fic: um, St. Patrick's Day, yay! (B/C, K/A)
Title: The Persuasive Power of T-Shirts
Rating: PG-13
Warning/Spoilers: none
Summary: Just a St. Patrick's Day ficlet i forgot to post on the actual day. >_> that's what happens when finals eat your brain.
Disclaimer: this is a work of fiction, i don't know any of the people mentioned. this probably didn't happen.
“I’m not wearing that.”
“Come on, Colin! It’s St. Patrick’s Day!”
“So?”
“...Please?”
“No.”
Bradley sighed and dropped his arms. “Fine. I’ll give it to Katie.”
“Fine.”
So he did.
At first she’d looked at him like he was crazy, immature and delusional but then Angel had laughed and said she liked it with a smile Bradley knew was going to be more persuasive than his, ‘It’s St. Patrick’s Day!’ argument.
“Yeah, alright,” she said, still looking at Angel, and took the t-shirt.
When they left the hotel a few hours later, Colin made a point of stopping to gape at Katie for a bit. She put her hands on her hips and stood proudly, her green t-shit exclaiming ‘Kiss me, I’m Irish!’ in bubbly white font.
“I can’t believe you let him talk you into that,” Colin lamented. Katie opened her mouth to retort but closed it again quickly when Angel leaned over and kissed her cheek. She shrugged instead, a pretty blush starting by her ears. It vanished quickly, however, when Bradley leaned in and kissed her other cheek.
“What?” he asked with a grin as she glared at him. “Your shirt told me to.”
“Alright,” Colin said loudly, grabbing Bradley’s arm. “Let’s go.”
The club was fairly crowded for a Tuesday, and far too green, but before long Katie and Angel were dancing like they’d been there all night. Colin watched from the bar in amusement as yet another person tried to chat up Katie with an opening line that had something to do with her shirt, if the gestures were anything to go by. She nodded with a knowing smile and the stranger leaned down, kissing her gently. This particular charmer pulled away after a moment, so Katie danced with him until Bradley -- who had gone out onto the floor after the second guy hadn’t wanted to stop kissing -- cut in smoothly and brought her back to where he and Angel had been dancing.
Bradley seemed to joke around more than he danced, mocking whatever Angel did until they were doing an exaggerated version of the macarena together, laughing and shoving each other as Katie shook her head in amusement.
Before long there was another man at Katie’s side and Angel had apparently spotted him too because she stopped dancing. Just before his hand would have landed on Katie’s shoulder, Angel grabbed her and pulled, kissing her with a bit of force from the momentum.
Both Bradley and the stranger froze, watching in open-mouthed awe as Katie tilted her head and kissed back.
Colin watched them break apart slowly and when Angel started to say something, he saw Bradley turn and march back towards the bar. When he spotted Colin a manic grin broke out on his face.
“Did you see that?” he asked, squeezing in next to Colin as he turned back to the dance floor.
“I did,” Colin grinned back.
Bradley laughed and shook his head slowly, eyes trained on the girls. “Well, that certainly wasn’t part of the plan.”
“The plan?” Colin asked, arching an eyebrow at Bradley.
“What?”
“What plan?”
“No plan. I mean, what? How much have you had to drink?”
Colin eyed the side of Bradley’s carefully averted face.
“You guys ready to go?” Angel asked, slightly out of breath. She and Katie were holding hands and Colin had to try very hard not to stare.
“Yeah, you ready?” he asked, nudging Bradley a bit. Bradley looked at him then, blue eyes playful, and nudged back
“Sure. Time for you ladies to get a room, is it?”
“It is,” Katie smirked, brushing past Bradley, and he looked slightly dazed until Colin laughed and dragged him along to their car.
Bradley rapped on the door to Katie’s room loudly.
“Katie, I want my shirt back!” he yelled when no one answered.
He raised his fist to knock again when the door flew open and Katie was there. Topless. No shirt, just her bra and jeans, and Bradley looked away as soon as he realized what he was seeing.
“Um. Can I have my shirt back?” he asked the door.
“I don’t have it,” she answered and he could hear Angel giggle from inside.
“I can see that,” Bradley said, calmly, still to the door.
“Colin has it,” she said before closing the door in his face.
Bradley blinked and then turned back towards the other end of the hall.
“Colin, do you have-” he stopped though, once the door was closed behind him, because there was his shirt.
“Alright?” Colin asked, crossing his arms over the green t-shirt, but not high enough so that Bradley couldn’t read the print.
“Yeah,” Bradley said, and smiled. He walked over to Colin and cupped the back of his neck with one hand. Then he leaned in and pressed his lips to Colin’s ever so gently. So gently and so quickly, in fact, that it could hardly be called a kiss except for the fact that the intent was there, bright as daylight. Bradley took a step back and laughed shortly, a bit nervously if Colin was saying so. “You’re shirt told me to.”
Colin’s answering laugh was more exhaled breath than anything and, without letting himself think about it, he stripped off the t-shirt in one go. “How ‘bout now?”
Bradley hesitated for a moment, looking from Colin’s eyes to his lips to his chest then back up. He leaned back in slowly, as if he was ready to turn and bolt at the first sign that Colin was joking.
But he wasn’t joking, he really really wasn’t, so Colin leaned in too and tentatively their lips met. When neither of them pulled away after a beat, Colin took half a step closer and put his hands on Bradley’s hips. Which was apparently hilarious, because Bradley started laughing, dropped his face to Colin’s neck and wrapped his arms around Colin's shoulders.
Colin moved his hands to Bradley’s back and tried not to laugh with him. He didn’t manage for very long and soon they were laughing together, at only Bradley knows what.
“Best St. Patrick’s Day ever,” Bradley said into his shoulder.
“Even better than last year?”
“What, last year when you tried to give me alcohol poisoning?”
“You mean last year when you thought you could out-drink a person you barely knew.”
“You weigh like twelve pounds, how was I supposed to know you’d drink me under the table?”
“Bradley, I’m Irish.”
Bradley laughed, pulled back far enough to give Colin a dazzling smile and said, “I know.”
And kissed him.
Rating: PG-13
Warning/Spoilers: none
Summary: Just a St. Patrick's Day ficlet i forgot to post on the actual day. >_> that's what happens when finals eat your brain.
Disclaimer: this is a work of fiction, i don't know any of the people mentioned. this probably didn't happen.
“I’m not wearing that.”
“Come on, Colin! It’s St. Patrick’s Day!”
“So?”
“...Please?”
“No.”
Bradley sighed and dropped his arms. “Fine. I’ll give it to Katie.”
“Fine.”
So he did.
At first she’d looked at him like he was crazy, immature and delusional but then Angel had laughed and said she liked it with a smile Bradley knew was going to be more persuasive than his, ‘It’s St. Patrick’s Day!’ argument.
“Yeah, alright,” she said, still looking at Angel, and took the t-shirt.
When they left the hotel a few hours later, Colin made a point of stopping to gape at Katie for a bit. She put her hands on her hips and stood proudly, her green t-shit exclaiming ‘Kiss me, I’m Irish!’ in bubbly white font.
“I can’t believe you let him talk you into that,” Colin lamented. Katie opened her mouth to retort but closed it again quickly when Angel leaned over and kissed her cheek. She shrugged instead, a pretty blush starting by her ears. It vanished quickly, however, when Bradley leaned in and kissed her other cheek.
“What?” he asked with a grin as she glared at him. “Your shirt told me to.”
“Alright,” Colin said loudly, grabbing Bradley’s arm. “Let’s go.”
The club was fairly crowded for a Tuesday, and far too green, but before long Katie and Angel were dancing like they’d been there all night. Colin watched from the bar in amusement as yet another person tried to chat up Katie with an opening line that had something to do with her shirt, if the gestures were anything to go by. She nodded with a knowing smile and the stranger leaned down, kissing her gently. This particular charmer pulled away after a moment, so Katie danced with him until Bradley -- who had gone out onto the floor after the second guy hadn’t wanted to stop kissing -- cut in smoothly and brought her back to where he and Angel had been dancing.
Bradley seemed to joke around more than he danced, mocking whatever Angel did until they were doing an exaggerated version of the macarena together, laughing and shoving each other as Katie shook her head in amusement.
Before long there was another man at Katie’s side and Angel had apparently spotted him too because she stopped dancing. Just before his hand would have landed on Katie’s shoulder, Angel grabbed her and pulled, kissing her with a bit of force from the momentum.
Both Bradley and the stranger froze, watching in open-mouthed awe as Katie tilted her head and kissed back.
Colin watched them break apart slowly and when Angel started to say something, he saw Bradley turn and march back towards the bar. When he spotted Colin a manic grin broke out on his face.
“Did you see that?” he asked, squeezing in next to Colin as he turned back to the dance floor.
“I did,” Colin grinned back.
Bradley laughed and shook his head slowly, eyes trained on the girls. “Well, that certainly wasn’t part of the plan.”
“The plan?” Colin asked, arching an eyebrow at Bradley.
“What?”
“What plan?”
“No plan. I mean, what? How much have you had to drink?”
Colin eyed the side of Bradley’s carefully averted face.
“You guys ready to go?” Angel asked, slightly out of breath. She and Katie were holding hands and Colin had to try very hard not to stare.
“Yeah, you ready?” he asked, nudging Bradley a bit. Bradley looked at him then, blue eyes playful, and nudged back
“Sure. Time for you ladies to get a room, is it?”
“It is,” Katie smirked, brushing past Bradley, and he looked slightly dazed until Colin laughed and dragged him along to their car.
Bradley rapped on the door to Katie’s room loudly.
“Katie, I want my shirt back!” he yelled when no one answered.
He raised his fist to knock again when the door flew open and Katie was there. Topless. No shirt, just her bra and jeans, and Bradley looked away as soon as he realized what he was seeing.
“Um. Can I have my shirt back?” he asked the door.
“I don’t have it,” she answered and he could hear Angel giggle from inside.
“I can see that,” Bradley said, calmly, still to the door.
“Colin has it,” she said before closing the door in his face.
Bradley blinked and then turned back towards the other end of the hall.
“Colin, do you have-” he stopped though, once the door was closed behind him, because there was his shirt.
“Alright?” Colin asked, crossing his arms over the green t-shirt, but not high enough so that Bradley couldn’t read the print.
“Yeah,” Bradley said, and smiled. He walked over to Colin and cupped the back of his neck with one hand. Then he leaned in and pressed his lips to Colin’s ever so gently. So gently and so quickly, in fact, that it could hardly be called a kiss except for the fact that the intent was there, bright as daylight. Bradley took a step back and laughed shortly, a bit nervously if Colin was saying so. “You’re shirt told me to.”
Colin’s answering laugh was more exhaled breath than anything and, without letting himself think about it, he stripped off the t-shirt in one go. “How ‘bout now?”
Bradley hesitated for a moment, looking from Colin’s eyes to his lips to his chest then back up. He leaned back in slowly, as if he was ready to turn and bolt at the first sign that Colin was joking.
But he wasn’t joking, he really really wasn’t, so Colin leaned in too and tentatively their lips met. When neither of them pulled away after a beat, Colin took half a step closer and put his hands on Bradley’s hips. Which was apparently hilarious, because Bradley started laughing, dropped his face to Colin’s neck and wrapped his arms around Colin's shoulders.
Colin moved his hands to Bradley’s back and tried not to laugh with him. He didn’t manage for very long and soon they were laughing together, at only Bradley knows what.
“Best St. Patrick’s Day ever,” Bradley said into his shoulder.
“Even better than last year?”
“What, last year when you tried to give me alcohol poisoning?”
“You mean last year when you thought you could out-drink a person you barely knew.”
“You weigh like twelve pounds, how was I supposed to know you’d drink me under the table?”
“Bradley, I’m Irish.”
Bradley laughed, pulled back far enough to give Colin a dazzling smile and said, “I know.”
And kissed him.