you're all a part of me 3/3

[somerdaye]

previous part
One of the last things anybody wanted to see in the kitchen - besides the obvious, like aliens or a kitten massacre or an overcooked steak - was two figures snogging vigourously against the island counter.

"Oi!" Rupert bellowed. "I eat food there!"

Katie and Eoin did not break apart. Katie hoisted herself up onto the island and wrapped her legs around Eoin's waist in a very obvious fuck you Rupert, I'll do what I want.

There was a low wolf whistle, and Colin was faintly surprised that it came from Angel. (Though he really shouldn't have been, since Bradley'd been telling him for years that Angel was a hussying hussy that hussed and had a lower moral standing than Bradley himself.

"Not that you'd be able to understand that," Bradley'd said, "Saint Morgan."

"Fuck you," Colin had said, laughing at the way Bradley's face twisted in shock and delight.

He shoved Colin's shoulder. "Not so innocent as the girls think, then? I approve.")

Angel's whistle broke the dam, and suddenly everyone was making noise. Santiago burst out laughing, turning red in the face when Colin and Tom started catcalling and yelling "Get in there!" at random intervals. Rupert just kept shouting about his forever-tainted meals, but nobody paid him any mind.

There was a loud thump from the upper level of the house, then the sound of feet pounding down the stairs.

"What? What's happened?" Bradley gasped, skidding into the kitchen in his boxers and a white undershirt. He stopped dead when he caught sight of the very distracted couple. "What the -"

Katie made the mistake of opening her eyes. She groaned and pulled her mouth away from Eoin's with a disgustingly audible wet sound, swatting at his wandering hands. "Bradley killed the mood," she explained when he gave her his best hurt-puppy eyes.

Still snickering, Colin was wondering two things: one, why Bradley killed the mood when five seconds earlier she'd been surrounded by a very loud and obnoxious audience, and two, why Bradley killed the mood when he was scruffy and half-naked and basically sex on legs. If Angel would have let him drown himself in whiskey - which she didn't, the hussy, with the very thin excuse of a cinema not having whiskey in stock - Colin probably would have jumped Bradley. Which would have probably been a Very Bad Idea. Rupert would probably never shut up about it and Bradley would probably never talk to him again.

Bradley, however, couldn't tear his eyes away from Katie.

The hussy! How dare she do this to Colin? Despite knowing literally nothing about their relationship, Bradley was absolutely, positively, without-a-doubt certain that Colin was a model boyfriend the same way he was a model citizen, a model actor, a model son, and a model trickster. He was sweet and polite at the worst of times - Bradley was sure Colin made a great boyfriend. And this was how Katie repaid her loving Irish muffin? Preposterous! Colin had to be devastated -

He turned to find Colin, to offer up ice cream and a punch to Macken's gut.

"All right there, James?" Colin asked, lips curved into a smile. And it wasn't even his I'm pretending to be happy so I don't bum anyone out or his I'm secretly plotting thousands of ways to murder you in your sleep - it was his I'm so fucking happy right now my dimples are about to bust open smile.

"Am I all right?" Bradley spluttered. "Are you all right?"

Colin raised his eyebrows, his smile growing with the motion. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"No - no reason, I suppose..."

Bradley exchanged a confused look with Tom, who shrugged. His mind was whirring.

Perhaps Tom was right and it was only a fling, meaning that Colin didn't really care what Katie did and vice versa. Or perhaps they've been in an open relationship for years without bothering to inform Bradley of it. The thought that neither of them trusted him with the information, no matter what kind of relationship they had, stung.

"I'm going back to bed," he grumbled, stomping up the stairs like a petulant child.

He heard Angel say "Seriously, what crawled up his arse and died?" before he slammed his bedroom door shut, wishing it would make a louder noise.

All he'd wanted, really, was one last stretch. One last get-together before they all had to go their separate ways and forge new lives. Bradley was obviously the only one feeling the desperation for it to never ever end; the terror at the uncertainty lying ahead of him. He knew he sometimes cared a little too much about really stupid things, but those people downstairs were like his family. An incestuous, lying family who wanted to keep him in the dark about everything and ditch him at the first opportunity, but a family nonetheless.

He collapsed onto his bed face-first and pretended to be asleep when Eoin finally came in to get ready for the night. He screwed his eyes shut as tightly as he could, trying not to hear the laughter downstairs he couldn't help but think was at his expense.

"You should come out with us," Katie said brightly over breakfast. Then added, "Not you," to a silent and brooding Bradley. He flipped her off.

Colin grimaced. "I'm grounded, remember?"

"Yes, but," Eoin laughed, "Angel groun-" he paused, thinking very carefully about what he was going to say, then thought better of it. "You're probably right. Staying home would be the best bet. Well, we're going to have less fun without you."

"If you say so," Colin smiled. Ignoring Bradley's prescence, he tipped his cereal bowl into the sink and headed upstairs, muttering something about a shower.

Bradley watched him go. He snapped back to attention when Eoin cleared his throat.

"Look," Eoin started, looking a bit uncomfortable. "I know it's... it's a bit weird to not, you know, have him hanging off you anymore. You guys are mates."

"Best mates," Katie chimed in, and Bradley paused with his spoonful of oatmeal halfway to his mouth. Was this some kind of intervention? His ex-co-stars had practiced and perfected the art of interventions, ever since he went that month without washing his lucky footy socks.

"Yes, but he's not speaking to me," he said waspishly. Katie and Eoin exchanged a glance that was loaded with I-knew-he'd-react-like-this, which unsurprisingly didn't make him feel any better.

"We know," Katie said, in a slow voice. "But we just wanted to say that from now on he'll probably be spending a lot more time with us."

Eoin nodded solemnly. "Sorry, mate, but he's not happy with you right now, and he is with us."

"You'll just have to put up with his grouchiness for a little while." Katie made a face. "Not too sure how long he's going to keep acting like this, but there's nothing any of us can do to break him out of it. It's his business."

"Sorry for stealing him from you," Eoin tried and failed to say without snorting.

As they walked away hand-in-hand, Bradley's brain attempted to dig out some sort of meaning from what they'd said.

And then the penny dropped.

Who'd have thought that Colin, of all people, would be involved in something as... as new-age as a three-way relationship? Bradley'd heard about them before, of course, but it was strange to actually know people involved in one. He wasn't sure if it made him uncomfortable because of the prospect of a three-way relationship, or if it was just that he didn't really want to imagine any one of the three having sex with each other.

All day, Bradley watched Colin, a bit obsessively, re-evaluating his behaviour all holiday in light of this new information.

If Colin noticed, he didn't say anything.

Around dinner time, they ordered pizza, which was hard because it wasn't like either of them knew too much Italian. Bradley ended up yelling 'Pizzaria! Ciao! Ai carumba!' into the phone until Colin, overcome with a fit of giggles, took the phone away and made chips instead.

It was comfortable, you could say. Not for them, because their version of comfortable involved a lot more water balloons and John Farnham, but for the underlying tension that had been coursing through their every interaction since they got to Italy, it was... nice. When they were done their quiet dinner, Colin got up to wash the dishes. Without even thinking, Bradley grabbed a dry-towel, and they worked in companionable silence.

When they were done, Colin actually smiled at him. They got themselves comfortable on the couch and turned on the telly.

"Put on channel 234," Colin said, voice hoarse. He bit off a yawn.

Bradley's heart leapt - Colin was speaking to him again, like a regular person. It was really more than he could have hoped for so soon.

"Why's that?" he asked, already punching the numbers in on the remote.

"You'll see."

What Bradley ended up seeing was himself and Santiago screaming at each other in Italian while attempting to clobber the other.

Bradley threw his head back and laughed.

The sound of the front door banging open jerked them out of their television-induced reverie. They turned to the door with matching curious expressions.

"Hello, boys," Katie said, giggling inanely and leaning into Eoin in a very obvious way.

"If you know what's good for you, Bradley," Eoin said, already heading for the staircase, "you'll sleep right there tonight. Capiche?"

"Capiche!" Bradley said loudly. "Capiched loud and clear!" He looked at Colin expectantly. Colin smiled and waved sleepily at his friends, murmuring a "Have fun, and keep it down".

"No promises!" Katie called, taking the stairs two at a time.

A moment after he heard the bedroom door close upstairs, Colin dove for the remote and turned the volume on the telly as far up as he could. Bradley gave him a questioning look that he misinterpreted.

"What?" he said. "They'll be loud just to spite us and you know it."

"No, I know," said Bradley. "Of course they will, but why're you still down here?"

Colin stared at him blankly, stifling a yawn. "Where else would I go?"

"I don't know," Bradley said, lying back and pillowing his head on the arm of the couch. He worked his feet under Colin's thigh; as if he were about to literally kick him off the couch. Colin smiled at the contact, small as it was. Perhaps Bradley was done being angry with him. "With Katie and Eoin?"

"Why on earth," Colin said, slowly, "would I want to be anywhere near Katie and/or Eoin at a time like this?"

Bradley gave him a very confused look that almost definitely matched his own.

"Isn't that…" Bradley started, then cleared his throat awkwardly. "Er, what the three of you've been doing since we got here?"

Finally understanding, Colin burst out laughing. He cut himself off with what Bradley's mum used to call a hippopotamus yawn before saying, "Bradley, you are a very special kind of stupid."

"What?" Bradley asked, immediately on the defensive.

Colin gave him his famous crinkly-eyed grin, and it hit Bradley like a hunger pang how long it'd been since he'd seen the silly, heart-warming expression - even longer since he last caused it.

"You goof," Colin said, jostling Bradley's knee. "Do you seriously think I'm shagging Eoin and Katie?" His eyes were soft; Bradley found himself smiling sheepishly.

"Er, maybe?"

When Colin tried to laugh and it turned into three subsequential yawns, Bradley rolled his eyes and stretched up to tug Colin on top of him. He settled back with Colin, who squawked when their chests pressed together and he sprawled between Bradley's legs.

"Go to sleep," Bradley ordered, guiding Colin's head to his shoulder.

Colin'd nearly hyperventilated when Bradley had grabbed him, and he'd had every intention of wriggling away from the subject of so many of his fantasies. But when Bradley wrapped his arms around him, stroking Colin's back soothingly, he really couldn't be bothered to move.

So he made himself comfortable, pointedly not thinking about Bradley's warm thighs, bracketing his own, and let the relaxed rise and fall of Bradley's chest coax him into sleep.

For his part, Bradley couldn't drift off as easily. Instead, he thought.

Thought about Colin's hands resting open-palmed on his chest; about the tickle of breath along his neck; the weight of Colin's hips on his.

And he thought that, if he could ever convince Colin to live with him, he wouldn't mind falling asleep like this every night.

When they woke up, everyone was gone. There was a Post-It note stuck to Colin's back which said TALK! in Angel's loopy handwriting. Another was stuck to his foot, and it said TOOK PICTURE. BLACKMAIL. HURRAH!

"Do we have to talk?" Colin asked, sitting up. Bradley rubbed his eyes.

"We probably should," he said apologetically.

Colin sighed and nodded. "We really should." There was a long pause, in which both of them realised how much they really didn't want to start this conversation - not that they were entirely sure how to.

Clearing his throat, Bradley said, "We... could make whatever we have to talk about more interesting?"

Interest piqued, Colin raised an eyebrow, his lips showing the shadow of a smile. "How so?"

Bradley grinned.

"Two words, my dear Morgan. Pillow. Fort."

Once the last pillow was manhandled into place, Colin sat back and grinned at their work. Truly, it was magnificent. Angel alone had six pillows and three blankets on her bed, claiming that she had night chills while Colin shrewdly suspected she missed her Queen Guinevere four-poster. They were boxed in, if the shape of the fort could even be called a box - Colin was never very good at geometry, but he thought it was something like a decahedron or another Latin-sounding word - but he couldn't find it in him to be nervous. He was just… relieved.

"I missed this," he said. Bradley glanced over from his post against the couch with an oddly vacant expression. Colin continued, "I'm really sorry, you know. For avoiding you. I won't anymore, I was just -"

"Do you want," interrupted Bradley, who obviously hadn't been listening, "to get a place together once we get back to London? I… don't want to say goodbye to you yet."

Colin's first instinct was to freeze up in terror.

His second was to immediately say, "Yes, yeah, sure, yeah, as long as I'm not obligated to eat your cooking."

Bradley looked torn between offense and a desire to laugh. "I'm a fabulous chef, I'll have you know. I'll even make your vegetarian tofu crap. I don't trust it, but I'll cook it."

"That's nice and all, but no thanks. I hate hospital."

It took Bradley a few seconds to catch on to the veiled insult, and when he did he made a noise between amusement and fury. He measured Colin up before unexpectedly diving, aiming to get the taller man in a headlock. They play-wrestled like kids, slapping at each other's heads and using their elbows as weapons of mass destruction.

Colin kept waiting for it. The moment when he'd remember, oh, shit, he's rolling around underneath a (really rather spectacular) blanket fort with the subject of years-worth of erotic dreams and uncomfortable situations - but that wasn't it, not at all.

This wasn't some guy he'd worked with for four weeks in a stage production and found attractive. It wasn't somebody disposable, who he could walk away from the second something started to go wrong. He didn't feel uncomfortable, or awkward, or nervous, or antsy, or anything else he'd begun to fear was his permanent state of mind, because the man pinning him to the ground and demanding Colin's surrender wasn't anyone to be uncomfortable or awkward or nervous or antsy about.

It was just Bradley, after all.

"You win, you win, just get your fat arse off me!" Colin said, breathless from laughing. And maybe a bit from Bradley's heavy weight lying on him. Maybe.

Bradley laughed and flopped onto the ground beside Colin. They were both rather amazed that the fort was still standing, but it hadn't deteriorated in the slightest, which was impressive.

"I like this," Bradley said out of the blue.

Colin grinned up at the blanket ceiling. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Bradley sighed and threw an arm over Colin's torso in a strange mock-hug, shifting until his nose was pressed against Colin's collarbone. And suddenly Colin was very aware of the decahedron blanket prison.

"I like this, too," Bradley said, voice muffled by Colin's skin.

Colin snorted so he didn't run away shrieking or something equally as manly. "What, snuggling?"

"Yeah."

It was said so simply that Colin relaxed in spite of himself. His left arm was mostly trapped under Bradley's shoulder, but he angled it so he could run his fingers through the blond hair. Bradley gripped him tighter.

"Why have you been avoiding me?"

Without thinking, Colin said, "Just in case you're smarter than you let on."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Inwardly, Colin resigned himself to a quick and sudden end to their future living arrangement and possibly friendship if he was so unlucky. Outwardly, he just said, "Well, if you're planning on sharing a flat with me you might as well know that I'm kind of gay."

"What, really?" Bradley asked, sounding surprised. Then, after a moment that felt like hours, "I really did not know that. Is it like the lactose intolerant thing? Am I the last to know because I'm dense as a brick wall?"

"No," Colin said, smiling.

They laid there for a long time. Colin was busy marveling at how soft Bradley's hair was, and Bradley was busy thinking furiously.

A lot of things made sense to him then: Colin's self-imposed estrangement, his awkward behaviour around the others when they walked around shirtless, his stammering half-explanations for his odd attitude. Bradley finally understood, and that knowledge made him brave. Or stupid.

"Do you fancy someone in specific?"

Colin tensed. He dropped his hand from Bradley's head.

"You."

He tried to wriggle out of Bradley's grip, to make the situation at least a shred less awkward than it already was, but Bradley held fast.

"Is that why you've been off lately?"

"Yeah, I just - I didn't know how you were going to react and - I didn't want to lose you."

Bradley huffed and nosed at Colin's neck. "Idiot."

"Takes one to know one." Colin resumed his ministrations on Bradley's hair, wondering what the fuck was going on in the other man's head. He was certain his face was red as a lobster and thanked the gods that Bradley wasn't looking. His heartbeat, though, was much harder to hide.

Bradley made a small, contented sound. "If you're still up for the flat idea, I'm thinking we should probably look for something, you know, one-bedroomed," he said in a rush, "because I kind of think I fancy you, too."

"You're straight," Colin said firmly.

Bradley laughed. "And you're Colin." He lifted his head very slightly, the bridge of his nose fitting against Colin's jaw quite nicely. "And I don't really think I qualify as 'straight' when I just want to snog you senseless right about now."

If this was a joke. If this was a fucking joke.

"Do it, then."

After grumbling a bit about being comfortable, Bradley raised himself up on his elbows and smiled down at Colin. "You're really very pushy," he commented airily.

Colin said something about Bradley having to get used to it, and he thought he heard Bradley reply that he'd like to, but that couldn't be right. Bradley was straight, this was just some kind of fucked up game of gay chicken or something. He stared Bradley down, glare heating up the closer he got.

Then, Bradley actually kissed him, and Colin's brain went oh.

And he really wishes he could wax poetic about fireworks and perfection and other such nauseating shit, but in reality there's noses bumping and teeth clashing unpleasantly because Bradley so obviously isn't used to this.

"You're really bad at this," Colin said. Bradley made a quiet noise of outrage, and before he could start listing his references - Angel at the top of the list, since she was closest, even though also very likely to lie and say Bradley was the worst snog she'd ever had - Colin half-sat up and took Bradley's face in his hands. "Come here."

He kissed Bradley soundly, possessively, and when he pulled back with a smug grin Bradley's eyes were glazed over.

"I am but your student," he said, lacing his arms around Colin's waist.

They basically forgot where they were. All that really mattered was exploring each other's mouths and necks and, in Bradley's case, ears. "Shut up, I like them," he'd said defensively when Colin laughed at his fascination. Colin held back with any kind of groping, just waiting for Bradley to get up and run screaming away. Probably a good thing he did, considering before long - before they were done, in any case, but then, they could've gone on kissing for hours - the door slammed open and they heard Santiago very mildly question the existence of the fort in the living room.

Katie opened one of the flaps, and Bradley tried unsuccessfully to extricate himself from Colin's arms, mortified. Colin and Katie just shared a grin.

"They're snogging," she announced, and there was a loud cheer accompanied by quite a few Finally!s. (And Rupert's "Wait, what?", but they were used to ignoring him.)

Bradley groaned, hiding his face in Colin's neck. "Was I the only one who didn't catch on?"

"Short answer," said Katie, her eyes twinkling, "yes."

Without discussing - or, for that matter, really thinking about - it, the lot of them gathered in the scrubbed-down kitchen with blankets and a package of marshmallows Rupert had produced, swearing to every deity he remembered the name of that the pack hadn't been in his suitcase yesterday. Silently, they filed out onto the deck. The sun hung like a pendulum over the horizon, turning the clouds pink and the water into fire.

"There," said Santiago, pointing at a fissure in the cliffs some two miles away. Katie grumbled a bit at the distance, but set off with the rest of them.

The trek was long and, if your name was Bradley James, lethal.

"Is that strong enough to -"

"No."

As Colin pulled his - whatever - boyfriend? - away from yet another fragile-looking ledge, he couldn't help but laugh. Without fully understanding why, the others joined him a bit hysterically.

As the light dimmed and Bradley got even less cautious, Santiago help up a hand to stop the group.

"Check that out," he said. "Last sunset in Italy."

Everyone oohed and ahhed as they were expected, except for Colin. He, instead, watched his co-stars - ex-co-stars, whatever - all together for what had the possibility of being the final time.

Tom and Eoin were cracking soft jokes to lighten the atmosphere, as Rupert smiled into Angel's hair and she, in turn, pulled Katie closer by the waist, sharing her blanket. Bradley grinned at Santiago, and some kind of message passed between them without a single word. When Bradley turned back to Colin, his eyes were shining with happiness. In the half-light, Colin took a chance and kissed him. Bradley's hand immediately came up to cup the back of Colin's neck, but he pulled away just as quickly.

"Katie's going to push us into the sea if we don't start moving," he explained, bringing his hand down to tug at Colin's wrist.

"I might have been considering it," drawled Katie from behind them.

"Is that a game we're playing now?" Tom asked, rather loudly to be heard over the waves. "Pushing the idiots off a cliff?"

"I'm in."

"Me too!"

"Please, boys, I've been waiting for this opportunity since I met Bradley. Move aside, Katherine."

"Move faster, Santiago!" yelled Bradley.

Stumbling over their feet, they reached the cave breathless with laughter. Sometime during the sprint Colin's hand had become entwined with Bradley's. He tried to pull it away but ceased at the first warning signs of Puppy Eyes.

"Here we... go," Santiago said, flicking on the torch he'd brought along to illuminate the small clearing a few feet from the entrance. He told them about the bonfires he'd had here as a kid, and the time his cousin was being cruel, as kids do, and he'd come to hide out here for the night.

They let the words wash over them, soothing in a way only Santiago seemed to manage. Rupert spotted the abandoned firepit first, and collapsed against one side of the narrow cliff walls.

"I'm not built for this," he complained. "My idea of exercise is from the telly to the fridge and back."

"Amen!" Katie said, flopping beside him. Everyone else sat down a bit more gracefully - except for Colin, who was dragged down by his and Bradley's linked hands.

"Fucker," he laughed, straightening up. Ignoring Bradley's protests at the swear, Colin caught Katie's eye from across the pit and winked. Her smile was bright enough to light the whole cavern up, but that might have been Santiago kindling the firepit.

"So what's the plan," asked Tom, "now that we're not property of the Beeb orBradley's whims?"

"Speak for yourself."

"Shut up, Morgan."

"I got an offer the other day," said Angel with a grin. "I wasn't going to mention it unless I manage to get the part, but - you're looking at the next Lady Macbeth. That's if they like me, I mean."

"They'll love you," Eoin assured her. "Who wouldn't? Don't," he added, pointing at Bradley.

"I'd like to play football," said Tom.

"I'd like to get married," said Katie.

"Agreed," Bradley nodded at both of them. Colin choked on his own spit; Eoin exclaimed, 'Not to me?'. They both received aw-you're-cute-for-someone-so-stupid looks.

"I don't want to marry you, Eoin," Bradley frowned.

"Fuck me - Bradey, go take a class in the communication skills you dearly lack. I was talking to Katie."

"I don't see why not," she shrugged, incredibly casual for someone who'd just dropped such a bombshell. Colin wondered if he could take nonchalance lessons from her, or if he'd have to pay for those.

Rupert threw something small at Eoin, who caught it and looked at his hands in confusion. "Rupe, mate, where the hell did you get a RingPop from? This wasn't just sat around here, was it? Do we need to have another chat about picking up candy from strange locations?"

"It was in my pocket," said Rupert. "But I don't really recall putting it there."

"His possessions are slowly but surely turning into candy," said Santiago, holding up the package of marshmallows as proof. Solemnly, he continued, "This was once his favourite pair of briefs."

After a stunned moment of silence, everyone cracked up. Eoin unwrapped the mysterious RingPop and slid it onto Katie's finger, then kissed it. Such a simple gesture, Colin thought, that might change both of their lives completely. Or it might not, and they might fall into married life with the same ease they fell into their current relationship.

"Don't say shit like that," he muttered in Bradley's ear.

"Fun to watch you squirm," Bradley retorted under his breath. Before Colin could retaliate or just hit the bastard, Angel yelled for Santiago to pass 'Rupe's ballmallows' and the air was just so cheerful that he didn't even bother. Instead, he smacked his lips on Bradley's shoulder and grabbed a ballmallow, raising it as if in a toast.

"To Italy," he said in a carrying voice. "And to raw ballmallows because we're dim and forgot sticks!"

His friends cheered, clanging the ballmallows together and stuffing them in each others mouths.

The volume quietened to a comfortable level as the chatter died down into something a bit more intimate. Angel was telling Santiago all about her potential role, even though everyone knew he'd read Macbeth cover to cover at least once a year. Katie and Eoin had their beautiful heads snuggled close together, murmuring god knew what into each others' ears. Tom was busy trying - fruitlessly - to get Rupert interested in rugby.

"Too soon to tell you I love you?" Colin asked in a low voice.

"Bit." Bradley leaned back into the cave wall and smiled sheepishly. "Give me a while, yeah?"

"Course," said Colin, ears burning. He wanted to tear his hand - which was starting to lose feeling, anyway - away from Bradley's in sheer embarrassment, but Bradley knew his tricks and refused to let go.

"Where are you heading?" Bradley wondered, playing with Colin's hand. "After tomorrow, I mean, when we go... you know, home."

"To have a hot shower without worrying that Santiago will burst in and roundhouse kick me in the face," Colin said. Then he grinned. "You're welcome to join me, of course."

Bradley raised his eyebrows. "Priorities, Col. We need to get a flat first, that way we have a shower to -"

"Oi!" yelled Rupert, who had evidently just tuned in. The people who hadn't stared at him like he'd gone nuts. He pointed between Colin and Bradley, scowling. "No."

"Don't be ridiculous, Rupe," Eoin said. "Don't deprive them of their big gay love, what would they be left with then?"

"Really bad senses of humour?" guessed Angel.

"That," agreed Eoin, "and an illicit affair on our dear Rupey's couch."

"I sit there!"

"Well done," said Bradley, snickering. "Four for you, Glen Coco."

"He also watches the telly," Tom added. "As long as it's not rugby, apparently," he added with a glare.

"He naps occasionally, too."

They sat in the flickering firelight, taking the mickey out of Rupert and laughing amongst themselves. In that moment, it felt like they could never end. But there really was nothing for it - their little holiday was almost over. In the morning they'd have to wake up and pack the rest of their things. There'd be a mad rush in the afternoon as Santiago went around inspecting rooms, making quite sure that each and every one was as clean or cleaner than before they'd arrived.

And, really, it was going to royally suck. Colin knew that. Yet he couldn't help ignoring the prospect of departure, not when Rupert was sticking his fingers in his ears and singing like a child, or when Angel had the opportunity of a lifetime hanging over her, or when Bradley's shoulder was warm and solid against his own.

One more night. Just one more.

They'd let Santiago book the train tickets this time, which turned out to be a marvelous idea as nobody had to wake up at five in the morning. Bradley still claimed it was better for everyone to leave as early as possible, but he'd been outvoted. (Also, Colin had threatened to kick Bradley out of his bed if he tried getting up before dawn broke.)

In huddled little groups, they waited for the Eurostar. Everyone looked back at the village at random intervals, but Angel practically couldn't tear her eyes away. Sensing her sadness, Tom put his arm around her shoulders and squeezed. She smiled up at him and snuggled a bit into his half-embrace, protecting herself both from the evening chill and from her own regret. As he did so, the horizon showed the first hint of metal rushing towards them. Bradley, who'd been talking to Rupert, bounded over to where Colin was standing, at the edge of the station platform, and slung Colin's tote over his shoulder.

"You're being really oddly nice to me," said Colin. He eyed Bradley suspiciously. "Am I about to get slimed?"

"No." Bradley seemed offended that Colin even had to ask, but it could easily have been a front. Colin refused to lower his defenses, and Bradley grimaced, turning to watch the silver train snaking closer and closer to their little group.

"I figured I was supposed to be nice," Bradley muttered. "Now that we're - whatever - together."

A smile spread across Colin's face without invitation. He jostled Bradley with his elbow.

"Well, I certainly don't fancy you for your kindness. You can stop anytime."

"That's a relief," said Bradley. He grinned and shoved Colin's duffel bag back at him. "Carry your own rubbish."

"I was planning on it! Then you had to go and get all whatever that was on me."

"Chivalrous!"

"No, see, chivalry is for women, Bradley. I quite clearly am not one."

"Chivalry can be for any gender," Bradley huffed. Then he paused uncertainly, brow furrowing. "I think."

He looked so afraid that he'd offended Colin somehow that Colin couldn't help laughing. "Don't worry, mate, I'm just winding you up before we go back to London and return to our regular lives." Biting his lip to keep the admissions of I hope it's not entirely like it used to be, Colin glanced back to watch the sky turn orange as the sun became obscured by the cliffs on the edge of town. It was a sad thing, like closing a book after a particularily good chapter, not knowing the ending, yet somehow certain nothing could ever top it.

Once Bradley made quite sure no one was watching - no one that would tease them, at least - he laced his fingers through Colin's and squeezed. A witness to the gesture might have thought the Irishman hadn't noticed, but there was the tiniest hint of a dimple on the left side of Colin's mouth. Bradley pressed his lips against it fondly.

"Gonna miss this place," murmured Colin.

"You'll like our place more, promise."

Colin laughed and turned, bumping his nose against Bradley's temple playfully. "You can't possibly know that. What if there's angry French people in the flat next to ours? They'll be yelling insults I'll unfortunately understand every time we shag."

Bradly snickered. "I promise there will be no angry Frenchmen."

"You can't, though," said Colin, confused. Bradley'd dropped the joking tone.

With a sheepish expression, Bradley shrugged.

"It was supposed to be a surprise, but I kind of already... bought a place?"

"You - what?" Startled, Colin aimed a kick at Bradley's shin, which the blond dodged expertly. "Might've mentioned that, yeah?"

"I can't mention something that's a surprise, Colin."

"You just did, didn't you?"

"Oh, stuff it."

"No, see, cause you should have told me," said Colin. He smiled slightly. "And now you're all irritated, and that's a bit funny."

"Colin."

Colin took his hand from within Bradley's to gesture at his own, suddenly serious, face. "Do I look bovvered?"

"Oh, god, you're not really goi-"

"Look at my face. Look at my face. Does this look like a bovvered face to you?"

"Morgan, if you do not shut your -"

"Bovvered, bovvered, no," sang Colin, twirling his hand wildly around his general facial area.

Before he could continue irritating his ex-co-star, Bradley grabbed him in an abrupt movement and crashed their lips together, lowering Colin in an odd sort of dip as he did so. From a few feet away, Colin could hear the catcalls of his friends, the whispers of strangers, and Rupert's cries of "My virgin eyes!"

And he did not give a single damn.

He just kissed the moron back like his life depended on it, clinging to his shoulders like a sex-crazed spider monkey. In the end, they nearly missed the train. It took Angel and Tom forcibly removing their limbs from each other to actually break them apart. Even so, Bradley's fingers curled around Colin's sleeve as they dragged their luggage towards the Eurostar. Once on the train, he sat down across from Eoin and Katie, who were bickering for the sake of bickering, and looked pointedly at the seat next to him.

Without hesitation, Colin took it.

alla fine