Love Made Visible - Part 2/2
- - -
Richard is, of course, beyond delighted when Colin tells him, hugging him and clapping his back and beaming like Colin's won some sort of prize. He even insists on taking them out to dinner, which leaves Bradley elated and petrified by turns.
"I don't get what you're so nervous about," Colin says, watching Bradley sort through his billionth shirt. "It's just Richard."
"There is no such thing as just Richard," Bradley says, and then decides that apparently a red button down sends the wrong impression and starts taking it off. Colin's not exactly discouraging this freak-out because it means he gets to lie on their bed and watch Bradley be half-naked a lot. "He's a legend, Colin. He's, like, gay professionally."
"Oh, yeah," Colin nods. "He was telling me about his extensive training courses. The practicals sounded intense, though. I hear they're really hands-on at the Homo Academy. Leave no arse untouched."
"Col-in," Bradley groans, but whatever else he's about to say is cut off by someone coming loudly in the front door.
"Hello, boys!" Katie's voice calls out. "I know you're home. Angel and I are coming in."
"We're in Bradley's bedroom," Colin calls back. It's really both of their rooms and Colin's room just a place to store whatever doesn't fit anywhere else at this point, but Katie and Angel don't know that.
"Ooh, you're getting fancy," Katie says, poking her head in the door as Bradley stuffs himself into a blue sweater and frowns at his reflection. "What's the big occasion?"
"Dinner with Richard," Colin says, making room for Angel on the bed. "Bradley's been at this for at least an hour."
"I liked that sweater on you," Angel says. "Brings out your eyes."
"This isn't a date, Angel," Bradley grumbles. "I don't think he'll be looking into my eyes."
"Well I guess that answers our question of if you wanted to have a pub night," Katie says. "Still up for it, Colin?"
"Oh, no, I'm going with Bradley." Katie's eyebrows arch even more perfectly. "Richard invited both of us out."
"What, as a boy's night?" Katie sniffs. "I see how it is. We're engaging in rampant sexism between us now."
"It's not sexism," Bradley says from his closet. "Hey, Angel, what do I own that says 'I'm earnest and trustworthy and a promising young gentleman'?"
"Richard's met you before, Bradley," Angel sighs. "He already knows you're none of those things."
"That's what I said," Colin says. "But no, my opinion isn't good enough."
"What about that black shirt you wore when we were on the lottery?" Angel suggests. "That's nice."
"I'm wearing this navy shirt," Colin shakes his head. "No matching each other."
"Well how about a white shirt?" Katie flops down at the foot of the bed. "Can't go wrong with a white button-down."
"You can if we're going to a nice restaurant and Bradley's probably ordering a steak," Colin says. "Tried that one already."
"Just put the sweater back on," Angel coaxes. "You look lovely in it. Wear a nice undershirt instead of one of your raggedy t-shirts."
"Fine," Bradley says, pulling it on. He does look nice, Colin thinks. Very, very nice. You can see how broad his shoulders are in that sweater, and it does make his eyes look amazing. He really wishes Angel and Katie weren't around right now, or that they didn't have to leave in fifteen minutes, because that sweater is giving him a lot of ideas and making him want to do a lot of inappropriate things. "Oh God," Bradley looks in the mirror. "Now I have sweater hair."
"What's the big deal about this dinner anyways?" Katie asks, watching Bradley attack his head with a comb. "And why weren't we invited?"
Bradley and Colin both freeze and stare at each other in the mirror.
"It's..." Colin's tongue feels thick and stupid, but he knows he has to speak because Bradley can't lie at the drop of a hat to save his life, and he's not going to come out without Colin's say-so. "Bradley and I are together in a, you know, relationship. So Richard's, um, taking us out to celebrate."
There's dead silence for a few moments before Angel and Katie break into laughter.
"It's not funny," Bradley says, affronted.
"You must think we're idiots," Katie gasps, wiping at her eyes. "There's no way you two are together."
"We are!" Bradley's insistence is ruined, a little, by the fact that he's combing his hair furiously.
"No, no," Angel says, taking a few deep breaths. "I mean, we've hardly been able to do any work around all the sexual..." she chokes back a giggle, "...tension."
Colin just gapes at Bradley, who's looking back at him, equally dumbfounded. Colin had imagined a lot of doomsday scenarios in reaction to their coming out, but incredulous laughter had honestly never occurred to him. He supposes this is why his mother always cautioned him against pulling too many pranks on people.
"We are!" Bradley says indignantly. "Look, I'll show you." He marches over to Colin and says, "I can kiss you, right?"
"Uh," Colin looks at Katie and Angel, who are watching them with mild interest, like the two of them are a vaguely entertaining and wholly unbelievable movie they came across on the telly, the kind you watch on Sundays when you're bored and have nothing else to do. "Go ahead. Just no tongue."
"Ruin all my fun, why don't you," Bradley grumbles, but leans down and kisses Colin gently, chastely enough that Colin doesn't feel like he's putting on a pornographic display and die of embarrassment. He does slip Colin a little tongue at the end, because he's Bradley, swiping over the divot he's so fond of in Colin's bottom lip because he knows it makes Colin squeak. Bradley's a bit of a bastard.
"There," Bradley says, pulling away. "Are you happy?"
Katie and Angel exchange looks before Katie gives them two thumbs down. "Weak." She says. "You've got to have passion to sell it."
"You looked very nice together, though," Angel says helpfully. "It was a very sweet visual. There just was no... heat. You seemed uncomfortable."
"Well, yeah, kissing in front of people tends to make me uncomfortable," Colin says. "Surprise."
"No, it's because there was no tongue. Colin, let me kiss you with tongue," Bradley leans back down, but Colin squirms away.
"Not in front of them," he yelps, covering his face.
"Way to ruin our point, Colin," Bradley sighs, but he goes back to his hair.
"Anyways," Katie sniffs disdainfully, getting off the bed, "if you two are just going to be jerks, we're going down to the pub. Enjoy your sexist dinner bonding."
"It's not sexist!" Colin calls after her and Angel. "We really are dating!" His only answer is the door slamming closed.
"This is why you should let me properly snog you in front of people," Bradley says righteously, combing his hair flat. "Realism."
"Shut up or I'll tell you your arse looks fat in those jeans," Colin says, and then regrets it when Bradley turns around to stare at his butt, horrified. "It doesn't really!"
"Are you sure?" Bradley asks, frowning.
"Yes,"Colin sighs, covering his face with a pillow. "I'm sure."
- - -
Bradley is tense throughout dinner, no matter how much wine he has or how many jokes Colin or Richard make. Colin gets the distinct impression that Bradley's on his meet-the-parents behavior, which is patently ridiculous on so many levels. As far as Colin's concerned, once someone beats you at table tennis over twenty times, you can't be awkward around them anymore.
"I'm sorry," he whispers to Richard while Bradley runs nervously to the bathroom for the umpteenth time. "He's gone all star-struck again, he's afraid you'll judge him because you're..."
"Gay?" Richard asks behind his menu.
"Well, he called it professionally gay," Colin mutters. "But yes. He's worried you won't approve of this."
"I approve plenty," Richard smiles. "In fact, I'd always thought you two were wonderful together, I just always assumed it was as friends. If it's more, well, that's also lovely."
Colin just smiles, because Bradley's sitting himself back down and it's time to order, but he shoots Richard a significant look, which Richard acknowledges with a wink and a nod. For the rest of the meal, Richard keeps things light, telling wild stories about the men he picked up while acting in the West End. But even though Bradley's laughing hysterically, he still feels tense next to Colin and his eyes dart nervously to Colin's in between stories. Finally, Colin simply can't hold it in, any longer, he really has to use the bathroom, despite Bradley's desperate, imploring eyes.
"Don't leave me alone," Bradley hisses. "I don't know what to say."
"You're doing fine," Colin says, wiggling unhappily. "Talk about anything, I don't care, he doesn't care, but I really have to go."
"Fine," Bradley lets go of his wrist and Colin runs to the loo like a bat out of hell. He's as quick as he can possibly be, but when he's heading back to the private room they're in, he hears Richard and Bradley's low voices talking earnestly to each other.
"...expected him to want to keep this private," Richard is saying. "But not from you."
"Well, it's whatever Colin wants, right?" Bradley says stiffly. Colin can see him start to tap his spoon in a nervous rhythm.
"This isn't a test, Bradley," Richard says severely. "I was asking you."
"I..." The spoon thumps softly a few more times. "Colin, he's, he's got this thing, where you see him and you just want to take care of him, you know? You just want to make him happy."
Richard snorts. "I suspect you more than most people."
"I guess," Bradley admits. He sounds more relaxed, now. "But I've always, even when we were just friends. I look at him and it's not about me. And part of me wants to tell everyone how happy I am, but mostly, mostly I just - I look at him, you know, and all I want to do is make sure no one bothers him. So yeah, it means sneaking about when I don't want to or not holding his hand or whatever, but I don't miss it. I don't even think about it, really."
There's silence for a moment before Richard goes, gently, "Have you told Colin this?"
"Sort of," Bradley hedges. "I leave out the protecting part, though. He'd hate that."
"He would," Richard agrees. "And calm down, Bradley, for heaven's sake. I still like you, you know."
"I. Um." Bradley's mouth opens and closes uselessly. "I mean..." This, Colin decides, is his time to interrupt.
"Back," he says cheerfully, sitting back down, and under the table Bradley latches his hand onto Colin's immediately. His palms are a sweaty mess. "Did I miss anything?"
"Nothing at all," Richard replies with equal cheer. "How do you boys feel about dessert?"
- - -
Reporters are always around to interview someone, and Colin barely even notices it anymore. He's stopped trying to keep track of when he or anyone else is being interviewed, he just politely answers questions and tries to keep out of the way of groups of people with equipment he doesn't know. He doesn't even stop and try to make Bradley laugh on-camera when he sees him being interviewed after lunch, just waves and keeps eating his apple as he walks past and Bradley recites his same answers about castles and how great the show is.
"So are you seeing someone?" The interviewer asks. She sounds young and from what Colin saw of the side of her head, she was relatively pretty. She's probably subtly hitting on Bradley, like it will make him take her behind a trailer for a shag. It wouldn't be the first time someone tried it.
"You know, I've found it's pretty hard to date someone when you're on my schedule." Bradley laughs, short and self-deprecating. "Filming eight or more hours a day, not really conducive to a lot of romance." Colin freezes, because that is not Bradley's usual answer.
"Oh," the interviewer gives a fluttering little laugh, "I'm sure you'd make time for someone special."
"Well of course." Colin can hear the chainmail when Bradley shrugs. "If you're in love with someone, you'll make it work, you know?"
The interviewer laughs again and segues into Bradley's love arc with Angel this season, and Colin goes into is trailer, happily munching on the rest of his apple.
- - -
Colin is not pouting because he's not going to see Bradley for twelve days. He's pouting, perhaps, because it's arse-o'clock in the morning, or because it's raining, or a million other reasons.
But mostly, it's that Bradley's going back to France with Angel twelve days early to film some stunts and love scenes while Katie finishes a few scenes and has a short vacation, and Colin has to do a million different pick-ups so they can get the first few episodes down pat. In theory, Colin knows that twelve days isn't a terribly long time. Even if Bradley were there, they'd probably be too busy to do much of anything, or see each other, or even have a whole lot of sex. But it's the principle of it that grates at Colin, the fact that ever since they've been properly together (how he counts it, not how Bradley counts it), they've never spent so long apart. And if it's going to be anything like that month he was in Armagh trying to act like he was cool just being Bradley's shag on the side, it's going to be absolutely awful.
"Cheer up," Bradley says softly. They're huddled together at the completely deserted train station while Angel uses the loo. Colin doesn't know why Bradley has to take the five AM train and try to get in some stunt training in France all in the same day, but Johnny and Julian always yell things like "Time is money!" when confronted with scheduling absurdities like this one. "Twelve days will be over before you know it. I'll call all the time."
"I'm being pathetic, I know," Colin sighs, straightening Bradley's coat collar against the nip still in the spring morning air.
"Sweet," Bradley corrects. "Adorable. Lovely. Perhaps a little needy."
"Shut up," Colin mutters half-heartedly, tilting his head and catching Bradley's lips in an easy, hello-good-morning sort of kiss, the kind he usually gets with his breakfast cereal and he'll miss dreadfully. It doesn't feel like proper morning anymore without Bradley's hand on the side of his face or Bradley's voice, still sleep-rough and rumbling, making nonsensical noises that sound like endearments. It's part of his routine along with coffee and a shower, and he doesn't know how he's supposed to maintain his professionalism when deprived of this utterly necessary thing.
Bradley opens his mouth to say something close and private, but he's cut off by an unnaturally loud shriek from Angel followed by an "oh my God you two!" They jump apart guiltily.
"Um," Colin manages intelligently, turning bright red under Angel's calculating gaze and the hands clapped over her mouth. "Surprise? We told you we weren't joking?"
"But you, but, but I can't believe, but you two," Angel splutters, looking back and forth. "I mean you two really..."
"This train will be boarding in five minutes," a bored-sounding woman's voice comes over the loudspeaker. "Five minutes before boarding."
"Well!" Bradley says brightly, "I'm going to make one last run to the loo, then."
"You are not!" Colin yelps, grabbing Bradley's arm. "You are not leaving me alone with her!"
"I'm going to have to be alone with her the entire ride. In a private car," Bradley hisses, glaring. "And the toilets will not smell very good, Colin. Have some mercy."
"Fine," Colin sighs, letting Bradley run to the men's room like someone lit him on fire. Angel, for her part, has the good grace to wait until Bradley's out of earshot before turning a too-interested expression on Colin.
"So," she says with great relish. "How long has this been going on?"
"Three months," Colin mutters, kicking at a bit of litter he can't identify and doesn't quite want to. "But if you ask Bradley, he'll say six, because he counts before we were serious."
"Six months," Angel mutters to herself, counting backwards "That means October, which is..."
"Right before I left for Mull," Colin fills in.
"Oh my god," Angel shrieks, clapping her hands to her face, a gesture Colin has already become heartily sick of. "The dream."
"The what?"
"Bradley had this, this dream in September," Angel babbles, her hands fluttering like nervous birds. "About kissing you or something, and he was completely an idiot about it. He came to me for advice and was asking if it was okay if he just sort of... shagged you on the side like you were just this, this thing he was using, and I told him he was a prick. Oh, I can't believe him..."
"I was the one who suggested not being serious," Colin says fairly, because if he doesn't interject Bradley will spend the entire train ride being assaulted. "I'd been mad about him for ages and I thought, I don't know, I didn't want to force him into anything. The casual was just as much for me."
"I just don't know what to do with the two of you," Angel sighs, sounding disgustingly like Colin's mother. "You're just the biggest pair of completely ridiculous - no. I don't even have a word for what you two are. And the Christmas party! You were together then? Bloody hell, Colin, I can't believe you!" She punches his arm, hard. And he doesn't really have much cushioning on his arm protecting him.
"Ow!" He says, rubbing it. "I didn't do anything!"
"You were flirting with Olivia! No wonder Bradley left early! He said he was knackered but he was pining! He was pining for you, you idiot." She punches him again.
"You threw her at me!" Colin says righteously. "You were all, look who's lonely, Colin, look who needs cheering up, Colin. I wasn't about to be mean. And as far as I knew at that point Bradley was using me for sex."
"And you were letting him!" Angel keeps punching his arm. "How did the pair of you get so stupid and survive this long? How are you dating each other? How does that work if you're both so monumentally stupid?"
"Angel, stop beating my boyfriend," Bradley, glorious Bradley, says from behind her.
"Yeah," Colin says, "Only Bradley beats me regularly, but it's just to show me how much he cares."
"You're lucky I don't beat both of you, not telling us for so long," Angel grumbles, barely audible over the voice telling them to board the train. "C'mon, Bradley, if you miss the train, it won't just be me after your blood."
"In a minute," Bradley waves her away, and Angel boards with angrily squinted eyes.
"Sorry," Colin says when they're alone again. "Bad timing for her to believe us."
"I'll survive," Bradley sighs, leaning in for one final kiss, a proper kind of goodbye kiss at a train station, the kind that's deep and wet and completely inappropriate in public and that makes Colin feel like he's been shocked all the way down to his toes. "Love you," Bradley whispers when he pulls away.
"You too. Be good."
"Aw, c'mon, Colin," Bradley breaks into a mischievous grin. "If I do that then how will anyone recognize me?"
"They'll find a way," Colin assures him, and stands there in the cold spring air, watching the train as Bradley boards it and it pulls out of the station, until it's just a dot on the horizon.
- - -
Colin spends most of the next couple of days yelling at John Hurt's voice in a green room. It's lonely. The crew is lovely, but he's used to acting with someone else. Going from scenes with people to scenes where he and Merlin are alone, yelling and frightened and at the last port in a storm, is hard enough without having to go home to an empty flat that reeks of Bradley and have him not be there.
"You're insanely depressing to be around," Katie berates him.
"You don't even have to still be here, you know," Colin's waiting while they lay down some new tracks, and he's fidgety, and he's tired, and he has no idea what Katie's doing still hanging around. "Didn't they finish the Morgana doing something magical and scary scenes two hours ago?"
"Yes, but if I left, I couldn't bother at you," Katie says, settling down in the director's chair next to Colin. "Besides, I find your cave-yelling technique really inspiring."
"I'm not in the mood, Katie," Colin says shortly, checking for a text message he knows won't be there because Bradley should be filming a fight all afternoon.
"Why Colin Morgan, I do believe you're pining." Colin makes a face at her. Pining sounds very... Mills and Boon.
"Not pining," he corrects. "I'm just missing certain things I've... grown accustomed to."
"Oh god," Katie looks revolted. "I didn't need to know that much about your sex lives."
"That's not what I meant!" Colin can feel his ears turning bright red. "Um, mostly not what I meant. I meant... other things."
"Are you telling me you miss Bradley's sweaty socks?" Katie asks. "You can't tell me, honestly, that you're pining for those things. I won't believe you."
"I'm not pining for Bradley's socks," Colin recites dutifully, even though he is, a little.
"Liar," Katie snorts. They're silent for a few moments before Katie sighs. "It's just - Bradley?" She asks. "Really? He never seemed like he'd be any good in bed." Colin is exceedingly glad that there's nothing in or near his mouth for him to comically spit-take or choke on.
"What?" He finally manages.
"He just seems..." Katie makes a face. "Pushy. Knows how good-looking he is. Lazy. Boyish."
"He's not." Colin feels compelled to come to Bradley's defense, even though it's semi-mortifying to do so. He'll make Bradley make it up to him later. "He's... he's warm."
Katie doubtfully peers at Colin behind her glasses, like she thinks the separation has caused Colin to lose whatever sanity he may have had. Colin doesn't blame her, because he rather feels like it's true. "Warm?" She finally asks.
"Yeah, he's, you know." Gentle, Colin wants to say. Affectionate. He's the most considerate person Colin's ever been with, maybe because he actually cares about Colin more than anyone else has. He's physically warm, too, like a furnace. Colin's always chilly except for when Bradley's next to him or touching him. Wherever Bradley drags his hands across Colin, it's like a flash from a hot water bottle, comforting and grounding. And the way he looks when they're together, hot skin and golden sunshine-y hair that wickedly happy, glowing smile and... Colin shouldn't keep thinking about this if he's got to be ready to act in ten seconds. "He's just very warm." He tells Katie. "And that's all you're getting."
"I'm getting warm," Katie says disdainfully. "You keep this from me for months - "
"It's not my fault you didn't believe us!" Colin interjects righteously.
"- and I get warm."
"Yeah," Colin nods. "Yeah, that's what I think you get."
"Colin!" Geoff calls. "We need you back on set."
"Oh, look at that," Colin says with an utter lack of remorse. "I've got to go."
"You're a pathetic human being, Colin Morgan!" Katie calls after him, and Colin, very professionally, flips her the bird.
- - -
Colin has one afternoon off during his sojurn of solitude. He's started referring to the twelve-day stretch as that, because it sounds like something epic and manly Merlin might embark on, rather than what it really is, which is an exercise in discovering the extent of his drippy co-dependence. In theory, he's very grateful for the afternoon to nap and do laundry and catch up on e-mail, but in practice he's curled up on Bradley's side of the bed re-reading Love in the Time of Cholera and identifying with Florentino far more than he feels strictly comfortable with. He's half-dozing, lulled by the familiar smell of Bradley's pillow, half re-reading the same paragraph over and over when his phone rings on the side table and wakes him up. ANGEL, his phone informs him, which is weird, because she and Bradley are scheduled to be filming right now, and the only way they wouldn't be filming is if something went horribly wrong, and the only reason Angel would be calling an not Bradley is... oh God.
"What's happened to Bradley," he says the second the call starts. "Do I need to catch a plane over there? Is he okay?"
"What?" Angel asks. "No. I mean, yes, he's fine, Colin."
"Thank God," Colin exhales. His heart is still trying valiantly to beat out of his chest. "You scared the fuck out of me."
"No, it's a different kind of problem with the," Angel lowers her voice in a way that's nearly comic, "the kissing scene."
"What? How am I in any way involved in that? He kisses me just fine."
"I know," Angel says dryly. "I saw, remember?"
"Yes, hah hah, you're wonderfully funny, Angel," Colin says. Hearing about Angel getting to kiss Bradley is, surprisingly, not on his list of top things to spend his afternoon off doing.
"Oh, Colin, it's going terribly," Angel says. "Either he leans up because he forgets I'm not you, or he kisses not in character because he's thinking about you, or I'm thinking about you and feeling guilty, and I ruin the scene by over-thinking. Jeremy's going mental, I swear."
"What am I supposed to do about that?"
"Talk to him," Angel begs. "Please, he's sulking in his trailer and wouldn't do it when I suggested it, but he needs to, it's awful. I think we're going to be fired."
"Fine," Colin sighs, but when he calls Bradley, it's a totally different story.
"Look, I did that leaning up thing on the first take," Bradley grumbles. He sounds muffled, like he's eating.
"She says you're not kissing in character."
"I'm just fucking trying anything at this point," Bradley says. "I'll kiss her using my teeth if I thought that would work. She's completely gone around the bend, asking before every take if I'm sure I'm okay."
"But you are?" Colin asks quietly.
"No," Bradley viciously crunches something. Crisps, Colin thinks. "The second she's fine I screw up. I've spent all this time trying not to think about you when I'm kissing her, and then she's gone and ruined it by worrying, and then I am thinking about you and it's awkward."
"I'm sorry," Colin says gently, even though he isn't even the tiniest bit, and Bradley's fucking up because of him makes him feel a little warm in the pit of his stomach. He's very probably a terrible person.
"I don't want to be kissing her." Bradley sounds like he's on the verge of a temper tantrum. "I want to be kissing you. And it shows on-screen."
"Well then maybe you should, you know." Colin cannot believe he's spending his afternoon advising his boyfriend on how to kiss someone else for his job. Somewhere, someone's laughing at him. "Look, Arthur wants to be kissing Gwen, right, so maybe you should think like you're kissing me, only I'm shorter, yeah? Stop thinking so much about being an actor and think about," he makes a hand gesture before remembering Bradley can't see him. "Think about what you and Arthur have in common."
"Huh." Bradley munches for a few moments. "You think that'll work?"
"Can it be worse than what you're already trying?" Colin points out.
"Hit me where it hurts, Morgan. Hit me w-" Someone says something on Bradley's end. "Look," Bradley says quietly. "I've got to go, okay?"
"Yeah," Colin says. "I-" miss you. Love you. Am pathetically hugging your pillow. "You know."
"I know," Bradley says, and it sounds like he does. Colin hangs up and puts the phone on the other end of the bed with his book, before he closes his eyes and lets himself drift to sleep on Bradley's scent. When he wakes up, he has a new text from Bradley.
worked on 1st take. ur a genius. i could kiss you. ;)
- - -
It's a good thing Bradley isn't at the train station when Colin arrives in France, because Colin would probably have decided, to hell with it, and just jumped Bradley then and there. It's sort of been a vague thought humming in the back of his brain in tune with the sound of the tracks as he dozed lightly, Bradley Bradley, going to see Bradley, Bradley Bradley Bradley...
His room is depressingly empty when he gets to the hotel, dark and quiet, and he's just about to call Bradley and see when he'll be done with filming when the door jiggles open and Bradley bursts through.
"Colin," he breathes, staring at Colin like he's a ghost.
"Were you expecting to break into someone else's room, then?" Colin asks, feeling himself start to smile big and stupid. "Because I could leave and come back in disguise if that would make it easier."
Bradley lets out a short, strangled bark of laughter. "No, it's just, Christ, Colin."
"You could come over here," Colin suggests, rocking back and forth on his feet. "Say hello, perhaps."
As soon as the words are out of his mouth Bradley's launches himself at Colin, wrapping his arms around Colin's waist and holding on like if he let go Colin would simply cease to be. "God, I missed you," he says, his face mashed into the junction of Colin's neck and shoulder.
"I'm here," Colin says quietly into Bradley's ear. "I'm right here." He buries his face in Bradley's hair, inhaling his scent, brushing his lips against Bradley's forehead, which Bradley takes as a hint and finally kisses Colin. He tastes like makeup and the weak tea they serve on set. Colin hates that tea, and Bradley's mouth right now is still the best thing he's ever tasted. For all Bradley's trying to be gentle he's clumsy and hungry, mouthing the pout of Colin's lower lip like he has to re-commit it to memory. He's pliant, easy to back up onto the perfectly made bed and tumble over.
"I missed you," Bradley repeats, pulling away for breath and framing Colin's face with his broad, warm hands. His eyes are so blue, Colin thinks hazily. Whenever Bradley's happy his eyes are warm and soft and very, very blue. "I was a completely awful, moping mess."
"Really," Colin kicks his shoes off, which Bradley must have done before he came over, because his bare feet have been teasingly sneaking under the cuff of Colin's trousers for a while now. "And I heard you were a professional."
"I may have exaggerated," Bradley mutters, pinking slightly. "I may have ruined a few takes thinking about your ears."
"My ears."
"I like them." One of Bradley's fingers comes up and traces along the shell. It makes Colin involuntarily shudder. "Yeah. That's what I missed."
"I missed..." Colin trails off. He doesn't even know what he missed. The way Bradley sings bad pop songs in the shower? His sweaty clothes in a ball in the corner of the bedroom? The way his hair curls around his neck? How he kisses Colin right after he's eaten meat just to piss Colin off? "I missed everything," he says finally. "I just missed you."
"Me too. I mean, I missed you, not me. I obviously didn't miss myself."
"You could stop talking now," Colin suggests helpfully.
"I could," Bradley says. "That would be a good idea. You could help me."
"Mmm," Colin hums and leans down for a kiss, lazy this time. He wants, yes, but it's a low, even burn, simmering in the pit of his stomach, and he's been wanting for so long to just touch, to lay down next to Bradley and remember the way he feels when his breathing is heavy and every part of him is straining to touch more.
"Colin," Bradley groans, "C'mon, Colin." He wedges one of his legs in between Colin's and thrusts up and, well, that's a convincing argument. "Been waiting so long."
"Mhm." Colin neatly tugs Bradley out of his shirt so he can watch his heavy breathing close-up, because it's glorious and a little silly and very, very real, but it's ruined by Bradley struggling out of his trousers and shucking off his boxers, which are already a little damp. "Jesus," Colin breathes. "Don't tell me you didn't beat off for twelve days or something."
"Four," Bradley corrects, helping Colin with his clothes that are suddenly far too warm and constricting. "Four days. I have a very busy filming schedule. Besides," his hands skid down Colin's spine, which is breaking out in cold sweat. "There are some things I can't do on my own, and you're very cruelly not giving them to me."
Colin laughs quietly into Bradley's mouth. "I'm cruel, now?"
"Yeah," Bradley says, leaning down to nip at the Colin's neck where he knows the costume will cover it, and Colin lets out an undignified squeak. "You know how long I've been waiting on you, Colin Morgan? For-fucking-ever."
"You've been waiting on me forever?" Colin dips his head to kiss down the center of Bradley's chest, to whisper against it. "Sounds uncomfortable."
"Yeah, well," Bradley's voice is tight somewhere above his head. "I'd wait on you a lot longer, if I had to." Colin splutters somewhere vaguely north of Bradley's belly button and looks up. "What?" Bradley's hand comes to rest heavy against Colin's head. "I would."
Colin lets out an indistinct groan and surges back upwards to kiss Bradley viciously, tangling tongues and rutting against him like a teenager. Gone is the vague idea of savoring their reunion, he wants it hot and fast and not his hand and now. "I was trying to make this nice," he pants out while he presses sloppy kisses all over Bradley's face. "You bastard." That makes Bradley laugh, loud and delighted.
"You're so easy," he says. He's hot and strong and Colin's been desperate for that, desperate for Bradley's smell and laugh and arms but he was trying to not go off like a teenager the second Bradley touched him, either, because he may be horny but he's also exhausted and wants nothing more than to pass the hell out the second he comes. But at least when he's desperate and grabby, it makes Bradley positively gleeful. He keeps whispering things against Colin's ear like "you just want to hear how much I missed you, huh?" and, "turns you on that I love you, such a fucking girl, Colin" until Colin can't stand it and sucks Bradley's tongue in his mouth so he'll shut the hell up and just start moving. And then when he does, when their bodies lock together like this all Colin can think is yes, because obviously, this is why he's felt so empty. Obviously his real purpose in life is not, to act or play Merlin on the telly, but to be rubbing off against Bradley James until Bradley makes a little surprised noise and grabs his arse like this is a complete revelation, that he enjoys humping against Colin after not seeing him for two weeks, and that it will make both of them come their brains out.
Then again, Colin thinks with hazy fondness, Bradley always was a bit dim.
"Hey, Colin," Bradley says, punctuating Colin's afterglow by shaking his shoulder. "Cols, come on, get a tissue at least before you fall asleep on me."
"Too tired to move," Colin mumbles into Bradley's neck. It's a nice neck, all scratchy and sweaty. It tastes good.
"Oh, Jesus Christ." Bradley says, hefting Colin onto the other side of the bed and getting up. Colin watches him drowsily, admiring how Bradley looks naked. He very rarely takes time to watch Bradley naked because he's too busy doing things to him, and he should make a point of watching more. Bradley's bum is rather phenomenal. The front view isn't so bad either.
"Budge up," Bradley says cajoling, returning with a wet washcloth to clean Colin up. He made sure to run it under warm water and is wiping down Colin gently, almost like he's a baby. "...completely useless after sex," Bradley snorts, pulling the blankets out from under Colin, who grunts unhappily but burrows under them when Bradley tucks him in. "I was defending Camelot all day, Colin, I should be the one who gets waited on. What's your excuse?"
"I was using magic to save your sorry arse," Colin mumbles, lifting his arm so Bradley can sprawl under it. It's the closest to cuddling he's come with any other person. "And it's your fault, anyways."
"That Camelot was in danger?"
"That I'm already so useless." Colin brushes the ends of Bradley's hair idly. "I was trying to make it last, but no. You wouldn't have it."
"Yeah, well." Bradley smiles at Colin, the wide, crinkly smile that's pretty enough to make Colin take his hand away from the back of Bradley's neck to touch the corners of his eyes. "Sometimes you've got to go all in and tell your plans to go fuck themselves."
"That... was oddly profound." Colin says. "To our current situation. Except our plans have fucked themselves on their - what's so funny?"
"Most people fuck someone stupid," Bradley says fondly. "Only you'd fuck someone into being profound."
"Oh, shut up." Colin grumbles, turning over. "I don't know why I missed you at all." He hears Bradley snicker, shift, and then the lamp light goes out.
"But you did," Bradley's disembodied voice comes from behind him, and then an arm is flung across his middle, almost like they're spooning, except there's too much distance between them. "You did miss me."
"Yeah," Colin smiles into his pillow. "Whatever."
- - -
The seize the day and fuck the plans approach works pretty well for Colin at first. Everyone on set is genuinely happy that they're together, cooing over them and offering congratulations. Marge from catering makes them their favorite biscuits for snack breaks and brings them out with a wink and pats on the cheek.
"Okay," Colin tells Bradley, "you're only allowed to break up with me if it's for Marge. I won't even complain, I'll just give you my blessing if it means she's cooking for me."
"What is everyone's obsession with me hooking up with Marge?" Bradley grumbles. "For the last time, she looks like my grandmother."
"Have you tasted these gingersnaps?" Colin waves one in front of Bradley. "Here. Taste it."
Bradley takes a bite and makes a vaguely pornographic noise. "Oh god," he moans.
"She's recently widowed," Colin waggles his eyebrows. "I think you should take a swing at that while she's still emotionally needy."
"It's a wonder I put up with you," Bradley mutters but he leans in and presses a kiss against Colin's forehead. "Eat up. Don't want you wasting away again."
"I'm not - " Colin begins, but he's cut off by everyone in the catering tent going "aww" and clapping.
"What?" Bradley yells to everyone while Colin sinks into his seat and tries to look inconspicuous. "It was just his forehead."
And that's around when things start going downhill, because apparently a few displays of affection are code for "no, please take an active, nosy interest in our private relationship." Costume gives them an extensive, slightly profane list of all the things they're not supposed to do in their costumes. Colin blames this on Bradley, who is in a constant state of warfare, albeit fond warfare, with costumes, ever since he ruined a jacket during series one.
"But it wasn't like I was having sex in it!" He squawks indignantly. "If you're going to have me running around a forest hunting things and it gets muddy and torn at, that is not my fault."
"And the chainmail what, got rusty on its own?" Colin asks. "Had nothing to do with you being insanely competitive when it comes to ultimate frisbee? We have you on tape being warned, you know."
"I don't like you anymore," Bradley decides, and storms off to probably go whack something with his sword and get the props department mad at both of them, because now when Bradley does stupid things it's Colin's fault for not stopping him.
And Katie's not the only one inquiring after their sex life (which sparser than one would think, given filming schedule). Hair and makeup are particularly relentless, cornering them while they're applying dirt or blood and can't move, and then interrogating them completely inappropriately.
"Bradley was pining awfully the last two weeks," Jo chides Colin, like this is his fault, and Olivia chimes in, "We don't like to see that boy sad, you know. He's far too pretty to be sad."
"I, um," Colin squirms.
"Hold still," Jo says, and then when she's powdering his neck, "oh, look at that, he missed you quite a bit!" Colin feels kind of like he wants to die.
"That's from the sword yesterday!" He protests. "You know, the one that they were pinning me to a tree with?"
"Oh, don't lie to us," Olivia snorts, leaning over to do something at her work station that displays her breasts rather magnificently. "We know."
"I - he's - it was the sword, alright! The hilt gave me that, not Bradley!"
"Of course it did," Jo soothes.
"It's on tape," Colin insists. "You'd have one too if you kept having something whack you in the neck."
"Or have someone biting you," Olivia giggles. "Not that I blame him, Colin, your neck is lovely."
"Oh my god," Colin says faintly, and is just about to melt into the floor when, of course Bradley comes in.
"Hello, ladies," he says, nodding to Olivia and Jo, and hands Colin a waterbottle. For the first time ever, Colin wishes he'd forgotten to bring water, which he never forgets - Bradley seems to think that the best way to show affection is through keeping Colin constantly hydrated or caffeinated or fed. But it causes Olivia to break into more helpless giggling. "Did I miss something?"
"They think you gave me the hilt hickey," Colin says mournfully while Jo applies a cut to his cheek.
"But we didn't even have sex last night," Bradley looks bewildered, and if Colin didn't have a brush on his face he'd turn around and throw his water on Bradley to shut him up. "You were worn out from the being thrown against the tree."
"You had your way with him against a tree?" Olivia gasps, scandalized. "In full costume?"
"What? No!" Bradley yelps. "Olivia, I didn't, and I swear, if you tell costume..."
She does, of course, tell costume, which means Bradley and Colin get another embarrassing, awkward lecture, and they mutually decide to do rather less day-seizing and consequence-fucking. For the good of everyone's sanity, especially theirs.
- - -
As a general rule, Colin really likes his fans. They're either of the young and cute persuasion or the older, nerdy variety, and he can see, if his life had gone a little differently, how he could have been one of them. The things they send him are frankly weird, but he supposes that it's some sort of appeal to his off-beat sense of humor, and he at least appreciates their effort.
The thing is, they're bloody everywhere, gawking and taking pictures and smiling and waving. Sometimes all he wants is for them to go away, because then he wouldn't feel so self-conscious around Bradley. Is he watching him too closely? Smiling at him too long? When he pats him on the shoulder, is it too familiar? He starts actively looking forward to closed sets or forest shoots where he can just sit in his director's chair next to Bradley and fall asleep on his broad, very comfy shoulder if he damn well pleases, and nobody will bother him.
"You worry too much," says Jake, one of the stand-in knights in Arthur's crew. "If I wasn't told you and Bradley were dating, I'd never have guessed."
"What wouldn't Jake have guessed?" Bradley asks,coming up behind Colin and handing him some coffee and crisps.
"Us," Colin says shortly before taking a giant gulp, finally warming up a little. It's misty and cold in the forest, today and he forgot his giant coat since it's almost May and he isn't supposed to need it anymore. He'd been jumping up and down a lot like he had to pee very badly until Bradley had thrown a blanket at his face and yelled at him for making him forget his marks with his jiggling just off camera.
"Jake doesn't pick up on anything," Bradley snorts.
"It's true," Jake admits. "My sister-in-law was pregnant for five months, but I just thought she was packing on the weight."
"Jake has been hit in the head too many times," Bradley says, whapping Jake with his prop sword. "Haven't you, Jake?"
"Don't go making it worse," Colin grabs Bradley's wrist. "You'll give him some real damage and he's probably very expensive to replace."
"Jake!" a PA calls. "We need you to stop getting hit with Bradley's sword for a second and come over here!"
"Now look what you've done," Colin scolds when Jake trots off. "Really well done, Bradley."
"Remember who gets you coffee," Bradley says, giving Colin a quick kiss that misses his cheek and ends up somewhere near his ear. "Come on, they don't need us for a bit. I'll play Mario Kart with you. Winner gets their choice of sexual favors."
Yes, Colin thinks, things are much more enjoyable when the fans aren't watching.
- - -
Mario Kart is declared a draw, since Colin and Bradley are called back on set before they can even finish the race. "What would you have asked for?" Colin asks Bradley during halftime of some French football match in their bed back at the hotel, and Bradley's only half paying attention. "I mean, if you'd won at Mario Kart?"
"Didn't really think about it," Bradley says. "That's how you lose your concentration."
"I guess," Colin says, watching an incomprehensible razor commercial in French. He thinks he gets the gist, though, but it's hard to tell if that's because he's getting better at French or because when a woman's caressing a man's face, the message comes across loud and clear. He sighs and drops his head on Bradley's shoulder, just resting his eyes until the next half comes on. Bradley makes a rumbling sort of chuckle and throws his arm around Colin, reaching up to ruffle his hair.
"Why?" he asks. "You have something in mind?"
"Not really," Colin says. "Not a sexual favor, anyways."
"What, then?"
"I wanted to go out," Colin mutters, glad his eyes are already closed so he doesn't have to see Bradley's face. "Not like we do here, like we did in Cardiff or London." When we could act like we were together is the unspoken sentiment that lingers in the air. Bradley sighs.
"We still could," he offers quietly, just enough to be heard over the commercials. "I'd take you out."
"We can't," Colin says. "It's a tiny town, full of tourists and fans. Everyone knows us. We'd be outing ourselves."
They're quiet a moment before Bradley says, in a small voice, "I'd still do it. You're worth it."
Colin pulls away and opens his eyes to better see Bradley's expression. He looks a little petrified, but defiant. His chin's tilted stubbornly upward, but his mouth isn't set, instead it's sort of pouting indecisively. He looks beautiful and it breaks Colin's heart. "It's not a question of worth it," Colin says quietly. "Because you are, if anyone's worth it. I kind of love you, you know."
Bradley sighs and bends his head to kiss Colin's fingers that are resting tentatively against his lower lip. "I do know," he says quietly. "Believe me, I know."
"I just don't want all that," Colin repeats his standby argument, a little desperate. "I can't handle that and filming and everything else."
"I'm not saying I can," Bradley says. "I'm just saying I wish it were different, though."
"Yeah," Colin agrees. They watch each other sadly until the commercials end, and Colin settles back down to rest on Bradley's shoulder. He's tired enough to sleep, but he can't. He isn't sure Bradley's paying much attention to the match either.
- - -
"We're not going to Paris," Colin notes when he wakes up enough to look at the French signs on the edge of the road and really take in his surroundings. Bradley had dragged him out of bed at an ungodly hour without coffee and insisted they get an early start for their four day mini-vacation away. Since "away" usually meant "Paris", Colin had assumed that was where they were going, but unless Bradley's desperately lost, that's certainly not the case.
"Thank you, Colin, for joining us once again in the land of the living," Bradley says calmly from the driver's seat.
"I thought we were going to Paris and would catch up with all the crew," Colin says, bewildered. "I thought everyone was meeting up on Sunday for drinks."
"They still are, but we will be in Laon."
"Laon?" Colin repeats. "Where the bloody fuck is Laon?"
"North-ish," Bradley shrugs. "Cute little town. Loads of nice architecture. Quiet. Private."
"Oh," Colin says quietly, shocked into near-silence. It's - it's all - it's overwhelmingly enormous and romantic and unexpected and exactly something Bradley would do and not what he was expecting to wake up to this morning.
"Is that okay?" Colin can't see Bradley's eyes behind his huge, stupid aviators, but he would guess they're crinkled with concern.
"It's amazing," Colin assures him. "Just, just unexpected. I'm... it's very early in the morning to take this all in."
"But you're happy?" Bradley keeps glancing from him, to the road, to him again. "This sounded like the sort of thing you wanted, but we're not too far, I can turn around."
"It's exactly what I wanted," Colin smiles. "I also don't want to die. Watch the road."
"Thank you, Colin. I'm so glad I brought you along for driving tips."
"Oh," Colin lets his grin turn this side of dirty, even though it's enough to make Bradley stop watching the road for longer than is strictly safe. "I don't think that's what you brought me along for at all."
- - -
Laon is exactly as Bradley described it - cute, quaint, lovely, little, and so very quiet. All the houses are like something out of a painting or postcard, and above them all rises the massive cathedral, which they spend an entire day exploring. The architecture there is amazing, Gothic and intricate with sweeping staircases, huge stained glass windows, and frighteningly detailed wall scones.
"This could be location scouting," Bradley says, filming in grand sweeps the inside of the cathedral and zooms in on a carved something-or-other sticking its tongue out from a wall scone.
"For what, the episode where Morgana runs away to join a nunnery?" Colin asks.
"Shut up, Colin," Bradley tells him.
They take the fancy new tram all over town - to tiny book stores and patisseries that serve decadent creations drenched in chocolate and cream. They have late lunches at little creperies and cafes and spend all morning doing the crossword with their feet jumbled together and kiss on street corners and no one seems to notice. Bradley even somehow managed to choose a bed and breakfast with thick walls so when they fuck Colin gets to be as loud as he likes without worrying that Katie or Anthony is going to pound on the walls and yell at them to keep it down.
On the last afternoon they wander aimlessly through the surrounding countryside, which is really an excuse to pack a knapsack full of food and be as loud and ridiculous as they want to without some bewildered French person staring at them and wondering what, exactly, is wrong with the two British boys with the camcorder, and looking mildly relieved whenever they go.
"This was a good vacation," Colin says, interrupting a long stretch of quiet staring at the sunset while Bradley is munching on some crusty baguette.
"Mmm," Bradley swallows. "It was."
"Better than Paris," Colin says softly. "Just what I wanted."
"Yeah?" Bradley looks painfully earnest and downright shy, like Colin's given him a gift and he thinks Colin's about to snatch it away. It makes Colin's heart ache from the sudden rush of adoration.
"Yeah," Colin affirms, covering Bradley's hand with his own. "I loved it."
Bradley smiles, gentle and private, the way he does on the rare moments he's peaceful - just the corners of his mouth curl upwards lazily, and his hand flips over to grab on to Colin's. He leans forward and whispers "me too" against Colin's lips like it's some sort of secret, just theirs to keep.
- - -
"Bradley!" Colin calls, letting himself in Bradley's room even though the shower's running. "My mum wants the videos you took in Laon of the cathedral."
"Why the hell does she want that?" Bradley shouts back. "Weren't your pictures enough?"
"They came out blurry in the low light, I didn't see until I got them on a big screen."
"Fine, they're on my computer, which is on the table near -"
"Got it." Colin finds Bradley's laptop under today's script, a pair of smelly socks, and a half-finished bottle of water, and is pleasantly surprised to see, when he boots it up, that there's already a video editing window open with the file name "laon" with a collection of clips Bradley was stringing together. Curiously, he clicks through some of it. It's mostly what he expected - them laughing and goofing around, the video of him singing along to the radio while he's driving, Colin dueling with Bradley off-screen with his fork, both of them in the cathedral - that goes in the thumb drive he brought over. He watches the rest, which is mostly them being ridiculous and annoying in small shops, and then the movie abruptly cuts to their hotel room. Instantly, Colin's tense, because he's got a pretty strict rule about that - he's never becomming the Irish Paris Hilton, even by accident.
"Hello, Merlin fans," Bradley says quietly on the screen. His eyes are puffy and his hair is standing on end, which means this was probably filmed early in the morning. "I'm in Laon with Colin, and he won't wake up. Will you, Colin?" The camera sweeps down to Bradley's lap, and then Colin, asleep next to what's obviously Bradley's naked hip.
"He's very lucky he's adorable when he sleeps," Bradley's voice says, which is strange, because Colin was just thinking about how boring he looks, pale and with one hand curled protectively in front of his mouth. Everyone he's ever heard on this subject seems to think that watching someone sleep is like seeing a whole new side of them, but he's found it's mostly like seeing someone with their eyes closed. It's boring and stupid and the whole watching someone do it thing seems a little creepy to him.
"Fun fact about Colin," Bradley's voice goes on. "He can sleep through bloody anything, which is why I can safely record this. In fact, he's got three alarms he sets to make it to call every morning. The only problem is, he sleeps through all of them and then they end up waking everyone trying to have a lie-in. Isn't that right, Colin?" Colin seems to register that someone's said his name on-screen, because he shifts and makes an indistinct noise. The camera jiggles and then pulls back as Bradley's profile comes in front of it, where he leans down and kisses Colin's upturned mouth gently, which makes on-screen Colin grunt and then sigh. On-screen Bradley laughs and pulls away.
"Now," Bradley whispers, "the best way to wake Colin up is to do a lot more of that, but I won't record that or he'll get mad at me. Anyways, we're in Laon, like I said -"
"Bradley stoppit." Colin on-screen grumbles, shifting in the background to bury his face in the pillow.
"Right," Bradley on-screen says, and clicks off the recording, and the screen goes to black.
"I can delete that," Bradley - real Bradley- toweled off and in a clean t-shirt and boxers says quietly, leaning in bathroom doorframe. His face is carefully impassive. Colin had been so absorbed in the videos he hadn't even noticed the shower had stopped. "Sorry. I know you don't want any videos of us like that."
"Bradley - " Colin begins gently.
"I just wanted one," Bradley's voice is so quiet Colin can barely hear it. "Just one."
Colin shuts his mouth abruptly, watching Bradley's perfectly-neutral face as he takes the smelly socks on his table away and puts them in is laundry bag. "Don't delete it," he says finally. Bradley looks up at him like he's gone mad.
"And if my computer gets stolen?" He asks.
"It won't get stolen."
"If it does, Colin."
"Then we'll tell everyone sooner than expected, I guess." Colin shrugs as if this is no big deal, even though his heart feels like it's trying to beat out of his chest.
"I didn't know you expected to tell people." Bradley sits next to Colin on the bed, but carefully keeps some distance between them. Colin isn't having any of it, and moves so their sides are touching.
"When all of this is done," he says quietly. "When we've got other jobs - or don't, if we don't want them. But when we aren't Merlin and Arthur anymore, just, just Colin and Bradley. Then I thought, maybe, I mean..."
"Really?" Bradley asks, voice cracking. "I mean, that's a long time, Colin."
"Yes." Colin doesn't even think about it. It isn't even a question to him. "I'm sure." He pauses. "Idiot."
Bradley chuckles and rests his forehead on Colin's shoulder, wet hair soaking through his t-shirt, and Colin doesn't even care, just buries his nose in the dampness and breathes. "You should send your mum those videos," Bradley says finally.
"I'm where I want to be right now," Colin murmurs into Bradley's hair. "Everyone else is just going to have to wait."
- - -
If Colin's mother is right about one thing, it's that he likes the impossible. He likes fantasy and what can never be, which explains a lot about the choices he makes regarding his love life. He hates the idea of getting too comfortable or being too settled. He wants his life to always be a bit of a magical adventure, and yes, sometimes he wants it to be difficult, because the alternative is life being too easy and, god forbid, boring.
Colin never has to worry his life is going to get too easy with Bradley around, which is one of the reasons he loves him so. Even without the coming out versus not coming out question, Bradley is difficult. He's loud, he's reckless, and he doesn't know when to leave well enough alone or what the word "no" means. Colin will probably never get him to clean up his dirty socks or put down his camcorder or shut up for longer than fifteen minutes unless he's asleep, like he is right now, in Colin's hotel room, with his dirty trainers on the clean duvet cover.
"You're disgusting," Colin says to the silent room. "Why are your trainers on the bed?"
"Grmph," Bradley says into the pillows, and tries to kick them off, which just makes more mud go flying.
"Enough," Colin walks over and pulls them off, and then holds his breath while he peels Bradley's socks off and flings them in the dirty laundry bag. "Your socks are horrible," he tells Bradley.
"Mmmkay," Bradley sighs.
"I have no idea why I put up with you," Colin tells him, sitting on the foot of the bed and taking his shoes, socks, and jeans off like a normal person does before they lie down.
"Because I'm cute," Bradley suggests, throwing an arm over Colin when he curls up beside him. "And good at sex."
"Okay," Colin says indulgently, pushing the fringe out of Bradley's eyes. "Let's go with that."
Richard is, of course, beyond delighted when Colin tells him, hugging him and clapping his back and beaming like Colin's won some sort of prize. He even insists on taking them out to dinner, which leaves Bradley elated and petrified by turns.
"I don't get what you're so nervous about," Colin says, watching Bradley sort through his billionth shirt. "It's just Richard."
"There is no such thing as just Richard," Bradley says, and then decides that apparently a red button down sends the wrong impression and starts taking it off. Colin's not exactly discouraging this freak-out because it means he gets to lie on their bed and watch Bradley be half-naked a lot. "He's a legend, Colin. He's, like, gay professionally."
"Oh, yeah," Colin nods. "He was telling me about his extensive training courses. The practicals sounded intense, though. I hear they're really hands-on at the Homo Academy. Leave no arse untouched."
"Col-in," Bradley groans, but whatever else he's about to say is cut off by someone coming loudly in the front door.
"Hello, boys!" Katie's voice calls out. "I know you're home. Angel and I are coming in."
"We're in Bradley's bedroom," Colin calls back. It's really both of their rooms and Colin's room just a place to store whatever doesn't fit anywhere else at this point, but Katie and Angel don't know that.
"Ooh, you're getting fancy," Katie says, poking her head in the door as Bradley stuffs himself into a blue sweater and frowns at his reflection. "What's the big occasion?"
"Dinner with Richard," Colin says, making room for Angel on the bed. "Bradley's been at this for at least an hour."
"I liked that sweater on you," Angel says. "Brings out your eyes."
"This isn't a date, Angel," Bradley grumbles. "I don't think he'll be looking into my eyes."
"Well I guess that answers our question of if you wanted to have a pub night," Katie says. "Still up for it, Colin?"
"Oh, no, I'm going with Bradley." Katie's eyebrows arch even more perfectly. "Richard invited both of us out."
"What, as a boy's night?" Katie sniffs. "I see how it is. We're engaging in rampant sexism between us now."
"It's not sexism," Bradley says from his closet. "Hey, Angel, what do I own that says 'I'm earnest and trustworthy and a promising young gentleman'?"
"Richard's met you before, Bradley," Angel sighs. "He already knows you're none of those things."
"That's what I said," Colin says. "But no, my opinion isn't good enough."
"What about that black shirt you wore when we were on the lottery?" Angel suggests. "That's nice."
"I'm wearing this navy shirt," Colin shakes his head. "No matching each other."
"Well how about a white shirt?" Katie flops down at the foot of the bed. "Can't go wrong with a white button-down."
"You can if we're going to a nice restaurant and Bradley's probably ordering a steak," Colin says. "Tried that one already."
"Just put the sweater back on," Angel coaxes. "You look lovely in it. Wear a nice undershirt instead of one of your raggedy t-shirts."
"Fine," Bradley says, pulling it on. He does look nice, Colin thinks. Very, very nice. You can see how broad his shoulders are in that sweater, and it does make his eyes look amazing. He really wishes Angel and Katie weren't around right now, or that they didn't have to leave in fifteen minutes, because that sweater is giving him a lot of ideas and making him want to do a lot of inappropriate things. "Oh God," Bradley looks in the mirror. "Now I have sweater hair."
"What's the big deal about this dinner anyways?" Katie asks, watching Bradley attack his head with a comb. "And why weren't we invited?"
Bradley and Colin both freeze and stare at each other in the mirror.
"It's..." Colin's tongue feels thick and stupid, but he knows he has to speak because Bradley can't lie at the drop of a hat to save his life, and he's not going to come out without Colin's say-so. "Bradley and I are together in a, you know, relationship. So Richard's, um, taking us out to celebrate."
There's dead silence for a few moments before Angel and Katie break into laughter.
"It's not funny," Bradley says, affronted.
"You must think we're idiots," Katie gasps, wiping at her eyes. "There's no way you two are together."
"We are!" Bradley's insistence is ruined, a little, by the fact that he's combing his hair furiously.
"No, no," Angel says, taking a few deep breaths. "I mean, we've hardly been able to do any work around all the sexual..." she chokes back a giggle, "...tension."
Colin just gapes at Bradley, who's looking back at him, equally dumbfounded. Colin had imagined a lot of doomsday scenarios in reaction to their coming out, but incredulous laughter had honestly never occurred to him. He supposes this is why his mother always cautioned him against pulling too many pranks on people.
"We are!" Bradley says indignantly. "Look, I'll show you." He marches over to Colin and says, "I can kiss you, right?"
"Uh," Colin looks at Katie and Angel, who are watching them with mild interest, like the two of them are a vaguely entertaining and wholly unbelievable movie they came across on the telly, the kind you watch on Sundays when you're bored and have nothing else to do. "Go ahead. Just no tongue."
"Ruin all my fun, why don't you," Bradley grumbles, but leans down and kisses Colin gently, chastely enough that Colin doesn't feel like he's putting on a pornographic display and die of embarrassment. He does slip Colin a little tongue at the end, because he's Bradley, swiping over the divot he's so fond of in Colin's bottom lip because he knows it makes Colin squeak. Bradley's a bit of a bastard.
"There," Bradley says, pulling away. "Are you happy?"
Katie and Angel exchange looks before Katie gives them two thumbs down. "Weak." She says. "You've got to have passion to sell it."
"You looked very nice together, though," Angel says helpfully. "It was a very sweet visual. There just was no... heat. You seemed uncomfortable."
"Well, yeah, kissing in front of people tends to make me uncomfortable," Colin says. "Surprise."
"No, it's because there was no tongue. Colin, let me kiss you with tongue," Bradley leans back down, but Colin squirms away.
"Not in front of them," he yelps, covering his face.
"Way to ruin our point, Colin," Bradley sighs, but he goes back to his hair.
"Anyways," Katie sniffs disdainfully, getting off the bed, "if you two are just going to be jerks, we're going down to the pub. Enjoy your sexist dinner bonding."
"It's not sexist!" Colin calls after her and Angel. "We really are dating!" His only answer is the door slamming closed.
"This is why you should let me properly snog you in front of people," Bradley says righteously, combing his hair flat. "Realism."
"Shut up or I'll tell you your arse looks fat in those jeans," Colin says, and then regrets it when Bradley turns around to stare at his butt, horrified. "It doesn't really!"
"Are you sure?" Bradley asks, frowning.
"Yes,"Colin sighs, covering his face with a pillow. "I'm sure."
- - -
Bradley is tense throughout dinner, no matter how much wine he has or how many jokes Colin or Richard make. Colin gets the distinct impression that Bradley's on his meet-the-parents behavior, which is patently ridiculous on so many levels. As far as Colin's concerned, once someone beats you at table tennis over twenty times, you can't be awkward around them anymore.
"I'm sorry," he whispers to Richard while Bradley runs nervously to the bathroom for the umpteenth time. "He's gone all star-struck again, he's afraid you'll judge him because you're..."
"Gay?" Richard asks behind his menu.
"Well, he called it professionally gay," Colin mutters. "But yes. He's worried you won't approve of this."
"I approve plenty," Richard smiles. "In fact, I'd always thought you two were wonderful together, I just always assumed it was as friends. If it's more, well, that's also lovely."
Colin just smiles, because Bradley's sitting himself back down and it's time to order, but he shoots Richard a significant look, which Richard acknowledges with a wink and a nod. For the rest of the meal, Richard keeps things light, telling wild stories about the men he picked up while acting in the West End. But even though Bradley's laughing hysterically, he still feels tense next to Colin and his eyes dart nervously to Colin's in between stories. Finally, Colin simply can't hold it in, any longer, he really has to use the bathroom, despite Bradley's desperate, imploring eyes.
"Don't leave me alone," Bradley hisses. "I don't know what to say."
"You're doing fine," Colin says, wiggling unhappily. "Talk about anything, I don't care, he doesn't care, but I really have to go."
"Fine," Bradley lets go of his wrist and Colin runs to the loo like a bat out of hell. He's as quick as he can possibly be, but when he's heading back to the private room they're in, he hears Richard and Bradley's low voices talking earnestly to each other.
"...expected him to want to keep this private," Richard is saying. "But not from you."
"Well, it's whatever Colin wants, right?" Bradley says stiffly. Colin can see him start to tap his spoon in a nervous rhythm.
"This isn't a test, Bradley," Richard says severely. "I was asking you."
"I..." The spoon thumps softly a few more times. "Colin, he's, he's got this thing, where you see him and you just want to take care of him, you know? You just want to make him happy."
Richard snorts. "I suspect you more than most people."
"I guess," Bradley admits. He sounds more relaxed, now. "But I've always, even when we were just friends. I look at him and it's not about me. And part of me wants to tell everyone how happy I am, but mostly, mostly I just - I look at him, you know, and all I want to do is make sure no one bothers him. So yeah, it means sneaking about when I don't want to or not holding his hand or whatever, but I don't miss it. I don't even think about it, really."
There's silence for a moment before Richard goes, gently, "Have you told Colin this?"
"Sort of," Bradley hedges. "I leave out the protecting part, though. He'd hate that."
"He would," Richard agrees. "And calm down, Bradley, for heaven's sake. I still like you, you know."
"I. Um." Bradley's mouth opens and closes uselessly. "I mean..." This, Colin decides, is his time to interrupt.
"Back," he says cheerfully, sitting back down, and under the table Bradley latches his hand onto Colin's immediately. His palms are a sweaty mess. "Did I miss anything?"
"Nothing at all," Richard replies with equal cheer. "How do you boys feel about dessert?"
- - -
Reporters are always around to interview someone, and Colin barely even notices it anymore. He's stopped trying to keep track of when he or anyone else is being interviewed, he just politely answers questions and tries to keep out of the way of groups of people with equipment he doesn't know. He doesn't even stop and try to make Bradley laugh on-camera when he sees him being interviewed after lunch, just waves and keeps eating his apple as he walks past and Bradley recites his same answers about castles and how great the show is.
"So are you seeing someone?" The interviewer asks. She sounds young and from what Colin saw of the side of her head, she was relatively pretty. She's probably subtly hitting on Bradley, like it will make him take her behind a trailer for a shag. It wouldn't be the first time someone tried it.
"You know, I've found it's pretty hard to date someone when you're on my schedule." Bradley laughs, short and self-deprecating. "Filming eight or more hours a day, not really conducive to a lot of romance." Colin freezes, because that is not Bradley's usual answer.
"Oh," the interviewer gives a fluttering little laugh, "I'm sure you'd make time for someone special."
"Well of course." Colin can hear the chainmail when Bradley shrugs. "If you're in love with someone, you'll make it work, you know?"
The interviewer laughs again and segues into Bradley's love arc with Angel this season, and Colin goes into is trailer, happily munching on the rest of his apple.
- - -
Colin is not pouting because he's not going to see Bradley for twelve days. He's pouting, perhaps, because it's arse-o'clock in the morning, or because it's raining, or a million other reasons.
But mostly, it's that Bradley's going back to France with Angel twelve days early to film some stunts and love scenes while Katie finishes a few scenes and has a short vacation, and Colin has to do a million different pick-ups so they can get the first few episodes down pat. In theory, Colin knows that twelve days isn't a terribly long time. Even if Bradley were there, they'd probably be too busy to do much of anything, or see each other, or even have a whole lot of sex. But it's the principle of it that grates at Colin, the fact that ever since they've been properly together (how he counts it, not how Bradley counts it), they've never spent so long apart. And if it's going to be anything like that month he was in Armagh trying to act like he was cool just being Bradley's shag on the side, it's going to be absolutely awful.
"Cheer up," Bradley says softly. They're huddled together at the completely deserted train station while Angel uses the loo. Colin doesn't know why Bradley has to take the five AM train and try to get in some stunt training in France all in the same day, but Johnny and Julian always yell things like "Time is money!" when confronted with scheduling absurdities like this one. "Twelve days will be over before you know it. I'll call all the time."
"I'm being pathetic, I know," Colin sighs, straightening Bradley's coat collar against the nip still in the spring morning air.
"Sweet," Bradley corrects. "Adorable. Lovely. Perhaps a little needy."
"Shut up," Colin mutters half-heartedly, tilting his head and catching Bradley's lips in an easy, hello-good-morning sort of kiss, the kind he usually gets with his breakfast cereal and he'll miss dreadfully. It doesn't feel like proper morning anymore without Bradley's hand on the side of his face or Bradley's voice, still sleep-rough and rumbling, making nonsensical noises that sound like endearments. It's part of his routine along with coffee and a shower, and he doesn't know how he's supposed to maintain his professionalism when deprived of this utterly necessary thing.
Bradley opens his mouth to say something close and private, but he's cut off by an unnaturally loud shriek from Angel followed by an "oh my God you two!" They jump apart guiltily.
"Um," Colin manages intelligently, turning bright red under Angel's calculating gaze and the hands clapped over her mouth. "Surprise? We told you we weren't joking?"
"But you, but, but I can't believe, but you two," Angel splutters, looking back and forth. "I mean you two really..."
"This train will be boarding in five minutes," a bored-sounding woman's voice comes over the loudspeaker. "Five minutes before boarding."
"Well!" Bradley says brightly, "I'm going to make one last run to the loo, then."
"You are not!" Colin yelps, grabbing Bradley's arm. "You are not leaving me alone with her!"
"I'm going to have to be alone with her the entire ride. In a private car," Bradley hisses, glaring. "And the toilets will not smell very good, Colin. Have some mercy."
"Fine," Colin sighs, letting Bradley run to the men's room like someone lit him on fire. Angel, for her part, has the good grace to wait until Bradley's out of earshot before turning a too-interested expression on Colin.
"So," she says with great relish. "How long has this been going on?"
"Three months," Colin mutters, kicking at a bit of litter he can't identify and doesn't quite want to. "But if you ask Bradley, he'll say six, because he counts before we were serious."
"Six months," Angel mutters to herself, counting backwards "That means October, which is..."
"Right before I left for Mull," Colin fills in.
"Oh my god," Angel shrieks, clapping her hands to her face, a gesture Colin has already become heartily sick of. "The dream."
"The what?"
"Bradley had this, this dream in September," Angel babbles, her hands fluttering like nervous birds. "About kissing you or something, and he was completely an idiot about it. He came to me for advice and was asking if it was okay if he just sort of... shagged you on the side like you were just this, this thing he was using, and I told him he was a prick. Oh, I can't believe him..."
"I was the one who suggested not being serious," Colin says fairly, because if he doesn't interject Bradley will spend the entire train ride being assaulted. "I'd been mad about him for ages and I thought, I don't know, I didn't want to force him into anything. The casual was just as much for me."
"I just don't know what to do with the two of you," Angel sighs, sounding disgustingly like Colin's mother. "You're just the biggest pair of completely ridiculous - no. I don't even have a word for what you two are. And the Christmas party! You were together then? Bloody hell, Colin, I can't believe you!" She punches his arm, hard. And he doesn't really have much cushioning on his arm protecting him.
"Ow!" He says, rubbing it. "I didn't do anything!"
"You were flirting with Olivia! No wonder Bradley left early! He said he was knackered but he was pining! He was pining for you, you idiot." She punches him again.
"You threw her at me!" Colin says righteously. "You were all, look who's lonely, Colin, look who needs cheering up, Colin. I wasn't about to be mean. And as far as I knew at that point Bradley was using me for sex."
"And you were letting him!" Angel keeps punching his arm. "How did the pair of you get so stupid and survive this long? How are you dating each other? How does that work if you're both so monumentally stupid?"
"Angel, stop beating my boyfriend," Bradley, glorious Bradley, says from behind her.
"Yeah," Colin says, "Only Bradley beats me regularly, but it's just to show me how much he cares."
"You're lucky I don't beat both of you, not telling us for so long," Angel grumbles, barely audible over the voice telling them to board the train. "C'mon, Bradley, if you miss the train, it won't just be me after your blood."
"In a minute," Bradley waves her away, and Angel boards with angrily squinted eyes.
"Sorry," Colin says when they're alone again. "Bad timing for her to believe us."
"I'll survive," Bradley sighs, leaning in for one final kiss, a proper kind of goodbye kiss at a train station, the kind that's deep and wet and completely inappropriate in public and that makes Colin feel like he's been shocked all the way down to his toes. "Love you," Bradley whispers when he pulls away.
"You too. Be good."
"Aw, c'mon, Colin," Bradley breaks into a mischievous grin. "If I do that then how will anyone recognize me?"
"They'll find a way," Colin assures him, and stands there in the cold spring air, watching the train as Bradley boards it and it pulls out of the station, until it's just a dot on the horizon.
- - -
Colin spends most of the next couple of days yelling at John Hurt's voice in a green room. It's lonely. The crew is lovely, but he's used to acting with someone else. Going from scenes with people to scenes where he and Merlin are alone, yelling and frightened and at the last port in a storm, is hard enough without having to go home to an empty flat that reeks of Bradley and have him not be there.
"You're insanely depressing to be around," Katie berates him.
"You don't even have to still be here, you know," Colin's waiting while they lay down some new tracks, and he's fidgety, and he's tired, and he has no idea what Katie's doing still hanging around. "Didn't they finish the Morgana doing something magical and scary scenes two hours ago?"
"Yes, but if I left, I couldn't bother at you," Katie says, settling down in the director's chair next to Colin. "Besides, I find your cave-yelling technique really inspiring."
"I'm not in the mood, Katie," Colin says shortly, checking for a text message he knows won't be there because Bradley should be filming a fight all afternoon.
"Why Colin Morgan, I do believe you're pining." Colin makes a face at her. Pining sounds very... Mills and Boon.
"Not pining," he corrects. "I'm just missing certain things I've... grown accustomed to."
"Oh god," Katie looks revolted. "I didn't need to know that much about your sex lives."
"That's not what I meant!" Colin can feel his ears turning bright red. "Um, mostly not what I meant. I meant... other things."
"Are you telling me you miss Bradley's sweaty socks?" Katie asks. "You can't tell me, honestly, that you're pining for those things. I won't believe you."
"I'm not pining for Bradley's socks," Colin recites dutifully, even though he is, a little.
"Liar," Katie snorts. They're silent for a few moments before Katie sighs. "It's just - Bradley?" She asks. "Really? He never seemed like he'd be any good in bed." Colin is exceedingly glad that there's nothing in or near his mouth for him to comically spit-take or choke on.
"What?" He finally manages.
"He just seems..." Katie makes a face. "Pushy. Knows how good-looking he is. Lazy. Boyish."
"He's not." Colin feels compelled to come to Bradley's defense, even though it's semi-mortifying to do so. He'll make Bradley make it up to him later. "He's... he's warm."
Katie doubtfully peers at Colin behind her glasses, like she thinks the separation has caused Colin to lose whatever sanity he may have had. Colin doesn't blame her, because he rather feels like it's true. "Warm?" She finally asks.
"Yeah, he's, you know." Gentle, Colin wants to say. Affectionate. He's the most considerate person Colin's ever been with, maybe because he actually cares about Colin more than anyone else has. He's physically warm, too, like a furnace. Colin's always chilly except for when Bradley's next to him or touching him. Wherever Bradley drags his hands across Colin, it's like a flash from a hot water bottle, comforting and grounding. And the way he looks when they're together, hot skin and golden sunshine-y hair that wickedly happy, glowing smile and... Colin shouldn't keep thinking about this if he's got to be ready to act in ten seconds. "He's just very warm." He tells Katie. "And that's all you're getting."
"I'm getting warm," Katie says disdainfully. "You keep this from me for months - "
"It's not my fault you didn't believe us!" Colin interjects righteously.
"- and I get warm."
"Yeah," Colin nods. "Yeah, that's what I think you get."
"Colin!" Geoff calls. "We need you back on set."
"Oh, look at that," Colin says with an utter lack of remorse. "I've got to go."
"You're a pathetic human being, Colin Morgan!" Katie calls after him, and Colin, very professionally, flips her the bird.
- - -
Colin has one afternoon off during his sojurn of solitude. He's started referring to the twelve-day stretch as that, because it sounds like something epic and manly Merlin might embark on, rather than what it really is, which is an exercise in discovering the extent of his drippy co-dependence. In theory, he's very grateful for the afternoon to nap and do laundry and catch up on e-mail, but in practice he's curled up on Bradley's side of the bed re-reading Love in the Time of Cholera and identifying with Florentino far more than he feels strictly comfortable with. He's half-dozing, lulled by the familiar smell of Bradley's pillow, half re-reading the same paragraph over and over when his phone rings on the side table and wakes him up. ANGEL, his phone informs him, which is weird, because she and Bradley are scheduled to be filming right now, and the only way they wouldn't be filming is if something went horribly wrong, and the only reason Angel would be calling an not Bradley is... oh God.
"What's happened to Bradley," he says the second the call starts. "Do I need to catch a plane over there? Is he okay?"
"What?" Angel asks. "No. I mean, yes, he's fine, Colin."
"Thank God," Colin exhales. His heart is still trying valiantly to beat out of his chest. "You scared the fuck out of me."
"No, it's a different kind of problem with the," Angel lowers her voice in a way that's nearly comic, "the kissing scene."
"What? How am I in any way involved in that? He kisses me just fine."
"I know," Angel says dryly. "I saw, remember?"
"Yes, hah hah, you're wonderfully funny, Angel," Colin says. Hearing about Angel getting to kiss Bradley is, surprisingly, not on his list of top things to spend his afternoon off doing.
"Oh, Colin, it's going terribly," Angel says. "Either he leans up because he forgets I'm not you, or he kisses not in character because he's thinking about you, or I'm thinking about you and feeling guilty, and I ruin the scene by over-thinking. Jeremy's going mental, I swear."
"What am I supposed to do about that?"
"Talk to him," Angel begs. "Please, he's sulking in his trailer and wouldn't do it when I suggested it, but he needs to, it's awful. I think we're going to be fired."
"Fine," Colin sighs, but when he calls Bradley, it's a totally different story.
"Look, I did that leaning up thing on the first take," Bradley grumbles. He sounds muffled, like he's eating.
"She says you're not kissing in character."
"I'm just fucking trying anything at this point," Bradley says. "I'll kiss her using my teeth if I thought that would work. She's completely gone around the bend, asking before every take if I'm sure I'm okay."
"But you are?" Colin asks quietly.
"No," Bradley viciously crunches something. Crisps, Colin thinks. "The second she's fine I screw up. I've spent all this time trying not to think about you when I'm kissing her, and then she's gone and ruined it by worrying, and then I am thinking about you and it's awkward."
"I'm sorry," Colin says gently, even though he isn't even the tiniest bit, and Bradley's fucking up because of him makes him feel a little warm in the pit of his stomach. He's very probably a terrible person.
"I don't want to be kissing her." Bradley sounds like he's on the verge of a temper tantrum. "I want to be kissing you. And it shows on-screen."
"Well then maybe you should, you know." Colin cannot believe he's spending his afternoon advising his boyfriend on how to kiss someone else for his job. Somewhere, someone's laughing at him. "Look, Arthur wants to be kissing Gwen, right, so maybe you should think like you're kissing me, only I'm shorter, yeah? Stop thinking so much about being an actor and think about," he makes a hand gesture before remembering Bradley can't see him. "Think about what you and Arthur have in common."
"Huh." Bradley munches for a few moments. "You think that'll work?"
"Can it be worse than what you're already trying?" Colin points out.
"Hit me where it hurts, Morgan. Hit me w-" Someone says something on Bradley's end. "Look," Bradley says quietly. "I've got to go, okay?"
"Yeah," Colin says. "I-" miss you. Love you. Am pathetically hugging your pillow. "You know."
"I know," Bradley says, and it sounds like he does. Colin hangs up and puts the phone on the other end of the bed with his book, before he closes his eyes and lets himself drift to sleep on Bradley's scent. When he wakes up, he has a new text from Bradley.
worked on 1st take. ur a genius. i could kiss you. ;)
- - -
It's a good thing Bradley isn't at the train station when Colin arrives in France, because Colin would probably have decided, to hell with it, and just jumped Bradley then and there. It's sort of been a vague thought humming in the back of his brain in tune with the sound of the tracks as he dozed lightly, Bradley Bradley, going to see Bradley, Bradley Bradley Bradley...
His room is depressingly empty when he gets to the hotel, dark and quiet, and he's just about to call Bradley and see when he'll be done with filming when the door jiggles open and Bradley bursts through.
"Colin," he breathes, staring at Colin like he's a ghost.
"Were you expecting to break into someone else's room, then?" Colin asks, feeling himself start to smile big and stupid. "Because I could leave and come back in disguise if that would make it easier."
Bradley lets out a short, strangled bark of laughter. "No, it's just, Christ, Colin."
"You could come over here," Colin suggests, rocking back and forth on his feet. "Say hello, perhaps."
As soon as the words are out of his mouth Bradley's launches himself at Colin, wrapping his arms around Colin's waist and holding on like if he let go Colin would simply cease to be. "God, I missed you," he says, his face mashed into the junction of Colin's neck and shoulder.
"I'm here," Colin says quietly into Bradley's ear. "I'm right here." He buries his face in Bradley's hair, inhaling his scent, brushing his lips against Bradley's forehead, which Bradley takes as a hint and finally kisses Colin. He tastes like makeup and the weak tea they serve on set. Colin hates that tea, and Bradley's mouth right now is still the best thing he's ever tasted. For all Bradley's trying to be gentle he's clumsy and hungry, mouthing the pout of Colin's lower lip like he has to re-commit it to memory. He's pliant, easy to back up onto the perfectly made bed and tumble over.
"I missed you," Bradley repeats, pulling away for breath and framing Colin's face with his broad, warm hands. His eyes are so blue, Colin thinks hazily. Whenever Bradley's happy his eyes are warm and soft and very, very blue. "I was a completely awful, moping mess."
"Really," Colin kicks his shoes off, which Bradley must have done before he came over, because his bare feet have been teasingly sneaking under the cuff of Colin's trousers for a while now. "And I heard you were a professional."
"I may have exaggerated," Bradley mutters, pinking slightly. "I may have ruined a few takes thinking about your ears."
"My ears."
"I like them." One of Bradley's fingers comes up and traces along the shell. It makes Colin involuntarily shudder. "Yeah. That's what I missed."
"I missed..." Colin trails off. He doesn't even know what he missed. The way Bradley sings bad pop songs in the shower? His sweaty clothes in a ball in the corner of the bedroom? The way his hair curls around his neck? How he kisses Colin right after he's eaten meat just to piss Colin off? "I missed everything," he says finally. "I just missed you."
"Me too. I mean, I missed you, not me. I obviously didn't miss myself."
"You could stop talking now," Colin suggests helpfully.
"I could," Bradley says. "That would be a good idea. You could help me."
"Mmm," Colin hums and leans down for a kiss, lazy this time. He wants, yes, but it's a low, even burn, simmering in the pit of his stomach, and he's been wanting for so long to just touch, to lay down next to Bradley and remember the way he feels when his breathing is heavy and every part of him is straining to touch more.
"Colin," Bradley groans, "C'mon, Colin." He wedges one of his legs in between Colin's and thrusts up and, well, that's a convincing argument. "Been waiting so long."
"Mhm." Colin neatly tugs Bradley out of his shirt so he can watch his heavy breathing close-up, because it's glorious and a little silly and very, very real, but it's ruined by Bradley struggling out of his trousers and shucking off his boxers, which are already a little damp. "Jesus," Colin breathes. "Don't tell me you didn't beat off for twelve days or something."
"Four," Bradley corrects, helping Colin with his clothes that are suddenly far too warm and constricting. "Four days. I have a very busy filming schedule. Besides," his hands skid down Colin's spine, which is breaking out in cold sweat. "There are some things I can't do on my own, and you're very cruelly not giving them to me."
Colin laughs quietly into Bradley's mouth. "I'm cruel, now?"
"Yeah," Bradley says, leaning down to nip at the Colin's neck where he knows the costume will cover it, and Colin lets out an undignified squeak. "You know how long I've been waiting on you, Colin Morgan? For-fucking-ever."
"You've been waiting on me forever?" Colin dips his head to kiss down the center of Bradley's chest, to whisper against it. "Sounds uncomfortable."
"Yeah, well," Bradley's voice is tight somewhere above his head. "I'd wait on you a lot longer, if I had to." Colin splutters somewhere vaguely north of Bradley's belly button and looks up. "What?" Bradley's hand comes to rest heavy against Colin's head. "I would."
Colin lets out an indistinct groan and surges back upwards to kiss Bradley viciously, tangling tongues and rutting against him like a teenager. Gone is the vague idea of savoring their reunion, he wants it hot and fast and not his hand and now. "I was trying to make this nice," he pants out while he presses sloppy kisses all over Bradley's face. "You bastard." That makes Bradley laugh, loud and delighted.
"You're so easy," he says. He's hot and strong and Colin's been desperate for that, desperate for Bradley's smell and laugh and arms but he was trying to not go off like a teenager the second Bradley touched him, either, because he may be horny but he's also exhausted and wants nothing more than to pass the hell out the second he comes. But at least when he's desperate and grabby, it makes Bradley positively gleeful. He keeps whispering things against Colin's ear like "you just want to hear how much I missed you, huh?" and, "turns you on that I love you, such a fucking girl, Colin" until Colin can't stand it and sucks Bradley's tongue in his mouth so he'll shut the hell up and just start moving. And then when he does, when their bodies lock together like this all Colin can think is yes, because obviously, this is why he's felt so empty. Obviously his real purpose in life is not, to act or play Merlin on the telly, but to be rubbing off against Bradley James until Bradley makes a little surprised noise and grabs his arse like this is a complete revelation, that he enjoys humping against Colin after not seeing him for two weeks, and that it will make both of them come their brains out.
Then again, Colin thinks with hazy fondness, Bradley always was a bit dim.
"Hey, Colin," Bradley says, punctuating Colin's afterglow by shaking his shoulder. "Cols, come on, get a tissue at least before you fall asleep on me."
"Too tired to move," Colin mumbles into Bradley's neck. It's a nice neck, all scratchy and sweaty. It tastes good.
"Oh, Jesus Christ." Bradley says, hefting Colin onto the other side of the bed and getting up. Colin watches him drowsily, admiring how Bradley looks naked. He very rarely takes time to watch Bradley naked because he's too busy doing things to him, and he should make a point of watching more. Bradley's bum is rather phenomenal. The front view isn't so bad either.
"Budge up," Bradley says cajoling, returning with a wet washcloth to clean Colin up. He made sure to run it under warm water and is wiping down Colin gently, almost like he's a baby. "...completely useless after sex," Bradley snorts, pulling the blankets out from under Colin, who grunts unhappily but burrows under them when Bradley tucks him in. "I was defending Camelot all day, Colin, I should be the one who gets waited on. What's your excuse?"
"I was using magic to save your sorry arse," Colin mumbles, lifting his arm so Bradley can sprawl under it. It's the closest to cuddling he's come with any other person. "And it's your fault, anyways."
"That Camelot was in danger?"
"That I'm already so useless." Colin brushes the ends of Bradley's hair idly. "I was trying to make it last, but no. You wouldn't have it."
"Yeah, well." Bradley smiles at Colin, the wide, crinkly smile that's pretty enough to make Colin take his hand away from the back of Bradley's neck to touch the corners of his eyes. "Sometimes you've got to go all in and tell your plans to go fuck themselves."
"That... was oddly profound." Colin says. "To our current situation. Except our plans have fucked themselves on their - what's so funny?"
"Most people fuck someone stupid," Bradley says fondly. "Only you'd fuck someone into being profound."
"Oh, shut up." Colin grumbles, turning over. "I don't know why I missed you at all." He hears Bradley snicker, shift, and then the lamp light goes out.
"But you did," Bradley's disembodied voice comes from behind him, and then an arm is flung across his middle, almost like they're spooning, except there's too much distance between them. "You did miss me."
"Yeah," Colin smiles into his pillow. "Whatever."
- - -
The seize the day and fuck the plans approach works pretty well for Colin at first. Everyone on set is genuinely happy that they're together, cooing over them and offering congratulations. Marge from catering makes them their favorite biscuits for snack breaks and brings them out with a wink and pats on the cheek.
"Okay," Colin tells Bradley, "you're only allowed to break up with me if it's for Marge. I won't even complain, I'll just give you my blessing if it means she's cooking for me."
"What is everyone's obsession with me hooking up with Marge?" Bradley grumbles. "For the last time, she looks like my grandmother."
"Have you tasted these gingersnaps?" Colin waves one in front of Bradley. "Here. Taste it."
Bradley takes a bite and makes a vaguely pornographic noise. "Oh god," he moans.
"She's recently widowed," Colin waggles his eyebrows. "I think you should take a swing at that while she's still emotionally needy."
"It's a wonder I put up with you," Bradley mutters but he leans in and presses a kiss against Colin's forehead. "Eat up. Don't want you wasting away again."
"I'm not - " Colin begins, but he's cut off by everyone in the catering tent going "aww" and clapping.
"What?" Bradley yells to everyone while Colin sinks into his seat and tries to look inconspicuous. "It was just his forehead."
And that's around when things start going downhill, because apparently a few displays of affection are code for "no, please take an active, nosy interest in our private relationship." Costume gives them an extensive, slightly profane list of all the things they're not supposed to do in their costumes. Colin blames this on Bradley, who is in a constant state of warfare, albeit fond warfare, with costumes, ever since he ruined a jacket during series one.
"But it wasn't like I was having sex in it!" He squawks indignantly. "If you're going to have me running around a forest hunting things and it gets muddy and torn at, that is not my fault."
"And the chainmail what, got rusty on its own?" Colin asks. "Had nothing to do with you being insanely competitive when it comes to ultimate frisbee? We have you on tape being warned, you know."
"I don't like you anymore," Bradley decides, and storms off to probably go whack something with his sword and get the props department mad at both of them, because now when Bradley does stupid things it's Colin's fault for not stopping him.
And Katie's not the only one inquiring after their sex life (which sparser than one would think, given filming schedule). Hair and makeup are particularly relentless, cornering them while they're applying dirt or blood and can't move, and then interrogating them completely inappropriately.
"Bradley was pining awfully the last two weeks," Jo chides Colin, like this is his fault, and Olivia chimes in, "We don't like to see that boy sad, you know. He's far too pretty to be sad."
"I, um," Colin squirms.
"Hold still," Jo says, and then when she's powdering his neck, "oh, look at that, he missed you quite a bit!" Colin feels kind of like he wants to die.
"That's from the sword yesterday!" He protests. "You know, the one that they were pinning me to a tree with?"
"Oh, don't lie to us," Olivia snorts, leaning over to do something at her work station that displays her breasts rather magnificently. "We know."
"I - he's - it was the sword, alright! The hilt gave me that, not Bradley!"
"Of course it did," Jo soothes.
"It's on tape," Colin insists. "You'd have one too if you kept having something whack you in the neck."
"Or have someone biting you," Olivia giggles. "Not that I blame him, Colin, your neck is lovely."
"Oh my god," Colin says faintly, and is just about to melt into the floor when, of course Bradley comes in.
"Hello, ladies," he says, nodding to Olivia and Jo, and hands Colin a waterbottle. For the first time ever, Colin wishes he'd forgotten to bring water, which he never forgets - Bradley seems to think that the best way to show affection is through keeping Colin constantly hydrated or caffeinated or fed. But it causes Olivia to break into more helpless giggling. "Did I miss something?"
"They think you gave me the hilt hickey," Colin says mournfully while Jo applies a cut to his cheek.
"But we didn't even have sex last night," Bradley looks bewildered, and if Colin didn't have a brush on his face he'd turn around and throw his water on Bradley to shut him up. "You were worn out from the being thrown against the tree."
"You had your way with him against a tree?" Olivia gasps, scandalized. "In full costume?"
"What? No!" Bradley yelps. "Olivia, I didn't, and I swear, if you tell costume..."
She does, of course, tell costume, which means Bradley and Colin get another embarrassing, awkward lecture, and they mutually decide to do rather less day-seizing and consequence-fucking. For the good of everyone's sanity, especially theirs.
- - -
As a general rule, Colin really likes his fans. They're either of the young and cute persuasion or the older, nerdy variety, and he can see, if his life had gone a little differently, how he could have been one of them. The things they send him are frankly weird, but he supposes that it's some sort of appeal to his off-beat sense of humor, and he at least appreciates their effort.
The thing is, they're bloody everywhere, gawking and taking pictures and smiling and waving. Sometimes all he wants is for them to go away, because then he wouldn't feel so self-conscious around Bradley. Is he watching him too closely? Smiling at him too long? When he pats him on the shoulder, is it too familiar? He starts actively looking forward to closed sets or forest shoots where he can just sit in his director's chair next to Bradley and fall asleep on his broad, very comfy shoulder if he damn well pleases, and nobody will bother him.
"You worry too much," says Jake, one of the stand-in knights in Arthur's crew. "If I wasn't told you and Bradley were dating, I'd never have guessed."
"What wouldn't Jake have guessed?" Bradley asks,coming up behind Colin and handing him some coffee and crisps.
"Us," Colin says shortly before taking a giant gulp, finally warming up a little. It's misty and cold in the forest, today and he forgot his giant coat since it's almost May and he isn't supposed to need it anymore. He'd been jumping up and down a lot like he had to pee very badly until Bradley had thrown a blanket at his face and yelled at him for making him forget his marks with his jiggling just off camera.
"Jake doesn't pick up on anything," Bradley snorts.
"It's true," Jake admits. "My sister-in-law was pregnant for five months, but I just thought she was packing on the weight."
"Jake has been hit in the head too many times," Bradley says, whapping Jake with his prop sword. "Haven't you, Jake?"
"Don't go making it worse," Colin grabs Bradley's wrist. "You'll give him some real damage and he's probably very expensive to replace."
"Jake!" a PA calls. "We need you to stop getting hit with Bradley's sword for a second and come over here!"
"Now look what you've done," Colin scolds when Jake trots off. "Really well done, Bradley."
"Remember who gets you coffee," Bradley says, giving Colin a quick kiss that misses his cheek and ends up somewhere near his ear. "Come on, they don't need us for a bit. I'll play Mario Kart with you. Winner gets their choice of sexual favors."
Yes, Colin thinks, things are much more enjoyable when the fans aren't watching.
- - -
Mario Kart is declared a draw, since Colin and Bradley are called back on set before they can even finish the race. "What would you have asked for?" Colin asks Bradley during halftime of some French football match in their bed back at the hotel, and Bradley's only half paying attention. "I mean, if you'd won at Mario Kart?"
"Didn't really think about it," Bradley says. "That's how you lose your concentration."
"I guess," Colin says, watching an incomprehensible razor commercial in French. He thinks he gets the gist, though, but it's hard to tell if that's because he's getting better at French or because when a woman's caressing a man's face, the message comes across loud and clear. He sighs and drops his head on Bradley's shoulder, just resting his eyes until the next half comes on. Bradley makes a rumbling sort of chuckle and throws his arm around Colin, reaching up to ruffle his hair.
"Why?" he asks. "You have something in mind?"
"Not really," Colin says. "Not a sexual favor, anyways."
"What, then?"
"I wanted to go out," Colin mutters, glad his eyes are already closed so he doesn't have to see Bradley's face. "Not like we do here, like we did in Cardiff or London." When we could act like we were together is the unspoken sentiment that lingers in the air. Bradley sighs.
"We still could," he offers quietly, just enough to be heard over the commercials. "I'd take you out."
"We can't," Colin says. "It's a tiny town, full of tourists and fans. Everyone knows us. We'd be outing ourselves."
They're quiet a moment before Bradley says, in a small voice, "I'd still do it. You're worth it."
Colin pulls away and opens his eyes to better see Bradley's expression. He looks a little petrified, but defiant. His chin's tilted stubbornly upward, but his mouth isn't set, instead it's sort of pouting indecisively. He looks beautiful and it breaks Colin's heart. "It's not a question of worth it," Colin says quietly. "Because you are, if anyone's worth it. I kind of love you, you know."
Bradley sighs and bends his head to kiss Colin's fingers that are resting tentatively against his lower lip. "I do know," he says quietly. "Believe me, I know."
"I just don't want all that," Colin repeats his standby argument, a little desperate. "I can't handle that and filming and everything else."
"I'm not saying I can," Bradley says. "I'm just saying I wish it were different, though."
"Yeah," Colin agrees. They watch each other sadly until the commercials end, and Colin settles back down to rest on Bradley's shoulder. He's tired enough to sleep, but he can't. He isn't sure Bradley's paying much attention to the match either.
- - -
"We're not going to Paris," Colin notes when he wakes up enough to look at the French signs on the edge of the road and really take in his surroundings. Bradley had dragged him out of bed at an ungodly hour without coffee and insisted they get an early start for their four day mini-vacation away. Since "away" usually meant "Paris", Colin had assumed that was where they were going, but unless Bradley's desperately lost, that's certainly not the case.
"Thank you, Colin, for joining us once again in the land of the living," Bradley says calmly from the driver's seat.
"I thought we were going to Paris and would catch up with all the crew," Colin says, bewildered. "I thought everyone was meeting up on Sunday for drinks."
"They still are, but we will be in Laon."
"Laon?" Colin repeats. "Where the bloody fuck is Laon?"
"North-ish," Bradley shrugs. "Cute little town. Loads of nice architecture. Quiet. Private."
"Oh," Colin says quietly, shocked into near-silence. It's - it's all - it's overwhelmingly enormous and romantic and unexpected and exactly something Bradley would do and not what he was expecting to wake up to this morning.
"Is that okay?" Colin can't see Bradley's eyes behind his huge, stupid aviators, but he would guess they're crinkled with concern.
"It's amazing," Colin assures him. "Just, just unexpected. I'm... it's very early in the morning to take this all in."
"But you're happy?" Bradley keeps glancing from him, to the road, to him again. "This sounded like the sort of thing you wanted, but we're not too far, I can turn around."
"It's exactly what I wanted," Colin smiles. "I also don't want to die. Watch the road."
"Thank you, Colin. I'm so glad I brought you along for driving tips."
"Oh," Colin lets his grin turn this side of dirty, even though it's enough to make Bradley stop watching the road for longer than is strictly safe. "I don't think that's what you brought me along for at all."
- - -
Laon is exactly as Bradley described it - cute, quaint, lovely, little, and so very quiet. All the houses are like something out of a painting or postcard, and above them all rises the massive cathedral, which they spend an entire day exploring. The architecture there is amazing, Gothic and intricate with sweeping staircases, huge stained glass windows, and frighteningly detailed wall scones.
"This could be location scouting," Bradley says, filming in grand sweeps the inside of the cathedral and zooms in on a carved something-or-other sticking its tongue out from a wall scone.
"For what, the episode where Morgana runs away to join a nunnery?" Colin asks.
"Shut up, Colin," Bradley tells him.
They take the fancy new tram all over town - to tiny book stores and patisseries that serve decadent creations drenched in chocolate and cream. They have late lunches at little creperies and cafes and spend all morning doing the crossword with their feet jumbled together and kiss on street corners and no one seems to notice. Bradley even somehow managed to choose a bed and breakfast with thick walls so when they fuck Colin gets to be as loud as he likes without worrying that Katie or Anthony is going to pound on the walls and yell at them to keep it down.
On the last afternoon they wander aimlessly through the surrounding countryside, which is really an excuse to pack a knapsack full of food and be as loud and ridiculous as they want to without some bewildered French person staring at them and wondering what, exactly, is wrong with the two British boys with the camcorder, and looking mildly relieved whenever they go.
"This was a good vacation," Colin says, interrupting a long stretch of quiet staring at the sunset while Bradley is munching on some crusty baguette.
"Mmm," Bradley swallows. "It was."
"Better than Paris," Colin says softly. "Just what I wanted."
"Yeah?" Bradley looks painfully earnest and downright shy, like Colin's given him a gift and he thinks Colin's about to snatch it away. It makes Colin's heart ache from the sudden rush of adoration.
"Yeah," Colin affirms, covering Bradley's hand with his own. "I loved it."
Bradley smiles, gentle and private, the way he does on the rare moments he's peaceful - just the corners of his mouth curl upwards lazily, and his hand flips over to grab on to Colin's. He leans forward and whispers "me too" against Colin's lips like it's some sort of secret, just theirs to keep.
- - -
"Bradley!" Colin calls, letting himself in Bradley's room even though the shower's running. "My mum wants the videos you took in Laon of the cathedral."
"Why the hell does she want that?" Bradley shouts back. "Weren't your pictures enough?"
"They came out blurry in the low light, I didn't see until I got them on a big screen."
"Fine, they're on my computer, which is on the table near -"
"Got it." Colin finds Bradley's laptop under today's script, a pair of smelly socks, and a half-finished bottle of water, and is pleasantly surprised to see, when he boots it up, that there's already a video editing window open with the file name "laon" with a collection of clips Bradley was stringing together. Curiously, he clicks through some of it. It's mostly what he expected - them laughing and goofing around, the video of him singing along to the radio while he's driving, Colin dueling with Bradley off-screen with his fork, both of them in the cathedral - that goes in the thumb drive he brought over. He watches the rest, which is mostly them being ridiculous and annoying in small shops, and then the movie abruptly cuts to their hotel room. Instantly, Colin's tense, because he's got a pretty strict rule about that - he's never becomming the Irish Paris Hilton, even by accident.
"Hello, Merlin fans," Bradley says quietly on the screen. His eyes are puffy and his hair is standing on end, which means this was probably filmed early in the morning. "I'm in Laon with Colin, and he won't wake up. Will you, Colin?" The camera sweeps down to Bradley's lap, and then Colin, asleep next to what's obviously Bradley's naked hip.
"He's very lucky he's adorable when he sleeps," Bradley's voice says, which is strange, because Colin was just thinking about how boring he looks, pale and with one hand curled protectively in front of his mouth. Everyone he's ever heard on this subject seems to think that watching someone sleep is like seeing a whole new side of them, but he's found it's mostly like seeing someone with their eyes closed. It's boring and stupid and the whole watching someone do it thing seems a little creepy to him.
"Fun fact about Colin," Bradley's voice goes on. "He can sleep through bloody anything, which is why I can safely record this. In fact, he's got three alarms he sets to make it to call every morning. The only problem is, he sleeps through all of them and then they end up waking everyone trying to have a lie-in. Isn't that right, Colin?" Colin seems to register that someone's said his name on-screen, because he shifts and makes an indistinct noise. The camera jiggles and then pulls back as Bradley's profile comes in front of it, where he leans down and kisses Colin's upturned mouth gently, which makes on-screen Colin grunt and then sigh. On-screen Bradley laughs and pulls away.
"Now," Bradley whispers, "the best way to wake Colin up is to do a lot more of that, but I won't record that or he'll get mad at me. Anyways, we're in Laon, like I said -"
"Bradley stoppit." Colin on-screen grumbles, shifting in the background to bury his face in the pillow.
"Right," Bradley on-screen says, and clicks off the recording, and the screen goes to black.
"I can delete that," Bradley - real Bradley- toweled off and in a clean t-shirt and boxers says quietly, leaning in bathroom doorframe. His face is carefully impassive. Colin had been so absorbed in the videos he hadn't even noticed the shower had stopped. "Sorry. I know you don't want any videos of us like that."
"Bradley - " Colin begins gently.
"I just wanted one," Bradley's voice is so quiet Colin can barely hear it. "Just one."
Colin shuts his mouth abruptly, watching Bradley's perfectly-neutral face as he takes the smelly socks on his table away and puts them in is laundry bag. "Don't delete it," he says finally. Bradley looks up at him like he's gone mad.
"And if my computer gets stolen?" He asks.
"It won't get stolen."
"If it does, Colin."
"Then we'll tell everyone sooner than expected, I guess." Colin shrugs as if this is no big deal, even though his heart feels like it's trying to beat out of his chest.
"I didn't know you expected to tell people." Bradley sits next to Colin on the bed, but carefully keeps some distance between them. Colin isn't having any of it, and moves so their sides are touching.
"When all of this is done," he says quietly. "When we've got other jobs - or don't, if we don't want them. But when we aren't Merlin and Arthur anymore, just, just Colin and Bradley. Then I thought, maybe, I mean..."
"Really?" Bradley asks, voice cracking. "I mean, that's a long time, Colin."
"Yes." Colin doesn't even think about it. It isn't even a question to him. "I'm sure." He pauses. "Idiot."
Bradley chuckles and rests his forehead on Colin's shoulder, wet hair soaking through his t-shirt, and Colin doesn't even care, just buries his nose in the dampness and breathes. "You should send your mum those videos," Bradley says finally.
"I'm where I want to be right now," Colin murmurs into Bradley's hair. "Everyone else is just going to have to wait."
- - -
If Colin's mother is right about one thing, it's that he likes the impossible. He likes fantasy and what can never be, which explains a lot about the choices he makes regarding his love life. He hates the idea of getting too comfortable or being too settled. He wants his life to always be a bit of a magical adventure, and yes, sometimes he wants it to be difficult, because the alternative is life being too easy and, god forbid, boring.
Colin never has to worry his life is going to get too easy with Bradley around, which is one of the reasons he loves him so. Even without the coming out versus not coming out question, Bradley is difficult. He's loud, he's reckless, and he doesn't know when to leave well enough alone or what the word "no" means. Colin will probably never get him to clean up his dirty socks or put down his camcorder or shut up for longer than fifteen minutes unless he's asleep, like he is right now, in Colin's hotel room, with his dirty trainers on the clean duvet cover.
"You're disgusting," Colin says to the silent room. "Why are your trainers on the bed?"
"Grmph," Bradley says into the pillows, and tries to kick them off, which just makes more mud go flying.
"Enough," Colin walks over and pulls them off, and then holds his breath while he peels Bradley's socks off and flings them in the dirty laundry bag. "Your socks are horrible," he tells Bradley.
"Mmmkay," Bradley sighs.
"I have no idea why I put up with you," Colin tells him, sitting on the foot of the bed and taking his shoes, socks, and jeans off like a normal person does before they lie down.
"Because I'm cute," Bradley suggests, throwing an arm over Colin when he curls up beside him. "And good at sex."
"Okay," Colin says indulgently, pushing the fringe out of Bradley's eyes. "Let's go with that."