"No, I will not tell him that, you tell him yourself... You are such a tart... I know, me too." Keira's voice softened, the intimate nature of it caressing along Michael's skin like a kiss. "Ta, love." She tossed her phone back onto the table and grinned crookedly at Michael, showing off beautifully white teeth. "James wants you to phone him." "James?" Michael asked stupidly, because whenever Keira smiled at him like she knew something he didn't, he found himself entirely losing track of the conversation. He defied anyone to behave differently when confronted with that smile. "Yes, James," Keira repeated, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear in an artlessly elegant gesture. Michael was convinced that everything Keira did was elegant. "McAvoy. Your friend and co-conspirator and once and future co-worker," she added, ticking off each word on meticulously maintained nails. "Am I missing anything?" Something about the way she was looking at him – like she knew him inside and out and nothing he could say would ever surprise her, had him itching to do just that. Michael'd never liked being labeled, and liked feeling like he was an open book even less. "You forgot shag partner," he said, simply for the perverse pleasure of seeing her reaction. (James, it should be noted, was nothing of the sort, despite all of the flirting and innuendo they'd indulged in during filming. Which had been a disappointment, but it wasn't like Michael had lost any sleep over it. Much sleep over it. No sense in lying to himself, after all.) Her eyes, all gorgeously smudged, widened. Michael tried not to look too smug. Wouldn't do to give the game away. "You are not! Oh, this is brilliant, I knew he was keeping secrets, the naughty thing. You can't tell him you told me, I'm going to see if I can surprise it out of him..." And that was the problem with lying to Keira, Michael realized, as she prattled happily on about finally getting one over on James. Once the deed was done, he didn't have the heart to tell her the truth and disappoint her. Still best to warn James, so he wouldn't be blindsided. For all Keira's brains and beauty, she was about as subtle as a bomb going off. *** He got his chance a couple of weeks later, when James decided to pop around the set for a visit. (Why James had an urge to visit Vienna instead of waiting until they were back filming in London was baffling, but Michael wasn't one to try to puzzle out how James' delightful, yet thoroughly unorthodox, mind worked.) After introducing James to Viggo and watching them fawn over each other for a few minutes, Michael had whisked him off for a pint before Keira could. Best to get his confession out of the way quickly, Michael thought, and waited only until they'd gotten their drinks and were seated in a fairly private booth. "If Keira starts asking inappropriate questions about the two of us, I just want you to know it's my fault and I'm sorry," he said, without preamble. James' brows furrowed in puzzlement. "Why, whatever did you tell her?" "That's not the important part," Michael began, but was cut off by James' snort of disbelief. "You're forgetting I know Keira, and she'd never ask me anything inappropriate unless you told her something salacious. So, go on, tell me." Just the way he said the word 'salacious' was obscene. Really, it wasn't right that someone speaking should be such an x-rated thing. "I was just trying to have her on a little," Michael sighed, because he really couldn't keep a secret from James to save his life. And he suspected James knew it and exploited the knowledge. James licked beer foam off his upper lip with a quick swipe of his tongue. Michael tried not to stare. "Well, if you told her we were shagging, she's going to insist on a threesome." Every thought Michael ever had died a quick death at the twinkle in those blue eyes. "Come again?" "Our girl's a bit of a naughty one, didn't she tell you." Michael fought the urge to whimper at the way James' lips looked saying the word 'naughty'. He was only human. "No, um, she didn't." "Looks all china-fragile, doesn't she, but she's a goer," James continued delightedly, like he was unaware of the effect his words were having (when Michael knew perfectly well he was.) "Worn me out on more than on occasion." "You two've...?" Frankly, Michael wasn't sure which one of them he was more jealous of. He had no idea how the conversation had derailed to this point, and frankly, didn't give a rat's ass. Not when James was giving him such splendid visuals. "Are you interested in being the filling, then?" James asked, putting his elbows on the table and leaning forward in anticipation. "I'd have to be stupid or blind not to be, and you know I'm neither." At least, he hoped James knew. It was hard to tell a lot of the time what James thought about anything. "I was hoping you'd say that." James' lips were firm and dry on his a moment later, sealing the deal with a kiss that was over far too quickly. "I didn't even know you fancied me like that," Michael finally said, lips buzzing from the remembered feel of James', and wondering how soon they could do it again. "Everybody else knew. Including Matthew, and you know how preoccupied he was," James countered, settling back into his seat. "How could you not?" "Well, I dunno, I thought...we're friends." "We are friends, of course," James explained, with a patient smile. "Friends who want to shag each other rotten. What could be better?" "Is that what you and Keira are? Friends who shag each other rotten." He wouldn't be jealous that he and James weren't. (Yet, he reminded himself. Yet.) He wouldn't. "No, that story is a somewhat embarrassing one for me, I'm afraid," James replied, with such a serious expression that the hairs on the back of Michael's neck rose in warning. "She won me in a game of poker. My own fault, really, for putting myself up as a bet." "I'm sorry?" "Oh, I'm not hers forever, mind, just through the end of the year," James explained, like what he was saying made perfect logical sense and Michael was simply thick. "I'm thinking about letting her do it again, though, it's been a grand time." "You're fucking with me," Michael stated, after a moment, because, well, really. Not stupid. "Of course I am. Honestly, you should see your face right now," James laughed, then picked up his cell phone. "Should I phone Keira then, tell her you're up for it?" "Yeah, alright," Michael replied and returned James' grin. He couldn't help but feel like he'd been played, but if he got James and Keira naked out of the deal, he didn't mind. There were worse things in the world, after all.
|