So, this is one of the many, many ways I’d like to imagine our OT3 getting together—
Roy and Keeleys’ been growing closer again, right, this slow thawing and rekindling. Awakward pauses in the corridor, jokes shared and then laughter momentarily quited as they remember that they don’t laugh like that no more. Still, the echo of the laughter lingers and it’s hesitant at first, sure, but eventually it’s firm enough, undeniable enought, that they agree to a dinner to sort things out.
And here they are, seated at window table overlooking the Thames. The restaurant is lovely and it’s not quite stiff, but it’s a bit solemn? (They rarely went out when they were together, Roy being a bit of a homebody, but this time it felt right; neutral ground.) Candles on the table, Keeley chooses the wine and it’s just right and this whole thing is just right, only…
Roy clears his throat. The apologies are all out of the way; just the real discussion left. “I fucking love you, Keeley.” Diving right into it, the only way he knows how: totally, or not at all. “I was a fucking idiot for breaking up with you and I if you’d have me I want to get back together. But,” he adds, before she can speak the sparkles shining in her eyes, “there’s this thing that we need to talk about and I don’t really want to fucking talk about it unless there’s a real chance of us getting back together, so.” He pauses, grabbing his glass of wine for a quick sip for courage, a quick sip for wetting his throat. “Is there? A fucking chance?”
Silence, for a moment. Keeley watches him over the rim of her glass. When she speaks, it’s slow and deliberate, the way she only goes when she’s feeling so much she really, really wants to make sure she gets it right: “I love you, Roy, and I do want us to get back together, but I just think you need to know… I think I have feelings for Jamie too?”
She looks up at him from under her eyelashes, all hesitation and concern, but with something else beneath it; something strong and sure.
And Roy’s face does this complicated little dance that are part annoyance and part intense relief. “Yeah. Okay. Yeah. Yeah, me too.”
“… what?”
Roy’s not sure he’s ever seen her properly surprised before. He’d cherish it, but… He looks away from her, and back, and away.
“Me too,” he manages. “I think that I have… that I have feelings for… him.” Putting it into words like that, it sounds fucking ridiculuous. But it’s true, isn’t it? He has feelings. For him. Jamie. “I’m not sure what… I don’t fucking know, okay, but I… Little prick is in my head, and I don’t think that I can— Fuck.“
Keeley looks at him. Her face is inscrutable, he thinks. He can’t read it at all, when she doesn’t want him to.
“I think he’d let you fuck him,” she says at long last, and his eyes widen at that and on her face now a grin, pleased and growing. “If you asked nicely.”
And what can Roy do at that but laugh? “So we should go ask him out then?”
“Yeah,” Keeley agrees and her smile is so very bright. “We should.”
