I'll Go With You, But I Don't Wanna Touch You.
I don't even know, you guys. I wasn't even trying to write more Teen Wolf RPF, but then I woke up and did and WHAT IS MY LIFE? I'm going to go hang my head in shame and maybe drown my sorrows in all the Coke Zero I can fit in my body.
Title: I'd Better Find Your Heart
Pairing: Colton Haynes/Dylan O'Brien
Word Count: 3,922
Rating: R
Summary: Dylan's like the Spanish Inquisition and Colton is conquered by his awkward, flailing charms.
Disclaimer: Real people doing completely made-up things and liking it. Not anything like reality.
Author's Note: Way more angsty than I'm used to. Mentions of mild violence and a homophobic slur, but I swear it ends happily. And if you think you found a Dr. Who reference in there, please note that it was a totally happy accident, but I'll take credit for it because I'm shameless like that.
Unlike some people, Colton gets irony; can identify it, understands it, and pretty much lives it right now.
Case in point: he's playing Jackson, who is every guy who ever shoved him into a locker, beat him up after class, and called him "faggot" back when he was in high school. He'd laugh at how his life plays out, but every time he has to ram Posey into a locker, he feels a sick familiarity; remembers when it was his face shoved up against metal and hands digging hard into his flesh to keep him there.
The victim playing bully and doing it really well because he knows how it goes. Irony.
Colton hates playing these kinds of scenes, hates reliving his high school drama from the other side, but he does it because it's the role, it's what's asked of him, and he's not fucking up his career by being known as 'difficult' when he's just getting started. But he never enjoys it, and Posey seems to get that because he's always ready with a quick hug and a joke after the scene's done, rubbing Colton's shoulders like he's a prize champion and cracking wise about unintentional boners and Jackson being Scott's secret boyfriend.
Posey's the kind of guy who knows how to diffuse tension with humor, and Colton's grateful to him for the effort. He gets moody enough as it is, living by himself while filming and having too much time to think about everything, and he doesn't need to bring that shit to the set.
"Come by the house and we'll play Halo," Posey offers on his way out, and Colton can see O'Brien and Hoechlin waiting by their cars, waving them both over. "We'll get drunk and kill a bunch of stuff and you can crash on the couch if it gets too late."
It's on the tip of his tongue to decline, to just go home and eat something bad for him and watch 'Ghost' for the millionth time and cry in all the same places, but Posey's giving him a pleading look, and O'Brien and Hoechlin are giving him hangdog puppy faces from ten yards away, and it's not like he hasn't already watched the pottery scene enough times to memorize it. "Fine," he says, trying not to laugh as Posey turns and gives the guys the thumbs-up signal, giving in and laughing when both guys whoop and high-five each other. "But no drawing dicks on my face if I fall asleep first."
"Nuh-uh," Posey smirks. "Can't do that, bro. House code is if you fall asleep first, you're fair game."
"Jerkoffs," Colton sighs, but he gets in his car and heads to their house anyway.
O'Brien falls asleep first. Hoechlin draws a realistic cock on his cheek, Posey puts his hand in warm water, and Colton outlines his bowtie mouth in a vermilion lipstick that looks much too good on him for Colton's peace of mind.
That's how it starts.
***
O'Brien is tall and lanky and young enough that he still hasn't grown fully into his body, is still figuring out how to move and make his body do what he wants it to do. He's confident on the baseball field, but when it comes to doing the action scenes, he's a little more hesitant. Sometimes, Colton watches him work with the stunt coordinator, blocking out his moves, practicing the running and falling a few times until he's got it.
He's the kind of awkward that Colton remembers being when he was younger, back when he didn't know what he was capable of, and there's a certain hilarity in thinking of Dylan as impossibly young when Colton is only three years older than him, but Colton doesn't think he'd appreciate the joke. Hoechlin understands because he's older and has more experience; he knows the ins and outs of this business and how easily it can turn on you, so he's silently taken on the role of group dad, shielding the gang from invasive questions by deflecting when he can, being solidly in their corner when they need the support, and pretty much being their rock at all times. Colton's grateful for that kind of support, a rarity in his world, and one he's pretty sure won't last because he's cynical that way.
Dylan turns and sees Colton watching him, waves to him and blows him a kiss. Probably as a joke because he's that kind of guy, but Colton remembers the shape of his mouth in vivid detail, the lush lower lip and the bow of the top that he'd shaped with lipstick. He remembers how his heart had raced as he'd looked over at Dylan's scarlet mouth and how he'd wanted to kiss it, tongue it open until Dylan woke up and kissed him back. How he still wants to do it, even though it's daytime and Dylan isn't wearing lipstick, and how he shouldn't because he knows that he's the only one feeling this way.
He waves back, gives a smile he doesn't feel, and walks away. He wonders if he can make it through filming without giving away what he's feeling. He wonders if Dylan likes him, not wants him, but just likes him, as a person, as a friend.
He wonders when O'Brien became Dylan.
***
"You'd date me, right?"
Colton's hiding under Dylan's bed while Hoechlin's crouched down in Dylan's closet, both of them waiting patiently for the world's biggest fraidy cat to come in for a change of clothes so they can scare the shit out of him. It's Hoechlin's plan, of course, because although he's a nice guy, he also has two deranged brothers, and this is apparently how they show affection. Colton can't fault him because he has a brother as well, so he knows how it goes.
"What?" Hoechlin sounds baffled by Colton's question, which, admittedly, came out of nowhere.
"Would you date me?" Colton repeats patiently, making a face at the dustballs under Dylan's bed. Jesus, didn't this guy ever clean up? "You know, if you were into guys and all," he adds in case Hoechlin takes offense. He probably won't because he's not an asshole like that, but Colton tends to err on the side of caution these days.
There's a brief silence as Hoechlin thinks it over, or at least Colton thinks he's thinking it over. There's a vicious, insistent part of him that says he's probably fucked up his friendship with Hoechlin by asking this question, by being so needy, and then Hoechlin says, "Yeah, I would."
"Really?"
Hoechlin has a pleasant laugh, kind of low and deep like it comes from his belly. "Totally, dude. You're hot and funny and you're the king of video bowling."
Colton groans and drops his forehead down the floor, pulling away at the last minute when he remembers how filthy the floor actually is. "I forget what a guy you are sometimes," he mutters, and smiles when he hears Hoechlin snort with laughter.
"I'm just saying," Hoechlin continues, all nonchalance and cheerful good humor, "I'd suck your dick."
Colton's quiet for a moment, thinking about that. "You think Dylan would date me?" Which is the question he'd really wanted to ask, but he knows you don't just start with the obvious questions; you've got to hint at it, work your way up to it, distract people with other questions until you can slip the real question in with no one being the wiser.
Hoechlin makes a non-committal sound. "Dunno. Why don't you ask him?"
Colton rolls his eyes, even though he knows it can't be seen. Of course, all his sneak tactics are completely wasted if the guy he's questioning doesn't give him a real answer. "Because I'm asking you, jackass."
"Man, I don't know." Hoechlin's starting to sound irritated and Colton gives up on getting an answer out of him. "I'm not his assistant, I don't get guys for him."
"All right, fine," Colton sighs, hoping that Dylan will come home already. His leg is starting to cramp up and he's covered in dust and disappointment.
"He probably would, though," Hoechlin says after a minute, sounding thoughtful, and Colton's traitorous heart skips a beat at that.
He's about to say more, but the downstairs door opens and there's the distinctive tread on the stairs that means Dylan's arrived, and they don't say anything more until Hoechlin's made Dylan shriek and Colton's scared the guy into a near cardiac arrest by grabbing his feet from under the bed.
"You assholes," Dylan spits out, lying on the bed and clutching his heart like he's afraid it's going to thump out of his chest. "Why am I even friends with you?" Hoechlin's laughing hard enough that he can't actually form words, so Colton smirks his response. Dylan just flips them off. "I hate you guys so much," he says with feeling.
Colton flops down on the bed next to him, resting his head on Dylan's shoulder. He tries not to feel thrilled when Dylan tilts his head toward him, his cheek resting on the top of Colton's head, but he utterly fails. "You know we're your favorites," he tells Dylan.
"Yeah," Hoechlin chimes in from Dylan's other side. "We are."
"Fuck you guys," Dylan retorts. "Crystal and Posey are my favorites now. They would never do this shit to me."
Colton makes a rude noise. "Crystal is mean and Posey goes along with anything she'd suggest. You know that."
Dylan sighs and scrubs at his face. "You all suck."
Hoechlin sits up and pets Dylan's head, scruffing through the short hairs until some of the tension eases out of him. "You're just going to have to deal with it," he says, sympathy in his voice. "Or start scaring back. We could help."
Dylan looks over at Colton, back up to Hoechlin. "This is probably going to end badly, isn't it?"
Colton grins at the dismayed look on Dylan's face. "Declarations of war," he admits.
"Pranks gone wild," Hoechlin agrees, looking amused.
"Complete madness."
Sighing, Dylan turns and hides his face in Colton's shoulder, and Colton hopes to God that the guy can't hear the way his heart is trying to pound its way out of his chest. "Tell my mother I love her," he says, sounding forlorn, his voice muffled a bit by Colton's shirt. "Give my regards to Broadway."
"You will be remembered in songs," Hoechlin says, sounding solemn, and only Colton can see the crazy gleam in his eyes that means shit's about to go down. Hoechlin's way crazier than people give him credit for and Colton suspects the next few weeks are going to be total chaos. He only hopes that Jeff doesn't snap and fire their asses when this spills over onto the set.
He really shouldn't be as excited as he is, but he finally feels like he belongs to something, like he has a place here, so he might as well enjoy it while he can.
***
The thing with Dylan had come as a complete surprise, really. Colton had always thought that if he was going to fall for a guy, it'd be someone like Hoechlin; someone easygoing and grounded, someone who was a veteran of the business and knew the value of discretion. Colton would've been safe with Hoechlin. He wouldn't have had to worry if things went wrong because Hoechlin knows how to play the game, and it's part of why Colton likes him so much; he gets it.
Dylan's some random guy from New York who suddenly got pulled into the spotlight because he made funny videos, and he's still struggling to find his balance in this crazy new world of constant cameras, artless interviewers, and public attention. He has no walls built up, no safety net to fall back on, and if he fails, he loses everything. Colton has no idea how the kid isn't shitting himself with fear because just thinking about it is enough to make Colton's anxiety flare up again.
Colton's been in front of cameras since he was fifteen. He understands how to hide himself, the real him, from the cameras and the reporters and the fans; he knows how to give people what they want to see and how to deflect and joke around when the invasive questions comes up. He knows what he has to lose if he falls, learned it in high school back when he was young enough to not know how to fight back, and the fact that Dylan is completely open and honest with everyone, regardless of their agenda, is fucking terrifying. He needs a goddamn keeper before he gets hurt, and Colton doesn't think it can be him because he's barely making it through this mess intact, and he's done this before.
To make matters worse, Dylan has apparently taken it on himself to be Colton's one-man cheerleading squad and all-around blankie. He sneak-hugs Colton after some of the rougher scenes with Hoechlin, rubbing soothing circles against his back while Colton takes deep breaths and wonders if psychological wounds ever heal or if they just keep bleeding forever. He mocks Colton's freckles and his hair and his clothes with so much affection that Colton can't even bring himself to get upset about the slurs against his favorite shirts. He drags Colton out to the house when Colton gets into one of his moods and hates everyone in the world, makes him play Karaoke Revolution and feeds him awful drink combinations until Colton is laughing himself sick.
Even with the mother of all hangovers, Colton wakes up feeling better than the day before, and all the mocking comments about him crying over Adele (Crystal, who is mean, but in a way that Colton likes) and his terrible karaoke skills (everyone else, which is rich considering that Hoechlin is probably legally tone-deaf) just make him grin and feels like he's one of the gang.
In retrospect, it's not really surprising that he's fallen hard for Dylan. It feels inevitable that after all this time spent together, after all the care Dylan gives him without expecting anything in return, Colton would look at him flailing around as he shows Posey some ridiculous dance move he's just invented, and think, 'I want him.'
What's really surprising is the part where he finds out that Dylan wants him back.
***
Dylan's in his lap, his hips slotted against Colton's, and his teeth sharp as he bites Colton's lower lip. "Come on," he pants, tightening his fingers in Colton's hair and pulling until Colton hisses and shoves up into him. "Do it, c'mon, I want it."
It's late at night, they're in a limo on their way home from some awards after-party, and Dylan's dick is hard against Colton's thigh. His mouth tastes sweet, and Colton's about to come in his designer jeans from the way Dylan's licking into his mouth, nosing his cheek with something like affection. "I can't," he gasps, moaning when Dylan shamelessly rides his thigh. "Dylan, I can't-- not here-- fuck, I can't--"
"Do me," Dylan murmurs, sounding wrecked, high color in his cheeks as Colton grabs his ass and pushes him down into his lap. "Oh, fuck, Colton, c'mon, do me, do me right now--"
"We are in a fucking limo," Colton bites out, torn between frustration and need, wanting to lay Dylan down and just ruin him and knowing he won't be able to do it. "We're going to be at your house soon."
Dylan gives him a filthy, open-mouthed kiss that takes his breath away. "Make him drive around town some more."
"I can't--"
"Do it," Dylan demands, and Colton is beyond aroused by the lack of give in Dylan's voice. "Pay him whatever he wants, just do me already."
"You pushy little fuck," Colton breathes, holding Dylan steady for the five minutes it takes to negotiate the cost of the extra time and a little extra cash just in case something happens.
By the time he's done, the partition is up and the limo is moving again. Colton's got Dylan down on the seat, pressing his face against the bulge in his pants while Dylan twists and writhes underneath him. He smells like need and desire, like clean clothes and faint cologne, and Colton licks and sucks Dylan through his pants until Dylan is yanking on his hair and shoving him harder against his groin, riding his face until Colton has to pull away to be able to breathe again.
His hands shake as he undoes Dylan's pants, feeling his nerves sing at the steady stream of "pleasepleaseplease" coming out of Dylan's mouth, and Colton reaches in and palms Dylan's cock, feeling fiercely pleased when Dylan arches up hard and says his name in a shaky voice. He does it again, and again, until Dylan is trembling and speaking in broken words that all sound like Colton's name, and only then does Colton bend his head and suck Dylan in his mouth, taking him all the way down and swallowing.
Dylan falls apart with a satisfying yell, his back arching up in a tight bow as he shakes and cries and comes. Colton's throat is sore by the time Dylan lets him go, but he's too hard to care, too needy to pay attention to anything but the urge to jerk off all over Dylan again and again until he's raw. "C'mon," Dylan says in a quiet murmur, because he has no fucking sense of self-preservation and doesn't know enough to keep his mouth shut when Colton is this gone. "Come on my face, you know you want to--"
"Shut the fuck up." Shaking with need, Colton straddles his torso and unzips his jeans, untucking himself and watching Dylan's eyes darken as he sees Colton's dick for the first time. "Stop talking, for once in your life," he rasps, but Dylan's not that guy, never that cautious, or sane, to begin with.
"I can suck you if you want," he offers with a wicked little smile, and Colton loses it, props himself up against the side of the limo and strips his cock with rough, vicious pulls while Dylan murmurs filthy things to him, all the things he wants to do with Colton, all the fantasies he's had about Colton's mouth and where he could put it. "I've never had a tongue up my ass," he says in a soft voice. "You could do that to me too. I think I'd like it."
"Oh, God," Colton cries, feeling his orgasm pull at the base of his spine, feeling himself splinter at the constant barrage of Dylan's voice and his words and the thought that he could have everything. "Fuck, fuck, Dylan--"
"C'mon, baby, come on me." Dylan reaches up and clutches Colton's thighs, his fingers digging into the muscle, and Colton lets everything go and just breaks apart to the sound of Dylan's encouraging murmurs.
By the time he's coherent, he's fairly clean and his clothes have been put to rights again. Dylan had cleaned them up with wet wipes he'd found in his pocket. "And this is why ribs are awesome because they come up with their own clean-up kit," he tells Colton cheerfully as he wipes the jizz off his face and his shirt, which is now totally ruined. Colton can't bring himself to care about that because he's still trying to get over the fact that he came all over Dylan and he kind of wants to do it again.
"See," Dylan says when he's done and the garbage is put away in a discreet can on the side, "this was totally fun. We should do this again."
"We're not fucking in limos again," Colton says, wincing at how hoarse his voice sounds. "Ever."
Dylan makes a moue of disappointment. "Spoilsport." He leans in and curls into Colton, sighing happily when Colton wraps his arms around him and presses a kiss to his head. "Okay, I'm ready for bed. Take me home, Jeeves."
Colton laughs, feeling weirdly fragile but happy with the way Dylan is wrapped around him like a lovesick octopus. "Your home or mine?"
Dylan tilts his face up to Colton's, his lips pursed in thought, and Colton has to kiss him for that because he can't resist that mouth. "Which one has the bigger bed?"
Colton's grin widens. "Mine. Yours is half a bunk bed because you're secretly twelve."
"Fuck you, bunk beds are cool," Dylan scowls, but his face eases into a smile when Colton nips his mouth. "Seriously, though, your place?"
"My place," Colton agrees, and makes it happen while Dylan noses at his throat and presses light kisses against his jaw. Colton lets him because he wants everything Dylan has to give, even the sweetness that's too much for Colton's over-worked nerves right now. But he takes it because he wants it, because it's Dylan and Colton finally gets to have him the way he's wanted for a while.
Dylan nudges him. "Wanna go again before we reach your place?"
Colton swats the back of his head, tries not to smile when Dylan giggles. "Shut up," he says, unable to stop himself from sounding fond and soft and open, all the things he's not with anyone else.
***
At one point, they fuck in Colton's car with Dylan spread all over the backseat and Colton buried deep inside him. And the time after that, in Dylan's bed when the guys are out at some party, and Colton almost falls off the bed every five minutes and Dylan giggles his way through all of it, except for the part where he's moaning Colton's name as Colton rims him, spreads him apart, and fucks him through the mattress.
Someday, he thinks as Dylan sprawls over him, snoring softly into his shoulder, he's going to find the words to tell Dylan what this all means to him. Maybe he'll even tell him the stories of who he was and try to make the guy understand that he can't just go around giving himself to everyone who asks because he's going to have nothing of himself left, and Colton doesn't want him to ever lose that sweetness of his. He loves this stupid, smart, funny guy who never hides himself from anything and opens his heart to everyone, and he's going to beat the shit out of anyone who tries to hurt him. Or maybe get Hoechlin to beat them up, whatever. His point stands: Dylan's his and Colton's protective of him and he won't apologize for any of it.
Sometimes, Colton marvels at how weird and good his life is, a common thought he has after he's pounded Dylan through the mattress and they both collapse from exhaustion. He doesn't really have a plan for any of this -- you don't really plan for someone like Dylan, the guy just happens -- but he's managed to make it this far without ruining everything, so he figures he can just relax for once and enjoy it.
In the meantime, he's going to spend tomorrow helping Holland prank Posey like she's been threatening to for weeks. Maybe if he has time, he'll even blow Dylan in his car and see if he can't make him lose complete coherency for once.
It's as much of a plan as he's got for now, and he's good with it. He's learning to be good with it.
One more day and I'm back in Toronto with my family! And then in less than a month, we move to our new place. I am so excited!
This entry was originally posted at Dreamwidth. Please comment anywhere you feel has the best icons to use to dazzle me. I'm really easy.
Title: I'd Better Find Your Heart
Pairing: Colton Haynes/Dylan O'Brien
Word Count: 3,922
Rating: R
Summary: Dylan's like the Spanish Inquisition and Colton is conquered by his awkward, flailing charms.
Disclaimer: Real people doing completely made-up things and liking it. Not anything like reality.
Author's Note: Way more angsty than I'm used to. Mentions of mild violence and a homophobic slur, but I swear it ends happily. And if you think you found a Dr. Who reference in there, please note that it was a totally happy accident, but I'll take credit for it because I'm shameless like that.
Unlike some people, Colton gets irony; can identify it, understands it, and pretty much lives it right now.
Case in point: he's playing Jackson, who is every guy who ever shoved him into a locker, beat him up after class, and called him "faggot" back when he was in high school. He'd laugh at how his life plays out, but every time he has to ram Posey into a locker, he feels a sick familiarity; remembers when it was his face shoved up against metal and hands digging hard into his flesh to keep him there.
The victim playing bully and doing it really well because he knows how it goes. Irony.
Colton hates playing these kinds of scenes, hates reliving his high school drama from the other side, but he does it because it's the role, it's what's asked of him, and he's not fucking up his career by being known as 'difficult' when he's just getting started. But he never enjoys it, and Posey seems to get that because he's always ready with a quick hug and a joke after the scene's done, rubbing Colton's shoulders like he's a prize champion and cracking wise about unintentional boners and Jackson being Scott's secret boyfriend.
Posey's the kind of guy who knows how to diffuse tension with humor, and Colton's grateful to him for the effort. He gets moody enough as it is, living by himself while filming and having too much time to think about everything, and he doesn't need to bring that shit to the set.
"Come by the house and we'll play Halo," Posey offers on his way out, and Colton can see O'Brien and Hoechlin waiting by their cars, waving them both over. "We'll get drunk and kill a bunch of stuff and you can crash on the couch if it gets too late."
It's on the tip of his tongue to decline, to just go home and eat something bad for him and watch 'Ghost' for the millionth time and cry in all the same places, but Posey's giving him a pleading look, and O'Brien and Hoechlin are giving him hangdog puppy faces from ten yards away, and it's not like he hasn't already watched the pottery scene enough times to memorize it. "Fine," he says, trying not to laugh as Posey turns and gives the guys the thumbs-up signal, giving in and laughing when both guys whoop and high-five each other. "But no drawing dicks on my face if I fall asleep first."
"Nuh-uh," Posey smirks. "Can't do that, bro. House code is if you fall asleep first, you're fair game."
"Jerkoffs," Colton sighs, but he gets in his car and heads to their house anyway.
O'Brien falls asleep first. Hoechlin draws a realistic cock on his cheek, Posey puts his hand in warm water, and Colton outlines his bowtie mouth in a vermilion lipstick that looks much too good on him for Colton's peace of mind.
That's how it starts.
***
O'Brien is tall and lanky and young enough that he still hasn't grown fully into his body, is still figuring out how to move and make his body do what he wants it to do. He's confident on the baseball field, but when it comes to doing the action scenes, he's a little more hesitant. Sometimes, Colton watches him work with the stunt coordinator, blocking out his moves, practicing the running and falling a few times until he's got it.
He's the kind of awkward that Colton remembers being when he was younger, back when he didn't know what he was capable of, and there's a certain hilarity in thinking of Dylan as impossibly young when Colton is only three years older than him, but Colton doesn't think he'd appreciate the joke. Hoechlin understands because he's older and has more experience; he knows the ins and outs of this business and how easily it can turn on you, so he's silently taken on the role of group dad, shielding the gang from invasive questions by deflecting when he can, being solidly in their corner when they need the support, and pretty much being their rock at all times. Colton's grateful for that kind of support, a rarity in his world, and one he's pretty sure won't last because he's cynical that way.
Dylan turns and sees Colton watching him, waves to him and blows him a kiss. Probably as a joke because he's that kind of guy, but Colton remembers the shape of his mouth in vivid detail, the lush lower lip and the bow of the top that he'd shaped with lipstick. He remembers how his heart had raced as he'd looked over at Dylan's scarlet mouth and how he'd wanted to kiss it, tongue it open until Dylan woke up and kissed him back. How he still wants to do it, even though it's daytime and Dylan isn't wearing lipstick, and how he shouldn't because he knows that he's the only one feeling this way.
He waves back, gives a smile he doesn't feel, and walks away. He wonders if he can make it through filming without giving away what he's feeling. He wonders if Dylan likes him, not wants him, but just likes him, as a person, as a friend.
He wonders when O'Brien became Dylan.
***
"You'd date me, right?"
Colton's hiding under Dylan's bed while Hoechlin's crouched down in Dylan's closet, both of them waiting patiently for the world's biggest fraidy cat to come in for a change of clothes so they can scare the shit out of him. It's Hoechlin's plan, of course, because although he's a nice guy, he also has two deranged brothers, and this is apparently how they show affection. Colton can't fault him because he has a brother as well, so he knows how it goes.
"What?" Hoechlin sounds baffled by Colton's question, which, admittedly, came out of nowhere.
"Would you date me?" Colton repeats patiently, making a face at the dustballs under Dylan's bed. Jesus, didn't this guy ever clean up? "You know, if you were into guys and all," he adds in case Hoechlin takes offense. He probably won't because he's not an asshole like that, but Colton tends to err on the side of caution these days.
There's a brief silence as Hoechlin thinks it over, or at least Colton thinks he's thinking it over. There's a vicious, insistent part of him that says he's probably fucked up his friendship with Hoechlin by asking this question, by being so needy, and then Hoechlin says, "Yeah, I would."
"Really?"
Hoechlin has a pleasant laugh, kind of low and deep like it comes from his belly. "Totally, dude. You're hot and funny and you're the king of video bowling."
Colton groans and drops his forehead down the floor, pulling away at the last minute when he remembers how filthy the floor actually is. "I forget what a guy you are sometimes," he mutters, and smiles when he hears Hoechlin snort with laughter.
"I'm just saying," Hoechlin continues, all nonchalance and cheerful good humor, "I'd suck your dick."
Colton's quiet for a moment, thinking about that. "You think Dylan would date me?" Which is the question he'd really wanted to ask, but he knows you don't just start with the obvious questions; you've got to hint at it, work your way up to it, distract people with other questions until you can slip the real question in with no one being the wiser.
Hoechlin makes a non-committal sound. "Dunno. Why don't you ask him?"
Colton rolls his eyes, even though he knows it can't be seen. Of course, all his sneak tactics are completely wasted if the guy he's questioning doesn't give him a real answer. "Because I'm asking you, jackass."
"Man, I don't know." Hoechlin's starting to sound irritated and Colton gives up on getting an answer out of him. "I'm not his assistant, I don't get guys for him."
"All right, fine," Colton sighs, hoping that Dylan will come home already. His leg is starting to cramp up and he's covered in dust and disappointment.
"He probably would, though," Hoechlin says after a minute, sounding thoughtful, and Colton's traitorous heart skips a beat at that.
He's about to say more, but the downstairs door opens and there's the distinctive tread on the stairs that means Dylan's arrived, and they don't say anything more until Hoechlin's made Dylan shriek and Colton's scared the guy into a near cardiac arrest by grabbing his feet from under the bed.
"You assholes," Dylan spits out, lying on the bed and clutching his heart like he's afraid it's going to thump out of his chest. "Why am I even friends with you?" Hoechlin's laughing hard enough that he can't actually form words, so Colton smirks his response. Dylan just flips them off. "I hate you guys so much," he says with feeling.
Colton flops down on the bed next to him, resting his head on Dylan's shoulder. He tries not to feel thrilled when Dylan tilts his head toward him, his cheek resting on the top of Colton's head, but he utterly fails. "You know we're your favorites," he tells Dylan.
"Yeah," Hoechlin chimes in from Dylan's other side. "We are."
"Fuck you guys," Dylan retorts. "Crystal and Posey are my favorites now. They would never do this shit to me."
Colton makes a rude noise. "Crystal is mean and Posey goes along with anything she'd suggest. You know that."
Dylan sighs and scrubs at his face. "You all suck."
Hoechlin sits up and pets Dylan's head, scruffing through the short hairs until some of the tension eases out of him. "You're just going to have to deal with it," he says, sympathy in his voice. "Or start scaring back. We could help."
Dylan looks over at Colton, back up to Hoechlin. "This is probably going to end badly, isn't it?"
Colton grins at the dismayed look on Dylan's face. "Declarations of war," he admits.
"Pranks gone wild," Hoechlin agrees, looking amused.
"Complete madness."
Sighing, Dylan turns and hides his face in Colton's shoulder, and Colton hopes to God that the guy can't hear the way his heart is trying to pound its way out of his chest. "Tell my mother I love her," he says, sounding forlorn, his voice muffled a bit by Colton's shirt. "Give my regards to Broadway."
"You will be remembered in songs," Hoechlin says, sounding solemn, and only Colton can see the crazy gleam in his eyes that means shit's about to go down. Hoechlin's way crazier than people give him credit for and Colton suspects the next few weeks are going to be total chaos. He only hopes that Jeff doesn't snap and fire their asses when this spills over onto the set.
He really shouldn't be as excited as he is, but he finally feels like he belongs to something, like he has a place here, so he might as well enjoy it while he can.
***
The thing with Dylan had come as a complete surprise, really. Colton had always thought that if he was going to fall for a guy, it'd be someone like Hoechlin; someone easygoing and grounded, someone who was a veteran of the business and knew the value of discretion. Colton would've been safe with Hoechlin. He wouldn't have had to worry if things went wrong because Hoechlin knows how to play the game, and it's part of why Colton likes him so much; he gets it.
Dylan's some random guy from New York who suddenly got pulled into the spotlight because he made funny videos, and he's still struggling to find his balance in this crazy new world of constant cameras, artless interviewers, and public attention. He has no walls built up, no safety net to fall back on, and if he fails, he loses everything. Colton has no idea how the kid isn't shitting himself with fear because just thinking about it is enough to make Colton's anxiety flare up again.
Colton's been in front of cameras since he was fifteen. He understands how to hide himself, the real him, from the cameras and the reporters and the fans; he knows how to give people what they want to see and how to deflect and joke around when the invasive questions comes up. He knows what he has to lose if he falls, learned it in high school back when he was young enough to not know how to fight back, and the fact that Dylan is completely open and honest with everyone, regardless of their agenda, is fucking terrifying. He needs a goddamn keeper before he gets hurt, and Colton doesn't think it can be him because he's barely making it through this mess intact, and he's done this before.
To make matters worse, Dylan has apparently taken it on himself to be Colton's one-man cheerleading squad and all-around blankie. He sneak-hugs Colton after some of the rougher scenes with Hoechlin, rubbing soothing circles against his back while Colton takes deep breaths and wonders if psychological wounds ever heal or if they just keep bleeding forever. He mocks Colton's freckles and his hair and his clothes with so much affection that Colton can't even bring himself to get upset about the slurs against his favorite shirts. He drags Colton out to the house when Colton gets into one of his moods and hates everyone in the world, makes him play Karaoke Revolution and feeds him awful drink combinations until Colton is laughing himself sick.
Even with the mother of all hangovers, Colton wakes up feeling better than the day before, and all the mocking comments about him crying over Adele (Crystal, who is mean, but in a way that Colton likes) and his terrible karaoke skills (everyone else, which is rich considering that Hoechlin is probably legally tone-deaf) just make him grin and feels like he's one of the gang.
In retrospect, it's not really surprising that he's fallen hard for Dylan. It feels inevitable that after all this time spent together, after all the care Dylan gives him without expecting anything in return, Colton would look at him flailing around as he shows Posey some ridiculous dance move he's just invented, and think, 'I want him.'
What's really surprising is the part where he finds out that Dylan wants him back.
***
Dylan's in his lap, his hips slotted against Colton's, and his teeth sharp as he bites Colton's lower lip. "Come on," he pants, tightening his fingers in Colton's hair and pulling until Colton hisses and shoves up into him. "Do it, c'mon, I want it."
It's late at night, they're in a limo on their way home from some awards after-party, and Dylan's dick is hard against Colton's thigh. His mouth tastes sweet, and Colton's about to come in his designer jeans from the way Dylan's licking into his mouth, nosing his cheek with something like affection. "I can't," he gasps, moaning when Dylan shamelessly rides his thigh. "Dylan, I can't-- not here-- fuck, I can't--"
"Do me," Dylan murmurs, sounding wrecked, high color in his cheeks as Colton grabs his ass and pushes him down into his lap. "Oh, fuck, Colton, c'mon, do me, do me right now--"
"We are in a fucking limo," Colton bites out, torn between frustration and need, wanting to lay Dylan down and just ruin him and knowing he won't be able to do it. "We're going to be at your house soon."
Dylan gives him a filthy, open-mouthed kiss that takes his breath away. "Make him drive around town some more."
"I can't--"
"Do it," Dylan demands, and Colton is beyond aroused by the lack of give in Dylan's voice. "Pay him whatever he wants, just do me already."
"You pushy little fuck," Colton breathes, holding Dylan steady for the five minutes it takes to negotiate the cost of the extra time and a little extra cash just in case something happens.
By the time he's done, the partition is up and the limo is moving again. Colton's got Dylan down on the seat, pressing his face against the bulge in his pants while Dylan twists and writhes underneath him. He smells like need and desire, like clean clothes and faint cologne, and Colton licks and sucks Dylan through his pants until Dylan is yanking on his hair and shoving him harder against his groin, riding his face until Colton has to pull away to be able to breathe again.
His hands shake as he undoes Dylan's pants, feeling his nerves sing at the steady stream of "pleasepleaseplease" coming out of Dylan's mouth, and Colton reaches in and palms Dylan's cock, feeling fiercely pleased when Dylan arches up hard and says his name in a shaky voice. He does it again, and again, until Dylan is trembling and speaking in broken words that all sound like Colton's name, and only then does Colton bend his head and suck Dylan in his mouth, taking him all the way down and swallowing.
Dylan falls apart with a satisfying yell, his back arching up in a tight bow as he shakes and cries and comes. Colton's throat is sore by the time Dylan lets him go, but he's too hard to care, too needy to pay attention to anything but the urge to jerk off all over Dylan again and again until he's raw. "C'mon," Dylan says in a quiet murmur, because he has no fucking sense of self-preservation and doesn't know enough to keep his mouth shut when Colton is this gone. "Come on my face, you know you want to--"
"Shut the fuck up." Shaking with need, Colton straddles his torso and unzips his jeans, untucking himself and watching Dylan's eyes darken as he sees Colton's dick for the first time. "Stop talking, for once in your life," he rasps, but Dylan's not that guy, never that cautious, or sane, to begin with.
"I can suck you if you want," he offers with a wicked little smile, and Colton loses it, props himself up against the side of the limo and strips his cock with rough, vicious pulls while Dylan murmurs filthy things to him, all the things he wants to do with Colton, all the fantasies he's had about Colton's mouth and where he could put it. "I've never had a tongue up my ass," he says in a soft voice. "You could do that to me too. I think I'd like it."
"Oh, God," Colton cries, feeling his orgasm pull at the base of his spine, feeling himself splinter at the constant barrage of Dylan's voice and his words and the thought that he could have everything. "Fuck, fuck, Dylan--"
"C'mon, baby, come on me." Dylan reaches up and clutches Colton's thighs, his fingers digging into the muscle, and Colton lets everything go and just breaks apart to the sound of Dylan's encouraging murmurs.
By the time he's coherent, he's fairly clean and his clothes have been put to rights again. Dylan had cleaned them up with wet wipes he'd found in his pocket. "And this is why ribs are awesome because they come up with their own clean-up kit," he tells Colton cheerfully as he wipes the jizz off his face and his shirt, which is now totally ruined. Colton can't bring himself to care about that because he's still trying to get over the fact that he came all over Dylan and he kind of wants to do it again.
"See," Dylan says when he's done and the garbage is put away in a discreet can on the side, "this was totally fun. We should do this again."
"We're not fucking in limos again," Colton says, wincing at how hoarse his voice sounds. "Ever."
Dylan makes a moue of disappointment. "Spoilsport." He leans in and curls into Colton, sighing happily when Colton wraps his arms around him and presses a kiss to his head. "Okay, I'm ready for bed. Take me home, Jeeves."
Colton laughs, feeling weirdly fragile but happy with the way Dylan is wrapped around him like a lovesick octopus. "Your home or mine?"
Dylan tilts his face up to Colton's, his lips pursed in thought, and Colton has to kiss him for that because he can't resist that mouth. "Which one has the bigger bed?"
Colton's grin widens. "Mine. Yours is half a bunk bed because you're secretly twelve."
"Fuck you, bunk beds are cool," Dylan scowls, but his face eases into a smile when Colton nips his mouth. "Seriously, though, your place?"
"My place," Colton agrees, and makes it happen while Dylan noses at his throat and presses light kisses against his jaw. Colton lets him because he wants everything Dylan has to give, even the sweetness that's too much for Colton's over-worked nerves right now. But he takes it because he wants it, because it's Dylan and Colton finally gets to have him the way he's wanted for a while.
Dylan nudges him. "Wanna go again before we reach your place?"
Colton swats the back of his head, tries not to smile when Dylan giggles. "Shut up," he says, unable to stop himself from sounding fond and soft and open, all the things he's not with anyone else.
***
At one point, they fuck in Colton's car with Dylan spread all over the backseat and Colton buried deep inside him. And the time after that, in Dylan's bed when the guys are out at some party, and Colton almost falls off the bed every five minutes and Dylan giggles his way through all of it, except for the part where he's moaning Colton's name as Colton rims him, spreads him apart, and fucks him through the mattress.
Someday, he thinks as Dylan sprawls over him, snoring softly into his shoulder, he's going to find the words to tell Dylan what this all means to him. Maybe he'll even tell him the stories of who he was and try to make the guy understand that he can't just go around giving himself to everyone who asks because he's going to have nothing of himself left, and Colton doesn't want him to ever lose that sweetness of his. He loves this stupid, smart, funny guy who never hides himself from anything and opens his heart to everyone, and he's going to beat the shit out of anyone who tries to hurt him. Or maybe get Hoechlin to beat them up, whatever. His point stands: Dylan's his and Colton's protective of him and he won't apologize for any of it.
Sometimes, Colton marvels at how weird and good his life is, a common thought he has after he's pounded Dylan through the mattress and they both collapse from exhaustion. He doesn't really have a plan for any of this -- you don't really plan for someone like Dylan, the guy just happens -- but he's managed to make it this far without ruining everything, so he figures he can just relax for once and enjoy it.
In the meantime, he's going to spend tomorrow helping Holland prank Posey like she's been threatening to for weeks. Maybe if he has time, he'll even blow Dylan in his car and see if he can't make him lose complete coherency for once.
It's as much of a plan as he's got for now, and he's good with it. He's learning to be good with it.
One more day and I'm back in Toronto with my family! And then in less than a month, we move to our new place. I am so excited!
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