Fic: "Camera"
Sep. 28th, 2011 10:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cyusTitle: Camera
Pairing/Characters: Merlin RPF, Bradley, Colin
Rating: R
Length: 700 words
Summary: Right, so maybe he hadn't exactly "lost" the camera.
Notes: Written and posted originally in reply to this prompt for summerpornathon 2011
The first time had been an accident, no hands down his trousers action intended. A giant set-up for a small joke like all the other dumb ones during the first year filming, and then he'd had Colin with his fingers up his arse on his own laptop and the stupid little joke had become that one image he couldn't easily erase or laugh off - hold up the camera and say 'gotcha' and say 'fuck, you're gay'.
Lauging off pranks that had stumbled a tad too far past acceptable had become one of the few things he was good at (swinging a sword around was on the way to joining that elite little group of skills) and he'd practiced this one but at night, when he pulled up the file saved under a decoy name, there was less laughing off and more wanking under the covers, Colin in the room next door. By that point, he was the one who must have been fucking queer.
"Don't mind me," Bradley was saying, stretched on Colin's bed as Colin was sorting through his suitcase for the film he was sure he'd packed.
Bradley squeezed at his crotch at the idea of sneaking up behind Colin now, leaning over him and pressing his cock against that strip of bare skin showing above the too low boxers. With the other hand he slipped the camera amidst the mess of Colin's nightstand, shifting it to have it sit right.
"I was sure I'd had it," Colin said but Bradley threw a casual 'getting late' and 'yawn' Colin's way as he rolled off the bed.
Back in his own room, face pressed to the wall, he imagined Colin slipping out of his clothes, getting on all fours as he first sucked on his fingers then stuck them in his arse, moaning about Marie and Katie and all the girls Bradley never gave a second glance to but who Colin seemed to want to give it all up to.
"Fuck them deeper," Bradley muttered, hand in his trousers as he wanked himself to the idea of Colin doing the same in the other room.
The third time Colin nearly caught him setting up the camera, the fourth Bradley had to erase because Colin had turned off the light, the fifth he'd heard, loud and clear and the fingers had been a French girl's who'd whispered 'mon petit' on the film and moaned loud enough to have Bradley on his knees next to the wall, imagining it was his fingers and a real fucking cock in Colin's skinny arse.
The tape was hard to watch because much as he tried he wasn't a busty redhead and his cock wasn't gleaming pink pussy, but he kept on valiantly.
"You know he's secretly filming you beating off," Katie said on set one day, rocking back with her chair, eyes shielded to the sun. She laughed because it was a joke, like any of the others about them with their cameras glued to their fingers and then Bradley conveniently losing his, and moved on, talking nonsense.
Colin laughed, squinted at Bradley, and Bradley was hard - snap, like that - because his camera was still in Colin's room from the night before, unretrieved, so far.
"Hm," Colin replied and bit into his apple.
The knock on Bradley's hotel room door that night, Colin outside, Bradley's camera dangling from Colin's fingers, it followed like the unraveling of some complicated tapestry. Here went the great confessions, Bradley's mouth dry and tongue heavy, here went the elaborate ploy decoy strategy of 'sure, mate, it was for a DVD and for a laugh among the cast', but Colin only handed the camera to Bradley.
"If I was gay, you'd be the first," Colin said, half turned already.
"I'm not-"
"Sorry." He smiled, gave that apologetic half-shrug like he'd never been more sorry in his life to let Bradley down, and wouldn't even let Bradley finish about thoughts of his cock in arses not being a gay thing, only a Colin thing, honest.
It was more difficult to beat off to the recordings after without conscience intruding, harder but not impossible. Colin got too good at all the knowing glances and secret little smiles, sometimes right at the camera before handing it back to Bradley himself the next morning.
Pairing/Characters: Merlin RPF, Bradley, Colin
Rating: R
Length: 700 words
Summary: Right, so maybe he hadn't exactly "lost" the camera.
Notes: Written and posted originally in reply to this prompt for summerpornathon 2011
The first time had been an accident, no hands down his trousers action intended. A giant set-up for a small joke like all the other dumb ones during the first year filming, and then he'd had Colin with his fingers up his arse on his own laptop and the stupid little joke had become that one image he couldn't easily erase or laugh off - hold up the camera and say 'gotcha' and say 'fuck, you're gay'.
Lauging off pranks that had stumbled a tad too far past acceptable had become one of the few things he was good at (swinging a sword around was on the way to joining that elite little group of skills) and he'd practiced this one but at night, when he pulled up the file saved under a decoy name, there was less laughing off and more wanking under the covers, Colin in the room next door. By that point, he was the one who must have been fucking queer.
"Don't mind me," Bradley was saying, stretched on Colin's bed as Colin was sorting through his suitcase for the film he was sure he'd packed.
Bradley squeezed at his crotch at the idea of sneaking up behind Colin now, leaning over him and pressing his cock against that strip of bare skin showing above the too low boxers. With the other hand he slipped the camera amidst the mess of Colin's nightstand, shifting it to have it sit right.
"I was sure I'd had it," Colin said but Bradley threw a casual 'getting late' and 'yawn' Colin's way as he rolled off the bed.
Back in his own room, face pressed to the wall, he imagined Colin slipping out of his clothes, getting on all fours as he first sucked on his fingers then stuck them in his arse, moaning about Marie and Katie and all the girls Bradley never gave a second glance to but who Colin seemed to want to give it all up to.
"Fuck them deeper," Bradley muttered, hand in his trousers as he wanked himself to the idea of Colin doing the same in the other room.
The third time Colin nearly caught him setting up the camera, the fourth Bradley had to erase because Colin had turned off the light, the fifth he'd heard, loud and clear and the fingers had been a French girl's who'd whispered 'mon petit' on the film and moaned loud enough to have Bradley on his knees next to the wall, imagining it was his fingers and a real fucking cock in Colin's skinny arse.
The tape was hard to watch because much as he tried he wasn't a busty redhead and his cock wasn't gleaming pink pussy, but he kept on valiantly.
"You know he's secretly filming you beating off," Katie said on set one day, rocking back with her chair, eyes shielded to the sun. She laughed because it was a joke, like any of the others about them with their cameras glued to their fingers and then Bradley conveniently losing his, and moved on, talking nonsense.
Colin laughed, squinted at Bradley, and Bradley was hard - snap, like that - because his camera was still in Colin's room from the night before, unretrieved, so far.
"Hm," Colin replied and bit into his apple.
The knock on Bradley's hotel room door that night, Colin outside, Bradley's camera dangling from Colin's fingers, it followed like the unraveling of some complicated tapestry. Here went the great confessions, Bradley's mouth dry and tongue heavy, here went the elaborate ploy decoy strategy of 'sure, mate, it was for a DVD and for a laugh among the cast', but Colin only handed the camera to Bradley.
"If I was gay, you'd be the first," Colin said, half turned already.
"I'm not-"
"Sorry." He smiled, gave that apologetic half-shrug like he'd never been more sorry in his life to let Bradley down, and wouldn't even let Bradley finish about thoughts of his cock in arses not being a gay thing, only a Colin thing, honest.
It was more difficult to beat off to the recordings after without conscience intruding, harder but not impossible. Colin got too good at all the knowing glances and secret little smiles, sometimes right at the camera before handing it back to Bradley himself the next morning.
