Stay with Me
These stories, like "Ar Hyd Y Nos" have their origin in a 'first kiss' meme over at miss_zedem's journal. The eponymous ficlets are hers, while the others are probably best described as a joint effort. With extra thanks to crystalshard for valiant beta-work, as ever.
Setting is 20 years after "Ar Hyd Y Nos" so you may want to read them first...
Dedicated to travels_in_time on her birthday
Title: Stay with me (Trilogy)
Authors: miss_zedem and jadesfire2808
Rating: R (overall)
Characters/Pairings: Jack/Hywel, Jack/Hugh/Marion
Words: ~4,350 (3 ficlets)
Summary: Actions always have consequences.
This follows on from The Wandering Years: Las Vegas.
Stay With Me
Hywel was standing, one hand on the back of the chair for support. With his back to the light, it was hard to make out any expression on his face but his free hand was held out towards Jack. Waiting for him.
"Stay."
Jack hesitated, telling himself he should just leave. This was Hywel, for pity's sake. Not just some random guy.
Ignoring his instincts, he crossed the floor slowly, coming to a halt inches from where Hywel was standing. 'You don't know what you're asking,' he said softly.
'Yes, I do.' Hywel grabbed his hand and pulled him closer, his thumb rubbing soft circles on Jack's wrist. 'And I don't think you want to be alone any more than I do.'
That was certainly true. The thought of going back to that stark room to wait out the rest if their time here was almost more than he could bear.
'I told you, Hywel, I don't take advantage of friends when they're vulnerable.'
Hywel didn't reply; releasing his grip on the chair, he stepped forward unsteadily, bringing his free hand up to brush Jack's cheek lightly. His eyes were wide and questioning, and Jack found himself suddenly unable to meet his gaze.
The kiss when it came was both expected and a surprise. Jack didn't move for a long moment, then he wrapped his arms around Hywel's waist, easing him closer, kissing him slowly. He was still sure this was a bad idea, but as Hywel's hands slid up and into his hair, that no longer seemed to matter.
Several hours later, the phone rang, jolting Jack from his doze. He glanced over at Hywel, before extricating himself from the young man's arms and rolling over to answer it.
'I thought I might find you there.' Hugh's voice was a welcome sound; warm and amused as always, with just the tiniest hint of something Jack didn't want to think about. 'How is he?'
'Sleeping,' Jack said truthfully.
'And you?'
Jack paused. What could he say? He opened his mouth, then closed it again, unwilling and unable to lie to his old friend.
'That's what I thought,' Hugh said softly. There was no bitterness, just a quiet acceptance, which was somehow so much worse. 'Just... Just take care. Of yourself as well as him.'
'Hugh, I'm -'
'It's alright. Really.' There was a slight pause. 'I'll see you when you get back. Bye for now.'
The click of the receiver being replaced at Hugh's end made Jack wince, and he sagged back on the bed, closing his eyes for a moment before replacing his own receiver.
Rolling back to face Hywel, Jack wondered briefly if he should just leave. Then Hywel's eyes fluttered open, meeting his gaze with such warmth and openness, he knew he couldn't.
'Anything wrong?' asked Hywel quietly.
Jack shook his head, smiling. 'No, nothing. Nothing whatsoever.'
The following is set directly after The Wandering Years: Cardiff.
The Whole Truth
"Jack?" Hugh was watching, his face carefully blank.
Hugh and Marion, who never made demands, never made assumptions; who always gave him a roof over his head, a bed to sleep in and a place to rest. Who made this place, this cold, damp city clinging to this stubborn little planet in this backward time-period home. He'd spent too many years on the run not to value a safe haven when he found it.
Smiling apologetically at the girl in the doorway, Jack shook his head. Then he put an arm round Marion, reaching across her so that he had hold of Hugh's shoulder and he let them take him home.
"I'll make some cocoa, shall I?" Marion folded her gloves and carefully placed them on top of her handbag on the dining room table.
"That'd be great, love, thanks." As she passed him, Hugh caught her hand and she gave him a slight smile. Jack busied himself with gathering up coats and taking them into the hall to hang up. By the time he got back, Marion was gone and Hugh was sitting on the sofa, tie and jacket slung over the back of a dining chair.
"You look worn out," Jack observed, gratefully loosening his own tie as he sank into an armchair.
"I'm getting old." Tipping his head back, Hugh sighed. "When did that happen?"
Jack made a scoffing sound, but he'd noticed the differences. The touches of grey at Hugh's temples, the deeper lines on his face. It was pointless trying to deny it and Hugh wouldn't appreciate pointless flattery.
"Creeps up on you, I suppose." Hugh lifted his head a little, enough that he could meet Jack's eye. "You'll be trading me in for a younger model."
And there it was. The thing they'd done such a good job of not talking about, that had just sat back and been ignored since Jack had flown in for the wedding. He'd thought Hugh had been going to ask him when they'd been sitting out in the garden, but he should have known better. That could have caused a fuss in public, which wasn't Hugh's style at all. Only here, at home, safe and private, would he have brought it up.
"What do you want me to say?" Jack asked softly.
"The truth. That's all I ever want to hear."
And the killer of it was, Jack realised as he looked away, that Hugh really meant it. He wanted the truth and nothing but the truth, although possibly not the whole truth.
Choosing his words carefully, Jack said, "I thought he was going to die. In Vegas. There was, well, it doesn't really matter how and why, but I got him back."
"Thank you." Hugh's voice was soft, barely more than a whisper, but Jack shook his head.
"That's where it gets complicated."
Marion brought in three brimming mugs, setting one on the table in front of Jack, then settling on the sofa next to Hugh and looking at him expectantly.
"What did you do this time?" she asked, her lips curling in a half-smile as she blew on her steaming drink.
"How long have you got?"
"All night." Hugh picked up his mug, watching Jack over the rim as he took a sip.
Giving in, Jack reached for his own cocoa, cradling it carefully as he started to talk. "I said I needed Hywel because I needed extra help. I also needed someone I could trust…"
He was still talking a quarter of an hour later, his drink long since gone cold. Marion and Hugh were still looking at him, only their joined hands suggesting any kind of reaction to the more difficult details.
"…and then he asked me to stay," Jack finished, a little lamely. He set the still-full mug down on the table, unsure of himself now that he'd run out of story to tell.
"And so you did," Hugh said slowly. "And you were still there when I rang."
"Yes." There was a ring mark on the table's surface that Jack suddenly found completely fascinating.
"Jack." Something in Marion's voice made him look up, meeting her steady gaze and seeing- what? Understanding? Acceptance? Love? All of that, and maybe just a touch of hurt. "Did you think we weren't expecting this?" She held up a hand to forestall him. "You've been Hywel's hero since he was six years old. And you're not always as discreet as you could be, you know."
Hugh gave a huff of laughter. "I didn't know the word was even in his vocabulary."
"Still." Giving Hugh a reproachful glare, Marion sat forwards. "Hywel's married now, Jack."
"It was once, I swear." It was easier, somehow, with his eyes closed, for Jack to think straight. He hadn't expected Hugh or Marion to shout or throw a tantrum, but their quiet acceptance was unnerving him. "I've done so much travelling since then, trying to stay away, let him get on with his own life. And Vanessa's made it quite clear that she's not-" He broke off, biting his lip.
"Very accommodating?" Hugh suggested, making Jack open his eyes again with a start. Catching Hugh's amused look, he shrugged.
"She made her feelings quite clear on the subject."
"So, now not only did we get traded in for the younger model, we're the rebound when it doesn't work out."
"Leave him alone, Hugh." Marion swatted her husband's shoulder. "You've had your interrogation, leave it be."
Feeling some of the weight lift from his shoulders, Jack stretched a little in the chair. "Well, that was the gentlest interrogation I've been present at. No dark room with just a spotlight, no high powered lamp, no branding irons, no chains."
"Yet."
Marion's peal of laughter was the best thing Jack had heard all day, and he grinned and shook his head, wagging his finger at Hugh.
"I'm a bad influence on you."
"No doubt." But Hugh's eyes were dancing as he looked at Jack, with that mixture of intensity and mischievousness that made him look ten years younger. So it was no surprise when he got to his feet and made a show of looking at his watch. "Getting late," he said, glancing at Marion, who nodded.
Jack shifted in his chair. "I should be going."
"If you say so." Hugh was helping Marion up, and something passed between them that Jack didn't catch. She smiled at him, then headed out of the room, and he heard her climbing the stairs, leaving Jack alone with Hugh.
"I-" Jack began, but Hugh, for the first time that Jack could remember, interrupted him.
"There aren't going to be explanations. It happened. It's probably going to happen again, but I'll be long gone by then and won't care. Just look after him, okay? Vanessa, she's not what he needs, but I love him and he's got to make his own mistakes, even if this is one of them. And even if you were. I just-" Hugh shook his head, running a hand through his hair. "Damnit, Jack, I know what this would have meant to him and I know what it means to you. And I know those are totally different things and if it were anyone else…"
Moving closer, Jack said gently, "I'm sorry."
"I know." To Jack's relief, Hugh smiled. "Whenever we get some outrageous report back from you or the brass are wondering why we don't fire you or lock you up for what you've been doing, and I come home and tell Marion about it, do you know what she says?"
"What does she say, Hugh?" Jack moved closer, relieved when Hugh didn't back away, but looked up at him with a lopsided smile.
"She says 'it's Jack'. And I can't argue with that. And I don't think I want to."
Jack hesitated, unable to think of anything to say, but reaching out automatically, intending to give Hugh's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. Instead, he found himself pulled into a tight hug, Hugh's hands wrapping round his waist and drawing him close. Pressing his face into the smaller man's hair, Jack let himself drift for a moment, breathing in the smell of Hugh's shampoo, feeling the warmth of the body pressed against his, the hands digging into the small of his back, the sense of connection that he'd been missing for oh-so long.
With a slight sigh, Hugh released him, standing back and making a half-hearted attempt to straighten his shirt. Giving up, he started to make his way out of the room, turning in the doorway to look back at Jack.
"You're always going to be welcome here, you know that, don't you? Always."
"I know." Suddenly unable to breathe, Jack swallowed hard.
Hugh shook his head. "One day you're going to give so much of yourself away that there's not going to be anything left." And with that, he disappeared into the hall and Jack heard him start to climb the stairs. After a long moment, in which the house seemed to be holding its breath, Jack gave himself a shake. He collected the three mugs, taking them out to the kitchen and washing them out slowly and carefully, listening to house creaking and the murmur of voices above.
Then he turned out the last of the lights and went to join his friends.
Enough
Hugh had half-expected Jack not to follow him, and he wasn't disappointed, hearing the other man moving about downstairs. By the time he reached the bedroom, Marion was sitting at her dressing table, trying to untangle her hair. He half-smiled as he saw the nightdress she'd chosen, a different one to last night. This one was a shimmering midnight blue, a present from Jack after one of his more exotic trips.
Shaking his head, Hugh started to undo his cuffs as he crossed the room towards her.
"Do you know something I don't?" he asked, laying the cufflinks down on the table next to her jewellery.
"Possibly." She turned, standing and starting to help him with his buttons.
"Nothing new there then." Shaking his head a little, Hugh gave up trying to help, letting her undo his shirt, slipping her hand inside to lightly run her nails down his chest. He half-laughed, lifting her chin to kiss her.
It was returned with unexpected fervour, and Hugh was gasping a little as he drew back. "What was that for?"
"Nothing in particular." After thirty years of marriage, that look in her eyes still thrilled him; the way her mood could shift from playful to serious to passionate again while he was still trying to catch up always left him breathless. She was smiling now, but her look was one of sympathy as she brushed her thumb across his cheek. "I know it's been hard for you."
"You too." Finally shrugging out of his shirt, Hugh folded it across the back of the chair before unbuckling his belt. "I don't think Jack's been having a great time, either."
"No." Marion didn't try to help this time, just standing and watching as he finished undressing, taking his hand as he threw his socks into the laundry basket. "Did you talk to him?"
"I talked at him." Sighing a little, Hugh laid his trousers over the shirt, absently smoothing out the creases. "For all the good it did either of us."
"Can you forgive him?"
"There's nothing to forgive." It was so much easier to explain to Marion, so much easier as she came and put her arms around him, her skin warm against his and her head resting on his shoulder. The words that had stuck in his throat when he'd tried to talk to Jack tumbled out before he could stop them. "I just didn't think it would be so soon. I didn't think we were going to lose him so quickly."
"Shhhh." Drawing back enough to look at him, Marion pressed her finger to his lips. "We haven't lost him, Hugh. It's not like that."
Frustrated at his own inability to explain, Hugh shook his head. "And it's not that simple. He and Hywel-"
"Once, Hugh. When Hywel needed him and it was the only comfort Jack had to offer."
"He's our son."
"He's Jack."
"That's not enough!" Hugh stepped away, freeing himself from her embrace, trying to calm down enough to work out what he was trying to say. Even he wasn't sure any more. "You can't just say that and have it be enough."
"Why not?" There was a faint flush of colour in Marion's cheeks, and the intensity in her voice surprised him. "Do you really think that in all the time that we've- that it's been the three of us, do you think it's only been the three of us?" Taken aback, Hugh barely had time to shake his head before she went on, "Then what difference does it make? He's not like us, Hugh. We knew that. We accepted that. For him…" She trailed off, sighing. "It's different. It's just different."
Sagging, Hugh dropped onto the bed, his earlier frustration draining away, replaced with a deep weariness. "I'm sorry, love." He gave a bitter laugh. "I'm getting old, I suppose."
For answer, Marion came to him, kneeling in front of him, her hands lightly stroking his legs. He let himself lean against her for a moment, pressing their foreheads together as her fingers continued their easy movements, knee to hips and back again, then reaching higher, along his sides and up to his shoulders and neck, soothing and gentling.
"At least you still have most of your hair," she whispered, running her hands over his head.
He gave a snort of laughter and sat back enough to look up at her. "And you still have most of your teeth."
"Cheeky." But she kissed him anyway, and he could feel the vibrations of her laughter, even as her tongue swept over his lips and she deepened the kiss. He'd wrapped his arms round her, intending to pull her up onto the bed with him, when there was a muffled cough from the doorway.
"Why do you guys always start without me?"
Marion laughed properly this time, ruffling Hugh's hair as she looked across at Jack.
"Because you were taking your time," she told him, but Hugh felt her hands grip his shoulders a little more tightly. For all her relaxed confidence, she was about as calm as he was.
"Just wanted to make sure I'd be welcome."
The words were apparently meant for both of them, but it was Hugh that Jack was looking at, Hugh that he was waiting for. For an instant, Hugh considered refusing, having Jack leave, just being done with the whole thing. He looked away, feeling Marion tense in his arms, hearing her slight intake of breath and he tightened his embrace momentarily, trying to reassure her. This wasn't about what he wanted or didn't want. This was about being sure. Being sure that this what they needed, that it wasn't going to make things worse than they already were.
When he turned back, Jack was still watching him, calmly and steadily, meeting his eye without flinching. This was the real Jack, the man that Hugh so rarely saw outside this room, who gave without asking and took his pleasure in giving. There was no pretence, no defensiveness, nothing but Jack. Nothing but that look that always made Hugh's heart leap and killed all protests before they could make themselves heard.
He didn't speak, but then Jack never needed words. He crossed the small room in two long strides, dropping to his knees at Hugh's feet and reaching up to pull him into a long kiss. It was forgiveness and apology, longing and regret and passion, always that passion that made Hugh's head spin and his pulse race. Almost before he knew it, the three of them were moving, Jack rising and pushing him back onto the bed, pulling Marion with them.
There was an urgent familiarity in their movements, Jack only tearing his mouth from Hugh's to curse as he struggled with his belt, Marion giggling and taking Jack's place, not giving Hugh the chance to move as her hands ghosted over his sides, too firmly to tickle but lightly enough to make him moan and try to pull her closer. She wriggled away, breaking the kiss as Jack finally finished wrestling with his clothes and helped Hugh with the last of his. One hand still on Hugh's shoulder, Jack used the other to help her pull her nightdress over her head, hand skimming over her shoulders, her breasts and down her stomach as he caught her mouth in a kiss.
"My favourite," Jack whispered, trailing the blue silk down Hugh's body in a teasing stroke before tossing it aside and shifting closer again, turning his head so that he could meet Marion's lips.
Watching them, Hugh groaned, feeling Jack's body hard against his right hand side, and Marion's softer form as she slipped away from Jack to lie against Hugh again, hand trailing almost lazily up and down his chest and her lips pressed gently to his neck. He felt a renewed sense of wonder wash through him as she turned him towards her, kissing him again as he shifted onto his side. This never got familiar, never became tired or routine, not with Marion's infectious joy and Jack's seemingly endless supply of energy. This was where he wanted to be, finally free to take hold of Marion, pull her closer even as Jack moved behind him, hands joining Marion's in touching, exploring, holding him.
Lifting himself up on one elbow, Jack leaned over, and Hugh was struck by a surge of self-consciousness as the other man looked down at them. It seemed absurd, comparing himself to someone who was never going to change and even more absurd to compare himself to someone twenty years his junior, someone he'd always known was going to take his place. But the thought was there now, the strange combination of jealousy and sadness that had overtaken him when he'd put down the phone to Jack over a year ago, having had all his suspicions confirmed. It seemed foolish to think that Jack would still be here out of anything but pity, one last sympathetic gesture before returning to his 'younger model'.
But then Jack's hand was on his shoulder, turning him again, pressing more kisses on his stomach, his chest, his neck before covering Hugh's body with his own, and by the time their mouths met, Hugh found it hard to remember what he'd worried about. Because Jack shivered when Hugh touched him, breaking off the kiss to gasp as Marion's lips traced their own path across his back and shoulders. They knew Jack, understood him, accepted him. They'd shared their love with him, without trying to possess him, and he'd returned their affection with passion. And Hugh might not have been as young as he used to be, but he was willing to bet that he more than made up for it in experience.
"What is it?" Jack lifted his head, one lock of hair falling into his eyes as Hugh smiled up at him.
"Nothing." Bending one leg enough to get his foot flat on the bed, Hugh shifted a little away from Marion, who caught the silent signal and drew back enough to let him move.
"Wha-" There was no chance for Jack to finish the word as Hugh flipped him over, unable to suppress a smile as Jack let out a muffled yelp of surprise, head thrown back as Hugh made a serious assault on his neck and collar-bone. "Never should have taught you that," he murmured and Hugh chuckled against his skin. The body beneath his hadn't significantly changed in twenty years, but he always felt as though he was coming to it anew, always searching for the right touch to the right place that would make the other man tremble and cry out, losing just a little of that endearing arrogance.
Jack yelped again as Marion's hand slipped between them, stroking and caressing and making Hugh temporarily forget what he was doing, just resting his forehead on Jack's chest and trying to breathe against the waves of desire that were almost overwhelming him. He really wasn't as young as he used to be, he realised with a wry smile. Back in the day, none of them would have had much sleep and Marion would have sent him and Jack off to work with a smile and an extra-large thermos of coffee. But it had been a long day, a long year and a long time since then.
And so he lifted his head, turning enough to pull Marion into a long, slow-burning kiss and freeing one hand to trail down her body, pushing and probing, making her buck against him. At Jack's urging, Hugh slipped off him, never stilling the hand that was making Marion cling to his shoulders in near-desperation. He was getting caught in her wake, body moving to her pace as he took his hand away, gripping her hip instead and guiding her to him. Although he hadn't forgotten Jack, he still jumped as fingers pressed into him, his sudden movement making Marion cry out, shredding the little control that he'd had left. The world narrowed to sensations, heat and light and touch and nothing else mattered beyond Marion's stifled whimpers and Jack's huffs of breath, warm on his back, and his own cries as he lost himself to their rhythm.
It was Marion who stirred first, gently lifting her leg from across Hugh's and Jack's and rolling away from them, a gentle, sleepy smile curling her lips. Instead of moving away, Jack tightened his grip across Hugh's chest, nuzzling and nipping at the back of his neck.
Hugh snorted. "Might as well have got ourselves a cat."
"Show me a cat that can do what we just did and I'll agree with you." Jack might have been aiming for indignant, but mostly he just sounded contented, which did little to dispel the cat comparison.
"Fair point." Carefully, Hugh untangled himself from Jack's arms enough to help Marion pull the covers back and over them. Then he settled back again, her head on his shoulder and Jack leaning against his other side, arm wrapped around them both. The sheets were going to need changing again in the morning, but then they always did and he doubted Jack was going to worry about - or even feel - any discomfort right now and he was the one lying closest to the damage.
There was no point waiting for Jack to fall asleep. He rarely did, and Hugh had learned to watch out for those times, to anticipate and soothe the nightmares that always followed. Right now though, he barely had the energy to shift Marion's head to a more comfortable position and give Jack's hand a gentle squeeze, feeling it returned, together with a light brush of lips against his temples, as he let himself drift away.
Setting is 20 years after "Ar Hyd Y Nos" so you may want to read them first...
Dedicated to travels_in_time on her birthday
Title: Stay with me (Trilogy)
Authors: miss_zedem and jadesfire2808
Rating: R (overall)
Characters/Pairings: Jack/Hywel, Jack/Hugh/Marion
Words: ~4,350 (3 ficlets)
Summary: Actions always have consequences.
This follows on from The Wandering Years: Las Vegas.
Stay With Me
Hywel was standing, one hand on the back of the chair for support. With his back to the light, it was hard to make out any expression on his face but his free hand was held out towards Jack. Waiting for him.
"Stay."
Jack hesitated, telling himself he should just leave. This was Hywel, for pity's sake. Not just some random guy.
Ignoring his instincts, he crossed the floor slowly, coming to a halt inches from where Hywel was standing. 'You don't know what you're asking,' he said softly.
'Yes, I do.' Hywel grabbed his hand and pulled him closer, his thumb rubbing soft circles on Jack's wrist. 'And I don't think you want to be alone any more than I do.'
That was certainly true. The thought of going back to that stark room to wait out the rest if their time here was almost more than he could bear.
'I told you, Hywel, I don't take advantage of friends when they're vulnerable.'
Hywel didn't reply; releasing his grip on the chair, he stepped forward unsteadily, bringing his free hand up to brush Jack's cheek lightly. His eyes were wide and questioning, and Jack found himself suddenly unable to meet his gaze.
The kiss when it came was both expected and a surprise. Jack didn't move for a long moment, then he wrapped his arms around Hywel's waist, easing him closer, kissing him slowly. He was still sure this was a bad idea, but as Hywel's hands slid up and into his hair, that no longer seemed to matter.
Several hours later, the phone rang, jolting Jack from his doze. He glanced over at Hywel, before extricating himself from the young man's arms and rolling over to answer it.
'I thought I might find you there.' Hugh's voice was a welcome sound; warm and amused as always, with just the tiniest hint of something Jack didn't want to think about. 'How is he?'
'Sleeping,' Jack said truthfully.
'And you?'
Jack paused. What could he say? He opened his mouth, then closed it again, unwilling and unable to lie to his old friend.
'That's what I thought,' Hugh said softly. There was no bitterness, just a quiet acceptance, which was somehow so much worse. 'Just... Just take care. Of yourself as well as him.'
'Hugh, I'm -'
'It's alright. Really.' There was a slight pause. 'I'll see you when you get back. Bye for now.'
The click of the receiver being replaced at Hugh's end made Jack wince, and he sagged back on the bed, closing his eyes for a moment before replacing his own receiver.
Rolling back to face Hywel, Jack wondered briefly if he should just leave. Then Hywel's eyes fluttered open, meeting his gaze with such warmth and openness, he knew he couldn't.
'Anything wrong?' asked Hywel quietly.
Jack shook his head, smiling. 'No, nothing. Nothing whatsoever.'
The following is set directly after The Wandering Years: Cardiff.
The Whole Truth
"Jack?" Hugh was watching, his face carefully blank.
Hugh and Marion, who never made demands, never made assumptions; who always gave him a roof over his head, a bed to sleep in and a place to rest. Who made this place, this cold, damp city clinging to this stubborn little planet in this backward time-period home. He'd spent too many years on the run not to value a safe haven when he found it.
Smiling apologetically at the girl in the doorway, Jack shook his head. Then he put an arm round Marion, reaching across her so that he had hold of Hugh's shoulder and he let them take him home.
"I'll make some cocoa, shall I?" Marion folded her gloves and carefully placed them on top of her handbag on the dining room table.
"That'd be great, love, thanks." As she passed him, Hugh caught her hand and she gave him a slight smile. Jack busied himself with gathering up coats and taking them into the hall to hang up. By the time he got back, Marion was gone and Hugh was sitting on the sofa, tie and jacket slung over the back of a dining chair.
"You look worn out," Jack observed, gratefully loosening his own tie as he sank into an armchair.
"I'm getting old." Tipping his head back, Hugh sighed. "When did that happen?"
Jack made a scoffing sound, but he'd noticed the differences. The touches of grey at Hugh's temples, the deeper lines on his face. It was pointless trying to deny it and Hugh wouldn't appreciate pointless flattery.
"Creeps up on you, I suppose." Hugh lifted his head a little, enough that he could meet Jack's eye. "You'll be trading me in for a younger model."
And there it was. The thing they'd done such a good job of not talking about, that had just sat back and been ignored since Jack had flown in for the wedding. He'd thought Hugh had been going to ask him when they'd been sitting out in the garden, but he should have known better. That could have caused a fuss in public, which wasn't Hugh's style at all. Only here, at home, safe and private, would he have brought it up.
"What do you want me to say?" Jack asked softly.
"The truth. That's all I ever want to hear."
And the killer of it was, Jack realised as he looked away, that Hugh really meant it. He wanted the truth and nothing but the truth, although possibly not the whole truth.
Choosing his words carefully, Jack said, "I thought he was going to die. In Vegas. There was, well, it doesn't really matter how and why, but I got him back."
"Thank you." Hugh's voice was soft, barely more than a whisper, but Jack shook his head.
"That's where it gets complicated."
Marion brought in three brimming mugs, setting one on the table in front of Jack, then settling on the sofa next to Hugh and looking at him expectantly.
"What did you do this time?" she asked, her lips curling in a half-smile as she blew on her steaming drink.
"How long have you got?"
"All night." Hugh picked up his mug, watching Jack over the rim as he took a sip.
Giving in, Jack reached for his own cocoa, cradling it carefully as he started to talk. "I said I needed Hywel because I needed extra help. I also needed someone I could trust…"
He was still talking a quarter of an hour later, his drink long since gone cold. Marion and Hugh were still looking at him, only their joined hands suggesting any kind of reaction to the more difficult details.
"…and then he asked me to stay," Jack finished, a little lamely. He set the still-full mug down on the table, unsure of himself now that he'd run out of story to tell.
"And so you did," Hugh said slowly. "And you were still there when I rang."
"Yes." There was a ring mark on the table's surface that Jack suddenly found completely fascinating.
"Jack." Something in Marion's voice made him look up, meeting her steady gaze and seeing- what? Understanding? Acceptance? Love? All of that, and maybe just a touch of hurt. "Did you think we weren't expecting this?" She held up a hand to forestall him. "You've been Hywel's hero since he was six years old. And you're not always as discreet as you could be, you know."
Hugh gave a huff of laughter. "I didn't know the word was even in his vocabulary."
"Still." Giving Hugh a reproachful glare, Marion sat forwards. "Hywel's married now, Jack."
"It was once, I swear." It was easier, somehow, with his eyes closed, for Jack to think straight. He hadn't expected Hugh or Marion to shout or throw a tantrum, but their quiet acceptance was unnerving him. "I've done so much travelling since then, trying to stay away, let him get on with his own life. And Vanessa's made it quite clear that she's not-" He broke off, biting his lip.
"Very accommodating?" Hugh suggested, making Jack open his eyes again with a start. Catching Hugh's amused look, he shrugged.
"She made her feelings quite clear on the subject."
"So, now not only did we get traded in for the younger model, we're the rebound when it doesn't work out."
"Leave him alone, Hugh." Marion swatted her husband's shoulder. "You've had your interrogation, leave it be."
Feeling some of the weight lift from his shoulders, Jack stretched a little in the chair. "Well, that was the gentlest interrogation I've been present at. No dark room with just a spotlight, no high powered lamp, no branding irons, no chains."
"Yet."
Marion's peal of laughter was the best thing Jack had heard all day, and he grinned and shook his head, wagging his finger at Hugh.
"I'm a bad influence on you."
"No doubt." But Hugh's eyes were dancing as he looked at Jack, with that mixture of intensity and mischievousness that made him look ten years younger. So it was no surprise when he got to his feet and made a show of looking at his watch. "Getting late," he said, glancing at Marion, who nodded.
Jack shifted in his chair. "I should be going."
"If you say so." Hugh was helping Marion up, and something passed between them that Jack didn't catch. She smiled at him, then headed out of the room, and he heard her climbing the stairs, leaving Jack alone with Hugh.
"I-" Jack began, but Hugh, for the first time that Jack could remember, interrupted him.
"There aren't going to be explanations. It happened. It's probably going to happen again, but I'll be long gone by then and won't care. Just look after him, okay? Vanessa, she's not what he needs, but I love him and he's got to make his own mistakes, even if this is one of them. And even if you were. I just-" Hugh shook his head, running a hand through his hair. "Damnit, Jack, I know what this would have meant to him and I know what it means to you. And I know those are totally different things and if it were anyone else…"
Moving closer, Jack said gently, "I'm sorry."
"I know." To Jack's relief, Hugh smiled. "Whenever we get some outrageous report back from you or the brass are wondering why we don't fire you or lock you up for what you've been doing, and I come home and tell Marion about it, do you know what she says?"
"What does she say, Hugh?" Jack moved closer, relieved when Hugh didn't back away, but looked up at him with a lopsided smile.
"She says 'it's Jack'. And I can't argue with that. And I don't think I want to."
Jack hesitated, unable to think of anything to say, but reaching out automatically, intending to give Hugh's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. Instead, he found himself pulled into a tight hug, Hugh's hands wrapping round his waist and drawing him close. Pressing his face into the smaller man's hair, Jack let himself drift for a moment, breathing in the smell of Hugh's shampoo, feeling the warmth of the body pressed against his, the hands digging into the small of his back, the sense of connection that he'd been missing for oh-so long.
With a slight sigh, Hugh released him, standing back and making a half-hearted attempt to straighten his shirt. Giving up, he started to make his way out of the room, turning in the doorway to look back at Jack.
"You're always going to be welcome here, you know that, don't you? Always."
"I know." Suddenly unable to breathe, Jack swallowed hard.
Hugh shook his head. "One day you're going to give so much of yourself away that there's not going to be anything left." And with that, he disappeared into the hall and Jack heard him start to climb the stairs. After a long moment, in which the house seemed to be holding its breath, Jack gave himself a shake. He collected the three mugs, taking them out to the kitchen and washing them out slowly and carefully, listening to house creaking and the murmur of voices above.
Then he turned out the last of the lights and went to join his friends.
Enough
Hugh had half-expected Jack not to follow him, and he wasn't disappointed, hearing the other man moving about downstairs. By the time he reached the bedroom, Marion was sitting at her dressing table, trying to untangle her hair. He half-smiled as he saw the nightdress she'd chosen, a different one to last night. This one was a shimmering midnight blue, a present from Jack after one of his more exotic trips.
Shaking his head, Hugh started to undo his cuffs as he crossed the room towards her.
"Do you know something I don't?" he asked, laying the cufflinks down on the table next to her jewellery.
"Possibly." She turned, standing and starting to help him with his buttons.
"Nothing new there then." Shaking his head a little, Hugh gave up trying to help, letting her undo his shirt, slipping her hand inside to lightly run her nails down his chest. He half-laughed, lifting her chin to kiss her.
It was returned with unexpected fervour, and Hugh was gasping a little as he drew back. "What was that for?"
"Nothing in particular." After thirty years of marriage, that look in her eyes still thrilled him; the way her mood could shift from playful to serious to passionate again while he was still trying to catch up always left him breathless. She was smiling now, but her look was one of sympathy as she brushed her thumb across his cheek. "I know it's been hard for you."
"You too." Finally shrugging out of his shirt, Hugh folded it across the back of the chair before unbuckling his belt. "I don't think Jack's been having a great time, either."
"No." Marion didn't try to help this time, just standing and watching as he finished undressing, taking his hand as he threw his socks into the laundry basket. "Did you talk to him?"
"I talked at him." Sighing a little, Hugh laid his trousers over the shirt, absently smoothing out the creases. "For all the good it did either of us."
"Can you forgive him?"
"There's nothing to forgive." It was so much easier to explain to Marion, so much easier as she came and put her arms around him, her skin warm against his and her head resting on his shoulder. The words that had stuck in his throat when he'd tried to talk to Jack tumbled out before he could stop them. "I just didn't think it would be so soon. I didn't think we were going to lose him so quickly."
"Shhhh." Drawing back enough to look at him, Marion pressed her finger to his lips. "We haven't lost him, Hugh. It's not like that."
Frustrated at his own inability to explain, Hugh shook his head. "And it's not that simple. He and Hywel-"
"Once, Hugh. When Hywel needed him and it was the only comfort Jack had to offer."
"He's our son."
"He's Jack."
"That's not enough!" Hugh stepped away, freeing himself from her embrace, trying to calm down enough to work out what he was trying to say. Even he wasn't sure any more. "You can't just say that and have it be enough."
"Why not?" There was a faint flush of colour in Marion's cheeks, and the intensity in her voice surprised him. "Do you really think that in all the time that we've- that it's been the three of us, do you think it's only been the three of us?" Taken aback, Hugh barely had time to shake his head before she went on, "Then what difference does it make? He's not like us, Hugh. We knew that. We accepted that. For him…" She trailed off, sighing. "It's different. It's just different."
Sagging, Hugh dropped onto the bed, his earlier frustration draining away, replaced with a deep weariness. "I'm sorry, love." He gave a bitter laugh. "I'm getting old, I suppose."
For answer, Marion came to him, kneeling in front of him, her hands lightly stroking his legs. He let himself lean against her for a moment, pressing their foreheads together as her fingers continued their easy movements, knee to hips and back again, then reaching higher, along his sides and up to his shoulders and neck, soothing and gentling.
"At least you still have most of your hair," she whispered, running her hands over his head.
He gave a snort of laughter and sat back enough to look up at her. "And you still have most of your teeth."
"Cheeky." But she kissed him anyway, and he could feel the vibrations of her laughter, even as her tongue swept over his lips and she deepened the kiss. He'd wrapped his arms round her, intending to pull her up onto the bed with him, when there was a muffled cough from the doorway.
"Why do you guys always start without me?"
Marion laughed properly this time, ruffling Hugh's hair as she looked across at Jack.
"Because you were taking your time," she told him, but Hugh felt her hands grip his shoulders a little more tightly. For all her relaxed confidence, she was about as calm as he was.
"Just wanted to make sure I'd be welcome."
The words were apparently meant for both of them, but it was Hugh that Jack was looking at, Hugh that he was waiting for. For an instant, Hugh considered refusing, having Jack leave, just being done with the whole thing. He looked away, feeling Marion tense in his arms, hearing her slight intake of breath and he tightened his embrace momentarily, trying to reassure her. This wasn't about what he wanted or didn't want. This was about being sure. Being sure that this what they needed, that it wasn't going to make things worse than they already were.
When he turned back, Jack was still watching him, calmly and steadily, meeting his eye without flinching. This was the real Jack, the man that Hugh so rarely saw outside this room, who gave without asking and took his pleasure in giving. There was no pretence, no defensiveness, nothing but Jack. Nothing but that look that always made Hugh's heart leap and killed all protests before they could make themselves heard.
He didn't speak, but then Jack never needed words. He crossed the small room in two long strides, dropping to his knees at Hugh's feet and reaching up to pull him into a long kiss. It was forgiveness and apology, longing and regret and passion, always that passion that made Hugh's head spin and his pulse race. Almost before he knew it, the three of them were moving, Jack rising and pushing him back onto the bed, pulling Marion with them.
There was an urgent familiarity in their movements, Jack only tearing his mouth from Hugh's to curse as he struggled with his belt, Marion giggling and taking Jack's place, not giving Hugh the chance to move as her hands ghosted over his sides, too firmly to tickle but lightly enough to make him moan and try to pull her closer. She wriggled away, breaking the kiss as Jack finally finished wrestling with his clothes and helped Hugh with the last of his. One hand still on Hugh's shoulder, Jack used the other to help her pull her nightdress over her head, hand skimming over her shoulders, her breasts and down her stomach as he caught her mouth in a kiss.
"My favourite," Jack whispered, trailing the blue silk down Hugh's body in a teasing stroke before tossing it aside and shifting closer again, turning his head so that he could meet Marion's lips.
Watching them, Hugh groaned, feeling Jack's body hard against his right hand side, and Marion's softer form as she slipped away from Jack to lie against Hugh again, hand trailing almost lazily up and down his chest and her lips pressed gently to his neck. He felt a renewed sense of wonder wash through him as she turned him towards her, kissing him again as he shifted onto his side. This never got familiar, never became tired or routine, not with Marion's infectious joy and Jack's seemingly endless supply of energy. This was where he wanted to be, finally free to take hold of Marion, pull her closer even as Jack moved behind him, hands joining Marion's in touching, exploring, holding him.
Lifting himself up on one elbow, Jack leaned over, and Hugh was struck by a surge of self-consciousness as the other man looked down at them. It seemed absurd, comparing himself to someone who was never going to change and even more absurd to compare himself to someone twenty years his junior, someone he'd always known was going to take his place. But the thought was there now, the strange combination of jealousy and sadness that had overtaken him when he'd put down the phone to Jack over a year ago, having had all his suspicions confirmed. It seemed foolish to think that Jack would still be here out of anything but pity, one last sympathetic gesture before returning to his 'younger model'.
But then Jack's hand was on his shoulder, turning him again, pressing more kisses on his stomach, his chest, his neck before covering Hugh's body with his own, and by the time their mouths met, Hugh found it hard to remember what he'd worried about. Because Jack shivered when Hugh touched him, breaking off the kiss to gasp as Marion's lips traced their own path across his back and shoulders. They knew Jack, understood him, accepted him. They'd shared their love with him, without trying to possess him, and he'd returned their affection with passion. And Hugh might not have been as young as he used to be, but he was willing to bet that he more than made up for it in experience.
"What is it?" Jack lifted his head, one lock of hair falling into his eyes as Hugh smiled up at him.
"Nothing." Bending one leg enough to get his foot flat on the bed, Hugh shifted a little away from Marion, who caught the silent signal and drew back enough to let him move.
"Wha-" There was no chance for Jack to finish the word as Hugh flipped him over, unable to suppress a smile as Jack let out a muffled yelp of surprise, head thrown back as Hugh made a serious assault on his neck and collar-bone. "Never should have taught you that," he murmured and Hugh chuckled against his skin. The body beneath his hadn't significantly changed in twenty years, but he always felt as though he was coming to it anew, always searching for the right touch to the right place that would make the other man tremble and cry out, losing just a little of that endearing arrogance.
Jack yelped again as Marion's hand slipped between them, stroking and caressing and making Hugh temporarily forget what he was doing, just resting his forehead on Jack's chest and trying to breathe against the waves of desire that were almost overwhelming him. He really wasn't as young as he used to be, he realised with a wry smile. Back in the day, none of them would have had much sleep and Marion would have sent him and Jack off to work with a smile and an extra-large thermos of coffee. But it had been a long day, a long year and a long time since then.
And so he lifted his head, turning enough to pull Marion into a long, slow-burning kiss and freeing one hand to trail down her body, pushing and probing, making her buck against him. At Jack's urging, Hugh slipped off him, never stilling the hand that was making Marion cling to his shoulders in near-desperation. He was getting caught in her wake, body moving to her pace as he took his hand away, gripping her hip instead and guiding her to him. Although he hadn't forgotten Jack, he still jumped as fingers pressed into him, his sudden movement making Marion cry out, shredding the little control that he'd had left. The world narrowed to sensations, heat and light and touch and nothing else mattered beyond Marion's stifled whimpers and Jack's huffs of breath, warm on his back, and his own cries as he lost himself to their rhythm.
It was Marion who stirred first, gently lifting her leg from across Hugh's and Jack's and rolling away from them, a gentle, sleepy smile curling her lips. Instead of moving away, Jack tightened his grip across Hugh's chest, nuzzling and nipping at the back of his neck.
Hugh snorted. "Might as well have got ourselves a cat."
"Show me a cat that can do what we just did and I'll agree with you." Jack might have been aiming for indignant, but mostly he just sounded contented, which did little to dispel the cat comparison.
"Fair point." Carefully, Hugh untangled himself from Jack's arms enough to help Marion pull the covers back and over them. Then he settled back again, her head on his shoulder and Jack leaning against his other side, arm wrapped around them both. The sheets were going to need changing again in the morning, but then they always did and he doubted Jack was going to worry about - or even feel - any discomfort right now and he was the one lying closest to the damage.
There was no point waiting for Jack to fall asleep. He rarely did, and Hugh had learned to watch out for those times, to anticipate and soothe the nightmares that always followed. Right now though, he barely had the energy to shift Marion's head to a more comfortable position and give Jack's hand a gentle squeeze, feeling it returned, together with a light brush of lips against his temples, as he let himself drift away.