"Mmm," she hums softly. "That's nice." She's particularly tight in her shoulders, her neck, her lower back, and her legs from walking. "I know a little from med school, but not much. And it's been a long time."
He's also just given a lot of massages over the past decade especially. Practice makes perfect. (Some of them with a slightly different goal in mind, though that's not his intention for now.)
"Mmm, yeah. Let me know where it feels good, if I should go harder or softer, all that sort of thing," he says, starting to work on her lower back.
Ted obliges, using the heel of his hand to knead her muscles. And while her muscles are weak, at least he hasn't been given any reason to think she's particularly frail as a result (unlike him - who knows how a massage in certain areas might impact his still healing ribs). Though he's still maybe a little bit more careful than he would've been otherwise.
Even if it's not that kind of massage though, it still lets him touch her in an affectionate way, perform an act of service and make her feel good. So he's very happy to do it. Especially when she makes those humming noises.
Ted continues to work on her back, eventually moving to the shoulders and neck, spending extra time in the particularly stiff areas, getting some blood circulation going.
He's also glad to be able to use his body a little, since this way he's only using his upper body and won't put too much strain on his leg, and he's not doing anything that would mess with his ribs or lower back. So it's probably gonna for both if them.
Once he's worked on her shoulders for a bit, he leans down and plants ab affectionate kiss between her shoulder blades.
His hands are gentle and thoughtful and attentive, just like Ted himself. It's soothing and relaxing, and Joan closes her eyes and breathes deeply, letting her muscles just let go.
He massages her neck for a bit longer, before he finally sits back. "Alright, I think that's all I've got in me," he says, shaking and stretching his arms and hands.
Ted laughs. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to, sweetie," he answers genuinely.
He leans around and calls to the living room. "Hey, Sherlock?" He starts laying down next to Joan, resting an arm on her back comfortably, snuggling up a little bit.
"I think there is a distinct possibility it might happen regardless of our wishes," he answers, glancing over at Sherlock with a smile. He doesn't trust either of them to stay awake like this.
"Appreciate it," Ted agrees. And he very much does. He makes a mental note to thank Sherlock properly later.
He smiles at Joan and strokes her back a little bit with his thumb, but he resists being any more affectionate than that. She looks extremely comfortable and content right now, and that makes him happy.
Ted smiles warmly, and mouths "Love you," back. Even if he very recently napped, he too is getting very sleepy. On the plus side, if he gets a decent nap in now, he'll be able to more easily stay awake when Sherlock wants to sleep.
Eventually he assumes they'll feel safe enough in not constantly monitoring Joan's sleep, but he'll let them decide that, since he has no idea when it would be safe.
Joan is looking forward to not being watched constantly, just like she's looking forward to being able to do things on her own. Sherlock is looking forward to it as well, but more because it means he doesn't have to worry about her quite so much.
It's only a few more moments before Joan's blinks slow down enough that her eyes finally close and then don't open as she drifts off to sleep.
Ted drifts off soon after Joan, his hand resting on her back. It's not the most restful sleep ever - he has an anxious dream that involves running around trying to avoid people (including himself, but especially Joan) getting hurt, and mostly failing, or nearly failing.
It's not a full nightmare, and it doesn't wake him, but it leaves him feeling tense when he finally wakes up again. But at least he slept some.
"Mmm." She rubs her eyes. "I need to put on some actual clothes."
"Which of your outfits would you like?" Sherlock says, rising to go fetch clothes from 221B. "May I suggest the black and white shift with the beige cardigan?"
"That works. Thanks."
Sherlock heads out and Joan turns to Ted.
"I can't count the number of times he's woken me up with an outfit in hand to speed things along." She smiles. "How are you doing?"
He shakes his head a little. "I'm sure you can imagine," he says and smiles softly. Honestly it would be weird if he didn't occasionally have bad dreams with everything that's going on. But it's not something he wants to dwell on.
"It helps waking up next to you though," he adds, his smile coming a bit easier as he leans over to give her a kiss.
She kisses him back, touching his cheek. When he pulls back she reaches up to gently brush his hair back from his forehead. Then her eyes widen a bit and she touches her own hair, still in Ted's braids.
"Did the braids get messed up while I was sleeping?"
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theodorelasso) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
trashchildren2021-06-24 07:33 pm
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"Mmm, yeah. Let me know where it feels good, if I should go harder or softer, all that sort of thing," he says, starting to work on her lower back.
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"Mmm," she responds. "A little harder right there..."
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Even if it's not that kind of massage though, it still lets him touch her in an affectionate way, perform an act of service and make her feel good. So he's very happy to do it. Especially when she makes those humming noises.
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"Just like that," she murmurs.
She's certainly not frail, despite her weakness, and she's glad Ted isn't treating her with kid gloves.
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He's also glad to be able to use his body a little, since this way he's only using his upper body and won't put too much strain on his leg, and he's not doing anything that would mess with his ribs or lower back. So it's probably gonna for both if them.
Once he's worked on her shoulders for a bit, he leans down and plants ab affectionate kiss between her shoulder blades.
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She smiles at that kiss, feeling so loved.
"Thank you," she murmurs.
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He massages her neck for a bit longer, before he finally sits back. "Alright, I think that's all I've got in me," he says, shaking and stretching his arms and hands.
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Then thinks about it some more.
Then thinks about it again.
"Do I have to move?" she asks, so extremely comfortable her muscles are like very happy jelly.
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He leans around and calls to the living room. "Hey, Sherlock?" He starts laying down next to Joan, resting an arm on her back comfortably, snuggling up a little bit.
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She turns her head so she and Ted can be face to face as he snuggles in, and smiles at him with warmth and fondness.
Sherlock enters the room to see them lying together, and somehow manages to bite back a comment about exhibitionism. "I take it you wish to sleep?"
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"Thank you, Sherlock," Joan says without moving her head.
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He smiles at Joan and strokes her back a little bit with his thumb, but he resists being any more affectionate than that. She looks extremely comfortable and content right now, and that makes him happy.
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"Love you," she mouths silently, mindful of Sherlock.
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Eventually he assumes they'll feel safe enough in not constantly monitoring Joan's sleep, but he'll let them decide that, since he has no idea when it would be safe.
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It's only a few more moments before Joan's blinks slow down enough that her eyes finally close and then don't open as she drifts off to sleep.
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It's not a full nightmare, and it doesn't wake him, but it leaves him feeling tense when he finally wakes up again. But at least he slept some.
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"Hey." She frowns faintly. "What time were Keeley and Roy coming over?"
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"Mmm. Soonish. I told them I was gonna let them know when we were ready for them," he answers.
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"Which of your outfits would you like?" Sherlock says, rising to go fetch clothes from 221B. "May I suggest the black and white shift with the beige cardigan?"
"That works. Thanks."
Sherlock heads out and Joan turns to Ted.
"I can't count the number of times he's woken me up with an outfit in hand to speed things along." She smiles. "How are you doing?"
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"Mmmm," he answers, frowning softly. "Bad dreams," he admits, rubbing at his chest a little. Still feels like there's a knot in there.
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She sees him rubbing his chest, and wonders if he's feeling a tightness there, and if that's a precursor to his panic attacks.
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"It helps waking up next to you though," he adds, his smile coming a bit easier as he leans over to give her a kiss.
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"Did the braids get messed up while I was sleeping?"
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