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“Is Jamie here?”
Gary, who was seated at the makeup chair, looked up from his phone to see Roy Keane standing in the doorway of his room.
“Nah, don’t know where he’s gone.” Gary shrugged and continued to scroll on his phone, “What do you need him for?”
“Just wanted to talk about what happened, on that other show.”
Gary cringed and sighed. “Made a huge fool out of himself, didn’t he? Never can keep that huge mouth shut.” Classic Carra, talk first, think later, or not at all.
“Piss poor joke it was, laughed like an idiot by himself too.” Roy shook his head.
Roy would never admit it but Gary could tell he’s rather fond of Jamie these days, taking him in like some sort of wayward son, even if the said son was a middle aged man with graying hair. Sometimes, Gary thought that if Jamie really did get scouted by Sir Alex at that fateful training session in United, if a young rambunctious Jamie actually agreed to join United, no doubt he would be Roy’s favorite. To be honest, the thought of it made Gary bristle a little with jealousy, but it was true. He could see it clearly in his mind, Jamie arrogant and defiant, probably butting heads in the dressing room in the beginning but he would be brave, loyal and determined. He would throw his body on the line for the club, spilling tears, sweat and blood in his dark red soaked United jersey. The imagery of a younger Jamie playing for United proved a bit too stimulating for Gary, making him squirm a little in his chair. Shifting forwards into his seat, Gary reached for his cup of coffee on the table and took a sip. He grunted suddenly with a grimace on his face, nearly dropping the cup.
“Sorry, the coffee was hotter than I thought,” he replied when he saw Roy’s inquisitive look.
Gary continued, “Did you know he apologized to Kate only the day after? He didn’t even realize how tone deaf it was until the twitter mob got to him.”
Roy rolled his eyes. “Do you know where he ran off to?”
“Probably hiding in shame.”
Gary could see a tiny twitch of a smile creep on the Irishman’s face. “Good,the bastard deserved it.”
The moment the door closed behind Roy’s retreating back, Gary leaned back in his seat and spoke out loud to the empty room.
“Not sure what it takes to stop that twat from running his mouth, honestly.”
He grinned down at his lap. Between his thighs, a pair of dark green eyes glared back up at him from under the table. Gary ran his fingers down Jamie’s sharp cheekbones, the bridge of his nose and his plump pink lips, which at the moment, is stretched around his cock.
“Never knew you could stay that quiet for that long, James.” Jamie’s eyes narrowed at Gary’s smug tone. “Maybe you should stay like that for me until it’s time for makeup. Or even better, you can kneel there under the table while I get my makeup done. Keep my cock nice and warm in the meantime yeah?”
Jamie made an angry noise of discontent but Gary didn’t miss the way his eyes darkened and the tips of his ears turning red. Jamie does like to put up a front, pretending he doesn’t enjoy the teasing, that he’s unaffected and above it all. But Gary had known him for almost two decades now, the prick loved the pushback more than anything else, really gets his engine going apparently. He should punish his unruly Scouser like this more often, and going by Jamie’s track record, Gary could expect more fantastic blowjobs to come. His screeching voice may be head splitting at times but god, those lips are truly made for sucking cock.
“Although, I didn’t appreciate you nipping me with your teeth just now, you cheeky brat. Nearly made me drop my coffee. Don’t want Roy to find you on your knees with my cock in your mouth, right James?”
Gary gripped a handful of Jamie’s short hair and pulled him off his dick, watching with satisfaction as the other man swallowed all that saliva and precum that was probably pooling his mouth for a while. Jamie was a little breathless, but aside from his tie being slightly askew, his navy three piece suit remained neat and tidy.
“Fuck you,” he grumbled, his face flushing hot.
“Got it the wrong way around, love,” the older man smirked.
Gary guided his head back to his crotch again. “Enough talking, your mouth has gotten you into enough trouble now.”
Jamie glared at him again, before leaning down and rubbing his cheek and nose against his cock like a housecat. He ran his lips from the base of the manhood up to the pink shiny head, giving small kitten licks to the glands before tonguing the slit.
Fuck, that’s hot that.
Gary tapped his dick on Jamie’s mouth, pushing Jamie’s lips apart with the pink head of his cock, “C’mon, James.”
Huffing, Jamie took Gary back into his mouth in one fell swoop and started bobbing his head. He could feel Jamie working his tongue against the underneath of his cock on every upstroke and sucking hard on the tip just how Gary liked it. It felt too good, way too good. The sight of Jamie’s head working between his legs made his blood run hot in a way a full 90 minutes match would never have felt. Gary groaned and affectionately ran his hand through that salt and pepper hair, keeping a loose grip on it, lest that man complained about Gary contributing to his thinning hair after this.
A thought wormed its way into Gary’s mind through the haze of lust and arousal. Jamie was working harder than he usually would, the lazy sod always liked to lay back and let Gary do all the work. He’s taking his punishment with more enthusiasm than expected. Unless…
He’s trying to make Gary finish faster to end the punishment as quick as possible, the fucking bastard!
With a disgruntled growl, Gary held Jamie’s head with both of his hands, stopping him in his tracks. Jamie looked up at him with wide puppy eyes, almost comical looking since Gary’s cock was still in mouth, surprised that Gary caught onto his sneaky idea.
“You want it fast? Alright.”
Gary pulled Jamie deeper on his cock by his head while he snapped his hips upwards. He pushed right down Jamie’s throat, and he felt the other man choke slightly at the sudden movement. Drool dribbled out from the sides of Jamie’s mouth and down his chin, down onto Gary’s leather dress shoes. Jamie’s hands scrambled against Gary’s thighs, futilely trying to get Gary to let up. He lets one hand drift to the back of Jamie’s head, keeping it in place while he fucked his lover’s mouth, and the other hand moved down to wrap loosely around Jamie’s neck, the thumb and index finger pressing lightly underneath the sides of that square jaw. Jamie let out a high pitched whimper at the pressure of Gary’s hand on his throat while looking up at him from underneath his dark eyelashes, his emerald eyes dark with desire. With every thrust he could feel himself bulging out obscenely against his palm through the thin skin of Jamie’s neck.
Gary started pistoning his hips, fucking Jamie’s hot tight throat while watching tears gather at the corner of Jamie’s eyes. He threw his head back and let out a breathy moan, each thrust deeper than the last, his fingers tightening in Jamie’s hair.
“James.”
Jamie whimpered again as the filthy wet sound of his throat being used filled the room. Gary started babbling, because if he won’t shut up in day to day life, he definitely doesn’t shut up in the bedroom.
“Fuck fuck fuck, oh- Carra, fuckin’ hell.”
Gary looked down again and found Jamie had started grinding his clothed crotch against Gary’s leg like a dog in heat, all the while gagging on Gary’s cock.
“Jesus Christ, James, you fuckin’ whore,” Gary gasped at the sight, “You fucking gorgeous bastard.”
The high pitched sigh was all the warning Jamie got before Gary curled over him and clamped his massive thighs down hard around his head. His nose was pressed right up against the dark curls at the base of Gary’s groin as the older man climaxed, pumping thick ropes of cum down his throat.
Jamie tried his best to continue working him through his orgasm until Gary pushed him off his softening cock. His pouty lips were swollen and red, his cheeks wet with tears and his chin covered with drool and cum. He looked so beautiful like this, Gary’s chest throbbed with something fond as he stroked Jamie’s sweaty hair back. He leaned down to kiss him, tasting the bitter tang of his own release on Jamie’s tongue.
Settling back on his knees, Jamie rested his head on Gary’s thigh and continued to grind against Gary’s leg, his voice wrecked and raspy as he panted faster and faster. With a cry, he jerked once, twice before slumping forward into Gary’s lap, his arms wrapped affectionately around Gary’s middle.
“I’m a stupid fool.” Jamie mumbled, his voice hoarse and ruined.
“Yes you are.” Gary smiled down at him, still stroking his sweaty hair.
“I’m a right twat.” Jamie sighed again and pressed his face into Gary’s soft stomach.
Gary knew how hard it was for Jamie to admit weakness, his mistakes out loud. He had kept it all bottled up for years. Just because he doesn’t say it out loud to the world, his vulnerabilities, his errors, his insecurities, doesn’t mean it doesn’t haunt his waking thoughts.
“Carra’s always dealt with defeat poorly,” Gary remembers Crouchie telling him. They were at an after work party back in 2019, both watching Carra slumped over on the bar counter sloshed as hell and miserable because Liverpool lost to Chelsea or Arsenal or City, honestly Gary can’t remember.
Crouchie shook his head, looking vaguely like a disapproving giraffe. “That was one of the first things I was told when I joined the team. Don’t bother talking to Carra after a defeat, they said to me, it would be like talking to a ghost. He was simply not there. Won’t eat, won’t talk, won’t sleep. Eyes glazed over like he’s in trance honestly.”
Gary thought of the times when he and his team had beaten Liverpool, fleeting memories of Jamie, jaw tight, face pale, disappearing into the tunnel away from the jeers of the United fans.
“He would just stare at the food at team dinners, Stevie had to keep kicking him under the table until his leg was black and blue before he even remembers to eat.” Crouchie looked sad.
It’s rumination. Stevie told him when the Overlap cameras were off. The therapist said so but Jamie denied it. For days he would obsess over his own mistakes, Stevie had said, replaying it over and over in his mind’s eye, proper doing his head in before finally exhaustion takes over and Jamie would get blackout drunk on cheap beer at the pub. An escape from his thoughts and for him to finally be able to sleep.
Gary tried to count the number of times Liverpool had lost back then, how many times Jamie woke up with a throbbing head and an empty heart. It made his stomach lurch when he lost count up to the year 2001.
Underneath this desk, hidden away from the world behind the laminated wood and Gary’s body, it’s the only time Jamie felt safe enough to open up his soft underbelly and expose his vulnerable insides, his hurting ego, fragile, trembling, helpless, knowing full well how foolish he was, seeking forgiveness but believing he’s deserving of none.
It’s a fleeting moment before Jamie walled himself up again, brick by brick, shutting the outside world out. Not too long before his cocky confident mask slipped back in place.
They arrived to work first thing in the morning, and stayed together throughout. Gary knew for a fact that Jamie’s had nothing but cups of tea and breath mints, didn't even glance at the biscuits on the side of the saucer.
Stevie’s not around anymore to bark out captain’s orders for Jamie to take care of himself.
“Fuck off!” Jamie grunted as Gary flicked his ear painfully, disrupting his silent brooding with his head still laid in Gary’s lap.
“I’m starving, bring me to dinner.”
“Are you being serious right now? Demanding for food right after I let you fuck me mouth? Still keen on being fat?” Jamie smirked at him, standing up on creaky knees. He didn’t mean it really, Gary would know for all the times Jamie panted praises into his skin between the sheets, muttering words like ‘Gaz you bloody fit bastard’, ‘look at your muscles’ and ‘fucking love your arms’. God forbid Jamie be forced to express his true feelings not disguised as an insult or while drunk on lust.
“Ungrateful you lot are, bloody Mancs. Let me change out of me soiled underpants first, though.”
Gary made a face, groaning. “That’s fucking disgusting, god.”
Jamie cackled madly, ecstatic in being filthy and the universe slid right back into order again, and Gary started thinking hard of which fine dining restaurant he would cajole Jamie into eating in.