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Ain’t it fun(ny)?

Summary:

Based (loosely) on a three-panel piece by @halussy_ (la Dec) on Twitter.

Notes:

I dick ride big artist with shitty counterfeit for internet clout. Anyway pls check out OG artist I love them can’t u tell?

https://twitter.com/halussy_/status/1582031173332922371?s=46&t=ylGqPv6az2bHnFkyjMHTBg

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

“…And so, I’ve decided, after my long looong strings of fail blind dates and endless night on Tinder swiping left, that’s it’s time to be…” Ted paused for dramatic effect, “a single parent! To a French bulldog named Petunia. Thank you, thank you.” A round of applause, a chuckle here and there, and some swooning eyes from couples of ladies and gents from the nearest table he could spot. They all seemed to enjoy this. 

 

All except the unnerving guy sitting alone in the corner table, his scarred face void of any expression, though familiar yet he couldn’t figure out where hehad seen the guy (he definitely would remember seeing such a hottie). Ted took a sip of water, and continued with his stick. 

 

“The thing is, Petunia’s fucked-up face structure and little legs couldn’t get her far, especially in the city. So what was the solution according to my insomniac brain? A baby stroller. So now, when we go on walks, we’ll, I walk and Petunia chills in the stroller, sometimes people would compliment me doing the bare minimum as a single dad, try to get a peak at the ‘pretty baby’, and for them to be petrified when a slobbering, heaving monster looking right back.”

 

The audience roared with laughter. Ted sighed internally with relief. He was worried his jokes would be a bit too low-brow for these types of clubs, with their cigar smoke, expensive dark liquors and fur coats, but guess he was a little over his head. They were all having a good time. 

 

Again, all except Scarface Adonis over there. The club was dim but Ted could still make out the deepening frown and the tightening grip on the man’s whiskey glass. He gulped, ignoring the stutter he made as the man’s azured-gaze locked on him. 

 

Ted momentarily pushed the man to the back of his head, and decided to deal with that after having finished the gig. He was anxious enough on his own, he didn’t need to add “hot angsty blond model(?) finding my jokes offensively unfunny” to the list. 

 

——

 

“Thank you, thank you. Have a good rest of the evening!” The spotlight died down, and the jazz band went back to jamming as Ted made his way down the stage. A couple of people pulled him to their tables to congratulate and engaged in some idle small talks, and he had to quickly brush them off as nicely as possible. 

 

The ending of the gig was a little chaotic as Ted decided to go with a hard-hitting joke, scrapping the idea of just a normal boring generic one. Somehow, he felt the burning desire to impress that man, to see his beautiful yet inscrutable face broke out with laughter, or even a slight smirk was enough for Ted, enough to prove to himself that he was yes, at least I am good enough of a comedian for every white man in a five miles radius. 

 

Ted quickly squeezed through the myriad of tables and wealthy patrons and servers with their silver trays to the lone table in the corner, vaguely recalled seeing the man stood up to clap with the rest. 

 

When he got there, there was only the decorative candle flickering and a sweating half-empty glass of brown liquor. No sign of the man. Ted’s shoulders slumped, a wave of complex emotions churned the unnerving vat of acid in his stomach. A mixture of nervousness, the impulse to confront said man, a newly seeped in fear of confrontation, especially with a supposed fan, and… an absolute gnawing desire to push him down and have his way with him. 

 

“Well if this isn’t a delightful surprise.” The voice, a pleasant voice it was, yet there was no hint of surprise in it at all, came from behind Ted. 

 

Before the rubenesque man could turn around, a maroon clothes-cladded arm reached through his shoulder for the liquor. The warmth of another human body wafted onto his back. Ted shivered as the sensation of alien friction on the small portion of exposed skin on his neck and his earlobe. He definitely did that intentionally. 

 

Rustles of clothes made its way right in front of Ted, and there he was. His ( his??) Adonis. The slick back blonde hair was so perfect, it glimmered in the candlelights from the table, the turtleneck and trench coat combo left no patches of skin exposed, yet the soft stretchy material of the black undershirt clung onto every single one of his abs and toned muscles, leaving little for the imagination. Ted could feel the heat rising on his cheeks, and was grateful for the lightning setting of the club. 

 

“Erm… Can I buy you a drink?” Ted asked the man. Thank fuck his tongue wasn’t too tied from this absolute beau in front of him. “I’m Ted. Kord. Ted Kord. The comedian.” 

 

The man just look at him, a glint of amusement sprouted through the frozen expression on his face. He took a sip of watered down whiskey, then waved at the waiter near the both of them. 

 

“How ‘bout I buy you something, sugar? I’m all covered.” The waiter arrived, and Ted ordered a martini, while Adonis stayed silent. As soon as the waiter was away, the man continued. “The name is Michael. Michael Carter. And yes, I know who you are. I am here specifically for you, sugar.” 

 

Alas, Ted was so fucked

 

——

 

The night slipped by like the alcohol Ted chucked down, liquid courage, he had said to himself, for the golden man in front of me. Michael and him hit it off instantly, talking about whatever they landed on. Granted, they didn’t share the same interests, not a peas in a pod situation, but they way Ted could rambled about whatever he wanted, and instead of looking bored out of his mind like his previous dates, Michael actually took notice of the little details. And the both of them engaged in the others’ stories, ricocheting from one to the other. 

 

Ted soon discovered Michael’s frowning was him doing his best to keep the hardcore exterior by not smiling or laughing. He noticed how, in close distance, the blonde man’s lips twitched, demanding to smile yet unsuccessful. And when Michael saw Ted’s look of amusement, his frown deepened and he growled something about ‘ not funny didn’t laugh’, yet there was no actual ill-intentions behind all that. Ted just look back, smug as hell. 

 

“I remember why you’re so familiar now! You look just like that guy from Crime Society!” Ted exclaimed, a flash of memory with Michael’s face finally came to him. “Damn, you two are weirdly similar, he could've been your sibling.”

 

Michael’s expression was nonchalant, but Ted noticed the way his sharp blue eyes shifted away from the comedian himself, to the empty space next to him. And as the blonde man brought his whiskey to his mouth, the sound of ice clanking ferociously might indicate that Ted must have said something he shouldn’t. 

 

“You are half correct.” Michael finished the alcohol in one gulp and nudged the glass aside. A beat. “I am him.” And his focus was back on Ted, piercing eyes searching Ted’s expression for any disdain or discomfort. 

 

“Oh cool, it’s been eating me all night like I remember seeing you, just couldn’t put my finger on what. Anyway you want your glass refilled? Lemme-“

 

“Aren’t you afraid? In rage? That I tricked you? That I am a bad guy and my face is constantly sprawling on page six?” Michael was fidgeting. 

 

Before he could intellectually dissect his action, Ted’s hand reached to cup Michael’s face, thumb sweeping his cheekbone. The blonde man also jumped from surprise, yet melted back into the touch immediately after. 

 

“To be frank, I don’t really care,” Ted reassured, fingers feeling the soft skin on Michael’s face, the raspy five o’clock shadow and the rough different texture of his scar, “you’re funny and charming and willingly listen to me ramble so that’s a win in my book. And if we’re talking about a profession, I am a white stand-up male comedian, that’s villainous in it of itself.” 

 

Michael chucked, and he was so beautiful like that , Ted had thought. I want to make this man smile like that all the time. 

 

——

 

Time slipped, and before they knew it, the jazz band had played their last notes and the waiting staff cleaning tables replaced rich patrons occupying the place. The sound of musicians putting away their instruments and the spritzing sound of table cleaning solution pulled Ted and Michael from their conversation. 

 

“Want to take this conversation elsewhere?” Michael asked as soon as he caught sight of the waiter cleaning up the table next to them, and Ted could feel his heart kick up a notch. 

 

“Alright, your place or mine?” Thankfully his voice came out normal and not hitched up an octave, the rest of his sputtering expression was luckily hidden well enough in the shadow of the club. 

 

Long, tanned fingers reached out and met Ted’s undone bow tie, which now was just two parallel strings of cloth on his neck. Michael caressed the cloth, rolled it around and let the silk run through his fingers while looking straight into Ted’s eyes, cerulean met hazel and held onto it. 

 

My place?” Michael purred, leaning closer to Ted’s ear and dropped his voice so low for only the brunette man “Aren’t you afraid this is all an elaborate plan just to lure you back to my evil lair so that I could…” his voice was so sultry and Ted most definitely heard the grin in it as well “…hold you hostage and torture and ravish and do unspeakable things to you?”

 

Ted could feel his whole body shuddering at the inviting nature of those words ( that was an invitation for…something, Ted was about to find out very soon) . He held back a whimper about to jump out of his vocal cords as those sinister fingers brushed over the exposed skin on his neck and his chin. Cruel, cruel man, Mikey. Skin on skin, and a fire of yearning sparked. 

 

“What about you? ” Ted forced himself to soldier through, mimicking Micheal’s seductive mannerism, and wincing internally at his pathetic attempt. “Have you considered that I might be a comedian by day and a serial killer by night? I might take you to a second location, Mikey .”

 

Micheal, Mikey , arched his eyebrow at the nickname, or maybe it was the burst of confidence, but whatever it was, the blonde was reveling in it. 

 

“Your place it is then. You do worth the risk.”

 

“Hey, and I thought I am the comedian here.”

 

The two men made their way out of the club. And in the shadow of the night, Ted could feel a strong arm snaking its way around his waist, pulling him closer to its owner. 

 

Oh no , Ted chuckled in a fake shrill damsel-in-distress voice, the villain has got me, and I can’t bring myself to desire fighting back. 

 

Notes:

Pls give me recognition I crave validation from strangers