

“No I don’t think you’re a bad Dad.”

“Urgh,” Ted groaned, “You’re killing me Willis.”

“Do you want me,” Beard raised an eyebrow, “to tell you that you’re a bad Dad?”

“It’s what everyone seems to think these days.” Ted hated how defeated he sounded, but as always, Beard was right there to support him.

“Now that,” Beard pointed at him, “is the most stinking thinking I’ve ever heard.”

“Well shucks honey,” Ted grinned, “did you just say stinking thinking? You do love me-“

“Don’t change the subject. Why do you think you’re a bad Dad?”

“Right…” Ted sighed, “I’ve just been messing everything up lately. Henry is a little better, compared to the start of this month, but he was so… Almost angry with me, and Michelle, she-“

Ted felt his stomach tighten. 

Doctor Midfield had helped him recall a bit more of what Michelle had actually said, but it had not helped Ted feel better at all.

Actually, it had had the exact opposite effect.

Ted didn’t like to think of himself as a Fun Dad. 

He wasn’t some sort of weekend parent, some deadbeat who barely showed up, who didn’t care, who let his kid run rampant, but what if-

"Do you know how many times I yelled at my Dad before he left us?”

“No,” Beard had told Ted in confidence that his Dad had walked out before he started high school, the two of them not in contact today, even though Daddy Beard had tried to reach out once he saw his son on TV, “how many?”

“Zero, because I was terrified of him.” Ted felt his stomach clench once again, his heart breaking. “Henry sharing his feelings with you doesn’t mean you’re a bad Dad, even if he’s frustrated while doing it.”

Ted nodded, listening as Beard talked.

“Sharing means he trusts you enough to be honest, and that’s a good thing.”

“You sure about that?” Ted hated how insecure he sounded, hated how wrong footed he felt.

“I diamond dog swore, didn’t I?” Beard drained the last of his coffee, Ted’s still half full. “Now tell me who else has gotten into your noggin-“

“I don’t want to talk behind her back-“

“So it’s Michelle?”

“Kinda.” Ted shrugged. He didn’t need to have a husband's loyalty towards Michelle anymore, but she was still Henry’s mother, and despite everything, she was his friend too, his really good friend, who he had known for more than half of his life.

He had eaten more breakfasts and dinners with Michelle than any other person, he had celebrated Christmas and birthdays and spent random Thursdays with her. 

She had taken care of him when he was sick like he had taken care of her, they had gone grocery shopping and taken vacations, and most important of all, was the fact that they had created Henry.

Which was the greatest thing Ted would ever accomplish.

“What’d she say?” Beard threw his cup in the trash, holding out his hand for Ted’s, the liquid cold anyway, so Ted allowed Beard to take it.

“I can’t remember.” It wasn’t the exact truth, Ted getting glimpses here and there, but he didn’t want to share feelings with Beard, not when it was about Michelle, Michelle deserving of facts, Ted holding her accountable for something she might not even have said extremely unfair.

“Panic attack that bad?”

“Yup.” Ted waited for a second, expecting a reaction from his body, but nothing happened. It felt nice to be able to say that without spiraling, his morning session with Doctor Midfield apparently a lot more helpful than he had initially assumed. 

“You and I should really go for a pint-“

“Or four?”

“Or four,” Beard gave one of his rare smiles, and Ted’s heart sang with happiness, Beard’s smiles like treasures that Ted hid away to hoard, “and we should go soon.”

“Somewhere no one knows us?”

“Might be hard to find in the wider London area.” Ted clicked his tongue. “We could drink scotch at mine?”

Ted couldn’t remember getting another bottle of Beard’s favorite scotch, but he had to have bought it at some point, an unopened bottle in the liquor cabinet.

“Jane does synchronized dog paddling on Mondays.”

“I didn’t know you two had a dog.”

“We don’t.”

Right. Right right right.

“I’d love to say that I’d love to hear more,” Ted would in fact, for once, very much like to hear a whole lot less, “but that sounds like a mess that needs the best, and I’m barely fine, so let’s let that slide?”

“I respect that.” Beard nodded, Ted unable to dishiefer Beard’s expression, but he trusted Beard with everything, so he had to believe that he’d tell him if he needed help.

“How about I ask Trent if we can push date night to Tuesday? Make Monday about the two of us, huh?”

~~~

“Hmm.” Isabella’s tongue peeked out of her mouth, Henry watching as she tried hard to get the needle through the bead she was holding.

“Do you want some help?” 

It was Wednesday afternoon, and though Henry knew that he was supposed to be doing his homework, he hadn’t been able to resist the siren song of the big brand new jar of beads Trent had set out for Isabella.

Or, Trent had said that it was for both of them, but Henry was 12, nearly 13, and boys his age didn’t make jewelry anymore.

Instead, he had started to sort the beads into the correct sections in Isabella’s craft box, which was also pretty cool, making things all neat and tidy one of Henry’s favorite activities.

“No.” Isabella shook her head, Henry almost sighing at her stubbornness.

Trent had said that Dad had texted that he’d be home late, Henry a little sad about it, but it was okay, though he really hoped Trent wasn’t going to make pesto pasta, or worse, beans on toast. 

“Are you sure?” Henry had tried to reach over and help earlier, but Isabella had called for Trent, yelling out that Henry was teasing her.

Henry was sure he’d get in trouble, even though he hadn’t done anything bad or wrong, but Trent had simply yelled back that Isabella needed to play nice.

“I can do- Yes!” Isabella finally managed to get the bead on the needle, his sister pumping her fist into the air, Henry almost laughing at her, her way of celebrating any accomplishments betraying that fact that she had attended football matches since before she could walk.

“Blue please!” Isabella held out her hand, palm open, and Henry smiled as he handed her a blue bead, the entire process repeating itself. 

~~~

“So, let me get this straight,” Trent opened the cutlery drawer, a fistful of clean knives and forks in his right hand, “Are you asking me if Beard can… Join?” Trent almost wrinkled his nose, “Date night?”

“Course not.” 

Trent looked over at Ted who was standing at the stove, Ted whipping up what he swore was a quick and easy tuna casserole.

It sounded like a waste of effort to Trent, Isabella notoriously picky when it came to fish, but Trent’s last minute dinner plans had consisted of beans and toast, which wasn’t much better since Henry generally despised beans.

He did eat them though, and Trent hadn’t been paid yet, so a takeaway had been out of the question.

“Alright…” Trent tried to keep his tone neutral, getting in a fight the last thing he wanted to do when the children were home.

Even if this whole situation was infuriating.

When Trent had gotten the text that Ted would be home late, Trent hadn’t known how to react, especially because the text had only ticked in after Henry had already come home from school.

It technically wasn’t an issue since it was Wednesday, but Ted knew that Trent had to take Isabella to ballet and gymnastics Tuesdays and Thursdays, and while it was Wednesday, and everything was therefore fine, Trent couldn’t help but wonder if Ted had actually been fully aware of that.

If the text wouldn’t have come too if it was Tuesday or Thursday.

Trent would have made it work no matter what, but he would have preferred a little more warning to a change of plans, and he couldn’t figure out how to say that in a way that didn’t make him sound angry or bitter or like he was overstating his own importance, Trent refusing to appear like he was begging for consideration.

“Though that’s a company sandwich I wouldn’t mind being smack dab in the middle of.”

Trent was going to pointedly ignore the part of this conversation that could be interpreted as Ted potentially asking for a threesome, Ted a master at sailing directly into innuendo filled waters that he had no business navigating, Ted usually capsizing immediately. 

“So Beard is not coming over on Monday?” Trent was emptying the dishwasher, Henry and Isabella thankfully still playing with some new jewelry beads out in the living room, Trent breaking into his emergency craft surprise stash when he thought Ted would be home actually late, and not just what had turned out to be ‘cooking a quick dinner’ delayed.

“I’d like him to.”

Trent watched as Ted took the pot off the stove, walking over to the sink to drain what he insisted on calling noodles though it was very clearly pasta.

“Aha.” Trent bit the inside of his cheek, unsure how to proceed with the conversation, Ted either being willfully ignorant, purposefully hurtful or some third thing Trent hadn’t figured out yet.

It was likely the secret third thing, but right now, Trent still felt unsettled and uncertain, his brain unfortunately not providing a reasonable explanation for Ted’s behavior. 

He gathered the water glasses, putting them away except for the four they’d need for dinner. 

“So what do you say sugar cube?”

Trent didn’t know how to respond, which wasn’t a situation he found himself in often with Ted.

It was terribly selfish, but he didn’t want to give up date night, even if it was for Beard, even if it was something Ted needed, those two nights a month the only time Trent insisted on being a priority.

But what use would it be to have insisted, if Ted didn’t actually want to be there? If he only agreed to keep their plan to make Trent happy.

Fuck.

Trent closed his eyes, using the excuse of putting the water glasses away and therefore having his back to Ted to take a few deep breaths.

He still needed to get the dishes, but Ted had sent up shop right next to the dishwasher, Trent listening to Ted moving about.

Trent had stayed silent for way too long, his opportunity to come up with an answer slipping through his finger, but he felt trapped, and Ted didn’t even care.

“Are you okay baby?” Ted had stopped moving about, and Trent would bet good money that he was looking at him, “You’re being real quiet?”

“Don’t call me baby.” It slipped out before Trent could stop it, the snappy response not how he wanted to react.

Trent hated how he always ended up saying that he didn’t want to get called baby, especially when he didn’t mean it. 

He loved when Ted called him baby, but Ted only ever did it in moments of vulnerability, which was when Trent was most likely to lash out, when he couldn’t help but go on the attack if he felt small and exposed, Ted easily breaking down his defenses when Trent needed them most.

“Hey, if it’s a problem or it’s messing with something, I’ll just pop on back to Beard and do another round of calendar fun. I didn’t mean to cause a hassle by scooching Monday to Tuesday, so I’ll just-“

“You want,” Trent turned around, looking over at Ted, “to move date night to Tuesday?”

“Didn’t I say that?”

Ted had absolutely not said that, Trent equal parts annoyed and relieved that it had in fact been a secret third thing that had caused this current misunderstanding, Ted simply forgetting to loop him in on the entirety of his string of thought.

Which was much more forgivable.

Though it was still rude and inconsiderate to make a decision like that without actually involving him. 

Trent could make it a fight, could sneer and demand that Ted apologiced, but Trent didn’t want to do that.

“I must have misheard you,” Trent walked over, leaving the dishes for now as he put his arms around Ted from behind, molding himself to his back. “We can move date night.”

Trent kissed Ted’s cheek, hooking his chin on Ted’s shoulder, Ted babbling away about having drinks with Beard.

It’d be good for Trent to actually listen, since he was still unsure about whether or not he should make himself scarce or if he was allowed to stay, but he needed to rearrange his own mental calendar before he could actually pay attention.

Trent had planned on talking to Ted about getting his name on the house deed and rearranging their finances on Tuesday, so while it wasn’t a huge deal to move date night, it could still prove to be a hassle.

There was, however, the chance that it could be a good thing, Trent hoping that it’d be a little easier to keep Ted focused on things like boiler warranties and roof repair if he was enjoying a delicious meal.

~~~

Ted blinked awake, an uncomfortable crick in his neck.

He was… Wait? Where was he?

Ted sat up, looking around, rubbing at his eyes. He was… In the living room?

Why was he? And how come it was completely dark outside? Had he?

Right. Ted remembered sitting down on the couch after dinner, and it seemed like he had somehow fallen asleep while Henry had been playing on his Playstation.

Ted looked down. Someone, probably Trent, had brought down his duvet and unbuttoned his belt and pants, Ted still wearing his sweater and socks, and even his watch.

He lifted his arm, cursing when he couldn’t see the dial on his watch, but it had to be the middle of the night, Ted somehow sleeping through the kids bedtime. 

It had truly been a day. 

Therapy, work, a heart to heart with Isaac, an overly honest conversation with Beard, and then, Trent had acted weird for some reason, his boyfriend unusually quiet until he wasn’t anymore, Ted not getting to the bottom of it before he had slipping into his Dad role, all of that happening just for him to apparently end the day by conking out on the couch without brushing his teeth.

He should probably go upstairs, and he wanted to go upstairs, wanted to curl up next to Trent, but he was so tired, exhausted really, and he did happen to be surprisingly comfortable, Ted lying down without meaning to, his eyes closing without his input as he fell back asleep.

~~~

“Trent?” Henry whispered, keeping his voice down as he looked over at Trent, a bowl of cereal in front of him. “Is Dad… Do you think- Is Dad okay?”

Henry had woken up to Trent’s hand on his shoulder, which had been quite the surprise, since Dad was the one who usually woke him up, Trent a grumpy Mr. Grump Face until he had had his first cup of coffee. 

Which was why Dad normally made sure that the coffee machine ran overnight.

Today, however, the machine hadn’t run, Henry coming downstairs to find his Dad still asleep on the living room couch, even though it was past 7, Trent telling them that they were doing a silent morning, and that they should keep their voices down.

“Would you like comfort,” Trent had skipped breakfast, a cup of tea in his hand, the bag still in it, “or would you like honesty?”

Henry chewed his lip, considering Trent’s words. He liked that Trent asked him, Henry often feeling strong and capable in Trent’s company, but there was a pretty big flaw in his logic. 

“The comfort doesn’t sound very comforting if I know it’s not the truth.”

“That’s a very valid point.” Trent reached across the table, putting his hand in between Isabella’s face and her iPad, Isabella looking at him and wrinkling her nose, her headphones over her ears.

Isabella usually only got her iPad during matches, or when she was sick, but because it was a silent morning, Trent had allowed her to have it at the table, Isabella watching a show. 

Trent pointed at her half eaten toast, and Isabella pouted and shook her head, but Trent pointed again, Isabella rolling her eyes before taking the plate and picking up her toast, Trent slathering it in butter and strawberry jam.

“Have you made your decision?” Trent turned to Henry, clearly deciding that he wasn’t going to risk waking up Dad to argue with Isabella about her attitude.

“I think I’d like the honest one.”

“Well you’re in luck,” Trent smiled, “because the honest answer is that, yes, your Dad is asleep on the couch, which is a deviation from routine, and it makes sense that you worry about him-“

Henry nodded, Trent putting words to the wiggles in his belly.

“He has a job that puts a lot of pressure on him, and it requires time, energy, focus and skill. It’s incredibly hard work being a football manager in the Premier League.”

Henry nodded again. Before moving to England, Henry had dreamed about doing the stuff he saw Dad do on TV, but now that he lived here, he wasn’t sure if it was actually worth it. 

Henry would much rather do what Mr. Higgins did, or have a cool job like Alfie the nutritionist who had given Henry snacks in Birmingham, though he’d like to be an architect most of all.

“It takes heart to care about people the way your Dad does, to have that much kindness and courage and compassion, and he, unfortunately, has a tendency to burn his candle from both ends.”

“What does that mean?” Henry didn’t always like to ask for clarification, but he didn’t mind doing it with Trent, because he never made fun of him if he didn’t understand something. 

“He tends to stretch himself thin?”

“Isn’t that bad?” Henry bit his lip, the wiggles in his stomach back tenfold. 

“It’s not great,” Trent put his mug down, moving his chair slightly so he was looking directly at Henry, “but do you know why you shouldn’t worry about it?”

“Why?”

“Your Dad has a lot of good people that watch out for him. He has you-“

Henry felt instantly proud, the wiggles replaced by a delicious warmth. He was the one who had noticed that Dad had fallen asleep last night, Henry switching his game out for a Youtube video with rain sounds before he had run off to tell Trent in case Dad needed to be carried to bed.

“And he has your Uncle Beard.”

Dad did indeed have Uncle Beard, which was nice to think about, since Henry knew with absolute certainty that Uncle Beard would never let anything bad happen to Dad, Uncle Beard once promising Henry that he’d protect Dad with his life.

“And your Mother and Rebecca, and Doctor Midfield-“

“It’s good to have Rebecca on your team. Nobody messes with Rebecca.”

Henry was sure Rebecca was scary enough to make anyone pee their pants if she wanted to, Henry once watching her yell at a journalist who had been mean to Sue from the women’s team.

“Exactly. Nobody messes with Rebecca.” Trent smiled, an amused sparkle in his eyes. “There’s also the squad”

That made sense too. Dad had told Henry that the most important part of his job was to take care of the players, but Henry knew that all of the players cared about Dad, and that they’d protect him any way they could.

“So there’s no reason,” Trent reached out, giving Henry’s hand a quick but careful squeeze, “for you to be worried, okay?”

“What about you?”

“What about me, what?” Trent looked slightly confused, as if what Henry said was strange.

“You look after Dad too.”

“That’s… very sweet of you to say.”

If Henry was being really really really honest with himself, there was a teeny tiny part of him that still wanted Mom and Dad to get back together, for his life to go back to the way he remembered it being when he had been little. 

But Henry could also see just how much Dad and Trent loved each other. 

You’d have to be blind not to see how much Dad adored Trent, how he lit up when Trent was around, and Henry knew that Trent put insane amounts of effort into supporting Dad, Trent doing so many things for Dad that Henry wasn’t sure Dad was even aware of.

“Thank you Henry. That, it means a lot to me, that you think that.”

“Course,” Henry shrugged, Trent sounding oddly touched because of something that was painfully obvious. “So, you promise that Dad is okay?”

“I do.”

Henry smiled, Trent’s reassurance killing the last bits of his worry, because Trent didn’t lie to him, just like Henry didn’t lie to Trent.

Which meant that Dad was okay.

“We should probably get going,” Trent looked at his watch, a sigh leaving him. “Would you do us the honors of waking your father so he’ll make it to work on time, or should we let the demon,” Trent nodded his head towards Isabella, “loose on him?”

Henry looked at Isabella, his sister licking strawberry residue off of her fingers. “Isabella please.”

Chapter Text

“Now listen up big guy, because I’m about to let you in on a Lasso family secret-“

Ted looked down at Henry, his son standing at his side, eyes bright, a smile on his lips as he listened intently. Ted had woken up to Isabella jumping on top of him, a knee going directly into his ribs, but somehow, he had felt totally refreshed, the night on the couch in his near comatose state somehow rejuvenating him after days upon days where Ted had felt beyond exhausted.  

“Making a good, no, a great lasagna, is not just about the layers, or the love you put into the sauces-“

Henry giggled, and Ted smiled too. It hadn’t been his plan to have Henry in the kitchen with him, but he was so happy Henry had come in to ask for his help with a math problem, his computer long abandoned since Ted hadn’t actually been able to help him anyway.

Ted was sure Trent could have figured it out, or at least helped Henry to help himself, but Trent and Isabella were at gymnastics, Ted determined to have dinner on the table and ready for their return.

“The most important thing-“ Ted grabbed the bag of mozzarella cheese, “is that you don’t need a sprinkle of cheese on top. You need-“ Ted reached into the bag, grabbing the biggest handful he could, “an avalanche.”

“Dad!” Henry laughed, watching as Ted spread his first fistful out on the top layer of their oven ready lasagne.

“Here.” Ted handed the bag to Henry, “Your turn. Let me watch the apprentice become the master.”

Henry seemed a little uncertain, but Ted nudged his arm with his own, Henry gaining the confidence to go ham, which was exactly what Ted wanted.

Thursdays were always a bittersweet affair, but it felt extra hard this week. Tomorrow, Henry would go to school like normal, but he wouldn’t come back home afterwards, Michelle picking him up since it was Friday.

Thankfully, Ted would see Henry again on Saturday, but after tomorrow, he wouldn’t have an opportunity to hug Isabella for two entire weeks, since Lilian would be keeping Isabella for the entirety of the half term break.

Ted loved that Isabella would be going to Norway, that she’d get to go on an adventure with her Mom, but he already missed his little girl, Norway so very far away.

Henry would, at least, be staying in the London area, Ted and Michelle splitting half term down the middle, even though it was supposed to be Ted’s week, but Ted couldn’t begrudge Michelle for the extra time.

Not when it afforded Ted the opportunity to go directly from the Ipswich match, to the luxury hotel where he and Trent would spend two glorious nights, the two of them finally using Trent’s birthday gift.

“There!” Henry had finished covering the lasagne in mozzarella, a smile on his face as he looked up at Ted, “done!”

“Wow!” Ted grinned, “would you look at that, that’s a regular snow storm buddy, but!” Ted held up a finger, “Are we sure that it’s enough?”

It was more than enough, but Ted wanted Henry to have confidence in his choices, Ted determined to make sure that his son knew his way around the kitchen.

“Hmm…” Henry bit his lip, narrowing his eyes. “Maybe?”

“Well, as Roxette would tell you, Listen To Your Heart.”

~~~

Trent pulled his shirt over his head and balled it up before dropping it in the laundry basket in the corner of the bedroom. 

It was starting to get properly full, and Trent would have to get on it soon, the laundry schedule slipping because of the week, which Trent felt momentarily bad about. 

There had been other things that had had to take priority though, Trent indulging in an extra long tuck in time with Isabella, even though his little girl had practically been glued to his side all week.

Ted was in the bathroom, the door open, Ted jamming his way through what felt like Kenny Roger’s entire discography while finishing his night time routine.

He seemed to be more or less back to himself, and Trent was grateful for that, he was, truly, but Trent had no idea why Ted had seemed so…

Trent didn’t want to use the world unstable, but Ted’s behavior had been… Irregular, unusual, out of the norm.

Something had clearly been bothering Ted, and while Trent hadn’t asked, Ted also hadn’t told, which made Trent unsure if he should even broach the topic, if he was welcome to pry.

If Ted’s problem was any of Trent’s business, he had to believe that Ted would tell him - that he’d share, and since he hadn’t done that…

Well….

It was in moments like these that Trent had to hold himself back, where he had to remember that it didn’t do him any good to assume that he was at the top of Ted’s list, that he was entitled to be included in every part of Ted’s life.

If Ted needed to talk, he had Beard and Rebecca, he had Doctor Midfield and Keeley and his Diamond Dogs.

When Ted returned to Nelson Road, Trent had found himself added into a Diamond Dogs group chat, but it had to have been a mistake, or rather, Ted forcing the others to include him. 

Trent didn’t work at Nelson Road anymore, and while all of the other dogs were welcoming, none of them had reached out once Trent had finished The Richmond Way.

Which was fine, and understandable, but Trent refused to be a pity invite. 

He’d rather be alone, than be tolerated, so he had never actually shown up when a message had ticked in, though it seemed like Nathan Shelley had made the drive from the London Stadium to Nelson Road more than once.

Which was pathetic. 

Trent reached down to undo his belt, and slip it from its loops to roll it up so he could put it in the correct drawer.

It didn’t help to linger on his worries and insecurities, Trent taking a breath through his nose.

He slipped out of his trousers, trying to decide what he should wear for bed. It was the middle of winter, but Ted was also as hot as a furnace, especially at night, Trent opting to either sleep in his boxers or to be entirely naked whenever he could.

He’d have to wear some sort of pyjamas though, since Isabella had been in their bed more often than not this week, Trent convinced he’d find his daughter crawling underneath his duvet during the night.

It was less than ideal behavior, but it was something he’d focus on fixing after the half term break, Isabella allowed to seek whatever comfort she needed with her illness and the upcoming change to routine.

Trent had started rifling through Ted’s printed t-shirt drawer, trying to find the least horrendous option to steal as his sleepwear, when the man in question exited the bathroom. 

“Well hello there handsome.” Ted grinned, and Trent raised a hand without thinking.

“Down boy.” 

Trent really shouldn’t have made that joke, but Ted just wiggled his brows, taking Trent in, and maybe, Trent should feel ridiculous, standing there, bare besides his pants and his socks, but how could he, when Ted was smiling and looking at him like that.

It was nice, to know that he was at least desired, that Ted wanted him, even if he didn’t share with him, the want in Ted’s eyes a promise that whatever issues he was going through likely weren’t because of Trent.

Which also meant that Trent had to be patient, that he had to keep his distance, that he needed to remember his place. 

Trent didn’t have to be in Ted’s inner circle, didn’t need to be involved in every aspect of Ted’s life to be loved by him, and being loved by Ted, well that had to be enough.

Because Ted was worth the disappointment and occasional hurt, managing those emotions Trent’s own responsibility.

~~~

“But Daddy-“

“This household-“ Ted smiled to himself, listening in as Trent and Isabella’s voices traveled through the house, Ted in the kitchen and cleaning up after breakfast, “is not a democracy.”

“What’s a democracy?”

“You know perfectly well what a democracy is, young lady, and your blatant attempts at disruption will not save you from the fact that you have to wear your mittens.”

Ted poured Trent’s abandoned cup of lukewarm coffee into the sink, Isabella waking up in what could only be described as a mood. 

The vast majority of their Fridays went off without a hitch, switcheroo day a part of the routine, both kids excited to see their mothers, but Isabella’s bout of sickness seemed to have unsettled her enough for a power struggle to occur.

Trent always called Isabella willful, but Ted had a sneaking suspicion that she was simply her father’s daughter, Trent never giving an inch, even when Ted would have folded a hundred times over.

Ted had already said his goodbye to Henry, their son smart enough to escape the hallway to go wait in the car, Ted reminding himself that he’d have to text Henry a thank you for how patient he had been.

Isabella had gracefully allowed Ted the briefest of hugs though she was angry, Trent shooting him a disgusted look when he had pouted for permission to say goodbye, but he already missed his little goobers, even though he had made sure to get his cuddles in yesterday.

Ted reached into the overhead cabinet, grabbing one of their travel mugs to pour a fresh cup of coffee for Trent, the discussion in the hallway finally dying down.

He heard the front door open and close, Ted momentarily sad that he hadn’t gotten his goodbye kiss, though he couldn’t exactly blame Trent for the oversight. He grabbed the milk, pouring a generous amount into the cup, hoping that he’d be able to catch Trent before he left, but he hadn’t needed to hurry, Trent appearing in the kitchen door just as Ted was about to walk through it.

“We’re taking off.” Trent had the car keys in his left hands, his jacket already on, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Ted. “What are you-“

“Me?” Ted smiled, fluttering his lashes as he held out the cup, “I made you a replacement-“

Ted didn’t get to finish his sentence, Trent hooking two fingers in his belt and pulling him in, their lips meeting in a kiss.

It was nothing like the goodbye kiss Ted had expected, Trent hard and hot and demanding, Ted’s brain going offline for one long glorious moment.

Ted had no idea how much he had missed this, the quiet addictive after the week he had had, Ted already hungry for more.

Trent was such a good kisser, and Ted nearly felt his knees buckle, the attention making him melt, Ted almost whimpering when Trent pulled back, though he kept Ted in place, their bodies flush.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that-“

“Sorry?” Ted blinked, Trent’s word not making sense to his kiss drunk brain.

“Exactly, but thank you. Thank you so much.” Trent kissed his cheek, Ted vowing to himself that he’d always make Trent a coffee to go if this was the reward he got. “This was so thoughtful of you. I have to go-“

“Right.” Ted nodded, “right right right.”

“Tell me if this is too much, but do you want to have sex tonight?”

Ted spluttered, eyes going wide. “What-“

Trent had never been so direct before, scratch that, no one had ever been this direct with Ted before, asking him so plainly about whenever or not he’d want to fall into bed later. 

“I understand that you’ve been busy, and that you’re tired-“ Ted felt his stomach clench. It was true that had been tired in the past week, the panic attack on Tuesday throwing him all out of whack, “and that you’re playing United tomorrow-“

“I don’t-“ Ted didn’t want Trent to feel like he wasn’t a priority, didn’t want him to think that he wasn’t insanely important.

“So I respect if you’d rather I leave you alone-“

Ted never wanted Trent to leave him alone, never ever ever.

“I’ll be perfectly content with a shower wank, I just need to know-“

Ted swore he almost flatlined at the image of Trent in the shower, all naked and wet, soapy and dripping and hard-

“Yes.”

“Yes?” Trent raised an eyebrow, “Yes what-“

“I want, the sex, please, I-“ Ted could feel his face heating up, his cheeks without a doubt bright red, “I want sex.”

Ted could feel white hot shame travel up his spine, embarrassment washing over him, but it was the very best kind, the one that was fragile and special and theirs, Ted trusting Trent with everything he had. 

“Ha,” Trent smiled, his eyes so filled with love that Ted didn’t feel bad at all, Trent giving him a sweet and tender kiss, unhooking his fingers from Ted’s belt. “See you tonight then.”

Trent took the mug from Ted’s hand, turning around and walking off, Ted rooted to the spot, his cock rock hard in his pants. 

~~~

“There we go,” Ted lifted Trent’s leg, hooking it over his shoulder, Trent gasping at the sensation, Ted so deep inside Trent that he could almost feel it in his throat.

He was lying on his back on their bed, a pillow under his hips, Ted slowly and carefully and oh so patiently working him open, everything soaked in lube, Ted spending forever between his thighs, until Trent had been more than ready for Ted to slide home.

“You’re so gorgeous. So beautiful”

Trent bit back a whimper, a flush in his cheeks. He knew he could flip this around, could put Ted on his back and ride him hard, could take control, but for once, it just-

He didn’t want to be in charge, didn’t want to influence Ted, didn’t want to make any kind of decision.

He just wanted Ted to want him, to know with absolute certainty that he was giving Ted something he wanted, this physical connection the only thing he felt truly confident in. 

“Feel so good.” Ted groaned, moving his hips, Trent gasping as Ted started fucking, but- Fucking didn’t feel right. That wasn’t what was happening.

They weren’t fucking. Instead, Trent felt like Ted was making love to him, the whole thing sticky and sweet and slick and syrupy slow. 

“Love you so much baby.”

Trent didn’t reply, the rejection of the nickname at the tip of his tongue, but he didn’t trust his own mouth.

Instead, he clenched down, a broken moan leaving Ted.

It was nice to be worshipped, for Ted to so obviously want him, Ted’s eyes swimming, his pupils blown with desire.

“That’s it-“ Ted groaned, hair hanging loose, hips working slow and steady. “That’s it-“

It felt good to be taken care of, and Trent was so horribly selfish, but he wanted this, need it, deserved-

“Ah!” Trent gasped, his toes curling, Ted hitting his prostate dead on, his cock jumping at the pleasure.

“So hot, Trent, please-“ Ted turned his head, pressing a kiss to Trent’s knee, kissing whatever skin he could reach while pumping into Trent, going deep and hard, noises falling from him freely, Ted alternating between fucking and grinding. “I love you, love you-“

Trent let himself soak it all up, Ted’s adoration, the yearning, the fire, his hunger and his care almost overwhelming.

He reached out, hand finding Ted’s, Ted holding his hip, but Trent wrapped his fingers around his wrist, holding Ted too, using it as an anchor as he allowed Ted to do what he wanted, to take his time, Trent selfish enough to crave the reminder that Ted loved him.

~~~

“Just be-“ Michelle watched as Henry ran off, “careful…”

She sighed and sat down in her seat, crossing her arms. The match against Manchester United had ended, and Richmond had managed to tie 1-1, which was apparently a big deal, even though United were 9th on the table.

Not that Michelle fully understood what that meant.

The February air was freezing, the owner's box emptying out at lightning speed, everyone hurrying inside while Michelle sank even deeper into her seat.

Normally, Michelle would dive for warmth too, but today, she stayed put, Henry going off on his own.

It was cowardly, but Michelle had no idea on how to deal with Ted, especially since there had essentially been radio silence after their phone call Tuesday.

Michelle had been worried sick, calling and texting, hell, she had even considered contacting Trent, but Ted had finally answered her texts, Michelle apparently triggering a panic attack that Ted had been quick to reassure her wasn’t her fault.

She wanted to believe that, she really wanted to believe that, but there was no version of reality where it wasn’t absolutely her fault that Ted had been that overwhelmed with anxiety, the way she had handled herself earlier in the week equal parts disgraceful and embarrassing.

She shouldn’t have called Ted while she was so angry, and she certainly shouldn’t have called while they were both at work, but she had felt beyond pissed off, her emotions taking over.

Michelle had no idea where she stood with Ted. She had tried to get him on the phone, to discuss this with him again while they were both more calm, but it was clear that he dodged her as best he could. 

Ted responded to her texts, but only if she asked questions, Michelle pushing and pushing until she had to realize that Ted wasn’t going to give.

He didn’t want to talk to her, and unless she was willing to cause a scene, he wasn’t going to.

Which was why she was still in the owner's box, even though Henry expected her to come join him in the locker room. 

Going to the locker room would mean face to face time with Ted though, Michelle unsure if her worst case scenario was a Ted who pretended that everything was fine, or if it was a Ted who ignored her and gave her the cold shoulder.

Thinking of cold though.

Michelle shivered, her jacket nowhere near warm enough to sit still outside.  

She had expected to be left alone on the balcony, to have a chance to collect her thoughts, but there was one other person who didn’t seem to be in a rush.

Trent was still sitting in his seat, the two of them practically right next to each other, Henry’s empty seat all that separated them. His glasses were in his hair, his phone resting inside of a notebook that was balanced against his knee, a pen between his fingers. 

He was writing something down, Michelle watching him out of the corner of her eye, trying to be discreet.

Henry had been ecstatic when Trent had come into the box, Michelle a bit surprised by the enthusiasm from her son.

It had apparently been Rebecca’s decision to have Trent join them, Rebecca forcing him to come sit with them.

Henry had chatted with Trent through the warmups and pre-game talk, but as soon as the match began, Michelle understood why Henry had been so excited, because Trent truly cared about soccer and Richmond in particular.

Michelle had watched Henry holler and cheer, Trent equally in there, the two of them rooting for Richmond as though it made an actual difference, neither of them caring that everyone else in the box didn’t join in.

It was infectious, Henry getting up on his chair when Jamie scored a goal.

Michelle had watched Trent cup his mouth to yell at the referee, Keeley snorting so hard at the insult that Rebecca started laughing.

It was weird to be alone with Trent like this, Michelle unsure if Trent was ignoring her, or if he simply hadn’t noticed that she was still here, or if he was giving her space on purpose. 

She wondered how much he knew, if Ted had shared with him, if they were the kind of couple who told each other everything, or-

“You’re staring.”

Michelle jumped, blushing when she realised that she had indeed been fully staring, Trent catching her red handed.

“Sorry…” Michelle felt a curl of shame in her stomach, staring downright rude.

“I’m surprised you’ve not gone inside yet.” Trent put his pen in his inner pocket, the notebook folded around his phone as he turned his attention towards Michelle.

“I could say the same thing to you, though, you usually show up after a while…” Michelle has actually wondered about that, Trent often the last person to come to the locker room.

“I like to wait until the worst of the press junket is over, and the players have had a chance to shower.” 

Michelle wouldn’t call the quirk of a lip a smile on anyone else, but compared to how Trent usually looked and acted around her, he had basically just beamed in her direction.

“A locker room tends to have a certain aroma, no matter what sport.”

“Mmh.” Trent nodded, his interest in the conversation obviously dwindling.

It was kind of rude, but Michelle also wanted his attention back, a piece of the puzzle of Ted’s attraction to Trent landing in her lap.

Not that she wanted to think about Ted’s love for Trent, even if her ex husband were obviously head over heels.

“I haven’t gone inside because I’m afraid Ted and I are fighting.” Trent looked up, his attention immediately back on Michelle, who slapped a hand over her mouth, the words just slipping out without her input. “I’m sorry-“

“You don’t have to-“

Michelle wanted to shut up, needed to shut up, but she had already started speaking.

“You obviously already know all about it, and I swear I didn’t mean to get so upset on the phone, it’s just- Sometimes Ted pushes all of my buttons, and I- I was so angry-“

Trent didn’t say anything, his face completely neutral, which just stressed Michelle out mere.

“I’m afraid I’ve hurt him, and he’ll be mad, but I’m even more afraid that he’ll pretend everything is fine, and then I’ll have to pretend that everythings fine too so we don’t hurt Henry’s feelings but I don’t know if I can-“

“Michelle, I think you’re spiraling.”

“I am, I am, but I can’t talk to anyone about this stuff because Ted isn’t just Ted. He’s Ted Lasso of AFC Richmond, and you never know who’d sell the story.”

“That’s very wise.” The quirk of Trent’s lips were back again, though Michelle was unsure if he was smiling at her or with her.

“I’m sorry Trent,” Michelle sighed heavily, “I shouldn’t say these things to you.”

“It’s unorthodox, but I imagine you know better than most how much of a…” Trent plucked his glasses from his hair, “Unique experience it can be dealing with Ted.”

“Tell me about it.” Michelle sighed, rolling her eyes.

“I take it you haven’t had a chance to talk to Ted yet?”

“We’ve barely even texted. He’s as slippery as an eel in a bucket of butter when he doesn’t want to talk.”

“Aha?”

“God you’re so good at looking at people.” Trent had folded up his glasses, his eyes on her, and Michelle felt like she had been pinned in place, “I’m not even sure if you truly tolerate me, and yet, I want to spill my guts.”

“I like to think I was a decent reporter.” Trent had fully turned in his seat, his attention focused in on Michelle. “I know it must sound… Redundant, coming from me. You have much more experience with Ted than I do, but Ted is the most forgiving human being I’ve ever met, so no matter what issue the two of you are facing, I’d like to believe that he wants to work through it with you.”

“He probably does.” Michelle crossed her arms, irritation coursing through her. It was infuriating  how Ted was just a genuinely good person, especially when she wanted to be mad at him. “He really hasn’t told you anything?” 

She almost hoped that Trent would say that Ted had talked, because Michelle used to complain about Ted to Jake constantly. 

It had been unfair, she could see that now, but it had felt so good to have someone who was always on her side, to have another person in her corner, even though Jake had turned out to be the worst kind of ally.

“Ted hasn’t spoken with me about any conversations he’s had with you recently-“

Michelle felt her stomach clench, her heart breaking a little for Trent, even though his face didn’t give anything away.

“But we rarely discuss the disagreements we have with the mothers of our children.”

Michelle tended to forget that Trent had been married before, even though he literally had a child.

“I certainly don’t involve Ted in my dramatics with Lilian-“

Right. Her name was Lilian. Michelle had never met her, actually, she had never even seen a picture of Lilian, which was strange now that she thought about it, since her son spent half his time with Lilian’s daughter.

“So why would he tell me about any difficulties he might have with you?”

“I guess that makes sense…” Michelle chewed her lip, the cold getting to her now, the stadium almost empty.

“However, speaking of boundaries, and I’m not necessarily rejecting you outright, but I don’t think Ted would be very comfortable with us talking about him behind his back-“

Michelle felt a stab of shame hitting her directly in the gut, the sensation followed by an intense rush of jealousy.

She hated that Trent was that loyal, that he obviously loved Ted that much. 

Michelle had just told him an insane piece of gossip, and set herself up as open and emotionally vulnerable, Trent able to deep dive into whatever part of Ted’s past that he wanted, and yet, he stayed neutral.

Or, Michelle assumed he was neutral, Trent stonewalling her so hard she had no idea if he was actually cool with what she had shared, or if he was upset or even angry.  

“It does, however, sound like you need someone to talk to.” Trent put his glasses back on, “Have you considered speaking with Rebecca?”

“Rebecca?”

“She loves Ted and she’d never do anything to hurt him, but she also knows how frustrating he can be, and she’s not blind to his flaws, so you can be honest with her.”

“Are you saying I can’t be honest with you?”

“You should always be honest, but you’d do well to remember who you’re talking to.” 

Trent smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes, a shiver running down Michelle’s spine.

“Ted would want me to be kind, and I try to be, but if you volunteer that you’ve done or said something I consider unfair? If you’ve been cruel to the man I love? If you’ve hurt him in any way? I promise you that you’ll regret it.”

Michelle gulped, hard. “I-“

“Because I’m not a nice person, and I will defend Ted until my dying breath, so unless you’d like to know just how low I’m willing to go, I’d choose to share with Rebecca over me, for everyone's sake.”

“Right…”

“I’m heading inside.” Trent stood up, clearly done with the conversation, though he turned towards her, and held out a hand. “Would you care to join me?”

Chapter Text

“I think that’s all for today folks!” Ted smiled, standing up, “I’d continue to hang, but we all got places to be, you have deadlines to meet, weekends to get to, so I guess I’ll see all y’all beefcakes on Wednesday! Thanks for keeping it neat and tidy, and asking me questions I kinda sorta knew the answer to!”

The press room laughed, and Ted was reminded of how much he liked this part of his job, dazzling a reluctant crowd and winning them over one of his favorite things.

“Oh, and Lloyd!” Ted took a step back, making eye contact with Lloyd who was sitting on the front row as always, “Don’t forget that you owe me that crumble recipe! I promised my baby girl I’d make it for her, so don’t leave me hanging!”

Ted shot a finger gun at Lloyd, who rolled his eyes, though he seemed secretly pleased, Ted waking off of the podium backwards and moonwalking out the door.

It was maybe a bit much, but Ted loved how it felt to have the energy to goof off again, his night on the couch and taking the time yesterday to reconnect with Trent, truly replenishing him.

The tie against United had been great too, but that was work stuff, and while Ted didn’t say it out loud anymore, he still didn’t care about the wins and losses.

He cared about his boys, and he cared about AFC Richmond being the best club that it could be, to create an environment where his players could thrive and grow and better themself.

Where they were free.

Ted walked down the hall, instantly spotting Henry who was talking to Jamie, a gigantic grin on his face, Henry practically starry eyed with obvious admiration, Ted deciding that it’d be better to leave them to it, Henry basking in Jamie’s attention.

He spotted Rebecca and Michelle, Rebecca’s hand on Michelle’s arm, the two of them to the side and in the corner, Rebecca nodding periodically, his boss clearly listening intently to his ex wife.

Which wasn’t worrying at all…

Ted knew he had to say hi to Michelle, knew he needed to go over and apologize for the fact that he hadn’t reassured her sooner, that he had avoided her instead of talking to her about what had happened between them, but he had been so busy, and if he was being honest…

He hadn’t wanted to talk to her. 

When Ted looked at Michelle, he felt hurt welling up inside of him all over again, the fact that she had called him a bad parent the kind of thing he couldn’t just instantly forgive and forget.

Even if he sort of wanted to, sweeping his feelings under the rug and avoiding hard conversations one of his signature moves, but this time, Michelle had gone too far for Ted to just take the blame and accept the fault.

Ted was capable of forgiving a lot of things, but he didn’t want to forgive this, not yet. 

It was the coward's way out, but Ted had never claimed to be brave, and if Michelle was occupied talking to Rebecca, he felt no shame at all in avoiding her for a little while longer.

Especially when avoiding Michelle meant he could finally get to the best part of his post match ritual.

Tracking down Trent.

~~~

Trent was the biggest idiot in the whole entire world.

Monuments should be dedicated to how much of a joke he was, erecting statues to commemorate his stupidity   the only proportionate reaction to this newest development in his shitshow of a life.

He was a fool, a joke, an imbecile, an absolute nitwit. 

Trent had no idea how he could have been so blind, how he could have been so wilfully ignorant.

He knew that something had been up with Ted, his instincts telling him that something was wrong, and yet, he had elected to ignore it, to let Ted have his secrets, because Trent had chosen to believe that he’d be included when and if that was necessary.

Well, look who had been painfully wrong about that.

Trent had managed to act normal throughout the conversation with Michelle, had managed to play his part and hold up the facade. He had succeeded in protecting Ted's privacy and dignity by falling on the sword himself, and he’d do it all over again, but his sacrifice had left him hollow inside, Trent feeling completely empty.

He had taken Michelle down to the locker room, Trent thankfully finding Keeley right away. He had shot her a look, Keeley immediately catching on, Trent nodding to Michelle, Keeley making a beeline towards them which allowed Trent to slip away unnoticed.

It was cowardly, but he needed to lick his wounds in peace, needed to tend to his hurt without any interference.

Ted would figure out that Trent had left Nelson Road sooner or later, but it’d likely be later, Rebecca enough of a mediator and friend to both Ted and Michelle that she’d force them to sit down and talk if it was necessary, Henry plenty occupied with the players and the Higgins boys.

Not that Trent knew if it’d actually be necessary or not, because Ted hadn’t told him anything.

Ted had somehow been in a week-long fight with Michelle, and Trent had to find out about it from his boyfriend's ex wife.

Trent had looked at Ted’s son, had told Henry that his Dad was okay, that he didn’t have to worry, Trent nauseous with the weight of his ignorance.

It was incredibly childish, but Trent had been so sad and hurt and angry after his talk with Michelle that he had just started walking, his feet carrying him away from Nelson Road before he could stop them.

Trent desperately wanted a drink, no, he wanted to get downright drunk, to turn his brain off for a while, to forget his feelings, but the last time he had done that, he had shown up at Lilian’s apartment, and he couldn’t do that to her again.

His problems weren’t her problems, Trent losing the privilege of Lilian’s support when he had asked her for the divorce.

Therefore, there was no option to get drunk, so Trent would just have to swallow his feelings, to let them burn until they extinguished themself.

Somehow, he had made his way down to the Richmond Riverside, Trent huffing at how he had once again ended up by water while heartbroken.

The Thames didn’t provide the same view as the English Channel, but he still sat down on a bench, looking out on the river.

The only bright spot in this entire ridiculous situation was the fact that Trent didn’t feel sick with jealousy.

Which was a nice development.

He was heartbroken, he felt defeated and like he was a laughing stock, but that wasn’t because of Michelle’s connection to Ted. 

This time around, Trent felt hollow inside because of  the pathetic way he had clung to Ted yesterday, how he had deluded himself into thinking that he was precious because Ted wanted his body, that he was special because they had sex.

He was disgusted with the pitiful way he treasured the scraps Ted gave him, Trent willingly debasing himself to make sure he didn’t upset Ted, biting his tongue, hiding his anger, keeping his silence all to be dismissed anyway.

But he’d do it all over again, which somehow made everything infinitely worse.

Trent knew that he was not worth much, that he was easily forgotten, that he was the type of person that people didn’t truly care for when it came down to it, but up until now, he had at least carried himself with the knowledge that he did the best that he could.

That he managed to provide something for Ted, that his love was worth something true, that what they had was real.

He knew that Ted loved him, that he cared for him, but it was so sickingly typical of Trent to become overly invested, to overstay his welcome, to delude himself into overstating his importance, to believe that his opinions and his perspective would be valued.

It was good, though, that this had happened now, that Trent was reminded of his place in Ted’s life, that he had been shown where he stood before he broke something in his relationship that he wouldn’t be able to repair.

Trent could pick up the pieces of his own broken heart, putting himself back together something he had done a thousand times.

He knew that routine, and he’d recover, because he had to. 

Trent took a moment to thank the higher powers that this whole thing had happened before he had opened the discussion about finances, that he hadn’t admitted just how financially fucked he was, because he wasn’t sure if he would have survived Ted’s rejection or dismissal, or worse, his pity.

This was just a sign that Trent had made the right decision by keeping those things to himself, offering Ted an opportunity to tie them closer together a mistake that he had been spared making. 

Trent took a deep breath, closing his eyes to gather himself. It wasn’t a long road back to AFC Richmond, and if he was lucky, he’d make it back without anyone kicking up a fuss, Trent ready to put his mask back on, to once again play the part of supporting character in Ted’s life, to stay in the background where he belonged.

~~~

“Wowzie!” Ted sat down in the passenger seat, closing the car door with a satisfying slam, Ted beyond eager to enter this little bubble with Trent, the rest of the world effectively shut out, Ted already luxuriating in this opportunity of time that existed just for them, “I have had the wildest week!”

Ted had been just about ready to call for a search party, when he had spotted Trent in the corner of the coaches’ office, his boyfriend standing there with his arms crossed and his attention on the gym, Llewellyn running on the treadmill.

It was stupid how relaxed and relieved Ted had felt at just the sight of Trent, how simply seeing the other man had made him lower his shoulders and lift his head high.

Trent had seemed somewhat distracted when Ted had come into the office for a kiss and a cuddle, Ted’s tail basically wagging away at the chance for a chat. 

Ted had gotten his kiss, but Trent had whispered that he was tired, and that he wasn’t feeling very sociable and that he hoped Ted would forgive him for staying on the outskirts of the festivities.

As a certified extrovert with a capital E, it didn’t make a whole lot of sense to Ted why Trent wouldn’t want to come join a group of people in a good mood, but that was part of being in a relationship.

Understanding, and respecting the differences between you and your partner.

Ted had almost suggested Indian for dinner, to smoothe Trent’s frazzled feathers, but that was his comfort meal, and not Trent’s.

Instead, he had asked if Trent wanted jacket potatoes, Ted always keeping a few big boys on hand in the vegetable drawer in case Trent needed an easy but tasty meal.

It wasn’t Ted’s favorite, but he didn’t mind doing it for Trent.

Ted clicked his seatbelt into place, Trent not saying anything to his wildest week comment, but he had put the car in reverse, Trent’s hand coming up to rest on the back of Ted’s seat as he got them out of the parking lot.

“Lady football can be a cruel, cruel mistress, though I thank her for that draw, sorry-“ Ted interrupted himself, “tie we had today.” He kissed his fingers and raised them to the sky in tribute.

Trent had congratulated Ted on the 1-1 score, but he hadn’t said much besides that, Ted longing to hear Trent’s analysis of the game, though it didn’t come.

“You know. If my maths-“ Ted waited a beat, hoping Trent would smile at him for the fact that he chose maths over math, but Trent kept his eyes on the road, “is correct, this means that unless we start a losing streak-“

“Don’t say that.” Trent used the blinker, Ted smiling as he finally got a little bit of attention. 

“We’ll be Champions League contestants. Jet Setting around Europe, playing all of the greatest clubs, seeing those stadiums, meeting a bunch of players with names I can’t pronounce.”

“Is this your idea of dirty talk?”

“Is it working?” Ted grinned, wiggling his brows, but Trent didn’t jump in, didn’t join the bit, even though Ted had given him every excuse to talk about football, which was usually Trent’s favorite subject.

Ted waited, allowing a moment of silence in case Trent had something to say, but nothing came, Ted growing restless with it.

The silence was absolutely suffocating, Ted about two seconds away from breaking into a round of beatboxing, but just as he was about to do something he’d probably regret, he felt a hand on his thigh, Trent letting go of the gearshift to give his leg a squeeze.

“You’re okay Ted.” Ted felt his entire body relax, Trent’s reassurance exactly what he needed. “I got you. You’re okay.”

~~~

Trent couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this uncomfortable in his own home.

It was just his luck that Michelle spilling her guts would coincide with a home match, the rest of Saturday and Sunday stretching out in front of Trent.

Ted was usually so busy, and if this had happened during the week, Trent would have had plenty of time to get his act together, to get back to a headspace where he could support Ted, to take a moment to accept the harsh reminder of his place in Ted’s life.

Instead, he was stuck here, Trent sitting on the kitchen counter, Ted pouring him a glass of wine before Trent had had the chance to protest, Ted opening a beer for himself while he got their dinner ready.

It was so rare for them to have no plans, Ted telling Trent in the car how he couldn’t wait to just stay in tomorrow, and yet, Trent didn’t feel excited about it at all.

“Any takes on topping?”

Trent looked at Ted, who was peeking out from behind the fridge door. He was obviously asking about food, if Trent would like cheese or spring onions, but Ted had once again sailed directly into innuendo filled waters.

“Well, I personally prefer it as a sometimes thing,”

“What?” Ted looked genuinely confused, and Trent smiled, a tiny bit of his sadness dissipating. 

“But I can be persuaded, depending on my partner.”

“Oh…” Ted swallowed, a light flush painting his cheeks the prettiest pink. “You… That’s- That’s good to know.”

Trent took a sip of his wine, more than content to let Ted fry in his own fat, to let him simmer in the desire that was probably already building inside of him.

Ted was so wonderfully easy and sensitive, turning him on a near effortless achievement.

Trent wasn’t entirely sure if he wanted sex, but maybe, it’d be nice to get out of his head.

If he offered to suck Ted’s cock, if he got on his knees. he wouldn’t need to speak, and he’d have something to focus on, which could be good for him.

“Does that mean…” Ted stepped away from the fridge, a packet of bacon in his hand. “Are we doing stuff you don’t like?”

Trent blinked, unsure if he had heard Ted correctly. “Excuse me?”

“It’s just, you’re, you know-“ Ted put the bacon down on the counter, a forlorn expression on his sweet face, “You’re on top a lot.”

Trent felt genuinely surprised, Ted’s words not at all what he had expected.

“And if that’s not your preference-“

“You make it sound as if you consider me the regular top in our relationship?” Trent narrowed his eyes, trying to make sense of what Ted was clearly implying.

“Aren’t you? I don’t have a whole lot of experience with gay sex-“ Trent felt a genuine smirk bloom on his lips, Ted downright adorable with his babbling, the tip of his ears bright red, “or sex in general.”

Trent felt a delicious curl of possessiveness warm him from the inside out, the reminder that more and more of Ted belonged to him every day, that he was giving him experiences no one ever had or would, filling him with hot delight.

“And I know that it’s heteronormative to even assign top and bottom roles in queer relationships-“ Trent almost laughed at the way Keeley just spoke through Ted’s mouth, Ted likely a victim of one of Keeley’s many passionate lectures, “but with the way you make me melt? How I get all gooey inside?”

Oh…

“When we’re in bed,” Ted leaned against the counter, his eyes downcast, “I don’t think about anything but you, not the mess in my head or all the stuff I worry about, it’s just you. You’re my whole world.”

“Ted-“ Trent swallowed, the heat threatening to burn him now, his throat almost closing up with emotion.

Ted was so vulnerable, so open and raw, so-

“And with the week I’ve had, I feel so lucky that I get to come home to you. That you’re there…”

“Come here.” Trent opened his arms, and Ted did so immediately, Trent holding Ted in a tight embrace, Ted letting go of a breath that he seemed to have been holding onto for forever, his entire body sacking against Trent’s.

“There we go.” Trent whispered, a hand coming up to cart through Ted’s hair, Trent carefully guiding Ted’s head to his shoulder, Ted melting into him, Trent pressing a careful kiss to Ted’s bald spot.

~~~

“Wait,” Trent looked at Ted, Ted nearly cringing at the annoyance in Trent’s eyes, “he said what?”

“I don’t think he meant it like that.”

Ted couldn’t explain exactly how it had happened, but somehow, he and Trent had ended up switching places, Ted now seated on the counter while Trent had taken over the cooking, or-

Trent was making them toast, but Ted liked toast well enough, and it was quick, and it was easy.

“It ain’t Travis' fault he’s 22.”

“I was 22 once,” Trent pointed the butterknife at Ted, “and I would never have said something that idiotic.”

“I’d love to believe you,” Ted smiled, glad that he had only shared that Travis had asked about whetever or not Isabella were home alone, and not the entirety of their conversation, “but everyones said something cucucachu at 22.”

Ted hadn’t dug into it, since he prefered to let those around him work out their differences on their own, but he had a feeling that Trent didn’t exactly like Travis, and Ted didn’t want to deepen the rift, Ted still convinced that Travis could find his place at Nelson Road.

“Let’s agree to disagree.” Trent put a thick layer of jam on Ted’s piece of toast. “I guess I should commend you for the fact that you only got Isabella a comically large bear, and not a ludicrously large one.”

“Ha,” Ted chuckled, shaking his hand. “I guess I went a little overboard.”

“I liked it.” Trent took the plate and walked over, moving in between Ted’s legs as if he belonged there, four pieces of toast on the ceramic. “Bon appetit.”

Ted smiled as Trent started eating, Ted hooking his feet behind Trent. It should be way too intimate, their arms bumping together, but Ted liked it, no, he actually loved it.

“Can’t believe you eat marmite.” Ted wrinkled his nose, a thin layer spread out on Trent’s first piece of bread.” 

“Stay on your own side of the plate Coach Lasso.”

“Sir yes sir,” Ted did a mock solute, nearly knocking the plate out of Trent’s hand, which made both of them laugh.

Looking back at the past week, Ted had no idea why he had deprived himself of seeking solace in Trent's arms, the tight embrace of his boyfriend finally making everything inside of him slip back into place.

It was a little scary that Trent had that effect on him, that a few moments soaking in Trent’s attention did more to center and calm him than a therapy session, but when he was in those arms, Ted didn’t have to worry about anything.

It was so stupid of him that he hadn't talked to Trent sooner, but he had learned his lesson now, and he was going to do what he could to make it right.

Which probably included telling Trent that he was currently fighting with Michelle.

Even though he really didn’t want to. 

Maybe, he could just open up a little bit, let Trent know that he was struggling without going into details just yet.

Ted had every intention of telling Trent the truth, but then, Trent popped his thumb in his mouth, sucking on it to get a bit of marmaite off, and Ted felt his brain screech to a halt.

“Oh…”

Ted had never seen… Up close before, and they were so close, Ted’s eyes locked on Trent’s mouth, his lips closed around-

Trent was so pretty, so handsome, so-

It was downright pornographic, Ted whimpering when Trent popped the finger out from between his lips, his own food forgotten.

“Ted?”

Ted tore his gaze away from Trent’s mouth, looking into Trent’s eyes. He swallowed, Ted beyond aware of the flush in his cheeks, the way he wanted to grab Trent’s hand, the way he wanted to touch him, to-

“Well well well,” Trent smirked, putting the plate down on the counter, “Would you look at that.”

“I ain’t-“ Ted was going to say that he wasn’t much to look at, that Trent was the masterpiece, but before Ted could say anything else, before his brain could catch up, Ted felt fingers press against his lips.

Trent was forcing his way inside, Ted moaning helplessly, Trent humming as he stuffed three fingers into Ted’s mouth, drops of drool already threatening to drip down his chin, but Ted wanted, no, he needed, he had to-

“Close your eyes.” 

Ted obeyed instantly, following Trent’s commands the easiest thing in the entire world.

“Good boy.”

~~~

“Trent-“ Ted whined, and attempted to twist away, but Trent held him down, a hand pressed between Ted’s shoulder blades, keeping him in place on the mattress, Trent sitting on his thighs, Ted lying on his stomach.

“Ssh,” Trent smirked as he deeply enjoyed the desperate noises Ted was making, Ted without a doubt as hard in his trousers as Trent was. “Be still.”

Ted whimpered, but Trent just continued to push at Ted’s layers, the small of his back exposed and gorgeous, the dimples there one of Trent’s favorite parts of Ted’s body.

Trent tucked at Ted’s undershirt, bunching his layers up underneath his arms, all of Ted’s clothes still on, Trent fully dressed too.

They had stumbled upstairs, dinner abandoned, Ted a beautiful drooling mess as Trent had been allowed to play with his mouth.

It had been intoxicating, Trent nearly drunk on the way Ted had given himself over, how Ted had…

Submitted, for a lack of a better term.

Ted’s head was twisted to the side, his lips parted and cherry red, wet breath leaving him in quick huffs, Ted obviously beyond turned on

And Trent fucking loved it.

“I’m going to move my hand,” Trent’s voice was low, just above a murmur, Trent doing it to force Ted to pay attention, “Will you be good for me?”

“Yes-“ Ted gasped, nodding frantically, his cheek dragging across the sheets. “I promise, I will, please, I’ll be-“

Trent slowly removed his hand from Ted’s shoulder blades, waiting to see if Ted would actually stay still, but he did, Trent moaning at the beautiful display.

“That’s it.” Trent let both of his hands glide down Ted’s side, lifting himself up as he reached under Ted, Ted doing the same thing to give Trent space, Ted gasping at the sensation of hands on skin, Trent immensely pleased with him. “My sweet boy-“

Ted groaned, Trent feeling the way he was basically trembling with the effort of holding himself up, and Trent decided to show mercy, leaning over Ted.

“You’re so good to me.” Trent opened Ted’s belt, popping the button and pushing down the fly. “I love you.”

“Love you.” Ted almost slurred his words, Trent surprised at how much Ted was into this, how he obviously wanted and needed, how much he trusted him.

It felt crazy that it had only been hours since he had been standing by the river, convinced that he was a fool, that Ted loved him, but that Trent wasn’t important.

How could he think that now, when Ted was so vulnerable in his hands, when he was so open and sweet, trusting and perfect, raw and honest and Trent wanted to devour him whole.

“Love you too.” Trent pushed Ted’s trousers and pants down, Ted letting out a series of noises as Trent brushed against his cock, Ted rock hard and leaking.

Trent knew he had been playing with Ted, that he had teased him, but when he stopped undressing Ted, his clothes pushed down just below his ass, Ted actually cursed.

Loudly and intentionally.

Trent felt his cock jump, hips fucking forward without his input, Ted much more desperate than Trent had assumed.

It was fucking hot, Trent overheated with desire, though his burning need seemed insignificant compared to the fire that was obviously consuming Ted.

“Trent, please-“ Ted was panting, trembling as he held his hips up, “Please-“

“No.”

Ted made a broken noise, fingers desperately clawing at the sheets. “Please-“

“You’ll take what I give you, Ted” Trent lowered himself down once more, forcing Ted to take his weight, Ted pressed into the bed, “and you’ll like it.”

Ted moaned, nodding even though he was crying and pushing up against Trent, moving as much as he could in his pinned down state.

“You enjoy that?” Trent smirked, “Do you want me to use you? Want me to make you feel pretty and precious? Show you how perfect you are to me? Let you feel how much I love you and need you and want you?”

Ted nodded again, cheek dragging on the sheet, and Trent moved, getting down on his forearms, pressing himself along Ted’s back, knees on the outside of Ted’s legs, Ted forced into the mattress.

“Please, Trent, let me- I’ll do anything- I’ll-“

Trent was still fully dressed, but he knew Ted could feel how hard he was through his trousers, Trent nestled between his cheeks.

“I’m yours, make me yours, please-“ Ted nearly sobbed with his frantic need, head still twisted to the side. Trent let him take the entirety of his weight, a punched out moan leaving Ted’s lips. “I’m yours, I’m yours, I’m-“

“I know Ted,” Trent pressed a kiss to Ted’s face, Ted’s tears salty and perfect, “I know.” 

Chapter Text

Trent blinked awake, the scent of coffee rousing him from his sleep. He rolled over, lying flat on his back in the middle of the bed, his face pressed into the pillow.

He didn’t have to look to confirm that Ted wasn’t in bed anymore, music coming from downstairs, the bedroom door left open.

Trent felt his stomach growl, the fact that he had barely eaten dinner last night finally catching up to him. 

He sat up, running a hand through his hair, Trent smiling at the ache in his arms, his body sore and littered with marks.

Ted had been a mess last night, and Trent had loved taking him apart, Ted crying out in desperate hiccups as Trent ate him out, Trent finishing between his thighs while Ted had begged him to do it.

They had fallen asleep tangled together after a miniscule cleanup, Trent sure that the sheets would be a mess, but that was a problem for after breakfast, Trent reluctantly getting out of bed before stretching his arms over his head.

He had slept naked, and it had been glorious, Ted keeping him warm throughout the night.

Trent reached for his bathrobe, but he paused, remembering with a thrill that the children weren’t home. 

It felt a little naughty to grab his silk robe, to slip it on without even bothering to find a pair of pants, but Trent loved how it felt on his skin, loved how decadent it made him feel, lazing about in it the perfect hedonistic treat.

The robe barely covered his thighs, but Trent wouldn’t mind another round of exuberant enthusiasm, especially not if Ted got on his knees, Trent in the mood to have his cock sucked.

Preferably while he was sitting in the good armchair.

Trent grabbed his glasses from the nightstand, putting them on to check his reflection in the mirror.

His hair was an utter disaster, Ted fisting it repeatedly last night. Trent opened the drawer in Ted’s nightstand, a box of hair ties right there beside Ted's extra charger, his torch, the hand cream he had never opened and a packet of antihistamines.

Trent gathered his hair up, watching himself as he tied it into a bun. It had gotten long, the tips of it well past his shoulder.

It was stupid, and Trent never knew how to say it when anyone asked who cut his hair, because Lilian had been doing it for more than a decade.

She wasn’t a hairdresser by any stretch of the imagination, but Trent hated going to the barber, hated the smalltalk, hated having a stranger touch him, hated having his hair washed in that stupid sink and he really, really, really hated the strange compliments he always got on the thickness and volume of his hair.

So Lilian did it for him, Trent usually getting her a bottle of extra nice white wine for her trouble.

He’d have to text her, and ask if she’d have time once she and Isabella returned from Norway, Trent turning his head left and right to check if the bun was properly in place.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was good enough, Trent giving himself one last look over before he made his way downstairs. He hoped Ted had made pancakes, Trent for once in the mood for a big breakfast.

~~~

Ted knew he should focus on his food, knew that the small mountain of pancakes in front of him were getting colder by the second, that the syrup would make them soggy, but how was he supposed to concentrate, to focus on eating, when Trent had worn…

“Mmh,” Trent had taken his first forkful of food, his eyes closing in pleasure, and Ted had to swallow, Trent so-

Hot.

It was the bun, it had to be the bun, the bun the only thing that was truly different about Trent’s appearance.

Except… There was… But he had seen it so many times before…

Trent had kissed him good morning, had pressed their bodies together for the briefest moment, and Ted shouldn’t be this…

This dreamy and turned on, his own legs crossed to make sure his cock behaved, Trent just eating his breakfast.

Ted knew no one would believe him, but he didn’t just go around thinking about how handsome Trent looked all the time, how gorgeous he was, how well dressed and pretty, and Trent always smelled so good, his voice and his hands and-

Wow. Ted really needed to calm down.

Even if Trent’s chest was on display.

He had already made half of a fool of himself so far today, since he had nearly dropped the pan when Trent had come into the kitchen.

He’d recovered, but he had managed to burn himself, the sharp pain in his poor little pinky finger enough to distract Ted from the sight of his sinfully sexy boyfriend in that damned silk robe with his hair all… 

The pain had helped him actually serve up breakfast, to pour Trent a cup of coffee and make him a plate of fruit and carbs, but now…

When they were just sitting here?

Ted had no idea if Trent was wearing underwear, didn’t know if-

“These are perfection.” 

Ted blinked, looking over at Trent, a satisfied smirk on Trent’s lips, a delightful flash of embarrassment running through Ted at the fact that he had likely been caught looking, that Trent knew what he was doing.

“You’ve outdone yourself Ted.”

“Thankadooledo partner.”

Ted had woken up, practically bursting with energy. He had managed to wiggle out from underneath Trent, Ted so pumped up by yet another night of fantastic sleep and the - and Ted wasn’t ashamed to admit it - spectacular sex, that he had done a load of laundry, vacuumed the entire downstairs, cleaned the children's bathroom and cooked enough pancakes to feed the freezer before Trent had even stirred, Trent thankfully a very heavy sleeper.

Ted knew he should dig in, knew he should eat his food, but Trent was just sitting there, legs crossed, thighs touching, and if Ted moved just the tiniest bit, he’d be able to catch a glimpse.

He just had to know, needed to see-

“Theodore.”

Ted straightened immediately, the flush fully overtaking him now, Trent looking directly at him, the satisfied smirk from before joined by a twist to Trent’s lips that made Ted squirm in place, his stomach a wiggly mess of anticipation and want, of need-

“Finish the food you’ve worked so hard on,” 

Ted gulped, his cock getting harder and harder, Ted seconds away from tenting his pajama pants. 

Trent’s eyes were dark and filled with what Ted hoped was a playful desire, his gaze pinning him in place, “and if you manage to behave-“

“I can-“ Ted wanted to be good for Trent, wanted to be what he wanted so badly, needed to-

“I’ll let you suck my cock-“

Ted moaned, the desperation in it even surprising himself, his grip on his fork so tight it nearly hurt.

“Yes, I’ll-“ Ted stabbed a piece of pancake, “I’ll- That one. Please.”

Ted stuffed his mouth full, already chewing, his serving suddenly feeling enormous, Ted so ready to be on his knees, for Trent to tell him what to do, to have a hand in his hair, to know that he- 

“Good.” Trent smirked, leaning back in his chair, Ted reminded of a lazy and satisfied house cat, Trent clearly taking his pleasure in Ted’s frazzled state, in toying with him, and Ted couldn’t wait to see where this would go.

~~~

“Ah!” Trent pushed his hips forward, his hand fisted in Ted’s hair. “That’s it- Sweet boy, that’s it-“

Ted was on his knees in front of Trent, sunlight hitting the living room floor, Trent’s cock deep within Ted’s throat, Ted’s eyes closed. 

It was messy and drooly, Ted’s hand around his shaft, covering what Ted couldn’t swallow.

At least not yet.

“You do it so well, I’m about to- Fuck“ Trent moaned. Ted was so sweet for him, so good, and he had been so eager, acting as if it was a privilege to kneel for Trent, which was unfairly fucking hot.

“Ted- I’m come-“ Trent tried to pull at Ted’s hair, to get him off so Trent wouldn’t come down his throat, but Ted stayed in place, and Trent couldn’t stop it.

The orgasm felt amazing to, Trent’s toes curling as he emptied himself, fucking into Ted’s face, pressing his head back against the armchair, thrusting upwards, Ted choking a little around him but he kept swallowing. 

Kept being Trent’s perfect boy, his amazing man, his Ted.

“Fuck-“ Trent breathed out, pumping one last time, pulling at Ted’s hair once more, Ted following his command this time around, “Ted-“

He looked down, and he swore he twitched, Trent’s slick and spent cock spurting another tiny bit of cum at the sight of Ted.

Ted’s mouth was hanging open, his eyes half lidded, his face flushed and pink, his lips cherry red and swollen.

“Wow…” Trent didn’t mean to say that, but Ted whined, and Trent smiled, his body floating and heavy, his hands clumsy with pleasure.

Ted had his legs spread wide, and though he wasn’t touching, both hands on Trent’s legs, Trent could see the way he was moving, fucking forwards, grinding against nothing.

“Oh Ted-“

Ted groaned, his eyes falling closed and Trent guided his head to the side, Ted’s chin on his thigh. He kept his hand in Ted’s hair, tucking a little which earned him another pitiful moan.

“Do you want to come, sweetheart?”

Ted nodded, and Trent smirked. He could take Ted into his lap, or change their places, suck Ted or get him off with his hands, but his afterglow was honey thick and Trent wanted to indulge, wanted to stretch this out, wanted to float in this decadent desire.

“Touch yourself then-“

Ted whimpered, eyes flying open as he looked up at Trent, though he didn’t move his head, a wave of heady satisfaction washing over Trent.

“What’s the matter little love?” Trent smirked, the fabric of Ted’s trousers soaked, a wet patch obvious, his cock thick and full, the heavy bulge of it fighting its constraints, “Don’t you want to show me how you masturbate?”

“Trent-“ Ted squirmed, hot breath against Trent’s skin, “I-“

“Tell me to stop and I will,” Trent scratched Ted’s scalp, the touch clumsy yet hopefully sweet, “but I want to see you.”

“I-“ Ted swallowed, “Trent-“

“Let me see you Ted, let me watch you fist that gorgeous cock of yours, let me see you come with the taste of me on your tongue, show me how-“

Trent didn’t get to finish his sentence, Ted reaching into his trousers, the elastic snapping around his wrist, Ted moaning helplessly as he started to wank himself underneath the fabric, Trent gripping Ted’s hair, which only made him moan again.

It was beyond hot, Trent’s eyes widening at the sight. Ted was working himself relentlessly, fucking into his fist. 

To see Ted so desperate, to witness him needing it this badly, for Ted to trust him this way? 

Trent wanted to say something, had to say something, Ted so perfect and good and deserving of praise, but before he could gather his thoughts, before he could open his mouth, he heard another moan, the sound turning into a groan as Ted came.

“Trent!” Ted cried out, his eyes closed, his chin pressed to Trent’s thighs, the fabric getting soaked as Ted came in his pants, the whole thing happening in record speed.

Ted was panting, stroking himself through the aftershocks, and Trent swore he had never been more attracted to Ted than in this exact moment, Ted beyond beautiful in his submission to Trent’s wants and desires.

Trent had no idea how he had gotten this lucky, but he was never, ever, ever ever going to let go of Ted.

“Trent-“ Ted whined, and Trent moved, sliding down to the floor, climbing into Ted’s lap, putting his arms around him and kissing him, Ted perfection made flesh. 

~~~

Ted wiggled his toes as he spread out on the couch, his hand resting on his stomach, the remote turned towards the TV as he lazily flipped through the channels, zapping around for something worth watching.

It was lucky that he had had such a productive morning, because Ted was ready to spend the rest of his Sunday as a complete and utter sloth.

A very satisfied and happy sloth, but a sloth nonetheless.

Trent had taken him upstairs to the shower after Ted had come so hard he saw God, who smiled at him.

Homegirl that she was.

They had gotten into the shower together, Ted cringing at the mess in his pants, Trent laughing and pulling him in for a slippery and soapy cuddle.

Ted had then been allowed to wash Trent’s hair, which he had thoroughly enjoyed. 

He loved washing Trent’s hair, loved running his fingers through the strands, loved massaging in the multitude of products and carefully rinsing it all back out, loved how Trent trusted him to do a good job, how he let Ted take care of him.

If they had a bathtub, Ted would do it all the time. He’d sit on a stool and have Trent soak in the awesome bath he had drawn him, Ted convinced he could find a bathbomb Trent would actually enjoy.

Maybe, they should get a bathtub. It’d be a bit of a squeeze, and a remodel, but they could totally fit one into the downstairs bathroom.

Isabella would love it, and Ted was sure Henry could be won over, so he only really needed to somehow convince Trent that it’d totally be worth the hassle.

Maybe if he pouted a bit, and asked nicely.

Ted had just zapped past the British TV channels, when Trent came back into the living room, his boyfriend carrying a cup of tea and a glass of water for Ted.  

Trent blew on his tea, and Ted smiled as he watched him, the TV no longer holding his interest.

Ted had almost hoped that Trent would slip back into his silk robe after their shower, that he’d wear it around the house all day, but Trent had opted for actual clothes, which was only a little bit disappointing, even if part of his new outfit was that fuzzy sweater Ted absolutely loved.

It was probably okay that Trent didn’t walk around looking like sex on legs, that he had returned to his normal amount of hot instead of being so tantalizing that Ted’s engine revved whenever he looked at him.

Not that Trent’s normal amount of hot wasn’t enough to get Ted going, especially when he knew that they were all alone.

“Here.” Trent put the water down, giving Ted a quick kiss hello even though he had just gone to the kitchen and back.

Ted luxuriated in it for a moment, enjoying the sensation of phantom lips since Trent had already pulled back.

He definitely felt the simmer of desire, Ted sure he’d be ready for another round if Trent pushed, but it was also nice to take a moment to just be together, to watch some stupid TV and wait for lunch time to roll around.

“There’s a deep sea documentary on Discovery channel.” Ted looked at Trent who had sat down on the other end of the couch, his tea in hand as he rearranged the pillows to his liking.

“If I wanted to know,” Trent put his tea down on the side table, “what was in the sea, I’d be a marine biologist.”

“Fair enough.” Ted clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, a smile playing on his lips. “So no animals?”

Trent hadn’t picked up his couch book yet, which meant that there was still a chance for Ted to find something they could watch together.

“You’re the one holding the remote.”

“Right.” That was loud and clear Trent speak for no animals if Ted wanted Trent to pay even the slightest bit of attention to the TV. “Keeley told me about a Lust Conquers All spinoff.”

“Ted-“

“I know you don’t like reality TV,” Trent did like reality TV if he could complain about the contestants, Ted often putting on a show Trent swore he wouldn’t watch, only for Trent to become overly invested, “but Keeley says-“

“Ted-“

Ted looked over at Trent, and his heart sank immediately. 

“Uh oh.”

He didn’t mean to say it, but it just slipped out, Trent crossing his arms, a huff leaving him. 

“There’s no need for an uh oh Theodore.” 

“But that’s a serious face.” And Trent had just called him Theodore completely unprovoked. Ted muted the TV, moving so his back was against the armrest, his stomach starting to wiggle.

“It’s not an, it’s a-“ Trent sighed, pushing his glasses into his hair, “It’s an "I have to share an uncomfortable truth" face at most, if it's any kind of face"

Well shit.

“I ain’t too thrilled by that either.” Ted tried to recall if he had managed to do something bad since coming out of the bathroom, if he had somehow done something to warrant an uncomfortable truth on their lazy Sunday, “Can you give me a category of news, or-“

“Michelle told me that you and her are currently not speaking.”

“Oh…” Ted instantly felt like an idiot. He had no idea how he hadn’t considered the fact that Trent and Michelle had been sitting right next to each other in the owner's box. Henry had babbled away about it during his match recap, and Rebecca had specifically told Ted that she was dragging Trent into the box because they were playing United. “Trent I’m sorry-“

“I’m not saying this to have you explain anything,” Trent sounded almost dismissive, like it wasn’t a big deal that Ted hadn’t told him about Michelle yet, “and I don’t need an apology-“

“I think you do-“ Ted wanted, no, needed to apologize, and apologize properly. It had to have been so uncomfortable for Trent to have Michelle tell him about their fight, for Trent to get that information from Ted’s ex wife, instead of from Ted himself.

“I don’t.” Trent was surprisingly firm, but Ted had to- It wasn’t okay that he had put Trent in this position, that his cowardly hesitation to share something difficult had affected Trent like this.

“I just wanted you to know that Michelle approached me,” Ted swallowed, his stomach no longer wiggling but squiggling, “and that we had a conversation, or, rather, I thought you should know that Michelle talked and that I was present-”

“Trent-“ Ted felt terrible, like, actually physically ill because of what he had done, because of how inconsiderate and even cruel he had managed to be.

Ted knew how much Trent had struggled to accept Michelle, how much he tried to make it work, to overcome his jealousy and feelings of inadequacy, and then, Ted had come along and done this to him.

“I’m only sharing so it doesn’t come up in a way that surprises you, or that makes you anxious-“

Ted swore he felt his heart snap clean in half.

This was almost unbearable. 

Ted had failed, and failed hard when he hadn’t been mature enough to tell Trent exactly why the last week had been so difficult for him.

He was supposed to be on his knees, begging for forgiveness, and yet, Trent still looked out for him, Trent obviously uncomfortable with what he was sharing.

“I told her I didn’t know specifics,” Trent had switched into a tone voice that sounded familiar, but Ted hadn’t heard it in a long, long time, “which is true, and I suggested she went to Rebecca, since she obviously needed to talk to someone who wouldn’t lead either of you astray-“

Ted’s eyes widened when he finally recognized Trent’s cadence.

He was using his press room voice.

This was bad. 

Bad bad. 

“but I can’t be that person for her, and even if I could-“

“I’m so sorry Trent.” Ted had no idea how he was going to make this right, how he could make Trent understand that he understood just how stupid he had been, how cruel he had acted. 

“I don’t need an apology-“

“I should have told you immediately when Michelle called me Tuesday.”

“Tuesday?” Trent raised an eyebrow, finally breaking out of his press room persona, his eyes narrowing, “Is that why you were-“

Ted nodded, Trent likely recalling the hug they had shared in the kitchen. It would have been the perfect opportunity to say something, and he hadn’t, but he had to explain, had to make Trent understand.

“I meant to tell you, back then, when I said I had a bad day,” Ted ran a hand through his hair, his entire body sweaty and hot, “but then there was Isabella to think of and Henry came home, and I could have told you at night, I should have, but I didn’t want another panic attack-“ He wasn’t motormouthing, but it was getting close, “not with the kids in the house-”

“You had a panic attack because of Michelle?” 

“Not because of- it’s complicated-“

Trent looked horrified, his voice filled with empathy, Ted’s heart breaking all over again. Trent moved closer, a leg up on the couch, his body turned towards Ted.

“Why didn’t you- You should have told me, I could have-“ 

Ted knew that Trent would have dropped everything to come help him, that he would have shown up without hesitation, but Isabella had only just gone back to school, and Ted didn’t want to pull Trent away in case their daughter needed him.

“Rebecca helped to calm me down, and I didn’t want to- You don’t have to take care of me all the time-”

Ted heard a sharp intake of breath, hurt splashed across Trent’s face, naked and raw and broken and Ted felt nauseous with it.

“I knew what I was doing, I-“ 

He just had to explain, had to make Trent understand that he hadn’t done any of this to hurt him, that it was just a stupid mistake. 

“I went to therapy.”

“When?” Trent sounded almost accusatory, but he looked so worried that Ted knew he didn’t mean it like that, concern radiating from him. 

“Wednesday morning. Doctor Midfield helped me unscramble my brain,” or, he had tried, “but it was still a mess, so I did a walk and talk with Beard-“

Trent nodded, but his lips were pressed into a thin line, Ted’s hands showing the first sign of trembles. 

“And I was supposed to talk to you but then I fell asleep on the couch.”

“You needed that.” Trent’s voice was full of empathy Ted didn’t deserve, the trembles turning into shakes as he tried to keep it under control.

Trent had to understand, had to know- 

Ted hadn’t done any of this to hurt him, and he needed to see that. 

“Then you had gymnastics and I had to say goodbye to Henry and Isabella, and I won’t see Isabella for so long, and it all-“

“Ted.” Trent’s voice was firm enough that Ted immediately snapped to attention, his spine going straight, his head held high as he looked at Trent and only Trent. “I’m not blaming you for anything.”

“But you should.” Ted didn’t understand why Trent’s weren’t angry, why he- “What I did isn’t okay-“

“You don’t owe me-“

“I do. I owe you everything.”

Trent’s face crumpled for a second, and Ted wanted to throw up.

“You’re my boyfriend, my partner, you’re-” Ted looked at Trent, hoping, praying, that he understood what he was saying. “You’re important to me Trent, and I love you.”

“I know that you love me.” Trent moved a little further down the couch, their legs bumping together. “I love you too. I don’t doubt-“

“You’re important to me.” 

Trent smiled, but it was so sad, and Ted was genuinely worried that he was going to throw up. 

“Tell me that you know that you’re important to me.” Ted sounded panicked, even to his own ears, “Tell me you know that-“

Trent opened his mouth, but nothing came out, Ted choking on the sorrow in Trent’s eyes.

“Trent-“ Ted refused to cry. He wasn’t going to cry, because that would be cruel and manipulative and- 

“Hey-“ Trent moved to get off the couch, squeezing himself in between the coffee table and the couch while Ted tried to get himself under control, his hands fully shaking now.

“It’s okay Ted.” Trent kneeled on the floor, reaching out to grab Ted’s legs, Trent moving him “You’re okay-“

“It’s not okay.” Ted shook his head, the nausea threatening to choke him. “You’re so important to me, please, I-“

“You’re okay.” Trent squeezed his shins, Ted calming for a second at the contact, but he didn’t deserve this support, not when Trent didn’t believe him.

“I didn’t mean to- I never want you to feel unimportant. What can I- How can I- Tell me what to do.”

Ted’s voice broke, a few tears escaping him.

“Please, tell me-“

“Forgive yourself.”

“What?” Ted blinked, surprised at what Trent had just said, the tears running down his cheeks though Trent had managed to shock him enough that he had stopped crying.

“Forgive yourself.” Trent squeezed Ted’s shins again, looking up at him from his position on the floor, his glasses still in his hair, “I know it was an accident, that you didn’t mean to hurt me by excluding me-“

Ted felt his world stop.

He knew he had hurt Trent. Knew he had been an idiot, but to have hurt Trent enough for Trent to admit it out loud?

For Trent to say those words?

Ted had truly fucked up.

“I’ve made my peace with this, and all I want is for you to forgive yourself, so please-“

“I’m sorry.” Ted had to make Trent understand, “I’m sorry-“

“Ted-“ Trent took one of his hands, Ted painfully aware of how much it was shaking. “Deep breaths.”

“No-“

“Now. We’ll do it together. Now come on.” 

Ted closed his eyes, following Trent’s lead, Trent counting him down, and breathing with him.

He didn’t deserve it, but Ted felt the way his body slowly relaxed, Trent guiding him down, the sound of his voice enough to quiet Ted’s brain.

“There we go.” Trent squeezed Ted’s hand, and Ted opened his eyes. He still felt nauseous, his t-shirt uncomfortably wet, but he could breathe again, and he had the shaking under control, Trent slowly rubbing his thumb on the back of Ted’s hand. “There we go-“

“I don’t deserve you.” Ted sounded whiney, and he hated it, hated how-

“You deserve everything.”

Ted blinked, Trent saying it as if it was a fact.

“And you don’t have to be perfect.”

“… What?” Ted swallowed, looking down at Trent who was smiling, a real, actual smile.

“You seem to be under the delusion that you must never make mistakes, but Ted, my love for you doesn’t depend on you always doing the right thing,”

Trent lowered his head to kiss one of Ted’s knuckles.

“It doesn’t depend on what you do for me,” Trent kissed the next one, “how you perform,” and the next, “you don’t have to make the right choices all the time.” 

Trent pressed one last kiss to Ted’s remaining knuckle, before he looked up at him.

“I don’t love you because you’re Ted Lasso. I love you because you’re Ted, who’s simply a man. A man that I can’t believe I’m lucky enough to have.”

Ted hadn’t even noticed that he had started crying again, that the tears were coming one after the other until Trent reached up, using his sleeve to wipe his cheek. 

“Do you-“ Ted didn’t mean to sound this small, didn’t mean to sound so insecure, but Trent had told him that it was okay for him to just be Ted, or maybe even ted,  “Do you really mean that?”

“I’ve never meant anything more.” Trent smiled, and it was so soft and vulnerable, so tender and sweet. “Believe me. Please?”

“I believe you,” Ted nodded. “I believe you and I’ll do better. I promise.”

Chapter Text

Trent felt the bed dip, the movement of the mattress waking him up. He was lying on his stomach, blinking twice before he realised that he couldn’t see anything since the curtains had been drawn, which was confusing because he was sure he had left them open, and kept Ted’s bedside lamp on.

“Hey sweetie pie.” Trent felt Ted lie down next to him, Trent shifting to his side to make space with a half grumble groan, “did I wake you up?”

“No, I’m very much asleep.”

“That’s funny.” Ted threw a leg over Trent’s hips, pulling him in, Ted pushing Trent’s pillow out of the way so he could put his arm under Trent’s head instead. “You’re so funny and pretty and smart.”

“Alright Cassanova,” Trent smiled, Ted obviously tipsy, his touch heavy handed and clumsy, though it was thankfully also very sweet.

Which Ted had been consistently since their Sunday talk, Trent genuinely touched at the way Ted had apologized to him and meant it.

It had been unnecessary, but nice, Trent feeling the tiniest bit of hope flutter in the pit of his stomach at the idea that Ted maybe actually meant it, that he’d back his words up with action.

But Trent also knew that it was the hope that killed you, so he kept his tender heart quiet, and forced it to remember its place.

“How many beers did you have?”

Trent had spent his Monday in his office, going over the book he’d be recording Tuesday and Wednesday. It was a short work of nonfiction, and Trent felt confident he’d be able to get it right, Wednesday afternoon kept open in case they needed to do any rerecordings or touch ups.

“Less than 7.” Trent couldn’t see Ted, but he could hear the smile in his voice, Ted a chatty and touchy drunk if he didn’t mix his liquors.

“Aha?” Trent grinned, Ted and Beard truly living their dorm life renaissance while he had slept, Ted unaware of how long he had been out.

The dynamic duo had shown up with pizza and six packs of beer, Beard carrying their tower of pizza boxes like it was precious cargo, his jacket wrapped around them even though it was February.

Trent hadn’t expected that the entirety of their dinner conversation would be centered around the fact that Beard apparently really missed something called deep dish pizza, Beard and Ted reminiscing about a college pilgrimage to Chicago to visit Pizzeria Uno.

Ted had looked happy though, so Trent had let them talk, watching Beard and Ted riff off of each other a genuine pleasure. 

Talking about college had led to Ted and Beard uncapping beer after beer, Trent deciding to abandon ship when Ted went up into the attic to unearth his Gamecube.

Trent didn’t particularly mind gaming, though it wasn’t his thing, but he was absolutely not going to stick around and watch Beard and Ted reenact their decades old Smash Bro rivalry.

Whatever Smash happened to be. 

“Where is Beard now?” Trent had bought a camp bed for Beard months ago, but that was stowed away in the basement, Ted likely unaware that it even existed. 

It wasn’t exactly Trent’s place to be prepared for the day Beard left Jane, but Trent hoped that Beard would show up at their door when it finally happened, that Beard would allow Ted to help him when he was ready to escape. 

“Crashed in Henry’s bed,” Ted had snuggled even closer, Trent feeling the way he pressed a series of butterfly kisses to his cheekbone, Ted’s nose bumping against him, Ted obviously half hard inside of his pants. “But we texted and asked.”

“Of course,” Trent was secretly very amused by the image of Beard sleeping under Henry’s Minecraft covers, Henry still in a junior bed, but Beard seemed to be able to get a good night's rest anywhere, so Trent wasn’t particularly worried. “Makes sense.”

“Mmh.” Ted hummed, pressing a kiss to Trent’s lips, Trent pulling back immediately.

“Urh,” Trent didn’t mean to make a noise like that, but Ted had a very interesting taste. “Is that toothpaste and beer and…” Trent smacked his lips, “tequila?”

“Beard beat me with Bowser.”

“Alright.” Trent had no idea what Ted was talking about, and he didn’t want to know, Ted warm and solid against him, Trent cuddled up and comfortable. “You should get some sleep Ted.”

“What? Now? But what about more kisses?” Trent was fairly certain Ted hadn’t meant to whine out loud, but he was downright adorable with his pouting.

“I flossed and everything, it can’t be that bad-“ Ted breathed into his hand, and Trent laughed.

“Let me try again.” Trent kissed Ted one more time, Ted immediately there with the tongue action.

It was unusually sloppy, and wet, but Ted was also so sweet and so eager that Trent didn’t mind.

Though he could have lived without the tequila aftertaste.

Ted pulled away, but barely, Trent sure his eyes were closed as he mumbled against his lips.

“Am I minty fresh?”

“Don’t ask questions unless you want the answer.”

“Right. Right.” Ted slurred his words slightly, Trent smiling as he gave Ted a quick peck, Ted fading fast, Trent expecting him to doze off after one last kiss since Ted had work tomorrow.

Instead, Ted chose to dive right back in, Trent drowning in a series of open mouthed kisses, Ted practically eating his face.

Trent wasn’t sure if he was actually into it, until he was hit by the thought that this was what Ted could have kissed like as a teen.

All inexperienced and uncoordinated, eager but skill less.

Trent groaned, possessiveness coursing through him.

He loved the idea, the fantasy, that he got to give Ted his first kiss, that he could be given that gift, that he could treat Ted right, the idea of owning the entirety of Ted intoxicating.

Trent grabbed Ted’s hair, Ted moaning loudly, Trent sparing a quick thought to Beard who was hopefully asleep, but he wanted- needed- 

He was fully hard now, his cock straining inside of his pants, Trent ready to ask Ted to climb on top, to fuck into Trent’s fist, stroking both their cocks at once just what he-

Ted broke the kiss, his boyfriend panting, hot breath on Trent’s face, Ted letting their foreheads knock together.

He was pushing against Trent, practically humping his hip, but Ted was soft, half chubbed at most, a frustrated whimper leaving him.

“Shit-“ Ted groaned, pushing harder against Trent, “I can’t- I want this, want you, but I can’t-“

“Hey, it’s okay-“ Trent rubbed Ted’s side in soft strokes, Ted clearly struggling, “These things happens sometimes-“

“No to me. Ted Junior is so happy to see you,” Ted huffed, hips still moving, frustration clear in his strangled voice, “but I ain’t sure if I can get enough wood to knock it out the park.”

Trent took a moment, Ted’s words processing, and he didn’t mean to, didn’t plan on it, but he couldn’t help but laugh.

“Hey-“ Ted’s voice had a distinct pout to it, “I’m struggling over here-“

“Did you-“ Trent threw an arm over Ted’s waist, pulling Ted even closer, tangling their bodies together, “just call your cock Ted Junior?”

“Maybe-“

Trent didn’t let Ted finish, a kiss cutting him off. Trent kissed Ted until he felt him relax, until every last bit of huffy had disappeared, Ted mellowed and melty and as sweet as candy in Trent’s arms.

“There is nothing,” Trent smiled, “junior about the log you have between your legs Coach Lasso.”

“Nice.” Trent wasn’t sure if Ted had meant to say that out loud, but he sounded as pleased as a school boy, Trent giving him another quick kiss.

“Do you want to come Ted?”

Ted nodded, and Trent grinned, a sense of wickedness washing over him.

“Then let me make that happen for you and poor neglected Ted senior.”

Ted laughed, and Trent pushed Ted onto his back, Ted going willingly and easily, Trent climbing on top of him.

~~~

The sound of Travis’ whistle pierced Ted’s eardrum, the loud noise stabbing his brain like an ice pick.

“Urgh,” Ted swallowed against the nausea that threatened to overtake him, crossing his arms to hug himself, pitch practice thankfully over for the day, which meant that they’d be able to go inside in a jiff.

“You okay over there?”

“I think-“ Ted took a deep breath in through his nose, “we screwed it Willis.”

Ted should never have allowed Beard to seduce him into getting their drink on yesterday, but they had reminissed on so many fun and fond moments from their college days that Ted had forgotten exactly why he had a strict two pints limit on beer and two fingers on whiskey if it was a week day.

“I think you screwed it, Coach.” Beard was standing next to Ted, his sunglasses on, and as Ted looked over at him, lowering his own sunglasses to truly take him in, Beard did indeed seem perfectly fine, even though Ted knew he had matched him drink for drink.

“So you’re just gonna leave me stranded all by myself on Hangover Island?” 

Ted had meant to go for pouty brat, to voice his complaint about being the only one who was apparently suffering the consequences of their actions, but instead of shooting the shit and giving a cheeky reply, Ted felt a hand on his forearm.

“No. I’m never abandoning you ever again” Beard was still looking straight ahead and out of the pitch, not acknowledging the physical contact or the gravity of his words, Ted swallowing around the emotion that suddenly welled up in him. “But yes, you are alone on Hangover Island.”

“I love you man.” Ted moved his hand, fingers brushing against Beard, the two of them pulling apart, Beard shaking his shoulder and cupping his mouth, shouting at Raheem to get a move on, Ted groaning out loud.

The team passed by them, Ted recognising the Cheshire grins on his players faces, his halfhearted health charade clearly not holding up under scrutiny. 

“Come on Champ.” Ted nudged Beard’s side, following behind the squad while running through the rest of his mental to-do list for the day, or, rather, wading through molasses, his brain struggling to get kicked into gear.

Ted had woken up to sounds coming from the kitchen, Beard making them a hearty breakfast with hash browns, bacon and eggs, Ted drowning it all in ketchup and HP sauce while chugging orange juice and water like his life depended on it. 

Beard and Trent had spent breakfast arguing about how Trent called Ted’s chosen condiments tomato sauce and brown sauce, and how that was obviously wrong. Ted hadn’t truly paid attention, his focus on stuffing his face, each bite of grease and salt bringing him a little bit closer to the land of the living, but it was nice to listen to two of his favorite people talk. 

Trent had been overly smug through the entirety of breakfast, and while Ted hadn’t exactly avoided his boyfriend, he had also been real careful to keep a low profile and not make too much eye contact.

Ted didn’t mind that Beard had been in the house while he got down and dirty with Trent, but not minding Beard being around, and wanting his best friend to see exactly how easily Trent made Ted blush were two very different things.

Especially when Trent continued to awaken dreams and desires in Ted he hadn’t even known existed.

Like being really into coming while soft. 

Ted took off his visor, pausing for a moment before he plucked his sunglasses from his face, another groan leaving him at the strength and brightness of the overhead light.

He dumped down in his chair, Beard doing the same thing.

“I feel like,” Ted let the back of his head hit his chair, his eyes closing as Beard put his feet up on his desk, “I got all seven dwarfs hammering away in my head.”

“Movie or fairy tale version?” Beard folded his hands over his stomach, the players already in the gym, going through their cool down routines.

“Does it make a difference?” Ted wanted a nap, and he wanted to call Trent.

Just to check in.

Ted didn’t think he had any holes in his memories of last night, but he kept getting glimpses of basically slobbering into Trent’s mouth, Ted unsure if he should apologize for that.

What was the procedure? The protocols?

The polite thing to do?

It felt a little unfair that Ted had been such a mess, when Trent had fingered and sucked him to a spectacular finish, Ted almost kneeing Trent in the stomach with the force of his orgasm.

He closed his eyes, pushing aside thoughts of work as he tried to think of ways to make tonight’s date night special, Trent deserving of all the effort Ted could muster, but-

Ted was pulled away from his thoughts by a knock on the door, Ted sitting up straight and looking over, Will standing there with a very familiar box under his arm.

“Is now a bad time? Because I can come back later-“

Ted loved how soft spoken Will continued to be, even after becoming the managing kitman, two young men joining him in the boot room. 

“Hey there Will,” Ted managed a genuine smile, “how can I help you?”

“Well, first of all,” Will stepped into the coach's office, “I’f like to remind you not to shoot the messenger.”

“Awh come on,” Ted twirled his chair around, “Don’t you worry about that. I like to think I have a real good aim, so bark away brother!” 

Will nodded, though he still looked uncomfortable for a moment, Ted almost telling him that he was more than welcome to share his truth, but then, Will apparently found his courage.

“You owe 200 pounds to the fine box.”

“What?” Ted didn’t remember borrowing money from Will, “Why?”

“You were hung over at practice.” Will held the fine box out, its pink face and cheeky tongue looking directly at Ted.

“Ha!” Beard snorted loudly, a laugh leaving him. “You~ got~“ Beard sang, wiggling back and forth in his seat, “caught~”

Ted smiled, Beard’s schadenfreude infectious. 

He could technically take Beard down with him, but Ted decided to be a good person, Will’s callout more than fair, Ted a huge hypocrite for his misstep when he considered the amount of times he had preached to the boys about watching their drinks.

“Know what Will,” Ted reached for his backpack, popping it up on the desk, “that is-“ and excavated his wallet, “more than fair.”

Ted was still getting used to the feel of British pounds, the size difference between pounds and dollars catching him by surprise each and every time. 

He quickly counted out the 200, but as he was about to stuff them into the mouth of the box, he changed his mind.

“Actually, let me,“ Ted dug out an additional 200, “get ahead of the curve,” and shoved all of the money into the box, “in case it ever happens again.”

“Seriously?” Will lit up, a huge grin breaking out on his face. “Thanks Coach!”

“You get us something nice with that extra dough.” Ted put his wallet back in his backpack, Ted making a mental note to swing by an ATM on his way home.

“I will,” Will put the box down, Ted catching Beard stuffing his own stack of cash into it behind Will’s back. “I’m saving up for personalized bus blankets for everyone, figured it’d make our rides feel a little more homey next year when we’re galloping around Europe.”

“Awh,” Ted smiled, the idea so perfectly Will and incredibly sweet, “That’s real thoughtful of you Will.”

“You think so?” Will beamed, “If you two want to help, you should schedule another team meditation session! Because those always bring in the big bucks.”

~~~

“Oh…” Trent looked around, slowly lowering his messenger back to the floor. “What is-“

“Welcome home sweet cheeks.”

Trent huffed at the nickname, unsure how to react, the whole scene slightly unreal, Ted standing in the middle of the living room, a gigantic grin on his face.  

He had been late coming home from work, Trent stuck in a recording booth for 8 hours straight, but Ted had texted that Trent didn’t have to pick him up and that he shouldn’t worry about date night dinner, that Ted had it all under control.

Which seemed to have been an understatement.

Because Ted had excelled.

Ted had gone all out, transforming the living room and dining table into something that was worthy of a restaurant. 

He had drawn the curtains and set up mood lights, a record already playing, soft jazz filling the room.

Ted had put on a table cloth and lit candles, a bottle of red decanted and breathing, a jug of water placed next to what Trent assumed was Ted’s plate.

He had somehow found the cloth napkins, and the napkin rings.

Ted had even bought flowers, a bouquet of red roses in a vase. 

It was all set up like they were about to have a fine dining experience, Trent trying to recall if he had ever told Ted that the ‘fancy’ plates were his wedding china.

Lilian had insisted that they added it to their registry, though she hadn’t bothered to take the porcelain with her when she moved out after the divorce. 

“Do you love it?”

Trent nodded, well aware that he should say something, say anything, but he felt unable to take his eyes off of Ted.

“Why are you wearing a suit?”

Ted looked fantastic, mouth wateringly good to be exact, his boyfriend opting to put on a full suit, waistcoat and all, Trent feeling terribly underdressed in his knitted sweater and beige trousers.

“Wanted to wine and dine you. Make sure you know how important you are to me.”

“Ah.” Trent felt his stomach clench. He had hoped that Ted would have let that go, that he would never bring it up again, but it didn’t seem like he was that lucky. “You don’t have to-“

“But I do.” Ted walked over, and Trent felt his stomach clench again, but for an entirely different reason this time, Ted serious in a way he rarely was. “Because this is the least of what you deserve.”

Trent smiled, those words not ones he usually heard in a positive context. 

“Thank you.” Trent gave Ted a kiss hello, the peck sweet and quick and wonderfully dry compared to last night.

“Go sit,” Ted gestured towards the table, “because our entrees will be served momentarily.” 

“Oh?” Trent chuckled, “And what are we having?”

“Cheese and onion rolls from Greggs.”

Trent snorted, nearly choking himself, a laughter escaping him at the absurdity of the situation, Ted as crazy as always and Trent loved him for it.

~~~

“And that’s the last time I drove a tractor uphill at night. Those things are not made for offroading in the dark!”

“I’m glad everyone made it home safe.” Rebecca smiled, taking a sip of her tea. She often wondered how many of Ted’s wacky adventures there were certified truths, but Ted had never been one to embellish a story, even when it all sounded completely unlikely. “Speaking of farms-“

“It wasn’t technically a farm, but more of a homestead situation-“

“Which leads the mind to horses-“

Rebecca was about to offer Ted that he could take Isabella to come meet the newest foal of her retired dressage horse, Henry welcome to come along too, when her desk phone rang.

They both looked at it, since it never rang, Rebecca hesitating before picking up the handheld.

“Hello?”

“Hello Rebecca.”

“Trent?” Rebecca’s brows furrowed, though Ted perked up, his metaphorical tail wagging back and forth, Rebecca almost tempted to ask Ted if he wanted a treat. “Why have you called my office line?” 

“It seemed like the polite thing to do when I’m calling and interrupting Biscuits With the Boss, although my objective is speaking to my disaster of a boyfriend.”

“Aha?” Rebecca hid a smirk, a zing of delight running up her spine, this whole thing bound to be entertaining, especially when Ted was already mouthing a ‘what?’ at her, Ted clearly burning with curiosity, “Any particular reason?”

”As to why Ted is currently a walking disaster? Or why I’m calling?”

“The second one, though I’d love to discuss the first while sipping rosé.” It had been way too long since Rebecca had had a proper chance to get together with Trent, and Rebecca missed him. “Do you want to stay on the headheld, or should I put you on speaker?”

“Put him on speaker!” Ted had both his elbows on the table, a big grin on his face as Rebecca switched the landline to speaker.

“Hey baby!” Ted leaned over the table, making sure the microphone picked him up. “What got you reaching out on this fine day?”

“It’s overcast and raining.”

“But you’re my little ray of sunshine, so in a way-”

“You-“ Trent caught Ted off, and Rebecca had to bite his cheek not to snicker, “forgot your phone at home.”

“Wait what?” Ted leaned back in his chair, padding his pockets. “Awh shoot, I did, didn’t I?”

Ted sighed heavily, shrugging at Rebecca, who couldn’t understand how Ted managed to regularly forget his phone, since Rebecca always knew exactly where hers was.

“I didn’t mean to be a nuisance-“

”but you played Tetris on the toilet again.”

“That I did do.” Ted smiled, looking over at Rebecca with a mighty pleased looked, as though using his mobile on the toilet was something he should be proud about, “I’m this-“ Ted shows the tiniest gap between his fingers, “close to perfecting the-“

“Ted?” Trent sounded pretty impatient, Rebecca straightening her spine at his tone.

“Still here darling. What'd you need?”

“I think the question is what you need, because I presume you’ll want your phone back.”

“That’d be mighty swell sugar plum!”

Rebecca had no idea how Trent survived Ted’s relentless stream of pet names, some of them absolutely insane and over the top.

“I unfortunately can’t swing by Nelson Road before going to the studio, since I’m technically running late already.”

Keeley had told Rebecca that she needed to listen to Trent’s audiobooks, but she hadn’t gotten around to it yet, Keeley apparently popping one on whenever she used her pilates machine, Roy and Jamie giving the machine to her as a ‘sorry we’re busy’ gift in January.

“Will you make it in time?” Ted sounded genuinely worried, his brows furrowed together, his head resting on his hands.

”I’ll manage. Do you want me to leave your phone in the hall so someone can come pick it up, or-“

“Could you babysit it for me? Please?”

“… What?” Rebecca didn’t mean to say anything, the conversation clearly not about her, but she couldn’t wrap her head around Ted’s request.

Rebecca always knew exactly where her phone was, the thought of just… Leaving it with someone completely foreign. 

Even if it was password protected, texts still showed up on the screen, anyone able to read them if they kept an eye on the phone.

She knew her fears were a leftover from Rupert’s cruelties towards the end of their marriage, that this was her struggle, but it warmed her heart to see the level of trust Ted had in Trent, Rebecca not sure she’d be able to leave her phone with anyone.

Except maybe Roy.

Which was a thought that would have seemed psychotic five years ago. 

”You want me to take your phone with me to work, and then deliver it to you when I’m done?”

“Sure? Why not?” Ted shrugged, saying it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Because it’s barely 9, and I won’t finish up until after lunch?”

“You don’t gotta do it if it’s a bother, but I’d like it if you could. I trust you.”

~~~

Trent walked down the side of the pitch, security letting him in with a nod and a smile, which had been nice. 

It was easy to spot Ted, his boyfriend down by the south goal, Ted in a puffer jacket.

Trent watched as the team ran from one end to the other, touching the line each time, their afternoon workout clearly cardio focused, Trent feeling a flash of compassion and pity.

If he was still a journalist, he’d write an article about the cost of endurance, and how Premier League football today demanded an almost unfair level of physical performance, how the expectations from clubs and fans alike foisted unhealthy behaviors, how the conversation about orthorexia in the context of sport and football in particular had died out way too soon.

But he wasn’t a journalist, not anymore, and AFC Richmond did what it could to make sure they kept their players in good physical, emotional and mental health.

Trent walked to the edge of the concrete, recalling how he had practically groaned with frustration when he had spotted Ted’s phone in the bathroom.

For a man who constantly worried about Henry being able to reach him, Ted’s ringer always on, he had an infuriating habit of just leaving his phone behind, Trent usually spotting it before Ted managed to abandon it completely.

Thankfully, no one had called during his phone sitting, Trent unsure what he’d actually do if someone he didn’t know had tried to reach Ted.

He’d have to determine whenever or not to answer the phone in the first place, if he should let it go to voicemail, Ted calling everyone in his contacts by their full legal name, the caller ID never giving any hints to a person's importance.

And if he did get a call, how was he supposed to handle it?

Should he present himself as Ted’s boyfriend? Tell whoever that was calling that Ted was unavailable but that Trent could take a message? 

Was he supposed to convince a stranger that he didn’t have any possessive control issues and that that wasn’t why he was answering the phone, but rather that he was answering because he had a partner that tended towards being a scatterbrain on his best days?

Trent considered getting on the grass, but he had picked a pair of his more stylish boots for today's recording session, and he’d hate to get the leather wet or the heels muddy. 

He leaned against the fence, considering his options, the idea of raising a hand to wave or calling out for Ted to notice him, filling him with a looming sense of embarrassment.

It was probably a leftover from his school days, but Trent hated drawing the attention of a crowd, the press room the only public place he had ever felt truly comfortable taking the spotlight.

In the pressroom, he hadn’t been just Trent Crimm though, he had been Trent Crimm, The Independent, his reporter persona him at his most confident version.

And also meanest.

Out here, he was just Trent though, who barely had a legitimate reason to interrupt, Ted’s phone burning in his inner pocket.

It would be humiliating to make everyone look at him because of something so inconsequential, Trent thankfully saved from his agonizing, when Beard spotted him. 

Trent raised a hand in greeting, Ted getting elbowed in the side at the exact same time as Rebecca opened her window.

“Trent!”

Trent turned, surprised at her volume, though he shouldn’t be, Rebecca a fantastic singer. 

“There you are! Finally! What took you so long?”

The team had stopped running, everyone's attention turned towards the window.

“We’ve been waiting on you!”

Trent wanted to ask who ‘we’ were, though he also wanted the earth to swallow him whole, when Keeley appeared in the window.

“Hurry up Trent! Or-“ Keeley held up a jug, “we won’t have anymore margarita mix left for girl talk!”

Chapter Text

“Sooo,” Keeley smirked, making sure to flutter her lashes excessively as she looked up at Trent who was sitting in the corner of the sofa.

It had been hilarious to watch Rebecca essentially snatch Trent off of the field, Rebecca commanding Trent to come upstairs before the squad had had their chances to say hi, Ted barely finishing his hello kiss, Keeley easily spotting Ted’s disappointed puppy eyes from the second floor. 

“Are you excited about your romantic getaway?”

Keeley had wedged her body in between the sofa and table, her favorite cushion underneath her as she sat on the floor, a margarita glass in her hand.

“I bet you’re ready to get your groove on,” Keeley did her best Ted impression, putting on the accent as thickly as she could, Trent snorting at her butchered attempt, “to get down and dirty? To take the train to bone town-“

“Keeley-“ Rebecca clicked her tongue, though the mischief was clear in her eyes, Keeley’s Ted impression far from her best work. “Let Trent breathe.”

“What? I’m only asking.” Keeley took a sip of her drink, smiling around her straw as she tried to appear innocent. 

She knew she was toeing the line for appropriate questions, that she was ramming it in with a total lack of finesse and foreplay, but she had tried for months to be delicate and sweet around Trent, to let him come to her, but it hadn’t worked, and therefore, Keeley was changing her tactics.

To be as obvious as possible, to force Trent to understand that she wanted to be his friend, that she was his friend, and that he was hers too.

“Right Trent?”

“It is factual that you have indeed asked.” Trent leaned back in the sofa, his foot resting on his knee.

“See,” Keeley gestured to him, “Now share with us, please and thank you.”

Rebecca chuckle, and Keeley felt her heart ache with tenderness. She loved it when Rebecca enjoyed herself, her friend at her most beautiful when you could see her laugh lines, the crinkles around her eyes, the way her nose scrunched up. 

“I am not sure,” Trent took his half filled glass, the stickler insisting that he had to drive home, though Keeley kind of understood it, Ted a very unsafe driver on the correct side of the road, “that a stay in inner London counts as a getaway. Not to sound ungrateful Rebecca.”

“I simply suggested the place, Ted did everything else.”

Keeley almost rolled her eyes at how the conversation was going, Rebecca not at all on the same page as her when it came to grilling Trent and forcing him to open up, today’s Girl Talk a Trent Talk in disguise.

“You two are impossible.” Keeley shot Rebecca a look, and Rebecca had the good sense to be briefly embarrassed, a slight nod from her indicating that she’d get back on track. 

“But this has to be exciting, right?” Rebecca smiled, “It’s rare for you and Ted to have the opportunity to truly be alone together for an extended period of time.”

“Mmh.” Trent smiled, a softness blooming in his eyes, Keeley almost breathless with the tender love and care she saw there.

It was why Keeley kept pushing, why she refused to let Trent get away from her.

The prickly exterior was a lie, just like it had been with Rebecca, the sharp tongue and feigned indifference, the way Trent slithered his way out of invitations an obvious defense mechanism, and Keeley desperately wanted to meet the person who was hiding behind it all, to say hello to the real Trent Crimm.

The real Trent who obviously needed some real friends, who were responsible for the glimpses of longing and kindness and care that Keeley sometimes saw in Trent’s eyes.

“Oh come on!” Keeley had to put her drink down so she could throw her arms up, “A mmh? That’s all you’re giving us?!”

“It doesn’t suit a man in his 40’s to say he’s excited.”

“Screw that! This is girl talk! And you SHOULD be excited! Very excited, even-” Keeley twisted around and got up on her knees, her third glass of margarita probably a mistake, her hand landing on Trent’s leg “This is your first couples trip. This is a time to reconnect and get your sexy on.”

“I for one,” Rebecca chimned in, “would love to hear what Ted has planned!”

“Yeah! Do as the lady” Keeley pointed at Rebecca, “says and spill the beans!”

“He hasn’t shared, but Ted does have a tendency to surprise.” Trent smiled, Keeley a little surprised herself that Trent allowed her hand to stay on his thigh, but she also liked it a lot, being physically affectionate with her friends really important to her,  “He was quite sweet yesterday, but I’m not sure if this trip will be, quote unquote-“

Keeley almost groaned, Trent still such a reporter at his core.

“A time to reconnect and get our sexy on. I’m sure Ted just needs to relax.”

Trent still had the smile on his lips, but Keeley swore she saw one of those flashes of deep and soul crushing sadness in his eyes.

“He’s been running nonstop since-“

Keeley liked that Trent looked out for Ted, but he also needed to take care of himself, and Trent deserved to be the center of attention for once, Keeley determined to make him understand that. 

“How about we go shopping?” Keeley put on her most honey sweet voice, doing everything she could to appear innocent and tempting.

“Shopping?” Trent narrowed his eyes.

“Yes, me and you.” Keeley clapped Trent’s thigh, “Get you some new clothes to make Ted understand how lucky he is to have you.” 

Keeley briefly allowed herself to imagine Trent in something black and tight that showed off his body, a little shiver running through her. 

Trent wasn’t exactly Keeley’s type, but she could see his appeal, especially if she pretended to be Ted, who was so obviously head over heels, Ted sure to lose his mind if Trent put on some silky underthings.

Maybe even some stockings.

Though that was Jamie’s thing. 

Actually, she should pick up a little something something for Jamie, specifically a something something with bows on it.

“I’m sure my current wardrobe will suffice.” Trent crossed his arms and leaned back on the sofa. 

“And I’m sure I can squeeze you in tomorrow.” Keeley let go of Trent to reach under the table for her bag, Rebecca nudging it close with her foot, Keeley opening it up to dig around for her phone.

“This isn’t necessary.” Trent sounded deeply uncomfortable, but Keeley assumed that it was just because she was offering to fit him in, Trent completely convinced that Keeley had too much on her agenda.

Which wasn’t exactly wrong, but Barbara was the world's best CFO, and Roy and Jamie had each other, the two of them as snug as bugs in a rug.

Wow… Keeley had truly spent a lot of time with Ted.

“Get out your phone,” Keeley grabbed her phone and sat up straight, “and let’s talk calendars because I can do Friday, but it’ll be-“

“I’m unavailable.”

“Oh come on Trent.” Rebecca scoffed, Keeley glad for the backup from her bestie “This will be your first proper mini break with Ted. You should do what you can to make it special.”

“I figured my company,” Trent pushed his glasses into his hair, before crossing his arms, “would be enough.”

“Ted loves your company, but as your unofficial PR manager and your biggest shipper-“ Rebecca laughed, and Keeley glanced over to beam at her, “I have to insist-“

“Miss Jones.”

Keeley paused, surprise washing over her. Trent hadn’t called her Miss Jones since… Well, since forever ago, and it wasn’t even playful, Trent’s voice harsh and hard, his prickliness downright spikey.

“Trent?” Keeley put her phone down, climbing up on the couch cushion. “Is everything okay?”

“Can we change the subject?” Trent still had the spikes, but he was already retreating, already pulling into himself.

“Trent,” Rebecca's voice was soft and sweet and thick with empathy, “you can share everything with us.”

“There’s nothing to-“

“Trent.” Keeley knew she was using her dom voice, the command as sharp and as clear as she could make it. 

It was a gamble, Keeley hoping that Trent would take it seriously, switch that she was, Trent an obvious pure dom, but she saw him recognise her callout, and he thankfully decided to take it seriously, Trent lowering his shoulder, a flash of annoyance in his eyes before he crumbled.

“Fine. Fine” Trent held up his hands in surrender before crossing his arms once more. “As the sanctity of girl talk dictates-“

Keeley didn’t like his sarcasm, but she’d let it slide, Trent obviously uncomfortable. She got on her knees, body turned towards Trent so he couldn’t squirm away from her.

“I will be honest, but remember that I tried to be polite when this gets uncomfortable.”

Trent looked at Rebecca, who straightened up, Keeley nearly holding her breath as Trent continued talking. 

“I… am…” Trent clearly struggled, and Keeley almost wanted to tell him that it was okay, that he didn’t have to share if he didn’t want to, but then, he continued, words spilling out at lightning speed, “currently without adequate funds for a Keeley Jones style shopping spree.” 

“Adequate funds?” Rebecca sounded genuinely surprised, but Keeley had already put it together, “What on earth-“

“Trent.” Keeley put a gentle hand on Trent’s arm, “Are you skint?” 

“I’m not skint.” Trent scoffed.

“That’s something someone who’s skint would say.”

“I’m not skint, I’m merely-“ Trent sighed. “I may be a bit financially fucked, but I just happen to be freshly out of a sabbatical-“

“I don’t think you could call your January that babes.” Keeley rubbed her thumb up and down, knowing without looking that Rebecca was nodding behind her.

Trent hadn’t exactly told her, or Rebecca, why he had chosen not to work in December and January, but it had been obvious to anyone looking that Trent had chosen to put his own life on hold to take care of and help Ted.

“- And since I choose to work sporadically,”

Keeley’s brows furrowed, her eyes narrowing as she dumped down on her butt so she could look over at Rebecca without letting go of Trent.

Up until now, Keeley had been under the impression that Trent’s choice to work less had been one that Ted and Trent had made together, that it was a shared decision for Trent to take the administrative and supportive role in their relationship.

That it had been their choice for Trent to help Ted through his first actual transfer season.

The ability to take a step back and support was something Keeley truly admired about Trent, the selfless way he put aside his own needs, something she couldn’t do without going crazy.

Trent was able to pause his own dreams and his ambitions, and Ted had to be aware of the sacrifice that was, had to- 

“I have to be conscious of my financial situation, which isn’t-“

“So you’re just on your own?”

At the grown age of 34, it was rare for Keeley to have her worldview rearranged, but she couldn’t believe that Ted was someone who’d just abandoned his boyfriend financially, that he’d let the man who centered his entire life around him do that without any kind of financial compensation.

“I’m an adult Keeley-“

“Trent,” Rebecca had leaned forward, her margarita glass on the table, “if you need any assistance, I’d be happy to-“

“Rebecca. For the sake of our friendship-” Trent looked directly at her, his tone so frosty it made Keeley shiver, “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.”

“Right.” Rebecca nodded, and Keeley expected her to dig, expected her to say something, or just do… Well, anything, but instead, Rebecca stood up and straightened her blazer. “How about I make us some tea-“

“What?!” Keeley slammed her hands into the cushion, Rebecca and Trent jumping in unison. “What is wrong with you two?!”

“Keeley!” Rebecca gasped, “why would you-“

“I! cannot! BELIEVE! That I’m sitting here, having best friends who are such rich twats!”

Keeley felt, as she so often did, like she was the only sane person in the room, Rebecca willing to ignore the fact that Trent had just told them he had no money, and that Ted was allowing that to happen, all because they had both been brought up in the same upper class bullshit.

“That feels unfair Keeley-“ Trent had wrinkled his nose, his arms still tightly crossed, “and aren’t you dating two Premier League-“

“Don’t change the subject-“ Keeley pointed at Trent, her finger inches from his nose, “They’re not twat rich and you know it. They’re dick rich, and that’s entirely different.”

Especially because neither Roy or Jamie would pull something as ridiculous as what Rebecca and Trent had just done, her boys still working class men in their hearts.

“We’re not talking about me, we’re talking about you. If you’re so skint you can’t afford a shopping spree-“

“Do we have to use that word?” Trent cringed, clearly regretting his decision to share, but Keeley refused to let him off of the hook, not when she had finally caught him.

“Ted should give you money.”

“What?” Trent looked genuinely disgusted, like Keeley’s suggestion was insane. “No.”

“Why not?” Keeley removed her finger, putting her hands on her hips. “Rebecca, back me up-“

“I’m not-“

“Why would Ted give me-“

“Because you’re dating him?!”

Keeley had never been this angry with Ted, but she was furious, taking care of your partner financially the absolute bare minimum for someone in Ted’s position.

She refused to believe that Ted, their sweet and silly, kind and compassionate Ted, could behave like this much of an asshole.

Was he blind? Did he truly not know how much Trent did for him? Did he not see all the ways his life only worked because Trent made it work?

Keeley didn’t even live with them, and she knew that Ted would be fucked without Trent, Henry her little gossip buddy every other Saturday.

“My financial situation has nothing to do with Ted-“

“It has everything,” Keeley put as much emphasis on the word as she could, all of her previous boyfriend supplying her with her own credit card as soon as they had made it official, “to do with-“

“I’m not his burden to bear, and Keeley.” Trent looked directly at her, “I love you-“

“Awh-“ Keeley didn’t mean to melt, but she couldn’t help it, her anger disappearing instantly.

“but this isn’t any of your business-“

“I love you too Trent!”

“What?”

~~~

Ba-bunk

Ted caught the ball in his left hand before throwing it again, watching as it hit the floor and the wall, the ball coming back to his hand.

He had set up shop in the hallway, Travis kicking him out of the office because he kept sighing and Travis couldn’t concentrate with him moping about.

Which was kind of rude, but Ted also deserved it.

Because he had been sighing, and sighing a lot.

It wasn’t his fault though, Rebecca snatching Trent away from him before Ted had gotten more than the briefest of kisses.

Ted knew he was a needy lover, knew that he liked to hold those he cared about close, that he had a tendency to squeeze the life out of what was most important to him.

It was a character trait he tried to keep under control, that he tried to bury, Michelle teaching him over and over again that he was too much, and he thought he had mastered it.

Until Trent. 

Trent had opened some previously hidden part of him, had pried open his soul in a way Ted hadn’t even known was possible, Ted not just feeling needy around Trent, but like he needed him to breathe properly.

Which couldn’t be a good thing.

Ted had joked months ago that he felt like a Trentflower, that he needed Trent’s attention not to wither and die, but it had started to feel less like a joke and more like a truth, which Ted wasn’t sure he was ready to admit out loud.

Ba-bunk

The weekly Wednesday press conference had gone well. 

His press handling was one of those things Ted was always complimented on, Ted often told how natural he was in interviews, how he managed to finesse a crowd and create a mood, how he could win anyone over.

Ted didn’t feel satisfied though, because Trent hadn’t lingered at the back of the room. 

He threw the ball, a little harder than he had to.

Ted wasn’t truly annoyed, because that would be beyond petty.

But he was a little disappointed.

As soon as Trent had told Ted that he’d swing by Richmond, Ted had started working on jokes he could whip out in the press room, Ted essentially preparing an entire standup routine for Trent’s benefit, all to make him laugh, to watch that beautiful smile on his gorgeous face, and then, Trent hadn’t shown.

Ted threw the ball, the sound of his boys winding down for the day coming from the gym, Isaac putting on his Chill Town Mix, everyone getting ready to have their afternoon treat and strategy sesh in the cafe.

It had become a regular midweek tradition, the players all allowed to come up and present plays they’d like to try out, the winner getting a gold star sticker for his locker.

Jan Maas was in the obvious lead so far, but Bumbercatch had made it his mission to catch up, the healthy competition, the exact kind of locker room environment that Ted wanted to foster. 

Ted heard the clack of heels come down the hall, his head instantly peeking up, because that wasn’t the sound of stilettos.

It was the sound of heeled boots, Ted’s heart soaring as Trent came through the double doors.

“Oh.” Trent seemed surprised and Ted kind of understood since he wasn’t usually out in the hall, the ball escaping now that he wasn’t paying attention, Ted making a note to hunt it down so he could give it back to O’Brien. 

“Hello Ted.” Trent smiled, and Ted practically melted.

“Hey handsome!” Ted couldn’t even remember why he had been upset before, his issues no longer mattering as he bounced over to Trent. “Did you have fun at Girl Talk?”

“I told Keeley I loved her.”

Trent looked kind of shell shocked, like he couldn’t believe that that had happened, and Ted had to admit that he couldn’t either, Trent not exactly the kind of person who threw declarations of love around. 

“Damn,” Ted crossed his arms, putting on an exaggerated pout, “I didn’t think this was how we’d break up.”

“Ha ha,” Trent’s tone was as dry as the desert as he walked over, but he looked amused and annoyed, which was one of Ted’s favorite expressions on Trent’s face, “Very funny Theodore.” 

Trent gave Ted a kiss, Ted leaning into it, his crossed arms caught between their bodies, the doors to the gym opening before Ted could snatch up a second serving of Trent, Ted groaning into Trent’s mouth. 

~~~

“Hmm!” Trent’s eyes widened as he chewed the mouthful he had just taken. “Alfie! This is surprisingly tasty!”

“I’ll overlook the surprise and just say thank you for the compliment!” Alfie grinned, his blond hair up in a tiny little bun, a tray in his hand, today’s nutritionist approved snack a black bean brownie. 

Trent hadn’t planned on getting dragged along to the cafe by a horde of eager footballers, but he and Ted had been swept up, Trent practically tackled by Colin who had been thrilled to see him, and speaking of-

“Oi, Alfs!” Colin had already polished off his plate, Colin insisting that Trent had to sit next to him, Richard and Winchester at their table too, “Where’s the compliment for my compliment?”

“You love everything I make, so it’s not really-“

“You wound me,” Colin put a hand over his heart, “I’m wounded, and I’m dying, I’m bleeding out, it’s really serious-“

“Alright alright,” Alfie laughed, holding out his tray, “Have another one, and stop bothering me.”

Trent hid a smile with a sip of tea as Alfie and Colin continued to bicker, their noise easily tuned out, Trent sinking into himself.

The afternoon had… Well it had been a lot…

Trent needed time to digest, needed to let his emotions sink in, but he knew Ted would have been genuinely hurt if he had left without saying goodbye, and he hadn’t been able to come up with an excuse to avoid the cafe. 

It was an unsettling experience to be in a room filled with people, and still feel utterly alone, though Trent was used to it, the ache of loneliness his most faithful companion.

Loneliness didn’t make for good company, but there was something soothing about its familiarity, the hurt a comfort in the way it was known.

Trent hadn’t meant to open up to Keeley and Rebecca, waves of shame washing over him whenever he thought back to their earlier conversation.

Lilian had always told him he should be honest, but honesty had once again done him a disservice, Trent nauseous with the thought that either of his…

Well, maybe it was time to admit that he considered Keeley and Rebecca friends, when he had literally told Keeley he loved her, a nice nip of embarrassment poured on top of his shame.

Trent had always been told that it was good to open up, that talking about the things in his head was supposed to make him feel better, but it never really did.

Instead, it just gave way to a whole slew of worries, Trent looking over at Ted, who was reviewing the week's play submissions with Travis and Beard, the coaches gathered around the stack of playboards the boys had turned in.

Trent didn’t mean to draw attention to himself, but he had barely looked at Ted before he perked up, Ted turning towards him, their eyes meeting across the cafe.

It was stupid and cliche, so utterly redundant and ridiculous, but Trent felt the rest of the room melt away, his world narrowed down to Ted and only Ted, his worries disappearing as Ted smiled at him.

~~~

“There we go,” Ted mumbled under his breath, the sun still not properly up, the first drips of coffee finally coming out of the machine, the scent filling the room.

Setting up the coffee machine was a part of Ted’s closing shift routine, but he had forgotten to do it last night, since Trent had offered to dry the dishes after Ted had made biscuits.

Doing dishes together sounded innocent enough, but as probably should have predicted, the shared proximity with no kids around had led to sex, Trent getting them both off with an expert handjob, their cocks sliding together in his grip, Ted pressed against the counter.

Ted could feel a blush rise in his cheeks as he remembered the soapy handprints on Trent’s shirt, the fabric all wet where Ted had clung to him. He had looked so good, all-

Shoot.

Ted’s cock started to stir in his sweats, Trent so pretty when-

He needed to calm down.

Unless…

Trent was asleep, the lack of coffee and kids enough for him to still be dead to the world.

A part of Ted wanted to sneak upstairs, to shed his clothes and crawl back into bed, to wake Trent up with a kiss to his shoulder, hands roaming across tanned skin.

It was crazy how little it took for Trent to get him going, how Ted always…

Ted knew he wasn’t the most experienced man, that his list of sexual partners wasn’t very long, but he had never known that desire could feel…

That he had the capacity to want the way Trent made him…

Ted shook his head, turning his attention towards the fridge. He had woken up with a hankering for blueberry muffins, the cakes in the oven, but he already knew he needed something besides the muffins.

He needed a protein of some sort. Maybe, he could do breakfast sausages and syrup, and serve that alongside the rest of the fruit drawer.

Ted wasn’t proud of it, but he had left out an actual groan of relief when he found the unopened container of blueberries, Isabella’s pickiness his saving grace.

He had used Michelle’s recipe without thinking, and measured everything out with her voice in his ear, reminding him of the recipe, a dash of this, a spoonful of that, Ted doing it all the way Michelle had taught him when Henry was a fussy toddler and this had been one of the few things he’d eat.

Ted looked at the oven, the muffins rising inside, and he crossed his arms as he leaned against the counter, wiggling his toes as he considered his options.

He had spent the morning thinking of Michelle, and he…

Well, He hated that he wasn’t talking to Michelle, or rather that they were not not talking, Ted keeping them trapped in this weird limbo situation, his lack of a follow up text cruel and cowardly and…

Ted sighed, the situation a real pickle, though that felt like a dirty lie.

It was a shit show, Ted unable to sugarcoat it, even in his own head.

The timer dinged, Ted grabbing the oven mitts to get his muffins out, placing the tray on the stovetop.

There was no easy solution to his Michelle problem, but maybe…

Ted reached into the pocket of his sweats, grabbing his phone.

He wasn’t ready to discuss their call yet, Michelle’s words about the kind of parent she thought he was still making him heave if he lingered on it.

He could, however, extend an olive branch.

Let Michelle know that he was working up to reaching out, that he was thinking about her.

Ted took a step back, holding his phone up to snap a picture of the muffins so he could send it to Michelle before he changed his mind.

Chapter Text

Ted took a large sip of his iced coffee as he walked down the hall, his tumbler filled to the top with salted caramel creamer, three shots of syrup and a single espresso shot.

Their Thursday training had gone on as usual, Ted running his squad through one of their more complex training sessions, since tomorrow would be a hotel and rest day for his first team.

Nothing was ever easy in Premier League football though, and Richard had taken a nasty fall, Ted’s left midfielder injuring his shoulder again after slipping on a patch of wet grass.

It was incredibly unfortunate, Yumna texting Ted from the hospital that Richard would be out for six to eight weeks, which had led to Ted busting out the craft stash, Will and Isaac supervising the players as everyone made Richard get well soon cards.

Ted had slipped Will a tenner and asked him to whip him up a card with a sunset for Richard, Higgins flying in Richard’s sister so he had someone to help care for him and make sure he didn’t do any strenuous activities.

Richard had apparently protested about the sister bit, but Yumna had been firm that the first week was bed rest with an emphasis on rest. 

The injury left a Richard-sized hole in their starting lineup, so Ted, Beard and Travis had put their heads together to decide who they’d pull up on such short notice, hence the jumbo sized coffee in Ted’s hand.

The choice had fallen on Llewellyn, Ted still overflowing with pride whenever he thought of the way James had handled his Premier League debut in Birmingham.

Taking Llewellyn to a starting position meant that Ted would be bringing Raheem along for the bench, but he felt confident that he wouldn’t crack under the added pressure.

Ted needed to get back to the squad, their cards likely about ready to be taken to Richard, but as he walked past the boot room, Ted felt the smell of cigarette smoke fill his nose.

He took a couple of steps back, sniffing again, but it was unmistakable.

Someone inside was smoking.

Ted grabbed the door handle, carefully opening the door.

He had expected to see Keeley, even though she didn’t work at Nelson Road anymore, but instead, he saw Rebecca sitting on the bench.

“Hello boss.”

“Jesus Christ!” Rebecca jumped, nearly dropping the shoe she was holding. “Fucking-“ Rebecca swore some more, Ted allowing her to get it out, an ember falling on her skirt, Rebecca cursing anew when it had burned a hole through the fabric.

“You doing okay?”

“What does it look like?” Rebecca sighed heavily, flicking her cigarette, the ashes falling into the shoe.

Ted had no idea if Will had been smart enough to buy a decoy smoke shoe, but he couldn’t remember anyone playing in bright yellow.

“You wanna tell old Teddy what’s on your mind?” Ted sat down, Rebecca moving her feet, her knees tucked up close against her chest. “I’ve got my listening ears on and I’m the bud that’ll help you out of a rut-“

“Oh?” Rebecca snorted, and Ted smiled, her mood already lifted a little, but he desperately wanted her to feel better.

He shook his coffee, the ice cubes rattling around inside as he held it out, “Can I offer you a sippy sip?”

“A sippy sip?” Rebecca raised an eyebrow, and Ted shrugged, though he couldn’t keep the smirk off of his lips. “I appreciate the offer-“

“Awh,” Ted grinned, Rebecca rolling her eyes.

“But I’ll stick with my poison-“ Rebecca took a drag of her cigarette, “of choice.”

“Rumor has it those go straight to the vocal cords.”

“I’ll settle below a high C.” 

Ted wanted to babble, wanted to fill the silence, but Trent had taught him that it paid off to be patient sometimes, that giving space was the best thing to do once in a while, and while Ted loved to talk someone's ear off, it seemed like keep quiet had been the right advice to follow since Rebecca opened her mouth.

“Ted-“

“That’s my name,” Ted smiled, “feel free to wear it out!”

“You know how I happen to sign your paycheck every month?”

“Course?” Ted didn’t know where Rebecca was going with that, but he was along for the ride, “All part of the job for the Boss Babe in- Wait.”

Ted scrunched up his nose, calling Rebecca a babe just plain wrong, even though she was objectively beautiful.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I tried to be Keeley, and I apologize-“

“That’s sweet, but unnecessary. Ted-“ Rebecca put the boot down, moving her legs so she could sit up straight, “Is there something that you find unsatisfactory?”

“What?” Ted felt genuinely confused, Rebecca asking him some strange questions. “You asking if I’m unsatisfied with my paycheck?”

“Mmh.” Rebecca nodded, and Ted blinked. 

He knew he wasn’t the best paid coach in the league, Pep rightfully sitting on that particular throne, but he had never made as much money as he did now.

“No?” Rebecca wasn’t the type to ask trick questions, to set up traps, but Ted still felt a little unsettled. “Not off of the top of my head, no.”

Ted had settled his and Michelle's student debt years ago, the money from Richmond paying off their old mortgage, as well as his Mama’s, Ted giving Michelle the downpayment for her London apartment. 

She hadn’t asked for it, but Ted wanted to make sure she didn’t have to worry, Ted stuffing Henry’s college fund so full that their boy would have his pick of schools around the world.

His job paid so well that Ted had been able to set up retirement accounts, not just for himself, but for Michelle and his Mama too, Ted getting to the point where he was a little unsure what he was supposed to do with the money that just continued to come in each month. 

“You need me to take a pay cut, Boss?” Ted didn’t think that the club was struggling, their ticket sales through the roof, and they were fourth on the chart, sponsors constantly knocking on their doors according to Holly, but maybe-

“Oh Ted.” Rebecca sighs heavily, Ted a little surprised by the disappointment in her voice. “No. No That’s not necessary,” Rebecca smiled, kindness in her eyes, “but thank you for the offer.”  

~~~

Trent took a sip of his wine, the glass of red balancing on the end of the ironing board, a record playing its B side.

It was Thursday evening, and Trent was ironing Ted’s lucky khakis.

Ted hadn’t asked him to iron anything, but they were leaving for Ipswich tomorrow, and Ted hadn’t packed his suitcase yet, so Trent had decided to do it for him, the suitcase in question wiped down and lying open on the bed upstairs.

Trent was a little unsure if he was overstepping, if it was a mistake to do this for Ted, since he hadn’t been asked, Ted usually doing it himself, ironing the khakis apparently a part of Ted’s pre game ritual.

But Ted had been so busy and frazzled lately though, and Trent…

He wanted to help, even if Ted had told him to his face that Trent didn’t need to take care of him.

He wasn’t sure if Ted had meant it, his boyfriend well on his way to a panic attack when he had said it, but…

Ted had used the exact words ‘you don’t need to take care of me’, and how else was Trent supposed to interpret that? 

He could ask for clarification, but he was certainly not going to, another rejection, a rebuff, a request for distance from Ted more than he could currently bear. 

Trent had received a text from Beard about how Richard had been injured, so Trent didn’t expect Ted to come home until late, which was why he was even packing Ted’s suitcase in the first place.

He shouldn’t do it, but…

It was so easy to help Ted, especially with something like this, Ted a certified creature of habit, Trent unpacking enough of Ted’s suitcases and backpacks in the past that he could make sure Ted had what he needed for an away game while blindfolded.

Three pairs of socks, two changes of underwear, a backup pair of trousers, undershirt, t-shirt, Richmond sweater, windbreaker in case it was hot, puffer in case it was cold.

Ted never wore boots, his boyfriend insistent that sneakers were an all weather shoe, Trent packing Ted’s visor and his sunglasses too, even though Ted wouldn’t be wearing it to the match.

The game day setup was easy, but they’d be going directly from Ipswich to their hotel, so Trent had laid out a few options of Ted’s trusted favorites, as well as Ted’s suit and his dress shoes. 

It was a just in case thing, since Rebecca was the one who had booked wherever they were going, Trent packing Ted’s swim trunks and two of Ted’s swim shirts in case the hotel had a spa, Ted oftentimes strangely shy about being undressed or naked in public.

In general, Ted had a tendency to be shy about anything that related to nudity or sex. 

Which was why the large pump bottle of lube was in Trent’s suitcase, instead of in Ted’s, Trent even packing a box of condoms. 

They weren’t necessary, but Trent figured it was a better safe than sorry situation, Trent sure Ted would perish from sheer embarrassment if they accidentally made a mess in a hotel that was Rebecca levels of fancy.

He hoped that Ted would understand that he had packed his suitcase as a gesture of good will, that it was something he had done to help, that it wasn’t an attempt to overstep, but instead to ease Ted’s burdens.

Trent put the iron down, taking another sip of wine, the alcohol soothing the anxiety that bubbled in his gut. 

He hated that he felt nervous, that he was waiting for Ted to come home with a feeling of trepidation, that he…

It felt strange to worry about being misinterpreted by Ted, to feel uncertain around one of the kindest men Trent had ever known but lately…

It was so hard not to do or say the wrong thing, Trent trying to make Ted’s life easier and better, only to end up fucking it all up instead.

Trent knew Ted didn’t mean to act in a hurtful way, that it was unintentional everything single time that he made him feel awful, but that didn’t mean that Trenr wasn’t…

Which was so stupid, and selfish.

It wasn’t Ted’s fault that Trent had made the choices he had, that he was this twisted up mess, that Ted had decided to care for someone as damaged and broken as Trent. 

It wasn’t Ted’s fault that Trent felt like he was constantly in the way, that he was…

Trent put the iron down before grabbing the khakis so he could hold them up for an inspection, the ink stain on the back right pocket confirming that they were indeed the lucky khakis.

They looked great, and ready for Saturday.

Which meant that Trent just needed to clean the soles of Ted’s favorite red sneakers, and then, Ted would be good to go, the practical stuff taken care of, so Ted could concentrate on Richmond.

Trent had just finished folding the trousers, when he heard the front door open, Ted calling out.

“Honey! I’m home!”

The noise made Trent jump, his elbow knocking into the ironing board, the khakis thankfully in his hands as his wine glass tilted, Trent cursing loudly as the liquid spilled everywhere.

~~~

“Here-“ Ted pulled a few sheets off of the paper towel roll, handing the roll itself to Trent as he kneeled down on the floor next to his boyfriend.

The front door hadn’t even closed behind Ted before he heard a loud curse, a crash coming from the living room.

Ted had hurried inside, another string of curses greeting him, Trent standing in the middle of a mess, wine all over the floor and the rug, the ironing board toppled over, Ted making a beeline for the kitchen immediately, his backpack, jacket and shoes still on. 

“Shit,” Trent groaned as he started pressing paper to the rug, soaking up the wine that had yet to sink into the tufted material. “Shit shit shit.”

Trent had told Ted that it was called a persian rug, but Ted just thought of it as the magic carpet. It was longer than Ted was tall, even when he stretched his arms above his head, and big enough that it framed the entirety of the TV area, the rug an integral part of the living room.

“Don’t worry, we’ll fix this.” Ted concentrated on the area around the wineglass itself, the thing thankfully not shattering since it had landed on the rug, liquid all over the floorboards too.

It was easy enough to get the wood clean, Ted making a mental note to himself to come back with a wet cloth as he stuffed the soaked paper towels into the glass.

He really should have grabbed a trash bag too, Trent already making a little tower of crumbled, wine soaked paper, the glass apparently well filled.

Ted wanted to make a joke about Trent getting an early start to the weekend, but Trent was still mumbling under his breath, Ted apparently really messing with him when he had surprised him.

He probably shouldn’t notice right now, since Trent had a massive scowl on his face, his brows knitted together in frustration, but he looked handsome.

Beautiful, even.

Ted hated how he had a tendency to get busy, how he forgot to be in the moment, when he so desperately wanted to live in it, but right here, and right now, he was present with Trent, his boyfriend’s hair falling into his face, Trent’s sleeves bunched up around his elbows.

“Fuck-“ Trent had managed to get the most of the liquid out, but the rug had already stained, the bits of white in the pattern an unfortunate shade of red.

It didn’t look too bad, but it wasn’t great either, Trent radiating annoyance. 

Ted knew how much Isabella liked to lie on her stomach and trace the pattern, her little feet kicking into the air. 

Knew how Trent enjoyed a bit of floor time if he had a particularly bad day, lying on his back while listening to a record usually enough to turn his mood around. 

He knew how Henry liked pushing the couch table to the side to dump all his legos out, Ted determined he’d have time to build something with his boy during Henry’s half term break.

“Good thing the rug’s already half red, huh?”

Ted had expected an exasperated sigh, an eye roll, for Trent to pinch him or at least tell him to shut up, Trent a master at sounding affectionate while instructing Ted to stuff it, but Ted didn’t get anything at all.

Trent was ignoring him, didn’t even acknowledge that Ted had spoken, which was as weird as it was unsettling.

“Hey,” Ted didn’t reach out, Trent still blotting the rug, Trent very clearly off in his own head, and Ted didn’t want to startle him again, didn’t want to make the funk worse, but he didn’t like this distance between them, especially when it was a mental distance, “it was just an accident, right?” 

Ted tried to keep his tone gentle, to remind Trent that everyone made mistakes and that he didn’t have to be so hard on himself.

“Accidents happen.”

They were sitting so closely that Ted could easily bump their heads together, Ted almost doing it, the urge to rub up against Trent like an affectionate cat or a puppy, the want to woof bubbling within him.

It felt insane to crave Trent’s attention in their current situation, especially when they were in the situation because Ted had scared Trent, which Ted did feel bad about, in case anyone needed to jot it down for the record.

“Trent?”

“The last time-“ Trent wasn’t looking at Ted, his voice filled with barely restrained annoyance, “Isabella threw ribena on this,” Trent crumpled the paper towel in his hand, throwing it to the rest of the mess, “I had to pay 50 pounds just for the carpet crew to show up-”

“Yikes.” Ted cringed, a 50 pounds service charge daylight robbery, Ted still struggling to get used to the surcharges of living in a London suburb, Ted well aware that he’d know a guy who knew a guy that knew a guy back in Kansas. “That’s a bit steep.”

It was just an observation, a simple statement, but Ted felt the entire mood of the room shift.

“Well, no one asked you-“ Trent snapped, “to pitch in.”

Ted sat back on his heel, a little surprised at the venom in Trent’s tone, Trent acting as if Ted had said something mean. 

Which he very much hadn’t.

It was normal for Trent to have fits of irritation, but it was rare for those bursts of emotions to affect Ted negatively, but maybe, Trent was more frustrated than what Ted had first assumed, Trent very possessive about his possessions.

“I’ll be back.” Ted got off of the floor, shedding his backpack and jacket as he made his way back to the kitchen, Ted making a quick vinegar and warm water mix.

It wasn’t guaranteed to work, but it was a trick his Gamgam had shown him when he was little, his paternal Grandmother a superhero when it came to removing stains. 

Ted made his way back to the living room, careful not to spill as he nudged Trent with his foot, Trent moving out of the way, his back against the couch, one leg pulled up.

“I hope you’re ready to be amazed,” Ted kneeled down, a quick smile in Trent’s direction not enough to lighten the mood completely, but Ted swore he felt Trent relax a little, his shoulders lowering.

There was every chance it would just make everything worse, but Trent usually loved his stories, so Ted started blabbering away about this spaghetti party they had attended when Henry had just started school.

Henry had, as one could predict from the context of the story, spilled his plate all over the carpet when he attempted to get away from his cousin Dennis, but Ted had fixed that right up too.

“There ain’t nothing out there you can’t get out with a little bit of elbow grease, or, in the context of that tomato stain, some Oxiclean.”

Ted grabbed the roll of paper towels, carefully dapping it on the stains, the last of the red wine finally lifting.

“Aha!” Ted grinned, turning towards Trent, “ would you look at that, almost as good as new!”

“Thank you Theodore…” Trent had his arms around his leg, holding it to his chest as he watched Ted. 

“It still has a bit of a tint, so if you’re bothered-“ Ted made sure to put on his British accent and butcher the word as best he could, which finally earned him a small smile from Trent, “I’ll order some Oxi off of Amazon.”

Ted halfway expected Trent to tell him not to use Amazon, Trent never shy when it came to repeating his rant about how Jeff Bezos was the closest thing the world had to a supervillain, and that it was morally wrong to use Amazon, but Trent didn’t start ranting.

Ted opened his mouth, a real sense of concern in his belly, Trent’s name leaving his mouth at the exact same time that Trent said his.

“Ha,” Ted grinned, “sounds like we got a two voices, different songs going on. You want to harmonize, or should we-“

“Ted-“ 

Ted immediately shut up, Trent looking at him as he pushed his glasses into his hair, Ted moving so they were facing each other, Trent’s outstretched foot right by Ted’s thigh.

“I’m…” Trent took a minute, Ted eagerly waiting, Trent deserving of all of the attention, “sorry.”

It looked like a sorry that pained him to say, Ted about to ask why he was sorry, when Trent continued.

“I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

“Oh that?” Ted had already forgotten about that, Trent at his prickliest, nothing compared to what Ted had regularly endured because of his chosen career. “That’s alright sugar cube.” Ted reached out, putting a hand on Trent’s shin.

“That doesn’t make my reaction okay. I shouldn’t have taken my frustration out on you.”

“I swear everything’s all fine and dandy buttercup.” Ted squeezed Trent’s shin. “I know you’re sensitive about your stuff-“

Trent took a breath in, his expression pinched for the quickest seconds before his features smoothed out again, Ted unsure what he had done or said wrong this time around.

“Trent-“

“You’re right that I am… Sensitive,” Trent clearly didn’t like saying the word, “about my stuff, and I apologize.”

“You don’t got nothing to be sorry for.” Ted felt a bit like he was in an alternate universe, Trent obviously hurt, and yet, he was the one apologizing to Ted, who felt completely fine. “I bet you and this rug got a bunch of history.” 

“We do.” Trent nodded. “I bought it for my first real flat when I was 22.”

“Yeah?” Ted smiled, the rug older than Henry, which fit perfectly with the man Ted knew and loved. 

It was something Ted truly admired about Trent, how he picked things he loved and continued to love them, how he put value on quality over quantity, how shopping local actually mattered to him, Trent never minding waiting when what he wanted wasn’t convenient. 

Which had taken some getting used to because of Ted’s American sensibilities.

“I didn’t even have a sofa, or anywhere to put it, but I saw it at a market and I just- I had to have it.”

Trent shrugged, and Ted started moving his thumb, slowly rubbing up and down, petting Trent.

“It was the entirety of my food budget, but I didn’t care.“

“That sounds like you.” Ted smiled, “Ain’t nothing keeping Trent Crimm from what he wants,” Ted leaned in, finally getting his hello kiss, Trent’s lips soft and perfect, Trent the coolest, most determined person Ted knew, “even when it’s a bad financial decision.”

It was meant to be a joke, Ted only intending to poke fun at how Trent had done what every young adult did, but Trent was apparently still sensitive about the wine stain, because he pulled back, Trent moving away from Ted with lightning speed.

“Trent-“

“I need to wash my hands.”

Trent had shot off of the floor before Ted could apologize, or tell Trent about the time he had picked a pair of Nikes over getting the textbook for his Psychology 101 course, but Trent was already gone, Ted left behind on the floor.

“Well fuck me.” Ted didn’t normally swear, but this felt like a swearing moment, Ted beyond grateful that they had a hotel stay ahead of them, since they obviously needed to reconnect and relax.

~~~

Trent splashed another round of water in his face, the cold helping him to calm down.

He had gone upstairs, and shed his sweater on the way, Trent considering if he should change his t-shirt too, water dribbling down, the neck all wet, but he had been…

It was so typical of him to act this way, to behave like such an idiot, to think that he-

Ted didn’t mean to, and he should just-

He should just tell Ted that he had hurt-

Trent tightened his grip on the sink, fingers digging into the porcelain.

He couldn’t tell Ted that he had hurt him, couldn’t demand to be comforted, couldn’t ask Ted to-

Trent was being stupid, and selfish, and egotistical, and-

He couldn’t think this way, couldn’t allow his brain to get swooped up in a pity spiral, Trent already feeling plenty pathetic.

He took a deep breath, the discomfort slowly easing.

It was all okay. Everything was okay.

Except…

Trent hated how Ted had accidentally told him what he thought of him, that Trent was expected to be some kind of angry monster, that he snapped so often that it was to be expected, that he was sensitive, that he was…

That he didn’t-

Fuck it hurt, Trent looking up at the ceiling, blinking to hold back stubborn tears, since he refused to cry.

Ted hadn’t actually called Trent financially irresponsible, but it had been way too close for comfort, Trent swallowing around his hurt and defeat, his stupid heart aching.

Trent knew he had monetary issues, that he made choices that weren’t always sustainable, but Ted didn’t have to remind him, didn’t have to- 

This was Trent’s own fault. It was typical of him to set himself up for failure, to let things that shouldn’t affect him in.

Keeley had told him yesterday that he should tell Ted about the state of his bank account, and Trent had been under the delusion that it was something he was ready to share, but then…

Ted likely hadn’t meant to sound judgemental, Trent so well aware of how Ted valued curiosity and compassion above all else, but he had heard Ted’s tone when Trent had mentioned getting a carpet cleaner to come take care of the mess.

Had heard the way Ted had called him…

Trent swallowed again, another deep breath allowing him to recalibrate his brain.

The glass of wine had been a mistake in more ways than one, Trent obviously overreacting, the way he was feeling proof of how… Well… Sensitive, he was.

Trent couldn’t afford to be sensitive.

So he just had to get over it.

Trent hadn’t done it in years, but he imagined grabbing the hurt with his hands, digging into his own chest and scooping out the emotion. 

He held it, palms overflowing, the black blob wiggling to get away, but Trent refused to let it go. He imagined an old fashioned bank safe, Trent throwing the emotion in there before quickly closing the door, the lock clicking.

The hurt rattled around inside, fighting to get out, but Trent imagined holding the door closed, another deep breath bringing him back to himself.

He could still feel it, the hurt lingered, but he was okay for now.

He’d be okay.

Now, he just needed to put up his hair, change out his shirt and throw on a smile, so Ted didn’t have to worry about him, Trent ready to actually play his part, to fulfill his role in Ted’s life.

He wanted to be the partner Ted deserved, Trent there to help and support, to protect and care for Ted.

He wasn’t supposed to be a burden, a source of worry, and Trent would make sure that he was worth keeping, that Ted would know that life was better with Trent than without him.

Even if it killed him.

Chapter Text

Ted felt his tongue peek out the corner of his mouth, as he oh so carefully carried Trent’s teapot into the living room.

He didn’t usually cradle it like a newborn, but Ted was honestly afraid that Trent would start crying if he dropped it on today of all days.

Trent had stalked off to the upstairs bathroom, Ted at first waiting for him to return so he could ask what was going on, but Trent didn’t come back, Ted’s mild discontent turning to genuine worry.

Which was why he had decked out the couch table with its current setup.

Ted carefully placed the tea pot, the steaming hot ceramic the last brushstroke on his masterpiece.

He had made the ultimate talk support table, a bottle of whiskey and tequila right next to the opened red wine, Ted finding all of the corresponding glasses. He had made tea and coffee and poured a jug of water. He had even found two protein bars and a packet of chips.

Ted hoped it wouldn’t be necessary, but he expected that the bottle of tequila would come in handy, Trent a master at evading questions and subjects he didn’t want to discuss, but Ted was determined that they’d talk, that he’d find out what was going on with his boyfriend.

“What’s this?”

Ted turned, Trent standing at the bottom of the stairs. He had put his hair up in a bun, and changed his shirt, Ted’s stomach clenching at the change of wardrobe.

Trent had obviously skulked off to the bathroom to splash water on his face, Ted sure his neck would be damp if he checked it, the calm down technique one he knew intimately well.  

“I made you,” Ted took a step to the side, gesturing to the table, “an assortment of verbal lubricants.”

Trent blinked, his mouth falling open. His eyes narrowed, and Ted was this close to squirming, when Trent’s nostrils flared. “Lubricants?”

“Tada!” Ted couldn’t help but do jazz hands, Trent’s eyes widening, Ted sure he would enjoy Trent’s face journey under any other circumstances, Trent visiting every square inch of the feelings wheel.

“Why did you-“ 

“Come sit.” Ted dumped down on the couch, padding the cushion next to him, but Trent didn’t move.

Ted tried to wait it out, but he was bubbling with anticipation and anxiety and worry, and Trent was just watching him.

“You’re acting like I’m about to take you to the vet.”

Ted took a moment to imagine Trent in a giant carrier case. He’d be hopping mad, hissing and spitting all over the place, like an angry little kitten, Ted beyond amused at the idea.

“I don’t understand what’s going on”

“Well, we obviously needa talk, so I’m trying to make it as painless as possible.”

“By providing tequila?” Trent’s nose wrinkled with disdain, Ted reminded of how adorable Trent could be when he was grumpy.

“My Ubereats isn’t here yet with the vanilla vodka.”

Ted had meant it as a joke, meant to lighten the mood by reminding Trent of how their last big conversation had only really happened because of alcohol, but instead of smiling, or rolling his eyes, or calling Ted Theodore, Trent winched, hurt flashing across his face.

It was the last reaction Ted expected, and it confirmed to him that something was really, truly, wrong.

“Trent.” Ted lowered his voice, softening it too, “Please. Talk to me.”

Trent took a step, but stopped.

“Baby.”

“Don’t call me that.” Trent didn’t exactly snap, but he sounded rattled and unsure, an unsure Trent Crimm as fundamentally wrong as if the sun decided to rise in the west.

“See!” Ted gestured to Trent with both hands, “This is exactly what I mean. Something has to be wrong. You usually love it” okay, maybe, Trent loved it like, 80% of the time, “when I call you my baby girl, or boy, or-“

“Ted-“ Trent groaned, annoyance inching into his voice, but Ted wasn’t afraid of that, Trent’s irritation as familiar and comforting to him as a hot cup of cocoa on a cold winter day. “Please-“

“Can’t you see that we’re all outta whack?” Ted knew he had a pleading note to his voice, but he didn’t mind begging if that was what was needed. “We’re not on the same page, and I may be a coward when it comes to ripping the bandaid off with Michelle, but I can’t risk our talking wound getting infected-“

“Urgh,” Trent made a disgruntled noise, “Why would you pick that as your metaphor?”

Ted knew Trent was trying to lure him in, to tempt him into getting sidetracked, but it was like Ted had resurfaced after being stuck underwater for way too long, like he was seeing clearly for the first time in…

Well, months.

“You’re too important to me Trent, and I love you,” Ted put as much conviction into it as he could, his love for Trent practically burning in his chest as it gave him courage, “and something is clearly wrong, so pick your lube.”

Trent huffed, but he also came over to sit down, Ted noticing with a hint of satisfaction that Trent had indeed splashed water on his face, the little baby hairs around his ear all damp.

He waited, but Trent didn’t reach for any of the offerings on the table, Trent apparently more than content to just watch Ted, to look at him and wait him out.

“Any day now.” Ted had the capacity to be patient, but he also knew that he didn’t stand a chance against Trent.

“I’ll have a cup of tea.”

“Good.” Ted grabbed the tea pot, carefully lifting it up. He has left the tea bags in, Ted throwing a handful in there, but that shouldn’t be a problem. “With or without whiskey?”

“Without, you heathen.”

“Fair enough.” Ted smiled, something settling inside of him as he poured a cup. He shouldn’t be thrilled about Trent calling him a heathen, but Trent managed to make idiot sound like a term of endearment, the banter as important to their relationship as their kisses. 

“Here.” Ted handed Trent the cup, Ted making himself a triple whiskey. He heard Trent wince when he tasted the tea, Ted unsure if he should have brought sugar, but he wasn’t going to get off of the couch and risk Trent running off.

Physically or metaphorically.

Ted moved so he had his back against the armrest, one leg up on the couch, the whiskey in his hand. “What’s going on with you Trent?”

“That is a very broad yet direct question.”

Ted wanted to kiss Trent, his boyfriend so smart and philosophical, but now wasn’t the time, Ted sure Trent knew what he was doing. 

“You’re wiggling.”

“I’m not wiggling.” Trent wrinkled his nose again, but Ted was like a dog with a bone.

“What are you avoiding?”

“In general?”

“Trent.” Ted didn’t whine, but it was a damned near thing, Trent infuriating.

“I don’t know what you want from me.”

“I want to have a conversation about why your face does what it literally just did, the-“ Ted did his best to copy the flash of hurt, the sharp intake of breath, and he immediately saw it come across Trent’s features.

“There!” Ted pointed at Trent, “There, right there! That one!”

“I-“ Trent blinked, unable to hide it, Ted’s heart aching with the discomfort and pain on Trent’s beautiful face.

“Please Trent. Talk to me.”

Trent put his teacup down, his arms crossing as he leaned back, Trent against the armrest too.

Ted knew he should consider it a victory that Trent hadn’t left, that he was still there, but Ted could feel his own anxiety rise, fear prickling under his skin.

This wasn’t about him though. Couldn’t be about him, so Ted made a rash decision.

“We’re doing a shot.” He put his glass down, the cap off the bottle before Trent could protest.

“Ted-“

Ted poured two shot glasses full.

“I don’t want-“

“You-“ Ted didn’t bother putting the cap back on, “are doing this.” Ted grabbed the glasses, holding them out. “You want left or right?”

“Neither.”

“Trent, we have to talk about what’s going on, and if we can’t do it sober, we have to do it drunk.”

“You’re insane.”

“Insane about you.” Ted smiled, “Here.” Ted handed Trent the right glass, Trent thankfully taking it. “Now drink it.”

“Or you’ll pull my pigtail?” Trent’s voice was filled with sarcasm, but Ted could hear the hesitation, the want to give in, the need for this conversation to happen, so he continued to push. 

“Take the shot Trent.”

“Fine!” Trent growled, but did as Ted said, throwing his head back as he dunked the shot, Ted following right behind him.

“Wowza!” Ted shook his head. “Uh that burns!”

“One more!” Ted grabbed the bottle, and poured for both of them.

“Cheers!” He knocked it back before Trent could protest. Ted had done several shots earlier in the week, Beard somehow demolishing him in Smash Bros, but Ted didn’t remember it being this bad.

“It is,” Trent wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, Trent taking the second shot too, “distinctly unpleasant,” he put his glass down, Ted doing the same thing. “Makes you wish for the vodka.”

“Why were you making that face Trent?”

“Now I really wish we had the vodka.” Trent crossed his arms once more, but he met Ted’s eyes, his gaze hard and a little mean, which was what Ted needed.

“Answer my question.”

“You shouldn’t have to concern yourself with me and my issues Ted.”

Ted wanted to tackle Trent, wanted to wrestle him and bite him and hold him down and make him understand that he was being an idiot, that he couldn’t escape, that Ted wasn’t going to let this go, that they’d figure this out together.

"I want to concern myself with you, you're my concern. I love you.”

“You have more important things to-“ Trent had pulled his leg up, hugging it to his chest.

“I don’t.”

“You do Ted, and that’s okay,” Trent said it like it was a fact, “I don’t need to be-“ 

Trent cut himself off, the flash of hurt there again, Ted’s heart skipping a beat at how vulnerable, how raw and broken Trent looked.

“You don’t need to be what?”

“Don’t make me say what we both know.” Trent spoke so softly Ted could barely hear him.

“I don’t know what you know, and I don’t think you know anything about what I think that you think that we have apparently agreed on.”

“What?” Trent blinked, the alcohol clearly getting to him, “I don’t-“

“You know, that I know-“ Ted tried to remember what he had just said, but he felt warm and loose.

“Ted, I was on my second glass of wine when you came home, can we speak plainly-“

“Right.” Ted clicked his tongue. “Right right right. Let me do one more, so we’re on the same level-“

Ted reached for the bottle again, but Trent snatched it before he could get it.

“Ted!” Trent sounded genuinely outraged. “You have work tomorrow. The squad needs you-“

“Screw the squad.”

“Ted!” Trent somehow sounded even more outraged, his eyes wide, “you take that back-“

“No. Not when something is going on with you- I don’t care about work tomorrow-“

Ted would quit his job if it meant that Trent didn’t look so hurt, if he could understand what was happening- 

“You need to-“

“And I especially don’t care, when I should have noticed that you’re not okay-“

“Don’t blame yourself-“ Trent gasped, eyes going wide, Ted almost fistpumping, Trent finally tripping up.

“So something is going on?”

“No, yes. No, it’s-“ Trent looked kind of desperate. “Listen, Ted, you’ve been incredibly busy, and I understand that. I know what I agreed to when I tried to woo you-“

“Awh.” Ted almost put a hand on his heart, Trent’s choice of word making him ache with affection and love, Trent the most perfect- Wait. Ted paused, Trent’s words fully registering.

“Wait.” Ted went up on his knees, balancing on the couch, Ted on the middle cushion while Trent was trapped in the corner. “Wait wait wait. Know what you agreed to? Know what you agreed to what?”

“You’re a Premier League gaffer Ted. It’s a demanding career that requires certain sacrifices. It’s inevitable that you’d have to shift focus for extended periods of time-“

It was incredible how Trent somehow managed to become even more eloquent when he was under the influence, Ted working hard to keep up with his convoluted sentences.

“and as your partner, it’s expected that I-“

“It’s expected that you what?” Ted felt his stomach clench, his chest tight. 

“Take a step back, remember my priority in your life-“

Ted felt like he had been stabbed with a knife. 

“I’ve signed up for this Ted, I gave my consent, I know my place, I just forgot momentarily, but I’m finding my way back-“

Ted swore he could feel the blood gushing out of him.

“I just need time to adjust. I understand why you do what you do-“

Ted had never felt this guilty in his entire life, not around Michelle, not around Henry, hell, he didn’t even feel this guilty around his Mama.

“Am I neglecting you?” Ted almost couldn’t say the word. 

“Don’t be so dramatic.” Trent scoffed. “You’re not neglecting me.”

“But I am.” Ted wanted to travel back in time, and punch himself in the face, or maybe the dick. At the very least, he deserved to get shaken violently, Trent finally honest with him.

“You’re not. I have simply been mismanaging my emotions, and placed unfair expectations on you-“

“This is so much worse than I thought.”

Ted knew he hadn’t been as attentive to Trent as he probably should, that life has thrown so many obstacles at him that he had been running from one fire to the next, trying to put them out before they could spread.

“It’s not. It’s not Ted, I just need- I’m still recalibrating, and I just-“

Ted had felt like he had been drowning since December, Trent the raft that had kept him afloat, but maybe, he had been pulling Trent under water too with all lf his fucked up bullshit. 

“Recalibrating what?”

“Ted-“ Trent sounded so small, and he was so obviously uncomfortable, but Ted had to push, had to get to the bottom of this mess.

“Recalibraring what?”

“My idea of my place in your life.”

Ted hadn’t just been stabbed. He had been shot.

“What?” Ted nearly choked on the word, but he had to get it out, had to hold it together. 

“It’s stupid, I’m stupid-“

“You’re not stupid-“ Trent should never be allowed to call himself stupid, Trent the smartest, most-

“I should have figured it out on my own, and I-“

“Trent-“ Ted didn’t feel the telltale signs of a panic attack, but he did feel like he was stuck in molasses, Trent so obviously hurt, and it was all Ted’s fault.

“Don’t force me to talk about this Ted.” Trent looked directly at Ted, Ted thrown off by the fact that Trent was still wearing his glasses, that he hadn’t taken them off yet. “I’ll figure it out, I’ll be good, I’ll be worth keeping, just, give me a chance-“

At the word keeping, Ted felt a memory force itself into his head. Trent had said the exact same thing back in November, when he had come into the office, all frantic and panicked after Roy had shared his email, Trent begging Ted to keep him.

“You said that before.” Ted hadn’t put note on it back then, had thought it was just Trent freaking out and blabbering, but maybe- “Do you not think you’re worth keeping?”

Trent looked down, and Ted felt his heart break apart.

“Baby-“ Ted reached out, touching Trent’s arm, moving closer-

“Don’t-“ Trent had pulled into himself, his shoulders hunched, “You don’t need my difficulties on your plate-“

“So you do have difficulties?” Ted could keep this all together, could get the answers he needed out of Trent.

“I have consequences of actions that I willingly took.”

“Really?” Ted groaned, Trent infuriating. “How does anyone ever argue with you? You’re harder to get an answer out of than a politician.”

“I want it noted that I take great offense to that.” The words sounded like Trent, but the body language was all wrong. Wrong wrong wrong. 

“You’re slithering away again.”

“I don’t need-“ Trent looked up, his tone harsh and sharp, his words loaded with steel, “to be humiliated.”

“Who’s humiliating you?”

Trent’s eyes widened, a sharp intake of breath betraying that Trent had said something he hadn’t meant to, that he had miscalculated his words.

“Trent.”

Ted had to know, had to find out why Trent felt humiliated.

“Trent.”

Trent didn’t reply, but he didn’t look away either, their eyes locked together, and slowly, way too slowly, Ted always too slow, he managed to put it together.

“No…”

He was the reason Trent felt humiliated, and Ted wanted to die.

~~~

“Ted.” Trent knew his voice broke before he could finish saying Ted’s name, but he hated everything that he had just shared.

Everything he had been forced to confess.

He hated this conversation, hated the look on Ted’s face, hated himself, hated the harm he was causing-

“Please.”

Trent wanted to beg for forgiveness, wanted to get on his knees and plead for Ted to forget what he had said, wanted all of this to have never happened.

Wanted them to go back to what they were, to a time where Trent hadn’t admitted his greatest failure.

“I’m sorry.”

He shouldn’t have said that Ted made him feel humiliated, shouldn’t have shared it even if it was the truth, all of this a terrible mistake.

“I’m so sorry-“

Trent moved, no longer able to stomach sitting on the couch, getting up since being on Ted’s level was not something he deserved.

Ted didn’t fully react, his face still slack, eyes still wide. 

Trent wanted to run, wanted to leave, wanted to disappear, but he couldn’t.

Not if it meant abandoning Ted.

Trent knew he had to look stupid standing up, that he was hovering by the couch, but he couldn’t sit anymore.

“Trent-“ Ted reached out, Trent folding under the unmistakable hurt in Ted’s voice, his need for distance melting away at Ted’s obvious need for contact.

“Ted,” Trent tried to keep himself under control. 

“I’m here.” He took a step forward, allowing Ted to hook two fingers in his empty belt hoop. “I shouldn’t have said any of that-“

Trent reached out, gently, oh so gently, running his fingers through Ted’s hair.

“It’s all my fault-“

“How,” Ted looked up at him, brown eyes so gigantic Trent felt like he could drown in them, “can it be your fault that I make you feel humiliated?”

“That’s not-“ Trent swallowed, Trent throwing his own words back at him downright painful.

He never should have agreed to the tequila, his hands clumsy as he petted Ted.

“It’s okay.”

“How can you say that?”

“I’m just struggling to compartmentalize my emotions-“

“What?” Ted pulled back, tucking Trent with him, Trent’s shins hitting the sofa.

“It means to separate-“

“I know what compartmentalize mean,” Ted’s nostrils flared, “but why would that be necessary-“

Ted’s tone was so serious, so flat. It had been forever since he made a joke, and Trent couldn’t handle the pressure, couldn’t deal with this version of his boyfriend, his Ted barely in there at all.

“I never should have allowed this to be a discussion-“

“Well we’re doing this anyway-“

Ted pulled away fully, and Trent felt like he had been left alone at sea, abandoned and adrift, Ted standing up too. 

“Do you think I want to humiliate you?”

“No.” Trent couldn’t look at Ted. He knew Ted didn’t mean to, didn’t intend, but-

“Look at me.”

“No…” Trent was being such a coward, a hypocrite, a failure, but he couldn’t-

“Tell me the truth.”

“You don’t intend to,” Ted had shed his shoes at some point, Trent noting that there was the beginning of a hole by his big toe, Trent making a mental note that he needed to go through Ted’s socks soon, “That’s what counts-“

“That’s what counts?”

Ted sounded… Almost angry, but Trent couldn’t look up, his shoulders locked, his stomach molten lava.

He felt like a child.

A stupid, helpless little child.

“You’re not responsible for my reactions-“

“That’s such a load of baloney.” Ted moved forward, and Trent moved back, keeping the distance between them, an actual whimper falling from his lips, memories resurfacing in a way they had never done around Ted before.

Trent had acted on instinct, on core experiences, and right now, they were telling him that no man, not even Ted, was safe.

He knew Ted wouldn’t hurt him, knew he’d never do something so cruel, but Trent…

Trent was scared.

“Trent-“ Ted sounded so hurt that Trent had to look up, that he had to check if Ted was okay, but he never should have done that.

Ted looked devastated, his eyes filled with so much pain that Trent was surprised he hadn’t had a panic attack yet, or ran away.

That he was trying to reason, to talk, instead of flipping into fight and flight.

“Tell me what I’m-“

“No.” Trent shook his head. He couldn’t do that to Ted, couldn’t hurt him more than he already had, Trent for once unsure if he was the one who was about to have the panic attack.

He could definitely feel his hands shake, the alcohol threatening to make a reappearance, bile in his throat. 

“Don’t say no.”

“Ted,” Trent summoned all of the courage he could, using the love he had for Ted to keep it together long enough to look at his boyfriend, a pleading tone in his own voice as he finally managed to open his mouth- “talking about this isn’t fair to you-“

“Tell me,” Ted had a level of steel in his voice that Trent barely recognised, “how I humiliate you.”

Trent felt like he had been slapped, all of his effort for naught.

“Tell me how-“

“I need some water.”

Trent turned on his heels, ignoring the jug on the table. He stalked into the kitchen, grabbing the first glass he saw which was the wine glass from earlier, turning on the tap as he heard Ted follow him.

“Trent-“

Ted sounded desperate, and Trent hated himself, hated how he was doing this to Ted, hated how Ted couldn’t just leave him alone.

He raised the glass to his lips, gulping down the water, the lukewarm liquid not helping at all.

Trent swallowed the last of it, but as soon as he had done that, he felt Ted reach past him, his boyfriend turning off the water.

“Tell me-“ They were standing so close, chest to chest, Ted’s nose practically touching Trent’s. “How I humiliate you.”

Trent didn’t mean to, but he felt a flash of anger, his temper flaring, Ted hunting him like he was an animal.

“You’re doing it right now!” Trent dropped the glass into the sink, the thing thankfully not shattering as he stepped back, Ted all up in his space, in his feelings, in his stupid, selfish, cowardly-

“… What?”

“You’re hounding me!” Trent didn’t want to raise his voice, but he was at his wits ends, “You’re forcing me to admit that I’m struggling to be content, and it’s not-“

He didn’t want to cry. He refused to cry. He wasn’t a person that cried.

“I’m trying so hard, and you can’t even allow me the dignity of suffering in silence-“

“You’re suffering?” 

Trent couldn’t look at Ted, Ted so vulnerable and raw, Trent sure he was broken apart, and it was his fault.

All of this was his fault.

“I’m managing.” Trent knew he was pathetic, that he should be able to do this on his own, “I’ll find a way, just, please- Leave me alone.”

“I can’t do that-“

“All I’m asking for is time-“

Trent knew Ted loved him, knew Ted loved him so much, so Trent just needed time to soothe his hurt feelings, needed time to let his heart know where in the hierarchy that it belonged, needed time to deal with the consequences of his stupid financial decision.

He could do all of that, if Ted would just leave him alone. 

“I don’t understand.”

Trent could hear that Ted was suffering, and if Ted would just stop talking about Trent, he could help him.

He could soothe his hurt, could take care of Ted, could make him feel okay as soon as he got his own emotions sorted out.

“I’ll get it under control Ted-“

“Get what under control?”

“I know you’re doing everything you can-“

“No, try again. Tell me the truth.”

Trent wanted to cry, Ted making him feel so small and useless and worthless.

“Trent-“

Trent knew he had to reply, knew that he had to say something, anything, to make Ted back off.

“Ted, I don’t have to be a priority for you-“

Trent had hoped he had said the right thing, that he had reassured Ted that everything was okay, but instead, he heard Ted say a choked,

“I need to sit down-“

~~~

Ted managed to get down before he fell over, his ears ringing loudly, his limbs all rubbery and bending, his stomach liquid.

He wasn’t about to have a panic attack, but he felt like he was free falling through space, like he had been sucked into the darkness.

“Ted?” Trent had kneeled down in front of him, hands coming to rest on his thighs, fingers squeezing into flesh, ground him, anchoring him to the earth. “You’re okay.”

It was just a whisper, but Ted looked up, looked at his Trent.

His beautiful, perfect, and apparently, broken, Trent.

And it was Ted who had done the breaking.

Trent had stood in front of him, and apologized for the fact that he was struggling.

Had…

Oh God.

Ted was a monster.

“Sssh…” Ted hadn’t even noticed that he had started crying, but Trent was there, carefully wiping his tears away with his hand. “You’re okay.”

“I’m not-“ Ted shook his head. He wasn’t having a panic attack, and Trent shouldn’t- 

“What do you need Ted?” Trent’s voice was so gentle, so sweet and kind, and it wasn’t fair.

Ted had been so blind, so… Willfully ignorant, and he didn’t deserve, didn’t-

“I’m going to hug you.”

Ted felt arms come around him, Trent pulling him in and cradling his head against his shoulder, and Ted let out a sob.

It was so unfair that Trent was taking care of him, even now, that he was the one offering Ted comfort when he had-

When he had been nothing less than cruel.

Ted thought he had made Trent a priority, that he had been a good boyfriend, a good partner. 

He had come back for Trent, and he wanted to go the distance, wanted to grow old with Trent and share his life with Trent, wanted to wake up next to him and fall asleep cuddled up together.

Ted tried to do the little things, make Trent coffee and keep their house clean, to remember to say I love you and mean it each time he said it.

They had their date nights, and Ted had felt so proud of that, confident in the fact that he took time for his partner, but date night was two Mondays a month, and was that really all that Trent deserved?

Ted had been so caught up in his own shit, in his own exhaustion and pain and worry that he could barely even remember the last time he had paid complete attention to Trent.

“Ted?” Trent whispered in his ear, one hand stroking his back, while the other held his neck. “Nod if you’re okay, just- please- this feels different, and I don’t- I don’t know what’s happening to you, so please, just nod if you can-“

Ted nodded, and Trent tightened his grip, a sigh of relief leaving him. 

“Good, good.” Trent pressed his lips against the crown of Ted’s head, giving it a kiss in the same spot he always did. “You’re okay. I’m here.”

Ted couldn’t really see anything, his face squashed against Trent’s neck, Trent keeping him safe, cradling him in his arms.

He had no idea where he had gone, how he had been so blind, but Ted felt like he was seeing Trent clearly for the first time since…

Well, since December.

Since Michelle had called and asked Ted to spend Christmas with her and Henry.

Since Ted had made the decision that it was more important to please Michelle and Henry, than it was to keep his promise to Trent.

He hadn’t meant to be cruel, hadn’t- But he had been cruel.

He had also been so stressed he felt like his head would pop off, but that wasn’t an excuse.

Christmas had worked out, Ted blessed with the memories of holding hands with Trent on Michelle’s couch while Henry opened presents, but that had only come to be a reality because Trent had stepped aside, because he had accepted that Henry needed to come first.

Ted loved that about Trent, loved how he loved their kids, loved how Trent knew that Henry had to take up space, but that didn’t mean-

It didn’t mean that Trent’s needs weren’t important too.

That Trent shouldn’t be a priority.

Ted hated that it had taken him this long to figure out, but he had somehow made the choice to place the needs of his ex wife above what his boyfriend needed, this whole parenting debacle with Michelle taking up so much of his mental real estate that he hadn’t even noticed how much Trent was struggling.

That he hadn’t even noticed how much Trent was hurting.

Hurting because of Ted.

Another round of fresh tears forced their way out of his eyes, and Ted burrowed further down into Trent’s neck, hiding away.

Ted hadn’t even considered January, and then, with Henry’s acting out and everything that had happened in February, he had barely had a moment to breathe-

But that didn’t make his actions okay.

It didn’t excuse how he had put Trent on the backburner, how he had forgotten to cherish one of the most precious things he had.

Ted felt so guilty, so hopelessly ignorant, so undeserving of compassion, and yet…

Trent was there, loving him and caring for him, holding him as he attempted to process the consequences of his actions, to understand the way his carelessness had affected the man he loved.

Ted wanted to say sorry, but it didn’t feel like enough, couldn’t be enough with actions to back it up, so instead, he pressed his lips to Trent’s neck, putting his arms around him too, Trent’s shoulders lovering in relief when Ted gave him a squeeze.

He wasn’t sure how, but Ted was determined that he’d fix this, that he’d be the man Trent deserved, and that Trent would never, ever, ever, ever need to feel humiliated again because of something Ted had said or done.

Chapter Text

“Mmh.” Trent took a bite of his ice cream. It was cold, almost too cold, but his left hand was warm, Ted holding it tight in his right as they walked down the street.

It had been a spur of the moment decision, a panicked response, but Trent had taken one proper look at Ted’s tear streaked and puffy face, before asking if he wanted to go for a walk.

Ted had laughed at him, wiping the snot from his nose with the back of his hand while nodding, Trent so relieved that his Ted was still intact, still whole and in there behind the tears. 

The change of scenery had turned out to be the right medicine for both of them, Trent feeling a lot more calm and centered as they walked down the street.

“Got what you wanted?” Ted looked over at Trent, his boyfriend giving his hand the tiniest squeeze.

It had, to no one's surprise, been Ted’s idea that they made a pit stop at the petrol station, Ted insisting that ice cream was a year around food.

Trent wasn’t too sure that he agreed, especially when they hadn’t even had dinner yet, but neither of them were children, and Trent hadn’t been interested in kicking up a fuss.

Besides, it was always amusing to watch Ted chit chat at a terrified teenager, the poor guy behind the counter obviously recognising Ted as he had rung them up.

“I’m satisfied with my choice.” Trent had picked a magnum with almonds, while Ted had gone for a Twister, the thing terribly phallic, especially when it was just… Shoved into Ted’s mouth.

When his tongue came out to lick away the droplets.

When he made those small sounds of satisfaction.

Two hours ago, Trent had felt like he’d never get erect again, his body a numb mess of emotions, but he was at Ted’s mercy, his boyfriend obviously playing him, Trent seeing the mischief in Ted’s eyes and the smirk on his lips when he had glanced at him.

It was as infuriating as it was hot, but Trent refused to find himself aroused on the street, so he looked away, Ted chuckling at him, though he kept their fingers tightly intertwined.

He had no idea where they were going, Trent simply following Ted, but it didn’t matter to Trent where they were heading, the fact that they were in motion, and that they were together the important bit.

Trent had never enjoyed fighting, a pointed duel with words at work or a verbal tussle at home one thing, but beyond a few slammed doors, and some pointed truths, Trent had never truly fought with Lilian.

They had always picked up on each other's passive aggressive cues, their unspoken nudges more than enough for the other to course correct since they had grown up in the same social class, had moved in the same environments as teenagers and adults.

Trent and Lilian understood each other on a fundamental level, their cultural and social background similar enough that they spoke the same language.

But Ted came from a totally different reality.

He had grown up in Kansas, with working class people, surrounded by American loudness and their overexaggerated facial expression, amongst the fake friendliness, the inquisitive politeness, and the boisterous tendencies.

It made sense that America had shaped Ted into a person who didn’t understand the meaning of a stiff upper lip, who didn’t pick up on when stoicism was used as a shield, who didn’t understand what it meant to deny someone the false dignity of being allowed to sweep things under the rug.

Ted had sobbed in Trent’s arms, had clung to him like he was a ship lost at sea, Ted’s regret and shame so obvious that Trent had almost started crying himself.

Instead of indulging his own emotions, he had held it together, had provided Ted a safe place to land, Trent so sure that Ted was finally returning to him, that their realities were slotting together once more, that they had managed to find their way back to each other.

Trent wasn’t even aware of how much he had missed Ted, until Ted had been the one to loop Trent’s scarf around his neck and place a kiss to the tip of Trent’s nose.

“Give me a bite of yours.”

“Excuse me?” Trent looked fully at Ted, his boyfriend smiling at him.

“Please?”

“And what are you trading me for it?” Trent raised an eyebrow, “a taste of that colorful monstrosity?” 

Trent didn’t mind sharing, but his magnum had a creamy vanilla center of proper ice cream. 

Ted wasn’t actually lactose intolerant, but it wasn’t good for him to indulge in too much dairy, his love of cheese already forcing Trent to open their bedroom window on more than one occasion. 

“A kiss?” Ted was rubbing his thumb up and down the back of Trent’s hand, Trent almost cursing his gloves with the way he was barely able to feel it.

“I was under the impression I got those for free?” Trent smiled, Ted smiling back at him, their meaningless banter like a smoothing balm on his frazzled soul.

“Please?” Ted pouted, and Trent rolled his eyes.

“Fine.” He paused their walking, Ted opening his mouth, waiting expectantly like a little baby bird. “One bite.”

Ted rolled his eyes before closing them, gesturing that Trent should feed him. 

Trent snorted at the bratty behavior, holding the ice cream to Ted’s lips, all of this ridiculous, but then, Ted actually took a bite, and Trent felt a swoop in his stomach.

Clearly, they should feed each other more, Ted gorgeous as he stood there, so trusting and vulnerable,  lips closing around the treat in Trent’s hand.

A satisfied noise left Ted, and Trent felt dizzy with desire.

It was so unfair, Ted able to play Trent like an instrument, Ted obviously doing one of his bits, Ted a devil in disguise if he had a craving for attention, but it was obviously working, Trent hyper aware of Ted’s every move.

Trent pulled on his ice cream, Ted still holding his hand, but just as Trent thought they were done, that Ted would let go, Ted opened his mouth once more and took a gigantic bite of Trent’s magnum, Ted descending on it like a vulture, devouring half of Trent’s ice cream in an instant.

“No!” Trent hadn’t meant to yell, but he felt absolutely outraged, “Theodore Lasso! How dare-“

Ted laughed, loudly and unapologetically, the hand with his Twister coming up to cover his mouth, his eyes sparkling and Trent wanted to kick him and kiss him at the exact same time.

~~~

Ted knew he was lingering, his elbows resting on the kitchen island, his head in his hands.

“Are you sure-“ Ted tried not to whine, but he couldn’t help it, “that you don’t want to tag along?”

It was Friday morning, Trent rinsing their plates, Ted making them french toast for breakfast.

“I’d prefer not to come home to an infected fridge.”

Ted grumbled, Trent making a very fair point. This was the kind of stuff they were supposed to have done last night, emptying out the fridge, taking out the trash and double checking all the locks on Ted’s closing shift list.

But they had gone for a walk, and ended up getting kebabs for dinner, Ted’s feet for some reason taking them to Roy’s regular shop.

They had gotten one each, and shared a basket of fries, the fella behind the counter giving them two cans of Irn Bru on the house, Ted leaving a fat tip behind though Trent told him it wasn’t necessary.

Ted had dreaded packing his suitcase, but once they got home, and he made his way upstairs, it had turned out that Trent had packed it for him, his boyfriend staring at his feet while he confessed that Ted only needed to gather his toiletries and the khakis from downstairs.

He had felt so overcome with love and gratitude that Ted had practically tackled Trent onto the bed, Trent protesting loudly when Ted’s suitcase had fallen to the floor, and then, one thing had led to the other, and Ted had fallen asleep without brushing his teeth, naked and satisfied and cuddled so close to Trent that they were practically one.

“I can stay and help.”

“You-“ Trent pointed at Ted, the sponge in his hand, “are going to work.”

“But-“ Ted had managed to clean up the living room before Trent had stumbled out of bed, Ted putting on an emergency pot of coffee, his boyfriend thankfully in his normal robe, Ted not sure he’d be able to withstand the siren song of silk today of all days.

“No.” Trent put the sponge down, turning the faucet with his elbow so he could rinse his hands. 

“But-“

“You sound like Isabella.” Trent’s words were grumpy, but his tone was fond, Ted sighing dramatically as Trent wiped his hands clean.

“You’ll go to work Ted.” Trent walked over to him, Ted standing up straight. “You’ll put on your coaching visor-“

Ted was about to make a comment that he didn’t really need it, since the weather forecast promised rain, but he held his tongue.

“And you’ll get your boys ready to get on the bus.”

“Sir yes sir.” Ted was about to do a mock salute, but Trent moved even closer, pressing Ted against the kitchen island, Ted letting out a shuddering breath.

“I’ll arrive after lunch, as I’m supposed to, with both of our suitcases,”

Ted nodded, an audible swallow leaving him, Trent all up in his space.

“And if you’ve done your job, and you’ve done it correctly-“

“Hey-“ Ted almost pouted, but a raised eyebrow from Trent cut him off before he could get truly huffy, Trent’s assessment that Ted had a tendency to get distracted kind of fair.

“You and I will have plenty of time together on the bus.”

“You promise?”

“I promise that it may happen if it doesn’t get in the way of your responsibilities as Coach Lasso.”

Ted felt his stomach clench, Trent’s words from yesterday popping up in Ted’s head.

“I want you to get in the way.” Ted said it with all of the conviction he could, Trent smiling at him in that soft way that always felt like a reward, tenderness in his eyes.

“And I’m willingly stepping aside, but-“ Trent reached up to grip Ted’s chin, his hands still cold, “as soon as the team movie starts playing tonight. You’re mine.”

“Rockadeelde Captain.”

Trent snorted, Ted letting Trent pull him in for a kiss, Ted melting with content as he could feel Trent smile against his lips, kissing while happy one of Ted’s favorite things.

~~~

“Come on boys!” Travis scowled as he watched the players exit Nelson Road. They were right on schedule, but Travis just wanted to get on the road, so they could arrive in Ipswich and he could take a nap in his room, the beginning of a headache growing behind his right eye.

No one had asked him to stay up all night, obsessively watching and rewatching tape of Richmonds matches against Manchester City, but Travis couldn’t stop thinking about how they’d be meeting their biggest rival on home turf next Saturday.

Ted would tell him to keep his focus on Ipswich, that he should be a goldfish, that he should stay in the moment and just believe, but Ted could honestly show it up his ass.

Travis saw how Ted’s coaching style worked with the Richmond players, saw how they grew and how some of them even bloomed under his attention and care, but Travis was going insane because of Ted’s la-di-da attitude, nothing less than technical perfection enough if they were to have a sliver of a chance against City.

“Bumbercatch! Move that butt!”

Bumbercatch didn’t exactly roll his eyes, but Travis could feel the attitude, could sense the way Bumbercatch bristled at Travis’ authority.

It was almost understandable, Travis younger than Bumbercatch, but he was their coach, and all of the players were supposed to do as they were told.

Travis didn’t actually have the travel tally or itinerary for the day, that documents in Will’s capable hands, but Will was loading the bus alongside the new kitmen, Keeley Jones chatting away while standing under an umbrella, their PR manager riding on the bus with them.

Wives and girlfriends weren’t typically allowed in the technical areas of a club, but Jamie tended to play better when Keeley or Roy were with them, Travis willing to bend the rules for their star player.

He didn’t like watching Jamie all cozied up, but if a snuggle gave him the ability to score goals, then Travis would allow it.

They weren’t starting Jamie at their match against Ipswich, Beard and Travis in instant agreement that they’d only ask Ted to sub him in if they were getting their asses handed to them, but Sam and Dani could probably handle Ipswich with the support of Colin and Llewellyn.

Zoroux wasn’t starting in goal either, Ted clapping Robin on the shoulder and telling him that it was only fair that he got his first shot at playing with the big boys if Llewellyn had his chance, O’Brien more than content to stay home with his toddler and wife.

It didn’t make sense to Travis, but he was only an assistant manager, Ted their gaffer in good times and bad times, Travis job to support Ted as well as he could.

But that didn’t mean that Travis couldn’t disagree.

Which he did with basically all of Ted’s choices.

Ted was inside, hiding away from the rain and talking to the reporters who had bothered to shove up for a last minute quote, Ted insisting that Alfie had cups of hot cocoa ready for all of them, which Travis had felt was overindulgent and unnecessary.

But no one had asked him, so he kept quiet.

Travis had boarded the bus and set up shop towards the back of the bus, his backpack on the outer seat, signaling to everyone that he didn’t want anyone next to him.

He was about to put his headphones on, and watch the highlights from City’s handful of lost matches from the current season, when Trent Crimm came up the stairs in the middle of the bus.

Travis barely managed to swallow a groan, Trent the last person he wanted to see.

Trent had his hair up in a half bun, soft curls falling around his shoulders, his glasses currently getting wiped with his sweater. It was a blue high necked cropped sweater with silver stars embroidered on, Trent wearing black high waisted trousers as well, a pair of blue boots on his feet.

He looked like a peacock.

A stupid, dazzling-

Travis shook his head, nostrils flaring as embarrassment traveled up his spine.

He wasn’t noticing Trent Crimm, Trent completely unimportant to him, Travis refusing to say hi because Trent never said hi, and he certainly didn’t need-

Travis had his iPad in his hands, ready to put on the performance of ignoring Trent completely, when Trent stopped before he had even made it to Travis seat.

“Excuse me.”

Travis felt another shiver, but it had to be annoyance, Trent’s voice like-

No.

“I don’t mean to bother you.” Trent put a hand on the seat on the other side of the row from Travis, Trent’s back to him, his arse-

No. No no no no. No.

No.

“You’re Robin Olsen, right?”

Travis craned his neck, Robin looking up at Trent with wide eyes. 

“Hi man.” Robin looked confused, one of his airpods still in. 

Their new goalkeeper had boarded the bus early, Travis quickly clocking him as one of the more introverted players, Robin often keeping to the edges of big groups of people.

“Right, sorry, I didn’t, I’m Trent-“ Trent held out his hand, Robin grabbing it. “Trent Crimm.”

Travis rolled his eyes, sure that Trent would introduce himself as Ted’s boyfriend, or at least as the author of his stupid book, but instead, Trent just continued talking.

“I was so excited when it was confirmed that you were coming to play for Richmond. We’ve desperately needed a third goalkeeper. Makes one feel much more relaxed, when a Premier League club has the depth in the squad.”

“It’s an honor to be here.”

“Premier League is its own beast,” Trent released Robin’s hand, sitting down which put him in the seat directly in front of Travis, his legs out in the aisle. It made it harder to see without getting noticed, but Travis could be sneaky, “Series A isn't for the weak either, and that alone has to be a big change from Allsvenskan-“

Travis had no idea what Trent had just tried to say, but he had absolutely pronounced it wrong.

“You know what the Allsvenskan is?” Robin had lit up, their goalkeeper twisting so his legs were out on the aisle too.

“Of course! Though I apologize for my pronunciation.”

“You should’ve heard them say it in Rome.” Robin grinned, “My last name too, it’s actually Olsson, but I figured Olsen was easier.”

“I’m sure we’ll all learn how to say the names correctly soon enough.” Trent grinned. “Would you prefer -Ollosson-, or-“

“Olson is fine.” Robin took his other airpod out of his ear, a teasing smile on his lips, though Travis wished he had told Trent he had made a mistake.

“Good, but please. Do feel free to correct me. Better get ahead of the curve. I mean, it’s quite the decade for Scandinavia, isn’t it? With Haaland-“

“Håland.”

Trent didn’t falter, but he did nod, Travis unsure he could even say Håland correctly himself.

“Erikson, Thomas Frank over at Brentford.”

“Jävla danskar.” 

“It’s a regular invasion.” Trent smiled, and Travis hated that he was sitting so close he could easily see Trent’s crows feet, that he could smell the almond scent that always lingered on him. “I’m sure Ted would have a joke or two ready about vikings.”

“I’m not sure he actually knows what they are?”

“Oh?” Trent sounded amused, “Well that’s the American school system for you. Do you feel confident about tomorrow?”

Robin’s eyes widened, Travis sitting up straight which afforded him a better look at both of them. The Richmond lineup wasn’t published anywhere, Beard insisting that they kept it a secret so Ipswich couldn’t prepare. “How do you-“

“I may have snug a peek on the locker room board. Old habits die hard and all that.” Trent sounded apologetic, but Travis would bet that he wasn’t sorry at all. “It isn’t your first time having a debut towards the end of a season, but I-“

“It isn’t.“ Robin looked suspicious, Travis resisting the urge to high five him, having someone else on his Trent Is A Phoney Team an awesome feeling.

“Why do you-“

“Know about Malmo?“

“Malmö.”

“Malmø?” Trent titled his head, Travis rolling his eyes before he could stop himself.

“Eh,” Robin smiled, wiggling his hand, Trent’s pronunciation clearly not right. 

“I took the liberty of looking into your career once it was confirmed that you were signed.” Trent smiled, excitement rolling off of him in waves, “Would you mind telling me what it’s been like working with Henrik- Well I’d hate to make another language faux pas so shortly after my last one, but Henrik Rud-“

“Rydström?” Robin looked genuinely surprised, “You know who Henrik Rydström is?”

“It’s always worth looking into the manager of new talent.” Trent said it like it was something funny, Travis close to boiling over.

Who had asked Trent to get on the bus, and instantly start bonding with their new players? Who had told him he could just look them up? That he was allowed to research their careers, and why was Trent paying so much attention to their new goalkeeper, when he had never looked twice at Travis-

“I can imagine his management style is heavily flavored by the loyalty he exhibited as a player for Kalmar-“

Trent was cut off as a regular flood of footballers came in through the doors, Travis picking up the sound of Alfie yelling that they could have their treat once everyone was in their seats, Travis quick to retreat into his seat as chaos descended around him. 

~~~

It was like Trent had been able to predict the future, because they had almost made it out of London before Ted was able to dump down on the seat next to Trent, who looked up from his book.

“Hello there.” Trent smiled, and Ted wanted to crawl inside Trent’s face and live there. Instead, he reached for the divider between their seats, flipping it up so it wouldn’t be in the way, “Everything-“

“I have no idea,” Ted slumped against Trent’s shoulder, allowing all of his weight to dump onto Trent, “who’s responsible for raising those hyenas.”

Ted knew exactly who was responsible for raising his boys, Ted always asking his players if they’d please bring their parents and brothers and sisters and partners and grandparents and children and cousins around for games. 

He still needed to appear on a few facetime calls, but he had made it his mission to say hello to as many families as he possibly could, to get that glimpse into where his players came from.

Ted loved meeting people's moms, but he also wanted to make sure that he did his part in keeping another Tartt senior situation from developing.

In hindsight, Ted should have insisted that Jamie spoke to a therapist, that he had been taken care of, but Ted had been so caught up in his own shit, in his own mistakes and regrets with his own Dad that he had been unable to see clearly.

“Oh?” Trent chuckled, Ted turning his head to snuggle in, Trent letting him, Ted greedily breathing in his scent. “Was there trouble with the treats?”

“Heck yeah.” Someone had accidentally taken AND eaten Jan’s gluten free lemon bar, since Alfie hadn’t labeled the trays well enough, Ted getting in between Jan and Sam, Jan practically about to climb over the seats while accusing Sam of eating his snack, which was stupid and dangerous and a bit of an overreaction. “We got it though.”

Or, Will had got it. 

Their kitman had come to the rescue with a secret snack box, Will apparently stocking the bus with a padlock box that had plenty of substitutions and extras of everyone's favorite.

Ted had tried to get his hands on a butterfinger, but Will had told him that it was an emergency only box, and Ted had to respect that.

Even if it made him a little bit grumpy.

“Whatcha reading?” 

Ted didn’t pick up Trent’s book to look at the cover, since he knew that he was inching from adorably bratty to actually annoying, but he couldn’t help his constant meddling. 

Not when Ted had been made aware that he didn't pay enough attention to Trent, that Trent had drifted from the center of his universe, instead of staying firmly put where he belonged.

Which was something Ted was going to change.

“Is it another Chelsea book?”

Trent was about to answer, when Ted heard Dani raise his voice at the front of the bus, his boys obviously about to get in another argument, Ted already getting on his feet.

He saw a water bottle fly through the air, and Ted let out a loud groan, his team determined to get on his last nerve.

“Oh for fucks sake.” 

Ted heard Isaac loudly accuse Colin of cheating in Mario Kart, and Ted hurried down the aisle.

He knew he had made a mistake when he had moved morning practice inside because of the rain, but he hadn’t expected it to come bite him in the butt this fast, his boys filled with energy, the trip to Ipswich suddenly seeming endlessly long. 

It was preferable to pneumonia, but Ted had almost wished he had let them tire each other out on the pitch.

“Everybody! Hands in the air!”

Chapter Text

Trent took a sip of his tea, the slightly tangy aftertaste almost making him wrinkle his nose.

He wasn’t an actual tea snob, but the hotel they were currently staying at had clearly been picked for the proximity to the Ipswich stadium, and the fact that it had a pool.

Ted had practically herded the players off the bus, Trent watching on in amusement, Ted spending the entire trip putting out one fire after another.

The players had been told that they were all swimming laps as punishment for their bus behavior, Ted in full coach mode since he actually blew his whistle when Winchester tried to argue that he behaved.

“I told you you should have gone for a cocktail.”

Trent couldn’t retrace the steps of how, exactly, he had ended up in a conference room with Keeley Jones, but there he was, Keeley on one side of the table, Trent set up on the other.

He vaguely recalled Keeley saying something about not getting her hair wet, and her looping her arm with Trent, Keeley as always smelling like florals and… Pink.

“I’m taking a bit of an alcohol break.” Trent smiled. He felt incredibly lucky that he barely felt the after effect of yesterday's shots, their walk and greasy dinner apparently enough to save him, but it’d be good to show a bit of moderation.

Especially if he and Ted were checking in for a mini break stay tomorrow night.

“So responsible.” Keeley smiled, her outfit of the day a pink and glittery tracksuit, giant hoops in her ears. “Cheers!”

Keeley held up the cosmo she had somehow managed to get the unenthusiastic bartender to make for her.

“Cheers.” Trent raised his cup of tea, expecting Keeley to refocus on her own work, her giant Mac open in front of her, but instead, Keeley continued to watch him.

“Trent?”

Trent had been married to a woman long enough to know that Keeley was about to ask him something he probably didn’t want to answer, the sweetness in her voice a guaranteed trap.

“Yes?” 

“Have you talked to Ted yet?”

“Talked to Ted about what?” Trent had an idea where this was going, but he really wished it wouldn’t.

“I’m not trying to meddle babes-“ It was exactly what Keeley was doing, but Trent tried to hold his tongue, lashing out at Keeley the last thing he wanted to do, “I’m just worried about you. I love you.”

Trent smiled, “That’s-“

“When I look at Ted, I want to put him in a headlock-“

Trent nearly snorted, the idea of Keeley wrestling Ted unfairly funny. 

“And pull his moustache out one hair at a time, until he apologizes.”

“That is as creative as it’s unnecessary.” Trent looked at Keeley, his heart aching at her display of loyalty and care. “Though I have threatened to do the exact same thing.”

“It's just so tempting, isn’t it? To get a pair of tweezers and go-“ Keeley mimicked pulling a hair out with her fingers, her nails so long they clacked together. “Are you sure I can’t be a little bit mean?”

“I’d prefer it if you weren’t.”

“Twat,” Keeley rolled her eyes, taking another sip of her drink. “I’m preparing this presentation, and it’s so boring. I thought I’d be able to sprint through it if I sucked out some of your sexy professor vibes.”

Trent paused, Keeley constantly saying unhinged things that made him do a double take. “Thank you?”

“Though it has been a while since you wore those blazers of yours. So that’s obviously why I can’t concentrate.” Keeley closed her laptop, Trent about to point out the egregious leaps in her logic, when she put her head in her hands and let out a little sigh.

“Everything alright Miss Jones?”

“I need an orgasm.”

“Ha,” Trent let out a laugh, Keeley as always so wonderfully candid. “I’m sure Jamie would be grateful for the opportunity.”

“He’s not gonna be done for ages.” 

Trent had to agree, whatever water aerobics nonsense Ted had decided to put the players through sure to last until just before dinner. 

“What are you working on?”

“Me?” Trent disliked the surprise in his voice, but he hadn’t expected Keeley to turn her attention towards him, “it’s…”

Trent hadn’t planned on bringing his manuscript along, but Ted had a tendency to nap so Trent had thrown it in his suitcase in case he had downtime at their hotel, and when Keeley had asked him to meet her for a coworking sesh, he had grabbed it without thinking.

He hated editing his own work, and he still needed those interviews if he wanted to make the book a reality, but, it couldn’t hurt to tell Keeley.

“I…” Trent realised that he hadn’t actually told anyone what he was working on, except for the women he had reached out to, Keeley the first person he’d share this with. “May be writing a book about Chelsea?”

It felt weird to say it out loud, to admit what he had spent months on, especially when the book would likely never see the light of day.

“You’re writing a book about Chelsea?” Keeley sat up straight, her eyes glittering with a level of enthusiasm and interest Trent hadn’t expected.

“Yes, or, no, maybe. It’s-“ Trent knew he had a stack of papers in his hand, but it wasn’t anywhere near a finished product. “I want it to be about their women’s team, and women’s football in general. This upcoming season is the 25th anniversary of Chelsea’s team, but I don’t have a publisher, or an editor-“

Trent had so many passages of his writing that he’d love to discuss with Elijah, that he wanted his Richmond editor's perspective on, but it felt like that ship had sailed, Trent unwilling to present something to Elijah that would be a waste of his time.

It was a shame, Trent not yet ready to put his project to rest, even if it’d never be published.

 “Can’t you just get those?”

Trent almost laughed, “You say that like it’s easy.”

“I say it like you’re Trent Crimm.” Keeley grinned at him, Trent almost breathless at the way she so obviously believed in him. “Like Trent Fucking Crimm and Keeley Fucking Jones. Independent.”

It was sweet of Keeley to remind Trent of his old tagline, but-

“I’m not too sure I feel like that these days,” Trent hadn’t felt independent or even capable, for a long while, his life a mess if you scratched at the surface, this Chelsea book a stupid idea that he never should have started, “I’m glad you have confidence in me. That means a lot.”

Keeley looked at him, her eyes narrowing slightly, Trent sure she was about to dig in, that she’d cut him open and dissect him, but then, she pulled back, and Trent nearly let out a sigh of relief.

It was one of the things Trent liked the best about Keeley, how she was kind enough to let people off the hook when they needed it, Keeley the type to let sleeping dogs lie if the situation called for it.

“You know,” Keeley had put her hair up in a ponytail, her finger wrapping around a strand of hair. “I’ve never dated a Chelsea player.”

“What?” Trent snorted at the inaccuracy of that statement. “Aren’t you currently shagging a former captain?”

“Oh.” Keeley seemed surprised, which didn’t make sense to Trent.

Roy Kent was famously a Chelsea player, his tenure as Captain, his status as a Champions League winner still his legacy even though he coached at Richmond.

“I guess you’re right.” Keeley smiled, tilting her head to the side, Roy clearly registering to her as a Richmond man through and through.

Trent would forever be impressed at how little Keeley knew about football, how she didn’t love the game with a burning passion when she spent so much time watching it, Keeley constantly by Rebecca’s side.

Unless she was playing him.

Which was also a very real possibility.

“I wish I was shagging him though.” Keeley sighed exaggeratedly, a pout on her lips.

“Excuse me?” That statement didn’t make any sense, Trent unfortunately chronically over informed about what Keeley, Roy and Jamie got up to in bed. 

“Right? I should be, but Roy is all weird about my strap-“

“Aha?” It didn’t surprise Trent that Keeley used a strap, Keeley freely telling Rebecca about how she should talk Matthjis into letting her top him.

“It might be a little big, but it’s not that much larger than Jamie, I mean, I can almost close my fingers around it,” Keeley showed the girth, Trent noting that it was what he’d call thick, especially if it was a toy, silicon a different experience to flesh, Trent momentarily and privately agreeing with Roy.

“So I have no idea why he’s being such a wuss. I’d be able to take it with no hesitation.”

“Vaginal sex isn’t the same as anal.” Trent knew that Keeley knew that, but just because she could-

“Who says I don’t regularly take it up the arse?”

“And that-“ Trent pointed at Keeley, “is a timeout for you Miss Jones.”

~~~

“Wow,” Ted grinned. He was sitting on the couch in his and Ted’s hotel room, his phone on the table and propped up against a pillow, Henry’s face on the screen, “That’s awesome bud! I’m real proud of you.”

Ted was technically supposed to be at the team movie night, but Henry had texted during dinner and asked if Ted could get on the phone before bedtime, Trent eagerly jumping on the opportunity to join him in their room and skip movie night.

Which was a shame, because they were watching My Fair Lady, but Ted would find another opportunity to reintroduce his boyfriend to the jewel in Audrey Hepburn's cinematography, Trent only vaguely aware of the plot.

“Good thing you stuck with the sticking, and that you’re using your Christmas present. Though Dave Grohl-“

“Learned to play on pillows. I know Dad.” It was impressive how Henry managed to sound two thirds deeply exasperated but still one third fond, Ted reminded once again that Henry’s 13th birthday was just around the corner. “You only told me a gazillion million trillion times.”

Ted heard a snort come from the other end of the couch, and he turned his head to look at Trent, who had curled up with a book after finishing up in the bathroom while Henry and Ted talked.

He looked all cozy and content, Trent wearing one of Ted’s t-shirts and a loose set of shorts, his hair up in what Ted used to think of as the smarty bun, but it was slowly turning into the every day bun, Trent’s hair getting past his shoulders. 

“You got anything to add Mr. Fancy Man?”

“Me?” Trent smiled, a teasing glint in his eyes. “No, not as such. I simply enjoy a little lesson on the true musical prodigy of Nirvana.”

If they were alone, Ted would have retaliated, but before he could come up with a child appropriate come back, or anything that didn’t amount to asking Trent to kiss his shiny hiney, Henry spoke up.

“Is that Trent?”

Ted looked back at the screen, Henry trying to crane his neck though it obviously wouldn’t help.

“Sure is pal.” Ted had forgotten to tell Henry that Trent was in the room, though it obviously wasn’t a surprise that they’d be sharing a room and a bed, “You wanna say hi?” 

“Can I?”

“Abso-freaking-lutely.” Ted reached for his phone, Trent sitting up straight, a slight look of disbelief on his face, Trent looking like it didn’t make sense to him that Henry wanted to say hi, which didn’t make sense to Ted, because Henry adored Trent. “There we go.”

Ted twisted the phone, Trent coming to sit right next to Ted, both of them squashed inside the frame.

“Hello Henry.” 

Trent smiled, and Ted couldn’t help but watch them on the tiny screen. They looked good together. Looked right. Like they belonged at each other’s side.

“Trent! Did Dad show you the article I sent him about slugs?”

“He did not.” Trent knocked his knee against Ted’s, “what did it say?”

Henry started talking, animatedly and excitedly, Ted unwilling to admit that he hadn’t actually clicked the link Henry had forwarded. Ted allowed a hand to find its way to Trent’s knee as he listened to Henry, Ted giving Trent a squeeze. 

Ted didn’t mean to zone out, but he kind of did, the sound of Trent and Henry talking beyond soothing.

It was typical that Ted had made a vow to himself that he’d be more considerate of Trent, that he’d put in the effort to really show Trent that he loved him, that he was a priority, just before his boys made the collective decision to turn into a colony of feral cats.

Ted had no idea why they were all hissing at each other, but everyone had been at each other's throats all day, Ted rushing from one fight club situation to the next.

Beard had made the guess that they were reacting to the fact that while they were playing Ipswich tomorrow, everyone knew that their home turf match against City was only 8 short days away.

It made sense that that would raise everybody's stress levels, Ted overcome with guilt about the fact that he wouldn’t come back to work until Wednesday, though Beard had promised he had it all under control.

“Dad?”

“What?” Ted blinked, his brief detour to the zone out zone apparently turning into a rocket trip to Mars. “What did you say?”

“See,” Henry huffed, “I told you he wasn’t listening.”

“Be nice to your father Henry. He’s a busy man who has a lot of responsibility.”

“I know,” Henry sighed, and Ted felt another quick stab of guilt, Henry obviously in need of attention too. He was about to open his mouth, when Trent continued.

“And you should remember to ask nicely, if you want him to answer your question about whether or not Richmond will win tomorrow.”

“That’s what you wanted to ask?” Ted looked at Henry who nodded enthusiastically, “Well, I’ll tell you what I told everybody at the presser. Anything is-“

“Possible,” Henry and Trent spoke in perfect unison, Trent even imitating Ted’s accent, “as long as you believe in belief, follow your heart, and do your best.”

They both started laughing, and Ted couldn’t help but join in, his heart aching with tender fondness at the way his family had just ganged up on him. 

~~~

“Looks like it’ll be a wet one today, Coach.”

Beard had titled his head upwards, the sky above them dangerously gray, the stadium grass still dry beneath his feet, the clouds hanging worryingly low.

“Yup.” Ted popped the P, his hands in his pockets, the two of them standing so close their arms touched from shoulder to wrist. “You think we needa worry?”

They were obviously cumulonimbus clouds, a light rainfall a best case scenario, but Beard was fairly certain Ted didn’t have an extensive knowledge about cloud formations.

Though he had been surprised by the extent of Ted’s unexpected knowledge before.

“Can’t really do much about it.” Beard wrinkled his nose. Playing while it rained raised the risk of player injuries exponentially, but the match wouldn’t be postponed unless it started thundering right above their heads. “Think we gotta stick it out.”

“Truer words have rarely been spoken, but-“ Ted looked over at Beard, “we can make sure that everyone will have dry socks and clean clothes for halftime.”

~~~

Rebecca watched from the owner’s box as Colin managed a rare goal off of a zigzag maneuver from Dani, the crowd roaring as Isaac picked Colin up for a hug, the Richmond supporters all cheering their hearts out, the visiting side in unison as they celebrated.

It had been raining heavily for the entirety of the match, Keeley cuddled under her arm, the two of them sharing an umbrella, Keeley’s phone in her lap since she was on a call with Roy, Keeley instructed to keep an eye on the bench and tell him if Jamie took his coat off for a single second.

Rebecca knew that Roy was just worried, that he didn’t want Jamie to get sick, but he had a game with the women’s team in the evening, Rebecca promising that she’d take Jamie and Keeley with her so they could all attend.

It wasn’t unusual for an owner to come to a National League game, but Rebecca wanted to be there for her ladies, the fact that their women’s squad played in their spare time while handling jobs or school, something she had an endless amount of respect for. 

The press loved it when Jamie showed up to the games, but it thankfully seemed like the women’s team found it inspiring that Jamie came to so many of their matches, Rebecca telling Skylar that she only needed to say the word as Captain, and Rebecca would make sure she and her squad could play in peace, but they all seemed to co-exist, Roy working hard to get the team out of the National League. 

Colin’s chant verberated throughout Portman Road, and Rebecca knew she should enjoy it, that she should be proud, and she was proud, so proud, but she couldn’t help but look to the stands, Trent down there somewhere, amongst all of the other supporters, Rebecca hoping and praying that he’d be okay.

~~~

Trent was. Unfortunately. Soaked through.

Richmond had won, the team playing a beautiful game of football, Llewellyn running like his life depended on it, Robin covered in mud from head to toe.

Colin had scored their second goal while Jan nearly got one in too, Dani of course just enjoying the rain as he came down on Ipswich defense like a joyous beast.

Trent was making his way backstage, his phone in hand as he looked for the email from Higgins with his credentials. 

It had thankfully survived the rainfall since he had tucked it inside under his layers and against his belly, having to purchase a new phone right now, a worst case scenario.

He was glad he hadn’t worn his blue cowboy boots since they had felt like a bit much for the stadium, the shoe he had gone for instead a classic Oxford with a thick sock, but that had been a terrible mistake, everything wet and gross.

Trent made it past security without any issues, the backstage area a mishmash of staff from both teams, as well as press, small interview areas set up all over the place, cameras and microphones everywhere.

It seemed like everyone had hurried inside, Trent getting out of his seat as soon as the final whistle had blown, his normal waittime completely forgotten since he felt like a drowned rat.

Trent stepped aside, getting his woolen coat off and putting it over his arm before plucking his glasses from his nose to wipe them in his shirt, Trent reaching under his sweater to get to his t-shirt, the cotton only kind of damp.

He managed to get the worst of the water off of them, Trent straightening his back, his suitcase with his dry clothes unfortunately somewhere in the coache’s changing room. 

It had made sense to let Will grab his suitcase when they arrived at the stadium, Ted telling Trent that a car would be picking them up after the match, Trent hoping that they’d arrive at their hotel in time for a late dinner.

He really wanted to get to his stuff, so he could change his clothes, but Ted needed to finish his interviews and the team's locker room rituals.

Trent couldn’t spot him in the crowd, everyone gathered inside, journalists practically bumping into each other as they all tried to get their stories and pieces of content.

Maybe, Trent could locate Beard, or Will, or anyone that could help him get to his dry clothes.

He’d honestly take Travis and his sour puss attitude at this point, if it meant that he could get out of his trousers.

Trent started walking down the hall, trying to remember where the visiting team would be located at Portman Road, when he heard Ted’s voice call out.

“Baby?”

~~~

“I cannot believe you.” Trent hissed, his teeth gritted together. “You were in the middle of-“

“An interview.” Ted had a hand on the small of Trent’s back, leading him towards the locker rooms. “I know."

Ted had been talking to TNT Sports, a camera pointed at him when he had spotted Trent, and his instincts had taken over. He had walked away without a moment's hesitation, Ted ignoring the cameras that suddenly started flashing, a murmur going through the crowd. He’d likely have to grovel for forgiveness from Holly and Keeley, and he’d have to send flowers to TNT as an apology, but Ted didn’t care.

“This is so unnecessary."

Trent had been soaked through, Ted himself well and truly damp, his hair a flat mess from being out in the rain, but Ted had had Will to provide them with umbrellas and raincoats, while Trent had been left to the elements.

Which had made Ted’s protective instincts roar.

“You’ll get sick.” Ted led Trent down the hall and through the double doors, the two of them entering the private quarters for the visiting team.

“Someone else could have helped me.”

Ted knew someone else could have stepped in, that someone would have spotted Trent and helped him out, but Ted also knew with absolute certainty that he had made the right choice.

“That clip will be all over the internet Theodore.” Trent sounded annoyed, but Ted knew that he wasn’t truly upset, an actually angry Trent not someone who’d willingly follow along, Trent more than capable of standing up for himself. “You’ll be answering questions about this for the next millennia, they’ll tease you relentlessly.”

“So?”

Ted knocked on the door to the coaches’ quarters, opening and getting Trent inside before anyone would have had a chance to respond, Beard and Travis thankfully not there.

“You’re not at all worried that this has likely already been memed to heaven and back?” Trent twisted away from Ted, throwing his coat on one of the chairs as he pulled his sweater over his head and toed off his shoes. “That they’ll dig out photos of us to make clickbait articles?”

“No?” Ted was barely online, so it didn’t actually bother him at all, his Facebook account the only social media Ted controlled himself, his Twitter account managed by the PR department. “I did what any man would have done.”

“I can already see the headlines. ‘Lasso abandons duty for dick’.”

“Well that’s a bit harsh.” Ted hadn’t abandoned his duty, Richmond taking home a 3-0 victory, poor Ipswich getting dragged through the literal mud, their pitch properly destroyed, “and not exactly true.”

“When have the tabloids cared about the truth?” Trent unbuttoned his trousers, a joke about dick right at the tip of Ted’s tongue, though he managed to keep it in, even as Trent slid out of his wet clothes, Ted unable to look away while Trent undressed. “This screams Daily Mail. I hate it when we’re in the Daily Mail.”

Ted didn’t like it either, but Trent was obviously a lot more affected by the casual and oftentimes overt homophobia that tended to rear its head whenever the football world at large were reminded of the fact that Ted was in a committed and loving relationship with a man.

That Ted was a queer Premier League manager.

It was so frustratingly backwards and ridiculous, Ted proudly wearing his rainbow pin and talking about Trent whenever it made sense, the snide comments born of ignorance and fear, which Ted refused to accept.

He didn’t bow down to bullies, and he wasn’t going to change who he was to accommodate someone who operated on hate.

“They’re so unimaginative, so crude-“

“The photos do fit nicely in the family album though.” Ted smiled, hoping to lighten the mood, Trent taking his bait with an exaggerated sigh. 

“You,” Trent looked at Ted, “are incorrigable Coach Lasso.” 

“That’s me.” Ted continued smiled, and Trent rolled his eyes, his anger shimmered down, Trent just irritated now.

Trent was obviously cold, his teeth clacking, and while Ted should probably prioritize finding Rebecca to apologize for his behavior and its effect on Richmond, he walked over instead, reaching up and out to take Trent’s face in his hands, Ted tilting Trent’s head to give him a kiss, Trent reluctantly melting into it.

Chapter Text

Ted turned the water off, reaching up to scrub at his face as the last droplets came out of the overhead rainshower, the bathroom filled with steam. Ted should have known Rebecca would take his request for a good hotel to heart, but he hadn’t expected real marble counters, the bathroom in their suite nicer than the house he grew up in.

He and Trent had been picked up in Ipswich by Ted’s regular driver, Rebecca arranging it alongside the hotel reservation.

Ted had expected his vacation to start the moment he got into the backseat with Trent, but as always, Trent had turned out to be right, the press swarming around him like flies on a cowpie.

He had been surrounded when exiting the stadium, TNT running with their story, several reporters staying behind to catch him in the parking lot, and while Keeley had been genuinely apologetic about it, she had kept him on a phone call from Ipswich to London, conferencing in a select group of reporters.

All because Ted’s brain had apparently stopped functioning when he caught sight of a soaked and shivering Trent.

Ted had expected Trent to be annoyed by the calls, or at least acknowledge that their vacation had been interrupted before it even began, but Trent had simply slipped on his headphones and attacked a stack of printed papers with a highlighter, his boyfriend as cool as a cucumber about the intrusion.

It wasn’t lost on Ted how ridiculously lucky he was to have Trent, Ted pretty sure Michelle would have been giving him the cold shoulder if he had pulled something like this when they were still together, their opportunities to take trips together just the two of them few and far between.

With Trent, it felt like they never came up, their hotel weekend a rare and precious opportunity.

Ted stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel to dry off and wrap around his waist. Trent had urged him to get under the spray, to wash away the grime of the day, to take the time to switch out of his Coach Lasso mindset, Ted no longer at work.

He had asked if Trent wanted to join, but his boyfriend had shook his head and said that he’d unpack instead, Trent taking a quick shower in Ipswich while Ted had gotten the players’ feedback out of the way. 

The bathroom was ridiculously big, and everything practically screamed expensive, right down to the full-sized shower products, Ted’s hair smelling faintly like pine.

“Ted?”

Ted heard Trent knock on the doorframe, the door to the bathroom closed but not locked.

“I’ve got sweats for you, if you want them.”

Ted paused, a little surprised that Trent had picked that for him, instead of the suit that Ted knew he had packed.

“What?”

Trent opened the door, a set of clothes in his right hand. He was a sight for sore eyes, his hair back in the bun, Ted so ready for their vacation to begin.

“I heard the shower turn off, so I assumed-“

“We’re not going to the restaurant?” 

Ted had somehow been recognised as soon as they got out of the car, the hotel staff all welcoming him as Mr. Lasso. It wasn’t too weird, since he had literally just been on national television, but that intense attention, that recognition, was a part of the job that Ted struggled with, a bellboy getting their bags before Ted had had a chance to stop him.

It was late, but not that late, their bellboy informing them that a table had been reserved for them at the hotel brasserie, and that it’d be kept open.

“I can-“ Ted didn’t manage to swallow his yawn in time, his body heavy with exhaustion. “I can go down-“

“I figured,” Trent cut him off, but his tone was gentle, “that room service would be preferable.” Trent smiled, and Ted had to fight not to let out an audible sigh of relief as he was handed his clothes.

“Thanks…” Ted wanted to say more, but Trent had already retreated, leaving Ted with a set of his favorite gray sweats, fresh socks and underwear and his State Shockers t-shirt.

It was a perfect outfit for lounging around, and Ted so desperately wanted to do that, wanted to shut out the world and drown himself in comfort, but this trip was supposed to be Trent’s birthday gift.

A gift he got 3 months late, but still a gift nonetheless.

It was Ted who was supposed to take care of Trent, who should be the one putting in the extra effort.

Not Trent.

Even if it was so, so, so nice to be the recipient of Trent’s care and attention. 

Ted got dressed, drying his hair quickly though he didn’t bother styling it, joining Trent more important than his hair being coiffed just right.

He considered if he should say something, if he should insist once more that they should go down, but as Ted opened the bathroom door, and spotted Trent over by the dining table, he felt a wave of contentment wash over him.

It wasn’t a night where he would have asked for Indian if they were home, but Ted was overfilled and used up, and he honestly just wanted to relax.

The suite was beautiful, kept in cream and beige and real oak, comfortable couches, big beds, plush carpets and large windows the defining features of the rooms Ted had managed to explore so far, Rebecca truly going all out.

“Hello darling.” Trent had set the table, the hotel staff sending them real cloth napkins and actual silver wear. “I ordered you a shrimp alfredo.”

Trent lifted the cloche, Ted hit with the delicious scent of one of his favorite dishes, an appreciative groan leaving him, his mouth watering.

“Seems like I made the right choice.” Trent smirked. “I even, and I hope you’ll applaud, asked them to add as much shrimp as they legally could.”

Ted didn’t know what to say, which was rare, but he had also talked and talked and talked all day, actually, it felt like he had talked to everyone in the universe but Trent, though they had had their moment in the locker room.

“I opted for the salad, and I’m skipping the wine tonight, but I got you a bottle of white.” Trent had pulled out Ted’s chair, Ted hesitating for a moment before he came to sit, Trent kissing his hair before he pushed him in.

“Bon appetit.”

Trent walked around the table to sit down himself, Ted still feeling somewhat speechless.

He felt warm and cared for, precious and loved, Trent truly thinking of everything, a carafe of water on the table too, a couple of other dishes still hidden away beneath silver lids, Trent probably getting them dessert too.

“I took the liberty of exploring while you were in the shower, and I picked the bedroom that overlooks Hyde Park as our main one,” Trent had ordered what looked like a chicken salad for himself, his boyfriend picking up a knife and fork, “but there’s so many beds here we-“

“Trent.”

“Ted?” Trent looked at Ted, his eyes narrowing. “I’m sorry, am I talking too much? I can be-“

“No!” That wasn’t what Ted had wanted to say at all, a wave of guilt washing over him, the weariness in his bones quadrupling.

“It’s alright, we can discuss the itinerary for tomorrow at another time, though either you or Rebecca have booked us a timeslot at the rooftop spa, but we don’t have to speak, we can just eat and-“

“What? No.” Ted hadn’t asked Trent to keep quiet, yet, Trent offered it as though it was nothing at all, like he expected Ted to want his silence, when Ted craved, when he needed Trent in the same way he needed air, “No, why would you even- This is supposed to be your birthday present.” Ted felt a brief flare of his temper, Trent so willfully- He didn’t have to be that way, didn’t have to- “I want this to be about you. Not me. We can still go downstairs-“

It was the romantic thing to do, and Ted should have insisted, the fact that he was sitting here, that he was wearing sweats, a selfish and idiotic choice.

He should have called ahead and asked for flowers, should have made sure this was the romantic weekend Trent deserved.

He should be the one to have ordered dessert, he should-

“We can eat fancy food on small plates-”

“That you won’t enjoy?” Trent raised an eyebrow, Ted feeling a brief stab of annoyance. He could enjoy a fancy restaurant, even if teeny tiny food were some European nonsense, and he could especially enjoy it if it was for Trent’s sake. “I looked at the menu online Ted and believe me, this-“ Trent used his fork to point at their plates, “is the right choice. Though I am very happy with the hotel overall.”

“But-“ it felt like Trent wasn’t listening to him, Ted trying to make him understand that he wanted to make this special.

“What matters to me is that we’re together, okay?” Ted felt Trent catch his foot under the table, Trent wrapping his left foot around Ted’s ankle, pulling on it to hold him. “You’re exhausted.”

“I’m not.” Ted was absolutely exhausted, but that didn’t matter. 

“You are.” 

Ted swallowed, Tent seeing right through him.

“You don’t have to perform for me Ted.”

“I don’t-“ Ted didn’t perform with Trent, he didn’t put on a performance, because he didn’t have to, Trent accepting him exactly as he was, his boyfriend completely unflappable when Ted let his weird out.

He was making an effort, which was different.

“We could be eating a Tesco’s meal deal in the car, and I’d still have a good time, because I’d have you by my side.”

“Right…” That was incredibly sweet, Trent obviously honest, the words he just said the truth, and Ted knew he should let it go, knew he should eat the meal Trent had ordered for him, but he couldn’t let this go, his thoughts still circling around their argument from yesterday. “But does that make you feel like a priority?”

Trent paused, his eyes narrowing, his lips turning into a thin line. Trent didn’t say anything, and Ted swore he could feel the seconds drag by like they took hours to pass.

He could open his mouth, could make a joke, any joke, any stupid, not funny joke, and the mood would turn, but Ted didn’t want to.

Because he had to know if Trent took his own feelings into consideration. If he was remembering that he should be a priority, one of the top priorities, in Ted’s life.

Ted shouldn’t have brought it up like this, but it was too late to change it now, Ted unable and unwilling to take it back.

It was so typical that he didn’t process emotions in a timely manner, that he spoke too fast or took too long, that he’d decide to reopen what had felt like a fight when they were supposed to relax.

But Ted was tired, exhausted, and even a little angry, angry at himself for causing this situation in the first place, angry that he didn’t give Trent what he needed, Ted’s brain fully latched onto the accusation that had been flung his way Thursday.

Ted wanted, needed, Trent to feel like a priority, his heart breaking at the thought that Trent just seemed to have accepted those feelings of neglect.

Ted had to make Trent understand how important he was, and he’d force the issue if he had to.

Even if it meant suffering through this silence.

Trent sighed, and for a moment, it felt like a victory, Ted so proud of the fact that he had managed to wait him out, but Trent seemed…

Deflated.

“Is this a new thing we’ll be doing?” Trent pulled away, Ted already desperately missing the feeling of his foot hooked around his ankle, “Because if we are, I’d like you to stop.”

“I just asked you a question-“

Because Ted needed to know the truth. 

If Trent could accept his supposed place in Ted’s life, did he truly think their relationship was worth fighting for? Or would he just let go? 

Ted knew he was spiraling, but was this the first step of Trent letting go? Of him, of their life? Of their relationship?

Was this distance the first few inches of separation that’d grow and grow until there was nothing but emptiness between them.

“It was phrased like one, but you know that wasn’t just an innocent question.”

Ted hated how Trent called him out, because the question wasn’t innocent, but Ted had wanted Trent to 
understand that he could ask for things, that Ted desperately wanted to give him what he needed.

That Ted just had to know how.

That Trent simply needed to show him.

To tell him.

To-

“If it was anything,” Trent put his fork and knife down, his arms crossing, “it was an unkindness, and you-“

“It’s not unkind.”

“You don’t get to argue my emotion.” Trent’s voice was getting dangerously close to press room stern, Ted well aware that he was sailing through treacherous waters, but he truly hadn’t meant it like that.

“I just want to know if you feel like this is good enough for you.“

“I don’t appreciate your line of thought and what it says about my character,” Trent looked genuinely upset, Ted unable to understand how what he had said could be understood in that way, “and I don’t want to be asked about whether or not I feel prioritized at random intervals-“

“I’m allowed to ask.”

“You most certainly are, but you don’t have to- You don’t have to say it as if I’m… Like I was unreasonable, as if I’m needy.”

“I didn’t say that. I’d never say that.”

It felt like Trent was searching for an excuse to shoot the conversation down, that he was twisting Ted’s words so he wouldn’t have to answer.

“I’d never call you unreasonable, or needy, or-“

If anything, Trent was un-needy, too reasonable, and above all fiercely independent, Ted regretfully reminded of how emotionally fraught he currently was since the opportunity for an Indepedent joke didn’t give him any pleasure at all.

“I just want to know if this,” Ted held his arms up, gesturing to the room and the food and regrettably, to himself too, “is enough for you to know that I love you, because it doesn’t feel like it is-“

“Ted. What you’re saying is nonsense” Trent looked directly into Ted’s eyes. “I told you yesterday, and I’ll tell you today, and I’ll tell you tomorrow. I never doubt that you love me.”

It was the truth. 

Ted knew it was the truth, could see it plain as day in Trent’s face, could recognise the honesty of the words in his own heart because he felt the same way.

But it wasn’t the entire truth.

“Frankly, I’m offended that you seem to equate monetary value and expensive gestures to be of more worth than the everyday life we’ve built-“

One day, Ted would tell Trent how frustrating it was that his LIX score went through the roof when they were arguing, that he insisted on saying things in the most convoluted way, the size of Trent’s vocabulary skyrocketing when he was under pressure.

“If you think that the gift you’re giving me isn’t time, if you truly think that a suite is how to make me feel appreciated, you and I need to have a different and much more serious conversation-“

“Wait.” Ted practically felt a light bulb go off in his head. “Say that again.”

“Do you want me to restate that you apparently don’t know me-“

“No. The other part. The appreciation part.”

Sometimes, Ted hated the fact that he wasn’t an inside his own head thinker, that he had to say things out loud before they became a reality, the truth hitting him like a freight train as soon as the words left his lips.

“I don’t appreciate you.”

“Excuse me?” Trent’s eyes had narrowed once more, “I need you to consider your words, and to think carefully, because if I’m understanding you correctly, I’m not sure me staying overnight in a separate bedroom will be enough to salvage this trip-“

“I’m an idiot.”

“Well I’m certainly not going to argue the counterpoint when you continue to spout deranged bullshit-“

“No, listen to me Trent. I’m an idiot.”

“I’ve already agreed.” Trent had crossed his arms, all pretenses of eating long forgotten, Ted’s food probably stone cold by now. “Can we please-“

“No.” Ted didn’t mean to sound frustrated, but it had finally clicked for him, properly clicked, fully clicked. “You don’t understand what I’m trying to say.”

Ted wasn’t sure he fully understood what he was trying to say either, but he understood that he hadn’t been understanding anything, that he had forgotten that love and appreciation weren’t the same thing.

That Trent wasn’t a character from a RomCom, and not even Trent Crimm - Independent, but instead a real human being that Ted was lucky enough to be loved by.

Who had chosen Ted as his partner.

“For someone who’s constantly talking,” Trent pushed his glasses into his hair, “you have a remarkable ability to say nothing at-“

“I’m sorry.” Ted meant it. Meant it completely and honestly, meant it from the bottom of his heart.

“You’re sorry? Why are you sorry?”

“Taking you for granted.”

“Excuse me?” Trent sounded mildly offended, which was better than truly offended, Trent clearly more intrigued than angry, which was an extremely welcomed development. 

“I didn’t understand, but I think, no, I know that I’m taking you for granted.”

“Ted, this is-“

“I don’t appreciate you enough.” Ted reached across the table, grabbing Trent’s forearm and forcing him into uncrossing them so Ted could take his hand, the table still between them. “I don’t appreciate you nearly enough.” 

“Did Keeley or Rebecca talk to you?” Trent looked suspicious, Ted resisting the urge to squirm, to curl in on himself like the shrimp in his pasta.

“No?”

“Hmm.” Trent didn’t pull away, Ted feeling more and more calm, more and more centered, awake and relaxed the longer he held onto Trent. “You’re not taking me for granted Ted-“

Ted opened his mouth to argue, but Trent hooked his foot around his ankle again.

“I am where I am because of the choices I make, and you don’t owe me for--“

“I owe you everything.”

Ted owned Trent this life, their life, in reality, his life. 

He owed Trent his home, owed Trent that he was back at the best job he had ever had, owed Trent his purpose, owned Trent that his life wasn’t a complete disaster, owned Trent for the selfless way he loved Henry, for the way Trent allowed him to be Isabella’s Teddy, for the effort Trent put into their relationship, for the consideration Trent extended to Michelle, for the way Trent had caught him and loved him when Ted had shown up on his doorstep a complete mess-

“You do so much for me.”

Trent supported him, literally and figuratively, like no one else had ever done.

Like no one else ever would.

He was the foundation of Ted’s life, and Ted had to pay attention to that, had to-

“Ted-“ Trent tightened his grip on Ted’s hand. “Our relationship, our life, isn’t about a tit for tat, there isn’t some, some scoreboard where either of us are supposed to keep track of what we do for each other.”

Ted swallowed, Trent’s words so honest, so raw.

“You and I are a team, and I do what I want and wish to do, and what I want is to be with you.”

“You should consider writing a book.” 

Ted had meant it as a light stab at Trent’s intricate sentences, at the way he expressed himself when he was pushed to the edge, but once he had said it out loud, Ted had another revelation that it was actually kind of weird that Trent wasn’t currently working on a book.

Because shouldn’t he be working on a book?

Trent certainly had the skills for it, and while Ted had only chewed his way through the Richmond Way a handful of times, he knew that it was a great, no, an excellent work of nonfiction.

“And you should consider shutting up.”

Ted laughed, and it felt wonderful, Trent joining in with an exasperated huff and a smile. Ted twisted their wrists, intertwining their fingers, palms against palms as he stroked his thumb up and down the back of Trent’s hand.

They were quiet, but this time, they were quiet together, Ted leaning into it, silence not a frightening thing when he was with Trent, but instead something that was fragile and special and theirs.

“I know,” Ted looked over at Trent, “that I said it yesterday, but I’m saying it again-“

Ted was unsure if Trent needed to hear this, but Ted needed to say it.

“Because things will be different from now on- I’ll do better, I’ll-“

“Ted-“ Trent pulled Ted forward, Ted’s stomach bumping into the table, the collision hurting a little, but it didn’t matter, Trent looking directly at him. “We don’t need all of that.”

“We don’t?” Ted swallowed.

“No.” Trent shook his head, “because you’ll be you, and I’ll be me, and we’ll figure things out.”

“Together?” Ted didn’t mean to sound so hopeful, so relieved, but Trent smiled at him, soft and sweet and perfect.

“Together.”

Ted felt like a weight had been lifted off of him, his body so light he could practically fly away, relief flooding his system.

He was so grateful, beyond grateful, for Trent, Ted squeezing his hand.

“I’m sorry I always say things the wrong way around.”

“It’s been less than ideal, but Ted,” Trent flipped his glasses down, pushing them up his nose, “I think we could both live for another 200 years, and you’d still not be able to have anything come out as unfortunate as the Denver Broncos analogy.”

“Yeah…” Ted clicked his tongue, his reaction to Colin’s coming out not his brightest moment, his own feelings and Trent’s presence and everything that was going on around him causing one of his biggest verbal diarrhea moments, Ted unaware where the story was even going until he had made it to the part about the toilet. He didn’t want to reminisce about that, especially not when Trent had laid out the tastiest little conversational treat with his suggestion that they’d live another 200 years. “So, how are we making it to the year 3000? Because if you ask me, I think you’d make a very sexy vampire.”

Chapter Text

Trent flicked to the last page of the menu, his glasses in his hair. They were in the hotel restaurant, seated across from each other, a breadbasket and glasses of water already on their table.

It was a very nice place, the tables all placed so no one could eavesdrop on conversations that didn’t concern them, Rebecca picking the perfect hotel for them, discretion clearly key.

They were supposed to have made it down for breakfast, but Trent had been unable to keep his hands off of a sleepy and cuddlewarm Ted.

It hadn’t been his intention, Ted suggesting yesterday that they should make the most of their little mini break and explore the area around Hyde Park, which Trent had agreed to.

One thing had led to another however and Trent had ended up coming between Ted’s tits. It had been a fantastic orgasm, Ted jerking himself off while Trent used his body.

It had taken a while though, and when they had finally gotten washed and dressed, it had seemed like too much of a hassle to leave the hotel before their spa reservation.

Trent did, technically, feel bad about their change of plans.

They weren’t wasting their time in bed, Trent insatiable when it came to Ted, but he did hope that Ted would be receptive to his secret mission to secure them tickets for a West End show, so that they didn't end up spending their entire first vacation together entirely cooped up indoors.

Though the morning had been utterly perfect, Ted beyond beautiful in the throes of passion.

“I’ll have the-“ Trent looked up at their waiter, but before he could flip to the correct page, and give him his order, Ted cut in. 

“Whatever the chefs recommend.”

Trent looked over at Ted, who was smiling earnestly, a slightly manic energy radiating off of him, which meant that it’d be useless to argue, Trent swallowing a heavy sigh.

“Are you certain sir?” Their waiter held his arms behind his back, standing straight at attention.

“Heck yeah.” 

Trent noticed that Ted hadn’t even opened his menu, which was so typical of him. 

“We wanna be surprised. Give us the whole shebang.”

Trent considered speaking up, since he had his eyes on a white fish fillet with lemon, but the Ted train had long since left the station, Trent settling in for the ride.

“I’m thinking we do entrees, a couple of appetisers, some scrumptious dessert, more of that whole bread and butter situation.”

Trent fully agreed with that, the whipped butter and flakey salt something he couldn’t wait to get his hands on. 

“We’re up for anything, as long as that anything doesn’t include flan, or creme brulee-“

Trent bit his cheek, Ted surprisingly against any kind of flambeed sugar.

“Oh, and I ain’t about the frog legs either, or the snails, though, now that I said it aloud, the frog legs could be real good. I mean, I’m a crawfish man, and how different-”

Their waiter looked at Trent, an uncertain and slightly panicked look in his eyes, which Trent completely understood, Ted going full Ted a lot if you weren’t used to it.

“We’d like a tasting menu with a wine pairing. Please.”

Their waiter visibly relaxed, his stiff shoulders lowering, “Yes sir.”

He grabbed their menus and scuttled off, Trent turning his attention towards Ted who had apparently only taken the conversation pause as a bump in the road, Trent tuning in for a tale about roadtripping to eat seafood boil in Louisiana.

~~~

Ted felt like he was walking on air, his body as light as a feather, every little bit of him practically glowing from within. He was wrapped in the fluffiest bathrobe, the softest pair of white slippers on his feet, a man leading him down a hallway.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so utterly relaxed, Ted kneaded through by a very competent massage therapist, Gabriel working at the hotel while he waited for his boyfriend to finish his internship so they could move back home to Spain.

Or, Ted was pretty sure it was Spain, Gabriel telling him about it while he had made his way up Ted’s calves, the release of tension he hadn’t even known he had been holding so good he had let out a series of moans and groans.

“Almost there sir.” Gabriel looked over his shoulder at Ted, the masseuse taking him to the private spa area that had been booked in advance for them, Ted so very grateful for the way Rebecca had thought ahead.

“Sir? Oh no, you don’t gotta do all that.” Ted grinned, “people who got me making noises like you just done did are definitely calling me Ted.”

“I’ll make sure to remember that sir.” 

“Ha,” Ted stuffed his hands into the pockets of his bathrobe. “Coldbloded. I respect that.”

Gabriel smiled, and they continued walking, Ted passing several doors that led into beautiful atriums or private rooms, pools of varying sizes behind the glass doors, Ted noticing that a curtain had been pulled to cover some of the doors, a fizzle of excitement running up his spine.

Ted didn’t exactly mind a crowd, but he looked forward to soaking without the risk of an audience, Ted so excited to get his toes into some water, and maybe even shuck his swim shorts off for a bit of skinny dipping if he could get away with it.

It had been ages, years, decades, since Ted had last played in the lakes and creeks and watering holes of Kansas, but there was something special about going commando in a body of water, and Ted certainly wouldn’t mind if Trent decided to join him.

Thinking of Trent. They had been separated for their massages, Ted pulled away from their dressing room area before he had even had the chance to kiss Trent goodbye, or at least watch him undress.

“Here we go sir.” Gabriel stopped in front of a door, taking a step to the side to let Ted in.

“Thanks man,” Ted wished he had his wallet, so he could give Gabriel a fat tip, but he wasn’t even wearing his swim shirt, “I appreciate you.”

Ted opened the door to the room, heat hitting him in the face.

It was a beautiful space, a heated pool in a bean shape taking up the middle of the room, blue mosaic tiles covering the floor and walls, the roof entirely made of glass.

Ted reached out to lock the door, and draw the curtain, shielding them from bypassers without a second thought.

The soft sounds of a tropical jungle were played from a set of speakers, Ted spotting a door that led to what had to be a set of saunas, a cold water tub, a couple of showerheads and a jacuzzi in the room too.

It looked like heaven on earth, Ted beyond ready for an afternoon of complete relaxation, of no responsibilities or complex thoughts.

Except maybe some naughty ones.

Trent was lying on a sunchair in a matching bathrobe, a pillow behind his head, a book in his hand. There were a table of drinks and snacks next to him, but Ted barely noticed it because Trent had one leg up, foot flat against the sunbed, his robe parted, Trent somehow looking like a freaking supermode-

“Hello Theodore.”

Ted tore his eyes away from Trent’s thigh, his boyfriend looking at him, a smirk on his lips. His hair was hanging loose, soft curls falling down his shoulders, and Ted wanted to kiss him senseless.

“Did you have a nice time?”

“I feel brand spanking-“ Uh. They’d actually never done that. Ted had no idea if he’d like it, but maybe- If Trent wouldn’t mind- Wait. Wow. Ted really needed to get his thoughts under control, but Trent looked so good, lying there like he was the main course on a- “new.”

Ted abandoned his slippers before walking over to Trent, the tile warm under his feet.

It felt like something had been added to the air. Maybe, it was eucalyptus, not that Ted particularly cared, but it was a nice touch, the scent adding to the illusion that they were in their own little world.

Ted sat down on the foot of the sunbed next to Trent, his body twisted towards him. 

“Did you get a massage?” It wasn’t what Ted had expected to say, and he hadn’t even gotten his hello kiss yet, but- “Because you don’t seem like someone who’s been kneaded through.”

Trent was gorgeous, always gorgeous, but he didn’t seem half as relaxed as Ted felt, his shoulders still tight-

“I’m not that fond,” Trent used his thumb to bend the bottom corner of the page he had been on, “of strangers touching me.”

Ted wrinkled his nose, suddenly worried if Trent thought of Gabriel giving him a massage as something Ted shouldn’t have said yes to, his stomach doing an unpleasant little swoop at the thought of someone getting all up in Trent’s business.

“I have had a very,” Trent closed his book, "pleasant time though.”

He sat up, swinging his legs off of the sunbed, their knees bumping as he leans in.

“Hello.” Trent smiled, and then, he’s kissing Ted, and Ted melts into it.

It’s the briefest touch of lips, but it’s familiar and it’s them and Ted gets to do this. 

Gets to indulge in Trent, gets to enjoy this man who loves him so much, who-

Trent pulled back, gentle and sweet, a smirk on his lips.

“So that’s how it is?” Trent reached up, thumb and index finger touching his cheek, tilting his head. “You didn’t get enough this morning?”

Ted swallowed, not nodding or shaking his head, Trent clearly ready to play with him if he asked, but Ted wasn’t sure if he could, the door locked but they were still so exposed, so-

“You wanna get in the pool?” He had spoken without thinking, changing the subject the cowards way out, but Trent just chuckled, releasing Ted before pulling back, Ted nearly chasing after him, Trent’s touch all he wanted.

“Not particularly.” Trent settled back down in his chair, his book resting on his stomach, “but you should get in.”

“You sure?” Ted looked over at the pool, the water crystal clear and so inviting. “We could play mermaids? I’ll let you have first pick of tail color-“

“You seem to have forgotten that I do not know how to swim.”

Ted had kind of forgotten that, his boyfriend was so very capable that it felt wrong when there was something he didn’t know how to do.

“I could teach-“

“No.”

Ted snorted, Trent’s no the kind you didn’t argue with, that left no wiggle room for negotiations, but Ted had never been someone who made smart decisions in the face of adversity.

Immovable objects hated to watch Ted Lasso roll up, especially if said immovable object was a grumpy bumpy no funisies Trent Crimmsies.

“You won’t even get in?” Ted put on his most exaggerated pout, putting his elbows on his knees so he could rest his head on his hands, Ted fluttering his lashes.

“Ted-“

“I didn’t hear a Theodore,” Ted smiled, fluttering his lashes some more. “Please? Please please please please-“

“You-“ Trent sat up straight, an annoyed huff leaving him, “are insufferable.”

“You love it,” Ted grinned, “come on. You want to get in. I know you want to. I bet you’re all wrapped up and ready underneath that robe of yours. You should live a little, have some-”

“How deep is the pool?”

Ted shot out of his seat, chucking off his slippers shedding his robe and leaving it on the floor, which made Trent laugh, Ted practically wagging his tail in delight at the way Trent allowed him to indulge in his own silliness.

He lowered himself into the pool, the water settling just below his pecs. It was warm, and only smelled faintly like chlorine, Ted sure he’d get from one end to the other in about four breast strokes, but this was a pool for lounging, and not olympic swimming.

“Tadah.”

Ted held his hands up, turning in a little circle, Trent’s eyes on him when he came back around.

“It’s nice.” Ted smiled, weaving his fingers through the water. “Not cold at all.”

“Fine.” Trent stood up, Ted nearly fistpumping at his success, “but don’t attempt to teach me how to swim because I refuse to suffer the indignity.”

Ted had a cheeky reply ready at the tip of his tongue, but then, Trent opened his robe, the thing sliding off of him, and Ted felt his mouth go dry.

Trent was-

He-

Oh god.

Trent was practically naked, except for the filthiest, tiniest, hottest little black speedo.

Ted was drinking in the long lines of Trent’s body, his wiry and slender frame, Ted looking up up up as Trent came closer, as he walked to the edge of the pool.

He was one of the sexiest things Ted had ever seen, Trent the picture of masculine perfection, his long hair, the bulge, his skin, his shoulders, his thighs, his arms, his hands.

Ted had no idea how he had ever deluded himself into thinking that he was exclusively heterosexual.

Because damn.

Ted wanted to eat Trent, wanted to devour him, wanted to figure out how poetry worked so he could write sonnets dedicated to Trent, or do whatever it was Shakespeare had going on, Ted not truly listening when Beard had lectured him about the intricacies of Shakespeare's literary legacy. 

Trent sat down at the edge of the pool, his boyfriend clearly not noticing how Ted was about to knock down the pearly gates so he could gain entrance to horny heaven, Trent making a discontented little sound as he put his legs into the water.

“It’s cold.” Trent wrinkled his nose, wiggling his toes, Ted sure that he was lying. “I’ll just-“

“Get on in.” Ted swam over to the edge, settling with his chest to Trent’s knees, his hands leaving the water.

He thought he had been smooth, but Trent clocked him immediately.

“Theodore-“ There was a harsh warning in Trent’s voice, “Don’t you dare-“ Trent inched backwards, but his legs were trapped, Ted reaching out, hands on thighs.

“No-“

Ted pulled, using all of his strength, taking Trent with him as he threw his weight back, a loud splash filling the room as Trent hit the water.

“Ted!” Trent clung to him immediately, holding him so tight it hurt a little. He felt arms close around his head, feet locking behind his back, legs squeezing his ribs.

Ted laughed, Trent hopping mad, his boyfriend practically hissing, Ted’s face smashed to Trent’s chest.

“This“ Trent spat, “isn’t funny-“

Ted could, Ted should, maybe, apologize, but instead, he simply walked backwards, Trent practically weightless in the water, his boyfriend clinging to him like a koala.

“I got you baby.”

“Don’t call me that.” Trent had started cradling Ted’s hand instead of crushing it, Ted pulling back slightly so he could look up, his chin digging in, one hand moving from thigh to ass.

“Hey.” 

Ted knew he had to have a shit eating grin on his face, but he had Trent in his arms, and what felt like complete privacy, the world boiled down to contain the two of them and nothing else.

There were still waves in the pool, the water splashing.

“If you drop me, there’ll be hell to pay.”

“Yes sir.” 

“Shut up.” Trent still sounded annoyed, but he stayed in Ted’s arms, allowing Ted to take his weight, to carry him around.

Trent wasn't exactly a heavy man, but there was no way Ted would be able to do this on land, the water allowing him to stay in the fantasy that he’d be strong enough to do this with Trent.

That he’d be able to treat Trent like a damsel.

Not that Trent truly needed his help in that way, but Ted could dream. 

Trent had finally relaxed enough that he had slid down a little, his legs more around Ted’s waist and less digging into his ribs, his arms around his neck.

“Do you think we could float like this?” Ted wanted to push off from the bottom of the pool, but he felt a hand in his hair, Trent moving his head, fingers digging in.

“If you get my hair wet,” Trent looked directly at him, eyes locked, “I’ll bite you.”

“Uhh,” Ted smirked, the urge to act like a brat welling up inside of, “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

“I want out.” Trent tried to twist, but Ted tightened his grip.

“Stay.” Ted held Trent, both hands settled on his ass, Ted embarrassingly into the way he couldn’t help but toy with the fabric, fingers sneaking under the spandex. “I got you.”

~~~

Trent couldn’t believe that he had allowed Ted to trick him into the steam bath.

So much for the shreds of his dignity, Trent practically panting.

It was so unbearably hot, sweat dripping down his skin, Ted sitting on the other bench in the small room, the air thick and heavy.

Trent could barely see anything, Ted just the outline of a man, Trent’s glasses left behind long ago since water and glasses did not generally mix. 

Ted’s hair had to be sticking to his head, satisfied sounds coming from his side of the bath, Ted practically melted into the bench, the fact that he wasn’t chatting away a sign of how content he had to be.

They had spent what felt like ages in the pool, kissing and talking, Ted carrying Trent around until his fingers and toes had wrinkled, and even then, it had taken considerable effort to get Ted out of the water, Trent’s boyfriend apparently more than happy to carry him around until the end of time. 

It should be embarrassing how into it Trent had been, how he had felt so safe and cared for in Ted’s arms that he hadn’t minded the chlorine and the ebb and flow of the water, the wet cold barely bothering him. 

Trent hadn’t been able to think about anything besides how nice it was to be so close, to have the time to fall into each other, to let the pieces that had drifted apart settle back in.

To let Ted be there for him, to lean on him, to literally allow him to take his weight, and carry him.

Trent felt sticky, and hot, and he was about to tell Ted that he was tapping out, that he’d escape back to his book, when another round of steam filled the room.

“Oh fuck me.” 

Trent had no idea how he’d salvage the now undoubtedly curly mess on his head, Trent actually succeeding in getting them tickets for Hadestown while Ted had gotten his massage. 

The tickets had been hideously overpriced, but he knew that Ted would love-

“That an offer, or are you just teasing?”

Trent narrowed his eyes, looking in the direction of Ted’s voice.

“Does this turn you on?”

Trent couldn’t pretend that he was entirely unaffected by their proximity and intimacy, but he hadn’t pushed for anything, since he didn’t want to cross Ted’s boundaries, Trent well acquainted with Ted’s midwestern sensibility.

“You looking hotter than hell during a heatwave?”

“Thank you for the flattery,” Trent knew he sounded dismissive, but there was no way that Ted was being anything but his normal, silly self, that this wasn’t something he was just saying to be kind. “I’ll be-“

Trent stood up, but he felt hands reach out, Ted grabbing his hips.

“You think I ain’t being serious?” Ted pulled Trent in, spreading his legs so Trent could fit between them. “The entire time we’ve been in here, I’ve been trying to compose a haiku about your ass-“

“What?” Trent snorted, his eyes widening. Ted had to have suffered some sort of head trauma, his boyfriend probably slipping on the tiles while Trent hadn’t been paying attention. “That’s insane-“

“But I can’t remember how many words I’m allowed, and while they say brevity is the soul of wit.”

“I believe that that they is Shakespeare.”

Trent had no idea Ted even knew Shakespeare, Trent unfortunately forced to memorize plenty of it at Eton.

“Brevity has never really been my thing, so I-“

Trent tried to pull back, the steam clinging to his skin, but Ted didn’t let go, his fingers digging in, Trent moaning at the pain, Ted usually never this forceful.

“Don’t leave before I get to eat you out.” Ted stood, his hands never leaving Trent’s hips, an actual whine in his voice. 

“What?” Trent swallowed, his knees going weak. 

Did Ted want to eat him out? Did he want to-

In here? Now?

Trent imagined lying on the tiles, letting Ted-

“Please,” Ted tugged at Trent, their bodies flushed against each other, Trent suddenly hyper aware of just how hard Ted was. “I can’t- I need- I have to, here. Now. With you looking like that- You’re the sexiest man alive.”

Trent wanted to argue, wanted to tell Ted that he was being overdramatic, that he was using hyperbole, but in that moment, in this very moment, it felt like Ted was telling the absolute truth, Trent truly becoming the sexiest man alive, because Ted made it so.

~~~

“Oh god,” Ted wiped at his eyes with his handkerchief, another sniffle leaving him. 

Ted had been overjoyed when Trent had said that he had gotten them tickets for a West End show, Ted eagerly jumping on the opportunity to dress up, both of them in their suits, Trent looking extra dapper since he had thought far enough ahead to bring a matching coat, while Ted had rocked his Richmond puffer.

Which was a little bit unfortunate, but it seemed like Trent hadn’t minded.

They hadn’t been recognised at the show, or, if they had, no one had said anything, which felt similar enough, Ted just another face in the crowd at the theater.

“I swear I’m about two seconds away from being so dehydrated, that I’mma turn into a raisin, Cinderella style.”

“Funny.” Trent smiled at him, their fingers intertwined, the two of them walking down the streets of London. “Because that’s not how I remember that particular fairytale.”

“Me neither.” Ted blew his nose, his handkerchief embarrassingly wet.

Ted had been somewhat familiar with the story of Orpheus and Eyridice, Henry’s Percy Jackson phase never really ending, but Hadestown had made the story come alive in a whole new way, Ted sobbing so hard he had snot coming out of his nose for the closing number. 

“Oh sweet boy.” Trent sounded equally amused and fond, love rolling off of him in waves. “You complete mess.” 

It was crazy, how Trent could call Ted a mess, how he could say a word to him that used to be downright trigger, feeling like a mess and being a mess something Ted used to spiral over, acting messy one of his worst fears, and yet, with Trent, it simply felt like a term of endearment.

A nickname.

A sweet and silly thing they shared.

Ted took a shaky breath in, Trent giving his hand a squeeze while he smiled, leading the way so Ted only had to follow, which made a fresh stream of tears fall from Ted’s eyes. 

How good it felt to be loved, for all that he was.

Chapter Text

Trent was slowly sipping his coffee, the sofa he was sitting in turned towards the panorama windows in their room. 

The sun had come up a while ago, Trent sure that the view of Hyde Park would be absolutely stunning if they had visited during summer or spring or even autumn.

Trent had woken up to a regular avalanche of texts from Keeley, someone apparently spotting them last night and snapping several pictures of Ted, photos of him crying so hard snot came out of his nose circulating Twitter and Reddit, a couple of blogs picking the story up too.

The tone was overwhelmingly positive, most touched by how touched Ted was, but Trent hoped that the story wouldn’t breach containment, and that an actual celebrity would get involved in something tabloid worthy soon, so no one would print the pictures of Ted, but it didn’t do a man well to dream.

Keeley hadn’t reached out to Ted, which was probably nice of her, Ted presently unaware of the photos that were circulating online, though Trent suspected that it had less to do with protecting Ted’s feelings, and more to do with the fact that it appeared that Keeley was mad at Ted.

Trent didn’t think Ted had noticed, but Keeley hadn’t talked to him about anything that wasn’t directly work related since Ted had shared about the… Less than ideal state of his personal finances.

“Wait, so what happened?”

Trent took another sip of his coffee, Ted on his phone and walking around behind him. He had about half a croissant left, Ted demolishing the majority of the breakfast platters Trent had ordered for them, Ted’s phone ringing while he was chewing on a bite of scrambled eggs.

Ted was talking to someone from Nelson Road, and though he wasn’t supposed to come in until tomorrow, Trent felt so confident that Ted would need a car that he had already texted Rebecca to please send her driver.

“Oh, yeah, no, that’s a bit of a stinky sitch.” Ted came back around, Trent able to look at him in the window glass, Ted trudging from one end of the rooms to the other. “And it’s definitely sprained? Shoot.”

Trent picked a strawberry and bit into it, juice threatening to drip down his chin. 

The reporter part of his brain was desperately curious about which Richmond player that had suffered an injury, but the part of him that had sucked Ted’s cock before leaving the bed, felt lazy and satisfied and very disinclined to move or seek out information unless he absolutely had to.

“Are we sure it’s in his contract that he can’t play Just Dance? Because that sounds oddly specific, and I’d hate to have to pull out the disciplinary action card. Wow. Okay. It’s actually mentioned by name? Well, would you look at that.”

Trent tried to decide if he wanted to take one last shower before leaving, the rain feature in their main bathroom something he hadn’t had a chance to indulge in yet, when he heard his name.

“Trent?”

“Yes sweetheart?” Trent twisted his head to look over at Ted, his boyfriend already fully dressed for the day, Ted someone who preferred to have all of his clothes on before eating breakfast, which Trent found as silly as he found it charming.

“I’m really sorry,” Ted held a hand over the bottom part of his phone, “but I have to go to work. Dani’s injured-“

“Awh,” Trent wrinkled his nose, Dani such a good person that it felt extra unfair that he was the one who had been struck by ill fortune. “Will he be okay?”

“Yumna says he should be good as new after a week or two, but we needa shuffle the strategy for Saturday around.”

“I figured.” Trent put his cup down, his phone lying on the table. “I already ordered you a car, but-“

“What?” Ted looked equal parts confused and uncomfortable, Trent unsure why he’d react like that.

“It should be here in about 20, so you’ll have time to finish your call and your breakfast.” Trent vaguely gestured towards the leftovers on the table. “I didn’t bring an extra set of coaching clothes, but I can contact Leslie and have something-“

“Yumna,” Ted held the phone back up to his ear, “I’ll call you back.”

Seemed like it was Trent’s turn to feel uncomfortable.

“Are you feeling alright darling?” Trent pushed off of the couch, turning around to sit on his knees so he could look directly at Ted without twisting his neck. “What do you-“

“You’re not mad at me?”

“No?” Trent snorted, Ted’s suggestion idiotic. “Why would I be mad? Yumna wouldn’t ask you to come in unless it was serious.”

Ted nodded, though he was clearly waiting for something, for the conversation to continue, for Trent to-

Oh fuck.

“Ted.” Trent sighed. “Sweet boy. I won’t feel neglected-“ Trent should never have allowed that word to enter the conversation, should never have acted in a way that meant Ted had started worrying, should never have let it become a factor in the relationship, the word neglect clearly taking root in Ted’s brain, “because I have to check out of a hotel by myself.”

“Are you sure?” Ted didn’t pout, but it was a near thing, so Trent reached out without thinking, hands finding Ted’s hips. 

“I’ll be perfectly okay.” Trent gave Ted a sweet kiss, their lips touching. “I promise. Now, go do your job Coach Lasso.”

“You’re just saying that because you want us to win.” Ted rested his forehead against Trent’s, their noses touching.

“I am absolutely,” Trent smiled, “saying that because I want Richmond to win, but against City, I’ll take a tie.”

“Ha,” Ted snorted, and Trent kissed the tip of his nose. “You know I don’t-“

“Believe in ties. I’m well aware, but in this case, as your boyfriend, and a devout Richmond fan, I’m asking for a medium sized miracle, thank you and please.” Trent bumped their forehead gently together, Ted letting out a happy little sigh of relief when Trent kissed him again.

~~~

“And you’re sure,” Michelle closed Henry’s car door, her son standing on the sidewalk. “you have everything?” 

“Yes Mom.” Henry threw his duffle over his shoulder, his school bag already on, her not so little boy standing up tall, Michelle doing all that she could not to let the anxious bubbles in her belly reflect on her face.

It had been amazing to have so much time with Henry, to let herself soak up all the little bits of her son, to have the time for lazy days and do whatever Henry wanted, but it was Tuesday now, and Henry couldn’t wait to see his Dad.

“That’s good…”

It shouldn’t feel this weird to drop Henry off at Ted and Trent’s house, but Michelle didn’t know how to act around Ted, didn’t know how she was supposed to play her part in this bit of the coparenting script, Michelle only delivering Henry to this particular doorstep a handful of times. 

“I got it all under control." Henry smiled up at her, and Henry did, indeed, somehow seem to have it all under control. 

More under control than she had.

Michelle had told Henry during breakfast that she’d text Ted about when they could swing by, but Henry had simply replied that he had already texted Trent himself, and that he was expected for his afternoon snack at 3:15.

It felt like yesterday that Henry had needed help to tie his shoes, her boy growing at lightning speed, Henry becoming a proper teenager right before her eyes.

A teenager who had packed his own bag, who helped her with chores of his own volition, who wrote his own texts, and who had asked her if they could please have a meeting to organize and plan his birthday party so he’d have plenty of time to send out invitations.

Michelle wanted to talk about all of it with Ted, wanted to ask how he was handling Henry’s rapid growth, how he made space for his development and his need for autonomy without accidentally setting him up for failure.

Instead, she had what amounted to radio silence in Ted world. 

Ted wasn’t impolite, but he didn’t reach out either, he didn’t joke around with her, didn’t ask any follow up questions, Michelle unable to remember the last time Ted had sent her a gif, when it used to be his favorite means of communication.

“Of course.” Michelle smiled. “Can I have one for the road?”

Michelle opened her arms, and even though Henry rolled his eyes, he stepped into her embrace. She hugged him tight, even squeezing him a little, Henry laughing against her shoulder.

She knew she’d see Henry again soon, that it was only a week and a half without his company, but Michelle would be leaving for America in the evening, and she almost couldn’t bear the thought of having an ocean between them.

“I love you Bubba.”

“Love you too Momma.” 

Michelle heard the front door to Ted and Trent’s house open behind her, and she felt Henry get on his toes to look over her shoulder.

“Dad!” Henry wiggled out of her arms and pushed past her, her little boy running to his Daddy, Henry taking the steps two at a time, Ted catching him in his arms.

It was a proper reunion, Henry abandoning his duffle so he could get lifted up, Ted easily able to take Henry’s weight. 

Wow. Michelle knew Ted was stronger than he looked, but-

They had watched the Ipswich match on TV, and he had been…. On screen… but she hadn’t seen Ted in the flesh since…

Since Trent had guided her towards Rebecca, Ted clasping his hand on her shoulder in the backstage area before he had turned his full attention to Henry, Michelle barely a comma.

“I missed you so much buddy!” Ted put Henry down, a gigantic grin on his face and Michelle swallowed, bittersweet love and joy and heartache swirling around in her body.

It was amazing to watch Henry be so happy, but it also hurt to see Ted.

Especially when he dared look…

Good.

Great, even. 

He was practically glowing, and obviously well rested, Ted looking like someone who had been having the kind of sex-

Wow. Michelle pumped the brake, stopping her train of thought before it could develop fully.

It wasn’t any of her business how Ted had spent his hotel time, and it especially wasn’t any of her business how Ted had spent any and all hotel time with Trent.

It was just one of those things that she couldn’t help but be curious about, even though she knew that it had killed the cat.

She shouldn’t wonder about how Ted and Trent kissed, if Trent knew that Ted liked to have a hand in his hair, that he’d melt into you if you sat in his lap, that he’d-

Michelle sincerely hoped that she’d meet someone on her vacation, the selection in her sister's small town in Michigan not the greatest, but she apparently desperately needed to get laid. 

Not that she wanted Ted back, she didn’t, but it had been…

Years, since she had last kissed Ted on the mouth, years since she had been the center of his universe, and now, she felt like more of a footnote, and she missed him.

Missed him with a constant, dull ache, Ted still her best friend, even though they weren’t married anymore.
 
“Alright big guy.” Ted put Henry done, his feet hitting the top of the stairs. “Why don’t you head inside? Trent’s waiting for you-“

“With cocoa?”

“Ask him yourself.” 

Henry grinned and pushed past Ted, Henry yelling out Trent’s name as he disappeared into the house.

“Don’t forget your duffle!” Ted picked it up, looking directly at Michelle. “Other people's kids, huh?”

“Right…” Michelle made the quick decision that she needed to get the hell out, before she said or did something she couldn’t take back. 

She raised her hand, expecting a quick wave to be enough, for Ted to just nod at her from a distance, but then-

“Nuh uh, don’t you even think about thinking about doing anything but stay stuck to that spot Chelle!”

Ted turned around, getting the duffle inside before she could properly react, Ted reappearing with two travel mugs in his hands.

“Ted?” Michelle narrowed her eyes. She had kept her distance because it seemed like that was what Ted wanted, or needed, if she was being honest, but that whole setup did not look like distance. 

“Do you wanna go on a walk? If you have time?”

“What?”

Ted walked down the stairs, holding out one of the cups. “I made you a tea.”

“Oh…” Michelle took it, the thermos hot on her hand. She knew the tea would be god awful, Ted never listening when she had told him not to seep the bags, or use so much sugar her teeth felt fuzzy, but in that moment, it didn’t matter at all, tears threatening to well up in her eyes. “Thank you.”

“So you got a minute? I know you’re flying-“

“I got as long as you need.” Michelle smiled, looking up at Ted, who smiled back, though it didn’t truly reach his eyes, a lingering sadness there that Michelle desperately wanted to wipe away.

Even if she was probably the cause of it, her stomach clenching with guilt in the way it used to constantly do when they were married.

“Come on.” Ted nudged her with his shoulder, and pointed down the road. “Let’s go for a walk.” 

“Really?” Ted had already put one foot in front of the other, Michelle instinctively falling into step, “You think it’s smart for us to be walking and talking?”

Ted had always been someone who was well known in his community, his genuine friendliness and giant heart making him sort of famous everywhere he went, but in England, Ted was household name famous, since the Brits really cared about their soccer.

“I don’t think I can talk if we sit.” Ted didn’t look at her as he said it, but Michelle still felt a swoop in her stomach. 

“We’re talking? Like, talking talking.”

“Yup.” Ted pops the P, a little of his silly coming out, which made Michelle feel so relieved she could melt into a puddle. “It’s been long overdue, and I’m trying to do better. I owe that to- Unless you wanna tap out?” 

“No. No, absolutely not.”

Michelle wanted to talk to Ted, had wanted to talk, had needed to talk so badly, but Ted had needed the space, and he deserved that.

“Good.” Ted still didn’t look at her, but he reached out, using his right hand to grab her left, the two of them still fitting together in this small way.

They walked for a little while, Michelle sensing that Ted needed the moments to be silent, that this wasn’t the time to push.

It wasn’t something she excelled at, but Ted felt so fragile, and she didn’t want to damage him.

“You hurt-“ Ted cut himself off with a swallow, Michelle holding her breath. “You hurt me with that phone call Michelle. You hurt me real bad.”

Michelle felt shame well up in her body, her stomach a giant knot. “I-“

“And it ain’t just about the trip to Birmingham.” Ted continued walking, “I shouldn’t have taken our boy without telling you, and I’m sorry about that.”

“Thank you.” Michelle felt the briefest moment of vindication, before the shame overtook her once more.

It had been wrong of Ted to take Henry with him, to let their boy show up on International TV without discussing it with her, but Michelle also knew now that she had overreacted, but she had felt so betrayed, and so alone.

So utterly, completely, and hopelessly alone.

“Thank you for accepting my apology.” Ted squeezed her hand. “It should be easy, shouldn’t it though? I mean, we used to talk all the time.”

“We did.” In fact, Michelle used to wish that Ted would shut up, at least sometimes. “Everything’s different.”

Michelle didn’t want to consider the Oklahoma of it all, but it felt like something had broken in both of them when they had started using it, Michelle wielding the word like a hammer, Oklahoma an excuse to take out all of her frustration on Ted, to make him understand why she felt like she was going insane.

“It is.” Ted nodded. ”I want us to be able to talk about these things, about parenting Henry and being… I want to help you, but-”

“It’s hard?”

“It’s hard. It’s really really hard. I know I’m not the best at being a listening box instead of a chatter box.”

Michelle took a sip of her tea, the liquid as bad as she had expected, but it was comforting too, the mouthful forcing her to keep quiet.

Ted had always been slippery, and it used to drive her crazy and make her so angry, Ted absolutely impossible to lock down if he didn’t want to talk about something. 

“But it’s also.” Ted turned to her, releasing her hand, the two of them standing on a random sidewalk in a random neighborhood, “I’mma try to get this right, okay, so don’t jump on me until I’m done.”

Michelle felt her temper flare, Ted so unfair with his choice of words. Michelle didn’t jump on him, but he was so thick skulled, so willfully ignorant that-

“I don’t want to let you down, but I will, and you’ll always be Henry’s Mom, you’ll always be one of my great loves, you’re my family, but Chelle, we need to shuffle things around, because my priorities haven’t been right and they haven’t been fair.”

Michelle didn’t whimper, but it was damned close, the bottom dropping out of her stomach.

“I only got 24 hours in the day, and I don’t wanna fail you. You gave me an amazing gift, moving here, and you’re the best parent Henry could have, and I want you to love England and I need you to stay here, need you-“

“Ted.” Even when Michelle had been at her angriest, she hadn’t even considered leaving England, Henry so obviously thriving with Ted’s attention, their son doing so much better in London than Michelle had ever dared hope for, Henry fitting in at Richmond in a way he had never managed in Kansas.

Michelle had always dreamed of living in Europe too, had always seen herself as someone who missed out on the experience of going abroad, of being one of those people who had interesting tales about ‘that one time I lived in X’

“I’m not saying any of this to get off the hook, but you needa understand. Most of the time, I barely got enough butter for the bread, and it’s hard to get the corners.”

Michelle swore she could physically feel her heart break in two, Ted telling her, to her face that he considered her a corner in his life.

If they were still married, she would have started crying, but they weren’t married, hadn’t been married for close to 5 years, and Michelle was the one who had asked for the divorce, the choice to separate hers and hers alone.

It sucked that these were the consequences of her actions, but it was also what she deserved, Ted a kinder and more involved ex husband than many of her old friends’ current husbands. 

“Ted-“ Michelle didn’t know how to reach out, didn’t know how to comfort him now, and Ted so obviously needed comfort.

“Right.” Ted turned around. “Come on. Let me show you the playground.”

Michelle let Ted lead the way, her ex walking in front of her, Ted clearly taking a moment to compose himself.

Trent’s house was in a more upscale neighborhood, so the playground was on the nicer side too, no one else there since it was February and closing in on dinner time.

Ted hadn’t said anything for a while, the silence growing between them. 

It felt weird to be quiet with Ted, Ted usually a waterfall of words.

Mlchelle took another sip of her tea, wondering if she should say something, if she should attempt to lift the mood, Ted always doing everything he could to make her feel better, which had just made her feel worse.

Maybe, she could tell some stories about Henry, share some of the things he had said and done in the past week.

Ask about his vacation, or about how Richmond would be playing City on Saturday

She could chat to him about how the birth of her new niece had gone, Cousin Dennis officially a big brother now. 

Ted didn’t like gossip, so Michelle hadn’t looped him in on the fact that little Willow was absolutely a save the marriage baby, her sister's husband running his third marathon in October.

Her tea was nearly empty, the last few mouthfuls as bitter as always, but they were also just right.

“You wanna go sit on the swings?”

“Actually,” Michelle smiled, a suggestion to sit on the swings instead of the bench so perfectly Ted, “I’d love that.”

Ted smiled back at her, and together, they crossed the sand to get on the swings, Ted taking her cup and putting it on the ground.

Michelle sat down, her thighs pressing against the metal chain that held the swing. She grabbed them, looking up to make sure it was properly secured.

“I feel like I’m-“ Michelle wanted to tell, or rather, retell, the story of being a little girl in her Grandma’s backyard, Ted already plenty familiar with the tale, but she had barely gotten anything out, when Ted opened his mouth. 

“Do you think I’m a bad Dad?”

Michelle paused, completely taken aback, Ted’s question not at all something she had expected, her brain needing a moment to understand what he had actually said before she could react.

“What?” Michelle twisted her swing, looking over at Ted. “No! No, absolutely not- Ted what are you-“

“You said that-“ Ted’s feet had dug into the ground, his hands in his lap. “On the phone.”

“I didn’t, I-“ Michelle tried to remember, tried to recall. She had called Ted a fun Dad, but she had never, would never, utter the word bad. “I didn’t. I promise. I swear on my life.”

“Okay.” Ted nodded, his eyes downcast, his hands slowly relaxing from the tight fists they had been crumbled into. “Okay…”

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?” Michelle almost didn’t dare ask, but she had to know.

“Avoid is a big word.”

“You haven’t sent a gif in three weeks.”

“Ha.” Ted huffed, a small smile on his lips. “Those are dire circumstances indeed. Michelle,” Ted twisted his swing so he could look at her too, their knees bumping into each other. “I’m sorry, I don’t- I started panicking pretty early on, and I can’t actually remember most of the call-“

“Oh…” Michelle knew Ted had panic attacks, but she had never seen one, had never experienced it first hand, the feeling that she was responsible for one sitting like a lead weight in her stomach. 

“Rebecca had to miss a meeting to come scrape me off the floor.”

“Ouch…” 

Michelle felt a bit like a priest, Ted clearly in a confessions kind of mood.

“Yeah. It wasn’t great. Everyone’s real cool with my panics, but it’s- I’m supposed to be a leader at work. I am a leader, and I do my job well, but-“ Ted sighed, “I know you’re entitled to your emotions Michelle, but you cannot ambush me like that.”

Michelle nodded slowly, the guilt so thick she could barely breathe. Ted hadn’t made a joke the entire time they had been talking, Michelle about ready to cry with how much Ted had to have been suffering, how he had obviously struggled. 

“We can talk, we need to talk, and we need better ways to talk, but you can’t call me like that when I’m at work.”

Michelle felt beyond ashamed, a few tears falling from her eyes. “I’m so sorry Ted…”

“I forgive you.”

Michelle instantly felt like she could breathe again, the guilt evaporating. It was crazy how Ted had an ability to just say those words, to hand out forgiveness and actually mean it, to leave the past in the past and move forward with love and compassion.

“Ted…” Michelle wanted to deserve his care, wanted to be allowed to lean on Ted, but a single sorry didn’t feel like enough, though she knew Ted would never say forgive if he carried a grudge.

“If you didn’t say bad Dad-“

Michelle wanted to cut him off already, wanted to tell Ted that he was a good Dad, the best Dad. She wanted to tell him how much Henry loved him, wanted to share how Henry was becoming so capable, and it certainly wasn’t her who was teaching him, which meant it had to be Ted-

“What did you say? Exactly.”

Shit.

Now, Michelle felt like the one who had to confess, and she didn’t want to, owning up to her words something she’d gladly avoid, but Ted deserved her honesty, but also her love. 

“I called you a fun Dad…”

“Oh…” Ted swallowed audibly, and Michelle wanted to explain, wanted to tell him why she’d say something like that, but Ted lifted his feet, his swing going back into place, Michelle clearly reading his signal of a need for space.

Ted started swinging back and forth, and Michelle did the same thing, the two of them the only souls on the playground.

Michelle hated how hard it had become to share her feelings with Ted, to be honest with him, to tell him her truth without hurting him. It used to be so easy, used to be so light.

In college, she had felt like she could tell Ted anything, but then, Ted had started fixing everything. He’d stopped listening to her, stopped just being there with her when she was sad or angry or upset, Ted so focused on erasing her negative emotions, or burrowing her grief, that he had been suffocating her.

“Ted-“ Michelle didn’t know if she was doing the right thing, but maybe, now that they weren’t so closely intertwined, now that they had become two separate beings, she could start sharing again. “I only said you’re a fun Dad, because I don’t feel like… I don’t feel like a very fun Mom.”

Michelle almost expected lightning to strike, for the earth to open and swallow her up, but nothing happened.

She had thought that Ted would immediately protest, that he wouldn’t allow her to continue talking, but he had just stopped swinging, brown eyes watching her intently.

“I have no idea what I’m doing most of the time, and I don’t think Henry isn’t having a good time at my house, but he’s constantly-“ Michelle sighed. “He’s growing up. Properly now, and- Coparenting is hard. Like. Really hard. Really really really hard.”

“It is.”

Michelle let out a sigh of relief, Ted agreeing with her lifting a gigantic boulder from her shoulders.

“I don’t know how other people do it.”

“Me neither.” Ted looked at her, and Michelle almost choked on the kindness in his eyes, Ted so full of love for her that she almost couldn’t handle it, since she didn’t deserve it. “Trent and Lilian make it look all goddamned easy.”

Michelle had to recall that Lilian was the name of Trent’s ex wife, which made her Isabella’s mother, Henry actually calling her a time or two to talk to Isabella while he had been staying with her, Michelle beyond touched at the way her little boy obviously felt like he had become a big brother.

“I don’t think they ever struggle with it, but, you and I-“ Ted reached out, Michelle grabbing his hand, “we’re two pretty smart cookies, so I think we’ll figure it out. Right?”

“Right.”

Chapter Text

”Dad!” Ted turned towards the sound of one of the best noises in the world, Ted instantly recognising Henry’s voice.

He grinned widely as he watched Henry run down the side of the pitch, Henry’s Richmond scarf flowing behind him, his son all flailing limbs and a giant smile, Ted so excited to see him.

It was Wednesday, and the squad were doing their post lunch warm ups, everyone splitting up into groups for the afternoon block. Ted had taken the first team with him, his starting line up no longer including Dani, Henry’s eternal enthusiasm and hero worship just what his fellas needed for a pick me up. 

“Hey bud-” 

Henry slammed into his side, and Ted felt the air get knocked out of him, a cough and a laugh leaving his mouth. 

“Ouff, watch out.” Ted looped an arm around Henry, “Be careful with your old man.”

He was probably supposed to be stern, but Ted couldn’t find it in his heart to be annoyed by Henry’s rough treatment, the fact that his son wanted to hug him at all, something Ted cherished deeply.

“Sorry.” Henry looked up at him, his chin digging into Ted’s side, Henry’s arms looped around his waist and Ted took the opportunity to sneak a sniff of Henry’s hair, Henry growing and growing and growing, Ted sure that Henry would be taller than him soon.

“That’s okay squid.” Ted gave Henry a squeeze. “Did you have a nice morning?”

“My homework took forever”

“Oh?” Ted grinned. He had made breakfast for all of them, pancakes specifically in honor of Henry’s return home. 

Ted had expected a nice family meal, for the challenge to be Trent getting up early and grumbling into his coffee until he had actually awoken, but as soon as Henry had sat down, he had asked if he could please come to Nelson Road.

It had taken Ted by surprise, since it hadn’t been in his plan, and in the moment, he had floundered completely, nothing coming to mind, bringing Henry along not fitting into the agenda at all, his brain flatlining.

Ted hated saying no to his son, hated disappointing Henry, but he didn't have the capacity to take Henry with him on his own, couldn’t split his attention between being Coach Lasso and Dad, not when he had just used so much of his energy on Michelle, and they had City on Saturday.

He should probably have saved his talk with Michelle for another day, but it felt- had been urgent, that he talked to her, that he had that conversation.

That he honored his commitment to making a difference for Trent, that he upheld his promise of doing better.

Ted had been about to tell Henry that he couldn’t tag along, but then, Trent had come to his rescue and saved his ass, his boyfriend putting down his coffee and telling Henry that he’d be willing to take him, that Trent would be responsible for him, and that they could leave once he had done his homework,Ted breathing an audible sound of relief.

Henry had replied that he had already finished it at Michelle’s house, but then, Trent had asked if he had just done it, or if he had done it well, Henry groaning, the homework clearly just done, and not done well.

Which was a distinction Ted had never thought to make, Ted leaving for the day with Henry and Trent at the living room table, Trent going over Henry’s work, the two of them in deep concentration.

Thinking of Trent though-

Ted looked around, searching for Trent, but he couldn’t see him anywhere, Ted about to open his mouth and ask, when he was interrupted. 

“Oi! Little lad!” Jamie came running towards them, a flush in his cheeks, “You’re back! You gonna come on out on the pitch and show us that you’ve worked on your dribble? Cause Richard could use a refresher on how to use his-“

“Tartt! Mind your business!"

“Oops.” Henry giggled, and Ted grinned too as Roy came storming out from inside Nelson Road, his admin duties apparently done early. 

~~~

“And then-“

Trent smiled as he listened to Henry enthusiastically retell what had happened at practice, the young man so excited he was practically ready to burst at the seams, Henry so at home at Nelson Road.

“But Sam did-“

Trent was sitting next to Ted in the Richmond cafe, everyone enjoying their after practice refuels, the first team making their ways through giant bowls of pasta, the way footballers had to carb load before a match, always something that fascinated and disgusted him. 

He and Henry had spent the early afternoon watching practice, both of them in their thermals, so while it had been cold to sit in the stands, it hadn’t been unbearable.

Trent had originally planned on reading his manuscript, the editing process agonizingly slow, but Henry had been so enamored, so utterly captured on what happened out on the pitch, that Trent had been incapable of staying away, joining Henry in his joy and enthusiasm a gift each and every time.

It was wonderful to have Henry home again, but it was equally, if not more, wonderful, to watch Ted and Henry.

Henry had started the month off as close to sullen as Trent had ever seen him, Henry isolating himself and acting out, Ted bearing the brunt of it since Henry had clearly been disappointed in him, Henry unable to handle the emotional burden of Ted’s absence.

It had been hard to witness, Trent so unsure about where to step in or if he should stay away, but it looked like Ted and Henry had found their way back to each other, Henry beaming as he was the recipient of his Dad’s full attention. 

~~~

“Hmm,” Lilian ran her fingers through Trent’s hair, the length of it going well past his shoulders, the layers she had put in two summers ago nearly gone. 

Trent was seated in front of her, the two of them in the kitchen, Lilian bringing along her entire hairdresser kit, getting to spray Trent down and hear him complain, enough reason to keep the kit and offer Trent this service even though they were divorced.

It should maybe feel strange to do this for her ex husband, but when Trent had texted and asked if she’d please cut his hair, she had agreed immediately, this little ritual of her providing haircuts for Trent something they had done for more than a literal decade.

It was amusing to see how gray his hair had become, the silver streaks mixing in with the dark brown, Trent becoming more and more of a silver fox as time went by. 

It was one of those things she really liked about him, how he just embraced ageing, how she knew with certainty that Trent wouldn’t suddenly decide that he needed botox, that he should start taking steroids or get surgeries, his face and his body too beautiful to mess with. 

He didn’t belong to her, not anymore, but aesthetically, and mentally, Trent was still her dream guy, her latest foray into dating an absolute disaster, the banker one of her friends had set her up with so dull that Lilian had seriously considered faking a medical emergency before dessert.

“And then-“ Isabella had pushed between Trent’s legs, her arms over his thighs, their little girl telling her Daddy about their trip, “me and Granddad did criss cross country skii-“

Lilian could practically feel Trent grin, but he didn’t correct their daughter immediately, Lilian secretly pleased that he allowed her to continue with the adorable mistake.

It had been about an hour since Lilian had come by with Isabella, the two of them arriving home late last night, Lilian doing as slow of a morning as she possibly could to get Isabella readjusted to the fact that she was no longer on vacation abroad.

They had already had their first tantrum, Isabella insisting that she should have hot cocoa with her breakfast, but Lilian had stood firm, weekday breakfasts, or any kind of breakfast, not a time for chocolate, since breakfast was a meal to fuel the body above all.

“It’s just called cross-country skiing Isabella.” Henry Lasso was seated at the kitchen bar, Trent serving all of them an early afternoon treat, Henry putting his Teddy biscuits on Isabella’s plate as a welcome home gift, Lilian reminding Isabella to say a proper thank you, and to not speak with her mouth full.

Henry had informed Isabella that it would be a one time occurrence, his voice firm when he said it, but even Lilian who had only just met Henry, could see that he wouldn’t be able to stand his ground.

He had introduced himself to Lilian with a handshake, and his full legal name, Lilian immediately recognising Ted in the not so little boy, his accent and his manners, and his lopsided smile a carbon copy of his father.

Trent had told her a few times that it seemed like Henry considered himself Isabella’s big brother, but Lilian hadn’t truly believed him, though Trent rarely exaggerated or bent the truth, until she had witnessed the children's reunion, the obvious love between them practically hitting her in the face. 

“Not criss cross country.”

Isabella twisted around to look over at Henry, her eyes narrowed. “Yes it is.”

“No it’s not.”

“Children-“ Trent had a slightly exasperated note to his voice, and Lilian had to bite her tongue not to smile, the slumbering reporter in Trent setting the record straight, while Isabella detangled herself from his legs.

There was a bit more arguing, Isabella insisting that she wasn’t wrong, before she crossed her arms and asked if she could watch TV.

That had made Lilian snort, which had made Trent laugh, Henry looking at them with a sense of amusement that almost seemed too old for him, Henry offering that he’d help Isabella, the miniature scuffle forgotten as Isabella let Henry take her to the living room.

“Seems like,” Lilian used her nails without thinking, scratching Trent’s scalp, and she felt his shoulders slump, his body relaxing under her hands, “they get along well.”

“I’m very lucky.”

Lilian brushed Trent’s hair back with her fingers, finally finished with her decision of how she’d cut it this time around, Trent’s only instruction that he didn’t want her to go too short with the layers, so he could still put it up. 

~~~

“Ted.”

Ted felt his eyelids flutter, a familiar voice saying his name.

“Ted.” 

He felt a hand tap on his cheek, Ted bubbling to the surface, a groan leaving him. He could feel a dull throb in his knee, and in his right arm.

“I think he’s waking up.”

“Teddy-“

“Take a step back Poppet.”

“Dad?”

Ted blinked awake, opening his eyes, his vision swimming a little, before he managed to focus. He was lying on the floor, Trent above him, Ted’s head clearly in his lap, but Trent wasn’t the only one there, Henry, Isabella and… Was that Lilian?

Wait. Lilian was here. Why was- Wait- Ted looked up at Trent, a whimper leaving him at how Trent had a claw clip in his hair, the left side of it cut to rest above his shoulder, when the luscious locks had gone way past them on both sides last night- 

“Don’t cut-“ Ted slurred his words a little, but he didn’t mean to, his brain fully online. “No hair. Love your-“

“Teddy!” Isabella rushed forward, but a hand shot out, holding her in place, Trent easily grabbing her.

“Give him space-“

“I’m okay.” Ted pushed up on his elbows, the throbbing ache of a concussion or the bumps of a head injury nowhere to be seen or felt. “I’m-“

Ted didn’t get to finish, before he had an armful of Isabella, his little girl clinging to him. 

“Teddy-“ Isabella cried out, tears streaming down her cheeks, and Ted instantly held on, wrapping an arm around her and squeezing her tight.

“I’m okay Princess.” Ted didn’t mind that Isabella almost choked him, his hand stroking up and down her back. “I’m sorry if I scared you.”

“Dad-“

Ted looked up at Henry, a worried expression on his face, his eyes huge, his bottom lip trembling. Ted already felt bad about his dramatics, fainting like that downright embarrassing when it worried his family, when it had hurt his kiddos.

“Come here.” Ted opened his other arm, and Henry fell to his knees, Ted hugging both of the children tight while he whispered apology after apology, worrying his little ones the last thing he ever wanted to do.

~~~

“And look over here.” Trent knew he was being overly cautious, that he was perhaps overreacting a little, but he had to make sure that Ted hadn’t accidentally suffered a head injury, that there were no risk of Ted being concussed, his boyfriend just-

“Follow my finger.”

Trent had heard about Ted’s infamous fainting spell over the news that Roy and Keeley had broken up, but he had never seen Ted simply crumpled like that, the sight downright frightening.

“Perfect. Good job.”

Ted had had Isabella on his lap at first, but even though she had missed Ted, it was clear that Henry was more exciting, the two of them playing in the living room now, Isabella bringing back several souvenirs for Henry, which had been so sweet that Trent had almost choked on it. 

Lilian had gone with them to supervise, and Trent could honestly have kissed her, his gratitude for how she stepped in immense and immediate, Henry thankfully an instant Lilian fan, today the very first time they had met in real life.

“You seem to be tracking just fine.” Trent wasn’t anywhere near an expert on concussions, but he had read and reread the NHS page on head traumas, since Isabella had a tendency to play wild, his little girl utterly unafraid. “Ted?”

“Wowser.” Ted breathed out, a shaky grin on his lips. “I feel like I’ve been dunked in sugar and wrapped up in clouds.”

“What?” Ted had a tendency to say some truly unhinged shit, but this was a new level of bizarre. 

“You’re made of magic, baby. That voice of yours- jeeze Louise.”

“Do I need to take you to A&E-“ Trent didn’t want to overreact, but maybe-

“I got tingles up and down my spine. I feel like Sleeping Beauty-”

“Ah…” It finally clicked, Trent actually a little smug. “That’d be an autonomous sensory meridian response.”

“A what now?” Ted blinked, and Trent could practically see Ted bubble back to the surface, his boyfriend coming back online. He only knew what it was because one of his coworkers at the Independent had written an article at it, Trent unfortunately stuck behind them at the printer for one excruciatingly long conversation that he hadn’t wanted to be a part of at all. 

“What happened to you.“ Trent reached out, boobing Ted’s nose, a full body shiver overtaking Ted, Trent filing it away as something they’d definitely have to play with, the perfect opportunity to get Ted out of his own head literally at Trent’s fingertips.

~~~

“Are you-“ Ted watched as Lilian took a step back, her hand on the kitchen cabinet door, “out of the white tea with raspberries?”

“Course not.” Trent walked over, slotting in beside her, Lilian shorter than him, even though she was on her tiptopes. Trent reached past her, and rifled through the cabinet, emerging with a tin of tea in his hand.

Lilian took it, her body twisted to look up at Trent as she held the tin to her lips to blow imaginary dust off of it, Ted snorting at the dramatics while Trent rolled his eyes and huffed.

“Good grief woman.” Trent's hair was still only halfway done, but he had made the decision that they all needed a cup of tea and a bit of a sitdown.

It felt weird to be seated at the kitchen island when there were guests in his house, his midwestern hospitality screeching at him to get up and take on the role of host, but Ted had to admit that it was great to sit back and observe, watching Trent and Lilian interact  finally sating part of his burning curiosity.

Ted had done everything he could not to go Full Ted around Lilian, but he was so fascinated by her, everything about her beyond intriguing to him, his tail practically wagging with excitement.

He had a million and one questions for her, and he wanted answers to all of them.

He wanted to know all of her secrets, wanted to get to know her and understand her, wanted to find out what it had been like for her to be married to Trent, to have been his boyfriend’s wife.

Lilian opened another cabinet, Ted noting how she didn’t even have to look for the right shelf, Lilian picking up Trent’s favorite and a blue ceramic that Ted hadn’t paid attention to before.

It was obviously hand crafted, Lilian cradling it in a way that made it click that that was obviously her mug, Ted’s tail going wild, since he had found another little Lilian clue that had been left in the house.

“Ted?” Lilian looked at him, “Which mug would you-“

Right. Lilian didn’t know that he didn’t like tea.

“Oh, don’t worry about me, I-“

“He doesn’t drink tea.” Ted hadn’t even noticed that Trent had made him a big glass of water, but Trent put it down in front of him, a few ice cubes even floating around. 

“Really?” Lilian sounded genuinely surprised, and though Ted was still convinced that tea was a pigeon sweat and tree piss conspiracy, he had to admit that he had met a staggering number of people who willingly had it at all times of day and in all kinds of weather.

Weirdos that they were.

“Actually, I’m sorry Ted. That sounded so judgemental” Lilian turned around, leaning against the kitchen counter. “I’m being awfully presumptuous, aren’t I?”

Trent had started pouring water into both cups, the kettle in his hands.

“Coming into your kitchen, coming into your house, acting like this, making myself at home-“

“Duckling-“

Ted loved that Trent had a Lilian specific nickname, that she was Duckling and that Isabella was Poppet, Ted sincerely hoping that he’d get his very own Trent picked nickname one day.

“I just feel as if we’re already close.”

“He tends to have that effect on people.” Trent plopped two teabags into the mugs.

“Guilty as charged,” Ted grinned, leaning forward on the counter, popping his head on his hands and fluttering his lashes. 

“Aha?” Lilian raised an eyebrow, “and he’s just…” She looked up at Trent, “Like that,” she gestured vaguely towards Ted, which made Ted grin, getting recognised for his shenanigans surrounded by friends, one of his favorite things, “all the time?“

“Unfortunately yes.” Trent smiled, “but you get used to it.”

Ted felt like he should probably take offense to it, but Trent talked about him with so much love and affection, that Ted had no doubt in his mind that Trent found him more adorable than annoying, that the quirks Ted had always been told to minimize was something Trent truly enjoyed.

“Well would you look at that.” Lilian hummed, though she took her mug and moved it to the other side of the kitchen, the chair Trent had been sitting in still there, Ted doing his best not to notice the locks of hair on the floor, the feeling of queasiness returning whenever he glanced at it.

Ted knew that he loved Trent’s hair, but he hadn’t known exactly how emotionally attached he had become to his boyfriend's luscious locks. 

Trent just looked so good with long hair. Though shoulder length also suited him, actually, Trent just looked like sex on a stick.

“Come on Foxy.” Lilian didn’t snap her actual fingers, but her tone very much indicated the same sort of command, which made Ted perk up. 

He had expected Trent to at least - teasingly - bark at the command, but he just went along with it, sitting down in the chair with his mug in his hand, Lilian picking up the spray bottle to get back to work.

They started chatting right away, Lilian telling Trent a story about this sculptor they both knew, Ted recalling how Trent had asked him if he wanted to get something for Rebecca’s birthday at Lilian’s gallery.

Ted took in the scene, taking a sip of his water as he watched. Trent and Lilian suited each other, and they were obviously comfortable sharing a space, Trent relaxed even though Lilian doused him in water, Trent usually a much more jumpy and grumpy fella.

Not that Ted didn’t love his grump, an annoyed Trent always a treat, Lilian picking the hair clip out of his hair.

It did, however, make Ted wonder.

“How did the two of you meet?”

Trent zeroed in on him instantly, eyes narrowing in a way that almost made Ted shiver, Trent’s entire attention focused on Ted and Ted alone.

“Why do you-“

“Would you believe me-“ Lilian ran her hand through Trent’s hair, ruffling his curls, “if I told you I met him at a pub quiz?”

“What?” Ted grinned, instantly enamored, a pub quiz the last answer he had expected.

“Duckling, do we- Ouch.”

Trent’s hand shot up, Lilian tugging at his hair. 

“Ted asked, and I shall answer.” Lilian released Trent, who crossed his arms, a frown on his lips while Lilian smiled “I was fresh out of University, and one of my friends really wanted to get into journalism, and there was this rumour going around that the staff of the Independent liked to frequent-”

“For the record, I did not participate in those nights out of my own volition.” Trent still had his arms crossed, though he made sure to sit up straight, Lilian picking up the scissors. “We had this a editor who’d push your pages to the very back of the queue if you didn’t show up at least once a quarter. I think her husband had ownership-”

“Who’s telling this story again?”

“Right.” Trent sighed, “My apologies. Go on”

“My friend and I,” Lilian held a lock of Trent’s hair between her fingers, snipping the strands while she talked, “show up, we get a table, the quiz begins, and then, there’s a Classic Who category, and Trent completely obliterates it.”

“What?” Ted laughed. He had a vague recollection that Trent had told him about Doctor Who, the series constantly pushed on the iPlayer app and site, but Trent hadn’t introduced him to it, his boyfriend insisting that the old series, or Classic Who, was the only thing worth watching.

“Exactly. He answers every question correctly with lightning speed,” Ted saw the way Trent couldn’t hide a smile, the other man obviously proud though he tried to feign indifference, “and he was wearing this leather jacket-“

Ted’s brain nearly exploded at the image of Trent in a leather jacket, his mouth going dry.

“So I figured he was also there as a tagalong, and Tracy-“

“Dreadful woman.”

Ted easily recalled Trent’s opinion on most of Lilian’s friends, Ted briefly wondering how Trent would get along with his own high school and college buddies.

Ronnie Fouch had reached out by email, telling Ted that he and the missus were coming to Europe in the summer, and asking if they should swing by since they’d be in Italy anyway.

“Shush it you,” Lilian took another lock, Ted surprised at how skillful she was. “I recognized some of the people at Trent’s table, and because I’m a good friend, I decided to chat him up, use him as my Trojan horse. Turns out, he’s a sports journalist!”

“No way!” Ted grinned, surprised even though he already knew that fact, the tale absorbing him completely, Lilian a great storyteller. 

“Yes way.” Trent held his mug between his hands. “She was adamant that I had to be lying, so I dug out my press card.”

“And I ended up accidentally taking it home.”

“Stole it more likely.”

“I’ve never stolen anything in my life!” Lilian cut a big chunk of hair, Ted holding his breath, though it was clearly calculated. “I simply misplaced it.”

“Into your pocket.” Trent drank his tea, his eyes filled with mischief when Ted looked at him.

“I’m not having this argument again.”

“Because you know I’m right.”

“I beg your pardon.” Lilian pinched his earlobe, and Trent grinned. “I realized my unfortunate-“

“That’s one way to refer to it.”

“Mistake when I woke up the next day, tragically alone-“

“You may need to edit this part of the story-“

“Because of the gay?” Lilian ran her fingers through Trent’s hair again, the sides evened out. 

“It does change,” Trent titled his head back to look up at Lilian, “the tone of the interaction, Duckling.” Trent smiled, and Ted felt warmed by how much they obviously cared for each other. “So.” Trent straightened back out, “You find my email-“

“Yes. I find his email on the Independent’s website-“

“Well well,” Ted whistled, “a resourceful gal.”

“I do what I do.” Lilian started adding layers to Trent’s hair, “I find the email, and I ask him if I can return his card.”

“Smooth. I respect that.”

“Thank you.” Lilian smiled.

“Meanwhile,” Trent started talking again, the story one they had obviously perfected over years of repetition,"I'm infuriated because I did not realize it was missing until I tried to get into Boleyn Ground, and I didn’t have my credentials.”

Ted got the distinct impression that he was supposed to know what Boleyn Ground was, Ted taking a mental note to ask Beard.

“They let you in anyway, because even in 2009, he was Trent Crimm, The Independent.” Lilian sounded so proud that Ted couldn’t help but smile, Trent clearly pleased as well.

“Everyone has their niche.” Trent handed his now empty mug to Lilian, who placed it behind her, “They could have spared me a massive headache though. It just so happens that that match was the day of the Uptown Park riot. I didn’t sleep for 36 hours.”

Ted had no idea what the Uptown Park riot was either, his stalking of Trent’s writing not going that far back, though he’d be a man on a mission later tonight when he had his phone in bed time before bobbing off to dream land.

“Trent looked like death warmed up when we finally managed to meet up.” Lilian took a step back, Trent’s haircut over and done, Ted understanding why Trent let Lilian do it, since it looked beyond amazing.

“It wasn’t that bad.”

“It was that bad. I spontaneously offered to buy him dinner as an apology,” Lilian looked directly at Ted, “mainly because he looked so pathetic.”

“We had pies at a Weatherspoon.” Trent looked at Ted, Ted suddenly very aware that he was missing out on a joke, which he hated, but before he could ask about the significance of a Weatherspoon, Lilian continued talking.

“I put my number in your phone and told you to call me.”

“I didn’t.”

“He did not, but I did send him another email since I needed a date to a gallery opening, and you were handsome and funny and most importantly-“ Lilian kissed Trent’s hair, “not boring, and the rest is, as they say, history.”

Chapter Text

“I need to do a bit more research, but this-“ Henry held his hand up in front of the camera, “is a Norwegian troll doll.”

Today had been absolutely awesome. First of all, Isabella had come back home, second of all, Henry had been given some kickass souvenirs, third of all, he had finally met Isabella’s mom, and fourth of all, they had eaten Dad’s lasagne for dinner.

Isabella’s Mom had been supposed to go back to her own apartment, but instead, she had ended up helping out in the kitchen and joining them for dinner because she had asked how Dad made the sauce.

The lasagne was supposed to be a Lasso family secret, and Henry knew that his Grandma Dottie would probably argue that Isabella’s Mom wasn’t a Lasso, but since she was Isabella’s Mom, and Isabella was Henry’s sister, that made her kind of Henry’s family too, so Henry had gladly taught Isabella’s Mom the measure cheese with your heart trick.

“I really like that hair, because it looks silly, and I think it’s porcelain, which is pretty cool. For the next video, I’ll totally look into it, because Trent said that Norwegian trolls are the best fairy tale trolls, so-“

“Henry?”

Henry turned in his desk chair, Dad standing by the door, Henry’s eyes widening.

“Shoot-“ Henry had forgotten to keep track of his bed time, since he had been so preoccupied with taping his video diary, Dad probably showing up to read his bedtime story to him, “I’m sorry Dad, I didn’t-“

“Mean to forget to brush your teeth and get your jamjams on?”

“Yeah…” Henry had helped clean the table, but once he had done that, he had realised that he had been more than socialised out, so he had snuck off to his room for some alone time before bed.

“That’s okay Bud,” Dad walked into the room, Henry’s bedroom, the smallest room in the house, “Everybody makes mistakes.”

Dad kissed his hair, and it was a little bit embarrassing that the camera was still running, but Henry could easily edit it out.

“Will we still have time to read?” Henry could be as quick as lightning in the bathroom, and he really wanted to know if Magnus would make it before Loki succeeded with his Naglfar plan.

“We’ll have plenty of time, especially-“ Dad looked at him, “since I expect you to do the Dentist recommended amount of time on those Pearl Whites of yours.”

~~~

Trent carefully closed the door to Isabella’s room, his daughter finally down for the count, her eyes falling shut while he read Alice in Wonderland.

Tonight’s bedtime had been an absolute shit show, Trent looking at his watch to confirm that tonight’s bedtime had indeed lasted for three entire hours, Isabella doing everything she possibly could to avoid going to sleep.

It was understandable that she had acted out, her routine beyond disrupted by her vacation and how Mummy had come over to Daddy’s house, the cherry on top, the fact that Lilian had stayed for dinner.

Trent wouldn’t change that dinner for the world though, something inside of him slotting into place as the people he loved most all shared a meal together, the little group around the table the members of his family.

He looked at his watch again, waiting by the door, but it seemed like Isabella was - finally - asleep, this particular marathon of a tuck-in time kicked off by Isabella insisting that she’d be going to sleep in Ted and Trent’s bed.

Which Trent had categorically refused.

That had led to the first round of tears, Isabella crying while telling him that she always slept in their bed, and that she hadn’t seen her Daddy in forever and ever and ever and ever.

It had broken Trent’s heart, and it made sense that she’d think she’d stay in their bed, since she had slept in it more often than not when she had been sick, but Trent had held firm, comforting Isabella without giving in, though he had wanted to.

But if he gave in now, he’d have Isabella sprawled across his bed for the foreseeable future, and while Trent loved his little girl, he loved not getting kicked while he slept a whole lot more.

Trent took a step away from the door, holding his breath as he expected to hear a call for Daddy to bring more water, or fluff the pillow, or give a doll a goodnight kiss, or check under the bed or or or or-

Nothing came though, and Trent let out a sigh of relief, Isabella finally asleep.

It wasn’t part of Trent’s usual evening routine, but he really needed a cup of chamomile and maybe even a sweet treat, the biscuit tin calling out to him.

Trent was completely caught up in his own head, not  watching where he was going, even as he started going down the stairs, which was how he managed to bang directly into Ted, who had almost made it to the top. 

“Fuck!-“ 

Trent felt a hand grab his bicep, fingers digging in, Ted catching his weight, Trent slamming a palm to the wall, his heart racing.

“Holy shit-“ Trent was still catching his breath, adrenaline soaring through his body, his mind finally realizing what had almost happened.

“Whoopsie daisy!” Ted steadied them both, strong hands keeping them in place. “Slow down hot stuff!”

Trent was about to open his mouth and apologize, to beg for forgiveness, the fact that they hadn’t tumbled to their death a miracle.

“Ted I’m so-“

“Well well, would you look at us?” Ted grinned, his head tilted to look up at Trent. “Fancy running into you here handsome.”

“Very funny Ted.” Trent could still feel his heart beat like crazy, the chaos of their crash rattling around his skull.

He could have seriously injured Ted with his carelessness, could have-

“Hey,” Trent felt Ted tighten his grip on his bicep, “nothing happened. You’re okay.”

“That’s my line.” Trent didn’t mean to be so dry, to come off so sarcastic, the fact that Ted was the one comforting him a nice change of pace, but Trent didn’t really deserve it. “I should have been-“

“More careful? After being in a hostage situation for 3 hours?”

“One could describe it as such,” Trent smiled, Ted the silliest man he had ever met, though he could see why he would call tonight’s bedtime that, Trent getting a text from Ted with an offer for Ted to tap in.

He hadn’t been able to accept though, since Isabella had Ted wrapped around her little finger.

“But I’m still sorry.”

“We’re good.” Ted was still looking up at Trent, the height difference actually kind of…

Hot.

Trent liked looking down on Ted, liked being above him like this, liked the illusion that he was taller than his boyfriend.

He was about to comment on it, when Ted reached out with his free hand, to move some of Trent’s hair behind his ear.

It was so tender and sweet, Ted touching Trent like he was a piece of art at a museum.

“The new cut suits you.”

“Oh?” Trent smiled. It was the first actual opinion he had given on Trent’s new haircut, besides literally fainting at the sight of the scissors.

“Yeah…” Ted nodded, his lips slightly parted, his fingers still in Trent’s hair. “I didn’t get to take a proper look earlier, but it, you-“ Ted swallowed, before he looked up. “You’re beautiful.”

“Thank you?” Beautiful wasn’t something Trent usually considered himself. Handsome under the right circumstances, sure, and definitely pretty alright most of the time, but it was hard not to feel like beautiful wasn’t an overexaggeration when it was said by Ted.

“I love looking at you.”

Trent knew he was attracted to Ted, but right here, and right now, he swore the air filled with electricity, butterflies fluttering around in Trent’s stomach.

They had been dating for more than a year, and Ted could still reduce Trent to a fool with a crush with a gentle touch and a loving look. 

“There you are.”

“Ted-“

“I’m sorry I lost you for a second. I didn’t mean to.”

“What?” Trent blinked, but Ted didn’t answer him. Instead, he kissed him, and Trent swore it felt like the very first time, Ted cradling his head as they shared a moment. 

~~~

Ted flicked the light on in the kitchen, the hiss of the coffee machine greeting him as it slowly brewed its brown elixir.

It was early Friday morning, and everyone else was asleep, Trent making a disgruntled sound of complaint when Ted detangled himself.

He had heard noises from Henry’s room that sounded suspiciously like a gaming device, but Ted wasn’t going to go looking for trouble if Henry had gotten the sleep he needed.

Ted opened the garden door, the sun only just coming up over the horizon. It was a brisk day, and while it was obviously still winter, Ted swore he could feel the promise of spring right around the corner.

He had gotten used to his life in London in a whole lot of ways, but sometimes, he missed the Kansas weather.

He missed the sun and the heat, missed the endless skies and the familiar smells.

But England was good too, Ted breathing in a greedy lungful of morning air.

They had barely managed to do anything with the garden last year. He had bought a few garden toys for the kids, new garden tools and he had even invested in a proper barbecue grill, Ted easily taking over the chore of cutting the grass and killing the weeds, Trent getting on his knees to blow him the first time he had seen Ted with the lawnmower.

That had turned out to be a very pleasant afternoon, Trent pulling Ted into the shed, and instructing him to bite his own palm so the neighbors wouldn’t hear anything.

This year, he wanted to really transform the garden, make it a space they’d all be eager to spend time in, eating outside whenever possible, something Ted had always loved.

He left the door slightly open, to let in some fresh air, since no one else was in the kitchen with him, though Ted was unsure of how long that would last.

Isabella would probably show up soon, his little girl's sleeping schedule still wildly unpredictable, his daughter’s morning moods ranging from sweetest creature on earth to her being the actual devil.

Which was why Ted should really focus on breakfast.

He had yet to decide what to make, though he knew that tonight’s dinner would be sloppy joes, Ted setting up the slow cooker before leaving for work, while he’d swing by the bakery on the way home for some fresh buns.

Ted would love to bake their bread himself, but with his schedule, he barely had time to do Rebecca’s biscuits.

Also, he needed to find a gift for Rebecca. He had already given her a book for her actual birthday, but he wanted to bring something to her party too, Ted making a mental note to ask Trent if he had thought about anything, and if he wanted to get a gift together. 

Ted reached for the fridge door, opening it up to take stock of his options.

If it had been a school morning, he would have made oatmeal with cinnamon and apple slices, but it wasn’t a school morning, so he could-

Wait.

Hold on.

It wasn’t a school morning.

Oh Fuck.

~~~

“Trent.”

Trent felt a hand on his shoulder, someone shaking him, but he didn’t want to wake up, didn’t want to-

“Trent.” 

The bed was so soft, and he had only just gotten comfortable again after Ted had- Wait, was it Ted calling his name?

“What-” Trent blinked.

“Trent.”

Trent opened his eyes, only to come face to face with Ted, who was hovering about him-

“What the-“ This was beyond disorienting, Trent completely and utterly confused, “What’s happening?”

He couldn’t smell a fire, and the sun was barely up, so why-

“Are you,” Ted had a knee up on the bed, a frantic note to his voice, “watching the children today?”

“What?” Trent pushed up on his elbows, Ted thankfully giving him space.

He was barely awake, and he wasn’t even wearing his glasses.
 
“Who’s watching the kids?”

“I am? Obviously” Trent had no idea what was going on, Ted’s question utterly bizarre, Trent sure he would feel infuriated if he was actually awake, “Did you seriously wake me-“

“Maybe.”

“Well fuck me sideways.”

“So you don’t have work?”

“Why would I have work?” Trent groaned, falling back on the bed, his head hitting the pillow, Trent desperately wishing he could go back to sleep. “In what universe would I accept any kind of work when it’s half-term? 

He couldn’t believe that Ted had woken him up for a question as stupid as this, Trent unable to believe that Ted had genuinely not considered childcare arrangements until this very moment.

“Are you torturing me on purpose?” Trent knew Ted would never do something like that, but this was insane, “Am I in purgatory?”

Trent knew Richmond was playing Manchester City tomorrow, and that Henry and Isabella kept Ted plenty occupied, that all of this could be a simple mistake, a genuine oversight, but sometimes, Trent wondered how Ted had managed to live life before they started dating.

How he had gotten anything done without Trent’s constant support.
 
“Baby-“ Ted didn’t exactly whine, but there was a distinct pout to his tone, an undercurrent of hurt right there in his tone, Trent’s anger evaporating like dewdrops in the sun.

“I’m sorry,” Trent reached out to gently grab Ted’s forearm, Trent wrapping his fingers around him, “No, I don’t have work.”

Actually, Trent didn’t have any upcoming work at all, Jeanette yet to reach out to him with new proposals for recordings, which should probably worry Trent more than it currently did.

He didn’t want to go back to begging for freelance scraps, but he barely had any professional dignity left anyway, so it’d make sense if he just killed off the sickly remains and called it a day.

“So you have a plan?”

“Was I supposed to prepare something?” Trent had, of course, made a plan, Henry asking about Kew Gardens a few weeks back, Trent taking both the kids on a tour of the world's largest Victorian glasshouse after lunch. “Because I figured I’d just leave them on their own with a 2 litre of coke and the toaster.”

“Really?” Ted wrinkled his nose, and Trent swallowed a smile, Ted truly in a messed up mindspace if he hadn’t managed to recognise the obvious sarcasm.

Not that Trent blamed him, the match against City all anybody could think about, Trent’s RSS feed constantly pinging him since it was all everyone and their mother talked about.

“No, not really. I’ve got it, don’t worry about it.”

As Ted’s support system, it was his job to let Ted unwind, so Trent had already made arrangements for a movie night, Henry in charge of picking the movie and popping the popcorn, while Isabella had been asked to make the duvet and pillow nest on the couch.

He’d probably still worry, and if Trent knew the team right, there’d likely be some sort of shenanigans that’d leave Ted dead on his feet, but Trent had their home, house and family life under control, so Ted could focus on being Coach Lasso.

Or, he would have it under control, once he got out of bed. 

“What time is it anyway?” Trent almost reached for his phone, but he wasn’t sure that he actually wanted to know, the thought of it being before 8 nearly unbearable-

“It’s 7:35.”

“Oh dear God.”

~~~

Isabella gasped as Mrs Trunchbull grabbed Amanda’s braids, Ted’s little girl tucked under his arm, her face burrowed in his sweater.

He had come home from work to Henry and Isabella wearing twin grins of excitement, Henry handing Ted a movie ticket that Isabella had very obviously made, his kids informing him that the movie would be starting just after dinner.

It had been downright adorable, Ted almost ready to cry at how cute it was, a little sniffle escaping him when Isabella had given him monopoly money for the pick and mix, Trent acting as a somewhat reluctant shop attendant as everyone made their candy bowls.

Ted had been so busy, beyond busy, really, at work, keeping everyone’s morale up a near impossible feat, Ted doing all that he could to remind his boys that City hadn’t won yet, and that you needed to actually play the game, since no one knew what the future held.

Amanda Thripp flew out the window, and Isabella made a scared little nose, Ted giving her a squeeze. 
 
“There there, sweet pea,” Ted gently stroked Isabella’s arm, Henry sitting on a pillow on the floor, Trent on Ted’s other side. “Nothing will harm you. Look.”

Ted pointed at the screen, Isabella giving a little cheer as Matilda saved the day, Ted allowing himself to rest his head on Trent’s shoulder, Trent pressing a kiss to Ted’s temple.

“Thank you.”

It was barely a whisper, and Ted wasn’t even sure if he was supposed to have heard it, but he grabbed Trent’s hand with his free one, and intertwined their fingers, Ted unable to believe how incredibly lucky he was to have a family like this. 

~~~

“Uncle Beard!” Henry shot out of his seat, running to get a hug, Trent turning his head to see none other than Beard stand by the kitchen door.

He hadn’t heard the front door open, so it was a bit of a surprise, Beard not exactly expected, though Trent had already come to regard as something of a house cat, the fact that no one had let him in, barely worth noticing.

Ted clearly hadn’t expected Beard either, but he still smiled brightly, Ted’s game day meal of a weetabix and a glass of orange juice only about halfway done.

“Hey Buddy!” Beard hugged Henry, Beard already in his full Richmond gear. “Love the shirt.”

“You do?” Henry reached down, tucking at the edge of it, Henry obviously in a Richmond jersey, Sam’s name across the back, “It’s my luckiest one”

“Good call.” Beard ruffled Henry’s hair, Ted already pulling a chair out for Beard, Trent nodding his head in acknowledgement. “So, what are we having? Pancakes?”

“Mmh!” Isabella smiled, her mouth stuffed with pancakes, strawberries and custard. “You can-“

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, Poppet.” Trent grabbed the kitchen roll to rip off a piece and hand it to Isabella, Ted making everyone pancakes even though he wasn't having any himself.

“Yummy.” Beard grinned, knocking his shoulder with Ted, Henry coming back to the table with an extra plate and a fork.

It was beyond squashed now, their kitchen table too small for three adults and two children, but Ted had lit up at the sight of Beard, so Trent didn’t mind the added chaos, Beard clearly making the exact right choice when he decided to crash their breakfast, Ted obviously in need of the support.

~~~

“Oof!” Ted cringed as Phil Foden hammered in another goal, the City supporters exploding in a round of cheers, the Richmond side actually booing as Zoroux picked himself off of the ground, Ted so proud of how their goal keeper just kept going and going and going.

Beard had abandoned post long ago, his cap on the ground, Ted well aware that he needed to walk off the disappointment, Travis staying by his side even though City were - and that was being polite - wiping the floor with their asses.

Ted knew he should probably feel humiliated, that it should be embarrassing to be beaten this thoroughly in his own house, but Ted could already see the defiance grow in his team, could see how shoulders squared and jaws tightened.

He didn’t feel an ounce of anxiety in his body, his hands not shaking at all, but Ted had a sneaking suspicion that it was because his family was safe and sound in the owner’s box, Ted waving to them as they came back for the second half.

These past few days, Ted had felt like a Phoenix, rising from the ashes, his eyes opened, his mantra of believe one he hadn’t lived up to in a long time, but that was going to change now.

They had about 15 minutes of play left, and Ted knew that they wouldn’t be able to turn this game around, City already five goals in, but Ted knew that his squad would give everything they had moving forward, that this would be a lesson to all of them not to grow complacent.

He’d allow his team to be angry, to be disappointed, Isaac kicking a gigantic hole in the pitch when City had scored for the third time, but they’d regroup, they’d tighten their defense, strengthen their attack, and they’d come back.

Because Richmond wasn’t a club to mess with.

~~~

“The whistle has sounded, and Richmond have suffered an almost embarrassing defeat at the hands of the mighty City giants. One wonders how Lasso will raise the locker room spirits before they face off against West Ham on- Oh. Oh.“

“Yes Arlo, oh indeed! With any other coach, this would be unprecedented behavior, but Lasso is running into the stands.”

“Exactly so, Chris. He seems to be making his way towards the owner's box, once again not slowing down on those steps. It almost feels like we’ve been transported back in time to Lasso’s first season-”

“This is indeed another athletic performance from Ted Lasso and what a level of fitness. That’s what we should all aspire towards at the tender age of 46.”

“To be so young again.”

“His Doctor must be pleased with his cholesterol. We see Lasso reach the top of the stairs, and he’s hoisting- Oh. We’re taking everything back. This is an Olympian effort, but why would he hang off of the owners- No, he’s pulling up, the elbow is secure, he’s halfway up. We see none other than Trent Crimm scolding Lasso-“

“A pair for the ages, aren’t they, a real Romeo and Juliet tale from what I’ve heard on the grapevine, though with a lot less poison and family feuds and a healthy dose of homosexuality, but as we always say, love is love. Go Greyhounds.”

“For the uninformed, we currently have eyes on Lasso’s son, who’s attempting to wipe away tears, but that’s definitely a level of snot that only comes from a long and hard cry. A certified Richmond fan if you ask me!”

“The last time I got snot like that was when my wife left me.”

“Which we all understand. Remember to cherish your spouse, and don’t be a dick.”

“We apologize for the language, but we do not apologize for the collective awh, as we watch Lasso hug his son!”