The little AU: Primavera: Father's Day
The little AU: Primavera: Father's Day
slashfairy
~~
It seems things are changing, changing all the time. Karl's having a grand time with Hunter, re-connecting with friends in NZ theatre, TV, and cinema, seeing his family again. Viggo's deep into Good, in character and just as uncomfortable in this man as he was in Nikolai but in a different way- this man's slow descent into his complete opposite a sharp reminder of how easy it is to lose one's way step by step until one is going in the absolute opposite direction from which one set out. And Orli's settling in in London, his house there falling into shape slowly, and the so-very-different kind of preparation and work for theatre absorbing him completely. They text, they call, but each is so busy, and the time-zones just different enough this time, that they never quite connect.
In any other situation doubt would raise its ugly head and slowly undo them, but they've had their doubts and slain them, over and over. Loneliness, yes. Unsated need, of course. Unfulfilled wishes, sadly put off until later, things to share, to talk over, to practice- naturally. But doubts? Not a one that is entertained any longer than it takes to identify it.
They're in it for the long haul, these three men, in it as lovers for as long as it works for all three of them (please, God, let it be forever!) and as friends forever for sure.
Henry comes home to California and checks in with Chris, with Venice Beach, with his uncles and school friends and music buddies, then heads up the coast to the house at the end of the bluff road to check on things there, see his friend that's been so good about keeping an eye on things, seeing to the dogs: who's become, really, almost a brother; and to leave some Father's day presents for them all.
For his Dad, he leaves a few mix CDs, a painting, and a hand-bound book of poems (20). For Karl, a CD of music from classic horror movies and one of music from cheesy Sci-fi movies; a drawing, and a single poem. For Orli, a copy of one of Harry Bloom's books that he'd found in a bookstore in upstate New York, signed. Not that he thinks Orli doesn't have all of Harry's books, but this one, signed, is as close as he can get to a card from Harry to Orli, a sort of reverse Father's day present, so he's brought it and leaves it on Orli's dresser, wrapped in cloth made in South Africa that he'd bought in Toronto on a weekend's visit there with classmates.
The house on the bluff sighs and wraps itself around the life within it, keeping things warm, safe, and ready for the day the three men return home to it and to each other. It's nearly summer, and the house is ready for the change in seasons, and the changes to come, day by day, special or no.
slashfairy
~~
It seems things are changing, changing all the time. Karl's having a grand time with Hunter, re-connecting with friends in NZ theatre, TV, and cinema, seeing his family again. Viggo's deep into Good, in character and just as uncomfortable in this man as he was in Nikolai but in a different way- this man's slow descent into his complete opposite a sharp reminder of how easy it is to lose one's way step by step until one is going in the absolute opposite direction from which one set out. And Orli's settling in in London, his house there falling into shape slowly, and the so-very-different kind of preparation and work for theatre absorbing him completely. They text, they call, but each is so busy, and the time-zones just different enough this time, that they never quite connect.
In any other situation doubt would raise its ugly head and slowly undo them, but they've had their doubts and slain them, over and over. Loneliness, yes. Unsated need, of course. Unfulfilled wishes, sadly put off until later, things to share, to talk over, to practice- naturally. But doubts? Not a one that is entertained any longer than it takes to identify it.
They're in it for the long haul, these three men, in it as lovers for as long as it works for all three of them (please, God, let it be forever!) and as friends forever for sure.
Henry comes home to California and checks in with Chris, with Venice Beach, with his uncles and school friends and music buddies, then heads up the coast to the house at the end of the bluff road to check on things there, see his friend that's been so good about keeping an eye on things, seeing to the dogs: who's become, really, almost a brother; and to leave some Father's day presents for them all.
For his Dad, he leaves a few mix CDs, a painting, and a hand-bound book of poems (20). For Karl, a CD of music from classic horror movies and one of music from cheesy Sci-fi movies; a drawing, and a single poem. For Orli, a copy of one of Harry Bloom's books that he'd found in a bookstore in upstate New York, signed. Not that he thinks Orli doesn't have all of Harry's books, but this one, signed, is as close as he can get to a card from Harry to Orli, a sort of reverse Father's day present, so he's brought it and leaves it on Orli's dresser, wrapped in cloth made in South Africa that he'd bought in Toronto on a weekend's visit there with classmates.
The house on the bluff sighs and wraps itself around the life within it, keeping things warm, safe, and ready for the day the three men return home to it and to each other. It's nearly summer, and the house is ready for the change in seasons, and the changes to come, day by day, special or no.