Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

There was a crack in the ceiling of Ted’s bedroom. Not a big one—nothing worth the effort of getting a contractor to look at—but a crack nonetheless. A squiggly, barely visible spiderweb line that went all the way from over the window where the ceiling met the wall across to the middle of the room, disappearing somewhere underneath the light fixture. When he went to bed at night, he couldn’t really see it at all, but he knew where to look for it now—had spent this past week lying on his back staring up at it when he couldn’t sleep. Once his eyes adjusted to the darkness he could just barely make it out above him. It had become something real and tangible to focus on, something he could draw his attention to when the thoughts running through his head overwhelmed him. But it was only a distraction, and not an altogether effective one at that. 

He considered texting Beard, but that way lay trouble. Besides, he couldn’t now, not in the middle of the night when Beard might expect it to be Jane. Not when a text like that would only invite questions Ted didn’t know how to answer. Rebecca, he was sure, didn’t want to talk to him either, and texting her now, after everything, felt almost cruel. It was best if he just kept his distance after what he’d put her through. He wondered what would have happened if he’d caved to his own instincts, allowing his desires to guide him instead of rejecting her. If he’d ignored every thought telling him to pull away, and instead had reached out his hand to touch her, to hold her, to bring her closer to him than he’d ever dared bring her before. It might’ve made everything worse. It might not have made a difference at all. Not that it mattered now. He’d made his bed and now he had to lie in it. 

The guilt wrapped around itself, twisting into complicated, unruly knots within him. Unsure of how to untangle them, he just lay there, staring at the ceiling, focusing all of his attention on that tiny, nearly invisible crack until it began to seem so prominent that it almost felt like it was expanding, like any minute the ceiling might come crashing down on him. 

Ted thought of Rebecca, the pain in her eyes as they’d said their goodbyes at her door a week ago, after he’d left her to wonder why he was pulling away without ever providing her with a proper explanation. Looking back now, no matter which way he spun it, it seemed she really did feel the same. He couldn’t quite believe it, but there might be a chance that everything he had hoped for was real, right there in front of him, and, even more mind boggling, was the fact that he’d just let it go. But of course, it wasn’t everything he’d wanted. For one, he’d never wanted Beard to suffer like this. All that pain he’d been carrying around ever since he and Jane had started getting serious. Maybe since they’d met just a few weeks after they’d gotten to England—just a few weeks after Ted had brought him here.   

But still, as the avalanche of everything flooded his brain, it was the thought of Rebecca’s face that seemed to carry its way to the top of Ted’s consciousness like driftwood, ever rising despite the force of the currents trying to prevent it from staying afloat. But even with that all too light anchor, the currents roared in his head, a mess of tangling thoughts jumbled up his mind. Like what she’d asked him a few weeks ago.

You love him quite a bit, don’t you?

Of course he did. No doubt about it. Ted had loved Beard for most of his adult life. For the last few decades, he’d been the one, unchangeable constant. So of course he loved him. Of course he was always going to love him. 

Ted shifted in bed, lying on his side, curling his knees up towards his stomach, and tried to emulate the position he’d make if he was actually managing some shut-eye, attempting to trick his brain into relaxing, but it was no use. His thoughts shifted. He thought of Henry, sitting on Michelle’s new couch back in Kansas during their last video call. He thought of the team, and how much the upcoming game was affecting them. He opened his eyes again, shifting in bed once more. The crack in the ceiling was right where he’d left it. 

Ted shouldn’t have told Rebecca about Beard—about how he’d felt way back in the beginning. Better to just let it be, like he had for these past few decades. But he knew full well that wasn’t right—bottling it all up had gotten him this far, but he’d stretched himself thin in the process. He couldn’t keep living with his heart wrapped in secrets. He might never have realized that had it not been for Rebecca and Beard. And it was them he wanted most to talk to now. In a way, he’d come to think of them both as a sort of extension of himself—the only people on the planet he knew he’d always trust without hesitation or fear. Only it wasn't all about trust. That was what all this mess boiled down to. They were the two people he most wanted to talk to about it and the only people he couldn’t possibly tell. 

It was more than Beard’s break-up keeping him awake, and more than the look in Rebecca’s eyes when he let her down too, that much he knew. He’d already been feeling restless for weeks before the night Beard had come knocking on his door last week, the night Ted had decided to bring him to Rebecca’s house.

Ted opened the door a little wider, allowing Beard to step into his apartment. Beard looked like he’d been through hell and back, hardly even making note of Ted as he went past him, seemingly not even registering that his shoulder brushed against Ted’s own. Ted hitched a breath, and then caught himself, slowly but carefully exhaling, guiltily keeping his physical reaction to the touch from being too apparent.

“You've been drinking,” Beard said, not bothering to phrase it like a question at the sight of the open bottle of whiskey on Ted’s kitchen table. 

“Yeah,” Ted breathed out, fidgeting with the pockets of his sweats. “Rough night. Couldn’t sleep.”

Beard grabbed the bottle, raising it with a sardonic gesture. “To rough nights!” 

He was practically chugging the thing. It made Ted sort of queasy just looking at him. 

“Take it you’ve been drinking too, huh?” Ted asked.

Beard grunted in the affirmative. 

“Sure you ain’t had just about enough, Coach?” Ted asked in an attempt to be helpful.

Beard made a sort of childish show of taking another drawn-out swig. 

“Yaknow, it’s sorta funny. I was just thinkin’ ‘bout you ‘fore you came in.” He hadn’t fully realized that he’d even been affected by the alcohol himself until now that he was forced to string words together in a sentence, every syllable just that quarter of a beat harder to locate as he spoke. 

“Was that why you felt like drinking?” Beard joked as if that was such a ridiculous notion. 

Ted wasn’t sure how to answer that, so he just got up, heading for the kitchen. “I’m gonna get a glass of water. You want one, Coach?” 

“No.”  

Ted brought him a glass anyway, and Beard accepted it without much fuss, clearly more thirsty than he’d realized. 

Ted scrunched his nose. Beard smelled of stale beer and dirt, which wasn’t all that unusual, but there was something foul in the air. “What’s that smell?” 

“Slipped,” Beard grunted. There was a patch of something that was hopefully mud on the front of his shirt, running down his sweats. 

The story checked out. The rain these past few nights had been relentless, not exactly doing much to lighten Ted’s dampened mood.

“In the sewer?” Ted asked in his usual joking tone, but it didn’t quite land. Beard just looked down at his dirty shirt with a miserable look on his face.

Beard eventually shrugged and took another swig, this one thankfully less drawn-out than the first two. 

“I’ll get you a change of clothes,” Ted said, thankful to have discovered a clear and immediate task to occupy himself with while he figured out what else Beard needed. “You want a shower?” 

Beard shook his head, and then stood, wobbling a bit, before nodding. Ted couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen him this out of it.

“That a yes?” Ted asked.

Another nod. 

“Well, you know where to find it. Feel free to use whatever products I’ve got lying around.”

Beard just nodded for the third and final time, heading for the bathroom on unsteady feet. He wasn’t looking at Ted directly, and Ted wondered if he was simply too sloshed to keep his focus on him—the glazed look in his eyes certainly suggested as much—or if there was something about Ted himself he wasn’t willing to face. 

Finding something suitable for Beard wasn't exactly rocket science, and he found what he needed easily, grabbing a t-shirt and some sweatpants he knew would fit him. They’d been here before, after all; it was far from the first time Beard had showed up at his doorstep in the middle of the night. But tonight felt different. 

Ted just stood there for a moment, looking at the clothes in his hand, trying to calm down. This whole situation had him on edge, but he knew it wouldn’t do Beard any good to let it show. Eventually, he got his act together, heading back to stand outside the door of the bathroom, listening to the muted rushing of water. They’d shared a hotel room sometimes, when they were out of state with the Shockers, so he knew Beard didn’t tend to spend too long in the shower—as efficient about cleaning himself as he was about everything else—but it didn’t exactly surprise Ted that he was taking longer than usual.   

“You okay, Coach?” He knocked carefully, and once again, a little louder, when he didn’t get a reply. 

He heard the water finally turning off. A vague grunt muffled through the door. 

“Right, well, I’ve got your clothes for ya so if you just wanna towel yourself up that would be uh… nice.”

That’s when he heard a loud noise, a heavy thud of something hitting the porcelain, from the other side of the door. 

“You okay, Coach?” Ted asked again, genuinely worried this time.

When he received no immediate reply, he opened the door, thankful that Beard apparently hadn’t even thought to lock it when he found him lying on the floor. 

“I slipped,” Beard muttered. “Again.”

His words were so slurred that Ted suspected anyone else might not have even been able to pick up what he was saying. It was sort of like talking to a toddler, except Beard did very much not look the part, all naked and glistening wet from the shower, his thighs thick and hairy, splayed out on the floor, leaving very little to the imagination, although Ted still had to make an active effort to not let his imagination get carried away.

Ted hunched down, handing Beard a towel, setting the pile of clothes aside on the damp floor, all the while trying not to look at Beard directly.  

“I think you should maybe try to sit up, Coach,” Ted said. He felt a little hypocritical lecturing Beard, but then he’d always been better at taking care of Beard than he’d ever been at taking care of himself. Or so he’d thought. Ted wondered what the hell was wrong with him that he’d let it get to this point.

Beard grunted something like a protest, but sat up anyway, leaning his head back against the tile wall. 

Ted deliberated for half a second before sitting down next to him and then felt guilty for having deliberated to begin with. He tried his darndest to keep his eyes fixed on Beard’s face as he helped him stay propped up. Beard smelled like himself again. His breath was off and Ted’s shampoo still lingered, but underneath that he was all Beard—an earthy scent, not of soil but of things that came from soil; aged oak, dried moss and baked clay. Ted couldn’t help but breathe it in a little.

“It’s over,” Beard said, his face contorted with drunken anguish. “I left.” 

“So, you and Jane—” Ted started, but Beard reacted so viscerally to the mention of her name that Ted stopped. He wanted to say that it was a good thing, that he was glad to hear it was over, but Beard looking like that didn’t feel like something worth celebrating. 

When Beard slouched, lazy-drunk and sleepy towards him, his body warm and familiar against his own, Ted began to wonder if he shouldn’t have come up with some excuse not to sit next to him after all. But that wasn’t any type of solution. He couldn’t abandon Beard in his hour of need just because he was feeling all out of his own head. The last thing he wanted was for Beard to start feeling neglected because of it. 

Beard looked just about ready to collapse from exhaustion, and Ted wanted to offer him his bed. That was what friends were for, after all. Only, the thought of sleeping next to Beard right now felt like too much. He wished he had a couch big enough to crash on, knew Beard would only give him hell for offering to sleep on the floor. It wasn’t like they hadn’t ever shared a bed before. What had changed, really? Well, apart from everything. 

Ted wanted to tell him then, the thing that had been just on the tip of his tongue for weeks, everything Ted wanted Beard to be to him. But it wasn’t fair to him to bring it up, not now. So instead he just let out a sigh, resting his head against the wall. Beard shifted slightly, moving closer to Ted, his skin warm and wet. 

“If she hurts herself…” Beard muttered into Ted’s neck. He didn’t finish the sentence.

Ted’s breath caught in his throat. “You can’t think like that, Coach.” 

If Beard was thinking anything like that at all, Ted didn’t find out, because just like that he was out like a light, leaving Ted still hunched awkwardly next to him, the weight of his body heavy against Ted’s own. Ted waited a few moments, just until his breathing had steadied, and then got up to get his phone to make a call. He’d made friends in London—had plenty of people who would come to his and Beard’s aid if he asked—but there was really only the one other person he wanted to see right now. Pressing down on her number in his contact list hardly felt like a choice at all.  

“Ted? Are you okay?” Rebecca asked, having picked up after only a few rings. She was clearly worried—of course she was. It was the middle of the night. Ted only just about managed to keep himself from swearing under his breath.

“I’m fine, Boss. Didn’t mean to spook ya.” He tried to keep his tone light, even if he knew she could tell he was feeling anything but chipper. “I was just wonderin’ if Beard could stay with you?”

“Excuse me?”

“If it isn’t too much trouble,” Ted rushed to say. “It would only be a few days until the dust settles a little. Maybe I can convince him to get a restraining order. Y’all’ve got those over here, right? They might be called somethin’ else. Not that he’s in danger or anything, or at least I don’t think so, but I’ll be honest, I ain’t entirely sure what to think. I’d offer him my bed, but Jane has already followed us back here before, and my apartment isn’t exactly Fort Knox. I just figured your place has got a helluva lot more security measures, but not in a scary way, just in a nice, you’ve got the means to protect your privacy sort of way. I’m not trying to knock it or anything. I’m sorry if that was rude. I really didn’t mean to be rude, but it’s just that I’m kinda at a loss for what to do right now and—” 

“Ted, slow down.” Despite her obvious worry, she seemed calm and collected. The sound of her voice immediately grounded him. “What happened?”

Ted took a deep breath before carrying on in a slightly less hurried pace. “Beard and Jane broke up. And I’m not sure what’s different about this time, but he’s more shook than I’ve ever seen him. I knew they had a bit of an Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton vibe going, but it must’ve been worse than I thought. Or maybe it got worse. Either way, I know I don’t want him staying too long in a place she might come looking. And I know I don’t want him to be alone right now.”

“Do you think she’s dangerous?”

“What? No, nuthin’ like that, I don’t think, but I’ve got this horrible feeling in my gut like things were about to go up in flames, and not because those two got on like a house on fire, which come to think of it would actually be a fitting metaphor if it didn’t already mean something else.”  

“Of course he can stay with me. Can you get a cab or should I try to get my driver?”

“That’d uh- that’d be nice, Rebecca. We can get to you, I think. No need to wake Charlie in the middle of the night.”

“You know my driver’s name?” She sounded amused, and he imagined the curl of her lip, maybe even a flash of those ever so slightly crooked pearly whites.

“He’s a nice guy,” Ted told her. Ted had met him exactly once, but he’d shown Ted a picture of his kids that had made Ted ache with fondness and regret. Sort of like he was feeling now, just hearing Rebecca’s voice. “Thanks for being my knight in shining armor, Boss.”

“Of course. Anytime.”

Ted had no memory of dozing off, but he must have at least gotten a wink, feeling partially rested when his alarm woke him. 

Match days, as he was finally starting to think of them, were always sort of strange. Part of it was his own mind getting caught up in the stress of it all, but it wasn’t just him. There was always a tension in the air before they played. Even games like this one, where their chances of coming out on top seemed pretty good, put every player and even a good chunk of the office staff a little on edge. When it came to climbing the ranks of the league, every goal mattered, and their recent streak of wins only made them all too aware of what was on the line. 

Ted usually tried not to think too hard about the wins and the losses, but it did matter, Beard had been right about that all along, and that knowledge made it hard to entirely ignore, especially today when he was feeling so weighed down already. 

Beard had texted him, short and sweet, just like his texts had always been, but Ted hadn’t even managed to build up the courage to reply. 

I’ll be coming in today. 

When Ted finally got into the office, earlier than any of the players, but far later than he usually was, he greeted Roy, who eyed him a little warily, not even bothering to wish him a good morning back. “The fuck is up with you?”

“Oh, it’s just pregame jitters, Coach. Nothing to worry about.” But of course Roy was worried. He worried a lot more about other people than he’d ever admit to. 

“You’ve been having those for a week then?” 

“Okay, so maybe it’s a little more than that, but it’s not something I can really— I’m still trying to work it out.”

“You’re still talking to someone, right?” Roy asked. 

“Huh?” 

“After Sharon left, you didn’t just quit on therapy?” 

“Oh. Uh, right. No, I’ve got someone to talk to.” In truth, he’d been putting off scheduling his next appointment with Dr. Hunt. It wasn’t that she wasn’t a good therapist, it was just that Ted was self-conscious enough as it was about having cried his eyes out in every single appointment so far. Getting into the whole mess of his current predicament felt all the more mortifying for how embarrassingly juvenile it seemed. He’d get to it eventually, though, he was pretty sure. 

Roy looked at him skeptically and then grunted. “Good. Wouldn’t want you running off in the middle of a match again.” 

“Aw, don’t worry, big guy.” Ted smiled. “I ain’t planning on leaving you out there all on your lonesome.” 

Before Roy could reply the door to the locker room opened, and Beard walked in. 

“Coach,” was all Ted could think to say, trying to sound more cheerful than he was feeling. He didn’t quite manage it, his voice squeaky and nervous, his eyes too focused on Beard, trying to determine his mental state.

Roy looked surprised to see him too. “Didn’t think you’d be back yet. Ted made it seem like you were so sick that he was worried you’d keel over any second.”

“Yeah, he does that,” Beard said, glancing at Ted with a warm smile that made Ted’s stomach do flips. 

Roy huffed, giving Beard a halfhearted pat on the shoulder. “Fucking figures. Welcome back, Coach.”

“Thanks.” Beard turned to Ted. “It’s good to see you.”

Ted nodded and gulped. “I’m sorry that I haven’t been able to— I’m sorry.” 

“No reason to apologize,” Beard said simply. He seemed to mean it. 

“And uh, yeah, welcome back, Coach.” Ted was surprised to see that Beard was in much less of a state than he was himself. He looked good. “It’s good to see you back on your feet. You feeling better?” There was maybe a little too much hope in his voice. 

Beard nodded, only half-evading the question which, come to think of it, was probably better than Ted could’ve expected.  

“And staying wi—” Ted started, but then eyed Roy, thinking better of mentioning the fact that Beard had been living with their boss for the past week. “I mean your accommodation and all that. That’s been… that’s been good?” 

“Uh-huh,” Beard muttered with a slight nod, not meeting Ted’s eyes. “I’m gonna go check up on the team, make sure Colin’s been working on that thing I was telling him about. Oh, and Ted? I think Rebecca would appreciate it if you talked to her.” 

When Beard swiftly turned on his heel and went out into the locker room, Roy looked over at Ted, the furrow in his brow even deeper than usual. 

“What the fuck has been up with you two?” 

“I’m sure I don’t have a clue what you mean, Roy-o.” 

“Don’t try that with me. You’ve been fucking weird all week. Thought it was just because Beard wasn’t around, but now that he’s back, he’s somehow even fucking weirder than you’ve been. And now you’re all—” he gestured vaguely at Ted, which made Ted acutely aware of just how obvious the distress on his face must be. “Like that.” 

“Right, yeah. Guess I better come clean about that. The whole thing about him being sick was a bit of a ruse we cooked up. Beard’s just going through a bad break-up is all.” He hoped his casual tone could put a damper on Roy’s worry, despite the fact that Ted knew full well that this was far from just any old break-up to Beard.

“Fuck,” Roy let out. “Well, that’s good innit? That was a doomed relationship if I ever saw one.”

“‘Fraid our buddy Beard’s been having a rough time of it, though.” 

Roy frowned. “Do you think there’s anything we could have—”

“No,” Ted replied instinctively, even though that exact thought had plagued him all week, all those what-ifs churning through his brain, making him almost dizzy with it. If he had just told him. If he’d just looked him in the eyes and said what he’d been feeling about Jane, about everything, maybe Beard wouldn’t have— “No,” Ted repeated. “We can’t let ourselves think like that. The most important part is that it’s over and Beard’s safe and he’s back in time for the game, which I’m sure will help us a buttload with the overall team morale.” 

“Right,” Roy said, not frowning any less, although Ted wasn’t about to rule out the possibility that after years of carefully arranging his expression that way, Roy’s face had simply gotten stuck with a permanent grouchy look. 

“What was that thing he was saying about the boss?” 

“It’s…” Ted considered explaining just a portion of it. Maybe about how Ted had been secretly pining for Rebecca for months now, how his feelings had been reciprocated, how he’d turned her down, or even just the fact that Beard had been staying with her, but he knew he wasn’t ready to answer any of the follow-up questions that could invite. “They’ve gotten friendly lately is all. She really stepped up.” 

Roy looked a little confused at that but didn’t enquire any further, which was just as well, because the players were beginning to spill into the locker room, and they really oughta go through that play with Isaac and Dani at least one more time before they had to huddle together with the team. 

Ted tried to keep his head in the game, and it seemed Beard had a similar notion in mind, all his focus directed at the field throughout both halves, observing quietly. Just as well, really. Beard standing right there next to him made Ted’s head spin, or maybe his head was completely steady and it was the rest of the world that was spinning, he wasn’t sure. Best to just put his head in the one place he knew what to do with it.

It wasn’t as if Beard had ever been one for small talk in tense situations, but even once Sam had scored his second goal in the second half, placing them thoroughly in the lead 3-0, Beard still kept all talk strictly business, making none of his usual dry quips, only answering briefly, usually in the affirmative, when Ted tried to get his opinion on things.

Ted didn’t try to push. 

When Jamie scored just a few minutes before they called time, ending the game 4-1, the roar of the stadium was enough to drown out Ted’s racing mind for a second or two before it started up all over again. He looked over at Beard, who seemed happy enough, hugging the players as they came over, but his head was clearly otherwise occupied.

The locker room buzzed with excitement, everyone cheering as Colin and Isaac got out the champagne. Beard smiled ruefully in Ted’s direction as they walked into their office, and for a fleeting moment that seemed to stretch out forever, Ted let himself believe that everything could be like before between them, and nothing really had to change at all. Maybe all that worrying Ted had been doing was silly. Maybe he and Beard could just go back to the way things were. But of course, Ted knew that wasn’t the case. Things were never going to be the same, not really.

Usually, Ted would’ve been the first to insist that their post-match strategy assessment seshes were an underappreciated aspect of what made having a home-field advantage so darn advantageous in the first place, but as they entered their office, the awkward silence they’d been struggling with all evening was all the more apparent against the backdrop of the boisterous cheering in the locker room only barely muffled by the thin walls and the closed door. 

“That was a, uh, great game out there,” Ted eventually managed. “Thanks for doing your part and all that.”

Roy didn’t bother hiding how unimpressed he was with that attempt. “Is that really all you’ve got?”

Beard gave Ted a look as if to ask Well, is it?

“Uh. Guess so. If it ain’t broke…” Ted trailed off, not even bothering to finish the sentence. He really didn’t have it in him tonight.

Beard nodded at that and looked down, picking up his backpack and coat from where he’d left them on his chair, not meeting Ted’s eyes as he walked out the door.

Ted just stood, frozen, watching him leave.

“Oi,” Roy said, looking angrily at Ted. “What the fuck is up with you two?”

“Don’t you worry ‘bout a thing, Coach,” Ted replied, hoping his smile didn’t seem too forced as he tried to dodge the question with a touch of Bob Marley wisdom. “Every little thing is gonna be alright.”

Roy looked at him skeptically. “It was eerie as fuck spending a full match without a single incomprehensible American reference.” 

Ted nodded mutely. It had felt eerie for him too. Roy was right, he knew that. He wasn’t saying anything Ted hadn’t already been thinking. 

“I’m serious,” Roy said. “I need you two to sort out whatever’s going on between you.”

Ted looked over at Beard’s seat, and finally allowed himself to consider the worst-case scenario. What if Ted had already screwed it all up? What if Beard never coached this sport he so clearly adored again all because of Ted? The thought of night after night like this, sitting in his office across from an empty chair made him sick to his stomach. 

His body moved before he made the decision, hurrying out with a quick “g‘night, coach!” muttered in Roy’s direction. If he acted quickly it might not be too late. 

“Hey, Coach, wait up!” Ted shouted when he caught sight of Beard in the parking lot. For a second Ted thought Beard might catch one look at him and start sprinting in the other direction—kind of like Ted’s own fight-or-flight response was telling him to do right about now—but by the looks of it, it didn’t seem he was heading anywhere at all. Ted wondered if he’d maybe been waiting for him, except he couldn’t see how Beard could’ve predicted that Ted would be heading in his direction. 

“Coach,” Beard said with a nod. 

“So, uh, you heading home, or—?” He knew how Beard got sometimes when he got a little too tense and needed to spend a night letting go. Or really, he didn’t know the half of it, maybe even a tenth. He’d only rarely joined Beard on his nights out, and it had been years since he’d managed to make it till morning, the way Beard was still prone to. 

“Rebecca’s driver is picking us up.” The easy way he said us caught Ted off-guard. Seemed they really had gotten a lot more friendly over this past week. 

“Oh, right. Carpooling. That’s smart. What with the two of you heading in the same direction and all.”

Beard nodded at that with a sad, affectionate smile that Ted wasn’t entirely sure what to make of, and Ted was once again struck by how good he looked, well-rested and calm in a way Ted couldn’t exactly relate to at this present moment. But there was a furrow in his brow too, and when Beard didn’t open his mouth to speak, Ted started to wonder if running out here after him without much of a plan for what he was going to say had been such a good idea after all.

“I’ve been uh, thinking a lot lately,” Ted said looking down at the pavement as he spoke. It had rained earlier in the day, and the wet concrete shimmered in the moonlight. “About that thing you asked me, gosh, how long ago was that? Must be nearing just about two decades. You’d been having such a rough time of it, feeling real low, and I guess you wanted to feel good again, so you asked me to… you asked me to help you out there.”

Beard made a huffing sound that Ted might have mistaken for a laugh if he hadn’t recognized the sadness in his voice for what it was. “I don’t think that’s exactly how I put it, Coach.”

Ted still remembered it vividly, like it was a few weeks ago and not half a lifetime, Beard hugging him tighter than he ever had before, asking him if they should just get over themselves and be together the way it seemed they were made to be. “I know I fucked it all up, but I can make it good again,” Beard had told him, louder than a whisper, but muffled by Ted’s shoulder. “Just let me show you. I can’t stop thinking about that kiss. I can’t stop thinking about how good you would feel inside me.” There had been so much desperation in Beard's voice that it had damn near broken Ted’s heart. Ted had felt it then, a feeling in the pit of his gut that went against every other signal his body was sending his way. He was sure there was no way going down that path could lead to anything but heartbreak for the both of them, not when Beard was still so fragile that it seemed he might break apart right here in Beard’s arms. So he gathered all his strength, willed himself to ignore the way his body seemed to object to him pulling away from Beard’s embrace and carefully laid out every perfectly rational explanation for why it wouldn’t be a good idea for them to be together while Beard was still healing, while he still needed Ted to take care of him. Ted hadn’t brought up all the healing he still needed to do for himself—he hadn’t wanted to make it about him. 

“Right, no. I guess not.” If Beard registered the flush creeping up Ted’s neck at the memory, he was polite enough to refrain from bringing it up. 

“I didn’t believe you at the time, but maybe you were right. I wasn’t in a good place,” Beard said. 

“Didn’t want to make things worse. But I think I did. I wonder if maybe it would’ve been better for you if I hadn’t stalled. If I’d just been able to tell you to your face that I didn’t feel that type of way about you. Make a clean cut without any room for wonderin’ what I was leaving unsaid.”

“Are you telling me you never felt the same?” Beard asked. “Or that you did?”  

The use of the past tense struck Ted as a little absurd. “I’m saying it shouldn’t have mattered how I— how I felt. I just… I worry that I screwed everything up for you.” 

Beard looked at him, seeming to contemplate something. “You didn’t.”

“But, Coach… You were hurting. You’re still hurting. You just keep getting hurt. At first, I felt powerless to stop it, but now I gotta wonder if I’m not the common denominator here, messing it all up for you each step of the way.” 

When Beard didn’t reply, Ted finally dared to look at him. His eyes were fixed on Ted, brow furrowed. He didn’t understand. Why couldn’t he understand? 

Ted willed himself to hold his gaze. “Did I do this to you, Coach?” 

“This?”

“This,” Ted repeated. “All of it. And I don’t mean Jane, exactly, but everything that led to her. Everything that came after. All those times you got hurt and then got hurt some more, showing up for strategy meetings with bruises on your face, acting like nothing was the matter with you. I could’ve kept you from going through all that, couldn’t I? Instead of all that phony stuff about putting the game before the dame and joking around about you and her like there wasn’t anything about it that rubbed me the wrong way. I could’ve just told you something in my gut didn’t like the way she was treating you and you would’ve listened?”

Beard sighed. “I don’t know.”

“I didn’t even realize I was doing it again.” 

“Doing what?”

“I told myself that I was never gonna let anybody get by me like that, but I did it anyway. Nate was bad enough, but even after all that, you were right here, next to me, hurting, and even though I know you better than anyone, I didn’t realize.”

“Of course you did.”

“I did,” Ted agreed. He had to own up to that. He’d known all along that something wasn’t right. He’d only been as blind as he’d allowed himself to be. “That’s not exactly a comforting thought, but you’re right. I knew it was happening, but I didn’t let myself see it. I just kept telling myself things were okay, but they weren’t, and by the time I realized, it was too late to fix things.”

“You don’t have to fix me, Coach.”

“I just wanted everything to be okay. And you know how I am, positive attitude, mind over matter. If you just want it hard enough everything will work out in the end. But I should’ve learned my lesson by now that things don’t always work out like that.” 

Beard gave him a strange look, almost angry. “I’m not Michelle, Coach.”

That caught Ted off guard. “Yeah, I mean, I know that.” 

“And neither is Rebecca.”

And with that, Ted had pretty much lost his train of thought altogether. “I wasn’t talking about Rebecca.”

“I am. Stop trying to let us go when we didn’t ask to be released.”

“Why are you trying to make this about her?” 

“Because it’s about her, Coach.” Beard let out a deep sigh, something pained in his expression as he met Ted’s gaze. “I wanted to wait until you’d talked to her, but I need to— I need to talk to you about her. About us.” 

“So it’s been— you’ve been good? She’s been a good host?”

“Yeah. We kissed.”

“Oh.” Ted’s mind tried to process that information as best it could, but it didn’t immediately compute. He made the mistake of imagining it, and immediately regretted it the moment he began to feel his cheeks burning, the visual appealing in a way that definitely wasn’t helping. “Well th— that’s… wowza, huh.” 

“We wanted to tell you together, but as long as you’re still avoiding her, this will have to do. I just thought you should know that it happened. And that I’d like to do it again.” 

“Hey, I haven’t been—” Ted began to protest, but then thought better of it. He had been avoiding her in a way, even if he’d tried to tell himself he was only doing what she wanted. “Well, anyway, I mean, ain’t that just— huh. That’s some plot twist you went and pulled there, but if the two of you wanna keep on with it, I guess I think that probably sounds like a pretty darn swell idea. I’m uh, I’m happy for you. The both of you.” Even as he spoke the words, he still hadn’t processed the information, but if he was going to wait until he’d gotten it all aligned in his head, there was a solid risk that he might never speak again. That wouldn’t do. He needed to make sure Beard knew Ted didn’t think there was anything wrong with it. 

Beard didn’t look particularly convinced. “Coach, if I’m getting in the way of things...”

“What? No. We’re not in middle school. If you wanna kiss her and she wants to kiss you, then by all means, get kissing.” 

“And now the version that’s not bullshit?”

Ted took in a breath, allowing the information to sink in a little further before he spoke again. “Are you in love with her?”

Beard didn’t quite meet his gaze as he answered. “Coach—” He never got further than that. Maybe Beard didn’t know it yet, but the look on his face was all the confirmation Ted needed. Something inside him broke at the realization, but he tried to brush it aside. This was Beard and Rebecca, after all, just about the greatest people he’d ever known, and they were together. It sure as hell wasn’t what he’d expected or what he had hoped for, but it really was a beautiful thing. It’d be selfish of him to think that was anything short of downright wonderful. 

“Look, I ain’t gonna lie to you and pretend I wasn’t still nursing some hope that things were gonna turn out differently, even though I know I’m the one who went and messed everything up, but Coach, this is a good thing. And Lord knows the two of you both deserve something good. The list of people I’d actually think were anywhere near good enough for you is pretty short, but she’s on it, that’s for sure. You couldn’t have found a better person. Can’t imagine she could either.”

Beard looked like he wanted to refute him but thankfully didn’t. 

“And truth be told, it’s not as out of the blue as it could’ve been,” Ted continued. “Just last week, you two were all buddy buddy, and I kept having this thought of You know what? These guys don’t even need me. Gotta be honest, this wasn’t exactly what I’d had in mind, but I figured if I at least knew that you both had each other to rely on, if you could see just how great you both are, then I wouldn’t have to worry about the two of you not having someone if I—”

Beard narrowed his eyes. “If you what?” 

Ted didn’t answer right away. It would be foolish to pretend there wasn’t anything to the statement. He knew Beard could see right through him.

“Rebecca told me she thinks you might be leaving,” Beard said.

Ted thought back, trying to puzzle out how she’d gotten to that conclusion. He didn’t know why it still surprised him that Rebecca could see right through him too.

“It crossed my mind,” Ted admitted. 

Beard’s eyebrows shot up. “And you didn’t think to tell me?” 

A bitterness flared within Ted at that. How could Beard possibly take offense to being kept in the dark while he and Rebecca had been off doing god knows what? But he quelled it. That wasn’t fair to either of them. He didn’t own them. They didn’t owe him any sort of explanation for what they got up to.

“I’m not sure this club really needs me anymore, but you’ve been doing so good here, Coach. Even with everything that hasn’t worked out. Back in the day, I’d sort of accepted the idea that maybe you were just born to run. But it feels like you’ve really found a home here. I didn’t want to ask you to throw all of that away just because I’ve been entertaining a whim. And now, well, I couldn’t ask you to leave Rebecca behind. She needs you.”

“She needs you. We both do.” 

Ted didn’t answer him. Just sighed, breath heavy.   

“When did you decide this?” 

“I ain’t making any type of decision just yet,” Ted said. He had plenty of reasons to stick around and figure out some way to make it all work out. Henry had come to love London almost as much as Ted did — it wasn’t as if he didn’t have options for finding a better solution with Henry without moving away for good. But the more he’d thought about it, it seemed every reason he had to stay was actually a reason to leave. “I just thought it might be for the best if I got out of the way.”

Beard took a moment to think that over, before looking up at Ted again. “Are you running from me or from her?”

Ted didn’t know how to explain that it was both and neither, and not like that at all.

Ted heard Rebecca’s sharp intake of breath before he turned to see her. She was beautiful as ever, her gray coat shining angelically in the moonlight. 

“Hey,” Beard said, smiling at her, and she smiled back, cheeks flushed in the cold. If Ted had had any doubt that their affection for each other was mutual, that look on her face was all the confirmation he needed.

“Hey,” she replied. “Sorry if I kept you waiting. I got roped into an interview.” She turned to Ted then, studying his expression. “Hi, Ted.”

“Hi, Boss.” Ted told her, trying to keep his voice steady, but pretty sure he didn’t quite manage it. 

She hesitated for a moment before she spoke again. “There’s uh, something we’ve been meaning to t—”

“I already told him,” Beard cut her off matter-of-factly. 

“Oh, thank fuck,” Rebecca let out. “I know I said I’d do it with you, but Christ alive.” 

Beard let out a fond chuckle at that, while Ted made an effort to not overanalyze why Rebecca would have been so nervous to talk to him in the first place. 

Rebecca glanced at Beard. “And did you get into the uh, other matter?” She sounded nervous. 

Beard shook his head, something like a smile on his lips. “Hadn’t gotten that far. Don’t think this is the time.” 

“It was a bit of a shocker, not gonna lie,” Ted broke in, not feeling entirely comfortable with being left out of whatever cryptic conversation they were having. “But if the two of you wanna keep on truckin’ down that particular road, then by all means, you should go for it.” Ted willed himself to mean every word. When all was said and done, maybe this was the best-case scenario.

“I think we might. Uh, keep on trucking, that is,” Rebecca said, a hint of a smile on her face as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “He’s uh— he’s actually a very good kisser.” The last comment seemed almost like an afterthought, and Ted wondered what had compelled her to bring it up. Maybe she didn't know what else to say. Maybe she'd just said it because it was the truth.

“I know,” Ted told her. 

Beard coughed at that, but Rebecca didn’t seem surprised. He supposed that meant Beard had told her. Ted was pretty sure Beard had never told anyone else before. But it was good that he’d been able to tell Rebecca what he and Ted hadn’t even talked about for all these years. He deserved someone he could actually talk to. She deserved someone who could tell her these things.

She went to stand next to Beard, and even though they weren’t even touching, there was something about the way they carried themselves that shifted. Like they were more comfortable by each other’s side. Ted saw it then, clear as day in the moonlit night. They looked like a couple. Had he not known that they’d barely ever talked one on one before last week—had he not known them at all—he might have assumed that they’d been together for years, if not decades. He felt certain at that moment that he’d lost his window. He’d stalled too long, and every conflicting hope he’d nursed for these past few months was moot. It should hurt—it did hurt—but it also felt like every ounce of worry he’d had about both of them was soothed. The pain felt heavy in his chest, but even so, there was another weight that had been lifted. No matter what was to come, they’d have someone who could really be there. It was all he’d ever wanted for them, and here it was. It was a beautiful thing.  

“I’m sorry, Ted. I know this must be… Well, in any case, I’m glad Beard told you. We thought you deserved to know.”

“Don’t be. You don’t owe me an explanation. Whatever you two wanna get up to ain’t none of my business. Besides,” he added. “You look good together.” 

Rebecca seemed as if she had something she wanted to say to that, her mouth ever so slightly open, but no words came out. She shook her head. “We don’t need to get into all that now. Congratulations. You earned that win.” Her smile was genuine.

He wanted to ask her what she wasn’t saying, but he thought he’d had just about enough discoveries for one night. Maybe she could sense as much. “Couldn’t have done it without you, Boss.” 

Charlie pulled Rebecca's car into the parking lot then, and Rebecca first turned to look at Beard—who nodded as if to say he was ready to go—and then to Ted. 

“Would you like a ride home?” she asked.

“No, thanks, I appreciate it, but—” Ted took in a breath. “I think the walk will probably do me a lot of good.” 

Rebecca considered his expression for a moment before nodding. “If you insist.”  

Ted was expecting them to leave right then and there, but first Beard walked over, wrapping his arms around Ted and holding him tightly in a warm hug. Ted assumed he was just saying goodbye, but then Beard leaned in, his breath hot on Ted’s ears as he spoke. “I know it’s a lot to take in but, when you’re ready for it, we need to talk to you. You can’t run away from this, Coach. We’re not going to let you.”

When Beard pulled back, he turned to Rebecca, who gave him a slight nod as she held the door of her car open for him. Beard’s voice had been firm, far from a whisper—Ted was sure she’d heard every word. 

Beard entered Rebecca’s car first and she followed suit.

“Goodnight, Ted,” she told him with a warm smile before closing the door. 

“Goodnight,” Ted said, standing frozen in place until the car had pulled out of the gates, disappearing into the night. 

Maybe it was just the weeks of unrest finally getting the best of him, but Ted slept. Not an uneasy sleep, either, but a heavy near-coma that left him disoriented and foggy when he finally awoke. 

The light was peeking in through the blinds when he picked up his phone to check the time, but he barely registered it, too distracted by a notification. Rebecca had texted him. 

We think you should come over. 

And then, a few minutes after that.

To talk. 

He stared at the texts bleary-eyed, wondering if maybe he was still dreaming, and then noticed the time stamp, sent off just after 1 am, well after they must’ve gotten home. Ted wondered what they’d gotten up to that late and then promptly tried his very best to ignore the images his mind was trying to conjure up for him. Why had she texted him in the middle of the night? What did they want to talk about? It must be that same thing Beard had mentioned last night but they’d seemed so nervous to say it, he wasn’t sure what to make of it.

When? He texted back, not daring to overthink his wording, and nearly jumped when the reply was instantaneous. 

You could come by for lunch? Or dinner. Whenever you’re ready. 

That was what Beard had said, Ted remembered, although he still wasn’t entirely sure what he was supposed to be ready for. He looked around his room, noticing a pile of dirty shirts on the floor that he should maybe deal with before it accumulated into something too overwhelming for him to handle, but if Rebecca and Beard wanted him over as soon as possible, he could probably let it lie for another day. 

How long would it take him to get over there? He needed to eat something, but he wasn’t sure if he could get a thing down; he needed to shower and get dressed; figure out transport of some kind, maybe just call a cab. He tried to do the math in his head, even though numbers and time management had never been among his strong suits. An hour? Three? There were too many variables when the prospect of even getting out of bed seemed an insurmountable task.  

He was still sitting, contemplating all that—trying to formulate some response that didn’t reveal that he was so pathetically out of it that he couldn’t just promise them he’d get his butt right over—when he got a message from Beard. 

I’m making paella. Come by at 7 

Ted, never having been able to resist Beard’s cooking, replied with three thumbs up and a shrimp emoji for good measure.

He sat in bed for a little while after that, willing himself to get up, and then willing himself to the shower, to the closet, to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. Time seemed all out of whack, everything moving slower than usual. But he had plenty of time; he tried not to sweat it. At one point, while brushing his teeth extra carefully, trying to get rid of that lingering coffee taste in his mouth, he caught his own reflection in the mirror and then sort of forgot what he was doing, dropping his toothbrush on the floor. A loud noise, the heavy thud of a man hitting the floor tiles, reverberated through his head, and just like that he was back in this same room a week ago, Beard drunk and heavy against him, the scent overpowering. Ted tried to focus on the hints of the present, leaving the past in the past as he bent down to pick up the toothbrush, holding it in his hand, tasting the spearmint still left on his tongue. Ted stood back up, resting his hands on the sink, breathing in slowly as he paid attention to the cool feeling of the porcelain against his palms. It seemed he’d forgotten to breathe for a moment, and he let himself take his time to get back to reality, not leaving the room until his breath evened out completely. 

When it came down to it, there really wasn’t any need to be so hung up about all this. Beard was doing better now. Ted had seen it with his own eyes. And even if he wasn’t quite all better yet, there was a strong chance of him getting there with Rebecca by his side. That was what she did, after all. Ted sometimes marveled at how lost he’d been before Rebecca had come into his life, dragging him out of the hopelessness. 

And just because Beard was maybe a little more prone to holding a grudge than Ted had ever been, that didn’t mean he was upset with him now, that he blamed him for any of the things Ted blamed himself for. There really wasn’t any cause for worry about visiting them tonight. Heck, he’d never been scared of either of them, always knew they’d never let him down, even when he feared he might be letting them down himself. He trusted them now, more than ever. They wouldn’t invite him to dinner just to make him feel bad. Maybe they even had good news. Maybe they wanted to assure him that they wanted to spend even more time with him now, but that maybe seemed like a tad more than he felt he had any use hoping for. Besides, he wasn’t sure if he even wanted them around all that much these days. It would take time, he knew, adjusting to the certainty that he’d never be with either of them, that he’d been so close to the kind of love most people only dream of and had let it slip through his fingers. But he’d get there eventually. He knew in his heart of hearts that Rebecca and Beard had found exactly the kind of love they deserved. 

It was a polite show of hospitality, he decided. They were trying to show him that they still wanted him around, even now that they had each other, and he wasn’t gonna go and ruin that by not showing up for them all over again. 

Ted made biscuits. It was part of his usual Sunday routine, making enough to last Rebecca a week. Getting the ingredients and mixing them together was somehow easier than making coffee or getting breakfast had been. He supposed he’d Pavloved himself a bit though because the room smelled sweet and inviting and warm with just the faintest hint of vanilla, the entire kitchen filling up with the scent of Rebecca. 

He considered making another batch or maybe even something entirely different to bring along tonight, but he wasn’t sure Rebecca would feel comfortable sharing, and making something else for her felt odd. Instead, he did away with a couple of days worth of dishes, coffee cups and half-drunk glasses of water. The glasses made him realize that he was probably dehydrated so he went ahead and drank a glass of water too, cleaning it up right away afterward. 

Lunch went down a little easier than the breakfast had, and he realized he was feeling calmer. Better. He could do this. 

At four, he facetimed Henry. He’d gotten in the habit of overthinking his position whenever they video called, making sure none of the mess he tended to make of his apartment was visible in the frame, but there was no need today, barely any clutter left, and he sat down comfortably with his laptop on the dinner table, unworried about what Henry might think of it. 

Henry had been doing well lately. He’d made a ton of new friends in the school play, and he’d spent most of his Saturday playing board games with a few of them, although, from the way Henry spoke of the game, Ted had a hard time parsing the rules.

They spoke for a long time, neither of them having anywhere to go right away, and when they finally hung up, Ted was struck with the now-familiar mixture of contentment and regret. It was good that Henry was doing better and it was nice as ever to talk to him, but hanging up on him always heightened his awareness of their geographical distance. 

Ted thought about what Beard had asked him the night before, wondering how much of his desire to go back to Kansas—not home, exactly. Kansas wasn’t quite home anymore. He wasn’t sure it ever would be again—was about Henry, and how much was about everything back here he’d rather not face. If he could have just talked with Beard and Rebecca about it, maybe the decision would be easier to make. Maybe he needed to stop thinking about moving as a way to leave the people he loved behind. That hadn’t been the case with London after all. It had felt like it at first, but Henry was still right here with him in most of the ways that mattered. The distance didn’t have to mean he’d given up on him. He didn’t know why he thought it would be any different if he moved back now. 

When he finally looked at the time, the clock ticking down to 7 pm finally started to get to him, and all the calm he’d built up during the course of the day wavered a bit. He hadn’t even considered what he was going to wear. 

Ted always felt a little naked on his days off. He liked having a uniform. Liked knowing there was an expectation for his appearance and living up to it. When he didn’t have to go out for work, he usually ended up in sweatpants and an old t-shirt, or maybe something not too dissimilar from what he wore to the office if he was planning on leaving his flat. When he’d gotten dressed this morning, he’d put on a pair of sweats and one of his old t-shirts from Arthur Bryant's back in KC, which had been fine for the Henry call, but hardly seemed appropriate for a fancy diner. What did people usually wear to a home-cooked meal with two people they were in love with, who had just started dating each other and were probably in the process of falling madly in love with each other? Two people who would probably soon be so wrapped up in the wondrous joy of new love that they wouldn’t even have time for Ted outside work? He supposed it wasn’t exactly a common enough occurrence for there to be a traditional dress code he could stick to.

He wanted to look presentable, but not overly so, and knew anything with a Richmond logo on it would be inappropriate at best. He eventually settled on his favorite blue pants and a nice gray sweater with just an undershirt underneath, liking how the soft wool fabric felt against his skin. Sort of like a hug. He usually wore it with a dress shirt underneath, but he figured he didn’t need the additional layer anyway. Besides, it was cold out so he should probably wear something warm, but not too warm. His palms were getting sweaty just thinking up all the different ways this could go wrong, and he didn’t wanna add getting all gross and smelly to his list of worries. Not that there was anything to worry about. It was all going to be just fine. He repeated the assurance to himself like a mantra over and over again until it was finally time for him to get out the door. 

Rebecca greeted him at her front door, politely albeit a little jittery, and then showed him into the kitchen, where Beard was standing over the stove. She headed straight for the wine fridge, pulling out a bottle and uncorking it, her hand shaking slightly.

“You nervous, Boss?” Ted asked. 

“Yes,” she replied earnestly. “Tremendously so.”

“Oh.” Ted was more than a little nervous himself, but he was surprised to see his own discomfort so clearly mirrored in her expression. 

“Sit down,” Beard said. “Drink. Your energy is messing with my cooking mojo. Glasses are in the cupboard behind you, Coach.” He gestured with a tilt of his head, making it seem like this kitchen was his as much as it was Rebecca’s. Ted supposed it might be — he wondered if Beard even had any plans of ever going back to his old flat. 

They did as they were told, and Rebecca seemed calmer as she sipped carefully at her wine, looking over at Ted on the other side of the dinner table. “I’ve missed you this past week. Mornings just aren’t the same without Biscuits with the Boss.” 

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I thought I’d give you some space. I wasn’t sure if you’d be up for seeing me. And hey, it seems you two figured some things out in my absence so it all worked out. Probably for the best that I wasn’t around to bother you while all that was going on.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” she said, casually enough. Before Ted could figure out how to respond to that, she added, “and we haven’t figured it all out just yet. There are still some unanswered questions we’d like to get in order before we move things along.” 

Ted wanted to ask what those things were but wasn’t sure he was ready to hear the answer, even if part of him was starting to wonder if it maybe wasn’t as bad as he’d feared.

“You kept telling me how wonderful Beard is, but I never really understood what you’d meant until this past week. It all happened so fast, I didn’t really see it coming. I’m sure it’s a lot for you to process as well.” 

“It sure wasn’t how I’d envisioned things going, but you don’t gotta worry about me. Just because it’s a lot, doesn’t mean it has to be bad.”

She smiled, a knowing glimmer in her eye. “I think I agree. Sometimes a lot can be just what you need.”

Beard had outdone himself. The food was better than anything Beard had ever cooked for Ted before. It started out surprisingly like the meal they’d shared the previous week before everything had gone wrong, small talking about work and life and Henry. They were easy topics for discussion for once. Work hadn’t exactly been a picnic lately, but they were seeing results for it, and with the prospect of Henry coming over for spring break, Ted wasn’t feeling as despondent about the distance as he sometimes did. In short, life was good. The only thing in his life that hadn’t worked out for him lately was with the very people who’d graciously invited him into their home for a meal. He tried to feel deserving of the hospitality. 

Maybe it shouldn’t have surprised him that he was having a good night. Beard and Rebecca were, after all, two people whose company Ted couldn’t ever imagine getting sick of. Even with everything that had happened, that fact hadn’t changed. 

Still, he felt a little on edge, and wouldn’t have minded another glass or two of that wine, but they stuck to the one bottle tonight. No one made any moves to suggest they get another. Maybe that was for the best. 

“Thank you for coming tonight, Ted,” Rebecca said, fidgeting slightly with the stem of her empty wine glass. Now that they didn’t have the meal to distract them, it seemed her nervousness had returned. 

Beard nodded calmly, looking between them, and then down at Rebecca’s hand too. When she caught them both staring at her restless fingers, she ceased her fidgeting, placing her hand on the table instead. 

At that, Beard took out his own hand, placing it over Rebecca’s, barely even holding it, and her hand shifted, slowly, so that her palm was facing upward, all the better for him to hold hers with. Her face softened, her soft pink lip curling up into a contented smile. And when Ted looked at Beard, he saw that same, soft, lovely look on his face, the crinkling by his eyes, the laugh lines so clearly visible if you only knew where to look for them. It was an expression so familiar that Ted had to resist the urge to return it—it wasn’t his to return now. 

Beard’s fingers had been untangled from Rebecca’s, and he was trailing a line from the palm of her hand up her wrist, fingers brushing lightly against her skin. Rebecca let out a faint breath that Ted wasn’t sure he would have even registered had he not been so intensely focused on their every movement. He almost let out a breath of his own but realized before his body could move for him, and held it in. 

“Uh, looks like y’all are getting pretty comfy there, Boss.” He flushed and shifted a little in his seat. “Wouldn’t wanna impose.”

“No, Ted. Stay. There’s no imposing,” Rebecca stated simply, and Beard nodded at that, holding on to her arm a little more firmly. The flesh barely moved at the touch of his firm hands. She really did have some killer arms. 

“Nah, that’s alright, I really oughta head home.” His throat had gone suddenly dry and he tried his best not to croak out the words. “I appreciate the hospitality and the meal, but I know you two lovebirds are probably itching for me to get out of your hair. I don’t wanna get in the middle of things.”

“Not gonna argue if you feel that way,” Beard said calmly, not moving his hand away from Rebecca’s arm as he spoke. He turned to Ted, a warm, knowing smile on his face, open and inviting. “But that’s up to you.” 

Ted tried to process that. Over these past few decades, they’d gotten pretty darn good at reading each other’s expressions, predicting each other’s behaviors, reading between the lines. He couldn’t figure out why he’d suddenly be reading Beard’s signals all wrong, but when he tried to join it all together in his head it didn’t add up. He wanted to ask what he’d meant, but he was sure he’d only make a fool of himself. He couldn’t stay here with all this want inside him making him all confused about what was even going on.

“No that’s— uh, I better go,” Ted told them and then hurried out before he could change his mind. 

There was a bite in the air and Ted wished he’d worn a warmer jacket, or maybe just another layer underneath. He hated being cold, exposed to the elements. He just wanted to be home, hidden away deep under the covers with the heat turned all the way up. In his hurry to get out, he hadn’t considered how he was even supposed to get home from here, and he realized that he’d probably be waiting out here in the chilly air for at least a few minutes before a cab could pick him up. He got out his phone and started walking, but he’d only made it down Rebecca’s front step when he heard the door open behind him and immediately stopped in his tracks. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Ted. Just stay for a minute!” He turned around to look at Rebecca standing in the doorway. The expression on her face reminded him a little of how she’d looked at him sometime in his first season as coach. Not exasperation exactly, but something like it. When he met her gaze, offering her a smile, she visibly softened, adding a somewhat sheepish “Please?” 

When he didn’t reply she spoke up again. “Tell me it wasn’t all in my head.”

Ted looked at her for a few moments, stunned. He knew what she was referring to of course. It was one of the many things they’d danced around all evening.

“It wasn’t all in your head.” He owed her that much, at least. The truth was too undeniable for him to tell her anything else.

“Then what changed? Make me understand.” There was a heartbreaking frailty to the plea. Even though Ted’s stomach was twisting up into knots just thinking about it, he couldn’t keep it in any longer.

“These past few months, I’ve been feeling all sorts of things. I’m not sure when or how it happened exactly. Maybe part of me knew the whole time, but I finally admitted to myself that I was falling for you. And not just a little either. I was all but ready to jump in feet first and never look back. I think I probably knew that morning, the week of the Chelsea game. You were wearing that green silk shirt with the funny little bow-type thing-y on it. Do you remember?” 

“I do,” she said, and her smile was so lovely and warm that had he made any sort of progress at all in his efforts to fall out of love with her, it sure as hell wouldn’t have made any difference because that look in her eyes would’ve kicked him right back to square one. 

“But then you had to go and bring up how I felt about Beard, which was a door I’d pretty much closed and shut a few decades ago. And then the very next morning—just a regular ol’ morning like any other—I was walking with him to work, and I had this thought that there really wasn’t a thing in the world I wanted more than to walk alongside him every single morning for the rest of my life. And that was a real nice thought too. In fact, it was so nice, I couldn’t help thinking ‘bout how nice it would be to have more than walks and work and a few too many at the pub. Like maybe I also wouldn’t mind waking up next to him every day for the rest of my life either. I’d felt so darn lousy on those mornings when he hadn’t walked to work with me because he’d been off with Jane, and part of it had been that I missed him, and part of it had been worry, but there was something else too. And suddenly asking him to leave her felt selfish, like some petty, jealous thing, and telling you how I felt—how I feel— about you, well, that felt dishonest, like I was cheating on you before anything even got going.” 

“You could have told me the truth.” Rebecca gave him a sad smile and then walked down the steps to meet him in a hug. Ted shivered under the touch, or maybe just from the cold, as she held him tighter still, her strong arms encasing him.

“I’m sorry for hurting you, Rebecca. That was just about the last thing I wanted to do.” The confession felt easier somehow, wrapped up in her arms like this, the words spoken low into her shoulder like a secret. “It felt cruel to tell either of you before I’d made up my mind. Heck, I feel cruel now, bringing any of all that up when the two of you seem to have found something good with each other. And then the whole Jane break-up business happened and I felt so— it eats me up inside that I let him suffer like that because I’d been so damn caught up in my own head that I didn’t just talk to him.” 

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“But I could have done something and I didn’t. I could tell something wasn’t right and I didn’t stop it.” Ted pulled away from her embrace then, not wanting her to feel the anger thrumming in his veins. He should have done something. Anything. Instead, he’d just stood back and let it happen, ignoring every instinct in his bones telling him things were worse than Beard was letting on.

“You couldn’t have known how bad it was.” 

“But I did know, even if I had no way of being sure. I’ve known the man for thirty years, Rebecca! Of course, I could tell. I should’ve done something. Anything at all.” 

“He told me it was twenty-eight.” 

Ted blinked, surprised she even knew that, and then huffed sort of awkwardly. “Yeah, well. I didn’t wanna make it seem like I’d been counting.” 

She smiled at that, her eyes fond, and he felt so loved by her. He still didn’t entirely understand how that could be possible after everything, but instead of trying to make sense of it, he just tried to be grateful.

“Just… let me own it, please. I know I tend to beat myself up, but even though it’s in the past, and I’m never gonna know whether I could’ve done anything to help you out of it, I played a part.” 

“I forgive you,” Beard said. 

Ted moved away from Rebecca to see him, standing just behind her in the doorway. Ted wondered how much he’d heard. Maybe just that last part. Maybe all of it. Ted supposed it didn’t matter either way. He would gladly repeat every word. 

“Sorry if all that oversharing was a little much. I know you two are trying to build something here. I don’t want you thinking I’m trying to get in the way of things.”

“You’re not. If we thought you were in the way, we wouldn’t have asked you to come.” 

“Right. I guess, you two getting together solves that entire dilemma for me, huh? You’re both taken, but I don’t even mind ‘cause you’re both with the best person I could’ve ever hoped to see you with.” He meant it, or at least he wanted to mean it. He figured he’d get there eventually, somewhere down the line after the heartache tearing through his chest subsided. At least, they were adamant that they still wanted him around, which was more than he’d dared hope for. It was a privilege, being their friend, being loved by these two perfectly imperfect people. If that wasn’t a thing to be grateful for, he didn’t know what was.

“Ted, you’re shaking,” Rebecca said. “Are you sure you don’t want to come back inside? Just for a little while.”

He wanted nothing more. That was why he’d left in the first place. He couldn’t shut off the part of his brain that only wanted to be close to them. “If I’m ever gonna get over you, you gotta give me some time.”

Beard shook his head. “I told you, Coach. We’re not asking you to get over anything. Just come inside.”

Ted was cold, and he wanted to talk, and there was something in the way they were both looking at him that would have made it impossible to walk away in any case, so he followed them inside, trying to steady his breath when Rebecca took him by the hand, leading him inside. 

“I’m not entirely sure what it is you want from me here,” Ted admitted while Rebecca helped him out of his coat. She gave him that kind smile she sometimes gave him when she’d decided that he was being a bit of an idiot, and went to hang it up for him. He found it hard to look at her in this space, the very room where he’d let her down as best as he could a week ago. He didn’t quite understand how it had happened, but so much seemed to have changed since then.

“You remember when I lived in Germany for a summer and dated those ballroom dancers?” Beard asked. 

“Uh, yeah?” Ted replied, unsure of what that had to do with anything.

“You told me that you couldn’t ever do that. Date two people at once. It made about as much sense to you as cheating did. Because you had Michelle and that was all you’d ever need.”

Ted gulped. “Look, Coach, if you’re asking me if I had feelings for you back then, I couldn’t tell you. I was pretty good at burying it all down back then.”

“But did you mean it? That you couldn’t ever do that?”

“I mean, well, yeah,” Ted said, but he suddenly wasn’t so sure of what he was saying. Did he really believe that? Or had he just always assumed that about himself, just like everything else he would have sworn he knew about himself before he came here? “I’m, uh— a pretty monogamous guy.”

Rebecca laughed sort of ruefully. “Beard told me you’d say that, but… we just wanted to let you know that if you’d be open to adjusting your feelings on the matter, we’d be open to—” She hesitated, trying to find the right words. “We’d be open.” 

Ted tried to say something to that, but didn’t quite manage it, his brain still trying to play catch-up with everything that was being said. He was starting to feel something though, stirring in the pit of his stomach — a swelling warm feeling that seemed to boil over within him. He was starting to wonder if that feeling might not be hope. “Uh, and what are your feelings about all this, Coach?”

“I love you,” Beard told him, simply, matter-of-factly, his tone no different from any of the hundreds of times he’d said it before. 

“I love you too, you know that.” Ted told him, on instinct, but there it was again. Hope.

“No,” Beard shook his head in frustration and then looked at him. “For once in your life, let me take the lead for you. I love you.”

Ted nodded, willing himself to believe what Beard was telling him. Here it was, clear as day, the option he hadn’t even let himself consider, the thought that maybe everything he wanted was right in front of him if he was just able to let himself believe that he deserved it.

“I know you think it makes me all sexually liberated that I’ve had multiple partners. But you really don’t have to be all that cool to do this. Dweebs do it all the time. And if you’re having such a hard time with this because you don’t feel the same way then—”

“Of course I do,” Ted told him right away. He didn’t even have to think about it, or to be more exact, he’d already thought about it. Had thought of little else for the past month or so. He’d known for so long, hiding the fact away, but trying to bury it the way he’d been so good at once didn’t feel like an option anymore. “I just thought that…”

“What?”

“Rebecca.” He turned to look at her, her name caught awkwardly in Ted’s throat. “Now that you two are—”

Beard looked pained. “Oh, Coach, don’t you get it yet? No one’s asking anybody to choose. We’re asking you out, Coach. Or, I guess we already asked you out. This is the part where we ask you to go steady.” 

“You’re serious?” Ted asked, but he was starting to run out of any other explanation. The swelling, feeling of hope kept on expanding inside him, making him feel queasy.

“I think you know me better than to think I’d construct a joke that poorly,” Beard told him with a smile. “It’s been done before.”

“So, what, exactly? We just… date? All three of us?”

“That’s the idea, yes,” Rebecca said, a soft smile on her face. “What do you say, Ted? Are you ready for an adventure?” 

“You’ve… discussed this? That’s why you invited me over?”

She looked a little embarrassed, but only a little. “Well, yes, but not entirely. We invited you over because we wanted to see you, because we both love you too much to accept any version of events where we wouldn’t get to see you anymore. We hoped it could be more, but we didn’t know if that was anything you'd be willing to try. And then we had a proper panic about it.” She gesticulated with her hands spread wide, fingers splayed in a movement that seemed to indicate that it was a “big” panic more than a severe one. 

Beard nodded. “Definitely some of that, yeah.”

Rebecca smiled fondly at him.

Ted looked between them. “Seems a tad complicated if you ask me.” 

“No less complicated than what we’ve already been doing,” she said. “Hiding away from each other, running in circles, doing somersaults in an attempt to dance around our true feelings. We love you.” She spoke the words so confidently on her own and Beard’s behalf. It was dizzying.

“I love you too. The both of you.” It was strangely easy, saying it out loud after all that time keeping it all to himself. He’d been so afraid of what they might think of him loving them both. There was a strange miraculous wonder in knowing that they understood because they’d felt it too. 

“Maybe we should get comfortable?” Rebecca suggested with a smile that reached her eyes, all twinkly and kind. Ted felt a heat creep up his neck before he realized she was gesturing at the living room. “It might be a good idea to sit down for a bit.” 

“Oh. Right, yeah. Maybe that’s a good idea,” Ted said with a cough.

Beard raised an eyebrow at him, clearly fully aware of what was going through his head. 

“I uh, was sorta nervous about what you were gonna suggest there,” Ted explained sheepishly. “It’s been a while, and I’ve never really… with a man, much less two people. Not that I don’t know about the logistics and all. I mean, you two have probably gotten up to all sorts of stuff. I’d feel awkward jumping into any of that right off the bat.”  

“We haven’t actually—” Rebecca started.

“We haven’t gotten to that part yet,” Beard finished for her. “This is all pretty new. We’ve been taking things slow.” 

“Oh.” Ted said, surprised. Beard had never been much for taking it slow before. “And me being here doesn’t make things… confusing for you?”

“We’re not confused,” Rebecca insisted, more defiant now. “I’ve been so fucking confused for so fucking long about everything, and then he came along”—she gestured to Beard—“and made it all the more fucking confusing for me. But I know what I want now. In fact, I’m sure of it. And I wouldn’t have asked you to consider any of this if I didn’t think there was a chance you’d accept. I chose to remain hopeful. You taught me the value of that, Ted. Do me the favour of having a little hope of your own, would you?”

“Heck, this is nuts. Here I am talking about love, and getting it on, and multiple partners and what have you, even though the two of us have never even kissed.”  

“Kiss me then,” she said, giving him that kind, twinkly smile again. It was that smile that had done him in for good. It was a wonder he’d ever been able to look at her smiling like that and feel anything but overcome with a tremendous, indescribable love.

Ted looked at her, a little stunned, not so much with disbelief as with the opposite of it. She hadn’t hesitated, not for a second, and Ted turned away for just a moment, only to find that Beard was nodding softly at him, something new and intriguing in his eyes.

“Look,” Ted started, “I’m not sure I can really—” But then it turned out that he could, because he was stepping forward, leaning into Rebecca, their lips meeting easily in the middle. He touched her side carefully, afraid that this was the moment he would wake up from the dream. Except the opposite proved to be true — her skin felt more real than his own.

When they broke apart, Ted was a little out of breath, but then he looked at Beard, who was touching Ted’s arm carefully, beckoning him closer, and it was suddenly so easy to move toward Beard, closing the distance between and then staying there, flush up against him as they embraced, his mouth at once familiar and like nothing Ted could have ever predicted. 

“Been wanting to do that for a long time,” Ted admitted when their lips parted, and he wasn’t sure if he meant this past month, or since he divorced Michelle, or if he meant the quarter of a century that had passed since their last kiss. He just knew that kissing Beard felt like the answer to a question he hadn’t even realized he was allowed to pose. 

Ted turned to look at Rebecca, half-expecting to find something horrified in her expression. A kiss like that felt too monumental, too calamitous to go by without leaving burn marks in its path. But the look on her face was pure desire. 

“You look good together,” she told them. 

Ted flushed. He kept waiting for the feeling to overcome him that would make it all feel wrong, but the feeling never came. All he felt was his own shallow breathing, the heat running through his body and creeping up his neck. And a lightness too, a soft fluttering in his stomach, like young love, like old love, like the first day of school, like something far less terrifying, a routine he wouldn’t mind falling into. 

Beard took Ted’s hand, moving back, leading him toward the staircase.

“I thought we were headed for the living room?” Ted asked, confused.

“Fuck the living room. It’s your fault for giving me ideas,” Beard said, and Ted couldn’t help but smile. His can-do attitude was one of the reasons Ted loved him. 

Ted looked back at Rebecca, who was already behind him, nudging him forward.

“You let us know if it’s too much, won’t you?” She asked as they moved up the stairs. 

Ted nodded, but even though he was overcome with such a jumbled-up mixture of emotions that he hardly knew how to make sense of them, he didn’t feel overwhelmed by them at all. “I will, but, I think it’s like you said. Maybe sometimes, a lot can be just what you need.” 

Only then, they were entering Rebecca’s bedroom, and Beard was pulling Rebecca into an embrace, and Ted’s brain short-circuited for half a second, making him feel like maybe he’d pass out any minute now. But he didn’t. He just stood, watching enraptured as they kissed. 

They’d clearly done it before, moving their hands across each other’s bodies with careful, studied patience. With the way things were starting to feel heated up, Ted had expected Rebecca to be just about ready to rip Beard’s clothes off, but instead, she seemed hesitant as she moved, checking in with Beard every once in a while by getting him to squeeze her hand or look her in the eye. Each time she did, Beard would offer her a careful smile. “I want this, don’t worry,” he whispered, voice so soft Ted barely caught the words. 

“I just like making sure you’re enjoying yourself.”

“Oh, I am,” he said with an almost leery flirtatious lilt that made Ted’s stomach do flips. As if sensing the gymnastics team jumping all around in his stomach, Beard looked over in his direction. “Coach? Wanna join in?” 

Ted stepped nearer, and they opened up to make room for him between them, Rebecca facing him, while Beard slowly moved in from behind, touching him carefully at the sides in a way that made Ted shiver.  

“Are you nervous?” Rebecca asked.

“Oh, yeah, tremendously so,” he replied with a smile, echoing her words from earlier in the night, and then added an attempt at a wink to assure her that the intense fluttering in his stomach was with all the right kinds of butterflies. “But mostly, I was just standing back a little to appreciate the view.”

He looked down at her body, trailing a careful hand down along her hips, marveling at the feeling of the curvature he’d quietly, guiltily admired from a distance for so long. 

“We told you. You’re welcome here.” Slowly, she grabbed hold of his hand, directing it from her hip and across her thigh, moving it between her legs, until he could feel the already damp fabric. “You belong here.”

When Beard pressed a warm kiss to Ted’s neck, and Rebecca let out a gorgeous sigh in response to Ted’s touch, he somehow didn’t doubt that it was the truth.