FIC: "Temporary Monogamy" (Part Ten) (Orlando Bloom/Sean Bean, Karl Urban/Sean Bean)
Title: "Temporary Monogamy" (10/27)
Author: Brenda (azewewish)
Pairing: Orlando Bloom/Sean Bean (Karl Urban/Sean Bean)
Click here for full disclaimers & notes.
Prologue | Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine | Part Ten | Part Eleven | Part Twelve | Part Thirteen | Part Fourteen | Part Fifteen | Part Sixteen | Part Seventeen | Part Eighteen | Part Nineteen | Part Twenty | Part Twenty-One | Part Twenty-Two | Part Twenty-Three | Part Twenty-Four | Part Twenty-Five | Part Twenty-Six | Part Twenty-Seven (and Epilogue) |
Billy's weekly Garage Sale Poker Game was already enough of a tradition that everyone dropped by at some point during the night, to play a few hands or to nip at Bernard's excellent scotch or, in Dave's case, to fleece anyone stupid enough to bet against him. Miranda'd told Orlando that fleecing people was just in an Aussie's blood. "Sort of how brooding is in the British nature," she'd said at the time, and cackled at her own wit.
Orlando had brooded over her statement for three days before he started to appreciate the irony in it.
The other tradition was to try to either get everyone else at the table drunk enough to make outrageously stupid bets (which always worked with Elijah and never worked with Sean) or to flummox them totally by asking wild and bizarre questions designed to throw them off the game (which always worked with everyone with varying degrees of success, except Viggo, who had weirdness down to an art form), as well as to bet the most outrageous items available (hence the name).
Tonight, Orlando was down thirty pretzels, a bottle of port, a beach towel, and a stuffed parrot. He blamed his lack of concentration on too little sleep - between bad dates, long hours on set, and the brutal hell of filming the Mines of Moria sequence, he was fucking exhausted most days, and tonight was no exception. By all rights, he should be home watching reruns of 'Shortland Street' so he could give Karl and Craig hell for it later, but staying home held little appeal. Even if he was losing his proverbial shirt.
Still. He had to earn some of his winnings back or he'd be forced to bet his Hercules: The Legendary Journeys coffee mug that he'd won off of Karl the week before, and there was no way he was giving that up. He'd already lost his prized blue-sequined cowboy hat his best mate had given him as a going away gift as it was. Oddly, the hat looked fantastic on Karl. Then again, Karl made the ridiculous seem perfectly ordinary. Which went a long way towards explaining why he got on so well with Viggo.
Which reminded him, he had to ask if either of them was responsible for the stuffed ducks that had been found in Richard Taylor's office the other morning. Whole room was full of the damn things, looked like a taxidermy gone mad. Seemed slightly tame by their standards, but he couldn't think of anyone else that could have stolen in with however many ducks it was and then gotten into Richard's office. He was continually in awe of their breaking and entering prowess.
"Stop concentrating so hard, Orli, you know you're not going to win this hand," Dave said, grinning around his cards. In contrast to Orlando's pitiful pile, Dave had already won two bags of crisps, a teddy bear, a Buddy Christ day-glo figure of some sort, a bright red knitted scarf, a truly hideous pair of board shorts, and a beaded manpurse that, for some reason, Billy'd had in his possession. Man was a bloody card shark, complete with fins.
"I might."
"I hate to break it to you, mate, but while you might be a whiz at chess, you're crap at poker," Dom said, patting Orlando on the shoulder. "Best to admit defeat now."
"Bugger off, you're a worse player than I am."
"He does have you there," Sean laughed, around the wreath of smoke created by his cigarette. Made him look a little like a sexy religious figure. Then again, Sean could afford to laugh. He had a bloody good stockpile going on himself.
"So." Orlando looked back and forth between Sean and Karl with a waggle of his brows. He pointedly ignored his pitiful hand (and damn Dave, anyway, and all redheads while he was at it). He was definitely going to have to bet the Arthur Dent alarm clock as it was. Time for a little misdirection. "How's paradise in the old love shack?"
Dom perked up and put down his cards, which was a small triumph in itself. "Oooh, can we hear naughty details?"
"Do we have to hear the kissing parts?" Dave mock groaned.
"Someday you might not mind so much," Karl continued, in his best grandfatherly voice.
Randomly quoting 'The Princess Bride' had, for some inexplicable reason (although Orlando really blamed Elijah for that, since he was forever chatting the film up like it was somehow better than Monty Python and the Holy Grail for Best Film Ever), already become a poker night tradition.
"We're alright," Sean said. Orlando's gaze dropped in time to see Sean's free hand sweep across Karl's thigh in a gentle, possessive glide. He vaguely remembered proprietary touches, and how nice it had felt to give and receive them. Jemma, in particular, had been fond of Orlando's hand on the small of her back. It had been so long since he'd been that comfortable around anyone that wasn't a mate.
"It's been a great ride so far," Karl added, then chuckled when Billy leered in a friendly manner. "You need to get out more, mate, if that rocks your world."
"Whenever you're ready for a real man, instead of that one, just let me know," Billy said, and tossed two cards down on the table.
"He'd break you," Dom pointed out.
"Could be worth it."
Sean's sly grin filled the dark corners of the room with the promise of sin as he exhaled a stream of smoke. "Oh, I'd say Karl's definitely worth it."
"Compliments will definitely get you laid later," Karl said. His smirk could've put James Bond's to shame.
"Tell me, is there anything that Sean does that won't get him laid later?" Billy asked, fluttering his eyelashes outrageously. Only Billy could get away with making that look not completely ridiculous.
"Not really." Karl dropped an affectionate kiss to the top of Sean's head when he stood. "Hitting the head. Anyone else want another beer while I'm up?"
Dom, Dave, and Billy held up their hands. "Me too, ta," Orlando said, and then knocked his knuckles on the table to call for another card. May as well get back to the game, since distraction didn’t seem to be working. And if he kept watching Sean, he'd just steal one of his fags. He'd been trying to cut down on smoking lately to keep pace with Viggo during the running scenes, which shouldn't have been so difficult, considering how much pot Viggo smoked, but maybe pot smoke was different than cigarette smoke or something, who knew. All he did know was staring at Sean made him crave a smoke in the worst way.
"You and Karl really are the cutest couple on set," Dom remarked to Sean.
"No one else would put up with them," Dave said, and tossed in a bizarre-looking amoeba-like thingy that lit up when one squeezed it into the pot. Orlando had no idea where his friends got the crap they did.
Billy's eyes twinkled. "Aye, at least they've each other."
"And that's a lot. For love," Orlando chimed in, knowing exactly where Billy was going with this.
"We'll give it a shot," Dom continued, in a perfectly straight voice. In unison, the four of them looked at each other, then Sean, and started singing.
"Oooooooooh, we're halfway theeeere... OoooOoooh, we're living on a pray-er..."
Karl, who'd just come back from the kitchen, beers in tow, almost doubled over laughing before he joined in the impromptu Bon Jovi karaoke, even providing a little Richie Sambora hip-wiggle. Sean just looked on and smiled the sort of bemused smile that he sometimes got when he had no idea what was going on. It was a look that he normally reserved for Viggo.
Harry waltzed in the back door just as the song was coming to its crescendo. He stopped short, taking in the scene with a benign look and held up the two bottles of scotch he'd brought in with him. "I take it we won't be needing these."
"Harry!" Orlando exclaimed, beaming at him with what he was sure was a mega-watt smile. He hadn't seen Harry in awhile, and was just thinking he'd missed the mad coot. "Just what the party needed."
"Right diamond geezer you are, too, to provide such luscious libations," Billy added.
Harry dropped into the empty chair on Karl's other side. "Can you translate that? I don't speak Crazy Scots."
Karl patted Harry's hand absentmindedly. "I think he's happy you're wanting you to share."
"Why I brought it."
"You playing tonight?" Dave wanted to know, holding up the deck of cards.
Harry shook his head. "Just here for the company. And to help Orlando cheat."
"Oi, I do not cheat." And, to think he'd been happy to see Harry, too.
"The hell you don't," Dave retorted. He shuffled the remaining cards like a pro and started dealing the next cards. "Remember last week when you tried to bet a date with your sister?"
And had been a rather brilliant diversionary tactic at the time, if Orlando did say so himself. "It's not like I bet on her virginity or anything."
"Yes, but the point is, you can only bet what's at the table," Billy explained, carefully enunciating each word like Orlando was a toddler. He was beginning to feel like Elijah with Tig. Half the time, he was convinced they made up half the rules on poker nights as they went along, sort of like how they played Hobbit Golf.
"I think it's fine if you bet your sister," Karl said, and gave Orlando the fist pump of solidarity.
"This from the man who wouldn't bet a kiss with Sean, who is at the table," Dom replied.
"Maybe my lips are more valuable than Samantha's," Sean grinned.
"Well, Dom, you could always bet Orlando to make it even," Harry suggested.
"Wait, what?!"
"Excellent." Dom rubbed his hands together and ignored Orlando's bug-eyed stare. "I won't bet my excellent hand if you kiss Billy."
Seriously, what was wrong with his friends and their mental health? "What???"
"Go on, then." Dom waved a hand regally while Dave choked on his own laughter and Billy, Harry, Sean, and Karl watched the exchange like it was Wimbledon. "Your tongue has touched Sean's, and Sean's tongue has touched Karl's, so if you kiss Billy, it'll be like he finally gets to touch tongues with Karl. And I'm all for making Bills happy."
Everyone at the table gawked at Dom. "That's Viggo-like logic, that is," Billy finally said, with something like awe in his voice.
"Only in English and not in ancient Hindi or whatever Viggo's learning to speak this week," Harry shrugged.
"I am not kissing Billy," Orlando stated, enunciating each word loudly and clearly, just in case anyone started getting ideas. He wouldn't put it past this lot. "Besides, I bet your hand's crap. Worse at poker than me, remember."
"Am not."
"You are, too."
"Children." Sean held up a hand, waited for Dom and Orlando to turn their attention towards him. "Karl, go on, give Billy a little something to tide him over so we can get on with it. I've got my eye on Dom's electric window-defogger."
"What do I get out of it?" Karl wanted to know.
Sean pretended to think about it. "Rough sex?"
'Done," Karl promptly replied, and turned to Billy. "Any last words before I blow your mind?"
Harry leaned in close to Orlando. "What's Billy's thing with Karl, anyway?" he murmured.
"He kissed Lucy Lawless," Orlando replied, just as quietly.
"Ah, right. Makes sense. Well, I hope he's prepared, then." At Orlando's questioning glance, Harry smirked. "Karl's the best kisser I know."
Orlando couldn't say he was surprised that Harry would think that.
When Billy shook his head, looking like his birthday and Christmas had come early, Karl tipped Billy's chin and held it in place so he could start nibbling on Billy's lower lip. Orlando, along with everyone else, watched in fascination as Karl deepened the kiss by slow degrees until he was sucking on Billy's tongue and swallowing the resultant whimper.
Even Orlando, who didn't go for men, was fairly well aroused by the time Karl lifted his head. Billy kept his eyes closed for another minute, a blissful smile on his face. "Jesus on toast, yer a lucky man, Sean," he breathed.
"Actually, Sean and Harry are much better kissers than I am," Karl said, nodding and licking his lips like he was judging some sort of kissing contest.
Billy's eyes popped open. "Now I know you're having me on."
"Harry, are you blushing?" Dom peered closer, and let out a delighted whoop. "You totally are, this is brilliant."
Sure enough, when Orlando turned his head to look, there were telltale bright swatches of color on Harry's cheeks. It was sort of charming. Sean, on the other hand, looked delighted, but not all that fazed, by the compliment. Orlando figured if a man went around claiming he had a god-like tongue, he probably already knew he knew how to use it.
"Before you ask, Billy, neither Harry nor myself are giving you a comparison," Sean said, and shook his head when Billy just pouted. "Are we still playing or what?"
"I love an eager loser," Dave declared, and held up the cards. "Alright, gentlemen, and I use the term loosely, who's in for a little Hold 'Em, Texas style?"
***
Karl and Sean tumbled to the bed together, laughing as they bumped noses when they tried to kiss. "Let's try that again," Sean murmured, still smiling when their lips met. Karl tasted like beer and crisps, sort of sharp and tangy, and Sean found he couldn't get enough.
"Much better," Karl hummed, around another kiss. He started plucking at the hem of Sean's t-shirt, cool air hitting Sean's skin as it was exposed. "Now, don't you owe me something?"
Sean lifted his shoulders so Karl could toss the shirt to the floor, and returned the favor with Karl's shirt. The second Karl's chest was bared to his hungry gaze, his hands itched to roam and explore. "Suppose I do."
Sean had promised Karl rough, but by tacit agreement, the sex wound up slow and languid, with Karl riding Sean's cock, keeping a steady pace, thighs bunching and flexing with each movement. Sean kept his hands on Karl's hips for balance, rose up to meet Karl's lips for kiss after kiss. Karl was bloody gorgeous in the worst of times, but when he was like this - sweat-slick skin, breathless moans, damp strands of hair clinging to his forehead as he braced his hands on either side of Sean's head as a ballast, tight muscles clamping around him like a vise - he was fucking transcendent. Sean was content to lie back, surrender control.
Afterwards, when the sweat was cooling from Sean's body, and Karl was plastered to his side, both of them riding the post-orgasmic lassitude, Sean found himself thinking of Orlando and Harry and how lost they both always managed to look, no matter what was going on with either of them. Odd that so many of his random thoughts these days kept winding back to them. He liked them both, liked Harry's dry sense of humor and the quick wit that Orlando rarely showed to the world, but something about the two of them brought out his more protective instincts.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Hmm? Oh, yeah, alright." Karl pressed a kiss to the crease of Sean's shoulder. "After that, you can ask me anything you like."
Sean chuckled, and pulled Karl in a little closer. One of the things he liked most about Karl, besides his easy-going nature, was that he radiated heat. "What really happened between you and Harry?" Sean stroked the long, lean line of Karl's back, admired the play of muscle under skin, the strength under his hands.
"Nothing, really. No one cheated or anything, none of that drama, if that's what you mean." Karl arched into the touch appreciatively, and nipped at Sean's collarbone. "Just needed some time apart." His voice grew quiet, serious. "I expect we'll get back together when the time's right."
Somehow, the answer didn't amaze Sean in the least. He didn't think he'd ever met two people more destined to be together than Karl and Harry. But, at the same time, he understood that sometimes time apart was needed. "Sounds reasonable."
Karl lifted his head, eyes now full of his usual life and sass. "Don't worry, though, I'll take care of you once I boot you to the curb."
"Oh, will you now?"
"Mmhmm."
Typical Karl. His earlier words to Orlando came back to him - sexiest mother hen in all of New Zealand. "You have anyone in mind? Just so I'm not surprised, you understand?" he asked, trying to maintain a straight face.
Karl looked at him like the answer should be obvious. "Orlando, of course."
"'Lando?" Sean couldn't keep the shock from his voice. Out of everyone Karl could have suggested... "We're not like that. He's not..."
Karl shushed his protest with a quick kiss. "Oh, I think he's more bisexual than he thinks. At the very least, he's curious. And you would be good for him."
"Would I?" Sean wondered how he, of all people, a soon to be thrice-divorced father of three girls, could be good for a man just starting his life and career, but he knew better than to press for details. Karl was direct enough in his own way, but he also knew how to deflect with the best of them.
"Absolutely. Besides," Karl added with a wink, "thinking about you two naked together gets me hot."
That answer, on the other hand, was not surprising at all. "Does it now?"
"Mmhmm." Karl stretched, and shifted until he was lying completely on top of Sean. "Although this isn't bad."
"And this?" Sean slid his hands down, cupped Karl's ass. "Is that better?"
"A little. But I'm still holding out for more of your cock," Karl replied, and dipped his head for a leisurely kiss that still managed to leave Sean wanting more.
He'd mull over Karl's suggestion later. At the moment, he had better things to do.
(To Be Continued)
Author: Brenda (azewewish)
Pairing: Orlando Bloom/Sean Bean (Karl Urban/Sean Bean)
Click here for full disclaimers & notes.
Prologue | Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine | Part Ten | Part Eleven | Part Twelve | Part Thirteen | Part Fourteen | Part Fifteen | Part Sixteen | Part Seventeen | Part Eighteen | Part Nineteen | Part Twenty | Part Twenty-One | Part Twenty-Two | Part Twenty-Three | Part Twenty-Four | Part Twenty-Five | Part Twenty-Six | Part Twenty-Seven (and Epilogue) |
Billy's weekly Garage Sale Poker Game was already enough of a tradition that everyone dropped by at some point during the night, to play a few hands or to nip at Bernard's excellent scotch or, in Dave's case, to fleece anyone stupid enough to bet against him. Miranda'd told Orlando that fleecing people was just in an Aussie's blood. "Sort of how brooding is in the British nature," she'd said at the time, and cackled at her own wit.
Orlando had brooded over her statement for three days before he started to appreciate the irony in it.
The other tradition was to try to either get everyone else at the table drunk enough to make outrageously stupid bets (which always worked with Elijah and never worked with Sean) or to flummox them totally by asking wild and bizarre questions designed to throw them off the game (which always worked with everyone with varying degrees of success, except Viggo, who had weirdness down to an art form), as well as to bet the most outrageous items available (hence the name).
Tonight, Orlando was down thirty pretzels, a bottle of port, a beach towel, and a stuffed parrot. He blamed his lack of concentration on too little sleep - between bad dates, long hours on set, and the brutal hell of filming the Mines of Moria sequence, he was fucking exhausted most days, and tonight was no exception. By all rights, he should be home watching reruns of 'Shortland Street' so he could give Karl and Craig hell for it later, but staying home held little appeal. Even if he was losing his proverbial shirt.
Still. He had to earn some of his winnings back or he'd be forced to bet his Hercules: The Legendary Journeys coffee mug that he'd won off of Karl the week before, and there was no way he was giving that up. He'd already lost his prized blue-sequined cowboy hat his best mate had given him as a going away gift as it was. Oddly, the hat looked fantastic on Karl. Then again, Karl made the ridiculous seem perfectly ordinary. Which went a long way towards explaining why he got on so well with Viggo.
Which reminded him, he had to ask if either of them was responsible for the stuffed ducks that had been found in Richard Taylor's office the other morning. Whole room was full of the damn things, looked like a taxidermy gone mad. Seemed slightly tame by their standards, but he couldn't think of anyone else that could have stolen in with however many ducks it was and then gotten into Richard's office. He was continually in awe of their breaking and entering prowess.
"Stop concentrating so hard, Orli, you know you're not going to win this hand," Dave said, grinning around his cards. In contrast to Orlando's pitiful pile, Dave had already won two bags of crisps, a teddy bear, a Buddy Christ day-glo figure of some sort, a bright red knitted scarf, a truly hideous pair of board shorts, and a beaded manpurse that, for some reason, Billy'd had in his possession. Man was a bloody card shark, complete with fins.
"I might."
"I hate to break it to you, mate, but while you might be a whiz at chess, you're crap at poker," Dom said, patting Orlando on the shoulder. "Best to admit defeat now."
"Bugger off, you're a worse player than I am."
"He does have you there," Sean laughed, around the wreath of smoke created by his cigarette. Made him look a little like a sexy religious figure. Then again, Sean could afford to laugh. He had a bloody good stockpile going on himself.
"So." Orlando looked back and forth between Sean and Karl with a waggle of his brows. He pointedly ignored his pitiful hand (and damn Dave, anyway, and all redheads while he was at it). He was definitely going to have to bet the Arthur Dent alarm clock as it was. Time for a little misdirection. "How's paradise in the old love shack?"
Dom perked up and put down his cards, which was a small triumph in itself. "Oooh, can we hear naughty details?"
"Do we have to hear the kissing parts?" Dave mock groaned.
"Someday you might not mind so much," Karl continued, in his best grandfatherly voice.
Randomly quoting 'The Princess Bride' had, for some inexplicable reason (although Orlando really blamed Elijah for that, since he was forever chatting the film up like it was somehow better than Monty Python and the Holy Grail for Best Film Ever), already become a poker night tradition.
"We're alright," Sean said. Orlando's gaze dropped in time to see Sean's free hand sweep across Karl's thigh in a gentle, possessive glide. He vaguely remembered proprietary touches, and how nice it had felt to give and receive them. Jemma, in particular, had been fond of Orlando's hand on the small of her back. It had been so long since he'd been that comfortable around anyone that wasn't a mate.
"It's been a great ride so far," Karl added, then chuckled when Billy leered in a friendly manner. "You need to get out more, mate, if that rocks your world."
"Whenever you're ready for a real man, instead of that one, just let me know," Billy said, and tossed two cards down on the table.
"He'd break you," Dom pointed out.
"Could be worth it."
Sean's sly grin filled the dark corners of the room with the promise of sin as he exhaled a stream of smoke. "Oh, I'd say Karl's definitely worth it."
"Compliments will definitely get you laid later," Karl said. His smirk could've put James Bond's to shame.
"Tell me, is there anything that Sean does that won't get him laid later?" Billy asked, fluttering his eyelashes outrageously. Only Billy could get away with making that look not completely ridiculous.
"Not really." Karl dropped an affectionate kiss to the top of Sean's head when he stood. "Hitting the head. Anyone else want another beer while I'm up?"
Dom, Dave, and Billy held up their hands. "Me too, ta," Orlando said, and then knocked his knuckles on the table to call for another card. May as well get back to the game, since distraction didn’t seem to be working. And if he kept watching Sean, he'd just steal one of his fags. He'd been trying to cut down on smoking lately to keep pace with Viggo during the running scenes, which shouldn't have been so difficult, considering how much pot Viggo smoked, but maybe pot smoke was different than cigarette smoke or something, who knew. All he did know was staring at Sean made him crave a smoke in the worst way.
"You and Karl really are the cutest couple on set," Dom remarked to Sean.
"No one else would put up with them," Dave said, and tossed in a bizarre-looking amoeba-like thingy that lit up when one squeezed it into the pot. Orlando had no idea where his friends got the crap they did.
Billy's eyes twinkled. "Aye, at least they've each other."
"And that's a lot. For love," Orlando chimed in, knowing exactly where Billy was going with this.
"We'll give it a shot," Dom continued, in a perfectly straight voice. In unison, the four of them looked at each other, then Sean, and started singing.
"Oooooooooh, we're halfway theeeere... OoooOoooh, we're living on a pray-er..."
Karl, who'd just come back from the kitchen, beers in tow, almost doubled over laughing before he joined in the impromptu Bon Jovi karaoke, even providing a little Richie Sambora hip-wiggle. Sean just looked on and smiled the sort of bemused smile that he sometimes got when he had no idea what was going on. It was a look that he normally reserved for Viggo.
Harry waltzed in the back door just as the song was coming to its crescendo. He stopped short, taking in the scene with a benign look and held up the two bottles of scotch he'd brought in with him. "I take it we won't be needing these."
"Harry!" Orlando exclaimed, beaming at him with what he was sure was a mega-watt smile. He hadn't seen Harry in awhile, and was just thinking he'd missed the mad coot. "Just what the party needed."
"Right diamond geezer you are, too, to provide such luscious libations," Billy added.
Harry dropped into the empty chair on Karl's other side. "Can you translate that? I don't speak Crazy Scots."
Karl patted Harry's hand absentmindedly. "I think he's happy you're wanting you to share."
"Why I brought it."
"You playing tonight?" Dave wanted to know, holding up the deck of cards.
Harry shook his head. "Just here for the company. And to help Orlando cheat."
"Oi, I do not cheat." And, to think he'd been happy to see Harry, too.
"The hell you don't," Dave retorted. He shuffled the remaining cards like a pro and started dealing the next cards. "Remember last week when you tried to bet a date with your sister?"
And had been a rather brilliant diversionary tactic at the time, if Orlando did say so himself. "It's not like I bet on her virginity or anything."
"Yes, but the point is, you can only bet what's at the table," Billy explained, carefully enunciating each word like Orlando was a toddler. He was beginning to feel like Elijah with Tig. Half the time, he was convinced they made up half the rules on poker nights as they went along, sort of like how they played Hobbit Golf.
"I think it's fine if you bet your sister," Karl said, and gave Orlando the fist pump of solidarity.
"This from the man who wouldn't bet a kiss with Sean, who is at the table," Dom replied.
"Maybe my lips are more valuable than Samantha's," Sean grinned.
"Well, Dom, you could always bet Orlando to make it even," Harry suggested.
"Wait, what?!"
"Excellent." Dom rubbed his hands together and ignored Orlando's bug-eyed stare. "I won't bet my excellent hand if you kiss Billy."
Seriously, what was wrong with his friends and their mental health? "What???"
"Go on, then." Dom waved a hand regally while Dave choked on his own laughter and Billy, Harry, Sean, and Karl watched the exchange like it was Wimbledon. "Your tongue has touched Sean's, and Sean's tongue has touched Karl's, so if you kiss Billy, it'll be like he finally gets to touch tongues with Karl. And I'm all for making Bills happy."
Everyone at the table gawked at Dom. "That's Viggo-like logic, that is," Billy finally said, with something like awe in his voice.
"Only in English and not in ancient Hindi or whatever Viggo's learning to speak this week," Harry shrugged.
"I am not kissing Billy," Orlando stated, enunciating each word loudly and clearly, just in case anyone started getting ideas. He wouldn't put it past this lot. "Besides, I bet your hand's crap. Worse at poker than me, remember."
"Am not."
"You are, too."
"Children." Sean held up a hand, waited for Dom and Orlando to turn their attention towards him. "Karl, go on, give Billy a little something to tide him over so we can get on with it. I've got my eye on Dom's electric window-defogger."
"What do I get out of it?" Karl wanted to know.
Sean pretended to think about it. "Rough sex?"
'Done," Karl promptly replied, and turned to Billy. "Any last words before I blow your mind?"
Harry leaned in close to Orlando. "What's Billy's thing with Karl, anyway?" he murmured.
"He kissed Lucy Lawless," Orlando replied, just as quietly.
"Ah, right. Makes sense. Well, I hope he's prepared, then." At Orlando's questioning glance, Harry smirked. "Karl's the best kisser I know."
Orlando couldn't say he was surprised that Harry would think that.
When Billy shook his head, looking like his birthday and Christmas had come early, Karl tipped Billy's chin and held it in place so he could start nibbling on Billy's lower lip. Orlando, along with everyone else, watched in fascination as Karl deepened the kiss by slow degrees until he was sucking on Billy's tongue and swallowing the resultant whimper.
Even Orlando, who didn't go for men, was fairly well aroused by the time Karl lifted his head. Billy kept his eyes closed for another minute, a blissful smile on his face. "Jesus on toast, yer a lucky man, Sean," he breathed.
"Actually, Sean and Harry are much better kissers than I am," Karl said, nodding and licking his lips like he was judging some sort of kissing contest.
Billy's eyes popped open. "Now I know you're having me on."
"Harry, are you blushing?" Dom peered closer, and let out a delighted whoop. "You totally are, this is brilliant."
Sure enough, when Orlando turned his head to look, there were telltale bright swatches of color on Harry's cheeks. It was sort of charming. Sean, on the other hand, looked delighted, but not all that fazed, by the compliment. Orlando figured if a man went around claiming he had a god-like tongue, he probably already knew he knew how to use it.
"Before you ask, Billy, neither Harry nor myself are giving you a comparison," Sean said, and shook his head when Billy just pouted. "Are we still playing or what?"
"I love an eager loser," Dave declared, and held up the cards. "Alright, gentlemen, and I use the term loosely, who's in for a little Hold 'Em, Texas style?"
***
Karl and Sean tumbled to the bed together, laughing as they bumped noses when they tried to kiss. "Let's try that again," Sean murmured, still smiling when their lips met. Karl tasted like beer and crisps, sort of sharp and tangy, and Sean found he couldn't get enough.
"Much better," Karl hummed, around another kiss. He started plucking at the hem of Sean's t-shirt, cool air hitting Sean's skin as it was exposed. "Now, don't you owe me something?"
Sean lifted his shoulders so Karl could toss the shirt to the floor, and returned the favor with Karl's shirt. The second Karl's chest was bared to his hungry gaze, his hands itched to roam and explore. "Suppose I do."
Sean had promised Karl rough, but by tacit agreement, the sex wound up slow and languid, with Karl riding Sean's cock, keeping a steady pace, thighs bunching and flexing with each movement. Sean kept his hands on Karl's hips for balance, rose up to meet Karl's lips for kiss after kiss. Karl was bloody gorgeous in the worst of times, but when he was like this - sweat-slick skin, breathless moans, damp strands of hair clinging to his forehead as he braced his hands on either side of Sean's head as a ballast, tight muscles clamping around him like a vise - he was fucking transcendent. Sean was content to lie back, surrender control.
Afterwards, when the sweat was cooling from Sean's body, and Karl was plastered to his side, both of them riding the post-orgasmic lassitude, Sean found himself thinking of Orlando and Harry and how lost they both always managed to look, no matter what was going on with either of them. Odd that so many of his random thoughts these days kept winding back to them. He liked them both, liked Harry's dry sense of humor and the quick wit that Orlando rarely showed to the world, but something about the two of them brought out his more protective instincts.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Hmm? Oh, yeah, alright." Karl pressed a kiss to the crease of Sean's shoulder. "After that, you can ask me anything you like."
Sean chuckled, and pulled Karl in a little closer. One of the things he liked most about Karl, besides his easy-going nature, was that he radiated heat. "What really happened between you and Harry?" Sean stroked the long, lean line of Karl's back, admired the play of muscle under skin, the strength under his hands.
"Nothing, really. No one cheated or anything, none of that drama, if that's what you mean." Karl arched into the touch appreciatively, and nipped at Sean's collarbone. "Just needed some time apart." His voice grew quiet, serious. "I expect we'll get back together when the time's right."
Somehow, the answer didn't amaze Sean in the least. He didn't think he'd ever met two people more destined to be together than Karl and Harry. But, at the same time, he understood that sometimes time apart was needed. "Sounds reasonable."
Karl lifted his head, eyes now full of his usual life and sass. "Don't worry, though, I'll take care of you once I boot you to the curb."
"Oh, will you now?"
"Mmhmm."
Typical Karl. His earlier words to Orlando came back to him - sexiest mother hen in all of New Zealand. "You have anyone in mind? Just so I'm not surprised, you understand?" he asked, trying to maintain a straight face.
Karl looked at him like the answer should be obvious. "Orlando, of course."
"'Lando?" Sean couldn't keep the shock from his voice. Out of everyone Karl could have suggested... "We're not like that. He's not..."
Karl shushed his protest with a quick kiss. "Oh, I think he's more bisexual than he thinks. At the very least, he's curious. And you would be good for him."
"Would I?" Sean wondered how he, of all people, a soon to be thrice-divorced father of three girls, could be good for a man just starting his life and career, but he knew better than to press for details. Karl was direct enough in his own way, but he also knew how to deflect with the best of them.
"Absolutely. Besides," Karl added with a wink, "thinking about you two naked together gets me hot."
That answer, on the other hand, was not surprising at all. "Does it now?"
"Mmhmm." Karl stretched, and shifted until he was lying completely on top of Sean. "Although this isn't bad."
"And this?" Sean slid his hands down, cupped Karl's ass. "Is that better?"
"A little. But I'm still holding out for more of your cock," Karl replied, and dipped his head for a leisurely kiss that still managed to leave Sean wanting more.
He'd mull over Karl's suggestion later. At the moment, he had better things to do.
(To Be Continued)