ted spankoffski.

It was rare that things were said to cause Emma to blush. However, Ted's warning had her cheeks flushing pink and a soft laugh leaving her lips. She was unable to hide the grin that stretched across her lips, gaze dipping for a moment before she spotted his extended hand.

Brown eyes climbed their way back up to him, and her grin softened. "You warn me like that's a bad thing, you know," she murmured as she took his hand and stood. The food could be worried about later. Instead, she released his hand only to wrap her arms and draw him in close enough to steal a soft kiss before she drew back and gave a little hop as she lifted a leg to be picked up. Giggles sounded as her legs wrapped around his waist, softening into a hum before she gave him another slow, sweet kiss.

The kiss to his lips was dangerously soft and he melted into it, hands easily sliding around to her back only to smile at her when she drew back. His hand near the leg that lifted dropped to grab under her thigh, pulling her up to get her against him. He kept the hand on her leg, other sliding to wrap his arm around her back so to keep her there. Their lips met again and he found himself tilting into it momentarily before breaking away, this time to focus on walking them back towards the bedroom. Didn't take long to get down the hallways and to it-- but rather than immediately drop her onto the bed he stepped them close to a wall and pressed her to it. His arm around her back slid away to slip his hand down, groping at her ass while his hand on her thigh gave a warm squeeze.

His mouth moves from hers to her cheek then jaw and down to her neck. The presses are warm and wanton, teasing and slow in press. He can't help the way he ghosts up to her ear, whispering in the closeness, "Gotta be careful with all this, might get used to the idea of seeing you more..."

Henry is quiet as Ted reveals the details of his New Years. Or, well -- as much as he knew Henry would listen to, of course. Not that he truly cared about the somewhat unsavory parts of Ted's personal life -- he knew that Ted's list of friends was much shorter than his list of lovers. However, Henry couldn't often offer actual advice. As a man out of play for quite some time, Henry's instincts were somewhat failing, despite his best efforts. (He has yet to lead Ted astray so far, at the very least. He'll take the win.)

The words are... surprising, honestly. People don't usually stay when Ted recalls his nights on the town. He's sure it shows on his face, too -- brows raise high on his forehead, and Henry turns, leans back to face his friend head on. "Two days?" He offers, the corner of his mouth tugging into a slight smirk. "I'd say that's an improvement from a bored housewife," he tacks on. (No ill will meant, of course. Ted just needed better taste in partners. And more self worth.)

Tapping the countertop, he tilts his head in thought. "Perhaps this is a new chance for you, Theodore. Maybe this is something to look forward to in the future." Pausing, he takes a swig from his drink. "Do you have plans to see her again?"

He knew Hidgens was going to be shocked to hear the chick stayed beyond a round of sex. He wasn't someone that usually had full sleepovers or even day long dates, but here he was switching it up. Maybe his luck was finally coming changing or there was something to this Emma. Maybe she really did like him... or was that too crazy of a thought to have so soon into whatever this was. If there was even a whatever to it. He hadn't really confirmed another "date" or seeing each other. Hell! He'd even forgotten to get her phone number like some fucking amateur. Gah, dumbass.

But despite all those shaky and unsure thoughts, Ted knew Hidgens was right. It was definitely an improvement. Going from housewives that are unavailable and woman that he probably shouldn't stick it into-- this was like striking gold. He was aware of that. Very aware of it. And as his friend tells him that this could be a new chance for him, something to look forward to... Ted's inclined to agree. He wants it to be something he looks forward to, wants to see her again and at the question he nearly nods. It takes almost a split second too long to stop his head from bobbing enthusiastically.

"I want to," he states easily, sighing softly and shifting with a small furrow of his brow, "but, uh, I don't have her number and I definitely didn't catch her at Beanie's this morning when I went in. So I... I'm going to go tomorrow and hope she's there. I generally stick to weekday visits at Beanie's but... you know, I think this could be worth it if her wink before she left me meant anything at all."

Pete looks up, meets Ted's gaze with his own. For a second, he's quiet -- he has to think, honestly. Can both options be true? Because, yes, it is uncomfortable to sit in front of Soloman Lauter at forced family dinners and pretend that everything is normal between them. The man is terrifying, and Pete can't imagine that being around the boy who's actively dating your daughter makes it any better. He feels like a freeloader sometimes, despite how deeply he feels for Stephanie.

Still, it's the second part that has him nodding. "No one should have that much money in a small town," he explains, head shaking. "That house is too big for two people -- trust me. And it looks haunted as shit." Shivering, he brings his hands to his temples, rubbing slow careful circles into the side of his head. Soothing. "Be lucky you don't have to deal with that shit. The longer we're together, the more I think he's plotting my demise. The way he looks at me," Pete pauses, shoulders shuddering. "Intimidating, man."

Ted was inclined to agree as his brother expressed his thoughts, frown worming to his own features. Mayor Lauter was a businessman at the end of the day, but he was also very wealthy and wealth like that wasn't rare in Hatchetfield... but it was certainly not something to ignore. He knew a few others who had money, but he knew better than to pry into where all that came from. Linda was the only person he knew was rich off her husband's business and practice-- rich in a way that seemed criminal, but wasn't.

"I don't know, Pete, maybe just break up with her then," he's half joking. Half. He shrugs a shoulder and takes another drink of his beer only to find it empty. Gah. He frowns more and pushes off the wall he's leaning into in order to turn towards the kitchen, "You wanna beer while you think on it?"

Paul is quiet as Ted -- well, while he does Ted things. There's a flash of panic behind his eyes before a brief sigh. The groan is stifled as his hands tap against each other rhythmically, and Paul can't do much of anything that's not a soft nod. "Well, if it wasn't you," he presses on, "I guess I'll keep asking around. There's too many busy bodies that work here," he comments, eyes flicking around the room. (For a second, Melissa catches his gaze, and Paul turns away to focus on Ted once more.)

His words are... expected, to say the least, and Paul's smile is uncomfortable. "I guess you could say that," he speaks, trying his best to avoid the topic altogether. (Paul and Emma have always been friends. While he's a man with eyes that can admit she is good looking, he's never felt that pull to her, really. It's strange to think about, and his nose wrinkles as he gets lost in thought for just a moment.) "But, um -- thank you, I guess, for being honest with me," he adds on, a strange sense of relief settling in his chest. "I just -- I wanted to set the record straight. I don't owe anyone any sort of... explanation, of course, but -- for my own sake. For my sanity."

He knows Paul isn't on the same blunt level as Ted, but he often wishes the other would find humor or understanding in what's being said. Yes, it's a bit abrasive, but... come on. Was he wrong? He knew that's exactly what Emma was and though Paul may not... he could humor Ted a little. He doesn't and Ted has to stop the roll of his eyes as Paul brushes over it and moves on. He thanks Ted, but even that feels off. He tries not to think too much about the logistics on whether he's friends with Paul. He likes the idea of calling the other his best friend, but it often feels like Paul tolerates him. Perhaps that's why Ted is often in his business... that delusional thought of being what everyone needs in their life. He has a place in Paul's... he just needed Paul to see that. Though, right now, Ted was seeing through that delusion of his own making.

"Yeah, yeah," Ted agrees with a small nod of his head, hand rubbing at his thigh and other knocking his knuckles gently against his armrest, "Guess it's good to know that too," Ted can't help saying, mouth suddenly operating without thought, "makes it way easier and less awkward to make every move possible on her." He chuckles ( a nervous undertone to it, ) "She's hot, Paul," Ted looks at him, prideful grin on his face as if he already knows that beyond the obvious, "like really fuckin' hot."

she couldn't stop the " oh my god " that fell from her lips around a laugh, her gaze falling with a grin and a shake of her shoulders from the chuckle. he wasn't wrong, but he just . . . had his own unique way with words. a bluntness and crassness about them that was so individually ted. she could say he was no bullshit, which she did admire.

her grin softened a little at the bump of his foot against her calf, eyes lifting to catch his gaze over his cup. " i might need you to carry me to bed after work and this lunch, " she teased with a snort, resigning by placing her wadded up napkin into her container. " and i can't promise i won't pass out when i hit the mattress . . . fair warning. "

He grins proudly at her little laugh. He knows he's pushy and blunt about his thoughts, but she seems to find humor in them. She seems to see through them and understand them differently than others. He comes off as sleazy, creepy, and too much... but when it's directed at one person who actually seems to want him? It has more passion, desire, and want from it. He ducks his head then lifts it as she mentions him carrying her to bed. He quirks a brow and finds a laugh of his own escaping him.

"Look," he begins with a shift of his chair back, standing as he continues, "I can carry you and lay you down, but I can't promise I don't crawl all over you and start exploring with my lips." He's at her side when he finishes speaking, hand offering her way for her to take, "So how about you climb your way up here and we make our way back there, hm?"

Ah. There it is. Ted's words are not surprising to Henry -- being friends with someone like Ted Spankoffski means being subjected to his perverted, often times too detailed, stories. He'd been here for the highs and lows of Ted's sex life -- from Charlotte, the woman at CCRP, to Linda Monroe of all people. Truly, Ted's little black book was a Hatchetfield marvel.

He smiles with amusement from behind the rim of his glass, and Henry's head shakes softly with something akin to relief. "Quite the adventure for 2026," he teases, legs crossing beneath the bar top. "I don't think I've yet heard the term grabbed by the dick in a literal sense," he adds, only slightly impressed.

Henry's quiet for a moment before he nods, turns towards his friends. A hand comes up to clap Ted on the shoulder, as if to say I'm proud of you. "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself," he admits, smile a little sincere. It seems odd to congratulate someone on the simple act of having sex, but after years of friendship, Henry has learned that Ted thrives on positive affirmations. Brow raised, he can't help but press further. "And what does the future hold, hmm? Is this another... holiday tryst for you, Theodore?"

"Me neither," he murmured at the mention of the term usually used for just expression. Prior to that moment he'd never actually thought it was a real thing. Sure, yes, he's fucked and been fucked... but not like that. Not in the way Emma had dragged him into that room and made him feel. She had done something to him that wasn't like any of his other situationships. Charlotte... Linda... the few others that came and went when they felt like it. None of them had ever done whatever happened to him in that room and the night that followed... or the day. Emma had given Ted time and attention he was starved for.

i'm glad you enjoyed yourself.

Ted let out a small laugh and thank you at the words joined by the hand on his shoulder. He knew that was as close to being told good for him that he was going to get. He was always sharing his life openly with Hidgens and Ted was aware it wasn't always what the older man wanted to hear, but who else did Ted have? No one else was as willing to listen to him or offer an ear... or advice. And though Ted acted like he didn't want that advice? He enjoyed getting it. Meant someone cared.

The question that follows makes him pause, eyes falling to the whiskey placed in front of him by a bartender who knew him too well. He smiles somewhat to himself and answers almost quietly as if he's afraid to speak it into the universe, "I think it could be a bit more than just that," he brings his eyes up, looking to Henry, "I don't wanna speak too much on it and jinx the situation, but... she, uh, she spent the night with me and the whole next day." A small laugh as he sighs, "She was unbelievable and quite the surprise."

her lips twisted into a smirk at his playful warning. it was easy with ted. yes, upon first impression, he was an easy guy to get into bed with. but that wasn't where it stopped. she had learned that it was easy to melt into him, to laugh between kisses, to fall apart in heated fits of moans, to talk to him about whatever came to mind, to fit flirty banter in between bites of take out. was this what it was supposed to be like?

" wouldn't be the first time i made a move on you, " she mused with a smirk as she brought her drink to her lips for a sip. " and if i recall, you've never complained . . . "

Ted chuckles with a slight waggle of his brows, "I don't think complaining is in my vocabulary when it comes with getting grabbed by the dick and immediately fucked afterwards." The blunt statement makes him grin as he shifts against his chair, settling further into it and bumping his leg against her foot that had brushed his calf. He reaches out for his own drink and brings it up so to take a slow sip, eyes never leaving hers as if tempting her and trying her to say or do something else. Granted he's sure that if she does he may forgo the food entirely.

Ted isn't sure what's come over him with this, but he likes it. He likes that there seems to be this continued want to do things with him... things beyond the sex. Not that he would really fully complain if it was just sex... but fuck was this nice. Eating together. Talking. Laughing. Teasing. He was enjoying it almost as much as he enjoyed the fucking part. It felt like, for once, he was being picked for more than his easy sleaziness.

Now his words fall on deaf ears. Honestly, Pete doesn't care about Ted's sex life. He knows his brother is... promiscuous, to say the least, but it's never been his problem. Until he was locked out of his own home, of course. And sure, he could've gone to visit his Mom, but the questions that would arise wouldn't have been worth it. (He could stand to walk more, anyways. Or do anything remotely athletic.)

"Who said I want a mustache?" He shoots back, brow raised towards his brother. Sighing, his ankles cross (and dangle slightly off the side of the couch). "And we don't -- don't say it like that, Christ," he tacks on, exhaustion evident in his tone. "We did get to spend New Years Eve together, for the record. And not that it's any of your business but --," he trails off, hands flailing, "things happened, okay? Her Dad just came home and I had to sneak out before he killed me. I don't know if you know this," he head turns, tilts so he can meet Ted's gaze, "but the Mayor is even scarier in person."

Ted rolls his eyes at the question about wanting a mustache. Sure. He ignores it to listen to what else is said, snorting a short laugh and taking another sip of his beer. things happened, okay? Another short laugh and he has to bite his tongue from saying what's on his mind about that wording. How prudish. How boring. He wanted to say something about he was glad to hear Pete's microdick worked when he wanted it to. Always knew his brother would be a grower instead of a shower. Was that weird? That was weird.

He quirks an eyebrow at the mention of the mayor being scarier in person, "Yeah?" He thinks on it a moment then shifts to fold his arms across his chest, hand still holding his beer bottle, "Like... the type of scary that would cut off your dick if he knew you were fucking his daughter? Or the type of scary that would send our family spiraling into absolutely nothing because of the power this guy has?" A little too on the head, don't you think?

He messes up her name, and for a moment, Paul thinks this conversation is over. However, the clarification that Ted did know who Paul was talking about has him nodding his head slowly. His hands begin to rub together -- an anxious habit he's had since he was a kid -- and Paul's lips twist into a grimace. (He can't believe he's about to ask Ted Spankoffski for advice, but right now? He's at the end of his rope.)

"Yeah! Yeah. Emma," he validates. "I -- good. That's good. I'm glad she got to meet some of my co-workers. Honestly, I was a little afraid to bring anyone -- I didn't want anyone to get the wrong idea about her and I." His words trail off into an awkward laugh, and Paul looks at Ted, eyes wide and only a little manic as he speaks. "We're friends. Just friends. And I think... someone at the party maybe put it into her head that I wanted to be... more than that? When I do not." It's said a little too resolutely, and Paul backtracks. "Not that I don't think she's attractive." Now his foot's in his mouth. Gesturing, Paul's hands cross in front of him, as if to wipe the conversation clean.

"What I'm trying to say," he presses on, "is that -- I'm trying to track down the source of the rumor. So I can tell them the truth, and... tell them off." (Or, well -- as much as someone like Paul Matthews can tell someone off.)

We're friends. Just friends.

The words make Ted's eyebrows lift without thought, slight confusion and surprise marking up his expression. He was quick to mask it though as Paul continued with his thoughts. How someone at the party got that skewed and made it seem there was more there. There wasn't. Not that he didn't think Emma was attractive-- Ted had to bite his tongue from saying something about that. Had to fight the way he wanted to murmur a quiet you have no idea, but fought it back. For once. Instead he waits for Paul to finish, waiting for him to explain his thoughts further in how he's trying to track down the source of the rumor. Ted gives a shrug, unhelpful in motion as his lips tip downward then back up into a casual grin, "Can't say I know anything about that. Only really talked to her some that night." Lies. Again, for once he was able to keep his mouth shut.

Well... "But I can definitely see why someone may start that rumor," he lifts a hand to rub at his jaw and chin, eyes going somewhere as he continues, "She is very attractive and anyone would be crazy not to want to pursue that perky little number." He winks at Paul, eyes shining after and mouth dazzling with a cheeky grin, "She's got this... grab you by the balls and make you want her thing going on." Taking back all that for once stuff after that one.

she didn't know what this was or what it was going to be. frankly, if she ever thought about the future too much, it threatened to swallow her whole. it had been that way when she was a kid. a teenager. now as an adult. she had experienced so much young and unreasonable loss around her that it felt like some curse to plan too far ahead. to get too attached. so, she lived life in the present, even if it was to a fault.

a soft smile tugged at her lips as she listened to him let out how he felt about that night and the day that followed. " i like the sound of that. shedding the bullshit and having fun, " she hummed in agreement, a spark in her eyes as she gazed over at him. her leg folded from itself and her foot gently brushed against his calf in doing so.

Her assurance and agreement that she liked it made him smile, dipping his head then lifting it to look at her. He watched her shift and felt the brush of her foot, the subtle touch sending a near shiver down his spine. He bit down on his tongue to fight back the eager words that wanted to leave him, the automatic response that she didn't need to hear. Again, no bullshit. Just them and whatever came from it, but he wouldn't be Ted if he didn't say something in response to a gesture she may have not intended, "Careful there. Might get the wrong idea and think you're making a move on me after that little heart to heart."

He smirks playful, teasing her with the intent of his words. He knows how the afternoon may go, but he doesn't know when or how things will unfold. Hell, she isn't even done eating yet. Neither is he. But Ted would forgo food in a heartbeat if it meant whatever dessert she offered between her legs. Ah, yes, there he was. The horndog of Hatchetfield.

there's a softness that falls upon her expression as her brow lightly furrows. his confession? it's just as vulnerable, if not more. it's not dripping with swagger or some line. it's . . . real. just as real as it had felt laying in bed with him and talking about their biggest desires. she hadn't really gotten into her big dreams with anyone before. but to vocalize them? and to hear his support? it felt nice. and in this moment, seeing him drop that mask again?

" i like talking to you about real things, " she assured gently, a soft smile tugging at the corner of her lips. " i like you when you're just . . . i don't know, being real? dropping the bullshit? you're not the only one guilty of it, trust me. we all have our bullshit we try to hide behind. "

she realized she might be rambling and released a quiet laugh, exhaling it as a form of a sigh. " i've really liked getting to know you, ted. "

i've really liked getting to know you, ted.

He'd already felt like his heart was racing listening to her speak about liking him when he's real. When the act is dropped and the bullshit is gone. Part of him wants to tell her that there isn't an act, that he is just this and that he's a guy who thinks with his dick more than his head... but that would ixnay the whole heart part and, well, Ted did think with that. It's what got him to this point that he had so much bullshit to show for. His heart was the reason he hid behind it all and lived in his delusions. But she wasn't ready to hear all that and Ted wasn't ready to share all of it, so he bit his tongue and dipped his gaze briefly. He let the words settle between them... maybe for too long.

"I enjoyed the time we spent together," he finally says, eyes lifting back to her and hand moving to put his taco down. He grabs a napkin to wipe his hands then continues, crumpling the item, "That night was... something else and the next day was something new to me, but I really liked it." He's being vulnerable and a piece of him wants to run, wants to get up and bolt right out the door... but another piece of him? A piece that's desperate for affection and attention... that piece speaks instead, "I guess, coming to see you today, was my way of trying to see if we could do that again. Just... shed the bullshit and have fun."

when emma had watched ted pull out the three tacos with chips and guac, she had let out a little laugh. it was her perfect order, despite only telling him she wanted tacos and the salsa verde hot sauce. she kept the chips and guac in between them as an offering, snacking on a bite in between bites of her taco. she even used a chip as a vehicle to scoop some guac into her first taco that she had just cleared.

his question caused her to release another soft laugh as she gazed across the table at him. " i was just thanking you for the tacos, " she hummed, pausing for a moment to debate how vulnerable she wanted to be. " this . . . is really nice. i like this, you know . . . just hanging out and talking with you . . . "

Ted felt his heart jump in his chest as she speaks forwardly and openly. It wasn't the first time she had in his presence, not after the day they spent just hanging around in his room talking between eating and having sex. It had truly been one of the better days of Ted's last several years, well.. since Jenny specifically. It was sad he knew that, sad that he was aware he's been in misery since. He sometimes found himself feeling relaxed in Charlotte's presence, but even then conversation would always fall back to Sam and her thoughts about her husband. But even still, it had felt oddly different and far better in Emma's presence... sure, yeah, she'd arrived with Paul, but it was clear by her grabbing him at the refreshment table she wasn't committed to whatever that was. Did it mean he wondered if there was still something? Sure, but this... this moment and their continued flirting? It felt different than her being committed to someone and just using him.

"Can't say I do it often," Ted admits almost sadly and easily, eyes dropping to the taco in his hand briefly then lifting back to her, "Can't say I really get told that either." Was that too much misery for the conversation? Too honest? He felt his chest tighten around his pounding heart and he clears his throat, trying to talk over that, "I just mean... there isn't much talking that comes with knowing me in a physical sense. Too busy with other activities, you know?"

The words fall on half listening ears -- Pete is tired, the kind that you feel in your bones. He'd spent the better part of his holiday wandering around various parts of Hatchetfield, and not by choice. He knew this was part of the cost of living with Ted. He was an adult, after all, and he was allowed to do adult things. Hell, Pete was already eighteen himself, capable of making his own decisions.

Turning, he squints in the direction of Ted's voice. "I guess," he starts. "Could've done without the extra thousand or so steps, according to my watch," he adds, a little spite in his tone. "But, hey -- who needs a New Year gym membership when you've got downtown Hatchetfield, right?" Sighing, he turns to lay on his back. His hands fold to rest atop his stomach, and his eyes close, trying to enjoy the notion of being home for the first time in a few days. "I don't need to ask you about your holiday," he says, head shaking. "Next time you wanna have spontaneous New Year sex, I need more warning than the day of. Had to spend half my allowance at Pizza Pete's just to kill time."

i guess.

Ted rolls his eyes immediately at the monotone answer into something a little more backed by spite. He snorts and brings his beer up to take another swig, listening as Pete cracks a joke then shifts around until he's laying on his back. He waits a beat knowing there's about to be more said to him and he has to stop the scoff that wants to leave him. Instead he chuckles and shakes his head before taking another drink, humming at first to indicate he had something to respond with. He knew Pete was annoyed about the whole situation. Originally it was just the night and then when this morning rolled around he made it clear to Pete he probably didn't want to come back to the apartment until later. Hell, Emma had only left about two hours ago maybe less than that.

"Yeah, well," Ted begins, eyes on his beer bottle as he checks how much is left in it rather than looking at Pete, "I had no damn clue my night would extend into today and I wasn't about to deny what I was being offered." He flicks his eyes to Pete, head turning forward fully to look at his brother. He lifts the bottle in his hand to point the end of it towards the younger, "Maybe one day you'll understand what that's like-- when you're older, wiser, and actually have a mustache." He's fighting back a grin of amusement, "Not my fault you didn't get a chance to fool around all day with your super rich girlfriend."

The conversation he's met with isn't surprising, to say the least. As Ted speaks, Paul's head tilts in thought -- did Ted arrive with someone? He didn't remember seeing anyone in tow when Ted arrived. Though, that's not to say someone couldn't have shown up at a later point. Honestly, after Paul lost Emma, he didn't stick around for too long. His apartment was much better company than a party full of people he semi-tolerated, and mostly because he was paid to do so.

So, with a tight lipped smile, he nods. "I can only imagine," he states, the words slightly sarcastic. (Though Ted must be used to it by now -- Paul is never really interested in his... adult adventures, so to speak.) Shifting, he presses on. "I, um -- yeah, it was okay," he agrees evenly. "Kind of quiet, honestly, but that's all right. That's what I prefer, anyways." He trails off into awkward laughter, and Paul lets the silence hang for another moment or two before he asks, "Did -- um, did you get to meet my friend? At the party?"

He knew Paul's answer was going to be something boring to a degree. Okay, maybe boring was a harsh word to use, but could you blame him? Compared to his night it was the most boring thing to hear. Quiet. Preferred quiet at that. He had to fight the way he wanted to roll his eyes, instead humming a sound of approval and understanding with a forced grin. He didn't want to seem like he wasn't interested in talking to Paul, but he felt anxious and a bit off with the situation. He knew something Paul didn't and he wasn't too sure if Emma had talked to him yet or not--

did you get to meet my friend? at the party?

Ted's got a terrible poker face and it's showing as he stares at Paul, eyes a bit wide and lips parted as if he was ready to say no. He doesn't though because he knows if he tries to lie about something so simple as meeting the woman it'd be seen through. So he clears his throat and shifts a bit in his chair, leaning back and resting his arms on his rests in order to appear far more casual than how tense he'd suddenly felt, "Erica, right?" He pauses then lifts a hand to snap fingers, shaking his head, "No, Emma. It was definitely Emma." He smiles, casually of course, "Yeah, got a chance to meet her at the, uh, punch bowl." Not a complete lie to the whole truth there.

there was a little glint in emma's eyes as she took the five and cashed out his order. she gave her head a shake as it lowered, a smirk on her lips and a blush to her cheeks as she tossed his receipt and put what change there was in the tip jar. at least, he didn't press for a song, huh?

she left beanie's a few minutes after noon and headed home right after, her stomach growling for the tacos she had been texting ted about. she had just untied the black ribbon around her neck and had taken out her claw clip when ted had arrived. she sighed audibly with relief as she let him inside, the two jumping right into their lunch together.

she was sitting with her legs folded at the table, not caring a bit about manners as she dug into her tacos. green hot sauce dripped down the side of her hand, and she brought it up to her mouth to lap it up mid-bite. " you're a godsend for these tacos, by the way. i was daydreaming about them after we texted, " she confessed with a quiet chuckle, taking the last bite before she grabbed a napkin to wipe her hands and mouth off.

Ted went back home after he got his coffee, settling in on his couch to watch some college football game. He used that time to text Emma between the time she had to answer and managed to snag plans with her that included her address and that she wanted food. Manageable. He could do that. He knew a bit already from their previous day she was a lover of food. They'd had pizza for lunch and pasta for dinner-- both which she ate plenty of despite being so small. It had been impressive and also humorous. He had made a comment about it and she'd just laughed telling her she didn't play around when it came to food. And he could respect that. He wound up getting her three tacos and some chips with guacamole while he settled on two for himself before showing up a little after noon at hers.

Ted sat across from her at her table, dark eyes flicking away from the taco he'd folded to lift in order to look at her. He wanted to ensure her first few bites were good and was instead greeted with the sight of her licking up the side of her hand. Her tongue rolled against skin to lick away a runaway dribble of sauce and it sent a sharp chill through him, darting and threatening to set fire to his groin. He blinked, lips parted a moment to breathe slowly while she spoke and worked to finish her first taco. Unfortunately for her, Ted was a simple man with nothing else to think about even if he was hungry...

It dawned him after a moment of staring though that she'd said something. He blinked and shook his head, cleared his throat and spoke with quiet confusion, "What'd you say? Sorry... I was... somewhere else." He tore his gaze away in order to focus on taking a bite of his own taco.

who: henry and ted ( @sleazeballtm ) where: the birdhouse

Another night, another drink. Henry often finds himself in places like this at the end of his day, saddled up at the bar, a glass of whiskey in his hand. He generally keeps the same company, too – a turn to his right reveals Ted Spankoffski. There’s an odd kinship between the two of them – while Henry was content to drink alone most nights, the other man would always be in the same area, at the same time. Eventually, the distance between their stools closed, and now, they’re good friends. One could even say best friends.

Taking a sip from his drink, Henry turns, examines Ted with keen eyes. “You look happier than usual,” he states. The words could be seen as offensive, perhaps even mean to most people, but not between them. Henry had truly seen Ted at his lowest, and currently, the man is almost beaming with content. “I take it your New Year’s was plenty enjoyable,” he adds on, a clear indication in his tone as he smirks behind the rim of his glass.

Ted didn't actually have a lot of friends. Or really any-- except one, there was one he knew he could call friend. Sure, yes, he would refer to Paul or even Bill (rarely) as his friend, but as delusional as he was... he knew that beyond seeing them at work there was never a reason they seemed to care to see him. He liked Paul and wanted to be the guy's best friend, but... there was a disconnect and he was a dumbass, through and through, but he knew better. He knew if he really wanted to try that he just had to ask Paul to hangout... but he was afraid of the rejection, so he lived in his delusion that they were friends who saw each other enough through work. And well, after a strange conversation this morning with the guy and a weirder latter half of the day... Ted was almost certain Paul knew his Holiday Party date had left with Ted. So much for being even work friends, right?

Still, Ted doesn't regret his time. He doesn't regret following Emma into the copier room or onto the elevator, and he certainly didn't regret the entire next day spent just getting lost in her. It had bled into today and Ted was trying to run off of that rather than think about the implications of it with Paul. Hell, he'd been trying to decide if he should try going to Beanie's again tomorrow morning and seeing if Emma was working. He wanted to see her again, wanted to get her number, wanted to confirm that her flirty see you around truly meant she'd see him again.

you look happier than usual.

The words smack Ted upside the back of his head and he nearly jumps remembering Hidgens is sat beside him. He turns his head to look at the man, blinking a moment as if to catch up. i take it your new year's was plenty enjoyable. The comment makes Ted's lips twitch into a smile, chuckling a little and giving a nonchalant shrug as if it were nothing... but Ted wasn't a very nonchalant kind of guy. In fact... "Oh, it was very enjoyable," he shines his grin at Hidgens, "I, uh, took this very sexy and perky number back to my place after she grabbed me by the dick and made me her new year's to do list in the copier room."