Yet again, thank you everyone for the wonderful feedback—so happy people are enjoying reading these as much as I do writing them! This is a scene I had in mind for a few weeks now, and I made it a bit more racy than the previous chapter. I did my best to not make it sound too much like poorly-written 'Twilight' smutfic, and more the story of two adults with a healthy sex life. Enjoy!
It was 9pm, and Ted had a spring in his step as he sprinted up the stairs of Tracy's building to her apartment; even with a broken elevator and his hands full of bags, nothing deterred him as he looked forward to a few days with Tracy.
They had spent the night before with Barney and Robin in Chelsea, making their way through the crowded streets on the 4th of July, among both tourists and locals scrambling to get a decent spot to watch the fireworks light up over the Hudson River. Luckily, they had gotten—rather expensive—tickets to a trendy rooftop bar that promised great views of the light show. There was music, dinner, drinks and, despite the high price tag, it was a great night. He and Tracy had a wonderful time, drinking, dancing... He learned that Tracy loved to dance; and he loved dancing with her. He decided he was going to take her dancing more often.
As for the main event of the night, he tenderly draped his jacket over her shoulders as the cool night air set in, wrapping his arms around her as the fireworks shot up at the sky. Even at his age, the magic of a fireworks show still left him in awe; however, that night, his eyes probably spent more time looking down at Tracy instead.
He peered over at Barney and Robin next to them who, even though they'd been married for a month and a half now, were still very much in the honeymoon phase of their marriage. He watched Robin smile as Barney whispered something into her ear, amazed sometimes that they had found one another. Particularly amazing was Barney who, given his old ways, had surprisingly fallen easily into the world of domestic bliss. Mind you, Barney and Robin were the least domestic-minded people Ted knew, so they did the domesticity thing in their own unique way, which worked perfectly for them.
They came home pretty late for a Thursday night, particularly given that Tracy still had to be at the UN at 9am the next morning. While she was at her internship, and Ted had a free day, he spent it running errands. He and Tracy were headed to Cindy and Casey's place in Flatbush for a barbecue on Sunday; they had bumped into Cindy the previous week, and she was ecstatic to see that he and her former roommate were now an item, and had invited them over. So Ted hit the shops to pick up a housewarming gift for them (they had moved into their new townhouse a month prior), a gift for the baby, and a bottle of wine to bring along.
His hands now tired from all the gifts he was carrying—plus his overnight bag—he was looking forward to staying in with Tracy that night, and spending the entire Saturday together. They were lucky it was a full weekend that Superfreakonomics weren't performing any weddings or gigs, so they were going to take advantage of it.
He made it to Tracy's door and knocked. She opened the door, gave him a quick kiss, and helped free up his arms. "Be careful with the yellow bag," he warned her. "It's their housewarming gift, and it's breakable."
"I'll take these to my room—just bring the wine into the kitchen," she told him.
She disappeared into the bedroom and he did as told, and then he plopped down onto the sofa with a content sigh, tired after a long day of running around. Ted noticed Tracy's ukulele on the coffee table, alongside a few scraps of paper. She and the band exclusively performed classic songs at their shows, but she occasionally tried to dabble with a few of her own creations, in case the band wanted to perform some original tunes.
Tracy was wickedly clever and funny: she often came up with little songs about Ted off the top of her head. There was the silly "Dippity-Do Head" that she once wrote in the half hour while she was waiting for him to get his messy 'do "just right" before a Friday night date. ("He uses hair product way too liberally/I hope I get to eat sometime tonight, she thought wishfully.") And then there was "Black Smoke" from the time he burned the romantic dinner he was trying to cook for her. ("From the oven the black smoke billowed/Thank goodness I had the foresight to open up a window.") And then there was the weirdly sexy "Happy Time", which she came up with post-coitus after a particularly intense and earth-shattering lovemaking session. ("He moves inside me with such aplomb/It's no surprise he makes me come.")
He adored her songs and the playful nature in which she shared them with him, but there was one song in particular that he had on his mind. One that he heard once, six weeks earlier, and couldn't shake from his mind. He remembered her singing it, with such longing in her voice, but he wanted to hear it again—and to watch her sing it. Ted took her ukulele in his hands, picking at the strings, running his fingers along the curves of the instrument. He noticed the small engraving on the backplate, a simple 'Love You Forever'.
Tracy had confided to him that the ukelele was in the car with Max when the crash happened. The car was totaled, both Max and the cab driver didn't make it, but the wrapped-up gift was left surprisingly intact. She didn't open her present until after the funeral, and it was two weeks later that she even noticed the engraving. Emotions still raw, the discovery was a heart-wrenching one, feeling as if Max had come back from the dead for a brief moment, just to be taken away again.
Ted held no jealousy over Tracy's first true love, as they're usually hard to shake off. Particularly when Tracy didn't have any real closure or a goodbye; they were still very much a couple in love when the universe took him away from her. Ted was in awe and thankful that she was able to open up her heart again, to him, of all people. And he was grateful to Max for this gift he held in his hands; the utter joy Tracy brought to Ted with her music, well, it was just indescribable.
Tracy came out of the bedroom, and saw Ted holding the tiny guitar. "Oh, babe, no!" she said with mock horror in her voice. "It didn't work with the bass, and it won't work with the uke: I told you, you have no rhythm. You have to accept that."
Ted chuckled. "As much as I disagree with you on that, this isn't for me," he said, handing over the instrument to her. "It's for you. Play me a little something? Please?" he asked, giving her his best sad puppy look.
"Ok," she said, laughing, taking it from his hands. "I take requests. Do you want "Somewhere Over the Rainbow"? "Hotel California"? Oh, I even finally worked out the chords for "Happy Time"!" she said excitedly, giving him a wink.
Ted stared at her lovingly. God, she's amazing, he thought. "We'll come back to "Happy Time" in a bit, I promise," he told her. "But I was thinking maybe "La Vie en Rose"?"
Much to his surprise, her face fell. "Oh," she said. "I don't want to sing that right now. You sure you don't want to hear something else?"
"Aw, come on," he said lightly. "It's been on my mind forever."
"I don't know, Ted," she admitted. "It's such a personal song for me. I'd feel so... naked singing it in front of you."
"Trace, I have kissed every. single. inch. of your body. You've writhed helplessly underneath me when you let me to tie your hands to the bedposts. I've seen your eyeballs roll to the back of your head, and your body spasm in complete, unadultered pleasure," he reminded her. "That's the most vulnerable and naked I've seen you. Besides, I've heard you sing it before, so what's the big deal?"
"That's sex, Ted; this is totally different," she said defensively. "Plus, you weren't supposed to hear me sing it that night. I thought I was alone on that balcony."
"I don't see what the big deal is—"
"Ted, I'm not going to sing it, so leave it alone!" she interrupted, raising her voice, and tossing the ukelele on the couch.
He was startled. He'd never seen her this way—she was standing there, near-tears and very upset. Ted felt horrible, that he was the one that got her worked up like that. He pushed and pushed her, when he should've just let it go the first time she asked him to.
"Shit, Trace," he said softly. "I'm so sorry."
He got up off the couch and wrapped his arms around her, hoping his embrace would convey how apologetic he was. She stood there for a few seconds, not reacting to his hug, her arms still at her sides. Ted's heart sunk.
But she quickly thereafter wrapped her arms around his middle, tightly. Relieved, he kissed her hair, murmuring "I'm sorry" over and over again into it.
"No, I'm sorry I yelled," she said softly, kissing the soft material of his shirt over his chest. "I didn't mean to get so upset. It wasn't aimed at you, I promise."
Ted shook his head. "No, I'm a jerk," he told her, squeezing her tight. "I shouldn't have pressed the issue."
They stood there some more, wrapped around each other, Tracy's lips pressed to Ted's neck, and Ted running his hands up and down her back reassuringly. "Forget I even asked," he said. "You sing it whenever you want, if ever you want. I won't ask you again, I promise."
There was a long pause before Ted felt Tracy mumble something into his neck.
He pulled back to look down at her. "What'd you say?" he asked her.
"I want to sing it for you," she repeated, looking up at him.
Ted smiled. "You really don't have to," he told her. "I already have that first time etched in my memory for life, so I'll survive, I swear."
"No, you... you need to hear it," she said decidedly. "And I really want to sing it to you, I promise. I'm ready."
"You sure?" he asked gently. "The last thing I want you to be is uncomfortable."
She shook her head, grabbing her ukelele and then, taking Ted's hand, led him towards her bedroom. "Let's get ready for bed first," she said.
Ted stared at the back of her head curiously as he followed behind her. She dropped her guitar softly on the bed, and then moved towards the dresser. She began riffling around for something to wear, apparently looking for something specific. Ted grabbed his overnight bag and dug out his sweatpants and a t-shirt, while Tracy finally seemed to have found what she was looking for.
"I'll be back," she said nervously, as she exited the room.
He watched her walk out, perplexed, wondering what on earth she was up to. He changed into his PJs, turned down the comforter and crawled underneath the sheets. Ted was a bit worried about Tracy, wondering if she was regretting this, or if she felt pressured in any way. She was acting unusual, and he was hoping it wasn't over the damn song, of all things. When she got back into the room, he was going to tell her to forget about it. Nothing was worth her getting this upset.
Lost in thought, Ted didn't notice Tracy now standing at the doorway. She cleared her throat, and Ted looked up. She wasn't wearing her usual leggings and jersey; she had opted a satin-and-lace tank top with a matching pair of very short shorts. Now Ted was very confused... and very much turned on. She was standing there, looking a bit nervous, but was sexy as hell. Was she going to play the ukelele, or were they going to have sex instead?
"Tracy—" he began. But words were lost on him at that moment.
She wordlessly walked towards the bed, and joined him under the covers, sitting cross-legged on the bed. She smiled timidly at him, reaching over for her ukelele. She took a minute or two to tune the guitar, and once she was satisfied, she gave Ted a quick glance before shutting her eyes and starting to play.
"Hold me close and hold me fast
The magic spell you cast
This is la vie en rose
When you kiss me heaven sighs
And though I close my eyes
I see la vie en rose."
Her voice trembled as she sang, and Ted reached an arm out, putting a reassuring hand on her knee. He gently rubbed it, staring up at her longingly, adoringly, letting her beautiful voice consume him.
When she was about to start the second verse, she surprisingly opened her eyes and gazed right into Ted's. She held his gaze for the entire remainder of the song, never breaking contact, and Ted, mesmerized, couldn't look away, his heart racing.
"When you press me to your heart
I'm in a world apart
A world where roses bloom
And when you speak, angels sing from above
Everyday words seem to turn into love songs
Give your heart and soul to me
And life will always be la vie en rose."
She finished the song and looked at him expectantly. Ted couldn't help but think Tracy was trying to tell him something right then and there; something important. That, through song, she was sharing a big part of her soul, revealing something she couldn't quite verbalize, or maybe didn't know how.
Ted was left speechless, overcome with emotion; he didn't know how to respond, either. All he could do was sit up—not taking his eyes off hers for even a second—slowly crawl over to her, take the ukelele from her hands, and proceed to kiss her, fiercely and passionately. Their hands roamed everywhere, their tongues doing all the talking, their bodies pressed together, fitting together like puzzle pieces.
They desperately peeled one another's clothes off, Ted doing some of his quickest work, fumbling as he reached his arm out for a condom on the nightstand. He was inside her swiftly, wanting to show her with his body how he felt for her. She did the same, arching her back every time his pelvis met hers, running her fingers down his back, lips and teeth gently sucking and tugging at the sensitive skin of his neck.
Tracy was normally a very vocal lover—not when it came to the usual moans and groans—but she usually giggled happily during, and loved to talk and tease him, ensuring sex was what it had to be: fun. This time, she was still evidently enjoying herself, but she remained quiet, save for the occasional cry of pleasure she let out. It seemed she was letting her body do the talking that night, Ted thought. Which was amazing, too; but Ted loved hearing her voice in his ear as he made love to her.
"Tracy," he said, stopping his movements for a second. "Sing "Happy Time" for me?" he asked. He began moving again.
"Really? Now?" she panted out, but was smiling up at him. "The weirdest things turn you on, Mosby."
She obliged, however, and tried her best to carry a tune while Ted was pushing in and out of her.
"Um, he's my sexy architect prof, the one who knows how to get me off," she began her naughty ditty, slightly embarrassed at first. Ted chuckled against her breast, readying himself for her ridiculous lyrics, and she soon began laughing comfortably along with him.
"His big brown eyes and bewitching smile," she crooned, shutting her eyes as he quickened his pace. "Leave my clothes in a pile... on the floor."
She paused her singing for a moment as she focused on Ted for a bit, moving her body in tandem with his, trying to regain her composure before continuing. "Sex and singing together is harder than I thought," she mused out loud.
"Go on," he grunted out, encouraging her. "You're almost there. And I'm almost there," he added.
"He moves inside me, oooh, with such aplomb," she sang out, her voice going up an octave as the pleasure waves slowly began to take over. Ted looked down at her one last time before shutting his eyes and pressing his forehead to her shoulder. "It's no surprise he makes me—"
She stopped, clutching at his arms as she began trembling underneath him. Ted wasn't far behind, his body convulsing on top of hers as he came, both willing their bodies to hold out for as long as they could. Ted soon let his body fall on top of hers, and they both lay there for a while, panting, trying to get their breaths back to a normal rhythm.
He lifted his upper body up with shaky arms, resting his elbows on either side of Tracy. Ted looked down at her; she was still trying to control her erratic breathing, her hair a gorgeous, sweaty mess. He chuckled as he smoothed out her errant strands. "Thank you for my song," he said gratefully.
She smiled at him, reaching her hand up to tenderly run her fingers through his sweaty hair, brushing them away from his eyes. He kissed the palm of her hand.
"His name is Theodore," she sang out sweetly. "And I simply adore... him."
He laughed. "That line's new," he noted, touched.
She shrugged her shoulders. "Eh, it just came to me," she said, feigning modesty.
"I can rhyme too, you know," he said boastfully, moving in to nibble her neck.
"Can you, now?" she asked, unconvinced.
"Mmm-hmm," he said. "She's so pretty. And witty. And... purrs like a kitty?"
Tracy groaned. "Aw, you just killed the mood, babe," she said, gently patting his butt.
"Wait, wait, I can turn this around, I promise," he said, and proceeded to run through the entire alphabet. "Kitty... Litty... Mitty? Nitty... Pity? Quit-y? Ritty... Sit-y... T—" He grinned devilishly. "Ok, I got it. Rewind."
He and Tracy made rewind sound effects with their mouths.
"She purrs like a kitty," Tracy still rolled her eyes at that, but Ted held up his finger, urging her to be patient. "When I suck on her..."
"Oh, ho, ho," she laughed out loud, as he proceeded to demonstrate. She meowed for his benefit as he rolled them both over, and they fell off the bed, laughing.