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Jamie: Angry Men
Angry men had been a part of Jamie’s life long before his father had shown his greedy face again when Jamie turned 14. They were everywhere in the council estate, and his mother knew them too. Knew to make sure Jamie knew to stay away from them.
There were some that couldn’t be as easily avoided though. His grandfather who spent his last years with them, gradually forgetting who he was and that he loved them.
Jamie never set out to provoke anything, but the very sight of Jamie made a switch flip behind his grandfather's eyes in those last years.
There was still a picture of his grandfather on a mantel in his mum’s room, but the man in the picture looked nothing like what Jamie saw when he closed his eyes and thought of him. There was an angry distorted face and the sound of anything within the man's reach flying at Jamie, hitting the wall.
Despite sharing the same house, Georgie made sure Jamie didn’t meet his grandfather when it could be avoided, which became easier as the old man fell into immobility and became mostly confined to his own room. Jamie still cried at his funeral. He couldn’t help it. That was when crying had come easily and not been discouraged yet.
Another angry man came to their house shortly after, bearing flowers and chocolates and making his mum smile like the sun.
He only yelled at Jamie once where Georgie could hear it. Jamie didn’t have the heart to tell her it wasn’t the one and only time, but that was alright, because no other man showed up at home anymore, not until Jamie was much older. And Simon? Well, he was actually lovely, and Jamie was glad when he stayed.
The trainers and teachers at the Manchester City youth academy were some of the very best in the world, and Jamie knew from the moment he got his acceptance letter that this place could make everything better for him if he only stuck it out.
Methods varied at the academy, some instructors believed in drills and repetition, some in encouragement, and some believed that fear was a big motivator. The first time a coach told Jamie at age 8 that he wouldn’t make the cut for the next year, he had known not to cry already. It hadn’t ended in sympathy for anyone else who had, only indifference at best or ridicule at worst.
He did cry at home that night, but no one had to know that. Roy Kent looked down on him as he did, and Jamie wondered if Roy would laugh at him if he saw him like this. A part of him hoped he would, so he could just stop crying forever… and another part thought of Roy’s massive form leaning over the barricade that the security team had set up outside Etihad stadium to look down at Jamie. His mum had told him that of course they had to support Man City, but that Roy Kent was Jamie’s very favourite player, because Jamie had been struck mute by the sheer size of the man.
Roy Kent had nodded in approval and taken the marker and poster to sign from his mum very delicately and signed his name in a tight scribble.
“What’s your name?” He had asked Jamie after he handed it back.
“It’s uh, it’s Jamie.” He had just about managed to stutter out, his voice coming out so small that Roy probably barely heard it over the sound of other people talking to each other and other players at the barricades.
“Jamie, hm. Are you gonna be a footballer?” He asked, and Jamie remembered nodding, as if he could just become anything. Back then, he had still believed that.
“Alright, good lad. I’ll see you on the pitch one day then.” Roy said, giving Georgie a courteous nod and moving on.
“He’s very handsome, isn’t he?” He had remembered his mum saying on the way to the car. “Friendlier than I thought he’d be with all that glaring. Guess all that anger is just for the pitch, hm? Handwriting worse than mine though. Do you want to keep this safe or put it up on the wall?”
The poster had gone up onto the wall that very night, and it would stay there for another 20 years.
Roy: Men
Men were difficult. Roy was surrounded by men all his life, from morning to night, and he learned very quickly at Sunderland that that was where his thoughts of men should end. They didn’t, but lucky for him, he had learned at least a dozen words for guys who wanted other guys before puberty had really hit him, so he knew that what he thought at night was just for him to know.
It was easy enough to hide, because in a world full of stinky shoes and rough contact, girls turned out to be a breath of fresh air. Roy was tall at a young age, and apparently his quiet nature did something for certain types of girls. He never had to really try, so long as he was nice and attentive, which he wanted to be in the first place, things tended to work out well. Granted, it never lasted for very long, but he had a busy schedule and he doubted anyone ever missed him too much after a break-up. And that was just fine.
He kept his eyes on his own cubby as he changed, and once the worst of puberty was over, he could just tune out the naked bodies around him. Once his dick didn’t rise for absolutely everything and anything, it turned out that most people’s personalities were enough of a turn-off and he was safe.
Roy lived his best life. The women became more professionally beautiful, the kind of crowd that just loved a footballer and what dating one meant, and he liked to spoil people, so that worked out fine.
Until his 40s, he told himself that the ladies were enough, and that he’d done good, avoiding ever getting into anything that could end his career if someone found out with a guy.
And then Jamie Tartt kissed him in a dark side street on their way to Buns & Honey.
Jamie: Roy and Changes
Years and years of fighting, and now Jamie got to spend his days with Roy from 4 AM to 4 PM at the very least. It was a dream. Roy was a dream. He made Jamie’s heart pound out of his chest, not just with gruelling exercises that had made Jamie so fast he left the whole team in the dust while running drills. The way Roy looked at him, that mix of pride and affection, it made Jamie want to be his very fucking best in a way that even scoring a goal hadn’t ever done for him.
And Roy was kissing him back. He had gotten it right, this was a date. Jamie found himself up against a wall with Roy’s body pressed against him, kissing him and kissing him, and holding onto him so tightly. His beaming smile when they broke apart was met with a scowl though, and Jamie’s face fell when Roy asked if he was mad.
“You liked that too, don’t pretend you didn’t.” Jamie pointed out, heart sinking, and he fisted his hand into Roy’s leather jacket so he wouldn’t pull away. That didn’t happen though, Roy kept his grip on Jamie’s sweater.
“I’m your fucking coach.”
“Yeah so? You like me, even your family knows. Come on, just… let’s have dinner or whatever we were gonna do, and if you don’t want it we’ll pretend it never happened, yeah?”
If he had learned anything over the past year it was that Roy always needed an out. When things got heavy, Jamie needed to open a window of escape to let the pressure out. Roy never left when he wasn't backed into a corner, didn’t let anything boil up beyond what he could handle.
“Fine.” Roy let go and Jamie did the same, but he refused to let Roy get more than half a step away from him. “That was fucking stupid.” Roy added when they were in the elevator to the exclusive members-only bar.
“What do you mean?” Jamie asked, pleased that Roy was still standing close.
“I coulda decked you or something.” Roy pointed out.
“Why would you ask me out for drinks if you didn’t wanna kiss me?” Jamie asked and by the way Roy looked at him, his own jaw dropped in a mortified /oh/. This hadn’t been a date in Roy’s mind.
“Yeah, oh.” Roy agreed, stepping into the dark atmospheric bar area and trusting Jamie to follow him through. He did, and they found a place at the bar. By now, Jamie’s hands were shaking. Roy didn’t look properly angry though, just stiff. Jamie slid into the stool next to him.
“So if this weren’t a date, what was this all meant to be?” Jamie asked, taking a look around the place. There was maybe one party of friends, but everyone else seemed to very much be on a date. Roy seemed to realise the same thing as he took in the crowd.
Jamie found that intense gaze of Roy's on him and all he could do was try and keep his expression steady because he had no idea what Roy was looking for when he looked at him like that. Roy had given him a very similar long look at Ola’s when Jamie had first taken him up on the offer of being trained. Oh… Roy was trying to figure out if he really meant it.
“Come on, we have fun together.” Jamie pointed out.
“Is that what you want? Fun?” Roy asked, in that carefully calm tone.
“No, you dumb twat. I mean… we already do everything but fuck, and we get on well enough, don’t we? We could be dating and nothing would change except where we fucking sleep.” Jamie pointed out, because Roy was woven into the fabric of his life by now, and the idea of dialling that back to nothing but professional interactions was something Jamie couldn’t stand. No, he had to make this happen now, he’d pushed them over into this conversation, he had to get Roy to agree to be with him, or he had a feeling Roy was never going to look at him with that same warm look again.
Roy seemed to think and someone asked what they wanted to drink, so that was a welcome distraction. In some unspoken agreement, Jamie let Roy sit with his thoughts until their drinks arrived.
With a label to peel off the bottle in front of him, Roy seemed to find it in him to actually say something out loud.
“I’m so much fucking older than you.” He started.
“Yeah, so?” Jamie asked, not daring to take a sip from his beer yet.
“I’m your coach.”
“You were my teammate first, it’s not that weird, come on. We don’t gotta tell nobody." Jamie hoped that an offer of secrecy would take the worst pressure away. Of course, they’d have to be discreet.
“I’ve never been with a guy.” Roy threw out next, and /oh/ that was a surprise, actually, with how obsessed Roy seemed with his cock and balls some days.
“Right, yeah. It’s not that different. If you’ve done anal with a girl, it’s pretty much the same. Go slow, use loads of lu-“
“That’s not what I fucking meant.” Roy shook his head as if to clear it from that image. “I mean… I have no idea how to do this with a guy. I can barely manage a relationship with a woman.”
“Well, it’s not all on you, is it? You don’t gotta marry me, we’ll just try and see how it goes.” He shouldn’t have kissed Roy, what if he had ruined it all. The look on Roy’s face was full of doubt and Jamie slid off his barstool, more in a blind scramble than a calculated move, into the space between his and Roy’s seat to put himself closer.
Roy’s eyes went wide. “What are you doing?” He asked.
“Just… hug me for a minute?” His heart was beating way too fast and it felt like Roy was going to leave if he didn't do something.
“Fucking…” Roy gave in though, turning towards Jamie in his seat and allowing Jamie to wrap his arms around Roy’s middle, pushing himself in tight, until his face rested on a now-familiar spot on Roy’s shoulder. Fuck, Roy smelled good, why did he smell so good if this wasn’t a date?
Strong arms wrapped around him tightly, and Jamie closed his eyes.
Whatever happened, happened. At least he tried to shoot his shot? He just didn’t know what he’d do if Roy hated him for it.
“You actually want this?” Roy asked. “After everything?”
Jamie didn’t need a reminder of what ‘everything’ meant. They’d all but torn each other’s heads off for two years. An involuntary shudder ran through his whole body and Roy suddenly held him even closer. This really was a mistake, wasn’t it? What if they started to hate each other again? What if Roy stopped looking at Jamie the way he did now, like he was so happy to have him?
Jamie tightened his grasp on him. The only answer was ‘yes’. If he said ‘no’ now, it would all be over without them ever getting to try.
In the end, he had clung on long enough for Roy to take it as a ‘yes’ without Jamie having to say it.
“Alright then… I’ll be damned.” Roy said softly and Jamie found himself relaxing when he felt Roy’s breath and a surprisingly soft kiss to the side of his head.
“Go on then, let’s find us a booth.” Roy said, not asking him to let go, but eventually Jamie did.
That night, Jamie didn’t go home. To his surprise, nothing happened, nothing sexual that was. Everything changed though, because Roy’s bed with Roy in it, holding him, that was better than any other place on earth, and Jamie knew nothing would be the same anymore.
Roy: Dating Jamie
Seeing Dr. Sharon turned out to be a good idea, and one he should have probably had two years ago when Ted had first brought her on. She was a staple now and utterly discreet. Roy never told her the name of the man he was seeing, but she was the only person who knew that it was a man, and the first man Roy had ever been with.
He had a lot to unpack. That much was safe to say, and some days he was pretty sure that whatever baggage he lugged around with him was bottomless. There were questions posed that he couldn’t answer, like whether he thought his aggression on the field may in part have been brought about by an overcompensation, some need to firmly distance himself from the men around him and draw attention away from his desires.
By now, he had learned that Colin had come out to the team. Times really were changing. Dr. Sharon asked him how he felt about that, and Roy had to admit that he felt fucking resentful. He didn’t resent Colin, he was a good guy, he deserved to be happy, but fuck if Roy didn’t hate how much easier the young men around him had it in some ways. Not in others, there was so much more scrutiny, so many more eyes and cameras on them.
It’s why he never touched Jamie outside the house, not even at training. He hugged him when he did well on the pitch, like he would the other players, but he didn’t let his hands linger a moment longer than they needed to, and he didn’t squeeze Jamie tight the way he really wanted, not until they got home.
A part of him resented himself for not at least giving sex with men a shot before. Twenty years ago, the risks to his career would have been higher, but the odds of being caught lower.
Now he felt like a 40 year old virgin out of his depth, and he resented himself for that too.
Jamie was being fucking amazing about it, and that was hard to stomach too, the fact that there was no fucking pressure to step up and do well. At least if Jamie challenged or pushed him, he’d just get over himself and get on with it… but Jamie never asked for anything. Jamie just climbed into his bed at night, in a t-shirt and no bottoms, as was his habit, and curled himself around Roy.
He’d press close and kiss Roy until Roy eased them to a stop and gathered Jamie closer to go to sleep, never asking for more.
It was considerate in a way that would have shocked Roy a year ago, but now that he knew Jamie the way he did, he could actually believe that Jamie didn’t resent him for not being ready.
“He asked if he could give me a…. Is this weird for you?” Roy asked, sitting in the chair in Dr. Sharon’s office.
“I usually don’t focus on that part of people’s lives so much, but it does occasionally come up. Don’t feel inhibited.” She encouraged him matter of factly.
“Fine, alright.. he asked if he could blow me. And I said no." Roy said, incredulous with himself. "I mean, I’ve had a thousand blowjobs in my life. I don’t get why I said no. He’s hot, he’s probably good at it.” Jamie had let on that he’d been with other men before, so at least he had done all the things that would be new for Roy.
“Perhaps you feel an internal pressure to reciprocate. You’ve mentioned that you like to take care of your partners and spoil them. You enjoy their proximity. It’s perfectly normal to be nervous before your first time.” Dr. Sharon reasoned.
“But he’s not pressuring me.” Roy almost wished Jamie did. That first night he had taken Jamie home, he had had no idea what they were going to do once they got there. A part of him had wondered if he’d tell Jamie 'No' if Jamie asked to fuck him. Roy had halfway psyched himself up into just rolling with the punches and doing anything Jamie wanted… but Jamie had been so happy just being close and since then that feverish urgency to get it over with had faded.
“That’s good. It sounds like he really cares and thinks about you and your comfort. I also wouldn’t want to pressure someone I love. Or care for.” She added, because Roy’s face must have done something vaguely panicked at the idea of Jamie loving him.
“Have you talked to him about being nervous?” She asked, not for the first time.
Roy shook his head.
“You said that men always had an appeal to you, so the attraction to your current partner isn’t a surprise.” Dr. Sharon tried to pick him up from a different angle. “Repressing something you want for so long can build up a massive resistance to enjoy it once you get to have it. It’s forbidden, it’s fragile. You’re… not religious?" Roy shook his head and Dr. Sharon continued. "Not religious okay. That comes into play for some people, odd concepts of sin, but that’s not something you struggle with.”
“No. Well, not in the ‘going to hell’ way. Just… you couldn’t be like that. It wasn’t an option.” Roy explained.
“A threat to your livelihood, if not your soul. That’s powerful enough to put up some barriers, I’d say. You could let him know about that? How you experienced life as a young man attracted to other men. I’m sure he’ll understand, and maybe feeling understood will make you feel safer. But Roy, there is no pressure from your partner, that’s a good thing. It means you get to take your time and get it right. Most people don’t get that for their first experiences.”
Roy left the office feeling a familiar kind of settled and stirred up that was becoming his default post-therapy. That night, he cooked a lavish dinner for Jamie though, a quiet thank you, sealed into Jamie’s skin through a thousand kisses later in the evening.
In the dark, with the covers drawn up to their necks, it wasn’t so hard to talk about it.
Jamie: Physical
They won their first Champions League game the night that Roy pulled him in tight as soon as the hotel room door closed behind Jamie, and that night his kisses tasted different. Still like Roy, but less guarded. There was more intent behind his touches and Jamie let himself melt into them, didn’t question them lest he break some kind of bold spell.
They were in Amsterdam again and the atmosphere after their 2-1 win had been electric. Roy was happy, and that look of pride and love was so intense that Jamie almost hadn’t been able to bring himself to leave Roy’s side to celebrate with the team.
Now, Jamie was still damp from his shower and Roy was blissfully warm against his played-out tired body.
They had been taking things slow, and Jamie had enjoyed that. There was something special about being wanted without orgasms. Of course, he had wanted to get off with Roy, but those first weeks of shared space with Roy just holding him close all night had been something he had never experienced before. He had never changed the way he slept, a shirt and nothing else, it had all been out there, ready for Roy if he wanted anything, but Roy seemed to be content with just having him. Jamie.
This night in Amsterdam was different though and Jamie wondered if Roy had been thinking about their first night here too when the bus had taken them to the hotel after the game.
With one of the bedside table lamps on, they slipped under the covers, to keep Jamie warm, kissing and touching, hungry this time, in a way Roy hadn’t been since their very first kiss.
Tired as he was, Roy’s touches drew the last reserves of energy from him. Roy’s hand around his cock and that deep low voice of his asking what Jamie wanted, if he wanted to come, if he wanted Roy to make him come. What a fucking question, yes, only since he had first figured out how to masturbate.
He got to come in Roy’s hand, listening to whispers of how fucking brilliant he had been, his head swimming with love and want and exhaustion from a fucking fantastic game. And Roy still held him just as close after, all tension drained from their bodies, and Jamie slept so well he could have cried when the wake-up call came in the morning.
Things came more easily after that night. They flew home and Jamie stopped going back to his own place, his things having slowly migrated to Roy’s anyway. The routine remained, 4 AM, wake up, train, breakfast, mess around until they had to head to Nelson Road, training, lunch, training, home to Roy’s. The evenings were comfortable and sleepy. Between Champions League games and training, Jamie was usually just about ready to be horizontal when he made it home.
It felt like bliss though, his head in Roy’s lap, Roy’s food sitting warmly in his belly, and Roy’s kisses in the dark. Jamie couldn’t help but think how lucky he was.
Roy: Bliss
“I’m gonna fuck it up.” Roy told Dr. Sharon one day, halfway through the summer.
“What makes you say that?”
“Well… just… it’s all perfect. The team’s doing great. I’m happy at home, Phoebe’s great. It’s all too fucking good to be real.” Roy admitted.
Of course, it wasn’t all bliss, his knee was getting worse and he needed surgery, the issue was that with the ongoing games in international stadiums, he wouldn’t be able to fly right after surgery. And worse, Jamie would have to deal with him, injured, not that mobile and probably in pain. He didn’t think he was ready for Jamie to realise he was dating an old man.
“Do you find yourself thinking of ways to sabotage it? You mentioned that is usually a pattern?”
“I… no I don’t think so. It’s not even like it was with Keeley. Like… he’s got a much better career than me, and I’m just happy for him. It doesn’t even make me feel useless.” Roy admitted. “A bit old, but… well…” He massaged his knee absentmindedly.
“Then maybe now would be the time to just enjoy yourself? Perhaps do something special to make your partner feel as special as you’re feeling.” That was a good idea. Jamie’s birthday was coming up anyway, not that Dr. Sharon knew who he was seeing. They could get away for a few days when they didn’t have a game, enjoy their time before Roy was inevitably out of commission for a bit.
“You know what. I think I will.” Roy decided.
A villa with a private beach access near Brighton seemed like a wonderful place.
It was only when he saw Jamie’s face when he presented him with the booking that he realised he’d fallen into a pattern he hadn’t even been aware of, ruining his relationships with unwanted holidays.
“What’s wrong?” He asked. “It’s refundable, we don’t have to go.” Roy assured him, panic rising in his chest.
“No, no, let’s go, that’s so nice, thank you.” Jamie quickly put his hand on the print-out before Roy could take it away, and Roy froze with his own fingers on it.
“But you just looked like I kicked your puppy, what’s going on?” Roy asked.
“Nothing!” Jamie protested, standing up and kissing Roy in a weird short smack that was nothing like what Jamie usually did when he was happy. Then he started pacing and Roy could only feel his heart sink further.
“Jamie…”
“It’s a lovely place!” Jamie responded. “Thank you, really. I can’t wait to go.” He said in a tone he might as well be using to say the opposite, the weird smile on his face didn’t help either when he came up to Roy to kiss him again, lips hard from that very same tight smile, and Roy was at least glad for the proximity, because it allowed his hands to come rest on Jamie’s hips and stop him from pacing away again.
“Did you have other plans?” He asked, because that was the likeliest scenario. He just didn’t understand why Jamie wouldn’t just tell him.
Jamie’s lips moved like he was trying to think of what to say, and Roy held his gaze, nodding in encouragement. “It’s just… I were kind of building up to asking if you wanna meet my mum.” Jamie said quietly.
“I’ve met your mum.”
“Yeah but not as my boyfriend you haven’t.”
“Does she know about us?” They had agreed to secrecy at the beginning because of their positions, but Jamie talked to his mother a lot, he wouldn’t be surprised if she knew.
Jamie shook his head though.
“I just… She wanted me to come up for the Friday cos she’s not working.” Jamie explained. "I thought it'd be a good opportunity."
“Alright, so what if we drive up to Manchester on Thursday after training, we see your mum on Friday, and then we drive down to Brighton for two days instead of the three?” Roy suggested. Jamie felt like he was vibrating out of his skin and Roy wasn’t sure why that was. It definitely wasn’t from any cold, it was fucking hot despite the air conditioning being on.
“But you booked it for the three.” Jamie reasoned, and his words were so tight, the way they got when he was about to cry and Roy could only shake his head.
“Yeah, sure, but you wanna see your mum, I should have thought of that.” Roy reasoned, stroking his fingers over Jamie’s hips where he still held onto him.
“You don’t mind?”
“Of course not. It’s your birthday, we do whatever you wanna do. I should have asked you before just booking something.” Roy assured him, wrapping his arms around Jamie when Jamie sank into him.
“You really don’t mind?” Jamie asked again, this time quieter against Roy’s shoulder.
Roy frowned, shaking his head softly for Jamie to feel. “I promise I don’t. Do you really wanna tell your mum about us? Or am I coming as a friend?”
“Uhm… I dunno.” Jamie clung to him tighter and Roy let him, stroking his back.
Something odd had happened there for a moment, and Roy didn’t understand it, but by the time they went to bed that night, Jamie was all cheery again, and this time, Roy didn’t turn him down when Jamie asked if he could blow him.
Jamie: Cracks
Roy was endlessly patient with him and sometimes that made it hard to breathe.
Jamie had been right at the bar, things hadn’t changed very much at all between them on a daily basis. Training was the same, Roy didn’t go easy on him and he didn’t give Jamie any special treatment at work either, which Jamie was glad about.
One thing he hadn’t expected was how soft Roy was with him at home. He wasn’t sure what he had imagined, but the proximity and warm touches, the weird tidbits about Jamie that Roy remembered and just rolled with, Jamie’s favourite things turning up in the cupboards and on his plate as far as his meal plan allowed it, his laundry folded with so much care... all of it was wonderful. It was all new to Jamie.
It was Roy’s particularities that had him on edge though.
Roy didn’t like people in his space, so a cleaner only came once a week for deep cleanings. Roy did the daily stuff himself and by default he dealt with Jamie’s messes.
“Laundry basket.” He would sometimes gently remind Jamie, but he was never angry when Jamie left something laying around or forgot to tidy up after himself. It had to be driving Roy up the walls.
Jamie had paid someone to take care of all this ever since he had first moved out, it was worth it to him not to have to think about it.
“Did you want me to do something?” He asked one night while Roy was cleaning up all the kitchen counters after cooking.
Roy had smiled at him, tugged him in for a kiss. “You just sit here and be pretty, yeah? Do you want a refill?” Roy filled his wine glass again. “That’s it, now you’re prefect.” It had sounded fond, but Roy’s voice wasn’t the one that whispered in Jamie’s ear.
‘You’re that useless in the kitchen? Wow, must be nice’
Jamie shuddered, thanking Roy on autopilot. Roy had been cooking and cleaning all afternoon, and Jamie felt pressure building in his gut, a feeling of uselessness taking hold. He couldn’t freeload here forever. Roy didn’t even let him pay for take-outs, nevermind anything else. How long until Roy got tired of him being useless?
Dizzy, he slid off the counter, setting his glass down to pick up a sponge and at least go help a bit.
The glass hit the ground.
“Fuck!” Roy cursed, startled. It took Jamie a moment to realise that he had set the glass down right into Roy’s blind spot and a swipe of Roy’s elbow as he cleaned the counter had sent it falling, the red wine spilling all over the floor and cabinets, glass going everywhere.
“Oh fuck I’m so sorry.” Jamie went to pick it up.
“It’s alright, careful don’t cut yourself.” Roy was already there with him, paper towels in hand to soak up the worst of the mess and pick up some shards. Jamie scrambled to help.
“I didn’t mean to.” He said quickly.
“Well, obviously.” Roy chuckled. “Don’t put your hand in that. It’s fine. I’ll get the vacuum. Shit, let me get you some slippers.” Jamie had a habit of being barefoot, and Roy kept saying he was going to ruin his arches.
“You don’t have to.” Jamie said quickly.
Roy looked at him confused, heading in the hallway to get the slippers he had gotten Jamie a while ago anyways. ‘For winter’ he had claimed. Jamie put them on when they were put in front of him.
“I’m sorry.” He said again, his chest tight.
“It happens, it’s fine.” Roy assured him, vacuuming up the little shards. It was only when it was all done that Roy looked at him again, frowning when he saw Jamie.
“What?” Jamie asked, heart pounding in his chest.
“Nothing, you just look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Roy said softly. “Let’s sit you down, maybe some water?” And Roy walked him all the way to the sofa, sitting down with him and pouring him another glass from the pitcher there.
“Been a long day, hm?” Roy asked after a while of the two of them sharing silence, and Jamie gratefully took the out.
“Yeah, I’m tired.” He agreed.
“Let’s go to bed then.” Roy suggested, rubbing Jamie’s back like Jamie hadn’t just made a mess of his tidy place.
This time, Roy wouldn’t let him suck his cock. He had really fucked up.
Roy: Passport
Jamie had been a bit tense lately.
It made sense, Richmond was doing well-ish in the Champions League. They travelled a lot and they trained hard. Roy was never surprised when Jamie just wanted to go to sleep at the end of a workday.
Manchester would be a lovely break, Jamie would get to see his mum, and then they would be off to the beach for a couple of days. He would have proper time for Jamie too. Between game reviews, trainings and prep, they usually only managed breakfast together these days. Jamie was in bed by the time Roy came home most days. On rare occasions they managed dinner.
He did get to see Jamie on the pitch almost every day though, and that was never going to lose its shine. Jamie was in the best physical condition he had ever been in and sometimes when he scored he looked at Roy like he’d done it for him, like that goal was for Roy alone and that made him feel fucking special.
“Fuck.” It was soft and distant.
Roy was hyperatuned to Jamie, he couldn’t help it. The soft exclamation in the Departures hall of the Madrid Airport had him looking up and into the crowd of players lining up behind the coaches to go check in. The game had been a loss, and it had been brutal too. 90 minutes of ceaseless onslaught. The fact that they had only lost 1-0 was something Roy was actually damn proud of. The heat of the stadium had wrecked the players and he couldn’t wait to get to the bearable 25 degrees in London.
“Jamie?” He asked, letting some other players pass him in the first class queue as he inched his carry on and himself back towards Jamie. “You alright?”
Jamie was sweating, as they all were, lip trembling as Roy stepped close enough to talk to him.
“Something wrong? Are you alright?”
“I… forgot my fucking passport.” Jamie stammered out. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He looked like he was going to fucking cry, but Roy didn’t understand why.
“Do you know where it is?” He asked, voice soft, waving more of the players past them and noticing Sam looking at Jamie with a bit of concern.
“In the safe, in the hotel.” Jamie said quietly. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine. Let’s go back, find a taxi, we’ll fly back later.” Roy suggested. They didn’t have anywhere to be. They were off til Monday. It was only Wednesday afternoon. They would still make it to Manchester for Friday, no problem.
Jamie looked at him like he was crazy. “But the flight.”
“We’ll get the next one.” Roy promised him. “I’ll just tell Beard, yeah? Stay here?” He left his carry-on with Jamie, ducking under the barricade to get to his fellow coaches and let them know he and Jamie would be on a later flight back, that Jamie had forgotten his passport and wishing them a happy long weekend.
Jamie still looked fucking shaken when he came back.
“Hey, you alright?” Roy asked him softly, squeezing Jamie’s arm and looking at his wide-eyed gaze with concern. “We got this, let’s go find a taxi.” He suggested.
Despite the heat and despite their colleagues there, he wrapped an arm around Jamie, carefully guiding him back out of the Departures hall and to the nearest waiting taxi.
Once inside and moving, he reached for Jamie’s hand, finding it cold and clammy despite the heat.
“Are you feeling sick?” He asked him. The heat could do that. Fuck, if Jamie had heat stroke they were better off just booking another night in the hotel and flying tomorrow. Twisting in his seat, he reached up to feel Jamie’s forehead, but that was a normal temperature.
“No, no. I’m fine. Just… I’m sorry. I know you were looking forward to going home. You should have stayed. Wait, you can still go!”
“I’m not leaving without you.” Roy assured him. “It’s fine. Jamie. It’s alright.”
The passport was already at reception when they arrived and through some miracle combination of flight delays and next to no traffic on the way back to the airport, they managed to reconvene with the team for their originally scheduled flight two hours later. Jamie didn’t really seem to recover though and Roy was starting to worry.
Still, that night, at home, with the long travel day showered off them, Jamie curled up next to him like he always did.
“Will you tell me what happened at the airport today?” Roy asked quietly, his arm around Jamie despite the warmth of the night.
“What do you mean?”
“You just kind of froze.”
“Yeah…” Jamie’s voice sounded normal again, suave. “Couldn’t believe I’d been that dumb, innit?”
“Right.” Roy wasn’t sure what to make of it, and so he let it go for now.
Jamie: Manchester
In the end, Jamie lost his nerve on the way to Manchester. Roy was driving them and Jamie was wringing with himself the whole time. He had been the one who had put the idea of Roy meeting his mum in the capacity of ‘boyfriend’ up for discussion and Roy had left it all up to Jamie to decide. The surge of pride Jamie felt when he imagined telling his mum he was seeing Roy was so overwhelming, but the idea of telling her he’d fucked it up in a month or so was too much.
Jamie knew his mum, knew what she cared about, namely, him being happy and the fact that whoever he was seeing was treating him right. He knew she would ask him just that. ’Is he good to you?’ He could hear it in her voice.
How could he tell her that, yes, Roy was, and Jamie didn’t fucking deserve it because he brought nothing but demands and trouble to the deal. How could he tell her that Roy ate his meal plan with him, cooked it all for him, kept their place clean and all Jamie did was run laps and score goals? And what if it finally happened? What if next time he fucked something up, Roy had enough? Jamie felt like he had been stacking straws, accumulating a million things to count against him. Roy hadn’t even wanted to fuck him, so he had no way of making up for them either.
What if next time, Roy snapped and gave him a piece of what he had coming?
Jamie wasn’t an idiot, he hadn’t ever stayed with a partner who hit him, not for one minute longer after it happened. He just knew himself, he rubbed people the wrong way, pushed buttons he shouldn’t, made good men angry to the point they couldn’t control themselves around him. Roy hadn’t exactly been a master of calm before he met Jamie, so things would run their course… but would he be able to walk away from Roy? Then what would happen? He had put all his eggs into one basket, everything he had was at Richmond. His job, his friends, his love. And Jamie would have to leave, wouldn’t he? Roy was Head Coach now, he wasn’t going to be the one to leave.
And what would his mum say when he called her next month and told her he had fucked everything up again. First Manchester City, now Richmond.
“Roy?” He asked softly, an hour outside of Manchester.
“Yeah?” Roy reached over, squeezing his shoulder, and Jamie let his head drop toward his hand, pressing a kiss to it and wishing it was all going to be okay, while knowing it wasn’t.
“I don’t think I’m ready to tell her.” Jamie said, quiet, apologetic.
“That’s alright.” Roy assured him. “Doesn’t have to be now.” Jamie scanned his face, or at least his side profile for signs of anger, disappointment, anything. Roy turned to give him a little smile.
“You still feeling the heat?” He asked Jamie.
And oh, yeah, that had been his excuse for crying at the airport, he had only thought of it when they were already home though. Despite the sunscreen, Jamie had gotten slightly sunburned in Madrid, it marked his cheeks and the top of his forehead pink. Roy had said it looked adorable when he had put aloe vera on it earlier.
“Little bit.” He admitted. “You’re not mad?”
“That you’re not ready to tell your mum about us?” Roy asked and Jamie nodded. “Listen, I’m nervous myself. I’ve been wanting to tell my sister at least, so she’ll get why you’ll be around so much next week when Phoebe’s visiting, but I just… I mean, it’s us.” He chuckled. “She’ll have a field day, and… I don’t know… I still feel bad about the whole situation, it’s not really right, is it? Me being your boss and all, we’re asking for trouble, but… I like being with you.”
Jamie took Roy’s hand in his, linking it between both of his and squeezing. “I like it too.” He assured him. “I just didn’t want you to think I didn’t wanna or something.”
“It’s your relationship too, Jamie, you don’t have to worry about me. I’m happy, no matter who knows or doesn’t. I’ll just drop you off at your mum’s, yeah? And I’ll check into the hotel, find something to do for the day. Got my book and everything.” Roy seemed so steady. He always seemed so steady and Jamie felt like an asshole for holding his breath for that to change.
“Alright, yeah, good plan, that.” Jamie agreed.
Later that night, he asked his mum how she had known Simon was the one to keep. Apparently he’d made her feel really, really safe.
When he made it to the hotel, Roy recapped the new chapters of the book he had been reading for Jamie as they curled up together to go to sleep, his hands so very warm and gentle on Jamie’s back, indulging every question and plot hole.
Jamie wished he had brought Roy home after all.
Roy: Brighton
Summer sun looked good on Jamie. The visit with his mum seemed to have restored him, and Roy was so happy they had gone up to Manchester together. The drive down to Brighton had been long, but pleasant and Jamie had been back to his usual self, commanding the stereo and singing along happily. Roy had made a show of grumbling about the amount of pop he played, but really he had just enjoyed Jamie.
The villa was gorgeous, the beach clean and the water blissfully warm. Slathering Jamie’s healing skin in sun screen and getting into swim trunks was all they cared about before rushing into the waves together. Jamie was beaming, letting his body float on top of the water. There was an off-chance of paparazzi, so they didn’t do anything too affectionate outside, but just fucking swimming together and having a beach day was fantastic. They ended up opening a bottle of champagne under their umbrella, getting tipsy and eating watermelon and strawberries, watching the water.
Jamie’s first beach holiday had been in the UK, he said. There was an aunt in Bristol that he thought his mum had had a falling out with, because she never came up anymore, but he had learned to swim at a public pool there at age 5 and loved the water as much as Roy did.
Roy listened and he talked about Sunderland’s beaches and how cold the water had been the first time he had gone in, and how his first kiss had been at that very beach. It earned him another one from Jamie, who threw a towel over their heads to do it to ruin any shot someone might get off them, though they hadn’t seen anyone since they had arrived.
The sun was setting by the time they had emptied the bottle and finished their fruit supply, both of them sleepy from the heat and the swimming.
“Can I ask you something?” Jamie asked him quietly.
“Yeah, sure.” Roy turned his head towards him, comfortable on his rolled-up towel that was acting as a pillow.
“Why won’t you fuck me?”
That was a surprise, Roy blinked, quickly more alert, but staying as relaxed as he could.
“I guess … I’m worried I won’t be good at it. Or that it’ll hurt you.”
Jamie looked at him like he’d posed him a math problem. “Okay, but I mean obviously it’s gonna hurt a bit, but you’ll like it.” He pointed out.
“I like what we do.” Roy wasn’t sure what had switched the topic over to this, but he could tell Jamie had been churning this over in his head. “Do you wanna try it tonight?” He offered, because the idea didn't seem that scary anymore now.
Jamie looked relieved when he nodded, and Roy nodded back. It wasn’t like he wouldn’t give Jamie absolutely anything he asked for.
Jamie: Closer
Jamie hadn’t expected much from their first time having sex. He knew the discomfort well and he knew the pleasure that sometimes made it worth it. Most of all, he had been looking forward to Roy really enjoying himself.
He should have known better than to expect Roy to do anything halfway though. Spread out naked and exhausted on the sheets, he stared up at the ceiling, panting, his head still spinning from what had to be one of the top five orgasms of his life, easily. He was too tired to even move and help Roy clean him up when he returned with a warm damp washcloth and wiped Jamie down so fucking gently.
“Fucking hell, Roy.” He looked up at him, laughing incredulously. “You thought you were gonna be bad?”
It was dark by now, but the moon was full and he could make Roy out just fine as he sat down on the bed and leaned over Jamie to kiss him.
“Didn’t know what it was going to be like.” Roy admitted, voice low and quiet in the night, their windows wide open now, letting in the cool breeze from the sea.
“We’re doing that again, yeah?” Jamie asked, shifting and stretching a little. He was familiar enough with Roy’s cock to know it didn’t actually have a curve in it like the tabloids had reported in the early 2010s, a tidbit that had fuelled some fantasies at the time, but fuck, Roy sure made it feel like he did.
“Definitely!” Roy agreed, sliding back into bed with Jamie and laying his head down on Jamie’s chest, hand splaying over Jamie’s belly, stroking gently, and fuck, that was nice too.
“I don’t think I’ve ever not been super sore before.” Jamie admitted quietly to the ceiling fan that spun its lazy circles. “Why’s that funny?” He asked when Roy snorted.
“No just, that better not be a dig at me.” Roy warned him in that warm playful tone Jamie never heard on him before they’d started this.
“Obviously not!” Fuck, Roy had a good cock. “No just…”
“Not gonna complain as much about the prep time next time, are you?” Roy teased him, propping himself up on one elbow and leaning over Jamie’s chest to press lazy kisses along his sternum.
Jamie let his hand sink into Roy’s hair fondly.
Roy was such a good catch. He already dreaded missing him when things eventually broke.
Roy: Knee
The Champions League was a whole different challenge. Richmond wasn’t doing too poorly, but it was clear a few weeks in that they had no chance at the title this year. As far as Roy was concerned, the guys were playing brilliantly. Jamie trained like a beast and Roy was right there with him, up at 4 AM every morning.
He knew that his time keeping up with Jamie was coming to an end though, and sure, Roy didn’t do the endless drills and exercises with him, but even the warm up jog to the park was starting to ache in ways he couldn’t write off or bite back anymore. He was in pain. All day. Every fucking day.
Some days were better than others, and on some days the ibuprofen took the bulk of the aches away, enough to let him sleep peacefully at least, but those days were starting to become rare.
“What’s wrong, old man? Did I tire you out last night?” Jamie asked, chipper and bouncing like a fucking golden retriever puppy.
Roy’s ‘Fuck you’-response wouldn’t have been anything unusual, he had thrown that one out for years in response to old man comments, but something in his voice must have rang harder than he had meant it to, because Jamie’s smile fell.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean it.” He said, falling out of the bouncy jog he had been in, hands finding their way into the bottom of his shirt the way he did when he got nervous.
“Just… go run some laps without me. No cutting corners.” Roy instructed him, pointing out the gravel path that looped around the park that they would usually jog along together.
“You got it, coach.” Jamie gave him a look, like he wasn’t so sure he should go, before turning and taking off like he was instructed to.
“Fuck….” Roy sighed softly, sinking onto a bench, frustration and guilt mixing into a sour feeling in his gut.
This was his own fault for not getting the knee replacement right away when the specialist had said it was necessary. His body had gotten used to compensating for the weak joint now, and it was messing with everything from his ankles to his hips to his spine. He needed to get this fixed and soon, preferably before his growing frustration made Jamie throw in the towel on this relationship. Fuck, but he couldn’t even bring himself to tell Jamie about the pain, nevermind the old man surgery that would fix it, supposedly. It was another reminder of how old he was, how fucking wrecked. Jamie was 26 years old. Roy could still show him a good time now, but when he was on bedrest, then on crutches for weeks, and physio for months Jamie would see the light, surely.
“Fuck.”
Jamie: Fear
Roy had gone all quiet. It had been days now and the routine was the same, except it suddenly felt heavy, like Roy didn’t want to be a part of it. He held Jamie just the same at night, the air conditioning on blast so the room was cool enough for them to cuddle up together, but Roy was quietly fuming on their morning runs and then he was all quiet and short at training.
Jamie felt like his skin was crawling. He didn’t know what he had done wrong, he didn’t know how to fix it and he couldn’t figure out how to not make it worse. Roy wasn’t mean to him, never yelled at him outside of practice, but something in Jamie told him that Roy would really, really like to scream and he didn’t understand what he had done to cause it.
Walking on eggshells seemed to make it worse and so did his attempts to fill the silence at dinner. The one glass of wine they had agreed Jamie could have since he wasn’t playing in the next couple of days tasted like acid, and the food felt like it might get stuck in his throat, no matter how much he chewed it.
Roy’s wine glass was empty, he realised. Maybe a bit more would mellow him out a bit? Roy wasn’t an angry drinker, it was worth a shot.
“Let me get you- shit!” In his haste to do something useful, he had overlooked a water glass, knocking it over with his wrist and splashing it all right into Roy’s lap.
“Fuck’s sake, Jamie!” Roy exclaimed, startled by the cold, picking up a napkin to clean himself up.
Jamie felt himself freeze, his arm still in the position he had caused the spill in as his chest began to feel tighter and tighter. It wouldn’t happen over water, right? Not over some spilled water of all things.
“Jamie?”
“Huh?” He barely managed a sound at all, pulling his arms against his sides and into his lap. “I’m sorry.” He said quietly, looking at the plate of half eaten food. His stomach started turning. Was this it? Fuck, he didn’t even know how he had fucked it up this time.
A movement in the corner of his eye made him jump out of his seat, the chair falling backwards and hit the hardwood floors with a bang.
“Whoa.” Roy’s voice was soft, but Jamie couldn’t look at him, standing frozen to his spot just out of reach.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. He was going to fucking miss Roy. Where were all his things? Did he even have a suitcase here anymore. Fuck, fuck, stupid. Fuck.
“Jamie, can you look at me a second?” Roy had stood up slowly and he was close now, but Jamie couldn’t do what he asked. He couldn’t move.
“Okay… “ Roy groaned a little as he bent down and carefully set the chair back upright. There was that telltale clicking that his knee did when he bent it, it came with a little wheeze, Jamie had never noticed that.
“I’m not sure what just happened, but… did you think I was gonna hurt you?” Roy asked, and he wasn’t touching Jamie, not even a little bit, and Jamie was so grateful for that, and so devastated at the very same moment.
“It’s fine, I were being a moron.” The tone his voice came out in was one he didn’t recognise from his own register, fast with how shaky his breathing was. He couldn’t look at Roy. The only direction for his eyes was straight ahead, utterly unfocused.
“It’s not. It’s not fine. Jamie, I…” He had done it now, hadn’t he? It was over. Roy was going to kick him out and that was that, the end of them, the end of Richmond. Fuck, his eyes were welling up.
“I wouldn’t. Hey, listen, I’m sorry I snapped at you, I got startled. I wasn’t gonna hurt you.” Roy was still talking, and Jamie could hear the restraint in his voice and he didn’t know what it meant because the blood in his ears was rushing so fast.
“Hey…” Roy carefully pushed Jamie’s place setting back further onto the table to make space and sat on the edge of the table, looking up at Jamie and now it was impossible not to look at him. Jamie’s heart was racing and Roy looked so handsome in that light and he looked so fucking concerned it made his stomach coil with guilt. Jamie's shoulders went up so high and they felt so fucking heavy, he couldn’t stop the way his breathing was coming out so short.
“Nothing’s happening, I promise. It’s all okay. It was just a bit of water, nothing bad is gonna happen. Hey, let’s... do you need something hm? You’re looking a bit pale, do you wanna sit down?”
“Yeah.” It came out short. “Yeah, let’s just have dinner, it’s all okay.” Fuck that wasn’t going to fly, was it? They could just go back to it though, little do-over, Jamie wouldn’t fuck it up twice.
“Alright, we can do that too, but… let’s … let’s sit you down, yeah? Can I?” Roy’s hands were really warm and gentle on his arms and Jamie trusted him blindly to sit him down in his chair again. Roy pulled up his own a second later, both of them way too far from the table for eating, but Roy leaned forward with his elbows on his upper thighs.
“Do you need me to … leave? Or call someone? I can call Keeley, or your mum? We can call your mum?” Roy offered. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” The words came out so soft and Jamie realised what he had fucking done, making Roy think he was scared of him. He wasn’t, of course he wasn’t, this was Roy. They had hit each other a bit long before they ever thought of dating and it was never bad, he had nothing to be scared of here. This was stupid.
“Fuck please don’t.” He asked, closing his eyes tightly. “I’m sorry, it was just stupid, it’s fine. I promise.”
“It’s not stupid to be scared. I yelled at you.” Roy pointed out.
“You yell all the time.” Jamie pointed out. “It’s your fucking job.”
“Not yelling at you at home isn’t.” Roy sat back in his chair and even with his eyes closed, Jamie could feel Roy’s on him. “How long have you been… scared?”
“I’m not!” Jamie protested, looking over at him. “Just… fuck…” His hands had found their way into his shirt, twirling the seam up into a tight coil, tight as he could roll it. “Just don’t want it to be over, that’s all.”
“Okay, that’s good. We’re on the same page there.” Roy sounded relieved, he looked relieved too, but he was still frowning and Jamie thought he looked about as unsettled as he himself felt right then. “So, is this something we can talk about?” Roy asked and Jamie knew that ‘no’ wasn’t really an option. His heart sank at the prospect.
“Yeah, go on then.” He said softly.
Roy: The Talk
Okay, talk, they could talk about this. Roy’s hands were shaking and he had to press them together between his thighs to stop himself from touching Jamie. Reaching out to him, casually sharing touch and space, it was what came naturally now and it felt fucking horrible not having that reassurance.
It was worse though, knowing that Jamie was scared of him on some level and more so, that Roy had no idea when that had started. He had been a bitch these past days, he knew it, he had been meaning to apologise, to tell Jamie about the surgery and what was going on, but this kind of flinch didn’t come from a grumpy week. Jamie was scared of him, was scared that Roy would hurt him.
It hurt, it was impossible not to take it personally and at the same time he knew he couldn’t give in to that now, not with Jamie looking so devastated. He still looked like he was waiting for a blow, though probably more of a verbal one.
“I know we had some brawls when we were teammates, and we did some shoving and stuff, so it’s not like we’re not used to some rough contact….” Roy reasoned. “But, I need you to know that I’d never hit someone I’m with, never have.”
“Of course you haven’t.” Jamie insisted and it sounded almost defensive, of what? Roy’s honour in prior relationships? “I’m not like Keeley though. I’m me.” And oh, there it was.
“Yeah, you’re you. You’re my partner. I’m not gonna hurt you, I need you to know that, even if I get angry sometimes, I wouldn’t. That’s not… fuck, Jamie, you’re important to me.”
Jamie’s eyes looked glassy with tears. Roy wanted to hold him so badly. A dark thought occurred to him and once it did, he couldn’t unthink it.
“Has someone else hit you before? In a relationship I mean?”
Jamie shook his head once, then bit his lip and glanced over at Roy guiltily, like he’d caught himself lying. “Not … in a relationship… I mean, yeah, technically in a relationship, but I didn’t stay in it.” He explained.
“So someone you were with has hit you, and you left them when that happened?” Roy tried to follow.
“Yeah… happens. I mean, I’m me, right? I can be a real prick, get under people’s skin.” Jamie said quietly, looking into the semi-distance past Roy’s shoulder.
“That’s… I mean, that’s true, but that doesn’t give anyone the right to-“
“I know no one has the fucking right. That’s why I left, didn’t I?” Jamie cut him off and it was a bit of a relief to see a bit more life out of him. “I didn’t fucking want to have to leave you.”
The words felt like a punch to his gut.
“Fuck.” It came out softly and Roy knew he had to sit with that for a moment and digest it. Fuck that hurt. Jamie had been holding his breath, seeing if Roy was going to escalate and hurt him.
Did he think so fucking little of him? Or was this 25 years of public anger coming to finally bite Roy where it hurt the most?
“I’m sorry. I’ve been a miserable bastard this week.” He said quietly. “But I need you to know that, never, not for a second, did I ever wanna hurt you.”
Jamie let his head slump, making a bit of a head shake motion, slowly moving his head from side to side like he was wringing with something. “But what did I do though?” He asked eventually.
“Fuck, nothing.” That was an easy response, but a very loaded question. Now that he thought about it, he had been dragging Jamie down for weeks, drawing the light out of him.
“It’s all my own shit.” Roy assured him and Jamie looked up at him like that was even worse than anything he might have said Jamie had done.
“So? I come to you with my shit though. All the time!” Jamie had a point there. “How am I meant to fix shit if you won’t talk? Just fuming around the house, grumbling.”
This wasn’t how he had wanted to have this conversation at all, and it felt like a detour from what actually mattered in this talk, but it was only fair to let Jamie in a bit.
“I need to have my knee replaced, fast. Like… in two weeks.” Roy explained. “I didn’t know how to tell you.”
“What?" Jamie looked at him. Roy could practically see him replaying the last couple of months. "So you’ve been out running with me hurting that bad and you didn’t say nothing?” Jamie asked, looking down when Roy stretched his knee out between them.
Roy nodded reluctantly, crossing his arms and then uncrossing them again consciously. He had no fucking right to shut Jamie out right now.
“I’m sorry.” He said quietly. “I just… “ Roy shook his head at himself.
“So that’s why you’ve been all quiet. You’re in pain all the time?” Jamie asked. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Cos… fuck.” Roy’s voice was quiet, but he made himself look at Jamie when he spoke. “Because… you’re young, and you’re gorgeous, and you’re on top of the world… and I was scared that this would be the final thing that made you realise you need to do better.” Roy admitted, giving voice to the fears that had been coiling in his gut from the moment Jamie had first kissed him.
“You’re so fucking dumb sometimes.” Jamie’s words had no bite to them, he just looked sad and Roy let him sit with whatever thought was stewing in him. “So you’re not unhappy with me then?” Jamie asked.
“No. You make me happy. I’m just a sorry old bastard sometimes.” Roy assured him and Jamie seemed to visibly relax, slumping into his chair and then seemingly deciding that Roy’s chair was too far away from him because he turned towards Roy and took a hold of two of the legs to pull him closer like Roy wasn’t even on the chair. Jamie was fucking strong, not that Roy could forget it, he was the one loading his bar with weights.
Jamie kept his hands on the edges of the chair, trapping Roy’s legs between them and he was suddenly wonderfully close again.
“So… you still love me? And all we gotta do to get you feeling chipper again is get that knee out?” He asked, looking like Roy had given him some gift by outlining a solution for his pain.
“Jamie…” He wasn’t ready to let this go. “That yeah, that would help. And I’d also feel much better if you felt safe around me.” He said softly, letting his hands come to rest on Jamie’s arms, squeezing affectionately.
Jamie gave him a sad smile. “I really killed the mood there, huh?”
“The mood? Of our sulky dinner?” Roy asked, glancing at their half-eaten plates. “I don’t think that’s the issue we’re having.” Jamie’s skin was pleasantly soft under his fingertips, and he had trouble not escaping into focusing on that instead of how his heart was aching.
Jamie nodded, as if he had come to a conclusion. “Do you want me to go?” He offered.
“Fuck no.” Roy shook his head. “That’s the last thing I want. I wanna know what I can do better. I don’t want you holding your breath everytime I stub my toe. That is… if you even still wanna be with me?”
That seemed to shake something loose because Jamie’s resigned look faded instantly.
“I fucking love you, Roy. Obviously I wanna be with you. I’ve just… it’s just that you’re everything now. My coach, and my boyfriend, and my best friend and the guy who makes me come so hard I passed out one time. If I fuck this up I don’t know what’s gonna happen.”
“I know. I’m scared of that too. But I don’t wanna fuck it up. I really care about making this work with you.” Jamie loved him. How had he managed that?
He looked at Jamie, and at least they were both breathing right again, there was something like hope in Jamie’s eyes, he was pretty sure of it.
“How about we put dinner in the fridge and we’ll find somewhere more comfortable to talk?” Roy suggested, because nice as the chair was, he felt like he was in a meeting, and what he really needed was Jamie closer than this.
Jamie was the one who took them up to bed, it wasn’t Roy’s suggestion, but his heart ached with relief when Jamie took his hand.
Talking was easier in the dark, with Jamie in his arms. Something about being in bed had Jamie melting into him again. And at least that made Roy feel like maybe Jamie hadn’t ever been afraid of him here, though he couldn’t bear asking about that right away.
“You always see it coming, don’t you? When someone gets real mad at you? There’s this shine to their eyes when they decide they’re gonna hit you?” Jamie mused, resting his head on Roy’s shoulder, arm slung around Roy’s middle. “It’s different with you.”
“I always have that shine?” Roy asked.
“No… I’ve never seen it.” Jamie said quietly. “But you’ve said you were gonna kill me before so… I figured it gets hidden by the eyebrows.”
Roy huffed a laugh at that. “So tonight what happened?” He wondered.
“I dunno. I was already tired and worried and you’ve been all growly and quiet and I just… something moved and I reacted. It were instinct.” Jamie mused. “A guy once decked me for spilling red wine on his sofa, so I guess spilling stuff is a bit….”
“Of a trigger?” Roy suggested when Jamie didn’t seem to find the word.
“Sounds more serious than it is probably… but yeah, maybe?” Jamie sighed, wriggling a little closer.
“I like being with you. I think that’s why I couldn’t talk about it. I didn’t wanna risk it.” Jamie said quietly.
“Let’s maybe try and talk more, hm? We got good at it there for a while, and then we both just chickened back out.” Roy reasoned, stroking his fingers over Jamie’s scalp affectionately.
“I’ll start, yeah. Because I got a big one. I love you too.”
Jamie looked up at him at that, eyes wide and surprised, and so fucking pretty. Roy smiled when Jamie did, stroking his cheek.
“Wow… yeah, no… that’s. Mint.” Jamie kissed him and Roy was glad for it, grateful to feel him initiating after that scare.
It felt like maybe they could work this out, but hell, Roy’s heart only calmed down much later, when Jamie was fast asleep on him.
He felt like he knew Jamie better now. Most importantly, he knew how badly he could hurt him if he didn’t watch himself, not physically, never, but Jamie’s heart might not be the invincible bouncy ball of energy Roy would have imagined. He was precious. Roy had known that, but the cloud of pain and frustration had gotten in the way again, and he couldn’t continue to let that happen.
Jamie: Victory
They didn’t win the Champions League. It wasn’t a surprise to anyone, but the fact that they hadn’t come in at the bottom was a huge win for AFC Richmond after making their debut this year.
Roy wasn’t there for the last game in Copenhagen. With his recent surgery, he hadn’t been able to fly and the Coaches had agreed that Beard and Nate had it covered. Jamie still played for him though, knowing Roy was watching with his leg on the coffee table, crutches within reach.
After the night they had really talked, things had shifted in their relationship. Roy stopped shutting him out and Jamie was slowly letting himself unclench again, soaking up the parts of Roy that had always made Jamie want him and speaking up when he needed something to be different.
He hadn’t realised he had been so scared. It wasn’t a fear of Roy, necessarily, he had been scared of being himself completely, because himself got himself dumped at best. If anything though, Roy seemed to be even more attentive, more attracted to him somehow? Despite the surgery and pain management, Roy was affectionate and he was letting Jamie drive him up the walls, bugging him to do his physiotherapy exercises, doing them with Roy and coaching him through them like their roles had been reversed.
Roy was a fast bastard on those crutches too, stalking through the halls of Nelson Road like he wasn’t even inhibited in his movements at all and holding court in the locker room the way only Isaac usually did, giving them pep talks that would have done Ted proud.
Jamie was happy. He realised it when he randomly caught himself smiling just thinking of going home to Roy.
“Any big plans tonight?” Coach Beard asked him as they sat at the gate, waiting to board their flight home.
“Yeah, I’m going over to Roy’s.” Jamie told him. He never lied about being with Roy, just never shared what they did when it wasn’t work appropriate.
“Good, he’ll be proud of you.” The tie had been a lovely high note to end their run in the League with. After a long and exhausting summer, everyone was looking forward to a little break before the Premier League season started up again.
Beard squeezed his shoulder as the priority boarding was called, getting up and Jamie followed, falling into step with Sam who didn’t have the comfiest shoulder to nap on, but was by far Jamie’s most patient option.
Before he put his phone on flight mode though, he sent Roy a screenshot and a heart emoji.
‘Pack a bag’ He typed, smiling at the picture of that same lovely villa in Brighton they had enjoyed earlier that summer. Jamie would be driving this time and he just knew the water would do Roy’s knee a world of good while it was healing. Besides, he wouldn't mind reliving their first night there.
‘You’re a fucking legend, Jamie Tartt.’ Roy’s response came in just in time before take-off.