Chapter Text
The first time he actually notices it, Roy is in the Arrivals hall of an airport, keys in hand, growling at nothing in particular, waiting for two familiar figures to walk through the doors any minute now. He pointedly ignores the camera flashes that only get worse as Jamie fucking Tartt walks out with hair that’s too perfect to have survived a flight that long (little prick probably went to powder his nose before walking out), and next to him,Keeley looks as if she stepped out from a magazine. Then again, that’s to be expected, she’s Keely Jones, isn’t she?
As always, the paps shout out commands and questions that neither grace with an answer. Are you guys back together? Did it happen on this trip? Is that why Keeley came with you?
It’s been a while since Roy broke a camera, and now would be a great opportunity, but he gets distracted by a pair of radiant smiles coming his way, as soon as Jamie and Keeley notice him. Roy looks at them, almost hand in hand, moving towards him with what he thinks might be excitement, and he just aches. He aches, because he knows he’s done for.
He’s built a reputation over the years, in and out of the pitch, of a hard man that never gives up, one that simply doesn’t know when to quit. It’s laughable to think that in this ripe old age, it’s the realisation that he likes two people at once that will do him in. Or rather, to be fair to himself - Dr. Fieldstone should be fucking proud- it’s who these two people are that’s causing all his problems. Keeley is to be expected, sure, there’s no universe anymore where he doesn’t love her, but not the muppet. Anyone but the fucking muppet.
There’s no more time for his justified damn crisis, because Keeley practically flings herself at him. Jamie just cackles at his floundering to catch him.
“You came! I knew you loved us!” She laughs, and, despite the swoop of his stomach, Roy simply grunts. He’s about to answer that of course he did, and he always will, when Jamie thankfully saves him from the embarrassment that was about to come out of his mouth.
“Told you grandad’d be here, he’s missed us too much. Right, coach?” There’s a glint in Jamie’s eye that Roy would never admit to having missed, but goddamnit he has. It hasn’t even been that long, really, merely a few weeks, and he’s Roy Kent, he has better things to do than fucking sit around and wait for them to come back, even if that’s mostly what he did.
Keeley has stepped away by now, the two gathering their luggage and starting the trek to the parking lot, -never mind that they have no idea where he’s parked- talking to Jamie about whatever, both laughing. Roy watches them for a couple steps before he remembers to follow, and, as he does, he realises he should’ve figured it out way earlier.
One of the first signs should’ve been his eagerness to spend time with the prick. Sure, they were friends - definitely not best friends, Jamie could fuck off to Isaac if he wanted a best friend for all he cared - , and yes, Roy was coaching him, would do so to anyone with that potential, it just became…more.
Jamie would be there for breakfast most days. Some of them they’d drive to work together, meaning Roy had to drive him home after practice, leading to many beers and water on Jamie’s couch, watching a match, or a movie, or whatever else. Soon enough, Roy spent most of his time with him.
Just like always, though, Roy had written it off. He still loved Keeley after all, and despite the disaster that was their fight over her, the fact she was willing to forgive them made hope flutter somewhere inside him. A hope that was trampled just a bit more every time the three of them were together and Keeley would talk to Jamie about something Roy couldn’t understand; a new hair product, or some skin care routine she found, leaving him sitting there feeling like a fucking idiot for ever entertaining the idea of a future with her.
The signs didn’t stop there. Roy almost took notice once, of how his eyes lingered longer on Jamie, sometimes as much as they did Keeley, but stubbornness and the horror of being into Jamie Tartt kept him from putting two and two together. None of them needed that, a miserable old fuck with feelings, right as things were settling into a new norm after Ted’s departure and whatever consequences he left behind.
So he stomped everything down, even as he scrolled through his socials past pictures of Jamie with Keeley in beaches in Brazil, or a photoshoot set, some weird bird here and there. He tried to ignore the dread of them getting back together, of himself being left behind, despite how good he was aware they looked as a couple. The rage bubbling up after it was just shy of what he was used to, and so he just held onto that, growling at the walls of his house more and more as he had to answer to texts in a group chat he never consented to and pictures he wanted to both frame and burn at the same time.
It held up, kept him sane up until the two people plaguing him walked through the automatic doors of an airport, smiling as if Roy’s inner turmoil was nonexistent. Which, to them, it is, but Roy will blame them all the same.
Falling back as they walk away, Roy is once more hit by the reality of their relationship, one he’s not willing to ruin for his stupid feelings. Surely, what they have is good enough. If he just ignores it, it will go away, and he can get back to when feelings other than anger were an undiscovered world to him. But then Jamie turns back to grin at him and says;
“You coming, Royo?” And Roy just can’t say no to that, can he?