Eurydice (eurydice72) wrote,

Fic: Not Like Any Other (Bradley/Tom) - NC17

So the other fic I wrote over Christmas busted my RPS cherry. I've always been uncomfortable about writing it, but curious for months, and well...I finally did it.

TITLE: Not Like Any Other
AUTHOR: Eurydice
WORD COUNT: 3400 words
DISCLAIMER: Oh, how I wish they were, but no, they are not mine.
SUMMARY: When Tom discovers Bradley's hiding a copy of Gay Times, he decides to take matters into his own hands. Well, maybe not just his hands...
SPOILERS/WARNINGS: None. Unless gay shower sex needs to be warned about.
NOTES: Written for the KMM prompt, RPF, Bradley/Tom, Tom finds a certain well-thumbed copy of Gay Times in Bradley's possession (bottom!Bradley preferred).

Not Like Any Other

In hindsight, he should’ve known, because fuck, even Stumpy took the piss out of him for being so willing to go along with what the photographer wanted to do, but come on, he wasn’t stupid, he knew he had to take advantage of the way he looked while he could. If that meant showing some skin, who the fuck cared if it was a bunch of guys staring at him anyway? It wasn’t like he was in the room when they rubbed one out, and if it got Tom a little more worked up when he took care of his own business, that wasn’t anybody’s business but his own, either.

But finding that copy in Bradley’s bag…he wasn’t sure what to think about that. Of all of them, Bradley was the last one he’d ever peg for liking cock. Eoin, sure, and Colin, hell yeah. Rupes and Ade were easy bets, too, especially since he knew for a fact they used their so-called rehearsal times to suck each other off instead of running lines like they claimed. Like either one even had enough lines to bother with.

But Bradley loved pussy. And he hated all the attention the fans seemed to pay to his ass. He’d almost flattened Eoin once when he’d brought up some stupid Twitter exchange discussing certain fantasies about seeing Colin face-planted there. (Tom held back in commenting on the fans’ particularly good taste. Of all the asses on set, Bradley’s was definitely the most edible.)

So discovering Bradley not only had the issue with Tom’s naked pics in it but that it was dog-eared and rumpled in ways every teenaged boy in the UK could recognize? Enough to give Tom a raging hard-on to find out exactly just what Bradley thought of as he shot all over the pages.

There was no way to ask, of course, because Bradley could clam up faster than anyone else on set, faster than Eoin would take a bet, faster than Ade would drop to his knees for Rupes. But the more Tom thought about it, the more he wanted to know. Like did Bradley fancy bending him or getting bent? Sucking or getting sucked? Being as bossy as he could get on the pitch or gagging to beg for it?

The only answer he needed came in the form of a thick, heavily veined dildo and a mostly empty lube tube he found shoved in the back of a drawer one morning he knew Bradley would be on set for hours.

Kind of hard not to grin like a loon after that. Or walk around without showing everyone with a working eyeball how much he loved the idea. Or even look at Bradley anymore without checking out his ass.

It wasn’t long before looking wasn’t enough. They were putting in long days, and the weather was for shit, pissing down and miserable until even good-natured Colin turned into a whiny bitch. Retakes and slow rehearsals put too much time in his hands, which meant his thoughts went on vacation, too, to their new favorite place in the world, basking in the heat of Bradley’s crotch and ass. It was the first time Tom was glad he was such a minor character because skipping out to jerk off was a lot easier to do when all you had to do most of the time was stand around and look forbidding.

Then not even that could get him off. Because fuck, they were friends, right? They’d gone out pubbing together, they’d watched too many games together to count, they almost always turned to the other first when they had free time and that should’ve mattered, or made a difference, or hell, even convinced Bradley that Tom was the last person in the world to care whether or not he liked a little cock now and again. Or a big cock, if his nightstand friend was the measure to go by. The more time passed when Bradley pretended everything was the same, the more frustrated Tom got that nothing was changing, no confessions, no jokes, not even some of the lame flirting Bradley was so rubbish at (only Eoin could get away with the lines Bradley occasionally tried on the girls they saw, the ones who had no clue who he was which was a dwindling number these days).

Time to take matters into his own hands. Or Bradley’s ass, as the case may be.

He picked a day when the weather was cooperating, when shooting was all second unit stuff and everyone else was itching to get out and take advantage of the sunshine. He and Bradley were on the same team (like always), and it was just like any other game, the pushing and the pulling and the shouting of encouragement and the way they both just made the other better. Bradley had that way about him, that drive when it came to the win, that compelled everyone around him to throw in an extra ten percent. Finishing a match, whether they won or not (they usually did), was a high unparalleled by much else.

Was it any wonder he was already like rock when they hit the showers? His balls ached, and he kept stealing glances as Bradley peeled away his wet shirt as he joked around with Eoin, using it to mop away the worst of the sweat beneath his arms and across his forehead. When the rich musky smell of him hit Tom’s nose, his mouth watered. A lot. Like he might’ve even drooled if he wasn’t so self-conscious about it. If Eoin hadn’t been around, he just might have volunteered to lick Bradley clean instead of having him wipe all that deliciousness away.

His plan meant cornering Bradley after the match, not here because hello, more than a little daft to be so public, but back at their rooms where privacy was guaranteed. But then fate struck (okay, Eoin’s inability to say no to anybody else paying), and Eoin dashed in and out of the water to join a group who were going down to the pub, leaving Tom with Bradley under the spray behind him and a hard-on that wouldn’t go away.

Tentatively, he touched his dick, fingers running along the length, his gaze jumping to Bradley every other millisecond to gauge his reactions. If he noticed, he didn’t let on, but then, Tom was kind of dumbstruck at the sight of Bradley’s hunched shoulders as he ducked his head under the shower, not to mention the slope of his back as it tapered down to his hips.

Fuck it. He was tired of all the games.

Bradley stiffened when Tom reached around his waist and grabbed his cock (half-hard, oh shit yeah), and though he tried to twist away from Tom’s intrusion into his space, Tom used his bigger size (it had to come in handy for something, right?) to push Bradley harder into the wall.

He bent his head to Bradley’s ear. “Know about the mag.” He ground into Bradley’s ass, and maybe his rational brain said it was just to make his point but that wasn’t really the part of his body that seemed to be in control at the moment. “Know about the dildo you’ve got stashed away with it, too.”

Bradley froze. The way Tom had his head tilted, he got a front row seat to the way Bradley’s pulse exploded at the base of his neck. His prick filled the rest of the way, blood pounding everywhere, and the fresh slick that dripped from the tip had absolutely nothing to do with the water washing over them.

“Everybody’s gone,” Tom went on. No way was he going to stop now, impossible to even think with all the new heat seeping out of Bradley’s pores. “Just you and me and time to get what we both want.”

“You think I want this?” Bradley gritted out.

Tom squeezed his cock, harder than he might have if they’d been back at their rooms and wound around each other in bed. Hard enough to get the most fucking fantastic groans from Bradley’s throat, though, the kind that made his whole body vibrate and his dick throb in Tom’s palm.

“I think you’re dying for it, yeah.” He wormed his free hand between their bodies to slip his fingers down Bradley’s crack, spreading the cheeks to probe at the tight, clenching hole, the same hole that opened up the moment after he touched it, inviting him in. “I think we should’ve done this ages ago.”

Bradley shook his head, or it might’ve been a shudder the way his whole body seemed to take part in it. “I don’t fuck guys.”

“You won’t be doing the fucking.” Anybody else, any other time, he would’ve backed off. He didn’t push his desires on anyone, not at his size when it could be misconstrued and how much did he not need some kind of police charge because someone got mad and decided to turn the tables? But Bradley (this) was different. The magazine, the dildo, the way he now pushed back against Tom’s fingers, making it easier for two of them to ease in without having to fight. “Nobody else will know,” he added, because if he understood anything about his friend it was how much he valued what little privacy he could get. “It’ll be our secret. Just you and me.”

This time, it really was a shudder that went through Bradley. A second later, he wrenched free of the way Tom held him, turning around to lean against the wall and stare up at Tom with desire-black eyes. He grabbed Tom’s shoulder, the back of his neck, and yanked him close again, slamming so hard Bradley’s breath came out in a fast, heavy whoosh. He moved faster than Tom could keep up, more proof of how much he wanted this, hooking a leg around the back of Tom’s thigh until Tom took the hint and hoisted him all the way up. Legs came around Tom’s waist so quick then, Tom almost stumbled forward and crushed him against the wall.

He laughed, low and hungry. “Greedy for it, are you?”

Bradley’s mouth tipped into a smile, the first of what he hoped were many to come. “Just do it already.”

“Already?” His wet hand scooped beneath Bradley’s ass and unerringly found his pucker again. “I’ll tear you open if I don’t take my time.”

“I’ve had that dildo since we finished shooting last series. Trust me. That’s the one thing I don’t need you to do.”

He curved his fingers together and shoved all four of them in to the first knuckles, grinning wider when Bradley grunted and bore down against him. “And the mag?”

“On my third copy.”

A copy that was already worse for wear. They’d definitely waited too long to do this.

Bradley’s cock wasn’t the longest he’d ever seen, but what it lacked in length it made up for in girth. It rested thick and heavy between their stomachs, streaming pre-come and slicking their skin better than the water did. The way Bradley gripped his hips (turned out all that running for football came in handy for more than chasing after Eoin when he nicked their water bottles) denied the space to reach in and give him a good yank, but Bradley made up for it by rubbing up and down, both creating the friction and riding Tom’s fingers at the same time. Resourceful, and just a little too practiced to convince Tom he hadn’t been fantasizing about this or a similar scenario all along. Still hot, though, and driving Tom crazy. He’d never sucked a guy, but for Bradley, he’d think about it. Hell, for Bradley, he was starting to think he’d do just about anything.

Four fingers was a tight fit, but it wasn’t impossible and more importantly, Bradley wasn’t wincing or telling him to slow it down or looking like it was anything but the best thing ever. Tom wondered for a moment about protection, but only a moment because he was certainly clean and Bradley was too uptight to catch anything and neither one of them had ever been this intimate with another guy before. Besides, knowing he was about to come so much he’d likely leak out of Bradley’s ass for a week was enough incentive to make it happen. Bradley wouldn’t forget this fuck any time soon.

Pulling away brought a scowl to Bradley’s face, one that created the irresistible urge to kiss it away. Tom stifled that insanity with a smirk as he reached down and angled his cock between Bradley’s thighs, running up and down along the seam, over the hole he so desperately wanted to sink into.

“Stop fucking around, Hopper,” Bradley growled.

He cocked a brow. “Don’t really see you in a position to be so bossy, you know.”

“Like you don’t want to do it.”

“I never said that.” He positioned the tip at Bradley’s opening, so ready to take the plunge but that would mean Bradley winning again, just like he always inevitably did and maybe this time, just this once, Tom wanted to be the one in control, be the one to say when and how and whatnot.

“So what’re you waiting for?”


“Right here, mate.”

“No.” He bent his head, returning his mouth to Bradley’s ear. A shiver rattled through him as he whispered, “Beg me.”

Bradley caught his breath, blunt nails digging into Tom’s back where he held on. “You’re off your nut.”

“Really? What was that about a third copy?” On a whim, he licked (licked? seriously? what the fuck was he thinking?) across the outer curve, and the salty sweat that had gathered there burst across his tastebuds. “Promised you nobody would know, and they won’t. But between you and me…beg for it.”

Here was where he lost him, where he pushed too hard and screwed his chances to be the one and only to get into the infamous ass of Bradley James. Someone somewhere else would get the pleasure, and the friend he’d thought too good to lose would drift away because who wanted to hang out with the guy who played games instead of sticking to what he said? He wouldn’t even be able to look Bradley in the—

“Want it.” Bradley’s tongue swiped over his lower lip. When had it gone dry? Tom’s mouth watered again to wet it for him. “Want you.”

“To what?” He was pushing, but only because Bradley was letting him, and who knew how it would be to have the golden boy so hungry for his cock? “Tell me what you want me to do.”

“Fuck me, damn it.” Bradley squirmed, dislodging Tom’s cock so abruptly, he reached back to guide it back into position. “You think I’d let anybody else do this to me? C’mon, we’ve waited long enough, haven’t we?” For a split second, his lips grazed along Tom’s shoulder. “Please?”

He’d never known any word to sound so good, not even the first yes he’d got from a girl. His body moved with a mind of its own, pressing forward, up, tilting into Bradley’s body like it already owned him (it probably already did, no matter how much he wished it was the other way around). The tight outer ring, even though he’d stretched it, blocked entry for a long, tense moment, but then he broke through, sinking deeper on groans from both of them. Inches in and in and in, endless squeezing around his length, so tight he dropped his brow to Bradley’s shoulder to stop the world spinning around him.

Somehow, he made it all the way, though he barely remembered anything but the constricting heat in doing so. Bradley’s weight rested heavily on him, balls smashed into Tom’s groin, cock rigid and enticing against his stomach. Both of them panted harder, faster, than any match ever caused. Both of them remained otherwise motionless, incapable of doing anything except getting used to how amazing this felt. Well, he hoped that was why Bradley wasn’t moving. Tom’s brain was too short-circuited to debate niceties.

So when Bradley was the first to squirm, to try and goad Tom into thrusting, relief flooded through him. He obeyed, because really, that was the whole point of why they were there, even if Bradley got too bossy after begging for it. He withdrew a couple inches, but just a couple, three max, before slamming back in, scraping Bradley’s back against the wall with the force, earning an added tightness around his cock for the pleasure.

“Yeah,” Bradley breathed. “Just like that.”

Just like that was easy enough, especially when he lengthened his strokes, pulling out, shoving upward, raging for friction more and more. Bradley was a noisy fuck, huffing and grunting in ways he didn’t on the pitch, occasionally biting at Tom’s shoulder so hard Tom wondered if he intended to leave marks. Tom definitely did. His fingertips dug into the taut cheeks he’d admired for so long, creating blossoms of bruises Bradley might not easily see but he sure as hell would feel.

It wasn’t long before muscles started quivering against his palms. Neither one of them had touched Bradley’s cock, but the constant up and down as well as the close fit of their stomachs had rubbed along its length continuously, with the sluicing water keeping it constantly lubricated. There was no way it could compare to what Tom was experiencing, but that didn’t matter. He felt Bradley lose it seconds before he shouted out, his ass clamping down tighter than any virgin’s. Tom had to plough even harder to keep his rhythm, locked within the circle of Bradley’s trembling body as hot come smeared across their skin.

Bradley became useless at that point, his grip slackening, his forehead falling to Tom’s shoulder as he let Tom pound away at his hole. Callused fingers skimmed up and down Tom’s back until Tom wanted to fly apart. But then his balls pulled up tight, his thighs began to melt, and it was all he could do not to lose it completely as he tore into Bradley’s channel those last few strokes.

He came in a haze of heat and wet that smothered him both inside and out. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t move, he was lucky he kept Bradley pinned to the wall for all the control he had over his body while he shot deep inside him. Through it all, only the errant thought, so this is what the big deal is, rattled around loud enough for him for hear. The rest was a deluge it would take days to recover from.

Tom almost laughed. What was that about wanting Bradley to remember this for a while? He was a victim of his own arrogance for ever thinking this would satisfy his curiosity enough to just walk away.

“Hey.” Bradley slapped at his shoulder. “Can’t breathe with you leaning on me like that.”

Pulling back, he met Bradley’s amused gaze. Relaxed, too, in the way good sex always managed. He wasn’t sure what to say, though. Apparently, afterfuck chitchat was just as hard with a guy as it was with a girl.

“Our secret, right?” Bradley said. At Tom’s nod, he grinned. “Much better than getting a fourth copy.”

The joke eased the rest of his tension, as well as dispelled the lingering questions he had. Not a one-time thing, then, which was all well and good since he wanted back in Bradley’s ass as soon as possible. Maybe in a bed next time. Or even better, bent over it so he had the perfect view of his cock plunging inside. He could shoot over Bradley’s back—

“Planning on letting me down some time soon?” Bradley said.

With an abashed smile, Tom eased out, enjoying the trickle of come dripping down his prick when he did. (How much would Bradley’s head explode if he dropped to his knees and cleaned out Bradley’s hole? It’d be worth it, though, completely and utterly worth it.) But the truth of the matter was, no, he had every intention of a repeat performance, and then more again after that.

He had a feeling Bradley would be just fine with that plan.
Tags: bradley/tom, fic, merlin

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