Sean wasn't quite sure when he'd fallen in love with New Zealand, but it must have been his second or third day back in London when he'd finally noticed that he just...missed the place. Missed the rugged beauty of the mountains, missed the seductive tranquility of the forests, missed the wild, untamed sea just outside the front porch of his rented house. And, God help him, he'd missed Karl. He'd tried not to. Karl was a friend, a great guy, someone he could laugh with, joke with, stay up all night drinking with... But, it wasn't like Sean didn't have friends in England. Not like he didn't have drinking buddies and people he could talk to. Of course, he also didn't want any of his drinking buddies in England, either. Sean still wasn't quite sure when it had happened, still didn't know when he and Karl had passed that final boundary that separated friend from potential lover. They'd clicked from almost the first moment Viggo had introduced them, and it had been a nice, easy, laid-back friendship. Something the both of them had needed. But it wasn't like sparks had flown or it had been love at first sight or any of that rot. They were both straight. At least, Sean thought they were. Or had been. He just didn't know anymore. And it wasn't like they'd been constantly around each other. They had been often apart for days at a stretch, with contrasting schedules and long days that demanded all of their time and energy. And it wasn't like they'd had any scenes together, although they'd joked to PJ one night at the pub that they should, since their characters knew each other in the books. Trust PJ to point out that Boromir and Eomer didn't exactly have any scenes together in the books, either. Just Eomer's lament upon hearing about Boromir's death. Moving, but hardly the basis for a scene. Still, it had been enough to set Sean and Karl off, and they'd told outrageous story after another about the exploits of their characters until PJ had laughingly told them to piss off already and let him enjoy his pint in peace. That had been the night Karl and Sean had first kissed. Certainly wasn't anything they'd been planning. Well, Sean hadn't been planning it, and he'd like to think Karl had been just as shocked as well. He'd seemed to be. Christ, straight men just did not kiss each other. But that had been exactly what had happened. Sean had caught a lift with Karl to the pub on the back of Karl's bike, and the ride back to Sean's house had been nice, pleasant. Sean remembered he'd been thinking about buying a motorcycle of his own -- something to tool around in on rare time off to explore more of this beautiful country. And, when Karl had pulled up to his house and shut off the engine and Sean had gotten off the back of the bike, he'd turned to tell his friend 'nite, mate, see ya later,' and it just seemed like the most natural thing to lean in and kiss Karl's cheek...just to thank him for being there. Except, of course, he'd missed by a few inches because Karl had turned his head at the same time. And, before Sean was quite aware of it, Karl's warm, firm lips had been pressed against his. And Sean really should have pulled away in disgust, in laughter, in apology. But, he had done none of those things. And neither had Karl. He'd just sat there on the back of his bike, and Sean had just stood there beside him, and they'd continued to press their lips against each other's, looking deep into each other's eyes. And, after a long heartbeat of feeling those lips on his, Sean had pulled back, and Karl had done the same. But Sean hadn't apologized...and neither had Karl. They'd just stood there, still looking at each other in the tranquil light of the moon. And Sean had thought about all the things he should say...I'm not gay, I don't fancy blokes, I'm still technically married, You're too young for me...and had said none of them. He'd just studied Karl, studied all of the angular planes and soft contours of Karl's face -- the high cheekbones, the intense hazel eyes, the smiling, full mouth, the wide, smooth forehead -- all of the little things that, when put together, made up something of almost indefinable beauty. And then he'd leaned back in and kissed Karl again -- not by accident this time and not because it was easier than pulling away -- but, because he'd wanted to. And Karl had kissed him right back, had welcomed him, his lips pliant and soft under Sean's, and even though he'd kept it light, Sean had still been a bit winded when they'd stopped. That had been it, really. Sean had said goodnight, Karl had said goodnight, they'd gone their separate ways, and Sean hadn't seen him again until the next weekend. But he'd thought about those full lips under his, and he'd thought about the soft scratch of Karl's beard against his goatee, and he'd thought about the easy way Karl just seemed to accept the kiss, accept him. Perhaps they just did things differently in New Zealand. But all of the unanswered questions in Sean's mind and all of the speculation hadn't stopped the pleasure from coursing inside Sean's veins when he'd seen Karl at the pub that weekend. And it hadn't stopped him from going over to Karl's table and having a pint with him and Viggo, swapping stories about their week and arguing over football. And it hadn't stopped Sean from giving Karl a slow kiss goodnight when they'd all finally left the pub...just to feel those lips again, just to know if it would be the same. It had been better. And Sean had ignored Viggo's questioning stare, had ignored the appraising look Ian had given him, ignored the voice in his head that kept asking why he was doing this and why Karl was letting him. And he hadn't talked to Karl about it then, either. They'd both just pretended it hadn't happened...and had gone back to being friends. But there was a hum between them that hadn't been there...and they both knew they were going to have to deal with it eventually. And so, Sean had actually been glad that he'd been forced to fly back to England to deal with the last bit paperwork of making his divorce from Abby final. He'd almost jumped at the chance to mire himself in the legalities, in visiting with his daughters, in going 'round to his normal pub, in seeing his parents, sleeping in his bed. But it wasn't really home anymore. And he hadn't felt comfortable there. He'd wanted to be 10,000 miles away, under a different sky with a different ocean crashing in waves outside his door and with a different set of friends at a different pub. And he'd especially wanted to be with one friend in particular. So, here he was, back in New Zealand, ready to begin filming the Mines of Moria on Monday...but, God, first, he had some thinking to do. And some questions that needed answering. And only one person could answer them. Which was why he was currently outside Karl's house, trying to summon the courage to knock on the door. Karl was his friend, a good friend. No matter what, Sean still wanted that. But, he had to know...had to know if this was a passing fancy, a bit of curiosity...or something altogether different. Because Sean was still straight, still loved women, loved their contours and curves and smell and everything about them. But, there was something in Karl's beauty -- the beauty of that soul, of the man himself -- that spoke to him and told him that maybe straight was too narrow a label and maybe it was time for a change. Maybe Karl could offer something none of the women in Sean's life had been able to. Well, standing around wasn't going to solve anything. So, because this was his friend and he'd been in this house more times than he cared to think and because Karl had always told him the door would be open to him whenever he wanted, Sean let himself in the back door and stood in Karl's kitchen, listening for sounds that would indicate whether Karl was home. "Karl?" "In the back," came the answering call, and Sean moved his way through the house that was as familiar to him as his own, taking in the worn furniture and faded wallpaper and older carpet as he walked down the hall. Karl's house was as honest and real as Karl himself, and just being in it calmed Sean's nerves. They'd always been friends. Why should that change? "I don't see you," Sean said, when he was in the empty bedroom, looking around. He tried not looking at the bed, at its rumpled sheets and creased pillows. Tried not to think about Karl sleeping under those sheets. Tried not to think about if Karl slept naked or in boxers or in pajamas... "In the bathroom." Karl's voice, from the room connecting the bedroom. "Having a soak." Sean should leave now. He should. Karl was naked in the next room. Taking a bath. Except, Karl was a friend, right? His friend. And things had always been easy, been free between them and why the hell should it matter that Karl was naked -- it wasn't like Sean had never seen a naked man before. And if Karl was really being this open, this cool, then maybe there really wasn't anything to talk about and maybe Sean had been making a big deal out of nothing. So, Sean went into the bathroom, determined to be friendly. But couldn't stop the swift stutter in his chest at seeing Karl in that claw-footed bathtub, at seeing all that wet, tanned skin splayed out in a tempting array, at seeing that black hair slicked back from his remarkable face. And couldn't stop the rush of homecoming in his blood when Karl smiled at him with those unforgettable lips. "Hey, Bean. You're back." And just like that, there it was, that easy acceptance in those hazel eyes, that friendly grin as Karl sat up a bit in the tub, sloshing water over the sides. "So it seems." Sean was amazed he was actually able to form words through the cotton in his mouth. He couldn't stop staring. And maybe it was rude, yes, but maybe it wasn't, because Karl continued to lie there, still open, still easy, still relaxed. "When did you get back?" "A bit ago." Just got back from the airport, actually, but Sean wasn't about to tell Karl that. Some things were better left unsaid, even between friends. Sean leaned against the counter, shoved his hands down into his jeans to keep them still and tried, once again, to not look below the water line in the tub to the muscled body underneath it. This was going to be awkward enough without Sean having to deal with a hard dick on top of everything else. And looking at Karl's naked, wet body made him hard. "Look, I've put this off..." He stopped. This wasn't how he wanted to say this. "You don't need to talk about it, if you don't want to." Karl continued to look at him through friendly eyes. But his body was still all glistening and tempting, and Sean knew he had to say something, no matter how much he wanted to continue ignoring it. There were still those kisses to think about, still the feel of those lips against his in acceptance, in welcome. "But I want to. At least, I think I want to." Sean took a deep breath and thought the way that damp skin would taste, thought about the way he felt when he was around Karl. "I don't know what I want any more." "Understandable. You've just gone through a rough time." "No, not the divorce," Sean said, waving the other man off. "I meant you." Karl raised a dark, damp eyebrow. "Oh?" "Why did you kiss me back?" Karl didn't try to ignore the question and he didn't shy away from it. His answer was almost immediate. "Because you kissed me first, and I reacted." "That's it?" Sean didn't know if he was disappointed or not. There seemed to be so much more going on under the surface, but maybe it had been only him. Maybe Karl had just been caught up in the moment. All three times. "It was, the first time." Then again, maybe not. "And after that?" "I assume I responded for the same reasons you did it in the first place," Karl answered, running a hand through that long, wet hair. Water dripped from the hairs on his arm, and it was all Sean could do not to lean over and catch the droplets with his tongue. "Because I wanted to." "What about...?" Sean made an hourglass shape with his hands. "Women? Dunno." Karl shrugged, and more water spilled from the tub. But he returned his gaze to Sean and it was still just as open as ever. Only now there was something more in it. "All I know is you feel right." "What's that supposed to mean?" Karl just fixed him with another long stare. "I think you know." And yeah, maybe he did. Maybe this did feel right, and maybe straight really was a label and gay was just another word for happy, and maybe it was possible to like women...and one man. Because it wasn't all men. Just Karl. Karl and the way he made Sean feel. Karl and the way the world was simply better when he was around. And maybe that made Sean fucked up, but he didn't think so. And maybe it made him a poofter, but he didn't think that either. Maybe, after all, the only thing it really made him was human. And he wanted to be with this human and find out how they could be together. And somehow, Karl had known this and had accepted this long before Sean had. "Why didn't you say anything?" Another shrug. Lean muscle rippled under that tanned skin and Sean wondered what that muscle would feel like under his hands. "I knew I wouldn't need to," Karl told him. "You'd come when you were ready." Finally, Sean really looked back at him...and had to fight to speak past the lump in his throat at the look in Karl's eyes. "Well, I'm here now," he said, his voice hoarse. "So, come in." And Karl just sat back in the bathtub and waited. And it was just so simple. They could explore this -- whatever it was -- between them and not have to worry about being friends in the morning because they already were. And they wouldn't have to worry about whether this was right or wrong or socially acceptable or whatever...because it was right for them and acceptable to them. And maybe it would only be this one time, maybe that would get it out of their systems or whatever, but maybe it wouldn't. And that would be okay too. Sean quietly took off his clothes, dropping shirt, jeans, shoes, on the hard tile of the floor. And couldn't quite contain a certain primal satisfaction when Karl's pupils dilated and his breathing quickened as each piece of clothing was removed. Good to know it wasn't just him, that this would be a mutual thing...whatever it still was. Nice to know he could make Karl want. Sean turned off the overhead light, throwing the room into a world of silver and white as moonlight and starlight streamed in through the window above them. Yes, this was the way it should be. Karl looked his best with the moonlight playing across those incredible features. Sean stepped into the tub, settled between Karl's legs as the hot water flowed over him, caressed his body. Karl twisted until Sean was under him, legs tangling, and the soft scratchy hairs felt different...but good. And Sean still really didn't know where this all would lead. But he was willing to go there with Karl. He said this aloud and Karl simply smiled. "We'll discover this together," Karl told him, and then he leaned forward. He grasped Sean's face lightly between his hands and this time...oh yes, this time, the kiss was beyond anything, everything. Those soft lips opened up to him, Karl's damp beard brushed against his chin, his tongue flicked out to languidly tangle around his and it was slow, it was lazy...but it also claimed. Not just curiosity, not just exploration, not just a casual thing. Karl kissed him liked he'd been waiting to do it his entire life, like Sean's mouth, his taste, was something he'd been searching for and finally found. Need, hunger, friendship, love -- all of them twisted around in Sean's head as he sank into the kiss, sliding his hand in Karl's wet hair to bring those lips closer, to align that body more fully on top of him. Wet skin glided against his, a hard chest pressed into his and Sean could feel Karl's erection pressing against his thigh as they sank into the water, still with lips on each other. And it was all so very beautiful, so good...so right. "You kiss pretty well for a bloke," Karl smiled, running fingers through Sean's goatee, his chin, up to his cheeks. Sean laughed. How good that he could laugh while still needing this much. "I could say the same thing about you." "So say it." Karl's hand started drifting downward to stroke Sean's shoulders, his collarbone, his chest. And every nerve in Sean's body just sang in recognition...yes, finally, you're here, touching me. "You...kiss pretty well..." Sean stopped, unable to continue, as Karl's hand moved downward to flat stomach and wet curls to rest on top of Sean's length. "...for a bloke," Karl finished, his breath warm against Sean's lips before he claimed them again in a kiss that now burned, now possessed. The hand between their bodies moved slowly on Sean, testing, teasing, gliding through the water over burning flesh. Sean ran his own shaking hands down Karl's damp back, moved his lips to finally lick the water from those sculpted shoulders. Wet, hot, rich -- the taste, the feel of Karl enflamed him, flowed over him. So different than everything he was used to, and yet everything he ever wanted. Karl continued to stroke him, his hand steady, his movements sure. And his lips continued to tease Sean's flesh, his neck, his cheeks, to nuzzle in the soft hair of Sean's goatee. Water lapped over them, around them and the low light made everything seem vaguely dreamlike, not quite real. Except it was real, this was really Karl over him, this was Karl's hard body pressed against his, this was Karl's hand bringing him pleasure beyond anything he could have dreamed. Sean moved his mouth back to Karl's, drank in that addicting taste, moved his own hands to fill themselves with Karl's hard length. Just the feel of that satin smooth bit of skin under his was almost enough to send him over the edge. "You want to move things to the bed before they get messy?" Karl asked, lifting his head again and bestowing an intimate smile on Sean. "Yeah, the bed would be good." Karl under him, on those cool cotton sheets, sounded like a grand idea. Getting out of the tub and drying off took a bit longer than it probably should have, but that was fine, because Sean couldn't really get enough of touching Karl, and Karl apparently felt the same way. They finally tumbled on the rumpled sheets in a tangled heap, laughing against each other's throats as Sean bumped his thigh on the corner of the nightstand, cursing at the sting. But Karl's hands were soon moving over him again, and the laughter tapered off as need swept over him, sent him sinking into the mattress, with the taste of Karl once again in his mouth as Karl claimed him in a fierce kiss. Now Karl's hand gripped Sean's erection in a steady motion, now Karl's lips against his throat burned a path to his toes, now that hard body trembled as it pressed into his. No more lazy exploration, no more tentative touches...this was raw, untamed need. Sean feasted on every part of Karl he could find -- lips, shoulders, chest, arms -- everything made him hunger for more, every inch of Karl's skin was a banquet. Sean moved his hands back over toned flesh, across that supple back, the rippling abs, the still damp hair on Karl's groin and finally back over Karl's erection. He loved the feel of it, the pulse of it in his hand, loved that he could make Karl twitch and moan. Closer now, bodies straining toward each other, in each other's hands, they dropped all pretense of teasing and just gave. Karl leaned down, poured his soul into Sean's mouth, and Sean took it, gave it back, gave him his own. The kiss flowed on and on in needy licks and nips as they moved faster on each other, moved in time with each other, drove each other to the edge of madness with sure hands and soft lips. "We'll discover this together," Karl told him again, his voice a low, raspy whisper as he focused passion-filled hazel eyes on Sean. His hand moved faster, kept time with Sean's hand on him, and watching the flicker of emotions on Karl's face...pleasure, need, want, lust, greed...was so unbearably beautiful, like watching a sculpture come to life. And Sean was still watching when need finally overtook them and they both came, shuddering against each other, into each other. Sean felt as if he had run a marathon, or biked a 10k or something equally aerobic. He could not get enough air in his lungs as he just laid there, dazed and dazzled by this incredible orgasm. Never like this with anyone else, was his only thought. Karl was slumped over him, dark hair fanning across Sean's chest, face pressed against Sean's sternum as he hitched, sucked in air. And this too, was nice, it was cozy, friendly, just two friends entwined together, after sharing the most intense experience of Sean's varied, long life. And perhaps this was all it really boiled down to...basic need. Sean needed Karl. And Karl needed Sean. Everything else was secondary, nothing else mattered. "I'll get up in a minute and grab a towel," Karl said, his voice muffled against Sean's body, the reverberation delightful. "In a minute. Come up here, I need to tell you something." Karl lifted his head, focused grinning hazel eyes on him. "I hope it's something along the lines of, 'give me a minute and we can do this again, properly'." Sean laughed, because Karl always made him laugh, and tucked Karl's head in the crook of his shoulder and aligned their bodies so they were almost one. He dropped a kiss on Karl's forehead, rested his hands across broad shoulders. And thought to himself, yes, I am home. "I still don't have any answers." Karl leaned up to give him a quick kiss. "No one has answers. That's why it's life. But I will tell you that you're the closest thing I'm likely to get to one." He placed another soft kiss on Sean's lips and smiled. "Speechless?" "Maybe a little." "We can talk more later." Sean could have taken the easy way out of the conversation, but he didn't want this to be easy. He wanted it to be right. "No, I'll say this now, although it seems a bit redundant." He squeezed Karl's shoulders gently, looked up into the eyes of his friend. And saw everything he needed to see. "I will go with you on this journey," he whispered. "And I will be right beside you." After that, words seemed irrelevant. So, they stopped talking. Home, after all, needed no words.
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