Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Something broke free and rattled loose in Roy Kent’s heart in Amsterdam. He didn’t know what it was, but he could feel it in there, shaking with every breath and hitting against his ribs and poking his chest at night when he was trying to sleep alone in the bed that felt far too big for him. It settled down a bit when he went to fetch Jamie and found him waiting at the door, bright-eyed and eager. Always so eager. Jamie fucking loved the extra training. Roy knew this because Jamie told him but also because he never balked at anything Roy told him to do, never questioned a thing, even let Roy tie him up to a fucking bike and drag him through Richmond with a cheerful smile.

The benefit of the extra training and the evolution of Jamie’s physique and skills wasn’t immediately obvious until the first team training after Ted announced his fucking insane plan to switch to his version of Total Football, a concept he had hallucinated on a combination of mushrooms and barbeque sauce. All of the lads were out there puking, passing out, acting like Roy was killing them, and Jamie didn’t even slow down. Jamie didn’t even break a sweat. Roy knew he could have left Jamie out there after everybody else went to shower with the order to go for another hour and he’d fucking do it. He’d be fucking perfect at it, too. That’s when some other piece of Roy’s heart started to shift, breaking away and working into his bloodstream, traveling up to his brain.

If they stopped their extra training right then, it wouldn’t negatively impact Jamie’s game. He had stamina and speed that he didn’t have before and it didn’t matter what strategy they used, if it was Lasso’s Total Football or something Beard hallucinated on frog venom, Jamie would be successful at it. But Roy wasn’t about to stop training–for one thing, he didn’t want to stop training Jamie. For another thing, he knew there was still more he could do. Jamie could be even better. The thought itself was intoxicating, especially after the Arsenal match when Jamie shifted himself to midfield, announced that was Total Football, and then went on to prove it beyond a doubt. Watching Jamie methodically orchestrate that score, moving all the pieces into place for Richard to have an uncontested route to the goal left Roy breathless and proud, exuberant, happy. Really fucking happy. Fucking elated, actually. Roy used to get this head-in-the-clouds-high from football all the time, but it had been years since he felt like this. Roy wanted to see Jamie after the match, but he had plans with the rest of the team, and that was fucking great, Roy didn’t want to interfere with that. Then he would have the next day off from training, and that was fine, too, Jamie had fucking earned a rest. Roy could survive one day without spending time with Jamie. Even if he didn’t like the idea very much.

Since it was Jamie’s day off, Roy didn’t set his alarm for three like he did every other day of the week, but his phone still went off at three.

“Wassit?” Roy answered sleepily.

“I don’t feel good, Coach.”

“Jamie? Where are you?”

“Um, here. At your door.”

“What’s wrong? Are you injured?”

“No. No, it’s nothing like that. It’s just…it’s dumb. Never mind. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Stop. Don’t move. I’ll be right down.”

Roy was used to getting calls from Ruth at all hours when she needed him to take Phoebe, and so by the time he pulled on his joggers, he was fully alert. Jamie had been to his house before, but only a handful of times. Jamie’s house was more convenient to Nelson Road, and besides that, Roy didn’t like having people in his house. But he didn’t hesitate to open the front door and pull Jamie inside. Jamie put his arms up like he wanted a hug and then dropped them again to wind his hands through the hem of his shirt and clench them into tight fists. Tension was radiating off of him, visible in the set of his shoulders and the tight frown between his eyes. Was he upset about the match? Roy rejected the idea as soon as it occurred to him. They lost, but Jamie didn’t dwell on losses, he was great at looking forward to the next match, the next opportunity.

“What’s going on?”

“I–” Jamie exhaled and shook his head.

It was on the tip of Roy’s tongue to snap I can’t help if you won’t fucking talking to me but he swallowed the words. He’d never seen Jamie quite like this and he didn’t know if shouting at him would make him listen or make him cry. Roy didn’t want to see him cry.

“Come on, I’ll put on the kettle.”

There were only two clean mugs in the cupboard because Jamie’s day off was his day off, too, and the day he got caught up shit like that. One was a normal sized white mug and the other was a giant black mug that Roy hated and that’s why it was always clean. He couldn’t even remember why he had it. Maybe it was a gift? He did remember it came from that terrible era when Friends was so popular and those stupid mugs were every fucking where. An era Jamie wouldn’t even remember.

“Sorry I woke you,” Jamie muttered.

“You’re alright,” Roy said, and he meant it. He was up at three in the morning yesterday for Jamie and he would be up at three in the morning tomorrow. Why would he mind today? “You celebrate with the lads tonight?”

“No. I mean, yes. Wasn’t really celebrating, though was it.”

“What were you doing?”

“Helping Sam with the restaurant. It was.” Jamie blinked his eyes rapidly and looked away. “It was fucked up, Roy. We cleaned it up, you know, and Mr. Obisanya made everybody dinner and we got the lights working and it was…it was good. It’s all good, fixed up you know .”

Roy knew about the vandalism but hadn’t seen it himself. He’d honestly been impressed with Sam’s ability to go through training and then the match with as much focus and dedication as he always had. Maybe that was Roy had assumed it wasn’t too bad, but Jamie was chewing on his thumb like it was far from all good.

“I’m sure he was happy for your help. Is he doing okay?”

“Seemed like it when we left. I mean, he’s Sam.” Jamie scrubbed his hands over his face. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. But I don’t even know why I’m…I mean it didn’t happen to me. And I think about what if he was there?”

“Well, don’t think about that. He wasn’t there and imagining the worst case scenario isn’t going to help anybody.” Roy felt like the world’s biggest hypocrite–the worst fucking scenarios were running through his head nearly all day every day.

“Yes, coach.”

“What do you…what does it feel like?” Roy asked, helplessly. He didn’t know what was wrong either, but Jamie was here now, so what choice did he have but to try to get him through it?

“Like…like last year? At Wembley, I mean. Kind of like that. Here.” Jamie pointed to his chest, just below his heart. “Like I’m going to be sick. And when I thought about what made me feel better, it was…it was you.”

Roy stilled as the implication settled over him. Jamie was there specifically because he needed Roy. But what Roy supposed to do about it? What had he done before? Did Jamie just need a hug? Well, no, he probably also needed a session or two with Dr. Fieldstone, but she wasn’t there and Roy was.

“Come over here, Jamie.”

Jamie shuffled around the kitchen island, absently winding his hands around his shirt again. He looked young. Well, Jamie always looked young to Roy–the whole fucking team did–but now he looked like he was drawn on himself and unsure. Like he wasn’t sure what Roy would want with him, but he was bracing himself for the worst. He even flinched when Roy reached for him–not an unfamiliar gesture. Roy had actually seen him do that several times when somebody moved too quickly near his face. But he relaxed the second he felt Roy’s arms around him. The difference was immediate, like a balloon popping and deflating.

The hug at Wembley had been pure instinct, Roy acting before he had a chance to second-guess himself and then holding on because he didn’t know what the fuck else he should do while Jamie soaked his kit with tears. This hug was more intentional, but still confusing. Was this the right thing to do? Was this what Jamie was asking for?

Was this what Jamie needed from him?

Or was there something more he could be doing? Or should be doing? It seemed like something had been triggered, some lingering trauma or anxiety, and shouldn’t Jamie have some sort of professional help in that case? This was far above Roy’s pay grade as his coach and far beyond Roy’s ability as a friend, but Jamie just clung to him like he thought somebody was going to try to pull him off and haul him away.

Jamie gradually started to relax, and Roy relaxed with him, but didn’t drop his arms. Honestly, for as much as Roy didn’t like hugging, hugging Jamie wasn’t so bad. Especially if he was actually helping Jamie and not making it worse somehow. The heat of Jamie’s body pressed against his was a little uncomfortable, but nice, too, and Jamie’s hair smelled good, not as much like chemicals as Roy would have expected. So he just held on until Jamie finally sniffled and took a step back.

“Cheers.” Jamie’s voice was hoarse and he didn’t sound any better than he did before. “I just…that helped, yeah.”

“Good.”

“I’ll…I’ll go now. Get out of your hair.”

“Sit down, Tartt. I’m fixing you a cuppa.” Roy waited until Jamie was perched on a chair before asking, “You get any sleep tonight?”

“Nah. Haven’t been home.”

“You were at the restaurant until two in the morning?”

“No, were done around eleven, I think.”

“What have you been doing?”

“Nothing. Driving around. Just didn’t want to go home.”

“Why not?”

“Bit lonely.”

Roy understood that. For years, he was never alone. He had somebody new in his bed to keep him company almost every night, he had a fucking deranged pack of paps following his every move, to the point he wondered if they even had their own homes and families, and of course, he always had his teammates. He was twenty-three when he was named team captain, and from that moment on he could expect calls at all hours of the night because if somebody got in trouble, he would be the one they called. He hated it. Until it all fucking stopped and then Roy realized the solitude he thought he craved really wasn’t that great.

“You can sleep here. Don’t need you falling asleep behind the wheel or some shit when the team is finally getting good.”

Jamie gave him a half-smile, which was better than nothing. “Thanks, coach.”

“And next time you want to come over, just fucking come over.”

“Alright.”

“Here.” Roy handed him the oversized mug. “It’s just herbal tea, no caffeine. Put you right out.”

“What the fuck is up with this cup, man?”

“Nothing.”

“It’s enormous.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

“Is it for a giant or something?”

“Looks like a regular cup to me. Now shut up and drink your tea.”

“Yes, coach.”

#

Roy woke up the next morning with an immediate sense of dread. His alarm didn’t go off. He’d forgotten something. He overslept. He reached for his phone, expecting to see a bunch of missed calls and angry texts from his sister, but there was nothing. Except for the clock informing him it was nearly fucking ten in the morning.

“Fuuuuuck.” Ruth was going to bring Phoebe over at eight. And if Ruth rolled into work late, people might fucking die.

He was about to ring her up to start apologizing and tell her he was on his way over to get Phoebe when he smelled something unexpected. Food. Specifically rashers. Curiosity replacing panic, he pulled a robe over his pajamas and followed the enticing smell out of his room and down the stairs.

“Good morning, Uncle Roy! Jamie’s making breakfast!”

Jamie was indeed making breakfast. A full fry-up from the looks of it. Roy opened his mouth, prepared to start yelling about Jamie wrecking his kitchen, but snapped it closed again when he realized Jamie wasn’t wrecking anything. He was tidying up as he cooked, there were no dishes stacked in the sink, and the counters were all wiped clean. There were three place settings laid out on the table, complete with a juice cup for Phoebe and coffee cups at the other two plates. It was fucking weird. But nice.

“It’s just ‘bout done if you want to have a seat,” Jamie said cheerfully.

Phoebe scrambled down from her stool and hurried over to the table. “Come sit down, Uncle Roy.”

Still feeling very weird about the entire situation, Roy sat at the table next to Phoebe. “Since when do you know how to cook?”

“Since I was a wee lad,” Jamie said, his voice still cheerful. “Cooked for myself and Mummy. She worked two jobs, you know, so somebody had to do it.”

Jamie served them both, including Phoebe’s orange juice and Roy’s coffee, before sitting down with his own plate. Roy was almost prepared to hate it just out of the principle–that principle being nobody was allowed to cook in his kitchen but him–but he couldn’t even pretend to hate it.

“This is fucking delicous.”

Jamie smiled widely. “Glad you like it.”

“Eat your tomatoes, too,” Roy said, pointing at Phoebe’s plate with his fork. “You gotta eat your veg if you’re going to be a footballer.”

Phoebe’s bottom lip came out for a moment, but she obediently stabbed at the tomato and took a bite. “Jamie said he would teach me how to ride a bike today.”

Roy’s brows came together. “Did he?”

“I actually said that if it was alright with Uncle Roy, I would teach you how to ride a bike.”

“How is he going to do that if you don’t even have a bike?” Roy asked.

“Well, you can buy me a bike.” Phoebe smiled her toothy smile at him. “Please?”

“We’ll see. If you eat your breakfast and don’t talk with your mouth full.”

“Thank you, Uncle Roy!”

Roy rolled his eyes. He could have pointed out that he never promised he would buy her a bike, but they both knew that was exactly what he was going to do. Not just because she asked, and not because Jamie offered to teach her, but because he wanted her to have a better life than he did. He missed out on fucking decades of something he now loved because of his own pigheadedness. He didn’t want her to miss out on one more day. Didn’t want her to inherit his fears and doubts, all of the parts of him he hated most. From the first moment he held her, he vowed he would keep all that shit as far away from her as possible, and for the most part he’d been successful, but then something like this shit would creep in and force him to accept that despite his best intentions, he was still holding her back in some ways. He was sure he was fucking up in ways he couldn’t even imagine, ways that wouldn’t even become clear to him until she was grown and he could look back with that perfect 20/20 hindsight that showed him all of his other fuckups in astounding clarity.

“Roy? Can you pass over the hot sauce please?”

Roy responded to Jamie’s request on auto-pilot, his thoughts still spiraling until he felt the brush of Jamie’s fingers against his, jolting him out of his head. Jamie was looking at him like he could read Roy’s mind, knew everything he was thinking. Not just that there was something wrong, but exactly what shit was pulling at him, holding him down, keeping him from enjoying his breakfast with Phoebe. Which is what he should have been doing instead of imagining all the ways he fucked up her development by not buying her a bike sooner.

“Thanks, mate.”

Roy grunted. “Make sure you pour that all over Phoebe’s food, too.”

“What? No!”

“Yeah, you love hot sauce.”

“I hate it.”

“You told me yesterday you loved it,” Roy said, straight-faced.

“I didn’t! Jamie, I didn’t say that.”

“I believe you. But you gotta remember, your Uncle Roy’s old. His brain plays tricks on him, don’t it?”

“Oi!” Roy protested as Phoebe started to laugh. “Don’t be a prick.”

“That’s a pound, Uncle Roy.”

Jamie’s smile widened. “She charges you for every swear?”

“Yeah, and she’ll charge you, too.”

“Me? I never swear. How much does he owe you, Pheebs?”

“I’ll have to get my notebook. I’ll be right back!”

She raced out of the room and Roy resumed eating, but he could see from the corner of his eye that Jamie wasn’t moving.

“Um, just wanted to say that I didn’t mean to overstep or nothing.”

“Overstep what?” Roy asked, confused.

“I mean, this morning. I was heading home, right? And I opened the door and your sister and Phoebe were right there looking confused and I told ‘em you had a late night, so I was going to be making you breakfast.”

“Uh huh.”

“So yeah. That’s all.”

“So what are you apologizing for? Letting me have a lie in? Cooking my food? Keeping Phoebe entertained?”

“I don’t know. Maybe all of it?”

Roy rolled his eyes. “Don’t be an idiot, Tartt.”

“So this is alright then?”

“Yes.”

Jamie’s shoulders relaxed and he sat back in his chair. “Mint.”

Phoebe returned to the table, her ledgerbook in hand. The agreement to pay a pound for every swear did nothing to curb Roy’s tendency towards profanity, but it sure helped Phoebe with her math skills. When he finally settled his tab with her, she’d have enough to buy her first home.

“Eleven thousand, five hundred, and forty six pounds,” she announced.

“Whoa. That’s a lot. And how long have you been keeping track?”

“Two years.”

“Two years? Oh well then that’s nothing. I’ll keep track, too, and we’ll get that number doubled in no time.”

“Deal!”

“No deal,” Roy growled. “If you’re done eating, go wash up so we can go to the shops.”

Phoebe bolted from her chair again, but her plate was nearly empty–including her tomatoes–so Roy thought he could finish his breakfast in peace. Even though Jamie Tartt was sitting across the table from him, humming between bites and tapping his toes on the floor and scraping his silverware across his plate, and slurping from his coffee, and just being Jamie Tartt in general. Roy didn’t hate having him there. In fact, it was much preferable to what Roy thought he would be doing that morning, which was not seeing Jamie Tartt at all and trying to pretend he didn’t miss the little prick.

“Jamie! Can you braid my hair?”

“Sure, yeah,” Jamie said, wiping his hands clean on his napkin and turning in his chair. “You got a scrunchy?”

“Yeah! See?”

“Oh, that’s pretty. Okay, turn around here.”

Roy had struggled for what felt like a year to get a properly even braid, and he wasn’t even trying to do anything complicated, he was just trying to make her presentable for school. But Jamie took to the task like he missed his calling working in a salon, creating even parts and then manipulating her hair back into a very well-done french braid. Of course the fucking prick was good at just about everything he put his mind to.

“Alright, all done.”

“Do I look good, Uncle Roy?”

“Perfect. Go get your boots on. Oi! What do you say?”

“Thanks, Jamie!”

“My pleasure, innit?”

And Jamie looked like it was exactly his pleasure to french braid Phoebe’s hair and then stand to start clearing the table of the breakfast he had made. It wasn’t difficult to read Jamie. In fact, Roy had never known anybody he understood as well as Jamie. Which was fucking weird when he thought about it. But nearly everybody else was a fucking mystery to him, their thoughts and emotions hard for him to decipher–the closer he got, the harder it got. Like how it was getting hard for him to read small print on the back of labels and his fucking phone. But not Jamie. Right now, Jamie was happy–pleased even–and comfortable. Really fucking comfortable in Roy’s kitchen. He moved with the easy grace he had when he wasn’t thinking he was just doing, like in that final score against Arsenal, and his mouth wasn’t smiling anymore, but his eyes were. It was like the night before never happened, whatever hurt he’d been trying to navigate completely gone, blown away in the wind.

If it were up to Roy, Jamie Tartt would always be like this. Not necessarily comfortable–he didn’t need Jamie to be comfortable during training, in fact, he needed the exact opposite of that. But physical discomfort in the pursuit of being better was a pleasure in and of itself, and there was no denying they both felt that pleasure. Whether or not Jamie was happy the rest of the time wasn’t really up to Roy, was it? But why couldn’t it be? Look how easy it was to do.

“I’m ready!” Phoebe announced. “When are we leaving.”

Roy wiped his mouth and pushed away from the table. “Five minutes. So you better make sure you’re actually ready.”

“I’ll just finish tidying up and head out,” Jamie said as Roy brought his plate over to the sink.

“You’re coming with us. This was your idea.”

Jamie’s face lit up like Roy was planning on buying him a fucking bicycle and–fuck, did Jamie have a bicycle himself? Roy had never thought to ask because when they went out for their morning training, Jamie was tied to Roy’s bike. Well, what did it matter? Roy didn’t need to buy one for Jamie, that was ridiculous. Unless he really didn’t have one. It wouldn’t be fair to make Jamie teach them both how to ride if he didn’t even have his own, right?

In the end, Jamie didn’t ask Roy to buy him a bike, of course. Roy would have done it, though, if he had. They took Phoebe’s new purple bicycle to the park, where she picked up the whole balancing thing much, much quicker than Roy. It was actually fucking embarassing when Roy remembered how many times he ate shit compared to how quickly she got the hang of it. But she was far more clever than Roy, and that wasn’t something in dispute, so he wasn’t really surprised. It turned into a bit of a training session for Jamie anyway, because he spent the afternoon running beside her through the park. Once she got started, she didn’t want to stop.

Who taught Jamie how to ride a bike? Roy had a hard time believing his piece of shit ballsack father would have taken the time, and knowing the little bit he did know, he very much hoped Jamie was spared from that experience. God, he wished he could go back in time and spare Jamie from everything that fucking hooligan put him through. Maybe it was his mum, one Boxing day afternoon, or maybe one of his friends or even one of his coaches. Not that it mattered. It was just another little detail of Jamie’s life that Roy didn’t know and didn’t need to know, but he was curious anyway.

When the sun started to sink behind the trees, Roy shouted, “Whistle!” and even though Jamie was clear across the green, he responded immediately, shifting direction and waving at Phoebe to follow him. They were both pink-cheeked and smiling when they reached him, and he realized with a curious twinge in his chest just how close in color their eyes were.

“Have fun?”

“Oh, yes! Thank you Uncle Roy for my bike! I love it.”

“Good. Did you thank Jamie for showing you how to use it?”

“Thank you, Jamie!”

“Eh, I didn’t do nothing. You’re a natural. Just like your Uncle Roy.”

Roy had been anything but, so he just rolled his eyes. “Let’s go home.”

Phoebe pedalled a few feet in front of them, and Jamie fell in step beside him. Roy shoved his hands in his pockets and tried not to notice that Jamie was walking right there. Crowding him. It wasn’t annoying. Far from it. The problem was that Roy wanted to pull him even closer. And Roy wasn’t even sure that was a problem.

Ruth wasn’t working an all-night shift, so she was there to pick up a completely knackered Phoebe just after dinner. Despite yawning almost every other word, she excitedly recounted her day, from the special breakfast Jamie made to Uncle Roy buying her a bike to how much fun it was to ride the bike!

“You taught her how to ride a bike?” Ruth asked.

“Jamie did.”

“Ah. Okay. That makes sense. I knew it couldn’t be you.”

“I know how to ride a bike!”

“Since when?”

“Since Jamie taught me, too.”

Ruth’s eyebrows came together. “Oh, really? We’ll talk later.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Roy said under his breath.

“It sounds like there’s a lot to talk about.”

“Well, there’s not. Go home. Get out of my house.”

“Goodnight, Uncle Roy.”

Roy dropped down to give her a hug and a kiss. “Goodnight. Be good. Love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“I’ll call you,” Ruth said.

“Get out. Go.”

“That was fun today,” Jamie said, once Roy shut the door behind them.

“Yeah.”

“It’s really…good, you know, that she has you.”

“I think I’ve got the better part of the deal, actually. Thank you, Jamie.”

“What for?”

“For today you muppet. It was nice.”

“Nah, I should be the one thanking you. Bet you’re ready for some peace and quiet, eh?”

Roy knew it was probably Jamie who needed some peace and quiet, and he couldn’t think of one good reason for Jamie to stay. Besides the fact that Roy wanted him to stay. He was almost completely certain that Jamie would stay if Roy asked him to, but that seemed like too much of an imposition. Maybe Jamie wanted to sleep in his own bed, shower in his own shower, change into some clean clothes, do whatever else Jamie did when he was alone. Did Jamie like being alone? Some people needed that, didn’t they? Keeley did. He tried not to think about Jamie and Keeley’s relationship, but his thoughts weren’t always fully under his control, and he wondered if she’d ever felt smothered by Jamie’s attention? Jamie seemed perfectly happy to spend all of his free time with Roy, but would he even tell Roy when he’d had enough?

“Go on. Get some sleep. I’ll see you at four sharp.”

Jamie grinned. “Yes, coach.”

Roy hated the way an empty house sounded. Ten years ago he would have fled into the night to avoid that silence, prowling through clubs or pubs, anywhere really where he could find somebody to keep him company. Hell, just five years ago he spent too much time at Bones & Honey, drinking more than he should have been while he was in training, and pulling anybody who would give him a second glance. When he was with Keeley, he never wanted to come back here to the empty rooms and the silence that felt like a mountain sitting on top of him. He still felt guilty about that, pushing her to the point of screaming, making her crazy just to avoid being alone with himself.

Nothing was stopping him from going to Bones & Honey right then, except he still wanted to change. Taking some stranger to bed wouldn’t be anything except a very temporary solution to his problem, and as soon it was over, he would feel empty. And empty was the best case scenario.

Roy went upstairs and glanced into the room he was already thinking of as Jamie’s. The bed was perfectly made. Nothing was out of place. There was no sign of Jamie at all. No reason why there should be. No reason why Roy should even care, but he was disappointed anyway.

#

“I’m knackered,” Jamie announced, collapsing on Roy’s couch with a dramatic sigh.

He had every right to be. He played hard, physical, football. Not letting up for one second. He was everything the team needed him to be. He did everything asked of him. He left it all on the pitch and they fucking won. And it didn’t look like it was some sort of fluke. It was a good fucking win, and it meant even better fucking wins were on the horizon, and Roy was about bursting, he was so fucking happy and so fucking proud. He expected Jamie to share in the elation, but it seemed like he skipped right over the celebration for the pain and exhaustion of the morning after. Roy had been more than a little surprised when Jamie opted to follow him out to the carpark instead of pile into Sam’s car for a night out.

Jamie surprised him even more when he dropped onto the sofa like his legs stopped working, covering his eyes like the light was too bright.

“I’ll make you something to eat.”

“Not hungry,” Jamie muttered. Which could not possibly be true. Jamie was always hungry. Roy had started carrying around extra protein bars and bags of mixed nuts so he could pass snacks to Jamie throughout the day. He had to completely take over Jamie’s meals once he realized that Jamie gorged himself after every workout. He needed a lot of calories every day to maintain his physique, but he couldn’t just graze through his kitchen without a single thought to what he was eating or how much.

“You still need dinner. You’ll get sick if you don’t eat.”

Jamie grunted, acknowledging that Roy was right. He’d cook up something simple but filling and Jamie would probably feel better once he ate. It was a good plan, but still he lingered, studying Jamie’s prone body, sensing that something was off but not sure what it could be. Was he injured? Jamie took a few hard hits that afternoon, but nothing he couldn’t jump up from. He’d been moving just fine, on and off the pitch, no hitch in his step, no grimace from a tug of pain in his ribs or his back. Roy fucking hated it when he knew something was wrong but he didn’t know what so there wasn’t anything he could fucking do about it. He would do anything Jamie needed if Jamie would just fucking tell him.

“You alright?” Roy tried.

Jamie grunted again.

Roy didn’t want to leave him but Jamie would get sick, so he shrugged his coat off and moved into the kitchen. If it wasn’t a physical problem was it something emotional? Jamie had a lot of emotions. But how could he be feeling anything but fucking happy? They won! Lasso’s version of Total Football was working perfectly now that Jamie was conducting the whole team around him. Was he sulking because he had three assists and no goals? Was he still that little prick prima donna on the inside? Roy didn’t think so. He wasn’t sulky at all while he was celebrating those goals–and that victory–with the team. Besides, Jamie could have scored if he really wanted to. Nobody would begrudge him a goal or two if he took the open shot.

Roy didn’t even know why he cared so much. Why was it even bugging him? His job wasn’t to be Jamie’s fucking emotional support. If he didn’t watch himself, they’d start barking at each other and giving each other fucking dog nicknames and Roy was not going to allow himself to turn into Ted Lasso. Even if sometimes their stupid barking sounded a little fun, and even if every once in a while it seemed like they actually solved some problems in there. But that wasn’t the point. The point was that Roy had one job to do when it came to Jamie Tartt and he was doing it and doing it well and they were fucking winning. End of.

If Jamie needed something, then Jamie knew how to ask. Roy was pretty sure he’d demonstrated more than once that he was willing to accommodate Jamie’s needs, if he knew what the fuck they were. He wasn’t a fucking mindreader, was he?

He fully expected Jamie to wander into the kitchen while he was cooking and maybe get a little underfoot, but Jamie didn’t even get up from the couch. Maybe he was just tired? He didn’t stir until Roy shouted, “Oi! Tartt! Dinner!” Tired or not, Roy wasn’t going to fucking serve him like he was the fucking queen. He could bring the plate back to the sofa if he wanted to, but he was going to come in and fetch it himself.

“Thanks.” Jamie took his plate over to the table, like he did every time he ate over at Roy’s. Roy wasn’t even sure why he did that. He could eat in front of the telly if he wanted, or he could take it outside to the garden, or he could eat it upstairs. Wherever he was comfortable. But he always sat at the table, and usually he took the time to set it, though tonight he just dropped down to his seat and stared blankly at his salmon, broccoli, and rice.

“Jamie. Eat it before it gets all cold.”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

Jamie ate every morsel on his plate and finished the bottle of water Roy gave him without any further prompting. He also didn’t say another word. Which was weird. It should have been nice to enjoy a quiet dinner for once, but Jamie should have a lot to say. He always had plenty to say after they lost matches. When Zava was still around, Roy couldn’t make him shut up, even when he made him do up-downs until he puked.

“Alright, what’s wrong, pretty boy?” As soon as the words left Roy’s mouth he wished he could pull them back. He wasn’t sure what he meant by calling Jamie pretty boy because it definitely didn’t sound like he meant it as an insult. Which made sense, because he wasn’t trying to insult Jamie at all. He was still damned proud of what Jamie had accomplished that night.

Jamie looked up sharply, and he looked alert for the first time since the match ended. There was a splash of color across his cheeks, and his shoulders came up, as though he was expecting a fight, but when Roy folded his arms across his chest and gazed back at him, the tension left his shoulders. His cheeks were still pink, though.

“Nothing…it’s nothing.”

“There’s something.”

“This just happens sometimes. After a match, you know. It’s like, I was flying out there and then the whistle blew and I fucking landed on my face, you get me?”

Roy nodded. “Yeah, I get that. You’re crashing from the adrenalin.” When Roy felt like that after a match, he would go on the pull and it usually helped. For a little while.

“Guess so. Dunno.” Jamie sighed and dropped his fork. “Guess I’ll head home.”

“You don’t have to go.”

“Not going to be good company tonight, am I?”

“It’s alright.” Roy paused for a moment before adding, “pretty boy.”

That made the color in Jamie’s cheeks deepen and now that he wasn’t looking for the insult, the corner of his mouth twitched upward. “You ever feel like this then?”

“Yeah. It’s pretty normal. Does it happen to you a lot?”

“Not a lot. I mean, not every match. It’s worse after a win, which is stupid because shouldn’t I be fucking happy after a win?”

“Yeah but unfortunately you can’t always control how you feel.”

“Guess not. What did you do when you felt like this?”

“Get laid.”

“Did it help?”

Roy shrugged. “It didn’t hurt.”

“I feel like I don’t even have the energy for that.”

“It wasn’t a suggestion, I was just answering your question. Did you get enough food?”

Jamie nodded. “It was good. Thanks.”

“You earned it. You looked really good out there.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You know you had a good match.”

“Nice to hear it, innit?”

“Well, you played fucking great. You did a good job on both offense and defense and when you watch Sky Sports tomorrow they’re all going to be talking about Jamie Tartt.” Roy wasn’t gassing him up. That was just the plain truth, but Jamie looked like a tire that had just been pumped full of air. “All three assists were beautiful, perfectly executed. You keep that up and we’ll be at the top of the table in no time.”

Jamie’s smile was nearly at its normal, full brilliance. “Thanks, coach.”

“Just telling you what I saw. You want to watch a movie with me before you go to bed?”

“Yeah, yeah I do.”

“Alright, go pick something out, I’ll be right in.”

“I can clean up.”

“I got it. Go on.”

At least Jamie wasn’t dragging his feet as he left the room. Which counted as a win, as far as Roy was concerned. And it was simple, too. All he had to do was tell Jamie shit he already knew–that he was pretty and good at football. Didn’t even cost him anything. Of course, Jamie hadn’t been flawless, but they would cover all that later, after Jamie had a chance to rest and recover.

“This alright?” Jamie asked when Roy joined him.

“It’s fine,” Roy answered without even looking at the screen.

He didn’t really care what Jamie put on. Jamie was taking up most of the space with his arms and legs sprawled out, and he looked like he might pass out within the next fifteen minutes. He smiled as Roy settled next to him, and it was actually less than fifteen minutes before Jamie dropped his head to Roy’s shoulder. A liberty Roy had started to allow on the bus home from away matches. He didn’t really mind if Jamie was comfortable like that.

#

Jamie was a noisy sleeper. Roy would say he talked in his sleep, but there was never anything coherent enough to be words. Usually, it wasn’t too bad. Roy couldn’t hear him when he was asleep in the room across the hall. Unless he was having a bad dream. Then the incoherent mumblings turned into shouts. The first time it happened, Roy had his cricket bat in hand and was ready to murder whoever just broke into his house and woke him up. It took a few moments for the fog to clear from his head and he realized it wasn’t an intruder with a deathwish. It was just Jamie.

Jamie stayed over more and more often. It just made sense, really. It saved Roy a thirty minute drive in the morning, which meant he could sleep until half three, and they could do Jamie’s warm-up right there in his yoga studio. It was more convenient at the end of the day, too, because Roy had started preparing all of Jamie’s meals, and if Jamie didn’t have to drive home, Roy could get more elaborate with the dinner prep. All in all, it worked out great–except for Jamie’s nightmares. Which came as a real surprise, because Jamie had never once mentioned them. And he didn’t have them when he slept on the bus or on Roy’s couch.

It wasn’t every night. Sometimes he would go a week without shouting Roy awake. When Roy asked about it, Jamie just shrugged and claimed he didn’t remember what the dreams were about. In fact, he didn’t remember dreaming at all. Roy didn’t believe him, but he didn’t have any reason to call him a liar, either.

The nightmares, or whatever they were, didn’t slow Jamie down in training or in matches. Richmond was on a winning streak, and Jamie Tartt was attracting more and more attention as it became clear that no defense had an answer. Nobody was fast enough to keep up with him, and if they double-teamed him, they were just leaving somebody open and Jamie would find his man. So there really wasn’t anything wrong, but Jamie sure as fuck sounded like there was something very wrong.

The night Jamie’s shouts coalesced into words, Roy knew he couldn’t ignore it any longer. He heard “No!” and “Stop!” and then a high-pitched whine, and that was all it took to send Roy flying out of bed and across the hallway. He was glad that Phoebe wasn’t sleeping over because if she woke up to noise like that, it would definitely freak her out. Roy was feeling a little freaked out. Jamie shouted again as Roy opened the bedroom door, and the undeniable fear in his voice sent a chill down Roy’s spine. He hurried to the side of the bed, and gripped Jamie’s shoulder.

“Jamie. Wake up.”

“No, no wait…please…”

Roy shook harder. “Jamie. Come on, you’re dreaming. Wake up.”

“Please, please…no…don’t…”

“Tartt!”

Jamie’s eyes flew open and he half sat up, looking around wildly, his pulse jumping in his throat. “What, what’s happening? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. You were dreaming. It sounded like you were having a nightmare.”

“I…I don’t remember.”

“It might help if you talk about it.”

“No, no, I’m alright. Did I wake you up? I’m sorry. I’m…you should go back to bed.”

“Jamie, it’s alright. You can tell me.”

Jamie shook his head. “No, it’s…there’s…it’s nothing. There’s nothing to tell. Sorry for disturbing you.”

Roy wanted to take him by both shoulders and shake him until he stopped being so fucking stubborn. He would do it, if he thought it would work. “Fine, Jamie. I can’t make you talk. But if you change your mind, you know where to find me.” He would be across the hall, most certainly not sleeping.

Roy wasn’t stupid. He had a pretty good idea of what–or rather who–haunted Jamie’s dreams. So he understood why Jamie didn’t want to talk about the grim details. There were so many bleak things Jamie casually shared about his childhood that Roy didn’t even want to imagine the stories he kept to himself. He knew Jamie’s dad wasn’t always around. He wasn’t a consistent presence in Jamie’s life until he was around twelve and started to attract the attention of scouts. But he wasn’t altogether gone, either. He showed up from time to time, usually after a stint in jail, looking to take whatever he could get from a woman who worked two, or even three, jobs to take care of the son he abandoned.

Just like the piece of shit Ruth married. Joshua O’Sullivan was about as far away from James Tartt Sr as anybody could be–came from money, well-educated, never spent a night in jail, but no matter how much the details differed, it was still the same fucking story. Narcissistic fuckheads could come from anywhere, and they didn’t give a shit who they hurt because nobody mattered but them. Not even their own children. When Ruth finally broke free of the cycle of abuse and love-bombing, Roy had been there to support her and help with Phoebe, but to hear Jamie tell it, he and his mum had nobody but each other. Jamie never complained, though. He thought he was sharing happy memories when he told Roy about making his mum dinner every night so she had something to eat before she went on to her early-morning job at the bakery.

A soft knock on the door was followed by a triangle of light as Jamie pushed it open. “Roy?”

“I’m awake.”

Jamie shuffled into the room. “Can I–”

Roy lifted the blanket. “Come on.”

Jamie didn’t need a second invitation. He practically dove into the bed, pulling the blanket up over his shoulders, burrowing as close to Roy as he could get. Wrapping his arms around Jamie and holding him close was now a regular part of Roy’s life. A natural consequence of having Jamie around all the fucking time. He liked hugs, he especially seemed to like it when Roy hugged him, and if Jamie was going to be around all the fucking time, he might as well be a smiling, happy Jamie. Holding Jamie in bed was a new development, though.

Holding Jamie in bed while he cried left Roy feeling completely out of his depth. He rubbed Jamie’s back between his shoulders. Was that soothing? Was there anything he could do to make Jamie stop crying? Or did he just have to wait until the tears ran their course? Was Jamie upset about something specific? Was it just a response to his nightmare? Was he stressed? Was he injured? It had to be the nightmare, right? Because he would know if Jamie were injured, and he hadn’t seemed stressed out at all before they turned in. He’d been cheerful during their evening workout, and he was smiling throughout dinner which he ate with his normal appetite.

Whether he liked it or not, he was now the person primarily in charge of the proper care and feeding of Jamie Tartt, and the fact that this little breakdown was happening at all irked the hell out of Roy. Clearly, Jamie had some need that wasn’t being met. That much was obvious. What wasn’t so obvious was why Roy believed it was his responsibility to see to all of Jamie Tartt’s needs. Nobody else got this level of attention from coaches, including himself! But nobody else was Jamie Tartt, either, and as good as he was now, as good as he had become since their training started, he could still get better. Still. His potential was unlimited.

Gradually, Jamie quieted, and the tears stopped, but Jamie didn’t pull away. He kept his face pressed to Roy’s chest, and even though Jamie had gained about thirty pounds in muscle mass and had long arms and long legs, he felt very small, curled into Roy like that.

“What’s wrong, sweet boy?” Roy murmured, resting his chin against Jamie’s damp hair. His shirt was damp, too, like he woke up in a cold sweat.

“I don’t know,” Jamie whispered.

A cop out because Jamie didn’t want to tell him what was wrong? Or did he really not know? Possible. Roy had found himself crying in the middle of the night a few times in his life and he didn’t always know what was wrong, just that he had to swallow it all down, even when he was alone. Swallow it until his throat hurt and the tears turned into growls.

“What do you know then?”

Jamie shook his head.

“Tell me something you know,” Roy pressed. If there was something Jamie needed to share, it would help to get him talking.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know anything? There’s not one thing you know?”

“Um, Richmond’s won six in a row now.”

“Damn right we have. We’re on a fucking tear right now. It’s fucking awesome. How does it feel?”

“Good.”

“Yeah, it should feel good, Jamie. You work hard and you’re doing a great fucking job. What else do you know?”

“My mum…she’s good. Talked to her tonight.”

“That piece of shit hasn’t been around, has he?”

“No, no, he don’t come around there anymore. Don’t know where he is, actually. Haven’t heard from him since…since Wembley.”

“Good. I hope he’s dead. Is that what you were dreaming about?”

“No. Maybe. I don’t know, it’s a chasing dream.”

“You’re being chased?”

“Yeah. I just run and I run and I run, you know, but there’s nowhere to go. And I know it doesn’t matter, how much I run. Whatever’s behind me is going to catch me.”

Roy knew that feeling. “You ever have that dream before?”

“Oh yeah, lots of times. Since I was a lad.”

Roy squeezed him closer. “You’re not being chased anymore, Jamie. Alright?”

Jamie snuffled and nodded. Heat was radiating off of him now and Roy knew it wouldn’t be too long until he was damp with sweat. Instead of pushing Jamie away, Roy kicked the blanket off his legs. They still had two hours before Roy’s alarm would go off to start their day, and Roy figured if he just stayed right like that, with Jamie in his arms, the younger man would probably fall asleep again and get a bit of the rest he needed.

Not only did Jamie fall asleep, like Roy hoped he would, he slept peacefully. No garbled moans or muttered exclamations, no shouts, no sounds whatsoever. He slept as quietly as when he fell asleep on the bus. Or on Roy’s couch. It wasn’t hard to work out the common element between the bus, the couch, and the bed in that moment–it was Roy’s own shoulder. Jamie slept best when he didn’t sleep alone.

And that put Roy in a bit of a situation, didn’t it? How much longer could he ignore his attraction to Jamie when Jamie’s body was pressed up against his? Once was bad enough, but it wasn’t going to be just once and Roy damn well knew it. How long was he going to be able to pretend that everything he did for Jamie was for the good of Richmond? Roy could keep his face straight when he told a lie, but he was even better at lies of omission, and he was great when it came to lying to himself. And he could keep telling himself this lie, that everything he felt for Jamie was a perfectly normal thing to feel for a player, a friend even, but he couldn’t do it forever. He did have his limits.

Christ, why did Jamie have to feel so good? And smell so good? And look so good? Why did he have to have a face that was so nice to look at? Why did Roy feel so satisfied every time he figured out another piece of the Jamie Tartt puzzle? Roy suspected he knew the answer, but he didn’t want that to be the answer, so he shoved the questions out of his head and tried not to think about it too much.

Roy fell asleep clinging to Jamie and his denial, and when he woke up again, Jamie’s face was too close to his.

“Good morning, coach.”

“Time issit?”

“About three thirty.” Right on cue, Roy’s alarm went off.

“Fuck.” Roy slapped around until he found the phone and hit snooze. “Gimme fifteen more minutes.”

“Alright.” Jamie moved to get out of bed, but Roy tightened his hold and pulled him back.

“Hold still. ‘M sleeping.”

“Okay.”

“Wake me up in fifteen.”

“I will, coach.”

Roy fell back to sleep and dreamed about Jamie Tartt.

#

“Tartt! Get your ass in gear!”

“Keep your wig on!” Jamie shouted from the downstairs toilet.

“You’re going to be late!” Roy shouted back. Finally get his cap, and he was going to stroll in late like a little prick prima donna. “Double-time!” A moment later the toilet door opened and Jamie walked into the kitchen. “What the fuck is all over your head?”

“It’s my conditioner, innit?”

“Conditioner? What are you doing? You need to be out the door in ten minutes.”

“And I’m rinsing it in five. What are you doing?”

“I’m getting your pill organizer put together.”

Jamie grimaced. “Really?”

“Yes, really. Just because you get a week off from Richmond doesn’t mean that you’re off of training.”

“You’re going to miss me when I choke to death on one of those giant pills.”

“Every morning you promise you’re going to choke, and every morning you manage to survive. Do you have your protein bars?”

“Yes. All packed up in the duffel.”

“And your mixed nuts?”

“Yes.”

“And your shakes?”

“Roy, mate, they’re going to have food there, I’m pretty sure.”

“How do you know? You’ve never been before.” Roy looked up. “Go get your dishes.”

“My dishes?”

“Yeah, I’m not your fucking maid. I know you’ve got dishes all over the house. Wait. Take your pills first.”

“I don’t have time for both, coach. Either I do the dishes or I take my thousand pills.”

“I didn’t tell you to do the dishes, I just told you to go collect them.”

“I gotta rinse my hair.”

“Take your vitamins, Tartt.” Roy folded his arms and watched as he picked through them one at a time. “You know, it wouldn’t take you a fucking hour every morning if you just took them all at once.”

“Are you trying to fucking kill me? I’d choke if I tried to take all of this!”

“You take bigger bites of food all the time.”

Despite the fact that it was completely irrational, Jamie continued to take his vitamins and supplements one at a time. He was definitely going to be late. Roy tried to hang onto that irritation so he didn’t start to think about how much he was going to miss Jamie this week. He was so fucking proud, and not the least bit surprised when Jamie got his call. Of course, Roy had known it was coming.

“Better rinse your hair, pretty boy. The car’s going to be here in five minutes.”

Jamie tilted his head back to swallow the last of the pills, and then instead of leaving the kitchen, he walked over to the sink. “Here, help me out.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Help me rinse this out!”

“In my kitchen sink? Why are you so fucking annoying?” Roy grumbled, but he was already crossing to Jamie’s side. “Bend over then.”

“Yes, sir,” Jamie said with a smirk.

Roy turned on the water and switched the faucet over to the sprayer, waiting for it to warm up before pointing it at Jamie’s hair. He combed his fingers through the strands over and over until the thick texture of the conditioner was gone. Jamie remained still, patiently waiting for Roy to finish the job, and didn’t move when Roy turned off the water. Not until after Roy wrapped a towel around his shoulders and draped another one over his head.

“You got two minutes to dry it.”

“That’s okay, it can dry on the drive,” Jamie said from under the towel. “The important thing is how it looks during the match.”

“That’s not the important thing, Jamie.”

“It’s the most important thing.” Jamie tossed the towel aside and combed his hair back from his face. “You’ll tell me if I look fit, right?”

“You look like a muppet,” Roy said gruffly. He reached for the pill organizer and pushed it in Jamie’s hands. “Put this in your bag.”

“Yes, coach.”

“Be good.”

“I’ll make you proud, coach.”

“Alright, give me a fucking hug and get out there.”

Jamie’s arms were tight and strong around him, and Roy closed his eyes, enjoying his familiar heat, the shape and feel of his muscles beneath the tight material of his shirt. It was just a week, but Roy couldn’t remember the last time they spent more than a day apart. Roy didn’t want to break the contact, even though he knew the seconds were ticking down and the car was probably already waiting outside.

“Cheer up, Kent.” Jamie leaned back and grinned. “I’ll be back before you even miss me.”

“Go. Get out of here.”

Jamie flashed him another smile, shouldered his bags, and then he was gone.

Right away, Roy noticed the house was too quiet. The second thing he noticed was that Jamie left that fucking mug full of coffee–with cream and sugar–in the downstairs toilet. Roy rolled his eyes and left it there for Jamie to deal with when he came back, even though it would be fucking disgusting by then.

Roy didn’t realize that I’ll be back before you even miss me was a promise until he heard Jamie’s voice at the very last place he ever expected it. His heart slammed into his ribs with shock as Phoebe led Jamie by the hand into the Uncle’s Day party, and all coherent thoughts shattered and scattered as Jamie smiled at him and slid into the seat next to him.

“Hello, Uncle Roy.”

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Well, I had to invite your best friend,” Phoebe said.

“Seriously, Tartt. What the fuck?”

“Couldn’t miss out on Uncle’s Day, could I?”

“Give him your present, Jamie.”

Jamie shyly produced a rectangle wrapped in black paper, adorned with a black ribbon and bow, and shoved it across the table like it might bite him. “It’s…it’s nothing. It’s silly. Here.”

Roy had no idea what to expect. He didn’t even know to expect Jamie, much less a present from Jamie. How did he get permission to leave for the afternoon? Did he have the same driver who picked him up drive him all the way back to Richmond? What the fuck was he even doing? And now not only did Roy have to deal with this shock, he had to deal with saying goodbye again, and it fucking sucked because Roy wanted to go with him.

Roy recognized the kit immediately. He didn’t need Jamie to tell him was from the 2014 World Cup.

“I had ‘em change the E to a U,” Jamie added, leaning over to point at the new lettering.

Roy blinked, his attention going back to Jamie’s face. He looked nervous, hopeful, like he thought there was a real chance Roy wouldn’t like it. He felt a weird quiver in his throat, and a strange radiance in his chest. Like a fever or something. He was flushed on the back of his neck and behind his ears. He needed a stiff drink or two. He wished they were alone, though he didn’t really know what he would have done if it were just the two of them. After a long beat, he realized Jamie was still staring at him, still waiting for his response.

“I love it,” Roy managed. He loved it and he loved Jamie, who might very well be the best friend Roy had ever had in his life. Jamie smiled, and the feeling in Roy’s chest intensified. He had been experiencing a feeling in response to Jamie’s smiles for a few months now, and it shouldn’t have been a surprise to him that he cared about Jamie. At this point, he basically lived at Roy’s house and he slept in Roy’s bed most nights, but the intensity of this feeling was still disorienting.

So Roy pushed it down deep, where he shoved every feeling that was too big for him to immediately understand. Maybe he would investigate it later, but they were too close to the end of the season–and the top of the table–to get distracted now.

#

It wasn’t a surprise, being with Keeley. Well, no. It was a huge fucking surprise that just about blew the top of his head off, one he certainly did not predict or even hope for, but still. It wasn’t a surprise. It seemed inevitable and like the biggest fucking fluke on the fucking planet. Roy still wasn’t sure how it happened and he felt like he’d been flung back through time to that point one year ago when he sat on that bed and watched Keeley and knew he was going to make her cry. Right then, later that night, in a year, in ten, the timeline was insignificant. He only knew it would happen, so why draw it out? A quick, direct break would heal quicker, and be kinder, and he had to do it before he lost his courage and ended up staying long enough to really fucking maim her.

That cunt hindsight was always 20/20. Except for now. Now Roy didn’t know if he was right or wrong to break up with her, and he knew his reasons had been solid, but they seemed so weak while he watched Keeley get dressed. His head had been a fucking mess, done in by the stress of Nate fucking off and leaving a massive hole right in the middle of Richmond. All Roy could think about was the way he was about to fucking fail at his job, and the way he was failing in his relationship, and the millions of ways he was undoubtedly failing Phoebe, and he wanted to spare Keeley from the darkness he could feel closing in around him.

So it wasn’t a surprise he ended up in that bed with Keeley because a part of him never wanted to leave. Maybe even most of him. He definitely regretted it. He regretted the words even as he was speaking them. She had been blindsided by his announcement, just like the world was blindsided when he left Chelsea, and jumped right into the negotiation phase.

And negotiations were resuming.

“I’m not really ready to be in a relationship again,” Keeley said. “I’ve got to focus on KJPR.”

“Right.” No disagreement from Roy on that front. She should be focusing on her business, especially now that she had Rebecca’s backing. He had shit he needed to focus on, too.

“And I’ve been doing a lot of thinking this week.” She sighed. “It’s been the worst week of my life. And I realized there are patterns in my life, and maybe if I want things to change, I need to do different things.”

“Makes sense.” Roy was trying to be different, do things different, not be so stuck in his ways. “So what do you want to do?”

“Maybe we can start over again, like a completely clean slate.” She sat on the edge of the bed, her legs folded beneath her, and looked at him intently. “If that’s what you want?”

“I thought you aren’t ready for a relationship.”

“I’m not. I mean, maybe we can start talking again, but we take things slow. Maybe start with a few dates and go from there.” She reached for his hand. “I’ve missed you.”

It was what Roy had envisioned when he first asked her out to dinner. He hadn’t been angling to make her his girlfriend overnight, but that was exactly what happened. They went back to her place, he made her dinner, they found those weird fucking pictures on that asshole’s SD card, they fucked, and he basically never left again. Until he drove her crazy and fled her house, feeling starkly humiliated and ashamed and furious at himself for being so stupid. Now he couldn’t do that again even if he wanted to. Not with eighteen hours of every day dedicated to work and Jamie.

“I’ve missed you, too.” He missed the soft warmth of her touch, the smell of her body wash and perfume, the heat of her body surrounding him. He missed talking to her, missed her beautiful smile, missed the light in her eyes. He missed being around her. There was no doubt he still wanted her, still felt drawn to her, still admired her. “Let’s take it slow.”

She smiled. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Roy pulled her close and kissed her. “When would you like to go on our first date?”

Keeley frowned thoughtfully. “I’ve got a lot of work to do this week, and hopefully I’ll have some meetings next week. What about Sunday brunch?”

“Perfect.” Sundays were Jamie’s day off anyway, and he would be back on Saturday night, so Roy was already planning to have a proper fry up for breakfast. “My place?”

“Perfect.”

The house was still too quiet when Roy made it back home that night. He actually would have liked to stay over at Keeley’s, but that was the opposite of taking things slow, and he didn’t want to distract her from work. She was excited about winning the business of some old clients as well as targeting new start-ups that were looking for a leg-up. If the best thing he could do to support her was get out of her hair, then he was happy to do it.

When he plugged his phone into the charger he realized he missed a text from Jamie. Did you watch the match? I scored a goal!

Of course I fucking did. You looked great.

The response was almost immediate. Miss me?

No. Enjoying the peace and quiet.

Liar. don’t worry old man I’ll be home soon

Chapter Text

Jamie should have known better. He’d been fooling himself for the past month, or maybe even the whole fucking season. It was just that Roy Kent was opening up more and more every day, revealing parts of himself that Jamie never expected. He just handed it all over, whatever Jamie needed, any time he asked for it. He should have known it couldn’t last. All he could think about on the ride back to Richmond was that he was going home. Not to his own empty house, but to the place where he lived with Roy Kent, and in his excitement he started imagining if Roy really let him move in. Maybe Roy realized he missed having Jamie around and that week apart gave Roy a new perspective.

But that wasn’t what happened.

It started out alright. Roy hugged him at the door, which was fucking mint, and Jamie held onto him as tight as he could because he missed Roy so fucking much. He missed the way Roy hugged him. He missed the feel of him and the smell of him and he even missed the way he ached for more. He was always hurting for Roy Kent, but the feeling was so much sharper when he was actually in Roy’s arms, so much more vibrant, it felt like pressing his finger into a fresh bruise, but in a good way.

“Go put your shit away,” Roy said, nudging him towards the stairs, and that seemed like a good sign, too. All the clothes he moved to Roy’s house was in the bedroom he never slept in anymore, and he quickly unpacked his duffel, dumping most of it into the hamper and planning to do the wash tomorrow. Everything he needed was already there, there wouldn't be any reason to go to his own house this week. 

He practically flew back down the stairs and found Roy standing in the kitchen, looking at his phone with a slight frown. When he looked up and saw Jamie, that frown deepened, and Jamie unconsciously braced himself.

“Keeley’s coming over tomorrow for breakfast.”

Jamie blinked, taken by complete surprise by the announcement. Roy and Keeley exchanged a few words at Nelson Road, but as far as Jamie knew, they never really talked. However that break up went, it seemed like it didn’t include any sort of promise to still be friends.

“Oh. Okay.”

“Me and Keeley are…we’re talking again.”

“Talking?”

“It’s like...well, it is a date.”

“Oh. Oh. Right. Yeah, I get you.” Jamie turned around, more confused than ever. If Roy didn’t want him around, why wouldn’t he tell him that before Jamie dumped out his whole bag? Why even let him come back at all? Couldn’t he have sent a text to tell Jamie to have the car take him back to his own place? Seemed like that would have been the kinder option.

“Jamie? Where are you going?”

“To get my things.”

“What are you talking about?”

Roy sounded confused, which only deepened Jamie’s confusion. “Didn’t you just tell me to go?”

“No. I didn’t…I was just telling you she’s going to be here tomorrow for breakfast.”

“Right. Don’t want to crash your date, Coach.”

But it wasn’t just breakfast, was it? Roy devoted so much of his time to training and coaching and helping Jamie, time he only had available because he wasn’t with Keeley. How would she feel about him waking up at three in the morning to go for a run? He definitely wouldn’t be sleeping in Roy’s bed anymore, which really sucked. It was torture but also it was the best sleep he ever had in his life. He told Roy he didn’t remember his dreams but now he really didn’t remember dreaming at all. It was just deep, restful sleep.

“Guess we gotta work out a new training schedule too?” Jamie said with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. This was good news for Roy. He was going to be a good friend. Supportive and happy for Roy’s happiness. “I mean, if we’re still training?”

“What? Of course we’re still training, and we don’t need a new fucking schedule, the fucking schedule we have is perfect. Nothing’s changing.”

“But–”

Roy tossed his phone to the counter. “Look, we’re talking, we’re taking it slow. I’m not fucking kicking you out, I’m not going to stop training you. You’re my–”

“Job?”

“No. Fucking hell, Jamie. You’re not my fucking job, you’re my giant pain in the ass. Wait. No.” Roy shook his head. “That’s not what I was going to say. You are a giant pain in my ass, but you’re also my best friend. Alright?”

“Really?”

“Yes you fucking muppet.”

Jamie never thought Roy would fall in love with him. He didn’t even allow himself to go that far in his fantasies. Roy hugged him, massaged him, even slept with him with an air of complete indifference. Knowing Roy wasn’t attracted to him helped keep some of his own natural responses subdued, because he definitely didn’t want Roy to be uncomfortable with him. So, knowing Roy and Keeley were going to be together would hurt in the same old way he was used to, but at least he wouldn’t have to suffer through missing Roy. Much. And that was a good deal. A very good deal. Roy Kent’s best friend? That was fucking amazing.

“So…what happened?”

“I went over to Keeley’s to apologize for being a dickhead, you know. Wrote her a letter to put under the door.”

Jamie frowned. “How was she ever going to read it? Oh, did you type it?”

“No, I wrote it. Anyway, she was there because she’s been going through some shit this week, and, you know, one thing led to another.”

Well, Jamie couldn’t really fault him for that. Same thing happened to him, didn’t it? “So she took you back?”

“She wants to try again. Take it slow this time.”

Jamie had no fucking clue what that even meant. How could they take it slow when the first thing they did was fuck? But that wasn’t any of his business. And he really did want Roy to be happy. Roy had done so much for him, the very least he could do was be a good wingman. A good friend. A best friend.

“Is that what you want, too?”

“Yeah. It’s what I wanted from the very first. Wanted to try getting to know somebody before I started sleeping with them.”

Jamie frowned. “Isn’t that how it normally goes?”

“No.” He said it so casually, like he was talking to Jamie about something very common that everybody experienced. “I’d fuck somebody, and then either never see them again or hook up one or two more times and then never see them again. Until they ended up on some gossip rag talking about my dick or I had to identify them in a police lineup.”

“Are you saying Keeley was your first serious girlfriend?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

Jamie had never, ever, ever considered asking Roy questions about his relationship with Keeley. Partially because he didn’t want to know, but mostly because Roy obviously would not want to talk about it, and Jamie wanted to respect his boundaries. And Roy had a lot of boundaries when it came to his personal feelings and thoughts, even if he shed many of his physical boundaries over the last several months. But he had a lot of questions now that Roy seemed slightly more willing to talk about his private life.

“So you took it slow from the start with her?”

“No. She was mad at me because I kissed her and didn’t try to do anything more. Then after we worked out that little misunderstanding, we had our first date and I ended up sleeping over.” Roy turned back to the kitchen. “You hungry? Did you eat tonight?”

Jamie was not hungry. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling, but there was so much going on inside his torso that he didn’t have room for food. “I ate a few hours ago.”

“I’ll make you a sandwich.”

“Cheers.” He could probably eat a sandwich. He would definitely try. “So Keeley is like, the only person you’ve ever been…in love with?”

Roy looked up without lifting his head, studying Jamie from beneath his lashes for a beat that seemed to last a thousand years. “Yeah.”

“Then why break up with her?”

The only sign that Roy heard the question was the way his lips thinned into a hard line. His eyebrows hadn’t melded together, so he probably wasn’t too angry, but Jamie was ready to apologize for going a step too far.

“Seemed like the right thing to do,” Roy finally said.

Which clarified nothing. Why did it seem like the right thing to do if he was still in love with her? Why did he think things would be different this time around? Jamie understood better than anybody the desire to be welcomed back into Keeley’s heart, into her life, and also into her bed. He missed her so much when she dumped him, missed her even more when he was sent back to Manchester, and finally felt like his heart had been ripped right out of his chest when he found out about her and Roy because until that moment, he thought he still had the chance he was praying for. A part of him still loved her and probably always would, but now when he thought about Keeley he thought about being mates.

Too bad that was because he was so fucking gone on Roy Kent.

Which was why he could understand things from Keeley’s perspective, too. Why wouldn’t she jump at the chance to make things right with Roy? Why wouldn’t she want to fuck him if he came over full of apologies? Of course she still missed him! Getting over Roy Kent was going to be the single most challenging thing Jamie ever did–if he ever succeeded. He didn’t even know how to start that process. Probably the first step would be to go home, sleep in his own house, and make his own dinner. Jamie wasn’t willing to do that. What would be the point? There was nobody in the world like Roy Kent, and Jamie didn’t want to get over him.

“Here.” Roy plated the sandwich, cut it into two triangles, and slid it across the counter to Jamie. “Did you have fun?”

“Fun? Oh, yeah, course I fucking did. It was fucking amazing, wasn’t it? Off the fucking charts. Was Sam watching?”

“He was. Smiled for the first fucking time in a week.”

Jamie felt his mood brighten. “Mint, yeah. Fucking bullshit that he wasn’t called up, right? Like, what the fuck man?”

“Sometimes this shit comes down to politics instead of sportsmanship.”

“Politics? You mean, because Sam speaks his mind and stands up for people?”

“Could be.”

“Well that’s fucking stupid. But I got him to smile, yeah? So I suppose that’s something.”

“You know, that’s why–never mind.”

“That’s why what?” Jamie asked around a mouthful of turkey and cheese sandwich.

“Nothing. Your hair didn’t look too stupid, if you were worried.”

“Wasn’t worried because my hair looked fucking great. Fucking perfect, in fact. Good thing I did that extra condition, yeah?”

Roy rolled his eyes. “Yes, you looked very pretty.”

Jamie knew Roy was teasing him when he said shit like that. He knew Roy didn’t mean anything by it–well, he definitely didn’t mean it as a compliment. But hearing it still made his cheeks feel flushed. He couldn’t believe Roy Kent made him fucking blush. It was fucking embarrassing. Or it would be if Roy ever noticed.

The sandwich was fucking delicious, the way everything was when Roy fixed it, and Jamie didn’t have a problem finishing it. He couldn’t stifle his yawn when he was done, though, and Roy might not notice Jamie’s physical reactions to him, he certainly noticed everything else.

“Go get ready for bed, I’ll tidy up.”

The mention of bed made Jamie’s heart do a little flip in his chest. It absolutely blew Jamie away that Roy allowed him to sleep in his bed once, much less nearly every night. It was fucking mental. And it wasn’t just sharing a bunk, which was crazy enough, but Roy had no qualms about cuddling. Folded Jamie right up in his arms and immediately fell asleep, like he didn’t have a single care in this world. It was fantastic. But also so, so weird. Jamie had never shared a bed with somebody he wasn’t fucking. It never even occurred to him that such a thing could be done. Jamie didn’t spend too much time thinking about it–why would he? But now he wondered how Roy and Keeley actually slept together, because Roy would reach for Jamie in his sleep, and Keeley didn’t like to be spooned or held or cuddled. She said it made her too hot and she didn’t like the feeling of being touched while she was asleep.

Jamie mulled that over while he showered. Maybe Keeley didn’t mind when it was Roy spooning her? Or maybe it was a small sacrifice for Roy to make when compared with everything else? Everything else was a lot, after all. It would remain a mystery because Jamie wasn’t going to ask and he knew this arrangement would not continue. Even if there was never even a hint of anything sexual happening, Keeley wouldn’t believe that. Who would? It was preposterous that Jamie slept in Roy Kent’s bed and never even tried to give him a handy. Keeley especially wouldn’t believe that. But it was true. Jamie didn’t want to fuck things up with Roy, not when everything else was going so well.

But what Keeley did or did not believe wasn’t a factor that night.

“I’ll let you sleep in tomorrow, but you’re back to your regular schedule on Monday and I don’t want to hear anything about it,” Roy announced as he put his phone on the charger.

“Fair, yeah.”

“Did you sleep alright?”

“Guess so. Didn’t have to wake up til seven so it was like a holiday.”

Roy made a scoffing sound, like he couldn’t believe how lazy Jamie was allowed to be, and settled into his side of the bed. When the light went out, it was totally dark. Roy did not leave a light on in the closet or the bathroom, and he had no nightlights, nothing to light his way if he needed to get up for a middle of the night piss. Just another thing about Roy Kent that Jamie didn’t understand, because he couldn’t fucking see in the dark and did it not occur to him that a nightlight would make his life easier?

Fuck, Jamie was going to miss him. That mournful feeling only intensified when Roy scooped him up and muttered, “Goodnight, Tartt.”

#

Roy did let Jamie sleep in until almost seven, and when Jamie joined him downstairs he was in a really good mood. Chipper, even, humming to himself while he made breakfast, and looking really, really fit. Jamie reminded himself that he was happy for Roy to be so happy, and focused on setting the table. Setting three places wasn’t unusual, of course, but it felt different today since the third spot was for Keeley and not Phoebe. He tried to reassure himself that everything would be fine, that seeing Keeley again would be lovely and eating with her would not be weird in the slightest. He would definitely be on his best behavior.

Jamie jumped when the doorbell rang. At first he didn’t know what it was–nobody ever just walked up to ring Roy Kent’s doorbell-and then his heart dropped to his stomach as Roy said, “Get the door please. My hands are full.”

“No problem,” Jamie said, wiping his damp palms on the front of his hoodie. He smiled when he opened the door because it was impossible not to smile when Keeley was standing before him, looking absolutely beautiful. “Hey, Keeley. Come on in. You alright?”

“Hi, Jamie.” He could tell by the tone of her voice she did not expect to see him there. “I’m good. How are you?”

“I’m good, yeah. You got good timing. Roy’s just about done cooking up breakfast. Kent! Keeley’s here!”

Roy emerged from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel and then tossing it to Jamie without looking. Jamie caught it out of the air, draping it over his shoulder and quickly making his escape to the kitchen. Did Roy really not even tell her that Jamie would be there, too?

“Good morning. You look gorgeous.” Roy’s voice was as clear as if Jamie was still in the same room. That was what Roy sounded like when he was giving a sincere compliment.

“Oh, this old thing? I just threw it on today.”

“You make everything look good. Jamie only ever looked half-decent with you around.”

“Oi!” Jamie shouted as he filled the coffee pot with water. Roy wasn't allowed to make the coffee, he always made it so fucking dark it couldn't be saved no matter how much milk and sugar Jamie added. “You’re just jealous, old man.”

“Hope you’re hungry. We’re having a proper cook-up this morning to celebrate.”

“Oh, what are we celebrating?” Keeley's voice dipped a little, like she was flirting. God, Jamie wanted this breakfast to be over right now. 

“Jamie just got back from Wembley. He even scored a goal.”

“I was brilliant!” Jamie shouted, because he had been rather brilliant, and winning at Wembley had been more than a bit of alright. “Oi! Kent! Your sausage is burning.”

“Well, turn them over!”

“No way, you do it. The last time I tried to help, you yelled at me.”

“The last time you tried to help you turned off the burner and our chicken was raw in the middle. He nearly killed us. You want some coffee?”

It was true that Jamie turned off the burner, but it wasn't fair to say he nearly killed them. That shit was getting scorched (caramelized is what Roy called it, but scorched is what Jamie called it) and the resulting argument lasted for two full hours, which made Jamie vow he would never help Roy out again. He could burn down the whole kitchen for all Jamie cared. 

“Yeah, thank you.”

“Tartt, are you done making the coffee?”

“Yeah, but where’s my mug?”

“In the bathroom. Where you left it.”

Jamie gasped, horrified. “That was a week ago!”

“I told you I wasn’t going to clean up after you anymore. I’m not your fucking maid.”

“Yeah, but you just left it? There was still coffee in there, pretty sure.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s fucking disgusting. You better go clean it if you want to have some coffee this morning.”

“Can’t believe you just left in there,” Jamie grumbled, flashing a smile at Keeley so she would know they weren’t really arguing as he passed her. The black mug was exactly where he left it, just like Roy said it would be. And it was fucking disgusting. But he had to admit, it was his own fault. Roy had told him–more than once–that he wasn’t going to follow Jamie around and tidy up his dishes.

“He can’t just drink out of a clean mug like a normal person. He can only drink out of that mug. Anyway, cream and sugar for you?”

“Uh, yeah. Thanks. I didn’t know Jamie was going to be here.”

Jamie paused, staring into the nasty week old coffee in the special cup he always used because it was his now.

“Oh, sorry I didn’t mention it. I guess I forgot since he’s here for breakfast every morning.”

Fucking hell, Roy. He didn’t even give Jamie a second thought.

“Why is that?”

“Part of his training. Gotta make sure he eats properly. He’s so hungry by the time we’re done with his workout that he’ll just pig down on anything.” Jamie almost was offended at the implication of him being a pig, but felt slightly mollified when Roy added, “It’s not good for him.”

“Oh, okay. And you were training this morning?”

“No, he got in so late last night, I let him sleep in. We’ll start up again tomorrow.”

“Do you mean he slept here?”

That was not a conversation they needed to get into before breakfast. His stomach was grumbling, and really, he would rather not be the center of the conversation anyway.

“Ugh, this mug is fucking disgusting. Why would you do that?” Jamie asked as he returned to the kitchen.

“Why would you do that?”

“I forgot about it! I had a lot of things on my mind.”

“Well, if you’re going to be so picky about your special mug, take better care of it.” Roy handed Keeley her coffee. “So how did it go yesterday? Were you able to get the Ms. Jaye account back?”

“Yes! She said she liked everything I’ve done so far and she still wants to work with me, as long as Shandy’s not involved.”

Jamie shuddered at the mention of the name. “Disgusting.”

“I told him about the hair thing,” Roy said. “Anyway, that’s great news.”

“Yeah, and Barbara came back!”

“Who’s Barbara?” Jamie asked.

“My CFO. She worked for Jack, but she resigned because she wants to work for me. Which is great news for me because I really, really don’t want to waste Rebecca’s money, you know? And Barbara is very…firm.”

Jamie didn’t know what a CFO was, who Jack was, why Keeley was worried about wasting Rebecca’s money, or in what way Barbara was firm. But he swallowed down his questions and focused on washing his mug.

Roy flipped the sausage and turned off the burner. “That’s good. Business is going to be booming again before you know it.”

“I hope so. I feel good about it. Like, really good.”

He didn’t understand the rest of it, but he always liked it when Keeley smiled like that. “That’s great, Keeley. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help, yeah? I look great in those sunglasses.”

“It’s a woman’s line, Jamie.”

Jamie shrugged. “Still look great in them, don’t I?” He nudged into Roy’s shoulder. “Tell her.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do. Those sunglasses I was wearing last week?”

“Oh my god. Those ridiculously huge round things?”

“Yeah.”

Roy inclined his head. “He did look a little fit.”

“See? And that’s coming from him, so you know I must have looked dead fucking sexy, right?”

Roy rolled his eyes. “Get the plates, will ya?”

Jamie pulled three plates from the cupboard and set them on the counter for Roy.

“How hungry are you?” Roy asked.

“Fucking starving,” Jamie answered.

“I wasn’t talking to you.”

“Oh, well, I am. Just so you know.” He was actually getting hungrier now he had his coffee, like his stomach just woke up to join the rest of him.

“What about you, Keeley?”

“I’m a normal level of starving.”

“Got it,” Roy said, and started to dish up a plate that Jamie assumed was meant for Keeley. Until Roy slid it over to him. It was barely half of the serving Roy usually made him for breakfast.

“Hey! I said I was fucking starving.”

“You didn’t work out this morning.”

“I know, but I could eat my own arm off.”

“You can’t load up on calories if you don’t work out.”

“But this is a celebration breakfast! My celebration breakfast. You really going to leave me to starve?”

“You’re not going to starve, Jamie.”

“I am. I’m practically dead right now.”

“Eat what’s on your plate and if you’re still starving when you’re done, you can have another banger, right?”

Jamie shook his head. “You’re such a dickhead.”

“I could throw it in the rubbish,” Roy offered, gesturing to the bin with the plate.

“Fine, you’re not a dickhead,” Jamie conceded, taking the food before Roy made good on his threat. “But you are a twat. And if I starve to death, it’ll be on your head.”

“I can live with that. Keeley?” He held out a chair and gestured for her. “Refill her coffee, Tartt.”

“Yeah, sure.” Jamie didn’t mind refilling her coffee. It was probably the last thing he would ever do on earth before he starved to death. So what if he didn’t work out that morning? He’d been working hard all week! Plus, his heart was racing so fast from this whole ordeal that it was like going for a run.

Jamie felt so incredibly awkward about being the biggest third wheel ever that it probably didn’t even matter how much Roy actually served him. But hunger overcame his discomfort, and it was fucking good food. Keeley looked uncomfortable as well, picking at her plate while her eyes darted between him and Roy. The only person who didn’t seem at all perturbed by the arrangement was Roy, who was happily asking Jamie questions about his week and laughing at the answers in between bites. Finally, Keeley dropped her fork, like her appetite was completely gone even though her plate was mostly full.

“How you doing?” Jamie asked. “Food alright?”

“Don’t give him any of your food,” Roy warned.

“Oi! I wasn’t asking for her food.”

Keeley smiled. “No, I’m good. The food’s wonderful.”

“Do you want some more coffee? Or juice? Anything?” Jamie offered.

“No, thank you.”

He glanced over to Roy, waiting for him to say something about their plans for the rest of the day, or really, say anything. But he was drinking his tea. So Jamie forged ahead. “Are you going to stay and watch the footie with us?”

“Oh, I would, but I have some work I need to do today. Richmond and Ms. Jaye are both great accounts, but we’re losing Bantr, so I need to prepare some pitches for tomorrow.”

Roy still wasn’t saying anything! Did he want to fumble Keeley a second time? Christ, how did Roy ever win her over to start with?

“You’ll come by for dinner tonight, right? Roy’s going to make a proper Sunday roast.”

“Yeah, I’d love that.”

Jamie meant to shoot Roy a look that said you’re welcome dickhead but Roy was actually smiling at him, and Jamie felt that familiar warmth in his cheeks. He wasn’t even sure what he did to earn that smile, but it did help settle some of the nerves in his stomach, even as his face turned hot. He looked down at what remained of his disappointing serving and wondered if Keeley noticed him blush.

“You still starving?” Roy asked as Jamie scraped his plate clean.

“Yes.”

“Well, go have a banana. You probably need the potassium.”

Jamie stood, collected his plate, and returned to the kitchen, but he didn’t grab a banana. Instead he started to tidy up.

“So what time should I come over for dinner?” Keeley asked.

“Should be ready by four.”

“Four in the afternoon?”

“Yeah, but we can push it back to five, if that works better for you.”

“Why would you eat dinner at four in the afternoon?”

“Because Jamie needs to do yoga before he goes to bed, and he needs to go to bed early tonight. Training camp really fucked up his schedule.”

“It was like being on holiday. Everybody else was moaning that seven was too early to start, and I was having a great time.” Jamie gestured at the table. “You done with your plates?”

“We’ll take care of them.”

Perfect, because Jamie did not want to stay in that room for another second. “Sick. I’m gonna go shower. Good seeing you, Keeley.” He took the stairs two at a time, but he wasn’t out of earshot when Keeley spoke again.

“Um, Roy, does Jamie live here now?”

“No, why?”

“It just seems like he does.”

“Oh, well, yeah he does spend a lot of time here, and he’s constantly dragging shit into the house, like he’s a fucking packrat or something. But that’s just because it’s more convenient with our schedule.”

“But you’re off today,” she pointed out.

“Yeah, but, he was gone all week.”

“I see.”

“So, is four okay or would you like something a little later?”

“I understand Jamie needs to eat early but can’t you and I maybe have dinner a little later? Just the two of us?”

“Oh, yeah. Of course, that’s fine. Seven good?”

“Perfect. I hate to eat and run but—”

“You’re a busy woman, I get it. I’ll walk you out to your car. Oi! Tartt! Say goodbye to Keeley!” Roy shouted, like he knew Jamie was still right there on the landing.

“Bye Keeley!”

Jamie hurried into the bathroom, mainly to avoid talking to Roy for a few minutes. He was more than happy to eat dinner early by himself if it meant avoiding another meal like that. Once a day was more than enough for him. At least Roy had seemed satisfied with the breakfast, and they didn’t have any plans but watching some footie, which was always fun because Roy may not be on television anymore but he still had a lot of opinions.

Would Keeley be sleeping over after dinner? Jamie couldn’t be sure of what either of them meant by taking it slow, but he decided he better just accept it was happening. He’d give them their privacy and their space and try to stay out of Keeley’s way and stop Roy from fucking it all up again. Like the team player he was.

#

By the time Keeley reached Roy’s, there was a text on her phone telling her to let herself in. Her heart skipped a beat with excitement as she imagined what special, romantic treat Roy had in store for her. But when she opened the front door, instead of being greeted with candlelight and music, she heard Jamie and Roy shouting at the blaring television. She followed the sound and stopped short, too confused and shocked to even say hello.

Roy was on the couch, Jamie bending over the back, arms draped over Roy’s shoulder, hands patting a chaotic beat on his stomach while they both shouted at the match on the telly. His rhythm picked up tempo until finally somebody scored a goal, and he jumped in the air, arms raised triumphantly.

“That’s twenty quid, old man.”

“I’ll subtract it from what you owe me.”

“I don’t owe you!”

Roy stood up to face him. “What are you talking about. You already owe me forty quid.”

“I do not.”

“You do, too. I have it right here on my phone.”

“Hi, boys.”

Her greeting pulled them out of their argument, and they both smiled at her.

“Hey, Keeley. I was just heading upstairs. Roy told me you wanted some alone time with him.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Take it easy on him, yeah? He needs to be able to keep up with me tomorrow.”

“Good night, Jamie,” Roy growled.

Jamie held out his hand expectantly.

“What?”

“You owe me twenty quid. We had a bet and you lost.”

“Fine.” Roy pulled out his wallet and handed the note over to Jamie. “But you still owe me forty.”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“I do not.” He tucked the money in his pocket and smiled at Keeley again before heading upstairs.

Roy came around the couch and took her by the shoulders, leaning in to give her a soft kiss. “You look even more beautiful than this morning.”

That was because she took the time to change before she came over for their dinner date, but he was wearing the same track pants and T-shirt he had on that morning. Beer bottles and empty crisps bags were scattered around the coffee table, and Jamie’s yoga mat was still rolled out on the floor.

Roy followed her eyes and grimaced. “Sorry ‘bout the mess. We lost track of time. Come on, let’s have dinner.”

The dining table was laid with two places, the exact same way as it was that morning, which told her Jamie was the one who took the time to do it. The only difference was instead of juice glasses, he’d placed two wine goblets next to the plates, and a candlestick in the center.

“So why does Jamie owe your forty quid?”

“Oh, it’s just a silly bet. Actually, he probably doesn’t owe it, but I like to fuck with him. Don’t tell him that, though.”

“Your secret’s safe with me.”

“Thanks, babe. Have a seat, I’ll get you some wine.”

Dinner was lovely and Jamie didn’t make an appearance, but Roy couldn’t quite keep him out of the conversation. Most of his stories either started or ended with something Jamie had said or done, and he didn’t seem to notice how strange it was that he talked about Jamie so much. He didn’t even have as many stories about Phoebe.

Conversations involving Jamie only stopped when Roy took her upstairs, and everything was fantastic. Wonderful. Fun as she remembered, intimate, exciting. It felt so good to be with Roy again, to have him kiss her like he never wanted to stop kissing her, hold her like she was the most precious thing in the world. It felt amazing to fall asleep in his arms, surrounded by the scent of his skin, slipping into dreams about what the future might hold for them.

And then at 3:30 she was very rudely torn from those dreams by the sound of Roy’s alarm. Then he was rolling away from her.

“Where you going?”

“Time to get up, babe. But you can go back to sleep.”

“Stay with me.”

“Tempting, but I can’t.”

“Please?”

“Oi! Kent! Where the fuck are my boots!”

Roy threw the door open. “Lower your voice. Keeley is trying to sleep.”

“Oh, sorry. But where are my boots.”

“Where you left them.”

“No, they’re not. You moved them when you were hoovering or whatever.”

“Oh, well, check the closet. You know, where they belong.”

“Right. Sorry again, Keeley.”

“Sorry he’s such a prick. We’ll be back for breakfast around six thirty, if you want to join us.”

Keeley covered her face with the pillow, trying to swallow down her disappointment. Roy had warned her he would be getting up in the middle of the night, but she didn’t really believe he’d just be able to leave her in bed like that. But he slipped out of the room without another word, leaving her to toss and turn in a bed that was far less comfortable without him in it. Ultimately, she found herself awake at six thirty, and decided to join them for breakfast after all. She found them standing at the kitchen counter, shoulder to shoulder, their plates of food in front of them, but their attention on Jamie’s phone.

“See what I’m saying? Yeah, they’re fast on defense, but that’s all they got. We can use that speed against them, right? Have them running into their own players.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I’ll bring this up to Beard today.” Roy nudged him with his shoulder. “You’re smarter than you look, pretty boy.”

It sounded like it could have been an insult, but it wasn’t. At all. Jamie blushed like he did the previous morning—just on the top of his cheeks, his eyes immediately looking away. Something slithered through Keeley, something she’d never, ever experienced before when it came to Roy because no matter what was going on, she was always the center of his attention. Now not only was that not true, but she was also starting to think it would never be true again. A part of her had believed the previous day had been a fluke, because of the National team, but now she felt…threatened.

Keeley immediately tried to squash that feeling down. Threatened by Jamie? That was ridiculous. He hadn’t done one single thing to make her think he’d get in the way of their relationship. And she didn’t need to be the sole focus of Roy’s attention to know that Roy loved her. In fact, it was probably a good thing Roy had something to laser in on, because she had a mountain of work to climb that was going to take up most of her time.

“Good morning, boys.”

They both looked up with their equally beautiful smiles, and that was enough to blow away her uneasy feeling for the moment.

“Hey, Keeley. I’ll get you some coffee.”

“Thanks, Jamie.”

Roy pushed away from the counter to give her a good morning kiss. “Sorry again about the early wake-up call. But that’s why we usually have dinner so early around here. What do you want for breakfast?”

“Just some toast is fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Tartt!”

“I heard her! Look, already doing it.”

“So what’s on your agenda today?” Roy asked, leading her over to the table.

“Well, I’m meeting with the people from Cafka over lunch. They really liked the commercials I did for them before, and they also always liked Shandy, so I feel pretty good about winning them over.”

“You’ll fucking kill it,” Jamie said encouragingly. “Those Cafka people have always loved you. Remember that lion ad was only supposed to go for like a month, but they had that campaign up for six.”

Keeley blinked, absurdly touched that Jamie even remembered that, and suddenly guilty for her jealous feelings. Jamie was always going to be on her side. She knew that.

“Thanks, Jamie. I also have a meeting this afternoon with a startup working on a sports app. It’s not for football specifically, but I think my previous experience will impress them, and I’m willing to take a hit on the budget to make the bid more appealing to them.”

“Sounds like we’ll have a couple of things to celebrate tonight,” Roy said.

“Yeah, maybe you can come by after work?”

“Um…we’ll be done around eight. I can come over for a little bit after that.”

“Why so late?”

“Training.”

“But don’t you guys usually get done around five?”

“Oh, yeah, team training ends at five, but then Jamie has another workout before dinner.”

After what happened that morning, Keeley knew arguing would be a waste of breath. All she could do was smile and say brightly, “Then eight will be perfect.”

Jamie brought her coffee, just the way she liked it, and two perfectly toasted pieces of bread, cut into perfectly even triangles. He topped off Roy’s cup without asking if Roy wanted more, then started pulling bottle after bottle of vitamins and supplements from the cupboard.

“I hate these things, you know.”

“I know, you tell me every morning.”

“Well, they’re nasty.”

“Listen to me for once and just pop the whole handful in your mouth and swallow.”

Jamie grimaced. “I can’t swallow a whole handful of pills.”

“How is it different from swallowing a mouthful of food?”

“It’s very different. Keeley understands, right Keeley?”

“Sorry, babe, but Jamie is right about this.”

Jamie stuck out his tongue. “See?”

“Keep that thing in your mouth where it belongs.”

Jamie stuck it out further.

“I will cut it off.”

Jamie waggled it, laughed, and went back to popping his pills one at a time. She expected Roy to roll his eyes, but he only watched him with that same unmistakable fondness. Like Jamie being ridiculous about taking pills and sticking his tongue out was literally the cutest thing he’d ever seen. Keeley nibbled on her toast and tried to think of a time he’d looked at her that way. Of course, she got other looks from him. Looks that so far she hadn’t seen directed towards Jamie—and if she ever did see him look at Jamie like he wanted to tear his clothes off, they would have to have a serious discussion. A part of her wanted to have a serious discussion right now, but what could she even say? She didn’t like the way he sometimes smiled at Jamie?

“Thanks for the breakfast, boys. I gotta go put my armor on for the day.”

“Fucking kill them!” Jamie shouted as she walked to the door.

Roy walked her to her car as he’d done the day before and gave her another kiss that soothed all her fears away.

#

“Okay, so, tell me everything,” Rebecca said, opening her little pink box of biscuits and offering Keeley one.

“About what?”

“What do you mean about what? About everything. Talk to me.”

“Well, the business is actually going really great. We’ve got Miss Jaye, Cakfa, and Sportstastic confirmed this week, and those are pretty big accounts, you know? Between those three and Richmond, Barbara says our forecast for the quarter is actually really strong.”

“Uh huh. Great. Now get to the good stuff. How are things with Roy?”

“Oh, well.  Good.”

Rebecca frowned. “Uh oh. That doesn’t sound good.”

“No, really, things are good. We’ve been taking it slow, you know, except…”

“Except?” Rebecca prompted.

“I didn’t realize things were going to go this slow. I mean, I know we’re both super busy, and obviously, he’s got to make the team his top priority but—”

“But?”

“It’s Jamie. He’s around all the time. And when he’s not with Roy, it’s only because Roy has taken like, an hour out of his day to come over to visit me.”

“Really? Ted mentioned they were getting closer. Isn’t he helping him with extra training?”

“Yes, they start their work out at four, which means if I sleep over, I’m waking up with them at three thirty.”

“Oh, god. Barbaric.”

“Right? Then they have breakfast together every morning and dinner together every night.”

“Why dinner?”

“Because they work out at night, too.”

“Why can’t Jamie go home for dinner?”

“Because Roy cooks all his meals for him. Then after dinner they watch telly or do yoga or something, and then he sleeps at Roy’s house.”

“Why?”

“So, they can sleep until half three.”

“Jesus.”

“That’s insane, right?”

“Yes, but effective." Rebecca took a bite of her biscuit. "I mean, we have won the last thirteen games in a row.”

Keeley groaned. “I know. That’s why I haven’t said anything about it, but how much longer can this go on?”

“Did you talk to Roy about it? Tell him that you need a bit more private time with him?”

“Yes, so he stays until half nine instead of leaving at nine.”

“Well, at least he’s willing to compromise.” Rebecca took a sip of tea. “But isn’t this what you wanted? Time and space to live your own life?”

“Well, yeah, but this is a little extreme, right? There’s got to be a happy medium between living on top of each other and seeing each other for one hour every three days.”

“Maybe Roy doesn’t want to live in that medium space. It sounds like he enjoys living on top of Jamie.”

Keeley shuddered automatically, the flippant language striking at the very core of her most secret insecurity.

“What was that?” Rebecca asked with a narrowing of her sharp eyes. 

“What?”

“That shiver. I saw that. Is he…literally on top of Jamie?”

“No, no, nothing like that. At least, I don’t think so. It’s just…” Keeley looked around, as if to double check there was nobody to hear what she was about to say. “I don’t know, I’m sure there’s nothing going on, but it feels like there could be. He’s constantly calling Jamie pet names. Like the first time he said ‘pretty boy’ I thought he was joking, but I hear him using it all the time when he thinks I’m out of earshot.”

“Pretty. Boy?”

“Yes.”

“They might be fucking.”

“Ugh. Don’t say that, please. He’s just so…affectionate.”

“What about Jamie? Is he acting possessive or anything like that?”

“No, of course not. Sometimes I think Jamie is happier to see me than Roy is.”

“And a threesome is out of the question why?” Rebecca asked.

“I’ve thought about it, obviously, but I’m afraid if I put those two in the position to have sex, they’ll just forget I’m there. They are that intense about each other. And I don’t think I can handle being that jealous.”

“You’re jealous of Jamie right now?”

Keeley sighed. “Maybe. I don’t know. I’m trying not to be.”

“If Roy was too busy to spend time with you because he was training other players or taking care of his niece, would you be this upset? Or is it specifically about Jamie?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never seen him treat anybody, including Phoebe, the way he treats Jamie.”

“I see. Well, I think you should talk to him about this. If you’re going to be in a relationship, you need to talk about your dealbreakers, and it sounds like this might be one. But do me a favor and wait until the end of the season, because I really don’t want Jamie’s situation to get fucked up right now.”

“Of course.”

It wasn’t like she wanted to fuck up Jamie’s situation, either. She was just completely unprepared for how much Jamie’s situation overlapped her situation, and if fucking them both at the same time would solve this problem for her, she would absolutely do it. She’d been in threesomes before, and she’d always been the one most wanted, the one attracting all the attention. But she had the uneasy feeling in this scenario that Jamie would be doing whatever Roy told him to do, including giving Keeley all his attention if that was what Roy wanted, and Roy would be transfixed by Jamie doing what he was told. Hell, Jamie just being Jamie was enough to transfix Roy.

Roy had told her that they ate dinner at seven every night and she was always welcome to join them, so after she left Rebecca, she decided to drive over there. Actually being with Roy usually helped drive the doubt from her mind, at least temporarily. Maybe she should start having dinner with them every night, if she was worried about not spending enough time with Roy. Start building from there. She decided not to text first, and she knew it was rude to drop in like that, but a part of her was so fucking curious. What would they be doing if they weren’t expecting her? Would she catch them in some inappropriate act or would they just be bickering over Jamie's boots in the foyer?

Keeley tried the front door before she knocked, and was surprised that it opened easily. Maybe they kept it unlocked for her?

They? This is not Jamie’s house.

It wasn’t, but it sure seemed like this was their house that they lived in, and ate in, and slept in together.

She expected to find them in the kitchen, but it was empty, counters bare, dinner not even started yet. It wasn’t like them to vary in their routine, and that small change made her pulse suddenly hammer. What were they doing if they weren’t cooking? The living room was empty and silent as well, so she made her way to the room Roy had converted to his gym/yoga studio.

She found them in there, but they weren’t wrapped up in a workout. They were both on the floor, Roy with his back against the wall, Jamie settled between his legs, back against his chest, head on his shoulder, eyes closed. Roy was massaging him, hands moving along his upper-arms and shoulders, then across his pecs. Roy had enough experience receiving sports massages to know how to give them as well, and they were both fully dressed. Absolutely nothing inappropriate was going on. And yet, Keeley felt a little ill, that green fire flaring through her midsection again.

“It’s okay, sweet boy. You’re okay. You don’t need to worry about a thing, right?”

Jamie nodded.

“Right. That’s my good boy.” Roy looked up, spotting her, and she froze, convinced she’d just seen something he wouldn’t want her to see. But instead of telling her to get lost or asking just what the fuck she was doing, Roy held out one his hand, gesturing for her to join them. “Hi, Keeley. Come sit with us. Jamie’s had a bit of a rough day.”

“What happened?” Keeley ventured closer, lowering herself to the mat beside them. Jamie didn’t open his eyes.

“Nothing we need to talk about right now. Here.”

Roy put Jamie’s hand in hers and it was like a clump of ice touching her, and her first instinct was to pull away, but instead she adjusted her grip, folding both her hands around his, trying to rub warmth into his fingers. Roy continued to massage him, so Keeley continued to rub his fingers, watching his face for any hint of what the problem might be. Gradually, the tension eased from between his eyes, and his clenched jaw relaxed. That must have been what Roy was waiting for, because he patted Jamie’s chest and Jamie immediately opened his eyes and straightened. He blinked at her, like he didn’t quite realize she was the one holding his hand, and then stood with an easy motion.

“Go on up and shower.”

Jamie nodded, walking out of the room without a word.

Keeley debated with herself for all of three seconds before saying, “Um, what was that?”

“I told you, Jamie had a rough day.”

“So, he needed a cuddle?”

“Yeah. Don’t you need a cuddle sometimes?”

“Jamie can find somebody else to cuddle with him, Roy. He's never had a problem pulling before.”

“Jamie sometimes has needs other than sex.”

“And you’re the guy who takes care of that for him?” The words sounded spiteful to her own ears.

Roy tilted his head. “Do we have a problem here?”

“I don’t know, Roy. I really don’t know. I thought we were working on our relationship, but what do you even need with me when you have Jamie around all the time?”

“Need? Keeley, I enjoy being with you, I enjoy your company, and I love you. Is that not enough for you?”

“No, it's not. You two are so wrapped up in each other, Roy. It’s like there’s no room for anybody else in your life.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way.”

Roy started to walk away, but Keeley grabbed his arm. “Where are you going?”

“To make dinner. Are you joining us?”

“Are you kidding? I’m trying to talk to you and all you care about is making Jamie’s dinner?”

Roy pulled away from her grip. “If you and me spend time together, it’s because that’s what we both want. But Jamie, he needs me. Every day. And every day I’m there for him, it makes him just that much better. So, I’m going to make his dinner, and if he needs to sit in my fucking lap while he eats it, that’s fine with me. You are more than welcome to stay. We both love to have you around. But I am not going to shove him away.”

Keeley blinked, trying to process everything he’d just said. “You sound like you love him.”

“I do love him.”

He said it so plainly, so casually, that Keeley couldn’t even respond. He took her silence as an invitation to leave, and he was several feet ahead of her when she could finally move again. Jealousy snaked its way through her, threading through her ribs.

“Is he your boyfriend?”

“Why are you asking?”

“Well as your girlfriend, I have the right to know.”

“No, he's not. And you’re not my girlfriend. We're taking it slow, remember? We haven't even talked about that yet." 

"We're talking about it now! I can't be your girlfriend if you have another fucking relationship." 

"I don't!" 

"You just said you're in love with Jamie." 

"I didn't say that, either." Roy started to pull food out of the fridge, and he really was going to go forward with his plan to cook dinner. “I think you should go home, Keeley, because you want to fight, and I don’t want to fight with you.”

“I don’t want to fight. I'm trying to tell you about my feelings." 

“What has Jamie taken from you that you’re so defensive about? You think you don’t get enough of my time? Are you the only one I’m allowed to love? Jamie is important to me, Keeley."

Keeley wanted to stop her feet she was getting so frustrated. "I'm not asking you to never speak to him again. I'm asking you to tell him to go home!"

"I don't want him to go."

So you and Jamie are a package deal whether I like it or not?" 

"I guess so." 

“That's not what I signed up for, Roy.”

“What do you think you signed up for?”

“Why couldn’t you just be honest with me from the beginning? I can deal with you having another relationship if you fucking tell me.”

“Another relationship? Keeley,  we are friends. Just friends.”

“And you’re fucking him," Keeley said flatly.

Roy’s eyes widened with shock. “Whoa. I am not fucking him.”

“I know he's slept in your bed, Roy.”

“Yeah, I let him sleep in my room, but we’re not fucking.”

“Why not? What’s stopped you?”

“What? How is that any of your business?”

“It’s very much my business if you want to fuck the guy who is around all the time. I’m just asking you to be honest with me!”

Roy growled and rubbed his hand over his face. “You want to know if I want to fuck Jamie? You really want to know?" 

"That's why I asked. I need to know if I can even trust you to tell me the truth."

"Alright, yes.”

Keeley had been so heated in her anger but now she felt like Roy dumped a bucket of cold water over her head. “What? What do you mean yes?”

“I mean, of course I want to fuck him. That doesn’t mean that I am, or that I have, or even that I would.”

Keeley gaped at him, and it took a moment to find her voice again. “Do you even hear yourself? How would you feel if I said that I wanted to fuck Jamie?”

Roy actually shrugged. “Jamie’s fucking fit. You fucked him for months. I’d be more surprised if you said you didn’t want to.”

“Oh my god. That’s not the point.”

“What’s the point, then Keeley? You’re not ready for a relationship and I’m supposed to just sit here alone in my house while I wait for you to change your mind?”

“I think I’m just going to head home tonight,” Jamie interrupted from the doorway. “It sounds like you two have a lot to discuss.”

“Thank you, Jamie, we do—”

“Jamie, you’re not going anywhere.”

Keeley spun back to Roy. Was she losing her mind? Did she wake up in some bizarre alternate universe? “We need to talk.”

“Jamie needs to eat dinner,” Roy said, like she didn't get the message the first time.

“This is a dealbreaker for me, Roy.”

Roy stopped mid-chop. “Jamie is a dealbreaker?”

Keeley folded her arms. “Yes.”

“Are there any other friends of mine that I’m not allowed to spend time with or is it just Jamie?”

“Are there any other friends of yours that you want to fuck? If this is going to work at all, you need to respect my boundaries.”

“Fair. Jamie, will you please get the chicken out for me?”

Keeley didn’t want to be a third wheel in her own relationship, and that wasn’t unreasonable, so why was Roy acting like she was the bad guy? He wasn’t really going to walk away from her like this over Jamie Tartt?

Or maybe it had always been about Jamie Tartt. How long after they broke up did Roy start seeing to his personal training? How long until he moved Jamie into the house? When did he realize he wanted to fuck Jamie? Was that a recent epiphany or maybe it had been on his mind for years?

“How long has this been going on?” Keeley demanded.

“How long has what been going on?”

“This thing with Jamie. Is this why you broke up with me?”

“Keeley, there’s nothing going on,” Jamie said. “Swear down. We weren’t even friends last year. And I’m sorry if I ever did anything to make you think otherwise.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Jamie. This conversation is over, Keeley. I think you should go home.”

“Just like that?”

“What else is there to say? I’m not sending him away and you don’t want to stay if he’s here.”

Keeley felt cold again as she realized Roy really, truly meant that. He was really going to choose Jamie over her. God, she couldn’t believe this was happening. In that moment, she was more angry at herself than anything. Why would she even give Roy a second chance after the way he stomped on her heart? What had she been thinking? “Go to hell, Roy.” She pivoted on her heel and marched out of the house, her head held high, slamming the door behind her hard enough to make the window rattle.

Chapter Text

Replaying the entire fight as he butterflied the chicken, Roy had no fucking idea how they even got to that point. Keeley never once indicated she had any sort of problem with Jamie, never indicated she was unhappy with their arrangement, never asked for more from him, never even referred to herself as his girlfriend since they started up again. They felt more like fuck buddies than a couple, but wasn’t that basically what she wanted when she said she wasn’t ready for a relationship?

Jamie was hovering at the edge of the kitchen, like he still thought he was going somewhere, and Roy didn’t even know where to start. How much had Jamie heard? Probably every word. Things had escalated into shouting pretty quickly, and it was clear Jamie never made it as far as the shower. Things with Keeley were likely damaged beyond repair, and Roy had a hard time caring about that when he had no idea the extent of the damage with Jamie. Roy seasoned the chicken breasts like his life fucking depended on it and then popped the pan into the pre-heated oven. He really didn’t know what he was going to do if Jamie still insisted on leaving.

“Jamie, I’m sorry that you got dragged into that.” He wasn’t just sorry, he was pretty fucking angry about it, too. If Keeley wanted to have it out with him, he could take it, but Jamie had done absolutely nothing wrong.

Jamie blinked and straightened, fingers winding around the hem of his shirt. “Um, yeah. I…I mean, it’s alright.”

“No, it’s not. I didn’t know that she felt that way.”

Roy had actually really enjoyed spending time with both of them, and he thought they felt the same way. Jamie always was friendly and charming, going out of his way to do things for Keeley, and Keeley had seemed warm to him, like she was happy they were friends. Roy was happy they were friends. They were his favorite people, and instead of being defensive or jealous or tense, he was free to simply enjoy everything about them.

“Maybe she’s right, though? Maybe I am around too much.”

“Maybe for her, but not to me.”

“But–” Jamie bit his bottom lip. “If she’s, like, the love of your life, maybe you should go after her or something.”

“I’m not going after her.”

Jamie looked bewildered. “But you said she was the only one you’ve ever been in love with, and I don’t want to be the reason you’re…if you love each other, you can work it out.”

Jamie was having a hard time meeting his eyes. He’d look up for only a moment and this gaze would dart away again, back to his feet, or over Roy’s shoulder, or up to the ceiling. Before Keeley’s unplanned arrival, Roy had been looking forward to what amounted to a night full of cuddling Jamie. He’d been battered in the match that week, and still had a few bruises to show for how hard they went after him, and he kept checking his phone for messages. The match against City was coming up, and Jamie hadn’t heard from his piece of shit father. Yet. That day’s announcement that he was also named the Premier League Player of the Month should have been a cause for celebration, but if anything, it seemed to put him more on edge. Like the extra attention was shining an unwanted spotlight on him, sure to attract the shitstain’s attention. Jamie hadn’t told him any of this, but Roy had been aware of each individual stressor and he could do the math pretty easily. And now on top of what was already weighing on his mind, he was fucking worried about Roy’s fucking disaster of a love life.

“It’s not your fault, Jamie.”

“You say that, but it sure sounded like her problem is with me.”

“No, the problem is that, once again, she and I have completely different ideas of what we’re doing. She could have said something sooner. Maybe we could have talked it over and reached some sort of compromise. Maybe not.” Probably not, because Roy wasn’t open to any compromise that sent Jamie packing. “We’ll never know now.”

“Why does she think…why did she say that thing about you wanting to fuck me?”

Maybe he hadn’t heard Roy’s confession. Or he was pretending he didn’t hear it so Roy would have the opening to say she’s crazy who knows why she would say that. But she wasn’t crazy, and even though Roy very much resented being goaded into saying the words out loud, he did say them. He said them and he meant them. Just like he meant it when he said he loved Jamie. But he would never fuck around behind her back and especially not with Jamie. Not like she was implying. He wasn’t a cheater and he wouldn’t treat Jamie like that, either.

“Because I told her I do.”

Jamie’s eyes widened. “You said that? Why would you say that?”

“She kept asking.”

“But…you don’t.”

Another out? Or did Jamie really believe that somehow? Was it best for both of them if he continued to believe it? Roy could just let the subject drop and maybe they could get back to normal–which was so much like how Roy treated Keeley that she believed they were in a relationship. Her first accusation wasn’t just about fucking Jamie, it was about loving Jamie, it was about Jamie being his boyfriend. Was that Roy wanted? Well, if that was normal, then yes, that was exactly what Roy wanted.

“I’m very attracted to you, pretty boy. Do you think I’m blind and I haven’t noticed how fit you are? I mean, I don’t see so well at night anymore but I can see you just fine.”

Maybe he did think Roy’s eyes were failing him because he looked absolutely stunned, mouth opened, his face suddenly red.

“I’m just saying because I…I want to be honest, but nothing has to change here.”

Roy barely had a chance to brace himself before Jamie slammed into him. Jamie’s arms went around him in a familiar embrace and then Jamie’s mouth was pressed against his. His lips were even softer than they looked, and Roy responded automatically, grasping the back of his head, sliding his tongue over Jamie’s lips. They parted for him and Roy shifted forward, deepening the kiss and pushing Jamie against the counter.

Kissing Jamie wasn’t so very different from hugging him or holding him–in that once Roy started, he didn’t want to stop, but he also wasn’t sure he should be doing it at all. Was it the right thing to do? Should he have pushed Jamie away or should he have kissed Jamie weeks ago? Maybe he should have kept his fucking mouth shut. Maybe he should have listened to Keeley and had a hard look at what he was doing, at how entangled he’d become with Jamie Tartt. Maybe they were too close? It was hard to say when all Roy wanted was to be closer. Jamie’s arms were tight around his ribs, squeezing almost to the point of pain, but Roy barely noticed his lungs were burning because everything was burning.

Jamie broke from the kiss first, but he didn’t try to put any distance between them. He was breathing hard–much harder than Roy ever heard during training these days–and Roy was sure the blush in his cheeks had crawled all the way down his throat. Roy tried to think of something to say, but he was all out of his words. Like it only took that one kiss to completely fry his brain. His lips were tingling and he already missed the feel of Jamie’s mouth on his, so he pulled Jamie into another kiss. This one was slower, more exploratory, testing to see if Jamie would follow his lead, if Jamie wanted more or if he had been acting on some unknown impulse. And Jamie was, of course, perfectly responsive, willing to follow Roy’s unhurried pace, completely open but with an edge of hunger. Roy could practically feel him vibrating with excitement.

Roy lost track of time, forgot they were standing in the kitchen, forgot about the fight with Keeley, and forgot to torment himself with a thousand questions. When their mouths parted, it was only long enough to gasp for breath and then they were sealed together again. Roy couldn’t get enough. The more he kissed Jamie, the more he wanted to kiss Jamie, and all of the feelings he had tried to push down, ignore, downplay, and repress were released, racing through his blood and fueling the sharp desire for more. Roy had shared so many first kisses–more than he could count, certainly more than he remembered–but none of them had gone on and on like this. None of them stole his breath and left him winded from the shock of it. None of them had ever felt like they were years too late.

They might have stayed there all night, locked together like that, but the timer on the oven started to ring. At first, Roy couldn’t understand what the sound was. It barely registered through the fog in his brain, and even after he heard it, he didn’t realize it was the chicken. Not enough time had passed. But when it just went on and on, he realized that he had just spent at least thirty minutes devouring Jamie’s mouth, and that made him realize a few other things–first, he could smell the chicken and it would be burned if he didn’t move soon, and second his lips felt raw and tender. Jamie blinked up at him as Roy finally pulled away, and his lips were a deep shade of red, his skin rubbed pink from Roy’s beard. Roy had to tear his gaze away so he wouldn’t give in to the urge to resume kissing Jamie and forget all about the chicken.

“It’s the oven,” Roy rasped, and Jamie finally released him. His ribs actually hurt, but Roy didn’t give that a second thought, except to think about how fucking strong Jamie was, which was fucking hot. He felt dazed as he crossed the kitchen, like he had just slammed down a half dozen pints without stopping and he was drunk to the point of dizziness. He mashed the buttons on the stove until the timer stopped beeping and barely remembered to grab the hot pads before sticking his hands into the hot stove. He managed to get the chicken out without sending it to the floor, depositing it safely on the cooling rack, turning off the heat, and closing the door, and by then the pulse in his throat had started to slow.

Jamie needs to eat, Roy reminded himself sternly. He couldn’t just ignore that basic fact. But when Roy turned around, he saw Jamie was still standing exactly where Roy left him, using the counter to support his weight, hip cocked out, completely disheveled. If Keeley returned at that moment, there would be absolutely no doubt what they’d been doing. Which almost made Roy laugh. If Roy had been fucking them both at the same time, Keeley would have known long before now because Jamie would look like that every morning and every evening and probably most afternoons, too.

Fucking hell, Roy wanted him. With an intensity he wasn’t going to be able to repress. He was starving for Jamie Tartt. Practically gagging for him. He licked his lips and Jamie visibly shivered in response. Roy moved without thinking, closing the space between them in just two strides, and then Jamie was wrapped around him again, mouth upturned to meet Roy’s demanding lips. Roy’s tongue plunged into his mouth, and Jamie shifted against his hips, unabashedly grinding his erection over Roy’s leg. He didn’t want the first time he fucked Jamie to be right there on the kitchen floor, but they might have already been past the point it mattered.

“Jamie–”

That was all Roy managed before Jamie attached himself to Roy’s throat, sucking on the skin above his pulse, which was absolutely hammering again, the pressure of his hot mouth driving all other thoughts from Roy’s mind. He wanted to feel Jamie’s mouth everywhere. He clawed at Jamie’s shirt, pulling the material up his ribs and moaning as he finally got his hands on his smooth, warm skin. Jamie’s hands were busy, too, gripping Roy’s waistband and tugging his pants down. His cock sprung free, hard as a rock and absolutely wet from how bad he wanted Jamie.

“Oh, fuck,” Roy gasped as Jamie started to move, kissing down Roy’s chest–his mouth blazing hot even through the material of his shirt–and dropping to his knees.

There had been times–before they started training–when Roy had fantasized about forcing Jamie to his knees, but his imagination couldn’t even begin to paint the picture of the reality, which was almost delicious enough to send Roy crashing down to his own knees. Jamie held Roy’s cock by the base, angling towards his mouth, looking up through his stupidly long lashes to watch Roy’s face as he licked over the tip. Jamie had never looked prettier, which meant he was the prettiest thing Roy had ever seen in his life.

Roy had to brace himself with one hand against the counter as Jamie closed his lips around the top and buried his other hand in Jamie’s hair. Jamie moaned his approval, his mouth vibrating as he took more of Roy’s dick. He kept moving, moving lower and lower, and Roy’s hand flexed tighter in his hair until Jamie’s mouth met the fingers he had wrapped around Roy’s base, and Roy’s fingers were locked in a fist. Roy had to bite down on his bottom lip and fight back against pleasure that was already swelling into an orgasm. Not even thirty seconds in Jamie’s mouth and he was already at the brink of explosion. But it wasn’t just thirty seconds–it was thirty minutes of kissing, and three months of holding him every night and three fucking years of desperate denial. It would be humiliating to lose his control now, but it was very rapidly slipping away.

It might have been easier to scramble from the edge if Jamie had pulled back, but he kept most of Roy’s length buried in the wet heat of his mouth, his cheeks hollowing to increase the pressure, his clever tongue sliding against his shaft the way it had moved against his tongue before. In a way, it simply felt like a continuation of their kisses, Jamie’s mouth so fucking hot and perfect, taking Roy apart with dazzling thoroughness. He started to rock, pushing deeper into Jamie’s mouth and Jamie took him without hesitation, letting him bump against the spongey heat at the back of his throat.

“Jamie…Jamie!”

Roy’s muscles clenched so tight he thought they might spasm into a cramp, and then the last of his control snapped and he came with a shout, all the tension draining from him as his cock pulsed and jerked against Jamie’s tongue. Jamie wrapped an anchoring arm around his hips and held him in place, easing his lips up Roy’s shaft, licking away the strings of come and spit that clung to his skin. Roy watched him, wide-eyed and marveling, waiting for guilt to crash through him, but he didn’t feel guilty. Or regretful. He felt happy.

Really happy. The sort of happiness that immediately invoked fear because he was going to fuck it up. He was absolutely, for sure going to fuck this up. It didn’t matter if he had the best fucking intentions, it didn’t matter how desperately he wanted to make it work, how willing he was to do whatever it took to hold on. He would still find a way to fuck it up. Roy didn’t want to give into that sense of doom, so he took Jamie by the shoulders and pulled him to his feet, and Jamie leaned into the kiss like it was everything he wanted. Maybe it was. How long had he been waiting for Roy? But he hadn’t been waiting, because he didn’t even believe Roy could want him. And why should he after the way Roy acted? Christ, he felt like a fucking asshole.

Roy held Jamie’s head between his palms and gently pulled away from his mouth so he could press small kisses on his cheeks and his nose and his eyebrows and the cleft of his chin and the spots where his smile folded into dimples.

“Jamie…you need to eat your dinner.”

“What? I’m not hungry. Didn’t have my workout tonight, did I?”

“If you eat, I’ll take you upstairs and give you a workout.”

“Oh. Alright, yeah. Good.” And then he smiled, and Roy couldn’t step away without kissing that smile first, his tongue eagerly sliding into Roy’s mouth, both of them forgetting about the deal they just struck until Roy needed to breathe again.

“Go…go sit down.” Roy said, forcing his legs to work.

He forgot his pants were down around his knees and would have fallen, but Jamie caught him, lips quirking with amusement as he grasped the waistband and pulled it back up to Roy’s hips. “There you are, Coach,” he said with a cheeky grin and a pat to Roy’s ass.

Roy moved on autopilot, his attention going back to Jamie again and again. Part of him thought Jamie had a point. It was true they never got around to his evening workout. Would it really be so awful if he put all of this in the fridge and they delayed dinner until later? Except it might be much, much later, and Roy didn’t want to risk that. So he made up two plates of chicken and veg like it was any other night, and he wasn’t absolutely reeling from the one-two punch of Keeley’s anger and Jamie’s mouth.

Jamie had set the table, like he always did, and he was fidgeting with his silverware, picking up the pieces and rolling them between his fingers before dropping them again. He looked up as Roy approached, lips pursed and Roy thought it would be really, really nice to kiss him again.

“Here,” Roy said gruffly, dropping the plate onto the table.

“Thanks.”

Roy settled in the chair next to him, like he always did, and he was hyperaware of how close they were. He had absolutely no interest in his own food, he just wanted to lean in the few inches that were still between them and kiss that spot on Jamie’s neck just below his ear. And his ear. And his jaw and chin, which would lead Roy back to his mouth. His mouth that was now shiny from the chicken.

“Roy?”

“Hmm.”

Jamie pointed at Roy’s nearly untouched plate with his fork. “How come you’re not eating?”

“Don’t worry about it, just finish your dinner.”

“I can’t concentrate while you’re staring at me.”

“That’s not true.”

“Can’t really concentrate when you’re staring at me like that, can I?”

Roy raised his eyebrows. “Like what?”

Jamie shifted in his chair. “Roy, seriously.”

Roy pushed back from the table. ‘Come here.”

“Where?”

Roy pointed at his lap.

“What? How is that going to help?”

“You won’t be able to see me looking at you.”

Roy patted his lap and Jamie looked skeptical, but he didn’t put up any further protest. The chair was a good, heavy oak and it didn’t even creak as it took on Jamie’s additional weight. Roy rolled his eyes up to the ceiling and swallowed down a moan as Jamie shifted.

“This alright?”

“Yeah, good,” Roy managed, simultaneously congratulating and cursing himself for this fucking idea. His arm slid around Jamie’s waist and he buried his face in the side of his neck, kissing the spot that had been clamoring for his attention before.

“That’s not helping,” Jamie muttered.

Roy reached for Jamie’s plate, snagging a piece of chicken with his fingers and bringing it up to Jamie’s lips. “Eat.”

Jamie closed his lips around it, pulling the meat from Roy and obediently chewing. Roy kissed along the back of his neck while he finished that and took another bite, nosing along the edge of his hairline. He dragged his hand over Jamie’s flat stomach and down the front of his pants, resting his palm on the prominent bulge and Jamie moaned at the light pressure.

“Roy–”

“Take another bite.”

Jamie did, and Roy started to rub him through his trousers, pressing the heel of his hand down the line of his cock and then back up again. Jamie whimpered softly, the sound going directly to Roy’s dick. He mouthed along the top of Jamie’s shoulders, biting gently through his shirt before working his way back to his neck. He knew Jamie’s body in so many ways, but now he was aching to learn every single detail, all of his sensitive spots, the beauty marks and freckles, all the ways he could whimper and moan. He wanted to know absolutely every single thing about Jamie Tartt.

“Roy…coach…please.”

Roy looked over his shoulder. “You’re not done.”

“I know, I know. But I can’t eat like this.”

“You can.” Roy fed him another piece of chicken, keeping his fingers near Jamie’s lips so he could lick away the grease after he finished chewing. “See? You’re doing great.”

“Roy…my knob…”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“It hurts!”

Roy smiled against the back of his neck. “Then you better hurry and finish.”

“You’re evil.”

“Just doing my job.”

“Your job is to drive me knob crazy?”

“No.” He scraped his teeth over the top of Jamie’s ear. “It’s taking proper care of you.”

Jamie had been shifting his weight and moving against Roy’s palm, but he stilled. “I’ll finish my dinner.”

“Good boy.”

Jamie ate without further complaint, barely pausing between bites. Roy kept an eye on his progress, but was mostly focused on kissing every bit of skin he could reach that wasn’t covered by Jamie’s shirt. As soon as he swallowed the last bite, he dropped his head back to Roy’s shoulder, looking up at him with a silent plea. Roy held him by the chin, angling his mouth for a kiss. Jamie gasped against his lips, as responsive and eager as before. Roy’s legs were starting to fall asleep, but it was a small sacrifice to make. How could he complain about that when Jamie’s body was warm and firm and Roy was touching and kissing him without a second thought?

“Go upstairs, pretty boy.” Roy kissed him again briefly.

“Come with me.”

“I gotta tidy up.”

“Leave it.”

Roy smiled. “Yeah, alright. Come on.”

Jamie jumped to his feet and was half way up the stairs by the time Roy followed suit. It took a few steps for the blood to start flowing in his legs again, and Jamie paused at the landing, looking down at Roy with a happy smile.

“You alright?” He called down.

“Fine,” Roy growled. “If you don’t want to do up-downs, you better be naked by the time I get up there.”

Jamie’s eyes widened and he immediately stripped his shirt off. Fuck, he looked delicious. Flawless skin, broad shoulders and lean chest tapering down to his grabbable waist. Roy had seen him without his shirt many, many times. Had even felt his naked skin a handful of times, but now he didn’t have to mask his thoughts or his desires. He took the stairs two at a time–and that was wild because just six months ago he had been sleeping in the downstairs guest room and pretending that was because he liked it better down there and not because his knee wouldn’t let him reach the second floor.

Jamie’s trousers were a few feet from his shirt, and his pants just outside the bedroom door, and Roy felt an unexpected wave of relief as he realized he wasn’t going to have to send Jamie to a different room again. Jamie was standing at the foot of the bed, completely naked and totally gorgeous, stroking his cock and smiling.

“Lay down,” Roy said, nodding at the bed.

Jamie’s smile widened and he crawled onto the bed, giving Roy an excellent view of his perfect ass before flopping onto his back, sprawled out across the center of the mattress. The sight of him like that was overwhelming and for a moment Roy couldn’t even move, he could only stare. Jamie was completely unabashed, not a hint of shyness or discomfort. But why should he be shy? He was fucking perfect. A fucking vision. It was wild that Keeley thought he shouldn’t be interested. Like he already said to Jamie, he wasn’t fucking blind, and he definitely wasn’t dead.

“Gonna join me, Coach?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Roy said, stripping his clothes as he approached the bed.

Jamie’s hand went back to his cock as he stared at Roy, and Roy lightly hit his fingers away with a soft growl. “Stop that.”

“Can’t help it–fuck!” Jamie’s voice broke when Roy grasped his shaft, stroking him with a firm grip, spreading the pre-come that covered the tip. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck…fuck that feels good. That feels so, so good. Fucking Christ, Roy.”

“I haven’t even done anything yet.”

“You’re touching…you’re fucking touching me…” Jamie jerked his hips. “Been dying to feel ya. God!”

“I’ll do more than touch you, pretty boy.”

“What…what more?”

Anything. Roy would do anything Jamie wanted. Instead of answering with words, Roy wrapped his lips around the flushed crown of Jamie’s cock and sucked, licking away the salty liquid that pulsed against his tongue. Jamie yelped, hips rocking and Roy released him with a smack of his lips.

“Hold still,” Roy ordered.

Jamie swallowed hard and nodded, fingers curled into the sheets. Roy didn’t want to break contact, but he needed to get a condom and lube from the nightstand. Jamie watched him without moving, eyes flicking as Roy pulled the drawer open, and widening as he saw what Roy had in his hand. They just about bulged out of his head when Roy tore the condom open and unrolled it down Jamie’s length.

“What–are you? Are we…?”

“Promised you a workout, didn’t I?”

Roy drizzled the lube over the top of Jamie’s cock, stroking him to spread it from top to bottom before straddling him. Jamie immediately grabbed him by the arms and hauled him down into a messy kiss. It felt like a first kiss, as in Jamie’s very first kiss ever, and he had no idea what he was doing except he wanted to get his tongue shoved as deep into Roy’s mouth as possible. It was all enthusiasm and need, and Roy completely surrendered to it. Jamie rolled him onto his back without breaking the kiss, pinning him against the mattress and Roy’s whole body lit up with pleasure.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” Jamie asked against his lips.

“Yes.”

Jamie lifted his head and smiled his toothy-smile–the one that Roy thought of as his fucking prick smile except now the words came to him with an indefinite amount of fondness. “Gonna make it good for you, swear down.”

Roy never doubted it. Jamie pushed himself upright to his knees and looked around the bed until he found the bottle of lube Roy discarded. All of his angles were good, but this one was Roy’s new favorite, looking up the length of his body, his cock jutting up against his abs, framed by the deep grooves in his hips, supported by thighs as thick as tree trunks, the only thing soft about him was the luscious curve of his ass. Roy couldn’t resist grabbing a handful of ass cheek, giving it an appreciative squeeze while Jamie fumbled with the lube.

“Here,” Jamie said, swinging one of his massive legs over Roy’s chest, and then Roy couldn't see anything except his big, round ass. It completely blocked his view, so he didn’t know what Jamie was planning until he felt the velvet-soft tip of his tongue circling Roy’s hole. Roy moaned at the contact, spreading his legs wider while he grasped Jamie with both hands, squeezing and kneading both cheeks.

Jamie cradled Roy’s balls in one hand, pulling them out of his way so he could deepen his exploration, mouth messy and hot, tongue sliding inside of him. Roy shivered, chills racing up and down his spine, the hair on his arms standing on end. He slid his hands to Jamie’s hips and pulled him back, so he could reach Jamie with his mouth. He licked over the pucker and felt Jamie’s answering moan vibrating through his skin. He wiggled his tongue inside, fucking in and out until his skin was good and wet then replacing his tongue with his finger. He was primarily curious how Jamie would respond–if he didn’t like it, Roy would rather know now than later.

“Fuck! Oh fuck me…fucking…god.” The heat of Jamie’s mouth disappeared and he started to rock against Roy’s finger, panting and swearing every time Roy massaged his prostate, his cock twitching against Roy’s stomach. “Stop…I’m gonna come…fucking hell.”

“You can come if you want,” Roy said, slowly pulling free of Jamie’s tightly clenched body.

“Not yet,” he panted. “Want to feel you first.”

Roy slapped his ass. “So fuck me already.”

Jamie was a little clumsy and slow as he resituated himself, moving like he didn’t have the full command of his body that he usually had. He was red everywhere, flushed with adrenaline and arousal, shiny with sweat, hair hanging in his eyes. He got between Roy’s legs and pulled them up around his hips, pausing to pull at the condom and add a bit more lube, blinking the sweat out of his eyes. Roy drank in the sight of him, committing every tiny detail to memory so he could relive it any time he wanted. Jamie held onto himself at the base, angling towards Roy’s waiting body, and when he felt the first nudge of Jamie’s cock he flexed his legs and pushed him down onto Jamie’s shaft, taking him all in one, hard stroke. Jamie fell forward, burying his face against Roy’s neck as his hips stuttered, his breath hot and ragged.

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I don’t know…that hasn’t happened to me before.”

Roy tightened his arms and legs around Jamie, holding him in place. “It’s alright.”

“It was two seconds. That’s not alright. Fuck.”

Roy buried his nose in Jamie’s hair and inhaled. God he smelled delicious when he was sweating. “You’re good, Jamie. I promise.” He dragged his lips over his damp temple. “Don’t move. Stay inside me.”

“Roy–” Jamie lifted his head just enough to find Roy’s mouth, and Roy happily welcomed the kiss. He wasn’t disappointed in the least. Jamie was still thick inside of him, and Roy’s most urgent need was to be as close to Jamie as possible–now nothing could get between them, not even light.

#

Breaking up with Keeley was a lot easier the second time around. Perhaps because they had never been completely unbroken this time. Or maybe it was because Roy didn’t have to second-guess himself so much or feel the judgement of all of their mutual friends and acquaintances, who was basically Roy’s entire social circle. None of them even knew there was a second attempt. Except Rebecca, who seemed to be going out of her way not to speak to him at all. At least he didn’t have to hear it from Ted, and Beard, and Higgins, and Phoebe, and the whole rest of the fucking world. Or maybe it was simply because now there was nothing holding him back from turning all his energy towards Jamie Tartt. And Jamie was happy to have it.

Jamie was a little withdrawn in the week leading up to the City match. Roy kept his mind off Manchester as much as he could, working him hard during training and then taking him apart at home. Roy loved fucking Jamie Tartt. He was so responsive and eager, Roy was learning new things about his perfect body every single day, storing away those fascinating new details so he could use them to maximum advantage later. He even pulled Jamie into the boot room a few times, shoving his tongue down Jamie’s throat and his hand down his pants so Jamie could go off like a shot. It was brilliant. Especially since he could make Jamie come several times a day–sometimes even twice or three times in the same hour when Roy really put his back into it.

The journey up to Manchester was a bit of a test. Jamie was quiet, lost in his own thoughts, and Roy couldn’t even do anything about it because somebody would definitely notice if he tried one of his sure-fire distraction methods. Keeley and Rebecca were riding with the team, and he could hear them talking but he couldn’t quite catch what they were saying, but he was pretty sure they were talking about him. He tried to distract himself by talking about the actual match, but Ted wasn’t listening to a word he said–Roy thought it might have something to do with that strange woman he saw around Nelson Road but he wasn’t about to ask for details–and Beard was absolutely glued to his phone. So for four solid hours, he had nothing to do but study Jamie from the corner of his eye and imagine what he would like to do to Jamie as soon as they had five minutes alone together.

Roy was in charge of passing out keys and room assignments once they reached the hotel. He saved Jamie’s for last. Despite the tension in his shoulders, he was looking really fucking fit. He smiled as Roy held out his key, his eyes crinkling in the corners.

“Thanks, Coach.”

“I’ll come get you for the movie. You alright?”

Jamie nodded. “Yeah, good.”

“Go on, then. I’ll be up in a minute.” Roy would have gone with him, but then they might not even leave the room and would miss out on team movie night, which would definitely attract questions that Roy didn’t want to deal with. The restrictions and requirements of away matches hadn’t been too irritating throughout the season, but now they were a fucking headache and Roy was actually looking forward to the end of the season so he could go on holiday with Jamie and never leave the bedroom.

Taking Jamie away on holiday was a fantasy that Roy was indulging in more and more. He’d learned his lesson before and he definitely wasn’t going to make all the plans–and fucking nonrefundable deposits–without talking to Jamie first, but he was making a list in the back of his mind of possible locations. Roy didn’t care where they ended up. Hell, Roy didn’t even care if they never got around to leaving his house, if that was what Jamie wanted. But he hoped Jamie did want to travel somewhere. He deserved a holiday.

But first they had to get past City.

Roy was fairly certain that fucking asshole shithead hadn’t contacted Jamie. Not that he checked Jamie’s phone, but Jamie would have mentioned it if he heard from his sperm donor. The fact that he hadn’t been hounding Jamie for tickets and money and whatever the fuck else he thought he was entitled to was somehow worse than if he had started sending his shitty texts. It was the variation from his standard MO that put Jamie on edge, and there wasn’t anything Roy could really do about that, and it was fucking annoying.

Roy’s suite was pretty nice, but he barely noticed any of the lux details. All he wanted to do was freshen up, change his shirt so he didn’t smell like he was just stuck on a bus full of men for four hours, and get back to Jamie with some to spare before anybody expected to see them at movie night. He was halfway through that process, with his shirt off and his mouth full of toothpaste, when he heard the knock on the door.

“Wait a sec!” Roy shouted, quickly rinsing his out and wiping his face. He didn’t bother finding his shirt because why waste time with an extra step when it was probably Jamie at the door. “Somebody’s a little impatient. Couldn’t wait for–oh, hi Keeley.”

“Hi. Are you busy?”

“Getting ready to go downstairs.”

“I was wondering if we could talk?”

Roy didn’t have anything he wanted to talk to Keeley about, but he stepped back and gestured for her to come in.

“This is a nice room,” she said, looking around. “I’m sharing Rebecca’s suite.”

“What’s happening?”

“Right, okay. I just wanted to…apologize. Things got a bit out of control, and I’m sorry for my part in that.”

“Okay.”

“Don’t you have something you want to say to me?”

“No.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? You don’t want to apologize to me?”

“Apologize for what? Did I say something to offend you?”

“Look, I came here so we could talk everything over like adults and work this out. I apologized to you, now you apologize to me.”

“I wasn’t asking you for an apology.”

“You know what? Fine. Because I’m not sorry anyway. You are acting insane, Roy.”

“Well, so much for talking it over like adults. This has been fun, but I’ve got things to do.”

“Wait, no. I’m sorry for saying you’re acting insane. But you have to admit, this whole thing with Jamie Tartt practically living in your house is a bit…crazy.”

Roy wiped his hand over his face and sighed. “It’s none of your business. But, for the record, I like having Jamie in my house. In fact, I love it.”

“That’s what I don’t understand. Why do you love it? What are you getting out of this?”

“I already told you. He needs me.” And it felt like Roy needed him more every single day.

“And you think I don’t?”

“I know you don’t, Keeley. And maybe that makes me the fucking asshole because I don’t want to be optional.”

“I don’t think you’re optional,” Keeley protested. “We can compromise, can’t we? Look, I know that this…whatever this is with Jamie is important for his performance. I can’t argue with the results, but the season is almost over. So maybe after the season is over, Jamie can move back into his house and you and I can have some time to…reconnect.”

“Reconnect? What does that mean? Are you ready for a relationship now?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“You think so?” Roy shook his head. “That’s not good enough.”

“Why isn’t it good enough that I’m ready to try?”

“Because I don’t think you are ready. What’s changed between now and one month ago?”

“I could ask you the same thing. You said you wanted to try a month ago, and now it’s like you don’t even want to talk it over.”

“Yeah, I did want to try. I missed you, Keeley. But the first thing you said to me was that you didn’t want to be in a relationship, and then I spend a month doing exactly what I thought you wanted only to find out it wasn’t good enough. I went to you every time you called, I invited you into my home, I never treated you like you weren’t a priority. But it wasn’t enough and you never even fucking said a word about it.”

“I know, I know you’re right. I should have mentioned Jamie sooner. But I think there’s still something here worth fighting for. You still love me, right?”

“Of course, I still love you, Keeley. I never…it was never about falling out of love, alright? You are Keeley fucking Jones and you’re amazing, but we don’t want the same thing.”

“But we do,” Keeley said quickly. “If we both want to be together. Forget about everything else. Isn’t that the most important thing?”

“Forget about everything else? So you want me to just forget about Jamie? Like he doesn’t mean anything to me?”

“I know he’s important, alright? I heard you before. But does he really mean more to you than I do?”

It was hard to say anything but what Keeley wanted to hear when she looked at him like that, her eyes wide and imploring, a little wet as though the tears were already forming. The distance between them had closed as they talked, and now it would be quite easy to pull her into his arms and fall right back into the same pattern they both knew so well. Maybe this time it would work. Maybe she really did miss him. Maybe if he put in the effort and she put in the effort and they were both very clear about the goal, they could reach it together. He knew exactly how good it could be with her, and how good they were together. Until things weren’t good anymore.

It was a gamble. And the stakes were too high. Maybe Jamie wasn’t the answer to all his future happiness, but he currently made Roy very happy.

“I told you. I love him.” Roy took a step toward the door. “You know what? I do apologize. I’m very sorry for making another mess. I fucked up. This is all my fault.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“I’m not.”

“It’s Jamie Tartt!”

“Yeah, it’s Jamie Tartt. Don’t you have any regard for him at all? I know he acted like a prick, but that’s not who he is. He’s good, Keeley. He’s good, and he’s sweet, and he’s loyal and fucking talented and patient and dedicated. I understand him and he understands me.”

“Are you saying I don’t understand you?”

“I don’t think we understand each other, Keeley. I can’t do what you want me to do, I am sorry for making a fucking mess, but I can’t sacrifice him to prove my feelings for you.” Roy’s phone pinged, and he glanced down to see a message from Ted, letting him know the movie was about to start. Which meant is one very small window to even see Jamie tonight was fucking closed. “I gotta go.”

“Is that Jamie?”

“No, it’s Ted.” Roy grabbed the nearest shirt and pulled it over his head. “You know, the American with the mustache who is the fucking gaffer and expects me to be at fucking team movie night because we’re here for a fucking job. Now if you’ll fucking excuse me.”

Keeley followed him out of the room and to the lift. Not only did he not get to see Jamie, he wouldn’t even be able to sit with Jamie because when he wasn’t there to shoulder people out of the way, everybody wanted to sit with Jamie. Which was good, but still very annoying to Roy. Keeley followed him onto the lift, and they stood at opposite sides of the tiny car, and Roy suddenly felt like he was suffocating in her perfume, and a dull pain started to throb behind his eyes.

When they reached the meeting room that would serve as their movie theater, he immediately saw that he was right about not getting close to Jamie. He was sitting in the center of the front row between Isaac and Sam. Roy nodded at Ted and slid into a seat on the back row. Keeley chose the seat beside him. He did his best to ignore her, staring at the back of Jamie’s head and feeling the passage of each second. This fucking movie was interminable. Why couldn’t they at least watch Sleepless in Seattle? Ted was right, it was the superior Nora Ephron movie.

Finally, the credits rolled, the lights came up, and everybody started to move. Ted reminded everybody of curfew, but that was a little over an hour away, and maybe all wasn’t lost. Maybe he could grab Jamie and take him up to his suite. But Roy didn’t even have a chance to stand up before Jamie was pulling up his hood and marching out the door. Roy hurried to grab his jacket, but Keeley put a hand on his arm to stop him.

“Wait. Please.”

“I’ve got to go.” Roy pulled away from her, and by the time he reached the lobby, Jamie was disappearing through the glass doors in the front. “Where the fuck is he going?”

Roy made up his mind in an instant, pulling his jacket on and following Jamie out the door. Wherever he was going, Roy wanted to be with him.

The last time Roy had chased Jamie through a strange city in the dark, Jamie had been cheerfully shouting stupid facts over his shoulder, doing fucking flips, and running backwards when he wanted to make sure Roy was still following him. It had been fucking annoying and fucking endearing. Now Jamie wasn’t running, he was walking with his hands in his pockets and his head down, never varying his pace. Roy didn’t give a fuck about Manchester, but he would have loved to hear some facts and useless trivia about the city where Jamie grew up. Once they left the brightly lit area full of posh hotels, Roy quickened his pace to catch up with him.

“Why are you following me?” Jamie asked as a greeting.

“I wanted to see you. Where are you going?”

“Nowhere.”

“You mind if I walk with you then?”

Jamie just shrugged. Roy wasn’t sure what to make of his mood. Maybe he was cross because Roy hadn’t come around like he said he would, or maybe he got the text he’d been waiting for and dreading, or maybe there was something else about being in Manchester that upset him. For the first time in weeks, if not months, Roy was at a complete loss. He couldn’t even reach for Jamie’s hand, and it felt like fucking days since he touched Jamie, even though he had kept Jamie in bed that morning instead of taking him out for a run.

He didn’t see Jamie’s smile until a door in the estate was opened with a cheerful, “Jamie!”

“Hi, Simon.”

“Come in, come in.” Simon stepped back, making room for Jamie and then looking Roy up and down with a friendly smile.

Roy grunted his greeting and followed Jamie inside into a warm home that smelled like a bakery. Roy couldn’t say what exactly was baking, but it made his mouth water as he inhaled. Jamie made a move toward the back room, until a woman appeared on the stairs and shouted, “Jamie! Baby!”

Jamie immediately turned around and caught up the woman in his arms, his smile wider than ever.

“Mummy, this is Roy.”

“Hey you.”

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. I’d hug you only I’m not letting go of this one!”

“Oh, there they go,” Simon said fondly as Jamie carried his mother into the next room. “Are you hungry? Step into my laboratory.”

Roy would have rather followed Jamie, but he was a little peckish. And his head was spinning. Jamie rarely mentioned his mum, and Roy never gave it much thought. It hadn’t even occurred to him that Jamie might want to visit his mum while he was in town. Simon gestured him into the kitchen, where the scent of baking was even stronger. The kitchen was small and seemed cluttered at first sight, but after a moment Roy realized there was a certain order to the chaos, and Simon was excited to show off his laboratory.

“They’ll be a few minutes. Hope you like a sweet treat. It’s a Paul Hollywood recipe but I’ve made a few of my own little changes.”

“Thanks.” Roy took a bite of the biscuit and nodded. “Mmm, it’s…really delicious.”

“It’s always such a great surprise when Jamie comes around. Georgie couldn’t be prouder of him, you know. Tea?”

Roy swallowed a mouthful of sweet treat. “Yeah, thanks.”

Simon plugged the kettle in before arranging plates and biscuits on a tray. Roy kept looking at the door, longing to find Jamie, and when he finally followed Simon into the sitting room, he saw Jamie cuddled up with his mum on the couch. Roy swallowed down a pang of jealousy–he wanted to be cuddled up with Jamie. In fact, that had been all he wanted to do all day. Georgie looked up and smiled at Simon as they entered the room, but Jamie was staring at the random shapes he was tracing on Georgie’s knee.

“Thanks, luv. Why don’t you give Roy the tour?”

“Well, he’s already seen the kitchen! Come on, I’ll show you the rest.”

Roy looked over to Jamie again, who still wasn’t looking at him, and felt like he had no choice but to follow Simon out of the room. The house was small but tidy, the warm, bakery smell filling every room and upstairs as well.

“And here we are, Jamie’s room!” SImon announced, ushering Roy into the door at the end of the corridor.

Roy stepped inside, taking in the trophies, the football decor, the surprising number of hedgehogs on the shelves. The room was as tidy as the rest of the house, a perfect monument to the clever, talented boy who fought his way up the ranks and out of the estate. He turned around and was met with the image of his own face.

“Whoa.” He remembered Jamie mentioning a poster once before, but it never occurred to him that he might still have that poster.

“Ah, yes. There have been many other posters coming and going over the years, but Roy Kent always remains.” An alarm chimed and Simon’s eyes lit up. “Excuse me, I’ve got to get the oven.”

Roy sat on the edge of the bed, trying not to look at himself, but his attention kept slipping back. He looked fucking ridiculous. His hair was too long and it was one of those posed photographs he fucking hated and there was a tiny signature, small enough that Roy knew it was authentic. When did they meet? It was pointless to think about, Roy would never, ever remember, but he tried anyway. He tried to think about their first meeting at Richmond, too, but that wasn’t a good memory. Not because Jamie had been a prick. No, Jamie was worse than some prick. Jamie Tartt was young, and gorgeous, and talented, and even though Roy Kent was on the team, none of the fucking pundits had even fucking mentioned it because they were all chattering about Jamie Tartt being on loan from City. Roy had been bitter, resentful, a real fucking asshole to this kid who had so much fucking raw talent that it made Roy sick to his stomach.

“Hey.” Jamie pushed the door open. “You get lost in here?”

“Just admiring the wall art.” Roy patted the mattress next to him.

“It’s almost curfew.”

“I won’t tell if you won’t.”

Jamie closed the door and sat on the bed, but not quite close enough to touch.

“You alright?” Roy asked.

“Yeah. It’s good to see Mummy, you know.”

“How come you didn’t tell me you wanted to visit?”

Jamie shrugged. “Didn’t really decide until tonight.”

“Sorry I missed you earlier,” Roy said, sliding his arm around Jamie’s shoulders. He pulled Jamie closer and felt sharp relief when Jamie didn’t resist, just dropped his head to Roy’s shoulder. Roy nosed into his hair and took a deep breath.

“S’okay.”

“Not really.” Roy wrapped his other arm around Jamie’s chest. “Your mum coming to the match? I’m sure Rebecca will be happy to have her up in the box, looking down on all us commoners.”

“Nah, she likes to watch from home.” Jamie lifted his head. “I saw you were late to the movie. With Keeley.”

“Yeah, she wanted to talk.”

“About what?”

“Nothing new. Just a rehash of the last fight,” Roy murmured before leaning in to kiss Jamie’s full lips. He tasted sweet, like Roy wasn’t the only one who accepted a biscuit from Simon, and Roy forgot he was sitting in the middle of Jamie’s childhood bedroom. He just wanted to sink his tongue into Jamie’s mouth and haul Jamie into his lap. “Come back to my place.”

“What about curfew?”

“It’s alright if you’re with me.” Roy punctuated that reminder with another kiss. Nobody was going to get on Jamie’s case, and if somebody did say something, Roy would tell them to shut the fuck up. “I won’t keep you up too late. I’ll even let you sleep a bit later.”

Jamie tilted his head like he was considering the offer. “How much later?”

“Seven.”

“Sick. Alright, deal.”

“Let’s get out of here.” Before Roy did something inappropriate on the bed that was shorter than they were tall. He helped Jamie to his feet and debated if he should call a cab or not. The walk wasn’t far and the night was beautiful, but he was quickly running out of patience. Still, by the time the car arrived and factoring in downtown traffic, it probably wouldn’t be much of a time saver.

“Roy. What did you tell Keeley?”

“Same thing I told her before. You’re not going anywhere.” He could only hope that would be the end of it.

They took their time returning to the hotel, meandering through the Manchester streets back to the hotel, Roy’s arm possessively wrapped around Jamie’s shoulder. They reached the lobby after curfew, so there was nobody to see that Roy still had his arm around Jamie’s shoulder as they entered the lift. By the time they got to Roy’s suite, all he wanted to do was get Jamie out of his clothes and devour him, but there was a strain in his eyes that made Roy think getting devoured wasn’t actually what Jamie needed at that moment.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Roy asked.

“Actually, no.”

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Don’t have my toothbrush, do I?”

“Oh. Yeah you do. Here.” Roy opened his duffle and pulled out Jamie’s toiletry bag. “I moved it over to mine before we left.”

Jamie’s smile was small but it reached his eyes. “Didn’t even occur to you that I’d be sleeping in my own room?”

“Of course not.” Roy even had Jamie’s favorite sleep shirt. He threw it at Jamie’s head and added, “Go get ready for bed.”

“Yes, Coach.”

Roy took off his shoes and stripped down to his pants, then turned the bed down. Jamie stepped out of the toilet in his nightshirt, naked from the waist down and Roy knew he was staring like a starving man stares at a roast, but he couldn’t help it. Now that he knew fucking Jamie Tartt was better than he ever imagined it could be, his desire was the world’s number one renewable resource. It never stopped, never faded, was never satisfied. His ability to look at Jamie’s body objectively, as though he was just another athlete, was shattered forever.

But when they got into bed, Roy didn’t give into his base urges. Instead, he did something he hadn’t done in quite a few nights–gathered Jamie up in his arms and pulled him to his chest, taking deep breaths until the rise and fall of Jamie’s chest matched his. Roy thought back to all the nights he thought he’d been doing this for Jamie’s sake, and the nights he didn’t do it at all because he was with Keeley instead, and he realized that it had never been just for Jamie. He needed this, maybe more than Jamie did, maybe more than anything else they did together.

Roy knew exactly what he gave up to have this, and he didn’t feel any regrets. Jamie was solid and warm in his arms, holding Roy as tightly as Roy held him, and Roy felt quiet inside. Calm and confident at the same time. There was no second-guessing himself, no fear that he was letting himself or Jamie down, only a peaceful contentment.

Chapter Text

It was probably a good thing Roy didn’t start fucking him until so late in the season, because their early morning training sessions had all but stopped being about training. Unless Roy holding Jamie down, calling him his pretty boy and jerking him off but refusing to let him come counted as training, and Jamie didn’t think it did—although holding back until Roy gave him permission was easily the hardest thing he’d done all season. They usually started with the best of intentions, but it really didn’t take much of anything to distract them. Jamie licked his lips once after he paused to take a drink of water, and Roy literally pounced on him. And once Roy pounced, that was it.

On that Sunday morning, they had the day off from training, but they were both still awake by four. Roy had Jamie stretched out on the couch, hands secured above his head with his coiled T-shirt, legs akimbo, with Roy’s head between his thighs. He’d been going down on Jamie for most of an hour, except not in a normal, reasonable way. Oh no, today he wasn’t putting Jamie’s dick in his mouth, just happily licking, sucking, biting on everything else. His balls, his inner thighs, his taint, his ass, hands on his hips, holding him down, absolutely fucking relentless. Jamie twisted and strained, could have easily broken free of the binding around his wrists, but Roy told him not to do that, and that was real dirty play because they both knew Jamie wouldn’t disobey a direct order from him.

Roy shifted his tactic, his hot mouth suddenly wrapping around the very tip of Jamie’s cock. Jamie jerked, naturally seeking more of that heat, but Roy put an arm across his hips, holding him down. He didn’t even need to use his strength to do the job—like with the shirt around his wrist, it didn’t matter how effective the bindings were themselves. What kept Jamie in line was Roy’s will, nothing else. Jamie forced himself to remain still, even though his cock was throbbing.

Roy licked around the crown, teasing his slit, tonguing him slowly, like he was leisurely enjoying an ice cream cone. Pleasure sloshed through him, down to his feet, back up to his head, rolling over and under his spine. The pressure building low in his stomach was familiar, and he was learning how to control it, that he didn’t just have to immediately give into it, but he could let it build and build and build. He could let Roy take him far beyond anything he experienced before with a little patience and a little discipline—so maybe it was exactly like training.

He didn’t even need to feel Roy’s mouth to come. Roy could trigger an orgasm just by speaking. It hardly took any effort for Roy to get him all wound up, twisted into tight knots, and then coming all over himself—he barely even needed to touch Jamie. Which was embarrassing and amazing all at once. It wasn’t easy to know his desire and need for Roy were always so close to the surface and he didn’t have a similar impact on Roy. That fact always made Jamie uneasy, reminding him of how vulnerable he was to be the person who needed. Roy could say two words to him right now, and Jamie would be completely undone and exposed. But if there were two words that did the same trick to Roy, Jamie didn’t know what they were. Maybe Keeley did.

Roy was the sexiest person he’d ever been with, and not just physically. He knew what to do. Knew how to use his hips and his mouth, knew what to say and when to say it, thought up the most wonderful things. Jamie was more of an instinct guy—maybe he didn’t have the skill, but he had the dedication, the willingness to learn. He just wished he could do for Roy what Roy did for him. How much longer would it be before Roy grew bored of him? Relationships that were purely physical never lasted very long in Jamie’s experience. Hell, he wasn’t even sure they were in a relationship. He wasn’t sure that Roy didn’t still see Keeley at times. He didn’t have the courage to ask in case he really didn’t want to hear the answer.

Normally, he didn’t like to dwell on the inevitable prospect of his own emotional devastation, but it kept the pressure at bay, kept him from erupting into Roy’s mouth too soon. He thought about bringing it up, almost found the nerve to ask Roy a few times, but ultimately couldn’t get the words out. Besides not wanting the answer, Jamie was worried the question itself would upset whatever agreement had been struck. Just because Jamie knew it was inevitable didn’t mean he wanted it to happen now or anytime soon. He’d deal with it when it came to him, he wasn’t going to look for it.

Roy was now sliding his mouth up and down his shaft, slow and teasing and so fucking hot. He cupped Jamie’s balls, applying gentle pressure—the gentle pressure that always drove Jamie out of his mind because it was so close to pain, but never, ever hurt because Roy just knew what the fuck to do. Just a complete perfect knowledge of Jamie’s body. He acted like he always had it. Like he’d just been biding his time since day one, content that sooner or later he was going to use that knowledge to drive Jamie crazy in all the best ways.

Jamie sure as fuck couldn’t do that to him. He had a perfect knowledge of nothing. It seemed like if he ever made Roy feel good, it was either completely by accident, or because he simply did as he was told, and Roy took what he needed from him. It wasn’t like he had a wealth of experience to draw on. He had eyes, he knew when lads were fit, but he could use one hand to count the number of times he’d actually fucked one, and it was always quick and dirty and done. Not in somebody’s bed. Not with actual emotion attached. Jamie had so much fucking emotion attached to Roy, and it was so fucking scary.

“Roy, please, please please.”

“What is it, sweetheart?” Roy sounded mildly curious, like he had no idea what Jamie was begging for.

“I can’t take it anymore.”

“You can’t? Not even one more minute?” Roy dragged his tongue over his slit. “If you can wait one more minute, I’ll let you fuck me. If you want.”

Of course Jamie wanted to fuck Roy. Just the thought of it nearly had him stuck to the ceiling. “Yeah, I want.”

“So you can last one more minute?”

“Yes, yes,” Jamie panted, not even sure he could make it ten more seconds. But he would do what he always did–his absolute fucking best.

“Good lad.”

Jamie had to close his eyes. He couldn’t keep himself under control and look at Roy Kent teasing his knob at the same time. His eyes got so dark they looked black when he was really turned on, and his hair was a mess, his lips shiny from spit and pre-come. Plus he wasn’t wearing a shirt, so Jamie could see how fucking fit he was, with his thick shoulders and the muscles flexing in his arms. With his eyes closed, he couldn’t check the clock on the wall, so he had no idea how much longer Roy tortured him. If it was really just a minute. It might have been sixty seconds or another hour.

“Knew you could do it,” Roy said, and it was the warmth in his voice more than anything that forced Jamie’s eyes open. He sounded genuinely proud. “Now you’ve earned your treat.”

Jamie had been so dazzled by the idea of fucking Roy that he forgot why it was a bad idea. He never really had this problem before. Even with a condom, he was too sensitive and it was over too quick. He’d never actually properly fucked Roy and he wasn’t going to be able to that morning. Not after everything Roy had just put him through. He almost came just from the feeling of the condom rolling down his shaft, and then he almost came again when Roy straddled him, supporting himself with one foot on the ground while his other knee was tucked up beneath him on the couch.

Jamie’s hands curled into tight fists, his nails digging into his palms hard enough to leave marks, but he couldn’t even feel that minor pain. Not while Roy was sinking down onto his dick, so fucking hot and so fucking tight and he just felt so good. Jamie swallowed and swallowed, fighting against the growing pleasure, but like Roy Kent himself, it was simply too overwhelming. He came with an abrupt shout, hips jerking, his face turning hot with a familiar sense of embarrassment. He wasn’t even a three-pump chump, he was just a chump. He squeezed his eyes shut, the aftershocks powerful enough to keep his hips rolling. Only the sensation of Roy’s strong fingers squeezing his pec forced Jamie’s eyes open to the sight of Roy furiously stroking himself.

“Fuck!” His jizz painted Jamie’s chest, and Jamie had to admit it was very hot. He definitely didn’t mind. But the fact that Roy was left to get himself off because Jamie couldn’t even last for thirty fucking seconds made Jamie feel worse. He couldn’t imagine Roy ever had to do that with Keeley. And he really didn’t have to stretch his imagination when it came to what Roy did with Keeley because he had heard it every time she slept over and Jamie had been left alone in his room, staring into the darkness, creating the images to match the soundtrack.

Roy leaned forward and unwound the shirt from Jamie’s wrists before pushing himself to his feet. Jamie didn’t move, just stared up at Roy who seemed very tall from that angle. Very tall and very fit. God, he was so fucking sexy. Roy offered his hand and helped Jamie sit up.

“Have fun?” Roy asked.

“Yeah.” He had a great fucking time. He always did when Roy was touching him.

“Good. Better go shower and get cleaned up. I’ll start breakfast.”

“What about you?” Jamie blurted.

“Are you kidding? Go on, before I get too distracted to cook.”

That wasn’t really an answer, but he was covered in jizz and sweat so it wasn’t the best time to press the conversation. He hurried up the stairs, stopping in the room that was now more of a giant walk-in closet for all of Jamie’s clothes than a bedroom. Roy never actually told him he could move in, but he also didn’t protest when Jamie started storing more and more of his things, and now he basically lived there. There was a suitcase and a couple of garment bags on the bed, reminders that he wasn’t finished packing for his trip to Brazil.

He should be excited about jetting off to Rio for a fucking commercial shoot with Nike, but he was kind of dreading it. He would be gone for three weeks, and Roy couldn’t go with him because he had too much work to do as Richmond’s new gaffer. He couldn’t just go gallivanting off to the other side of the planet. Jamie understood so he hid his disappointment. But he would have rather stayed there with Roy than go off by himself.

Especially since he wasn’t sure if Roy would be waiting for him when he came back. A lot of things could change in three weeks. Last time Jamie left, he hadn’t even been gone for a full week and Roy had more than enough time to fuck Keeley and start talking again. Roy still loved her and she clearly wanted to be with Roy, she just didn’t want a third-wheel on her dates and in her relationship. Which, fair play. Roy probably would have listened to her if she hadn’t demanded he make a choice before the end of the season.

The fact was, without Jamie around the only obstacle between them would be gone.

The smell of breakfast started to drift upstairs, kicking Jamie into gear. He quickly showered and dressed, stepping out of the toilet just in time to hear Roy shout, “Tartt! Breakfast!”

Jamie hurried down the stairs, pausing at the kitchen entrance to catch his breath. Not from running, but because Roy still looked so fucking fit. He hadn’t bothered to put on a shirt, but he was wearing an apron, and it was equal parts surprising and sexy. How was Jamie going to survive three weeks without him? What the fuck was he going to do if those three weeks became the rest of his life?

“Sit down.” Roy looked up from the food. “What the fuck are you wearing?”

“What? It’s just a t-shirt and shorts.”

“Whose?”

Jamie looked down at himself. The shirt was a little tight. And maybe the shorts were a little short. “Mine.”

“Did you shrink them? I can see your dick.”

“You cannot.”

“I’m looking at it right now.”

“I could go change, shall I?”

“Now don’t be hasty. I didn’t say there was anything wrong with it.” Roy’s hand snaked around his waist and landed on his ass. “It’s my new favorite outfit. You should wear it every day.”

“Pretty much everything else is packed.”

Roy squeezed his ass and pulled him closer, so Jamie’s cock was pressed against his hip. If Roy didn’t let him go soon, the food would be completely forgotten. Roy nuzzled into the side of his neck, and the feeling of his whiskers against his skin reminded Jamie of how those same whiskers felt between his legs. His thighs were still red from the whisker burn, and Roy’s lips were so soft compared to his beard. Jamie tilted his head back, shivering with pleasure as Roy started to suck on the tender spot beneath his ear.

“Roy–”

Roy hummed.

“Breakfast?”

Roy hummed again and lifted his head, but he wasn’t done with Jamie’s throat. He licked and kissed at the mark he left. “Maybe I’ll just eat you for breakfast.”

Jamie’s cock twitched with interest. When Roy first started saying shit like that Jamie had assumed he was kidding, but now he knew better. It was like with training–if Roy said it, he meant it, no matter how crazy or surprising it was. He felt Roy’s smile, and then the hand that wasn’t massaging his ass pushed down the front of his shorts, and Jamie’s cock did more than twitch. It didn’t matter that Roy made him come less than an hour ago, all Roy had to do was touch him to make him ache for more. Roy shifted his weight, pinning Jamie against the counter as he started to gnaw on the side of Jamie’s neck, and there wasn’t anything for Jamie to do except moan.

The doorbell chimed and Roy stilled, but he didn’t release Jamie. It chimed again and Roy growled. “You expecting somebody?”

“Not me.” Jamie definitely was not inviting somebody over to Roy’s house at that hour on a Sunday morning, especially the day before he was about to leave for three weeks.

“Fuck.” Roy released him and stepped back, and Jamie shivered again, this time from the chill of losing Roy’s heat and attention. The doorbell sounded again. “Fuck.”

“Is it Phoebe?”

“Shouldn’t be. I told Ruth I was busy today. Just…stay here. I’ll take care of it.”

Jamie felt a little sorry for whoever was at the door because Roy looked like he planned to take care of it by nutting whoever it was until they promised to never come back. He straightened his shorts, but that didn’t help cover him up. In fact, it almost looked obscene, the way his cock jutted against the thin material. But he cooled down pretty quick when he heard Phoebe’s cheerful, “Hi, Uncle Roy! Where’s your shirt?”

“Mind your own business, Phoebe. What are you doing here?”

“We’re going to see Frozen today! Mummy can’t make it so Keeley said you can come with us.”

Jamie felt like he swallowed a rock, and it was slowly grinding its way down his throat and into his stomach. He had no doubt that Roy would be joining them and leaving Jamie alone for the day. It wasn’t even a choice. And Jamie would never try to make it one.

“Hi, Jamie!” Phoebe ran into the kitchen and then spun around. “Do you like my Elsa dress?”

“Yeah, love it. Why you dressed up so nice?”

“We’re going to see Frozen! And we’re going to go shopping and have dinner in a super fancy restaurant.”

“Wow, that sounds like a lot of fun.”

“Oh, hi Jamie.” Keeley was also dressed up for her day with Phoebe, and she looked gorgeous, of course. “I didn’t know you were still in training.”

“Yeah, well, never really done with training, am I?”

The kitchen door opened again, but just enough for Roy to poke his head through. “Tartt.”

He didn’t need to say anything else when he used that tone. It meant get your ass over here or maybe bootroom now. It never even occurred to Jamie to hesitate, he just followed Roy into the hallway and up the stairs. Roy didn’t say anything until he closed the bedroom door behind him.

“I’m sorry.”

Jamie blinked. “It’s alright man, I get it.”

“I don’t have to go with them.”

“What? Don’t be daft.”

“You can come with us.”

“Don’t got a ticket, do I? Besides, I still gotta finish packing and everything.”

Roy pulled the apron overhead and kicked his sweats off before turning to the closet. Jamie’s heart clenched, and he was grateful Roy had his back to him because he was sure his feelings were written all over his face. He definitely did understand, and he definitely did not expect Roy to stay home with him, but it still fucking hurt to know that Roy was going to get a jump on his three uninterrupted weeks with Keeley. Jamie would love to have a big day of shopping and seeing Frozen and having dinner with Phoebe and Roy. But he couldn’t tag along and watch Roy and Keeley together. It was painful enough before he started sleeping with Roy, and now he was so ass-over-teakettle in love with Roy Kent, he wouldn’t be able to fake his way through the day.

Roy dressed in his usual clothes for events that required more than jeans and a t-shirt–trousers, button-down shirt, jacket though today he went without the tie. He looked so fucking handsome. Jamie loved him so fucking much. It was fucking pathetic. He was just going to sit there and watch while the man he loved got ready for a date with the woman he loved. Except, that wasn’t quite right, was it? He wasn’t going out on a date, he was going on girl’s day with his niece…and the woman he loved. Who his niece also happened to adore.

“Why don’t you come meet us for dinner after the show?” Roy sat down beside him on the bed with his oxfords. “I’ll get you added to the reservation.”

“My flight’s really early, you know.”

Roy slid his feet into the shoes. “Yeah, I know. That’s why I don’t want the whole fucking night to be wasted.” He put his hand on the back of Jamie’s neck. “Think about it. I’ll text you when we’re done with the show.”

“Yeah, alright.” Jamie would think about it. He’d spend the whole fucking day thinking about watching Roy and Keeley flirt by candlelight. Well, maybe not candlelight? That might be a bit too much for dinner that included a nine year old.

Roy pulled him into an all-too-brief kiss before standing. “God, I hate leaving you like this. Half-naked in my bed.”

“Uncle Roy!” Phoebe shouted.

Roy rolled his eyes and opened the door to shout back, “Don’t shout in the house!”

“We’re going to be late!”

“Alright, alright, hold your horses!”

“Have fun,” Jamie said as cheerfully as he could.

“Doubt it,” Roy grumbled.

Jamie followed him out of the room, but stayed at the top of the stairs. Both Phoebe and Keeley were waiting for him at the bottom, and they both smiled as he approached.

“Do I look alright?” Roy asked.

“Very handsome,” Keeley said.

“Yeah, Uncle Roy. Very handsome.”

“So where we going?”

“We’re starting at the spa. Keeley said we need manicures and we’ll get our makeup done!”

“What am I supposed to do while you’re doing that?” Roy asked, holding the door open for the ladies.

“You can have a manicure, too, Uncle Roy!”

“No.”

“They can paint your nails black,” was the last thing Jamie heard before the door closed, leaving Jamie alone in the silence. He shuffled back into the bedroom he’d been sharing with Roy every night for the past month and dropped down on Roy’s side, burying his face in the pillow. A part of him just wanted to go to sleep right there. He could sleep all day and when he woke up, Roy would be home again. If Roy came back that night.

Once that thought struck him, Jamie couldn’t let it go. Just like he couldn’t let go of what he heard in Manchester. He’d been standing outside Roy’s door, feeling like his skin wasn’t fitting right, desperate to be touched, to be held. Even if it was only for five minutes. He figured Roy had just lost track of time when he didn’t show up like he promised he would. And he supposed, that was exactly what happened, only Roy had lost track of time because he was with Keeley.

Do you even still love me?

Of course I do. It was never about falling out of love.

Still the one and only person Roy had ever been in love with.

Jamie groaned and rolled onto his back. God, he had nobody to blame but himself. He almost convinced himself to put an end to things that night. And then he stepped into his old bedroom and Roy was sitting on his bed, like Jamie had conjured him through the sheer force of his will. How many hours had he spent right there on the bed, staring up at Roy Kent’s poster and wishing. His fantasies of Roy Kent had been very simple at first. Just idle daydreams about having a kickabout and Roy Kent being totally impressed because Jamie was so brilliant at footie. When Jamie got older and realized there might be other things he could do with Roy Kent. And now there he was, willing to do all of those things Jamie had ever dreamed about and more, and all Jamie had to do was pretend he never heard a thing.

Jamie’s phone chimed with a message from Roy. They could have come round after their spa appointment. This sucks.

I’m not getting a manicure

Do you think my hands are too rough?

Jamie considered for a moment before writing back no not too rough but manicures are nice you will probably like it

I’d like it better if you were here. I’ll send you the address and you can get a fucking manicure

And a pedicure

Send me a pic

Jamie actually would enjoy a mani/pedi. He used to go to the spa with Keeley every month. They always had a really great time.

Send you a pic of what? My feet??

Yeah sure or whatever

I’m bored out of my skull

Jamie angled his phone so most of his body was in view, including where his shorts were riding up on his thighs. That good?

Yes great you are still in bed?!

Fuck they probably won’t even notice if I leave

They’re in the back it smells terrible in here like chemicals

Don’t ever let anybody drag me to this place ever again

Jamie did think it was strange they showed up so early to drag Roy off to their fun girls day when Keeley had to know Roy would not enjoy going to the spa. Did she really think they would talk Roy into getting a manicure? Roy could be talked into most things he resisted at first, but you had to finesse it a bit. He had to be approached slowly so he wouldn’t shy away.

I’ll give you a manicure they feel nice

Will you be naked?

Yeah

Okay fine but you better not smear this smelly shit all over my hands

You like the way my lotion smells don’t you

I love the way YOU smell so maybe Fuck i’m starving did you eat?

Jamie’s breakfast was sitting right where they left it but he wasn’t really interested in food.

What’s after the spa? Lunch?

Roy didn’t respond. The next alert on his phone was from Insta letting him know that Keeley had posted an update on her finsta. He automatically tapped the alert and was treated to an ussie of Keeley and Phoebe holding up their hands to show off their freshly painted fingers. Jamie could see Roy behind Keeley’s shoulder, and that didn’t seem like an accident. Roy was too clearly in frame. Jamie could see his entire face. She tagged it with #roykent and #datenighttonight. And the updates didn’t stop. A few minutes later there was a picture of Keeley and Phoebe in the sunshine, again with Roy caught in the frame, and then a picture of Roy and Phoebe sitting at a table outside of a cafe. Roy wasn’t smiling, but it was his normal not-smile, and that picture was tagged with #perfectday and #lunchwithmyloves.

Jamie tossed his phone across the bed. He didn’t need to watch all the likes and comments start to pile up. Everybody was apparently very excited and happy to learn that Keeley was having lunch and date night with Roy Kent. Jamie didn’t have any pictures of himself on a date with Roy because he’d never been on a date with Roy. By this time tomorrow, everybody Jamie knew would know that Roy and Keeley were dating again.

Fuck, he needed to get out of there. It was time to stop wasting time. He didn’t want to go. He wanted to stay with Roy. He liked it there. He loved living with Roy. He loved Roy–not Roy Kent, but Roy, the guy who ran into doors in the dark and loved to learn new recipes and had thirty identical black t-shirts in his closet and always fancied a cuddle. Jamie was just getting to know that guy, and it wasn’t fucking fair that he couldn’t have more time with him.

He started in the bedroom across the hall, collecting all the clothes and boots and jewelry he’d been keeping there. Then he sorted through the upstairs toilet and the downstairs toilet. After that, he went through the house room by room. He had junk everywhere. Packing it all up and getting it out of the house took the better part of the day. He also took the time to tidy the kitchen and turn off all the lights, as per Roy’s constant bitching about the power bill, and managed not to look at his phone until he had everything awkwardly packed into his car. He was hoping for a message from Roy, something that would make Jamie change his mind, something that would give him a reason to unpack it all again.

Jamie was on the way to the airport, his ticket changed to an earlier flight, before he heard from Roy again. Dinner reservation at 7 added you and then a pin for the location of the restaurant.

Jamie’s gut told him to ignore it, but he wasn’t quite at the place where he could just ignore Roy Kent. Sorry can’t

Why? Haven’t you finished packing?

Don’t want to spoil your date

Jamie’s phone immediately started ringing but he sent the call to voicemail.

Answer your phone

Another call sent to voicemail.

Are you really not going to answer?

Jamie what is going on?

Maybe Roy was actually insane. How could he think Jamie would want to go to dinner with him and Keeley? What was he even playing at? Didn’t he realize that Jamie loved him and didn’t need a front row seat to the rekindling of the romance of the century?

Ask your girlfriend.

What the fuck?

Jamie pulled up Keeley’s finsta again and took a screenshot of the most recent picture to send to Roy. Keeley, Phoebe, and Roy posed outside the theater with the marquee above them, looking like the perfect little family. Roy was even smiling. Once again, she tagged Roy, #datenighttonight, #dinnerandashow, #perfectday, #showwithmyloves, #justfamilythings. There were already over one hundred likes, and a comment from Ted Lasso at the very top about the power of true love.

What the fuck is this? I don’t even know what this is will you answer your fucking phone?!

Please answer your phone

This is not a fucking date

Fine I’m on my way home

That sent a strange jolt down Jamie’s spine. Not there on way to Rio. Don’t want to be in the way of your happiness I know you still love her and she wants you back i was just a distraction

Jamie’s face was hot with tears by the time he hit send, and he immediately turned on airplane mode and zipped the phone into his bum bag. There wasn’t anything to add to that. Roy was probably surprised tonight, but by the time Jamie returned to Richmond, Roy would be settled into his renewed relationship and his new job, and this last year will be nothing more than a memory.

#

Nobody wants you, Jamie.

Uri’s words, kept fresh in his mind because it was the first thing he thought about every morning when he woke up. Originally, it had been like a mantra, reminding him of how close he was to the precipice of complete destruction. He needed to return to Richmond, he needed to be a team player, he needed to be the guy other people could count on, otherwise he would perish. If he ever wanted to get lazy or discouraged, he reminded himself of that moment, sitting in his agent’s office with nowhere to hide from the truth.

Later, after he’d become more entrenched, made friendships, built bridges, he didn’t discard the memory. He clung to it even tighter, as a reminder of how much he stood to lose if he didn’t act right. Couldn’t be a prick, and couldn’t run away from his problems, because if he fell back into old habits, he had nobody to fall back on.

Sitting with his mates at Rebecca’s dad’s funeral, he thought about the other thing Uri had said to him. Now you’re like a dead son, so I love you even more. Most of the people in that building weren’t there for the dead man, they were there to support Rebecca and her mother. A whole community of people beyond the team. Jamie sat there and thought about what it would mean to be somebody’s dead son. Who would show up to support his mum? Who even loved him? He’d been driven to make that foolish confession to Keeley because he couldn’t think of a single person besides his mum who ever had loved him. Except maybe her. Then he realized no, it had never been her, and if he didn’t apologize to Roy, he might lose his spot on the team. Find himself on the outside again.

Now he was sitting in the Dubai airport and staring blankly at the monitors announcing departures and he heard the words as clearly as if they were spoken yesterday: Nobody wants you, Jamie. For the first time in months. For a time, it seemed like he could forget it, move past it. Richmond not only wanted him, they needed him. His mates would show up to his funeral to support his mum. He was on his way to Brazil because Nike wanted him. And for a little while, Roy Kent wanted him, too.

Jamie absently fiddled with his phone–it was dead now, the battery drained, so Jamie couldn’t check if Roy sent him anything even if he wanted to. He was having a hard time keeping his eyes open. He didn’t get any sleep on the plane, and he didn’t really eat anything, either, but he did drink three bloody marys. The first thing he did when he got off the plane was find a toilet and got sick, nothing but red coming out. Usually purging the booze from his stomach got him feeling right as rain, but his stomach felt even worse and the smells from the various food shops made him nauseous.

He should have never changed his first reservation. Even if that meant sitting in the airport all night. If he had stayed with his original flight, he would be landing in Rio in just a few hours. This flight had a four hour layover in Dubai–after an 8 hour flight–and then Dubai to Rio was…Jamie wasn’t sure how long it actually was. If he was reading the numbers right, it was eighteen hours, but his vision was starting to get blurry, so he wasn’t confident about that. Jamie didn’t know if that would put him behind schedule in Rio. Would he be late? When was he supposed to report for the first day of shooting? Jamie couldn’t remember his itinerary, and he didn’t want to be late. He didn’t want to get the sack from Nike. He was actually really fucking excited about the commercial and being part of the campaign, and he didn’t know if he could handle the disappointment of losing that on top of losing Roy. If he did lose Nike, Keeley would go mental. This was a major deal for KBPR, too.

He was too tired to stop his thoughts from drifting back to Roy. Did Roy go back to Keeley’s after they dropped off Phoebe? Or did they go back to Roy’s since Jamie wasn’t underfoot? Was there any possibility that they didn’t spend the night together? Roy had seemed confused in his texts, but maybe not? Maybe Jamie was remembering them wrong. His mind was more than a little fuzzy. God, he wished Roy was there. Sitting next to Jamie with his legs stretched out in front of him, arms folded, quiet except for the occasional sarcastic comment. Would he be grumbling about traveling? He never grumbled when they went on away matches, but that wasn’t the same as traveling for holiday, right? He wanted to go back to Amsterdam with Roy, and he had really wanted Roy to join him in Rio, and he thought it might be fun to go to America to visit Ted.

Jamie had mostly tuned out all the noises around him. His eyes were open, but he felt like he was asleep. Until he heard the boarding announcement with a vaguely familiar number. He blinked himself back into full consciousness and sat up, waiting to hear it again. He had to pay attention because his phone was dead and nobody even knew he was in Dubai and if he missed his flight, he really didn’t know what he was going to do. A few minutes later, they repeated the announcement, and Jamie realized that was his flight boarding at the gate.

The flight crew was friendly and very helpful, guiding Jamie to his seat in first class, offering him a charger for his phone, and a drink, and a pillow, and a hot towel. Jamie plugged his phone in, but when the screen lit up he lost his nerve. He tried to find something to watch, scrolling through all the options until he reached the end of the menu without recognizing anything. When they dimmed the lights in the cabin, he reclined his chair and unfolded the blanket and closed his eyes. If he slept, it wasn’t peacefully. He didn’t feel rested. When they finally landed, he felt completely wrung out. How was he going to find his hotel? There wouldn’t be anybody waiting for him because he fucked up his whole schedule. He didn’t know if it was night or day. He didn’t even know what fucking day it was. It couldn’t be Monday. Tuesday, maybe? Or was it already Wednesday?

Jamie’s brain was completely done in, but his body had been trained to keep moving even when he was past the point of exhaustion. He found his way through the baggage claim and customs on autopilot, and then managed to get into a cab and gave the driver an address that he could only hope was his actual hotel. It was, and there was somebody to help him with his bags, and guide him to the front desk, and people really were very nice. He would have to remember to give them all a good tip. By the time he had his key in hand, he didn’t care if it was Tuesday or Wednesday or even Thursday. He didn’t care if he was late to the shoot, if Nike wanted to sack him, if Keeley was going to have his neck for losing this sponsor. All he wanted to do was fall into bed and sleep for three days straight. And then maybe he would go out and dance and drink and find five or six fit, beautiful bodies to help him forget about Roy Kent.

There wasn’t anybody alive who was going to make him forget about Roy Kent.

Especially since Roy Kent was waiting for him in his hotel room.

Jamie stopped short, dropping his bags from his numb hands, blinking his dry and tired eyes, but no matter how much he blinked, Roy didn’t disappear.

“What…what are you doing here?”

“If you’re going to break up with me, you can at least do it to my face.”

“Break up with you?” The words didn’t even make sense. “Roy–”

“Whoa.” Roy rushed to his side, catching Jamie before he dropped to the floor with his suitcases. “Where have you been?”

“Dubai,” Jamie muttered.

“You flew to Rio through Dubai? Jesus Christ. Come here. Sit down.”

Roy led him to the couch, keeping his arms around Jamie and guiding him down to the cushion. Jamie naturally leaned into him, his eyes stinging, and then burning, and then flooding with tears. He was too tired to make any noise. He couldn’t even lift his head. He didn’t understand how Roy could be there but he didn’t have the energy to ask.

“Jamie, did you get any sleep on the plane?”

Jamie shrugged.

“Did you have anything to eat?”

Jamie shook his head.

“I’ll order something.”

Jamie adjusted his hold on Roy and shook his head. If Roy left him, Jamie might realize he was nothing more than a dream or a hallucination.

“You need to eat, sweetheart.”

“Later, please,” Jamie whispered. Later, later, everything could wait until later, for now Jamie just wanted to close his eyes and stay there, locked in Roy’s arms.

#

From the moment Roy had Jamie in his arms until the moment Jamie passed out couldn’t have been more than five minutes. And once he was out, he was out. Roy gently eased him to his back, and arranged him on the couch with a pillow and a blanket and took his boots off. Jamie didn’t even stir or mumble. He looked fucking awful. His hair was flat and stringy, his skin ashen and splotchy at the same time, eyes swollen from crying, his lips dry and cracked. There was a split in his bottom lip deep enough that it looked like somebody hit him. Watching him sleep, Roy felt more angry and helpless than he did when Jamie completely stopped responding to his texts. It felt like he was still out of Roy’s reach.

At first, Roy was completely confused. Like Jamie was sending him texts in some alien language and he needed to find an interpreter before he could understand what these words meant together. If he didn’t want to join them for dinner, that was one thing, but to decline because he didn’t want to spoil Roy’s date? Where the fuck did that even come from? What the fuck did that even mean? His confusion only deepened as Jamie referred to Keeley as his girlfriend and then sent a picture that explained nothing. Of course, he recognized the picture itself, because he had just posed for it, but he didn’t fully grasp what it had to do with anything. All he really understood was that he needed to get home and fix this shit because something was very wrong.

Roy’s experience with social media pretty much started and ended with Twitter, and he never really saw a need for all the other shit people wasted their time on. But he did have the Instagram app on his phone. Keeley had set up an account for him while they were dating and had posted a few things as part of his branding–which he ignored because what did he need branding for? He was Roy Kent. But now he was grateful he had it because otherwise he would have no fucking clue that it wasn’t just one picture, it was many, many pictures throughout the entire day. Every single one of them prominently featuring Roy and every single one of them labeled some variation of date night.

And then three things happened almost at the exact same time. Jamie’s final text came through–which sent Roy’s heart into such a fucking state he thought he was going to have a stroke–followed immediately by a cryptic message from Rebecca–I’m glad you’re finally coming to your senses–and then his sister informing him that she really appreciated having a full day off to decompress and she hoped he enjoyed the show. It all clicked into place, and what Roy felt in that moment wasn’t even anger. It was far bigger than anger. It clogged his throat and felt like an icy fist squeezing his heart.

He took a few deep breaths to find his voice and then said, “Come on, Phoebe, we’re going home.”

“Roy? What’s going on?” Keeley asked, and he thought he heard a hopeful note in her voice. Did she think he wanted to be alone with her? He didn’t even want to speak to her.

“Uncle Roy? Aren’t we going to dinner?”

“No, we’re going home.”

“But we have reservations,” Phoebe protested.

“I’ll take you to dinner some other time.”

“When?”

“Later.”

He didn’t say anything to Keeley as he helped Phoebe into the G-wagon and got her buckled in. He didn’t speak to her on the drive back to Ruth’s house. Every time he looked at her, his throat closed up, which was just as well because everything he wanted to say was something he could never say in front of Phoebe.

“What was your plan?” Roy asked once they were alone. They were still parked outside of Ruth’s house. “You couldn’t talk me into kicking Jamie out so you thought you’d use the power of PR?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Roy gripped the wheel with both hands and counted to ten. His anger had split into two equal parts–one for her and one for him. Yes, she set him up, but he was the one who walked right into the trap without a second thought. How could Jamie think he was on a date? Maybe because Keeley showed up at his door and he didn’t even fucking hesitate, did he? Just fucking left Jamie alone like Jamie didn’t even matter.

Roy didn’t say anything until he pulled up outside of her house. “Get out.”

“What?”

“Get the fuck out of my car.”

“Don’t you want to come in? We can have a drink?”

“I have to catch a flight to Rio de Janeiro."

“Since when?”

“Since twenty fucking minutes ago when my boyfriend informed me that he didn’t want to ruin our date and he changed his flight to leave tonight instead of tomorrow.”

“Your boyfriend? He’s not your boyfriend.”

“The fuck he isn’t. What the fuck were you even thinking?”

“Since when?”

“What?”

“You said you weren’t fucking him. Has that changed?”

“It’s none of your fucking business! I don’t have to tell you anything about what I do with Jamie.”

“Roy–”

“That was a dick fucking move, Keeley. You fucking lie to me, you lie to Ruth, you use Phoebe, and for what? So you can hurt Jamie Tartt’s feelings?”

“It wasn’t like that,” Keeley protested.

“Oh, you didn’t want to hurt his feelings you just wanted to fucking humiliate him?”

“No! It wasn’t about him, it was about you. I thought if we actually had a day out together without him, you would realize how good we are together. We belong together. Everybody else can see it!”

“I don’t give a fuck about what anybody else thinks of my private life. Now I have to fly to Brazil and fix this because I want to be with him. Not with you. With him.”

The fact that he hadn’t actually ever talked to Jamie about being in a committed relationship seemed very, very trivial at that moment. Forty-eight hours later, as he watched Jamie sleep with tears drying on his cheeks, Roy realized that it was far from trivial and he was the biggest fucking idiot on the planet. He could only hope that this was still something he could fix.

When Jamie said it’s alright man I get it, Roy thought he meant I understand that Phoebe is growing up fast and you should spend time with her while she still wants to hang out with you but what if he meant I understand Keeley will always matter more to you than I do? Roy wanted to defend himself against that, but he couldn’t because once he really started to think about it, he realized he never actually told Jamie the truth of how he felt about him. If Roy hadn’t been such an idiot, Jamie would have rolled his eyes at all that shit Keeley was posting. If Roy had been honest, maybe Rebecca and Ted and all of Jamie’s fucking friends wouldn’t have jumped in with their eager congratulations on their fucking reconciliation.

Fuck, what if he couldn’t fix this?

His earlier prediction that he was going to fuck this up now seemed more like a fucking premonition. Maybe he was just fucking doomed. He’d only ever been good at one thing, and he taught Jamie every fucking thing he had ever known about it, so maybe that should be the end of it. For Jamie’s sake. He could find somebody who actually fucking deserved him. And Roy could get what he deserved, which was to be a lonely old geezer with bad knees and bad eyes until he became decrepit and died.

Roy reached for Jamie’s hand, holding it between his palms. His fingers were freezing. Why were his hands always cold? He moved a little, shifting onto his side facing Roy, and kicked at the blanket. Roy pulled it away from his legs, tucking it higher around his shoulders, and Jamie settled back down. Roy should have told him everything, should have laid it all out after that first fight with Keeley, or at least that night in Manchester. He could say he was afraid of Jamie not feeling the same way, but he knew better after Manchester, didn’t he?

Once he was airborne, he called Ruth and told her everything. Absolutely everything, starting with the night in Amsterdam, and she listened quietly until he told her that he was never planning to go to Frozen with Keeley and Phoebe. And then she started apologizing like she was the one who fucked up. The apologies stopped when Roy told her about the many, many pictures Keeley posted of Phoebe. Then her voice got quiet and measured, and she said she would call him back. Roy didn’t even feel a twinge of guilt for unleashing Ruth on Keeley, and the next time Roy looked, all of the pictures had been taken down and it was like Sunday never happened.

Except it did happen, and Roy knew the fallout wasn’t going to stop just because Keeley deleted the posts. What had she been thinking? Did she really imagine her plan would work? Or did it all go exactly like she hoped? Was her goal to get Roy back or did she just want to hurt Jamie? Not just hurt him, but embarrass him, make him feel like an idiot for ever thinking he could trust Roy? The timing could have just been a coincidence–he knew she bought the tickets months ago–but he didn’t think it was. He thought it was coldly opportunistic. And if it had all gone to plan–if he went to dinner and then took Keeley home and went inside for a nightcap–any hope he had with Jamie would have been absolutely destroyed. Not because he thought he would have slept with Keeley again, but because he would never be able to convince Jamie he didn’t. Or that he wasn’t.

Jamie started to move again, licking his lips and shifting onto his back and then back on his side, mumbling incoherently. The split on his lip looked even worse. Roy reluctantly let go of his hand and searched for his bum bag, finding it in the heap of luggage he left at the door. He rummaged through it until he found Jamie’s lip balm. He used the tip of his finger to scrape some from the top of the tube and then very carefully spread it across his dry lips. Despite using the lightest possible touch, Jamie’s eyes opened.

“Roy?”

“Hey you.” Roy dropped down to his knee so he would be level with Jamie’s eyes. “Want some water?”

Jamie pressed his lips together and winced. “Yes please.”

Roy had a bottle waiting on the table next to the couch, and he held it up to Jamie’s lips. He lifted his head enough to take a few swallows and then fell back to the pillow, his eyes closing again.

“Where are we?” His voice still sounded hoarse despite the water.

“Brazil.”

“Why are you in Brazil?”

“Because you are.”

Jamie’s eyebrows pinched together, his mouth pulling into a small frown. “Said you couldn’t.”

“I was wrong.” About so many fucking things, as it turned out.

“‘M tired.”

“I know, sweetheart. You’ve had a really long day, you can go back to sleep.”

Jamie put his arms out, reaching blindly until he found Roy’s hand. “Sleep.” He pulled Roy’s arm over his chest and turned onto his side, pressing his face to Roy’s shoulder.

“Do you want to move to the bed?”

Jamie didn’t respond. He was already asleep again, leaving Roy trapped in a very awkward position. But he didn’t mind. If he had to stay there all day until his knee ached and his back was stiff, he would.

“I love you,” he whispered. It didn’t count because Jamie wasn’t awake, but maybe if he practiced enough he would be able to say the words when it actually fucking mattered. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

He’d say it again when Jamie woke up. And a thousand more times after that. And maybe every day for the rest of his life, if Jamie gave him the chance.

#

Jamie’s mouth felt like it was covered in sandpaper from his lips down to the base of his throat. He tried to swallow but he didn’t have any spit, so that didn’t help. He coughed to clear his throat, and that just made it feel worse, so he coughed again and again, a dry, raspy sound. His eyes felt as dry as his mouth, and his nose hurt, too. He needed to drink about a gallon of water, have a shower, and then guzzle down another gallon. That would be a good start.

He sat up, his shoulders stiff, and felt a kink in his neck. It took him a moment to get his bearings and he realized he was on an unfamiliar couch in an unfamiliar room. He reached for his phone, but it wasn’t anywhere nearby. But he did find a half-empty bottle of water, which he eagerly upended over his mouth, letting it spill down his throat and all over his face. That activated his stomach, adding an unpleasant combination of hunger and nausea to his overall discomfort. How long had he been sleeping? Did he actually make it to Brazil or was he in some random hotel somewhere between Dubai and Rio?

He rubbed his hands over his face until the gritty feeling left his eyes. He was definitely dehydrated and hungry, but he didn’t feel like he was hungover. His head didn’t hurt. Other than the kink in his neck and the upset in his stomach, he wasn’t really in any pain. So that was something. After he guzzled the water and took a shower, he would find some food and then figure out if he still had a job in Rio. That was a good, solid plan.

Jamie looked down at his bare feet. He didn’t remember taking his shoes off. Somehow that was worse than not remembering how he got from the airport to the hotel. Or even if he was in the right city. He looked around until he spotted his boots, lined up together on the other side of the room. Why would he do that? Why wouldn’t he just kick them off right there next to the couch?

Because Roy took them off.

Jamie frowned. That didn’t make any sense. Roy wasn’t there, was he? Jamie looked around the room but didn’t see any sign that he wasn’t alone.

But Roy was there. Wasn’t he? Or was that a dream? Jamie squeezed his eyes closed and tried to think, but how could Roy be there? It had to be a dream. Because Roy couldn’t leave Richmond, right? He couldn’t leave Richmond and he was with Keeley, and he didn’t even care if she told everybody they were back on. Roy had made it sound like he hadn’t expected her, but maybe they had already worked it out. Maybe he’d been expecting her the whole time. The back of his eyes started to burn, and how could he have any tears left? He felt like an old husk, brittle and dry.

At least nobody knew about him and Roy. Well, he hadn’t told anybody, and he was pretty sure Roy didn’t announce it, either. Keeley knew, though, which meant that Rebecca probably knew, and if Rebecca knew, she probably told Trent Crimm and Trent was still friendly with Colin, and Beard, and Ted,and between the three of them, the whole team probably knew. Maybe he could stay in Brazil for an extra week or two and by the time he went back to Richmond, it would be old news and everybody would have moved on.

Jamie pushed himself to his feet and started coughing again. God, was he getting sick? That was just great. He could show up to the set three days late, pale, feverish, and shaking. If they didn’t want to dump him already, that would do it.

Nobody wants you, Jamie.

“Shut the fuck up,” Jamie said out loud. “Just shut up.”

“Jamie? Are you awake?”

Jamie froze, his heart jolting into his throat.

“Jamie?” Roy stepped out of the toilet, his hair damp and his beard freshly trimmed. “Oh good, just in time for breakfast. I ordered quite a bit because I thought you’d be half-starved.”

“I…you’re really here?”

“How are you feeling? Get enough sleep?”

Did Jamie get enough sleep? Or was he going absolutely mental?

A knock on the door made him jump. Roy crossed the suite to the door, and Jamie realized the luggage he had just dropped had been stacked to the side, as neatly as his shoes. Roy opened the door and a waiter wheeled in a cart with at least a dozen covered dishes, a tall pitcher of orange juice, a tea pot, and a carafe of coffee.

“Would you like me to set the table, sir?”

“I got it, thanks.” Roy pulled some bills out of his pocket and pressed them into the waiter’s palm.

Jamie remained stuck in place as the waiter left and Roy started uncovering the dishes. That juice looked amazing and Jamie was also desperate for some tea, but he felt like he was paralyzed. All he could do was stand there and stare.

“Do you want to eat first or do you want to shower?”

“What are you doing here?” Jamie finally managed.

Roy looked up. “I’m here to see you.”

“You were…” Jamie gestured at the room. “Here already? When I got in?”

“Yes.”

“How did you do that?”

“Well, I didn’t circumnavigate the entire globe. I chartered a direct flight to Rio.” Roy poured a glass of juice and brought it to Jamie. “Here you go.”

“You chartered a plane? Why?”

“Quickest, easiest way.”

“That costs a lot, doesn’t it?”

“Sure, I guess. Drink this, sweetheart.”

Jamie obediently took the glass and drank half of it down. It tasted even better than it looked, but Jamie barely noticed. “Why did you call me that?”

“Because you’re my sweetheart.”

“I’m not,” Jamie said sadly, sinking back down to the couch, legs suddenly weak.

“Jamie–”

“I heard you, you know. In Manchester. I went to your room when you didn’t show up and I heard you with Keeley.”

“What did you hear?” Roy asked softly.

“I heard you tell Keeley you haven’t stopped loving her. You shouldn’t have come here. Why did you come here?” He covered his face with both hands. God, this was mortifying.

“I came here because I need to tell you something, and it couldn’t wait.”

“It can wait,” Jamie said into his palms.

“No, it can’t,” Roy said, gently gripping Jamie’s wrists and guiding his hands down from his face. “Jamie, please. I’m…I know I might already be too late, but please hear me out.”

“Okay.” What else could he say? Clearly this wasn’t going to be over until Roy said his piece.

“First of all, I’m sorry–”

“You don’t have to be.”

“Yes, I do. Listen. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you sooner. I should have said it the very first moment I realized it. I love you.”

It wasn’t that Jamie doubted him. Roy did treat him like he cared about him, and they had grown very close, even before they started fucking. “Yeah, but…it’s not the way that I love you. Not the way you love Keeley.”

“I do love you the way you love me.”

Jamie blinked, his gaze immediately dropping.

“I also told Keeley that you’re not going anywhere because I need you.”

“For what?”

“What? What do you mean, for what?”

“I mean, if Keeley wants to be with you…you’re both so…you love being with her and I heard…look, I wasn’t trying to be a creep or anything but I heard you two together, and I know you’re…you’re compatible.”

“Compatible?”

“Yeah, so if you love each other and have good sex, what do you need me for?”

Roy reeled back. “You don’t think we have good sex?”

“No! No, I think it’s great but I mean, I know it’s not for you.”

“You think it’s not great for me? The fuck? Jamie, I don’t even know where to start with that.” Roy took a deep breath and looked up to the ceiling. “Okay, I am clearly fucking things up so I’m going to say this as plainly as I can. I am completely in love with you, I want to be with you, and being with you is better than…anything. Sex with you isn’t just great, Jamie, it’s the best.”

“The best?”

“Yes, absolutely. Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you are? \ I know you know how sexy you are. You tell me all the time.”

“Yeah but you’re so good at it. You barely even touch me and I’m just going off like a fucking teenager or something.”

“Okay. How is that a problem?”

“Because I can’t do the same thing for you!”

“I had no idea you felt this way.” Roy took both his hands and brought them up to his mouth, kissing the knuckles on his right and then his left. “Listen, at this age, I can get off once per day. Maybe twice, if I’m lucky. You never leave me wanting. Besides, getting you off is my new full-time kink. I think about it every waking minute and dream about it, too.” He slid closer, pressing against Jamie’s leg. “And when I say I need you, it’s not because of the sex, it’s because having you in my life makes my life better. In every way.”

“Oh.”

“Will you forgive me?”

“I feel like I should be apologizing for overreacting,” Jamie said with a shaky breath.

“You didn’t.”

There was an edge in Roy’s voice that he didn’t hear before. “I should have asked–”

“No, I should have told you. And as for what you were reacting to, that was completely out of line. I’m sorry for my part in it. I should have told them that I already had plans with my boyfriend–”

“Your boyfriend?”

“Yeah, I mean, I’d like you to be.”

Jamie felt a surge of happiness so powerful he had to move with it, startling a grunt out of Roy as he slammed their mouths together. Roy immediately wrapped his arms around him and leaned back, pulling Jamie on top of him as he returned the kiss. Roy’s hands moved down his back to cup his ass, giving his cheeks a firm squeeze as his tongue swept into Jamie’s mouth. The heaviness in his chest disappeared, as did all the other physical discomforts. Roy was holding him and kissing him, Roy was in love with him, what was a little bit of thirst or hunger compared to that?

Roy broke the kiss first, a smile in his voice as he asked, “So that’s a yes, then?”

“Yeah. Yes.”

“Good. Now let’s get you cleaned up and fed.”

Jamie moaned. “I want to stay here.”

“I know but you stink.”

“Rude.”

“Sorry, but it’s true.”

Jamie pushed himself up, pulling at his shirt to have a quick sniff. “Oh god. Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

“I’m saying something now.”

Jamie found his feet, pausing while the world made a sharp spin. Roy jumped up and took his elbow, holding him until the floor settled. “You alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just stood up too fast I think.”

Roy shifted his hold from Jamie’s elbow to his hand and gave him a soft tug. “Come on.”

“You gonna shower with me?”

“Somebody has to make sure that you don’t pass out and hit your head.”

Jamie started to undress when they reached the bathroom, but Roy stepped in and took over, pulling Jamie’s shirt over his head and then tugging at his fly. Jamie’s body responded the way it always did when Roy started touching him, and by the time he was naked, his skin was covered in goosebumps and his cock was hard. Roy slid an arm around his waist and wrapped his fingers around Jamie’s shaft, stroking him until Jamie’s knees started to buckle.

“Thought I was supposed to shower,” Jamie muttered, dropping his head to Roy’s shoulder.

“You are.” Roy kissed his temple. “I couldn’t help myself.”

Roy released him, much to Jamie’s disappointment, and moved over to the shower, turning on the faucets. He put a hand under the water to test the temperature, nodding after a few moments and gestured at Jamie to step inside. The water pressure felt amazing and the temperature was perfect, of course, and Jamie braced himself against the wall and let the heat melt the stiffness from his shoulders. Roy joined him after a few moments, gripping Jamie by the hips and pressing a kiss to the back of his neck. Jamie moaned softly and shifted his weight, slotting his ass between Roy’s thighs, his back resting against Roy’s solid chest. Roy didn’t stop kissing him as his hands moved, first to reach for the body wash and then to spread the soap over Jamie’s chest and down his stomach, fingers gliding into the dips of his obliques and then between his thighs. His cock started to stir again just from Roy’s hands being so close, but Roy didn’t let himself get distracted this time. He poured more of the wash into his palms and started higher, at Jamie’s shoulders, gently scrubbing away the sweat along his hairline and behind his ears and under his arms.

“Turn around,” Roy instructed without stepping back, giving Jamie very little room to obey. He shuffled his feet, his body sliding against Roy’s as he moved in a tight circle.

He wrapped his arms around Roy and ducked his head to his shoulder, blocking his face from the shower spray while Roy resumed watching every inch of him with unhurried, maddening hands. The water hadn’t lost any of its heat and the shower was steamy and warm, but Jamie started to shiver. It started with occasional chills down his spine when Roy rubbed against a particularly sensitive area, and the chills came quicker and quicker and he felt them down his arms and legs until he was trembling everywhere.

“Are you cold?”

Jamie shook his head, clenching his jaw so his teeth wouldn’t chatter. It wasn’t cold he felt. In fact, he was almost too hot, like being that close to Roy had raised his core temperature and he was feverish with how much he wanted Roy. Even standing as close as he could get, clinging to Roy and swaying into his touch didn’t help. Every brush of contact just made it worse, Jamie’s heart pounding hard in his chest and in his ears as Roy continued to focus on the task of washing away the grime of sweat and traveling and nerves.

“I know what you need,” Roy said, voice low and confident, and Jamie could only nod frantically.

Yes, Roy knew what he needed. Roy always knew, even when Jamie had no fucking idea. He felt the pads of Roy’s fingers sliding between his crack and then circle his hole. Jamie automatically widened his stance, trying to swallow around a sudden lump in his throat and take a breath without sucking water in his nose.

“Try to relax for me, sweetheart.”

Jamie nodded again and focused more closely on his breathing, trying to ignore the light pressure of Roy’s finger on his rim and the way his cock was throbbing. He noticed the tension in his head from where he was clenching his jaw and exhaled slowly, unlocking the muscle and letting his mouth fall open. After that, his shoulders dropped, and the tension left his arms and legs. Roy kissed over Jamie’s chin to his lips, tongue sliding into his mouth as he pushed his finger into Jamie’s ass. Barely a second later, white-hot pleasure flashed through Jamie’s body. He keened into Roy’s mouth, his cock jerking between their bodies. He felt the hot splash of come on his thigh, and then nothing except the pressure from Roy’s finger continuing to massage deep inside him.

“Roy–”

“One more.”

“I can’t,” Jamie whined. He was too sensitive and the pressure was overwhelming. It felt like he couldn’t even breathe.

“You can. Trust me.”

Jamie whined again, and Roy pushed him back to the wall, the tiles at his back as unyielding as Roy’s body as he began to move his wrist. Jamie tried to protest again, but he couldn’t even gather enough strength to whine. He clenched Roy’s arms to keep himself upright, afraid he would fall even with Roy’s other arm around his waist and his leg between Jamie’s thighs. The tenderness that felt like discomfort started to change, the sound of Roy’s ragged breathing in his ear making him shiver with fresh excitement. The pressure began to build again, starting deep in his core and making his abs flex so tight he would definitely feel it in the morning. The tension that locked in his muscles now couldn’t be released with simple breathing techniques.

“That’s it, pretty boy. I can feel how close you are. God, Jamie. You’re so fucking tight. I’d love to feel you come on my dick.”

“Fuck!”

Jamie’s shout echoed off the tiles around them while his body spasmed, his hips humping frantically into Roy. The pleasure kept coming and coming in wave after wave, his body shaking with each crest, which caused him to clench down around Roy’s finger, which only made him press harder against Jamie’s prostate and set off another wave.

“Please, please,” Jamie finally wheezed. “I can’t…I need to breathe…please.”

“Alright. You’re okay. I got you.”

Roy slowly slid out of Jamie, and the feeling of loss Jamie felt shocked another scream out of him.

“Roy…Roy…please.”

“What?”

Jamie didn’t know what he was begging for. His ass was clenching then relaxing again and again, like some sort of reflex, and he felt good from the orgasm but not completely satisfied. Instead of trying to explain, Jamie slammed his mouth against Roy’s in a clumsy, greedy kiss, and Roy’s response had him pinned against the wall with his tongue down his throat which was good but still not what he wanted.

“Roy, I need–” The words stopped. Jamie didn’t even know what he was about to say, and it felt like his nerves were jumping, tiny prickles of heat like fire ants marching all over his skin. “Coach.”

“Jamie.” Roy cupped his face between his hands and tilted his chin up. “Anything. Just tell me.”

Jamie became aware of Roy’s hard cock nudging against his hip, Roy’s face so close to his he could see the lighter flecks of gold in his brown eyes, and he released a soft “Oh,” as understanding struck. He hadn’t known what he was asking for because he never asked for it before. Not from Roy or from anybody else, but as soon as the thought occurred to him he knew it was right. He released his death grip on Roy’s arm and pushed his hand between their bodies, wrapping his palm around Roy’s shaft.

“Fuck me.”

Roy’s eyebrows went up in surprise and then down into a question. For all the time Roy spent fingering him and eating him out, he had never suggested or even asked to actually fuck Jamie. “Are you sure?”

Jamie nodded.

“That’s something that you want to do?”

Jamie nodded again. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted it.

“Alright. But not in here.”

Roy used the detachable showerhead to rinse Jamie from head to toe, and then quickly washed his front while Jamie helpfully scrubbed his back. Jamie felt a little nervous, but in an excited way. Like he was amped up before a match, adrenaline and endorphins flooding his bloodstream, that jittery, eager feeling that made him want to run. He couldn’t even take the time to dry off properly, just wrapped one of the oversized towels around him and bolted for the bedroom. But he came to an abrupt stop in the middle of the floor, and he didn’t know what to do next. He hadn’t brought any supplies because he hadn’t been planning to fuck around with anybody, and he wasn’t sure how Roy would want him or even where he should be, and he knew he still very much wanted what he asked for, but the jittery, nervy feeling was making it difficult to think straight.

Roy rested his hand on Jamie’s lower back and pushed him forward, putting him back into motion until he reached the bed. “Lay down. On your stomach.”

“Yeah, alright.” He could do that, no problem. The bed was fucking incredible, way more comfortable than the fucking couch had been, and Jamie’s eyes fell closed as he stretched out on the soft blankets and even softer pillows.

“We can do this later,” Roy said, the mattress dipping beneath his weight.

“No. Now.”

“You look tired.”

Jamie shook his head. He wasn’t tired. He was comfortable, pliant and loose. Relaxed. But that didn’t mean the need had faded. It was sharper than ever, the heat that started in his belly now radiating through him.

“Jamie.” Roy smoothed his hand down Jamie’s back. “Do you want to do this because of what you said before?”

It took Jamie a moment for his brain to catch up with the question. He opened his eyes and Roy was watching him with an oddly serious expression. “No. I want to do this because I want you.”

“I just want you to be sure because it can feel…pretty intense if you’re new to it.”

“I feel intense.” Jamie hoped that would be enough of an explanation because he felt like he was going to crawl out of his skin if Roy wasted any more time.

Roy smiled at that, the corners of his eyes crinkling and the heavy frown disappearing from his eyebrows and Jamie felt such an intense feeling of love that he almost choked on it. And then he realized he didn’t have to choke, didn’t have to try speak around it without blurting it out. “I love you so much.”

Roy brushed the back of his knuckles across Jamie’s cheek. “I love you, too, pretty boy. Alright, let’s get you ready.”

“What do I do?”

“Lay there and tell me if there’s something you don’t like.”

“Sure thing, Coach.”

Jamie wasn’t the least bit worried that he would have to say anything at all. Roy wouldn’t do something he didn’t like. And he started with something Jamie liked a lot, the teasing flutter of Roy’s warm tongue against his skin, light at first. So light it was almost annoying, just a tickle of pressure that had Jamie lifting his hips, pushing for more. And Roy gave him more, pushing his tongue deeper, stroking in and out until Jamie was squirming, hips gyrating over the smooth sheet, his cock full and heavy, moans rumbling through his chest. He completely lost track of time, and then lost all coherent thought. He barely even noticed when Roy’s tongue disappeared, replaced by the easy slide of his finger. Roy added a second finger, and then a third, and Jamie was aware of the changing sensation, his cock leaking with new arousal, his entire body aching for more.

The orgasm slammed through him without warning. He didn’t know it was coming until he was shouting with the force of his release, and there was a high-pitched sound in his ears, a sharp twang that might have been the vibration of his skull. He became aware of new sensations–the spreading dampness beneath him that was cool against his very flushed skin, the friction of Roy pumping his wrist, dragging his fingers back and forth over his rim, the sweat rolling down his flushed neck and face. He couldn’t feel Roy anywhere else, just his fingers, and he couldn’t hear Roy, either. He was outside of Jamie’s line of sight, and the pitch of Jamie’s moans changed, becoming a wordless complaint.

“I’m right here,” Roy said, and he was, right there, covering Jamie’s back, the slightly rough texture of his hair tickling him while Roy dropped kisses on Jamie’s neck and his ears and his jaw and everywhere else he could reach. Jamie lifted his hips from the bed and immediately felt Roy’s cock, warm and slick with lube slip between his cheeks. “Fuck Jamie. God you have no idea…”

At first Jamie only felt the pressure of Roy’s thick crown pressed to his hole, feeling hotter and softer and wider than his tongue. The aftershocks of his orgasm were still shaking through his body, making him twitch and shiver, and he jerked his hips again, and Roy moved at the same time. The stretch of his muscle around Roy’s cock was shocking, and Roy paused there, giving Jamie a chance to adjust, or maybe change his mind. But Jamie wasn’t going to change his mind about any of it.

“More,” Jamie gasped.

The burn of Roy thrusting his full length into Jamie was beyond any sensation Jamie had ever experienced. Roy’s arms slid under his as he settled his weight more evenly on Jamie’s back, and then he began to roll his hips, moaning in Jamie’s ear every time he clenched and released. When he trained with Roy there was always a moment when he thought he was done, too exhausted, too sore, too utterly spent to last for one more second, to take one more step. Roy wouldn’t let him stop then. He forced Jamie past that brink into a new physical reality, and as Roy started to move his hips faster, Jamie went past that brink. The prickles of stabbing heat under his skin finally eased, the hollow, needy feeling was gone, and he was moving perfectly with Roy.

“Come for me, pretty boy,” Roy murmured, his mouth so close Jamie could feel the heat of the words.

Jamie could only moan in response. He wanted to but that fourth one seemed completely out of reach, even though Jamie had never felt anything as good as Roy inside of him.

“One more.” Roy shifted his hips into a faster rhythm and Jamie gasped at the sudden change in intensity. He didn’t think he could possibly feel any better and now he couldn’t even catch his breath, the pleasure was so sharp.

“I…I…Roy…oh fuck.”

Roy changed the angle while Jamie was trying to form words, pushing himself up from Jamie’s back so the only contact was where their bodies joined. He was hitting Jamie’s prostate with every hard thrust and this was nothing like the feeling of his fingers. Lights were bursting behind Jamie’s eyes, and he wasn’t trying to speak anymore but he was still making noise. A lot of noise. The small part of Jamie that could still think wondered how long Roy could keep this up–but he knew Roy well enough now to know the answer. As long as it took.

Jamie didn’t know if it was that thought that did it, but his body buckled and he arched off the bed. He felt Roy’s arm under his chest and then instead of screaming into the pillow, he was staring at the wall, back against Roy’s chest. Roy pumped his hips and then froze, and Jamie realized he could feel Roy’s orgasm, the jerk of his cock deep inside, the sudden flood of warmth. Jamie sagged against Roy, completely unable to support his own weight, and he might have passed out because the next thing he knew, he was flat on his back and Roy was propped up on an elbow, watching him.

“That was pretty good, yeah?”

Roy smiled. “Yeah, I’d say pretty good. How are you feeling?”

“Me?” Jamie turned to his side, burying his face against Roy’s chest with a happy sigh. “I’m fucking great.” In fact, he didn’t think he could be any better.

#

When Jamie woke up, he was so fucking hungry he couldn’t even talk. Fortunately, Roy had anticipated that and was prepared with plenty of food. He fed Jamie a little at a time, which was very annoying, until his ravenous appetite started to subside and he realized if he had just gorged himself like he wanted, he would definitely be feeling sick. Then it was back to bed with Roy for more skull-rattling orgasms and when he woke up from that blissed out sleep, the curtains were pulled open and bright sunshine flooded the room. Bright, tropical sunshine because he was in Brazil.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Jamie muttered, kicking away the sheets that were tangled around his hips. “Fuck!”

“What’s wrong?” Roy asked from the doorway, an apple in his hand.

“I’ve got a fucking commercial shoot! What time is it? What day is it? Fuck where are my clothes.”

“Jamie, calm down. You’re not late.”

“What? Why? Am I already fired?”

“No, you’re not fired. You don’t have to be on set until tomorrow morning.”

Jamie stopped pacing. “How?”

Roy shrugged. “There was a delay. Happens all the time with these things.”

“But the delay was my fault! I’m the delay!”

“First of all, Jamie, you’re the fucking star and that comes with some perks. They’re not going to fire you for showing up late, but it doesn’t matter, because the delay isn’t your fault.”

“How do you even know that?”

Roy took a bite of his apple. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Did you pull strings? Do you have strings with Nike?”

“I know some people, yeah. Now get dressed, we’re going to be late.”

“Late to what?”

“It’s a surprise. Get ready.”

Jamie didn’t know if he could ever be more surprised than he was right then. It wasn’t just the Nike thing, it was all of the things up to that moment: Roy chartering a whole plane, Roy making him come until his brains dribbled out of his ears, Roy being there every time Jamie woke up, Roy looking so fucking fit in his black suit that Jamie couldn’t stand it. Wait. What was Roy doing in his black suit? Why was he dressed up?

After a quick shower and his full grooming routine, Jamie found his clothes all neatly put away in the closet, and he took some care getting dressed. If Roy was going to look that fucking fit, then Jamie needed to match that energy at the least, though it would have helped if he knew where the fuck they were going. He found Roy waiting for him on the couch, scrolling on his phone. Jamie didn’t even know where his fucking phone was. Bricked somewhere, no doubt.

“This okay?” Jamie asked.

Roy looked up and smiled. “Perfect. You’re gorgeous.” He stood and reached into his pocket. “Before I forget.”

“My phone!”

“That thing never stops making noise.”

“Not my fault I’m pretty and popular.” Jamie was happy to have it back, but he put it in his pocket without looking at it. There wasn’t anything so urgent it couldn’t wait a few more hours. “Where are we going?”

“Do you struggle with the concept of a surprise?”

“I want to know!”

“You’ll know soon enough,” Roy said, taking his hand. Which was a completely new development. And he didn’t let go either, not in the corridor, and not in the lift, and not in the hotel lobby. He only let go when they reached the sleek black limo and he opened the door, gesturing for Jamie to get inside.

There was a bottle of champagne chilling in a bucket of ice, and Roy reached for it as soon as he pulled the door closed behind him. He studied the label for a moment before giving his nod of approval and then popped the cork and filled two glasses. “Here you are.”

“What’s this?”

“It’s champagne, Jamie. You drink it.”

“I know what it is, you twat. I mean, why are we drinking champagne?”

“I always thought it was a nice way to start a date.” Roy drank down half his glass. “You know, romantic.”

“Romantic,” Jamie repeated, feeling dazed even though he hadn’t even sipped his drink yet. Roy was trying to be romantic with him? “We’re on a date?”

“Yeah. Got reservations and everything. Had the concierge do it, but he seemed like he knew what he was doing so it shouldn’t be too bad.” Roy looked vaguely uncomfortable. “Did you want to stay in?”

“No! I mean–” Jamie slammed his drink back in a single swallow and then threw himself into Roy’s arms, enthusiastically covering his face with kisses.

“Hey, careful! Let me finish my drink here.”

They snogged for the entire drive to the restaurant, and it was fucking brilliant. The restaurant was brilliant, too, with romantic lighting and a live band, and there was a bouquet of flowers waiting for Jamie at the table. Roy reached over and took his hand once they were seated, absently brushing his thumb back and forth over Jamie’s knuckles and it was so distracting Jamie didn’t even glance at the menu. His head was spinning and he felt giddy, like he might start laughing at any second, like he was already drunk from just the one glass of champagne.

“Do you know what you want?” Roy looked up and saw Jamie’s menu, closed on the table, and Jamie smiling dopeily at him. “Do you want me to order?”

“Yeah. Whatever you’re having is fine.”

Roy was so relaxed and pleasant while talking to the waiter that it was like watching a stranger. A really handsome, happy stranger. Jamie loved Roy no matter what, even when he was being a grumpy twat and bitching about the lighting bill and Jamie’s boots in the hallway, but if he wasn’t already in love, this completely charming and not-grumpy version of Roy would have done him in. It occurred to Jamie how much he was going to miss him, and that was enough to deflate his mood.

“What’s wrong?” Roy asked as the waiter walked away with their order.

“Nothing,” Jamie answered quickly. “I mean, this is all great. I’m just going to miss you, is all. When are you going back?”

“I’m staying here with you.”

Jamie perked up. “Really? But I thought you had a lot of work to do.”

“Beard and Nate can handle it, and if anybody has a problem with me taking a holiday they can go fuck themselves. Alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, fucking mint.”

Roy took his hand again, and Jamie thought he would very much like to get used to that. He imagined the two of them walking into Nelson Road hand-in-hand, and the visual was so absurd and so wonderful, it made his heart flutter.

“Jamie, I am sorry.”

“For what? This is fucking perfect.”

“For not doing it sooner.”

“We’re here now, aint we? That’s all that matters to me. Can we do this again?”

“Eat dinner?”

“Yeah, you know, go out like this. When we’re home.”

“Anywhere you want.”

“You don’t care if people see us?”

“Why would I give a fuck?” The question sounded sincere, like Roy really didn’t know why he should care about anybody seeing them together. “If anybody has a problem with the two of us being together, they can go fuck themselves, too, yeah?”

“Fucking right they can.”

“In fact.” Roy’s hand disappeared from his, much to Jamie’s disappointment, and he pulled the phone from his jacket pocket.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m…” He leaned over Jamie’s shoulder and held the phone in front of them. “Taking a picture.” He pressed his lips against Jamie’s cheek and there was the flash and clicking of the camera app. “This good?”

Roy was shit at taking pictures, and Jamie’s eyes were half closed, but his hair was alright, and even with Roy turned away from the camera, you could still see how fit he was. “It’s good, yeah.”

“Good.”

Roy settled back in his chair, but he didn’t put his phone away. His fingers tapped over the screen and then Jamie’s phone vibrated in his pocket. When he checked the screen, he saw that Roy Kent tagged him in a picture. No other caption or hashtag, but the image didn’t need any further explanation. The message came through, loud and clear.