FIC: "Temporary Monogamy" (Part Twenty-One) (Orlando Bloom/Sean Bean, Karl Urban/Sean Bean)
Title: "Temporary Monogamy" (21/27)
Author: Brenda (azewewish)
Pairing: Orlando Bloom/Sean Bean (Karl Urban/Sean Bean)
Click here for full disclaimers & notes.
Prologue | Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine | Part Ten | Part Eleven | Part Twelve | Part Thirteen | Part Fourteen | Part Fifteen | Part Sixteen | Part Seventeen | Part Eighteen | Part Nineteen | Part Twenty | Part Twenty-One | Part Twenty-Two | Part Twenty-Three | Part Twenty-Four | Part Twenty-Five | Part Twenty-Six | Part Twenty-Seven (and Epilogue) |
Orlando spent the rest of the night tossing and turning, reliving the kiss in gloriously vivid Technicolor every time he attempted to close his eyes. He couldn't believe he'd done it. He had no idea what the hell had possessed him. What in fuckall was happening to him? He didn't think about Sean that way. He just didn't.
Oh, sure and all, he always joked about Sean being one of the two sexiest men he'd ever met (the other, naturally, being Karl, so it fit that they were together), but it wasn't like he went about molesting his friends just for being sexy. Hell, he'd kissed Karl and Harry and enjoyed it, thank you very fucking much, and neither kiss had felt this awkward after.
Then again, he hadn't popped a boner the size of Auckland when he'd kissed either of them, either.
It had to be the alcohol. There was no other explanation for it. Although he was getting better, clearly he still had a problem holding his liquor. And everyone knew drinking made you a randy goat - hell, that was why a lot of people drank. Add to it that he'd spent a month missing Sean's company, and the fact that Sean did rather favor Jerry physically, and it was no wonder that certain things had happened. Didn't make it right, of course, but it was certainly understandable. Sort of. If he didn't think about it too much, which was sort of impossible, as he could think of nothing else.
Especially since none of that mental meandering explained Sean's reaction to the kiss. Because Sean? Had most definitely kissed him back. Jesus fucking Christ on a cracker, Sean had kissed him back. And Orlando most assuredly didn't favor Karl physically in the slightest, aside from the whole dark-haired, dark-eyed thing, so couldn't blame that on the whole physical proximity thing.
Hell, maybe Sean had just been drunk and horny. God knew, going a month without after getting it almost nightly for close to a year had to mean something, right?
Fuck it, he was driving himself mental thinking about it. They'd kissed (twice, he reminded himself), it was over, done, nothing more to discuss. Thankfully, nothing further had happened. They could, one year or decade, have a laugh about it and move on.
But sleep still was a long time in coming. Every time the floorboards creaked, he was terrified it was Sean coming into his room to talk about what had happened. And he just...he couldn't. Call it avoidance, cowardice, he didn't care. He wasn't ready to look Sean in the eyes and try to pretend that everything was aces when it wasn't. When he wasn't.
How could he explain anything to Sean about why he'd jeopardized their friendship with such a monumentally stupid act when he could still taste Sean's kiss on his lips?
When Orlando's alarm went off - far too early, but not nearly soon enough - he all but flew out of the house, hoping that he could avoid Sean for, oh, possibly the rest of his natural life. Thank God Sean wasn't due on set for another few days. There was no way he could've gone to the cuntebago if Sean had been hanging about. No way he could have pretended or acted like it was all fine, not even he was as talented an actor as Lawrence Olivier and Paul Newman combined (which he most emphatically was not.)
"You look like hell," Dom observed, when Orlando walked into the brightly-lit makeup room and headed right for the coffee pot. The Pogues were blaring from the speakers, a sure sign that Dom was in a fine mood. Thankfully, Dom was the only person about. Vaguely, Orlando remembered something about Astin and Elijah having overnight shooting this week.
"Bugger off," Orlando replied, slumping into a nearby chair. He wanted to hide forever. He wondered how long it would take for Peter to replace him if he just sat here and atrophied in his chair like a rock. Maybe he could just hang about, drinking truly awful coffee, until the end of time. Or until Sean forgot about the fact that they'd kissed. Whichever came first.
"C'mon." Dom nudged Orlando companionably. He didn't look at all put out by Orlando's mood. "Tell Uncle Dommie all about it."
"I kissed Sean." The damning words were out before he could call them back. Bugger it all, one day he really would learn to keep his cunting mouth shut. He shoved his coffee cup on the counter. He couldn't stomach anything right now, no matter how much he needed the clear head the caffeine would provide.
"Bean?!"
"No, Astin." Christ, Dom was as thick as toast sometimes. "Of course it was Bean, you tosser."
"Oi, no need to be rude." Dom paused. "He's back already, then?"
"Got in last night."
"Right." Dom nodded, then his eyes widened. "Wait, seriously? You kissed Sean? Like, not in the way we're always kissing about, but seriously kissing, seriously?"
Orlando nodded glumly, and covered his face with his hands. It didn't help. Nothing helped. He could still taste Sean's chapped lips against his own. He could still feel the triple-time beat of Sean's heart against his own. He could still feel Sean's gruff moans thrumming through him. He could still feel Sean's very muscled, very naked chest against his own.
He was so fucked.
"Seriously," he affirmed, even though he wanted nothing more than to say it was a wind-up.
"Well? Go on. What was it like?" It would figure that would be Dom's first question. Not that Orlando really blamed him. Hell, if their situations had been reversed, Orlando would have asked the same thing.
"Good. Pretty fucking terrific, actually," Orlando amended. Best kiss of his life, in fact, but Dom didn't need to hear that. No one needed to hear that. Ever. "Definitely a god with his tongue, so no need to worry that he was getting above himself on that score."
"Get out." Dom looked properly awed for all of about five seconds. "He a better kisser than me, then?"
Orlando dropped his hands and looked up. Honestly, he couldn't believe his life sometimes. Here he was with a Crisis To End All Crises (note the capital letters, even) and all Dom wanted to talk about was himself. Bloody insecure actors...
"Dom, I hate to break this to you, but everyone's a better kisser than you. Even Elijah, and he's pretty bad."
"What's so wrong with my kissing?"
"You're all teeth." At Dom's blank look, Orlando sighed and leaned in. Really, he'd be doing the world a favor. Plus, the distraction would be more than welcome at this point. "C'mon. And you so owe me. Just so you know."
He started off easy enough, rubbing his lips experimental-like over Dom's, then settling in. He kept the kiss light, and easy, absolutely no tongue (he wasn't feeling that charitable and, besides, ew), and was rewarded when Dom responded, followed his lead. The mildly pleasant sensation was miles away from Dom's usual drunken attempts at kissing, which always left Orlando feeling like he was being mauled by a really short bear. Orlando was feeling justifiably triumphant when he lifted his head (seriously, he really was doing Dom's future girlfriends a favor), only to see Sean standing just inside the doorway.
Fuck it all.
Orlando couldn't look away. Sean looked just as tired as Orlando felt. There were circles under his eyes. His shoulders were slumped as if with a heavy weight. Even his clothes seemed to hang off of him differently. It was a far cry from the laughing, relaxed man on his doorstep last night.
This was all Orlando's fault. He'd caused this. Fuck fuck fuck.
"Oh, hi Sean. Welcome back." Dom's voice was bright, friendly. Like all the air in the room hadn't been sucked out in a giant ball of awkwardness. "Orlando's teaching me how to kiss properly."
"Is he now?"
Orlando's cheeks suffused with heat at Sean's mild tone. He felt like a girl getting caught necking by her father. Which was ridiculous as he wasn't at all girly (running out after last night's kiss notwithstanding) and he absolutely did not look upon Sean as any sort of paternal figure. "It's my good deed for the day." Christ, why was he digging himself a deeper hole?
"I understand."
Orlando was glad one of them did.
"How're the girls?" Dom asked, still showing absolutely no indication that anything out of the ordinary was going on. Ah well, Orlando could only be thankful that Dom hadn't brought up the kiss. He'd be going to jail for murder right about now if that had happened.
"They're grand, thank you for asking," Sean replied, with only a slightly strained smile. He pointedly did not look at Orlando. "Don't suppose either of you've seen Karl?"
"No, sorry," Dom shrugged, and got up to plug in the electric kettle. "Think he's got a day or so, so he's probably home or at Harry's."
Karl. Orlando inwardly groaned. Fucking Christ, Karl. How the hell had he forgotten about Karl? Here he was, wallowing in his own self-pity party and he'd gone off and kissed (twice, yes, he was aware of that, thank you) his best friend's lover. He was never going to be able to look at Karl again, either. Never mind that Karl and Sean weren't serious. Still. You didn't poach on your mates. It was the ironclad rule.
He could only hope that Karl would forgive him. Right after he forgave himself.
"Ah, well, I'll just drop by his place then." Sean cleared his throat, offered a half-hearted wave. "See you later."
Dom returned the wave. "Ta."
"Ta," Orlando echoed, and something heavy settled in his stomach. He needed help. Advice. Someone to tell him how to act.
It didn't escape his sense of irony that the first person he would have normally headed to for said advice was Sean.
***
Sean buried his face in his hands, doubled forward in his chair. "I feel like a fool," he stated, the words muffled. After the incident in the trailer, Sean had hightailed it off set as soon as he possibly could. Not surprisingly, he'd wound up at Karl's. Hell, if he'd just gone over to Karl's the night before, he wouldn't be in the position he was in now. He'd have had a proper welcome home shag, they'd have gotten pleasantly drunk and caught up on all the local gossip and he'd have woken up feeling refreshed and ready to go about his day instead of like roadkill.
And if he'd gone straight to Karl's, he never would have had the pleasure of finally getting Orlando in his arms for an all too-brief handful of moments.
Karl ruffled his hair in a friendly gesture as he walked past and pulled two bottles of beer out of his ice box, despite the fact that it was still morning. "Don't. I'm sure if Dom said Orlando was just teaching him how to kiss, that's all it was," Karl said, gently, setting Sean's bottle in front of him on the table and sitting across from him. "God knows that's not the strangest thing Dom and Orlando've ever been involved in."
Sean was certain his eyes had to be as bloodshot as his voice when he looked up. "I don't think I'm ready."
Karl's smile was sympathetic, kind. "Of course you are. You've been ready for weeks."
"Fine, then, I don't think he's ready." Sean set the bottle on the table, untouched. He wasn't quite up for alcohol yet. That had been the entire problem the night before. "I need to be sure for the both of us. There's...you should have seen the look on his face."
"Well, I would imagine finding out that you're attracted to one of your best mates would come as a shock to most people."
"It was more than shock." Sean thought back to last night, and how quickly Orlando had fled when all was said and done. "I should have...I dunno, stopped it. Something."
"From what you told me, he grabbed you," Karl said, pointing his bottle at Sean. "You don't strike me as an idiot, of course you kissed him back. Why wouldn't you?"
"Well, yes, but still..."
"Alright, answer me this, then. What was it like?"
And because it was Karl and at the end of it all, they'd always been honest, and always been friends, Sean answered. "Pretty fucking close to perfect."
Karl leaned his chair back on two legs, looking like the cat that swallowed the canary. "Exactly what I thought you'd say. Told you he was passionate."
"You don't know the half of it," Sean answered. He could still feel how Orlando's lips had molded so completely to his own, could still taste the sweetly sharp edge that was Orlando's kiss. He'd kissed a lot of people in his life, and absolutely no one had ever kissed him like he was necessary for breathing the way that Orlando had.
Then he let out a slow breath. "And now he won't look me in the eyes." Which, if Sean was being completely truthful, had hurt worst of all.
"Then give it time. I have faith you two'll get things sorted. You know how he is - he'll brood for a bit over it, you'll have a talk, you'll tell him what you need to tell him, and you'll go from there." Karl patted Sean's hand gently, then stood and turned towards the stove. "So, what do you want for breakfast?"
"Uh, Karl?"
"Yeah?" Karl asked, not turning around.
"We're supposed to be breaking it off now, remember?"
"Having sex," Karl reminded him, with a quick glance back and a small smile. "Not being friends." He poked his head back into the ice box. "Eggs and toast alright with you? I think I might have some beans, as well."
"Sounds perfect," Sean replied, when he could manage the word around the sudden lump in his throat.
(To Be Continued)
Author: Brenda (azewewish)
Pairing: Orlando Bloom/Sean Bean (Karl Urban/Sean Bean)
Click here for full disclaimers & notes.
Prologue | Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine | Part Ten | Part Eleven | Part Twelve | Part Thirteen | Part Fourteen | Part Fifteen | Part Sixteen | Part Seventeen | Part Eighteen | Part Nineteen | Part Twenty | Part Twenty-One | Part Twenty-Two | Part Twenty-Three | Part Twenty-Four | Part Twenty-Five | Part Twenty-Six | Part Twenty-Seven (and Epilogue) |
Orlando spent the rest of the night tossing and turning, reliving the kiss in gloriously vivid Technicolor every time he attempted to close his eyes. He couldn't believe he'd done it. He had no idea what the hell had possessed him. What in fuckall was happening to him? He didn't think about Sean that way. He just didn't.
Oh, sure and all, he always joked about Sean being one of the two sexiest men he'd ever met (the other, naturally, being Karl, so it fit that they were together), but it wasn't like he went about molesting his friends just for being sexy. Hell, he'd kissed Karl and Harry and enjoyed it, thank you very fucking much, and neither kiss had felt this awkward after.
Then again, he hadn't popped a boner the size of Auckland when he'd kissed either of them, either.
It had to be the alcohol. There was no other explanation for it. Although he was getting better, clearly he still had a problem holding his liquor. And everyone knew drinking made you a randy goat - hell, that was why a lot of people drank. Add to it that he'd spent a month missing Sean's company, and the fact that Sean did rather favor Jerry physically, and it was no wonder that certain things had happened. Didn't make it right, of course, but it was certainly understandable. Sort of. If he didn't think about it too much, which was sort of impossible, as he could think of nothing else.
Especially since none of that mental meandering explained Sean's reaction to the kiss. Because Sean? Had most definitely kissed him back. Jesus fucking Christ on a cracker, Sean had kissed him back. And Orlando most assuredly didn't favor Karl physically in the slightest, aside from the whole dark-haired, dark-eyed thing, so couldn't blame that on the whole physical proximity thing.
Hell, maybe Sean had just been drunk and horny. God knew, going a month without after getting it almost nightly for close to a year had to mean something, right?
Fuck it, he was driving himself mental thinking about it. They'd kissed (twice, he reminded himself), it was over, done, nothing more to discuss. Thankfully, nothing further had happened. They could, one year or decade, have a laugh about it and move on.
But sleep still was a long time in coming. Every time the floorboards creaked, he was terrified it was Sean coming into his room to talk about what had happened. And he just...he couldn't. Call it avoidance, cowardice, he didn't care. He wasn't ready to look Sean in the eyes and try to pretend that everything was aces when it wasn't. When he wasn't.
How could he explain anything to Sean about why he'd jeopardized their friendship with such a monumentally stupid act when he could still taste Sean's kiss on his lips?
When Orlando's alarm went off - far too early, but not nearly soon enough - he all but flew out of the house, hoping that he could avoid Sean for, oh, possibly the rest of his natural life. Thank God Sean wasn't due on set for another few days. There was no way he could've gone to the cuntebago if Sean had been hanging about. No way he could have pretended or acted like it was all fine, not even he was as talented an actor as Lawrence Olivier and Paul Newman combined (which he most emphatically was not.)
"You look like hell," Dom observed, when Orlando walked into the brightly-lit makeup room and headed right for the coffee pot. The Pogues were blaring from the speakers, a sure sign that Dom was in a fine mood. Thankfully, Dom was the only person about. Vaguely, Orlando remembered something about Astin and Elijah having overnight shooting this week.
"Bugger off," Orlando replied, slumping into a nearby chair. He wanted to hide forever. He wondered how long it would take for Peter to replace him if he just sat here and atrophied in his chair like a rock. Maybe he could just hang about, drinking truly awful coffee, until the end of time. Or until Sean forgot about the fact that they'd kissed. Whichever came first.
"C'mon." Dom nudged Orlando companionably. He didn't look at all put out by Orlando's mood. "Tell Uncle Dommie all about it."
"I kissed Sean." The damning words were out before he could call them back. Bugger it all, one day he really would learn to keep his cunting mouth shut. He shoved his coffee cup on the counter. He couldn't stomach anything right now, no matter how much he needed the clear head the caffeine would provide.
"Bean?!"
"No, Astin." Christ, Dom was as thick as toast sometimes. "Of course it was Bean, you tosser."
"Oi, no need to be rude." Dom paused. "He's back already, then?"
"Got in last night."
"Right." Dom nodded, then his eyes widened. "Wait, seriously? You kissed Sean? Like, not in the way we're always kissing about, but seriously kissing, seriously?"
Orlando nodded glumly, and covered his face with his hands. It didn't help. Nothing helped. He could still taste Sean's chapped lips against his own. He could still feel the triple-time beat of Sean's heart against his own. He could still feel Sean's gruff moans thrumming through him. He could still feel Sean's very muscled, very naked chest against his own.
He was so fucked.
"Seriously," he affirmed, even though he wanted nothing more than to say it was a wind-up.
"Well? Go on. What was it like?" It would figure that would be Dom's first question. Not that Orlando really blamed him. Hell, if their situations had been reversed, Orlando would have asked the same thing.
"Good. Pretty fucking terrific, actually," Orlando amended. Best kiss of his life, in fact, but Dom didn't need to hear that. No one needed to hear that. Ever. "Definitely a god with his tongue, so no need to worry that he was getting above himself on that score."
"Get out." Dom looked properly awed for all of about five seconds. "He a better kisser than me, then?"
Orlando dropped his hands and looked up. Honestly, he couldn't believe his life sometimes. Here he was with a Crisis To End All Crises (note the capital letters, even) and all Dom wanted to talk about was himself. Bloody insecure actors...
"Dom, I hate to break this to you, but everyone's a better kisser than you. Even Elijah, and he's pretty bad."
"What's so wrong with my kissing?"
"You're all teeth." At Dom's blank look, Orlando sighed and leaned in. Really, he'd be doing the world a favor. Plus, the distraction would be more than welcome at this point. "C'mon. And you so owe me. Just so you know."
He started off easy enough, rubbing his lips experimental-like over Dom's, then settling in. He kept the kiss light, and easy, absolutely no tongue (he wasn't feeling that charitable and, besides, ew), and was rewarded when Dom responded, followed his lead. The mildly pleasant sensation was miles away from Dom's usual drunken attempts at kissing, which always left Orlando feeling like he was being mauled by a really short bear. Orlando was feeling justifiably triumphant when he lifted his head (seriously, he really was doing Dom's future girlfriends a favor), only to see Sean standing just inside the doorway.
Fuck it all.
Orlando couldn't look away. Sean looked just as tired as Orlando felt. There were circles under his eyes. His shoulders were slumped as if with a heavy weight. Even his clothes seemed to hang off of him differently. It was a far cry from the laughing, relaxed man on his doorstep last night.
This was all Orlando's fault. He'd caused this. Fuck fuck fuck.
"Oh, hi Sean. Welcome back." Dom's voice was bright, friendly. Like all the air in the room hadn't been sucked out in a giant ball of awkwardness. "Orlando's teaching me how to kiss properly."
"Is he now?"
Orlando's cheeks suffused with heat at Sean's mild tone. He felt like a girl getting caught necking by her father. Which was ridiculous as he wasn't at all girly (running out after last night's kiss notwithstanding) and he absolutely did not look upon Sean as any sort of paternal figure. "It's my good deed for the day." Christ, why was he digging himself a deeper hole?
"I understand."
Orlando was glad one of them did.
"How're the girls?" Dom asked, still showing absolutely no indication that anything out of the ordinary was going on. Ah well, Orlando could only be thankful that Dom hadn't brought up the kiss. He'd be going to jail for murder right about now if that had happened.
"They're grand, thank you for asking," Sean replied, with only a slightly strained smile. He pointedly did not look at Orlando. "Don't suppose either of you've seen Karl?"
"No, sorry," Dom shrugged, and got up to plug in the electric kettle. "Think he's got a day or so, so he's probably home or at Harry's."
Karl. Orlando inwardly groaned. Fucking Christ, Karl. How the hell had he forgotten about Karl? Here he was, wallowing in his own self-pity party and he'd gone off and kissed (twice, yes, he was aware of that, thank you) his best friend's lover. He was never going to be able to look at Karl again, either. Never mind that Karl and Sean weren't serious. Still. You didn't poach on your mates. It was the ironclad rule.
He could only hope that Karl would forgive him. Right after he forgave himself.
"Ah, well, I'll just drop by his place then." Sean cleared his throat, offered a half-hearted wave. "See you later."
Dom returned the wave. "Ta."
"Ta," Orlando echoed, and something heavy settled in his stomach. He needed help. Advice. Someone to tell him how to act.
It didn't escape his sense of irony that the first person he would have normally headed to for said advice was Sean.
***
Sean buried his face in his hands, doubled forward in his chair. "I feel like a fool," he stated, the words muffled. After the incident in the trailer, Sean had hightailed it off set as soon as he possibly could. Not surprisingly, he'd wound up at Karl's. Hell, if he'd just gone over to Karl's the night before, he wouldn't be in the position he was in now. He'd have had a proper welcome home shag, they'd have gotten pleasantly drunk and caught up on all the local gossip and he'd have woken up feeling refreshed and ready to go about his day instead of like roadkill.
And if he'd gone straight to Karl's, he never would have had the pleasure of finally getting Orlando in his arms for an all too-brief handful of moments.
Karl ruffled his hair in a friendly gesture as he walked past and pulled two bottles of beer out of his ice box, despite the fact that it was still morning. "Don't. I'm sure if Dom said Orlando was just teaching him how to kiss, that's all it was," Karl said, gently, setting Sean's bottle in front of him on the table and sitting across from him. "God knows that's not the strangest thing Dom and Orlando've ever been involved in."
Sean was certain his eyes had to be as bloodshot as his voice when he looked up. "I don't think I'm ready."
Karl's smile was sympathetic, kind. "Of course you are. You've been ready for weeks."
"Fine, then, I don't think he's ready." Sean set the bottle on the table, untouched. He wasn't quite up for alcohol yet. That had been the entire problem the night before. "I need to be sure for the both of us. There's...you should have seen the look on his face."
"Well, I would imagine finding out that you're attracted to one of your best mates would come as a shock to most people."
"It was more than shock." Sean thought back to last night, and how quickly Orlando had fled when all was said and done. "I should have...I dunno, stopped it. Something."
"From what you told me, he grabbed you," Karl said, pointing his bottle at Sean. "You don't strike me as an idiot, of course you kissed him back. Why wouldn't you?"
"Well, yes, but still..."
"Alright, answer me this, then. What was it like?"
And because it was Karl and at the end of it all, they'd always been honest, and always been friends, Sean answered. "Pretty fucking close to perfect."
Karl leaned his chair back on two legs, looking like the cat that swallowed the canary. "Exactly what I thought you'd say. Told you he was passionate."
"You don't know the half of it," Sean answered. He could still feel how Orlando's lips had molded so completely to his own, could still taste the sweetly sharp edge that was Orlando's kiss. He'd kissed a lot of people in his life, and absolutely no one had ever kissed him like he was necessary for breathing the way that Orlando had.
Then he let out a slow breath. "And now he won't look me in the eyes." Which, if Sean was being completely truthful, had hurt worst of all.
"Then give it time. I have faith you two'll get things sorted. You know how he is - he'll brood for a bit over it, you'll have a talk, you'll tell him what you need to tell him, and you'll go from there." Karl patted Sean's hand gently, then stood and turned towards the stove. "So, what do you want for breakfast?"
"Uh, Karl?"
"Yeah?" Karl asked, not turning around.
"We're supposed to be breaking it off now, remember?"
"Having sex," Karl reminded him, with a quick glance back and a small smile. "Not being friends." He poked his head back into the ice box. "Eggs and toast alright with you? I think I might have some beans, as well."
"Sounds perfect," Sean replied, when he could manage the word around the sudden lump in his throat.
(To Be Continued)