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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
Series: Attraction (part 3/?)
Rating: pg13, borderline r
Disclaimer: Never happened.
note: The spacing went really funky. Er. Reviews most welcome - tell me what you liked, what you didn't like, etc.

Wake-Up Call
Yeah, yeah. I'm coming... Brad shuffled down the hall to the front door, flicked off the latch and opened it. He hated mornings sometimes and today was one of those times. It had been a busy night last night, with a show to put on and drinks with the boys afterwards. He hadn't been asleep for more than a few hours, and all he'd been woken up for was a package, which really didn't impress him much. Photos from his agent which he just signed off on, stifling a yawn. He was closing the door when something made him stop. Someone out there, by the tree in his yard. Someone slouched down with a lit cigarette in one hand, thumb of the other between his teeth.
Norman.
Brad watched the delivery guy drive off, then retreated, leaving the front door wide open. A few minutes after he'd dropped the photos on the kitchen counter and had two glasses of orange juice poured, he heard the door close. Listened to footsteps, the thud of a bag hitting the floor, and more steps. He looked up from starting coffee to see Norman grinning at him from the doorway.
You don't look very awake, Norman commented.
I don't feel very awake, Brad said, smiling because Norman was here. Standing in his kitchen and reaching for the glass of juice that was meant for him and just fucking here.
So go back to bed, Norman suggested, once he'd drunk all of the juice. I won't complain about a few more hours of sleep.
Brad forgot about the coffee in the face of that easy, sweet smile, and nodded. It's at the end of the hall, on the left. My bedroom. Let me go put the latch on the door again and I'll join you.
This wasn't neutral ground, Brad realised. Though, already, they were heading for bed together and, really? What did that say about him? Rubbing the heel of his hand down his face, he made sure the door was locked before going to his room. Norman was stood by the tall chest of drawers, examining the things on top of it. He just shrugged his shirt off one shoulder and tilted his head to one side and that alone drew Brad across the warm wooden floor to trace the tattoo on Norman's back and kiss skin that tasted like regulated air, and the thought struck him that Norman was careful about things like this. About cotton falling further down until Brad could see the shadows of his lower back, and about the sounds he made. Or maybe this was it, the reality of it, and everything before had been careful and calculated.
I need more sleep, Brad said, taking hold of Norman's shirt when it fell further so that it wouldn't drop to the floor. I can't believe you came.
Yeah. Well. Norman shrugged, turning a half circle to let Brad pull him into bed.
Yeah well what? Brad asked, waiting for Norman to kick off paint-flecked sneakers.
Stop talking. We can talk later.

Art/Lust
Just as it had been a drift into sleep (satisfied from the work of rough hands and rougher tongues), it was a drift out of sleep, the border between dreaming and the sight of sunlight (tinged blue by the drapes) on Norman's body a pleasant blur.
Brad lay still, enjoying the view for a while, not even touching. He still wasn't sure why or how Norman had found him, but it wasn't something he planned to spend too much time questioning. Studying closed eyes, the lower lip that was red in places from being bitten so much, twitching fingers and the way Norman's back played with light, Brad grew restless. Wanted those eyes open and looking at him, wanted nervous hands and teeth back on his skin.
So maybe it is only lust, he whispered, sliding his leg across Norman's and pushing himself up to kneel over Norman's pretty, pretty hard ass. Hearing Norman stir, he smiled, cocked out his elbows so that he could lean down and kiss unmarked skin between shoulder blades that were dusted with freckles. But I don't think so.
Huh?
Brad didn't reply.
Later
They were at the end of the garden, comfortably arranged on a blanket in the shade. Partly because it was cooler, but mostly because it was more private. Brad had asked if Norman wanted to go out, but the only reply he'd received had been a quirk of lips and later.
Right now, Norman was grinning at Brad's glasses. Their toes were touching, bare and grass-stained and a little cold.
They're cute, Norman said, reassuring. How come you didn't wear them before?
I thought I had to impress you. Brad smiled and lowered the book he'd been reading. Contacts, he explained.
I like these better. Norman stubbed out his cigarette in the patchy grass beyond the blanket's edge and moved again, rested his head on Brad's chest. We're lazy fucks, huh?
We'll do something later, Brad said, lifting his book with one hand so he could drop the other into Norman's hair. Go out, take a walk, look around. Like friends do.
Green, Norman murmured. That's my favourite colour, I guess. It's something a friend would know, right?
Yeah. Brad sighed. I'm glad you came. I missed you, if you can believe that. He felt Norman shiver and raised his eyes to look at the sky through the trees. He started to feel sorry he'd said anything, Norman was so silent and still. Red, he said. Cherry red.
I missed you, too.
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Attraction