Chapter Text
It’s such a peaceful, domestic morning, and Jamie is so caught up in having a peaceful, domestic morning with Roy and Keeley that he barely even thinks about them being switched.
Then Roy says, “Keeley, if you put that much milk in your tea, you won’t like what happens to my body.”
“Oh, shit, right,” she says. “Can you switch me? I don’t want it without milk.”
Jamie laughs. “That’s what does it?”
“Yeah,” Keeley says from her own body, and somehow that single syllable, light and warm, is enough to know it’s her. They switched. Jamie was distracted for half a second and it happened.
He glances between them, searching for signs of panic. They’re giving each other fond looks. Keeley hooks her fingers into the handle of the tea cup and slides it across the table.
“God, I love your face,” Keeley says. “From this side of things, I mean. I loved being in your body, of course, but it’s also very nice to be on the outside looking in.”
“You look nice,” Roy says. “Nicer than I did in there, I think.”
“Oi,” she says. She points between herself and Jamie. “We both thought you looked fit, so don’t insult our taste, yeah?”
“Yeah,” he says quietly. “Yeah, but I don’t think—you two are going to keep switching, aren’t you?”
Jamie sits up a little taller. He’s been waiting all morning for this conversation. “If I’m invited, yeah.”
Keeley squeezes his hand on top of the table. She doesn’t say anything and neither does Roy.
“I want it,” Jamie says, because he’s not afraid. Or he is, a little, but it’d be worse not to say anything. “I want both of you, all three of us, all of it. And the switching, yeah, but that’s not the most important thing. I will do whatever it takes to keep this relationship, and if you two don’t want it, for fuck’s sake, please tell me now.”
“I want it,” Roy says. “I don’t know how to have it, but I want it.”
Jamie and Roy stare at Keeley. Her shoulders droop. It’s so different from how she was last night, just glowing with power and certainty. “I do want it,” she assures them.
“But?” Roy prompts.
“I think that sort of relationship requires a lot of… communication,” she says, cradling her tea in both hands. “And sometimes my first impulse is to panic and run away.”
“So it’ll be hard,” Jamie says, unfazed. “Everything good is hard.”
“Yeah,” Roy says.
Jamie maturely resists the temptation to fist bump him, and instead says, “Football’s hard and I haven’t quit that.”
“Yes you fucking did,” Roy says. “You left to go shag strangers on the telly.”
“And I came back!”
They make such faces at each other that Keeley finally breaks down and laughs. “Alright, alright, we’ll give it a go.”
“Does this mean we’re talking about last night? Not the sex, but the part where you panicked and ran away,” Roy says. “You didn’t like what Jamie and I were doing—because I was in your body, yes, but also because it was in public. Do you want the three of us to be private?”
“Yes,” Keeley says. “I don’t think anything else is a good idea, at least right now. But I worry about you feeling excluded, Jamie.”
“Like I’m your dirty little secret?” Jamie smirks.
“Exactly like that,” Keeley says. “And I think you and Roy are going to have to be very, very careful at the club—if you could play it like you’re gradually warming up to each other, becoming friends, and not like your years-long public feud was solved quite suddenly by sex, I think that would be good.”
“No shagging at work,” Jamie says, making an imaginary note.
Roy reaches across the table to shove him in the shoulder. “Don’t be a prick.”
Keeley glances between them. “On second thought, maybe keeping up the appearance of a feud won’t be all that difficult.”
“We’ll be more careful about how we are in public, swear down.”
“If you two could do that, maybe Jamie and I can be out and about as friends,” she muses. “We’ll have to be very dull about it so the press get bored. And maybe eventually all three of us could be seen together without a frenzy. Then Jamie won’t have to feel quite so much like a secret.”
“Sure, that sounds nice. But I’m alright for now. You can both carry on an affair with me, it’ll be very sexy. And how come you’re worried about me feeling excluded?” Jamie asks her. “Weren’t you feeling excluded when you ran away last night?”
Keeley bites her lip. “You two have something… intense. And I understand that, really, I do. You’ve devoted your lives to football, you’ve always been passionate about each other, and this side of your relationship is totally new—of course it’s intense. And I know that if we do this, all three of us will need time alone, or time to pair off, and sometimes you two will have moments that aren’t about me at all. I know all that. And I still couldn’t control how I felt.”
“So?” Jamie says.
“What do you mean ‘so?’” Keeley asks.
He shrugs. “Can’t control your feelings, can you? Seems a waste to try. And you don’t feel that way now, do you? Not going to run out on us?”
“No,” she says. “I’m really glad we made up.”
“We didn’t mean to make you feel bad, and we’re sorry about it, and you’re sorry you nearly gave this poor old man a heart attack, but he’s fine and now you feel better, so it’s alright, innit?” Jamie says. “And you should know that while Roy was grinding on me like a horny little schoolgirl—”
“Oh, fuck off.”
Jamie continues, “He was, it was very sexy. Anyway, you know we were talking about you, right? We’re both mad about you, Keeley. It’s really just you and football, what we’ve got in common.”
“And being phenomenal in bed,” she says.
“Aw, babe.”
Roy says, “Jamie’s got a point—in the most fucking annoying way possible, but he does. We’re all going to fuck things up sometimes. The best we can hope for is… something like this, I think. Talking about it. Making it up to each other.”
“Are you Roy and Jamie?” Keeley asks, squinting at them. “Did you two switch with some other, wiser people while I wasn’t looking? Roy only said ‘fuck’ once just now.”
“I’m very wise,” Jamie protests. “Wiser than both of you. The wisest. A genius, basically. Don’t need to switch with anybody for that.”
“On that topic,” Roy says, pointedly ignoring Jamie. “You two can switch all you want, but… maybe not at the club?”
“You’re worried about us getting stuck right before a match again,” Jamie says.
“No he’s not,” Keeley says, grinning. “Look at his face.”
Roy’s face is never that different. He stares, he glares. Right now he’s not looking at either of them, and— “Oh,” Jamie says. “It’s because he likes it too much. Oi. That’s offensive, that. Don’t you think I’m sexy like this?”
That gets Roy to glare at him.
“Yeah?” Jamie says, lifting his chin. “Prove it.”
“Oh my God,” Keeley says, covering her smile with her hand. “It is nine in the morning. If you two need to dash upstairs and fuck about this, go ahead. I am sitting this one out. Happily, to be perfectly clear. I will catch the next train, thank you. And later, can we please go for a walk or watch a film or do something that isn’t sex?”
“Like a date?” Jamie asks.
“That sounds nice,” Roy says.
“The way your face just lit up, Jamie, I could kiss you,” Keeley says, and then Roy gestures at her, and she does.
***
Keeley and Jamie don’t switch as often as Roy expects, but as the three of them spend more time together, something else starts happening.
Jamie wears earrings, sometimes. Roy’s never noticed that before.
And one evening when they’re all on the sofa watching a film, Roy notices Keeley painting Jamie’s fingernails the same bright pink as his boots. The pink polish is still there the next day at the club, flashing at everyone, daring them to say something. Higgins passes by and tells Jamie it’s an excellent choice for his complexion. From across the room, Roy gives Higgins an approving nod that nearly makes the poor man trip over his feet. The team are surprisingly excited about Jamie’s nails, and somehow a plan coalesces to coordinate manicures for the next match. Roy can’t hug all of them without raising a lot of questions, but when Isaac says “You in, Coach?”, he says “Fuck yes.”
Another evening at home, Keeley does Jamie’s makeup in a way Roy couldn’t describe if his life depended on it, but he manages to express his appreciation without words.
Then there’s the lingerie. Roy also appreciates that.
It’s eye-opening, seeing Jamie reach out and grab what he wants. Roy loves it.
When Jamie and Keeley do switch, even if they don’t announce it, Roy rarely needs more than a few minutes to figure it out. They try to make it a sexy guessing game once, but he wins so fast that they disintegrate into giggles. The three of them have to improvise the rest of the night.
Every now and then, one of them offers to switch with him. He’s said yes to Keeley a couple of times, and once to Jamie when he begged (“I haven’t been you, it’s not fair, please, Roy”). But Roy’s happy in his own body, as creaky and injured as it is. He’s managing the pain as well as he can, and there’s only one thing he really misses.
Most days, coaching gets him close enough.
***
Spring arrives. Keeley’s stuck inside on this beautiful Sunday morning working on deadline, but someone ought to enjoy this. Roy and Jamie don’t seem to have noticed any of that, though.
Finally, she bursts out, “Would you two stop bickering and go outside? I need quiet to finish this, please.”
“Yeah, sorry, we’ll get out of your hair,” Jamie says. “Come on, Roy. Let’s go for a walk or something.”
Jamie goes out the door, but Roy lingers. Keeley sets her laptop aside. “Can I help you?”
“Are you, er, just… typing?”
“It’s insulting to describe my work as ‘just typing,’ you know.”
“Fuck, no, I could never do your job, Keeley, you’re brilliant and it’s all beyond me. What I meant was, you don’t have any meetings, right? No one’s going to call you or see you, or—”
“Oh! You want to switch!” She smiles at him. “Of course, love.”
“Thanks. I want to try something,” he says, not looking at her.
“It’s very cute that you’re still shy about it, babe. I’ve had you in every way a person can be had, and seen you and Jamie do the same to each other. Try anything you like. Carte blanche, whatever. If you want to take Jamie upstairs and engage in some unthinkable debauchery, be my guest. I’ll wear headphones.”
Roy makes a little noise in his throat, one she can’t decipher, but he pulls her into an eager kiss as soon as she unfolds from her chair. She and Roy don’t do this often, and he seems strangely nervous today, so finding her way in takes longer than it does with Jamie. But she’s not going to complain about a good long kiss, and Roy relaxes under her touch soon enough.
After the switch, she gives him a peck on the cheek and a pat on the bum to send him on his way. She hunts down her preferred ambient noise for focus and hears Roy open the door to fetch Jamie and the thump of their footsteps heading to her bedroom, which is, at this point, very nearly their bedroom. Whatever Roy and Jamie do after that is muted by the sweet sound of Dreamy Paris Café With Jazz and Rain 60-Minute Loop.
She loses herself in getting her report into shape. It goes much faster without distractions and turns out to be less work than she’d feared.
A loud, frustrated “Fuck!” from the direction of her garden interrupts her as she’s writing her conclusion. She hears the recognizable but indistinct sound of Jamie making some soothing response. They’re not upstairs, then, and they’d better not be shagging outside. The back wall of her garden is tall, and so are the hedges, but if Roy wants to fuck in the woods, he needs to take Jamie somewhere significantly more private.
Keeley pops out an earbud and peeks over her laptop. Her mouth falls open. Roy and Jamie are plopped in the middle of her tiny square of lawn, Jamie with his legs spread and Roy between them, and Jamie is… braiding Roy’s hair? Jamie’s working slowly and concentrating adorably hard, chewing his bottom lip. The resulting braid is lopsided. Keeley didn’t even know he knew how in the first place, so she’s impressed as well as overcome with fondness. The picture they make is unbearably cute.
Roy’s dressed differently. The two of them must have been upstairs rooting through her closet—Keeley has no memory of those leggings or those trainers, and it’s been a long time since she wore a Richmond kit with TARTT printed on the back.
Jamie must be thrilled about that. She wonders how much Roy grumbled to cover the fact that he’s also secretly thrilled.
Jamie finishes the braid with a hair elastic and raises his hands in triumph. The two of them get up and pass a ball back and forth a few times, Roy very clearly experimenting with her body. All she can offer him is two working knees, but apparently that’s enough. He dribbles and then plays keepie-uppie briefly. It’s probably his worst showing in years, but it’s better than she’s ever done—not that she’s spent much time trying. She doesn’t even know where the two of them found that football, except that since they’ve been more or less living at hers since February, her house is probably full of stray footballs hiding in dusty corners and multiplying in secret.
Roy doesn’t look disappointed to find himself playing with far less prowess than he’s used to. He kicks the ball to Jamie, intent and interested. He’s not smiling, but Keeley knows him well enough to suspect he’s having fun.
Jamie’s smiling. Not with malice. He’s genuinely enjoying himself. He loves Roy’s company so much that Roy could wake him up at four in the morning for a jog and Jamie would go.
God, she loves them both so much. It should be impossible to feel more tenderness about them every day, but Keeley thought a lot of things were impossible, and yet here she is.
Keeley dabs at her eyes—delicately, until she remembers they’re Roy’s and he hasn’t got any mascara to smudge—and takes a deep breath to settle herself. Nobody will know if she sends this email while tearing up, but still it would be easier to type if she weren’t.
Off goes the email with its little whoosh sound effect, and she’s done at last.
Outside, Jamie cheers. When she takes another peek out the window, Roy and Jamie have dragged some chairs to set up a makeshift goal. Roy must have just scored. He catches Jamie around the waist and pulls him into a kiss. Jamie swings him around.
By the time Keeley gets outside, they’re horizontal and have clearly rolled through the grass a few times. Naturally, Roy’s on top. They don’t notice her right away, involved as they are in each other.
“Thank you,” Roy says, quietly and with effort. “I know it was—you were taking—fucking pity—”
“Oi,” Jamie says, grabbing a fistful of Roy’s shirt and pulling him close. “None of that. I love you and I love that you wanted to try this with me.”
He punctuates it with a fierce, deep kiss that leaves both of them panting. Roy rests his forehead against Jamie’s. His messy braid slips over his shoulder.
“I love you, Jamie,” Roy says with more earnestness than Keeley’s ever heard him use for that particular sentence.
This moment isn’t for her, but it’s an honor to witness it. They feel free to love each other in her presence. To be passionate and vulnerable. She treasures that trust.
She walks forward as noisily as she can.
Roy sits up. Jamie blows her a kiss.
She blows him one of her own. “You two enjoying yourselves?”
“Despite being in your never-played-a-day-in-your-life body, Sporty Spice here just got one past me,” Jamie says, beaming and gesturing up at Roy.
“I will fucking end you.”
“Sexually?” Jamie says with a note of hope.
“Sporty Spice was the fittest one,” Keeley says.
“You would think that,” Jamie says.
Keeley laughs—he’s not wrong about her taste—but she doesn’t miss the thoughtful way Roy is looking at her. She catches his eye. Their gaze lasts a little too long.
“Oh, we’re going inside, are we?” Jamie says, delighted. “I can’t wait to see this.”
“We’re going inside,” Keeley confirms. “And in case I haven’t mentioned it recently, I’m wild about both of you, like, just absolutely head-over-heels in love and in awe and in lust, and seeing you together makes me feel like my heart might burst, and I think we’re the best decision I’ve ever made.”
“As I recall, were us who talked you into it,” Jamie says.
“Jamie’s right,” Roy says.
“Mm,” Keeley says. “I suppose that’s true. What would you like me to do about it?”
They are both, as it turns out, full of suggestions. Jamie ducks under her arm as they walk up the stairs. It’s not as necessary now that Roy’s managing his pain more attentively, but sometimes Roy still asks for help, and Keeley and Jamie never miss an excuse to cuddle. They make their way to the bedroom, Roy and Jamie passing ideas back and forth competitively.
By the time they arrive, their list is endlessly, impossibly long. That’s alright, Keeley thinks. If there’s anything she’s learned, it’s that the three of them will work it out eventually.