After Dinner
Just a whisper, not to wake their sleeping companion, Jeremy murmured, "You've no idea how long I've wanted to do this."
Pushing himself up onto one elbow on the bed, James wondered if the smile on his face looked as sappy as it felt.
He
watched Jeremy, one arm curled under his head, the other draped
posessively around Richard who lay on his side between them, breathing
steadily, snoring softly. Sated. Knackered. They'd done that - he and
Jeremy - they'd finally managed to focus all that boundless energy on
something without four tyres and an engine. They'd made him moan and
yell and even scream at one particularly memorable point.
James
felt ridiculously proud as Jeremy lowered his face into Richard's
sweat-damp hair, closed his eyes, breathed him in. He wasn't sure there
was a more beautiful or strangely erotic sight to be seen. Sappy.
Definitely.
"How long?"
"Since I first laid eyes on him."
How many years ago was that?
The
majority of James' mind was still frozen in time, around two or three
hours back, still sitting at the candlelit table, staring open-mouthed
at Jeremy, still marvelling at the man's audacity as he took advantage
of Richard's nearness and kissed him. Actually kissed him. Not a trick
of the candlelight, not an illusion of James' warped imagination.
Years. Was the same true for Richard?
"What about you?"
"What?"
He blinked, saw the thin smile on Jeremy's face. "Erm...." What about
him? It wasn't that this had never crossed his mind. He'd teased
Richard on occasions, tested the water and come up against a great big
red 'No Swimming' sign. But tonight Jeremy had waded in with his size
12s.
He'd watched them, uncertain if they even knew what they
were doing, seeing the inevitable barriers between them melt away in
the warm glow of candlelight and alcohol. Nudges escalating into small
touches, the innate chemistry notching the tension up, until after the
nth glass of wine and the second glass of port, Jeremy - arms crossed
on the smooth table - had leaned over, tucked his head down, and
touched his lips to Richard's.
The thud of James' heart, the
throbbing of his dick, had been the only proof he'd had that time was
still passing. He hadn't quite believed what he was seeing. He wasn't
sure what he'd expected Richard to do, but to punch Jeremy's lights out
was quite high up on his guess list. To tilt his head, open his mouth,
melt under Jeremy who turned the kiss from purfunctory contact into
proprietary posession, hadn't even featured on it.
That possession was still there now; Jeremy's embrace - however loose - was screaming it.
"You
beat me to it." His ironic smile reflected Jeremy's sated, contented
expression - as if someone had finally given him everything he'd ever
wished for. "I didn't think he liked me."
He'd said that to
Richard earlier on. As the two of them had rounded the table heading
for the door, the stairs, Jeremy's bedroom, Richard had beckoned to
him, expression all expectation and blurred arousal.
"I thought you didn't like me."
Richard had laughed - that wonderful, infectious giggle - and replied, "Don't be draft."
"Don't be daft," Jeremy echoed, voice still a whisper.
James
reached out, hesitating, still uncertain about his welcome here.
Participant or spectator? Jeremy caught his hand, threaded their
fingers, squeezed once before letting go.
"You and him...?"
"Ah.
Now that's a complicated one." James saw him find Richard's hand, limp
in sleep and tightened his arm over him. "Don't know if I really
understand it myself. Just something about being the man who has
everything. Family, friends, fame and fortune. And then along comes
someone who sets sparks off inside you, someone you have such great
chemistry with if they were the opposite sex it would be making the
front page of Nuts. You both pretend it isn't happening, isn't
there, isn't real. For years. And it's okay because it isn't happening
and it isn't real. But it's there, all the time. You can't stay away
from it, keep coming back to it until one night there's wine and
candles and you're so far from home, from real life, you decide to
steal something you shouldn't have."
Amazed, James stared into the eyes that held his, challenging and daring.
This
really was impossible. This couldn't happen. At least not out there in
the real world. Tonight was a dream, a thought, a song; real life
excluded from the oval of candlelight by the darkness beyond it.
Tomorrow
when the sun rose on the beautiful scene that surrounded them, the
warm, almost magical feeling of this - something like Christmas - would
probably linger, would stave off the cold as they stood at the windows
sipping coffee and sat around the same table they had tonight eating a
hearty breakfast.
But later, when they climbed into the taxi
that would take them to the airport, when the german technician arrived
to take the winning vehicle back home at a more sedate pace than Jeremy
had driven it here at, then this could never have happened.
He
could imagine the headlines. They probably weren't important enough to
make the Guardian or the Independent, but possibly they would make
front page of the Daily Mail, and the Sun and the Mirror would have a
field day. The headline would be something utterly unimaginative, like
BBC Presenters In Three-Way Homo-Romp
probably with some crude, obvious jokes about dip sticks and exhaust pipes thrown in for good measure.
James
thought he should at least feel some slight shame over what they'd
done, some embarrassment in being a part of an act the tabloids would
flock with glee to plaster all over their million-copies-a-day-sold
excuses for newspapers.
He didn't.
This hadn't so much
been festering beneath the surface as simmering gently just above it,
waiting for opportunity, waiting for Richard and Jeremy's need to
outweigh their judgement and tip and balance between fantasy and
reality, dragging James with it.
So much of what they did
already crossed the line anyway. The cars they drove, the people they
met, these insane races across Europe in various forms of transport -
he and Richard the foils for Jeremy's lunatic, petrol-fuelled ideas.
Could he really fool himself into thinking that tonight was just an extension of that?
He
rolled onto his back and dropped his head to the pillow, gazing at the
grey dark of the ceiling before glancing back. Jeremy was still
watching him steadily, maybe waiting for a reaction, maybe not.
"And what now?" James asked. "Now that you've stolen this thing you can't have?"
The smile faded. "In the morning, I have to give it back."
~
Morning came.
That
his two companions had managed to get out of bed, that Jeremy at least
had showered and dressed in the room - possibly with Richard keeping
him company - without waking him, didn't surprise James in the least.
He
found them in the otherwise deserted dining room, standing at the
window overlooking the sleepy town. They were standing close, Richard
nursing a mug of coffee in one hand, Jeremy behind him, one hand on the
wall, the other... James was almost beside them before he could see
Jeremy's free hand linked with Richard's in a loose embrace.
They weren't speaking, and as soon as James moved to stand beside them they let go.
Anything
they might have found to say to each other was lost as the two young
waitresses from the previous night brought their continental breakfasts
to the table. No candles now, no wine to ease the considerable tension.
Just the chilly light from the tall windows and the steaming heat of
the never-ending supply of rich, dark coffee.
James finally
cornered Richard alone outside as Jeremy paid the bill before the taxi
took them to the airport. The German technician had already left with
the triumphant car Jeremy had driven here. He didn't have long before
real life broken through the faux barriers their imaginations had built
up around them. Maybe time for one question. And it sounded rubbish
even to his own ears.
"Are we okay?"
Richard looked up at
him and there was something more natural, less forced than usual about
his easy grin; there was real happiness behind it. He nodded. "We're
good," he told James. "Better than good." And for a mad moment James
thought Richard was going to rise on tip-toe to kiss him.
But he
didn't. Instead he turned, and the illusional walls between them and
the rest of the world started to crumble soundlessly as he called
across to Jeremy to ask if everything was settled.
"They wanted
to charge us extra for parking the car in the underground garage," he
told them, approaching as he carefully read the receipt in his hands.
"Cheek of it!" Richard lowered his voice. "In fact, they should have knocked some money off seeing as we only used one room."
Jeremy grinned at him. "Not that we'd want to explain that to the producer."
"Er, no. What time's the flight?"
"Eleven. We need to get going."
The walls collapsed.