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Attraction	By : Aja Category: Individual Celebrities > Brad Hawkins Views: 1086 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the celebrity I am writing about. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Pairing: Brad Hawkins/Norman Reedus Rating: R Disclaimer: Nope, never happened. Note: expansion on a drabble.
Point of Attraction
He’d seemed sort of familiar, this man with the faint bruise around his eye and the most jittery fingers that Brad had ever seen. This man who had confessed, after draining the last of his beer, that he'd never been to this place before, but hey, the entertainment was great (flirting, definitely) and, well, there was a first time for everything, right? Exhilaration from putting on a good show had made Brad feel bold, had made him rise to the flirting and ask for a name and, later, an address. Norman (Brad would never have guessed that name, but... yeah, it suited him) had simply said fuck addresses. Just come with me now. Hours and a couple more beers later, Brad had Norman pinned under him. Was kissing that bruised eye between sharp, panting breaths onto a closed eyelid, and squirming under fingertips that dragged, tickling, up and down his spine. He was pretty certain that those hands were never still, because he couldn’t remember them being so during the past four hours. He asked, touching his lips to faded purple and dull green, what happened? Norman just shrugged. Let’s just say gravity won a round. Sexy, isn’t it? Brad grinned. Admitted, Well, it won me over.
23 Days
Twenty three days after a quick 'see ya later' kiss, (the kind that meant 'thanks for the night of above average sex, maybe we'll do it again sometime but probably not), Brad was channel-hopping. So fast that he almost missed it, but, wait, hold on a second, said aloud as he flipped back a couple of channels. You.
The guy was an actor? Brad should have fucking known. Soft, pretty voice, smooth hands, yeah, Brad should have guessed right away. A lift of his hips, and he fished his cell phone from his back pocket. Didn't think he'd deleted the number, just knew that he'd never actually called it. He wondered if it was even a real number as he searched the list for it.
Norman. There you are. Thumb over the first number, Brad stopped. Why was he calling? Just because he knew what Norman was now? No, he told himself, I'm calling because he's fucking beautiful. He'd just needed a good excuse, it seemed, and hey, I saw you on TV just now seemed as good a reason as any.
Norman picked up after four rings, sounding sleepy. He didn't recognise Brad's voice, but knew the name when Brad told him. Oh yeah. You put on a good show, I remember.
Brad asked, right away (never was one to beat around the bush), if they could meet. To which Norman laughed and said sure, man, but I'm in New York right now. You want to come all that way out here?
Brad paused. Did he? Would he honestly go that far for a man he'd spent one night with? Then again, he didn't have anything planned till the following Monday, so what did he have to lose? Yeah. I can be there tomorrow night, just tell me where.
24 Days, 3 Hours, 16 Minutes
It was late, almost 1am, by the time Brad got to the hotel. He collected the key for a room he didn't plan to use, and headed up to the fifth floor, trying not to fall asleep in the elevator. Took the scrap of paper with the room number written on it out of his pocket as he walked along the corridor, though he didn't honestly need to look at it. Yawning and shifting his bag across to the other hand, he knocked gently on the door. Hoped Norman was still awake. Hoped he was there.
Sleepy, the eyes that looked out at him. Or maybe not sleepy, just tired-looking. You came... Norman seemed surprised, but stepped back to let Brad in anyway. I thought you were kidding me.
Brad shook his head, dropping his bag. I don't kid around. Didn't wake you up, did I?
Norman smiled, backing up towards his bed. I was just winding down. Feel like helping me out?
Sure. Feel like getting me a drink?
Smirking, Norman changed direction, headed to the mini-bar instead. Got a couple of beers out and - amazing - one of them was Brad's brand. Norman had remembered that? Brad stripped off his shirt, moving to where Norman stood opening one of the bottles. Pressed hot, dry lips to the back of his neck through hair that had definitely grown since the last time they'd been together, and wound his arm around Norman's waist to push his hand inside those baggy jeans.
You like acting? Brad asked, watching Norman put the bottle down. Rubbed his thumb back and forth over Norman's cock, listening to the change in his breathing.
Sometimes...
Not me. But then, I mostly got shit jobs.
Norman just made a quiet mmm sound, pressed back against Brad for support and sighed when the side of his neck was kissed.
I need a shower, Brad said, withdrawing his hand again to the tune of an indignant whimper from Norman. Coming with me?
24 Days, 3 Hours, 47 Minutes
Pulling the shower door back a bit, Brad threw the condom into the washbasin because he figured he would never make the bin on the other side of the room. That done, he attacked Norman's mouth again, scratched down his chest, over a nipple (that made Norman arch like a cat) and further down to his stomach.
Norman said something, muffled, repeated the Fuck when Brad released his tongue.
Was that... Too rough? Brad asked, stroking Norman's limp cock.
It was fine. Leave it, though. C'mon, let's get out of here, Norman said, insisted, pulling at Brad's hand. There's no fuckin' way I'm getting it up again tonight.
That just made Brad smile, satisfied with himself for satisfying Norman.
Yeah, yeah. It's been a long day, Norman said, chuckling. Come to bed with me, okay?
I was planning on it. Hm. What? Norman asked, trying to see what Brad was looking at.
Looks like you'll have a couple new bruises in the morning, Brad told him, fingering darkening skin.
Cool. That's cool... I mean, it's sexy, right?
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Attraction