Work Text:
Jamie laid stretched out on Roy’s couch as he looked through his phone, waiting for Roy to finish making their tea.
Roy walked through the doorway with two cups of tea. His eyes fell on Jamie. Jamie’s dyed blonde hair, or walnut mist as Jamie always claimed, fanned out behind his head along with the one hand tucked under it. The other hand was holding his phone up lazily. The way he laid on the couch made his shirt hike up, giving Roy a view of Jamie’s abs. An earbud hung from his ears.
Jamie drew his attention from his phone to Roy’s staring figure. “ Are you gonna bring me tea or you just gonna stand there starin’ and let it get cold?” he asked with a small teasing smile.
“If you wanna just stare at me I don’t blame you.” Jamie added with a smirk, as he stretched out his legs, drawing Roy’s attention to his thigh muscles which were more defined due the the tight fabric of the skinny jean he had decided to put on.
“Fuck you, you little prick.” Roy grumbled, as he sort limped forward, due to an injury in knee from his very last game. He set the tea down on a coffee table right next to Jamie’s head.
Jamie's face fell when he saw Roy’s limp.
“I’m sorry.” he whispered, fighting a sudden wave of tears.
Roy’s face turned to one of bewilderment. He noted the way Jamie looked like he was about to cry.
“Fuck you mean?” he inquired, as he sat down on another couch. “You’re always teasing me and you’ve never fucking apologized about that before, and you’ve never fucking went on to fucking crying about it either.”
Jamie sighed softly. “It’s not abou’ tha’ Roy.” he responded, his voice shaking a little, negative thoughts running through his head at a hundred miles per hour.
“Then what the actual fuck are you saying sorry for?” asked Roy, in his usual gruff voice.
Jamie wiped a tear off his cheek and sniffed.
“I don’t even know ‘ow you even stand bein’ around me, let alone datin’ me.” he whispered, as another tear slipped out.
Roy sighed. “Jamie, I have no idea what you’re talking about. You have to explain what’s going on in your head,” he told Jamie, feeling a little concerned now. The feeling of concern in the back of his head got worse as Jamie choked out a sob. Clearly Jamie had started spiraling as Roy had brought their tea and Roy felt a little helpless as he still didn’t know what had caused it.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Jamie whispered as he lost the battle to his tears. Jamie curled into himself as his weeping got louder, tucking even tighter even further into himself .
Roy shuffled closer towards Jamie and wrapped his arms around Jamie’s shaking form. Jamie leaned into his arms, laying his head on Roy’s chest, shaking with uncontrollable sobs.
“Shh,” he said, reaching over and running his thumb across Jamie’s cheek slowly. “It’s all right, love. Just tell me what’s wrong.”
Jamie tried to take a few deep breaths, sucking quick breaths in an attempt to answer Roy. “It’s- It’s just your-, uh, your le- your leg.” he finally managed to choke out, before more violent gasps forced their way out, rattling his whole body.
Roy’s eyebrows knitted in confusion.
‘What is he on about? And what is going on in that head of his?
I swear he’s taken too many headers. He’s making no fucking sense.’
Roy reached behind Jamie's head to stroke his hair and asked as softly as he could, “Jamie what on earth are you on about? What about my leg and how does that have anything to do with me wanting to be around you?”
“It…It’s my- It’s my fau- my fault,” Jamie stuttered, shaking. ‘Just get a grip on yourself and stop being a motherfucking pussy. Men, real men, they don’t fucking cry,’ a voice in Jamie’s head told him, sounding just like his father. Jamie felt a rush of shame. Seriously, what did Roy see in him?
“What?” Roy said incredulously, then groaned. “So that’s what you’re on about, Jamie. Remember how I tackled you, not the other way around? You can be such a dumbass sometimes.” he growled in a soft way.
Jamie sniffled and wiped his nose. “It’s still my fuckin’ fault!” he argued. He had done this. He had ended this star's career, Roy’s career. Roy should hate him, just like he had before. ‘It’s just pity,’ his brain suppled. ‘He pities you cause of how your father treats you.’
Roy just stared at Jamie. “Explain,” he ordered. “Explain it to me how it was your fault.”
“I was runnin’ at the goal, I was tryin’ to beat Richmond,” Jamie said.
Roy sighed. Honestly what was going on Jamie’s head? “That’s the fucking game Jamie,” he sighed. “You were just playing the fucking game. I don’t blame you for that.”
“But-”
“No. I’m not hearing anything more. Now cry out your remaining tears and put this out of your head,” Roy ordered. “Besides, if we are going to blame you then you gave me a gift. You made so I went out on a brilliant play. My career was fucking ending. You just made the end fucking prefect. I wouldn’t want to go out any other fucking way.”
Jamie took a few deep breaths. “Fuck I’m sorry,” he said, laying back down on the couch. “Just another fuckin’ breakdown from Jamie fuckin’ Tartt,” he added with a bitter voice.
Roy grunted. “Give yourself some fucking grace, Tartt.” Roy was ready to protect Jamie from anyone, even his own fucking self. “You’re allowed to break down every now and then.”
Jamie wiped his eyes and nose. “Sorry,” he muttered.
“Shh,” Roy shushed him gently. “It’s okay. Now put it out of your mind.”
“I’m a mess,” Jamie breathed.
“Aren’t we all?” Roy shrugged.
“Yeah, I guess. But I’m like more of a mess than mos’ people,” Jamie sighed sadly.
Roy rolled his eyes. “You’ve been through a lot of shit in your fucking life, Jamie. You have every fucking right to be a mess,” he responded.
Jamie's eyes grew shiny again. “What did I ever do to deserve this?” he asked himself.
“Nothing,” Roy replied. “Have I ever told you what moment made me finally see you?” he asked, sensing Jamie needed a distraction from his own thoughts.
“No,” Jamie said sitting up a little so now he was propped up on his elbows.
“It was that moment after Wembley,” Roy explained. “Seeing how your father treated you explained so much of your shit to me and made me see that you had feelings. Took me fucking long enough.”
“Thanks for the hug,” Jamie said with a broken chuckle, his Mancunian accent thicker than usual.
“I really needed i’. Honestly I though’ you were abou’ to hi’ me or somethin’ like that.”
Roy nodded. He remembered how Jamie’s body tensed up as he walked to him. The way when he (Roy) had wrapped his arms around Jamie, he had seemed frozen from shock for a few seconds. Then he remembered the heartbreaking sobs Jamie had let out and how tightly Jamie had clinged onto him.
“Did Coach Beard really say ‘watch the door’ then rammed me fa- James into the door and say ‘oops’?” asked Jamie. “I’m sorry but everythin’ from when I hi’ him to the moment you hugged me is all… like distan’ I guess. Don’t really remember i’ all too well to be honest .”
Roy smiled. That had been a little funny. “Yep,” Roy answered. “The giant motherfucker deserved it.” Then Roy frowned when he noticed the second part of what Jamie had just said. “And what do you mean distant?”
Jamie smiled, then his smile faded a little when Roy asked the question. “I was so sure me father was going to bea’ me up in fron’ of the whole team,” he sighed. “S like me brain sorta just shu’s off. It’s like I’m not even in me body. Like I guess me brain is tryin’ to protect itself.”
“No one on the fucking team or any one of the coach would have ever allowed that,” Roy growled, wanting Jamie to know as long has he was around the team or anyone at AFC Richmond he would be protected.
Jamie sat up fully and wrapped his arms around Roy, and let out a sad but at the same time grateful sob. “When did you realize that you migh’ have feelin’s for me?” he asked, after a few minutes.
Roy grunted. “Amsterdam,” was his answer.
“What about Amsterdam made yeh realize you loved me?” asked Jamie.
Roy groaned. “Just all the fucking random facts you had. The fucking excitement you had as you showed me around. The way you just seemed to having the best fucking time of your life,” Roy answered.
“Really,” asked Jamie blushing.
“Yeah,” Roy nodded. “Also when you taught me to ride a fucking bike. You were patient and did your fucking best to help.”
Jamie looked down and chuckled. Then he picked up his tea, then put it down when he had a thought. “Yeh ‘eld that in that fuckin’ long?” he asked, lightly punching Roy’s arm. “Why didn’t yeh say anythin’ to me? Like I would ‘ave just told you I felt the same way.”
“How the fuck was I supposed to know?” he asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe the way I always wanted your fuckin’ attention on me,” Jamie answered. “Or the way I ran to you and nobody else, beggin’ you to train me. Or the way I clinged onto you durin’ tha’ hug. Or run to you when I’m ‘avin’ a breakdown. Or the way I’m also smilin’ and laughin’ around you when you’re actually payin’ me attention, and really sad when you’re not. Or maybe the fact that I looked up to you and had a fuckin’ poster of you on me wall. I think I made it quite obvious.”
“I don’t know all that. I thought you were fucking straight,” Roy shrugged.
“Oh, for fucks sake,” Jamie muttered to himself throwing himself to the back of the couch. “What could possibly make you think tha’? And don’t tell me tha’ it’s cause I never said anythin’ and only said I was flattered when everyone though’ I migh’ be gay. Coz I like ooze bisexuality.”
“Are you sure that’s a word?” asked Roy, raising an eyebrow.
“That’s the part you’re focusin’ on?” Jamie muttered. “Bisexuality? Yes, I’m pretty sure. If not then ‘oo the fuck cares?”
“Me you prick,” said Roy. “It makes you sound fucking stupid at times.”
“And I’m fuckin’ stupid at times. So what the fuck?” Jamie shrugged. Then picked up his phone and typed “Is 'bisexuality’ a word?” not noticing that Roy was talking to him.
“Well it’s not autocorrectin’ me so I think it’s a word,” Jamie said, still looking at his phone. “Whether or not I’m usin’ it correctly is another question.” Then he looked up at Roy. “You said somethin’ to me?”
Roy shrugged. “It’s not important. Just told you that you do a good job by adding in ‘at times’,” Roy answered.
Jamie blushed. “Thanks,” he shrugged. “I mean you’re tellin’ me all the time ‘ow I’m not like completely dumb. I’m just dumb in certain situations.”
Roy smiled then, to change the subject, nodded to the earbud that was still in Jamie’s ear. “You listening to anything?” he asked, curious.
Jamie shrugged. “Sor’ of,” he answered. “Like it’s still playin’ in me ear but I’m not really payin’ attention to i’.”
“So music?”
Jamie nodded.
“Any particular artist or album?” Roy asked, crossing his arms.
“Jus’ one song. You know tha’ one I found. Family Line,” Jamie answered with a shrug.
“Why do you like it so fucking much?” inquired Roy. He listened to it once and thought it was fine but didn’t really feel the need to listen to it again.
Jamie laughed. There was something a little broken in his laugh, that tugged at Roy’s heartstrings. “Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?” he cried incredulously. “I relate to that song so fuckin’ much, Royo.”
Roy thought for a second. “That makes sense,” he grunted to Jamie, nodding.
“Course i’ does,” Jamie said, shaking his head. Then he picked up his tea and took a sip. “Waited too long. Fuckin’ cold tha’ is.”
“Then fucking heat it up in the fucking microwave,” Roy growled as Jamie stood up.
“What do you think I’m doin’ mate?” Jamie exclaimed, throwing out his free hand in exasperation. He had once thrown out both hands while holding tea and split tea all over Roy’s rug, and still hadn’t lived it down. “It’s what mos’ people would do innit? It’s not like I’m tha’ stupid.”
“See you’re learning,” Roy chuckled as Jamie walked off, both of knowing that Roy was talking about the tea incident.
Jamie threw his middle finger up behind him at Roy. “Fuck you,” he said.
Roy just roared with laughter.
Jamie rolled his eyes but smiled as he got into the kitchen and set his tea in the microwave. It was the best feeling in the world making Roy laugh like that. He could count off his fingers the number of people in the world capable of doing that on one hand. He had his hand down where Roy couldn’t see it and put up his index finger. “One Jamie Tartt,” he said, smiling down at his hand. And that was it. That was the list.
