Deviation (Bradley/Colin RPS) Oneshot

[dysonrules]

This is for alaerys , who demanded (no, really, she's a demanding little thing) the prompt of FUR. The fur was being very uncooperative and eventually fled the scene entirely, but it is there!

This will be posted to the appropriate Merlin comms as soon as my darling byaghro utilizes her superior powers of betahood. *nods* At the moment it could be chock full of errors! It's about 4,600 words.

Deviation

Bradley moved and immediately wished he hadn’t. Pain lanced through his left leg and seemed to travel from there up his spine to his head.

What the hell?

He opened his eyes and it was more difficult than it should have been. He felt strange and his eyes met only darkness. He moved his hand and something odd scraped across the back of his hand. It felt rough, like....

Bradley frowned and tried to focus. Why was he so cold? A frost-laden breeze fluttered his hair and he blinked, wondering why it was so hard to think. He lifted his other hand and it slid over bare skin. Icy cold bare skin.

He reached for it, panic spiking through him as he remembered.

Colin!

Oh god. Oh god, oh god, oh god.

The car. They were in the car. They had been driving and the roads were half ice, and Colin had been joking about strapping skis to the car tyres. They had laughed…

And then it was no longer funny, because the car was sliding in earnest and everything seemed to happen in slow motion. There was a sickening crunch and the crash barrier parted, sending them over the edge. The car began to tip… and then it all became a blur of colour before… nothing.

We crashed, Bradley thought. He gripped Colin’s arm more tightly, petrified by the coldness of it. He refused to follow that thought to its logical conclusion and focussed instead on their surroundings. They were still in the car, which had landed on its side. Bradley was in the passenger seat, although his face rested on the grass.

Colin dangled from the driver’s seat, cold as ice.

Wind gusted into Bradley’s face again, breaking his stasis. It was freezing. God knew how long they had been unconscious. His fingers were frigid as forced himself to let go of Colin and fumble for his seatbelt clasp.

He couldn’t remember how it unhooked, since the car was Colin’s. Was it a push button or pull-clasp? His mind seemed sluggish and his fingers kept slipping, as if they were made of clay instead of flesh. Over and over the bit of metal and plastic defeated him until he was nearly sobbing with frustration.

At last the belt released and Bradley shifted carefully. Each movement was agony and he feared he might have broken something, but his first concern was Colin, who literally dangled from the seat. Bradley could barely see him in the dim light.

Clear night, he thought crazily. Half moon? Oh god, please. Gibbous moon? What does that even mean, gibbous? Please be alive, Colin. Please.

Bradley got to his knees, wincing when something cut into his knee. Glass or metal, he wasn’t sure; he ignored it and reached up to unbuckle Colin’s seatbelt. Either he remembered how it worked, or luck was simply with him, because it parted immediately, sending Colin sprawling in a heap.

Bradley belatedly hoped Colin hadn’t landed on his head and broken his neck. If he was alive at all. He cursed himself for the horrifying thought and clutched at Colin’s shirt, tearing it open to press both cold hands against Colin’s throat, desperate to find a pulse.

His teeth were clattering and his breath sobbed in and out of his chest. He clamped his jaw shut and held his breath, trying to calm down. Colin. He had to make sure Colin was all right. His hands stilled and he channelled all of his attention to his hands, praying for a heartbeat.

He felt nothing.

His breath exploded from his lungs and he clenched his hands convulsively.

“Colin!” he shouted. “Colin!”

He shook Colin by the neck, sobbing. You can’t be dead, you can’t be dead, you can’t be—

Colin coughed.

Bradley let go only to clutch at Colin’s shoulders and drag him upward into an embrace. “Oh god.” He began to shiver uncontrollably. “Oh god, Colin.”

Colin coughed again and moaned. Bradley suddenly realized he could be badly injured. Internal injuries. And it was cold, so damnably cold he was surprised they hadn’t both died of exposure already. His teeth clattered again.

“C…C…Colin. We need to g…g…get out.” Once he said the words, he knew they were true. They needed to get somewhere warm. They needed to get help.

Our phones, he thought suddenly. Where are our phones? He cast his mind back, trying to remember. It hadn’t been that cold when they had left. They had tossed their coats into the back seat, pulling their phones and mp3 players out first. What had they done with them? Bradley remembered chucking his phone into the tiny compartment beneath the stereo. Colin had done the same.

With the car on its side, the compartment would be… there. Bradley shifted Colin in his arms and used one hand to grope for the dash. His fingers felt over buttons and knobs until they dipped into an opening. An empty opening. Fuck. The phones had fallen out.

Bradley scanned the darkness, hoping to locate a gleam of metal that would indicate one of their cell phones. He saw nothing. Damn it.

Rather than waste time searching, he set Colin’s limp form back down. “I’m going to take a look around, Colin. See where we are. I’ll be right back.”

The front windscreen was a splintered mess. One corner hung free of the frame. Bradley pushed on it several times until it fell away completely, crashing to the ground in one large piece. With one more worried glance at Colin, he climbed free of the car and stood up.

They were in a ravine. Bradley turned until he located the path the car had taken. It did not look like that much of a climb, really. But dragging Colin? It would take him forever. He should probably leave him and try to flag down a motorist, but it had been late when they had hit the ice. They had seen few cars. Chances were, there would be even fewer, now. And he hated to leave Colin.

He looked around frantically and spotted something that had to be manmade. The smooth line of it caught and edge of moonlight. Was it a roof? Bradley stood on his tiptoes and winced when his leg protested. The fact that he was standing on it told him it wasn’t broken, at any rate.

It was a roof. Hopefully, it would be someone’s house. He shivered and blew on his hands. Standing in the open breeze was decidedly colder than being inside the shelter of the smashed car.

He quickly crawled back through the demolished windscreen, making a quick decision. He fumbled in the rear compartment until his hands located their coats. Thank god those hadn’t disappeared the way their phones had. It was possible the phones had flown out during the roll, tossed out the windows. They could be anywhere.

“Colin,” he said, gripping his shoulders. “Colin, you have to wake up.”

There was no response. Rather than panicking and checking for a pulse again, Bradley set to levering his friend out of the car. Colin would be all right. He had to be all right. He would just have to hope there were no spinal injuries, or severe head injuries, or blood clots, or…

Gritting his teeth, Bradley heaved Colin out of the car and then spent a few minutes forcing Colin’s limp body into a coat—Bradley’s coat. He remembered how Colin had laughed and laughed at it, calling him a “fashionista” and a “supermodel wannabe” and “hairy strumpet” until Bradley had threatened to smother him with the coat and bury him in a shallow grave.

He winced now, recalling the shallow grave comment. “No shallow grave for you, Colin. No grave for you at all, if I have anything to say about it.”

To his immense relief, Colin mumbled and tried to bat him away, giving Bradley welcome proof of his vitality. Bradley propped him against the frame of the car and shrugged into Colin’s completely inadequate hoodie, mentally damning the boy for dressing so improperly for the freezing weather.

As if to confirm Bradley’s thoughts, several snowflakes drifted past.

“Great,” he said with a sigh. “Just great.”

With that, he bent down, heaved Colin upright, and half-dragged, half-carried the semi-conscious lad toward the promising gleam of roofline.

It seemed to take forever to reach it. Bradley was glad he had worn Colin’s pathetic hoodie, because he was dripping with sweat and panting like a steam engine. His breath puffed in the cold air. Colin had nearly revived, but spent most of his lucid moments fighting Bradley and mumbling incoherently.

“Don’t make me leave you here, Colin,” Bradley muttered and shifted Colin on his back—which had ended up being the easiest place to carry him. Bradley was hunched over like an old man, shuffling along the dry stream bed and shoving through brambles and winter-bare bushes, carrying Colin like an oversized backpack.

He was beyond relieved to discover the manmade gleam really was a roof, the metal roof of some sort of small cabin. Bradley had wishes for an actual house, or at least an outbuilding near a house, but he supposed it was better than spending the night in the demolished car.

The door was even open, wonder of wonders. He paused a moment to bless country people and their innocent, trusting ways before shoving the door open and stepping inside.

The dim light from the doorway was just enough to display a single bed and a rustic table. Bradley dropped Colin onto the bed with a sigh of relief. Ancient springs creaked in protest. Bradley turned to the table, noticing an oil lamp with a glass chimney rested thereon. He fumbled at the glass and bemoaned, for the first time in his life, the fact that he was not a smoker. He would have had a lighter to hand, then.

To his amazement, he spotted a flat square next to the oil lamp and picked it up—a book of matches. He flipped it open and tore off a cardboard match. His hands were shaking so badly it took him several tries to light it, but finally it flared to life and he touched it to the wick. He had never been so thankful for fire in his life.

It burned brightly. Rather than turning down the flame, Bradley glanced around the cabin. The first thing he spotted was the fireplace. Snatching up the oil lamp, he hurried over and knelt on the hearth. To his amazement, wood was already stacked and ready to be lit.

“Bless the anal of the world,” he muttered, although usually that sort of person annoyed him immensely. He lit another match from the burning wick and touched it to the wadded paper beneath the stack of wood. It caught immediately.

Bradley set the lamp down and poked at the fire with a stick, casting worried glances toward Colin, who lay unmoving. Now that there was light, Bradley could see a smear of blood on Colin’s forehead.

He turned his gaze back to the fire, feeling sick. What if Colin had a head injury? Fuck, what if he died?

The thought sent him to his feet and he searched the cabin. A telephone, or even electricity, was too much to hope for, but he hoped to at least find some water. He found nothing, however, beyond a few rust-spotted cast iron pots, two chipped mugs, and a stack of plastic plates.

There was also a small cupboard with two tins of potted meat, a can of fruit, several packages of dried noodles, and a jar filled with teabags. At least they wouldn’t starve. Bradley assumed there was a well or some sort of water source outside. Now that he was beginning to warm up, he was loath to return to the cold outdoors.

Instead, he got up and went to see to Colin. The blood on his head was alarming and he realized that he would have to go outside, anyway, and locate water. He had to clean up Colin’s wounds and make sure they were not…

Without thinking about it, he went outside, taking the lamp with him. After blundering around outside the cabin, he located a pile of stones that hid a well. A beat-up plastic bucket sat next to it and an ancient metal and wood crank device worked well enough to drag up another bucket filled with water. Bradley dumped it into the plastic bucket and toted it back inside.

The water was extremely cold, so Bradley poured half the bucket’s contents into one of the cast iron pots and set it near the flames. He shrugged out of Colin’s hoodie and used one of the sleeves, soaked in the cold water, to dab at the blood on Colin’s face.

He was relieved when it washed away. From the look of it, he was afraid Colin had a cloven skull. Instead, a small gash on his forehead welled fresh blood when Bradley dabbed at it. Fearing there might be more wounds beneath Colin’s thick hair, Bradley pushed his hands into, searching for injuries. Colin’s hair was incredibly soft.

He had just finished rubbing his fingers over the back of Colin’s neck when he realized Colin’s dark eyes were open and watching him.

“Bradley?” he asked.

Bradley was glad he was already sitting down; his legs might not have held him. Colin was awake, and he recognized Bradley.

“Colin,” he whispered. “How are you?”

“Cold,” Colin said and then his teeth began to chatter. “So cold.”

Shit. Wasn’t that a sign of shock? And shock could kill. Bradley knew that much from watching police dramas.

“Hang on, I’ll warm you up.” He scanned the room again, looking for blankets or rugs, but the place was barren of any sort of cloth. The mattress had no bedding. And Bradley’s ridiculous fur coat was already wrapped around Colin. The fire was heating the space nicely, but Colin was still cold. Which must have meant that… that his body core temperature had dropped. Hadn’t Bradley watched a survival show about that? Why hadn’t he paid more attention to the telly?

“So tired,” Colin said and shut his eyes.

Bradley frowned. Wasn’t there something about keeping shock victims awake? Regardless, he needed to warm Colin up. The fire was warming the space, but it might take hours to penetrate Colin’s chilled skin. And his jeans were partially sodden from being dragged through patches of snow.

Skin.

Bradley swallowed. Without thinking too hard about what he was doing, Bradley leaned down and unfastened Colin’s waistband. He removed Colin’s shoes and dragged off the wet jeans before setting them close to the fire. Next, he wrestled the coat away from Colin, who protested vaguely.

He debated taking off Colin’s t-shirt and finally decided to leave it on. It wasn’t wet and might provide a small layer of warmth. Colin shivered without the coat and Bradley quickly stripped off his clothing, shirt included, and lay down next to Colin.

He arranged the huge coat over them both, rather impressed that such a silly thing had turned out to be so useful. The faux fur was quite warm. Colin, however, was still cold. His skin felt like ice.

Bradley turned him on his side and snuggled up against Colin’s back, wincing as Colin’s chilled buttocks and legs seemed to burn into his flesh. Bradley looped an arm around him and splayed his hand over Colin’s abdomen. It felt as cold as a slab of marble.

Bradley buried his face in Colin’s thick hair, pulling him closer, determined to warm him if it required leeching all the heat from his own body and sending it into Colin’s. His lips pressed into Colin’s cold neck and his hand stole upward, beneath Colin’s shirt, to rest over his heart; Bradley held his breath for long minutes until he felt a heartbeat.

It was there, and Colin’s chest rose and fell with each breath. Now that Bradley was quiet and unmoving, the sound was more evident. He relaxed with a sigh of relief. Now that his mind was not scrambling to do something, he found it travelling paths of anxiety that kept him from dozing.

What if he had lost Colin? Hell, what if he still lost Colin? They weren’t out of the woods, yet, and lack of visible wounds didn’t mean anything. Colin could be…

Bradley breathed in the scent of Colin’s hair and refused to think about it. His mind kept tracking back to all the good times they had had. Joking around on the set, listening to music, watching the telly, videotaping each other acting like fools…

He pressed his lips against the back of Colin’s neck, overcome with emotion. It was possible he cared more about Colin Morgan than anyone else in his life. The thought was slightly terrifying.

Bradley awoke with a start and was somewhat surprised that he had fallen asleep. He was still wrapped tightly around Colin, who was warm. His chest rose and fell evenly with each breath and Bradley took a brief moment to thank every deity on earth.

He noticed his face was cold—the portion that wasn’t against the mattress or tucked into Colin’s dark hair. The fire must have dwindled or gone out.

Bradley carefully levered himself away from Colin, who did not stir. Bradley hurried to the fireplace, wincing at the cold floor. He glanced out the tiny window to see it was still pitch dark. The fire was nearly all embers, with a tiny flame still eating at a charred bit of wood. He carefully fed it small twigs until it burned bright and yellow, and then he levered a number of larger pieces atop those. When it crackled high once more, he looked at his watch. 3:20 a.m.

He turned his attention to Colin, who still had not moved. He debated putting his clothes back on and staying awake, but he was damned tired and Colin was warm. And cuddly. Although he wouldn’t admit to that last bit.

Bradley padded back to the bed and crawled carefully back under the fur coat before tucking himself around Colin once more, shivering. He kept his hand on the outside of Colin’s shirt this time, realizing he might have a bit of explaining to do if Colin awakened to find Bradley fondling him beneath his clothing.

Hell, he would have enough explaining to do just because he was wrapped around Colin with next to nothing on. In fact, being wrapped around Colin was a lot more pleasant than it should have been. His warmth seemed to burn into Bradley’s chilled flesh and he burrowed a bit closer, returning his face to the familiar tangle of Colin’s hair.

He could get used to waking up like this, he realized. It should have been a disturbing thought, but instead it merely made his heart ache.

His heart nearly stopped completely when Colin’s hand moved to press over the backs of his fingers. “Bradley?” he asked.

Caught! thought Bradley in a panic. “Yes,” he replied in a tone that contained an alarming squeak.

“What… where are we?”

Bradley thought of and rejected several farfetched explanations, but finally settled on the truth. “We were in a car accident. How do you feel?” His lips brushed against Colin’s neck with every word, but he could not seem to force himself to pull away.

“Car accident,” Colin repeated softly. His fingers clenched over Bradley’s. “Then… where are we?

“Random hut,” Bradley replied. “We needed to get out of the cold.”

Colin’s chest hitched beneath Bradley’s hand. “You carried me.”

Bradley snorted a laugh. “Well, dragged, more like. For a scrawny little git, you’re awfully heavy.”

Colin did not react to his jibe, except to ask, “How far?”

“I did not check my pedometer, Colin. I don’t know; it doesn’t matter. Are you warm enough?”

“Yes, I— You saved my life, didn’t you?”

Bradley was about to brush it off, but the truth was that Colin might have died out there in the cold. What if he had been driving alone? What if Bradley had not impulsively joined Colin when he had decided to drive up and visit his gran? Colin might have hit the same patch of ice, rolled the car, and ended up freezing to death without ever waking up.

Bradley’s arm tightened and he swallowed hard. “I can never let you out of my sight again,” he said firmly. His voice sounded rough to his own ears.

“Never again?” Colin asked and amusement was evident in his tone. “Planning to join me in the shower, then?”

Unexpectedly, the thought of joining Colin in the shower was far from amusing. An image of Colin, naked, dripping with water and suds, hair wet, lips parted as he tipped his dark hair back into the spray—the vision seemed to explode in Bradley’s mind, with immediate and alarming results.

“Oh fuck,” he breathed as his cock thickened and grew, filling the space between Colin’s arse cheeks as thought it belonged there.

Colin gasped.

“Oh god,” Bradley said and immediately tried to pull away, hoping to flee and explain it as some ridiculous fluke, or the side effect of a head injury, even if he had to bludgeon himself with the fireplace poker to make it plausible.

Colin’s hand tightened, holding him in place even as he turned to face Bradley. His dark eyes were wide. “What brought that on?” he asked in a whisper.

“Head injury,” Bradley babbled. “Insanity. Genetic predisposition—” He tugged at his arm, hoping to free it from Colin’s grip, but he held tight.

“Really? Not even a hint of attraction, then?” Colin asked.

Bradley froze, staring at him. Colin’s teasing tone was usually reserved for… well, for times when he was flirting with Bradley, but he was always joking when he did that. Wasn’t he?

“What—? What are you saying?” Bradley whispered.

Colin had lifted his other hand toward Bradley’s cheek, but it fell away as shutters seemed to drop down over his eyes and his smile faded. He looked away and Bradley suspected a blush stained Colin’s cheeks, invisible in the flickering light from the fire.

“Nothing,” Colin muttered. “Forget it; you’re right. Head injury and all.”

He released Bradley’s arm, but Bradley was no longer interested in escaping. “Wait. Are you saying if I did this…?” Bradley screwed up his courage and reached out to touch Colin’s face before curving his hand around the back of Colin’s neck. He leaned forward until his lips were mere millimetres from Colin’s. Their breath mingled, coming in puffs more rapid than their minimal activity should have warranted. “If I did this…?”

Colin captured Bradley’s lips with something that sounded like a gasp of distress. Bradley’s heart thumped wildly in his chest and his hand tightened on Colin’s neck as their lips slid together, created a tiny moment of suction, and pulled away.

Their eyes met for only an instant before their mouths locked together once more, greedily this time, as if they were both starving for one another. Bradley had never felt so completely out of control. God, how long had he wanted Colin? How long had he wanted this and not even known it?

How long had Colin wanted him?

His hands were all over Colin, leaving his neck to travel down over bare arms, touching his wrists and fingers, and then hipbones and ribs and… Bradley swallowed. He had touched Colin’s chest last night, rubbing a palm over his nipple with really acknowledging it, but now when his fingertips touched the hard nubs, Colin made a guttural noise and pushed into his hand. Enchanted, Bradley rolled one between his thumb and forefinger, grinning when Colin moaned against his lips.

“How could I not have known?” Bradley murmured, feeling a jolt when Colin’s hands slipped beneath the edge of his shirt to trace lightly over his hipbones.

“I asked myself that a time or two,” Colin admitted.

“Why didn’t you ever—?” He broke off, unable to speak when Colin’s fingers pushed beneath the waistband of his pants. He went no further, merely traced slow circles over the edge of Bradley’s pelvic bone, where the skin was smooth and sensitive—and so incredibly close to Bradley’s cock. It had partially softened during his panic, but the onslaught of Colin’s kisses had sent it back to full staff, trembling for a touch.

“And risk a black eye? Or worse, risk ruining our friendship?” Colin pulled back and his brow wrinkled as a frown pulled at the corners of his lips. “Will this?”

“Will this ruin our friendship?” Bradley asked, trying to think beyond the overwhelming need to touch Colin and taste him and feel him. “I don’t… I don’t feel any different toward you. Just… more.”

Colin’s eyes fluttered shut, but the tension around his mouth disappeared. “God, Bradley, I want to touch you,” he said, and then he did. His fingers wrapped around Bradley’s cock with a firm grip.

Bradley’s fingers had dropped away from Colin’s chest and he allowed his hand to move lower. The backs of his knuckled grazed Colin’s cock—thankfully just as hard. Colin moaned lightly and Bradley pushed his pants down to grasp it, registering the differences between them only in passing.

He stroked, marvelling at how the angle seemed so awkward—the familiar motions would be backward and require adjusting. His breathing hitched when he realized Colin seemed to be having little trouble with the mechanics. Colin’s thumb brushed over the wet tip of his cock and he retaliated with the same movement, grinning at the response.

The fur coat, shaken free by their actions, rustled to the floor, leaving them open to each other’s stares.

“Good,” Bradley said, panting. “I don’t want that… to get stained.”

Colin burst out laughing and the sound was delightful enough to send Bradley over the edge. “That coat is hideous,” Colin said in a breathy voice as Bradley’s hot fluid spurted over his hand.

“It’s a lovely coat,” Bradley said and kissed him, barely able to think through the brilliance of the sensation.

“It’s atro—” Colin’s disparaging remarks were silenced by Bradley’s tongue. Bradley twisted his hand with a practiced movement and Colin’s prick immediately pulsed in Bradley’s hand while his attempt at words turned into a muffled cry.

“Never mock the coat,” Bradley warned in a stern tone.

Colin sagged back against the mattress, looking completely relaxed and delicious. “I stand corrected he said primly with a Merlinesque smirk. Bradley leaned down and kissed him again before letting go his prick and wiping the back of his hand up and over Colin’s side.

Colin broke the kiss with a laugh. “Prat!”

Bradley smiled, feeling happier than he had in ages. “There is water outside. You’ll have to go and fetch it, this time.”

Colin sobered instantly and his eyes flew to the door. “Shit. The car…”

“Yeah, it’s pretty totalled. We’ll go search for the phones in the morning. Your gran is probably worried sick.” Bradley frowned. “Maybe I should…”

“No.” Colin shook his head severely. “No. They’ll be glad enough we’re both alive. A few more hours won’t matter.”

Bradley sighed and moved forward to wrap Colin in an embrace, thankful and amazed that what had already existed had not disappeared, it had merely changed.

“A few hours?” he repeated.

“Yeah,” Colin said.

“What shall we do with that much time on our hands?” Bradley asked in a purring tone.

“I’m sure we’ll think of something.”