Summary: A heatwave in London might just be the kicker for Rebecca and Ted to admit what they want.
It was just the shorts at first. She’d never seen them before that night on his back porch in Kansas. It was warm, and their voices rarely interrupted the sound of crickets and the rustling of leaves in the breeze.
His one leg was crossed over the other, and it occurred to her in the moment that she’d never seen his calves before, or the little bulge of muscle just above each knee. He was more tan then, too. She liked it at the time. Liked knowing he spent time in the sun. Now she prefers that he’s a little fairer knowing it’s from his being back in London for almost two years.
She wonders if she’s allowed to prefer him one way or another.
She knows they’ve been different since he got back, and even more so since she broke up with Matthijs, but she’s still not quite sure what they are.
She knows they spend more and more time together; dinners, one-on-one meetings running unnecessarily long, and sometimes, he just comes by her place for a drink. Bourbon with the Boss, he calls it, although she usually has wine.
And that’s it. Well, that’s the lie, at least. The lie is that the most there’s ever been is a hug that lingers a moment or two long, or her head on his shoulder when they curl up with their drinks to watch a movie.
They don’t talk about the rest, don’t talk about the truth. They don’t talk about how neither of them is dating or how he watches her lips when she sips her wine. They don’t talk about how she smooths her palm over his thigh when she’s had a glass or two, or how he drapes an arm around her shoulders as she does. They don’t talk about how his lips brush against her temple when he pulls her closer or how she always turns her face to his when he does.
They certainly don’t talk about the time they kissed. She’s not sure why they don’t. It’d been nice– more than nice. It’d been perfect. Sure, they’d both been a little tipsy, but he’d kissed her, and she’d kissed him right back. He’d pulled her closer, pulled her onto his lap, and she’d felt his arms wrap around her and heard the low hum in his chest.
She’d felt his breath on hers, seen his eyes find hers and seen the devotion in them. It’s been intoxicating. She still sees it sometimes. Sometimes it’s just that, a flash, a memory, and she smiles at the thought. And sometimes it’s not. Sometimes she sees him, hears him, feels him when her hand slips into her underwear at night, and she gasps his name when she comes. Sometimes she even thinks of him doing the same, a few doors down, thinking about her with a hand against the shower wall and the other wrapped around himself. Has he ever said her name when he comes?
But it’d just been a kiss. A heated, desperate kiss, and then she’d said we shouldn’t. She doesn’t remember why she said it, maybe the wine, but he said it too. No, we shouldn’t. Then she’d stayed on his lap a while longer, and his hands stayed on her waist, and they silently dared each other to give in, and neither did. She wishes she did. She wishes she’d memorized the feel and taste of him.
It was the only night he’s ever stayed over. Passed out sprawled on her couch, and she’s certain she could hear his breath from her room upstairs and down the hall.
And that was it.
We shouldn’t.
She always wonders why they shouldn’t. Why they don’t. She thinks they love each other too much, if that’s possible. But why shouldn’t they? Why don’t they? She’s learned to allow herself all the other things she loves in life, so why not Ted?
***
It’s not just the shorts today. Not just his calves or his quads, or even just his forearms or the slight sheen to his hair. It’s everything about him.
She’s passing by her window as he’s walking across the Green on his way home from taking Henry to school. She’d never tell anyone that she knows what time he walks by, and that she often makes a point to pass her window when he does. He only lives a half a block away now, and it always warms something in her chest to see him when he doesn’t know she’s watching. She likes just seeing him exist in her world again, in London, in her neighbourhood, on her block. Passing by her house the same way a stranger would, and knowing there’s no one in the world who knows her the way he does.
She really likes seeing him like this.
He’s still a little ways away, but she can see his navy shorts riding up his thighs – his length of shorts had surprised her a little the first time – and his KC t-shirt that doesn’t have a collar the way his shirts always do at Nelson Road. She can see the slight sheen to his hair where it falls over his visor.
She always remembers finding him handsome – as much as she tried not to at first – but she vividly remembers the first time she found him fit. He’d been defending her, playing a round of darts at the Crown & Anchor, and she’d been about one drink short of asking him to come back to her place after.
She sucks on her teeth as he lifts the hem of his shirt up, wiping his forehead with it and putting a good bit of his stomach on display for what feels like just her. The cool air cycling through her home doesn’t feel quite as cool anymore, and her next breath comes a little shorter. He’d be more comfortable, she thinks, if he just abandoned the shirt altogether.
Thirty more seconds and he’d be passed her house almost in his own.
Before she can talk herself out of it, Rebecca smooths her dusty pink and white striped sundress over her stomach as she takes the few steps to her front door, and the heat is like a wall when she opens it. A heavy, thick, sticky wall.
“Ted!” she calls out.
He lifts his gaze from the ground at his feet to hers, and his lips spread into a grin as he stops and turns towards her house.
“Hey, Boss!” he replies. “You’re bein’ very wise about stayin’ inside today.”
Rebecca chuckles. “You look like you could use a nice glass of lemonade. Come in.” She nods towards her front hall. “I just made a fresh batch.”
“Think you might just be the Godfather, ‘cause that’s an offer I can’t refuse,” he says. “Lemme just pop home for a rinse, and I’ll meander back on over.”
Don’t you dare.
“Oh, don’t bother.” She gestures him in again. “I’ll never see you again if you get into a cold shower.”
Ted chuckles, but she’s right, and makes his way over to her. She can see the line of sweat down the center of his shirt, widening around the neckline.
That was one thing she always hated about the boat in Amsterdam. It was always so hot and sticky in bed, and she always felt like she needed a shower before, after, and during. And she didn’t like the sweat on his t-shirt in the mornings when the room heated before they woke.
She really likes it on Ted. It doesn’t look as sticky on him, and he smells – though there’s no way in hell she’d tell him so – good. Not just good. He smells like sex. Hot, passionate, sheet-ruining sex.
He smiles softly down at her dress as he slips by her.
“‘S a nice dress,” he says quietly. She shuts the door behind her and follows him towards her back porch.
It’s nothing like what she wears to work, and she knows Ted likes it when she’s just a little more casual in her attire. He told her as much once when she was wrapped in silk pyjamas with her head on his shoulder. Told her he likes seeing her when her guard is completely down.
It’d been a long day of meetings with league reps and shareholders, and her breakup was still a little fresh, though she never felt heartbroken over it. It’d been the first night she ever felt his lips on her skin.
He’d pressed them to her temple as he whispered to her that he was proud of how well she handles everything, how strong she is, and how glad he is she can let herself just be around him.
She’s not sure what made him kiss her like that, but she’d melted into him at it. It’d been the first night she ever realized how badly she wanted him. Not just to kiss him, or even to sleep with him, but to do just that with him. To curl up together on a couch, and feel completely unburdened with his arm around her, and to have him be proud of her, and have him be in her space at night.
The problem, though it seems funny to call it that, is that Ted just seems so content with what they are. Not really dating, but not really just friends. She thinks he wants more, too, but she knows he’d never push for anything if she didn’t express a crystal clear desire for it. For now, there’s just an understanding that they’ll always be there for each other, that he’d show up on her front porch at two in the morning if she called, and that his arms will always be her safest place.
She’s okay with it all, she really is. He’s the best partner she’s never had. Sometimes, though, she really really wishes she’s had him. Sometimes she practically aches for him.
Sometimes, like now.
She’s not sure what it is exactly about seeing Ted sweaty that does it for her, but it definitely does. It reminds her a little of the cowboy posters on her bedroom walls as a teenager. If the cowboys wore navy khaki shorts, red t-shirts, a visor, and said things like:
“I’m gonna go ahead and stay standin’, ‘cause I don’t think this,” he gestures to himself, “is somethin’ you want on your furniture right now.”
It’s quite frankly a little concerning how badly it absolutely is something Rebecca wants. She wants him everywhere.
“Oh, please, sit. It’s just patio furniture,” Rebecca says, nodding to the seat across from hers and setting the ceiling fan of her enclosed porch a little higher.
Ted gives in, settling into the wicker chair. She sets two glasses of lemonade on the table between them and hands Ted a water bottle that’s just this side of frozen. He immediately presses it to his forehead. The sound he makes is practically a moan as he slumps further into the chair in relief, and Rebecca bites the inside of her cheek.
“Gosh, that feels good,” he mutters, eyes closed with his head tipped back over the back of the chair.
She sits down across from him, crossing one leg tightly over the other, and follows a bead of sweat as it trails down just beside the column of his throat, curling down between his collarbones before disappearing under the V of his shirt. Just low enough that there’s a little hair on his chest peaking out.
She just wants to strip him down, get him in a cold shower, and fuck him. He’s usually more than happy to give her what she wants, but she’s still a little apprehensive about asking for that.
He lifts the bottle off his forehead, unscrews the cap, and puts it to his lips. She gently tugs her bottom lip between her teeth as she watches his throat bob as he down the entire thing in one go, letting out a sigh of relief as he finishes it off.
She straightens out her expression just as he opens his eyes and gives him a slightly awkward smile that he returns with a little curl of his lips.
Ted leans forward, setting his empty bottle down on the table and tossing his visor down next to it. She always loves seeing his hair when it’s not combed back and instead falls over his temples. It always makes him look more relaxed, more at home. And yeah, she also likes watching him brush it back as he settles back into his chair with a glass of lemonade held on the bit of bare thigh above his knee. A bit of condensation glides down, running down the inside of his thigh, weaving through the hair before it drips down to the tile floor.
She follows the glass as he raises it to his lips and takes a sip, and her eyes stay on his as he lowers it back down.
“Oh, that is some darn good lemonade,” he says.
Rebecca gives a half-hearted hum of acknowledgement with a little smile. She’s quite busy watching him wet his lips.
They don’t say anything as they slowly nurse their drinks, because Rebecca isn’t confident in her ability to converse normally with him at the moment, and he looks relaxed, perfectly content to just lounge for a bit. She likes this, though; a quiet morning with Ted. She can almost pretend that he slept over the night before, and that this is their little routine. She thinks if it were routine, they’d be sitting closer. She wishes they were.
It was still cool on the patio when they first came out here, but with the sun getting a little higher and peaking over the trees, it’s close to becoming a greenhouse.
Ted clicks his tongue, fiddling with the empty glass on his leg. Surely there’s a way to get him out of this room without him going home. Preferably, a way that involves him wearing fewer clothes.
“Do you have anywhere to be?” she asks as casually as she can.
Ted shakes his head. “My boss was kind enough to give me the day off on account of the heat.” He smiles, and she lets out a little huff of laughter.
She glances down at his empty glass again.
“There’s more inside, if you want,” she says.
Ted nods and gets to his feet. “You want some too?” he asks, holding a hand out to her glass.
Rebecca shakes her head. “But I’ll come in, it’s getting hot.”
Ted grabs her glass anyway and holds them both in one hand so he can hold his free hand out to her again, helping her up out of her chair. His palm is just a little cooler than the back of his hand from holding the glass, and he leads her out in front of him, hand slipping away before he follows closely behind.
Rebecca doesn’t think she could call her house cold by any means anymore, but it’s nicer than the back porch, and a lot nicer than outside. Rebecca slides into a stool at her island as Ted walks around it, grabbing the pitcher of lemonade from the fridge.
“I’m afraid I’m all out of ice,” Rebecca says.
“Well, I might as well just head home then,” Ted jokes, smiling at her as he refills his glass.
He sets the empty pitcher in her sink, leaning back against the counter as he sips his drink.
She watches his lips the same way he does when she drinks wine, and in the same fashion, they don’t mention it. She watches the bead of sweat trail from his temple down to his jaw, and glances down to where his shirt sticks to him down the center of his torso. She can almost make out the hairs on his stomach where the sweat is particularly concentrated.
She pushes herself off her stool and walks around to his side of the kitchen island when he drains his glass.
“I can make more if you’d like,” she says, grabbing the cup.
Ted shakes his head. “Thank you, though, Boss. Spoiled me quite enough already.”
“I’m happy to return the favour every once in a while,” she smiles, a little playful glint in her eye.
Ted smiles and props himself against the counter next to the sink as Rebecca rinses off the glassware.
“I was gonna suggest we go get some ice cream, but I really don’t wanna go back outside,” he says. “Y’all do not play around when it gets hot here.”
“You say that every year,” Rebecca chuckles. “At least you’re getting some use out of your shorts.” Very good use, though she doesn’t add that bit.
“Don’t think I’m ever gonna be able to wear this shirt again, though,” Ted jokes. “Looks like I entered a wet t-shirt contest.”
Rebecca chuckles again and glances over at him. He has absolutely no idea what he’s doing to her. Propped on an elbow against the counter, smiling at her, looking just the perfect amount of dishevelled. Even his cheeks are a shade redder than usual from the heat. That’s the excuse she’s using for her own, at least.
When she finishes with the last glass, Ted gently nudges her aside before she can turn the sink off. He sets it colder and cups his hands below the stream, leaning down to wet his face. Rebecca grabs the hand towel off the oven handle, holding it out for him as he straightens back up.
“Thanks,” he says, shutting the sink off.
He sighs as he covers his face with the towel, a little water still dripping down his neck.
She reaches out, brushing a drop away from the corner of his jaw, and he flinches a little in surprise, pulling the towel away.
“Sorry,” she smiles.
“S’okay,” he chuckles. “I’m sorry for my current state.”
“I told you, it’s more than alright,” she says, grabbing the towel from him. She wipes it along his hairline, collecting the beads of sweat as she goes.
She’s so close, but so incredibly far from what she really wants right now.
“There’s plenty more cold water upstairs if you want,” she says, trying to sound absent-minded about the offer. “I might actually get to see you again if you shower here.”
“Bet you have the fancy showers that don’t randomly blast scalding water on you mid shower too,” Ted says.
Rebecca chuckles. “I do as a matter of fact.”
“Have I mentioned you’re spoilin’ me yet?”
“Might’ve come up,” Rebecca smiles and tosses the towel into the sink.
Rebecca drums her fingers on the counter; the sound of the shower running upstairs is pounding in her ears. Ted sweaty in her kitchen had been one thing, but Ted naked in her shower is another thing entirely. She can’t even see him, and her heart is racing.
She’s not entirely sure how getting him to shower here gets her any closer to the fuck him part of the strip him down, get him in a cold shower, and fuck him plan, but it’s really the only step left. Although, she was unfortunately left out of the first part.
The feeling is a little foreign to her. She’s usually very good about knowing what she wants and then getting it. Maybe she’s been too subtle, or maybe Ted is just too polite, or maybe he just really doesn’t want anything more between them.
She has to at least try. He just looks too good today.
Rebecca opens up the menu to their favourite takeout place and makes her way up the stairs, scrolling through the options. They usually do dinners, so she’s not positive what he’d want today, especially in the heat.
She pads down the hall and into her room, turning towards the bathroom, eyes on her phone.
“Ted! I was just going–” She looks up to find the door wide open.
“Rebecca!” Ted yelps, hands flying to his crotch. He has absolutely nowhere to hide in her glass shower as she spins around.
“Shit– Sorry Ted I–” she says, staring at the ceiling with her back to the bathroom.
She hadn’t seen him more than a second, but she’d seen all of him. She can hardly breathe. God, he’s fucking perfect. The split second of him is burned into her brain. Water streaming down his chest, the trail of hair leading to the trimmed curls around the base of his cock, which was – interestingly – half-hard.
“No, I’m sorry I shoulda closed the door. I just couldn’t find the fan and didn’t wanna steam up the room,” he says, sounding a little panicked.
“No, I should’ve just waited.” It’s taking a lot out of her not to turn back around. As badly as she wants to have sex with him right now, she also just wants to look at him. She wants to know every inch of him.
There’s a beat of silence, and then another before Ted speaks.
“You were gonna tell me something?” His casualness makes it worse. Better? Hotter.
Rebecca swallows hard and nods, looking back down at her phone.
“I was just going to order some lunch and wasn’t sure if you wanted your usual or something else,” she says.
“Surprise me,” he replies.
She nods again. She doesn’t know what to do. She doesn’t want to leave. She wants to see him. She needs to see him.
“Ted?” she asks quietly. It’s easier when she’s not looking at him.
“Mm?” he hums.
“Can I turn around?”
Rebecca holds her breath for the beat of silence, a thousand worries running through her mind.
“Yeah,” he replies softly. “I think you should.”
Her shoulders relax at the softness of his tone, at his I think you should.
She turns around slowly to find him pushing the shower door open. An invitation.
Her feet move before her brain starts working, her eyes glued to him, the water falling just behind him. She’s not sure what on his chest is still sweat and what’s just water, and she doesn’t care either way.
She shrugs the straps of the dress off her shoulders and steps out of it, and Ted’s eyes drop as she pulls down her underwear.
“God, Rebecca,” he mutters. “You’re so beautiful.”
Rebecca smiles and sets her phone down on the counter, and grabs Ted’s hand that he’s holding out to her, joining him in the shower.
If the water’s cold, she doesn’t notice as he crowds her against the wall, one hand on her waist while the other lands beside her head against the tile. It looks much better there than it does in her imagination.
“Thought it was just in my head,” Ted whispers, his face just inches from hers.
“What?” she asks, arms resting around his shoulders.
“The way you’ve been lookin’ at me.”
“How have I been looking at you?”
Ted’s eyes drop to her lips, then roam over her face until they land back on her eyes. He’s calm, sure of himself. More so than she’s ever seen him.
“Like you need me.”
Rebecca’s lips curl up, and she takes the bottom one between her teeth as her eyes drop to his mouth.
“Do you need me, Rebecca?” he asks quietly, leaning in a little closer.
Does she ever.
She nods, tilting her head slightly as she lets her bottom lip go, her mouth staying parted. He leans in closer, his lips ghosting over hers as their eyes fall shut.
“Tell me, Rebecca,” he whispers. “Tell me you need me.”
She curls her fingers in the hair at his nape, holding her breath as she draws everything she feels for him to the surface. Love. Want. Need. Everything she can muster before she says, “I need you, Ted.”
His arm wraps around her as he kisses her, fingers curling into her waist like he’s afraid she’ll disappear if he lets go. His tongue finds hers quickly, and she feels his chest vibrate against hers as it does.
It’s not like their first kiss. It’s not a desperate attempt to get everything they can out of a few moments, but a freeing acceptance of the fact that they absolutely should. It’s Rebecca allowing herself the thing she loves. Giving in to her desires, her needs. Taking him and giving herself to him.
She moans into the kiss when his dick presses up against her stomach, still half hard, and she smiles against his lips.
“What were you doing in here without me?” she teases between kisses.
He smiles back and kisses her a little harder.
“I was thinkin’ about you in that dress,” he admits with a little smirk.
Rebecca breaks the kiss, leaning back against the wall as she slips a hand down between them, curling her fingers around the base of his cock and watching his jaw drop as she does.
“Do you think about me, Ted?” she asks with one slow stroke, wanting to feel him harden at her touch.
He clenches his jaw and nods. “All the time.”
She smiles again and gives his length another slow stroke, brushing her thumb over the tip at the top and making him groan.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” she asks.
“'Cause look at you,” he says with a shaky chuckle, his gaze dropping to her body. “Just too perfect. Felt greedy.”
It melts her, but he’s almost too reverent with her. She loves it, but she just wants him to be as needy as she’s been all morning. She wants him sloppy and desperate. She wants to feel not just wanted, but desired. She wants him anyway she can have him.
He moans as she gives her fist another pump, and his hips buck into her.
“Don’t just look,” Rebecca purrs. “Be greedy.”
His eyes lift back to hers, a hungry little grin spreading across his lips. He presses himself flush against her, forcing her hand off him. The arm around her keeps her pulled close as his hand on the wall drifts down to her, gliding over her shoulder before sliding down to cup her tit, where he squeezes gently.
He watches her face as he pinches her nipple, rolling it between his fingers into a hard bud, and smiles when she lets out a soft little gasp.
“You think about me too?” he asks knowingly.
She nods, “Mmhm. All the time.”
He smiles and noses along her jaw before sucking gently at her pulse point, lips trailing up to her ear.
“Tell me what you think about,” he says as his hand on her breast skates down her body, sliding around to grab her ass.
She gasps softly, arching into him as he gives her a slightly rough squeeze and kisses her neck.
“You,” she pants. “Your hands. Fingers. Your cock.”
She feels him smile against her sensitive skin before his teeth gently press into her just below her ear.
“You say my name when you come?” he mutters against her skin.
She’s always loved his voice. His slight accent, his timbre, the tone. But hearing it like this… hearing him say all the things she’s only ever heard in her mind… he’s going to ruin her, and she’ll be grateful for it.
“Yes,” she admits without hesitation, head tipped back against the tile.
He gives her ass another squeeze before his hand slides around to her front, smoothing over the inside of her thigh as he spreads her legs just a bit.
“I wanna hear it, Rebecca,” he says, sliding his hand up her thigh, stopping just shy of her cunt. “Wanna hear how you sound for me.”
He leans back just enough to meet her eye, and his gaze flicks between hers and her lips as he creeps his hand a little higher. She holds her breath in anticipation, his palm just barely ghosting over where she’s already wet for him.
“This what you want, Rebecca?” he asks, his voice a little rougher.
She nods quickly. She tries to roll her hips forward, but his arm around her waist keeps her in place, and she whines softly.
“Please, Ted,” she pleads.
He smiles and finally closes the bit of space between his hand and her, letting her grind down against his palm. She moans, pulling him into a kiss with her arms around his neck.
He groans into her mouth, pressing her harder against the tile wall as he slides his hand up just enough for his fingertips to find her clit.
“Fuck–” she gasps, mouth hanging open against his as he traces slow circles.
He nips at her bottom lip and adds a little more pressure, flicking gently with his middle finger. Her nails dig into his shoulders as she tries to keep her knees from buckling. He tenses slightly and slides his fingers through her slit, smiling at what he finds.
“How long you been like this?” he teases hungrily.
“Since you sat down,” she says, breathless.
“God, Rebecca,” he groans. “Wish I knew you needed me as badly as I needed you.”
She goes to answer, but she’s interrupted by a gasp being pushed from her lungs as two thick fingers slip inside her to the last knuckle.
“So perfect,” he mutters, kissing her again as he curls his fingers inside her.
She moans against him, feeling a little dizzy as he finds the spot that makes her toes turn against the tile over and over again.
He doesn’t seem to mind that she can’t really kiss him back. If anything, he likes it. He kisses the corners of her mouth, sucks at her bottom lip, kissing the top one, teases his tongue against hers, all the while she’s left panting and moaning as he fingers her against the wall.
“Ted–” she gasps as her pleasure starts to coil tightly in her core.
“There we go,” he smiles and keeps curling his fingers inside her as his thumb brushes over her clit. “Let me hear you.”
She moans, looking at him through half-lidded eyes as her vision starts to blur.
He keeps talking her through it, offering sweet little praise. Telling her how good she looks, sounds, and feels, and he kisses her whenever she struggles to speak.
She chokes out his name as she tightens around his fingers, her forehead dropping to his shoulder, and her breath gets stuck in her throat as she comes. Ted groans, rolling his hips into her, pressing his dick against her stomach as she does, and he slows his pace to ease her down.
He’s better than any amount of fantasy in her head could have ever conjured. He’s somehow both rougher and gentler than she imagined, and he’s even more vocal, and he gives and gives and gives, and it makes him so hard she barely has to touch him.
Even now, hard and leaking against her as he slips his fingers out of her and she slumps into him, his focus is completely on her. He asks if she’s okay. He kisses her temples, the top of her head, and nudges her out of the crook of his neck to kiss her cheek and her lips. He tells her how incredible she is and how beautiful she looks, and he asks her what she needs from him, asks if she needs more.
“I need you to fuck me,” she replies, still a little breathless. “Please.”
“Got no idea how badly I need you right now, Rebecca,” he says, curling his hands around her waist.
She smiles with her lip between her teeth and glances down at his dick that’s standing straight up.
“I’ve got a hunch,” she teases.
He smiles, and she lets out a little yelp of surprise as he spins her around. He presses his cock against her ass and bends her just enough that she has to brace herself against the wall.
“You think about this part too?” he asks, gliding one hand along her spine as the other grabs her waist.
“Yes,” she replies, smiling at him over her shoulder.
“Me too,” he grins, leaning over to kiss across her shoulders.
He presses his lips just behind her ear, holding her waist with one hand as his other slips to his dick and he presses his tip against her. He doesn’t push in, just enough pressure to start easing her open as he nips at the shell of her ear.
“Take it, sweetheart. Take what you need,” he whispers.
She braces herself a little more firmly against the wall before pressing back into him, not stopping until he's fully inside her, hips flush to her ass.
“Fuck,” she moans, and he chokes out a gasp, fingers curling tightly around her waist.
He clearly didn’t expect to take him all at once, but he told her to take what she needs, and this is exactly what she needs.
He straightens up a little, his breath heavy behind her, and his second hand joins the first on her waist.
She looks back over his shoulder to see his chest heaving, head tipping back with his eyes closed, the shower stream falling against his back. She smiles at the sight of him, at the way he’s taking a moment just to savour her, maybe to settle himself a little.
Not that she didn’t believe him before, but it’s clearer than ever that he really does want this as badly as she does. She can tell he’s memorizing the feel of her the same way she’s doing to him. Memorizing what they won’t have to imagine anymore.
Then his head tilts back down as his eyes open, and his gaze lands on hers, and he gives her a first, slow roll of his hips.
She bites her lip, stifling a little moan at the patient glide of his cock, not quite slipping out before he presses back into her.
“Fuck Ted,” she breaths, fingers tensing against the tile.
“You feel amazin’,” he mutters. His eyes leave hers and roam over her back as he sets a slow, but intentional pace, constantly moving and making sure she gets all of him every time.
Her head falls between her shoulders as his thrusts get a little harder, just enough to hear the slap of skin every time he bottoms out.
Rebecca has had a lot of good sex in her life, but she’s never had it feel so right before. She’s never felt so meant for the person, had them feel so made for her.
He fills her so perfectly, again and again, like his dick was meant for her and her alone. His hands fit around her waist as though he moulded her out of clay. He knows what she needs before she does.
He knows to fuck her harder before she has to ask. He knows not to stifle his groans, and knows not to be afraid of holding her too tightly or talking too much. He knows how to let himself go for her. Somehow, he knows she wants him sloppy and desperate, and he makes her feel more than desired. He makes her feel like he needs her more than air.
She arches her back slightly, and the angle lets him go a little deeper with the next thrust, and he chokes out a gasp.
“Christ, Rebecca,” he pants, pulling her back into every snap of his hips. “Any more tricks I should know about?”
She lets out a shaky little chuckle that comes out more aroused than anything. “Plenty.”
She looks back with a teasing smile, and he lets go of her waist for a moment to give her ass an affectionate smack, his pace never wavering.
“Gonna ruin me,” he says playfully, but he means it.
He gives her one sharper thrust and pushes a moan out of her, head falling back between her shoulders.
She likes that he’s almost cocky about the way he fucks her. Not in a self-centred way, but just that he knows how good he’s making her feel, and that he’s quite proud of it.
He coaxes moans and gasps out of her, and praises her for them, and encourages more. He’s not afraid to surprise her with a few rougher thrusts or to tease her with slower ones. He’s just enjoying learning from her, and she loves every second of it.
She feels him start to twitch inside her, and can feel the strain in his grip on her waist as he tries to keep himself steady.
He wraps an arm around her, pulling her up against him, chest flush to her back and his other hand drops between her thighs, fingers landing on her clit just above where he’s still driving into her.
She gasps a curse at the sudden change in angle and clenches around him, jaw dropped, though nothing beyond a few choked breaths makes their way out of her.
“Need you to come again for me,” he mutters roughly in her ear.
Rebecca moans, body tensing as he focuses more on her clit, his thrusts getting shallower as he turns his attention back entirely on her.
She reaches back, curling her fingers in his hair and pulling his head against her neck. He answers her silent call immediately, sucking and kissing her as he keeps working her over, panting against her skin.
Even with the cool water raining down just behind them, she can taste the salt on him when she turns her head, kissing his jaw and cheek before his lips find hers.
They both struggle to kiss each other, more tongue and teeth than anything, as they swallow each other's moans. He circles her clit a little faster with a little more pressure, and gasps when she clenches around him, hips stuttering for a moment.
“Need you to come, Rebecca, please,” he pants. “Gettin’ close.”
She nods, it’s all she can manage. The onslaught of sensations is almost overwhelming. His arm around her, his breath against hers, his hair in her fingers, and most of all, his cock sliding in and out of her as his fingers work in tandem.
She reaches down with her free hand and adjusts his hand just a hair, helping him find the perfect spot that’ll send her over the edge as quickly as he needs right now.
“Oh fuck,” she moans, tilting her head back against him as she starts to shake.
He adds a little more pressure, and that’s all it takes. She comes hard, choking on her breath, and when she tightens like a vice around him, it pulls him right over with her.
He buries himself in her, panting her name and even a few curses as he fills her, collapsing forward a little until she’s pressed against the wall. He grinds deeper into her, pulsing through his orgasm as he helps her down from hers. His eyes are shut, his neck strained, and he comes for what feels like at least ten seconds, Rebecca’s thighs trembling under her.
“Jesus Christ,” he pants, slumping against her, bracing against the wall to keep them from falling. The cool tile feels nice against her chest.
“That’s all you have to say for yourself?” she teases, equally breathless.
He chuckles and gives her ass a little smack in retaliation.
“Give me a minute,” he says. “Lil’ lackin’ in vocabulary at the moment.”
She smiles and turns her head to give him a slow, deep kiss that has him grinding into her again with a low, rumbling groan.
He slowly breaks the kiss, trailing a few more along her cheek and to the top of her shoulder before he looks at her. Whatever hunger and arousal in his eyes early has given way to something softer.
“You know I love you, right?” he whispers, his eyes searching hers.
Rebecca’s lips curl into a soft smile, and she gives him a small nod.
“Of course,” she murmurs. “No one’s ever loved me the way you do.”
He smiles and leans in to kiss her again, one hand coming around to rest against her stomach.
“And I love you, Ted,” she whispers when he breaks the kiss.
“I know,” he says, resting his chin on her shoulder. “We’re just full of confessions today, aren’t we?”
Rebecca chuckles. “Long overdue.”
“You can say that again.”
They grin at each other, and he gives her another kiss before slipping out of her. She feels empty, but it’s hardly noticeable against all the warmth and love she’s feeling, too. Not to mention how wonderfully sated she feels for the first time in what feels like forever.
Ted sinks onto the shower floor, back against the wall and holds a hand up to her, helping her down next to him. She rests her head on his shoulder, and they lace their fingers together where their thighs are touching as the cool shower rains down on their shins.
He turns his head to kiss the top of her head, and mutters a few barely audible things about how beautiful she is.
“We should just stay here all day,” Rebecca muses.
“I was thinkin’ we should go get ice cream,” Ted replies.
“I thought you didn’t want to go back outside,” she chuckles.
“That was before I found out how much you like me all sweaty,” he teases. “Then we could just come right back in here and get all cooled off again.”
“If you look like that again, we aren’t making it to the shower.”
“Is that a promise?”
Rebecca tilts her head up to meet his eye, answering his cheeky smile with a playful glare. She gives him a little once over, admiring his relaxed slump against the wall, damp hair, wet chest, and his not-quite-soft dick before she looks back up at him.
Summary: Ted hires one Rebecca Welton as Henry’s new piano teacher.
Chapter length: 10.2k
VIII.
~TL~
Ted’s fingers drum on the side of his takeout coffee cup set on the little patio table of the cafe. Beard is slouched back in his chair across from Ted, arms crossed over his chest as he listens to Ted’s ramblings.
“I mean, it’s a ‘lil weird, ain’t it?” Ted's words come out faster than his brain works. “Settin’ up a whole big romantic dinner like it’s valentines day or an anniversary or somethin’ just to tell her that I love her– which I’m pretty sure she already knows, and I’m pretty sure she’s gonna say it back, so I’m not even really worried ‘bout that part, but I just wanted to make nice and fancy and real special ‘cause I also think we should have sex tonight. And it’s not like we haven’t done anythin’– ‘cause we have – and it’s been incredible – but we haven’t done it, yet, which is like– well, it’s not a big deal, but it’s like… It’s a deal. Y’know? It’s important. And she’s just so perfect, and I wanna make sure it’s all perfect.”
Beard doesn’t answer immediately, waiting to make sure Ted’s done for good before responding.
“Yeah, it’s a little weird,” he says.
“Right… right, right, right, right.” Ted clicks his tongue. “But it’s kinda romantic too, right? She’s gonna like it?”
“Oh, she’s gonna love it.”
Ted nods, taking a nervous sip of his coffee. He looks around to make sure no one’s listening and leans over the table a little closer to Beard, speaking in a hushed tone now.
“And the sex… I mean… I’m not worried ‘bout it, but it has been a lil’ while since I did, y’know, that part of it, and gosh, she is just so beautiful, I mean, you would not believe…” Ted’s voice trails off as he mimes his head exploding. “And I know she wants to, she’s been ready for a while, but now I’m just wonderin’… did I wait too long? What if she made up some crazy fantasy I could never live up to?”
“Ted,” Beard says.
“Mm?”
“Do you want to have sex with her tonight?”
Ted nods. “Big time.”
“And she wants to have sex with you?”
“I mean, I’ll double check, but I’m pretty positive, yeah.”
“And all this other stuff.” Beard gestures vaguely. “You’ve had fun?”
“Think so, yeah,” Ted says, giving his head a few bobs as he thinks about it. “If she wasn’t, she should be in the runnin’ for an Oscar this year.”
“So… what are you worried about?” Beard asks.
“I guess I’m just worried ‘bout–” Ted cuts himself off, pondering the question. “Well… guess I’m not really worried ‘bout anythin’ now that I’ve said all that out loud,” Ted chuckles. “Yeah… It’s gonna be pretty perfect, ain’t it?”
Beard gives him a subtle, approving nod and raises his cup to Ted’s.
“Thank you, Beardo,” Ted says, tapping his cup to Beard’s. “Always know just what to say to right my ship, give me a chill pill, get me back on track, pull me out of a tailspin, all that other fun stuff.”
~RW~
Rebecca admires herself in the mirror of the boutique's changeroom. She can’t remember the last time she shopped for lingerie. She also doesn’t remember feeling so good wearing it.
The first set had been far too dainty, held together by what felt like toothfloss. The second was nice, but didn’t feel quite right. But this one is perfect.
The lace of the bodysuit is sage green, and zigzagging straps down her sides link the front piece to the back. Thin straps sit comfortably over her shoulders and don’t feel like they’re threatening to break at every hint of movement, and little embroidered flowers blend in with the mesh. The shape is gorgeous, too, every curve proudly on display as the fabric quickly tapers from just below her breasts down to a sharp V between her thighs, leaving her waist and hips bare.
She looks fucking good, and Keeley thinks so too when she opens the curtain.
“Fucking hell, Rebecca!” Keeley exclaims, jaw dropped. “You look fucking gorgeous, babes. I mean, wow– you are blowing my brains out with your beautiful breasts right now.”
“Thank you, Keeley,” Rebeecca laughs, giving a little turn and catching a glimpse of her backside in the mirror.
“If he doesn’t fuck you tonight, I absolutely volunteer.”
“Noted.” Rebecca chuckles. “But I told you, I don’t care either way.”
“No, yeah, totally,” Keeley deadpans. “I also go buy stupidly priced, stupidly sexy lingerie when I don’t care if my fit, multiple orgasm giving boyfriend who is cooking for me tonight fucks me for the first time or not.”
“He’s not–” He’s all those things. “I just want to look nice for him.”
“Exactly, and I’m sure you’ll look very nice with his cock inside you,” Keeley says with a mockingly innocent smile.
Rebecca rolls her eyes as she steps back into the changing stall, shutting the curtain behind her with playful aggression.
“Do you think it’s going to be like, slow missionary with candles and shit?” Keeley calls from the other side of the curtain.
Jesus Christ.
“We’re not talking about this anymore, Keeley,” Rebecca replies, smiling to herself as she undresses.
She does not think it’ll be slow missionary with candles and shit. Not the whole time, anyway.
“Oh, stop pretending it’s not the only thing you’ve thought of for the last, like, month,” Keeley teases. “Christ, I mean, it’s all I’ve been thinking about.”
“That’s unsettling,” Rebecca chuckles, pulling her slacks up.
“Well, my sex life isn’t exactly raging right now,” Keeley replies. “And honestly, I’m a little jealous of all the incredible not sex sex you’ve been having.”
“It has been quite good,” Rebecca admits, tucking the hem of her knit sweater into her pants.
She steps back out to where Keeley is waiting, the lingerie slung over her arm.
“What did he say again?” Keeley asks.
“He invited me for dinner and said he doesn’t want to wait anymore,” Rebecca replies.
“Oh yeah, he’s totally going to fuck your beautiful brains out.”
In the most modest way and without expectations of anything more than a lovely dinner with Ted, whom she really must tell she loves, god, she hopes he does.
~TL~
Remember when Ted said it was going to be perfect? Yeah, Ted was wrong. Ted said that before he forgot how candles work, and kitchens, and timers, and also before he discovered that one hundred petals is actually not that many petals when you’re trying to scatter them around a bedroom.
His plan was to make his bedroom into a beautiful, romantic getaway. He was going to scatter rose petals around his bed and over the duvet, and light candles on his bedside table. That was the plan.
And he did technically do all that. The problem is there aren’t nearly enough petals to make it look like anything beyond booking a honeymoon at a Motel 6, and he lit the candles way too early because he figured if he did them earlier, he wouldn’t have to worry about it later. He’s since been reminded that candles melt. And since discovered that candles are a lot less romantic looking as stubby little unevenly melted wax blobs.
And those are just the problems in the bedroom; the kitchen is the real tragedy.
His plan here was to make a lovely three-course meal. A nice cheesy garlic herb and olive oil dip to go with some homemade pita chips, followed by a lovely lemon chicken picatta with noodles, and then a little tiramisu to share at the end.
As it turns out, that’s a lot to make in one afternoon, and he quickly lost track of what had to go where and when, what stage of which recipe he was at, and just keeping track of the timing in his head with the oven clock did not go as well as he’d hoped.
Instead, what he has to offer is a cheesy, herb and olive oil dip with no garlic, and enough pita chips to feed maybe one toddler. He also has a lemon chicken that does have garlic, though it’s not supposed to, and although that alone wouldn’t ruin the dish, the fact that it’s burnt to a crisp definitely does. Oh, and he has three mixing bowls with various parts of what could eventually become a tiramisu.
Did he mention that the whole place also smells like smoke? No? Well, the whole place also smells like smoke.
Ted’s shirt is unbuttoned halfway down his sweaty chest and halfway tucked into his pants with his belt undone. He’s frantically opening windows around his apartment to get some airflow going, hoping to get to it before his fire alarm goes off again.
He catches sight of himself in the reflection. Although he had done his hair earlier, it’s now fallen mostly out of place from how many times he’s frantically run his fingers through his hair. A few strands land at the arch of his brow where, just above, a lovely black mark is smeared on his forehead. Presumably from the black mark on the back of his hand, which is from the chicken turned charcoal.
And he’s panicking. Not a full-on panic attack, but he’s not exactly having a great time. He’s breathing quickly, heels of his palms on his temples with his fingers curled tightly in his hair – no sense worrying about messing it up anymore – as he tries to come up with something to do before Rebecca arrives in five– four minutes. Then there’s a knock on the door.
She’s early.
The open window and short drop down onto the road for a quick getaway looks really appealing right now.
~RW~
Rebecca waits by his door, smoothing her red dress down over her stomach. It’s not overly fancy. Tight around the hips with a subtle frill around her knees. She mostly picked it because the cut is just perfect to hide her surprise for Ted underneath. And because she looks fucking great in red.
She doesn’t think much of the faint smell of smoke; she’s not even convinced it’s coming from his place. She waits about thirty seconds for him to come, and when he doesn’t, she slowly opens the door.
The smoke is definitely coming from his place. She doesn’t think there’s been a fire, but something clearly spent too much time in the oven.
“Ted?” she calls out.
“No! You can’t come in!” Ted calls back. He sounds panicked.
“Ted, are you okay? Where are you?” She pokes her head into the kitchen, but it’s empty. It’s also a mess.
“Please, Rebecca.” She narrows the sound of his voice to his living room.
She steps out of her heels and slowly walks around the corner to find Ted. He’s sitting in his armchair in the corner of the room beside an open window, fingers drumming his thighs so quickly they’re just a blur, and his one knee is bouncing.
He looks as though he’s just walked through a tornado. He also looks very hot with his tousled hair, glistening chest out and his belt undone, though now doesn’t seem a great time to mention that to him.
He doesn’t say anything, just stares at her with wide, worried eyes as she slowly makes her way over to him. She crouches beside the chair, one hand stilling his bouncing knee.
“Are you okay?” she asks softly, reaching up to brush a black mark off his cheek with the pad of her thumb.
“Can we reschedule?” His breathing is heavy, but it’s not frantic, though she can tell his heart’s racing.
“I’m already here,” she smiles.
He manages a faint, brief smile of his own.
“Come sit with me,” she says, nodding to the couch as she rises.
He doesn’t stand until she holds a hand out, and he slowly takes it and follows her lead to the couch.
She sits next to him, one hand on his back, where she rubs up and down gently. He hunches over a little, forearms on his thighs, hands on his elbows, and he doesn’t look at her. She rests her other hand on his forearm, thumb brushing back and forth.
She feels his heart beating against her palm on his back, but it slowly steadies to a more reasonable pace as she keeps gently rubbing. His breathing evens out, too, and his eyes look less frantic.
“Are you alright, though, Ted? You didn’t burn yourself, did you?”
“Not physically, no.” He shakes his head. “Just the chicken.”
Rebecca chuckles softly. “That’s good.”
“It’s not good, Rebecca. I had plans,” he grumbles.
“Very elaborate ones by the looks of it,” she smiles.
“It was gonna be perfect. I had everythin’ planned out,” Ted laments. “We were gonna have a great dinner, starter, main, dessert, the works. And I was finally gonna tell you I love you.” Rebecca’s smile widens. He doesn’t even notice he said it. “And then I was gonna take you to my very romantic bedroom, and then we were hopefully gonna have sex, like sex sex, and it was all gonna be perfect and big romantic gestures because that’s what you deserve, but now it’s all.” He gestures sadly towards the kitchen.
“Is that all?” she asks, sliding her hand from his back to brush the hair off his forehead and turn his face to her.
He gives her a little nod, frowning slightly as she cups his cheek.
“I love you, Ted,” she says, smiling softly.
Her eyes flick between his as his brows rise slightly in surprise before he frowns again.
“No– wait, I didn’t– It was supposed– I had this big–”
“Ted,” she interrupts calmly. “I’m sure you have a wonderful speech or toast or something planned, and I’m sure it would’ve been absolutely beautiful, and maybe you could tell it to me one day, but there’s really only three words I would’ve cared about hearing right now, and you’ve already said them.”
He looks like he wants to argue again, like there’s somehow something more romantic than a love confession spilled out without thinking twice about it. Something more romantic than honesty and instinct.
Then a wide grin spreads across his face.
“You love me?” he asks.
Rebecca lets out a huff of laughter, giving him the most adoring smile as she does.
“I do,” she says. “And I don’t know why I’ve been waiting to tell you, but I love you, Ted Lasso.”
Ted’s smile somehow gets bigger, cheeks up to his big heart eyes.
“I love you,” he breaths, then louder, “I love you so much.”
He lunges at her, hands on either side of her face as he kisses her. He presses his lips to hers until she feels them start to tremble, and when he pulls back, he’s still smiling, but he wipes away a tear with the back of his hand.
Rebecca smiles, eyebrows twitching as she tries to hold back her own tears. She pulls him back in for a slow, soft kiss, savouring every second of it. It feels sooo good to have finally said it out loud.
“I love you,” they both whisper when she pulls back, and then they both chuckle.
“You look so beautiful,” he says, gliding a hand down her arm and hooking his fingers in hers as his eyes wander down her dress.
“You look like a bit of a mess,” she chuckles kindly. “But a very hot mess. I quite like it.”
She smiles and drags a finger down the exposed skin from the base of his neck to just below his sternum, sliding her hand into his shirt to hold his waist. He chuckles and blushes a little.
“I am sorry ‘bout the evenin’ bein’ ruined,” he sighs.
“Ruined? This is the best night I’ve had, maybe ever.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Of course it is. You just told me you love me,” she smiles, tilting his chin up to her. “I’m not going to be upset by a little burnt chicken.”
Ted smiles softly and nods.
“And besides, this night is far from over,” she adds. “And I am not taking this dress off myself tonight, so here’s what we’re going to do.”
She lays out a plan for them. Ted is to go grab a new shirt and pants from his room while Rebecca orders them food, and then they’re going to go to her place, and Ted is going to take a shower, and then they’re going to have a perfect, perfect evening.
“And I’ll send Mina over here in the morning so you don’t have to worry about this,” she finishes, gesturing to the kitchen.
“That is a very good plan,” Ted nods. “And that is one of the many reasons I love you, which you woulda heard ‘bout in my speech.”
“Another time,” Rebecca chuckles, pulling him in for a kiss before they set the plan in motion.
~TL~
Ted checks himself in her bathroom mirror, smoothing his hair back. His black dress pants have been traded in for navy ones, and his old white dress shirt will be needing a visit to the cleaners, but the one he’s wearing now is spotless. He takes his time doing up his buttons, leaving the top one undone, before tucking his shirt into his pants.
He may not be panicked anymore – Rebecca settled him and then some – but he’s still humming with nerves, both good and bad. He takes a few deep breaths, closing his eyes as he does.
She’s waiting for him just downstairs, and she loves him, and she looks absolutely gorgeous, and she wants them to have a perfect, perfect evening.
He walks downstairs, socks quiet against the hardwood, and turns into the kitchen. There’s an open bottle of wine on the counter, a corkscrew and cork just next to it, and an empty brown takeout bag, but Rebecca is nowhere to be found.
“Rebecca?” Ted calls out.
“Outside, love,” she calls back.
Ted wanders back out into the hall, through the living room, and out onto an enclosed outdoor patio. There’s a gas fireplace flickering against the wall, warming the windowed space, soft moonlight blending with the warm glow of the minimalist chandelier above the table.
A few electric candles are flickering on the glass tabletop framed by black woven wicker. Two chairs with matching wicker frames and white cushions sit about a foot apart from each other, facing out towards her lawn.
And then there’s Rebecca. She looks exactly the same as she did when she arrived at Ted’s place earlier this evening, but it doesn’t make his breath catch any less.
She leans over a little, her back to him, as she lays down one last takeout box onto the table. An amusing contrast to the beautiful place settings she’s put out. The red wine matches her dress, and her curves are as elegant as those of the crystal glasses.
He quietly comes up behind her, hands finding her waist as he kisses from one gorgeous shoulder to the other.
“I love you,” he mutters. It’s the easiest thing in the world to say, and he doesn’t know why he waited to say it.
She smiles as his hands slide around her, and he nuzzles into the crook of her neck, brushing his nose and moustache against her before landing another gentle kiss.
She slowly turns in his arms, her index coming up under his chin as she guides him in for a delicate kiss.
“I love you,” she whispers before another soft press of her lips to his.
He smiles, wrapping his arms more tightly around her as she does the same, cheek to cheek, breathing each other in.
There’s a soft piano melody filling the silence, and he recognizes it as one of her own recordings from her collection she’d shown him last week. It’s beautiful, organic, and he might just be the only person in the world to ever hear it.
She slowly pulls away from him with a peck to his cheek and holds his hand, gesturing for him to take a seat.
“Now, this is no three-course homemade feast, but I think it’ll do the trick,” Rebecca says playfully.
Ted chuckles, “You will actually be gettin’ one of those at some point, sweetheart, I just know that I need more than an afternoon now.”
“I look forward to it,” she smiles.
Rebecca opens the containers, revealing a wide array of pub and finger foods. Fish and chips, mozzarella sticks, meat pasties, and all sorts of things he wouldn’t expect a woman wearing a dress like that to be eating tonight.
He chuckles again at the sight of her plating the greasy food on her fanciest china and the elegant napkin he lays across his lap.
Before she can sit, he grabs her hand and pulls her down for another soft kiss, and whispers a quiet “thank you” against her lips.
She smiles, brushing her thumb over his cheek before she takes a seat.
He reaches for his wine, and she does the same and clinks his glass to hers.
“To perfect evenings,” she smiles.
Ted exhales sharply through his nose, giving her a tiny shake of his head as he takes a sip.
“I mean it, Ted. It’s perfect.”
He sighs softly, “You definitely are.”
She rolls her eyes playfully but gives him a beautiful, appreciative smile.
“It doesn’t have to be flawless to be perfect, Ted,” she says.
“I think those are the same thing,” Ted notes.
“We can have a chat with Merriam-Webster about that later,” she chuckles, “but you know what I mean.”
Ted nods with a little laugh. “I do.”
“And there’s been a lot that hasn’t been flawless with us so far, but I think it’s all been pretty perfect, don’t you?”
Ted nods again, expression softening. “I do.”
“So, we’ll keep being perfectly flawed.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He leans over to her, meeting her halfway between their sets for a lingering kiss. He wishes he could just kiss her forever. Nothing could ever be wrong with her lips against his.
He laces his fingers in hers as he sits back, and they don’t let go of each other's hands the whole way through dinner. They laugh and talk in the soft glow, slowly melting away any residual stressors from earlier in the evening until he’s nothing but perfectly happy to be sitting here with her, all dressed up, eating pub food from soggy brown boxes with fancy silverware.
When they finish off the last of the brownie that may have been better suited for more than two people, he leans back in his chair with a satisfied sigh, one hand on his stomach as he drags her chair closer to his and drapes an arm around her.
They both know where the evening is going now, but there’s still no rush to get to it.
His fingers play idly in her hair, and she rests her hand on his thigh, gently stroking with her thumb as they both look out at the lawn, the silhouette of a large tree just barely visible in the dark, swaying in the wind.
Usually, he’d be rushing to clean up, even if Rebecca insisted he didn’t, but he doesn’t really have the urge tonight. No restlessness bubbling in his gut, no need to take care of anything. He just wants to stay here a little longer, with his arm around her, and her hand on his leg.
She’s the only one who seems to be capable of stilling him, capable of making him savour. He can just sit in a moment with her. Even with Henry, Ted’s usually thinking about what’s next, which is partly because that’s just the nature of life with a twelve-year-old boy, but he wishes he were better at savouring.
She makes him better.
Ted puts the last container in the fridge, turning back to Rebecca, who is sitting on the counter. It’s genuinely unfair how good her hips and waist look when she's sitting like that. She cants her head ever so slightly, a silent call beckoning him forward, and one he can’t resist.
He lands between her legs, palms smoothing over the soft fabric covering her thighs as they glide to her waist. Hers come to his chest, sliding up over his pecs, skin moulding under the fabric, and around his neck, a finger swirling in his hair.
“Hi, handsome,” she whispers, smiling softly.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he mutters, leaning in to trail kisses along her jaw.
“Are you going to take me to bed now?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
His arms slide around her back, pulling her to the edge of the counter until she’s pressed firmly against him as he sucks gently just below her ear.
There’s no neediness to the little gasp she lets out, and there’s none to the gentle nip to her lobe. There’s just a hazy desire. A delicate longing. An achingly patient hunger.
He’s going to savour her.
He slides her off the counter, her bare feet landing softly on the tile. Her hands find his as she walks backwards to the hall.
She leads him up the stairs, her soft green eyes landing unwaveringly on him. She looks like she’s floating, looking down at him as she slowly takes one step at a time. He’s walking foreward and can’t take the steps nearly as gracefully as she does.
The hallway is dark, the soft glow from her bedroom silhouetting her. He doesn’t even feel the floor under his feet anymore. There could be a war raging around him right now and he wouldn’t notice.
Her hands move to his shoulders, and his to her waist, as she sits him down on the foot of the bed, mattress bowing under him. Then her fingers find his top button.
It feels like the first time she’s ever undressed him as she makes her way down his shirt. Her bottom lip is held gently between her teeth, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth as she slides the shirt off his shoulders.
She hooks a finger under his chin, tilting his face up to her, the ring of light from the lamp casting a halo on the ceiling around her.
“You look perfect,” she murmurs.
“Flawless?” he teases softly.
“No,” she smiles. “But perfect.”
Ted smiles, hands moving to the small of her back as he brings her closer, and his lips land at the top of her stomach. Then he looks up at her, chin resting gently against her as one hand creeps to the zipper of her dress.
She helps her straps off her shoulders as he unzips. The dress slowly falls, pooling at her feet and–
Holy shit.
Words. He knew them once. Right?
His jaw drops open, hands still as a statue on her waist.
It’s like he’s never seen her naked before. She’s not even naked.
Holy shit.
Is he still breathing? He’s not sure he is.
His blood flow is working quite well; he knows that much.
His hands inch up a tiny bit, thumbs dipping below the bottom straps just above the hollows of her waist. He forces himself to take a deep breath just to check that he is, in fact, still breathing, and his eyes roam up every gorgeous inch of lace and skin to her perfect eyes.
“Jesus Christ,” is, regrettably, all he manages to say.
“It’s La Perla, actually,” she teases softly.
He chuckles and regains a little function of his brain. A little being the keywords there.
“Well, whatever it is you are– I mean– You’re just– Wow.” He shakes his head in awe as he looks back down at the lingerie. He can’t imagine it could’ve possibly been made with anyone but her in mind.
“I’m glad you like it,” she smiles.
“Like is an understatement, sweetheart,” he says. “I mean, beautiful doesn’t even begin to cover it.”
“Thank you.” She smiles and gives him a little spin, his hands gliding over lace, skin, lace as she does. His eyes drop to her completely uncovered ass and bravely manage to rise back to her eyes once she’s facing him again, though they do linger on her breasts on their way back up.
She flattens a palm in the middle of his chest, swinging one leg over him, and then the other as she lays him down flat on the bed under her. He pulls her down flush against his already half-hard bulge as her lips find his.
It’s slow, but hungry and desperate, and he moans when she grinds down against him, quickly hardening under her. He grabs her ass, the plump skin of her cheeks squeezing between his fingers, and hers curl in his hair as she gasps.
He rolls his hips up into her, jaw dropping at the friction and heat of her, and she abandons his lips for his jaw, neck, collarbone before she bites gently at the soft skin above the muscles of his chest and he hisses in a breath.
He quickly grabs her jaw, pulling her mouth back to his, tongue diving to meet hers. His other hand stays planted firmly on her ass as he rolls them over, slotting himself between her legs. He shifts them up to the middle of the bed, and his knees creep up, pushing her thighs up around his waist.
Ted plants an elbow on the mattress beside her head, his other hand grabs her waist, keeping her still when he grinds down into her with a rough groan. She moans into his kiss, fingers digging into his shoulders as he does it again.
He does it once, twice, three more times before her hands slide between them, grabbing blindly at his belt buckle until she manages to get it undone, their lips never parting as she pulls it frantically from its loops.
He sits back on his heels, panting as he stares at her, and quickly undoes his fly. Her chest is already flush, and it’s creeping up her neck, curling under her jaw like a tide coming in, and she never once looks away from him.
He rolls onto his side for a moment, quickly kicking off his pants and boxer briefs at once, because he’s not going to want to stop later to have to get them off.
Then he’s over her again, moaning as he grinds his cock against her thigh, and again when she licks her palm and wraps her fingers around him.
She doesn’t stroke him; she just holds her hand still on her pelvis and lets him thrust into it.
His elbows dig into the mattress on either side of her head, his forehead resting on hers, panting as he fucks into her fist. He feels like a bolt of lightning just before it strikes, buzzing with energy, and he just needs to get a little out before he explodes so he can get back to slowly taking her apart.
Her free hand comes up to his jaw, an index and thumb digging into each cheek, forcing his mouth open as she smiles hungrily at him.
“That’s it. Fuck Ted, you’re so hard,” she purrs. He nods, groaning in agreement, unable to speak with how she’s holding his face. “You’re going to feel so fucking good.”
He groans, hips stuttering when she curls her fingers tighter around him, and it slows him down.
He lets out a deep, rough exhale as he grinds forward until her hand flares around the base of his dick and lets go, leaving him gliding against the smooth skin of her stomach just beside the seam of her lace. He rolls his hips once, twice more, savouring the feel of her skin against the underside of his cock before leaning down to kiss her.
He’s settled again, savouring again. His own pleasure a distant second to hers.
~RW~
Ted doesn’t even bother pushing the lace aside the first time he makes Rebecca come. He just licks and sucks her through it until the fabric is soaked through and ruined, and he looks delightfully pleased about it.
He keeps landing wet, soft kisses against the fabric over her clit until she stops twitching every time he does, and then his lips trail to the inside of her thigh as he lowers it off his shoulder before he hooks two fingers under the lace covering her pussy.
“We’re gonna take this nice and slow, okay, sweetheart?” he murmurs, pulling the fabric to the side.
She nods, swallowing hard.
“Want you nice and ready for me,” he smiles and kisses the inside of her thigh.
He props himself on one elbow just inside her left thigh, lying half on his side as he gently pushes her right a little wider.
She holds her breath as his hand creeps towards her, and her stomach tenses as the fingertip of his middle finger teases a circle around the dripping entrance of her cunt.
He gives her a pleased little smirk when she clenches around nothing and keeps his eyes on her as he drags his finger up between her lips, spreading her arousal up over her clit before pulling away with the softest flick.
“Fuck–” she chokes out.
“God, you’re so wet. So perfect,” he mutters reverently.
“Ted, please,” she pleads softly.
“I know.” He kisses her hip. “I’ve got you.”
She watches, mesmerized, as he slips his own middle finger between his lips, doe eyes looking up at her as he gives it a suck and pulls it free with a wet pop.
She’s happy– beyond happy he’s taking it so slow, because she knows she needs it, but fuck if she doesn’t just want him to take her right now.
He teases his middle finger around her again, but he doesn’t slide up to her clit this time, and instead slips inside her. He sinks into the last knuckle quickly, and she could – and has many times – take more already, but Ted has other plans.
She moans at the first curl of his finger, eyes falling shut so she doesn’t see him lean in to wrap his lips around her clit. He sucks a sharp gasp from her, and her hands shoot to his head.
“Fuck!” she cries out, fingers curling tightly in his hair.
He lets out a satisfied, hungry moan that vibrates through her core, making her twitch between his lips as he keeps sucking.
His finger, tongue, and mouth work together seamlessly. Finger curling into her again and again, dragging over that perfect spot inside her with every swipe, and his tongue finds every single nerve ending as he sucks gently.
Her back arches off the bed, and she pulls his mouth in harder against her. His free hand skates up her body, groping at her tits before he pulls them free from the lace and rolls her nipples into peaks between his thumb and index.
Her body feels like a firecracker, strangled moans and choked gasps filling the air. He knows every inch of her already, and it’s her beautiful undoing every time.
She comes hard, moaning his name and clenching around his finger, and his mouth slows, coaxing her down from her high with gentle pumps of his finger, before he pulls it out, drawing a long exhale from Rebecca’s lips.
“Okay?” he asks.
“God, yes,” she chuckles breathlessly.
He smiles, plants a few wet kisses across her hips, and then does the whole thing over again with two fingers.
And then again with three.
A slow build, a hard release, and then he gently brings her down. It’s perfect, and he doesn’t overstimulate her even once, and Rebecca can’t take another.
“Ted–” she pants.
“I know. I know, sweetheart,” he whispers. “I know you’re ready.”
He sits her up, pulling one strap of her bodysuit off her shoulder, and then the other.
“Wanna see all of you, Rebecca,” he mutters. “Need all of you tonight.”
She nods, watching his eyes as he slowly slides the bodysuit off her. As nice as it is, she agrees, she doesn’t want anything but skin. Nothing but him against her.
Then he shifts down between her legs, lips landing just above her ankle, then a little higher, up her calf, over her knee, and he keeps trailing up. He gives her cunt a teasing swipe of his tongue on his way by, making her twitch, and smirks a little when she glares playfully at him.
Then his lips land on her stomach, up her ribs, between and over each breast, stopping to suck each nipple before he keeps making his way up until finally his slick and slightly swollen lips land on hers.
One hand stays on her waist while the other slides under her head.
“You’re so perfect, Rebecca,” he mutters. “Don’t think I’ll ever get used to seein’ you like this.”
She smiles, gently cupping his cheek and pulling him in for another kiss, tongue pressing between his parted lips to find his.
Her jaw drops with a sharp gasp as he glides his cock over her wet slit, his head finding her clit perfectly. He groans, fingers curling tighter in her hair as he slicks himself with her arousal.
She’s thanking god right now that Ted had the brilliant idea for them to get tested two weeks ago.
He rolls his hips into her a few more times, his eyes never leaving hers, and his breathing is already laboured. He looks fucking perfect. Jaw clenched, and his gaze is intense, but there’s so much love seeping through that it lands gently on her.
She hikes her thighs a little higher up his sides, angling her hips up towards him as her hands slide around to his back. He pulls back just enough for the tip of his dick to slip down, barely pressing it against her hole, just enough for a little stretch.
“Okay?” he asks, his thumb gently brushing over her hip.
She nods, swallowing hard. “Yes. Please, Ted.”
He nods, his eyes dropping down between their bodies as his hips press forward.
He slides into her easily, but the stretch is still a little overwhelming, just a little thicker than his fingers had been. But fuck does it ever feel good.
“Fuck, Ted,” she moans, nails digging into his back as he slowly bottoms out.
“Oh god,” he moans, fingers curling tight around her waist, his eyes still locked where they’re now joined. “God, you feel incredible.”
He takes a few slow breaths, flexing his jaw before his gaze meets hers again.
“Feel okay? Doesn’t hurt?” he asks.
“Feels amazing,” she assures him, already a little breathless.
“Yeah,” he smiles, nodding as he leans down to kiss her. “Yeah, it does.”
His mouth stays open against hers, both of them gasping as he pulls back slowly, the head of his cock dragging so perfectly inside her she clenches around him, pulling him back in just before he slips out, and he bottoms out in her again.
He groans again, head dropping into the crook of her neck. His hand leaves her waist, both of them tangled in her hair now as he gives her another perfect thrust.
His breath is hot and heavy in her ear, coming in sharp, rough exhales every time he bottoms out. His pace is slow, but deep and intentional. Dragging himself almost all the way out before sinking back into her until there’s nothing left to give her.
“Take me so well, baby,” he murmurs. “So wet. So tight.”
She moans, arms wrapped tightly around him, one hand gripping his shoulder while the other tangles in his hair, keeping him pulled down against her neck.
“Tell me when you’re ready for more,” he mutters, kissing her just below her ear.
She nods. She’s ready now, but she wants this a little while longer. She wants to memorize what every inch of him feels like inside her, how he takes her so slowly that every thrust stretches her again.
And she likes that he can feel him straining for more, but holds back for her. Can feel him try to grind a little deeper, or when he occasionally thrusts back in a little harder and makes her gasp.
“Sorry,” he whispers.
Rebecca shakes her head. “It’s perfect,” she pants. “Faster.”
He responds to her immediately, rolling his hips into hers more quickly now. It’s still gentle, but there’s no pause at the tops or bottoms of the thrusts, and he doesn’t pull out quite as far with each one.
She tugs his hair, pulling his head out from against her and crashes her lips back into his. It’s messy, sloppy, and his hips stutter for a moment when she tugs at his lip a little harder than usual.
He breaks the kiss, panting with his forehead against hers.
“So good,” she moans. “Harder.”
“Yeah,” he pants, hips snapping against hers.
“Oh fuck.” Her eyes clamp shut, head tipping back against the pillow as he fucks into her.
Her tits start bouncing with the movement, and he quickly grabs one in his hand, squeezing as he keeps up his pace.
His breaths come few and far between, inhaling sharply and moaning on the exhales. Then his mouth finds the sensitive skin of her exposed neck, sucking at her pulse point.
He’s everywhere. Every sense, every nerve, filling her mind with nothing but Ted.
She feels almost silly for thinking it, but she’s really never felt anything like it before.
He’s driving into her, deliberate and steady, and sloppy against her neck, wet kisses landing everywhere he can reach. His hand in her hair slips down to the back of her neck, keeping her in place as his other slides from her breast to her waist to do the same. He knows what she needs more than she does now.
She moans, practically whimpers for him as he presses her into the mattress, his pace never faltering, and the sound of his dick filling her cunt over and over is borderline obscene.
“God, sweetheart, those sounds,” he groans against her neck. “Love how loud you are for me, Rebecca.”
She’s not usually so vocal, and some people have even told her to be quieter. But she can’t help it with him, and he loves it. Doesn’t just love it either, but encourages it, pleads for it sometimes.
Her nails drag across his back, harder than she means, but Ted just groans and fucks her a little harder.
“Ted–,” she whimpers, clenching around him. “M-more.” She’s not even sure what more he can give her, but if anyone knows, it’s Ted.
And he takes no time figuring out what more she needs.
His hand slides under her thigh, pushing it back towards her chest, and his next thrust lands even deeper.
“Fuck!”
“There we go,” he groans, pulling away just far enough that she can see his face.
The vein in his forehead is sticking just a little under the sweaty skin, and his hair falls over his temple. And he looks drunk on her. A little smile spread across his lips, lazy, hungry, and devoted all at once.
His eyes keep flicking between hers and her mouth that’s hanging open, his smirk growing a little wider at each gasp or moan that he pushes out of her.
“That’s it,” he says.
His rhythm smooths out again, hips rolling instead of snapping into her, each thrust flowing into the next. He doesn’t slow at all, or fuck her any gentler, but there’s a constant glide of his cock inside her that drives her wild.
She curses, clenching around him as her breath gets shorter, sharper, and she feels her pleasure coiling deep in her gut.
“You’re gonna come just from this, aren’t you?” It falls off his tongue as praise more than a question.
“Mmhm,” she moans, nodding as she does.
“Just from my dick, sweetheart?”
He knows what it does to her when he talks like that. And even if she were to try to deny it, her cunt tightening around him gives her away immediately.
She chokes through a breath, back bowing off the bed, eyes clamping shut.
“You’ve gotta look at me, sweetheart,” he says. “Wanna see those perfect eyes when you come on my cock.”
She whimpers, and he coaxes her eyes back open with a few gentle kisses to her cheek and jaw. A sharp contrast to the way he’s fucking her right now.
“There we go, just like that. You can keep those pretty eyes open for me, can’t you, Rebecca?”
“Mmhm,” she moans, nodding again.
Her eyelids flutter, and her vision is hazy around the edges, but she keeps them on him. His hand slides from behind her head, cupping her cheek, gently stroking with his thumb. Even now, in the heat of it all, he soothes her as her pleasure overwhelms her. He grounds her as her orgasm builds, a dam on the verge of breaking.
“You feel so good,” he pants. “Takin’ it so perfectly.”
“Ted–” she whimpers, clenching tighter around him.
“That’s it. Come on, Rebecca,” he soothes. “Come for me.”
She only barely manages to keep her eyes open, but her vision blurs completely as her climax rips through her. She tightens like a vice around his cock, and he can barely keep thrusting. She’s not entirely sure what sounds, if any, come out of her as she grasps the sheets, knuckles turning white as her fingers curl tightly in the fabric.
“There we go,” Ted pants, slowing his pace. “So good, Rebecca. Jesus.”
He keeps thrusting into her, but just as slow as he was to start now, easing her down from an all-consuming high as her eyes clear a little.
“So perfect,” he mutters between soft kisses. “So perfect for me.”
He brushes the hair stuck to her forehead away, tucking it back behind her ear as she catches her breath, her mind a complete blank.
“You okay?” he asks softly. “Want me to keep going?”
Rebecca nods quickly, letting go of the sheets to slide her hands over his back again.
Ted leans back down, kissing her softly as he keeps gently sliding into her.
They stay like that a few moments longer, never stopping, but a gentle lull as he lets her fully catch her breath, the kisses light and airy.
Then he slowly pulls out, and she gasps softly and feels painfully empty. He taps her hip, sitting up on his heels.
“Turn over for me, sweetheart.”
He grabs a pillow as she rolls onto her stomach, and he slips it under her hips, propping her up. She turns her head, one cheek against the soft sheets so she can still look back at him. He gently grabs her waist with one hand, smoothing his palm over her spine with the other as he kneels with one leg on either side of her left thigh.
Then he leans over her, slick cock gliding against her ass, trailing kisses up her shoulder and planting one on her cheek.
“Comfy?” he asks quietly.
“Mmhm. Very.”
“Good,” he smiles, kissing her cheek again. “You tell me if that changes, okay.”
Rebecca nods, turning her head a little more to kiss him quickly before he sits back up behind her.
She feels his hand on her ass, spreading her open a little, then the head of his cock against her pussy, and then he’s sinking back into her with a low groan.
~TL~
He’s completely and utterly addicted to her. Everything about her. Every inch of skin, every breath, moan, and word that falls from her lips. And most of all, right now, he’s addicted to the sight of her lying under him, back arched perfectly, and the sight of his cock disappearing into her cunt over and over again.
“Fuck Rebecca,” he grunts.
He’s a little less controlled, running mostly on instinct and what feels good after making her come on his dick a second time – with his fingers on her clit this time – and a short water break.
Now he’s got one hand on her waist, another on her tit, and he’s watching her ass bounce against his hips every time he bottoms out in her.
“Got no idea how good you look right now, Rebecca,” he pants, eyes roaming over her back all the way up to the blissed-out look on her face. “Just incredible.”
“Feel so good, Ted… so deep,” Rebecca moans.
His chest heaves with every breath, and he can feel the sheen of sweat on his back, and he’s getting close. And Rebecca keeps doing–
“Jesus,” his breath hitches as she quickly clenches around him.
She keeps doing that, and she keeps biting her lip with a little smile when she does.
He can feel himself leaking into her, and his cock twitches at every pulse of her pussy. He keeps looking for that perfect spot inside her, the one that makes her gasp every time he glides the head of his cock over it. He just wants to make her feel as good as he can for as long as she can take it.
Ted collapses over her, chest pressed to her back, and his right hand slides up to hers, lacing his fingers between hers and pressing them into the mattress. He plants sloppy, wet kisses to the half of her mouth he can reach, moaning against her as he does. He doesn’t really know what parts of his body are still in his control.
“Just let go, love,” she purrs.
He nods, panting against her neck.
There’s a little misconception in the small-to-modestly-sized pool of women Ted has slept with that seems to lead them to believe that Ted has some crazy stamina or willpower over his orgasms that makes him last – and this really isn’t a brag – longer than lots of men.
The truth is, he just gets so in his own head about making them feel good, that it makes it hard for him sometimes.
And it’s not to say Rebecca doesn’t feel absolutely incredible, because she does, and she looks heavenly, but sometimes he just needs to be told when it’s time for it to be about him. She sees that. She always sees him.
“Let go,” she repeats softly.
He nods again and lets his pace get a little jerkier as she pulls him out of his thoughts. A few little whimpers make their way out of him, and he struggles to keep kissing her.
“There we go,” she coos. “That’s it. Feel so good, my love.”
He moans, gripping her hip and hand a little tighter, thrusting a little deeper.
“I love you,” he pants, eyes locked on hers.
Her lips curl up, and she reaches back, a hand on the back of his thigh to help him keep his pace.
“I love you,” she whispers back.
He gives her a few more wet, sloppy kisses before dropping his forehead against the back of her shoulder, moaning against her skin.
“C-Can I–”
“Yes,” she replies without him even getting the question out. “Please.”
He nods, and his breath keeps getting stuck in his throat. He’s never felt so much pleasure in his life. It really is just that much better with someone who gets him. Sees him. Knows his needs more than he does.
His hips stutter, and she clenches around him again, sending him barreling over the edge.
He moans, rough and desperate as his hips press flush against her ass and he spills inside her. She gasps as he comes, fingers curling into the back of his thigh, keeping him pulled against her as he grinds forward. She pulses around him, milking his orgasm to the very last drop.
He gasps, collapsing fully on top of her, completely boneless, face in the mattress beside her head.
Her hand slips free from his and curls into the hair on the back of his head, tugging him closer to kiss his cheek softly.
“Perfect, my love,” she murmurs. “So perfect.”
He hums in appreciation with a tiny nod, but words are a little beyond his capabilities at the moment.
She gently scratches his scalp, wheedling his eyes shut as he melts into her, his breath slowly settling.
“I love you,” he mumbles.
“I love you,” she whispers, kissing his cheek again.
He lets out a low hum, grinding into her a little deeper. He wishes he could stay like this forever. Perpetually connected. He’ll take just a little while longer. A little more time where he can forget that a world exists beyond her.
“One more minute, then I’ll get you cleaned up,” he says softly.
“Okay, my love,” she smiles. “No rush.”
Ted nods, lazily turning his head just enough to press his lips to hers.
He’s never felt so beautifully and blissfully exhausted.
Ted slowly gets up off her, careful not to pull out too quickly, before stepping off the bed. He holds a hand out to her and helps her up, hands landing on her waist when she stands, and he plants a few quick kisses on her lips before leading her to the bathroom.
He doesn’t take no for an answer as he sits her on the toilet and goes to wait for her at the sink. He wets a washcloth with warm water and rinses his face with cool, patting it dry just as she comes over to him. She washes her hands before he helps her up onto the counter and stands between her thighs.
He starts with the insides of her thighs first, gently rubbing the damp cloth over the stickiness from her sweat and arousal. Mostly the latter.
“Not too sensitive?” he asks before moving any higher.
She shakes her head, smiling softly at him. He knows she’s not entirely used to this yet, but he’s been trying to show her. He never starts anything if he doesn’t have at least a little time to take care of her after, even if it’s just a minute or two of cuddling.
“You look beautiful,” he smiles, leaning in to kiss her.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
He opens her legs just a little wider and cleans her gently, wiping away the little bit of him still leaking out of her.
“There we go,” he says quietly, setting the cloth down before wrapping his arms around her. “Do you wanna shower?”
She shakes her head against the crook of his neck. “Not tonight.”
He smiles and kisses her neck. He doesn’t mind that they’re both sticky, or that the bedroom smells like sex, or that the sheets are messy. They can clean it all in the morning, and he wants to live in it a little longer, too. Bask in the afterglow.
He helps her down off the counter and leads her with his hand in hers back to the bed. They crawl in, lying on their sides face to face as he pulls the sheets up to their shoulders. He rests a hand on her cheek, and she does the same, mirroring each other's soft smiles.
“Ted,” she whispers.
“Mm?” he hums.
“I know it didn’t all go exactly how you planned, but thank you,” she smiles. “For everything.”
“Don’t think I coulda planned somethin’ as nice as tonight anyway,” Ted says softly. “But, I am really gonna make you a nice meal one day, I wasn’t kiddin’.”
“And I wasn’t kidding when I told you I look forward to it.”
He lets out a deep, contented sigh, just staring at her with a little smile spread across his lips.
She scooches a little closer and coaxes him onto his stomach, her fingers gently gliding over where he assumes there are light pink scratch marks across his back between his shoulders.
“Doesn’t hurt, does it?” she asks softly.
“Mm-mm.” He shakes his head against the bed.
“Sure, my love? I didn’t mean to,” she whispers.
“Felt good,” he mumbles. “Still does.”
He can’t actually feel it anymore, but the feeling of the light sting is still fresh in his mind, and it felt more than good. He loves knowing she lost a little control, and even though they’ll probably be faded by morning, he likes knowing the marks are there right now.
“Okay. Good,” she murmurs, leaving a trail of soft kisses across his back before she settles against his side, gently stroking his spine.
He feels a little silly about calling it waiting. It’s not like they waited for marriage or anything; it’s barely been more than a month since their first kiss. But he’s happy they waited until they said out loud that they love each other. And maybe it didn’t make the actual physical part itself any better – though it very well may have – it did, at the very least, make the before and after better, he thinks.
“Glad we waited ‘til now,” he whispers.
“Me too.” She smiles softly and kisses his shoulder.
He savours her. The glow of her hair in the warm light from the lamp on her nightstand. The feel of her lips pressed to his shoulder, the gentle brush of them between another kiss. The softness of her hand as she gently strokes his back.
He savours how well she knows him, how well she loves him. How she knows how to calm him, how to make him smile and laugh. She knows how to touch him, hold him, kiss him. She knows when he’s worried, or tired, or anxious, or overwhelmed. And she knows how to make him feel like it’s okay to feel all those things. And he’s not too much for her.
He knows she wouldn’t accept, but he’d go so far as to call her flawless.
“C’mere,” he mutters, rolling back onto his side.
He opens his arms, pulling her in against his chest, their legs tangling together under the sheets. He cups the back of her head in one hand, tucking her in under his chin. He presses his lips to the top of her head, and then again.
London is starting to feel like home now, because nowhere feels like home until something begins there. They began here.
It’s home because it’s where he shook her hand for the first time, spoke to her the first time. It’s where he ran into her at a pub, and where he kissed her for the first time. It’s where he held her for the first time, and where they had their first date, and their second first date.
Everything to do with her happened here. No part of her exists anywhere else. She didn’t come with him from Kansas like Henry or Beard. She’s just here. In London. At home. In his arms.
“I love you, Rebecca,” he says with another kiss to her hair.
She helped him find a balance. Helped him find more than every other week, and he’s a better father for it. A better friend. And even when he’s alone in his apartment at night, there’s no loneliness to it anymore, and if there is, he can just pick up the phone, and maybe she’ll come over, but maybe they’ll just talk, and either way it’ll be okay.
He’ll still worry all the time, he knows he will, but it won’t be about everything and anything and nothing in particular. It’ll still be about Henry going to college, but for all the reasons any other parent worries about that, and not because he’s terrified of being left alone.
Some nights his ears might even still ring, and he won’t be able to catch his breath, and his fingers will tingle, and Rebecca will know how to settle him, and he won’t be alone, and his chest won’t hurt in the morning.
He’ll keep going to work, and he’ll start to believe what he’s saying again, and he’ll like talking to everyone after, and he’ll get to pass out in her bed when he gets home in the wee hours of the morning.
“I love you, Ted,” she whispers back, tilting her head up to kiss him. Soft. Gentle. Tender. Perfect.
He’ll get to share things now, too. The bench of a booth and the cushions of a couch. The popcorn at the theatre, and a milkshake in a diner. The blankets and his shoulder to lie on. His sweaters, his boxers, too, and his silly little jokes. A laugh, and a story.
He’ll share his mornings and nights. He’ll share his life with her, share hers.
Because she’s here, taking the taste of his lips, the warmth of his skin, and the weight of his arms. And she’s giving the taste of hers, the softness of her touch, and her gentle embrace.
Rebecca has a word for it all. She calls it a resolution.
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Relationship: Ted Lasso x Rebecca Welton
Chapter Rating: Explicit - 18+
Summary: Ted hires one Rebecca Welton as Henry’s new piano teacher.
Chapter length: 8.7k
~TL~
Even when they were still together, Ted had never been to the high school Michelle works at, but he thought this warranted a little more than a text or call. He told her he was coming by at lunch, but he still knocks gently on the open door to her classroom. He hasn’t seen her without Henry being around since just after the divorce.
“Hey,” he says, and she waves him in as she chews a bite of her salad. “Brought you a coffee.”
He sets the cup down on her desk. A sort of peace offering. Not that he thinks this needs a peace offering, but he thought it’d be weird to show up empty-handed. Though now he’s thinking it’s weirder that he brought her coffee.
“Thanks,” she says with a polite smile.
“So, how you been?” Ted asks, a little stilted.
“Ted, you can just get to what you wanted to talk to me about,” Michelle says, amused.
“Right, yeah,” he chuckles. “So… I’ve been seein’ someone, and it’s still new, and I usually wouldn’t be wantin’ to introduce anyone to Henry this early but… well, he already knows her.” He pauses before quickly adding, “He doesn’t know we’re datin’, but he kinda told me I should ask her out, so I think he’s gonna find out pretty soon.”
“Rebecca?” Michelle asks simply.
“How’d–”
“Ted, you sent Henry with cookies for her last week,” she chuckles, and Ted shrugs with a little smile.
“Yeah, sorry ‘bout that. I didn’t mean to get him involved, but he was excited ‘bout tryin’ to be my wingman,” Ted says sheepishly.
“It’s okay,” Michelle says, waving him off. “Henry likes her.”
Ted nods, smiling softly. “And just to be clear, we didn’t start seein’ each other ‘til like a month after Henry started with her. I wasn’t tryin’ to make some complicated thing with people stuck in the middle or–”
“Okay,” Ted nods. “Good. Yeah. I just feel bad ‘cause of him wantin’ to help me ask her out or whatever, and I shoulda told you when it first happened, but I didn’t want to make it awkward for you if it never went anywhere.”
“Don’t feel bad,” she says. “We can’t always set up a perfect schedule for things. Thanks for telling me.”
“Yeah,” Ted nods with a little smile. “‘Course.” A beat. “Well, that’s really all I’ve got, I’ll get outta your hair. Thank you, Michelle.”
“Course, Ted,” she says, nodding as Ted turns to leave. He’s got his hand on the door when she speaks again. “And Ted?” He turns back. “I’m happy for you. She seems lovely.”
“Thank you. She is,” Ted smiles. “Have a good one, Michelle.”
“You too, Ted,” she says with a little nod as he closes the door behind him.
He’s not sure why he thought the whole thing would be more awkward. Maybe he’d just gotten used to the end of their marriage when everything was always becoming such a big deal, and he was always so worried about saying and doing the wrong things that he’d forgotten that, in the end, they still care about each other, and she wants him to be happy as much as he wants her to be.
He also notices that he doesn’t overexplain himself as much with Rebecca. A little, sometimes, but he doesn’t worry about Rebecca thinking the wrong thing when he does or says things. He only needs to be reassured once with her.
“Are you still gonna ask her tonight?!” Henry says, panting from running over to Ted.
“How ‘bout a little ‘hi Dad’ first, kiddo,” Ted chuckles, pulling Henry in with one arm for a hug.
“Sorry,” Henry laughs. “Hi, Dad.”
“That’s better,” Ted says, ruffling his son’s hair as they start making their way down the sidewalk. “Good week, bud?”
Henry nods and happily recounts his week on their way home, and Ted manages to dispel further nagging about Rebecca until they get home.
“Nowww can you tell me if you’re going to ask her?” Henry says, perched in his stool at the counter.
“Yeah, kiddo,” Ted chuckles. “Gonna ask her tonight. But not ‘til after your lesson, so you’ve gotta keep it a secret, okay?” Ted holds one finger up playfully to Henry.
Henry mimes zipping his lips shut with a wonky grin.
“Thank you,” Ted laughs, sliding Henry’s plate of cheese and crackers over to him.
She’d woken up in bed with him this morning, but Ted only just barely manages not to wrap his arms around her the second he’s in the door.
Henry does manage to keep it a secret, though Ted does hear Rebecca ask him multiple times if he’s hiding something, to which Henry must shake his head. Ted never told Rebecca about the plan, but she’s more than clever enough to figure out something is afoot. Henry isn’t exactly a great poker player.
When he comes out, Henry gives Ted a knowing smile as they walk back to the front door, and Ted pulls out his box of biscuits to give to Rebecca.
“Thank you, Ted,” she says with a soft smile.
Henry tugs at Ted’s sleeve, nodding not so subtly towards Rebecca, and Ted gives him a feigned look of confusion.
Henry rolls his eyes and looks back at Rebecca. “My dad has a question for you.”
“Oh,” Rebecca says, raising one beautifully arched brow at Ted. “Does he now?”
Henry nods and looks at Ted with a come on, Dad look on his face.
“I do,” Ted smiles. “I was wonderin’ if you maybe would be interested in comin’ to get some ice cream with me sometime.”
Rebecca smiles at him, and he sees her resisting an eyeroll as well as a kiss, but maybe the latter is just him.
“I’d be quite interested in that, yes,” she says, her cheeks just a tiny bit pink.
Henry lights up into a huge grin. “See Dad! I told you she’d say yes!”
“Sure did, bud,” Ted says, smiling at the excitement on Henry’s face.
“Well, after everything I heard from you last week, how could I not?” Rebecca smiles at Henry, and his grin somehow gets even bigger.
“Whoa!” Ted beams. “Think tonight’s fish n’ chips just turned into celebratory and appreciative.” Ted gives Henry a high five before turning his attention to Rebecca again. “We can iron out all the fun details later.”
“Sounds perfect,” she smiles.
“Kevin and Rachel hugged when he asked her for ice cream,” Henry notes.
“Oh, well, if Kevin and Rachel did it,” Ted says, opening his arms.
Rebecca does roll her eyes this time, but she also closes the distance between her and Ted and wraps her arms around him as he does the same.
“I can rearrange some lessons on Monday,” she whispers just loud enough for Ted to hear.
“I’ll come get you after lunch,” he whispers back, pressing his lips to her neck where he’s certain Henry can’t see.
They slowly let go of each other, fingers catching momentarily, and Henry looks at them with a satisfied smile.
Henry is delighted to tell Mae about Ted’s upcoming date, and she’s thankfully very good at pretending she doesn’t know anything about their already being together.
When they get home in the evening, Ted is bombarded with questions about dating from Henry, whose knowledge apparently doesn’t extend beyond asking girls for ice cream and holding hands at recess, but Ted thankfully manages to ward off questions he’d rather not be answering with Henry thinking about Rebecca and him.
On Saturday, Henry says Ted should get her flowers, which Ted thinks might actually just be an excuse for them to build a LEGO set together, because he drops a lot of hints about it being sad that flowers die and how it’d be nice if he got some that lived forever, and he also left a flyer out on the kitchen table.
On Sunday, they’re building a LEGO set of tulips, and Henry doesn’t seem entirely sold on the idea of now having to give them away, so then they’re back at the mall so Ted can appease Henry with a set of his own, though Henry gets a car. Ted thinks he may be underestimating how good Henry is at getting things from him, but the boy had been his wingman, after all.
On Monday morning, Henry wishes Ted good luck when he drops him off at school, and Ted thanks him for all his help.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Ted smiles. “For you. Henry insisted I get ones that can’t die,” he says, handing her the bouquet.
“Thank you,” she says, grabbing them as Ted steps inside.
“Though, I am also suspectin’ he’s also tryin’ to sus out if you like LEGO or not, so if it ever comes up, the answer is yes,” Ted chuckles.
“Noted,” she smiles, setting the vase down on the front hall table.
Then she pulls him in for a slow kiss. It’s a miracle he survived all weekend without kissing her.
“Ready for our first date?” she teases against his lips.
“Mmhm,” he hums. “Though it’s got some stiff competition with our first first date.”
“We could just stay here,” she muses playfully, nipping at his lip. “It’s a lot like licking ice cream, I imagine,”
Ted chuckles and kisses her a little harder this time. “Just as sweet, too.”
Rebecca smiles and backs him up against the door, kissing along his jaw and down his neck, and he groans, letting her have her way with him for a few moments.
“But I do really wanna take you out,” he says, pulling her lips back up to his for a softer kiss.
“I know,” she smiles, giving him a few light pecks. “Me too.”
They opt for a little shop a short walk away, and meander their way there, chatting lightly as Ted’s thumb brushes over her knuckles where their hands are clasped together.
The little bell jingles on the door as Ted opens it, his hand finding Rebecca’s waist as he ushers her inside the little ice cream parlour.
“You know, Henry told me it’s more romantic if we get one to share,” Ted says with a little wiggle of his brows.
“Do you get all your dating advice from your twelve-year-old son?” Rebecca chuckles.
“No ma’am,” Ted shakes his head, smiling. “Otherwise, you woulda gotten a note in your locker that said ‘Do you like me? Yes/No.’”
Rebecca laughs, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. “Mm. My secret admirer.”
Ted smiles and turns to catch her lips in a kiss. “Not very secret.”
“And thank god for that.”
They sit on a bench overlooking the green, Ted’s arm draped around her shoulder, a bowl of ice cream in Rebecca’s hand with a single little pink spoon. It’s half white chocolate raspberry – Rebecca’s choice – and half chocolate chip cookie dough – Ted’s choice.
Ted watches Rebecca’s lips as she sucks the first bite off the spoon, tongue dragging flat against it.
“You’re doin’ that on purpose,” he mutters.
“What?” She dips the spoon back into the bowl.
“Nobody actually eats ice cream like that,” Ted replies. “That’s just what people do in movies when they’re tryin’ to make sure we know the character is supposed to be sexy. Usually in slow motion.”
Rebecca chuckles and holds the spoon up to Ted’s lips, who takes the bite without looking away from her.
“You’re doing that on purpose,” she smiles.
“Mmhm,” he nods as she slowly pulls the spoon back out. “Least I admit it.”
Rebecca gives him a playful eyeroll and leans in to kiss him before taking another bite. Ted plants a few more kisses on the top of her shoulder, pulling her a little closer as he does.
“Missed you on the weekend,” he mutters. “Don’t like sleepin’ alone when I know you’re so close.”
“I know,” she whispers, kissing the top of his head as she feeds him another spoonful.
They eat in silence for a little while, exchanging bites and occasional pecks, lips a little colder with each one.
“I know he knows now,” Ted says. “But I think it’d be good if we kept us separate for a bit still.”
It’s a little easier knowing that Henry already likes her. On the few dates he’s been on over the last few years, he’s always wished there was a way for Henry to screen them first, so he’d be able to if it was even worthwhile. Knowing Henry likes her just makes it that much easier not to rush anything.
“Okay,” Rebecca smiles, completely unbothered.
“Kinda wanna keep you all to myself for a while longer,” Ted says, kissing the corner of her jaw before another bite comes his way. “And if he gets the chance, he’s gonna start hoggin’ you, and I dunno who I’m gonna be more jealous of when that happens,” he chuckles.
Rebecca laughs softly. “And I don’t want to intrude on any of your time with him, you know that. Whenever you’re ready, Ted.”
Ted nods and smiles. He likes that even with him making jokes about it, she still knows there’s a seriousness to his point. He likes that even if she lets him hide a little, she always seems to know what’s actually going on in his head.
“Was thinkin’ it might be nice for you to meet Beard soon, though,” Ted says. “He’s been skeptical ‘bout if you’re really as great as I keep tellin’ him you are.”
“Okay,” Rebecca chuckles. “Maybe something this weekend?”
“Uh-uh.” Ted shakes his head quickly. “I don’t know exactly what Beard gets up to on weekends, but I’ve learned it’s not somethin’ I wanna be interruptin’ or gettin’ involved with.”
Rebecca gives him a slightly concerned look alongside an amused chuckle.
“We’ll sort somethin’ out, no rush,” Ted adds with a little wave of his hand.
That seems to be their thing. Not rushing. Ted quite likes it.
They slowly make their way through the rest of their dessert before Rebecca tosses the empty bowl into the bin beside the bench.
“Where to next?” Ted asks, squeezing her shoulder.
“Your place is closer,” she replies, and he smiles.
~RW~
Rebecca has never been to his place during a week he has Henry, and it’s actually impressive how quickly the place transforms. She understands the need for a cleaning day on Fridays after Henry leaves. It’d been one thing that first night after the Crown & Anchor, but even that seemed tame next to this.
Pages are strewn everywhere over the kitchen table, some homework, some doodles, and a pencil case looks as though it’s exploded there. Much of the living room floor is covered with various toys, and the TV is on the pause screen of some video game.
“Sorry, gets a little,” Ted says, gesturing vaguely to the messes, “when he’s around.”
“I like it,” she smiles, following Ted down the hall to his bedroom.
She’d always wanted children, but Rupert had hardly even entertained the idea, and when she later found out she couldn’t have any, she’d painfully accepted that it just wasn’t in the cards for her.
Without getting ahead of herself, and not to suggest she’d ever be Henry’s mother, the idea of having a Hot Wheels track and LEGO football stadium on her living room floor is far from unappealing. In retrospect, it also sounds kind of nice to have skipped over the sleepless nights, crying infant stage of it all.
Just in front of her, Ted has quickly stripped down to his boxer briefs and is crawling into his bed, and Rebecca smiles softly at him. The man loves a skin-to-skin cuddle, and Rebecca admits she’s quickly growing rather fond of them too.
She undresses down to her peach panties and joins him in bed, assuming her position as Ted’s little spoon. He lets out a soft, contented sigh as he nuzzles into the back of her neck.
“Missed this the most,” he whispers, giving her butt a little pat before his arm is around her.
“My arse?” she teases.
“Meant cuddlin’.” She feels his lips curl against her skin as his hand slides back to her ass, giving it a little squeeze. “But that too.”
Rebecca chuckles before pulling his arm back around her and pressing a kiss to his knuckles. He wraps his arm tightly around her, pulling her back flush to his warm chest.
“How long until you have to pick up Henry?” Rebecca asks quietly.
“Couple hours,” Ted replies, kissing the back of her shoulder.
Rebecca hums in acknowledgement and shifts back into him until there’s no space at all between the lines of their bodies. Ted groans softly when her ass presses back into the hollow of his hips. He loosens his grip on her, instead smoothing his palm from halfway up her ribs, down the curve of her waist, and halfway down the side of her thigh as he kisses along her shoulders, rolling his hips into her just a bit.
“God, you’re perfect, sweetheart,” he mumbles. “You need somethin’?”
The thing about doing everything with Ted except having sex is that it's really hard to think about anything else a lot of the time. It doesn’t help matters that he likes cuddling mostly or completely naked, nor does it help that his hands always play idly with any part of her they can reach, or that he always gets at least half hard when her ass is against him – understandable, she won’t mention how wet she gets – or how he can so easily ignore his erections just make her come.
She knows he wanted to explore sex together one thing at a time, but she did not know he could come up with quite so many variations of fingers, mouth, and, more recently, vibrator. Last week had to have had at least a five-to-one ratio of her orgasms to his, and worst of all, he seems absolutely thrilled about that.
Oh god, she thinks, am I really complaining that Ted loves making me come too much to just fuck me?
“Ted?” she asks.
“Mm,” he hums against her skin, pressing his lips to the side of her neck.
Fucking hell.
She turns in his arms to face him and gives him the most neutral, least aroused expression she can muster right now, which is hard with his hand on her waist, his bulge against her thigh, and his blank little expectant smile.
“Are we going to fuck soon?’ she asks.
Ted’s face contorts into a half-surprised, half-amused look.
“Yeah,” he smiles, and leans in for a soft, chaste kiss. “Not this second, though,” he says, and they both chuckle. “‘Cause what I’ve got planned needs more than a couple hours.”
Add that to the list of things that don’t help.
“And I’m not complaining, Ted, or rushing,” Rebecca says softly, rubbing his arm as she does.
“I know, sweetheart,” he says with another kiss. “Trust me, I want to. I’m just havin’ so much fun learnin’ all the ways to make you feel good, and the waitin’... I mean, it’s kinda hot, ain’t it?”
“Very.”
Ted gives her a little smirk, fingers flexing on her waist as he leans in for a slow kiss.
“Speakin’ of makin’ you feel good,” he mutters, sliding his hand to her waist as he rolls himself on top of her.
Rebecca smiles against his lips. “Have some more ideas, do you?”
“Mmhm,” he hums. “I’m very creative.”
“So I’ve noticed.”
Ted leans against Rebecca’s sidelight as she unlocks her front door.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Ted says, pressing his lips to her cheek. “Breakfast?”
“Mmhm, please,” she smiles. “Tell Henry I say hello.”
“Will do. Pretty positive you’re gonna be all he wants to talk about tonight,” Ted chuckles.
“Maybe leave out the later bits,” Rebecca teases, pulling Ted in for a slow, lingering kiss.
“Yeah,” Ted's lips curl against hers. “Those are just for me.”
Rebecca kisses him a few more times for good measure. “Thank you for ice cream.”
“You can thank Henry for that.”
“Okay,” Rebecca chuckles. “Tell Henry I’m very grateful he convinced his handsome father to finally ask me out,” she says teasingly.
Ted’s smile widens as he wraps his arms around her in her doorway, nuzzling into her neck with a few light pecks.
“Gotta go.” It sounds like he’s trying to convince himself.
It flatters her beyond words that even when he’s excited to go see his son, he still has a bit of a hard time letting her go when they part ways.
~TL~
Henry’s little mop of brown hair comes barrelling towards him. “How’d it go, how’d it go?!”
Ted grins and grabs his son’s bag, slinging it over his shoulder as they start down the street.
“Pretty darn good, I think, kiddo,” he says.
“Did you hold hands?” Henry asks excitedly.
“Mmhm. Lots of that.”
“And did you share an ice cream?”
“Sure did, bud. Thanks for that tip, worked like a charm,” Ted smiles at Henry’s celebratory little fist pump.
“Do you love her?”
Yes.
“Just a first date, kiddo,” Ted says softly, but then remembers that doesn’t matter to a twelve-year-old. “But yeah, I do.”
“Really?! Did you tell her?!”
Ted chuckles and shakes his head. “Not yet.”
“But you say you should always tell people when you love them,” Henry points out.
Ted nods, “That’s true. But sometimes when you first start datin’ someone, you wanna wait for the perfect time to tell someone you love them. ‘Cause that first time is always extra special.”
“I think any time is a good time,” Henry shrugs.
Maybe he should take all his dating advice from his twelve-year-old son.
————————————
~RW~
Rebecca’s morning is a lot less fun when Ted isn’t in her bed and doesn’t bring her biscuits. But he’s away at a conference today, so she’s left with neither. That’s not true, because he gave her two boxes yesterday, but still, he only kissed her enough for one day's worth.
Over the last month and some odd days since their first date – their actual first date – Rebecca has settled into what feels dangerously fast to be calling a routine with Ted. Only it doesn’t feel dangerous at all when she really thinks about it.
He’s never anything but the most gentle and completely selfless man she’s ever known. And she has fallen completely head over heels in love with him, even if she hasn’t told him yet. He hasn’t either, though she thinks she may have heard it whispered when they were both half asleep last week.
She pulls a long tan coat on over her blouse and jeans, the night a little brisk as the last of the sun sets over the Green on her way down her front steps. Her phone buzzes in her pocket, and she doesn’t have to check to see who it is before she picks up.
“Hi, love,” she says.
She’d called him that for the first time last week, just slipping out as she wished him a lazy good morning when he’d come to take her to breakfast. He’d grinned at her, actually grinned. It was the first time she’d seen him smile like that at anyone but Henry.
“Hey sweetheart, don’t have a lot of time but wanted to say hi.” There’s a light chatter in the background, but Ted’s voice comes through clearly.
“No worries, just on my way to the pub.”
“Gonna miss you tonight. Well, I already miss you, but you know what I mean,” Ted chuckles.
"I do,” she replies softly. “How was the conference?”
“Was nice actually. But I do not know enough ‘bout web development to come up with very good metaphors for ‘em.”
Rebecca laughs, “I’m sure you did great. Headed to the hotel?”
“Mmhm,” he replies. “Got an early flight, so think I’m just ‘bout ready to hit the hay.”
“What time do you get home?”
“Six in the mornin’ or somethin’ icky like that.”
“Come to mine, I’ll be up anyway,” Rebecca offers.
“Mm. You do have a very comfy bed.”
“I’ll let you sleep all day,” she chuckles.
“Sold to the lady in– what’re you wearin’?”
“Green blouse.”
“Sold to the very pretty lady in green.”
Rebecca smiles, “‘Goodnight, Ted. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“G’night, Rebecca. Have fun tonight.”
Rebecca gives her phone a soft mwah before hanging up, opening the door to the Crown & Anchor as she does.
There’s a man sitting next to her seat. Flatcap and tweed jacket with a scruffy beard. He looks harmless enough, so she makes her way over, shrugging off her jacket as she does.
“Is this seat taken?” she asks.
“Usually,” the man replies.
She stares at him blankly for a moment. “So is that a no?”
“It’s free, love,” Mae says, bringing over her cocktail as Rebecca slides into the seat. “No Ted tonight?”
“Working,” she says at the same time as the man.
She turns to him with a raised brow and his furrow. Then his eyes widen as if he recognizes her, so Rebecca’s brows furrow in turn.
“I’ve heard about you,” he says, weirdly mysterious.
Rebecca looks over at Mae, wondering what the fuck is going on.
“This is Beard,” she explains.
“Oh!” Rebecca says, turning back to Beard. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Beard. I’m Rebecca.”
She holds her hand out to him, but he gives her a simple tip of his hat.
He’s quite the conversationalist.
Rebecca looks around as she sips her drink, trying to will Mae back over to her, but she’s busy with a group.
“Ted’s been wanting us to get together. Funny how things work out like this.” Rebecca says, turning back to Beard, a little bubblier than she means to sound. Some strange impress your boyfriend’s best friend alter-ego that just materialized.
“You like him?” Beard asks.
His directness and evident disdain for small talk is sort of relaxing, actually. Though he’s not exactly who she’d imagined being Ted’s best friend.
“Ted?” she says. “Yes. I like him quite a lot.” She smiles softly.
Beard nods in acknowledgement, eyes slightly narrowed at her.
“He says you’re good to him.”
She smiles again. She doesn’t think she could go so far as to say she can read his tone, but it does sound slightly approving to her ear. Regardless, it’s nice hearing from someone other than Ted that he’s been telling people she’s good to him.
“I try to be.”
Beard nods again. “There are very few people on this planet who deserve to be happy more than Ted.”
He isn’t threatening, exactly, but he does make her sit up a little straighter. He’s like Ted’s personal guard dog. She likes it, actually.
“We can definitely agree on that,” she says. “I promise you, you don’t have to warn me about what’ll happen if I hurt him.”
“He’s been happier than I’ve seen him in a long time,” Beard states, and Rebecca’s heart warms.
“Good,” she smiles. “If it has anything to do with me, I promise I’ll do my very best to keep him that way.”
Beard nods with a little hum of approval and turns his attention back to his pint. She has absolutely no idea what to do with him, or say, but she does sort of understand how he and Ted work.
Like those unexpected animal friendship videos Keeley is always sending her. Ted probably benefits from his calm, albeit slightly unsettling for a newcomer, persona. And from what she’s heard from Ted, Beard knows him better than anyone.
Even if the silence with him is maybe a little unnerving, it’s still not awkward. He doesn’t really seem quiet in a shy way, but in a sort of secret agent hiding in a corner way. Maybe he’s a spy.
“Ted never told me what you do,” she says.
“Different things,” he replies.
She’s wishing Ted were here for a lot of reasons right about now. She’d love even a tiny hint of how the interaction is going.
They’re quiet for a few minutes as Beard drains his glass before standing up.
“Can I offer you a piece of advice when it comes to Ted?” he asks.
It surprises Rebecca, but she quickly says, “Please.”
“He’s the kind of man who will give second chances,” Beard says. “But I promise you it’ll feel a lot better if you never let him have to do that.”
His eye contact is intense, but his words are soft relative to what he’s sounded like so far. She wonders what he did to need a second chance from Ted. He holds her gaze as words settle in her, and she knows that, as imperfect as she’ll be in her life, she’s going to do everything she can to never need a second chance from Ted.
She nods and gives Beard a small smile. “Thank you.”
He gives her a single bow of his head, tosses some cash on the counter, and heads out the door without another word as Mae comes back over.
“Is he always like that?” Rebecca asks.
“Oh yeah, lovely lad isn’t he,” Mae replies, smiling at the door.
She thought a mysterious stranger offering sage advice and disappearing was only a thing in books and movies.
It’s not quite seven in the morning when Rebecca hears a knock at her door. She untucks her legs from under her on the couch and slips back into her red fluffy slippers that match her silk pyjama bottoms, a white tank top just barely tucked into them.
Ted’s eyes are a little red from sleeplessness, his hair a little dishevelled, and his backpack is haphazardly slung over one shoulder and threatening to slip down. Rebecca thinks it’s just about the cutest he’s ever looked.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he mumbles, a lazy smile spreading across his lips. “Look pretty.”
“Thank you, love,” she smiles, reaching for his bag and kissing his cheek. “You look tired.”
“Mmhm,” he hums, turning his head to kiss her.
“Come on.”
She grabs his hand and quietly shuts the door behind him before leading him up the stairs.
She’s kept all the blinds in her room closed, and the sheets left open. Ted faceplants unceremoniously into her bed with a hmph, and Rebecca chuckles.
“Can’t sleep in khakis,” she says, patting his hip as she crawls next to him.
“Sure I can,” Ted mumbles.
Rebecca chuckles and kisses his cheek as he relents to letting her roll him over, smiling at her as he does. She starts unbuckling his belt, and his sleepy grin spreads wider.
“My my, you are very forward this mornin’, Miss Welton.”
“You’re ridiculous,” she chuckles, kissing him playfully as she pulls the belt from its loops.
He gives her a cheeky smile and helps her get his pants down before sitting up so she can pull his sweater off.
“I met Beard last night,” she says as he tugs his t-shirt off next.
“You met Beard?” Ted asks, slumping back onto the bed.
Rebecca follows him down, curling up against his side and draping an arm and leg over him.
“At the Crown & Anchor last night, he didn’t tell you?”
Ted thinks for a second before answering. “You know, he did text me a thumbs up, but I didn’t have a clue what that was ‘bout.”
Rebecca chuckles, pulling the sheets up over them before she starts gently rubbing his stomach.
“How’d it go?” he asks.
“I think well,” Rebecca says, though she’s not entirely sure.
She gives him the rundown of the conversation, leaving out Beard’s advice for her.
“He nodded?!” Ted says, smiling, eyes wide with surprise. “And hummed? Heck, you’ve got yourself a friend for life there.”
“What?!” she chuckles. “He said like, three things to me.”
“I’m pretty sure it took me almost a month to get more than two words outta him,” Ted says.
“You’re a bit of an odd pair, you know,” she says playfully.
“Yeah,” Ted smiles. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Rebecca smiles and kisses his cheek. It’s reassuring to know that he’s had Beard all these years, and that he may not have been as alone as he sometimes felt.
Rebecca stays curled up with him until he’s fast asleep, and softly kisses his cheek before slipping out of bed.
Ted appears in her kitchen as she’s finishing lunch, his hair even messier than earlier. His t-shirt rides up, showing off the bottom of his stomach above his khakis as he stretches his arms up with a yawn.
“Mornin’,” he smiles at her.
“Afternoon,” she chuckles, getting up to grab the sandwich she set aside for him in the fridge.
“Ooh, spoilin’ me,” Ted smiles, tapping the counter excitedly as she slides the food across to him.
“Oh yes, worked very hard to pick that up from the shop yesterday,” she says, walking back around the counter to him.
“Well, I appreciate it,” he smiles, hooking an arm around her waist and kissing her shoulder.
She smiles, wrapping her arms around his neck as she leans down to kiss the top of his head.
He doesn’t pull away from her as he eats, keeping his arm around her, his thumb gently stroking her waist. He clearly missed her yesterday as much as she did, and she happily stays by his side, toying with his hair and rubbing his back as they chat about their days.
“You comin’ over tonight?” he asks. “Was thinkin’ just a lazy night. Maybe order somethin’ and watch a movie.”
She smiles and nods as she says, “Course. Sounds lovely.”
“Okay,” he smiles up at her before taking the last bite of his sandwich. “I’ve gotta run some errands. I’ll see you tonight.”
He stands up and kisses her. He was too tired to do it properly earlier, just a lazy press of his lips, but it’s a little more now, and lingers a little longer.
Per Ted’s request, or, hopeful suggestion rather – he doesn’t really request things – Rebecca changes into a sage sweatsuit before she wanders across the Green to his flat.
“Ted?” she calls out, pushing open his door.
“Just in the kitchen,” he calls back.
Rebecca toes her sneakers off by his front door and pads to Ted’s kitchen. He looks just as cozy as she is. Grey sweatpants and a slightly worn, rusty orange sweater. His hair is a little messy, still slightly damp from a shower and lands in little waves over his forehead.
He doesn’t notice her enter the room, setting takeout containers down next to the glasses of wine and whiskey he’s poured as she comes up behind him, wrapping her arms around him and resting her chin on his shoulder.
He winces a little when she slips her slightly cool hands under his shirt and over his stomach.
“Sorry,” she whispers, kissing his cheek. “You’ll just have to warm them up.”
Ted smiles and turns his head to kiss her, gently squeezing her forearm through the fabric of his sweater before he takes the last box out of the container.
“Got the wine out, but I can make some tea if you want,” he says softly, turning in her arms to face her, lighting up when he finally sees her outfit. “Well, hello there.”
“Hi,” she whispers, leaning in to kiss him as his hands settle on her waist. “Wine is perfect.”
“You look beautiful,” he says softly, reaching up to brush her cheek and planting a kiss on her forehead. He still looks tired, but a cozy sleepiness more than weary or drained.
She smiles and gives him an appreciative squeeze and a kiss on the jaw before she lets go.
Rebecca grabs the wine glasses as Ted follows carrying a precariously stacked armful of Indian food, which he sets down on the coffee table as Rebecca curls up on the couch.
Ted turns on the movie, an early 2000s Nancy Meyers flick he’d been personally offended that Rebecca hadn’t seen yet.
They eat shoulder to shoulder, Rebecca’s legs tucked under herself as she leans on him a little, the movie settling over their comfortable silence.
When they’ve both eaten more than their fill, Ted drapes an arm around her, kissing the top of her head. His whiskey glass sits on his thigh, his index finger mindlessly running back and forth over a section of the rim.
Rebecca takes her last sip of wine and leans forward to set her glass on the table, and when she settles back next to him, she hooks an arm behind him and rests her head on his shoulder as her free hand lands on his thigh, just below where the fabric of his sweatpants sits distractingly well.
She’s trying to focus on the movie, she really is, because he’d been excited to show it to her, but his hand has slipped under the neck of her sweater, and his thumb is gently brushing her shoulder, and she looks up at him slightly when he brings his glass to his lips, watching the little movement of his jaw as he drinks. And he doesn’t seem to notice that he’s doing any of it.
He does, however, notice when Rebecca’s hand shifts just a little higher, her thumb and index framing the bulge in his pants. She feels his body tense momentarily and sees his fingers flex on his glass.
“We can finish this another time if you want, sweetheart,” he breathes against the top of her head.
“Mm-mm,” Rebecca hums, shaking her head with a little smile. She tilts her head up, nosing along the underside of his jaw before gently biting the corner with a wet kiss. He groans, eyes falling shut as his fingers dig gently into her shoulder, and her hand slides up the last inch of his thigh, closing around his mostly-soft bulge. “Do you?” she whispers.
He gives her a little shaky smile, a flicker of amusement in his eyes mixed with something softer, before he shakes his head.
“No,” he mutters. “Like this.”
She smiles and gives him a little peck on the cheek. She likes this, too.
She keeps her hand on him as she settles back on his shoulder. It doesn’t really feel sexual, not yet, anyway. Just lazy affection. She brushes her thumb along the seam of his sweatpants the same way he brushes her shoulder.
It’s hot, of course it is, feeling him slowly get hard under her palm, but it’s a soothing, gentle rise. His breathing stays steady, and even the occasional slight roll of his hips up into her hand doesn’t feel like he’s searching for anything but closeness.
It’s sweet, really, which is not a sentiment she ever thought she’d associate with palming someone through their pants. Her ex-husband would’ve chastised her for being a tease by now. She doesn’t think twice about that worry with Ted.
She does it just as absent-mindedly as her other thumb rubs his back, exploring the details of him muffled by soft fabric. She can still feel the shape of him, the ridge of his tip that always draws a slightly sharper exhale from his nose when she lets her thumb brush all the way over it.
When the credits eventually start to roll, Rebecca grabs Ted’s empty glass and sets it on the coffee table. Her hand lands back on his now fully tented pants, and she curls her fingers around the outline of his dick as she leaves a soft trail of kisses along his jaw.
He lets out a low, rumbling sigh from his throat and lets his eyes fall shut, his hand sneaking under the hem of her shirt and stretching out over the small of her back. He’s beautifully lethargic and utterly relaxed despite his arousal.
“Gosh, sweetheart,” he mutters, head tipping back against the couch cushion. “Turnin’ me into a puddle.”
Rebecca chuckles softly against his neck, gently squeezing him.
“You deserve it,” she whispers, kissing just under his ear. She wants to give him the lovely lazy night he asked for.
She’s tried before to get Ted to let her take care of him first, and the one time he did let her, she was promptly rewarded with three orgasms of her own. Tonight, she’s hoping he’s sleepy and blissed out enough for her to get one night where he’s the only one that comes. Not something she ever thought she’d be concerned about.
She watches his expression closely as she starts slowly rubbing her palm up and down his hard bulge. His brows twitch, and his mouth hangs open, an occasional shaky breath falling from his lips. His Adam’s apple occasionally bobs along the exposed column of his throat. His eyes stay closed, which is rare for him. He loves looking at her, watching her, or sometimes watching her hand on him. He’s quieter than usual, nothing more than soft, low, intermittent moans.
He looks perfect.
“Comfy like this, love?” she asks gently, kissing the corner of his parted lips.
“Mmhm,” he hums, nodding slowly with a lazy smile.
As much as she loves hearing him talk, she loves seeing him get so comfortable and relaxed that all she gets are sounds instead of any real words just as much.
“Good,” she smiles, kissing his cheek and then down his neck.
Rebecca stretches out on the couch, lowering herself as she lifts his sweater to plant kisses down his stomach, taking her time across his soft, warm skin. He’s always warm. Even on cool mornings or after they’ve been outside at night, there’s always a bit of warmth radiating off him.
She bites gently just beside his belly button, because she loves the way his stomach tenses when she does. Then she trails lower, down over his waistband until she’s mouthing at the head of his dick through his sweatpants and gently squeezing the base.
He groans, fingers flexing on her back as his thighs tense. She sucks gently at the tip before she kisses down the length of him. Once there’s a lovely wet mark outlining exactly where his cock is, she pulls off him and slowly pulls the bow out of his drawstring.
She’s a little surprised to find him without boxers when she tugs the waistband down and looks up at him with a playfully arched brow. He doesn’t look down, but she can see the little mischievous grin spread across his lips. She had briefly wondered why his cock looked exceptionally good in his sweats tonight.
She chuckles softly and gives his hip a light, teasing nip as she gets his sweatpants down to his thighs.
“Look at you,” she breaths, running her index along the hard line of the underside of his cock, brushing the pad of her finger over the bead of precum at his tip. His dick twitches up, and he moans softly as she spreads it around.
His hand comes up to lay on her shoulder as she rests her head against his tummy, slowly curling her fingers around his base.
She’s quite comfortable, curled up on her side on the couch, free hand up the back of his sweater, using his belly as a pillow as she angles him towards her mouth so she can gently kiss his leaking tip.
“Ah,” he gasps, fingers curling into her shoulder. “Rebecca–”
She starts soothingly brushing her thumb back and forth over the base of his spine, trying to keep him nice and relaxed as she swirls her tongue over his tip, letting out a low hum of approval at the slightly salty taste.
She doesn’t bother taking any more than the head of his cock into her mouth. She wants it nice and easy for both of them. When she’d first given him a blowjob a couple of weeks ago, she’d perhaps underestimated just how big he’d be in her mouth, and her jaw had tired rather quickly. Ted had made her take a break before even letting her finish him off with her hand. And by break, she means he fingered her until her jaw was the last thing she was thinking about.
So she takes it much easier, because she’s quite committed to tasting him tonight. She sucks almost lazily at his tip, her hand gently toying with his balls, squeezing and rolling them in her palm.
His moans are quieter, more relaxed than usual, but they vibrate in his chest right down to his stomach under her ear, and she emits a low hum around him, making him grab her shoulder a little tighter before he eases off.
She never takes him any deeper, and the only word he ever utters is her name, and he feels absolutely divine between her lips and against her hollowed cheeks with every suck.
She’s never seen him get like this, completely willing to just receive for once, to just relax. Usually, he’s checking in on her, or he’s practically begging her to let him touch her, taste her, but tonight? Tonight, he’s just trusting her. Trusting her not to push herself, trusting that she doesn’t want anything but this.
She doesn’t want anything but the taste of him leaking against her swirling tongue, or the stretch of her lips around the smooth head of his cock. Doesn’t want him to be anything but completely relaxed on the couch, head back, soft groans rumbling through him, and heavy breaths.
She’d be quite content staying like this all night, languidly sucking his dick with his fingers combing through her hair. A delightfully hazy reverence hangs in the air between them. She’s never found giving oral to be particularly intimate, but even for all the times he’s had his fingers or tongue inside her, all the times she’s moaned his name as she comes, all the times he’s held her in his arms as they drift to sleep, she’s never felt as close to him as she does right now.
As she draws him closer to the edge, his cock twitches between her lips, fingers curling in her hair, and his breath gets shallower; little puffs of air from his nose and sharp inhales. His stomach tenses under her, and his moans get rougher, almost whimpery at times.
He gasps her name, and she lets out a low, approving hum around him and starts stroking the base of his dick, coaxing him toward the tipping point.
Her name falls from his lips again with a breathless curse as he comes, gentle pulses filling her mouth, warm, and only slightly bitter against her tongue. She moans softly, keeping her lips sealed around him as she swallows, slowing her strokes to a stop when she’s certain he’s done.
She smiles as she licks up what little leaked down before planting happy kisses across his hips as he pants above her, his grip loosening in her hair.
Even his laboured breathing seems more relaxed than usual as she pulls his pants back up, settling on her back with her head on his thighs, looking up at him. His head is still tipped back, and his chest is heaving, but she can see the little satisfied smile painted across his face.
He slides his hand under her sweater, smoothing over her stomach before gently cupping one breast as he comes down from his gentle climax. She smiles sotly, pressing a kiss to the soft fabric over his stomach.
After a few moments, his big brown eyes land adoringly on her, and his smile softens as his free hand comes to comb through her hair. He stays quiet still, leaning down to kiss her forehead. Then the bridge of her nose, then the tip. She stops him with a palm on his chest before he gets to her lips, and he frowns.
“Let me go rinse,” she whispers.
“Absolutely not,” he mutters, pulling her hand away gently and kissing her.
Once Rebecca gets over the initial bit of surprise, she smiles against his lips, parting her lips for his eager tongue as he deepens the kiss. She cups the back of his head; he’s a little sloppy in his hunger. She’s not sure if he likes the taste of himself, or just likes the taste of himself on her, but god, she loves it either way.
He eventually slows to soft, lingering kisses before their lips break apart, and he brushes his nose against hers, moustache tickling her upper lip.
“Thank you,” he whispers, giving her one more peck.
“Mm,” she hums, keeping him pulled down. “Glad I finally got to return the favour.”
He frowns again. “I don’t do it as a favour, or ‘cause I’m expectin’ anythin’, Rebecca. I like it.”
Rebecca smiles softly, and her heart skips a beat at his earnestness.
“I know,” she murmurs. “Sorry, wrong choice of words. Thank you for just… relaxing with me.”
“That’s better,” he smiles, kissing her softly before he sits back up straight, fingers gently scratching at her scalp.
Oh, how she loves him. Loves how he loves her. How he shows her how to love him, and by extension, herself, more gently. He doesn’t let her get away with saying things that could take root and grow into something far less lighthearted, even if it starts as a little joke.
She should tell him. But she wants it to be perfect.
~TL~
Rebecca gave him exactly what he needed tonight. A lazy, cozy night, curled up on the couch with takeout and a movie, and then what he didn’t know he needed.
As he’s certain she’s noticed, he’s not really big on the whole being on the receiving end of such focused attention, and he always ends up way too in his head about whether or not they’re enjoying it.
Rebecca had somehow managed to turn it into the softest, most tender undoing. She eased him into it so slowly, so gently, he couldn’t do anything but melt into her. She made it feel like she was taking care of him. He didn’t think it could be like that.
His bedroom is dark, nothing but a faint glow of streetlights sneaking through the blinds. He props himself up on one elbow in bed, turning onto his side to face her. His palm lies flat on her bare stomach, and she smiles softly at him, one hand twirling idly in the hair at his nape.
She’s so beautiful. Hair fanned out around her face, faint, cool light highlighting the tip of her nose and the apple of her cheek.
They haven’t said anything in a while, hands idly gliding over each other. Sweatshirts and pants traded in for matching boxers.
All he can think about is how he loves her. Loves how she knows him. Loves how patient she is. How she sees him.
He should tell her. But he wants it to be perfect. It needs to be grand and romantic like the movies. Because she deserves grand and romantic. She deserves to be loved loudly.
He flattens himself onto his stomach, arm draped over her, chin on her shoulder, noses almost touching. Her hand comes to his cheek, thumb brushing gently.
“Rebecca?” he whispers.
“Mm?”
“I…” He hesitates a moment, eyes flicking between hers. “I know tomorrow’s supposed to be your unwindin’ night, and you can tell me to take a hike, but I was wonderin’ if you wanted to come for dinner tomorrow?” He can’t wait another whole week. “Like real, ‘I’ll cook for you and wear somethin’ other than a hoodie’ dinner.”
Rebecca smiles softly, brushing the hair off his temple with one delicate finger.
“Yeah, that’d be lovely,” she coos.
“Sure?” Ted asks. “‘Cause I get it if you wanna wait ‘til–”
“Ted,” she interrupts gently. “I’m not waiting a whole week to have you cook me dinner. I can unwind Friday. It’s quite alright.”
“Okay.” Ted gives her a tiny nod. “I don’t wanna wait anymore.”
Rebecca takes her bottom lip gently between her teeth, the corners of her mouth curling up.
“No more waiting,” she mutters, pulling his lips to hers with a finger under his chin.
He kisses her softly, just the tiniest hint of tongue with each one, the little smile on her lips still evident against his.
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Relationship: Ted Lasso x Rebecca Welton
Chapter Rating: Explicit - 18+
Summary: Ted hires one Rebecca Welton as Henry’s new piano teacher.
Chapter length: 9.6k
VI.
~TL~
It’s an unseasonably warm day in London, and Ted had to stop by his apartment to trade in his khaki pants for navy khaki shorts that he’s tucked his white polo into.
Now, he and Rebecca are walking hand in hand down the sidewalk, her yoga bag slung over his shoulder, dusty pink mat sticking out the top.
He’s not used to seeing her in such casual clothes. Her ponytail is high, and dances with her gait, and the elaborate strappings of her black sports bra are still a little visible through her light white jacket. Her high-waisted yoga pants match her mat and also make her butt look really good.
She looks beautiful, and he told her so – or at least a variation – after every article of clothing she added to the ensemble.
“You can come if you want, it’s very beginner-friendly,” Rebecca says.
“I don’t think me doin’ yoga is somethin’ you, or anyone for that matter, should be subjected to seein’,” Ted chuckles.
“Just a little downward dog?” Rebecca teases, affectionately giving his ass a little tap before lacing her fingers back in his.
Ted chuckles and shakes his head, cheeks a shade pinker than before.
“Absolutely not,” he says, smiling at her. “S’all fun and games ‘til I have to stand back up.”
Rebecca laughs and tugs him a little closer to plant a kiss on his shoulder just before they stop in front of a yoga studio with a bright pink neon KJ sign.
“Thanks for walking with me,” Rebecca smiles, leaning in to kiss him.
The kiss is slow and gentle, and it flows into a few more. Ted smiles against her lips as it occurs to him that it’s the first time they’ve kissed in public. Or rather, it occurs to him that she wants to be seen kissing him.
“Oi!” A loud voice pierces through Ted, and Rebecca pulls away with a chuckle.
Standing in front of them is a short, very brightly dressed, very blonde woman.
“Rebecca Welton, I have been trying to get a kiss from you for years, and here you are just handing them out on the street?!” she says, a playful look of betrayal on her face.
“Keeley,” Rebecca chuckles, sliding her hand up to Ted’s shoulder. “This is Ted.”
“Pleasure to meet you,” Ted says, holding his hand out to Keeley. “And don’t worry, I’ve been forewarned ‘bout what’ll happen if I hurt her.”
“Good,” Keeley smiles, seemingly over her betrayal as he gives his hand a firm shake. “Because I may be small, but I am not opposed to violence.”
Ted chuckles before he sees Keeley’s not smiling anymore, and he straightens up, glancing nervously at Rebecca, who gives him an it’s out of my hands look.
Keeley holds his gaze for what feels like an entire minute before she breaks into a huge smile and catches Ted very off guard, undecided of what he should do with his face.
“Oh my god, he’s adorable,” Keeley laughs, Rebecca joining in.
“Isn’t he?” Rebecca smiles adoringly at Ted with a gentle rub of his shoulder.
He decides it’s probably safe to smile again now, though he does so a little hesitantly.
“Alright, see you in there, babes,” Keeley says to Rebecca. “Are you joining?”
Ted shakes his head.
“It’s for our benefit, apparently,” Rebecca chuckles.
Keeley gives a little laugh before she heads for the entrance, greeting a few other people as they arrive at the studio.
Ted slides Rebecca’s bag off his shoulder and hands it to her, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek.
“See you tomorrow,” he whispers. “Unless I’m really needin’ a kiss, in which case I’ll see be seein’ you later.”
Rebecca smiles, squeezing his hand as she says, “You know where to find me.”
Ted spends most of the day running errands, restocking Henry’s snacks, and prepping some of his meals for next week.
He times his grocery store run so he’s passing by Rebecca’s between two of her lessons, an iced coffee in hand for her because she’d been craving one this morning. He’s rewarded with another generous tip for his efforts.
He doesn’t get to come by for dinner because Rebecca has a monthly meeting about the apartments she owns – she’d spent much of the morning grumbling about it – and he doesn’t stay over tonight because Rebecca said her Thursday night unwindings are still something she wants to keep for herself for now.
Ted’s quite alright with that, and had wholeheartedly agreed on the importance of time to themselves.
He sends her an early goodnight text when she gets home from her meeting, and she sends one in return before a little purple Rebecca has notifications silenced appears at the bottom of the thread.
He imagines her playing soft melodies on the piano, or up to her neck in bubbles with a book in hand. He imagines her curled up on the couch, fluffy slippers on, a mug of chamomile warm between her palms. He imagines all the things she told him she likes to do when she’s alone. All the things that make her feel calm.
Ted does his own sort of version of that, which is to say he cracks open a beer, stretches out on his couch, and watches reruns of Friday Night Lights.
On Friday morning, Ted is met with the discovery that if he doesn’t spend an entire week drinking and eating takeout, then he doesn’t have to clean up after a week of drinking and eating takeout, which is good for a lot of reasons.
Instead, he gets to spend a leisurely day baking Rebecca’s biscuits and brownies, setting aside some to be able to drop more off for her on other days this week.
He shows up early to Henry’s school, as though that’ll somehow get him out of class earlier and, in turn, get him to Rebecca’s earlier. It doesn’t.
“What’s the hurry, Dad?” Henry asks.
Ted’s pace down the sidewalk is just a step faster than usual, and the poor kid is stuck somewhere between a speedwalk and a jog before Ted slows down.
“Sorry, bud,” Ted says. “All the sun this week’s just got me all energized.”
Henry seems to find that a satisfying enough answer, and rambles on about his week to Ted on the way home, including an animated retelling of an epic game of dodgeball in gym class that makes Ted laugh, and also makes him have to tug Henry away from the street once or twice.
He gives Henry an extra yogurt drink with his snack when they get home. A novelty usually reserved for special occasions.
“What’s this for?” Henry asks, eyes wide with excitement.
“Dunno,” Ted smiles, shrugging. “Feels like a good week for it.”
“Thanks, Dad!”
“‘Course, kiddo.” Ted smiles, ruffling his son’s hair as he goes to pack up his music bag.
When Henry finishes eating, they make their way across the Green, Ted listening intently to the boy recount another story from this week; some drama surrounding leaf forts at recess that Ted has trouble following the political landscape of.
His lips start to curl up a little before the door is even open.
“Hey, sweet–” Ted stops himself, swirling the word around instead to, “–Sweet to see you again, Rebecca.”
Rebecca holds back a chuckle, though he can see it in her eyes.
“Hi Ted,” she smiles and looks down at Henry. “Henry. Very sweet to see you both.”
Henry seems oblivious to Ted’s almost slip-up, and also seems to enjoy the use of the word “sweet.”
“Sweet to see you too, Rebecca!” he exclaims, hurrying inside her front door.
Rebecca gives Ted a teasing raise of her brows, and Ted tries and fails to bite back a smile.
Henry is already halfway down the hall, and Ted hooks his pinky around Rebecca’s, leaning over to whisper in her ear.
“You look pretty.”
She really does. A greenish-blue blouse with a built-in scarf neckline that hangs down to her thighs, and her black dress pants are as high and tight around the waist as ever.
“Thank you,” she whispers back. “You look very handsome.”
Ted smiles and resists the urge to kiss her quickly, even just on the shoulder.
Their hands drop away from each other’s as Henry turns into the piano room, and when Ted gets to the doorway, he’s briefly plagued by flashes of memories of Rebecca’s dress up around her hips, her thighs around his head, and the taste of her on his tongue.
It thankfully doesn’t last long as Rebecca slides the door shut, lips puckered for an air kiss that leaves Ted smiling like a dork in the hall.
He takes his usual spot on the bench, leaning back against the wall as he listens in on the bits and pieces he can pick up.
There are a few rounds of Claire de Lune, and he hears an exchange of high fives and Rebecca congratulating Henry on it before telling him they can pick a new song to start now.
Then there are a few rough run-throughs of Für Elise, full of playful giggles from Henry and corrections and encouragement from Rebecca.
Then there’s Let it Be. Ted’s heard it a lot since Henry started practicing it two weeks ago, often singing long, but it’s different now. Smoother, and it’s never had her voice before.
Ted’s head tips back against the wall, and he closes his eyes and lets it wash over him.
He decides he needs to hear the unmuffled version, so he stands and gently slides the door open. Rebecca glances back at him and smiles, and he gives an apologetic raise of his hand.
“Sorry,” he whispers. “Just had to get a better listen.”
Henry’s playing stops, and he turns around to look at Ted, smiling widely.
“Doesn’t she have a pretty voice, Dad?” he exclaims.
Ted takes a seat on an ottoman in the corner, elbows on his knees.
He’s never seen Rebecca in her teaching setting before. She’s sitting on a stool next to the piano, back straight as an arrow, one leg crossed elegantly over the other. She’s a picture-perfect definition of grace.
“Come on, Henry,” she says. “Think your dad wants a performance from us.”
Henry nods enthusiastically, repositioning himself, sitting up straighter and laying his fingers on the starting notes.
Rebecca gives him a quiet countdown before he starts, and Ted’s eyes don’t waver from them once.
When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be
And in my hour of darkness she is standing right in front of me
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be
They sing together, Rebecca’s voice a little louder, fuller than Henry's, who sounds so happy to be singing along, it’s somehow better than if he were any good.
Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be
And when the broken-hearted people living in the world agree
There will be an answer, let it be
For though they may be parted, there is still a chance that they will see
There will be an answer, let it be
There are giggles, mostly from Henry, and Rebecca never looks back at Ted, too busy enjoying herself with his son. He likes it better this way, just a fly on the wall as he watches Henry be just as comfortable with Rebecca as he is.
Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be
There will be an answer, let it be
Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be
Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be, be
And when the night is cloudy there is still a light that shines on me
Shinin' until tomorrow, let it be
I wake up to the sound of music, Mother Mary comes to me
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be
And let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be
And let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be
Ted’s eyes are just a little wet as they finish, watching them high-five excitedly and congratulate one another on the piece as Ted gives them a solo standing ovation.
“Heck, that was just, wow,” he smiles at them. “When are y’all goin’ on tour? Gonna need tickets to every date.”
Henry laughs, and Rebecca gives him a warm smile as she stands.
“You’re going to have to find a new song to play, Henry,” she says. “Sounds like you’re getting too good with this one, nothing more for me to teach you.”
Henry rambles off a list of about fifteen songs before deciding he’ll mull it over and have it picked for next week.
Ted leans against the wall at the doorway as Henry packs his things, and runs his fingers through the kid’s hair when he wanders back out into the hall.
Before Rebecca can follow, Ted stops her with an arm around her waist, pulling her in for a quick but deep kiss.
“You’re so incredible, sweetheart,” he mutters.
“Happy we got to show off for you,” she smiles.
“Missed you last night. Hope you had an extra relaxin’ evenin'.” His hands slide to her back, pulling her a little closer.
“It was lovely,” she whispers, giving him another chaste kiss. “I missed you, too.”
“Dad?” Henry calls from down the hall.
Rebecca just about kills Ted with a kiss to his neck, and he clears his throat before answering. “Two seconds, kiddo, just had to give Rebecca her biscuits.”
“Okie dokie.”
Ted hears Henry’s footsteps continue their way to the front door, and he pulls the little box of biscuits from his pockets.
“I’ll come by sometime when he’s at school next week,” Ted whispers.
Rebecca nods, slipping the box from his hand as she leans in for another kiss. She pulls back and wipes the lipstick from the corner of his mouth with the pad of her thumb, letting it drag across more of his lip than necessary.
He manages to let her go, and they both head to the front door.
“Well done as always, Henry,” she smiles as she opens the door.
“Thanks, Rebecca! I’ll see you next week!” Henry replies.
“See you next week.”
Ted brushes his hand around Rebecca’s waist as he walks by her, smiling at her again as he follows Henry out the door.
Mae sets down their drinks on the table, giving Ted a knowing glance. She knows exactly why he’d only been in the once since last Friday.
“Good week, boys?” she asks, mostly to Ted.
“Amazing!” Henry pipes in first.
“Best one in a while, I’d say,” Ted smiles.
Mae winks at him as she leaves, and Ted pretends not to see it as he grabs a sip of his beer.
“Hey, kiddo?” Ted asks.
“Yeah?” Henry says.
“You know that one day, your mom and I might end up bein’ with other people, right?”
Ted knows that Michelle has dated one or two guys since the divorce, but no one ever made it to the introduce to Henry stage of things.
“I know,” Henry says simply. “But that doesn’t change you being my dad and mom being my mom.”
“No,” Ted smiles. “Course it doesn’t. Just wanted to make sure you remember that even if your mom and I end up with other folks, you’re always gonna be our number one priority.”
“I know, Dad,” Henry nods, brushing a milk moustache from his top lip. “Do you have a girlfriend?”
Ted pauses, not entirely sure how to answer that. He should’ve seen it coming, but it catches him by surprise.
“Uh…” he hesitates. “Just been thinkin’ ‘bout maybe havin’ one, yeah.”
It’s not really a lie, because Ted and Rebecca had agreed that they were just “this,” and saying yes right now would lead to a whole lot of follow-ups that Ted would have a hard time answering without revealing everything.
“That’d be cool. She has to like LEGO, though,” Henry says simply.
“Okay,” Ted chuckles. “I’ll keep that in mind. Any other good ideas?”
“You know who’s really nice?”
Ted has an idea, yeah.
“Who’s that, bud?”
“Rebecca. And she’s really pretty, too,” Henry says.
Ted lets out a sharp exhale, smiling as he nods.
“Yeah. She is really nice, and she’s very pretty,” Ted agrees.
“You should ask her to go get ice cream with you. That’s what Kevin did when he liked Rachel.”
“Yeah?” Ted asks, chuckling lightly. “And how’d that go for them?”
“Really good!” Henry smiles. “They hold hands at recess sometimes now.”
“Whoa, that does sound pretty nice,” Ted smiles.
He likes Henry’s middle-school view of romance. Ice cream and hand-holding. He especially likes it because it does actually sound like a pretty great way to spend time with Rebecca.
“You should do it then! I think she’d say yes, she always smiles when I talk about you.”
“Does she now?” Ted’s smile widens.
“Mmhm,” Henry nods. “Next week I could tell her how funny you are, and how you make really good pizzas.”
“I think that’d be very helpful, kiddo, thank you. Everyone needs a good wingman.”
Henry grins, “And then when we go back, you can ask her to get ice cream!”
“Sounds like a plan,” Ted smiles and clinks his glass to Henry’s.
When their fish and chips arrive, Henry gives Ted more romantic advice. Things like “if you bring snacks that come in packs of two, you always have one to share,” and “you have to do things she likes, not just things you like.”
“Is that why you’re playin’ soccer on Tuesdays?” Ted asks playfully.
“No,” Henry says, blushing a deep red.
“Mmm, sure, okay,” Ted says, stealing a fry from Henry. “Sounds like someone else might need to pop the ice cream question is all I’m sayin’.”
“Dad!” He manages to turn even darker red. “She’s the fastest girl in our class, there’s no way she’d say yes.”
“Hey,” Ted says, pointing a finger at Henry. “If you think I’m good enough to be askin’ Rebecca for ice cream, you’re good enough to be askin’ anyone you want.”
Henry thinks about it for a second, pursing his lips. “Maybe.”
“I’ll take that for now,” Ted says, pushing Henry’s basket of fries a little closer to him.
Henry and Ted spend the evening playing Fortnite and watching baseball until they pass out on the couch; something that’s not nearly as nice on Ted’s back as it once was.
He sneaks off to the kitchen, pulling out his phone.
[8:03 AM]
Morning Rebecca 😙
Sorry didn’t text last night
Me and Henry had an accidental sleepover on the couch 😁😴
He doesn’t expect a response yet as he gets to work making breakfast, a very groggy Henry joining him just as the eggs are done frying.
Henry watched Notting Hill last week and is committed to visiting as many of the places from the movie today as they can, and Ted was very on board with that, so they hurry through breakfast as fast as they can and get out the door.
His phone dings just as they’re getting back above ground.
[9:37 AM]
Sounds like a perfect night 😊
Have a good weekend, Ted xx
You too 😙
“Alright, kiddo, where are we thinkin’ first?” he asks, hand on Henry’s shoulders as they look around the street.
Ted curls into bed, and the phone rings twice before she picks up.
“Hi, Ted,” she says softly.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he whispers.
“Henry asleep?” she asks.
“Yeah. And I’m close behind, just wanted to hear your voice today.”
“Fine by me.” He can hear her smile. “Good day?”
“Very. Wandered ‘round Nottin’ Hill, then stopped by Kensington Palace on the way home.”
“How was it?”
“Loved Nottin’ Hill, but I think he was disappointed by the lack of turrets at Kensington.” Rebecca chuckles softly on the other end of the line. “Lead us to a very lengthy discussion about the differences between castles and palaces,” Ted adds.
“And?”
“We came to the conclusion that castles are way cooler,” Ted chuckles.
He debates telling her about his conversation with Henry last night, but decides he’d much rather keep it all under wraps, keeping the young innocence of it alive in the spirit of a not-so-secret crush. And he doesn’t want to spoil the surprise of wingman Henry that he’s certain Rebecca will enjoy.
“You have a good day?” he asks.
“Mmhm,” she hums. “Keeley came over for a while, just left actually. She thinks you’re a sweetheart, by the way.”
“Yeah?” Ted smiles. “She got that in a minute?”
“Think it took me less time,” Rebecca says softly. “And I may have told her stories.”
“Tales of my charmin’ exploits?”
“Something like that,” she chuckles.
“Well, I’ll have to make sure to keep workin’ on ‘em then.”
On Sunday, Ted and Henry venture to LEGOLand for a delightfully exhausting day that leaves them both out cold by nine.
The weather cools again by Monday morning, and Ted tucks himself into a navy puffer over his sweater to walk Henry to school, fidgeting with the little pink box in his pocket.
Rebecca looks cozy when she opens the door, a deep emerald-green pyjama set with white trim that’s just about the softest thing he’s ever felt as he slides his hands around her.
“Hi,” she whispers with a smile, shutting her door behind him as her arms wrap around his neck.
“Hey,” he mutters, trailing kisses up the column of her neck to her lips. “Not interruptin’ anythin’ am I?”
“Mm-mm,” she hums against his lips. “Just having tea.”
“Brought these.” Ted keeps kissing her as he slips the box from his pocket.
“On a Monday?” Rebecca asks playfully, kissing his cheek down to his jaw before pulling back enough to grab the box.
“Mmhm.” He noses along the underside of her jaw before kissing just below her ear.
He’s never been quite as infatuated with touching and kissing someone as he is with her. He’s completely incapable of keeping his hands off her. Thankfully, she seems just as obsessed with him.
He keeps his hands on her waist as she turns to head back into the kitchen, kissing the back of her neck as she sits down at the counter.
“Smell so good,” he mutters, nipping at her earlobe.
She chuckles softly, leaning back against him as she takes a bite of her tea-soaked biscuit. He slides his hands around to her stomach, one thumb stretched up between her breasts as he keeps kissing her neck, drawing beautiful little breaths from her lips.
“Good weekend, sweetheart?” he whispers, making his way around to the other side of her neck.
“Mmhm,” Rebecca sighs, tilting her head to give Ted better access as she sips her tea.
He warms up quickly, letting go of her only to shrug the puffer of his shoulders before his arms are around her again, hands sliding down to her thighs as his chest presses flush to her back.
“Thought about you last night,” Ted murmurs against the skin of her neck, her pulse dancing just below the surface where he bites gently. “‘Bout how beautiful you are. How much I love havin’ my hands on you.”
She lets out a needy sigh as he slides one hand higher, ghosting between her thighs before climbing up, staying above the soft fabric as he squeezes her breast.
She slides her empty mug and half-eaten biscuits away as her head falls back against Ted’s shoulder, his name breathless on her lips as he nips her jaw.
“Got a real good trick for wakin’ up if you want,” he whispers, the hand on her thigh spreading her open an inch, then another.
~RW~
Rebecca is beautifully trapped somewhere between the slow waking of a Monday morning and the arousal pulsing through her entire body right now.
His lips have run out of skin to find on her neck, and her body is humming with electricity as his hands glide over her without ever making it below the fabric of her pyjamas.
“How’s that sound, sweetheart?” he whispers in her ear, squeezing her tit and thigh with equal, perfect pressure.
“Good,” she breaths, holding his head against her with fingers tangled in his hair.
“Yeah?” he smiles, gently tugging at her earlobe with his teeth.
“Yes. Please.”
“Okay,” he whispers, kissing the corner of her jaw. “You’ve just gotta stay relaxed for me then, Rebecca. Lemme take care of you.”
Rebecca nods, biting her lip as his hand climbs up her thigh, the fabric of her pants doing nothing to lessen the feel of his fingertips ghosting over her clit.
Her thighs tense and close, body arching back against him as she feels his lips curl against her neck, the slow swipe of his tongue, and the feel of his mouth closing over her skin in a wet kiss.
“That’s not very relaxed,” he whispers, running his hand back down her thigh, away from where she wants it, and drawing a tiny whine from her lips.
He lifts her up off the stool, nudging it aside before he’s pressed fully against her. The hand on her breast slides up to her jaw, keeping her pulled back against him as his feet land between hers, sliding them apart so her legs can’t shut when the heel of his palm presses over her clit.
“There we go, that’s easier now, isn’t it?” he whispers between kisses below her ear.
She moans as he grabs her cunt, still not giving her the satisfaction of dipping below the fabric.
“Ted,” she pleads, making his breath hitch when she presses her ass back against his bulge.
“Easy there, sweetheart,” he says, nipping her neck just a little harder. “It’s Monday, gotta wake up slowly.”
Her fingers curl tighter into his hair, her other hand reaching for the edge of the counter even though he’s pretty much holding her up as his fingers start tracing circles over her clit, too lightly for her to do anything but whine.
“Bet it’d feel better if I was touchin’ you properly, wouldn’t it?” Ted teases.
He’s infuriatingly hot right now.
“Mmhm,” she nods, swallowing hard as his hand creeps up towards her waistband.
“I think I can help with that.”
His hand finally slips below her pyjamas, and the first press of his finger to her clit just about buckles her knees.
Her next breath comes sharper, a little moan escaping at the first slow circle he traces.
“There we go, that’s better, isn’t it?” Ted murmurs.
He keeps his hand on her jaw, tilting her head towards his to catch her lips in a heated kiss as he keeps slowly rubbing her clit.
He nips at her bottom lip when she moans and struggles to kiss him back, smiling as his lips trail back to the corner of her jaw.
She gasps when his hand slides back up her body, but before she can complain, he’s coaxing her mouth open with two fingers and slipping them between her lips.
She groans around them, sucking them deeper as she watches his awestruck expression, a sloppy smile spreading across his lips.
She sucks him in past the first knuckle, and then the second, twirling her tongue around them. His breathing shallows as he watches her, but he doesn’t look quite as hungry as she’d expect from him right now, and not in a bad way. In a very, very good way.
He looks utterly devoted to her pleasure, the tunnel vision evident in his wide pupils and the twitch of his lips when she moans around his thick digits. She’s not sure she could ever get used to how much he gets off on making her feel good.
“Little more,” he whispers, pressing his fingers a hair deeper. “Make sure it’ll be nice and easy.”
It’d already be nice and easy for him.
Her eyelids flutter at the feeling of his fingers fully seated in her mouth, just shy of touching her throat.
He slowly pulls his fingers back out, kissing the string of spit off her lips as he slides his hand back into her pants.
He pulls back just enough for her to see his eyes as his two fingers glide between her wet lips, a smile spreading across his face when he feels just how ready she is.
It’s quiet and their breathing syncs, slower, steadier as his slips two fingertips inside her, Rebecca’s jaw dropping at the stretch.
Ted’s eyes go hazy too, and he doesn’t say anything as he sinks them deeper, slowlyyyy making his way to the last knuckle, palm pressed against her clit.
It’s overwhelming, even with just fingers, to finally have Ted inside her. He lets her settle, lets her relax, and his eyes flick between hers at the first curl of his fingers, eyes widening when her breath catches.
“So wet, baby,” he whispers. Rebecca smiles at the softness of his words despite the content, the gentleness with which he calls her baby.
She just nods, eyebrows flicking up with a sharp gasp as he curls his fingers again.
There’s no teasing edge left to him, just a gentle undoing. A slow curl of his fingers with every pump of his hand, and his thumb finds her clit.
His eyes never leave hers once, and he keeps her steady on her feet, responding to every signal she sends him as if she’s conducting an orchestra of one.
He whispers soft praises, letting her know how good she looks, how good she feels, and she talks her through it when her eyes clamp shut and she tightens around his fingers. A slow build that crescendoes like a wave washing over her with shaking legs and choked breaths.
Before she’s even quite processed it, Ted is dropping to his knees, pulling her waistband down, and burying his face in her pussy.
He’s careful not to overstimulate her, a hand on each ass cheek to keep her spread, lapping at her until nothing is wasted. She loves how obsessed he is with tasting her for the sake of tasting. Like this is just the most logical way of cleaning her up.
He plants sloppy, wet kisses over her curves as he stands, pulling her pants back up with him.
He turns her to face him, kissing her hard, pressing her back against the counter and letting her taste herself on his tongue until they’re both panting and breathless and he’s burying his face in the crook of her neck.
“Feelin’ awake now?” he whispers playfully.
She feels very awake now, and lighter, too. Much better than just a little caffeine boost.
Rebecca unburies him from her neck, running her fingers through his hair and smiling before pulling him in for a soft kiss.
“Mmhm,” she hums. “Come watch me get ready?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he smiles and nods, lacing his fingers in hers.
She leads him upstairs, backing him against the bed until he sits and she stands between his legs.
He starts slowly unbuttoning her shirt right away, his eyes following his hands as they make their way down until her top slips off her shoulders and falls to the ground.
Ted takes a moment to kiss his way up her stomach and suck each nipple into a peak, drawing a breathy chuckle from Rebecca.
“Can’t help it,” he mumbles against the skin between her breasts, smiling against her.
Ted helps her get changed, tucking her blouse into her skirt that he zips up, kissing her shoulders as he does. He sits on the edge of her bath as he watches her style her hair and mascara her lashes.
Then she walks him downstairs, kisses him goodbye, and he wanders home.
He calls her briefly at night, voice tired on the other end of the line, already half asleep by the time he whispers “goodnight” to her.
On Tuesday, she’s politely instructed not to have breakfast, and he shows up with biscuits again and walks her to the cafe around the corner. Then he brings her back home, and they share a quick snog – which he tells her is a funny word – in the foyer before he’s on his way again.
On Wednesday, he brings her lunch again, another sandwich, but accompanied by a chicken noodle soup today, and a little box of biscuits that Rebecca is starting to grow rather attached to.
On Thursday, he comes by as she’s having tea, bends her over the armrest of her couch, and eats her out until she’s wide awake and trembling. And this time, he doesn’t just bring one little pink box, but two. The second holds a bath bomb for her to use as she unwinds that evening. It smells like lavender, and he tells her it’s supposed to be relaxing, and it very much is.
On Friday, he doesn’t make it by during the day – something about cleaning – and Henry pulls a pink box out of his backpack when he shows up on her doorstep that afternoon.
“I heard a lot about you today,” Rebecca smiles as Ted opens the door to his flat.
“Good things, I hope,” Ted says, planting a kiss on her cheek.
“Very good. Heard lots about how funny you are and what amazing pizzas you make,” she chuckles, wrapping her arms around him.
“Mm. Whatever he told you, s’all true.” Ted smiles against her neck, brushing her moustache against her sensitive skin before his lips find hers.
“He seems to be trying very hard to make me like you,” she whispers between airy kisses.
“Is it workin’?” Ted teases.
“Mmhm,” she hums against his lips. “Though I’ll have to judge those pizzas myself someday.”
“How ‘bout tomorrow?” he asks. “Just come over whenever your lessons are done.”
“I think I can manage that,” she smiles, kissing him once more. “Want to go grab a drink?”
“Thought you’d never ask.”
There’s a pint and a gin and tonic sitting side by side, waiting for them at the end of the bar.
Ted slips Rebecca’s jacket off her shoulders, draping it over the back of her stool as she slides in, and his hand stays on the small of her back as he takes his own seat.
“How’d you know?” Ted chuckles as Mae comes to greet them.
“I may be getting old, but my eyes haven’t conked out on me yet,” she replies.
Ted and Rebecca both laugh, and she reaches over to rest her hand on his thigh under the bar. He glances over as she does, eyes dipping to her lips for a second before he looks back at Mae.
“Knew something was up after the first time he met you,” Mae adds. “Had that look in his eye.”
Ted looks over at Rebecca again, cheeks pinking as she rubs his leg.
“Yeah, that’s the one,” Mae says. “And then you’re showing up not a month later.” She nods to Rebecca. “Which is even faster than I thought he’d manage.”
“Hey!” Ted protests.
“Meant that as a compliment, love, most people wouldn’t’ve managed at all,” Mae explains, and Rebecca rolls her eyes.
“I told you I didn’t do it for him,” Rebecca argues lightly.
“Never said ‘for’ darling, just a little because of him,” Mae clarifies.
Rebecca can’t argue with that, and Ted gives her waist a gentle squeeze.
“I do have a rule, though,” Mae says.
Rebecca nods as Ted raises his brows, lifting his pint to his lips.
“No shagging in my toilets.”
Ted just about chokes, beer dribbling down his chin as he turns scarlet.
“Mae!” Rebecca turns a little pink, too. She wasn’t thinking about it before, but she definitely is now.
Mae just smiles at them, Ted coughing beside Rebecca as he wipes his mouth with a napkin.
“Never gets old, that one,” Mae chuckles to herself.
They spend hours at the pub, Mae telling Ted story after story about Rebecca as a teenager, Ted’s chin in his palm, elbow on the counter as he listens to each one. She pretends to be annoyed by it all, but she doesn’t try very hard to stop it from happening. Especially not since Ted’s hand has crept down to the swell of her ass and his pinky has dipped under her waistband.
She feels similar to the way she felt in the story Mae is currently telling about the first time Rebecca got drunk here. Light, airy, a little sluggish.
~TL~
When Ted sees her order her fourth, he switches to water and tries to sneak her some, too. He’s not trying to police her by any means, and he actually likes that he trusts him enough to let go like this with him around, but he also imagines that teaching piano tomorrow probably wouldn’t feel great with a headache.
Besides, she took care of him when he was drunk the first time they met here.
When she comes back to him after her fifth round of karaoke – each of which has earned a standing ovation from him – her arm is heavier around his shoulders, and her lips sloppier against his jaw.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he smiles, kissing her cheek as he hooks an arm around her waist. “You just ‘bout ready to get home?”
She nods lazily, nipping at his neck.
“Can we go to yours?” Her words are a little slurred.
“We can go wherever you want,” he whispers, grabbing her coat off the back of her stool.
“Shame we can’t fuck in the toilets,” she mutters, and Ted chuckles lightly.
“Won’t be doin’ that anywhere tonight anyway, sweetheart,” Ted whispers, leading her to the door.
He keeps his arm securely around her waist as they walk down the street.
“And you have such a nice cock,” she says.
“Shh, sweetheart,” Ted's cheeks pink a little, and he looks around to see if anyone heard.
Rebecca quiets after that, but he doesn’t think much of it until he’s setting her on his couch and her eyes are a little wet.
“Hey,” he says, kneeling in front of her, eyes wide with worry. “You okay, Rebecca? Somethin’ wrong? Feelin’ sick?”
“Fine,” she says, as quiet as he’s ever heard her, and her eyes won’t meet his.
“Rebecca,” he says softly, desperately searching her face for a hint.
She doesn’t say anything more, jaw tight, and she blinks hard to keep tears back.
“Rebecca, sweetheart, I can see somethin’s wrong,” Ted whispers. “I just wanna help.”
“I said I’m fine,” she says shortly, and a lump forms in his throat.
“Okay,” he says, brows furrowed. “I’m gonna get you some water and a snack, is that okay?”
“Do what you want.”
Ted swallows hard and decides against reaching up to cup her cheek. Instead, he stands slowly, glancing back at her once, twice as he makes his way into the kitchen. He pours a glass of water and grabs a few different snacks from his cupboards and fridge, and goes back over to her.
She wipes a tear she thinks he doesn’t see from her cheek, mascara a little smeared under her eyes as she straightens up. She looks stern, defensive almost, and it twists Ted’s stomach into knots.
He sets the snacks and water on the table and sits next to her on the couch, a painful distance between them.
“Rebecca, please, we don’t have to talk ‘bout anythin’ you don’t want, but can you– can you just tell me if it’s somethin’ I did,” he asks cautiously.
She doesn’t say anything, just reaches for the glass of water and takes a healthy swig, which does make Ted feel a tiny bit better.
He sits quietly, anxiously, fingers drumming on his thighs as she picks away at the nuts and chips and makes her way through the glass of water. He counts his breaths, keeping himself as steady as he can. When she finishes the glass, he wordlessly fetches her another.
The silence stretches far longer than Ted hopes for before she finally speaks again. She’s not sober by any means yet, but she’s steadier at least. Her first words catch him completely off guard.
“I embarrassed you.” Her tone is cool and distant.
He’s not sure if it’s meant as an accusation or just a statement. He’s not sure which feels worse.
“What?” is all he manages.
She turns her head to him, and her eyes are unlike anything he’s seen on her before. Not as steely as the rest of her defensive state, clearly fighting back whatever hurt she’s trying to keep at bay.
“I got sloppy and embarrassed you. It’s why you wanted to take me home.”
“Rebecca…” his voice trails off, completely unsure of what to say.
He hesitantly shifts closer to her, and the clench of her jaw hits him square in the chest, so he doesn’t move any closer.
“Darlin’ I–”
“Don’t call me that.”
Ted’s face does about ten different things as he tries to sort out what on earth is happening between them right now.
“I’m sorry,” he says, breathing a little shallower. “Rebecca, I wasn’t embarrassed. Not even a little bit. I just thought you might want to go home– I’m sorry if I–”
“You told me to be quiet.” She hasn’t wavered, not even a little.
“What?” he asks before he remembers. “No! Rebecca– Rebecca, I wasn’t embarrassed by what you said. I just– I didn’t think it’d be somethin’ you wanted people hearin’, I’m sorry.”
Rebecca studies him, still far too tense for Ted’s liking.
“Can you just save us both a lot of pain and tell me now if you don’t like me drawing attention to myself?” she says simply. “Don’t like that I spoke too loudly or that my tits are out?”
Ted’s heart just about breaks.
“Rebecca, I– I love all those things. Got my attention most of all, and you know how much I love your voice, and how beautiful I think you are, don’t you?” he replies quickly. “I loved seein’ you havin’ fun. Seein’ you trust me to let go like that. I just wanted to make sure you stayed safe. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I was tryin’ to hide you, Rebecca. Never wanna hide you, never wanna hide that I’m there with you.”
Ted can feel the familiar and unwelcome ache in his chest, but he manages to keep his breath settled. He can’t afford to show that he’s hurting right now, because he knows she’s not meaning to.
Her jaw stays tight, but her eyes warm a little as she searches his face in silence.
“I think there’s maybe somethin’ we need to talk about here, Rebecca, but am I wrong in thinkin’ you might want a minute for your head to clear up a lil’ more?” Ted asks softly. “And it doesn’t have to be tonight. I can take you home if you want, or if you want a shower or somethin’ here, I can make us some food?”
Rebecca nods slowly. “I’ll shower.”
Ted’s shoulders relax a little at that. He really didn’t want to take her home and have to leave her alone tonight.
“Okay,” he nods. “I’ll go get it runnin’ for you.”
He doesn’t kiss her cheek or forehead, but he can’t resist reaching over to give her hand a light squeeze, and he relaxes a little more when she doesn’t pull away.
He sets the shower a little cooler than usual, thinking it might help sober her up a little more, and he lays out a set of baggy boxers and pyjama pants for her to choose from on his bed, along with a t-shirt and hoodie.
He quickly changes into sweatpants and a t-shirt himself before he heads back out to the living room, relieved to see Rebecca has finished the second glass of water.
He gently rests a hand on her shoulder, brows furrowing again at the tension in it, but he keeps his voice soft and steady.
“It’s ready whenever you are, Rebecca. You just come back out here whenever you want. I’ll make some food. And if you just wanna stay in my room all night, that’s alright, too. I’ll be out here, okay?”
Rebecca nods, still just a little too distant for Ted to settle any more, as she heads wordlessly to his room, shutting the door behind her. He knows deep down that it’s mostly just the alcohol, but he also knows that it’s not all just coming from nowhere. He wishes he’d asked more about her marriage earlier, because he has a feeling this has to do with it.
He stares at the door for a moment, hoping she might open it back up and tell him to join her, but she doesn’t.
He putters in the kitchen, just making simple grilled cheeses if she wants to eat and topping up her water glass. Then he makes his way back to the couch. He tries not to be anxious as he waits, but he is. His fingers drum the couch cushions, and he glances down the hall what feels like every two seconds.
Eventually, he hears the water shut off, and then nothing for a while. He wonders if she simply curled up in his bed and passed out. It wouldn’t be the worst thing, as long as she’s safe.
What feels like another eternity passes before he hears the click of the door opening and the soft creaks of the hardwood as she walks to the living room.
The neckline of his grey hoodie is wet from her hair, and the hem falls just above the bottom of his baggy boxers, but he can’t fully appreciate just how perfect she looks in his clothes. She looks more relaxed, at least, but there’s still a sadness in her eyes that keeps him worried as she stands there looking at him.
“He used to take me, or just send me, home when I embarrassed him,” she says.
She sounds clearer now, steadier, and a little warmer again, which he all takes as a good sign.
Ted pats the cushion of the couch hopefully, and she hesitates only a second before she sits next to him, not quite close enough to touch, but closer than before. He sets his hand between them, a welcome invitation for her to take when she’s ready.
She doesn’t look at him as she speaks, staring mostly at the coffee table.
“If I drank too much, or spoke too loudly, or wore the wrong thing, said the wrong thing… I don’t know, there were a hundred different reasons for it, but it always ended the same,” she explains. “He’d always say, ‘Darling,’ and he always used that name, and it never sounds nice when he uses it.”
Ted listens intently, his eyes locked on hers even though she’s not looking at him as he takes it in. He knows he’d never used that pet name before, but he’d heard Mae use it, so he thought it’d be okay. It must sound different coming from her than from a partner.
“He’d say ‘darling, I think that’s enough’ or some variation,” Rebecca continues. “And then he’d look at his friends or whoever we’re with, and give them this appalling smile that was some sort of apology for my behaviour. And then he’d take me to the car, or to some other part of the house, and always with a hand on my back like a forced march.”
“I’m so sorry, Rebecca,” Ted says quietly.
She nods and offers him a short, slightly pained smile, but she does finally lace her fingers in his before she keeps talking, her eyes flicking to his occasionally now.
“I don’t know if it was worse when he came home or when he just sent me on my own. Because I’d either wind up with my tail between my legs like a guilty, scared fucking puppy when he got home, or I’d spend a drive being spoken to like a child in detention.”
She pauses, closing her eyes with a deep breath.
“He never yelled,” she says. “He never yelled, and he never hit me. And I think that’s why it took me so long to understand how fucking awful he was– is. He always knew how to say things… how to be charming in a way that made it just… so hard to explain to anyone, or even realize how cruel he is.”
Ted reaches up to wipe a tear from her cheek with the pad of his thumb, shifting closer to her and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. He lets out a quiet breath of relief when she leans into him, resting her head against his shoulder.
“I’m so sorry you had to go through that, Rebecca,” he whispers, kissing the top of her head. “But you got yourself out, and I’m so proud of you.”
Rebecca nods, turning until her face is pressed to Ted’s chest, and his fingers comb through her hair as he holds her there, both of them taking long, deep breaths.
“I know you’d never do that,” she whispers. “I’m sorry I–”
“Hey, no,” Ted interrupts gently, tilting her head up to look at him. “No apologizing for this, okay? None of this is your fault. Just somethin’ you carry with you, and sometimes it might come out, and now I know.”
Rebecca’s eyes are wet again, but it’s a softer sadness than earlier, lips twitching almost to a smile.
“I was accusing you of things I know you weren’t doing,” she says softly.
“You weren’t accusin’ me of anythin’, sweetheart,” Ted says, gently brushing her hair back. “You were just tryin’ to protect yourself, and your mind was maybe a little fuzzy. And that’s okay. S’long as you know somewhere in that beautiful brain of yours that I’m just tryin’ to keep you safe.”
Rebecca nods, blinking a tear away as her lips curl up a little more steadily.
“I know.” She leans in and kisses Ted softly, cupping his cheek. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” he whispers, kissing her again. “Just glad you’re alright. Glad we’re alright.”
The next kiss lingers a little longer, and her fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt at his chest.
“You’re so patient with me,” she whispers.
“Easiest thing in the world to be patient for, baby,” he smiles against her lips. “Besides, the first time we met there, you had to chase me down after I ran off with a panic attack, and then you stayed with me all night ‘til I was okay again. So I’m gonna do the same thing.”
“Thank you, Ted.”
“Anythin’ you need,” he says, brushing his thumb over her cheek. “And I’m sorry for not askin’ you ‘bout any of that stuff earlier. You’re always knowin’ what to say ‘cause of what I told you ‘bout Michelle, and I should’ve known what to say to you.”
Rebecca shakes her head, kissing him again. “It probably would’ve happened anyway, Ted. It wasn’t your fault as much as it wasn’t mine. And you did all the right things. Thank you.”
Ted nods, pulling her in for a big hug, arms wrapped tightly around her as he presses his lips to the top of her head.
Each breath they take settles Ted more and more until the weight of it all lifts off his shoulders, and he’s just holding her for the sake of holding her.
“Want any of that food, sweetheart?” he asks quietly. “Might be a lil’ cold, but could be good for that pretty tummy.”
Rebecca smiles and nods, pulling away from him with one last kiss.
The almost-room-temperature grilled cheeses are decidedly not great, but they laugh about it and eat them anyway, shoulder to shoulder on the couch and sharing a glass of water.
“Wanna go get ready for bed?” Ted asks, stacking the plates and remaining snacks on the table. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
Rebecca nods and pulls him in for a kiss before she heads back to his bedroom.
Ted heads to the kitchen, putting all the food back in their places and quickly doing the dishes.
Rebecca is just finishing brushing her teeth when he gets to his bathroom, and he plants a kiss on her cheek, hand sliding around her waist as they trade places.
When he steps back into the bedroom, Rebecca is in nothing but his baggy boxers in bed, sheets open for him. He’s never seen anything as beautiful as she looks right now, every inch of her skin calling out to him.
He feels a familiar flutter in his chest. A welcome feeling. One he hasn’t felt in years. He’ll keep it to himself for now. He doesn’t want her to think he’s saying it just to comfort her. There’s no rush, and he’ll just say it in different, quieter ways.
“You look incredible,” he whispers.
She smiles softly at him, holding him in that adoring gaze of hers as he strips down to his boxers and crawls into bed with her.
He wraps his arms around her, pulling her against his chest with a hand on the back of her head as he kisses her hair.
~RW~
Rebecca nuzzles into his chest, planting a few soft kisses as she hugs him tighter.
“Thank you for not letting me push you away,” she whispers.
“Weren’t pushin’ me, sweetheart,” he mutters against her head. “You just needed a moment. Nothin’ I can’t handle.”
Rebecca nods as she kisses his chest again. A silent apology since she knows he wouldn’t accept a verbal one right now.
She knows the alcohol is at fault for it, but it still scares her a little how quickly she’d flipped into her guarded, cold persona she’d created to protect herself near the end of her marriage. Ted hadn’t been, nor has he ever been, anywhere even remotely close to what Rupert was, but she’d slipped back there anyway.
He hadn’t even told her to go home; he’d just asked if she wanted to, and let her pick the place. And he was right, she probably wouldn’t have usually said quite so publicly how nice his cock is, and he’d been gentle and protective in trying to quiet her a little. And he didn’t mean to upset her by calling her darling, and it sounded sweet as sugar coming from him.
“Ted?” she whispers softly, tilting her head up to look at him.
“Yeah?” he replies, gently brushing the hair off her forehead.
“I didn’t scare you, did I?”
Ted shakes his head, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “No, sweetheart. I was just a lil’ worried, is all. Never scared.”
Rebecca nods, shifting up the bed to kiss him properly.
It starts slow, Ted’s hand in her hair, the other on her waist, and then she deepens it, her tongue teasing against his lips before they part for her.
Then she’s sliding her hand down between them, grazing the hair on his stomach on her way to the waistband of his boxers, but his hand slides from her waist to stop her.
She knows why he does. It’s because Ted isn’t him.
Ted doesn’t need an apology, and he especially doesn’t want one like this. She doesn’t need to prove herself, doesn’t need to prove how she feels about him. She knows that, but it’s hard to break a habit, unlearn something that’s been so deeply conditioned into her.
Ted will help her. She knows he will.
He pulls her hand away, bringing it up to his chest instead, flattening her palm against the warm skin over his pecs. Silently telling her it’s still okay to touch him as he holds her face, hovering it just an inch or two from his own.
“Not tonight, okay, Rebecca?” he says gently. “We’re gonna sleep this one off, and if it’s still what you wanna do when we wake up, baby, I’m all over it.”
Rebecca nods, smiling softly as he brushes his thumbs over her cheeks.
“C’mere,” he whispers, pulling her down for slow, lingering kisses. “This is all I need.”
She can definitely give him that. She loves giving him that. She loves how gently he loves her, if she could be so bold as to call it that. It certainly feels like that.
It’s not an entirely unfamiliar feeling, but it’s different with him. Calmer. It’s all the clichés she always scoffs at.
She’ll keep it to herself for now. For a night when she hasn’t been drinking, and hasn’t been crying, and hasn’t been a version of herself she thought she’d rid herself of. There’s no rush. There never is with Ted.
There’s just endless patience and slow, lazy kisses. There’s his hands on her skin, in her hair, pulling her closer.
He doesn’t wish her goodnight, tonight; instead, he curls up behind her and whispers, “I’ll be right here when you wake up.” Because she can’t push him away.
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Relationship: Ted Lasso x Rebecca Welton
Chapter Rating: Explicit - 18+
Summary: Ted hires one Rebecca Welton as Henry’s new piano teacher.
Chapter length: 7.4k
V.
~TL~
“What’re you up to?” Ted asks, rolling onto his side under the covers with his phone to his ear.
“Curled up on my couch with a glass of wine, talking to you.” Her voice is just as warm through the phone as it is in person.
Ted smiles, the image of her vivid in his mind.
“How was your day?” he asks.
“Good, kids were good. Thai for dinner from the place you like.”
“And was I right?” Ted asks.
“Yes,” she admits, playfully short. “You were.”
“Happens sometimes, don’t worry ‘bout it,” Ted chuckles and hears her laugh lightly on the other end of the line.
“How was yours?”
“It was nice. Busy, but I got everythin’ planned out for tomorrow.”
“Good.”
He can hear her smile. He likes that he already knows what she sounds like when she’s smiling.
“Missin’ not bein’ able to hold you,” Ted says, tugging a pillow into his chest.
“You were the one who said it’d be too distracting to have me around tonight,” Rebecca teases.
“I know, I know,” Ted chuckles. “Just ‘cause I had a good reason doesn’t mean I’ve gotta like it.”
“I don’t like it either. Who’s going to try and microwave my tea in the morning?”
“Hey! I learned my lesson, won’t happen again,” he laughs.
“Next, I’ll just have to teach you to like it.”
“Wouldn’t hold your breath on that happenin’ in this lifetime.”
Rebecca laughs, and Ted smiles at the sound, letting the moment settle as she quiets.
“Ted?” she whispers.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You should come kiss me goodnight.”
“Rebecca,” he says, voice just a little lower. “That’s way too temptin’.”
“It’s a two-minute walk,” she argues playfully. “You could be back in bed before ten-thirty.”
Ted glances at his clock on the nightstand. She’s very right. And very convincing.
“I’ll be there in two minutes and twenty seconds,” he says, and hears a warm chuckle before the line goes dead.
The first twenty seconds are spent pulling a pair of grey sweats on over his boxers, putting on a white t-shirt, and slipping on his suede clogs. Dressed right at the intersection where frat-boy and middle-aged-suburban-dad fashion collides.
The other two minutes are accounted for in the time it takes to walk down his stairs, out the door, across the Green, and up onto Rebecca’s porch.
The door swings open before he has to knock, Rebecca smiling at him in an almost floor-length silk pink dressing gown with sun-shaped teal and orange spots. The warm light of her foyer casts a glowing rimlight around her silhouette.
“Hi,” Ted smiles back, quickly closing the distance between them, his hands sliding around her waist to her back.
“Hi, Ted,” she whispers, settling her arms around his neck.
He presses his lips to hers softly, still smiling between gentle kisses.
“Goodnight, Rebecca,” he mutters.
“Goodnight, Ted,” she purrs back in the light embrace. “Sleep well.”
“You too.”
He pulls back, then changes his mind and gives her another lingering kiss, palms flat against her back.
“Why’m I not stayin’ over again tonight?” he whispers.
“Because you’d be late for work,” she murmurs.
“You could make sure I get up,” he argues softly with another kiss.
“I don’t have that kind of willpower.”
Ted chuckles against her lips, planting a few lighter pecks across her cheek.
“You look beautiful, by the way,” he whispers in her ear as he pulls her in for a hug.
“Thank you, Ted,” she replies, softly kissing the top of his shoulder.
He buries his nose in the crook of her neck, breathing her in in hopes her smell will stick with him when he goes back home.
“Okay,” he says, reluctantly pulling back. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” she smiles, giving him one last kiss before they let go.
Ted’s Tuesday is busy. An introductory speech, breakout sessions with different departments, with more icebreakers than one person should be subjected to in a single day, and then his longer talk at the end. It’s pretty run-of-the-mill for him by now, but he finds himself enjoying it a little more today. Believing himself a little more.
There’s a particularly high point to his day, though. The brown paper bag that shows up on his doorstep ten minutes after he finishes up.
He tears off the delivery sticker, finding a large, meaty calzone and a minestrone. There’s a little note at the bottom of the receipt.
Hope it went well today xx
Ted smiles as he pulls it out of the bag and sets it on the counter, grabbing himself some cutlery and a beer before sitting down. He hadn’t had a chance to text Rebecca today beyond a good morning and a check-in midday.
He’s also starving, nothing but a little breakfast and a slice of cold pizza at lunch, so he takes a few bites before pulling out his phone.
[7:17 PM]
It’s delicious 😋
Thank you
[7:19 PM]
You’re welcome ☺️
Tired?
Pooped 😴
Was good though
Good xx
What time should I bring lunch tomorrow?
Noon.
Okie dokie 😁
Gotta Facetime Henry and shower after dinner
Call you after?
Can I come over?
Yes ma’am
I’ll leave the door unlocked
Ted doesn’t hear her arrive while he’s in the shower, but when he comes out into the living room in nothing but his sweatpants, damp hair lying over his forehead, Rebecca is sitting on his couch flipping through channels.
Her hair is down, and she’s wearing a tight-fitting, cream sweater and soft black dress pants, legs tucked under herself and her elbow propped on the armrest. She looks perfectly at home.
“Hey,” Ted whispers, gently kissing the top of her head as his hands slide down her shoulders.
“Hi,” she says, smiling up at him as she tilts her head back against the ledge of the couch.
He cups her cheeks, leaning down to press an upside-down kiss to her soft lips.
He wonders when he’ll stop getting butterflies when he kisses her. He hopes never.
“Thanks for dinner,” he whispers before another kiss.
“You’re welcome.” Her hand comes up, curling around the back of his head. “Come sit.”
Ted nods, kissing her cheek before he makes his way around the couch. Her free arm comes up, an almost instinctual invitation for him to settle in right next to her, leaning against her shoulder as his hand settles on her stomach.
Rebecca lands on an old classics channel playing something mindless and fun before tossing the remote to the far end of the couch and resting her hand on his bare shoulder.
Even on days like today, when Ted enjoys work, it still takes it out of him. Not draining mentally like it’s often been, just tiring. There’s always a lot of information to absorb, and even more to give.
Rebecca doesn’t seem to mind that he doesn’t say anything or that his eyes close, the low volume of the TV creating a nice ambience alongside the black and white glow of the screen.
“Need anything?” Rebecca asks softly.
“Was just ‘bout to ask you that,” he mumbles, smiling lazily.
Rebecca chuckles and kisses his forehead softly, waiting patiently for an actual answer.
“No thanks,” he adds quietly.
Her nails start gently scratching between his shoulder blades.
“I lied. I need that,” he mutters.
“I can manage that,” she smiles, kissing his forehead again as she keeps scratching.
He doesn’t nap, but he registers very little outside the feeling of her nails on his skin and their occasional quiet conversation about nothing in particular.
He asks her to tell him about her day, and not skip anything, because he wants to be able to look across the Green and imagine what she’s doing whenever he wants to.
She tells him about her early morning walk, her afternoon lessons, and lunch with her best friend Keeley, a yoga teacher she met just after her divorce. She tells him about playing the piano before visiting Mae for dinner.
He offers hums of acknowledgment and lazy nods, and asks if she told Keeley about them.
“I did,” she smiles against the crown of his head. “I told her it’s very new, but that it feels very good.”
Ted asks what Keeley had to say about it, simply because he’s curious to know what her friend thinks about her dating, and not necessarily about Ted himself. Though he’s maybe a little curious about what Rebecca has told her about him so far, too.
“She said that my eyes lit up when I talked about our date, and also reminded me that she’s not above fighting anyone who hurts me,” Rebecca chuckles quietly.
“Noted,” Ted smiles.
“Then she asked if it was with the dad I fancy who brought me biscuits,” Rebecca adds, chuckling almost shyly.
“Mm,” Ted hums, tilting his head up to catch her eye. “And is it?”
“It is,” she whispers with a soft smile. “And I’m quite enjoying getting to know him, and I keep wanting to spend time with him.”
“Good thing you live so close then,” Ted says, leaning up to give her a peck on the lips. “Can get to know him all you want.”
Rebecca smiles and returns his kiss with a slightly longer one.
Ted isn’t convinced aging has granted him as much wisdom as he was promised as a kid, but it has graciously offered him the ability to be less cautious of himself in the early stages of a relationship. He definitely attributes a little of that to Rebecca’s own openness, but he mostly thinks he’s just grown out of wanting to hide things. Learned that it’s much easier to just be wholly himself from the get-go, and let them accept it or not.
Thankfully, she seems to be very much on the same page with that. Enjoying an unfiltered learning of one another that started a little over a month ago with a lingering handshake, the briefest of conversations in the hallway of her home, and now finds itself in the press of her lips to his, and the knowing that they’d like to keep learning. That they’d like to keep discovering.
Because that’s what it still is, more than anything, it’s discovery. Discovering how she takes her tea, and how she seems to prefer kissing his bottom lip more than the top. Discovering that her pristine posture comes from her confidence just as much as it does from her piano playing. Discovering where she went to university, and which position she settles into most comfortably on the couch.
It’s discovering that she’d much rather just see him in person instead of over the phone, and discovering that he quite likes that, and he likes that they aren’t afraid of it. Discovering that it still feels slow and unhurried, even though they’ve seen each other every day since Friday, and how that makes it weird to say they’ve only been on one date.
Mostly, he discovers that he really likes her, and that she looks even more beautiful now, curled up on his couch in the glow of the television, than she had the first moment he saw her, which is saying a lot. And it’s discovering that kissing her is the easiest and most nerve-racking thing in the world.
Ted comes out of his bathroom to discover Rebecca setting a glass of water down on his nightstand.
“You stayin’?” he asks, wrapping his arms around her.
Rebecca turns in his arms, wrapping her own around him and kissing his cheek.
“I have an early lesson, and you look like someone who could sleep in tomorrow,” she whispers.
Ted nods a little bit. “But do I also look like someone who could be cuddled to sleep?”
Rebecca chuckles, and her cheeks pink a little.
“You can sneak out after if you don’t have to go now,” he says, quiet and hopeful.
“I don’t have to go,” she replies softly, kissing him before he crawls into bed.
She follows closely behind him, sitting up against the headboard for him to nuzzle against her thigh as she strokes his hair.
~RW~
Rebecca’s not really sure how she’s meant to leave him now, but she knows herself well enough to know that the excuse of “it’s only a two-minute walk away” would undoubtedly have her running late to her first lesson tomorrow.
He falls asleep quickly, but she lingers a long while, just combing her fingers through his soft hair, relishing the hot patch of fabric on her pants where his breath lands in even, steady huffs, and his heavy hand on her thigh.
She does eventually slip out of bed, earning no more than a groggy, unconscious hum as she slides a pillow under his arm to replace her legs. His fingers curl into fabric, subconscious none the wiser.
She wanders– okay, she snoops around his quiet flat. Curious, not intrusive.
Most of the pictures of Henry are on the walls, but there’s a shelf of his bookcase dedicated solely to a young Ted, who looks exactly like Henry but with darker hair. There’s an older man, whom she guesses to be his father, in most of the earlier ones, and he looks exactly like Ted but clean-shaven.
Her favourite is a yearbook photo from high school. It’s black and white, and his hair is shorter but parted the same way he does it now. There’s no moustache on his top lip, and his ears stick out of his slightly narrower face. A heartbreaker if she didn’t know better.
Then a university graduation photo, hair swooped over his forehead, a shorter redhead, his mother, she assumes, tucked under his arm.
She likes looking at them, because, as she often forgets about herself, she forgets he was young once, too. He was scraping his knees and climbing fences. He was bright-eyed and curious about the world, and he was having his first kiss and going to his first party. He was moving away from home for the first time and getting married.
He was doing all the same things she was, and a million different things from her, with a thousand different people, in a hundred different cities. And now here he is, sleeping in the other room while she looks at photos of him from before he had lines around his eyes, from before he had any grey around his temples or sprinkling his moustache. From when he was learning everything he’s showing her now.
She wanders the trail of photos hanging in the hallway; a chronology of Henry Lasso. The first is Ted in a hospital bed, grinning ear-to-ear, teary-eyed and bare-chested, holding Henry as though he’s the one who just gave birth.
Then a chubby little hand wrapped around a big thumb, and another next to it; Ted smiling at Henry, pointing at the camera, trying to get the giggly toddler to turn his attention to it.
By the time he’s around two or three, Rebecca starts to recognize Henry a little more in the photos. His familiar light brown mop of hair filling in, and his father’s dimples appearing on his cheeks.
Michelle makes an occasional appearance, too, in a family outing to a football game, and in front of their house on Henry’s first day of school, but most of the photos are of Henry alone or with Ted.
Her favourite amongst this collection can’t have been from more than a year or two ago; a selfie from the top of the London Eye at night. It’s dark and a little bit blurry, but Ted’s arm is around Henry, both of them donning their matching grins.
She likes it because it reminds her most of the Ted sleeping down the hall. The one she knows. The one who’s struggling a little, and who, quite literally, makes it his life’s work to make sure others don’t. Others like Henry, and now others like her.
She hasn’t probed Ted much about his past beyond their exchanges of what they’ve learned from being married before, but one day she’d like to have him walk her through these pictures and learn everything about him she wasn’t there to see.
~TL~
Ted pads groggily into his kitchen a little after ten, scratching his chest as he stretches his back, one eye barely open as the sunlight nearly blinds him.
His kitchen looks tidier than he remembers it being. There are no dishes on the drying rack that’s usually stacked full, the papers that were scattered on the table are neatly piled in the middle, and everything just looks a little straighter.
[10:07 AM]
Morning 😁
Thought I woke up in the wrong house
Thank you 😙
[10:15 AM]
It was nothing ❤️
Just thought it might be easier to make my lunch this way 😉
Ted chuckles at the message. He likes that she pretends it’s for her own benefit. She knows he doesn’t love the idea of needing help with anything.
It’s not anything that would’ve taken ages to do by any means, but it’s also not anything Ted has managed to get himself more than maybe once a year. He keeps things clean, but neat is a different story.
But Rebecca, who Ted is pretty sure has someone else do these sorts of things for her, had stuck around while he slept and tidied things up, and it came without a lick of judgment.
Some people might’ve left a note or something, drawing attention to the fact that they’d done it, hoping for some sort of thanks or reward, as if they’re proving to Ted they were more put together than he is.
Not Rebecca, she just left it as something nice to wake up to. Because she’s not trying to fix him, she’s just trying to make things a little easier for him, and she does. The same way getting dressed up for their date had made him feel better, the tidy kitchen does, too.
~RW~
He arrives on her front porch at noon exactly with a smile – he’s had the same smile since he was a kid, she now knows – and a tote bag held proudly in the air.
“Delivery for Miss Welton,” he says cheerfully.
Rebecca just grabs him by the arm and pulls him in for a kiss.
“That’s for the food.” She says, kissing him again. “That’s the service fee.” Then three more. “And that’s the tip.”
“Hundred and fifty percent tip? Servers must love you.”
“I’m only this generous when they’re exceptionally handsome,” she chuckles and pulls him inside.
He blushes the tiniest bit with a coy smile and toes his sneakers off as she leads him to the kitchen.
He unpacks two delicious-looking sandwiches and tomato soup that’s still steaming when he opens the lid. It is technically simple, but she can tell the soup didn’t come from a can, the bread looks fresh, and that the meat isn’t the processed stuff you buy at just any grocery store.
Ted has already scarfed down a few bites by the time Rebecca has poured them each a glass of water.
Judging by the lateness of his good morning text, she’d wager he slept in long enough to skip breakfast.
“Oh fucks that’s good,” Rebecca says, sliding her soup closer to try next. “Did you make the bread, too?” She eyes the fresh sourdough.
Ted shakes his head. “One thing I’ve never gotten the hang of, I’m always overfeedin’ it.”
Rebecca chuckles as she grabs a spoonful of soup and pictures an overeager Ted feeding his sourdough starter too often, probably worried it–
“Not my fault, it looks hungry.” Exactly. “Same reason my plants are always dyin’, too.”
Rebecca laughs again, reaching over to rub his back.
“You don’t have to worry about overfeeding or overwatering me,” she says, smiling at him. A simple assurance that there’s no such thing as too much with her.
He gives her a soft smile in return, leaning over to kiss her, lips warm from the soup.
“Two hundred percent,” Ted mumbles with a cheeky smile.
Rebecca gives him a playful eye roll and an affectionate squeeze of his thigh as she gets back to eating.
Rebecca is sitting on her counter, Ted’s hands on her thighs as he noses at her jaw.
“How long til your next lesson?” he mumbles, nipping just below her ear.
“Ten minutes,” Rebecca says disappointedly.
Ted groans, dropping his forehead to the crook of her neck.
“Come back after dinner,” she whispers, tilting her head back to coax his lips up to the corner of her jaw.
“Still hungry?” he teases, nipping at her jaw.
“Starving,” she mutters, hooking her legs around his waist and pulling him closer.
“I’ll be back at eight.”
His hands slide around to her ass as he grinds into her, jaw clenching with a low groan. “Fuck,” Rebecca gasps quietly, leaning back with her hands flat on the counter.
He takes the opportunity to trail his lips down, pulling the neck of her blouse to mouth along her collarbones.
“Ted– you have to go,” Rebecca breaths, pulling him harder against her.
“Why?” he mutters against her skin, gently biting the swell of her breast.
“You know why,” Rebecca whispers, biting her lip to hold back a moan.
“I know,” he groans.
Ted pulls her closer first, grinding himself into her one last time before his kisses lighten and trail back up to her lips.
“I’ll be back after dinner,” he assures her, a little breathy, cheeks flushed.
Rebecca nods, smoothing her blouse over her stomach as she watches him adjust the crotch of his pants, although it does very little to mask the evidence of his boner.
Rebecca bites her lip, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as her eyes slowly make their way back to his.
“We’ll start where we left off,” she purrs.
Ted’s lips curl into a hungry smile, and he nods slowly.
Rebecca’s intention with Wednesday lessons had been to have one day filled to the brim so she could leave others more leisurely and open. It was quite nice when it didn’t mean she had to spend six hours straight thinking about Ted coming back over to do… whatever it is they’ll do tonight. She has ideas.
Ideas she ponders heavily over her quick dinner and shower. Ideas that align with not putting anything on but a white lace set and her red silk dressing gown.
She knows, realistically, that Ted hasn’t been hard all day since leaving, but the fantasy doesn’t hit any less as he presses her against the wall and is already half-hard against her thigh.
It hits a little harder when he tells her he’s been waiting all day, thinking about getting his hands and mouth back on her.
Her robe parts with her thighs, and the seam of his khakis against the thin lace over her clit makes her gasp, unable to kiss him back as he grinds into her.
“Right where we left off,” he says, voice rough and needy as he plants sloppy kisses down her neck.
They stumble into her living room, and she pulls Ted down over her on the couch.
“It is comfy,” he notes playfully between heated kisses.
“Maybe we talk about that later,” Rebecca chuckles, nipping at his lip.
Ted smiles and sits back on his heels between her thighs as Rebecca undoes the belt of her robe, letting it fall open.
“Jesus, Rebecca,” he mutters, as his hands run over her ribs until his thumbs tuck under the lace of her bra.
“Like it?” she teases, biting her lip as she watches his eyes roam every inch of her, his hands following suit.
“It’s not even fair,” he smiles just before his lips crash back into hers.
One of his hands tangles in his hair as the other slides over her ass, groping it just this side of roughly as he pulls her hips up to his, groaning as he does.
His mouth trails downwards, leaving wet marks wherever it lands on his way to her tits, where he runs his tongue over the lace, looking up at her as he sucks her nipple through the fabric.
“You can– ah– take it off,” she gasps, back arching as he nips lightly at the freshly formed peak.
He shakes his head. “Not lettin’ you put all that effort to waste,” he says as his tongue, lips, and teeth make their way to her other breast. “Look way too sexy.”
Rebecca tugs her bottom lip between her lips with a needy smile, exhaling sharply through her nose whenever he kisses, sucks, or bites her.
She likes him like this: a little needier than the last time, a little less careful about where his lips land.
He slides down the couch, pulling her left thigh up over his shoulder and sucking at the inside of it, drawing a sharp hiss from her as his mouth moves higher.
“Thought we were trying something new,” she teases, not complaining in the slightest.
“Figured it’d be like that game where you repeat all the words from before and add a new one at the end,” he replies, looking up at her with a slightly cocky smile.
A good analogy, though Rebecca would have perhaps used one other than a children’s game played on road trips.
“And you think you remember what came first?” Rebecca asks slyly.
“I remember who came first,” Ted says with another nip to her thigh.
Rebecca gives him a look that reads as aroused more than anything else, and gives his hair a playful tug, stopping him just before his lips touch lace.
He looks up at her, raising his eyebrows ever so slightly.
“I could make you come first,” she purrs.
“You definitely could,” he whispers, smirking a little. “But I don’t think either of us wants that right now.”
He’s right, but she’s loving this too much not to press for a little more.
“And why do you think that?”
Ted’s eyes dip down, and she can tell by his reaction that he can see the wet spot in her underwear.
“‘Cause you look like you’ve been waitin’ all day, sweetheart.”
He’s positioned himself in a way that tells her – rightfully so – that he doesn’t trust her in the slightest to keep herself still. One arm is over her right thigh, fingers curling around her waist, while his other hand is squeezing her left thigh just below her ass, keeping it over his shoulder.
Her lace pants have been pushed aside, but not removed, because he’s right, it is sexy to keep them on, and her fingers tighten in his hair as he makes her come on his tongue a second time. Apparently, each individual orgasm needs to be accounted for before they can move on to something new.
She might die by the time they get around to fucking.
She tastes herself on his tongue as he kisses her, slow and deep as she comes down from her second climax, giving her a breath between each kiss until she’s all but melted into the couch.
Once her breath has evened out, or at least relatively settled, she reaches for the hem of his polo, tugging it free from his khakis as she slowly pulls it up over his head.
“Your turn,” she whispers, slowly sitting them both up until she’s straddling him.
Ted nods, hands on her ass as he rolls his hips up into her. His jaw clenches, and his fingers tense. There’s no possible way he could get any harder than he is.
“Tell me what you like,” Rebecca whispers, reaching down to start undoing his belt.
She doesn’t want to give him whatever she gives anyone else; she wants to learn what he likes as well as he’s learning her.
“Slow,” he says quietly. “And look at me.”
Slow and with eye contact… not exactly surprising given… everything about him, but she’s still thinking he’s got a few more surprises beyond being very adept with his tongue.
“Okay,” she says softly.
She undoes the button of his pants, glancing down only briefly to find his fly and pulling it down with a slow zzzzip. You could hear a pin drop in the thick tension of her living room.
Her hand slips into his khakis, staying above his boxers, and she draws her bottom lip between her teeth when she cups her hand around his dick.
“Ohhh,” he groans, head tipping back.
“Looks like someone else has been waiting all day,” Rebecca teases gently, dragging one fingertip up his length to the wet spot by his tip.
“Not just today.” He gives her a shaky smile, her hand dips below the fabric, and she curls her fingers around the base of his cock.
~TL~
Ted’s vision goes hazy for a second, head tipping forward at the sensation of her hand around him. She’s squeezing, just the tiniest bit, just enough for his breath to catch.
She doesn’t move, and he doesn’t really want her to yet. She looks absurdly perfect on his lap right now, the matching white lace set, and the silk robe flowing down behind her. And she’s looking at him like he’s perfect, and he remembers that someone does look at him like that now. And she wants to know what he likes.
He likes the first stroke, all the way from base to tip, thumb brushing over his leaking slit, and he likes the way her lips twitch when he moans for her. He likes how her free hand glides over his chest, scratching gently as it sails back to his waist.
He likes how she listens, and keeps it slow, and keeps her eyes on his, and he likes that she seems to like it as much as he does. He likes telling her when the twist of her wrist feels good and how beautiful she looks.
He likes it when she shifts back on his thighs just enough to tug his pants and boxers down to free him properly. He likes it when she tells him how hard he is, how hot it is to see him leaking for her.
He does momentarily get distracted, wondering how the hell he managed to get a woman so unbelievably beautiful, wearing that, sitting on his lap, and touching him so perfectly, he doesn’t know how he’s thinking about anything at all.
“Faster,” he mutters, hips jerking up into her rhythm.
Her green eyes are focused and unwavering on him, lips curled and parted with the tip of her tongue against her front teeth in concentration as she starts pumping him a little faster.
“Fuck–” he groans, and his head falls back against the couch.
“Feel good?” she whispers, leaning in to kiss his neck.
“So good…” he mutters, lost in the feeling of her.
He can tell she’s still a little caught up in her head about making this good for him, focused on following his exact rhythm and never really trying anything he doesn’t tell her he likes. And he likes that, how could he not, but he wants her to trust herself with him. He wants her to learn things about him he didn’t even know himself, and to learn him the way he’s been trying to learn her. In every twitch, every sound, every hitch of his breath.
He knows she can, because she’s already been learning him in every other way without direction.
“Just do what feels right,” he says, hand sliding up to cup her jaw. “Show me what I like.”
He pulls her down, crashing his lips to hers, trying to rid her of any hesitation.
She strokes him a little faster, twisting her wrist on every upstroke, squeezing harder at the bottom.
He moans against her, panting as he tells her how good she feels.
She grows a little more confident, testing out different rhythms, focusing on his head more at times, reaching lower for his balls at others.
He was right, she can learn him just like this. She can read the way his jaw clenches, and how he twitches in her hand, and when his breath settles for a moment, he knows she can tell it still feels good, but could feel even better.
He wouldn’t have even cared if he finished or not; he would’ve let her explore every inch of him and learn every sound that could possibly come from his lips. But he does; hard and without warning, fingers digging into her waist as he moans and coats his stomach with his own release.
He makes a sound, something between a moan and an attempt at her name, and he slumps back against the cushions as she slows her strokes to a crawl before stopping completely.
“God, you’re amazin’, Rebecca,” he pants, a lopsided smile spreading across his lips.
~RW~
He looks perfectly spent, panting, eyes a little glassy, but still trained on hers.
She leans down, kisses him softly, and mutters a quiet, “thank you.”
Not just for his compliment, but for his trust. For letting her learn, for showing her she can know things he doesn’t say out loud.
It feels good because, as much as she adores him telling her what he likes and wants, she also likes knowing she can figure it out on her own. Especially because she knows he’s not always the kind of person to ask for what he needs.
“Lemme get cleaned up, sweetheart, then we’ve got some cuddlin’ to do if I have any say in it,” Ted smiles, kissing her cheek and helping her off him.
“I can do it,” she says.
“I can clean up my own messes,” Ted replies with a playful smile, tugging his khakis off but leaving his boxers around his thighs.
“It was at the very least a joint effort,” she chuckles. “Please? I want to.”
“Well, I can’t say no to that.”
He smiles, and she grabs his hand, pulling him up and leading him to the kitchen sink.
He leans against the counter as she damps a cloth with warm water, and as she wipes his stomach clean, it occurs to her that she’s never done, let alone wanted, to do this part.
“Okay?” Ted asks softly, clearly seeing something on her face she hadn’t meant to show.
“Yes, just–” There aren’t really any words for it. “Yes.” Her tone at least seems to be satisfying enough as an answer.
“Good,” he whispers.
She pulls his boxers back up around his hips and plants a kiss squarely in the center of his chest as he wraps his arms around her.
She thinks about having sex with him again, as she’s been doing regularly for the last several days, but she doesn’t actually think about the sex part this time. She thinks about this part, thinks about the after.
She imagines that if this is the tenderness she gets after a little head and a handjob, Ted has probably already started planning the most elaborately romantic evening she’ll ever have the pleasure of living through whenever it happens.
“Couch or bed?” he asks quietly.
“I want to get ready for bed so we don’t have to worry about getting up later,” Rebecca replies.
“That.” Ted gives her a peck on the lips. “Might just be the best idea you’ve ever had.”
Rebecca chuckles and gives him a few more pecks for good measure before they make their way upstairs, Ted briefly stopping to collect his shirt and pants.
They brush their teeth side by side, and Ted sits on the edge of the counter while Rebecca does her nighttime skincare routine, and asks her about every product before requesting his own, albeit abbreviated, pampering.
Rebecca rubs the last of the moisturizer on his cheeks with the pads of her thumbs as she leans in for a kiss, laces her fingers in his, and pulls him off the counter.
She walks backwards towards her bed, dragging him along as his eyes dip lower, landing on where her white tank top is bunched slightly at her waist, a sliver of skin visible above the waistband of her white silk sleep shorts.
He asks her, like he always does, if she needs anything else before crawling into bed with her. She settles completely on top of him, legs tangled together, one hand on his waist, the other in his hair, and her cheek pressed to his bare chest.
He combs his fingers through her hair as his other hand slips under her tank top and splays out on the small of her back.
He asks quietly about her day, and she tells him about a student who’d accidentally been practicing a song in the wrong key all week and had to work the entire lesson on fixing it, and then she thanks him again for lunch.
Then she asks about his, and he tells her that he had dinner with Beard and told him all about this beautiful blonde he’s started seeing, and he tells her he sold a few copies of prerecorded content, and that he doesn’t like it as much, because he likes his work to be more personal.
“How’d you get into it in the first place?” she asks.
He shrugs. “Like talking and like cheerin’ people up. My guidance counsellor told me it was a no-brainer,” he chuckles.
Rebecca chuckles before saying, “Seriously though, I mean, there had to be something that started it.”
“It was a kind of joke, actually. I’d tweaked my knee and couldn’t play my rec league flag football, so I came and gave my team a big pregame speech before the finals ‘cause I thought it’d be funny – which it was – and one of the guys on my team was startin’ a business and hired me to do a similar thing at his office during onboarding,” Ted explains. “Then, dunno, guess word got ‘round, and kept gettin’ ‘round and then all of a sudden I had a career.”
Rebecca thinks it makes sense for him, something just falling into his lap without him having to think about whether or not it’s what he wanted.
“And you like it?” she asks.
“Sometimes,” he replies. “I like the small stuff, little office getaways, it’s a lot less… speech-y, more just chattin’. The big stuff pays better, obviously, but it’s hard to know if you’re makin’ any sense or gettin’ to everyone when there's a hundred people there.”
Rebecca understands that, it’s the same sentiment that warded her off from wanting to become a concert pianist or perform anywhere beyond her home or the pub.
“What do you do exactly? I’m kind of picturing a priest delivering a sermon,” Rebecca chuckles.
Ted laughs and shakes his head. “I mean, I try not to make it like that. At the small stuff, I try to get to know a lil’ ‘bout everyone, what they do, where they’re at in life, and just try to find a way to make them see the bright side in everythin’. At the big events, I do a lil’ speech at the start, tell my story or somethin’, then I usually watch some of the panels or smaller meetings, and at the end I do another talk based on what I’ve learned durin’ the day, what I think’d be good to hear if I was them.”
Rebecca nods with a small hum of acknowledgment before propping her chin between his pecs to look up at him.
“And what’s your story, Ted Lasso?” she asks with a playful but soft smile.
“Nothin’ any more excitin’ than anyone else’s,” he chuckles.
“That can’t be true if people are paying you to tell it,” she says, gently scratching the back of his head.
His index starts tracing figure-eights around the dimples of her back as he answers, staring absently at the ceiling.
“I dunno. I just talk about family mostly. Talk about losin’ my dad, becomin’ a dad, becomin’ a husband. And more recently, becomin’ an ex-husband, and I talk about findin’ the good in life and in work.”
“And do you always find the good in life?” Rebecca pokes, teasing a little, but the sentiment is sincere.
“No,” he chuckles. “Same thing as doctors makin’ the worst patients. But I made it. It was hard, course it was, but it’s easier with Henry.”
He pauses and looks back down at her, brushing the hair from her forehead, cupping her cheek, and smiling softly.
“There’s more good now, though.”
Rebecca’s heart does a stupid little flip, and she smiles, her eyes wide and gracious on his.
“There is, isn’t there,” she whispers, shifting herself up to kiss him softly.
His fingers curl into her hair as he deepens the kiss just a little before pulling back.
She kisses his cheek, then his jaw, on her way back down to her cozy spot on his chest.
“Um, also,” Ted says nervously. “Speakin’ of Henry. I won’t be able to see you as much next week.”
“I know, Ted,” she smiles, kissing his chest.
She’d almost expected to be sad at the reminder that he won’t always be available to her every day of the week, but she finds herself feeling a little happy knowing how much he loves his weeks with his son, knowing she’d gotten to brighten up one without him, and wondering if maybe someday, she and Henry’d be in on it together.
“I’ll try and at least call most days, though,” he assures her quietly.
“Thank you,” she smiles. “But really, don’t worry about it, okay? I know what he means to you, and I don’t ever want you to feel even a sliver of guilt about spending time with him.”
Ted nods, smiling down at her. “Thank you.”
“It’s really not something you have to thank me for, Ted. But you’re welcome.”
Ted nods again, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
“And maybe don’t uh… don’t say anythin’ to him ‘bout… whatever this is,” he says quietly.
She gets his hesitation, not about not telling Henry, that’s obvious, but the “whatever this is.” Because it seems too soon to call it something, and strange to call it nothing.
“Lips are sealed,” she smiles. Then she pauses, hesitating a moment before asking, “Are you seeing anyone else right now?”
Ted shakes his head. “Never really done the whole ‘datin’ more than one person at once and pickin’ one after a bit’ thing,” he says, unsurprisingly. “Logistics alone’d be impossible,” he adds with a chuckle.
Rebecca lets out a huff of laughter, though she knows the real reason is that Ted doesn’t seem to be the kind of person who’d be able to give himself, even in the tiniest amount, to more than one person at once.
“I’m not either,” Rebecca tells him, and although she has done the whole dating more than one person at once thing, she doesn’t have the slightest inclination to do so now.
Ted gives her a little smile before cautiously asking, “Do you wanna be?”
He gives her an out, of course he does, to let him be a part of a field for her to play.
“No,” she states. “I don’t.”
“Okay,” he smiles, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “So this is…”
“It doesn’t have to have a name. We know.”
He smiles a little wider, a little softer.
“We know that it’s this.”
“Exactly,” she smiles, kissing his chest.
It’s this. It’s lying tangled in bed together, his breath the only thing she can hear over his heartbeat under her ear, and his hands gentle and safe wherever they land. It’s open and honest, and it’s not at all scary.
It doesn’t feel like putting herself out there, and it doesn’t have the tedium of getting to know someone and discovering you have no real interest in doing so.
It’s a lot of things they don’t bother naming, because they know.
They know because of the way she leans up to kiss him, and the way he rolls them over to deepen it, and the way his hand slides up her shirt.
They know because of the way he kisses her, and the way he holds her tight against his chest and whispers goodnight.
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Relationship: Ted Lasso x Rebecca Welton
Chapter Rating: Explicit - 18+
Summary: Ted hires one Rebecca Welton as Henry’s new piano teacher.
Chapter length: 9.7k
IV.
~TL~
Her house feels different tonight, as though he’s seeing it for the very first time. They don’t take their usual route to the back towards the piano room, but instead, she leads him to her kitchen.
The lights are low and warm as Rebecca pulls a vase down from a cupboard to put the flowers in, setting them right in the middle of her marble island.
“Drink?” she asks, reaching for two tumblers.
“Whatever you’re havin’.”
He’s feeling looser, but not even buzzed from the drinks at the restaurant, though he’s not looking to have more if she’s not.
Rebecca nods, adds just a splash of vodka to the two glasses, then adds soda, and slides one across to Ted, leaning over the counter towards him.
“Thanks,” he says quietly, fingers brushing hers as he grabs the glass.
She’s farther from him than she’d been at the restaurant, but here, alone in her kitchen, the space feels negligible. She’s just elegant curve after elegant curve, elbow propped on the cool counter, and her neckline looks lower from this angle. She makes it feel like there’s a soft waltz playing, even in the silence, as if they’re dancing even in stillness.
“Come on,” she says, straightening up and walking towards the hall.
Ted grabs his glass and follows closely behind, the sway of her hips a mesmerizing rhythm as she leads him down the familiar path to the piano room.
“Can’t take a night off?” he jokes, and she slides the door shut behind them with a little laugh.
It’s darker in the room than it is when he brings Henry. No sunlight is coming through the big windows, and the only light is the warm lamp in the corner she turns on.
She smooths her dress down against the backs of her thighs as she sits down, patting the spot on the bench next to her and setting her glass down at one end of the piano.
“Hope you’re not expectin’ me to know how to play.” Ted smiles, taking another sip of his drink before setting it on the opposite end of the piano as he sits next to her.
The bench is delightfully cramped, hardly any room to be anything but pressed up against one another.
“It’s really simple,” she says.
Rebecca plays a simple tune, just seven notes, and gestures for him to repeat it.
He plays it, not nearly as gracefully as she had, but it’s not terrible.
“Relax, I’m not going to critique you,” she chuckles, reaching to nudge his wrist up so his palm isn’t slouching down.
Ted smiles and nods, trying it again, just a little smoother this time.
“See, that’s perfect. Now this,” she says, playing the same rhythm just a few notes higher.
Ted nods and plays the new tune, his gaze focused intently on his fingers and the keys, but he feels Rebecca’s eyes on him, and feels the warmth of her soft smile.
“Perfect,” she coos. “Now just play the first one twice, and the second one once, and repeat it.”
“Gonna be concert ready by tomorrow,” Ted chuckles and does as she says.
It’s a familiar tune, from a movie he thinks, though he can’t quite place it. He plays the pattern once, twice, and on the third time, he recognizes the song when Rebecca starts to sing.
City of stars
Are you shining just for me?
He fumbles on a note or two, the sound of her voice rushing through him and catching him off guard. He mutters an apology, but she just smiles, shakes her head, and rubs his back as they keep going.
City of stars
There's so much that I can't see
Who knows?
I felt it from the first embrace I shared with you
That now, our dreams
They've finally come true
She whispers a happy praise to him as his playing grows a little steadier between verses, and he even manages to steal a glance without missing a beat. She joins in on the playing as the song continues, adding much more elaborate music to the air than Ted’s repeating rhythm, filling out the space as she keeps singing.
City of stars
Just one thing everybody wants
There in the bars
And through the smokescreen of the crowded restaurants
It's love
Yes, all we're looking for is love from someone else
Her hand leaves his back, and she gently nudges his off the keys as she takes over for the chorus, and Ted even contributes a word or two, though much more quietly, not wanting to interrupt her perfect pitch.
A rush, a glance
A touch, a dance
A look in somebody's eyes
To light up the skies
To open the world and send it reeling
A voice that says, "I'll be here"
And "you'll be alright"
I don't care if I know
Just where I will go
'Cause all that I need is this crazy feeling
A rat-tat-tat on my heart
Think I want it to stay
Her hands leave the piano again, one drifting back to his lower back as she takes a sip of her drink and gestures for him to take over. He finds the tune again, his eyes staying on hers this time, even though it makes him misplay a note or two.
City of stars
Are you shining just for me?
City of stars
You never shined so brightly
Her voice holds the last note longer than he does on the piano until it all fades into a soft, heavy silence, his breath and heartbeat ringing in his ears.
For someone who usually has maybe too many things to say, there’s not so much as a syllable in his mind right now, the room a blur beyond her curved lips and her hand on his back.
“Well done,” she whispers, sliding her hand up to turn his head a little more towards her.
He says thanks in his head, but all Rebecca gets is a little nod and wide pupils.
~RW~
She chuckles softly, cheeks pinking at just how gone he looks right now.
“God, you’re beautiful,” Ted finally manages in a breathy whisper.
She smiles wider, a hint of hunger in it as she gently grabs his chin. His lips part as she leans closer, breath ghosting over him as her eyes drop to his mouth. His head tilts ever so slightly as his hand slides around her waist. His body is practically asking, begging for her, and god does it ever feel good to feel so wanted. So desired.
She doesn’t kiss him, just a teasing swipe of her tongue up from his bottom to his top lip, making his breath shake against hers. Then she ghosts her lips against his, the faintest, barest of pressure that makes his fingers tense against her waist.
It’s thrilling how patient he is, how he waits even though she can feel in every cell of his body aching for her. How he waits, even when he lets out a needy, quiet groan when she nips his lip playfully.
She just wants it all to build a little more, to have the lid rattling on the top of a pot just shy of boiling over. She wants every touch from tonight, every lingering eye, every whispered compliment, every note of the song, to simmer just a little longer. To see just how much they can take before–
“Kiss me,” she mutters.
He crashes his lips into hers in an instant, his free hand coming up to cup her cheek, pulling her impossibly close. There’s no slow build-up like the other night; it’s desperate from the first swipe of her tongue against his. Needy from the first moan pulled from his chest and coaxed from her lips.
He leans further into her, almost sending them toppling, but he catches himself on the piano, a loud jumble of notes ringing through the air as he hooks his arm around her.
She laughs lightly against his lips, loving their carefree, clumsy affection. He’s almost frantic with how he’s kissing her, lively and uncoordinated. As though there are too many things he wants to do, but only so many he can do at once. She can practically hear his racing heart, feel it in the tips of his fingers.
“Relax,” she purrs, pulling back just a little to slow the kiss.
He nods, letting out a low hum as he matches her pace, their mouths opening and closing slowly against one another, tongues softer as they dance.
He brings his hand from the piano back to her face, and it’s shaking just the tiniest bit. The only reason her hand isn’t shaking on his back is how tightly she’s grasping the wool of his suit.
Her free hand slides over her thighs to his, creeping higher than she’d made it at dinner, and she doesn’t have to get very close to feel the slight strain of the fabric. It draws a little sound out of him, and he shifts slightly towards her, though the piano bench is starting to feel a little limiting.
Rebecca’s lips leave his, trailing over his jaw towards his ear before moving down his neck. She sucks softly at his pulse point, his breath heavy in her ear as her hand moves up a little farther. She can feel the heat from where she’s not quite touching.
“Good?” she asks between wet kisses to his neck.
“Mmhm,” Ted nods, his hand curling around the back of her neck, pulling her mouth harder against him. “S’good.”
“More?”
“Please,” he pants.
She presses her lips back to his, muffling his groan as she palms his hardening bulge, squeezing the thick outline of his dick.
He mutters a soft curse against her mouth, thighs tensing as he rests his forehead against hers.
“So hard already,” she coos, bringing her free hand up to brush his hair back.
He blushes a little, eyes dropping away from hers, and she sees a little worry that’d been kept at bay tonight creep back into them.
“I meant it as a good thing, Ted,” she assures him quickly, still in a low, sultry tone. “It’s fucking hot.”
She cups his cheek, pulling their faces just far enough apart to meet his eyes properly as he gives her a tiny nod.
“Good,” he chuckles, still clearly a little shy about it. “‘Cause I can’t help it.”
“I know,” she smiles. “That’s why it’s hot.”
She runs her hand over him with a little more pressure this time, watching his eyelids flutter.
“You feel really good,” he mutters.
“Yeah?” Her smile softens, watching every little twitch in his body as she runs her hand up and down the length of his clothed cock.
He nods, but there’s still a tiny hint of hesitation in him, his eyes not quite as relaxed as earlier. Not like he wants to stop, just that he’s a little… overwhelmed.
She slows to a halt, just cupping him gently as she leans in to kiss him again.
“Tell me what else feels good,” she whispers against his lips, brushing her thumb over his cheek.
“Your lips,” he replies quietly, kissing her back.
Rebecca hums in approval, keeping the kisses gentle and slow, listening for his breath to settle a little.
“Your waist.” His fingers tense there to emphasize his point. “Your voice.”
“You like my voice?” Rebecca asks softly, smiling against his lips.
“Mmhm,” he nods. “So pretty. S’pecially when you sing for me.”
Rebecca’s heart flutters; it’s not news to her, but the way he says it, so soft and honest, warms her from head to toe.
And she likes how he settles as he talks, focusing on her, on answering her questions, it makes his kisses airier, settles his racing heartbeat. She gives his bulge an experimental squeeze, and he kisses her harder, dropping both hands to her waist and pulling her on top of him.
She smiles against his heated kisses, her arms wrapping around his neck as she presses down onto him. He’s not getting overwhelmed anymore, that much is clear to Rebecca, but she’s also wondering if she maybe overdid it on the whole getting him to focus on her thing… because god is he ever.
~TL~
Fuck if she doesn’t know him already, and fuck if it doesn’t just make him want to make her come undone for him. It feels like every nerve in his body is rewiring itself to tune into her, to feel every little reaction, every silent plea her body makes for him.
When she leans over him, kissing him hard and deep, he wraps his arms around her, pulling her flush against his chest and dropping a hand to the swell of her ass, moaning into the kiss when he presses his fingers into it.
When she grinds down on him, he tenses his thighs, pulling her down more firmly, helping her find just the right ridge of his body to make her breath hitch. He holds her waist, helping her set a steady pace to the rhythm roll of her hips into him; slow but intentional.
He breaks the kiss to catch his breath, staring up at her, a shaky smile playing across his lips as he watches the flush creep up her chest.
“Look so good like this, Rebecca,” he pants.
“You feel so good,” she mutters back, just as breathless as he is.
His lips land on her jaw, then lower, wet and sloppy down her neck and across her collarbones.
He feels her reach back, and a few notes of the piano play quickly before he hears the snap of the fallboard falling shut over the keys.
It startles him briefly, but he gets the memo. His hands drop to her ass, and he lifts her, standing up to set her down on the piano as her legs wrap around his waist.
There are a lot of things he wants to learn about Rebecca, like her favourite colour, her favourite meal, and what she likes to do on Sundays. But right now? Right now, Ted really wants to learn what she tastes like.
She tugs at the shoulders of his blazer, pulling it down off his arms and tossing it aside, and his lips are back on hers as he loosens his tie before he sends it to join his jacket. He undoes one button, then a second, then he decides he’d much rather have his hands climbing up under her dress and over her sinfully perfect thighs.
He presses against her, his pants doing very little to dull the sensation of the heat of her arousal.
She reaches for his belt, but he grabs her wrists and gently pulls them away.
Before she can look disappointed, or maybe even worried or apologetic, he mutters, “Got other plans for you first, sweetheart.”
There’s a mix of surprise and mostly arousal on her face at the pet name, but he doesn’t give her the chance to question him before he drops to his knees, holding her calf up to his lips as he kisses up towards her knee.
He watches her fingers curl around the piano’s edge as he sneaks one gentle bite in amongst the kisses. He creeps her dress up along with his lips, every inch of her revealed like a note in a melody he’s slowly piecing together, desperate to learn the song her body will play for him.
“Gonna let me taste you, Rebecca?” he whispers against her skin. “Let me make you feel good?”
“God yes,” she pants, parting her legs a little more and propping her feet on the bench behind him.
~RW~
The word “aroused” isn’t quite cutting it for Rebecca anymore. It’s not just a fluttering feeling pooling low in her stomach, not just the sensation of her leaking into her lace panties. It’s everywhere. Everything.
It’s the trail of goosebumps his fingers leave behind as he hikes her dress up to her hips. It’s the sting of his teeth and the soothing lave of his tongue against the inside of her thigh. It’s the weight of his eyes on hers, the single-minded focus he’s consuming her with. It’s the press of his fingers against her ass, and how they hook under the waistband of her underwear.
It’s the whispered, desperate question, and her breathless permission. It’s the slow drag of fabric down her legs, and the unmistakable honesty in his voice when he tells her just how beautiful she is.
It’s the first, torturous, slow swipe of his tongue over her wet cunt that draws a moan out of her so full she covers her mouth.
“Lemme hear you,” Ted pleads. “Sound as good as you taste.”
Rebecca drops her shaking hand back down, curling her fingers back around the edge of the laquered wood.
He’s steady, even, mouth wet and hot against her as he kisses her with that same gentleness that always leaves Rebecca feeling a little unsteady. His tongue glides between her lips, and his mouth closes around her clit, and then again. And again. And again.
It feels so good, she hardly hears the choked gasps he pulls from her throat. She hears his moans, though, every time he tastes her again, he hums against her, eyes fluttering shut no matter how hard he tries to keep them on her.
She has to imagine his jaw is starting to hurt a little at how many times it’s opened and closed, never speeding up, never slowing down. She’s certain he’d respond in a heartbeat if she asked for something different, something more, but it feels sooo good, and as much as he doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to make her come, he also doesn’t look to be stopping anytime soon.
One of her hands is lazily curled into his hair, and his eyes, hazy with want, are locked on hers. He nods and moans whenever she asks again if she tastes good – because it’s very sexy to hear him admit it again and again – and his eyes flutter for just a moment when she tells her how good he feels. Which is often.
As much as he isn’t rushing her to a finish, he never lets her relax too much, either. If her breath settles too much, her fingers loosen too much in his hair, or if she gets too quiet, he gives her clit a few hard sucks and his eyes crinkle around the corners when she curses or calls him a tease.
This time, though, it seems he’s decided he’s had enough of her sweet, slow undoing, because he doesn’t stop after a few.
“Fuck–” she chokes out as his lips seal around her, tongue flicking against her clit.
She hadn’t even noticed just how sensitive she’d gotten until now, but the – and she means this in the nicest possible way – fucker clearly does, and he’s taking full advantage.
He pushes her thighs back apart when she tries to clamp them around his head, and he looks up at her again, a hunger in his eyes that tells her she’d better keep them spread for him. She thinks he wants her to come even more than she does.
She hooks her legs around him, heels between his shoulder blades. He seems to like that, the fire in his eyes subsiding just a little when he can slide his hands back to her ass without her legs shutting on him again.
He gives her bottom a squeeze that feels like praise without ever taking his mouth off her. If she weren’t so focused on the orgasm building in her gut and pushing gasps out of her, and turning her knuckles white on the edge of the piano, she’d have a thought to spare on how the only time he’s ever told her, didn’t ask, told her – without even saying a word – to do something is when it’s about making her feel good. And he’s right, his lips and tongue do feel fucking good when she keeps herself open for him.
She curses, gasps his name, pleads for nothing that he isn’t already giving her, and tugs him by the hair until she comes on his tongue, hanging on to him for dear life as her climax hits like a bolt of lightning.
He doesn’t slow, not right away; he keeps sucking, though a little more gently, until she starts to squirm. Then he eases up, lapping softly at her release and moaning at the taste until he’s just as satisfied as she is.
“You’re incredible, y’know that?” he gasps when he finally pulls off her, wiping the slick from his chin with the back of his hand and catching his breath.
Rebecca can’t quite manage words yet, slumping back against the top of the piano, chest flushed and heaving. Why the fuck has she ever bothered letting anyone else do that before?
“Y’okay?” he asks, kissing the insides of her thighs and lowering her feet to the ground.
Rebecca nods, eyes shut as she reaches blindly for his jaw to pull him up.
He chuckles as he gets to his feet, gently brushing her tousled hair off her forehead and planting a kiss with his slightly swollen lips to her cheek, and his hands rub her waist soothingly.
“Sure? Look a little wrecked if I‘m bein’ honest.”
She opens her eyes to give him a playful glare.
“You don’t have to sound so proud about it,” she says.
“Mm, but I’m very proud.”
He smiles and leans down to kiss her, too quickly for her liking, so she pulls him in for another.
“Why don’t we get you some place a little comfier, hm?” he whispers. “Heard you got nice couches.”
“I do,” she chuckles. “I also have a nice bed.”
“Is that so?” Ted says, smiling slyly as he kisses her again.
“Mmhm,” she nods, hands snaking around to his ass to pull him closer between her legs.
“Well, I think you should mosey on up there, and I’ll grab you some water.” Ted kisses her cheek.
“Be quick.”
Ted nods and helps her down off the piano, collecting their not-quite-finished drinks and their discarded clothes.
They part ways in the hallway, Rebecca heading upstairs as Ted branches into the kitchen.
She collapses onto her back in bed the second she’s close enough, her body still humming, though she feels perfectly sated.
It’s hardly a minute later when she hears Ted’s voice from the hallway.
“Rebecca? Realized I dunno where your bedroom is,” he calls out.
“It’s at the end,” Rebecca calls back, chuckling.
A few moments later, his head pokes in, smiling at her.
“You’ve got a very nice laundry room and guest room.”
“Thank you,” Rebecca laughs, sitting up against the headboard as Ted sets their clothes on her chair and brings her the glass of water.
He sits on the edge of the bed, hand on her shin as she takes a few sips before placing the glass on her nightstand.
“Pretty as it is, sweetheart, you’re gonna wreck that dress keepin’ it on in bed,” he says.
“I think you’ve already taken care of that,” Rebecca chuckles, smoothing her hands over the wrinkles he caused hiking it up around her waist.
“That was for an important cause, though,” he says with a cheeky smile.
Rebecca huffs a laugh and rolls her eyes playfully before swinging her legs off the bed.
“Come on,” she says, grabbing his hand as she stands.
“Where we goin’?”
“You are going to help me with this dress you’re so concerned about,” she says, leading him to her en-suite.
“Ooh, yes ma’am,” he smiles, coaxing her to go a little faster.
~TL~
Her bathroom is about the same size as Ted’s bedroom, but it still manages to feel warm and cozy.
She leads him to a vanity at the end, a collection of hair and skin products and tools scattered in front of the illuminated mirror. She stops there, giving one little tug to his hand to get him to step behind her before she lets go.
He knows he’s meant to be taking it off, but he takes a few moments to admire the dress one last time on her. How the fabric flows over her curves, how it feels under his palms running over her waist.
She catches his eye in the mirror and smiles, giving her cheek to him for a little peck. He gives her a few, two on the cheek, one on the corner of her jaw, and a last one just below her ear as he slides one hand up her back to the top of her zipper.
He pulls it down slowly, eyes peeled on the trail of skin it leaves behind, just as smooth and flawless as the rest of her. It reaches the end, just above the swell of her ass, and his hands come up to the shoulder straps.
He watches her in the mirror, refusing to blink as he pulls them down and the dress starts to drop, revealing a lace, strapless bra first, then the dip of her sternum, and then her gorgeous stomach he wants his hands all over.
He catches her biting her lip, a slight red in her cheeks as the dress drops to the floor and pools at her feet.
“So beautiful, Rebecca,” he whispers, wrapping his arms around her from behind, smoothing his hands over her tummy, feeling her skin mould around his fingers as he pulls her back against him.
His dick is still achingly hard in his pants as he presses up against her ass, but he couldn’t care less about that right now, not with her in his arms looking this goddamn perfect.
He kisses his way from the back of one shoulder to the other, where she turns her head to meet his lips.
“Bra too,” she whispers.
He nods, kissing her once, twice more, before stepping back just enough to give him space to reach for the clasp of her bra.
It goes easily, and he admires her back first, every uninterrupted inch of it. The dimples at the bottom, the smooth indent of her spine running up to her gorgeous neck, and her strong shoulders.
Then he looks in the mirror, his hands on her waist as he takes in the sight of her completely bare for him.
“Just perfect,” he mutters, almost in disbelief.
Her nipples sit peaked on her perfect breasts, maybe from the cool air, maybe from his earlier endeavours. His hands wander up, a mind of their own as they move to cup her tits that fit like they’re made for him.
He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in and meets her eye again. She looks relaxed enough, but he realizes this may be a little daunting; he knows his gaze is heavy on her.
“Okay?” he whispers, kissing the side of her neck.
“Yeah,” she whispers back, hand coming up to curl in his hair and pull him in closer.
He thinks she must sense his slight worry, because she quietly adds, “You make me feel safe.”
He smiles softly and turns her around to face him, cupping her face between both hands and kisses her gently.
“Good,” he mutters.
Her hands come up his shirt, and she slowly undoes a button.
“Your turn?” she asks quietly.
“Yeah,” he nods, pulling back from her lips so he can watch her.
~RW~
Rebecca wants to be as gentle as he’d been in undressing her, because she’s never felt quite as cared for as she does right now. He’s tender and open, and as he does with everything, he does it without the expectation of it being anything more than a slow undressing and an intimate discovery of one another. She wants to give him the same.
She undoes the next button, the V of his neckline growing wider, deeper, revealing more of him to her. The dusting of brown and golden hair over his lovely chest, and his heart beating just below the skin.
She untucks the shirt from his pants as she makes her way down the buttons. His stomach is just as she’d imagined; hair thickening between his belly button and his belt buckle, and he’s solid with enough skin to hold. Warm skin just below the soft hair.
She peels the shirt off his shoulders and lets it drop to the floor with her dress. No point in pretending either of them was actually concerned about wrinkling their clothes.
“Look at you,” she smiles, gliding her hands up his chest and around to his back where she slides them down to his waistband.
He smiles softly, his eyes hesitant to meet hers as they keep dropping down.
“Okay?” she asks.
“Yeah. Very. Just– No one looks at me like this,” he says quietly.
Rebecca’s smile widens, but it softens too. It breaks her heart a little to hear his quiet confession, but it makes her happy to know she’s succeeding in making him feel the same way he’d made her feel.
“I do,” she whispers.
He meets her eye at that, cheeks reddening slightly as his lips curl higher.
“Yeah.”
He leans in and kisses her gently, pulling her closer until their bare chests press together. He’s warm and solid against her, arms tight around her waist.
She slides her hands down between them, not breaking the kiss as she undoes his belt buckle and pulls it free from the loops, dropping it to the tile with a clink.
He cups her cheeks, resting his forehead against hers as she undoes his trousers, and as soon as the fly is down, they drop to his feet.
He steps back out of them, and Rebecca’s eyes drop down. His cock is still very hard, the entire outline of it visible clear as day through the fabric of his black boxer briefs. She knows she’s standing naked in front of him right now, but she hasn’t even come close to touching him since before he’d gotten on his knees for her. Though that was clearly plenty arousing for him too.
She lets her eyes rake over him, admiring what she won’t have to imagine anymore. He’s fit, very fit, but if anything, the sight of him like this just makes him even more comforting to her.
“So handsome,” she smiles, kissing him softly.
“Thanks,” he mutters back.
“Want them on or off?” she asks, fingertips just barely toying at the top of his waistband.
“Uh.” He hesitates, tensing just a little bit.
It surprises her a little. He doesn’t really strike her as the type to be insecure about being naked. Especially since he’s already most of the way there and looks like, well, he looks like he could use a hand.
“Hey,” she says softly, cupping his cheeks and tilting his head to meet her eyes. “Doesn’t matter to me. You look very good, just like this.”
He nods quickly, smiling at her reassurance.
“Wanna take them off, but I don’t wanna do anythin’ else tonight,” he replies softly. “I mean– I really do, ‘cause look at you.” He smiles and leans back to admire her for a second before meeting her eye again. “But I kinda just wanna do one thing at a time? Save somethin’ new for next time?”
“That sounds perfect,” Recca smiles.
As much as she’d love to get her hands or mouth on him tonight, hell, she’d love to have him inside her right about now, she does really love the idea of taking things slow. Taking it one thing, one night at a time. It’ll give them something new to explore every time they want to for a while.
“And you really don’t have to take them off, Ted,” she adds.
“I know, but it’s gettin’ kinda uncomfy in there,” he chuckles.
Rebecca laughs and kisses him again, sliding her hands back down, slipping her fingers into the waistband and teasing around his waist.
“That’s not gonna make them any comfier,” he groans between kisses.
“Sorry,” she giggles softly before she relents and tugs them down.
He lets out a sigh of relief as she frees him, kissing her a little harder as he steps out of them.
He’s bigger than she would’ve guessed, thick and hard pressed between their stomachs as his hands drop to her waist and he starts walking them back towards her bedroom.
“Y’know,” he mumbles between kisses. “Said one new thing…” Another kiss. “But didn’t say anythin’ ‘bout…” Another. “Doin’ the same thing twice.”
Rebecca smiles against his lips, curling her fingers in his hair tighter at the thought.
“Mm. Should we go back downstairs?” she teases.
“Nuh-uh. Gotta find out how comfy this bed you’ve been braggin’ ‘bout is.”
Rebecca chuckles as Ted lays her back on the bed, crawling over her and slotting himself between her legs.
He takes his time moving his lips down her body, exploring every new inch on his way down. Sucking at her nipples, kissing over every rib, nipping at her hips, and everything else that makes her gasp until he finally finds himself back between her thighs.
He’s looser with it this time, testing out different rhythms, different patterns with his tongue. It’s clear to her that it’s as much about her pleasure as it is about him learning what makes her tick.
He seems plenty capable of feeding off her involuntary reactions, but she tries to give him a little more. Telling him when something feels particularly excellent. She plans on telling him when something doesn’t feel quite right, too, but, on the very rare occasion it happens, he always reacts to her body before she has a chance to say it out loud.
~TL~
Ted pulls his boxer briefs back on, smiling at Rebecca, who is wearing little lavender, silky sleep shorts and nothing else. Her hair is fanned out around her on the pillow, and her skin is dewy with moisturizer.
“Need anythin’ else?” he asks.
Rebecca shakes her head. “Just come here.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He crawls into bed next to her, collapsing onto his stomach, propping his chin on folded arms as Rebecca pulls the covers up to his waist.
She curls up on her side next to him, brushing the hair from his forehead before she starts gently rubbing his back.
He really wishes he didn’t need the reassurance, because he already knows the answer. He knows it in the way she’s looking at him right now, and the way she’s touching him. Gentle and soft, and just as comfortable as he is. He knows it, but he still has to ask anyway.
“You have a good night?” he whispers.
“Very good,” she replies gently.
He knows she could’ve chuckled, teased him for asking something with such an obvious answer, and it would’ve been fine – he’d probably laugh too – but he’s grateful she doesn’t.
“Couldn’t have been better,” she adds with a smile, her eyes drifting to where her fingertips are gently tracing the length of his spine.
He softens under her touch, melting into the bed as he looks at her. For once, he doesn’t really feel like saying anything. He just wants to lie here with her and listen to the sound of her breath and her nails when they move to gently scratch his scalp.
“Okay?” she asks quietly. “You’re getting awfully quiet on me.”
Ted nods and smiles. “Just comfy.”
Rebecca smiles back and shifts closer to him, pressing a kiss to his bare shoulder.
“Me too,” she whispers, brushing her nose against him.
He wonders how she knows him so well already. There’s a lot she doesn’t know, obviously, not much beyond the simple things you learn over dinner, but she knows the things he’s spent years trying to teach others. Spent years trying to teach Michelle without ever quite managing it.
She knows when to tease and when to be gentle, when to slow down and when to stop. She knows when to check in and whether she needs to be subtle about it or not.
She knows how to look at him, exactly the way she is now, holding him in her gaze, as warm and comforting as a hug, and make him feel, for the first time in years, like a page is turning. Make him feel like there’s something more than every other week with Henry and lonely nights at the Crown & Anchor.
And if she never gives him anything else? At least she will have given him this.
Ted rolls onto his side to face her and leans in to kiss her softly, holding her shoulder as he does. Her hand slides up to his cheek, fingers in the hair behind his ear, and she kisses him back. Long, slow kisses that drag into the next one.
By the time he finally pulls away, his hand is sitting in the hollow of her waist, his thumb brushing over her ribs as he lets out a deep, contented sigh and smiles at her.
“What are you doing this week?” she asks quietly, brushing her thumb over the corner of his moustache.
He doesn’t tell her he’s just waiting around for Friday to come so Henry’ll be back, just that he has a pretty empty week other than a virtual conference on Tuesday.
“What do you usually do when Henry’s not around?” she asks.
He doesn’t tell her, though he’s sure she could guess that he doesn’t get up to anything good.
“Nothin’ worth mentionin’,” he smiles faintly.
She frowns, just the tiniest bit, just a dip of her eyelids and a slight purse of her lips, but he notices.
“If you’re looking for something to do,” she says softly. “You could bring me lunch on Wednesday. It’s always a busy day.”
“I can do that,” Ted smiles.
He knows she’s asking for his benefit more than her own, because she knows him already. She knows that it’ll give him something to do, a day to look forward to other than Friday. He doesn’t think there’s any possible way she’d know that Wednesdays are usually when he’s worst, but the fact that she knows at all to give him something to do is telling enough.
“Any requests?” he asks.
Rebecca shakes her head. “Just simple.”
Ted nods. “Simple it is. Consider me your personal Uber Eats for Wednesday, ‘cept you don’t gotta worry ‘bout service fees or givin’ me a tip.”
“I’ll find some other way to repay you,” she teases, leaning in to kiss him.
“Think that’ll just ‘bout cover it,” Ted smiles against her lips before giving her one more.
“Easy man to please,” Rebecca chuckles.
That might’ve been true at one point, but it’s been a very long time since anyone has made him feel even remotely close to as good as she does.
“Maybe you’re just a real good kisser.”
“I don’t think it’s mutually exclusive.”
“Maybe not,” he mutters.
He pulls her a little closer by the waist before bringing the covers up to their shoulders.
~RW~
Rebecca kisses him once more before rolling over until her back is to him, pulling his arm around her waist so there’s no question about how close she wants him.
His moustache tickles as he brushes his lips over her shoulder, his hand squeezing at her tummy in the softest, most gentle way. No one’s ever held her there, not like this.
“Just gorgeous,” he mutters against her skin, almost more to himself.
Rebecca smiles into the dark, squeezing his arm that’s around her. She shifts back against him a little, the arch of her back following the curve of his body against her as he nuzzles into her neck, and she feels him take a deep breath.
He pulls her even closer in a way that feels like instinct to her, as though he always sleeps with her tucked against his chest.
His breath starts to steady against her back, the same even huffs that lulled her to sleep the other night.
“Night, Ted,” she whispers.
“Night, sweetheart,” he mutters.
She smiles as her eyes fall shut. She’s never been a big fan of petnames – they always felt almost tantalizing, condescending at times – but that was before she heard the word “sweetheart” fall from Ted’s lips.
She’s also never been a fan of falling asleep cuddling. It was always too hot, or someone’s limbs would go numb, but Ted is just cozy, and if his arm tucked under her neck is going numb, she’s not hearing any complaints.
She wakes to him slumped on his back behind her, one arm still tucked under her, his breathing still slow and steady.
It’s still early, only a little after six, but she’s always up at this hour, whether she plans to be or not.
She tries to move slowly, but he stirs a little when she shifts away from him, his hand under her twitching into a fist. She stills for a moment and waits until she sees him relax and tries again to get up.
Ted lets out a quiet, not-quite-fully-conscious whine and rolls over until his arm flops over her again.
“Ted,” she whispers, gently trying to pull his arm off.
“Cozy,” he mumbles against her back.
She chuckles quietly at his lazy protests.
“I’ll be right back,” she mutters, stroking his forearm with her thumb.
He groans a little, pulling her closer.
“Promise?”
“Yes, Ted, promise,” she smiles, rolling over in his arms.
His eyes aren’t even open, and she doesn’t think he’ll remember any of this happening, which makes it so much more precious that her heart can hardly take it.
His arm loosens around her as she kisses his cheek, and she finally manages to slip out of bed, sending Ted slumping onto his stomach.
She pads quietly to her bathroom to pee and brush her teeth, even though there’s no chance in hell a little morning breath would deter Ted from kissing her.
She watches him for a few moments through the doorway, the way he’s sprawled out in her bed, face half-smooshed into the pillow, the covers pulled down so his whole back is exposed in the first patch of morning light, and streaks of his brown hair look almost golden.
This would generally be about the time she wonders why the person is still here, but she thinks Ted being here in the morning is even better than him being here last night.
She crawls back into bed with him, pulling him in until he’s nestled against her bare chest, gently running her fingers through his hair.
“Gotta get up soon?” he mutters.
“No,” she replies quietly, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Lots of time. Sleep some more if you want.”
“Mm,” he hums, kissing the valley between her breasts as he slots his leg between hers.
She knows it’s partly because he’s barely even half-awake, but she can’t help but smile at just how quickly he’s gotten this comfortable with her.
Not that he’s been reserved about touching her wide awake, but this is more vulnerable. Her arms around him, rubbing his back and stroking his hair, pressed into her skin he only discovered for the first time not twelve hours ago.
She can see it in the daylight, how he’s scared of wanting things, scared of being cared for, but that part of him isn’t awake yet, so she’ll savour every second she gets to hold him like this.
It’s been at least since university, if ever, that she’s had the chance to just hold someone or be held. She always found her physical comforts in friends more often than lovers. But even that is never like this. It’s not skin to skin in the wee hours of the morning. It’s not lazy kisses to the crown of his head, or his hot breath against her heartbeat.
This is all a first for her. Something she didn’t even know she needed. Something she’s not sure anyone but Ted would ever be able to bring out of her.
He drifts in and out of sleep a few more times until he’s up for good just before eight.
He slumps out of her arms, stretching out with a dramatic yawn and a series of grunts before his eyes open and land on her.
“Mornin’ sunshine,” he says, lips spreading in a lazy smile.
Rebecca snorts and leans over to kiss him in an attempt to hide her blush from him.
“Mm,” he hums against her lips. “Even better than coffee.”
His voice is still a little deeper than usual, and it’s almost unfairly hot.
“You’re such a flirt,” she teases, shifting closer to him and gliding a hand over his ribs.
“Is it workin’?” he smiles, and hooks his arm around her, pulling until she’s half on top of him.
She nips his lip in retaliation and straddles him fully, gently grabbing his jaw when he tries to lean up to kiss her properly.
“Take that as a yes,” he says as his hands find her waist.
It takes a lot out of Rebecca not to just fuck him right now. His little smile between her fingers on his cheeks. The feigned innocence in his eyes, as if he doesn’t know what he’s doing, and the way he pulls her down just a little onto his morning wood.
He’s being a bit of a brat, actually.
“Ted,” she mutters, leaning down to kiss him. “I’m perfectly alright with waiting as long as you want. But if you keep doing that, it’s going to make it very hard.”
“Already is very hard,” he whispers between kisses, rolling his hips up to emphasize his point.
Fucker
“I know.” Her voice is just a little breathless.
She lets out a soft moan when he does it again, her thighs tensing as she clenches over the hard line of his cock.
“Ted–” she breathes, squeezing his cheeks a little tighter.
“Those are some real pretty sounds, sweetheart,” he mutters, jaw clenching under her fingertips as he grinds her down.
She hisses in a breath. Even through her sleep shorts and his boxers, she can feel the head of his dick when it rubs under her clit.
“Ted–” she gasps this time, grabbing his chest with her free hand.
“That feel good?” He pulls her down harder against him. “‘Cause it feels real good for me, Rebecca.”
“Fuck Ted,” she moans as he grinds her against his dick again and again.
It’s too much and not nearly enough. She needs to feel him, needs the clothes gone, needs–
“Ted enough–” she pants.
He relents immediately, loosening his grip as he lifts her just barely off his stilling hips.
She’s happy to see his breath is just as shaky as hers as she lets go of his jaw.
“Okay?” he asks, reaching up to brush her hair back.
She swallows hard as she nods, sitting back down just above the waistband of his boxers.
“Sure?” he asks again. “‘Cause if you need somethin’, I’ll give it to you. I was bein’ a bit of a tease.”
“A bit?” she chuckles and glares playfully. “But no. I want to wait. Just like you said.”
“Okay,” he smiles and pulls her down for a light, chaste kiss. “Why don’t we go get some breakfast and try not to think ‘bout all the things we wanna do.”
“I think I can manage half of that,” Rebecca chuckles and kisses him again.
She kisses him twice more because she can’t help it, before she rolls off of him and lets him up.
She watches him walk to her bathroom. Surprisingly nice arse on the man.
She waits in bed until he returns, brushing his hair back off his forehead before his hands land on his hips.
“Well, how’s about we go and make today our masterpiece.”
It’s a little unsettling to her how badly she wants to fuck him.
~TL~
Ted opens Rebecca’s fridge to find concerningly little. It’s even worse than his own on weeks without Henry.
“What the heck do you eat?” he asks.
Rebecca – sitting at the counter in a red silk gown with a mug of tea between her hands – shrugs.
“Ran out of oranges yesterday morning.”
“When’d you run out of everythin’ else?” Ted chuckles and shuts the fridge door. “How the heck am I supposed to make you breakfast?”
“You already made me tea,” Rebecca smiles at him as she takes a sip.
“You did most of the work,” Ted argues.
“Only because you were about to microwave my water,” Rebecca chuckles.
Ted waves her off with a smile and peruses through some pantry cabinets. “You got bakin’ stuff somewhere?”
“You’re not baking for me, Ted.”
“I’m bakin’ for myself, and maybe I’ll have enough to share.”
Rebecca gives him a playful glare he’s grown rather fond of, and takes a deep breath as she tries not to smile at him.
“There.” She points to a floor-to-ceiling cupboard at the end of the counter. “It’s probably mostly expired.”
Ted smiles at her and wanders over to the cabinet. He opens it and plants his hands on his bare hips, trying to find something he can work with.
Just under an hour later, he’s pulling a cooking sheet of ham and cheese scones out of the oven.
“How the fuck did you manage that?” Rebecca asks as he sets them down to cool.
“Well, first I put the flour in the bowl…” Ted teases, earning another eyeroll from Rebecca.
“You are exceptionally bold this morning, Ted Lasso,” Rebecca scolds him playfully.
She has a point, though. He’s been feeling a lot lighthearted this morning since waking up nuzzled into Rebecca’s chest. He doesn’t remember how he wound up there, and at first, he’d worried it’d be a little much, but then her lips pressed to the top of his hair, and her fingers traced his spine, and he figured she’d been enjoying it just as much as he was.
So he doesn’t overthink anything this morning, he just does what feels right, what makes her smile, what makes her kiss him, and doesn’t think so much about what if. Or, at the very least, he does a better job of ignoring the part of his mind that does.
He plates a couple of scones for each of them and slides into the stool next to Rebecca.
“You’re also very sweet this morning,” she smiles, kissing his cheek and settling her hand on his back.
“We’ll see about that. I did have to take some creative liberties with the recipe,” Ted chuckles.
He breaks open his scone, a little steam curling up into the air, and takes a bite, chewing thoughtfully with a nod of his head.
“Verdict?” Rebecca asks, breaking open her own.
“I’ll let you be the judge, but I’m thinkin’ of applyin’ to be on Masterchef,” Ted jokes and takes another bite.
Rebecca takes a bite and then takes a long, dramatic pause, lips twitching as she makes him wait for a reaction. He raises his brows, tilting his head in anticipation.
“It’s delicious,” she reveals and gives him a peck. “Thank you.”
Ted makes his way through breakfast a little faster than Rebecca and packs up the rest of the scones in a container for her before getting started on the dishes.
Once she finishes her tea, Rebecca comes up behind him, wrapping her arms around his middle and kissing his neck.
“You don’t have to do that, Ted, my housekeeper is coming later,” she whispers as she rests her chin on his shoulder.
“I don’t mind,” Ted assures her.
“I do,” she replies.
Ted turns his head and arches an eyebrow at her. He has a hard time believing she actually has an issue with it.
“Because I have a student coming in an hour.” She kisses just below his ear. “And I’d like for you to come shower with me before you go.”
Oh.
“Oh,” Ted smiles. “That’s a very good reason.”
Rebecca nips his earlobe before letting go and hurrying towards the staircase, Ted following quickly behind.
He watches her robe drop to the floor in her bedroom, and her silk shorts follow soon after as he scrambles out of his boxers.
The water is hot, fogging the glass wall of her shower, but the tile wall is cool where he plants his hand on it, caging her in as his lips find hers. His other hand drops to her ass, sliding under her thigh to hike it up around his waist so he can press himself firmly against her.
There’s a part of him – the part that’s making out with a naked and wet Rebecca Welton in her shower – that wishes he hadn’t said all that stuff about taking it one step at a time and not rushing.
Another part of him is enjoying it; the anticipation, the teasing, the electricity of their touches, how desperately they kiss, grab, and hold.
A last part – the important part – is enjoying learning her slowly. Learning how her hand feels in his, how her body moulds against him. How she laughs, how she smiles, how she says things. Who she is, what she does, how she treats him.
He did also definitely enjoy learning what she looks like when she comes on his tongue, but he’s enjoying the wait to find out all the other ways they’ll learn to make each other come undone even more.
~RW~
Rebecca follows a single drop of water down his neck, over his chest – briefly catching in his hair – around his navel, and into the trimmed hair at the base of his half-hard dick.
He doesn’t notice. His head is tipped back, eyes shut as the stream of water rinses the conditioner from his hair, his fingers running through it. Her eyes flick back up just as his open, and he smiles at her.
“What’s next?” he asks.
“This.” She hands him a bottle of face scrub. “For your face. It’ll make it softer.”
“Fancy,” he says, squeezing a dollop onto his fingers.
“It’s not fancy,” she chuckles, setting the bottle back down on the ledge. “It’s just skincare.”
He lathers the soap between the pads of his fingers and starts rubbing his face.
Recca interrupts quickly, grabbing his wrists. “Gentle. You’re not trying to scrape your face off, I quite like it.”
Ted just smiles as she lowers his hands and takes over herself, gently rubbing the scrub over his cheeks, then his chin and his forehead, and using the pads of her thumb to get his nose.
“That does feel nicer, actually,” he mutters.
“I know,” she whispers, leaning in to kiss him before she tilts his head back to rinse it off.
“Your turn,” he says, reaching for the bottle.
“I don’t trust you at all after seeing your attempt just now,” Rebecca jokes, but she doesn’t stop him from pouring the scrub onto his fingers.
“I know how to do it now, I’ll be gentle,” he smiles.
She closes her eyes and leans her face just a little closer to him. He uses two fingertips on either side of her face, following the arc of her brows, the curves of her cheeks as he rubs it in.
He’s gentle. Of course he’s gentle.
He’s careful under her eyes, not getting too close, and drags a single finger down her nose and across the bridge.
“I was wonderin’ how you got so soft,” he whispers with a kiss when he finishes.
“Secret’s out,” Rebecca smiles and rinses the suds off her face.
She wraps her arms around him, not quite wanting to admit that it’s time to get on with her day and send Ted on his way.
Ted must sense it, because of course he does, and peppers her cheek with kisses until she unburrows herself from the crook of his neck and kisses him back.
“You can’t come back tonight?” she asks quietly.
“Sorry, sweetheart, wish I could,” he mutters. “Need to do some prep for tomorrow, then got an early start.”
“I know.”
He’d already told her twice this morning, but she’s still half-hoping for a different answer.
“I’ll call you before I go to sleep,” he assures her. “And I’ll see you Wednesday for lunch.”
“Yeah,” she smiles and kisses him again. “And Ted.” She raises a stern brow at him. “When I said simple, I meant simple. Just a sandwich or something.”
“Maybe with a side?” he asks, lips curling up.
“One.” She pokes his chest to emphasize it. “One simple side.”
“Deal.”
His walk of shame outfit is a good look on him. Dress shirt undone at the top and haphazardly tucked into the top of his slacks, jacket and tie slung over his forearm.
“Thanks for everythin’ last night,” he mutters between quick pecks.
“Thank you,” she whispers back, reaching for the front door handle.
He steps slowly back onto her front porch, his index still hooked around hers.
“Wednesday,” he says as though he’s trying to remind himself it’s not that far away.
“Wednesday,” she repeats, doing the same.
He quickly steps back into her house to give her one last kiss, squeezing her hand before he lets go.
He keeps glancing back at her until he’s a quarter of the way across the Green, and she finally closes the door, leaning back against it with a happy sigh.
Maybe it’s because they’re older, or maybe it’s just because it’s Ted, but she doesn’t remember dating being so easy.
Neither of them is playing hard to get or trying to prove their worth with disingenuous gestures. It’s just comfortable, new and fresh, and familiar all at once.
And it’s not all the excitement of something new, with butterflies and stolen glances and brushing fingers – though it does have all that. But it’s more relaxed than that, more settled.
It’s relaxed when she holds him in the morning, and when he steals one more kiss before he goes, and when she wishes he could come back tonight.
It’s settled when she falls asleep to his breath hot on her back, and when she invites him to shower just because, and when she can look him in the eye and know how he’s feeling.
It’s easy, and maybe it’s because they’re older, but she thinks it’s just because it’s Ted.
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Relationship: Ted Lasso x Rebecca Welton
Chapter Rating: Teen
Summary: Ted hires one Rebecca Welton as Henry’s new piano teacher.
Chapter length: 10k
III.
~RW~
Rebecca isn’t sure how Ted managed to slip out of bed without waking her; she’s usually a light sleeper. The room is quiet, but she hears the faint sound of coffee brewing and the smell is wafting through the hazy morning light seeping through the curtains. The bed is still warm next to her, partly left over from Ted – he’s very cozy – partly from the patch of sunlight on the sheets.
She stretches out like a cat, burying her face in the smell of him on his pillow and takes a moment for herself. Not just relaxed, but safe.
She hasn’t stayed over with a man since the divorce, and she hasn’t enjoyed waking up in a bed that isn’t hers since slumber parties as a girl.
She pads barefoot from the carpet of his bedroom to the tile of his bathroom, checking herself quickly in the mirror, though she doesn’t feel one ounce of insecurity about Ted seeing her slight bedhead and puffy eyes.
She doesn’t remember the last time she looked so simple in the mirror. Not in a bad way, but in a very refreshing way. A beautiful way, in fact. Silk pyjamas that probably cost more than they should traded in for Ted’s baggy boxers and loose, faded tee. No eye masks sitting just above her cheeks. She does kind of miss her cooling wand, but a cloth wet with cold water will do the trick this morning.
Rebecca wanders down the hall towards the kitchen. Ted hasn’t turned on any lights, but the cozy sun coming through the living room windows brightens up the space perfectly.
He doesn’t notice her right away, so she doesn’t intrude on his routine. She just leans against the end of the archway to his kitchen and watches him, his back to her as he mixes something in a bowl, patches of flour on the counter on either side of it. There’s no tension in his shoulders beyond the effort of mixing, which Rebecca takes to be a good sign that last night’s panic attack has all but left him.
He’s added a pair of worn tan slippers to his look. Simple, like her right now. Homey and comfortable.
“Morning, Ted,” she says softly, pushing herself off the wall and slowly walking over to him.
He turns his head and smiles, the usual worry in his eyes a little diluted by their sleepiness and something tender.
“Morning, Rebecca,” he replies, his voice a little rough from sleep. “You sleep okay?”
“Amazing,” she smiles, coming up to him and resting her hand between his shoulder blades. “Don’t know how on earth you didn’t wake me up getting out of bed.”
“I’m kind of an expert and not disturbin’ people when they look extra cozy,” Ted chuckles, still mixing the batter in his bowl as Rebecca starts to rub gentle circles on his back.
“Apparently,” she chuckles lazily. “Are you feeling better this morning?”
“Yeah,” he nods. “Lots. Sometimes I still get a heavy chest in the mornings after, but not today.”
“Good,” she smiles and gives his shoulder a squeeze before dropping her hand away. “Can I help with anything?”
Ted shakes his head. “Got it under control. Coffee’s ready if you want some,” he says, pointing to the pot in the corner with his wooden spoon. “Mugs are up there.” He points to the cabinet just above.
“Ooh, yes, please,” she says, taking the few steps over towards it.
His mug collection is rather different from Rebecca’s sleek ceramics. There are a couple of KC Chiefs ones, a “World’s Greatest Dad” one, a LEGO minifigure head, and a Joe Cool Snoopy one.
She grabs a Chiefs mug for herself to match her t-shirt and the dad one for Ted, pulling it down to find that Henry has painted “Love you, Dad” on the blank side.
“Sugar or cream?” she asks, pouring the two mugs.
“Just a sprinkle, please,” he says, nudging his bag of sugar towards her. “Cream in the fridge if you want any.”
Rebecca adds a little sugar to his mug and leaves hers black, bringing them both over to his counter where she takes a seat on a stool, warming her palms on the mug.
“Waffles work for you?” Ted asks, pouring some batter into his waffle maker.
Rebecca nods and smiles as she takes a sip of her coffee.
While the waffle is cooking, Ted grabs a bowl of berries he warmed in the microwave and another bowl of whipping cream from the fridge.
“Help yourself,” he says, procuring a couple of spoons and a third, empty bowl.
She thanks him quietly.
A few moments later, he’s sliding a waffle on a plate in front of her.
“Is that…” she asks, eyeing it.
“Yeah,” he chuckles. “Henry’s been real into Star Wars lately.”
“I like it,” she smiles and slides her Death Star waffle closer to herself, piling a little cream and berries on top as Ted moves on to make his own.
She can’t remember the last time she’s had an actual home-cooked breakfast. She usually either has a croissant and a fruit of some sort at home, or she goes to the cafe around the corner. Ted’s cooking tastes much better.
He joins her at the counter a few minutes later, and it just feels… right. The silence isn’t awkward, not an empty space to fill, just comfortable as they both wake up over waffles and coffee.
He offers her a second when she finishes, and she declines.
She offers to help with the dishes, and he declines.
She stays at the counter as he soaps down the plates, admiring the way his hair falls over his temple, the slight flex of his forearm, the little bit of stubble on his cheeks. Not quite as relaxed as he looks while asleep, but not as anxious as she’s used to.
“I was thinkin’ maybe you and I could go out for dinner sometime,” he says, keeping his eyes on the sink.
“Funny, I was thinking the same thing,” Rebecca smiles, draining the last of her coffee and sliding the mug over to him.
“Yeah?” he lights up a little and looks up at her.
“Yes,” she says, blushing ever so slightly at the sight of him perking up from something as simple as dinner. “I’m afraid I have lessons pretty much all day, starting in about…” She checks the clock on the oven. “An hour. Tomorrow night?”
She’s not really concerned about sounding too eager given the fact that she’s wearing his clothes right now over breakfast.
“Tomorrow sounds pretty perfect if you ask me,” Ted smiles, stacking a dish on the drying rack.
“Can I pick the restaurant?”
“Heck yeah, you just lemme know where and when to show up and how fancy I should look when I get there,” Ted smiles and dries his hands off.
Rebecca smiles and nods, and starts mentally planning the evening.
She’s going to have him looking very fancy because she’d very much like to spoil him a little tomorrow night.
“Mind if I use your shower before I go?” she asks.
“Course, lemme find you a towel.”
Ted gestures with a tilt of his head for her to follow him back to his bedroom, stopping in the hallway to grab two towels from the linen closet before leading her to his bathroom.
“Tap’s a little finicky sometimes,” he says. “Usually gotta give it a minute or two to settle on the right temperature.”
He sets the towels down on the vanity, and Rebecca notices he’s careful not to look at her bra and panties lying out from last night.
“Thank you, Ted,” she smiles and gives his shoulder a quick rub.
“Shampoo’s– well, I’m sure you can read,” he chuckles sheepishly.
“One of my many talents,” Rebecca jokes and turns the shower on.
“Okie dokie then, same as yesterday, holler if you need anythin,” Ted smiles, drumming his thighs quickly before he steps out, shutting the door behind him.
Rebecca isn’t entirely sure why she chose to shower here instead of at her own place. It’s definitely partly just wanting to spend a little longer with Ted, but she also thinks there’s something incredibly intimate about cleaning herself, being naked in his space. Even though he’s not witnessing it, they’re still connected in a way, and she likes it.
~TL~
Ted, on the other hand, is struggling a little with the thought of Rebecca naked on the other side of the door. Not that he isn’t also enjoying the comfortable domesticity of it. It’s just… she’s naked in there, and wet and soapy, and probably can’t quite reach a spot in the middle of her back that he could get so easily.
He stands flatfooted in front of the door for a few long moments before he finally pries himself away, freshening up quickly in Henry’s bathroom before plopping himself down on the couch in the living room. Far enough that he can only just hear the water running now.
He hasn’t had the time yet to appreciate just how easily the morning had been to him. Lying awake for a while while Rebecca slept, just watching how comfortable she looked, his arm tucked under her, the glow of her skin in the morning light.
There’d been a moment last night when he almost didn’t ask her to come upstairs, because he was worried it’d be too much to put on her. She’d already come after him, calmed him down, and he was worried about asking for more.
But then he thought about the way Henry talks about her. After lessons, either at the Crown & Anchor or on FaceTime, he always talks about how unafraid he is to make mistakes with her. How easy it is to take a second and try again, how patient she is, and how easy it is to ask her for help.
And Ted needed help last night. He’d never say it out loud, but he needed someone to just… be there. Someone to hold. And there she was, patient and kind without a hint of hesitation. Not just willing, but happy and genuine.
He spent a long time deciding whether or not to wait for her to wake up or go get breakfast started, and eventually slipped out as quietly and gently as he could to make his way to the kitchen.
Usually, without Henry, he has a coffee and maybe some cold leftovers. He can never bring himself to make an actual breakfast when it's just him. It’d been easy to fall into the routine of a nice breakfast with Rebecca sleeping in his bed.
Not just for her, either. He wants to take care of himself a little better, knowing she’s there, and having seen just how quickly she jumped to take care of him last night, how often she’s checked in. She likes how much she cares, and would like her to have to do it a little less.
She likes how little she draws attention to it, too. If she’s worried, she doesn’t let it show. She’s calm and gentle, reassuring him quickly, and when she sees he’s okay, she moves on, doesn’t linger on the lows. Just a gentle rub of his back, a quick check in, and then right into breakfast.
He’s met the kind of people who try to fix him, and it’s generally much less helpful. Rebecca doesn’t coddle him or try to do things for him. She’s just there. A steady hand to hold and breath to follow. She’s there this morning and will be again tomorrow night.
And he won’t be wondering when he’ll see her next, if he has to wait for Friday to come. And he won’t be half in the bag, and he won’t be wondering if he’s allowed to tell her she looks beautiful.
She looks pretty beautiful right now as she emerges into the living room, dressed in her jeans and blouse from yesterday, scrunching her damp hair up against her head.
Ted gets to his feet quickly, smiling at her as she comes over.
“Shower work okay for you?” he asks.
“Perfect,” she smiles and brushes her hair back. “I’m sorry I can’t stay longer.”
Ted quickly gives her a dismissive wave. “Hey, just happy I got to have breakfast with you.”
“Thank you, by the way, it was delicious.”
“Anytime you want some Death Star waffles, you know where to find me,” Ted chuckles as they head to his front door.
“And I must admit, my exceptions for silk pyjamas last night were pretty comfy.”
“‘M glad,” Ted smiles, holding a hand out instinctively for balance as she slips her sneakers on. “You looked pretty darn good in ‘em.”
Rebecca chuckles as she straightens up to face him, not letting go of his hand.
“I’ll see you tomorrow night?” she says.
“Yes, ma’am,” Ted smiles. “Just when, where and how fancy,” he reminds her.
Rebecca nods, and there’s a soft little sparkle of excitement in her eye. She leans in and presses a soft kiss to his cheek, and she doesn’t pull back all the way, letting Ted turn his head to catch her lips in a slow, chaste but lingering kiss.
“See you tomorrow,” she whispers, letting go of his hand and quickly combing her fingers through his hair, cupping his cheek gently on her way back down.
Ted smiles and nods, opening the door for her.
“Have yourself a good day, Rebecca. Thanks for everythin’ last night.”
“Course, Ted.” She smiles softly at him before she heads down the stairs.
Ted watches her go until she’s out of sight, gently shutting his door with a soft click.
Even now that she’s gone, Ted still feels lighter, and for once, he spends the day taking care of himself.
He does the three loads of laundry it takes to get through his hamper. He tidies the living room and cleans up in his bedroom. He treats himself with a visit to the barber for a trim, partly to feel better about himself, and also because there’s no way in hell he’s going on a date with Rebecca Welton tomorrow night and not cleaning himself up just a little.
When he collapses into his bed that night, it doesn’t feel quite as empty as usual, the faint smell of her still lingering on the pillow. His phone dings on his nightstand, Rebecca’s name lighting up the screen.
[10:17 PM]
Hi Ted, sorry, meant to text earlier. Busy day.
Abacus tomorrow at 6pm 😊
Wear a tie
Just a tie? Doesn’t seem very appropriate
She reacts with a HAHA to his message.
Might pair nicely with a suit.
Picky. I’ll see what I can dig up
Good day?
Lovely. Especially the morning ☺️
You?
Morning was definitely my favorite 😁
Got a lot done today though thanks to you
Thanks to me?
Yeah
Helped a lot not having to go through last night alone
Happy to have been there, Ted.
Glad you’re feeling better ❤️
Me too
Looking forward to tomorrow night 😁😁
He doesn’t remember the last time he actually was looking forward to a first date.
Me too ☺️
Gonna have to let you go eyes aren’t staying open very well
Goodnight Rebecca 😴
Goodnight, Ted.
See you tomorrow ☺️
😁😁😁
Ted spends most of the day counting down the minutes until six o’clock.
He takes extra care trimming his moustache and shaving the stubble of his beard, and he spends more than his usual twenty seconds styling his hair, combing it back and to the side.
Then he pulls his suit out of the back of his closet. He hasn’t worn it in years. Nothing overly fancy, just plain black wool, but nicely tailored, and he pairs it with a red tie with light pink polka-dots.
He looks pretty good, if he may say so himself, and it’s nice to get dressed up. He hasn’t gone beyond business casual in years. It makes him feel better, more put together.
The restaurant is only about a fifteen-minute walk away, but he takes a detour to pick up a bouquet of white and pink lilies on his way.
It’s five to six when he shows up at the fanciest restaurant he’s ever laid eyes on. Two-story floor-to-ceiling windows, crystal chandeliers, dark oak tables and matching chairs with black cushions.
Every table has people in suits and, at the very least, cocktail dresses. Ted feels a little out of place, even though he’s dressed well enough for the venue; he sort of wishes he’d worn a plain black tie.
He takes a seat on a bench a little way from the entrance, checking his phone to see if there’s anything from Rebecca. They’d texted a little today, just a morning check-in, more excitement for this evening. The last message is a “see you soon” from Rebecca just over an hour ago, to which he responded with a GIF of a cat in a suit.
He sits for two, maybe three minutes, before a white Rolls-Royce pulls up. A driver steps out and walks around to open the back passenger door.
Ted sees the heel first. Black, tall and pointed. Then a bit calf, toned and pale, before the dress comes into view. It’s stunning. Black. Satin maybe? There’s a slit that runs up her right leg until a few inches above the knee, and the fabric is form-fitting at her waist. The creases look intentional, sewn into the fabric at her stomach and hips. The neckline is low, but not plunging, and the straps are thin.
Then her face rises above the car door, and there she is. Has he mentioned that she keeps getting prettier?
Rebecca’s hair is pinned up in the back, the front parted on the left and flowing over to frame the right side of her face. She smiles and says something he can’t hear to her driver as she steps up onto the sidewalk, and Ted has to remind himself that that divine sight of a woman is here to see him, which means he should probably get up and go over to her.
It takes him a moment to get his feet to work, but he does make his way over as she looks around for him.
“Rebecca,” he says from a few feet away.
She spins to face him, smiling quickly before her expression turns almost awestruck in a way that makes Ted feel really good.
“Ted Lasso,” she says, her eyes quickly running over him. “My god.”
“Right back at you,” he smiles, bigger than he has in a while without Henry. “You are wearin’ the heck out of that.”
“Thank you,” she smiles, taking a step closer to him. “You look very handsome.”
She quickly smooths his lapel, and he holds the flowers out to her.
“For you,” he says. “Though, I’m now realizin’ this is not a very convenient place to have flowers.”
“Perfect place to have flowers, thank you, Ted. They’re lovely.”
She smiles and lets him keep holding them, hooking her arm into his and leading him towards the entrance.
“How the heck you get us in here? Doesn’t seem like a ‘day before reservation’ kinda place,” Ted says quietly as a doorman opens the large glass door for them.
“I own the building,” Rebecca explains simply.
“Oh, yeah, no, that’ll do it,” Ted chuckles.
He’d sort of forgotten she wasn’t just fancy and elegant by nature, but also filthy rich. The Rolls-Royce with the driver had been the first tip of the night. It’s the first time she’s been showy at all with her wealth, though Ted is sure that if he checked the labels on outfits he’s seen her in, they’d probably prove to be a lot fancier than a first look would let on.
He likes that she’s not showy about it, even with the dress and the car and the entire restaurant, money just seems to be something she happens to have. Not status or symbol. In the same way he has a Death Star waffle maker. The kind of wealth that still has her in jeans at the Crown and Anchor on a Friday night instead of a country club. The kind of wealth that means she could do quite literally anything, and she chooses to teach kids piano and take Ted out to dinner.
“Miss Welton,” the host says as they approach. “Lovely to see you.”
“Thank you, Marcus. Is the chef’s table available? I usually try to give a little more notice, but this just came up,” Rebecca smiles, and she squeezes Ted’s arm as his cheeks flush a tiny bit.
“Not a problem, Miss Welton, it’s all yours,” Marcus says before he leads Ted and Rebecca towards a large booth that could fit at least six guests just beside the kitchen.
Ted holds Rebecca’s hand, helping her into the bench before sliding in next to her.
“And could you grab us a vase for these, please?” Rebecca says, gesturing to the bouquet in Ted’s hands.
“Of course, Miss Welton,” Marcus nods before hurrying off.
“So he gets to call you Miss Welton,” Ted says with a teasing smile.
“Shut it,” Rebecca snaps playfully, giving Ted’s thigh a little tap.
“Gonna be honest,” Ted says, looking around the elegant dining room. “This place kinda makes every other restaurant I’ve been to feel like a Golden Corral.”
“What on earth is a Golden Corral?” Rebecca chuckles.
“Oh, it’s– Well, it ain’t this, that’s for sure,” Ted says, turning back to Rebecca.
“It’s not too much, is it?” Rebecca asks.
“No,” Ted replies quickly. “It’s great. Nice gettin’ all dressed up too.”
“And I see you wisely added a suit to your tie,” Rebecca jokes, running a hand down his tie as she does.
It makes Ted’s heart skip a beat, and his breathing stops until her hand pulls away.
“Just tryin’ to leave a good impression,” he jokes, voice slightly strained.
“Mission accomplished,” Rebecca smiles.
They look at each other for a moment before Marcus returns with a glass vase and takes the flowers from Ted, placing them just beside the candles in the center of the table.
“Shall I list our wines, Miss Welton?” he asks as he pours their waters.
“No, I’ll just have the Sauvignon Blanc as usual, the 2019,” Rebecca replies.
Marcus nods, “And for you, Sir?”
“Whiskey neat, please and thank you,” Ted says.
Marcus nods again and leaves them to it.
“I’ve already used up all my first date questions on you,” Ted jokes, turning to face Rebecca.
“We’ll just have to get into the really deep stuff,” Rebecca says playfully. She leans foreward to grab a sip of water, and when she sits back, her shoulder is touching his.
“Mm,” Ted smiles. “Alright then. Let’s see… okay, gimme this. First concert, best concert?”
“Oh, that’s way too personal,” Rebecca replies, mockingly serious.
“Hey, you asked for it.” He raises his hands in surrender.
“I wouldn’t have had I known you’d be so nosy.”
Ted laughs lightly and nudges her shoulder, coaxing an answer out of her.
“It was the Spice Girls and… the Spice Girls.”
“Same answer for both?” Ted says excitedly. “That the truth? Or you just scared to divulge too much?”
“It’s the truth,” Rebecca chuckles. “Your turn.”
“I mean, come on. It was ‘The Gambler’ himself, Mr. Kenny Rogers,” Ted says. “‘88, Kemper Arena. Me and my dad.”
“Oh, that’s a very good one,” Rebecca nods approvingly.
“And best one?” Ted ponders for a moment. “Shania Twain,” he decides.
“Seriously?” Rebecca asks, chuckling in surprise.
“Heck yeah,” Ted smiles. “Best thing to come out of Canada since peanut butter.”
Rebecca laughs, pure, warm, and free. Her head tips back a little, smile widening along with it. Ted’s own expression softens, lips curled up just a tad as his eyes brighten. As Rebecca’s laugh subsides, she notices him watching.
“What?” she asks, cheeks pinking slightly.
“Nothin’,” Ted says, holding her gaze, lips curling higher. “You’re just pretty, is all.”
Rebecca’s cheeks flush a little more, expression softening. Her hand comes up to Ted’s back, resting between his shoulders.
“Thank you,” she says softly.
“Course,” Ted smiles, shoulders relaxing under her touch.
When her hand slides back down, Ted, before he can overthink it, reaches out and laces their fingers together, holding her hand in the tiny gap between their thighs. She squeezes his hand before she starts rubbing her thumb over the back of it.
Marcus returns a few moments later with their drinks, setting them down gently.
“Anything else I can get either of you?” he asks.
Ted shakes his head, and Rebecca says, “No, thank you, Marcus.”
The waiter nods and flashes a polite, professional smile before leaving them again.
“Well,” Ted says, reaching for his glass with his free hand as Rebecca does the same. “Don’t wanna get too far ahead of myself, but… to a very nice first date.”
He smiles and raises his whiskey to Rebecca’s wine, her expression mirroring his.
“Definitely very nice,” she says, clinking her glass to his.
Ted keeps smiling as he takes a sip, his eyes lingering on Rebecca’s lips for a moment on the rim of her glass, thinking about how they feel on his.
He lets out a low, approving whistle as he sets his glass down.
“That is some darn good sippin’ right there,” he says.
Rebecca nods in agreement, toying with the stem of her glass absentmindedly.
“How many of these you own?” Ted asks, gesturing to the restaurant.
“I sold off most of the buildings,” she explains. “Kept this because I love the food too much. But I have a few flats downtown, and a villa in northern Italy.”
“Ooh, fancy. Never been.”
“Oh, it’s lovely. I mostly rent it out, but I try to visit once a year,” Rebecca says, taking another sip of wine.
“How come you sold everythin’ else off? If you don’t mind my askin’.”
“I’m sure everyone thinks I did it to stick it to Rupert, tear down his legacy and take the cash or whatnot,” Rebecca says, waving a hand.
“Well, I didn’t ask everyone,” Ted says, smiling at her.
“No, you didn’t,” Rebecca gives him a soft, playful look. “Honestly? I just couldn’t be arsed with managing it all.”
“No, yeah, I get that,” Ted nods. “I barely keep track of everythin’ with just the one place.”
Ted takes another taste of whiskey and looks around.
“Now I don’t mean to be rude,” he says. “But don’t restaurants usually have menus?”
“Yes,” Rebecca chuckles. “Usually. Not tonight.”
“Unique,” Ted nods jokingly. “They got mind-readin’ waiters or somethin’?”
As if on cue, a man in chef’s whites approaches. About Ted’s height, thick dark brows, dark brown hair sideswept.
“Rebecca! Ma chérie,” the man says in a French accent. “It’s been too long.”
“I know,” Rebecca smiles. “I’m sorry, it’s just too easy to order in these days.”
“I’ll find it in me to forgive you, only because you can kick me out at any time, and the location here is to die for,” he jokes, and Rebecca laughs.
Ted notices it’s just different from the way she laughs with him. Still warm and lovely, but a little more polite, a little more reserved.
“And who is the gentleman, ah?” Richard asks, gesturing to Ted.
“This Ted,” Rebecca says, letting go of Ted’s hand to slide hers up to his shoulder instead, and he feels a little pride in her touch that makes him smile. “Ted, this is Richard, head chef and an old friend of mine.”
“Pleasure to meet you,” Ted says, holding out his hand to shake Richard’s.
“You should feel lucky,” Richard says, playful with a hint of seriousness. “She doesn’t bring just anyone here.”
“Trust me,” Ted chuckles, “been pinchin’ myself all evenin’.”
Rebecca squeezes his shoulder, and he can feel her smile without even looking.
“So what are we thinking tonight?” Richard asks. “Or is it up to me to spoil you?”
Ted looks back at Rebecca to get a verdict.
“Just keep it simple,” she says, and Ted assumes it’s for his benefit more than hers. She may have caught on to the fact that he feels a little like a fish out of water here.
“Boring,” Richard chides playfully. “And you, Ted? Any particular cravings I should know about?”
“No, sir,” Ted shakes his head. “S’long as it’s edible, I’m not picky.”
“Good man,” Richard replies jokingly, giving them both a nod as he rejoins the kitchen.
Ted grabs another sip of his drink before shifting so he’s facing Rebecca a little better, his knee brushing against hers. He loves how they’ve spent pretty much the entire night so far, touching somehow and hopes that’ll last the evening.
“Did you do this for me?” Rebecca asks, lightly brushing her fingers through his freshly trimmed hair on the side of his head.
“A lil’, maybe,” Ted says sheepishly, cheeks reddening a smidge.
“It’s very nice,” she smiles, her eyes following her hand as she cups his cheek.
“Thank you,” he smiles softly.
Her gaze meets his again, and her eyes are the gentlest things he’s ever seen in his life. Nothing to worry about if she’s looking at him like that.
She leans in and kisses his cheek, lingering a little longer than a peck, and her lips are just a little sticky from gloss, but she wipes the little mark off with the pad of her thumb before dropping her hand down to his lower back, and reaches for her glass with her other.
“Were you nervous for tonight?” she asks simply, catching Ted a little off guard.
She’s not teasing; it feels like more of a playful, subtle way of checking in with him.
“Still am,” he says, and they both laugh. “But no, not really. I already know I like you, and I’ve got a little hunch that you’re a fan of mine so far.” He smiles teasingly as she rolls her eyes and squeezes his waist; a very non-threatening warning.
“Only thing I was worried about tonight was which tie to wear and whether I thought you’d like roses or lilies more,” he adds.
“You chose correctly for both.”
Ted gives her an appreciative smile and reaches up to tuck a strand of hair that’s fallen to her cheek back behind her ear.
“Were you nervous?” he asks, fingers lingering longer than they have to, thumb brushing her temple.
She shakes her head. “No. You’re very relaxing to be around.”
“That’s a new one,” Ted chuckles. “And I’m not sure I believe you, given how the other night went.”
“I mean it,” she says, kind but firm. “Even with you running off, you just… I don’t know how to explain it.”
“No, I get it,” Ted says.
He really does. He feels the same way about her. Has since just about the second he laid eyes on her, right after he got over the initial shock of just how beautiful she is. She settles something in him.
It’d been her eyes first, focused and curious. They wander more often and more shamelessly than most people’s do. Not afraid for him to notice when they drop away from his, landing nowhere in particular on him. Just observing, exploring.
Then it’d been her voice, the tone and cadence. How her tongue wraps around different sounds so elegantly, how she’s gentle and kind even when she’s teasing.
Her hands came next, not quick to pull away when his handshake lingered too long, steady and certain when they reached for him. His elbow first, then his hand, his shoulders, his cheek, and now his lower back. Each touch more grounding than the last.
Then her lips, how they emptied his head when they found his. He couldn’t think of anything except kissing her. He still can’t, really.
He doesn’t know the words for it either, but he knows the feeling. The feeling of some part of him, deep inside, already being connected to her. The part that’d made his thumb brush over the embossed letters of her card, and the part that’d hoped Henry would pick her. The part that’d have most people admitting him to a psych floor if he tried to explain it.
Except maybe Beard, he’d probably have some explanation involving chemicals and hormones and a branching philosophical argument for it all. He’d probably be right. He usually is, even when Ted doesn’t quite understand what he’s saying.
“You’re easy to be around,” Ted continues. “‘M not worried ‘bout sayin’ the wrong thing.”
“Did you use to be?” Rebecca asks softly. “With others?”
Ted half-shrugs, half-nods and grabs a sip of his drink. “Yeah, with Michelle. Not all the time, just in the end. She told me my ‘constant optimism’ was ‘too much’. After that, I started overthinkin’ everythin’ I did, and every little problem with us started feelin’ so big.”
“I’m sorry, Ted,” Rebecca says, giving his back a gentle rub.
“S’okay,” he shrugs. “We got married young, probably too young– Not that I regret it, and I don’t think she does either. People just grow, and sometimes that growin’ pushes you further apart instead of pullin’ you closer. And I don’t blame her or nothin’, lookin’ back on it all now. I probably was a lot at times.”
“I doubt that very much,” Rebecca smiles, taking a sip of her wine.
Ted smiles appreciatively but explains himself anyway, “No, it took me a while to understand how the heck being too optimistic all the time could be a bad thing, but after we got divorced, I realized I was just hidin’ behind it.”
Rebecca’s eyes never leave his while he talks, focused and attentive.
“And I’m still an optimist, don’t get me wrong.” He waves a finger to emphasize his point, and Rebecca smiles. “But I also know now that sometimes, it’s not the best way to tackle problems. Don’t always gotta be tryin’ to solve everythin’ right away.”
Rebecca smiles and nods slowly, “You can be optimistic knowing things will turn out the way they’re meant to.”
“Amen, Big Ben. Everyone needs a little dark forest sometimes, just how fairy tales go.”
That’s the biggest thing Ted has learned over the past few years. You just have to let yourself be sad sometimes, let other people be sad without trying to bury it. Like fixing a hole in the drywall. Sometimes, you have to make it bigger, smooth over the edges before you can patch it, otherwise it’ll be messy or won’t hold.
Unfortunately, as it turns out, Ted had a whole lot of sad to catch up on. But the leaves are turning greener in his forest now, sunlight peaking through the branches. Green like Rebecca’s eyes, and golden like her hair.
“And I learned that sometimes the part you think is the fairy tale is actually the dark forest,” Rebecca says, her smile just a tad forced.
“You know what that means, though?” Ted says, nudging her shoulder.
Rebecca raises her eyebrows curiously.
“Still got a whole lotta fairy tale left,” he smiles, resting his hand on her thigh just above her knee. He feels her tense for a second before her whole body relaxes a little under his touch, so he doesn’t pull away, fabric smooth under slow swipes of his thumb.
“And you’re my shite in knining armour– night in shining armour,” she chuckles at her stumble.
“Honestly,” Ted laughs, “I think shite in knining armour is probably more accurate. ‘M not very knightly.”
“No?” Rebecca asks playfully. “More of a prince than?”
Ted smiles before jokingly saying, “Was thinkin’ more of a court jester, but I like yours.”
Rebecca smiles and pulls her hand from his back, only to cover Ted’s on her thigh, grazing the top of his wrist with her thumb. His fingers flex, pressing down just hard enough to feel her skin mould around them through her dress.
He imagines what it would feel like without the barrier… just her soft skin under his palm. He meets her eye as his hand shifts, almost imperceptibly, just an inch higher up her thigh. She just barely takes her bottom lip between her teeth, and Ted is suddenly very aware of his heart beating in his chest, and how it’s beating a little faster.
Not in the way it does when he’s anxious, or when he knows he’s about to need a metronome, but the fun kind of heart racing. The kind that makes him wet his lips and glance at hers. The kind that makes her hand on his send sparks up his arm. The kind that–
“For starters,” Richard interrupts Ted’s train of thought, making him jump a little and pull his hand away. “I have smoked salmon and cream cheese stuffed mini peppers. And, Rebecca, make sure to share, I know how you love these,” Richard chuckles, oblivious – or maybe just nice enough not to comment – of Ted’s red cheeks.
“You should’ve brought more than,” Rebecca says. She’s trying to sound joking, but Ted catches a hint of strain in her voice as she crosses her legs under the table.
Richard laughs lightly, “Please enjoy.”
Ted clears his throat and manages a “thank you.”
Other than a few words exchanged expressing their enjoyment of the appetizers, they make their way through them in relative silence, the air thick between them. Ted watches every bite she takes with focused fascination. The little hum of approval she makes, how her lips pucker around the peppers, and the way she sucks a drop of cream cheese off her thumb after the last bite. She smiles at him as he takes a hasty sip of whiskey, the burn in his throat nothing compared to the one in his chest right now.
Rebecca eyes him over the rim of her glass, her lips curling into something just shy of a smirk. No doubt knowing exactly what she’s doing to him right now.
“You’re awfully quiet all of a sudden, Ted,” she smiles, setting her glass down, drawing his attention to her long fingers and perfectly manicured nails.
“Just enjoyin’ the food.” His voice is just a note rougher than usual. His eyes drop to where the slit of her dress has opened a little, inches that feel like miles of bare thigh revealed to him.
“Good,” she says, almost slyly, leaning back a little and making no move to cover up.
She takes another sip of wine before asking him to let her out, patting his thigh as she does.
Ted nods, buttoning up his suit jacket as he slides out and immediately holds his hand out for her to grab and helps her up.
“Won’t be a minute,” she says, squeezing his hand before letting go.
“Take your time,” he says.
He doesn’t sit down right away, too busy watching her weave through tables towards the restrooms, the curves of her waist, the sway of her hips. Everything he’s tried to avoid looking at before.
~RW~
Rebecca doesn’t look back, but she’d bet a hefty sum of cash that Ted’s eyes don’t leave her until she’s around the corner and down the hall towards the ladies' room.
God, it’s been a long time since she’s had this much fun on a date. Officially a first, though it doesn’t feel like it. The fact that they’ve already kissed a lot and she slept over at his house definitely has something to do with that, but it’s also the ease of it. Like Ted said, they already know the basic stuff, jobs, a little on families, and just enough of their histories, so everything is more open now. Personality more than information, more why than what. Free and loose.
And the intimacy of it, the quiet seduction. Knowing what his lips feel like, and imagining what he looks like under the suit, how he’d feel. The thrill of anticipation, not necessarily for tonight, but a silent understanding that they’ve both thought about what the other looks like naked.
And the eyes. Rebecca has always found they’re the most telling in the early stages. Not just where they look, but how. Where do they linger, when do they widen?
Ted’s eyes are very telling.
They always follow her cues perfectly, following her hands, her lips, her legs. That wordless exploration that sets her alight. And they’re so focused, so attentive. Like they’re absorbing her words as much as his ears are. And they light up when he smiles. Softer than they do when he smiles at Henry, but still unmistakably brighter.
Sometimes, when people have called her beautiful or pretty, she knows they don’t mean it, or they’ve said it because they think it’s what she wants to hear. The truth is, Rebecca, likes seeing it more than she likes hearing it. The way she sees it from Ted. His eyes call her beautiful more than his lips do. They say it to every inch of her they land on, over and over again.
And he’s all the things she already knew. Kind and funny, open and curious, and gentle. So gentle. A kind of gentle she’s never had before, not from anyone.
He makes her feel on top of the world. And not just because of how she looks, she already knew she looked fucking stunning when she left the house, but it's not just that that affects him. It’s not just the low neck and high slit, nor just the curves of her body. It’s everything. Every word, every touch, no matter how fleeting, she can see him, feel him react to it all. The kind of reactions that can’t be faked, not the way people do when they want something from her. These are out of his control, instincts and chemicals. Something else inside him, something that calls to her.
It affects her, too, how reactive he is. Just hand to hand, or lips to cheek, even through fabric, he feels so alive. It’s intoxicating. Like their bodies knew each other before they did.
Rebecca fixes a few stray hairs and touches up her mascara and lips in the mirror before she heads back out into the dining room. She’s barely around the corner when Ted’s gaze lands on her, lips curling up, waving as if she’s forgotten where they’re sitting.
He stands up even though she’s still across the room, and holds his hand up for her when she finally makes it back to him.
“That’s a long time to wait, Ted,” she says, smiling playfully as he guides her back into the booth, one hand in hers, the other ghosting over the small of her back.
“Well, I respect you didn’t hurry,” he says, settling back in next to her, his arm coming up to rest on the booth just behind her, thumb just barely grazing her bare shoulder.
It’s impressive, really, how just that makes her stomach flip, how she feels it everywhere.
She thought about him all day, and all day yesterday, too. From the moment she left his flat to the second she spotted him outside the restaurant. Thought of his eyes on her, his hands, his lips. Of his voice and his breath in her ear as she fell asleep. She thought of him obsessively, truthfully, but if she had to guess by looking at him right now, he thought of her, too.
Rebecca leans back a little, just enough for his palm to rest on her shoulder, and she smooths hers over his thigh, relishing the way his lips flicker when she squeezes just above his knee.
They talk mindlessly for a bit about nothing in particular. About Richmond and Kansas, and which football is better, and their favourite takeout places. To most, it’d seem like boring filler, but not to Rebecca. It is filler, in a way, but it’s not boring. It’s fleshing him out. Teaching her that his favourite barbecue sauce is Arthur Bryant's, and that despite knowing the ins and outs of American football, he can’t wrap his head around offside in football, and that he thinks the place Rebecca likes ordering from is only the third best Thai place nearby.
She loves listening to him talk, to him ramble on until he interrupts himself when he realizes she hasn’t said anything in a while. She loves how he asks questions, how excited he is to ask about things he’d find out if he waited a second or two longer. How he can crack jokes and stay serious at the same time. How he talks with his hands, even the one on her shoulder that she feels tapping her when he gets animated.
“What made you fall in love with music?” he asks.
“I don’t know that there was ever one thing,” Rebecca replies. “My mother always says I was singing before I could talk,” she chuckles. “But I think I always liked that it’s always changing. Even old songs sound new when you listen again. Especially teaching.”
Ted listens intently, as he always does, absorbing every word. It makes her want to tell him more, tell him everything, just to keep him looking at her like this.
“I teach the same tunes, the same notes, the same rhythms, but it never sounds the same. The way Henry plays a song could never be the same as the way someone else plays it, and I wouldn’t want it to. I don’t know, I’m sure it all sounds pretentious and cliché,” she waves dismissively. It’s a habit she’s tried to rid herself of, the habit of dismissing her own thoughts, making them smaller.
A habit Ted doesn’t seem to like.
“I don’t think so at all,” he says seriously. “Think it sounds like someone passionate ‘bout what they do. Someone who found what they’re meant to do.”
“Maybe,” Rebecca smiles, squeezing his thigh in silent appreciation for not letting her hide behind feigned indifference. “I do love it.”
“You’re real good at it, too,” Ted says, rubbing her shoulder. “Henry’s always tellin’ me how patient you are with him.”
Rebecca smiles softly at the thought of Henry talking to his dad about her. Even if it’s just about her being a good teacher. She wonders if it’s part of why Ted was so quick to trust her and be open with her. If his son had let him know she’s safe.
“That means a lot,” she says quietly.
Rebecca reaches for her wine, and the strap of her dress by Ted’s hand slips off her shoulder. He doesn’t miss a beat, curling two fingers under the thin strap and pulling it back up over her shoulder. Then they linger, sliding down towards the top of her dress, thumb tracing the edge of her shoulder blade.
“Thank you,” she mutters.
“Mm,” he hums, though she’s not entirely convinced he actually heard her.
His eyes are glued to the curve of her neck as he leans back ever so slightly in the booth to catch a glimpse of her bare back, and she’s certain he’s watching the way it moves as she raises her glass to her lips.
She watches his throat bob as he swallows and his hand glides back up to her shoulder, but he slips his thumb under the strap this time. It hardly makes a difference, the fabric is less than a centimetre wide, but for some reason, his thumb being under it… It makes all the difference in the world.
She inches her hand on his thigh up a hair, and his eyes finally find their way back to hers, his ears lifting with a tiny smile.
“You were getting distracted,” she teases.
“Was I?” he asks, smiling a little wider.
“Mmhm,” she smiles back, taking another sip of her drink as she does,
“Sorry, there’s just this beautiful woman in a perfect dress.”
Ted’s hand drops down to the small of her back, pressed between her and the booth. It fits so perfectly there, his thumb on the indent of her spine, his fingers just shy of creeping around her waist.
Rebecca chuckles and leans in to press a kiss to his cheek.
“You’re sweet,” she whispers in his ear, smiling as she pulls back a little.
She watches his lips part, slightly curved upwards, his eyes flicking briefly to her mouth. She thinks about kissing him, of course she does, but she wants to save it. Save it for when it’s just them.
His eyes widen a little, like a puppy being denied a treat, when she pulls away, but he hides it quickly. It’s not real disappointment, she can tell, but she knows he would’ve liked a kiss. He gives her waist an affectionate squeeze instead as he reaches for his whiskey.
She smiles softly at him as he takes a sip, her hand trading in his thigh for the back of his neck, brushing her fingers through the hair on his nape, and her eyes linger on his jaw as he takes a sip.
“Now who’s gettin’ distracted?” Ted says playfully as he sets his glass down.
“Unlike you, I’m not sorry in the slightest,” she smiles at him and rubs his shoulder. “You clean up nicely.”
“Not too shabby, huh?” Ted chuckles. “Dunno the last time I wore somethin’ other than khakis or sweatpants if I’m honest with you.”
If Rebecca’s honest, she didn’t think the sweater-khaki combo Ted is usually sporting would ever be something she found attractive, but it works on him. It matches his welcoming disposition. But the suit? Yeah, she’s a fan of the suit. She likes the tie, too. Just a hint of playfulness. Still plenty fancy, but a little more Ted.
“I like those, too,” Rebecca assures him playfully. “But I think you would’ve been a little underdressed.”
“Woulda been well within your rights to leave me outside,” Ted chuckles.
Rebecca laughs softly. She knows he means it as a joke, but she also knows there's sincerity in it. A subtle assurance that she should never accept less than what’s deserved or warranted from him.
The food arrives moments later, and they both bring their hands back to themselves. It feels odd to not be touching him, but before she can do anything about it, Ted is scooching over just enough so their thighs are together.
“For the American,” Richard says, setting Ted’s plate down. “Some familiar classics, only much better,” he chuckles.
“Oh heck, this looks delicious,” Ted says excitedly, laying his napkin on his lap.
The meal in front of him is a collection of barbecue favourites elevated to the standards of the Abacus. Little tastings of pork chops, ribs, potatoes, corn, and a slider worthy of a photoshoot.
“And for you, Miss Welton,” Richard says. “Something new.”
Rebecca smiles at the lovely shrimp risotto he sets in front of her. Ted doesn’t – too focused on his barbecue – but Rebecca notices Richard’s eyes flicking to Ted when he says “something new” and the knowing look he gives her.
“Thank you, Richard,” Rebecca smiles, smoothing her own napkin over her lap.
“Bon appetit.” He gives them both a nod.
He’s quickly replaced by Marcus, who replaces their empty glasses with refills.
“Cheers,” Rebecca says, holding up her wine.
“Seinfeld,” Ted replies as he clinks his glass to hers.
Rebecca snorts, and she shakes her head as she takes a sip. She pretends she can’t see that Ted is just a tad smug about getting that noise out of her, a little, almost prideful, smile tugging at his lips as he exchanges his glass for a fork and knife.
“Don’t even know what to start with,” he says, eyeing down his plate.
“Tough choice,” Recca jokes, taking a bite of her own meal.
He eventually settles on the slider, and Rebecca watches in amusement as he theorizes the best way to cut it, spinning his plate and switching his fork and knife back and forth between hands.
“You’re allowed to eat it with your hands, Ted,” Rebecca chuckles.
“Oh, thank god.” He sets his cutlery down and reaches for the tiny burger. “‘Cause that was not gonna make me look fancy.”
“You don’t have to be fancy.” She nudges his knee with hers.
“Sure, I do. You’ve got your fork facin’ down and everythin’.” He nods to her cutlery as he takes a bite.
Rebecca laughs lightly. She can’t say she’s ever thought about the way she holds her fork being particularly fancy, but she thinks it’s cute that he thinks so.
They chat easily over the food, and even exchange a bite of each other's dishes. Their touches remain casual, comfortable. A press of their thighs, a brush of an elbow or a shoulder. It’s like they can’t help it.
Rebecca’s never been huge on physical touch like this, though she’s starting to think that had a lot more to do with who she was with, because she really likes it with Ted. Really, really likes it.
It’s why her hand creeps back to his thigh when she finishes her dish, and why she leans back against the arm he wraps around her shoulders when he finishes his. And why, when dessert comes – a single sundae with two spoons – they don’t let go as they make their way through it.
“Got a little somethin’,” Ted says, wiping his own lip with the pad of his thumb.
Rebecca mirrors him, his eyes trained on her lips.
“Gone?” Rebecca asks.
Ted shakes his head. “Let me,” he says softly.
He stays focused on her as he raises his hand. His fingertips just barely touch her cheek as his thumb swipes gently from the corner of her mouth to the middle of her bottom lip, and her lips part instinctively.
He doesn’t even seem to notice that he does it when he brings his thumb – a little bit of fudge stuck to it – to his own lips and sucks the tip clean.
“Gone,” he says quietly, his eyes still on her lips.
“Thanks,” she mutters, wetting them instinctively.
He nods, his eyes slowly making their way back up to hers as his hand makes its way down to her back.
“Ready to get out of here?” she asks, sliding her hand further inwards on his thigh.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Okay. That time it was definitely flirty, no doubt in her mind. And it makes her squeeze his thigh just to see him squirm a little and smile. The kind of smile that says watch it and do it again at the same time.
She doesn’t do it again, even though she wants to, instead sliding her hand off him as he slips out of the booth and holds a hand out for her. She laces her fingers in his as she straightens out, he grabs her flowers off the table, and they swing by the kitchen briefly so Rebecca can bid Richard adieu.
The night air is cooler, but refreshingly so as they step outside, the warm sunlight replaced by blue-tinged moonlight and soft streetlamps.
Ted’s hand slips from hers and rubs the bare skin of her shoulder.
“Cold?” he asks.
Rebecca shakes her head. “Perfect.”
“I’m gonna have to agree with you on that one,” he smiles, squeezing her shoulder before taking her hand again.
She’s not entirely sure if he means she’s perfect, or the night is. She doesn’t really care; they both make her light up the same.
Her car pulls up, and Ted lets go of her hand again to open the door for her. Unfortunately, he can’t hold her hand, hold her flowers, and open her door for her all at once. The curse of being on a date with a perfect gentleman.
He takes it back when he helps her in, and she slides in all the way to the far side, nodding to the empty seat.
“Sure?” Ted asks, hand on the roof of her car as he leans down. “I don’t mind walk–”
“It’s as much for me as it is for you, Ted, please,” she smiles.
“Dunno ‘bout that,” Ted says playfully as he steps into her car. “Feel like I’m winnin’ twice here.”
Rebecca chuckles and reaches for his hand, resting them on the big cushioned armrest between them, and wishing she owned a smaller car.
“My couch ain’t even as comfy as this,” Ted says, admiring the interior as the car pulls out onto the road.
“Oh, I disagree. Your couch is very comfy.”
“Yeah?” Ted smiles at her. “You wanna come see it again?”
“Not tonight,” Rebecca whispers.
“No, yeah, course,” Ted says quickly, stuck somewhere between a little disappointment and endless considerateness. “Didn’t mean nothin’ by it just–”
“Ted,” Rebecca interrupts gently. “I just meant I thought you might come to mine tonight?”
“Oh.” Ted’s smile returns quickly. “Yeah. Yeah, that’d be nice. Bet you have comfy couches, too.”
Rebecca chuckles. “I don’t mean to brag, but they are quite nice.”
“Well, that’s just ‘bout all the convincin’ I need,” Ted jokes.
“I’m glad my promise of comfortable couches persuaded you.” Rebecca rolls her eyes playfully.
Ted chuckles and looks at Rebecca, expression softening before he speaks again.
“Thanks for takin’ me out tonight.”
“Thanks for coming.” Rebecca squeezes his hand.
“I tell you you look beautiful yet?”
“You did,” Rebecca says, smiling softly. “I think you even said it out loud once.”
“Good,” he smiles. “‘Cause you really do. Just gorgeous.”
“Thank you, Ted,” she chuckles, a little flustered by just how loud he is in his admiration of her. He doesn’t worry about it being too soon, or the games you’re “meant” to play in the early stages. He’s a candid and unapologetic breath of fresh air.
She doesn’t call him handsome again, not right now. Not because he isn’t, because he really is, but because she’s just not quite as good at the loud admiration thing. She shows it differently. Shows it in the way she reaches up to cup his cheek, rubbing her thumb over the apple of it and smiling back when his lips curl up.
She wants to get better at saying it out loud, but this’ll do for now, and Ted doesn’t seem to mind one bit.
The ride home is short, and Ted spends the entire time rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand, and she spends the entire time watching the blur of streetlamps bring Ted’s face in and out of darkness.
The car rolls to a stop in front of her place, and Ted thanks her driver before stepping out, helping Rebecca out of the car. She links her arm through his as they walk up the few steps to her front porch. He stops just before they get to her door.
“Something wrong?” she asks gently.
“Nothin’ at all,” he smiles. “This is gonna sound silly ‘cause you already invited me… but I’m kind of a sucker for the part of first dates with a lil’ porch kiss and gettin’ lucky enough to be invited in.”
“Is that so?” Rebecca chuckles warmly, turning to face him properly.
“Yeah.” He blushes a little.
“I think that could be arranged.”
Rebecca unhooks her arm from his and rests one hand on his shoulder, the other on his cheek, as his flowerless hand finds her waist.
He can’t stop smiling as she leans in to kiss him, soft and sweet. Everything a first date porch kiss should be, even if it’s not a first kiss.
“Ted?” she mutters between slow kisses.
“Mm?” he hums against her lips.
“Did you want to come inside?”
He’s still smiling when she pulls back just a bit, and his eyes are still closed when he whispers, “Yes, ma’am.”
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Relationship: Ted Lasso x Rebecca Welton
Chapter Rating: Mature
Summary: Ted hires one Rebecca Welton as Henry’s new piano teacher.
Chapter length: 11.4k
II.
~RW~
Rebecca shuts her front door feeling… disarmed. His text messages had come full of the same energy you get from an overly enthusiastic fast-food employee whom you smile politely at and silently will to shut the fuckkkkk up.
She’d expected the kind of man who’d invite you to weekly neighbourhood barbecues that you really don’t want to attend because he’s a little grating to talk to, but makes great burgers, and your kids get along with his. The kind of man who’s great at talking about sports and whatever headline was biggest on the TV that morning, and very bad at talking about anything else. The kind of man who ends the first mildly emotional conversation with his kids with a “good talk” and then never brings up any of it ever again.
The kind of man that there isn’t technically anything wrong with, but maybe took one too many hits to the head playing high school football– his kind of football.
Ted Lasso doesn’t appear to be any of those things.
He looks at her like every word she’s saying is the most important thing he’s ever heard. His handshake is gentle and a little lingering. He’s nervous and antsy in a way that seems foreign to even himself. His voice is cheerful and warm, and he doesn’t make her silently will for him to shut the fuckkkkk up, but makes her chuckle a little and her eyebrows twitch in amusement.
He does look like he makes great burgers, but he’s more the kind of man everyone wants to hang out around the grill with while he cooks, and she can tell Henry has never gotten a “good talk” from his dad.
Rebecca also thinks Ted Lasso seems a little lost.
When he smiles, and his skin crinkles around his eyes, they don’t light up the way she thinks they should. And not in the way eyes don’t light up when someone is smiling politely, but in the way that seems like they’re really trying to, but just can’t manage it.
He’s handsome, too. Warm brown eyes, and just about the only moustache Rebecca hasn’t thought the man would look better without. Top buttons undone and peeking out of his sweater’s collar, shirt untucked and ruffled at the top of his khakis.
So yes, Rebecca is feeling disarmed, and oddly protective of someone she’s just met. She’d like to see his eyes light up when he smiles the way Henry’s do, because she knows Ted is where the kid gets his smile from. And, if she has to guess, probably where he got his astute ability to flop through three topics of conversation in fifteen seconds, not that she minded. He’s a refreshing change of pace from her usual collection of students. The uptight, poised ones who focus far too much on technicality and far too little on musicality. Henry just likes to play.
He reminds her a lot of herself in that way, a younger, freer version, but it’s wonderfully familiar. That’s the whole reason Rebecca got into this at all. She missed playing.
Not that she hasn’t played over the last decade and a half, but it was never the same. It was never free and airy, and she didn’t gather with her friends around the piano and sing, and she never went back to sing karaoke at the Crown & Anchor once Rupert said it was “beneath her,” by which he meant it was beneath him.
No, her playing was reserved to be shown off like prize cattle when Rupert’s friends were over.
“Play a song for us, darling,” he’d say. It never sounded nice when he asked, more like a way to shuffle her to the corner of the room and show his friends what a lovely pianist he’s married. Just as long as she didn’t play too loudly, and only played classical music. It had to be uptight and poised.
She just likes to play.
She hadn’t intended to teach, but the piano room felt so empty when it was only her own music bouncing off the walls, and she wanted to teach kids to enjoy music, not just play it, the way Miss Shipley had taught her.
She had more money and free time than she knew what to do with, so now there are wonderful children in her life who come to learn to enjoy music with her.
There’s also a Ted Lasso in her life. A Ted Lasso who very much looks as though he could use a hug and a nice long chat, and who looks like he’d never ask for either.
Rebecca doesn’t think it’d be appropriate to text the father of one of her students, a man she’s met for approximately five minutes, and say: Is everything alright?
She remembers looking as lonely as he does. The strangeness she felt when she looked in the mirror. She remembers hanging on to something, anything to make it through one more day. For Rebecca, it’d been the part of her that knew she could leave him, and she held onto that until she did. Whatever it is Ted is trying to get through, she’s pretty confident Henry is the thing he’s hanging on to.
She wonders what he’s like when his eyes light up, and he’s not nervous and doesn’t hide inside himself. She wonders what he’s like when he finds the energy he puts into his text messages that are so easy to hide behind.
She felt bad when she reacted so poorly to his passing along of Mae’s message. It wasn’t his fault, and he looked as though he was worried that he had just stabbed her in the back. It’s strange to feel so cared for by a relative stranger. Almost as strange as it is to feel how badly she doesn’t want him to be a stranger.
She knows he could tell she was lying when she said she hadn’t been to the pub because she’s been busy; she’s a part-time piano teacher who lives a stone’s throw away. It seemed a bit much to tell him she hasn’t been because her ex-husband hated the fact that she liked it, and she hasn’t found the guts to face Mae and apologize for not coming by.
She wishes she didn’t feel embarrassed by the fact that she’d let Rupert sink his claws so deeply into her, let him control so much. She knows it’s not something to be embarrassed by, but to be proud of for getting out. She knows Mae would treat her as if she hadn’t missed a week, and she’d never let her apologize for disappearing, but she still feels embarrassed.
There are little moments when she lets herself feel proud. Like when she sings at her piano, and plays as loudly as she wants, and orders whatever the hell she’s craving for dinner, and buys whatever outfit she likes best.
She’s okay with herself now. She’s happy, free, confident, and she really is proud of herself for getting out. For putting herself first for once in her life. But she still can’t bring herself to face the people she’s all but exiled from her life for the last fifteen years.
She’s starting to miss it all even more, though, lately. Her favourite chips, her go-to karaoke songs, her seat at the bar. She misses being called out on her shit and laughing through it. She misses running into old family friends who tell her stories that start with “when you were this high,” and gesture to their knees.
She was already missing it before a little boy today told her that he goes there every Friday after lessons, just as she had when she was a girl. Mae even started calling it karaoke night, even though Rebecca was pretty much the only one who ever used the machine, not that anyone cared.
She knows Ted knows she hasn’t been busy. She’s been scared.
Her week passes as it normally does. Lessons most afternoons, a few evenings. Yoga on Monday and Thursday. A ‘run’ most days that usually winds up just being a walk, but she doesn’t criticize herself for it anymore; she just enjoys it. When she feels particularly adventurous (read: horny), she finds someone to have over for the evening and enjoys the sweet luxury of someone other than herself making her come, not that she doesn’t enjoy that too. It’s just nice now that sex doesn’t feel like a chore or something she owes someone. Her sex life feels like hers again.
Then Friday’s rolling around, and Rebecca is more chipper than most days as she hurries to the door to find–
Not Ted.
“Hi, Rebecca!” Henry beams up at her.
“Hello, Henry,” she smiles, not as big as she tries for before her eyes drift back to not Ted.
She’s a woman, for starters, that’s the big hint. No warm brown eyes looking at her, no dorky half-smile. There’s just–
“Michelle.” The woman holds her hand out, and Rebecca offers it a polite shake.
Hers doesn’t linger as Ted’s had. Rebecca is quite alright with that.
“Please, come in,” Rebecca says, stepping aside.
“I was actually just going to run some errands if that’s alright,” Michelle says.
“Of course,” Rebecca smiles.
“See you in forty-five, Hen,” she says.
“Bye, Mom!” he exclaims as he hurries by Rebecca into her foyer.
Mom. There’d been no ring on Ted’s finger… though if he asks, she didn’t check.
“My dad told me to say hi for him,” Henry says as he kicks off his shoes and follows Rebecca towards the piano room.
“And where is Mr. Lasso tonight?” Rebecca asks, trying not to sound too disappointed that he’s not here.
Henry shrugs, “At home.”
What are the ethics of asking a twelve-year-old whether or not his parents are together?
“I’m with my mom this week,” Henry offers before Rebecca has to figure out the answer to that.
“Ah,” Rebecca replies, sliding the door to the room closed behind them.
What are the ethics of telling a twelve-year-old you’re happy his parents are split up?
Rebecca decides that poor is the answer to that one.
It does, however, explain Ted’s whole… vibe.
“How long have your parents been split up?”
Oh Christ, Rebecca, why would you ask that?
“Sorry… I don’t mean to pry,” she adds quickly, though Henry seems unfazed.
“It’s okay,” Henry says as he pulls his music sheets out of his bag. “Almost three years.”
“Mm,” Rebecca nods. “Sorry to hear that, Henry.”
Not that sorry. Well, now she’s sorry for not being sorry.
“It’s okay,” he says calmly. “They’re still the best parents, and my dad always says it doesn’t make us less of a family.”
“Good,” Rebecca smiles softly at him.
Perhaps now would be a good time to get to teaching the kid instead of prying him on his parents’ divorce for motives that are still unclear to Rebecca, but are probably at least somewhat related to the fact that his dad is a little handsome and she’d like to see him smile like Henry does.
“Alright, Henry, I have some homework for you for next week,” Rebecca says as they’re wrapping up the lesson.
“As long as it’s not an essay, I already have two next week,” Henry replies.
“No,” Rebecca chuckles. “Nothing like that, I just want you to pick a new song you want to learn. Anything you want.”
“Anything?”
“Anything at all, it doesn’t all have to be Debussy and Rachmaninoff.”
“That’s good, because I’m still not very good at pronouncing Ra-chee-ma-noff.”
They both laugh, and Rebecca hands him his last page to pack away.
“Think you can handle it?” Rebecca asks as they head to the door.
“Yes, ma’am, one new song for next week,” Henry smiles.
“Perfect. And remember to watch your pedal on Clair de Lune, yes?”
“Mmhm,” Henry nods. “Hard for the moon to shine when the sound’s muddy.”
“Exactly,” Rebecca chuckles. He’s always coming up with a saying for things. Another quirk she guesses comes from Ted.
Rebecca doesn’t linger at the door as she watches Henry and Michelle walk away. Her eyes do, however, drift across the Green to the Crown & Anchor.
Not tonight. Tonight is for kicking her feet up on the coffee table with a glass of wine.
Almost three years, she thinks to herself. Just a little more recent than her own divorce. Ted doesn’t seem like the heartbroken kind of sad, though, in what she’s gathered in the five minutes she’s spoken to him and knowing little more than his name and that his football is the one with the funny-shaped ball.
Still, Rebecca has always thought herself to be good at reading people, and Ted doesn’t seem heartbroken, just lonely.
Rebecca isn’t not lonely; she’s enjoyed the last three years of freedom and independence, but she’d be lying if she said the idea of having a man around for something other than, or maybe in addition to an orgasm, wasn’t appealing to her.
She supposes she hasn’t gotten around to it for the same reason she hasn’t made it over to the Crown & Anchor. She’s scared. She’s scared of letting herself get– no, she’s told herself to stop calling it that. She’s scared of getting hurt again. She’s scared of being held down instead of lifted up by a partner, and she’s scared of being made small again.
She’s scared of letting herself drift even further from herself, from her life, from that little pub across the lawn that knows her better than Rupert ever had.
So she almost refuses to look for anyone. Perhaps part of her still believes in a little fairy tale romance where the right person will just… show up on your doorstep… figuratively speaking, of course.
Ted is back on her doorstep next week.
“Ted! I–” No, don’t say I missed you. “It’s lovely to see you again.”
“Hey, Rebecca,” Ted smiles, a hand on Henry’s head as he ushers the boy inside.
“Henry,” she smiles, stepping aside to let the Lassos in. “How’s your moon coming along?”
“Clear as day– or… night, I guess,” Henry grins.
Henry leads the way as they head down the hall, and Ted falls into step next to Rebecca, hands in his pockets.
“How’d he do last week?” he asks.
“Oh, excellent,” Rebecca replies. “He’s a very… lively player.”
“Is that a polite way of sayin’ he’s got way too much energy?” Ted's lips curl up ever so slightly.
“Not at all,” she chuckles. “It’s just easy to tell he enjoys it.”
Ted smiles a little wider as he watches Henry take it upon himself to go start doing his warm-up scales.
He looks a little lost in thought as he watches, his expression softening to something melancholic. An expression Rebecca is certain he’d never let Henry see.
“He’s a great kid,” Rebecca says softly, tentatively reaching out to his elbow.
She doesn’t grab, just barely rests her hand over the fabric of his sweater, but Ted’s eyes drop immediately to it. She almost pulls away, but then Ted looks back at Henry and doesn’t comment on it.
“Yeah, he is,” he whispers, almost to himself.
Rebecca dares to give his arm a tiny squeeze before dropping her hand away, her next breath coming just a tad harder.
“I know where he gets it from,” Rebecca chuckles softly, and Ted finally looks at her.
At first, he looks as though he might try to come up with some self-deprecatory quip or joking denial, but he just says a soft “thanks” and manages a little smile.
“Are you al–” she starts.
“Rebecca,” Henry cuts in from the piano room. Probably for the best. “Am I supposed to be playing G-Minor or Major?”
Ted just gestures for her to go in and takes a seat on the little bench before she can say… what would she even say? Sorry, I have to go do the job you hired me for.
“Major,” she says, sliding the door shut behind her.
“Did you do your homework?” she asks as he finishes the scales.
“Yes, ma’am,” Henry replies. “Let it Be.”
“Oh,” Rebecca smiles. “A Beatles fan are we?”
“Yeah, me and my dad listen to them all the time,” Henry explains. “He says this song makes him worry less when it comes on.”
“Does he worry a lot?” Rebecca asks softly.
“Sometimes,” Henry answers simply. “I think he just wants to make sure he’s being a good dad.”
Rebecca’s heart clenches a little, and she has to take a breath to steady herself before she answers.
“He seems like a pretty good father,” she says.
“Yeah,” Henry grins. “He’s the best.”
Rebecca gets up from her chair next to the piano and clears the lump in her throat, wandering over to the bookshelves along the wall.
“I think I might have it here somewhere,” she says. She does, but it’s also a good way to occupy herself so she doesn't ask more about Ted.
“Ah, there we are,” she says, pulling a book of Beatles sheet music from her shelf.
Henry gets the right hand down pat before they move on to Clair de Lune, which he really has cleared up.
“Great work, Henry,” she grins at him. “One or two more weeks and it’ll be pretty perfect.”
“Thanks!” he says as he tosses the sheets into his bag, and she hands him the Beatles book to take home, too.
“Was that some Let it Be I was hearin’?” Ted asks as they come back into the hall.
“Yeah! Rebecca said I had to pick any song I wanted to learn,” Henry explains.
“Well, you picked a mighty fine one,” Ted smiles and rests his hand on Henry’s head as they walk towards the front door. “And heck, that Claire de Loon is soundin’ pretty spiffy. You musta been practicin’ or somethin’.”
Rebecca chuckles as she follows behind the boys, her gaze lingering on Ted’s profile as he talks, the way his jaw moves, how quickly his smile grows when he’s looking at Henry, how close his eyes actually do light up when he looks at him.
“Enjoy your fish and chips,” she says to them as they step out onto her front porch.
“Thanks, Rebecca!” Henry says, already hurrying away.
Ted lingers a moment longer, facing Rebecca, hands fidgeting by his sides.
“Yeah, think he pretty much covered it,” he says with a little chuckle and a half smile.
“Oh, wait, almost forgot, I brought you these,” Ted adds, pulling a little pink box out of his pocket.
“You shouldn’t have,” Rebecca smiles, grabbing the box from him.
She opens it to find a brownie sandwiched between two rectangular shortbread cookies.
“S’posed to be like a piano,” Ted says sheepishly.
“Thank you, Ted,” Rebecca chuckles, grabbing a biscuit to take a bite. “Oh fuck me.”
His eyes go a little wide.
“Sorry,” she chuckles, covering her mouth as she finishes the very good taste of biscuit.
“No, s’okay,” he says, smiling a little as he recovers from the shock. “Gotta say, that’s a new reaction to my bakin’ though.”
“You made these?!”
“Yes, ma’am, don’t mean to brag, but my sweet treats always sell out at Henry’s bake sales.”
“I can see why,” she chuckles. “Thank you, they’re delicious.”
“It’s nothin’, just a lil’ thank you for takin’ Henry on,” he smiles.
“I should be thanking you for hiring me.”
“Too late, we’d just end up in an endless thank you cycle, so you’re just gonna have to take mine and run with it,” Ted says.
She finds it a little odd and a little sad how cheerful his words should be and how they always come out a little hollow. Like his body can’t quite muster the energy to keep up with his personality.
“Well, if you insist,” she smiles. “I’ll see you in two weeks?”
It seems like an awfully long time all of a sudden.
“Yeah.” She thinks he thinks so, too. “I dunno, maybe I’ll see you around.” He gestures vaguely towards the Green.
“Hopefully,” she smiles again, and she sees his lips curl up, like he’s hoping too.
“Dad! Hurry up!” Henry calls from a distance.
“Don’t let me keep you,” Rebecca says playfully, stepping back into her doorway.
Ted gives her a wave that’s only slightly less awkward than last week's as he hurries down her steps to catch up with Henry. She watches his little half-jog and how he ruffles his son’s hair when he catches up.
There’s a moment when she almost follows, not to eat with them, but just to let them lead her back to that pub. But no, when she makes it back there, she has to do it alone. She knows that. She can’t cheat her way behind a shield of Lasso, no matter how safe it feels.
Michelle doesn’t bring her thank-you baked goods, and she once again disappears to run errands as Henry comes inside, his head hanging lower than she’s used to.
“Is everything alright, Henry?” Rebecca asks gently as they head down the hall.
“Yeah,” he says, not as lively as usual. “My friend had his birthday party today, and I’m sad I’m missing it.”
“Oh, well, I hope you’re not skipping it to be here.”
“No, he lives in Kansas,” Henry replies, plopping himself on the piano bench.
“Ah, I see,” Rebecca offers him a gentle smile. “I bet it’s tough not being able to see your friends.”
Talk about pot calling the kettle black.
“Yeah,” Henry says, absentmindedly starting his scales. “It’s okay though, I get to go visit in the summers when school’s done.”
“That’s lovely! Do you go back every summer?”
“Yep!” Henry lights up a little. “We go for six weeks and visit all our friends and family. It’s like the best vacation ever.”
Rebecca doesn’t push him to get right into practicing; talking about Kansas and his friends seems to cheer him up more than Debussy would right now. The music will sound better if he’s in a better mood anyway.
And okay, sure, maybe she likes getting a little glimpse into Ted’s life through the kid, since so far all she’s found out from him in two interactions over the last month is that he bakes. Very well.
Mostly, though, she thinks about how Henry misses his friends and has no choice but to only see them once a year, and that Rebecca could walk across the Green any day of the week but chooses not to.
~TL~
Ted stares at his microwave as his frozen meat pie spins around and around. He promised himself he’d eat something before his habitual outing to the Crown & Anchor. Much less celebratory on Fridays without Henry.
The pie isn’t quite warm all the way through, but Ted can’t bring himself to care. He misses Henry, no doubt about it, but he’s also a little jealous the kid got to see Rebecca today.
It’s not like they made plans or anything, but her “hopefully” to his vague mention of seeing her around had, well, gotten his hopes up. He’d even gone for a couple of walks while Henry was at school this week in hopes of an “accidental” run-in, but nope. Turns out getting some fresh air is kinda nice, though.
He tosses the empty pie tin in the bin and pulls a navy sweater on on his way out the door.
His pint is waiting for him, as it always is, at the seat near the end of the bar Mae had pseudo-assigned him when he started showing up regularly. They exchange a quick nod as he slips into the stool, not saying anything yet.
Mae knows by now that some nights when Ted is here alone, he doesn’t want to say anything at all, so she waits for him to start up a conversation if he wants to. Today, he decides he wants to.
“Thanks for the cookie tip, Mae, think she really liked ‘em,” Ted says as he takes a generous swig of his drink.
“Always had a sweet tooth, that one,” Mae smiles as she wanders over to Ted.
“She come by yet?” Ted asks. He does pretty much every time he comes in now.
Mae shakes her head and gives him a little knowing glance he pretends not to understand. “She’s stubborn.”
“Mm,” Ted nods and takes another sip. “Thought she might after last week.”
“Is that what the biscuits were for?” Mae teases. “A bribe?”
“No,” Ted lets out a tiny huff of laughter. “Those were just a thank you.”
“Sure,” Mae says. “Are you making them next week?”
“Probably,” Ted mumbles into his glass, not wanting to give her the satisfaction.
She chuckles and moves on to help another patron.
Ted does actually like how well Mae has gotten to know him over the last couple of years. Knows his habits, his tells. She’s never judges him and gives it to him straight when he needs it. She lets him be sad and lonely, but she doesn’t let him mope. If he’s been sitting too long, a few of drinks in, she’ll make him go play a round of darts or pinball just to let him focus on something light for a moment or two. She never judges how much he drinks, but she always makes sure he’s safe, slipping glasses of water every couple of drinks, or a basket of fries if he comes early and clearly hasn’t had dinner.
The same goes for tonight. She doesn’t mention his eyelids getting heavier or drawl thicker. Doesn’t mention how the third drink makes him quieter, and the fourth makes him louder, and she gets less hasty about refilling his glass.
His steps are sloppy as he wanders towards the restroom, and the ring of the bell telling him someone new has arrived rattles around in his brain and makes him squint as he pushes the door open.
~RW~
She paces in her foyer for at least ten minutes.
Just fucking… GO, Rebecca.
She’s been less nervous for most dates she’s been on in her life.
After switching out her outfit for jeans and a white blouse and downing a glass of wine, she opens her door and heads down the steps.
She doesn’t follow the paths, just cuts right across the Green, because she knows if she went down paths, she’d be too tempted to take a wrong turn and wind up back on her front porch.
She doesn’t allow herself to slow down, because then she might stop, so she just barges right into the Crown & Anchor, walks over to her usual spot at the right end of the bar, slides the half-empty pint that’s sitting there to the side, and sits on her stool.
Mae just smiles at her.
“Evening, Rebecca.”
“Good evening, Mae,” Rebecca smiles back.
It’s as though she’s never missed a day, just as she expected, and god is she grateful for it.
“The usual?” Mae asks.
“Please,” she replies.
Rebecca looks around. It hasn’t changed one bit. The booths are the same, the AFC Richmond scarves are still hanging in the same places, the dart boards have a few more holes in them, but it's all the same.
She’s not rediscovering something; it’s just been sitting here, waiting, living its life without her until she was ready to come back.
“Thank you,” Rebecca says as Mae sets her gin and tonic in front of her.
“Course, darling,” Mae says kindly. “I’m glad I never met the prick.”
Lovely Mae, no ‘bout bloody time you came back, even though Rebecca knows that’s exactly what she’s thinking. Just… happy to have never met “the prick.”
“Cheers to that,” Rebecca chuckles, raising her glass to Mae and then to her lips. “I am s–”
“No, none of that, darling.” Mae waves a hand at Rebecca. “It’s in the past, and you haven’t aged a day, so as far as I’m concerned, you’ve got nothing to be apologizing to me for.”
“Thank you,” Rebecca smiles gratefully.
“Figured the yank would do the trick, though,” Mae laughs.
“No, Mae, this is for myself,” Rebecca smiles, her denial not entirely convincing. “He just gave a… reminder of something I needed to do. Well, more so his son, in the end.”
“Hard to resist those boys, isn’t it?” Mae says, playful but knowing.
Rebecca chuckles and nods as she takes another sip of her drink.
“Karaoke machine’s right where you left it,” Mae says, nodding towards the back of the pub before going to wash some glasses.
~TL~
Ted stares at himself in the mirror of the pub washroom, trying to open his eyes a little wider, trying to remember if he’s had five or six so far. He wets his face in the sink with cool water and pats it dry, and then stares at himself a little while longer.
“Just one more,” he tells his reflection. His accent a little sloppier and thicker than usual. “Then you’re goin’ home.”
He stumbles back out into the pub to see a blonde woman sitting in his spot. Very beautiful as far as he can tell from here and from behind.
Ted wanders over, and the woman’s profile comes into view as he reaches for his pint.
“Sorry, just gonna– Rebecca?”
“Ted!” she smiles, a little surprised as she turns to face him.
Yeah. Definitely very beautiful.
“Look who finally made it,” he smiles a little lopsidedly, brushing his hair off his forehead, only for it to fall right back. “Guess I don’t have to be hopin’ to see you around ‘cause here you are.”
“Here I am,” she smiles. “I’m sorry, did I steal your spot?” she asks, moving to stand up.
“Nuh-uh,” he shakes his head. “Was just keepin’ it warm apparently. Mind if I sit?” He nods to the stool next to her.
“Please do.” She pulls it out a little for him.
“Henry good today?” he asks. He’d seen him this morning and is already missing him like crazy. “He was a lil’ upset this mornin’ ‘cause of a whole birthday party thing I won’t bore you with.”
“He was great,” Rebecca smiles softly. “He talked to me a bit about it, actually.”
“Mm,” Ted nods. “That’s good. He really likes you, y’know?”
“I’m glad. Lovely kid. I don’t know if I’m allowed favourites, but, off the record, he definitely is.”
Ted grins, a sloppy, drunk little grin.
“Me too. ‘M not even biased. He’s just the best gosh darn kid there is.”
Ted pauses a moment to take a sip of his beer.
“Sorry, that was kinda rude, I skipped right over askin’ how you’re doin’,” Ted says.
“Not rude at all,” Rebecca chuckles. “I’m well. Very well, actually,” she says, glancing around the pub with a peaceful look on her face.
“Happy to hear that,” Ted smiles, blinking slowly as he does.
“Are you alright?” Rebecca asks.
“Me? Yeah, I’m great,” Ted nods and sees that Rebecca doesn’t seem entirely convinced. “Just enjoyin’ a night to myself. Henry’s with his mom, so I get a lil’ extra freedom.” The word freedom has never sounded so sad, but she doesn’t need to know that he’s here almost every night he’s not with Henry.
Rebecca studies him for a moment, like she’s trying to decide whether or not to press him for more.
“Well, I hope I’m not intruding,” she says cautiously, not what she really wanted to say.
“Not at all. Happy to have company,” Ted replies. “Happy to have your company, specifically, actually.”
“Is that so?” Rebecca smiles playfully.
“Heck yeah, he’s not much of a chatter,” Ted says, pointing to his glass. “And we’ve never really gotten a chance to talk.”
Rebecca smiles and nods, and Ted is glad she agrees with his sentiment. She hasn’t been quite satisfied with how little they’ve spoken, either. How little they know about each other.
“And this is much better, I’d expected to just sit here alone reminiscing over the last fifteen years,” she says.
“That how long you been ‘busy’ for?” Ted asks before he can think better of it. Stupid fucking pints. “Sorry that was–”
“No,” Rebecca interjects calmly, laying her hand over his on the bar. “It’s okay. You’re right.”
Ted smiles faintly, trying to keep his hand as still as a statue, like there’s a butterfly on his finger he’s trying not to scare off.
“Still, I– I didn’t mean to say it like that. Sounded mean. I’m happy you’re here is all,” Ted says, a little quieter. “And not for selfish ‘I’d be drinkin’ alone otherwise’ reasons, but ‘cause I can see it’s important.”
Rebecca smiles softly and squeezes his hand, curling her fingers under his palm.
Ted feels like his heart is going a million miles an hour. He can’t remember the last time someone’s held his hand like that, or smiled at him like that. It’s a little sobering, actually, and he hides his nerves behind a swig of beer.
“But also maybe for selfish ‘you’d be drinking alone otherwise’ reasons,” Rebecca jokes.
“Well, yeah,” Ted smiles. “But I swear that’s the second reason.”
Rebecca chuckles before a comfortable silence settles over them, and she trades Ted’s hand for her drink. He smiles into his glass at the casualness she has with him. There’s a very calming flirtatiousness to her that doesn’t go unnoticed.
“Can I get you another?” he asks as she drains her glass.
“You don’t have to do that, Ted,” she smiles.
“I know,” he replies plainly. “I’d like to, though, if you’re havin’ one.”
“You’re very persistent in your generosity, aren’t you?” Rebecca teases playfully.
“You don’t know that,” Ted chuckles. “It could just be a selfish ruse to get you to sit with me a lil’ longer.”
“Works for me either way,” Rebecca smiles and lets Ted wave down Mae to order her another drink.
“You’re not having one?” Rebecca asks.
“Oh, no, I’ve probably had enough for tonight,” Ted says, glancing at his almost empty pint. He’d told himself he’d have one more, but calling it quits seems like the wiser choice, and he doesn’t want to get sloppy– sloppier in front of Rebecca. Plus, he’s never really sure if the next drink will make him happier or sadder. Definitely number. But for once, without Henry, he doesn’t really want to be numb right now. He might not appreciate how pretty her eyes are if he were numb right now.
“So, how did you wind up here?” Rebecca asks as she takes a sip of her new cocktail.
“I just live a few doors down,” Ted explains, gesturing to the sidewalk outside the window.
“I meant in England,” Rebecca smiles. “But I’ll keep that in mind,” she adds playfully.
“Right,” Ted chuckles. “Uh, Michelle. She got a great job opportunity, and I can work from anywhere, so we came here… and promptly got divorced.”
“Ouch,” Rebecca grimaces in sympathy. “The move did you in?”
“I think it was just us not havin’ friends or family ‘round to hide our issues behind anymore. Couldn’t ignore ‘em.” He takes a sip of his beer. “Couldn’t fix ‘em either, apparently,” he adds with a forced smile.
Rebecca nods empathetically and gives Ted a moment to elaborate. When he doesn’t, she asks him another question.
“What do you do then? If you can work from anywhere.”
Ted chuckles into his glass and drains the last of his pint. “You’re gonna laugh at me.”
“Why?” Rebecca smiles, playful and curious. “Oh god… do you like… play video games for a living or something? If so, I’ll be very upset because I quite like you so far.”
Rebecca telling him she quite likes him does not go unnoticed.
“No,” he chuckles. “Nothin’ like that.”
“What is it then?” she asks, propping her elbow on the bar and resting her chin in her palm, eyebrows raised just a hair. “Day trader? Shoe reseller?”
“No and no,” he chuckles again.
“Well, I’m just going to keep guessing,” Rebecca grins at him. “So you might as well just go ahead and tell me because I have a lot more embarrassing options to rattle off next.”
“Oh yeah?” Ted matches her pose on the bar, a little smile of his own.
“Yes. You could sell 3D printed fidget toys you did not design yourself, or… Adult Ent–”
“No!” Ted cuts in abruptly, and Rebecca chuckles. “Definitely not that.”
“Okay, fine,” he concedes. “I’m a motivational speaker.”
Rebecca’s face does that thing people do when they’re trying very hard not to laugh. Lips pursed and twitching, eyebrows raised, nodding slowly, as though he’s just said something profound.
“Told you you’d laugh,” Ted smiles.
“No! No, I’m not–,” Rebecca says, interrupting herself to stifle a laugh. “I’m just– no, it’s good.”
“It’s good?”
Rebecca finally pulls herself together enough to answer properly, voice deliberately steady.
“Yes, it’s very good,” she explains playfully. “Because I happen to know someone who generally looks like he could use a good pep talk.”
“Oh, nice,” Ted says sarcastically. “Thank you.”
Rebecca chuckles and takes a sip of her drink.
“But seriously,” she says, turning to face him a little better. “I think you’d be good at it.”
“No, you don’t,” Ted replies. “Which is understandable.”
“No, really,” Rebecca doubles down. “I’d love to be given life lessons from a man raising a kid like Henry. He’s got it all right.”
“And you think that man is me?” Ted asks, meeting her eye with a little more purpose, a little more intensity.
“I do,” she says softly. “When he’s around. I think you lose yourself a little when he’s not.”
“Yeah, well,” Ted says, turning to his empty pint, spinning it on the veneer and suddenly wishing he’d had that ‘one more.’
“It’s alright, Ted, to lose yourself a little,” Rebecca says, leaning over the bar slightly to catch Ted’s avoidant gaze. “God knows I did. Divorce is hard.”
Ted's eyes flick to hers for a moment before they focus on the wood by her elbow.
“The divorce part is over. Now it's just the…” his voice trails off, the word on the tip of his tongue, like it always is.
“Loneliness,” Rebecca fills it in for him.
“Yeah,” he mutters.
“I know,” she says, gently reaching to rest her hand on his upper back.
Ted’s eyes shut with a soft exhale, her palm melting through the fabric of his sweater, hot on his skin, rushing through him.
He opens his eyes and looks over to find her smiling softly at him.
“This probably wasn’t really the vibe you were lookin’ for comin’ here tonight,” Ted chuckles weakly.
“What? A nice chat with a lovely man?”
Ted smiles and exhales sharply through his nose.
“This is much better than my initial plan of drinking too much and feeling guilty about not coming back here earlier,” Rebecca says, her hand sliding down Ted’s spine and back to her side.
“And I bet Mae is happy I’ve got someone else to talk to,” Ted chuckles.
“Do you always come here alone?” Rebecca asks curiously, no judgment.
“Mostly. Fridays with Henry when I have him, and Beard comes sometimes.”
“Beard?” Rebecca asks with a surprised chuckle. “That sounds like the name of an imaginary friend.”
“He’s real,” Ted smiles. “My best friend for heck, two decades? He moved here a couple years back.”
“I’m sure it’s nice to have him around,” Rebecca says. “Must be hard moving so far from home.”
“Yeah,” Ted nods. “Guess I didn’t really make much of an effort to make new friends or… y’know.”
“It’s strange how much dating has changed, isn’t it?” Rebecca chuckles and takes a sip of her drink.
“Horrifyin’” Ted perks up, relieved to have someone to talk about it with that’s not his twelve-year-old son or Beard… who means well. “I mean, heck, I hadn’t been on a first date since college. I don’t know how many ‘do you have any siblings’ I’ve got left in me, Rebecca.”
“Oh god, don’t even get me started,” Rebecca laughs. “If I wanted to have an awkward conversation over dinner, I would’ve had my mother over.” She pauses to take a sip of her drink. “I don’t, by the way. Have any siblings.”
“Noted,” Ted smiles. “Me neither.”
“That’s surprising to me,” Rebecca says, narrowing her eyes.
“Why’s that?” Ted questions.
“You just sort of have that… older brother energy to you,” Rebecca explains. “Kind of person who cooked dinners for a younger sibling. A sister, if I had to guess.”
Ted shakes his head, “Just for my mom.”
“Mm,” Rebecca nods and takes a sip of her drink. “Your father?” she asks carefully.
“Passed away when I was sixteen,” Ted says simply.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Ted,” Rebecca replies softly.
“Yeah, me too.” Ted gives her a little smile.
He doesn’t offer any more, and she doesn’t push; there’s just a gentle understanding that it’s something he went through, and maybe even an understanding that she’s here if he does want to talk about it.
“Oi,” Mae says, smacking the bar in front of Rebecca and startling her. “I told Ted to get your arse back in here to put that machine to use.” She nods to the karaoke machine near the corner of the pub.
“Can’t a woman reacclimate herself to her environment first?” Rebecca jokes.
Ted doesn’t take either side, because he doesn’t want to push Rebecca… but he really wants to hear her sing.
“I’ve never seen you in here just to sit and chat, and I haven’t heard you sing in way too long,” Mae says firmly, a playful glint in her eye.
“I’m having a very lovely chat, actually,” Rebecca smiles, glancing over at Ted, who is still very much hoping Mae wins this fight.
“Oh, bugger off, Ted, you want to hear her sing, don’t you?” Mae asks.
“I mean…” Ted smiles hopefully at Rebecca.
“I’m feeling cornered and betrayed right now,” Rebecca says, feigning hurt. “One song.”
~RW~
Rebecca stands up, rolling her eyes playfully at Ted, who lights right up. There is no world in which Rebecca would have been able to say no to him looking like that right now, and Mae wouldn’t have let her anyway.
She can tell that he’s really trying, too, to enjoy himself. He’s refreshingly candid, just like Henry, and genuinely curious, and he accepts her fleeting touches and playful flirting, and she can tell he’s working up the courage to return some of his own.
Maybe he’s waiting to be more sober, so she’d have no choice but to believe him. It seems like something he’d do.
Rebecca flips through the catalogue of songs, glancing back at Ted, who is leaning back on one elbow against the bar, waiting expectantly. He probably doesn’t know that she can see the way his eyes are roaming over her right now. Gently, not greedily, the way most do. Just like he’s imagining the curves of her body under the weight of his palm, how it’d feel to touch her, to hold her. Maybe she’s projecting.
She smiles at him when his gaze reaches hers, and he smiles back. A real smile. Soft and subtle, but his eyes widen just a hair.
He looks pretty like this. The warm glow of the incandescent bulbs lining the ceiling behind him, the slight flush of his cheeks from his drinks and maybe a little from her, and the antsy drumming of his fingers on his thigh.
Rebecca presses play on the machine and steps into what Mae refers to as “the stage” but is really just an empty section of floor by the arcade machines.
She glances around the mostly empty pub, late on a Friday and no football match until tomorrow afternoon. No one is paying her any mind except Ted and Mae.
The countdown finishes, and the first few notes play, and she knows Ted recognizes it immediately, and knows it’s for him, because he tries to look annoyed, but his expression just softens as Billy Joel’s Vienna fills the air.
Slow down, you crazy child
You're so ambitious for a juvenile
But then if you're so smart
Tell me why are you still so afraid? Mm
Where's the fire, what's the hurry about?
You'd better cool it off before you burn it out
You've got so much to do
And only so many hours in a day, hey
She’s never had someone look at her while she’s singing the way he is right now.
But you know that when the truth is told
That you can get what you want or you can just get old
You're gonna kick off before you even get halfway through, ooh
When will you realize Vienna waits for you?
Entranced, would be the right word, Rebecca thinks.
Slow down, you're doin' fine
You can't be everything you wanna be before your time
Although it's so romantic on the borderline tonight, tonight
Too bad, but it's the life you lead
You're so ahead of yourself, that you forgot what you need
Though you can see when you're wrong
You know you can't always see when you're right
You're right
He softens even more, his eyes flicking between her and the floor.
You've got your passion, you've got your pride
But don't you know that only fools are satisfied?
Dream on, but don't imagine they'll all come true, ooh
When will you realize Vienna waits for you?
He grows a little unreadable as she goes on, his thumbs rubbing his fingers, and there’s a tension in his brows. Rebecca doesn’t know what to think of it, so she just keeps singing.
Slow down, you crazy child
And take the phone off the hook and disappear for a while
It's all right, you can afford to lose a day or two, ooh
When will you realize Vienna waits for you?
He gives her a little smile, not as real as the earlier one. Shit, did she push him by singing this?
And you know that when the truth is told
That you can get what you want or you could just get old
You're gonna kick off before you even get halfway through, ooh
Why don't you realize Vienna waits for you?
When will you realize Vienna waits for you?
She’s not sure what she expected from him. A little solo standing ovation? A proper smile, and for him to tell her how beautiful it was? Whatever she was expecting, it’s not this.
“Ted!” she calls after him, dropping the mic to the floor.
He’s hurrying out the door, hands shoved in his pockets and moving a little unsteadily in a way that doesn’t seem to be from the alcohol.
She glances at Mae, who looks just as worried and can’t offer any explanation as she gestures for Rebecca to follow him.
“Ted!” she calls again, rushing out the door.
She looks around quickly, trying to find which way he went. She chooses the direction he’d vaguely pointed in when talking about his flat earlier, and she rushes down the sidewalk.
She almost walks right by him, but catches him out of the corner of her eye, sitting in the alcoved doorway of a building, face in his hands.
“Ted,” she says, softer now, leaning down towards him.
He looks up at her, eyes hazy and unfocused, like he can’t decide if she’s really where the voice is coming from.
“It’s okay,” she whispers calmly, crouching down to meet his eye. She doesn’t reach for him yet, as much as she wants to.
“I’m sorry,” he pants, struggling for breath. “H-happens sometimes.”
“It’s okay, you’re okay,” she whispers.
He reaches for her hand and clamps on with a death grip, caging it in with both of his. She doesn’t mind one bit.
“Just breathe.”
He clamps his eyes shut and nods, and she covers his hands with her free one and starts brushing her thumb over his knuckles. After a few moments, his eyes open back up, and they follow her thumb tracing over his hand like a pendulum. She notices his breathing starts to follow her rhythm, so she slows it down.
“Slower,” he mutters. “Fifteen.”
Rebecca slows even more, trying to figure out what on earth “fifteen” means. She follows his pattern, every swipe of her thumb, an inhale, a hold, and then an exhale. She remembers learning something similar at her lowest, when she’d have to start every day just breathing before she’d be prepared to face it.
In for four, hold for four, out for four, and then again.
Fifteen beats per minute.
She finds the rhythm in her head and moves her thumb along to it, his gaze never drifting from it, and she sees his eyes clearing a little as his breathing follows her lead.
“There we go,” she whispers, smiling softly despite her worry. “There we go.”
Ted nods, and she cups his cheek gently before slowly shifting to sit next to him and sliding her arm around his shoulders. His grip loosens on her other hand just enough for her to be able to hold his hand instead of it being trapped between his palms.
“I’m sorry,” he mutters, still breathing a little hard. “I didn’t mean–”
“Don’t apologize,” she interrupts quietly. “You’re okay.”
“It was really beautiful,” he whispers, tilting his head back to take another few deep breaths as he starts to steady.
“Thank you,” she smiles and gives his shoulder a light squeeze. “Are you okay?”
He nods again. “Yeah. Thanks. Happens sometimes. Start feelin’ everything all at once and I just… I can’t stop it.”
“That’s okay, Ted.” Rebecca leans forward a little to catch his eye. “Do you want to tell me anything you were feeling?”
He keeps breathing for a few moments, and Rebecca looks around, trying to figure out which door might lead to his flat. He might be more comfortable there. It’s getting cool out, and the streetlights seem especially bright.
His voice draws her attention back to him.
“I’m not good at this anymore,” he replies, his gaze hesitant to land on hers.
“At what?” she asks quietly.
He hesitates, his eyes searching hers like he’s trying to decide if she really wants to hear the answer to that or if she’s just being nice.
“This?” he mutters, gesturing to the two of them. “Not that this is anythin’ necessarily… I just like seein’ you, liked talkin’ to you tonight.”
Rebecca smiles, blushing slightly and trying not to let on too much that her heart flipped.
“That’s a pretty good start,” she says.
“I was just thinkin’ about that and then– then I was thinkin’ about you bein’ Henry’s teacher and how much he’s been enjoyin’ going to see you, and not knowin’ what I should or shouldn’t say but…” he takes a deep breath and looks at her. “You look beautiful, Rebecca.” His voice steadies so much that it catches her off guard.
“Thank you, Ted,” she says, gently starting to rub his shoulder.
“I’m sorry for runnin’ off.”
“I told you, it’s okay, Ted. I was just worried about you. Or worried I did so–”
“No,” he cuts her off quickly. “Nothing you did. Promise. My head’s just gets a lil’...” He doesn’t find the word. He doesn’t need to.
“Do you want to get up? I can walk you home?” Rebecca asks softly.
“You don’t have to do that,” Ted says, letting her help him to his feet.
“I know,” Rebecca says simply, stealing a page from his book. “I’d like to.”
Ted smiles and reaches for her hand when it drops from his back.
“Sure? It’s a real long walk,” he jokes, and Rebecca lets out a chuckle, relieved his spirits are lifting a little.
“Positive,” she smiles.
“Okay, but I warned you.”
He reaches into his pocket for his keys and keeps her hand in his as he turns them around to face the door.
“Made it,” he smiles at her, and she laughs as he slots his key in the lock.
As she watches him unlock it, she thinks about how he could have probably slipped in earlier, and she wouldn’t have found him. Maybe his hands were shaking too much. Or maybe he wanted her to find him. She thinks it’s the latter. Or at least she hopes it is.
He swings the door open, and the silence stretches for a moment.
“Can you– Do– If you want–,” he stutters through the start of a few questions.
“Yes, I can, yes I want to,” she smiles softly and gives his hand a little tug to get him to lead her up the stairs.
His apartment is messy in a a twelve-year-old boy has been living here way. A few dishes in the sink, a sweater on the chair, a sock between the couch cushions, a hazardous pile of LEGO. It’s cozy, though. The keyboard tucked away in the corner of the living room, the throw blanket on the couch that obviously gets used for cozy movie nights, and Henry’s certificates stuck to the fridge.
He doesn’t let go of her hand as he toes his shoes off, and she does the same.
“You want anything? Water? Drink?” he asks, leading her to the kitchen.
“A water would be perfect,” she smiles. “You should have one, too.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She smiles a little wider. He always sounds a little flirty when he says it, but she’s not even sure if he means to. Once again, she hopes he does.
He lets go of her hand only to pour two glasses of water and hands her one as he takes a sip of his own.
“Sorry, it’s a lil’ messy, I obviously wasn’t expectin’ any company,” he says, leaning against the counter across from her.
“No, it’s cozy,” she smiles and looks around the place.
It’s so utterly and completely Ted. Pictures of Henry on mantles and the walls. Some don’t even have frames, like they just had to be put up and there was no time to bother with one. It’s an organized chaos, the kind that comes from Ted putting everything into caring for Henry and very little else. A sad and happy scene in equal amounts.
“Also, now that you’ve settled a little,” Rebecca says. “You know I’m just Henry’s piano teacher, Ted, there won’t be a scandal if someone knows you called me beautiful,” she chuckles softly.
“I know,” he smiles a little. “I just– I know.”
“Good,” she smiles back, warm and welcoming, and it calms him down even more.
“But next thing you know, he’s gettin’ into Juilliard, and people are accusin’ him of nepotism, and that’s a big deal these days,” Ted says, mockingly serious.
“Very true,” Rebecca laughs. “I’ll be going then.”
“Shame,” he smiles. “I’ve been havin’ a nice night.” He finishes his water and sets the glass in the sink. “Want anythin’ else?”
“Yes, actually,” Rebecca replies.
Ted raises his eyebrows inquisitively.
“I’d like for you to come sit with me and relax for… one minute. Just one, then if you have to, you can go back to fussing, or I can leave you to it,” Rebecca says, playful but gentle.
Ted chuckles and nods, “Well, alright then.”
~TL~
Rebecca’s arm settles around Ted’s shoulders like they’ve sat on this couch together a hundred times before. He leans into her ever so slightly, savouring the feeling of her thumb brushing over his shoulder, the side of her thigh touching his. She’s so comfortable with herself, with him, he can’t help but let his guard down and let her in.
Something about her not knowing him before everything makes her easier to talk to. Not like Beard, who, to no fault of his own, Ted can always tell is egging him just a little to get back to who he was. Rebecca doesn’t know anyone other than the Ted right here under her arm. The one who’s anxious and fidgety and has panic attacks in the street. But she’s still here, calming him down, not judging him, not pushing him to be anyone else. Just a gentle, quiet acceptance.
It’s quiet, nothing on the TV, no music, the street below is almost deserted. It’s just them, her breath and his.
“You okay?” he asks softly, trying not to disturb the peace. “We didn’t get to you yet.”
“Yes,” she smiles at him. “Very.”
“You’re happy you went there tonight?”
“I am,” she says, squeezing his shoulder lightly. “Wouldn’t have run into you.”
Ted smiles, but his tone is still serious. “But for you. You’re happy for goin’ back there? I don’t need you to tell me the whole story if you don’t want to, but I know it was a big deal.”
“I don’t think it was as big of a deal as I thought it’d be in a lot of ways,” she says, her eyes drifting to the ceiling as she tilts her head just shy of resting on his shoulder. “It was like coming home after uni. It’s all the same, you’re just different. And it’s nice to have somewhere that’ll always be the same no matter who I am.”
“That’s good,” Ted smiles, turning his head to look at her. She’s so close that he has to make an effort for his lips not to graze her forehead. “And thanks for singin’. Really was beautiful.”
“Thank you,” she says softly, her breath hot on his jaw. “And thank you for letting me find you.”
She knows. Of course, she knows that he wanted her to find him.
“How’d you know? The breathin’. You knew what I meant.”
“I’ve had to remind myself how to breathe before. Never quite as intense as you,” she says. “But I used to ground myself with it. Make myself feel human again.”
Ted nods and reaches up to brush a strand of hair from her forehead, and then his hand stays there, thumb on her cheek, fingers on her jaw. She’s as soft as he imagined. Her smile is soft, too, and her eyes. And her lips look soft… so so soft.
She shifts her body a little towards him, head tilting up ever so slightly. Tiny and subtle movements amplified tenfold by how close she is. Her eyes dip to his lips for a moment, but she doesn’t lean in any closer. He knows she won’t. She’ll let him take his time. So he does.
His thumb brushes back and forth over her cheek, and his gaze roams over every inch of her face, the lines around her lips and eyes. The flush to her cheeks that he doesn’t think is makeup or booze. He wants to remember exactly how she looks, gentle and soft and breathtakingly beautiful.
He wants to remember how she looks when he asks, “Can I kiss you?” Barely a whisper.
“Yes.” Barely a breath.
He leans down, brushes his lips over hers, and shares a breath with her before closing his mouth over hers. As soft as he imagined.
His fingers flex on her cheek and hers on his shoulder. It’s the simplest, most tender, most thirst-quenching kiss. It’s not awkward or rushed, and it’s not for hotel rooms and passing through. It’s just Rebecca, and it’s just Ted, and they’re a little less lonely.
The kiss breaks just enough for them to smile against each other's lips, neither of them opening their eyes yet.
Rebecca’s lips trail from the corner of his mouth along his jaw to his ear.
“Feeling better now?” she whispers, her free hand dropping to rest on Ted’s knee.
“Much,” he smiles and turns his head to meet her eye. “You gonna kiss me again?”
“No,” she replies, a split second before her lips are on his again.
“Why not?” he mutters between her little kisses. His top lip, then his bottom, then closer to the corner, exploring him so gently it almost hurts his chest.
“Because we’ve been drinking.” She doesn’t stop her exploration.
“That’s true.”
She shifts closer to him, planting a hand on the cushion beside him. She doesn’t get on top of him yet, but the intent, or at least the idea of it, lands heavily in the forefront of Ted’s mind.
“So I can’t kiss you again,” she explains.
“Okay,” Ted whispers. His hand slides from her cheek to her shoulder, and he brings her closer still.
“I really like kissing you, though,” she coos between more soft kisses, Ted matching her steady rhythm.
“We can do it again when we’re sober-er.”
“That’s not a word,” she smiles, her lips still finding his again and again. “But okay.”
“You’re not being very good about not kissin’ me,” Ted grins.
“You should stop talking.” Her kisses linger a little longer each time.
“You should keep kissin’ me, then.”
“Excellent idea.”
His hand drops to her waist to finally pull her on top of him.
She settles in perfectly, like she belongs there, his hands on her hips, her arms around his neck. No rush, no pressure, just the weight of her, the feel of her, the taste of her.
She shuts him up perfectly, deepening each kiss, mouths opening and closing in tandem.
She lets out a soft hum, and it makes Ted’s heart skip a beat and his fingers tense on her waist.
Do it again, he thinks, and then kisses her harder.
She doesn’t right away, but she draws a sound of him, instead. Her fingers curl in the hair at his nape, tilting his head back as her tongue just barely touches his.
He groans and wraps his arms around her back, pulling her flush against his chest.
He’s not sure how long they’re on the couch for, enjoying a sloppy, highschool-style makeout. All over the clothes and shaky breaths, and an occasional, instinctual roll of Rebecca’s hips that draws matching little moans from each of them.
Then they break, her forehead on his, their chests rising and falling heavily. Ted smiles, her thumbs brushing the dips of her waist over her blouse, her fingers gently combing through the hair on the back of his head.
Ted leans back enough to look at her properly. She looks even more beautiful now, he thinks. The flush of her cheeks creeping towards her neck. She doesn’t look dishevelled, just ever so slightly undone. She doesn’t look worried about him anymore, just gentle and caring. He hasn’t scared her off, hasn’t been too much. She’s still here, in his lap, looking at him like she’s thinking all the same things he is.
He turns his head to press a gentle kiss to her forearm, a silent thank you.
She smiles and brushes the hair off his forehead, before she cups his face, thumb brushing over the apple of his cheek as she leans down to kiss him again. Soft, lingering. A silent thank you of her own.
“It’s gettin’ late,” he whispers.
Rebecca nods, her thumb still brushing his cheek as her eyes roam his face. She doesn’t seem to be interested in leaving, and Ted is certainly not interested in asking her to.
“Do you wanna stay over?” he asks shyly.
A simple offer, no hidden motives. Just it’s late, and she’s here, and it’d be nice if she stayed. He really wants her to stay.
“Yes,” she smiles, giving his cheek an affectionate little tap as she gets off him.
He follows quickly behind her, grabbing her hand to lead her down the hall to his bedroom. His room is, regrettably, a little messier than the rest of his place. An overflowing laundry hamper, a hastily made bed, and a few sticky ring stains on his nightstand.
Rebecca doesn’t judge at all, at least not outwardly. Her expression remains soft and kind, smiling at him when he glances over.
“I’ve got extra pjs in here if you want, nothin’ fancy,” he says, opening a drawer of his dresser. “Feel like you’re the kinda lady who wears silk to bed.”
“I’ll make an exception,” she chuckles and grabs a baggy pair of boxers and an old Kansas City Chiefs t-shirt.
Ted smiles and leads her to his ensuite next and finds her an unopened toothbrush in the cabinet under his sink.
“Feel free to take a shower, steal all the soap you want,” he says, grabbing a few of his own things off the counter.
“I can use your guest bathroom, Ted,” Rebecca says, pointing with her thumb over her shoulder towards the hall.
“Nuh-uh,” Ted shakes his head. “This one’s nicer, less fingerprints on the mirror.”
Rebecca chuckles and sets her borrowed clothes down on the vanity.
“Gimme a shout if you need anythin’,” Ted says, slipping out of the bathroom and shutting the door gently behind him.
Ted grabs some pyjamas for himself, plain grey pants and a white tee, and pads to Henry’s bathroom down the hall. He changes quickly and brushes his teeth before wandering to the kitchen to grab a glass of water to set on his nightstand, and crawls into bed.
Rebecca emerges a few minutes later. She just keeps getting prettier.
The warm glow of his lamp catches her bare face perfectly, and the baggy boxers shirt combo is unfairly attractive. She smiles when he opens up the covers and crawls in beside him.
“Need anythin’ else?” he asks quietly.
Rebecca shakes her head as she settles in, his arm tucked under her neck as she drapes hers over his stomach. He rests his free hand over her arm, thumb gently rubbing the bare skin there as his other brushes her shoulder.
No empty bed tonight. No aching loneliness. Just Rebecca. She smells like his hand soap. He doesn’t remember it smelling so nice before.
He’s careful not to jostle her too much as he reaches over to shut the light off and pulls the covers up over them.
“Comfy?” he murmurs, brushing his lips over her forehead.
“Mmhm,” she hums, smiling and pressing her lips to his chest in return.
He wants to stay up longer, all night even, just looking at her, holding her like this, but he’s absolutely wiped.
“G’night, Rebecca,” he whispers. “Thanks for stayin’ over.”
“Happy to, Ted,” she says quietly. “Goodnight.”
He’s out cold in minutes, the weight of her arm, the rhythm of her breath practically a lullaby to him.
~RW~
Rebecca smiles as she feels his breath even out and his thumbs still. She carefully tilts her head up, the glow of the streetlights below casting just enough light to make out his face. He looks softer, asleep and in the dark. No lines, no tension in his brow, no worried expression or slight purse to his lips.
No focus on his breathing anymore, just a slow inhale through his nose and a little exhale through his mouth. There’s no fidgeting fingers, just his arm tucked under her like a pillow and his hand on her forearm.
She wishes she could see him like this awake, too. Just… content.
She also wishes she could wake him up and kiss him again, hear him again. See him do little things for her before she even has to ask, like lending her clothes and finding her a toothbrush. Anything to make her comfortable, cared for.
It never feels forced either, doesn’t feel like it’s part of some scheme or like anything other than genuine kindness. He’d asked her to stay for nothing more than wanting closeness. She could tell that from the second the words left his lips, and she’d hoped for it the second she stepped into his flat.
She can’t remember the last time she fell asleep in someone’s arms, to the sound of someone’s breath that soothed her instead of grating her. She can’t remember falling asleep with someone and feeling so safe, and with no nagging feeling that something wasn’t quite right.
Warnings: some smut at da end cuz yeah, feelings realization
Length: 6.9k
Summary: In which Ted Lasso and Rebecca Welton are out on a double date and... things are realized.
The idea had come up over biscuits with the boss last week.
“Double date,” Ted said. “You and me and the plus ones.”
Neither Ted nor Rebecca found it odd that the part he’d emphasized was him and Rebecca.
“Jen’s been dyin’ to meet you,” he added.
Rebecca nodded as she chewed her biscuit.
“Matthijs will be in town next weekend, we could do Friday?” Rebecca said, glancing at her schedule on the screen.
“We’ve got ourselves a date,” Ted grinned.
There’d been a time, four years ago, that sentence would’ve hit them both differently. Ted would’ve been terrified to say it, and Rebecca’s heart would’ve skipped a beat, but it never came.
He’d almost tried that fateful day in Amsterdam, but then Rebecca’s phone had wound up in the bottom of a canal, and Ted never really entertained the idea again. Then he’d left, and she’d found Matthijs, and then he came back, and he found Jen, and everything was simple.
They didn’t have to think about the things they never said or never did. They just got to be content that the other is happy, and happy to be back in each other's lives, and they got to pretend they never thought what if.
***
The restaurant is fancy, fancier than Ted would’ve picked himself, but Rebecca loves the food. She’s told him about a hundred times since he got back to Richmond that he has to go, so she jumped on the opportunity to take him.
They round the corner at opposite ends of the restaurant and spot each other down the sidewalk. Ted’s red tie matches Rebecca’s dress perfectly, and their smiles mirror each other.
Jen gives Ted’s hand a nervous squeeze, and he glances over at her.
“She’s really not as intimidating as she seems on TV, nothin’ to be nervous about,” he reassures her.
He lets go of her hand to catch Rebecca in a hug.
“Hey, Boss,” he grins, lingering a little longer than is strictly necessary.
“Coach,” she smiles, squeezing his shoulders before letting go.
“This is Jen,” Ted says, gesturing to his girlfriend. “And Jen, this is Rebecca and Matthijs.”
“So glad to finally meet you two,” Jen smiles, shaking both their hands.
“Ted’s told me a lot about you,” Rebecca replies.
The truth is, Ted has told her rather little beyond the fact that she’s his girlfriend and she treats him nicely. Which is about all Ted knows about Matthijs.
Ted holds the door open for everyone before hurrying to the front of their line, winding up next to Rebecca as they get to the hostess table.
“Do you have a reservation?” the woman asks.
“Sure do,” Ted smiles.
“Name?”
“It’ll be under Miss Welton here,” he says, pointing to Rebecca. “None of the rest of us’d be able to get a table here.”
Rebecca chuckles and gives Ted that adoring eye roll he’d missed more than he’d like to admit when he was in Kansas.
The hostess leads them to a booth by the window, a string of fairy lights just outside casting a warm glow on the dark wood table.
Rebecca slides in first, and Ted next to her as their partners sit across from them.
“Can I start anyone off with something to drink?” the hostess asks.
“Ooh, yes, please,” Ted says, eagerly grabbing a drink menu. “What’s that red you said you liked here, Rebecca?”
Rebecca leans over his shoulder and scans the menu with her finger, brushing by his thumb on her way down the list before she stops.
“The 2015 Merlot, it’s divine,” she says, her shoulder brushing his before she straightens up.
“That work for everyone?” Ted asks the table, receiving an indifferent nod from Matthijs and a slightly happier one from Jen.
“2015 Merlot it is,” Ted says, snapping the menu shut and smiling at the hostess.
The woman nods politely and heads off.
“Oh, Ted, before I forget,” Rebecca says, reaching into her handbag to pull out a notebook. “Henry forgot this in my office; he’ll need it for his test on Monday.”
“Oh, heck yeah he will, thanks, Boss,” Ted says, tucking the book half under his thigh.
Rebecca’s office had become a go-to study spot for Henry over the last year, and more and more often, Rebecca is there at the same time. If she has time, she helps Henry out with his work, but mostly, Henry sits quietly on her couch while Rebecca does her own work.
“So, how’d you two meet?” Jen asks, glancing between Rebecca and Matthijs.
Ted knows she’s been nervous about this since he brought it up last week; she’d been hoping her first meeting with Rebecca would be less private, but schedules rarely aligned for them to cross paths. Whether or not Ted had done anything to ensure the delay of their meeting is between him and Dr. Sharon.
“In Amsterdam,” Matthijs starts. “She–”
“Was there for a friendly,” Rebecca chimes in. “Just a lucky run-in,” she smiles at Matthijs, who flashes her a quick look, clearly wondering why she’s not telling them the whole thing.
She knows Ted doesn’t like hearing the whole story. He wasn’t a huge fan of the whole holding her hostage and phoneless, while Ted was worried and thought he was on shrooms part of the whole thing. She understands how the story maybe doesn’t sound great from his side, and she’s always felt a little guilty knowing Ted had wanted to spend that day with her after his flurry of texts arrived when she got a new phone. She won’t make him hear it again.
“Oh, that’s so cute,” Jen says. “Fun how things work out like that. Ted and I got lucky, too.”
“Where’d you two meet?” Matthijs asks.
“At a party, he was the only other one who looked as lost as I was there,” Jen chuckles.
It’s true, they’d met at a party Jane threw, and Beard had dragged Ted to, and Jen had been there because she was friends with the people who ran the venue. They’d met both looking very scared in the corner. Ted never told her Rebecca was originally supposed to come, but had to cancel because of a shareholder meeting that ran late.
Rebecca never told Ted, because she thinks it's unfair, that she wishes she’d been there.
“Fun to meet people the old-fashioned way,” is all Ted contributes to the story.
The hostess returns and pours a splash of the merlot in Ted’s glass to try, but he slides it over to Rebecca.
“Let the expert decide,” he smiles.
Rebecca takes a sip and gives an approving nod, sliding the empty glass back to Ted, neither of them thinking twice about the lip stain her gloss left on his rim or about the fact that she has a perfectly clean glass to trade with him.
“Got a winner, thank you,” Ted says to the hostess as she starts pouring the wine, leaving the bottle at the end of the table.
The four of them all open their menus and start perusing quietly before Ted pipes up again.
“What was it you thought I’d like again?”
“The pork tenderloin with the berry salsa,” Rebecca says, pointing it out on his menu without having to look over. She thinks about it every time she sees it on there.
“Ooh, yum,” Ted nods. “You goin’ with the stuffed salmon or the turkey and squash tonight?”
There’s seldom a restaurant Rebecca has been to that Ted doesn’t know her favourites at, whether he’s been there or not.
“Salmon night, I think,” Rebecca smiles.
“Oh, look, babe, they’ve got spinach ravioli,” he says, pointing it out to Jen, who gives a low, approving whistle to her favourite dish.
Rebecca finds it funny how plain the word babe sounds on his lips. It sounds like less of a pet name than boss does, as though he just picked one out at random for her and stuck with it.
“Sold,” Jen smiles, snapping her menu shut, a habit Rebecca assumes she picked up from Ted.
“Found something, love?” Rebecca asks Matthijs.
The pet name sounds impersonal to Ted; he’s heard her call most of her friends, including him, that at one point or another.
“You know I can’t say no to a tortellini,” Matthijs replies.
Rebecca chuckles, almost dull to Ted’s ear. It’d sounded much warmer at the hostess table.
Ted stacks everyone's menus at the edge of the table just as the waitress arrives, and they all give their orders.
“Oh, and can we get started with those shrimp tartlets,” he adds just before the woman leaves.
Rebecca smiles to herself, it’s her favourite appetizer here, and Ted has decided it’s what everyone's having tonight.
“Shall we toast?” Rebecca says, raising her glass.
“To a first date,” Ted smiles, raising his. “Well, first double date.”
The four glasses clink, and are sipped simultaneously.
A slightly awkward silence falls over the table, mostly because, as it turns out, Ted and Rebecca care very little about learning anything about each other’s partners.
“How is the gala coming along? Ted tells me you work day and night to get it planned,” Jen chimes in eventually.
“Oh, it’s no problem. Routine at this point, Ted is prone to exaggerating,” Rebecca chuckles.
“Nuh-uh,” he shakes his head. “Boss is bein’ modest. Y’all wouldn’t believe how many pinboards can fit in this woman’s office.”
“Yes, well, you keep me well fueled at least,” Rebecca smiles at Ted, who gives her a proud grin.
“Such a great baker, isn’t he?” Jen smiles and reaches across the table to squeeze Ted’s hand. “I always look forward to my monthly brownie restock.”
Rebecca doesn’t quite know what to do with the knowledge that Ted brings her biscuits daily, and his girlfriend is only granted baked goods once a month.
“What do you like baking, Ted?” Matthijs asks.
“Shortbread is kinda my signature,” he replies.
“Kind of?” Rebecca gasps mockingly. “Everyone at Nelson Road knows they’re sacred.”
“Only sacred ‘cause you don’t let anyone else eat ‘em,” Ted smiles.
Rebecca ignores Matthijs’ slightly annoyed look; he’s never been a fan of Ted’s biscuits with the boss habit. He’s brought it up during almost every argument they’ve ever had.
“You could always just make them for everyone else,” Rebecca chuckles, knowing he never would.
“Biscuits with AFC Richmond dun’t really have the same ring to it,” Ted jokes.
Rebecca rolls her eyes and takes another sip of wine just as the appetizers are arriving.
Ted quickly shuffles the platter to the middle, and everyone digs in quickly, all seemingly happy to have a distraction from having to talk to each other beyond a few words of approval from everyone regarding the shrimp tartlets.
The plate disappears quickly, and when it comes down to the last one, without thinking twice, Ted slides the plate to Rebecca without asking anyone else if they’d like it, and Rebecca mutters a little thanks to him as he smiles happily.
Once the appetizer plate is cleared away, Rebecca nudges Ted to let her out so she can use the restroom.
“Good plan,” Jen says, standing up too and following alongside Rebecca.
Jen is touching up her mascara in the mirror as Rebecca comes out of the stall.
“That dress is just so pretty,” Jen says, smiling at Rebecca in the reflection.
“Thank you,” Rebecca smiles. “Love the green,” she adds, nodding to Jen’s number.
“Oh, thanks, Ted got it for me.”
Rebecca knows that, because the reason Ted got it is because it came in a promotional box from a designer Rebecca couldn’t have possibly used all the dresses from.
“How are you and Ted?” Rebecca asks, pulling her tube of lip gloss out of her bag.
She really is curious, because she gets very little from Ted, and she’s not entirely sure he’d be honest with her if she pried.
“Good, yeah,” Jen smiles, but Rebecca notices the slight hesitation in her voice. “He’s so funny and kind.”
“I’m sensing a but,” Rebecca says before she thinks better of it.
“No, no, it’s good, really, I know you guys are friends I won’t bother you with the gory details,” Jen chuckles.
“Oh, come on,” Rebecca says. “Girl talk in the loo? Stricter policies here than doctor-patient confidentiality. Besides, maybe I can help.”
“It’s really nothing bad, it’s just… we’ve been together six months now, and I’m still not really sure how committed he is. It’s like, I feel like he loves me, but he’s never said it.”
That’s very interesting to Rebecca.
“And you’ve said it?” she asks, keeping her tone neutral.
“Yes, couple months ago. We never really talked about it since,” Jen confesses.
“Well, if there’s one thing I know about Ted, it’s that you feel his love a lot more often than you hear it.”
That’s what Rebecca told herself when she never heard it from him, and what she tells herself she’s doing when she never says it to him.
Jen nods and closes her tube of mascara.
“He seems to be worth waiting for, anyway,” Jen smiles happily.
“Yes, he is,” Rebecca says, smiling softly to herself as she finishes touching up her gloss, just barely catching an inquisitive look from Jen in the mirror. Perhaps she should’ve kept that last thought to herself.
Ted taps the table, looking around awkwardly as he’s left alone with Matthijs.
“Anythin’ new with planes these days?” he asks after the second minute of silence ticks by.
“No. Not much. They work pretty well as they are,” Matthijs replies.
“Mm,” Ted nods. “Except those Boeing 737s,” Ted chuckles, glancing over at Rebecca’s spot before remembering she’s not there to laugh at his joke.
There’s another minute of silence.
“Like the stache,” Ted says.
“Thanks,” Matthijs chuckles. “Rebecca likes it.”
That’s very interesting to Ted, who scratches at his own momentarily.
Oh, thank god, Rebecca and Ted both think as she and Jen rejoin the table.
Ted stands and instinctively places a hand on Rebecca’s back as she slides back into the booth. Jen doesn’t seem to mind, or maybe doesn’t notice, but Matthijs’ brow raises ever so slightly.
The first two years hadn’t been perfect, but since Ted’s return, the relationship has been, in a word, strained. The distance helps a little that way; it’s simple. He’s in Amsterdam, she’s not, and sometimes they’re together. Everything is always planned out ahead of time. Uncomplicated. She never has to choose him over anything. Or anyone.
That is, until the conversation of one of them moving comes up, and Rebecca has to steer clear because she doesn’t want to move, and she doesn’t know how to tell him she likes the distance, because she knows there’s really no way of saying that without it sounding like she’s not committed to him. She’s not sure it would work if they lived closer, much less together. The problem is there’s nothing wrong with him. He’s just not…
“Y’all think they teach you how to make these when you get a job here, or it’s just like… prior experience needed,” Ted asks, curiously inspecting his napkin that’s folded into the shape of a flower.
“Worried you won’t be qualified?” Rebecca chuckles.
“Hey,” Ted smiles at her. “Last time I got hired for a job I wasn’t qualified for, it worked out pretty great.”
“Fair point,” Rebecca smiles and gives his thigh an affectionate tap.
“Why did you hire Ted?” Jen asks curiously.
Ted and Rebecca exchange a look, a quick, silent conversation, trying to decide what to say. They settled on the truth.
“Rebecca was schemin’ tryin’ to destroy the club and hired me in hopes of ruinin’ it as revenge on her ex-husband,” Ted says plainly.
“Oh,” Jen says, not entirely sure what to think.
“It was a great plan,” Rebecca chuckles. “I just hadn’t counted on Ted winning everyone, including myself, over.”
“I’m very hard to resist,” Ted jokes, and realizes he maybe should directed that joke at Jen… too late. He likes hearing Rebecca laugh more than Jen, though. Plenty more on that with Dr. Sharon next week.
The table chats for a little while longer as they wait for the food, nothing more than surface-level conversations except for Ted and Rebecca’s anecdotes about one another whenever something vaguely reminds them of something.
Ted refills Rebecca’s wine before it empties, and Jen’s after the fact.
Rebecca's hand lands somewhere on Ted on four separate occasions, and almost grazes Matthijs’ fingers once.
The food arrives, and Ted grabs Rebecca’s plate to pass it over to her as it does, not before commenting on how good the stuffed salmon looks.
“Oh, you weren’t kiddin',” he says as he takes his first bite of pork. “This is delicious.”
“I knew you’d like it,” Rebecca chuckles through a bite of her own. “I put it on the menu for the gala this year.”
“You spoil me, Boss,” Ted smiles and takes another bite. “How’s that ravioli tastin’, babe?”
“Delicious,” she replies, covering her mouth as she chews.
“Oh, I pulled a waiter on you. Askin’ you questions with your mouth full,” Ted chuckles, as does Jen, and he feels Rebecca’s eyes roll. The kind of eye roll when his joke isn’t quite good enough to earn a chuckle, but Ted enough to earn that reaction.
“You want some?” Jen asks.
“No, thank you,” he replies, shaking his head. “Still not a fan of spinach in ravioli. Stealin’ ground beef’s job. Cruel world.”
Rebecca does chuckle this time, already sectioning off a bite of her own meal for Ted to try. She already knows Matthijs doesn’t like the salmon here, so he can’t get upset she doesn’t offer him any. It’s partly why she chose it tonight. She also thinks Ted will like it more than he would’ve liked the turkey and squash.
Ted works a piece of his own food onto Rebecca’s plate at the same time. A habit that comes from many lunches and dinners in her office and at each other's houses, and sometimes at a restaurant.
They both shake their heads, agreeing that their own meals are better, as they always do.
The ladies briefly chat about Jen’s work in marketing, and Ted chimes in when he thinks Jen undersells her work and again when he wants to tell Rebecca about a funny ad he saw last night that he’d have to show her later.
Matthijs stays mostly quiet, and Rebecca senses an argument awaits her later tonight.
The plates are emptied and cleared, and they each enjoy a little sundae before the waitress returns.
“Will we be paying together or separately tonight?” she asks.
“Two cheques please and thank you,” Ted says.
“I told you I wanted to pay for everyone, Ted,” Rebecca says as the woman walks away.
“And I told you no way, Jose,” Ted smiles. He would’ve paid for everyone, but honestly, he doesn’t really want to have to pay for Matthijs.
“Thank you so much for making the reservation, Rebecca. This place is incredible,” Jen says.
“Of course,” Rebecca smiles. “Maybe Ted will finally trust my recommendations now.”
“Hey!” Ted retorts. “I always trust your recommendations, but I could tell by the font on the website that this place was way too fancy to try out without your guidance. And I was right.”
“I’m sure you would’ve managed,” Rebecca chuckles.
The waitress returns with one bill and sets it between Ted and Rebecca. “I’ve got the salmon and pork over here,” she says, and then sets the second between Jen and Matthijs, “and the ravioli and tortellini over here.”
“Oh,” Ted says, “actually, that’s supposed to be the pork and the ravioli together.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you had the salmon,” the waitress tells Rebecca.
“I did, yes,” Rebecca nods.
“Oh–,” the waitress says, confused.
“Me and him are together,” Jen cuts in, “and those two.”
“Oh– I’m so sorry! I thought– I’m sorry!” The woman blushes, reaching for the bills.
“Oh, hey, it’s no biggie,” Ted says, stopping her. “Sure it winds up bein’ ‘round the same anyway,” Ted smiles, keeping the bill to himself. Truthfully, Rebecca’s is at least twenty pounds more than Jen’s meal. More truthfully, he doesn’t care as long as he’s not paying for the tortellini.
“Are you sure? It’ll only take a second to switch it,” she replies.
“It’s no problem, she cuts my cheques anyway,” Ted jokes, gesturing to Rebecca. “Only fair she gets some back every so often.”
Rebecca chuckles, no arguments there.
“That work for you?” Ted asks Matthijs.
“No problem,” he says. Rebecca knows the rest of the table won’t pick up on the twinge of frustration, but she does.
Ted offers a hand to Rebecca to help her out of the booth before doing the same to Jen, not giving Matthijs a chance to do so for Rebecca. Accidentally on purpose, maybe.
Ted keeps his fingers laced in Jen’s, and Rebecca uses both hands to hold her handbag on her shoulder.
“Well, this was a hoot,” Ted says as they get outside, making no mention of doing it again. Maybe if Roy and Keeley were also there.
“Yes, lovely evening, thank you both,” Rebecca smiles at Ted and Jen.
“It was so great to finally meet you, Rebecca,” Jen replies.
“Likewise,” Rebecca replies. “See you Sunday, Coach?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Ted nods. “Liverpool awaits.”
Ted and Matthijs offer each other a nod and nothing else before the group splits in two.
Ted and Jen wander down the sidewalk as Rebecca and Matthijs take her car.
“You have a fun night, babe?” Ted asks as they walk hand in hand down the moonlit street. Jen’s brown hair always looks darker at night, same as his.
“Yeah,” Jen nods unenthusiastically. “Nice people.”
Ted brows furrow at her tone.
“Hey, you okay?”
“What’s the deal, Ted?” she asks after a few moments of quiet.
“The deal?” he asks, even though he knows where this is headed.
“Don’t play dumb, please. Give me that, at least,” Jen says.
“Sorry,” Ted says, softening. “There’s no deal. We’re friends, Jen, I swear. There’s never been anything between us.”
Jen nods and stays quiet for a handful of paces.
“I think that’s worse,” she says quietly.
“Why?” Ted asks.
“It’d be easier to understand, to swallow, if something had happened and it hadn’t worked out, and you guys were friends because you chose to be friends,” she explains.
“We did choose to be friends,” Ted replies, trying to figure out her thinking. He’d know what Rebecca is thinking.
“Not really. You were friends, and then you moved away, and then you came back, and she had Matthijs,” Jen sighs, dropping Ted’s hand. He doesn’t fight to get it back.
“Nothing happened, I know that. And I’m not accusing you of anything, I trust you completely,” she says.
“Okay,” Ted says, brows still tight. “Good. I’m glad. ‘Cause I’d never do anythin’ to hurt you, you know that, right?”
“I know, Ted,” Jen says softly. “I know. I just don’t know that you’d ever put me first.”
“Of course, I put you first,” Ted says quickly.
“Before her? Because you didn’t tonight.”
Ted pauses, guilt pooling in his chest.
“I’m sorry I–”,” he starts.
“Ted. I love how much you love your friends, how caring you are to everyone around you. But you can’t spend the whole night filling her glass first, ordering her wine, helping her up first, and honestly tell me you put me first,” Jen says firmly, stopping at the top of the stairs to the tube.
“I’m sorry, Jen,” Ted says again. “I didn’t–”
“I know. I know it’s not on purpose, you’re not that kind of man,” Jen smiles faintly, the slight wetness to her eyes catching the streetlights. “But I don’t think you’ll ever love me like that. The way you talk about her… look at her… I think I’ll feel like you’re just with me because you can’t be with her.”
Ted's eyes get a little wet, too, not because of the impending end to the relationship, but because everything she’s saying is true. He’ll never love someone like he loves Rebecca, and he’d be dammed to let something as pure as love hurt someone like Jen.
“I’m so sorry, Jen. You don’t deserve this,” Ted says, quieter now.
“I know. I’m sorry, too. You’re a really good man, Ted,” she smiles, choking up ever so slightly.
“You’re incredible, Jen, really. I wanted this to work, I really did.”
“I know, Ted. We don’t really get to pick in the end, though, do we?” she asks.
“S’pose not,” Ted chuckles sadly. “I’m still sorry, though.”
“It’s okay, Ted. I think I’ve known for a while. Just didn’t want to admit it,” she says.
Ted nods, he’s known, too. For god knows how many years now.
“So this is it?” Ted asks, knowing the answer.
“Yeah, I think that’d be best,” Jen smiles, wiping a stray tear away.
Ted nods again and wraps her in a tight hug, resting his chin on her shoulder. They hold each other for a long moment before letting go.
“Get home safe,” Ted says with a soft smile.
“Thank you, Ted. You too,” she says before disappearing down the stairs, leaving Ted alone in the street.
Before he thinks about where he’s going, he starts wandering towards Rebecca’s place. The walk is long enough that he’ll be able to figure out what the heck he’s going to say when he gets there.
He’s glad that he’ll really only have good things to look back on. Just someone kind and funny and caring who’d put up with him for six months. Someone who was a lot of very great things, but who just wasn’t…
Rebecca shuts the door behind her and Matthijs as they step inside her home. The car ride had been quiet and the tension thick.
“Are we going to argue or are we not talking tonight?” she says. There’s nothing she hates more than the silent treatment.
“Depends,” Matthijs replies, dropping his suit jacket on top of his suitcase that hasn’t made it upstairs yet. “Are you going to be honest with me?”
“I’m always honest with you.” Bullshit.
“Bullshit. Never. Never when it comes to him,” Matthijs snaps. “Do you know what it’s like to sit across the table from you and Ted?”
“He’s my friend, Matthijs,” Rebecca says, kicking her shoes off and padding to the kitchen.
“The waitress didn’t think so,” he says, following her in and landing across the counter from her.
“She made an innocent mistake,” Rebecca says, her tone steely.
“A mistake you did not correct her on.”
“Jen did,” Rebecca retorts.
“Yes, several moments after you had the chance too.”
Fair point, she supposes.
“Besides, an easy mistake to make given how handsy you are with him,” Matthijs spits.
“Fucking handsy?” Rebecca scoffs.
“Yes, fucking handsy,” Matthijs voice rises. “And sharing food, letting him fill your wine.”
“I didn’t let him do that,” Rebecca argues.
“Well, I can’t exactly argue with him now, can I?” Matthijs scowls.
“Why not?”
“Because you’d take his side.”
Rebecca pauses, sucking her teeth.
“Exactly,” Matthijs waves dismissively, turning away from her for a moment to take a breath and rub his head. “He’d be able to convince you to move to Amsterdam.”
“He’d never fucking ask me to uproot my life and move to another country,” Rebecca mutters just loud enough for him to hear.
“No, that’s true,” he says, turning back to her. “Because he’d just follow you anywhere. In fact, he already has.”
“He’s not here for me, Matthijs. Don’t play that card with me. It’s embarrassing.”
“No,” he snaps. “What’s embarrassing is giving three years of your life to a woman who has never once considered seriously committing to you.”
“Of course I have! I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t!” She’s almost yelling now.
“Then why don’t you consider moving!?”
“Because my life is here!”
“And when am I going to be part of that life?” Matthijs' neck is strained as he spits the words out.
“You are part of my life.”
“Please,” Matthijs scoffs. “One or two weekends a month is not your life. And it’s not just me, Rebecca. It’s my daughter. She loves you, but I don’t think you’d ever be as happy to have her doing homework in your office.”
That snaps something in her.
“Don’t you fucking bring Henry into this,” Rebecca warns, raising a finger at him.
Matthijs raises his hands in frustrated surrender.
“Just answer me this, Rebecca. Why did you bring him back?” Matthijs asks.
“Because I needed a new gaffer,” Rebecca replies quickly. Her stock answer.
“Plenty of options. And yet, you flew to Kansas. Fucking Kansas to bring him back here. You barely fly to Amsterdam for me.”
“We needed him,” she shrugs. Her stock follow-up.
“No,” Matthijs shakes his head. “I think you wanted him here. Football was just an excuse.”
He pauses again and takes a few more deep breaths.
“I can’t keep having this fight, Rebecca. I can’t keep being second place.”
“You’re not second place,” Rebecca retorts. She’s not even sure why she’s arguing anymore.
“I am, though,” Matthijs says, exasperated. “The only reason we’re still together is that you’ve never had to pick between us, because I live in another country.”
“You could’ve moved, too,” Rebecca says. At this point, she’s just trying to convince herself that she’s not the party at fault in this fated demise. To convince herself it’s actually something Matthijs did.
“You never asked me to,” Matthijs says, the fight draining out of him.
There’s a silence, and Rebecca knows what it is. It’s him giving her the chance to ask now. She doesn’t.
Matthijs sighs and nods.
“Okay then,” he nods, tapping the counter. “That's your choice then? You choose him?”
Rebecca clenches her jaw. Is she really willing to let go of three years because of someone she refuses to say out loud she loves? Is she willing to break up with Matthijs in favour of the possibility of someday maybe having Ted?
“Yes,” she says firmly. “I choose him.”
Matthijs nods; he’s used up all his fight over the last year, and he knows there’s no coming back from an admission like that.
“Well, I think I’ll be getting a hotel tonight.”
Rebecca just nods, turning to her fridge to grab a glass of water. She should probably be sadder about this, but it feels like a weight’s been lifted.
They don’t bother with heartfelt goodbyes, just a courteous end to something that has been in a downward spiral since Rebecca got on that flight to Kansas.
She watches him go, and at least does him the courtesy of letting him take her driver, and then she’s left alone in her house. She finishes her glass of water and takes a moment to collect her thoughts before she decides there’s really only one place for this night to take her.
Ted’s place.
She puts a jacket on over her dress and slips into some sneakers, and when she opens her door–
“Ted!”
They both jump, Ted’s arm half raised to knock on the door.
“Rebecca!” he replies.
He’d come up with exactly zero things to say on his walk here.
“Matthijs?” he asks.
“Over,” Rebecca says with a sort of melancholic smile. Not sad, just… over. “Jen?”
Ted just shakes his head. “We idiots for bein’ the only ones who didn’t see it?”
“No,” Rebecca chuckles, stepping aside to let him in.
“No?” Ted asks, toeing his shoes off.
“No,” she repeats. “We’re idiots for never admitting to seeing it.”
“Mm,” Ted nods with a smile. “Very true. We gonna be idiots who never do anythin’ about it?” he asks, stepping closer to her, almost touching.
“I don’t know? Are we?” she asks, voice lower, eyes dipping to his lips as his to the same.
“I don’t think so,” he whispers.
The kiss is hungry, desperate, a crashing of lips, a flurry of hands finding waists, backs, hair. The taste of each other, the feel, are the only things on their minds.
Rebecca doesn’t think before she starts tugging his jacket off, and Ted doesn’t helps is down.
His hands move to his tie to loosen it, and their kisses are sloppy as they try to move through the house without breaking apart. They don’t care about the awkward angle of Rebecca leaning down and walking backwards up the stairs to keep kissing him as he steadies her with his hands on her hips.
They don’t care about the buttons she pops off his shirt when they make it to her bedroom, and she tugs it off him. Their lips only separate to let Ted’s undershirt by, and Rebecca’s hands glide over every inch of skin it reveals, nails digging gently into his sides to pull him closer.
“God, Rebecca,” he groans, lifting her onto her bed and crawling on top of her, her legs parting without hesitation to let him settle over her.
Ted’s lips trail down her jaw and suck softly at her neck, and he smiles when it draws a sound out of her.
“Sound so perfect,” he mutters, coaxing another soft moan out of her with his lips on her pulse point.
He trugs the straps of her dress off her shoulders slowly, following the path with his mouth. Then he sits back on his heels, bringing her up with him so she can shrug the straps off, the dress pooling at her waist and revealing a lace black bra to him.
She’s never felt a gaze as loving and desperate as his.
“So beautiful, Rebecca… God… could just stare forever,” he mutters, his hands sliding up her sides to her ribs.
“Another time maybe?” she teases, reaching back to unhook her bra and letting it drop.
“Yeah… yeah, definitely rather be touchin’ right now,” he mumbles, eyes roaming every inch of her bare chest.
“Please do,” Rebecca chuckles hungrily as he lays her back down.
Her head barely touches the pillows before his mouth is on her breast, hot and wet and starving. He sucks her nipple into a peak, moaning against her before trading it in for the other, cupping both tits in his hands as he does.
“Fuck Ted,” Rebecca moans, legs wrapping around him to force him to grind down into her.
Lips trail lower, hiking her dress up to her waist and kissing across her hips, too overwhelmed to look at all of her right now. Like she said, plenty of time to stare later.
“Can I?” he asks, hooking his fingers under the waistband of her matching lace panties. “Want to taste you so bad, Rebecca… have no idea.”
“Please,” she pants, lifting her hips so he can tug her underwear down.
He doesn’t take his time, and Rebecca doesn’t want him to.
His mouth lands on her, and his moan is almost as loud as hers.
“Oh fuck,” she gasps, her fingers curling into his hair as his lips wrap around her clit.
He laps at her arousal and sucks at her clit with no real rhythm, too hungry to focus enough for that right now. Rebecca is hungry enough that it doesn’t matter. She could probably get off right now just from the sight of him between her legs and the sound of him devouring her.
He grips her thighs and pushes them back so his tongue can dip inside her, and she chokes through a breath and clenches around his tongue, shoving his face harder against her as she does.
“Ted–” she gasps as he curls his tongue inside her.
He does it once, twice, three times, pushing a little deeper before pulling it out to focus on her clit again instead.
She’s barrelling towards an orgasm as speeds only her rose toy has witnessed before, and she’s certain the grip in his hair must be painful.
It is, but Ted loves it.
He stares up at her, her arched neck and bowed back, and trades in one thigh for a breast as he sucks harder, swirling his tongue around it until her thighs clamp around him and she comes.
He laps her up, moaning as he does, and is careful not to put too much pressure on her sensitive clit, but not wanting to miss a drop of her.
“Taste incredible… need you again,” he mutters.
Rebecca tugs his head away, dragging him up before he can get another taste, and he whines slightly.
“Not now. I need you too much right now,” she pants, pupils blown.
Ted has no response to that beyond a shaky smile and hands fumbling at his belt.
Rebecca digs around in her nightstand as he does to find a condom and opens the wrapper as he pulls his boxers down enough to free himself.
Rebecca feels silly for thinking he might need a quick helping hand to get hard.
Ted feels cheeky asking if she’s wet enough as he rolls the condom on.
“Don’t be so smug about it,” Rebecca chuckles, parting her thighs as he slides his cockhead over her.
“Ego’s gonna be ridin’ this high for a long time, darlin’,” he smiles, bracing himself on his elbows over her.
“Deserved,” she smiles and reaches down.
Ted’s eyelids flutter as she grips the base of him and lines him up.
“Oh fuck,” their moans harmonize as he sinks into her with one roll of his hips.
It’s rushed and hurried in a way that can only happen from years of wanting, and tender and raw in a way that can only happen from years of loving.
It’s all needy thrusts and sloppy kisses, teeth and tongue, and nails on his back.
Their moans are unfiltered and unreserved. No room for hesitation or insecurity. Not with Ted. Not with Rebecca.
He’s a gentleman, so after a while, his hand slips between them down to where he’s driving into her, fingers finding her clit, and he struggles to kiss her when she starts to clench tighter.
“Fuck,” he groans, struggling to keep up the pace as he focuses on bringing her to the edge again.
Rebecca has long since stopped trying to say actual words, her mouth perpetually open for a steady stream of gasps and moans.
She tugs his head into the crook of her neck when she comes again, her breath hot in his ear.
“Fuckin’ incredible, Rebecca,” he pants, fucking her through it.
Rebecca has never felt so sexy. Which is strange to her, considering she looks like a dishevelled mess, hair sticking to her forehead, dress bunched at her waist, and she doesn’t want to know the state of her makeup.
But for Ted to want her this bad? She must look fucking divine.
Ted wants to be showering her in praise right now, but those brain circuits aren’t quite connecting anymore, so he hopes the desperation of him tells her enough.
Rebecca locks her legs around him, hands dropping to his ass, pulling him deeper with every snap of his hips and making it abundantly clear he won’t be pulling out, which he’s more than happy with.
He half-whimpers, half-chokes through a breath, hands curling into her hair as the back of her hand as he comes, muttering various syllables of her name as he does.
He collapses on top of her, both panting as her arms wrap around him and she peppers his neck with breathless kisses.
They just breathe for a while; words seem like a futile endeavour right now. Besides, they’ve spoken for years; they’ve never had this before.
Never had their lips on each other, their arms around bare skin, hands brushing gently. Never had the weight of him on her, her legs parted for him, the softness of her skin under his hands. Not a single thing about them has changed but this? This is new.
“Why’d we wait so long?” Rebecca chuckles after a while.
“‘Cause we’re idiots,” Ted smiles and rolls off of her, chest still heaving.
“No more of that,” Rebecca says, getting her dress off the rest of the way before curling against his side.
“Mmm. That’s an excellent plan,” Ted replies, tucking his arm under her and pulling her close so her head rests on his chest.
His hand rubs gently along her spine, relishing every inch of her, and his lips find her forehead.
“I love you, Rebecca.” He says it simply, because it’s not some grand confession, not really. It’s just finally saying it out loud, something they’ve both known for years. Something she’s felt for years, but it doesn’t make it any less good to hear.
“I love you, Ted,” she whispers, kissing the underside of his jaw.
They both think about apologizing for not saying it earlier, but neither does. Like they’ve both agreed that they’re not sorry about any of it, just happy they’re here now.
“Better let me stare all I want tomorrow,” Ted mumbles, adrenaline fading into exhaustion.
“All day,” Rebecca smiles, kissing his chest softly.
“Then I’m gonna take you apart so slowly, sweetheart… need to learn every inch of you…” He whispers, and Rebecca shudders at the thought.
“That’d better be a promise, Ted Lasso,” she teases softly.
“It is,” he whispers, half asleep. “Also promise to never let you go.”
Rebecca smiles and nuzzles into his chest. “I promise that, too. I’m all in, my love.”
Ted smiles lazily, turning onto his side to wrap his arms completely around her.
“And no more not sayin’ I love you out loud. Gonna hear it every day now,” he whispers.
“And I’ll never get tired of hearing it,’ Rebecca smiles and kisses him softly.
They fall asleep thinking they’ll have to do that date again properly sometime.
Summary: Ted hires one Rebecca Welton as Henry’s new piano teacher.
Chapter length: 6.6k
I.
~TL~
Ted cared a lot more about making London home for Henry than he had about making it home for himself, which has become more problematic as of late. Sometimes he isn’t quite sure why he is in London. He knows why. It’s just hard to remember sometimes.
He’s in London because Michelle had an excellent work opportunity, and the commute from Kansas would’ve been awful.
That was over three years ago.
Now he’s in London because Henry is in London, and every other week, Henry is with Ted, which means that every other week, Ted is fairly certain he’s the loneliest man on the face of the planet.
Which he thinks is a little unfair to think when he’s sitting next to Beard. He’s really not sure why Beard is in London. He’d visited when the divorce went through, and now he’s just… still here, which Ted loves, but Beard doesn’t fill the aching silence of his room at night or the empty side of his bed.
Except that one time they got drunk and fell asleep watching March Madness.
He gives Beard a pat on the back as he gets up from the bar and waves Mae goodnight. Lovely Mae, who knows to pour him a single pint when he’s at the Crown & Anchor for ‘Fish and Chip Fridays’ with Henry and knows to keep them coming any other night he shows up, which is most nights Henry is with Michelle.
The loneliness of his bedroom creeps through to the rest of the apartment those nights.
There’d been a woman, for a while, who would fill the space in his bed every so often. Florence, though she calls herself Sassy. He’d met her at a conference he spoke at. She was nice and attractive and knew exactly what she wanted. He knew that he was reserved for hotel rooms and nights she was passing through London, which he was fine with.
For a while.
Then his apartment would be quiet again the next day, and his bed would be empty, and he wanted more, and she didn’t. Ted now realizes that was a good thing, because he hadn’t wanted more because it was her; he’d wanted more because she was there. He always had a good time with her, but he thinks some nights it was lonelier to fall asleep with her than with no one at all.
Beard keeps offering to set him up, but all the women he knows are, well, like Beard. It took Ted about ten minutes into a date to realize that that personality archetype is much more suited to being Ted’s friend than his partner. He thinks even more than one Beard as a friend would be a bit much.
So, every other week, his apartment stays quiet, and every night, his bed stays empty, and the loneliness creeps a little deeper into his chest, squeezing his heart and clutching his throat.
He’d focused much more on finding friends for Henry than on finding friends for himself, which is how Henry wound up taking piano lessons. Unfortunately, at nine years old, he had already been late getting into it, and he didn’t befriend many of the five-year-olds in his class. Fortunately, he loved it.
He’d caught on quickly, which was nice, because Ted doesn’t think he would’ve survived another month of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.
He really enjoys hearing him play at home now, on the keyboard tucked in the corner of the living room. He thinks Beethoven sounds better played by slightly clunky fingers backtracking every few bars to correct a wrong note or a rushed rhythm.
He especially loves the ends of months, when Henry has all but mastered the tune, and it flows off his fingers, and Ted hums it when he’s cooking dinner.
Ted worries a lot these days, too. He worries that he’s not a good enough father for Henry, or maybe that he’s too much as he had been for Michelle. He worries about what will happen when Henry is off to college, and there is no every other week, and he skips over the pints, straight into whiskey at home, and his apartment is still achingly quiet. He worries about anything and everything, and nothing in particular.
Some nights, his ears ring, his eyes go fuzzy, his fingers tingle, and he can’t take a breath. So he sits at Henry’s piano bench and flicks on his metronome. Fifteen beats per minute. It’s easier than counting to four, and he tries to follow the ticking pendulum with his eyes.
TOK
Inhale.
TOK
Hold it.
TOK
Exhale.
He does it over and over. Sometimes it helps, and his breath settles, and his heart finds the right rhythm. Other times, he wears himself out and passes out with his head in his arms on the edge of the keyboard, and his chest still feels heavy in the morning.
It’s easier to get through the mornings when Henry is there. It’s easier to get breakfast ready when it’s not just for himself, and to pack Henry’s lunch, and to walk him to school. It’s easier to actually make dinner when he’s eating with his son. It’s easier to help Henry with school than to do his own work.
The irony, lately, of being a motivational speaker has not been lost on him. He doesn’t think the people at these conferences or team-bonding getaways would be quite so eager to listen to him if they knew him these days.
He’d cut down a little on the work after the divorce, never working on weeks he has Henry. Now he does a handful of events a month, sometimes less. He always says yes to the online events, which is funny, since he’d always hated doing the online stuff before. He preferred facing the people, engaging with them, feeding off their energy, and talking to them afterwards. Then it had started to drain him instead of recharge him. The online ones are easy. He turns on his camera, tells a story, and doesn’t have to come face to face with his own words.
When Henry’s not there, time passes so slowly the second hand might as well not be moving at all. He stares at the LEGO set they hadn’t quite finished yet, and at Henry’s jacket left on the floor that Ted had told him to pick up. He stares at the piano and wills it to play something, anything to fill the silence.
He curses himself every Friday morning when he has to clean up all his take-out containers and empty bottles littering his apartment.
Then he goes to pick up Henry, walks him home, and opens the door to an apartment that looks like not a day has passed since he’d been there last. His jacket is still on the floor, the instructions are open to the same page, and Ted’s beers are tucked away in the back of the fridge behind Henry’s favourite snacks.
But days have passed. Seven of them. And it’s starting to dawn on Ted that countering every great week with Henry with a miserable pit of loneliness is maybe not a great balance after all.
Being alone is fine. Being alone, he can handle. He’s okay with solo movie nights and sitting at a table for one. Being lonely, however, Ted can hardly bear. It took him a year to stop missing Michelle, another to be okay with being single, and another to realize he doesn’t want to be single.
He likes sharing things too much. He likes sharing the bench of a booth and the cushions of a couch. He likes sharing his popcorn and two straws in his milkshake. He likes sharing blankets and his shoulder to lie on. He likes sharing his sweaters and his silly little jokes. He likes sharing a laugh and a story. He likes sharing mornings and nights, and the drawers of his dresser. He likes sharing his breath and the taste of his lips. He likes sharing the warmth of his skin and the weight of his arms.
He likes sharing his life with someone, likes sharing theirs. He always has, and he’s positive he always will.
He searches the sea of kids for a familiar mop of brown hair and lights up when he sees it.
“Hey, bud!” Ted says as Henry picks up the pace for his last steps.
“Hey, Dad!” Henry replies, quickly wrapping his arms around Ted’s middle.
If there’s one thing Ted is especially grateful for, it's that being a twelve-year-old boy has not deterred Henry from hugging him in public.
“Good week, kiddo?” Ted asks, slinging his son’s backpack over his shoulder.
“Yeah! Awesome! I finally got a perfect score on my spelling test!”
The swapping z’s for s’s has been troublesome for the kid.
“Atta boy,” Ted says, ruffling Henry’s hair. “Sounds like we may be in for some celebratory fish ‘n chips after piano.”
“We always get fish and chips after piano,” Henry smiles up at Ted.
“Yeah, but they’re celebratory tonight.” Ted grins.
“They’re always celebratory.”
“Well, you’ve always got a lot of stuff worth celebratin’. Not my fault.”
Henry laughs as they carry on down the street. Sometimes thinking about that sound is the only thing that pulls Ted out of his own head. It always has been. Ever since the first little giggle the kid let out. All gums, chubby little fists bouncing by his sides. Ted still wonders how he can ever be sad, knowing he helped make Henry.
He put everything into being the best dad he could possibly be. He drove back home from conferences in the dead of night so he’d be around for breakfast. He relearned long division to help Henry with it. He memorized lines for school plays and helped coach every team Henry has ever played for, regardless of how little he knows about the sport.
It’s hard now, knowing he doesn’t need help brushing his teeth or getting dressed, and doesn’t need to crawl into his bed at night after a bad dream anymore. He can talk on his own, walk on his own, and get his own snacks from the cupboard.
Lately, there are a lot of days Ted feels like he needs help with all that.
There’s hardly enough time for Henry to grab a snack before they have to head upstairs to Miss Shipley’s flat for lessons.
“Got your books, kiddo?” Ted asks.
Henry, mouth full of crackers and cheese points to his backpack and nods. Ted grabs the music books out of the bag, and Henry shoves the last of his food in his mouth as Ted hurries him to the door.
It takes all of twenty seconds to get up to Miss Shipley’s flat, and Henry is still usually the last one to arrive, scales already being played by a couple of other students.
Ted sits in the corner with the other parents, never exchanging more than a few friendly words with any of them. They all seem nice enough, but Ted has been gently and not so gently scolded one too many times by Miss Shipley about talking while the kids practice, so Ted plays along with his fingers on his thighs.
“Mr. Lasso, could I have a quick word?” Miss Shipley says as the kids start packing up their things.
Shoot, had his finger drumming been too loud?
“Yes, ma’am,” Ted smiles at Henry, nodding for him to keep packing up as he wanders over to the teacher. “Sorry if I was bein’ distractin’, kids just got really got me groovin’ today.”
“Oh, no, nothing like that,” the old woman smiles politely. “Just, Henry’s been doing wonderfully lately.”
“Well, he’s got a great teacher.”
“Thank you, Mr. Lasso,” Miss Shipley says with a small chuckle. “It’s clear he practices plenty outside of the classroom as well.”
“Sometimes I wonder why I’m still payin’ for Apple Music,” Ted jokes, and Miss Shipley gives him a polite laugh.
“He’s a great kid, and I love having him, but–”
“Uh oh,” Ted interrupts. “No, wait, I should probably let you finish before I get jumpin’ to any conclusions about where this is headed.”
Miss Shipley gives him another polite smile, clearly used to his antics by now.
“Nothing bad. I think he’s just outgrown the group setting for lessons. If he’s serious about his playing and enjoys it, private lessons would be a great option for him.”
“Goin’ solo, huh? Never like when brands break up, but then again, might never have gotten Edge of Seventeen if Stevie Nicks had stuck around.”
“Or Maybe I’m Amazed by Paul McCartney!” Henry chimes in from across the room.
Ted points at him with a nod. “Or Maybe I’m Amazed.”
Miss Shipley keeps smiling, patiently waiting for the Lasso boys to get back on track.
“So, Henry goin’ solo?” Ted asks.
“Yes, if he’s interested,” she replies. “As much as I would love to take him, I’m afraid I’m booked solid at the moment, but I have some excellent teachers to recommend.”
“Well, alright then,” Ted says and turns to Henry. “Whaddya say, kiddo, you interested?”
“I mean, I love Miss Shipley,” he replies, “but if she thinks it’s best, I’m all in.”
Ted smiles, turning back to Miss Shipley, “Sounds like we’ll be needin’ some recommendations then.”
“Wonderful.” She smiles and pulls out a few business cards from her pocket.
“Mr Higgins is excellent, though he does teach more bass than piano,” she says, handing Ted the first card. “Dr. Fieldstone, PhD from the Royal Academy. A little tough, but very lovely and knows her stuff,” she adds, handing him the second.
“And Miss Welton, an old student of mine, actually. Incredible pianist,” she smiles, handing Ted the third card. “I should let you know, she’s only recently gotten into teaching, but I have no doubts she’ll be nothing short of exceptional.”
Ted looks down at the third card; plain white with sleek black cursive print embossed in the center.
Rebecca Welton
Music Teacher - Vocals & Piano
Ted runs his thumb over the print, strangely drawn to it.
“Oh, and,” Miss Shipley pipes up again, drawing Ted’s eyes away from the name. “She lives just across the Green.”
“Gonna quadruple our commute time, Dad,” Henry jokes.
“At least,” Ted chuckles. “But hey, she did learn from the best.”
Miss Shipley gives Ted a little laugh, accompanied by an appreciative smile.
“Well, looks like we’ve got a mighty important decision to be made over a basket of fish ‘n chips tonight,” Ted says, ruffling his son’s hair.
“And please don’t think I’m kicking you out,” Miss Shipley says playfully, “you’re welcome here as long as you want, but it is a great opportunity.”
“Hey, it’d be okay even if you were kickin’ us out,” Ted replies, “‘preciate the recs,” he adds, holding up the cards.
“Of course,” she says, following them to the door as they make their way out. “Excellent work as always today, Henry.”
“Thank you, Miss Shipley!” Henry grins. “I’m sure I’ll see you around even if you’re not my teacher anymore!”
“I hope so. And feel free to practice a little louder some days.”
“Forte,” Henry says.
“Exactly,” she smiles, opening the door to let them out.
The Lassos give her a wave as they head out, making their way back down to Ted’s apartment to drop off Henry’s stuff before they head to the Crown & Anchor for dinner.
“Alrighty, kiddo, it’s draft day,” Ted says, dramatically lining up the three business cards in front of Henry. “Big decision to be made. We’ve got Higgy Smalls, The Doc, and Miss Shipley’s very own protégé, Miss Welton.”
His finger lingers longer on the third card as he points to it, secretly hoping for reasons he can’t quite understand that Henry picks her.
The convenience, surely.
“What are you boys celebrating today?” Mae asks, dropping off Ted’s pint and Henry’s glass of milk.
“Henry here finally aced his spellin’ test,” Ted replies, beaming. “And, we’re pickin’ out a new piano teacher since Miss Shipley’s gettin’ tired of him.”
“She is not!” Henry retorts, laughing. “She just thinks private lessons would be better now.”
“That’s true,” Ted admits. “Plus, if she was gettin’ tired of either of us, it’d definitely be me.”
Mae chuckles at them, leaning over to look at the business cards laid out in front of Henry.
“Fiery that one,” Mae says, pointing at Miss Welton’s card. “Hasn’t been around in years.”
“You know her?” Henry asks.
“Oh yeah,” Mae replies. “Used to come in all the time as a girl. Sang here most Fridays for a while. Been probably fifteen years since I saw her last. Something to do with the prick she divorced, I reckon. If the tabloids know anything.”
Ted nods in acknowledgment, eyes drifting back down to the sleek black writing. Rebecca Welton. He feels a little odd hearing gossip about a woman he’s never met, but he can’t help but want to know more.
“Is she nice?” Henry asks.
“If you deserve it,” Mae smiles.
“I think I deserve it,” Henry says, looking between Ted and Mae.
“You absolutely do. Not sure about your dad, though,” Mae jokes, nodding discreetly towards Ted with an affectionate tap on his back.
The three of them laugh, and Mae leaves them to it.
“Gettin’ some pretty glowin’ reviews for Miss Welton, hey bud?” Ted says.
“Yeah, she’s definitely the one,” Henry says, tapping her card on the table. “Should we text her?”
“Think we should probably check in with your mom before we go changin’ things up,” Ted says. “Lotsa time, kiddo.”
Henry nods, and they clink their glasses before taking a sip.
They catch up about school over dinner and brainstorm activities for the weekend, and Ted coaxes an update on Phoebe, the girl in Henry’s class that he adamantly denies having a crush on, but absolutely does.
They stop by the bar to say goodbye to Mae on their way out, and Ted introduces Henry to the masterpiece that is The Goonies before he gets ready for bed.
“Got your teeth brushed, bud?” Ted calls out as he heads down the hall.
“Two seconds!” Henry calls back.
Ted hears the sink turn on and off before Henry emerges from the bathroom just in front of Ted to lead him towards his bedroom.
Henry plops himself down on his bed and grabs his phone off his nightstand as Ted leans over the headboard to see the screen.
The FaceTime rings twice before Michelle picks up.
“Hi, Mom!” Henry says, waving at the screen.
“Hey, Henry!” Michelle replies. “Ted,” she adds politely.
There’s no ill will between them. They’re not friends, but they’re always friendly. An amicable divorce in the end, once the initial shock wore off and they adjusted to being there for Henry and less so for each other.
“Sorry for intrudin’,” Ted replies with a little wave. “Not gonna take a minute, me ‘n Henry just gotta talk to you real quick about piano lessons.”
“No problem, Ted. Everything okay?”
“Oh, heck yeah,” Ted smiles. “I’ll let Henry give you the rundown.”
“Miss Shipley says I’m good enough now that I should start doing private lessons!” Henry says excitedly.
“Wow! That’s great, Hen!” Michelle replies, and Ted gives him a proud smile.
“Yeah! But she’s too busy, so she gave me some other options, and we picked one who lives really close by, so it’s still nice and easy, but we wanted to check with you to make sure it’s okay. She used to be Miss Shipley’s student! Miss Welton.”
“If your dad is okay with it, that sounds perfect,” Michells says.
“Awesome!”
“I’ll get in touch with her then,” Ted chimes in. “I’ll send you the details when it’s sorted, but he’ll probably still be with Miss Shipley next week.”
“Thanks, Ted.”
“‘Course. Night, Michelle,” he says with a little smile, and she returns the farewell.
“Alright, kiddo, lights out as soon as you’re done chattin’ with your mom, okay?” Ted says, running his fingers through the kid’s hair as he stands up straight.
Henry nods, “Goodnight, Dad. Love you.”
“I love you, too, bud, see you in the mornin’,” Ted says, smiling as he shuts the door behind him.
He pads to the kitchen and opens the fridge, his bottles of beer peeking out behind a collection of yogurt drinks and stringed cheese. He stares at them for a few moments. He never has more than the one at the pub when Henry’s around, even if he’s gone to bed. He cares more about setting a good example for his son than he does about the slight relief of a little buzz. As if two pints four hours apart could even offer him that.
His eyes drift to the liquor cabinet above the fridge. He shuts his eyes and takes a few deep breaths, and then hears Henry’s laugh down the hall and reaches for the pitcher of water instead.
When he gets to the couch and pulls out his phone, the business cards fall out of his pocket, Miss Welton’s landing on top. All white cardstock and elegant print staring up at him.
Ted sets the other two on the coffee table and keeps hers as he sits down, flipping it over to find her phone number and an email address.
He debates far too long for someone contacting his son’s potential new piano teacher on whether to text her or email, and then he thinks of the state of his inbox and decides someone with a name like Rebecca Welton should not be sent to that bottomless pit of unread emails and spam.
Then he debates, once again for far too long, whether it’s too late to be sending a text. It’s Friday night, and no one should be subjected to work-related messages on a Friday night. Then again, she could easily ignore it and get back to him when she feels like it. Miss Shipley had called her fiery, he doesn’t want to get off on the wrong foot.
He decides that if he’s already worrying so much about a silly text, he should probably just send it now.
[9:45 PM]
Hello, Miss Welton,
Miss Shipley was kind enough to give me your info. I’m looking to sign my son Henry up for some lessons and you’re right up at the top of our list.
If you’ve got any openings, let me know 😁
Ted Lasso
He types out the message. Awfully formal for a text message. Maybe he should email her instead? Or add another emoji somewhere? Add a typo to make it look more natural? Less punctuation?
Maybe you should just send the stupid text, Ted, he thinks to himself.
[9:51 PM]
Hello Miss Welton👋👋
I’m looking to sign my son Henry up for some lessons. The wonderful Miss Shipley passed along your info along with a pretty recommendation.
Shoot me a text or a call or carrier pigeon if you’ve got any openings 😁
No rush 😁
Ted Lasso
Much better. Right?
He adds another waving emoji, then deletes two of the three before he sends the message.
Then, against his better judgment, he opens his browser and types her name into the search bar, looking for those tabloids Mae had mentioned and clicks on the first one from around four years ago.
HOUSE OF CARDS: He Keeps the Women, She Keeps the Properties
Real estate mogul Rupert Mannion has allegedly split from his wife of over a decade, Rebecca Mannion, now Welton. Years of infidelity and emotional abuse were cited as reasons for the divorce, according to multiple sources close to the ex-couple.
Mr. Mannion doesn’t appear to be too heartbroken, spotted yesterday with 30-year-old model and fashion influencer known as Bex.
Rebecca Welton has obtained over half of Rupert Mannion’s vast portfolio, comprising commercial and residential buildings and homes around the world.
Miss Welton remains unavailable for comment.
The other articles seem to be much of the same. He cheated and was seemingly an overall awful human being, and she left. Ted can’t help but feel a little proud of the stranger.
There’s a picture of her and Rupert, who looks like an evil turkey, right above the one of him and Bex.
Miss Welton is pretty, no doubt about it, but he finds it hard to believe that she’s a woman Mae would refer to as being fiery. Her smile is reserved, and her eyes don’t match the celebratory spirit of the ribbon-cutting.
He doesn’t even know her, but he feels bad for staring so long at a picture of her from a time she was clearly struggling with so much. He thinks it must be a little like how he looks in pictures these days.
Ted looks for more articles, maybe a more recent picture, but comes up empty-handed. Nothing except a few articles about her selling off some of the properties a couple of years ago. Other than that, she’s all but disappeared off the internet. Hidden away, just across the Green.
He half-wonders if she’s as lonely as he is, and then immediately feels terrible for even putting that thought into the universe. If there’s any truth to the articles, he figures the marriage was probably the lonely part for her.
He heads to his bedroom, the light in the crack under Henry’s door long since gone out, and finds himself in the familiar, aching loneliness of his bed.
Ted falls asleep as he does every night, on his side, a pillow clutched to his chest.
The weekend is, thankfully, full of Henry. At home watching movies, practicing piano, working on a science project, playing catch on the Green, and on Sunday, they catch a game at Nelson Road to watch Henry’s favourite player, Jamie Tartt. Ted is still apprehensive at best about soccer, but it’s hard to dislike it too much when it makes Henry smile so big.
He hears back from Miss Welton on his way home from dropping Henry off at school on Monday morning.
[9:07 AM]
Hello, Mr. Lasso,
Is Henry looking for voice or piano lessons?
He answers as soon as he steps through his front door.
[9:12 AM]
He’s very enthusiastic about singing but I think it’d be better for everyone if we stuck to the keys.
She’s very polite about reacting to his message with a little HAHA bubble before her next text.
Perfect!
Any day of the week in particular?
I have openings every day of the week at the moment.
He’s been doing Fridays but whatever works 😁
Except Tuesdays he’s got soccer after school
I’m going to assume you meant to say football.
Fridays work great. 4 pm?
Oops 😬 sorry still not used to that
My football is the one with the funny shaped ball 🏈
Fridays at 4 is perfect 😁
Gonna finish up the month with Miss Shipley can we start next week?
I’ll pencil him in.
Awesomesauce 😁😁
The week is much of the same. Ted putters around the house all day, answering a couple of emails if he’s feeling particularly motivated, which he rarely is, and then Henry comes home, and he’s okay again.
On Monday, they finally finish up the LEGO set and play more games of Madden than he’d be comfortable telling Michelle.
On Tuesday, he watches Henry’s game, just a friendly little after-school group that does scrimmages. Ted is pretty sure Henry only joined because Phoebe asked him. Lovely girl, scary uncle.
On Wednesday, Beard comes over for game night. He offers up an obscure game that would take longer to explain than they have time to play, as he always does, and they end up playing Apples to Apples. Beard is patiently waiting for Henry to be old enough to play Cards Against Humanity, and Ted is horrified by the idea of playing Cards Against Humanity with Beard.
On Thursday, Ted helps Henry build a diorama for his Geography class, and he spends a little extra time at the piano that night. He always does the day before lessons.
On Friday, Ted drops Henry off at school, and the second hand stops moving.
He gets home, and there’s still glue and popsicle sticks on the kitchen table, and he can still just barely hear the piano playing in his mind.
He heads into Henry’s room to strip the bed, pausing at the desk where Henry has left a little sticky note out.
Miss you Dad :)
Have a good week
Ted smiles and tucks it away in his pocket, and his gaze lingers on the Believe sign on the wall before he finally makes his way to the bed. He sits by the laundry machine the whole time the sheets are washing, and makes Henry’s bed neater than he’s made his own in years, only for it to sit empty for the next seven days.
He keeps the door to the bedroom open; it helps Ted for some reason, being able to pass by and see it even when Henry’s not there. He can almost see his not-so-little boy sleeping in it when he passes it at night. Sometimes it makes his apartment feel a little less empty just knowing the room is there, knowing Henry doesn’t think this place is lonely.
On his way to the Crown & Anchor that night, he finds himself staring across the Richmond Green, wondering which place Miss Welton lives in. Wondering if he’s ever passed her on the street without knowing.
There’s a pint waiting for him at the bar, and Ted gives Mae an appreciative nod as he sits. He hadn’t even noticed he brought the card with him until he’s tapping it on the wood and Mae is pointing it out.
“You get in touch with her?” she asks.
“Huh?” Ted says before realizing what she’s talking about. “Oh. Yeah. Did actually. Henry’s gonna start with her next week.”
“When you see her, tell her to get her arse back in here,” Mae says. “My karaoke machine is collecting dust.”
“Will do,” Ted smiles. “Though I might say it a lil’ differently.”
Mae chuckles and gives him a dismissive wave.
He cuts himself off after five tonight. Better than some nights, worse than others.
Beard comes by on Wednesday night, when Ted is usually at his worst. Almost a week without Henry and not quite able to tell himself he just has to get through one more day.
He’s long since stopped trying to cheer Ted up on these nights, but Ted knows it’s much better to be sad with Beard there than it is to be sad alone. They hardly even talk about it anymore. He feels guilty for still spilling his problems on Beard even three years after the divorce, and at this point, any conversation with Beard, Ted could have in his head, no point in burdening his friend with much of the same.
He’s grateful just to play darts with him, listen to him ramble on about some woman named Jane from Beard’s chess club with whom Beard has been chaotically involved with on and off pretty much since he arrived in England, and have a man a little steadier on his feet walk him home at the end of the night.
Ted apologizes for it, as he does every week, and Beard insists he’s happy to be here, and happy to keep coming back as many weeks as it takes, and he’ll be even happier the week he finally gets a real smile out of Ted again without Henry being around.
Ted’s always been thankful that Beard has never been pushy or judgmental about his trying to cope, or how long he’s been taking to pick himself up. He just patiently sits by his side and offers whatever little help Ted is willing to accept.
Then it’s Friday morning, and Ted is cleaning himself and his apartment up and picking Henry up from school. It’s the same as always: a happy recap of Henry’s week on their way home, and a quick snack. Only this time, they don’t walk up the stairs to Miss Shipley’s apartment; they head back out and walk across the Green to Miss Welton’s home.
It’s lovely, light brown brick and white accents. Classic mixing with modern in all the right places.
Henry knocks gently at the door, and it’s almost an entire minute before she opens it to them.
Ted is one-hundred percent certain he’s never walked by her on the street. He would’ve remembered.
Her blonde hair is almost glowing, parted on the left with a little curl framing the right side of her face as the rest falls just above her shoulders. She’s tucked her silky orange sleeveless blouse into a tight, high-waisted black skirt that leaves almost nothing to the imagination in terms of her silhouette.
Her smile is polite, less reserved than the one he’d seen in the photo, but he thinks there’s a fuller one hidden somewhere in her. And her eyes… god her eyes. Green, darker around the outside of the irises and almost golden just around her pupils.
And she’s staring at him, expectantly, like she’s waiting for a response, but she hasn’t said anything. Has she?
“Dad,” Henry says, tugging at the sleeve of Ted’s sweater. “She asked you a question.”
Ted’s attention darts down to his son, flustered and confused before he looks back at Miss Welton without a clue as to what she asked.
Henry comes to the rescue.
“Yeah, I’m Henry,” he says. “And this is my dad.”
Ted clears his throat and composes himself enough to hold out his hand. “Ted Lasso, and you must be Miss Welton.”
“Oh, please, call me Rebecca.” Her voice is enchanting. Not quite low, but there’s a tone to it that vibrates through him. “Miss Welton’s my father,” she adds, shaking his hand.
He’s not quite sure whether or not to laugh at that, so he gives her an awkward, half-smile, half-understanding-nod that he thinks almost makes her laugh.
“That was a joke,” she says.
“Right,” Ted chuckles. “Sorry. Rebecca.” He says it like he’s testing out the sound of her name. He likes it.
“Please, come in,” she says, and Ted realizes he’s still holding her hand. Her soft, gorgeous hand with perfect pianist fingers.
You’re being a weirdo, Ted, he thinks before he finally lets go.
She smiles at him, softer than before, and gives him the quickest little once-over like she’s trying to decide what exactly is wrong with him. Not rude or judgmental, just… what is wrong with him right now?
He and Henry follow Rebecca inside, and as they’re bending over to take off their shoes, Henry whispers to Ted.
“Are you okay, Dad?”
“Yeah, why?” Ted asks.
“You’re being weird.”
“Sorry, just… weird not being at Miss Shipley’s, isn't it?”
Henry clearly doesn’t buy it, but he doesn’t push for any more.
They follow Rebecca through her house towards the back, and Ted stares at the walls and ceilings. Anything not to watch at the sway of her hips.
She leads them to a room with a grand piano in the center and a little sitting area just outside.
“You’re welcome to come in, but I usually just take the student,” Rebecca says.
“Works for me,” Ted smiles. “You’re the boss.”
Rebecca smiles, and the nickname seems to catch her off guard for a split second before she points to the counter along the wall.
“Tea there if you’d like,” she says.
“Think I’ll stick to air for now, thanks,” Ted jokes as he sits down.
He earns a little chuckle from Rebecca, which he really likes. He especially likes it because he doesn’t think that joke was his best work.
He smiles at Henry as Rebecca ushers him into the piano room.
“So, how long have you been playing now, Henry?” she asks, sliding the door shut behind them.
Ted can’t quite hear everything during the lesson, but he loves everything he does hear. Henry laughing, the playful struggles of starting a new piece, playing only one hand at a time. He hears Rebecca’s laugh too, more polite than Henry’s, but it sends a warmth seeping through the walls to Ted. He hears her offer words of encouragement and gentle corrections, and Henry chats away between songs before Rebecca kindly gets him back on track. Henry has a tendency to get sidetracked sometimes. It’s a complete mystery who he gets that from.
Forty-five minutes pass before the door slides back open and sends Ted shooting to his feet.
“You have quite the talent on your hands here,” Rebecca says, smiling at Ted as she and Henry come out.
“I certainly do,” Ted says, ruffling his son's hair. “Whaddya think, kiddo, think you’ll be comin’ back next week?”
Not a question Ted would ordinarily ask in front of the teacher, but the laughing he heard and the grin on Henry’s face have him placing a pretty safe bet on the answer.
“Definitely!” Henry replies, and Rebecca gives him a big appreciative smile.
“Friday at 4 again?” she asks.
Henry looks up at Ted for an answer.
“Heck yeah,” Ted says. “Why don’t you just go ahead and pencil him in indefinitely?”
“Will do,” Rebecca smiles. “I’ll see you next week.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Henry says enthusiastically.
Rebecca walks them both back to the front hall, leaning on the doorframe as they put their shoes on.
“And hey,” Ted says on their way out. “Mae said I should tell you her karaoke machine is just beggin’ to get some use.”
“Oh,” she says. Her face falls slightly, and Ted’s stomach twists into knots. “Thank you.”
“Sorry– I didn’t mean to hash things up, just seems like she’s been missin’ seein’ you around,” Ted says, searching Rebecca’s face for a hint at why it might’ve bothered her.
“No, don’t apologize,” Rebecca says, offering a soft little smile. “I’ve been meaning to go back, just haven’t… found the time.”
Ted doesn’t know Rebecca, but he doesn’t think her being too busy is what’s been keeping her from the pub.
“Well, if you do,” Ted smiles, eyes still a little worried. He doesn’t say anything more, doesn’t tell her he hopes to see her there, although he really does. He thinks he’d really like to get to know her.
“Maybe we’ll see you there!” Henry says, “We always go after lessons.”
“Oh yeah?” Rebecca asks, perking up a little.
Shoot, maybe Ted should’ve said it.
“Yep, for fish and chips.”
“C’mon, kiddo,” Ted says, playfully ushering Henry to the door. “I think forty-five minutes is probably enough Lasso for Miss W– Rebecca.”
Rebecca chuckles and opens the door for them.
“Enjoy your fish and chips,” Rebecca smiles.
“Always do,” Ted says, smiling back as they step outside.
Henry is already hurrying down her front steps while Ted follows a little more slowly behind, looking back to where Rebecca is still lingering in the doorway, body curved gracefully as she leans against the frame, arms crossed.
He gives her a nervous little wave, and she gives him nothing but a smile and an amused raise of her brows as she stands up straight and slowly shuts the door. Right now, though, it kind of feels like everything.
“Hurry up, Dad!” Henry calls, stopped some fifty feet ahead of Ted.
“I’m comin’, bud,” he says, looking back once more to her house.
Rebecca Welton. He understands how she could’ve been fiery once.
Summary: With the charity gala standing in as date night, Ted finds himself rather grumpy when he realizes he can't spend every second of the night by Rebecca's side.
Gala night, or, as Ted likes to call it these days, date night with a whole lot of extra people he doesn’t really want to see, whom Rebecca wants to see even less, but they get to get dressed up and maybe have a dance or two.
They’ve been married just a little over six months now, or, as Ted likes to call it, the greatest six months to have ever been bestowed upon anyone in the history of humanity, recorded or not.
He has a lot of names for things that are a lot longer than just calling them what they are. Part of his charm, he claims.
Regardless of what people are calling the last six months, the truth is, he and Rebecca have gotten dressed up for a date night exactly zero times since their honeymoon in Paris. Which Ted says is a great tragedy because he loves how Rebecca looks at him when he’s in a nice suit almost as much as he likes looking at her in a beautiful dress. So, the gala is doubling as date night for one humble football coach and his fearless leader.
Ted walks into the master bathroom to find Rebecca sitting at her vanity putting her earrings in. She looks, to no one’s, but especially not his, surprise, absolutely stunning. Her dress is sleeveless, gold, and hugs her waist so perfectly that Ted is prepared to personally write a letter to the designer thanking them for what can only be described as a miracle draped in cloth. Although he thinks it’s tefetta.
“Don’t call me Diane Warren, ‘cause I think I just won an Oscar.” Ted grins as he comes up behind her, resting a hand on her bare shoulder as he leans down to peck her cheek. “Gosh, darlin’, you just look incredible.”
Rebecca smiles and turns her head to meet his lips in a kiss as she hands him her second earring. He gently brushes her hair away from her ear and puts the earring in for her before gently pressing his lips to the top of her head.
“Ready?” he asks, thumbs brushing each of her shoulders.
“Not in the slightest.” Rebecca smiles and grabs one of his hands, squeezing gently before she stands up, turning to face him. Ted’s hands automatically drop to her waist.
“You look very handsome, my love.” Rebecca leans in to give him another kiss before she smooths down the lapel of his white tux jacket and straightens his bowtie. “Told you the white looks nice with the black pants.”
“And I am mighty glad I let you push me a lil’ outta my comfort zone.” Ted smiles and pulls her a little closer, one hand sliding to the small of her back where he splays his fingers. “I am, however, feelin’ conflicted about this dress,” he says, letting his eyes wander down.
“Oh?” Rebecca asks with a little arch of her brow.
“Can’t decide if I’d rather keep you here all to myself or show you off to the whole world.” He grins and gives her another kiss, gentle and lingering.
“How about to just a bit of press and Richmond’s most generous donors,” Rebecca mutters before pressing her lips back to his.
“Oh, sweetheart, I’ve got just the place.”
He goes to turn, but Rebecca stops him, taking a moment to fix the little rumples in his hair he hadn’t noticed, or maybe didn’t exist at all, and generously donate a little more of her gloss to his lips.
Ted helps Rebecca into the back of the car, one hand in hers, the other lifting the bottom of her dress so it doesn’t catch on her black heels, before he slides in next to her. They sit as they always do, Ted’s arm around her, Rebecca’s hand on his thigh, gently brushing with her thumb.
They stay mostly quiet on the drive as Rebecca looks over her cue cards for her speech, reciting it quietly under her breath. Ted knows it as well as she does, occasionally whispering a word she forgets and is rewarded with a little squeeze of his thigh as she carries on.
The car slows to a stop in front of the venue, camera flashes already going as the teams have started to arrive and make their way down the short carpet. Neither Ted nor Rebecca makes an immediate move to get up; instead, Ted gently kisses Rebecca’s shoulder.
“Gonna be amazin’ darlin’,” he whispers, brushing his moustache against her bare skin. “Just like always. You know how much they love you.”
“How much?” Rebecca asks, tilting his head up with a delicate finger under his chin, and smiling when his eyes reach hers.
“Nowhere close to as much as I love you, but still a whole lot.”
“Thank you.” Rebecca gives him a quick kiss, gently stroking his cheek. “I love you.”
Ted decides it’s probably not polite for the owner and one of the head coaches of the club hosting the charity gala to sit outside the event in their car all evening, so he slowly opens the door.
He slides out, holding a hand out for Rebecca and helping her down out of the car, and straightening her dress out before they make their way to the photocall, something he enjoys doing much more now that he does it with his hand on Rebecca’s waist and hers on his chest.
“Now I’m expectin’ some good ones here,” Ted teases the crowd of photographers. “The boss here says she’s not a fan of my current lockscreen, so I’m on the lookout for replacements.”
“God forbid, I think he can find a better picture than one of us at Dave & Buster's,” Rebecca says, and there’s a little chuckle heard from behind the flashes.
“Y’all didn’t see how good she looked in that hoodie, I’m tellin’ you, it puts this dress to shame.”
Rebecca laughs and buries her face in his shoulder.
It had been over the summer. They’d flown to Kansas for Ted’s cousin’s wedding, and Ted and Rebecca decided to take Henry out to Dave & Buster's. It was originally gonna be Chuck E. Cheese, but then Henry watched Five Nights’ at Freddy’s on the flight over, so they had a change of plans.
Rebecca had decided the outfits she packed were a lot more suitable for wedding-based activities and less suitable for arcade/dining establishments, so Ted had happily offered one of his sweatshirts from his mom’s house.
He’d been a little beyond obsessed with the sight of her in jeans and a worn Wichita State Shockers hoodie with his name on the sleeve. Rebecca has asked him countless times now to find a better picture than the one Henry took of her holding a fountain drink cup the size of her head in one hand and a greasy slice of pizza in the other as she laughed at something Ted was saying with his arm around her.
Ted claims no such photo exists. She’d argued that they had a bunch of very lovely wedding photos to choose from, and Ted countered by saying seeing those photos in anything but their lovely photobook or the ornate frame in their bedroom is completely unacceptable.
“We’re going in now before you start telling them how good I look in my pyjamas,” Rebecca teases, surprising Ted with a quick kiss, and Ted is happy to see a few more flashes go off through his closed lids.
“I’m gonna need y’all to send those over to me ASAP,” Ted says, waving his fingers over every photographer behind the barrier. “Also, she looks great in pyjamas.”
“Okay, that’s enough,” Rebecca playfully rolls her eyes and gives Ted a light tap on the ass that the cameras do not pick up on, before lacing her fingers in his and tugging him towards the stairs.
“I mean, come on y’all, this?” Ted gestures to Rebecca with his free hand. “In nothin’ but flowy silk jammies? That’s heaven, I’m tellin’ you.”
“And you’ll all just have to take his word on that,” Rebecca chuckles, tugging him a little closer.
Ted looks back and gives one last It’s true nod before he reaches for the bottom of Rebecca’s dress to help her up the stairs and into the venue. They make it about four feet inside before someone approaches Rebecca.
Ted holds his arm out politely but firmly. “Nope. Event doesn’t officially start for another ten minutes, which means Mrs. Welton-Lasso here is very busy comin’ to sit with her husband before y’all steal her from me.”
The man glances over at Rebecca, who gives him an it’s out of my hands shrug of her shoulders, linking her arm in Ted’s and letting him guide her towards their table.
“You had that one ready to go,” Rebecca says with a chuckle.
“Yes, ma’am.” Ted smiles and pulls her chair out, waiting for her to be comfortably seated before pushing it in.
None of their other table-mates are here yet, or at least aren’t sitting at the table yet, but Ted has ensured a few appetizers are sitting here waiting for Rebecca, along with a gin and tonic in case it’s the only time she has time to get anything down all night.
“You’re sure you can’t just sit here with me all night? I’m much better company,” Ted teases, nudging the little tray of finger foods towards Rebecca.
“I know you’re much better company,” she chuckles. “For the children, remember?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Ted says, but he can’t do anything to hide his smile. “Have I told you I’m proud of you yet?”
“At least once a day,” Rebecca teases softly, leaning in to brush her nose against his before giving him a gentle kiss.
“That’s good. ‘Cause I am.” Ted smiles and then pulls Rebecca’s chair closer to his so he can drape an arm over her shoulders. “Okay. Date night speed-run. How was your week?”
“Busy,” Rebecca says. “Yours?”
“Busy,” Ted agrees. “Do you think we spent enough time together?”
“No,” Rebecca says, but she’s smiling.
“And is that just ‘cause we can never spend enough time together?” Ted grins.
“Yes,” Rebecca says, leaning in to kiss him.
“Glad we’re on the same page.” Ted kisses her again, lingering a little longer.
“Hello lovers.” Beard’s voice pulls them apart as he plops himself down in the chair next to Ted.
“Still makes us sound like a throuple when you say that, Beard,” Rebecca says with a little laugh.
“Are you not?” Heidi jokes as she takes a seat next to Beard.
“Nuh-uh,” Ted says. “Rebecca dun’t like sharin’.”
“That’s the only reason?” Rebecca rolls her eyes and gives Ted’s knee a swat. “You should’ve just married Beard.”
“It did come up our first year coachin’,” Ted replies, and both Heidi and Rebecca furrow their brows curiously at him.
“Taxes,” Beard offers.
“Okay, why the fuck are we talking about taxes?” Keeley asks as she and Roy appear at the table.
“We are talking about Ted and Beard almost getting married,” Heidi explains, and everyone nods in agreement with a little huff of laughter.
“I still can’t believe you two have never shagged,” Keeley says.
“Not Beard’s type,” Ted replies.
“Once again,” Rebecca chuckles, “that’s the only reason?”
Ted just laughs and gives Rebecca a peck on the cheek, and Keeley squeaks a little in excitement.
“Keeley, you were at, actually, no, you were in our wedding,” Rebecca laughs.
“And I’m still not over it,” Keeley replies.
“In her defence, sweetheart, I’m also still not over it,” Ted says, grinning as he gives Rebecca another peck.
Rebecca blushes slightly, a rare occurrence that always makes Ted smile wider.
“Ooooooh, someone’s blushing,” Beards mocks, and Rebecca shoots him a look that doesn’t deter him in the slightest.
“I think that’s my cue to get to hosting,” Rebecca says, and Ted frowns.
“One more minute,” he bargains.
“Nope.” Rebecca cups his chin gently and kisses him before she gets up from her seat. “Because you’ll say that again in a minute, and I have money to raise.”
“Too noble for me, Boss.” Ted smiles and reaches to give her hand a little squeeze as she goes to face the crowd. He watches her go, almost certain there’s a spotlight following her around the room.
“Gosh, dun’t she just look stunnin’,” Ted says, slowly turning back towards the rest of the table.
“You’re a lot more fun now that you don’t pretend you’re not staring at her,” Keeley chuckles.
“I never pretended not to stare at her.”
The whole table gives him a fat chance look.
“It was fucking impossible to have a conversation with you sometimes,” Roy claims.
“Always looking up at her office window, claiming you were ‘thinking’,” Heidi adds.
“I was thinkin’,” Ted says.
“Not about football,” Beard counters.
“Well, I never explicitly said I was thinkin’ about football.”
“I think it’s very sweet,” Keeley smiles.
“You never had to fucking work with him, babe,” Roy grunts. “I can still hear her yelling down to him sometimes. That woman’s voice can fucking carry.”
“It is nicer now that you don’t have to squeeze in all your time with her while we are at work,” Heidi says.
“Now that, I agree with,” Ted says, pointing a finger at Heidi, and the whole table gives him a simultaneous, adoring roll of their eyes.
There’s a tap on the mic, and everyone’s heads turn to Rebecca on stage. Now there’s definitely a spotlight on her, every golden curve shimmering. Ted grins and gives her two thumbs-up when he catches her eye.
“Welcome, everyone,” Rebecca starts. “Thank you all so much for coming to our sixteenth annual charity gala. It’s my absolute pleasure, as always, and I have just a few housekeeping things before the food comes out. First off, no need to plan any tabloid headlines, I will be going home with my gaffer tonight.”
A laugh rumbles through the venue, and Ted grins at Rebecca, who gives him a little fond smile. Ted’s thrilled they’ve reached the point that she’s happy to joke about something that had, at the time, been incredibly painful, but here they are. The headlines are far kinder now, and they pose for photos intentionally, and they smile when they see them the next morning.
He’d much preferred: RICHMOND’S FINEST Rebecca Welton spotted with new bling on latest outing with Ted Lasso, over: NEW CONTRACT? Welton Takes a Page From Mannion’s Book With Workplace Affair.
They’d even managed to tell all their friends and family before the press had gotten wind of their engagement.
Rebecca makes her way through the important bits of who to make cheques out to, along with a quick rundown on the evening, though most attendees are familiar with the auction later in the evening.
“The bar is open, please drink liberally, it makes you all more generous with your wallets,” Rebecca jokes before thanking everyone again for coming and heading off stage to a polite applause.
“Excuse me, folks,” Ted says, getting up from his chair.
“That’s a very conveniently timed bathroom break, Ted,” Keeley teases.
Ted gives her a playfully dismissive wave and doesn’t even try to defend himself as he heads towards the washrooms, which are conveniently situated just beyond the side of the stage Rebecca is stepping down from.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Ted says, helping her down the last step. “Killin’ it.”
“Thank you, Ted.” She smiles and flattens her dress.
She still gets a little flustered at these, though she’s much better than the first one Ted had attended, but it still upsets him a little that he can’t just magically calm her nerves. She tells him it helps just seeing him in the crowd, but he can still see the extra tension in her stance.
“Sorry, love, I should really start making the rounds,” she says, genuinely upset that she has to leave him.
“Hey, no need to apologize, just came to check in.” Ted reaches to squeeze her hand quickly. “You just let me know when you need some handsome, midwestern charm to raise a few more bucks.”
“I will,” she says, giving him a quick peck on the cheek as she slips by him and heads towards the nearest table of guests.
The switch in her voice is immediate. Kind, elegant, but missing that little bit of softness he’s grown used to hearing. Her movements are just a tad muted, less enthusiastic. That’s one of the favourite things he’d learned about her since they got together; she loves talking with her hands, but only really does at home. He loves that home means the same place for both of them now.
He stops by the bar on the way back to the table, precariously carrying five bottles of beer in his hands as he makes his way over.
“Oh shoot, I shoulda asked if y’all wanted anythin’,” Ted jokes before distributing a bottle out to everyone and taking a seat.
“To Richmond?” he asks, raising his bottle.
“To Richmond,” the other four say as their spouts clink together and they all take a sip.
“These fucking things are a lot more tolerable now that I don’t get auctioned off,” Roy says.
“I miss bidding on you, babe,” Keeley teases, nudging Roy’s shoulder.
“I always thought it’d be kinda fun,” Beard says far too seriously, drawing a simultaneously raised brow from everyone at the table. “I’m getting the vibe that I may be alone in that.”
“What exactly do you do with the folks?” Ted asks Roy.
“Usually, the women will flirt with you shamelessly for three hours. At worst, they touch your fucking feet under the table,” Roy replies. “And the men generally just give you a three-hour recap on your career that makes you wish you’d never fucking touched a football in your life.”
“Which is the better option?” Heidi asks.
“Oh, the women, no doubt. Eloise and I have spent many lovely evenings together,” Roy says, turning around to wave at an elderly woman across the room who gets a very disgruntled look for her husband.
Ted’s gaze wanders left to find Rebecca crouched beside a Patrick Dempsey-type’s chair. She never crouches for Ted. He likes looking up at her, or if needed, he’ll stand. She’s smiling, not a full smile, but polite enough that no one who doesn’t know her well would be able to tell it’s not genuine.
“Hey, Keels, who is that?” Ted asks, nodding towards the man.
Keeley turns to follow Ted’s gaze before looking back at Ted with raised eyebrows and a why are you wondering look on her face.
“Purely professional curiosity,” Ted smiles.
Keeley doesn’t even pretend to buy the excuse before she answers.
“Arthur… something. He’s a banker, I think, maybe a financial consultant,” Keeley explains.
Ted hums in acknowledgement, not really knowing what difference knowing the man’s name or profession makes. He does know Rebecca’s hand is being wasted holding his shoulder while he chuckles at a joke she just made. A joke that probably deserves a proper laugh.
“That’s his wife next to him, if you’re curious,” Keeley teases.
Ted nods, but doesn’t really register it.
“He’s very handsome,” Heidi adds with a chuckle.
Ted’s attention darts over to Heidi, who is trying to hide a smile at how easy it is to push Ted’s buttons.
“I’m tellin’ Alice you said that,” Ted says.
“Okay,’ Heidi replies, and the whole table chuckles.
“Gosh, can’t even ask what a man’s name is ‘round here anymore,” Ted grumbles, taking a sip of his beer as he leans back in his chair to watch Rebecca again. “Bet he dun’t even donate, just comes here for the food and good press.”
“Actually, he–” Keeley starts, but Ted holds a hand up to stop her.
“I’m enjoyin’ the picture in my head here, Keeley, don’t ruin it by tellin’ me he’s actually a great guy.”
“Saw him save a cat once,” Roy adds with a rare almost-smile.
“Okay,” Ted stands up, “I’m gonna go find people more fun to talk to.”
“No, Ted,” Keeley laughs, “we’ll stop. You are a much better man than Arthur something.”
Ted feigns a dramatic, annoyed sigh before retaking his seat, chuckling along with the rest of them.
Heidi starts to say something that Ted doesn’t hear, because Rebecca is adjusting the top of her dress as she stands up, and she’s waving at Arthur and his alleged wife with that little wave she does that’s mostly wiggling fingers, and her dress is flowing around her legs as she walks between tables, and she’s catching his eye and giving him a little smile before she stops at the next guest to entertain.
There’s an empty seat next to the woman Rebecca has stopped to talk to, and she sits down, and Ted’s foot nudges the empty seat next to him. Her seat. No respect for her own seating chart.
“Who’s that?” Ted asks when there’s a lull in the conversation.
“Coach, you know you are allowed to join her,” Heidi says.
“No, Rebecca says I can’t,” Ted grumbles again, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.
“Why?” Keeley asks, trying not to laugh at him again.
“‘Cause last year, when I hung out with her all night, she said I segued the conversation back to being about her too much and not enough about the cause,” Ted explains. “In my defence, I thought tellin’ everyone about how much work she puts into these events was helpful, but apparently these folk don’t like hearin’ that part.”
“No,” Keeley chuckles. “They just want to hear where their money is going. They don’t want to know someone put in more work. Might guilt them into putting on a fundraiser of their own.”
“I always thought these events would make a very good email,” Heidi jokes, and everyone nods in agreement.
“It is fun seein’ everyone all dressed up, though,” Ted says as he, to no one’s surprise, turns to scan the room for Rebecca.
“You can just say Rebecca, Coach,” Beard says.
“S’more polite if I say everyone,” Ted smiles, slowly bringing his attention back to the table.
Ted’s mind wanders only slightly more frequently than his eyes do to Rebecca. He tries to be polite, he really does. He doesn’t even bring up Rebecca at every single opportunity that presents the faintest of ties to her, but he can’t help but search for her whenever there’s a little pause. He can’t help but be a little upset, though he doesn’t show it, when everyone laughs at one of his jokes, and her laugh isn’t in the mix.
It’s actually much harder to be in the same room as her without standing next to her than it is to be in different places altogether. He used to be more than happy to stand across a room from her and admire from a distance, but once he learned what it feels like to stand next to her, to have his arm around her, to have her hand on him… It’s become a lot harder to stand across rooms.
He knows it’s completely unfair and ridiculous to be a little grumpy about it all, but his wife is over there in a gorgeous dress, and she’s smiling and laughing and having a good time, which he’s happy about, and he’s not allowed to go talk to her, which he understands but is not happy about, until she has a minute to stop by the table, which she most likely won’t.
He’s doing reasonably fine with it all until he hears her laugh. Her real laugh, not her polite that’s so funny open your wallets laugh. He turns, expecting to see her talking to someone he recognizes, but he doesn’t. There’s a man, around Ted’s age, tall, with dark features and nicely groomed hair. Rebecca’s hand is on his forearm, and his on her shoulder.
Now Ted knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that there’s exactly zero to be concerned about, and it actually normally wouldn’t upset him at all, but Ted thinks that if he’s not allowed to be by her side, making her laugh right now, neither should that man.
Ted’s fingers drum on his thighs as he looks over at them.
“Who’s that?” Ted asks, eyes narrowing in on the target.
Keeley turns around. “Oh, that’s Patrick.”
“Do we like Patrick?”
“He seems nice,” Keeley shrugs. “One of Rebecca’s old uni friends.”
“The answer Coach was looking for there was ‘no, he’s evil, go save her from him right now’, just as an FYI, Keeley,” Beard jokes.
“No, no,” Ted waves him off unconvincingly. “Glad she’s havin’ a good time. She should get some time to laugh. Can’t all just be business talk.”
“And you are not at all upset that you are not the one making her laugh?” Heidi pokes the bear.
“No… ‘course not,” Ted says. His eyes still haven’t left Rebecca and whatever the dude’s name is, although they’re not touching anymore. “Just glad she’s laughing. Dun’t matter that I have plenty of material I’ve never used on her and would definitely get a bigger laugh, dunno why you’d say that.”
“I don’t think anyone said that specifically,” Keeley says through a laugh.
“You were all thinkin’ it,” Ted says, vaguely pointing at them.
“Someone definitely was,” Roy grunts.
“Think she looks hungry? Or thirsty? Or annoyed? Like she needs savin’ from that conversation?” Ted asks no one in particular.
“Oh, all of the above,” Keeley teases.
“I mean, it’s been like an hour and a half, and all she had was two pieces of bruschetta and half her drink,” Ted spews out. “Almost auction time, can’t do that on a mostly empty stomach.”
“I think that’s how she normally does it, actually,” Roy says.
“Dun’t mean she should. I won’t even say anythin’, I’ll just bring her a bite or a drink or somethin’.”
“You’re hopeless,” Keeley chuckles.
Ted turns back to everyone, a little puzzled. He is a little hopeless when it comes to her, but he just doesn’t really know why it came up right now.
“You’re trying to rationalize what the nicest reason you could go over to see Rebecca is,” Beard explains.
“Without making it seem like you are there because you want to make her laugh,” Heidi adds.
“And without making it seem like you’re trying to keep her from her work,” Keeley pipes in.
“And without showing that you’re being a fucking grump sitting here without her,” Roy finishes off.
“Shoot,” Ted chuckles. “Y’all rehearse that? ‘Cause y’all killed that well done, yeah, read me like a book.”
“She’ll come over if she needs something, Ted,” Keeley says, a little softer now.
“Yeah… yeah, I know,” Ted nods, glancing back at Rebecca, who catches him with a little smile.
She didn’t use to, but now that she knows Ted will worry if she doesn’t, she has actually learned to take a moment for herself when she needs it. Ted still worries she doesn’t take those moments often enough, though maybe he just wishes she took more, for his own sake.
About five minutes before the auction is scheduled to start, he grabs a little plate of food and her drink and wanders over to the stairs to the stage to wait for her. So, maybe he sometimes sets the moments aside for her.
His face lights up when she appears.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he smiles. “Everything goin’ alright?”
“Yes,” she smiles right back and gives him a peck on the cheek. “Excellent, I think.”
Ted holds the drink and plate out towards her.
“Thought you could use a lil’ somethin’ before you go up.”
“You’re good at coming up with excuses to come see me,” Rebecca teases softly as she grabs a bruschetta from the plate. “Thank you.”
“Yeah,” Ted chuckles. “I was brainstormin’ pretty heavily when I saw you laughin’ with Mr. tall, dark, and handsome.”
“Patrick?” Rebecca asks with a little grin.
“Sure,” Ted shrugs. “Just kept thinkin’ that he probably didn’t appreciate hearin’ your laugh nearly as much as he should.”
“Yes, well, I have a lovely husband who appreciates it plenty,” Rebecca smiles softly, cupping his cheek for a moment.
“And he also appreciates you doin’ all this lovely work,” Ted says, pressing his lips to her fingertips. “Even if he has to be all grumpy alone at a table with his four friends, whom he loves dearly and who are probably all gettin’ annoyed at him lookin’ around for you all night.”
“I’m sorry I haven’t made it by, love,” Rebecca says.
“S’okay, darlin’, you still look beautiful when you’re not sittin’ next to me.”
“I do look better next to you, though,” Rebecca smiles, and Ted lightens up. “We’ll have a dance later?”
“Yes, please,” Ted grins and leans in to kiss her, soft and chaste.
Rebecca thanks him for the snack and squeezes his hand before she heads up on stage, and Ted makes his way back to his seat, his eyes glued on her as he does.
“Has your ‘I miss Rebecca’ timer been reset?” Keeley teases as he sits.
“And quickly replaced with my ‘I get to dance with Rebecca’ countdown.”
The countdown, to Ted’s great disappointment, lasts far longer than he’d hoped. It lasts the length of the auction, the short interlude between that and the introduction of musical guest Sam Ryder, and then it keeps ticking.
Ted gets several offers from Heidi and Beard, and every single member of his team to come dance, but he politely declines them all because of his self-imposed rule that if Rebecca doesn’t have the time to dance yet, he won’t either. In solidarity, even though she doesn’t know he’s doing it.
He watches her shake hands with and talk to what Ted guesses to be somewhere between one and two thousand people, but is probably somewhere in the twenty to thirty range, and smiles at her exactly fifteen times every time she catches his eye and mouths an apology at him.
She tries to make a break for him three times, and is intercepted once by Patrick, whom Ted has decided he doesn’t care for, once by Eloise, who is surprisingly nimble for an old woman, and once by Keeley. Traitor.
It’s about an hour and a half later, and Ted is absolutely killing the mopey puppy look. The rest of his table has gotten up either to talk to more lively people or are on the dance floor. Ted’s arms are crossed on the table, his chin resting on top as he mindlessly toys with the bottom of his empty beer bottle.
He’s half-conceded to the idea that he won’t be getting that dance when Rebecca finally makes her way over, her hand on his back as she sits next to him.
“Aren’t you a sight,” Rebecca chuckles as Ted turns his head, not quite pouting anymore. “You didn’t have to wait for me.”
“Sure, I did,” Ted says. He doesn’t sit up yet, her hand rubbing gently between his shoulders feels too good right now, and maybe he secretly loves the extra soft look Rebecca gives him when he’s a little pouty.
“I would’ve stolen you without a second thought from whoever you were dancing with,” Rebecca teases, giving his back a little shake that makes Ted’s smile peek through. The smile he’s been being very dramatic about trying to hide since she sat down.
“Didn’t want to dance when you were still workin’,” Ted admits.
“Oh?” Rebecca chuckles. “So you’re just being all grumpy over here on your own for my sake?”
“Yeah,” Ted says slyly.
“You know, this act wouldn’t work nearly as well without those eyes of yours,” Rebecca whispers as she leans down to kiss his temple.
“Usin’ all my assets,” Ted smiles, tilting his head to catch her lips in a proper little kiss.
“Are you going to come dance with me now?” Rebecca asks, combing her fingers through his hair.
“Sure, you don’t wanna go dance with Patrick?” Ted teases.
“Oh, you’ve been waiting to use that one, haven’t you?” Rebecca laughs, already tugging Ted to his feet.
“Or Arthur or Eloise? I’m sure her husband wouldn’t mind,” Ted continues, happily being dragged along.
“I would mind, and I think my husband would mind very much,” Rebecca replies, turning to face him, both his hands in hers now as she keeps stepping back towards the dancefloor.
Ted grins and steps a little closer to her, entranced by dancing lights around her, the sea of people that seem to part for her without realizing, and all the other things that blur completely when she’s smiling at him like this.
“Oh, thank god!” Keeley says when she sees Ted and Rebecca. “I was about five minutes away from going to tell him it’s bad press to look so sad.”
“Sorry, Keels, I’ll make sure to tell everyone I had a great time and it was a huge success,” Ted says as Rebecca laughs, and the current song winds down.
“Luckily, you being painfully in love with Rebecca is good press,” Keeley laughs. “Setting a very good precedent.”
“Oh, well, that’s what I’m in it for,” Ted grins, sliding a hand around Rebecca’s waist and pulling her a little closer as she playfully rolls her eyes.
He is upset that there’s even a precedent to be set in the loving Rebecca properly department, but he is very happy to be the one setting it.
Ted hears the first line of Whirlwind being sung and smiles at Rebecca, who gives him the gentlest of stares.
“If you’ll excuse us, Keeley, I owe my very patient husband a dance,” Rebecca says, and Keeley looks almost more excited than they do about it.
They shuffle a little deeper into the dancefloor, where they can disappear into their own world. Ted’s hands settle on Rebecca’s waist as her arms drape over his shoulders, slowly setting the pace of their steps that Ted is happy to follow.
“I am sorry I didn’t make it over more often… or earlier,” Rebecca admits quietly.
Ted shakes his head. “Don’t be. I was maybe bein’ a tad dramatic. Just can’t stand not bein’ near you, ‘specially when you look so beautiful.”
“And you know all I wanted to do was sit next to you all night?”
“Yeah,” Ted smiles softly. “I know.”
He wraps his arms around her and pulls her in until their chins are resting on each other's shoulders, and dancing becomes a strong word to describe what they’re doing.
“No more tryin’ to fit date nights in with anythin’ else,” Ted whispers.
“No,” Rebecca replies. “And no more six months between date nights.”
“Definitely not,” Ted chuckles. “And maybe next year we find a happy medium between me scarin’ off donors and you stayin’ so far away from me?”
“Yes, please,” Rebecca mutters against the side of his neck before pressing her lips to it.
They slowly sway along to the music, breathing each other in, Ted’s thumb brushing gently on her back as his lips find the top of her shoulder as the song fades out.
They dance along to another slow song before the music switches back to something a little too much to handle for being after midnight.
“You ready to go home, my love?” Rebecca asks.
“If that’s where you’re goin’.”
“I’ve done enough for the children tonight, I think.” She kisses Ted’s cheek before lacing her fingers in his and guides him off the dancefloor.
Ted pulls out his phone to let her driver know they’re coming, but she quickly gestures for him to put it away.
“I’ve made other arrangements,” she smiles, and Ted raises his eyebrows but doesn’t comment.
She doesn’t lead him out the front, instead taking him out to the back exit into the cool night air. Ted grins when he sees the rickshaw.
“Is this finally happenin’?”
“Yes. It finally is.” Rebecca grins and squeezes his hand. “Do you want to hop on this thing? Get the hell out of Dodge?”
“That’s my line,” Ted jokes, pulling her in for a quick kiss. “But yes, I really do.”
Ted helps Rebecca into the back, and he settles in next to her. Her arm wraps around him, pulling his head into her shoulder so she can press her lips into the top of it as her fingers card through the hair at the back, fingernails every so slightly scratching his scalp as they start down the street, shaking a little on the asphalt.
“You make me feel real silly for bein’ so mopey when I get this after,” Ted whispers happily.
“I like when you get a little mopey,” Rebecca says. “I love knowing you miss me even when I’m right there.”
“Just love you so much,” Ted mutters. “Feels like it’s all gonna explode outta me if you’re not there to give it to.”
“It’s hard work talking to all those people, knowing I’m missing out on god knows how many puns.”
“I’ll catch you up on all of ‘em when we get home,” Ted chuckles and tilts his head up to look at Rebecca properly.
The little multicoloured fairy lights of the rickshaw roof blur into beautiful bokeh around her, and the gold of her dress casts a soft, warm glow on the underside of her jaw. Ted doesn’t even mean to when he closes his eyes, and his lips part instinctively.
Rebecca cups his chin and tilts his head back just a little more, muttering, “I love you,” against his lips before she presses hers to them.
Ted lets out a low, satisfied hum against her, pressing up just a little more firmly into the kiss. This is really all he wanted all night, and he doesn’t even remember being grumpy.
He remembers seeing her in the gorgeous dress, glowing wherever she stood, having her picture taken with him. He remembers seeing her smile at him and hearing her laugh. He remembers seeing her up on stage, hearing people clap for her, laugh at her jokes. He remembers dancing with her, his hands on her back, feeling her breathe against him. And he remembers this, kissing her in the back of a silly rickshaw bike.
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