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Jamie isn’t really sure when it began.
Amsterdam, probably. A seed was planted in the back of his mind when he taught Roy how to ride that bike, or when he was looking up at a windmill at 3 am, or when he shared something with Roy he hadn’t ever shared with anyone, except for Dr. Sharon.
Maybe it was when he was a kid, staring up at his Official signed Chelsea Star Roy Kent poster, after his matches in grade school, or as he was packing up to go to the academy. The one he cried under at night thinking about his piece of shit dad, wondering if he’ll ever be enough for him. Staring up at it, imagining Roy coming out of the poster and whisking him away, saving him from all the shit in his life.
Or maybe it was Wembley, his fist throbbing, eyes blind with tears, ears burning with embarrassment. Roy held Jamie like he was holding him together and Jamie knew that if he let go he’d fall apart.
The obsession probably formed when he was a child, Jamie thinks. At first it was fueled by adoration, then horniness, then hatred. Now it was fueled by something he can’t name, most likely caused by the fact that he spends every waking moment with Roy. He’s not sure when that started, either. Maybe after Brazil, after shooting the Nike ads with Barbara.
(Keeley decided it was best if she didn’t go, that they shouldn’t see each other for a while, which Jamie had to agree with. He’d really fucked up there, hadn’t he? He’s sure his chances of having another go at their relationship were officially done for good.
Roy and Jamie smoothed things over with her, only after apologizing profusely for acting like a couple of neanderthals, of course. It was hard for them to accept that they both lost their chances. But she forgave them, the bloody fucking saint that she is. They both know they’re gonna have to make up for it for the rest of their lives, regardless of her saying that she forgives them and that she’ll always love them.)
Jamie asked to start up their early morning training again towards the end of the off-season. Roy, for whatever reason, agreed to wake up at 4- fucking -am with him almost every morning despite the already overwhelming workload that comes with being head gaffer.
The training evolved to include breakfast afterwards, Roy fixing up some food for them while Jamie was showering in his expansive master bath. His shower was filled with expensive creams and conditioners, along with the new addition of Roy’s 3-in-1 that makes Jamie gag whenever he sees it.
Once preseason began, they started getting lunch in the cafe after training, and then they would be the only ones left at the club, well into the evening, with Roy doing work in his office while Jamie’s in the training room getting in his third workout of the day.
Later, they started both heading to Roy’s house afterwards. Roy would cook them dinner, and Jamie would shove his phone in Roy’s face showing him whatever new recipe he saw on TikTok. Roy would grumble and mutter something about kids these days and how TikTok was rotting his brain , but each night he would be following along with the video, with Jamie over his shoulder making unsolicited comments as if he knew anything about cooking at all.
It didn’t hit Jamie until one day he was driving home from Roy’s, thinking about what breakfast they would make in the morning, that the only time he wasn’t with Roy were the hours at night when they were both asleep.
“I’m not saying it’s weird ,” Colin starts, speaking over the noise of customers and the clinking of glasses at Ola’s. “It’s just… a lot .” He had a funny look in his eye that Jamie didn’t really feel like deciphering.
Sam makes a noise. “If it works for both of you then I’d say continue, but sometimes I fear that he’s too hard on you with training,” He says, not unkindly.
“I don’t think it’s bad. I like spending time with him.” Jamie scratches his cheek. “Is that strange? I used to hate him.”
“Amigo, I think your new friendship with Roy is beautiful.” Dani puts his hand over his heart. “It is definitely better than when you fight all the time. It was distracting when we would change. I do not like being naked while people are fighting.” The table mumbles in pained agreement.
“It is a bit weird though, yes? Because they both had sex with Keeley.” Everyone goes quiet and looks at Jan.
Isaac gags. “Yeah, thanks for that imagery, bruv. Sound dinner conversation, innit?”
Jamie checks his phone. It’s late. He’ll be lucky to get about 6 hours of sleep if he leaves right now and skips his nightly wank.
He sighs, resting his hands on his knees. “Alright, lads, I’ve got to leave.” There's a chorus of boos. Jamie stands up and raises his hands in surrender. “Sorry, but Coach’ll have me head if I’m late.”
“Imagine having to get up at 4am every morning?” Isaac says, looking over at Thierry. “Coach’s a proper fucking sadist, ain’t he?” Thierry nods and adds, “Yeah man. Worse than Led Tasso,” then gives Jamie a pointed look.
Jamie narrows his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. We’ll see who the crazy one is when I’m leaving you a lot in the dust on the pitch.” He gestures to himself within a smug smile. “This perfect body doesn't just happen by itself you know.” He stops and makes an overexaggerated thinking face, not unlike one of those Renaissance paintings. “Well, actually, in my case it does, doesn’t it?” Someone throws a balled up napkin at him while everyone laughs. Jamie says his final goodbyes and walks out. “See ya, lads.”
“Jamie, wait.” Sam is running up behind him. They’re standing outside, the lights from the restaurant illuminating them through the windows. “If Roy really is too hard on you, please do not be afraid to tell him. Don’t feel like you have to do anything you don’t want to,”
Jamie feels a strange surge of defensiveness for Roy. “It’s fine, love, swear down. I’m a grown man, aren’t I? I can hold me own. But I do appreciate your concern,” he says, clapping his shoulder.
Sam gives him an unsure look. “Alright, if you’re sure. Just as long as you can make it to Ola’s every now and then to support the local economy.”
Jamie rolls his eyes. “Like I could stay away. Don’t worry about that, mate. This place has, like, the best food in London and you know it.” He gestures behind him to his car. “But I’ll see you at the club, yeah?”
“Oh yes. And we’ll see who leaves who in the dust on the pitch tomorrow.” Sam smirks and turns around before Jamie can say anything.
Cheeky bastard , he thinks.
As Sam heads back inside, Jamie fidgets, feeling almost itchy, an unease settling deep within his gut. Is it really that odd that he and Roy spend so much time together?
It’s not until he’s almost home that Jamie suddenly remembers walking into the boot room, only to find about half the team staff crowding around a nervous Keeley. She was stress-smoking a ciggie, talking about Roy’s habit of smothering in their relationship. He had a feeling that it had something to do with the big breakup, but knew better than to ever ask either of them.
Jamie never feels smothered, he thinks. If anything, he feels like Roy’s attention is never enough.
“So I were thinking,”
“Scary.”
Jamie whacks a pillow in Roy’s face.
“ As I said , I were thinking,” Jamie says again, loudly this time, but trails off.
Roy grunts. “Come on, out with it.”
“Do you think we spend too much time together?” Jamie says abruptly.
They’re sitting on the couch playing FIFA at Jamie’s, on their off day. They hang out on those days, too.
Roy turns to look at him, his signature eyebrow raised. “Not really. Why? Do you?”
“No,” Jamie says quickly, fidgeting. “No. It’s just… some of the lads brought it up. They think it’s, like, weird that we spend so much time together.”
“Why the fuck would they think that?”
“I don’t know… you’re right, it's stupid. I shouldn’t have said anything.” Jamie replies, mentally kicking himself. What the fuck was he thinking bringing this up?
“It’s not fucking stupid. Are they jealous or something? I’ve been trying to be more fair at training. I don’t want anyone to think you're getting… fucking preferential treatment or some stupid shit like that.”
“Mate, I don’t think anyone would be jealous of someone spending more time with you .” Jamie says, laughing.
Jamie gets whacked in the face with a pillow this time.
“I’m kidding - I’m kidding. But not really. They all think I’m insane. Ya know, that I voluntarily spend time with you outside of the club and stuff.”
“Really?” Roy makes a face.
“Yeah, that’s why I brought it up. Kinda weird that I actually like feeding mushy peas to a grumpy old twat, innit?”
Whack.
Jamie quickly recovers. “But seriously, like, it made me start to think, ya know? It’s true. But, eh, we have fun together, right?” There’s a quietness to his voice that wasn’t there before.
Roy sighs. “I mean. I don’t not have fun.”
This earns a smile from Jamie, relief painting the edges. “Yeah, I mean, who doesn’t like spending time with their best friend , right Uncle Roy?”
Roy growls his ‘you’re right but I won’t admit that you’re right’ growl. Jamie’s not really sure when started to be able to speak Roy-language, either.
Roy rolls his eyes. “Why the fuck are we still talking about this? It’s not weird. C’mon, I want to beat your arse in FIFA again.”
“That was one time, and that’s only because I had a bad sandwich from the cafe.”
“Yeah, I had the same one and I was fucking fine. Keep fucking lying to yourself.”
Another whack.
A couple weeks into preseason, he decides to visit his Mum and Simon, because why the fuck not? He misses them and makes plans to stay for the weekend.
He hangs with Roy the night before and Roy hugs him before Jamie leaves, because apparently that’s something they do now.
“Be good,” He says into his hair.
“The fuck do you mean be good, the fuck do you think I’m gonna do?”
“I don’t fucking know… get into a fist fight with those twat kids who called you Jamie Fart?” He laughs a little at the thought of the kids telling Jamie off, for no reason other than existing. “Good name, by the way. I’m gonna start calling you that.”
“Fuck off. Roy Kunt.”
Roy snorts. He pulls back and puts his hands on the sides of Jamie’s shoulders. “But seriously, have fun.” He starts to smirk. “Say hi to your mum for me.”
“Eugh,” Jamie sticks his tongue out and gags. “Hands off, she’s my fuckin’ Mum for Christ’s sake. And also she’s married.”
“I'll stop hitting on your mum when you stop hitting on my sister.”
Jamie shrugs. “Fair play.”
He then gets quiet, suddenly feeling shy. “I’ll miss you, ya know,” he says, not really looking at Roy. It’s a gamble, making himself vulnerable to being laughed at.
But that doesn’t happen.
Roy grunts. “I’ll miss you too. Now get the fuck out and get a good night’s rest. Don’t want you falling asleep at the fucking wheel.”
“Yeah, whatever Grandad. I know you’re only saying that because your old-as-shit ass can’t stay awake past 8pm.”
“Prick,” Roy rolls his eyes, trying not to smile.
Jamie laughs and blows a kiss as he leaves.
The 4-hour drive up to Manchester isn’t all that bad. He sings along to Tina Turner most of the time.
By the time he gets there, it’s about 10 am, and his Mum squeals as she opens the door.
“Hello, mummy,” Jamie pulls her into a hug.
“Jamie, my love! How are you, darling,”
“Good– I’m good, yeah. Where’s Simon?”
“He’s in the kitchen fixing up a late breakfast for you. Have you eaten?”
“Not much, just a banana and a protein bar. I’m starving to be honest.”
“Good, you know how he goes overboard. Gives me a week's worth of leftovers, that one.”
Jamie walks to the kitchen and greets Simon, who’s cooked up a full English breakfast.
“Jesus Christ, Simon, is a starving army coming round?”
“Oh, hey Jamie! How are ya, lad?”
After eating, Jamie and his mom go to the shops, and run some errands. He’s missed her so much He forgot how much he loved helping her as a kid, holding the shopping list and crossing off each item as they go. They pick up some ingredients that Simon needed to make dinner for that night.
They get back and lounge on the couch, watching Match of the Day. Jamie’s tucked into her side, the way he’s done since he was a wee lad.
After dinner, he decides to go to bed early. He says goodnight to Mum and Simon, showers, and starts his 10-step skin care routine. It makes his skin look great, and he looks proper fucking fit. He has a reputation to uphold, ya know. It’s not easy being so ravesting and allat.
He sleeps in his childhood bed. It’s too small, and it’s hard to spread out the way he likes to in a twin bed. But he has to admit, he’s missed his football duvet.
Jamie’s tossing and turning, staring up in the dark. He can’t sleep. He’s thinking too much, about the new season, the Champions League, about Roy– and how much he already misses him.
He decides to have his nightly wank, knowing it’ll put him right to sleep.
He was planning on forgoing it, feeling weirdly guilty and shameful for doing that in his mother’s home. As if he hadn't been doing it for nearly 6 or so years before he moved to the U21 academy. His hand reaches down to his pants, getting a grip on himself.
He looks at his poster of Keeley as he starts. Looking at her feels like pressing on an old bruise, like mourning for what could have been but will never be. But it isn’t really painful– he knows they’re better off as friends, and he’s accepted that. But god, that doesn’t make her any less bloody fucking hot.
He picks up his pace. As he’s staring at her poster, his eyes accidentally shift to the one right next to it. The one of Roy. He quickly looks away and shakes his head. He hasn’t done that in a long time.
That was weird , he thinks.
He starts again, focusing on Keeley. He gets a good rhythm going, but then his gaze shifts again, this time for longer. He stops and forces himself to look back at Keeley, and starts again. He uncontrollably looks back at Roy’s poster. Roy is staring back at him, and there’s a fierceness in his eyes, his hair resembling something like a mane. This time he can’t stop looking away.
He moans. “Oh fuck--”
He keeps going until he finishes all over himself. He puts an arm over his face.
“Fuck.” He says in the quiet of his room. He looks at his hand, suddenly disgusted by the mess, and grabs a tissue from the box on his night stand. When he’s done cleaning himself up, his phone lights up from a text. It’s from Roy. Jamie feels shame, as if Roy somehow knows what just happened.
Roy Kunt 👴
Come round for dinner when you get back. I’ll make that recipe you like.
Jamie can’t help but grin to himself, and immediately responds.
can't wait.
Roy quickly replies.
Good.
Jamie’s heart flutters. He buries his face into his pillow and groans.
Fuck.
The thing is, Jamie knows he’s bi. The only people who actually know that, though, are his Mum, Simon, Dr. Sharon, and Keeley. Him and Keeley came out to each other when they were still together.
Roy was pretty much his bisexual awakening. Jamie would always sit, staring at the T.V. watching Roy play, with a blush on his face.
It was obvious that what he was feeling wasn’t just admiration. His father thought it was obvious too, smacking him on his head, calling him soft and other words he doesn’t want to think about.
That interaction never stopped Jamie’s attraction to men, though. He would look up at Roy at night, horny as all hell, finishing fast like every teenager his age. His face would burn with shame afterwards, cursing himself.
By the time he moves out, Jamie had fooled around with a few fellow players on the U18 team. By the time he was 21, starting to make a name for himself, he had some drunken hookups in the bathroom of dark-lit clubs. Every time it happened he would freak out after, scared for weeks that an article would come out about him hooking up with men.
Eventually he stopped. He still thought women were fucking hot as fuck, and he loved fucking them. He decided that he’s okay with just sticking to birds.
And there’s no way Roy is gay, or even bi. Roy was a Chelsea hard man— mean, gruff, and straight as a line. He’s followed Roy’s romantic and sexual life in the tabloids, dozens of articles about his hookups with various actresses and models and his ex-girlfriends selling stories about his dick for some extra cash.
Jamie realizing he has actual feelings for Roy, though, freaked him out. He always was attracted to him, obviously, but after found out Roy was a right prick and Jamie decided he fucking hated him, his feelings became more more of a angry, rivalrous obsession.
That clearly started to change though, Jamie thought. The obsession never left but he feels like he could never be angry at Roy anymore.
Seeing Roy in person after realizing he may like him more than a friend was jarring. He couldn’t stop looking at him during training, overthinking his plays on the pitch, trying to be perfect for Roy. At dinner that night, Roy called him out for acting strange.
“Oi. Why the fuck are you acting so fucking weird? It’s freaking me out.”
“I– What? I’m not acting weird. You’re acting weird.”
“No, I’m fucking not. You are.”
“No. You.”
Roy just rolls his eyes, giving up. “Okay then. Speaking of weird– listen to this fucking story Beard told me today— “
Jamie listens intently, glad that the conversation was dropped. Roy cannot find out how he feels, Jamie thinks. It would fuck everything up.
He is not gonna fuck this up.
He fucks it up.
He’s surprised it didn’t happen sooner, if he’s honest. It starts off like any other night. It’s after a match against West Ham, and they won 4-1 in West Ham's home stadium. Jamie played fucking beautifully. He got an assist, and a fucking hat-trick, in the bloody Champions League no less.
Roy seems to agree that he played so well– he decides to celebrate with him, bringing a 12-pack of beers to Jamie’s afterwards. They’re on the couch playing FIFA, laughing as empty bottles are littering the coffee table.
“Look, I know I already told you this in the locker room, but you were a fucking wonder on the pitch today. And I’m fucking proud of you.”
Jamie feels his praise like a punch in the gut, and his face heats up.
“Thanks, coach. I was pretty fucking amazing, weren’t I? And I bet I looked dead sexy while doing it too.”
“Fuck you,” Roy says fondly, shaking his head and smiling.
Jamie feels a bit frenzied as he looks over at Roy. He still can’t believe this is his fucking life– best mates with Roy fucking Kent, Roy at his house after winning a match, playing FIFA with Roy on his couch.
But this Roy feels different from the one on his poster. This isn’t Roy Kent, legendary football player. It’s Roy, who loves his niece and sister more than anything, who cares about his players like they’re his family, who gets the shits after eating ice cream and for some reason loves spending every waking moment with Jamie.
They go quiet and look at each other. Jamie feels drunk on beers but also on praise. He feels lightheaded and elated and Roy looks beautiful and Jamie feels like he can’t go another moment without kissing him.
So, he does.
Roy tenses next to him, lips frozen against his. Jamie’s about to pull away to profusely apologize and try to salvage what little will be left of their friendship when Roy suddenly wraps his arms around him, pulling him closer. He starts to respond to the kiss in earnest.
Jamie feels like he’s on fire. The kiss starts to get heated and he’s about to push Roy back on the couch to straddle him.
Roy abruptly pulls away, looking all bug-eyed at Jamie. His chest is heaving, and there's a faint blush on his face.
“Goodnight Jamie,” He says quickly, and then grabs his jacket and rushes out the door.
Jamie just sits there. What the fuck just happened? Roy seemed to be enjoying the kiss, if he were to go off of the noises he was making. He wants to go chase after him but he feels frozen to his couch. He doesn’t want to confront him and listen to Roy tell him how it was a mistake and that they won’t be able to continue to be friends anymore.
He feels like he’s gonna throw up. He goes to his bedroom and passes out, fearing what tomorrow will bring him.
He doesn’t dream that night.
Jamie’s off-day is fucking terrible. Roy doesn’t show up at 4am, and Jamie can’t even bring himself to train without him. He skips his shower and lays in bed feeling sorry for himself all day.
Roy doesn't show up the next morning for training either, because of course he doesn’t. Jamie feels like actual shit.
He turns on his head torch and starts his jog. His mind is racing while he’s running, thinking of all the worst possible scenarios that could possibly happen.
Roy tells him to fuck off. Roy tells Beard and Nate. Roy leaves the club to coach for a different team. Roy tells Rebecca what happened and they trade Jamie to a different club like a fucking show pony.
Fuck, he’s really fucked up, hasn’t he?
Jamie’s hands are shaking by the time he gets to the club.
He's trying to steady his breath when he runs into Keeley on her way out of the building. He’s barely paying attention to what he’s doing or what’s around him.
“Hi Jamie,” She starts, chipper as ever. “I was just eating breakfast with Rebecca– woah, what’s wrong?”
Jamie doesn’t know what he was showing on his face but it must’ve been pretty telling, because Keeley looks panicked and concerned.
“Jamie, you know you can talk to me about anything," She reaches down and squeezes his hand. “What’s happened, babes?”
“Huh? It’s nothing. Just feeling off today, promise.” He waves her off, and tries to give a convincing smile. It only makes Keeley look even more worried.
“Jamie, do you want me to run in and get Roy? Maybe–”
“No!” Jamie interrupts loudly, shaking his head. He clears his throat and lowers his voice. “Eh, no, that’s fine. I’m okay, really.”
Keeley still looks unconvinced. “Well, okay then. But you know I’m only a text away if you ever want to talk, right? I’ll make time for you. Don’t disappear on me, Jamie.”
Jamie feels a surge of affection for her. God, she’s so good to him, even after everything.
“Thank you, Keeley. That means a lot. But I’m fine, I promise, yeah?” He starts picking at his sleeves. “I have to go, training starts soon.” He gives her a quick hug and goes inside.
Most of the team is getting changed already. Jamie searches the room for Roy, and spots him in his office, sitting at his desk talking to Beard.
They all head off to the pitch, and Jamie can’t think straight. Roy won’t even look at him, and Jamie plays terribly. Roy won’t speak to him either, using Beard as some sort of weird middle man, to tell him to get his shit together on the pitch. Nate and Beard look at Roy strangely but don’t seem to say anything. At least not in public, anyway.
The team notices, too.
“Is everything okay with you and Roy?” Bumbercatch asks after training, putting his hand on Jamie’s shoulder.
“Yeah, bruv, are you guys good? Do you want to talk about it?” Isaac says, quickly switching from captain-mode to best-mate mode.
“I’m fine, lads, really. Just an off day. Swear down. Actually, I feel fucking mint,” Jamie nods.
They look unconvinced, but switch the subject to look at photos from Dani’s trip to the Greyhound puppy adoption shelter, Barkingham Palace. Sam looks at him and asks with his eyes if he’s really okay, and Jamie gives him a tight nod.
After training, he and Colin are the only ones left in the locker room. Colin walks up to him and hugs him.
“Mate, I told you, I’m fine.”
“I know, boyo, but it’s okay if you’re not.” He looks at him, understanding, like he can see right through him. Jamie starts to crumble.
“I kissed him. I kissed him and I fucked us up.” Colin looks somewhat shocked.
“Woah– I thought you two just had a fight. I mean, I had a feeling you liked him, but I didn’t think that anything had happened.” He frowns. “Was he angry?”
“I dunno. He kissed me back, but then got all weird and fucking ran out of me house. And now he won’t fucking talk to me or look at me and I really fucked everything up,” Jamie looks away, and his face starts to feel wet. “Fuck."
Colin pulls him into another hug. “I’m so sorry, Jamie. Do you want to come over and play FIFA? I’ll even let you win.”
Jamie laughs wetly. “I’m okay. I think I just want to go home and sleep, if that’s alright.”
“Of course, boyo. I’ll text you tonight.”
They leave the locker room, exchange goodbyes and walk to their cars. Jamie watches Colin struggle to get out of the car park in his bright orange Lamborghini. He’s really a fucking hazard in that thing, isn’t he?
Jamie gets home and showers again. He scrubs at his skin, trying to wash this awful day off of him.
But he’s grateful for his friends, his teammates. They all noticed something was up, and Jamie knows they really care about him. He goes to bed feeling a little lucky despite everything.
The next morning Jamie is walking out the door at 4am when he runs into Roy jogging up his steps. Jamie almost trips. He just stands there with his mouth open.
“Get moving, Tartt,” Roy says, interrupting Jamie’s display of dumbfoundedness. He turns around and starts running. They don’t speak during the entirety of training.
When they finish, they walk inside Jamie’s house in silence. Jamie can’t take it anymore.
“Look, if–”
“I’m sorry–”
They speak at the same time. They fall into an uncomfortable silence, and Jamie fumbles with the bottom of his shirt, shoving his hands into the fabric.
Jamie starts up again. “Look, if you just want to pretend like it never happened, it’s fine. It didn’t have to mean anything.”
Roy looks like he feels relieved. Jamie feels fucking crushed.
Roy cringes. “I’m sorry I ignored you. That was wrong. But Jamie, I–” he trails off, sounding apologetic. Jamie braces himself for the rejection he knows is coming.
Roy looks down at his hands, and then looks up again. He just stares at Jamie. It’s kind of really fucking weird. Jamie furrows his eyebrows. Roy then looks around, like he’s realizing something.
“Fuck,” He yells. He tilts his head back, eyes closing. “Fuckkkkkk,” he whispers, mostly to himself.
“Roy, what’s happening? What’s wrong–”
Jamie’s interrupted by Roy pushing him back into the wall, and capturing his mouth into a rough kiss.
Jamie doesn’t move at first, frozen in shock, but once Roy puts his hand on his face he’s snapped back to reality. He clutches Roy’s shirt like it’s a lifeline. His heart feels like it’s beating out of his chest and he wonders if Roy can feel it.
The kisses start getting sloppy, and it’s like they can’t pull away from each other.
They keep going at a maddening pace, and Jamie feels drunk. But his sweat from the early training is starting to dry and he begins to feel disgusting. Jamie musters the strength to pull away, and Roy follows his mouth as he does.
“I need a shower. And we need to talk.”
“We can do both. And still make out.”
Jamie laughs and drags Roy upstairs, already starting to undress.
They fuck in the shower. And in Jamie’s bed. And in the shower again.
Jamie’s honestly surprised Roy could go for that many rounds so quickly. He tells him as much.
“Fuck off— I’m not fucking geriatric.”
They’re laying in bed together, Jamie resting his head on Roy’s chest, with Roy’s arm wrapped around Jamie, their legs tangled under the sheets.
“Okay, grandad.”
Roy groans. “Do not call me grandad after I just fucked you.”
Jamie laughs and presses a kiss to his chest. Roy grumbles and strokes Jamie’s back in response.
“Jamie,” Roy whispers into his hair, “We need to get ready and be at the club in 20 minutes. We’ll grab breakfast at the cafe.”
“Five more minutes. Please.”
Roy growls. “Fine. Brat.” He kisses his head.
Jamie sighs with content and buries his face even more into the rug that is Roy’s chest. “We still need to talk, ya know.”
Roy takes a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll start. I’m fucking scared.”
Jamie lifts his head up. The fuck? “You’re… scared?”
He nods. “Dr. Sharon tells me I need to be more open with my emotions and shit. So yes, I’m fucking scared.”
“What— why?” Jamie looks at him, confused.
“Because. I’m your coach. And… there’s a million other reasons why we shouldn’t do this. If this gets out, Jamie, it could destroy your career.”
“You were my teammate first, and you’re not just my coach. You’re my best friend, too.”
Jamie shakes his head. “And none of the lads will care if we get together, I’m pretty sure Sam and Rebecca had a thing going a couple years ago. She was also his boss.”
“Wait– what?”
“Nevermind. I just- I really think we have something here, Roy. Something real. And we just had some really cracker sex and I am not planning on stopping that anytime soon.”
Roy laughs and gestures like he agrees.
“So, we’re okay, yeah?”
Roy shakes his head. “I don’t know.”
Jamie starts to feel desperate. “Is this about Keeley?” Jamie hopes he doesn’t sound as hysterical as he feels; he’s not sure if he can handle letting their past feelings about her get in between them again.
“What? No– Jamie. Fuck.” Roy stops and takes a deep breath. “I really think we have something here too. But I’ve never– I’ve never been with a man before. I think I always sort of knew in the back of my mind that I may be attracted to men, but I never wanted to think about it. Where I’m from— you aren’t gay. Or bi, or whatever. It wasn't even a question. I never considered the possibility of ever being able to think about those feelings properly.” He grabs Jamie’s hand. “Until... until you.”
Jamie wants to scream. He decides to keep it cool, despite feeling like he’s about to explode.
“Hold up— was I your bisexual awakening? That’s fucking hot.”
“Shut up. That’s really what you fucking got from that?”
Jamie smacks a kiss on his cheek. “I don’t blame ya, I’m irretrievable aren’t I?”
“I think you mean irresistible.”
“Whatever. You were my bisexual awakening too, though.”
“What?” Roy says, seemingly genuinely shocked. “Really?”
Jamie laughs. “Are you surprised? Your poster being next to Keeley’s… over my bed? That really didn’t give it away?”
Roy tilts his head, considering it. “I guess. I just… didn’t really let myself think about it. I feel like if I thought about you liking men it would make me have to think about myself or some shit.”
Huh. Interesting. “I’m sorry.”
“The fuck are you sorry for?” Roy pulls away to look at him better.
“I’m sorry I made you feel that way, I know what it’s like to struggle with your sexuality, ya know?”
“Jamie, it’s not your fault. At all. But I–” He sighs. “You’re so fucking… special, Jamie, and I don’t want to fuck this up. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you,” Roy is looking everywhere but Jamie right now. “And I'm a lot. In a relationship, I mean. I smother, and I get upset, and I run away when things get hard, and I know I’m getting help and working on it but I can really be a shit boyfriend.”
“You think I’m any better?”
“You will be,” He smiles sadly. “It’s not easy being with me.”
Jamie laughs incredulously. “Roy, being with you is probably the easiest thing I’ve ever done. Yeah, the stakes are high. But it’s worth it to me. I know you’re my coach, and me best friend, and we do everything together, but you’re…” Jamie pauses. “You’re everything, Roy. You always have been.”
Roy's breath stutters and he smiles. It’s a rare Roy smile, eyes crinkling and full teeth. “Really?”
“Yeah.” Jamie can’t stop grinning.
Jamie realizes at that moment that he's head over heels. Like, proper fucking gone on him. He loves Roy. Probably always have, if he’s honest.
Roy looks like he feels the same way. He pulls Jamie into a kiss, and it feels like a promise.
It feels like a new beginning.