FIC: Catalyst (part 34) (Harry Sinclair, Karl Urban, Orlando Bloom, Dave Wenham)

[idiosyncratic]

Title: "Catalyst" (Part Thirty-Four)
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 | 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 | Part Twenty-Eight | Part Twenty-Nine | Part Thirty | Part Thirty-One | Part Thirty-Two Part Thirty-Three


The castle was silent as Orlando let himself in and gently closed the front door behind him. He walked down the hallway, stopping at the library entrance, and just stood there, drinking in the sight of Harry. Lamplight played across dark hair, picking out strands of gold and red, and across muscled forearms as Harry turned the page of whatever report he was reading. The faded t-shirt that proclaimed "Bite me!" was stretched tight across his shoulders and chest, hugged his biceps, and Orlando smiled as he remembered buying it for Harry years ago as a joke. It still managed to surprise him when Harry wore it.

"I'm home," he said, as he took a few steps into the room and waited.

"So I heard," Harry replied, putting down the report with a smile of welcome. "Karl stopped by on his way out to the carriage house. You look rested." Harry patted the space on the sofa beside him. Grateful, Orlando sank onto the cushions. "You and Karl should do this more often."

Orlando leaned into Harry's warmth, curling around him as if he'd never been away. He couldn't help the sigh of satisfaction when Harry's arm draped around his shoulders. Finally, he was where he belonged. "Trying to get rid of me already?"

"Not quite yet, no."

"Yet?" Orlando lifted his head and tried to be insulted. He settled for making a face at Harry. "Now there's a ringing endorsement."

"Brat," Harry said, and chuckled as Orlando settled back against him.

For several long moments, Orlando was content to sit there, listening to Harry's soft breathing as blunt fingers toyed with his hair. "When everything is settled," he murmured, "I'd like for the two of us to go somewhere. You haven't taken a proper vacation in years."

"Oh, I don't know, not having you and Karl underfoot was like a vacation."

This time, Orlando delivered a slap to Harry's thigh. "Be serious."

"Who says I'm not? You two are a full-time job in the best of times. But worth it," Harry added, when Orlando went to smack his leg again.

"Damn right we are. I'm serious. Maybe when Josh and Karl go away after the ceremony."

"We'll see if you're up to it," Harry replied, with a kiss to Orlando's forehead, and just like that, Orlando was reminded of what was coming up.

"Harry...I'm scared. Promise me you won't let me die."

Gentle fingers under his chin made him look up. Orlando was rocked by the raw emotion in Harry's eyes. "I'm not going to let you die. God himself won't challenge me on this."

"Thank you," Orlando whispered, and burrowed closer until Harry was holding him close again.

"It's natural to be scared," Harry continued softly. "But you're young and strong and you've got me and Karl looking after you. Those are damn good odds."

"I know. It's just..."

"We won't let anything happen to you. No matter what. You have my vow on this. If either Karl or myself thought, even for a second, that you would truly come to harm, we would have fought you much harder on your decision."

"I'm going to hold you to that," Orlando said, voice watery and weak. "Or I'm going to do to you like I'm going to do to Karl."

"And what's that?" Harry sounded exactly as Orlando expected - amused at the idea of Orlando threatening him.

"I'm going to come back and haunt you for the rest of your very long life."

"I would expect nothing less." Harry's lips were on his the next moment, gentle and reassuring, and Orlando sank into it, into the love that flowed from their bond.

Orlando dropped his head back on Harry's shoulder, and allowed his body to relax. It helped that Harry was still holding him close. "So...um...what'd you do while we were gone?"

"You were gone?"

Orlando snorted. "Stop teasing."

"Helped Josh with the carriage house, got caught up on a couple of business deals..."

"Karl says you were shacked up with a mysterious someone at the retreat."

"Is that your subtle way of asking about my sex life?"

"Not so subtle, huh?" When Harry shook his head, Orlando blew a stray curl from his forehead and offered a small smile. "Alright then, who were you fucking at the retreat?"

"None of your business."

"So you're not denying you were. Was it Monica? I bet it was. Is she still in town?" he guessed, glancing at Harry hopefully. He wasn't holding out much hope that he could get Harry to tell him anything, but he figured one day he'd beat the odds.

"I never said that."

"Of course not," Orlando sighed, deliberately making it as dramatic as possible. "Fine, fine, keep your secrets. I'll just ask Sean."

Harry just lifted an eyebrow. "And what makes you think Sean knows who I was with, or if I was with anyone?"

"Because Sean knows more of your secrets than anyone," Orlando said, then smirked. "Including Karl."

"That doesn't mean he'll tell you."

Harry had a good point, mostly because Sean seemed immune to just about every tactic Orlando had. But it was always worth asking. "I'd like to meet her. Monica, I mean."

"Are you sure about this?"

"Well, you obviously care a great deal about her," Orlando replied. In fact, if he had to guess, he'd say that Harry felt a lot more than that, but he wasn't about to open that can of worms. "If she's important to you, then I'd like to get to know her."

"I'll arrange it, then." Then Harry chuckled. "Although I'm not entirely certain that one just 'gets to know' Monica, as you put it."

"And why's that?"

"You'll see when you meet her."

"She's not going to eat me, is she?"

At that, Harry laughed outright, the sound reverberating through the both of them. "Oh, Orlando, there was never a doubt about that."

"Perfect. I knew there was a reason I didn't like women," Orlando mumbled.

"You'll be alive a long, long time. After awhile, things that once seemed impossible or that you never even thought about become something you realize you can't live without." There was something in Harry's voice that made Orlando think they weren't exactly talking about Monica any more.

"I've already found that." Framing Harry's face with his hands, Orlando leaned in until their foreheads touched. His arms slipped easily around Harry's shoulders when Harry's wrapped around his waist and pulled him close.

They sat like that for a long moment, then Orlando lifted his head to rest it against Harry's once more. "Why don't you just admit you had Monica around while we were gone?"

"For a simple reason. Because some things about my life will always remain, and always have remained, private." When Orlando just frowned, Harry brushed a light kiss across his lips. "There are things between myself and Karl that no one else will ever know about, just as there are things between you and me or you and Karl that no one else needs to know. And if this is something that bothers you, I would hope that you learn to come to terms with it."

"It doesn't bother me," Orlando said, after a short pause. "It's just that I like hearing about the things that make you happy." Harry's skin was firm under his hands, and Orlando slid his palms over Harry's shoulders and down his biceps. "I think Monica makes you happy," he said, putting into words a thought he'd had since Monica had first been mentioned. "I think she makes you happy in a way that Karl and I can't, no matter how hard we try."

"You're not women."

Orlando made a face. "I know that."

"I'm being serious. I think one of the reasons why I didn't recognize our bond when we first met was that I always assumed, should I ever even think of taking a pet, it would be a woman."

"You know what they say about assumptions," Orlando replied. "Harry, can I ask you a personal question?"

Harry didn't say no, but something shifted behind his eyes. Orlando knew in that moment that he could ask, but Harry might not answer. So he took a deep breath and slid his hands down to curl around Harry's. "After Lauren died...did you ever think about, y'know, having another child?"

"Not even once." The reply was prompt. Orlando noticed that Harry's hands were tight against his own. "Loss is the very first lesson vampires learn, but after her...no. Monica has offered - it's not easy for vampire women to get pregnant, which is why there are so few born vampires - but I couldn't."

"But wouldn't a child with Monica be immortal? It's just...the rare times you talk about Lauren, I know you miss her terribly. And I know you can't replace her, but...if you have the chance, why not take it?"

"Lauren was a gift. One I thought I would never have. I've learned never to say never, but I can't foresee a time when I'll ever be ready to take that step again." When Orlando opened his mouth to speak, Harry squeezed on his hands. "This isn't up for debate. It's my choice, and I've made it."

"Very well." At least he'd tried. "I still want to meet Monica, though. I'd like to watch the two of you together."

The corners of Harry's lips quirked. "Would you now?"

Oh, fuck, had he just...? Groaning, Orlando flopped his forehead on Harry's shoulder. "Uh, I'm...fuck. I didn't mean it like..."

"I know." Harry still sounded far too amused. "But should you change your mind, I trust you'll let me know. I'm certain Monica wouldn't mind showing off for you a little."

"Doesn't surprise me." ...She wouldn't mind showing off for you... Damn it. Now that the idea was there, it was determined to cement itself in his brain. Orlando tried to ignore it. He didn't like women, not like that, and had even less interest in what Harry was suggesting. Which is why the next words out of his mouth were as much of a shock to himself as to Harry. "What's it like with her?"

"Sure you want to know?"

Orlando nodded, still mute. He couldn't believe he'd said anything.

"Sort of...I suppose intense is a good enough word. Voracious. I'm not certain how to describe it, really. I don't have Karl's gift for words."

Orlando let out a soft snort. "If Karl was here, the explanation would either involve flowers or fireworks," he said, smiling when Harry laughed. "He can be as hard to understand as Viggo sometimes."

Voracious. Lovely. Orlando was positive she was going to try to eat him when they met. But there was no way he could back out now, not without looking like a coward in Harry's eyes. And since he'd asked the question...

"Try," he said. "I want your thoughts and feelings on this. Even if the words aren't pretty and poetic."

"I've never claimed to be either," Harry smiled. "And before you start, I know what you meant. It's...she's incredibly beautiful, but that's not why we keep coming back to each other. I trust her." He got a faraway look in his eyes - Orlando wondered if he even realized he was doing it. "I've never met anyone who has her appetite for life, for trying new things. I'm just as content to go out with her and watch her seduce the world without even trying as I am to stay in with her and do nothing more exciting than share the paper over a cup of coffee."

"She sounds like an amazing person," Orlando said. He pondered Harry's words, trying to understand them, but they didn't seem to click. So he just smiled and cupped Harry's jaw in one hand. "I'm glad you have her."

"Orlando -"

"I mean it. I mean, I'm not sure I completely understand why and all, and maybe I won't until I meet her, but you're more relaxed when you talk about her. That's good."

"There is a way for you to understand."

"There is?" When Harry just continued to patiently look at him, Orlando's brows furrowed. What the hell was Harry talking about...oh. Oh. "Um. That was, um...I almost fainted the last time you did something like that."

"Don't worry, what Monica and I have isn't nearly as intense or all-consuming as what Karl and I have. Monica and I have no bond like that. And you're not mortal, like you were last time. But, if you truly wanted to know what I feel for her..."

If they did this, Orlando knew he would understand everything. The problem was that he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to forget. He took a deep breath and locked eyes with Harry. "If I pass out, you can't tell anyone," he said in the fiercest voice he could manage.

"I promise," Harry replied, quietly, then lifted a hand to massage Orlando's scalp. "Relax into me."

It was an easy enough request to fill, especially with Harry's hands on him, each touch soothing, filled with love. Orlando took a deep breath, then another, allowed his body and mind to settle down, unwind. Gradually, he became aware of a slight pulsing in his head that turned into a low throb. Through it, he could feel soul-deep affection, white-hot lust, a mutual admiration that spanned centuries of loss and upheaval, and a serenity that was almost transcendent in its peacefulness. Harry was right - it wasn't anywhere near the same intensity as what he had with Karl - but Orlando could sense a depth that still left him trembling when the sensation left.

"You love her." The second the words were out of his mouth, he felt his face go bright red. Fuck, but he had to learn to think before he opened his mouth. "I'm sorry," he said, trying to find the right words. "I didn't mean that, and I know better, I know I should think first and not just blurt shit out, but I do, and I'm sorry, Harry, I just --"

A finger over his mouth silenced him, and he just sat there, staring at Harry with wide eyes.

"It's alright," Harry said, quietly. "I do love her."

"I'm not jealous," Orlando blurted out. "That wasn't how I meant it."

"It wouldn't upset me if you were. As Sean reminded me, I was jealous of his relationship with Karl when Karl was mentoring him, and their relationship was, and has always been, strictly platonic. Getting over mortal emotions takes time."

Orlando offered Harry a sheepish smile. "Alright, maybe I am a little jealous. But I'm okay with it."

"Are you?"

The question was simple, and Orlando's instinct was to say yes, of course, but he stifled that and really thought about it. "I am," he said, finally, softly, and smiled. "She gives you something that I can't, that Karl can't, and no matter if she is never a friend, I will love her for being able to make you smile like that."

"You've come far in the last few years," Harry replied, and Orlando knew he had to be glowing on the inside from the praise.

"I've had an excellent teacher," he said, and rubbed his lips against Harry's. "Love you."

"For eternity," Harry affirmed, and the next kiss wasn't nearly as light.

When the kiss ended and Orlando lifted his head, he had to remember how to breathe. At some point, he had shifted forward until his groin was pressed tight against Harry's. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course," Harry replied, one hand slipping beneath the hem of Orlando's shirt to stroke up his spine.

"Why are we still dressed?"

"Because you wanted to talk."

"Oh, sure," Orlando replied as he sat up and stripped his shirt over his head. "Blame it on me."

"Always," and then Harry's lips were on his again before Orlando could formulate a reply.

(To Be Continued)