Louis Garneau and Bradley James (bjames): a day off
players only. the day after Louis gives Bradley his spanking.
Just as he'd thought, the sprinting runs and hard kicks of the match have actually helped ease the tight ache of muscles in his buttocks and thighs, and Bradley slaps hands with one of the sound guys--who'd delivered a stunning slide-tackle earlier, put Bradley right on his back and saved a certain goal--and walks off the pitch, laughing, wiping his face with the hem of his jersey. He'll be sore later, but right now he feels fantastic.
He can see Louis sitting near the small group of onlookers who always gather to watch the Saturday matches. He wonders if anyone'd convinced him to bet, and if he's been properly harassed by Colin and Angel, and if so, how it went. He seems to be chatting with one of the camera crew, but the girl drifts off with a smile and a wave as Bradley walks up.
"We won," he crows, entirely unnecessarily, since Louis has been there since the kickoff. "Second week in a row. AND my first hat-trick." Not that he'd been playing super-hard to show off, or anything. Of course not.
"You played wonderfully," Louis says, grinning widely. "Congratulations." His voice lowered a few notches as he asks, "You weren't too sore?"
"Right at the beginning," Bradley admits, glad his face is already red from all the running so that his flush won't be visible. "But it worked right out, mostly. I dunno if there's bruises or not. Don't suppose you'd like to check for me?" He shoots Louis a totally cheeky grin, still flying high off the win.
"I'd love to," Louis answers, eyes going sinfully dark for a moment. "Here?" He grins.
Bradley's eyes widen hugely and he whispers a scandalized "NO!" before realizing that Louis is teasing him. "Oh, that's not on," he protests, then, giving Louis a light punch to the shoulder. "Not nice, not nice at all."
"Really? I thought it was quite nice of me to offer," Louis teases some more, unable to keep from laughing. "What now? Drinks with your friends, or home and shower?" He's not really sure what's on the schedule, only that he wants to spend as much time with Bradley as he can today.
"We mostly go our own ways after the match. *After* showering of course," Bradley makes a face at his own smell. "Generally it's every man and woman for themself, Saturday nights. The marrieds get together with husbands and wives and such, some of us might go out for a pint or watch telly. Since you're here, I'm guessing you might have some idea of how to rescue me from a night of bad beer and worse French TV shows?" He grins at Louis hopefully.
"I think I might," Louis says with a nod, still keeping his voice lowered, "but before I take terrible advantage of you again, I should probably feed you and maybe encourage some of your other hobbies. Have you been to Rocamadour?"
"That's in the tourist guide," Bradley thinks out loud, starting to take off his shin guards before wandering back towards the hotel and trailers that they call home. "It's a town, right? What other hobbies? I can tell you now, I've no wish to be on horseback today." He bends down to unlace his cleats, winces. "Or for the foreseeable future," he mutters, mostly to himself. His bum itself is actually fine...but quick movements spark a dull internal ache from all the unaccustomed penetration.
"I was thinking the one which brought us together in the first place," Louis says dryly, amused at all the muttering, his gaze wandering over Bradley's backside - which he would quite seriously like to inspect for bruises. Up close. "Your camera? Photography? And yes, it is a town. It's set into--" he stops himself. "Trust me, you need to see it, and we probably have enough light still if you feel like a drive and maybe dinner there."
"That sounds good. Fair warning, I'll probably make a pig of myself," Bradley straightens back up, stretches, then shakes out his legs and arms, making sure his muscles cool down properly. "Football brings up quite the appetite. Just let me dash and have a quick shower so I don't drive you out of the car with the smell, and I'll meet you at your car? I'll just be a moment."
Louis nods, starting back towards his car, and then calling out over his shoulder, "Don't forget to bring your camera."
"Won't forget it," Bradley calls back, and jogs off towards the hotel, not far away.
He showers in record time, swallows a handful of Ibuprofen, throws on whatever's clean, and has his camera all packed up in a matter of a few minutes.
Angel is in the hallway when he breezes past, and gives him a smirk and a thumbs up. "I'll ring you later!" he shouts over his shoulder. "Back tomorrow, or tonight, depends."
All in all, it's not even 15 minutes by the time he's trotting up to Louis's car. "Ready!"
"Good." The sight of the other man approaching has Louis smiling again. Unable to help himself. Idiot.
. He unlocks the car and opens the passenger door for Bradley. "If you see anywhere you want to stop, let me know. It's a very scenic drive and there won't be a lot of cars at this time of day, so we can pull over almost anyplace."
Louis's wide, white smile in his tanned face makes Bradley break out in a beaming grin of his own. God, he's so gone for this man. He's in so much trouble, here, but he's going to enjoy every minute of it.
"I'm standing ready." He lifts the camera that's hanging round his neck in illustration; it's the same one he'd had the day they met, his good camera. "I have to say, I'm bloody glad your goons didn't just stomp this. The BBC doesn't pay so well that I can just run off and buy another like this." It was a gift to himself, on confirmation of the "Merlin" job, so it has even more sentimental than monetary value.
"They're not goons," Louis protests, laughing, waiting until Bradley's settled in the car before closing the door and going around to the driver's side. "They're security and they're very well-behaved. They don't smash cameras until they know for sure you're paparazzi," he says, getting in and buckling up his seat belt.
"Uh huh," Bradley answers, shooting a skeptical glance sideways. "They were big, loud, and they searched my rental car and dragged me off to stand before the lord of the manor--remind me to thank them for that bit, by the way--in a highly goonish fashion. But a rose by any other name, I suppose." He wiggles a little until he's comfortable, looking around the posh car interestedly. "It's quite a mindfuck, learning to drive on the wrong side," he comments, as they get underway.
Louis thinks about that for a moment. "Yes, it would be," he says. "I have to admit, I don't usually drive in other countries. Cit--" Merde.
"Our organization has a fleet of private cars and I tend to make use of them when I'm working, but this," running a hand over the console between them, "this is my personal baby." He grins over at Bradley.
Bradley's ears prick up a little at what he can tell was nearly a slip--and he STILL can't figure out what Louis is being so closedmouthed about, with his work--but he just repeats his internal mantra of 'I will not pry, I will not pry,' and ignores it as best he can.
," he laughs, instead. "The way you're petting it, there, I almost feel like I should be jealous. Tell me about it, you're clearly dying to brag."
Louis laughs. "Not dying to, but I am proud of it. I always wanted a Maserati when I was younger and it was a present to myself on my 30th birthday."
"I'm almost afraid to touch anything," Bradley teases, holding his hands out in front of him in a great show of care. "It's too fantastic to smudge it up with fingerprints. Holy shit!" as Louis accelerates, "it's like being in a plane or something, on the way to takeoff! I guess we won't be missing sunset after all."
"It's an eight-cylinder engine, 440 horsepower," Louis says, grinning. "Wait until we get out of town a bit and I'll show you what it can do." He glances over. "But you're welcome to touch it. I believe possessions are meant to be enjoyed, not simply put on a pedestal to admire."
Bradley's eyes go a little wide. He's no gearhead, but he knows enough about cars to understand that this is a fairly extraordinary machine. As he settles back into the seat--comfortable, buttery-soft, perfectly crafted to hold him comfortably--he feels a little like Cinderella being whisked away in the fancy coach to a ball, or something.
He shakes his head, grinning at himself. Cinderella indeed. His feet are far too big.
"It's fantastic," he tells Louis, honestly. And relaxes, running his hand over the smooth curve of the dash, admiring the styling. "And it'd be a crime not to use it, a machine like this. It deserves to be driven. Opened up to the limit once in a while, too."
"Speaking of which..." Now that they're out of the town and out on the open roadway, he shifts gears, slowly applying more gas and taking the next few curves at breath-taking speed, confident of his driving skills.
"Whoa." The G-forces kick him back into the cradle of the seat, and Bradley admires the way Louis double-clutches up past third gear and straight to fourth, the way he confidently handles the gearshift, the smooth shift of muscles in his thighs as he switches from gas to clutch and back again. There's a reason stick shift will never go out of fashion, he muses.
"That's ridiculously sexy," he informs Louis. "You'd better stop, or I'll have to snog you, and at this speed, it would almost definitely cause a wreck."
"Should I take that to mean I should slow down?" Louis teases, doing just that, although mostly because they're fast approaching another small town. He smiles over at Bradley. "Your friends are very nice, by the way. They were very friendly, welcoming..."
"I was going to ask about that," Bradley nods. "Did you get roped into making a wager on the game? Angel is famous for running the betting. And they didn't give you that bloody third degree of theirs, did they? I swear, it's like living with the family, all over again."
Louis nods. "I did and I bet on you," he says. "Made some money, maybe enough for dinner." He grins. "They had a lot of questions but I told them they would have to ask you for most of them." He glances over again. "I wasn't sure what you had told them about how we met?"
"The truth," Bradley shrugs. "I mean. Who could come up with a better story than that? Trespassing, the goons, then seeing this tall, mysterious, handsome stranger in a luxurious office, who asks you out for dinner. It's wilder than fiction, really. And that we hit it off...well, they already know that. It's not like I make a habit of running out to dinner every night, or staying out till the morning, or...well, any of it."
He glances at Louis sideways. "They don't know what we get up to in bed, if that's what you mean, though. That's between you, me, and the wall, as far as I'm concerned."
To be honest, it hadn't even occurred to Louis that Bradley might share details of their intimate encounters. "No, I wasn't worried about that," he says, shaking his head. "I simply wasn't sure what you'd said and I didn't want to contradict anything you'd already told them. Colin? He's the one, who turned out to be straight?" He'd found the boy less than attractive when he'd seen pictures of them together on the internet, but up close, in person, Colin's smile and personality had quickly shone through and he'd found himself appreciating his attraction for Bradley.
"Yeah, that's him." Bradley looks away for a moment, then back. "You don't notice the ears so much, in person, right?" He stops and thinks for a moment. "Do you know..." he starts, thoughtfully. "I haven't thought about that, not once, since our dinner date? That's...rather amazing. Not that I was pining away or anything," he adds quickly. "Just, the sting was there. It doesn't seem to be, anymore."
"I'm glad," Louis says, suddenly aware that he's barely thought about Adrian since meeting Bradley, despite his upcoming trip to New York. He starts to say something more but then points at the side of the road, slowly pulling over. "Look. Isn't that incredible?"
"Oh my god, stop, stop a minute, can you?" Bradley's poking at the door, trying to figure out which of the sleek, discreet little buttons controls the window. "I need a picture of that. Does someone *live* there? That's crazy!" It's a gorgeous little chateau, built out over running water on a great stone arch, old and warm-looking with the age. He gets the lens cap off and is clicking away even before the car is stopped all the way.
"You can get out," Louis says, unlocking the passenger door from his side, and joining Bradley by the water. "I think there's still someone living there. I'd have to ask my father. I think the family was trying to sell at one point but the upkeep for these places is incredible. I suspect they're still there."
Bradley's a little distracted by how close Louis is standing. He moves even closer, until his shoulder bumps up gently against Louis's arm, just enjoying staring at the gorgeous old house, the way the sunlight hits the stone and shines off the water and the ivy and the old, many-paned windows. "It's smaller than it looks, if you take away all that stonework at the bottom," he points out, voice quiet. "Just a couple of floors. Must be bloody fantastic inside, though." He snaps a few more pictures, then lets his camera fall and takes in the view.
"It is," Louis says with a nod. "I can ask and see if they'd let us inside another time, if the same family still owns it." He glances from Bradley to the house and then back again, sliding his arm around the other man and pulling him in a little closer. "You do realize I haven't touched you in hours
"How did THAT happen?" Bradley grins up at him, nudging even closer, until they're pressed together from knee to shoulder. "It's a travesty, it is. I think you should at least kiss me right now, so we can start making up for lost time."
And Louis does. He kisses Bradley, long and soft and slow, completely unlike their other kisses. No one watching, no sense of urgency behind it. Simply losing himself in Bradley's mouth.
This kiss is delicious. It's warm, and deep, and gentle, and Bradley just hums with delight as he presses against Louis, wrapping arms around his waist, soaking in the feel of him. Their tongues play together, sliding against each other, and Bradley sucks playfully on Louis's lip, before opening to deepen the kiss yet again.
Louis hardens the kiss, just a little, licking deeper into Bradley's mouth, exploring every part and nipping softly at his lips as he finally, reluctantly, draws back. Clears his throat, shifting slightly, his jeans much tighter than before. He grins, eyes sparkling. "Unless you want me to fuck you here, over the hood, I think we'd better get back in the car and keep going."
"It's a *little* public for that sort of thing," Bradley laughs, still pressed up against him, arms wrapped tightly around him, not letting go. Just enjoying all this contact. "And I dunno if my arse could handle it anyway. You've already fucked me rather raw, you know." He's curious to see how Louis will react to that news...if he'll hold back or be turned on by the idea, if he'll push to make Bradley even *more* raw than he already is. He wonders if Louis would be turned off by the idea that Bradley, deep down, wants that, so he just dangles it out there to see what Louis's reaction will be.
"So?" Louis leans in, whispers, eyes gone dark again, "Do you really think that'll stop me?"
"I...wasn't sure," Bradley gulps. Unable to look away from those eyes. "I don't know what the rules are, yet. I guess the answer's no?" His whole body tightens as he goes hard, his hole clenching convulsively at the thought of being fucked again, where he's already raw and aching. That delicious pain, even stronger this time. He shifts, restless, against Louis where they're pressed together.
Louis nods. "And this," he says, slipping his hand in between them, to cup Bradley's cock through his jeans, "tells me you want
it to be no." His other hand on the small of Bradley's back, holding him close as he strokes him through the denim.
"Y-yeah," Bradley stutters out the confession, eyes closing involuntarily as his head falls back. "I think, yeah, it's kind of scaring me that I want it to be no, so much. Oh fuck, that's so good." He presses his hips forward greedily into Louis's stroking hand.
"Mon dieu," Louis breathes, eyes locked on Bradley's mouth as he continues stroking him, caressing his rock hard cock, thumb rubbing over the head. "You have no idea of the things I want to do to you..." And how much he wishes they were somewhere, already, a little more private.
"You'd better stop," Bradley tells him, low and strained. "Because we're still right by the road and...and remember, we're going to dinner, and we're...you said, we needed to not have sex on the car, just a moment ago you said it..." he's babbling, knows it, can't stop. He can't believe how turned on he is, just with a kiss and some petting. He pants a little, licks his lips, and forces himself to step just a little bit away. "You can do those things to me. When we're by ourselves. Right?"
Louis nods, watching Bradley and tamping down hard on the urge to... do something unwise. "After dinner," he says, opening the passenger door again. "When it's darker and no one can see us." The words mostly
Bradley raises an eyebrow at him, but is getting better at telling when Louis--even behind that straight face--is kidding. And he's starting to get used to the old-world manners, to having Louis hold doors for him, and such. He reminds himself that this man is leaving for New York very soon, and that who knows what might happen after that.
He'll just have to enjoy it while he has it, is all.
He reaches over once they're back underway and puts his hand over Louis's, where it's resting on the gear shift. Just enjoying that he can, that he can touch when he likes. And that he's still hard.
It's a short drive from there to Rocamadour. It's getting later, the sun starting to set so Louis doesn't take them into Rocamadour itself but to the little town above, l'Hopitalet. The tourist buses have cleared out for the day and parking's easy to find. "We can come back another day and visit the town," he tells Bradley as they get out of the car and head for the overlook. "But the best pictures are from here."
"You aren't kidding," Bradley breathes, gazing out over one of the most fantastic vistas he's ever seen. The town is built into the side of the mountain itself, and in the slanting beams of the setting sun it looks like something out of a storybook, or a legend. He's got his camera up before he can think about it, snapping pictures, adjusting the focus and zooming in on particularly gorgeous spots. Making sure to get the pigeons settling on the slanted tile roof of a church, the way the light glints off the window of a row of houses and the narrow road, and the rooftop gardens that look like bits of the hill have grown over the roofs of the town.
"It's completely incredible," he says softly as the last light starts to fade into twilight, and he has to put his camera down. "*Completely.* I can't believe I haven't been before. What a fantastic idea to come here. You're brilliant."
"I enjoy getting to show off my country," Louis explains, smiling, looking out over the gorge, the view never getting old for him. "And I bet you've barely scratched the surface on your own." He turns to Bradley. "I can show you more when I get back from New York if you'd like. There are some magnificent castles and gardens, and have you been to La Roque Saint-Christophe?"
"I haven't. I haven't been much of anywhere, besides Paris and the airport," Bradley confesses, still looking out, soaking in the incredible view. "You'll want to get together again, then? Once you're back from New York?" He knows Louis had said something about not a casual fling, but there's a whole new vocabulary at work in this relationship. He feels a bit foolish for needing it spelled out, but with this wild new dynamic between them, he doesn't know the rules, and doesn't want to guess and guess wrong. "I do, want to get together, definitely," he hastens to add. "Just, with all this new stuff happening, I want to be sure we're on the same page."
Louis smiles. He glances around, making sure that they're pretty much alone, the rest of the sightseeing crowd having melted away, gone for the day or at least to dinner. "Let me put it this way," he says, putting an arm around Bradley's waist and pulling him a little closer again. "If you did not want to see me when I return, I would be incredibly disappointed."
"Oh, good," Bradley says, leaning against him contentedly. "I'd have been the same. Honestly, it's probably a good thing you're off for the week, since I've a brutal shooting schedule, and you're such a distraction I'd probably make a total arse out of myself in every scene. And speaking of arses, do you s'pose they'd laugh at me in the crew if I asked for an extra numnah? Only, to go OVER the saddle on the horse, not under?" He grins up at Louis.
"Probably," Louis laughs, finally turning them away from the view, "besides, I have a feeling you'll be asking me to make you just as bruised when I get back so you can keep feeling that pain."
"You're probably right on that, too," Bradley nods, letting Louis move him as he likes. He's half-drunk on the beauty of the sunset and the simmering sexual heat, the drive, and the prospect for more tonight. "I like how when I move, sometimes it just bites me a little...like a reminder. Problem is, it's making me walk round with half a hard-on all the time, which can be a little inconvenient in wardrobe." Not to mention the livid suck-mark on his neck, that had prompted teasing about vampires from Colin, and raised eyebrows from Angel.
"Well, we can keep that sort of thing to when you have time off if you want," Louis offers, willing to take his cue from Bradley at this point, mostly because he's very unwilling to risk scaring him off by not respecting his career or any feelings of true discomfort with what they're doing.
"It's not really a problem, just a bit of inconvenience right now," Bradley assures him, pleased at the offer, at the consideration Louis is showing. "I mean, if it was something where I couldn't ride at all, or do my stunts or action sequences, that might be different...now it's just a bit of a twinge here and there. No worse than what I get from a hard tackle playing footie."
"Good," Louis says, nodding and smiling, rather pleased that he won't have to hold back, well, not fully, after all. "I thought we'd eat here," he says, gesturing at the restaurant in front of them. "They have some lovely tables overlooking the gorge and they don't require fancy dress although the food is rather... more complicated than what we had the other night. Is this alright?" He points at the menu pinned behind glass. "They do have steak, and some pasta dishes."
"Are you implying that I can't handle your fancy French food?" Bradley laughs, mock-scolding. "I'll have you know I've a very adventurous palate. Mostly. Though I'll never say no to a nice bit of beef." He inspects the menu for just a brief moment, then nods. "It looks perfect. Let's go on in. I'm starving!"
After dinner, they make it through a quiet walk around town, strolling hand in hand, talking about Bradley's work and friends and both their families. And then it's back into the car, Louis having successfully resisted the urge to molest the boy in some dark corner or alley, the lights in the parking lot ruling out the hood as well. "My place?" he confirms, expecting he'll make the drive in record time, so badly does he want to get his hands back on Bradley and show him more of all the things he's been missing.
"I think it's for the best," Bradley nods, whole body tightening with anticipation. "I don't think I can be quiet. But I've a voice call early tomorrow...and you're welcome to come back with me, get the twopence tour in the morning, if you like. Stay over. Experience the great pleasure of a midrange hotel bed and terrible catering coffee..." he laughs.
Louis smiles over at Bradley. "I'd like that. I have to go in to work tomorrow but it's not a long drive." And certainly not one he minds making.
"Fantastic," Bradley smiles back, pleased. Since Louis leaves for NY so soon, he's willing to snatch as much time as he can, before they're an ocean apart. "I'm not lying about the coffee, though. Drink enough of it, it just might kill you." He settles back into the seat, then shifts. His jeans are uncomfortably tight, his cock swollen hard against the fly. Everything is magnified by the still-tender skin on his bum, the burning ache inside where muscles were stretched too hard and fast. The memory just makes him harder, and he squirms a little more.
The shifting doesn't go unnoticed. "Having trouble?"
"Just a little," Bradley mutters, shifting again, finally finding a position where his cock isn't killing him with pressure and friction, and his ass isn't sparking fire up his spine. He sighs a little and leans back. "Better. Won't be *all* better until we get where we're going, though."
"You mean until I'm tormenting you even more?" Louis grins.
"Pretty much, yeah," Bradley admits, even the thought bringing back some discomfort. "Ugh. How far away are we, again? I swear, I haven't been this quick off the mark since I was a *teenager.* This is ridiculous!" He grins at Louis, letting him know that it's pretty darn cool, no matter what.
"Maybe ten minutes," Louis replies, glancing at his watch and then over at Bradley. "Have you ever worn a cock ring?"
"What? No." Bradley supposes he's going to have to get used to these sorts of questions. "I thought those were only for blokes that had trouble staying hard, and I've no problems in that area!"
Louis laughs, shaking his head. "I'm well aware you haven't but they can also be used for making sure you don't come."
"Oh." Bradley ponders this, turns it over in his mind. "And that's something I, you...people, want to do? Make sure someone doesn't
come?" The whole idea is kind of a shivery new thing, exciting and strange. "Isn't the whole point to make the other guy come? I mean, mostly."
That gets a soft chuckle, Louis having forgotten what it's like to deal with someone so
new to this. Even their trainees usually come to Sarlat somewhat prepared. "Not coming... prolongs things, intensifies them... gives your partner control over when you do
get to come..."
"Wow. Wow. That's not even something I'd thought about. That you could even do that, control when someone comes and how, and that. You could probably even keep someone from coming at all, huh?" He squirms, heat building deep inside, whole pelvis starting to ache with his frustrated erection. He can't believe how turned on the idea is making him, that Louis could decide when he comes, if he comes, could have that kind of control of his body.
Louis nods, shifting a little himself. "Yes. For days. You can come through a cock ring, although depending on what kind and how tight it is, it can hurt, but there are things called cock cages. They're like a chastity device for men and they lock around you, cupping your cock, so you can... use the washroom as you need to, but not touch yourself otherwise."
"Oh," Bradley whispers, his mind full of static and wild imaginings of what that must be like, something like that, on him and keeping him from coming. At all. Not even a wank. He squirms *hard* and then forces his mind back to the conversation. "That's...really intense. Right? I mean, you'd have to give it all up to the man who put that thing on you. He'd really have control of it all, wouldn't he. I think I've some Googling to do when I get home." He is even sweating a little, some of it nerves, most of it how intensely he's aroused and fascinated by this whole concept.
"I can send you some books if you'd like," Louis offers, noting the squirm with another shift of his own. Mon dieu. "Most of the ones I have on hand are in French, but there are some very good ones in English, and there is a lot of misinformation on the internet. There are some good sites too, but I think it's too early for you to be able to tell which is which."
"I'd have no clue," Bradley admits. He watches Louis shift in his own seat, feels a burn of heat at knowing he's not the only one turned on, here. "Most of what I've seen is in porn, and I'm well aware that's not exactly true to life. I'd be delighted to have the books, the English ones. Do they have pictures? Not much of a reader, me."
"Some of them do," Louis says, nodding, laughing a little as they finally arrive in Sarlat. "I'll keep that in mind when choosing them but I do have one I want you to read and while it has some illustrations, it's mostly text. Not difficult text though, and I think you'll be interested in the subject matter which is always important if you don't enjoy reading." He picks the first free parking spot closest to the centre.
"I'll try to read it all," Bradley says, getting antsy as they park, unfastening his seatbelt even before Louis turns off the ignition. "I've only read a few books in years, and they all have the words 'Harry Potter' in the title. It's a bit embarrassing, but what can you do?"
"Relax," Louis tells him, getting out and coming around to meet Bradley on the sidewalk. "You don't have to read it all at once if you don't want to. You can use the index, look up things as we try them or as you're interested." He takes Bradley's hand in his, linking their fingers, and walking them quickly towards his place.
Louis's big, warm hand folded around his feels wonderful, and Bradley grins sideways at him, squeezing his fingers lightly. "I can do that, for sure. I'll even make it a nice discreet brown paper cover, like we used to with the lad mags back in school. It'll be a bit like a cookbook, a kinky cookbook. I'll only read the recipes that sound good."
Louis laughs. "That sounds like a good idea," he says, nodding as they make way through the cobblestone lanes, passing only a few other people on their path. "Which means if you get any packages from me while I'm away, you should make sure your friends are not around when you open them."
"I hadn't even thought of that," Bradley laughs, shaking his head. "It's going to be a struggle, we live in each others' pockets. I'll have to get a safe deposit box, something like that. A "do not disturb" sign for my door that blocks sound AND entrance." He bumps his shoulder against Louis's upper arm, just wanting the contact, enjoying the buzz.
"Not that you want to share," Louis says, reaching into his pocket for his keys as they reach his front door. "But do you think they'd be judgmental or disgusted if they knew? They seem very accepting of your sexual preferences."
"Well..." Bradley hums, thinking it over. "Not...disgusted. Judgmental, maybe, depending on what they saw? Some of them, anyway. I mean, some of them, they might be worried, too, if they saw bruises, things like that. I would've been, seeing them on someone, before realizing what might be going on. It's not so much that they won't ever find out, at least in theory...just not something to chat over coffee and biscuits about, really." He follows Louis quickly up the spiral stairs, right on his heels. "
Not coffee and biscuits outside Citadel anyway, Louis thinks, allowing himself a small smile at the thought. And then they're back in his place, the door shut behind them, away from prying eyes and ears, and he pulls Bradley toward him, sitting on the edge of the bed again, the boy between his legs. "I want to restrain you," he says, hands on his hips, pulling him closer. "Put a cock ring on you, and try some other things... how does that sound?"
Bradley wets his lips with the tip of his tongue, a nervous reflex. He nods carefully, wide eyes never leaving Louis's face. His cock is a solid throb of *want* against his fly, and the sooner he can get his trousers off...well, Louis can do whatever he wants, then, really. The now-familiar inside of the flat, Louis's warm hands, all steady him down and he nods again, more firmly. "I'd like that," he answers, voice a thin thread of sound.
"Good. Get undressed," Louis orders, sitting back a little. "And then you can undress me as well."
Eager to get his hands on Louis just as fast as he can, Bradley strips in record time, toeing off his shoes, dropping his trousers with a huge sigh of relief. As soon as he's naked he's on Louis, hands everywhere, stroking and petting and undoing buttons, gently tugging sleeves away and tossing his shirt over his shoulder. Then the jeans, a bit harder since Louis is sitting, but a quick shimmy and they're down his hips and off. He drops a quick kiss on Louis's knees, one then the other, before undoing his shoes and pulling the whole lot over his feet.
It might not be the most graceful undressing, but it's certainly efficient, and he stands back up proudly once Louis is naked, waiting for whatever comes next.
"Sometimes there's much to be said for eagerness over finesse," Louis murmurs, smiling, standing as well, his hands sliding down Bradley's back to cup his bruised cheeks, squeezing as he pulls him in close, their bodies aligned as he roughly claims his mouth with his.
Bradley kisses back with all the eagerness he feels. He can't stop moving in Louis's arms, squirming to get closer, to get his arms where he wants them, to rub his stiff cock against the roughness of Louis's thigh. "And to think, we made it all day, and you never once checked my bruises," he laughs up at Louis when they part for breath. "I didn't think we'd make it past tea time."
"I was behaving myself," Louis explains with a soft laugh, kissing Bradley again then gesturing to the bed. "On your back, legs and arms to the four corners," he says, cock jerking sharply with the knowledge of what's coming.
A little startled--he'd been expecting to be put on his face, and right quickly--Bradley still does as he's ordered, scrambling up onto the bed, spreading himself out like a starfish, flushing all the way down his chest with how exposed he is, now. His cock is stiff, leaking on his belly, and his balls are already drawn up tight against his body; he's been hard for a long time, today, and he's on a hair-trigger, he just knows it.
"Beautiful," Louis murmurs, watching Bradley. He walks around the bed to the nightstand and opens the top drawer, the one with the first aid kit, and pulls out two sets of padded cuffs, unclipping them so he has four separate ones. A leather cock ring, snappable, follows, dropped on the nightstand beside Bradley's head, and two clamps, light ones where he can adjust the tension, and a medium-sized black anal plug. "Have you ever used one of these?" he asks, holding it up for Bradley to see.
Eyes even wider than before, Bradley shakes his head where it rests against the bedspread. "Dildos and vibrators," he rasps out. "Never one of those before. It's pretty big." He keeps glancing between Louis and the wicked-looking little pile of toys, gleaming in the low light. His mouth is dry and his belly is tight with tension, and his hands clench and unclench with the effort he's making to stay still, not squirm, not move around like his naturally restless, active body wants to.
"Not as big as my cock," Louis teases, picking up the cock ring and climbing onto the bed, between Bradley's thighs.
"That's true," Bradley grants, craning his head up to watch what Louis is doing. Even the feel of skin-on-skin when Louis settles between his spread thighs is enough to make his cock jump with his pulse, red and hard as steel.
Louis wraps the leather band around Bradley's balls and the base of his cock, fastening the snap tight but not too tight, his eyes flickering from his hands to Bradley's face and back again. "How does that feel?"
The feel of his balls being pulled down, stretched, pressed against his cock is a new one, and the tight pressure around the base of his cock is strange, but incredibly sexy. Bradley blinks a few times as he processes the new sensations. "Feels good," he says quietly, finally. "Like a hand, almost, but rougher. It hurts a little but in a good way."
Louis nods. "Good. That's how it should feel," he assures him. He reaches for the padded cuffs, fastening each around a wrist or ankle before attaching the other end to the bedposts, the links shortened enough to give Bradley some room to move and not fatigue too quickly but still have him definitely restrained.
Unable to resist, Bradley tugs gently on the arm restraints, then a little harder, before giving up and letting his arms fall back on to the bed. His legs are next, and he even throws his hips into it; the bedframe is solid, though, and the restraints don't give an inch. He's panting a little when he subsides, his head starting to swim with it, that deep calm floating feeling already starting inside him.
Chuckling softly, Louis shakes his head. "You're not getting out," he says softly, bracing his hands on either side of his shoulders and dipping down to kiss Bradley, hard, teeth nipping sharply at that pouty lower lip. "Not until I let you out, and I haven't even started."
"Just checking," Bradley breathes against his mouth. "Wouldn't be any fun if I could just break them. This is fun, though. Very fun." In a way that's brand-new to him, too, twisting up his insides, and he's awfully glad of the cock ring. He shivers at the slick nip of those white teeth, and tips his head back instinctively, baring his throat.
Kissing a soft path down that mostly unmarked skin, Louis moves lower, flicking his tongue over Bradley's left nipple before taking it into his mouth and sucking lightly.
Though his nipples have never been very sensitive, Bradley's entire skin feels alive with nerve endings right now...he sucks in a breath as he feels the warm mouth close around the little nub, sighing at the pleasure.
Back and forth between nipples, Louis sucks and licks and bites at both nubs until they're wet and red and rigidly hard.
Finally giving in to the urge, Bradley twists under Louis, up into the wonderful weight of his body, rubbing hips up against his chest, struggling a little to get one leg up and around him before remembering that he's bound. That makes him moan, helpless against the sensation that he's unable to move, that he's at Louis's mercy. That he has no control over what happens next at all.
Bradley'd enjoyed being spanked, and fucked, but Louis still isn't sure about the depths of his masochism, and the clamps are one way of finding out. He reaches over and picks up the first one, tweaking Bradley's nipple to its hardest point before clipping it on, his eyes locked on Bradley's, eager for his reaction.
Bradley sucks in a huge breath at the sudden, burning pain. His eyes go huge and he holds his breath, letting it out explosively after the first red wash of agony has passed. He thinks he's probably lucky that he's never been sensitive there or he'd be jumping out of his skin; as it is, the pinch and bite and low, slow burn just makes him even more aroused, even more needy, and his next breath comes out on a moan. "Oh god...feels so good..."
"Yes?" Louis smiles, pinching Bradley's other nipple to stiffness and applying the second clamp, his own cock so hard already that he can barely breathe.
The second clamp is less of a surprise but no less painful, and it's like a live wire has been run between his nipples. He's never been so aware of them in his life, all his attention on the throbbing, burning feeling, so tiny and focused but so powerful. He's broken out in a sweat, the pain sliding through him like an aphrodisiac, making him toss his head against the bed and moan again, a hoarse, needy sound.
"You like that, don't you?" Louis murmurs, not really expecting an answer, not a verbal response anyway, and the physical one he's getting is crystal clear as they say. He runs his fingers lightly over the clamps, back and forth from one to the other, twisting them gently, careful not to push too hard too soon. And then he's reaching back up, over Bradley's head, their cocks brushing, for the plug and a packet of lube.
Bradley can't really focus enough to talk; the shock of feeling when Louis's cock drags over his own sets him shivering and bucking against the restraints. He'd almost forgotten, in the focus on his nipples, about the rest of his body, but now it all comes roaring back and he's almost in overload. He closes his eyes tightly, breathing slowly just to get himself back under control, even as he listens to Louis moving around over him.
"I want you to relax for me," Louis tells him, wickedly brushing their cocks together once more before kneeling back between his legs. "This is going to feel very different from the dildos and vibrators you've used before," he warns, slicking the plug with a thick layer of lube. "The bottom flares and it's going to feel like it's stretching you open, like you won't be able to take it all, but you will," he promises, spreading Bradley's cheeks with one hand and putting the tip to his hole, and slowly, so slowly beginning to push it into him.
Listening and nodding, Bradley has steadied his breathing to a point where he's more relaxed, even when Louis teases his cock again. The descriptive words give him a moment to prepare, and he's so grateful that Louis is telling him what's happening as he goes; it keeps him calm, keeps him in the moment, and reminds him that he's in good hands.
The best hands, he's starting to think.
As the plug presses into his sore hole, he starts to whimper and thrash a little again. Already red and raw, the stretching burns in a totally different way than the clamps, a spiky shock that twists up his spine. He tries to raise his knees, pull his legs up to ease the entrance, but his bindings keep him flat on the bed. He has to lie there, has to endure this, and he sobs once before relaxing and just letting it happen. Pain and all.
When it gets to what must be the widest point--it has to be, he'll be split open if it isn't--he screams, but doesn't move, not even to fight the cuffs, cock completely wet at the tip, totally drowning in the sensations.
"That's it. Good boy," Louis murmurs, steadily pushing the plug in until Bradley has all of it, his hole clamped down tight around the neck, the base flat between his cheeks. "There you go." Palm pressing against the end, rocking it into him, knowing there's no way Bradley would have made it to this point without the cock ring.
The inexorable, inescapable stretch finally eases as the plug slides home, settling into his body like it was made for him. As Louis moves it back and forth, pressing against his prostate again and again, Bradley's chest heaves with his gasping breaths. He's strung thin as a quivering wire, hanging from the cuffs, sunk down so deep inside himself that it's all he can do to keep breathing, keep riding the waves of sensation that are crashing over and over him. His lips are red and puffy from where he's been biting them, his eyes nearly closed, and he moves as Louis moves him, passive and receptive.
Louis sits back on his heels, watching for a moment, taking in the sight before him, his own cock hard, red, leaking, his hands stroking up the insides of Bradley's thighs. "You are so beautiful," he whispers, letting his fingertips tease over Bradley's balls before shuffling lower on the bed, his head dipped, mouth placed on the skin where his hands have already been, licking and sucking and nibbling and biting his way up the inside of Bradley's leg to his upper thigh.
After the sharp bite of the clamps and the burning stretch of the plug, Louis's hands and mouth are like soothing cool water...no less pleasurable, just another delicious sensation to process. The tension in Bradley eases as he relaxes, again, letting go of the tight-strung tension. He moans, whimpers, even cries out when the fingers touch his sac, swollen and hot from constriction by the ring. He gets his eyes open, wanting to see, wanting to process this with all his five senses, even if touch is overwhelming everything else.
"You're gorgeous," he murmurs back, words almost slurred, but still understandable. "So good. Amazing."
"So are you," Louis says, lifting his head for a moment before moving his mouth up the inside of the other leg, his teeth leaving marks in the skin that he knows will bruise, each carefully placed so Bradley won't have to explain them at work. "And you taste good. So good." His mouth hovering over Bradley's balls now, blowing on them, tongue flickering out to taste, tease, lick along the edge of the leather band binding them.
Bradley's mouth is hanging a little open as he struggles to keep breathing. The feelings are so heightened that every breath, every touch, hits him hard, and he instinctively tries to reach for Louis's head, to touch his hair, urge him closer. He's brought up with a jerk at the end of the cuffs, and hisses his frustration, hips lifting as much as they can, begging for more. Of course, that moves the plug, which rubs his prostate, and he's back down flat on the bed instantly, gasping, mind a complete blank. He can't believe he hasn't come yet. He can't believe Louis's patience. He can't believe how hard he is and how turned on he is and how intense this is and how much he loves it, loves it, wants it to keep going on and on even as he's praying to be let come.
Bradley's struggles only serve to feed Louis's arousal and he smiles, eyes dark as he moves upwards, tongue swirling around the tip of Bradley's cock before he closes his mouth over the head and sucks
Bradley's cock has been hard for so long now that it *hurts,* the skin stretched tight and shiny-slick over the head, and he yanks HARD on all four cuffs as Louis takes it into his mouth. "FUCK! Oh fuck fuck fuck fuck..." he's shouting, babbling, twisting against the restraints. Anything so he can thrust, get more friction from that hot mouth, get more suction, get more *anything.* He's out of his mind, completely lost, and loving every second.
Louis pulls back, keeping to the head alone until Bradley settles a little and then, relaxing his throat, he slides down, taking him deep and then deeper still.
That insane heat takes him in, all the way to the root, and Bradley's so close to coming he can *taste* it. He can actually feel the orgasm starting, but it's blocked by the ring. He's been in it so long that it's tighter even than when Louis first put it on, and he's wildly, irrationally grateful for it. He doesn't want to come yet. Doesn't want this to be over.
Still, he cries out at the frustrated pressure, the way his whole lower body seems to cramp and ache and lift. Twisting, he shifts the nipple clamps again, and this time his cry has a tang of real pain to it.
His head bobs up and down and his cock throbs roughly with every cry, Louis's own arousal spooling tighter and tighter. He teases Bradley, pushing the boy closer and closer to the edge until he
can't stand it any longer, can't hold back, and then he's shifting upward again, straddling Bradley's chest, cock in hand, brushed over Bradley's lips. "Open," he demands.
Mouth dropping open instantly, Bradley licks greedily at the head of Louis's cock, craning his own neck so he can reach more, tongue lapping and licking like Louis is a delicious treat. He wants more, makes a little needy sound while he's still licking, hoping Louis will give him more.
Groaning raggedly, Louis feeds his cock into Bradley's mouth, tilting his hips and pushing deeper, one hand braced against the wall above the bed. "Oui, that's it," he murmurs, voice thick with need, with the flush of pleasure through his entire frame.
It's thick, heavy, tastes of salt and musk and Louis, and Bradley laps at it as it slides into his mouth, then latches on and sucks. Hollowing his cheeks, humming and snaking his tongue around the shaft, he feels the head gently bump the back of his throat. Fighting down the gag reflex he sucks even harder, head bobbing as much as he can with his limited range of motion. His mouth is wet, and feels swollen and perfect and so, so good.
Eyes half-closed, locked on those perfect lips, red and swollen, stretched around his hard aching flesh, Louis pushes deeper, feels the boy start to gag and pulls back just a little before thrusting again, three quick jerks of his hips before he's coming, thick and hard and heavy, flooding Bradley's throat.
Louis's cock pulses against Bradley's lips, and it's the only warning he gets before he's swallowing frantically, gulping, struggling to get it all down and breathe and by the time he swallows again, he's almost lightheaded. He keeps sucking, too, wanting the last bitter drops he can milk out of Louis's cock, and cleans him gently with his tongue, even as he softens in Bradley's mouth.
Good god. Louis tilts his head back, savouring the feel of Bradley's mouth around him, then finally, reluctantly, pulls out. He slips back down Bradley's body, mouth pressed to his ear, whispering, warning, "This is going to hurt, but when you get through the pain, I'll let you come," he promises, fingers reaching for the first clamp, the tension increasingly slightly in that moment before he releases it.
Bradley isn't experienced enough yet to know how to manage *this* level of pain, and he screeches and bucks as the clamp is taken off. Ten times worse than when it was put on, and he pants, staring at Louis with wide, blank eyes, knowing there's another one. Knowing that it will hurt just as much. So close to the end of his endurance that he is shivering, now.
"One more. Last one," Louis promises, pushing no further, his body weight pinning Bradley to the mattress as he reaches under them with one hand, fingers unsnapping the cock ring at the very moment he releases the clamp.
"AAAGH," Bradley can't keep it in anymore as the last clamp comes off and is very grateful they're not in his hotel. The pain is sharp, so intense he sees flashing lights for just a moment, but the simultaneous release of the confining pressure on his cock confuses the signals to his brain.
Pain is translated as pleasure. Nerves fire, off-schedule. Slow, sluggish, almost as if pushing through a heavy weight, he starts to come. His hips jerk up, up, up against Louis's body, cock rubbing through the wiry trail of hair on his belly, and with that last rough contact his balls contract and it's like flipping a switch. This time the sound he makes is raw, pure pleasure, mindless as he ruts through his orgasm.
Distantly, he realizes that Louis timed it precisely for this very thing, that he wants the clamps back, now, when he'd not been sure before, that the two are linked together. The agony and the orgasm, together. He feels like he's coming forever, and when he's done, he collapses like a hollow shell, completely spent.
It's mind-blowing, watching - and feeling - Bradley come apart like that.
Finally, releasing a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding, Louis kisses him, softly, lips brushed across lips, whispering terms of endearment, of reassurance in both languages, confident it's the tone that matters, the affection and concern behind them. He works quickly to unhook Bradley's arms and legs from the bedposts, their bodies entwined as he unbuckles the cuffs and shoves everything from the bed, wrapping himself around the boy. "Good boy," he whispers, kissing him again, the covers pulled around them both. "You were so good for me."
Bradley murmurs wordlessly and curls as close to Louis as he can physically get, his shoulders stiff but not painful, still deep in that dreamy place where Louis has taken him. His eyes are still closed, even, and he presses his mouth, his nose, into Louis's neck and chest, tasting and scenting him, listening to the warm flow of words and feeling the stroking hands. Just soaking it all in, balm to his raw nerves and scrambled thoughts.
He hears the "good boy" and relaxes even more, a little smile on his mouth. He'd done well, pleased Louis. It makes him warm in places he didn't even know he had, hearing that.
Louis rubs Bradley's back, holds him close, the lack of penetration, of condom, meaning there's no rush to move, to clean up, nowhere to go, nothing except this quiet, warm, patient waiting for Bradley to slowly come back up, come back to himself, for him to suggest the next move in how he eventually responds.
Even though he's resisting it, the real world gradually starts to filter back in to Bradley. With a long, shuddering sigh, he finally opens his eyes, blinking a little. Louis is the only thing he can see, they're pressed so closely together, and that's the most wonderful thing. He finds himself smiling, maybe a little goofily. Shifting, testing how he feels. No worse than before, though his nipples sting a bit.
He feels good. Tired. High as a kite, almost certainly.
He tilts his head to meet Louis's eyes, still smiling. "Hi," he says, not letting go where he's holding on tight.
Louis smiles back. "Hi." He tilts forehead against forehead then kisses Bradley softly on the mouth. "How do you feel?"
Bradley kisses back. "I feel...funny. Kind of stoned. Every time I move the plug is still getting me, too, it's...good. Even after everything." He's kind of surprised he's not just numb. "I feel good." It's true. He's nearly tingling with aftershocks, still. "How about you?"
"Very, very good," Louis answers. "I wasn't sure how this would go, how far I could push you... but it felt like we were in sync, the way you responded to everything," he smiles. "It was perfect."
"I can't believe I liked it that much," Bradley confesses, still talking slowly and softly, still coming back to himself. "I *loved* it. Everything. Even at the end I didn't want to stop. I'm glad you did for me 'cause I'm so tired, and I didn't even know it."
Louis nods. "Playing like this is
very tiring, especially when you are new to it, and you may even feel almost jet-lagged tomorrow," he says, wanting to make sure Bradley's forewarned. "It's the endorphins, the adrenaline, the chemicals in your brain, they get fired up and mixed around and then you try to go back to normal and sometimes they react rather sluggishly."
"Oh. Makes sense. Seems an all right price to pay, really, since I don't think I've come that hard...ever in my life," Bradley admits. He carefully moves a little, stretching his arms and testing them, relieved that the stiffness is already gone. He doesn't even have any marks on his wrists, the cuffs were so soft. "That was clever, right at the end, what you did. I was worried, a bit, that when it came time to doing instead of just imagining, the stuff that really hurts, that I wouldn't like it so much, but...it was the opposite." He smiles at Louis again. "You definitely proved it, the best way possible."
That gets a soft almost-self-deprecating chuckle. "I did that because the way you responded to the first one coming off, I thought you might never let me touch you again if I didn't," Louis says, gently tugging Bradley even closer and kissing him again. "But I suppose I shouldn't tell you these things - simply let you think it's part of my brilliant plan?"
"Oh yes, just let me ooh and aah at your genius," Bradley giggles a little, warmed through by the closeness and the kiss. He never wants to move. Wants to stay like this forever, with possible breaks for more sex. "And...even the first one, it still felt good. I just, it was so new, I think my body just went on without me there for a moment. I'd *never* stop wanting you to touch me, god, that was beyond brilliant. My mind still isn't working quite right, and I don't care, and I just want to see what else there is that I've never felt before. It's amazing."
"Well, I leave for New York on Tuesday and tomorrow and Monday will be filled with all the things I have to do here in preparation but when I get back," he kisses Bradley again, simply because he can. "When I get back, I'll show you more. And we'll spend tonight together, at your hotel, and you can keep that plug in until the morning, unless you need to use the washroom."
Bradley flushes a little at the idea of keeping the plug in all night. It's surprisingly comfortable, a solid weight inside him, except when he moves and it brushes his prostate, sending a flare of pleasure through him. "That sounds great. It'll be strange, after spending all these days together, having you gone so quick. Guess I'd better give you my cell number, yeah? You can ring me when you get back." Determined not to sound too needy, even though he can't bring himself to move even an inch from Louis, still dealing with the aftermath of the scene.
Louis nods. "And you have my card still? The number on the back is my personal cell," he says. "It's always on and you can call me, day or night, if you need me or have any questions."
"Yeah. I've put it in my phone already," Bradley admits. "Hey, if one of my bruises goes nuclear, I'll call you right away. You just never know, right?" He grins to show that he's kidding. Sort of. What if something goes wrong with one of his nipples? Not exactly something he can ask the on-set medic about.
Louis laughs. "No, you don't," he says, thoroughly enjoying the way Bradley's both serious about this, and not. "And if you can't get me, you can call the other number, the one on the front, and you'll get Marie. She'll be able to hunt me down."
"That's good, then," Bradley nods, and sighs, settling his head down on the pillow. His eyes feel like they have weights on them, pulling the lids down, and he's suddenly feeling every little twinge, as the last of the endorphins and adrenaline start to wear off. "I feel terrible, but I think I've got to crash. Just for a bit. And then water, right? And then we can go back to the hotel for a proper sleep..." he's interrupted by a huge yawn.
"Water first," Louis corrects, starting to straighten out their tangled limbs. "Then
you can sleep for a bit."
"Noooo," Bradley grumbles, clinging like a monkey, stubbornly closing his eyes. "Why not sleep first?"
"Because it helps rebalance your system," Louis says firmly. "I'll be right back," he promises, reluctantly working his way free from Bradley with a mental note to himself to put the water beside the bed before they even start from now on.
"Ugh." It's cold and lonely in the big bed without Louis, and Bradley flops over on his back, taking the chance to stretch out all four limbs, arching his back...and freezing when the plug digs itself against his prostate. Much more carefully, he settles back down, reaching greedily for the water when Louis offers it, despite his protests.
"All right, you were right about that one," he admits reluctantly, after draining nearly a full glass. "That's much better. I should probably just stop arguing."
"Yes, you should," Louis says, laughing, his eyes sparkling. He ruffles Bradley's hair and takes the glass back, setting it on the nightstand, and crawls under the covers beside him, pressing close again. "You do realize that we're going to have to work something out," he teases. "I have a feeling come winter, we'll be very reluctant to get out of this bed and drive back to yours."
"I absolutely agree," Bradley says fervently, snuggled nicely into the cloud-soft bedding, the exquisitely comfortable bed, the gorgeous man beside him. "I think you'll agree even more once you experience the wonders of the hotel room bed I've been blessed with. If you have bruises after, from the broken springs, don't blame ME for them." He chuckles. "At least no one's even asked why we haven't come back to mine yet. Everyone else has the same beds too."
Louis laughs, tightening his arm around Bradley's waist and kissing his shoulder. "It wouldn't take that long for me to drive you to work in the morning," he says. "It's not that far out of the way." Adding quickly, "Not tonight, and it's not that I'm opposed to sleeping in your less-than-wonderful-sounding bed, but it's something to keep in mind."
Bradley chuckles again. "I do have a studio rental, you'd not need to drive ALL the time," he points out, enjoying the idea more and more. Especially as Louis is so free with the kisses, the touches, all the contact that Bradley loves so much. "I expect after a night in my less-than-wonderful bed, you'll agree that it's a great plan. Night shoots and things, and when you're working or away, well. Those are out for anything anyway." He glances at Louis. "I have no idea how often you'll want to see me when you get back," he confesses, "but I'm enjoying our time a lot. Anything that makes that go better is fine by me."
Having made plans for the future, even as vague they are, has Louis incredibly happy. "Good." He starts to ask how long Bradley will be in France, when their shooting wraps up, but instead kisses him again, softly, on the mouth, mindful of the late hour and the drive they still have ahead. "Sleep. We'll have plenty of time to talk when I get back."
"You sleep too," Bradley insists drowsily, "so you don't drive us off the cliff in that posh car of yours."
[feedback welcome. comments screened]