Work Text:
1. Teammate
“He’s an insufferable prick, I’d be doing the world a favor if I took the strap of his stupid purse and used it to strangle him.”
Ruth made a sympathetic noise and suppressed a smile as she took a few more plates out of the dishwasher. There was something oddly reassuring about her brother threatening to murder one of his teammates. Over the decades she’d had the privilege of listening to countless expletive-ladened diatribes against one footballer or another who’d managed to piss him off. Jamie Tartt was just the latest to inherit the role of irritator-in-chief. Although she had to admit that age seemed to have made Roy’s threats more graphic.
“...thinks because he can kick a ball everyone should fucking bow down to him, arrogant sod. He’s lucky he’s scoring goals, otherwise I’d have killed him already.” Roy vented as Ruth handed him some more dishes to put away. “I thought the fucking American they brought in might reign him in, seeing as he’s all about teamwork and shit. But somehow I’m the one who has to deal with it,” Roy continued, fuming.
“I mean, it kind of makes sense. You’re the captain, right?” replied Ruth, trying to be reasonable. Roy growled and ground his teeth together, stacking a few bowls in the cupboard. Roy had spent the evening looking after Phoebe at Ruth’s place while she was working late. It was now nearly midnight, and they were clearing up the kitchen together, having long put Phoebe to bed. Ruth was always grateful she had someone reliable to help her out on nights like this.
“The twat thinks he’s God’s gift to women, too,” said Roy. “Always walking around the weight room without a shirt, showing off, flexing his pecs like an idiot.”
“How many women are in the Richmond weight room?” said Ruth, teasing. “He can’t be showing off for that many.”
“Fuck off, you know what I mean,” said Roy.
“You sure you’re not the one he’s showing off for? I do remember you complaining about him showing his muscles a few times before, you seem to notice them an awful lot…”
Roy threw a dish towel at Ruth’s head as she laughed.
2. Coach
“I watched the Man City match, that looked tough.” Ruth was sitting at the kitchen island, watching Roy prepare a salad for their Tuesday dinner. Usually this was the night that both of them could have a meal together with Phoebe, but tonight Phoebe was at a friend’s, giving Ruth a chance to chat with Roy one-on-one.
She didn’t always watch Richmond’s matches, but she’d made sure to set aside time to watch their appearance at Wembley, only to grimace her way through a resounding defeat. It was rough watching the team get outclassed, and she knew Roy must be taking it hard. Maybe even harder now that he was coach than when he was a player, back when a bad performance could have him glowering for weeks.
Roy stayed quiet for a moment, chopping tomatoes. Ruth waited, knowing from the stiffness of the silence that he had something to say.
“Jamie’s dad came into the locker room after the match,” Roy finally said.
Ruth hadn’t expected that to be the thing on Roy’s mind.
“Yeah?” she said, not sure where this was going.
Roy paused his chopping but didn’t look up at her.
“He…he said a lot of shit about Jamie. Was shouting at him, called him a bitch,” Roy said.
“Oh.” Ruth watched Roy carefully as he stared down at the cutting board. “How did Jamie take that?”
“He hit him,” Roy replied. “Then his dad tried to hit back and Beard threw him out.”
Ruth nodded, and Roy looked up at her, his expression pinched. “I gave Jamie a hug, and he started crying.”
Ruth got up and walked around the island to wrap her arms around her big brother, who hugged her back immediately.
She was six years younger than Roy, meaning that her first memories with her brother were the times he’d come home from Sunderland for holidays or visit for an occasional weekend. She’d adored and idolized him, but they’d never spent that much time together, first because he was busy with football and fame, later because she was busy with med school, marriage, and having Phoebe. It was only when she started the process of her long and painful divorce that she had really seen how sensitive her brother could be, how deeply he cared.
“I feel like shit about it,” said Roy, leaning in to her.
“You did the right thing,” she reassured him, giving him a squeeze.
“I’ve been a prick to him.”
“You were a prick,” Ruth said, “Past tense. Anyway, from everything you’ve told me, he deserved it.”
“Not recently,” replied Roy, sighing. “He’s been doing good lately, and I’ve still been an asshole.”
“He’s changed: so can you,” said Ruth. She pulled back and smiled at him. “You’re a good person, Roy. I know you don’t want anyone to find out, but it’s true.”
Roy rolled his eyes, but the corners of his mouth pulled up into something like a smile. “Thanks,” he said. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
3. Friend
Ping. Ping. Ping.
Ruth raised her head from the sun lounger to look over at Roy, who was unlocking his phone to see the messages that had been coming in. After Keeley had dumped him, Roy had invited her and Phoebe to join him in Spain, and she’d managed to secure a week off work to come join him for at least part of his planned holiday.
Roy snorted, staring at his phone.
“Who’s texting you?” she asked.
“Just Jamie,” Roy replied. “I should have never given him my number, he sends me random shit all the time now.”
“I guess you’re friends now?” Ruth said, propping herself up on an elbow.
He grunted. “I’m not currently trying to kill him.”
“Aaawwwww,” said Ruth. “You like him.”
Roy shot her one of the looks he had historically reserved for opposing players who fouled him. Ruth snickered, enjoying getting under her brother’s skin.
“Who does Uncle Roy like?” Phoebe had wandered over from the pool.
“No one,” said Roy sharply, crossing his arms.
“You like me,” Phoebe pointed out, “and you like mum.”
Roy grunted. “I like you, Phoebs. Your mum not so much.”
Ruth laughed again. “Don’t listen to him, Phoebe. Roy likes lots of people. You can tell if he likes you if you can see the signs.”
“What signs?” Phoebe asked, curious.
“First, he grunts and shouts at you. Then he complains about you. And then finally he denies that he likes you.”
“Uncle Roy does that with everyone, though,” said Phoebe, rolling her eyes.
“Yeah, but when he really insists he doesn’t like you, that means he likes you,” explained Ruth. Phoebe nodded sagely as Roy growled.
“So who does Uncle Roy like?” Phoebe asked again.
“Jamie Tartt, he’s one of the footballers Uncle Roy works with,” Ruth said.
“I do not like Jamie Tartt,” Roy said loudly.
Ruth and Phoebe shared a knowing look.
4. Best Friend
“How was hanging out with Uncle Roy?” Phoebe had had the whole Saturday with her favorite uncle while Ruth had to work. She felt guilty about losing time with Phoebe, but she knew the kid probably didn’t even miss her, the little traitor. So long as Phoebe was with Roy, she’d be having a great time.
“It was amazing,” Phoebe confirmed, bouncing slightly in the backseat of her mom’s car. Ruth had just picked her up. “Uncle Roy made us pancakes and smoothies for breakfast…well, only I could eat the pancakes, but we both had a smoothie Uncle Roy made us, and then we…”
“Who’s ‘we’?” Ruth interrupted, glancing back at Phoebe in the rearview mirror, confused.
“Me and Jamie!” Phoebe stated, as though it were obvious.
“Jamie was there?” Ruth asked.
“Yeah, when I got to Uncle Roy’s house he was already there, he said he and Uncle Roy had training. Anyway, we played Princess and Dragon for a bit which was even better because Jamie is a better princess than Uncle Roy, and then he told me he could teach me how to do a rainbow flick and Uncle Roy got grumpy because he said he could teach me too if his knee was better. But he let Jamie teach me, and now I can do it and I’ll show you at home. And then Uncle Roy made us lunch and then he made me do homework and then Jamie and I did more rainbow flicks and we played football with Uncle Roy. Then we went and got ice cream even though Jamie couldn’t have any and then you came to pick me up!”
Ruth smiled. “Sounds like a great day! Did you finish your homework?”
“Yep!” Phoebe said.
“Good for you,” Ruth said, glad to hear that Roy was being responsible. “So Jamie was there the whole day?”
“Yeah,” Phoebe confirmed nonchalantly. “Uncle Roy still says he’s not his best friend, but I don’t believe him.”
“I agree,” said Ruth, suppressing a smirk. “I don’t believe him either.”
5. Housemate
Helping Roy put up a Christmas tree had become something of a tradition for Ruth and Phoebe. They’d visited him during the holidays when Phoebe was three and she had been furious to discover that Roy had no tree or Christmas decorations, a fact which she seemed to consider a personal affront. Ever since, she had made it her mission to ensure her uncle was suitably equipped with lights, wreaths, and garlands every holiday season. Which is how Ruth found herself in Roy’s living room in mid-December, unpacking dusty boxes of ornaments.
“Where are the lights?” asked Phoebe, looking over the assembled decorations
“I think I forgot that box,” said Roy. “It must be upstairs.”
“I’ll get it,” said Ruth, standing up. “Where is it exactly?”
“Wardrobe in the guest bedroom,” he said, and Ruth headed up the stairs.
Roy’s house was much bigger than a single person really needed, with three bedrooms on the upper floor in addition to Roy’s room on the main floor. One had long been converted into a home gym, and a second had become Phoebe’s permanent room, but there was still an extra guest room that Ruth had hardly ever seen used. Roy didn’t frequently have people over.
Which is why Ruth was surprised to discover that the room clearly looked lived in. The bed was roughly made, the bedside table crowded with personal items: a bottle of cologne, lotion, a phone charger, a few books. A brightly colored hoodie was thrown over the back of the corner chair, and when she opened the wardrobe she discovered the hangers filled with luxury streetwear and neon track jackets. She located the box of lights at the back of the wardrobe and dragged it downstairs, grinning. She had a sneaking suspicion she knew who had taken over Roy’s extra room.
“It seems like you’ve had a guest,” she said as she returned to the living room.
“Hmm?” said Roy, absorbed in detangling a red and gold garland.
“Has someone been staying with you?” Ruth asked more directly.
“Yeah, Jamie’s been spending the night sometimes,” said Roy, still distracted.
“How often is ‘sometimes’?”
“I don’t know…maybe three, four times a week.”
Ruth let out a barking laugh.
“What?” Roy said, finally looking up.
“‘Only’ three or four times a week, huh?” Ruth said teasingly.
“We train together,” Roy defended. “Plus, he is incapable of cooking for himself, and I need him to eat well if he’s going to keep up his level of performance this season.”
“Because it’s a totally normal training strategy for a star striker to live half the week at his manager’s house.”
Roy flushed. “I’m not fucking forcing him, he can go home whenever he wants.”
“But you want him to stay,” said Ruth.
“I’ve told him he should leave,” said Roy.
“That’s not denying what I said.”
“Are we decorating for the holidays or is this now a fucking interrogation?”
“You owe me two pounds, Uncle Roy,” said Phoebe.
+1. Boyfriend
Ruth unlocked Roy’s front door and stepped inside. She was used to letting herself in, just as Roy came and went from her house like it was his own. Roy had left some of his things at her place the weekend before, and she needed to drop them off before she headed to work. Usually Roy was at the club by this time, so she knew there was little point in knocking.
She crossed the front hall and headed for the kitchen, planning to leave Roy’s things on the island. When she rounded the corner, though, she froze in shock. Her brother was in his kitchen in boxers and a ratty t-shirt, making out with a fully naked Jamie Tartt. Jamie’s hands were gently holding Roy’s head as the pair of them did a good impression of trying to eat each other’s lips. One of Roy’s hands was groping in between Jamie’s splayed thighs as he pushed him back against the counter.
“Shit,” she said, and both men startled and looked directly at her.
“Ruth,” said Roy, his voice hoarse. He let go and stepped in front of Jamie, helping cover him. “Uh..wha-what are you…I mean, do you, umm.” Ruth had never seen Roy so much at a loss for words.
“I was just dropping this off,” she said, holding up the Tesco bag she’d used to carry his things. “I, uh, thought you’d be at work.” She flushed.
“Off day,” said Roy, flushing even brighter than she was. “Um…you know Jamie already.” He gestured awkwardly between the two of them.
“Hey,” said Ruth, and Jamie gave a wave from behind Roy. “I guess I’ll give you guys some space. Roy, uh, I’ll text you later.”
“Sure,” he said, swallowing and nodding as Ruth set the bag down on the floor and made a hasty retreat towards the front door. She was going to have to bleach her eyes to get the sight of Roy snogging out of her mind.
Outside, though, she paused for a second and let out a laugh. Just last week Roy had insisted to her that he hated Jamie’s guts. She shouldn’t have been surprised. She knew what that meant.