Fic: Blame the Pie (Bradley/Colin)
Author/Artist: Alaerys
Title: Blame the pie
Word Count: 4,350
Rating: NC-17
Warnings/Spoilers: One boy and another boy doing things that involve touching and stuff. And pie.
Summary: It all started with the bloody pie... Bradley/Colin/Pie
Author's Note: *facepaw* Don't ask. I was under the influence of wine and pie and boykissing porn. I do not own Colin, (boo) or Bradley, (EPIC BOO) or anyone who has any correlation with the show "Merlin". I also don't own a dog. Or a reticulated chipmunk. Just sayin'. Also, beta'd by the loverly
dysonrules and 
agt_league, even though Jan's totes not into the fandom. My F-list is made of awesome.
It all started with pie. Such an innocent piece of dessert, yet such an evil inciter of debauchery, Bradley was sure of it. In fact, when he took the time to really mull it over, he was certain that pie had consciousness. Each type of pie had its own personality. Apple pie was a warm, comforting friend. Lemon pie was a funny, adventurous flirt. Pumpkin pie was a cheap, tawdry hussy. Although, he couldn’t blame the pumpkin. It was, of course, the fault of the Cinnamon. He knew this because it was Colin’s favorite topping… on everything. And he was disturbingly erotic when he was caught in the throes of Cinnamon worship, or so Bradley thought. So naturally, Colin would lick his pink tongue over lips dusted with Cinnamon, drawn into the siren call that the dastardly spice emitted. He would sprinkle more of the dust over cups of his coffee. He would close his eyes and moan ecstatically over the hints he tasted in anything that bore it. Including pumpkin pie. Especially pumpkin pie.
And Bradley would fuse his eyes to Colin and pretend to not be enjoying watching Colin enjoying Cinnamon. If he bothered to think about it, which of course he didn’t, he was jealous of the Cinnamon. Colin displayed such enthusiastic throes over the minutest amount of it, yet he barely acknowledged Bradley during his little erotic sessions. Who happened, by the way, to be wearing new trousers that were distressingly taut across the back, which Colin wasn’t noticing since he was so enthralled with his bloody pie. The part that drove Bradley completely nutters was the fact that no one else seemed to see anything odd about Colin’s Cinnamon fascination. Which meant that they were also under its spell. Bradley was of the mind that he was the only person on the planet that hadn’t fallen into Cinnamon-submission. So when Colin suggested they go up to his room to go over lines, Bradley was mollified and almost forgave Colin for his transgressions.
Until Colin pulled out the bloody pie. With whipped cream. He looked at Bradley in question as he cut a piece and Bradley gurgled between clenched teeth. Colin took that as a ‘Yes, I would very much like to be drawn into the Cinnamon cult and have no will of my own – only living to serve that which is Cinnamon’ and cut him a generous piece accordingly. He slathered the top of it with whipped cream, which was blessedly Cinnamon-free and handed it to Bradley, who took it numbly and glared down at the offending object. And silently cursed whoever had invented pumpkin pie in the first place. He sat down on the unoccupied bed in Colin’s room and accepted the extra script copy Colin always had in his room for when he had Bradley over to do lines. He placed the wretched piece of pie on the bed and did his best to ignore it. Which would have been easy if he wasn’t sitting across from a Worshiper of the Cult of Cinnamon.
Bradley almost groaned along with Colin as he pulled a now-empty fork from his mouth, darting the tip of his tongue out to lick away the remnants of pie from what Bradley could have sworn was a polished clean utensil. Bradley closed his eyes and counted to five, then ten, then opened them and blinked as he noticed Colin giving him a puzzled look. “Let’s get on with it then. “ Which may have come out more gruffly than intended, which Bradley was happy to blame the pie for.
Colin flipped the pages to the scene they were due to shoot tomorrow and began his lines. Bradley quickly fell into the routine they’d established, which involved him reading in his ridiculous Bowie impression from ‘Labyrinth’ and which had Colin rolling his eyes and reading his lines as Hoggle. Through the entire session, Bradley had to fight down the urge to grab the plate out of Colin’s hands and throw it against the wall. Thankfully, Colin finished his pie and gave his attention to Bradley. Almost. His eyes kept straying to the untouched piece beside an extremely irritated blond. Bradley watched as he licked his lips, “Are you going to finish that?”
And that was it. The last of his control went out the window, almost being followed by a plate and pumpkin pastry. “Am I going to – What the bloody hell is it with you and bloody pie? You practically have an orgasm every time you get near it and I’ll tell you something, I’ve had enough.”
“You’ve had enough pie?”
Bradley growled, “Pie! Cinnamon! Anything to do with either of them, yes! Yes I’ve had enough! And I’ve had enough of you having it!”
Colin blinked. “I’m not allowed pie?”
Since Colin wasn’t normally this dense, Bradley could only assume that it was the wicked workings of the Cinnamon on his poor brain. “No. No pie. Not anywhere near me. Or Cinnamon on your coffee, or anything else you douse it on. I’ve had quite enough of watching you get sucked into the cult.”
“I’m in a cult? A Cinnamon cult? It doesn’t involve Kool-Aid, does it?” Colin kept a level gaze with Bradley.
Bradley narrowed his eyes at Colin. “Don’t get cute with me.”
Colin grinned, “Too late.”
Bradley wondered if it was possible for one's head to explode from sheer frustration. He'd heard about spontaneous combustion and considered it quite possible that those poor bastards were victims of smart-mouthed imps such as the one in front of him. He narrowed his eyes and pointed a finger at said grinning-imp, “Look here, you sassy little tart, I've had quite enough of this. You might have everyone else fooled, but I'm on to you.”
Colin's grin got wider, if that were humanly possible. “Did you just call me a 'tart'?”
“And rightly so. I can't think of anyone more deserving of the moniker. You, Colin Morgan, “ Bradley continued as he stalked over to Colin on the bed, finger still leveled and eyes still narrowed, “are the reigning tart champion. Every tart in the country will bow in awe and wonder at your utter tartness. Parades will be held and there will be a 'Colin Morgan' tart named after you, the High-Tart. And knowing you, it'll be a bloody Cinnamon tart.” Bradley punctuated the 'Cinnamon' with a poke at Colin's chest.
Colin looked down at the finger jabbing him, then brought his gaze back up to the now extremely irritated blue eyes drilling into him. “I'm the High-Tart of the Cinnamon Cult? Bradley, are you alright? Did you hit your head on something? Eat any candy from strangers? You've been in a very... tense mood today.”
“Of course I'm in a tense mood, you bloody idiot. You have no idea how difficult it is to sit here and watch you-” Bradley stopped. He couldn't believe that he'd actually worked himself up enough to almost admit to Colin that he fancied him. Well, more than fancied him, if he were being honest. But he was Bradley James, and Bradley James never acknowledged anything that may or may not lead to a potentially embarrassing situation... willingly.
His reaction was not lost on Colin, Bradley noticed, who seemed to have dragged himself out of his Cinnamon stupor long enough to be painfully observant. And being Colin Morgan, he would pick the most wretched time to have wrestled his brain back. And he would also just have to make some wise-ass remark, since Bradley was certain that Colin had been forged in some deep, dark, evil pit with the sole intention of driving him, Bradley James, stark raving mad. “I find it hard to believe that you're having difficulties 'watching' me since every time I happen to look over at you, you're staring at me.”
Bradley was not blushing. Not even a little. Just because it felt like his face was on fire in no way meant that he was blushing. Because he didn't blush. Girls did that. And Colin. Only when Colin blushed, it refused to stay confined to his face, instead choosing to migrate to his ears. Which Bradley found ridiculously adorable, not that he'd admit it. To anyone. Least of all Colin. “I do not stare at you, Colin. I merely happen to notice when you're being particularly loud... or clumsy. Can't blame me for wanting to witness whatever calamity you seem to constantly be in the middle of.”
“Then why is I catch you not-staring at me when I'm sitting quietly reading my lines? Or when I'm enjoying a lovely cup of coffee, or an especially delicious piece of pie?” Colin kept his eyes on Bradley, who was still in no way, shape or form, blushing. “And why are you blushing?”
“I'm not blushing! I'm... hot. It's very hot in here. Probably because you're so wretchedly thin and have no meat on your bones, you always have it so bloody hot in your rooms. I'm flushed. F-L-U-S-H-E-D. I am not blushing.”
Colin smirked. “The lady doth protest too much, methinks. ”
Bradley gaped. “Are you calling me a girl?” He was quite sure he had no idea how Colin's mind worked in the slightest. It was like trying to talk to a spindly, vegetarian creature that someone had shaved down and taught English to. It could mimic speech, but neither it nor the poor hapless souls it conversed with had any idea what the bloody hell it really meant. Bradley contemplated this as a feasible possibility. That, or that Colin had, in fact, been created in a secret government facility and was actually part alien. It would certainly explain the ears. And his uncanny knack to be annoying and utterly adorable at the same time.
Colin rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Oh for crying out loud, Bradley. Just admit you like me. I know you like me. Practically everyone knows that you like me. Which is not a problem since I like you back. And you're obviously going completely insane from sexual frustration.”
Bradley heard the first four sentences before his brain twitched. “What? WHAT?! You think I- everyone thinks I-? Wait, what do you mean 'everyone knows'?”
“They pretty much put two and two together when you try to brain our stunt coordinator during your practice bouts every time I get a bruise or two during one of my rare bouts. That and your habit of looking at anyone who gets too chummy with me like you want to set them on fire. Which I have to say, is a little endearing.”
“I- what?” Bradley shut his mouth and thought back over the last few minutes of conversation. He finally registered what Colin had said after the whole 'everyone knows you like me, nyah nyah you silly pooft' spiel. “You like me back?”
“Of course, you silly arse. Why else would I put up with your being a complete and utter mental? Cinnamon Cult? Really?” Colin gave Bradley that look of incredulous affection that always gave him little flutters in his stomach.
So, of course, Bradley had to squelch the fluttery feeling, “You seriously need to stop having so much of that bloody spice. Cinnamon is made of pure evil. In fact, if you were to go to hell, I doubt it'd smell like brimstone and sulfur like everyone says. It'd smell like Cinnamon.” Colin was still looking at him with that look and it was making the fluttering larger, warmer.
Quicker than thought, Colin jumped up and pushed Bradley down onto the opposite bed, pinning him while straddling him. “I’m failing to see where this hatred of Cinnamon comes from. I mean, you haven’t even tried your pie.” Jabbing a fork into the seemingly innocent pie, he proffered a piece to Bradley. Who clamped his lips together and glared up at Colin. “Oh come on, Bradley. It’s good. It really is. At least try some of the whipped cream...” Bradley could have sworn he saw a mischievous gleam in Colin’s eye, a thought which was wiped from his mind as a finger laden with whipped cream was pressed against his mouth.
“What do you th-,” was cut short as the finger slipped over his lips and into his mouth, smearing the sweet cream over his palate and seeming to caress his tongue before it started to remove itself. A fact Bradley was not having, thank you very much. He wrapped his tongue around the finger, lathing the remaining cream from it and sucking gently, pulling it back into the confines of his mouth. Colin’s breath hitched and his eyes widened, but he allowed it. He also settled more comfortably over Bradley, resting more on Bradley’s torso than using his legs to keep himself lifted off. Bradley had absolutely no problem with this and brought a hand up to maneuver Colin’s, not taking his eyes from the intense blue gaze directed at him. He brought his other hand up to rest on Colin’s hip, sliding his thumb in small circles over the shallow dent. This proved to be an excellent decision when Colin threw his head back and ground his hips against Bradley’s, causing him to groan and nip the finger still dancing in his mouth.
Colin's weight shifted as he leaned down and licked Bradley's lips around his captive finger. Bradley was quick to let the digit slip from his mouth as he moved his head over to rub tentatively at Colin's. He felt a puff of breath before Colin pressed into him, licking against the line of Bradley's mouth before sliding his tongue into where his finger had previously been. And Bradley could taste the Cinnamon coating Colin's tongue. And at that moment, he thought it was the most amazing flavor in the world. His lips moved against Colin's, which felt better than how he'd fantasized, softer. Even if this was as far as it went -God no, please don't stop- this definitely beat wanking to his lurid thoughts in the shower before having to head off to set and see the reality. This put the flutters to shame. His body danced with electric tingles when he felt Colin's hand slide down his side, when those ridiculously nimble fingers reached under his shirt and slowly and firmly made their way back up his naked flesh. He whimpered into Colin's mouth when they found an already peaked nipple and rolled it gently between them. He moved his own hands from their death-grip on Colin's hips and slid them up the back of his shirt, rasping his nails as he went. He was rewarded with the body above him shuddering and his lip being nipped. He felt Colin start to raise up and for a brief second thought about tightening his hold and not letting him. He didn't, but he kept his hands stubbornly under Colin's shirt. This proved to be a wonderful idea, since as Colin rose, Bradley's hands were drawn to his stomach. He felt the muscles under his hands twitching and raised his gaze reluctantly up to Colin's face.
Colin's cheeks were flushed and, bless them, so were his ears. He reached his hands down to where his shirt was raised from Bradley refusing to remove his, and grabbing the edge of the evil flesh-covering shirt, he lifted it up and off. Bradley sucked in a breath and ran his own hands up the chest in front of him, brushing light fingers over the sparse patch of black hair. His activities were foiled when Colin decided to grab one of his hands and bring it to his mouth. He locked his eyes on Colin's mouth as his finger was extended and pressed against those softer-than-they-looked lips. As that teasing pink tongue flicked out and wet the tip of his finger. As those lips and that tongue wrapped themselves around it. Bradley felt unreasonably jealous of that finger for the minutest of seconds before the warm, wet heat seemed to travel down the length of his arm and straight to his cock. His eyes fluttered closed and he bucked his hips up against Colin. Who was managing to grin impishly around Bradley's finger and continued to alternate between sucking his finger and circling his tongue intricately around it. Bradley could of sworn he actually heard his cock screaming in a jealous rage. Bradley growled up at the man above him, "Colin..."
Colin slid Bradley's finger out of his mouth, letting a wet 'pop' sound at the end of it. "Bradley...?" The cheeky tart had the audacity to grin down at him. A grin which quickly turned into a wide-eyed look of surprise as Bradley had had quite enough of the teasing, thank you, and had flip-rolled Colin over. They ended up with Colin on his back and Bradley snugly resting between his legs. "Slightly impatient, aren't we?"
Being in the superior position, Bradley allowed a himself a smile as he began to bend his head down to Colin's. "As you previously stated, it must be due to my sexually frustrated induced insanity. Which is a state I'm thinking to remedy very, very soon." Mouths met and talking ceased, blessedly, for Bradley realized his blood had vacated his brain quite a while ago and was now residing in a very jealous cock. It was a wonder he'd been capable of speech considering the force with which it seemed to be exerting against his woebegone trouser-zip. He tried to wriggle into a more comfortable position, but was stalled by the gasp from Colin, followed quickly by two hands grasping his arse and holding it as hips were rotated under him. Bradley raised up on his arms and blinked down at Colin. "If you don't cut that out, I'm going to make a mess in my bloody pants."
Colin smiled a smile of completely feigned innocence up at him, "Then you'd better take them off, hadn't you?"
Bradley thought that was the best idea in the history of ideas, including sliced bread. Although, how sliced bread had found it's way into the annuls of 'great ideas' never ceased to perplex him. He stood up from the bed and lifted his shirt off over his head, lowering his hands to work at the fly and proceeded to shuck those and his boxer briefs off as well. "I'm feeling slightly under dressed here."
"Well by all means, we can't have that now, can we?" Colin lowered his hands to his own fly and undid it, slowly shimmying off his pants. Bradley was extremely impatient, as has been already noted, and grabbed the ends of the legs of Colin's pants, tugging them off and throwing them somewhere in the vicinity of 'over there'. Colin laughed, which quickly turned into a stifled moan as Bradley reclaimed his very wonderful spot between Colin's thighs. He ran his hands up the pale thighs, skimming over the shallow dips at his pelvis, barely letting his thumbs brush against Colin's flushed cock. He was rewarded with Colin's eyes closing and his head tilting back against the bed, his lower lip being held between his teeth to quiet another moan. Bradley quickly bent down and licked what he could of the lip, wanting to hear every sound Colin could make. Every sound he made him make. He braced himself on one arm as he reached the other down, grasping Colin's hip. Holding it in place as he rocked himself once against the body under him. He felt the hands on his arse again and grinned against Colin's mouth.
"I thought I was the impatient one."
"Shut up and do that again." Colin lifted his head to reclaim Bradley's smirking lips, pulling the ass he had noticed, very much so, earlier that day. It had been a mini-torment each time Bradley had done something he hadn't known was a blatant attempt to get Colin's attention. Because Bradley always had been quite good at being noticed. It was almost daunting when he turned this ability on to just one person. Almost like having an overbearingly adorably protective sun turned on him. A sun that had delicious lips and a lovely cock that was currently being extremely affectionate and chummy with his. A fact that Colin noticed and was very appreciative of. He slipped one hand in between them and managed to mostly circle both of them with it. Bradley jerked his head up and stilled.
"That might not be a good idea. I'm alread-GOD!" Bradley's protests were interrupted by Colin disagreeing and proving that yes, it was the most brilliant idea in the entire universe. Completely eclipsing his earlier brilliant idea of no pants. Sliced bread was no longer in the equation. "Colin... I can't -UNF- that's going to make -sweet christ- don't want to -yes, yes I do- finish yet -fuyah- please!"
Colin slowed his hand but kept it firmly circled around them both, eyes drinking in the sheen of sweat over Bradley's face and chest, the flush that had spread from his face to his neck and to part of his chest, the unfocused look in his lovely eyes and the pulse of the erect and straining cock against not only his hand but his own pulsing and aching prick. "Tell me you don't want it and I'll stop."
Bradley shook his head to clear it and stared at Colin. "I want it. I want it very much. But I want more than a quick hand-job."
Colin breathed a laugh. "That's why it's always best to get the first orgasm over and out of the way before getting down to the nitty-gritty."
"The first?" Bradley's eyebrows rose up and a slow smile spread across his face.
"I've been just as frustrated as you, Bradley James. Now that I have you naked and willing, I fully intend to take advantage of the situation. And that includes lots and lots of sex." Colin reached his non-busy hand up to run a finger along the line of Bradley's jaw. "Lots."
Bradley paused for a billionth of a second before crushing his lips to Colin's and thrusting his hips, letting his cock slide through Colin's hand and feeling the soft steel of Colin's dick rubbing against his own. He felt Colin's grip tighten and his own hips start rising up to meet Bradley's. The feel of Colin's fist and his dick rubbing against Bradley in addition to the now-burning tingles through his body along with the nimble tongue darting in and out of his mouth added up to a very happy conclusion. Which ended up all over Colin's stomach. Along with the his own happy conclusion, which made for a very messy Colin. A very contented, smiling, lazy and messy Colin. A lovely partner for an equally contended, smiling and lazy Bradley. Who, in true gentlemanly fashion, joined Colin in messiness by dropping his arms and landing heavily on him. A squelch would have been heard if not for the almost feminine squeal that Colin emitted. "Good God, you weigh a ton. Get off."
Bradley smiled indulgently at the ineffectual prodding and complacently rolled off Colin. "You're a mess."
Colin rolled his eyes. "No thanks to you."
"It's not all mine."
Colin's lips twitched. "True. Either way, I'm in dire need of a shower. And thanks to your belly-flop, so are you."
Bradley grinned over at his co-star. "I'm up for that."
"I can see that," grinned Colin as he noticed Bradley's quickly recovering prick. "You're as insatiable with sex as you are with everything else, aren't you?"
Bradley rolled onto his side and reached a hand over to lightly cup Colin's face. "That's something you're going to have to find out, isn't it?"
Colin smiled and turned his head to kiss the open palm. "That's something I'm looking forward to finding out. Now, time for that shower." He stood up and attempted to tug a grumbling Bradley off the bed and towards the bathroom.
Bradley ran his tongue over his teeth. He had an intense desire to brush them since he was more than certain of where this night was going. "Can I use your toothbrush? I don't want to get dressed to go over to grab mine."
Colin nodded as they entered the bathroom. "Sure, it's over there." He pointed in the vague direction of the sink as he leaned over to turn on the shower taps. Bradley turned and found the blue toothbrush.
"Great, now where's your toothpaste?"
"In the drawer, genius."
Bradley rolled his eyes at Colin, who remained blissfully ignorant of that fact as he stepped into the stream of water. Bradley fumbled without looking at the drawer, eyes tracing the tracks of water running over Colin's naked form. He felt a tube-like thing and looked down to undo the cap. And groaned. "Cinnamon toothpaste, Colin? Really?"
Colin laughed and flicked water at him from the open curtain. "Get over it, you drama queen. Hurry up and get in here," said as he ran his hands down his body and cupped himself lightly while keeping his gaze locked on Bradley's.
Bradley brushed his teeth in record time, barely even noticing the taint of Cinnamon as he scrabbled to get into the shower.
Which proved to be the perfect start to a perfect night. Even with the Cinnamon.
~End~
Title: Blame the pie
Word Count: 4,350
Rating: NC-17
Warnings/Spoilers: One boy and another boy doing things that involve touching and stuff. And pie.
Summary: It all started with the bloody pie... Bradley/Colin/Pie
Author's Note: *facepaw* Don't ask. I was under the influence of wine and pie and boykissing porn. I do not own Colin, (boo) or Bradley, (EPIC BOO) or anyone who has any correlation with the show "Merlin". I also don't own a dog. Or a reticulated chipmunk. Just sayin'. Also, beta'd by the loverly
agt_league, even though Jan's totes not into the fandom. My F-list is made of awesome.It all started with pie. Such an innocent piece of dessert, yet such an evil inciter of debauchery, Bradley was sure of it. In fact, when he took the time to really mull it over, he was certain that pie had consciousness. Each type of pie had its own personality. Apple pie was a warm, comforting friend. Lemon pie was a funny, adventurous flirt. Pumpkin pie was a cheap, tawdry hussy. Although, he couldn’t blame the pumpkin. It was, of course, the fault of the Cinnamon. He knew this because it was Colin’s favorite topping… on everything. And he was disturbingly erotic when he was caught in the throes of Cinnamon worship, or so Bradley thought. So naturally, Colin would lick his pink tongue over lips dusted with Cinnamon, drawn into the siren call that the dastardly spice emitted. He would sprinkle more of the dust over cups of his coffee. He would close his eyes and moan ecstatically over the hints he tasted in anything that bore it. Including pumpkin pie. Especially pumpkin pie.
And Bradley would fuse his eyes to Colin and pretend to not be enjoying watching Colin enjoying Cinnamon. If he bothered to think about it, which of course he didn’t, he was jealous of the Cinnamon. Colin displayed such enthusiastic throes over the minutest amount of it, yet he barely acknowledged Bradley during his little erotic sessions. Who happened, by the way, to be wearing new trousers that were distressingly taut across the back, which Colin wasn’t noticing since he was so enthralled with his bloody pie. The part that drove Bradley completely nutters was the fact that no one else seemed to see anything odd about Colin’s Cinnamon fascination. Which meant that they were also under its spell. Bradley was of the mind that he was the only person on the planet that hadn’t fallen into Cinnamon-submission. So when Colin suggested they go up to his room to go over lines, Bradley was mollified and almost forgave Colin for his transgressions.
Until Colin pulled out the bloody pie. With whipped cream. He looked at Bradley in question as he cut a piece and Bradley gurgled between clenched teeth. Colin took that as a ‘Yes, I would very much like to be drawn into the Cinnamon cult and have no will of my own – only living to serve that which is Cinnamon’ and cut him a generous piece accordingly. He slathered the top of it with whipped cream, which was blessedly Cinnamon-free and handed it to Bradley, who took it numbly and glared down at the offending object. And silently cursed whoever had invented pumpkin pie in the first place. He sat down on the unoccupied bed in Colin’s room and accepted the extra script copy Colin always had in his room for when he had Bradley over to do lines. He placed the wretched piece of pie on the bed and did his best to ignore it. Which would have been easy if he wasn’t sitting across from a Worshiper of the Cult of Cinnamon.
Bradley almost groaned along with Colin as he pulled a now-empty fork from his mouth, darting the tip of his tongue out to lick away the remnants of pie from what Bradley could have sworn was a polished clean utensil. Bradley closed his eyes and counted to five, then ten, then opened them and blinked as he noticed Colin giving him a puzzled look. “Let’s get on with it then. “ Which may have come out more gruffly than intended, which Bradley was happy to blame the pie for.
Colin flipped the pages to the scene they were due to shoot tomorrow and began his lines. Bradley quickly fell into the routine they’d established, which involved him reading in his ridiculous Bowie impression from ‘Labyrinth’ and which had Colin rolling his eyes and reading his lines as Hoggle. Through the entire session, Bradley had to fight down the urge to grab the plate out of Colin’s hands and throw it against the wall. Thankfully, Colin finished his pie and gave his attention to Bradley. Almost. His eyes kept straying to the untouched piece beside an extremely irritated blond. Bradley watched as he licked his lips, “Are you going to finish that?”
And that was it. The last of his control went out the window, almost being followed by a plate and pumpkin pastry. “Am I going to – What the bloody hell is it with you and bloody pie? You practically have an orgasm every time you get near it and I’ll tell you something, I’ve had enough.”
“You’ve had enough pie?”
Bradley growled, “Pie! Cinnamon! Anything to do with either of them, yes! Yes I’ve had enough! And I’ve had enough of you having it!”
Colin blinked. “I’m not allowed pie?”
Since Colin wasn’t normally this dense, Bradley could only assume that it was the wicked workings of the Cinnamon on his poor brain. “No. No pie. Not anywhere near me. Or Cinnamon on your coffee, or anything else you douse it on. I’ve had quite enough of watching you get sucked into the cult.”
“I’m in a cult? A Cinnamon cult? It doesn’t involve Kool-Aid, does it?” Colin kept a level gaze with Bradley.
Bradley narrowed his eyes at Colin. “Don’t get cute with me.”
Colin grinned, “Too late.”
Bradley wondered if it was possible for one's head to explode from sheer frustration. He'd heard about spontaneous combustion and considered it quite possible that those poor bastards were victims of smart-mouthed imps such as the one in front of him. He narrowed his eyes and pointed a finger at said grinning-imp, “Look here, you sassy little tart, I've had quite enough of this. You might have everyone else fooled, but I'm on to you.”
Colin's grin got wider, if that were humanly possible. “Did you just call me a 'tart'?”
“And rightly so. I can't think of anyone more deserving of the moniker. You, Colin Morgan, “ Bradley continued as he stalked over to Colin on the bed, finger still leveled and eyes still narrowed, “are the reigning tart champion. Every tart in the country will bow in awe and wonder at your utter tartness. Parades will be held and there will be a 'Colin Morgan' tart named after you, the High-Tart. And knowing you, it'll be a bloody Cinnamon tart.” Bradley punctuated the 'Cinnamon' with a poke at Colin's chest.
Colin looked down at the finger jabbing him, then brought his gaze back up to the now extremely irritated blue eyes drilling into him. “I'm the High-Tart of the Cinnamon Cult? Bradley, are you alright? Did you hit your head on something? Eat any candy from strangers? You've been in a very... tense mood today.”
“Of course I'm in a tense mood, you bloody idiot. You have no idea how difficult it is to sit here and watch you-” Bradley stopped. He couldn't believe that he'd actually worked himself up enough to almost admit to Colin that he fancied him. Well, more than fancied him, if he were being honest. But he was Bradley James, and Bradley James never acknowledged anything that may or may not lead to a potentially embarrassing situation... willingly.
His reaction was not lost on Colin, Bradley noticed, who seemed to have dragged himself out of his Cinnamon stupor long enough to be painfully observant. And being Colin Morgan, he would pick the most wretched time to have wrestled his brain back. And he would also just have to make some wise-ass remark, since Bradley was certain that Colin had been forged in some deep, dark, evil pit with the sole intention of driving him, Bradley James, stark raving mad. “I find it hard to believe that you're having difficulties 'watching' me since every time I happen to look over at you, you're staring at me.”
Bradley was not blushing. Not even a little. Just because it felt like his face was on fire in no way meant that he was blushing. Because he didn't blush. Girls did that. And Colin. Only when Colin blushed, it refused to stay confined to his face, instead choosing to migrate to his ears. Which Bradley found ridiculously adorable, not that he'd admit it. To anyone. Least of all Colin. “I do not stare at you, Colin. I merely happen to notice when you're being particularly loud... or clumsy. Can't blame me for wanting to witness whatever calamity you seem to constantly be in the middle of.”
“Then why is I catch you not-staring at me when I'm sitting quietly reading my lines? Or when I'm enjoying a lovely cup of coffee, or an especially delicious piece of pie?” Colin kept his eyes on Bradley, who was still in no way, shape or form, blushing. “And why are you blushing?”
“I'm not blushing! I'm... hot. It's very hot in here. Probably because you're so wretchedly thin and have no meat on your bones, you always have it so bloody hot in your rooms. I'm flushed. F-L-U-S-H-E-D. I am not blushing.”
Colin smirked. “The lady doth protest too much, methinks. ”
Bradley gaped. “Are you calling me a girl?” He was quite sure he had no idea how Colin's mind worked in the slightest. It was like trying to talk to a spindly, vegetarian creature that someone had shaved down and taught English to. It could mimic speech, but neither it nor the poor hapless souls it conversed with had any idea what the bloody hell it really meant. Bradley contemplated this as a feasible possibility. That, or that Colin had, in fact, been created in a secret government facility and was actually part alien. It would certainly explain the ears. And his uncanny knack to be annoying and utterly adorable at the same time.
Colin rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Oh for crying out loud, Bradley. Just admit you like me. I know you like me. Practically everyone knows that you like me. Which is not a problem since I like you back. And you're obviously going completely insane from sexual frustration.”
Bradley heard the first four sentences before his brain twitched. “What? WHAT?! You think I- everyone thinks I-? Wait, what do you mean 'everyone knows'?”
“They pretty much put two and two together when you try to brain our stunt coordinator during your practice bouts every time I get a bruise or two during one of my rare bouts. That and your habit of looking at anyone who gets too chummy with me like you want to set them on fire. Which I have to say, is a little endearing.”
“I- what?” Bradley shut his mouth and thought back over the last few minutes of conversation. He finally registered what Colin had said after the whole 'everyone knows you like me, nyah nyah you silly pooft' spiel. “You like me back?”
“Of course, you silly arse. Why else would I put up with your being a complete and utter mental? Cinnamon Cult? Really?” Colin gave Bradley that look of incredulous affection that always gave him little flutters in his stomach.
So, of course, Bradley had to squelch the fluttery feeling, “You seriously need to stop having so much of that bloody spice. Cinnamon is made of pure evil. In fact, if you were to go to hell, I doubt it'd smell like brimstone and sulfur like everyone says. It'd smell like Cinnamon.” Colin was still looking at him with that look and it was making the fluttering larger, warmer.
Quicker than thought, Colin jumped up and pushed Bradley down onto the opposite bed, pinning him while straddling him. “I’m failing to see where this hatred of Cinnamon comes from. I mean, you haven’t even tried your pie.” Jabbing a fork into the seemingly innocent pie, he proffered a piece to Bradley. Who clamped his lips together and glared up at Colin. “Oh come on, Bradley. It’s good. It really is. At least try some of the whipped cream...” Bradley could have sworn he saw a mischievous gleam in Colin’s eye, a thought which was wiped from his mind as a finger laden with whipped cream was pressed against his mouth.
“What do you th-,” was cut short as the finger slipped over his lips and into his mouth, smearing the sweet cream over his palate and seeming to caress his tongue before it started to remove itself. A fact Bradley was not having, thank you very much. He wrapped his tongue around the finger, lathing the remaining cream from it and sucking gently, pulling it back into the confines of his mouth. Colin’s breath hitched and his eyes widened, but he allowed it. He also settled more comfortably over Bradley, resting more on Bradley’s torso than using his legs to keep himself lifted off. Bradley had absolutely no problem with this and brought a hand up to maneuver Colin’s, not taking his eyes from the intense blue gaze directed at him. He brought his other hand up to rest on Colin’s hip, sliding his thumb in small circles over the shallow dent. This proved to be an excellent decision when Colin threw his head back and ground his hips against Bradley’s, causing him to groan and nip the finger still dancing in his mouth.
Colin's weight shifted as he leaned down and licked Bradley's lips around his captive finger. Bradley was quick to let the digit slip from his mouth as he moved his head over to rub tentatively at Colin's. He felt a puff of breath before Colin pressed into him, licking against the line of Bradley's mouth before sliding his tongue into where his finger had previously been. And Bradley could taste the Cinnamon coating Colin's tongue. And at that moment, he thought it was the most amazing flavor in the world. His lips moved against Colin's, which felt better than how he'd fantasized, softer. Even if this was as far as it went -God no, please don't stop- this definitely beat wanking to his lurid thoughts in the shower before having to head off to set and see the reality. This put the flutters to shame. His body danced with electric tingles when he felt Colin's hand slide down his side, when those ridiculously nimble fingers reached under his shirt and slowly and firmly made their way back up his naked flesh. He whimpered into Colin's mouth when they found an already peaked nipple and rolled it gently between them. He moved his own hands from their death-grip on Colin's hips and slid them up the back of his shirt, rasping his nails as he went. He was rewarded with the body above him shuddering and his lip being nipped. He felt Colin start to raise up and for a brief second thought about tightening his hold and not letting him. He didn't, but he kept his hands stubbornly under Colin's shirt. This proved to be a wonderful idea, since as Colin rose, Bradley's hands were drawn to his stomach. He felt the muscles under his hands twitching and raised his gaze reluctantly up to Colin's face.
Colin's cheeks were flushed and, bless them, so were his ears. He reached his hands down to where his shirt was raised from Bradley refusing to remove his, and grabbing the edge of the evil flesh-covering shirt, he lifted it up and off. Bradley sucked in a breath and ran his own hands up the chest in front of him, brushing light fingers over the sparse patch of black hair. His activities were foiled when Colin decided to grab one of his hands and bring it to his mouth. He locked his eyes on Colin's mouth as his finger was extended and pressed against those softer-than-they-looked lips. As that teasing pink tongue flicked out and wet the tip of his finger. As those lips and that tongue wrapped themselves around it. Bradley felt unreasonably jealous of that finger for the minutest of seconds before the warm, wet heat seemed to travel down the length of his arm and straight to his cock. His eyes fluttered closed and he bucked his hips up against Colin. Who was managing to grin impishly around Bradley's finger and continued to alternate between sucking his finger and circling his tongue intricately around it. Bradley could of sworn he actually heard his cock screaming in a jealous rage. Bradley growled up at the man above him, "Colin..."
Colin slid Bradley's finger out of his mouth, letting a wet 'pop' sound at the end of it. "Bradley...?" The cheeky tart had the audacity to grin down at him. A grin which quickly turned into a wide-eyed look of surprise as Bradley had had quite enough of the teasing, thank you, and had flip-rolled Colin over. They ended up with Colin on his back and Bradley snugly resting between his legs. "Slightly impatient, aren't we?"
Being in the superior position, Bradley allowed a himself a smile as he began to bend his head down to Colin's. "As you previously stated, it must be due to my sexually frustrated induced insanity. Which is a state I'm thinking to remedy very, very soon." Mouths met and talking ceased, blessedly, for Bradley realized his blood had vacated his brain quite a while ago and was now residing in a very jealous cock. It was a wonder he'd been capable of speech considering the force with which it seemed to be exerting against his woebegone trouser-zip. He tried to wriggle into a more comfortable position, but was stalled by the gasp from Colin, followed quickly by two hands grasping his arse and holding it as hips were rotated under him. Bradley raised up on his arms and blinked down at Colin. "If you don't cut that out, I'm going to make a mess in my bloody pants."
Colin smiled a smile of completely feigned innocence up at him, "Then you'd better take them off, hadn't you?"
Bradley thought that was the best idea in the history of ideas, including sliced bread. Although, how sliced bread had found it's way into the annuls of 'great ideas' never ceased to perplex him. He stood up from the bed and lifted his shirt off over his head, lowering his hands to work at the fly and proceeded to shuck those and his boxer briefs off as well. "I'm feeling slightly under dressed here."
"Well by all means, we can't have that now, can we?" Colin lowered his hands to his own fly and undid it, slowly shimmying off his pants. Bradley was extremely impatient, as has been already noted, and grabbed the ends of the legs of Colin's pants, tugging them off and throwing them somewhere in the vicinity of 'over there'. Colin laughed, which quickly turned into a stifled moan as Bradley reclaimed his very wonderful spot between Colin's thighs. He ran his hands up the pale thighs, skimming over the shallow dips at his pelvis, barely letting his thumbs brush against Colin's flushed cock. He was rewarded with Colin's eyes closing and his head tilting back against the bed, his lower lip being held between his teeth to quiet another moan. Bradley quickly bent down and licked what he could of the lip, wanting to hear every sound Colin could make. Every sound he made him make. He braced himself on one arm as he reached the other down, grasping Colin's hip. Holding it in place as he rocked himself once against the body under him. He felt the hands on his arse again and grinned against Colin's mouth.
"I thought I was the impatient one."
"Shut up and do that again." Colin lifted his head to reclaim Bradley's smirking lips, pulling the ass he had noticed, very much so, earlier that day. It had been a mini-torment each time Bradley had done something he hadn't known was a blatant attempt to get Colin's attention. Because Bradley always had been quite good at being noticed. It was almost daunting when he turned this ability on to just one person. Almost like having an overbearingly adorably protective sun turned on him. A sun that had delicious lips and a lovely cock that was currently being extremely affectionate and chummy with his. A fact that Colin noticed and was very appreciative of. He slipped one hand in between them and managed to mostly circle both of them with it. Bradley jerked his head up and stilled.
"That might not be a good idea. I'm alread-GOD!" Bradley's protests were interrupted by Colin disagreeing and proving that yes, it was the most brilliant idea in the entire universe. Completely eclipsing his earlier brilliant idea of no pants. Sliced bread was no longer in the equation. "Colin... I can't -UNF- that's going to make -sweet christ- don't want to -yes, yes I do- finish yet -fuyah- please!"
Colin slowed his hand but kept it firmly circled around them both, eyes drinking in the sheen of sweat over Bradley's face and chest, the flush that had spread from his face to his neck and to part of his chest, the unfocused look in his lovely eyes and the pulse of the erect and straining cock against not only his hand but his own pulsing and aching prick. "Tell me you don't want it and I'll stop."
Bradley shook his head to clear it and stared at Colin. "I want it. I want it very much. But I want more than a quick hand-job."
Colin breathed a laugh. "That's why it's always best to get the first orgasm over and out of the way before getting down to the nitty-gritty."
"The first?" Bradley's eyebrows rose up and a slow smile spread across his face.
"I've been just as frustrated as you, Bradley James. Now that I have you naked and willing, I fully intend to take advantage of the situation. And that includes lots and lots of sex." Colin reached his non-busy hand up to run a finger along the line of Bradley's jaw. "Lots."
Bradley paused for a billionth of a second before crushing his lips to Colin's and thrusting his hips, letting his cock slide through Colin's hand and feeling the soft steel of Colin's dick rubbing against his own. He felt Colin's grip tighten and his own hips start rising up to meet Bradley's. The feel of Colin's fist and his dick rubbing against Bradley in addition to the now-burning tingles through his body along with the nimble tongue darting in and out of his mouth added up to a very happy conclusion. Which ended up all over Colin's stomach. Along with the his own happy conclusion, which made for a very messy Colin. A very contented, smiling, lazy and messy Colin. A lovely partner for an equally contended, smiling and lazy Bradley. Who, in true gentlemanly fashion, joined Colin in messiness by dropping his arms and landing heavily on him. A squelch would have been heard if not for the almost feminine squeal that Colin emitted. "Good God, you weigh a ton. Get off."
Bradley smiled indulgently at the ineffectual prodding and complacently rolled off Colin. "You're a mess."
Colin rolled his eyes. "No thanks to you."
"It's not all mine."
Colin's lips twitched. "True. Either way, I'm in dire need of a shower. And thanks to your belly-flop, so are you."
Bradley grinned over at his co-star. "I'm up for that."
"I can see that," grinned Colin as he noticed Bradley's quickly recovering prick. "You're as insatiable with sex as you are with everything else, aren't you?"
Bradley rolled onto his side and reached a hand over to lightly cup Colin's face. "That's something you're going to have to find out, isn't it?"
Colin smiled and turned his head to kiss the open palm. "That's something I'm looking forward to finding out. Now, time for that shower." He stood up and attempted to tug a grumbling Bradley off the bed and towards the bathroom.
Bradley ran his tongue over his teeth. He had an intense desire to brush them since he was more than certain of where this night was going. "Can I use your toothbrush? I don't want to get dressed to go over to grab mine."
Colin nodded as they entered the bathroom. "Sure, it's over there." He pointed in the vague direction of the sink as he leaned over to turn on the shower taps. Bradley turned and found the blue toothbrush.
"Great, now where's your toothpaste?"
"In the drawer, genius."
Bradley rolled his eyes at Colin, who remained blissfully ignorant of that fact as he stepped into the stream of water. Bradley fumbled without looking at the drawer, eyes tracing the tracks of water running over Colin's naked form. He felt a tube-like thing and looked down to undo the cap. And groaned. "Cinnamon toothpaste, Colin? Really?"
Colin laughed and flicked water at him from the open curtain. "Get over it, you drama queen. Hurry up and get in here," said as he ran his hands down his body and cupped himself lightly while keeping his gaze locked on Bradley's.
Bradley brushed his teeth in record time, barely even noticing the taint of Cinnamon as he scrabbled to get into the shower.
Which proved to be the perfect start to a perfect night. Even with the Cinnamon.
~End~