Archive of Our Own

“I’m sure you’re meant to take the plug out first,” Bradley remarks lazily, from where he’s sprawled in the mess of Colin’s bed.

“That shows how little imagination you’ve got,” says Colin, his hand trailing up the inside of Bradley’s thigh to where the base of the butt plug sits between his arse cheeks. Colin tweaks it with agile fingers, a flick against Bradley’s prostate, and Bradley feels himself getting hard for what must be the third time today.

Bradley clenches and relaxes his muscles round the plug, noticing how his body has loosened around it. He’s watching Colin’s face, and the way his tongue licks slowly along the pink curve of his lower lip is sufficiently distracting that several seconds pass before it occurs to Bradley that Colin might not be joking.

“You’re not really going to try and... Surely there isn’t room?” he says, and Colin looks up, his eyes sparkling.

“Don’t know until you try,” he says, flashing Bradley a filthy grin, and this is suddenly reminiscent of the first weeks of their - well it’s not a relationship exactly, but he doesn’t know what else to call it - when Colin still took delight in shocking him.

They haven’t been fucking for all that long, and Bradley’s still getting used to the feel of Colin pushing inside him, that combination of desire and vulnerability. It’s still a shock when Colin spreads his thighs wide and fucks him, balls deep, breath stuttering against Bradley’s skin.

Colin’s fingers are sliding back and forth over the pucker of his arse, already slick, and Bradley’s question is answered when one of them pushes inside him. To Bradley’s surprise, he barely notices the addition: he was fucked slowly, luxuriantly open this morning, and the butt plug has been in place since. It’s been fun using Colin’s toybox over the past weeks, and they’re making the most of the time in bed before shooting for Series 2 starts next week, so Bradley supposes his body’s got used to a lot of sex.

Colin is moving his finger slowly, circling the butt plug, and then slips another wet finger beside it, which is enough that Bradley feels the slight stretch. He keeps moving his fingers gently, never enough to disturb the plug, and when Colin slides a third finger inside it’s intense enough that Bradley’s breath catches in his chest.

Colin is lounging on the bed between his spread legs, eyes fixed intently on the task at hand and a smile on his face; Bradley can’t decide if the sight of Colin fingering him is cute or just perverted.

“Enjoying yourself?”

“Yeah,” Colin says, glancing up, “aren’t you?”

Bradley could deny it, but he’d be lying and with three of Colin’s fingers twisting around the butt plug like that he suddenly doesn’t have enough spare oxygen to formulate a sentence. Bradley just gasps for a moment, clenching his muscles as a questing fingertip brushes his prostate, and Colin grins like this is just the reaction he’s after.

“It’ll be easier if you shift,” Colin says, removing his fingers, and Bradley is surprised how empty he feels without them, as though his body is moulding itself around Colin.

“What’ll be —” Bradley begins, but Colin shoves at his hip with the gesture which means roll over, and he does, settling comfortably onto his hands and knees.

This can’t possibly work, Bradley tells himself as Colin’s fingers work over his arsehole, bringing the bundle of nerves to tingling attention. No way is there space for Colin to fuck him beside the butt plug. Surely he’s going to remove it.

Colin’s hand is on Bradley’s arse cheek, spreading him open and Bradley feels a nudging at the entrance to his arse, which he assumes is a finger until a hand pulls at his other cheek. Christ, that must be Colin’s cock, but Bradley’s right about the impracticality of this because nothing seems to line up right and the cock slides away repeatedly, skating over his skin. Colin makes a frustrated noise and Bradley feels two fingers slide back into him, before they’re spread wide and Colin presses his cock into the gap.

It seems impossible right up until the moment that the tip of Colin’s cock shifts inside him, a stretch that burns so much that for a moment all he can do is breathe. Colin’s already withdrawn his fingers, and one of his hands lands on Bradley’s back where it makes re-assuring circles between his shoulder blades, as if he were stroking a frightened animal. Which given that Bradley gets bruised and battered regularly on the football pitch, even aside from being hit with sword, is more than a bit patronising.

“It’s all right,” he says and surprises himself by continuing, “you can go deeper.”

Colin does, in tiny increments that continue to burn as his body expands around it. Bradley’s head falls onto his forearms and he takes deep breaths, one after another, until his muscles start to ease around Colin’s cock. He focuses on relaxing all those muscles, and Colin moves slowly deeper, pulling Bradley open around him like fissures widening in some slow motion earthquake.

Bradley is lost in the intense sensations and the borderline between pleasure and pain, so it’s almost a shock when Colin’s hand lands on his cock. His erection has flagged, but it only takes a few strokes before he’s hard again and the lingering pain fades away.

“You feel so tight,” Colin says, his voice low and rough. “I want to fuck you.”

“Gently,” Bradley says, although it’s patently obvious, and Colin’s hand keeps sliding up and down his cock.

“Yeah,” Colin murmurs, and then Bradley feels Colin’s fingers tighten around his hipbone as Colin’s cock slides oh-so-gradually out of his body, nudging the butt plug in the process. Colin pauses and then begins pushing in again, almost agonisingly slow, until Bradley loses patience and presses back onto his cock. He’s rewarded by the sensation of Colin’s cock surging deeper, buried inside him, and Bradley groans.

“You want it like that?” Colin asks, rolling his hips to accompany the question, and Bradley moans again.

“Didn’t know you were such a slut,” Colin remarks with a mixture of affection and admiration, and his movements quicken, starting to find a rhythm.

It’s like having someone’s nail scraped over a nerve, this constant flare inside him that would be too much if the butt plug weren’t nudging at his prostate with every movement. Colin’s fingers tighten around the head of his cock, and Bradley makes an undignified sort of ‘ungh’ noise.

“Yeah,” Colin says, his hips rocking forward, “however you want it. Just tell me —”

“Harder,” Bradley orders, biting his lip, and a jolt runs through him as Colin complies.

“It feels incredible the way you open for me,” Colin says, proving again that his reputation for a dirty mind amongst the Merlin crew is nothing compared to his predilection for dirty talk in bed, which just seems to get filthier and filthier.

“Can’t wait to come inside you, split you wide,” Colin is saying, and Bradley bucks underneath him at the dual sensations from the butt plug and Colin’s cock, both of which slide against each other as they rub incessantly against his prostate.

Bradley realises he’s going to come hard, unstoppably, about a second before it happens and he’s spurting over Colin’s fist. He hears Colin swear at the way Bradley’s muscles clench and quiver around him, disrupting any semblance of control.

“Oh Jesus, fuck,” Colin says, pumping a last few desperate strokes, before Bradley feels the pulsing inside him and Colin slumps against his back.

His arse is always horribly over-sensitive after being fucked, and this is no exception. Bradley shifts his weight and Colin takes the hint, withdrawing slowly and setting all the raw nerves on edge. There’s a faint squelch as Colin pulls out, and then a pause.

“I suppose you want this out, then?” Colin says, amusement in the lilt of his voice.

Bradley rolls over onto his side and gives him a look. “Yes, Colin. I know you’ve got fantasies about keeping me as your sex slave forever, but I do have other plans.”

“Well, you were enjoying yourself so much that I thought it was best to ask. For such a sceptic, you’re a greedy bottom.”

Bradley can’t think of an answer to that, so he just rolls his eyes and Colin smiles wider as if he’s won the point.

“Right, so I’ll —”

“Yeah.”

He feels Colin tug at the butt plug, pulling the wide part of it against the ring of muscle, and then it slides out in one quick movement. The sensation is odd now that there’s suddenly nothing inside him, but Bradley’s arse feels tender enough that he needs a break. Perhaps even a few days break.

Colin tosses the plug on a towel beneath the bed, wipes his hands and flops down beside Bradley.

“Admit it, I’m a genius,” he says.

“You do realise I’m not one of your fangirls?” Bradley retorts, raising an eyebrow, and Colin prods him in the ribs with an inconveniently sharp elbow.

“One day you’ll learn not to doubt me,” Colin declares, shifting closer and resting his cheek on Bradley’s arm. “I’m like a gay kama sutra. You’ve no idea how lucky you are.”

“Dunno,” says Bradley, thinking of the months of filming for Merlin that they have ahead. Getting to star in a BBC prime time show is pretty much his career goal, and spending the evenings fucking Colin in the hotel is incomparably better than poring dryly over the scripts or chasing spiders. It’s hard to think of something he’d swap this for.

Colin’s head is pillowed on his bicep, and Bradley leans over to ruffle his dark hair, which is mussed and slightly damp from their exertion.

“I’ve got some idea,” Bradley says.