Archive of Our Own

It ended as it started – in Nelson Road’s press room.

He doesn’t know how long he’s rooted in his spot in front of the desk, but Trent is vaguely aware that the sun has already set and everyone must’ve gone home by now. In fact, he should’ve left hours ago, but since his daughter is with his parents for the weekend, there was no need for Trent to rush home. However, beyond reasons he doesn’t care to speculate at this moment, something compelled him to visit the press room. So he allowed his feet to walk past corridors he has become well acquainted with over the past several months towards the one room that used to be the most familiar to him.

The room where it all began, Trent thinks with wry amusement.

“Ah, there he is! Just the man I’m looking for.”

Trent looks up and over his shoulder to see Ted cross the threshold, the door closing behind him with a soft but resounding snick. Given how it’s the end of the season, and the last press conference taking place a few days ago, the sound echoes in the vacant room like the force of a gavel, commanding the attention of the only occupants who, for some inexplicable reason, now happen to be in the same place where they first met.

“Coach Lasso, from America,” the ex-journalist greets with his trademark half-smile half-smirk. Just for old time’s sake.

Ted walks further into the room, past the rows of chairs – Trent doesn’t miss the glance Ted throws at his chair on the second row – and approaches him with languid steps, dimples prominent on his handsome face.

“Trent Crimm, Independent and soon-to-be best-selling author.”

Trent snorts and ignores the warmth he can feel blooming in his cheeks. He never seemed to outgrow his tendency to blush, a fact his ex-wife never fails to bring up during their bi-weekly Sunday dinners, where Sophie regales him with anecdotes from work and Trent talks about the progress of his book and Arabella’s latest obsession (she has discarded Frozen like yesterday’s trash and is currently going through a unicorn phase).

“Did you know, you blush every time you talk about the gaffer,” Sophie tells him one night, several months ago when Trent had just started shadowing the Richmond team.

“No, I don’t.” Trent scoffs at the mere idea of it. As if.

Sophie shakes her head, not bothering to hide her smirk. “Yes, you do. And before you deny it again, remember that we’ve been best friends for over twenty years so I know all your tells. Be careful with what you say next, Crimm.”

“Piss off, Cooke,” Trent aims a glower at her, not able to say the alternative due to their five-year-old being present at the dinner table. And, yes, he’s definitely blushing at this point.

“Piss off!” Arabella squeals. She bangs her adorable fists on the high chair, bits of mashed potato and carrots flying in different directions as she continues to chant in-between bouts of giggling.

Sophie throws her head back when she cackles, much to Trent’s fond exasperation.

“– you okay, sport?”

Trent blinks and focuses back to the present. Ted is now standing next to him, who is looking at Trent with a mild frown.

Trent clears his throat and nods.

“Yes, of course. I was just ruminating.”

“Care to share with the class what you’re ruminating about, then?”

There’s a twinkle in Ted’s eyes as he meets Trent’s, belied only by an unreadable emotion that sweeps over his whiskey-coloured gaze and the significance of the moment, a pressing weight that Trent has tried his best to ignore over the past week since the American announced to the team and coaching staff that he was leaving at the end of the season.

Instead of deflecting the question or responding with a question of his own, Trent allows himself a moment to indulge and decides to go with the truth.

“The inevitability of endings,” Trent answers, unabashedly maudlin and secretly pleased to see the look of surprise on Ted’s face. “And how one person can change the course of another’s life, for better or worse. In this case, it’s certainly for the better.”

Ted doesn’t respond instantly, and Trent remains patiently quiet, more than happy to give the other man time to gather his thoughts.

He spent two years harbouring a school-boy crush on Ted when he was still working at The Independent, and it’s no surprise that his infatuation gradually bloomed into something more when he started working on his book. It was inevitable, really, the moment he decided to write about Ted and the good influence he has brought upon AFC Richmond.

They said to never fall in love with your muse. But Trent surmises that they haven’t met one Theodore Lasso.

It’s that moment Ted finally finds his words to utter, “You flatter me, Trent Crimm. And I never took myself as a flat-Earther believer.”

Trent purses his lips for a beat longer. “That was bad.”

“Ope, yeah, certainly not my best,” Ted agrees with a wince, and he shakes his head as if to physically rid himself of the bad pun he just made. “If I’m keeping count, that’ll be the fifth time today.”

Trent notes that his hair is slightly unkempt, devoid of product as a few long strands flop over his eyes. He follows the movement of Ted’s arm as he sweeps a hand over his hair, an absent-minded gesture that never fails to ignite a simmering heat in Trent’s gut.

“The fifth?” Trent raises an eyebrow at him, intrigued. “Pray tell, who else have you victimised?”

“Roy, Will, Rebecca, and Higgy-pop.” Before Trent can inquire further, Ted quickly adds, “Trust me, the less you know what I said, the better. Even Roy just gave me this really long look instead of expressing himself so eloquently. And don’t get me started with the boss! I was just in her office actually, dropping off a couple boxes of those biscuits she’s not-so-secretly obsessed with. You’d think I just admitted to slaughterin’ Mr. Atkins’ cow after I told her something along the lines of a last supper. She did not take kindly to that, no siree. Heck, I suppose it’s not a surprise I’m off my groove today. Seeing as that I’m, well…”

“Since it’s your last day at Richmond today, and you’re flying home to Kansas tomorrow.”

Ted meets Trent’s melancholic smile with a wry twist of his lips. He nods his head, the movement sharp.

“Got it in one, James Gunn,” Ted says, aiming one finger gun at Trent before he shoves both hands inside the pockets of his khakis.

Together, they stand shoulder to shoulder as they stare at the desk rooted on the raised platform in front of them. Devoid of mobile devices and microphones, it looks like any regular table, blue-grey in colour but of good quality. All the while, Trent is hyper-aware of their shoulders touching, softly brushing against each other. The fire that has been simmering in his belly ignites further at the contact, but Trent quashes it before it can climb higher.

While he has come to believe in rom-communism, Trent is still a realist, and the reality is that not all endings end happily. Especially not in his case, with Ted leaving for Kansas tomorrow.

Ted is leaving, and he’ll carry with him the letters and farewell gifts the team has thoughtfully gifted him a few nights ago during their celebratory-slash-farewell party at Ola’s. Ted is leaving, and he’ll leave with his khakis and jumpers and collection of Nike trainers Trent admits has grown on him.

He’ll leave behind twenty-two young men who, up until three years ago, didn’t know how to work as a team, but now have learned to trust and rely on each other.

Ted is leaving, and he’ll leave behind a club owned by a fierce and headstrong woman who has become one of Ted’s steadfast supporters and loyal friends.

Ted is leaving, and he will leave behind a changed man, one who deliberately blew up his twenty-year journalistic career over an optimistic moustachioed American he barely knew at the time, because he respected said optimistic moustachioed American so much, and because Trent no longer liked the person he was staring at in the mirror every damn day.

Be the change you wish to see in the world, Gandhi once said. In Trent’s case, it’s: Write the change you want to see in the world.

So Trent did, and he ended up writing a book inspired by one man who has inspired him to change for the better. If he’s being honest, Trent admits that it’s the longest love letter he’s ever written.

There are worse ways to go, he surmises, and heartbreak is not one of them.

“You gotta admit, there’s something poetic about us standing here,” Ted comments, sounding wistful. “Who would’ve thought, huh? How time flies so fast. Feels like yesterday you were just standing over there at your spot, asking if my hiring was a fuckin’ joke.” Ted shakes his head with a chuckle.

Trent was just thinking the same, and he turned to look at Ted to say so, only to see the other man already staring at him, his gaze warm and steady.

Trent’s lips twitch into another half-smile. “I was thinking the same thing,”

“No way!” Ted exclaims, just a tad too enthusiastic. “Well, ain’t that a funny coincidence?”

Trent’s half-smile instantly shifts into a wide, teasing grin. “I’ll have you know that a wise man once told me that the funny thing about coincidences is that sometimes, they just happen.”

“Those are wise words, indeed,” Ted hums in agreement, feigning a look of consideration. “Lemme tell you, that’s a wise man to keep in your life.”

“Is that so?”

“Mm-hm. And y’know what wise men always say…”

Trent’s brain buffers for a few seconds before understanding dawns on him.

“Only fools rush in?”

“Yup.”

Trent doesn’t bother to hide his snort, although he meets Ted’s grin with a pointed look.

“What really brings you here, Ted?” Trent probes, his curiosity finally winning over. Besides, he knows Ted won’t mind the non-sequitur. “I thought you had left by now. I remember seeing Coach Beard depart over an hour ago.”

“Like I mentioned earlier, I dropped off some biscuits for the boss,” Ted answers with a nonchalant shrug. He pauses and looks at Trent, a pained smile flitting across his face for a moment. “Well, I suppose she’s not ‘boss’ anymore, right? Not after today. Plus, I had to finish a few paperworks before I go.”

“I wish you didn’t,” Trent blurts out before he can stop himself. He inwardly cringes and berates himself. You fucking idiot.

Ted’s brows furrow, momentarily confused. “What, finish the paperwork? I mean, I know I sometimes like to leave some things on the eleventh hour, but I can’t on good conscience not fin–”

Well, in for a penny, in for a pound, as the saying goes.

“I mean I wish you didn’t have to go,” Trent swiftly interrupts him, and Ted’s jaw snaps shut at his honesty.

For a moment, neither of them speak. He observes the way Ted’s face scrunches into an expression he rarely sees on him – nose twitching and brows furrowed, a moue of regret and guilt and misery – one that Trent decides he never wants to see on Ted Lasso’s face.

“I’m sorry, that was uncalled for,” Trent starts but Ted shakes his head emphatically.

“No, no no no, you got nothing to apologise for,” Ted says with an intensity Trent rarely sees in the other man. “I appreciate you, Trent. You never pulled your punches, especially when it came to the truth, and I don’t expect you to go easy on me now just ‘cos we’re friends. So keep bringing that heat. You hear me?”

Trent’s lips twist into a smile. “Loud and clear.”

Ted’s smile widens a fraction, eyes crinkling and making his crow’s feet more noticeable. Just as quickly, his smile disappears, and Trent’s chest aches when Ted breaks his gaze to swallow inaudibly.

“I, uh, I do appreciate your honesty, Trent. I really do. And it only makes sense that I’m honest as well.”

“Oh, no, you don’t have to–” Trent starts.

Ted shakes his head.

“No, it’s alright. I oughta tell you, anyway. You deserve to know.” He takes a deep breath and exhales loudly through his nose. “And the truth is, Trent, I wish I didn’t have to leave, either.”

Trent blinks in shock at the rawness in Ted’s voice. Then, once the words register in him, Trent’s face crumples. He quickly looks away so Ted doesn’t see how affected he is by that confession. Fuck, that hurts.

However, Ted continues, his voice slightly choked and oblivious to Trent’s internal struggle.

“But speaking from one dad to another, I know you can understand why I have to. Trent, you gotta understand, I don’t want to leave. It’s the last thing I wanna do. But I have to. For Henry. My little boy, he’s growing up, and I don’t want him to grow up thinking I was an absent father. I don’t want him to think that I don’t want to be there for him, ‘cos I do. I wanna be there for him, and I wanna raise my son. I wanna be a few minutes away from him instead of four thousand miles away. He’s my number one priority, and between staying here indefinitely versus needing to be there for my son, choosing Henry was a no-brainer.”

Trent breathes in deep through his nose and forces himself to turn and meet Ted’s anguished expression.

“But Trent, honey,” Ted utters, voice low and rough as he stares into Trent’s eyes with an intensity that takes his breath away. It certainly doesn’t escape his notice of the pet name used for him – honey – said so casually, as easy as breathing, as if in Ted’s head he’s been honey for some time now. The mere thought of it is enough to send Trent to his knees, his chest aching with a yearning so profound he wonders how he’s still standing upright. “Please believe me when I say that while it was a necessary decision to make, it was also the hardest decision I ever made. You – the team – this has… in the three years I’ve been here, I’ve grown to love this place and the people in it. I mean, Richmond has become my home. But Henry has half of my heart. He’s my home, too.”

“Oh, Ted. I understand, I really do,” Trent answers quietly. His voice is almost a whisper, afraid that if he speaks normally his voice would crack. “Please don’t think that you need to justify your decisions for leaving, least of all to me. Being a parent entails making sacrifices for our children, and they’re sacrifices worth making, even at the cost of our own happiness and comfort. I would never begrudge you the opportunity to be closer to your son. Henry is a wonderful boy, and he will grow into a wonderful man. I’m sure he’s aware of how blessedly fortunate he is to have you as his father. While others will claim, and have claimed, that your heart is your folly, I beg to differ. Your kindness has always been your strength, Ted. You bring the best out of everyone and inspire us all to follow in your footsteps, whether we wish to be changed by you or not.”

The last bit is said with a teasing smile, a clumsy attempt on Trent’s part to cheer up the other man. It somewhat works since Ted ducks his head with a chuckle.

“Thank you.”

Trent raises an eyebrow. “Whatever for? I was just speaking the truth.”

“Yeah, I know.” Ted smiles at him, lopsided but genuine. “But I got a feeling you haven’t been thanked enough, considering your previous occupation. Uh, that’s actually why I was looking for you.”

“What?”

“I was looking for you ‘cos I wanted to thank you.”

Trent blinks, mouth gaping open like a fish for a few beats.

“Ted, I– that’s not necessary.”

Ted scoffs and shakes his head. “Well now, I digress. Seriously, though, please allow me this moment to thank you.”

Ted looks at Trent from underneath his lashes. In the silence of the press room, the hitch in Trent’s breath is unmistakable. Nor is the way Ted’s eyes darken when their gazes lock onto each other again.

“Thank you for knowing the right words to say. Thank you for being so kind and understanding. Thank you for finding your bliss and choosing to use your God-given talent by writing a book about the team.” Ted lists off with a slight tilt of his head. He pauses, as if considering his next words, before he shrugs again with a dimpled smile and proceeds to bulldoze through Trent’s weakly constructed walls. “And thank you for allowing me to get to know you this past year. Because knowing you, Trent Crimm, has been one of the best privileges I ever had the pleasure of having.”

Trent isn’t aware of them shifting their positions. One minute they’re standing shoulder to shoulder, and the next they’re facing each other – too close to be considered normal between two friends. There’s probably less than a foot of space between them.

Trent can count the freckles that are sprinkled across Ted’s nose and cheeks. Trent thinks if given the opportunity he would be inclined to find out what constellations he can map out on Ted’s face alone. Gaze drawn downwards, Trent also glimpses a few grey hairs on the other man’s well-trimmed moustache, full lips invitingly soft yet slightly chapped. Trent’s eyes, hungry and searching and yearning, slowly trails back up, past the dimples on his cheeks, the adorable freckles and the attractive slope of his nose, until he meets Ted’s eyes.

Up close, Trent discerns long lashes framing the prettiest shade of brown eyes he’s ever seen. If there was ever a significant moment for Trent to fall, it would be this moment right here. Unfortunately for him, he’s been in a state of free falling for the last three years. Yet, in all that time, Trent never allowed himself to think, to wonder, if there was a possibility that perhaps, his feelings could be reciprocated. It’s just his luck, then, that it’s on Ted’s last day in Richmond, his last day in the UK, that Trent would get his answer.

After all, he’s all too familiar with the state of pining for someone. So it feels like he’s been struck by lightning when he sees that same look of quiet, desperate longing in Ted’s pretty brown eyes as he gazes at Trent.

Oh.

“Oh,” Trent says, dumbfounded.

Ted responds to Trent’s astonished expression with a soft, sad smile.

It's as if a switch has been flipped, and Trent's mind reels off months of moments that he has shared with the man across from him.

From their daily coffee/tea runs in the cafeteria, to Diamond Dogs meetings with the boys, to nights having drinks or dinner (often both) at the Crown & Anchor, to days out on the pitch when Ted would look over at Trent in glee when the team executes a play they’ve been working on, to evenings in the office when Trent would stay late because the right words seemed to come to him seamlessly and Ted would stay with him to finish some paperwork or FaceTime Henry.

Trent thinks back on Sunday afternoons spent in the park with Arabella, where Ted would meet him on the bench Trent has secretly claimed as theirs, and Ted would always bring with him a pink box of biscuits for Bella and a takeaway cup of Earl Grey tea from their favourite coffee shop for Trent. They would spend hours, talking and laughing and teasing each other, as they both watched over Trent’s daughter running around or going up and down the slide, their drinks getting cold the longer they stayed in their spot, shoulders and knees brushing and lightly bumping against each other.

“I’m a fucking idiot,” Trent breathes out at last.

“Hey, now, no need for that kind of negative self-talk,” Ted gently admonishes him, but the sad smile on his face never wavers.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Trent asks, begs, his voice trembling with barely concealed emotion. “How long have you–? Did you know that I–?”

Slowly, as if he’s dealing with a skittish animal, Ted removes his hands from his pockets and sets them lightly on Trent’s forearms. He belatedly remembers leaving his blazer draped over the back of his chair in the office, leaving Trent only in his yellow Golden Girls shirt. Ted’s palms are warm and smooth, the pads of his fingers slightly rough as they wrap delicately around Trent’s bare skin. The touch grounds him and leaves him feeling on cloud nine at the same time.

He hates it.

He loves it.

“To answer questions number one and three, I didn’t know if you felt the same way.” Ted starts slowly, his voice equally wobbly. “I mean, a part of me was hoping you would, but I didn’t allow myself to believe, y’know? Even Beard, Roy, and Higgins were encouraging me to say something to you. Hell, even Keeley and Rebecca kept urging whenever we had one of those girl talks. Um, but I guess you can say I was chicken-shit.”

Ted bites his lip for a moment. Trent tracks the movement, not caring how transparent he’s being in his blatant ogling.

Ted continues. “I was gearing myself up to ask you out, though, but then my mama visited me and, well. You can guess what happened next. After I announced to the team that I was leaving at the end of the season, I decided to not say anything instead. I didn’t see a point in telling you, and it just seemed cruel, y’know? To confess my feelings and then leave. I didn’t wanna – I couldn’t hurt you, Trent. I couldn’t hurt you like that, honey. I’d rather hurt myself than hurt you, ‘cos you’re so… you’re so good. You’re so good, and you deserve good things. Heck, you deserve the best! I just couldn’t do that to you. So that’s why I kept my mouth shut.”

It takes Trent a few tries before he croaks out, “And the other question?”

Ted huffs out a laugh, but he tightens his grip on Trent and takes another step closer. Their chests are touching, now, and Trent has to lift his chin a bit to maintain eye contact.

“Well,” Ted says, drawing out the syllable. Trent is fascinated when his cheeks turn pink before Ted shyly admits, “I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say that I realised I had feelings for you after you wrote that article.” Seeing Trent’s bewildered reaction, Ted huffs out a self-deprecating laugh. “I know, given the circumstances, I know it was a crazy time – the lowest point in my career, if I say so myself – for me to realise I was head over heels for you. But looking back, I think I’ve liked you since that first dinner we had at Ollie’s. It felt awfully like a date, y’know? I mean, I was married at the time, so nothing could happen then, of course. And I didn’t let myself think too much over it, either. But since we’re here now, you deserve to learn the truth, Trent Crimm. Now more than ever. Before I go.”

Trent wants to cry. He has never been a crier. In fact, he can name specific moments in his life where he cried using two hands, and with a few fingers to spare. Yet in this moment, in the same room where it all began, with the man he has fallen desperately in love with, Trent finds that if there’s ever a moment to cry, now would be perfectly acceptable.

There’s so much to unpack from this one conversation, but Trent is reminded again of the reality that they don’t have the luxury of time.

Because Ted is leaving.

Trent can blame it on their circumstances all he wants, but ultimately, nobody is to blame. Not their respective marriages and divorces. Not the chances missed. Not the risks taken because neither were prepared nor ready to ruin such a great friendship. Not the four thousand miles that will soon separate them.

Trent doesn’t know when he will get to be this close to Ted again, but he knows that they will keep in touch. Everyone at Richmond has made that clear to Ted, after all, when they extracted a verbal promise from the American to not ghost them once he’s left British soil. While long-distance relationships of all kinds are never easy, Trent chooses to believe that the bond they’ve forged and established is strong enough to last.

He has to believe it, because if Trent doesn’t, then what is the point?

Not wanting to burden Ted with his spiralling thoughts, Trent makes up his mind and decides to cling to this moment instead. He says the first thing that comes to mind.

“You always say my full name whenever you’re trying to make a point. I’m embarrassed to admit that it took me a while to notice, but when I did, well… I just wonder if you were aware of it.”

Ted looks at him, face impossibly soft with fondness as he gazes down at Trent with an indulgent smile.

“Well now, Ron Chernow, to borrow a British slang, I’m a bit miffed it took you this long to notice,” Ted utters, his smile widening when Trent lets out a laugh. “Of course I was aware of it. Don’t you know by now, Trent Crimm? I love your name.”

Trent can read between the lines just fine.

“I love your name, too,” he responds, sounding just as fond. He says it the same way Ted does. He says it the same way he knows it means something else.

Ted looks at him like he knows exactly what Trent is thinking, his fond smile slowly transforming into a grin.

“I love your glasses.”

Trent rolls his eyes and decides, fuck it, he’ll play along.

“I love your moustache.”

“I love your hair. So much, you have no idea.”

“I love how vocal you are with your hatred for tea. It’s quite ballsy of you.”

Ted laughs out loud, the sound pleasant to Trent’s ears.

“I love your brain.”

It’s Trent’s turn to laugh, and he scrunches his nose, thinking, What a dork.

“I love your horrible puns and pop culture references, even if I don’t understand half of what you say.”

“I love your smile, especially when your nose scrunches up – yeah, just like that!”

“I love your kindness.”

A pleasant shiver runs down Trent’s spine when he sees twin red spots on Ted’s cheeks.

“I love seeing you grow comfortable here in Richmond, and how you allowed us to truly get to know you.”

“I love that you proved me wrong all those years ago.”

Ted blinks, mouth agape, before he makes an unintelligible sound that makes Trent smile wider.

“I love the fact that you never give up on your people. I love that you patiently cultivated a culture based on kindness and inclusivity and trust, and love. Love for the game, love for one another. And as much as it hurts to see you leave, I love the time that I have spent with you – getting to know and being known by you.”

“Trent…” Ted mutters, stricken.

But Trent carries on.

“Your kindness has changed me for the better, Ted. And while it breaks my heart to see you leave, I’m glad I was given this opportunity to thank you as well. For everything. It doesn’t feel sufficient, and I don’t think I can ever thank you enough for the impact you’ve had on me – on everyone at Richmond, frankly speaking.” Trent pauses and licks his lips to allow himself a few seconds to gather the rest of his thoughts. “The old me from a year ago would’ve asked you to stay for selfish reasons. But I’m not that person anymore, so I won’t.”

“You wouldn’t be the first,” Ted remarks, brows furrowed.

“I’m not surprised. You’re incredibly loved here, Ted.”

Silence reigns over them once more, but this time it’s no longer a pressing weight. It seems that they both have been carrying so much inside for so long, the weighted stares, the longing glances (in Trent’s case, at least), and the conversations heavy with meaning – it was only hurting them both. Keeping in so much of what they thought and felt for each other was only hurting them, and now that most of it has been let out in the open, it’s… freeing, in a way.

Trent’s inner musings are interrupted once more when he feels a gentle pressure against his forehead. He blinks and notices belatedly that Ted has pressed his forehead against his. The gesture is so intimate, so tender, that Trent fights back a whimper.

Fuck. He could’ve had this. They could’ve had this. If only–

No, Trent interrupts his own thoughts stubbornly. You are not going down that dangerous path. It’s never done you good. Be better than this, Crimm. You know you’re better than this.

“What’s going on in that beautiful noggin’ of yours?” Ted asks quietly. Trent feels strong arms wrap around his slender form, Ted’s fingers grazing on Trent’s lower back in shapeless patterns. His brain short circuits and reboots in the span of five seconds. “I lost you there for a second.”

Trent finds himself settling his hands on Ted’s hips, his palms a little damp from the sudden display of affection.

“I was thinking…”

“Yeah? Call me Dumbo ‘cos I’m all ears.”

“I was thinking,” Trent starts slowly. He can feel his heart thumping in his ears, but he takes a deep breath and, seeing the open affection in Ted’s eyes, he finds the courage to speak his truth. “Before we find ourselves regretting not having the courage to do so, I think you should kiss me. Ted, I want you to kiss me. That is, if you’re amenable.”

Ted’s smile fades by the time Trent is finished. Before doubt can take its root, Trent lets out a surprised gasp when he feels Ted’s huge hands frame his face. The rough pads of Ted’s thumbs lightly stroke Trent’s cheeks, and Trent’s breathing is shallow as anticipation curls up his spine, until every part that Ted has touched of Trent’s lights up like those damn beacons in Lord of the Rings.

Ted gently brushes his nose against Trent’s. He feels the pricking sensation in his eyes as his heart aches at the gesture.

“Believe me, Trent Crimm, I’m more than amenable,” Ted murmurs against Trent’s lips before he kisses him.

Trent closes his eyes and vows to remember this point in time, wrapped up in a loving embrace with the man he loves. The kiss starts slow and sweet, but when Trent tilts his head just so and lets out a soft sigh – at last, this is how it’s like to kiss Ted, this is how Ted’s lips feel against his, soft and slightly chapped but warm and exquisite – the pace picks up. He feels Ted press closer, the fingers framing his face sliding to run through his grey locks, and Trent surrenders himself, thinks take it, take me, darling, I’m yours. I was always yours.

He opens up to Ted, and Ted takes. And Trent gives, gives, gives, and he reciprocates. He finds his own hands wandering a path up Ted’s ribcage, the sides of his broad chest, the muscles of his shoulders, until Trent has one hand buried in Ted’s hair, gripping the longer strands that never fail to fall over Ted’s face. Trent’s other hand is placed on the nape of Ted’s neck, well-trimmed nails lightly grazing the small hairs. He feels Ted shiver and moan against him, and Trent finds himself falling in love all over again.

If this is all he’s going to get, if this is as far as they can go, then Trent will make the most of it.

It’s a little funny, in retrospect. For them to come together, only to be torn apart, in the same room where they met the first time.

He will treasure every touch, every kiss, every sigh of pleasure. Trent will take note of the breathy moan Ted makes when he nibbles on the other man’s lower lip. He will memorise the feel of Ted’s arms around him, his hands caressing every part of Trent he can get a hold of, every bare skin he grazes and kisses. Trent will remember the feel of Ted’s brittle moustache as his mouth travels up and down Trent’s neck, the apples of his cheeks, his eyelids, the slope of his nose, and how his lips slot perfectly against Trent’s. He will commit to memory the feeling of belonging, of feeling at home, in Ted’s arms.

Trent is too far gone in his saccharine thoughts that he doesn’t mind the journey his mind takes. He even reassesses his earlier stance. He may be a realist, and life has made him a cynic, but perhaps there is more in store for him. Because this can’t be the end – this won’t be the end of his and Ted’s story.

For a while, time stands still for two men in their late-forties. For an indeterminate length of time, Trent allows himself in this moment to be, and he will treasure this in a special place in his mind, in his heart.

For a while, Trent has Ted, and Ted has him.

For a while, they’re simply two men who are showing their affection for one another, not caring for what will happen next.

All the suffering, the hell they both went through… it’s all leading up to something greater, something sweeter.

For a while, Trent lets his traitorous heart hope that he can have this. While, yes, it’s the hope that kills you, some part of him does the unthinkable.

Trent chooses to believe.