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"Fucking fuck. What the hell. Goddamnit. Fuck this."
"You okay, Coach?" Jamie called from the other side of the weight room.
"Fuck no! Forgot to put on my fucking sunscreen!" Roy had just returned from his beach trip with Phoebe and Ruth, and he had forgotten the number one rule for naps in the sun: use your goddamn sunscreen.
Jamie winced in sympathy. "Shit, mate. You want some aloe?"
"I'm not taking fucking drugs from you, Tartt."
"'s not drugs," Jamie said, staring flatly at Roy, "'s this fuckin' plant shit. Makes burns all better like. I've got some in me cubby, yeah?"
Roy considered it for a moment. "Fine. As long as you're not fucking poisoning me. And you finish your sets first."
Jamie looked stupidly happy at Roy's acquiescence, a million-watt grin splitting his face. "Yes Coach!" he shouted, and resumed his workout with renewed vigor.
---
Roy's back and shoulders were still burning hot 20 minutes later, when Jamie had completely finished his sets. He still looked far too giddy about this. Never a good sign, in Roy's experience. (Though that didn't change the way his heart fluttered at the spark in Jamie's eyes.)
Jamie downed his sports drink at a speed that Roy usually would've reprimanded him for. Today, he was too busy trying to ignore the feeling of his shirt over the raw areas of sunburn to care.
Jamie hopped up onto the bench, reaching into his cubby and behind his Lynx stash to pull out a clear plastic bottle with transparent green gel inside of it. "The doctor's in, old man!" he said as he jumped back down. Roy rolled his eyes. (He did not love the twat, no matter what Pheebs tried to tell him.)
Jamie motioned for Roy to sit on the bench at the center of the room. "Hafta take off your shirt too, granddad. Shame that you've gone senile in your old age."
"Fuck off," Roy growled at him, doing what he said nonetheless.
As soon as his shirt hit the ground, he felt a strange, cold sensation on his back. "What the fuck!" He jumped up and turned around to stare at Tartt, who was grinning abashedly at him, green goop in his hands.
"Sorry mate," he tried to suppress a laugh, "Can be a bit cold, yeah?"
Roy sat back down and glared at him again, while Jamie tried and failed to not giggle. He smoothed the aloe over Roy's back again, but this time Roy was prepared and didn't react except to let out a small hiss.
This isn't so bad, he realized. Maybe Tartt is good for more than just a pretty face.
He quickly got lost in the soothing feeling of cold gel on his burnt skin, zoning out until Jamie tapped on his shoulder, silently asking him to bend his neck.
Neither of them talked for what felt like forever, Jamie only nudging Roy when he needed to move to do the backs of his legs and thighs. The aloe dried tacky and uncomfortable, but the relief from his injuries was worth it.
Eventually Jamie finished applying the aloe to all of Roy's burns, wiping his hands off on his trackies. "All done, Coach!" he declared, clapping his hands together.
Roy stood from the bench and stretched. "...Thank you," he said, a show of (mostly) put upon reluctance. "That was... nice."
He didn't think a smile could be that bright, but leave it to Jamie Tartt to surpass his expectations. (As always.) "No problem, granddad! Now you don't hafta worry about your shoulders hurtin for a while!"
He supposed being cared for wasn't all that bad, especially when even if Tartt was the one doing it. Jamie stored the aloe back in his cubby and finished cleaning up while Roy slid his shirt back on. It was time for dinner, where Jamie would inevitably find something to complain about, despite knowing that Roy knew he loved everything he cooked. Maybe Jamie would stay overnight, and he could make eggs in the morning after their run.
Maybe he would stay forever, where they could take care of each other, applying lotion and cooking meals for the rest of their lives.
Tonight, Roy simply allowed himself a secret smile as they walked out into the cool, damp night air.