Chapter Text
“You have our pictures up in your childhood room,” Keeley says, after a few swigs of champagne.
Well fuck. Jamie should have seen that coming. “Eh, yeah, yeah, I do. That’s–fuck, that’s pretty embarrassing, innit?”
“It really fucking is,” Roy nods, but something in his tone is almost fond.
“Roy,” Keeley scolds, hitting him on the shoulder with the back of her hand. “No, it’s not embarrassing. I think we looked pretty nice up there, didn’t we, babe?”
Babe.
Roy simply grunts.
“You two are–you’re back together then? For real, now?” Jamie asks, the words simply tumbling out of his mouth.
“Uh–yeah,” Keeley nods cautiously. “Yeah, yeah we are.”
“Ah. Good for you,” Jamie offers rather stiffly. “Why–why’re you here then?”
“What d’you mean?” Keeley asks gently, tilting her head.
“Oy,” Roy interjects. “We’re here because you’re our friend, Jamie. And we–because we’re proud of you, yeah?”
“Oh,” Jamie breathes out softly, a comfortable sort of warmth pooling in his stomach.
“Right then, if you’re still overthinking, then you need more to drink,” Keeley orders, handing him the bottle of champagne, a cheeky smirk on her face.
“Won’t say no to that,” he acquiesces, most certainly not thinking about the various lips that have touched the rim of said bottle as the tart drink fizzes on his tongue. “So can I skip training tomorrow, old man?” he asks Roy as he passes the bottle over.
He grunts, passing the bottle on to Keeley. “I suppose.”
“So grumpy,” Keeley rolls her eyes, giggling. “Come on then, if we wanna get well and truly wankered, let’s do it somewhere better than here.”
Jamie sighs. This was bound to happen. “Yeah, you two have fun, I’ve gotta shower anyways, innit.”
“You’re coming with us, prick,” Roy offers up a truly asinine eye roll.
“I–”
“Course,” Keeley’s eyes house unspoken threats despite her kind gaze. “You can shower at mine.”
Jamie pauses. “Can I use the good conditioner?”
Keeley seems to think about it. “Fine.”
“Fuck it, I’m in,” Jamie grins, and shit, it’s been awhile since he’s been this excited about–anything, honestly.
“You’re sitting in the back,” Roy instructs as they walk out to the car park.
“Fair, fair,” Jamie admits as he slides into the backseat. “Really makin’ me feel like a third wheel here, huh?”
Keeley and Roy exchange a glance in the front, and something in Jamie’s stomach drops.
“I mean–just joking, innit?”
“Yeah, course,” Keeley grins, turning half round in her seat to look at him. “Hey, guess who I was talking to the other day?”
Jamie leans in dramatically. “Ah, missed the gossip with you, Keels. Who?”
“Colin,” she smiles. “Told me he came out to you lot.”
“Well yeah, I honestly thought everyone knew,” Jamie shrugs. “Grindr comment made it pretty obvious.”
“Hmm, well not everybody pays as much attention as you and I,” Keeley winks. “But yeah, I knew.”
“I certainly didn’t,” Roy offers, keeping his eyes on the road. “I'm proud of him though. Good lad. Doesn’t deserve the shit he’s had to deal with.”
That’s why I’ve stayed in the closet, Jamie thinks. Almost says it, too. Doesn’t.
Keeley knows, though, offering him a sympathetic glance.
“Didn’t know the two of you were friends, though,” he changes the subject.
“Well yeah, he came to me after–there was an issue with Isaac,” she purses her lips. “All resolved now, but we’ve been chatting every so often.”
“Good,” Jamie nods decisively. “Good for him to–ya know.”
“I do,” Keeley smiles warmly.
“I fucking don’t,” Roy says, reminding Jamie that he’s listening.
Keeley backhands his chest. “Good for him to have other queers to talk to. Obviously.”
“Obviously,” Jamie repeats.
“Oy, fuck off ‘fore I kick you out my car,” Roy swears.
“Aw, I think he likes you,” Keeley teases, her body still twisted awkwardly around in her seat, but one hand on Roy’s leg now.
It should make Jamie uncomfortable, maybe.
It doesn’t.
In the time that it takes to get to Keeley’s house, they have discussed the topics of Keeley’s odd colleague Barbara, lamb shit, and how fit Roy’s sister is, naturally.
Roy is thoroughly peeved once he’s parked. “Gimme the bottle,” he holds out a hand to Keeley.
“Go on, chug it,” Jamie encourages.
Roy glares. “The two of you are insufferable,” the words have no bite, and Jamie can’t help but to grin as he watches Roy finish off the champagne.
They’re all laughing a bit as they step out, Keeley stumbling as she reaches for her keys and grabbing onto Jamie’s arm for support.
Jamie half thinks Roy’s going to headbutt him, but all he does is reach out a hand for the keys and holds the door open for the both of them.
Jamie pauses before he steps inside, remembering something that Keeley said forever ago. “Hold on, what was it–it’s Freudian, innit? Aren’t I not supposed to go inside?”
Keeley snorts, glancing at Roy. “We’ve had sex too many times in this house,” she tells him solemnly. “I used to not be able to resist ‘im.”
“Oh, fuck off and get inside,” Roy says exasperatedly. “Besides, Freud was fucked. Did you know he thought women were lesbians because of their fathers, but he had a lesbian daughter?”
“Oh, I didn’t know that,” Keeley gasps, swinging her purse off of her shoulder and slipping her shoes off. “That makes me quite happy.”
“Course it does,” Jamie says, as if it’s obvious (because it is, isn’t it?). “Lesbians always make you happy.”
“That they do,” Keeley points at him gleefully. “That they do. Think it was Pavlovian anyways, not Freud, but same difference, right?”
“Alright, alright,” Roy says gruffly. “Jamie, shower. Keeley, you find him some clothes, and I’ll get ice for that ankle. And booze.”
“Yes please,” Jamie grins. “To all of those things.”
Roy simply grunts at him.
“Right, I’ll just go then,” Jamie chuckles, jogging up the stairs towards the guest bathroom.
Jamie loves showers. Always has, honestly. He read somewhere once that lonely people like long hot showers, but Jamie doesn’t think he’s lonely. It’s just that he likes to think.
It’s as if the water washes away not just the dirt and sweat of the day, but also all of those thoughts clouding up his brain, letting him breathe, finally.
And breathe he does, inhaling the sweet scent of Keeley’s foamy body wash, scrubbing himself clean of the day. He finds that he’s–happy. He isn’t even thinking about his dad–or, now he is, but he wasn’t before.
Jamie thinks he’s okay if the other man doesn’t respond. Or if he does. Honestly, he thinks the real challenge was sending the text in the first place. He’s proud of himself for that. Ironically, he thinks that maybe of all the things he’s done today, that might be the one that he’s the most proud of.
That reminds him of his foot, which has started to swell a bit. Jamie’s half certain he just landed on it wrong, that it’ll be fine by tomorrow, but there’s a fear there, that maybe he won’t be, maybe–no. He’ll ask Roy, once he’s clean, make the older man reassure him.
And there it is, the thought he’s been–avoiding is really the only word. What the fuck is Roy doing? Inviting him to Keeley’s, drinking with him, teasing him? It’s all some sort of fucking mind game, it has to be, because Jamie can’t imagine it to be anything else. He can’t think that–that maybe Roy–no. No, Roy’s just a friend, a friend who might be taking pity on him, sure, but just a friend, all the same.
And Keeley, well Keeley’s just a friend too, right? Keeley’s easier to think about, he finds, which is–unsurprising, really. It’s always been easier to think about girls. Probably always will be. Besides, Keeley’s always been easy, even when she’s been complicated. It’s just like that with her, it makes sense, even when it doesn’t. Although, that doesn’t make sense.
Jamie doesn’t dwell on it, simply rinsing the liberal amount of Keeley’s conditioner from his hair and turning the shower off. He dries himself off with a fluffy pink towel, honestly relishing the soft texture. He finishes flopping his hair just the right way and steps out into Keeley’s guest room with a towel wrapped around his waist to see clothes folded neatly on the bed–grey sweatpants and a football jersey–no, not just any jersey, Roy’s KUNT jersey.
Jamie’s heart beats a bit faster as he slips the clothes on, the shirt just a bit too baggy, the pants sagging on his hips, clearly Roy’s. Clearly Roy’s clothes that he’s left at Keeley’s. Because that’s still what’s going on here, try as Jamie might to forget it.
This is just hammered into his brain again as he walks down the stairs to see Roy and Keeley curled up on her sofa, passing a bottle of tequila between them, their faces close and smiling. Jamie stops for a second to admire before making his way over to them.
“You need to catch up,” Roy says, passing him the tequila.
“Don’t mind if I do,” Jamie nods, taking a long pull, wincing despite himself.
“Come on, cuddle up,” Keeley offers, patting the couch next to Roy.
Jamie takes another swig of the alcohol. “What is this, are you guys trying to drag me into some threesome or something?”
He regrets the words before they’re out of his mouth.