Work Text:
Jamie often wondered if Sky knew how bloody good they had it.
Would Monday Night Football have been as smash hit if he hadn’t retired in 2013? If it wasn’t Gary sat on the other side of the table? if they didn’t have Ed to corral them? if Richard and Andy hadn’t left? Funny how a few little coincidences lined up and all of sudden you had fucking gold dust.
“What, you don’t think it was any good to you came on board?” Gary slurred over his pint, sloshing the remainder round the glass as he carelessly brought it up to his mouth “Typical selfish scouse bastard”
He practically hissed out ‘scouse’, still always that little part of him that bled that wrong red.
“No, I mean, if you’d let me finish my thoughts and stop your yapping, I mean if it hadn’t been for us” Jamie gestures loosely with his wrist, flicking between the two of them, enough motor function to at least avoiding knocking down his own glass “They’d have nothing – we make that programme Gary lad, we’re the fucking selling point, the fact you can watch a football match is just icing on the cake as far as I’m concerned”
Gary just snorts a laugh and shakes his head, mouth shaped into a smirk as he finishes off his pint. He points at Carra’s nearly finished pint and nods his head towards the bar.
“Yeah, go on” He agrees “One for the road then”
Gary pushes himself out his seat, patting his pockets to find his wallet and turns to the bar. But Jamie, never one to miss an opportunity, sloppily grabs a few of their accumulated glasses off the table, two of them hitting the wooden table and rolling around before he whistles at Gary
“Oi, come on, why don’t you be useful then?” He thrusts the glasses towards Gary “Take these up, first bit of honest work you’ve done in your life I bet”
Gary pulls a face, all scrunched up like he’s sucked a lemon and flicks Jamie the V sign with his fingers. It makes him bray out a laugh, putting the glasses down thumping on the table. Ah, he might be making a bit of scene but sod it, it’s just a bit of a laugh with a mate, isn’t it?
Jamie realises he stopped feeling his teeth them maybe three pints ago, so just to make sure they’ve not gone on walk about, he runs his tongue over them. Yeah, all good, teeth still where he remembers leaving them.
So’s Gary, he’s leaning heavily with his elbows on the bar, Jamie decides to push his luck, flicks down his eyes to Gary’s arse, yeah, still as perfect as it has been the last time he looked.
And every time before that.
Gary’s chatting with that nice girlie with the low-cut top as she pours a pint. She’s smiling and nodding, probably just stringing the old git along to see if he’ll leave a number or let her keep the change from the £20 he hands over. He’s tempted to belt out Go on girl, get in there, he’s bloody loaded!!!
Yeah, actually, fuck it why not, that’ll wind Gary right up.
But then Gary shifts his hips and now he’s staring right at Jamie just over his shoulder, that smirk slinking back on to his face.
And all that gumption Jamie had dies right in his throat, every object in the room feeling a little bit too sharp for his liking. He swallows round the knot in his throat, Jesus, where did that come from? Gary was cheeky, obviously, that’s why they ended up getting on like a house on fire. But that? That felt flirty, like Gary was starting to give some back, that was new. New and really fucking hot.
Gary turns around, pulls a £20 out his wallet and gives the girl a little wink as he picks the pints up, leaving her tittering. She’s mouthing something to her mate behind the bar, her eyes going wide as she wiggles the note.
Lucky cow.
“What’s that Carra?” Garys right there, sitting down with an inelegant plonk in his seat, miraculously only slopping a bit on the table as he pushes a pint towards Jamie.
“Nothing, you took your time” He scowls at Gary, no real heat but you know, enough to make himself feel a bit better
“Having a chat wasn’t I? Nice girl you know, says her dad would be well chuffed knowing she’d served me a pint – and disappointed in her for not taking the time to spit in yours!”
Gary chuckles, grip lose around his pint, he looks far too pleased with himself.
“Thought I’d escape your lot down here, Christ” Jamie mutters “ ‘ere, wipe that smirk of your face lad”
He shoves his pint towards Gary, a good amount slopping onto his hand and the table, tries to make a grab for Gary’s pint.
“Oi, gerrof, what are you -!”
“Not going to take any chances am I like? You can enjoy your manc spit, I’ll ‘ave yours instead”
Gary pulls his pint back, his eyebrows creased but there’s still a smile on his face as Jamie reaches out for his pint. He could do this forever, teasing Gary, cracking jokes and keeping that grin on his face.
So he reaches out with both hands, knocking the table up as he leans over to Gary’s side, watches as Gary eyes bulge and he tries to down his pint to avoid Jamie getting it. Jamie feels something drip onto his lap, pretty sure his pint has gone flying but doesn’t matter, it was probably contaminated anyway. Gary chokes out a squeak when Jamie gets his hand on the glass, liquid spilling round his mouth as Jamie shakes it away from him and even Jamie is giggling now. He wrestles the glass out of Gary’s hand, crying out a YES while Gary is giving one of his ‘NO’s’ where he drags the O sound round the houses, the liquid slashing over his hand.
“GOT YER” And Jamie necks the mouthful of beer left in the glass.
“1-0!!” He whoops and points at Gary “Get fucked you manc”
He makes sure he hisses out ‘manc’ as scornful as possible, tit for tat, YNWA, eye for an eye and all that.
Gary is wheezing out a laugh, his face all flushed as he slaps Jamie’s hand away, he looks fucking gorgeous when he’s all riled up like this. He can just picture Gary looking up at him like this, chest heaving and hair stuck around his face.
Well.
Now or never, right lad?
“Come on” Jamie grabs Gary’s wrist, watching as his face slides into confusion “Got to get you home”
Gary shakes his wrist, Jamie tightening his grip, Gary’s face falling for flicker before he schools it back into an incredulous expression as he’s tugged out his seat.
“You owe me a pint you twat, you spilt them fucking everywhere!” He squeals at Jamie, gesturing to the carnage unleashed on the table by them horsing around.
“Yeah, alright lad, I’ll get youse a beer at the hotel, now come o-“
Gary frowns and Jamie’s not so keen on that – what’s he fucking done now?
“Hotel?”
Huh. That wasn’t what he thought Gary would get his knickers in a twist about. He goes to pull Gary closer so he can point a finger in his face but he catches the girlie from the bar pointing at them to two thick set blokes and oh, oh Christ, of course she’d fucking put the bouncers from outside the pub onto them.
“So much for that shite then” Jamie mutters and pulls Gary as fast as he can manage out the pub, ignoring his protesting till they’re out on the street and he manages to shove Gary hastily into a cab.
“Yeah, here, just get going lad and I’ll tell you where we’re going in a min” He grabs onto the roof handle as the driver pulls away, sparing a quick glance behind him as the two bouncers launch themselves out the door of the pub.
Jamie whistles low and shuffles forward to tell the driver the hotel he’s staying at, it shouldn’t be more then a few mins but grumbles under his breath when he sees the meter start on fucking £7.20 already. London would bleed him dry if he’s not careful, he swears it.
He hears a groan come from his right.
“I know, tell me about it Gaz” Jamie pushes himself backwards into his seat to fling an arm around Gary, relishing in the heat oozing off him. He’s got his head buried in his palms and shoulders hunched up to his ears, Jamie feels him balk when he puts his arm round him but that’s probably ‘cause the swinging round the corner.
Gary clears his throat and sits back, rolling his shoulders as he leans against the headrest. Jamie drops his arm, instead decides to risk it and places it on Gary’s knee. He hears Gary take a deep breath.
“Where’re we going then James?” Gary asks, blinking his eyes a few times.
“… my hotel? You know, you met me there this morning, remember?”
“Yeah, I do but” Gary swallows “Why’re you taking me there? We can just go to another pub can’t we? Probably better then the hotel at least”
“Well, you know, thought we’d - ” Jamie gently slides his hand further up Gary’s leg, half way up his thigh. It still wonderfully thick and toned, his fingers following the slight dip of muscle as he moves it. His heart is hammering in his ears, the traffic and noise blurring into static as he watches Gary’s face in the scant light, trying to figure out what he’s thinking, what he’s feeling, fucking anything. He can feel his teeth now, gives them a quick lick with his tongue again, yeah okay all fine, lets bloody do this “We’d have a…a catch up like?”
Gary just breaths slowly, not saying anything, doesn’t even move, it’s torture for Jamie. He wants to replace his hand with his head so badly, to feel wrapped up in Gary.
“Oh. Yeah.” He finally says. He turns to look at Jamie with a half-smile “Go on then”
“You sure?” Jamie licks his lips.
“Yeah, I’d like that, be nice to hear how you’ve been”
He just about makes out the wink from Gary in the dark.
Jamie feels his jaw ache from the size of the grin he pulls, it’s perfect, exactly how he’d imagine it – casual, fun, easy, nothing to worry about in the morning, they’ll be laughing about this in the pub next week, he can feel it. Gary makes it so bloody easy.
He wonders why he hadn’t tried this on before.
(Theres a glint on their left hands in the corner of his eye but Gary brings his hand to pat Jamies one resting on his thigh, the shine all but forgotten about)
The taxi pulls up just outside Jamie’s hotel and Garys out waiting for him on the pavement before he can even blink.
(“Are you taking the piss!? £14.40 for not even a 10 minute drive?!” Jamie can’t help himself, gets delivered a withering stare in the rearview mirror by the cabbie. He wrestles out a crumped £20 from his wallet, tells the cabbie to give him back only £2, he’s generous but not that much).
Jamie stumbles out on Gary’s side of cab, slamming the door a bit too hard, making Gary jump and look up from where he’s stood on his phone.
“Worse then a teenager you are” Jamie swipes Gary’s phone and switches it off before passing it back “Your business can wait till after you’ve had your brains shagged out”
“Carra, fucking hell, say that louder why don’t you?!” Gary hisses at Jamie, grabbing his phone back and cradling it to his chest like a newborn. Jamie just letting out a loud cackle as he slings an arm around Gary’s waist, tugging them both into the hotel. Gary’s waist fits neatly into his hand, as if it was meant to be there from day dot.
“Relax, come on, just us girls out here” He gestures round to the empty lobby, the guy behind the desk giving them a nod as they come in, but even in Jamie’s head, he knows there nothing odd about a hand round your mates after a night out, especially now days “Don’t be such a moody arse, you’re fine Gaz”
“I’ll be more than moody if you don’t watch yourself James” Gary mutters at him as the walk into the lift, Jamie taking his hand off him to push the button for his floor, which gives Gary the opportunity to lean back against the wall with his arms crossed “You’ve got no respect for personal boundaries, you know that? What’s it to you if I take a minute to look at my messages while you’re faffing about in taxi? Liability you are”
“Oh I’ll give you liability” Jamie waits till the doors have shut, before he spins around to grab Gary’s hips to his, relishes the gasp from Gary as he leans close to his ear “You’re gunna need a fucking cane to get about when I’m done with you”
He’s fairly sure what he’s giving Gary is a searing kiss, savouring the slight rub of Gary’s plush lips against his own chapped ones. It’s all barely hidden desire finally being given an outlet, Jamie pushing himself hard against Gary’s crotch as he keeps chasing the taste of Gary (stale beer, slightly sour taste of a mouth after a long day).
It’s when he finds himself swallowing around Gary’s sniggering, that he pulls away to shoot the man a quizzical look, panting as he does so.
“You always this desperate?” Gary places his hands around Jamies face, the touch searing on his skin, shame and lust mingling on his cheeks. Gary probably doesn’t mean it like that – like he’s able to peel back every layer and scar on Jamies skin to find the beating core of a frightened man.
He can feel his bravado falling away as he realises how much the clouded vision, he’d been projecting of his desire for Gary comes out as pure desperation. What a fucking embarrassment he is, managing to pull his co-star he’s been eyeing up for the last few years and here he is plastering himself over him like a bloody virgin.
Jesus Christ lad, get a hold of yourself his mind barks at him it’s only Neville.
Just Neville!? He shoots back
The lift slows to a stop, Gary giving Jamie’s face a light squeeze as he let’s his hands drop to find themselves on Jamies waist, the touch drawing him out his muddled thoughts.
“Relax, Jamie, come on now” Gary’s looking at him fondly, the corner of his eyes wrinkling as he smiles and shit, Jamie may be a more into Gary that he cares to admit “You’ve got me all night, don’t want you running yourself ragged before we’ve even got to your room”
He manages to grab a bit of that courage up into his hands and shoot a shaky smile back at Gary as the doors behind them slide open.
*
They’d quickly marched to Jamies room (“Don’t think I’ve seen you move so fast in years”), Jamie only fumbling once with the key card, and then before he knew it, Gary was pushing him against the door to kiss him as intense as he had been doing in the lift.
Jamie swore he could feel his blood fizzing and popping under his skin. To be under the intense scrutiny of Gary was nothing new but coupled without any of the usual good natured animosity made him feel off kilter. Gary threw in all his drive to kiss him, pushing Jamie hard into the door till he swore he could feel the wood grain, and then (and then, Jesus wept) running a hand to squeeze Jamie in his trousers.
He wasn’t proud of the noise he made – sounded like a bloody cat with it’s tail trapped in the door. But God, who cared, when Gary made him feel so light headed from a quick touch. Everything felt blurred, blissfully muddled up together in the slide of fabric, the warmth of body heat and before Jamie could reel himself back in, he was sprawled on his back on the bed watching Gary shimmy himself out his trousers and kick his shoes across the floor.
“You gunna help me?” Jamie managed to slur out, eyes glued to the bulge he can make out in Gary’s black briefs. He can’t work out If he asked because he was struggling to peel off his own clothing or he wanted Gary to come closer so he could put he could mouth his cock through his underwear, like he’d been itching to do for months.
Gary had grinned at him, slinking over to him and trapping him on the bed, Jamie couldn’t even stop the whimper he’d let out when he felt Gary’s cock rub his thigh.
“Want me to do all the hard work do you then? Lazy bastard, even in bed” Gary had muttered but he still had a grin plastered to his face as he unbuttoned Jamies shirt, the metallic clink of his belt buckle echoing in his ears. Jamie grabbed onto Gary, watching his smile falter slightly and tugged him down for another kiss
“You’re so good Gaz” He mumbled as he pulled his button and fly down on his trousers, tried to push them off with a lap full of Gary Neville “Bloody brilliant you are”
Gary had snorted, pushed himself up as he tugged down Jamie’s trousers and underwear in one far too smooth (“or maybe practiced, you think he’s done this with oth-“ he had bitten down on his lip to silence his stupid fucking brain up) move.
“Since when did you get so soppy, eh?” Gary cooed down at him, as he wrapped a hand round his cock and Jamie’s swearing rung around the room. Jamie felt as his face burnt bright, it had felt too fucking much, too good, too perfect, too much like lov-
Gary had quickly pulled his hand off and leered down at Jamie as he tugged his hand to cup his arse.
“Wonder if you’ll still think I’m good when you feel how loose I am”
Jamie sobbed.
*
It’s easy enough to ignore the last tendrils of embarrassment in his stomach when he sees Gary like this. Pilant and relaxed, eye’s closed, legs tangled together with Jamie’s, hands kneading into the thick muscle behind Jamies neck as he stutters out moans into his ear. Jamie was still fucking reeling over the fact that he’d managed to, finally, wrangle the Gary Nevile into bed.
If he’s being honest, last time he felt this electrified, this unstoppable and jubilant, like everything was finally within his grasp, was in Istanbul. Not even his own butchered attempts to take charge managing to sully this prize.
Jamie pulls his cock out slowly, shallowing thrusting it back just to hear Gary’s breath hitch, to feel his fingers press bruises into his shoulders that he’ll be able to covet in the mirror later.
“D-deeper, please”
“Course, sweetheart” Jamie kisses Gary’s neck, can’t get enough of the way they both seem to slot together perfectly, slides himself into Gary as far as he can, watching the sheen of sweat on Gary’s brow as he scrunches his eyes shut tight. Jamie feels like preening himself when he pulls out and thrusts hard back into Gary, watching the man under him choke out a moan as he throws his head to the side of the pillow.
“Ohhh” Jamie smirks into Gary’s neck as he feels the rumble of his throat, the drawn-out sound rattling their chests “Fuck yes, D-ah, just there, again”
Gary’s bossy in bed, a thought that makes his heart feel tight in his chest. Jamie can’t help it, the sound, the feeling, the sight of Gary and he’s already dreaming about next time. He’s kissing just under Gary’s ear when it starts tumbling out of him.
“You’re gorgeous Gary, can’t beli-believe” He keeps losing his rhythm, thrusting haphazardly into Gary, trying to keep it as deep as he can for him, it’s all Gary’s asked of him “Can’t believe you’d want to do this, dreamed about it for fucking years, God, I-“
Gary knocks his chin into Jamie’s mouth, his eyes still closed, knocking Jamies thought out of his head.
“Kiss me, please?” It’s such an earnest question from Gary, how could he not follow through with it?
Jamie leans down, capturing Gary’s mouth and trying, trying so hard to be better than he was in the lift, capturing his mouth gently, tugging on his lip and it leaves Gary gulping for breath. Jamie thinks he could watch Gary’s face like this forever, his hair sticking to his forehead, lips bitten by them both a wonderful shiny pink, a high flush on his cheeks, Jamie thinks–
Gary suddenly starts pawing for his hand, pulling it away from where it’s next to his head and he stops thrusting into Gary as he nearly falls on top of him. Gary doesn’t even flinch, his eyes still shut.
“Touch me, m’close, keep going”
Jamie nods (he can’t see him, idiot) and spits on his hand before wrapping it round Gary’s flushed cock, laying taut against his stomach.
(Jamie had wanted so badly to lick a stripe up the side of it, to treat Gary by sucking his cock. He’d never actually made it this far with a lad, mostly sticking to hand jobs and getting them to suck him off but he wanted to try, wanted to feel the weight of Gary’s cock in his mouth, just to remind him that this was real.
But Gary had given him an ever so slightly patronising smile and pulled him up
“You made a promise Carra, want you to fuck me”)
The precome leaking from the tip and his spit helps him get a decent movement on Gary’s cock, trying to rub the head how he know he like it, lets his thumb drag along the underside as he slides it up, keeping a nice pressure in his strokes. Gary moans, and Jamie tries to get his thrusts in time to his stroking, wants it to feel good for them both.
Jamie can feel himself getting frantic, he’s close, he doesn’t want this to end, he wants to come inside Gary, he wants to see Gary.
“Gaz, love, pl-please, want to see you, please look at me”
Gary screws his eyes up even more, shakes his head and Jamie’s ready to beg if he must but Gary clenches around his cock and that’s all he needed.
“Fuck, fucking hell Gary, love you” He babbles out, thrusts once, twice, and then he’s coming inside Gary.
Pleasure smothers out any other emotion, regret buried underneath the euphoria of finishing inside Gary.
Fuck it, cards out on the table, let him know properly not just in the heat of the moment. Later, when they’re lazing in bed and he can kiss Gary softly without feeling daft about it, he can tell him then.
Gary whines loudly, whacks his heel down on Jamies thigh and makes him hiss. Bossy indeed, Jamie thinks as he huffs out a laugh and resumes thrusting into Gary, reaching for his cock again.
As the crackle of pleasure starts to mellow out and the familiar exhausting starts to make his limbs feel molten, Jamie’s hit with the thought quite suddenly out of nowhere:
Gary’s been rather quiet.
Sure, moaning and groan and panting and all the other wonderful noises Jamie can’t wait to spend pulling out of Gary in the future, but he’s not talking.
It’s almost unsettling.
“You alright Gary? Still there lad?” He asks, trying to speed up his thrusts, he knows Gary said he was close and he wants him to finish (and his wrist hurts but that’s by the by).
“Yeah, yeah, need you to – to –“ He manages to croak out
“To what? Harder? Faster?”
Gary just nods his head, uses his hands and feet to pull Jamie’s hips as close as he can get them.
(He’s still got his fucking eyes closed)
“Yeah, alright, you got it sweetheart” Jamie grunts, his cock is softening but he keeps going as best as he can for Gary, tries to finesse some sort of pattern into pulling Gary off “You know how to get your mileage outta me, don’t you?”
And Jamie thinks he’s managed to finally brush against Gary’s prostate because he feels Gary jerk his hips upwards and watches as Gary gasps and then opens his eyes.
“Oh, oh my God, David”
And Gary’s coming over his hands, come splashing hot stripes over his stomach and Jamies hand.
Jamie feels like someone has ripped the stiches out a wound. Raw, running hot and cold at the same time as he bristles, tries to swallow down his dry throat. His ears are ringing, panic and humiliation sinking low in his stomach.
Gary looks blissed out as he slumps back into the pillows, he slings an arm over his eyes and pants open mouthed, a small smile on his face.
He pulls out of Gary, swings his legs over the end of the bed and tries to stand up. But Jamies legs are aching, equal parts exhaustion and agony, so he just slowly slides down till his head is resting on the edge of the bed.
Bitterly, Jamie knows, always has, that this was too good to be true. He thought he fit perfectly with Gary, all matching parts. Maybe he just got lucky he could slip into the shape left behind.
What was it? Be careful what you wished for? Well, yeah, he got to fuck the man he’d lo-liked, liked more than he cared to admit. And that was it – probably wouldn’t again. Because it wouldn’t be easy, or perfect or simple like he thought it could be, like how their uneasy friendship had blossomed into Gary becoming his best bloody mate.
He hears something, muffled like it’s in the next room, realises he can feel pins and needles tingling out his legs now.
“Jamie?”
He’s not going to turn his head, because he’s sure if he looks at Gary, the dam will break and he’ll either sob (again) or start clawing at his stupid fucking manc face. He hears the sheets rustling and Gary’s coming closer.
“Jamie, I-I’m sorry” A nervous laugh and then he feels a hand lightly brush the hair at his temples, he can’t supress the way it makes him jump “Just. Just I guess. Well”
Gary brushes a finger down his neck, over the brusies Jamie now feels like a brand left behind.
“It was good, yeah? Maybe, you know, next time” Gary pauses, as if waiting for a reaction from Jamie. The words wash over him, only minutes ago the phrase ‘next time’ would’ve had him leaping up “Next time, let me make it up to you, yeah?”
Jamie wants to wrestle him to the ground and punch him, like they’re back to how they were when they were on the pitch. He wants to bite him until he’s screaming and left with the reminder of Jamie whenever he looks at himself in the mirror, see how he likes it. He wants to grab a flight and choke a man across the Atlantic up against a wall while he makes him beg.
So he turns to look at Gary, to snarl at him about whatta mean next time you twat and make good on some of this thoughts.
But the crinkled crows feet, the soft salt and pepper hair, the bright brown eyes staring back, Gary staring back.
“…yeah, alright”
Gary smiles softly at him, shuffles forward and leans down to kiss him.
Jamie closes his eyes.