FIC: "Progress Report" 1/1 (Harry Sinclair, Karl Urban, Orlando Bloom)
Title: "Progress Report" 1/1
Authors: Brenda & Jo (azewewish & idiosyncratic)
Featuring: Harry Sinclair, Karl Urban, Orlando Bloom
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Vampires still don't exist. And Orlando's still not in a relationship with Harry and Karl.
Summary: Orlando goes home and has a VERY long overdue conversation with Harry and Karl about expectations.
Takes place right after Meeting In Progress.
Pulling to a stop in the driveway, Orlando stared up at the castle. He absently matched windows to rooms, noting which had lights on and which didn't. Not that it mattered, because the rooms he was most curious about couldn't be seen from the drive. But the Bentley and Harry's bike were both visible, so Orlando knew they were home.
That knowledge didn't settle his stomach.
It's just nerves, he told himself, taking several deep breaths before opening the car door. That didn't help much, either, but he knew he was stalling.
Letting himself in, he dropped his briefcase and jacket on the first chair he passed. The house was silent (too silent, really, but he'd got used to it since returning from London), so he didn't call out as he passed through empty rooms. The closer he got to the library, the more nervous he became.
No question they were inside, because he could hear them talking. And he had no doubt that they knew he was there, even though they had yet to acknowledge it. So Orlando took another deep breath, opened the door and stepped inside. The conversation stopped.
"All your reports handled?" Karl asked with a smile as he looked up from the newspaper. Harry just stood by the bar, watching him.
"No," Orlando replied, quietly, looking from Harry to Karl and back. "But they're not important. This is. We need to talk about the Gift."
Harry tensed. His body shifted, like he was preparing to turn away, and the next words were out of Orlando's mouth before he could stop them.
"Harry, sit down. Please," he added, just to be polite, and gestured at the sofa. He waited until Harry had taken a seat beside Karl, and then moved to sit on the edge of the coffee table, facing the both of them. Harry was still coiled, but Karl was simply looking at him with an expectant expression on his face.
Showtime, he thought to himself, and took another breath.
"I'm formally withdrawing my request for the Gift," he said, and a sense of relief and calm washed over him at saying the words. It was as if every bit of tension had melted, like ice cream on a hot summer's day. "I might ask for it again one year or decade or century, I might not. But for now...it's off the table."
He almost started laughing at the stunned looks both Harry and Karl gave him. It was sort of a heady feeling, surprising them both into an honest reaction, and one he'd missed.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Harry asked quietly, searching Orlando's face like he couldn't quite figure out what Orlando was up to.
"Positive," Orlando nodded. "It's been dragging us down and hanging over our heads long enough, and quite frankly, I'm tired of it. You both told me back in London that we'd work on getting back to normal, but so far, that hasn't happened, and I think that's been a big part of it. So I'm making the choice to remove it from the equation. I have that right."
"You do," Karl said, sharing a look with Harry before refocusing on Orlando. "I thought you had come to terms with waiting."
"I have. This just seems the easiest way to deal with it. We haven't made any progress on us, and it feels like the two of you keep waiting for me to backslide and make another push. Well, that's not going to happen. Right now, I'm going to just be a pet and see where that takes me in life. And who knows, maybe I'll ask Lawrence instead if I ever change my mind. Or maybe Sean."
"Sean, hmm?" Harry mused, with a smile. "Have you discussed this with him?"
"No, but that's not the point." Fuck it, he was tired of waiting for Harry to make the first move. He reached forward to snag one of Harry's hands. "The point is, I don't want the bloody fangs right now. I want to be your pet - yours and Karl's," he said, sliding his eyes over to Karl. "I want to make things right between us, and I hope that you both feel the same way."
The smile that Karl gave him was breathtakingly beautiful. "It took you long enough."
Harry flipped his hand over to lace his fingers with Orlando's, and squeezed. "I was beginning to think you'd sit around wallowing in your own misery for the next year, and we'd have to step in and try something drastic."
"What?" They weren't reacting at all the way he'd expected. (And he heard Sean's voice in his head reminding him not to anticipate their reactions. Duly freakin' noted.)
"Let's just say that we've been waiting for you to remember that you have an equal say in this relationship, and an equal seat at the table," Harry said, and his smile matched Karl's for brilliance. "Although watching you punish yourself for running off and shutting us out was so much better than anything we could have concocted on our own."
"What? Fuck you," Orlando said, trying to free his hand. "That's not funny."
"He's not trying to be funny. We were expecting you to tiptoe around for a few weeks, then do something spectacularly over the top to get our attention. However, the way you threw yourself into your job and chose to spend all of your evenings at home, even when we weren't here, I must say, that was impressive."
"You let me believe for three months --"
"No, you let yourself believe," Harry gently refuted. "We've simply been waiting on you to decide you'd punished yourself enough. So have you?"
Orlando succeeded in freeing his hand, then shoved both of them under his thighs. Now that the ice was broken (so to speak), he didn't trust himself to keep from touching Harry. And that would lead to more touching and no. Just no. "I don't know," he said, proud that his voice was steady, "you tell me. Have my actions made any progress with the two of you?"
"We forgave you a long time ago, love," Karl said. "And the fact that you finally came to us and took the first step speaks volumes."
"Sean had to give me a pep talk to psyche me up for it," Orlando replied, deciding honesty was probably the best policy at the moment. "I'd tied myself into so many knots..."
"We know," Harry told him. "And we never said that you weren't allowed to go to your friends for advice or a friendly ear. All we wanted - all we still want - is for you to trust us and to come to us instead of running away. Which you did."
"So...what does this mean?" He was still having a hard time trying to figure out where things stood.
"It means thank you." Harry laid a roughened hand against Orlando's cheek, the touch welcome and so missed that Orlando wanted to weep in gratitude. "I know the decision to withdraw your request wasn't an easy one and I appreciate it for the sacrifice it is. And if and when you decide you're ready to ask again, I would hope that you'd come to me first instead of Sean."
Orlando fought against the urge to close his eyes and rub against Harry's hand like a cat seeking attention. "But you don't want to give me the Gift."
"Not right now, no. But that doesn't mean forever."
Orlando closed his hand around Harry's wrist and lifted his head. "Harry," he said, determined to get it all out. "Be honest. You don't want a fledgling. Now, later...ever."
"To date, no, I haven't wanted one, and I've never made a secret of that. But I won't say never. Especially not when it comes to you."
"I'm not going to put you in the position of having to," Orlando said. He slid back on the coffee table so he could pull his feet up and wrap his arms around his knees. "By retracting my request, it gives us both time to think about it without any pressure. Don't get me wrong, love, I want you to want this, and I want you to be my Sire one day. But I'm not going to die if I don't get the fangs back. And either way, they're not worth losing you or Karl or what we had."
Karl frowned. "Had?"
"Have," Orlando corrected, inwardly cursing himself for the slip. "Although, to be honest, I'm not quite sure what we have right now."
"One would hope we still have a bond and love and trust and the willingness to build a life together. But you tell us."
"Alright." Orlando squared his shoulders. He could do this. Maybe. "I want all of that, but I want what you talked about more. Equals," he clarified, when Karl and Harry just gave him blank looks. "But I realize now that's not gonna happen until I'm at peace with the fact that I'm never going to truly be your equal, no matter how long I live or no matter what I do or if I have fangs or not."
"What do you mean?" Harry asked, quietly.
Orlando took another breath, and held onto the bonds, drew his strength from the fact that they were both sitting here, open and willing to listen, and not shielding anything from him. "I'll never be an equal because I'll never be either one of you," he said, and just like earlier, somehow, the act of saying the words out loud seemed to free him. "I'll never have with either of you what you two have with each other, and, you know what, it's alright. It really is. Because maybe, one day, I'll find that person that's just for me, the way you two are for each other or Sean and Dom are for each other or...whatever, it doesn't matter. What does matter is, it's okay. I love you both enough to, I dunno, be at peace with it or something."
Harry lifted his hand like he was going to touch Orlando again, then dropped it back to his lap. "I never wanted you to feel second best."
"Nor I," Karl added. "I only ever wanted to make you - and Josh - feel loved."
"Being loved has never been in any doubt," Orlando said, with a small smile. "I know how you feel and how Harry feels. But the truth of the matter is that I am second best. You said it yourself, Harry. You could survive losing me, but not Karl. And that's fine. Second best is better than not even being in the race, right?"
He dropped his gaze, focused on his hands. "Would it be easier...or maybe better," he said, not looking up, not sure he could look at Harry just then, "if I did choose someone else to ask if I changed my mind?"
The reply was immediate. "No."
"Are you sure about that?"
"I'm positive," Harry answered, his voice so raw that Orlando almost didn't recognize it. "Even if you asked Karl, it wouldn't make it easier for me to bear."
When Orlando finally looked up, he was shocked to see that the look on Harry's face matched his voice. "I just don't want to be a distraction or a burden," he whispered, his voice cracking as he furiously blinked back tears.
"You could never be a burden," Harry said, and moved to sit beside Orlando on the coffee table. "You complete us - complete me - in a way I wasn't even sure was possible. Just because Karl is...first, to borrow your word, it doesn't mean that you, Orlando Bloom, are not essential to my happiness and well-being. We didn't come after you when you were in London because we were happy you weren't around - we didn't come because we were too afraid you'd changed your mind about us, and that wasn't something either of us was willing to face."
"I wouldn't," Orlando said, almost before Harry finished speaking. His eyes darted to Karl, then back to Harry. "Ever. You have to know that. Nothing that happened with Aubrey or in London has changed the fact that I am bound to you both because I want to be. I thought --"
"Go on," Karl gently said, sliding forward to sit on the edge of the sofa.
Orlando shook his head. They were both so close that he could almost touch them without moving, but he kept his arms locked tight around his legs. "It doesn't matter."
"It matters to us," Harry said.
"I thought," his voice was barely above a whisper, "that I'd disappointed you one too many times. I know I've screwed up a lot and done things I shouldn't have, but..." He rested his forehead on his knees and closed his eyes. "I'm tired of being a bloody fuck up, but I can't fix this by myself."
"No one asked you to. But we can't read your mind."
"I know." He wondered if he looked as miserable as he felt. "I know it's on me, but I'm here, right? That has to count."
"We just told you we were only waiting for you to say something," Karl reminded him. "So, talk to us. Tell us what you want."
He could do this. After all, it was nothing he hadn't already thought over a thousand times the last few lonely months, after all. "Well, for starters, I'm tired of sleeping alone. And tiptoeing around, not knowing what to do or say. I want...I want to train with you, Harry, to, I dunno, learn some of those cool ninja moves. And I want you to teach me how to meditate. And Karl, I want you to teach me all of this convoluted, crazy vampire history and all of these customs I'm supposed to know now that I'm working for Viggo. Sean and Harry both said you were the best teacher they'd ever had and I want that - the best, I mean. Even if I never get the fangs back, I'm still part of this world, right?"
"I'd be honored," Karl answered, and he looked so pleased - so flattered, even - that Orlando'd asked that he felt ashamed it had never occurred to him before now that he could ask for something like this.
"Cool ninja moves, hmm?" Harry asked, and how he kept a straight face was a miracle.
"You know what I mean."
"I do, and to repeat what Karl just said, I'd be honored. And as far as sharing our bed again, it was never closed to you in the first place. You were always welcome."
"I didn't feel welcome."
"Little one..." Harry's voice was soft, his fingers gentle as they reached to trail along Orlando's jaw. "Come here."
Orlando needed no more urging to twist his body until Harry's arms wrapped him in a strong embrace. It was like coming home all over again. One hand knotted in Harry's shirt, and Orlando held himself still for a long moment. Then he felt Karl's hand on his back.
//Please...// He didn't know what he was asking for as he sagged against Harry. All he knew was that they were touching him again, freely, and the bonds were wide open. His control fractured as soft lips touched his forehead.
//Whatever you need.// It was Karl's voice, soothing and reassuring, as he also wrapped his arms around Orlando, and held tight.
"Just this," he said aloud, and took another deep, shaky breath, relaxing against them. He felt like a man on a hunger strike who now had a feast laid before him.
"We're right here," Harry assured him, his voice a low rumble against Orlando's ear. "We're not going anywhere."
"Not now, not ever," Karl said, and placed a light kiss to his nape.
"Neither am I," Orlando promised in a thick voice. He swallowed hard, clung to Harry, then reached to wrap one arm around Karl. "I'm sorry, so sorry that I fucked up and ran away and didn't trust you, and I am -"
"Shh." Harry's lips moved against Orlando's hair as his arms tightened a fraction. "We're past that already. We're moving forward now."
"Together," Karl added. He tipped Orlando's chin up and brushed a light kiss across one cheek, then used his thumbs to wipe away tears that Orlando hadn't realized were there. "Did you truly spend the last three months sleeping alone?"
"I've been here every night, haven't I," Orlando grumbled, feeling his face heat up as he ducked his head. "I've been in one of the rooms in the west wing. I just didn't want you to think I was, I dunno, pushing. Or something."
Karl laughed again after a long moment of silence, and Orlando couldn't help wondering what Harry had said. "Three months of self-imposed celibacy? It's a wonder you're not stark raving mad."
"I thought he was already mad, and that's why he was perfect for us," Harry commented.
Orlando's eyes narrowed. "I am perfect for the both of you, and don't you forget it."
"Ah, there he is." Harry gave him another kiss, this one to his lips. "I've been wondering where that side of you had gone."
"I guess he's been asleep or something."
"We're grateful he's decided to wake up." Then Karl grinned again. "Now, can we get back to this self-imposed celibacy of yours?"
"You're just obsessed with sex."
"It's almost like you know him, child," Harry chuckled.
"I don't think anyone would blame me, seeing as how I've had you in my bed for centuries," Karl replied, in that arrogant, lord of the manor tone that never failed to make Orlando smile.
"That is a very good point," Orlando said, then the smile turned wistful. "I guess I just thought that the two of you would think less of me if I brought anyone home. That I wasn't really serious about trying to work things out between us."
"Where do you get these odd ideas about us?" Karl wondered, looking genuinely perplexed.
"That's definitely one of the things we're going to have to work on," Harry said. "Getting to truly know each other again."
"And one of the first things you need to know," Karl said, "is that we will never think any less of you if you find someone to spend some time with enjoying yourselves. In fact, I fully encourage you to explore your newfound sexuality. I can't wait to see what sort of woman catches your interest."
"Curvy," Orlando mumbled, eyes drifting half-closed as Karl's fingers combed through his hair.
"And you say he's not like you, puppy."
Harry blatantly ignored the jibe, which made Orlando giggle against his chest. "I've missed that sound," Harry commented. "But Karl's right, you know. There will still be times when you're here by yourself because we're gone on business. And there will be times when Viggo sends you out of the country or takes you with him. If you see a man or woman that draws your attention, don't hesitate because you're worried about us."
"Of course," Karl said, his tone so dry that Orlando peered at him in suspicion, "we will expect complete details afterwards."
"Karl expects complete details, not me."
"You know, respecting someone's privacy is so boring," Karl stated.
Harry, typically, didn't rise to the bait. "Well, I'd hate to bore you."
"You don't bore me," Orlando said, before they could go off into one of their usual back-and-forths. "Either of you."
"Good enough for me," Karl declared. "And if you happen to want to include us in on any of your fun..."
Orlando let his head drop forward. Truly, Karl had the hands of a masseur or something. "I don't quite think I'm ready for that yet. But I'll, um, I know I'll want to. At some point."
"Take your time," Harry said. "Remember, we're not going anywhere."
"I know," Orlando said. He pressed closer to Harry, feeling almost boneless under Karl's ministrations.
"It's nice to know that some things haven't changed," Karl said, his words soft in Orlando's ear.
"It's just because I haven't been touched by anyone in months," Orlando replied, but he was too relaxed to work up proper indignation.
"Of course it is."
"Wankers," Orlando muttered, resting his head on Harry's shoulder. "I want...I want to tell you everything. I want your advice. But first..."
He lifted his head and cupped Harry's jaw with one hand. Harry watched him, a faint smile curving his mouth, and that smile encouraged him. Stubble rasped across his palm as he slid his hand down Harry's neck, around to his nape, then gave a gentle tug. "One kiss," he whispered, then bit his lip. //That's all. Just one, love. Please?//
//You don't have to beg// Harry told him, and then those lips were on his, the kiss gentle, yet possessive. Orlando sank into it, allowed himself to drift as Harry pulled him closer, changed the angle, and took the kiss even deeper. He could still feel Karl's hands on him, soothing and light, could feel soft lips caressing the back of his neck, and over and over, the same thought washed over him like a refrain:
Finally, I'm home.
By the time Harry lifted his head, Orlando knew he was dangerously close to tears again. He felt like he was filled with too many emotions to contain. "Better?" Harry asked, brushing a thumb across the top of his cheek.
A gurgling laugh escaped before he could call it back, and he nodded, trying to compose himself long enough to speak. "Much. Thank you."
"Don't I get one?" Karl asked in a light, teasing tone, and Orlando couldn't help smiling.
"I could be persuaded," he said, turning in Harry's arms to reach for Karl.
"Persuaded, hmm?"
Orlando just nodded, trying not to laugh at Karl's expression. Then all thoughts of laughter flew from his head when Karl's lips covered his. Whereas Harry's kiss had been gentle and easy, Karl's was all fire and fury, and a tiny part of Orlando's mind knew it was deliberate.
When the kiss ended, Orlando was gasping for breath and itching for more. "That," he said, voice raspy and low, "was not fair."
"Maybe not, but I've missed putting that expression on your face."
Orlando ducked his head in a (he knew) vain attempt to hide the blush. "I guess I've missed you putting it there."
"Good." Karl looked from Orlando to Harry. "So it's settled. You'll move out of the west wing and back where you belong."
"And you'll come to us when you have an issue or if there's something you need from us or if you just want to talk, right?" Harry asked.
"I will," Orlando nodded. He was ready to promise them anything. "I know it's something I need to work on, but I'll do it."
"It's okay if you can't talk right away," Karl said. "We understand that it's not always easy to find the words."
"Just let us know that that's the situation," Harry continued. "We can wait for you to sort it out so you can talk to us."
"Just don't -"
"Run to someone else with it," Orlando finished tiredly, giving in to the urge to butt his head back against Karl's hand. "I know. And I won't. I swear."
"That's all we ask," Harry said, brushing his lips across Orlando's once more.
"Can I still get advice from other people?"
"Of course," Karl said. "Well, as long as it's not Viggo."
A startled laugh escaped before Orlando could stop it. "Are you nuts?" he asked, twisting to look at Karl. "Ask him for advice and give him more ammunition?"
"I'm not saying you'd go to him on purpose, but he does have his ways of getting information out of people."
"Especially if he thinks he needs to know something," Harry added.
"Especially when it comes to the two of us."
"I know, I know, you're both like sons to him," Orlando said. It was just one of the eight millions reasons why Viggo, to this day, still scared the piss out of him. Knowing that he would do anything to protect Harry and Karl from harm.
Harry moved back to the sofa and patted the space next to him. "How are you doing with him, work-wise? You've been putting in a lot of late hours."
It was undignified how quickly Orlando scrambled from the coffee table to the sofa, but he didn't care. "Oh, we're getting along great," he said, making himself comfortable by plastering himself against Harry's side. "He dumps tons of reports on my desk, expects them yesterday, and gets amused when I tell him I'm not a miracle worker."
"That sounds about right," Karl said, settling himself on Harry's other side. "You're not being overwhelmed, are you?"
Orlando sat up just enough to peer around Harry at Karl. "Sometimes," he admitted, wanting to be honest, but not wanting to concern them. "There's so much to learn, and I don't want to let him down or make him think he made a mistake in making me his assistant."
"Have you talked to him about it?"
"You know he hasn't," Karl told Harry. "If he's terrified of talking to us, and we're bonded to him, imagine how he'd be with Viggo."
"I'm waiting for Orlando to tell me. So?"
Orlando slumped his shoulders. "Karl's right." It felt so lowering to admit it, but it was the truth. "Of course, I haven't talked to him. He's the bloody head of the Council, he's got more important things to worry about than if I can do my job."
"On the contrary, it's vitally important to him being head of the Council that you can do your job," Harry argued, in a gentle voice. "Talk to him. He wanted you in the position for a reason, so he'll give you the help you need for you to succeed."
Karl reached around Harry to pat Orlando's knee. "It's not like Dave was perfect when he was new at being Viggo's assistant, or Miranda before him."
"Miranda was Viggo's assistant before Dave?" Although, it made a weird sort of sense. "I thought being his assistant was a stepping stone towards being on the Council, not running it."
"Miranda hates politics," Karl smiled. "In fact, she beat out Harry for the job of running the place. Not that I would have let him leave the Council, mind you, but Viggo allowed him to submit himself for the position."
"Beaten by a woman?" Orlando asked, amused.
"She's a shark in Dolce & Gabbana, as you'll come to find out."
Orlando burst out laughing. "I should tell her you said that."
"Go ahead. I believe I've said worse to her face over the years. Just keep in mind that her ruthlessness is one of her more admirable qualities. And she has many."
"Harry, love, one would think you liked her," Orlando said between giggles.
"I adore her. And if you would like to know why, just take her out drinking one night."
"There's a story there."
"Let's just say," Karl drawled, "that Miranda is the only vampire I know who can't hold her liquor, and leave the rest for you to discover."
Orlando narrowed his eyes. "Don't tell me there's something between you two."
"I'm not telling you anything," Harry replied. "It's her story, not mine."
"You always say it's not your story."
"Face it, love, Harry's never going to kiss and tell," Karl commiserated. "I've tried far too many times over the centuries to think he'll change now."
"Bloody unfair, if you ask me." Orlando crossed his arms, but didn't move. He was comfortable, that's all. "All this talk about us sharing with each other, and I still know so little about the both of you."
"Ask the right questions," Harry grinned, not sounding remotely repentant. "If you want answers, I'm happy to provide. If all you want is gossip about my conquests or lack thereof, you're going to be disappointed."
"Somehow I think the lack thereof column is miniscule."
"You'd be surprised. Not all women say yes to me."
"And some say no in a spectacular fashion," Karl added. Orlando perked up. Whenever Karl got that look on his face, it normally meant a good story. "Like that one princess of...where was it again?"
Harry gave Karl a flat look. "Didn't I just say we weren't discussing my conquests."
"Or lack thereof," Orlando couldn't help adding, earning his own look. He just flashed his most charming smile in response. "But I believe you said that you wouldn't provide details. You never said anything about Karl."
"He's got a point."
"When have you ever gossiped about my love life?"
"Never. But that doesn't change the fact that I didn't promise not to at some point."
"I could offer bribes," Orlando said, although he wondered exactly what it was he'd be expected to do to get the good dirt on Harry. Whatever it was, he was sure the price would be worth it.
"When has that ever worked for you?"
Orlando poked Harry with his elbow. "Oi, I can totally bribe people."
"People, yes. Karl and I, not so much."
"It's because he's so easy for us already. Although I will admit, giving him the illusion he can bribe us is vastly entertaining."
"So Harry really had a princess turn him down?" Orlando asked, deciding it was probably a good idea to change the topic. God only knew what Karl would say next.
"I did." He didn't provide any other details. Typical.
"So what's it like to meet royalty?" Orlando asked after a moment, twisting to drape his legs across Harry's lap. "Closest I've ever came was Paul McCartney after a concert years ago."
"You've come quite a bit closer than a knight," Karl laughed.
"I have?" Wracking his brain, Orlando tried to remember. He came up blank. "No, I haven't."
"You have," Harry said. "Sung is a champ'an, which is the equivalent of a marquis in Korea. And Aishwarya is the daughter of a maharaja."
Orlando blinked. "They are?"
"And Harry here," Karl said, and there was that grin again, "happens to be a -"
"Karl," Harry said, his free hand (the one not still firmly curled around Orlando's shoulders) moved from the back of the sofa to cuff Karl across the back of the head. "We agreed."
"Agreed what?" One day, Orlando was literally going to die of curiosity, he was sure of it. "Come on, you can't just dangle something like that in front of me and expect me not to want to know."
"Are you going to tell him or shall I?"
Harry glared at Karl for another handful of moments, then sighed. "How much do you know about Russian history?"
"Um...next to nothing?" Orlando said, with a sheepish shrug. "Sorry."
"Well, the short version is that in the early 1430s, there was a civil war after the death of Yury Dmitrievich for the throne of Moscow, and Karl and I had sworn an allegiance to the house several decades past, so when a letter came from Anastasia - Yuri's widow - asking for aid in solidifying her family's position, we went."
"Okay, so far, I'm following." Orlando had a million billion questions already, but he knew he'd never get the story if he interrupted, so he tried to project an aura of patience.
"When we got there, Anastasia was dying," Karl continued, "and all three of her sons were too young to take the throne, so, in the interest of protecting her children, and bolstering her number of men, I proposed an alliance between my house and hers. I would marry her and rule the throne until her sons came of age, and protect Moscow from the machinations of the boys' uncle, Vasily."
"Although Vasily did have claim to the throne."
"Yes, but Yury was the one that had taken Moscow, and it was his house we were pledged to, not Vasily's."
"Uh, hate to interrupt this fascinating argument about two people I know nothing about who've been dead for centuries, but how did Harry wind up in your place?" Orlando asked, looking between them.
Harry gestured at Karl to continue. "In the end, it was decided that Harry was the better military tactician and the more feared warrior, so he would be the one to marry Anastasia and take the throne until her sons came of age."
"It was possibly the longest, bloodiest decade of my life," Harry added.
"When Kosoy was old enough to rule, Harry bestowed the crown upon him, and we left the region," Karl finished. "We heard that the other two sons formed an alliance against Kosoy and overthrew him, but by then, we were long gone and, in any case, we'd kept our word to Anastasia. If her sons chose to kill each other over the throne, that was within their right to do so."
"So you're a bloody king?" Orlando was sure his eyes were about to pop out of his head, but he didn't think anyone would blame him. How had no one mentioned this over the last twelve years?
"Technically I was the prince regent. And besides," Harry continued, "the titles aren't important. The deeds are."
"Well," Orlando said, a bit snippily (but again, who could blame him), "I don't reckon I know about those either, now do I?"
Karl burst out laughing. He laughed so long that Orlando debated hitting him, but decided it would just turn into a scuffle and he'd lose, so he folded his hands in his lap and waited. "Little one," Karl finally said, wiping his eyes, "I have missed you."
"Hmph," was all Orlando said, but he felt all warm and smooshy inside. He knew Harry could feel it by the way his eyes started to sparkle, like he was amused at some private joke.
"So what would you like to know?" Karl asked, still chuckling.
"Everything. Duh," Orlando said, beaming when Harry groaned and covered his eyes. "Are there any other titles I should know about? Is Viggo like, I dunno, the emperor of Japan or something?"
"Not that he's told anyone, but with Viggo, I wouldn't be shocked if he served as Sho-gun at some point," Karl said. "He has very close ties to a lot of the old ruling families."
"And Karl has several titles as well," Harry pointed out. "Although they really aren't all that important. Anyone with money can buy a title."
"I know, I know, it's the deeds, all that yada yada," Orlando said, making a vague waving motion. "I'm sure there are plenty of those, too. So why don't you want to talk about those?"
"He thinks it's bragging," Karl smiled. Orlando could tell he was enjoying every moment of Harry's discomfiture. "And our Harry doesn't like to brag."
"Don't think of it as bragging. Think of it as educational."
"Educational?"
"Yes," Orlando said, beaming at Harry. Karl, he noticed, had settled back with Orlando's feet now in his lap (and just when had his shoes ended up on the floor, anyway?) and was watching them like a tennis match. "You keep saying you're going to be a much better teacher than Dave, but so far I'm not seeing it. I mean, I could ask Gerry, but his lectures are always so boring it's a fight not to fall asleep. I'm sure yours are much more exciting."
"I thought you wanted Karl to be the one to teach you about our culture and history."
"I do," Orlando frowned. "But I still want you to tell me about your past. There's so much I don't know about either of you, and..." He trailed off. Maybe they didn't want to discuss their past because they might slip up and talk about Joaquin. It made as much sense as anything.
"It would take a lot more than one evening to recount our history," Harry said, and patted Orlando's knee. "Besides, isn't part of the point of a relationship to discover new things about each other? If we told you everything, it wouldn't be the same."
"But we're happy to answer any questions. Unless it's about Harry's love life, of course," Karl said, with an exaggerated wink that Orlando knew was more for Harry's benefit than his own.
"You guys know everything about me," Orlando grumbled, then yawned. He clapped a hand over his mouth, feeling his face go scarlet.
"Are we boring you?" Karl asked, and Orlando gave in to the urge to throw a cushion at him. Wanker.
"Children," Harry calmly said. He snagged the cushion out of the air and resettled it in the corner of the sofa.
"He started it," Orlando protested as he stuck out his tongue at Karl.
"As he often does," Harry agreed. "If you're bored -"
"I'm not! I'm not," Orlando repeated, quieter now. "I just...I guess I haven't been getting much sleep recently. Too much time to think, I guess."
"Well, I'd tell you to go on up to bed, but I get the feeling you'd just toss and turn until Harry and I came up to join you -"
Orlando smiled sheepishly. "That transparent?"
"Like glass," Harry told him. "However, you can sleep down here, if you don't mind that Karl and I still have a few hours of work still ahead of us."
"Including a couple of spectacularly boring calls to Beijing about a new project we're trying to get off the ground," Karl added. "I'll probably fall asleep during it myself."
"If I fall asleep, you won't leave me down here, will you?"
"I'll carry you up to bed myself," Harry promised, smiling as he pressed a kiss to Orlando's forehead.
"Holding you to that," Orlando muttered as he untangled himself to go change.
Within minutes, he was back in the library, clad in a pair of cut-off sweats and one of Harry's t-shirts (he dared Karl to make a comment, any comment). Orlando completely ignored their amused looks as he settled back down beside Harry, stretching out since Karl had moved to one of the chairs.
"Comfortable?" Harry asked, amused as Orlando proceeded to use Harry's thigh for a pillow.
"Very." He settled down then, watching them pass papers back and forth, their voices a quiet hum as he let himself drift. Things weren't perfect. They probably weren't even good yet. But they were okay, and Orlando thought he could live with that for a while.
***
Authors: Brenda & Jo (azewewish & idiosyncratic)
Featuring: Harry Sinclair, Karl Urban, Orlando Bloom
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Vampires still don't exist. And Orlando's still not in a relationship with Harry and Karl.
Summary: Orlando goes home and has a VERY long overdue conversation with Harry and Karl about expectations.
Takes place right after Meeting In Progress.
Pulling to a stop in the driveway, Orlando stared up at the castle. He absently matched windows to rooms, noting which had lights on and which didn't. Not that it mattered, because the rooms he was most curious about couldn't be seen from the drive. But the Bentley and Harry's bike were both visible, so Orlando knew they were home.
That knowledge didn't settle his stomach.
It's just nerves, he told himself, taking several deep breaths before opening the car door. That didn't help much, either, but he knew he was stalling.
Letting himself in, he dropped his briefcase and jacket on the first chair he passed. The house was silent (too silent, really, but he'd got used to it since returning from London), so he didn't call out as he passed through empty rooms. The closer he got to the library, the more nervous he became.
No question they were inside, because he could hear them talking. And he had no doubt that they knew he was there, even though they had yet to acknowledge it. So Orlando took another deep breath, opened the door and stepped inside. The conversation stopped.
"All your reports handled?" Karl asked with a smile as he looked up from the newspaper. Harry just stood by the bar, watching him.
"No," Orlando replied, quietly, looking from Harry to Karl and back. "But they're not important. This is. We need to talk about the Gift."
Harry tensed. His body shifted, like he was preparing to turn away, and the next words were out of Orlando's mouth before he could stop them.
"Harry, sit down. Please," he added, just to be polite, and gestured at the sofa. He waited until Harry had taken a seat beside Karl, and then moved to sit on the edge of the coffee table, facing the both of them. Harry was still coiled, but Karl was simply looking at him with an expectant expression on his face.
Showtime, he thought to himself, and took another breath.
"I'm formally withdrawing my request for the Gift," he said, and a sense of relief and calm washed over him at saying the words. It was as if every bit of tension had melted, like ice cream on a hot summer's day. "I might ask for it again one year or decade or century, I might not. But for now...it's off the table."
He almost started laughing at the stunned looks both Harry and Karl gave him. It was sort of a heady feeling, surprising them both into an honest reaction, and one he'd missed.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Harry asked quietly, searching Orlando's face like he couldn't quite figure out what Orlando was up to.
"Positive," Orlando nodded. "It's been dragging us down and hanging over our heads long enough, and quite frankly, I'm tired of it. You both told me back in London that we'd work on getting back to normal, but so far, that hasn't happened, and I think that's been a big part of it. So I'm making the choice to remove it from the equation. I have that right."
"You do," Karl said, sharing a look with Harry before refocusing on Orlando. "I thought you had come to terms with waiting."
"I have. This just seems the easiest way to deal with it. We haven't made any progress on us, and it feels like the two of you keep waiting for me to backslide and make another push. Well, that's not going to happen. Right now, I'm going to just be a pet and see where that takes me in life. And who knows, maybe I'll ask Lawrence instead if I ever change my mind. Or maybe Sean."
"Sean, hmm?" Harry mused, with a smile. "Have you discussed this with him?"
"No, but that's not the point." Fuck it, he was tired of waiting for Harry to make the first move. He reached forward to snag one of Harry's hands. "The point is, I don't want the bloody fangs right now. I want to be your pet - yours and Karl's," he said, sliding his eyes over to Karl. "I want to make things right between us, and I hope that you both feel the same way."
The smile that Karl gave him was breathtakingly beautiful. "It took you long enough."
Harry flipped his hand over to lace his fingers with Orlando's, and squeezed. "I was beginning to think you'd sit around wallowing in your own misery for the next year, and we'd have to step in and try something drastic."
"What?" They weren't reacting at all the way he'd expected. (And he heard Sean's voice in his head reminding him not to anticipate their reactions. Duly freakin' noted.)
"Let's just say that we've been waiting for you to remember that you have an equal say in this relationship, and an equal seat at the table," Harry said, and his smile matched Karl's for brilliance. "Although watching you punish yourself for running off and shutting us out was so much better than anything we could have concocted on our own."
"What? Fuck you," Orlando said, trying to free his hand. "That's not funny."
"He's not trying to be funny. We were expecting you to tiptoe around for a few weeks, then do something spectacularly over the top to get our attention. However, the way you threw yourself into your job and chose to spend all of your evenings at home, even when we weren't here, I must say, that was impressive."
"You let me believe for three months --"
"No, you let yourself believe," Harry gently refuted. "We've simply been waiting on you to decide you'd punished yourself enough. So have you?"
Orlando succeeded in freeing his hand, then shoved both of them under his thighs. Now that the ice was broken (so to speak), he didn't trust himself to keep from touching Harry. And that would lead to more touching and no. Just no. "I don't know," he said, proud that his voice was steady, "you tell me. Have my actions made any progress with the two of you?"
"We forgave you a long time ago, love," Karl said. "And the fact that you finally came to us and took the first step speaks volumes."
"Sean had to give me a pep talk to psyche me up for it," Orlando replied, deciding honesty was probably the best policy at the moment. "I'd tied myself into so many knots..."
"We know," Harry told him. "And we never said that you weren't allowed to go to your friends for advice or a friendly ear. All we wanted - all we still want - is for you to trust us and to come to us instead of running away. Which you did."
"So...what does this mean?" He was still having a hard time trying to figure out where things stood.
"It means thank you." Harry laid a roughened hand against Orlando's cheek, the touch welcome and so missed that Orlando wanted to weep in gratitude. "I know the decision to withdraw your request wasn't an easy one and I appreciate it for the sacrifice it is. And if and when you decide you're ready to ask again, I would hope that you'd come to me first instead of Sean."
Orlando fought against the urge to close his eyes and rub against Harry's hand like a cat seeking attention. "But you don't want to give me the Gift."
"Not right now, no. But that doesn't mean forever."
Orlando closed his hand around Harry's wrist and lifted his head. "Harry," he said, determined to get it all out. "Be honest. You don't want a fledgling. Now, later...ever."
"To date, no, I haven't wanted one, and I've never made a secret of that. But I won't say never. Especially not when it comes to you."
"I'm not going to put you in the position of having to," Orlando said. He slid back on the coffee table so he could pull his feet up and wrap his arms around his knees. "By retracting my request, it gives us both time to think about it without any pressure. Don't get me wrong, love, I want you to want this, and I want you to be my Sire one day. But I'm not going to die if I don't get the fangs back. And either way, they're not worth losing you or Karl or what we had."
Karl frowned. "Had?"
"Have," Orlando corrected, inwardly cursing himself for the slip. "Although, to be honest, I'm not quite sure what we have right now."
"One would hope we still have a bond and love and trust and the willingness to build a life together. But you tell us."
"Alright." Orlando squared his shoulders. He could do this. Maybe. "I want all of that, but I want what you talked about more. Equals," he clarified, when Karl and Harry just gave him blank looks. "But I realize now that's not gonna happen until I'm at peace with the fact that I'm never going to truly be your equal, no matter how long I live or no matter what I do or if I have fangs or not."
"What do you mean?" Harry asked, quietly.
Orlando took another breath, and held onto the bonds, drew his strength from the fact that they were both sitting here, open and willing to listen, and not shielding anything from him. "I'll never be an equal because I'll never be either one of you," he said, and just like earlier, somehow, the act of saying the words out loud seemed to free him. "I'll never have with either of you what you two have with each other, and, you know what, it's alright. It really is. Because maybe, one day, I'll find that person that's just for me, the way you two are for each other or Sean and Dom are for each other or...whatever, it doesn't matter. What does matter is, it's okay. I love you both enough to, I dunno, be at peace with it or something."
Harry lifted his hand like he was going to touch Orlando again, then dropped it back to his lap. "I never wanted you to feel second best."
"Nor I," Karl added. "I only ever wanted to make you - and Josh - feel loved."
"Being loved has never been in any doubt," Orlando said, with a small smile. "I know how you feel and how Harry feels. But the truth of the matter is that I am second best. You said it yourself, Harry. You could survive losing me, but not Karl. And that's fine. Second best is better than not even being in the race, right?"
He dropped his gaze, focused on his hands. "Would it be easier...or maybe better," he said, not looking up, not sure he could look at Harry just then, "if I did choose someone else to ask if I changed my mind?"
The reply was immediate. "No."
"Are you sure about that?"
"I'm positive," Harry answered, his voice so raw that Orlando almost didn't recognize it. "Even if you asked Karl, it wouldn't make it easier for me to bear."
When Orlando finally looked up, he was shocked to see that the look on Harry's face matched his voice. "I just don't want to be a distraction or a burden," he whispered, his voice cracking as he furiously blinked back tears.
"You could never be a burden," Harry said, and moved to sit beside Orlando on the coffee table. "You complete us - complete me - in a way I wasn't even sure was possible. Just because Karl is...first, to borrow your word, it doesn't mean that you, Orlando Bloom, are not essential to my happiness and well-being. We didn't come after you when you were in London because we were happy you weren't around - we didn't come because we were too afraid you'd changed your mind about us, and that wasn't something either of us was willing to face."
"I wouldn't," Orlando said, almost before Harry finished speaking. His eyes darted to Karl, then back to Harry. "Ever. You have to know that. Nothing that happened with Aubrey or in London has changed the fact that I am bound to you both because I want to be. I thought --"
"Go on," Karl gently said, sliding forward to sit on the edge of the sofa.
Orlando shook his head. They were both so close that he could almost touch them without moving, but he kept his arms locked tight around his legs. "It doesn't matter."
"It matters to us," Harry said.
"I thought," his voice was barely above a whisper, "that I'd disappointed you one too many times. I know I've screwed up a lot and done things I shouldn't have, but..." He rested his forehead on his knees and closed his eyes. "I'm tired of being a bloody fuck up, but I can't fix this by myself."
"No one asked you to. But we can't read your mind."
"I know." He wondered if he looked as miserable as he felt. "I know it's on me, but I'm here, right? That has to count."
"We just told you we were only waiting for you to say something," Karl reminded him. "So, talk to us. Tell us what you want."
He could do this. After all, it was nothing he hadn't already thought over a thousand times the last few lonely months, after all. "Well, for starters, I'm tired of sleeping alone. And tiptoeing around, not knowing what to do or say. I want...I want to train with you, Harry, to, I dunno, learn some of those cool ninja moves. And I want you to teach me how to meditate. And Karl, I want you to teach me all of this convoluted, crazy vampire history and all of these customs I'm supposed to know now that I'm working for Viggo. Sean and Harry both said you were the best teacher they'd ever had and I want that - the best, I mean. Even if I never get the fangs back, I'm still part of this world, right?"
"I'd be honored," Karl answered, and he looked so pleased - so flattered, even - that Orlando'd asked that he felt ashamed it had never occurred to him before now that he could ask for something like this.
"Cool ninja moves, hmm?" Harry asked, and how he kept a straight face was a miracle.
"You know what I mean."
"I do, and to repeat what Karl just said, I'd be honored. And as far as sharing our bed again, it was never closed to you in the first place. You were always welcome."
"I didn't feel welcome."
"Little one..." Harry's voice was soft, his fingers gentle as they reached to trail along Orlando's jaw. "Come here."
Orlando needed no more urging to twist his body until Harry's arms wrapped him in a strong embrace. It was like coming home all over again. One hand knotted in Harry's shirt, and Orlando held himself still for a long moment. Then he felt Karl's hand on his back.
//Please...// He didn't know what he was asking for as he sagged against Harry. All he knew was that they were touching him again, freely, and the bonds were wide open. His control fractured as soft lips touched his forehead.
//Whatever you need.// It was Karl's voice, soothing and reassuring, as he also wrapped his arms around Orlando, and held tight.
"Just this," he said aloud, and took another deep, shaky breath, relaxing against them. He felt like a man on a hunger strike who now had a feast laid before him.
"We're right here," Harry assured him, his voice a low rumble against Orlando's ear. "We're not going anywhere."
"Not now, not ever," Karl said, and placed a light kiss to his nape.
"Neither am I," Orlando promised in a thick voice. He swallowed hard, clung to Harry, then reached to wrap one arm around Karl. "I'm sorry, so sorry that I fucked up and ran away and didn't trust you, and I am -"
"Shh." Harry's lips moved against Orlando's hair as his arms tightened a fraction. "We're past that already. We're moving forward now."
"Together," Karl added. He tipped Orlando's chin up and brushed a light kiss across one cheek, then used his thumbs to wipe away tears that Orlando hadn't realized were there. "Did you truly spend the last three months sleeping alone?"
"I've been here every night, haven't I," Orlando grumbled, feeling his face heat up as he ducked his head. "I've been in one of the rooms in the west wing. I just didn't want you to think I was, I dunno, pushing. Or something."
Karl laughed again after a long moment of silence, and Orlando couldn't help wondering what Harry had said. "Three months of self-imposed celibacy? It's a wonder you're not stark raving mad."
"I thought he was already mad, and that's why he was perfect for us," Harry commented.
Orlando's eyes narrowed. "I am perfect for the both of you, and don't you forget it."
"Ah, there he is." Harry gave him another kiss, this one to his lips. "I've been wondering where that side of you had gone."
"I guess he's been asleep or something."
"We're grateful he's decided to wake up." Then Karl grinned again. "Now, can we get back to this self-imposed celibacy of yours?"
"You're just obsessed with sex."
"It's almost like you know him, child," Harry chuckled.
"I don't think anyone would blame me, seeing as how I've had you in my bed for centuries," Karl replied, in that arrogant, lord of the manor tone that never failed to make Orlando smile.
"That is a very good point," Orlando said, then the smile turned wistful. "I guess I just thought that the two of you would think less of me if I brought anyone home. That I wasn't really serious about trying to work things out between us."
"Where do you get these odd ideas about us?" Karl wondered, looking genuinely perplexed.
"That's definitely one of the things we're going to have to work on," Harry said. "Getting to truly know each other again."
"And one of the first things you need to know," Karl said, "is that we will never think any less of you if you find someone to spend some time with enjoying yourselves. In fact, I fully encourage you to explore your newfound sexuality. I can't wait to see what sort of woman catches your interest."
"Curvy," Orlando mumbled, eyes drifting half-closed as Karl's fingers combed through his hair.
"And you say he's not like you, puppy."
Harry blatantly ignored the jibe, which made Orlando giggle against his chest. "I've missed that sound," Harry commented. "But Karl's right, you know. There will still be times when you're here by yourself because we're gone on business. And there will be times when Viggo sends you out of the country or takes you with him. If you see a man or woman that draws your attention, don't hesitate because you're worried about us."
"Of course," Karl said, his tone so dry that Orlando peered at him in suspicion, "we will expect complete details afterwards."
"Karl expects complete details, not me."
"You know, respecting someone's privacy is so boring," Karl stated.
Harry, typically, didn't rise to the bait. "Well, I'd hate to bore you."
"You don't bore me," Orlando said, before they could go off into one of their usual back-and-forths. "Either of you."
"Good enough for me," Karl declared. "And if you happen to want to include us in on any of your fun..."
Orlando let his head drop forward. Truly, Karl had the hands of a masseur or something. "I don't quite think I'm ready for that yet. But I'll, um, I know I'll want to. At some point."
"Take your time," Harry said. "Remember, we're not going anywhere."
"I know," Orlando said. He pressed closer to Harry, feeling almost boneless under Karl's ministrations.
"It's nice to know that some things haven't changed," Karl said, his words soft in Orlando's ear.
"It's just because I haven't been touched by anyone in months," Orlando replied, but he was too relaxed to work up proper indignation.
"Of course it is."
"Wankers," Orlando muttered, resting his head on Harry's shoulder. "I want...I want to tell you everything. I want your advice. But first..."
He lifted his head and cupped Harry's jaw with one hand. Harry watched him, a faint smile curving his mouth, and that smile encouraged him. Stubble rasped across his palm as he slid his hand down Harry's neck, around to his nape, then gave a gentle tug. "One kiss," he whispered, then bit his lip. //That's all. Just one, love. Please?//
//You don't have to beg// Harry told him, and then those lips were on his, the kiss gentle, yet possessive. Orlando sank into it, allowed himself to drift as Harry pulled him closer, changed the angle, and took the kiss even deeper. He could still feel Karl's hands on him, soothing and light, could feel soft lips caressing the back of his neck, and over and over, the same thought washed over him like a refrain:
Finally, I'm home.
By the time Harry lifted his head, Orlando knew he was dangerously close to tears again. He felt like he was filled with too many emotions to contain. "Better?" Harry asked, brushing a thumb across the top of his cheek.
A gurgling laugh escaped before he could call it back, and he nodded, trying to compose himself long enough to speak. "Much. Thank you."
"Don't I get one?" Karl asked in a light, teasing tone, and Orlando couldn't help smiling.
"I could be persuaded," he said, turning in Harry's arms to reach for Karl.
"Persuaded, hmm?"
Orlando just nodded, trying not to laugh at Karl's expression. Then all thoughts of laughter flew from his head when Karl's lips covered his. Whereas Harry's kiss had been gentle and easy, Karl's was all fire and fury, and a tiny part of Orlando's mind knew it was deliberate.
When the kiss ended, Orlando was gasping for breath and itching for more. "That," he said, voice raspy and low, "was not fair."
"Maybe not, but I've missed putting that expression on your face."
Orlando ducked his head in a (he knew) vain attempt to hide the blush. "I guess I've missed you putting it there."
"Good." Karl looked from Orlando to Harry. "So it's settled. You'll move out of the west wing and back where you belong."
"And you'll come to us when you have an issue or if there's something you need from us or if you just want to talk, right?" Harry asked.
"I will," Orlando nodded. He was ready to promise them anything. "I know it's something I need to work on, but I'll do it."
"It's okay if you can't talk right away," Karl said. "We understand that it's not always easy to find the words."
"Just let us know that that's the situation," Harry continued. "We can wait for you to sort it out so you can talk to us."
"Just don't -"
"Run to someone else with it," Orlando finished tiredly, giving in to the urge to butt his head back against Karl's hand. "I know. And I won't. I swear."
"That's all we ask," Harry said, brushing his lips across Orlando's once more.
"Can I still get advice from other people?"
"Of course," Karl said. "Well, as long as it's not Viggo."
A startled laugh escaped before Orlando could stop it. "Are you nuts?" he asked, twisting to look at Karl. "Ask him for advice and give him more ammunition?"
"I'm not saying you'd go to him on purpose, but he does have his ways of getting information out of people."
"Especially if he thinks he needs to know something," Harry added.
"Especially when it comes to the two of us."
"I know, I know, you're both like sons to him," Orlando said. It was just one of the eight millions reasons why Viggo, to this day, still scared the piss out of him. Knowing that he would do anything to protect Harry and Karl from harm.
Harry moved back to the sofa and patted the space next to him. "How are you doing with him, work-wise? You've been putting in a lot of late hours."
It was undignified how quickly Orlando scrambled from the coffee table to the sofa, but he didn't care. "Oh, we're getting along great," he said, making himself comfortable by plastering himself against Harry's side. "He dumps tons of reports on my desk, expects them yesterday, and gets amused when I tell him I'm not a miracle worker."
"That sounds about right," Karl said, settling himself on Harry's other side. "You're not being overwhelmed, are you?"
Orlando sat up just enough to peer around Harry at Karl. "Sometimes," he admitted, wanting to be honest, but not wanting to concern them. "There's so much to learn, and I don't want to let him down or make him think he made a mistake in making me his assistant."
"Have you talked to him about it?"
"You know he hasn't," Karl told Harry. "If he's terrified of talking to us, and we're bonded to him, imagine how he'd be with Viggo."
"I'm waiting for Orlando to tell me. So?"
Orlando slumped his shoulders. "Karl's right." It felt so lowering to admit it, but it was the truth. "Of course, I haven't talked to him. He's the bloody head of the Council, he's got more important things to worry about than if I can do my job."
"On the contrary, it's vitally important to him being head of the Council that you can do your job," Harry argued, in a gentle voice. "Talk to him. He wanted you in the position for a reason, so he'll give you the help you need for you to succeed."
Karl reached around Harry to pat Orlando's knee. "It's not like Dave was perfect when he was new at being Viggo's assistant, or Miranda before him."
"Miranda was Viggo's assistant before Dave?" Although, it made a weird sort of sense. "I thought being his assistant was a stepping stone towards being on the Council, not running it."
"Miranda hates politics," Karl smiled. "In fact, she beat out Harry for the job of running the place. Not that I would have let him leave the Council, mind you, but Viggo allowed him to submit himself for the position."
"Beaten by a woman?" Orlando asked, amused.
"She's a shark in Dolce & Gabbana, as you'll come to find out."
Orlando burst out laughing. "I should tell her you said that."
"Go ahead. I believe I've said worse to her face over the years. Just keep in mind that her ruthlessness is one of her more admirable qualities. And she has many."
"Harry, love, one would think you liked her," Orlando said between giggles.
"I adore her. And if you would like to know why, just take her out drinking one night."
"There's a story there."
"Let's just say," Karl drawled, "that Miranda is the only vampire I know who can't hold her liquor, and leave the rest for you to discover."
Orlando narrowed his eyes. "Don't tell me there's something between you two."
"I'm not telling you anything," Harry replied. "It's her story, not mine."
"You always say it's not your story."
"Face it, love, Harry's never going to kiss and tell," Karl commiserated. "I've tried far too many times over the centuries to think he'll change now."
"Bloody unfair, if you ask me." Orlando crossed his arms, but didn't move. He was comfortable, that's all. "All this talk about us sharing with each other, and I still know so little about the both of you."
"Ask the right questions," Harry grinned, not sounding remotely repentant. "If you want answers, I'm happy to provide. If all you want is gossip about my conquests or lack thereof, you're going to be disappointed."
"Somehow I think the lack thereof column is miniscule."
"You'd be surprised. Not all women say yes to me."
"And some say no in a spectacular fashion," Karl added. Orlando perked up. Whenever Karl got that look on his face, it normally meant a good story. "Like that one princess of...where was it again?"
Harry gave Karl a flat look. "Didn't I just say we weren't discussing my conquests."
"Or lack thereof," Orlando couldn't help adding, earning his own look. He just flashed his most charming smile in response. "But I believe you said that you wouldn't provide details. You never said anything about Karl."
"He's got a point."
"When have you ever gossiped about my love life?"
"Never. But that doesn't change the fact that I didn't promise not to at some point."
"I could offer bribes," Orlando said, although he wondered exactly what it was he'd be expected to do to get the good dirt on Harry. Whatever it was, he was sure the price would be worth it.
"When has that ever worked for you?"
Orlando poked Harry with his elbow. "Oi, I can totally bribe people."
"People, yes. Karl and I, not so much."
"It's because he's so easy for us already. Although I will admit, giving him the illusion he can bribe us is vastly entertaining."
"So Harry really had a princess turn him down?" Orlando asked, deciding it was probably a good idea to change the topic. God only knew what Karl would say next.
"I did." He didn't provide any other details. Typical.
"So what's it like to meet royalty?" Orlando asked after a moment, twisting to drape his legs across Harry's lap. "Closest I've ever came was Paul McCartney after a concert years ago."
"You've come quite a bit closer than a knight," Karl laughed.
"I have?" Wracking his brain, Orlando tried to remember. He came up blank. "No, I haven't."
"You have," Harry said. "Sung is a champ'an, which is the equivalent of a marquis in Korea. And Aishwarya is the daughter of a maharaja."
Orlando blinked. "They are?"
"And Harry here," Karl said, and there was that grin again, "happens to be a -"
"Karl," Harry said, his free hand (the one not still firmly curled around Orlando's shoulders) moved from the back of the sofa to cuff Karl across the back of the head. "We agreed."
"Agreed what?" One day, Orlando was literally going to die of curiosity, he was sure of it. "Come on, you can't just dangle something like that in front of me and expect me not to want to know."
"Are you going to tell him or shall I?"
Harry glared at Karl for another handful of moments, then sighed. "How much do you know about Russian history?"
"Um...next to nothing?" Orlando said, with a sheepish shrug. "Sorry."
"Well, the short version is that in the early 1430s, there was a civil war after the death of Yury Dmitrievich for the throne of Moscow, and Karl and I had sworn an allegiance to the house several decades past, so when a letter came from Anastasia - Yuri's widow - asking for aid in solidifying her family's position, we went."
"Okay, so far, I'm following." Orlando had a million billion questions already, but he knew he'd never get the story if he interrupted, so he tried to project an aura of patience.
"When we got there, Anastasia was dying," Karl continued, "and all three of her sons were too young to take the throne, so, in the interest of protecting her children, and bolstering her number of men, I proposed an alliance between my house and hers. I would marry her and rule the throne until her sons came of age, and protect Moscow from the machinations of the boys' uncle, Vasily."
"Although Vasily did have claim to the throne."
"Yes, but Yury was the one that had taken Moscow, and it was his house we were pledged to, not Vasily's."
"Uh, hate to interrupt this fascinating argument about two people I know nothing about who've been dead for centuries, but how did Harry wind up in your place?" Orlando asked, looking between them.
Harry gestured at Karl to continue. "In the end, it was decided that Harry was the better military tactician and the more feared warrior, so he would be the one to marry Anastasia and take the throne until her sons came of age."
"It was possibly the longest, bloodiest decade of my life," Harry added.
"When Kosoy was old enough to rule, Harry bestowed the crown upon him, and we left the region," Karl finished. "We heard that the other two sons formed an alliance against Kosoy and overthrew him, but by then, we were long gone and, in any case, we'd kept our word to Anastasia. If her sons chose to kill each other over the throne, that was within their right to do so."
"So you're a bloody king?" Orlando was sure his eyes were about to pop out of his head, but he didn't think anyone would blame him. How had no one mentioned this over the last twelve years?
"Technically I was the prince regent. And besides," Harry continued, "the titles aren't important. The deeds are."
"Well," Orlando said, a bit snippily (but again, who could blame him), "I don't reckon I know about those either, now do I?"
Karl burst out laughing. He laughed so long that Orlando debated hitting him, but decided it would just turn into a scuffle and he'd lose, so he folded his hands in his lap and waited. "Little one," Karl finally said, wiping his eyes, "I have missed you."
"Hmph," was all Orlando said, but he felt all warm and smooshy inside. He knew Harry could feel it by the way his eyes started to sparkle, like he was amused at some private joke.
"So what would you like to know?" Karl asked, still chuckling.
"Everything. Duh," Orlando said, beaming when Harry groaned and covered his eyes. "Are there any other titles I should know about? Is Viggo like, I dunno, the emperor of Japan or something?"
"Not that he's told anyone, but with Viggo, I wouldn't be shocked if he served as Sho-gun at some point," Karl said. "He has very close ties to a lot of the old ruling families."
"And Karl has several titles as well," Harry pointed out. "Although they really aren't all that important. Anyone with money can buy a title."
"I know, I know, it's the deeds, all that yada yada," Orlando said, making a vague waving motion. "I'm sure there are plenty of those, too. So why don't you want to talk about those?"
"He thinks it's bragging," Karl smiled. Orlando could tell he was enjoying every moment of Harry's discomfiture. "And our Harry doesn't like to brag."
"Don't think of it as bragging. Think of it as educational."
"Educational?"
"Yes," Orlando said, beaming at Harry. Karl, he noticed, had settled back with Orlando's feet now in his lap (and just when had his shoes ended up on the floor, anyway?) and was watching them like a tennis match. "You keep saying you're going to be a much better teacher than Dave, but so far I'm not seeing it. I mean, I could ask Gerry, but his lectures are always so boring it's a fight not to fall asleep. I'm sure yours are much more exciting."
"I thought you wanted Karl to be the one to teach you about our culture and history."
"I do," Orlando frowned. "But I still want you to tell me about your past. There's so much I don't know about either of you, and..." He trailed off. Maybe they didn't want to discuss their past because they might slip up and talk about Joaquin. It made as much sense as anything.
"It would take a lot more than one evening to recount our history," Harry said, and patted Orlando's knee. "Besides, isn't part of the point of a relationship to discover new things about each other? If we told you everything, it wouldn't be the same."
"But we're happy to answer any questions. Unless it's about Harry's love life, of course," Karl said, with an exaggerated wink that Orlando knew was more for Harry's benefit than his own.
"You guys know everything about me," Orlando grumbled, then yawned. He clapped a hand over his mouth, feeling his face go scarlet.
"Are we boring you?" Karl asked, and Orlando gave in to the urge to throw a cushion at him. Wanker.
"Children," Harry calmly said. He snagged the cushion out of the air and resettled it in the corner of the sofa.
"He started it," Orlando protested as he stuck out his tongue at Karl.
"As he often does," Harry agreed. "If you're bored -"
"I'm not! I'm not," Orlando repeated, quieter now. "I just...I guess I haven't been getting much sleep recently. Too much time to think, I guess."
"Well, I'd tell you to go on up to bed, but I get the feeling you'd just toss and turn until Harry and I came up to join you -"
Orlando smiled sheepishly. "That transparent?"
"Like glass," Harry told him. "However, you can sleep down here, if you don't mind that Karl and I still have a few hours of work still ahead of us."
"Including a couple of spectacularly boring calls to Beijing about a new project we're trying to get off the ground," Karl added. "I'll probably fall asleep during it myself."
"If I fall asleep, you won't leave me down here, will you?"
"I'll carry you up to bed myself," Harry promised, smiling as he pressed a kiss to Orlando's forehead.
"Holding you to that," Orlando muttered as he untangled himself to go change.
Within minutes, he was back in the library, clad in a pair of cut-off sweats and one of Harry's t-shirts (he dared Karl to make a comment, any comment). Orlando completely ignored their amused looks as he settled back down beside Harry, stretching out since Karl had moved to one of the chairs.
"Comfortable?" Harry asked, amused as Orlando proceeded to use Harry's thigh for a pillow.
"Very." He settled down then, watching them pass papers back and forth, their voices a quiet hum as he let himself drift. Things weren't perfect. They probably weren't even good yet. But they were okay, and Orlando thought he could live with that for a while.
***