Merlin RPS Fic: We All Write Our Own Endings 3/3 (Bradley/Colin) NC-17

[nu_breed]

Part Two

***

The next few days are spent doing mostly action shots: Ben chasing down the killer through the old aerodrome, the final confrontation between the two of them, and the scene where Toby gets shot.

It isn't the first time Bradley's worked with fake blood, it's not even the tenth and he's well-versed in the feel of it all over his hands: how sticky and cloying it is and how it takes forever to wash himself clean of it.

Colin lies in his arms, blood smeared down his neck and fake blood oozing from his stomach. Between takes Bradley tells stupid jokes and tries to lighten the mood, but he thinks he's probably the only one with tension knots all through his neck and shoulders.

It's a big scene for him and it takes a full day of holding Colin's limp body and holding back tears.

"Listen you little arsehole, you're not dying, okay?" He wipes at his face and smears fake blood across his cheek. "You're not allowed to leave me, Toby, I absolutely forbid it."

"They'll be here soon, alright? Just - you have to stay awake. I'll keep hitting you until you do, just so you know. You think I was an obsessed stalker before? Just you wait, you've seen nothing yet." He shakes him.

It's like role reversal, sitting on grassland, holding Colin like this. This shot for 5.13 took a whole day to film, too, and Bradley remembers being meltingly hot from the sun and the fucking chainmail. More than that though, he remembers the pain of Arthur saying goodbye to Merlin, how hard that scene was for both of them. Colin doesn't usually have a hard time switching off after a shot, it's Bradley who carries it with him and has to physically shake it off afterwards. That one though, Colin was different: the tears didn't stop when the take did and they hugged so tightly at the end of the day, almost as if they were afraid to let go. Bradley can still feel that hug: how tightly Colin's arms wrapped around him as his body shook with sobs, and how hard it was for Bradley to actually breathe.

Bradley's mum had asked him if he was unable to watch the episode afterwards because it hurt to say goodbye to someone he loved. She was right of course, but it wasn't saying goodbye to Arthur that hurt. That scene was more than just a goodbye to Arthur and Merlin, it was a goodbye for both of them altogether and they had both clutched at each other more than they needed to, desperately held on to each other because they both knew things were coming to an end, that Bradley was leaving.

"Fuck." He breaks down then, "Fuck you, Toby. I can't do this without you. Please hold on."

He presses a kiss to Colin's forehead, and it wasn't remotely in the script, but neither is him whispering "I'm sorry" into Colin's skin, and it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

Michael calls cut and Bradley falls back onto the grass, hands clapped over his eyes and breathes deep.

When he sits up again, Colin is watching him intently. "You okay?" he asks, putting out a hand and stroking Bradley's cheek. "You got blood on you."

"Ugh." Bradley grimaces, swallowing down salty tears before he wipes his eyes with his non-bloodied hand. "That shit never comes off."

"We have," Colin says, "the weirdest job."

"Yeah." Bradley stands up and stretches. "I'll be in the make-up trailer if anyone wants me, trying to get this crap off."

As Eva wipes at his face with make-up remover, Bradley stares at himself in the mirror. He thinks about how it felt having Colin in his arms, how it felt like loss when he wasn't there anymore.

Eva gets him as clean as she can, but when he closes his eyes, he can still feel the brush of Colin's fingers on his cheek, how soft they were against his skin.

***

The next block of filming takes place back in Cardiff, so after two weeks in gorgeous, serene Templeton, they pack up and head back to Cardiff to shoot all the internal footage.

"So he hasn't said a thing. I mean, we're talking y'know, mates and all. Just not talking about that."

"So you're just biding your time, then?" Angel asks him when they vidchat on Skype. She looks so happy and he feels a little bit of the weight lifting. Angel's smile was always enough to make his heart burst.

"Yeah." Bradley sighs.

It's harder than he'd ever imagined: being the adult, not being selfish and putting his own feelings before Colin's or trying to numb his emotions by indulging in his own self-destruction.

"It's almost like you've grown up, Bradley." Angel says, but there isn't any heat in it, no malice, she means it.

"Yeah well," he says sullenly, picking at the fraying threads on his sleeve, "it isn't much fun, you know. I don't think I'll make a habit of it."

"Poor baby," she teases, and he feels himself grinning. Everything's so much better just by having talked to her.

The scene they shoot before lunch on Monday is Scene 46. With the exception of the sex scene, this is the one that Bradley's been dreading the most. It takes place in Toby's classroom, starting with an argument regarding Ben's possessiveness, and ends with the two of them kissing.

Kissing scenes don't usually bother Bradley at all, it's all about blocking and there's generally nothing remotely romantic about them. But then he's never actually had to kiss someone that he's had feelings for, so this feels different. Scarier somehow.

"When you're ready," Michael says, "we'll just roll and in your own time, Bradley, just like we discussed before."

Heart hammering in his chest, Bradley leans in and says Ben's line, "I'll ask you again, Toby. Do you want me to stop?" and Colin shakes his head.

"Good."

Bradley puts a hand on the back of Colin's head, fingers curled in his hair and pulls him in gently, brushing his lips softly with his own and then deepening the kiss. Colin just folds into him, and this feels so natural, so good. Colin hardens against his thigh, and he rolls his hips against Colin's, trying to get closer. He's losing control fast and he knows he needs to calm down, but he doesn't know how he's going to.

He forces himself to pull away, whispers Ben's line: "I think we'd better stop unless we want to scandalise the children."

Colin looks up at him and the look of unbridled need on his face, completely naked emotion, makes Bradley's stomach twist with want.

"What if I don't want to stop?"

"Oh fuck you." He traces the outline of Colin's mouth with his forefinger. "I haven't kissed anyone in years, you know. Not since the last time we -"

"Then why. The hell. Did you stop?"

Colin pulls him back in, hands on his scarf and kisses him again, licks into Bradley's mouth. He pushes Colin back against Toby's desk and Colin's hands are under Bradley's shirt now, sliding over his ribs and up towards his chest and when Michael yells "cut", it takes Bradley a minute to step back, not wanting it to end.

"Lovely, guys," Michael says, "just lovely."

It's lunchtime then, and Bradley's vaguely aware of the crew clearing out, heading to Craft Services. It feels like it takes forever, but it's probably only minutes. He and Colin don't move, they just stand there, breathing hard and coming back down.

"I want to kiss you again," Bradley says, not intending to say it out loud, but what's done is done and the fact is, he means it.

"It was - we were - acting," Colin says softly, and Bradley wonders if he even believes it himself.

"Didn't feel much like acting to me," Bradley says. He dares to lean in closer and whisper in Colin's ear, "Did it really feel that way to you? Honestly, Cols?"

"No," Colin admits, shaking his head, "it really didn't."

"I met someone that night in Cardiff," Bradley says. "He was fit and tall and he wanted me to shag him senseless."

Colin flinches.

"I'm sorry. I'm not saying this to hurt you, just needed you to know that - I couldn't follow through on it." He breathes into Colin's neck, "Because I'm fucking crazy about you."

He doesn't want to stop, wants to turn his head just a little further and brush his lips up and down the salt-slicked line of Colin's neck. If he had his way, Bradley would be locking the door and running his fingers, lips and tongue all over Colin's body, making him moan in all the ways he already knows how to, fucking him up against the blackboard.

But this isn't about that. This is about Bradley making Colin know that it's all up to him now. It's oddly liberating really, knowing that there's nothing more he can do and that he's not playing games anymore.

He swears Colin whimpers when he pulls away.

"When you know what you want," Bradley says, "when you're ready to make a decision? I'll be here. Waiting for whatever it is you need."

He isn't running away. Not this time.

"Bradley," Colin says, and his voice sounds rough, stressed.

"Yeah?"

"See you at lunch."

Bradley grins, and gets treated to one of those ridiculous Colin Morgan megawatt smiles, the one that makes his heart feel five times the size and makes his knees go weak. But he has to walk away, because while he may be trying to be an adult, that doesn't mean he isn't still a selfish little boy inside, the one who wants to just take and damn the consequences.

"See you at lunch, Cols," he says, and walks out without looking back.

***

The day they film scene 70, it's pouring with rain so hard that all Bradley can think about while they set the shot up is the sound of it echoing on the tin roof of the warehouse. It reminds him of being a child, the way he always felt safe when the rain was beating down outside and he was all warm and safe inside.

Not that this, today, feels in any way safe.

It's so weird, talking through with the director and your co-star the very intricate choreography of simulated sex, what needs to happen when. It takes Bradley back to watching bad amateur porn where the director yells out, "Okay, Nathan, now suck his cock. Okay Dean, come on his face." So hot, yet so not hot.

Michael likes to work a little differently. He tells both Bradley and Colin what needs to happen in the scene, what marks they need to hit, but because of the fact that he likes his actors to be raw and real and organic, he tells them he wants them to improvise.

It's a closed set, only the bare minimum of crew, because Michael wants Bradley and Colin to feel as safe as they possibly can. Bradley thinks that improvising sex with Colin is actually the most dangerous thing he could think of. He really needs parameters when it comes to Colin, and being told to just go for it and see what comes to you is not exactly helping him to concentrate, or think like Ben and not like Bradley.

When Colin walks over to him to see if he's okay, he just waves him off, lets him know he needs some time to get to the right place. Colin's look is one of recognition; he's seen Bradley like this too many times to count and vice versa. Bradley jumps up and down on the spot a dozen times, shakes his arms and legs and warms up vocally for a few minutes.

Then he's ready.

Michael yells that they're rolling, and Bradley crouches down in front of Colin, sitting on Ben's bed, looking at Toby's shoes.

Colin smiles down at Bradley and says, "Being shot gives a man perspective. Makes him want different things."

"And what do you want?"

"I want you. That much hasn't changed. I just - I've had enough of blame, Ben. We've wasted too much time blaming each other when you could have been -"

"Yes?"

He leans in, mouth on Bradley's ear, "inside me."

Bradley kisses him, hard. He pulls Colin up, hands under his armpits and hauls him up onto the bed. The thing that dawns on Bradley is just how much they fit, even like this, even in the most awkward of circumstances, with people watching and filming and them having to hold themselves in positions that are fucking uncomfortable. The way Colin folds into him though, the way he fucking smells, it's just all so damned familiar to him and he knows exactly where to put his hands, without even thinking about it. They're just lucky that Ben feels that way about Toby too, because otherwise he wouldn't be able to work at all, not with Colin pressed up against him, groaning in his ear like that.

Michael keeps the camera rolling as Bradley unbuttons Colin's jeans, drawing them down, slowly. He bites the inside of Colin's knee and when Colin's head goes back, Bradley lowers his head and bites again, further up this time, closer to the edge of his boxers.

"Cut!" Michael yells. "Alright, set-up for the next shot."

Bradley feels the bottom drop out of his stomach as he looks down and sees Colin staring up at him, blue eyes to fucking drown in. It takes all of his strength to look away, to roll off of him and just breathe.

***

After a full day, it's done, and Bradley was right to be dreading it for many reasons. Mostly though because after hours of carefully choreographed kissing and touching and getting undressed and dressed over and over, Bradley's completely fucking exhausted and never wants to have sex again.

It's much easier to pretend to himself, if only a few hours, that at the end of the day it was all just acting. Nothing real about it.

The next day is their last day of filming, and it feels bittersweet. They film the second classroom scene, where Toby admits to Ben that he knew his sister was in trouble. Bradley longs to do some theatre next, because shooting out of order like this is enough to fuck with anyone's brain, let alone going from happy and sexy to bitter and awkward.

Afterwards, when the crew have applauded them and they've hopped in the car to head back to the hotel, Colin turns to Bradley and asks him softly, "If you could take anything back, what would it be?"

Bradley looks down at the floor and says, without hesitation, "Leaving without trying to get you to come with me."

It's a long, silent drive back to the hotel, with Bradley chewing the inside of his cheek, nervously.

***

Bradley's so exhausted after the day's over that he lies back on his bed, on top of the sheets and takes what he fully intends to be a short nap before the party. By the time he actually wakes up, it's 8 o'clock and his phone's buzzing with message after message of variations on where the hell are you?

He showers and changes and heads to the wrap party in a taxi, texting Stuart to say that he's on his way and please save me some booze. He hasn't heard from Colin, which he's sure isn't intentional, but it doesn't stop his stupid brain from conjuring up images he doesn't want to see: Colin, drunk and pliant, sprawled on a couch with various unnamed men and women and forgetting all about Bradley.

Wrap party sex always was Colin's thing, after all.

When Bradley arrives, it's obvious they've all been partying for at least a couple of hours. There's pounding music coming from the direction of the dance floor and the loud chatter of drunken conversations trying to compete with the bass.

Stuart spots him as soon as he walks in the door and marches him to the bar, saying, "...hell of a lot of catching up to do, Bradley, we'll sort you out."

There are several shots of something green lined up on the bar. Stuart and a couple of girls that Bradley recognises from Crashed hand him shot after shot in succession, which he rapidly drinks, slamming the glasses down on the bar after each one.

"Absinthe?" Bradley grimaces, wiping his mouth. "That brings back horrible memories, incidentally."

"At least you're on your way," Stuart says, slapping him on the back. "Congratulations, Bradley. Job well done."

He smiles and nods, grabs a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, and takes a huge gulp to kill the taste.

"You haven't seen Colin, have you?" he asks, trying to keep his voice as even as he possibly can to stop himself from sounding too desperate.

"Last time I saw him, Amanda was getting him drunk. I think she was saying something about helping him drown his sorrows."

"Sorrows?"

"Yeah, that boyfriend of his was supposed to come tonight, but something happened, apparently. I don't know what, though, I'm always behind on the gossip."

"You and me both," Bradley says, his throat suddenly dry. "I think I'll go mingle, if you don't mind, Stu. Thanks for the hideous shots."

He tips his champagne glass at Stuart and wanders in the direction of the dance floor, trying to get his heartbeat to slow the fuck down. Whatever happened, he's grateful, but he doesn't dare to let himself hope that it isn't just some minor thing.

He finishes his glass far too quickly, nerves making him thirsty, and when another tray passes, he grabs another champagne flute, spilling a little in the process, thanks to his shaky hands.

The dance floor is packed with drunk actors and crew alike, dancing horribly. But he still can't see Colin. He walks away, heading for the curtained room over the other side of the dance floor. It's all billowy white curtains and couches with mood lighting, and chilled-out music. He spots Colin on a couch talking intently with Amanda, their foreheads pressed together. He looks gorgeous, his cheeks flushed and his hair tousled and Bradley can't help but think back to another wrap party many, many years ago.

He walks over to them, clearing his throat to get their attention.

"Oh, about time you arrived, son." Amanda stands up and kisses Bradley's cheek. "We were all worried you'd gotten lost."

"Just a bit delayed," Bradley says. He looks over to Colin and his eyes are focused, intensely blue even in the muted light. "I was thinking I might steal Colin here if you don't mind, Mum, got some stuff to catch up on."

She smiles, and Bradley can't help but wonder just how much she knows.

"Of course." She leans down and hugs Colin. "I'll catch you later, Irish."

"I thought you weren't coming," Colin says, as soon as she's gone.

"Yeah, sorry about that." He sits down on the other end of the couch, angled towards Colin. "Made the mistake of lying down for five minutes and I completely crashed."

Colin nods. "I'm not surprised. You looked fucking exhausted in the car this evening."

Bradley swallows, hard. "I - uh - I heard something happened tonight. With Oliver."

"Yeah." Colin takes a deep breath and picks up the tumbler in front of him, drains the amber-coloured liquid at the bottom and puts the glass down again. "We had a fight. A big one."

"What about?"

"You, actually." Colin looks tired, and Bradley wonders just how draining it must be to be the kind of person who so often holds everything in the way he does.

"I wondered," Bradley says, "why you didn't tell me he was coming in the first place."

Colin looks away, and Bradley feels like punching the air. His heart is racing, and he finishes his drink, placing the flute on the table.

"I think -" Colin stammers, "I think you know why."

"Because it would have been horribly uncomfortable?"

"Yeah." Colin sounds like he wants to say more, but he bites his lip and doesn't.

"Are you glad? That he didn't come, I mean?" Bradley can't help but push it now, there's something warm and liquid growing in his stomach and he moves closer, leaning in so he's occupying Colin's space.

"Yeah. I am." Colin looks down at his shoes, like there's some sort of escape from what's happening now. But Bradley's come too far to retreat now.

"You said you fought about me," he says, his voice slightly broken, raspy. "Tell me - exactly what he said."

Colin sighs, wiping his mouth with his thumb, and Bradley watches the movement, his eyes tracking it almost in slow-motion, noticing that Colin's thumb comes away wet. Bradley wants to just reach forward and take that thumb into his mouth, taste the droplets of sweat and liquor and underneath it, Colin.

"I told him I didn't want him to come to Cardiff. That's how it started, I told him that I would prefer it if he didn't come."

"Why?"

"Because of you. Us. He wouldn't understand."

"So what did he say to that?"

Colin huffs out a laugh. "Well, he said quite a lot. Mostly that he was happy not coming, because then he wouldn't have to watch me trailing after you like, and I quote, 'a bitch in heat'."

Bradley just stares at Colin, holds his gaze and doesn't look away.

"It's true," Colin says, softly. "No one else exists when you're around. Never has."

Bradley sighs and leans forward, lays his hand on Colin's thigh. It's warm and underneath the denim he can feel the shape of him. Colin's right in front of him and he seems far too far away.

"You have no idea," Bradley says, his voice is rough, quaking, "how much I've missed you."

"Yes I do," Colin whispers, and he lays his hand over Bradley's lacing their fingers together. The sensation of Colin's fingers skimming over his is electric, and Bradley's so on edge it's like his nerve endings are in overdrive.

"I was an idiot," Colin says. "I just didn't know if I could do this again, not after last time. It was pretty rough, y'know?"

"I know." Bradley pulls Colin towards him, one hand on the back of his neck. "You know what? We do have a lot to talk about, Cols, but I don't think I want to talk anymore."

"But -" They're so close now that when Colin speaks, Bradley can feel warm breath on his skin. "People will see."

"Then they'll see."

They all know anyway. It's not like he's ever been good at hiding it, even though he thought they were being so discreet all those years ago. Everyone knew then and he'd be shocked if they didn't know now, given the amount of pining he's been doing and the fact they had to snog on bloody camera.

They're not on camera now. No choreographed positions or character motivations, just Bradley leaning forward into the intoxicating heat between them. He brushes his lips over Colin's, soft and featherlight and it feels like it did 7 years ago when Colin dragged him by the hand into that empty room. Colin groans, and it sounds like pure need. The sound of it goes straight to his cock, makes it twitch violently in his jeans.

Colin reaches for him, pushing Bradley back into the couch, moving so he's in his lap: knees on either side of Bradley's hips. This is so much better than the drunken kiss they shared just weeks ago. Bradley takes his time relaxing into it, enjoying it without feeling like he has to rush. This isn't their first kiss by any stretch of the imagination, but Bradley's treating it like it is, like it's a new beginning and he draws it out, ignoring Colin's attempts to take control of the pace. He holds him there, hands gripped tight on his arms and licks slow and deep, reacquainting himself with Colin's mouth.

Colin though, he's impatient. He pulls back, panting, then dives back in, kissing Bradley fiercely, not letting the way Bradley is grabbing him control a bloody thing. Bradley gives in then, just opens for this force of nature on top of him, and clenches his fists tight in Colin's hair as they kiss open-mouthed and obscene. It’s been so long since Bradley's felt anything like this from just a kiss and his want is so fierce, burning in his belly, that it frightens him.

Colin whimpers as he sucks on Bradley's tongue and it's Bradley's turn to groan when Colin grinds his hips down, pressing into him, so hard that Bradley can't think about taking it slow anymore. Fuck that, he just wants to push Colin off so Bradley can get down on his knees and suck him, get the taste of him in his mouth like he's been dying to for weeks now.

"Christ," Colin moans under his breath, "I think we need to - need to stop."

"You - you want to stop?" Bradley can barely get the words out he's breathing so hard, so fiercely turned-on.

"No," Colin says, and Bradley can see that he doesn't, it looks like Colin's aching with it just like he is, the desperate need to touch. "But we are not doing this here, in some half-drunken rush. Not after five years of waiting."

"God, no," Bradley says. He wants to do this slow and private, wants to watch Colin, his head thrown back and his mouth open, his face twisted in pleasure. Wants to hear him beg, making those delicious little half-bitten-off noises as Bradley takes him apart piece by piece.

He wants to make sure that Colin feels the same way, so he reaches out and grabs Colin's wrist, his thumb rubbing at the pulsepoint, slow and suggestive.

Colin moans at the contact and closes his eyes. Bradley loves him like this, uninhibited and raw, not controlled at all.

"I knew this would happen as soon as I saw you," Colin says, breathily. "So did Oliver, it seems.”

Bradley swallows, hard and tries to tamp down on the ugly feeling rising in his chest. "I would suggest, mate, that you might want to refrain from mentioning that name in my presence, at least tonight, because all it makes me want to do is tear your fucking clothes off and fuck you right here on this settee and not care if you come or not."

"Fuck."

Colin's mouth is open and he's breathing hard. Bradley gets his fingers in Colin's hair and pulls him in so he can whisper in his ear, "You like that? Like me being all jealous and possessive, do you?"

"Yes," Colin says, his voice hitched. "Always did."

"I'm going to shag you for hours," Bradley promises, his fingers tight around Colin's wrist. "Can't wait to get my hands on you properly."

"Yeah," Colin groans in his ear, "yeah, fuck."

"Go on then," he says, low and quiet, dropping Colin's wrist and pushing him back, a hand on Colin's chest. "Meet you outside in fifteen minutes."

***

It takes them a good twenty minutes or so to get away. It's the nature of a party like this: everyone's drunk and therefore wants to have a deep and meaningful farewell. Bradley, being the lead, couldn't ever skip out without indulging every member of the cast and crew still standing, not if he cares about not being called a diva for the rest of his career, that is.

Colin gets stuck talking to May and Bradley spends long, long minutes staring at him, completely focused on Colin's eyes and his mouth. The memory of Colin's mouth on his cock slams through him, and he can remember exactly how it feels to be engulfed in that perfect, wet heat. Colin looks up, catches him staring and his eyes widen. Bradley had forgotten what it felt like, to have the weight of Colin's stare on him like this and it's almost too much, such intense focus. It makes him feel naked and when Colin bites at his lower lip, his eyes dark, Bradley has to look away.

Finally. Fucking finally, they're free and they jump into the first taxi waiting on the rank outside the party.

"Novotel please, mate," Bradley says, jumping when he feels Colin's fingers skating up the inside seam of his jeans towards his crotch. It makes his cock throb, and he barely manages to bite back a moan.

He glares at Colin, and gets one of those who me? I am so innocent and pure looks in return.

"That isn't going to work, you know," Bradley says through gritted teeth. "I know you too well."

Colin shrugs. "I don't know what you're talking about," and Bradley can't help but grin at the absolutely transparent effort on Colin's part to provoke him.

He grabs Colin's wrist and rubs the heel of his hand slowly up and down the length of Bradley's cock.

"That's what you want, isn't it?" he whispers, then shoves Colin's hand away. "And that's all you're getting for now, you fucking tease. Just slow. The fuck. Down."

Colin just laughs, and Bradley looks out the window, trying to desperately get himself under control so he doesn't just decide the hell with it and push him down on the backseat and rut fast and hard against his arse, causing the poor cabbie to drive off the road. He's waited too long for this and it's too important to treat it like one of his casual hook-ups. It's Colin, and it isn't just sex, and while he's dying to get his hands on him, it doesn't have to be over in ten minutes flat, he doesn't want it to be.

If only he could get his body to listen to his brain, though, that's the key here and he's just about out of his skin when the taxi pulls up outside the hotel. He doesn't know how he manages to pay, but he does, pulling the notes out of his wallet with shaking fingers.

Bradley's hardly aware of anything when they walk through the hotel lobby, except for the fact that Colin is too far away from him and there are people all around them and he just wants them all gone now so that he can touch. The minute they are in the lift and the doors close, Colin pushes him up against the back wall and gets his thigh in between Bradley's legs, pushing against his crotch.

"Couldn't wait anymore, Bradley, jesus fucking christ."

"Oh fuck." Bradley's head goes back and Colin presses a thigh against his cock. This isn't how he planned it at all and he should tell Colin to back off, push him away, but he's entirely distracted by the feel of hard muscle rubbing him.

The lift dings and they jump apart as the doors open. There's no one there. It takes Bradley a few seconds to realise the lift has hit their floor.

"Come on." Colin grabs him by the arm and walks the two of them to his room, not looking back at Bradley. Bradley wonders if it's easier that way to hold it together, not being able to see his face.

As soon as the doors closed, Bradley pulls Colin in, his hands on Colin's waist. He holds him there, kissing him wet and so deep that it makes Bradley's legs unsteady. This time Colin stops trying to fight it and sinks into the slow laziness of it. His hands rest on the back of Bradley's head, and Bradley fucks Colin's mouth with his tongue, lush and deep.

"Missed this." Bradley sighs, and he takes a moment to mouth at Colin's jawline, making sure to scrape over smooth skin with his stubble. He remembers just how much Colin likes it, and just like clockwork, Colin whimpers.

"Yeah," Bradley whispers in his ear, "there's a lot of things I remember, Colin."

"Show-off," Colin says, his voice shaky. His cheeks are red, his mouth wet and open and when Bradley pulls back and just stares at him, he reaches for Bradley, one hand tangled in his hair and pulling Bradley back in. He rests his lips at the corner of Colin's mouth, licking him there and avoiding him when Colin tries to kiss him back.

Colin groans. "Who's a tease now?"

Bradley just laughs and pulls his shirt over his head, throwing it down on the floor. He toes his sneakers off and drops to his knees.

"May I?" he asks, his hands resting on the buttons at Colin's crotch.

"Fuck. Yes."

Bradley's fingers are thick and useless and it takes him a few attempts just to unbutton Colin's jeans. Colin says, "Here, let me" and helps Bradley get his jeans open and pushed down his hips.

Bradley edges his fingers under the hem of Colin's sweatshirt and he can't even believe this is happening, that he's running his fingers over skin that he's been dying to touch for so long - touch properly, without a film crew standing around watching.

He palms Colin's ribs, skimming his hands over them before he trails his fingers down to Colin's boxers and frees his cock, which is as thick and gorgeous as Bradley remembers. He touches it, his fingers skating lightly over the head and Colin shivers and arches his back. Bradley doesn't know how he's managed to go so long without seeing Colin do just that.

"Been dreaming about this," Bradley says, his fingers sliding slow and deliberate over Colin's cock, "you have no idea."

Colin laughs. "Uh, yeah, pretty sure I do, actually." He reaches out and touches Bradley, his hand gentle on the back of Bradley's head and Bradley moves in, his lips just about touching Colin's cock. Colin inhales sharply and Bradley lets his tongue slide over the head, just once. He smells so good, and tastes even better when Bradley laps at the drops of precome beading at the slit.

"Love the way you taste," he says, before inching forward, taking Colin's cock into his mouth. It's just as hard and hot as he remembers and he lets his tongue drag along the underside when he backs off before pushing forward again, taking him all the way in.

It's been a long time since Bradley's sucked anyone. With the blokes he screwed in clubs or in hotel rooms he never wanted to, but with Colin it was always different. He was always different, and it feels so good to be doing this again, his nose pressed up against Colin's belly and his mouth full with his cock.

"Bradley," Colin whines, and Bradley starts to pull off again, until only the head is left in his mouth. He licks at it, little laps of his tongue as he watches Colin with his head thrown back and his eyes closed, his teeth worrying his lower lip. Excitement coils in his stomach at the sight of Colin, needy and unaware of just how sinful he looks and he shoves forward again, taking him in slow and wet. Bradley loves this so much and he can't help moaning around Colin's cock in his mouth, he drops a hand to his own crotch and just pushes against it.

"God, you're fucking obscene," Colin says, barely whispering, "can I -?"

He gets his hands in Bradley's hair and holds him there. It's all Bradley can do just to nod and not babble yesfuckingdoitColinfuckmymouthplease like a bloody lunatic. Colin holds him in place with his hands and grinds his hips back and forth, fucking Bradley's mouth with as much control as Bradley imagines he can muster. He's not rough, but not gentle either, and Bradley is so ridiculously turned on by this: his mouth full of Colin's cock, the taste of him and the sight of Colin, usually so controlled, so calculated, losing his mind. It's heady and intoxicating, knowing that Bradley is doing this to him, making him as crazy as Colin has made him these past months. He doesn't ever want to stop.

Colin's thrusts become rougher, more erratic and he twists his fingers roughly in Bradley's hair. It makes Bradley giddy with want, seeing him losing control like this. His jaw is aching now, becoming more and more cramped every time Colin pushes in deeper, and it's so fucking good. He traces down the cleft of Colin's arse with his forefinger. It's a promise which just seems to amp things up for Colin even more.

"Yeah. Fuck," Colin groans, and Bradley lingers, rubbing Colin's hole with the pad of his finger.

Thinking about it, about fucking him, it makes Bradley's groin pool with heat. It's all he's thought about for months now and the memory of fucking Colin has always been there, so vivid, even when he was trying to forget about him for the sake of his sanity. He can remember exactly what Colin looks like, legs wrapped around him and his head thrown back, his heel slipping in the sweat pooled at the base of Bradley's spine and the mere thought of it now makes him ache with need.

Bradley thinks about how hard he is, how much he wants to get off and how easy it would be just to shove his hand inside his jeans and stroke himself rough and fast right now. But he'd rather not miss out on what's he's now envisioning in great, dirty detail. Colin shoves in, hard, and Bradley's eyes are watering with the force of it as Colin swears under his breath and comes.

Bradley swallows and looks up. Colin is watching him with the most raw, open expression of need he thinks he's ever seen and when Colin pulls out, Bradley wipes his mouth, watching Colin's eyes track the entire movement of his hand over his abused lips.

"Fuck," Colin breathes out, "that was - I haven't - not in a long time like that."

Bradley gets to his feet. His knees are sore, but he can't bring himself to care. He unbuttons his jeans and pulls them down, along with his briefs. Colin doesn't stop watching him for a second.

Bradley lifts a hand up to touch Colin's face and Colin grabs it, sucking two of Bradley's fingers into his mouth, scraping them with his teeth and sliding his mouth slow and wet down to the base.

"Next time," Colin says, "I'll be on my knees for you faster than you can blink."

"I don't know," Bradley says, mouth upturned. "I can blink pretty fast."

"Are you going to fuck me," Colin asks, stripping the rest of his clothes off, "or just make terrible jokes until I die of frustration?"

"I'm a bit tired," Bradley says, yawning. "Maybe I need a nap, instead."

When Colin shrugs and tries to move away, Bradley grabs him and pulls him in with one arm wrapped around his middle. "Don't even think about it."

Colin pulls back and lays a hand on Bradley's belly, just above his cock, and Bradley feels like his skin is on fire, his cock twitching at the almost-contact.

"You're so fucking hard," Colin says, his voice tight. "Can't wait to feel you."

Bradley kisses him, a hand clutched in his hair and he groans as Colin bites at his lips and sucks on Bradley's tongue. His skin is hot and prickly, pleasure sparking in his nerves, and if they don't do this soon, he's going to come right there, all over himself without any trouble whatsoever.

"Get on the bed," Bradley says, his voice rough.

He turns around, reaching for his gym bag and pulls out condoms and a packet of lube, throws them on the bed.

When he turns back, Colin is on his stomach, looking back at Bradley.

He shakes his head. "Not like that. On your back." His voice is shaky.

Colin raises an eyebrow, but he flips over.

"I can't -" he climbs onto the bed, his hands sliding up Colin's thighs and splaying them open. "I always fucked them face-down, because if I didn't it was your face I saw. I can't fuck you like that. Not today.”

"Jesus, Bradley," Colin breathes and reaches for him, grabbing his hand and pulling Bradley down towards him.

Bradley opens the packet of lube and coats his fingers, pushes two fingers inside. Colin is as hot and tight as he always was, and he groans when Bradley gets his fingers in as far as they'll go, curling deep inside him.

He withdraws his fingers and just rubs at Colin's hole, ignoring Colin's demands for him to speed up, pushing in again, slowly and fucking him lazy and shallow.

"Told you before," Bradley breathes against Colin's thigh, "Not rushing." He drags his tongue all the way up till he reaches the crease at his hipbone. Colin is getting hard again and Bradley fights the temptation to replace his fingers with his tongue, eating him out slow and relentless while Colin writhes under Bradley's mouth. That can wait.

The more impatient Colin gets, the more Bradley slows down. He stops fucking him altogether, taking his fingers away and moving up Colin's body to suck on his nipples for long minutes, biting and licking them until Colin's writhing, pleading for Bradley to get his fingers back inside him.

He pushes his fingers back in, slow, so slow that it must be torture, inching them in until they're as deep as they can go and Colin's bucking his hips forward, trying to get them in even deeper.

"Please," he begs, "I need your cock. Now Bradley."

It's addictive having Colin like this, desperate and mindlessly begging, and Bradley's already thinking about what he's going to do to him after he fucks him. His cock is aching with the need to be inside him though, and he's waited so long for this, wanted it so much that he knows he can't drag it out any longer.

Bradley rolls the condom on and gets Colin's legs wrapped around his back so he can push slowly inside into Colin's gloriously tight heat. It's so fucking good, the way Colin is clamped tight around him and it's almost too much being this close, this intimate. Bradley can't believe he was ever able to walk away from this.

He bottoms out, and Colin whispers, "come on then, do it," and Bradley groans and begins to fuck him with hard, deep thrusts.

Colin is making the most gorgeous, needy sounds and he’s clutching at Bradley, like he needs to touch but he doesn't know where to put his hands. He's watching Bradley, and every time Bradley moves forward, fucking him deep, he can see such raw need in Colin's expression: his mouth wide open, his eyes dark and his face twisted in pleasure. It makes him absolutely fucking wild with lust, and more, and he pushes in even deeper, just screws Colin the way he's wanted to for months, years.

Colin huffs out a laugh. "Don't think I didn't notice your 'tools of the trade' in your gym bag, James. How very prepared and slutty of you. Bit of a hook-up with your cardio and weights, hmm?"

Bradley licks Colin's mouth when he thrusts forward, says, "I haven't. Not for ages. There's been no-one who -"

"I don't care," Colin says, grinding the words out, "don't care about any of that. Just need you."

Colin's hand drops down to fist his own cock and Bradley watches him as he rocks his hips forward and back, driving his cock deep inside him. Colin doesn't take long, and soon he's coming, his head thrown back, swearing under his breath. It feels unbelievable, Colin's arse clenched so tight around him and Bradley can feel his own orgasm building. He shoves inside Colin one last time, as deep as he can go, and it's too much: the heat, the tightness of him and the fact that it's Colin and he comes, intense burst of pleasure crashing through him and he's shaking and moaning, his forehead pressed into the sweat-slicked skin of Colin's neck as he comes down.

Bradley just lies there, panting, utterly broken from pleasure, and it takes him a minute to come down, to come back to himself. Colin's hand strokes at his forehead and Bradley kisses him once, just a quick brush of lips, as he pulls out, disposing the condom in the rubbish.

"Okay," Colin says, stretching, "that was possibly worth waiting five years for."

Colin looks so gorgeous, his forehead beaded with sweat and his hair stuck to it. His mouth is red and used and Bradley can't help reaching out.

"I don't want to stop touching you," he admits.

Colin smiles wide and bites the pads of Bradley's fingers when he pulls away. "So don't."

***

When he wakes the next morning, Bradley doesn't have second-thoughts or crippling self-doubt. Just an overwhelming feeling that things are more right than they have been in a long time.

They eat breakfast in bed, naked, and when Colin spills orange juice on him, because he is the clumsiest wanker in the entire United Kingdom when he's satiated and half-asleep, Bradley doesn't even care.