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Jamie couldn’t remember throwing the punch. He couldn’t remember what his dad or Beard said as he threw James out of the locker room. He couldn’t remember what the lads did in the direct aftermath, either. His vision had tunneled, and he couldn’t focus on anything other than the pounding in his own head and the throbbing of his knuckles.
He did remember Roy. He remembered Roy marching over very pointedly, he remembered the fear that he felt for just a moment when he was in arms reach, shoulders hunching as Roy reached out, and he remembered the warmth of being in Roy’s arms. The feeling of safety and security and comfort. He remembered feeling so secure that he let himself cry, let himself sob into the older man’s shoulder.
He remembered Roy leading him into the showers and helping him get his kit off. He remembered Roy pushing him under the warm spray of the shower. He remembered washing off the sweat and grime of the match, the touch, and breath of his father, and getting dressed in the clothes that Roy left on the bench for him.
Finally, he remembered Roy waiting for him in the locker room, silently leading him out to the waiting bus. He remembered they took two seats in the back, Jamie next to the window and Roy on the aisle. He remembered they just sat together, silently. He remembered the exhaustion of the day as the conversation with his dad caught up to him and Jamie let his head loll to the side, falling onto Roy’s shoulder as his eyes fluttered shut.
When he finally gained consciousness again, they were back at Nelson Road, the bus pulling into the lot. Jamie sat up, taking his weight off Roy’s shoulder and licking his lips nervously. Despite the movement of the rest of the team around them, Roy and Jamie sat silent and still, watching the rest of the lads filter off the bus. When they were alone bar Kenneth up in the front, Roy finally spoke.
“Get your bag and put it in my car.” Jamie furrowed his brows.
“I can-”
“You’re staying with me tonight,” Roy said simply. “We don’t know if your jackoff of a father is going to try something else, so you’re staying with me. At least for tonight.” Roy’s tone was so final that Jamie didn’t want to try and argue, sure that if he put up a fuss, Roy would just throw him over his shoulder and carry him off the bus.
“Okay,” Jamie nodded. Roy stood, and let Jamie get off the bus first, going to speak with Lasso and Beard. Jamie did as he was told, taking his bag from Will and heading over to Roy’s Mercedes. He tried the back door and found that it was already unlocked so he tossed his bag in, a bit confused about the pink child’s seat but was too tired to really question it. He slid into the front and rested his head against the window as he waited for Roy.
The words his father said, the words his father yelled and whispered were flicking through his brain, one after another, over and over again. That he was soft, that he was a pussy, that he was a disappointment and James deserved a better son and -
“Oi,” Roy broke through his train of thoughts, startling Jamie just a bit. “Get out of your head. Whatever it’s telling you ain’t true.”
“How do you know it ain’t true?” Jamie asked petulantly.
“Because I know you, and I know you’re just repeating everything your piece of shit father has ever told you and I know that it ain’t true.”
“A year ago you would agree with him. Six months ago, you’d agree with him,” Jamie argued, crossing his arms.
“No, I wouldn’t have agreed with him. I’d’ve said you’re a right prick and a muppet to boot, and that you’re arrogant and self-centered, but I wouldn’t agree with whatever shit he was spilling,” Roy countered, not taking his eyes off Jamie. Jamie swallowed heavily and didn’t say anything else - he wasn’t sure what he could say. Roy had never been so blunt or honest with him before.
They didn’t say anything the entire drive back to Roy’s house, the radio playing quietly, some poppy kids' station. Once they were at the house, Roy handed Jamie his keys, specifically giving him the ones to the house, instructing him to go in and head upstairs while Roy grabbed the bags.
Jamie did as he was told, but froze once he got to the top of the landing. Where did Roy want him to go now? Surely he didn’t mean his bedroom, but he didn’t know which was Roy’s and which were guest rooms, and he didn’t want to peek into any of them to check. He waited awkwardly, fiddling with the keys as he waited. Only a few moments passed before Roy was stomping up the stairs, heading into the room opposite. Jamie waited just a moment before following him in - it was obviously Roy’s own bedroom. The colors were dark and muted, and it was simple, but obviously lived in. There were some dirty clothes in a hamper near the closet, there was a half-burned candle on the dresser, and a stack of books on the bedside table.
“Get in bed,” Roy instructed and Jamie gaped a little.
“This bed? Your bed?” Jamie asked. “You want me to get in your bed?”
“That’s what I said, innit?” Roy raised a brow. “Get in.” Jamie nodded a little and carefully climbed into the bed, settling down on the right side. He watched as Roy walked into the bathroom, flipping the light off in the bedroom as he went. Jamie moved down until he lay flat on his back, head on the pillow. He listened as Roy puttered about in the bathroom, and all Jamie could think about was how much he didn’t want to lose this. He wanted to be able to do this night after night, laying here, waiting for Roy. Jamie turned onto his side, watching the doorway, biting his lip.
“Oi,” Roy said and stuck his head through the doorway. “You need anything?”
“No,” Jamie said quietly. “I’m good. But uh…can I ask you something?” Roy grunted. “Why am I here?”
“I told you, who the fuck knows what your dad is gonna do-”
“No, I mean, here. In your bed. I’m sure any of those other rooms have a bed in them, so why am I in yours?” Jamie sniffled a little, looking down at the pillow. Roy was silent for a long moment, and Jamie finally moved to get off the bed. He knew he should have kept his mouth shut, knew that if he said anything he would fuck it up. “Right, sorry, I’ll just get out of here.”
“No, stop,” Roy protested, moving further into the room. “I…I want you to stay.”
“But why?” Jamie clenched his fists. “I just…I can’t be jerked around, Roy. If you want something, you need to tell me, or if you don’t want anything and this is just you pitying me because of me Dad, then just say that.”
“It’s not fucking pity. I…care about you, Jamie. And I’m not good with words, so I can’t explain how or why like Keeley could and I’m sorry for that. But I want you here because I want you here.” Jamie took a moment to take in Roy’s words, going over them back and forth in his brain.
“Okay,” Jamie nodded and moved to lay back down, Roy flipping the light off in the bathroom to join him. “Can you…would it be too much if you held me?”
“Get the fuck over here,” Roy held his arm open and Jamie moved so he was tucked into Roy’s chest, letting out a small sigh as that feeling of security returned. Jamie let his eyes fall shut, drifting softly back to sleep as he felt Roy’s lips against his temple, whispering something sweetly against his skin.