Title: Closed Change – Part 3/3
Author: kat_lair & pushkin666
Fandom: RPS, Strictly Come Dancing (UK)
Pairing/Category: Bruno Tonioli/Craig Revel Horwood, porn and happy endings
Word count: 4,012
Disclaimer: This is not a real story about real people. This is a fictional story about fictional representations of real people. Note the difference. None of the events described herein are true. No disrespect is meant and no profit made.
Summary: Bruno takes a deep breath and straightens up. He’s not sure whether he's making a huge mistake, but if he is then at least he won't have to live with the consequences of it for long. Slowly, Bruno walks over to Craig and, for the second time in his life, drops to his knees in front of him.
Author notes: Finally, the last part is here. You’ve all been pining waiting for it, admit it. This has been a labour of love and we would like to express our gratitude to moth2fic for her excellent beta work on this last instalment. But fear not: there are plenty more Bruno/Craig bunnies running around in our heads so there may very well be more fic for these two... *g*
Closed Change – Part 1/3
Closed Change – Part 2/3
Things don’t improve over the next few weeks and by the time they make it to Blackpool Bruno is about ready to snap. The tension between himself and Craig has become more and more unbearable and he’s finally at the point where he’s seriously considering Len’s advice.
Bruno knows that they need to clear the air. He actually really likes the Blackpool show and doesn’t want it sullied by their bickering. The rehearsal earlier was uncomfortable and he’s had more than enough of sitting in darkened rooms, angsting over something he figures he isn’t going to get. He’s not fourteen anymore and he’d be happy to have the friendship back between himself and Craig if nothing else.
After rehearsals he goes back to his hotel room and freshens up before giving himself a talking to in front of the mirror. It’s sad, he knows it is but he doesn’t care. He’s going to confront Craig tonight and make him talk about the situation they’ve found themselves in. The one they’ve put themselves in.
Craig’s room is next door and Bruno knows he’s there. He can hear the shower going on and Craig moving around. If he’s going to do this it needs to be now rather than later, before Craig goes out for something to eat or heads down to the bar for a drink, as he tends to do when they’re in town.
Bruno slips his room key into his back pocket and takes the very short walk from his room to Craig’s. He raises his hand and knocks on the door before he can lose his nerve.
Craig opens it almost immediately. He’s barefoot and dressed in jeans and a white t-shirt that looks worn and soft. For a moment neither of them says anything. Craig runs a hand through his messy hair and Bruno can't stop staring at his biceps. They’re normally covered with shirt sleeves and jackets so to see them like this feels almost obscene. The urge to just reach out and touch is strong and for a moment he imagines what it would be like to clutch them while Craig fucks him into a mattress, to have that bulk above him, leaning over him like before, but this time with time to savour it. Craig is big enough to just arrange Bruno any way he wants him, to simply pick him up and toss him onto a bed, and damn if that thought doesn’t make his breath stutter and palms sweat.
Bruno really hopes they might still get to that at some point in the future, that Craig might want something more than a one off. But none of that is going to happen unless they talk and that sure as hell isn’t going to happen in a hotel hallway.
“Can I come in,” Bruno says, and it’s not really a question as he doesn’t give Craig a chance to say no, just pushes past him into the room.
For a brief moment Craig considers physically removing him, but the thought of some passing cleaner catching them grappling in the hallway like a pair of schoolboys doesn’t particularly appeal. Craig sighs, quietly closing the door behind him and turning around to face the music, whatever that might be.
He’s is surprised to say the least. Bruno has been avoiding him for almost two months and now he's here, mere weeks from the show being over the year. Craig doesn’t get it. He's been expecting Bruno to resume his former habits – flirting interspersed with casual flings – and when that hasn’t happened, Craig has been feeling equal amounts puzzled and relieved.
Relieved because he's not sure how well he could've maintained his facade of indifference if he'd had to watch Bruno carry on with someone else. It hadn’t exactly been a pleasant experience before and Craig has always been careful to cultivate a deliberate ignorance of details about Bruno's affairs. He suspects it would have been ten times worse now, after he's had Bruno for himself.
Standing in the middle of the room, Bruno looks small and tired, huddled in a jumper that's at least a couple of sizes too big. Craig gives him a critical onceover, pretty sure that Bruno has actually lost some weight lately, when he doesn't really have any to spare.
He wants to ask Bruno if he's alright, if he's eaten. Instead, he says nothing, just waiting, and fighting not to cross his arms defensively. If the tense line of Bruno’s shoulders is anything to go by he is clearly here to speak his mind and the least Craig can do is hear him out.
Bruno looks around. The hotel room is a mirror of his, but then all hotel rooms are pretty much generic.
Bruno stares at Craig for a moment. It seems as though Craig isn't going to say anything so he presumes it's down to him. He’s been going over this again and again in his head, wondering quite what to say to Craig. He’d had it all planned out, the calm questions he was going to ask; why Craig was leaving, what he really thought of Bruno, what actually was happening on that day. But now that he’s actually here, looking at Craig, the words have gone out of his mind and he’s angry. Angry and bitter, and he just doesn’t care anymore.
He moves over to the door where Craig is standing, getting right up into his space, not caring right now how big Craig seems to be.
“So, tell me,” he says. “Just tell me, Craig. Why are you really leaving the show? Is it because you no longer want to work with a slut like me? Is that what this is all about? Is that actually what you've thought about me for all of these years?” He’s shouting now, the words tumbling out of his mouth without him thinking about what he's saying. He pushes at Craig's chest but he doesn’t budge so Bruno pushes again. “Tell me Craig, did I live up to your expectations. Did I?”
Craig is shocked by Bruno's reaction, his anger, his words. What he's saying... god, god, he never meant for this, for Bruno to think that. Bruno is coming towards him now and Craig thinks the pushing might actually escalate into punching soon and no matter how much good it might do for them to sort this out with fists, neither of them is much of a fighter. Besides, they have a live show tomorrow and turning up with matching black eyes would result in a media frenzy.
The next time Bruno pushes him, Craig catches Bruno's hands, holding them still against his chest, tugging the smaller man closer. Bruno opens up his mouth, presumably to shout at him some more, but Craig cuts him off with a quiet, “No.”
Bruno looks at him in confusion for a few seconds before he blanches, looking small and mortified. “Fine, let go, just...” He tries to pull his hands free, almost frantic now. “Let me go!”
“No, no, that's not what I meant,” Craig says. “Just … Jesus, will you listen and not take a swing at me if I let you go?”
Bruno is beginning to shake now. He wasn't expecting this, wasn’t expecting it to be like this. He’s surprised that Craig has even touched him, even if it's just to stop him from hitting him. Not that he would get into a fist fight with Craig. Jesus, he's not that stupid. Bruno realises just how close he is to Craig now, and he wants to just drop his head onto Craig's chest but he can't. He doesn’t have that right.
“Okay,” he says, looking up. “You can let me go.”
Craig doesn’t do it straight away, continuing to hold his hands for a few seconds before releasing him. Bruno steps back, rubbing his hands over his wrists. They’re not marked which he’s oddly disappointed about. Craig is stronger than he looks, but then of course he is a dancer, used to lifting people smaller than himself.
Bruno swallows at that thought and takes another step back looking for somewhere to sit. But there’s only one chair and that has Craig’s tux slung over it. Finally Bruno goes and sits on the bed. It’s better than standing. The mattress dips as he sits on the edge and stares at Craig, waiting for him to say something.
Craig runs a hand through his hair again, messing it further. His eyes track the way Bruno rubs his wrists, and he forces himself not to react when Bruno sits on the bed. It means nothing; simply the only logical place to sit. Craig takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. His choice of conversational method notwithstanding, Bruno has the right idea: they do need to clear the air here. He feels sick that somewhere along the line Bruno got the impression that Craig was disgusted, that his leaving had something to do with Bruno. Well it did, but not in the way that Bruno thinks.
Craig knows that what Arlene said is true, he can be as expressive as a rock when it comes to his feelings, how it can seem like he doesn’t have any. It’s hard though, breaking a habit of a lifetime. He doesn’t expect Bruno necessarily to like what he has to say, but it’s better than leaving him thinking that Craig was disgusted with him. Craig owes him that much, and if he makes a fool of himself in the process… well, he'll only have to put up with being a fool for a few more weeks.
Craig walks over to the mini-bar, more to have something to do with his hands than really wanting a drink. He opens a couple of the small bottles and pours them into two glasses, handing one of them to Bruno silently.
They drink. It’s not exactly comfortable, but it's not quite as bad as the unspoken tension that has been simmering between them for the last couple of months. Craig feels awkward standing around, but sitting next to Bruno on the bed is out of the question. Instead he scoops his tux off the chair, tossing it carelessly into the wardrobe. The hotel has a dry cleaning service; they'll get it sorted before tomorrow night.
He sits down, knowing that he has to break the silence soon, before Bruno gets tired of waiting and leaves – or decides to take a swing at him after all. Craig leans his elbows on his knees, eyes on his glass. “No, you didn't match my expectations,” he says finally.
There’s a hiss of breath and the sound of Bruno getting to his feet.
“Wait,” Craig says, holding up his hand, but not lifting his eyes. “Wait, that's not... you got it wrong,” he says. ”You didn't match my expectations, because you... it was... no, it felt like more to me. More than...” God he’s babbling now. Craig grits his teeth and forces the words out. “I didn't have any expectations. Or I did, but I was expecting it to be quick, efficient and meaningless. I was expecting it not to matter. To you.” He takes another drink, finishes what he started. “I was trying not to have it matter to me.”
Bruno stares at Craig for a moment. He's not quite sure he's hearing this right, but then he thinks back to what Len had said to him, how Craig doesn't do one-night stands. He places the drink on the bedside table and looks over at Craig who is still staring down into his glass as though he doesn’t dare look at Bruno.
Bruno takes a deep breath and straightens up. He’s not sure whether he's making a huge mistake, but if he is then at least he won't have to live with the consequences of it for long. Slowly, Bruno walks over to Craig and, for the second time in his life, drops to his knees in front of him.
“Look at me.” He touches Craig’s face, gently nudging his head up. “Please.”
After a brief hesitation Craig does. “Did it?” Bruno asks. “Did it matter to you?”
“Yes, yes it did,” Craig says. “I always knew that it would, but I did it anyway despite my better judgement.”
Bruno blinks in surprise. “What do you mean you always knew? How long have you been thinking about this?”
Craig looks as if he’d do almost anything not to have to answer the question, but Bruno waits him out. They’ve committed to this path now and it’s too late to step off. No matter how difficult the discussion, they both know it needs to happen.
“Years,” Craig finally admits. “Pretty much since I first met you, but I didn’t want to risk being just another one night stand. You may have noticed that I don’t handle that well, never have. I always get too... emotionally involved.”
Bruno sits back on his heels, stunned. This is more than he expected and in the back of his mind he wonders how many drinks Craig’s already had tonight for him to be this free with his words.
There’s a self-deprecating twist to Craig’s lips and he’s holding the eye contact even though it’s clearly costing him.
“What makes you think it would only be a one night stand?” Bruno asks. “Is that all you think I can commit to? Why do you get to choose for both of us? You’re not the only who’s been thinking about this. You don’t know what I want.”
“Then tell me. What do you want, Bruno?”
Tentatively Bruno reaches out and brushes his fingers over Craig’s cheek. “You. Us,” he says. “For more than just one night. But right now, what I want is what I’ve always wanted. For you to kiss me and not walk away.”
Craig blinks, mentally shifting gears. Of all the things he might have expected Bruno to say that wasn’t one of them. He exhales sharply and leans forward, brushes his hands into Bruno’s hair, cupping the back of his head and pulling him in for a kiss.
Bruno’s mouth opens under Craig’s and he moans into the kiss. He’s pliable under Craig’s hands, pressing as close as he can. Things get heated fast and Craig is biting at Bruno’s lips, touching everywhere he can reach, now that he has the freedom to do so. He pushes his hands under Bruno’s ridiculous jumper, encouraging him up and into his lap.
“You’ve lost weight,” he tells Bruno disapprovingly. He pulls the jumper off Bruno and tosses it to one side, running his fingers over Bruno’s ribs to demonstrate. Bruno twists away, clearly ticklish, but comes straight back for another kiss.
“Off,” Bruno tells him, pulling at his t-shirt. “I want this thing off. Now!” His accent is thicker now, his voice gruff and Craig wants to make him sound like that all the time.
Craig growls a little and bites on Bruno’s shoulder. He hooks his arms under Bruno’s knees, heaves himself up with a grunt, Bruno clinging to him in surprise. He takes two staggering steps to the bed and topples them onto it.
He pulls back onto his knees, yanking his t-shirt off, grinning back at Bruno. “Patience,” he tells him.
Bruno huffs in surprise, half laughter, the breath whooshed out of him. “I can’t believe you just did that. You just swept me off my feet, didn’t you? Consider me so impressed.” He smiles and Craig can’t help smiling back, all the worry of the last few months falling away. “Besides, I’ve been patient for several months now,” Bruno tells him, wriggling out of his jeans.
“Fuck,” Craig breathes out, hands going to his own jeans and thumbing the buttons open.
Craig leans in to kiss him again, running his hands down Bruno’s sides, over his hips and down his thighs. Bruno moans and shamelessly bucks up, his hard cock bumping against Craig’s stomach.
“Hold that thought,” Craig tells him. He gets off the bed, kicking his jeans away before rummaging through his luggage for lube and condoms, packed out of habit rather than any real planning or expectation. By the time he turns back to the bed Bruno is staring at him, his eyes dark and mouth half open, stroking his cock.
“Hurry up,” Bruno says.
Craig narrows his eyes at him and bats Bruno’s hands away from his cock as he climbs back on the bed. He grabs his wrist and presses it onto the bed. “Let me,” he tells him.
Bruno spreads his legs, canting his hips up and Craig settles between them. “Yes please,” Bruno gasps.
Craig coats his fingers, slowly brushing them against Bruno’s hole until Bruno starts pushing back against them, crying out in pleasure. Craig presses the heel of his hand against his own cock, stopping himself from coming at the sight of it. It’s everything he’s wanted and more, to have Bruno like this in his bed.
Bruno never really thought in his wildest dreams that this would actually happen. He'd pictured it in his mind but it was nothing like the real thing.
Craig twists his fingers and Bruno whines, pushing himself back on them. Craig keeps talking, whispered endearments and filthy promises falling from his mouth in a continuous litany. Bruno lets the words wash over him, enjoying the feel of Craig's hands on him.
“Fuck, you’re so hot,” Craig is saying. “Look at you writhing on my fingers. One day soon I'm going to make you come just like this, just from my fingers, pushing into you and opening you up until you're begging me to allow you to come. But not today. Today I'm going to fuck you so damned hard you'll still feel it tomorrow when we're judging and I'll be watching to see whether you can sit still or not." He leans down. "I want you to be thinking about that when you're watching the dancers tomorrow, want you to be remembering how I felt inside you and to anticipate the ache of it when I do it again tomorrow night, and every night after that. If you let me."
"Oh god," Bruno gasps, because fuck yes, he wants that. "Please."
Craig grins down at him and the open edge of possessiveness in his smile makes Bruno’s breath catch, makes him clench hard around Craig’s fingers.
Craig’s eyes darken in response, his cock dragging wetly against Bruno’s hip. He presses Bruno’s legs wider, almost to the point of pain. And then, just when things look like they’re going to get really good, he says something that causes Bruno to freeze.
“Such a slut, aren’t you?” Craig whispers, leaning close. “Such a greedy, eager slut.”
Bruno’s head jerks up, his hands gripping the bed sheets. He stares up at Craig in shock, not really believing what Craig has just said. The memory of their first time comes flooding back; the cold, detached way Craig had pushed him against the wall and brought him off, the shame of being left behind. It hurts, to have Craig call him that now, after Bruno had told him he wanted something more, something different. He starts to pull away but Craig doesn’t let him.
“Hey, no, I didn’t...” Craig lays a hand over Bruno’s heart like he wants to hold it safe. “I love it,” he confesses. “To see you like this, wanting me, pushing for more.” He strokes a hand down Bruno’s cheek. "My slut," he says, his voice low. "Mine, Bruno."
It’s a claim, and maybe Bruno should be protesting that it’s too early for that kind of talk, maybe he should be calling Craig an arrogant bastard – and both of those things are true – but Bruno has never been very good at doing what he should, so instead he pulls Craig down until they’re kissing once more, all teeth and urgency.
Kissing Bruno is amazing. Fuck, just being allowed to touch Bruno is amazing. Craig can’t believe how close he came to fucking it up just right now though. The hurt look on Bruno’s face isn’t something he particularly wants to see again anytime soon. But he hadn't meant it in a bad way. Bruno had looked so fucking hot moving against him, pushing onto his fingers.
Craig takes the opportunity to admire the view again. Bruno's head is thrown back, sweat beading on his throat and he is moaning softly as he continues to move on Craig's fingers.
He really isn’t prepared to wait any longer though and he doesn’t want Bruno to come before he’s inside him. Craig slowly pulls his fingers out, groping around on the bed until he finds the condom packet, pressing it into Bruno’s waiting hand.
Bruno doesn’t waste any time. He rips open the foil deftly and reaches between them. They both groan when he rolls the condom on, adding a wicked little twist with his hand that makes Craig swear and seize Bruno’s wrist, shoving it back to the mattress.
“Enough of that,” he says, and the way Bruno cants his hips up seems to indicate agreement.
Craig doesn’t ask if Bruno is ready, or if he’s sure – the answer to both is obvious. He just pushes in, hard and steady, not giving Bruno time to adjust, stretching him with his cock until he’s fully inside. Bruno groans and grabs at Craig’s biceps, nails digging into Craig’s skin. Craig likes that - the way Bruno is holding on to him, clinging almost.
He fucks him, deep and hard, revelling in the sounds it elicits. Bruno is noisy, which Craig fully expected. At some point he thinks it would be fun to gag Bruno, but not now. He wants to hear every moan, every broken gasp falling from his lips. Bruno’s head is thrown back and Craig leans down and trails his mouth down Bruno’s neck to his chest. He licks slowly around Bruno’s left nipple and then he bites gently, and then harder as Bruno groans loudly and lets go of Craig’s arms to clutch at the sheet beneath them.
“Harder,” Bruno pleads. "Harder, c’mon, I won’t break.”
Craig takes him at his word and bites down harder on his nipple knowing that he’s leaving a mark and glad of it. He can feel Bruno tightening around him, the way that Bruno is shivering underneath him and he knows that Bruno isn’t far off coming.
“God, you look hot,” he tells him. “I’ve wanted to do this for years, have you under me like this.” He wraps a hand around Bruno’s cock, stroking him firmly.
That’s all it takes. Bruno arches off the bed, coming wetly between them while Craig kisses him possessively. He swallows Bruno’s moans and bites at his lips as he fucks into him, groaning out Bruno’s name as he comes.
They stay like that for a while until Craig finally pulls out and slowly collapses to one side. Quickly he takes care of the condom, tying it up and tossing it toward the wastebasket. They really need a clean, maybe a shower, but for now he’s content to lie back down and gather Bruno close, guiding his head to rest on Craig’s chest.
“I didn’t take you for a cuddler,” Bruno says and then immediately wants to bite his own tongue. He tightens his grip around Craig in case he gets the wrong idea and thinks that Bruno in any way disapproves of post-coital cuddles.
Which he doesn’t. Quite the contrary. It’s just... unexpected. He’s pretty sure Craig won’t kick him out of bed afterwards, not now that they’ve talked and are finally on the same page about this, but...
“Yeah, well. Better get used to it,” Craig says, his voice gruff, accent slipping through and broadening his vowels.
Bruno smiles and presses closer, throwing one of his legs over Craig’s. “Oh believe me,” he says, idly carding his fingers through Craig’s chest hair. “I plan on it.”