FIC: "Temporary Monogamy" (Part Thirteen) (Orlando Bloom/Sean Bean, Karl Urban/Sean Bean)
Title: "Temporary Monogamy" (13/27)
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) |
It took a little while for Orlando to look Sean in the eyes again. Ridiculous, really, wasn't like it was the first time he'd ever caught any of his friends in a so-called compromising position. In fact, there was the one time at some party or another when he'd walked in on Sebastian getting a hummer from some tramped-up blonde that still gave him nightmares (he never, ever, ever needed to ever see that much of his cousin's bits and bobs, ever again), so, honestly, two men making out on a sofa - fully clothed, mind - wasn't all that bad. Y'know, all things considered.
He's really not quite sure how he would have reacted had he walked in on Sean with a mouthful of Karl's cock. In fact, just thinking about it made him feel a little queasy.
It wasn't that he was homophobic - far from it. Dom was a prat, even in the best of times, but his point about birds and blokes and plumbing were true. Love was love; the rest was detail. He was happy that Karl and Sean had such a great relationship. Still, though, something about walking in on two of his best friends having such a clearly intimate moment... Well, it felt weird. Odd. And not because they were blokes, but because they were...well, like family, like brothers, to him. Almost. Sort of. Alright, Karl more than Sean on the whole fraternal bond thing, but he loved Sean like a brother. Close friend. Something.
The point was, he felt like he'd witnessed something very private. Like he'd violated it somehow by his mere presence. Which was silly. Wasn't it?
He wasn't exactly sure what to do with these feelings. It was easier to bottle it, bury them deep so they wouldn't bother him, even though that sort of behavior went against the grain of his expectations as an actor and a young man 'trying to find himself' or whatever the sociologists and whatnot were calling it. Add to it, of course, that the three people he'd have normally gone to for advice - namely Karl, Sean and Harry - were the exact people he was trying not to think about. Which complicated things even more, and the last fucking thing he needed in his life was more complication. He already had more than his quota, thank you very much.
Of course, it greatly helped on the whole soul-searching front (or not soul-searching, as the case may be) that Sean, to his credit, never mentioned it or even acted like he knew that Orlando was treating him different. Orlando wondered if Sean was just used to people acting odd around him at times or to the general craziness surrounding him wherever he went by now. Either way, Orlando was glad when things went back to normal, when he shook himself off and got over whatever bizarre mental fog he'd been in, especially as he'd missed their chess matches during his self-imposed exile.
No one could match Sean's skill when it came to the board.
***
After his swing, Billy took a step back and admired the results as the ball carried through the crisp air onto the green. "Now that, gentlemen, is a thing of beauty," he announced.
"It's only because you're Scottish," Elijah grumbled. It was a constant surprise to Orlando at how young Elijah really was, considering that he was constantly nattering on and whinging like his granddad. The checkered cardigan Elijah was wearing today only completed the image. Then again, at least Lij looked like he belonged somewhere near a golf course. Unlike Dom, with his brightly patterned rude boy shorts and fuchsia t-shirt that proclaimed "My Other Shirt Is On Your Girlfriend".
He had no idea where Dom went shopping, and was just as glad about it.
"Right you are, lad." Billy threw an arm around Elijah's shoulders. "I keep telling you to dig deep, find your inner Scots, but, no, you don't listen. And see what happens."
"You can't give him lessons mid-game, that's cheating," Dom pointed out, with a gleeful smirk. "Drink."
Hobbit Golf. Where the game fluctuated wildly, depending on Dom's moods and interpretation of the rules they'd all set up back in the early days of rehearsals. And, of course, whether anyone felt like even following them. Considering the week they'd had, 16-hour days of running, fighting, more running, and more fighting, no one was objecting to being told to drink more.
"Maybe if he gets drunk enough, he'll finally make a move on Miranda," Elijah joked, dancing out of the way of Billy's half-hearted attempt to tickle him.
"I'm content to worship her from afar," Billy stated, serenely. "Anyhoo, I'm still holding out for that hot threesome with Karl. Especially after that kiss." He fanned himself, as if somehow everyone who'd been there would have forgotten about it and needed to be reminded.
"You're an utter slut, you do realize that, yeah?" Orlando said and stepped up to the tee. He was absolutely horrific at golf. (His coordination had always been a questionable thing - his mother mentioned more than once that was the reason she'd gone grey so early in life.) But, of late, Sean had been giving him pointers on how to improve his swing so he wouldn't continue to embarrass himself worse than usual, as Sean put it, off-setting the insult with one of those blinding grins that made it impossible for Orlando to do anything other than smile back. Even getting the piss taken out of him was alright when it was Sean.
"You've been holding out!" Dom exclaimed, when Orlando's ball sailed through the air and landed just short of the green. Orlando was rather proud of himself, if he said so. He couldn't wait to tell Sean about it. "You've been out on the course on non-golf days, haven't you?"
"I haven't. Honest," Orlando added, at Dom's look. "You have serious trust issues, mate. You should see someone about that."
"Cheating bastard, I know you're getting help. Drink."
"Let me guess." Billy grinned, eyes twinkling like a naughty leprechaun. "Has Sean -" his voice was a high falsetto "- been giving you pointers after hours?"
"Maybe the odd hint or two," Orlando admitted, and Dom stomped over to the tee, snorting his disapproval.
"Seriously, you two are worse than a couple of birds, with all of your cooing back and forth."
"You're just jealous because Viggo never gives you advice."
"Why the fuck would anyone go to Viggo? He gives fucking horrible advice," Elijah piped up. "Half the time, I have no idea what he's even saying."
"Half the time, he's not even speaking English," Billy added.
They all grabbed their clubs and started across the course to the green. "Sean says he does the same thing when he's at the house, making all the odd non-sequiter leaps of logic and whatnot, and going off on those bizarre tangents half in Spanish or Danish or whatever language," Orlando said. "Said it drives him mental."
"It's a wonder Sean hasn't killed him yet," Elijah stated. How long's he stuck with Viggo bunking with him again?"
"Another week or two, I think," Orlando replied. "Until they're done repairing Viggo's kitchen." Of course, it was Viggo's fault that it had almost gone up in flames, and he was pretty sure that Sean was never going to let Viggo forget it, either. Honestly, who left a casserole in the oven to go create a paper-mâché of their penis?
Dom gave Orlando a gentle nudge. "You should ask Sean to move into your guest room in the meantime. Got to be better than getting stuck with Viggo and the house smelling of turpentine and pot."
"Fuck no," Orlando shuddered, with feeling. "Last thing I need is to be woken in the middle of the night by Sean and Karl squeaking the mattress. Besides, if Sean was having that rough of a go of it, he could just stay with Karl." In fact, he was pretty sure that's where Sean was spending most of his time these days, not that he blamed Sean in the slightest. Even though he really did miss having Sean almost at arms' length. He had a feeling he'd be just as happy as Sean when things went back to normal and Viggo was out from underfoot.
"Anyone caught Karl and Sean having sex yet?" Elijah asked. He shaded his eyes to see the hole, then putted, missing wildly.
"Saw them going at it pretty hot and heavy one night at Liv's," Billy answered. His putt was perfect, of course. "I think they might've been jerking each other off, too, but that might've been the shadows."
"I caught them coming out of Ian's guest room one night, looking all disheveled and freshly fucked," Dom confessed. His sigh was one of lustful appreciation. "It was pretty hot."
Billy waggled his brows at Orlando. "How about you, then? You're at Sean's and Karl's all the time, you're bound to have seen something naughty."
"Not a thing beyond the usual hand-holding and such," Orlando promptly lied, and hid his blush by bending to set up his putt. "Maybe they're more discreet around me."
He had no idea why he was reluctant to talk about that morning in the trailer.
***
Karl stretched lazily on the bed, lassitude seeping into his bones, and lifted his head just enough to give Sean a slow, soft kiss. He may not move for a month. "I swear, you keep getting better."
"Excellent practice," Sean grinned, and snuggled close, fingers dancing along Karl's sternum.
"I'll say," Karl agreed, and gave Sean a sly smile. He'd found early on that the best time to talk to Sean about anything remotely sensitive was just after sex, and since he'd been dying of curiosity for the past few days... "So...Viggo tells me you two talked about the possibility of you and Orlando."
"As much as one can talk to Viggo," Sean replied with a long-suffering sigh, and bit down lightly on Karl's shoulder.
He squirmed, determined not to be distracted, even if Sean was naked and pressing him into the mattress. This was important. "And?" he managed, proud of his ability to remain coherent in the face of Sean's playfulness. "What'd he say?"
Sean threw his leg over Karl's, neatly trapping him. "And Viggo, the crazy fuck, seems to agree with you."
Karl smiled inwardly. Viggo may be a nutter, but he was remarkably observant. "Smart man, Viggo," he said, and shifted even closer.
Sean propped his head up on his hand, and stared down at Karl. "You sick of me already? Is that what this is?"
Which was a very silly question, and one that didn't deserve an answer, even though Karl gave him one, anyway. "Don't be ridiculous. Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately?"
"Good," Sean replied, and bent to give Karl a kiss that all but melted what was left of his brain.
Karl smiled, cupped Sean's grizzled jaw. He really would miss this part of their relationship when they went back to being just friends. Fantastic, earth-shattering sex was a rare thing in this world, especially when coupled with a genuine affection for one's partner. "But the day will come."
Sean nodded, as if the answer was one he'd expected. They both knew this wasn't forever. "Long as it's not tonight."
"Absolutely not," Karl said, vehemently. Sean was naked and in his bed and already half-hard again, and Karl was definitely not a stupid man. "Not until we've properly broken in the fuzzy cuffs, at any rate."
"The what?"
Karl had to laugh at the horrified expression on Sean's face. Oh yes, he was going to suit Orlando just fine when they got around to recognizing what was right in front of them. "I'm kidding, love. Who needs those sort of trappings with a playground like this?" he asked, running a hand along Sean's chest.
"Good," Sean growled, and rolled over completely on top of Karl. "And we're done talking, by the way."
And honestly, when Sean put it like that, who the hell was Karl to argue?
(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) |
It took a little while for Orlando to look Sean in the eyes again. Ridiculous, really, wasn't like it was the first time he'd ever caught any of his friends in a so-called compromising position. In fact, there was the one time at some party or another when he'd walked in on Sebastian getting a hummer from some tramped-up blonde that still gave him nightmares (he never, ever, ever needed to ever see that much of his cousin's bits and bobs, ever again), so, honestly, two men making out on a sofa - fully clothed, mind - wasn't all that bad. Y'know, all things considered.
He's really not quite sure how he would have reacted had he walked in on Sean with a mouthful of Karl's cock. In fact, just thinking about it made him feel a little queasy.
It wasn't that he was homophobic - far from it. Dom was a prat, even in the best of times, but his point about birds and blokes and plumbing were true. Love was love; the rest was detail. He was happy that Karl and Sean had such a great relationship. Still, though, something about walking in on two of his best friends having such a clearly intimate moment... Well, it felt weird. Odd. And not because they were blokes, but because they were...well, like family, like brothers, to him. Almost. Sort of. Alright, Karl more than Sean on the whole fraternal bond thing, but he loved Sean like a brother. Close friend. Something.
The point was, he felt like he'd witnessed something very private. Like he'd violated it somehow by his mere presence. Which was silly. Wasn't it?
He wasn't exactly sure what to do with these feelings. It was easier to bottle it, bury them deep so they wouldn't bother him, even though that sort of behavior went against the grain of his expectations as an actor and a young man 'trying to find himself' or whatever the sociologists and whatnot were calling it. Add to it, of course, that the three people he'd have normally gone to for advice - namely Karl, Sean and Harry - were the exact people he was trying not to think about. Which complicated things even more, and the last fucking thing he needed in his life was more complication. He already had more than his quota, thank you very much.
Of course, it greatly helped on the whole soul-searching front (or not soul-searching, as the case may be) that Sean, to his credit, never mentioned it or even acted like he knew that Orlando was treating him different. Orlando wondered if Sean was just used to people acting odd around him at times or to the general craziness surrounding him wherever he went by now. Either way, Orlando was glad when things went back to normal, when he shook himself off and got over whatever bizarre mental fog he'd been in, especially as he'd missed their chess matches during his self-imposed exile.
No one could match Sean's skill when it came to the board.
***
After his swing, Billy took a step back and admired the results as the ball carried through the crisp air onto the green. "Now that, gentlemen, is a thing of beauty," he announced.
"It's only because you're Scottish," Elijah grumbled. It was a constant surprise to Orlando at how young Elijah really was, considering that he was constantly nattering on and whinging like his granddad. The checkered cardigan Elijah was wearing today only completed the image. Then again, at least Lij looked like he belonged somewhere near a golf course. Unlike Dom, with his brightly patterned rude boy shorts and fuchsia t-shirt that proclaimed "My Other Shirt Is On Your Girlfriend".
He had no idea where Dom went shopping, and was just as glad about it.
"Right you are, lad." Billy threw an arm around Elijah's shoulders. "I keep telling you to dig deep, find your inner Scots, but, no, you don't listen. And see what happens."
"You can't give him lessons mid-game, that's cheating," Dom pointed out, with a gleeful smirk. "Drink."
Hobbit Golf. Where the game fluctuated wildly, depending on Dom's moods and interpretation of the rules they'd all set up back in the early days of rehearsals. And, of course, whether anyone felt like even following them. Considering the week they'd had, 16-hour days of running, fighting, more running, and more fighting, no one was objecting to being told to drink more.
"Maybe if he gets drunk enough, he'll finally make a move on Miranda," Elijah joked, dancing out of the way of Billy's half-hearted attempt to tickle him.
"I'm content to worship her from afar," Billy stated, serenely. "Anyhoo, I'm still holding out for that hot threesome with Karl. Especially after that kiss." He fanned himself, as if somehow everyone who'd been there would have forgotten about it and needed to be reminded.
"You're an utter slut, you do realize that, yeah?" Orlando said and stepped up to the tee. He was absolutely horrific at golf. (His coordination had always been a questionable thing - his mother mentioned more than once that was the reason she'd gone grey so early in life.) But, of late, Sean had been giving him pointers on how to improve his swing so he wouldn't continue to embarrass himself worse than usual, as Sean put it, off-setting the insult with one of those blinding grins that made it impossible for Orlando to do anything other than smile back. Even getting the piss taken out of him was alright when it was Sean.
"You've been holding out!" Dom exclaimed, when Orlando's ball sailed through the air and landed just short of the green. Orlando was rather proud of himself, if he said so. He couldn't wait to tell Sean about it. "You've been out on the course on non-golf days, haven't you?"
"I haven't. Honest," Orlando added, at Dom's look. "You have serious trust issues, mate. You should see someone about that."
"Cheating bastard, I know you're getting help. Drink."
"Let me guess." Billy grinned, eyes twinkling like a naughty leprechaun. "Has Sean -" his voice was a high falsetto "- been giving you pointers after hours?"
"Maybe the odd hint or two," Orlando admitted, and Dom stomped over to the tee, snorting his disapproval.
"Seriously, you two are worse than a couple of birds, with all of your cooing back and forth."
"You're just jealous because Viggo never gives you advice."
"Why the fuck would anyone go to Viggo? He gives fucking horrible advice," Elijah piped up. "Half the time, I have no idea what he's even saying."
"Half the time, he's not even speaking English," Billy added.
They all grabbed their clubs and started across the course to the green. "Sean says he does the same thing when he's at the house, making all the odd non-sequiter leaps of logic and whatnot, and going off on those bizarre tangents half in Spanish or Danish or whatever language," Orlando said. "Said it drives him mental."
"It's a wonder Sean hasn't killed him yet," Elijah stated. How long's he stuck with Viggo bunking with him again?"
"Another week or two, I think," Orlando replied. "Until they're done repairing Viggo's kitchen." Of course, it was Viggo's fault that it had almost gone up in flames, and he was pretty sure that Sean was never going to let Viggo forget it, either. Honestly, who left a casserole in the oven to go create a paper-mâché of their penis?
Dom gave Orlando a gentle nudge. "You should ask Sean to move into your guest room in the meantime. Got to be better than getting stuck with Viggo and the house smelling of turpentine and pot."
"Fuck no," Orlando shuddered, with feeling. "Last thing I need is to be woken in the middle of the night by Sean and Karl squeaking the mattress. Besides, if Sean was having that rough of a go of it, he could just stay with Karl." In fact, he was pretty sure that's where Sean was spending most of his time these days, not that he blamed Sean in the slightest. Even though he really did miss having Sean almost at arms' length. He had a feeling he'd be just as happy as Sean when things went back to normal and Viggo was out from underfoot.
"Anyone caught Karl and Sean having sex yet?" Elijah asked. He shaded his eyes to see the hole, then putted, missing wildly.
"Saw them going at it pretty hot and heavy one night at Liv's," Billy answered. His putt was perfect, of course. "I think they might've been jerking each other off, too, but that might've been the shadows."
"I caught them coming out of Ian's guest room one night, looking all disheveled and freshly fucked," Dom confessed. His sigh was one of lustful appreciation. "It was pretty hot."
Billy waggled his brows at Orlando. "How about you, then? You're at Sean's and Karl's all the time, you're bound to have seen something naughty."
"Not a thing beyond the usual hand-holding and such," Orlando promptly lied, and hid his blush by bending to set up his putt. "Maybe they're more discreet around me."
He had no idea why he was reluctant to talk about that morning in the trailer.
***
Karl stretched lazily on the bed, lassitude seeping into his bones, and lifted his head just enough to give Sean a slow, soft kiss. He may not move for a month. "I swear, you keep getting better."
"Excellent practice," Sean grinned, and snuggled close, fingers dancing along Karl's sternum.
"I'll say," Karl agreed, and gave Sean a sly smile. He'd found early on that the best time to talk to Sean about anything remotely sensitive was just after sex, and since he'd been dying of curiosity for the past few days... "So...Viggo tells me you two talked about the possibility of you and Orlando."
"As much as one can talk to Viggo," Sean replied with a long-suffering sigh, and bit down lightly on Karl's shoulder.
He squirmed, determined not to be distracted, even if Sean was naked and pressing him into the mattress. This was important. "And?" he managed, proud of his ability to remain coherent in the face of Sean's playfulness. "What'd he say?"
Sean threw his leg over Karl's, neatly trapping him. "And Viggo, the crazy fuck, seems to agree with you."
Karl smiled inwardly. Viggo may be a nutter, but he was remarkably observant. "Smart man, Viggo," he said, and shifted even closer.
Sean propped his head up on his hand, and stared down at Karl. "You sick of me already? Is that what this is?"
Which was a very silly question, and one that didn't deserve an answer, even though Karl gave him one, anyway. "Don't be ridiculous. Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately?"
"Good," Sean replied, and bent to give Karl a kiss that all but melted what was left of his brain.
Karl smiled, cupped Sean's grizzled jaw. He really would miss this part of their relationship when they went back to being just friends. Fantastic, earth-shattering sex was a rare thing in this world, especially when coupled with a genuine affection for one's partner. "But the day will come."
Sean nodded, as if the answer was one he'd expected. They both knew this wasn't forever. "Long as it's not tonight."
"Absolutely not," Karl said, vehemently. Sean was naked and in his bed and already half-hard again, and Karl was definitely not a stupid man. "Not until we've properly broken in the fuzzy cuffs, at any rate."
"The what?"
Karl had to laugh at the horrified expression on Sean's face. Oh yes, he was going to suit Orlando just fine when they got around to recognizing what was right in front of them. "I'm kidding, love. Who needs those sort of trappings with a playground like this?" he asked, running a hand along Sean's chest.
"Good," Sean growled, and rolled over completely on top of Karl. "And we're done talking, by the way."
And honestly, when Sean put it like that, who the hell was Karl to argue?
(To Be Continued)