Work Text:
Ted knows that he's out of shape. He's not like horribly unfit or anything, but he's definitely a little soft around the middle. So when Bill asks him to join him at the gym one day Ted doesn't have to think too hard about his answer. He's nodding with not just his head but his whole body, hair flopping in front of his eyes, and he can see Bill's wide smile through the spaces between his bangs.
Ted wishes he thought more about the offer before agreeing.
Working out with Bill itself isn't bad; He's going really slowly and helping Ted figure out all of the gym's equipment. In fact, Ted's having fun during most of it, at least he's having fun until he takes a break and watches Bill make his way towards the weight section.
Ted hasn't done any of the arm related exercises yet, just core and leg stuff, so he doesn't recognize the bench Bill lays down on. There's a bar above his head with two large weights on either side. Bill picks it up, bringing it down to his chest before lifting it fully over him. Ted can't help but stare, transfixed.
He can see the fabric of Bill's shirt move with each rep, exposing part of his lean stomach. He's grunting slightly, clearly focused on what he's doing, and the sound of it keeps replaying loudly in Ted's head. There's beads of sweat forming on his forehead, giving his skin the barest hint of sheen. Ted's eyes follow each one as it slides down the curve of Bill's cheekbone. And his arms, oh god, his arms. When his gaze finally drifts over to the muscles in Bill's arms Ted has to actively force his mouth to stay closed. He tries not to imagine what those arms would feel like against him, hands planted firmly on his hips, pushing him back against a wall or door. There's suddenly a lump in the center of Ted's throat and it takes him a couple of tries to choke it down.
Ted's so caught up in trying to remember how to swallow that he doesn't notice Bill return the weight to its original spot and sit up. He does notice Bill wipe some of the sweat off of his forehead with the back of his hand though, and Ted's breath hitches when he catches sight of Bill's biceps again.
"You ready to try again, dude?"
Ted's eyes snap upwards to meet Bill's, cheeks warm and rosey. "Actually, I was thinking maybe we could go home. This was a most boadacious workout session but I'm feeling a little tired."
"That's totally cool, dude. We can head home." Bill grabs his water bottle from where it's leaning against the legs of the bench and stands up. Ted does the same and they exit the gym together, finding their way back to their shared van. Bill's driving, and Ted has to keep reminding himself not to stare at his arms too often. He doesn't want to creep Bill out, but managing to pull his gaze away each time is easier said than done. He opts instead to shuffle through the collection of tapes they store in the glovebox, settling on an old mixtape Bill made of their favorite songs from the summer of '91, inserting it into the player and turning the volume up way louder than necessary.
If Bill notices that Ted's acting weird he doesn't say anything. They make it the whole way home in relative silence, tapping their fingers and shaking their heads in tune with the rhythm of the music. Ted has a much harder time keeping his eyes to himself once they get home. It seems like everywhere he looks he's met with a face full of Bill, and Bill's arms, and Bill's stomach, and the sight of all of him gives Ted the most unsavory thoughts. They follow him throughout the day, and sometimes, when he's feeling especially forgiving of himself, he lets himself indulge in those thoughts in the dark of the night, hidden by the thickness of his blankets and the haze of his tiredness.
Today is one of those forgiving days.
He hasn't actually seen Bill much this morning, as he's away at work until noon, leaving Ted alone at home. Ted decides to spend the time working on "the song", pulling out his guitar and one of the several beat-up old notebooks he and Bill use to brainstorm lyrics. He doesn't have any particular lines in mind, instead letting his hand take over in scribbling down whatever words and phrases came to mind, humming along to the slew of ideas pouring out of the pen. It isn't until he takes a step back and reads through what he had written that Ted feels his stomach sink and his heart grow heavy.
"Oh. This is a most heinous predicament I'm in."
Staring Ted in the face is an entire page full of Bill. Lyrics dedicated to the softness of his hair and the crooked curve of his smile. Lines and lines and lines about how he smelled, dressed, and played. And, worst of all, a couple choice phrases about the definition in his arms, their hard lines and strong angles. Ted feels nauseous.
He tears the page out of the notebook and crumples it up into the smallest ball possible, shamefully tossing it into the garbage can across the room. He can feel the heat in his cheeks as he shoves his face in his hands, groaning to himself, trying to decipher the reason behind all of this. There has to be some kind of explanation as to why his brain is always so caught up on Bill, and it doesn't look like that explanation is as simple as "he's my best friend".
Ah shit.
Ted groans again, even louder this time, and flops backwards on the bed, burying his face in the pillow. He has feelings for Bill, the gay kind, and that's what's making his stupid heart race a million miles a minute and his stupid mouth go dry.
Ted wonders if he's always felt this way about Bill, if maybe that's why he acted the way he did when they were younger, and groans yet again when he finally realizes that yeah, this is definitely not a new thing.
Every time he's had to duck his head down to conceal a wicked blush, and every time he's let a hug or gentle touch linger just a little too long. The way he spent all of senior year taking photos of Bill and only Bill for his photography class, his teacher shooting quirked eyebrows and knowing smirks his way whenever he submitted an assignment. The countless mixtapes he's made for Bill, and the countless mixtapes he wants to make for Bill. All of that, and probably so much more, should've clued Ted in that maybe he wasn't as straight as he thought.
Ted rolls over on his stomach, laying there in silence, and lets himself work through every warm memory, reviewing the events in an entirely different light.
Bill gets home about an hour later, but Ted doesn't notice him when he comes in. There's music playing loudly and Ted's nestled in the corner of their living room, lazily strumming along to Why Can't This Be Love. Bill has to tap him on the shoulder in order for Ted to realize he's home.
"Hey, dude!"
"Hey, Ted." Bill's smiling, all soft eyes and bright teeth, and Ted can't help but smile back.
"How was work?"
Bill puts his wallet and his keys on the kitchen counter before taking a seat on the couch next to Ted, legs bumping together in the process.
"Awful, dude! We had to deal with the meanest customers today. I'm glad it's over."
Ted nods and goes to put his guitar down on the floor next to them, but Bill grabs one of his wrists, stopping Ted in his tracks. He's smiling again.
"You can still play if you want. The sound of you playing is always most excellent, and it might help me feel better after that heinous day of work."
Ted readjusts himself and his guitar and goes back to chasing the sound of Van Halen. He's gotten pretty good over the course of a year and a half, and he can almost match the song. Bill's watching him with wide eyes and a lopsided grin, toes tapping along to the beat.
Ted lets his gaze shift away from the strings and settle on his friend, eyes tracing down his neck and over his shoulders, eventually resting on the curve of his arms. Ted fucks up the next note.
He winces when he hears it, the sharp and off-key sound, and Bill snorts out a laugh. Ted finds himself laughing too, and suddenly they're both laughing, together, leaning into each other as they do.
The right side of Ted's body is pressed flush against Bill, and their heads are tilted towards one another. The areas where their skin meets feels alive, charged by something, and it makes Ted a little dizzy.
"That was some most excellent playing, Ted."
"Thank you, Bill."
Ted doesn't pick up his guitar again, instead leaving it resting on his legs and focusing on the way he and Bill fit together.
"Hey, Ted."
"Yeah, Bill."
"I've been thinking about something." He's fidgeting in his seat, picking at his hangnails and bouncing his thigh slightly. Ted hums in acknowledgement.
"You know how we've been single for a while. Ever since the princesses broke up with us, dude." Ted hums again.
"And you know how we haven't been looking for new girlfriends, right?" There's a hint of nervousness in his voice, just present enough for Ted to pick up on it.
"What if I don't want to look for a new girlfriend, dude?"
"Like you want to focus on the band instead?"
Bill shakes his head, hands still fidgeting in his lap.
"No, dude, like I think I found somebody for me."
"You got a secret girlfriend?" Ted moves backwards on the couch, intent on creating some distance between them. He's definitely a bit hurt that Bill would hide something as important as a new girlfriend from him, but he tries not to show it too much.
"What? Oh, Ted, no!"
"What do you mean then, dude?"
Bill reaches a hand out towards Ted, knuckles brushing Ted's thigh. Ted takes it in his own, eyes wide and lips parted as their fingers intertwine.
"I think I want a secret boyfriend, dude." That makes Ted look away from their interlocked hands and up at Bill's face. His cheeks are painted pink and there's the beginning of a smile present in his eyes. Ted's never been very good at reading body language and verbal cues, but he thinks that he can take the hint on this own.
"Hey, Bill."
"Yeah, Ted."
"Can I kiss you, dude?"
"Thought you'd never ask."
Bill leans in and Ted leans in and they meet somewhere in the middle, both of their free hands coming up to cup each other's jaws. Their grins break the kiss, and they're left staring at one another from their respective spots on the sofa.
"Woah," they say in unison, air guitaring once before leaning right back in.