The games you play, NC17, Bradley/Colin
The games you play
Author: wedabble
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Bradley/Colin
Warnings: Angst, Smex, Cum!play.
Summary: To everyone on set, Colin and Bradley are just goofy and lovable best friends. But no one really knows the games they play.
A/N: As always comments are love. If you read it, let me know what you thought even if it sucked.
Written for kajmere because she has the ability to inspire me.
Lyrics taken from "Lover I don't have to love" by Bright Eyes.
I picked you out of a crowd and talked to you. Said I liked your shoes; You said 'thanks can I follow you?' So it's up the stairs and out of view, no prying eyes. I poured some wine; I asked your name you asked the time...
The games you play could destroy anyone. The constant push/pull of affection. The thoughts of doubt about you, him…together. But when you see him in those jeans and he’s leaning and your insides are on fire. Your fingers itching to touch him. His long lashes fluttering over color you have never seen before.
You frequent a club far away from the city. Where no one really knows you. Where no one really cares. He pretends he doesn’t know you. It’s the only way the two of you can do this and not feel…wrong. But it still feels wrong and that’s what makes it so right.
He smiles at you across the bar. He should know he can’t do that. He should know just looking at him makes your cock harder than any blonde in a short skirt or raunchy sex you’ve seen on the telly. He should know he’s all you think about. He’s all you fantasize about. But he thinks this is just another game you play.
He doesn’t know the truth.
You don’t want to love him. But you do.
He lips cover the side of the glass and your dick twitches in your jeans.
He murmurs sounds of approval at the wine you’ve chosen and you lean closer to him on the stained leather couch of the VIP section of the club upstairs. He raises an eye brow at you. You whisper the question of his name in his ear. He presses his palm to your chest.
He’s destroying you.
Now it's two o'clock, the club is closed; we're up the block. Your hands on me; I'm pressing hard against your jeans. Your tongue in my mouth; Trying to keep the words from coming out. You didn't care to know who else may have been you before...
You press him against the cold brick wall in the alley behind the club. He’s moaning as his tongue explores your mouth. You’re rubbing your palm against his denim covered cock and he’s clutching your jacket in his fingers.
No one sees you.
No one cares.
You pull on his long hair in the back and he whimpers. His bottom lip is swollen from you biting it. You swear you even taste blood.
You’re desperate to be inside him.
You bet you could fuck him right here and neither he nor anyone else on this block at 2am would give a shit. It’s that kind of place.
And it makes you both feel dirty.
But fuck its hot.
He’s hot. He undoes your belt and you know he’s thinking the same thing you are.
Your thick cock in his tight ass. His chest against the brick wall as you curve your hips up just the right way to slide inside him.
It’s all so wrong.
But it’s what you love about him.
You don’t want to. But you do.
Then my mind went dark; We both forgot where your car was parked...
The game is over. It’s time to go back to his flat, fuck him into the mattress and let the next day bring what it may. Let it bring work again. The awkwardness. The secrets. The stolen kisses in trailers. The looks across set. The feeling in the pit of your stomach when he’s not near you.
But you know the game is never over. Tonight’s game may be but the constant game the two of you play with one another…that will never be over.
Bad actors with bad habits, some sad singers they just play tragic. And the phone's ringing and the van's leaving; Let's just keep touching, let's just keep… keep singing...
You are both stumbling and singing, arms around each other, as you continue to try and remember where his car is parked. Your cell phone keeps blaring in your pocket and you have tried your best to ignore it now for hours but it just won’t be quiet. Finally Colin grabs it from your back pocket yelling his greeting into it.
He stops in the middle of the wet sidewalk as rain begins to fall around your feet. He looks at you and you know now is when the game ends.
He shoves your cell hard into your chest.
“Brittany says she’s waiting for you.”
It takes you a few minutes of drunken running to catch up to him.
Excuses and explanations fall out of your mouth. He believes none of them.
You grab him, pull him toward you. He growls and fights against you. His arms flail in a haze of too much wine and he smacks you a few times in the face.
You whisper apologies.
The game is over.
You don’t want to but you love him.
I need some meaning I can memorize; The kind I have always seems to slip my mind. But you You write such pretty words, but life's no story book. Love's an excuse to get hurt and to hurt. 'Do you like to hurt?' 'I do! I do!' 'Then hurt me.'...
He looks at you with such emotion you literally feel your heart break.
You should tell him now.
But you won’t. You don’t dare.
It’s all a game. A game you play.
You push him roughly into the nearest alley.
He doesn’t stop you.
He knows this all too well.
His flat is too far away and you are far too much in need of him to hesitate any more.
He presses his cheek against the wall as you slide his loose jeans down over his ass. You run your index finger along his crack and he sucks in his breath and pushes back against you.
There’s no time for foreplay. You need him so badly you know the second you’re inside him you’re going to fill him up. You’ve been hard all night; his scent and smile invading every inch of your personal space.
You spread his ass and the tip of your leaking cock provides a good lubricant as it slides into his eager hole. You bend your knees and push up and in and he cries out. You huff and breath heavily in his ear as you will your orgasm for ‘please just a little longer’ cause you don’t want it to be over just yet.
He needs to know. He needs to know he’s the only one.
This is the only way. Words fail you when your body won't.
You leave wet marks on his neck; the part of his body you love more than anything. He cranes it; his vein pumping blood down to his cock. You wrap your fingers around it; jerking it with the same rhythm you’re fucking him with. You don’t want it to end. But it must. Just like all the games people play.
You pull out and he groans in displeasure. You force him down onto his knees by his shoulder and by the look in your eyes he knows what you want.
He stretches his neck; pushing his head all the way onto his left shoulder. It’s dark in the alley but you see how perfect and white his skin is.
When you cum hot white ribbons splash onto his neck and ear. He cums too as it slides down his skin and onto his clothing. You outstretch your arm against the brick wall and rest your forehead on your forearm. Your cock hangs there, spent and empty in the chilled night air. He leans his back against the wall, his head down, breathing hard.
The sound of the rain echoes through the alley.
Even at his most shameful he’s still so beautiful.
And you love him even though you don’t want to.
I want a lover I don't have to love. I want a boy who's so drunk he doesn't talk. I got a hunger and I can't seem to get full...
On set, you’re just Bradley and Colin. Goofy. Lovable. Best friends. The female extra’s fawn over you and Colin does his best to hide his insecurity. It just makes you flirt harder.
No one knows the people you are to each other. No one knows how you love him. No one knows the ends of earth you would go for him.
No one knows how you lay awake at night unable to sleep because you want him so badly to do the same for you.
No one knows the games you play.
Author: wedabble
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Bradley/Colin
Warnings: Angst, Smex, Cum!play.
Summary: To everyone on set, Colin and Bradley are just goofy and lovable best friends. But no one really knows the games they play.
A/N: As always comments are love. If you read it, let me know what you thought even if it sucked.
Written for kajmere because she has the ability to inspire me.
Lyrics taken from "Lover I don't have to love" by Bright Eyes.
I picked you out of a crowd and talked to you. Said I liked your shoes; You said 'thanks can I follow you?' So it's up the stairs and out of view, no prying eyes. I poured some wine; I asked your name you asked the time...
The games you play could destroy anyone. The constant push/pull of affection. The thoughts of doubt about you, him…together. But when you see him in those jeans and he’s leaning and your insides are on fire. Your fingers itching to touch him. His long lashes fluttering over color you have never seen before.
You frequent a club far away from the city. Where no one really knows you. Where no one really cares. He pretends he doesn’t know you. It’s the only way the two of you can do this and not feel…wrong. But it still feels wrong and that’s what makes it so right.
He smiles at you across the bar. He should know he can’t do that. He should know just looking at him makes your cock harder than any blonde in a short skirt or raunchy sex you’ve seen on the telly. He should know he’s all you think about. He’s all you fantasize about. But he thinks this is just another game you play.
He doesn’t know the truth.
You don’t want to love him. But you do.
He lips cover the side of the glass and your dick twitches in your jeans.
He murmurs sounds of approval at the wine you’ve chosen and you lean closer to him on the stained leather couch of the VIP section of the club upstairs. He raises an eye brow at you. You whisper the question of his name in his ear. He presses his palm to your chest.
He’s destroying you.
Now it's two o'clock, the club is closed; we're up the block. Your hands on me; I'm pressing hard against your jeans. Your tongue in my mouth; Trying to keep the words from coming out. You didn't care to know who else may have been you before...
You press him against the cold brick wall in the alley behind the club. He’s moaning as his tongue explores your mouth. You’re rubbing your palm against his denim covered cock and he’s clutching your jacket in his fingers.
No one sees you.
No one cares.
You pull on his long hair in the back and he whimpers. His bottom lip is swollen from you biting it. You swear you even taste blood.
You’re desperate to be inside him.
You bet you could fuck him right here and neither he nor anyone else on this block at 2am would give a shit. It’s that kind of place.
And it makes you both feel dirty.
But fuck its hot.
He’s hot. He undoes your belt and you know he’s thinking the same thing you are.
Your thick cock in his tight ass. His chest against the brick wall as you curve your hips up just the right way to slide inside him.
It’s all so wrong.
But it’s what you love about him.
You don’t want to. But you do.
Then my mind went dark; We both forgot where your car was parked...
The game is over. It’s time to go back to his flat, fuck him into the mattress and let the next day bring what it may. Let it bring work again. The awkwardness. The secrets. The stolen kisses in trailers. The looks across set. The feeling in the pit of your stomach when he’s not near you.
But you know the game is never over. Tonight’s game may be but the constant game the two of you play with one another…that will never be over.
Bad actors with bad habits, some sad singers they just play tragic. And the phone's ringing and the van's leaving; Let's just keep touching, let's just keep… keep singing...
You are both stumbling and singing, arms around each other, as you continue to try and remember where his car is parked. Your cell phone keeps blaring in your pocket and you have tried your best to ignore it now for hours but it just won’t be quiet. Finally Colin grabs it from your back pocket yelling his greeting into it.
He stops in the middle of the wet sidewalk as rain begins to fall around your feet. He looks at you and you know now is when the game ends.
He shoves your cell hard into your chest.
“Brittany says she’s waiting for you.”
It takes you a few minutes of drunken running to catch up to him.
Excuses and explanations fall out of your mouth. He believes none of them.
You grab him, pull him toward you. He growls and fights against you. His arms flail in a haze of too much wine and he smacks you a few times in the face.
You whisper apologies.
The game is over.
You don’t want to but you love him.
I need some meaning I can memorize; The kind I have always seems to slip my mind. But you You write such pretty words, but life's no story book. Love's an excuse to get hurt and to hurt. 'Do you like to hurt?' 'I do! I do!' 'Then hurt me.'...
He looks at you with such emotion you literally feel your heart break.
You should tell him now.
But you won’t. You don’t dare.
It’s all a game. A game you play.
You push him roughly into the nearest alley.
He doesn’t stop you.
He knows this all too well.
His flat is too far away and you are far too much in need of him to hesitate any more.
He presses his cheek against the wall as you slide his loose jeans down over his ass. You run your index finger along his crack and he sucks in his breath and pushes back against you.
There’s no time for foreplay. You need him so badly you know the second you’re inside him you’re going to fill him up. You’ve been hard all night; his scent and smile invading every inch of your personal space.
You spread his ass and the tip of your leaking cock provides a good lubricant as it slides into his eager hole. You bend your knees and push up and in and he cries out. You huff and breath heavily in his ear as you will your orgasm for ‘please just a little longer’ cause you don’t want it to be over just yet.
He needs to know. He needs to know he’s the only one.
This is the only way. Words fail you when your body won't.
You leave wet marks on his neck; the part of his body you love more than anything. He cranes it; his vein pumping blood down to his cock. You wrap your fingers around it; jerking it with the same rhythm you’re fucking him with. You don’t want it to end. But it must. Just like all the games people play.
You pull out and he groans in displeasure. You force him down onto his knees by his shoulder and by the look in your eyes he knows what you want.
He stretches his neck; pushing his head all the way onto his left shoulder. It’s dark in the alley but you see how perfect and white his skin is.
When you cum hot white ribbons splash onto his neck and ear. He cums too as it slides down his skin and onto his clothing. You outstretch your arm against the brick wall and rest your forehead on your forearm. Your cock hangs there, spent and empty in the chilled night air. He leans his back against the wall, his head down, breathing hard.
The sound of the rain echoes through the alley.
Even at his most shameful he’s still so beautiful.
And you love him even though you don’t want to.
I want a lover I don't have to love. I want a boy who's so drunk he doesn't talk. I got a hunger and I can't seem to get full...
On set, you’re just Bradley and Colin. Goofy. Lovable. Best friends. The female extra’s fawn over you and Colin does his best to hide his insecurity. It just makes you flirt harder.
No one knows the people you are to each other. No one knows how you love him. No one knows the ends of earth you would go for him.
No one knows how you lay awake at night unable to sleep because you want him so badly to do the same for you.
No one knows the games you play.