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merlinrpf2009-12-30 08:10 pm
fic: the hour we knew nothing of each other
Title: The Hour We Knew Nothing of Each Other
Pairing: Bradley/Colin
Rating: Light r, just in case
Warnings: Language and angst
Disclaimer: Pure fiction. And the title was stolen from a play, which I know nothing about but really liked the title of.
Summary: They’d never been to Rome together each had been multiple times on their own and they’d tried once or twice in their early years, but their plans had always been thwarted. This time is no different.
Word count: ~1475
A/N: First fic in the Merlin community. Not really sure how I feel about the writing style, but I think it probably works overall. Also, the only thing I dislike more than writing happy endings is properly using commas.
“This isn’t working,” he said softly; followed by a too controlled, too even breath, betrayed only by the twitch in his jaw. “We aren’t working.” His hands fluttered between them, as though the wiggling of his fingers could ease the blow.
Bradley had meant to respond, but he was temporarily distracted by the way his heart had stopped, just stuttered to a halt and forgot to restarts itself. He clenched his eyes shut because that would clearly help. If he couldn’t see Colin then this wasn’t happening.
“-not you, really. Or me. It’s just us. We just don’t… I dunno, fit. I used to think we could, or did, but-“
“Yeah,” Bradley interrupted. He was pleased that his breathing was only a touch ragged and, he noted, his heart was finally beating again. He wasn’t sure he was happy about the latter fact because he was pretty positive that his heart was in the process of splintering down the centre and if it had just shriveled up and died like it had wanted to less than 30 seconds ago the slow shattering wouldn’t be a problem.
He couldn’t even say he was surprised, really. He had known- everyone had known- that they didn’t ‘fit’. Ages ago it was realized that they had virtually nothing in common with each other, except for the fact that they both liked to act and they both liked each other. He had actually pointed this out to Colin in the early days of their relationship- although they hadn’t been calling it that at the time, they’d just been fucking. The response had been a dismissive eye roll and a reassuring ‘it doesn’t matter’ followed by a rather passionate snogging session. In those days everything was followed by a snogging session.
Two years later they were in love and it continued to not matter, 3 ½ years after they were living together and it still didn’t matter. But now, almost nine years down the road, it suddenly mattered.
“What changed your mind?” he asked gruffly, looking around their sitting room. Looking at six years of their life and trying to pretend like it didn’t mean anything, like it was just a practice run for the real world.
Colin scratched the back of his neck and adverted his eyes. He didn’t say ‘my mother’s finally got to me,’ or ‘I’m ready to marry and start a family,’ or ‘I’ve found someone else,’ he just shrugged and said something in his thick Irish mumble and Bradley had no idea what it was. Despite twelve years of being friends, eleven years of loving each other, and seven years of seeing each other almost every single bloody day he still didn’t always know what Colin was saying and that, his brain supplied helpfully, was obviously the problem.
"I understand," he said, even though he didn't. "I'll go to Katie’s tonight." He couldn't remember the last time he had seen Katie, months ago it must have been. But she lived far enough away for him to get away, and near enough that he could probably make it there before he had a very unmanly breakdown. Which wouldn’t be happening, because this wasn’t happening (his eyes were closed again) and even if it was it certainly didn’t matter. Just like the years they’d spent together.
“You’ve not spoken to her since Christmas,” Colin protested, like that made a difference.
They could’ve not talked since the show wrapped six years ago and she still would have taken him in. (They’d promised each other as much the very drunken night before her wedding to a man he wasn’t altogether sure he approved of. And they had laughed when she pressed her key into his hands and giggled that he could always stay at hers if Colin was ever idiot enough to break it off. He had kept the key because, with unlimited access to her house, the pranking possibilities were endless, He mostly didn’t use it because Jonathan turned out to be a good enough guy except for the part where he didn’t really appreciate coming home and finding his kitchen covered in shaving cream. And there was that one time he had walked in on them having sex in the parlor which was, he claimed, a complete accident. He’d just needed to borrow one of her dresses for his niece’s costume.)
“I’ll be with her a few days, not more than a week. So let her know when we can come by and get my stuff. Just pack everything up and leave them by the door. Keep whatever you want.” He plucked at a loose thread on the couch. “Umm… there’s a smallish box in the closet. About this big,” he held his fingers about two inches apart. “You can keep it, or sell it, or throw it out. It was going to be yours next weekend. And here,” he opened the drawer of the end table and pulled out an envelope. “Two tickets to Rome . You’d be leaving from Heathrow at nine on Thursday and getting back Monday morning. And the hotel reservation is in there too.” Abruptly he pushed himself off the couch and made for the door.
They’d never been to Rome together- each had been multiple times on their own and they’d tried once or twice in their early years, but their plans had always been thwarted. Once by the death of Colin’s grandfather. (‘Fucking bastard, just like him to die when the entire family had other plans. Always wanted everyone else to be as miserable as he was,’ he had said as he furiously kicked his fully packed suitcase open before bursting into tears.) The second time technology had foiled their plans and forced Bradley to re-film nearly a week’s worth of material. (‘God fucking dammit,’ he had raged, unloading their suitcase from the boot of his car and chucking his mobile into the rosebush. ‘This was our only free weekend until December.) The third time was because of the weather, a horrific snowstorm that rolled in from seemingly nowhere and shut down all air traffic for days. (‘Really,’ Bradley had asked, incredulous as he attempted to wrestle his way out their front door. ‘Flight’s been canceled,’ Colin yelled from his seat on the couch where he was watching the news.) And after all the trouble it only seemed right to save Rome for something special. (‘You can propose to me there,’ Bradley had crooned. But since same-sex marriage hadn’t been legal at the time, didn’t much look like it would anytime soon either, they’d laughed that option off and settled on either 25th anniversary or 50th birthday.)
“Where will you go, after Katie’s?” Colin asked when Bradley had one hand on the door knob and the other grabbing his coat. “This is technically your flat.” And Bradley couldn’t help but laugh, because he had no idea where the fuck he was going after. An hour before he had been frantically making phone calls so he could get Colin’s name on the deed too.
“ New York ,” he surprised himself by saying. But once it was out it felt right. He had been receiving plenty of work offers from across the pond, but Colin had wanted to stay in the UK and those offers had always been put on the back burner or discarded completely.
Colin snorted. “Really? New York . You’re going to start over in New York ? Try and be more cliché.”
“Pretty sure you don’t have the right to comment on my life anymore.”
And that made him stop laughing. As though he was just now realizing that, yeah, Bradley was right and his mouth twisted down into a grimace because he was also just realizing that, maybe, he wasn’t ready to give up that right.
He looked down at the envelope in his hand, the two tickets poking out from the tear he’d apparently made. He could just make out the date, mocking him by being so close and just a little too late. The trip shouldn’t have been scheduled for another twenty years, their next huge life event, and there is was, only three days away. Which was wrong, because there was nothing important about Thursday-not a birthday, not an anniversary, it was just a Thursday.
“What’s in the box? The little one, in the closet?” He asked. He thought he remembered seeing it once, while cleaning. A little velvet box he had assumed was a Christmas gift for Stephanie. “What’s in the box?” He repeated, rushed and desperate.
And Bradley, already half way out the door, didn’t stop or even turn his head. Just pitched his voice so quiet that had every fiber of his body not been listening for the reply Colin probably wouldn’t have heard it and said “It doesn’t matter anymore.”
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Ignoring my initial 'ahhhhangstyending' reacstion, wonderful piece that broke my heart entirely, well done ;)
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And your comment might have given me a good idea for a potential sequel. oh the possibilities.
Also I really love your icon. :-)
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stupid Colin, breaking up before Bradley proposed to him :'(
This was so perfectly written. The angst was so strong, but not overpowering. My heart broke though.
I really hope you write a sequel where they're both in Rome at the same time or something and everything works out!
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