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The only reason Roy is letting it slide is that it’s tradition, and Keeley had practically begged him to help her make the club festive. Usually it was left to her and Jamie, but apparently they needed a third person this year. Roy had only conceded on the basis that the pair of them needed supervision when anything glittery had the potential to be involved. The carpets of his car still bore the aftermath of Keeleys Valentine’s Day outfit, and truthfully, there is only so much batting of fake eyelashes and dramatic pouting that he can take before he is dragging out the tinsel and tracing every surface of the fucking club with a line of it.
It takes him five trips just to bring all of her decorations to and from Richmond in their entirety—and she’d already made 2 trips of her own on the same errand. Tartt, the shit, had conveniently arrived at the club only after everything had been delivered, but he supposed he made up for that with his enthusiasm in hanging baubles off every available hook in the place. He couldn’t remember ever seeing the club look so festive, and at some point Higgins has been roped into helping tie giant ribbons on every door of the entire club—even the stall doors in the toilets, which Roy finds nauseatingly attentive to detail, and exactly the type of thing Keeley would think up for him to do. For his part, Roy thinks his fingertips might be raw from peeling and sticking so much tape.
He thinks perhaps worst of all was that the team was so aggressively invested in the decorations that it only seemed to double each time he entered a room again. Jamie had taken to hanging mistletoe up on almost every doorway—thank god he hadn’t taken a page out of Keeley book, and refrained from putting any in the toilets, but it was a close thing, he was sure—with Richards help, and Ted had taken the opportunity to remind them all that consent mattered, even when it came to mistletoe, and had explained that if you wanted to redeem a mistletoe kiss, both parties had to indicate consent, which got a room full of nods and a low whistle of approval from somewhere in the back of the room. Roy would have thought that was a given, but he supposed it was nice that the gaffer was taking it into mind.
If Roy was honest with himself, which he sometimes hated being, he didn’t find it all as annoying as he had in years past. Maybe it was the camaraderie that made it all feel different, but he found himself less likely to swear when some decoration or other crowded the hall space—Even though Colin did seem to take it a bit far by simply carrying glitter in his pockets and sprinkling it wherever he pleased. If it were anyone else, Roy might have had an aneurism, but the look of delight on Colins face made it worth the countless hoover passes he knew lied in wait for their future.
Jamie seems to be more invested this year as well, because of course he is, and keeps dragging them all out to different activities. Roy avoids the ice skating rink due to the fear he will injure his knee further, and Jamie calls him a grandfather again, so Roy just reminds him its fucking November, and not even at the halfway point at that. He does enjoy the photos Keeley sends of the day, though, where Dani is helping both Jamie and Phoebe to stay upright on their skates. Jamie had clung to Danis shoulder or elbow in each photo, which was a bit odd, as Roy had thought Jamie knew how to ice skate just fine—he’d seen an instagram video of it in the past, he was almost positive, but perhaps Ted was right and social media was a still worse indicator of reality than he’d believed. Beard only sends them all a cryptic text to warn them what will happen if anyone breaks an ankle.
He does go to the holiday drink tasting that Mae hosts, and lets himself get a bit more tipsy than perhaps was appropriate, but it was hard to say no when Keeley was handing him wildly titled drinks and giggling like that at each face he made. Jamie, for his part, played a good friend and helped Roy and Keeley to get everyone situated in cabs at the end of the night. Only Jan Maas had been allowed to drive, entirely sober and practically dragging Isaac and Colin out the door of the pub. He supposed it shouldn’t have been as shocking as it was that Jan had perfect control of Colins Lamborghini. Jamie had been quietly impressed from the far corner of the pub, watching the trio peel off from the window as he retrieved a water for Dani, who had spent the entire night grinning broadly and telling everyone how much he loved them—Jamie had gone bright red at hearing the declaration, and retreated to talk to Bubmbercatch until his coloring returned. Keeley had just smiled warmly at them and smacked Roys arm when he went to comment on it.
It had been a good month, in all, that night included, and somehow someone had made out with several of the decorative glasses used for the event and placed them haphazardly around the club as added décor. Roys money was on Richard, but Keeley had confided that it was actually Rebecca when he made her breakfast one morning. Apparently she didn’t remember stealing the mugs, but was too embarrassed to return them to Mae and was hoping by dispersing them through the club they would somehow find their way back with the players. Somehow, Roy doubted it, as a game of ‘hide the glass’ had started up as a result, and a little shot glass emblazoned with ‘Santa Claus Nipple’ was taking turns being snuck into each other’s kit bags. It’s not his least favorite holiday hijinks, is all he’s saying, though he still doesn’t know who hid it in the glovebox of his car. Impressive, really. He thinks it was Sam, purely because he can’t hide the mischievous smirk that forms whenever Roy looks his way, but he’s letting him think he’s gotten away with it.
It’s at the point that He is so caught in the revolving display of holiday decorations that he almost doesn’t notice the way that despite Jamie so thoroughly involving himself in the decorating, and each and every festivity, he steadfastly avoids the mistletoe altogether, despite being the most vocal supporter (after Richard, of course) of having it up. Whenever he is caught beneath it, his face will go bright red, and his eyes will scan the room before he exchanges a tight hug or trades a playful kiss on the cheek with one of their team members. Higgins is particularly delighted when Jamie hugs him, and briefly lifts him off the ground in his enthusiasm. That, at least, makes Jamie laugh. Mostly, the team has been using the mistletoe in an attempt to bombard Will the kitman with kisses on the head or cheek, or just hugging him and ruffling of his hair, making it a game of sorts to see who can Kiss the Kitman the most times by the end of the season. Will has moved past being phased by it, for his part, and is keeping track on the erase board each time a player asks to kiss his head.
Isaac is winning, competitive soul that he is. Roy has grudgingly allowed his cheek to be kissed a handful of times, but glares the entire time anyone dares to do it, always growling afterward so nobody thinks he appreciates it. Really, he is surprised he doesn’t mind that much, but perhaps that’s just because Keeley rather enjoys using the mistletoe to sneak away and kiss him senseless. The pair of them have managed to find a few of Jamie’s more creative hiding places for the plant, too, which Roy is reluctantly starting to appreciate. They’re going to be finding mistletoe till June, at this rate.
Everyone seems to be having fun with it but Jamie, really, who just turns away and pretends not to know what he’s talking about when Roy asks, which is why he eventually brings it up to Keeley as the holiday gets closer. They’re lying in bed, too early in the evening to sleep, but too dreary to be out of bed. She’s watching Bridgestone on her phone, headphones in and head against his shoulder, and he’s flipping through The Song of Achilles absently. He’s not sure why he brings it up, but it’s been on his mind and he can’t focus on his novel when the rain is pounding the windows this hard.
Keeley brightens immediately, tugging out her earphones and tossing her phone aside so that it bounces on the mattress and out of sight. With how fast she latches to the topic, he can tell she’s noticed it too, and has been waiting for him to bring it up. He’s surprised she hadn’t taken the initiative herself, with how close she is to Jamie, and how fully aware she is of how much he typically jumps on opportunities for public displays of affection, no matter the giver. Fucking narcissist.
Keeley bubbles out with wide eyes, “You’ve noticed it too, then? I’m so glad you said something, I didn’t want to mention it if nobody else knew, but it’s been killing me!”
“He is being weird, then.” Roy acknowledges, glad to know he hadn’t imagines Jamies hesitancy, “He say anything to you about it?”
She chews her lip, and Roy takes a moment to think how pretty she looks in the grey light coming in from the window before she admits softly, “Well, no, but you know how he is with emotional shit—he’ll feel it, but he’s not going to talk about it unless you bully him into it, and I’m not sure it’s my place.” She’s contemplative for a moment before adding, “Honestly, I think he’s overthinking all of it; If he just told Dani how he feels, he’d see he’s scared for nothing.”
That thought is a wrench in the mechanics of his brain, and even though he can see it with a sudden sharp clarity, his mouth hasn’t caught up to his brain and he blurts with a scoff, “Tartt’s got feelings for Dani? Since the fuck when?”
He’s pretty sure he knows the answer, but it’s such a shock to his system he can’t help asking for clarification anyways. He can vaguely recall, actually, a moment in the hall where Jamie had frozen before letting Dani go through the door first to avoid the mistletoe. It’s one of dozens of small events that are burning through the forefront of his mind with intensity. Jamie had steadfastly remained several feet away until the man had passed safely beyond the shadow of the mistletoe in the doorframe before he ventured into the boot room. He hadn’t been embarrasssed to let his teammates kiss his forehead of his cheek, or even his sweaty hair—he’d wanted to see Dani’s reaction to it, looking for clues to if he felt the same way.
Fuck. Fuck. Jamie likes Dani. How did he not see it—with how enthusiastic Jamie was about decorating, and wanting things bigger and better than any year previous—how he’d waited for Dani to arrive and see the efforts they’d put into the whole setup. He’d thought Jamie was just excited about the holidays, but, no, he’d been excited to watch Dani experience it. Roy hates that it makes his stomach flutter with joy.
Keeley doesn’t look remotely joyful, though. Her face is completely ashen. She is near tears when she bursts out, “Roy! Oh, I shouldn’t have said anything, I thought you knew! He’s going to be so upset, Roy, you can’t say anything to him, he’s clearly nervous enough as it is! Promise me you won’t say anything, he’ll think you’re taking the piss—even I haven’t brought it up to him. You can’t mention it!”
Her face is turning a dark, blotchy shade of red that would be cute in any other circumstance, but in this scenario is somewhat frightening. He wants to assure her that he would have come to that conclusion eventually, but, truthfully, he isn’t sure he’d have ever considered it without her accidental admission, so he promises her hurriedly that he won’t mention anything to Tartt, not even if he is being particularly twat-ish. She gives a wet little giggle in response, sniffling, and says, “I mean it, not even if he’s being really foul.”
Roy is somewhat hurt she thinks he’d do something like that, and assures her he won’t—would never. She says that she knows that—of course she knows that—but Jamie has a way of pushing peoples buttons and she’s scared it will come out on accident. She doesn’t want to hurt him, and Roy assures her that that’s good, because he doesn’t, either. She stops crying after he kisses her wet nose, and when she settles he gives her a cuddle, playing with her hair and mumbling quiet assurances until she falls asleep against him, her breath warm on his neck.
He can’t quiet his thinking, though, about what could possibly keeping Tartt and Rojas apart. Jamie is the opposite of the type to keep quiet about his feelings, even the more unpopular ones he has. In fact, he tends to overshare, so it’s a wonder the entire club doesn’t know he’s smitten over Dani by now. He’s not going to be able to unsee it, now, and suddenly Keeleys worry becomes a bit more clear to him. Fuck, now that he knows he cant make himself un-know, and it’s a puzzle of a situation he can tell will be a difficult one to work around. He’s unwittingly dropped himself into a minefield, and ever since his conversation with Keeley he is second guessing every word that comes out of his mouth on the half chance something he says might accidentally out Jamies feelings. And, fuck, if Jamie would stop following Rojas around with his eyes it would be really fucking great, because he’s sure Jamie will notice that Roy has noticed, and he isn’t ready for that conversation.
He manages to avoid the topic up until a week and five days before Christmas, and then it happens, as was inevitable: Roy gets too comfortable with the secret and fucks it all up.
It’s not technically his fault. It just that Dani has noticed Jamies odd behavior, and for reasons unknown had sought to ask Roy for advice, of all the people, and it catches him so off guard he doesn’t get the chance to think of a plausible excuse. He does try to lie, initially, but he’s not good at this type of thing and Dani is so open and trusting and so fucking clueless and—god, Roy wishes he was still fucking clueless too, because now he just wants Dani to stop looking so hurt by the wavering attention of stupid Jamie Tartt.
It’s for this reason alone that his resolve breaks, and he abandons the complicated lie he had been telling to finally blurt out, “Just fucking kiss him! Why do you think he set up so many mistletoe? Spreading through the club like a fucking venereal disease. Fuck, Rojas, he’s too chicken shit to initiate it with you himself, but he’s not angry at you, he’s fucking mooning over you.”
It comes out gruff and angry, maybe because it is, but Dani is shocked into blessed silence, which is all well and good until Roy realizes that his face has turned bone white. He can’t read his expression and fuck, now that he’s exposed Jamies secret so thoroughly to Dani, he’s realizing that he didn’t think to wonder whether the feeling went both ways. Judging by the coloration on Dani’s face, it doesn’t.
Keeley is going to fucking kill him. They’ll never find his body, which is probably good because he is sure Jamie would dig it back up just to piss on it if he finds out what Roy has just done. Fuck. And now he can’t say anything else because he doesn’t trust his stupid mouth, and Dani isn’t speaking but still looks startlingly pale. Maybe if Dani goes into shock this will all be okay. He can convince him he dreamed it. But then Dani is blinking back to the present and before Roy can so much as open his mouth Dani has muttered something in Spanish and hightailed it out of the boot room he’d cornered Roy in only minutes previous. He’s going to have an aneurysm.
For two days, nothing happens. Everything is strained, but Roy seems to be the only one who recognizes it. Dani just silently watches Jamie, like he’s curious about him, and he can tell he has been blessedly silent about Roy’s revelation, but he is still dreading the culmination of all the facts coming to light. If Dani breaks Jamie’s heart because of this, Roy is going to have a really hard time justifying beating him up. But then, they pair of them stay on the pitch after a practice, interactions as easy as always when they’re on the field, hitting the crossbar in quiet competition, so different from how they’ve been lately when they’re in the locker room.
Roy stays as well, waving on Ted and Beard when they hesitate to wait for him. Makes an excuse about wanting to clean up His work space. They don’t mention it’s spotless nature as they leave him alone. He knows that he could leave, and perhaps should, but something in him wants to make sure nothing bad happens between Tartt and Dani. He has an anxious, uncomfortable feeling in his chest about this whole business, and has since Keeley accidentally spelled it all out to him.
He’s been waiting at his desk for nearly an hour by the time he decides to pack it in. He almost thinks he’s missed them, and they’ve headed to the car park straight off the pitch, but as he turns his light out, he freezes at the sight of two figures frozen at the other end of the hall. There’s a sprig of mistletoe hanging above their sweaty heads.
Dani’s figure is gently crowding Jamie’s against the door jamb, asking him softly, as only Dani can, “Can I kiss you, Jamie Tartt?”
“Like, o-on the cheek, or—“ he is trying to sound confident, and failing admirably. His eyes are locked on Dani’s, trying to read any hint of rejection.
Dani just chuckles warmly, and offers, “If it is as you prefer, yes. Would you like me to kiss your cheek?”
Being asked about his own desires clearly embarrasses him, his face bright red in the harsh hall lighting, and Roy knows he shouldn’t be watching this—it’s personal and private, and Jamie would be mortified, but he can’t look away.
“I—‘s a good start.” Is all Jamie manages, and Dani slowly moves to kiss Jamie’s glowing cheek.
It’s startlingly gentle and chaste, and Jamie is dark with embarrassment when Dani pulls away to offer kindly, “Would you like to return the gesture?”
“Can I?” Jamie asks, confidence leaking back in now that Dani has shifted the ball back into his court. When Dani nods once, small smile forming in encouragement, Jamie’s eyes drop to Dani’s mouth, “On the cheek, or—“
“Wherever you would like, Jamie Tartt.” Dani says, easy as that. And Jamie leans forward off the wall, stopping just shy of their lips meeting, so Dani takes the last breath of space between them to close the gap. It’s warm and sweet, and Roy is flooded with relief that it went well, watching them slowly pull apart, eyes half-lidded. Jamie is uncharacteristically shy and clears his throat awkwardly, trying to maintain his bravado as he says, “That was—well—“
“It was good, yes?”
Jamie just nods, thoroughly romanced by Dani’s tenderness, and his fingers come up automatically to trace the line on his lip where Dani had kissed him. Roy forgot that a peck so small could be so fucking romantic. And then it all goes to hell.
Dani beams, and announces with delight, “Coach Roy was right that you feel for me, then, no?”
It isn’t meant to be malicious, but Roy can see the moment the words click in Jamie’s brain, and he clearly feels devastated by the blow. Roy can read his thoughts through his face, even with how far down the hall Jamie is: he thinks Roy has set this up, that the kiss had been somehow disingenuous to expose his feelings. As if Dani was capable of something like that. In moments of panic, Roy knows, anything can seem possible.
“Roy told you to kiss me? You didn’t…he said I like you?” Jamie asks, and his face is dead pale. His voice is hollow and gutted, coming out high like it’s being punched out of him, and Dani is still smiling, oblivious to Jamie’s inner turmoil, too caught up in his own delight at what was almost a perfectly lovely first kiss.
“He did, sí.” Dani nods enthusiastically, beaming at Jamie, who’s got fucking tears in his eyes and whose cheeks are turning mottled and red in an awful mix of pain and humiliation. Dani finally realizes something is wrong, and he reaches for Jamie, expression dropping into concern, “Jamie, what is—“
“Don’t.” Jamie tells him sharply, his breath hard and fast, and Dani obediently takes a step away from him, though looks pained to follow through with the request. Jamie’s face closes off, and immediately he turns and walks away. There isn’t another word, he’s just gone, the door snapping closed behind him, and Roy feels like a bomb has erupted in his gut. Dani is equally confused and pained, standing alone in the hallway, his back to Roy as he stares at the closed door, his hand frozen in reaching for Jamie.
Jamie calls in sick for practice the next day. Dani doesn’t, though he watches the door to the kit room with anxious eyes and doesn’t smile even once. Ted is obviously bothered by Jamie’s lack of arrival, and confides as much to the Diamond Dogs, admitting with a voice lowered with worry that Jamie hadn’t sounded like himself—that he was worried something was wrong and thinks one of them ought to check on him.
Roy wishes Ted didn’t look so surprised when he volunteers immediately to drive to His flat. Clearly Ted had planned to do it himself, but relents immediately at the stony look on his face. He’s good at knowing when to push, and when to relent. Sometimes Roy forgets how lucky he is that Ted has learned to read him so well that he doesn’t even ask why Roy has jumped on the opportunity.
When he gets to Tartt’s flat and knocks on the door he expects he’ll be ignored. But, it swings open and Jamie says, deflated, “I’m not in the mood, Keeley, I told you—“
He stops when he comes face to face with Roy, and they’re both frozen on opposite side of the threshold. Roy feels his heart crumble just that bit further, and he blurts thoughtlessly, horror in His voice, “You’ve been crying.”
Jamie’s hand comes up immediately to scrub any visible tear streaks off his face, though it doesn’t work, and he says with a pained tone, both broken and angry “If you’re just here to—“
“I’m not.” Roy interrupts, and asks seriously, trying to be sensitive and remembering the excitement with which Jamie had started this whole decorating extravaganza, “Can I explain?”
Jamie considers him, tip of his nose red and eyes bubbling with fresh tears, but they don’t fall past his waterline and he gives a single sharp nod, tilting his face away so that he’s looking at his mismatched socks, and Roy can’t see his expression. He doesn’t know if he could continue if he had to watch Jamie cry over his stupid mistake, and he was sure if he hugged him Jamie wouldn’t hesitate to start swinging or shouting at him. Actually, that might make Roy feel a little better about this whole thing, if Jamie would just show a burst of righteous anger and throw a punch. He could take an angry, spitting Jamie Tartt. This subdued, tearful version is so much harder to bear.
It’s with that thought that he comes clean. He knows what Jamie thinks, and he confronts it head on; reminds him that they’re friends now, or trying to be, and that he wouldn’t use Dani to manipulate Jamies feelings. That Dani wouldn’t so much as speak to him again if he tried.
Jamie looks puzzled by the end, and though he isn’t presenting as hurt as he was, he still looks horrifically small, and Roy feels his chest crack painfully when he asks him, as if he isn’t sure he’s allowed, “You didn’t put him up to it, then, that kiss?”
“Fuck, no, Tartt, have you been listening at all?” Roy says, trying to convey how earnest he is being. “I didn’t even mean to tell him how you felt for him, it just came out.”
And then, because it needs to be said, “Jamie, that kiss—Rojas meant that. Surprised your teeth didn’t rot out of your skull, how sweet it was. Looked fucking gutted when you got upset—thinks he did something wrong, he spent most of the morning just waiting like a puppy in the kit room, thinking he hurt you.”
Jamie takes that all in and his face softens as he hears the truth. But he doesn’t speak yet.
“I swear on Keeleys fake lashes, he’s not putting you on by kissing you. I’m the one that hurt you with my big fucking mouth when I should have let you go to him on your own terms. I’m sorry, Tartt. Don’t hold my mistake against Dani. For some reason, he actually fucking likes you—despite your shit personality.”
For a moment he thinks maybe he should scale back the insults, considering he’s meant to be apologizing, but he isn’t really sure how to make Jamie believe him if he isn’t giving him shit through it. Luckily, Jamie appears to sag in front of him in relief, a slow smile forming across his face.
His eyes are sparkling, but not in that heartbroken way from before. He looks delighted, and in a flash of movement he has thrown himself into Roy in a tight hug, then immediately pulled back and slugged him—hard—in the arm, with a glare barely dimmed by the brightness in his eyes, and warns him darkly, “Don’t fucking meddle with my love life again”
Which…fair. He agrees that he won’t, and he thinks he means it, but immediately breaks that promise when gets into his car and he sees that Ted has texted him to ask if Dani is safe to stop by Jamie’s place—apparently, he told Ted about making Jamie cry over a kiss, and wants to make sure he’s okay. Roy gives him the all clear, saying that it was a misunderstanding, and waits to make sure everything goes smoothly.
He knows he shouldn’t, he did just promise not to get involved between the pair of them, but he can’t help moving his car onto the street and sinking down in the drivers seat to see if he can find out what happens between the pair of them.
As he expects, it’s sickeningly sweet, watching them awkwardly stand in the doorway to Jamie’s flat, quietly talking while Dani absently plays with Jamie’s long fingers. The conversation is long, and Roy can hear none of it with his windows rolled up, but he can tell it’s positive and that they are working out what happened, Jamie explaining his perspective with pink cheeks. Dani just listens and appears to assure him before finally moving his large hands up to cup Jamie’s face and presumably asking to kiss him, if Jamie’s nod and Dani’s subsequent peck to his forehead is any indication.
He leaves a slow trail from that kiss down to the space between his eyebrows, down the bridge of his nose, and finally to Jamie’s mouth. Roy is relieved that Jamie finally pulls Dani inside and the door closes off His view of the fledgling couple. He’s happy for them, truly, but can’t help feeling a new wave of apprehension about what that means for the rest of the week and all the mistletoe hidden throughout the club.
The next time he thinks somebody has got a crush, he’s definitely going to wait until there aren’t any plants nearby that inspire compulsory affection to the level he knows Tartt and Rojas are going to take advantage of. Now he’s just got to convince Keeley to help him pull it all down before they’ve got to be back at the club again.