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It had been Harry's idea. Unsurprisingly.

Apparently it was a quiet bar. A small local affair that attracted a mostly local clientele. Harry's security guy had checked it out, spoke to the owners and pronounced it fine.

Andy was hovering over in the corner of the bar now, with a view of the whole of the place, able to monitor the entrance, the bar, the booths and the small and currently empty dance floor. Fionn had caught the other man's eye earlier as his gaze casually swept around. Andy raising his glass of coke in return.

It wasn't a club they were in but it was more than just a bar. The music that had started earlier in the evening had increased in both tempo and volume and although it wasn't anywhere near the level of some of the clubs he'd to back in London it was definitely easy to tell they weren't in their usual hotel bar or local Belgium pub.

"You're not as subtle as you think you know."

Fionn tuned to stare at Harry lounging in the corner of the booth. He frowned, eyes narrowing in confusion.

"Ni, mate. You've been staring off and on for the last hour."

"What?" he flustered. "I haven't." Fionn tried hard not to let the flush that threatened to rush up his face materialise. From the look that Harry shot him he hadn't succeeded. Shit. "Have I?"

Harry snorted. "I was actually expecting a bit more denial before you caved, but yeah, you have."

Fionn sighed and slumped back against the seat back.

"Relax." Harry took a pull of his beer. "Although I have the observational skills of a hawk," he puffed up, " I don't think anyone else is really looking." He glanced over to the bar where their object of discussion was sitting. "Well..."

Fionn followed his gaze and groaned. "Don't tell me..."

Harry laughed. "Nah, I think he and Jack are deep in discussion. But," he cocked his bottle at Fionn, "you are going to have to be slightly more subtle if you don't want anyone else to notice."

Fionn let out a heavy sigh. "Knew I shouldn't have had so much tonight." He gestured at the half empty glass in front of him.

Harry scoffed. "You are a total lightweight aren't you? But yes, if beer equals unrequited pinning and staring, then yes my friend, you would be best to lay off the hard stuff." He waved his bottle again. "Until you've built up a tolerance that is."

Fionn let another heavy sigh, sinking further down into the booth. Harry took another drink, gaze taking in the lad next to him with a contemplative look.

"So are you staring because...?" he started.

Fionn sank down further if that were physically possible.

 

"Look, Fionn, it's fine. Nothing to be ashamed about. Everyone gets crushes on co-stars." Harry paused. "Or so I believe." It was his first acting job so he was going on what he'd heard rather than experienced here but on what he'd observed so far, it wasn't something that struck him as being untrue. There were plenty of very good looking people involved and some of the filming structures meant close quarters with certain roles. No, it was definitely something he could believe now he'd been on set for a bit. "Some good looking people involved here," he said out loud, "some talented people." His eyes flicked over to where Tom Hardy was sat in the corner chatting to one of the set directors.

"I don't... I'm not..." Fionn started, stopped, tried again and then sighed again. Harry could read the frustration in the other boy's face.

"You're not gay? You are gay?" he guessed. "Bi? Not out?"

He watched the pained expression cross over the agile features and frowned.

"It's not that easy," Fionn replied.

"Yes it is," Harry countered.

Fionn shot a glare at him which, yes, thank you, proved the acting chops of the young man sat next to him because wow, he'd like to see *that* look projected on the big screen. Ignoring the force of the look he'd been sent, Harry cast another speculative gaze.

"Okay, whether you want a label or not, that's fine. Whether you want people to know is also fine. But sexuality should be easy. Whatever it is."

"So what about you?" Fionn asked sharply.

Harry shrugged. "I'd say pan if I had to put a label on it but I'm an 'it is what it is' kinda bloke," he grinned taking another drink. He watched Fionn again. "So what is it?" he asked. "Privacy? Embarrassment? First time nerves?"

Fionn shot another deadly glare to which Harry put both hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay, but if you want to talk, you know I'm here. I'm not gonna judge, you know that."

Silence fell over the booth, well silence underneath the still rhythmic thump of the slightly more dance club music that had come on.

Fionn tipped his head back, eyes closing.

Harry watched and waited.

"I don't know what it is," Fionn eventually said, eye rolling as he shook his head slightly. "He's...."

Harry watched as he shot an embarrassed look over towards him.

"...nice," he eventually finished, teeth worrying his bottom lip.

Harry laughed gently. "Yeah," he said nodding in agreement. "That he is."

And he was. In the few scenes that they'd filmed together and the time they'd spent on set so far, Harry had found the Welshman to be a stand-up good bloke. A team player, hard working. Knew when to have a laugh and when to get down to the nitty gritty. Could drink pretty much anyone under the table, Tom Hardy included, despite his relatively slim frame (and *that* had been a good night, Harry mentally smirked in memory).

And as Fionn said he was just a nice guy. In the way that nice actually meant 'nice' not 'nice'.

He'd given the Welshman a couple of glances himself if he were being honest; the dark curls, big eyes and frankly adorable accent were a heady combination, but he'd got the feeling Fionn had been building up to something and the looks tonight had just cemented it. Plus he had other suspicions.

"I feel like a stupid kid with his first crush," Fionn said quietly.

"Fionn mate, you're anything but a kid," Harry said, shooting him a look.

"Yeah, but I am though. I'm the youngest here," Fionn pointed out with a sigh. "Plus he's straight."

Harry narrowed his eyes slightly, casting Fionn a sideways look. When Fionn realised Harry had gone silent he turned and looked, his own gaze narrowing at the look in the other boy's face.

"What?"

Harry stayed quiet for a moment, gaze flicking between Fionn, Aneurin and a random point on the dance floor. "Are you sure?" he asked after a long moment.

Fionn's gaze narrowed further. His mouth opened to speak before he paused, head tilting to the side. "What...?"

Harry shrugged, mouth pursing in a similar motion. "Just, I wouldn't presume anything.."

"Harry...."

This time it was Harry's turn to bit his lip as he considered the situation. He didn't want to give Fionn false hope but as an observer of human nature he was very good at reading people. The short sharp rise to boy band fame had seen to that. It was a necessity. And he didn't want to let the boy bash himself over something that might actually not be in his imagination.

Because he had the distinct impression that the Welshman had been casting back looks of his own.

 

Aneurin and Jack were propped at the bar. And propped was the right description Jack thought as he felt his elbow slide under his weight. Righting himself quickly before he face planted onto the slightly sticky bar top, he sniggered sharply and pushed his glass further out of reach.

"Jack, mate, you are pissed."

He grinned at the delighted sounding Welsh voice that chuckled next to him.

"I am not," he protested. Completely spoiling the effect by widening his eyes to try and focus slightly better.

The chuckle deepened into a proper laugh. "That's it I'm cutting you off you lush."

"Ah ah," he replied, reaching out to halt the hand removing his drink. "No one gets in between a Scotsman and his whisky.

"Yes, well, this whisky is going to be the reason you fall off your stool in a minute, so I'm doing you a favour, really."

Jack watched as Aneurin picked up the remnants of his whisky chaser and downed it in one go.

"How the fuck are you still standing?" was out of his mouth before he could filter it. They'd been drinking glass for glass the whole night and whilst he was starting to get the impression the room was not as stable as it had been a few hours before when they'd first sat down, he had the impression that Aneurin was as sober as he had been those same hours earlier.

Ni grinned and held the glass in a salute before returning it to the bar and pushing it towards the bartender with a nod.

"You're inhuman, you Welsh git," he said, without venom and with a little awe, watching as the other man shot him a wide smile.

"Superior Welsh genes, my friend," Aneurin propped the side of his head on his hand. "You want me to get you back to the hotel?"

"No, no, no," Jack said instantly. He pushed himself up in his seat, extra careful not to over push and tipple over in the opposite direction. "You..." he pointed a finger at the other man. Both of them. "You need to stay here." He stared at him with as much concentration and accuracy as he could manage given his alcohol intake. "You need to stay and talk."

"Uh huh...?" Aneurin replied, clearly unsure where Jack was going with this but humouring him.

"Yes," Jack pointed again - or was that continued to point he thought with a frown - this time with an extra waggle in the gesture. "Yes, you need to talk."

"Okay."

"To Fionn."

He watched as Aneurin's eyes closed. "Jack..."

"You know I'm right."

Aneurin let out a long a noisy sigh.

"You've been moping worse than....than....well I can't think what right now but insert something that mopes a lot and then sliiiide yourself down along the scale in *that* direction and there you are. The mopey'eest of the mopest."

"That's not even a word."

"Tis too."

Aneurin's next words were cut off by the arrival of Tom Hardy, gliding up behind Jack with a wide smile.

"Don't tell me you tried to keep up with the Bwca tonight?" he asked with a wry grin, placing a hand on either shoulder. He raised his eyebrows at Aneurin who beamed back innocently.

Jack turned the finger he'd been pointing at Aneurin skywards, glancing back at Tom. "I did not intentionally set out to keep up, but it seemed rude not to join him." He took a breath and turned a slight shade of green. "However, I see that this may not have been the best idea." He swayed slightly to the one side only to be righted again by Tom's guiding hands.

"I'm heading back to the hotel," Tom said, "I was going to ask if anyone wanted to share a ride back but I think I'd better rescue this one."

"Hey," Jack said with a hint of indignation, "I may be drunk but I do NOT need rescuing. I could stay," he said straightening his spine and pushing back against Tom's wall of warmth. "I'm fine."

Tom and Aneurin just shared an amused look which they then turned on Jack.

His face fell and he sighed, accidentally tilting to the one side and letting Tom silently draw him back straight again.

"Okay, but you need to promise me you'll talk to Fionn," he said solemnly back at Aneurin who averted his gaze. "Promise?"

Aneurin turned to look at Jack and then behind at Tom who was sagely nodding his head. He frowned and then shot a clearly betrayed look back to Jack.

Jack blinked and then twisted to look at Tom behind him. "You know too?"

Tom snorted softly. "If it's what I think you're talking about then yes. But not for the reasons you're thinking," he said, the last sentence aimed clearly at Aneurin.

Aneurin's frown deepened.

Tom nodded again. "Talk to him," he said quietly, looking at Aneurin. He patted Jack's shoulders. "Come on you Scottish lightweight," he said gently lifting the other man to his feet.

"Less on that," Jack scowled. "I seem to remember a certain muscle-bound person not so far away who was puking his guts up a week ago for trying the same." The finger came up again. "At least I knew when to stop."

Aneurin bit his lip to stop the laugh from bursting forth at the expression on Tom's face. He buried his mouth in his hand as he gazed up at the two men, merriment dancing in his eyes.

"Laugh it up Welsh boy," Tom grinned. "We'll find your Achilles' heel, don't you worry."

The two men started walking towards the door, Tom waving his other hand as they went.

Once gone, Aneurin slid his hand from his mouth to the side of his head, gaze flicking without conscious thought to the far side of the pub. Realising what he was doing he scowled at himself and returned his focus to the bar and raised his hand to the bartender.

 

 

Half an hour later and Fionn and Harry had made it out onto the dance floor. It had taken a fair bit of cajoling and bribery and a little more drink but Harry had eventually persuaded the younger boy to join him and they were now in the midst of a small group that had been brave enough to venture out and shake it out to some early noughties club classics.

If Fionn was honest he would admit that he was enjoying himself. The darkness was enough to rid himself of most of his self consciousness and Harry was flinging himself about with enough abandon that any lack of coordination of his own long limbs couldn't look any worse. He grinned as he closed his eyes and lost himself to the rhythmic beat that was strumming through his body. It felt good to let go.

Ni was still in the club somewhere he thought, but he'd disappeared from his perch at the bar a while ago. Not knowing where he was both freeing and unnerving but Fionn had decided to ignore his uncertainty and go with it.

Telling Harry, or at least having Harry guess, was a relief. Harry hadn't acted shocked or disgusted. Or even acted like it was anything that major actually. Which was nice. Fionn had probably built it up too much in his mind but he was so conscious of the fact that was a newcomer in this film. In the film world. And he was scared shitless of making a complete mess. He knew logically he wouldn't. He had enough faith in his abilities, had confidence in his acting but as someone who was barely out of the their teens to be in a Christopher Nolan film, it still took a bit of getting used to. He knew there were other fairly new comers; Barry, Jack, Tom and even Ni were still relatively unknown, but somehow he was feeling it keenly right now.

So the embarrassment of falling for a co-star was the icing on the cake of a self esteem nightmare.

From the moment they'd been introduced back at the start of the production, Fionn had felt the flush of attraction creep up the back of his neck. God, from the minute he'd laid eyes on him he'd felt his mouth go dry. Then they'd been introduced and that voice had just about set his fingertips on fire.

That was of course, before he actually got to know him and the real problem had started.

When he'd told Harry it was because Ni was nice, he hadn't been lying. Aneurin or Ni as everyone now called him, was so absolutely brilliantly nice it was disgusting. He was kind, gentle, funny, self deprecating, hard working, fair, friendly, thoughtful. God the list just went on. But it wasn't in a sickly way either. He wasn't perfect by any means, Fionn wasn't that far gone, but any small faults that he could find were out shadowed by the overall package.

Which was goddamn nice.

He had just about come to terms with the unrequited aspect of the situation. He'd had no illusions about his feelings for Ni being reciprocated, it wasn't something that had even occurred to him beyond a few fevered late night fantasies, so when Harry had insinuated earlier that Ni might not be as straight as Fionn had presumed it had startled him. Started his thoughts churning down roads he'd up to now managed to avoid.

He groaned, letting the swell of the beat soak away the sound and drag him into it's depths.

 

Aneurin was doomed.

He'd sunk into another drink after Jack had left. Not that he really needed anymore alcohol, he was pleasantly buzzed from he and Jack's impromptu drinking session and he knew if he kept going much longer his own reputation would be in tatters, but somehow the need to sink slightly more into oblivion was there.

If he actually did what Jack - and Tom (God, how the fuck did Tom know too?) had indicated he should, then he needed some more dutch courage. Of course taking advice from an inebriated Jack was probably not one of his best ideas but Tom has been relatively sober tonight. And Jack had been sober when he'd tried to talk to Ni previously. Not that he'd taken much notice of him.

He hadn't realised he'd been that obvious. He'd been frantically thinking back to try and figure out where he'd slipped up. And he must have if Tom fucking Hardy knew. Aneurin knew it hadn't been Jack who'd said anything, because he'd looked genuinely surprised tonight. So how the hell Tom had figured it out?

Because if Tom had figured it out then who else knew?

It wasn't as though he were ashamed. God no, he'd come to terms with his sexuality a long time ago. Growing up bi in mid Wales had been interesting but truth be told he'd been incredibly lucky and his experience of coming out - or not exactly ever being 'in' - was probably the most boring, unremarkable story ever to be told. The worst thing that had ever happened to him was some mild bullying in year eleven when he'd been in the school production but even that had been played out with little to no bloodshed. When he'd decided to tell his family his Mum had hugged him. His Dad had just silently passed him a copy of the Gay Times (later to become a year long subscription) and his sister a pin for his bag, a rainbow cake adorned with the tag 'I like all the flavours.'

So being attracted to another man wasn't an issue. Neither was being in a relationship. In the sense that he wasn't. He'd been single for nearly three years and to be honest, hadn't really been bothered by the fact. Being mildly introverted, self sufficient and with a decent group of friends around him he'd not missed the drama that being in a relationship brought. Not that that had ever really been an issue either. The two serious relationships he'd had, one at University and the other a year or so after, had both ended amicably.

God he was boring. He groaned, laying his head on the bar top and wincing when he felt his hair stick.

That was probably the issue. One of them anyway.

The fact that he hadn't ever had any real issues. Any real drama. Any real stories or relationship wars or experience. Being at terms with his sexuality hadn't actually brought about any relationships with men and to date all his LGBT experience consisted purely of lusting after unattainable men.

He was probably the most boring person in the world. There would be nothing Fionn would see in him with his London background and upbringing. Even at his age, he was betting he'd had more life skills than Aneurin had.

Which brought him onto the last but not insignificant issue. Fionn's age. Aneurin was just under ten years older than Fionn which although not the largest age gap in the world, it still made him feel weird.

And old.

He groaned again.

And this was even assuming the other boy was interested in men.

He held up a finger for the bartender who just grinned and poured another drink.

 

Eleven o'clock was obviously the magic time either in that pub or in all establishments in Belguim because the lights dimmed dramatically and the volume of the dance music increased exponentially. There was a flood of people onto the dance floor and Fionn, taken aback by the sudden gust of extra bodies around him wondered where the hell they'd come from since he hadn't thought there were that many people in the place to start with.

He and Harry got separated and grinning at the wild abandon demonstrated by those around him, he turned and attempted to fight his way back to the edges and to the booth where they'd been sat earlier.

He'd managed to get almost to the edge when he felt his arm caught. Jerking away reflexively from the unexpected touch, it was only when he turned around and peered through the darkness he realised who it was who had halted his escape.

Ni.

Gazing into green eyes turned black in the haze of the club, Fionn was momentarily shocked out of all motion. He knew he was staring, his mouth slightly open in his surprise. Not his most attractive look some part of his brain managed to note, but frankly he was amazed he hadn't just slithered to the floor by the lack of support his knees had suddenly decided to give him, so a slightly gormless look was the better of two evils. Probably.

Ni had moved his hand from his elbow to his forearm and was pulling him slightly to the one side. Not off the dance floor just away from the crush of bodies. He was close. Close enough for Fionn to feel the heat of his bare arm against his, smell the fresh scent of the laundry detergent he used and the faint hint of his aftershave (sandelwood Fionn's brain happily supplied - he'd discovered his kink for that scent after about three hours after meeting Aneurin) and alcohol.

Ni had yet to speak. He hadn't taken his eyes from Fionn yet, the intensity of his gaze was unnerving Fionn. And starting to do things to him.

To try ward off any embarrassing results of that gaze he leaned in closer and tried to speak over the music.

"You okay?"

It was only after he'd moved forward that he realised the stupidity of that idea, the motion bringing him even closer to the other boy. Feeling the rush of blood to his cheeks he was absurdly grateful for the darkness of the club. He soaked up the warmth from the face tantalisingly close to his before pulling back quickly.

The grip on his forearm tightened as dark curls shook in a negative direction.

Fionn felt his eyebrows furrow then, concerned. He was about to ask what was wrong, all thoughts of his own embarrassment beginning to fly out of the window in worry about his friend, when Ni shuffled closer and he felt himself taken in a loose embrace.

"Dance with me?" came the breathy request down his ear.

Shuddering, Fionn found himself nodding without realising he had answered the soft question and felt Ni's hands slip down from his arms to his waist. It seemed only natural when his own hands mirrored the action and after only a moment, they'd found a beat, bodies moving together in a perfect duplication of each other.

Fionn's mind was spinning. He wasn't sure what was happening. It was like something right out of his fantasies. He wanted to pinch himself except he couldn't extract his hands without it seeming as though he was pulling away and he really, really didn't want to give that impression.

Ni's body was swaying with as much rhythm as he would have expected given the musical background of the Welshman and Fionn just closed his eyes, letting himself be led to the still upbeat pace of the music currently strumming the air.

When he felt Ni's hands move again, fingers flexing in his t-shirt, twitching him closer still, he moved with them, finding them now pressed front to front. His hand wound up around the other man's shoulders and it seemed only natural to lay his head down, face turning inwards towards the warmth of skin.

At the feel of his breath, he felt Ni sigh, fingers reflexively twitching tighter still.

 

Oh god Ni thought, head spinning, breath taken. He was in his arms. He'd done it. Fionn was here. Leaning against him. Holding onto him.

He wanted to gasp, cry, shout, throw his fist into the air.

He could feel every long hard line of him against the front of his body, the heat of the other boy soaking into him. It made him weak and strong at the same time and he kept taking deep breaths, inhaling the scent, feeling the strength of that lithe body moving with and against him.

It had taken every ounce of courage he had and three more drinks before he'd summoned the nerve to get up and come out onto the dance floor. He still wasn't entirely sure he wasn't dreaming, expecting any moment to wake up face down on the bathroom floor in his hotel room from where he'd passed out. He'd only ever blacked out once before from drinking and that had been whilst at drama school. There were still moments of that night he couldn't quite recall but he remembered it had been the vodka that had been the culprit. He'd never touched the stuff since.

But, no, a dream wouldn't have such exquisite texture, such attention to detail that he was experiencing now.

When he felt Fionn drop his face into the side of his neck, he couldn't help himself. The breathy sigh or the returning nuzzle into brown hair, nose burying into the other boy's nape. When he felt Fionn's lips brush against his collarbone, electricity flooding his nervous system, all bets were off.

Grip tightening, he slid one hand up to cradle the back of Fionn's head, sliding his own mouth around to smoothly and gracefully take the other boys mouth with his.

 

Fionn moaned.

He couldn't help himself.

The reaction was instantaneous.

Lips joining, mouths opening, the kiss went immediately from zero to hundred. In fact, Fionn was pretty sure they bypassed zero completely. Wasn't sure they even touched on fifty. His mouth opened and Ni was there, lips and tongue, invading, stroking, caressing. His own hand came up to clutch at a strong shoulder as he pushed back and the kiss went deep and filthy in a matter of moments.

 

 

"You didn't get pictures?"

Jack's voice was a comical combination of pain and indignation. The wince he wore on his face as a result of the pitch of his own voice made Tom Glynn-Carney's face crack into a wide grin.

"We've been waiting literally weeks for that and you didn't get any evidence?" Jack was aware of the whine that his voice had suddenly developed but despite the embarrassing tone he couldn't seem to quite rein it in yet. His head was still pounding from the hangover he was now suffering through; the room almost unbearably bright despite the fact that the curtains were still mostly closed and every sound seemed like small tiny hammers nicking away at his skull.

And yet the pain of missing the moment he'd been waiting for, encouraging and pushing for was somehow overriding any discomfort he was feeling from overindulgence the night before.

He couldn't believe he'd missed it. Missed it! All because he couldn't hold his drink long enough to push Ni in the direction he'd been gearing up for from the minute they'd all been introduced to the rest of the cast. Damnit.

He knew he hadn't been the only one to notice the immediate connection Ni and Fionn had. As soon as the pair had clapped eyes on each other it had been like a crack of lightening had flicked across the room. He'd actually reflexively glanced out the window to check that the weather hadn't suddenly turned, the sensation had been that real.

Glancing around he'd had a feeling that it hadn't gone unnoticed. In fact, over the other side of the room, he'd spotted Nolan's contemplative gaze observing quietly.

Watching the two of them as filming began was an exercise in both patience and frustration. Neither of them seemed to be aware of the other's regard, seemingly oblivious to the glances, abandoned touches and furtive looks that passed between them.

After a while, he realised that it had become one of the open secrets on set. Something that everyone knew about but never actually spoke about. Everyone knew except the two people it involved.

"I got a hard on is what I got," Tom smirked, shoulders shaking with the strength of his laughter. "It was hot."

"Fucking hell!" Jack swore, head flopping back onto the back of the couch, reflexively wincing again at the resulting pain and then ignoring as his face contorted into one of utter dismay.

"They were practically climbing inside each other. Thought we might have to get the hose out before people started to object to the free porn show."

Jack cackled, coughing painfully when his throat caught. "Oh God!" he wheezed between breaths. "Why did I miss that?"

"Because you made the mistake of being drinking buddies with the Welsh equivalent of the man with hollow legs," Tom replied, smirking at Jack's groan. "I'll have to check. There were a few other people there, they might have had the forethought to get their phones out."

Jack's head whipped up - slowly. "Try Harry," he said. "I'm betting his wasn't far from hand. He was sitting with Fionn earlier in the night. Annnd, he was the organiser of last night's little outing. I'm sensing an ulterior motive."

Tom nodded thoughtfully. "Good point." He dug in his pocket for his own phone, tapping on the screen quickly. A couple of minutes later and he was swearing under his breath, eyes wide.

Jack twisted his head carefully. "What?"

"Check your inbox."

Blinking slowly, Jack fumbled for where his phone was lay on the side table next to the couch. Flinching at the light that suddenly assaulted his eyes as he woke the device up, he blinked again at the video file waiting in his inbox.

"Fuck-ing hell," he breathed out slowly, as he took in the grainy image playing in front of his eyes.

 

The first thing Aneurin was aware of as he came to consciousness was an absolute, all encompassing sense of rightness. A content, comfortable sensation that spread through all his limbs from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, which were right that very moment feeling toasty warm.

Twisting his head slightly he felt soft hair brush his nose and mouth and he inhaled happily.

"Morning," the gentle voice greeted him.

He grinned, feeling the expression stretch his whole mouth. He bit his bottom lip. "Morning," he replied, eyes closing.

Aneurin felt Fionn stretch languidly, the whole length of his body pushing back against his before the other boy twisted around. Nose to nose they grinned at each other with matching stupid expressions.

"Hi," Fionn said.

"Hi," Aneurin whispered, reaching up a hand to gently stroke strands of hair from Fionn's forehead.

"I don't want to get up," Fionn confessed, pressing into the tender touch.

"Me either," said Aneurin. "What time is it?"

"No idea," said Fionn. One hand reached back, floundering blindly. He made a small noise of success when his fingers landed on his phone. Bringing it back round in front of him he waved the screen at Aneurin before turning it back and snuggling back into his arms, looking at the display.

Aneurin tilted his head to look, pulling Fionn closer in the process. He made a sound of enquiry when he saw Fionn's expression change.

Fionn glanced up at him and the startled look on his face made Aneurin frown. "What's wrong?" he asked bringing up a hand to stroke over his arm.

Fionn took a deep breath and pulled a face. "Um, you might want to check your phone," he said, looking up at Ni out the side of his eyes.

Aneurin tilted his head to peer at the screen again before twisting to check the bedside table. He groaned as he realised his phone was still in his jeans which were unhelpfully on the other side of the room.

Fionn watched, momentarily distracted by the bare backside as it made it's way down the bed, Aneurin disappearing head first over the foot to rustle in his pants pocket. When he turned and made his way back, phone clutched in one hand, Fionn glanced away, attention back on his own device.

"Enjoy the view?" Aneurin grinned.

"Very much," Fionn replied with a smirk, ignoring the red heat up spreading up his cheeks. It had indeed been a very nice view. "I think we may have been rumbled," he said holding up his phone.

Aneurin peered at the slew of text messages and IMs to Fionn's phone and pulled his own face. He twisted and looked at his own and, sliding back down under the duvet, replied in a genial tone, "I think you may be right."

His messages list was lit up brighter than a Christmas tree with incoming messages from what seemed to be everyone on his contact list. After flicking through a few he chuckled and tossed the phone back on the side and slid his arms back around Fionn's body, nuzzling his face back into his shoulder.

"We weren't very subtle I guess," Fionn said wryly, sighing as he relaxed into Ni's embrace.

"I think subtle left the party after the first kiss," Ni agreed. "I'm fairly sure sanity left my head after the first kiss."

Fionn sniggered, the sound turning into a small gasp when he felt lips pressing kisses into the curve of his shoulder.

"Do you mind?" Fionn asked, a hint of worry colouring his tone.

"No," Ni replied with no hesitation. And honestly he didn't. Now he had Fionn in his arms. Now he'd tasted him, felt him, worshipped him, he couldn't care less what anyone else thought or said. "You?"

Fionn shook his head, fingers entwining with Ni's where they were folded over his stomach.

"I was before. Worried that is. But that was when I didn't think you...liked me." He paused over the last words, feeling suddenly embarrassed by his words. Feeling childish. "You know... I thought...well, I thought. I don't know what I thought." He let out frustrated sigh. "I'm not explaining this well."

"Yes, you are." Aneurin said, playing with Fionn's fingers. "I was the same. I didn't know if you felt the same way. I assumed you wouldn't be interested in someone like me."

Fionn made a confused noise and Aneurin sighed. "Older, boring. Male." He said the last and closed his eyes, burrowing into Fionn's nape.

Fionn turned then, so suddenly it made Aneurin jump. Sliding around again he pushed the other boy onto his back, moving until he was lying over him. "Well, I got the male bit wrong," Aneurin said with a grin.

Fionn pulled a face." Uh huh," he nodded. "You got all of it wrong." He titled his head to the side. "Old? Boring? Really?"

Aneurin shrugged with a small sideways grin. "I'm nearly ten years older than you."

Fionn just looked at him. "So?" He settled his hips on Aneurin's pelvis and felt the other boy hitch his breath. "And seriously, boring? I thought I was the one with the self esteem issues."

Aneurin let out a bark of laughter that ended in a sucked in gasp as Fionn started to rock slightly. "Oh God," he whispered.

"One you are not old. You're barely thirty. Ten years is nothing, certainly not when you look like you do. Second, you're not boring. Again, not when you look like that and that's only looking skin deep. I'm looking further than that," Fionn continued, his expression serious. He shook his head as if unable to find the adequate words to express his confusion over Ni's confession. "I am so glad I got to know you these past few weeks. So pleased that our paths have crossed. You have the most wonderful stories and jokes. Your outlook on life is amazing. You're kind and sweet and gentle and generous and I was worried you'd look at me, a teenager with no experience of anything and see someone who is barely hanging on."

They gazed into each other eyes, each reading the truth shining out vividly from the other.

"I think I might be in trouble," Ni whispered after a long moment, staring up at Fionn, adoration clear on his face.

Fionn grinned. "Me too," he breathed before leaning down and taking Ni's mouth in a slow exploring kiss.

 

 

Tom nudged Jack who in turned nudged Tom Hardy who just sat and smirked, supping his coffee slowly. Harry was over by the door with the biggest grin on his face. He'd nodded to indicate that they were on their way and then scurried over to the table.

Four pairs of eyes turned to greet Fionn and Ni as they walked into the hotel dining room for breakfast. They both paused, strides hesitating for half a second and cast a glance at each other, before continuing on into the room. Between them their hands were clasped tightly.

Tom Hardy was the first one to notice and the grin that split his face caused Ni to chuckle.

Harry couldn't help it, he burst out into an impromptu round of applause. Jack looked slightly scandalised by that whilst Tom Glynn-Carney just sat with a happy look on his face.

Fionn rolled his eyes, doing a quick bow before they sat in the corner booth. Ni slid in next to him, shuffling up next to him when Fionn grabbed his hand again and pulled him in closer.

"Good night then?" Tom Hardy asked in an even tone.

The raucous laughter that burst out was deafening.