Work Text:
Roy doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing, but he sure is fucking doing it. They’d announced him as Richmond’s newest head coach just a couple of days ago and he’s called a meeting with Beard and Nate to start working on the upcoming preseason training.
If he’s being honest, it’s mostly because he’s bored since Jamie had fucked off to fucking Monaco or Marbella or Miami, fucking something with an M and a lot of sun and fit naked people.
Roy is not fucking pathetic and he can be away from the twat for a couple of weeks, no matter what his sister says.
Jesus Christ, he’s never been bothered with friends and he’s definitely never cared about talking to someone so much that he wasn’t sleeping with or didn’t want to sleep with. Fucking Jamie Tartt.
“Are you sure you want me back?”
Nate cuts into Roy’s thoughts, which is fine. He has more important things to worry about than Jamie Tartt not needing him at the moment.
“You’re good at the things I’m shit at,” is all Roy offers up.
Beard comes in, looking relaxed and freshly honeymooned. Roy feels like something’s fucking missing. Maybe it’s just the news of the locker room. Maybe it’s Ted and his folksy American bullshit.
It certainly must be one of the two.
++++
“What the fuck are you doing here? How did you even find out where I live?” Roy blinks, considering the idea of just slamming the door in Trent’s face.
“Ah, I might have asked Keeley when she, Rebecca, and I were slightly drunk on red wine and having a bit of girl talk.” Trent half smiles. “Sorry to bother, but I have a favour to ask.”
“So you came to my fucking house at 8pm on a Tuesday while I’m on holiday?”
“This is a holiday?”
“Fuck off.” Roy steps aside so he can come in, anyway. “What do you need?”
“Ah, well, I was wondering if you’d take a look at my book? Keeley says you like to read, and I’d really like someone to write a foreword for me. Since Ted has gone, and you’re taking over as manager at Richmond - but if not, I suppose I could ask Coach Beard.”
Roy can tell he’s intimidating Trent.
Good.
“Do you have it with you?”
“I was pretty sure you’d say no.”
Roy grunts. His reputation definitely precedes him, and he’s glad for it. He likes being a mystery, likes knowing people don’t want to get close for fear of getting the brunt of his anger at himself. He’s working on that with Sharon.
Really.
“I’ll drop by the club and give it to you tomorrow.”
“Fine.”
“You are a man of few words, aren’t you?”
“That’s why you’re the fucking writer and I’m just the shit ex-football player.”
“And AFC Richmond’s newest head coach,” Trent says, as if he’s letting Roy in on something he didn’t already fucking know. Fucking prick.
“Fuck off, Crimm.”
Trent hums to himself.
“Right, well, I’m just going to see myself out.” He smiles tightly and nods.
It takes a few minutes after he’s gone for Roy to realize what was actually missing this afternoon in the office.
++++
Roy drops his bag by his desk and notices there’s a thick stack of papers sitting on his desk with a sticky note on it.
Feel free to be honest if you hate it. I can handle it. Trent.
Roy lets out a gruff laugh. Of course the prick had stopped by before Roy had even gotten in. Arsehole.
++++
“Roy-o!” Jamie has fucking let himself into Roy’s fucking house.
Roy had just settled in with Trent’s manuscript and a glass of wine.
“When the fuck did you get a key?” Roy looks at him sideways as Jamie plops down on his sofa next to him.
“Nicked yours and made one the last time we were out at the shops, didn’t I?” Jamie shrugs. “What the fuck are you reading?”
“None of your fucking business.”
“Fuck off, Roy-o.” Jamie grins. “Aren’t you going to ask me about Milan?”
“I knew it started with an M.”
“Fuck off.” Jamie laughs. “Well.”
“Well fucking what?”
“Ask me about my holiday because you’re my fucking friend, and you want to know. Dick.”
“How was your trip, Tartt? Roy has to try very hard to sound as uninterested as he does. He doesn’t want to give Jamie the satisfaction.
“Fucking brilliant. Did you know how fit everyone is in Italy? Fucking hell, so many girls, so many boys, so little time.”
Ever since Jamie had confided in Roy that he’s bisexual he has spared no fucking details. Roy needs more wine.
“So very glad you had fun fucking your way around Italy.”
Jamie wiggles his eyebrows. “Nah, though, it was fun. You should have come with me so we could get that fucking stick out of your arse and get you over Keeley once and for all. Did wonders for me. But you know, I’m young and fit and you’re just a grandad.” Jamie grins. Sometimes Roy has no fucking idea how this prick became someone he couldn’t live without.
“Why did you come here? Was it just to insult me?”
“Didn’t you miss me?” He bats his eyelashes. “Fine, fucker. I’m sleeping in your guest room. Read your fucking book. Drink your fucking wine.” Jamie kicks his feet up onto the sofa and folds them under himself and then turns on Roy’s tv.
Roy doesn’t even think about asking him to leave.
Mother fucker.
++++
Trent’s book is good.
It tells the story of Richmond and Ted Lasso in a compelling way that makes Roy want to keep reading, even though he was there and he already knows every fucking detail. It only takes Roy a few days to get through it all.
He isn’t about to say that to Trent.
He finds Trent’s name in his phone and opens a new message. He’s never fucking texted Trent Crimm before, and he honestly doesn’t know when or why he got his number in the first place.
good book
He doesn’t really need to elaborate more than that.
Is that all?
Roy rolls his eyes.
good fucking book?
“Who the fuck are you texting?” Jamie sits down next to him and looks over his shoulder, but Roy manages to hide his phone and click the screen off before he sees that it’s Trent. He doesn’t know why he doesn’t want Jamie to know he’s texting fucking Crimm. It’s not like he hadn’t told Jamie he was reading his book.
“None of my business, fuck me, dickhead. Whatever.” Jamie rolls his eyes. “Have a secret fucking girlfriend or whatever. I don’t give a fuck.” Jamie rests solidly against Roy’s side. It’s always nice.
Roy likes the closeness.
“You know, you have your own fucking house.”
“So? My house is boring. I like your house. Besides, if you’re going to have me up at fucking 3:30 in the morning all year it’s easier if I just sleep here.”
“You are not fucking moving in and bringing dates and shit here, Tartt. Go home.”
“You’d miss me.” Jamie grins. “Anyway, I don’t mind if you wanna fuck someone with me right down the hall. Feel free to bring anyone home anytime you want.”
“Yes, thank you for giving me permission to fuck someone in my own house.”
“Untwist your knickers, grandad.” Jamie grins. “Your face is so red. You definitely want to fuck someone.”
“I fucking hate you.”
Roy doesn’t even want to fuck anyone. He hasn’t even seen anyone that wasn’t work related in fucking weeks.
Maybe that’s the fucking problem.
“Nah, you love me.” Jamie flicks his cheek.
“Fuck off.” Roy grunts. He will never fucking admit that he loves the fucker. He suspects Jamie might not need the confirmation from the way he sticks his tongue out, flips Roy off, and goes into the kitchen to make himself even more at home.
++++
“Heya, Roy!” Roy jumps when he hears Ted’s voice and then looks around. “Don’t worry there, I’m not here to take your job back.”
“He’s on the computer, Roy.” Nate points at where Beard is talking to Ted on Zoom.
“Fuck, this is a fucking nightmare.”
“Oh, it’s not that bad.” Ted laughs. There’s something different about him that Roy can’t place. Maybe it’s just that he’s on a fucking screen thousands of miles away and not here with his fucking friends. “Just having a little bit of a catch up with Willis here.”
“Who the fuck is Willis?”
Beard is glaring at the screen with betrayal. Roy is definitely going to remember this for later. He files it away.
“Anyway, congratulations on the new job there, Coach Kent. I knew you had it in you.”
“We haven’t fucking played a match yet. Could still fall on my fucking face, get fired, and end up having to let Jamie fucking Tartt move into my house and pay half the utilities.” Everyone is looking at him like he sprouted a second head. “Never fucking mind.”
“Right then, I have to go. Henry has a soccer game.” Roy cringes at hearing Ted call it soccer. He’s properly back in fucking America now, obviously. “Talk soon.” Ted disconnects as Roy sits down at his desk.
He hadn’t bothered to move it, so it’s still backed up against Beard’s, while Nate has his own. It’s fucking weird not to have four people in here. It feels oddly empty.
He puts his phone on his desk upside down and remembers that he’d not ever gotten a reply from Trent last night. Fucking Jamie.
“You okay, Coach?” Beard breaks into Roy’s thoughts.
When he looks up Beard and Nate are sharing a look that Roy can’t read and doesn’t understand.
“Nope. Let’s look at these potential signings.”
Roy’s phone is forgotten again, as they start arguing the merits of signing a new defender from Ajax.
++++
Are you hungry?
Training starts tomorrow and he’s just gotten done with work. He doesn’t want to go home and deal with fucking Jamie Tartt, but he also actually is hungry, and the first person he thinks of is fucking Trent.
Have you been drinking, Roy?
Fuck off, Crimm. Forget I asked.
Roy grunts and gets into his car, leaving the phone open. He isn’t waiting for a response to turn the car on because that would be fucking stupid.
I didn’t say no
Roy lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He sends Trent an address and turns on the car. He sighs and shoots Jamie a text telling him he’s going to be late because he fucking knows the little shit is at his house and he doesn’t want him to worry. Fuck. Roy’s life is a fucking mess.
++++
Roy’s already sitting in the booth at the kebab shop long before Trent arrives. The bell above the door rings and Trent walks in, looking around curiously. He’s still such a fucking reporter sometimes.
Trent slides into the booth in front of Roy.
“I have to admit, there was a point where I thought you’d sent me a fake address.”
“Why the fuck would I do that?” Trent opens his mouth to answer. “Don’t fucking answer that.” Roy grunts. “This place is fucking sacred, and I don’t tell anyone about it.”
“So you brought me here.” Trent looks skeptical. Roy really doesn’t blame him.
“I guess I did, yeah.” He scratches at his beard. “Where did you get that bracelet you always wear that looks like a 12 year old made it at a sleepover?” Roy just wants to change the fucking subject.
“My daughter made it, and she’ll be happy to know you think she’s as sophisticated as 12. She’s only 5.”
“Right.” Roy looks up at the ceiling. He has no fucking idea what he was thinking. “Your book was good.”
“Fucking good is what I believe you said in your text.”
Roy grunts in agreement.
“Have you thought about what you’re going to say in your foreword?”
“No.” Roy hears his phone buzz. He itches to answer it just to do something with his hands, but it feels rude to do that with Trent in front of him. He tries not to think too much about that. “When do you need it?”
“The publisher will want it in the next couple of weeks.”
Roy nods. Right, he can do that.
“What are you doing for work now anyway? Now that you’re not sneaking around Richmond making fucking notes of all our weird behavior?”
“Other than editing and preparing a book for publishing and scheduling signings and - “
“I fucking get it.” Roy growls a little. “Nate’s all alone in our office. It’s fucking weird only having four. If you wanted to work on your editing and shit in the office that would probably be okay.”
“Right.”
“You don’t fucking have to if you don’t want to.”
Roy doesn’t know why he doesn’t know how to be nice to people when he likes them. Not that he fucking likes Trent. He doesn’t fucking like Trent. He definitely doesn’t miss having him around the office. That would be fucking pathetic.
His phone buzzes again, speaking of pathetic. He fucking knows it’s Jamie.
“I might take you up on that offer, Coach Kent.”
Roy likes the way the title falls out of Trent’s lips. It’s not condescending. It’s nice. Roy breathes because he definitely remembers how to do that.
“What’s your daughter’s name?”
If Trent thinks the subject change is odd, he doesn’t say so.
“Amelia.”
“Where is she now?”
“With her mum. Uh, my ex-wife. She lives there most of the time.”
“Didn’t work out?”
Roy isn’t fucking stupid. He knows like most people Trent is gay, or at least, that seems to be the way he’s presenting himself to most of the club. At least Roy thinks so. Fuck, why does it matter.
“No.” Trent laughs. “No, she wasn’t really my type, we found.”
“What’s your type then?” Roy feels a smile that he didn’t really intend. He fucking hates his life. Trent is going to think he’s flirting.
He’s not flirting.
“Ah, well. That is the question, isn’t it?” Trent looks him in the eyes. “Someone told me you’re living with Jamie Tartt.”
Roy chokes on his kebab.
“I don’t know who the fuck told you that, but I am not living with Jamie fucking Tartt.” His phone buzzes again and they both look at it. “Fuck.” He snorts. “He won’t fucking go away. He just kind of stays at my fucking house and I can’t - “ Roy sighs. “I don’t want to make him leave. But we’re not living together, not like that, and I don’t fucking know who told you we were but they are very very wrong.”
Roy has an idea of who told Trent he was living with Jamie, and he also knows where she got that idea, and he’s going to fucking kill Jamie for it because he doesn’t fucking live in Roy’s house.
He doesn’t.
“Right.”
“If you thought I was living with Jamie, why did you show up tonight?”
Trent raises an eyebrow.
“Was there any reason you having a partner would prevent us from having a meal together?”
“No. Fuck, no.” Roy grunts and pushes his kebab away from him. “Fuck. I should go. I’ll get that foreword to you soon.” He stands and drops enough money for both of their meals, even though Trent hadn’t even ordered anything yet.
He tries to ignore the feeling of Trent’s eyes on his back as he leaves.
++++
“TARTT!!!!”
“Fuck, I’m right here.” Jamie looks up from the sofa.
“Did you fucking tell Keeley we’re fucking living together as in fucking like…fucking and shit?”
“What the fuck? No! I mean, I guess I told her I had moved in maybe?”
“You don’t live here.” Roy sighs. “Fuck, can you like, tell Keeley we’re not fucking.”
“Do I have to leave?”
“No, Jamie. You don’t have to leave. You fucking know I like having you here, but she’s implying to people I’m interested in that we’re living together or like, fucking whatever.”
“So you are interested in someone! I fucking knew it! Is it that fit Bex girl I took to the gala that time? She’s divorcing Rupert, you know. I bet she’d be up for it.”
“Jamie.” Roy lets out a breath. “Fuck. Can you just tell Keeley we aren’t fucking?”
“You know, if I didn’t know you loved me in a we’re-fucking-soulmates-but-platonically way I’d be fucking insulted.”
Roy pinches the bridge of his nose.
“We are not soulmates.”
“Platonically! Keeley taught me this like, thing, you know, like, queerplatonic is a thing! Gonna spend my life with you, Roy Kent. You can’t get rid of me.”
“We are not - that’s not - “ Roy doesn’t know what some of those words mean, and he’s too tired to ask Jamie to explain. “As long as you don’t care if I fuck someone else.”
“Whatever you want, Roy!” Jamie jumps on him for a hug. Roy, miraculously doesn’t push him away.
“I’m not even - wait, how fuck did you know I was queer? I didn’t even know until like two weeks ago.”
Jamie just grins like a twat.
“You wouldn’t keep it from me if you wanted to fuck a girl, really. Come on. The way you hid your phone the other day.” He laughs. “Hope your new boyfriend is okay with me always being around and being first in your heart.”
“Please fuck off. I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“Well, then he’s a fucking idiot. You’re a catch, Kent. Anyway, I’m renting my place out, by the way. Moved most of my stuff in when you weren’t paying attention.”
“Jamie, you can’t just move in with people without permission.”
“Did, didn’t I?”
“Fuck you.”
Jamie grins a little, hugs him again, and then goes back into the living room. Roy has no idea when he lost control of his fucking life.
++++
“And then he said we were fucking queerplatonic life partners or some shit, and I had to google that when I went up to bed.”
Roy drags his hand over his face and taps his foot. He’s sitting across from Sharon, having his bi-weekly session. He really needs it this week.
“And what do you think of that?”
“Fucking angry because he’s fucking right. One day I hated the little shit, and the next day he’s moved all his shit into my guest room and rented out his house, and we’re fucking platonic life partners or some shit, and I have a fucking crush on Trent fucking Crimm, and for some reason I can’t even talk to him about it because I think he’ll make fun of me.”
“Do you really think he’ll make fun of you?” Sharon gives him a challenging look.
“No. Fuck. Probably not, not if he thought it was really serious.” Roy rubs his hair. “I fucking, like, fuck.”
“It’s okay. You’re dealing with a lot.”
“Jamie Tartt can fuck right off.”
“You love Jamie Tartt.” He hates her. She looks so fucking amused. He just grunts. “Listen, Roy. First of all, Jamie is your best friend - apparently your partner, so trust him. Talk to him. But also, think about what that means if you’re getting into a relationship. You have to be honest with Trent as well.”
“Fuck.”
“Fuck is a good way of putting it.” She smiles. “Time’s up.”
“Of course. Time’s fucking up.”
++++
“Jamie?” Roy drops his keys on the table and pokes his head into the living room, but Jamie isn’t there.
“Kitchen!”
“Right.” Roy goes into the kitchen, and Jamie is cooking. “What are you doing?”
“Making food.” Jamie smiles a little. “I felt a bit shit about yesterday? I feel like I sprung things on you, and we didn’t really talk about things. It was a bit shit of me.” He clears his throat. “Are you okay with all of that?”
“Jamie.” Roy laughs a little. He walks over and hugs Jamie tight. “You’re not fucking wrong. It just happened when I wasn’t paying attention, and I do fucking want you here. You’re right. This - whatever the fuck - I love you, and I fucking missed you when you were away. Whatever this is between us, it’s important, and you were right.”
“Cool.” Jamie has this dopey smile on his face. “It’s a kind of relationship. Keeley was helping me figure out how I felt, cos like, I was like I don’t want to fuck him, or like, even kiss him or anything but I want to be around him all the fucking time. It’s like - “
“Yeah, I get it. But we can date other people, yeah?”
“Fuck yeah. Roy, I love you, but I’m not going to stop having sex because I don’t want to have sex with you.”
Roy snorts.
“Of fucking course.” Roy rolls his eyes. “Can we be fucking serious and can I ask you something that you promise you won’t make fun of me for.”
“Alright. I’ll do my best.”
“I guess that’s all I can fucking ask for.”
“I have a crush on fucking Trent Crimm.”
Jamie opens his mouth and then closes it and then opens it again and then starts laughing.
“Fuck off. I asked you not to make fun of me!”
“I told you I’d do my best.” He grins and then clears his throat. “Right, so you want to fuck Trent Crimm, the Independent.”
“He’s not a reporter anymore.”
“Right.”
“Fuck off, Jamie. I need your advice.”
“I mean, you’re Roy Kent?” Jamie just kind of raises his hands in a shrug. “If you want to fuck someone and they don’t want to fuck you, that’s their fucking problem.”
“You don’t want to fuck me.”
“You don’t want to fuck me either!”
“Okay, fair fucking point.” Roy sighs. “His book is so fucking good. And he asked me to write the fucking foreword, and I feel like - fuck we shared this fucking office last year right, and I fucking miss seeing his fucking pretentious fucking face and his stupid fucking graphic t-shirts and rainbow fucking mug every fucking day, and he thinks we’re fucking!”
“Are you going to be honest about me and you?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay.” Jamie pauses. “Tell him, Roy-o. If he doesn’t like you back it’s his fucking loss.”
“Right.” Roy nods. “Right.”
“Now, get ready, Roy. Because I’ve made us a good fucking meal.”
++++
Roy stays up that night writing his foreword, and then he texts Trent asking if he’s coming to the office tomorrow.
He tries not to smile too much when Trent says he’ll be there.
++++
“What’s he doing here?” Beard looks at Trent with a skeptical eyebrow.
“I told him he could work on his editing here. Thought we could use a fourth. Besides.” Roy clears his throat. “I thought we could have a diamond dogs meeting.”
“Roy? Calling a Diamond Dogs meeting!” Beard starts texting and boots up his computer and it’s not long before Ted’s smiling face is on the computer. Higgins runs in in a t-shirt and sweatpants. Roy doesn’t know how he got here so fast.
“Right.”
“Right.” They all start howling while Roy just lets out a quiet bark. “Right, so full disclosure, I have entered into a queerplatonic relationship with Jamie Tartt. He’s living with me. We’re not fucking, nor will we ever fuck, and it won’t cause problems at work because you fucking know I’ll never give that prick special treatment.” He looks around like he’s daring anyone to argue, and they don’t.
“And, I need advice.”
“About Jamie?”
“No, unfortunately things are too fucking easy with that fucking arsehole.” Roy sighs. “It appears that I want to date someone - a man.”
“But didn’t you just say you’re in a relationship with Jamie?” Nate tilts his head.
“It’s an open relationship.”
“Hm.” Higgins just nods.
“Right, can we move past Jamie and talk about how I’m attracted to men - a man. Not many men. Fuck, I’m new at this.”
“Just ask him out,” Beard shrugs.
“I tried and then Jamie fucking Tartt ruined it like he does everything. Telling fucking Keeley that we’re living together and shit.”
“Didn’t you just say you are living together, Roy?” Ted pipes up.
“We are, but that’s not the point. It’s not like that.”
“So, ask him again.” Trent isn’t looking at Roy. In fact, he looks completely uninterested in a way that makes everyone sit up a little straighter and look between them. “If you explain the situation, and he likes you enough, he’ll be fine.”
“Right. Yeah, ask him again.”
“Trent’s right, if you like him, just tell him Jamie isn’t part of the equation here. Of course, make sure he knows Jamie is important because one time I was in a polycule and - “ Roy cuts Beard off.
“I don’t fucking have time to google what polycule means right now, Coach.”
He can see Trent looking down, trying to hide a smile, and he tries to ignore the swooping feeling in his stomach. He fucking hates having a crush. He hates fucking all of his.
“Right, meeting adjourned. Bye, Ted. We have work today.” He reaches over and closes Beard’s laptop. “Higgins, go put real clothes on, seeing you so relaxed is fucking with my perception of reality. Beard, Nate, get to fucking work. Trent, bootroom.”
Beard’s eyebrows go up to his hairline, and Nate looks like he’s going to say something so Roy runs out before he can.
At least he fucking knows Will won’t be here.
“Right, so.”
“So.” Trent looks too amused for Roy’s comfort.”
“Jamie and me - “
“Platonic life partners, right? If only I had time to put this into my book. The fans would love it.”
“Fuck you, you can’t write about my fucking love life in your book, Crimm.”
“No, I suppose not.”
“Will you go out with me?” Roy knows he needs to do it before he changes his mind again. “Jamie is really fucking important to me, and he’ll fucking always be there and I promise he’s so fucking annoying, but I’m worth it.”
“Is that so?”
“I am.” Roy sighs. “At least I’m trying to fucking believe I am. I’m shit at this. But I’m working on it. I am fucking working on it.”
“Listen, you have your baggage in the form of Jamie Tartt. I have to be honest, I’m getting over what was a pretty big crush on someone who left without much of a goodbye at all, and I - “
Roy cuts him off because he just wants to fucking kiss him. He’s been thinking about it for ages now, and he can’t stop himself.
“Right, so.” Trent clears his throat. “I think we should do that again because, you know, as a writer I really like to do my research before I make any decisions.”
Roy kisses him again, walking him back so he can press him against the door. He rests his hands on Trent’s hips and then Trent’s arms go around his neck, and Roy feels like this is what he’s been missing for a while.
“Right.” Trent clears his throat. “About that dinner.”
++++
“So, you’re here to pick Roy up.” Jamie grins. “I think I need to have a talk about intentions.”
“Fuck off, Tartt.” Roy comes down the stairs. He’s pulled out all the stops and he knows he looks good.
He and Trent have been going out since just before the season started, but this is the first time he’s been allowed to pick Roy up from the house. Specifically because Jamie Tartt is a fucking twat. He’s just lucky he’d made Jamie promise to behave at work.
“Don’t fucking wait up, Tartt.” Roy flips him off.
“Now Roy, we talked about your curfew!”
“Not coming home tonight!” Roy had decided a long time ago that any spending the night would be around Trent’s, at least until Jamie finds someone to stay over with. He is not going to deal with whatever Jamie would do to fuck with him while he’s in bed with Trent.
Roy closes the door with a thud and pulls Trent in for a kiss, one hand on his hip, the other on his neck. His hair is up in a tight bun. He looks fucking good.
“Special occasion.”
“It’s not that big of a deal.” Trent laughs.
“Fuck off. The book comes out tomorrow. It’s a huge fucking deal. Don’t be a prick.”
“You have said before that I’ve always been a prick.”
“Well, I’m also a prick.” Roy shrugs. “I never claimed not to be.” He smiles. “Get in the car.”
“Very sexy, the whole bossy thing.”
“I’ve heard that before.” Roy hops in the drivers’ side and turns on the engine.” He lets out a breath. “Hey.”
“Yes, Roy?”
“You know, I - “ He laughs and scratches at his beard. “Fuck.”
“You…fuck? Yes, I do know that.”
“No, fuck you.” He flips him off. “I didn’t think I’d find this with anyone, and my last - I was shit with Keeley, I’m sure she’s told you during your fucking girl talk nights. But I’m really fucking trying with you. I just want you to know that.”
“I do know that, Roy.” Trent reaches across the center and brushes his thumb over Roy’s ear. “Look at me.” Roy looks right over at him, and Trent answers with a kiss. “I know about fucking things up. I was fully married to a woman before I realized I was gay. We’re working on it together.”
“Yeah,” Roy nods. “Yeah, working on it together.”
“Now, come on. We have reservations, and you’re paying because we’re celebrating my book release.”
“I thought you said it wasn’t that big of a deal, you fucker?”
“I’m humoring you, really.” Trent has this way of smiling where it’s only fucking bright in his eyes and it makes Roy want to touch his mouth and kiss him and hold him always. Roy starts driving instead.
++++
A brief foreword by Roy Kent:
Trent, you’ve always been a colossal prick. But this is a good fucking book, and any AFC Richmond fan will love it. Go Greyhounds.