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The first time Ted runs into Trent, newly independent, at the Crown & Anchor engaged in what seems to be quite a spirited discussion with Paul and his friends, Ted chalks it up to Trent being bored and goes over to say hello without a second thought. However, it’s now the fourth time in as many weeks and Ted is starting to think this is becoming a habit.
“Am I missin’ something, Mae?” Ted asks as he watches Trent on the farside of the bar speaking with a new round of Richmond fans; Paul, Baz and Jeremy hovering at his shoulder and loudly adding their two cents whenever they deem it necessary.
Mae deposits his new pint in front of him and doesn’t pretend to play coy as she leans against the bar to crane her neck for a better view of Trent. She winks at the former journalist, much to Ted’s amusement and confusion, and then turns to examine Ted more thoroughly.
“I should think you are,” she finally tells him before snatching his empty pint glass and turning away.
See, the thing is, Ted’s seen Trent in The Crown & Anchor multiple times since the end of the season but none of those times did Trent approach Ted first. Ted always went to him and offered to buy a drink, never the other way around. He knows it might be a little high school popularity contest but is it too much to ask for a friend, and boy would he like it if he and Trent could be more than friends, to come up and ask him if he’d like to have a drink together? Maybe that’s selfish of him. Perhaps he should talk to Doc and see what she thinks.
Why do you want him to approach you first, Ted?
He doesn’t have to call Doc to know that’s one of the first questions she’d ask and he doesn’t have to talk to her to admit to himself that he already knows the answer.
He sips his beer and tries not to be too obvious while he watches Trent mingle in a group of rowdy football fans like he’s been doing it all his life. He finds it fascinating, seeing Trent adapt his body language and tone of voice to every person he interacts with, and wonders how long Trent’s loved football and if any part of him is sore about putting sports reporting for a newspaper behind him. Ted knows he could ask. Could walk over to Trent and invite him to sit down and have a pint and talk about Richmond since Trent’s now writing a book about the history of the club, after all. But it’s not what Ted wants. He doesn’t want to talk about football or Richmond or journalism or coaching. He wants to know Trent Crimm, the man, and he wants to talk to him outside of the pub that's become Ted’s local.
However, it’s the why behind those wants that keep Ted from going over to Trent this time. It’s not that he’s scared of how Trent will react to his desires, mostly because even in his daydreams he’s never let himself get that far, but that he’s terrified of his own inability to maintain a relationship. And there he goes, Ted chides himself, jumping the gun once again. Michelle would be disappointed in him for keeping everything bottled up and Ted tries not to let that thought hurt as much as it does.
He takes another sip of his pint and forces himself to look away from where Trent is chuckling at something Jeremy said while Paul’s gaze flicks over to Ted. He doesn’t want Paul to get the idea that Ted’s feeling left out and make a spectacle when he inevitably invites Ted to join the spirited discussion. To avoid a scenario he knows is getting more likely by the second if the concerned looks Paul’s throwing him are anything to go by, Ted digs his phone out of his pocket and tries to distract himself by reading news articles about anything but football.
About forty minutes later, Ted’s silently cheering on Britney Spears as he scrolls through an interview with her on his phone when he feels a presence behind him. Before he can turn to look, and possibly ask the fella hovering to respect his personal space, a smooth, amused voice asks, “Entertainment Weekly? I suppose we all have our vices, don’t we?”
Ted snorts and sets his phone down on the bar as Trent slides into the stool next to him. He salutes Trent with his pint. “Nice to see ya. What happened to your fan club?”
Trent’s brows draw together in a confused frown and he cocks his head to the side like he’s trying to understand what makes Ted tick.
Ted tries not to squirm under the scrutiny and quickly adds, “It just seemed like ya’ll were having a good time, y’know? Seemed real glad to be talkin’ to ya. Must get easier for folks now that you’re not–” he searches for the correct word as Trent’s lips twitch in what might be amusement or annoyance.
“Gainfully employed,” Trent supplies dryly when Ted’s floundering drags out to an almost awkward silence.
“Well now, I didn’t wanna put it that way,” Ted answers, feeling a little embarrassed. He knows Trent left The Independent of his own accord but Ted still feels somewhat responsible for Trent’s predicament.
“Ted, I’m writing a book about Richmond. They’re sources, not friends, it’s part of the writing process,” Trent tells him seriously as he brushes a thick chunk of long silver-black hair behind his right ear.
“Yeah, yeah right. I get that,” Ted says quietly before taking a long sip of his third pint, nearly draining the glass. He thinks back to the numerous people he works with at the clubhouse and can shoot the breeze with in the corridor but who he would never invite over for dinner, to the players he loves as though they were his kids or younger brothers but who he is responsible for and so can never truly call friends, and then to the more intimate circle he’s built around himself and poured his trust into. He tries not to flinch as he excludes Nate from that circle.
“Yes, I’m sure you do,” Trent agrees, dark eyes deep with understanding as he gazes at Ted. He nods to the almost-empty pint glass Ted’s gripping with white knuckles. “Are you going to finish that?”
“Why?” Ted asks with some of his usual good humour returning and he relaxes his grip as he lifts the glass and offers it to Trent. “Do you want to finish it for me?”
Trent huffs a small laugh and shakes his head. “No, that’s not what I was asking.”
Ted nurses his pint as he tries to puzzle out Trent’s words. He’s never been very good at reading between the lines but he thinks he might have an inkling at what Trent is getting at and wonders if he should take a chance. He takes another sip of his beer, draining the glass this time, instead of speaking the words that have lodged in his throat.
“If you’re nearly done,” Trent begins and Ted thinks he detects a hint of uncertainty in Trent’s usually cool persona, “I was wondering if I might walk you home.”
Ted places the glass on the counter and rotates his body so he’s able to fully take in Trent’s expression and body language. Seeing the nervousness Trent’s so obviously trying to hide helps Ted relax. It’s a knee jerk reaction then, rather than any actual concern, that makes him ask, “As a source for your book?”
Trent smiles openly at the question and shakes his head. “No.”
“Then I accept,” Ted replies, ignoring the fluttering in his stomach as he notices the warmth in Trent’s eyes. “Just let me pay and I’ll be ready to go.”
Trent nods and waves Mae over with an ease that Ted envies.
“Together or separate, darling?” Mae asks Trent and Ted feels himself flush when she aims a knowing smirk in his direction.
“Separate tonight, thank you, Mae,” Trent tells her firmly but with a fond expression and Mae wanders off to run their tabs while cackling to herself. Once she’s at the register, Trent turns to Ted with mild concern and murmurs, “I hope that wasn’t presumptuous of me.”
“What? Making me pay for my own drinks when I’ve been out drinking alone?” Ted jokes as he pulls his wallet from his pocket. “I think I’ll let that one slide.”
Trent snorts and opens his mouth to say something but it is at that moment Mae returns and Trent shuts his mouth. Ted gives him a curious look but Trent only shakes his head and motions for them to leave the pub.
“Have a nice night, boys!” Ted hears Mae’s shout just as the door shuts firmly behind them so he doesn’t have the chance to reply but he’s pretty sure she won’t fault him for his poor manners this time.
They come to a stop a few metres outside of the pub and Ted’s about to ask if Trent’s having second thoughts when he catches the rueful look on Trent’s face.
“I’m afraid I made the offer to walk you home without knowing where you live,” Trent admits with a small shrug before sticking his hands in his pockets, clearly nervous while waiting for Ted’s response.
Ted chuckles and feels something in his lower belly unclench as understands that Trent is just as anxious as he is, only perhaps slightly better at hiding it due to his Britishness. He can do this, Ted realises, and he’s pretty sure he knows what this is.
“I’ll show you the way,” Ted offers and then, knowing he’s taking a risk but feeling that it might be worth it, adds, “so that you know where it is for next time.”
“I’d like that,” Trent answers, his voice slightly deeper than normal as he offers Ted a rare, warm smile that makes his eyes crinkle up in the corners.
Ted smiles back and then jerks his head in the direction of his flat. “C’mon, then. It’s pretty close and if you’re very lucky, I might even invite you up for a cup of coffee.”
Trent chuckles as they start in the direction Ted indicated, walking side-by-side. “I’ll come up if you ask me but I can’t stay long.”
Ted’s eyes flick to the left to try and gauge Trent’s meaning. Unable to read the expression on the other man’s face, Ted frowns and focuses on the cobblestone street in front of them. “Right. Of course. Um, Trent, if I’m mis–”
“Let’s have this conversation inside,” Trent interrupts firmly and Ted blanches. Seeming to realise his words have caused Ted additional anxiety, he touches Ted’s shoulder gently and quickly adds, “You’ve not misunderstood anything. I’d simply prefer your entire street wasn’t privy to this conversation.”
“I suppose enough of my secrets have been leaked to the press,” Ted agrees and nearly kicks himself when he sees the unspoken concern in Trent’s eyes. “Not that I hold you responsible or anything.”
“Right,” Trent says doubtfully but he doesn’t push and Ted is grateful. He doesn’t think he could handle talking about Nate and Trent’s article and the can of worms that is Rupert Mannion right now.
“It’s this one,” Ted says quietly, motioning towards the building he’s lived in for over two years and still finds exceptionally cute.
It doesn’t take him long to unlock the door and lead Trent up to his flat. While he does this in silence, he tries not to take it as a sign that Trent is humouring him. That his offer to walk Ted home was simply that, an offer to walk Ted home and ensure his safety, and now that Ted’s made it awkward, Trent is going to have to let him down gently before things get started.
“Well, this is it,” Ted announces once he and Trent are within the four walls of his flat. He chuckles nervously. “Home sweet home.”
Trent looks around, sharp eyes cataloguing everything from the dirty dishes in the sink to the proudly displayed photo of Henry on the mantle, the only photo Ted now has up in the whole flat.
“Thank you for having me,” Trent finally replies and just when Ted’s thinking he’s made a huge mistake, Trent smiles warmly and asks, “Do you mind if I have a seat?”
“Oh, of course, how silly of me. Mama’d be ashamed of my manners.” Ted feels his face flush as he bustles into action and makes his way towards the kitchen. “Please have a seat. Can I get ya anything? I have tea and coffee and–”
“Ted,” Trent says firmly, stepping into Ted’s personal space before he can run off and start boiling water, “anything’s fine. I honestly didn’t walk you home so that you’d make me a cup of tea.”
“I, uh, I wasn’t sure,” Ted replies, eyes a little wide as Trent smiles at him but doesn’t move away, “but then you said you can’t stay so maybe you’d better explain it to me? I’m gettin’ some mixed signals.”
“My apologies,” Trent offers but his expression is patient and open rather than contrite. “I didn’t mean to confuse you.” He reaches out and gently takes Ted’s right hand in his left and Ted swears he sees fireworks when their palms touch. “I’m quite interested in you, actually.”
Ted clears his throat and tries to make his mouth work but all that comes out is, “Unf” and suddenly Trent starts laughing. Ted thinks he quite likes Trent’s happy laugh and squeezes his hand once before just holding it in his own, refusing to let go.
“Let’s sit down and talk about this,” Trent suggests, still holding Ted’s hand as he settles them on Ted’s sofa. “I’m not trying to lead you on, I really do need to get going soon. My dad’s with Deliah and he can’t do late nights much these days.”
Understanding dawns on Ted and he lets out a sigh of relief. “Right, yeah, I remember those days with Henry. It’s good you’re getting back before ten, then, I assume?”
“What happens when one assumes, Coach Lasso?” Trent teases and Ted grins, thinking back to that slightly mortifying moment in the pressroom and feeling grateful to Trent for helping him relax now. “But in all seriousness, I do need to leave soon.”
“I get it,” Ted assures him and looks down at their joined hands again. He tries not to grip Trent’s too tightly when he asks, “Um, but before you leave, could we maybe clear the air?”
“Of course,” Trent answers amiably, pulling Ted’s hand over to rest on his thigh and then settling his own hand on top. “I’m interested in you, Ted. I’d like to take you out, get to know you more personally and then after, if we’re both agreeable, maybe invite you back to mine. And, if we’re very lucky, perhaps we’ll both want to repeat the experience many times over.” His smile becomes almost challenging when he asks, “Is that clear enough for you, Ted?”
“Crystal,” Ted croaks out, staring at where his hand rests on Trent’s denim covered thigh and wondering what he has to do so that the picture Trent just painted for him comes to be his reality. He decides to squeeze Trent’s thigh and feels Trent’s hand tighten on top of his own.
“There’s no pressure on my end,” Trent informs him kindly, as though he didn’t just admit to Ted that he has thoughts about them in a long-term relationship together, and starts to disentangle their fingers.
“Aw, cripes, Trent, you can’t just confess something like that to a man and expect him not to need a sec to respond,” Ted protests, flipping his hand over and gripping Trent’s tightly. He’s nervous about what he’s going to say but knows he needs to admit the truth or this opportunity is truly going to pass him by. He doesn’t think Trent’s the kind of guy to wear his heart on his sleeve, let alone admit his feelings, more than once if he gets rejected. “Of course I wanna get to know you. I’ve been trying to figure out how to ask you to get dinner with me each time I see you at the Crown & Anchor.”
Trent chuckles and laces their fingers together before giving Ted’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “I may have been trying to give you the opportunity to ‘make the first move’, as it were.”
“Mae knew, didn’t she?” Ted thinks back to Mae’s odd comments over the last several weeks when Trent had been in the Crown & Anchor at the same time as Ted.
“She doesn’t miss much,” Trent agrees but doesn’t elaborate. Ted thinks there’s probably a bit of a story there but his question is put off for another time when Trent asks, “Is there a chance you’d like to go to dinner with me tomorrow? At somewhere other than the Crown & Anchor, of course.”
“Indian?” Ted can’t help himself from suggesting and Trent’s eyes narrow as though he’s trying to decide if Ted is serious. Ted works hard for his expression to remain impassive but his lips are twitching upwards as he adds, “I sure do love spice.”
“I think I’ll make the final selection,” Trent declares and Ted can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of him. “It will not be Indian, so try not to be too disappointed.”
Ted grins. “I’m sure I’ll like whatever you choose. Well, so long as it’s not y’all’s regular British food, I wasn’t pulling your leg about liking some spice.”
“Noted,” Trent drawls but his eyes are full of mirth and his hand is still intertwined with Ted’s. “I’ll text you a few options in the morning.”
“Fish and chips are good, though,” Ted adds and Trent stares at him as though he’s grown a second head or attempted to recite the offsides rule again.
“Ted,” Trent begins and his expression is almost pained, “please tell me you didn’t just suggest we go to a chippy for our first date.”
“Well, now, I’ve been to some mighty fine–”
“No, Ted,” Trent interrupts, “we’re not going for fish and chips.”
“This time,” Ted adds, grinning. “I actually like the old, what did you call them, chippys? I like those places.”
“I do too,” Trent admits with a sigh. “But this time, I’m taking you somewhere nice.” His eyes sweep over Ted’s frame in a way that leaves no room for doubt about whether or not Trent finds him attractive. He smiles and adds, “For our second date, I’ll let you choose.”
“Must be feelin’ pretty confident if you’re already thinking about a second date,” Ted jokes and rather than flushing bright red as Ted would have done if someone had called him out in such a way, Trent flashes him a toothy smile.
“Call me optimistic,” Trent corrects and he brings their joined hands up to his mouth to press a kiss to the back of Ted’s hand. When he drops their hands back to his thigh, he gently disentangles their fingers and gives Ted’s hand a simple, comforting pat. “Now, and I do apologise for this, I need to be going.”
“Uh, yeah, right, of course,” Ted flounders, looking from his hand to Trent’s thigh and then up to Trent’s mouth. Trent has a pretty mouth, Ted thinks, and he liked how Trent’s lips felt pressed against his hand. He wonders if Trent might be amenable to putting his lips on other parts of Ted’s anatomy and then has to look away as spots of colour bloom on his cheeks.
“Ted, am I moving too quickly?” Trent asks in concern, not missing the redness on Ted’s cheeks or the way he’s suddenly unable to meet Trent’s gaze.
“No, that ain’t it,” Ted mumbles in embarrassment, forcing himself to look up to meet Trent’s eyes as they both rise from the sofa. “Just thinking about other, uh, things.”
Trent’s eyebrows shoot up in amused understanding. “Right. Well, I’m going to be leaving you with only your imagination tonight, I’m afraid.”
“No goodnight kiss?” Ted asks and he tries to make his voice sound lighthearted, he really does, but it comes out slightly strangled and Trent’s expression turns predatory.
“Oh, I think I can manage that much,” Trent agrees and that’s all the warning Ted has before one of Trent’s hands settles on his hip and the other reaches to cup the back of his head and tug him forward so their lips meet in a warm and rather heated kiss. Trent nips at Ted’s lower lip before kissing him deeply, fingers clutching at Ted's hip as he holds them both close together. After a few moments, Trent breaks the kiss and leans back to offer Ted a small smile. “All right?”
Ted nods and leans forward once more to press his lips against Trent’s, kissing the other man soundly before pulling away with what he knows is a goofy smile. He likes the feel of Trent’s hand on his hip and doesn’t want to be the first to break their semi-embrace.
“You’re making this difficult,” Trent mutters, brushing his lips against Ted’s once more and then stepping back to put a little distance between them.
“Maybe a little,” Ted admits with a small shrug as Trent adjusts his coat and looks towards the door. “But I know you’ve gotta go so I’ll stop dragging out this goodbye.”
Trent’s expression softens and he strides forward to kiss Ted firmly on the mouth. “I’ll text you about dinner in the morning.”
“Lookin’ forward to it,” Ted agrees easily and he wonders how fancy he’ll have to dress the following night for what Trent considers a ‘nice’ restaurant. “Hey, let me know when you get home safe, will ya?”
“Good night, Ted,” Trent answers, promising nothing, and pulls the door to the flat open. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“‘Night, Trent,” Ted calls as the door softly snicks shut and he feels a huge smile break out across his face. He’s got a date the following night with a man he’s been interested in for longer than he wants to admit and it makes him want to go to bed right away so that tomorrow will come faster.
“Like a kid on Christmas,” Ted says to himself and laughs as he starts heading for his bathroom so that he can begin his bedtime routine.
He doesn’t bother rushing through his shower so it’s well over an hour later when Ted is lying in bed finishing that same interview with Britney Spears in Entertainment Weekly that a text from Trent comes through.
Home and in bed. Sleep well, Ted x
Ted’s stomach flips over and his cheeks hurt from smiling as he reads the text. Trent’s earlier declaration of what he wanted to happen next between the two of them is something Ted is more than excited to explore. He considers putting all of this into text but deletes the long message before he can hit send. Those are things for them to talk about in person, Ted decides.
Smiling to himself, Ted types out a much shorter message.
See ya tomorrow, Trent x