Because
I warn you that there is an abuse of italics and bold in this 'fic.
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Bradley hates THAT magazine.
Those first three previews of Colin were bad enough, with that look, that profile...
His dick felt sore for a week after those previews came out, because every time he closed his eyes he could see Colin in that black-and-white, looking at him through a fucking picture and those three images became seared into his brain and he fucking hates that magazine.
It took all his self-control when he first saw Colin again to make sure he didn’t proposition him, or possibly go on his knees, especially with the noir, black-and-white fantasies flaring up whenever he even saw Colin, and that just might ruin their friendship. And not in a good way.
And while he disliked THAT magazine before, the fourth picture made him full-on hate it. So stupid, especially since the fourth preview is small, but it still made him (and hundreds of other fans, at least they have a common interest) almost-mindless with want. And it’s stupid and it’s Colin and now he has four images seared into his mind.
Groaning, he relaxed onto the covers of his hotel bed, glad that today is one of those days off. Not like he’d be able to do anything now, with his concentration on anything not Colin shot to hell. Closing his eyes, the four pictures faded into each other in his mind, settling on the latest one.
Colin caressed the balustrade, eyes looking demurely down, and he caught his breath. Colin’s like a moving sculpture, all beautiful angles, fitted suit casting shadows and contrast as deft hands traced patterns onto the wood. Moving closer slowly, he put a hand on Colin’s arm, and Colin looked up, black-grey eyes piercing into his. They collided, and he cornered Colin against the balustrade, and he groaned, hands running through that glorious hair as they kissed.
Heat simmered in him as they devoured each other, and he could never ever get enough of this. Moaning, he put a hand on the balustrade, other hand twining in Colin’s soft hair and how he wished he had more arms or telekinesis so he could get that bloody suit off, pressing against Colin in a most delicious way.
Moaning, they parted after what felt like too short a time. “Col...” he breathed, hands feathering up and down Colin’s neck and going to undo the tie, Colin unbuttoning his jacket as they breathed each other in. Reluctantly his hands left Colin’s neck, travelling down to Colin’s hips, untucking the flimsy shirt, and he was riveted by the pleasure on Colin’s face, shivering as Colin’s hands held onto his arms firmly.
His moved underneath Colin’s shirt, and he felt Colin arch up, full mouth open in a silent moan, and his hands travelled lower, heat pooling in his gut as he went to nibble Colin’s neck, moaning as they ground against each other-
“Bradley, I-“ His eyes flew open as he crashed back to reality, head swimming as he saw Colin standing at the door, eyes wide, lips parted as they took in his best friend with his hands down his pants. Breath catching in his throat, he closed his eyes, but behind them was Colin and he moaned brokenly.
“Col,” he whimpered, and he thought he heard a door shut, but he was getting too caught up in fantasies again, -his hands undid the tailored slacks easily, moaning as his hand-
Crashing back to reality again, he opened his eyes as something – a hand – held onto his wrist, and it took him a few seconds to comprehend the fact that Colin was standing over him with a hand on his wrist. He shivered as dark blue eyes looked at him intently, and he had to lick his suddenly dry lips, heart stopping as lips latched onto his, warm body straddling him suddenly and it was so hard to breathe.
His body was ahead of him, hands going to Colin’s neck and hair as he reeled from the fact that Colin is kissing him! Arching up, he vainly tried to take control of the hot kisses, but Colin wasn’t having it, biting his lips, a hand going under his shirt as the other held onto his hair forcefully, controlling the kiss. His head swam, feeling as if Colin was stealing his breath.
The hand under his shirt played with his nipples, and he whimpered, helpless under Colin’s onslaught. “Bradley,” Colin moaned, biting a path down to his neck, and he was pliant under Colin, letting himself be adjusted to Colin’s will.
He felt something in his mind snap as he fully realized that this wasn’t a dream, there was colour and Colin’s voice, “Col...” he said huskily, tugging the other’s hair lightly so they could kiss, which had the feeling of scoring a goal, intertwined with all the love he felt for Colin.
“So long,” Colin moaned into his mouth, Irish brogue thick as their breaths mingled. Smiling, he bit into Colin’s tempting bottom lip, making sure to commit the way Colin closed his eyes, lashes fanning his cheeks into his memory. The hand under his shirt traced nonsensical patterns onto his stomach, and he shuddered, head thumping back onto the pillow as it went lower, playing with the bottom of his top, scrunching it up and then going lower. Moaning, he played with the bottom of Colin’s shirt, and he somehow managed the co-ordination to take it off. Managing to open his eyes, he drank in the sight of lean muscles, light dusting of dark hair, and Colin looking up through his lashes. Colin smiled, hands taking off his shirt in return, eyes raking over him with such an intense look it almost was physical.
Too focused on Colin’s eyes, he gasped as a hand cupped him through his pants, eyes fluttering shut as heat surged through him, and this was all too intense-
“What were you thinking about?” Colin whispered against his neck, hand going inside his pants and how was he meant to answer that? “Come on, tell me,” Colin commanded, biting his ear.
He was speaking before he was fully aware, “you, you, always you, Col-“ he managed brokenly, hands roaming Colin’s body until they got to his jeans, and Colin helped him with undoing them. His hand hastily went into Colin’s jeans, and they arched against each other, jerking each other off, moaning nonsense as they wound each other tighter, and with a particularly satisfying pull to his cock he gasps as he comes. He sees stars and sunbursts as the world whitewashes, and he can hear Colin muffle a keen and the hand in Colin’s pants are wet with come suddenly, and he pulled his hand out slowly, a part of him still in disbelief of what happened.
“Your face,” Colin husked, kissing him deeply, tongues battling lazily and he felt lighter than air, hand still clutching Colin’s soft hair as they swapped lazy, happy filled kisses. “So,” Colin began cheekily, “what was it about me that got you so worked up again?” And he repressed a shiver, his mind too caught on the accent rather than what he was saying. “Come on,” a hand running up and down his sides, and he was struck dumb by Colin’s neck as he moved to get his discarded shirt, wiping his hand on it. He floated on sensations as Colin came to kiss him, a hand holding his face as the other one took his own hand out of Colin’s pants, gently wiping the come off it. “Tell me!” Colin bit his lip playfully, eyes sparkling.
Thinking back to what Colin was saying before, he gulped, eyes locked onto Colin’s, “that stupid magazine photo shoot you did,” he growled, somehow managing to switch their positions, and he was very happy with the image of Colin under him. Colin laughed into the ensuing kisses, and this was a much better way to spend his day off.
[Fin]
