Chapter Text
Roy didn’t really know how it happened, felt stupid and regressive for it after the fact, like something he would have done two years ago, not now. Not after everything, not after Wembley, not after Amsterdam, not after Manchester. But then again, Jamie had always known the best ways to push his buttons. And when the little shit ran his mouth about Keeley and the stupid fucking video, Roy was seeing red. He took the little twat into the back alley and punched him square in the fucking face before either of them could even feel the cold outside air on their skin.
Jamie didn’t really know how it happened, felt like an idiot when he said it and felt like an even bigger idiot when Roy hit him for it, because of course Roy would hit him for that, hell Jamie kind of wanted to hit himself for it. As he stumbled back his arm shot out just to grasp onto something that would keep him on his feet, his fingers closed around the collar of Roy’s shirt instead. His fingernails digging into the older man’s skin, no doubt coming away with blood, skin, and hair under his nails as he staggered back and his arm pulled hard enough to rip the fabric of Roy’s cotton t-shirt.
Roy barely registered the fact that when his fist came back from Jamie’s face wet, that it was covered in the younger man’s blood. Didn’t have time to process that fact before Jamie’s fingernails dug into the skin of his chest and sent a rage inducing pulse of pain through his senses. Then he was being pulled forward as his shirt ripped and Jamie’s body floundered from the punch and in the next moment Jamie’s knee made contact with Roy’s stomach and it was a real chaotic tussle of limbs after that.
Roy’s fist bashing into Jamie’s side, Jamie’s fist catching the hinge of Roy’s jaw, Roy’s shoulder jamming into Jamie’s collarbone, Jamie’s hands reaching and grabbing his fingernails scratching and coming away bloody, Roy’s forearm pressing into Jamie’s chest, shoving Jamie into the brick wall of the alley with a growl. Jamie’s fists curling into the fabric of Roy’s shirt as his back hit the wall, all of the breath forcing its way out of his lungs in a punched out gasp, Jamie’s skull smacking against the bricks with a sound that made Roy’s bones itch, the look that flashed in Jamie’s eyes for just a second, as Roy pressed up close teeth bared, eyebrows furrowed, and growling like a mad dog about to pounce was the only thing that brought clarity back to the older man’s mind. For just a moment as he moved in close to Jamie’s face, his own expression threatening and angry, the only thing in Jamie's eyes was fear.
It was brief and barely there, like Jamie didn’t even realize he was feeling the emotion himself, but for just a second Roy remembered just who the hell was on the other side of his fist and just who the hell else’s fist Jamie had been on the other side of before. Then his eyes were drifting down Jamie’s face to take in the gushing faucet that his nose had become and he felt like he might just throw up on their shoes.
“Fuck,” Roy breathed the word out long and overly extended as his entire body relaxed with it like some kind of twisted yoga meditation breathing exercise. Finally taking in the sight of Jamie’s blood running down his face to drip onto his vibrant blue hoodie, creating a sickening tableau of clashing bright colors. His free arm rising unconsciously, fingers pressing gently into the skin just under Jamie’s nose, the warmth and moisture of the crimson blood seeping onto his skin making his stomach curdle.
For barely a second Jamie felt relieved when Roy stopped attacking him, then once he saw the anger drain out of the older man’s face into some gross pale expression of guilt and pain Jamie was feeling even more panicky than he did during the fight and the worst part was he didn’t really know why. He couldn’t tell you why when he felt Roy’s muscles relax and the press of his forearm against Jamie’s chest release a little, his own hands were tightening their grip in Roy’s shirt. Couldn’t tell you why he pulled Roy back in the centimeter the man had shifted away. Couldn’t tell you why it felt so bad when Roy’s hand was lifting to touch his face with gentle fingers rather than a fist.
“Jamie, I’m sorry– fuck, I shouldn’t’ve–,” Roy’s gravelly voice choked out an apology to Jamie’s bloody chin and that felt even worse, because the fight wasn’t Roy’s fault. Jamie totally goaded him into it. He was there, he remembers how much he was being a prick even if Roy was also being a giant fucking prick too, but that wasn’t the point. The point was Jamie made the stupid comment about Keeley and the video and Roy was defending her honor about it. So ipso facto Jamie was the one who started it. It was his fault.
Then Roy was pulling away even more and Jamie felt the panic rise up in his throat like bile. His forearm lifted off of Jamie’s chest and instantly he was missing the warmth. Like it was some sort of twisted security blanket. And then Roy moved even further back like he was going to take the warmth of his entire body away from where it continued to press Jamie into the brick wall and that just could not happen. Don’t ask Jamie why it couldn’t happen, he didn’t really have an answer, just the inherent knowledge that he couldn’t let Roy get any further away. So Jamie used his grip on the man’s t-shirt to pull him back in and he wasn’t all too gentle about it either. Roy’s hands shot up to land on either side of his head on the wall behind him to steady himself, eyes wide with shock as he stumbled a step forward which ended up pressing his chest into Jamie’s and he found that he liked that warmth way more than Roy’s arm.
“Not your fault, coach,” Jamie flashed a smile he knew had to have blood on his teeth, especially from the way it made Roy cringe. “Ran me big fat mouth, didn’t I? Ya’ had to hit me, yeah?”
Jamie did his best to relax his body language, hoping he’d listened well enough when Isaac explained all that shite to him. Trying to make himself look casual and joking, huffing out a laugh and leaning against the wall like they weren’t just fighting the way the two of them did two years ago, like they could just ignore this momentary lapse in both of their judgments and move forward without acknowledging it, like his insides weren’t screaming at him not to let Roy go, to not let him get away, to keep him as close as physically possible. Maybe he would have done a better job with the last one if he wasn’t still clinging to Roy’s ripped shirt like a toddler refusing to let go of their mum’s trouser leg on the first day of primary school.
“Jamie,” Roy squinted at the man in front of him. He knew it was supposed to be some kind of coping mechanism, the way Jamie would always couch traumatizing revelations in layers of jokes and sarcastic backhanded humor to soften the blow. Whether for himself or for the other person, it was one of those habits Roy’s sister adopted when talking about Phoebe's father. One of those habits that always made him want to shake the person doing it and tell them to say something real instead. Most of the time Jamie’s jokes would make Roy’s skin crawl, but this time it made his blood boil. There was someone else’s voice behind this one, Roy could hear it.
“Why’d that sound like something your shit dad would say after he hit you?” Roy really should learn to say things like that in a softer tone, but he’d never been one for tact.
Jamie blinked, feeling like Roy just punched him in the face all over again.
It wasn’t that it wasn’t something his dad would say after slapping Jamie upside the head, but it’s that he would never be able to put Roy and his dad in the same zone in his brain. The fact that Roy thought he could felt worse than all of the new bruises forming on his body.
“What? No. That’s not– you didn’t– he’s not– you’re not–” Jamie stumbled over syllables having no idea how to even begin to articulate to the other man how he was wrong, but also not wrong.
Roy sighed, dropping his gaze from Jamie’s and shaking his head, feeling like he was back at that gala being told by Ted to be the adult, because that’s what he was supposed to be here, The Adult. Jamie wasn’t even close to thirty, getting into a bar fight over a girl was definitely something he should still be doing, but Roy was on the bad side of thirty climbing closer and closer to forty. Hell, he was lucky he wasn’t walking with a fucking cane at this point, he shouldn’t have been the one to take Jamie out here and start all of this.
“I thought we were past this,” he spoke to the ground, his thoughts coming out as speech without permission from his brain.
“We are.” Jamie answered him easily even as his fists were still clenched in Roy’s shirt like if he let go Roy would hit him again. He couldn’t stop himself from picking up his head and giving Jamie an incredulous expression with a matching scoff. Jamie just rolled his eyes at him. “It’s just not a liner or summat.”
Roy’s eyebrows pinched together, “Nonlinear?”
“Yeah,” Jamie nodded resolutely like that was what he said the first time. “We just slid back, no big.” He shrugged his shoulders feeling the corners of the bricks dig into his skin through his hoodie. Doing his best to keep his voice casual and his tone light as he still refused to loosen his grip on Roy’s shirt even a little bit. Terrified the man would disappear the second he did.
Roy snorted at Jamie’s terminology, clearly borrowed from a different source, “So you’re still seeing Dr. Fieldstone then?”
“Yeah, well,” Jamie pouted. “Helps, don’t it?” He shrugged again, this time his expression pouting with puppy dog eyes and his damn nose still running blood down his chin to splash red droplets on his hoodie like a twisted Jackson Pollock painting. Jamie had always been a couple inches shorter than Roy, but now slouched against the wall while Roy still crowded him into the bricks he just looked so small, and Roy felt like a giant piece of crap all over again.
“Shit, Jamie,” His right hand came down from the wall to cup around Jamie’s cheek, his thumb running through the mess of blood under Jamie’s nose, clumsily slipping away at a stream that was still rushing. “I–I don’t want to make you think of– don’t want to make you feel–”
“Stop, mate,” Jamie shook his head gently dislodging Roy’s hand. “That’s never gonna happen. You and me dad are like not even in the same category.”
Roy couldn't stop the face he pulled at that.
“You can’t be serious,” Roy threw his arm back gesturing to the bar behind them incredulously. “You were just in that pub talking shit ‘bout older fucking men in your life and now you’re saying we aren’t in the same fucking category.”
It was infuriating how Jamie just rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, that’s what I’m fucking sayin’, grandad.”
Roy squinted at the obvious contradiction of Jamie's nickname for him and the point the younger man was trying to make. He resolved to finally pull away from Jamie and the wall once and for all even if Jamie still clung to his shirt. He would just pry his fingers out of the fabric and reassure the other man he was done hitting him.
Jamie felt the way Roy's body shifted against him and knew he was going to pull away again. Knew it wouldn’t be like last time, that Roy would get himself away from the wall and out of Jamie’s grip somehow, no matter what Jamie did to stop him, and he couldn’t let that happen. Once again, Jamie’s panic brain didn’t really have a solid reason for why that couldn’t happen. But then of course before he fully caught up to it the panic flooded his entire body and Jamie's stupid dumb panic brain was acting on an urge he'd been suppressing since he first got to Richmond.
He pulled Roy in by the grip he had on the man's shirt and kissed him.
The movement was jerky and violent like it was another move in their fight and even as Jamie's neck craned forward to mash their lips together once Roy had stumbled close enough for him to reach it still felt like they were fighting. Especially when Roy's nose bumped into his and sent a hot surge of pain through his senses, but Jamie soldiered through it all, finally getting his lips on Roy Kent’s was worth a little pain.
The older man's chest crashed into Jamie's and pressed them both further into the wall, Roy's palm slipped on the brick and forced him to lean against his forearm instead. Jamie felt absolutely surrounded by him in the best way, and even as Roy was still stiff against him like a plank of wood, even as his own nose still gushed with blood and burned with pain, even as the blood began to mix with his saliva as it wiped off onto Roy's beard, Jamie inexplicably found himself melting into the kiss. He'd been thinking about this since he was ten years old, even if it was absolutely nothing like he imagined it would be Jamie was gonna fucking enjoy it.
For a moment Roy was as still and as solid as the wall Jamie leaned against, but then the iron taste of Jamie's blood seeped into his mouth and the warmth of the striker's lips against his own had his body acting before his brain fully caught up. His hand coming back to Jamie's cheek, his thumb pressing into the hinge of Jamie's jaw forcing the younger man's mouth open for his tongue to slip inside, quickly taking control of the kiss even if Jamie was the one to initiate it. Pressing the entire length of his body against Jamie's, slipping his leg between the other man's and pressing his thigh against the hot length starting to tent Jamie's trousers. His hand slipping around the back of Jamie's neck to slide his fingers into the now well-conditioned walnut mist strands he was so proud of, pulling just enough to move Jamie's head into the perfect spot to thrust his tongue deep into his mouth. Rolling his hips into the younger man's at the same time forcing a loud whine out of Jamie's throat that snapped Roy back to where exactly they were and just who exactly they were.
He reeled back like he'd been smacked, but Jamie's grip on him didn't let him go far, just enough to look into the blissed out expression plastered on the other man's face. Jamie (maddeningly) only took two seconds to breathe before his still bloody lips were curling into a smug smirk.
"See?" His voice rasped. "I ain't snogging me da' like that now am I?" Jamie slouched against the wall, hoping he looked nonchalant and flirty even as he was starting to panic again at Roy’s expression. The man had kissed him back, very enthusiastically if Jamie said so himself, but still Jamie had sprung it on him, adverse reactions were to be expected.
Roy squinted at the man in front of him and his teeth ground against each other from how hard he clenched his jaw. He could feel Jamie’s blood drying on his lips and crusting up his beard, feel the hard press of Jamie’s erection against his thigh, the rise and fall of Jamie’s chest pressing into his every time he took a breath, the ghost of the younger man’s lips on his own. And then Roy realized there was no way for him to feel the clench of Jamie’s fingers in his shirt as some kind of protection against violence anymore, now recognizing the gesture for what it had always been, a desperate way to keep their bodies pressed together in the only way he could. Roy really wanted to be upset about the fact that Jamie decided to forgo the conversation they should’ve been having by kissing him instead, feeling like he should remind the younger man of those sessions with Dr. Fieldstone they’d just talked about, but somehow it made sense in some backwards playground logic kind of way. The reason Jamie had so easily been able to separate Roy’s violence from his father’s now suddenly staring him in the face like a bright neon billboard. Roy and Jamie had been pulling each other’s pigtails and pushing each other off the jungle gym, laughing at each other’s skinned knees and dancing around the fact that they both desperately wanted each other.
Before he could stop himself Roy’s stern expression broke on a soft snort of laughter and he dropped his forehead to rest on Jamie’s shoulder before the younger man could see his lips split into a smile.
"You little shit," Roy growled at the ground, but there was no way to keep the fond edge or the smile out of his voice.
Jamie grinned, "Yeah,” his head fell back against the bricks to look up at the dark night sky finally feeling like he could take a small breath of relief from Roy’s reaction. “It's part of what makes me so sexy."
He couldn’t believe it when his smartass comment forced another huff of laughter from Roy’s lips and Jamie found himself instantly matching it. His grip on Roy’s t-shirt finally loosening to flatten his palms out on the man’s chest instead, finally allowing himself to appreciate the solid muscle of Roy’s pecs underneath them, now that he was positive Roy wouldn’t be pulling away. Jamie’s breathy laughs shaking through his body and pressing him against the more solid form of Roy in front of him. His hips twisted and his thigh pressed up into Roy’s crotch where it was suddenly very obvious that Jamie was not the only one affected by their kiss.
"Holy fuck,” Jamie’s shocked voice broke through his laughter. “You're hard." Or at least half-hard.
Roy didn’t think he had ever heard someone talk about an erection with so much wonder before. He lifted his head off of Jamie’s shoulder to shoot him a look that clearly showed off how ridiculous he found the comment. As if the two of them weren’t just macking on each other like teenagers and grinding like twenty year olds at their first club, as if Jamie’s own erection wasn’t pressed into Roy’s thigh at that very moment.
Roy purposefully shifted his knee to press into the length tenting Jamie’s trousers even harder, smirking when it made the man gasp sharp and wet.
"So are you."
“Ha,” Jamie breathed out a laugh, keeping his eyes up at the sky. "Well, yeah course I am–hng" Roy totally shifted his leg again just to make Jamie stutter, he knows he did. "You were in me room you saw the fucking poster."
Roy blinked at Jamie’s chin, his body froze at the mention of the poster he’d seen plastered to Jamie’s childhood bedroom wall. Having another epiphany about just how long Jamie fucking Tartt has been wanting to get in his fucking pants.
"That–" his voice choked out of his lips without him having a sentence to go with the word. Which seemed to catch Jamie's attention, because he finally looked down from the sky, the blood dripping from his nose the second it was pointed at the ground again.
"Y–you didn't–?" He looked at Roy with pinched brows and confused eyes. "I mean, thought it was obvious." Jamie knew his cheeks were turning pink as he thought about the poster on his wall and just what he was confessing to Roy about it.
"Hm," Roy thought about the poster he’d seen tacked up on that wall next to Keeley’s football tits poster. At the time he’d mostly been focused on how bad his hair had been back then, feeling humiliated that he ever let official posters get printed with it looking that shite. “Figured it was just the usual brand of straight guy hero worship.”
Of course now he was looking at the poster very differently, looking at it through the eyes of a younger (he now realized probably bisexual) Jamie Tartt staring up at a poster of Chelsea player number six, Roy Kent on the wall at the foot of his bed. A poster he’d put right next to a poster of a topless model, a topless model Jamie ended up dating when he grew up, and suddenly Roy had a deeper appreciation for that stupid haircut.
“Yeah, well it’s not.” Even with blood running down his lips, Roy had to admit the way Jamie blushed and stuck out his lower lip just a little bit was cute in a way he’d never been able to let himself think of Jamie being before.
“Well, yeah.” Roy rolled his eyes before rolling his hips into Jamie’s running their erections against each other. “I can feel that now.” He smirked as Jamie’s eyes clenched closed and his fingers twitched on Roy’s chest.
“Hhh,” Jamie whined, still a little bit in awe that Roy Kent’s erection was actually, in real life, pressed against him and he’d been the one to give Roy that erection in the first place.
It was quite the night for Jamie.
He was currently getting to second base with one of the posters he used to masturbate to. Getting to cross a few more items off that one specific bucket list he thought he was already inexplicably lucky enough to cross off the ones about Keeley. Jamie wondered briefly if he would get to cross any more items off that list tonight.
And with that thought Jamie was having the best idea he'd ever had since he kissed Roy just a few seconds ago.
“Oh,” he said it as if he’d just remembered the mail he left on the kitchen counter before dropping to his knees.
Coming face to face with the tent in Roy Kent’s stupidly tight black jeans felt to Jamie how he imagined it was for middle aged mums to meet Oprah. He absently squeezed his own erection through his trousers feeling like he was about to come already. Licking his lips in anticipation and coming away with the taste of his own blood.
“Fuck, Jamie,” Roy rasped in surprised. “What are you–” his right arm came away from the wall to hover right over Jamie’s hair unsure what to do.
Jamie placed his hands on Roy’s hips bracketing his erection between them, his fingertips slipping under the hem of Roy’s shirt and his thumbs fiddled with the button on his jeans. He took a deep breath preparing himself for a sight he’d been wanking off to the thought of seeing since he was a teenager. Bending his head back to look up at Roy from under his lashes, ready to ask if he could suck Roy’s dick in a totally cocky, self-assured, and dead sexy way, but then his eyes met Roy’s and Jamie completely forgot how to breathe.
The older man was looking down at him with this expression that looked so raw and torn open, as if just how much he wanted Jamie was spilling right out of him onto the street. His eyes completely smoldering like the arousal from seeing the younger man on his knees would manifest as a physical fire in his irises, his lower lip clenched between his teeth, jaw twitching from the tension, arm still hovering uselessly in the air next to Jamie’s head, looking better than every wet dream and late night imaginings of this moment combined. Every word died on Jamie’s tongue, except one.
“ Please ,” he didn’t even recognize his own voice as it whined past his lips. He wouldn’t have been surprised if Roy didn’t even hear him, his voice was so soft. But then Roy’s face pinched in a way that meant he’d definitely heard it and Jamie’s fingers curled loosely around the top of Roy’s jeans slipping under the fabric to toy with the button and the zipper, his intentions clear.
“Fuck,” Roy moaned and his hand finally slipped into Jamie’s hair, fingers clenching purposefully. “Yeah, do it.” Roy didn’t necessarily know exactly what he was agreeing to, but he could make an educated guess.
Jamie took a second to take a deep breath before his fingers were moving on Roy’s jeans faster than he had ever taken someone’s trousers off before. Not even remembering to savor the moment when he reached into Roy’s pants and felt the heat of his cock for the first time, pulling it free from the fabric like this wasn’t supposed to be momentous. As if Roy was just some hunk from the club Jamie picked up for an anonymous quickie, but then the second his erection was exposed to open air, time seemed to slow down like someone hit the brakes on a car going 90, smacked Jamie’s head into the windshield, and now he was moving through molasses. His entire body froze as he just held Roy’s cock in one hand and stared at it like the thing had Medusa powers and turned him to stone.
Jamie had been fresh off a sneaky wank with an incognito tab on his phone in secondary school the first time he ever thought about what Roy Kent’s cock might look like. He’d been fresh off the pitch at his first training at Richmond walking into the shower to find a completely shameless Roy Kent showing off his soft cock to the whole shower room and Jamie turned right back around having instantly made adjustments to several fantasies. Eventually he’d been able to handle going into the showers at the same time as his captain, no longer starstruck by the other man’s penis especially when he kind of hated the guy.
But of course, now?
It was a whole different story. Now Roy’s cock was hard and hot and leaking from the tip and in Jamie’s hand and right in front of Jamie’s face and the man himself was waiting for Jamie to put said cock in his mouth and Jamie was certain there had to be brain matter dripping out of his nose along with the blood at this point.
“Jamie?” Roy’s fingers tugged gently at his hair, worried that when he just stopped moving the second Roy’s cock was out of his pants that the younger man wanted to change his mind, but didn’t know how to tell him. Which would be disappointing, sure, Roy liked to get his dick sucked just as much as the next guy, but usually he preferred the person giving him the blowjob to not be catatonic. He would hate if after the fact Jamie had felt pressured to do anything he hadn’t wanted to do, even if it was originally his idea, revoking consent was revoking consent Roy wasn’t a total fucking arsehole, okay? He understood that consent could be taken back at any time and if Jamie had bitten off more than he could chew and was no longer okay with the idea of giving Roy a blowjob then that would be perfectly fine and honestly now that he was thinking about it kind of to be expected, especially when Jamie’s nose was still bleeding and they were in some pub’s seedy back alley and he might have a possible concussion and fuck, Roy should pull Jamie up off the ground right now, actually.
The pull of Roy’s fingers and the sound of his voice worked like a jolt of electricity jumping a car battery and Jamie was finally able to get his brain back online, instantly moving his face even closer to Roy’s dick. Starting at the base where his hand was still wrapped loosely around the shaft, Jamie placed his lips against the silky skin taking a moment to memorize how it felt, before parting his lips and pressing his tongue to it instead. Savoring the salt of his sweat mixed with the soft undertone of soap from a shower obviously taken earlier that day, doing his best to ignore the fact that he was also still tasting his own blood steadily dripping from his nose.
“Shit,” Roy moaned as Jamie’s lips made contact with his dick. His fingers twitching in Jamie's hair as he had to physically force himself to keep his eyes open and watch the younger man’s face. Searching for any signs of duress, but the look on Jamie’s face was the exact opposite. Eyes closed and muscles relaxed, looking almost reverent as his tongue curled around Roy’s cock, like he was taking Holy Communion not sucking dick. Roy had never been so overwhelmed by his partner’s blowjob face before.
Jamie slid his mouth around Roy’s shaft for a long moment, laying open mouth kisses along every inch, curling his tongue around all the exposed skin, making the erection shine with spit and stray nose blood in the low glow of the street lights without ever taking it fully into his mouth. Jamie didn’t know the next time Roy would let him suck his dick, didn't know if he ever would again, actually. So he’d convinced himself that he had to take his time and take in every detail in case Jamie never got to do this again. Even if it was messy and gross and he was mostly tasting the iron of his own blood rather than the musk Roy’s sweat, Jamie wanted every detail of this moment imprinted in his brain forever. When he was a senile old man in the nursing home he wanted to still be able to remember the exact temperature and texture and taste of Roy’s dick in his mouth. His tongue curled around the sensitive pink head slipping the point of his tongue into the slit and greedily lapping up the drops of Roy’s precum that leaked from it. Taking a moment to memorize the specific salty taste unique to Roy separating it from the sharp iron of his own blood, before he wrapped his lips around the head instead. Feeling like the whole world narrowed down to a pinprick, like the volume knob had been turned off and the screen brightness was turned low, unable to hear anything but the rush of his own blood in his ears, unable to see in front of him even if his eyes were still squinted open, unable to even think beyond the weight of Roy’s cock on his tongue. Distantly he thinks he heard Roy curse again and the man’s hips twitched just enough for another centimeter of his shaft to slip through Jamie’s lips before it slipped right out again. Jamie was falling forward and chasing that centimeter like the only thing his body could do was put more of the older man's dick in his mouth. Moving slow because he couldn’t just swallow Roy fucking Kent’s cock to the root in an instant, not because he wasn't able to but because he needed to take his time. He needed to take a moment to suckle on and to taste each centimeter of skin that filled his mouth before moving on to the next, needed to lavish the same attentions on every bit of silky sensitive skin until his lips were finally being scratched by Roy’s pubic hair. He swallowed around the shaft in his throat just because he could and was rewarded by a sharp tug at his hair.
“Fuck, Jamie–shit,” Roy’s hips twitched unconsciously and Jamie wanted him to fuck his throat so bad, was so close to pulling off and making just that request when Roy kept talking instead. “Where the fuck did you learn to deepthroat?”
Training camp, but that wasn’t important right now.
Jamie moaned around the mouthful of Roy’s cock and the older man pulled his hair hard enough to make Jamie’s cock kick in his pants.
“Fuck– just—” Roy started pulling on Jamie’s hair more purposefully clearly trying to get Jamie to pull off his dick. Which Jamie didn’t necessarily want to do, but did so anyway, letting Roy’s length slide out of his mouth almost as slowly as he slid it in. Stopping when it was just the head resting on his tongue to suck out any bit of precum dribbling from the slit. “Jamie–”
Roy sounded like he was going to say something stupid like that Jamie should get up off the ground, so Jamie cut him off instead.
“Y'should fuck me mouth,” Jamie’s voice slurred, accent thick and tone rough and scratchy. He looked up at Roy’s face and felt his own cock pulse at the way the older man was looking down at him.
“Wha–” Roy spluttered, eyes going wide and jaw falling slack at Jamie’s comment, his dick jerking in Jamie’s hand at the thought.
Jamie’s eyes snapped back to Roy’s length as he felt how hard it jolted in his hand and the smug smirk curled up onto his lips without thought. Looking back into Roy’s eyes and finally feeling able to be a cocky prick again since he got on his knees, knowing just what to say to mess with the man above him.
“ Coach .” Jamie knew there was blood sticking to his teeth as he stretched his lips over them and let his tongue fall out in that way that always made Roy roll his eyes at him. Knew his eyes must look sex drunk and dazed and wondered what kind of picture he must make for Roy looking down at him on his knees. Had to be a good one for Roy’s cock to pulse in his hand another time after he called him ‘coach’.
“Little shit.” Roy growled, baring his teeth and feeling like he couldn’t breathe as Jamie’s stupidly long and stupidly broad tongue flopped out of his mouth right next to Roy’s erection. His hand was tightening in Jamie's hair and pulling the man's mouth back onto his dick before the other could fully get his tongue back inside.
The pain surged through Jamie’s entire body from how roughly Roy dragged him back in by his hair, brain whiting out in pleasure. Mind falling blissfully blank the second Roy’s cock made contact with his tongue again, hearing the ocean roaring in his ears, eyes falling closed. Sparks of pleasure pain flickered through his body as Jamie gagged on the sudden intrusion of Roy's shaft in his mouth inching its way down his throat.
Even if Jamie gave him the all clear, Roy didn’t think it would be very courteous to just shove his dick down the younger man’s throat without care and so he did his best to move slow. Filling Jamie's throat one inch at a time until his nose brushed against Roy’s stomach, pulling back the second he felt the contact. Stopping when only the head of his cock was left in Jamie’s mouth, taking in the look on the man’s face searching for any sign of discomfort, but that same weird reverent church going look was all that he saw. Roy picked up the pace after that, first using his grip in Jamie's hair to pull him up and down the shaft, before his arousal took over and he held Jamie's head in one spot while progressively rocking his hips faster and faster. The wet velvety heat of Jamie’s mouth too good to resist holding back from for too long and then the younger man started whining and moaning around him and Roy was sure Jamie didn’t even know he was doing it. The vibrations instantly and addictively heightening the pleasure Roy was feeling, but what really made his knees wobble was the fact that it was confirmation that Jamie was getting off on this too. Even as his hands remained clenched around Roy’s hips ineffectual and just holding on for dear life, no one touching his own straining erection just swallowing Roy’s, Jamie was still very interested in the proceedings.
Holy fuck . Jamie was gonna come in his pants without one single touch to his own fucking dick. Roy’s cock thrust into his mouth fast and hard and Jamie held on for dear motherfucking life, whining, whimpering, moaning, and shaking the whole way through. Spit and blood running down his chin creating an even bigger mess of his hoodie, but Jamie was way too lost to worry about his future dry cleaning bill at the moment. Completely gone on the rapid in and out of Roy’s cock, silky, hard, and hot sliding over Jamie’s tongue and down his throat. He swallowed around the shaft and any loose drool he could, gulped in breaths of air when he was able to, and let himself be used and guided however and wherever Roy wanted, his brain going blissfully blank even while his own cock throbbed painfully against the zipper of his jeans. The sharp iron of his blood a constant aftertaste as it mixed with his saliva and the precum dribbling from Roy’s slit, certain he'd swallowed as much of his own blood as spit tonight.
“Fuck– Jamie, I’m gonna–” Roy gritted past his clenched teeth, ready to pull Jamie off and come on the street, but as his hand pulled backwards Jamie moved forwards. “Shit– Jamie, seriously, I–”
Jamie tore his eyes open feeling like he just ran twenty suicide drills to do it and looked up at Roy’s face, furrowing his brows and steeling his eyes hoping he looked at least a little bit stern as he made sure to keep his lips firmly wrapped around Roy’s erection. Making sure the older man’s eyes were locked on his before he hollowed his cheeks and sucked down on the head of his cock. Hard. Rewarded by Roy’s face instantly crumpling like a cheap deck of cards, eyes falling shut, lips spread in a sneer, teeth grinding together, every muscle in his entire body going tense for a long moment before in a rush Roy’s come was shooting into his mouth. Jamie choked as the spurts hit the back of his throat before he could swallow, but kept his lips wrapped tight around the shaft, unwilling to let a single drop get away. The salty taste of Roy’s come drowning out the iron taste of his blood for the first time since he got on his knees. Savoring and memorizing every bit of it before it mixed with the combination of blood and saliva in his mouth. Pleasure center wires crossing even more, as he found a sick twisted shock of arousal in the stark contrast of flavors in the mixture of his own taste and Roy's.
“Fuck,” Roy groaned pressing his sweat covered forehead into the cool bricks in front of him, leaning hard against his forearm still propped up on the wall as his leg muscles worked on becoming solid once again. His abs still twitching as Jamie continued to suckle on his softening cock. Roy rolled his eyes at the dreamy expression still plastered all over the younger man’s face even with slobber, blood, and come dripping from his chin. “Will you–” Roy cut himself off, pushing Jamie’s head away and tucking himself back into his pants before leaning down and wrapping his hands under Jamie’s armpits.
Hoisting his completely slack body to a standing position was a lot more difficult than Roy wanted it to be considering Jamie made no move to help. Instead the striker was as motionless and as heavy as a pile of rocks while Roy pulled his body up off the ground. Roy pressed his own body into Jamie’s once the man was upright enough to do so, worried if he let go without that he’d just fall back to the ground all over again. His eyes were distant and unfocused, his mouth still hung open in a daze and if Roy didn’t feel the extremely hard press of the man’s erection against his hip he might think about taking Jamie to the hospital for a concussion again.
Roy slipped his right arm between their bodies, making quick work of the button and fly of Jamie’s jeans. Hand sliding into his briefs and wrapping around Jamie’s length the second his trousers were out of the way enough to do so.
Finally Jamie seemed to come back online once Roy was touching his cock, body jerking like he was shocked with electricity, legs finally seeming to solidify as they widened their stance to give Roy more access, arms shooting up to clutch onto the back of Roy’s shirt.
“Oh, fuck,” he moaned as his eyes clenched closed and Roy couldn’t help thinking he sounded almost surprised that Roy was touching him back. That it was a shock for him to reciprocate the orgasm Jamie just gave him.
Roy pushed past that thought and leaned in to press his lips against Jamie’s instead, chasing the lingering flavor of his own come on the younger man's tongue while being overhwelmed by thetall consuming metal of his blood. Pumping his hand along Jamie’s shaft as he devoured the other man’s mouth, tongue curling to lap up his own taste and Jamie’s. Lips slipping through mixtures of blood, saliva, and come. Neatly trimmed beard rubbing red friction burns into Jamie’s chin. Mouth swallowing every whimper, whine, and groan vibrating through his throat. Hand stroking and squeezing the soft overheated skin of the striker's erection. Reveling in how easy it was to turn Jamie into a pliant mess clutching desperately to his shirt and whimpering into his mouth as his whole body shuddered the closer Roy drove him towards his peak. Twisting his hand on Jamie’s cockhead and spreading precum on his palm before running his hand down the shaft.
Jamie gasped into Roy’s mouth as the older man ran the rough pad of his thumb along the slit on his tip. He really had no idea what was even happening anymore. The world around him had completely disappeared a long time ago and the only things he knew now were the hard press of Roy’s body in front of him, the cold bricks pushed up against his back, the perfect squeeze of Roy’s hand on his cock, and the hot wet relentless twisting of Roy’s tongue in his mouth. As far as Jamie could tell nothing else in the world existed right now as he got closer and closer to the part where he spills his come all over Roy’s hand. His jaw fell slack and his tongue drooped heavy unable to even lethargically follow Roy’s kiss anymore and his hands tightened in the fabric of Roy’s ripped t-shirt, every muscle in his body going still and pulling taut like a bowstring.
Roy pulled away from Jamie’s mouth when he felt the man’s body go completely still, recognizing the signs of an oncoming orgasm, pressing sloppy kisses along Jamie’s jawline until he reached the younger man’s ear.
“You gonna come, Jamie?” He made sure his voice was as deep and rumbly as he could make it.
Jamie’s only response was to whine, high-pitched and needy while clawing at Roy’s back, hips twitching into the ring of the older man’s fingers frantically.
Roy smirked and was almost disappointed Jamie wouldn’t be able to see his expression as he rumbled into the younger man’s ear once more.
“Go on, Jamie.” He tightened his grip around Jamie’s shaft and stroked slow and long and deliberate. “Be a good boy and come for me.”
Roy really didn’t know exactly what reaction he expected, but when Jamie completely shattered in his arms, Roy figured he should probably file that away for later use.
“Ah hah!” Jamie sobbed as his dick jumped and splattered come all over Roy’s fingers, voice loud and wet and broken in the cold night air.
His whole body shook like a centrifuge. Head thrown back into the bricks with another possible concussion-inducing thwack, as his fingers tore ag the threads of Roy’s already distressed t-shirt, looking like the only porn star Roy would want to watch from then on. Roy gently stroked his slowly softening dick caressing him through the aftershocks as Jamie’s muscles started to unbunch and relax.
Roy pulled his hand away from Jamie and held it up to examine the mess of cum on his fingers, before trailing his eyes back to where Jamie slouched against the wall, eyes closed with his lower lip bitten between his teeth, blood still dripping from his nose. He could feel the way Jamie’s fingers still clung loosely to the back of his shirt as the spasming of his body turned into light twitching instead. Nose still bleeding slightly, spit and blood staining his face and hoodie, hair tangled and messed up, panting like he’d just run a marathon. Roy looked down his own body to see the rip in his shirt along with the now scabbed over scratches from Jamie’s fingernails, saw Jamie’s drying blood splattered in his beard and in his chest hair, darker patches of black stained into his trousers and pants that he knew had to be some combination of Jamie’s spit and Jamie’s blood.
The two of them were definitely in quite the state.
And there was only one thing Roy had on his mind.
Or, one person , he has on his mind, actually.
“Come on,” Roy pushed away from the wall, only taking one step away from Jamie still worried he might fall without Roy holding him up. “I’ve got tissues in my car,” he continued when was satisfied that Jamie would keep himself upright. “We can clean up on the way.”
“Wh–” Jamie choked on a lump in his throat he didn’t know was there, coughing quickly before he slid his eyes open furrowing his brows in confusion. Wondering what the heck else Roy could want from him after all of that. “Where we goin’?”
“Keeley’s.”