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Roy knows that Jamie is smart, actually. He’s just also a bit of an airhead, who on occasion uses the wrong words. But even the words he misuses are bigger words than Roy’s ever used, and that says something about Jamie, or maybe just about Roy.
Jamie’s brains aren’t what makes him money, and Roy suspects that no one aside from Georgie and Simon really encouraged Jamie in the intellectual realm.
But Roy keeps finding himself taken back by instances where Jamie shows off his brain.
It’s kind of hot, if Roy’s being honest. Which he tries not to be, at least when it comes to his feelings about Jamie Tartt. It’s too confusing. Easier to just keep doing what they’re doing, which is spending every spare moment together.
Which gives Roy a front row seat to Jamie’s big brain.
****
“I just don’t get it, Uncle Roy!! I’ve tried and tried, but it doesn’t make sense. It makes me feel so stupid.”
Phoebe’s voice carries from the kitchen, where she’s set herself up doing her homework, into the lounge, where Jamie is sprawled on the couch. Things must be bad for her to use that word.
“You are not stupid, Phoebe. These fucking fractions are what’s stupid!”
Roy can’t help the frustration bleeding out. He’s not frustrated with Phoebe, of course, but rather with himself for not being able to help her. He never worked hard in school, not to mention the fact that his lessons in fractions were multiple decades ago.
Roy hears the sound of shuffling slide-ons as Jamie makes his way to the table.
“What’s this then?” Jamie pulls out the chair next to Phoebe, who is resting her head on her crossed arms, clearly overwhelmed, on the verge of crying and trying not to show it.
“Phoebe has to do these stupid fucking fractions and I don’t have a fucking clue how to help her and Google isn’t helping either.”
Jamie rests his hand gently on Phoebe’s head. The gesture makes Roy’s heart clench.
He gives the corner of her paper a tug, trying to pull it closer to himself.
“Mind if I take a look, Phoe?”
Phoebe takes a deep breath and raises her arms a bit. She keeps her head down, though.
Jamie straightens the papers and grabs the workbook from Roy, who has been taking out all of his frustrations on it. It’s practically in tatters. Unbothered, Jamie smooths it out and turns to the page that’s marked. He flips back and forth between a few pages, makes a couple marks on Phoebe’s paper, then rubs her back.
“Okay, Phoebe, I can help with this. Won’t take us long at all. I’ve got some tricks I can show you. Maybe your uncle Roy can make us a cuppa? Don’t wanna share all my secrets with him, do I?”
Jamie looks up to see if Roy will agree. Of course he’s going to agree to make tea. Anything to feel like he’s useful right now.
He makes his way to the otherside of the kitchen and grabs three mugs. Just as the kettle boils, he hears Phoebe giving a watery laugh.
Thank fuck. He cannot deal with tears.
Roy drops the mugs of tea off at the kitchen table. Jamie’s voice is low as his pencil flies across the page, talking Phoebe through each step. She’s nodding along, as if she actually understands what Jamie is telling her, which is a huge improvement from whatever Roy and her were doing before.
He retreats to start prepping dinner, the sound of Phoebe’s gasp of understanding followed by a giggle washing away most of his bad mood.
Roy has everything he needs to make Jamie his favorite salmon for dinner. He’s earned it after all. Who would have known Jamie was good at maths?
****
The next time Roy is confronted by evidence of Jamie’s smarts is during a team dinner. He’s seated near Rebecca and Leslie, and Trent is there, too, for some reason. The only thing saving Roy is that Jamie has taken the seat to his right. If nothing else, Jamie will be good for keeping the conversation running.
He tunes out a bit when Rebecca and Trent start talking about books. Roy knows his taste in books is not very sophisticated, but what the fuck does he care. He likes a good thriller or something that keeps him guessing til the end. He hasn’t been able to capture that mind-blown feeling he got the first time he read the Di Vinci code, but he is optimistic about finding it again someday.
He tunes back in when he hears Jamie’s voice.
“Nah, mate, I was not expecting to enjoy it, but there’s some crazy shit there. There’s this hilarious section where she’s like “it’s better if the priest is ugly, because when the priest is too hot, no one pays attention to what he’s saying and it gets real crowded, too. It’s mad.”
Roy glances around to see Rebecca, Higgins and Trent all looking surprised. “What the fuck are you talking about, Tartt?”
“Jamie was telling us his opinion on The Pillow Book of Sei Shonagon.” Trent says. “I have to admit I’m a little surprised you’ve read it, Jamie.” Rebecca and Higgins both nod in agreement.
“Well, honestly, when I got it, I thought it was going to be different, you know? Based on the name. Thought it was something racy. But then I started reading it and really got into it.”
Jamie smiles at Roy, who can’t help but smile back. What is happening right now?
“Yeah, there’s like lists of things she likes. Or things she thinks are depressing. The sound of dogs barking in the night, or raindrops on the roof. Stories of being a courtesan or whatever. It’s interesting because there are things that just feel relatable, you know what I mean?”
“Jamie, I can’t say that I do know what you mean, but it sounds like something I might like to read.” Rebecca still seems a little surprised, but she’s doing a better job hiding it than Leslie, who’s looking a little dumbfounded.
“Hey, maybe we should start a book club? At the club? I know Sam likes reading, and so does Jan Mass.”
Jamie elbows Roy to get his attention, which is stupid because Roy is very much paying attention right now.
“You think Beard might want to join?”
Roy sort of nods, and shrugs, and shakes his head all at the same time. Jamie barrels right past this mixed up reaction.
“Bet if we put some Dan Brown in, you’d be willing to come too, right coach?”
Jamie has the audacity to wink right at Roy.
Rebecca, Trent and Higgins evidently think this book club is a stellar idea, good for team morale or something. Trent has his ever present notebook out, making a list of book possibilities for the inaugural meeting. Roy cannot seem to tear his eyes away from Jamie, which is fine, because Jamie is looking right back, sweet smile dimpling his cheeks.
A week later, a poster is hanging in the changing room announcing the Club Book Club, with a sign up sheet. It’s got a little greyhound sketched in the corner.
Roy is not surprised to see Jamie’s name is the first one listed. He is a little surprised that Isaac’s is next, but Isaac takes his captain duties very seriously. Even if reading is not his usual form of recreation, he’ll give it a go in the name of teamwork.
By the afternoon, they’ve had to add a second sign up sheet. Looks like the entire first and second team, along with a bunch of support staff are interested.
Roy is looking at the sheet when he feels Jamie pressing against his side, tucked up into what Roy has started thinking of as his usual spot.
“You thinking of joining, Gaffer?”
Roy just grunts.
“Better be quick. Looks like we’re filling up fast.”
Roy grunts again.
Jamie moves away from him, heading out to the pitch. He turns back just as he reaches the door.
“If we run out of space, I’d be happy to meet one-on-one to talk about books with you.”
That bastard winks again. That wink is going to be the death of Roy. He just knows it.
****
During one of their free evenings a week or so later, Jamie somehow talks Roy into going with him to a special private event at some museum. And by “talking him into it,” Roy means Jamie asked and Roy immediately agreed. Roy doesn’t mind art, even likes some of it. So it isn’t that much of a hardship.
This event, however, is not art. Or not what Roy thinks of as art.
It’s clothes. Like a lot of clothes. On mannequins and hanging on hangers. Draped across walls. There’s some piles of cloth, as well as a little book of material that reminds Roy of visiting his tailor.
Roy’s not sure what to think.
He’s got a flute of champagne, so at least that’s familiar. But pretty much nothing else is.
Even stranger is Jamie. He’s practically running from display to display, talking a mile a minute to the curator. She’s trying to keep up with all of Jamie’s questions, but Roy can tell she’s feeling a little overwhelmed.
He puts his hand on Jamie’s elbow, trying to give the poor woman some breathing room.
“Let’s go sit for a minute.”
“Oh yeah, don’t want to tire you out! There’s still a lot to see.”
Roy leads them to a bench that’s facing a row of mannequins, dressed in outfits Roy can’t begin to comprehend. They settle next to each other, closer than necessary, but Roy doesn’t care about that shit. He likes sitting close to Jamie.
“So what’s this all about? Thought we’d see some paintings or shit. Sculptures maybe?”
“Well, Roy, did you know that Manchester is where the Industrial Revolution got started here in England?”
Of course Roy didn’t know that. Who would know that?
“Yeah, guess the climate was good for cotton or summat. Well not growing it, but making stuff from it. Textiles.”
Roy nods in what he hopes is an encouraging way. He’s realized he likes when Jamie shows off his smarts.
“Well, in school we had to pick a topic about the city to write about. I picked the textile mills. It’s real interesting, and honestly, changed what Manchester was meant to be.”
Roy lets Jamie’s voice wash over him. He’s trying to pay attention, because what Jamie thinks about and what interests him is important to Roy. He’d never have guessed Jamie knew about something like this.
It makes Roy like him more - not that the topic is particularly interesting to Roy, it’s just seeing the light in Jamie’s eyes as he tells Roy about a particular kind of fabric, and a certain fashion designer that made magic with it, is extremely compelling.
When he notices Jamie has stopped talking, he discovers he’s been staring at Jamie’s mouth. He wonders how long he’s been doing it. He lifts his eyes to Jamie’s.
Jamie draws in a small breath. It’s almost a gasp. Roy is very interested in that sound. Wonders what he’d need to do to hear it again.
He presses even closer into Jamie. He hopes Jamie understands it to mean Roy cares about what he’s talking about. Cares about anything Jamie has to say, really.
It must work because Jamie smiles, takes a deep breath, then launches into another story about a designer he really likes. This time Roy pays closer attention, so he can ask questions when it’s appropriate.
He’s not really surprised to find himself growing more and more interested in the topic as Jamie continues on. He didn’t think he gave a fuck about fashion or the history of textiles, but hearing the way Jamie talks about it is giving him an understanding he didn’t have before.
The curator rejoins them and they continue on their tour. Roy pays closer attention this time and is rewarded every few moments by a look from Jamie, or a smile, or an arm squeeze.
If Roy can have Jamie like this, smart and serious and sweet, he’ll go with him to anywhere he wants to go.
On the drive home, Roy asks “So is this why you’re always dressed so…”
He makes a gesture with his hand. He’s not sure how to finish that sentence.
“Fashionably? Outlandishly? Ravishingly?” Jamie laughs as he says it.
“Yeah. That.”
Jamie shrugs.
“Just like being able to support up-and-coming designers, now that people pay attention to what I wear. It’s nice to give someone a chance, you know?”
It’s more thought than Roy has ever put into what he wears. Obviously. But it fits with this Jamie. The one who is thoughtful and intelligent and apparently knows things about books and history and maths. Fashion. Who knows what else.
Roy takes tonight and puts it in the place in his heart and mind where he keeps all the other things he’s learned about Jamie over the years.
He can’t believe how full it is. Can’t believe how much fuller he wants it to get.
****
The pitch is one place Roy knows without a doubt that Jamie has above average intelligence. It was clear the moment Total Football finally clicked for the whole team, there in the Arsenal locker room.
Yes, Jamie had the advantage of being coached by Pep for several years, but still, the way he took to his role is unbelievable. He sees things in the moment that Roy’s team of analysts and strategists have to watch two or three times to see.
But what really sets Jamie apart is his ability to communicate the vision with the rest of the team. Once he knew he had their trust, there is nothing that can stop him from getting his teammates onto the same page as he is.
When Roy gets to the pitch after his meeting with management and marketing, Jamie is talking animatedly with Richard, Bumbercatch and Declan. He’s tapping his chest, then Richard’s, then Moe’s. Roy knows Jamie is trying to make them understand a play they’ve been struggling with.
Richard and Moe both start nodding, and Declan claps his hands together. Jamie beams, then leaves them with a bum-slap each. He runs over to Will to grab some water.
Roy joins him at the water table.
“You alright? How was the meeting?”
“Fine. Branding bullshit. What was that about?” Roy gestures with his head towards the trio Jamie just left.
“Ah, just trying to get them to click with that set piece we were working up the other night. I think it’s going to really smash, but Richard was all up in his head”
Roy nods. Richard has seemed to be distracted lately. Good on Jamie for noticing.
“Anything I need to be concerned about?” Roy asks.
“Nah. Summat to do with his girlfriend, or her mum, maybe? My French isn’t so good, but I think that’s what he said to Zoreaux.”
“Since when do you speak French?” Roy’s pretty sure he would have known that about Jamie.
“Don’t. Just pick up things here and there. Got a little Spanish, little French. Even a little Welsh, but that’s mostly cursing I think. Colin can get right nasty when he loses his temper. Creative, though. Almost as good as you”
Jamie elbows Roy and gives him his best shit-eating grin. Roy chokes down a laugh and instead just shakes his head. Once again, he feels like he’s seeing a side of Jamie he didn’t know about.
“Okay mate, gotta go chat with Sam. He asked me to talk him through that transition he’s been having issues with.”
Jamie squeezes Roy’s shoulder and bounces over to Sam’s side, greeting him with a side hug. Roy can’t help but stare at Jamie. He doesn’t stop until he hears Beard approaching.
“He’s a lot sharper than we give him credit for, isn’t he?”
They both watch as Dani and Roberts join Sam and Jamie. The three of them are circled up in front of Jamie as he gesticulates wildly. Whatever he’s saying makes them burst out laughing, falling all over each other. Jamie just smiles, pleased at the reaction.
“Yeah. He really is.”
Roy doesn’t even try to hide how fondly he says it. If Beard hasn’t already guessed how Roy feels about Jamie, then he’s an idiot.
****
Roy Kent has been busting his ass trying to complete his UEFA Pro License course for the last 6 months. The club has kept his lack of proper accreditation fairly quiet, but he and Rebecca have been splitting the £25k fine for every match he is in charge of.
The money isn’t an issue, they are both rich as fuck, but it’s the principle of the thing. He’d managed to cram both the B and A license into his first year of coaching under Ted, but the pro license had been a lot harder.
It’s the reason he’s currently in his office, tearing his hair out, while Jamie is moving through his lifting routine. He’s got an in-person workshop in a few days, which requires a bunch of work to be done ahead of time. He’s just slammed his laptop shut, pushing it away from him in frustration when he hears Jamie come into the dressing room.
“Hiya!”
Roy just grunts. He can’t deal with Jamie’s cheeriness right now.
“What’s the matter? You look like Grumpy Cat, coach. Grumpy Coach!”
Roy ignores his play on words.
“It’s this fucking license bullshit. And I don’t know how to do this. I never had to study before.”
Jesus, he sounds like a prick. But it’s true. Ever since he was 9 years old, the only thing he had to “study” was the one thing that felt as easy as breathing. He’s not even sure how to approach learning something new at his age.
He pushes his laptop even further away, as if the extra 6 centimeters of distance will make him feel better.
Jamie is one of the only players who is fully aware of the situation with Roy. Even if he and Roy weren’t best friends, they spend so much time together, Roy couldn’t possibly have kept it a secret.
Not to mention how nosy the little prick is. If Roy hadn't told him what was going on, he suspects Jamie would have followed him to St. George’s Park the first time he’d had to go there for a workshop.
It would be annoying if Roy didn’t find it so endearing.
Jamie hums, then gets a look on his face. It’s the look Roy thinks of as his scheming look.
“What?”
“You’re coming to mine tonight, Roy.”
“Fuck no. I don’t have time. I’ve got to get this done”
“Nah. You’re gonna like this. I promise.” Jamie pulls his phone out of his pocket to check the time.
“Be there at 6:15. Bring all your shit. I’ll order take away. Trust me, lad. I’ve got you.”
And god help him, Roy does trust him. Jamie waits long enough for Roy to growl out “fine” before he’s grabbing his bags and speeding out the door.
At 6:13, Roy is on Jamie’s doorstep, about to knock. The door flies open. Jamie’s standing there grinning at Roy’s raised fist.
“You’re early, coach!”
“Shut the fuck up. It’s two minutes, you prick.”
Roy shoulders past a laughing Jamie, but pauses. This is Jamie’s world after all. Roy’s just living in it.
“Right this way. You want Greek food or Italian?”
Jamie leads them into his dining room. Roy pauses at the entry to take it all in.
The table is covered in notebooks, 2 different sizes of index cards (white and multicolored), what looks like 25 different kinds of post-its, highlighters, pencils and pens. Are those scissors and tape?
There’s even a whiteboard on an easel, complete with the familiar red and blue magnets.
It looks like a photoshoot for an office supply store.
“Uh…” Roy isn’t sure what to say. Jamie had an hour and a half between him leaving Nelson Road til now. Roy has no idea how he managed to pull all this together in such a short amount of time.
“You said you didn’t know how to study. And I’m aces at studying, so I thought this is something I could coach you in.”
“Oh.”
“I mean, we can try it, yeah? I did okay with Phoebe, right? Heard she got a 95% on her last maths test.”
How Jamie and Phoebe became good enough friends to give updates to each other is beyond what Roy is capable of contemplating right now.
Jamie keeps going.
“Simon is a librarian, you know? So he really helped when I was coming up through school. Dead smart, he is. And one thing he always says is 'you’ve got to figure out what works for you, duck'. So that’s why we have all this.”
Jamie gestures to the table.
“We’ve got the highlighters in case colors work. And index cards for memorizing stuff. Notebooks in case you need to write things down. Post-its so we can mark the important stuff. And the whiteboard - I assume you need to use that, right?”
The longer Jamie talks, the more nervous he seems. Roy has to put him out of his misery.
“Jamie. This is really - it’s uh. Really nice.”
Jamie beams. It really doesn’t take much to make him feel good, does it? Roy knows this, but sometimes loses track of it. He wants to do better for Jamie. He’s got to.
“Thank you. Really. Means a lot you’d help with this. And I think Italian sounds good. What do you think?”
“Yeah, mint. I’ll order and you get yourself situated. Want some tea? Or a beer?” Jamie’s already heading to the kitchen, so he can’t see the adoring look Roy shoots him.
Two hours later, the remnants of their meal is set off to the side. Turns out the highlighters are really working for Roy. It helps him to visualize what he’s got to remember somehow.
Jamie probably knows the science behind it and could tell Roy all about it. Maybe he’ll ask him later.
They’ve just started on the final thing Roy has to finish before the workshop.
“You think I could get my coaching license someday?” Jamie asks.
“You want to? Yeah, you’d probably ace it without even having to study.”
Jamie scoffs.
“Yeah, right”
“I mean it. I think you can do anything, Jamie.”
Jamie looks at him with wide eyes. Roy looks right back. He thinks about earlier, about how little it takes to make Jamie happy. He continues.
“You’re so fucking smart. You know about all these fucking obscure things and you do such a good job remembering shit. And don’t even get me started on how brilliant you are on the pitch. The only reason we are doing as well as we are is because of your vision and communication”
He pauses to really look at Jamie. Jamie’s eyes are averted, but he looks pleased at the praise.
“It’s one of the things I love about you.”
Jamie’s head whips around.
“You love something about me?”
His voice is breathy, his cheeks pink.
Roy takes a deep breath.
“I love everything about you, Jamie.”
This is not how Roy imagined his love confession going, but he simply doesn’t see the point in holding back anymore. He’s fought his feelings for long enough. No, not his feelings - he knows his feelings for Jamie Tartt are the best thing about him. But he has been fighting himself about telling Jamie.
Jamie has so much potential. He’s so sharp, so funny. Not to mention stunningly gorgeous. And as much as Roy has been working on himself, working on being kinder to himself, he still worries he’s going to hold Jamie back, if they start something.
But dammit. He wants to try.
He reaches his hand across the table, hoping Jamie will understand what he wants. His hand is immediately filled with the warmth of Jamie’s. Of course the little genius gets it.
“I do, Jamie. I love you. You don’t have to say anything back. Don’t have to feel anything back. I just didn’t want to keep going without telling you.”
Jamie squeezes his hand, then pulls Roy closer to him, raising them both to bring their lips together.
It’s exactly like Roy imagined it and nothing like that at all. Roy’s had a lot of first kisses in his life, but he’s never had one like this. It’s all new, but completely familiar. It’s perfect.
He never wants to do anything else for the rest of his life. Kissing Jamie Tartt can be his new full time job. Fuck coaching or his license. None of that matters.
They stay like this for a while, until Roy’s back starts to ache from how he’s leaning in. He doesn’t want to pull away, but has to. Fucking 40-year-old body.
“Me, too, Roy. I love everything about you, too. Have for a long time.”
They smile at each other across the table.
“You think we’ve studied enough today?” Jamie asks. The look he gives Roy is threatening to burn him alive from the inside out.
“I don’t know, you tell me. You’re the one in charge here.” Roy can’t believe he just said that, but he means it. He knows he can trust himself in Jamie’s hands.
“In that case, yes. Yes we have.” He gives Roy a wickedly sexy look, as if he’s pondering something.
“Actually, come to think of it, I could do with a little more studying. Say, some anatomy? Maybe have some kind of live demonstration?”
Jamie waggles his eyebrows at Roy. God, Roy adores this man.
“Yeah, professor. I could use some tutoring. On your anatomy, specifically. Lead the way.”
Jamie grabs him by the hand and pulls him along behind him. They head straight to Jamie’s bedroom.
Roy doesn’t intend to leave until he has to go to St. George’s.
Or maybe ever.