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“Do you wanna be my Valentine?” Jamie had asked him on their daily run. He panted it out, and Roy thought he misheard the question at first. But, when he had glanced over, Jamie looked like he was waiting for an answer to it. Roy looked away and took a brief second to think about it. Phoebe had just asked him the other day if he’d be hers, it wasn’t that serious of a thing, so he didn’t even really think when he said, “Sure.” He just assumed Jamie was fucking with him, or asking because both of them were sure as hell not doing anything. Just a small joke of something not so serious. He didn’t think twice about it and just carried on with the normal route.
If he had just looked over, he would have seen Jamie smiling brightly as he started to speed up with happiness coursing through him as he whispered “Mint” under his breath. He remembers being pleased when Jamie started talking about some pasta dish he was going to make for them, and a dessert if he could swing it, and that’s only because he was happy he didn’t have to cook like he normally did.
Fuck. He should’ve looked over. How did he not realize how stupid he was?
-
When Roy enters Jamie’s house on Valentine’s Day, he should’ve realized sooner what was happening. First, when he opened the door to let him in, he was dressed up just a little bit. Roy thinks Jamie always looks good, but he noticeably put more effort today than normal. He also had the table set with roses in a vase and their wine glasses already full. He’s apprehensive when Jamie tells him to sit and wait while he plates up their pasta. Roy cautiously sits where Jamie pulls out the chair for him and watches with furrowed eyebrows as Jamie walks back to the kitchen. He looks back towards the table and eyes the roses on the table, they’re pushed to the side instead of the middle, he imagines so they can talk without looking side to side to avoid the flowers covering them. He looks at the open bottle of white wine, doesn’t recognize the name, and is about to Google how much it costs when Jamie comes back in carrying two steaming bowls. He’s beaming when he places it down and sits in front of Roy. Doesn’t take his eyes off him until Roy takes a bit of it and nods in approval. The conversation is quiet, the only thing filling up the room is the sounds of their forks scraping against the bowls. He sits and eats his pasta, which is fucking good, and he tells Jamie that. It makes him blush and look down as he stirs it around in the bowl.
“I’m really happy you said yes,” Jamie admits further into dinner. Roy looks up from his second serving of the lemon pasta dish. He shrugs in response, really it isn’t a big deal. He and Jamie eat dinner together all the time, the only difference is Jamie finally fucking cooked for him.
“Where else would I be?” Roy answers. Jamie kicks his foot underneath the table and grins at him. The rest of the dinner goes back to normal. They talk about training, and new shows they’re watching, which leads to Jamie trying to convince Roy to watch The Bachelor, and then it ends with Jamie leaving the table only to come back with a huge slice of chocolate cake and two forks.
“Can’t get your own?” Roy mutters after he takes a couple of bites. It’s fucking delicious, and Roy could eat this gigantic slice all by himself if given the chance. He normally hates fruit in cakes, but the raspberry jam is perfect with the rich chocolate cake. When he looks up from the plate, Jamie’s teeth are full of chocolate crumbs as he smiles at him and shakes his head no.
“Romantic, ain’t it?” The response causes Roy to roll his eyes and poke at Jamie’s fork whenever he goes after another bite. His laugh fills up the whole dining room, and Roy tries not to give away how pleased he is about it. He helps Jamie put the dishes into the washer and helps put the leftovers away in the fridge.
If Roy wasn’t so clueless, he would realize that Jamie is being more touchy than usual. He’s pressed himself against his side when washing the dishes and bumped their hips together as they stand there covered in suds. He even slaps Roy’s hand away when he goes to swipe at the leftover frosting where their slice previously was.
It starts to dawn on Roy that something is going on when they go sit on the couch to watch some ocean documentary that he had mentioned wanting to watch recently. Jamie plops himself down unusually close to him, wrapped his arms around Roy’s bicep closest to him, and leaned his head on his shoulder as the TV rattled off facts about the mantis shrimp. He tries not to move and doesn’t have the heart to push him away after he just cooked dinner and dessert for him. Just sits there stock still and tries to pay attention to the interesting facts about shrimp rather than to Jamie gripping onto him. He only looks towards him when he feels Jamie move. Turns his head to see Jamie turned towards him, and flickers his eyes across his face to see if there’s something wrong. He’s biting his lip and looks just a bit nervous, and he’s about to ask what’s wrong but then Jamie is pushing towards him.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Roy leans backward away from where Jamie is invading his space. Jamie pauses where he is and tilts his head to the side with his mouth dropped open just a bit. His eyebrows go upwards, and he licks his lips at the question.
“I’m trying to kiss you,” Jamie explains like it’s the easiest explanation in the world. His voice edges on being patronizing like he’s explaining something to a kid who just isn’t getting it, and Roy’s the kid who should be getting it. But, why the fuck would Roy be expecting him to kiss him?
“Why are you trying to fucking kiss me?” Roy doesn’t mean for it to come out so cruel, but that’s how he’s able to spit it out. The words cause Jamie to shut his mouth, clench his jaw, and lean back away from him. His eyes focus on a spot behind Roy instead of looking right at him like he was before. His hands move to his sweatshirt pocket and he starts to stretch out the material.
“I just thought,” Jamie hesitates as he tries to find the words, but all he can land on is, “I don’t know. You don’t want to kiss me?” Roy’s eyebrows shoot up. Roy has never even fucking thought about the fact he could kiss Jamie and tries not to let himself imagine shit like that.
“I didn’t know it was an option,” Roy leans further back so he can get a better view of Jamie sitting there. His hands are still writhing in his pocket, and his mouth turns into a frown at the answer Roy just gave him.
“But, I asked you to be my Valentine,” Jamie says simply, each word coming out slowly so it can settle in the room and sink in for Roy.
“Yeah, but so did fucking Phoebe, so why the fuck are you trying to kiss me?” Jamie’s eyes widen and his mouth drops open to let out a scoff. He looks taken aback, trying to find the words to explain this to him, and Roy is waiting for an answer.
“Are you dense?” He spits out bitterly. His eyebrows are turned down angrily, and his jaw is clenching. Roy looks around shocked at the answer, like he’s looking for the answers to all his questions. “Do you not kiss on the first date or something?” Jamie’s voice smooths out and he sounds cautious while he asks it. It’s like he’s truly trying to find out why Roy is responding like this.
“First fucking what?” Roy locks eyes with Jamie and says it through gritted teeth. He doesn’t know how long Jamie is going to continue this bit, but he needs to fucking quit it.
“First date,” Roy grits his teeth harder, his glare getting harsher.
“This isn’t a first fucking date,” He spits out, and Jamie leans back at the tone of the voice. His eyes get wider and he bites down on his bottom lip.
“But, I asked you to be my Valentine?” Jamie questions and tilts his head. It’s the second time he’s said it, he’s really trying to get his point across with it. His voice comes out soft as he repeats it, and Roy realizes that he’s not fucking around with him. Fuck, Jamie thought this was a fucking date, and Roy had no fucking idea. He leans back fully against the couch and stares blankly at Jamie shifting uncomfortably on the couch. His eyes are looking everywhere but at Roy now that they’ve gotten to the root of the conversation.
“I thought you asked me fucking platonically,” Roy whispers out.
“Fucking platonically? I, I fucking cooked you dinner! I made you a fucking dessert that I had to remake because I fucking forgot eggs the first time! I’ve been flirting the whole goddamn night! In what fucking world of yours does that not make this a fucking date?” Jamie says accusingly. Roy runs his hands across his face and tries to ignore the hurt on Jamie’s face. He clenches his eyes shut and tries to find an explanation for how stupid he’s been in this whole situation.
“You really didn’t know?” Roy takes his hands off his face and turns back to look at Jamie. He’s now in the corner of the couch with one of his knees brought up close to his chest. His elbow is propped up on his thigh and he’s anxiously chewing on his thumbnail as he waits for Roy to answer.
“I had no fucking idea. I’m sorry, Jamie,” In hindsight, Roy should have fucking realized. Jamie thought this was a date. He had expensive white wine, a delicious meal accompanied by a decadent dessert, and it’s because Jamie fucking asked him to be his Valentine. Why the fuck would he think that it was platonic? God, Roy has completely screwed up here.
‘“Can you please leave?” Jamie’s voice is wet when he says it. His mouth is full of nauseous saliva and his eyes have tears in them threatening to spill. He feels like an idiot and he just wants Roy out of his house before he can wallow in peace. Roy’s eyes widen and his back straightens as he sees the state Jamie is in, and it’s all his fucking fault. How did he not realize this was a date? It’s Valentine’s Day for fuck sake, and he thought it was platonic to have roses on the table?
He tries to make eye contact with him before he gets up to leave, but Jamie’s eyes are glazed over and pointed down as he stares at a stain on the rug underneath his coffee table. Roy reluctantly rises from the couch and keeps his eyes trained on Jamie as he heads toward the door. Jamie doesn’t look anywhere near him as he makes his way out, and Roy hesitates when he grips the door knob to open it. He looks over his shoulder and sees Jamie’s shoulders shaking slightly. He grips it tighter and pulls it open. Pulls the door shut quietly and then leans his back against it as he closes his eyes trying to figure out what just happened.
-
Jamie sits on the couch trying to catch his breath and hold back the tears begging to be shed. He hears the door shut from behind him, and the automatic lock clicks into place as Roy leaves. He bites down on his knuckles trying to get his mind to focus on something else, but he feels like such an idiot. How could he ever let himself think he’d be able to have this? He should’ve realized Roy didn’t know what he meant. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked in the first place. It seems so juvenile to ask someone out this way, even fucking Roy thought so by saying Phoebe asked him it too. He chokes on a couple of sobs and bites down harder as he clenches his eye shut. Tries to muffle his crying by turning into the cushions, the only sound filling the room echoed by the start of Roy’s car in his driveway. It eventually fades out, and all Jamie can hear is the buzzing in his ears and the sniffling of his nose. He pulls himself up from the couch, walks to the kitchen, takes the flowers from the kitchen table vase, and throws them in the garbage. He doesn’t even glance at them as he walks out of the room and trudges up to his room. Collapses onto his bed, and lets the remaining tears soak onto his pillow.
-
Roy screams fuck and slams on his steering wheel as he pulls out of Jamie’s driveway. His hands are gripped onto it, knuckles turning white, as he scolds himself for his idiocy. The urge to turn around and type in ‘6924’ on Jamie’s keypad, storm right in, and try and fix what he did is overwhelming. The crestfallen expression on Jamie’s face when he realized Roy had no idea what was going on, and the sound of his sadness as he walked out is burned into his mind. Every time it pops back into his mind, despite his trying to stop thinking about it, causes him to slap his palm against the leather of his steering wheel to produce a satisfying sting. When he gets home, he slams his car door shut, slams his front door open, just to slam it shut, and resists the urge to do it repeatedly.
-
The next couple of days are awful. Jamie ignores him at the facility, even when Roy tries to get him to come into his office to try to explain himself. Anytime he comes out to call him, he’s already left the locker room. He even starts showing up just two minutes before training so they don’t have time to talk before then. Jamie doesn’t answer his texts or calls, and he hasn’t been sending him annoying memes like he usually does.
Despite Jamie ignoring him, it doesn’t stop either of them from making longing glances at each other. Roy takes note of the bags underneath Jamie’s eyes that only appear when he’s getting less than six hours of sleep. He sees the bandaids covering his fingers meaning he’s picking at his nails and skin more often than usual and causing them to bleed from the constant agitation.
Jamie can’t stop his eyes from looking at the holes in Roy’s joggers, the ones he only wears when he’s looking for some kind of comfort. He’s drinking more coffee than usual, meaning he hasn’t been getting good sleep. He’s also been ordering in for lunch, and Roy always packs lunch.
Sometimes, they’ll lock eyes on the pitch, and Roy will be overwhelmed by the sadness radiating from Jamie’s eyes. They’ll both look away as soon as they notice the other, neither of them wanting to be the first to say anything. Jamie’s lips are stuck in a pout, and Roy’s are stuck in a scowl from everyone asking if he’s okay.
With everyone asking Roy how he is, it gives him plenty of time to keep being reminded of how he fucked everything up. Every moment starts to run through his mind, the echo of Jamie’s sob haunting him. He lets himself start to think about other scenarios. Like, what would have happened if he knew it was a date? He knows he would pick out a nice bouquet of roses for Jamie. He imagines Jamie smiling at him as he grabs a vase to put them in and place them next to the ones he already had placed on the table. Instead of sitting across from him, Roy would have moved the table setting over to the chair next to Jamie so they could be closer together. When Jamie leaned in to kiss him, Roy would too. Both of them would have the lingering taste of chocolate on their tongues and Roy would be desperate for it. He’d pull Jamie into his lap, grip his thighs, and smile at him as they’d pull back for a breath. He imagines staying the night, Jamie pulling him up the stairs and crawling into bed waiting for him. He fucking imagines everything, and he wishes he could go back in time and have it be the truth.
Which is why he’s standing in front of Jamie’s front door waiting to knock so he can explain himself. He knows the code, he usually just lets himself in. But, he and Jamie hadn’t talked for days and he had no right to do that. So, he brings his hand up to Jamie’s obnoxious door knocker and uses it. He takes a step back and grits his teeth together as he waits. He can hear footsteps approaching and the turn of the deadbolt before he sees Jamie. He looks shocks when he sees Roy standing there, and straightens up at the sight of him.
“Roy,” Jamie whispers, all he can notice is the still-present bags under his eyes. “What are you doing here?”
“I was a fucking idiot,” Jamie’s eyebrows raise at the statement, and he leans against the doorframe. Roy struggles with figuring out what to say, no matter how long he rehearsed it in his head and on the drive over.
“I like the sound of this already,” The relief settles over Roy immediately as they resort back to themselves. Jamie nods at him to continue, and he takes a deep breath before trying to explain himself.
“If I would have known you were serious, I would have treated this fucking serious. I would have brought you flowers, complimented your outfit at the sight of it, and leaned in to kiss you back,” Roy spills out. Jamie’s mouth drops at the words coming from, his arms uncrossing from his chest. “I would fucking do it over again if I could.”
Jamie’s eyes have gone puppy-like, and he’s biting at the dead skin on his lip as he takes in Roy’s speech. His mouth is slightly turned upwards. They’re eye to eye now, and Roy is waiting anxiously for Jamie’s response.
“Yeah, you were a fucking idiot,” He smiles, and Roy can’t help but let out a shocked laugh. Jamie then pushes himself off the doorframe and takes a step closer to him, “So, if I kissed you right now, you wouldn’t fucking reject me?”
“I may be an idiot, but I’m not fucking stupid,” Roy takes the initiative and leans down to press his lips against Jamie’s waiting ones. He wraps one arm around his waist to pull him closer into him, the other moving to cup his cheek. Jamie was prepared for it coming, but the way Roy kisses still makes him lose his breath. He’s scrambling to grip his hands against Roy’s shoulder and keep him in place. Roy notices the slight taste of chocolate and raspberry on Jamie’s tongue and it’s enough for him to grip him harder and pull him closer. Jamie’s hands have to be wrinkling his shirt where they’re gripping, but he can’t bring himself to give a fuck. The only thing he cares about is trying to get his mouth back on Jamie when he pulls back.
“Come in?” Jamie is already walking backward into the house, and Roy isn’t going to let this slip from his fingers again. He follows him in, shuts the door behind him, hears the door lock in place, and finally everything feels right. He notices the flowers on Jamie's kitchen table are starting to wilt, and he makes a note to himself to replace them. But, it's hard to concentrate on that when Jamie is pushing him onto the couch to straddle his hips and get back to where they left off on the doorstep.