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1.
The first time it happens it's mostly surprising. And also kind of an accident.
It's right before a match and Jamie's checking his hair in the little mirror in his cubby, because okay some things just never change. Just because he's not a fucking prick anymore it doesn't mean he should have shitty hair. He nods to himself, pleased with the result - he's fucking fit; what else’s new, right? - and straightens up, only that he's apparently miscalculated his movement or something, because the edge of the shelf above him scratches his forehead.
"Fucking hell," he mutters and brushes his fingers across his forehead, before shrugging and deciding he's fine. He's had worse. Whatever. He'll forget all about it the moment the game starts.
A minute later they're gathering in a circle and waiting for Isaac to count down from twelve before yelling Richmond, ready for the match.
"Oi. Tartt," Roy says before Jamie can exit the locker room with the other lads and Jamie stays behind, hesitantly turning to look at Roy. He's pretty sure he didn't do anything bad this time, but with Roy who fucking knows.
"Yeah, Coach?"
"You're fucking bleeding."
Jamie frowns in confusion, before remembering the scratch from earlier. He touches his forehead and grimaces when he sees the blood on his fingers. It's barely anything, but now is no time for this shit.
"Fuck."
Roy shakes his head clearly in disapproval, like it's Jamie's fault the fucking shelf decided to attack him and okay maybe it fucking is, but Roy doesn't need to make it such big of a deal, keeping him behind and all that.
"I can play with a little scratch, you know," Jamie says, just in case Roy's getting any stupid ideas. Besides, the team fucking need him, Jamie can't just abandon them for no reason. They're probably already wondering where he is. Or maybe they're used to Roy wanting to see him in private. Jamie wonders if it looks weird to any of them; like if they think that he and Roy-
"I know, you twat. Come on," Roy says and nods towards the coaches' office.
Jamie follows him inside, because what else's he supposed to do, right?
"Sit," Roy tells him and Jamie leans against the edge of Roy's desk, as Roy rummages inside his drawer, looking for God knows what. "Stay still," he says then and before Jamie can ask why and what the fuck's going on, there's a cotton thingy with alcohol being pressed to his scratch, making Jamie hiss.
"Ouch, you arsehole," he whines and Roy shrugs in a way that clearly means 'I told you to stay still, didn't I', as if that would fucking help Jamie in any way.
Roy brushes the cotton over the scratch a couple of times, throws it in the bin and reaches in the drawer again, grabbing what seems to be a packet of band aids- with fucking cartoons on them.
"Are these for kids?"
"They're my niece's. Say fucking something."
Jamie pouts. Always so fucking rude. "Can I at least choose?"
Roy lets out an exasperated sigh, but nods, giving him the packet. "Go on."
"Oh, do you not have Elsa? I only see Anna, Olaf-" he stops talking when he sees Roy's glare. "Fine fine. Can I have an Anna, please?"
Roy nods approvingly. "Good boy."
Jamie doesn't know what he did to earn that, but he can't help but smile, his face getting a little warm. Okay, maybe Roy's not always rude. Sometimes he's nice and makes Jamie's inside feel all weird and confusing but like in a good way.
Jamie stays still as Roy steps in front of him, almost between his legs, approaching rather close to him so he can carefully place the band aid. He's gentle as he's does so, firstly brushing Jamie's hair away from his forehead, fingers touching him softly, managing to completely avoid the scratch.
"Ready," Roy announces then and Jamie's 'thank you' gets stuck in his throat, because then Roy's lips are on his forehead, pressing a quick, casual kiss there.
"Uh-"
"Fuck. Sorry. Fucking force of habit."
Oh. Right. Makes sense. With the band aids being his niece's and all.
"S'fine," Jamie says, awkwardly clearing his throat and doing his fucking best to not reach and brush his fingers across the spot Roy just kissed.
Fuck.
2.
So the thing is Jamie scored a fucking hat-trick on the last match. It was his first this season and it was also the first match they won after fucking Zava left. So, yeah, it felt pretty fucking important both for him and for the team of course.
And well, Jamie can't help but feel that something was behind this. Like sure he's fucking amazing, duh, but maybe he needed some help. And he knows it's probably a bad idea to ask, but bad ideas are usually his fucking specialty, so he has to fucking try.
They're about to head out to the pitch. Jamie takes a deep breath, preparing himself for how fucking horribly this might go.
Everyone's starting to walk out of the locker room and Jamie stays back, hesitantly approaching Roy.
"Uh," he glances at Ted and Beard for a moment, wondering how fucking awkward it'll be if they just stand there during this whole conversation. Jamie hadn't considered that. Fuck. Anyway, he's here now and he's not backing away. He turns to Roy then, putting on his best good boy expression. "Hey, Coach. Can I talk to you?"
Roy frowns but nods his head and thankfully Ted and Beard take the hint that this is meant to be a private conversation and leave the locker room with the rest of the team. "What's wrong?" Roy asks once they're alone. "Is it your hamstrings? Because I fucking told you you're not fucking doing enough stretches-"
This fucking guy.
"Fuck off, man. My hamstrings are fucking fine-" Jamie shuts his mouth. Right. Bestest good boy behaviour. "It's, uh, nothing really. It's probably stupid but... Last match I scored three goals, yeah?"
"I'm aware of that, Tartt."
"I mean, yeah, of course. Duh. You were there and all."
"Is this going somewhere?" Roy says and fuck, Jamie's losing him. Okay, here it fucking goes.
"Oh right. Yeah... So I was thinking maybe, I don't know, maybe the forehead kiss was like my lucky charm or something?"
Jamie didn't think it was possible for Roy to look even more unimpressed, but Roy proves him wrong.
"Before you say no, it wouldn't hurt to just try it, right? And like, if it doesn't work, we'll just pretend it never happened. Yeah?"
Roy doesn't give an answer right away, like he's actually considering this, which is definitely a good sign.
"Please?" Jamie adds, for good measure, and Roy lets out a long-suffering sigh, which clearly means he's about to do something he might regret. Fuck yeah!
"Fucking fine. Come here."
Jamie tries to not grin as he does as he's told, stepping closer to Roy so Roy can kiss his forehead. It's quick; quicker than the accidental one, Roy's lips barely there and gone. Jamie doesn't point any of that out of course, because he'd like to live, thank you very much. He just hopes that won't affect the magic, or whatever, of the kiss.
"Okay, now fucking go."
By the end of the match Jamie has two goals and an assist.
Oh yeah, this is definitely working!
3.
"-and that's why Dani's hair looks so soft all the time. Crazy, right? And Sam said-"
"Jesus Christ. If you don't shut the fuck up, we're gonna stay here for another two hours and we're gonna keep going until your legs are fucking shaking and you're begging me to stop," Roy threatens him and Jamie's eyebrows shoot up, because he's pretty sure he's wanked to fantasies close to that quite a few times; Roy included.
"That sounds like a fun time, Coach," Jamie's says and Roy glares at him, probably only then realising what he said.
"Not like that, you twat," he says, shaking his head, but it almost looks fond.
Jamie grins at him and continues doing his stretches, doing his best to stay silent, but he only makes it to like one minute before he breaks.
"So, I was thinking, Coach," Jamie starts and can't help but smile when Roy raises his eyebrows in disbelief. Fucking arsehole. "Shut up, I do think sometimes."
An almost-smile forms on Roy's lips, which for Roy standards it's like equal to a full grin, and Jamie feels a proud warmth bloom in his chest. He likes making people feel good and smile, but with Roy it feels even more special. It's fucking nice.
"Anyway, as I was saying. I think we should level up our magic, lucky, little trick. I mean, we want our trainings to go well, too. Right? It's the only logical thing to do, really."
Roy doesn't seem to agree. "Aren't you a little too old to believe in magic tricks?"
"Oh please, Coach. Superstitions and football go together, ain't they?"
And he's clearly right, because Roy just shrugs in reply.
"Wouldn't want to fuck this up, would we? That's why I thought it'd be a fucking fantastic idea to start doing that on our trainings, too. I bet it'll make me even better. Maybe it'll help me focus more, you know." Is it actually magic or is it just Jamie soaking up all the attention he can get from Roy? No one needs to know the answer to that. Not even Jamie actually, because he refuses to dwell on any of that.
"I'm not fucking kissing your fucking forehead in the middle of the fucking park, if that's what you're fucking suggesting," Roy tells him and okay Jamie was expecting this, but he still can't help but pout.
"Okay."
Roy just grunts and doesn't say anything after that and for once neither does Jamie and they stay in silence for the next few minutes as Jamie finishes with his stretching.
Jamie doesn't mean to be a little bitch about this, but he was quite excited about it and now he possibly fucked it all up and he doesn't really know what to say to fix it.
They walk together to Jamie's house once they’re done, since Roy usually drives there and he has to take his car to get home. Jamie makes little comments here and there, trying to see where they stand, but Roy only grunts in reply. And that could actually be a good thing because it's Roy and usually Jamie can tell Roy's grunts apart, but right now he's not so sure, so he can only keep fucking stressing about it.
"See you in a few hours, Coach," Jamie says once they're there, leaving Roy to his car and heading to his front door.
"Tartt," Roy says and Jamie turns to him, bracing himself for whatever will come. He hopes he didn't fuck up too bad earlier-
Roy steps closer, kisses his forehead and then pulls away again. "Don't be fucking late," he says and gets in his car, probably thinking how stupid Jamie looks just standing in front of his house and smiling like an idiot for no reason.
Only that there absolutely is a fucking reason, isn't there?
4.
So Jamie might be pushing his luck here, but he's not known for making good decisions, so why the fuck should he start now.
He makes sure he's one of the first ones to finish with the showers after training and quickly gets dressed before heading to Roy's office.
He knocks on the door but doesn't wait for Roy to answer before getting in, mainly because it's Roy and he would probably tell Jamie to fuck off. Well, not today!
Roy narrows his eyes at him but doesn't say anything, just watches as Jamie comes closer until he can sit on Roy's desk. That does earn him a glare but Jamie just smiles at him, swinging his legs back and forth.
"What is it now?" Roy asks, as if Jamie makes it a habit of annoying him all the fucking time or something. Which okay, now that Jamie thinks about it it's probably not that far from the truth.
"What, can't I just wanna check on my favourite coach? See how you doing and everything?"
"Fucking doubt it. We spend half the fucking day together."
Huh. They do, don't they. Jamie hadn't thought about it like that.
"Okay, maybe I need a favor," he admits and Roy's already glaring at him; so negative, this guy. "So some of the lads are coming over at me house for Fifa. And Isaac fucking always wins, yeah ... So I was thinking... Maybe you could help me-"
"Absolutely fucking not."
"Oh, come on, Coach. Don't be like that. Just this one time? Pretty please?" Jamie says and pouts, just a little. Maybe even bats his eyelashes. He doesn't really expect it to work or anything, but desperate times and all.
Only that Roy lets out a defeated sigh, looking disappointed with himself, but also not really.
"Can't fucking believe I'm doing this. You think other Premier League coaches are doing shit like this?"
Jamie presses his lips together so he won't laugh, but he can't hide the smile forming on his lips. "That's why you're the best," he says earnestly and leans in for his forehead kiss.
"Thanks, Coach. I'm gonna text you to let you know how it went."
"Not necessary."
"No, I'm gonna!"
"Don't make me fucking block you," Roy threatens him but there's no bite behind the words. Jamie blows him a kiss as he heads to the office's door, his grin only widening when Roy rolls his eyes, familiar and fond and making Jamie's chest feel all weird and shit in the nicest fucking way.
5.
So, things haven’t been going very well lately. No, fuck that. Actually the last few games have been absolutely shit. Jamie doesn't even remember when the last time they won was- only that that's a big fucking lie, because they only have two wins since fucking Zava left, so of course Jamie remembers, but it still sucks. The lads' mood seems to be only getting worse to the point that not even Dani's football is life sounds enthusiastic anymore, and Jamie does try to cheer them up but he's started to get quite disappointed as well.
All this hard fucking work and they've gotten only one point in the last five games. Fucking depressing.
He doesn't go to Roy for his forehead kiss during the next match. It seems kind of stupid now, when they're just going worse and worse. It feels like he's just wasting Roy's kisses and time for fucking nothing.
They lose of course and then another week passes and it's time for another match. Right before that, when everyone's still getting ready, Roy calls him into the coaches' office.
And with everything going fucking shit, Jamie's worried about what Roy's going to tell him. Perhaps he'll tell Jamie that their trainings are clearly not working and they should stop. Because sure Jamie's scoring, but they're still losing, and even though they've been training for months Jamie's obviously still not good enough. So, what's the point, right? Just two years ago Jamie would be happy about his goals, team be damned, but it's not like that anymore.
"Why are you fucking frowning?" Roy asks once they're inside the office, the door closing behind them.
"What, I'm not fucking frowning," Jamie says and probably frowns even more. Whatever.
Roy stares at him for a long moment, making Jamie want to hide or something. He settles with pulling his sleeves over his hands, waiting for Roy to speak. He must have called him here for a reason.
"No good luck needed anymore?"
Oh.
Jamie's heart skips a beat at the words. He honestly thought Roy would hardly notice that and that even if he did, he wouldn't mention it, probably happy to get rid of Jamie and not having to deal with him outside of their trainings. But well, Roy just proved him wrong, didn’t he? "What's the point, Coach? Even when I score the team still loses."
"Oi, I'm not starting to kiss the whole fucking team."
Jamie snorts, smiling despite himself. That'd be fucking funny. But also he quite likes being the only one that gets a forehead kiss from Roy. It feels special and like it's not just a stupid little thing Roy indulges him in for some reason. "No, shut up. That's not what I'm saying," he clarifies, just to be sure, and doesn't miss the way Roy's lips twitch for a moment.
"Listen, you can't control fucking everything during a match, okay? You already fucking know that. All you can fucking do is just fucking go out there and do your fucking best."
"Yeah, well, clearly me best ain't enough."
"Says fucking who?"
"Me," Jamie says, shrugging. "The results, too."
"Bullshit. You still show up for the team and you're still fucking trying and you're getting fucking better and that's what matters," Roy tells him, his voice serious and firm, daring Jamie to disagree. Jamie's not that dumb, despite what most people might think. "And also you fucking score. That's obviously fucking important too."
Jamie smiles and does his best to not avert his gaze, because this all feels a bit overwhelming and his face is getting warm and Roy's still looking at him all intense and Roy-like, but without any hint of anger and it's... it's a lot. "Thanks, Coach," he says and hopes Roy understands how much Jamie means it. Roy didn't have to say any of that, didn't even have to ask Jamie what's wrong or anything and Jamie truly appreciates it. He tries not to think too much into it, but he can't help but think that maybe Roy actually cares about him, even a little, as crazy as it sounds.
"Yeah yeah. Now fucking come here," Roy says, but doesn't wait for Jamie to do so. He brings one of his hand to Jamie and cups the back of his head, pulling him closer until he can press his lips to Jamie's forehead. This kiss doesn't end the moment it started, like the previous ones. Roy lingers there for a second or two too long and Jamie has to force himself to actually move when eventually, unfortunately, Roy pulls away.
And Jamie also keeps his mouth shut right after, because 'this was fucking nice' is probably not what Roy would like to hear and Jamie doesn't want to ruin this and make it weird for Roy.
He does smile at Roy though, he can't help that.
He worries that he won't be able to focus on the game after that, but the moment his feet touch the grass he's not thinking about anything else. He doesn't score and they don't win, but Jamie can't bring himself to get upset about it. Not when suddenly there are other things occupying his mind.
+ 1
Roy growls in frustration and gets off the bike, glaring at it and looking ready to attack it. Again.
"No no, wait!" Jamie says, desperately trying to think of something to say that’ll stop Roy from murdering the bike, when a great fucking idea comes to him. How the fuck did he not think of it an hour ago when Roy was threatening to kill him. "I think I know what's wrong."
"Yeah, that I'm fucking shit at this," Roy says, another growl following the words. "Fuck that. I'm too fucking old for this. Training, or whatever the fuck this is, is over."
So fucking dramatic.
Jamie has to hide his smile so Roy won't think he's making fun of him or anything. Jamie truly isn't. He's just having fun, is all.
"No. Come on, Coach. You can't give up now. You're doing so well!" And okay that might be a bit of an exaggeration. Roy's doing okay-ish. But he can do it, Jamie knows it! "There's just one more thing we have to try before you give up, okay? Come here."
Roy just glares at him and doesn't make the slightest move to come closer. What an arsehole. Jamie's not even annoyed by it. He just rolls his eyes, still holding back a smile, and goes to Roy.
Roy of course, being Roy, just stands there like a fucking statue or something, which means Jamie has to get really close to him and also get on his toes, before placing a kiss on Roy's forehead.
He pulls away a bit hesitantly, expecting a growl or a threat from Roy but nothing comes and Jamie can't help smiling- because how can he fucking not? He also pretends he doesn't see Roy's cheeks being slightly pink, because he doesn't want his body to be found in one of the canals in Amsterdam. But he does notice and he knows he'll be thinking about it. It's fucking cute.
"Okay, you're ready. Now you can do it," Jamie announces, receiving another unimpressed glare from Roy.
"This is fucking ridiculous," he grumbles, but he doesn't give up, getting back on the bike.
And okay it takes more than a few tries, but they get there eventually and that's all that matters!
"Fucking told you, didn't I?"
"Yeah yeah, you were right for once. Whatever."
Jamie grins and sticks his tongue out at Roy, who rolls his eyes, but is smiling too. He looks like he's in a good mood, definitely happier than he seemed on the bus earlier, and Jamie feels kind of proud of himself for maybe being a small part of the reason why.
When Roy announced they'd be training today, Jamie wasn't expecting them to spend the whole day together, but he's definitely not complaining. He's actually quite disappointed that it's getting late and they'll probably have to start riding back to the hotel in a bit.
Or maybe that's not really an option, Jamie thinks, when he notices Roy slowing down, grimacing with every move he makes.
It's probably his knee, Jamie realizes, feeling a bit guilty for insisting on them taking the bikes. He stops himself from asking Roy if he's okay, because if Roy wanted to acknowledge it he'd have said something by now. Instead, Jamie just suggests they take a break and maybe sit down on the grass for a little while to rest.
Roy only grunts in agreement, but he does look relieved when they finally sit down, his knee making fucking horrible noises as he settles on the grass.
"Today was nice," Jamie says after a few moments of silence, knowing better than to expect Roy to talk first.
"You're not mad you missed the night out with the lads?"
"Nah, I bet we had more fun, even with the threats and all," Jamie jokes, but Roy's expression turns serious and he looks almost guilty, which is absolutely not why Jamie said it.
"Yeah, I'm sorry about that," Roy says, acknowledging it for the second time today. Jamie's about to say that it's okay, that there's no need for Roy to apologize or anything, but he stops himself. He actually really appreciates the apology, even more so because he knows it wasn't easy for Roy, so he just smiles at him, hoping Roy understands they're all good.
"Did you have fun?" Jamie asks then, raising his eyebrows expectantly.
"Eh, it was alright, I suppose," Roy replies, but he's smiling now, like a full on smile, one of those rare ones. Like that day at the auction when they were both being pricks but also joking, only that it's softer now and it's Roy's teasing him, so the answer to his question must be yes.
"Careful, almost sounds like you like spending time with me."
Roy snorts. "You're only figuring this out now?"
Wait, what?
Jamie opens his mouth to answer, then closes it again. Roy shakes his head, looking amused and fond and like he's not joking?
"Wait, you actually do?" A wide grin forms on Jamie's lips and he doesn't even bother to hide his enthusiasm as he continues. "Does that mean you like me now?" Roy hasn't been barely tolerating him all this time then, like Jamie thought? "So, am I your favourite in the team, Coach? I won't tell anyone, promise. Can't have them say you're playing favourites- but I am, ain't I-"
"You're so fucking ridiculous," Roy says, interrupting him, fond and actually fucking grinning now. "Can I kiss you?" Roy asks then, his hand moving to Jamie's cheek, cupping his face, and Jamie's breath catches in his throat, his heart fucking pounding in his chest.
"Uh, for good luck?"
"No, Jamie," Roy says patiently, his thumb brushing against Jamie's bottom lip-
"Oh. Yeah yes. Definitely. Please-"
And then lips are being pressed to his own and Roy's kissing him and Jamie can do nothing but melt into it, moaning softly when Roy slips his tongue inside his mouth. Roy's hand is on the back of Jamie's head now, fingers buried into his hair, and they're close enough that Jamie can feel the heat of his body against his own.
The kiss is deep but almost gentle, patient in a way, like they both want to take their time and explore each other's mouth, and that in combination with the roughness of Roy's beard against his skin has Jamie shivering and arching into Roy, desperate to get closer.
He doesn't know for how long they keep kissing, but after a while Jamie ends up on Roy's lap, bodies pressed together, and they continue like that until Jamie remembers Roy's knee. Roy's definitely not complaining or anything and his hands seem to have found their place on Jamie's arse, but Jamie decides there's no reason to burden Roy's knee even fucking more today. He can sit on Roy's lap another time, when they're somewhere more comfortable- hopefully.
They end up just lying down on the grass and sharing lazy kisses, their hands still on each other.
"So, you like me now, yeah?" Jamie asks between the kisses, because it's still fucking difficult to believe this is actually fucking happening.
"Nah, I actually do this with all the players I coach," Roy tells him and Jamie laughs, nipping at Roy's lower lip in retaliation.
"Fuck off, no you don't. I'm special," Jamie says, mostly joking, and maybe hoping Roy will agree.
"Yes, you are," Roy says, more serious now and like he truly means it, and Jamie just has to kiss him again.
++ Bonus
When Jamie wakes up the next morning he's in Roy's arms, feeling warm and comfortable and safe. He smiles, thinking about their day yesterday, happy to add another good memory to his Amsterdam trips.
Last night Roy's knee turned out to be more fucked than Roy was letting on, because he's Roy so of fucking course, and they were tired and hungry and thankfully Roy agreed to his suggestion to just rent the first Airbnb they could find, instead of riding back to the hotel. Nothing happened except for a few kisses and obviously some cuddling, but it was all really fucking nice. It felt like a promise for more in the near future.
Jamie snuggles even closer to Roy now, just because he fucking can. He really hopes Roy doesn't regret it when he wakes up. Jamie's already gotten his hopes up, which is probably stupid and the best way to be left disappointed and heartbroken, but he can't help it.
He’s thought about this a lot during these last few months and even before that, not that he would’ve ever admitted it to anyone - or even to himself - back then. He never really let himself hope that this was a possibility, but now it seems like it might be and he just really fucking wants this. Getting a taste of what he could have only for it to go away would be so fucking cruel right now, Jamie doesn’t know how he’ll handle it if Roy doesn’t actually want this; doesn’t want him.
He feels Roy shift against him only moments later and he tenses a little, afraid Roy will start pulling away the moment he's awake.
But Roy doesn't. "Good morning," he says quietly and then a kiss is being pressed to Jamie's forehead.
Fuck. This is definitely something Jamie's imagined happening-
"Oh, is it?" Roy says and Jamie can hear the smile in his voice, which immediately brings a smile to his face as well. He didn't even realise he said that out loud.
"Yeah, maybe."
Roy hums and presses a kiss to Jamie's temple, then to his cheek, before finally reaching his lips, lingering there for longer. Roy's hand is at his jaw, holding him and guiding him into the kiss and Jamie whimpers into it, trying to shift even closer-
Only for Roy to fucking pull away.
"Come on, we're gonna be late," he says and then has the audacity to actually get up.
Jamie groans and sits up on the bed, adjusting himself in his pants. "You arsehole," he says with a halfhearted glare, pouting to himself as he reaches to pull his trackies on.
"I'll make it up to you when we get home, if you behave now," Roy tells him and Jamie's quick to nod his agreement. Okay he can definitely work with that.
"You got it, Coach."
The corners of Roy's lips twitch up and he shuffles closer to him until he's standing right in front of Jamie. Then his hand is in Jamie's hair, pulling at it just hard enough to make Jamie tilt his head up. "Good boy," he says with a nod of approval and leans in to kiss his forehead.
Fuck.
Now Jamie's gonna have a half chub for the whole fucking way back.