It Isn't Easy Part-3

[books_and_crows]

Title: It Isn't Easy Part 3
Author:Book_and_Crows
Rating: NC-17 (..overall...)
Disclaimer: Haha no. 
Spoilers/Warning: Nope
Summary: Bradley James firmly believed that there had to be some way to fall out of love with Colin Morgan. He was going to do everything in his power to make such happen. Unfortunately, things did not seem to be going as planned.
Author's Note Sorry! I feel like it's been a really long time since I've updated! Life just kind of bitch-slapped me across the face and then punched me in the gut, for good measure. So yes, excuses, excuses.

Part 1 , Part 2


Katie drove to an empty lot, put the car in park, and cranked up the heat. It wasn’t until the glass fogged up, and the automatic headlights from under her mirror switched off, that she said something. In the total darkness, he could not see her expression, but from the way her voice held a flat pitch, and she stayed motionless-was not a good sign.

“You’ve been smoking”

He nodded, coughed, and tightened his grip around himself. He could still feel the chill under his skin; the heat melted it away slowly like an ice cube under the sun.

Then something bumped his side, and as his eyes adjusted to night, he recognized it as Katie’s splayed open palm. He fished into his coat pocket, and pulled out the packet. He pressed one into her cold fingers, along with the lighter.

She had to shake and hit it, before the flame arose.  He could see the faint outline of her thin fingers, and parted lips then, along with the downward curvature of her nose.

He took a long drag before speaking, “So, he really does, you know, really does…”

He heard her adjust her seat so it flopped backwards at an obtuse angle. “Is the sky blue, Colin? Do birds fly? Of course I knew, you would have to be blind and deaf not to.”

She must have sensed his wince, and seen his form stiffen ever so slightly. He rolled the returned lighter in between his fingers and reflected on how Katie’s words did not have that playful tone they usually held. He could tell by the bite t the very end, the Morgana quality they held.

It could be because he called on her while she was in her sweats and hair rolled into a sloppy bun; but he doubted that. There was some way in how when she first greeted him, her mouth formed into this pursed little line, and green eyes narrowed enough to make her nose crinkle.

“You’re mad.”

“Yeah, but it’s because you’ve done something stupid.”

His laugh held no humor, just pure amazement, “How do you know?” This was, despite that fact that he asked her to come and retrieve him at such a late hour. If it was anyone else outside of Merlin, they would have instantly fawned over him, instantly assumed that Colin was not the culprit.

But instead, when Katie saw him there with his hands fisted in his pockets and smoke in the air; she knew that Colin wasn’t just the victim.

Her voice was muffled from the cigarette between her lips, and she pulled it a centimeter away. With a breath of smoke in her words, “You’re Colin Morgan; you probably haven’t even done a handful of dumb-mental things. And usually,” She tapped the end, and it landed nowhere close to the ash tray under the speaker as movement was nearly impossible in the dark. Most of it landed on the wood below. She continued in her same dry tone, “when people do something stupid they follow by something worse.”

She was not so subtly hinting at the fact he had given up smoking after Parked. He did not used to, in fact the topic was rather taboo, but because filming he had become accustomed to it. A good fag calmed his nerves, eased his mind, and let his worries disappeared. It was a comfort source of kind, the connection unexplainable, because occasionally there would be that little urge, a little Cathal up from his buried script.

However, it wasn’t long after until it was pointed out to be a problem. By Bradley actually, who ‘intervened’ by gathering all of Colin’s clothing, hosing them down with rubbing alcohol, and threatening to drop a lit match onto the pile.

How could he disagree?

“So are you going to tell me what you did?”

He let a long drawl of nicotine fill his lungs. The conversation was surprisingly serious for one between the two of them.  They usually avoided such subject; their friendship thrived on comics and various stages of closet-nerd qualities. These grave matters lay more into Angel’s description. Even with Angel’s sweeter than pie disposition; the topic of her ex’s new romantic endeavors would be an uncomfortable situation.

Katie and Colin did not share their problems. They held a common trait between them, a tendency to swallow their issues until it consumed them with a strangled grip.

“I…just…I don’t want to lose my best mate, Katie, I don’t.” He stared up at the sun roof. The slowly appearing stars were masked b smog and city exhaust. Only the brightest and plane lights shone through. He could feel her eyes boring into him, searching for his face in the abyss.

“Oh Col, Oh Col, tell me you didn’t please, please.”

There was a blaring siren in the background, but his words sounded louder even through his hushed voice“…I’m pretending to date Bradley.”

He heard a soft plunk as Katie’s fag fell onto the seat. He could picture her mouth, wide open until lip stick spread into cracked lips, and eyes larger than ever.

“Holy shit Colin. Like dating, like um couple?”

He buried his face in his hands until he scorched his palm. After enough time passed for her to move from initial shock to understanding of Colin’s current state of breakdown; Katie’s tentative hand gently rotated between patting and rubbing his shoulder.

“…Yeah. I’m so fecked, fucked, Katie-he’s hurting all the time, and I don’t know, I don’t know.” He rambled with only minor coherency.

Her hand drifted to the middle of his spin and moved in slow consecutive circles, with only the slightest hint of pressure, like one may soothe an infant. In her softest tone she whispered, “It’s okay, It’s okay.”

It was not okay. She knew it, he knew it, and it couldn’t be dismissed with two words. The solution was far out of reach, and no matter if she tried to comfort him or tell him words of encouragement it would not change that fact.

Her voice changed from the sweet one to a feminized version of a football coach, “The Colin I know would not let anything like this stop him,” Then more to herself she added with dry irony, “Then again the Colin I know would never let somethin’ like this happen...”

He could faintly make out her face, or at least the dark shadows that indicated the hollows of her eyes, cheeks, under her jaw, and all other contours.

“So what do I do?”

She took a deep breath. The car was now hot-a sticky uncomfortable kind and she groped for the temperature dial. The motion sensitive light clicked on with the presence of her hand underneath it. She could then see how utterly wrecked he looked. The bags of his eyes were like black and purple smeared paint, and the underside of his lips were bitten raw with small faded white teeth marks along the flesh.

“Well,” the bursts of warm air dwindled down to a slow breeze, before it died out all together, “You could always tell him the truth.”

Colin would not like the suggestion, because she herself did not like it. All answers were undesirable, and each would end in horrid events. Either way someone was going to get hurt-it was inevitable. The chemistry on the show would crumble. Because, really, twenty percent of the natural connection between Arthur and Merlin was scripted, and the other eighty rested on Colin and Bradley.

Well, there was one way, one way that would solve everything, a perfect happy ending. That was in a completely opposite world from here, in this empty parking lot with the smell of smoke and exhaust.

Colin was silent for awhile. Silent, until the light switched off and his dilated eyes, tight frown, and fingers curled so tight that the fag bent his hand, were cloaked.

“I can’t. It’s so selish ‘n ‘m such a wank, but I can’t,” he smoothed the crease that appeared across his forehead, “You should see his face when I do stuff, it’s like, it’s like-”

“He’s in love?”

When Colin replied it was only in a raspy murmur that against the sound of his hissed breath sounded something like an exasperated, “Yes”.

Katie moved on to her next argument point, “So you’re just going to keep pretending?” It was less of a question and more of a perplexed statement.  The way each word was spaced out from each other, and the flat neutral pitch.

Colin was for lack of words. He didn’t have an answer; he didn’t even know why he called Katie in the first place. Colin wasn’t an over-emotional type fellow; melodramatics were left for the stage. So when the opportunity came up to discuss such things, he was at a loss for how to properly go about it.

He always just thought it was a very bloke-y thing, nothing to be concerned over. Still, when he insinuated that they should leave it was with great hesitance, “It’s getting late.”

She readjusted her seat into the proper position, and turned her key in the ignition so the engine roared to life. Besides for those actions, she ignored his statement, and continued on the same track as before.

“How long? You’re a good actor,” the word made him grimace, for reasons he could not compile in just one sentence, “But even you can’t keep this up forever.” She caught Colin’s eye as she pulled out of the space.

He lit another fag-discarded the bent one on his lap-and pressed it to his lips. She had not driven far. Katie was not the safest driver; her speeding was one of the many reasons Colin always chose to either have Bradley in the car or ride with him.

For some reason, Bradley obtained this very strange power of control over other’s decisions. Usually he didn’t abuse, and when he did it was for the sake of good fun; sometimes Colin was unsure if he was even aware that he possessed the ability. Though the girls always cooed over Colin, and ‘looked after him’ it was Bradley they truly listened to. Even though they criticized his ideas, they always followed through with them in the end, no matter how mental it may seem.

In one way, it reminded Colin of Arthur. But Bradley did not have the same extreme leadership personality, or authority qualities, people merely liked him. As these thoughts came to mind, his response to Katie vanished. Only enough of it for him to shrug and say, “As long as it takes…”

Yes, Colin supposed that was what it was, Bradley was merely likeable. In fact Colin had trouble finding a reason anyone could be cross with him.

“He can’t, it can’t take that long,” and with a nervous smile and heavy implication, “I can’t um give him er that.”

Katie sighed, deep and so long that Colin thought it would rock the car over, especially at the way her shoulders sank into the steering wheel.

“Oh you really don’t know anything, do you?”

He rose from his slouched position as she rolled to a stop. He could make out his street name under the dim lamp, and he realized after he left this car it would be back to reality, the war in his head, and Bradley. “What do ya mean?”

“Bradley’s been pining after you since, well I don’t know, just since when I saw the two of you together the first time. I thought you were smitten. You just never noticed, Cols.” She ended more sympathetically then before, and with all the gentleness she could muster.

His entire body was stiff and slowly he moved to leave the vehicle. His words were jumbled from the block of the fag between his teeth, “Thank you for this,” he pushed the door open as he finished, “I don’t deserve it.”

Katie wasn’t sure what he was referring to, but she could comprehend that it did not just apply to their drive. So before the door slammed shut she stopped him with a grave seriousness, “No, you just don’t know how to accept it.” Her hand gently tugged at his arm, “And you need to deal with this now Colin.”

____________________________________________________________________

The cold was harsh; the dramatic change from warm to below-a-decent temperature ran through him. The air did not nip to his skin, but focused on individual spots and sucked like leeches, until they matched the temperature around him.

He ran up three stairs and fumbled for his keys, while hopping up and down. That was until a car horn made him jump and drop his keys on the first step.

Katie rolled down her window, and yelled to him, “Hey!” Her tone was light and playful with a flourish at the end of each sentence, “Aren’t you going to thank me for my wisdom?”

He stilled his feet, and caused his knees to wobble instead. He dipped his torso in a bow, and with chattering teeth, “Thank you oh wise Katie McGrath.” He bent down the extra space to grab his keys and rise once again, “I hardly deserve your presence.”

Katie shouted through her window again, “Don’t make me go all Professor X on you.”

With that final comment she closed up her window so only a sliver of space remained. It was just enough for her to hear Colin respond, “I’ll try my best.”

And he would.

__________________________________________

It wasn’t until later that night, when he was huddled on his couch with a cup of tea and a silent film played across his television. It was somewhere close to when he was making a desperate attempt to ignore his cell phone and the pack of Pall Malls in his nightstand drawer that the thoughts from before began to revisit his mind.

Maybe his problem was that Bradley was too likeable-that Colin liked him too much. That was why he was involved with this entire ordeal, because Colin simply liked Bradley too much.

That idea slowly developed into Plan A.

He was ashamed of all the plans, but this one was on the higher ranks. He spent the rest of the evening and week trying to find something dislikeable about his best mate.

Well for one thing, there was that camera. He always had with him-and used it to. That was just fantastic when it was seven in the morning and Colin was heading over to make-up looking like the walking dead. Bradley would be there, decked out in chain male, with the widest grin on his face.

With terrible puns and equally awful singing, he would ease a smile out of Colin. It would naturally set the mood for the rest of the day. They usually didn’t even include those sections-Bradley just liked to film them for documentation sake.

He distantly remembered Bradley saying while half asleep on a plane during their early years of filming, “See Colin when you’re old and senile you’ll always be able to remember when you were Merlin.”

Well, Colin supposed there were worst things.

That was another one right there, Bradley talked weird. He always commented on his accent, (which Colin would retort that at least it didn’t sound posh), but failed to notice the odd emphasis the he, himself, put on syllables. At first, he thought it was just a character thing, but Colin noticed he did it all the time-with everyone’s name.

It was a little funny, a whole lot strange, and a touch endearing.

There had to be something wrong with Bradley, surely he wasn’t perfect.

Oh, when he prepared for interview he would use this strange technique. He would find the nearest mirror and practice a smile; he would adjust the position of his cheeks, tilt his lips, and hold it there for thirty seconds before letting it fall. He did this all without explanation until Colin around their fifth public appearance finally asked for one.

No matter how much Bradley relied on muscle memory-it never worked. That ‘perfect’ smile never made it on camera and instead they got shots of his crooked teeth, quirked lips, and wrinkled eyes. Bradley never seemed to notice his plan always failed, which was fine with Colin, because his natural one was fine, great, in its own humanized way.

Not that Colin liked it or anything.

Bradley always sung, on set, in public, sometimes he only mouthed the words and others it was full out belted. It was always, always purposely atrocious. Because he wasn’t really a wretched singer, they recorded songs quite frequently. Sometimes Colin had a belief that Bradley’s voice was a secret they shared between them, and only a few received a taste.

With disbelief and shock Colin realized that those were some of the very reasons he was involved in this charade-those were why he could not live without Bradley. Only some of them of course, but they each still contributed.

Plan A was destined to be unsuccessful from the very beginning.

_______________________________________________

After that came to an end, he moved onto B. It arrived to him after three days of being pent up in his apartment. He needed to find Bradley someone else, someone better.

This one he was equally disappointed in. It wandered very close to using someone for their well, entire being, and that was something that Colin did not like to do.

He couldn’t exactly subtly set him up with someone, and Bradley with his freaking undisputable honor would rather go blue-balled than cheat. Colin just wished that he could find someone that returned the affections, and the more he thought of this the more the guilt and helplessness ate at him.

On the third day, he thought of Angel. They had been on and off more than once, and the chemistry must still linger. It also must help that they were Arthur and Guinevere, surely the transition from on stage romance to actual romance could not be difficult. Well, maybe not Angel, but there had to be someone. Someone who he could exchange loving glances, and those kisses with.

The thought made his stomach do this obscure little flip. Not anything severe, that Colin thought could be considered a serious illness, but his insides turned over quickly. Like flipping a pancake, the feeling only lasted for the few seconds it was suspended in the air.

Colin did not like it.

Nonetheless, with that, Plan B ended.

_________________________________________

Plan C went into affect two weeks after the incident. Avoidance. The plan seemed to be perfected, with no real complications except for two.

One, was a far more mundane problem, Colin was struggling to survive without his wallet. He was hoping; by now it would mysterious appear after being left at Bradley’s flat. But to retrieve it, or for it to be brought to him would be in clear violation of the plan.

He was able to scrounge up a few dollars around his house, and tap into the spare cash he kept store in various nooks and crannies. But after four weeks, with bills to pay, and a very low amount of groceries -he was starting to become a bit more worried.

That and his cell phone. Katie was hounding him about his choices, and Bradley’s brief apologizes that turned slowly into frustration when Colin denied every offer to meet. Even though he felt no needy, deep attachment to the device, since he only acquired it in his college years; he found it excruciatingly difficult to not respond.

Every new message only made him realize how much he truly achingly missed Bradley.

Oh, wait; he forgot the one other dilemma. It was more…unique than the other two. He could honestly say it was nothing like he ever experienced before in his life.

They were so realistic too. The only way he could tell the difference was how abruptly they ended. Though there were several different types, they all shared a common theme.

In one, Bradley would show up in his doorway his hair would be damp and palms sweating. He wouldn’t do anything but grip Colin by the shoulders and pull him into an abrasive hug. His rain-soaked clothes would transfer the water to Colin’s own until the fabric would cling together when they pulled away.

Every time he would whisper, with the utmost confidence, not a quiver of insecurity in his tone, in pronounced clear words, “love you Col, I love you.”

It could be different. Sometime Bradley appeared lounging on the couch, or laid back against the bed, but every time he would grab Colin and pull him in close. Then he would always, always, whisper into the shell of his ear or the base of his neck with such security that was close to arrogance, “I love you more than anything.”

Colin would wake up covered in sweat and the remembrance of the tickle of Bradley’s hot breath against his skin.

Between the lack of food, sleep, and social contact with the outside world, Plan C failed.

____________________________________________________________

When they saw each other next week it was a meeting that Katie arranged. They did not go out drinking often, but as the date for filming drew near, as always the cast celebrated with several pub crawls, as eight months of sobriety lay ahead.

Colin wasn’t a huge drinker. Mainly because he did not like the bitter taste of alcohol on his tongue the next morning, and by the time he was pissed enough for the drinks to start tasting deliriously good or like his throat would collapse without one, everyone else would be passed out.

So Colin didn’t really have a measure for his state of intoxication because the event would be over (or broke) by the time warning bells rang.

It was a large crowd, one large enough where they could all easily blend into, and any awkward ‘I saw you on the tele’ or ‘aren’t you a wizard?’ could be brushed off without drawing attention. Katie had been very discreet on the details, and it did not help at all that Colin had gotten lost the first five times. She was very quiet on what this new place she found was like, or what had occurred when she went there before.

When he arrived, he knew why.

For one thing it was pitch black except for the lights that flashed and pulsed across the floor. They blocked any vision of the mass of bodies, and made their features unidentifiable by the spinning colors. It was hotter than ever, the body warmth filled the air with the smell of sweat, smoke, and various others that Colin was sure could not be entirely legal.

Of course, of course Katie had picked a rave night.

It was something Colin had become aware (by foolery) when he first came to London. As the pubs seemed quite fine on days, and on some week nights, on others they would turn into this. Where the tables were stripped away, and music changed to something with a solid beat and unidentifiable words.

Colin did not dislike them-with a few drinks he was looser (but still terrible) dancer, and even though the music was unintelligible, and he would become embarrassed of some of his cast mates actions tomorrow, he didn’t mind them too much.

But yes, Colin liked to party, yes he did like these raves, but would he rather be somewhere by themselves in a less dramatic atmosphere? Perhaps. After all you could only really handle being wedged between strangers with perspiration against your back for so long.

Along with having no idea where he was this was one of the very few times he arrived to an event without Bradley. Without the loud, enthusiastic, but at the same time very knowledgeable blonde at his side he felt more out of place than before.

He felt naked.

It wasn’t like when he performed on stage in Young Vic. This was vulnerability in its finest. Even though no one noticed him, not even a glance of attention was sent his way, or knew anything about him; he all felt as though their resounding thoughts were ‘why is he alone?’

Shortly after that panic started to rise, one blob parted from the commotion and caught Colin by the shoulder as he headed towards the bar, lit by a row of glow sticks and a row of lamps above the bar.

“Hey!”  He panted, and as they moved into the glow of the golden lights above the stools he could see Bradley’s cheeks red from either heat or the drinks Colin could smell on him. His skin was burning, when his fingers encircled Colin’s wrist to pull him away.

“There you are!” Colin shouted, and drew his hand back. “Geez, mate, this place is packed.”

Bradley cupped his ear but when Colin started to repeat himself, he shook his head, smiled, and dragged Colin this time by his jacket sleeve away. The crowd in the center dissipated into fewer smaller groups, each engaged in very sketchy activities, and then to pairs whose bodies blended into one instead of two.

“I’ve got something you might want,” He groped in his jean pockets. They were the tighter ones, the ones that fit around his hips and thighs but flared downwards at his knees. His red t-shirt was also smaller than the usual and the white patterns down the middle glowed in the light.

He pushed open a door just outside the back of the bar, and led to a small alley way. It was filled mostly by a dumpster and the smell of piss and garbage. The cement was cracked and the brick wall cold under Colin’s back as he slouched against it.

He pulled out Colin’s wallet, and handed it over, “Thought you may be needing that soon. And all money is intact-I assure you.”

Colin grinned, “Uh huh,” He flipped through it and pretended to examine its contents, “Sure James, I definitely don’t trust that.” He said as though he were actually serious about the matter.

Bradley paused, then after a couple seconds laughed, “Like there was anything worth stealing. Oh wait; no I clearly remember those coupons and library card.”

“Both valuable items!”

“For what? Your grandma?” He teased back.

“It’s for research.” He snorted.

The silence settled then, the things left unsaid thrummed in the air louder than the beat of music inside and the sirens filtered in the background. Colin knew they were not going to speak about it, because that’s not how they behaved, it was not something that was just casually brought up, not for two blokes.

Bradley was the first to break it, “You hate places like this.”

“I don’t hate them,” He replied quickly in an attempt to not be called a senior again and to ease any awkward pauses, “It’s just all very…sexual?”

He burst out laughing so fiercely that his hands wrapped around himself all the way to the darker sweat stains on his sides. His distance from Colin was so close, that he could see the fine hairs on Bradley’s arm spiked up due to the cold, and the drops of perspiration had frozen on his neck.

“Sexual? Col, I was just joking, but you really are eighty.”

A blush rushed up to his cheek bones, and he smiled to cover his embarrassment, “Oh piss off. I just don’t want to see,” Then he switched his voice to a harsh British high-pitched accent, “’King Arthur Ruts against Mysterious Girl’ all over The Sun.’”

When Bradley replied, his tone was different from before. It was deeper verging on husky with the growl starting at the middle of his throat and building upwards. It would have sounded far more suggestive if Bradley had not wiggled his eyebrows while saying it. “Why don’t you dance with me then?”

Colin could just scoff and brush it off, but instead his eyes were fixated on Bradley’s outstretched palm. It took him a few seconds to snap back, and when he did he cheekily replied, “And you think ‘King Arthur Ruts against Wizard Manservant’ will look any better?”

It was a rhetorical question, but Bradley dipped his head in response and stepped closer. He was only inches away from Colin, the body heat from him radiating off and brushing against Colin’s skin. He could smell the magnified mixture of deodorant, cologne and just plain Bradley.

“No one would see, no one would know.”

He looked up through lashes and arched eyebrows with hunched over shoulders. Colin couldn’t respond, His throat felt dry, scratched, but at least his thoughts weren’t scrambled. Actually, it was worse, his mind was blank. Even if he wanted to grasp onto one-it would be like trying to catch air.

He laughed loud and heartily, and clapped a hand on Colin’s shoulder, “I’m just kidding mate; we all know you can’t dance.”

He turned his back to him and opened the metal door, letting the heat and noise rush into their oasis. There would be no one that could see-no one could recognize them amongst the pulsing bodies and lack of fair lighting.

So he agreed with a croak, “Fine, bully.”

__________________________________________________________________________________

Colin forgot how much he disliked dancing. Bradley’s motions were so fluid, more precise with a hidden rhythm than his. It wasn’t as if Colin was absolute rubbish at normal, ballroom style such, in fact their abilities were switched when it came to that aspect.

While, Bradley would trip over his own feet in a basic waltz, he could shift and grind with an inner instinct, that made it look as sexual as could be without verging on indecent. His struggle was obviously apparent, because seven minutes in Bradley rested a hand on his hip and the other on his mid back, to gently guide Colin through the movements with each curve of his body.

There was something exciting about it. Besides the pure primitiveness of how they moved together, which Colin was still seriously uncomfortable with, but the fact that it could be scoffed off as ‘just dancing’ eased his mind set a little. But between the two of them, there was an intimacy, even if Colin wasn’t completely aware of its power.

Here, they weren’t Merlin or Arthur, or even Bradley and Colin. They were just another two bodies, cloaked in darkness, blurred by flashing lights, and surrounded by people. They were only their secret, exposed and open for everyone to see and at the same time completely hidden.

That essence, that thrill of being something else, someone else, and no one in the rest of the world could hear, see, or feel them-caught up with them both. Beneath the thrum of the bass and the strobe light over head, Bradley moved his hand up to the back of Colin’s head and kissed him.

At first, it was hesitant; even in Bradley’s intoxicated state he was probably still clearly aware of the fragility of the matter. At first it was just lips sliding over lips, perspiration and saliva covering each, and torso’s pressing together at the angle.

Then, the next action could have been because of their lacking level of sobriety. Bradley was pissed a little on gin tonic, but mostly just like Colin, because of life in this very moment. The dizzying stimulation that caused both of their minds to shut down and the world to revolve around them in that instant.

Something wet and warm pressed between the gaps of Colin’s lips, without even debating what it could be, or stopping his concentration on his maneuvers, he opened his mouth. The space was just enough, just enough for it to dart past his lips and teeth.

Colin always debated that snogging with someone was kind of grotesque in theory. It was a nasty habit he had; whenever he started to snog the idea always came into his mind. Because, in a way, it was kind of disgusting. Someone’s tongue rubbing and pressing against your own, sharing their own spit, and crashing teeth against each others, was probably one of the easiest ways to spread diseases. Who knows where theirs have been, what they have been doing before this?

In this instant though, he understood why that was the farthest thing from someone’s mind. His was totally gone, because there was muscle pressing down into the groves of his mouth, against the bitten skin of his cheek, and finally on his own.

It was like a game really, as he participated in sliding and pushing his own back. A domineering competitive game. That was really, now that Colin thought, sensual.

Then as their hips collided and metal belt buckles clashed together, he heard a groan. A soft groan that wasn’t audible, if it wasn’t for Colin to feel the vibrations against his esophagus. His eyes snapped open, and he realized then that there, with his mouth attached to him, was Bradley. The events from before, the entire situation they were involved in, flooded back into his memory like a bat to the back of his head. He pulled away with a wet pop, and slippery sweaty fingers removed themselves from Bradley’s shoulders.

“I-I gotta go get some air,” He jerked his thumb in the opposite direction, and bolted out before he could hear Bradley’s reply.

There were a lot of things running through Colin’s mind, but one of the major ones was this dire understanding he had come to.

He didn’t have another plan.

_________________________________________________________________________________________

Part 4