Chapter Text
Any member of AFC Richmond would tell you this : if you want a quiet place for a heart-to-heart, post-break-up cry, or discreet exchange of information, the boot room is the place to go. Not only is it strangely well soundproofed, there’s just something about the space, some sort of energy to it.
Any member of AFC Richmond also has the same rule : always do a Will-check. Little bugger has a 50/50 chance of being hidden behind the washing machine, and no hesitation when it comes to sharing gossip about you after.
Jamie knows the rule, and so does Roy. Hell, Will has already been witness to a certain number of their boot-room interactions.
But then, they play home against Villa, and Jamie not only is on fire, managing to do a great pass to Dani that lands them a goal in the first ten minutes, he also pulls a perfect feint and one of his most beautiful hat tricks yet, all in the same match. When the final whistle assures their victory 4-1, Roy doesn’t bother restraining the wild grin that wants to escape from his face. He even lets Nate hug him, and Beard claps him on the back.
The moment his eyes meet Jamie’s, it’s like an electrical current, like plunging your fingers straight in the socket. Roy doesn’t know for sure what his expression looks like from the outside; a lifetime of self-control assures him he probably looks fine, but his eyes apparently convey enough. Jamie gets the message, as a smug little smile turns up the corner of his mouth (two seconds later, Dani jumps on him and makes them both fall down).
Jamie is getting a hell of a reward tonight. And Roy is nothing if not a believer in positive reinforcement (at least when it comes to blonde, fit pricks).
Of course, they have to wait until the congratulations are over, Roy praising their tactics and team play, and everyone has filtered out to go celebrate the victory at Ola’s. From his office, Roy hears Jamie saying to the lads that he and Coach still need to do their own debrief, and he’ll try and catch them later.
Roy was worried, once he took over as manager, that the other players might feel left out, what with Jamie’s personal training. But apparently, getting the full brunt of Roy fucking Trent’s attention is not especially enviable. According to Jamie, he asked them directly, and Jan Maas straight up said « You are both insane, and no one wants to get in the middle of that ». So, that settles it.
Also means no one questions Jamie staying late. While Roy is feeling downright giddy, no way in hell is he doing anything in the coaches’ office, where sound carries, doors don’t properly lock and windows are everywhere.
Instead, he drags Jamie by the shirt to the boot room, the kid clearly happy to let him based on the dopey grin on his stupid (handsome), pouty face.
The second the door closes, Roy has Jamie pushed against the wall next to it, hands and mouth every-fucking-where. The onslaught stops after thirty seconds, and Jamie whines in frustration, but Roy knows the little prick loves to hear him talk.
“You were fantastic out there tonight, Jamie. Fucking possessed . Don’t think I’ve ever seen you play so well, and that fucking hat trick…”
There is a flush to Jamie’s cheeks, and Roy put it there. Of course Jamie has a praise kink so huge, telling him he’s a good boy is a surefire way of making him come. Roy may be obsessed.
“Had to do so good, didn’t I ? You're the one who promised you’d blow me brains out if I scored the win, after all.”
“Yeah, I remember. You want to collect ? Right here, right now ?”
Roy doesn’t get an immediate answer but, in Jamie’s defense, there is a very biteable collarbone right in front of Roy’s eyes, just begging to have some marks left into it; and anyone would have some difficulty speaking when currently being hickeyed to death.
“Fuck, one day we have to do it in your office Roy, please, m’begging ya. Would be so hot, you sitting there and me climbing in your lap.”
“That's what you want, Jamie ? To be so desperate for me, you need to fuck where everyone could catch us, everyone could see you being a needy little slut ?”
“Fuck yeah, Roy, I need it, please, please, please …”
“I bet you’d fucking love it, having an audience. You fucking preen all the time, but you’re the prettiest with a cock in your mouth.”
Jamie keens, then starts babbling, a telling sign of his desperation.
“Just…just yours, Coach, just your cock, please, give it to me…”
Roy takes pity, lets his hand drift down to gently cup the bulge clearly visible in the white kit. Jamie ruts against him, they’re pressed practically toe to toe, and the air feels so fucking hot around them.
Roy is losing his mind and, in a last ditch attempt to regain some control, slides his hand directly inside Jamie’s shorts, below his cock to grab at his balls and squeeze.
The noise that escapes Jamie is so high-pitched, it’s like a squeaky toy. But Roy knows the boy’s limits, and they’re far from it. Proof a second later, as Jamie starts to pant and push towards his coach’s punishing grip. Little masochist.
“ Coach . Coach, Roy, please, I’ve been good, right ? Been a good boy.”
A shudder passes through them both, satisfaction and the hot lick of shame. They’ve only started playing with the dynamic, they haven’t even really talked about it yet, and they should. Still, Jamie has wanted Roy’s attention since forever, good or bad, and he thrives in doing what he’s told.
Roy takes him in, sweat matting his hair, tongue lolling out like a dog waiting for a treat, eyes glazed over. And suddenly he wants to see it, Jamie falling apart in his hands, a sweet, sweet submission.
“Yeah, Jamie, so good. Come here, you’ll get your reward, sweetheart.”
The nickname elicits another whine, and Roy knows they’ll come back to that later. For now, he slides both his hands underneath the shorts to grab that perfect, perfect ass, and basically hauls Jamie on his thigh, the rest of him still against the wall. It’s not the most practical of positions, even on his good knee, but fuck it, this isn’t gonna take long.
“Rut on my leg, Jamie, come on. Make yourself feel good with your coach’s body, mmmh ?”
Roy can hear himself : his voice is low and raspy, as though he ran suicides around the pitch, or just deep-throated cock (and isn’t that an image). His fingers slide in between Jamie’s cheeks, rubbing at his hole, and that’s it, that’s all she wrote. With a last noisy cry, Roy feels warmth spreading down his legs, Jamie’s body trembling against him.
Roy keeps him in his arms, ignoring his own hard-on, and waiting for Jamie to come down from it. He can get himself in quite a state, mentally, which is hot but requires a bit of after-care.
Whether they would have tidied up and gone straight back home, or Jamie would have gotten down on his knees, neither of them has a clue. Because in that instant, as they’re catching their breaths, the silence is broken by a muffled sneeze. Which is immediately followed by a muffled but still audible « shit, shit, shit ».
No one speaks for a good ten seconds.
Then, very calmly given the circumstances, Roy calls out : “Will. Out. Now .”
Emerging from behind the other row, their kitman actually looks pretty sheepish. And also very red in the face (Roy glances down Will’s trousers, and yep, there it is).
Jamie tensed up briefly, but now seems relaxed enough, unbothered with having been caught. Probably still high from his orgasm, lucky him. Then again, he is something of an exhibitionist.
Will, on the other hand, is clearly worried about his life.
“Please don’t kill me, Coach… Roy , I mean, I would have said something but you barged in and immediately started kissing, and honestly, I thought I was having one of those dreams, and then it got worse, and I figured interrupting would just be awkward, but I really didn’t mean to invade your privacy like that, though it is a public place, but sorry again, I…”
“Will. Breathe. I’m not carrying you if you pass out.”
Roy doesn’t know how to react. On the one hand, he’s a coach : having sex or a relationship with a player is morally dubious, and Will would be within his rights to tell. On the other hand, Will has probably actually seen worse in here, and he’ll be damned if the little freak isn’t getting off on them.
Roy looks back at Jamie, who is supremely unhelpful. Mostly, he looks amused.
“C’mon, Roy, Will’s a good lad, right, Will ? Not gonna say anything to the others ? We’re trying to keep it a secret for now.”
“Yeah, no, of course, I swear ! Not a word of this, to anyone.”
“See ? Plus, looks like you enjoyed the show, hmm ?”
At that, Jamie’s gaze dives, Roy following once more. Yep, even embarrassment is not enough to take care of that problem. Roy feels oddly proud that the sight of him and Jamie together can have that effect on people. Even if yes, that’s Will, definitely the kinkiest person around here.
The man in question looks downright pleading, though.
“Can I leave now, please ? Roy ?”
With a last vaguely threatening grunt, and trying to ignore his own flush, Roy signals the door, and Will bolts.
“He’s definitely having a wank in the toilet.”
“Jamie, will you please not mention Will’s cock while I’m still hard ?”
That just earns him more snickering.
“Come on, don’t you think he’s cute ? I mean, he’s also really nasty, but I don’t mind him using us as wanking material.”
“Cute ? I’d sure fucking hope you’d tell me if you want to fuck Will.”
It’s not said with any real jealousy, Roy is just curious.
“I mean, I’ve been in threesomes, and I know you have been too, Mr I-had-an-orgy-every-weekend-in-my-twenties…”
“Fuck off. Tabloids always made it sound worse than it really was. Most of the time.”
“So you haven’t had a threesome ?”
Roy doesn’t answer, which is an answer in itself. Sure there had been. Girls, boys on occasion. Lots of models and actresses and all around fit people.
“My point is, you’re more than enough for me, Roy. You were the main star of my wet dreams from 15 to 22, there's so much stuff I want to try. No need to get to threesomes and orgies for now, yeah ?”
Faced with that lopsided smile, Roy can’t help but agree. Jamie Tartt is more than enough, and Roy’s always been a clingy bastard anyway, when it matters. So far, it's only mattered twice, but he’s seeing patterns.
Still, he isn’t thinking only with his dick. Or at least, not entirely.
“You don’t think that was…a bit much, though ? Him seeing us. I wouldn’t want him going around to the press saying I prey on my players, or anything like that.”
Jamie must see Roy’s actual unease, because he suddenly gets this serious look in his eyes, although he keeps smiling.
“Roy. Relax, mate. I was clearly into it, and Will’s not a snitch. Well, no, he is, but not to the tabloids. Plus, horny as we might make him, m’pretty sure he’s still terrified you’re going to rip off his balls and feed them to him. And not in a sexy way.”
Roy hopes his frown is self-explanatory. “There’s a sexy way to rip off someone’s balls ?”
“What were you trying to do with mine five minutes ago, Coach ?”
“Alright, alright, I get your point. Now come on, let’s go back home, finish what we started.”
Roy’s crotch, by the way, still hurts. Fucking blue balls, and fucking sneaky, interrupting kitmen.
He briefly adjusts himself. At that, Jamie licks his lips in a way that’s frankly obscene, eyes fixed on the bulge, before seeming to remember something. His expression turns dismayed.
“But I promised the lads I would try and go meet them, haven’t been to any after-game outings since the beginning of the season…I mean, they all know you’ve got me balls on a tight leash - ‘is just an image , Roy, stop with the eyebrows, though we should try that one of these days - still, wanted to see them…”
Roy’s sigh is put upon, but he doesn’t really mean it. Of course, he’s possessive of Jamie : he’s trying but therapy hasn’t solved all his attachment and obsessiveness issues. Still, 90% of the time, Jamie is the one clinging to Roy. If he asks for something from time to time, well, it’s only healthy, right ?
“Right, then, to the showers with you, you can’t go to Ola’s with your jizzed shorts, right ?”
“I mean…that would definitely mark your territory, old man.”
Deep breath in, deep breath out. Don’t be tempted to fuck him till he can’t feel his knees, much less talk deeply sexy shit.
Roy still can’t help the growl that escapes him, but Jamie only laughs. He was never properly scared of Roy, was he ?
“C’mon, both of us to the showers. You’re definitely coming to the bar with me, Roy, it’s your team too.”
And isn’t that scary, the warmth filling Roy’s chest at the idea that Jamie wants to spend as much time with him as he does ?
“And hey, there’s still your little problem to take care of. Think my mouth, to be sure we don’t leave any trace of come in the drain.”
Now, that provokes an entirely different kind of warmth.
“Thought I was supposed to reward you.”
“Roy”, Jamie scoffs, “when don’t I ever love going down on you ?”
True enough. It sometimes feels as if Jamie can’t get enough of Roy’s cock, everywhere he can get it. It’s not a bad feeling.
“Okay, but be quick. If Will catches us at it again, he’ll definitely think we’re asking him to join. ”
Jamie’s laughter resonates in the boot room.