Chapter Text
The first time Beard laid eyes on Ted Lasso, he thought he looked like a cop. His moustache was the victim of excessive grooming, giving it a more rigid appearance, and it hadn’t quite settled into his young face. A moustache like that in the hyper-masculine environment of college football did not bode well. Beard would later blame his initial wariness of Ted on the copstache.
“Howdy there! You must be Coach Beard!” Ted stood in the doorway with a box in his arms and a bright smile on his face. The kind of smile a cop might have if he were trying to gain your confidence. Beard peered over his copy of Paper Lion, raising one eyebrow in acknowledgement. “I’m Ted Lasso,” Ted continued. “Looks like we’re gonna be office buddies!”
He stepped forward and awkwardly shifted the box to his hip, extending his hand toward Beard. Whatever his reservations, Beard had never been one for outright hostility, so he lowered his book the rest of the way, reaching out to grasp Ted’s hand. “Welcome to the Kansas Wesleyan Coyotes, Coach,” he said.
“Well, how ‘bout that?” Ted said, his grin widening even more, giving his face an air of childlike glee. Beard’s guard faltered against his earnestness. “That’s the first time I’ve been called Coach since I got hired. Really makes it feel official, you know?”
Ted had stopped shaking his hand but hadn’t let go, still squeezing his fingers midair, like he was truly savoring the moment. Beard’s stomach swooped traitorously. He did know. Whatever issues he might have with some of the backwards attitudes of his colleagues, he loved the game, and he still got a thrill every time he stepped onto the field. And the one thing he knew for sure about Ted Lasso was that he felt the same.
Suddenly, Ted let him go with a sheepish chuckle. “Sorry, Coach. It’s just, I feel like Jesse Spano finally coming to terms with her very serious caffeine pill addiction ‘cause I’m so excited!”
Beard startled himself with his own laugh. Now that he really gave the moustache a better look, maybe it was a little more Freddie Mercury than copstache.
***
“Hey Coach, you got any idea what’s going on with Charlie lately?” Ted asked, spinning his chair around to look at Beard.
Beard scanned his brain for a second. McKinley. Number 40. Wide receiver. He usually memorized the roster by the players’ last names, numbers, and positions. He was a strategy guy, and it was pragmatic. But in the few months Ted had been working there, Beard had been forced to adapt to Ted’s insistence on using their first names. “Formalities ain’t never formed families, Coach!” Ted had told him before congratulating himself on coming up with such an insightful phrase on his own.
“He’s lost motivation on the field,” Beard said thoughtfully. “He’s defiant in practice. Like he’s got a chip on his shoulder. His attitude has him running laps more often than practicing.”
“Yeah, doesn’t really seem to be helping, does it?” Ted muttered almost to himself. He jumped out of his chair and popped out into the locker room. “Hey, Charlie, let’s go take a walk for a minute!”
When Ted came back, he didn’t mention McKinley…Charlie at all. Instead he said, “I had a fun idea! Why don’t we rearrange these desks so we’re facing each other? ‘Cause talking to you makes me feel like a 1980’s hit by Dead or Alive right now.”
“Cause I spin you round like a record?”
“Yessir! In my chair, that is.” Ted grinned, delighted as always at how good Beard was at this game.
“Sure, Coach.”
After they were done, they both sat back down, facing each other. “Now, this feels more like a team,” Ted said.
Beard nodded. It did.
Ted held his gaze like he wanted to say more. “Hey, you doing anything Sunday?”
And that’s how Beard found himself outside Charlie McKinley’s house with Ted Lasso holding a large casserole on a Sunday afternoon.
“Coach!” Charlie exclaimed in surprise upon opening the door. “And Coach! What are you doing here?”
“Sorry to disturb ya, but I know you got a lot on your plate lately, so I thought I’d bring over another plate…or I guess casserole dish in this case.” He laughed and pushed the dish into Charlie’s hands, completely undeterred at the baffled look he received in return. “Now, this is my mama’s recipe. Used to make it for me all the time. She calls it chicken cheese casserole, but it’s chock full of carrots, peas, broccoli and a couple other veggies too. I guess she figured if she didn’t mention them, I wouldn’t notice. Gosh darnit, if she wasn’t right! I cleaned my plate every time.”
“Charlie!” The voice of an older woman called from inside. “Who is it?”
“Don’t get up, Nana! I’ve got it!”
“Don’t you tell me what to do, boy! You’re not too old to take over my knee!” A small frail woman came into view, pulling an oxygen tank along with her.
“Nana, you’ve never laid a finger on me,” Charlie said fondly.
“Doesn’t mean it’s not too soon to start,” she shot back jovially.
Beard got the feeling this was a familiar bit between them. Ted looked at him with crinkled eyes like he was thinking the same thing.
“Well, hello there!” Ted exclaimed, extending his hand. “Now, don’t tell me this lovely young lady is Nana McKinley? I’m Ted Lasso, and this is Coach Beard.” Nana McKinley smirked and placed her fingers delicately across Ted’s, prompting him to dip down, bringing her hand up to brush a kiss across her knuckles, sweeping his other arm out to the side dramatically. She snorted as she pulled her hand back.
“I tell ya,” Ted continued. “You sure have done a fine job raising this young man. Boy howdy! It is an honor and a pleasure to be his coach.” A faint blush rose to her sunken cheeks.
Charlie was smiling watching the interaction. Beard realized he really hadn’t seen him smile in practice in weeks. “Nana, Coach Beard and Coach Lasso brought over some food for us.”
“Well, don’t you two just keep crowding up my doorway like a couple of facial-haired fire hazards, come on inside and tell me how my Charlie’s doing,” she said, turning to shuffle further inside before they could protest at all.
After a few hours and a plate of honestly delicious casserole each, Beard thanked them for their hospitality while Ted insisted he’d be by next Sunday with another one of his mama’s recipes since the casserole was such a hit.
“You could probably tell she’s not been doing so good lately,” Ted told him on the drive back. “Charlie’s doing everything he can to take care of her, but he’s got a job at the Piggly Wiggly he needs to support them too. I don’t know the whole story, but he gave the impression she’s the only family he’s got. I just want him to know he’s not alone here.”
Beard realized there were tears in his eyes. He suddenly felt a swell of gratitude at simply knowing Ted Lasso. “You’re a good man, Coach,” he told Ted, more emotion escaping into the sentence than he’d really intended.
When he looked over, Ted was grinning ear to ear. “Thanks for tagging along, Coach. I appreciate ya.”
***
Beard sighed heavily, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he tried to will his hangover away.
“You all right, there, Coach? You’re looking a little worse for the wear today.” Ted looked at him earnestly, ready to help however he could.
Beard shook himself from his thoughts. “Fine. Late night.”
Ted deflated a little. “Ok. That’s…ok.” Beard caught a flash of concern on Ted’s face.
A sliver of guilt crept its way in and lodged itself in Beard’s consciousness. They’d known each other for almost three years now. Beard loved Ted. What may have started as a crush had evolved into a fierce loyalty, close friendship, and even the occasional wingman situation. He trusted Ted. Except he hadn’t told him this one thing. At first there was no reason to, and Beard viewed pretty much all personal information as strictly need-to-know when possible. But the last month felt more like lying to his best friend than anything else.
“Andy and I broke up,” Beard said slowly.
Ted furrowed his brow in sympathy. “I’m real sorry to hear that Coach. I know I never got the chance to meet her, but you seemed like you really liked her, and that’s real tough.”
Beard opened his mouth and paused. Enough of this. Either he trusted Ted or he didn’t. “Him.”
“What was that?”
“Him,” Beard repeated more clearly. “I really liked him.”
Ted’s eyebrows popped up. “Right. Well, I’m sorry it didn’t work out for you and him.”
“Thank you,” Beard said, feeling the weight on his shoulders dissolving.
“Thank you for, you know…” Ted flapped his hand about as he found his words. “...Trusting me to be yourself with me.”
Beard smiled at him, closed lipped but warm and genuine. His best friend was really cool.
“So you’re…” Ted prompted before getting a panicked look on his face. “I mean, you don’t have to tell me any more, and maybe you don’t have a label, and that’s fine too, or you’re still figuring things out, and that’s ok, or if you just don’t–”
“Bisexual,” Beard interrupted, amused. “I’m bisexual.”
“Bisexual, right. That makes sense, ‘cause I’ve met some of your girlfriends.”
“Next time I have a boyfriend, I want you to meet him too.”
“I’d like that.” Ted smiled. “I don’t know why some folks make a big deal, you know? Who hasn’t had those feelings here and there? I mean I’m straight, but even my heart did a little pitter patter when I saw Liam Neeson with all that hair blowing in the wind in Rob Roy.” He chuckled.
“Uhhhh….”
“But honestly,” Ted continued, oblivious to Beard’s eyebrows now reaching for his hairline. “I know it can be hard opening up, and I’m truly honored.”
Beard had been the best man at Ted’s wedding to Michelle, and he knew Ted adored her and couldn’t imagine it any other way, nor would he want to. She made him incredibly happy. Still, he hoped his best friend might get the chance to sort through whatever that was about in his own way.
***
“Now, this just ain’t right, Coach! I’m flattered they wanted me, but you’ve been at this longer and know way more than I do! Heck, you recommended me to Wichita State to begin with! That head coach position has your name on it!” Beard watched in amusement as Ted flailed. “And I’m gonna go tell ‘em so! Yeah!” He started for the door.
“Coach!” Beard said sharply enough to halt his actions. Ted turned to look at him, eyes earnest but a little wild and lost. Beard walked over to face him and put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing tightly. “Congratulations, Coach. I’ve got your back. Always.”