Today was one of those clumsy days, this confirmed it. She had broken a heel earlier in the day (and had quickly found a replacement pair at a store in Seven Dials), had walked into multiple people, and the crack in her phone screen had become even worse. She sighed, regaining her composure and looking up at the man before her. He seemed familiar, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. “The fault was mutual. We both walked into each other, didn’t we?” 

“Right, of course,” Braden nodded, only taking his hand away from her arm when he was sure that she wouldn’t stumble after the fact. He smiled at her charmingly, reaching up to run his hand over his hair, as if to smooth it out, like it’d been messed up during the collision. “You’re alright, yeah? Nothing permanently damaged?”

Something about having Braden’s eyes on him made him feel a little vulnerable. As though there was something more sinister happening in the Englishman’s mind. “I’m surprised you even turned up….” Sam took a seat, shrugging off of a few of the layers he had been wearing. “Didn’t think I’d see you again.”

Braden scoffed, shaking his head slightly as he pouted teasingly. “And here I thought you had more faith in me than that.” Braden was exhausted, and he had considered skipping to sleep, but he enjoyed Sam’s company. “I happen to enjoy you presence.” 

Sam huffed out a cold breath of air, watching as the small cloud dissipated before him. “Someone asked if I was doubling down on my time at the gym lately. Was I really that weedy? I can’t help it, I can’t handle the brittle cold English Winter weather and I’m wearing like seven shirts underneath this sweater.”

Braden raised an eyebrow, his eyes taking in the young man’s chest, leveling his eyes to his abdomen, then up to his arms. Then he shrugged, and took a swig of the beer he had ordered. “I think you fill all of it out rather well,” he observed, licking his lips as he brought his glass back down. 

Keep reading

Braden had been blatantly ignoring him, a smirk on his face, knowing that the simple act of refusing to give him attention would only cause Sam to try harder. He hated when Braden ignored him; most of the time, he was like a small puppy, craving affection and attention all the same. Braden found it amusing as well as endearing; if anyone else acted the way Sam did, he might have been put off. But he wasn’t, shockingly.

His hands found Sam’s waist as the younger man straddled him, his smirk growing more amused as it met with Sam’s lips. He kissed him back slowly, lingering against his mouth before he pulled back to rest his head at the top of the couch. “Someone’s needy,” he teased, his fingers slipping under Sam’s shirt to press against bare skin. He was warm, and touching Sam only made him hotter.

It wasn’t uncommon for the actors to use their breaks to nap and relax between takes. Depending on what they had been filming previously, it could tire them out quicker, and if they had an early morning call time, sleep was imminent. That’s why no one really blinked an eye when they passed Emerson and Braden curled up on the set’s couch, sleeping soundly between scenes.

A commotion caused by falling props aroused Braden slightly, and he blinked his eyes open, slightly put off by the bright lights of set greeting him. He shifted only slightly before realizing his arm, asleep and tingling up to his fingertips, was caught underneath Emerson’s body. He didn’t want to wake her, so for a moment, he just laid there, his arms wrapped around her small frame, his face all but pressed into her hair. She smelled like roses; he wondered if that was the shampoo she used most commonly.

Keep reading

Braden chuckled as he put his phone down on the nightstand beside his bed, his hair mussed and in his face from the nap Sam and himself had just taken. He didn’t have any clothes on. In fact, the only thing covering his naked body was the sheet that he had kept on the bed before he had pulled Sam on the mattress with him. The comforter and throw pillows were askew and thrown all over his room. 

“I’m not much of an artist,” he admitted, turning over and pushing himself up onto his elbow. “I guess there is no harm in trying, though.” His hand reached out, brushing Sam’s hair out of his face with a tired yet amused smile on his own face. The other man was on his stomach, the sheet covering his lower half, his back, neck and head showing. He ran his fingers over Sam’s spine, Braden’s eyes roaming over the skin along his back. He was beautiful, truly, and he would take him in whenever he could. He was greedy. 

Keep reading

“I think we should. I think it’d be most prudent for you, your busted nose, and the patrons of this fine pub that are giving me the evil eye,” she returned. She drew back and tossed the soiled napkins into the garbage nearby. “I hope you don’t have some flesh-eating bacteria.” 

“Giving you the evil eye? Do I have to beat someone else up?” He teased, looking around as if to find the person who might be glaring at his costar, but only to return his gaze to her with a smirk. “You would have gotten it already, love.” Braden chuckled, reaching out and offering his hand to her, raising an eyebrow. “Let’s get out of here.” 

[text to Sam - 10:15 PM]: i don’t want to burst your bubble, but you seem to like everything i say