fic; HIMYM: all powered up on some new upper drug.
I owe so many comments on my last Big Bang Theory fic and everyone just says such nice things and I get overwhelmed and I shouldn't and I am going to respond to every comment on that, like, as soon as work ends tomorrow/today, but this just came out after tonight's episode. I DON'T KNOW WHAT IS GOING ON WITH ME. I really, really don't.
title: all powered up on some new upper drug.
fandom: How I Met Your Mother.
pairing: Ted/Marshall
rating: R?
words: 3008.
spoilers: Duel Citizenship (05.05?)
disclaimer: Fiction. I don't own anything here.
notes: If you told me that not only was I going to write HIMYM fic and not only was it going to be right after an episode, but that it was going to be Ted/Marshall, I'd have been like: no, that will not happen. BUT IT DID. Apparently cashewdani had the same thought I did after this episode and that was really empowering? That someone else wanted that fic to exist? And then I just wrote. And, oh man, I wish someone else would write this fic because I feel like this one doesn't make sense, but I just wanted that so bad and excuses, excuses.
Ted's first experience with Tantrum comes at 7:50 a.m. on a Tuesday, the second semester of freshman year. He's switched into the early period of a science prereq because the hot lacrosse player six doors down has to work her schedule around practice.
He's basically working his schedule around the hot lacrosse player.
The kid four doors down, the one with hair like Krusty the Clown, gives it to him in the dorm kitchen when Ted's pouting that someone stole his tea again. Krusty slides it over like it's a sack or a cheat sheet or something illicit and when Ted sees it's just a can of pop and not something he can roll up and smoke, he's kind of disappointed.
Six hours later he comes to in the chemistry building, clutching a garden gnome labeled, "Hello My Name is: TED'S LAB PARTNER!!!"
(He passes the class just barely, scraping by with extra credit from a psych department study on sleep deprivation, but it's fine because the teacher spoke backwards and sometimes had, like, ears on his eyes. A guy like that shouldn't have been teaching anyway.)
It only takes two days for him and Marshall to find their own supplier. It's at a gas station off campus called AM/AM and every time they go in somebody's always screeching or standing on top of the counter. Within a week, Ted's the screeching guy and Marshall's on the counter. It's awesome.
They lock themselves in the dorm for the entire weekend after that, trying to figure out what Tantrum pairs best with. They try:
Candy cigarettes
Salad
Soft pretzels
Brie (Ted moves onto a French student after the lacrosse player tells him he talks way too loud)
Pudding
Lily's special brownies (which cancel out the Tantrum)
Tangelos
And of course, jerky, but what doesn't go with jerky? Nothing.
It's still not right though, they're still missing something, and Ted seeks the guidance of Krusty. Krusty tells him everybody has their own perfect Tantrum Treat (there's like, seriously, a name for it) and he may have to "go the distance" to find it.
When Ted tells all this to Marshall, Marshall is hanging off the top bunk upside down. He flips down like a monkey, all Tantrum grace and bug eyes, and shouts, "PILGRIMAGE!"
They blow off classes the next Friday and just start driving.
If this story were going to somehow be acceptable to tell his kids, Ted would talk about how Gazzola's appeared like a glowing beacon in the night. He would say something about how they were drawn to it, how they just knew it was going to be their place.
What really happened is Marshall thought he could control the radio with the steering wheel and swerved into the Gazzola's parking lot trying to restart The Proclaimers.
When they eat though, that's when they know. The acid aftertaste of Tantrum and the elastic putty taste of the cheese, it all comes together to make this beautiful flavor of youthful rebellion and finding yourself and the feeling of the sun breaking through the clouds. Or that's what Ted scrawls in his notebook days later when they run out of Tantrum and the gas station is closed and they go back to weed for the night.
After that they save Tantrum for special occasions: the end of finals, a break up, Easter.
Driving 22 hours is the only way to make the whole Tantrum thing seem complete and they just can't be doing that every weekend. It costs way too much in gas and both of them see pictures behind their eyelids for days afterward.
It's not until junior year that they figure out there's a whole other part of the Tantrum experience.
Ted's reeling over his break up with a sociology tutor -- he thought they were dating, she thought she was working. (Years later, Barney tells several versions of this same story to Ted's teenage son, but in this instance, Ted actually does mean tutor, not prostitute.)
Marshall loads the trunk with two full cases of Tantrum and enough beef jerky that the car actually sags a little bit in the back. He picks Ted up after a sociology exam -- one he was, come to think of it, actually prepared for.
Once they're on the road, Tantrum coursing through their veins and wind, literally, in their hair (driving with their heads out the window again), everything else drops away. It's just Ted and Marshall and they're best friends and the world is totally awesome. Marshall calls Lily from a pay phone at some rest area and sings her a song called, "Lily Why Are You So Beautiful, Your Hair Should Be The Name Of A Color, It Would Be Called Lillple" and then they don't talk to anyone else but each other for eight hours.
A tire blows at three in the morning and Ted's so convinced that they were shot at that he pulls his knees up to his chest in the passenger seat and does what Marshall later describes as "childlike whimpering."
There's nothing to do but sit in the car and wait for someone to drive by to help -- Marshall cleared out the spare tire for food and Tantrum, which Ted could never begrudge him because he would've done the same thing. (And did, last trip.)
But Ted's so buzzed from being fake shot at and from caffeine and from all the driving that his head feels like it's spinning off, twisting from his neck like a -- well, like the top of a Tantrum bottle, and he's freaking out, way freaking out.
Marshall's yelling at him to stop freaking out because it's making him freak out and there's just so much yelling and oh god, this has all gone wrong. They tempted the Tantrum one too many times and now they're paying the price.
There's no way out of the car because outside it's really dark and what's out there, man? Like, there could be an angry mob or something. The actual Mob could be out there. They could be mad that they go to Gazzola's and not one of the Mob pizza parlors and, oh man, how do they know?
Marshall rolls down the window and screams into the night, "We're really sorry guys! Your pizza is probably awesome, too!"
His voice sounds high pitched and frantic and the wind whipping in through the open window is not helping Ted's whole situation, so he leans across Marshall and starts to crank the window up. It's almost closed, Ted's concentrating on the feel of the plastic knob in his hand, when he realizes Marshall is really warm. He's like a big, warm wall and, unlike everything else in the car, it doesn't feel like Marshall is moving or buzzing.
Ted ends up stopping there, flopped over in Marshall's lap, the steering wheel butting into his upper back. He's just going to stay here, just for a second, just until breathing doesn't feel like swimming.
He closes his eyes and his mouth's so dry that when Marshall starts humming, he doesn't even have enough spit left to hum along. He can feel the song though, vibrating through the tops of Marshall's thighs and right into Ted. Marshall would walk 500 miles and he would walk 500 more and on and on.
Marshall's probably walked a million miles when Ted finally realizes that he's lying in Marshall's lap. Still. He jerks up quickly and slams right into the steering wheel, making him yelp. Everything feels like it's leaving a trail, an afterglow, and when he finally maneuvers back into his own seat, he feels like his rapidly forming bruise is pulsing purple. Or Lillple.
"Dude, I do not feel good." He's looking at Marshall, sort of embarrassed, sort of just fucked up.
He realizes Marshall isn't doing much better, he stopped humming when Ted got up and his face is paper white. The moon is making his eyes look all hollow and wide. When he opens his mouth, Ted's scared for a second that Marshall actually has a black hole on his face.
"I'm floating away, man. Tell Lily it's not cheating in Heaven because she's already an angel."
Ted rolls his eyes on reflex, but it feels like they roll all the way back, like they're facing his brain, and he groans.
"Wait, Ted. Ted. Weigh me down." Marshall's looking at him like this is the best idea ever. Ted's not going to argue because it was nicer in Marshall's lap and it actually does sort of make sense. Somehow.
He folds himself half back down into Marshall's lap, avoiding the steering wheel this time. There's not a whole lot to do with his hands, so he ends up kind of clutching the gear shift, but it's still way better than the psychedelic hurricane going on when he's by himself in the passenger seat.
They stay like that for a few minutes, Ted expects Marshall to start up with the humming again, but he never does, he just sits, solid and quiet.
Ted's whole body starts to hurt all at the same time and if he wants to be able to run if the angry mob does come, he better not stay down much longer. He's not ready to give up finally feeling still though.
"Dude?"
"Hm?" He can feel the noise through Marshall's thighs again, which is still comforting, but also -- something else.
"Can we just hug? It hurts being down here, but it still feels like my skin is sliding opposite my bones."
"Oh man, I thought that was just me. Of course we can hug!" Marshall's got a huge grin on and sounds a lot like his normal self. It makes Ted feel better and makes it OK for the few seconds it takes for him to get back into his own seat.
Ted's hugged Marshall plenty of times and it always kind of makes him feel like kind of a girl. Not because there's anything wrong with hugging your best friend, but because Marshall is so tall that Ted feels like a tiny little girl in comparison. In the car though, they're almost at the same level (almost) and Ted's not sure how to begin.
"Uh, how should we do this? Should I go this way or --" Ted's got his arms up, trying to decide if he's going one arm over the shoulder, one under Marshall's armpit or both over the neck, but Marshall just wraps him in a big bear hug. Ted's arms fall around Marshall's waist, the gear shift separating their lower torsos.
"We're gonna make it through this, Ted. I just know it! A car's gonna come and I'll get to see Lily again and you'll find a new tutor and be an architect and --"
Marshall just trails off, going from happy and loud to dreamy.
It's awkward having his chin propped up on Marshall's shoulder, but instead of turning his face away from Marshall's neck, he turns into it.
Marshall smells like clean laundry and jerky and like their dorm smells whenever Ted comes back to it after a vacation. He just smells like Marshall, which is sort of a relief, he was afraid he would never smell anything but the burnt rubber citrus of Tantrum ever again.
It's easy to snuggle into Marshall, which should be a horrifying thought, but he's so big, like a bear, a friendly bear, and all those times he thought Lily was just being showy when they were watching a movie together suddenly make sense.
Marshall has finally started humming again and Ted's lips are so close to Marshall's neck that when he joins in, they brush against the skin there. Ted's head is too heavy to lift and Marshall doesn't move or say anything, so Ted just keeps going, barely feeling the texture sliding against his mouth.
As the verses slip by, Ted's head lolls closer and closer into Marshall until there's nothing else to call what he's doing but kissing. Weird, rhythmic kissing, but kissing nonetheless.
It doesn't feel wrong or misplaced or like anything really. It just feels like he's kissing Marshall's neck. Like that's something they do.
When Marshall sort of arches his neck into Ted's mouth, things immediately change into something they don't do necessarily do, but that they're apparently going to do now.
Ted flicks his tongue out and tastes salt, waiting for a reaction. Marshall stops humming and Ted does it again before leaning back to look him in the eye.
There's nothing in Marshall's face that indicates things have gotten weird and Ted doesn't actually feel like things are weird. In fact, he sort of feels like it would be weird not to just actually kiss Marshall now.
Ted leans forward and Marshall's doing the same, meeting him over the center console and then they're kissing. Right on the mouth, right in the middle of a broken down car right in the middle of -- what state are they in?
It feels exactly like kissing a girl, but also the exact opposite of kissing a girl and Ted's brain shudders trying to process it. Marshall's, like, meatier, but warm and wet and they skip all the hesitant just-lips-touching dainty stuff and get right into it. They're both trying to establish a lead, trying to dominate and Ted wrestles his tongue into Marshall's mouth, only to have Marshall sweep it back with his own tongue.
They've already reached the point where, if Marshall were a girl, Ted would be trying to get to second base, but he really has no interest in feeling up Marshall's chest. He ends up with his hands wrapped around the back of Marshall, one in his hair and one on his upper back. He notices as his hair is tugged that Marshall's hands are doing the same thing to him.
The gear shift is still in the middle of things and Ted doesn't know what he's going to do when he gets there, but he knows he wants to be closer to Marshall. As he gets up on his knees and leans in, Marshall bites at his bottom lip and then sweeps his tongue over the same spot. Ted jumps, his hair scraping against the top of car, and he realizes, slanted in like this, he's actually taller than Marshall.
He's back to feeling crazy and keyed up, but in a good way, and his pants are tight, the material straining, straining, straining and just beyond is Marshall, giving off heat that's making him a thousand times harder. If either of them moved forward even an inch, Ted's dick would bump against Marshall's stomach. Ted moves the hand on Marshall's back down to his thigh for balance and he can feel Marshall's length. He skirts the edge of his thumb against his fly, just light enough that it could be an accident and Marshall groans.
It's gotten so hot in the car that Ted can feel sweat beading on his forehead and he's not sure what the next move is. Marshall's hands are moving a lot, but not committing to anything -- he's being just as careful as Ted about not doing that anything too startling.
Minutes pass with all this skirting the inevitable, when a knock on the window does the startling for them. They jump back, Ted's knee slamming into the emergency brake and a gangly looking guy is staring at them through the passenger window.
Ted gives him a hasty once over and decides, if needed, he could take him (Marshall could take him) and he rolls the window down.
He looks about their age, probably a college student, but maybe just a little bit nerdier. Ted's self aware enough to know that he's a nerd, but this guy is like, a computer nerd or something. Not that the dude just caught making out with his best friend is in any position to judge anything.
"You guys need some, uh, help?"
There's no way this guy didn't see what was going on, but he's not letting on.
Ted and Marshall take turns explaining what happened and, in some awesome turn of fate, the guy has a spare that'll fit. He lets them borrow it, telling them they can follow him into town to a mechanic that should be opening soon. They make the drive in silence, but instead of letting himself think about how Marshall's tongue felt and tasted, Ted thinks about why this guy is helping them.
At the body shop, they make the tire switch and Ted figures the guy will want something for his troubles. But he doesn't want any money. He just points at an empty bottle of Tantrum in the backseat and says, "I'll take one of those, if you've got it." Marshall gives him the whole second case, the one that was supposed to be for the trip home. The guy nods, takes it and drives into the sunrise.
Every time they tell this story in the future, the guy gets more mysterious, more spirit guide-y. They don't ever mention what happened before the spirit guide, but that happens a few more times, too. Always on the way to (or once -- from) Gazzola's.
When Marshall and Lily get married, Ted figures that's the end of all that -- there was never a definition anyway. You can't miss what you didn't have or something else wise.
He confirms it with himself when Marshall invites her on the final Gazzola's trip and it goes like he expected (more or less).
But later, when they're back from the trip and the thousand bathroom breaks, and Ted's pouring out the remaining Tantrum from the roof, Marshall swipes a can.
Ted thinks it'll never resurface, but years after he meets his wife (and the mother of his kids), he and Marshall run into the spirit guide at a baseball game.
They leave in the sixth inning.
&&.
title: all powered up on some new upper drug.
fandom: How I Met Your Mother.
pairing: Ted/Marshall
rating: R?
words: 3008.
spoilers: Duel Citizenship (05.05?)
disclaimer: Fiction. I don't own anything here.
notes: If you told me that not only was I going to write HIMYM fic and not only was it going to be right after an episode, but that it was going to be Ted/Marshall, I'd have been like: no, that will not happen. BUT IT DID. Apparently cashewdani had the same thought I did after this episode and that was really empowering? That someone else wanted that fic to exist? And then I just wrote. And, oh man, I wish someone else would write this fic because I feel like this one doesn't make sense, but I just wanted that so bad and excuses, excuses.
Ted's first experience with Tantrum comes at 7:50 a.m. on a Tuesday, the second semester of freshman year. He's switched into the early period of a science prereq because the hot lacrosse player six doors down has to work her schedule around practice.
He's basically working his schedule around the hot lacrosse player.
The kid four doors down, the one with hair like Krusty the Clown, gives it to him in the dorm kitchen when Ted's pouting that someone stole his tea again. Krusty slides it over like it's a sack or a cheat sheet or something illicit and when Ted sees it's just a can of pop and not something he can roll up and smoke, he's kind of disappointed.
Six hours later he comes to in the chemistry building, clutching a garden gnome labeled, "Hello My Name is: TED'S LAB PARTNER!!!"
(He passes the class just barely, scraping by with extra credit from a psych department study on sleep deprivation, but it's fine because the teacher spoke backwards and sometimes had, like, ears on his eyes. A guy like that shouldn't have been teaching anyway.)
It only takes two days for him and Marshall to find their own supplier. It's at a gas station off campus called AM/AM and every time they go in somebody's always screeching or standing on top of the counter. Within a week, Ted's the screeching guy and Marshall's on the counter. It's awesome.
They lock themselves in the dorm for the entire weekend after that, trying to figure out what Tantrum pairs best with. They try:
Candy cigarettes
Salad
Soft pretzels
Brie (Ted moves onto a French student after the lacrosse player tells him he talks way too loud)
Pudding
Lily's special brownies (which cancel out the Tantrum)
Tangelos
And of course, jerky, but what doesn't go with jerky? Nothing.
It's still not right though, they're still missing something, and Ted seeks the guidance of Krusty. Krusty tells him everybody has their own perfect Tantrum Treat (there's like, seriously, a name for it) and he may have to "go the distance" to find it.
When Ted tells all this to Marshall, Marshall is hanging off the top bunk upside down. He flips down like a monkey, all Tantrum grace and bug eyes, and shouts, "PILGRIMAGE!"
They blow off classes the next Friday and just start driving.
If this story were going to somehow be acceptable to tell his kids, Ted would talk about how Gazzola's appeared like a glowing beacon in the night. He would say something about how they were drawn to it, how they just knew it was going to be their place.
What really happened is Marshall thought he could control the radio with the steering wheel and swerved into the Gazzola's parking lot trying to restart The Proclaimers.
When they eat though, that's when they know. The acid aftertaste of Tantrum and the elastic putty taste of the cheese, it all comes together to make this beautiful flavor of youthful rebellion and finding yourself and the feeling of the sun breaking through the clouds. Or that's what Ted scrawls in his notebook days later when they run out of Tantrum and the gas station is closed and they go back to weed for the night.
After that they save Tantrum for special occasions: the end of finals, a break up, Easter.
Driving 22 hours is the only way to make the whole Tantrum thing seem complete and they just can't be doing that every weekend. It costs way too much in gas and both of them see pictures behind their eyelids for days afterward.
It's not until junior year that they figure out there's a whole other part of the Tantrum experience.
Ted's reeling over his break up with a sociology tutor -- he thought they were dating, she thought she was working. (Years later, Barney tells several versions of this same story to Ted's teenage son, but in this instance, Ted actually does mean tutor, not prostitute.)
Marshall loads the trunk with two full cases of Tantrum and enough beef jerky that the car actually sags a little bit in the back. He picks Ted up after a sociology exam -- one he was, come to think of it, actually prepared for.
Once they're on the road, Tantrum coursing through their veins and wind, literally, in their hair (driving with their heads out the window again), everything else drops away. It's just Ted and Marshall and they're best friends and the world is totally awesome. Marshall calls Lily from a pay phone at some rest area and sings her a song called, "Lily Why Are You So Beautiful, Your Hair Should Be The Name Of A Color, It Would Be Called Lillple" and then they don't talk to anyone else but each other for eight hours.
A tire blows at three in the morning and Ted's so convinced that they were shot at that he pulls his knees up to his chest in the passenger seat and does what Marshall later describes as "childlike whimpering."
There's nothing to do but sit in the car and wait for someone to drive by to help -- Marshall cleared out the spare tire for food and Tantrum, which Ted could never begrudge him because he would've done the same thing. (And did, last trip.)
But Ted's so buzzed from being fake shot at and from caffeine and from all the driving that his head feels like it's spinning off, twisting from his neck like a -- well, like the top of a Tantrum bottle, and he's freaking out, way freaking out.
Marshall's yelling at him to stop freaking out because it's making him freak out and there's just so much yelling and oh god, this has all gone wrong. They tempted the Tantrum one too many times and now they're paying the price.
There's no way out of the car because outside it's really dark and what's out there, man? Like, there could be an angry mob or something. The actual Mob could be out there. They could be mad that they go to Gazzola's and not one of the Mob pizza parlors and, oh man, how do they know?
Marshall rolls down the window and screams into the night, "We're really sorry guys! Your pizza is probably awesome, too!"
His voice sounds high pitched and frantic and the wind whipping in through the open window is not helping Ted's whole situation, so he leans across Marshall and starts to crank the window up. It's almost closed, Ted's concentrating on the feel of the plastic knob in his hand, when he realizes Marshall is really warm. He's like a big, warm wall and, unlike everything else in the car, it doesn't feel like Marshall is moving or buzzing.
Ted ends up stopping there, flopped over in Marshall's lap, the steering wheel butting into his upper back. He's just going to stay here, just for a second, just until breathing doesn't feel like swimming.
He closes his eyes and his mouth's so dry that when Marshall starts humming, he doesn't even have enough spit left to hum along. He can feel the song though, vibrating through the tops of Marshall's thighs and right into Ted. Marshall would walk 500 miles and he would walk 500 more and on and on.
Marshall's probably walked a million miles when Ted finally realizes that he's lying in Marshall's lap. Still. He jerks up quickly and slams right into the steering wheel, making him yelp. Everything feels like it's leaving a trail, an afterglow, and when he finally maneuvers back into his own seat, he feels like his rapidly forming bruise is pulsing purple. Or Lillple.
"Dude, I do not feel good." He's looking at Marshall, sort of embarrassed, sort of just fucked up.
He realizes Marshall isn't doing much better, he stopped humming when Ted got up and his face is paper white. The moon is making his eyes look all hollow and wide. When he opens his mouth, Ted's scared for a second that Marshall actually has a black hole on his face.
"I'm floating away, man. Tell Lily it's not cheating in Heaven because she's already an angel."
Ted rolls his eyes on reflex, but it feels like they roll all the way back, like they're facing his brain, and he groans.
"Wait, Ted. Ted. Weigh me down." Marshall's looking at him like this is the best idea ever. Ted's not going to argue because it was nicer in Marshall's lap and it actually does sort of make sense. Somehow.
He folds himself half back down into Marshall's lap, avoiding the steering wheel this time. There's not a whole lot to do with his hands, so he ends up kind of clutching the gear shift, but it's still way better than the psychedelic hurricane going on when he's by himself in the passenger seat.
They stay like that for a few minutes, Ted expects Marshall to start up with the humming again, but he never does, he just sits, solid and quiet.
Ted's whole body starts to hurt all at the same time and if he wants to be able to run if the angry mob does come, he better not stay down much longer. He's not ready to give up finally feeling still though.
"Dude?"
"Hm?" He can feel the noise through Marshall's thighs again, which is still comforting, but also -- something else.
"Can we just hug? It hurts being down here, but it still feels like my skin is sliding opposite my bones."
"Oh man, I thought that was just me. Of course we can hug!" Marshall's got a huge grin on and sounds a lot like his normal self. It makes Ted feel better and makes it OK for the few seconds it takes for him to get back into his own seat.
Ted's hugged Marshall plenty of times and it always kind of makes him feel like kind of a girl. Not because there's anything wrong with hugging your best friend, but because Marshall is so tall that Ted feels like a tiny little girl in comparison. In the car though, they're almost at the same level (almost) and Ted's not sure how to begin.
"Uh, how should we do this? Should I go this way or --" Ted's got his arms up, trying to decide if he's going one arm over the shoulder, one under Marshall's armpit or both over the neck, but Marshall just wraps him in a big bear hug. Ted's arms fall around Marshall's waist, the gear shift separating their lower torsos.
"We're gonna make it through this, Ted. I just know it! A car's gonna come and I'll get to see Lily again and you'll find a new tutor and be an architect and --"
Marshall just trails off, going from happy and loud to dreamy.
It's awkward having his chin propped up on Marshall's shoulder, but instead of turning his face away from Marshall's neck, he turns into it.
Marshall smells like clean laundry and jerky and like their dorm smells whenever Ted comes back to it after a vacation. He just smells like Marshall, which is sort of a relief, he was afraid he would never smell anything but the burnt rubber citrus of Tantrum ever again.
It's easy to snuggle into Marshall, which should be a horrifying thought, but he's so big, like a bear, a friendly bear, and all those times he thought Lily was just being showy when they were watching a movie together suddenly make sense.
Marshall has finally started humming again and Ted's lips are so close to Marshall's neck that when he joins in, they brush against the skin there. Ted's head is too heavy to lift and Marshall doesn't move or say anything, so Ted just keeps going, barely feeling the texture sliding against his mouth.
As the verses slip by, Ted's head lolls closer and closer into Marshall until there's nothing else to call what he's doing but kissing. Weird, rhythmic kissing, but kissing nonetheless.
It doesn't feel wrong or misplaced or like anything really. It just feels like he's kissing Marshall's neck. Like that's something they do.
When Marshall sort of arches his neck into Ted's mouth, things immediately change into something they don't do necessarily do, but that they're apparently going to do now.
Ted flicks his tongue out and tastes salt, waiting for a reaction. Marshall stops humming and Ted does it again before leaning back to look him in the eye.
There's nothing in Marshall's face that indicates things have gotten weird and Ted doesn't actually feel like things are weird. In fact, he sort of feels like it would be weird not to just actually kiss Marshall now.
Ted leans forward and Marshall's doing the same, meeting him over the center console and then they're kissing. Right on the mouth, right in the middle of a broken down car right in the middle of -- what state are they in?
It feels exactly like kissing a girl, but also the exact opposite of kissing a girl and Ted's brain shudders trying to process it. Marshall's, like, meatier, but warm and wet and they skip all the hesitant just-lips-touching dainty stuff and get right into it. They're both trying to establish a lead, trying to dominate and Ted wrestles his tongue into Marshall's mouth, only to have Marshall sweep it back with his own tongue.
They've already reached the point where, if Marshall were a girl, Ted would be trying to get to second base, but he really has no interest in feeling up Marshall's chest. He ends up with his hands wrapped around the back of Marshall, one in his hair and one on his upper back. He notices as his hair is tugged that Marshall's hands are doing the same thing to him.
The gear shift is still in the middle of things and Ted doesn't know what he's going to do when he gets there, but he knows he wants to be closer to Marshall. As he gets up on his knees and leans in, Marshall bites at his bottom lip and then sweeps his tongue over the same spot. Ted jumps, his hair scraping against the top of car, and he realizes, slanted in like this, he's actually taller than Marshall.
He's back to feeling crazy and keyed up, but in a good way, and his pants are tight, the material straining, straining, straining and just beyond is Marshall, giving off heat that's making him a thousand times harder. If either of them moved forward even an inch, Ted's dick would bump against Marshall's stomach. Ted moves the hand on Marshall's back down to his thigh for balance and he can feel Marshall's length. He skirts the edge of his thumb against his fly, just light enough that it could be an accident and Marshall groans.
It's gotten so hot in the car that Ted can feel sweat beading on his forehead and he's not sure what the next move is. Marshall's hands are moving a lot, but not committing to anything -- he's being just as careful as Ted about not doing that anything too startling.
Minutes pass with all this skirting the inevitable, when a knock on the window does the startling for them. They jump back, Ted's knee slamming into the emergency brake and a gangly looking guy is staring at them through the passenger window.
Ted gives him a hasty once over and decides, if needed, he could take him (Marshall could take him) and he rolls the window down.
He looks about their age, probably a college student, but maybe just a little bit nerdier. Ted's self aware enough to know that he's a nerd, but this guy is like, a computer nerd or something. Not that the dude just caught making out with his best friend is in any position to judge anything.
"You guys need some, uh, help?"
There's no way this guy didn't see what was going on, but he's not letting on.
Ted and Marshall take turns explaining what happened and, in some awesome turn of fate, the guy has a spare that'll fit. He lets them borrow it, telling them they can follow him into town to a mechanic that should be opening soon. They make the drive in silence, but instead of letting himself think about how Marshall's tongue felt and tasted, Ted thinks about why this guy is helping them.
At the body shop, they make the tire switch and Ted figures the guy will want something for his troubles. But he doesn't want any money. He just points at an empty bottle of Tantrum in the backseat and says, "I'll take one of those, if you've got it." Marshall gives him the whole second case, the one that was supposed to be for the trip home. The guy nods, takes it and drives into the sunrise.
Every time they tell this story in the future, the guy gets more mysterious, more spirit guide-y. They don't ever mention what happened before the spirit guide, but that happens a few more times, too. Always on the way to (or once -- from) Gazzola's.
When Marshall and Lily get married, Ted figures that's the end of all that -- there was never a definition anyway. You can't miss what you didn't have or something else wise.
He confirms it with himself when Marshall invites her on the final Gazzola's trip and it goes like he expected (more or less).
But later, when they're back from the trip and the thousand bathroom breaks, and Ted's pouring out the remaining Tantrum from the roof, Marshall swipes a can.
Ted thinks it'll never resurface, but years after he meets his wife (and the mother of his kids), he and Marshall run into the spirit guide at a baseball game.
They leave in the sixth inning.
&&.