Archive of Our Own

The buzzer for Greg’s flat sounded and he had to pause to make it seem like he hadn’t been waiting at his intercom for the last quarter hour. “Yeah?” he said into the intercom, after he deemed an appropriate amount of time had passed.

Appropriate for whom, and why, was entirely up for debate, since Greg had been not-so-subtly tracking Alex via his thoughts from the moment he kissed his wife goodbye before leaving Chesham that afternoon, but he felt it was the polite thing to pretend that he hadn’t been. Even if, of course, Alex undoubtedly knew as well.

It was a strange charade, this, but Alex was at his door and they had the whole weekend together, and Greg wasn’t keen on interrogating anything too closely just yet. 

“It’s Alex,” Alex said, and Greg grinned.

“Come on up,” he said, pushing the button to buzz him in.

A few moments later, there was a somewhat muffled knock on his door, and he opened it to reveal Alex struggling to knock while juggling two loaded bags of takeaway and an overnight bag of his own. “Hi,” Alex said, a little breathlessly, with that gap-toothed grin that made Greg feel like he’d been the one who just took the steps two at a time while bearing half his body weight in Indian food. “I come bearing food.”

An unnecessary statement on multiple levels, but Greg just grinned at him. “Key to every man’s heart, that,” he said, leaning in to relieve Alex of one of the bags while kissing him on the cheek at the same time. 

“Thankfully the only man’s heart I care about is yours,” Alex said, toeing off his shoes and dumping his overnight bag before following Greg into the kitchen.

“And thankfully you never needed a key to that, did you,” Greg said over his shoulder, setting his bag down on the table next to the beers he’d already grabbed from the refrigerator and turning to take the other from Alex.

He started opening the bags and pulling out containers, and while he’d been the one who had placed the order for Alex to pick up on his way, he was still impressed by the sheer quantity of food they’d gotten, just as he was undoubtedly going to be impressed, concerned, and probably a little turned on by the quantity of food they were likely to consume between the two of them.

Alex bounced almost nervously on the balls of his feet, pulling the cuffs of his jumper down over his hands. “Rachel says hello,” he offered as Greg turned to the cupboard to grab cutlery. 

“And I say hello back,” Greg said. “Be sure to thank her for letting me borrow you for the weekend.”

He knew even without turning back that Alex pulled a face at that. “Not certain that’s how I’d put it.”

“How would you put it, then?” Greg asked, handing a fork to Alex and gesturing for him to sit.

Alex sat automatically, his nose still scrunched with a frown. “Dunno,” he said, pulling the closest container to him and opening it. “Just don’t like the thought of you needing my wife’s permission.”

Greg raised both eyebrows as he sat down next to Alex. “Don’t I?” he asked mildly as he grabbed a different container.

Alex’s brow knit together as he chewed. “I think at the end of the day the only person whose permission you need is me.”

“Maybe,” Greg allowed. “But I think we both know this will go better for all parties involved with Rachel’s permission.”

“Fair enough.”

Silence fell between them for a long moment as both men tucked in, the kind of silence that should have been comfortable, given how many times they’d done this before, but there was an undercurrent now that prickled uncomfortably under Greg’s skin. After a few minutes, he sat back, watching with bemusement as Alex, like always, shovelled food in his mouth like he was starving. When he paused to breathe, or at least to take a swig of beer, Greg said, “So.”

“So,” Alex echoed, not quite meeting his eyes.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Greg prompted when Alex made no further addition.

Alex wrinkled his nose as he swallowed another mouthful. “That I should have gone with the chicken korma, mostly.”

Greg rolled his eyes. “Fuck’s sake, have some of mine—”

“No, it’s fine, really,” Alex assured him.

Greg just gave him a look. “Alex, eat the fucking chicken,” he ordered. “We ordered enough food to feed a small army.”

“Or two very large boys,” Alex quipped, taking the carton from Greg and resuming his speed-eating.

Shaking his head, Greg grabbed the lamb vindaloo before thinking better of it and picking up a poppadom instead. “That’s what I’ll do on my nights with you,” he said, pointing the poppadom at Alex, “fatten you up so I don’t look so massive in comparison.”

Though Alex laughed, he also pulled a face again as he chewed. “Don’t like when you call them your nights with me,” he said finally. “Makes me feel like a kid being shuttled between two divorced parents.”

Greg nodded slowly. “Sure, but the important thing is that your mother and I still love you very much—”

“Stop,” Alex said, laughing again, but a real laugh this time, the honking kind that had the corners of his eyes crinkling in the way that Greg loved.

Greg took the container of butter chicken and managed a few bites before asking, “So now that the chicken’s sorted, what are you thinking?”

Alex swallowed, all the laughter disappearing from his face, leaving only something like worry etched in the lines that furrowed his brow. “I have a legal and ethical obligation to disclose a personal relationship with a subordinate,” he said, and Greg blinked.

That was not what he’d been expecting, by a long shot.

“Sounds like someone’s been re-reading his contract,” he said, mostly to buy himself time to try to come up with some kind of actual response. He’d spent most of his time leading up to this weekend preparing for the inevitable and expected continued conversations about Rachel, and Alex’s marriage, and how they were going to actually make this work.

Work itself hadn’t even crossed his mind.

Alex glanced up at him, frowning. “Of course I did,” he said, as if it was obvious, which really only served to underscore the differences between them, Greg supposed. “As soon as all this started.” He shrugged, picking up his fork again, though he made no attempt to actually take another bite of food. “But I wanted to get things somewhat worked out between us before worrying too much about that side of things.”

As much as Greg wanted to query whether Alex felt that things were, in fact, worked out between them, he couldn’t help but ask, “That side being…?”

“The chances, however slim, of me getting fired from my own television programme because of sexual harassment, mostly.”

Greg only just managed not to laugh, and only because Alex sounded about as serious as Greg had ever heard him. But the very idea was absurd, that somehow, Alex would think… “You don’t honestly think that I—”

Alex glanced at him, then away again. “No, I don’t.”

Because that was particularly convincing. “I mean, fuck’s sake, mate, if anyone’s been doing any incidental harassment for the past nine plus years, it’s me.”

He said it firmly, like it should be the end of the conversation, mainly because, as far as he was concerned, it was. But Alex just shook his head slowly. “Bit different the other way around, though,” he said, grabbing a poppadom and snapping it in half.

Greg frowned at him. “How so?”

Alex jerked a shrug, continuing to break off bits of poppadom with his long, nervous fingers. “Well, you can’t have me thrown off set whenever we have a disagreement,” he said.

“And you could?”

Another shrug, more bits of poppadom broken off into a pile on the table. “Technically.”

Greg reached out to cover Alex’s hands with one of his own, the vast size difference making his point more succinctly than anything he could’ve said. “Mate.”

Alex glanced down at Greg’s hand and then up at him, half-smiling. “I didn’t mean physically,” he said, though his amusement was short-lived. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I could.” He managed another small smile, though this one didn't quite feel as sincere. “And if you follow through on your plan to fatten me up, I very well may be able to physically as well.”

It was easier for Greg to make a joke about the latter comment, so he did. “I put it to you,” he said, snagging a piece of chicken from Alex’s korma, “that since your small child almost snapped your ankle recently, I think I’ll take my chances.”

“My small child is eleven years old,” Alex reminded him, retaliating by spearing a bite of Greg’s tikka masala with his fork.

Greg pulled a face. “Christ, don’t tell me that,” he mumbled around his food. “That just makes me feel old.”

“How d’you think I feel,” Alex muttered.

Greg swallowed and looked at Alex closely before telling him, sincerely, “For what it’s worth, it’s never crossed my mind that you would ever, in any capacity, under any circumstances, abuse your authority on the show.” He paused to ensure his words had sunk in before adding, “And not just because I could sit on you and squash you into jelly if you tried.”

Alex pulled a face, though he also looked slightly mollified. “Thank you, I think.”

Greg hesitated before adding, “And I hope you know that if you ever, and I mean ever, told me that you were done, or couldn’t do this or—”

Alex cut him off, something uncharacteristically sharp in his tone as he told Greg, “Yes, you’ve certainly demonstrated your willingness to retreat several times over.” He gave Greg a pointed look. “With less than impressive results, I might add.”

It was Greg’s turn to pull a face. “Fine, but this time I’d go far enough away where I wouldn’t hurt anyone,” he said stubbornly.

“I doubt Rhod would let you get that far.”

Greg shrugged. “If he knew I was doing it to avoid hurting you, he might.”

“Hm,” Alex hummed in that infuriatingly noncommittal way that he had, the one that told Greg he wasn’t remotely convinced but also wasn’t inclined to argue further.

Usually, that only made Greg want to dig in his heels and argue more, but he sensed that on this matter in particular, it was better to at least temporarily drop it. Instead, he picked up a different, no less fraught thread. “Right, so per the terms of your contract, and I assume mine, though it’s not like I’ve ever read it that closely, who are we required to disclose a ‘personal relationship’ to?”

“To whom are we required to disclose a personal relationship,” Alex corrected, seemingly automatically, and Greg rolled his eyes, though he felt a brief flare of affection.

Alex was such a fucking dweeb, but at least he was Greg’s dweeb. As they were about to disclose to the Powers That Be.

“Fuck off,” he said good-naturedly, and Alex managed a slightly wan smile.

“Well, we’re required to disclose to Avalon, for starters,” he told Greg, setting his fork down as if he was finally done eating. “And Channel 4. And I wouldn’t feel– if we’re already disclosing it to the studio, we may as well disclose it to the Andys.”

Greg nodded slowly. “They’d probably put it together on their own if we didn’t,” he pointed out.

Alex pulled a face. “True, but I wouldn’t want us to make them uncomfortable in the interim.”

“Fair play,” Greg said, gathering the containers together to put in the refrigerator for later. “Anyone else?”

Something tightened in Alex’s face, and he must really have been distracted by whatever thought he didn’t want to share because he didn’t even ask Greg if he could help. “That’s so many people already,” he said finally.

“I know,” Greg said with a sigh. He took a deep breath before adding bracingly, “But I doubt any of them are going to leak it to the press.”

Alex looked up at him, his brow furrowed. “Is that what you’re worried about?”

It wasn’t, and judging by Alex’s tone, Greg had been wrong in assuming it was what Alex was worried about. “Not for myself,” he said truthfully. “But things are more complicated for you…”

An understatement if ever he’d heard it, and Alex frowned. “Don’t you start worrying about complicating things for me again,” he said warningly.

Greg scowled. “I wasn’t going to.”

Alex didn’t remotely look like he believed him. “Mm.”

“I wasn’t!” Greg repeated, which wasn’t a full lie, mainly because he’d never stopped worrying about that in the first place. “Besides, categorical denial has worked for us all these years and I don’t see that stopping now.”

“Categorical denial tends to work better when what you’re denying isn’t the truth,” Alex pointed out.

Greg managed something like a smile. “Dunno, I seem to have been pretty convincing all those years of people asking if I was secretly in love with you.”

It had its desired effect, as Alex laughed lightly. “Maybe not that convincing, if they kept asking.”

Greg’s eyes narrowed. “Right, because you writing increasingly kinky shit into our hit telly programme had nothing to do with that.”

“Can’t see why it would,” Alex said innocently, and this time, when Greg stood to grab their plates and forks, he stood as well, carrying their empty beer bottles to the sink. Greg reached automatically for two more from the refrigerator and Alex accepted one of them with a grateful smile, taking a swig before asking, “Is there anyone you need to tell?”

“I’d like to tell my mum,” Greg said with a slight wince, because comparatively, it sounded rather minor in the grand scheme of things. “She’s known that it’s you, of course, but she’d sleep better at night knowing we’ve worked something out.”

“Of course,” Alex said immediately.

Greg led the way to the sofa, telling Alex over his shoulder, “Which does mean she’ll be inviting you ‘round for tea sometime soon.”

He plopped down, expecting Alex to follow and glanced up when he didn’t, he frowned at Alex, who had stopped suddenly, an odd look on his face. “Oh.”

“What?” Greg asked.

Alex shook his head. “I didn’t think about the fact that I’d be getting another mother-in-law out of this,” he said, his brow furrowed. “You’ll have to let me know when her birthday is. We’re past Mother’s Day but we’ll have to work something out for Christmas between Rachel’s parents and mine and your mum…”

Warmth spread across Greg’s chest, and he shook his head slowly. “You are fascinating sometimes,” he said, with immeasurable fondness.

Alex blinked at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Greg said, grinning, “I could literally see you reorganise your diary in your head just then.”

Alex flushed. “Is that a bad thing?”

Greg shook his head. “No.” He looked up at him, his grin sharpening. “Does make me want to kiss you, though.”

He had meant to say it innocently, off-handedly, even, but it came out low and lascivious, and Alex’s flush darkened even as his own grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Oh. Well,” he said, managing the innocent tone Greg’d been aiming for. “If you must.”

“I really must,” Greg said, grinning as he reached out to snag Alex’s wrist, tugging him close enough that he could stretch up and kiss him when he bent to meet him halfway.

Alex returned the kiss with enthusiasm, and both men were grinning when they broke apart. “Anyone besides your mum?” Alex asked, just a little breathlessly, as he sank down onto the sofa next to him, and it took Greg a moment to remember what Alex was on about.

He shook his head. “Beyond my mum, on my end of things, I don’t imagine my day to day life changing enough to merit telling anyone else.” His delight at getting to kiss Alex again dissipated rather abruptly, like a balloon popping. “Whereas you…”

Alex’s smile faded, just slightly. “Whereas I what?”

“You’re already stretched quite thin,” Greg pointed out, tapping his fingers against his knee. “And now I imagine I’ll end up monopolising what little spare time you have left.”

Alex reached out to cover Greg’s hand with his own until it stilled. “You say that as if it’s a bad thing.”

Greg’s lips twitched but he didn’t quite smile. “Well. We can drill into that later.” He sighed and shook his head. “But my point is, between your band, your friends and your other projects, someone might want to know where you’re sneaking off to.”

“I won’t be sneaking,” Alex said, and Greg rolled his eyes, certain Alex was planning on making another pedantic grammatical remark about his word choice.

“Right, but—”

“I mean it,” Alex said, too sharp to be pedantic, and Greg glanced at him, startled. “I don’t have to come out and tell them, but if anyone asks me, I’m not going to lie.”

Greg’s mouth opened and closed before he managed, a little incredulously, “Oh, you’re going to explain that you’re seeing someone on the side who turns into a bear every full moon, are you?”

“Not just the full moon,” Alex said, finally with the pedant comment, even if it hadn’t been what Greg had expected. “And I’m not seeing you on the side. We’re together.” He hesitated, searching Greg’s expression before adding, “Aren’t we?”

Greg swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. “I– that’s really up to you, I think.”

Whatever answer Alex had been searching for, it clearly wasn’t that, judging by the way his brow knit together. “Why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

For once, Greg wasn’t being purposefully thick, though Alex didn’t seem convinced otherwise. “Defer to me on this,” he said. “Either we’re in this together or we’re not, simple as that.”

Greg took a moment to answer, not wanting to say the wrong thing. “I defer to you because being with you is everything I’ve ever wanted,” he said finally. “And so I’ll make anything work, so long as I still get at least a part of you.” He shrugged as if unconcerned. “The rest is up to you and what you want.”

Somehow, that answer seemed to set Alex more on edge rather than reassure him as Greg had intended. Alex fiddled with the label on his beer bottle for a moment more before asking, “Does that include, erm, sexually?”

“Of course, yes,” Greg said, immediately and without hesitation. Which would also have been his answer even without the shifter thing, and he hoped that Alex knew that as well.

Alex shifted uncomfortably, and not in the usual way where his discomfort was both the point and the joke all at the same time. “You’d make it work if I never wanted to, er, to have sex with you?”

Well, that was a question whose answer would probably differ without the shifter thing. Greg made a lot of jokes about being too old and too tired for sex, but he wasn’t dead (yet) and he did still quite enjoy having sex on the rare occasions when he let himself.

But at the end of the day, the shifter thing rendered any other answer irrelevant. “I haven’t got a choice,” he told Alex honestly. “I don’t want a choice either, for that matter, but for me, this is it. It’s you, for the rest of my life, or at the very least the rest of yours. I’m assuming I’ll die first, given everything, but stranger things have happened.”

“Can we not joke about death right now?” Alex said, and Greg sighed.

“Sorry,” he said, squeezing Alex’s arm gently. “But I do mean it. If you never want to do anything more than snog like teenagers, I will make that work.”

He knocked his shoulder against Alex’s and Alex managed a small, slightly strained smile. Alex worried his lower lip between his teeth before asking, even more hesitantly, “And if I want to do more than snog like teenagers?”

“I will gladly make that work as well,” Greg said, hoping against hope that he sounded casual and not nearly as eager as he felt. He hesitated, glancing sideways at Alex, trying desperately not to read too much into the way Alex fiddled with the cuffs of his jumper. “Do you want to do more than snog like teenagers?”

Alex looked almost startled by the question. “Oh. Er. Maybe?” He glanced at Greg and away again, clearing his throat before asking, “What, er, what would you want to do that’s more than snogging?”

All things considered, it wasn’t the smartest thing Alex had ever asked, and Greg gave him a look equal parts amused and pitying. “Whatever you want,” he said, equally patient and condescending.

Alex huffed a sigh and managed a small but genuine smile. “I suppose I should have expected that,” he said, a little wryly.

As much as Greg was tempted to tease him further, his own curiosity needed sating first. “Have you ever done anything with a man?” he asked, figuring it would be helpful for both of them to have some kind of baseline understanding of what was familiar territory and what wasn’t.

“I went to an all-boys school,” Alex said dryly, as if that answered the question, which, Greg supposed, it did to an extent. Alex scratched the side of his neck before adding, pitching it more as a question than anything, “So, er, technically yes?” He winced and looked away. “But it– it wasn’t exactly, er, the same.”

“Wanking off your mates in a strictly heterosexual way?” Greg guessed, trying not to let any bitterness from his own youth colour his question.

Judging by the way Alex glanced at him, he hadn’t quite succeeded. “Well, that and, er, I was never the one doing the, er, the wanking.” Alex flushed and looked away. “Or, erm, anything else.”

“Ah.”

He hadn’t meant it to sound dismissive, but, well, tale as old as time, wasn’t it? Still, Alex’s flush darkened and he hurried to add, “It’s just—”

But he broke off, clearly unable or unwilling to say the rest, and Greg nodded his understanding before supplying, “Getting your dick sucked by one of your mates doesn’t make you a poof but sucking your mate’s dick does?”

Alex’s eyes flashed to his, something hard in his expression, and Greg just looked evenly at him. After a brief moment, Alex looked away. “Something like that, I suppose,” he muttered.

“Right,” Greg said, ready to move on. He’d gotten enough of an answer and frankly, he’d rather not spend his entire weekend with Alex down memory lane, especially not when it came to these memories.

But then Alex looked back at him, something steely in his eyes. “At least that’s what I thought when I was 16.”

Despite himself, Greg hesitated, searching his expression before prompting, “And now?”

Alex took a deep breath. “And now I’m about to disclose to a variety of television executives who more or less control the future of my career that I am a poof, so in for a penny, in for a pound, I think.”

Despite how serious the moment was, Greg immediately barked a laugh, drawing a startled look from Alex. “Sorry, just– in for a pound.”

“Oh, Christ,” Alex said, eyes widening when he realised his accidental innuendo and he covered his face with both hands, but he was laughing, too.

Their shared laughter broke the tension the way nothing else possibly could, and when Alex lowered his hands from his face, he looked much more relaxed than before, even as he glanced up at Greg and asked, “So, er, if we did do more than snogging, would you, er, want to be doing the pounding, or, erm…”

Despite the teasing way Alex phrased it, Greg knew that he was asking in earnest, and despite his every instinct telling him to make a joke of it, he answered in kind. “However you’d prefer.”

Simple, and honest, and judging by the look on Alex’s face, not what he’d been hoping to hear. “That’s…not really an answer.”

Greg just shrugged. “Well it’s the only answer you’re going to get,” he told him. “I want to do whatever you’d prefer, however you’d prefer to.”

Alex scrunched his nose, frowning. “Oh. Hm.”

“Problem?” Greg asked, arching an eyebrow.

Alex flushed again, but it was more of his usual embarrassed blush than the dark flush of before. “Only, er, normally in a– a relationship, I like to do whatever, er, would make the other person happy,” he mumbled before glancing up at Greg again and amending, “Would make you happy.”

Greg grinned, sorely tempted to tease that line of thought as far as it would go, but just like he knew Alex would never take advantage of the fact that Greg would do absolutely anything he asked him to, he owed Alex the same acknowledgment. “And my entire purpose in life is to make you happy,” he reminded him.

A small half-smile lifted the corner of Alex’s mouth before he said, with mostly faux exasperation, “This could go on for ages, you realise.”

“Yeah, nature really had a fucking field day with this,” Greg said cheerfully, and he reached for Alex’s hand and squeezed it before telling him, “The good news is, we don’t have to make a decision right now.”

Alex looked startled. “Oh, you weren’t planning on– tonight, I mean.”

Greg frowned at him. “Well, firstly, I may have been a shit teacher who thankfully very few students actually went to for advice, especially about relationships, but the one piece of advice I always passed on to them is that if you’re not ready to talk about it using actual words, you’re not ready to do it.”

Alex scowled. “I can talk about it,” he protested.

Greg arched an eyebrow. “Can you?”

Alex was silent for a moment before rubbing a finger against the side of his head the way he did when he was genuinely uncomfortable, screwing his entire face up, and solemnly pronouncing, “Anal sex.”

Greg couldn’t help it – he burst out laughing, though he quickly clapped a hand over his mouth. Alex’s scowl deepened and Greg hastily swallowed down the rest of his laughter, enough to manage, “Good boy,” before being consumed by giggles again.

Alex looked exasperated for a moment before he started laughing as well, real honking laughs that, between the two of them, shook the sofa in what would have been quite a concerning manner were Greg not otherwise occupied with trying and failing to control his laughter.

Finally, he managed to recover enough to wipe his eyes and grudgingly acknowledge, in between giggles, “All right, so you can say it.” He tried to give Alex a stern look, though he was certain he didn’t pull it off. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I know you’re probably only halfway through your mental checklist of things to discuss, and we won’t be doing anything until we’re finished with that, so at this rate, no, I’m certainly not planning on doing anything tonight.”

“I think we’re closer to two-thirds done,” Alex said, his own grin fading, just slightly. “Right, so, changing the subject, then…”

But he didn’t actually change the subject, didn’t say anything really, just trailing a finger through the condensation on the side of his beer bottle. Greg tracked the movement with his eyes, half-tempted to ask Alex if this was what he had in mind when he referred to working things out between them, this weird attempt at stumbling towards something resembling a future together.

Together, but also with Alex’s family, and that thought had something tightening in Greg’s stomach. “Are you going to tell your children?”

He didn’t mean to blurt it out like he did, and he certainly deserved the almost panicked look Alex gave him. “Oh, er…”

“I’m only asking because Rachel’s offered your in-law’s room for me to kip in when I need to be out by you,” Greg hurried to add, “and I’m not exactly an easy man to hide. Since I presume your children aren’t stupid…”

Alex’s lips twitched as if he was thinking of the obvious joke, but luckily for his children, he chose not to make it. “Thankfully, my boys are quite used to their father doing weird things with his comedy friends, and I don’t think they’ll either notice or care much. That said, I think it’s a case of crossing that bridge if we get to it.”

Greg nodded. “Fair play.”

As abrupt as the question had been, it also seemed to give Alex permission to carry on in that vein. “Speaking of the house,” he said, “Rachel gave me some requests. For house rules, so to speak.”

Greg’s eyes narrowed. “Go on, then.”

“Right, erm,” Alex said, fumbling in his pockets for his phone, swiping it open with one long finger and tapping something or other for the list. Watching him, Greg had the sudden urge to laugh, followed almost immediately by the urge to reach out to smooth the wrinkles from Alex’s forehead as he frowned down at his screen.

But then Alex glanced up at him and Greg swallowed both urges down. “Firstly,” Alex said, almost using his Assistant persona voice, and Greg would've taken the piss out of him for it if he didn't realise it was disguising the same nerves he could feel tightening his own stomach, “she’d like if you can give her as much advance notice as possible if you’ll be coming by so she can make sure we have enough food in the house.”

Greg gaped at him. That had not been what he was expecting by a long shot. “Christ, how much food does she think I put away?” he demanded, determined to make a joke before Alex could notice his surprise.

Alex’s eyes widened. “It’s not you,” he said hurriedly. “We have two teenagers and one almost teenager. It’s genuinely a miracle that there is anything edible in our house at any point in time.”

Greg snorted a laugh. “I’d say that explains why you eat the way you do, but I know for a fact that predates them.”

Alex frowned. “It’s just inefficient—”

“Do I have to let her know or can I let you know and you can tell her?” Greg asked over him, having heard Alex’s explanation for his bizarre eating habits before before and not caring to sit through it again.

Alex scowled at him but answered the question anyway. “She didn’t say but the first seems more polite.”

Greg nodded. “Then I will let her know directly to start.”

Alex looked back down at his phone, a blush again rising in his cheeks, and this time, he didn’t look up at Greg. “Right, secondly, no sex in the house or garage.”

Now that was more what Greg had expected. “I’m assuming that rule applies only to you and me,” he said, saccharine sweet, just to be a prick.

“Oh, er, she didn’t say,” Alex said, flustered. “I can ask her to clarify—”

“Mate,” Greg said patiently. “Come on.” Alex just shrugged and Greg gave him a look. “I think it’s pretty reasonable to expect that you’re allowed to sleep with your wife in your own home.”

Alex winced. “I mean, I’d certainly hope so,” he muttered in a way that told Greg he was still going to clarify with Rachel when he got home.

Greg rolled his eyes before pausing. “I’ll note she didn’t mention your shed though,” he said casually, and Alex’s eyes widened again.

“Oh. You’d, er, want to– in my, erm—”

“Just want to keep our options open,” Greg said with a smirk and was rewarded with an almost helpless laugh from Alex. “Clarify with her on the shed while you’re at it, will you?”

Alex just shook his head. “Right,” he huffed.

“You’d think she’d be better at closing loopholes, being married to you all these years,” Greg said.

“Mm,” Alex hummed noncommittally, looking pointedly back down at his phone. “Number three, we have a cleaner who comes once a week but she doesn’t do laundry or dishes, so if you can do your own laundry—”

Greg’s brow furrowed and he interrupted, “Just how long do you both think I’m going to be staying at yours at a stretch?”

Alex frowned up at him. “I don’t know,” he said. “I wasn’t sure how often you might need to, or for how long.”

There was something pointed in the way he said it, and Greg scowled and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Managed this long, haven’t I.”

“Are you counting those nights you spent sleeping as a bear in the woods?”

Oh, that was definitely pointed. Greg shrugged moodily. “I haven’t had to do that in awhile.”

Alex didn’t look remotely convinced. “No, you just inappropriately shifted and almost killed Rhod, so no issues there,” he said flatly.

Greg gave him a look. “Which you might remember was because I didn’t get to see you or talk to you.”

That was probably a low blow and Alex just looked flatly at him. “And you and I both know there will be times when I’m so busy that sleeping at mine is the only way you’ll get to see me.”

Which was undoubtedly true. Greg was busy too, of course, but he had the benefit of living by himself and not being responsible for juggling the equally busy lives of four other people as well. “Then when or if that happens, I will be sure to do my own laundry,” he said, almost conciliatory.

“Thank you,” Alex said. “Number four, no snogging in front of Rachel.”

That was more of what Greg had expected as well. “Did she define snogging?”

Alex nodded. “Kissing with tongue,” he reported.

“Christ,” Greg muttered, “you made her define it?”

Alex glanced up at him. “Yes,” he said, as if it was obvious.

To be fair, given that Alex was Alex, it probably was. “All right then,” Greg said, shaking his head.

“Number five,” Alex continued, “the boys take priority, always. As in drop everything and go home if they need me priority.”

“I’d never expect otherwise,” Greg assured him. “In fact, I’d insist on it.”

Alex gave him a small smile before looking back at his phone. “Number six, if I sleep in bed with you, I have to be up before the boys, for obvious reasons.”

Greg blinked, confused. “Right,” he said automatically. “I’m—”

“What?” Alex asked, frowning.

Greg shook his head again. “I wouldn’t think she’d let you sleep with me.”

Alex raised an eyebrow. “Shall I refer you to rule 2?”

Greg scowled. “You know what I mean.”

Alex just sighed. “Truth is, I don’t always sleep in bed with her now. Since she has to be up so early for work, if I’m up late for something, I’ll sleep on the couch or what have you to not wake her.” He gave Greg a look. “And of course there’s those nights when I wake up at 1 or 2 o’clock and can’t fall back to sleep.”

“Don’t know why you’re looking at me,” Greg huffed.

“Right, I’m certain your insomnia has nothing to do with it,” Alex said dryly.

Greg winced. “You really think it’s because of me?”

Alex considered it for a moment. “I didn’t use to,” he said finally. “But now that I know what it’s like having you in my head I do.”

“I feel like I should apologise—” Greg started, but Alex shook his head, something almost contemplative in his expression.

“No, it’s…” He shrugged. “I’ve obviously had some nights where I couldn’t sleep all of my own volition, and they always felt far lonelier than when I can’t sleep because of you.” He flushed again and Greg couldn’t resist leaning in to press a kiss to his temple. Alex cleared his throat. “Anyway, er, final one is a rule for me, not you.”

Greg frowned, mainly because Alex sounded suddenly unhappy. “Ok.”

Alex shook his head. “And I’ve already told her I don’t know if I can agree to it.”

Greg’s brow furrowed. “What—”

“She doesn’t want me to tell you I love you when she’s there.”

Greg blinked. “Right.”

Alex pulled a face. “I think she mostly doesn’t want to hear me say it. To you.”

“Doesn’t make it any less true,” Greg said, his voice low.

“I know.”

Greg sighed. “My point is, you don't have to—”

“But I want to,” Alex interrupted. “I’ve got nine years to make up for.” Greg’s hands twitched with how much he wanted to reach out for him, but he wasn’t sure that’d help matters. “Besides, she– it’s the last thing we have to work through. Getting her to believe that just because I love you doesn’t mean that I love her less.”

There was something stubborn in his tone, and Greg shook his head. “I imagine that’s something that will take time.”

Alex sighed. “Probably,” he agreed. “She said—”

He broke off and Greg glanced at him. “What?”

Alex sighed again. “She said that it’d be easier if it was an affair,” he said, digging his fingers into the fabric of the sofa. “If we were hiding it.”

Greg remembered that Rachel had said something similar to him, and he shrugged. “For her it probably would be.”

Alex’s frown deepened. “Would it?”

“Easier to pretend it’s only about sex, at least,” Greg said, a little roughly. “Easier to pretend that nothing’s changed.”

“Nothing has!” Alex protested, and Greg gave him a pointed look.

“Mate,” he said impatiently, but Alex shook his head, his expression mutinous. “Look, as the other party in all of this, I’m not sure I’m allowed to take her side, but Rachel’s the only one who’s losing something in this whole arrangement.”

“She’s not—” Alex started heatedly, but Greg cut him off.

“She is,” he said firmly, resting his hand on top of Alex’s. “I get to have a part of you, which is more than I could ever have hoped for. You get both of us. And she goes from having all of your heart to only part of it.” Something twisted in Alex’s expression but he didn’t deny it, and Greg squeezed his hand. “I wouldn’t want to have to hear a reminder of that, either.”

Alex shook his head once more. “I don’t love her any less,” he repeated, as if Greg was the one he needed to convince.

Greg just sighed and patted his hand. “And I imagine that’s something you can only get her to believe by showing her. And that means following this rule, at least for a while.” He tugged Alex close so that he could kiss his temple again. “You forget,” he murmured, his lips brushing against Alex’s still-flushed skin, “I’ve got a built in way to tell how much you love me. She doesn’t.” He kissed Alex once more before releasing him. “So at least to begin with, you’re going to have to go out of your way to prove it to her.”

Alex pulled a face like he didn’t quite agree. “We’ll see,” he said, leaning forward to set his phone down on the coffee table before settling back on the sofa and turning his face up toward Greg. “Do you have any rules or requests you’d like to discuss?”

“Oh, er…”

He honestly hadn’t given it any thought, and judging by the way Alex was looking expectantly at him, he really should’ve. He fiddled with his long-empty beer bottle just to give his hands something to do while he thought. “I think the biggest one is that I’d like if we could check in with each other at least once a day.”

Alex nodded. “How would you prefer we check in?” he asked promptly. “Phone? The bond? Smoke signals? Homing pigeons?”

Greg gave him a look. “Hilarious,” he said dryly. “Definitely at least through the bond, though I wouldn’t mind hearing your voice every day. I just doubt that’s realistic given your schedule and mine.”

“Probably a little ambitious,” Alex agreed. “But the bond we can definitely do.” He glanced up at Greg. “Anything else?”

“No work talk,” Greg said, though it came out pitched as more of a suggestion.

Which was probably why Alex immediately pulled a face. “That’s not exactly realistic, given our line of work,” he pointed out, reasonably.

The prick. Greg scowled. “Fine, minimal work talk about projects we’re both involved in, how about that?”

Alex raised both eyebrows, amused. “So pretty much no talking about Taskmaster.”

“S’pose so, yeah,” Greg said, since that was the biggest and most obvious elephant in the room. “You know that towards the end of a day filming I can be a real—”

He broke off, and Alex’s lips twitched. “Bear?” he suggested innocently, and Greg glowered at him.

“—Prick,” he finished for himself, “and I don’t want to bring that home with me.” He gave Alex a look. “Nor do I want to spend any of my free time discussing things that could have gone better when there’s absolutely no way to change them at that point.”

“I don’t do that—” Alex started, but Greg just gave him a look and reached out to tap him lightly on the side of the head, a reminder that he knew better. Alex managed a light laugh as he ducked away from Greg’s finger. “Fair enough.” Again he glanced up expectantly at Greg. “Are those the only two?”

“Er,” Greg said, distracted by repeatedly trying to touch Alex’s head, giggling every time he dodged out of the way. “No shoes in the house?”

Alex stopped moving so suddenly that Greg almost smacked him on accident. “Really? That’s it?”

Greg shrugged. “Yeah, I mean, those’re the big ones at least. The rest I assume we’ll figure out together.”

He hadn’t meant for it to sound as corny as it did, but Alex’s resulting smile was worth it just the same. Alex shook his head slowly, something contemplative in his expression. “This isn’t how I expected this to go,” he admitted, and Greg cocked his head slightly.

“What do you mean?”

Alex shrugged. “I mean it’s all been so…normal.” He wrinkled his nose the way he did when he thought his own word choice was inadequate. “These have been the kinds of conversations you’d have when starting a– a relationship with anyone.”

“Not just a were-bear and his nature-appointed human?” Greg asked, amused.

Alex nodded. “Exactly.” He hesitated for a moment before saying, “Speaking of, can I ask you something?”

“Of course, yeah.”

Alex took a deep breath before starting, almost cautiously, “When this all started, you said I wouldn’t be able to read your mind.”

He didn’t say it accusingly, but Greg had known this was going to come up sooner or later and he sighed and leaned forward. “Right.”

“But I– I mean, it’s not full on telepathy, I suppose, but—”

Greg rescued Alex from his floundering. “No,” he agreed, “But it is more than just a bit of how you’re feeling.” He frowned. “I didn’t lie, for what that’s worth.”

Alex shook his head. “I didn’t think you did.”

“But this is more than I was told to expect either,” Greg told him. “Rhod’s fucking useless at anything save for saying it’s not like this for him and Sian, and I don’t have that many other shifter friends that I can ask, but…” He hesitated, unsure if he should say this next part since it was rooted in exactly zero evidence. “I have a theory.”

Alex immediately perked up, which Greg should have expected. “What’s your theory?”

Greg shrugged. “I think our bond’s overcompensating.”

“For what?” Alex asked, his brow furrowed.

Greg scratched the side of his neck. “At first I thought it was time, because of how long we went– well, how long I went, really, without telling you,” he said. “But now I think it’s more about distance.”

“Distance?” Alex repeated, sounding more intrigued than anything.

Greg nodded. “Yeah. I mean, sitting here now, what can you feel?”

Alex screwed his entire face up in concentration before shaking his head. “That you love me,” he said, giving Greg a small smile.

One that Greg readily returned, even as he prompted, “And?”

Alex thought about it a moment more. “And that’s about it.”

Greg’s smile sharpened into a smirk. “So you didn’t get to see the replay of my dream where I hold you down and—”

“No, didn’t get that at all!” Alex said hurriedly, flushing a particularly delicious shade of pink.

Greg’s smirk widened. “And now?” he asked, concentrating now on the mental image he had of pinning Alex to the sofa and kissing him until they were both breathless.

Alex’s flush deepened but he also gave Greg a furtive smile. “Well, that’s…not what I was expecting,” he admitted.

“Should be. It’s what I’ve been dying to do all afternoon,” Greg told him. “But in any case, if you were at home, you would’ve gotten it the first time ‘round without me having to try like I just did.”

Which Greg knew because if he had to concentrate that hard every time he tried to use the bond, he’d’ve just given up and bought a house in Chesham by now. “Probably,” Alex agreed, though he gave Greg a pointed look as he added, “I’m not suggesting we test it with anything more, erm, scandalous, mind you.”

Greg smirked again. “I make no guarantees,” he said, equal parts sweet and smug.

Alex just shook his head and tried to get them back on track. “So you think that because we don’t live together, or spend as much time together, our bond—”

“Makes sure we’re together regardless, yeah,” Greg said, nodding. “At least that’s my current theory.”

“Seems sound,” Alex murmured, his expression distant the way it was when he got ideas for a task, and Greg sighed, predicting a fair amount of experimentation with the bond in his near future. But after a moment, Alex shook his head as if to clear it and glanced at Greg again. “Was it like this with your dad?”

Greg blinked. “What do you mean?” he asked, surprised by the question.

Alex shrugged. “I mean, he was your anchor for most of your life, and a lot of it was while you were living on your own.”

“Oh, right,” Greg said, following his train of thought. “No, parent anchors are different for, well, obvious reasons. We didn’t really feel each other like that. It was more like—”

He broke off, trying to figure out how to explain it. “When shifters are born, they don’t shift right away. I mean, can you imagine? A baby suddenly becomes a tiny little bear cub in the maternity ward?” Alex half-smiled at the mental image and Greg smiled as well before continuing, “But when they’re about two or three is when they start. And it’s very unpredictable at first. They can’t control it.” He shrugged, mainly because he had no memory of those early days so had to take his mum’s word for how much of a nightmare it was trying to keep a massive bear cub from destroying the entire town. “So it’s their anchor’s job to keep them human as much as possible. For survival alone. Or at least to minimise property damage.” Alex barked a laugh at that. “And so there’s normally one thing in particular from their anchor that they kind of latch onto.” His own smile turned soft, wistful at the many, many memories he was lucky enough to have. “When my dad made me laugh, that’s what did it for me. Without fail.” He shook his head. “And when I was older and out of the house, just remembering the jokes he told was enough.”

Alex studied him for a long moment. “You miss that from him most,” he observed.

Greg nodded. “Yeah.” He cleared his throat, smiling down at Alex. “Of course I suppose that’s why nature chose you.”

“Why?” Alex asked, his brow furrowing.

“Because you also make me laugh.”

Something tightened in Alex’s expression and he shook his head. “Not nearly as much,” he said dismissively.

“Horseshit, you make me laugh all of the time when you’re not deliberately trying to make me not laugh,” Greg said in a tone that brooked no argument. “And even then, you know I can sometimes barely hold it together during our banter.”

But instead of making Alex laugh or even smile, that statement just seemed to worry him, his brow furrowing again. “I suppose that’s a good segue into my other concerns.”

As tempted as Greg immediately was to take the piss for him actually using the word ‘segue’ in casual conversation, the content of Alex’s statement mattered more than how he chose to say it. “Other concerns?”

Alex nodded. “We start filming the studio segments of the next series in a few weeks,” he reminded Greg. “And I wasn’t sure, given everything, how it was going to work.”

“What do you mean?” Greg asked, frowning, because he was fairly certain the next series was going to work the same as every series they’d recorded to date.

Alex gave him a look like he was trying to decide if Greg was being deliberately thick again. “I mean,” he said pointedly, “you just said earlier that you’ll do anything to make me happy. And in a few weeks you’ll have to turn around and be absolutely horrid to me.”

Greg felt immediate relief that Alex’s sole concern was that. “And you think I somehow won’t manage it?” he asked dismissively. “Alex, I spent nine years—”

“I know, but it’s different now.”

Greg just arched an eyebrow. “For you,” he said coolly.

Alex frowned. “I—”

Greg shook his head and cut him off. “The show is– it’s like your fourth child,” he told him. “You are happiest when it’s going well and the audience is laughing.” He raised both eyebrows as if daring Alex to argue as he added, “To that end, I like to think I know how to get them to laugh, especially if it involves me being horrible to you.”

“I suppose…” Alex said slowly.

Greg bent towards him, a smirk lifting the corners of his mouth. “Besides,” he murmured, “you forget, they also laugh when we flirt. And I think we’re both going to have a bit of fun with that.”

Alex grinned up at him. “Mm, yes, my big, beautiful bear,” he said, deadpan, and Greg laughed and shook his head, wrinkling his nose.

“Not like that.”

Alex shrugged nonchalantly. “Too late, I’m afraid.”

Greg glanced at him. “What?”

“I used that line in an extra video we filmed for YouTube– had to have been ages ago now.” Alex shrugged again, a little less nonchalant this time. “Long before I knew about any of this, of course.”

Greg stared at him. “You called me a bear in a video?” he repeated. “That’s—”

“Oddly prescient?” Alex supplied.

Greg just shook his head. “Really fucking weird.”

Alex considered it and nodded. “That too,” he said cheerfully. “I think at the time I meant it more in the, well, LGBTQ identity sense—”

Greg rolled his eyes. “The thought had crossed my mind, yeah,” he said dryly, as if he hadn’t had to spend the last 20 years of his life listening to Rhod make the same joke.

But there was something gentle in Alex’s expression, something warm, something that told Greg that he didn’t mean this as a joke. “But I do wonder if maybe a part of me knew, even then.”

Greg’s chest felt tight, and he reached once more for Alex’s hand. “Well, the important thing is that all of you knows now.”

Alex smiled up at him. “I suppose that is true,” he agreed before asking Greg, “So what now?”

“You tell me,” Greg said comfortably, shifting to wrap his arm around Alex’s shoulder. “How much of your checklist have we got left?”

Alex leaned against him. “I think we’re about done with admin for the moment.”

Greg blinked in surprise. “Really?” he said, trying not to sound too excited about that.

Alex twisted his head to give him a look. “I said for the moment, not forever.”

Greg just laughed and kissed the top of his head. “Still,” he said fondly. “And we’ve plenty of time before bed. So you tell me – what do you want to do?”

Alex pretended to consider it, but the grin he wasn’t able to stop gave him away long before he said off-handedly, “That bit about snogging like teenagers sounded nice.”

Greg grinned. “Yeah?”

Alex nodded, too enthusiastic for the casual tone he attempted as he echoed, “Yeah.”

So that was exactly what they did.

Greg hadn't needed Alex pressed against him, his mouth open against his, or his hands balled in the folds of his jumper to know that every word he had told Alex was true: he would be perfectly fine if this was all they ever did. But the reality certainly sealed the deal, because it was him and Alex and kisses punctuated with blushes and grins and laughter, all negotiations and admin and massive white bears set to the side for at least the moment.

And every bit of it was perfect, and worth every minute he'd spent dreaming of this moment.