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Roy watches as Jamie fucking Tartt comes up to him at the gate and sits down next to him, despite there being plenty of empty seats in the first class lounge.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Did you think you were the only person who thought Marbella was a good holiday spot?” Jamie grins. “Nah, I talked to Keeley. She said she dumped you and thought you might need company after I asked her where I should go.”
“She didn’t dump me. We mutually decided - “
“That she would dump you?” Roy fucking hates Jamie’s face. It’s so fucking smug. “Welcome to the club, coach.”
“I’m going to chuck you out the emergency exit midflight.”
“Nah.” Jamie grins because he’s a fucking smug fucking twat dickhead prick. “Relax, Roy. This is going to be fun.”
Roy seriously doubts this is going to be anything resembling fun.
+++++
Roy is sitting by the pool with his book, enjoying the time away from fucking Jamie.
It’s actually not as bad as he’d expected when Jamie showed up at the airport. It’s good to have fucking company, even if that company is in the shape of an overgrown fucking manchild.
He immediately regrets even thinking that when Jamie runs out of the villa and jumps into the pool, splashing Roy and his book with water. He comes up out of the water and shakes his head, like a fucking labrador puppy who’s just discovering water for the first time. Roy hates him.
Jamie swims over to the edge of the pool and grins.
“Are you ever going to actually get in the pool? What’s the fucking point if you’re not.”
“I like doing this.”
“Boring,” Jamie says. He rolls his eyes and rests his arms on the edge of the pool, sitting his chin on his arm. He looks fucking stupid. Roy is not getting used to his fucking face. “You’re not even taking your fucking shirt off. What’s the point of Spain if you’re just going to wear a fucking shirt the whole time?”
“I’m making up for the fact that you think clothes are optional at all times.”
“We’re in a private villa,” Jamie says with a shrug. “I’m a fit footballer. Why should I wear clothes all the time?”
Roy rolls his eyes. He turns his eyes back to his book but it’s fucking wet now, so he just drops it into his lap.
“You ruined my book.”
“It was a favour. Come into the pool Roy. It’ll be fun. Stop being such a fucking grandad. Is this why Keeley dum–”
“Keeley didn’t dump me. We wanted different things. It was –”
“Mutual, I know.” Jamie rolls his eyes like he doesn’t believe Roy. Maybe he’s right, but Roy is never going to fucking admit that to Jamie. Fuck that.
“I’m going inside.”
“Whatever, grandad. Have fun being fucking boring.” Jamie does a backflip in the water and then jumps back out of it and pushes his hair slick back. He thinks he’s fucking hot, but he’s not. He’s just - whatever.
Roy goes inside.
+++++
“How come I never knew you could cook before?” Jamie says as he shovels pasta into his mouth. It’s disgusting.
“Why would you know that?”
Jamie shrugs.
They’ve been in Marbella for about a week, and being around Jamie is getting less annoying every day. It’s really fucking with Roy’s sense of reality. Admittedly, since breaking up with Keeley a lot of the reasons he’s hated Jamie seem to have faded away, but still. He’s a little prick who’s fucking full of himself and Roy doesn’t need him.
“We should go out somewhere.”
“Why the fuck do we have to do that? The whole point of a private villa with a fucking pool and everything we could need is to not have to go out.”
“But that was when you booked it as a romantic holiday for you and Keeley. I’m bored. Let’s go somewhere.”
“You don’t fucking need me to go out, Jamie.”
“Maybe I want you to go out with me.” Jamie taps his fork on the plate and sort of pushes his food around. He’s not making eye contact. It’s fucking weird, and Roy feels like something has shifted.
“What the fuck?”
“Nothing. Fuck off.” Jamie drops his fork onto the plate with a clang and pushes up out of his chair. “I’m going out. Don’t wait up, grandad.”
Jamie practically runs out of the villa, and Roy is so fucking confused.
He also absolutely doesn’t worry when Jamie is out for hours or when he goes to bed and Jamie still isn’t back.
Roy does not fucking care.
+++++
“What’s up your arse?” Jamie splashes water out of the pool onto Roy. He’s already put his book behind his back where Jamie can’t ruin it. Roy’s just laid back in the lounger with sunglasses on.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“You won’t fucking go out and have fun, but I did it on my own and you’ve been acting like a pissy little bitch for two days.”
“Fuck off, Tartt.” Roy does not need Jamie Tartt trying to analyze his behavior.
“Nope.” Jamie pushes himself up out of the pool and walks over to stand over Roy. He’s wearing a fucking ridiculous little thing that feels pointless to have on at fucking all. Roy hates him. “Are you jealous?”
“Of you?”
“Because you think I went home with someone a few nights ago? I did, by the way, and it was fucking great, and I wouldn’t have if you’d gone with me.”
“You’re a twat.”
“You’re a prick.”
Roy grunts and closes his eyes so that he doesn’t have to look at Jamie’s ridiculous fucking body that’s looking more fucking tan by the day.
“Come out with me tonight, Roy!” Jamie’s voice sounds further away. “Don’t be a prick!”
Roy hates him.
Roy hates him.
+++++
Roy fucking hates clubs. He hates the noise and he can’t see very well in the dark. He lost Jamie about twenty fucking minutes ago, and if the little twat leaves him here Roy is going to fucking kill him. He might do that anyway, if he has to listen to this god awful music for ten more minutes.
“There you are!” Jamie runs up to him and lays an arm over his shoulder. Jamie has lost his shirt. Roy hates him.
“You fucking disappeared.” Roy glares at him, but Jamie just grins in response.
“Dancing. Come dance, Roy.”
“I do not dance.” Roy definitely doesn’t dance, especially not in public, and definitely not to this God-fucking-awful music.
“You’re so fucking boring.” Jamie sighs. “Come on, then. Take me home.” He drops his chin onto Roy’s shoulder. “If you’re not going to dance you should just take me home.”
There’s something in Jamie’s voice that Roy wants to ignore, but fuck. This mother fucker knows what he’s doing. He absolutely knows what he’s doing, running around the fucking villa naked as much as possible and trying to break down all of Roy’s very carefully constructed fucking walls.
“Fine,” Roy growls. “Let’s go.”
Jamie grins and wraps his fingers around Roy’s wrist to drag him outside.
They get a taxi back to the villa, and there’s this weird fucking energy coming off of Jamie in waves. Roy has no fucking clue what’s happening. He’s not sure he wants to know, but he’s probably going to find out anyway.
As soon as they get inside Jamie closes the door and presses Roy against the door.
“What the fuck?” Roy’s voice betrays him in a weird way because he wants to sound angry but he just sounds confused.
“Come on, Roy. You are the most fucking oblivious fucking twat I’ve ever met in my fucking life.”
“I’ll fucking show you oblivious, you little twat.” Roy doesn’t give Jamie a chance to respond before he wraps his fingers around the back of his neck and presses a kiss to his lips. Jamie makes a surprised sound that pisses Roy off. He has no right to act fucking surprised.
“Fucking finally.” Jamie mumbles against Roy’s lips before kissing him again.
Roy’s head feels a bit fuzzy in the best kind of way. He had no idea how much he’s been waiting to kiss Jamie but now it feels like everything in his life is coming together in the best possible way.
“You’re such a prick.” Jamie presses his fingers under Roy’s shirt, presses them hard into his skin. It drives Roy a bit mad. “I thought I was going to have to write a fucking book about wanting you to fuck me.”
“I’d fucking love to see you try to write a fucking book.” Roy laughs, letting his head fall back against the door. Jamie presses his lips to Roy’s neck and then laughs, hot and breathy against his skin.
“Tou-fucking-che.” Jamie kisses Roy’s pulse point. Roy can’t feel it, hot and intense. “Don’t have the fucking attention span for that kind of shit. This is more fun anyway. I think I’d rather just show you like this.” Jamie scrapes his teeth over the skin there.
Roy does not give him the satisfaction of making a fucking sound.
“Don’t leave any fucking marks.”
Jamie laughs against his skin. Roy hates him, but he’s fucking hot. Jamie presses another kiss to Roy’s lips and then drops to his knees.
Roy stops thinking about much of anything after that.
+++++
“Get in the fucking water.” Jamie splashes him. “I’ll let you fuck me in the pool.”
“I could just fuck you in bed later,” Roy says as he turns the page. He’s gotten really good at shielding his book from Jamie’s watery wrath.
“Booooooring.” Jamie rolls his eyes. “Come on, Roy.” Jamie swims over to the edge of the pool. He fucking pouts. He pouts with his eyes and his lips and his stupid fucking face. Roy hates him.
“Fuck.” Roy closes his book and drops it beside the lounger. He tugs his shirt off and throws it as he jumps in the pool. “If you fucking tell anyone that I gave in this easy to your fucking face I will deny it until the day I die.”
“Our little secret, grandad.” Jamie grabs his shoulder and pulls him in for a kiss. “Now please, please get your cock out.”
Roy laughs and presses Jamie back against the ends of the pool.
Roy hates him, but sometimes lately he doesn’t seem to hate him quite as much.
+++++
Jamie is stretched out beside him in bed, texting someone. Roy tries not to think too hard about it. He’s sure Jamie’s just in this for the fun holiday sex, and it’s not like Roy is really thinking about fucking dating Jamie or anything like that. Fuck, that’s stupid. Jamie is not his fucking boyfriend.
“You look pissed about something.” Jamie puts his phone down on the table beside the bed and rolls over. “What the fuck did I do wrong?”
“Nothing.” Roy grunts.
“You want attention.” Jamie laughs. “Jealous fucking weirdo.” He leans over to kiss Roy. Roy hates him. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist, coach. Was just texting the lads. Told ‘em I had a fit holiday fling. They’re all very fucking jealous.”
“Don’t tell the fucking squad we’re fucking.”
Jamie rolls his eyes and kisses Roy again. This time there’s a little something behind it that Roy can’t place. It’s fucking good. He tries to push down any thought that he wants to do this beyond Marbella. They have a few weeks left, and he just needs to get this out of his fucking system.
He needs to get fucking Jamie Tartt out of his fucking system.
+++++
“What’s going to happen in a couple of weeks?”
It’s literally been less than five minutes since they finished, and Jamie is already asking Roy to think. It’s fucking annoying.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, this is fun, yeah?” Jamie scoots closer to Roy but reaches over to tug on a bit of his chest hair instead of doing anything fucking sensible. “It’s fun and fucking, like, it’s fucking nice, right? So why do we have to stop just because we’re back in fucking England?”
“You said yourself this is a fucking holiday fling, Jamie.”
“But it doesn’t have to be. Like, you like fucking me. I like fucking you. Let’s just keep fucking.” Roy suspects this entire conversation means more than Jamie’s acting like it means. He doesn’t want to call attention to it though. That might actually just make things worse.
“Jamie - “ Roy sighs. He wants to say fuck no and that is a terrible fucking idea on top of the whole i’m your coach thing there’s a million fucking reasons it’s a terrible idea. He doesn’t. Instead he looks Jamie in the eye and rests a palm to the back of his neck before pulling him in for a kiss.
Kissing Jamie is really fucking good. Being near Jamie is really fucking good. He tries to ignore the voice in his head saying he could do this for-fucking-ever.
+++++
“Have you ever thought about getting married?”
Jamie is swimming around Roy in the pool. Roy doesn’t put up a fight anymore doing things with him. Jamie might be a twat, but he’s a twat that reminds Roy that it’s okay to have a bit of fucking fun sometimes.
“Like, in the general sense? I don’t fucking know. Seems like a lot of fucking trouble.”
“Yeah,” Jamie says. “You’re right. Just, like, sometimes you fucking know, right? Like if you love someone?”
“I don’t think falling in love means you have to give up your fucking life to them.”
“What a fucking dark way to look at marriage.” Jamie laughs. “Have you always been this cynical.”
“What has gotten into you, Jamie?”
“Did you think about marrying Keeley?”
“We are not talking about Keeley. Not now, not ever.”
“That’s fair.” Jamie swims around him again. “How do you know if you’re really in love with someone then? Cause I always thought, like, it was about wanting to spend the rest of your life just fucking being around them, you know? Like if you find someone who’s really fucking good at sex and is fit and makes you laugh, then you marry them because you want to do that forever.”
“That seems like a really fucking simple way of putting something complicated.” Roy wonders if it’s really more complicated, but he refuses to admit Jamie could be more wise about this.
“Nevermind,” Jamie says. He sounds bored. “Let’s go inside. I’m hungry.”
He jumps out of the pool and wraps a towel around himself. At least he’s learned to dry the fuck off before he drags whatever into the house.
“Cook me dinner.”
“Yes, sir.” Roy says, making sure that his voice is dripping with all of the fucking sarcasm he can manager. “You’re fucking lucky I - “ He cuts himself off before he says anything fucking stupid. They’ve been sleeping together for fucking less than three weeks.
“Lucky you what?” Jamie smirks. “Go on then, Roy, say it.”
“You’re lucky you have a beautiful fucking cock. Go inside.”
Jamie throws his head back laughing and runs inside. He still gets a trail of water leading to the fucking kitchen. Roy suspects Jamie knows what he almost said.
+++++
Roy wakes up alone and it’s fucking weird. He usually wakes up with Jamie plastered against him, hot and feeling guilty for wanting to push him off. This feels weird and unsettling. Roy doesn’t like it. He’s about to go look around for him when Jamie comes back and crawls under the blankets.
“Did I wake you up?” Jamie settles back against him. “Sorry.”
“No, just didn’t know where you’d gone.” Roy pushes some hair off Jamie’s forehead. He’s really fucking beautiful. Three weeks ago, Roy would have pushed the thought aside, but the longer they do this the less resolve he has. He doesn’t want to stop doing this with Jamie when they go back home.
Jamie smiles. He lets out a soft hum and leans in to kiss Roy.
“Glad you care, grandad.”
“Are you going to call me that forever?”
“Depends,” Jamie says. “Are we going to do this forever?” Jamie practically whispers it so quietly Roy isn’t sure he hears him properly. “Last I checked you didn’t buy into all of that bullshit.”
“I - “
“It’s okay, Roy.” He laughs. “Not an interrogation. Just joking.”
“Wait, no. I believe in that bullshit.” Roy knows he’s making a fucking mistake. He knows it. “I believe in it.”
“So you don’t think loving someone forever means giving up yourself to them?”
“This feels like a fucking trick.”
“Maybe it is. Maybe it’s Marbella.” Jamie laughs. “Nevermind. Fuck.”
“Jamie, can you fucking say words that make sense?”
“Just been thinking about things like. I know you started to say that I’m lucky you love me the other day. I fucking know it.”
“Fuck.”
“Not a denial.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Seems fast,” Jamie says. “Fuck, you know like, you hear about fucking summer fling bullshit and whirlwinds and - I thought it was all bullshit. Never felt like this before.” Jamie sighs. “It would be nice, wouldn’t it? To fucking wake up together at home - to wake up together every day for the rest of - whatever.”
“Jamie.” Roy sighs. “What are you saying?”
“Nothing. Let’s go to sleep, Roy.” Jamie settles against Roy. “Let’s go to sleep.”
Roy doesn’t think he wants to go to sleep but if Jamie isn’t already sleeping he’s doing a really fucking good job of pretending.
+++++
Roy has Jamie pressed up against the wall of the shower as hot water sprays down on them. They have a week left in Marbella, and it doesn’t feel like enough time. Roy doesn’t let go of this, but he doesn’t know how to say that. It seems so much easier for Jamie.
“Fuck.” Jamie laughs. “I can always fucking tell when you’re thinking. Can you fucking tell me what you’re thinking.”
“I don’t - “
“Are you going to break this off?” Jamie sounds hurt. Roy hates it. Roy doesn’t hate Jamie. “Can you just fucking do it now?”
“I’m not - “
Jamie lets out a soft whimper and pushes close to kiss Roy, and Roy feels the force of all of Jamie’s fucking emotions. It’s so much. It’s a lot. It makes him dizzy. It overwhelms him. He needs -
“Marry me.” The words slip out before Roy can stop himself. He knows it’s fucking stupid. He knows it’s a mistake.
He knows he never wants to let Jamie go.
“Roy?”
“Fuck, Jamie. You’re right. I don’t want to let this go.” He can feel his hands shaking. “I don’t want to go home and fucking forget this. I want to do this every day for the rest of - fuck, for-fucking-ever.”
Jamie looks like he might say something but he kisses Roy again.
“Yes.” Jamie murmurs against Roy’s mouth, and Roy feels the vibrations. It’s fucking - “yes, yes, yes.”
They don’t talk much after that.
+++++
“We should do it here,” Jamie says. “I looked it up, and I think we can just do it here.” Jamie’s laying with his head on Roy’s chest, on his back, scrolling his phone while Roy reads with one hand and has his other hand in Jamie’s hair. It’s probably fucking gross, but it’s comfortable, and Roy meant what he said. He wants to do this forever.
Gross.
“You just want to go home married?”
“Yeah, why not.” Jamie rolls over onto his stomach. “You’re not already changing your mind, are you?”
“Fuck no. I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t mean in. Let’s do it.” Roy puts his book down and pulls Jamie against him. “Let’s get married.”
Jamie grins.
“Let’s get fucking married.”
+++++
The actual wedding is the least romantic thing on the fucking planet, definitely not something Roy is going to think about telling any potential grandchildren some day.
The wedding night, however, is one for the fucking record books.
+++++
Jamie has so much fucking shit. He insists on moving all of his shit into Roy’s house when they get back, even though they haven’t even really discussed if they’re going to fucking tell anyone about all of this.
He hasn’t even fucking told his sister. Fuck.
After they get home, it really fucking hits Roy the implications of getting married on holiday in Spain to a man that as far as anyone knows he can’t fucking stand. He’s Jamie’s fucking coach.
They should probably tell Rebecca, or at the very least Ted.
“You’re already overthinking everything.” Jamie stands over the bed, fresh from taking up more than fucking half of Roy’s closet with his fucking ugly clothes. “I can tell.”
Roy grunts up at him.
“Roy.” Jamie sits back on his thighs and presses his hands to Roy’s hips. “Don’t fucking act fucking weird now. You said you wanted this.”
“I fucking did fucking want this, it’s just - “
“It’s just what?”
“There’s so fucking much to do. We haven’t told anyone. We have training on fucking Monday. I’m your fucking coach.”
“I don’t really need to be coached on fucking, do I?” Jamie grins.
“Fuck off, twat.”
Jamie sticks his tongue out at Roy and then laughs. He’s such a beautiful little twat. Roy wishes he still hated him because the feeling in his belly is too fucking much sometimes. Jamie doesn’t say anything, just leans down to kiss Roy.
Roy doesn’t think much after that.
+++++
“Isaac asked me to go out after training tomorrow,” Jamie says. “Team bonding and that.”
“To the club?”
“Well, yeah. Where the fuck else would we go?” Jamie rolls his eyes. “First outing of pre-season.”
“And?”
“Do you mind if I go?” Jamie rolls his eyes.
They haven’t told anyone about being married yet. They’d talked about at least telling the other coaches and Rebecca, but in the end decided it could wait just a bit longer. Roy really fucking enjoys their little bubble anyway.
“You can fucking hang out with your fucking friends, Jamie.”
“Good.” He grins and kisses Roy. “Glad you’re not being a jealous twat. I promise to come home to you.”
“You’d better come home to me!”
Jamie laughs and starts running off to the shower, shedding his clothes as he goes. Roy rolls his eyes and follows.
“Pick up after yourself! Fuck!”
“Why do that when I know you’ll do it for me!?”
Roy grunts to himself and drops Jamie’s dirty clothes in with the rest and then follows him into the shower.
+++++
It’s fucking late and Jamie isn’t home. Roy knows he’ll be home, knows he’s just out with the team, but fuck. They’ve spent almost every moment together for two fucking months, and they’re married, and Jamie isn’t fucking home.
Roy goes to bed and tries not to be angry when Jamie doesn’t answer his calls or his texts. He’s not trying to be a dick. He just wants to know when his fucking husband is going to be fucking home.
It’s shit.
A text finally comes through just as Roy is going to sleep.
coming home isaac took all our phones fucking twat
Roy sighs and feels his anger melting away. It should make him even more angry that Jamie has crawled under his skin in ways no one fucking has. It feels like more time than necessary passes before Jamie gets home.
“Rooooy.” Jamie comes upstairs and grins. “Hi.”
Roy learned in Marbella that Jamie doesn’t drink much, but it looks like he’s at least had a couple of beers tonight. He looks soft, a bit rumpled from dancing, and he looks happy.
“Hey.”
Jamie falls into bed and kisses him.
“Missed you.” Jamie grins. “Isn’t it weird being away from each other now?”
“Bit weird,” Roy says. “Next time Isaac is gonna take your phone can you let me know?”
“Were you jealous?”
“Fuck no.”
“Don’t worry, Roy. No one else can do that thing with their cock.” Jamie grins and kisses him again. “Only one grandad for me.”
“Fuck off.”
“You fuck off. Better yet,” Jamie says. “Fuck me.”
Roy knows he had more things to say, but he can’t think of them anymore.
+++++
“It feels like I’m lying to everyone,” Jamie says.
They’re sitting at the table eating dinner after training. It’s a couple of weeks in and they have a pre-season friendly against Palace coming up.
“Do you think we’ll ever, like, I don’t know. Actually tell anyone we’re married?”
“Jamie - “
“Fuck, Roy. Reynolds is trying to get me to go on a date with his fucking sister?” Jamie sighs. “It’s fucking weird. We’re married, and I can’t even tell my friends I live here because they’d ask why I live with our fucking coach and it’s not like I can make up some excuse about, like, fucking money or something.”
“Ja-”
“Are you fucking ashamed of me?”
“What?”
“I don’t know. There’s a fucking reason you won’t tell anyone.”
“Yeah, it’s no one’s fucking business.” Roy sighs. “It’s fucking football, Jamie. Do you really want our season to start off, our season back up in the Premier League, mind, with a fucking gay marriage scandal?”
“Scandal.”
“Jamie.”
“Nope, I get it, Roy. It’s fine.” Jamie pushes his fork around on the plate. “A fucking scandal.” He laughs to himself. “Fuck. I’m so fucking stupid.” He stands up. “I’m going to take a shower. You’re not fucking invited.”
Roy knows he’s fucked up, but he doesn’t know how to fix it, so he just starts cleaning up the kitchen.
+++++
It seems okay the next morning when they go into work - separately in their own cars, always. Jamie kisses him before they leave, even if he’s a bit quiet during breakfast and doesn’t say much during training either.
Roy doesn’t even really know who to go to about it, is the thing. No, the best thing to do is just let it pass. They love each other, and they’ll get through the little bump.
That’s all it fucking is.
A few days later, Maureen calls and asks Roy if he’s back from holiday, and if he wants to go to yoga. He checks with Jamie, who says he’s going out with the team anyway so, yeah, it’s fine.
He’s a few wines in with Lust Conquers All playing in the background. Janice is dating a new guy, ten years younger than her, and Roy just. He fucking needs someone to talk to.
“I got married in Marbella.”
“What!?” Maureen’s mouth is gaping open and the other ladies are all whispering behind her.
“I fucking know, and we haven’t even told anyone. He’s fucking - he’s a fucking twat.” Roy sighs. “I love him so much.”
“So what’s the problem?” Janice shrugs.
“I didn’t say there was a problem!”
“It sounds like there’s a problem.” Maureen reminds him of his mum sometimes. She just sounds so fucking concerned.
“He wants to fucking tell everyone, and I’m just not ready for that. I’m not ashamed of him like he thinks, I just - “
“You need time.”
“Yeah,” Roy says. He downs the rest of his wine. “I should go home. He’s out with friends, but I don’t want him to beat me there.”
“Talk to him, Roy.” Janice smiles. “One of the worst things you can do in a marriage is not talk to each other.”
Roy nods and then goes outside, before he calls the car to come get him.
Jamie’s already home when he gets in, dozing on the sofa. Roy goes over and kneels down beside it, resting his hand on Jamie’s arm. Jamie lets his eyes open. He’s so fucking beautiful.
“Hey.”
“You got home early,” Roy says.
“Boring. Everyone kept asking me why I wasn’t dancing with anyone.” Jamie pushes up onto his elbows. “How was fucking yoga and shit tv night?”
“Okay.” Roy leans in and kisses him, but Jamie doesn’t respond the way Roy felt like he would. It’s awkward.
“I just wanted to make sure you made it home. I’m going to go to bed.” Jamie kicks off the sofa. “Goodnight, Roy.”
“Yeah.” Roy frowns to himself. “Yeah, goodnight.”
+++++
“I think I want to change my name.” Jamie is sitting against the headboard, legs curled against his body.
“You mean, like, to Kent?”
“No to fucking Smith?” Jamie rolls his eyes. “We’re fucking married, and I don’t fucking - I hate him, and I don’t want his fucking name anymore. I want your name.”
“Jamie - “
“I fucking know. I can’t. It’s a fucking scandal.” Jamie spits the words out and it almost feels like a slap in the face. “Do you even fucking want to be married to me, Roy?”
“What the fuck?” Roy frowns. “Jamie, of course. Of course.”
“I just wonder sometimes, that’s all. We haven’t even told Rebecca or Ted, and you said we’d tell them.”
“Why do you need everyone to know?”
“Why are you so against anyone knowing?”
“I told the yoga ladies?”
It doesn’t get the reaction Roy expected.
“What the fuck?” Jamie looks angry. It doesn’t make sense. “So you can tell your friends, but I can’t tell mine? That’s so fucked up.”
“They don’t know who you are.”
“It’s not like Colin or Isaac are going to fucking run to Trent fucking Crimm and tell him we’re fucking - “ Jamie sucks in a breath. “I don’t understand. I think I need - I’m going to go stay at my old house for a couple of days. It hasn’t sold yet, so I still - fuck. I just need - fuck.”
“Ja-”
“No, please. Don’t fucking - stop.” Jamie rolls off the bed and grabs his duffle bag. “I think I need to just - “
“Don’t leave.”
“I feel like you only love me when we’re alone.” Jamie sounds smaller than he’s ever sounded. Roy doesn’t know what to do with it or how it makes him feel. “Why do you only love me when we’re alone?”
“I love you all the time.”
Jamie doesn’t say anything. He shoulders his bag, opens his mouth, and then he closes it again and just nods at Roy.
It’s the first time Roy’s slept alone since they started this thing.
He fucking hates it.
+++++
Jamie only talks to him at training the next day when he needs to, and he doesn’t come home that night. He doesn’t come home the next few nights.
Roy calls and texts, and Jamie seems to be ignoring him. It feels so fucking wrong. They were the only thing in each other’s worlds for weeks and weeks, and now Roy feels like he’s losing him.
Roy doesn’t want to lose him.
They’re off on Sunday, and that means Roy doesn’t see him at all.
He hovers over the call button on his phone and just fucking goes for it. He knows he’s being pathetic, but he misses his fucking husband.
His husband.
It goes to voice mail, and he knows Jamie’s probably deleting them, but he has to try.
“Please come home, Jamie.” Roy sucks in a breath. “Please come home. We can talk about whatever you want. I just want to wake up next to you tomorrow. Please.”
He hasn’t even hung up when the doorbell goes. He opens the door and it’s Jamie.
“Fuck.” Roy lets out a breath. “Fuck.” Roy pulls him close and wraps a tight hug around him. “Why the fuck did you ring the bell. This is your home.”
“I just came to get the rest of my stuff.” Jamie’s voice is soft and small. “I’m taking the house off the market. I just think - fuck, this seemed like a great fucking idea in Marbella. I couldn’t stop thinking of waking up next to you for the rest of our lives.”
“Jamie - “
“Please let me finish, Roy.” He sucks in a breath. “I just think we see it differently. I can’t be - I can’t - I have to go. I think we should just pretend it was some fucking holiday fling. It was fun, yeah? But we’re just not in the same place. Fuck.”
Roy wants to beg Jamie to stay. He wants to do all the things he didn’t do with Keeley because it’s different. Losing Jamie feels like losing a fucking arm - feels like losing football all over again - feels like he can’t breathe. He just stands there, staring as Jamie walks up the stairs.
Jamie comes back with another bag full of stuff.
“I’m going to come on the weekend and get the rest. I just wanted to - you can stop calling, stop texting. We’ll be fine. I just - “
“Jamie, you’re my husband. Don’t fucking do this.”
“Don’t make this hard.” Jamie sounds like it’s already hard.
Roy Kent doesn’t fucking beg. He can’t bring himself to beg.
“I’ll see you at training.”
Jamie ducks out and leaves without another word.
Roy calls in sick for three days.
+++++
It almost gets back to normal for the most part. They talk when they need to, and they’re a couple of weeks out before the season starts.
And then one day someone knocks on his door and gives him fucking divorce papers.
+++++
“Can you even get a divorce if you were only married for like, a fucking month?” Roy has basically had an entire bottle of wine. “Fuck, he won’t even talk to me. I miss him so much.”
“And you really have to see him at work every day?” Maureen feels sorry for him. Almost as sorry as he feels for himself.
“Fuck, every fucking day. He’s so beautiful. I don’t want a divorce.”
“Tell him.” Janice looks like she pities him, and it would usually make him fucking angry, but he wants their pity right now.
“He sent me fucking divorce papers.” Roy runs his hand over his face. “Fuck. This is why I said I fucking hate marriage. It’s all fucking bullshit. I have to go.”
He doesn’t wait for them to ask him to stay, just heads out to call a car. He can’t talk about this anymore. He wants to forget he ever fucking knew Jamie Tartt.
+++++
“Jamie, a word.” Roy takes his chances at training a couple of days later. He just can’t fucking let this fizzle out when it’s maybe the best fucking thing that ever happened to him.
Jamie whispers something to the squad and they all laugh as Jamie follows Roy out of the locker room. Roy makes sure no one is in the boot room and closes the door.
“Look, Roy - “
“Stop. I have something to fucking say.” He needs to get it all out before he doesn’t say anything, and he has to sign these fucking papers, and it’s all over. “I love you.”
“Roy - “
“No, I’m still talking.” Roy sucks in a breath. “Do you want to tell everyone? Jamie, we can tell everyone we have ever fucking met. I’m not ashamed of you. I miss you. You’ve been gone fucking weeks, and nothing smells like you anymore.” Roy closes his eyes. “Nothing smells like you anymore, and I fucking miss you. Come home.”
“We were only married for - “
“We’re still married. I don’t want a divorce, and I don’t think you want one either.” Roy steps up closer to him. “Please, Jamie. Tell me you don’t want a divorce.”
Jamie lets out a breath. It’s quiet, but Roy can hear it. The room is so fucking quiet.
“I don’t want to be a fucking secret. I want to change my fucking name. It doesn’t have to be - fuck, Roy, I don’t think we need to - if you’re not ready to fucking come out to the fucking world, I get it. I get it.”
“I should have talked to you,” Roy says. “I should have - but I didn’t, and that was shit of me. I was shit, but I don’t want to fucking lose you.”
“Fuck,” Jamie says. “I really was going to tell you to fuck off. It really wasn’t fair that you told your friends without even telling me.”
“They don’t know who you are, Jamie. It’s different.”
“We’re fucking married.”
“I know.” Roy sighs. “I’m not trying to fight.”
“We’re never trying, Roy. That’s why I just fucking sent you the papers. Because this happens. This happens.”
“I don’t want a divorce.”
There’s a tense moment until Jamie deflates.
“I don’t want a divorce.” He bites his lip and shifts from foot to foot for a moment. “Maybe I just wanted you to fucking pay attention to what I was saying.”
“I think I fucking paid attention when you left me and wouldn’t even talk to me in training.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Jamie bites at his thumbnail. “I can really come home?”
“Yes.” Roy reaches out to wrap his fingers around Jamie’s wrist. “Yes, please come home. Please come home.”
“The first thing I’m going to do is burn the fucking divorce papers in your fancy stove.” Jamie smiles, just small, tentative, but it’s enough.
“Our fucking fancy stove.” He tugs on Jamie’s wrist until Jamie is rested against him, and Roy wraps his arms around him. “I fucking love you.”
“I love you, too. Just - “
“I know.” Roy says. “I know. Come on.” He laces his fingers with Jamie’s. “Let’s go.”
“Now? You just want to walk out there holding hands?”
“Did you have something better in mind!? Want a three page spread in the fucking sun?”
“No, God.” Jamie laughs. “No.” He squeezes Roy’s hand. “Let’s go.”
+++++
They have a Burning The Divorce Papers Ceremony later that night and then Roy fucks Jamie over the kitchen table.
It’s pretty fucking perfect.
+++++
“Are you sure about this?” Jamie bites his lip? “Like, when I said I wanted to change my name - “
“Jamie, listen to me. I know what you meant. I know you just wanted to tell your friends. I know you just wanted to change your name for us, but this looks fucking perfect on you.”
They’re about to play a match against Chelsea - pretty fucking perfect, honestly, and Jamie’s dragged Roy into the boot room before Ted gives a big fucking speech about how they’re the fucking underdogs or some shit.
Jamie’s got his shirt on - Kent 9 emblazoned on the back. It’s pretty fucking amazing. They haven’t actually made any sort of public announcement, but they figure this is as good as anything else, now that they’ve told all the important people about their whirlwind marriage in Marbella.
Roy pulls Jamie into him and kisses him, even though they’d agreed with nearly everyone on a not married at work rule. Today just seems really fucking important. They’ve only played a handful of matches, but they’re doing fairly well in the table, in the upper half of the middle. This is the first time Jamie is going public as Jamie Kent.
Roy’s made sure to give Jeff the heads up, so he doesn’t have a fucking heart attack. He gave strict instructions not to tell fucking George, and he’d asked Jeff to make sure to send him a picture of his head exploding.
It’s not like it’s fucking perfect, but Roy had come fucking close to losing this thing with Jamie. He’s not planning on letting that happen any time soon.