FIC: "Jazz Hands" - 1/1, KU/OB, R, LOTRiPS
Title: Jazz Hands
Fandom: Lotrips
Author: Jo
Pairing: Karl Urban/Orlando Bloom
Rating: R
Summary: A surprise visitor shows up, and four years is a long time.
Disclaimer: Absolute, 100% fiction. I made up the whole thing.
Notes: For azewewish, because she requires bribes. And also because I owe her birthday fic. Much thanks to her as well for the wonderful beta.
"Mr. Bloom, there's someone here to see you."
Blinking, Orlando looked away from his mother and Sam. "I don't have anyone else on my list," he said, forehead wrinkled in confusion.
"Yes, sir," the usher said, with a small, nervous smile. "But the gentleman said to request a moment of your time and to give you this."
A silver ring, faint engravings nearly worn off with age, was held out and dropped into Orlando's palm. He stared at it. Eyes wide, he sucked in his breath. He didn't need to look to see the band was a near match for the one circling his right thumb.
With a mumbled apology, he excused himself. No need to say anything else. Sam knew; she'd seen the ring. It took an effort to keep his steps at a normal pace, and his hands were practically shaking by the time he'd reached the hallway. And there, at the end, by the exit door of the theatre…
"Bloody hell," Orlando breathed. He stood there, rooted to the floor, as the usher brushed past him. Four years melted away, and all Orlando could do was stand and stare as a dark head turned and hazel eyes, warm with amusement and something deeper, met his.
Orlando was barely aware of moving, but he must have, because there he was, halfway down the hall as Karl came towards him. He still moved with the same odd grace that Orlando remembered - lanky and loose-limbed - and it still felt like it should be weird that a guy Karl's size could move like that. It hit Orlando like it always had, hard and fast; a visceral punch low to the gut, and the wave of need that swept over him was practically overwhelming.
Orlando's mouth opened, closed again with no sound emerging. He fought the emotions surging up, ignored them, ignored the fact that he'd honest to God dreamed this moment so many times.
"Pictures don't do that thing justice," Karl said, voice low and laughing as he reached up to stroke a forefinger over Orlando's mustache. The touch was light, intimate, and Orlando shivered. "Makes you look like a porn star."
Just like that, the spell was broken. Orlando stepped back, flushing as he smacked Karl's hand away. "Four years, and that's all you can say," he said, almost hissing the last words.
"Orlando…"
"Well, thanks for coming." Orlando took a deep breath and another step back. He refused to see the fine lines at the corners of Karl's eyes, refused to see the faint sprinkling of gray in the dark hair of his temples, refused to see how tired Karl looked. "Call me sometime, why don't you," he said, knowing Karl never would. After all, it wasn't like he had in the past.
"Nat and I split up in January."
The quiet words stopped Orlando in his tracks. Against his will, his eyes found Karl's. "You…"
Karl shrugged, stuffed his hands deep in his trouser pockets. "Decided it was best for the kids if we weren't together, fighting all the time."
Kids? Oh, right. Orlando remembered Viggo mentioning that Karl had another son, nearly two now if his memory was correct. The fact that Karl had never called himself with that news hurt, but Orlando hoped he hid it well. "Kate and I split last September," he offered, wary.
"I know."
"Expected you to call then," Orlando said, unable to keep a little of his hurt and disappointment from bleeding into his voice.
"Wanted to. Nat, though…" Another shrug, then Karl rubbed the back of his neck and dropped his eyes. "My marriage was falling apart, and it just…time got away from me. I'm sorry, 'Lando."
'Lando. Not Orli. Never Orli, not from Karl. "Four years," he murmured, trying to search Karl's eyes. "Why now?"
"I missed you," Karl said, simply. Long fingers raked through hair that was shorter than Orlando remembered.
"You missed me." Funny, that. So funny that Orlando almost laughed. Karl missed him now, but not at any other time in the last four years?
A soft sigh escaped Karl as his hands found their way back into his pockets. "I don't want to be having this conversation here."
Orlando hesitated, looked back to the door of his dressing room. "There's a pub down the road a bit," he said, quietly, looking at Karl again. "I need to say my goodbyes first, though."
"I can meet you there."
Seconds passed, then Orlando nodded. He couldn't not do this. This was Karl and, if nothing else, they had a history. And, God…Karl got him in a way no one else ever had and probably never would again. "Get a back booth," he said, fingers brushing Karl's before he turned away. "I'll be there."
* * *
Smoke hung heavy in the air, a blue haze beneath the dim lights, and it swirled in the faint breeze as Orlando pushed through the door. He inhaled, wished he had a cigarette to steady his nerves, his hands, wondered if Karl was still smoking or if he'd finally quit. Quiet murmurs, accompanied by the sounds of a guitarist tuning up, greeted him as he made his way through the light crowd, eyes constantly moving, scanning, until they found Karl. He was tucked into a back corner booth, just as Orlando had wanted, and his smile lit his eyes when Orlando slid into the seat across from him.
"Wasn't sure you'd come," Karl said, motioning for the barmaid. He caught Orlando looking at his cigarette pack and slid them across the scarred tabletop. Guess that answered that. Orlando had half a mind to comment on it, but he let it slide as he pulled a cigarette out of the pack.
"Said I would." Orlando lit his cigarette, leaned back as a slow exhale sent smoke wreathing around his head. He nodded his thanks as a glass was set in front of him, taking a long swallow of the dark brew before looking at Karl again. "So you missed me."
Karl flashed a wry smile. "Don't waste any time, do you?"
"I've changed," was all the explanation Orlando was willing to give.
"I've noticed." Nodding, Karl studied Orlando for a moment. Light flashed off the frame of his glasses when his head moved. "Looks good on you."
"You look tired." The second the words were out, Orlando wished them back.
"Flew in from New Orleans. Filming," Karl said, when Orlando gave him a puzzled look. "You were good tonight. You've grown up."
"Thirty now," Orlando said, another touch of hurt and anger lacing his voice. He'd spent Karl's thirtieth birthday with him, and there had been a promise…
"Sorry about that, too," Karl replied, after a long pause that was uncomfortable. "That was…same day the papers were filed, y'know, and I just…fuck." He stopped, sighed, shook his head. "Can't apologize, really, for breaking a promise. I fucked up."
"Karl." Orlando waited until Karl focused on him, then set the ring on the table between them, centered perfectly between the watermarks from their glasses.
Karl opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, the band -- if that's what they were -- started. The first smoky notes from the saxophone shivered through the air, and Orlando's breath lodged in his throat. There was no protection, no defense, as he was jerked back close to seven years.
Moonlight filtered through the gauze curtains, bathing the room in a silvered blue as a soft hissing and popping filled the air before the music started. Orlando smiled as Karl moved to rejoin him. "Coltrane? Sometimes you're so predictable."
"I'm a creature of habits," Karl laughed, breath slipping over Orlando's naked skin, causing it to pebble.
"Nothing wrong with that," Orlando murmured, stretching as the music swirled around them. Warm hands, strong and calloused from sword training, slid down his back, fingertips lingering along his spine, ghosting over ravaged skin. Then a lean, familiar body pressed against his back, those same hands framing his hips while full lips moved across his nape.
"Gonna dance for me?"
"Too clumsy," Orlando said, head falling back on Karl's shoulder, shifting until Karl's cock was nestled between his cheeks.
"And you call yourself an elf," Karl said, voice rich with suppressed laughter and need. And love.
"No, Viggo calls me an elf," Orlando said, cheeky smile in place as he twisted his body, turning in Karl's arms. "Why are we talking?"
"Good question," Karl whispered, then covered Orlando's lips with his.
"Karl…" Orlando tried again, voice shaking, and he knew Karl caught it by the way his eyes narrowed. "Why are you here?"
"I wanted to see you on stage." A faint smile flitted across Karl's lips as he crushed out his cigarette. "And I missed you. Told you that."
"You missed me, but you couldn't be arsed to call more than a dozen times in four years? And, I might point out, not a single one of those calls was in the last two and a half years. Not for my birthday, not for Christmas, not even just to say hi, what's up, how's it going, mate." His fingers gripped his glass so tightly that his knuckles were white. Orlando forced his hand to ease up, to let go, and took a deep breath.
"You were with Kate," Karl pointed out. "And I was with Nat. Would you have left her for me?"
There was another long pause, then Orlando exhaled, shoulders slumping as he took a final drag from his cigarette. "No."
"First time in four years we've both been free at the same time," Karl said. His voice was soft enough that Orlando wasn't sure he'd heard right.
"You could've called." He wanted to be angry, wanted to not feel so bloody hopeful, didn't want to get his hopes up and have them crushed. Long fingers fidgeted, twisting his ring around the base of his thumb, and he couldn't remember why he started wearing it again. He'd stopped for a while, while he was with Kate, but then he'd found it over Easter, tucked in the back of his sock drawer, and putting it on had felt right. Like coming home, almost, and it hadn't mattered then that he hadn't heard from Karl in ages, or that they weren't together because he had left New Zealand and Karl had responsibilities he wouldn't abandon, but damn it. He'd thought they were friends.
"I fucked up. I know that," Karl said, dark eyes searching Orlando's in the dim light. "I can't change that, 'Lando. All I can do is tell you that I still love you and hope for a second chance…to be friends, if nothing else."
Still love you…
All the air left Orlando's lungs in a soft whoosh. The words rang in his ears, so loud he could no longer hear the saxophone wailing in the background. Karl still loved him. Don't do it, don't say it, opening yourself up again…
"Don't do this…"
"Don't do what?" Hazel eyes searched his, and Orlando didn't flinch from that steady gaze. "Don't be honest with you? Thought we agreed we'd never lie to each other."
"Karl… Look, why don't we get out of here? I've got beer back at my place, real Coltrane, it's quiet…" He heard the words, but couldn't believe he was saying them. It was too soon. But then…it really was too long in the coming, wasn't it?
"You sure?"
Orlando knew Karl was giving him an easy out, giving him a way to take back the offer that he was terrified Karl would accept. "Yeah," he said, swallowing the sudden lump in his throat. "Can't really talk in here."
"Alright…yeah, alright," Karl said, and Orlando could see his hand shake as he picked up the ring and slid it onto his thumb. Karl tossed a few bills onto the table, stood, smiled a little when Orlando slid from the booth.
Orlando returned the smile, glad that it felt easy, right. It wasn't much, he knew, but it was a start.
* * *
The entire ride back to the house was made in silence. All Orlando could do was think. The whole conversation replayed itself in his head, the words echoing until he thought he'd go mad. He opened his mouth a few times and, each time he did, Karl twitched in expectation, but nothing was said.
Finally, all Orlando could think about was whether or not it was still there. For both of them. He knew what Karl said, thought he knew how he felt, but four years was a long time.
Regardless of the fact that Orlando was wearing the ring again.
The driver pulled up to the steps, Karl complimented the house, Orlando thanked him, and that was that. But the second his key slid into the lock, Orlando asked himself if he really knew what he was doing. One way to find out, he supposed.
The second the latch clicked into place behind them, closing the world out, Orlando pushed Karl against the door, hard enough that the thud of his body hitting wood echoed through the foyer. There was a brief moment of surprise in Karl's eyes, then Orlando was there, kissing him, teeth clashing as his tongue pushed into Karl's mouth. He tasted ale and smoke, shuddered as Karl's tongue stroked over his and strong hands tangled in his hair. The kiss was hot and hard and everything he'd missed over the last four years. Orlando poured everything he felt into it -- all the frustration and anger and hurt and need and, oh God, love.
When he pulled back, they were both trembling.
Karl's glasses were askew, and he blinked at Orlando through fogged lenses. "Uh…"
"You want something to drink?" Orlando was surprised at how coherent he sounded, and even more surprised at the absurd question. He shrugged out of his jacket, tossed it across a chair back on his way to the kitchen.
"No, I'm good," Karl said, sounding nowhere near as calm as Orlando had as he followed him through the living room. "'Lando, that…"
"We still need to talk." Orlando spun on his heel, walked back across the shiny linoleum of the kitchen floor until he was in front of Karl. This was liable to backfire on him, but he no longer knew what else to do. He was there, Karl was there, and the tension in the air had ratcheted Orlando's nerves to the breaking point. The room was too small, there was too much space between them and, whatever happened in the morning, Orlando wasn't going to fight this.
"I…"
"Later," Orlando said in a whisper, hand curling around the back of Karl's neck to tug him down for another kiss. This one was light and slow, a gentle give and take of equals that had Orlando's blood surging through his veins in a heavy throb. Then warm hands, still faintly callused, were slipping beneath his shirt, still knowing where to touch him, how hard to stroke smooth skin.
Orlando groaned, deep in his throat, as lush lips slid down his throat, over his chest. All he could do was watch through heavy-lidded eyes as Karl sank to his knees, tongue tracing the inked lines of the sun, matting the light trail of hair snaking down into Orlando's trousers. Button and zipper gave way to clever fingers, and then Orlando had his fingers in Karl's hair, gently tugging until Karl looked up at him.
"I love you. Never stopped, y'know," Orlando whispered, breath catching when Karl smiled his first real smile of the night.
"I know," was all Karl said before he bent his head, and Orlando's breath caught for an entirely different reason.
* * *
Hours later, the sweat still cooling on their bodies, Orlando twisted, ignored the pull of aching muscles. "Why?" was all he said when he finally lifted up enough to look Karl in the eye.
Long fingers continued to draw spirals along Orlando's spine, and Karl finally took a deep breath. "Because," he replied, voice soft in the darkness, "I still love you. Told you that."
"Also told me you fucked up," Orlando pointed out. He resisted the urge to press closer, knowing they needed to talk now that the siren’s call of lust and need was out of their blood.
Karl nodded, fingers slipping up to curl over the point of Orlando's shoulder. "I did." He paused, and the seconds stretched out while Orlando waited. "I shouldn't have married her."
Orlando blinked. That wasn't what he'd been expecting to hear. Tell the truth, he wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but that wasn't it. "Oh?"
"We'd have both been happier if we'd kept things as they were." A faint smile, more a grimace than anything else, crossed Karl's face. Orlando's fingers immediately smoothed it away. "Not sure she ever really forgave me for you."
"Because of the whole…" Right. Orlando had known about Natalie, and Natalie had known about Orlando, but where Orlando hadn't really cared, Natalie…well… "I see." Only he wasn't sure how he felt about being the cause of Karl's marriage ending.
"It wasn't just you," Karl said, hand sliding from Orlando's shoulder to cup the back of his head. "Me and her…we were never really suited for long term. Not like…"
Orlando's eyes snapped to Karl's, searched them for a long moment. He barely breathed, was aware of Karl's breathing slowing to match his. "Think you need to finish that," he finally said, when it was clear Karl wasn't saying anything else.
"Not like me and you."
Now that was exactly what Orlando had expected Karl to say. Nice to know he was still predictable in some ways. "You think we are?"
"Think the fact that you didn't have me booted out of the theatre on my arse is a good indication," Karl replied, a small smile curving his lips. Orlando couldn't help smiling in return.
"True." He propped up on one elbow, eyes half-closed as Karl's fingers slid through his hair. "So what now?"
With a shrug, Karl lifted up to rub his lips over Orlando's in a light kiss. "Now I guess we see where it goes from here."
"Think we can -- ?"
One hand reached over, caught Orlando's. The rings pressed with a tiny click as Karl laced their fingers together. "Don't think we can do anything else."
Eyes dropping to their joined hands, Orlando was silent. He took a deep breath, then another. Shifted until their legs tangled together, and then he finally looked at Karl again. "Well," he said, with a soft, almost shy smile, "think you better tell me about this other boy of yours, then."
Fandom: Lotrips
Author: Jo
Pairing: Karl Urban/Orlando Bloom
Rating: R
Summary: A surprise visitor shows up, and four years is a long time.
Disclaimer: Absolute, 100% fiction. I made up the whole thing.
Notes: For azewewish, because she requires bribes. And also because I owe her birthday fic. Much thanks to her as well for the wonderful beta.
"Mr. Bloom, there's someone here to see you."
Blinking, Orlando looked away from his mother and Sam. "I don't have anyone else on my list," he said, forehead wrinkled in confusion.
"Yes, sir," the usher said, with a small, nervous smile. "But the gentleman said to request a moment of your time and to give you this."
A silver ring, faint engravings nearly worn off with age, was held out and dropped into Orlando's palm. He stared at it. Eyes wide, he sucked in his breath. He didn't need to look to see the band was a near match for the one circling his right thumb.
With a mumbled apology, he excused himself. No need to say anything else. Sam knew; she'd seen the ring. It took an effort to keep his steps at a normal pace, and his hands were practically shaking by the time he'd reached the hallway. And there, at the end, by the exit door of the theatre…
"Bloody hell," Orlando breathed. He stood there, rooted to the floor, as the usher brushed past him. Four years melted away, and all Orlando could do was stand and stare as a dark head turned and hazel eyes, warm with amusement and something deeper, met his.
Orlando was barely aware of moving, but he must have, because there he was, halfway down the hall as Karl came towards him. He still moved with the same odd grace that Orlando remembered - lanky and loose-limbed - and it still felt like it should be weird that a guy Karl's size could move like that. It hit Orlando like it always had, hard and fast; a visceral punch low to the gut, and the wave of need that swept over him was practically overwhelming.
Orlando's mouth opened, closed again with no sound emerging. He fought the emotions surging up, ignored them, ignored the fact that he'd honest to God dreamed this moment so many times.
"Pictures don't do that thing justice," Karl said, voice low and laughing as he reached up to stroke a forefinger over Orlando's mustache. The touch was light, intimate, and Orlando shivered. "Makes you look like a porn star."
Just like that, the spell was broken. Orlando stepped back, flushing as he smacked Karl's hand away. "Four years, and that's all you can say," he said, almost hissing the last words.
"Orlando…"
"Well, thanks for coming." Orlando took a deep breath and another step back. He refused to see the fine lines at the corners of Karl's eyes, refused to see the faint sprinkling of gray in the dark hair of his temples, refused to see how tired Karl looked. "Call me sometime, why don't you," he said, knowing Karl never would. After all, it wasn't like he had in the past.
"Nat and I split up in January."
The quiet words stopped Orlando in his tracks. Against his will, his eyes found Karl's. "You…"
Karl shrugged, stuffed his hands deep in his trouser pockets. "Decided it was best for the kids if we weren't together, fighting all the time."
Kids? Oh, right. Orlando remembered Viggo mentioning that Karl had another son, nearly two now if his memory was correct. The fact that Karl had never called himself with that news hurt, but Orlando hoped he hid it well. "Kate and I split last September," he offered, wary.
"I know."
"Expected you to call then," Orlando said, unable to keep a little of his hurt and disappointment from bleeding into his voice.
"Wanted to. Nat, though…" Another shrug, then Karl rubbed the back of his neck and dropped his eyes. "My marriage was falling apart, and it just…time got away from me. I'm sorry, 'Lando."
'Lando. Not Orli. Never Orli, not from Karl. "Four years," he murmured, trying to search Karl's eyes. "Why now?"
"I missed you," Karl said, simply. Long fingers raked through hair that was shorter than Orlando remembered.
"You missed me." Funny, that. So funny that Orlando almost laughed. Karl missed him now, but not at any other time in the last four years?
A soft sigh escaped Karl as his hands found their way back into his pockets. "I don't want to be having this conversation here."
Orlando hesitated, looked back to the door of his dressing room. "There's a pub down the road a bit," he said, quietly, looking at Karl again. "I need to say my goodbyes first, though."
"I can meet you there."
Seconds passed, then Orlando nodded. He couldn't not do this. This was Karl and, if nothing else, they had a history. And, God…Karl got him in a way no one else ever had and probably never would again. "Get a back booth," he said, fingers brushing Karl's before he turned away. "I'll be there."
* * *
Smoke hung heavy in the air, a blue haze beneath the dim lights, and it swirled in the faint breeze as Orlando pushed through the door. He inhaled, wished he had a cigarette to steady his nerves, his hands, wondered if Karl was still smoking or if he'd finally quit. Quiet murmurs, accompanied by the sounds of a guitarist tuning up, greeted him as he made his way through the light crowd, eyes constantly moving, scanning, until they found Karl. He was tucked into a back corner booth, just as Orlando had wanted, and his smile lit his eyes when Orlando slid into the seat across from him.
"Wasn't sure you'd come," Karl said, motioning for the barmaid. He caught Orlando looking at his cigarette pack and slid them across the scarred tabletop. Guess that answered that. Orlando had half a mind to comment on it, but he let it slide as he pulled a cigarette out of the pack.
"Said I would." Orlando lit his cigarette, leaned back as a slow exhale sent smoke wreathing around his head. He nodded his thanks as a glass was set in front of him, taking a long swallow of the dark brew before looking at Karl again. "So you missed me."
Karl flashed a wry smile. "Don't waste any time, do you?"
"I've changed," was all the explanation Orlando was willing to give.
"I've noticed." Nodding, Karl studied Orlando for a moment. Light flashed off the frame of his glasses when his head moved. "Looks good on you."
"You look tired." The second the words were out, Orlando wished them back.
"Flew in from New Orleans. Filming," Karl said, when Orlando gave him a puzzled look. "You were good tonight. You've grown up."
"Thirty now," Orlando said, another touch of hurt and anger lacing his voice. He'd spent Karl's thirtieth birthday with him, and there had been a promise…
"Sorry about that, too," Karl replied, after a long pause that was uncomfortable. "That was…same day the papers were filed, y'know, and I just…fuck." He stopped, sighed, shook his head. "Can't apologize, really, for breaking a promise. I fucked up."
"Karl." Orlando waited until Karl focused on him, then set the ring on the table between them, centered perfectly between the watermarks from their glasses.
Karl opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, the band -- if that's what they were -- started. The first smoky notes from the saxophone shivered through the air, and Orlando's breath lodged in his throat. There was no protection, no defense, as he was jerked back close to seven years.
Moonlight filtered through the gauze curtains, bathing the room in a silvered blue as a soft hissing and popping filled the air before the music started. Orlando smiled as Karl moved to rejoin him. "Coltrane? Sometimes you're so predictable."
"I'm a creature of habits," Karl laughed, breath slipping over Orlando's naked skin, causing it to pebble.
"Nothing wrong with that," Orlando murmured, stretching as the music swirled around them. Warm hands, strong and calloused from sword training, slid down his back, fingertips lingering along his spine, ghosting over ravaged skin. Then a lean, familiar body pressed against his back, those same hands framing his hips while full lips moved across his nape.
"Gonna dance for me?"
"Too clumsy," Orlando said, head falling back on Karl's shoulder, shifting until Karl's cock was nestled between his cheeks.
"And you call yourself an elf," Karl said, voice rich with suppressed laughter and need. And love.
"No, Viggo calls me an elf," Orlando said, cheeky smile in place as he twisted his body, turning in Karl's arms. "Why are we talking?"
"Good question," Karl whispered, then covered Orlando's lips with his.
"Karl…" Orlando tried again, voice shaking, and he knew Karl caught it by the way his eyes narrowed. "Why are you here?"
"I wanted to see you on stage." A faint smile flitted across Karl's lips as he crushed out his cigarette. "And I missed you. Told you that."
"You missed me, but you couldn't be arsed to call more than a dozen times in four years? And, I might point out, not a single one of those calls was in the last two and a half years. Not for my birthday, not for Christmas, not even just to say hi, what's up, how's it going, mate." His fingers gripped his glass so tightly that his knuckles were white. Orlando forced his hand to ease up, to let go, and took a deep breath.
"You were with Kate," Karl pointed out. "And I was with Nat. Would you have left her for me?"
There was another long pause, then Orlando exhaled, shoulders slumping as he took a final drag from his cigarette. "No."
"First time in four years we've both been free at the same time," Karl said. His voice was soft enough that Orlando wasn't sure he'd heard right.
"You could've called." He wanted to be angry, wanted to not feel so bloody hopeful, didn't want to get his hopes up and have them crushed. Long fingers fidgeted, twisting his ring around the base of his thumb, and he couldn't remember why he started wearing it again. He'd stopped for a while, while he was with Kate, but then he'd found it over Easter, tucked in the back of his sock drawer, and putting it on had felt right. Like coming home, almost, and it hadn't mattered then that he hadn't heard from Karl in ages, or that they weren't together because he had left New Zealand and Karl had responsibilities he wouldn't abandon, but damn it. He'd thought they were friends.
"I fucked up. I know that," Karl said, dark eyes searching Orlando's in the dim light. "I can't change that, 'Lando. All I can do is tell you that I still love you and hope for a second chance…to be friends, if nothing else."
Still love you…
All the air left Orlando's lungs in a soft whoosh. The words rang in his ears, so loud he could no longer hear the saxophone wailing in the background. Karl still loved him. Don't do it, don't say it, opening yourself up again…
"Don't do this…"
"Don't do what?" Hazel eyes searched his, and Orlando didn't flinch from that steady gaze. "Don't be honest with you? Thought we agreed we'd never lie to each other."
"Karl… Look, why don't we get out of here? I've got beer back at my place, real Coltrane, it's quiet…" He heard the words, but couldn't believe he was saying them. It was too soon. But then…it really was too long in the coming, wasn't it?
"You sure?"
Orlando knew Karl was giving him an easy out, giving him a way to take back the offer that he was terrified Karl would accept. "Yeah," he said, swallowing the sudden lump in his throat. "Can't really talk in here."
"Alright…yeah, alright," Karl said, and Orlando could see his hand shake as he picked up the ring and slid it onto his thumb. Karl tossed a few bills onto the table, stood, smiled a little when Orlando slid from the booth.
Orlando returned the smile, glad that it felt easy, right. It wasn't much, he knew, but it was a start.
* * *
The entire ride back to the house was made in silence. All Orlando could do was think. The whole conversation replayed itself in his head, the words echoing until he thought he'd go mad. He opened his mouth a few times and, each time he did, Karl twitched in expectation, but nothing was said.
Finally, all Orlando could think about was whether or not it was still there. For both of them. He knew what Karl said, thought he knew how he felt, but four years was a long time.
Regardless of the fact that Orlando was wearing the ring again.
The driver pulled up to the steps, Karl complimented the house, Orlando thanked him, and that was that. But the second his key slid into the lock, Orlando asked himself if he really knew what he was doing. One way to find out, he supposed.
The second the latch clicked into place behind them, closing the world out, Orlando pushed Karl against the door, hard enough that the thud of his body hitting wood echoed through the foyer. There was a brief moment of surprise in Karl's eyes, then Orlando was there, kissing him, teeth clashing as his tongue pushed into Karl's mouth. He tasted ale and smoke, shuddered as Karl's tongue stroked over his and strong hands tangled in his hair. The kiss was hot and hard and everything he'd missed over the last four years. Orlando poured everything he felt into it -- all the frustration and anger and hurt and need and, oh God, love.
When he pulled back, they were both trembling.
Karl's glasses were askew, and he blinked at Orlando through fogged lenses. "Uh…"
"You want something to drink?" Orlando was surprised at how coherent he sounded, and even more surprised at the absurd question. He shrugged out of his jacket, tossed it across a chair back on his way to the kitchen.
"No, I'm good," Karl said, sounding nowhere near as calm as Orlando had as he followed him through the living room. "'Lando, that…"
"We still need to talk." Orlando spun on his heel, walked back across the shiny linoleum of the kitchen floor until he was in front of Karl. This was liable to backfire on him, but he no longer knew what else to do. He was there, Karl was there, and the tension in the air had ratcheted Orlando's nerves to the breaking point. The room was too small, there was too much space between them and, whatever happened in the morning, Orlando wasn't going to fight this.
"I…"
"Later," Orlando said in a whisper, hand curling around the back of Karl's neck to tug him down for another kiss. This one was light and slow, a gentle give and take of equals that had Orlando's blood surging through his veins in a heavy throb. Then warm hands, still faintly callused, were slipping beneath his shirt, still knowing where to touch him, how hard to stroke smooth skin.
Orlando groaned, deep in his throat, as lush lips slid down his throat, over his chest. All he could do was watch through heavy-lidded eyes as Karl sank to his knees, tongue tracing the inked lines of the sun, matting the light trail of hair snaking down into Orlando's trousers. Button and zipper gave way to clever fingers, and then Orlando had his fingers in Karl's hair, gently tugging until Karl looked up at him.
"I love you. Never stopped, y'know," Orlando whispered, breath catching when Karl smiled his first real smile of the night.
"I know," was all Karl said before he bent his head, and Orlando's breath caught for an entirely different reason.
* * *
Hours later, the sweat still cooling on their bodies, Orlando twisted, ignored the pull of aching muscles. "Why?" was all he said when he finally lifted up enough to look Karl in the eye.
Long fingers continued to draw spirals along Orlando's spine, and Karl finally took a deep breath. "Because," he replied, voice soft in the darkness, "I still love you. Told you that."
"Also told me you fucked up," Orlando pointed out. He resisted the urge to press closer, knowing they needed to talk now that the siren’s call of lust and need was out of their blood.
Karl nodded, fingers slipping up to curl over the point of Orlando's shoulder. "I did." He paused, and the seconds stretched out while Orlando waited. "I shouldn't have married her."
Orlando blinked. That wasn't what he'd been expecting to hear. Tell the truth, he wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but that wasn't it. "Oh?"
"We'd have both been happier if we'd kept things as they were." A faint smile, more a grimace than anything else, crossed Karl's face. Orlando's fingers immediately smoothed it away. "Not sure she ever really forgave me for you."
"Because of the whole…" Right. Orlando had known about Natalie, and Natalie had known about Orlando, but where Orlando hadn't really cared, Natalie…well… "I see." Only he wasn't sure how he felt about being the cause of Karl's marriage ending.
"It wasn't just you," Karl said, hand sliding from Orlando's shoulder to cup the back of his head. "Me and her…we were never really suited for long term. Not like…"
Orlando's eyes snapped to Karl's, searched them for a long moment. He barely breathed, was aware of Karl's breathing slowing to match his. "Think you need to finish that," he finally said, when it was clear Karl wasn't saying anything else.
"Not like me and you."
Now that was exactly what Orlando had expected Karl to say. Nice to know he was still predictable in some ways. "You think we are?"
"Think the fact that you didn't have me booted out of the theatre on my arse is a good indication," Karl replied, a small smile curving his lips. Orlando couldn't help smiling in return.
"True." He propped up on one elbow, eyes half-closed as Karl's fingers slid through his hair. "So what now?"
With a shrug, Karl lifted up to rub his lips over Orlando's in a light kiss. "Now I guess we see where it goes from here."
"Think we can -- ?"
One hand reached over, caught Orlando's. The rings pressed with a tiny click as Karl laced their fingers together. "Don't think we can do anything else."
Eyes dropping to their joined hands, Orlando was silent. He took a deep breath, then another. Shifted until their legs tangled together, and then he finally looked at Karl again. "Well," he said, with a soft, almost shy smile, "think you better tell me about this other boy of yours, then."