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Title: Bitten and Shy
Rated: PG-13
Fandom: BBC's Merlin
Summary: The sequel to My Story. Colin wants it to be permanent. Bradley doesn't.
Warning: Bloodplay.


Colin made a full recovery. And they waited a month before Bradley could feed again. The blonde scoffed. More like Colin pestered Bradley about feeding as soon as he could walk around again. They started off gently. A drop here, half of a milliliter there. Colin tempted him. God, Colin tempted him at every turn. Especially with how he would so "accidentally" cut his finger or bit his lip. Or not use lip balm so he would have cracked and sort of bleeding lips. The worst was when Colin wasn't even doing it on purpose. One day, he had a nosebleed. Bradley hated living up to the stereotypes of being so bloodhungry that he would pounce on anything. But seeing the blood soaked tissues tested his patience. He didn't feed from Colin that night. But he made sure that Colin couldn't remember his own name by the time Bradley was done with him.

He also stood closer to Colin since the incident. Always made sure the slighter man was in his line of sight. Their excuse was bantering. It didn't matter. The fans were sure they were buggering each other anyway. Might as well.

They had exhausted themselves and were laying in bed at one in the morning with quickly fading red lines along Colin's arms and scripts askew on Bradley's bed. "Turn me."

Bradley stiffened and he felt a cold chill run through him. "What?"

Colin propped himself up and looked at Bradley in the eye. "Turn me."

"No."

"Bradley..." The dark haired man shifted until he was sitting in Bradley's lap, straddling him. "I don't want you to be constantly afraid that I'll be taken again. So...maybe they won't if you did."

He gave a derisive snort. "No. They won't take you. They'll just kill you." With that, he slumped onto the bed and pulled up the covers. He could learn lines in the morning. They weren't that difficult. Sword, sword, die. The bloody wombat wasn't the only one that could instantly learn lines. Speaking of, Bradley could feel him. Could feel plump lips kiss his shoulder and a quick nuzzle.

"Sorry. Thought it would help with things." came the angry grumble.

Bradley didn't know it at the time, but things were going to be different from that night.

Even as filming wound down, everyone still doted more on Colin than usual. Which meant for an irate Bradley. Which meant Bradley didn't feed from the wombat. Which meant Bradley didn't feel well often. And finally, Bradley didn't feel well enough to bother getting up for the day. He still had sick days left and he'll damn well use them.

There came a soft knock on the door. "Bradley?" The blonde ignored his call. "Bradley, c'mon..." No. No c'mon. He buried himself under the covers. Maybe late into the night, he'll go down to the bar, nick a bit of blood just to get himself back on his feet...then came the sound of a door opening and closing with the lock sliding into place. He felt the mattress press down behind him and thin arms wrap around his waist. "I know you're not sick. Not really." Colin placed a kiss to his temple and nuzzled him from behind; the big spoon to his little spoon. And held him.

"It's not as sexy as True Blood makes it seem, Col." he managed to croak out. "Or any of those...vampire shows." He reached up and felt for Colin's warm hand. "I won't be chased away by garlic and there are many out there that are vicars and priests, hoping to atone for what they've done. But I've met so many that...they've lived forever, Col." He brought the pale hand up to his lips and nuzzled it. "Life isn't so precious until you've lost it and I don't want you to suffer that same fate. The loneliness of your family dying before you do. Having to avoid your mates because you don't want them finding out. The hunger...God, the hunger sometimes..." He shut his eyes and held on. "Sometimes I think I'd lose my mind if you weren't here, Col." he quietly admitted.

Colin was silent and simply curled himself against him. Bradley was grateful for it and simply held on. Colin was his anchor these days. Someone to keep him from completely losing it, from throwing himself into the colder recesses of emotion. He didn't think it were possible but...yeah, it sort of happened anyway. "Feed from me, Bradley." came his soft voice. The blonde opened his eyes to find Colin offering his wrist before him. "For as long as I live." He turned to see his costar, friend, lover, biting into his lip.

Bradley kept his eyes on him as he gingerly bit into Colin's wrist, moaning at the feel and taste of sweet, rich blood in his mouth. He wouldn't drain Colin. No, he cared about the wombat too much. His wombat. His. Always his. No one else's. For now. For forever.

Well... Bradley kissed the wound and Colin's fingers caressed his face. For as long as Colin would be on this earth at least.
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