TO: jule1122 FROM:sangwin TITLE: New Year GIFT REQUEST: Fic. Post-series. I would love a Ted/Blake fic showing how they finally make things work, but I would also enjoy an ensemble type story that they were part of as I adore all the characters. Of course, a good dose of Brian/Justin is always appreciated.
It’s well past midnight when Ted looks up to find Blake leaning against the doorframe.
“Sorry,” Ted sighs. It’s the fourth night in a row and he knows it’s not good.
Blake shrugs but doesn’t smile. “Let’s go,” head tilted towards home.
“I just…”
“Ted. Brian isn’t even here.”
Blake looks exhausted. He is wearing sweatpants and his hair is standing in odd little sleep whorls--Ted knows he likely fell asleep alone, then woke up alone, again.
Ted shuts down his computer and glances around his office. He reaches out to grab a stack of file folders because he should…
“No.”
...he smiles sheepishly at Blake, who this time smiles back, eyebrow cocked.
Ted grabs his coat and locks the door.
Blake might be irritated at having to drive across town in the middle of the night to drag Ted away from Brian’s expense reports and year end projections, but he still kisses Ted on the lips, soft and warm, and hands him the fuzzy mittens that Ted accidentally left on the kitchen table when he hurried out that morning.
In the car with the heater on full blast, Blake speaks softly. “What is it this time?”
“Jesus. Brian is trying to buy the Liberty Diner.”
“What? Seriously? He’s not going to turn it into some upscale--”
“No! Exactly the opposite actually. Downtown real estate is through the freaking roof and Liberty Ave doesn’t have the same stigma that it used to. Brian is is just trying to keep someone else from buying it and closing it down--turning it into a Whole Foods or a god damn J.Crew. He managed to save Babylon and now he is evidently a man on a mission.”
“Is the diner actually worth anything?”
“Financially? No. It’s a terrible idea. He’s not trying to buy the diner--he is trying to buy the whole building. And the one next to it, actually. He is full steam ahead with plans and ideas and a freaking interior designer and ‘make it happen, Ted.’ I think he wants things to change--to improve, but he also wants them to stay exactly the same. It’s hard to find the compromise.
"Right now the numbers don’t actually work. Kinnetik is doing well--like really fucking well and Brian is seriously rich at this point, but out bidding major developers on two downtown buildings is a lot to ask and a ton of risk--all so that Brian can keep a tacky diner, a novelty bookstore and a seriously-in-the-red leather bar open. The second building is already empty--so at least there’s a chance there.”
“What does Brian want with an empty building?”
“I first I thought he wanted to extend Kinnetik, or maybe move? But I knew that couldn’t be right. We have plenty of space and he is really oddly attached to that stupid cum-stained bathhouse. Then I thought it was just a fuck you to the company that wants to buy it. But, now...
"I did find a set of plans folded up in one of his office drawers for an art gallery. He even had a fucking logo sketched onto a napkin paper clipped to the back of one of them--Taylor-Kinney.”
“Justin would kill him.”
“I know, right? It’s like some sort of not actually married but married through art/business/money bullshit.”
“Justin doesn't need Brian to buy an art gallery. He already has great representation in New York and Los Angeles. His work is just starting to be exhibited internationally. An artist like that doesn't need some start up gallery in the Pitts…”
“Nick, that creepy guy that owns the gallery Justin shows at in New York? You know--the mustache--” Ted gestures dramatically around face, “the one we met last summer at his solo show?”
“Yeah?” Blake turns the car into the parking garage under his and Ted’s shared apartment.
“He offered Justin a chance to curate a small group show for emerging artists. Justin was really excited about it but it turned into some sort of power struggle--a big disappoint. It seemed Nick was more using Justin’s name then actually letting him curate. He complained to Brian and…”
“And Brian decides to build a fucking art gallery?” Blake laughs as he kills the ignition. “I mean, that is seriously over the top.”
“He will say it’s just a good investment--which trust me, as he accountant it totally is not. Or he will make it seem like Justin is the one doing him some huge favor.
"But, it’s something Justin wants to do and that could also expand his career options and is conveniently located three blocks from where Brian’s dick sleeps.”
“Is he trying to manipulate him back?”
“No. It’s more liking he will buy it, fix it up, and then never tell him. I know for a fact that he bought Justin a fully equipped Mercedes SUV that he never even told him about that right now is sitting in that enormous mansion he bought him four years ago, which is still basically completely empty and..”
The apartment door clicks shut behind them and Blake it pushing Ted against it.
“Ted, I don’t really give a fuck about Brian’s house.”
Sometimes, for a brief moment Ted will catch a glimpse of the Blake he first met years and years ago at Babylon--young and giddy and feeling completely invisible--the one from before...well, before a lot of things happened. Before they both learned how truly and terribly vulnerable they both actually are.
He sees it now--Blake’s eyes sparkle and he smiles wide, kissing Ted like he fucking wants him. And, Ted goes back to feeling the same way he did that night as well, like he can’t believe that this is happening to him, Ted un-fuckable Schmidt.
It is hard to feel invisible and unwanted when he is being stripped naked and fucked into the bed he shares with the person he knows will come get him in the middle of the night when he needs it.
Laying under the covers in a post-coital bliss, Ted feels relaxed for the first time all day.
“Ugh. Fuck the diner and the art gallery. I am taking tomorrow off so we can do this all day.”
Blake laughs against his shoulder. “Tomorrow is Christmas. You already have it off, and despite what Brian and Justin and Emmett and who knows who else has done in that downstairs bathroom, I refuse to have sex at Debbie’s house.”
*
The next morning in the shower, Blake brings up the real reason he couldn’t sleep last night.
“Andrew called me again.”
“Blake, I said I would think about it and I…”
“It’s been two weeks, Ted, and Andrew needs a sponsor now. You have been sober five years. You have done incredibly well, Ted. Everyone at group looks up to you. You are ready. I know you are. Those guys look at how far you have come and they admire you. You have a lot to offer someone like Andrew, who is just starting out.”
Ted scoffs. There is no way anyone looks at him and thinks ‘Yes. There is a role model. That is what I want to be.’ “No. You are good at this stuff. You know what to say and people listen to you. I don’t think I can be that person.”
Blake wraps a towel around Ted’s shoulders. “Ted, please..”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Ted ducks out of the shower and into the bedroom, leaving Blake dripping water onto the bathroom floor.
*
Ted swears that as they turn the corner, the entire neighborhood smells like Debbie’s lasagna. He knows his jacket will smell faintly of meatballs even after he has it dry cleaned--it’s part of the Novotny Family Holiday experience--an experience Blake is now fully entrenched in.
“Aww. Look at you gorgeous lovebirds.” Debbie greets them with jingling earrings and and hugs that hold tight and strong. She pats Blake on his cheeks with a slight pinch.
Emmett is already seated at the kitchen table next to a tall, hot, and heavily accented Italian man he introduces as Filippo. He explains that the two met while Emmett was filming a segment in Crete for his new travel channel series, Gay Holiday. Emmett was working, Filippo was sight seeing and then they were fucking. Travel guide Emmett highly recommends the Greek Isles--5 out of 5 golden thongs.
Michael and Ben are in the living room in the middle of an elaborate wrapping paper tube and cardboard box fort city--new toys from Santa abandoned for the creative use of their packaging. Gus, JR, and Ben and Michael’s newly adopted two-year-old Beth Anne’s laughter can be heard in waves over Emmett’s tale of Paris at night and Debbie yelling at Justin to take the bread out of the oven. Lindsay and Melanie are talking privately while jointly stirring something on the stove that Ted is afraid to try but health-freaks Ben and Blake will likely love.
Hunter is at college in London as part of a study abroad program, but the stack of pictures on the kitchen table is almost enough that he is not completely missed.
Brian is late, but he brings Debbie a bottle of the good wine and a bag of the good weed.
After dinner, Brian pulls Ted aside and hands him a small envelope.
“Merry Christmas, Theodore.”
Inside is a Christmas bonus so huge that Ted chokes on his apple pie.
“After you close the deal on the diner, go somewhere surrounded by the ocean and fuck your motivational speaker in paradise.”
“Blake’s a drug abuse counselor.”
Brian says “I don’t care” and eats a bite of Justin’s vanilla ice cream. Ted has worked with Brian long enough now to hear the “Thank you” hidden somewhere in there.
He heads down the hall to the downstairs bathroom to take a piss, but he's interrupted mid stream when Blake slips through the door and into the too small space.
“I thought you didn’t want to fuck in here.”
Blake face his tight and his eyes are swimming.
“What?--”
“I have to go. Kevin--from the center--He relapsed and overdosed. He’s at county. I… It’s….It’s Christmas, stay here with your friends. I’ll call a cab…”
Ted drives Blake to the hospital and sits next to him silently in the waiting room.
He cannot stop thinking about other hospital rooms and other overdoses and downward spirals and complete fuck-ups and second chances. His hands shake in his lap, but when Blake’s tears finally spill over, Ted finds he is able to hold them steady against Blake’s back.
The sun rises, Kevin makes it through the night, and for the rest of the week Ted comes home on time.
*
The hot guy in the tight-as-fuck grey tank plows through Ted’s shoulder like he doesn’t exist, spilling some sort of alcohol onto his wrist and sleeve. A sigh starts to form in the back of his throat (because, of course, no one sees Ted...) but, the slight pressing of a hand low on his back, urging him to continue towards the bar turns his frustration into a quiet laugh.
It’s New Year’s at Woody’s, and it’s so crowded he can barely move. In front of him Emmett is lit up like fucking fireworks--arms thrown out into the air calling his name... “Baby!! You’re herrrreee!” Even Brian is tilting his glass ever so slightly in toast. And, while he can’t see behind him he can feel the warmth of Blake against him.
A bar full of strangers might overlook him, but, right now, Ted does not feel invisible.
As they squeeze into a tiny space between the bar and where Brian is starting to half dance, half dry hump Justin, Emmett starts talking loudly into Ted’s ear about how Filippo is on a plane back to Europe and this is Hugo (who’s cock is HUGE) and…
Ted slips his arm around Blake. “Call Andrew. I can take a long lunch on Monday and meet him for coffee.”
Blake smiles into his soda water and squeezes Ted’s finger gently where they rest on his belt loop.
“And Ted,” says Emmett bouncing off the bar stool. “If only you could see this man’s balls.”