Fic: Classic or...Cock? (Top Gear RPS) (1/1)
Title: Classic or...Cock? Author: capra_fera Rating: PG-13 for innuendo and language Pairing: James/Jeremy, OT3 implied Summary: Flirting in front of the camera can be great fun. Warnings: None. Unless you're actually from Top Gear, in which case: RUN AWAY!!!!! Disclaimer: Top Gear and its presenters do not belong to me, but to the BBC. (Their contracts say so. ;)) No money was made. This is FIK-shun.
Notes: This was written for chocolatepeach's Slash Edition Episode Challenge on LJ. The prompt she gave me was Series 3, Episode 8. Lo and behold, there was Jezza making lewd threats during the 'Classic or Crock?' segment. Most of the dialogue is, in fact, lifted straight from that episode. Damn, they make it easy. :D
"Right. The original Impreza Turbo. What do we think?"
James tightened his lips when he heard Jeremy adding his cries of 'classic!' to those of the studio audience. So the 'Great' Clarkson was feeling rather more energetic today than expected and had decided to make his presence known during a segment that was supposed to feature only James and Richard. Gearing up for a bit of troublemaking, no doubt. Great. James did the mental equivalent of girding his loins and continued to speak toward the camera, holding up the card with the car's photograph.
"It's interesting, it's--"
"Who said that?!"
James sighed as the camera man ignored him and instead followed Jeremy as he stalked toward yet another hapless audience member to harangue them for calling the car in question 'common'. Jeremy obviously had no intention of sticking to the script that he himself had written - the pillock was probably bored with it already. Normally, James could quite handily deal with Jeremy's cocking about, but he was a bit tired this morning. Pleasantly so, of course, but still.... He glanced over at Richard.
"The old man's full of piss and vinegar today, wot?" Richard grinned.
"I was much too easy on his arse last night, apparently," James muttered, covering his mic, his eyes tracking Jeremy's progress. He ignored the choked gasp Richard attempted to disguise as a cough and studied the back of Jeremy's legs with something keener than professional interest.
Not even a trace of stiffness in his gait. Hmpf. Should have kept the cuffs on him long enough for Richard to have had a go as well. He resolved to think on an appropriate response to Jeremy later - when he wasn't supposed to be working in front of dozens of strangers and millions of the viewing public. He grinned slightly, and was relieved to see that Jeremy was winding down and returning to his original spot, still talking over his shoulder.
"It's a very good car, and if they don't put that in classic, one of them's going to be going home with that--" And here Jeremy paused for effect, staring straight at James as he held aloft his microphone, "--buried deep inside them."
James blinked. This was new.
Not the commentary, of course: Jeremy'd always been a lumbering, obnoxious oaf. No, what had caught James' attention was the double meaning behind his words, hinted at by the note of challenge and gleeful hope in his voice - Jeremy was expressing his desire (in the most public and therefore most totally inappropriate manner possible) to be the one buried deep inside. Inside of James, to be precise.
Of all the clandestine combinations of the three of them, this was one that, for various reasons, hadn't managed to materialize. Obviously that was about to change, if he so wished. Jeremy flashed him an unmistakable look from under his eyelids, chin jutting out belligerently, the message clear: You up for it, May?
Oh, cock, James breathed, eternally grateful that he had worn a suit jacket for today's filming, then cursed to realize he hadn't actually buttoned it closed.
He was far more grateful, then, when Richard, unhampered by a complete lack of blood flow to the brain, covered James' lapse into lust-induced shock with some blather about Jeremy leaping into the audience. Or looming. Or something. The roaring heat in his blood was obliterating whatever nonsense Richard was spouting.
James wrenched his mind sharply to the present. Infuriating man! "Right. The Impreza Turbo. It is interesting - interesting spoiler, interesting engine, interesting inter-cooler gauge, yes?" James was instantly back up to speed, confidently speaking his (mostly) scripted lines without a trace of nerves or ill-concealed arousal. "It's not rare, is it? I can see three of these from my bedroom window, alright, parked on my street, so that's one-nil."
"That's because you live next to a Subaru garage," Jeremy protested, the glint in his eye a warning that he was not going to give James an easy time of it.
James didn't even flinch. "No, it's not." That was a pathetic shot, Jez.
Richard's kebab shop jibe also fell a bit flat, which confirmed to James that he was far less flustered at this point by Jeremy's little stunt than the other two. Flirting on camera might be highly amusing in a slightly dangerous way, but he'd be damned if he'd let the quality of his work suffer for it.
"Right. It's one-nil." For me, you utter cock. "It is interesting, it's not rare. Is it good looking?"
James was nearly taken aback at the volume of Jeremy's 'yes!' which was easily heard over the audience. He looked over in surprise. From the fond look he received in turn, James got the distinct impression that Jeremy was referring to something other than the car they were debating over. James smiled at his feet, staving off the impending flush of his face. The alarmingly sentimental moment ended mercifully when Jeremy stormed off across the studio to confront one of the audience naysayers. James glanced up and watched in amusement as Jeremy's intended victim turned one of Jeremy's old jokes back on him.
Regaining control, James politely interrupted Jeremy's brewing tirade. "May I continue?"
"There's no pressure either, James, don't worry." Richard was laughing, but there was a hint of breathless anticipation to it that James recognized. Judging from the slight twist of Jeremy's lips, he'd heard it, too. He nodded at James to make his choice.
James May was perhaps not as loud or as dramatic as his co-presenters, but he was perfectly capable of milking an anticipatory moment when it was required. He waved the car's picture to punctuate his words.
"Interesting...not rare...."
With a flourish he slapped the picture of the Subaru Impreza Turbo onto the 'Crock' side of the board, to much audience uproar and a disbelieving cry from Richard. James smirked in challenge at Jeremy who smiled back, arms crossed in satisfaction.
A few minutes later, when Jeremy enthusiastically licked the photograph of the Fiesta RS-1800 after ripping it out of his hand, James pondered whether he could find a Ford logo from somewhere to stick on his arse.