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When James wakes, Jeremy’s side of the bed is empty. He yawns as he stretches out his limbs. The cracking and creaking his bones make almost deafen him; he definitely isn’t getting any younger. His hand runs along Jeremy’s side of the bed and finds the sheets still warm to the touch. He hasn’t been alone for long.
Opening his ears, he listens for a moment: hears the water running downstairs. Could be the kitchen sink, could be the downstairs shower. But when he hears the clanking of a pan being dropped out of a cabinet and the faint cursing of Jeremy swearing to himself, he knows for a fact that it’s the kitchen sink running. Jeremy in a kitchen alone never ends well for either the kitchen or the man himself.
He should head downstairs and stop the destruction before it begins, but he doesn’t want to leave the warmth of their bed just yet. A quick glance at the alarm clock on his bedside table tells him it’s almost 7:30 in the morning. Jez is up earlier than normal and he’s not exactly sure why.
All he knows is that he’s absolutely craving a cup of tea. But the warmth of their bed is too inviting to leave. He attempts to escape the duvet, but as soon of a sliver of skin is exposed to the cool morning air, all thoughts of leaving the room are gone.
He looks over to Jeremy’s bedside table and sees his iPhone isn’t there. He could simply call him and ask nicely if he could bring up a cup of tea.
But that would be too easy.
He sits up in bed, adjusting the pillows behind his back, and grabs his iPad from his bedside table. Might as well have a little fun.
A few swipes and taps and he has Twitter open. He thinks for a few moments before composing what he thinks is the perfect way to get Jeremy’s attention.
I used to crave the unqualified love of strange women, without realising that my secret hope was that they'd bring me a cup of tea in bed.
A minute passes before he hears the faint chirp of Jeremy’s text message alert downstairs. He smiles to himself; he still cannot believe that Jez set up alerts for his tweets. He wonders if he even knew how to set up the feature. James imagines Jeremy with his reading glasses on the tip of his nose, threatening to fall off at any second, jabbing his finger at buttons and googling for answers.
He waits. He knows he has Jeremy in the palm of his hand. He can see it in his mind: Jeremy’s facial expression as he reads the tweet, his eyes rolling before he fills the kettle with water, sets it on the base, and flicks on the switch.
He checks his email, sends off a few ideas for the next series of Man Lab to Will and Sim, and opens up one of the crossword puzzle apps. He’s just solved 4 down when Jeremy walks in with a mug in each hand.
“So you’re only sleeping with me for the tea?”
“Oh, shut up, you pillock, and hand it over.”
Jeremy’s bottom lip protrudes in one of his signature pouts as James takes the mug out of his hand.
James rolls his eyes as he takes a tentative sip, not wanting to burn his tongue. He’s surprised as the hot liquid rolls down his throat – it’s actually close to being a perfect cup of tea. A smile spreads across his face as he sets the mug on his bedside table before he clicks the button to wake up his iPad. He opens Twitter again as Jeremy slides into bed next to him.
It’s an especially tasty cuppa, this one. I must have been good.
He sends the tweet off into cyberspace before trading the iPad for his mug. Another sip before vibrations through the sheets make him jump.
“What the –”
And then he sees Jeremy reach underneath the sheets and grab his mobile from the pocket of his pyjama pants. His eyes scan the screen and a smile spreads across his face.
“So, I did well enough to please the tea connoisseur?”
“I guess you could say that.”
“You won’t be sleeping with any strange women then for a cup of tea, then?”
James waits for a moment, takes another sip of tea, and then strokes the stubble on his chin as if in a thinking pose.
“I think that can be arranged, Clarkson, as long as you keep making me tea.”
“Deal,” Jeremy replies.
“Now, where’s my toast?”
Jeremy groans.