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♦
buffyverse
They were nil all, five minutes into the second half when everything changed. Bradley Thorn had just intercepted a pass, and was dribbling the ball down the field towards the opposition goalposts when a wave passed through him. He paused for a moment, distracted. A wave, yes, an invisible monumental ripple of some kind, sweeping through him and past him and onwards, leaving him transformed in its wake. Something warm was happening inside him. Something powerful was unfurling…
One of the Dartmouth guys took the opportunity to steal the ball from him. Bradley shook himself, tore after him, and regathered it. He started dribbling down the field again, fast and clever. His footwork more agile than it had ever been. He frowned a little, and looked at the goalposts still over fifty yards away. Impossible. Yet he could see exactly how it could be done; he already knew exactly how to kick the ball, lofting it over the defenders’ heads and easing into the top right corner of the posts, just past the keeper’s outstretched hands… He wouldn’t even need more than a fraction of his newfound strength.
So he took a breath, and made it happen. Perfectly impossible. Impossibly perfect.
Exeter U won 5–0, and Bradley Thorn had kicked every single one of those goals. It was the most amazing thing ever.
♦
reality
‘Come on,’ said Colin, projecting his exasperation as if he were on a theatre stage instead of just the phone. ‘I thought you’d be in your element! You and Tony in a Buffy movie together… Does it get any better than that?’
‘I guess not.’ He sighed. ‘It’s just a spin–off, you know. It’s not like she’s even in it. Buffy, I mean. Sarah.’
‘So, you’re the star, Bradley James. Tell me why that’s a bad thing?’
‘It’s not,’ he admitted with great reluctance.
‘What’s the problem, then?’
Bradley wandered around his hotel room, kicking morosely at the stupid carpet. ‘Dunno.’
‘All right,’ Colin said easily. He was a good friend: he knew when to push, and when to leave it be. He knew when to be silent, and when to change the topic. Right now apparently silence was the right choice.
Eventually, after another couple of aimless circuits, Bradley said, ‘I was talking with David the other day –’
‘David being…?’
‘The director. And he said he wanted to cast me because of my chemistry with Tony… and he meant chemistry… And I said, hey, we were playing father and son. And he said, I know.’
Colin took a moment with this. And then he snorted. ‘He’s seriously suggesting that Uther and Arthur had an –’
‘Just don’t even say it, Morgan,’ Bradley butted in, feeling rather pained. ‘Just don’t even go there.’
But Colin was obviously intrigued by the notion. So after a while, Bradley made his excuses and ended the call. Well. That hadn’t helped anything.
♦
buffyverse
This old bespectacled guy in tweeds approached Bradley in the cafeteria, and introduced himself as Rupert Giles. He seemed to want to shake hands, but Bradley was carrying a tray stacked with food, so instead they kinda shrugged apologetically at each other. ‘Can we talk?’ the old guy asked. He seemed… interested in Bradley to the point of fascination.
‘Sure, uh…’ Bradley was still trying to place him. Perhaps he was the economics professor; Bradley tended to doze through those lectures. ‘D’you want me to come to your office, Mr Giles?’
A rather appealing little smile appeared. ‘No. Let’s find a seat. Outside, perhaps? And I’ll explain who I am.’
They headed outside. Bradley – the undisputed star of the footy team now – nodded at those who acknowledged him along the way. It was all ‘Hey, man’, and half high–fives (if only he had a hand free he’d provide the other half), and suggestive smiles from the girls, and even a wink from one of the guys…
Eventually he and Mr Giles found a table outside, a little removed from the others. Bradley sat down, and made a start on his lunch while the guy watched him. Rupert Giles was fascinated, yes. It kinda put Bradley’s hackles up. Around a mouthful of lasagne, Bradley asked, ‘How can I help you?’
The guy took a moment to polish his glasses. Then he asked, ‘Have you felt quite different lately? Stronger? More powerful? Have your senses become more acute?’
Bradley had stopped chewing on stronger, and stared at the man.
‘Have you been suffering from vivid dreams? Nightmares?’
Bradley nodded. His nights had become horror movies without the popcorn, without a date to comfort, without the credits rolling after.
Rupert Giles nodded, too. ‘Then, let me explain what’s happened to you…’
♦
Bradley Thorn sat there looking shocked, his lunch forgotten. Giles smiled to himself. These initial moments were always the same, no matter who he talked to. He’d got the narrative down pat now. He let the boy take his time to digest it. Then Giles put his glasses back on, and leant forward a little to say gently, ‘Yes, there really are vampires. Even here in Exeter.’
But Bradley irritably shrugged this off. Apparently he had taken that on board already. Bradley frowned. And then finally he demanded in outrage, ‘What do you mean, all the slayers are girls…?’
Giles chuckled to himself. ‘Yes. You’re the first boy. Man, sorry,’ he amended as Bradley’s scowl deepened. ‘It’s really quite exciting. From a scholarly perspective.’
The young man thought some more. His outrage slowly started fading. Finally his attention returned to an appraisal of Giles himself. ‘All right. Where do you fit in?’
Giles smiled. ‘I’ve come to ask if you’ll join us.’
♦
reality
‘So, when’s the Big Day?’ asked Colin. Another evening, another phone call. ‘The Red Letter Day?’
‘Oh. Did I tell you about that already?’ Bradley ran his hand back through his hair. His sense of confusion was obviously reaching epic proportions.
‘You mentioned it,’ Colin said lightly. Then, rather more significantly, ‘It was Tony who told me all, so. He sounded rather… gleeful.’
‘Really? Well, I suppose it’s been a while.’
A silent moment passed. ‘It has? I mean, when did you –? You’ve already –?’
‘I haven’t, no. But obviously Tony has.’
Another silent moment, longer than the last. ‘Bradley,’ said Colin.
‘Yes?’
‘What are we talking about?’
Bradley sighed. ‘I’m talking about meeting Joss Whedon. He’s visiting the set, day after tomorrow.’
‘Ah. Your god is putting in an appearance.’
‘Yeah. What are you talking about?’
‘I’m talking about your big love scene.’
Bradley sniffed, and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. ‘It’s a sex scene, thank you,’ he said loftily.
Colin chuckled filthily down the phone. Honestly, you didn’t need a webcam with Colin Morgan: every emotion and reaction came through clear as day, and Bradley could well imagine the wicked grin on his face. ‘Looking forward to it?’ Colin asked with mock innocence.
There wasn’t any decent answer to that. ‘Sod off,’ Bradley advised.
‘Tony seemed to be.’
Was that meant to make him feel better or worse? ‘Huh. Gleeful, you said?’
‘Yeah. Thought you would be, too. Finally having your way with Giles… Every fangirl’s dream.’
‘I am not a girl!’ he retorted in annoyance before he could stop himself.
‘No, of course not.’ In soothing yet utterly insincere tones.
‘Morgan –’
‘So, when is it?’ Colin asked, rather more reasonably.
‘Tomorrow.’
‘Yeah, so. Wanted to wish you luck.’
‘Thanks,’ he replied, rather less than half–heartedly.
‘And, you know… Enjoy it. If you can.’
Bradley had no answer to that at all.
‘Go with it. You’ll be fine.’
‘Yeah,’ he said in a small voice. ‘Thanks.’ And he ended the call.
♦
buffyverse
His first hunt. His first staking. It had been a scrap: messy, challenging, exhilarating. Almost better than kicking a winning goal. Almost.
No, better.
Afterwards the two of them burst in through the door of Giles’ hotel room. And suddenly there wasn’t enough space. There wasn’t enough air. Bradley was on. He could feel his eyes shining, his skin glowing, his blood singing. And Giles himself was pretty much the same in his own low–key way – eyes sparkling, and that rather appealing smile curving his lips.
And Bradley had to do something with all this energy. He had to do someone… He looked around, knowing there was only one option.
A hand spread on Giles’ chest, pushing him back against the wall by the door. Giles went with it, spilling an oof. Bradley followed him, his other hand snaring the older man’s nape, bringing his head down – so their mouths could meet, heavy and demanding on Bradley’s part, surprised but receptive on Giles’. Bradley pressed up against the man, desperate for body against body, strength against strength. Giles complied, at last lifting his arms with one hand settling perfectly in the small of Bradley’s back, and the other cupping the back of Bradley’s head, as if wanting very much to keep him close. Well, Bradley wasn’t going anywhere.
Except maybe the bed. Within a few minutes he found they were still in each other’s arms, still devouring, but now shifting around each other, stumbling, tripping on feet while hands were busy at buttons and zips – until they fell onto the bed, each half undressed, each fully ready – and even though Bradley had begun this, even though Bradley was the slayer, even though he was a man who thought he knew exactly who he was and what he wanted, even though he was young and strong while Giles was old and academic – Bradley found himself lying back, surrendering, giving himself over to Giles, who worked upon him with care and attention and a sense of wonder.
And they came like that, simply, urgently thrusting against each other, watching each other warily. And then they lay there catching their breath, holding each other loosely with the hotel room dark and quiet around them. Until it was time to do it all over again.
♦
reality
Bradley, naked in his hotel room, sitting on the edge of the bed staring down at his own strainingly rampant cock. Willing it to go away. This was all very difficult and inconvenient. Maybe if his body wasn’t going to cooperate, he’d have to go out, try to find some action – though he’d rarely been that coldblooded about it. No, maybe he should just go have a wank in the shower. Two or three wanks. Maybe… Maybe he did have chemistry with Tony after all…
But Tony was off limits. Tony was married, or as good as. And why was Bradley even thinking about that when he was straight, definitely not gay – and oh my god why didn’t they devote entire courses to how to deal with this sort of thing in drama school? It shouldn’t have affected him like this. Bradley thought he and Tony had, well, nailed the scene. But it shouldn’t have had such an unbearable effect on him.
He was just about to head for the shower when a knock came at the door. Bradley ignored it. He was naked, after all. A second knock. Why would housekeeping plague him now, for god’s sake? Then a third. ‘Not a good time!’ he called out.
‘Bradley.’ It was Tony. He sounded urgent. ‘Let me in. Bradley!’
He grabbed a pillow for want of anything else, and held it in front of him as he opened the door. Tony took him in with a sweep of those eyes. Shining eyes. Glowing skin. And not Giles’ small appealing smile, but a serious look, all Tony’s own. A look of utter desperate hunger to mirror Bradley’s own.
Bradley stepped back, and Tony came in. The door swung closed behind him. A hand spread on Bradley’s chest, pushing him back against the wall. Tony followed him, leaning in so their mouths could meet, hungry and demanding on Tony’s part, surprised but receptive on Bradley’s. A devouring kiss lasted long moments before Bradley gathered himself and turned his head away. The pillow was torn from his hands. Tony pressed up against him. Nevertheless, Bradley asked, ‘Your wife?’
‘Bi,’ Tony said, his voice muffled against Bradley’s throat.
‘By what?’
‘Bisexual,’ Tony explained, casting him one of Giles’ frustrated annoyed looks. ‘Both of us. We’re allowed the odd adventure.’
‘Is that what I am? An odd adventure?’
‘A beautiful adventure,’ Tony amended, warmly appreciative now. ‘And thank you for asking. But it’s all right.’
‘Good,’ Bradley managed. And he didn’t say anything coherent again for quite a while.
♦
He didn’t do anything very coherent either, because just as with the Bradley Thorn character, Bradley James found himself surrendering, lying back, and Tony moved over him with purpose. Apparently he was going to have Bradley and there was nothing to be done about it. Tony had even come prepared. And Bradley was too needy to really consider arguing, lying there radiating heat, helplessly hard through it all even as Tony carefully yet firmly pressed a lubed finger into him, watching him, seeing the telltale flush on Bradley’s cheeks. Bradley was afire with need, conscious of moaning softly at Tony’s tentative yet bold possession of him. And this should not have been, it could not be happening. Yet it was, god, it was, and it was wonderful.
Somewhere in the middle of that, Bradley’s phone rang. He didn’t even think about moving. When Tony glanced at him enquiringly, he explained, he apologised: ‘Colin.’
‘Ah,’ said Tony knowingly. ‘Of course.’ And he paused for a moment, letting his head drop so that Bradley couldn’t see his face.
But Bradley let the call go through to voicemail.
♦
Tony shifting behind him now, spooning him, moulding a malleable Bradley to his needs. Or was that the other way round, with Bradley moulding Tony into something that would fill his emptiness, answer his hunger, make him whole? And he liked – he liked – god, the feeling of being penetrated, literally, his defences breached and someone was inside him, within him, part of him. It was mad, quite mad. He wasn’t meant to feel this way at all.
It didn’t hurt. It wasn’t pleasurable either, except in the abstract way of simply needing the act. It was uncomfortable, with an intriguing kind of ache, and just the idea of it was more than enough to see him through it. Tony was careful, but less so at the end, when he suddenly drove deep within him. It was wonderful.
Afterwards, Tony rolled a rubber onto Bradley, and went down on him. That was pleasurable. Tony had a very clever mouth. Even then Bradley wanted this new sensation, though. Penetration. ‘Your finger,’ he whispered. ‘Please.’
Tony obliged, gently pushing inside again, carefully becoming part of him. And finally Bradley was done, and they held each other there on Bradley’s bed for a long while. And the room was quiet and dark around them.
♦
buffyverse
‘You know what I love?’ Bradley Thorn cried out, striding away from Giles in yet another graveyard.
Who’d have thought Exeter had so many cemeteries? ‘What do you love?’ Giles asked, following along at a brisk walk. Not chasing this beautiful young man, no. That would be beneath him.
‘I love football, all right? Maybe that’s my calling. I can live without all this hanging around in graveyards.’
‘Look,’ said Giles, struggling to keep up, and getting more annoyed than ever – with himself for not being as fit as he used to be. With himself for being a bit of a fool for this… ridiculously beautiful young man. ‘Look, Bradley –’
‘What?’ He’d stopped suddenly, and Giles almost ran into him. Bradley demanded, ‘What’s so great about slaying? And anyway, didn’t you say there’s hundreds, thousands of slayers out there now? When there used to be only one. So, what do you need me for?’
‘There must be a reason why you were given these abilities.’
‘Just stupid random luck. And I’m a guy. Wrong gender in the wrong place at the wrong time, or something. It doesn’t have anything to do with me, or what I want.’
‘Callings often don’t. They can be inconvenient, incomprehensible –’
‘Oh, stop with all the multi–syllable words. You’re thinking it again, aren’t you?’
‘Thinking what?’ Giles asked, taking a cautious step back in the face of Bradley’s fury.
‘You’re thinking dumb blond and airhead and footy player. You’re thinking just a pretty face. But guess what? There’s nothing wrong with being good at football. It takes skills. It takes physical abilities that need developing just like your intellectual abilities did. And it even takes some brains.’
‘I wouldn’t argue with any of that.’
‘No?’
Giles chuckled a little under his breath. ‘They’d revoke my British citizenship if I denigrated the Beautiful Game…’
Bradley took a breath, momentarily out of arguments. He was still fuming, though.
Giles carefully offered, ‘You’ve been given these amazing skills. If you want to use them for football rather than slaying –’
‘This isn’t the use your talents for good not evil thing, is it?’
‘No. Not at all. I just think, if you combine both – football and slaying – you’re giving something back.’
‘Back to what?’
‘I don’t know. The universe. Your fellow human beings. The people you know here in Exeter. Don’t you want to save them from vampire attacks, if you can? How would you feel, to hear about someone’s death, and know you might have been able to prevent it?’
Bradley took a step back, turned away. Crossed his arms. ‘Well, I’d hate it. Obviously.’
‘Then why are we arguing?’
‘I don’t know,’ the young man muttered.
‘Look. Come back. We’ll keep watch on this one grave. You might have to slay him. Then –’
‘Yeah, all right,’ Bradley interrupted sourly. ‘I know what happens then.’ And by the end of those five words he was already smiling a bit wryly, a bit happily.
‘Well, that would be very nice,’ said Giles, taking off his glasses for a moment. ‘But I was going to say – slay him, then a good night’s sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.’
‘All right,’ Bradley agreed with a sigh. ‘All right.’ He started walking back towards the fresh grave, shoulder to shoulder with Giles. ‘Dunno about the good night’s sleep though,’ he quibbled.
‘You’re going to be the death of me,’ said Giles. But even he knew he sounded rather inappropriately pleased about that.
♦
reality
Colin turned up for a visit, with barely a day’s warning. He seemed a bit on edge, as if his shoulders were hunched and his hands were stuffed in his pockets, even when they weren’t. Which set Bradley on edge, too. It seemed the friendship they’d developed during the months on Merlin had fallen away – maybe not completely, but it wasn’t there to slip into any more, at least not easily. Bradley mourned it. They’d come so far after such an unpromising start. Now they were back to – well, not square one exactly, but maybe square three. He sighed.
Despite all that, Colin hung around on set with him. Bradley was too polite to tell him to take a hike, but the edginess didn’t help his performance any. Not that David said anything. In fact, David gushed more than ever. So maybe it was helping? Who could know?
Bradley wondered if Colin had found out somehow, or guessed, that he and Tony had slept together. It had only been a handful of times. And Bradley knew somehow that it wasn’t going to happen while their Merlin colleague was hanging around. But Colin seemed a bit on edge with Tony, too, and what other reason could he have for that? Or maybe he was like this with everyone. Bradley couldn’t even tell any more.
Bradley was confused. It was reaching terminal proportions.
♦
On the second night of Colin’s visit the two of them took a six–pack of Corona back to Bradley’s hotel room. Bradley sat on the bed, propped up against the headboard, while Colin wandered restlessly around. After they were each into their second beer, Bradley finally asked, ‘What’s up?’
Colin just looked at him with deadpan ignorance.
‘Don’t give me that, Morgan. Something’s bugging you.’
‘And you wanna talk about it? You are such a girl, Bradley James.’
He flushed with annoyance, there was no getting around it. ‘I can think of worse things to be.’
‘Oh yeah? Like what?’ Belligerent Irish tones. Colin was spoiling for a fight.
‘Why are you even here, Morgan?’
He just shrugged. Shoulders hunched and hands in his pockets.
‘Come on. Spit it out. We were good friends for a while there. Better be again, if we’re not gonna drive each other mad the next few years. So let’s just get it said.’
Colin was looking at him all wide blue eyes, as if a little astonished. ‘All right,’ he said at last. He wandered off aimlessly around the room. ‘Yeah. All right. I guess I have something to tell you.’
Bradley settled a bit more comfortably on the bed, and nodded encouragingly.
‘I guess I want to… come out, as it were.’
‘Oh, is that all?’
‘What?’
‘I guessed that already.’
‘You did?’
‘Well, not that you’re gay, obviously. But you’re…’
‘What?’
‘Open to experience?’ Bradley ventured.
Colin was staring at him hard, with those bright mysterious blue eyes. That creamy Irish skin, that wild black hair. He was a scrawny Irish git, but he was Bradley’s scrawny Irish git.
‘Am I right?’ Bradley asked.
‘Yeah,’ Colin admitted. ‘But I meant to –’ He sighed. ‘Oh, just – Yeah.’
‘Cool.’
Colin went for another wander. Finished his second beer. ‘What about you?’ he eventually asked.
‘Oh,’ said Bradley brightly, ‘considerably more open than I used to be.’
Colin nodded. ‘Cool.’ He kept wandering restlessly.
Bradley laughed. ‘Come here, you idiot.’ And he patted the bed beside him.
Colin, for once, did exactly what he was told.
♦
They didn’t do much. But then, managing to do anything felt like an Oscar–winning achievement. They kissed for a long while, those delicious pink lips of Colin’s finally Bradley’s for the plundering. And then eventually when it came time to either call it quits for the night or go ahead and actually do something, they somehow managed to make the right decision, and indulged in a slow mutual hand job, teasing it out as long as possible – a restraint made all the harder for Bradley by Colin muttering and moaning and finally chuckling in that filthy Irish accent of his.
But then – Colin kissed him farewell, sweetly, regretfully, and left. At least Tony had always stayed the night. Bradley felt quite bereft. He’d somehow gotten used to sleeping with a male form wrapped close around him. He’d been pinning his hopes on that happening again.
♦
buffyverse
Bradley eventually turned up for what Giles called patrol, and just in time, too, for Giles was struggling with a newly risen vamp. It felt good to save the day – well, the night – and his slayer powers made it ridiculously easy. Vampires were stronger than humans – even ones who knew how to fight, like Giles – but slayers beat them all. Bradley thought it was pretty damn cool.
‘Nice of you to put in an appearance,’ Giles said once the vamp was dust.
‘Think I’d leave you out here alone to grab all the glory?’
Giles took off his glasses and polished them. There was actually vamp dust on them, so for once there was good reason. He quietly observed, ‘There’s very little glory in slaying, Bradley.’
‘Yeah. Yeah, I know.’ Bradley sighed, and settled in beside Giles as they wandered off through the graveyard. ‘Look. I’m not ready to go join the gang yet, you know? I like it here. I like it at the uni. I like playing footy here. That’s my team! I wanna stay here in Exeter…’ He paused in wonder. ‘I never thought I’d say that.’
Giles laughed a little. ‘You don’t have to move away. But I think you should visit us at least. Meet some of the, uh, gang. You should know that you have friends to call on when you need them. But having a slayer in Exeter certainly isn’t a bad thing for us.’
Bradley nodded. They walked on in silence for a while. There were other cemeteries to patrol. Eventually Bradley said, ‘So when you talk about us, you mean you and them.’
Giles looked at him for a long moment. ‘Would you prefer I meant you and me?’
Bradley shrugged, avoiding the man’s gaze. ‘Maybe for a while at least. There’s probably heaps of stuff you should teach me.’
‘Are you the kind of student who actually listens?’
He grinned. Giles had his measure. ‘Sometimes. Depends.’
Eventually Giles said, ‘All right. For a while at least.’
‘Thanks,’ said Bradley.
‘It’s no hardship on my part, believe me.’
Bradley Thorn smiled.
♦
reality
‘Fuck me,’ Bradley murmured in Colin’s ear as Colin mouthed needily at his throat.
Colin was surprised. He drew back a little to consider Bradley. ‘Really?’
‘Really.’
‘I thought you were pretty new to all this.’
‘Well, yeah. But not totally new. And I guess I jumped in the deep end.’
Colin’s look soured a little. ‘Tony.’
‘A gentleman never tells,’ Bradley said primly.
Colin ran a gentle hand over Bradley’s hair, but then settled in beside him as if they were just cuddling and not about to do the wild thing.
Bradley was swamped with a panicked kind of regret. ‘You don’t want to? That’s fine. We can do other things instead. But… the offer’s there. If you want. Cos I want.’
Colin was regarding him a bit warily. Eventually he said, ‘There’s something you should know about me.’
‘Does it have anything to do with you fucking me?’
Apparently Colin couldn’t help but grin at that. ‘No, but it’s kinda –’
Bradley pressed a kiss to the corner of Colin’s jaw, to the hollow just where it met his ear. He’d already found out that Colin loved that. ‘Cos I want you to fuck me…’
‘Bradley James,’ Colin complained, already falling.
‘I want you to fill me up…’
‘Bradley –’ Colin moaned as Bradley bit at his throat.
‘I want you to penetrate me…’ God there was something about that word. Penetrate. He murmured it again as he shifted onto his back, bringing Colin over with him. ‘Penetrate me… Penetrate my heart.’
‘Oh god,’ groaned Colin. He was already moving over Bradley, his hips rocking, their cocks hard and jostling each other. It would have been wonderful just like that but Bradley wanted so much more. Colin kissed him full–bloodedly, then asked, ‘Condoms?’
‘Top drawer,’ Bradley said, tilting his head towards the bedside cabinet.
Moments later Colin was kneeling between Bradley’s thighs, rolling a rubber down his long elegant cock. And they were watching each other with bright eyes. Colin’s were like actual sapphires, it wasn’t even a metaphor any more. Dark and precious and full of light. The most awesome colour.
‘Colin,’ Bradley whispered, lifting his arms to welcome his friend.
Already this act felt so good to Bradley. Even the discomfort was long gone. Colin pushed carefully inside him, Bradley urging him on, tilting his hips to give himself, to take all of his friend in, as much as he could possibly fit. And Colin was magnificent, moving over him at arm’s length, looking down upon him with awe. ‘Bradley –’ Colin whispered urgently.
‘Yes, yes,’ said Bradley, wanting more, wanting all of him.
And Colin was incredible, his hair glinting jet black and growing wild, tendrils of it twisting even as Bradley watched. It wasn’t a metaphor. Wild hair. That beautiful creamy skin aglow with a bluish light. The colour and the shape of those lips becoming just impossibly tasty. Colin transforming.
Bradley gazed up at him in awe. And at last he understood. He wasn’t surprised at all when Colin grinned a bit ferally, and revealed his incisors…
‘My god,’ said Bradley, ‘you’re beautiful.’
Colin’s grin turned wickedly delighted. But he asked, ‘Trust me?’
‘Yes. Yes.’
And Colin lowered himself, nuzzled at Bradley’s throat. Found the strong pulse.
Bradley turned his head away a little, offering himself. ‘Penetrate me,’ he whispered again. Meaning it, oh god meaning it.
And Colin bit into him, possessed him with teeth as well as cock. Drank from him, just a little.
Bradley felt so utterly safe. So accepted. So completely desired. ‘Yes, yes…’
Colin’s hand reached down between them, and it hardly took anything at all to bring Bradley off. Suddenly he was coming, pouring out another part of himself, giving more of himself to his friend, his beautiful friend, god… ‘Colin Morgan,’ Bradley murmured as he came, as he clutched down hard, as he felt Colin kick within him – that cock ramming hard, that mouth sucking devouring – and Colin was groaning his name, too, sounding so utterly perfectly satisfied. ‘Bradley James…’
♦
They lay there together for a long while, sated and happy and dazed. There was so much to talk about and yet all the important things were already understood.
Nevertheless, Colin eventually said, ‘I love you, Bradley James.’
Bradley kissed him for that. But then he said, ‘I thought you were a vegetarian.’
Colin laughed. ‘I am.’
‘Well, how does that work with the – you know.’
A beautiful amused smile. They were close in each other’s arms. ‘I don’t kill anything to eat. Not animals. Not humans. You can trust me.’
‘I do.’ Then Bradley asked, ‘What do I taste like?’
‘You English boys always taste of roast beef.’
‘Oh,’ Bradley was disappointed on Colin’s behalf. ‘I guess that’s no good for you, huh? Being a vege?’
Colin’s smile turned mysterious. ‘It’s actually very nice indeed.’
This was intriguing. ‘What would you taste like?’
‘Irish boys taste of Guinness, of course.’
Colin rasped at the puncture wounds on Bradley’s throat with the flat of his tongue. The wounds tingled deliciously. Bradley could feel they were healing already. He was almost tempted to provoke Colin into biting him again. ‘How much do you need?’ Bradley asked, kinda hushed. ‘Blood, I mean.’
‘Not much. Hardly any, just to live on. It doesn’t work like your god Joss Whedon thinks it does.’
Bradley cupped that beautiful face in one hand. ‘What if I want it to only be me?’
Colin looked at him with a fierce kind of hope.
‘Only penetrate me. Only fuck me. Only drink from me.’
‘Do you love me, too, then, Bradley James?’
‘Yeah, I do.’
Colin kissed him for that. ‘Then, yes. Only you.’
And Bradley vowed in return, ‘Only you, Colin Morgan.’
♦