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Richard is cold - but surely that could have been expected - he is, after all, in the frozen north and therefore such a thing really should have been anticipated. What isn't so easily anticipated though is that he would feel so completely lonely, so removed from everything warm and comforting that, quite frankly, he is starting to go every-so-slightly more mental than he was before.
The air is turning into mist before his face even sitting in this building - in the airport - and if he had ever been listening to James then he might be able to tell you exactly why this is, but every time James gets into one of his science talks Richard stops listening and so he can't; just sits and watches his breath and waits for comfort and warmth.
"Hamster!" Jeremy shouts across the room, and at first Richard thinks that maybe he's hallucinating - like Clarkson is some kind of mirage - but then he realises they're really here, Jeremy's really here, and then he's running.
Without stopping when he gets near, Richard launches himself into Jeremy's arms, not really paying attention to the shedloads of people surrounding them, not really paying attention to the fact that he really should not be so affectionate in public, just holding on for dear life as Jeremy chuckles in his ear.
"You miss me?" Jeremy says with a twinkle in his eye that says, 'you just wait 'til I get you somewhere private'. As it is Richard is being hugged; warm and solid and as intimate as being in a room full of people can be.
When Jeremy lets go Richard steps back, an embarrassed blush spreading over his face. James is standing behind Jeremy - slightly to one side - and although Richard is more than happy to see him he won't deny some bitterness in the arrangements. Sure his head understands why neither of his lumpen co-presenters could do what he's going to do but still, James is going to be with Jeremy and he's going to be with dogs and an annoyingly chirpy, bionic woman.
James sticks his hand out like he's half afraid that Richard might bypass it and go for a hug, Richard does what he knows James is comfortable with and shakes it; James' hand is warm and dry.
"Right Hammond, booze," Jeremy says, his voice booming and familiar.
They go to the bar in the hotel - well, what passes for a hotel - and make a start on what could be their last evening before this adventure. Richard doesn't know whether to hope for a snow storm and feels his stomach knot in apprehension; only a few hours left with Jeremy, and then nothing but ice and snow and cold: loneliness.
James has a couple of drinks but his heart isn't in it and he declares that he's going to bed. Richard doesn't like that he's relieved but he is; he wants to spend time alone with Jeremy. Sure they're only occasional lovers and have always tried to keep things light and non-committal but for now, in this weird always-daylight place, Richard wants Jeremy to himself, doesn't want to share; wants to spend all night shagging if he's honest.
Jeremy strokes long thick fingers up Richard's thigh as soon as James leaves and Richard can't help thinking of them alone in that car for hours, nothing to do and nothing to see, feels the acid burn of jealousy low down in his stomach.
Looking like he hasn't got a care in the world Jeremy massages Richard's thigh with one hand and drinks his beer with the other, the perfect picture of relaxed nonchalance.
Richard hasn't even so much as masturbated since they've been apart and feels himself stir as Jeremy's fingers stroke and caress, his cock twitching as Jeremy moves his hand slightly higher. Jeremy doesn’t look at him but smiles into thin air, knowing Richard can see him and can do nothing in this public place.
Tiring of the teasing - or perhaps as turned on as he is - Jeremy leans down towards him, whispering hotly in his ear, "I'm going to fuck you 'til you can't even remember your own name," the emphasis on the word 'fuck' lewd and pronounced making Richard shiver in delicious anticipation.
Back in the room, the one they're not supposed to be sharing but are, Jeremy kicks the door closed all manly posturing and smug grin but before Richard can settle down into this familiar, not-quite-routine of fight and conquer, Jeremy cups his jaw warmly and takes his mouth; softly, tenderly, the way he does in Richard's dreams - although he would never, ever tell Jeremy that. A small noise of surprise escapes Richard's lips and Jeremy grins into the kiss, grabbing his hand and leading him to the bed.
As soon as Jeremy starts on the buttons of Richard's shirt he starts to feel a little frantic, a whole lot wanton, because this could be their last night together, it could be the end. If Jeremy didn't come back from this exercise in futility Richard doesn't know what he'd do, can't think about it without his throat seizing up.
"Jeremy," Richard breathes into Jeremy's mouth, not sure whether he's trying to get his attention or merely needing to feel the name trip off his lips.
Jeremy murmurs low in his throat, a hand soothing down Richard's back as they undress, a non-verbal 'I'm here'. For the moment it's enough and he feels himself calming, Jeremy's breath in his ear and his low murmured voice making everything better.
"Richard. I'm - it's going to be okay y'know," Jeremy says as he pulls Richard with him to the bed, their frosted breath mingling in the cold of the room as they wrestle with duvets and each other.
"I don't want you to go," Richard mutters against the smooth skin of Jeremy's throat, one arm slung across Jeremy's chest, shivering madly.
"Don't be an idiot Hammond, this is work. What's wrong?"
Jeremy tangles their fingers together and it's startlingly intimate. Richard realises that they never do this, they never lie in bed, it's always fast and a little bit rough and it's always been enough. It's not about the sex now and Richard feels a deep dark ache in his belly, a longing to stay like this forever, wrapped up with Jeremy and safe from the world.
Jeremy is starting to look a bit worried, pulling Richard into him and wrapping him up like a child. He's clearly waiting for an answer but Richard doesn't really know what to say, only knows that he doesn't want to let go of Jeremy ever, knows that he feels hot and desperate and strangely melancholic; he looks into Jeremy's stormy eyes and tries to make him understand.
"What if something happens? If something happened to you I couldn't..." Richard pauses as his voice cracks, swallowing hard before trying to carry on, "...I couldn't go on as if we weren't - y'know, as if we were just friends. I just couldn't. And this could be the last night, the last time."
Richard is half afraid that Jeremy will laugh, under normal circumstances Jeremy would laugh but Richard isn't sure that Jeremy understands he's serious, that he's really afraid, his own brush with death heightening his fear for others but not for himself. Richard risks looking at Jeremy's face, expecting to see held back laughter or fond mockery; instead he sees tenderness and love and the tiniest bit of fear. Pulling Jeremy down on top of him, Richard buries his face in Jeremy's neck and inhales deeply.
"I'm not going anywhere," Jeremy reassures, voice low and deep as though he's trying to coax, trying to pacify. Richard can sense he's not quite sure where the land lies in this new and strange conversation.
Mouthing Jeremy's neck, Richard wants to stay hidden, feels like he's revealed far too much about himself and now it's out there it can't be taken back, Jeremy can't unhear it. There's a part of Richard's psyche berating him for being such a woman about the whole thing, a part of him begging the rest just to get on with the fucking, to get out while there's still a shred of dignity left. Richard doesn't listen to any of the internal voices screaming at him, just lifts his head up and searches Jeremy's face for something to make it okay, sees warmth and fondness and knows that Jeremy thinks no less of him.
"Come here you great big jessie," Jeremy says, kissing him lightly on the lips.
"Shut up," Richard replies with no vehemence, reaching up and stroking a hand through Jeremy's curls.
Now he has permission to touch softly, permission to stroke and caress and for this not just to be about sex, Richard finds it hard to keep his hands away from Jeremy, his fingers reaching out seemingly of their own free will and touching Jeremy's face, his throat, continuing downwards and exploring all the bits he's been afraid Jeremy wouldn't like him to touch. Richard's breath is quickening with each passing moment and before he can back down or pretend that he's taking the piss, he leans in and takes Jeremy's mouth, exploring like it's the last time he'll get the chance.
Jeremy moans deep and low in his throat as they kiss, the shock wave making all the hairs on Richard's body stand on end.
Pulling away briefly, Jeremy whispers, "Enough of the touchy feely bollocks, I have a hard-on that could drill through concrete," and captures Richard's mouth again, his body covering Richard totally. He's heavy and warm and Richard can feel exactly how hard he is.
Richard tangles their legs together, thrusting upwards and letting Jeremy know that he's not messing about - that he wants Jeremy as much as he seems to want him - their mingled breaths loud in the otherwise still room. The snow outside makes the room feel isolated, acting as a sound vacuum until Richard is convinced they're the only people alive, the only people that matter anyway.
Grinning down at him, Jeremy looks every inch the devil, eyebrow raised and an attempted 'come on then' look gracing his features. Never one to back down from a challenge - perceived or otherwise - Richard smiles back, breathes, "Yeah," as though that answers everything and reaches up for another kiss.
Jeremy won't allow it, raising his head until Richard can't reach and smirking at him.
"You have to earn it," Jeremy says, his eyes twinkling in the half light of the room, the blinds not quite masking the light from outside.
Richard huffs, wishing he could cross his arms and let Jeremy know exactly how not on board he is with this playful thing that Jeremy seems to be going for. With Jeremy pinning him bodily to the bed, the best he can do is a slight shrug, hoping fervently that the intrigue isn't showing on his face.
"You have to tell me exactly what you want me to do in glorious technicolour detail or I don't do anything."
A bolt of arousal shoots through Richard at the thought of Jeremy whispering to him the sort of dirty, lascivious things he's always wanted to hear, but Richard is rubbish at talking dirty, especially to Jeremy who will more likely to laugh than to find anything he's got to say sexy.
"James will hear us," Richard says, pleased that he's thought of a plausible reason to say no, a reason Jeremy can't deny is true.
"I don't care," Jeremy responds, leading Richard to question whether Jeremy has told James anything about them, about this. "It'll be the most sex he's had for years, just imagine him listening at the wall with a glass to his ear all hot and bothered because you're being fucked by me."
Richard screws his face up and thinks about what Jeremy has just said. "Are you suggesting that James would like to be in my place?" Richard asks, needing to be sure he's understood the inference.
"Obviously," Jeremy says as if this is a fact and not some twisted part of his imagination. "You are, after all, getting to fuck me, Jeremy Clarkson - legend."
Realising that Jeremy is just making use of his enormous ego and not... anything else, makes Richard feel momentarily relieved. He doesn't like the creeping feeling of jealousy that keeps stealing upon him at every unintentional mention of James or of the forthcoming trip, it makes him feel even more girly than shagging Jeremy does already but he can't seem to help the insidious way his brain keeps trying to convince him that Jeremy is going to be fucking James' brains out at the first opportunity.
"Don't think mentioning James is going to make me forget," Jeremy says, nuzzling the skin just under Richard's ear, breathing hot air all over his pulse point and making Richard imagine Jeremy can feel his heart race.
"Forget what?" Richard tries, knowing that if that hasn't worked for him since school, it's unlikely to now.
Jeremy smirks and looks down at him like he's prey, capturing his lips and delivering a kiss that makes Richard forget his own name. Just as he's starting to squirm against Jeremy, moans pouring out of his mouth unchecked and unstoppable, his hands grasping for some sort of purchase, nails scratching bluntly at Jeremy's flesh, Jeremy stops and pulls back.
"Now, tell me what you want," he says with a smirk Richard can feel against his skin, tongue flicking across his neck maddeningly.
Richard tries to swallow away the sudden dryness from his throat because he's sure Jeremy wants to hear some sort of pornographic montage of all his favourite things, but Richard is feeling shaky and fragile, wants to feel Jeremy close, wants to feel warm and safe and like he never has to move from that spot, ever. Telling Jeremy any of this would likely result in his death from laughter and so he takes a deep breath and does his best to mutter something Jeremy will think he wants, in his best seductive voice.
"I want to have you on top of me while you fuck me, holding me down, making me yours..."
Risking a quick look up at Jeremy, Richard sees exactly what he thought he would: barely contained laughter, mixed with a sinful smile but it doesn't rile him like he thought it might. Instead he smiles up at Jeremy, matches his smile for one equally as wicked and purrs in a porn star voice, "Big boy."
Jeremy laughs out loud then, burying his head in Richard's neck and shaking with mirth so fiercely that the bed rattles against the wall. The noise sets Richard off too and before they can stop themselves they're both gasping for breath, eyes streaming with tears as they laugh almost desperately.
When they've both calmed enough to look at each other without bursting into fits of giggles, Richard steels himself and grabs hold of Jeremy tightly and then, before he can wimp out, he says in as normal a voice as he can manage, "I want you to love me," closing his eyes then against the onslaught of mockery he knows will be coming.
Silence fills the room and eventually Richard has to look to check whether Jeremy has fallen asleep or something, his weight is still there but that's the only sign that he's even still in the room.
Before Richard can ask what's wrong - because clearly something is, Jeremy has never been silent for this long since Richard has known him - Jeremy sighs softly suddenly looking like he wants be anywhere else, anywhere but having this moment, here. Richard is contemplating the fact that he might have ruined this thing between them - whatever it is - when Jeremy looks pained and says softly and with a haunting vulnerability showing in his face. "I already do."
It takes Richard a moment to realise it's an answer to his earlier statement and comprehension is so slow to dawn that when Jeremy leans down and kisses him tenderly before deepening the kiss to something more, Richard is confused at the turn events are taking. When his mind makes the connection and Jeremy has laced their fingers together above Richard's head, planting soft kisses along his jaw, Richard feels like he's floating; he's light headed and dizzy as though someone has suddenly removed most of the oxygen from the room.
Jeremy is now thrusting against him slowly but urgently, his hips pushing his hard cock against Richard's thigh, the height difference not allowing them to kiss and have their cocks pressed together at the same time.
Richard mewls against Jeremy's flesh, the noise sounding whimperingly vulnerable even to his own ears.
Clearing his throat, Jeremy says in a barely audible voice, "I love you," maybe fearing that Richard misunderstood the first time.
In reply Richard presses up desperately, wantonly and says, "Fuck me," basking in the gasp those words produce.
Jeremy scrambles for the lube, half squashing Richard in the process and causing him to squeak in indignation as an elbow catches him unprepared. Taking his time Jeremy works his fingers in a way he knows Richard likes, smiling when he writhes and pants Jeremy's name, an almost constant litany of 'do it, do it, do it,' trickling from his throat.
It is - when Jeremy finally thrusts into him - like it always is, too good, making Richard fear that he's destined to spend eternity craving this: wanting Jeremy closer and closer until they can't get any closer, even then wanting more.
Jeremy looms over him, Richard almost bent double so he can look up into Jeremy's face as they fuck, so he can watch his expression change as he comes close to orgasm. Not wanting it to end because then they'll have to part, it'll be closer to morning and Richard will have to let go. It can't last forever - as much as Richard might wish it - and in only a few more thrusts Jeremy is spilling hotly inside him, reaching over to wrap long fingers around Richard's cock.
Richard wants to tell Jeremy to stop, to stay joined for as long as possible but he's also hot and wants to come, Jeremy's fingers exerting the perfect kind of perfect pressure as they stroke him. With a final caress Richard is pulsing into Jeremy's hand, groaning both in relief and in the sad knowledge that now it's over, Jeremy is going to sleep - as he should, they have a long week ahead of them - and Richard will be left alone on his side of the bed.
Sensing Richard's reluctance to let go, Jeremy wraps him up in long arms and allows him to snuggle into Jeremy's side, yelping when Richard's cold nose touches his skin.
"Come on then, you woman," Jeremy says fondly, ruffling Richard's hair and placing a gentle kiss on his lips.
Richard watches Jeremy doze until morning.
And then lets him go.