Work Text:
Greg felt a hand on the small of his back, which, given his height, was usually where most people touched him when they needed his attention. But he’d know this touch in a pitch black room, the same way he’d know the gentle breath that warmed his ear as the person leaned in to ask, voice just loud enough to be heard over the din of the pub, “Shall we?"
“Already?” Greg asked, a small smile lifting the corner of his mouth without him even turning to look at Alex. “We’ve not even been here an hour.”
Alex huffed a noise that was part-laugh, part-sigh, which meant it came out as a sort of wheezing honk, a noise that Greg should not have found even remotely charming. “We’ve been here nearly 2 hours,” Alex told him. “And we do have to record tomorrow.”
Greg sighed as well, his as equally good-natured as Alex’s had been. “Yeah, all right,” he said amicably, tossing back the remainder of his vodka Red Bull. “Just have a few people to say goodbye to, and then we can leave.”
He felt Alex’s eyes on him as he made the rounds, saying goodbye to a handful of people, getting stopped by a few more as he did. It was a relatively small crew out that night, since they’d decided to go to a pub in London rather than the familiar one by Pinewood, which meant most of those who didn’t live in the city had opted out. Good riddance as far as Greg was concerned, as it meant that he could strongly suggest a place within walking distance of his.
And since Alex was spending the night at his anyway, it was a win-win as far as he was concerned.
When Greg had finally said his goodbyes, he returned to Alex’s side. “All right, let’s go,” he said, and together they stepped outside, the late spring night pleasantly cool after the stuffiness of the pub.
They walked together in companionable silence, neither man feeling the need to fill the quiet with inane conversation. Greg pulled his vape out and took a few puffs before exhaling a plume of vapour that dissipated into the steely grey of the clouds.
As he watched it disappear, Alex aimed a kick at a stone on the pavement that skittered into the street. “8,” he said, neither the number nor his tone giving any indication of what he meant.
“8,” Greg affirmed, tucking his vape back into his pocket. He knew better than to ask Alex to clarify, figuring he’d get to his point eventually, or not at all, and no amount of cajoling from Greg would make a difference.
When they had first started working together, Greg had started off trying to encourage Alex to get to the fucking point. Not because he didn’t enjoy listening to the man as he tried to puzzle through something in frequently the weirdest and twerpiest way possible, but because Greg liked being able to help when he could, or, barring that, liked being able to commiserate with a funny story of his own.
He knew better now, knew that this was an extension of the sort of ‘yes, and’ they did on screen where the journey was frequently more important than the destination – that sometimes, they never even got to whatever point or punchline Alex was trying to make.
“You said goodbye to 8 people,” Alex informed him.
Greg frowned, just slightly. “Like I said, a few,” he said, taking a stab in the dark that this was what Alex was getting at. “Everyone knows a few means between 2 and a couple dozen, right?”
But Alex didn’t laugh, just nodded like it was the answer to a question, but not whatever one he was rotating in his weird mind. “How many do you think would make your 52?”
“My 52?” Greg repeated, raising both eyebrows. “My 52 what?”
“People you have to say goodbye to.”
It took a long moment for Greg to remember what Alex was talking about, an offhand comment he’d made about Reece Shearsmith’s prize task in the first episode, the fortune teller that held 52 cards. Greg had joked that he wouldn’t be ready to die after 52 cards, that he had at least 52 people to say goodbye to. At the time, Alex had leaned into the joke, pulling him up on having 52 people, but Greg suspected Alex wouldn’t be so inclined this time.
His initial instinct was to brush it off, to make an easy joke and move them onto a less morbid topic, but he knew Alex, and if this dumb comment was still on his mind after two entire episode recordings, it was for a reason.
Which meant it was Greg’s duty to try to get to the bottom of that reason.
He shoved his hand in his pocket, turning his vape over the way Alex had almost certainly been spinning this around in his mind, looking for the most obvious angle. Well, maybe not the most obvious, since Greg’s usual simmering anxiety immediately leapt to the insane conclusion that Alex was broaching the topic of goodbyes because he was planning on ending this, this nameless thing that they’d been doing for the last few years, this thing that had Alex going back to Greg’s and waking up in his bed wearing significantly less clothes.
It seemed unlikely, though, that Alex was steering this conversation towards ending things, and not just because they’d spent a solid twenty minutes before leaving for the pub snogging on the sofa in Greg’s dressing room. Greg switched his hand from the pocket with his vape to the pocket with his nicotine gum, pulling the packet out and punching a piece out through the foil. “Are you so worried about my health that you think I have a reason to be thinking about my final goodbyes to anyone?” he hazarded before popping the gum into his mouth.
“I’d be less worried if you didn’t think switching to sugar-free Red Bull was what your cardiologist had in mind when she wanted you to try going low-carb,” Alex said.
Well, it wasn’t exactly a no, and Greg chewed his gum for a few moments before answering Alex’s original question. “The Andys, probably. Though that’d probably depend on how long after Taskmaster ends we’re thinking.”
Alex blinked, his brow furrowing for just a moment before he caught up. “Makes sense,” he said, nodding in that officious way of his. “They’d probably make my list as well.”
Greg snorted a laugh. “Mate, you’d probably be so concerned about hurting someone’s feelings even on your deathbed that you’d have the entire crew on your list.”
Alex’s lips twitched, just slightly. “Well, the Andys would probably be fairly high up my list, then,” he said, and Greg didn’t even doubt for a moment that Alex already had a mental list going. “Or– down my list, I suppose? If the bottom of the list is the person you’d say goodbye to last.”
“Dare I ask who would be at the bottom of your list, then?” Greg said, largely because it felt like Alex wanted him to, and Greg was nothing if not a good comedy partner, even in this bizarre stretch of particularly morbid improv.
Alex didn’t hesitate. “Rachel.”
Greg nodded. “Sure, yeah.”
“Then my boys.”
“I’d hope so.”
Alex scrunched his nose. “Loky.”
Greg raised both eyebrows, amused despite himself. “I think you’ve a decent chance of outliving your dog, mate, but never say never.”
Alex honked a brief laugh before sobering. “Tim.”
“Vine?” Greg asked, just to be a prick.
“Key,” Alex corrected before his eyes widened. “Oh, wait, would we– we should probably say goodbye to the contestants, shouldn’t we.”
He didn’t pitch it like a question and Greg scowled. “Not sure how I got roped into this, but absolutely not, I’m not ringing every fucking Taskmaster contestant from my hospital bed to tell them goodbye, are you mental?” he huffed. “Especially since by the time I kick off…”
He trailed off and Alex glanced sideways at him. “By the time you kick off?” he prompted.
“I’m trying to figure out how many contestants we’ve had,” Greg confessed.
Alex nodded. “Relatively basic maths being your strong suit.”
Greg ignored him. “And then I was going to add– what do you think? 5? 10? I think 15’s starting to get optimistic.”
Alex let out a small hum of disagreement. “Assuming the recommission goes through without issue, we’ll be set through series 25, so unless things go very wrong with your health, it’ll be at least 25 more contestants. Plus three more New Years Treats, so that’s another 15.”
“I am not ringing the fucking new years contestants, fuck off,” Greg said, barking a laugh. “Can you imagine? Me phoning Krishnan Guru-Murthy to give him the exclusive on my impending death?”
“Mm, bold of you to assume he’d want an exclusive.”
For better or for worse, their conversation had taken them all the way to Greg’s door, and he gave Alex the finger in response as he pulled his keys out of his pocket.
Once inside Greg’s flat, neither man seemed inclined to pick the conversation up again, Alex either because he’d gotten whatever answer he was looking for or was waiting for a different tack to bring it up again, Greg because he was genuinely no closer to figuring out what exactly Alex had been getting at in the first place.
As they both went through the motions of getting ready for bed, Greg found his mind kept wandering, trying and failing to work this out. Surely after all this time, he knew Alex well enough that he could think like him for at least long enough that he could see all the pieces of the puzzle fall into place.
Maybe, he thought as he squeezed toothpaste onto his toothbrush, if he worked his way backwards, it’d help. Everything with Alex was deliberate, so if he’d brought up the 52 people thing for a reason, he’d also steered the conversation the way it’d gone for a reason.
He could rule out something to do with Taskmaster contestants – that’d been his own diversion, not Alex’s, even if Alex had gone along with it. Something with Alex’s list then, or even just the fact that he’d had a list, or the start of one. But the people – and dog – Alex had mentioned had all been the usual suspects, nothing suspicious there.
He spat a glob of toothpaste into the sink and turned the tap on, a frown furrowing his brow. Maybe it wasn’t a question of who was on Alex’s list, but who wasn’t. Who hadn’t Alex mentioned that he should have?
Well, the most obvious answer was staring Greg right in the face, rather literally, as he looked in the bathroom mirror. Not that Greg necessarily thought he deserved to go above Loky, but he probably should at least tie with Tim. So why hadn’t Alex mentioned him in this weird talk of goodbyes?
The obvious answer, of course, was that it was extremely unlikely that Greg would outlive Alex – almost as unlikely that Loky would outlive Alex. But usually Alex was the first to make that joke, and it wasn’t like him to pass up on such an opportunity.
Unless, Greg thought as he sat down heavily on the edge of the bed to pull his pyjama bottoms on, Alex already curled up under the covers on his side, Alex didn’t want Greg to feel obligated to put him on his own list. Which was insane, because of course he’d have Alex on his list, because Alex was his—
Greg straightened so suddenly he was fairly certain he heard something in his back pop, but he ignored it, instead turning and scrambling across the bed to poke Alex in the side. “Alex?”
Alex rolled over, cracking one eye open, though Greg knew him well enough to know he hadn’t been asleep. “Yes, Greg?”
“Is this– was that your way of trying to have the ‘what are we’ conversation?”
The question came out rather more breathlessly than he would’ve liked, but he immediately knew he was on to something by the way Alex’s expression switched to something blandly neutral. “Sorry?”
Greg’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t play dumb, it doesn’t suit you.”
“Who said I was playing?”
“Me, you twerp,” Greg said, poking him in the side once more. “And stop trying to distract me.” He sat back as Alex sat up, something guarded in his expression. “I thought– the talk of goodbyes, I thought maybe you were trying to end things—”
Alex’s eyes flashed to his. “Absolutely not,” he said firmly.
Greg wanted so badly to kiss him, but refused to let himself lose track of this train of thought. “Yeah, I figured that out for myself, thanks. Then I thought maybe you were trying to tell me you’d gotten some bad medical news or something—”
“Your brain is fascinating,” Alex interrupted.
Greg frowned. “What? Why?”
“Automatically leaping to the worst possible reasons,” Alex said, shaking his head. “I’d like to live in it for a day.”
Greg pulled a face. “Believe me, you wouldn’t,” he said shortly.
But Alex just raised both eyebrows as if it was a dare. “I would,” he said stubbornly. “Just so I could spend all day playing whac-a-mole with your anxiety.”
It was unbearably sweet, and Greg swallowed down his stupid grin to instead tell Alex, “And I’d like to spend one day in yours so I could get some actual fucking answers without you trying to derail the conversation five times over, but there we are.”
Alex’s lips twitched. “That one was accidental.”
“Sure.”
“Mostly, anyway.”
“Uh-huh,” Greg said sceptically. “But to get back to the point—”
Alex exhaled heavily. “Yes.”
Greg blinked. “Yes what?”
For the first time, Alex looked uncomfortable. “Yes, that was– I mean, you– you know I’m rubbish at this sort of, erm, thing.”
“I will need you to be more specific.”
If possible, Alex looked even more uncomfortable at that, and usually, Greg would luxuriate in this, in Alex’s discomfort, would tease it out as long as he possibly could, but right now, he couldn’t quite bring himself to. “At– at feelings, and the discussion of them.” Alex scrunched his nose and added, “And such.”
Despite himself, despite the relative seriousness of the conversation, Greg couldn’t quite contain his giggle. “Fucking hell, mate. Case in point.”
“Shush,” Alex said, but he at least looked slightly less like he was about to bolt like a startled hare.
“Did you just shush me?” Greg asked, more amused than he had any right to be.
Alex shrugged. “Seemed politer than pointing out that you’re not exactly great at this either.”
Which, while true, seemed uncalled for. “Fuck off.”
“Am I wrong?” Alex asked mildly.
Greg scowled. “No, we are both emotionally constipated, I suppose. In different ways and for different reasons.”
“Thank you,” Alex said, before taking a deep breath and continuing, “So– I don’t know. What you said, during the prize task, about having 52 people to say goodbye to…I guess I thought maybe determining where exactly I fall in that might answer the question without it needing to be– broached.”
God, Alex’s mind really was fascinating. Absolute mental, but fascinating nonetheless. “The question being ‘what are we’.”
Alex nodded. “Yes.”
“And did it?”
Alex shook his head. “Not really, no.”
Greg wasn’t entirely surprised by that. “Mm. Did you want to try again?”
Alex seemed to perk up slightly at that. “If you were dying—”
“Fuck’s sake,” Greg sighed, flopping down onto his back.
“It’s not my fault you’ve not answered that question either!” Alex protested, his protest severely undermined by his shit-eating grin, and when Greg just huffed another sigh, he propped his head on Greg’s chest, giving him his very best pleading look.
Luckily for him, Greg was no match for Alex’s stupid big blue eyes. “Fine,” Greg huffed. “If I was dying, you’d be the last person I’d say goodbye to. Happy?”
Alex bit his lip. “Even after your mum? And your sister?”
Despite himself, Greg snorted a laugh. “Well, let’s be honest, my mum’s not long for this world. She keeps telling me she’s ready to die. I keep telling her to get on with it, then." It was the sort of joke he could only make to Alex, who knew him well enough to know he wasn't even remotely serious, especially given his mum's recent health issues. "So the likelihood of her outliving me, even with my lifestyle, is not high.”
Alex prodded him in the side. “Now who’s derailing?”
Greg tried to bat his hand away, smiling softly when Alex instead grabbed his hand, tangling their fingers together. “Yes, even after my mum and my sister and my wretched nieces,” he said softly. “You are always the last person I say goodbye to, on those rare occasions when I have to leave first. Because I hate it, every time, no matter how soon I know I’ll see you again, so I put it off as long as I can. So if I was dying—”
Alex considered it. “Medium-sized if?” he suggested, grinning when Greg glared at him. “Feels right.”
“You’re such a fucking prick,” Greg grumbled without any real heat. “If I was dying, I’d put off saying goodbye to you until the very end.”
Alex nodded slowly. “Right.”
“Which I think is pretty typical, to want to say goodbye to your partner last.”
Greg said it as casually as he could, but he couldn’t stop his grin when Alex blinked at him. “Your– is that—?”
“That’s my answer, yeah,” Greg told him. “To the ‘what are we’ question. If, er, if that’s all right with you, at least.”
Alex grinned, that wide, genuine grin that always felt to Greg like the sun coming out from behind a cloud. “It is. It very much is.”
He leaned in to kiss him, but Greg stopped him. “And hopefully that means you’d want to say goodbye to Tim fucking Key before me.”
Alex’s grin softened. “I’d probably put you about on par with Loky,” he said, his eyes sparkling with laughter.
“Sure.”
“Largely because you’ll probably both be dead long before me and it’d be a moot point.”
And there was the joke Greg had been waiting for. He sighed his laugh, pulling Alex to him so he could kiss him before telling him, “I love you, you know.”
It wasn't the first time he'd said it, but it somehow felt different now – more real. “I know,” Alex said, kissing him back, slow and sweet. “I love you, too.”
Greg kissed him once more before reaching out to turn the light off. “Now can we agree that, as neither of us has any plan to need to say our final goodbyes anytime soon, we can table this conversation for the foreseeable future?”
Alex let out a contented sort of hum, snuggling against Greg. “Yes, all right,” he agreed. “Goodnight, Greg.”
Greg wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close, and leaned in to press one final kiss to the top of his head. “Goodnight, my silly boy.”
Alex really was so fucking weird, he reflected as he closed his eyes, already feeling Alex’s breathing even out into sleep, but Greg wouldn’t trade him, or any of this, for anything.
After all, just like with Alex’s jokes or bizarre, meandering way of getting to the point, the journey was far more important than the destination. And Greg was just lucky he got to call Alex his partner for wherever this journey led.