A Saga, Of Sorts - Part Two
Title: A Saga of Sorts - Part Two
Pairing: OT3
Notes: First part in below post.
A Saga, Of Sorts - Part Two
James woke up feeling happy, and relaxed, but with that odd feeling that he’d forgotten to do something. It stayed with him while he showered, and it wasn’t until he was sitting at the table, watching Richard criticise Jeremy’s cooking skills, that he realised what it was.
“Oh, cock,” he said, pushing himself to his feet and fleeing the room.
He returned to find his two colleagues waiting in some concern, and he held up his mobile in explanation. “I forgot to call Mark. He left ten messages.”
“Isn’t that slight overkill?” Richard asked. “I mean, he knew where you were.”
“He wanted me to call, and let him know I was all right.” James was already dialling Mark’s number, running a hand frustratedly through his hair. He could see Richard scowling at him, and Jeremy looking wary behind him - never a good sign. Richard had a habit of flying off the handle, especially in the mornings, and when even Jeremy was looking nervous, it didn’t bode well.
“What?” Mark’s angry voice crunched out through his phone.
“Shit, Mark, I’m so sorry.”
“Well, you should be. What were you playing at? I was worried, James. What happened? Did filming overrun?”
“No,” James admitted quietly, slinking out of the kitchen and lowering his voice in the hallway. “I just … we got back and started talking, and I forgot to switch my phone back on. It was stupid of me.”
“Yes, it bloody was. You seem to drop everything whenever you go off with those two hooligans.”
“Mark, they’re my best mates.”
“This argument is getting incredibly repetitive, James. I don’t like feeling like I’m not the most important thing in your life - you say that I am, but it’s increasingly difficult to believe.” James scrubbed at his forehead at Marks‘ words.
“You are, Mark. Honestly. It’s hard to explain. I just wish you knew Jeremy and Richard better.” There was silence on the other end of the phone. “Listen, I’ll catch the earlier ferry back over, ok? I’ll be back by three.”
“Ok,” Mark said eventually. “Then we need to talk.”
James winced at those last words. They never boded well in a relationship, and the sound of the phone being hung up swiftly didn’t sound very promising either.
He headed back into the kitchen and found himself faced with a furious Richard.
“I thought we were going to have a last drive around before we got on the ferry,” he spat.
“Rich, Mark’s not happy. I’ve got to get home. You can appreciate that, can’t you?”
“I can’t quite bring myself to, when he seems to dictate your every move,” Richard said angrily. Jeremy tried to rest a placating hand on the smaller man’s shoulder, and it was shrugged off violently.
“That’s not fair-“
“What’s not fair, James, is that we only get to see you properly now when we’re at work. And he even limits that time too, so excuse me if I think you’re being a bit of a fucking twat!” Richard’s voice had risen in a terrible crescendo, and he was red in the face, throwing a proper tantrum. He threw his hands up in the air, as if unsure what to do with them, and then stormed out, leaving a stony silence in the kitchen, punctuated only by the slamming of the front door.
“He probably didn’t mean it,” Jeremy said weakly.
James looked at him. He could feel that horrible sensation of being pulled apart once more, and it was unpleasant to say the least. “Do you feel the same way too?” he asked Jeremy, in a croaky voice.
“Well, it has become less and less often that we see you, mate.”
“Do you hate Mark as much as he seems to?” He nodded his head towards the door Richard had exited by.
Jeremy forced himself, with some difficulty, not to say ‘more’. Instead, he said, not very convincingly, “Richard doesn’t hate Mark. We just don’t know him very well, that’s all.”
“He’s been coming to filming for ages - how can you not know him?”
“Because he doesn’t speak! Not to us, anyway. He just speaks to you, and exchanges vague pleasantries with us.”
James was stumped. He had no response. Jeremy was right, when he looked back, and that seemed to be the root of the problem. He was being pulled between his boyfriend and his two best friends because they had never really gelled, and there had to be a way to fix that.
“James, I’m so sorry,” Richard said matter-of-factly. James hadn’t heard the click of the door as he’d re-entered the house, looking a good deal calmer. “I didn’t mean what I said. Honestly. You know what I’m like. Worse temper than Beelzebub.”
He looked genuinely apologetic, and James had never been able to resist Richard’s guilty expression. He knew Richard well enough to have experienced a good deal of his fits of anger, and knew that they passed as quickly as they started, and he never failed to say sorry afterwards. “It’s all right. Jeremy explained the problem.”
“He did?” Richard asked, raising his eyebrows and flashing a puzzled look at Jeremy.
“Well, I told him that we didn’t dislike Mark, we just didn’t know him very well. And being the jealous gits that we are, we got a bit miffed,” Jeremy said quickly, lest Richard thought he’d suddenly blurted out their secret desire for James.
“Oh,” Richard said, looking vaguely disappointed.
“Listen, I really have to go. I promised. I’m sorry to leave like this, but I’ll tell you what; come over for dinner next Tuesday. Seven o’clock. You can start to get to know him better, all right?”
“All right,” Richard agreed for the two of them, feeling that it was the least he could do after losing his temper so shockingly.
James looked so relieved, though, that he couldn’t help but think he’d made the right decision in saying yes, and he kept the smile on his face purposefully right up until James turned out of the drive, bags hurriedly packed.
“What a fuck up,” Jeremy commented when the Honda had vanished from sight, and Richard let out a groan and threw himself melodramatically against Jeremy’s chest. Jeremy chuckled at his behaviour despite himself. “I’d forgotten I’d decided to start having sex with a tornado.”
“Christ. But that Mark’s a dick. Wanting James to call him? I said goodbye to Mindy yesterday and she told me to let her know if one of us died. That was it. I didn’t mean to blow up like that.”
“You rarely do. You’re just the most bad-tempered man in the world,” Jeremy said, his voice half-mocking and half-soothing as he ran a gentle hand through Richard’s hair.
“And James is the nicest. Did you see how upset he was?”
“Yeah,” Jeremy said thoughtfully. “I did. I want to know whether it’s because he’s naturally insecure, or whether we’re not being paranoid, jealous bastards and Mark has got his claws into him.”
“I suppose we’ll find out on Tuesday,” Richard said into Jeremy’s warm jumper.
“I suppose so.”
***
They turned up at James’ on Tuesday night in separate cars, dressed smartly and carrying identical bottles of a particular Sicilian wine that James was partial to.
“Jeremy has no originality whatsoever,” Richard informed their host as they entered. “He copied my idea.”
“Thank you - both of you. Do you have any idea how hard it is to get hold of this stuff?” James called to Mark as he let them in.
“I’m not much of a wine buff, I’m afraid,” Mark said, smiling and reaching over to shake hands with the two men as they entered. “Good to see the two of you. Enjoying the week off after your trip away?” Due to some rubbish sports programme, Top Gear had been given a week off, which Jeremy had been characteristically scathing about. They weren’t due back in the studio until the following Wednesday.
“I’m not missing the early mornings,” Jeremy said, feeling rather trite as he did so. He wasn’t very good at making small talk.
“You always arrange your schedule so you don’t have to get up until ten!” Richard retorted. Still feeling guilty after his outburst, the younger man had been determined to make an effort at this dinner ever since, and Jeremy was very glad of his lover’s ability to chatter about absolutely anything as the evening progressed.
It allowed him to sit back and watch Mark and James as they interacted, and to try and spot any weaknesses. Annoyingly, he could find very few. Mark was still a rather uninteresting person, and he didn’t make jokes ever, as far as he could tell, but he was managing to present himself as a decent enough bloke.
Over dinner, which, Jeremy had been rather shocked to discover, was a vegetarian meal prepared by Mark, he had found out more about him than he had done in the two and a half months James and he had been going out together. He did, he admitted rather reluctantly, have qualities that he assumed James would like. Despite no interest whatsoever in cars, Mark was a musician, playing the flute and oboe, and an avid historian with a lot of useless facts stored up in his brain. Whenever he mentioned one, James seemed very interested, as he usually was by things like that, whereas Richard and Jeremy listened politely and then immediately forgot what the fact had been.
They didn’t stay too long - long enough to eat dinner, and stay for a chat afterwards, and then they left together, thanking them for a great night and heading out into the street.
“Well?” Richard said miserably once they were out of the house and out of sight of the windows.
“I think we should go back to mine and have a talk,” Jeremy said.
“Francie and the kids are there, Jez. I know our wives have been incredibly understanding about us, but to bring me home and then to talk about how much we fancy James would be rubbing her nose in it just a bit, don’t you think?”
“Just get your car, and follow me, all right?” Jeremy said, leaving Richard no room to argue by adopting his bossy voice.
Richard sighed and did as he was told. It was late, but central London was still busy, and he followed Jeremy’s Mercedes through the streets without really paying attention to where they were going, just to the pedestrians he needed to dodge.
When they finally reached their destination, he followed Jeremy into an underground car park in a building right next to the Thames, not too far up from Tower Bridge. “Where are we?” he asked Jeremy.
“My new flat,” Jeremy told him as he led him over to the lift and pressed the button for the top floor.
“What?”
“It’s rented, of course. I figured that because I was spending so much time in London, what with filming, it was about time I got a flat here. Plus, Francie’s thinking of permanently relocating to the Isle of Man, and living there. There’s no point having two homes, really.”
“Fair enough,” Richard agreed, and then gasped when he saw the flat. It was small, although that was only in comparison to his own house. By London standards, it was a fair size. It had a bedroom, lounge, dining room, bathroom, kitchen, and balcony, and wasn’t too modern, which both he and Jeremy hated. “It’s really, really nice, Jez.”
“Good. Because it also serves another purpose - instead of meeting one another down back roads and in secret broom cupboards, we’ve got somewhere we can go.” Jeremy bit his lip nervously as he waited for Richard’s reaction. “I mean, say if you think I’m moving a bit too fast.”
“It’s perfect, Jez. One of your better ideas. And as for moving too fast, neither of us have ever been patient men, have we? I’ve got a meeting tomorrow so it’s perfect. Let me phone Mindy and let her know I’m staying here tonight, and then I’m all yours.”
“I like the sound of that.”
Forty minutes later, and they were wrapped up in the giant bed, a little bit sweaty, quite out of breath, but completely sated. “I have to say, the ride is very comfortable,” Jeremy said, making Richard giggle helplessly. “It’s not a bad-looking beast, and it has some power. I was particularly impressed with the gear stick-“
“You’re an idiot,” Richard told him through his amusement. Jeremy grinned and pulled Richard even closer to him, marvelling at how quickly it had become natural for him to hug the other man close.
He let them relax for a few more minutes before broaching the important subject. “So, tonight. Complete disaster?”
“Complete and utter,” Richard agreed. “He’s so, unbelievably nice. Boring, but nice. I thought I was going to scream.”
“He’s just James’ type, I suppose. Quiet, knowledgeable, and safe.”
“I hate that word.”
“Well, my verdict would have to be that while he is under Mark’s thumb slightly, it’s not because the man is an evil git.”
“I think James really loves him. I think he’s pretty insecure about his sexuality, and Mark’s like, a sort of rock for him.”
“So we shouldn’t break them up?”
“Probably not,” Richard said, letting out a frustrated sigh. “He’s still a prick though.”
“Absolutely. Did you see what he was drinking? Budweiser. Ugh.”
“I thought you were going to have a fit when the meal didn’t have any meat in,” Richard said, grinning as he remembered Jeremy’s hastily hidden expression of horror. Jeremy’s inherent dislike for anything healthy always made him laugh.
“I think I did. I’m going to have sausages for breakfast to make up for it.”
“We may not have James, mate,” Richard said, after another few moments of comfortable silence, “But I’m really glad I’ve got you.”
Jeremy smiled and hugged him closer. “Me too.”
***
“Bugger,” Richard said the next morning as he pulled on yesterday’s clothes. “I’ve left my iPod at James’.”
“Why did you have it with you? In case you got bored?” Jeremy asked from where he was lounging on the sofa.
“I just had it in my pocket. I’ll drop by his after the meeting - I’ll need it for the way home.”
“I’ve got some CDs you could borrow, if you like,” Jeremy offered.
Richard glared at him as he pulled on his distinctly rumpled shirt. “The Dodge doesn’t have a CD player, as well you know, and I wouldn’t listen to your awful music anyway. Fuck, I am going to look so rough at this meeting. Do you think they’ll be able to tell I had sex last night and didn’t have a spare set of clothes for the next day?” He posed in front of Jeremy, who raked his eyes over the lithe frame, barely taking in the dishevelled clothing.
“I hope so,” he said after a minute. “You won’t look pure or wholesome enough for them to suggest another daytime TV show.”
“You are so unhelpful,” Richard said. Despite that, however, he managed to be out of the flat in plenty of time for his meeting, and looking more or less presentable. Thanks to Jeremy’s suspiciously well-stocked bathroom, he also smelled all right as well, and got through the meeting with no comments.
He headed straight to James’ house after the meeting was over, stopping only to pick up a new t-shirt, so that the other man didn’t ask him why he obviously hadn’t been home the night before.
He knocked on the door, having luckily found a parking space it was just about possible to park his Dodge in easily, and waited for a few moments. He received no reply, and frowned. James’ Bentley was parked neatly on the drive, as was his bike. And he never, ever took public transport unless it was absolutely necessary.
Further investigation revealed that the door was actually unlocked, which caused his frown only to deepen more - James’ neighbourhood wasn’t particularly dangerous, but it wasn’t completely safe, either. He wandered through to the front room, calling out James’ name as he did.
What he found when he opened the door caused him to jump back in horror. There were no dead bodies or anything gruesome like that, but the spectacle that greeted him was, in his books, nearly as vile.
“Fucking hell,” he exclaimed as the two men leapt to their feet at his entrance, covering themselves up with a throw from the sofa (in Marks’ case) and a cushion (a rather less-effective solution utilised by his unidentifiable black-haired male companion).
“Richard, this-“ Mark began, but stopped short, obviously realising that there was no way he could come up with an effective cover story.
“You absolute bastard. I’m assuming James doesn’t know about this?”
“He’s gone out. In my car,” Mark said, a little pointlessly.
“Your car?” Richard asked, momentarily distracted.
“Yes. It’s easier to drive in traffic. And cheaper.”
“It’s still a Rover … how could you do this to him? I thought you loved him - it certainly seemed so, from last night’s performance.” Richard’s tone was hard and furious.
“I do,” Mark said, earning himself a glare from his rather young companion. “I mean … I feel a lot of affection for James. He’s been through a lot - his father didn’t accept his sexuality, you know, and he’s scarred by it. He doesn’t want people knowing about him. He told me how terrified he was telling you and James.”
“I’m sure your cheating on him will do a lot to boost his self confidence,” Richard spat angrily.
“Don’t tell him. Please, don’t tell him. I do love him. It’s just that I like to have other lovers too - he means nothing to me, honestly!” Mark’s tone became ever more pleading, and his ‘other lover’ scowled at his words. Richard cast his gaze onto him.
“You. Get dressed, and get the fuck out of this house.” His voice was low; almost deadly, and all the defiance left the young man’s face as he snatched his clothes up from where they lay in various locations on the floor and bolted out of the door. “Now,” Richard said, turning his attention back to the tall blond. “What are you going to do now?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re going to have to tell him. Given a choice between seeing James remain hopelessly in love with a git like you, or seeing him suffer a bit of a loss of confidence, I think I’d choose the latter. So if you don’t tell him, I bloody will, all right?”
Mark’s face twisted grotesquely and he threw the blanket covering his nakedness away angrily, and then took a few threatening steps towards Richard. “If you mention a word of this to anyone, you little wanker, I’ll ruin James. I’ll go to the press, and tell them everything. Which option will you choose now, then?”
Despite his disadvantage in height, Richard stood his ground. He was beginning to see red, and a bead of sweat was trickling down his temple. “Whichever one gets rid of you fastest,” he ground out. “Now get the fuck away from me.”
Mark, surprised by the lack of reaction, backed off slightly, and Richard took the opportunity to grab his iPod off the coffee table and shook it at Mark, before shakily making his way to the front door.
He remained livid until he was nearly halfway back to his home in the Cotswolds. He’d ploughed his way through the traffic, cutting countless people up and nearly causing a fair few crashes. He had, at least, put his sunglasses on, so that hopefully he wouldn’t be recognised, but other than that his mind had been preoccupied with processing what had just happened. His first instinct had been to go straight to Jeremy’s flat, but he’d remembered that the older man had headed back to Oxfordshire, and would be with his family.
He began to calm down gradually as he got closer to his home, and by the time he walked in the door, he wasn’t angry anymore, only shocked. His daughters leapt on him as soon as he walked in, wanting to show him this and that and demanding his attention, which he gave gladly. After the bizarre incident he’d just experienced, he was eternally grateful for some normalcy. He could feel Mindy’s concerned gaze at his back as they went to feed the animals, but gave her a look that told her to let it be until later.
Later turned out to be after Isabelle and Willow had gone to bed, and he was sat in the living room. Mindy pressed a glass of whiskey into his hands, and sat down next to him. “Thanks.”
“You looked like you needed it. What’s wrong?”
It was always so easy to talk to Mindy - she had bottomless depths of compassion, and so Richard told her everything about the incident. She had guessed rather quickly that he had been carrying on some sort of relationship with Jeremy, and had been very encouraging about it. Their shared love for James, however, was something she hadn’t known about, and she listened to Richard with sympathy, rubbing a hand over his back.
“I just don’t know what to do,” Richard finished, looking up at her beseechingly.
“Don’t worry, love,” she soothed. “It’ll work out. You reacted fine, you did nothing wrong. You always thought that Mark person was a git, and you were right. Now, you should phone Jeremy and let him know what’s going on.”
“He’s going to regret us ever getting together. All that’s happened is one bad thing after another.”
“Don’t be stupid. Here.” She handed him the phone. “Call him. I’ll be in bed.” She pressed a kiss to his forehead and smiled affectionately at her husband, then headed off upstairs.
Richard looked dubiously at the phone, and then took the plunge. Downing his whiskey in one gulp, he dialled Jeremy’s number.
***
Jeremy was halfway asleep when the call came through, and he groaned loudly.
“Answer it,” Francie ordered him sleepily.
“Why me?” Jeremy protested innocently.
“It’s hardly going to be for me, is it?”
“Ugh.” Jeremy obeyed, however, and rolled to his feet stiffly, picking up the handset and answering as he headed into the kitchen. “Hello? This had better be good.”
“Jeremy?”
“Richard, what’s wrong?”
“What isn’t?” Richard replied dully, and then proceeded to tell him what had happened.
Jeremy listened to his story in absolute astonishment, and there was a long silence when he finished the tale in which neither of them spoke.
“Well,” he said eventually.
“I know,” Richard replied, and Jeremy could imagine him running a hand through his hair, as was the younger man’s habit.
“We were right, anyway,” he said, after a moment’s quiet. “Mark really is a dickhead.”
“Jeremy, that doesn’t help at all. I think I’d have preferred it if we were wrong. I can just about cope with him having a shit boyfriend, but to know he’s cheating and not to be able to do anything about it … that’s a whole different matter. I’m an arsehole if I don’t tell him, and I’m jeopardising his career if I do.”
“Do you really think he’d go to the press?”
“I don’t know. I can’t decide whether he does actually love James, and just likes a lot of cock, or if he’s a heartless bastard. I think he’s definitely got a soft spot for him. Maybe he wouldn’t, but I don’t think I can take the risk.”
“Christ. What a mess,” Jeremy said.
“Well, don’t try too hard to come up with any helpful suggestions, will you?” Richard snapped irritably.
“Well, I’ve never really been faced with this kind of situation before, Richard. Give me a minute, at least.”
Five minutes later and the only suggestion Jeremy had made was running Mark over with a Rolls Royce Phantom. Richard was whimpering hopelessly down the telephone line. “This is awful. It can’t end well.”
“I’m just saying, he’d deserve it - he threatened you, remember? It brings out all my protective instincts.”
“As sweet of you as that is, Jez, what are we going to do? Seriously.”
“Seriously, Rich, the only thing I can think of for us to do is to wait and see what happens. It’s a week until we start filming again. We can wait and see if Mark’s done the decent thing. If he hasn’t, then we’ll work something out. All right?”
“All right,” Richard said reluctantly. “We’ll do it your way. But only because I don’t have any other option.”
“Don’t worry. It’ll be ok,” Jeremy said, with a reassuring tone that wasn’t entirely convincing. “Love you.”
“Love you too,” Richard replied, as though it wasn’t the first time they’d actually said those words to one another. That, at least, made Jeremy smile before he hung up the phone.
***
They spent the six days leading up to Wednesday in tense apprehension, something that did neither of them any good. They managed to get a night together here and there, but it did nothing to help ease their minds, especially as they weren’t in contact with James except for the occasional text, which told them nothing. James’ texts were limited to simple replies, usually all in capitals and without any punctuation. By the time they arrived in the studio, Jeremy was in one of the worst moods he’d ever been in, and Richard was a bunch of nerves; his nails bitten to shreds.
“Is he here?” he asked Jeremy desperately. They were standing at the far end of the studio, away from the audience. Richard’s height meant he couldn’t see the entrance from where they stood, but Jeremy had a clear view of almost everything.
“I haven’t seen him - oh, wait, there he is!”
“Mark?”
“I can’t see him anywhere.”
“That’s good, isn’t it? I mean, he always comes. That’s good.” But despite Richard’s apparent happiness, he was still chewing on his fingernails, and his usual energetic jitters were even more pronounced than usual.
They didn’t have a chance to actually talk properly to James, because for once everything seemed to be running on schedule, and the production team were guiding them through takes with a speed not usually encountered on the Top Gear set.
Richard’s nervousness was affecting his performance, though, and although it was fairly easy for Jeremy to turn his behaviour into an amusing joke for the audience’s sake, along the lines of Richard being a rather hyperactive twelve-year-old at heart, the presenters were definitely not working as smoothly as they usually did.
It got so bad that Andy called a break in shooting, and the celebrity guest, who, luckily, happened to be a good friend of Jeremy’s, kept the audience happy by entertaining them while Andy sent James, Jeremy and Richard off to the Portakabin with strict instructions not to return until they had sorted the problem out.
“Right,” Jeremy said brightly, to start things off. “I suppose we should sort out this problem, whatever it is. James, any suggestions?”
“Well, I’ve been dumped, but I don’t suppose that would have anything to do with either of you, would it? James said icily.
“Oh, God,” Richard blurted out, his hand going to his mouth.
“Ah, yes, I forgot. It might have something to do with you, Hammond. How could you not tell me? Apparently you’ve known for weeks that Mark’s been having an affair, but you decided to just ignore it, and laugh at me for acting the fool and rushing to his side whenever he expected it!” James’ tone was harsher and angrier than either of the other men had ever heard it, and it was a chilling experience.
“Weeks?” Richard said, confused.
“Weeks, months, the time isn’t the issue. How could you not tell me?”
“Oh, God,” Richard said again, and sank into the nearest chair, looking rather ill.
“James, listen,” Jeremy said decisively, taking action as it was apparent that Richard wasn’t going to argue his case.
He was shocked by the venom in James’ eyes when he turned to look at him. “I should have known that you would be in on it, too. What is your problem? Can’t you handle the fact that I like other men? You said you were fine about it, but maybe that’s not the case.” Jeremy almost laughed out loud at the irony in what James was saying, but held it in, sensing that it would only worsen the situation. “All I know,” James continued, his voice becoming tinged with horrible sadness, “Is that you let me carry on a relationship with a man who probably never really loved me. And you probably laughed about it behind my back.”
“Are you finished?” Jeremy asked, as James took a deep breath. He didn’t give him a chance to reply before saying, “Good. Now, listen to me. Hear our side of the story. You already know that we didn’t like Mark. Not because we knew he was cheating on you for ages, but because he’s a pompous, dull twat, and nowhere near good enough for you. And also because we were jealous of all the time he kept spending with you, but that’s not the point. Richard only found out about Mark’s penchant for adultery when he went round to yours last Wednesday to fetch his iPod, and found your git of a boyfriend at it on your sofa. And the reason he didn’t tell you was because Mark threatened to go to the press and tell all about your relationship with him. So really, he didn’t tell you for your own protection. And I’ve had to be his agony aunt about it for the past week, which has been utter hell.”
It was James turn to go rather white in colour as he took in everything that Jeremy was saying. “Oh cock,” he uttered, in a pale imitation of his classic catchphrase. “I’ve been such a dickhead, haven’t I?”
Jeremy watched in awkward concern as the long-haired man collapsed onto the battered sofa against the wall of the Portakabin, dropping his head into his hands. He wasn’t too sure what to do with a distraught James. He was good at saying things in a loud voice that got people’s attention, not offering words of comfort and reassurance.
Luckily, Richard was a bit better at it than he was, and the smaller man had regained some of his senses, apparently, because he appeared at James’ side within seconds, wrapping an arm around the rangy shoulders. “To be honest, mate,” he said kindly, “Yes. You have. But not without a lot of reason.”
“I am so sorry I accused you like that,” James told him sincerely.
“I’m sure I’ve accused you of worse when I’m in one of my moods,” Richard replied with a teasing grin. “Don’t worry. Me and Jez will help you get over Mark.”
“I know he could be a bit of an arse, but he was good to me,” James said. “He made me breakfast in bed. And he listened to what I had to say. He called my dad an idiot.”
“Believe me, Jeremy could call your dad a lot worse.” James had to choke a laugh at that, and Jeremy smiled in relief at his change in demeanour.
“I can’t make you breakfast in bed, though. And I’ll listen to what you say only if it’s in agreement with what I think.”
“It sounds like the two of you are offering to take Mark’s place,” James joked, and then he looked up with raised eyebrows when his comment was met with wary silence. “What? You aren’t, are you? What on earth is going on?”
“James, mate,” Richard started.
“You have a lot to catch up on,” Jeremy finished for him. “But first, can we get this show over and done with? There’s just the interview to do, then a couple more links, and then we can go back to the flat.”
“What flat?” James asked in bewilderment as his two co-presenters hauled him to his feet.
“You’ll find out,” Richard promised, and the smile in his eyes gave James the hope that what he was going to find out would be very pleasing indeed.
***
True to their word, Richard and Jeremy took James back to the flat, and told him everything that had happened over the past couple of months that he didn’t know about. James listened in bemused, shocked silence as they carried on in their usual way, as though it was just some story about going shopping that they were telling. They talked over one another, finished one another’s sentences, and argued pettily over small details that meant nothing.
It was both rather endearing and frustrating, because it meant that James was left with a rather garbled image of events that he had to piece together.
“So, what you’re saying is that the two of you have been sleeping together for about a fortnight, and you’d quite like it if I joined you?”
Richard squirmed in his chair, and Jeremy poked him before saying, very matter-of-factly, “That’s the idea. You in?”
“This is bizarre. I mean, I can’t quite believe this. You know. Mark is the first proper boyfriend I’ve ever had, fat lot of good he turned out to be, and now I have my two - frankly, rather infuriating - co-presenters asking if I’d like to go to bed with them.”
“Well, it goes a bit deeper than that, really,” Richard pointed out shyly.
James gaped for a few minutes longer, long enough that Jeremy asked, “Is that a no?”
“Christ …” James said haltingly. “All I want to say is yes, honestly. But this is just so crazy.”
“You’ll get used to it,” Richard told him sagely. “If I can help at all …” With that, the youngest of the trio slithered across to James and, with exquisite care, took his head in his hands and kissed him softly; almost delicately.
James was quite out of breath when he pulled away, and he could see Jeremy looking hungrily at them out of the corner of his eye. “That helps rather a lot,” he breathed huskily.
“Perhaps we should show you the rest of the flat,” Jeremy suggested, his tone not dissimilar to James. “Starting with the bedroom.”
James’ smile was genuine, and his agreement this time absolute. “Excellent idea.”
***
Some time later, James was lying awake at one side of the king size bed. His arms were wrapped around Richard, who in turn was clinging to him fiercely, even in slumber; warm body pressed tightly against his own. Jeremy, in turn, was spooned around Richard from behind, deeply asleep with his mouth gaping open, huffs of breath parting Richard’s hair.
The sex had been … well, interesting, in James’ opinion. He had been as inexperienced as Richard and Jeremy when it came to threesomes, and the awkwardness of trying to get intimate with two men who were as different in height and shape as Laurel and Hardy should have been enough to erase any thoughts of passion from his mind. Yet somehow, they had managed it, not without a good deal of bickering and giggling. When they had finally found a way to perform without anyone getting severe cramp, however, James had nearly been blown away. He could even recall seeing stars.
Afterwards, in that pleasant post-orgasmic haze, he remembered saying, “I don’t think I can go back to my house. Not after I know what they did on my sofa.”
“You’ll have to sell it,” Jeremy had murmured in his ear.
“You won’t get much for it, though. Awful decoration, especially in your upstairs bathroom. You have terrible taste,” Richard informed him.
“Except in men,” Jeremy had added as an afterthought. “Well, us.”
James had smiled then, and hadn’t stopped yet, even as he could feel sleep creeping up on him. He savoured the image of Jeremy and Richard lying in the same bed as him one last time before shutting his eyes, and his last conscious feeling was one of awe, and surprise, at the way he had fitted so perfectly into the bed with his two lovers.
Fin
Pairing: OT3
Notes: First part in below post.
A Saga, Of Sorts - Part Two
James woke up feeling happy, and relaxed, but with that odd feeling that he’d forgotten to do something. It stayed with him while he showered, and it wasn’t until he was sitting at the table, watching Richard criticise Jeremy’s cooking skills, that he realised what it was.
“Oh, cock,” he said, pushing himself to his feet and fleeing the room.
He returned to find his two colleagues waiting in some concern, and he held up his mobile in explanation. “I forgot to call Mark. He left ten messages.”
“Isn’t that slight overkill?” Richard asked. “I mean, he knew where you were.”
“He wanted me to call, and let him know I was all right.” James was already dialling Mark’s number, running a hand frustratedly through his hair. He could see Richard scowling at him, and Jeremy looking wary behind him - never a good sign. Richard had a habit of flying off the handle, especially in the mornings, and when even Jeremy was looking nervous, it didn’t bode well.
“What?” Mark’s angry voice crunched out through his phone.
“Shit, Mark, I’m so sorry.”
“Well, you should be. What were you playing at? I was worried, James. What happened? Did filming overrun?”
“No,” James admitted quietly, slinking out of the kitchen and lowering his voice in the hallway. “I just … we got back and started talking, and I forgot to switch my phone back on. It was stupid of me.”
“Yes, it bloody was. You seem to drop everything whenever you go off with those two hooligans.”
“Mark, they’re my best mates.”
“This argument is getting incredibly repetitive, James. I don’t like feeling like I’m not the most important thing in your life - you say that I am, but it’s increasingly difficult to believe.” James scrubbed at his forehead at Marks‘ words.
“You are, Mark. Honestly. It’s hard to explain. I just wish you knew Jeremy and Richard better.” There was silence on the other end of the phone. “Listen, I’ll catch the earlier ferry back over, ok? I’ll be back by three.”
“Ok,” Mark said eventually. “Then we need to talk.”
James winced at those last words. They never boded well in a relationship, and the sound of the phone being hung up swiftly didn’t sound very promising either.
He headed back into the kitchen and found himself faced with a furious Richard.
“I thought we were going to have a last drive around before we got on the ferry,” he spat.
“Rich, Mark’s not happy. I’ve got to get home. You can appreciate that, can’t you?”
“I can’t quite bring myself to, when he seems to dictate your every move,” Richard said angrily. Jeremy tried to rest a placating hand on the smaller man’s shoulder, and it was shrugged off violently.
“That’s not fair-“
“What’s not fair, James, is that we only get to see you properly now when we’re at work. And he even limits that time too, so excuse me if I think you’re being a bit of a fucking twat!” Richard’s voice had risen in a terrible crescendo, and he was red in the face, throwing a proper tantrum. He threw his hands up in the air, as if unsure what to do with them, and then stormed out, leaving a stony silence in the kitchen, punctuated only by the slamming of the front door.
“He probably didn’t mean it,” Jeremy said weakly.
James looked at him. He could feel that horrible sensation of being pulled apart once more, and it was unpleasant to say the least. “Do you feel the same way too?” he asked Jeremy, in a croaky voice.
“Well, it has become less and less often that we see you, mate.”
“Do you hate Mark as much as he seems to?” He nodded his head towards the door Richard had exited by.
Jeremy forced himself, with some difficulty, not to say ‘more’. Instead, he said, not very convincingly, “Richard doesn’t hate Mark. We just don’t know him very well, that’s all.”
“He’s been coming to filming for ages - how can you not know him?”
“Because he doesn’t speak! Not to us, anyway. He just speaks to you, and exchanges vague pleasantries with us.”
James was stumped. He had no response. Jeremy was right, when he looked back, and that seemed to be the root of the problem. He was being pulled between his boyfriend and his two best friends because they had never really gelled, and there had to be a way to fix that.
“James, I’m so sorry,” Richard said matter-of-factly. James hadn’t heard the click of the door as he’d re-entered the house, looking a good deal calmer. “I didn’t mean what I said. Honestly. You know what I’m like. Worse temper than Beelzebub.”
He looked genuinely apologetic, and James had never been able to resist Richard’s guilty expression. He knew Richard well enough to have experienced a good deal of his fits of anger, and knew that they passed as quickly as they started, and he never failed to say sorry afterwards. “It’s all right. Jeremy explained the problem.”
“He did?” Richard asked, raising his eyebrows and flashing a puzzled look at Jeremy.
“Well, I told him that we didn’t dislike Mark, we just didn’t know him very well. And being the jealous gits that we are, we got a bit miffed,” Jeremy said quickly, lest Richard thought he’d suddenly blurted out their secret desire for James.
“Oh,” Richard said, looking vaguely disappointed.
“Listen, I really have to go. I promised. I’m sorry to leave like this, but I’ll tell you what; come over for dinner next Tuesday. Seven o’clock. You can start to get to know him better, all right?”
“All right,” Richard agreed for the two of them, feeling that it was the least he could do after losing his temper so shockingly.
James looked so relieved, though, that he couldn’t help but think he’d made the right decision in saying yes, and he kept the smile on his face purposefully right up until James turned out of the drive, bags hurriedly packed.
“What a fuck up,” Jeremy commented when the Honda had vanished from sight, and Richard let out a groan and threw himself melodramatically against Jeremy’s chest. Jeremy chuckled at his behaviour despite himself. “I’d forgotten I’d decided to start having sex with a tornado.”
“Christ. But that Mark’s a dick. Wanting James to call him? I said goodbye to Mindy yesterday and she told me to let her know if one of us died. That was it. I didn’t mean to blow up like that.”
“You rarely do. You’re just the most bad-tempered man in the world,” Jeremy said, his voice half-mocking and half-soothing as he ran a gentle hand through Richard’s hair.
“And James is the nicest. Did you see how upset he was?”
“Yeah,” Jeremy said thoughtfully. “I did. I want to know whether it’s because he’s naturally insecure, or whether we’re not being paranoid, jealous bastards and Mark has got his claws into him.”
“I suppose we’ll find out on Tuesday,” Richard said into Jeremy’s warm jumper.
“I suppose so.”
***
They turned up at James’ on Tuesday night in separate cars, dressed smartly and carrying identical bottles of a particular Sicilian wine that James was partial to.
“Jeremy has no originality whatsoever,” Richard informed their host as they entered. “He copied my idea.”
“Thank you - both of you. Do you have any idea how hard it is to get hold of this stuff?” James called to Mark as he let them in.
“I’m not much of a wine buff, I’m afraid,” Mark said, smiling and reaching over to shake hands with the two men as they entered. “Good to see the two of you. Enjoying the week off after your trip away?” Due to some rubbish sports programme, Top Gear had been given a week off, which Jeremy had been characteristically scathing about. They weren’t due back in the studio until the following Wednesday.
“I’m not missing the early mornings,” Jeremy said, feeling rather trite as he did so. He wasn’t very good at making small talk.
“You always arrange your schedule so you don’t have to get up until ten!” Richard retorted. Still feeling guilty after his outburst, the younger man had been determined to make an effort at this dinner ever since, and Jeremy was very glad of his lover’s ability to chatter about absolutely anything as the evening progressed.
It allowed him to sit back and watch Mark and James as they interacted, and to try and spot any weaknesses. Annoyingly, he could find very few. Mark was still a rather uninteresting person, and he didn’t make jokes ever, as far as he could tell, but he was managing to present himself as a decent enough bloke.
Over dinner, which, Jeremy had been rather shocked to discover, was a vegetarian meal prepared by Mark, he had found out more about him than he had done in the two and a half months James and he had been going out together. He did, he admitted rather reluctantly, have qualities that he assumed James would like. Despite no interest whatsoever in cars, Mark was a musician, playing the flute and oboe, and an avid historian with a lot of useless facts stored up in his brain. Whenever he mentioned one, James seemed very interested, as he usually was by things like that, whereas Richard and Jeremy listened politely and then immediately forgot what the fact had been.
They didn’t stay too long - long enough to eat dinner, and stay for a chat afterwards, and then they left together, thanking them for a great night and heading out into the street.
“Well?” Richard said miserably once they were out of the house and out of sight of the windows.
“I think we should go back to mine and have a talk,” Jeremy said.
“Francie and the kids are there, Jez. I know our wives have been incredibly understanding about us, but to bring me home and then to talk about how much we fancy James would be rubbing her nose in it just a bit, don’t you think?”
“Just get your car, and follow me, all right?” Jeremy said, leaving Richard no room to argue by adopting his bossy voice.
Richard sighed and did as he was told. It was late, but central London was still busy, and he followed Jeremy’s Mercedes through the streets without really paying attention to where they were going, just to the pedestrians he needed to dodge.
When they finally reached their destination, he followed Jeremy into an underground car park in a building right next to the Thames, not too far up from Tower Bridge. “Where are we?” he asked Jeremy.
“My new flat,” Jeremy told him as he led him over to the lift and pressed the button for the top floor.
“What?”
“It’s rented, of course. I figured that because I was spending so much time in London, what with filming, it was about time I got a flat here. Plus, Francie’s thinking of permanently relocating to the Isle of Man, and living there. There’s no point having two homes, really.”
“Fair enough,” Richard agreed, and then gasped when he saw the flat. It was small, although that was only in comparison to his own house. By London standards, it was a fair size. It had a bedroom, lounge, dining room, bathroom, kitchen, and balcony, and wasn’t too modern, which both he and Jeremy hated. “It’s really, really nice, Jez.”
“Good. Because it also serves another purpose - instead of meeting one another down back roads and in secret broom cupboards, we’ve got somewhere we can go.” Jeremy bit his lip nervously as he waited for Richard’s reaction. “I mean, say if you think I’m moving a bit too fast.”
“It’s perfect, Jez. One of your better ideas. And as for moving too fast, neither of us have ever been patient men, have we? I’ve got a meeting tomorrow so it’s perfect. Let me phone Mindy and let her know I’m staying here tonight, and then I’m all yours.”
“I like the sound of that.”
Forty minutes later, and they were wrapped up in the giant bed, a little bit sweaty, quite out of breath, but completely sated. “I have to say, the ride is very comfortable,” Jeremy said, making Richard giggle helplessly. “It’s not a bad-looking beast, and it has some power. I was particularly impressed with the gear stick-“
“You’re an idiot,” Richard told him through his amusement. Jeremy grinned and pulled Richard even closer to him, marvelling at how quickly it had become natural for him to hug the other man close.
He let them relax for a few more minutes before broaching the important subject. “So, tonight. Complete disaster?”
“Complete and utter,” Richard agreed. “He’s so, unbelievably nice. Boring, but nice. I thought I was going to scream.”
“He’s just James’ type, I suppose. Quiet, knowledgeable, and safe.”
“I hate that word.”
“Well, my verdict would have to be that while he is under Mark’s thumb slightly, it’s not because the man is an evil git.”
“I think James really loves him. I think he’s pretty insecure about his sexuality, and Mark’s like, a sort of rock for him.”
“So we shouldn’t break them up?”
“Probably not,” Richard said, letting out a frustrated sigh. “He’s still a prick though.”
“Absolutely. Did you see what he was drinking? Budweiser. Ugh.”
“I thought you were going to have a fit when the meal didn’t have any meat in,” Richard said, grinning as he remembered Jeremy’s hastily hidden expression of horror. Jeremy’s inherent dislike for anything healthy always made him laugh.
“I think I did. I’m going to have sausages for breakfast to make up for it.”
“We may not have James, mate,” Richard said, after another few moments of comfortable silence, “But I’m really glad I’ve got you.”
Jeremy smiled and hugged him closer. “Me too.”
***
“Bugger,” Richard said the next morning as he pulled on yesterday’s clothes. “I’ve left my iPod at James’.”
“Why did you have it with you? In case you got bored?” Jeremy asked from where he was lounging on the sofa.
“I just had it in my pocket. I’ll drop by his after the meeting - I’ll need it for the way home.”
“I’ve got some CDs you could borrow, if you like,” Jeremy offered.
Richard glared at him as he pulled on his distinctly rumpled shirt. “The Dodge doesn’t have a CD player, as well you know, and I wouldn’t listen to your awful music anyway. Fuck, I am going to look so rough at this meeting. Do you think they’ll be able to tell I had sex last night and didn’t have a spare set of clothes for the next day?” He posed in front of Jeremy, who raked his eyes over the lithe frame, barely taking in the dishevelled clothing.
“I hope so,” he said after a minute. “You won’t look pure or wholesome enough for them to suggest another daytime TV show.”
“You are so unhelpful,” Richard said. Despite that, however, he managed to be out of the flat in plenty of time for his meeting, and looking more or less presentable. Thanks to Jeremy’s suspiciously well-stocked bathroom, he also smelled all right as well, and got through the meeting with no comments.
He headed straight to James’ house after the meeting was over, stopping only to pick up a new t-shirt, so that the other man didn’t ask him why he obviously hadn’t been home the night before.
He knocked on the door, having luckily found a parking space it was just about possible to park his Dodge in easily, and waited for a few moments. He received no reply, and frowned. James’ Bentley was parked neatly on the drive, as was his bike. And he never, ever took public transport unless it was absolutely necessary.
Further investigation revealed that the door was actually unlocked, which caused his frown only to deepen more - James’ neighbourhood wasn’t particularly dangerous, but it wasn’t completely safe, either. He wandered through to the front room, calling out James’ name as he did.
What he found when he opened the door caused him to jump back in horror. There were no dead bodies or anything gruesome like that, but the spectacle that greeted him was, in his books, nearly as vile.
“Fucking hell,” he exclaimed as the two men leapt to their feet at his entrance, covering themselves up with a throw from the sofa (in Marks’ case) and a cushion (a rather less-effective solution utilised by his unidentifiable black-haired male companion).
“Richard, this-“ Mark began, but stopped short, obviously realising that there was no way he could come up with an effective cover story.
“You absolute bastard. I’m assuming James doesn’t know about this?”
“He’s gone out. In my car,” Mark said, a little pointlessly.
“Your car?” Richard asked, momentarily distracted.
“Yes. It’s easier to drive in traffic. And cheaper.”
“It’s still a Rover … how could you do this to him? I thought you loved him - it certainly seemed so, from last night’s performance.” Richard’s tone was hard and furious.
“I do,” Mark said, earning himself a glare from his rather young companion. “I mean … I feel a lot of affection for James. He’s been through a lot - his father didn’t accept his sexuality, you know, and he’s scarred by it. He doesn’t want people knowing about him. He told me how terrified he was telling you and James.”
“I’m sure your cheating on him will do a lot to boost his self confidence,” Richard spat angrily.
“Don’t tell him. Please, don’t tell him. I do love him. It’s just that I like to have other lovers too - he means nothing to me, honestly!” Mark’s tone became ever more pleading, and his ‘other lover’ scowled at his words. Richard cast his gaze onto him.
“You. Get dressed, and get the fuck out of this house.” His voice was low; almost deadly, and all the defiance left the young man’s face as he snatched his clothes up from where they lay in various locations on the floor and bolted out of the door. “Now,” Richard said, turning his attention back to the tall blond. “What are you going to do now?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re going to have to tell him. Given a choice between seeing James remain hopelessly in love with a git like you, or seeing him suffer a bit of a loss of confidence, I think I’d choose the latter. So if you don’t tell him, I bloody will, all right?”
Mark’s face twisted grotesquely and he threw the blanket covering his nakedness away angrily, and then took a few threatening steps towards Richard. “If you mention a word of this to anyone, you little wanker, I’ll ruin James. I’ll go to the press, and tell them everything. Which option will you choose now, then?”
Despite his disadvantage in height, Richard stood his ground. He was beginning to see red, and a bead of sweat was trickling down his temple. “Whichever one gets rid of you fastest,” he ground out. “Now get the fuck away from me.”
Mark, surprised by the lack of reaction, backed off slightly, and Richard took the opportunity to grab his iPod off the coffee table and shook it at Mark, before shakily making his way to the front door.
He remained livid until he was nearly halfway back to his home in the Cotswolds. He’d ploughed his way through the traffic, cutting countless people up and nearly causing a fair few crashes. He had, at least, put his sunglasses on, so that hopefully he wouldn’t be recognised, but other than that his mind had been preoccupied with processing what had just happened. His first instinct had been to go straight to Jeremy’s flat, but he’d remembered that the older man had headed back to Oxfordshire, and would be with his family.
He began to calm down gradually as he got closer to his home, and by the time he walked in the door, he wasn’t angry anymore, only shocked. His daughters leapt on him as soon as he walked in, wanting to show him this and that and demanding his attention, which he gave gladly. After the bizarre incident he’d just experienced, he was eternally grateful for some normalcy. He could feel Mindy’s concerned gaze at his back as they went to feed the animals, but gave her a look that told her to let it be until later.
Later turned out to be after Isabelle and Willow had gone to bed, and he was sat in the living room. Mindy pressed a glass of whiskey into his hands, and sat down next to him. “Thanks.”
“You looked like you needed it. What’s wrong?”
It was always so easy to talk to Mindy - she had bottomless depths of compassion, and so Richard told her everything about the incident. She had guessed rather quickly that he had been carrying on some sort of relationship with Jeremy, and had been very encouraging about it. Their shared love for James, however, was something she hadn’t known about, and she listened to Richard with sympathy, rubbing a hand over his back.
“I just don’t know what to do,” Richard finished, looking up at her beseechingly.
“Don’t worry, love,” she soothed. “It’ll work out. You reacted fine, you did nothing wrong. You always thought that Mark person was a git, and you were right. Now, you should phone Jeremy and let him know what’s going on.”
“He’s going to regret us ever getting together. All that’s happened is one bad thing after another.”
“Don’t be stupid. Here.” She handed him the phone. “Call him. I’ll be in bed.” She pressed a kiss to his forehead and smiled affectionately at her husband, then headed off upstairs.
Richard looked dubiously at the phone, and then took the plunge. Downing his whiskey in one gulp, he dialled Jeremy’s number.
***
Jeremy was halfway asleep when the call came through, and he groaned loudly.
“Answer it,” Francie ordered him sleepily.
“Why me?” Jeremy protested innocently.
“It’s hardly going to be for me, is it?”
“Ugh.” Jeremy obeyed, however, and rolled to his feet stiffly, picking up the handset and answering as he headed into the kitchen. “Hello? This had better be good.”
“Jeremy?”
“Richard, what’s wrong?”
“What isn’t?” Richard replied dully, and then proceeded to tell him what had happened.
Jeremy listened to his story in absolute astonishment, and there was a long silence when he finished the tale in which neither of them spoke.
“Well,” he said eventually.
“I know,” Richard replied, and Jeremy could imagine him running a hand through his hair, as was the younger man’s habit.
“We were right, anyway,” he said, after a moment’s quiet. “Mark really is a dickhead.”
“Jeremy, that doesn’t help at all. I think I’d have preferred it if we were wrong. I can just about cope with him having a shit boyfriend, but to know he’s cheating and not to be able to do anything about it … that’s a whole different matter. I’m an arsehole if I don’t tell him, and I’m jeopardising his career if I do.”
“Do you really think he’d go to the press?”
“I don’t know. I can’t decide whether he does actually love James, and just likes a lot of cock, or if he’s a heartless bastard. I think he’s definitely got a soft spot for him. Maybe he wouldn’t, but I don’t think I can take the risk.”
“Christ. What a mess,” Jeremy said.
“Well, don’t try too hard to come up with any helpful suggestions, will you?” Richard snapped irritably.
“Well, I’ve never really been faced with this kind of situation before, Richard. Give me a minute, at least.”
Five minutes later and the only suggestion Jeremy had made was running Mark over with a Rolls Royce Phantom. Richard was whimpering hopelessly down the telephone line. “This is awful. It can’t end well.”
“I’m just saying, he’d deserve it - he threatened you, remember? It brings out all my protective instincts.”
“As sweet of you as that is, Jez, what are we going to do? Seriously.”
“Seriously, Rich, the only thing I can think of for us to do is to wait and see what happens. It’s a week until we start filming again. We can wait and see if Mark’s done the decent thing. If he hasn’t, then we’ll work something out. All right?”
“All right,” Richard said reluctantly. “We’ll do it your way. But only because I don’t have any other option.”
“Don’t worry. It’ll be ok,” Jeremy said, with a reassuring tone that wasn’t entirely convincing. “Love you.”
“Love you too,” Richard replied, as though it wasn’t the first time they’d actually said those words to one another. That, at least, made Jeremy smile before he hung up the phone.
***
They spent the six days leading up to Wednesday in tense apprehension, something that did neither of them any good. They managed to get a night together here and there, but it did nothing to help ease their minds, especially as they weren’t in contact with James except for the occasional text, which told them nothing. James’ texts were limited to simple replies, usually all in capitals and without any punctuation. By the time they arrived in the studio, Jeremy was in one of the worst moods he’d ever been in, and Richard was a bunch of nerves; his nails bitten to shreds.
“Is he here?” he asked Jeremy desperately. They were standing at the far end of the studio, away from the audience. Richard’s height meant he couldn’t see the entrance from where they stood, but Jeremy had a clear view of almost everything.
“I haven’t seen him - oh, wait, there he is!”
“Mark?”
“I can’t see him anywhere.”
“That’s good, isn’t it? I mean, he always comes. That’s good.” But despite Richard’s apparent happiness, he was still chewing on his fingernails, and his usual energetic jitters were even more pronounced than usual.
They didn’t have a chance to actually talk properly to James, because for once everything seemed to be running on schedule, and the production team were guiding them through takes with a speed not usually encountered on the Top Gear set.
Richard’s nervousness was affecting his performance, though, and although it was fairly easy for Jeremy to turn his behaviour into an amusing joke for the audience’s sake, along the lines of Richard being a rather hyperactive twelve-year-old at heart, the presenters were definitely not working as smoothly as they usually did.
It got so bad that Andy called a break in shooting, and the celebrity guest, who, luckily, happened to be a good friend of Jeremy’s, kept the audience happy by entertaining them while Andy sent James, Jeremy and Richard off to the Portakabin with strict instructions not to return until they had sorted the problem out.
“Right,” Jeremy said brightly, to start things off. “I suppose we should sort out this problem, whatever it is. James, any suggestions?”
“Well, I’ve been dumped, but I don’t suppose that would have anything to do with either of you, would it? James said icily.
“Oh, God,” Richard blurted out, his hand going to his mouth.
“Ah, yes, I forgot. It might have something to do with you, Hammond. How could you not tell me? Apparently you’ve known for weeks that Mark’s been having an affair, but you decided to just ignore it, and laugh at me for acting the fool and rushing to his side whenever he expected it!” James’ tone was harsher and angrier than either of the other men had ever heard it, and it was a chilling experience.
“Weeks?” Richard said, confused.
“Weeks, months, the time isn’t the issue. How could you not tell me?”
“Oh, God,” Richard said again, and sank into the nearest chair, looking rather ill.
“James, listen,” Jeremy said decisively, taking action as it was apparent that Richard wasn’t going to argue his case.
He was shocked by the venom in James’ eyes when he turned to look at him. “I should have known that you would be in on it, too. What is your problem? Can’t you handle the fact that I like other men? You said you were fine about it, but maybe that’s not the case.” Jeremy almost laughed out loud at the irony in what James was saying, but held it in, sensing that it would only worsen the situation. “All I know,” James continued, his voice becoming tinged with horrible sadness, “Is that you let me carry on a relationship with a man who probably never really loved me. And you probably laughed about it behind my back.”
“Are you finished?” Jeremy asked, as James took a deep breath. He didn’t give him a chance to reply before saying, “Good. Now, listen to me. Hear our side of the story. You already know that we didn’t like Mark. Not because we knew he was cheating on you for ages, but because he’s a pompous, dull twat, and nowhere near good enough for you. And also because we were jealous of all the time he kept spending with you, but that’s not the point. Richard only found out about Mark’s penchant for adultery when he went round to yours last Wednesday to fetch his iPod, and found your git of a boyfriend at it on your sofa. And the reason he didn’t tell you was because Mark threatened to go to the press and tell all about your relationship with him. So really, he didn’t tell you for your own protection. And I’ve had to be his agony aunt about it for the past week, which has been utter hell.”
It was James turn to go rather white in colour as he took in everything that Jeremy was saying. “Oh cock,” he uttered, in a pale imitation of his classic catchphrase. “I’ve been such a dickhead, haven’t I?”
Jeremy watched in awkward concern as the long-haired man collapsed onto the battered sofa against the wall of the Portakabin, dropping his head into his hands. He wasn’t too sure what to do with a distraught James. He was good at saying things in a loud voice that got people’s attention, not offering words of comfort and reassurance.
Luckily, Richard was a bit better at it than he was, and the smaller man had regained some of his senses, apparently, because he appeared at James’ side within seconds, wrapping an arm around the rangy shoulders. “To be honest, mate,” he said kindly, “Yes. You have. But not without a lot of reason.”
“I am so sorry I accused you like that,” James told him sincerely.
“I’m sure I’ve accused you of worse when I’m in one of my moods,” Richard replied with a teasing grin. “Don’t worry. Me and Jez will help you get over Mark.”
“I know he could be a bit of an arse, but he was good to me,” James said. “He made me breakfast in bed. And he listened to what I had to say. He called my dad an idiot.”
“Believe me, Jeremy could call your dad a lot worse.” James had to choke a laugh at that, and Jeremy smiled in relief at his change in demeanour.
“I can’t make you breakfast in bed, though. And I’ll listen to what you say only if it’s in agreement with what I think.”
“It sounds like the two of you are offering to take Mark’s place,” James joked, and then he looked up with raised eyebrows when his comment was met with wary silence. “What? You aren’t, are you? What on earth is going on?”
“James, mate,” Richard started.
“You have a lot to catch up on,” Jeremy finished for him. “But first, can we get this show over and done with? There’s just the interview to do, then a couple more links, and then we can go back to the flat.”
“What flat?” James asked in bewilderment as his two co-presenters hauled him to his feet.
“You’ll find out,” Richard promised, and the smile in his eyes gave James the hope that what he was going to find out would be very pleasing indeed.
***
True to their word, Richard and Jeremy took James back to the flat, and told him everything that had happened over the past couple of months that he didn’t know about. James listened in bemused, shocked silence as they carried on in their usual way, as though it was just some story about going shopping that they were telling. They talked over one another, finished one another’s sentences, and argued pettily over small details that meant nothing.
It was both rather endearing and frustrating, because it meant that James was left with a rather garbled image of events that he had to piece together.
“So, what you’re saying is that the two of you have been sleeping together for about a fortnight, and you’d quite like it if I joined you?”
Richard squirmed in his chair, and Jeremy poked him before saying, very matter-of-factly, “That’s the idea. You in?”
“This is bizarre. I mean, I can’t quite believe this. You know. Mark is the first proper boyfriend I’ve ever had, fat lot of good he turned out to be, and now I have my two - frankly, rather infuriating - co-presenters asking if I’d like to go to bed with them.”
“Well, it goes a bit deeper than that, really,” Richard pointed out shyly.
James gaped for a few minutes longer, long enough that Jeremy asked, “Is that a no?”
“Christ …” James said haltingly. “All I want to say is yes, honestly. But this is just so crazy.”
“You’ll get used to it,” Richard told him sagely. “If I can help at all …” With that, the youngest of the trio slithered across to James and, with exquisite care, took his head in his hands and kissed him softly; almost delicately.
James was quite out of breath when he pulled away, and he could see Jeremy looking hungrily at them out of the corner of his eye. “That helps rather a lot,” he breathed huskily.
“Perhaps we should show you the rest of the flat,” Jeremy suggested, his tone not dissimilar to James. “Starting with the bedroom.”
James’ smile was genuine, and his agreement this time absolute. “Excellent idea.”
***
Some time later, James was lying awake at one side of the king size bed. His arms were wrapped around Richard, who in turn was clinging to him fiercely, even in slumber; warm body pressed tightly against his own. Jeremy, in turn, was spooned around Richard from behind, deeply asleep with his mouth gaping open, huffs of breath parting Richard’s hair.
The sex had been … well, interesting, in James’ opinion. He had been as inexperienced as Richard and Jeremy when it came to threesomes, and the awkwardness of trying to get intimate with two men who were as different in height and shape as Laurel and Hardy should have been enough to erase any thoughts of passion from his mind. Yet somehow, they had managed it, not without a good deal of bickering and giggling. When they had finally found a way to perform without anyone getting severe cramp, however, James had nearly been blown away. He could even recall seeing stars.
Afterwards, in that pleasant post-orgasmic haze, he remembered saying, “I don’t think I can go back to my house. Not after I know what they did on my sofa.”
“You’ll have to sell it,” Jeremy had murmured in his ear.
“You won’t get much for it, though. Awful decoration, especially in your upstairs bathroom. You have terrible taste,” Richard informed him.
“Except in men,” Jeremy had added as an afterthought. “Well, us.”
James had smiled then, and hadn’t stopped yet, even as he could feel sleep creeping up on him. He savoured the image of Jeremy and Richard lying in the same bed as him one last time before shutting his eyes, and his last conscious feeling was one of awe, and surprise, at the way he had fitted so perfectly into the bed with his two lovers.
Fin