FIC: Catalyst (part 2) (Harry Sinclair, Karl Urban, Orlando Bloom, Dave Wenham)
Title: "Catalyst" (Part Two)
Authors: Brenda (azewewish) & Jo (idiosyncratic)
Series: Claimed Universe
Notes: Click here for full disclaimers and pairings.
Part One
Orlando pulled a shirt out of the closet, not bothering to look to see which one it was. Not like it mattered. Turning, he ran right into the brick wall that was Harry's chest, and inwardly cursed. Damn it, how could someone so big move without making a sound? Stepping back, Orlando raked fingers through his hair and tried to regain a little composure. "Um, I'd ask how pissed he is, but..."
"Let's just say I don't think he'll be back tonight," Harry said, and peeled his shirt off of his head.
"Are you...?" Orlando stepped closer, wiped at the drying blood on Harry's mouth. "He hit you."
"It's nothing. He's done much worse." Harry unzipped his jeans, tossing them into a corner, and started walking towards the bathroom. "But it's the last time I'm stepping in for you."
It was on the tip of Orlando's tongue to point out that he hadn't asked Harry to step in for him in the first place. He swallowed the words, following Harry as far as the door. "Harry," he said, softly, eyes on the set of Harry's shoulders, "I'm sorry. I should have told him, I know..."
Harry didn't say a word, didn't move a muscle. Orlando dropped his gaze, shoved his hands deep into his pockets. "I was wrong to ask you to keep it from him, and I know an apology isn't going to mean much right now. I just...fuck. Maybe I should just go."
"I'm sure Jake would be happy to see you," Harry replied, and turned. When Orlando looked up, it was to find Harry staring calmly back at him. "Why didn't you tell him?"
Good question. "I...I didn't know how."
"You can't possibly think he'd have been jealous."
"No," Orlando said, and meant it. He learned a long time ago that jealousy just wasn't something Karl did. That any vampire did, to be honest, which was something he was still trying to get used to. "It's just that it went on so long, I didn't know how to tell him without it turning it exactly what it turned into."
"Is that all?"
Of course that wasn't all, and Orlando knew Harry knew it. "I...was afraid he'd want to meet Jake and, well..."
"That Jake would rather be with Karl than you," Harry guessed, and Orlando could only nod, ashamed of his own insecurities.
"Pathetic, huh?"
"A little," Harry replied, and chuckled when Orlando glared at him. "You're hardly a platypus, child."
"Do what?"
"A platypus," Harry repeated, stepping forward. A moment later, warm, callused fingers drifted across his neck and shoulder. "Ugliest creature put on the face of the earth. Which you definitely are not."
"I know, it's just..." His eyes drifted shut. Vaguely, he wondered if there would ever be a time when Harry's touch wouldn't undo him.
"He's Karl," Harry finished, softly.
"Exactly." Orlando fought against leaning in to that light touch even as he reached through the bond to reassure himself of Harry's love. Weak, yes, but he needed it. "Just scared he'd take over," he whispered, finally giving in enough to turn his head and nuzzle Harry's palm. "He can be overwhelming at times, y'know?"
"I do." Soft lips brushed across his forehead. "But Karl had a point. I'm not exactly the meekest of men."
A snort of laughter escaped before Orlando could stifle it. "No shit."
"And yet you trusted me."
"Because you wouldn't do it." Orlando believed the words, knew without a doubt that they were true. And that, he realized, was the difference.
"Take over, you mean?"
Orlando nodded, lifted his head to meet Harry's gaze. "Even without intending to."
"Orlando." Harry's voice was soft, almost paternal. "You're going to have to trust him at some point or the bond you have means nothing and you're going to lose him."
"I do trust him!"
"With your life, yes. But not your secrets."
The words sent Orlando reeling. He trusted Karl with his secrets. Most of them. Didn't he? He opened his mouth, closed it. "I..."
Harry just nodded. "You trust me, but not him. What does that tell you?"
"That I think we got it all backwards," Orlando finally said, small, wry smile twisting his lips.
"Now you sound like Viggo." Harry brushed another kiss to Orlando's forehead. "Tell Jake you'll be a little late. I could use some help scrubbing my back."
Orlando was smart enough to understand what Harry was really saying - we're not done talking. Mutely, he nodded, and started pulling off clothes while Harry started the shower. For once, the sight of Harry bending over didn't immediately send his thoughts into x-rated territory.
That fact didn't prevent him teasing Harry, mind. "I think you just want me naked and wet."
"And your point is...?"
Orlando laughed softly. He paused a moment, reached out mentally to let Jake know he might not make it tonight and he'd explain later, and then kicked his track pants aside. "I meant it. We really did get it backwards," he said, stepping into the shower. "I should have been your pet first."
"Karl and I have been saying that for quite some time now."
"You have?"
"Yep." Harry reached for the soap. "Karl loves you, you know this. But I don't think either of you truly understands the other."
Orlando took the soap from Harry and gave him a perplexed look. "And you think I understand you better? You still scare the fuck out of me."
"That just means you're smarter than you look."
Orlando shoved Harry under the spray. //Bastard.//
//You flatter me.//
"Conceited bastard," Orlando corrected, sliding soapy hands up Harry's spine.
"I love you, too," Harry laughed, the sound a pulse that reverberated throughout Orlando's body.
"I do sort of see what you mean, though." Orlando knelt, taking his time as he ran the soap along the backs of powerful thighs and calves. "You do scare me, but I've never had the feeling that I don't know you."
Harry braced himself against the tiles, muscles flexing as he stretched into Orlando's touch. "Give him time. But you have to start with him somewhere."
"What do you suggest?" Before Harry could say anything, he shook his head, already knowing what the objection would be. "I'm not asking you to tell me what to do. I'm asking for advice. You've known him far longer than I have and...I'm afraid I've fucked this one up beyond repair."
"Nothing is beyond repair." Smiling at Orlando's frown, Harry dragged Orlando back to his feet, wrapped him in a strong embrace. "But this isn't going to be something that's fixed with one of your smiles and a lap wiggle."
"I do not lap wiggle!" When Harry just arched an eyebrow, Orlando conceded, "Well, not so much anymore. But I get the point."
"You need to talk to him. Tell him about Jake, for starters, see where it goes from there. Karl and I never lived in each other's pockets, but we've always trusted each other."
"Provided he's ever going to talk to me again," Orlando mumbled, feeling properly chastised.
"He will. But you're doing this alone."
"I know." And he did, even though he wasn't too thrilled about the idea of facing Karl without backup. "Be nice if you were there, though."
"And if I was," Harry replied, hands settling on Orlando's shoulders and pushing him away enough that Harry could look into his eyes, "we both know I'd end up doing most of the talking. You need to be the one to do this."
Orlando nodded, wondered if he looked quite as miserable as he felt. "What if...?" He stopped, swallowed, peered up at Harry. "What if he's still pissed?"
"He has every right to his anger."
"And if he takes a swing at me?" It wasn't something that had ever happened, but Orlando had the feeling it just might this time.
"Swing back."
"What?!"
"Swing back," Harry repeated, in the sort of no-nonsense tone that Orlando knew meant business. "Sometimes a good fight can be pretty cathartic."
"I've never fought anyone, though. I mean, not like that," Orlando amended.
Harry lifted one of Orlando's hands, and gently closed it into a fist. "If he takes a shot, aim low, go for the gut," he instructed. "Your life is different now. I think it's time you really started to embrace that."
Embrace that. Yeah, sure, no problem, he could do that. In his dreams. With a small moan, Orlando dropped his head on Harry's shoulder. "My life was so much less complicated before I met you two."
Gentle fingers ran along his spine. "So was ours," Harry murmured, kissing just above Orlando's ear. "But, as Karl constantly reminds me, sometimes complicated is a good thing."
"Yeah, well, he seems to like complications," Orlando muttered. Swing back. Right. Karl would wipe the floor with him. Which is why Orlando was surprised at the next words out of his mouth. "Any more fighting advice?"
"If the first punch doesn't shock him right out of his anger, just remember to not aim at his head. That'll just piss him off."
"Reckon I'll piss him off either way." This was such a bad idea. "Aim low, go for the gut, avoid his head, got it."
"And watch out for the fangs. He's not above fighting dirty."
"Oh, bloody hell."
(To Be Continued)
Authors: Brenda (azewewish) & Jo (idiosyncratic)
Series: Claimed Universe
Notes: Click here for full disclaimers and pairings.
Part One
Orlando pulled a shirt out of the closet, not bothering to look to see which one it was. Not like it mattered. Turning, he ran right into the brick wall that was Harry's chest, and inwardly cursed. Damn it, how could someone so big move without making a sound? Stepping back, Orlando raked fingers through his hair and tried to regain a little composure. "Um, I'd ask how pissed he is, but..."
"Let's just say I don't think he'll be back tonight," Harry said, and peeled his shirt off of his head.
"Are you...?" Orlando stepped closer, wiped at the drying blood on Harry's mouth. "He hit you."
"It's nothing. He's done much worse." Harry unzipped his jeans, tossing them into a corner, and started walking towards the bathroom. "But it's the last time I'm stepping in for you."
It was on the tip of Orlando's tongue to point out that he hadn't asked Harry to step in for him in the first place. He swallowed the words, following Harry as far as the door. "Harry," he said, softly, eyes on the set of Harry's shoulders, "I'm sorry. I should have told him, I know..."
Harry didn't say a word, didn't move a muscle. Orlando dropped his gaze, shoved his hands deep into his pockets. "I was wrong to ask you to keep it from him, and I know an apology isn't going to mean much right now. I just...fuck. Maybe I should just go."
"I'm sure Jake would be happy to see you," Harry replied, and turned. When Orlando looked up, it was to find Harry staring calmly back at him. "Why didn't you tell him?"
Good question. "I...I didn't know how."
"You can't possibly think he'd have been jealous."
"No," Orlando said, and meant it. He learned a long time ago that jealousy just wasn't something Karl did. That any vampire did, to be honest, which was something he was still trying to get used to. "It's just that it went on so long, I didn't know how to tell him without it turning it exactly what it turned into."
"Is that all?"
Of course that wasn't all, and Orlando knew Harry knew it. "I...was afraid he'd want to meet Jake and, well..."
"That Jake would rather be with Karl than you," Harry guessed, and Orlando could only nod, ashamed of his own insecurities.
"Pathetic, huh?"
"A little," Harry replied, and chuckled when Orlando glared at him. "You're hardly a platypus, child."
"Do what?"
"A platypus," Harry repeated, stepping forward. A moment later, warm, callused fingers drifted across his neck and shoulder. "Ugliest creature put on the face of the earth. Which you definitely are not."
"I know, it's just..." His eyes drifted shut. Vaguely, he wondered if there would ever be a time when Harry's touch wouldn't undo him.
"He's Karl," Harry finished, softly.
"Exactly." Orlando fought against leaning in to that light touch even as he reached through the bond to reassure himself of Harry's love. Weak, yes, but he needed it. "Just scared he'd take over," he whispered, finally giving in enough to turn his head and nuzzle Harry's palm. "He can be overwhelming at times, y'know?"
"I do." Soft lips brushed across his forehead. "But Karl had a point. I'm not exactly the meekest of men."
A snort of laughter escaped before Orlando could stifle it. "No shit."
"And yet you trusted me."
"Because you wouldn't do it." Orlando believed the words, knew without a doubt that they were true. And that, he realized, was the difference.
"Take over, you mean?"
Orlando nodded, lifted his head to meet Harry's gaze. "Even without intending to."
"Orlando." Harry's voice was soft, almost paternal. "You're going to have to trust him at some point or the bond you have means nothing and you're going to lose him."
"I do trust him!"
"With your life, yes. But not your secrets."
The words sent Orlando reeling. He trusted Karl with his secrets. Most of them. Didn't he? He opened his mouth, closed it. "I..."
Harry just nodded. "You trust me, but not him. What does that tell you?"
"That I think we got it all backwards," Orlando finally said, small, wry smile twisting his lips.
"Now you sound like Viggo." Harry brushed another kiss to Orlando's forehead. "Tell Jake you'll be a little late. I could use some help scrubbing my back."
Orlando was smart enough to understand what Harry was really saying - we're not done talking. Mutely, he nodded, and started pulling off clothes while Harry started the shower. For once, the sight of Harry bending over didn't immediately send his thoughts into x-rated territory.
That fact didn't prevent him teasing Harry, mind. "I think you just want me naked and wet."
"And your point is...?"
Orlando laughed softly. He paused a moment, reached out mentally to let Jake know he might not make it tonight and he'd explain later, and then kicked his track pants aside. "I meant it. We really did get it backwards," he said, stepping into the shower. "I should have been your pet first."
"Karl and I have been saying that for quite some time now."
"You have?"
"Yep." Harry reached for the soap. "Karl loves you, you know this. But I don't think either of you truly understands the other."
Orlando took the soap from Harry and gave him a perplexed look. "And you think I understand you better? You still scare the fuck out of me."
"That just means you're smarter than you look."
Orlando shoved Harry under the spray. //Bastard.//
//You flatter me.//
"Conceited bastard," Orlando corrected, sliding soapy hands up Harry's spine.
"I love you, too," Harry laughed, the sound a pulse that reverberated throughout Orlando's body.
"I do sort of see what you mean, though." Orlando knelt, taking his time as he ran the soap along the backs of powerful thighs and calves. "You do scare me, but I've never had the feeling that I don't know you."
Harry braced himself against the tiles, muscles flexing as he stretched into Orlando's touch. "Give him time. But you have to start with him somewhere."
"What do you suggest?" Before Harry could say anything, he shook his head, already knowing what the objection would be. "I'm not asking you to tell me what to do. I'm asking for advice. You've known him far longer than I have and...I'm afraid I've fucked this one up beyond repair."
"Nothing is beyond repair." Smiling at Orlando's frown, Harry dragged Orlando back to his feet, wrapped him in a strong embrace. "But this isn't going to be something that's fixed with one of your smiles and a lap wiggle."
"I do not lap wiggle!" When Harry just arched an eyebrow, Orlando conceded, "Well, not so much anymore. But I get the point."
"You need to talk to him. Tell him about Jake, for starters, see where it goes from there. Karl and I never lived in each other's pockets, but we've always trusted each other."
"Provided he's ever going to talk to me again," Orlando mumbled, feeling properly chastised.
"He will. But you're doing this alone."
"I know." And he did, even though he wasn't too thrilled about the idea of facing Karl without backup. "Be nice if you were there, though."
"And if I was," Harry replied, hands settling on Orlando's shoulders and pushing him away enough that Harry could look into his eyes, "we both know I'd end up doing most of the talking. You need to be the one to do this."
Orlando nodded, wondered if he looked quite as miserable as he felt. "What if...?" He stopped, swallowed, peered up at Harry. "What if he's still pissed?"
"He has every right to his anger."
"And if he takes a swing at me?" It wasn't something that had ever happened, but Orlando had the feeling it just might this time.
"Swing back."
"What?!"
"Swing back," Harry repeated, in the sort of no-nonsense tone that Orlando knew meant business. "Sometimes a good fight can be pretty cathartic."
"I've never fought anyone, though. I mean, not like that," Orlando amended.
Harry lifted one of Orlando's hands, and gently closed it into a fist. "If he takes a shot, aim low, go for the gut," he instructed. "Your life is different now. I think it's time you really started to embrace that."
Embrace that. Yeah, sure, no problem, he could do that. In his dreams. With a small moan, Orlando dropped his head on Harry's shoulder. "My life was so much less complicated before I met you two."
Gentle fingers ran along his spine. "So was ours," Harry murmured, kissing just above Orlando's ear. "But, as Karl constantly reminds me, sometimes complicated is a good thing."
"Yeah, well, he seems to like complications," Orlando muttered. Swing back. Right. Karl would wipe the floor with him. Which is why Orlando was surprised at the next words out of his mouth. "Any more fighting advice?"
"If the first punch doesn't shock him right out of his anger, just remember to not aim at his head. That'll just piss him off."
"Reckon I'll piss him off either way." This was such a bad idea. "Aim low, go for the gut, avoid his head, got it."
"And watch out for the fangs. He's not above fighting dirty."
"Oh, bloody hell."
(To Be Continued)