Fic: Monumentally Screwed | SR/etc | Richard/Jimmy | PG-13 | 1/1
Title: With Fortune's Hand III: Four Relationships That No One Else Knew About: Monumentally Screwed
Fandom: SR/etc
Pairing: Richard/Jimmy (w/past Richard/Lois; side Clark/Lois, & few surprise unrequited pairings)
Rating: PG-13 (with a few f-bombs)
Word Count: 2,559
Prompts: For the Superman Movieverse Pairings Challenge: The Bullpen, Mistake, Desk, Office Party, Broken; For hc_bingo: Depression; For the 2010 DCU Free For All Winter Holidays Challenge: Mistletoe, Egg Nog/Hot Cocoa
Summary: Richard was sure the egg nog hadn't been this spiked when he'd had his first mug.
Disclaimer: DC and WB own everything. The schmucks.
Author's Notes: Second in this part of the series; follows He Does Things Like That. This one happens just a few months after the end of Aftermath, with big spoilers for the main story. All you really need to know is that Clark and Lois are together now, and Richard took his and Lois's break-up pretty badly at first. Also, I accidentally ordered this part of the series so that this one gives away everything for a future story in the series (that actually happened during an altered scene from SR). Heh. And yes, this is official Aftermath canon, so, angst warning.
Monumentally Screwed
Richard was sure the egg nog hadn't been this spiked when he'd had his first mug. Heat climbing up the sides of his face, he blinked and stared down into the creamy liquid. It looked... thinner than it had originally.
“You look pretty sloshed.”
Lifting his head slowly, he blinked again, finding Jimmy gazing at him with wide eyes, his own cheeks flushed pink. “Um,” he said, with nothing to really follow the statement. His brain felt like molasses as his vision started to swim with the sparkle of the lights and garland strung up all over the bullpen.
Jimmy frowned. “How much of that have you had? You know Gil dumped almost a whole bottle of rum in there, right?”
From somewhere deep inside, a barking laugh fought its way out of him, and he shook his head lazily, “Don't blame him, after the year we've all had.” His focus pulled across the room of its own accord, straight to the one person whose return seemed to have completely upended Richard's world. It wasn't fair.
A nod of agreement as Jimmy took a long draw off his own drink, following Richard's gaze to the other side of the bullpen where the annual Planet holiday party was in full swing, a few people so drunk already that they were slow dancing to Jingle Bell Rock. “A lot's changed, hasn't it?”
“I'd say that's an understatement.” And it was. It was probably the understatement of the millennium. Not only had his family dissolved, but he'd sold the house on Riverside two weeks ago, and only just a few days ago sold his sea plane to an enthusiastic buyer that he couldn't be bothered to be happy for. Everything but his job was completely gone.
And watching Clark kiss Lois under the mistletoe, the pair sharing their first Christmas as a newly-married couple, was the icing on the cake. Richard suddenly couldn't help the nausea that rose up in a wave from his gut at the sight.
With a hasty retreat and a very confused friend left in his wake, he only barely made it to the men's room in time to lose a stomach full of rum-spiked nog and a couple of cookies into a toilet. The burn of the alcohol and stomach acid in his throat and nostrils left after he was done heaving sent him straight over to the sinks to try to clean up and wash the taste and scent away.
Okay, so maybe it hadn't been the sight of his former fiancee and his rival-friend, Clark was his friend now-that brought all that back up. Dammit, Gil.
“Hey, you okay?” a voice surprised him from the bathroom door.
Richard didn't even manage to hide his startle at Jimmy's entrance, the younger man's hand falling gently on his back. “No,” he answered honestly, before splashing more water on his face. “No, I'm not.” Gladly accepting the paper towels Jimmy passed him, he scrubbed his face clean of any remaining sick, ignoring the way his vision insisted on swimming from the liquor. “Should've known better than to drink so much.”
Jimmy let out a huff of a laugh. “Haven't seen you like this since our trip to Washington. C'mon, you should change. It'll get the rest of the smell off.”
Pushing up from the sink, Richard winced at the memory of that horrible week. Running off to cover the surprise G8 conference when his personal life was imploding hadn't exactly been a brilliant plan. Alternately getting smashed and hopped up on coffee to get through the entire disaster had been an even worse idea.
He'd been handling things so much better since then, though, had decided to put his personal hell aside because Lois and Jason had needed him to. Because even Clark had needed him to. And he liked Clark, genuinely. Things were getting easier.
Until he'd had to sell his plane. And had to come to this party. And drank Gil's damned spiked egg nog.
At least he'd gotten some of tonight's mistake out of his system; with a little work, he might not even be hung over in the morning. Maybe.
But first he had to get changed, like Jimmy suggested. Letting his friend usher him back into the bullpen and across to his office, Richard tried to put on his best fake smile, nodding at a few staffers along the way. They didn't have to know he'd been sick. Even if Lois, Clark, and Perry undoubtedly would.
Closing the door behind them in the dimly lit office, Jimmy flipped the privacy blinds closed as Richard went straight to the tiny wardrobe closet and pulled out a clean tee and dress shirt. “Hope nobody notices we're missing,” the younger man said with a lighter laugh. “After last year's Christmas party, the rumor mill didn't ease off of people till almost June!”
But Richard was too busy struggling to get out of his dirty shirt to quite register the absurdity that Jimmy was suggesting. Stupid cuff buttons; his fingertips felt like hams trying to work them open.
“Yeah, rumor mill,” he said absently, finally giving up and yanking the shirt off inside-out over his hand, popping the button in the process. “Aha!” he cried out triumphantly.
Only, he didn't figure on the motion yanking his own weight off balance, and his feet seemed to be tangled together as his body spun, no way to save the fall as the room suddenly lurched sideways, and-
With a huff of breath being driven out of his lungs, Richard realized he'd fallen into Jimmy and shoved him up against the desk, was staring right into his eyes.
Eyes that weren't so much laughing anymore.
Richard felt caught between utter drunkenness and total clarity at the surprise of Jimmy's warmth against him, through his thin undershirt, and he let himself be supported by the his friend, by the unexpected solid strength in his slight frame.
The tense shock of the moment seemed to drag on for eternity, as Richard found himself clinging to Jimmy, fisting his hands in his shirt.
Jimmy had been there for him the last time he fell, too, in Washington. Only that hadn't been so literal. Still, he was the one that had picked Richard up, dusted him off, and put him back in working order when he was an utter mess.
“Why?” he asked, voice low. “Why are you taking care of me? Don't deserve it.”
Dragging his pained-when did it become pained?-gaze away, Jimmy swallowed. “Not the only one that had a rough year, you know.”
And Richard glanced in the direction of the bullpen briefly, taking a shaky breath as the room wobbled just a little around him, Jimmy's hands tightening around his biceps to keep him steady. “Clark steal someone from you, too?”
“What? No!” Jimmy was quick to assert, bringing his gaze back up. “He, he-”
But the rest of the sentence was lost to a whimper low in his throat, full of an anguish that Richard knew all too well. It was the despair of lost hope, of a dream torn to shreds. It was-
Oh.
“Thought you and Polly were a... a thing now,” he said, grasping at straws, giving Jimmy an out if he wanted it.
Jimmy only made a face, shaking his head slightly. “Not even remotely.”
A trembling laugh escaping him, Richard tried to push himself up to standing, and only succeeded in falling more closely against his friend. Damn Gil. Damn egg nog.
“Whoa,” Jimmy said gently, propping him up again, or at least trying to. Pretty clear by that point that they were both smashed.
'Cept Jimmy was better at hiding it. At hiding a lot of things, apparently.
And he was so very warm, pressed against Richard from chest to knees.
Why hadn't he ever seen? Why didn't Jimmy ever tell him? And-
“Why has everybody gotta be in love with Clark?” he finally whined, dropping his head on Jimmy's shoulder with a soft thud as the realization worked its way through the molasses in his brain. He felt Jimmy sigh, his chest dipping with the exhalation, the breath hot against his neck.
“Doesn't matter now, anyway. They were always gonna be together.”
Richard tensed at the remark, hating how true it was, how true it had always been.
“Yeah,” he agreed. “They were. Just wish somebody'd warned me.”
Jimmy's arms slipped around his back, squeezing gently. “Didn't know Clark was coming back. And I'd... hoped....”
A long breath, and Richard felt himself sink into his friend's embrace, nuzzling into Jimmy's neck. “How did we wind up so monumentally screwed?”
Jimmy laughed at that, shaking them both. “Wish I knew.”
Richard wished there were answers, too, but he knew damn well there weren't. It was just too much, having his life turned upside down, knowing Jimmy hadn't really had it any easier.
But being able to get all this off his chest was such a relief. That Jimmy had his back, the only person that hadn't thrown him under the bus in all this mess, was such a welcome feeling. As was just being held by someone, by anyone, since everything had gone to hell. It was too good, too much, the entirety of it suddenly overwhelming beneath the haze of rum, and... and he couldn't help drawing back just enough to see that anguished look still heavy in Jimmy's eyes, before surging forward to kiss him.
And why not? Why not take advantage of the moment, of the dud of a hand they'd been dealt, and do... something with their shattered remains? It wasn't like Richard had never been with a guy before, anyway, not that anyone other than Lois knew it. So why not do this?
Almost surprisingly, Jimmy pulled him in tighter, responding eagerly to the hot kiss, and leaned back until he was sliding onto Richard's desk, hauling him even closer.
There was nowhere to go but forward, so forward Richard went, slotting between Jimmy's legs and planting his palms on the desk, his mind spinning as he deepened the kiss, felt Jimmy's length against his own and shivered. How had he never known Jimmy was gay? How did their losing battles against the inevitability of Clark fucking Kent bring them both here?
Why was Jimmy suddenly freezing, tensing up, pulling back from him?
“Wait, please,” he begged in a ragged whisper as Jimmy's hands slid from around him and landed on his chest, poised to push him away. “I-”
“This is a bad idea,” Jimmy sighed, dropping his gaze. But he rested his forehead against Richard's. “Don't want to drag you through the rumor mill. Don't want to mess up our friendship.”
The rumor mill.
Friendship.
Crap.
The room started to spin again, but this time Richard managed to push himself upright, stepping away, and scrubbed both hands over his face to try to clear away the lingering rush of sex and the liquor-induced fog. And if he didn't want Jimmy to see the frustrated disappointment he knew he had to be wearing, so what?
Turning away, he found the clean shirts he'd pulled from the wardrobe, and stripped off his dirty t-shirt to change. If there was any way to salvage the absolute cluster-fuck this damn party had turned into, it had to start with clean clothes. And then water. Lots of water.
“Richard....” Jimmy said plaintively from behind him.
“Just don't, okay?” he spat back, harsher than he'd intended. Wincing at himself for being an ass, he turned back, the buttons of his clean dress shirt foiling him. Damn ham fingers. Stupid rum. “Look, I shouldn't have,” he went on. “It's no big deal.”
Sliding off the desk, Jimmy stepped over to him and batted his hands away, doing up the buttons himself. “But it is a big deal. I don't... I don't want to hurt you... or what we have as friends, just because I was dumb enough to fall for my other best friend, who also happens to be the number one most unattainable guy in the universe.”
“Unless you're Lois Lane,” Richard supplied grumpily.
Jimmy nodded in agreement, “Unless you're Lois Lane.” Finished with the buttons, he settled his hands flat on Richard's chest. “We've got enough secrets to keep as it is. I'd hate to have to add one more to the pile, and risk not even being able to talk about all the insane stuff we know about. I think we'd both lose it inside of a few weeks.”
Richard couldn't help a snort at that, the room finally settling into place around him. It was true; they knew too much, and needed each other as sounding boards. Screwing that up would be bad.
Laying his hands over Jimmy's to squeeze them firmly, he gave his friend a tight smile. “Okay, I'm sold.”
“We're good?” Jimmy asked tentatively, his brows knitted together.
A slight nod as he released Jimmy's hands. “Yeah. As good as we can be, I guess. I'm sorry for presuming.”
His friend smiled in relief with that. “Well, we can always blame it on the egg nog.”
“Agreed,” Richard nodded more emphatically, the worst of his embarrassment sliding away. “Now let's get some water. And then, fruitcake!”
Naturally, Jimmy made a pinched face. “Fruitcake? You really must be drunk!”
“Ha, ha,” he quipped back dryly, playfully shoving Jimmy toward the door. “Let's go.”
And Jimmy's laugh in return as they headed out was all the confirmation he needed that this incident would go without further remark. Even if Richard would have to squash the little seed of doubt that insisted he'd officially lost all women and men to the only person on the Earth that could toast bread with his eyes, they'd both be okay.
They had to be.
~*~*~*~
Out in the bullpen, Clark was sniffing the egg nog suspiciously when Polly grabbed his arm.
“Hey, Clark, have you seen Jimmy? I've been looking for him for a half-hour; there's mistletoe over here that he hasn't taken advantage of,” the blonde reporter whined, her cheeks reddened from the rum that he was pretty certain Gil had snuck into every drink at the party.
Adjusting his glasses with an index finger, he shrugged and shook his head. “Sorry. Last time I saw him, he was headed for the men's room. Maybe a little too much-” he paused, making a drinking gesture with his free hand. “I'm sure he'll be back soon.”
Polly pouted at his ridiculous excuse, but with a twirl, stalked away to find somebody else to pester, leaving Clark in her wake.
A glance over at Richard's office, which he'd seen the two men disappear into quite some time ago, and he vowed to never tell a soul the things he hadn't meant to overhear. He felt like a complete ass as it was, the lingering shame of the way he'd come back still a bitter aftertaste on the back of his tongue, so the least he could do was keep the rumor mill from devouring them over an encounter that could hardly be called such. Nobody deserved that, least of all the only two men he figured he could really count as friends, having trusted them with practically everything in his life.
When they finally emerged a moment later, discreetly trying to slip back into the party, Jimmy looking a little more rumpled than usual with a crooked bow-tie and tussled hair, and Richard sporting a plastic grin, well, they didn't have to know that Clark pulling Lois under the mistletoe for a deep kiss was a distraction made primarily for their benefit. Even if the sight might hurt them.
It was simply no one else's business what happened in that office.
~*~*~*~
Fandom: SR/etc
Pairing: Richard/Jimmy (w/past Richard/Lois; side Clark/Lois, & few surprise unrequited pairings)
Rating: PG-13 (with a few f-bombs)
Word Count: 2,559
Prompts: For the Superman Movieverse Pairings Challenge: The Bullpen, Mistake, Desk, Office Party, Broken; For hc_bingo: Depression; For the 2010 DCU Free For All Winter Holidays Challenge: Mistletoe, Egg Nog/Hot Cocoa
Summary: Richard was sure the egg nog hadn't been this spiked when he'd had his first mug.
Disclaimer: DC and WB own everything. The schmucks.
Author's Notes: Second in this part of the series; follows He Does Things Like That. This one happens just a few months after the end of Aftermath, with big spoilers for the main story. All you really need to know is that Clark and Lois are together now, and Richard took his and Lois's break-up pretty badly at first. Also, I accidentally ordered this part of the series so that this one gives away everything for a future story in the series (that actually happened during an altered scene from SR). Heh. And yes, this is official Aftermath canon, so, angst warning.
Monumentally Screwed
Richard was sure the egg nog hadn't been this spiked when he'd had his first mug. Heat climbing up the sides of his face, he blinked and stared down into the creamy liquid. It looked... thinner than it had originally.
“You look pretty sloshed.”
Lifting his head slowly, he blinked again, finding Jimmy gazing at him with wide eyes, his own cheeks flushed pink. “Um,” he said, with nothing to really follow the statement. His brain felt like molasses as his vision started to swim with the sparkle of the lights and garland strung up all over the bullpen.
Jimmy frowned. “How much of that have you had? You know Gil dumped almost a whole bottle of rum in there, right?”
From somewhere deep inside, a barking laugh fought its way out of him, and he shook his head lazily, “Don't blame him, after the year we've all had.” His focus pulled across the room of its own accord, straight to the one person whose return seemed to have completely upended Richard's world. It wasn't fair.
A nod of agreement as Jimmy took a long draw off his own drink, following Richard's gaze to the other side of the bullpen where the annual Planet holiday party was in full swing, a few people so drunk already that they were slow dancing to Jingle Bell Rock. “A lot's changed, hasn't it?”
“I'd say that's an understatement.” And it was. It was probably the understatement of the millennium. Not only had his family dissolved, but he'd sold the house on Riverside two weeks ago, and only just a few days ago sold his sea plane to an enthusiastic buyer that he couldn't be bothered to be happy for. Everything but his job was completely gone.
And watching Clark kiss Lois under the mistletoe, the pair sharing their first Christmas as a newly-married couple, was the icing on the cake. Richard suddenly couldn't help the nausea that rose up in a wave from his gut at the sight.
With a hasty retreat and a very confused friend left in his wake, he only barely made it to the men's room in time to lose a stomach full of rum-spiked nog and a couple of cookies into a toilet. The burn of the alcohol and stomach acid in his throat and nostrils left after he was done heaving sent him straight over to the sinks to try to clean up and wash the taste and scent away.
Okay, so maybe it hadn't been the sight of his former fiancee and his rival-friend, Clark was his friend now-that brought all that back up. Dammit, Gil.
“Hey, you okay?” a voice surprised him from the bathroom door.
Richard didn't even manage to hide his startle at Jimmy's entrance, the younger man's hand falling gently on his back. “No,” he answered honestly, before splashing more water on his face. “No, I'm not.” Gladly accepting the paper towels Jimmy passed him, he scrubbed his face clean of any remaining sick, ignoring the way his vision insisted on swimming from the liquor. “Should've known better than to drink so much.”
Jimmy let out a huff of a laugh. “Haven't seen you like this since our trip to Washington. C'mon, you should change. It'll get the rest of the smell off.”
Pushing up from the sink, Richard winced at the memory of that horrible week. Running off to cover the surprise G8 conference when his personal life was imploding hadn't exactly been a brilliant plan. Alternately getting smashed and hopped up on coffee to get through the entire disaster had been an even worse idea.
He'd been handling things so much better since then, though, had decided to put his personal hell aside because Lois and Jason had needed him to. Because even Clark had needed him to. And he liked Clark, genuinely. Things were getting easier.
Until he'd had to sell his plane. And had to come to this party. And drank Gil's damned spiked egg nog.
At least he'd gotten some of tonight's mistake out of his system; with a little work, he might not even be hung over in the morning. Maybe.
But first he had to get changed, like Jimmy suggested. Letting his friend usher him back into the bullpen and across to his office, Richard tried to put on his best fake smile, nodding at a few staffers along the way. They didn't have to know he'd been sick. Even if Lois, Clark, and Perry undoubtedly would.
Closing the door behind them in the dimly lit office, Jimmy flipped the privacy blinds closed as Richard went straight to the tiny wardrobe closet and pulled out a clean tee and dress shirt. “Hope nobody notices we're missing,” the younger man said with a lighter laugh. “After last year's Christmas party, the rumor mill didn't ease off of people till almost June!”
But Richard was too busy struggling to get out of his dirty shirt to quite register the absurdity that Jimmy was suggesting. Stupid cuff buttons; his fingertips felt like hams trying to work them open.
“Yeah, rumor mill,” he said absently, finally giving up and yanking the shirt off inside-out over his hand, popping the button in the process. “Aha!” he cried out triumphantly.
Only, he didn't figure on the motion yanking his own weight off balance, and his feet seemed to be tangled together as his body spun, no way to save the fall as the room suddenly lurched sideways, and-
With a huff of breath being driven out of his lungs, Richard realized he'd fallen into Jimmy and shoved him up against the desk, was staring right into his eyes.
Eyes that weren't so much laughing anymore.
Richard felt caught between utter drunkenness and total clarity at the surprise of Jimmy's warmth against him, through his thin undershirt, and he let himself be supported by the his friend, by the unexpected solid strength in his slight frame.
The tense shock of the moment seemed to drag on for eternity, as Richard found himself clinging to Jimmy, fisting his hands in his shirt.
Jimmy had been there for him the last time he fell, too, in Washington. Only that hadn't been so literal. Still, he was the one that had picked Richard up, dusted him off, and put him back in working order when he was an utter mess.
“Why?” he asked, voice low. “Why are you taking care of me? Don't deserve it.”
Dragging his pained-when did it become pained?-gaze away, Jimmy swallowed. “Not the only one that had a rough year, you know.”
And Richard glanced in the direction of the bullpen briefly, taking a shaky breath as the room wobbled just a little around him, Jimmy's hands tightening around his biceps to keep him steady. “Clark steal someone from you, too?”
“What? No!” Jimmy was quick to assert, bringing his gaze back up. “He, he-”
But the rest of the sentence was lost to a whimper low in his throat, full of an anguish that Richard knew all too well. It was the despair of lost hope, of a dream torn to shreds. It was-
Oh.
“Thought you and Polly were a... a thing now,” he said, grasping at straws, giving Jimmy an out if he wanted it.
Jimmy only made a face, shaking his head slightly. “Not even remotely.”
A trembling laugh escaping him, Richard tried to push himself up to standing, and only succeeded in falling more closely against his friend. Damn Gil. Damn egg nog.
“Whoa,” Jimmy said gently, propping him up again, or at least trying to. Pretty clear by that point that they were both smashed.
'Cept Jimmy was better at hiding it. At hiding a lot of things, apparently.
And he was so very warm, pressed against Richard from chest to knees.
Why hadn't he ever seen? Why didn't Jimmy ever tell him? And-
“Why has everybody gotta be in love with Clark?” he finally whined, dropping his head on Jimmy's shoulder with a soft thud as the realization worked its way through the molasses in his brain. He felt Jimmy sigh, his chest dipping with the exhalation, the breath hot against his neck.
“Doesn't matter now, anyway. They were always gonna be together.”
Richard tensed at the remark, hating how true it was, how true it had always been.
“Yeah,” he agreed. “They were. Just wish somebody'd warned me.”
Jimmy's arms slipped around his back, squeezing gently. “Didn't know Clark was coming back. And I'd... hoped....”
A long breath, and Richard felt himself sink into his friend's embrace, nuzzling into Jimmy's neck. “How did we wind up so monumentally screwed?”
Jimmy laughed at that, shaking them both. “Wish I knew.”
Richard wished there were answers, too, but he knew damn well there weren't. It was just too much, having his life turned upside down, knowing Jimmy hadn't really had it any easier.
But being able to get all this off his chest was such a relief. That Jimmy had his back, the only person that hadn't thrown him under the bus in all this mess, was such a welcome feeling. As was just being held by someone, by anyone, since everything had gone to hell. It was too good, too much, the entirety of it suddenly overwhelming beneath the haze of rum, and... and he couldn't help drawing back just enough to see that anguished look still heavy in Jimmy's eyes, before surging forward to kiss him.
And why not? Why not take advantage of the moment, of the dud of a hand they'd been dealt, and do... something with their shattered remains? It wasn't like Richard had never been with a guy before, anyway, not that anyone other than Lois knew it. So why not do this?
Almost surprisingly, Jimmy pulled him in tighter, responding eagerly to the hot kiss, and leaned back until he was sliding onto Richard's desk, hauling him even closer.
There was nowhere to go but forward, so forward Richard went, slotting between Jimmy's legs and planting his palms on the desk, his mind spinning as he deepened the kiss, felt Jimmy's length against his own and shivered. How had he never known Jimmy was gay? How did their losing battles against the inevitability of Clark fucking Kent bring them both here?
Why was Jimmy suddenly freezing, tensing up, pulling back from him?
“Wait, please,” he begged in a ragged whisper as Jimmy's hands slid from around him and landed on his chest, poised to push him away. “I-”
“This is a bad idea,” Jimmy sighed, dropping his gaze. But he rested his forehead against Richard's. “Don't want to drag you through the rumor mill. Don't want to mess up our friendship.”
The rumor mill.
Friendship.
Crap.
The room started to spin again, but this time Richard managed to push himself upright, stepping away, and scrubbed both hands over his face to try to clear away the lingering rush of sex and the liquor-induced fog. And if he didn't want Jimmy to see the frustrated disappointment he knew he had to be wearing, so what?
Turning away, he found the clean shirts he'd pulled from the wardrobe, and stripped off his dirty t-shirt to change. If there was any way to salvage the absolute cluster-fuck this damn party had turned into, it had to start with clean clothes. And then water. Lots of water.
“Richard....” Jimmy said plaintively from behind him.
“Just don't, okay?” he spat back, harsher than he'd intended. Wincing at himself for being an ass, he turned back, the buttons of his clean dress shirt foiling him. Damn ham fingers. Stupid rum. “Look, I shouldn't have,” he went on. “It's no big deal.”
Sliding off the desk, Jimmy stepped over to him and batted his hands away, doing up the buttons himself. “But it is a big deal. I don't... I don't want to hurt you... or what we have as friends, just because I was dumb enough to fall for my other best friend, who also happens to be the number one most unattainable guy in the universe.”
“Unless you're Lois Lane,” Richard supplied grumpily.
Jimmy nodded in agreement, “Unless you're Lois Lane.” Finished with the buttons, he settled his hands flat on Richard's chest. “We've got enough secrets to keep as it is. I'd hate to have to add one more to the pile, and risk not even being able to talk about all the insane stuff we know about. I think we'd both lose it inside of a few weeks.”
Richard couldn't help a snort at that, the room finally settling into place around him. It was true; they knew too much, and needed each other as sounding boards. Screwing that up would be bad.
Laying his hands over Jimmy's to squeeze them firmly, he gave his friend a tight smile. “Okay, I'm sold.”
“We're good?” Jimmy asked tentatively, his brows knitted together.
A slight nod as he released Jimmy's hands. “Yeah. As good as we can be, I guess. I'm sorry for presuming.”
His friend smiled in relief with that. “Well, we can always blame it on the egg nog.”
“Agreed,” Richard nodded more emphatically, the worst of his embarrassment sliding away. “Now let's get some water. And then, fruitcake!”
Naturally, Jimmy made a pinched face. “Fruitcake? You really must be drunk!”
“Ha, ha,” he quipped back dryly, playfully shoving Jimmy toward the door. “Let's go.”
And Jimmy's laugh in return as they headed out was all the confirmation he needed that this incident would go without further remark. Even if Richard would have to squash the little seed of doubt that insisted he'd officially lost all women and men to the only person on the Earth that could toast bread with his eyes, they'd both be okay.
They had to be.
~*~*~*~
Out in the bullpen, Clark was sniffing the egg nog suspiciously when Polly grabbed his arm.
“Hey, Clark, have you seen Jimmy? I've been looking for him for a half-hour; there's mistletoe over here that he hasn't taken advantage of,” the blonde reporter whined, her cheeks reddened from the rum that he was pretty certain Gil had snuck into every drink at the party.
Adjusting his glasses with an index finger, he shrugged and shook his head. “Sorry. Last time I saw him, he was headed for the men's room. Maybe a little too much-” he paused, making a drinking gesture with his free hand. “I'm sure he'll be back soon.”
Polly pouted at his ridiculous excuse, but with a twirl, stalked away to find somebody else to pester, leaving Clark in her wake.
A glance over at Richard's office, which he'd seen the two men disappear into quite some time ago, and he vowed to never tell a soul the things he hadn't meant to overhear. He felt like a complete ass as it was, the lingering shame of the way he'd come back still a bitter aftertaste on the back of his tongue, so the least he could do was keep the rumor mill from devouring them over an encounter that could hardly be called such. Nobody deserved that, least of all the only two men he figured he could really count as friends, having trusted them with practically everything in his life.
When they finally emerged a moment later, discreetly trying to slip back into the party, Jimmy looking a little more rumpled than usual with a crooked bow-tie and tussled hair, and Richard sporting a plastic grin, well, they didn't have to know that Clark pulling Lois under the mistletoe for a deep kiss was a distraction made primarily for their benefit. Even if the sight might hurt them.
It was simply no one else's business what happened in that office.
~*~*~*~