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Jamie Tartt missed an easy pass in training. Roy Kent, his coach slash boyfriend, groaned. He gave Roy an apologetic smile. Roy looked down and shook his head. Jamie frowned. He had disappointed Roy; he knew it. He hated disappointing Roy. He tried harder. Soon practice was over and the whole team headed to the locker room.
"Oi, Tartt!" Roy yelled. "Boot room now!"
Jamie sighed then got up and followed Roy. Roy led him to the boot room. “In,” he said. Jamie walked through the doorway and Roy closed the door.
‘Well at least he didn’t slam it. That would mean he’s really pissed,’ Jamie thought.
“What the fuck was that, Tartt?” Roy asked, an angry edge in Roy’s voice.
“I don’t know,” Jamie shrugged.
“Look we have a game with fucking Man city next week. So right now is not the right time for you to be playing like Mr. I’m a fucking good teammate and fucking humble. We need you to go out there and be the prince of all pricks, having the most prickest moments of all your prince of all pricks moments. So fucking dig down and find the complete fucking pri-” Roy ranted then stopped as he looked at Jamie, who had started sobbing. “Whooaa, what’s wrong?” he asked, while thinking, ‘FUCK!!!’ Funny enough this had happened before; Roy telling Jamie to be a prick before a game against Manchester, and Jamie breaking down.
“I don’t know, I don’t know,” Jamie sobbed, while shaking his hands and jumping around. For a small second he thought of how he always had way too much energy. He hated how he could not just stand or sit still. He also hated how easy it was distract him. But he's thoughts were off topic so he focused on Roy.
“Are you dying or some shit?” Roy asked, a strong feeling of déjà vu washing over him.
Jamie violently shook his head.
“Do you feel like you’ve lost your wings, again?” Roy asked worried, he really didn’t want to have to deal with that again.
“No,” Jamie choked out.
“So what the fuck is going on Jay?” asked Roy softly, concerned.
“I don’t know, I don’t know. What’s wrong with me?” Jamie responded. God he wished he knew then he could fix it.
Roy thought for a moment as Jamie stood there crying. “Jamie when did it start to fucking hurt?” he inquired.
Jamie looked at him confused, tears freely streaming down his cheeks.
“Something got to hurt you for you to cry,” Roy said gently, walking over and cupping the side of Jamie’s face. “What was it?”
Jamie thought for a moment. “I… I guess… I don’t … don’t wanna … wanna… yeh … disappoin’ yeh… and I… and I feel l-like… like I have,” he answered.
“Is that all?” Roy asked softly, rubbing Jamie’s cheek with his thumb. “And if it is, then why have you just now started crying?”
“I don’t know,” Jamie weeped, then thought for a moment. “I…I think… i’ started… started to…um… to hur’ when… I… I was scared…. I disappoin’ed… bu’... you bu’... I think… think i’ started to… started burnin’ w-when you… you told me to…. be a… be a… prick.”
“Why?” Roy prompted gently, continuing to rub Jamie’s cheek.
Jamie gasped for air. “I don’t know,” he repeated.
“Just think Jay,” Roy told him.
Jamie did just what Roy told him. When he realized, the tears thickened up. He could barely breathe. “R-Roy, I… I don’t… don’t … be… wanna be … a…prick,” he gasped out.
Roy moved his hand off of Jamie’s face and wrapped both arms around Jamie’s chest and pulled him close, Jamie naturally rested his head in the crock of Roy’s neck. Roy’s heart broke when he felt every one of Jamie’s whole body trembles as he tried to suck air into his lungs.
“Jay, you’re not a prick. Not really. I’m only asking you to act like one,” he whispered into Jamie’s soft hair.
“No,” Jamie sniffled. “You… You…um… said… that… me core… at me core… I’m a … prick.”
Roy sighed. He really needed to start thinking before he said things to Jamie. The younger man always took everything he said to heart. “Yes, I fucking said that. But that was before I saw the real Jamie Tartt. And that fucking matters because I saw I was wrong. You at your core are someone who’s kind, gentle, funny, generous, and so fucking smart. You are not a prick. The prick is just fucking defense you use to protect yourself,” he told his beautiful boyfriend.
“You… you mean… mean i’?” Jamie stuttered.
“Of fucking course. I should have never said that you’re just a prick. It was wrong. I’m sorry,” Roy muttered into Jamie’s hair.
Jamie let out a little whimper and buried his face deeper into Roy’s neck, soaking Roy’s shirt with his tears and snot.
“Shh,” Roy said gently, swaying slowly on the spot. He rubbed Jamie’s back. “It’s okay. I’m here. You’re okay. I’m not disappointed with you. I won’t be disappointed if you aren’t a prick in the game. It’s okay Jamie.”
Eventually, Jamie calmed down. He pulled and wiped his eyes and nose. “Sorry,” he breathed.
“It’s okay Jamie,” Roy said, watching Jamie closely.
Jamie looked at Roy’s shirt. “Sorry about your shir’,” he apologized.
Roy shrugged. “It can be cleaned.”
Jamie nodded, looked away and took in a shaky breath.
Roy reached out and put his hand on Jamie’s shoulder. “Are we good?” he checked in.
Jamie nodded then both of them turned and faced the door as the door was opened. Will walked with some towels.
Roy sighed and said, “You missed another good one, Will.”
Jamie let out a shocked, shaky laugh.
Will nodded, then turned around, left the room, and shut the door.
Roy looked at Jamie and gave Jamie a long gentle kiss on his lips. “I love you,” he told Jamie when he pulled.
“I know. And I love you,” Jamie responded and gave Roy a smile, letting that he was fine now. Roy was glad. He really hated it when Jamie was in pain. Crazy enough a couple years ago if you had told him he would feel this way about Jamie, he would have thought that you’re crazy but here he was.