Chapter Text
Waiting on Roy’s doorstep for what might be a date was bizarre.
Though it might not be a date. Did he want to go on a date with Roy? Jamie could acknowledge that at least. Fuck yes. Afterall, everyone had that person they’d be gay for, right? Dani had Zava. Jamie had Roy Kent. Though Jamie should probably be honest with the mental record at least. He was gay for a lot more than Roy. But he would remotely consider telling someone for Roy.
Jamie thought beers the other week might have been a date then all the shit with Keeley happened. Though laughing over the kebabs after had been the most fun Jamie’d had in ages.
But he’d never even told Roy he liked men. So, it couldn’t be a date. Right?
Which still left him standing at his coach’s door at 7pm sharp (fuck if he was going to run on his break), invited to supper for unknown reasons.
Roy answering the door in an apron was just the final nail in the coffin of Jamie’s sanity.
“Are you coming in or are you just going to stand there like an idiot?” Roy’s voice knocked some of the static loose and Jamie was able to gather the brain cells to follow him inside – towards a very fragrant kitchen.
Jamie hovered awkwardly on the outskirts, taking in the chaos. Roy moved efficiently in the middle of it, ferrying dishes from one surface to another and checking something bubbling on the hob.
The apron had Phoebe’s influence written all over it. Only she could get Roy to wear something with brightly coloured fruit and vegetable smiley faces all over it. Jamie made a mental note to get her a really good souvenir from Brazil.
The biggest shock was how comfortable Roy looked; in his element in a way Jamie had only seen him on the pitch. But here there was none of the anger, just the calm certainty that this would go his way. It was devastating.
“Oi, sit.” Roy gestured with a spatula at the kitchen table, set simply for two. “And open the wine for us.”
“Er, Coach, you know I don’t really like wine—”
“It’s a Riesling. It’s a bit sweet. You’ll like it. Beer doesn’t go with the chicken.”
With a mental shrug, Jamie did as instructed.
He did like it. But there was no way he was going to let Roy know. The twat was too smug already.
“Coach, why are you doing all this?” he tried to lean nonchalantly against the counter after handing Roy his glass, but his muscles clenched with uncertainty.
“You invited me out, remember?”
Smug and annoying twat.
“Yeah, well, figured we needed a do over on that last one. Didn’t mean for you to cook and shit.”
A grunt met that. Jamie couldn’t quite interpret it, though he liked to joke to the lads that he was fluent in Roy grunt language.
Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, Jamie forced out, “Is this a date or something?”
Setting down his spatula, Roy turned and took a step towards Jamie. “Do you want it to be?”
Fuck. Jamie’d had the full force of Roy’s attention on him many times, but this felt deeper. The intensity in his eyes wasn’t rage for once but was somehow more frightening.
But just as the usual rage made Jamie want to fight and meet Roy on the same level, this drew him in. He could fucking drown there, losing all oxygen to his brain as the darkness overtook him.
“Maybe.” Breathe. “Yeah.”
With a growl, Roy stepped into Jamie’s space, forcing his chin up until their lips met.
And fuck, Roy was good at kissing.
Jamie fisted his hands in Roy’s shirt, dragging them even closer together, strong bodies joined from groin to chest. The hard points of Roy’s finger dug into his shoulders, a sharp contrast to the gentle but strong movement of his lips.
Want overwhelmed Jamie’s senses. It had been so long since he last had this. Beautiful, petite girls were fun, but the feel of a strong, broad chest, the hard line of a cock pushing against him, the lack of delicacy was fierce and hot.
Though, he’d never had this. He’d never been able to let go like this.
Roy could meet him, strength and intensity, but instinctively he knew this was safe.
Head spinning – from lust, desire, and just plain lack of oxygen – Jamie drew back. They panted into each other’s mouths, foreheads resting together.
“Yeah,” Jamie’s voice was rough, “This is a date.”
“Fucking finally,” Roy growled before capturing Jamie’s mouth again.
Hands pulled at his shirt, teasing to get to skin and clinging where any purchase was found.
Cock aching, Jamie thrust against the firm line of Roy’s hip, starbursts flashing across his vision when the rough seems caught on sensitive flesh, the fine line of pain and pleasure sparking.
His whine of frustration was cut off when Roy’s question fingers Roy’s question fingers brushed the head of his cock. Chasing the fingers until he was rutting into Roy’s hand, Jamie let his body lead the action.
His fingers scrambled at Roy’s trousers, making some progress on the buttons, but not enough.
The whine he let out had Roy gripping him more tightly, dragging until Jamie was practically on his toes, chasing the sensation.
“Roy,” Jamie gasped, “Need—fuck—need more.” He pulled Roy in as best he could, limbs uncoordinated, gasping out the words between kisses.
“Fuck!” The expletive was muffled into Jamie’s neck when he finally got a hand down Roy’s pants.
The floor dropped in Jamie’s stomach as Roy wrenched himself away. Had he read this wrong? He wasn’t sure how he could have with the general everything, but the mountain of dread made itself known.
Then Roy was yanking the colourful apron off and shoving his trousers and pants down, before crowding into Jamie again.
A hot look burned in his eyes, like Jamie was the penalty that just needed the right kick to score.
Belatedly, Jamie fumbled at his own clothes, not managing to get any more flesh exposed than Roy, but it was enough.
Their erections rubbed together without the barrier of cloth, sending sparks up Jamie’s spine.
He moaned into Roy’s hair, the other man’s mouth back burrowed in Jamie’s neck, sucking hot kisses up the length.
Jamie gasped when Roy’s hand wrapped around both of them, pressing their cocks together in the most delicious friction. At the first drag of his hand, Jamie’s gasps turned into moans. It was too dry and bordered on too painful, but there was no way he was going to stop it now.
He dug his fingers into Roy’s back, trying to find purchase over his shirt.
“Fuck, Roy, need it. So fucking good. Wanted you for ages. Oh shit, right there.” Without anything to do, Jamie’s mouth was running away from his brain. He struggled to get himself under control, but when Roy bit his shoulder and growled, it was done. “Yes, oh fuck, please please, want you to fuck me. Feel you all over. Been dreaming about this for fucking ever. Shit—yes!”
He came all over Roy’s fist and cock, brain buzzing and blank.
Roy was huffing as he came back to his senses, the over stimulation clearing his brain a bit faster.
Just when he thought he would need to make him stop, Roy came with a grunt that sounded suspiciously like, “Fuck, Jamie.”
The present swam into focus again, the reality of coming off an orgasm pressed against Roy Kent its own high, sending a thrill though Jamie’s brain. His body felt loose and settled for the first time in ages.
“Fucking hell, that was even hotter than I dreamed of as a lad.”
-
The meal was fantastic, though Roy tutted about the vegetables in curry being over cooked. Jamie still ate it gladly and didn’t even try to make any mushy pea jibes at Roy.
Despite the earlier activities, it took until dessert for Jamie to muster up the courage to ask, “How did you even know I liked guys?”
Roy stared at him for an unnervingly long time. (No wonder he got along with Coach Beard, they both preferred to communicate with their fucking eyebrows or some shit.) When he finally spoke, it startled Jamie, “I didn’t know for sure. But you seemed the type.”
“The type?!” Jamie wasn’t pleased with how high his voice got, but the fucking nerve. “What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?”
In a surprisingly soft gesture, Roy reached out to stroke Jamie’s hand resting on the table.
Jamie snatched it back, glaring at Roy until he sighed.
“Not like that you twat. It’s like—like you were trying to see how well you were hiding. Calculated.” He shook his head with a tiny Roy Kent smile. “I’m pretty fucking familiar with what you do when you want to avoid people knowing.”
Mollified, Jamie relaxed, foot nudging against Roy’s under the table. Roy nudged back until it was a war to see who could trap the other person’s leg.
A particularly enthusiastic kick from one of them knocked the table, rattling the wine glasses and sending Roy diving to rescue them.
“Come on, if you’re done, clean up your plate.” Roy gestured from the table to the sink.
“What, going to make me do the washing up? Want me wearing a filly little maid’s uniform too?”
“Only if you want to.”
The husky growl and glittering darkness in Roy’s eyes stole any retort from Jamie’s throat. He stood, frozen, by the sink with a plate in each hand, trying to remember words.
Roy crowded in, setting the glasses down before taking the plates one at a time, very deliberately placing them on the counter. His arms trapping Jamie in, Roy spoke, “I want to know,” his face hovered dizzyingly close, “Exactly what you want.”
At a loss of what else to do with his empty hands, Jamie let them rest on Roy’s shoulders, anchoring them together. Their breaths mingled. “Fuck, I want everything,” Jamie gasped into Roy’s mouth.
This kiss was somehow even better than the previous ones. He caught the faint traces of mango on Roy’s tongue as it plundered his mouth and he moaned at the way his lip was tugged; the pressure too much for just a moment before being released. Hands pulled him forward by the hips, trapping his rapidly hardening cock between their bodies.
“Oh, fuck me.”
“I intend to,” Roy chuckled, “Bed though. Upstairs”
Jamie stumbled into motion when Roy stepped away, dragged along by the waist of his trousers – not that he would have done anything other than follow.
--
It took him a full two days to work up his nerve to do it once he got back to the club house after Brazil and the short holiday he allowed himself.
Jamie poked his head into the boot room, checking that the coast was clear of everyone but Will, who looked up on his arrival.
“Hey, Jamie. Can I help you with something?”
“Uh, sort of. Do you have a minute?”
“Sure! Folding towels solo is boring.”
“Oh, I could help?”
“No no, you’ll do it wrong. Just entertain me and tell whatever it was that you wanted.” Will flapped the half-folded towel in both dismissal of the help, and directing Jamie over to a nearby bench.
He perched awkwardly, a little put out by the suggestion that he couldn’t fold a towel, but also relieved not to have to do so.
“So, uh, I just wanted to apologise, right? For being a bit of a prick last time. I know you don’t tell all the stuff you hear.
Will smiled and opened his mouth to respond, but Jamie stopped him with a rushed, “Wait let me get this all out. And yeah, I am bi too. Just never told anyone, right? Football and all? But wanted you to know ‘cause you were honest with me. That picture—both of them were fucking fit, well done.”
“So it was a date with Roy!” Will crowed triumphantly.
“Keep it down you twat! And it wasn’t—I mean not completely—Yeah, it was.” Fuck, he was probably blushing based on the look on Will’s face. He shouldn’t be capable of blushing. He was Jamie fucking Tartt.
“This is fucking awesome! Do you want to join our Richmond’s gays group chat?”
“Gay group chat?”
Will was vibrating excitedly. “Yeah! Well, I mean, technically it’s the chat for all the queer people here, but Colin pointed out Gay Group sounded better as a name.”
“Who else is in it?” Jamie asked cautiously. It couldn’t be this easy. Not that he wanted to come out to more people. He shouldn’t join. It was still risky.
“Mostly it’s just me, Colin, Trent, and Keeley of course. We tried to get Roy to join but he just did that glaring thing.”
“Yeah, I know the one.”
“Of course you do.” Will had the nerve to waggle his eyebrows. Neat trick. Cheeky little sod.
Before Jamie could say anything Will continued, still breathy, “Technically Beard’s there too, but he never says anything. He comes with us to Kenneth’s drag shows though!”
“Kenneth. The bus driver, Kenneth?”
“Yup.”
“Fuck me. Is everyone fuck gay here?”