Fic: Behind Closed Doors: Prequel (1/1)
Title: Behind Closed Doors: Prequel
Fandom: Top Gear UK
Rating: R/NC-17.
Pairing: Jeremy/Richard, mentions of one-sided Richard/James
Word Count: ~1600
Summary: How the whole thing started with Jeremy and Richard.
Warnings: informal BDSM themes (mainly pain mixed with pleasure and restraining), gratuitous swearing, minor violence/fighting.
Disclaimer: If this ever happened or I was ever affiliated with Top Gear or BBC, I'd owe you a million pounds. Or this bucket. Oh, and comments regarding Jason Dawe do not reflect the opinions of the author or Top Gear. Richard's just being a jerk. LOL
Author’s Ramblings: I hadn’t planned to write any more in this ‘verse, but since there was such a wonderful response to Jeremy in the original fic, I was inspired to write this prequel scene. I hope you all like it! Thanks to suggsygirl again for the beta. ♥
The door of the portakabin flew open and Richard was shoved inside, tripping over the threshold and landing with a shout on the carpet. The handful of staff members sitting around were startled and a couple of them stood to see if he was all right, but they froze when Jeremy stormed in with all the fury of a bottled hurricane.
“Everybody. Leave. Now,” Jeremy ordered in a carefully measured tone. “And don’t come back in until we both come out.”
Even when not yelling, a seriously angry Jeremy was terrifying. There was a rush for the door, a few concerned glances at the smaller man still on his knees, and then the crew were gone. Jeremy locked the door behind them.
Richard rose to his feet with a bit of difficulty and glared up at Jeremy. “Don’t fucking push me like that again, Jez, I’m not in the fucking mood.”
“You’re not in the fucking mood? You’ve been a right obstinate little shit all fucking day, don’t tell me you’re not in the mood,” Jeremy bellowed as his self-control slipped, advancing on Richard. “What the hell is going on with you?”
“Leave it, just fucking leave it, all right?”
“I’ve been leaving it, all fucking day, and you’re just getting worse. What’re you gonna do, Hamster? Hit me?” he scoffed, moving even closer.
“Don’t fucking call me that, I told you!” Richard growled and launched himself forward.
Jeremy caught him, one hand grabbing Richard’s raised fist and the other pushing him back against the wall and restraining him there. “God dammit, get a fucking hold of yourself,” he snapped. “Did I hire a mental?”
Richard struggled under the bigger man’s hands, teeth still bared in anger. “Let me go right fucking now.”
“Not until you tell me what crawled up your arse this morning and made you think you’re in bloody charge.” Jeremy shook Richard’s lean frame against the wall. “You’re going to destroy the show before it’s barely fucking started at this rate. Jason’s already walked out the fucking door and --”
“That had nothing to do with me, Jason was a useless twat and you were gonna fire him after the series anyway,” interrupted Richard.
“-- and,” Jeremy continued, ignoring him, “James might be following in his footsteps if you pull this shit around him.” He saw Richard clench his jaw at the mention of James and Jeremy nodded knowingly. “Now stop fighting and fucking talk to me!”
Richard responded by kicking out at Jeremy’s legs and nearly pulled free before Jeremy smashed him back into the wood of the portakabin by his shoulders. Richard’s head smacked against the wall and he groaned, some of the tension leaving his body as he winced.
Some concern mixed with the anger in Jeremy’s face and his voice came a little softer. “What the hell are you playing at, mate?”
There was no reply beyond the panting breaths, and Richard’s eyes were still closed tight. Unable to read his expression, Jeremy forced a leg against his in case he was planning to kick again.
That’s when Jeremy felt hardness against his thigh.
Jeremy’s eyes widened as if he were suddenly aware of just how close they were, of every point their bodies touched. He slowly looked down between them and sure enough, there was a noticeable bulge in Richard’s jeans. Jeremy lifted his head to find Richard watching him, something completely foreign in his eyes and a pink flush to his face. Neither of them moved for a moment - then Richard rubbed very tentatively against Jeremy’s leg.
Jeremy’s hands tightened their grip on the other man’s shoulders. “What the fuck is this? Is that why you’re a fucking maniac today, because you want --”
“No,” Richard said, a rough edge to his words but still sounding far calmer than he had just seconds before, “I’m not angry because I want.” He breathed deeply before continuing, frustration evident in his voice and blushing cheeks. “I’m angry because I need.” His hips moved again with the emphasis.
Jeremy glanced down again at the movement, then back up to watch Richard’s face. Experimentally, he pressed hard into Richard’s crotch.
Richard squirmed against the wall, a very different kind of groan caught in his throat. “Oh...”
At the sound, Jeremy pushed nearly flush against him, chest to chest, until Richard had to crane his neck to look up at him. “Why not James, then?” Jeremy asked, his voice low and gravelly.
The pink in Richard’s cheeks deepened. “How did you --” Richard stopped mid-sentence at the I-know-everything-you-idiot look on Jeremy’s face. “Right.” He started to roll his eyes, but Jeremy pushed his knee further between his thighs and Richard’s expression of annoyance turned to pleasure. “Oh fuck, more.” He tried to rock his hips into Jeremy’s leg, but there wasn’t enough room between him and the wall.
“Answer me.”
“Are you fucking kidding? This wouldn’t fit into his tidy little world, he’d throw me out the fucking door if I tried.”
“And I won’t?”
Richard let out a breathy chuckle. “This wasn’t exactly planned. But you haven’t yet."
Jeremy smirked a little. “True... Though I’m not sure why,” he mused. Still watching Richard as if he were a test subject, Jeremy roughly rubbed his leg back and forth where Richard’s erection swelled in his jeans.
The friction set Richard squirming again with a whimper building up in the back of his throat. “Please, Jez.”
“Please what? What exactly do you want from me?”
Richard bit his lip and closed his eyes for a moment, head still bent back in the close quarters. “Just help me. That’s all. Please.”
“Okay. I can do that.” Jeremy surged forward, completely pinning Richard back against the wall and grinding his knee up into Richard’s crotch.
Richard fought for breath as the harsh denim and metal teeth of the zip grated against his cock, barely cushioned by the thin fabric of his pants. “Fucking hell.”
“Does it hurt?” Jeremy’s leg didn’t stop moving.
“Yes, fuck,” Richard hissed out between clenched teeth.
There was definitely amusement in Jeremy’s voice when he asked, “Do you want me to stop?”
“God, no, don’t you fucking dare.” Struggling against the wall, Richard managed to hitch himself up a couple of inches so he could move just a little to meet Jeremy’s assault. He gasped at the new angle and his hands scrabbled pointlessly against the wood at his sides.
It was Jeremy’s turn to chuckle at Richard’s response. “You’re still a mouthy little shit even now, up against a fucking wall and begging.” Jeremy sped up his thrusts, his thigh firm and lingering, and he grunted whenever his own growing arousal accidentally pressed against Richard’s, denim to denim.
Richard’s head was bumping steadily into the wall, but he didn’t try to stop it as he bore down on Jeremy’s knee again and again. “Just... come on... almost...,” he huffed out between heaving breaths.
“Already? I knew I was good, but seriously, Richard, I’m flattered.” Jeremy grinned and one of his hands dropped from Richard’s shoulder to his groin, squeezing Richard’s erection strongly through the coarse cotton and jerking twice.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Richard moaned out, instantly arching up into Jeremy’s hand as he came hard in his jeans. When the shudders finished rolling through him, he collapsed back into the wall, panting.
Carefully, Jeremy pulled his hands away and eased his leg out from under Richard. He was about to take a step back to give Richard some air when two hands grabbed for his flies and tried to hold him still. “Ummm,” Jeremy said.
“Shut up for once and let me thank you,” Richard muttered with a smile, unfastening Jeremy’s jeans before pushing a hand inside and pulling out Jeremy’s cock.
“Right, then.” Jeremy leaned in and braced his hands on either side of Richard’s head. Despite his mocking of Richard’s stamina, Jeremy didn’t last long himself with Richard intently pulling him off. Just over a dozen strokes of Richard’s fist and Jeremy came, swearing into Richard’s hair.
There was a moment of silence and regaining of breath, then Richard elbowed Jeremy in the stomach. “Hey. We need to go. It’ll be time to start shooting soon.”
Jeremy pushed himself away from the wall and looked down at Richard. He burst out laughing. “Speaking of shooting...”
Richard looked down at himself and scowled. “You came on my shirt, you bastard!”
“Well you came in your pants like a fucking teenager, so I didn’t think it’d matter much,” Jeremy retorted, still laughing as he adjusted himself in his surprisingly-unsullied jeans. “There’ll be spare clothes in makeup, grab something and get changed.” He smirked. “Just be glad the audience isn’t in yet and we don’t have to worry about bloody continuity. Just James.”
Already walking down the hall to makeup, Richard turned and shot a look at Jeremy. “Don’t say a fucking word to him about this, all right? Not one stupid joke even.”
“For fuck’s sake, Hammond, give me more credit than that. I’ll tell him I roughed you up or something. I’m not a total idiot.” He rolled his eyes when Richard quirked an eyebrow at him. “Shut up, change your clothes, and don’t be a psychotic this time when you come out, all right?”
“Yes, sir,” Richard snorted and left the room.
Once he was out of sight, Jeremy shook his head. “Fucking mentalist,” he grumbled to himself. He was still smirking, though.
END.
Fandom: Top Gear UK
Rating: R/NC-17.
Pairing: Jeremy/Richard, mentions of one-sided Richard/James
Word Count: ~1600
Summary: How the whole thing started with Jeremy and Richard.
Warnings: informal BDSM themes (mainly pain mixed with pleasure and restraining), gratuitous swearing, minor violence/fighting.
Disclaimer: If this ever happened or I was ever affiliated with Top Gear or BBC, I'd owe you a million pounds. Or this bucket. Oh, and comments regarding Jason Dawe do not reflect the opinions of the author or Top Gear. Richard's just being a jerk. LOL
Author’s Ramblings: I hadn’t planned to write any more in this ‘verse, but since there was such a wonderful response to Jeremy in the original fic, I was inspired to write this prequel scene. I hope you all like it! Thanks to suggsygirl again for the beta. ♥
The door of the portakabin flew open and Richard was shoved inside, tripping over the threshold and landing with a shout on the carpet. The handful of staff members sitting around were startled and a couple of them stood to see if he was all right, but they froze when Jeremy stormed in with all the fury of a bottled hurricane.
“Everybody. Leave. Now,” Jeremy ordered in a carefully measured tone. “And don’t come back in until we both come out.”
Even when not yelling, a seriously angry Jeremy was terrifying. There was a rush for the door, a few concerned glances at the smaller man still on his knees, and then the crew were gone. Jeremy locked the door behind them.
Richard rose to his feet with a bit of difficulty and glared up at Jeremy. “Don’t fucking push me like that again, Jez, I’m not in the fucking mood.”
“You’re not in the fucking mood? You’ve been a right obstinate little shit all fucking day, don’t tell me you’re not in the mood,” Jeremy bellowed as his self-control slipped, advancing on Richard. “What the hell is going on with you?”
“Leave it, just fucking leave it, all right?”
“I’ve been leaving it, all fucking day, and you’re just getting worse. What’re you gonna do, Hamster? Hit me?” he scoffed, moving even closer.
“Don’t fucking call me that, I told you!” Richard growled and launched himself forward.
Jeremy caught him, one hand grabbing Richard’s raised fist and the other pushing him back against the wall and restraining him there. “God dammit, get a fucking hold of yourself,” he snapped. “Did I hire a mental?”
Richard struggled under the bigger man’s hands, teeth still bared in anger. “Let me go right fucking now.”
“Not until you tell me what crawled up your arse this morning and made you think you’re in bloody charge.” Jeremy shook Richard’s lean frame against the wall. “You’re going to destroy the show before it’s barely fucking started at this rate. Jason’s already walked out the fucking door and --”
“That had nothing to do with me, Jason was a useless twat and you were gonna fire him after the series anyway,” interrupted Richard.
“-- and,” Jeremy continued, ignoring him, “James might be following in his footsteps if you pull this shit around him.” He saw Richard clench his jaw at the mention of James and Jeremy nodded knowingly. “Now stop fighting and fucking talk to me!”
Richard responded by kicking out at Jeremy’s legs and nearly pulled free before Jeremy smashed him back into the wood of the portakabin by his shoulders. Richard’s head smacked against the wall and he groaned, some of the tension leaving his body as he winced.
Some concern mixed with the anger in Jeremy’s face and his voice came a little softer. “What the hell are you playing at, mate?”
There was no reply beyond the panting breaths, and Richard’s eyes were still closed tight. Unable to read his expression, Jeremy forced a leg against his in case he was planning to kick again.
That’s when Jeremy felt hardness against his thigh.
Jeremy’s eyes widened as if he were suddenly aware of just how close they were, of every point their bodies touched. He slowly looked down between them and sure enough, there was a noticeable bulge in Richard’s jeans. Jeremy lifted his head to find Richard watching him, something completely foreign in his eyes and a pink flush to his face. Neither of them moved for a moment - then Richard rubbed very tentatively against Jeremy’s leg.
Jeremy’s hands tightened their grip on the other man’s shoulders. “What the fuck is this? Is that why you’re a fucking maniac today, because you want --”
“No,” Richard said, a rough edge to his words but still sounding far calmer than he had just seconds before, “I’m not angry because I want.” He breathed deeply before continuing, frustration evident in his voice and blushing cheeks. “I’m angry because I need.” His hips moved again with the emphasis.
Jeremy glanced down again at the movement, then back up to watch Richard’s face. Experimentally, he pressed hard into Richard’s crotch.
Richard squirmed against the wall, a very different kind of groan caught in his throat. “Oh...”
At the sound, Jeremy pushed nearly flush against him, chest to chest, until Richard had to crane his neck to look up at him. “Why not James, then?” Jeremy asked, his voice low and gravelly.
The pink in Richard’s cheeks deepened. “How did you --” Richard stopped mid-sentence at the I-know-everything-you-idiot look on Jeremy’s face. “Right.” He started to roll his eyes, but Jeremy pushed his knee further between his thighs and Richard’s expression of annoyance turned to pleasure. “Oh fuck, more.” He tried to rock his hips into Jeremy’s leg, but there wasn’t enough room between him and the wall.
“Answer me.”
“Are you fucking kidding? This wouldn’t fit into his tidy little world, he’d throw me out the fucking door if I tried.”
“And I won’t?”
Richard let out a breathy chuckle. “This wasn’t exactly planned. But you haven’t yet."
Jeremy smirked a little. “True... Though I’m not sure why,” he mused. Still watching Richard as if he were a test subject, Jeremy roughly rubbed his leg back and forth where Richard’s erection swelled in his jeans.
The friction set Richard squirming again with a whimper building up in the back of his throat. “Please, Jez.”
“Please what? What exactly do you want from me?”
Richard bit his lip and closed his eyes for a moment, head still bent back in the close quarters. “Just help me. That’s all. Please.”
“Okay. I can do that.” Jeremy surged forward, completely pinning Richard back against the wall and grinding his knee up into Richard’s crotch.
Richard fought for breath as the harsh denim and metal teeth of the zip grated against his cock, barely cushioned by the thin fabric of his pants. “Fucking hell.”
“Does it hurt?” Jeremy’s leg didn’t stop moving.
“Yes, fuck,” Richard hissed out between clenched teeth.
There was definitely amusement in Jeremy’s voice when he asked, “Do you want me to stop?”
“God, no, don’t you fucking dare.” Struggling against the wall, Richard managed to hitch himself up a couple of inches so he could move just a little to meet Jeremy’s assault. He gasped at the new angle and his hands scrabbled pointlessly against the wood at his sides.
It was Jeremy’s turn to chuckle at Richard’s response. “You’re still a mouthy little shit even now, up against a fucking wall and begging.” Jeremy sped up his thrusts, his thigh firm and lingering, and he grunted whenever his own growing arousal accidentally pressed against Richard’s, denim to denim.
Richard’s head was bumping steadily into the wall, but he didn’t try to stop it as he bore down on Jeremy’s knee again and again. “Just... come on... almost...,” he huffed out between heaving breaths.
“Already? I knew I was good, but seriously, Richard, I’m flattered.” Jeremy grinned and one of his hands dropped from Richard’s shoulder to his groin, squeezing Richard’s erection strongly through the coarse cotton and jerking twice.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Richard moaned out, instantly arching up into Jeremy’s hand as he came hard in his jeans. When the shudders finished rolling through him, he collapsed back into the wall, panting.
Carefully, Jeremy pulled his hands away and eased his leg out from under Richard. He was about to take a step back to give Richard some air when two hands grabbed for his flies and tried to hold him still. “Ummm,” Jeremy said.
“Shut up for once and let me thank you,” Richard muttered with a smile, unfastening Jeremy’s jeans before pushing a hand inside and pulling out Jeremy’s cock.
“Right, then.” Jeremy leaned in and braced his hands on either side of Richard’s head. Despite his mocking of Richard’s stamina, Jeremy didn’t last long himself with Richard intently pulling him off. Just over a dozen strokes of Richard’s fist and Jeremy came, swearing into Richard’s hair.
There was a moment of silence and regaining of breath, then Richard elbowed Jeremy in the stomach. “Hey. We need to go. It’ll be time to start shooting soon.”
Jeremy pushed himself away from the wall and looked down at Richard. He burst out laughing. “Speaking of shooting...”
Richard looked down at himself and scowled. “You came on my shirt, you bastard!”
“Well you came in your pants like a fucking teenager, so I didn’t think it’d matter much,” Jeremy retorted, still laughing as he adjusted himself in his surprisingly-unsullied jeans. “There’ll be spare clothes in makeup, grab something and get changed.” He smirked. “Just be glad the audience isn’t in yet and we don’t have to worry about bloody continuity. Just James.”
Already walking down the hall to makeup, Richard turned and shot a look at Jeremy. “Don’t say a fucking word to him about this, all right? Not one stupid joke even.”
“For fuck’s sake, Hammond, give me more credit than that. I’ll tell him I roughed you up or something. I’m not a total idiot.” He rolled his eyes when Richard quirked an eyebrow at him. “Shut up, change your clothes, and don’t be a psychotic this time when you come out, all right?”
“Yes, sir,” Richard snorted and left the room.
Once he was out of sight, Jeremy shook his head. “Fucking mentalist,” he grumbled to himself. He was still smirking, though.
END.