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Jamie does a cartwheel and drops to one knee, arms spread, hands out. He pants heavily, his face shiny and hair messy. It doesn't wipe the wide smile on his face or the twinkle in his eyes.
"Ta-da!”
“Hm, that was okay,” Roy teases, throwing a tennis ball up in the air and catching it. “I think you can do better.”
“Rooooy!” Jamie whines, eyes following the neon ball. “Did the cartwheel five times already! I wants the ball!”
“Hm, maybe another five?” Roy chuckles at the face Jamie makes at him, cheeks puffed and brows furrowed. “Fine. Once more, and it’s fetch time, boy.”
Jamie gets on his feet quickly, dashing to the spot in the back where they set a marker. There were a few people scattered around and dogs roaming the fields. It was a big park, and they were by the water, far away from everyone.
“Look! Look!” Jamie hopped on his spot, making sure Roy had his attention on him. “Ready, coach!”
Roy chuckles at the sight of Jamie bouncing around in the distance like a jack-jumping ant. Jamie begged him to release his pent-up energy after another night under the sheets. Lad was mad, jumping on Roy's counters and furniture and almost knocking Roy down with tackling hugs and piggybacks. How Roy managed to survive a grown man wrestling for a hug was the amount of painkillers one could consume in a day and survive.
“Whissstleee! Whisssstleee!” Roy shouts, and Jamie starts cartwheeling gracefully, body twisting and bending with ease. Some people stop to watch the flexible man do twirls and handstands, stuck in a trance. Jamie does the splits, both in the air and on the ground, and he slides his legs up together smoothly. He bends back, his face at Roy, smirking — always confident, never wavering — and does a solid backflip thrice in a row, the last one ending on a small spin.
People clap and cheer from a distance, and Jamie thrives in it all. His final landing is the same as always: a cartwheel and landing on one knee, arms out.
“Taaaa-daaaa!” Jamie pants, heavier, but his body is vibrating for another go.
“Come here,” Roy gestures at him, and Jamie crawls over the small gap between them, much to Roy's amusement.
“Fucking weirdo,” Roy chuckles, petting Jamie's head when he's close. “Walk like a normal person, wanker.”
Jamie responds with his tongue out and hands pawing at Roy's trousers. When the tennis ball was in sight, Jamie’s head was empty of thoughts and filled with the ball.
“All right. Let's have at it,” Roy's grip on the ball goes tight, and he pulls his arm back far. Jamie scrambles into a runner's stance and waits.
“Fetch, boy!” Roy swings his arm, and the ball soars into the sky with a whistle. Jamie is gone in the blink of an eye, his growls growing distant. Roy watches from his spot as Jamie runs at an inhumane speed for a simple ball. It was crazy what being on top did to the lad.
Roy still refused to do the stupid play that the other coaches were pushing on him. They didn't need to go that far, and they were doing well in the season. Jamie had yet to connect the dots on where this burst of energy came from and assumed it was what he was eating and not last night's activities.
Roy would be lying if he didn't love how daft Jamie could be... His little oblivious puppy.
Jamie gets the ball before it touches the ground. He's far, and Roy counts the seconds it takes for him to run back. Jamie leaps over when he’s close to Roy and sticks his hand out with the ball.
“Ball! Ball!” Jamie breathes out, eyes shimmering wide from the wind cutting through him, cheeks flushed and hollowing out his screaming lungs, hair sticking and framing his moist, beaming face. In Roy's eyes, Jamie's never looked so adorable.
“Under a minute to run back. Impressive," Roy says and takes the ball from Jamie's hand. “Good boy.”
Jamie yips loud and proud, getting on his knees for head pats, and Roy would roll his eyes at his boyfriend being silly.
“You can get head pats while standing.” Roy sighs, giving Jamie what he wanted, his hands combing through the loose, soft threads. “Who’s a good boy?”
Jamie keeps yipping, stopping to whine when Roy snags tangled hair. He brings his face up, rubbing his cheek along Roy’s calloused hand, eyes closed in blissful contentment and squeaking quietly, his throat bobbing. Roy coos at him, caressing the sweaty face gently and giving the cheek a pinch. People around give them giggling looks, having seen them do weirder shit the times they've come to the park.
From tying Jamie up while Roy rode a bike to Jamie catching a frisbee with his mouth, and to giving Jamie a fucking treat on his knees, Roy was thinking he was dating a dog rather than a human man.
Roy looked past all these little quirks of Jamie, who opened up more and more as they got closer. Roy secretly loved it, oddly enough. There was something intriguing about Jamie acting the way he did, and the obedience was doing something to Roy... As long as the prick didn’t crawl to him with a leash in his mouth, Roy was happy to follow along.
Though, that would be kind of cute to walk him around... Roy thinks, blushing. While that was a little too extreme for his taste, he would consider it... Whatever they were doing now was simple fun.
“All right. Get into position, boy. The ball is about to depart.” Roy pulls his arm back, giving it a swing for good measure. Jamie yips and jumps into position the second after. His feet kicked into the soft dirt, excited to see the flying neon.
“Reaaaady,” Roy drawls out, taking a deep breath. “Seeeet.”
Jamie narrowed his eyes to the grand blue and greens, hands balled in the grass.
“GO!” Roy throws the ball hard, and Jamie sprints the moment his vision picks up the ball going over his head. The whoosh of the wind cuts his growls and howls, and he’s a blur to Roy.
Roy watches, putting a hand over the roof of his forehead to block out the sun. Jamie was close to getting the ball until… Dogs around him joined him in the chase. Roy holds in his laugh when Jamie panics from the dozens of dogs going after him and trying to outrun them all, his arms frantically reaching out for the ball in the sky.
The owners around laugh, trying to whistle for their dogs, but everyone’s met with barks. Jamie jumps high for the ball and grabs it straight from the sky. He races back to Roy, with a stampede of dogs of various breeds and colours following close behind.
Roy swallows, and he braces for the impact of dirty paws and the smell of wet fur. It's his fault for taking Jamie during the peak hours of dog walkers.
“Roooooy!” Jamie’s distressed voice calls out to him. Roy finally lets out his laughs when Jamie’s close, and his face is that of terror from the army following him. Roy knew Jamie was more scared of losing his favourite toy to one of these hounds chasing him.
“Heeelp!” Jamie runs into him at half speed and almost makes Roy fall from the impact. Luckily, Roy was ready for it, and his knee was fine, thankfully. His backside aches a little, but it's manageable.
“I see you’ve made friends and brought them over,” Roy chuckles when the dogs surround them, their paws up on them for the ball in Jamie’s hand, with their tongues hanging out and their barks playful. The smell was bearable, and the mutts were cute. But Roy never wanted a dog because of how much work they are and his work schedule.
Jamie was the closest thing to one.
“They wants meh ball!” Jamie cries out, huddling close to Roy and cradling the ball to his chest. “Tell thems to go away!”
“They want to play with you, Jamie. Sharing is caring.”
“Nu! Meh ball!”
“Jamie, be nice. We have lots of balls at home and an extra one in my pocket.”
“Nu! I want this one!” Jamie pouts angrily up at Roy and glares at the dogs that are now waiting patiently for the ball to be thrown, seated, mouths open and calm, their eyes glued to Jamie’s treasure in hand.
“Bad boy,” Roy says, taking the ball and pointing to the ground. “Sit, boy.” Roy keeps his face straight, trying his best to be stern without cracking a smile at how ridiculous this was. Was he seriously telling Jamie to get on the ground with the rest of the pack? Maybe Roy wanted to see how far he could push it with this weird quirk of Jamie’s.
Jamie whimpers and whines and kicks a tuft of grass, but does as he is told, sliding down to his knees with his head up in obedience. Roy has to look away to compose himself because Jamie, on his knees with a pouting face, surrounded by dogs, is the funniest thing Roy has seen in his life.
Roy coughs to clear his throat, making everyone's ears perk up. “Listen up, mutts. Whoever gets this ball gets head pats and is allowed to give me licks and kisses!"
The crowd barks at him excitedly, and Jamie barks along, excited to think he could lick Roy’s face, and Roy believes Jamie’s previous past life was that of a dog because he was barking an actual bark.
Roy pulls his arm back, dipping for maximum altitude. The dogs jump up, turning their bodies towards the field, and wait.
Jamie gets into position, determined.
Roy chuckles, and the dog owners have huddled near them, watching the silliness with smiles. They bet on who’s going to get the ball, and Roy isn’t too sure himself, but he wants to think it’s Jamie because that’s his pup.
“Ready! Set! GO!” Roy throws the ball with full strength, and it flies the highest it’s ever been thrown.
Chaos follows it a split second. It’s a tiny Chihuahua that runs first, its little barks deafening, followed by a border collie, then a German Shepherd, a greyhound, a couple of golden retrievers, a shih tzu, a French bulldog, and others of mixed breeds. Then Jamie sets off when there's room for him to bolt, barking and growling and telling the fuckers to get out of the way.
A lone dachshund runs from behind, its little legs trying to catch up with the crowd that’s halfway gone, leaving it in the dust.
The owners cheer on their dogs, and the stampede is going wild for the ball in the sky. Jamie is catching up with the zooming border collie in the lead; the goldens are close; the German Shepherd has taken a different route; and the greyhound is right on Jamie’s ass, its nose boinking. The rest of the dogs aren't far behind, and the dachshund keeps running, still far away, their willingness undeterred
It’s incredible how fast Jamie can be when he has his eye set on something. Roy thanks God this energy isn’t used in bed.
Otherwise, Roy would need a body cast and a wheelchair.
The ball starts to lose altitude and drops. The dogs are jumping, and Jamie is hopping along with them, desperate to get the ball for head pats, kisses, and treats.
“Fuck off! Go away! FUCK OFF!” Jamie’s voice boomed over the dogs' yapping. Roy can’t see what exactly is happening from where he stands, but he can see Jamie being jumped by the goldens, who are innocently trying to distract him with their cuteness. The German Shepherd almost has the ball in its mouth, but misses. The greyhound knocks it further up into the air, and a chow chow makes a grand entrance by knocking out any dog in its path.
The ball finally lands, and a pile ensues around it. Jamie dives for it, his body being buried by the dogs. Everyone watches on, breath held to see who the winner is. Roy bites his knuckle, a bit worried. Was Jamie okay? There were a lot of dogs around his boyfriend, and he wasn't sure the dogs were going to bite him.
Roy would choke a dog out if it bit Jamie or made him cry.
Seconds roll by, and Roy's about to start screaming for the mutts to get off, but to Roy's relief, Jamie’s hand pokes out from the pile, waving.
What emerges after makes Roy smack his face. Of course Jamie would take it this far.
Jamie has the ball in his mouth, his hands used to shove the crowd away, and he is fighting for his life. Once free, Jamie starts to cartwheel and do tricks in the air, all while being careful of his surroundings, and the dogs who know tricks jump with him, doing their own backflips and twirls in the air. Some dance on their hind legs with their paws straight out and tails wagging. The dog owners cheer Jamie on, clapping at the little show he gives them, and it makes Jamie do another round of cartwheels for them. Roy rolls his eyes, knowing he won't hear the end of this when they get home.
Jamie keeps doing his little tricks halfway across the field and starts to zoom right at Roy when the dogs start coming at him for the ball in his mouth. Roy has his arms open and braces for the wall coming at him.
Jamie jumps high and right into Roy's arms, legs grappling and hooking around the waist and letting go of the wet ball. It gets lodged between their chests, and the dogs surround them once again, their paws scratching at their legs and barking for the ball.
"Gots the ball!” Jamie gasps at Roy and brings his mouth along the beard, messily slobbering kisses along the hidden jawline and tongue gliding along the stubble hairs. As promised, Roy lets Jamie lick and kiss his face lovingly, grimacing at the amount of drool coating his skin.
“Good boy,” Roy tells him, and it makes Jamie hysterical to hear the simple phrase, his kisses and licks becoming vicious and leaving marks.
“Enough! Fuck—stop!” Roy yelps when Jamie starts going for his ears, tugging at the lobes with little growls. He wouldn't mind those at home, but here, with the dogs watching, he was making him go red.
Jamie hops off and gives Roy a proper kiss on the lips. The ball almost falls when their chests come apart, but Roy grabs it in time. The dogs go crazy when the ball appears in their line of vision, their barking chorus begging for it to be thrown.
Before Roy can, he hides the ball in his pocket and grabs out a baggie, shaking it at Jamie. There are different types of biscuits and dried fruit covered in chocolate in the baggie, and Jamie’s favourite is among them.
“Treat! Treat! Treat!” Jamie bounces in his spot, hoping for a dried mango. “Treat!”
Roy opens the bag and the divine smells hit the sharp noses of their new friends.
“No, not for you guys,” Roy tells the dogs, watching out for their curious eyes and those who lick their lips at the dangerous treats in his hands. He grabs out a dried mango covered in a flaking dark chocolate coating, much to Jamie's joy, and hovers it above Jamie’s head.
“Stay.” Roy commands him, waving the treat.
Jamie ceases his bouncing and keeps as still as he can. The dogs follow the command as well, hoping for a treat; Roy makes a mental note to bring regular dog treats for the mutt's next park visit.
“Speak.”
Jamie takes a deep breath, his chest rising with quiet whines that slip out under his breath, and lets out a small, squeaky bark.
“Sit.”
Jamie gets on his knees, head up and eyes unbroken from the treat, and the dogs make room for him. Roy stares at them all and feels powerful with this army at his command. They all follow Roy's hand with the dried mango, anticipating it, but only one good boy will get this treat.
“Good boy,” Roy says, smiling at Jamie, cupping his cheek and placing the dried mango on his lips. “Who's the coach's good boy? That's right, you are, you're a good boy,” Roy coos softly. Jamie smiles shyly, taking the fruit into his mouth and slowly chewing it thoroughly, moaning at the sweetness; this was the closest thing to sugar they had at home.
Roy ruffles Jamie’s hair and massages his face as he chews, and Jamie leans his head into the touches, his vibrating nerves calming down. The dogs would whine for a treat, but they're smart enough to know the ones in Roy's baggie aren't for them; they could always get one from their owners.
What they truly want is the ball in Roy's pocket.
When Jamie swallows, Roy kisses his head and takes out the ball. The calmness in Jamie is swept away, and the burning passion for the ball returns to his eyes. The dogs jumped to their feet, their growls and noises warning all that this ball was theirs now.
“Ready for another go, everyone?”
The army barks a "yes"; Jamie is the loudest voice.
“All right. Get into position. I want to see a proper run this time. That includes you, squirt." Roy looks at the dachshund, who gives Roy a nod.
They all get in a stance, butts wiggling and tails wagging. The owners are closer and cheering on once again.
“Ready!” Roy starts, arm swinging and chest heaving.
The dogs and Jamie heel, sucking in their breaths.
“Set!”
The dogs lower their heads, front paws digging, and back up. Jamie's knees are bent, the tips of his trainers slowly sliding in the grass, ready to boost his sprint.
Roy cracks a smile. He's tempted to pretend to throw it, but the scrutiny of twelve dogs and his boyfriend might be too much for him to handle.
Next time, he thinks.
“FETCH, BOY!” Roy throws the ball high in the sky, and the stampede goes off in barks and yips and squeaks and growls, with Roy's and the dog owners' cheers and claps following them.