It's amazing that they can be in this situation where they're both physically and emotionally beat up, and yet they can still feel so lucky in just sharing this tenderness together.
He smiles against her lips. "Love you," he murmurs, barely audible over the shower, then kisses her.
And then he has to straighten up to focus on washing her hair and all that, otherwise he thinks they'll get very distracted very quickly. Well, he will, at least.
It's a testament to how right they are for each other. Hard times are hard, but even within those times they can find such joy together.
"Love you," she murmurs back as their lips part.
It's probably a good thing that he moves on to the practical things they have to get done, because Joan's breath is already a little heavy and her cheeks already a little flushed. It would be so easy to get distracted with wanting to lean into the physical affection. Instead she leans back against him and closes her eyes as he washes her hair, enjoying the sensation.
At least it's easy enough to blame the breathing on the effort of getting undressed and moving around, and the flushed cheeks on the heat from the shower.
"You know, if my coaching career falls through, I could become a hairdresser," he comments playfully as he massages the shampoo into her scalp. "Not actually cutting hair, just someone who washes it. Maybe styles it, assuming people mostly want braids."
She smiles with an amused hum. "I think you'd make a great hairdresser," she says. "You can also have great conversations with your clients, which is a vital skill for a good stylist. A hairdresser is like a psychologist with scissors."
"Same reason I think I'd make a great bartender, yeah," Ted agrees with a warm chuckle. "Always good to know I've got stuff to fall back on."
The being a bartender joke is slightly more serious than the hairdresser one. Not that he would ever really want to give up sports, but in another universe, he could imagine himself like that.
"I'd take a good bartender over a psychologist any day."
"Definitely something to be said for having a beer along with your session," Joan says, amused. She technically fell under the category of therapist as a sober companion, and so like most therapists had a therapist of her own. She has great respect for the profession, but the woman she was working with when she was with Sherlock wasn't exactly her favorite. She could have used a drink in those appointments.
"Gosh, yeah, I really could've used that for couples therapy," he answers, and it's kind of said as a joke, but he very much means it. He doesn't have the best opinion of therapists, especially after that.
"Yeah..." Ted agrees quietly. "It was, uh.. A therapist Michelle had been seeing for a while. So I just felt like I came in there to be attacked, to hear all the things I'd been doing wrong.." he admits softly, frowning to himself as he rinses out Joan's hair.
He's already told her he spent a while thinking that he was the one making all the mistakes, that Michelle was right for him, but he was wrong for her. That therapist certainly didn't help with that.
"It's likely Michelle was having a hard time telling you the difficult things," Joan offers softly. "And her therapist was helping to create a space where she felt able to express herself. It probably wasn't intended to be an attack, but it's completely understandable why it would feel that way."
She reaches up to find and take his hand, knowing that it's probably difficult for him to hear this.
"It isn't your fault," Joan says softly. "Like you said, you weren't right for each other. But I know it must have been painful to hear that was the case. I know you love her."
She uses the present tense because she's aware Ted still loves Michelle, and she's okay with that.
Ted wants to argue that it takes two people to have a relationship, that it was supposed to be couples therapy, and yet he never felt like he was being listened to at all. That whatever the intention was, it didn't seem to help anything. It still kind of feels like all it did was tear down what they had, rather than find solutions.
But she's so sweet and supportive and understanding, and she's not trying to brush anything he feels aside. So he just draws a breath and sighs deeply, and tries to let all the bad mojo wash off him and down the drain.
He squeezes her hand, and then bends down to wrap his arms around her and give her a hug. He's so grateful for her.
Joan suspects that the situation was already unsalvageable, that there was little a therapist could have done to fix things, that what Ted thought they had was already gone. He's absolutely right that the therapist should have created a space where he could be heard too...the therapist was pretty obviously already on Michelle's "side" as it were, and she probably shouldn't have been their couple's therapist for that reason. But Joan suspects a different therapist wouldn't have made much of a difference in the outcome.
Joan puts her hands on his arms and leans back into the embrace, closing her eyes. She loves him so much, and his pain makes her heart ache.
He just hugs her for a moment, the way her heart aches for him feeling like it's taking some of his own pain away. He turns his head and plants a firm kiss on her cheekbone with a 'mwah'.
Then he sighs and straightens up, and goes to quickly shampoo his own hair.
Joan reaches for the soap and starts to soap herself up, enjoying the feeling of massaging her body as she lathers her skin. It's the first time she's done this on her own since the incident, and it's really nice that her ability to do such a simple thing is coming back.
After Ted washes his hair - which takes much less time than washing Joan's - he grabs some soap as well, gently massaging it across her back. He likes touching her like this. It has a purpose in getting them clean, but that doesn't mean he can't spend some extra time and care just to make sure it feels nice.
She likes when he touches her like this. It feels good on a purely physical level, and wonderful on an emotional level as well, showing her how much he loves her by caring for her. She leans forward a little to make it easier for him to wash her back, and reaches back to brush her fingertips along his leg to give him a little bit of affectionate touch in return.
He smiles at the touch, and continues to gently wash her. Even as she's definitely clean he continues just gently massaging her back, before he leans forward to plant a kiss between her shoulder blades.
...If his plan was to not get distracted, he's maybe doing a bad job of it now. He just wants to make her feel good.
It feels wonderful. As he presses his lips between her shoulder blades she draws a slow breath and sighs it out. She carefully sits up, turns her head, reaches back to curl a hand around the back of his neck, and guides his head down so she can give him a full, lingering kiss.
Ted smiles, returning the kiss happily. Well, at least he's not the only one getting distracted. The angle is not ideal for making out, but it doesn't matter. Both the intent and the feeling is there, and it definitely makes him feel some things.
He rests his hand on her sides, then slides them forward to her stomach, embracing her but in a way that is definitely pretty suggestive.
She moans softly into his mouth as his hands slide onto her stomach. Their positions are extremely awkward here, but she's feeling some things and knows he is too, and she's willing to make it work somehow.
"Help me turn around," she murmurs against his lips. "I want to face you."
Probably would've been easier to do this while they were both capable of standing upright easily, sure, but here they are. They could just dry off and move to the bedroom, but right now they're probably not very clear-headed or patient.
"Alright," he answers softly, smiling. He helps her move and adjust the chair, so there's room for her being in front of him.
The idea of drying off and moving to the bedroom is almost academic at this point. It's possible, sure, but it's also not something Joan is even thinking of at this moment.
Once she's settled, she reaches out to put her hands on his hips and gently pulls him toward her, pressing her lips to his belly.
Ted lets himself be pulled closer, his mouth falling slightly open as she presses his lips against his skin. This specifically hadn't actually crossed his mind, so now he's suddenly not sure what to do. He strokes her hair almost entirely by instinct, just wanting to touch her.
Joan pulls back a little, taking stock of their relative positioning. This might be a little awkward, but she thinks she can manage.
She maneuvers him by his hips, back a little and slightly to the side. Then, looking up at him, she slides a hand to trail over to his groin to lightly brush her fingertips over his cock, watching for his reaction, both to the touch and to what she's about to do.
Ted enjoys the way she's maneuvering him, just guiding him through touch, and he is more than willing to follow her wordless directions.
He gasps softly at her fingertips, then lets out a shaky breath, his eyes locked with hers.
They haven't actually done this before, and while it wasn't necessarily something he felt was lacking, now that it's happening he feels an almost intoxicating amount of anticipation. The arousal is obvious both in his face and under her fingertips.
He wants to ask her if she's sure, if she's up for it, but she certainly looks sure, so he's not going to argue.
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He smiles against her lips. "Love you," he murmurs, barely audible over the shower, then kisses her.
And then he has to straighten up to focus on washing her hair and all that, otherwise he thinks they'll get very distracted very quickly. Well, he will, at least.
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"Love you," she murmurs back as their lips part.
It's probably a good thing that he moves on to the practical things they have to get done, because Joan's breath is already a little heavy and her cheeks already a little flushed. It would be so easy to get distracted with wanting to lean into the physical affection. Instead she leans back against him and closes her eyes as he washes her hair, enjoying the sensation.
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"You know, if my coaching career falls through, I could become a hairdresser," he comments playfully as he massages the shampoo into her scalp. "Not actually cutting hair, just someone who washes it. Maybe styles it, assuming people mostly want braids."
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The being a bartender joke is slightly more serious than the hairdresser one. Not that he would ever really want to give up sports, but in another universe, he could imagine himself like that.
"I'd take a good bartender over a psychologist any day."
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"I'm sorry you had a bad experience," she says softly. "It sounds to me like things had already gone too far, which is a tough situation to be in."
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He's already told her he spent a while thinking that he was the one making all the mistakes, that Michelle was right for him, but he was wrong for her. That therapist certainly didn't help with that.
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She reaches up to find and take his hand, knowing that it's probably difficult for him to hear this.
"It isn't your fault," Joan says softly. "Like you said, you weren't right for each other. But I know it must have been painful to hear that was the case. I know you love her."
She uses the present tense because she's aware Ted still loves Michelle, and she's okay with that.
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But she's so sweet and supportive and understanding, and she's not trying to brush anything he feels aside. So he just draws a breath and sighs deeply, and tries to let all the bad mojo wash off him and down the drain.
He squeezes her hand, and then bends down to wrap his arms around her and give her a hug. He's so grateful for her.
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Joan puts her hands on his arms and leans back into the embrace, closing her eyes. She loves him so much, and his pain makes her heart ache.
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Then he sighs and straightens up, and goes to quickly shampoo his own hair.
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...If his plan was to not get distracted, he's maybe doing a bad job of it now. He just wants to make her feel good.
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He rests his hand on her sides, then slides them forward to her stomach, embracing her but in a way that is definitely pretty suggestive.
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"Help me turn around," she murmurs against his lips. "I want to face you."
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"Alright," he answers softly, smiling. He helps her move and adjust the chair, so there's room for her being in front of him.
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Once she's settled, she reaches out to put her hands on his hips and gently pulls him toward her, pressing her lips to his belly.
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She maneuvers him by his hips, back a little and slightly to the side. Then, looking up at him, she slides a hand to trail over to his groin to lightly brush her fingertips over his cock, watching for his reaction, both to the touch and to what she's about to do.
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He gasps softly at her fingertips, then lets out a shaky breath, his eyes locked with hers.
They haven't actually done this before, and while it wasn't necessarily something he felt was lacking, now that it's happening he feels an almost intoxicating amount of anticipation. The arousal is obvious both in his face and under her fingertips.
He wants to ask her if she's sure, if she's up for it, but she certainly looks sure, so he's not going to argue.
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