Saturday, 7th January 2023 – Part Two

Roy slid into the backseat of the car next to Jamie and did up his seatbelt. Jamie pulled out his phone and tapped at it, hiding the screen from Roy. They pulled up outside of the house and Jamie climbed out of the car, walking up the path and into the house. He toed off his shoes and then continued up the stairs. Roy followed behind him, freezing at the top of the stairs when he saw Jamie grabbing his away game bag from the linen press across from the top step.

"Jamie?"

Jamie turned back and looked at him.

"Are you leaving me?" Roy asked quietly.

Jamie froze and looked at Roy for a long beat. "We need to talk."

Roy nodded.

"We've been havin' two different relationships for six months."

Roy stood, frozen, staring at Jamie.

"So, we're going to drive somewhere and we're goin' to have a fuckin' conversation, and then we're going to work out how to fucking make this fucking work."

Roy felt his whole body change shape as he let out a breath.

"And I'm going to be fucking mad at you that you didn't fucking tell me we were fucking dating. Now pack a fucking bag for a few days."

Roy nodded.

Jamie grabbed Roy's bag too and headed into their bedroom. "Fucking hell, you offered to sleep downstairs."

"I didn't want to be too much."

"But you thought we were…motherfucking fuck, is this all because Keeley got all fucking weird about you being clingy?"

Roy growled and folded his arms across his chest.

"I never wanted you to keep a distance," Jamie told him.

"You didn't even know we were dating."

"If I'd known we were, you never would have fucking been allowed to sleep in Hounslow."

Roy's eyes changed.

"Pack," Jamie ordered.

"Where are we going?"

"None of your fucking business."

Roy huffed. "Hot or cold?"

"Fucking cold but I'll keep you warm."

Roy smiled softly.

"With the power of my ire," Jamie said, dropping underwear into his bag.

"I could be mad you didn't realise we were dating…" Roy said softly.

"It's normally a conversation."

"I named this house for you."

"Phoebe named it."

"Phoebe's nine, she wouldn't care if I rented this place out. You made it a fucking home."

"I," Jamie turned to look at Roy. "Let's have this conversation in the car so I don't forget to pack pants."

Roy nodded and followed Jamie's lead.

Twenty minutes later, Roy carried both their bags out to the car while Jamie checked on Cruyff, topped up the auto-feeder, and then grabbed some snacks for them both. He slid into the car next to Roy after whispering something to the driver. Then he turned to Roy.

"We're at the pub, we're back at my place, we have sex…I don't remember who started it…I wake up the next day and you're gone."

"I had an appointment and we'd barely slept."

"And then what happens?"

"We kept sleeping together until it was more than just sex."

"When did it change?" Jamie asked.

"When did what change?" Roy asked.

"When did it go from just sex to more for you?" Jamie asked.

Roy tightened the hold he had on his folded arms. He stared straight ahead and Jamie had to bite down on the inside of his bottom lip to keep from pushing. The silence stretched out, long and taut between them until finally Roy said, low and growled out. "It was never just sex for me."

Jamie deflated, the air around him sparking with the sudden rush of relief. "Then why did you think it was only sex for me?"

"You never…I always started it."

Jamie looked up and swore to whichever universal element was looking after a kid from a North Manchester council estate. "Because I thought you were just in it for the sex and I thought, well…at least he still likes me enough to train and cook meals and let me tag along on house stuff even if I only get to have sex with him and not everything else I want."

"What do you want?"

"Every-fucking-thing."

Roy looked at him. "You kept talking about moving out and buying your own house."

"I thought you were going to get sick of the sex eventually."

"It's really fucking good sex."

Jamie smiled and then forced it down. "Yeah?"

"Don't be like that; you know it has almost always been mind-blowing."

"Almost always?"

"There was that time you fell asleep halfway through a handjob."

"I was so tired…I woke up with your cock still in me hand though."

Roy flushed and looked over Jamie's shoulder. "I didn't want to move you, and it was nice so I just thought about other shit and fell asleep."

Jamie had to remind himself he wasn't going to just throw in the towel, crawl into Roy's side, kiss him, and forget there had ever been a misunderstanding. He really fucking wanted to kiss the corner of Roy's mouth right now.

Roy cleared his throat. "I thought you were just tracking time, having fun but eventually you were going to leave."

"I moved into your house."

"Yeah."

"And I helped you design the fucking place."

"That's the sort of shit you would do anyway; you're fucking Jamie fucking Tartt and you've cleaned houses and done gardens, and had a lot of fucking opinions about the colour people should paint their walls. I thought it was a novelty and I liked spending time with you and you didn't force me into anything I really didn't like or want. You fucking made the house a home and I couldn't imagine anyone else having it so I had to live there, even knowing that when you left me I was going to have to rattle around there all miserable or just keep it up until I could give it to Pheobe. I didn't think I could live there without you."

"I fucking love that house," Jamie told him. "I think I love it even more than Mummy's house."

Roy smiled at him, the soft one he only used when he was relaxed and it was just them. "Someone tried to buy it, and I just knew I was going to have to fucking live there. I suppose I hoped I could convince you to stay as long as I could."

"It was me."

"What?" Roy's eyebrows came together like the patch of hair on Cruyff's brow.

"I tried to buy the place, when you said you were selling it that day in the garden, I decided I couldn't let you," Jamie explained. "I found a real estate agent to contact you and make an offer."

Roy huffed out a laugh. "That's what made me realise I couldn't sell it, the first time I realised I might want to live there."

Jamie sank into the butter soft seat. "When Phoebe told me you hadn't had a home since you'd been nine, I wanted to make it such an excellent home that you could see yourself there."

"I can see myself there. I can see myself there with you."

"You're such a fucking softie," Jamie told Roy, he reached out and poked Roy in the shoulder.

"Keep that fucking knowledge to yourself," Roy grumbled.

"You moved me in that night with me Dad," Jamie said. "You stayed all night."

"Of course I did," Roy said. "I wanted to fucking murder your father when I heard how scared you were that night."

"You asked me to let you keep me safe for the night."

"It was still so early on," Roy said. "I didn't want you to think I was coming on too strong."

"If I knew we were in a relationship you'd have never fucking well been able to leave the house, you'd have been in my bed every night."

"My fucking knee couldn't have taken that air bed."

"I had the air mattress for a week. You paid the crew to work longer so we had a proper room."

"I didn't want you to leave because you were uncomfortable," Roy mumbled.

"I really wish I'd known that," Jamie said, wistfully, "I'd have taken advantage."

"For what?" Roy asked.

Jamie paused. "I don't know…a few more bookshelves?"

"How many fucking bodice rippers do you own?"

Jamie laughed. "I also have a bunch of murder books, and you read."

"Slowly," Roy told him.

"Ain't nothing wrong with being a slow reader," Jamie told him, not for the first time.

Roy nodded and waved the idea away. "You can do whatever you want to the house, just stay?"

"I'm staying," Jamie told him, reaching over and curling his hand around Roy's knee. Roy unfolded his arms and dropped one hand onto Jamie's, threading their fingers together. The car was silent for a long while, comfortable silence where Jamie felt the few drinks he'd had wear off and he wanted nothing more than to curl into Roy's side but he knew they weren't done yet.

Roy sat up straight when he saw the sign out the window. "Are we going to Manchester?"

"Nope, I should have grabbed some water."

"I did," Roy said, reaching down and grabbing the two stainless steel bottles.

"Thank you," Jamie told him.

"I should have said something about us dating," Roy said quietly. "But I was a bit distracted," Roy admitted.

Jamie wanted to make a joke about his sexual prowess, but he knew this wasn't the right time. He cocked an eyebrow in question and offered to listen to whatever Roy wanted to tell him.

"Dr Sharon and I have been working on something."

"Can you tell me?" Jamie asked him, watching Roy's body tense with each breath.

"I'm…gay," Roy said slowly, like it was the first time or he was pushing the words out.

"Okay."

"I always knew I liked blokes and I just thought I'm bisexual…it's not a big deal and I was worried about it impacting my career but no one ever seemed to fucking notice, or fucking care, that I was spending just as much time with men as women."

"That's what you said, you said you were bi."

"I'm not," Roy told him. "I made a comment about being in a relationship with you being so…fucking hell, so easy and comfortable and I thought it was because Phoebe is a bright little shit and knew you were my best friend when I refused to acknowledge it."

Jamie smiled. "It was easy, weren't it?"

"You didn't know we were dating."

"But it weren't drama. I didn't think you wanted me for anything but sex but spending time with ya was good."

"Yeah."

"But…Dr Sharon did her whole 'I can see into your soul through the words you didn't know would explain it all' thing?"

"Fucking smart woman. And what happened?"

"We worked through it, I worked through it until I realised that I've always been more drawn to men, but I always forced myself to have relationships with women and sex with men…until you, I thought we," Roy growled and rubbed at his face before folding his arms across his chest again and adjusted himself in his seat. Jamie looked down at Roy and frowned.

Jamie leaned forward and tapped on the back of Syd's chair. The driver lifted his headphone off his left ear. "Pull over at the next chance. Roy is sitting on the wrong side of the chair for his knee."

Roy grunted. "It will be fine."

"And tomorrow you'll be so fucking sore you won't be able to sit," Jamie said, looking at him.

"Will do," Syd said, dropping the headphone back down over his ear.

"Thank you," Roy said.

"You like being in a relationship with me…" Jamie prompted.

Roy rolled his eyes. "I let you do the fucking doe eyes until we had a fucking cat."

"You love Cruyff."

"I love you," Roy said, then stared at Jamie with wide eyes for a moment and let out a gentle. "Fuck…well I do but you didn't seem to want to stay with me long term so I wasn't going to fucking tell you."

"I think when we arrive at our destination," Jamie said. "We are going to shake hands on moving past all these misunderstandings, until then, tell me."

"I never wanted anyone in my space," Roy said. "I don't have a home so no one could ever move in with me, but I just floated through relationships or whatever they were letting myself fit into the spaces in their lives. It was different with Keeley; I tried to take up my own space then and we didn't match but I didn't really know how to do anything but pull away. So, with you I set a schedule."

"No overnights," Jamie said, understanding now… "then only weekends…then only weekends and Wednesdays like it was a custody arrangement or something?"

"I kept watching, waiting, trying to work out exactly when I became too much."

"You couldn't," Jamie said, he wanted to cry, his heart felt shattered and yet thumping too hard in his chest. "Every bit of you I got, I just wanted more. I hated you leaving."

"You told me to just bring a change of clothes for after training so I did."

"You offered to sleep downstairs."

"I-"

The car pulled off the road and Jamie took a sharp breath before scrambling out of the car and around to the other side. He opened the door before Roy had a chance and climbed back in, watching as Roy walked around more slowly, levered himself into the seat and rubbed at his knee when he got comfortable.

"Thanks, Syd."

They got back on the road, the scenery rushing past under the moonless sky. They sat next to one another in silence for a long time, Jamie was counting the lights outside waiting for Roy to be ready to speak again. He reached down into his bag and pulled out something to eat, handing Roy almonds while he ate the cashews. He would wait for Roy for as long as he needed. He kept his eyes on the container in his hand, eating the cranberries and handing Roy the sultanas.

Roy opened his mouth, and Jamie was about to turn when Roy's voice froze him.

"I know you're going to leave me eventually," Roy said quietly, voice unwavering and sure. "But for the first fucking time I don't want to leave first, I want to hold onto what I can have of you until you outgrow me and leave."

"Who the fuck says I'm going to outgrow you?" Jamie asked, turning in annoyance.

"You will, you'll realised one day that Richmond's not all you want, that you need more from a coach than I can give you, that you deserve more than a broken down old footballer who should get a knee reconstruction or replacement, that you want someone who is just as amazing as you are, maybe a woman you can have some kids with or a guy who will know how to give you everything you need."

"Or I could have the man I want, the one I'm in love with choose to stay and give me himself," Jamie said "Don't I get to decide? You're the person I want. I want to fill our house with our kids, I planned a bedroom on the ground floor so we'd have a place to sleep when you rehabbed, or so I could use it if I hurt myself again."

"One day you'll realise-" Roy started.

"Bullshit," Jamie told him, getting into Roy's space. "You are the love of my fucking life and unless you tell me you don't want me, that you don't love me, I'm choosing you and I'm going to fucking stand here, or fucking sit here, with you in that house we…no that fucking home we built together and make you realise that I'm worth taking a risk with your heart because I'm a sure thing, I'm a walk down the aisle in church and sit on rockers when we're old and tell the neighbours annoying stories about our grandkids guy."

Roy stared at Jamie.

"Do you love me?" Jamie asked.

"Yes."

"Then choose to think I know what I want."

Roy nodded, holding his hand out to Jamie. "I do want forever with you."

Jamie smiled. "I'm a little prick who gets what I want, Roy Kent, and what I want is you; even the parts of you that you don't think I could love."

"You are a little prick."

"At least I don't snore."

Roy growled. "I don't snore."

"Okay, Roy, whatever you say."

"You really thought I was just fucking you?"

"Yeah," Jamie said. "Seemed too good to be true."

"That I'd be attracted to you?"

"Yeah."

"Jamie, you're…fuck, you're…oh, for fuck's sake, you're fucking amazing," Roy spat.

Jamie snorted. "If it's that hard to tell me, how can it be true?"

"Because…if I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more."

Jamie gaped at him. "You did fucking not just do that."

Roy flushed. "What?"

"My grandpa used to read me Jane Austen – he said every man should know how to speak to a lady. And how better to learn than by reading a master with words who was also female. I know that's from 'Emma'."

"Fuck!"

Jamie laughed and couldn't resist the impulse to lean over and kiss Roy on the corner of the mouth.

"I need to fucking meet the rest of your fucking family."

Jamie beamed at him and then shook his head. "Grandpa died when I was fifteen."

Roy eyes softened and grew distant for a moment.

"But not before he could tease me about having a little crush on this fit footballer from Chelsea."

"I mean it," Roy said. "I'm not good with words so I stole someone else's but I…you're fucking Jamie Tartt and you are a fucking octopus in the night and you drool when you're really tired and you do cryptic crosswords in the bath and read really trashy romance novels and are the biggest prick I have ever met and your feet were fucking kissed by the gods of football and I built a pool under the house for you – after it was almost fully built and I drove to Manchester to meet your little sister and I will follow you to whatever club you end up at when you leave Richmond…if you want me to and I don't have words for how I feel about you. It's something that threads through all of the veins in my body the same way playing football does and it's fucking terrifying."

"You're pretty good with words," Jamie told him. "I don't need fucking soliloquies or nothing."

Roy rolled his eyes, smiling. "Honestly, who the fuck are you? Why do you hide all of this away?"

"Because it's all the stuff me dad would have a go at me for…being soft, being a pansy who reads lady books and it's the private stuff – the stuff that's really me that not everyone can see or understand or love."

"I'm not like him and I don't want you to think I'm judging you."

"You don't," Jamie smirked. "That first time you found me with a cryptic crossword you climbed into the bath fucking fast for an old man…had to buy me a new book and everything."

Roy smiled at the memory. "Only thing that would have been hotter would have been a pair of those little fucking spectacles."

"One day," Jamie told him. "Fucking hell, Roy, this is mad and amazing, only downside is now we gotta explain it to the team."

"I think they might have known – they said as much tonight so we probably don't have to explain much," Roy said. "It was probably news that you were unaware of the fact."

"What?"

"Remember when they got all fucking stupid and told us they knew we were living together?"

Jamie gaped. "I'd told Sam I was looking for another place."

"And they all share one fucking neuron, so they tried to fix it."

Jamie slapped his hand into his head. "You owe me a fucking amazing holiday in summer."

"Aren't we fucking going to Spain in the summer for you to finish your house?"

"With Mummy and Phoebe," Jamie told him. "That's not the type of holiday I mean. I mean like going to the Maldives and not getting dressed for two weeks."

Roy's eyes flicked to Syd. "I'll chat to my travel agent."

Jamie's eyes blew wide. "Do you get paper tickets, I hear people used to get paper tickets not ones you have to print yourself."

Roy growled at him.

"I'm fucking serious, we can start a scrapbook."

"Fucking fuck," Roy grumbled. "Yes, I get real tickets."

"Mint."

"Where are we going?"

Jamie looked down at his watch…surprised at how much time had passed. "We've got a few hours to go."

Roy squinted at him. "We could have flown."

"We couldn't have talked in a plane, and you can't tell me you don't prefer a nice car ride."

"I don't mind a car ride."

Jamie grinned. "Let's recap, we're dating and have been for six months and you're in love with me and next time there is a major relationship development we should both know it's happening and I'm going to keep living with you and you're going to fucking love dating me when I know about it and we're going somewhere private for a sex holiday and you're going to go and see a doctor about your fucking knee."

Roy growled.

"Because I love you too and you're going to have to keep up with me for the rest of our fucking lives."

"I'll talk to Ruth about who to see."

Jamie smiled at him and undid his seatbelt, sliding over in the car and rebuckling himself into the middle seat.

"What are you…" Roy stopped as Jamie curled into his side and tucked his feet up on the seat next to him.

"I'm going to have a nap."

"Okay," Roy said, lifting his arm and welcoming Jamie to curl into his side more comfortably.

Jamie smiled at he pressed himself tight and Roy let all of the tension of the night seep out at the warm press of the younger man against him.

"I love you, Roy."

Roy let out a pleased huff of breath. "I love you too, Jamie."

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