Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jamie didn’t technically live with Roy. All of the things that really mattered to Jamie stayed at Roy’s house, in the guest room that was really just Jamie’s room at this point. his stupid stuffed shark stayed on the bed and the army man that Ted gave him sat on the windowsill. It wasn’t like Roy was keeping him hostage or anything, the muppet was free to go back to his own fucking house whenever he liked. Jamie just preferred to be around Roy, for whatever fucking reason. So, Jamie basically lived with Roy, and that was how the whole fucking mess started.

Because Jamie basically living with Roy meant that Roy picked up on a few things about Jamie. He didn’t like mint toothpaste, but he refused to use any other flavour despite Roy having plenty of strawberry spiderman toothpaste on hand thanks to Phoebe. He wouldn’t use the dishwasher, preferring to handwash all of his dishes because he “didn’t trust it to clean fuck all” in his own words. And, most relevant, Jamie barely fucking slept.

Roy is kind of old. Not as old as Jamie likes to crow about him being, he’s not got any grey hair or shit like that, but he’s self-aware enough to admit that he’s not the same knobhead 21-year-old he once was who stayed up until two in the morning just because he fucking could. He was older now and knew that doing that shit is stupid. Sleep was just as important as fucking eating. He wakes up early, he knows the importance of a good night’s rest, it’s common fucking sense. So maybe it shouldn’t surprise him that Jamie didn’t do any of that.

No, instead Jamie was up and about at all hours of the fucking night. clambering around in the kitchen quietly after a drink or snack, or watching shitty free to air tv programs. On the few occasions Roy wakes up at an ungodly hour for no reason at all and decides to go for a wander around his house, because it’s his house and he can do what he fucking likes in it, he would usually find Jamie awake in his room with the light still on, scrolling mindlessly through his phone.

It wouldn’t be a problem, except for the fact that Jamie kept falling asleep fucking everywhere. at home, in the car, on the bus to games and back, during team meditation or movie nights. If Jamie sat still for more than five fucking minutes, he’d be out. It was never a deep sleep, Roy would usually watch him shake himself out of whatever light doze he’d fallen into within minutes, but it wasn’t hard to tell that Jamie was fucking tired.

It was probably Roy’s fucking fault. You see, it was probably Roy’s fucking fault, because he had stupidly assumed that Jamie had enough common sense to realise that waking up at four in the morning meant he would need to be going to bed earlier in the night unless he wanted to be running on fumes. It was on him for thinking the little prick would behave in a normal or reasonable way about anything, he should’ve known better. So, now Roy had to fucking do something about it.

The obvious solution was to stop the four am training. Jamie clearly wasn’t able to keep up with it anymore, and it wasn’t like he needed it. There was no Zava to be better than, and Jamie was brilliant enough without any extra handholding, but Roy knew for a fucking fact Jamie would never go for it. Even if Roy stopped showing up to train him, Jamie would run the circuits by himself just to be spiteful. On top of that, Jamie would absolutely take Roy stopping training as a sign of rejection, which would be another, much more complicated mess for Roy to try and manage. Which led Roy to the other, just as obvious solution, which was that Jamie needed a fucking curfew.

The problem would be getting Jamie to actually adhere to it. Roy got away with bossing Jamie around in a lot of ways, either because Jamie simply didn’t care enough to protest or because it was something he didn’t want to make decisions about, but there were a few things that would raise Jamie’s hackles and have him hissing and spitting at Roy like a feral fucking cat. Most implications that he needed looking after fell into that category. It was a good thing that Roy had somehow become well versed in caring about Jamie whether the twat liked it or not in recent years.

“You’re going to bed at 9 o’clock from now on.” Roy said simply when they were sat on the couch together after training one day. Jamie was absorbed in a game on his switch, not paying any attention at all to Roy, who was sat beside him reading a book, while he kicked his feet mindlessly. Roy didn’t leave it up for the discussion, his tone brokering no room for argument as he made the announcement. That obviously didn’t stop Jamie, who snapped back to attention like a rubber band.

“No, the fuck I’m not.” he said incredulously, laughing like he thought Roy was just fucking with him and not being deadly serious as his switch feel to the wayside. When he took in Roy’s face and realised just how much Roy was not fucking with him, his brow was scrunched and his mouth twisted in outrage at the very idea of going to bed at a reasonable time.

“Yes, the fuck you are.” Roy replied gruffly. Firm but not aggressive, because he wasn’t trying to set Jamie off. “If you want to keep doing extra training, you start going to bed at 9 o’clock.”

“look, Roy, I know you’re going senile in your old age, but I’m not Phoebe.” Jamie replied, gesturing broadly with his hands at himself as if to demonstrate that he truly wasn’t Roy’s 9-year-old niece. Considering Jamie was sat on Roy’s couch playing animal crossing, kicking his feet in mismatched socks, it wasn’t a very good point. “I don’t need an early fucking bedtime. What’s that even got to do with training?”

Roy took a deep breath and counted to ten in his head, because snapping at Jamie for being an idiot wasn’t the way to get through to him. Even if he was a massive fucking idiot.

“It’s got everything to do with fucking training you prick,” Roy replied, and as patiently as Roy was physically capable of being explained, “You wake up at 3:30 in the morning, if you go to bed at fucking midnight, you are barely getting three hours of sleep. You are supposed to be getting ten hours of sleep, because you’re a twenty-four-year-old idiot whose brain isn’t fully developed yet, the only reason I’m telling you 9pm instead of fucking 6pm is because I’m being nice.”

“so what? If I wanna keep training I gotta put myself to bed at 9pm like I’m a fucking primary schooler?” Jamie whined; lips pulled up in disgust at the thought.

“Yes, that is exactly what you’re going to do.” Roy confirmed, setting his book aside to look Jamie in the eyes and make it very fucking clear that he meant it. Jamie pulled a face, eyeing Roy sceptically.

“and if I don’t?” He asked, voice carefully flippant and Roy could see the gears turning in his mind, weighing the risk and the reward of not doing as he’s told the fucking twat.

“then we don’t train.” Roy said “and I make you go to fucking bed.”

Roy watched Jamie do the mental gymnastics, trying to figure out how serious Roy was about his threat. Whatever conclusion Jamie came too, it had him pulling yet another face and mumbling under his breath about everything being fucking stupid.

“You don’t have another choice.” Roy said evenly, the same way he’d tell Phoebe that she wasn’t getting any ice cream before bed or that she couldn’t try jumping into the pool from her trampoline because that was a stupid fucking idea. “You either go to bed on time, or we stop training. It’s your choice.”

Jamie looked mutinous about it, and for a second Roy thought he might throw a fit about it. It wouldn’t be the first time Jamie made a tit of himself to try and get his way. Instead, Jamie scowled at the ground for a while, arms crossed over his chest and radiating pissiness in droves while he refused to look at Roy.

“fucking fine,” he said eventually, drawing it out like it pained him to say, putting on a theatrical show of rolling his eyes and admitting defeat. “I’ll go to bed earlier and we’ll keep training.”

and Roy knew a lie when he fucking heard one.

The rest of the day passed lazily. Jamie focused on gathering resources on his island while Roy did whatever it was grumpy old twats did for fun. Read, mostly, from what Jamie could gather. At some point, Roy had stood up and disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Jamie on his own in the living room to make dinner.

Jamie tried not to dwell much on the conversation they had. Jamie had never had a bedtime before in his life. Certainly not when he was growing up with his mummy, who was still a teenager when Jamie came along and had no idea what she was doing for the better part of his childhood. By the time his mum really got good at all that mum shit, Jamie had grown out of needing a bedtime, so it was just never something he had. Which was fine, because Jamie had always been a livewire of a person.

He hated sitting still, hated laying in the quiet dark of his room counting fake fucking sheep in his mind while he stared at the chipped paint of the ceiling, wide awake and alone, suffocating from the boredom of it all. He always stayed up as long as he could, just to avoid it, playing games under the covers or watching cartoons on the couch while he waited for his mummy to get back from a night shift so he could at least sleep in her room with her, instead of all alone in his.

Which is why Jamie thought Roy was overreacting with the whole 9pm bedtime shit. So what if he didn’t get a solid ten hours every night? he got enough to function just fine with a quick powernap here and there, and he always got enough sleep on match days. It wasn’t like he was going to pass out from exhaustion or anything, he was sleeping. But Roy had this look on his face, one that told Jamie he was going to be a stubborn twat about it all. So, Jamie had agreed just to get the hairy bastard off his back about it and promptly did his best to forget the entire conversation had taken place.

For the most part, he succeeded, laser focused on collecting a bunch of rocks so he could make a stone table for one of his villagers. He stays on the couch while Roy cooks, wriggling around from time to time just for the sake of moving until Roy re-enters the living room and takes his switch right from his hands.

“Oi, I was playing that!” Jamie cried, trying to snatch it back, but Roy was already shutting the game off and putting the console away next to Phoebes on the dock.

“You’re going to rot your fucking eyes if you keep looking at that shit all night.” Roy said, giving Jamie that furrowed eyebrow unimpressed look he always used when he thought Jamie was being a brat about something. Jamie stuck his tongue out at him in response, receiving an eyeroll and grumbled “get up, dinners ready.”

Jamie huffed, rolling off the couch and following Roy out of the living room and into the kitchen where the table was indeed already set for dinner, two plates of spaghetti sat at their respective spots. This was another thing Jamie never had growing up.

His mum would always cook dinner but they never got to eat together. More often than not Jamie would be left with instructions on how to reheat whatever his mum had made in the microwave and would eat by himself in front of the telly while she was off at work. Even more often than that, Jamie would get distracted playing football in the street and forget to eat entirely.

The first time Jamie had stayed for dinner with Roy, he hadn’t really known what to do with himself. It wasn’t the first time he’d ever eaten with Roy, far from it, but it was a quiet, domestic kind of feeling that Jamie had never been privy to before, and it had made him fidgety and nervous until Roy had snapped at him to calm the fuck down and eat his risotto. It had become a common enough occurrence that it no longer felt surreal to him, to sit at a table with Roy and eat dinner together while they talked about their day or a show or fucking anything really.

After dinner, Jamie washed the dishes. It was their little routine, Roy would cook and Jamie would wash up, and Roy would grumble about how he had a fucking dishwasher and Jamie would complain that the dishwasher wouldn’t clean it right. Once Jamie was finsihed washing up, they’d both return to the living room to do whatever they wanted for the rest of the night. In Jamie’s case, it was trying to beat Sam’s wordle score on his phone while Roy watched bake-off.

Jamie, truthfully, didn’t even notice when 9 o’clock came around at first. It wasn’t like he paid much attention to time when he didn’t have things to be doing. His obliviousness was short lived of course, because Roy was a fucking asshole and took Jamie’s phoen right from his hands, again.

“Roy, mate, we’ve gotta have a talk about your snatching problem,” Jamie huffed, sitting up to try and take his phone back. Roy was messing with it, doing something in his setting that Jamie wasn’t paying much attention too because he was more focused on getting his fucking phone back.

“You don’t need it; you’re going to bed.” Roy told him simply, not looking up from whatever he was doing as he moved out of Jamie’s reach. That was when Jamie realised the time, and also realised just how fucking early 9 o’clock really was.

“Roy, this is insane you know that right?” Jamie asked. He didn’t want to go to fucking bed now, they’d only had dinner a couple of hours ago for fucks sake. “it’s barely night time!”

“There’s nothing insane about taking care of yourself you fucking muppet.” Roy replied with an exasperated roll of his eyes, seemingly done with Jamie’s phone as he dropped it back on the couch cushion. Jamie huffed, picking it back up and shoving it in his hoodie pocket.

“I’m not doing it.” Jamie mumbled, folding his arms over his chest and sinking further into the couch. He knew he was pouting, but it wasn’t fucking fair. He bet Sam or Colin or fucking Dani didn’t have to go to bed at 9 o’clock like fucking children. Then suddenly Roy was in front of Jamie, hands on either side of his face and forcing him to look the other man in the eye as he explained, slowly and seriously.

“Jamie, you need to sleep. What you’re doing right now isn’t sustainable, and it’s going to hurt you in the long run, so for the love of god, go upstairs, put your fucking pyjamas on, brush your fucking teeth, and go to fucking sleep or I will make you.”

Roy was earnestly concerned, in his own vaguely aggressive way and Jamie heaved a put-upon sigh. No one had warned Jamie that people caring about him could be so fucking annoying sometimes.

“this is so fucking stupid,” Jamie grumbled, but he extracted himself from Roy’s hands and headed towards the stairs. Roy grunted in response from his place on the couch, a little noise of approval at Jamie for doing as he was told. Which didn’t make Jamie feel warm or something at all, thank you very much.

Jamie got ready for bed the same way one might go about getting ready for their own execution. He really did hate going to sleep. It was always such a fucking hassle; it was much easier to just stay up until he couldn’t physically keep his eyes open anymore. At least then his mind wouldn’t have time to race and he wouldn’t have to sit eerie, unending silence counting made up fucking sheep to pass the time.

He chucked his phone on the bed, got changed into his pyjamas at a snail’s pace, took extra time to brush his teeth, making sure he got each individual one in a way he’s sure would make a dentist weep with joy. All the while he could hear Roy downstairs, bake-off still playing because of course he got to stay awake, the hypocritical twat. Jamie didn’t see how that was fucking fair, Roy bossing Jamie to bed when he woke up just as early. Why did he get to stay up watching fucking bake-off?

Well fuck him, Jamie decided flopping onto his bed and snatching his phone up. Roy wouldn’t know if Jamie was actually sleeping or not as long as he stayed up in his room. He could play wordle all he liked and Roy would be none the wiser. Except apparently Roy had anticipated Jamie’s little fit about having to go to sleep, because when Jamie opened his phone it was all locked with parental fucking controls.

Jamie was up and out of his room before he could even think about it, racing down the stairs to where Roy was still sat on the couch looking like a smug bastard.

“You are such a fucking arsehole!” Jamie exclaimed, with half a mind to chuck his useless fucking phone at the twat’s head.

“You’re supposed to be in bed.” was all Roy said in response, turning to raise an unimpressed eyebrow at Jamie like he was the one in trouble here.

“why’d you put fucking parental locks on my phone you twat,” Jamie demanded, outraged as he shoved his phone into Roy’s hand to show him the damage he’d done. Roy rolled his eyes at him, as if Jamie were a little kid throwing a tantrum.

“because I don’t trust you to leave it the fuck alone and go to sleep.” Roy replied, setting the phone aside “You wouldn’t have noticed them if you’d done as you were told and just gone to fucking bed.”

“I don’t want too,” Jamie whined. “it’s too fucking early to go to bed Roy!”

“no, it’s not.” Roy replied, standing up and brushing some invisible dirt off of his clothes. He left Jamie’s phone on the couch cushions, not that it fucking mattered since it were useless to Jamie with the stupid locks on it anyway. For one hopeful moment, Jamie thought Roy might’ve changed his mind about this bedtime shit, but then Roy was leading Jamie back up the stairs to his room with a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“why do you get to stay up?” Jamie griped “you wake up just as early as I do!”

“I’m not,” Roy replied, and Jamie could hear the amusement in his voice, because of course Jamie being put out was amusing to Roy “I was finishing that episode and then I was coming up to bed.”

“how come I didn’t get to finish the episode?” Jamie asked petulantly, he briefly entertained the idea of just stopping in the middle of the hallway and refusing to move, but he suspected Roy would pick him up and carry him if he really decided to be obstinate.

“because you go to bed at 9 o’clock, like we fucking agreed this morning.” Roy retorted.

“I didn’t agree to shit.” Jamie grumbled, even though he absolutely had agreed to it.

“Yes, you fucking did you absolute dickhead.” Roy said, bemused as he steered Jamie through the doorway of his room. Once they were past the threshold, Roy stepped away from Jamie to pull back the comforter on the bed before snapping his fingers and pointing at the mattress like Jamie was a fucking dog. When Jamie didn’t move, Roy scowled at him all serious and stern “I’m serious Jamie, if you want to keep doing extra training, you have to start taking care of yourself. get in the fucking bed.”

“this is fucking stupid.” Jamie complained, reluctantly getting in the fucking bed just like he was asked. Roy grunted, rolling his eyes as he pulled the covers back over Jamie. Jamie’s face burned, when he realised Roy was tucking him in.

“You’ve said that.” Roy grumbled as he passed Jamie blahaj from where the stuffed shark was half buried amongst the pillows. “go to fucking sleep.”

“I’m not tired,” Jamie said, but Roy didn’t grant him a response as he left the room, flicking the lights off and shutting the door softly behind him, leaving Jamie alone in the quiet darkness of the room. Jamie listened as Roy’s footsteps retreated back down the steps, and as fucking bake-off started playing again. Jamie covered his face with Blahaj and quietly screamed into the shark’s soft fur. He fucking hated bedtime.

Roy expects it when Jamie marches back down the stairs for a second time, this time with his shark in hand. It wasn’t anything Roy wasn’t used too. Phoebe had gone through a phase of refusing to stay in bed for a while too, insisting that she was simply not tired enough to sleep and coming up with any excuse to crawl out of bed. Jamie, despite his insistence that he wasn’t Phoebe, acted just fucking like her.

“Go back to bed,” Roy groused, when Jamie’s feet hit the floor after the final step.

“relax grandad, I’m just getting some water,” Jamie grumbled, rubbing at his eyes despite the fact he had previously been complaining about not being tired. He moved about the kitchen slowly, rifling through Roy’s cabinets and pouring himself a glass of water from the chug in the fridge as if he were possessed by a particularly slow snail. Roy, of course, knew what he was doing.

“put it in a water bottle and go back upstairs.” Roy ordered, standing from the couch and switching off the tv to join Jamie in the kitchen. Jamie crinkled his nose, put out that Roy had caught onto his trick.

“I’m not doing nothing,” he whined, setting the mostly full glass down on the island. one hand was twisting at the fabric of his shirt, the other stroking absently at the shark’s fur.

“you’re wasting fucking time because you don’t want to go to sleep.” Roy said, arms folded across his chest.

“told you already ‘m not tired,” Jamie replied petulantly. Roy sighed. Jamie was tired, he was shuffling his feet when he walked and taking slow, deliberate blinks like he was trying to keep his eyes open, but Roy wouldn’t be surprised if the twat didn’t realise it.

“I don’t care,” Roy replied, taking the glass and opening a different cabinet where he kept the myriad of spare water bottles, he’d collected over the years. He tipped Jamie’s water into the first one he grabbed. It used to be Phoebe’s, and they had gotten in from an aquarium so it was decorated with dolphins and whales and shit like that. It was obviously for kids, but Jamie was going to have to get the fuck over it because Roy was not patient enough to go digging through the cupboards for a Tartt-Approved water bottle. “you’re going to bed.”

“I’m not sleeping.” Jamie said, crossing his own arms and glaring at Roy. It was about as effective as having a puppy glare at you, Jamie’s eyes too earnest and wide to be anything close to intimidating.

“then you can just fucking lay there.” Roy told him, passing him the water bottle and sending him back on his way at the stairs, Jamie making irritated little noises at his failed attempt of getting out of sleeping the entire way. Roy waited to hear the door shut again before he decided to start tidying up and getting ready for bed himself.

Roy had a system to going to sleep. A routine he’d perfected and adjusted as years came and went. He would go tidy up any mess downstairs, clean up stray dishes and make sure any left overs were put away, closing the blinds, making sure all the lights were off and doors were locked. Then, he’d go upstairs and do the same thing. Close the blinds and turn the lights out, tidy up Phoebes room if she’d been there that day and left it in a state. Once that was all done, he’d shower if he hadn’t already that day, clean his teeth, and get into bed. Sometimes, if he wasn’t feeling particularly tired, he’d read a book for a bit.

Routine was important to Roy, it always had been. He liked to do things certain ways, found it made the unbearable act of being alive slightly less unbearable. Jamie did well on routines as well, despite the pricks inabiltiy to recognise this fact. Jamie liked knowing what he was supposed to do and when he was supposed to do it. It was why Jamie thrived under Roy’s coaching, it was why he was so insistent that they continue 4am training when he hadn’t needed it for months. Getting Jamie to sleep would be the same.

All Roy needed to do was get him into some kind of routine and it wouldn’t be such a hassle to get the fucking twat to sleep. It would just take time, to settle Jamie into a routine he didn’t think he needed. So Roy wasn’t surprised when he made his way upstairs after finsihing his usual tasks and found Jamie up again, wandering down the hallway mindlessly.

“Get back in your fucking room.” Roy said, startling Jamie out of the blank faced pacing he had been doing. Immediatley, his brow furrowed and he started to pout.

“I’m not tired!” He whined, tilting his head to the side and leveling Roy with a kicked puppy look like that was going to save him. Roy was immune to that look. Between his sister, Phoebe and Jamie, he’d gotten used to having doe eyes weaponised against him. It didn’t stop Jamie from trying. “Laying there’s fucking boring.”

“if you’re that bored, just go to sleep like your supposed too.” Roy countered, gesturing to Jamie’s room pointedly. Jamie huffed in response, crossing his arms like a little kid. For a moment, Roy thought he was going to stomp his socked foot against the ground to show his displeasure the same way Phoebe used too.

“so fucking unfair,” Jamie grumbled, turning on his heel and marching back into his room. Roy watched him fall face first onto the mattress, not bothering to close the door behind him as he continued swearing colourfully into the sheets. He was lucky Phoebe wasn’t around to hear it, or he’d be sent into debt.

“Go to fucking bed.” Roy said from the doorway, reciving a vitrolic glare in response. Roy rolled his eyes, shutting the door and heading for his own room. He wondered if he’d actually have to keep his word about not doing 4am training, and hoped it didn’t come to that. He didn’t want to deal with Jamie throwing a bitch fit about not being allowed to train on top of him throwing a bitch fit about having to go to bed at a reasonable hour. Roy was in the middle of brushing his teeth when he hears the door to Jamie’s room open again. Stubborn fucking twat.

Jamie’s plan was simple. He was going to sneak downstairs and get his laptop, and then he’d be home free to fuck around on Netflix until he was actually tired, and Roy, the dusty old fart, would be nonethewiser since he was in his room going to bed like the geriatric he was. He waited for Roy’s bedroom door the shut, and for the sound of the faucet running to slip back out of bed and into the hallway.

The house was dark now, because Roy turned all the lights off when he’d come up to bed, so Jamie keeps his hand on the wall as he makes his way down the stairs slowly. He was quiet as he went, tiptoeing across the hardwood floors. The last thing he needed was for Roy to catch on to his plan, because then he’d probably put fucking parental locks on Jamie’s laptop too and then he’d really be fucked.

He didn’t understand how Roy could do it really, just pack everything up and go to sleep the second he decided he wanted too. It was always such a chore for Jamie to try and get himself to sleep, especially if he wasn’t already on the verge of passing out where he stood. It was, in part, why he liked football so much as a kid. Running around on the grass until his lungs burnt and his legs felt like jelly was a good way to soften the hard edges of his energy. Jamie’s only method of getting himself to fall asleep was to run until he dropped.

His laptop was in the kitchen, sat innocently on the island counter where Jamie had left it hours ago. Truthfully, Jamie barely ever used his laptop. Unlike Keeley or Roy who had important work things on theirs like emails and shit, Jamie’s functioned essentially as a portable tv and a way to occasionally play Minecraft with Phoebe. He didn’t even bring it home with him, on the few occasions he ventured back to his own place. It lived permanently at Roy’s, and stayed mostly untouched on the kitchen counter.

Which is why it was the perfect plan. Half the time, Jamie forgot he even had it, Roy probably did too. He’d never suspect Jamie of sneaking out of his room to go down and grab it so he could shrike the stupid bedtime rule. All he had to do was get down the stairs and into the kitchen without getting caught, which Jamie assumed would be easy with Roy off in his own room. Jamie should’ve known better than to fucking think that.

He’s halfway down the stairs when the hallway light flicks back on, scaring the fuck out of Jamie as well as momentarily blinding him as his eyes adjust.

“Jesus fucking- what the hell man?” Jamie bristled, slapping a hand over his eyes to block out the light and thanking whatever powers that be that he had been holding the wall to keep himself from falling down the fucking stairs.

“where do you think your fucking going?” Roy asked, standing at the top of the stairs all frowny with his arms crossed. He was in his pyjamas now, boxers and a ratty old shirt. It was all very domestic in a way that felt foreign to Jamie, to have Roy staring him down all stern like for escaping his room. He never got in trouble this way, the normal way kids did where they’d test their parent’s patience and get a proper scolding for it. His mum wasn’t one for rules and his dad wasn’t one for patience. Jamie never felt safe, breaking rules as a kid. He felt safe now, even with Roy frowning at him all grumpy and serious.

“nowhere.” Jamie grumbled, caught red fucking handed. The least he could do was keep his mouth shut about the laptop, because at least that kept his options open for a second attempt after Roy herded him back to his room again.

“right,” Roy said with the air of someone who absolutely knew he had Jamie cornered, coming down the stairs to stand in front of Jamie, looking at him all appraisingly. Despite the fact Roy had every reason to be annoyed with Jamie, who had gone against a pretty simple instruction four times in less than an hour, he looked nothing but fond if slightly bemused.

He stood in front of Jamie for a bit, pinning him in place with this look. fond exasperation was the best word for it, the same look Roy got when Phoebe would dock him for swearing or go on a longwinded triad about the importance of earthworms to the ecosystem. Jamie squirmed under the gaze, looking anywhere but Roy’s face as he shuffled from foot to foot. Knowing he was safe and seeing it were different.

Eventually, Roy reached a hand out and scratched it through Jamie’s hair gently, which was a dirty fucking trick and Jamie was going to be having words with Keeley about spilling that particular secret. Roy sighed quietly, still giving Jamie that look as he said “what am I gonna do with you?”

“Let me stay up and stop wasting your time?” Jamie suggested with a faux innocent smile, earning an amused scoff from Roy, who tugged lightly on one of the strands of Jamie’s hair. It didn’t hurt or nothing, didn’t even jolt his head. Just a light pressure against his skull the same way squeezing might’ve done.

“Not fucking likely.” Roy grumbled, moving his hand from Jamie’s head to instead take his hand, leading him back up the stairs “you need to sleep. If you would just fucking sit still, you’d be out in five fucking minutes.”

“I would not,” Jamie said indignantly as he was pulled back into his room and man handled back into his bed for Roy to tuck him in for the second time that night. His face was burning, and the entire ordeal was fucking embarrassing but not in a bad way. Embarrassing the same way it was to have everyone sing you happy birthday in a crowded restaurant.

“Yes, you fucking would,” Roy replied with a roll of his eyes “I’ll fucking prove it to you.”

Jamie isn’t actually sure how Roy planned to prove it, but he clearly had something in mind as he left Jamie’s room only to return less than a minute later with a book in hand.

“Move.” Roy demanded quietly, nudging Jamie to the side. Obediently, and mostly because Jamie was really fucking confused about where this was going, he did. Shuffling to the side of the bed and making for room for Roy who made himself comfortable on top of the covers.

“What are you doing?” Jamie questioned as Roy opened the book. It was that one Ted gave him, A Wrinkle in Time. It was clearly a well-loved book, the spine cracked and the cover faded from use.

“I’m going to read to you.” Roy said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world and Jamie was daft for not putting that together “and if you manage to stay awake for more than a chapter, I’ll let you up and you can do whatever the fuck you want for the rest of the night.”

“really?” Jamie asked sceptically. It seemed too easy. Jamie would be able to stay up for a chapter without any problem, especially of a kid’s book. They only had short chapters, from what Jamie understood, to keep munchkins with short attention spans entertained.

“Yes, really.” Roy confirmed, raising a bushy fucking caterpillar eyebrow at Jamie. “now lay down and shut the fuck up.”

and look, Jamie wasn’t one to look horse gifts in the mouth or however the fuck the saying went. So, he laid down without a fuss. Roy didn’t begin reading right away, instead he adjusted the blanket over Jamie’s shoulders and he flicked on the lamp so the room was bathed in soft yellow light. It was still dark, the lamp only bright enough to illuminate the pages as Roy began reading from the pages.

Not many people would describe Roy’s voice as soothing. It was all gravelly, like he’d swallowed glass or something, but Jamie liked it. It reminded him vaguely of smoke, a chaser to the comfort of warmth. Maybe it was because not many people were privy to what Roy sounded like when he was trying to be gentle, rather than growly and intimidating. Jamie was one of those people.

That was strange, but it was nice. He still thought Roy’s bedtime rule was fucking stupid, but being read too was nice. His mum never read to him growing up, too busy and it wasn’t like Jamie was going to be sitting still as a little lad to hear about some made up story when he could’ve been running around with a ball in the yard. He laid still now, listening to Roy tell him about Meg and Charles Wallace. He barely even noticed, when his eyes slipped closed.

Predictably, Jamie fell asleep in less than a fucking minute, once Roy finally managed to corral him into sitting fucking still. The muppet didn’t even notice, when between one blink and the next his breathing evened out and the loose grip he had on the comforter released. Roy stayed where he was, reading on just to make sure Jamie was really asleep before he stood quietly.

Jamie was out like a fucking light, mouth parted a touch as he snored quietly, his stuffed shark squished between his chest and the mattress. It was cute, which was an unfortunate thought for Roy to have. His past self would have a fucking conniption, if he could somehow look forward into the future and see Roy reading Jamie fucking Tartt to sleep and being disgustingly endeared by the twat.

Roy found that he didn’t mind much, because his past self was also a fucking twat and he was better off as he was now, caring about people and shit even if it was mortifying. Jamie was better off for it too.

Casting a final appraising look over Jamie’s sleeping form, to ensure he really was asleep and Roy wouldn’t have to be dragging his stubborn arse back to bed again anytime soon, Roy flicked the lamp off and made his way to the door bidding a quiet “goodnight, you muppet” into the darkness of the room, despite the fact Jamie probably couldn’t hear him.

Now that Jamie was sorted, Roy’s was free to go to sleep. Fucking finally.

Chapter Text

Keeley, as a rule, didn’t involve herself with Roy and Jamie’s RoyandJamieness if she could avoid it. She preferred to observe it, standing on the sidelines as Roy and Jamie did what Roy and Jamie do. It was a bit strange sometimes, that her two ex-boyfriends had gone and unionised and made themselves a little family that loved and cared about each other right under her nose, but mostly she was just happy. Happy they got along, happy they could be there for each other, happy they weren’t getting into fistfights on the pitch anymore even though they still irritated each other beyond belief. Sometimes, she felt like she was one of those wildlife people, who’d follow penguins around the arctic with a camera just watching. She didn’t want to get herself involved and throw off whatever balance nature seemed to have settled on. Sometimes it was just unavoidable though. Like when Roy asked her point blank to get involved.

“I need a favour,” he asked her, when they were at her place having dinner together. Jamie was off with Dani and Sam for the night, so it was just the two of them. Keeley was pretty sure Roy had planned it out that way, because he was going away to some conference next week and wanted some alone time with her before he left. He’d made her a lovely pasta dish she’d forgotten the name of but would be pinching the recipe for.

“Course babe,” she agreed, before he could even ask her what he needed from her. Roy didn’t ask for favours openly often, and the few times he had come to her, they usually pertained to helping him out with Phoebe things he didn’t have the skills or time for, like dutch braids or picking her up from school when no one else was available. Pretty normal stuff. Besides, even if it was something weird or strange, Keeley was a ride or die kind of person. She always had been. If Roy needed her help hiding a body, she’d be disappointed, but she’d still help him. He probably had a halfway decent reason for first degree murder. She twirled some of the pasta onto her fork, preparing for another bite as Roy continued.

“I need you to watch Jamie for me next week.”

Keeley paused, fork halfway to her mouth and effectively forgotten at the request.

“watch Jamie?” she asked, just to make sure she had heard right and wasn’t going insane. “as in our Jamie?”

“what other Jamie do you fucking know?” Roy asked, furrowing his eyebrows at her like she was insane. Keeley mind worked quickly, sorting through every interaction she’d had with Jamie recently. He was happy enough, hair clean and smile genuine the last time they’d gotten the chance to chat at Nelson Road a couple of days ago, but Jamie was good at hiding things when he wanted to be, so maybe Roy knew something she didn’t and was worried.

“well, I dunno,” Keeley replied, feeling her eyebrows pinch in concern, “what do you need me to watch Jamie for? is he alright?”

“He’s fine, he’s a fucking muppet as usual.” Roy replied gruffly, and Keeley felt herself relax at the confirmation that Jamie was indeed fine. “He’s got a curfew; I need you to make sure he actually follows it while I’m gone.”

Keeley gave herself a second to really process what Roy had just said, turning it over in her mind. There weren’t many ways to interpret Jamie has a curfew, it was probably a case of it was exactly as it sounded. Keeley felt the need to clarify anyway.

“You mean like a bedtime?” she asked, pasta all but forgotten now as she set her fork to the side and prepared herself for whatever it was this conversation was going to end up being. At least she could never say dinner with Roy was boring.

“yeah, sure, if that’s what you wanna fucking call it.” Roy said, stabbing at his own food like he didn’t understand the absolute absurdity of what he’d just said. He probably didn’t. “the prick hasn’t been sleeping, I’m handling it. It’s not a thing.”

Keeley couldn’t help it, she started laughing. She wasn’t really sure what part of it was so funny to her, just that it was. Maybe the fact that Roy, well versed in caring for Phoebe, tended to go about caring for Jamie the same way, which led to situations like this. It was cute, and silly, and it made her heart feel all sparkly in her chest, like a lit firework. It also earned her a confused grunt and furrowed brow from Roy.

“I’m sorry,” she replied, a little breathless from her giggling. Roy grumbled in response to let her know he’d heard. “I’m sorry, it’s sweet that you care about him it’s just, babe Jamie’s a grown up. I know he doesn’t act like it all the time, but he’s perfectly capable of getting himself to bed.”

“No, he isn’t.” Roy replied with a roll of his eyes, like he was remembering something particularly irritating, but there was a fondness to it too which let her know he was probably thinking about Jamie being irritating.

“Yes, he is.” Keeley insisted “He was putting himself to bed just fine when me and him were dating.”

“You think so?” Roy asked, and Keeley had to distinct impression she was being set up. She narrowed her eyes at him, waiting for him to continue. “what time was Jamie going to bed back when you were together?”

Keeley hummed, thinking back. It had been a long time, since she really thought about her and Jamie as a couple. He’d always been a bit of a night owl, she remembered. He liked to go dancing, spinning Keeley around in clubs until the late hours of night before they’d stumble back to her place and fall into bed, though they weren’t sleeping then either. Even on the nights they stayed in, just them together watching tv or fooling around, Keeley would fall asleep first, laid up beside a wide-awake Jamie. In fact, thinking back she doesn’t think she ever saw Jamie actually fall asleep. She would just wake up the next morning to him beside her, sometimes awake already and watching her.

“well shit,” She mumbled, and Roy hummed satisfied that his point was proven. Smug bastard.

“Exactly.” he said. One thing that Keeley had found surprising about Roy was his eyes. For someone so rough around the edges, his eyes almost always gave him away. They were brimming with care, even when it was lined with exasperation. “I’m handling it, but I’m not going to be there and he’s a twat. If no one makes him sleep he’s not going too. So, will you watch him?”

“Yeah okay,” Keeley agreed softly, twirling some more pasta around her fork “I’ll watch him.”

Jamie was, to put it lightly, thrilled to be spending the week with Keeley. She’d arrived at Roy’s place not long before he was set to leave for the airport, her own bag in hand packed and prepared for her own stay. When Jamie, who had been quite obviously moping on the couch at the idea of being left alone for an entire week and pointedly ignoring whatever it was Roy had been in the middle of lecturing him about, saw her milling in the kitchen watching with a grin he’d lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Keeley!” He’d cried, all excited and jumping up from the couch to race over to her, picking her up and swinging her around in a tight hug before resting her gently back on her feet. Keeley laughed brightly as she was swept off her feet, literally. “What’re you doing here?”

“If you’d been fucking listening to me, you’d know that wouldn’t you?” Roy grumbled, rolling his eyes and arms crossed over his chest as he meandered over to them looking like a grumpy, cartoon bear. Like the one from brother bear. “She’s staying here this week.”

“What for?” Jamie asked, cocking his head to the side and looking all adorably confused. Keeley glanced at Roy quietly, trying the figure out what exactly she should say. After receiving the smallest headshake in response, she went for an easy lie of omission.

“Gonna keep you company babe,” She replied, returning his sweet smile and petting his cheek lightly. He leaned into the touch, practically melting into her palm. It wasn’t really a lie, because she was going to keep him company, but she felt a bit dirty not telling him she was also there to enforce bedtime on Roy’s behalf while he was out of town.

“Oh,” Jamie said, his voice all tiny and soft the way it got when someone was unexpectedly nice to him. Keeley was going to feel really fucking guilty when 9 o’clock rolled around, she could already feel it. But she’d promised Roy and seeing Jamie up close it wasn’t hard to see why Roy had decided he needed to do this. Even when Jamie was a bouncing ball of energy right in front of her, she could see the fraying edges of tiredness creeping up on him.

“I have to go now.” Roy announced, effectively tearing Jamie’s attention away from Keeley as he pivoted on his heel to pout at Roy again.

“No you don’t,” Jamie said, voice bordering on the edge of a whine. It wasn’t entirely serious; he was mostly just putting on a show but Keeley could feel the undercurrent of genuine upset at Roy leaving there. “why can’t Beard do it?”

“Don’t whinge.” Roy replied gruffly, opening his arms in a silent offer for a hug. Jamie took it, clambering into Roy’s personal space and burrowing himself into Roy’s chest like he belonged there. The way Roy’s arms settled around him like it was what they were made for, Keeley was sure he did. Then quietly into Jamie’s hair, but not quietly enough that Keeley couldn’t hear it, Roy whispered “you’ll be fine with Keeley, be good.”

Jamie mumbled something in reply, voice muffled by the fact his face was hidden in Roy’s shoulder. She thought it might have been fuck off. Then, they were pulling away and it was Keeley’s turn for a cuddle. Roy was deceptively good at hugging, if he was given enough time to actually prepare to hug someone. He didn’t pick her up, the same way Jamie had, but he pulled her close to his side and dropped a sweet kiss to her temple. He didn’t linger though, because he really did need to get going if he didn’t want to miss his flight.

Jamie and Keeley stood at the entryway watching him go as he pulled out of the driveway, Jamie flipping Roy off just for the fun of it as he drove away. Keeley was fairly certain Roy flipped him off right back, but it was hard to tell with the tinted windows on the G-wagon. When Roy was fully out of view, Jamie seemed to deflate. Like he was a balloon, and someone had gone and popped a hole in him. Keeley couldn’t be having a sad Jamie on her watch.

“C’mon babe,” she said, taking him by the hand and leading him away from the door so he wouldn’t keep pouting at Roy’s now empty parking space. They had the rest of the day to do whatever they pleased, neither of them having work until tomorrow and Keeley was determined for it to be fun. “Let’s do something fun, it’ll be like a proper sleepover.”

Jamie, thankfully, perked right back up at Keeley’s suggestion, and the rest of the afternoon was spent watching all the cheesy chick flick movies they possibly could, talking shit about their particularly annoying co-workers and exchanging gossip. It was nice, to just hang out with Jamie. He was wicked funny when he wanted to be, and he and Keeley had always gotten on like a house on fire even before they’d jumped into bed together.

Eventually, they had pulled themselves off the floor where they had settled with a heap of blankets and pillows to watch their movies and get dinner together. Roy, in his infinite wisdom, had apparently done a bunch of meal prep before he’d left so they could just reheat whatever was in the fridge.

“It’s like he thinks I can’t feed my fucking self,” Jamie complained light heartedly as they sat at the table together to eat. Even without Roy there, neither one of them were keen on breaking his sacred no food in the living room rule. He’d find out somehow, and then they’d both be in trouble. Keeley laughed lightly, picking out some of the vegetables in the stir fry. She appreciated Roy’s efforts to hide the things she didn’t like by chopping it extra fine and dousing it in sauces, but she could always sniff them out. Jamie at least didn’t have any reserves about the vegetables he had to eat, and was happily shovelling his portion of their meal into his mouth like he’d been starved.

They both knew Roy didn’t cook for them because he thought they were incapable. Or well, it mostly wasn’t that. Roy probably had a lot to say about Jamie’s ability to feed himself, because Roy had a lot to say about everything, all the time. But for the most part, Roy behaved the way he did because it was how he went about caring for people. He was an actions over words kind of person, had been for as long as any of them had known him and probably a long time before that too.

She and Jamie finished their dinner, and then washed up together. It was a slow-going process, because they both got distracted flicking water at each other and then Keeley had the bright idea to use Roy’s fancy detachable tap to spray Jamie so it turned into an all-out war that had them both sopping wet in the middle of Roy’s kitchen with only half the dishes done. Once they were dry, and the dishes finally done, they traipsed back to the living room to tidy up the mess they had made before settling back on the couch was watch the new survivor rip off that had been made by the same people who made lust conquers all.

Keeley let the easy afternoon lull her into a false sense of security, assuming that Jamie was happy and content enough that when she suggested he head upstairs to get ready for bed he’d go easily. She was wrong. Instead, as 9 o’clock started approaching and Jamie visibly began flagging, his eyes drooping as he tried to stay focused on whatever artificial drama was happening in the screen; when she scratched a gentle pattern over his temple, his head resting on her lap and said. “Maybe you should head up and get ready for bed now babe,” she was met with a downright scandalised look.

An almost comical amount of shock and betrayal danced through Jamie’s eyes as he shifted on the couch to pout up at her.

“Roy told you?” he whined, big ol’ kicked puppy eyes trained directly on her and his ears tinged a little pink. Keeley did her level best not to laugh, not wanting to embarrass him too much because then she’d really never get him to bed at a reasonable hour, and also would probably fuck any progress Roy had made at getting Jamie to bed at a reasonable hour.

“Yeah lovey,” She said with a little amused smile, because well she wasn’t about to lie to him. “he wanted me to make sure you weren’t staying up too late while he was gone.”

Jamie moaned dramatically, shifting again so that his face was hidden in Keeley’s lap. He was lucky she had decent hearing and could understand his muffled voice. She almost giggled, realising that he was flushed right up the back of his neck. Jamie only got red there when he was really embarrassed.

“he got me a fucking babysitter,” he lamented into the fabric of Keeley’s trackpants. “he got me a fucking babysitter like I’m a fucking nine-year-old.”

“he’s given you a bedtime like you’re one too,” Keeley supplied helpfully, because she couldn’t help but tease a little bit. It was in her nature, embarrassing her friends for fun was a love language of hers.

Jamie sprung out of Keeley’s lap suddenly, sitting upright on the other side of the couch and glaring at her with a sullen glare.

“you’re a traitor!” he said, pointing a betrayed finger at her “you lured me here under false pretenders.”

“Pretences,” Keeley corrected automatically, before defending herself against the accusation “and I didn’t lure you anywhere! You live here!”

“You said you were here to keep me company!” Jamie huffed, pout out in full force now as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“and have I not been keeping you company?” she asked, gesturing broadly around her and wiggling her fingers with a mischievous little smile. Jamie turned away from her to pout at a wall instead of answering her. She laughed, scooting across the couch and man handling him until his back was pressed flat against her front. He went easily, because Jamie was a cuddle fiend even when he was actively trying to give someone the silent treatment. He kept the pout up, so she peppered some exaggerated kisses across his cheeks and forehead as she said “I am very, very, very sorry that Roy asked me to babysit you and I didn’t tell you, but I’ve already agreed to do it and you know how he gets. Besides he’s not wrong, you could use the sleep.”

“It’s so stupid,” Jamie complained, though he had a little smile on his face, because his greatest weakness was attention and Keeley was giving him as much as he could handle.

“I don’t think it’s stupid,” Keeley said soothingly as she released him from hug jail, he sinks bonelessly against her, without her there to hold him up. “I think it’s healthy, getting enough sleep is a good thing babe.”

“it’s fucking embarrassing.” he mumbled, flush high on his cheek and refusing to look at her. Keeley laughed, gently shoving him off her lap so she could stand.

“It’s only embarrassing if you’re embarrassed,” She said, offering her hand for him to take “c’mon, upstairs with you.”

“c’mon Keeley,” he pleaded, visibly suppressing a yawn as he continued, “I don’t really need a bedtime, Roy’s just being Roy, can’t you let it go? I won’t tell him if you don’t.”

“Nope,” Keeley replied cheerfully, tapping his nose lightly and taking his hands to drag him up. In response, Jamie decided to become complete dead weight and refuse to move from the pile he was in on the couch, Keeley huffed. “Oi, don’t be a brat. If I have to drag you upstairs I will. I’m not very strong and it might take all night, but it’ll happen.”

“Keeley,” Jamie whined, stretching out her name all long.

“Jamie,” she mocked, stretching his name out too. He rolled his eyes petulantly at her and she laughed, giving his wrists another tug “c’mon, up and I’ll give you a nice surprise before you go to sleep.”

That, at least, piqued Jamie’s interest. He lifted his head up properly from where it had been flopped to the side in his little protest, brow knitted together as he eyed her, curiosity and poorly hidden excitement dancing them.

“What kind of a surprise?” he asked, and wriggled his eyebrows at her with a toothy grin. She snorted, smacking his hand lightly. It was all teasing, the both of them were horrible flirts and they couldn’t help but let it bleed into all of their interactions. It was okay though, because they both knew where the line was, and they both liked it well enough.

“get your head out of the gutter,” She admonished playfully and Jamie laughed properly then, a giggly, sweet laugh that was relatively new to her. It was her favourite, of all of Jamie’s laughs. Still, the offer of a surprise was enough to get Jamie off the couch and begrudgingly up the stairs to his room.

When Keeley had first learnt that Roy’s guest room had essentially just become Jamie’s room, she’d been a little surprised and a little weirded out. She hadn’t really been around, to witness the shift in Roy and Jamie’s relationship the same way everyone else had. It felt a bit like stepping into a parallel universe, when she and Roy were taking their first tentative steps towards fixing things between them and she had found that Jamie had seemingly stepped into all of the gaps that Keeley left behind. All the attention that Roy used to give to her, all the care and intense devotion that she hadn’t known how to handle, was instead being channelled into Jamie, who took to it like a duck took to water.

It took her some adjusting, and some self-reflection, and a couple of long talks with Rebecca and then one even longer talk with Roy specifically, to figure out why it bothered her so much at the start. She’d been used to a status quo with Roy, knowing that she stood at the centre of his attention before with the only exception being Phoebe and his sister. It had been intense, and too much for her at times, but it had been reliable. When they started seeing each other again, she had expected it to be how it was before. It wasn’t, because Roy had done a lot of work on himself, in between breaking up with her and asking her for coffee just as friends so they could talk a few months before, and it had thrown Keeley off kilter. The solution was of course to get over herself, because if Roy was going to try and be better for her, than she was going to try and be better for him too. Accountability and all those other things she believed to be important. She was better off for it too, because having both Roy and Jamie in her life was a fucking delight, and them having each other in their lives was good for them.

Jamie’s room was a lot like Phoebe’s room, in the sense that all it took was looking past the threshold to know that Roy was not the person to decorate it, or at the very least it was not decorated with Roy in mind. Keeley didn’t want to be quoted, because she was an amateur interior decorator at best whose qualifications came entirely from watching too much HGTV when she was bored, but she would describe Jamie’s room as a very mid-century modern kind of vibe, which was a stark contrasts to Roy’s general taste for minimalism that permeated the rest of his house.

The room had little touches of Jamie spread all through it too. There was a dark blue accent wall, with artsy prints and band posters in gold frames that Keeley knew for a fact Jamie picked out because they were for artists that he liked and Roy didn’t give a fuck about. There was a scratch map on the wall, with Brazil, Amsterdam and England all scratched off. Jamie’s stuffed shark was on the bed and there was a console sat opposite his bed that had the fancy record player that Ted had gotten him for his birthday sitting on it. Even the bedding, a textured jewel toned blue comforter with a couple of rusty orange pillows thrown in for good measure, screamed of Jamie’s influence. Though the lack of animal print anywhere in the room was likely Roy’s doing.

Jamie waltzed into the room and dramatically flopped onto his bed, messing up the neatly arranged pillows and tucked in comforter as he starfished across the surface and gazed up at her expectantly waiting for the surprise he was promised. Keeley laughed, shaking her head at his antics.

“you’ve got to get ready first babe,” she said, kicking at his ankle lightly to get him back up. Jamie pouted out her with his kicked puppy eyes, like she was torturing him for wanting him to brush his teeth and take a shower before bed. Luckily, Keeley was well used to Jamie’s sullen kicked puppy look, and simply wagged her finger at him in response. “Don’t pout, just cause your cute doesn’t mean you’re getting out of it. Go on and take a shower, I’ll get your surprise ready, yeah?”

Jamie flushed again suddenly, the way he always did when people called him things like cute or sweet, but he didn’t let that stop the grin on his face that appeared at any kind of compliment.

“You never said what kind of surprise it was,” Jamie said as he dragged himself off the bed and towards the ensuit that connected to his room, clearly just stalling for time.

“If I tell you it won’t be a surprise,” Keeley teased, a gentle hand on his back as she guided him to the bathroom faster. “go on, the quicker your done the quicker you get the surprise.”

“I’m going, ‘m going,” Jamie laughed, accepting Keeley’s hurrying good naturedly as he slipped into the bathroom muttering, “better be a fuckin’ brilliant surprise, like a puppy. Or a fucking unicorn.”

Keeley laughed as the door shut, and waited until she could hear the noise of the shower running to slip back downstairs and grab her bag. She and Roy had talked about how he usually got Jamie to sleep in depth during their dinner, and Keeley had taken issue with Roy’s bully him into going to bed strategy.

“he’s never going to learn to put himself to sleep if you keep babysitting him until he does,” she’d told him, and Roy had furrowed his eyebrows all cranky like at being called out, but he’d grumbled at her to elaborate “you’ve got to get him used to doing certain things before bed, stuff to relax him so it’s easier for him to fall asleep on his own.”

“like what?” Roy had asked all gruff and surly the way he was, open to letting Keeley in to help him with Jamie, now that he was convinced she’d take it seriously. That was where Keeley’s surprise came in. Well, it was more like surprises plural, because Keeley was nothing if not committed once she was onboard.

She laid everything out first, once she got back up to the bedroom, she could hear Jamie in the shower, half singing to himself as he went about his usual business. It was simple things really, sleepy time lotion and a diffuser with some lavender oil that was supposed to help make the room nice and calm. She’d even picked up some melatonin gummies, in case Jamie wanted to give them a go. And, mostly for her own enjoyment, she’d gotten him a new shirt that would be perfect to sleep in. It was light blue and just a bit bigger than Jamie’s actual size with a Monet painting printed on the front but that wasn’t why Keeley got it. She got it because it was ridiculously soft, and Jamie would adore the feel of the fabric.

She set up the diffuser as Jamie clattered around in the bathroom, so the room would smell nice when he came out, before dimming the lights so the room was illuminated in a gentle warm light. Once the shower stopped, it didn’t take Jamie long to emerge from the now very steamy bathroom his boxers on, a towel around his neck and his hair still damp.

“Did you dry off at all?” Keeley questioned standing up from the bed and standing between Jamie and the bed. Jamie gave her a cheeky grin, before shaking his hair out like a wet dog in a silent but pointed “No” to her question. Keeley sighed, striding towards Jamie with a purpose as she took the towel from around his neck and began drying him off. She started with his hair, standing on her tiptoes to reach as she scrubbed the towel over it.

“cheeky,” she admonished teasingly, just to see the blush crawl over his bare shoulders.

“Oi, go easy.” Jamie griped, trying to bat her away. He didn’t do very well, the towel obstructing his vision making him swat at air for the most part.

“I’m being gentle,” Keeley said, poking her tongue out at him even if he could only kind of see her.

“You’re being a maniac,” Jamie replied and Keeley snorted.

“wouldn’t be a problem if you just dried your hair yourself,” she sung happily, finally pulling the towel away and letting Jamie see properly again. His hair stuck up every which way from the towel, but that was fine because Keeley would fix it eventually. “It only takes like two seconds.”

“More fun the other way,” Jamie mumbled, finally looking around the room with a confused little divot in the creases of his forehead. “Is this the surprise then?”

“sort of,” Keeley said, chucking Jamie the shirt, which he caught with ease, tugging it over his head and smoothing the fabric out with the palms of his hands a couple of times before mumbling a quiet “this is nice.” that let Keeley know she’d made a good choice with it. She sat down on the edge of the bed, patting the comforter to entice Jamie to come sit next to her, which he did happily, clambering over and dropping down beside her so their arms and thighs were pressed together. “I know you don’t like going to sleep so early, so I thought I might make it a bit nicer.”

“How?” Jamie asked, blinking at her big, tired eyes. He looked like he was barely refraining from rubbing at them.

“well, when I was little and I used to stay at my aunties a lot.” Keeley explained, shifting so that she could pull the covers back and gently pushed Jamie into laying down flat as she did, tucking his shark into the crook of his elbow, “she had this dead nice lotion, used to give me a little massage with it before bed, and it always made me really relaxed. Thought we might give it a go, see if you like it?”

Jamie’s face did something complicated then, and Keeley was worried she might’ve upset him somehow when his eyes got a bit glassy and his lip a bit wobbly, but he took a sharp breath in through his nose and gave a quick little nod.

“That sounds really nice,” he said, voice a little thick. Keeley smiled sweetly at him, smoothing a gentle hand across his forehead.

“Alright babe,” she said soothingly “close your eyes then.”

Jamie, obediently, let his eyes slip closed as Keeley reached for the lotion. She popped the cap, and Jamie’s chest rose and fell in a steady, counted rhythm that let her know he was counting each breath out in his head the same way he did when he was feeling overwhelmed by something. He didn’t ask her to stop though, even when she hesitated.

She started on his legs, kneading the lotion gently into his skin. Jamie, thanks to being a professional athlete as well as a constantly moving ball of energy with seemingly no off switch, always carried tension in his muscles. She could feel it as she worked, slowly and gently, humming a quiet song while she did it. Jamie’s eyes stayed closed, his eye lashes fluttering and breathing evening out slowly.

He was still awake, when she moved from his legs to his hands, rubbing soothing circles on his palms the same way her aunt used to do for her, humming the same lullaby she used to hum. She could tell, because his breath hitched every now and then, a little whine escaping his throat, like he was startling himself back to consciousness.

“shh,” she soothed gently, thumb circling his palm smoothly as his brow crinkled and his eyes cracked open a touch to look at her with sleep heavy vulnerability. “it’s alright Jamie, just relax,”

“Keeley?” he whispered, stopping her gentle massaging by closing his hand around hers.

“Yeah Jamie?” she whispered back, reaching up with her other hand to pet his hair gently.

“Can you lay with me for a bit?” he asked after a moment of quiet, voice small and hopeful. Keeley felt her heart melt into a gooey little puddle in her chest. She had always known that Jamie was capable of tooth rotting sweetness, but it still caught her off guard whenever he let her see it. She pressed a light kiss to his forehead before chasing it away with another gentle swipe of her thumb over the same spot.

“course babe,” she said softly, climbing over so that she could comfortably lay down beside Jamie without jostling him too much. As soon as Keeley was settled beside him, Jamie rolled so that his face was mashed into her stomach and his arm was thrown over her waist, squeezing her tightly like he was afraid she might vanish.

“Thank you,” he murmured, voice sleep heavy and muffled into her stomach. Keeley smiled, scratching her nails through his hair gently in a way that made him keen happily. His eyes fluttered close again.

“I love you,” she whispered in reply, pressing a kiss to his hair. Jamie was too far gone, sleep dragging him under now, but he managed to garble something close to “I love you too” before his breathing evened out and he was snoring softly, still tangled up with Keeley.

Later, when Keeley had carefully extracted herself from Jamie’s barnacle hold on her, and returned herself to the couch downstairs, she called Roy just as she promised she would. He picked up after the second ring.

“Hey,” he said, and Keeley hummed her own hello back “how was he?”

“an angel.” she replied, grinning at the way she could practically feel Roy’s irritation at that fact. he’d told her all about his own attempts at getting Jamie to sleep and what a brat Jamie had been, trying to prepare her for the worst. She had of course grinned at him and told him that Jamie would be easy as pie for her, because he always was. Roy had raised an unimpressed but amused brow at her, and a challenge had been issued. Keeley had won, because Keeley always won. “He called me a traitor once because he thought I was just here to hang out with him, but his ego was soothed with bribery. He was out before 10.”

“little prick,” Roy muttered into the phone and Keeley laughed, making sure to keep her voice light in case Jamie woke up.

“He asked me to lay with him,” She said after a beat of silence “it was sweet, I don’t know how you ever say no to him.”

“easily,” Roy replied, too quickly for Keeley to believe him “because I’m not a fucking pushover.”

Keeley hummed disbelievingly, and Roy grumbled in response, and her heart felt like a sparkler again, fizzing down to its end. She tried her best not to get involved in Roy and Jamie’s royandjamieness, but it would be worth it every time she did, if it meant she got to have both of her boys, happy and safe and loved.

Chapter Text

Some days were just good. You wake up and you feel like your fucking floating through life or some shit. Jamie had been having one of those days. They had an away game that night, and would spend most of the time leading up to the match on the bus there. He’d packed the night before at Roy’s insistence of being organised and other grandad shit, so he hadn’t had to worry about it when he’d finally gotten up and wandered down to the kitchen. Roy had either been in a good mood or had spent too much time watching cooking shows the night before, because he’d made a fancy shmancy breakfast that tasted fucking grand. They’d driven to the club together, and Jamie had bullied Roy into letting him use the aux so he’d gotten to listen to something other than the fucking dad rock Roy liked to listen too on repeat.

Even the bus ride to the match had been fun. He’d sat up the back with Dani and Sam, playing a game of I Spy after Dani’s legs had started bouncing relentlessly twenty minutes into the three-hour ride which had the turned into a game of Spotto that all the players got roped into which had then led to them realising that Colin was colour blind which meant they spent the entire rest of the ride pointing at random shit and asking him what colour it was.

The match had been fucking brilliant. Forget floating through life, Jamie was fucking flying during the match. they won, 4-nil, two of those goals from Jamie and the other two from Dani and Colin both with assists from Jamie. The team had been riding the high from it ever since, prancing around the hotel like a bunch of lunatics, Jamie happily among them. It had been such a good day that Jamie had all but forgotten about Roy and his stupid mandatory bedtime until it was well past nine o’clock.

They’d had a sort of argument about it, a couple of days ago when Jamie had realised that Roy probably wouldn’t let him get away with skipping out on bedtime just because they had a match. It was less of an argument though, and more Jamie bitching about how it was unfair and Roy was the worst while Roy rolled his eyes and tried to cook dinner. Jamie was right though, not about Roy being the worst because Roy was actually kind of alright even if he was a grumpy control freak twat, but it was unfair. Sure, the rest of the team had a curfew too, a time they had to be back in their rooms by and they were encouraged to sleep by, but it wasn’t nearly as early as Jamie’s, and no one made them sleep so long as they were back in their rooms. Roy’s stupid bedtime was like favouritism but the bad kind. Jamie didn’t know the word for that. Maybe he should ask Beard.

Once Jamie realised the time, the fancy decorative clock in the hotel bar announcing that it was 9:42 PM, he’d hoped that maybe it meant Roy had been swept up in the celebrations and forgotten about tracking Jamie down for bed entirely. He figured if Roy hadn’t come to find him, Jamie certainly wasn’t going to go looking for him and happily returned his attention to the drinking game that Cockburn and Reynolds were playing. He didn’t really understand the rules, but he was pretty sure Reynolds was winning.

The team was scattered throughout the hotel. Most of them had congregated at the bar, but the hotel was a fancy place. Isaac had dragged Colin with him to try out the steam room thing that was advertised by Early 2000’s Keeley on the telly, and Jamie didn’t actually know where Bumbercatch had gotten off too. Jan Maas was probably with him, either keeping him out of trouble or getting him into more. Richard at least was at the bar, so whatever those two were up too without him, it could always be worse. Sam and Dani were on either side of Jamie, cheering on Cockburn, who Jamie was still pretty sure was losing.

He wasn’t actually paying that much attention to what was happening around him, busy feeling warm and floaty and fucking good, squeezed between Dani and Sam watching his friends play a dumb game and have fun doing it. Jamie never used to feel like this, back before Richmond and Ted and Roy and the lads. He always thought happiness was about relief, always thought it came from knowing that you’d done good enough to avoid bad stuff happening. He liked this version of happiness more, this kind felt better, more whole. The kind of happiness that he could just sit in, laughing when his friends laughed and leaning heavily on Dani’s shoulder. He didn’t want it to be over yet.

So of course, when he spots Roy entering the hotel bar with this fucking look on his face that Jamie already knows means he’s being marched up to bed the second Roy manages to catch him thanks to weeks of experience, his mind doesn’t even give him the chance to think things through before he’s sliding off his chair and ducking under the table out of sight. Thankfully, Cockburn and Reynolds don’t seem to mind Jamie barging into their leg room, too enraptured in beating each other to notice. Sam and Dani, however, do notice.

“Jamie, what on earth are you doing?” Sam asked, poking his head down and tilting it a bit to the side, watching Jamie curiously.

“Aye, is it floor time?” Dani asked, smiling all bright and happy, “because if it is, there are better floors we can sit on than this one, it is sticky and unpleasant.”

Dani was absolutely right about the floor being sticky and unpleasant, but it wasn’t like Jamie was hiding under a table for fun. He shushed both of his friends quickly, holding a finger to his lips sharply. Sam mostly seemed amused, and Dani mimed zipping his lips shut.

“I’m avoiding Roy.” Jamie explained, when he was sure they weren’t going to give him away somehow. Dani’s brow furrowed, his eyes darting up at he looked around the room until he inevitably found Roy.

“Why?” Dani asked, face becoming alarmingly serious very quickly. “did coach do something?”

“No.” Jamie said quickly, reaching up to grab Dani’s clenched hand and squeezing reassuringly. It was nice, he’d admit, to know that Dani liked him enough to get all up in arms at the very implication Jamie might be upset by something, but he didn’t need Dani jumping Roy like a rabid chihuahua over this. “Nothing bad. He’s just being a bit of an annoying twat really.”

“Oh, that is good then,” Dani replied, perking back up. It was always strange to witness how quickly Dani could shift moods. “It looks like he is looking for you though.”

“fuck, okay.” Jamie mumbled “is he near the door?”

“No, he’s closer to the bar now.” Sam supplied, glancing up and then back down at Jamie “why? what are you going to do?”

“gonna try and make a break for it,” Jamie explained. “If I can get to the doors without him seeing me, then I can just run. He’s got grandad knees; he won’t be able to catch me that way.”

“that sounds fun,” Dani said, almost giddily. No one ever suspected Dani of being a trouble maker. It was what made him so effective at being one. “Like being a spy.”

“I don’t like this.” Sam said, though he already sounded resigned to his fate “If Roy is looking for you, he must have a reason.”

“Yeah,” Jamie replied, crawling towards the edge of the table to try and spot where Roy might be and what might be the best path to take the avoid him and get to the door. “the reason is being an annoying twat.”

He wasn’t about to admit Roy had gone and given him a bedtime out loud to Sam and Dani. That was pathetic, and embarrassing, and Jamie thinks he might die on the spot if anyone on the team ever found out about Roy and his stupid rule. Better they think Jamie’s being a drama queen.

“Are you seriously going to do this?” Sam asked, sounding a bit pained about it, eyes all big and pleading with Jamie to behave like a normal person. When Jamie didn’t miraculously change his mind, he sighed. “It’s a bad idea.”

“It will be fun Sam,” Dani encouraged, patting Sam on the shoulder excitedly, “We can be spies with Jamie!”

“You don’t have to help me,” Jamie assured him, because he really didn’t. Jamie could run away from Roy just fine on his own, but Sam groaned, sounding put upon that way he always did when Jamie and Dani successfully dragged him into bad decisions. They were getting better at it recently, taking less time to wear him down.

“I think we are all going to regret this.” Sam announced with a little shake of his head, like he couldn’t believe that this was what his life had come too. And, Jamie would admit that Sam was probably right, and he was only prolonging the inevitable, but Jamie had never claimed to make good decisions.

Dani and Sam act as a protective wall, when Jamie pokes his head back up from under the table. Sure enough, Roy is stood at the bar and chatting quietly to Beard, probably asking him if he had any idea where Jamie was. Beard says something in response, jabbing his thumb back towards the table Jamie is hiding under, and he knows that it’s game time now.

“Okay, time to go lads.” Jamie urges, crawling out from under the table and ducking down to try and avoid Roy seeing him. Dani jumps up with gusto, thrilled to be a part of the little game he’d decided they were playing. Sam, with a reasonable amount of reluctance followed.

It’s not as hard as one would imagine, trying to navigate a decently filled hotel bar and stay hidden, especially with Dani and Sam effectively acting as human shields standing between him and Roy. Jamie also wasn’t very tall, at least not in comparison to some of his teammates, so it was easy to duck and weave through the crowd and hide behind them. Dani was excited at least, happily humming the pink panther theme song while Sam guided them through the crowd as the only person behaving normally. If they looked strange, no one around seemed to care that much. They’d all done weirder things in each other’s presence before.

They almost make it to the door without any real interference, Roy having reached the table Jamie had been hiding under and talking with Declan and Paul once again probably asking them where Jamie had gotten off too. It was nothing short of a miracle and thanks to Roy’s general one-track mind that Jamie had managed to escape unseen in the first place. Of course, nothing is ever that easy, and the fact he had not looped Cockburn and Reynolds into the fact he was trying not to be found by Roy means they have no problem pointing their traitorous fucking fingers over to the doorway where Jamie, Dani and Sam were so close to escaping.

“Oi!” Roy called, garnering the attention of the entire team that was posted up in various corners in that fucking pavlovian way Keeley was always on about “I can fucking see you Tartt, get back here.”

Jamie would like to reiterate that he was not known for his good decision-making skills when it comes to what happens next. When Roy shouts, the three of them pause like fucking deer in headlines, blinking at Roy whose deranged fucking caterpillar eyebrows are all arranged in the way that Jamie knows mean come-here-right-the-fuck-now and if not for the fact that Jamie’s entire brain has short circuited so the only coherent thought, he could have was Fuck It. he probably would have listened. Be that as it may, the only thing he could think was Fuck It, so obviously the next thing he did was grab onto Dani and Sam’s hands as tight as he could manage, and take off as fast as he fucking could out the door.

Roy was going to fucking kill Jamie. He was going to smother him to death with a goddamn fucking pillow for pulling this shit. He’d expected the little twat to put up a fight, the same way he always fucking did when Roy had to wrangle him to bed, he hadn’t been expecting the fucking prick to sprint away from him at full speed with fucking Dani and fucking Sam. And now, Roy had to chase after the three fucking amigos, because he’d be fucked if he let Jamie get away with pulling this shit.

“What the hell was that about?” Beard asked, when Roy stalked back up to him, cussing Jamie out in his head for all the fucker was worth. Silently, Beard slid his half empty beer to Roy, which he took a swig of. He was going to need a stronger drink by the end of the night, he could already fucking feel it, but he’d take what he could get now.

“Jamie’s supposed to be in bed.” Roy said, once he’d swallowed his mouthful and slid it back over to Beard. “and the little fuck knows it. He’s running away so I don’t drag his stupid arse back to his hotel room.”

Beard, to his credit, doesn’t question why exactly Jamie is supposed to be in bed hours before anyone else on the team or why it’s Roy’s problem. He probably didn’t need too, because Roy had bitched about Jamie’s sleeping habits at length in the coach’s office, and just because Beard didn’t offer the same kind of vaguely helpful advice as Ted often did, it didn’t mean he wasn’t listening.

Keeley had thought it would be funny, to start reading him experts from parenting books and forums of getting kids to sleep, she’d been doing it to mock Roy for being overprotective and weird of course, but the joke had been on both of them when a lot of the shit they had read ended up working on Jamie like a fucking charm. Because even if Jamie was technically a grown adult, he didn’t fucking act it.

Jamie had been bitching about having to go to bed early at an away game for weeks now, in an effort to get Roy to cave and tell him he could do whatever the fuck he wanted, but it hadn’t happened. Roy had decided well before that Jamie was going to stick to his fucking routine at away games, because it was what he fucking needed. All the fucking forums said so too.

Which meant now Roy had to chase Jamie and his fucking friends around the hotel because Jamie couldn’t get away with pulling shit like that just because they weren’t at home. And he’d probably have to give Sam and Dani another lecture about going along with Jamie’s stupid fucking plans, which always made Roy feel a bit like he was kicking puppies.

“Best of luck to you.” Was all Beard said, tipping his hat to Roy like he was waving him off to war or some shit. It fucking felt like it, when Roy finally pushed himself back off the bar and headed towards the exit to try and track Jamie down. Fucking muppets.

Jamie ran until he was out of breath, and then he ran some more, pulling Sam and Dani along with him through the ever confusing, monotonous halls of the hotel as far away from the bar as he could get.

“I think we can stop running now,” Dani chimed, tugging Jamie’s in a hand in a bid to slow him down. “I do not think coach is chasing us.”

Jamie, much to his friend’s relief, listened. Skidding to a sudden stop on the ugly carpet of the hotel. It was a gross shade of orange and brown, patterned like weird hexagons with smaller hexagons inside. Jamie supposed it was modern and cool a long time ago, but now it was just kind of weird looking and made his eyes hurt a bit. Dani at least didn’t seem to mind the carpet, sprawling out right in the middle of the hallway, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath.

“I cannot believe you just ran away from Roy.” Sam muttered, leaning heavily against the wall and holding a hand to his heart like he was trying to keep it in his chest.

“Nah mate, you’re in it too now,” Jamie said, waving a hand vaguely at Sam as he keeled over with his hands on his knees to catch his breath “You ran as well.”

“I don’t even know why we were running!” Sam argued. Jamie felt his face flush, his cheeks burning red at the idea of having to explain himself. He was embarrassed enough when it just Keeley who knew, he didn’t need to rest of them team in on Roy’s fucking insanity. Sam could probably keep it a secret, if Jamie asked him too, but Dani wouldn’t be able to help himself. He’d try his best, but he was just awful at keeping secrets.

“doesn’t matter now,” Jamie chirped teasingly, deflecting the attention back to Sam easily “you ran too, you’re gonna get in trouble.”

Sam, of course, looked stricken by the implication that he was going to be in trouble. Jamie bet he was one of those kids that always had his stupid little name tag on the green peg board. Jamie wasn’t one of those kids. He lived in a semi-permanent state of yellow and red pegs.

“I don’t even know what I’m going to get in trouble for.” Sam lamented, covering his face with his hands. Honestly, he was just putting on a bit of a show, but it was funny so Jamie wasn’t going to say anything about it.

“What the fuck happened to you three?” Isaac asked, appearing out of nowhere with Colin in tow. They looked all refreshed and shit, so Jamie guessed they had a good time at the spa.

“Hello Capitan!” Dani called, sitting up and grinning still full of energy “we have been running away from Coach Roy!”

Isaac’s face did something funny at that, his brow furrowing like he was trying to decide if he wanted to make this his problem or not. Colin made the decision for him, because he seemed delighted at whatever nonsense they were getting up too.

“What’re you running away from the gaffer for?” he asked, offering his hand to Dani to pull him up off the floor. Sam made a little noise of confusion, and Dani very pointedly shrugged over in Jamie’s direction.

“Jamie said that Roy is being annoying,” Dani supplied helpfully. Jamie covered his face when Isaac turned to look at him questioningly.

“bout what?” he asked.

“Nothing.” Jamie said quickly, probably too quickly, which was a mistake because Colin and Isaac both seemed to notice something about the way he said it that made them light up like kids on fucking Christmas. They were never going to drop it.

“Nothing huh boyo?” Colin asked, smirking at Jamie with this fucking look he usually got when he was about to be extremely annoying to Jamie in particular, slinging an arm over his shoulder and pinching at his cheek. “can’t be nothing if you’re running away from it.”

“Well, it is,” Jamie said, swatting at Colins hands “he’s just being annoying, same as you.”

“Nah bruv,” Isaac said, shaking his head “your ears are all red, somethings up.”

Jamie, unthinkingly, clapped his hands over his ears to hide them from view, which just made the others laugh.

“Fuck off!” Jamie exclaimed, which just made them laugh harder because Jamie was friends with a bunch of arseholes.

“Jamie’s embarrassed,” Colin crowed, grinning like the fucking cat that got the cream as he ruffled Jamie’s hair. “must be something good if Roy’s got you of all people embarrassed.”

“shut the fuck up!” Jamie retorted, shoving Colin off of him “it’s nothing, you guys are twats!”

“It is okay Jamie,” Dani assured him, taking Colin’s place with his arm wrapped around Jamie’s shoulder. “You do not have to tell us why you are running away from Roy if you do not want too,”

“Good, cause I don’t.” Jamie mumbled petulantly, leaning into the touch. His eyes felt a bit heavy, now that he wasn’t so preoccupied with running, and Dani’s weight across his shoulders felt nice. Of course, it didn’t last, because that was right when Roy decided to round the corner.

“you know, if you’re trying to hide from me, try not being so fucking loud.” He said, fixing Jamie with an unhappy little glower, and oh Jamie was going to be in for it if Roy caught him. Anyone else would probably accept their fate, Jamie had already made it further than he would’ve any other night. Unfortunately, Jamie was not anyone else, and making poor choices was his proclivity of the night. Roy could apparently tell too, because he started growling out a warning, “Jamie, if you fucking run again-” Jamie didn’t get to hear the end of the threat though, because he’d already taken off down the hall, ignoring the surprised calls of “Jamie wait!” and “Where are you going!” from Dani and Sam.

Roy spent about five minutes walking in the general direction he’d seen Jamie, Sam and Dani run off too. He didn’t run after them, because he wasn’t a fuckwit like they were running around a busy hotel like a bunch of fucking children, and because they were bound to get themselves caught eventually. They were a lot of things, but quiet was not one of them, especially not as a group. All Roy needed to do was leisurely walk in one direction long enough and he was bound to hear Jamie or Dani shouting nonsense at each other eventually.

He passed a few members of the team in the halls, making their way to and from different areas of the hotel. And Roy wanted it on record that he didn’t like the fact that he knew exactly who O’Brien was referring to when he asked Roy why the babies were running around like lunatics, but at least he knew that he was heading in the right general direction. Still, mostly directionless wandering wasn’t the most effective way to try and track Jamie down, which is why when he spotted Ted meandering through the halls while chatting with Jan Maas and Bumbercatch, he figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask.

“You seen Jamie?” He asked, in lieu of a greeting or anything resembling polite conversation. Ted didn’t seem to mind, eyes lighting up just because Roy decided to stop and talk to him. They did that every time, and it kind of weirded Roy out how excited Ted was to have inane casual conversations, but to each their fucking own he guessed. Jan Maas and Bumbercatch slowed to a stop, both shaking their heads.

“afraid not, hotshot” Ted drawled, stalling in his walk towards wherever the fuck he was going to appraise Roy, tilting his head to the side curiously, clearly reading Roy’s irritation for exactly what it was. “He’s in a bit of trouble I take it?”

“the fucker was supposed to be in bed an hour ago, when I went to find him, he fucking took off.” Roy grumbled, breathing out slowly through his nose. He wasn’t really angry, not the shouting kind that tended to set Jamie on edge, that Roy was making a deliberate effort to stay away from these days, but he was annoyed. Jamie needed to sleep, and he was being a fucking nitwit nuisance about it. “Dragged Dani and Sam off with him in this direction.”

Ted, much like Beard, was well aware of Roy’s opinions of Jamie’s sleep schedule and also well aware of Jamie’s opinion of Roy’s attempts to get the little idiot to fix it, if not because Jamie had said something than because Roy spent great amounts of times in the morning bitching about Jamie being a stubborn dickhead. Ted just laughed good naturedly.

“Yeah, Henry has a phase like that too when he was little,” He said fondly, smoothing a hand over his face, then he nodded over to Jan Maas and Bumbercatch who were milling close by. “looks like we’re both dealing with some troublemakers tonight.”

“The fuck did they do this time?” Roy asked, almost unsure if he actually wanted to know. With Jan Maas and Bumbercatch, it was always a gamble how weird their antics could get and sometimes you were better off not knowing. Ted didn’t look particularly harrowed tonight, so Roy thought it was probably fine.

“We weren’t doing anything!” Moe defended quickly. Jan Maas nodding by his side, clearly not in the mood to be talking tonight.

“Now we both know that ain’t true Moe,” Ted chided lightly “we’ve got rules about taking hotel property for a reason.”

Moe rolled his eyes, looking a bit like a stroppy teenager about the scolding he was getting as he mumbled “we were going to give it back.” and Roy decided he didn’t actually care enough about whatever it was they did. He was busy dealing with his own toddler in a grown man’s body.

“Right,” Roy said, pointing at Moe and Jan Maas to address them specifically “I’m going to keep looking for Jamie now. You two stop trying to steal the weird shit you want, you’re fucking rich, just buy it.”

“Alright then, I’ll let you know if I see him,” Ted replied cheerfully, at the same time Bumbercatch mumbled a little sullenly “it’s not as fun that way.” Roy was already walking away, but he could guess that Jan Maas was nodding along. Sometimes, he wondered if the team had always been like this and he’d been too preoccupied to notice, or if there was something about Ted and his stupid fucking moustache that urged everybody into acting like children. Maybe a bit of both, was what Roy usually settled on.

He kept wandering for a bit, down the nondescript hallways of the hotel. He’d never cared much for hotels, or sleepovers, or camping, or sleeping anywhere but his own fucking house in his own fucking bed, but it was one of those things that he wasn’t able to avoid in life, and had simply sucked it up. He always hated hotels in particular. Something about them just bothered him. The way all the hallways looked the same, with the same ugly carpets and the same cheap wall decor and fake plants. Roy didn’t even know you could buy fake plants in bulk. He probably just watched the shining too much as a kid. It didn’t take long for him to hear the tell-tale sounds of his idiots from down one of the carbon copy hallways.

“Shut the fuck up!” Jamie shouts, to someone about something from around the corner, and at least Roy knows where he is now, setting off in the direction of the noise. When he rounds the corner, he sees Dani, Sam, Colin, Isaac and Jamie all standing around. Colin and Isaac had clearly been teasing Jamie, because his face was all red and he was pouting the way he did whenever he got teased.

“you know, if you’re trying to hide from me, try not being so fucking loud.” Roy said, and Jamie’s head snapped over to him. They all freeze the same way they had in the bar, like kids with their hands in the fucking cookie jar, and Roy see’s the exactly fucking moment Jamie decides he’s going to bolt. “Jamie, if you fucking run again-”

He doesn’t get the chance to finish his threat, because Jamie had already taken off down the hallway, leaving a shell-shocked Sam and Dani behind. Roy swears, because he had really been hoping this could be fucking done now. It was already approaching quarter past ten.

“Jesus Roy, what’re doing to him?” Colin asked with a disbelieving laugh, peering down the hall where Jamie had long since faded from view.

“I’m trying to get him to take fucking care of himself.” Roy grumbled, pivoting to face Dani and Sam, who were standing opened mouthed and wide eyed, both straightening a bit at the attention that was suddenly on them. “When I’m done with him, we are going to have a fucking chat about how you should never, ever go along with Jamie’s stupid fucking plans. Got it?”

“Yes Coach,” “Yes, Roy” They reply in unison. Roy nods, satisfied, and sets off to try and track down fucking Jamie. Again. Keeley was going to have a fucking field day when he called her later to let her know how the night had gone.

Jamie was admittedly kind of tired, after his second escape for the night. He didn’t run as fast or for as long the second time around, both because he was fairly certain Roy wasn’t going to chase after him with his bum knee, and because he just didn’t have the energy. He blamed Roy entirely for that. Normally Jamie could stay awake for hours past nine, always running with too much energy, and now he felt like someone had tied lead weight to his feet as he dragged himself up a few floors just to really make sure Roy couldn’t figure out where he’d run off too.

He decides he’s better off just staying put and hiding for a bit, so he posts up beside one of the big fake plants they have in the stairwells and just sits. That way, depending on which direction Roy was coming from if he found Jamie again, he could run off in either direction. Honestly, Jamie didn’t need to keep running if Roy found him again. It was getting to be the standard curfew time and he’d need to be back in his room by then anyway, but it was the principle of it. And Roy was probably pissed off that Jamie had run in the first place, and there was a little, niggling part of Jamie that was afraid of being in trouble.

Not even serious trouble, because Roy would never really try and hurt Jamie, but that didn’t mean Jamie enjoyed getting disappointed lectures or sent to the chill out box either. Jamie actually kind of hated the chill out box, he hated sitting still and thinking about his actions. it was boring. He’d take Roy yelling at him until he was blue in the face over the chill out box. It wasn’t even a real box. Usually, it was a little prison made out of four cones on the pitch. Jamie wondered what they’d even use as the chill out box in the hotel. Maybe pillows. Or hairdryers, since all the rooms had one. They could probably make a little prison out of hairdryers.

“Well, hey there Jamie!” Ted’s voice chimed, interrupting Jamie’s thoughts abruptly. He was coming up the stairs, grinning at Jamie all nice like “what’re doing down there on the floor?”

“uhm nothing,” Jamie said a bit dimly, jumping up from his hiding spot “nothing at all, what’re you doing?”

“Oh, just heading on up to my room,” Ted said kindly, pointing up the stairs to the next floor where all of the team’s rooms were booked for. “you wanna come on up with me?”

“Sure,” Jamie replied, never one to turn down company. Besides, hanging out with Ted until curfew seemed like more fun than sitting beside a big potted plant on his own. Ted brought boardgames with him to away games sometimes, which Jamie found out a few months back when Dani had gotten sick and they’d ended up in the gaffer’s room because Jamie didn’t know how to make him feel better without help. They ended up playing scrabble while Ted coaxed Dani into eating crackers and taking medicine. Jamie didn’t do very well, but neither did Ted or Dani so he didn’t feel too bad about it.

“Well alright then,” Ted said contentedly. He and Jamie wandered up the stairs together in companionable silence, Ted checking something on his phone as they walked. Jamie didn’t look though, because that’d be rude innit, just peaking at the gaffer’s phone getting in his personal business Jamie was raised better than that.

Jamie, for the most part, was focusing on not toppling over as he walked. He was really tired all of a sudden, and it was very annoying. He yawned, wide enough for his jaw to crack a bit. He rubbed at his eyes absently. They were itchy and heavy feeling. Stupid Roy and his stupid bedtime infecting Jamie.

“oh boy, you look dead on your feet kiddo,” Ted murmured, his hand suddenly on Jamie’s back and guiding him as they walked, because at some point Jamie had veered off and almost walked into a wall while he was preoccupied trying to keep his eyes from closing.

“ ‘m not tired” Jamie mumbled, though he was immediately contradicted by another yawn overtaking him.

“I can see that,” Ted chuckled, patting Jamie on the back lightly “You seem wide awake to me, not even a little bit sleepy, no siree”

“that’s right.” Jamie nodded; glad Ted was on his side. Maybe he could get Ted to tell Roy to stop being dumb about the bedtime rule. Though, Roy only listened to Ted some of the time. Ted laughed again, smoothing a hand through Jamie’s hair quickly.

“You really are something else bud,” he said gently, and fondly, so even though Jamie wasn’t sure what he meant by it, he was pretty sure he meant it in a good way. They kept walking for a bit, winding up the stairs, Ted stopping Jamie from stumbling every now and again until they finally reached the floor they were all staying on.

Except instead of getting to follow Ted to his room and play scrabble or something, they’re intercepted by fucking Roy, standing at the top of the stairs and glowering all fucking menacing. Jamie couldn’t even run off back down the stairs, because Ted’s had was on his back keeping him in place.

“Hello again Roy,” Ted greeted just as cheerful as ever “I don’t suppose you’re still looking for Jamie?”

“I am actually,” Roy said, raising a pointed eyebrow at Jamie as if daring him to try and escape again.

“Well, ain’t that a funny coincidence,” Ted hummed, offering Jamie up like a fucking sacrifice or something. “I happened to find him in the stairwell, we were just coming up together.”

“Hey!” Jamie cried, turning to Ted with betrayal in his eyes. Ted just looked at Jamie all innocent like.

“Sorry kiddo, but Roy’s just looking out for you. We all are.” he said, not sounding even a little bit sorry the fucking traitor as he patted Jamie on the back one final time before continuing on up and stairs and whistling like a cartoon character, leaving Jamie alone to his fate.

“Come here.” Roy demanded. Jamie was stubborn, and if he really wanted too, he could probably try and run away again, but he didn’t think he’d get far before he fell on his face. So, sullenly, he trudged up the stairs to stand in front of Roy, who grunted approvingly. “Now, it’s time for fucking bed.”

“I’m not tired,” Jamie whined, the entire way back to his room, even as he was knuckling at his fucking eyes and tripping over his fucking feet. He grumbled and complained the entire time Roy man handled him through getting changed and washing his face and brushing his teeth, about how it wasn’t fair and Roy was mean and he didn’t need to sleep because he wasn’t even a little bit tired. Stubborn fucking twat.

Roy wasn’t as annoyed as he had been, now that he actually had Jamie in front of him and he didn’t have to chase the fuckwit around the hotel anymore. Mostly because Jamie could barely keep his eyes open. Most of his protests were said around yawns. He still put up a fight, but it wasn’t a very strong one.

“This is so unfair,” Jamie grumbled petulantly, sitting on the bed and pouting like a toddler.

“Stop fucking whinging,” Roy replied, tossing his phone to Jamie. reflexively, Jamie snatched it from the air, holding it in his hands and turning it over in confusion.

“The fuck am I supposed to do with this?” He asked.

“Call Keeley to say goodnight,” Roy said. Keeley had made them both promise they’d call her before they went to bed because she hadn’t been able to come to the match with them. She’d probably been spending the better part of the hour wondering what was taking Jamie so fucking long to call and worked herself up about it. Jamie, it seemed, had forgotten about that particular promise, but lit up at the mention of Keeley the way he always did.

He doesn’t waste any time unlocking Roys phone and dialling up Keeley on the speed dial. He even puts it on speaker without Roy having to ask.

“It took you long enough,” Keeley’s voice rings out in greeting, after the second ring. “I thought you’d fucking died Roy”

“Not my fault.” Roy replied, nudging Jamie with his foot “say hi to Keeley.”

“Hi to Keeley,” Jamie chirped into the receiver, bouncing on the spot a bit.

“Oh Jamie!” Keeley exclaimed, her voice a little tinny through the speaker “how’d the match go?”

“Went great, was fucking mint.” Jamie relayed happily, another yawn rolling through him right after, loud enough that Keeley caught it over the phone and laughed.

“Someone’s up way past their bedtime,” she teased lightly, and Jamie’s face flushed a soft pink the way it always did when Keeley poked fun at him for the curfew.

“Tell her what a fucking menace you were tonight.” Roy instructed, and Jamie poked his tongue out at him.

“I wasn’t a menace.” Jamie retorted at the same time Keeley’s voice asked “What did he do?”

“The little shit ran away from me tonight.” Roy said, and then for good measure added “Twice, actually.”

Keeley laughed, giggly and bright through the speaker.

“Oh Jamie,” she hummed “I see he caught you in the end.”

“Yeah,” Jamie replied sulkily, glaring at Roy with no real heat. “only because Ted’s a fucking traitor.”

“Sorry babe,” Keeley said soothingly, ever the Jamie-whisperer when he was being a stroppy child “We just want you to take care of yourself yeah? I’m sure your tired.”

“I know,” Jamie said, a bit bashfully, squirming on the spot like the idea of people wanting him to look after himself made him uncomfortable.

“Are you gonna listen to Roy now?” Keeley asked sweetly. Jamie wrinkled his nose a touch, like the thought of having to actually do as he was told was the worst thing in the world. Prick.

“Yeah,” Jamie said eventually, though not before a frankly ridiculous pause. Keeley laughed again, and if she were with them, Roy could picture her pressing a kiss to Jamie’s cheek or running her hands through his hair gently.

“Good boy,” she said, and Jamie couldn’t help but preen at the praise. “I love you sweetheart, goodnight.”

“Night Keeley,” Jamie said, and then much quieter like he was trying not to let Roy hear he whispered “I love you too.”

Roy let him have it, pretending he couldn’t hear the conversation despite the fact it was on speaker. He took the phone from Jamie before Keeley could hang up, and said his own goodbyes.

“I’ll call you later,” he promised, turning away from Jamie so he didn’t have the chance to pout or whine about Roy getting to stay up and call Keeley after Jamie had gone to sleep.

“You better,” Keeley said happily, he could hear her moving around the kitchen, probably making tea, “I love you as well. Go get Jamie to bed.”

“Yeah, I will.” Roy said, before hanging up with his own “I love you” back.

He set his phone down on the nightstand, before turning back to Jamie. He was in a right fucking state, his eyes red rimmed and drooping from the effort of trying to keep them open, his hair messy from his bout of running around like a lunatic.

“alright, c’mon.” Roy urged, pulling back the covers of the bed and urging Jamie under them. Despite his earlier complaining, Jamie went easily, his eyes already half closed before Roy even finished tucking the blanket up around his shoulders.

“Roy?” Jamie mumbled; his voice half muffled by the pillow his face was mashed into.

“What?” Roy asked, walking around to Jamie’s bag and grabbing his stuff shark from where it was resting on top of it to give to the kid before he realised he didn’t already have it and started whining for it.

“are you mad that I ran away?”

“No.” Roy replied without a second of hesitation, because he wasn’t really. Irritated maybe, that Jamie didn’t want to take care of himself as much as Roy wanted to take care of him, but not mad. Especially since Jamie hadn’t really done anything wrong. “But you still shouldn’t do it.”

“’ cause your just looking out for me?” Jamie asked, opening his eyes to look at Roy with earnest curiosity and adoration in equal measure. Whatever filter he had when he was well rested seemingly demolished by his need for sleep.

“Yes.” Roy replied. Jamie hummed a little in response and Roy tucked the shark into his arms, Jamie immediately burying his face into its soft body with a small smile. Satisfied that Jamie wouldn’t be getting up before he fell asleep, Roy headed for the door with the intent of leaving Jamie to rest.

“Roy?” Jamie asked again, before Roy had the chance to flick off the lights and head for the door.

“What?” Roy replied, expecting another question.

“goodnight,” Jamie mumbled instead, already half asleep. In fact, Roy didn’t think he was awake at all when he muttered the next part “I love you.”

Awake or not, Roy returned it softly as he flicked off the lights.

“I love you too,” He said into the darkness of the room, and was met only with Jamie snuffling softly in his sleep. Fucking muppet.

Chapter Text

It was all Jan fucking Maas’ fault. Jamie had been having a fine morning. He’d gotten to spend the night before with Keeley because Roy was off at old lady yoga night, he’d made himself an omelette for breakfast because he’d had the time, the weather was nice and the radio had been playing all of his favourite songs on the way in. There wasn’t a single thing to indicate how utterly shit Jamie’s day was going to end up being once he walked into the locker room, so he’d been taken completely off guard when as soon as he’d put his bag down, Jan fucking Maas piped up and said,

“Why has Roy’s given you a bedtime?”

and suddenly everyone’s eyes were on him. The locker room chatter didn’t quite grind to a halt, but it faltered the way it did when everyone caught a particularly interesting snippet of conversation. And Jamie, well, Jamie kind of hoped that either Ted arrived to shuffle them out onto the pitch (unlikely, because it was early and training didn’t officially start for another half an hour) or that he would burst into flames on the spot (very likely, he could already feel how hot his face had gotten). Still, he tried to play it cool.

“What’re you on about?” He asked, forcing cockiness and bravado into his tone. When in doubt, play dumb, or play a prick. He refused to look at anyone, in case they could tell from the blush he could feel crawling up his neck that he knew exactly what Jan Maas was on about, and occupied himself with digging through his bag for nothing in particular. Of course, Jan Maas did not take the fucking hint, which Jamie should have expected because Jan Maas never took the fucking hint.

“Last week at the hotel when Roy was looking for you and you were running away.” Jan Maas recited like Jamie had not been there, or maybe had sudden onset amnesia, in that factual voice of his where you know everything he’s saying is true and correct but you don’t want to be hearing it “He said it was because you were supposed to be in bed, but it was not curfew yet. It’s only logical to assume that meant that Roy has given you an earlier curfew than the rest of us.”

“Yeah, I remember that,” Bumbercatch chimed in, snapping his fingers like he’d figured out some mystery. “Roy was asking Ted if he’d seen you, said you were supposed to be in bed an hour ago and that you’d run off. He looked pissed.”

Jamie was going to fucking kill Roy. He didn’t need to turn around to see the fucking dots connecting in Colin’s mind at Jan Maas and Bumbercatchs words, he could fucking feel it, delight rolling off the prick in waves.

“He’s got you going to bed at 9 o’clock?” Colin asked, sounding fucking thrilled at Jamie’s misery. Jamie resolutely ignored Colin, pulling his shirt up over his head with every intention of changing into his kit and moving the fuck on from this conversation. That turned out to be the wrong move, because then Colin was crowing at the sight of just how flushed Jamie was, slinging an arm around his shoulder and squeezing his face teasingly. “aww don’t be embarrassed boyo. s’not your fault Roy thinks you’re a toddler.”

“He doesn’t think I’m a fucking toddler.” Jamie snapped, shaking Colin off and pulling his kit on quickly. “and I haven’t got a fucking bedtime.”

“Your defensiveness indicates otherwise,” Bumbercatch pointed out, supremely un-fucking-helpfully. The others all chimed their various agreements with his statement. Jamie wondered how much trouble he’d get in if he started being a prick to everyone without the signal. They started it, but Ted might not see it that way if he made Colin cry before training even started. Jamie was so so tempted, as Colin kept fucking going.

“does he make you warm milk before bed?” Colin teased, grinning like today was the greatest day of his life “sing you a lullaby?”

“Would you fuck off?” Jamie demanded, mortified now. Roy usually made him tea before bed, some sleepy time shit Keeley swore by, and while he wasn’t a fan of lullabies, he’d read Jamie to sleep enough times when Jamie refused to even close his eyes without intervention. He’d always been well enough aware of what it looked like, having Roy baby him to sleep because he couldn’t sit still long enough to turn his own brain off.

He’d always been embarrassed by it, the way he tended to be embarrassed by soft care and attention; but he was able to suck it up, because it was just for him and Roy and Keeley to know, and they never made fun of him for needing someone to lay beside him stroking his hair until he was out. It was nice, under all the embarrassment, when it was something private. Jamie had never wanted the entire team to know though, because now it was just fucking humiliating.

“I don’t understand why you would let him treat you that way,” Jan Maas chimed in again, and the worst part was he wasn’t even trying to be a dick about it. He was just confused, and blunt about his confusion, completely unaware of how much it was making Jamie want to punch him in the face “Is that not infantilising? I would not like to be treated as if I were a toddler. I would find it disrespectful and condescending.”

“Nah Bruv,” Isaac chimed in, though he had the same shit eating grin Colin did and Jamie was abruptly reminded that Colin and Isaac were recovering arseholes just like he was. And even though Isaac was the responsible captain now, he wasn’t above taking the piss either. “It’s about mental age innit? Jamie’s basically a toddler if you look at it that way.”

There was another round of laughter and murmurs of agreement. Jamie decided he hated every single person in the room at the moment, and he wanted the conversation to be fucking over. It was all just friendly teasing, not any different to them all taking the piss out of Colin for being a shit driver or out of O’Brien for his torn butt, but Jamie didn’t want to be made fun of for this, didn’t want everyone poking around in what was supposed to be something just for him.

“Shut the fuck up.” He snapped. Jamie had never felt fucking disrespected when Roy was just trying to take care of him, never felt like it was because Roy thought he was stupid or childish. He’d been annoyed about it, sure, because it was fucking annoying to be carted off to bed when he was in the middle of doing something, but Roy wasn’t acting like that to make fun of Jamie. He hadn’t thought so anyway, Roy had told him it was because he cared about him, wanted him to practice good self-care habits or whatever the fuck. But the rest of the lads were nodding along like Jan Maas and Isaac had a point, and Jamie had never had a good frame of reference for when someone was or wasn’t being a dick to him on purpose. He slammed the door to his cubby shut. He already couldn’t wait for the day to be fucking over.

It doesn’t fucking stop for the rest of the day. The lads had sunk their teeth into the joke and weren’t going to let it go even if Jamie tried to pry it from their fucking jaws. It’s nothing bad, and it shouldn’t bother Jamie as much as it does, but it gets under his skin in a way he wasn’t prepared for. His laces come untied half way through training, and Richard asks if he needs help with them. Jeff asks him if Roy packed his lunch for him. Jan Maas has more fucking questions about the bedtime itself and how Roy enforces it which results in Jamie storming away from him and Isaac muttering something about how maybe Jamie needs a nap time too. It’s nothing mean, nothing actually hurtful, but it’s humiliating, having his teammates coo at him like he’s a toddler, even if it’s just a joke.

It wasn’t like Jamie didn’t know they thought he was immature. It wasn’t like Jamie didn’t know he was immature. He’d had a big discussion with Dr Sharon about it back when he’d first started seeing her. It involved a lot of links to studies and articles Jamie only kind of actually read, about how trauma can stunt emotional growth. They talked a lot about how Jamie raised himself and done kind of a shit job of it because he didn’t know how to raise anyone let alone himself at the ripe old age of five and half, so now he had to do a bunch of catching up.

Dr Sharon talked a lot about how it was natural, and how well Jamie was doing all things considered, but it still made him feel fucking defective sometimes. Now all the lads were shoving it in his face, that he wasn’t up to par with them. And he could tell they thought it was silly, that Jamie was left playing catch up while they’d all made it to the finish line.

No one had to put them to bed or sing them to sleep, because they’d all had someone who taught how to do it themselves back when they were wee little things but Jamie was learning all of it for the first time now.

So, he was in a bit of a foul fucking mood when they got home. Roy hadn’t asked, which was good because Jamie had his boiling pit of indignation roiling in his chest that made him feel like if he were to talk about it, he’d only end up spitting acid, but Roy also didn’t seem all that sympathetic. He rolled his eyes when Jamie got into the car and slammed the door, still fuming after Colin cooed about making sure he held Roy’s hand in the car park so he wouldn’t get lost before they’d left the locker room. Maybe Roy just hadn’t heard the teasing, or maybe Roy thought Jamie was being a pissy overdramatic twat about it, it didn’t matter either way to Jamie because it was Roy’s fucking fault in the first place.

If Roy hadn’t made the stupid fucking bedtime rule in the first place, if Roy hadn’t chased him around the fucking hotel, if Roy wasn’t so intent on acting like Jamie couldn’t take care of his fucking self, the lads wouldn’t have anything to make fun of him for anyway. Maybe Jan Maas was right about it being fucking in-fantasising or whatever, and Jamie shouldn’t’ve let it happen at all. He was a grown man and all, Roy couldn’t actually make Jamie do anything unless he let him.

Jamie’s foul fucking mood persisted for the rest of the drive. He tried not to let it show, twisting his shirt in his hands hard enough he was a bit worried he was going to tear the fabric, chewing at the inside of his lip until he tasted copper on his tongue, bouncing his leg quickly to the beat of the music on the radio. Anything to get the energy out before it swallowed him whole. There was only so much he could do though, without throwing himself out of a moving vehicle. Roy still didn’t say anything, even once they got home and Jamie practically fell out of the car, except to remind Jamie to take his shoes off before he came into the house or Roy would beat him over the head with them for tracking mud through the hallways, and that just made it worse.

Roy always ordered Jamie around like that. Normally, Jamie didn’t even notice it. It was just how Roy was, a control freak bastard who liked to be listened too. Tonight though, it was all Jamie could think about, the lads fucking teasing rattling around in Jamie’s brain making him hyper aware of each time Roy talked to him like he really was the same fucking age as Phoebe. By dinner, the teasing was mixed in with the long-buried voice of his dad, whispering in his ear about how fucking pathetic it was, having Roy cook him dinner and tuck him into bed like he was a little boy. Jamie had gotten good at ignoring that voice, but it was hard too when it had the weight of Isaac and Colin and Richard and Jan Maas and fucking everyone thrown in behind it.

Each gentle order that Jamie would follow without thought any other night grated on his nerves, sounded like alarm bells ringing loud and clear in his mind that his friends and his dad were right, that Roy was taking the piss and having a laugh about it whenever Jamie wasn’t around to see. Because honestly, who the fuck was Roy to tell Jamie what to do? Maybe he just liked seeing Jamie make a fool of himself, tripping over himself to do what he’s told and be a good little lad just because Roy Kent told him too. Maybe he just liked seeing Jamie being fucking pathetic.

He didn’t. Jamie knew he didn’t. He’d given Jamie a whole speech before about how Roy cared about him and wanted him to take care of himself. He knew that Roy wasn’t doing all of this specifically to be an arsehole. But the other voices were louder, and there were more of them crowing in his ears. Knowing and believing were two different things, and Roy was just one voice in his head being drowned out by all the others sneering and laughing. The stupid little thought of What if getting bigger and louder and spiralling through Jamie’s head like an avalanche. It was all bullshit. Everything about it was fucking bullshit.

Jamie lashes out when he’s upset, everyone knows it. He gets backed into a corner and acts like a feral fucking dog would, biting and snapping and gnashing his teeth. And upset was probably the best way to describe what Jamie was feeling. A horrible roiling mixture of humiliation and anger bubbling up in his chest while he stewed silently on his phone and Roy made dinner in the kitchen.

Jamie wasn’t a toddler. He wasn’t a fucking kid that needed to be taken care of, didn’t need Roy to cook him fucking dinner and tuck him into bed at night. He didn’t even ask for Roy to do any of those things. He just did them. The lads wouldn’t have anything to fucking laugh about if Roy just laid off. Maybe is was misplaced anger, it was probably misplaced anger, but Jamie didn’t have anywhere else to misplace it but at Roy.

He stays quiet through dinner, brutalising the stupid fucking pasta Roy made with his fork but not really eating it. He wasn’t that hungry, too busy feeling fucking angry and miserable. Roy chides him for it of course, which just makes it worse.

“Stop playing with your fucking food and eat.” Roy orders, glaring at Jamie across the table. Jamie, in his infinite wisdom, decides to stab at his food again just to be a prick.

“Or what grandad?” He snaps. Roy rolled his eyes, eating his own pasta all calm and infuriating like.

“I’ll fucking force feed you If I have too. Cut it out.” Roy replied, not rising to Jamie’s clearly laid bait like a fucking twat on top of making everything fucking worse with that stupid threat. He could already hear the fucking lads crowing about it and it hadn’t even happened yet. Wasn’t going to happen either, because Jamie decided then and there, he’d rather bite Roy’s fingers clean off then ever let the prick feed him. Roy, oblivious to the rising outburst buzzing under Jamie’s skin, just watches him expectantly, an eyebrow raised as if to say get on with it.

Jamie decided he was fucking over sitting at the table. He was over sitting across from Roy who was so convinced that he knew what was fucking best and over the stupid fucking pasta dish and over his own fucking thoughts. He pushed back from his chair and fled the scene before Roy even had the chance the grouse at him to sit the fuck down.

He didn’t go far. He just stomped up the stairs to his room, slammed the door shout louder than Roy would ever let him get away with. Jamie knew he’d probably follow, probably ask Jamie what his fucking problem was and demand he stop being a fucking prick, and he was ready for it. He wanted a fight. Fighting with Roy was easy. It was better than wrestling with his own thoughts, in any case. Roy at least was a tangible target.

Roy was also nothing if not predictable. He took the bait this time, footsteps lumbering up the stairs after Jamie, still fucking calm (because that was the kind of thing Jamie just knew in his gut, If someone’s steps were angry or calm or drunk), walking at a normal pace up the stairs. He knocked once, a heavy-handed warning, before he pushed the door open without waiting for an answer.

“what the fuck is wrong with you tonight?” He asked, voice gruff and head tilted to the side, as openly concerned as Roy’s face could fucking get. Not angry, not even fucking annoyed. He was looking at Jamie the same way he looked at Phoebe, when she was losing her shit about something small to them but big to her. Taking it seriously of course, but prepared for whatever to come out of her mouth to be ridiculous. Prepared to handle him with kid gloves.

“I’m just fucking fine,” Jamie spat. He was angry. At the lads for saying all that shit, at Roy for doing all this shit, at himself for liking it enough to not stop it. He felt a bit like it was swallowing him whole, all that anger.

“Yeah, that’s real convincing,” Roy replied, crossing his arms over his chest and rolling his eyes. Jamie can see the look, knows what it means, because he’s seen it before. Here he goes, the look said, having a fucking temper tantrum like a little bitch.

“Look would you just fuck off?!” Jamie snapped. It felt audible, like he was some kind of windup doll that had been twisted tighter and tighter and tighter before finally being let loose to cause destruction in his wake. Like he had one of those creepy fucking monkeys with the symbols in his head, crashing them together with frantic glee as the dam in his chest broke and all those gross, horrible feelings he’d been collecting all day spilled out of his mouth like venom. “I know you’ve got some fucking complex going on, but you ain’t actually my fucking minder and I don’t actually have to listen to a fucking word you say.”

“I haven’t got a fucking complex” Roy snapped back, almost reflexively, hackles effectively raised. Jamie watched his face, the confusion like he didn’t know what the fuck was happening dance across it. Maybe he didn’t, he probably didn’t. Roy was fucking clueless sometimes. “I’m trying to help you fucking muppet.”

“Who said I needed your fucking help?!” Jamie shouted. Roy’s face changed then, the concern and confusion slipping off and switching to something more akin to a blank, unimpressed expression. It was forceful and practiced, a mask to hide something else.

“No one’s making you stay here Jamie.” Roy said through gritted teeth, voice calm in a dangerous way. Like he was reminding himself in his head over and over not to yell at Jamie. “You’ve got your own fucking house. If you’re here, you follow my rules, but no one is making you stay.”

It was like all the anger Jamie had been cradling in his palms evaporated at that. No one was making him stay. Roy wasn’t making him stay. Wasn’t going to stop him, if he went for the fucking door and didn’t come back. For some reason, even though he’d just been screaming at Roy to fuck off about all of it, it made Jamie’s chest squeeze with uncertainty. He didn’t actually want to leave, didn’t actually want to not be around Roy just because he was angry at him. Stubbornness won out, in the end, because Jamie wasn’t that good at making the right decisions or admitting when he was wrong. He went for the fucking door and Roy didn’t stop him.

Jamie hadn’t been back to his own house for more than a few hours at a time in months. It smelt kind of dusty, and his fridge was empty save for his collection of condiments. Everything was unmoved from the last time he was there, right down to the single mug left out on the sink that he’d rinsed but never got around to washing before he’d gone back to Roy’s. It all felt kind of lifeless.

Roys house was changing all the time. Phoebe’s drawings and Jamie’s weekly meal plans rotating their time on the stainless-steel doors of the fridge, Jamie’s clothes being scattered around the living room because he knew it pissed Roy off when he just chucked his jumper over the back of the couch instead of putting it back in his room. Jamie’s house felt like a museum, an ode to the preservation of his loneliness.

The whole reason Jamie started hanging around Roy’s so much in the first place was because he didn’t like being alone. He never had, being alone was quiet and still and fucking awful. Jamie liked being around people, and Roy had never seemed to mind having him around. It was only natural they gravitated towards each other, symbolic or whatever the word was like those birds and the fuzzy sort-of-but-not-really a bear things, until Jamie went and fucked it all up. He’d made his bed though, yelling at Roy like that and storming out of the house, so now he had no fucking choice but to lie in it.

It wasn’t hard to keep himself distracted, at least at first. He ordered takeaway, and ate alone in his living room on his couch which felt wrong and strange, Roy’s rules about only eating at the table ingrained into him, but he shoved the feeling way down. He was an adult, it was his goddamn house, he could do what he liked. And he liked to eat greasy fish and chips on his fucking couch while he watched the telly.

Jamie was an expert at filling his nights with mindless scrolling and video games and obscure several hour-long videos he found in youtube that went into deep dives of shows he’d never even heard of. It was a routine he’d perfected over the years of being an insomniac. He got about half way through some guys recap of Pretty Little Liars before he felt the soft edges of sleepiness creep up on him. It was only half past ten, but suddenly his eyes were stinging, dropping closed against his will and the guys voice was going in one ear and out the other, he blamed Roy for that too. He didn’t want to sleep on the couch though, especially not listening to whatever batshit insane things happened on the show because then Jamie was bound to end up having weird dreams about it. So, he’d dragged himself up the stairs of still, dusty house and into the bedroom.

That’s where the problems started. First, Jamie’s room was wrong. Which was a ridiculous thing to say about his own room in his own house, but he’d gotten used to his room at Roy’s house. The furniture was all different, the bed was in the wrong spot, the sheets were boring white instead of the blue he’d picked out himself and they didn’t smell like the lavender laundry detergent Roy liked so much, his shark wasn’t even there, because Jamie had stormed out of the house without thinking to grab a single one of his things. It felt like he was staying at a hotel, but had left his bag at the airport. Which he’d done before, and knew from experience he could deal with it. But it didn’t end there, because the universe was out to get Jamie.

Then, it was too quiet. Even once he was wrapped up under the hotel-esque comforter that was on his bed, it was eerily quiet. Keeley had gotten Jamie a noise machine to go along with the diffuser she’d set up in his room. it had a bunch of different settings, and they’d spent like an hour messing around with it before Roy had come upstairs and told Keeley off for keeping Jamie awake and made her go downstairs. It had whale noises and beach sounds and white noise and soft melodic music. But even without it, Jamie was used to having other people in the house. He was used to hearing Roy wander around downstairs turning off the lights and closing the blinds, or hearing Keeley bouncing around in the bathroom having me-time. His house wasn’t like that. It was just him, and the ambient noise of an empty house.

After that, it was the root cause of this entire mess showing its fucking face again. Jamie couldn’t sleep. He was fucking tired, his eyes were burning and his thoughts were fuzzy, but it didn’t matter how long he laid there in the foreign, quiet room that belonged to him but also kind of didn’t anymore, he couldn’t fall asleep. It was stupid, it was fucking pathetic, but Jamie couldn’t sleep. Not without Roy or Keeley tucking him in and telling him a story or playing with his hair. Not without someone else there, warm and solid and real next to him so the quiet wasn’t so fucking quiet and the loneliness wasn’t so fucking lonely. He didn’t even have his fucking shark, which was the worst part of it all.

He’d done it to himself though, and his stubbornness wasn’t going to have him running back to Roy’s with his tail between his legs yet. Maybe tomorrow, or in a week, when it got unbearable and he knew Roy wouldn’t gloat about being right because he’d be more focused on telling Jamie off for being stubborn. Tomorrow felt like forever away, lying in bed alone going out of his mind, and his heart felt funny thinking about Roy. He’d been a dick at dinner. He’d just been angry. Thinking about it made him feel worse though. So, he’d never been so fucking happy to hear his doorbell ring after midnight.

He didn’t know who it was, didn’t care at all if he were being honest as he made his way down the stairs at the speed of fucking light. There weren’t many people who would be ringing his door bell after midnight these days. No one good anyway, if he were to think about it. But It could’ve been a particularly polite burglar and he would’ve been happy for the company, the way his night was going. So, it was a pleasant surprise when he opened the door and it was Keeley.

She looked pretty, in a shimmery gold dress and strappy heels that let Jamie know she’d been out clubbing. Keeley and Roy were both kind of boring about clubs these days though, even if Keeley pretended she wasn’t. She still liked a good party though, so Jamie supposed she could’ve been at some fancy event or another, maybe for work or maybe for pleasure instead of a club. Roy had told him where Keeley was supposed to be that night in the car home, but Jamie hadn’t been listening.

“Hey babe,” she greeted, smiling brightly at him. She didn’t wait for him to let her in, breezing past him into his living room like she owned the place, kicking her heels off while she went and flopping back onto the couch. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why exactly Keeley was there. She had no way of knowing that Jamie wasn’t at Roy’s house without him telling her.

“What, Roy go and tattle on me?” Jamie couldn’t help but sneer. He wasn’t over it yet, even if he was lonely about it. Keeley gave him a warning look, a carefully crafted your-being-a-dickhead look he could read well, not harsh but a little bit annoyed. It was a fair look; it wasn’t like Keeley was the reason everyone was being twats.

“No, he asked me to check on you.” She said, patting the couch beside her and beckoning Jamie over with her shiny nails. They were painted a glittery gold to match her dress. “He figured you wouldn’t be sleeping.”

“Figured right.” Jamie replied, wandering over and joining Keeley on the couch like she demanded. “He didn’t need to bother you about it.”

“He didn’t bother me.” Keeley said, manoeuvring Jamie easily once he was beside her to be laying with his head in her lap, his cheek pressed into the rubbery fabric of her dress and her sparkly nails scratching through his hair. Jamie went easily, because he was tired, and he was lonely, and maybe he was a bit pathetic too. “I wanted to see if you were alright myself.”

“Me? I’m fucking peachy.” Jamie mumbled, and didn’t bother to hide the bitterness in his voice. Keeley had a way of making Jamie talk even when he thought he didn’t want too, maybe it was because she liked to listen, when she had the time. “Spent all day dealing with the fucking lads obsessing about Roy’s fucking curfew and then I had to deal with the twat himself but I’m fucking grand.”

Keeley hummed, drawing circles across his scalp. She smelt like sweat and her fancy fruity perfume. Jamie hoped roy hadn’t dragged her away from something fun just because he thought Jamie was fucking inept. Wouldn’t be fair.

“That’s what’s got you so worked up then?” She asked, soft and curious. “The boys knowing about the curfew?”

He stayed quiet for a minute, revelling in the sudden absence of silence that Keeley’s arrival had brought. He wanted to muster up some indignation, that Roy thought he could just call Keeley and she’d swoop in and make everything better, but it was hard to when her hands were in his hair and her voice was in his ears and the quiet wasn’t so quiet anymore.

“They were just being dickheads.” He admitted eventually. It all seemed less serious now. It still twinged with hurt, like poking a bruise, but it didn’t feel like the end of the world so much anymore. They were just being dickheads, Jamie used to be a dickhead to them all the time “Didn’t mean nothing by it.”

“But it upset you.” Keeley said. Didn’t ask, because it was a bit obvious that it had upset Jamie from all the yelling he’d done earlier. He wondered if Roy told her what he said, or just that he’d had a fit and left the house in a hurry. It was fucking ridiculous to act like that about it, not being able to handle a bit of teasing without flying off the handle.

“Not their faults I’m being a little bitch about this,” Jamie mumbled. It wasn’t. It wasn’t their fault he couldn’t take the fucking joke. Wasn’t Roy’s either, if he were being honest, but it’s easier to take things out on Roy than the lads. Keeley pinched his ear lightly.

“Don’t say that.” She admonished. “You’re allowed to be upset about things. You said they were being dickheads?”

“They just wouldn’t leave it alone.” Jamie mumbled, turning to bury his face in Keeley’s lap. He felt a bit stupid, crying to Keeley because the boys were picking on him, but not stupid enough not to. He didn’t really care, if he was just proving everybody right. He missed his bed and his shark and fucking Roy reading him to sleep, and now he was too tired to be angry about it. It was nice having Keeley there again, miles better than lying alone in his room. “kept making jokes about me being a kid. Acting like I was fucking stupid or something.”

“I’m sorry,” Keeley whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead. It was sticky with lip gloss. Before he got a chance to ask her what the fuck she was apologising for she continued. Probably saw the look on his face. “it’s a sympathetic sorry.”

“Oh,” He mumbled. His eyes were itchy. Keeley hummed again. Jamie was tired, and he’d had a shit day, but it was nice having Keeley with him. “I yelled at Roy.”

“I heard,” she said, scratching her nails through his hair. And because Keeley was ever the mind reader, she added on. “he’s not upset at you. He’s just worried, he didn’t know what was wrong.”

“Didn’t get around to telling him in between telling him to fuck off and running out of the house.” Jamie mumbled; a bit ashamed of himself now. Keeley laughed a little, sympathetic and soothing. Jamie didn’t want to be at his house anymore. He barely even knew what point he was trying to prove with it. That he didn’t need to be taken care of? “I don’t want the lads to think I’m stupid because of this.”

“They don’t think you’re stupid.” Keeley assured him, giving him another sticky lip gloss kiss on his temple “They took a joke too far, but that doesn’t mean they actually think any less of you.”

“Isaac said I was basically a toddler.” He muttered. That one had hurt a bit, because Isaac joining in on the joke meant everyone followed not long after, thanks to his stupid captain powers.

“Well Isaac was being a dickhead.” Keeley said with a flippant little of shrug. “you’re not weak or stupid or a baby for having people who care about you and want to take care of you.”

“Okay.” Jamie said, because when she put it like it made sense. Keeley was good about explaining things in a way that made sense. And, because Jamie was stubborn, but he wasn’t dumb about things once he knew what he wanted, he asked. “Can we go home now?”

Keeley smiled sweetly, smoothing a hand over his hair again.

“Yeah,” she said “we can go home now.”

Roy wasn’t going to drag Jamie back to the house by his ear, no matter how much he fucking wanted too. It was the first thing he told himself, when Jamie stormed out, after the initial internal monologue of various swears had died down enough for him to think. Jamie wasn’t a fucking hostage, and Roy couldn’t keep him under lock and key. He did text Keeley though, and asked her to swing by Jamie’s house on her way back from the PR mixer bullshit she was at just to make sure he was okay. Keeley had replied with a string of emoji’s that Roy had deciphered to mean that she’d do it, and then it was just a matter of waiting to hear back from her that Jamie was safe.

Roy was kind of shit at waiting though, especially when he was worried. He tried to just read his book and wait to hear back, but that ended up with him with a book open in his lap staring at his phone willing it to ring. So, then he decided to stress clean, because at least that was productive. Phoebe’s room needed to be tidied anyway, and he’d been meaning to strip the beds and change the sheets for a while. That’s what he told himself anyway.

He didn’t know what Jamie’s problem was. He’d been fucking fine that morning, a proper chipper dickhead singing along to the radio on the drive in, but then by lunch his face was thunderous and he was snapping at anyone who tried to talk to him. Roy had tried to figure it out, listening in to the locker room conversation to hear any whisper about what might have caused Jamie’s foul fucking mood, but everyone else was in good spirits. He thought Jamie might tell him once they got home, but instead Jamie had just seemed to retreat into himself and make himself even angrier.

Roy had been anticipating the fight, he’d done all the fucking mindfulness bullshit Dr Fieldstone told him to practice when he felt himself getting frustrated or hurt, he’d kept calm and didn’t lash out even when Jamie had been yelling at him about having a fucking complex whatever the fuck that meant, he’d been ready for it all. He hadn’t been anticipating Jamie leaving after, but maybe he should have. It was too late now, because Jamie had left and now Roy was stuck dusting his fucking cabinets waiting to hear back from Keeley to see if he’d at least made it back to his house okay.

He’d stripped the beds and remade them, washed up all the dishes from dinner, reorganised his cutlery drawer and then immediately switched it back to how it was originally and dusted off any surface he could his hands on by the time Keeley’s car pulled into his driveway, the headlights bathing Roy’s dimly lit living room in bright white light through the windows. He’d forgotten about his phone, which was a good thing because when he checked it to see if Keeley has messaged him before she came through the door, the only text he had received was one from her saying that she was on her way back with no other news attached. Whatever frustration he had about that was quickly abated, when it wasn’t just Keeley who came stumbling out of the car.

Jamie looked no worse for wear, holding onto Keeley’s hand and stumbling behind her sleepily, rubbing at his eyes. Tired, of course, awake way past his fucking bedtime, but not hurt or angry the way he had been. Whatever dark fucking cloud had settled over him that afternoon had dissipated. Roy doesn’t bother to act like he didn’t know they’d arrived, opening the door as Keeley is trying to guide Jamie up the porch steps. He takes over for her, because he’d rather she didn’t twist her fucking ankle trying to wrangle Jamie in those death trap fucking shoes of hers. He grabs Jamie’s forearm, steadying him when he stumbles up the step. Jamie blinks at him blearily for a second with a put out little pout, and Keeley laughs.

“He fell asleep in the car,” She explained “he wasn’t happy when I woke him up to come inside.”

“I was sleeping,” Jamie muttered petulantly at her. Roy huffed in amusement, which turned Jamie’s attention back to him. He pouted at Roy, eyes clearing up just enough for him to demand. “I want to go to bed now.”

“Yeah alright, hold your fucking horses.” Roy replied gruffly, tugging Jamie along inside. Getting him up the stairs to his room was going to be a fucking challenge, but Roy didn’t mind. He was just happy the twat was back and fucking fine. If he could, Roy would just carry him up to bed, but while Jamie was lighter than you’d expect for someone of his size, he wasn’t exactly a fucking feather and Roy’s knee barely let him get himself up the stairs on a good day.

Keeley abandoned him to his task, probably to get out of her dress and into something more comfortable, but Roy was fine with that too. She wouldn’t be much help trying to get Jamie up the stairs, if anything she’d just stand at the bottom and laugh at the pair of them. They’re about half way up, Jamie half leaning on Roy and half on the railing, only barely awake enough to keep his feet moving forward, when Jamie starts talking.

“‘m sorry I yelled at you.” he mumbled, blinking at Roy with bloodshot eyes. The words are slurred together, but Roy understands them well enough. “didn’t mean to be an arsehole. Was just upset.”

“It’s okay.” Roy replied, when Jamie didn’t continue to explain why he’d been upset in the first place, because he’d been far worse to Jamie just because he was upset plenty of times before. They were both working on it, sometimes they slipped up. “Next time though, tell me that. I might be able to help.”

Jamie wrinkled his nose, and Roy was worried for a second he might try and fight him on it, but instead he just shakes his head a bit sadly, falling to press his forehead into Roy’s shoulder.

“mkay.” he mumbled, and didn’t say anything after.

He’s not quite asleep, when Roy does finally manage to get him up the stairs and into bed. He’s not quite awake either, only barely clinging to consciousness as Roy tucks the blankets up around him. Keeley reappears, fresh from a shower and in her own pyjamas. She tucks herself up on one side of Jamie, rubbing at his arms soothingly. It’s not normally both of them in the room with Jamie, even if they’re both home. One of them will handle Jamie upstairs while the other cleans up downstairs, it was their little routine. but that routine was shot for the night anyway, so Roy didn’t mind much when he tried to leave and Jamie held his wrist to get him to stay with a little whine muffled into his pillow.

Jamie is out before Roy is even settled on his other side, but neither he nor Keeley move. They just sit like that for a while, listening to Jamie’s breathing even out while he’s sandwiched between them. Keeley keeps running her palms over his arms and Roy stays silent and sturdy while Jamie leans on him.

“He told me why he was upset,” Keeley whispered eventually, after enough time had passed that Jamie was well and truly lapsed into unconsciousness. She smoothed a hand through Jamie’s hair, nails scratching lightly at his scalp. Even in his sleep Jamie made a content little noise at it. “The boys were making fun of him for having a bedtime.”

“What the fuck did they say to him?” Roy asked, the contentedness gone and replaced with hot irritation that was bordering closely to anger. Keeley shrugged, eyes focused on Jamie, holding him a bit protectively.

“He didn’t say,” she said “just that they were making him feel stupid. He said they didn’t mean anything by it, but he was pretty upset.”

Of fucking course, the team had said something to Jamie about it. They were all fucking busy bodies who couldn’t leave well enough the fuck alone. And of course, Jamie was upset by it, because Jamie had enough fucking issues around the concept of being taken care of without someone prodding at him about it making him feel like whatever progress he had made was in the wrong direction. and of fucking course, this was Roy’s problem now, because he’d gone and become a coach and now, he was the adult supervision on the fucking playground. Roy growled, not loud enough to disturb Jamie, but enough to verbalise his frustration at least a little bit.

“I’ll talk to them.” He decided. He kept the, if he doesn’t fucking murder them first, to himself.

Chapter Text

Jamie wakes up to the sound of Roy and Keeley whisper-arguing in the kitchen. He doesn’t know why they always try to hide the fact they’re arguing from him, considering it’s usually about stupid shit like what to have for dinner and what movie to watch and it doesn’t bother him when that’s all it is. But still, they always make an effort to keep their arguing quiet and away from Jamie. The thing about Roy and Keeley is that they’re not very good at whispering, and neither of them seem to know it, so Jamie usually hears when they’re arguing anyway.

He can’t hear it very well from his room. the door is open, but the kitchen is all the way down the stairs. At first, he assumes they’re whisper-arguing about what to have for breakfast the same way they always do. Keeley likes to skip breakfast, and Roy has a conniption every time she tries to do it at his house, but then he catches his name.

Jamie was comfortable in his bed, in his room. Roy had pulled the comforter up around his ears and tucked Blahaj into his arms sometime through the night. It was warm under the covers, and his sheets smelt like home, and he was still tired. But he heard his name. Roy and Keeley were whisper arguing in the kitchen, and it had something to do with Jamie. He was crawling out of bed before he could second guess himself.

He sat himself at the top of the stairs to listen. Roy had a fancy modern house just the same as Jamie and Keeley did with barely any walls. Between their terrible attempts at whispering and the open concept, Jamie could hear what they were saying perfectly clearly, hidden away behind the safety of the stair rails. Of course, he wasn’t that hidden. If Roy or Keeley were to glance up, they’d see him spying, but they seemed pretty absorbed whisper yelling at each other so Jamie deemed himself safe enough.

“He just said that they were making fun of him.” Keeley said, and oh, they were talking about last night. Jamie probably should have expected that. Running off and making Keeley bring him home like he was fucking stray cat that got out. The only reason Jamie could guess Roy didn’t ream him out as soon as he’d gotten home was because Jamie was practically asleep standing up.

“that’s it?” Roy asked, sounding annoyed as he aggressively cut up fruit “nothing else?”

“He said that Isaac called him a toddler,” Keeley said, sipping at her coffee as she leaned on the counter. She was still in her pyjamas. Roy was dressed though, probably because they had to be at the club for training later. Jamie would need to get ready too once he stopped spying.

“a fucking toddler?” Roy asked, pausing his aggressive chopping to look at Keeley incredulously.

“that’s what he said.” Keeley sighed

“that’s not even a creative fucking insult.” Roy muttered, continuing to brutalise the strawberry on the cutting board. “why couldn’t they just leave it the fuck alone?”

“I don’t know.” Keeley said, “they’re idiots. But you’ll talk to them.”

“I’m going to do a lot more than just fucking talking to them.” Roy said, finally moving on to massacring a new piece of strawberry, tossing the finished one in a bowl. “I’ll put their heads through a fucking wall.”

“I don’t think Ted would appreciate you concussing half his starting team.” Keeley replied, sounding just a bit fond as she smiled into her mug. Jamie would admit, he was a little bit confused. He’d assumed the angry whispering would be about him, trying to decide among themselves what to do with him after he’d thrown a fit and run off last night, not about what the team had said to him.

In hindsight, maybe Jamie had been a bit dramatic about it all. He’d been embarrassed, then annoyed, which had turned to angry, and they weren’t being that mean but it hurt all the same and Jamie never handled hurt very well. If Jamie just asked them to stop, like properly asked them to stop with his words instead of just snapping at them and playing right into their fucking hand, they would have. They’re good lads, his team. Of course, Jamie hadn’t thought of that at the time, and each time he snapped at them to fuck off it just fuelled their fucking fire. By the end of the day, he was itching for a fight and Roy was right there in front of him. It wasn’t the teams fault he’d gone and taken it out on Roy. He didn’t want them getting in trouble for something they didn’t even mean to do.

“I don’t need you to talk to them.” Jamie said, effectively ruining his hiding spot as both Keeley and Roy whipped their heads around to look at him.

“How long have you fucking been there?” Roy asked, annoyed but not properly. Annoyed in the way he got whenever something surprised him. He was an old man like that, couldn’t handle things jumping out at him unexpectedly or he’d go into cardinal arrest or something.

“Doesn’t matter,” Jamie replied flippantly, deciding since his hiding spot was compromised anyway, he might as well head the rest of the way down the stairs and get some breakfast. “I don’t need you to talk to them. I’ll deal with it myself.”

“oh, like you did last night?” Roy muttered with a roll of his eyes; sarcasm thick enough for Jamie to hear it clearly. That earned him a smack on the arm from Keeley and snort from Jamie, because it was a little bit deserved and he could admit that.

“Wasn’t my finest moment.” he conceded, earning a huff of agreement from Roy and a little smile of encouragement from Keeley “but I’m serious, I don’t need you to talk to them. They were just giving me shit, not like I actually told them it was bothering me.”

“babe, you don’t have to make excuses for them.” Keeley offered, and Jamie shook his head.

“it’s not that,” He said, as Roy offered him the bowl of cut up fruit wordlessly “‘m not making excuses for ‘em, but they didn’t know it was making me feel bad. Don’t think they deserve to have their heads knocked about just cause they ain’t mind readers.”

“Yes, they fucking do.” Roy muttered, putting the knife in the sink along with the cutting board. Jamie ignored him.

“I’ll talk to ‘em myself.” He promised “you know what they’re like Roy, they didn’t mean it. They won’t do it again if I ask ‘em not too.”

“and if they do?” Roy asked, raising a bushy fucking caterpillar eyebrow at Jamie like he knew something. He didn’t of course, because Jamie was right. The boys had been dickheads yesterday, it had pissed Jamie off, but they weren’t dickheads by nature. They wouldn’t keep the jokes going if Jamie told them it actually bothered him.

“Then you can knock em around if you really want too.” Jamie said with a shrug, popping one of the strawberries in his mouth, because there wasn’t really talking Roy out of his penitent for violent conflict resolution once he had his mind set on it. “but you ain’t gonna have too., and you can’t do it until after the game this week.”

“Fine.” Roy huffed, turning around to make himself a coffee on his stupidly fancy machine. Keeley and Jamie looked at each other behind his back, and Jamie tried not to laugh too loudly at the look Keeley had on her face about it all.

Roy could at best be described as over protective of his loved ones. Or, by testimony of his sisters ex, he could at worst be described as fucking deranged. Roy liked that description, he liked being able to put the fear of fucking god into the very fucking souls of the people who made the mistake of fucking around with the select few people Roy had decided to care about. Unfortunately for him, he couldn’t do that to the team. Not when Jamie had made him fucking promise he wouldn’t do anything in the car over at least 30 times.

Roy hadn’t heard what the team had said to him, and Jamie had remained stubbornly tight lipped about it all, even when Roy asked him point blank what had happened over breakfast. He insisted it was stupid, and that he’d just been overreacting. Which, Roy didn’t believe for a fucking second, because an infuriating fact about Jamie that Roy had learnt was that he tended to under react to things more than he overreacted. Not even Keeley had been able to get Jamie to say anything more about it though, even with promises of a spa day and movie night and other nice things they both knew Jamie liked if he talked. The twat was loyal to a fucking fault, even when the team didn’t deserve it.

So instead, Roy was left fucking seething quietly on the sidelines, trying to figure out how the fuck he was actually supposed to fix this without making it all worse. The only thing he really could do was wait. Someone would slip up, and say something where Roy could hear it eventually. In the meantime, he was making the team run suicides under the guise of conditioning. Jamie, the prick, was fine. Everyone else was a different story. It made Roy feel a little better about it all, to see Jamie prancing around his teammates gloating about the fact he was the only one left upright by the time Roy shouted whistle at them all.

Roy watches them all like a fucking hawk. If Ted or Beard notice, they don’t say anything. They’d seen the mood Jamie was in yesterday, and they knew that Roy would handle it. None of them would say it out loud, but they each had their own players that they took point on, and everyone knew that Jamie was Roy’s player more than he was Teds. So Roy watched him bounce around the pitch, looking for any signs of the lads fucking with him again. He didn’t find any. Jamie seemed fine. In a much better mood than the day before at least.

There was something else there though. A slumped slant to his shoulders, a couple of stuttered steps here and there, a jittery hand fucking with the stupid slit in his eyebrow whenever he had a moment to spare. Jamie was tired. It surprised Roy just as much as it didn’t. He’d gotten Jamie used to going to bed early, even if he’d had a bit of a lie in that morning, it was bound to throw him off when he had such a late night. No one else could tell, but Roy had gotten used to all of Jamie’s little tics and habits. He was easy to read, once you knew how too.

Jamie didn’t let it stop him of course. He still ran fucking circles around everyone else and matched their playful glares with cocky smirks. The tiredness was an undercurrent, something that was creeping up on him slowly. It would get worse as the day went on and his energy ran out, but for the time being, there was nothing to be done about it really. It was something to be noted, and dealt with if it needed to be dealt with. It was a waiting game, the same way last night had been, the same way Jamie talking to the boys himself was. Roy fucking hated waiting.

It was kind of like watching a train go off a cliff from the side of the tracks. You can see the cliff long before you see the train just standing there, and you can think about what might happen if a train were to come along, but by the time you do see the actual train, it’s not like you can do anything about it before it’s already careening off the cliff and all that thinking you did doesn’t mean a fucking thing. He didn’t have to wait long.

By lunch time, Jamie had well and truly flagged. Whatever energy he had managed to scrounge up from his disrupted night had left him, blinking slow and knuckling at his eyes every now and again like they stung to keep open. It was no longer just Roy who noticed it. The team did too.

Roy wasn’t sitting with them. He barely ever did, even when Jamie tried to demand his presence via whining and pouting as if that would help him get his way. Roy usually sat with Beard in silence, or in his office on his own in silence. Today he was sitting with Beard, which was why he was around to see the team descend on Jamie at the first sign of weakness like fucking vultures.

“What’s the matter boyo?” Colin teased, when Jamie yawned so wide his jaw cracked. “up past your bedtime?”

It earned a round of laughter from the table, and a slow, deliberate breath from Jamie. Roy watched him count them out in his head and everything. Dr Sharon had taught it to him, which Roy only knew because Dr Sharon had taught Roy the same thing.

“Would you just stop?” Jamie asked when he’d counted to ten in his head and breathed in deep through his nose enough that he wouldn’t bite anyone’s head off, still annoyed and verging on overtired. He wasn’t quite looking at Colin, or any of the other lads for that matter, glassy eyes trained on the clock on the wall opposite him. He didn’t like to look at people, when he was being sincere. It was easier not too, made his thoughts less jumbled up in his brain. At least that’s what he told Roy.

The laughter faltered. Sam’s brow furrowed; Dani inched just the slightest bit closer to Jamie so their knees were pressed together under the table. Colin’s expression shifted from smarmy and teasing to confused in an instant. Jan Maas said something once at a movie night, about it being easy to tell when Jamie didn’t like a joke because he would cry. Actually, Jan’s exact words had been calling Jamie a cry baby, and Ted had needed to break up a fight between the two of them about it. Jamie had been mortified, and insisted Jan Maas was just being a dickhead and that it wasn’t true.

It wasn’t of course, Jamie didn’t go crying every time someone was a little bit mean to him or he’d have run out of fucking tears by now, but his face would do this thing when he didn’t like a joke, when it struck whatever chord in his mind that connected to the tangled web of fucked up shit he didn’t remember or ignored about himself, and he’d look so fucking sad he might as well have been crying. He had that look now.

“Sorry Jamie,” Colin backtracked quickly, looking shamefaced at the prospect of being the reason Jamie looked like that. Good, Roy thought, he deserved to feel a little bad. “I was just joking,”

“Yeah well it’s not fucking funny is it?” Jamie snapped, looking at Colin finally. Everyone seemed surprised by the venom in it, recoiling from the tone like he’d reached out and smacked them. Jamie didn’t really speak to people like that anymore, full of anger and resentment and blatant vitriol. The anger didn’t last of course. Jamie wasn’t angry by nature. He didn’t hold onto it the same way Roy did. He sighed, practically deflating, melting into the table with his head in his hands “sorry. ‘M sorry, I’m tired.”

“Don’t apologise bruv,” Isaac insisted “you’re allowed to be a prick if we’re being pricks first.”

Jamie snorted, his face still hidden in his arms and sounding a touch delirious about it all. Roy had known he’d be tired, but he hadn’t realised how hard it was actually going to hit Jamie. Though he supposed it made sense, Jamie had spent the better part of his life fighting a losing battle with insomnia, and then he’d gotten a small taste of what it was like to be well rested only for the rug to be yanked out from under him so suddenly it was probably sending whatever bits of his brain were responsible for whatever chemicals made you well rested in the first place into a fucking frenzy. Roy didn’t know the exact science behind it, or even if there was any science behind it, but it sounded right.

“You were being fucking arseholes.” Jamie mumbled. Loose lipped in the way only sleep deprivation could bring out “I don’t even get why it’s fucking funny. I can’t sleep, never been able to cause no one fucking taught me how so now Roy’s trying to do it, why’s that funny?”

“It’s not, I guess.” Colin replied, brow furrowed in thought, face a little pinched at the gruesome truth in Jamie’s words. It didn’t take a genius to figure out Jamie’s upbringing wasn’t the most stable a kid could have, but it was easy to ignore until you were confronted with it in the blatant fashion of Jamie sharing something about it that ranged from strange to horrific that he thought was normal. Roy had experienced that particular sensation of whiplash plenty of times. It still caught him off guard whenever it happened. “I didn’t think about it like that.”

“Good thing you don’t have to think much to play football then or we’d be fucking doomed,” Jamie muttered, just a bit meanly. Roy would let it slide. He was tired and cranky about it, and it was the teams fault he was like that in the first place. They were just reaping what they sowed really. Colin looked put out by the insult, but he didn’t get a chance to retort.

“Alright then,” Isaac jumped in, before it turned into a proper squabble that Roy would probably need to get involved in, ever the responsible captain. He was a good pick. The best pick really, the way he managed to wrangle the team in a way Roy had never even felt the need to do “no more giving Jamie shit about curfew. We leave it alone, understood?”

There was a chorus of agreement from the table, and lunch continued on just like fucking that. It almost annoyed Roy more, that they all handled it like fucking grown ups just like Jamie said they would. All Jamie had to do was tell them to knock it off and they did, without a fucking question. They even said fucking sorry and everything. Roy didn’t know where he was supposed to put all the protective rage he was feeling when the team weren’t being blatant dickheads. One thing about preparing for the worst was that when the worst never came, you didn’t have anything to do with all your fucking preparations. Fucking arseholes. He almost missed when everyone was a dysfunctional mess and they were all at each other’s throats. Now look at them, talking through their fucking issues.

He’s snapped out of his thoughts by Beard speaking for the first time since either of them sat down. Much like Roy, he’d been eyeing the table of players wearily since the conversation had started. Now, he was still eyeing the table, but his gaze was specifically on Jamie, who was still slumped over. He looked fucking exhausted, eyes heavy lidded and gaze unfocused. Dani was prodding him gently in the cheek, trying to coax him into sitting up and eating, but Jamie only grumbled in response, batting his friends hand away and ducking his head back into the safety of his arms. He wasn’t in any fit state to be training. Roy could see it now, the twat trying to lift weights and dropping one on his foot because he fell asleep mid rep.

“You’ll handle it?” Was all Beard said, drawing both their attention away from Jamie briefly.

“I’ll handle it.” Roy confirmed.

Jamie was really fucking tired. Dani kept trying to get him to eat his lunch, and Sam was telling the table a story about some insane customers at Ola’s but he wasn’t really paying attention. He was more focused on trying to keep his eyes opened. It was bullshit that he was so tired. It wasn’t like he’d spent the entire night awake and running around. Keeley’d come and gotten him just after midnight, and he was asleep in his own bed not long after one. He’d even had a lie in that morning, on account of Roy sticking to his rule of no morning training if Jamie didn’t sleep enough.

Still, he could barely keep his eyes open and they were only half way through the day. They still had fucking team meditation and gym to go, before Jamie could actually go home and sleep. At least he hadn’t driven in, or else he’d be liable to crash his fucking car, but Roy’d get him home safe.

“mi amigo do you not want your lunch?” Dani asked, poking at Jamie’s cheek again.

“in a minute.” Jamie mumbled. Eating was so much effort, and Jamie didn’t have the energy. Dani shook his head.

“I do not think you have a minute,” he said “lunch will be over soon.”

Jamie groaned, much more dramatic than he really needed to be about having to eat his lunch, but he was tired. He was allowed to be dramatic about dumb things when he was tired. Still, Dani was right that he should probably eat something before they all got ushered out of the canteen and back to the locker room. So, he picked his head up off the table and started picking at his stupid chicken sandwich. It took entirely too much effort to actually eat it, but he managed it.

Everyone else started to pack up and head back before Jamie was even halfway finished, though that was probably Jamie’s own fault for spending half of lunch dozing instead of actually eating. The only person actually left in the canteen when Jamie was done was Roy, sitting at the table across from Jamie with his arms crossed and a weird look on his face.

“What?” Jamie asked, standing on slightly wobbly legs to throw him rubbish away. Not that wobbly, but enough that it’s got Roy jumping up to loom nearby just in case.

“You look like shit.” Roy said simply, grabbing Jamie by the elbow and steering him towards the door. Though, not the door that leads to the locker room, which is kind of where Jamie needs to be going. Roy doesn’t seem to notice that though, “come on.”

“oi, hang on.” Jamie said, tugging his elbow free from Roy’s grip “what’re you doing, I’ve got to go back to training.”

“No.” Roy replied, reaching out and taking Jamie’s wrist instead, resuming his leading Jamie through the halls. Jamie, despite his protests, didn’t fight it. He didn’t have the energy to actually fight Roy on whatever he was doing. He barely had the energy to be curious about it.

“the fuck do you mean no?”

“you’re about to keel over you twat,” Roy groused with a roll of his eyes “you’re not going to training like that.”

“well then where the fuck am I going?” Jamie asked, pouting as Roy steered him along. Roy grunted at him in response, not giving him a real actual answer, but Jamie could decipher it easily enough. Wait and Fucking See, he was saying. So, without much energy to be stubborn or curious, Jamie decided to do just that.

“Does Ted know your kidnapping me?” he asked, and Roy grunted again.

“I’m not kidnapping you,” he grumbled with a fond, if a little exasperated roll of his eyes “you’re a fucking adult, you can’t kidnap a fucking adult,”

“Does Ted know your abducting me then you fucking pedantist?” Jamie grumbled back. It came out a bit shorter than Jamie meant for it too, and he furrowed his brow at himself.

“that’s not a fucking word.” Roy replied, seemingly unaffected by Jamie’s tone. Jamie wrinkled his nose.

“Yes, it is.” he mumbled. He was sure it was a word. He knew that pedantic was a word, Beard had told him what it meant a couple days ago when he was trying to do a crossword on the bus. A Pendantist was someone that was pedantic. That sounded right.

“It really isn’t.” Roy said. and whatever, Roy could be fucking wrong in peace, Jamie was pretty sure he was right and that was good enough for him. It was good enough for Roy too, who seemed to have decided he’d had enough and dragging Jamie through the halls and stopped so abruptly that it threw Jamie off balance enough that he tipped forward unsteadily, the only thing stopping him from landing face first on the floor being Roy’s hand splayed on his chest.

“fucking hell Jamie.” Roy grunted, bearing most of Jamie’s weight for the moment it took him to get himself standing upright again, and maybe Roy hadn’t stopped abruptly actually. Maybe Jamie just hadn’t noticed he’d stopped, too spaced out thinking about words that may or may not be made up.

“sorry,” Jamie mumbled. Roy rolled his eyes, opening the door they’d stopped in front of.

“This is why you aren’t going to fucking training.” he said, pushing Jamie through the doorway with a demanding “In.”

Jamie went easily, allowing Roy to man handle him into the room Jamie recognised as Keeley’s old office. All of Keeley’s shit had been moved, taken with her when she went to start kjpr, but it still had the standard nelson road office furniture. A boring brown desk, some boring brown bookshelves, and a boring leather couch pushed up against the wall with two matching boring leather chairs. No one used this office now that Keeley was gone, as far as Jamie was aware.

“what’re we doing in here?” Jamie asked, twisting around the room to see if he was missing some kind of surprise. Maybe Keeley had come to visit or something. That would be mint, Keeley was great, and even though he’d seen her a couple days ago he always liked seeing her more. Instead of Keeley jumping out from under the desk or something though, Roy just huffed.

“You are taking a fucking nap.” he said. And Jamie took a minute to really hear it, because surely Roy couldn’t be fucking serious.

“No, the fuck I’m not.” He said, and it was an echo of an earlier argument they’d had that Jamie had already lost, so maybe that was a fucking sign of how this one was going to go too.

“Jamie, your exhausted.” Roy said, and it was fucking cheating that he was talking to Jamie all soft like the same way he does when he’s reading to him. It was cheating that he was fucking right too. Jamie was exhausted. His eyes were stinging and his head was all jumbled up. If not for Roy’s steady hand on his shoulder, he’d probably be swaying on the spot.

“I’ll miss training.” Jamie complained “I’m not missing training to take a fucking nap.”

“You’re not missing training,” Roy reasoned, and he was moving Jamie again, pushing him around until the back of his legs connected with the boring leather couch and suddenly Jamie was sitting down on it. It was comfortable. More comfortable than you’d expect from standard issue office furniture in any case. “you’re missing meditation, which you’d probably fucking fall asleep in anyway.”

“I don’t want to take a nap.” Jamie said. Whined, really; only vaguely aware of the fact he sounded like a petulant child. He didn’t have the energy to think too hard about it.

“I don’t care,” Roy replied, that same no-nonsense voice he uses when Jamie whinges about not wanting to go to bed when they’re at home “you either take a nap here, so when meditation is over and everyone moves to the gym you can join them without being a walking fucking safety hazard or I take you home right now and make you go to bed at seven instead of nine. You choose.”

Neither of those options sounded that fun, if Jamie were being honest. Going to bed at seven would be a fucking nightmare. That would mean Roy shuffling him off up the stairs almost as soon as dinner was done, no time to do anything fun like fucking around on his phone or watching a movie on the couch. But taking a nap was…well it didn’t actually sound that bad, the more Jamie thought about it. He was tired, and Jamie never liked meditation anyway, and Roy said if he took a nap now, he’d could go back to the gym with everyone else once he finished.

“Fine,” Jamie said with a dramatic huff, just so Roy didn’t get any ideas about Jamie being complacent or something. “I’ll take a stupid nap.”

“Good,” Roy said, sounding amused. Jamie had half a mind to tell him off for it, being amused at Jamie’s very intentional prickishness, but that would mean having to sit up, and Jamie wasn’t exactly sure when he’d laid down, but he knew that getting up required more energy than he currently had on hand. “Close your eyes you muppet.”

“No.” Jamie muttered mulishly, as his eyes closed anyway. He wasn’t really taking a nap, but it wouldn’t hurt to rest his eyes for a bit. Resting his eyes sounded better than meditation anyway. Roy laughed again, a quiet chuckle and then there was a hand in Jamie’s hair, and oh, that was nice.

“You’re a brat.” He said, but it wasn’t an insult. It didn’t sound like one anyway, too soft and fond to be anything but an endearment. You’re a grumpy old man, Jamie thought in response. Then, between one breath and the next, everything faded away except the sound of Roy’s breathing, and the feeling of his fingers scratching across Jamie’s scalp.

Jamie was back to his usual fucking self, after Roy made him take a nap. He’d woken up not long before meditation would be wrapping up, palming at his eyes and groaning lowly, and when Roy had asked him if he felt better now, he’d grumbled about how he didn’t sleep, and that he’d just been resting his eyes. Roy had rolled his eyes, and ordered him to fuck off to the gym to meet with the rest of the team so he could finish training. He could hear the fucker chatting excitedly with Dani while the pair of them made a game of who could sprint faster on the treadmills all the way from the coach’s office, the pair of them having more energy than they knew what to fucking do with. It was annoyingly endearing, and Roy was almost appalled to realise he was fucking smiling down at the paperwork he was trying to do hearing it.

“Handled?” Beard asked eventually, when Jamie’s crowing laughter filtered through the room when evidently, he won whatever competition he and Dani were in. Roy looked up to meet the other coach’s eye. He was reclined at his own desk, book open in his lap, head tilted just slightly to let Roy know he was listening to the chaos of the gym just as closely as Roy was.

“Yeah.” Roy confirmed. “I fucking handled it.”

Chapter Text

Jamie and Ted have this tradition. Jamie isn’t really sure how it started, he thinks he might have been badgering Roy in the coach’s office, trying to get him to teach Jamie how to make this pasta bake thing he’d made a couple nights before. Roy had been refusing, insistent that Jamie didn’t need to know how to make it because it wasn’t like he ever cooked anyway, and Ted had swooped in and offered to show Jamie how to make a pasta bake the lasso way. Jamie had accepted with the sole intention of spiting Roy by learning how to make Ted’s pasta bake in place of his.

So, he’d gone to Ted’s tiny flat near the pub, and Ted had taught him how to make a cheesy broccoli pasta bake. It was weird and awkward at first, because Jamie didn’t really know what to make of Ted, if he were being real honest. He didn’t think Ted liked him all that much, at least not enough to have Jamie in his kitchen, teaching him the trick to getting an evenly baked layer of cheese. Jamie didn’t really trust Ted either. He never just said what he meant, and it put Jamie on edge having to guess what the man wanted. But spite was a powerful motivator, and Jamie had really wanted to make Ted’s pasta bake for Roy just to prove that he could.

Ted was alright when he wasn’t trying to be a coach, Jamie found. He was a lot easier to deal with when he wasn’t trying to impart life lessons that made no sense onto Jamie through vague advice and complicated metaphors. He even had a lot of funny stories about being young and stupid, once you got past the howdy doody attitude he told them with. And Ted seemed to like Jamie better too, when he wasn’t a player and was just a guy in his kitchen that didn’t know how to cook and wanted to learn.

they’d even had a bit of fun, once they’d gotten past the weirdness of it all. Enough fun that when they were finished, and eating the spite filled pasta bake together at Ted’s kitchen table over coffee and juice because Jamie wasn’t allowed coffee after six, Ted had asked him if there was anything else he wanted to learn how to make. After that, it was just a thing. Once a week, Jamie would go over to Ted’s place, and they’d make dinner together.

This week, they were making some new recipe Ted had found online and wanted to try out, roping Jamie into helping him and being his guinea pig in case it went horribly wrong or some shit. Normally, Roy would drop Jamie off, and pick him up after for the small price of left overs from whatever they made, but Roy was busy and Jamie had to get himself there. It wasn’t that big of a deal, Jamie had his own car and all, he just liked getting driven around. Made him feel fancy.

Ted’s place was nice. Small, smaller than anything any other coach making the kind of money Ted was making would have, and clearly predecorated if the straight off the shelf art was anything to go by, but it had personal touches here and there. Pictures on the mantle and a box of toys that belonged to Henry shoved in the corner of the living room. It reminded Jamie a bit of his mummy’s house, though it didn’t even look kind of the same. It certainly had a lot less clearly bought at the thrift pieces of furniture that had been forced into a room together and made to look nice through sheer force of will. but it was the vibes that mattered. mummy’s house was nice because mummy liked living there. She put effort into it. Ted’s flat was the same.

Jamie knocked before he came in. He always did. Ted’s place wasn’t like Roys, he couldn’t just go barging in whenever he felt like it. He was a guest at Ted’s house, and despite what Roy seemed to think, Jamie’s mummy had taught him basic manners. It wasn’t his fault Roy didn’t care enough about Jamie barging in to stop him. All Roy had done about it was give Jamie his own key so he’d stop taking the one from the fancy fake rock in the garden to let himself in. He didn’t have a key to Ted’s place though, so he knocked and waited like a civilised person.

Ted opened the door quickly, just like he always did, a bright smile on his face. It reached his eyes, which was nice. Sometimes when Ted smiled, it fell short of actual happiness and just looked like he was smiling for the sake of not frowning. He usually smiled proper, when Jamie came round for a cooking lesson, which made Jamie feel a little special. He wasn’t the only one who got Ted smiling proper of course, but it was nice knowing that seeing Jamie was something that made Ted happy. Especially when a couple of months ago, Jamie had been mostly convinced Ted could hardly stand him.

“Well, hey there Jamie, right on time!” Ted greeted, moving out of the way so Jamie could step inside. Jamie usually got to Ted’s around five, and then they’d spend an hour or so cooking, then another hour or so eating, and then Jamie would go home so that he could get ready for bed. It was a well-practiced routine for them all. “how’s the weather out there looking? seems like it’s going to get nasty.”

“not too bad,” Jamie said, coming in past Ted and going through the usual motions of hanging his jacket on the hook and toeing his shoes off. It wasn’t really a rule Ted had, but Roy got weird about people wearing shoes around his house, so Jamie had gotten used to just taking them off whenever he came in. “probably going to rain, but what else is fucking new?”

Jamie didn’t like small talk much, especially not about shit like the weather and how your days been even though no one really wants to know, but Ted was a big fan of it. Enough of a fan of it that it didn’t feel like small talk at all. Just felt like regular talk. and Jamie did like regular talking well enough.

“I hear ya,” Ted replied with a light chuckle “all those jokes you hear about English weather doesn’t really do it justice.”

“Yeah,” Jamie replied, because there wasn’t much else to say to that. Luckily, Jamie had a built-in subject change whenever he came to Teds. “So what’re we making today?”

Ted, somehow, lit up even more. He always got excited about cooking, he just really liked to do it for some reason. Jamie had never liked cooking any more than he had to like it on account of needing to eat to live. It was nice though, when Ted got excited because it was easy to be excited with him even if it’s about something normal like cooking. Infectious, Keeley called it once, but that sounded wrong. Made it sound like a disease instead of something nice.

“Well, I’m real glad you asked Jam Tart!” Jamie didn’t know when Ted started calling him Jam Tart. A lot of the team had started calling him Jam at some point, he didn’t actually know who started it. Colin, he thinks, but Ted had heard it once and ran with it. He thinks it might annoy him more, having a dumb cutesy nickname the entire team uses for him, if it didn’t make him feel kind of warm and glowy. “the chefs pick for today is loaded baked potato soup.”

He drummed his hands dramatically on the kitchen counter, finishing his drum roll off with a jazzy wave of his hands towards the fridge, where the recipe was printed out and stuck to the surface with a tourist magnet. Another thing about Ted was that much like Roy, he seemed mildly allergic to technology and only used it when he absolutely had too. It meant Jamie kept going home with bundles of paper recipes with notes scribbled in the margins instead of Ted just texting him a link. Jamie wouldn’t admit it, but he liked that better. He had plans to make a little book of them all, like the home-made recipe book his mummy used to have. He’d make one up for Ted too maybe, for his birthday or Christmas or something else special. Jamie wasn’t great at gifts, but that seemed like something folksy Ted would enjoy.

“potato soup sounds disgusting,” Jamie said simply, looking the recipe over. Ted didn’t seem offended at Jamie’s apparent disgust at his recipe choice. This was a back and forth they did a lot. Jamie wasn’t actually a fan of trying new things, at least not food wise. He liked what he liked, and never felt the need to add to that. Ted though, Ted was adventurous about food. Or trying to be, he told Jamie once he was trying to broaden his horizons whatever the fuck that meant. It was kind of like a game for Ted, finding new recipes to try that Jamie would like.

“uh-uh, it’s loaded baked potato soup.” Ted said wiggling his fingers a little to add some pizazz to the words, laughing at Jamie’s scrunched up nose “we’re not just putting potatoes in some stock and calling it a day. Give it a try?”

“fine, but if it turns out disgusting you have to order me fish and chips and you can’t tell Roy.”

Ted laughs, nodding his hand and smoothing a hand over his moustache as he plucked the recipe from the fridge to set it on the counter where they could easily see it.

“sounds like a deal buckaroo.” He said, that bright, right to his eyes smile on his face as he clapped his hands together loudly, “now, let’s get to work!”

It starts raining in earnest as they sat down to eat. It was loud, beating down in thick, heavy sheets against the window and making some of Ted’s furniture rattle with the force of it all. It didn’t really bother them of course, they were inside where it was dry and for as loud as the rain was, it wasn’t like they couldn’t hear each other.

the potato soup wasn’t as bad as Jamie thought it would be. When he’d been picturing it, he’d just been picturing literal baked potatoes in some soup, all soggy and gross. He was wrong of course, and the actual soup was pretty good. It wasn’t just baked potatoes in some broth. They’d actually mashed the potatoes after they baked them, which seemed like a weird extra step, but what did Jamie know.

Ted, when he wasn’t trying to be a good example and was just acting like a regular person, was fun. Eating dinner with him was when Jamie got to hear all the fun stories Ted would never tell the team as a whole, like how he got arrested at prom. It was also when Jamie got to hear Ted swear, but only sometimes when Jamie asked the right questions to get him onto the right rant, like that time Jamie had been asking what American college was like and accidentally unlocked a rant about how much Ted hated his freshmen year RA, whatever the fuck that was. It was well funny, hearing Ted swear. It was kind of like hearing a sweet old lady swear. Or a kindergarten teacher.

Plus, Ted was just kind of old, and Jamie liked to ask him questions about the ye olden days back before the internet when people were still using messenger pigeons.

“oi Ted, did you get to watch the moon landing on the tv?” Jamie asked, stirring at the dregs of his soup, earning a surprised bark of laughter from Ted.

“Jamie, how old do you think I am?” he asked with an incredulous look, face lit up in amusement the way it got when people went along with his jokes, or made jokes of their own.

“dunno,” Jamie admitted with a shrug. He knew Ted wasn’t that old, but he could’ve been a baby or something. “older than the moon landing.”

“I am not older than the moon landing you little rascal,” Ted defended, like it wasn’t a completely fair assumption to make when he used words like rascal unironically. “I was born in 1975.”

“that’s so close though,” Jamie pointed out “that’s only like six years difference, that’s basically the same thing.”

“that is not at all the same thing.” Ted replies, playfully outraged at Jamie thinking he was old enough to witness the moon landing live. “six years is a big difference.”

“well, I was born twenty-eight years after the moon landing.” Jamie pointed out, and it was a lethal blow to whatever youth Ted happened to have in reserve. “six years ain’t a lot compared to twenty-eight.”

“good lord you know what to say to make a man feel old don’t you?” Ted laughed, whistling a bit like a tea kettle.

“it’s a talent of mine.” Jamie grinned, scooping up the last of his soup. “I do it to Roy all the time. I don’t even have to call him grandad or anything, I just have to tell him how old I was whenever he mentions some career highlight of his.”

“Speaking of Roy, I noticed you drove yourself in today,” Ted says conversationally, as he gets up to get a drink from the fridge. With his back to Jamie, he asks “where’s he gotten off too?”

“Don’t know,” Jamie hums. Roy had told him where he’d be off too, but Jamie didn’t really listen to the specifics. What Jamie had listened to was the 20-minute lecture Roy had given him about how just because he wasn’t going to be home tonight didn’t mean Jamie could stay up past his bedtime blah blah blah. He didn’t really listen to that by choice though, Roy just wouldn’t let him off the couch until he was sure Jamie understood he still had to go to bed on time even if Roy wasn’t there to make sure he did. “had something to do with Phoebe, I think he’s watching her for the night. He’s not going to be home tonight so I’m on my own.”

“Well, it’s always nice to have some alone time.” Ted mused, and Jamie shrugged. He never really liked alone time. He had enough of it as a kid, when his dad wasn’t around and his mummy had to work late so Jamie spent most evenings hanging out by himself in the garden or in front of the telly. Roy knew it too. Jamie never told him, but Roy was good about guessing stuff like that. Jamie was pretty sure the only reason Roy hadn’t called Keeley over to babysit again was because she was busy with a work thing.

“Guess so,” he replied to Ted, because he was pretty sure Ted couldn’t see him shrugging. It kind of felt like it sometimes at training, especially when Jamie and the lads were messing around, but Jamie was pretty sure he couldn’t actually see out the back of his head. Ted hummed, like he could see right through Jamie.

“If you want to stick around after we eat for a little while, I’m certainly up for some more company.” He offered, real casual like so Jamie doesn’t pick up on the fact he’s doing it. “I found a real interesting documentary the other day I’ve been meaning to watch, if you’re interested?”

“What’s it on?” Jamie asked, like he wasn’t going to say yes regardless just so he didn’t have to head home once dinner was over. He was perfectly capable of staying at home on his own, he just didn’t like doing it. He’d live, if Ted changed his mind and kicked him out, but if Ted wanted him to stick around for longer, it wasn’t like Jamie had any real reason to say no.

“David Bowie, it’s some kind of biopic I think” Ted said. Jamie knew who David Bowie was, but he didn’t know anything specific about the guy. He’d probably heard his songs before, but Jamie couldn’t name any of them. Bowie was before his time, by like a lot, so it wasn’t that much of a surprise Ted liked the guy. “Beard recommended it to me, he’s always been a big Ziggy stardust fan.”

“Sure,” Jamie agreed, pretending to put some thought into it just so Ted didn’t think Jamie was being clingy and weird. “sounds interesting.”

“Well alright then,” Ted replied, sounding well pleased with himself that Jamie had agreed to watch some tv with him after dinner before turning his attention back to his soup. It was different than usual, where Jamie would be packed up and sent off with left overs. A small step forward. Where they were going, Jamie didn’t really know, but he didn’t mind it much if it meant he didn’t have to go back to an empty house quite so soon.

Jamie helped Ted with the dishes, because he felt weird just putting them in the sink and leaving them there. It’s a back and forth they have a lot, where Jamie asks if Ted wants any help and Ted says no, that Jamie better be getting off downstairs so he didn’t keep Roy waiting, and usually Jamie would concede and head off to meet Roy in the car, but Roy wasn’t waiting for him downstairs this time and that was really Ted’s only argument Jamie couldn’t counteract.

it was getting late, by the time they’d finished up and settle onto Ted tiny ass couch to watch the documentary. Not real late, but late by Jamie’s standards these days. He’d probably end up breaking the bedtime rule, but it wasn’t like Roy was going to find out. He wasn’t even there. And it wouldn’t be by a lot.

It started thundering, not long after the documentary started and Jamie learnt he’d been confusing David Bowie and Elton John for literally his entire life. They didn’t even seem that similar, so he wasn’t sure how that had happened in his head, but better late than never to figure it out he supposed. Lightning of course made it’s appearance soon after.

Jamie had always liked thunderstorms. They felt oddly comforting, in ways he wasn’t sure how to quite explain. They were loud and dark, but he liked the way they made the shelves rattle and floors vibrate when the thunder crashed, he fucking adored seeing lightning crack through the black sky, like a glass splintering. When he was little, he used to wrap himself up in a blanket and sit on the little stoop of his front door whenever a thunder storm rolled around, waiting for the lightning the same way some other little lad would wait for a firework show.

Jamie’s attention had been almost entirely diverted from the tv once the first flash of lightning up lit up the room. There wasn’t a stoop for him to sit on with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders in Ted’s second story flat, but he had plenty of windows for Jamie to press his nose up against to try and see the next splinter of light break through the sky. Ted wasn’t nearly as entertained by the lightning as Jamie was, but if he minded the fact Jamie had abandoned any pretence of watching the movie with him to stare out the window in anticipation, the fond looks he kept throwing Jamie’s way didn’t show it.

The lightning didn’t last for very long, but the thunder persisted through the rest of the documentary, rattling Ted’s trinkets on their shelves. At one point, when the storm had settled right over their heads, the flat shook violently enough the picture of Ted and Nate he had on his mantle fell forward and Ted had to get up to fix it.

By the time the documentary had finished, the rain hadn’t let up and Ted’s clock had ticked over to declare it 9:15 pm. Jamie wasn’t that tired. Or, more truthfully, he wasn’t tired enough that going home to Roy’s to get ready for bed seemed all that appealing. But with the movie over, and it being officially past bedtime, he didn’t see what other choice he had. He had to go home eventually.

Ted’s couch wasn’t very comfortable, so Jamie took care to stretch his spine out the chase away the dull ache that sitting on it had planted there once he’d stood up. He’d probably have to run to the car once he got downstairs, to avoid getting too wet, but that would be fine. He was quick, and Ted’s street was well lit so even if it was slippery, Jamie would probably make it to his car without twisting his ankle or some shit.

“You heading off then?” Ted asked, standing up and smoothing his hands over his old man khaki pants.

“Yeah,” Jamie nodded, rubbing lightly at his eyes to chase away the heaviness that always tended to settle over them once the clock ticked over to nine. “should probably get back soon or Roy’ll have a conniption about me staying up too late again.”

“And you’re alright to drive?” Ted asked, brow furrowed in worry, “you seem a little tired bud, and it’s raining pretty hard.”

“Yeah, I’ll be right.” Jamie muttered, though he was cut off half way by a yawn that made his jaw crack. That just made Ted’s brow furrow further, and his moustache twitch a bit that way it did when he was worried about someone, like that time Dani had come into practice limping and wouldn’t tell anyone what had happened. (it was a sex injury, Jamie found out later when there were no coaches around to overhear, which certainly explained Dani’s reluctance to tell Ted how it’d happened.)

“Well Jamie, I don’t know how comfortable I feel letting you head home in this weather.” Ted said, hands in his pockets and looking emphatically out the window where the rain was still beating down heavily. “I’d hate for something to happen to you. Are you sure you don’t want to just stay the night? I’m sure Roy won’t mind.”

Jamie would probably be fine to go home. the rain wasn’t actually that bad. Ted probably just thought it was, because he’s from fucking yeehaw sunshine land where rain didn’t exist. But home would be empty. Roy was gone for the night, babysitting Phoebe for Sarah while she had a night shift and he wouldn’t be back until the morning as far as Jamie knew. and Ted was offering, it wasn’t like Jamie was just inviting himself over or nothing. Ted actually seemed pretty insistent on Jamie staying. He was looking at Jamie with big eyes and he had a bunch of extra lines on his face from the way it was scrunched up all troubled.

“yeah,” he said, after a moment of hesitation. He was kind of tired. Plus, Roy was always getting up him about driving safe and shit. And if Ted wanted him to stay, Jamie wasn’t going to say no, especially not when he was looking like Jamie was about to head off to war or something like it wasn’t just a little rain. “that’d be nice actually, thanks Ted.”

Ted whole body relaxed, when Jamie agreed to stay, which seemed like a bit of an overreaction but it was still well nice of him to be worried on Jamie’s behalf. Jamie never had people worrying after him much growing up. His mummy, for as much as she loved him, wasn’t the most concerned what he was doing when he was running around the streets after dark. She trusted him not to get into trouble, even though Jamie had made a habit of getting into as much trouble as he could find. It was weird, having people worrying about him now, but it was nice.

“Great!” Ted said, clapping his hands together “I’ll get the guest room set up for you!”

The guest room turned out to also be Henry’s room. It wasn’t real obvious for anything, but Jamie knew the signs of a little kids room. Those army men Ted liked to give out sat lined up on the windowsill and there was a drawing of a robot pinned to the otherwise empty cork board. Legos were tucked away in a box in the corner. Other than that though, it was a regular guest room. Normal, boring sheets on the bed and a lonesome, uninteresting plastic plant decorating the bedside table.

Jamie knew Ted knew about the bedtime, so it wasn’t too surprising to him when Ted had ushered him off to bed as soon as the guest room was deemed ready instead of seeing if Jamie wanted to do something else for a little while. Thankfully though, Ted wasn’t annoying about it. He didn’t make any little jokes or even say anything at all. He just offered Jamie a pat on the shoulder and a cheerful “sweet dreams!” before heading off to his own room for the night.

Ted was surprisingly prepared for an unplanned house guest. He had spare toothbrushes on hand and an extra towel for Jamie in case he wanted to shower. He’d even offered Jamie some clothes to sleep in, but Jamie was pretty sure they weren’t going to fit and wasn’t going to bother trying. He’d be fine in his own shirt; he’d just kick his pants off. He’ll probably feel all kinds of stale and gross in the morning, but he’d take a shower when he got home. Maybe even a bath. He’d probably be able to con Roy into washing his hair for him, if he asked nicely.

Speaking of Roy, Jamie was pretty sure he should tell him that he wasn’t going to be home. If he was staying the night at Ted’s it was more than likely Roy would get home before him sometime tomorrow morning and have a fit if he went to check on Jamie and couldn’t find him. Especially if Jamie’s bed was still made. That’d send him into a fucking meltdown for sure. Best not to put any unnecessary stress on the old man’s heart lest he have an aneurysm.

He could’ve just texted him, probably would’ve been easier to do that, but Jamie called him. He’d gotten used to talking to Roy before he went to sleep alright? it was fucking weird not having the grumpy old twat around and it’s not like anyone was going to know he could’ve just texted him. Jamie was alone in Ted’s guest room, there wasn’t anybody looking in on him to mock him for being soft and wanting to say goodnight to Roy but the nasty voices in his head, and they weren’t even real people so what they thought didn’t matter.

Roy picks up after the second ring. “Why the fuck aren’t you in bed?”

“Hello to you too, dickhead.” Jamie laughed “that’s how you answer the phone? thought you had at least some manners.”

“Hello Jamie.” Roy said, sounding long suffering about it “why the fuck aren’t you in bed.”

“I’m at Ted’s still.” Jamie explained, fiddling with the corner of the blanket. He could hear Ted in the kitchen, making himself a coffee probably by the sound of clinking mugs, which was dumb since it was so late but who was Jamie to judge. “he didn’t want me driving home in the rain or something, so I’m staying the night. Thought I should tell you so you didn’t have a contention when you get home tomorrow if I’m not there.”

“It’s called a conniption.” Roy corrects, and Jamie could practically feel him rolling his eyes. “and just because you’re at Ted’s doesn’t mean you can stay up.”

“Relax grandad, I’m going to bed right now,” Jamie said, rolling his eyes right back at Roy “I’ve brushed my teeth already and everything you control freak bastard. I was just letting you know.”

If Roy realises that Jamie could have just texted him that, which he probably does since he’s a big fan of bitching about when meetings could have been emails, he doesn’t say anything.

“Thank you.” Roy said simply, voice smooth and rough all at once in Jamie’s ear as he finally pulls back the comforter on the bed to clamber in. The bed is at least more comfortable then Ted’s couch, even if it’s not as comfortable as Jamie’s bed at home. “but you need to go to bed now, it’s late.”

“yeah, I know.” Jamie sighed. He wants it on record that he still thinks this whole bedtime thing was bullshit, even if he was feeling a bit better since it started. It wasn’t like he was feeling bad exactly, back before Roy had gotten it into his head that Jamie needed to sleep more or he’d fucking die or something, but he did feel better.

Not that he’d admit that out loud, because that would be admitting Roy was right and Jamie would frankly rather keel over and die on the spot than do that. But just because he thought it was bullshit, didn’t mean he didn’t like it at least a little. Being cared about was well nice, and it wasn’t like he didn’t like sleeping. He just didn’t like how much work getting to sleep was. Roy had done a good job of making it easier though.

“Can you just talk to me for a bit?” He asked quietly. Roy hummed on the other end of the line, and Jamie heard a bit of shuffling. Fabric on fabric. He was probably posted up on Sarah’s coach, had probably just finished putting Phoebe to bed and now he was doing the same for Jamie.

“what do you want me to talk about?” Roy asked. It was a simple enough question, but Jamie didn’t have an answer. He just wanted to hear Roy’s voice, until he fell asleep, the same way he would at home.

“Dunno,” Jamie mumbled, adjusting the blankets around himself and putting his phone on the pillow beside his ear. “anything.”

“Yeah, alright then,” Roy said, humming again as he thought of something to talk about. It doesn’t take long for him to settle on a topic, “Phoebe had dance today, we went out for dinner after and she decided to catch me up on all fuck muppet drama happening at school. That should keep you entertained for a while.”

Roy carried on recounting Phoebe’s version of whatever was happening at school, sharing all the year three gossip he’d learned from her over fish and chips with Jamie as he let his eyes drift shout and the sound of Roy’s voice wash over him. He could hear the tv in the other room too, volume down low but just loud enough to be a comforting sign of someone else in the house with him.

Somewhere between Roy telling him about how Phoebe had gotten sent to reform again for getting into a fight with some little twat named Oscar during recess and Ted turning the tv off, Jamie’s eyes slipped closed. It was nice, he thought, being cared about. It was really fucking nice.

Chapter Text

Jamie is pretty sure he’s dreaming. He thinks he is anyway, because if he wasn’t then he’s pretty sure the universe is broken and / or he’s been possessed, which would be unfortunate. He’s in the locker room, sitting on the floor in front of a row of cubbies. Everyone’s there, all the lads and the coaches, even Ms Welton is hanging around somewhere, but no one is really doing anything. They’re just standing around having gibberish conversations Jamie can’t really understand. Colin’s been taking a box of cereal out of his cubby and putting it back on repeat since Jamie first realised he was dreaming.

The colours on the cubbies are wrong. Green and yellow, instead of blue and red, and he’s staring at the one across from him trying to figure out why it’s wrong. KENT 9. Roy isn’t a player anymore, so maybe that’s it? Roy shouldn’t have a cubby if he’s a coach. He’s not even a player in the dream, because he’s standing over at the front of the room talking with Beard in his usual coaching attire, though he’s wearing Ted’s hat for some reason. Roy looks dead weird with a hat on.

Anyway, the cubby was weird and Jamie couldn’t figure out why. KENT 9. Maybe it was spelt wrong? He can’t remember how to actually spell Roy’s last name at the minute, on account of being asleep and all. He isn’t sure how long he’s been sitting on the floor of the locker room just watching everybody else. He doesn’t think it’s been very long, but there’s no clock on the wall and time in dreams is weird. He’s pretty sure Roy’s name is spelt wrong. He thinks there’s another N in there, or maybe the E is supposed to be somewhere else. He doesn’t know for sure. Just looks weird.

He sits there for a while, not sure what else to do. Jamie’d always had weird dreams like this, where he was half aware and just watching everything happen around him like he was in a movie. He wasn’t sure how it happened, at some point he’d just think to himself “this is a dream” and suddenly he was aware of all the weird things he normally wouldn’t question. Back when he was little it used to scare him. Wandering around a weird, messed up version of your own life that sometimes featured giant spiders that wanted to eat you wasn’t that fun when you were six years old and wanted your mummy but couldn’t even dream her up. Aware enough to know none of it was real, but not aware enough to actually change anything in the dream. It was fucking freaky.

The more it happened, the more he got used too it. It stopped being scary and started just being weird. It was trippy, being able to walk down a street and know for sure you were the only real person on it, knowing that nothing you did or said mattered, because the only person around to witness it was you, and all the mini you’s wearing your friends faces that made up your brain.

It was also kind of boring. There was only so long he could listen to half conversations and watch Not-Colin play tug of war with his cubby and a box of cereal before he felt like he was actually about to go mad. The good news was, being aware that he’s dreaming means he can just leave. He does it loads. If a dream is boring, or scary, he just finds the nearest door and usually once he goes through it, a whole new dream starts. Keeps things interesting.

He pushes himself up off the floor. Keeping a wary eye on the imitations of his friends as he wanders towards to exit of the locker room. Sometimes they try to stop him, when he tries to change a dream. It’s proper fucking scary when they do that. They’ll jump out at him and start shouting about how he can’t leave or he’ll ruin everything. Used to wake up crying, thinking he’d done something wrong and feeling it all heavy like in his chest, but he got over that quick. It was just a dream, and only pussies cried because of a stupid dream. He makes for the door, and suddenly Will is there on the other side of it, smiling at him. Jamie liked Will, thought he was a good lad, but he was always kind of an arsehole in Jamie’s dreams for some reason.

“Don’t leave.” Will warns, still smiling at Jamie, and that’s well creepy isn’t it.

“It’s my dream,” Jamie huffs, never one for being told what to do even by his own head. “I can do what I like.”

“Don’t leave.” Will warns again, like maybe Jamie just hadn’t heard him, standing in the doorway blocking his exit. “You won’t like it if you leave.”

“Well, I don’t like it much now either.” Jamie pointed out with a roll of his eyes “You ain’t even real. What do you know?”

“You won’t like it.” Will replies, voice sounding a bit funny, not like Will’s. More like his da’s, but Jamie doesn’t like thinking about that so he ignores him, and keeps going. The dream changes, just like Jamie knew it would.

He’s in a park now. Sort of. It doesn’t look much like a park, but that’s what he knows it is the way you do in dreams. Something about it is unsettling, though Jamie can’t figure out what. Same as the cubby. There’s a man at the park, staggering along the path towards Jamie. Whoever they are, Jamie doesn’t recognise them. They’re coming closer to him, and Jamie can’t get himself to move.

He feels like he should, something in his chest rattles nervously, sending tingly alarming waves of nerves into his fingertips, adrenalin making its way through his body as the stranger got closer. They kind of looked like Roy, if Roy weren’t anything like himself. The beard was too long, hair was too scraggly, walk was too clumsy. but it was Roy, and he knew it the same way he knew the oddly shaped lump of dirt he was standing on was a park.

Not-Roy staggered in his path towards Jamie, and it wasn’t Roy’s walk. It was someone else’s. Jamie’s seen it plenty before, the tell-tale swaying of drunk anger cutting a jagged path towards him. He was in park, and a drunk, angry man was stumbling towards him wearing his favourite persons face like a cheap fucking Halloween mask.

Jamie felt panic clawing up his throat, his heart hammering away in his chest, a solid, resounding thumping in his ears, but he couldn’t move. He was stuck where he was, in the not-really-a-park watching the stranger get closer, closer, closer. The way he was going, he was going to run directly into Jamie. It was a practiced scene this was, a memory taken right from the deep recesses of Jamie’s brain that he’d shoved way way down so he’d not have to deal with it. It was a song Jamie had learnt the lyrics too entirely against his will, like a fucking ear worm radio song.

A drunk, angry man was heading for Jamie, his hands balled into fists and smelling like whiskey. His da didn’t smell like whiskey. His dad drank beer, too fucking cheap to have anything else unless someone else was paying. Roy did though. Roy didn’t drink like his dad did, but he drank whiskey. He and Jamie had an argument about it once. Big one, with screaming at each other like they used too. It was a stupid argument to have, Jamie knew Roy didn’t drink like his da did. Having whiskey in the house made him nervous anyway.

Not-Roy stops in front of Jamie, and things change again like Jamie’s in a fucking fun house or something. Not-Roy isn’t Not-Roy anymore. It’s his regular old Da, not the fucked up hybrid that was making Jamie feel like he was about to be sick on his imaginary shoes. He’s got a boot in hand, neon green with a black stripe on it. There’re walls now. Not much else. A door, with a little window. The boot room. This had happened before. Jamie sighs. He knows how this dream goes. It sucks, but he’s used to it. Ted made them watch Groundhog Day a few weeks ago. It was like that.

His Da would throw the boot, and Ted would be there, but then Ted would be gone, and when Jamie would try to leave, to follow Ted back to the locker room where he was supposed to be, with his friends and Roy and whoever else was in there that wasn’t his fucking Da with a neon green boot held in his hands like a deadly weapon, the door would be locked and he’d be trapped. It’s different this time. The room feels smaller, his da feels closer, it’s not Ted looking at him through the window.

It’s Roy. Just Roy, like the dream had split the fucked up amalgamation of his Da and Roy down the middle for this next part, like it knew that would somehow fuck Jamie up more to have Roy in Ted’s place instead of his Da’s. Because Jamie knew Roy would never hurt him, not for real, not with intention, the way his Da does even when he’s stumbling drunk. His Da always means it. Roy never does. Jamie can scoff at the idea of it, it doesn’t scare him to think of Roy hitting him. But when Jamie was a wee little thing, he used to day dream about Roy Kent coming to save him from his mean dad or bullies from school.

Roy was standing on the other side of the window, and Jamie’s tongue felt like sand paper in his mouth as Da threw the boot, in landing against the concrete shadow of a the wall with a sickening crack, flash of neon racing past Jamie’s eyes quick enough Jamie almost forgets to duck. Roy is standing there, and he’s looking at Jamie and his da and the boot, and he fucking walks away.

Jamie knows how this dream goes. He stands up anyway, doesn’t know when he sat down. Dreams were just like that. The door is locked when he tries to pull it open, the handle won’t budge. He can see Roy walking away. He hears himself begging him to come back, but it’s muffled and wrong. Far away like.

“He doesn’t want you lad.” his Da says. sneers, actually. Smells like beer instead of whiskey. That’s what he always says, when it’s Ted. But it’s different this time, it’s Roy this time. Jamie’s eyes are stinging. Roy had never walked away from Jamie before. Jamie smacked his hand against the glass, but it didn’t do anything. His Da laughs. It’s echoey and loud and makes Jamie feel like he’s fucking choking. Then Da’s hand is in Jamie’s hair, yanking him back from the door, Da pulls his arm back, ready to smack Jamie’s head into the wall just like he had the boot. Jamie doesn’t scream.

Jamie’s room was quiet when he wakes up. He doesn’t wake up screaming, or even with much of a start. One second he’s asleep, and the next he’s blinking himself awake with hot, wet eyes. His limbs feel heavy and his mouth feels disgusting as he shifts, his heart pounding away in his chest like he’d done a fucking marathon and his stomach twisted up uncomfortably as the remnants of the dream raced through his mind.

He breathed in deep through his nose, tried to will the gross feeling that always came with nightmares. Fear was sticky, it coated his lungs and his skin. Made his hands tingly and eyes sting. Jamie wasn’t an idiot; he knew he was a bit of a fucking cry baby. His dad used to get on him for it all the time, and his classmates when he was a wee little lad because he was the only who cried when his mummy dropped him off in the mornings. He’d grown out of it quick once he’d started school, by then he was old enough to know that crying was soft and pathetic and wouldn’t do him any favours. Or he fucking thought he had until he’d come back to Richmond and it had all started up again. He’d always thought he hid it well though, until Jan fucking Maas had pointed it out to everybody.

Crying about a nightmare wasn’t that out of the norm for Jamie, was the point. He had them plenty, would wake up already in tears or on the verge of tears, sticky fear clogging up his throat and nose like someone had poured syrup in them to give Jamie the hardest time breathing as possible. But usually, he could shake it off. He was good at calming himself down, knew all the ways to breathe and ground himself and get out of his head quick so he wouldn’t have a meltdown about some imaginary people being mean to him.

But something about this dream was sticking in his head, playing back in his mind, suffocating discomfort weighing heavy of his chest. Roy wouldn’t just leave him with his dad, Jamie fucking knew that. Roy never had, never would, just leave Jamie to fend for himself about anything. Fuck Jamie was sitting in his room in Roy’s house, tangled up in the sheets Roy had gotten for him while the man himself was probably asleep down the fucking hall. It wasn’t even an accurate fucking nightmare. Roy wouldn’t just leave. Jamie knew that. He was wrapped up in the indisputable proof of it.

It didn’t feel like enough, as he sits up in the dark. He reaches down to untangle his legs from his sheets, and it takes longer than it should because his hands are shaking. He feels cold, even though he knows it isn’t. His whole body is chattering like it’s freezing though, thrumming with nervous energy. The sheets are rough under his hand, grimy in a way they weren’t when Roy had tucked him under them earlier.

Roy was in his room. Jamie didn’t know that for sure, but he could assume so. Roy was an old man who put himself to bed not long after he put Jamie to bed, and it was a little past midnight according to Jamie’s alarm clock. Roy would be in his room, asleep. He should be. He wouldn’t have just left Jamie alone in the house. It was after all, Roy’s house. There wasn’t anywhere else for him to be but here. Jamie was pretty sure Roy would be in his room. He wouldn’t have just left Jamie. Still, Jamie needs some kind of proof of it.

The house was quiet, when Jamie threw off his covers and crept out into the hall. Roy had switched all the lights off and drawn all the curtains just like he did every night, leaving the hallway plunged in darkness and looking so much longer than Jamie knew it was. Roy’s room was right at the end, Jamie’s and Phoebes on either side of the hall leading down too it. It wasn’t actually that far away, but it felt like it as Jamie clung to his doorway, fearful of passing the threshold.

What he was fearful of, Jamie didn’t quite know. Maybe that there would be someone waiting for him when he stepped out, smelling like beer or whiskey. Or even worse, that there would be no one at all. That the house would be still and quiet, with only Jamie inside. If he just stayed in his room, he’d never know if Roy had left or not. He could pretend that the other man was asleep down the hall just like he usually was. But he wouldn’t know for sure, if he stayed in his room. Roy could be asleep, or he could be long gone. Jamie wouldn’t know, not unless he went and checked himself. It was like that blokes fucking cat that everyone was always going on about. Wouldn’t know until you checked on the thing.

Roy’s room really wasn’t that far away. Only a few steps, if he lengthened his stride as far as he could. It wasn’t like there would actually be someone hiding around the corners in the dark waiting to jump out at him. There was no such thing as monsters. at least not the kind that hid in cupboards or under beds. Roy’s room wasn’t that far away, and all he needed to do was check.

He just needed to check that Roy was still there. Jamie could only imagine how pissy Roy would get if Jamie woke him up, but he’d be quiet. All he needed to do was open the door and check. He doesn’t need to wake Roy up just to check if he’s still there. It would all be fine. Jamie would walk down the hall, quiet as mouse, pop his head into Roy’s room just to make sure the hairy twat really was asleep in bed and that he hadn’t left Jamie alone, then Jamie would go back to his own room and go back to sleep. Foolproof plan.

He keeps his hand on the wall, and feels a bit stupid about it. Feels a bit stupid about it all really, creeping around in the dark with barely dry tears stuck to his skin, making his face feel scratchy and wrong, his arms jittery and numb at the exact same time, something uncomfortable and heavy settled deep in his ribcage urging him forward. The floor is cold on Jamie’s bare feet, each step resounding with a soft thump in the otherwise silent night.

He’d never done this as a kid. He’d had bad dreams before of course, but he’d never had anyone to go crying too about them. mummy worked nights more often than not, and Jamie would have to have a death wish to go creeping into his dads’ room over anything let alone something as simple as a nightmare. Not that he was going crying to Roy about it either. He wasn’t going to wake Roy up; he was just going to check. That was all. He walks through the hall, one hand on the wall guiding him through the dark. He was just going to check on Roy, and then he’d go back to his own room.

Roy doesn’t really know what wakes him up at first. He’d always been a light sleeper, waking up at every bump in the night or particularly hard gust of wind rattling his windows. He’s used to blinking himself awake at random, far too fucking early hours, so it takes him a minute to realise the reason he woke up was because Jamie fucking Tartt was standing in his doorway at half past midnight.

It must have been the quiet creak of the door that woke Roy up, but that didn’t explain why Jamie was standing in the doorway fucking staring at him like a child of the fucking corn or some other equally as creepy shit. Phoebe used to do the same fucking thing, when she woke up in the middle of the night. She’d stand right in front of Roy and just stare until he woke up and fucking shit himself when the first thing he saw was her creepy fuck muppet face standing nose to nose with him.

Jamie isn’t that bad, compared to Phoebe, at least he’d kept a respectable distance instead of shoving his sticky child hands in Roy’s face, but it’s still fucking creepy waking up to someone staring at him in the middle of the fucking night.

“what the fuck are you doing?” Roy grumbled, still half asleep into his pillow, willing himself further into consciousness. If Jamie was in his room, it was probably for a reason. For as much of a prick as he was about going to bed, once he was down, he usually stayed down. Jamie makes a little surprised noise, like he wasn’t expecting Roy to have caught him.

“uh- nothing. you’re dreaming.” Jamie rushed out, blinking owlishly at him as Roy properly sat up and got a good look at him. It was dark, and Roy wasn’t the best at seeing in the dark these days, but it was easy enough to tell that something was wrong with him. His voice was thick, like he’d been crying. He was shifting from foot to foot, hand under his shirt twisting at the fabric the way he did when he got nervous.

“yeah, fucking right I’m dreaming.” Roy huffed, flicking on his bedside lamp and blinking as the light flooded the room. Like he’d suspected, Jamie looked… distraught. Not quite sad, or scared, but upset. His hair was a mess, tousled from sleep and his face was a blotchy red the way it got when he was about to cry or had just finished crying. Roy can even see the shiny remnants of tears clinging to his lashes. “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Jamie insists, scrubbing at his face quickly like he hadn’t realised Roy could see him now that the lights were on. His voice sounds wet, and the hand fisted in his shirt tightens ever so slightly. “I’m fine, everything’s fine.”

“yeah, because you look so fucking fine right now.” Roy sighs, running a hand over his face to wake himself up a bit more. The clock beside his bed told him it was 12:35 AM. too fucking early if you asked him. “what’re you doing in here? what’s wrong?”

“I told you- nothing.” Jamie repeated stubbornly, like Roy was going to believe him when he was standing at the foot of Roy’s bed in his rumpled pyjamas with dried tears on his face. “nothing’s wrong I was just- checking.”

“Checking?” Roy asked, unsure if he’d heard Jamie right. He doesn’t know what the fuck Jamie would need to be checking in Roy’s room at half past fucking twelve. “checking what?”

“Nothing.” Jamie replied, turning his face to stare at the wall instead of looking at Roy, face flushed with what Roy suspected was embarrassment and jaw set stubbornly.

“is that the only word you fucking know?” Roy groused.

“No.” Jamie pouted, toeing at the ground. He looked fucking miserable, which was probably the only reason Roy didn’t chuck him out for being a nitwit nuisance so early in the fucking morning. He was shivering like it was freezing, even though he was in warm pyjamas pants, because Roy had refused to let the fuck muppet go to bed in fucking boxers in the middle of winter even though he fucking whined about it for at least an hour. Roys house was warm, but it wasn’t that fucking warm.

“Alright then.” Roy sighed, shuffling to the side “did you find what you were fucking looking for?”

Jamie turned to him again, head tilted a bit too the side and looking at Roy appraisingly. Roy didn’t know what he was looking for exactly, but he knew the moment Jamie found it, his entire body relaxing, the hand twisted up in the fabric of his shirt loosening.

“Yeah.” Jamie mumbled, after the moment of silence. He still didn’t move. He doesn’t relax completely either. His shoulders are still hiked up halfway to his ears, and eyes trained to the ground now that he was no longer searching Roy’s face intently.

“are you going to go back to bed now?” Roy asks, not sure what else to do.

“…I guess.” Jamie sighed, but still didn’t move.

Even if he didn’t know what was wrong, and Jamie was being a stubborn little twat refusing to explain, Roy could tell there was something bothering the muppet. Jamie was a lot of things, but subtle wasn’t one of them. Roy blamed his years of dealing with Phoebe for the thought process behind what he does next.

“Do you want to sleep here tonight?”

Jamie’s eyes snap up towards Roy, bewilderment clear on his face.

“what?”

“Do you want to sleep here.” Roy repeated, less of a question this time and more of a statement.

“why would I-”

“You’re clearly upset about something Jamie- and I swear to god if you say nothings fucking wrong, I’ll fucking smack you- you don’t have to tell me what, but you don’t have to be miserable alone.”

“nothings-” Jamie cut himself off, lips pursed as he considered how serious Roy was about smacking him if he said it again. He shakes his head minutely, taking a stilted half step back. “It’s stupid. I can just go back to my own room, sorry for waking you up.”

“I didn’t ask if it was stupid, I asked if you wanted to stay here.”

“what- like in your bed?” Jamie asked, face scrunched up in confusion like it was a novel concept. Roy realises it might be.

“Yeah.”

“with you?”

“yes.”

“Isn’t that weird?”

“How’s it fucking weird?” Roy asked “I sit with you in your bed all the time.”

“well yeah, but you don’t fucking stay there do you?”

“what difference does it make?”

Jamie shrugged, clearly not able to come up with a sufficient enough answer for why exactly it would be weird for him to stay in Roy’s room for the night but still unsure if he actually should.

“Jamie, I promise, it’s not as big of a deal as you seem to fucking think it is.” Roy sighs “I share with Phoebe all the time when she’s upset.”

“I’m not Phoebe.”

“But you are upset.”

“It’s dumb.” Jamie mumbled again

“that’s still not what I fucking asked.” Roy said. “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want too. But I’m offering. If you don’t want to be alone right now, you can stay.”

“are you sure?” Jamie asked, looking so fucking small as he gazed at Roy with wide, half hopeful and half confused eyes. It was ridiculous, how fucking small Jamie could make himself seem, when he was nervous and unsure. Roy had resigned himself to it, but it was still fucking annoying the way it pulled at his chest.

“yes, I’m fucking sure.” he replied “now make up your fucking mind you muppet, I want to go back to sleep.”

Jamie blinked at him, bleary and wide eyed like a confused fucking puppy as Roy shuffled to the side to make room for Jamie. He didn’t know for sure if Jamie was going to stay, but he had a pretty good fucking idea of it. Jamie was clingy at the best of times, even more so when he was upset about something.

Sure enough, after another minute or so of Jamie shuffling from foot to foot at the end of Roy’s bed, he came shuffling around to the side. Jamie moves slow, kneeling on the mattress gingerly like he’s expecting Roy to turn around and tell him to fuck off instead. He stays like that for a moment, assessing how serious Roy actually is about letting him stay before ever so slowly pulling the covers back and clambering under them. He lays stiffly beside Roy, flat on his back with his arms crossed over his stomach like he’s a fucking mummy.

Roy rolled his eyes, reaching over to flick the lamp off, plunging the room back into darkness. Jamie’s breath hitches lightly as Roy lays back down beside him. It evens out again as Roy settles back into his mattress getting comfortable. Jamie kept laying there beside him, stiff as a fucking board like he had no idea what to do with himself.

Which was fucking ridiculous, since Roy knew for a fact the little twat was usually a human fucking barnacle, clinging tightly to whoever was beside him until he fell asleep. Roy had been on the receiving end of Jamie’s clinginess enough times to know the rigid way he was holding himself certainly wasn’t going to be putting him back to sleep any time fucking soon. Not to mention Roy wasn’t that keen on sleeping beside a fucking statue.

“oi,” Roy grumbled into the quiet darkness “calm the fuck down.”

“I am calm.” Jamie whispered back, sounding the very opposite of calm “I’m so calm.”

Roy snorted, reaching over and grabbing Jamie by the elbow, tugging the muppet closer to him, closing the gap that Jamie had left between them when he laid down as close to the edge of the mattress as possible like an idiot.

“what’re you doing?” Jamie asked quietly, though he allowed himself to be manoeuvred easily as Roy tucked him close to his chest, Jamie’s head resting on his collar bone.

“what’s it look like I’m doing?” Roy replied simply with a roll of his eyes, threading his hands through Jamie’s hair tightly, and suddenly Jamie was boneless against him. It’s a neat trick, that is.

“that’s cheating.” Jamie mumbled petulantly, as Roy scratches his fingers over Jamie’s scalp. Even as he says it, Jamie tries to move closer all the stiffness from before giving way to familiarity. Jamie’s hand moves up to cling to Roy’s shirt sleeve, his thumb rubbing little circles over the fabric rhythmically.

“shh, shut up.” Roy shushed. Jamie made an indignant little noise at being shushed.

“don’t tell me to shut up.” He huffed.

“go to fucking sleep brat.” Roy chided gently “it’s past your bedtime.”

Jamie sighs, put out at the gentle scolding. It doesn’t have much of an effect, when his breath is coming out in short, steady puffs against Roy’s neck, his eyes fluttering closed with each light scratch through his hair. Jamie was warm against Roy’s side, bony fucking skull heavy on Roy’s chest, and without much fanfare he throws his other arm over Roy’s middle, adding to the weight and clinging tightly, pulling himself impossibly closer. Roy wouldn’t be surprised if he woke up in the morning to Jamie laying fully on top of him. Roy was a little surprised that the thought didn’t bother him much.

They stay like that for a time. Roy doesn’t really keep track. He’s almost back to sleep when Jamie speaks up again, so quiet Roy almost doesn’t hear it.

“I had a bad dream.” he whispered, the hand clinging to Roy’s sleeve tightening. Roy grunted softly, a quiet prompt to continue, to show that he was listening. “my dad was there, and he was- he was being a dick, I guess. Nothing special really. But you were there too, and you were being fucking weird, and then you left. You just- you left.”

Roy stays quiet for a moment, taking it all in with no idea how to respond. It didn’t surprise Roy, that Jamie had dreams about his dad but it did surprise him a bit that he had them about Roy too. He waited, hoping that maybe Jamie would continue but he doesn’t. He stays utterly quiet, and Roy realises after a second that he’s holding his breath waiting for Roy to have something to say. At least this part was easy.

“I’m not going to leave you. Ever.” Roy promised, holding Jamie tightly, trying to make him feel just how much he meant it through the sheer force. Like maybe, if he held on hard enough Jamie would never have a reason to doubt it. “Unfortunately for you, you’re fucking stuck with me.” Roy feels more than he sees the ghost of a smile on Jamie’s face as he twists to bury his nose in Roy’s collar.

“’ts not that unfortunate.” Jamie mumbled, and Roy’s taken off guard by the soft sincerity of it all. Jamie buries himself in Roy’s arms as much as he can, rubbing his face on Roy’s shirt like a fucking cat, grinning against his neck. “Think it’s pretty mint, actually. There are worse people to be stuck with than a grumpy old twat like you.”

Roy doesn’t know what to say to that. Never had known how to handle open affection when it was directed at him even if he was pretty good at showing it to other people. Instead, he moves his hand up to smack Jamie on the back of the head ever so slightly.

“oi, watch who you’re calling old you little prick.” He grumbled lightly “now go back to fucking sleep. It’s too early for you to be running your mouth.”

Jamie scoffed, and Roy couldn’t see it but he could picture him rolling his eyes with all the dramatics of a fucking oscar winning actor.

“whatever grandad,” Jamie mumbled, sounding so very fucking amused with himself. It’s quiet for a moment, and then he pipes again, soft and sincere this time “Night, Roy.”

“Goodnight Jamie.”