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It’s a Wednesday when Ted wakes up with a sore throat, aches in his arms and legs, pressure all around his face, and is only able to breathe through one side of his nose. Perfect.
Ted isn’t sure just how much he can complain though, considering the recent news that Henry and Michelle are going to be moving to this side of the pond in the summer. It wasn't a hasty decision, lots of long conversations since last year, furthered by Henry's summer with Ted, but this seemed like the best option once the club was promoted. At least, that's what Michelle thought. Ted isn't going to protest. The off season feels so far away now, but he feels less empty, less stuck. He feels settled.
So, it only figures that once he feels he can relax, breathe, he gets a cold.
If it was any other day, he would muster up the energy to make it into Nelson Road, but he sends a quick text to Beard. There isn’t anything Roy and Beard can’t handle today, and Rebecca won’t be in, so no concern for missing biscuits. Beard instantly replies with, Get some rest, Coach.
Ted slowly rises, gets a shower, and finds himself in a coughing fit while putting on his red KC shirt. He spends the first half of the morning in bed, on his phone, trying to play one of those crossword games and drinking some water. He manages to have his piece of cereal and takes some cold medicine. He feels, well, sick, but also a bit lonely.
It’s not an unfamiliar feeling - he would muddle through his mild illnesses in Kansas without wanting to give anyone much trouble, Beard was usually the one to help out when he needed it, he is good at that. But Ted has always been the one to take care of others when they’re sick, make them soup, and if it was Henry or Michelle, he’d be able to comfort him with some much-needed cuddles. He loved to cuddle and didn’t care about his own chances of getting sick. It’s been a while since he could cuddle.
He would like to cuddle.
It's a futile wish.
Then his phone rings. It’s one Trent Crimm, independent.
“Hiya TC,” Ted is cut off with a cough, “what can I do for ya?” God, his voice is rough.
“Well, you could let me in for starters.” What? “I’ve picked up some food for you.”
“Oh, hey, ‘ppreciate you, be right there.” Ted is still registering, the pressure in his head is making it hard to properly think. He’s glad he stayed home. He tries to fix his hair, but it isn’t much use, he didn’t do anything to style it today.
Ted makes his way to the door, letting Trent in, “I didn’t expect anyone to come over, really didn’t want to bother anyone, I guess Coach told you?”
Trent looks a little stunned, Ted figures his appearance matches how he feels – awful.
“Yes, Coach Beard let me know when he came in this morning, he mentioned picking up mac and cheese from the place down the road for you later, but I offered to bring it to you early, instead.”
“Aw shucks, thank you, Trent. Really, I didn’t mean to be an inconvenience but I’m real thankful you’re stopping by.” Ted doesn’t want Trent to feel like he needs to stay too long, just bringing him some comfort food is too much.
“Oh, I don’t mind,” Trent says sheepishly, “no one will miss me anyway.” He sets the food down on the table and moves to look for a kettle.
“I doubt that.” Ted says and Trent looks back at him and there is a beat of silence.
“Um, do you have milk and sugar?” Trent asks, likely looking to make some tea. Ted gives him a look, suspicious, and nods.
“I bake a lot.” Ted says, feeling a bit silly for some inexplicable reason.
“Right, I knew that. Of course.” Trent puts the kettle on and asks Ted where his mugs are kept.
“You better not be up to what I think you’re up to, Trent Crimm. I’ll never be called a ‘devotea’.” The pun achieves the desired effect, making Trent do that smiley smirk.
“I just thought, maybe you’ve never tried it a bit doctored up. I remembered hearing how you preferred your coffee: barely able to taste it. I do believe you’ll go on relatively unscathed if you try it.”
Ted makes a sound, meant to be a “hm” but it turns into a cough – he instantly covers his mouth into the inside of his arm. “Sorry, you probably shouldn’t stay too long, don’t want you getting sick because of little ol’ me.”
“It’s alright Ted, Sylvie gets sick often, it happens. I’m not the one who is managing a Premier League team, I’d be doing Richmond, and my book, a disservice, if I don’t make sure that manager gets back on his feet soon.” Trent says, and he opens the bag with warm mac and cheese, but it also has a second meal, cottage pie.
“I didn’t mean to expect I could stay for a meal, but I thought maybe you’d like some company, and seeing as my absence is not going to affect training, well…” Trent trails off.
“No, no, Trent. I’m glad you’re here, thank you. I needed a lunch date.” Ted smiles with a sniffle. Trent sets up their food on the table and insists Ted sit down.
“I can’t let you wiggle your way out of trying tea.” Trent teases, Ted groans. He knows he probably looks silly, but Trent gives him this look, like there is nowhere else he’d rather be. Ted feels a little flushed, too bad it’s not from his cold.
Ted suddenly gets an ache in his chest. He isn’t too proud to admit to a crush in his mid-forties. Trent is handsome, witty, laughs at Ted's jokes, and is well, cute. But Ted doesn’t feel he’d be anyone’s “cup of tea”. He’s a lot, he knows. Trent knows some of it too.
Too much.
Trent pours one mug, telling Ted he’ll drink it if Ted finds it too much of an abomination. Ted takes a tentative, small sip.
“Hm.”
“Hmm?”
“Hm.”
Trent makes a sound, it grows into a little giggle, a snicker of victory. Ted groans again, a whine of defeat.
“It’s… warm.” Ted says, he doesn’t focus on the wins and losses, but he is stubborn to concede to leaf water. Trent’s smile feels like a win though, so he’ll call it a draw.
“Not sure that is debatable.” Trent says, going to pour his own mug now that Ted seems alright with his.
“It’s nice, thank you ‘Tea’ C.” Ted smiles, hoping that even through his headache and congestion he gets across that as much as he doesn’t want anyone to fuss, he’s grateful for the fuss.
“Even a cold can’t stifle those Lasso puns.” Trent smiles.
“Eh. I’m lucky tea is easy to work with, I’m running on about a quarter tank, puns have to take a toll.” Ted takes a bite of his food, it’s exactly what he needed.
“Hm, well, they’re pleasant company.” Trent says, Ted’s heart swells. Maybe it’s just his cold, making him feel that extra bit needy, maybe it’s the knowing he is sticking around Richmond, but he lets it swell, just for a bit, just for now.
“To our chats.” Ted says. Trent gives a small smile, and they clink their mugs.
For the next thirty minutes or so, they discuss football strategies, a bit of light Nelson Road gossip, Henry, Sylvie, and music.
“Favorite song of Sir Elton John’s?” Ted asks.
“Someone Saved My Life Tonight, you?” Trent quickly replies, knowing immediately.
“It’s gotta be Don’t Let the Sun Go Down on Me, live with George Michael.” Ted answers back. Trent hums his approval.
Ted stands up, ready to take care of their dishes and trash, but Trent stops him. “You’re sick, let me handle it.” Ted would resist, but maybe… maybe Trent likes the fuss too.
“Alright,” Ted puts his hands up, “I’ll just go get some more cold medicine.”
“No, just find somewhere to settle down, sofa, bed, wherever and I’ll get it. You need to rest.”
Ted coughs into his arm again, his body telling him Trent is right.
“Yeah, alright. I’ll uh, I’ll be in my bedroom.”
Ted settles into his bed on one side, he checks his phone and grins, Michelle sent a video of Henry winning a match on one of those FIFA games, the text reads He was playing as AFC Richmond. He loves that kid more than anything.
“Here you go,” Trent brings him his medicine and a glass of water, “I’d rather not outstay my welcome, but is there anything else I can get you? Do?”
Ted doesn’t want Trent to leave but that’s not something he can ask, and it’s not exactly what he wants to ask, but Trent sees him thinking.
“Well, you’ve thought of something, what do you need? A book?”
“No.” Ted answers, he starts to cough again. “It’s silly.”
“I think we’re all allowed some silliness when we’re sick.” Trent sits on the edge of the bed and nudges Ted’s knee lightly with his elbow. “What is it?”
“I don’t want to get you sick.” Trent gives him a look.
“Ted, what can I do?”
“Can I…” Then he pauses, feeling too silly, he’s a manager of a football team, he doesn’t need to be coddled. He doesn’t, really. “Can I have a hug?” He finally gets out. Trent looks a bit surprised but pleased.
“Oh, of course. Of course, you can, Ted.” He scoots closer, sticking to the edge of the bed, and hugs Ted tightly. Ted instantly feels a bit better, just with this small act that feels decidedly not silly now. Ted relaxes further into the hug, letting out a sigh.
“You could never outstay your welcome.” Ted tells him, please stay.
“Be careful, I may be inclined to stick around. I’ve got nowhere to be today.” Trent replies and Ted makes a small, happy sound.
“Stick around.” Ted muffles into his shoulder.
“Alright.” Trent releases him and Ted whines. “I’m just going to get more comfortable.”
“Okay,” Ted says, and watches him go around the bed, kick off his Chucks, and get under the covers, leaning his back against the headboard. “Come here?”
Trent scoots a bit and opens his arms as an invitation, and Ted instantly lays his head on his shoulder and puts his arm around him.
“Thank you.” Ted murmurs.
“Everyone needs a hug, a cuddle, even former reporters.” Trent tells him and adjusts to where he can gently rub Ted’s back.
They settle in like this for a while, they both reconfigure to find the most comfortable arrangement but stay relatively in the same position. Trent offers to read to Ted some random wiki articles off his phone, and eventually Ted falls asleep.
When Ted wakes up, he finds that he’s still in Trent’s arms, shifted to be a bit more on top of him, and can tell Trent had fallen asleep too. He doesn’t want to wake him; he doesn’t want this to end. Ted hears Trent stir. He knows this is going to be awkward. Trent will ask if he needs anything before he heads out. Then Ted will be alone again.
Trent tightens his arms around Ted, readjusting them, and then kisses Ted’s forehead at his hairline. Ted looks up at him, Trent looks a bit horrified, likely not meaning to have done that.
Of course, he didn’t mean to.
“Sorry, I didn’t- sorry, if that made you uncomfortable. I give Sylvie forehead kisses, she like them.” Trent stutters out. Ted immediately shakes his head.
“No, not uncomfortable. Sounds like Miss Sylvie and I have mutual interests.” Ted says sheepishly. He’ll take what Trent will give him while he has the chance.
“Right… well then.” Trent lightly kisses his forehead again. “How are you feeling?”
Instead of responding, Ted sniffles and shifts upwards and closer, pressing his nose against Trent’s neck. Trent brings his hand up and rubs his thumb over the nape of Ted’s neck.
“Not great, then?” Trent asks.
“I wouldn’t say that.” Ted answers, further nuzzling into Trent’s neck. Trent makes a small noise akin to a squeak.
“Ted, I don’t want to assume-”
“Please assume.” Ted tells him, moving back to look Trent in the eye. Ted’s hair is even more of a mess, but the way Trent is looking at him, like he’s something to cherish, makes him think Trent doesn’t mind. Trent has one hand near Ted’s hip, more on his back, and the other at his neck. Ted feels almost cradled.
“Ted…” Trent starts.
“Yeah?” Ted sniffles.
“I really don’t mind if I get sick.” Trent looks down at Ted’s lips. Oh.
“Yeah… yeah, one sec-” Ted coughs into his arm. “Okay, howdy.” Ted does a little wiggle with his eyebrows, making Trent giggle with that lovely scrunch of his nose.
“Hello.”
“You’re gonna get the sniffles and the aches.” Ted warns. He brushes Trent’s hair out of the way.
“It’s worth it.” Trent says, moving his hand from Ted’s neck to cup his face.
“If you’re sure.”
Ted closes the small distance between them and Trent sighs into the kiss. Finally, Ted thinks even though this didn’t seem like a real possibility hours ago. Their lips part for only a second, as Trent takes the kiss further, which makes Ted produce a noise strikingly similar to Trent’s earlier squeak.
It’s many minutes later they fully pull apart (Ted's sniffles got in the way here and there), both looking thoroughly kissed, for Ted to say with a chuckle, “I am no doctor, but I would expect some rough cold symptoms in the next couple of days.”
“Mm, I may need to get some of that mac and cheese for myself. A cuddle wouldn’t hurt either.”
“Don’t worry, darlin’. I’ll take care of you.” Trent gives him a fond look to which Ted replies with a peck to his nose and then settles back on Trent’s chest.
“Fancy Indian later? May help you breathe.” Trent suggests as he brushes his fingers through Ted’s hair.
“I was hoping you'd say that.” Ted sighs as Trent kisses his forehead.
Ted begins to doze off, feeling pleasantly fussed over, knowing he’ll be having some delicious (hopefully not too spicy) food, likely some more tea, and many more cuddles and kisses. He hears Trent mention something about needing to go home eventually, if only to return. Ted murmurs his thoughts, hoping the words come out before he slips into sleep, “got a spare toothbrush.”