Archive of Our Own

Jamie shows up on Roy's doorstep with flowers—orchids, to be exact.

"Oi, get those out of the sun. Fuck, what arsehole potted this? You're gonna have to let the blooms fade and repot it." Roy takes it away and carries it to the window in his kitchen, knowing that's the best spot for indirect sunlight.

"Er, hi, Roy. Nice to see you, too," Jamie says heavily, letting himself in.

Roy rolls his eyes and doesn't turn around. "I know a plant emergency when I see one. That's why you brought 'em to me, yeah?"

There's a longer pause than Roy expects, but when he turns, Jamie is nodding solemnly. "Yeah, mint. Knew you'd fix 'em right up."

"I’m sure I can get them fixed up in time," Roy says. Jamie just stares at him blankly. "They're for your mum, right? Aren't you going to see her in a few weeks before your shoot in Brazil?" Roy knows Jamie's going solo now, after their fuck-up with Keeley, and the plan was for him to visit Georgie before he left, but now Roy feels like he's missing something.

"Yeah, 'course. Thanks, man. So, d'you wanna watch a movie or something?"

Roy eyes him, taking in his sleek button down and fancy trousers with a special crease ironed into them. "You aren’t on your way somewhere?"

"Nah, I’m all right. Could go get dinner though. Sam won’t let us through the door at Ola’s in anything less than 'business casual' no more."

Roy arches a brow. Sam's never said a word to him about a dress code, but he has made it clear that none of the team should expect to show up and be able to get a table without a reservation. "Is Ola's expecting us?"

Jamie shrugs. "Been craving their beef suya, haven't I?"

Roy studies him for a second, then nods. "I'll just get changed," he says. He's on the second step when he freezes and turns back toward Jamie. "This isn't some fucking surprise party or some shit, is it?"

Jamie looks genuinely flummoxed. "What would we be celebrating?"

Roy stares him down for a while, but finally grunts in satisfaction that Jamie's telling the truth. Good. It doesn't explain why Jamie's acting so weird, but as long as it's a normal meal at Ola's, there's nothing for Roy to worry about.

He isn't put at ease on the drive over, though, when Jamie bounces his leg the whole time while fixating on his phone. "If you're gonna be on your fucking phone the whole time, I'm not eating with you."

"Oi, relax, grandad. I'm just texting with Sam, telling him we're on our way."

"How fucking long does it take to say 'on our way'?"

"Some friends actually follow up a text with a question, like asking how my day is or summat. It don't have to be straight to the point all the time, Mr. 'Come over. I'm making salmon.'"

"What the fuck else am I meant to say? Come over, and also have you taken a dump in the thirty minutes since we last saw each other? You'd probably just tell me anyway when you got to my place."

That, at least, makes Jamie laugh, dispelling some of the weirdness that's been lingering in the air since Jamie showed up tonight.

The vibe is weird at Ola's as well, when Sam greets them at the door and brings them to one of the quieter tables in the back.

"Sorry, this is all we've got," Sam says, laying down menus and a wine list. Roy's pretty sure that the back room tables are the hardest to get, but he doesn't argue.

Jamie eyes the wine list as soon as Sam walks away. Roy heaves a fake sigh and hands it over. "We can split one bottle since it's the off season, but it's gonna be a white, because I'm having fish."

Once they settle into dinner, it starts to feel like a return to normal, and Roy breathes much easier. He teases Jamie for his wine choice, even though it's the same one he would've made, and Jamie takes it in stride, stealing food from his plate and joking about monitoring his calorie intake for a change.

Once they get back to Roy's, Jamie makes noise like he's planning to head home.

"I thought you wanted to watch a movie," Roy says, bemused.

"Oh, yeah," Jamie says, immediately abandoning his trek toward his car. "Sure, yeah, if you want."

"You are the weirdest creature I have ever met," Roy grumbles, fishing out his keys.

They bicker over the movie choice—Jamie wants The Cabin in the Woods, and when Roy says he's not in the mood for horror, Jamie doubles down that "it's funny, Roy, seriously." Roy wants to watch The Matrix, but Jamie complains that it's too serious. So they split the difference and put on Stardust, but only after Roy talks about the book for fifteen minutes. Once the movie starts, he wonders why Jamie didn't tell him to stuff it two minutes in, but he feels good about maybe convincing Jamie to read some Neil Gaiman.

An hour in, Jamie's commentary falls off, and Roy looks over to find him slumped sideways on the couch cushion, his mouth hanging slightly open in sleep. He laughs quietly to himself and goes to grab clothes that Jamie can sleep in before he comes back to wake him up.

"Roy," Jamie says in wonder when Roy jostles him awake. His hand latches onto Roy's shoulder unexpectedly.

"You fell asleep. Didn't even see the good part," Roy murmurs, suddenly hyper-aware of their proximity.

"Oh," Jamie says, blinking at him and then at the paused screen in front of him. He lets go of Roy's shoulder and hunches in on himself. "Right, sorry."

"Here, you can wear these. You know where the guest room is."

It's not the first time Jamie has stayed over, but it is the first time it's happened outside of their rigorous training schedule. Roy doesn't think too hard on that, just heads upstairs to get ready for bed himself.

By the time Roy finishes brushing his teeth, Jamie is already passed out again on top of the duvet in the guest room with his mouth hanging open. Roy laughs to himself, figuring he can wait until tomorrow to ask him about breakfast, then grabs a blanket from the closet to toss over him. Jamie makes a pleased noise in his sleep and curls into himself.

Fuck, Roy thinks to himself, he looks like so much less of a prick in his sleep.

Roy shakes his head and leaves him be.

* * *

When Roy wakes up, he's disoriented and hard in his sleep shorts. He breathes carefully as he stares at the ceiling, flashes of his dream coming back to him in bursts. Jamie had shown up at his door same as last night, but he'd had one of the orchids pinned to his lapel, and he pinned the other to Roy's before—fuck, sliding into Roy's space easy as anything and kissing him. One kiss had devolved into a heavy makeout session—somewhere in there they'd lost their suits and started rutting against each other on Roy's couch.

Roy swallows thickly as he remembers the heat of Jamie's skin against his in the dream. He tries to push it away—there was some point in the dream when they'd been at Ola's, maybe that was safe. But focusing on that isn't much better—unlike their normal meal full of ribbing each other and enjoying Sam's food, Roy had been too focused on Jamie to notice anything else. The table was smaller than real life, and their legs stayed tangled underneath the whole time while they murmured filthy things to each other about what they'd do when they got home.

Fuck, that's the worst part—the best part—the part that still thrums in his skin even now that he's awake. They'd been back at Roy's in a flash, and Jamie fell to his knees and started sucking Roy off without preamble. He aches, now, to wrap a hand around himself, to remember that wet heat that had seemed so overwhelming in the dream, the sweep of Jamie's lashes as he gazed up at Roy with his lips wrapped around his cock.

He has to stare at his ceiling for half an hour with his hands balled into tight fists before he manages to dismiss the feeling and his hard-on.

Jamie is still asleep when Roy passes by the guest room, which Roy is grateful for. He needs coffee before he can deal with the combination of real-life Jamie and whatever the fuck his brain decided to do to him last night.

When he gets to the kitchen, the sunlight shines through the window just right to slant across the orchid Jamie had shown up with. Roy swallows, averting his gaze as he gets the coffee started, but inevitably his mind drifts back to the orchids in the dream, so obviously intended as a token of affection.

As he waits for his coffee, he pads over to the flowerpot, running a finger gently against the soft petals. Jamie hadn't said a word when he'd shown up with the flowers, had he? He'd been acting so strange. Quiet. And he'd been all dressed up.

"Fuuuuck," Roy says quietly, seeing the flowers—and the whole evening—in a whole new light. Jamie had everything arranged at Ola's. Their placement in the back room made more sense if it was meant to be a date. Fuck, the way Roy is with him, without even realizing it—how long have they been flirting?

Jamie's voice cuts into his thoughts, nearly making him jump. "You got up and you didn't wake me? Usually you've got me doing burpees by now if I stay over."

"It's the off season," Roy says defensively. "We can keep the burpees to once a week if you're good."

Jamie laughs with a pleased duck of his head, and Roy feels heat rush to his cheeks. He looks so fit in Roy's old clothes, and when he walks over to pull the sugar down from the cabinet, Roy can see how his old shorts are fighting to keep the swell of his arse contained. They hadn't fucked in the dream, he doesn't think, but it certainly seemed like something that could happen at any moment. If he hadn't woken up when he did, that's probably what would've happened next.

"Jamie," he makes himself say, trying to figure out what he wants to ask. Jamie freezes, setting the sugar down on the counter without turning around. "These orchids. Are they really for your mum?"

Jamie turns around slowly, tugging on his bottom lip with his teeth. "Er, they seem like something she'd like."

"That doesn't answer the fucking question."

Jamie rakes a hand through his hair, then keeps his gaze trained to the floor. "Yeah. I'll give 'em to her when I visit before Brazil, like you said."

"Jamie," Roy says again, stepping closer, "don't fucking lie to me."

Jamie's eyes widen as they snap up to meet Roy's, once Roy is close enough to feel the heat of his body. "I… I didn't—"

Roy arches a brow. Jamie sighs.

"I had this whole fucking speech planned. It was dumb. I dunno why I thought I could pull it off."

"A speech?" Roy repeats, bemused. "About the orchids?"

"About us, you daft bastard," Jamie says, giving him a light shove that has no effect at all, except to make Roy's heartbeat speed up.

Jamie's gaze flits back down to Roy's chest, his lip slipping under his teeth again. Roy feels like he's mapping Jamie's every movement. Unable to resist the temptation any longer, he reaches out to put his hands on either side of Jamie's waist. "Go on, then," he says softly. "What was the speech?"

"Roy," Jamie says pleadingly, his eyes searching Roy's. All Roy can think about is the sweep of his lashes, how they're even more beautiful in real life than they'd been in the dream. How the fuck had he never realised all of this before?

"I'm sorry I ruined our date," Roy manages, letting himself cross that line. Jamie hasn't pulled away from him yet, so it feels like a calculated risk.

He watches the bob of Jamie's throat as he swallows. "You didn't ruin nothing."

"You had a whole thing planned with Sam, didn't you?"

"Not really. Just—champagne. If you said yes. And a big comfort meal for myself if you said no."

"But you didn't ask."

"We still got to go. And we still had wine together. It was still… nice."

"Fuck nice," Roy says, frustrated. Jamie's eyes bounce between his, worry shining through. "I've been a fucking idiot. You deserve a fucking medal for putting up with me. And better than a bottle of mid-range white wine for our first fucking date."

Jamie's worry melts away as a much more recognizable self-satisfied smile settles on his face. "Yeah? Gonna make it up to me?" He shifts forward slightly, leaving only a breath of distance between them, his hands finding Roy's hips.

“Shut it,” Roy grunts and hauls him into a kiss. Jamie makes a brief noise of surprise before sinking into it, clutching Roy closer as their lips slide together sensuously.

Satisfied that Jamie's not going to pull away, Roy wraps an arm around his back and fits his other hand to the back of Jamie's neck, guiding him into the kiss as he urges Jamie's lips apart with his tongue.

Jamie's hands slide to his back, burning like a brand through the thin material of Roy's t-shirt as Jamie responds hungrily to the kiss, giving as good as he's taking, but letting Roy set the pace. It's everything Roy didn't know he wanted, and so fucking perfect.

"I still haven't heard the speech," Roy grumbles as Jamie presses lips and teeth to his jaw, his neck, his shoulder.

Jamie's laugh huffs over his skin. "And you never will, now. I mean it, it was dumb. I like this better. You makin' it up to me."

"Why didn't you just ask anyway? I know I fucked up the flowers, but it's not like I would've shut you down."

Jamie pulls back enough to meet Roy's gaze. "No? Y'sure? You thought the only reason I'd bring you flowers is to fix 'em up for my mum. And they were your favorite flowers. Excuse the fuck out of me for figuring you didn't see me like that."

Roy swallows, a guilty feeling swirling in his gut. "Sometimes I need a nudge, is all."

"What made you realise, anyway?"

Roy suddenly feels hyper-aware of the beating of his own heart, and just how closely they're pressed together. "Just put it together."

Jamie's lips flatten into an expression of disbelief.

"Fine, I fucking had a dream about you, alright? Still means I put it together, I just did it in my sleep."

Jamie smirks. "A dream, eh?" His hands drift a bit lower on Roy's back. "A sexy dream?"

"No," Roy says, too fast.

Jamie's lips part on a delighted grin. His teeth shouldn't be this endearing. "That's fucking hot. What were we doin'?"

"Nothing. Reading the fucking paper."

"Bet you had me on my knees," Jamie says, and they're pressed so close together that there's no way he misses the way Roy's cock twitches. "Oh, fuck. Really?"

"Shut the fuck up."

Jamie slides to the floor, his hands dragging over Roy's arse and down his legs as he goes. He grins up at Roy unabashedly. "You can shut me up, if you want."

"Fuck, Jamie," Roy grits out, touching his fingers to Jamie's hair. "Are you sure?"

"This was one of the ways I hoped last night would end," Jamie says, reaching up to trace his fingers along the waistband of Roy's sleep shorts. "Will you let me?"

Roy doesn't trust his voice, so he just nods.

Jamie doesn't waste time freeing Roy’s cock with swift, sure movements and getting his tongue on it immediately. Roy groans and lets his fingers sink more firmly into Jamie's hair, a thrill shooting through him when Jamie finally gets his mouth on him properly.

He's fucking gorgeous kneeling there—even better than Roy had imagined. His lips are already swollen from their kisses, and feel so fucking plush sliding over the head of his cock. The way Jamie works his tongue is unreal, full-on engulfing his cock in white-hot pleasure as he works up a rhythm.

"Fuck, Jamie. I hate to fucking say it, but I need you to stop."

"Why?" Jamie says, flicking an annoyed look up at him before sliding his lips over the head of Roy's cock one more time.

"I fucking mean it," Roy says, yanking at Jamie's hair to pull him off. "If your fucking tongue gets on me one more time this'll all be over."

Jamie's eyes flicker as he finally backs off. "What d'you mean, over?"

"I mean some of us aren't in our fucking twenties, and I want you in my bed before I'm too fucked out to do anything about it."

"Ah, fuck," Jamie says, rubbing his hand between his legs.

"Oi, none of that either. Don't fucking touch your cock again unless I say. Get your arse upstairs so I can get my hands on you."

Jamie obeys readily, dashing up the stairs and tossing his clothes off as he goes. Roy takes his time, palming his dick and appreciating the show as he follows.

Jamie hops onto Roy's bed immediately, watching rapt as Roy works his shirt over his head. Roy likes the look of Jamie's eyes on him, so he doesn't join him on the bed immediately. He just lets his eyes rake over Jamie's naked body, on display just for him, and gives himself a few strokes before he takes off his trackies and pants.

When he can't hold himself back anymore, he climbs over Jamie, leaving lingering kisses along his body until he gets to his mouth, where he takes his time finding all the ways he can make Jamie moan with just his lips on Jamie's. Jamie clutches him tight with one hand while the other stays on Roy's chest, fingers running through his chest hair with a slow reverence.

"What were the other ways?" Roy says when he's finally content enough to break the kiss.

"Eh?"

"You imagined several ways last night could end," Roy reminds him, scraping his teeth along the jut of Jamie's jaw. "What else were you hoping for?"

"Fuck, so many things," Jamie gasps. "Been fantasizing about you for ages."

Roy lifts himself back up, dark eyes meeting Jamie's bright ones. Something clenches in his chest, and he's not sure whether it's regret for not getting this sooner, or fear of fucking it up. Probably fucking both.

Jamie doesn't catch onto his wavering, though, or at least doesn't let it slow him down. He cups his hands around Roy's arse and pulls him down onto him, their cocks rubbing together in a glorious bout of friction as Jamie works his hips. "Always just wanted to feel you," Jamie says, his eyes fluttering shut in pleasure as they rut against each other. "Your cock, your hands. Fuck, d'you wanna finger me?"

Roy's vision narrows, brain going fuzzy at the thought of getting his hands on Jamie's arse. His voice catches, but he manages to grit out, "I'd fucking love to."

He falls into another filthy kiss with Jamie, urging him to lift and spread his legs before he works a hand between them, teasing a finger between Jamie's cheeks as best he can without breaking the kiss. He finds the tight pucker of Jamie's hole, making Jamie's breath catch so prettily when he presses against it.

"Fuck, where's the fucking lube?" he rasps, frustrated that he can't just sink into Jamie's body at will. A few minutes of fumbling in the drawer unearths the bottle, and he turns back to find Jamie with his lip tucked under his teeth again, and a hand working between his legs, pressing where Roy's finger had just been.

"Oi, hands off," Roy says, knocking his arm away. "That's for me."

"Yeah, it fuckin' is," Jamie says, eyes blazing. He spreads his legs further as Roy settles between them. "C'mon, Roy. Wanna feel you."

Roy sits back on his haunches, leaving the lube aside for a moment as he spreads his hands up the back of Jamie's thighs, feeling the firm muscle and the soft skin as he makes his way up. Jamie's arse fits perfectly in the span of his hands, and he can't help thinking that if Jamie were in a different position, he'd give him a good smack right about now. The thought makes his dick twitch; probably something to come back to later.

For now, he just gives a squeeze before pulling back, grabbing the lube and coating his fingers. He teases at first, tugging at Jamie's rim and pressing a finger shallowly against his entrance and just rubbing there. Jamie keens, trying to press into the touch and take him inside, but Roy's got all the power on his side.

"Say please," he says, grinning at the desperation all over Jamie's face.

The flush already dusting Jamie's cheeks gets deeper, spreading down to his chest. "Please, Roy. I need it."

"That's a good boy," Roy says, and presses a finger inside. Jamie's sharp inhale is enough to send a thrill down his spine, and it only gets better as he works further in, making Jamie moan with only one finger.

"You look so fucking good taking me," Roy says, his gaze sweeping over Jamie's body, the way his chest heaves as Roy touches him, the look of unadulterated want on his face. He presses in a second finger and grins when Jamie bears down on him, begging for more. "Do you wanna come like this?"

"Fuck, please," Jamie pants, grabbing his legs to keep them spread. "Feels even better than I thought."

"Yeah?" Roy says, letting him adjust to two fingers before he starts working them harder, seeking out the spot that he's sure will make Jamie cry out. He's rewarded mere seconds later, as his fingers brush over that bundle of nerves and Jamie keens, his body folding in on itself and his cock leaking precome onto his abdomen at Roy's touch. "Tell me."

"Yeah, I'll tell you anything if you'll do that again. Tell you what?"

"What you thought about. What you'd do to yourself, imagining it was me."

"Oh, fuck," Jamie breathes. "Used to finger myself just like this. Legs spread, thinking of you over me. You were usually meaner."

"I can be meaner," Roy says, tucking a third finger next to the other two and pressing inside without warning.

"Ahhh," Jamie gasps, his cock twitching as he bears down on Roy's fingers again. "It was hot when you were mean, but—fuck. This is better. 'Cause you actually wanna be here."

"Yeah, I fucking do," Roy manages, a burst of warm affection drifting through the electric heat of arousal in his chest.

"Sometimes I'd fuck myself. With, like, a toy. I've got one that sticks to the side of my shower. Lets me pretend you snuck up on me at the club while I was showering, like after a match. Had to have me."

Roy has to pull his free hand back from where it's cupped around Jamie's arse to give himself a few strokes at that one. Fuck, there's no way he's lasting long enough to fuck Jamie right now, but that image is gonna stick with him for a while. He works his fingers in harder, making sure to brush Jamie's prostate on every thrust. "That's fucking right. Saw how gorgeous you were on the pitch, then saw this beautiful body on display. Knew it was all for me, didn't I? Had to sink right into you."

"Yeah. Yeah, fuck. Please, Roy, can I touch myself?"

"You don't fucking need to." Roy says, licking his lips. "You're gonna come for me, just like this."

Heat whips through him as Jamie processes this, whining and working his hips even harder to take Roy's fingers.

"Good boy," Roy rasps. He keeps working his wrist, stroking into Jamie hard and fast while he moves in closer to feel the heat radiating off him. "Take what you need. Let me see you come."

Jamie's lips part on a moan that doesn't stop, just grows louder and more erratic as he writhes with Roy's touch, his cock finally twitching and shooting come across his chest. His moan diminishes to a warm hum before finally dying out as Jamie settles, his chest still rising and falling with heavy breaths as he keeps his eyes trained on Roy.

"Fuck, Jamie," Roy says, overcome by what he's just witnessed—what he made happen.

"C'mere," Jamie commands, then doesn't wait before grabbing Roy around the waist and hauling him overtop. Roy doesn't even care about Jamie's come undoubtedly getting in his chest hair—he has a feeling this won't be the last time. The drag of his cock against Jamie's hip is perfect as Jamie works his tongue into Roy's mouth. Jamie wraps his arms around him and rolls them over, pinning Roy down and rocking against him with the full weight of his body.

Roy can hardly think, he just lets himself sink into the pleasure, kissing and rutting and grabbing at Jamie's arse, now that he can get his hands on it properly.

"Please, Roy," Jamie says, tearing himself out of their messy kiss. "Wanna feel you come." His cock is hard again, creating the perfect friction for Roy to grind into as he feels himself getting close.

"Can't believe you've been fucking holding out on me," Roy grits out, squeezing Jamie's arse as he works his hips. "Gonna fucking have you in the shower later. And the couch. The fucking kitchen. Everywhere."

"D'you fucking promise?" Jamie asks, breathless and elated. "Fuck, I think I'm gonna come again."

That does Roy in. He clenches his hands tight over the muscle of Jamie's arse and holds him close, grunting and writhing as pleasure coasts through him. He can feel his come making a mess of them both, but he can't bring himself to pull away.

"Holy shit. That might be the hottest thing I've ever seen," Jamie says, his eyes wide as his hips work in short bursts against Roy. "Please, will you touch me? I'm so fucking close."

Roy finally lets his grip ease on Jamie so he can lift himself up a bit, then works a hand between them, letting his fingers coast through the mess of come coating Jamie's skin before he gets a hand on his cock.

"Oh, fuck," Jamie gasps, his arms trembling as he tries to hold himself in place.

"C'mon, Tartt," Roy teases with a sharp grin, "I know you can hold a plank for longer than that." He starts working his hand slowly, stroking tight but not fast enough to give Jamie what he needs.

Jamie works his hips, trying to fuck Roy's fist, but Roy keeps his strokes tantalizingly slow until Jamie cries out desperately. "Please, Roy. Please let me come, I promise it'll be so good."

"Mm. Gonna have to edge you properly some day. Bet you can do better than that."

"I'd let you do anything," Jamie says with a wicked grin of his own. "But not today, please."

Satisfied, Roy speeds up his strokes, cupping Jamie's arse with his other hand and urging him to fuck his fist. Once Jamie starts getting what he needs, it doesn't take long before he's whining gorgeously and spilling over Roy's fingers.

Jamie collapses onto him a few moments later, sighing happily as he splays out. Roy grunts and pokes at him until he's settled a little more comfortably, but still lets himself enjoy the feeling of Jamie's weight against his side while they're both well fucked out.

"We're a mess," Roy says eventually, knowing how annoying it'll be if he lets the situation linger much longer with his chest hair. "You're not gonna expect me to play out the shower fantasy if I go get cleaned up, are you?"

Jamie chuckles, the warmth of his breath cascading over Roy's skin. "Even I'm not that fast at recovery." He lifts his head to peer at Roy. "We could still shower together, though? Saves water."

"That's a myth," Roy says, "but alright. I'll make us breakfast after."

"Fuuuuck," Jamie says with a grin, shifting up to give Roy a light kiss. "I'm so fucking lucky."

* * *

After breakfast, they watch a movie, then get through half an episode of Taskmaster before Jamie starts working Roy up. Roy knows it's deliberate, and he tries to resist, but it's fairly hard to deny Jamie when they both want the same thing. This time, Roy sucks Jamie off first, then lets Jamie take his time, spreading Roy out on the bed and feeling up the rest of his body while his mouth stays busy on Roy's cock.

"I should probably go back to my place soon," Jamie says when Roy's making tea later that afternoon. Roy freezes for just a moment before he goes back to stirring in the sugar that he knows Jamie loves.

"Yeah, 'course," he says without turning around. Obviously they don't have to spend the whole day together. They've made it pretty clear that this is an ongoing thing between them, so Jamie going home just makes sense. It isn't a negative.

"You could come with me?" Jamie says haltingly, and Roy feels a rush of relief. "I need to get, like, clothes that actually fit me and aren't all posh for a date at Ola's. But maybe we could go out again? Properly this time."

Roy abandons the tea and stalks over to Jamie, hauling him into a deep kiss. "I'd love that."

The grin that breaks out over Jamie's face is brilliant. "Yeah. Mint."

They wind up at Kaia, Roy's choice since he fucked up the last one and wants to make it up to Jamie. He even dug out the deep purple button-up from the back of his closet, and he notices Jamie eyeing it with glee every chance he gets.

"You wore colour," Jamie murmurs, nudging his foot against Roy's under the table. "You must really like me."

Roy rolls his eyes. "I tolerate you at best."

"Sure tolerated me sucking your dick this morning," Jamie says, sitting back in his seat and drinking his water seemingly innocently while the toe of his shoe traces a line up Roy's calf.

Roy wraps himself around Jamie from behind as soon as they get back inside Jamie's house, kissing Jamie's neck and savoring the scent of faded cologne alongside the musky smell that's just Jamie. "Maybe you should shower," Roy suggests, thinking of that stupid toy of Jamie's for about the hundredth time since he mentioned it.

"Not gonna join me?" Jamie says, turning to give him a pout.

"Not yet," Roy says with a smirk. "But you were so good out there. Maybe I'll sneak a peek and won't be able to resist."

Jamie's eyes light up while his cheeks go red. "Really?"

Roy smacks him on the bum, grinning. "Go on, Tartt. Get yourself cleaned up."

Jamie practically bounces up the stairs, giddy with the idea. Roy shakes his head fondly, taking the time to remove his tie, then his shoes and socks, every piece of clothing meticulously folded and left on the table before he goes up to see how far Jamie's gotten.

He's not surprised to find Jamie, arse out, scrubbing slowly over his skin to let soap bubbles cascade down with the water over the slope of his arse. He lets himself enjoy the show knowing that it also means Jamie's left waiting. When Jamie peeks over his shoulder one too many times, he finally speaks up. "Oi, you better be showering properly and not wasting the club's water." He feels a bit ridiculous, but the way Jamie's face lights up makes it worth it. "I might have to come check on you."

Jamie takes the bait in his own way, turning around and soaping up his front a bit more efficiently, but with a particular focus on the jut of his cock as he leans back to feel the pressure of the water against his scalp. "Just feels so good, Coach."

Jamie abandons the washcloth to reach for a little bottle hiding behind his conditioner. Even through the murkiness of the semi-transparent shower wall, there's no question of what it is when he pours it over his fingers and spreads it out. He makes eye contact with Roy as he reaches back, then gives a gasp as he starts to work himself open.

Roy strokes his cock slowly, letting himself get lost in Jamie's fantasy as he brings himself to full hardness. Jamie's eyes drift down to his hand, his mouth hanging open as he starts to rock against his own fingers. "Doesn't sound like you're using the facilities as intended, Tartt."

Jamie groans, turning himself around and letting Roy see his fingers plunging deep inside. "Dunno, Coach. You might have to show me."

Roy stalks into the shower, letting the door slam shut behind him, crowding Jamie against the wall. He lets his lips brush over the shell of Jamie's ear as he grits out, "Putting on a show for me, aren't you, Tartt?" He shifts his hips forward so his cock is nestled nicely in the cleft of Jamie's arse. "Just like out on the pitch. It's all for me, isn't it?"

"Fuck, Coach. Yeah, all for you. Wanna be the best for you."

"So when you scored that hat trick against United," Roy goes on, noting how Jamie shudders, "that was for me too, yeah?"

"All for you," Jamie repeats, rubbing back against him.

"And this?" Roy asks, fisting his own cock and rubbing the hand down his cleft, letting it catch on his rim. "All this for me too?"

"Please," Jamie says, spreading his legs. He fumbles for the little bottle on the shelf and holds it back for Roy silently.

Roy slicks himself up, a frenzied sort of feeling zipping up his spine. He's so lost in the roleplay, but the thought floats to the front of his mind that this is real, too. This is their first time fucking this way. "Wanna hear you say it, Tartt," he says roughly. "Tell me what you want."

"Please, Roy. Coach," Jamie says, slipping a little just like Roy. "I wanna feel you inside me. Around me. Want you to take what you need from my body."

Roy snakes an arm around Jamie's middle, pressing their bodies flush together. He guides the head of his cock to press against Jamie's slick hole. "Is this how you imagined it?"

"Better," Jamie breathes, thrusting his hips back.

"Mm. Keep still. This isn't some toy stuck to your wall." He pushes in, just past the rim, letting Jamie's moan wash over him. "This is the real thing."

"Oh fuck," Jamie cries, clutching onto Roy's arm that's wrapped around him. He holds on for dear life as Roy works himself further in, and shudders when he bottoms out. Rolling his hips, he lets out a delighted laugh. "That's it. Fuck."

"You can touch yourself," Roy mutters roughly as he begins to leisurely thrust into him. "Just don't come 'til I say."

"Fuck, Coach. Could feel your eyes on me. Knew you wanted some of this."

"I always see you," Roy says, his heart clenching at the truth of it. He's such a fool, missing it all this time. "Never gonna let you go now."

Jamie moans, his hand striping over his cock as he works to meet Roy's thrusts.

"You like it fast or slow, when you do it like this?"

Jamie hums, tipping his head back onto Roy's shoulder. "Slow as I could manage, so I could make it last. But I don't have to fantasise today." He snaps his hips back, and Roy can barely bite back a groan. "I want it from you hard, fast."

A growl works its way free of Roy's throat as Jamie’s words hit home, and his hips are snapping before he's fully aware of it. Jamie's body takes him so readily, so perfectly, it's like Jamie was made for him.

"You're glorious out there, y'know. On the pitch. Making Richmond's colors look good."

"Even the third kit?" Jamie teases, but his laugh cuts off at a particularly firm thrust from Roy.

"All the kits look good on you," Roy says, and it's fucking true. Now that he thinks back, he can easily remember Jamie's arse filling out every one of their kits. Fuck, how long has he been missing his own interest?

Roy tries to keep up the dirty talk, but his grip on coherency slips as he loses himself in the thrill of Jamie's body. Jamie isn't any better, moaning and grabbing at him, begging for Roy to keep fucking him, just like that.

When he's so close to the edge he can feel it in his teeth, Roy grabs hold of the last shaky thread of his control and says, "You never asked what I want."

"W-what do you want? Anything."

Roy nips at his ear. "Want you to come for me, baby."

Jamie cries out, spilling over his fist immediately and clenching over Roy's heated prick. He barely manages another thrust before he follows Jamie over the edge, burying himself deep inside and sinking into the pleasure of his twitching cock held tight inside Jamie.

They stay molded together for a long moment, breathing together as the shower spray rains down on them from above.

It's weirdly domestic, toweling off together after everything that just happened. Roy runs his towel over Jamie's hair the way he's seen him do it dozens of times, grinning at the tousled look when he's done.

"Can I borrow some clothes? Don't exactly fancy pouring myself back into slacks."

"Yeah, 'course," Jamie says with a smirk. "Why didn't you bring any? Didn't think I was a sure thing?"

Roy shrugs. "Didn't know how fast you'd want me out of your hair."

Jamie gives him a look like he's lost the plot. "I like you in my hair. You are staying over, right?"

Roys swallows and, after a beat, nods.

"Mint," Jamie says, smacking a kiss to his lips before bouncing away to the bedroom. Roy shakes his head, trying not to be charmed.

* * *

A few hours later, Roy is staring at Jamie's ceiling in the dark. There's a weird section in the seemingly random popcorn ceiling that looks a bit like a kebab in the dark, or maybe Roy's just got a craving.

Jamie's lying half on top of him, snuffling in his sleep, and it's endearing as fuck, but it's also why he can't sleep. Not that he minds the closeness or the noises—fuck, he's missed actually sleeping with someone. Feeling skin against skin and knowing that if one of them catches an elbow they can just laugh it off before they find a new way to fit together. But that's the part that has his heart beating just a bit too fast, his mind too clouded to let him sleep: the fucking intimacy.

Everything just felt right when Jamie walked into his kitchen this morning—and fuck, was that just this morning? Several things had slotted into place with the realisation—why he's been fantasising more about men recently, the way he keeps finding excuses to do things with Jamie so that they're all but inseparable even though it's the off season. But now Roy's left with only his thoughts for company, and his thoughts are very centered around all the ways he could fuck this up.

He's not even sure what 'this' is, in Jamie's eyes. He thinks it's probably more than just fucking, given the way Jamie had reacted to his slip of an endearment, but he's not fully confident. They've been to dinner twice now, sort of officially, but they did that before they were fucking. The flirting had been more intentional, but that was about the only difference.

He wants it to be real, and that's what makes his heart ache. Jamie could do so much better than some footballer past his prime with emotional issues. If Roy were a less selfish man, he'd slip out right now and let Jamie down easy. Jamie would pout about the fun he'd miss out on, but he'd bounce back quick.

But Roy's a selfish prick, and he doesn't want it to end so soon. Even if it's just fucking, he wants to grab on with both hands for as long as his grip can last.

* * *

After four consecutive days spent entirely in each other's company, Roy gets a text from his sister reminding him of his promise to Phoebe.

"Ah, fuck," Roy grumbles, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. "I've gotta drive Phoebe around London today for this Festival of Architecture bullshit."

"Architecture?" Jamie asks. "She gonna be building buildings?"

"Apparently most of it's like a giant playground for kids to climb on or in or whatever. She heard about it last year when she went back to school after the summer and she's been whinging about missing it ever since."

Jamie smirks at him. "I need pictures of you climbing on or in things."

"You can keep on dreaming about that. I'll be there as a chaperone only. Make sure she doesn't break a leg or whatever."

Jamie gets out of bed and stretches, his t-shirt riding up to reveal his well-shaped arse, complete with bite marks Roy has left behind over the last few days' adventures. "Don't suppose you have time for breakfast before you go?" Jamie asks, glancing at Roy over his shoulder. He knows exactly what he's doing, the little shit.

"No, but I could use a shower."

Jamie grins.

An hour later, Roy has a giant coffee in the cup holder and an eager Phoebe chattering away in his backseat. Their first stop is downtown, in the hopes that they can beat any crowds early in the day.

"And anyway, Chandra says that the inspiration tunnel's the best part of the whole thing. What's the thing you're most looking forward to, Uncle Roy?"

Roy takes a long drink of his coffee. He counts to ten in his head and reminds himself that he shouldn't say, Going back home when it's over. "The inspiration tunnel is by that ice cream place you like, yeah?" Phoebe nods eagerly in his rearview mirror. "That's what I'm looking forward to, then."

While they get stuck waiting to park, she asks him how he's been enjoying his holiday and what he's been doing, and Roy has to scramble to come up with a version of events that isn't fucking Jamie Tartt on the regular.

"I knew he was your best friend," Phoebe says with a sly smile.

Roy takes an unsteady breath in. "I really wouldn't call him that."

It's a relief once they get out of the car, when there are plenty of structures and booths and shiny things to keep Phoebe occupied. Roy follows along with his head down and his collar pulled up, paying for things when he needs to and encouraging her to try things out when she's unsure. He takes a few pictures and videos for Fiona, then after a moment's hesitation, sends the one of her smiling out through the middle of a string maze she'd made to Jamie as well.

u gonna climb in there and untangle her when she gets stuck?

pretty sure there's scissors somewhere around here

dont u fuckin dare roy kent!!! that is ART

Roy chuckles, then Phoebe calls out to him to ask what he's laughing at.

"Just Jamie being a little prick as usual," Roy admits, already dreading the teasing.

But Phoebe's face lights up. "Can you video call him? I want him to see my masterpiece," she says, tossing her ball of twine up again to tangle further in the criss-cross of string already there. Roy really hopes she can get out of the mess herself, or that one of the adults in charge knows more about untying knots from hyperactive children.

Roy tries to dissuade her, saying that Jamie might be busy (he's not) or that he might not answer (he's already FaceTiming Roy after the text message warning him about Phoebe's wishes), but he loses the battle on all fronts.

"Hi, Uncle Jamie!" Phoebe calls, waving frantically toward Roy's phone as soon as he trains the camera on her. Roy's breath catches at the term, but it's windy enough out that he figures his phone won't pick it up.

"Oh wow, she's really in there," Jamie says with a laugh in his voice.

"She'll figure it out. She's very agile," Roy says, then raises his voice to assure Phoebe that Jamie loves it.

The appeal of talking to someone who will talk back is apparently greater than tangling herself further, so within a couple minutes, Phoebe is clambering out and taking Roy's phone so she can chat away with 'Uncle' Jamie and recap all the sights she's seen so far.

At the end of the blocked off streets, there's an installation of scattered low platforms, and Phoebe hands over Roy's phone wordlessly before tearing off to jump around.

"Fucking hell," Roy grouses, switching the camera back so Jamie can see what Phoebe's doing. "I should've wrapped her in a bubble before we left the house."

"She'll be alright. I heard she's very agile."

Roy smiles down at the image of Jamie on his screen. "You can beg off if you want. I’m sure you have better ways to spend your afternoon than talking to some kid about buildings and structures."

"You kidding? This is the best day I’ve had all week."

"Oi," Roy says sharply, and Jamie snickers.

“Is it weird if I say I miss you?”

"Of course it is, you freak." Roy turns the camera around so Jamie can see his smile. "Miss you, too."

After Phoebe tires herself out on the platforms without injury, they head back to the G-Wagon to transition over to the park installment. Roy hopes there are lots of architecturally important benches there, because he's already ready for a nap.

Luckily, Jamie doesn't beg off, and keeps Phoebe entertained through their foray through traffic and the first several minutes of the park. Roy should've just invited him along; he figured he was giving Jamie a break, but if anything this has been more of a distraction while Jamie could be doing other things.

They find a painting workshop just as it's starting at the little gazebo in the park, and Roy gets to sit and watch and chat to Jamie while Phoebe goes to town with colorful paints on a big wooden display.

"You gonna make it?" Jamie quips. He's on his fucking treadmill at home, the energetic prick. "You should've had me along to run laps with Phoebe. Tire her out."

"Yeah, I should've," Roy admits, too tired to diminish his regret at leaving Jamie behind.

The steady sounds of Jamie's footsteps don't falter, but he does seem to stumble for a second. They just look at each other for a few long moments. Roy feels like he's stuck his foot in it, but he doesn't know what else to say.

"Are you taking her back to Fiona's after this?"

"Back to mine," Roy sighs. "Fiona's got a double shift."

Jamie makes a noise of understanding, his eyes flicking down to the console on his treadmill. Roy's dithering over inviting him for dinner when Phoebe calls out, "Uncle Roy! Jamie! Come see what I made!"

After the painting and the jungle gym in the park, Phoebe is sufficiently wiped out, so they say goodbye to Jamie and begin the drive back. Of course, they leave at the worst possible moment when traffic is at its worst, so Roy decides to take backroads.

Thirty minutes later, he's cursing and pulling off the road with a flat tire.

"I thought we were going home," Phoebe grumbles, waking up and rubbing at her eyes.

Roy closes his eyes and counts to ten. "We are, Pheebs. I just gotta do something real quick. Go back to sleep, we’ll be there soon."

He doesn't want her to worry, so he steps out of the car to call for a tow. The guy on the other end tells him he's third on his list for the night—yes, even if Roy pays extra. Roy hangs up and thunks his forehead against the side of the car, cursing to himself.

He runs through some of the mental exercises he learned from Dr. Sharon to calm himself down, then thumbs through his phone to call Jamie.

"Missed me so soon?" Jamie's voice sounds down the line, and it soothes Roy faster than any other mindfulness bullshit could, especially when Jamie follows it up with a laugh. "Oi, as much as I like looking at your ear, it works better when you hold the phone out, grandad."

"Fuck. Meant to just call," Roy says, holding the phone out to see Jamie's smiling face.

The playful smile drops from Jamie’s face as soon as he sees Roy’s expression. "What’s wrong?"

Roy grunts. "Ran over something in the road coming back. Tire’s fucking toast. I don’t have a spare since the last one got slashed, and I’ve got a cranky Phoebe half-dozing in my backseat."

"Send me where you’re at, I’ll be there as fast as I can."

A noise of longing escapes Roy's lips before he can think to stop it. That sounds fucking heavenly, but— "You don't need to do that. I'll get us a fucking Uber after the tow truck comes."

"And how long's that gonna be? Nah, mate, send me your coordinates. I'll be there in a flash. You two still haven't eaten, yeah? I'll pick up dinner on the way."

Roy can’t describe the relief he feels hearing that. "Alright, fine," he says, smiling a bit for the camera's sake before he gets the info and texts it Jamie's way. They stay on the phone, chatting and keeping silent, until Phoebe wakes up and joins him outside.

"Why are we—ohhh, fuuuuck," she says, spotting the now very flat tire.

"I'll allow that one given the circumstances," Roy says.

"I won't!" Jamie says, scandalised. "Phoebe, I'm telling your mum!"

"Jamie!" Phoebe says brightly, reaching for the phone and ignoring the threat. They banter back and forth a bit, and then Roy sees Jamie's car rounding the bend down the road.

They all prop up on the hood of Jamie's car to eat, and it might be the best Nando's that Roy's ever eaten. Jamie smiles at him and knocks their knees together as often as he thinks he can get away with, so it's not all that surprising when Phoebe asks, "Uncle Roy, are you and Jamie boyfriends?"

The only reason Roy doesn't choke is because he doesn't currently have anything in his mouth. Still, he swallows thickly as his and Jamie's eyes meet, both of them searching for the answer in the other's expression.

"It's just that you always talk about each other when you're not talking to each other, and Carol says that that's what happens when you're in love with someone."

"Who the fuck is Carol?" Roy asks without looking away from Jamie, reaching out to put a hand on his knee. He hopes that Jamie takes it to mean he's good with whatever answer Jamie wants to give.

"She's my neighbor! She has six cats and two snakes."

"What a fuckin' combo," Roy murmurs as Jamie covers his hand with his own. Their eyes meet again and Jamie nods. "D'you still care about your question, or have we moved onto Carol?"

"I care," Phoebe says simply, munching on another bite of chicken.

"Then yeah, I reckon we are boyfriends." Jamie ducks his head, and Roy squeezes his hand. Another car rounds the bend and starts trundling down the road toward them, so he reluctantly lets go. "We're not telling the fucking world though, so don't go calling up the Sun. Or any of your nosey little friends, they're almost as bad."

"None of my friends is a reporter," Phoebe says, scrunching her nose. "Except maybe Madison, she's always blabbing secrets. Don't worry, Uncle Roy, I'll keep it in the family."

Roy groans. That means he has to tell Fiona. After the way she'd teased him so much for being in a good mood when he picked up Phoebe this morning, she'll be incorrigible.

Jamie asks Phoebe when she thinks she'll start dating, which Roy is ready to shut down immediately, but Phoebe scrunches up her nose at that too. Thank fuck. He needs another decade before he has to deal with that shit.

They're finishing up the chocolate Jamie brought for dessert—"it ain't ice cream, but that would've melted before I got it to ya, so I figured it was alright"—when the tow truck drives up.

"Thank fuck," Roy breathes, and Jamie squeezes his arm before he goes off to deal with the handoff.

Jamie drives them over to Roy's, and after a long look with Roy, follows them inside and deposits himself on the couch. Roy presses a kiss to his forehead before he takes Phoebe up to bed.

Jamie's still in the same spot, scrolling on his phone, when Roy comes back down. "You didn't even turn on the TV? What have you done with Jamie?"

"Didn't know if you'd want me to stay," Jamie says softly, eyes trailing up the stairs toward Phoebe's room.

"She sleeps like a log," Roy says, waving a hand in dismissal. "You wanna come up?"

"Yeah, alright. I—erm," he huffs a light laugh as he lifts to his feet. "I've got an overnight bag in the boot of my car. Just in case."

"Muppet," Roy says affectionately, unable to resist moving in to kiss his forehead again. He can feel his eyes shining when he pulls away. "Go get it and meet me upstairs."

When Jamie joins Roy in his room, he pulls out one of his usual sleep shirts and changes into it, then ditches his trackies for a pair of boxers. Roy watches him in amusement, waiting for Jamie to look up at him and ask, "What?"

"I think that's the most underwear I've ever seen you wear."

"There's a kid around," Jamie says, blushing adorably. "What if I sleepwalk or summat?"

Roy's grateful that it doesn't seem like Jamie's looking to get laid tonight, because he really is exhausted after the whole day. "I need a shower," he says, "but I won't take long."

"Go ahead, and take your time. Brought something to keep me occupied, didn't I?" Jamie digs in his overnight back before making a triumphant noise and pulling out a copy of American Gods. Roy swallows against the surge of affection that shoots through him.

"Neil Gaiman."

"You were right. He's fuckin' brilliant."

Roy can't resist kissing him for a bit before he heads off to shower, but Jamie doesn't exactly complain.

In the shower, memories of the day wash over Roy as warmly as the water does, and he catches himself smiling more than once. He never would've guessed he'd come out of this year with a boyfriend—Jamie Tartt as a boyfriend, of all things. It's absurd, but it also feels too good to be true, now that he's in it. By the time he gets back out of the shower, he's frowning again.

"What's going on in that thick head of yours?" Jamie says, cluing in as soon as Roy slips under the covers and cuddling up to his side.

Roy looks at him, the earnest sheen of his eyes, the perfect pout of his lips, the steady press of his hands on Roy's skin, and decides not to brush off the question. "You sure you want me to be your boyfriend?"

Jamie stifles a laugh against Roy's shoulder. It does nothing to calm Roy's nerves. Seeing Roy's unwavering expression, he stops laughing, at least. "Babe, you can't be serious." He cuddles a bit closer, wrapping his arm around Roy's middle. "Dating you is, like, a dream come true."

Roy rolls onto his side, letting Jamie pull their bodies closer together. "I get that you have some kind of… hero worship thing. But the reality is… not that." He stares at Jamie's eyebrow so he won't get distracted by his eyes, trying to use some of his new therapy words to get this out right. "I'm not gonna measure up to the version of me you have in your head."

This time it's Jamie kissing Roy's forehead, and Roy's eyes flutter shut. It's nice; no wonder Jamie likes it. "Let me tell you about the Roy in my head," Jamie starts, taking Roy's hand and threading their fingers together. "He's a grumpy old twat, but not actually that old, and only that grumpy when he's uncomfortable."

"Still a twat, then?" Roy says, some of the mess in his head starting to unravel.

"Let me finish," Jamie chides with an easy grin. "He tries to carry on like he doesn't care about anything, but he actually cares a lot, and once you make the short list, you never wanna be off of it. Me, I weaseled my way into getting personal training from him, and once I knew what it was like to be subject to the Roy Kent effect all the time, I made sure I never had to lose it."

"Jamie…"

"Still not done. The Roy in my head is way different from the one on my poster in Manchester. That bloke was well fit, but he wasn't my Roy yet. The Roy I know spends the day with his niece doing things he'd never be caught dead doing otherwise, and never lets on that he's uncomfortable. He lets me hang around all the time, even when I'm being annoying, and he doesn't let me get away with any bullshit. So I'm not gonna let him get away with his own neither."

A needy noise falls from Roy's lips, and he pushes his way forward to kiss Jamie soundly while his words are still running through his head. Five days in, and they're already this intense. It's terrifying; it's exhilarating.

"I've been thinking," Roy says roughly when he finally manages to pull away from Jamie's warm embrace. Jamie arches a brow at him. "A good thing this time, I think. There's… a lot I haven't done. With… men."

Jamie's mouth drops open to form a perfect 'o'. Roy lets his eyes fall to it, reminding himself how good everything they've tried together has been so far.

"I've never been fucked," Roy says in a rush. "Not really. Just… fingers. But… if that's something you want to try…"

"Roy, holy fuck," Jamie breathes, sounding winded. "You want me to fuck you?"

"Not right now," Roy says quickly, his heart skipping a beat in alarm.

"No, of course not right now. Phoebe's barely across the hall. I'm gonna have you going loud enough that your neighbors will complain." He strokes a hand down Roy's side, eyes wide and full of excitement. "You've really never done it before?" He doesn't wait for an answer, just grins even wider. "Babe, I'm gonna make you feel so good."

"I might hate it," Roy warns him. The first time he'd been fingered, it had been awful. Of course, the girl he was with had been new to it, too, and her nails were entirely too long. He's had much better experiences with it since, but never been quite brave enough to try anything more… advanced.

Jamie nods, his expression turning serious. "If you don't like it, we won't do it. If this is something you think you hafta do for me, because we're boyfriends or whatever, it's not. I'm very happy to get railed by you every fucking time."

Roy rolls his eyes affectionately. "I'm sure you are. Needy," he says, reaching out to squeeze at Jamie's arse. "No, I really do want to try. With you. I think it'll be good with you."

Jamie tilts their foreheads together, and they stay like that for a long moment. Then, Jamie breaks the silence. "You're really testing me on trying to behave while Phoebe's here."

Roy snorts. "Go to bed. Muppet."

* * *

Even though Roy is nervous about his first time bottoming, Jamie makes it very clear over the next week that he's doing everything he can to make it fun and easy for Roy. At first, Roy tries to be annoyed at the fanfare, but after several very satisfying prostate orgasms brought about by Jamie's hand, he can't complain.

Unfortunately, that does nothing to soothe his nerves on the Official Night, but he does his damnedest to act normal as Jamie leads him to bed after their shower.

Jamie holds out a hand to stop him and drops onto the mattress, shifting so that he's spread across the middle of the bed, head nearly hanging over the side.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

Jamie grins up at him, eyes nearly going crossed. "I'm gonna help you loosen up first."

Roy grunts. "That's what fingering's for, innit? Do we have to do some weird acrobatic shit?"

"I won't make you strain yourself," Jamie says, licking his lips. "I want you to sit on my face."

"What?" Roy says absently over the roaring in his ears.

"You fucking love my tongue, yeah? Bet you'll love it even more inside you. And it'll help you get used to, like, the feeling. Before we take it further."

Roy stares down at him, adrift. It's not a new concept to him, but—fuck, it's definitely not something he'd ever thought of for himself. "Wouldn't it be easier if I got on my stomach or something?"

Jamie raises his eyebrows. "You'd be comfortable with that?" Roy doesn't answer. He's not sure he's comfortable with anything at the moment. "Nah, babe, this'll be perfect. Just wait and see." He wriggles a bit, tipping his head back and beckoning Roy over.

"How are you meant to breathe?" Roy says as he takes a step closer.

Jamie's eyes flash. "This ain't the first time I've done this. I'll tap you to ease up if I need a break."

But Roy doesn't miss the heat in his gaze, the twitch of his cock at the suggestion he might not be able to breathe. He shifts his weight from one foot to another and lets a smirk ease its way onto his face. "Is this a thing for you?"

Jamie licks his lips again, slowly and deliberately. "Get your arse down here and find out."

It's easier to turn himself around and do as Jamie asks with the knowledge that it's doing something for Jamie, too. He lowers himself slowly, twitching a bit when Jamie gets his hands on his arse, but then letting Jamie guide him down. The first press of Jamie's tongue sends molten heat down his spine, a groan tearing out of his throat before he knows it's happening.

Jamie's hand shifts to pull him down further, a moan rolling over Roy's sensitive skin as Jamie's tongue laps against his hole. "Fuck," Roy bites out, rocking against the sensation and reaching for his cock. An indescribable noise jolts out of him when Jamie presses inside, the warm, wet drag of his tongue setting a fire inside Roy.

It feels so good that Roy forgets to be nervous. He lets go of his cock only because he needs to brace his hands on the edge of the bed for balance as he gets lost in the pleasure of Jamie's tongue taking him apart. When Jamie taps him for a break, he moves away diligently, but not without a slight whine at the loss.

"That was fucking mint," Jamie says, taking in deep, shuddering breaths and wiping spit from his chin. "How d'you feel?"

"Your mouth is fucking amazing." Roy's hole is still fluttering, missing the press of Jamie's tongue. His gaze zeroes in on Jamie's cock, hard and leaking against his abdomen. "I want you back inside me. Whatever way you want."

"Fuck, Roy," Jamie says, passing a hand over his straining cock. He sits up with a huff. "Get down here on the bed, then, so I can start getting you used to my fingers while I tongue-fuck you."

Roy almost protests that he's ready to take all of him, but he remembers the intimidating press of the toy he hadn't managed to get inside him and decides to let Jamie keep setting the pace.

Jamie is even more relentless once he gets Roy underneath him, licking intently and using his teeth a bit until Roy's thoroughly distracted. The intrusion of his finger barely registers as Jamie sucks his balls into his mouth and then drags his tongue slowly up to press in alongside it. Once he's got two fingers working into him, brushing over his prostate, Roy finds himself getting desperate.

"If you don't get a move on, I'm gonna come like this and leave you to take care of yourself."

Jamie laughs warmly as he leisurely strokes his fingers into Roy. "I love when you make threats you don't mean. Lets me know you're really hot for it."

Roy growls. On any other night, he'd teach Jamie a lesson, let him know that his threats weren't empty, but Jamie's got him on this one. He wants Jamie inside him so bad he's been dreaming about it, and now that they're in the thick of it, he'd be denying himself as much as Jamie if he cut things off here.

Jamie leans over him, pressing kisses along his back until he reaches Roy's shoulder. "Can I get you on your back?" Jamie murmurs. "I wanna see your face."

It's such an earnest request that Roy doesn't even think of denying him. He twists over, even when it causes Jamie's fingers to slip away. He feels frustratingly empty again, but the feeling doesn't linger as Jamie captures his lips in a deep, prolonged kiss. Jamie's fingers slip back inside at a new angle as they press into each other, lips sliding and tongues exploring. Roy wants to take as much of Jamie into himself as he can, and when he finally grits out a, "Please," between kisses, Jamie moans and positions himself between Roy's spread legs.

It's like being split open at first, but Roy's used to taking his pleasure with a little bit of pain.

"Need me to slow down?" Jamie grunts, every word seeming to take extreme effort.

"No," Roy says, bearing down on him as best he can. "Need you to get in."

Fuck, it's so much, sensation rushing through Roy while he grits his teeth, but then Jamie slides home and shudders against him, as close as he can get, and Roy finds himself able to breathe again. He clutches Jamie to him, knowing he'll have to let him go if he's going to move properly, but just needing to feel his weight for a second.

"Roy," Jamie says roughly, tucking his face into Roy's neck.

"Just—stay there a second," Roy rasps, and he feels Jamie's nod against his shoulder.

He's so fucking full that tears are pricking at his eyes, and it's—kind of fucking perfect, actually. The discomfort he started with has already shifted to a pleasant burn, and while part of him is eager to indulge in the sensations of Jamie fucking him, he's not fully ready to let go of this moment. Jamie doesn't argue, either, just breathes steadily against him and waits.

Finally, Roy's legs start to protest the stretch, and he has to let Jamie go. He still lets a hand stroke down Jamie's arm as he pushes himself up, though, holding onto his wrist once he's done. "C'mon, then. Show me what I've been missing."

Jamie's grin is sharp, and the first thrust of his hips hits Roy like a spark to a fuse. Fuck, he's got fucking nerve endings everywhere, and Jamie's lighting up all of them.

"That's it, babe. You're taking me so fucking well. Feels good, don't it?"

Roy groans, stroking himself in time with Jamie's thrusts. "Can see why you love it."

"Gonna get you hooked on it. You'll always want something inside."

"Not 'something'," Roy grunts. Fuck, he can't be this close to coming already. "Just you."

Jamie's hips stutter as his eyes widen. "Ah, fuck. Roy—I can't—" He grabs onto Roy's thighs and shoves in fully, and Roy marvels at the sensation of a cock twitching its release inside him.

It's fucking filthy, and phenomenal, and enough to push him over the edge, making Jamie moan loud enough to wake the neighbors as his orgasm makes him clench down on Jamie's cock. "Fuuuuuck," he breathes, rolling his hips a bit as he continues to work his cock, coming for what feels like an eternity.

He feels wrung out in the best way when he finally lets go of his cock and Jamie pulls out. He keeps a hand on Jamie's arm, not letting him go far, molding their bodies together as soon as they stretch out next to each other.

"That was meant to last longer," Jamie says with a wry laugh, nudging his nose along Roy's jaw and pressing kisses to his beard.

Roy's not sure he could've handled longer. "Figured you were building me up to it. Something about old men having to pace themselves."

"It was fucking brilliant," Jamie says with a happy sigh. "Next time'll be even better."

Roy grins and tilts his head down to meet Jamie in a kiss of agreement.

* * *

It's Jamie's second day in Brazil, and Roy's about to vibrate out of his skin. Jamie had been seconds away from leaving for Manchester—literally, he was about to get into his car—when he'd invited Roy to come along with him, to Manchester and on to Brazil. Roy had frozen in panic, thoughts awash with how tired Jamie would be of him after ten straight days of travel, where he was sure to get clingier and grumpier as time went on. Jamie had given him a second chance while he was sitting in his car, leaning out of the window, but Roy had pasted on a smile and insisted on staying behind like a proper cunt. He's been home regretting his decision ever since.

Jamie FaceTimes him as soon as he's done for the day, which is past Roy's bedtime, but it's not like he'd be able to sleep otherwise. He lets Jamie's exuberance wash over him as he recounts everything Nike had him do on the shoot today.

"You're gonna look well fit," Roy says. "Gonna have to frame the end result and put it in the trophy room."

He's teasing, of course, and Jamie's laugh means he takes it as teasing, but Roy can't help but imagine how good that room would look if they made space for Jamie's accolades, including some of his sponsorships and ad runs. Roy might actually find a reason to go in there occasionally in that case.

After Roy fails to stifle a yawn three times in a row, Jamie sighs. "I should let you go. You need your beauty sleep more than ever in your old age."

"Fuck off," Roy says, chuckling. "Just because you're young and in an earlier time zone you think you're so clever. Don't forget I've seen you go to bed at 9 on a Saturday."

"Don't think it counts as going to bed if I was already in bed and it came after you fucked me brains out."

Roy hums, letting that memory wash over him. He sees this opportunity, knows he could let his hand slide between his legs and lower his voice, start talking about that time. But they did that last night, and he felt a bit hollow after they hung up. It's fucking pathetic, but he doesn't really want it if he can't actually touch Jamie.

"Call me in the morning," he says instead, and to his credit, Jamie doesn't look disappointed.

"Sweet dreams, babe," Jamie says, making kissy faces at him through the phone.

Roy signs off, "Try not to get into any trouble. I'll expect a full report in the morning."

An hour later, he's lying in the same spot in bed. He's tossed and turned too many times to count, the duvet twisted all to hell. He'd been so sure he could fall asleep when he hung up with Jamie, but then he'd gotten caught up on the missed opportunity for phone sex, and then the missed opportunity for real sex, if he'd had the balls to just go with Jamie when he'd asked.

He also can't stop checking his phone to see if Jamie's texted, but of course he hasn't because he's saving it for the 'report' Roy asked for in the morning, fucking time zones.

It's four in the morning when he gets on Google Flights and finds the earliest flight to São Paulo. He grabs a backpack and the few things he thinks he might need and drives himself to the airport, cursing himself the whole way for waiting this long.

By the time he's boarded, he knows Jamie is asleep, but he's got twelve hours ahead of him and can't sleep for shit on planes, so he pays for wifi and fucks around on sports forums while he waits for Jamie to wake up.

When he runs out of steam, he pulls up the latest Mission Impossible on his screen. He watches some old guy pull off his face to become Tom Cruise, and then he blinks and the credits are rolling.

He grunts, rolling his shoulders to get the tension out, taking a second to get his bearings. Fuck, he actually fell asleep on a flight for once. The pull of sleep is still with him, and he fucks with his headrest, thinking about letting himself doze off again, but then his phone vibrates against his hip, and he realises that's what woke him up to begin with.

It's some stupid notification from his exercise app, but he realises his wifi connection timed out while he wasn't using it. After a few quick clicks to get reconnected, he receives a stack of communications—three missed FaceTime calls with Jamie, a couple regular calls, and a string of texts that go from teasing to worried to pretending everything is fine. Fuck.

I'm so fucking sorry

My phone died and I didn't notice

He hates the lie, but he can't give up the surprise now, when he's so close to revealing it in person.

My signal is shit right now but I'll call you as soon as I can

The wait through customs feels interminable, but once Roy is finally in a cab on his way to Jamie's hotel, he feels like he can breathe again. He pops in his earbuds and tries FaceTime, even though it's the middle of the day and Jamie is no doubt working.

To his surprise, Jamie answers almost immediately. His expression is wide-eyed and excited, and the sight of it makes Roy's heart clench. And then he laughs, a warm, relieved sound, and Roy finds himself smiling. "Holy shit, Roy. Why didn't you just tell me you were out with the yoga mums all day? They must've put you through the ringer, you look like shit."

"How d'you know it was the yoga mums?" Roy says, affronted. He looks fine. He's a bit tired, but that could happen any day.

"Nobody else could drag you out of the house in the middle of the day and keep you too occupied to miss me, then wear you out before supper." Jamie's grin is infectious, and Roy is distracted by his artfully tousled hair and the touch of makeup he can see at this resolution.

"I still missed you," Roy assures him. "I'm angry with myself for missing your call."

Jamie's expression softens. "'S alright. We're talking now, yeah? I just wrapped up here, actually," he turns to wave at someone, and Roy's heart jumps into his throat. "I was gonna go somewhere for lunch. Maybe I can bring you along on the phone, pretend it's a date?" He scrunches his nose adorably, like he's acknowledging how cheesy that is, but he doesn't take it back.

"Maybe… you could go back to your room. Order room service," Roy suggests slowly, letting his voice dip to a lower register. He can feel his heart racing as Jamie's eyebrows shoot up. Only minutes now before Roy can get his hands on him.

"Oh, it's like that, is it?" Jamie murmurs, the light changing around him as he walks outside. "I can be back to my room in ten. How far are you from home? Or are you gonna give your cab driver a show?"

"Fifteen minutes," Roy says after checking the route. "And you're gonna wait for me. Put on something nice for me, yeah?"

Jamie shudders. "Yeah," he says with a rasp. "Fuck, I don't suppose you can hop on a flight to Brazil right now?"

"Literally impossible," Roy says with a smirk. This is gonna be so fucking good. "Just a few more days."

Jamie heaves a dramatic sigh, and Roy knows he's playing it up, but he also knows it wasn't an empty question. He can't wait to see Jamie's face when he shows up at his door.

"What room are you in? Maybe I'll send you a surprise."

"1401," Jamie responds without hesitation. "But don't make it tequila. That just makes me horny, and it won't be any fun without you."

Roy hangs up with the promise to call back in fifteen, then diverts his driver to the liquor store before they get to the hotel. He goes through the next few minutes on autopilot, and only when he's standing in front of Jamie's door does he think to be nervous.

He stares at the card reader defiantly, reminding himself that Jamie asked for him to come here less than half an hour ago. Jamie wants him here. Whatever fucking voice in his head is trying to tell him otherwise is just some arsehole, and definitely not Jamie.

He pulls up his phone to call Jamie back at the same moment he knocks. He flips the camera so that it's showing the door in front of him when Jamie answers. "Hey babe, sorry, one sec, the room service got here super fast and I can't find my fucking robe."

Roy blinks at the image in front of him, trying to place what he's seeing. "Is that my fucking kit?" It's an old Chelsea shirt, somewhere around 2012, he reckons. It stretches across Jamie's shoulders beautifully. Roy needs to see his name stretched over Jamie's back. "You can answer the door in that."

"It's not the shirt that's the problem, babe," Jamie says, checking the closet again.

Roy knocks again, uncaring at this point if Jamie hears it twice and figures him out. "Jamie. Answer the door."

"Alright, but if they make me pay a fine because of indecency or summat—" Jamie cuts himself off, seeing himself first on his phone through Roy's camera, and then his gaze snaps up, eyes going wide and gorgeous as he realises Roy's there.

"Holy fucking shit," Jamie shouts, tossing his phone away and pulling Roy into a fierce hug. Roy lets out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding as he holds him tight, breathing in the scent of him and letting go of the tension he's been holding onto for days.

Roy never wants to let him go, but he becomes increasingly aware of Jamie's thin briefs and the fact that they're still mostly in the hallway. "Alright, let's get you back in your room before we have to pay that fine you were talking about."

"Oh my god," Jamie says, pulling Roy with him as he backs into the room. "You're really here."

"You look fucking amazing," Roy says, stepping back to take in Jamie's blue pants with the Chelsea shirt, making him turn around so he can really appreciate everything clinging to him just right. "Wouldn't have come across nearly as perfect over FaceTime."

"I was gonna figure out something with the mirror," Jamie says, but then his breath catches as Roy takes two handfuls of his arse.

"Can't do this over FaceTime either."

"You complete arsehole," Jamie says, turning around and giving him a shove, but it's all undercut by the giant smile on his face. "I thought something happened to you when you weren't answering this morning."

"I could've been out with the yoga mums," Roy says defensively, giving Jamie a more purposeful shove toward the bed.

Jamie laughs, dropping back onto the huge mattress and pulling Roy down with him. "Only if there was some kinda crisis, and you said Janice has been killing it since she got that new job."

"I meant to be awake to answer you," Roy clarifies, stroking his fingers through Jamie's hair and letting himself enjoy the weight of Jamie's eyes on him. "I didn't get any sleep last night; it must've caught up with me the second I put the movie on."

"Couldn't wait to see me?" Jamie quips, and Roy just nods, a needy sound punching out of him at how true the statement is.

"Fuck, Roy," Jamie says with feeling, yanking him down and devouring him in a kiss. A sense of rightness fills Roy's chest as they cling to each other, every tangle of their tongues putting him more at ease.

They stay wrapped up in each other for ages, not knowing or caring how much time has passed until a sharp rap on the door pulls them out of their moment. Jamie looks absolutely wrecked—lips swollen, hair tousled for real this time, and the most gorgeous blush spreading across his cheeks. "I'll get it," Roy says, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Cover up. I don't actually want you giving the staff here a show."

"I swear I had a robe yesterday," Jamie grumbles, pulling down the sheets and slipping his legs underneath. Roy greets the room service people with an uncharacteristic smile and leaves them a hefty tip under Jamie's name, and as soon as the door shuts, he's back in bed with him.

"I am actually hungry, y'know," Jamie says.

"I'm sure you are," Roy says with a smirk, pressing his fingers to Jamie's lips. Jamie sucks them inside without hesitation, groaning when Roy slips his other hand between them to cup Jamie through his briefs.

Jamie grabs onto Roy's shoulders and rolls them over, smiling with teeth when he gets Roy pinned beneath him. They fall into another deep kiss before Jamie pulls away to gaze down at him, eyes wide and fond.

"Fuck, I wanna do everything with you. Make up for lost time. What’s your favorite thing?"

"Everything. Nothing," Roy says, overcome by the way Jamie's looking at him. Fuck, his exhaustion is manifesting as fucking sentiment. "My favorite thing is just to be with you. That sounds like a fucking line and I hate it, but it’s true. I’ve gone mad these last few days not seeing you."

Jamie's mouth falls open, his eyes mapping Roy's face. Roy's heart is racing again, more nerves than anything, but it's out there now. He has to keep pressing on.

"I know I can be fucking suffocating, but I’m working on that. Still, you should know what you're getting into."

Jamie cups a hand against Roy's jaw, holding it there like Roy's something precious. "I don’t think you’re suffocating," he says, swallowing thickly. "I’m the one that begged you to come with me."

"You hardly begged."

"I wanted to. Figured you’d spend a few days without me and come to your senses."

"Fuck that," Roy says, offended. "I’m in this, Jamie. For as long as you'll have me. I fucking hate myself for saying no. I'll come with you everywhere if you let me."

"Fuck, please do," Jamie says, clinging to him. "You're not gonna dump me once the season starts?"

"Why the fuck would I do that?"

"Dunno. Ethics or summat." He flaps a hand between them. "Manager and player."

"I'd sooner resign," Roy says, and that seems to be what hits home with Jamie.

"Fuuuck," Jamie says, grinding down into him. "Alright, I need you inside me now. Get these off, c'mon."

Roy laughs, pulling off his shirt as Jamie yanks at his pants and trousers. "Eager," he teases, as if his own cock isn't straining up and resting against his abdomen. When Jamie settles back over him, straddling his legs, he lets his hands fit around the curves of Jamie's arse, fingers slipping inside the thin briefs to tease at his hole. "D'you have lube? Fucking airport security confiscated mine."

"Do I have lube, he says," Jamie huffs, reaching under the pillow next to Roy's head and pulling out a decently sized bottle. "You gotta check that shit, babe. Liquids rule."

"Yeah, well, I didn't exactly plan this trip in advance," Roy says, taking the bottle from him. Jamie just grins dopily at him as he slicks up his fingers.

He pulls Jamie into a kiss as he works him open. Truthfully, he doesn't need much prep, but Roy indulges himself, taking his time and enjoying Jamie's weight and Jamie's mouth on him.

Finally, Jamie's patience runs thin, and he pulls back. After he slicks up Roy's cock, he follows Roy's lead, pulling his briefs out of the way without taking them off. "I'm gonna ride you now," he says, lining up Roy's cock with his hole and sinking down.

Fuck, his body feels like heaven. Roy reaches out to help him balance as he slowly works himself down, taking more of Roy's cock with every roll of his hips.

"Been fingering myself every night, thinking of you. How I'd climb on top of you as soon as I got home and sink down on your cock."

"Fucking perfect," Roy rasps, fighting not to thrust his hips up until Jamie is ready.

"Mm, yeah, that's my line," Jamie says, lifting up a bit and then sinking down to take all of Roy's dick in one smooth motion.

Roy takes a second to remember how to breathe while Jamie rocks his hips a bit, head tipped back in pleasure. He's a fucking vision on top of Roy, the kit fitting him better than it ever fit Roy, and his dick straining against the thin fabric of his briefs, leaving a significant wet spot at the tip. "You're so fucking gorgeous."

Jamie hums, tilting his head forward again and leaning down to spread his fingers through Roy's chest hair. He shifts his weight there and lifts up, letting Roy's cock slip out inch by inch before he sinks back down firmly, moaning as he's filled up again.

"Fuck," Jamie bites out, working up a bouncing rhythm, and Roy starts snapping his hips, meeting him thrust for thrust. He echoes his own fuck back at Jamie as they move together, bodies moving hard and fast to make up for the time they missed being apart.

A thrill shoots through him every time he pulls a noise from Jamie. It's something more nuanced than pleasure, an undeniable fondness alongside his arousal that just punches everything up. It's a bit ridiculous, how deep they are in this in less than a month—how deep Roy is, at least—but in a way they've been building to it the entire time they've known each other.

"Baby," he finds himself whining, clinging to Jamie's hips and thrusting into him in an unstoppable rhythm, "I wanna feel you come on my cock."

"Oh fuck, yeah," Jamie says, working his hand harder over his cock as he bears down on Roy. He shifts his weight and cries out, "Right there, fuck, I'm so fucking close."

Roy feels his own orgasm pressing in on him, and this time he doesn't shy away from the pleasure, doesn't hold himself back. He lets himself feel every bit of what Jamie is giving him, pleasure scorching through his entire body and centering on his cock, which starts twitching inside of Jamie just as Jamie murmurs Roy's name reverently and comes over the waistband of his pants. The clutch of him is enough to have Roy bucking his hips, losing control as the intensity of it all overwhelms him. Jamie never falters, moving with him and holding him inside until he starts to come down from his own shuddering orgasm.

They stay tangled up in each other, just breathing, for several long minutes. Eventually, Jamie shifts enough to bring their lips together, and they settle into a sweet, lazy kiss that warms Roy to his toes.

"I take it back," Jamie murmurs with a glint in his eye. "Maybe it's okay if we have a few days apart, if getting back together means we're that hot for each other."

Roy narrows his eyes. "If that's what you're after, no need to spend time apart. I just won't let you come for a few days, until you're properly begging. You'll see what a little patience does for you in the end."

"Fuck, that sounds awful and amazing. Let's do it."

"Not on this trip," Roy says. He needs to have Jamie every possible way he can before they have to go back home and kick off the pre-season.

"No, not this trip," Jamie agrees, smirking, but Roy ruins the moment by yawning. Jamie chuckles. "What time did you leave the house this morning?"

"Fucking 5 AM," Roy grouses. "I could've gotten on one flight earlier but our orchid was finally ready to repot. I had to get it situated before I left."

Jamie's eyes shine at Roy like he's just said the most romantic thing Jamie's ever heard.

"What?" Roy says anxiously, his heart skipping a beat.

"Nothin'," Jamie assures him, kissing him again, a bit deeper but no less sweet. When he pulls away, he brushes his thumb along Roy's cheekbone. "You should get some of that beauty sleep you missed out on last night. But maybe tonight, you'll let me take you out? There's a brilliant steakhouse not far from here."

Roy takes Jamie's hand and presses a kiss to his palm before stretching up to kiss his forehead. "Wherever you want to go," he says honestly. Any time spent with Jamie really is his favorite thing.

THE END