FIC: Catalyst (part 12) (Harry Sinclair, Karl Urban, Orlando Bloom, Dave Wenham)

[idiosyncratic]

Title: "Catalyst" (Part Twelve)
Authors: Brenda (azewewish) & Jo (idiosyncratic)
Series: Claimed Universe
Notes: Click here for full disclaimers and pairings.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine | Part Ten | Part Eleven |



Harry was dressed in gym shorts and nothing else, shadow-boxing in the middle of the suite's living area, when Karl came out of Josh's bedroom. Even though he knew it was stress relief that had prompted the exercise, Karl still couldn't help but stand there and quietly admire the sweat-slick lines of Harry's back as he followed through with each punch. But then, he supposed he really would have to be dead not to appreciate Harry.

"What brings you out here?" Harry asked, not turning his head. He kept up with the blur of movement, feet dancing around the room as his arms moved in fluid grace.

"Josh kicked me out." Karl wandered to the bar, grabbed them each a bottle of water, and quietly started to strip out of his shirt and shoes. "Said something about catching up on British porn and sleep."

"I like him more and more."

"You don't know how glad I am to hear that," Karl said. He set the bottles down on the end table, then moved to face Harry.

Harry looked up long enough to flash Karl a quick grin. "Oh, I've got a pretty good idea."

"You mean after Orlando?" Keeping his eyes on Harry, Karl started to stretch.

"I didn't say that." Harry danced closer, hair clinging to his shoulders and neck. //You plan on standing there and watching all night, old man?//

//Thought about it.// Then, without warning, he swung low, the punch immediately blocked by the flat of Harry's palm. //But joining in is always more fun.//

That set the tone for the next hour. They took turns being the aggressor, the other blocking shots with well-honed movements, both of them nimbly moving around the room, expertly gauging each other for any perceived weakness. No matter how many centuries had passed, Karl'd never been able to find anyone that could match him in battle as well as Harry, even if it was just an impromptu sparring match.

Harry was the first to signal for a break. His chest and arms were covered in a fine sheen -- the only signs he'd exerted himself at all. It was unbelievably hot. Karl half-thought about going to his knees, but figured he'd wait until they were in the shower. He still didn't quite have a handle on Harry's mood.

"Feel any better?" he asked, tossing Harry his water.

Harry caught it with a deft flick of his wrist. "I don't know yet."

"Fair enough." Karl snagged a towel from the counter, started mopping at the sweat on his brow. He kept his eyes on Harry as Harry stripped off his shorts and started walking, naked, to the master bedroom. "Anything I can do?" he asked, following a step behind (and not just to ogle Harry's ass, although the visual didn't hurt.)

"Having you here is enough."

"I always will be." Karl stripped off the rest of his clothes as Harry moved into the bathroom. But the time Karl joined him, the shower was already running, sending up clouds of steam, and Harry was standing beneath the spray. It was a simple enough matter for Karl to step in behind Harry. Harry wasted no time taking Karl up on the offer, leaning back against Karl's chest. For a long time, they just stood there with the water sluicing over them. Karl knew they both needed these few moments to center themselves before they dealt with the practicalities of what had happened earlier.

Finally, he rested his chin on Harry's shoulder and tightened his arms. "Would you like me to call Viggo to London? Or would you prefer to wait until we're home?"

"I don't think I could leave London without this settled," Harry replied, quietly. He placed his hand over Karl's, bringing them in even closer contact with each other. "He looked happy, didn't he?"

"Yes, he did," Karl agreed. "Happier than I've ever seen him."

"I suppose I owe this Lawrence of his a debt of gratitude." Harry sighed quietly, and bent his head. "Do you think he might forgive me one day?"

"I think he already has. If Orlando chooses to go on as he is, Dave wishes for you to train him. To me, that doesn't indicate a grudge."

"Perhaps not, but I still feel..."

"I know. You wouldn't be you without your God complex."

"Are you sure you're not getting us confused again?" Harry asked, but Karl was pleased to see that Harry's shoulders were relaxed.

"Quite sure." Karl turned off the water, and leaned back. "He loves you enough to be honest and you love him enough to let him go. So let him go."

"It's not that." Harry seemed to have some sort of inner struggle. Karl waited patiently; he didn't pry. Whatever it was Harry needed to say, it was something that needed saying out loud.

"If I still feel responsible," Harry finally said, "it's that I let him go long before today. I gave him my blood and my vow for eternity and then turned right around and gave him up without a fight after a handful of years."

"And we both know why."

Harry gave him a skeptical look, but Karl just reached up to push wet hair from Harry's face. "He gave his own vow, to both of us, and then ran. You know he was never truly happy."

"It's not an easy thing to accept."

"No one said it had to be." Karl finally pushed open the shower door and stepped out. He passed a towel to Harry before grabbing one for himself. "You can't be everything for everyone, and if you continue to try, you'll go mad. However, you can be everything for those who will never leave you, no matter what, and the rest of the world can hang themselves."

Gentle lips rubbed across his, and Harry's voice was quiet when he spoke. "Of all of the twists and turns that my life has taken over the centuries, you are the one thing I've never doubted. Even when I doubted myself, I always knew..."

"I know," Karl replied, and stepped in, splaying his arms around Harry's back as he held him close, breathed in Harry's scent. "Just as I have never doubted you and what we have."

"I am fortunate."

"Goddamn right," Karl smiled, then offered his own kiss. Offered himself, body, mind, soul. Whatever Harry needed, it was his for the taking. They were still kissing when Karl led Harry to the bed.

They fell on top of the sheets, and Karl took a moment to reassure himself that Josh was sound asleep before surrendering to Harry. Anything, everything, that Harry needed right now, he would give. He reached for Harry and was pleased when Harry came into his arms with an eagerness that belied the heavy heart Karl knew he still harbored.

//Forever, Harry.//

//I know. // Sharp fangs grazed the side of his throat, and Karl arched up. Harry's skin was warm, supple beneath his hands, and he traced every scar on Harry's back with greedy fingers. He was rewarded with a low moan as Harry pressed him into the mattress, sought his lips for a kiss that was as much a reaffirmation of everything they were to each other as a passionate prelude to what was to come. And, when Harry finally pushed deep inside him, after endless time exploring each other with eager lips and hands and tongues, they immediately settled into a seamless, perfect rhythm.

Karl wrapped his ankles around Harry's thighs, used leverage to push Harry even deeper. Their hands were locked together above Karl's head, their grip tight as they shared kiss after kiss. Karl flooded their bond with every bit of love and faith he had in Harry, opened himself completely, put himself completely into Harry's hands. When he came, it was to the sting of Harry's teeth in his throat. //Love you, puppy.// He wasn't sure he could speak, so he let the bond speak for him. His hands slid down Harry's back, pulling him closer.

Harry curled around him, idly tracing patterns on Karl's chest. //Love you, old man.//

//Feel better?//

Harry's chuckle was breathless. "I'd have to be dead not to feel better inside you."

Karl stretched, languid and sated, felt the twinge in pleasantly sore muscles. "I'm happy to sacrifice myself."

"Sacrifice, is it?"

Wisely, Karl just smiled. He knew better than to answer a question like that, even if he'd invited it in the first place. Then Harry leaned back in for another long kiss that quickly turned heated. It was a very long time before either of them spoke again.

***

Orlando slid his keycard into the door and slipped into the suite. One lamp was lit in the front room, but the rest lay in darkness. It was quiet. If he listened, he could just make out Josh's soft snores from one of the bedrooms. Without making a sound, he moved through the penthouse, making sure everything was in order. Then his feet led him to the master bedroom, and he paused in the door. Harry and Karl lay tangled together in the middle of the big bed. The sheets were, not surprisingly, on the carpet in a crumpled heap.

Still silent, he stripped off his clothes, mindful to keep his thoughts calm so as not to disturb the two sleeping men. If Dave had taught him little else, he had taught Orlando to control his thoughts. And Orlando had proven to be a very apt pupil. Smiling, he crawled into bed. The mattress barely moved.

Almost as one, Harry and Karl shifted and curled around him, cocooning him with strong arms and soft murmurs of comfort. Orlando settled, sighing in contentment, and congratulated himself on managing to get into the bed without waking either of them up.

"How's Dave?" Harry asked, quietly, eyes still closed.

"Hope you managed to talk between bouts," Karl added, just as softly.

"Fuck!" Orlando's yelp was painfully loud in the silent room, and the bed shook with muffled laughter. "Wankers, the both of you! You knew!"

"Of course we did."

"Did you honestly think you were good enough for us not to notice?"

"Yes," Orlando said, with only a soft huff to show his annoyance. "And Dave's fine. He really is. Sad, yes, but he believes this is all for the best." He shrugged, then moved around in the bed, trying to get comfortable.

Harry settled the matter by hauling Orlando up against his chest. "You two truly talked?"

"We did." Orlando looked up at Harry, then twisted around so he could see Karl, as well. "He said that he'd be sad if, y'know, he wasn't my Sire any more, but he'd be okay with it since it would be you, Harry, and then there was Lawrence, and he owns, like, the best video game company in the world!"

//Did any of that make sense to you?//

Karl's question to Harry was so open that even Orlando could hear it. Amber eyes flashed with amusement as Harry looked at Karl. "Somehow, I doubt Lawrence was there with you."

"Well, no," Orlando admitted, "but Dave told me about him. Said he's bigger than you."

Harry's lips twitched suspiciously, but his reply was mild enough. "Is he now?"

"That's what Dave said. And," Orlando said, with a lusty sigh, "he has tattoos."

"Ah, well, that completely explains why Dave threw us over, then."

Orlando peered at Karl. "I can't tell if you're joking."

"Give it time," Harry replied.

"You know, I'm thinking about getting another one."

"Alright."

"And, well, I was thinking maybe we could all get one," Orlando said, looking from Harry to Karl with his most serious expression. "Y'know, together."

"Why?"

"Well..." Orlando made a small sound in the back of his throat. Figured Harry would be difficult about it. But, he wasn't ready to admit that Dave had been right. "Well, no reason, really. I just, y'know, think you'd look good with one."

"You think I don't look good now?" Harry sounded perplexed. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking on Orlando's part, and the both of them were, in fact, laughing at him. Again.

"I didn't say that. I just...you know."

Karl pressed a quick kiss to Orlando's lips. "Give it up, child, I've been trying for centuries to get him to get a tattoo."

"You have?" Orlando's heart sank. Centuries of saying no was a long time.

Harry shrugged. "It's never been something that's been of interest to me."

Josh shuffled into the room, blanket thrown over his shoulders, yawning lustily as he looked at everyone on the bed. "What's that?"

"Harry getting a tattoo," Karl replied, and patted the space beside him. Orlando noted it was on his other side.

"You thinkin' about getting' one?" Josh rubbed his eyes and sat on the bed. "I know a great artist that works at Under the Gun on Melrose. It's in a sketchy 'hood, but he's worth it. He did this one for me." He dropped one side of the blanket and twisted, revealing the Celtic design on his shoulder blade.

"Wicked work, mate!" Orlando leaned in to get a better look, one hand braced on Karl's hip. He studied the intricate lines for a moment, then twisted to look back at Harry. "You'd look nice with something like that. Maybe an armband."

Josh stretched out to plaster himself against Karl's side. "My guy'd totally do a custom designed one for you. Having a Council member wearing his ink would be massive for business."

"I'm not Celtic."

"Well, you are Welsh," Karl pointed out.

"Of Norman descent, not Gaelic," Harry argued. "You know this."

"That's not the point," Orlando said, after rolling his eyes at Josh in a 'see what I have to put up with' gesture. "The point is, with your arms, it would look way hot."

Harry flexed his arm contemplatively; Orlando just stared. He was positive no one would blame him. "My arms look fine as they are," Harry finally pronounced.

"Your arms are perfect," Karl agreed, with his own appreciative stare, "but even perfection can be improved upon."

"Then it's not perfect, now, is it?"

Josh poked Orlando in the side. "They always like this?" he asked, when Orlando looked down at him.

"You have no idea," Orlando whispered. He turned to face Harry, still on his knees, and smiled.

"That won't work," Harry said dryly, but his eyes twinkled. Good. He was amused. He was always easier to deal with when he was amused.

Orlando reached out and wrapped his fingers around the top of one bicep. He tried to, anyway, but given the size of Harry's arm, his fingertips wouldn't meet his thumb. "Right here," he said. "One on each arm. And it doesn't even have to be Celtic. It could...I dunno, be tribal or something."

"You could always," Josh said, stifling another yawn, "put Karl's name on one arm and Orlando's on the other."

"In Gaelic," Orlando said, managing to get it out just as Harry opened his mouth. "Or Welsh. Something."

"How about no?"

"You're no fun."

"I've been told that more than once."

"Told you I've been trying for centuries," Karl said, scooting down on the bed to cuddle with Josh. "He's stubborn."

"One of my best qualities, or so I'm told," Harry said, and hauled Orlando against him. "And we're done with this conversation." His voice was gentle, yet implacable. "What you do with your body is entirely your prerogative. If you and Karl want to cover your skin in markings, I will worship every inch of both of you just as much as I do now. But I won't be joining you."

"Not even a little one?" Orlando took one look at Harry's expression and flashed his most charming smile. Harry's expression didn't change. "Alright, fine, we're done."

"Good."

"For now," Orlando muttered, not quite under his breath.

"You could always give him something else to do with his mouth," Karl suggested, voice muffled and thick with laughter. Even Josh was snickering, and Orlando reached back to swat at both of them.

"Not with your pet in the bed, he'd likely be traumatized for life," Harry said.

"And thank you for thinking of me," Josh replied quickly.

"However, since the suggestion does have merit..." Before Orlando could do much more than squeak, Harry stood and hauled Orlando over his shoulder in a fireman's carry.

"Oi!" Orlando smacked one palm against Harry's back and tried to loosen the hold. When Harry's hand connected with his bare ass, Orlando yelped. "That's playing dirty, damn it!"

"When did I say I was going to play fair?"

"Good point." Harry started towards the door, Orlando's legs kicking in time with his steps. "Are we leaving? I suppose we are. Alright, then, 'nite you two, try not to be loud with your shagging, I'm a light sleeper, and I really need my rest. Say good night, Harry. Harry?"

The last thing Orlando saw as Harry carried him from the room was Josh curled against Karl, laughing so hard he was wheezing.

A minute later, he was unceremoniously dumped on top of the bed in one of the other rooms, and Harry had shut the door firmly behind them. "So..." Orlando tracked Harry's progress around the room as he closed the curtains, then made his way back to the bed.

"Come here." Orlando wasted no time in crawling into Harry's arms, and laying his head on Harry's shoulder. "I know you said you were fine, and I believe you," Harry said, breath ruffling Orlando's hair, "but I'm also sensing some sadness."

For a moment, Orlando just lay there, secure in Harry's arms, and then he nodded and pressed his face to the side of Harry's neck. "He won't be ours anymore," he whispered, fighting back tears. He hadn't cried in front of Dave, and he was damned if he'd do it in front of Harry. "I'm going to miss him."

"I'll miss him, too," Harry said. "But he can still be yours if you want, you know."

"I know." Orlando had to stop and swallow a few times, eyes shut tight to battle the stinging behind his eyelids. He wasn't going to do this. He wasn't.

//It's alright. Don't fight it.// Harry's hands were soothing on his back, voice equally soothing in his mind, and Orlando could feel love and acceptance pulsing through their bond. He struggled for another moment, then gave up, allowed the tears to come. Harry simply held him.

By the time he was finished crying, every muscle was limp, and he felt as if he'd been put through an emotional wringer. "Wish things had been different," he said, voice thick and hoarse. "I don't...if I choose...I'm going to lose my bond with him, won't I?"

Harry was silent for so long that Orlando lifted his head in concern. Strands of dark hair fell in front of Harry's face, concealing his eyes, his expression, but their bond felt as strong as ever. "I don't know," he finally said. "It's possible, but...I just don't know. The love you two have for each other is its own bond that might be able to withstand the changes."

Without thinking, Orlando twisted to straddle Harry's lap, arms draped over Harry's shoulders. "I'm sorry," he whispered, silently berating himself for his selfishness, wishing he knew what to do to ease Harry's burden. "I should have never pushed the two of you together, and I should have asked you for the Gift, not anyone else."

"Don't blame yourself. I should have recognized that the attraction I felt for him wasn't permanent. And I'm the one that pushed for you to ask him for the Gift."

"I'll stop blaming myself if you stop blaming yourself. Otherwise, you know, I might decide not to ask you for the Gift when Viggo unmakes me."

"You've made your decision, then, I take it," Harry said, pulling Orlando close. "Did Dave explain to you the dangers involved?"

"He did," Orlando said, with a small sigh. He felt more miserable by the minute. "I do still love him."

Another kiss was brushed across his lips. "As do I. But love doesn't always lead to bonding, nor should it."

"Be simpler if it did." He rested his head on Harry's shoulder. "It's going to hurt, isn't it?"

"It will. And if your body will accept the Gift a second time, it's likely to be just as bad the next time around."

"You really know how to make a guy want to do this, don't you?" Harry chuckled, and Orlando lifted his head to catch Harry's lips in a slow, thorough kiss. He would never get tired of the feel of Harry's kiss, even if he lived to be Viggo's age. "At least we'll give everyone something else to talk about."

"I could give a fuck about the world," Harry told him. "And neither should you. If this is something you and Dave agree on, and you're comfortable with the dangers involved, then it's up to you. Although, you do realize you need to tell Karl yourself about your decision."

"Karl keeps saying that I'm more yours, so I doubt he'll mind that I told you first." Orlando already felt a lot more relaxed about the whole thing. Sure, it would hurt, but he'd have Harry and Karl with him. And how bad could it be?

"Nevertheless, he does have a bond with you that must be respected."

"I know. And I'll never give up that bond with him," he said, "no matter what. I won't give up my bond with you, either. I gave my word, and it's just as strong as yours." He had no idea why he was even saying this, why it was so important to him, but the words had just tumbled out, almost of their own volition.

Harry's gaze was steady and calm. "I never doubted you. I doubt you even realize how bright your bond with us is, or how much we both have come to depend on it these last few years."

Orlando blinked. Then he felt his face grow hot, and all he could do was duck his head and bury his face in the curve of Harry's neck. "Thank you," he whispered.

"You're welcome."

(To Be Continued)