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"I am making an absolute prat of myself," Taron said - perhaps somewhat dramatically - into the phone.

His mate Ben laughed. "You make a prat of yourself every day, mate, not gonna be any different just 'cause you're doing a global press tour as a fancy film star."

"Thank you, and fuck you," said Taron, then shook his head. "And that's not what I mean. Well, it is, I'm sure I am making a prat of myself in my standard Taron way, but I mean, specifically, about Colin."

"Oh, god," groaned Ben, with the long-suffering air of someone who's heard far too much about this already. "Did you give in and hump him already?"

"Not yet," said Taron, "but I think I'm bloody close to it. It's like - I feel like I'm honestly, literally twelve again with my first crush when I look at him. I'm laughing and simpering and, like, fetching him stuff. It's honestly embarrassing. I don't know how he's still putting up with me."

"Does he know?"

Taron laughed. "Well, I mean, probably, given the way I can't seem to control my face. But also, I dunno. I think I might be getting away with it. Most of the world has a crush on him and acts like a bit of a lovestruck idiot around him so it may not really seem very out of the ordinary. Maybe he assumes it's normal human behaviour to stare at people until your eyes nearly fall out and only hear about half of what interviewers are saying to you because you're distracted by your insanely gorgeous coworker."

Ben laughed. "Oh, mate, you got it bad. I get he's handsome, but he's like - twice your age."

"I don't - look. I don't care even a tiny bit. I'm a fucking mess. Middle of an interview, he looks over at me, smiles, like, in this way he has? And my mouth literally fucking waters with how much I want to get on my knees for him right there. Middle of a fucking interview, mate, and I almost don't care."

"Fuckin' - please, I really don't want to hear that," said Ben on a groan. "Look, either do something about it or get over it, mate, you'll drive yourself crazy."

"I can't, he's bloody married!"


"So, shut up, I'm not gonna do anything. I'll just - pine and wank and maybe, one day, get over it."

"Please do," said Ben fervently. "Don't go wasting your prime as a big-time movie star pining over some married granddad."

"He's not a--! Shut up, whatever. I am still enjoying being a movie star."

"Better be. See you whenever you grace our shores again?"


"Try to have shagged him by then."

"Fuck off. Love ya, mate."

There was a knock on the door the moment he tapped his phone to hang up, and Taron's heart gave a wobbly little jolt. He hadn't been talking too loudly, had he? Anyway, all hotels these days were super soundproof, and it was probably just his dry-cleaning, anyway. Crazy that he had people delivering dry cleaning to his hotel room in foreign countries, in the middle of an international press tour, and it was something he'd never get used to, but as long as it wasn't--

He put his eye to the peephole anyway, and swallowed a groan. Of course it was Colin.

"Hi!" he said, falsely bright as he opened the door. "You're early; thought dinner wasn't until seven?"

Colin shrugged. "Was getting bloody bored in my hotel room, thought we could have a drink before it's time to head down. Unless you're busy?"

"No, nope, nope," said Taron, shaking his head too enthusiastically. "Free as the figurative bird, me."

"Great," said Colin, clapped his hands together briskly and headed to the mini bar.

He was in a lovely dark blue suit, and really, after filming Kingsman, you would have thought Taron would be inured to Colin in a nice suit by now, but apparently not. Apparently, it still had the power to make his heart leap excitably in his chest and his face go hot, especially when Colin leaned down a little bit to pluck two bottles of beer out of the fridge and dangle them in his long fingers, the lines of the suit accentuating him from shoulders down to trim narrow waist.

Colin turned and smirked at him, handing him a beer. Taron took it, smiled widely and said "Cheers!" like an absolute dolt, toasting Colin pointlessly with his still-capped bottle.

Colin humoured him by clinking his bottle against Taron's before getting out the bottle opener, opening the drawers in Taron's room as casually as if it were his own.

"Funny thing about these hotels," said Colin conversationally as he popped the cap off his bottle, then gestured for Taron to hand his over, "they spend so much time, money and effort in making them nice and soundproof between walls, just so people can feel secure in their secrets and trysts and loud sex and other fun things I suppose normal people, those not on ever-ending press tours, use them for."

Taron nodded slowly, trying not to blush at Colin talking about loud sex.

"But - and here's the thing - they always seem to neglect the soundproofing between the room and the hallway. Did you know, in places like this, you can hear almost every word of a conversation inside a room if you're outside a door, without really even meaning to."

Taron felt his stomach drop, heavy and sickening. Oh, god. If Colin meant what Taron thought he meant--

"I," he said uselessly, then stopped. "Really."

"Mm, yes," said Colin, putting both beer bottles down, then stepped in a little bit closer. "And you haven't made a prat of yourself, love, don't worry."

Taron went hot and cold all over, little fingers tingling in horror.

"Um," he got out, then swallowed, staring at the floor.

"Feel free to tell me to sod off, but - you're a very beautiful man."

Taron was torn; on the one hand, he was dancing an enthusiastic samba on the inside at hearing Colin call him beautiful; on the other hand, he was braced for the imminent no-doubt gracious rejection. On the mutant third hand, he was still a gushing fountain of lava-hot embarrassment at Colin hearing that - that whole conversation, including that Taron wanted to-- god.

There was a long pause. Taron dragged his gaze up to meet Colin's steady one. He could feel how hot his face was. "But?"

Colin smiled kindly at him. "No but, Taron. You're beautiful, talented, smart and sweet - I like you very much, and you have no idea how flattered I was to hear you say those things." His smile sharpened into a wicked smirk. "Flattered and - other things."

Taron felt his eyebrows rise comically high on his face, but he couldn't seem to control it. Or indeed any part of his face. He was also maybe gaping a little. "Um?" he managed. "But - I mean?" He made a hand gesture. "And--?"

Colin tilted his head consideringly, and stepped a little bit closer. Taron's body seemed to hum with awareness of Colin's presence. "And," said Colin, reaching out to cup his hand on Taron's face. "Well. I know I am much older than you, and this is probably just a fleeting infatuation on your part, which is fine, but I would wonder if--"

Taron couldn't hold it in any longer - he was completely confused, enough to bypass how fucking fantastic it was to have Colin touching and possibly fucking flirting with him. He was almost entirely sure he hadn't misjudged and misunderstood Colin so badly, either on marital status or character, so this was distressingly baffling.

"Aren't you--" he burst out. "Aren't you, like? Married?" Not to mention straight, as far as was known, but Taron was fully cognizant of how flexible sexuality could be sometimes; the fact that Colin wasn't - or Taron really didn't want him to be - a cheating bastard was far more of a roadblock.

Colin nodded his head wryly and dropped his hand, and Taron tried not to tilt his head after it. "Ah, well. Yes. I am. But--"

Taron tried to give him a warning look, to convey that despite his galloping heartbeat and red face and desperately embarrassing infatuation, he was not going to be bullshitted about how what someone didn't know wouldn't hurt them, and Colin laughed lightly.

"Oh, you are sweet. No, I promise, love, it's fine. We're married, yes, we love each other very much, but we are also extremely busy, sensible and independent adults. We have - an arrangement."

"Arrangement," said Taron, faintly.

"Mmm, yes. Liv has, at last count, I believe, three other occasional boyfriends, and a girlfriend, in various places across the globe."

"Jesus," breathed Taron. His head was spinning, though it seemed to be settling tentatively into the concept that this was maybe okay and this could maybe actually happen. "I mean, um, good for her."

Colin smiled. "Quite."

"What about, er. What about you? How - many?" Taron wasn't entirely sure how he felt - well, how he felt about any of this, but for now, how he felt about getting Colin, sort of, only to immediately have to share him with not only his wife but god knew how many other girls - and perhaps boys - across the world. He surely wasn't short on offers, and if he had the opportunity to take them up, there could be any number of bits on the side.

Colin shrugged a bit, ducking his head in a surprisingly shy motion. "None, presently, though I've had a few relationships in the past."

Relationship seemed like a very big word suddenly, though not necessarily unwelcome, just perhaps a tad much. Taron tried to not respond to it, which was easy enough, really, as his whole body still felt like it was in lockdown.

"Right," he said. "I'm - sorry, I'm still. Getting over the embarrassment of you - um, hearing all that."

"Like I said, Taron, it wasn't unwelcome."

"Didn't you know, before? I mean, I thought I was being fucking obvious."

Colin shrugged, and he was yet again a little bit closer, and Taron fancied he could feel his body heat already. "I did wonder, but seeing as I have wanted you from the first day we met, I thought it may be the wishful thinking of, well, a bit of a dirty old man."

Holy shit. Taron's breath shuddered out of him. Colin wanted him. Okay. Fine. That was - that was absolutely fine. "Um," he said. "I don't think you're a dirty old man."

Colin grinned, that sudden bright grin that always made Taron go giddy and breathless like an idiot. "Well, I would hope not, though I contend I certainly am, a little bit."

Taron grinned back, like a reflex, heart fluttering hard and fast. "Well, not old, but maybe a bit dirty. I'd guess, anyway."

Colin smirked, definitely stepping closer now, and his hand caught Taron's hip, lazily possessive in a way that made Taron's blood sing. "I suppose you'd like to know, wouldn't you?"

"I--" started Taron, but Colin pulled him in with the hand on his hip, Taron taking one stumbling step until his body was pressed flush up against Colin's and Colin's mouth was sudden and hot against his.

Taron made a slight muffled noise and opened his mouth immediately, eagerly; Colin cupped his other hand on Taron's jaw and tilted his face slightly, slid his tongue hot and slow into Taron's mouth at the same time his fingers rubbed over the fine short hairs at the back of Taron's neck. Goosebumps shivered hot and sudden down Taron's arms and he moaned again, and Colin curled his fingers around the back of Taron's neck and pulled him away slightly, their mouths separating wetly.

"Oh, you are ready for this, aren't you," said Colin, looking delighted, at least the blurry section of his face Taron could see this close up. He thought maybe he should be embarrassed about that, about being so bloody obviously eager for Colin, but Colin's fingers were rasping over the back of his neck, slow and deliberate, and Taron didn't really want to focus on any emotion other than the arousal zipping through him.

"Been, um, been thinking about this for a while," he admitted, breathless.

"Oh, I heard," Colin murmured. "Let me tell you, any time you feel like dropping to your knees is fine by--"

Taron started going down before Colin even finished speaking, head spinning and heart pounding and, yes, cock fattening up so ready in his jeans. He adjusted it impatiently as he settled on his knees, slid his hands up Colin's thighs, the smooth navy of his expensive suit, and thought for a giddy minute about Eggsy doing this to Harry, grinned and closed his eyes. He'd share that thought with Colin, afterwards, maybe.

"--fine by me," finished Colin, actually sounding a bit breathless, and it helped actually, made Taron feel a bit more on an even footing. Not that Colin ever did otherwise, always purposefully made Taron feel included, like a peer, even when Taron wanted to feel like a useless newbie kid, but to see Colin affected by this even a fraction of the way Taron was feeling - well, it felt good. Colin could say he wanted Taron, but seeing his quickened breath and flushed cheeks, as he watched Taron settle at his feet - bit of an ego boost, all he's saying.

Taron grinned up at him, and Colin curled a hand around his chin, tilted him up a little bit. "Gorgeous," he said, and Taron preened. Colin's smile curved into a smirk. "Don't you look so pleased with yourself. Haven't done anything yet."

Taron shrugged, slid his hands further up Colin's thighs until his index fingers were nudging at the seam of his flies. "Pretty sure you're not gonna be disappointed."

"How could I be, with that mouth," murmured Colin, and brushed his fingers over Taron's cheek. "Am I to assume you've done this a lot?"

Taron grinned. He hadn't, actually, just a few friendly blowies at the Academy, but he was pretty sure - from his experience with both guys and girls - that his mouth was pretty bloody good at this sort of thing, and he knew a dose of confidence could get you pretty far.

"Enough to feel pretty sure," he said, then gave in to the urge he'd had since pretty much the day - let's not beat around the bush: the hour - he'd first met Colin in person, and smoothed his hands around to Colin's arse and rubbed his face catlike against the front of Colin's trousers.

Colin wasn’t fully hard, but was getting there, a plump mouthwatering bulge, generous cock and heavy balls caught nicely in his tailored trousers, sensitive and ready, twitching and firming up harder against Taron's mouth as he opened it, breathed hot against the material and dragged his lips wantonly over the curve of Colin's dick.

"Oh - yes," breathed Colin, hands going firmer in Taron's hair. "You are lovely."

Taron felt his face go hot, feeling very pleased and a bit stupid at how the praise affected him. He smothered his helpless grin against the ridge of Colin's cock, then brought his lips together in a showy kiss against the crease of Colin's fly, where his cock strained across, then gave Colin's arse one last squeeze before working his fingers at the button and zip.

Both Colin's hands landed in Taron's hair, firm but gentle, carding through his hair as Taron split the zip over Colin's dick, watching it flex out from the split in his trousers, stretchy fabric of his boxer briefs outlining the shape of his cockhead.

"Jesus," breathed Taron, near involuntarily, struggling to properly understand that was Colin's dick right by his face. He just stared for a moment, traced his finger up the shaft and watched in a rapt sort of awe as it twitched. Colin Firth's dick. Who'd've thought. This young boy from Aberystwyth, and--

"It's not that impressive," said Colin, mildly, and Taron tipped forward, stifled his laugh against Colin's hip.

"Sorry, sorry," he said. "Just, like. Having a moment. And c'mon, it's pretty fuckin' impressive, mate."

"Well--" said Colin, but Taron had had his fill of his moment and really, really wanted that in his mouth. He pulled Colin's underwear down to sit under his balls, and slid his lips over Colin's cock.

His eyes slid shut involuntarily, because he'd been absolutely dreaming about this, and god, the reality was gorgeous. Colin tasted - pretty much like dick, but the best kind of dick: sharp and clean and musky, and he was just the right size to stretch Taron's mouth deliciously without making him feel overwhelmed. He rubbed his tongue indulgently down the underside of Colin's shaft, then pulled back to lick wetly around the head and tease his slit.

"Shit," said Colin distinctly, and his cock jerked hard against Taron's tongue. "Oh, yes--"

Taron went down again, feeling greedy for it, letting Colin's cock slide lushly against his tongue then in deeper, til it was bumping right against the softness of the back of his mouth, his throat fluttering around it. He resisted the urge to gag and let Colin rock his hips forward just the tiniest bit, until Taron's eyes watered and he pulled back, sealing his lips around Colin's dick and sucking hard.

Colin's hands flexed restlessly and eagerly against Taron's hair, and Taron could hear him panting, feeling the restlessness in his hips. He sucked firmly right over Colin's cockhead, lips a tight circle and tongue teasing over and over at Colin's slit, feeling him twitch, tasting the sharpness of the little pulses of precome that Colin started blurting out as his fingers tightened on Taron's head. Then Taron slid down again, then back, bobbing up and down, breathing hard through his nose and feeling both used and fucking powerful as Colin started rocking his hips forward into each slide, noises rising on the back of his harsh breaths as Taron sucked him thoroughly. It felt - it felt a bit like Taron felt on stage, or when he'd seen Colin nod approvingly on set - that lovely heady rush of a job well done.

He wrapped his hand around the base of Colin's cock, the bits he couldn't quite reach even with the best will in the world, and twisted his palm around in the wetness of the slippery spit dripping down from where Colin's cock disappeared into his mouth.

"Oh," said Colin, then gasped. "Oh - my god, Taron--"

Hearing his name in Colin's voice - no: in Colin's voice made breathless and wanting just from Taron's mouth on him, was something incredible. It felt like - fuck, it felt like winning an Oscar, it felt like a hand on his dick, it felt like the best fucking reward. He went down again so deep his eyes teared up and his throat ached, and felt it - god, he could feel Colin's dick swelling up bigger and urgent and rock hard in his mouth, felt the twitch shockwave through from his palm to his lips to his throat. Colin grunted, once, twice, then rocked his hips forward demanding and strong; Taron gagged around him, but god, it was so worth it, because Colin started coming, then, thick and salty. Taron pulled back and swallowed as fast as he could, eyes smarting and tears beading in his eyelashes, until Colin gave a reluctant hiss of breath and carefully pushed Taron's head away, drawing his softening cock out of Taron's mouth. Taron wanted for a wild moment to push back, just keep it in his mouth and suck Colin hard again, however long it took; but Colin kept going, snubbed his thumb up against Taron's bottom lip as his cock slid out, and said, "C'mon, love, that was fantastic, thank you," and Taron became abruptly incredibly aware of his own dick.

He kept his eyes closed for a moment, feeling overwhelmed for just a second as though he'd just come himself, then blinked up at Colin, who looked - rumpled, to say the least, and awed and pleased and generally lovely.

"C'mon," said Colin again, then, "before I fall down," and Taeon realised he was stepping backwards towards the bed, hand outstretched to keep cupping Taron's face.

Taron scrambled to his feet and kept the contact, pressing Colin's hand to his face with his own hand, then tangling Colin's fingers in his own as Colin sat down on the bed.

Taron went with yet another fantasy he'd had a few times, and sank down over Colin's lap, straddling him and grinning down, conscious of Colin's soft cock between them, spilling out of his opened trousers. Filthy and strangely intimate. Taron was so into it.

"Alright?" he said, grinning and Colin smirked at him.

"More than," he said, "but you know that, you little tart."

"Well," said Taron, feeling warm and pleased and deciding not to question why being labelled a tart would do that to him. "I certainly enjoyed myself."

"Mm," said Colin, "So did I." He sneaked a hand between Taron's legs, the other cupped over his arse, and gave him a quick squeeze.

Taron let out a noise immediately, a gasping sort of moan, and dropped his head forward onto Colin's shoulder. The both of them were still fully bloody dressed, but Taron couldn't bear to stop Colin's hand working him confidently through his jeans, in order for them to get any more clothes off.

Colin's hand worked backwards, cupping his balls and fingers questing up into his crack, rubbing at the dip between his cheeks, and even through his jeans and pants Taron went all hot and shivery - because this he'd imagined, Colin's fingers, tongue, cock up his arse, but it felt too crazy to truly think it could ever happen, especially as he'd never done - quite that, never a cock up there.

"Oh, I can have fun with you," said Colin, and lay back on the bed, feet still on the floor as Taron sprawled forward over him, seeking Colin's mouth somewhat desperately for a filthy, open-mouthed snog. Colin's other hand left Taron's arse for long enough to wrench open his flies, then work his jeans and pants down to below his arse The air conditioning in the room felt cool and strange on Taron's bare arse and the sweat collecting at the base of his spine, then Colin's right hand was wrapped around his straining cock and his left was back cupping Taron's arse then delving cheekily into his crack.

His fingers snubbed dry against Taron's hole, and started rubbing a tight little circle around it, making Taron shudder and whimper into Colin's mouth, until the combination of the pressure on his hole and the firm pulling grip Colin had on his cock was too much and he had to shove his face tino Colin's neck, whimpering and shivering and sobbing into the warm skin.

His orgasm was building, collecting heavy and ready in the bottom of his stomach and making his cock twitch and leak, all wet and tight and so fucking ready. Colin's fingers went frantic and hard at his arse, so close to pressing inside, one finger against his hole and the others rubbing down mercilessly against his perineum, until Taron's vision went sparkling white at the edges and his throat hurt with the noises that were tearing out of him and collecting loud and wet against Colin's neck.

He came in wrenching, thick eager pulses , slippery and thick over Colin's fingers, messing Colin's suit and Taron's t-shirt to hell; he yelled out helplessly into Colin's neck until he collapsed as though his strings were cut. His legs and arms slumped down, a dead weight over Colin, near falling off the bloody bed, seeing as they hadn't even managed to get themselves on it properly.

Colin let him swim in bliss for a few minutes, before rubbing the hand that had been busy at his arse on the duvet and then tugging a luck of Taron's hair lightly between his fingers.

"Fancy getting a little bit more comfortable?"

"Mmphgh," said Taron, feeling a little like his brain was still leaking out of his ears.

"I'll carry you if needs be," said Colin conversationally, "but--"

"Nnngh," said Taron. "Mmmf. Fine." He shuffled backwards and eventually managed to stand on shaky legs, looking at Colin was who was still sprawled on the bed, feet on the floor, cock hanging out and face red, but still some how managing to look like he had some dignity.

Taron had no dignity left - if he'd ever had any - and didn't really think he minded.

"Can't believe neither of us took any of our clothes off," he complained, suddenly feeling disgustingly hot and sweaty in his t shirt and tugged down jeans, and started taking them off.

Colin watched him hotly. "I think it's a compliment to the both of us. Neither of us could possibly bear to wait to take anything off."

"I think I ruined your suit," said Taron, tugging off his jeans - and socks, can never forget those in these situations - and standing bare-arse naked in front of Colin. He still had a fairly good remnant of his Kingsman training abs; plus he still felt knocked too stupid enough by orgasm to feel self conscious. The way Colin was looking at him helped.

"That's what dry-cleaning is for," said Colin, shrugging and finally sitting up to shrug his own jacket and shirt off, and working his trousers down. He looked unfairly, impossibly good, all broad shouldered and confident in his own skin, and Taon felt immediately cheated that they'd had sex without him getting to see any of that.

"Can't believe I'm only getting to see you naked now," he complained immediately - he didn't think there was any point in filtering himself around Colin any longer. "It doesn't seem fair, look at you."

"Look at you," countered Colin immediately, shuffling backwards on the bed and lifting the cover in an invitation Taron was not going to ignore. "I could say the same."

"Well, said Taron, clambering back onto the bed, "we'll just have to, like--"

His nerve failed him at the last moment and he felt like an idiot, mostly because Colin was curving a possessive arm around his shoulders and tugging him in.

"Do this again?" said Colin. "Unless you've changed your mind during the evening, then I was fairly sure we'd be doing this a good number of times. Unless you--"

"God, no, yes, please," said Taron nonsensically. "I mean, um. Yes, I'd like to do this again, if you would." He realised he didn't really know what Colin - wanted, exactly, by what he'd said earlier. Is this a relationship? How far, exactly, did a relationship go within Colin and Liv's arrangement?

"I definitely would." They curled together under the covers, Colin pulling them up carefully and wrapping them around the both of them. "I know we didn't talk about this in much detail before we--" he lifted his hand from Taron's hip to make an expansive gesture - "but we can now, if you want."

"Yeah - yeah," said Taron. "I mean, I - I'm." He twisted his mouth and tried again. "I've wanted to shag you since I pretty much met you? But I mean. Now, I don't want. I mean. Just, like." He stopped. "As you can see, I'm unbelievably articulate and a right catch."

Colin smiled at him and dragged him in for a kiss, all wet and affectionate. "If you're saying what I think you're saying, then I don't want to just shag you either. I may have been thinking about it for a long while, but - Taron, you're pretty remarkable. Definitely what I'd call a catch, anyway."

Taron felt himself go red. "Ugh," he said eloquently.

Colin smirked. "Quite. So if you're - hm. Amenable?Then I think I'd rather like to date you, both antiquated and American as that sounds."

"You mean--"

"I suppose I mean - I'd like to take you out to dinner and treat you and spend time with you. Obviously life and the media being what is is, we can't be too obvious about it - poor Liv doesn't need the bloody scrutiny if people misunderstand, even as she's wining and dining her beaus across the globe. But if you'd be okay with it, I'd like to try and do that with you, when we can, and where we can. No obligations or constraints, but just - you and I, having, well. A nice time."

Taron rolled his shoulders and squirmed and resisted the urge to bury his face in Colin's chest. "I - well. I think that might be nice."

"Nice?" Taron could hear the smirk in Colin's voice even as he closed his eyes and tried to ignore the heat rising on his face.

"Fuck you, yes, nice, I want to date you and hold your hand and fuck you and meet your wife and try and convince her I'm good enough for you and whatever - well. Whatever you want, really, Colin."

"If you ever decide that we - that you, you know, someone your own age--"

"Colin," said Taron calmly, propping himself up on one elbow. "No offence, but shut the fuck up."

"I'm only saying."

"I know, and - again, shut the fuck up."

Colin tried to look annoyed but mostly ended up looking pleased and a bit fond. It was, Taron realised, an expression he'd seen directed at him a fair few times before now. Potentially, Taron had been a bit blind, but when you fancy someone like Colin Firth, you don't exactly expect it to be required, ever, so he reckoned he was allowed a bit of slack.





"Don't fall asleep, we still have to go to dinner."

Taron made a considering noise. "Room service? Naked dinner?"

"...You make a very persuasive argument."