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Alex’s ankle hadn’t even fully healed by the time things were back to a semblance of normal between them. Which was to say that Greg went back to spending the overwhelming majority of his nights sleeping in his bed in his own flat, and significantly less time as a bear.
He seemed confident that simply by mutually acknowledging its existence, the bond would take care of itself, and to that end, he had a point.
Alex went about his day with Greg as sort of a constant background noise in his mind, not in an unpleasant way. Just like warm white noise that centred him and kept him grounded. And of course, when they wanted or needed to, either could communicate more than that through the bond (or via telephone or Facetime or any other myriad methods of communication, of course, just as they always had, but through unspoken agreement, they both relied on the bond more often than not).
Greg liked to unwind at the end of each day by replaying everything humorous that had happened, often, Alex suspected, in a quite exaggerated fashion, but he rather enjoyed it anyway. It was like tuning into a television programme, something he could have on in the background to make him laugh while he got on with the mundanity of dishes or cleaning or just staring at the ceiling hoping ideas for tasks or jokes would come to him.
On one such occasion, he was sitting at the kitchen table, scrolling through Twitter without paying much attention, more absorbed in Greg’s recounting of getting accidentally lashed while at lunch with Roisin and Mike Wozniak. The memory was still hazy around the edges with the alcohol that hadn’t quite worked its way out of Greg’s system, and it was all the more amusing for the gaps that Greg had to keep going back in to fill.
Alex giggled into his fist at the trio’s rather drunken realisation that the special lemonade the café had been serving them had vodka in it, and was snapped back to reality at Rachel’s hand on his shoulder. “What’s so funny?” she asked, smiling down at him.
He glanced immediately down at his phone, open to a tweet from the Guardian about impending recession and winced, hoping it’d be better cover. “Oh, nothing,” he said, a little vaguely. “Just, er, remembered something. From the– the show.”
Rachel looked understandably sceptical. “Something?” she repeated, her voice light. “Or someone?”
Well, that was unusually pointed, and Alex swallowed. Something softened in her face and she asked quietly, “Are you ready to talk yet?”
“Soon,” Alex said, equally quiet, and she nodded and started to turn away, though she paused when he added, “This weekend, when the kids are staying with my parents?”
He didn’t know why he suggested it, except that this was a conversation that needed to happen, and at this point, delaying it any longer just felt cruel.
She searched his face for a moment before nodding. “Ok,” she said, patting his shoulder gently.
He reached up automatically to rest his hand on top of hers. “I love you,” he told her, with absolute, crystal sincerity.
Because no matter what else happened, that would always be true.
She managed a small smile, and bent to kiss the top of his head. “I love you, too,” she said.
Then she was gone, off to make sure the kids were asleep, and Alex let out a shaky breath, covering his face with both hands. He could feel Greg in his head, questioning and comforting in equal measure, but he couldn’t bring himself to reciprocate, or explain.
Instead, he grabbed his phone again, and pulled up their SMS thread. Are you free on Saturday?
A moment later, Greg’s response pinged. I can be.
He could feel Greg’s curiosity and concern in his head and he swallowed hard, closing his eyes. I need you, he thought, desperately. I don’t know if I can make it make sense without you.
Alex’s phone pinged again with a second text from Greg, and he opened his eyes to read: I’ll be there.
“Are you having an affair?”
It was Alex’s fault, he supposed, for hemming and hawing and trying to figure out how to even start explaining for so long that Rachel had to just ask the obvious question. Of course, he didn’t know what it said about him that this was, somehow, inexplicably, the obvious question.
“No,” he said, because it was true, but then he had to add, because it was also true, “Not– not yet.”
Rachel, already small, somehow looked even smaller, staring up at Alex, her features tired and drawn. “Not yet?” she repeated. “What does that mean?”
Alex wet his lips. “It means that there is someone who– but I haven’t done anything with him.”
Her eyes flickered to his and away again. “Him?” she said, a little faintly, and then, “Is it Greg?”
He hadn’t expected for her to immediately guess that, but he supposed if he was being honest with himself as much as with her, he really should have. There was really no one else with whom he spent that much time, save the band or Key and Watto, and, well, that wasn’t happening on so many levels.
“Yes, it’s Greg.”
Rachel gave one short nod, resting both her palms against the table. She took a deep breath before looking up at him and asking, “Do you love him?”
“Yes.”
He had never said as much to Greg, outside of jokingly as part of the show, and he hadn’t quite admitted to himself yet, but as soon as he said it, he knew it was true.
To her credit, Rachel didn’t flinch at the admission. If anything, she straightened, her chin held high despite the tears he could see shining in her eyes. “Well,” she said, bracingly, her voice trembling only slightly, “that’s that, then, isn’t it.”
“No,” Alex said, sharper than he intended, and it took everything in him not to reach across the table for her. He would’ve, if he thought it’d help, but he suspected it wouldn’t. Not yet, at least. “No, it’s not. Because I also love you. More than I did when we met 25 years ago, more than when we got married.”
If nothing else came from this conversation, if everything else went to hell, as long as she knew that, as long as she believed that, that was all Alex cared about.
Rachel just glanced at him. “More than you love him?”
Alex’s chest felt tight. “That’s– that’s not a fair question.”
“Why not?”
She didn’t say it like an accusation, but he still took it as one. “Because it’s different,” he said, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “This thing between him and me isn’t– it doesn’t replace what we have. At least, I don’t want it to.” He hesitated, then did reach out for her hand. “I didn’t choose this with him. I chose you. I will always choose you, and the kids.”
Instead of taking his hand, she pulled hers away, and Alex winced but stubbornly left his hand on the table, in case she changed her mind. “But you’re not choosing me,” she said, her voice small. “You wouldn’t be sat here having this conversation with me if you were choosing me.”
Alex exhaled heavily. “Maybe not,” he said quietly. “But I suppose if I had to choose, I would choose you.”
“You think I won’t make you choose?”
There was something almost incredulous in her voice, and Alex winced again. “I’m hoping that when you hear me out, you won’t.”
The look she gave him was piercing. “Hear you out?”
“Well, hear him out, actually.”
Undoubtedly, there was a better way to bring that up, but it was too late for Alex to fumble for something more appropriate. Rachel’s eyes widened, and for the first time, she looked angry, two red spots appearing high on her cheeks. “You brought your lover to our house?” she asked sharply.
Alex shook his head. “He’s not my lover,” he said, hesitating before adding, “And technically, he’s outside.”
“Oh, that makes it all right, then,” she said with a venom he didn’t recognise.
He took a deep breath, reminding himself mentally that he deserved this, he deserved every bit of her anger and pain. “You know me,” he said finally, rubbing his forehead. “You know how– how shit I am at talking about this sort of thing. He’ll do a better job explaining.” He lowered his hand to meet her eyes. “Because this isn’t a normal affair, whatever that even looks like.”
Rachel just shook her head. “You’re going to have to give me more than that.”
Which Alex had expected of course, and he sighed, understanding Rhod’s reluctance to go down this particular path. “Did you, er, did you ever read Twilight?”
She stared at him like he’d grown a second head. “Of course I did, yeah,” she said, and he blinked, surprised. “Do you not remember me banging on about Team Jacob and Team Edward like an idiot teenager instead of the adult I was?”
Her words stirred some dormant memory and he nodded slowly. “Oh, yeah, I do remember that. Didn’t know it had to do with Twilight, though.”
“Well what did you think it was?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Dunno, something with The X-Factor?”
“Jesus Christ,” she said, with a genuine laugh.
Despite everything, Alex’s heart felt so full knowing that he could still make her laugh like that.
He managed a tight smile before continuing, “Right, well, if you’ve read Twilight, you’ve a leg up on me, apparently. Do you remember anything about imprinting?”
She frowned. “Like with the werewolves?”
For easily the first time in his entire life, Alex felt incredibly relieved that the Twilight books existed. “Exactly like with the werewolves.”
“…I think you’d better explain.”
Alex sighed. “It, er, it might be easier with a visual demonstration.” He stood, hesitating for just a moment before offering her his hand again. “Will you come with me?” he asked softly, and when she just looked up at him, he added, “Please?”
She hesitated as well before finally, tentatively, placing her hand in his. “Yeah, all right.”
Together, they made their way outside, walking through the garden and out to the open land behind them. “Should I have worn better shoes?” Rachel asked, and Alex just squeezed her hand.
“Just a little further,” he promised, already picking out the familiar copse where he had told Greg to wait for them. When they approached, Alex stopped, not dropping Rachel’s hand. “Right,” he said, suddenly nervous. “I’m going to show you something, and I hope– I mean, react however you need to, but I promise you’re not in any danger.”
She glanced sideways at him. “Not exactly reassuring,” she muttered.
The trees rustled and her head snapped forward to stare wide-eyed into the foliage as the massive, silver-white bear emerged.
Alex squeezed her hand once before stepping forward, holding his other hand out. Greg took a few steps forward, just far enough that he could stretch forward and press his nose against Alex’s hand. Alex glanced back at Rachel, who was still staring at them, but seemingly without the fear that he’d anticipated.
Then she took a step forward as well, though her other hand stayed firmly at her side. “Hello, Greg,” she said, something resigned in her tone.
Alex and Greg exchanged startled glances. “How’d you—” Alex started, his voice cracking, and she just shook her head.
“I just– give me a moment.” Rachel closed her eyes and Alex squeezed her hand again. After a long minute, she opened her eyes again. “Right,” she said firmly. “I think I’d better go make us some tea. You—” She pointed at Greg. “Put some clothes on and join me. You—” This time she looked at Alex, something unreadable in her expression.
“I think it’s best if Greg and I talked alone.”
“Alex said there’s more to this than just a normal affair,” Rachel said twenty minutes later, her hands wrapped around a steaming mug of tea. Greg took a sip of still-scalding tea just to give himself a reason not to meet her eyes as she continued, “And he said the rest of the explanation would be better coming from you. And that it somehow has something to do with Twilight, and imprinting, which I’ve now more or less put together on my own what that means.”
Greg huffed a dry, humourless laugh. “You always were smarter than Alex.”
She didn’t smile. “You’re a were…bear.”
“Shifter, but yes.”
She hesitated. “You imprinted on my husband.”
Greg was not a violent person by any stretch, especially not towards women, but if he ever met Stephanie Meyer… “For lack of a better term.”
Her brow furrowed and she took a quick sip of tea before saying, somewhat hesitantly, “My knowledge of Twilight and imprinting – well, it’s been a few years. But I remember that there’s– they need to be together, right?” An understatement if ever he’d heard one, but Greg nodded. “And what would happen if you couldn’t be with him?”
“Take a look at the last nine years,” he said, his voice low, and he did his level best to tamp down the dull pain that rose in his chest at the memory. “I managed, for the most part, without him.” He pulled a face. “Or with just enough of him, I suppose. It was enough.”
“Then what changed?”
He shrugged. “It wasn’t enough anymore.”
She gave him a look that, in retrospect, he almost certainly deserved. “What does that mean?”
“It means that I was in very real danger of turning into a bear in the middle of the fucking Tesco and not being able to turn back to human again,” he said shortly.
“Oh.”
Her voice was small, and Greg sighed, scrubbing a hand across his mouth. This wasn’t how he had wanted any of this to go. “Alex is…he keeps me human.” Her eyes flickered up to his and away again. “I had no intention of ever telling him about any of this, but nature had other plans.”
She nodded slowly. “And that’s when all this started.”
“More or less.”
Rachel took another sip of tea, cradling the mug between both of her hands as she peered at Greg over the rim of the cup, and he shifted uncomfortably. Finally, she sighed and set her mug down again. “He said nothing has happened between you two.”
He shook his head. “Nothing has,” he assured her. “He kissed my nose when I was a bear, once. That’s the most scandalous bit of it. I haven’t even set foot in your house since this all started. Until now, of course.”
She raised both eyebrows. “I’d’ve thought you’d need to be close to him.”
Greg shrugged. “I do.” He gestured ruefully out the window. “I spent more than a few nights out in the hills.”
Rachel’s eyes widened. “Those hills?”
“Yeah.”
“Christ, that’s dedication,” she said.
He just shrugged, because it hadn’t seemed it at the time. “Easier as a bear, innit.” She didn’t smile and he sighed before telling her, his voice low, plaintive, “For what it’s worth, I offered to fuck off and live in the woods as a bear for the rest of my life.”
“Alex clearly didn’t take you up on it.”
He shook his head. “No.” He hesitated before adding, “But the offer still stands.”
Rachel glanced up at him, startled. “I can’t ask you to do that.”
“You’re not asking,” he told her. “I’m offering.”
She pulled a face. “What, just disappear off the face of the earth never to be seen again?”
He shrugged. “I mean, you’d have to give me a little time,” he said, settling back in his chair. “I could make up a lie that I was retiring from comedy, moving to Spain. Could say it was on the advice of my doctors to make sure my fat, massive heart doesn’t explode one of these days.”
If anything, she looked even more startled than before. “You’re serious.”
“As a heart attack, yeah.”
She worried her lower lip between her teeth, and it looked so much like how Alex did the same thing that Greg’s heart clenched painfully in his chest to know one had likely picked up the habit from the other. “You’ve thought about this before.”
He sighed heavily. “The absolute last thing I want on this entire earth is to hurt him,” he told her. “Or you, or your family, which are both just extensions of him as far as I’m concerned.” He shrugged and looked away. “And if that is what it takes, it’s what I’ll do.”
For one long, terrible moment, Rachel didn’t say anything, and Greg wondered if she was actually considering it. But then she sighed and leaned forward. “Trouble is, I think you doing that would hurt him far worse than you staying would hurt me.”
“And you would prefer the latter,” Greg said, recognising the resigned way she said it. “That you hurt instead of him.”
For the first time all day, she managed a small smile. “You and I have that in common, it seems,” she told him, taking another sip of tea before adding, in an almost painfully off-hand way, “He loves you.”
As much as Greg had already felt it through the bond, even if he’d refused to give name to it, it hit on a different level to hear her say it aloud. “We have that in common as well,” he said softly.
Her eyes met his, and for one small moment, Greg felt like they understood each other perfectly. Then she blinked and looked away, tracing a finger around the rim of her cup. “What are you looking for from him?” she asked abruptly. “From this?”
Greg just shrugged. “Whatever he’s willing to give me,” he said honestly. “So to that end, I suppose whatever part of him you’re willing to let me have, or at least to share with me.”
“Do you want to fuck him?”
She conspicuously avoided looking at him when she asked, and Greg’s mouth went dry. “I– Yes.”
Rachel didn’t look surprised by that. “I almost think it would be easier if it was just sex. If you weren’t in love with him.”
Greg took a sip of tea and shrugged again. “Maybe it would be.”
“But you are.” She didn’t phrase it as a question, and he didn’t bother admitting it. “And it isn’t easy. On any level.”
“No. It’s not.” He sighed and set his mug down, running a hand across his face. “I just wish—”
He broke off, because it wasn’t something he should share with Rachel of all people, but she just frowned at him. “What?”
Still he hesitated, trying to figure out the best, or least painful, way to word it. “I don’t wish it hadn’t happened,” he said finally. “But I wish it had been different, that he might’ve fallen for me of his own volition. That’d be easier for me, I think, if he’d have had a choice. Harder for you, I know, but…”
He trailed off, and to his surprise, she laughed. A somewhat brittle version of her usual laugh, but a laugh nonetheless. “You’re an idiot.”
“What?”
“You think—” Rachel broke off, shaking her head. “Greg, the entire fucking country has watched you two flirt for years. I never really expected anything was going to happen between you two, but I never once thought that it wouldn’t happen because of Alex. I just assumed it was all a joke for you.”
Greg stared at her. “I don’t—”
“Alex has had a little crush on you since the beginning,” she told him. “Before, if my maths are right, this whole imprinting thing happened.” She shrugged. “He’d never admit it, because, well, in fairness I think he thought he was straight, but the way he talked about you when he was getting you to agree to do the show…” She trailed off but Greg couldn’t seem to find it in him to say anything. “And then during the show– you said he had no clue, right?” Again she shrugged. “And yet he’s still spent more time trying to make you laugh than anyone else he’s ever known.”
Greg managed to recover his voice enough to protest, “But that– Even if he wasn’t really aware of why he was feeling the way he was, it was still the bond, wasn’t it. The imprinting, what have you. He didn’t have a choice.”
She just shook her head. “The same could be said for regular love,” she said quietly. “It’s all just chemicals and complications, and not many choices for anyone involved.”
It wasn’t the same thing, and Greg crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Still.”
“Still,” she echoed, with a little bit of a challenge in her tone. Then she sighed again and looked away. “The choice he had, the one you both did, was what you were going to do about it. And to that end, as much as I’d really rather wish I could go back in time about three hours to where none of this was happening, I am glad you told me.”
Greg’s chest felt tight. “It’d feel odd to say ‘you’re welcome’ to that. So I’ll trade one strange bit of gratitude for another: I’m glad you heard him out. Both of us out, really.”
Her answering smile looked a little more like a grimace. “Well, I’m trying, at least.”
“I know.”
Rachel took a deep, shuddering breath before looking up at him. “I’m not ready to give you carte blanche on this. There’re many, many conversations he and I need to have.”
Greg nodded. “I assumed as such.”
Honestly, he wasn’t sure if he would trust it otherwise, if she had just given them permission to do whatever they wanted. Nor, he imagined, would Alex.
“And most of those conversations won’t involve you, or what you want from him.”
She said it like a warning and Greg winced, realising Alex must not have filled her in on all the details of the bond. “They will a little,” he said, and she frowned questioningly at him. “He and I can– it’s not telepathy, exactly, but it’s… He can feel what I’m feeling, and vice versa. Sometimes we can share our thoughts and such.”
It sounded painfully pedestrian when worded like that, but it seemed to get the point across. “And I don’t suppose I can ask you to butt out of those conversations?”
He shook his head. “I can try, but it’s not as easy as that.” He hesitated before adding, “And I can’t pretend that some of what I want won’t bleed through to what he wants.”
Especially knowing Alex, and his tendency to soak up what everyone else wanted like a sponge. Her eyes narrowed and she leaned forward again. “Then I’ll ask you again, and I expect an actual answer: What do you want from him?”
“Split custody?” The suggestion was out of his mouth before he could stop it, and he winced before hastily adding, “Maybe when he has meetings in London, he spends the night at mine? Dinner or drinks a couple of times a month? And– the full moon is always easier when I get to spend some time with him.” He winced again, realising he’d just tried to lay claim to him for easily a quarter of every month. “Christ, that’s a lot, I’m sorry—”
But Rachel shook her head. “No, it’s– it’s not as unmanageable as I thought it might be.” She paused and took a deep breath before telling him, “I’ll keep all of that in mind when I talk to him.”
He jerked a nod. It was more than he could have hoped for. “Thank you.”
Something shifted in her expression, and her voice was a little strange when she asked, “Are there, er, any other weird were– shifter things I need to know about?”
Greg stared at her. “Like what?”
Unless he was mistaken, something like a smile twitched at the corners of her mouth. “Don’t pretend like you aren’t aware of the vast quantities of, erm, werewolf-themed erotica.”
“Oh, Christ, no,” Greg blurted, panicked, because yes, he was unfortunately aware of all the things about knotting and breeding and all the other horrid things that Rhod tended to send him because he found them funny. “I’m not– we’re not going to have magical shifter cubs or something, Jesus.” He wanted desperately to never have to look her in the face again. “We haven’t even decided which way we would—”
He broke off, well aware he was blushing. Rachel was the absolute last person he wanted to have that conversation with. But she just looked almost amused. “I just assumed…. I thought you’d prefer to…”
She trailed off delicately and Greg winced, wondering if it was still too late to just live as a bear for the rest of his life. “Not really about what I prefer, is it,” he muttered.
“Why—” She broke off, her eyes widening. “Oh, because you’ll prefer whatever he’d like.”
She sounded strangely delighted by the idea that Alex would be calling the shots of what happened between them, and how, and Greg grimaced. “Something like that.”
Rachel tapped a finger against her mug of tea. “Do you have any idea how much you lucked out by having that with someone who would never in a million years take advantage of that?”
“I’ve lucked out on every level imaginable,” he told her honestly before pausing and adding, “Well, save for one.”
She managed a small, tight smile. “Save for one,” she agreed. She finished her tea before adding, “Oh, and if I hear you’ve been sleeping outside again—”
He winced. “I’ll give you as wide a berth as I can,” he promised, though his heart sank a little at the thought.
“No, you idiot,” she said impatiently, and he frowned at her. “We’ve got a whole suite for my parents in the garage. You can at least sleep there when you need to be out in this direction.”
Greg was stunned. “Oh.”
She glanced at him. “I’m not– I don’t know that I’ll ever be ok with this.”
“I know,” he said quietly.
She took a deep breath before continuing, “But I know that you love him. And that alone is enough for me to try to find a way to make this work.”
His heart felt unbelievably full. Maybe he really had lucked out on every level. “Can I—” he started, already half of the way out of his chair to give her a hug, and it warmed his entire, massive body that she stood to let him fold her into a gentle embrace. “ Thank you for loving him,” he said softly, tightening his grip just slightly. “As much as I wish it had been me from the start, it makes it easier knowing that he has always had someone who loves him as much as I do.”
She squeezed him tightly for a moment before pulling back to look up at him. “Just– If you hurt him, I will kill you.”
He managed a slightly shaky chuckle. “If I hurt him, I’ll let you.”
She released him and he took an automatic step back. “I’d ask you to stay for tea, but—“
“But you two need to talk,” he said, nodding. “I get it.”
He hesitated for a moment before leaning down to kiss her forehead, like he’d done a hundred times before. Then he started towards the door, pausing when she called after him, “Aren’t you going to say goodbye to him?”
“No need,” he told her. “He’s waiting for me at my car.”
“How do you—” She broke off and shook her head. “You know what, never mind. Just send him back in here when you’re done, please.”
“I will,” he promised.
The walk back to where he’d parked wasn’t terribly far, just up the road, but he could physically feel Alex’s anxiety increase with every step, and he wondered how much he had felt and heard through the bond.
Judging by the worry in his face when he spotted Greg, not much.
“How’d it go?” Alex asked as soon as Greg was within earshot. “Am I packing a bag and moving in with you, or—?”
It was a joke, of course – neither of them thought Rachel would actually kick him out, though Greg had told Alex that he had a place at his if ever it came to it.
But it hadn’t come to it yet, and he reached out automatically to gather Alex into a hug. Alex exhaled sharply, resting his head against Greg’s chest, and Greg just held him for a long moment before ducking his head to kiss Alex’s forehead. “You have the most unbelievable wife.”
“I know,” Alex said, his voice muffled by Greg’s shirt.
Greg held him for a moment longer before releasing him and taking a step back. “Go talk to her,” he ordered. “I did my part, but you two need to work out the rest.”
But Alex didn’t start back toward the house, instead just looking up at Greg, still worried. “You’ll be all right?” he asked, and Greg’s chest clenched at the realisation that some of Alex’s worry was for him.
He grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “Provided you don’t muck this up, I’m on the verge of getting just about everything I’ve ever wanted,” he said, pulling Alex in once more to kiss his temple. “I am more than all right.”
Alex pulled away just far enough to look up at him, those beautiful blue eyes big and solemn. “Greg, I—”
Greg knew what he was going to say, just as surely as he knew that he didn’t need to hear it. Not here, like this. “I know,” he said instead, resting his hand lightly on Alex’s chest, just above his heart.
Alex lifted his hand to set it on top of Greg’s. “I know,” he echoed softly, and Greg swallowed, hard, and hugged him once more before finally shoving gently a few steps towards his house. “Go,” he ordered. “I’ll talk to you later.”
He watched as Alex started down the road, stopping about halfway to wave at Greg over his shoulder. Then he was gone, and Greg sighed, his heart again full of love, and warmth, and something that felt a lot like hope.
Because for the first time since all of this started, Greg was finally beginning to believe that it might all just work out in the end.