Chapter Text
Jamie stood on the doorstep before he realized this place was where his feet had taken him, the painted red door just dark enough to be called burgundy.
A large driveway spacious enough to fit at least a dozen cars comfortably with shrubs outlined the paved entryway, rich person vibes as he liked to say yet still homely.
However, he was not here for the ambiance of the house tucked away among trees and grass without the interference of the city. A part of him wondered exactly why was he there and not in some pub drowning his sorrows or perhaps between the thighs of an easy beauty. A louder part of his unfortunate subconscious whispered he knew exactly why he chose this house and not the aforementioned bad ideas.
A mailbox at the end of the driveway read POTTER in white block letters on the red box.
The hand he used to punch his father stung still and no matter how much he washed it the skin burned, throbbing in an annoyingly unpleasant way that had nothing to do with the right hook he threw.
He felt disgusted.
Humiliated in a way he had not felt in a very long time, and in front of his teammates no less, the family he always craved to have as a child but never was blessed to get.
That made it all the worse, to be spoken to in front of men he respected and in turn desired to have their respect and at the very least, their tentative liking.
Jamie did not know how long he stood there staring at the door without truly seeing it, his hand trembling as it did back in the locker room. The door opened without his notice and Jamie looked up to stare at the concerned face of the only person who gave him solace as of late, and without a word, he was enveloped in a hug.
Jamie froze at the contact, body tense and eyes wide before his stiff arms raised to wrap around the back of the man, fingers clutching the soft sweater, and like ice in contact with heat he thawed.
The tremble in his hand reverberated up his arm until his entirety shook, a sob wrenching its way from his core and there he cried, body shuddering and face hidden in the shoulder of his peace, the warmth embracing Jamie tightly not shushing him just holding onto him even when his legs gave out and his breath turned short.
He was scared, still was hours after the altercation in the locker room with his father and it felt as though he was once again transported back into the body of his younger self, each day filled with fear and the aching pain of being hit.
He was scared of going back there, to that dark place that held no light, happiness, warmth, or affection. He didn’t want to go back.
“Jamie… Jamie?”
Hands cradled his face and he slowly raised his gaze to look into the warm evergreen eyes that stared back at him with so much worriment he felt the tears well up once more, slightly callous thumbs brushing away the salty drops that seemed nearly neverending.
His eyes were burning and his nose stuffy but he couldn’t stop crying though he wanted to.
Time disjointed and when he came to again he laid in a dimly lit room, a bedside table on the other end of the bed glowing a faint illumination, just enough he would not be entirely in the dark but not too bright to hurt his eyes.
Jamie felt tired, a deep soul reaching exhaustion that seemed as though it reached the very marrow of his bones, and without a sound, he turned to bury his face in the bare chest he knew laid behind him, arms tightening the hold on him.
“'Arry?” Jamie mumbled, an embarrassed flush creeping along his neck as his hoarse voice cracked from both sleep and the ungodly amount of tears he had shed.
“Hm?”
“Am I a fuck up? Is sumthin' wrong with me?” Jamie asked. Since the conversation with Higgins and after seeing Sam interact with his father he wondered if it was simply him that was the problem.
Many people liked his father but for some reason, he and Jamie had never seen eye to eye, and as time progressed their interactions involved fists, nothing like the Obisanya family that seemed to radiate pure unconditional love.
“There’s nothing wrong with you Jamie, you are not the problem.” the conviction in the voice above his head nearly made his head spin and Jamie sputtered.
“But what if -”
His head was tilted upward and even in the faint light he could see just how lovely Harry's eyes were, a blazing green that almost seemed unnatural, Harry’s face set in an expression he couldn’t name, not quite angry but also not passive.
“Your father is an asshole Jamie, cut and dry. You are a wonderful man and I wish you could see the person that I do, that the twins see and love. You deserved none of what he did to you, you know that right?”
Harry watched the confliction cross Jamie’s features and with a tsk of agitation, not towards his younger lover but the bastard who made him doubt his own capacity to feel love and be loved.
Sitting up Harry moved from under the plush covers and stood, his hand held out to the soccer player who stared up at him in evident confusion.
“Come on, up you go.” Harry wiggled his fingers and Jamie grabbed it. Standing he blinked up at the older man and then looked down at the comfy sweat pants he wore, only then did he notice his change of dress compared to when he arrived at the household.
“You changed me clothes.” he mumbled and Harry pressed a soft kiss to Jamie’s forehead before leading the way out of the bedroom to downstairs where the afternoon sun shone brightly through the glass windows of the kitchen.
Jamie realized with horror he had slept for a better part of a day and if he included last night it was certainly longer.
“I called your coach. Mr. Lasso was very understanding. He said he’ll expect to see you on the pitch tomorrow bright and early.” Harry interjected Jamie’s thoughts before he could spiral and Jamie nodded numbly, his bum sitting in the cushioned chair by the kitchen island.
He had no time to question anything not when the sound of racing feet brought two children around the corner.
“Jamie! Jamie!” the twin squeals of his name, the chair tipping backward only to be steadied by Harry’s hands.
“Sirius, Lily.” Harry chastised softly and the twins mumbled a quick sorry before they snuggled up to Jamie, hands clinging to him, and just like that Jamie felt as though everything in his world would be okay.
Peering down into the dual faces of the eight-year-olds, both having inherited Harry’s green eyes but with heads of auburn hair.
Jamie was quickly swept up in the tidal wave of the twins' enthusiasm, his previous melancholy chased away and within minutes he found himself being dragged to the living room and handed a control for the game on the flat screen.
Harry listened to the happy shrieks and Jamie’s booming laughter followed by Sirius’s indignant shout, his hands working to mix the chocolate chip pancake batter as the chicken tenders fried in a pan on the stove. The fruit bowl and orange juice were already chilling in the fridge from hours prior, the twins refusing to officially eat breakfast until Jamie woke up so Harry settled with pouring them both a small bowl of cereal.
He was not much of a soccer fan or a sports fan in general but he had watched the match Jamie had mentioned quickly in a conversation, wedged between one topic and the next. It was a rather one-sided defeat and he anticipated the arrival of the younger man but not to the capacity of what occurred last night.
Between Jamie crying himself to sleep, Harry changing his clothes and tucking him into bed, a terse conversation with a man named Roy Kent who had practically interrogated him before asking if Jamie was okay. Then a rather pleasant if not overly peppy call from Jamie’s coach Ted Lasso - Harry quickly gathered what happened to cause the normally sassy and energetic man to be reduced to the crying mess last night.
Jamie spoke about his father in passing but never in plentitude. James Tartt never took up a conversation but he was the cause of most of Jamie’s troubles.
Leaning against the archway to the living room he watched as Jamie blocked Lily’s vision and caused the little girl’s character on the racing game to drive off a rainbow bridge, Sirius howling with laughter before he too was defeated.
Hearing Jamie laugh was perhaps one of the few indulgences Harry allowed himself, his laughter and happiness contagious and like this all childish and beaming exuberance, this was how Jamie should be.
Jamie tilted his head back and Harry gave in to the urge and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. Ignoring his children’s synced sounds of ‘eww’ before they cheered when the little green dinosaur on the screen was taken out by a red turtle shell, Jamie far too preoccupied with tasting Harry to care in the least, a dopey smile on his face.
“Up you three, breakfast is ready.” Harry murmured and the twins cheered, grabbing one hand each they hauled Jamie out of the room and deposited the soccer player between them at the table, Harry serving them all pancakes, chicken tenders, and some fruit each, the portions varying.
After breakfast Harry pushed a glass of protein shake towards Jamie who raised a brow “You tryna say I’m skinny or sumthin'?”
Snorting Harry gave the perky ass clothed in the white three-quarter sweats a gentle pat. “Hardly, I just think you’ll need it.” he intoned, body crowding the other against the counter before in one clean sweep lifted him up onto the island top, and it would be a cold day in hell should Jamie ever fail in being turned on by the show of strength.
For someone who looked as if they spent most of their time on a couch reading or in a library reorganizing books, Harry was strong enough to lift and hold him up with ease, the comfortable sweaters and cardigans he often wore hiding the bulk.
Jamie relished in the kiss, the gentle pressing of lips and the teasing nips of teeth before it deepened and he found himself floating on a cloud as Harry snuggled into his neck, the older man nuzzling him until Jamie chuckled, his hands petting the soft hair along his nape.
“Yer like a dog.” he teased, grinning at the bite to his neck and he wondered if the thumping of his heart and the warmth he felt in his belly could be explained as being inexplicably in love.
“Woof.” Harry barked and Jamie choked on a giggle, his ears turning red when Harry in turn chuckled.
He didn’t feel this blossoming heat with Keeley or any of the other women he had been with, romantic or simple shags in a bed that was not his own. With Keeley, he was allowed to be the asshole he pretended to be and for a long time he forgot that side of him was just a persona, a mask that had been glued on too tight and Keeley had just gone along with it and in the process got hurt.
With Harry who accepted none of his bullshit but all of his flaws, who touched and cradled him with such tenderness it made Jamie feel special, as if he were a fragile thing with caution tape wrapped around it.
Harry was patient and affectionate, his words and actions always true and never crude.
He felt safe here, wrapped in the arms of this man he had met on Keeley’s stupid app where there were no images just words. No one knew about him and Harry or even knew that the infamous womanizer Jamie Tartt was now perhaps bisexual or perhaps gay.
This was something he kept dear to his heart, too afraid it could end and he would once again be left in shambles, and too afraid it could last and he would ruin it somehow.
He had not expected to like the older man and when the proposition for a quick bite at a little hole in the wall cafe that served what could possibly be the best scones Jamie had ever tasted he fully expected it to be a disaster, yet three scones later he found himself engrossed.
Four lowkey dates later at places that were equally great but did not have anyone who could recognize him Jamie found himself tumbling into bed again and again with Harry until one day the man introduced him to his children who had gawked at him.
After three rounds of the stadium chant the fans bestowed upon him were repeated by the little girl and boy both he then weathered Harry’s stifled laughter as his children continued to shout it at the top of their lungs.
“Jamie are you ready!?” Lily asked as she rounded the corner, not even batting an eyelash at seeing her father and Jamie in such a position. Tilting his head he raised a brow.
“Ready fo’ wut?”
As Lily rattled off the apparent itinerary for the day Harry placed the protein shake in his hands. “Like I said, you’ll need it.”
That night after a full meal of homemade fish and chips, beer for the adults, and grape juice for the twins, bedtime rolled around and Jamie accepted his designated task of tucking the twins into their respective beds before he made his way up to the little study room above the master bedroom.
It was a small space with a soft but thick carpet covering the entire floor space, a miniature bookshelf filled to the brim with books about the stars, and planets. The most prominent thing in the room however was the sleek black astronomy telescope that pointed upward to the dark blue sky.
“Do you see it? The Dogstar.” Harry asked, teeth nipping the pierced earlobe and Jamie’s breath hitched, his hips stuttering in a desperate effort to chase the orgasm that was steadily building.
The copious lube squelched where they were connected, Harry buried to the hilt inside of him and Jamie wondered what kind of perverts they were that they couldn’t even take off their pants, Jamie’s fresh sweats pushed down just below his bum with enough space for Harry to press inside.
Harry sucked another hickey along the expanse of Jamie’s neck, his hand slowly stroking over the rigid cock in his palm as he lazily rocked back and forth in no hurry to finish either of them off.
It was slow torture but Jamie did not complain, only tried his best to fuck up into the hand wrapped around his prick and back down on the cock filling him.
Only when his name fell from Jamie’s lips in quick succession, a plead bordering on distress did Jamie find himself on his back, the sweats taken off entirely and his legs spread.
He watched with bright eyes, pupils blown wide and heart hammering in his chest as the lube slick cock nudged at his hole again and the breath was unceremoniously knocked from his body as Harry plunged in, cock filling Jamie once more in such a delicious fashion it made his toes curl.
Clinging to the sweater, a sharp contrast from last night. he wrapped his legs around Harry's waist as the older man fucked him, his cock withdrawing a few inches then descending back down into the warm wetness of Jamie's hole, balls slapping against the curve of his ass.
It was gut-punching how deep Harry reached, how wide his cock could stretch Jamie’s hole, and just how high Jamie found his voice could pitch as Harry made a mess of him, pushing him closer and closer to the edge. Moans so abridged and incoherent Jamie lost himself in the process of the well-aimed thrusts to the sweet spot Harry had introduced him to the first time they had sex months ago.
He knew Harry had intended to be gentle and slow but he needed this , not because he believed he deserved it but simply because he wanted to feel Harry unrestrained and unhindered under his palms, on top of him, inside of him, the powerful presence of the man who was his boyfriend and Jamie’s comfort.
Jamie’s legs stayed suspended in the air cradled by the same loving hands that held him as he cried, Harry’s lips colliding with his, and Jamie would never grow tired of how good it felt to kiss the man, how wonderful Harry tasted against his tongue.
“Harry… M’gonna cum 'arry… 'm gonna cum!” Jamie whimpered and Harry murmured his encouragement, his own orgasm ready to crest as well.
Jamie gasped, a deep body inhale whilst he shuddered, his cock bobbing between their bodies as spurts of cum landed on his chest and belly.
He groaned when Harry followed behind from the rhythmic clenching of Jamie’s hole, the sensation never failing to make Jamie preen.
In the comfort of Harry’s arms Jamie snuggled closer, teeth worrying the pink bottom lip.
“'Arry?”
“Hmm?” the older man hummed, his eyes still closed and neither of them had yet to move to redress or clean up, in fact Jamie was trying his best to keep his butt clenched just so as to not stain the plush carpet they laid on.
“I want you to meet me family, even the boss lady. W-would tha’ be okay wit you?”
Harry opened his eyes and stared at his younger lover. It was obvious Jamie was nervous and he drew him close again to press a kiss to his forehead.
“I would love to.”