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‘Coming out’, Jeremy thought with a sneer, wasn’t something they had really spoken about doing. It just seemed to be a mutual agreement to keep this all to themselves so they wouldn’t have to deal with what they were going through now. Jeremy had just hung up with Andy. He’d have to be the one to break the news that filming has been postponed, pending Andy’s own internal investigation as to who had leaked to the press. Jeremy knew the BBC wanted to wait and see what the media would turn this into.
The reveal had definitely been a shock to them. It was easy to lose track of the outside world when you spent the day filming. Apparently, they had failed to turn their mobiles back on. It was when they had been walking back to the set, after grabbing some late lunch, and an already irate Richard had been walking a few feet ahead that some paparazzi had appeared. They seemed to all be speaking at once, but the topic of them was quickly realized. Thank James for his quick thinking to jog the few feet separating him from Richard, and grabbing the smaller man’s fist before he could do what he clearly wanted to do.
But, that only seemed to make the chatter grow louder, then the cameras started flashing, and poor James seemed frozen holding onto Richard’s hand. Acting fast, Jeremy put a hand on either man’s back, attempting to nudge them on their way. When he felt how rigid both men were, Jeremy felt his tiny reserve of patience starting to wear out. The flash that hit him in the eyes really didn’t help matters. Miraculously, Jeremy got them all moving with only one mishap when a photographer accidentally stepped on Richard’s foot, but Richard looked like he was physically biting his tongue the entire way back.
They were sent home almost as soon as they arrived back on set. All further shoots were postponed indefinitely. Unspokenly, they all congregated at James’s. Richard refused James’s offer to take a look at his foot, and immediately went for a shower. Jeremy had been on his mobile with numerous people since they had been dismissed, continuing his rather heated conversations in the bedroom, the door firmly shut. James made tea.
It was familiar and soothing, and loads better than shouting into a telephone or silently stewing in the shower. ‘Or not so silently,’ James thought as he waited for the kettle to sound as he heard some angry shouting coming from the bathroom that was quite clearly Richard. This was clearly the better outlet, with the better end result. That being a nice, hot cup that he could hold to try to stop his hands from shaking. For these few minutes, he could just not think about what has happened.
By the time he had three cups steeping, the sound of the television turning on could be heard. James wondered, briefly which one of the other men had finally made their way out of their chosen sanctuaries. Then, there was quite a load crash.
“For fuck’s sake!”
James didn’t have to wonder much longer, and started fixing the tea accordingly. He grabbed two of the mugs, and followed the sound of destruction.
The scene he walked in on was a bit heartbreaking, and James couldn’t deny his anger towards the people from earlier any longer. Richard was kneeling on the floor, in a t-shirt and pants, righting the overturned coffee table. Glancing over towards the the TV, he could see what had further upset him. It was them, from earlier today. They had made the news. If he hadn’t been there to learn what had happened today, it still wouldn’t have taken him long to realize what the subject was with a caption like ‘Top Queer?’ James saw Richards hands shake as he picked up a few pens and a spanner, putting them back into the drawer. As the mugs of tea made it to the newly righted table, Richard was finishing up gathering the outdated issues of AutoTrader. When Richard’s hand came within reach, James grabbed hold of it, and pulled the man to sit on the couch.
“...from an anonymous tipster. The BBC have yet to comment…”
James watched Richard’s face and the tightness to it. “Why don’t we just switch this back off?”
Richard’s jaw twitched, and when he replied, his cheeks seemed to turn a light red, “I’ve chucked it someplace. I’m sorry, James, I’m afraid I might have smashed it...and dented your wall, probably...and chipped your table...”
“Nevermind that,” James said as evenly as he could, feeling not so much irritated with Richard losing his temper and more so with the fuckwits who had caused him to. Handing over the still, thankfully, hot mug, James caught sight of the great, purpling bruise on Richard’s foot. “Come on. Legs up. I won’t take ‘no’ for an answer this time, I’m afraid.”
Slowly, with mug in hand, Richard maneuvered himself to sit with his feet now resting on James’s lap. When James applied some pressure onto the dark spot on the top of Richard’s foot, Richard let out a hiss of pain, nearly kicking James in a rather unpleasant region. “Well, nothing feels unusual in there.”
“To you, maybe. Feels like my foot should be amputated.”
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Jeremy doesn’t know how long he had been staring at his mobile. He feels like he does after Richard has coerced him into going hiking with talk of ‘how beautiful nature is’, and ‘how romantic it’ll be’. It always leaves him exhausted, and far too sore for anything to turn quite as romantic as promised. But, instead of the ache of muscle fatigue, Jeremy could feel a headache starting to pulse at his temple.
Its about this time, that Jeremy could no longer focus on the whirlwind of terrible events when he realises the distinct lack of noise coming from any other part of the apartment. This most definitely did not cause any sense of worry. Absolutely not. Jeremy Clarkson was not an insecure man, and he most certainly was not thinking up multiple scenarios involving the other two men having left while he locked himself in James’s bedroom like a teen. Its the thought of this being the thing that would break them when they’ve had all this time keeping this for themselves that really gets him angry. Why should they let other people, who had no right to be poking around in their business, ruin it?
Jeremy made his way through the bedroom door. What he really wanted was to race through the place, he didn’t know what he would do should the flat be empty, and Jeremy found himself being uncharacteristically hesitant. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling that he was accustomed to, being unsure of himself.
There was a light on down the short hall, and Jeremy felt his apprehension slowly start to dissipate as he followed it. There was a curious dent in the wall by the opening to the other room. Jeremy moved towards it to further inspect, and heard a sharp crack as he stepped onto something plastic.
‘How could I have not heard something like that?’ Jeremy thought, as he picked up the various pieces of hard plastic and circuitry. ‘James must be quite livid...if he isn’t already from all this.’
The first thing Jeremy noticed was that the television wasn’t just off. It was unplugged. Richard tended to leave it going when he was home, because he couldn’t stand sitting in silence. James could never find the button on the set to turn it off or on. The second thing that drew his eye was how nicked up and splintered one end of the coffee table appeared to be now. And, were those a set of James’s car keys laying under the end table?
Then, there they were. Of course they were there. Jeremy had sort of seen that at least someone was there out of the corner of his eye when he had walked in, but there they both lay on the couch. James, on his back, with his earphones leading from the phone he was scrolling through single handedly, meaning only that he was listening to something soothing neither Richard nor himself would stand to listen to.
Richard was doing something he didn’t get to indulge in quite often. He was clinging. Draped across James’s chest, and half squashed into the back of the couch, Richard had his arm hooked under the other man’s shoulder. Though Jeremy could see that Richard’s eyes were closed, his body relaxed, the slow caressing of his fingers to James’s shoulder gave away Richard’s wakefulness. Things must have gotten bad when he made his disappearance, for James to be allowing such a thing that they all knew James was not overly fond of. Nonetheless, James had his unused hand drumming rhythmically on Richard’s back.
Turning into the kitchen, Jeremy placed the remains of the remote control onto the kitchen table. He took a sip of the mug of tea sitting on the counter, spat it out in the sink, then got himself a glass of water and something to take care of the dull pain in his head. Grabbing three beers, Jeremy finally made his way to the two men he now realizes he hadn’t really spoken to since lunch.
The sound of the bottles clinking as they were set onto the abused coffee table startled Richard from his light doze. Upon seeing Jeremy sitting on the floor with his side against the sofa, Richard pulled his arm out from under James’s, and placed his hand on the back of Jeremy’s neck. The soft, lazy caress leaving him momentarily lost for words.
“Alright, then, Jezza?”
Catching James’s gaze, Jeremy leaned his elbow on the edge of the couch, and patted James’s bicep. “Couldn’t get much information from anyone on the phone, apart from Andy, who is pretty sure someone on the crew had been the one to go to alert the paps.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Fine,” Jeremy sighed. “I’ve run out of things to yell at people for at the moment.” The hand on his neck began to lazily play with his shirt collar. Jeremy watched the odd expression on Richard’s face for a few seconds. “How’s the foot?”
Hissing when he flexed it, Richard slid his hand along Jeremy’s shoulder, and rested it on James’s chest. “Well, I can still feel it, so it must still be there.”
They dissolve back into silence again. The only break being the sound of Jeremy opening one of the beers, and taking a few long sips from the bottle. James makes a strange, quizzical noise, and a few exaggerated scrolls on his mobile screen with his thumb, missing the puzzled looks he’s receiving from both men. “Slow?”
“Just,” James starts out slowly. “Have you been on Twitter at all tonight?”
Jeremy takes his phone out of his pocket, curiously opening the app. The large amount of notifications isn’t something new to any of them. What is strange is the genuine support of the people tweeting at them. He’s become accustomed to the ignorant dribble that comes through pretty much daily, and there certainly was a few negative statements. One, especially, from one Piers Morgan, demanding a response from Jeremy himself. That would never change. The fans that were expressing their congratulations was really the most moving thing he had ever seen.
Turning to his other side, Jeremy held his phone out for Richard to take a look. The smaller man remained silent for quite a while, before he finally handed the phone back. His expression could only be described as one of complete awe. “That is incredible.”
Jeremy turned back to his notifications, retweeting some of the ones pointing out things about invasion of privacy, and how excited the Faily Mail must be to have a day or two of legit Clarkson material to work with. Glancing over his shoulder, Jeremy took in the sight of the two men sharing James’s phone. Reading through probably the same, or similar, posts. He quickly turned on the camera on his phone, and took a picture of himself with James and Richard behind him, their faces illuminated by the light of the mobile.
It wasn’t long before the picture found its way onto the internet. He didn’t have much time to think about anything such as consequences to his actions. It certainly didn’t take much longer before Jeremy heard the distinct chirping coming from the mobile behind him.
“Jeremy, you didn’t.”
“Ouch!” Jeremy rubbed at the now sore spot on his arm.
“You could have given us some warning before you went and did something like that, you arse!”
“No, look,”James held his mobile in front of Richard’s face once more. “Everyone’s started in on Morgan now. Essentially, all calling him an insensitive bastard.”
“Well, he is,” Huffed Jeremy.
Richard climbed over James, awkwardly, to give Jeremy a quick kiss, and a hug, which was probably uncomfortable for James having to take the majority of Richard’s weight on his lower abdomen. “I really do love you, even if you do act like a great ape sometimes.”
As he wound his arms around the slighter man, Jeremy thought, ‘Suppose things’ll actually be alright, then.’
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@JeremyClarkson
The boys and I couldn’t quite care less about the inane bumblings of @piersmorgan pic.twitter.com/erEnaiOsCA…
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@RichardHammond
Thank you for the supportive responses to all this. Here’s a bruise I left on @JeremyClarkson after he was a massive c pic.twitter.com/fzDiuoBxMN…
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@MrJamesMay
@RichardHammond speaking of bruises...foot...pic.twitter.com/hmSdkjGoTC