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She leaves her suitcase on the foyer, afraid jostling it up the stairs will wake him, but when she opens the door to the bedroom, he stirs anyway.
"Mmm, hey." It's low, and he doesn't open his eyes.
It's been a week, his voice is warm, she's missed him.
She makes her way around the bed to kiss his cheek, the lightest press of lips she can manage. "Go back to sleep," she murmurs, brushing her nose along his hairline, just barely. He'd showered before bed. "I'll be a moment."
Her back protests when she straightens, and she feels sticky after the long flight. Rebecca tucks an arm under her blouse and unclasps her bra, pulls it off with a sigh. She should shower too. Instead, she sits on the bench at the foot of the bed and swears she'll only close her eyes for a second, enough to gather some courage.
"You want some tea?"
It really had been just a moment, but getting her eyelids to move again is herculean. He is standing above her, though she hadn’t heard him shift. Christ, she is tired.
"Ted, I told you, go back to sleep."
"I'll make you some tea."
She huffs, but doesn’t protest; has learned to pick her battles with him.
"C'mon, if you sleep like that your neck is gonna get worse than a haunted house hinge."
He offers his hands and she takes them, and lets him pull her up until she lands, with a gentle oomph, against his chest. His arms wrap around her and he kisses her temple. "Missed you."
She hums, as much of an agreement as she can muster, and nuzzles on the cotton covering his shoulder to breathe him in.
Ted walks them to the bathroom a bit unsteadily, neither of them particularly awake. He leaves the overhead lights off and flicks the switch on the vanity fixtures to give them just enough visibility to move around, then it's about slowly getting her out of the day-old clothes. She unpins her hair, and he kneels to get her shoes; then she takes her blouse off and unbuttons her pants, and he pulls them down and off her feet. Once she’s in just her knickers, she helps him up.
"Gonna go make that tea, you alright over here?"
Rebecca rubs her eyes, and nods through a yawn. “Yes.”
He watches her for a beat, just them, alone in the quiet, in the middle of the bathroom. “I really did miss you.”
She’d gotten it the first time, but it still works. She wonders if something’s happened for him to get like this, or if that’s just Ted being Ted. It’s been some months, but she’s still, somehow, getting used to it.
“Missed you too.”
Before he leaves he gives her another hug, from behind this time, and kisses the back of her neck. He runs a hand up her side, then around and down her spine, and cups her ass.
She huffs a laugh. "Don't think I'm awake enough for that."
His smile pulls against her shoulder, where his lips have landed, "Just saying hello."
If she wasn’t so tired she might’ve had a good comeback, but as is, she just says, mostly to get herself moving. "Alright, shower then."
He leaves her to it.
Rebecca gathers her hair into a bun, dragging her feet into the stall, and decides to let the water run, probably-too-hot, against her neck and back for a while before getting any soap involved. She only realises her mistake when she startles awake to the thump of the toilet lid closing and the soft sounds of Ted making himself comfortable on it.
"Ted, what are you doing?" She doesn't know why she's whispering it, there's nobody but them at the house; except that it goes with the dim lights, and the late hour.
"Did you fall asleep?"
Busted. "Go to bed you meddling little man."
"Mmm, thought so. Gotta make sure you don't drown in the shower."
She sighs. Pick your battles. “Fine.”
"So, how was your flight?"
They talk in hushed tones while she scrubs the travel off her skin, heavy-limbed. It's nice, and unimportant. Over and over through that simplicity she thinks, I love him, and does not say it so as to not interrupt it.
In the middle of a story about the last day of the conference she realises he hasn't made a sound in a while and pokes her head out of the stall to check on him. He's sat cross-legged on the toilet lid, head pillowed on his arms on the sink with his eyes closed. Picture-worthy.
"M'not sleeping," he mumbles, ever sensitive to her eyes on him.
She smiles. "I can see that."
He makes a face. "Keep going."
She does; this was about keeping her awake, anyway. She talks through rinsing off the soap and turning off the water. Ted is holding a towel out for her when she's done.
"You're gonna have to repeat all that to me tomorrow," he says while drying her off, and she chuckles.
She tells him to go to bed again and, surprisingly, he does. Alone, she brushes her teeth, applies about a third of the creams she usually would, and, still wrapped in the towel, steps out to see Ted snoring softly and a cup of tea steaming on her bedside table. Her suitcase is in the closet; he must've brought it up.
She gets into pyjamas and then into bed, careful not to wake him again, though as soon as she's settled Ted reaches an arm out to lay a hand on her thigh, his thumb moving the silk of her sleep shorts back and forth against the skin beneath.
He takes it upon himself to fill the silence this time while she sips her tea. Keeping his eyes closed, he talks about the goings on while she was away. Henry did well in maths, so her geometry tutoring paid off, and Nora said they had to wait until she was back to continue bake-off even though it was a rewatch, and Roy didn't want to shake on a line-up before they ran it by her and, for that matter, neither did Beard.
"You're the glue,” he says, with a squeeze of her thigh.
She scoffs, setting down her tea, and scooches down the bed until they're lying on their sides, face to face. "Hardly."
"You are."
"Agree to disagree, as you say."
He nods, and makes a little noise that’s neither here nor there.
Not having opened his eyes through any of it, Ted has to grope around for her arm for a bit before circling her wrist and tugging her closer. She goes, gratefully.
They fall asleep quickly. His nose is cold against her cheek, but the tangle of their legs is warm.
It’s good to be home.