Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Trent invites Ted for dinner two days before Ted’s flight to Kansas. Drives over there and they walk to the restaurant together, talking about anything and everything. The advance copy of Trent’s book is heavy in his bag while Ted apologizes once again that he won’t be there for the book release; and Trent once again shakes his head and reassures him that it’s fine. More than fine he thinks to himself.

There is more to the evening than he let on in his text - ‘Let me buy you dinner before you leave’ - but he’s saving it for later; and while it has him nervous, he’s impressed with himself for being able to keep up a normal conversation through dinner, and the walk back to Ted’s flat. His hands a bit clammy and shaking with the building nerves he pushes them further into his coat pockets as they get closer and closer to the door.

“Well, this is me.” Ted says stopping next to his door and turning to Trent who just takes a moment to look at his face; letting this smiling, kind man’s face sear itself into his brain. He’s done a fair bit of looking, sneaking looks whenever Ted’s not looking his way, and yet he can’t ever get enough. His heart rate ratchets up a notch as the moment grows closer.

“I know.” He says, and looks away, busying himself with digging through his bag. “I’ve got something-” He pulls the book out with a flourish, but doesn’t hand it to Ted right away, instead holding the book tight to his chest.

“Oh, is that the book?”

“It is. I got the advance copies the other day. I signed it, hope you don’t mind.”

“Why would I mind?” Ted asks, and then smiles, Trent’s heart skips a beat at the smile.

“I need to tell you something,” he says in a rush. If he can just get it out of his system he can leave, maybe even with some dignity intact. He’d thought about writing it down, on the inside cover of the book along with his signature, hiding behind his familiar shield that is the written word. There are so many ways a conversation can go wrong he thinks, but much like his decision to tell in the first place, he knows Ted deserves to hear it from Trent’s mouth.

“I love you.” He says, sincere and like ripping a bandaid off it is out there now, hanging in the air.

“Aw, shucks, Trent.”

Ted really is the only person Trent’s ever met who would say shucks in a conversation. He can hear his ex again going, ‘That guy, really?’. And yes, much to his own surprise, that guy, really; the heart wants what the heart wants - and apparently it can still surprise you even when you’re nearing your 50’s.

“You know I-”

“Not as a friend.” Trent interrupts and the smile slips off of Ted’s face, replaced with confusion. “More like a gay man who’s been in love with you for-” he stops himself in time “- longer than I care to admit.”

He’s proud of himself for being calm and in control, he’d worried that he’d become a mess, but no; now that he’s no longer nervous and having finally gotten it off his chest it apparently means that all he can feel now is relief; and no longer having this bottled up inside of him has him breathing freely for the first time in ages.

Realization is swiftly followed by an expression Trent can’t ever remember seeing on Ted’s face before, he hopes it’s not pity. He doesn’t know if he can handle pity.

“Trent, I’m sorr-”. Apparently no luck with the pity.

Trent holds up a hand, and Ted stops speaking. Trent wonders if he always had that power, and it just never came up before because he’d never before wanted Ted to stop talking.

“Why are you apologizing? You haven’t done anything.”

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, even though he knows he probably needs to start talking again quickly so Ted can’t start apologizing anyway.

“I’m telling you without expecting anything from you.” He says, still not opening his eyes.

Perhaps, if he had realized sooner - if he’d realized he was gay in his twenties or even earlier, he would have learnt this already; to not fall for a straight guy with a smile that made his knees weak - but he hadn’t, and so here he stands now, not expecting anything in return. “I want it off my chest, and-” he pauses to lick his lips. “You give so much of yourself to everyone around you, Ted. You deserve to know that someone loves you, even if you can’t love them back.”

He looks back at Ted again as he speaks and Ted is looking pained; something Trent hadn’t foreseen. He had already come prepared; his confession, a hurt he’s already familiar with and not keeping it inside anymore is freeing. He knows it will keep smarting later, his heart a bleeding open wound which will take time to stitch together, but it’s also so freeing to know he can begin to move on, in time. But he did just drop this all quite unexpectedly on Ted’s head.

“Trent, if I -”

Trent knows he doesn’t want to hear this; already knows what is going to come out. He steps forward and presses the book to Ted’s chest.

“I know.” He says, surprising himself with how gentle he sounds. “You changed my life,” he says. He should take a step back, not stand this close to the man, but he can’t seem to get his feet to move backwards, doesn’t want to leave his proximity just yet.

“For the better,” he adds. “You’ve changed my life for the better.” Though anyone who knew him from before would probably ask how getting a divorce and imploding his whole career over a straight man, who’d never look at him with the same helplessness Trent feels when he looks at Ted, can be a change for the better. He knows it’s better though, despite the heartache that’s kept him up at night, he is a different man thanks to Ted, a happier man.

“Will you be alright?” Ted asks, and Trent’s heart clenches at that, but he forces a smile and finally does take that step backwards.

“I’ll be fine.” He replies. He takes another step backwards. “Good night and good bye, coach Lasso from America.”

He turns and starts walking before Ted’s goodbye, wants to get to his car and sit for a while out of sight. He’s not going to start sewing his heart back together tonight, instead he is going to sit with this ache for a little bit longer, as a reminder.

Chapter Text

It’s been a nice evening, with good food and company, and their conversation continues to flow through topics on their way back. Though as they get nearer Ted’s street they fall into silence, and Trent becomes more withdrawn, the atmosphere around them changing noticeably to something more tense. Ted can’t quite work out how to ask about it before he’s standing outside his door, smiling at Trent who has a pinched expression on his face as he pulls out a book from his bag.

“Oh, is that the book?” Ted asks, excited and almost reaches out for it, but stops himself at the way Trent is holding it tight against his chest, like a shield.

“It is. I got the advance copies the other day. I signed it, hope you don’t mind.”

“Why would I mind?” Ted asks. Why would he mind? He thinks. Of course he wants a signed copy of Trent’s book, and he’s about to say as much when Trent says, in a rushed way:

“I need to tell you something.”

He sounds so serious, and Ted can’t help feeling a little bit of trepidation sneaking into his chest. Is there something about the book he’s going to be upset about? He watches Trent take a deep breath and say: “I love you.”

Relief flows through him.

“Aw, shucks, Trent.” He smiles. He knew they’d been getting along, had been happy to make a friend out of Trent Crimm, but he’s surprised and delighted that Trent sees him as a good friend as well. He has been working with everyone about being open about their feelings, and it’s nice that it’s even gotten to Trent.

You know I-” love you too, on the tip of the tongue when Trent interrupts him.

“Not as a friend.” Ted frowns, confused for a moment. “More like a gay man who’s been in love with you for longer than I care to admit.”

Oh, Ted thinks to himself, yes, that was probably the more logical conclusion he should have come to himself. Then the implications sort of rush through his head, can’t quite get his mind around him missing something this big. How he’s apparently been so unobservant to have once again not noticed someone around him and how they feel about him. Followed by the thought: ‘Trent is in love with him, and Ted is… not.’

Ted likes Trent; he has enjoyed getting to know him, befriending him like he enjoys befriending everyone really, but there’s been a certain delight in talking to him. But Ted doesn’t love him, not like that.

His chest twists as if he’s been hit, because now what? What is he supposed to do in this situation? How does he make it better, because Trent’s expression is completely flat, and Ted doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do? Doesn’t know what to say, and it feels like it’s important that he says something. He’s always had a reply to Trent, sometimes not the reply Trent expects, but he’s always had something to say, and now there’s nothing. They are friends, and Ted doesn’t want to hurt him.

“I’m sorr-” he begins but when Trent holds up a hand Ted stops speaking.

“Why are you apologizing? You haven’t done anything.”

He’s looking straight at Ted for a moment, those eyes that always seem to bore their way through Ted. And, no, perhaps Ted hasn’t done anything, but he’s also not doing anything at all, and maybe that is the problem.

Trent closes his eyes. For a moment Ted has the wild idea that perhaps if he tricked himself into being in love with Trent, then he won’t have to hurt him. It’s a thought that is there and gone in an instant, but the frustration is left.

“I’m telling you without expecting anything from you.”

Then why tell him at all? He wonders, and pushes it away, it seems uncharitable to even consider.

“I want it off my chest,” Trent seems to answer his unasked question. “You give so much of yourself to everyone around you, Ted. You deserve to know that someone loves you, even if you can’t love them back.”

Ted’s chest feels tight as it clenches around his heart. He wishes he cared less, then it would hurt less to know that he is causing someone pain. He thinks that if he could, then he probably could have come to love Trent. And he wonders why all of his words have deserted him, he needs to say something, to make it better.

“Trent, if I -”

Trent takes a step forward and Ted trails off, suddenly they are so close to one another, and he notices when Trent looks up into his face, the way his eyes linger on Ted’s mouth, for just the briefest of seconds. He clumsily grabs hold of the book pressed into his chest. He wonders how many looks he’s gotten from Trent which he’s simply not noticed or perhaps misinterpreted. How often has he almost caught Trent looking at him? Why did it take a confession for Ted to realize?

“I know.” The gentle way he says it is another hurt in Ted’s chest, because shouldn’t it be Ted trying to offer comfort? But he still doesn’t know what to say. Trent rendering him speechless for the first time, and the worst time of all. How do you make it better when the reality simply is ‘I’m flattered you’re in love with me, but I don’t love you back’.

“You changed my life.” Trent is still standing right next to him, looking up into his eyes. “For the better.” It’s a tiny bit of relief, knowing he’s had a positive impact, not just causing hurt.

“Will you be alright?” Ted asks, as Trent starts to back away. He smiles though, a small barely there smile, as he says: “I’ll be fine.”

And Ted will just have to believe him, because the alternative hurts too much.

“Good night and good bye, coach Lasso from America.”

There’s such finality to those words, as if this is the last time, it once again renders him speechless, enough so that Trent has time to turn around and start walking down the street, before Ted finally realizes what he should say.

“Hey, Trent!” He calls out. Trent turns and hums in a questioning tone.

“Whoever you fall in love with next,” Ted says. “They’ll be lucky to have you.”

That gets him a real smile from Trent.

“Thank you. And I wish you luck in your future endeavors.” Trent says, and begins walking again.

Ted watches until he can no longer see Trent and then looks down at the book in his hands. Flipping it open to look at the message underneath the book’s dedication, written above Trent’s signature. Ted’s seen Trent’s notes, knows the scrawl they are usually written in, and it’s clear he made an effort writing it out in legible letters, one short sentence.

Ted, I loved our chats.