It started like this:
He could feel Bradley's hand – fingertips really – running up and down the length of his spine, skating over the curve of his arse and just flirting with his crack. Up and down and up and down as they kissed and kissed until all Colin knew was the touch of Bradley's skin on his and the taste of Bradley's mouth on his tongue. His whole body was alight with want, a constant rush through his ears that pounded out moremoremoremore until it was all he could hear. He tried shifting forward, tried to force the more into being but Bradley stopped that.
Every shift of Colin's hips in his direction was cause to end his soft touch on Colin's skin. Every attempt at Colin to push himself into Bradley's hands was met by a tut clicked out on his tongue. Bradley's mouth would disappear from Colin's own to kissniplick its way over Colin's jaw, his neck and his collarbones that Bradley apparently couldn't get enough of (if how wet and bruised his skin was there from all Bradley's attention was anything to go by.)
But this was Bradley's show. Bradley had taken control from the beginning and who was Colin to be all demanding when he knew from prior experience that the wait for Bradley's next move was always, always worth it. So Colin stilled and kept kissing Bradley until long after his lips and jaw were sore from the repetitive movement, long after his tongue was almost numb from shifting and turning and taking from Bradley's mouth. He kept still, as hard as it was, as Bradley explored the heated flesh of Colin's back and teased just under the band of Colin's dark blue briefs.
His cock was so hard, so in need of a touch of any sort that it only took the slight shift of Bradley – when the man breathed out for heaven's sake! – for his prick to twitch, the tip wetting the soft cotton with precome until all Colin knew was how sticky, wet and aching he was. If Bradley noticed, he never said a word but Colin could feel how hard Bradley was against him, the man's own length grinding up and over Colin's hip bone with every shift of Bradley's hips.
Apparently, it was okay for Bradley James to twist and move and relieve some of his own perfect pain but not the man he was with. Colin thought he should care, tinkered with the idea of taking the situation into his own hands and rolling Bradley over before fucking himself raw on Bradley's impressive cock. Or even pressing Bradley back into the bed and sliding down his body to suck his prick from tip to root – but he didn't. Couldn't.
He wouldn't disappoint Bradley like that.
Not that Bradley wouldn't enjoy either of those things; Colin was sure of it from all the filthy talk Bradley whispered in his ear while they were waiting onset for the next scene to be set or when they were in the buses heading out to some location. No, Colin knew Bradley wanted more than the epic snog sessions they were currently locked into. Colin knew of the almost blinding sensation that coming from just kissing and what the lightest friction alone could create.
Kissing. Bradley James could have Colin coming in his pants like some sad, pathetic little teenager purely from kissing alone.
Colin leaned into the tiny amount of space between them, his lips chapped and almost raw from the kissing, but with every small pause between them, Bradley's tongue would poke out, sweep across his own lips and then Colin's. It was probably the strangest way Colin's lips had ever been looked after but fuck if it didn't turn him on all the more. He groaned when Bradley's tongue found his in a new and tantalising twist. He gripped Bradley's hair at the nape of his neck that much harder when Bradley's mouth would open and let him in, stretching their lips to obscene levels. He shuddered every time Bradley's thick middle finger would drift down below his pants, flicking over the curve of his arse crack. It only made Colin want that finger to travel lower and lower still until it was inside, something was inside because he was craving anything at all that wasn't his own fingers on nights when Bradley was shooting and he was not.
But this was Bradley's game, and Colin was happy to be along for the ride. Because if coming from excessive lips-on-lips action was only the beginning? Then Colin was most definitely in for the long run.
He shifted back into Bradley's hand, warm on Colin's already flushed skin. Bradley chased Colin's lips as Colin pulled back just a minute distance to catch his breath. To breathe something that wasn't Bradley. To maybe clear his head and say the words he'd been wanting to say to Bradley ever since the first night they'd wound up in bed together paying no attention to the horrid French movie onscreen, their attention more focused on how close their hands were on the duvet and how incredibly loud their breathing was. He wanted to ask for more, to ask what exactly it was they were doing that had for the past four weeks gone unspoken, but he didn't want to break whatever spell they were under from this, this. Colin didn't shift away, but back into Bradley's embrace and swallowed Bradley's hum of contentment and choked on his own groan when Bradley's fingers pressed into his arse cheek, bringing them close for the minute that it took Colin to come so hard he may have actually passed out.
He did, however, manage to notice the way Bradley pulled him close, his breath cool on Colin's overheated skin as he whispered words that Colin could only guess at, like a brand into Colin's neck.
Then it was like this:
Bradley was touching him again.
Petting him really. All these slow, soft strokes tracing random patterns over the base of Colin's spine. They were curled up together on Colin's bed (not unusual) tongues telling secrets that mouths couldn't form (also not unusual) and Bradley was just touching Colin.
That same bloody soft press of skin on skin that left Colin aching until he wasn't any more. But it wasn't exactly what Colin wanted. It was fine, it was amazing and coming just from kissing and kissing and kissing was something Colin had never known with any of his other lovers, but he wanted more. He wanted a hand on his cock, thumb sweeping over the tip, collecting precome sticky and sweet only to shove it into Colin's mouth and beg him to suck until the flavour was merely a flesh memory. He wanted and he wanted Bradley to want too.
Because at that point it was hard to ascertain whether Bradley even did.
It was a thought that had troubled Colin for the past two weeks, now over two months into this – whatever it was that was between them, for which Colin didn't even have a name. Was Bradley his boyfriend? His mate with benefits? His regular fuck (which didn't make any sense because to be someone's regular fuck you'd have to be actually fucking them first).
So Colin pined about wanting and Bradley snogged him like it was a bloody Olympic event and Colin never complained. Being like this, this closeness he had with Bradley that had shifted from awkward understanding into the realm of "bromance" and then . . . well, then he wasn't entirely sure but it was more than just friends with benefits. It had to be. Colin wouldn't feel tightness in his chest and an urge to smile and touch and be around Bradley if it wasn't. It had to mean more and if he knew it, Bradley would know it. But if he didn't know it, and if he didn't mean it then . . . well, that wasn't exactly a truth Colin was ready to face yet. Not with Bradley and his magic mouth and hands that teased. Colin needed it. Needed these moments between them after hard days on set. Needed the warmth of Bradley's arms when he missed home. Needed to feel wanted – whether it was in his head or not – by someone who was close.
"God, you're fit," Bradley whispered, and Colin nearly jumped from the sound, having been so swept away by Bradley's hand under his pants, cupping his arse cheek that he hadn't even noticed Bradley's mouth leaving his own.
"Can't keep my hands off you, you know?" Bradley said against the side of his neck, his teeth scraping over the tendon that was in sharp relief as Colin stretched his neck back, wanting to feel Bradley everywhere. "Your neck, your shoulder, these bloody ribs, and your hip bones that could near shear my hand off if I press them too hard."
Colin gasped as Bradley's tongue flicked over one of his nipples while Bradley tweaked the other between his forefinger and thumb. "Your whole body – it's so lean and compact, don't think I could find an inch of fat on you." Bradley's breath stuttered out in a jumpy rush across Colin's chest, his kiss moistened skin pebbling, tightening his entire body in one heated rush. "Wanna, fuck, Cols, wanna see if you're that tight everywhere."
Instead of the moan of want that Colin felt, it was more of a scoffing grunt because, well this was Bradley and as long as this had been going on, Bradley had been all talk. Kissing, yes. Fondling, oh yes. Fucking of fingers or more anywhere near Colin's arse? Sadly, only in the form of Colin's few toys he'd bought on a trip to Paris with Katie that he'd managed on a rare down day or his own fingers – which, albeit they were a tiny bit longer that Bradley's, were nowhere near as thick. Christ, how Colin craved them.
Bradley's hands found Colin's, somehow shifting them from lying on their sides to Colin flat on his back, arms stretched over his head as Bradley twined those same thick digits between Colin's, trapping him against the bed. Bradley didn't say anything, his crotch pressed against Colin's stomach, as he took Colin in his brow quirked up in question.
Colin's fingers twitched to reach up and brush the strands of hair that had fallen across Bradley's face, to press the pad of his finger over that same high brow and have it drop back own to normal. Bradley must have felt the twinge of movement, but simply squeezed their hands together more. Colin's hips thrust up, his own cock, which had been hard since Bradley sneakily pinched his arse in line for lunch earlier, grazing Bradley's backside.
"You, you're all talk, James," Colin said after licking his lips a few times and swallowing a few more in an attempt to get his mouth to work around the words he wanted to say. As much as he loved the slow and steady that Bradley seemed keen to keep them on, it was time for something more. And if goading Bradley into it was the only way to have Colin's cravings met, then so be it. Thank goodness Bradley was the annoyingly competitive type.
Bradley leaned in, his chest a layer of heat above Colin's own as his lips stopped just short of pressing against Colin's. "Challenge accepted."
His blue, blue eyes twinkled mischievously and as he kissed Colin so long and so hard his chest ached for a breath, Colin knew he was well and truly fucked.
And if he was lucky, it would be exactly that.
And finally, like this:
"Please, oh, please," Colin begged for maybe the twentieth time that afternoon but still, still Bradley ignored his pleas. Ignored or enjoyed, Colin had no idea which way was up after being in this position for so long. Hands bound above his head, Bradley's belt strung through the bedframe securing him there, his face alternating between face down and biting into the pillow in front of him. Or, on his side, panting streams of words that were mostly along the lines of: "Fuck, please Bradley, please, oh sweet jesus, please!" and then, "Stop, stop, I can't, oh gods yes, just like that. . ." and even that one time, "oh fucking fuck will you fucking fuck me already, you fucking fucker!"
Never let it be said that Colin was a man with a limited vocabulary.
He rolled his shoulders as best he could, shifting his knees forward slightly to ease the ache in his thighs from being locked in this position for so long. His whole body was a heady mix of pain and pleasure. Pleasure from all that Bradley's fingers and tongue were doing in his arse, and pain from the same thing, being denied an orgasm he should have had twenty minutes into this at the very least, not the near hour it had become. Apparently Bradley had either been hiding his natural talent for eating arse under the guise of "not quite sure I'm entirely gay but maybe I'm just into you, Cols," or he'd been lying about the whole bisexual thing and was actually quite a learned bum-boy.
Colin could feel Bradley, his breath cool on Colin's overheated flesh. His arse was so ruddy tender, what with Bradley now having three fingers inside, dragging perfectly over his prostate every time, and his tongue sliding around Colin's rim then twisting in and around his fingers until all Colin knew was push and pull and twist. Colin was shaking, his cock so hard it was near painful as precome jerked out of the tip, sometimes with force and others just spurting, dribbling down his length and forming sticky webs from his cock to the bedding below. What he wouldn't give for a tenth of Bradley's attention shifting from his arse to his cock but what with Bradley slipping a cock ring on Colin after nearly shooting his load down Bradley's throat when they'd started this, there wasn't much hope of a quick end in Colin's sights.
Why oh why had he had to nearly challenge Bradley to do more than just kiss?
At least with the kissing thing he'd bloody gotten off.
"Do you want me to stop?" Bradley's teeth pressed lightly into the curve of Colin's arse, not hard enough to hurt but certain to leave imprints all the same. "You're just so tight, so fucking clingy and hot on my fingers. Wanna fuck you with my tongue, use it like a little dick and fuck you with it till you come."
Colin shuddered, his hips shifting forward and his poor prick pumping the smallest dribble of precome, he could feel it bubble at the slit and not do much more. He'd have the world's emptiest pair of bollocks after all of this!
Bradley's lips pressed soft and sweet across Colin's arse, pausing to kiss in lazy patterns across the dip between where his arse and spine collided and then up some more. His fingers were still knuckle deep inside Colin, not moving, just ruddy there, all thick and long and gripped by Colin's body.
"Do you want that, Cols? Do you want me to fuck you with my tongue? Want me to prise you open so you're not tight any more? Gonna lick you from the inside out till you beg me to let you come."
Colin whined, a pitiful sound that was more a breath released through clenched teeth than anything else. Bradley's fingers shifted slightly, curving in and rubbing with just enough pressure to remind Colin that he was there.
As if Colin could forget.
"Tell me, Colin," Bradley taunted, his voice all too clear and dark and needy whispered over the topmost knob of Colin's spine as the heated evidence of Bradley's own excitement pressed against Colin's thigh. "Tell me, do you want to fuck my face like that? Do you wanna fuck yourself on my tongue, my nose maybe? You do, don't you, you dirty bugger?" He teased and Colin's breath hitched, almost a sob, because yes, yes he did want to do all of those things. He wanted to know what it would feel like to have just Bradley's tongue inside him, thrusting and stroking the hot inner walls of his arse. What it would feel like to have Bradley thrust his nose, his fucking nose, inside Colin's hole, then have his tongue slip back in just as Colin came, his arse clenching around the tiny muscle that had driven him to the brink of sexual insanity all afternoon.
In a way Colin was happy they'd waited until series three was done to come home and do this. There was no need to rush, no early wake-up calls or interviews to be looking particularly fetching for. No, there was himself, and Bradley and Bradley's flat with the thick walls and the bed with rungs perfectly spaced to tie Colin to.
Tie him up and tease him nearly to the point of no control – pretty much where he was right at that minute.
"Please," Colin whimpered, his voice so soft, no louder than a whisper because it was all he could get out, his throat raw from begging and pleading – but apparently Bradley wanted more.
He really was far too much like his character in that respect.
Bradley's free hand was a soothing warmth over his back and his ribs, and then stilled on his hip the moment Colin uttered the word. "What was that?"
Colin licked his lips, twisted his head to the side and wished he hadn't lain on that particular side of the pillow earlier because there was a rather large wet drool patch from where he'd left his mouth open just attempting to breathe earlier. He blinked, his eyes feeling sticky, prickling from the influx of light after having them closed ever since Bradley had mentioned wanting to fuck him with his tongue. There was only so much of that a man could imagine with eyes open, and Colin wanted to imagine it all – well, imagine before it became reality.
"Please," he tried again, the word coming out a little more raspy than he'd intended, but he had shouted himself nearly hoarse when they'd arrived at the flat, Bradley sucking him down to the root the moment they'd bloody shut the door. He'd barely had time to put his bag down before Bradley had him shoved up against the wall, the back of Colin's head nearly colliding with the coat rack that was stuck at a slightly inconvenient height for wall-sex activities. Something they'd have to rectify tomorrow. Or the next day. Or the next.
Colin wasn't planning on leaving Bradley's flat for a long while yet.
(If Bradley had his way, which he probably would, Colin would never be leaving it, show or no show.)
"Please, Bradley. I want to come. I want to come so much, just do –" He stopped to moan again as Bradley slipped his tongue between where he'd used both of his thumbs to prise Colin's arse cheeks apart. The cool air of the room was almost too sensitive over his flesh, but only for a second as Bradley's mouth was back and whatever he was saying – asking for ruddy clarification on what Colin meant, no doubt – was a welcoming warmth.
"Oh Christ, will you just – come on, Bradley. Just fucking fuck me."
If he was a betting man – which he was for the right event on the odd occasion – then he most likely would have put it all down on Bradley only giving in when Bradley wanted to. Not when Colin begged, soft or loud or hoarse. But this was different. This wasn't just a bet on who'd fluff their lines the most or who could annoy Katie and Angel to the point of an ear-splitting harrumph and flounce to their trailer. This wasn't even a bet as to who would have to pick Eoin up off the floor of the bar once he drank himself under the table trying to outdo his record from the night before.
No, this was about them, about what Bradley loved to do with Colin and how Colin loved everything Bradley did to him.
"You only had to ask, Cols," Bradley said with a chuckle. Then Colin was a series of open-mouthed "ohs" as Bradley's fingers and tongue pushed him again to the edge and nearly sent him over. True to his word, Bradley used the tip of his tongue as a little cock, pumping inside Colin's body over and over and over again, twisting and turning and sliding just right. That combined with his stupidly long fingers circling Colin's balls and softly rolling then tugging his sack down low – it was no wonder Colin became a blubbering mess. His head thrashed this way and that, back bending and flexing in time with how he pushed his arse against Bradley's face, grinding down and forcing Bradley's nose to slide over his puckered skin, wet from saliva and the lube Bradley had licked off from when he'd put a few drops there in the beginning.
"You're fucking needy for it, aren't you? Want me here, don't you – don't you, Cols?" Bradley asked, his fingers fucking Colin in earnest. All Colin could do was ride them back and forth, hoping he could establish enough of a rhythm to have his prick shift up enough to press against his stomach or bob low enough to reach the bed. Friction of any sort would have been fucking divine about now.
He muttered something along the lines of a Hail Mary or a prayer because he couldn't beg any more, couldn't say please a second longer, the need to get off and get off now growing stronger and stronger. "You want it, don't you? Want to come? I bet you're red raw under here." Bradley's free palm squeezed over the sharp rise of Colin's hip. "Bet you're fucking flushed and wet. Bet the little head is peeking out of your foreskin now, isn't it? Wouldn't have to even stretch your skin too much, you're that fucking desperate, aren't you?"
Colin whimpered some more; his fucking arms were killing him, stretched out above his head where he was using his biceps to block the rest of Bradley's words, pressing them against the sides of his head. He loved being like this, giving himself entirely over to Bradley's will. At first it was because Bradley had stated he wanted "go slow" as their relationship developed from friend to lover, so it wouldn't be about "just the sex" and then there had been no sex – but everything Bradley and he had explored was so good, so good that Colin found he didn't care much at all. Until he was so sexually frustrated that he did. So now it was whatever Bradley wanted, as long as Bradley wanted to take to give it to Col because he'd made everything they did worth the wait so far. Even this.
It took Colin a second to realise that Bradley's fingers had disappeared when he finally stilled, that there was a loosening at his wrists, and then without knowing how it happened he was on his back, legs pushed up and over Bradley's shoulders as the man pressed his lips, body, cock against Colin. Their kiss was messy, open-mouthed and tongues delivering far too much saliva as Bradley rutted in the space between them. Colin felt tears building under his lashes. The sounds leaving Bradley's mouth were getting closer and closer to what Colin knew meant it would be mere seconds before the man would come, and it literally hurt to hear Bradley so close when Colin himself had been in that state for longer than he cared to remember.
"So good, you've been so good," Bradley said, face reddened and flushed as he shifted back on his knees, hands trailing over Colin's shoulders and down his chest. Colin's body was so on edge, so wound up he didn't think it would take much at all to set him off. Well, not much as long as Bradley got him out of the bloody cock ring he'd stupidly agreed to when Bradley had said, "I just want to try something." Colin should have known from all their pranks and stupidity over the years that that sentence would never lead to great things. Then again, as Bradley's hand visibly shook as he sat up further, cock in hand with sweat dripping from his brow and sticking his dark blonde hair to his forehead, maybe the good would outweigh the bad of being made to wait like this.
"Gonna fucking come all over you, and you're gonna come like that, Col. You're gonna come from the touch of my jizz on your skin, yeah?" and Colin nodded, because fuck yes, it didn't sound plausible but he was so hard and he'd pretty much leaked every ounce of precome his body could possibly store and he just needed to come so badly.
"Bradley," Colin whimpered, his eyes rolling back into his head as Bradley removed the cock ring as quickly and carefully as possible, what with the state Colin was in. If Colin had had the energy he would have taken that moment of Bradley's lost reserve to pull himself off; but as it was, his arms refused to shift from where they'd fallen onto the bed after Bradley released them.
"Ahh, fuck yeah." Bradley's voice and the sound of skin slapping over skin brought Colin's attention back to the real world and events ongoing. Maybe Bradley was wrong about Colin coming from his release alone, because watching a completely out-of-it Bradley James wrap his hand around his own cock and fucking near squeeze his orgasm up and out of himself was almost too much for Colin to bear. "Gonna come on your pretty cock and then you're gonna come for me – come on, Cols. Fucking do it." Then he grunted and it seemed like the whole world stopped and his come fell in ropes over Colin's stomach, thighs, and cock. Bradley's eyes opened just as Colin felt the last of his control snapping and his hips arched as best they could as he came with a silent scream once Bradley's first thick white lines fell across the head of Colin's own prick.
It felt as if he'd never stop coming, his hips thrusting upwards, eyes closed and his whole body bursting with pleasure right down to the very last molecule.
Colin shuddered, a breath almost like a sob in reverse sucked into his lungs as his cock attempted one last hurrah before Bradley lay down beside him, one arm heavy across Colin's chest and most definitely covered in a mix of fluids that was a combination of the very best orgasms Colin had ever had. After a while he felt Bradley's fingers shift through the mess, circling his nipples then dipping down to his belly button and up again. Colin liked to imagine that Bradley was writing something just for them there, some secret sex story that would stay in Colin's skin long after they'd showered all this mess off.
Bradley's lips were soft on his and Bradley's come-covered fingers eventually stilled on Colin's chin as Colin turned his face to meet Bradley's. Simple brushes of skin on skin as they caught their breath felt more intimate than anything else they'd done that night, or in the near year since they'd moved from friendship to flirting to more between them. It made that special Bradley-place inside Colin's chest grow and take over more of his relationship real estate, and he found he didn't care a fig. Let Bradley buy it all up if it meant kisses like this for the rest of his life.
Though one step at a time.
(Even if Bradley had given him a set of keys to the flat when they'd boarded the Eurostar earlier. "I want you with me always, Cols," as if using the shortened version of Colin's name would take away from the fact that he'd kind of skipped officially asking Colin to move in with him.)
"I think next time I'll let you ride my cock," Bradley whispered against the side of Colin's cheek, right into the soft hairs that curled around his ears.
"Think of this as foreplay, Morgan. We've only just begun."