He took a deep breath, composed his features, composed his thoughts. It had taken him time, maybe too much of it, to get here, to get to the point where he could do this. He looked around the small set it was a small film, independently financed, the sort of film that Orlando himself was interested in making these days and finally stepped into the small makeup trailer. He immediately wanted to step back out. No amount of mental coaching had been enough to prepare him for his first real sight of Karl in over six months. Orlando stopped just inside the door unnoticed hungry gaze drinking in the sight before him. Karl's head was tilted back, his eyes closed; he looked completely relaxed in the makeup chair as an assistant dusted his face with powder. He looked lean and healthy, long legs molded by a pair of well-worn jeans, that broad chest that Orlando loved so much hidden by a bright blue t-shirt. His hair was short again, shorter than the last time Orlando had seen him, and Orlando spent a moment remembering what Karl's hair had felt like when he'd fisted it, held it in a tight grip as they'd shared kiss after passionate kiss. More memories flickered through his brain the taste of Karl's skin under his tongue, the sound of Karl's laughter in his ear, the way their bodies had fit perfectly together when they'd fallen asleep, tangled and close lightning fast. And just as deadly. He wasn't strong enough to do this. He turned to leave and found hazel eyes staring back at him. "Hullo, Orlando." Karl's voice was friendly enough, but polite. Distant. As if he and Karl had never shared a history, bodies, souls. As if Karl really didn't know why Orlando was here, proverbial hat in hand, heart in his throat. "Hi, Karl." The words were choked out. He couldn't think of anything else to say, so he just shuffled further into the room. "Claire, could you give us a minute?" "Sure." Claire flashed a smile at Orlando on her way out the door, and Orlando returned it wanly. The silence after the door shut was deafening. The tile floor under Orlando's feet was a fascinating pattern. "Didn't expect I'd see you again," Karl finally said, breaking the almost physical spell. "I know. I'm sorry." It was all Orlando could think to say. "I hated you for a long time after." Karl fiddled with the handle of one of the makeup brushes. Orlando watched and tried not to think about the memory of those hands gliding over his bare skin. "But I guess I...got over it. Hating you was never gonna fix what was." "I'm sorry," Orlando repeated, hating the inadequacy of the words the second he said them. "I believe you." "Why didn't you...y'know, fight for me?" Orlando asked, surprising himself with the question. Karl seemed equally surprised. "Fight who?" he asked. "Fight what? Him? By the time I even realized he was a threat, it was too late. The damage was done, and I'd already lost." "I didn't mean to hurt anyone." "Maybe not. But it doesn't change anything." Orlando fought the urge to fidget under the weight of Karl's stare. Fought it as long as he could, even though he knew it was a losing battle. He was Orlando fucking Bloom, for fuck's sake. Fidgeting was ingrained in him much like his love of fresh cherries and how he always licked his fingers before turning the page of his books or scripts. I fidget, therefore I am. Or something like that, anyway. "It is good to see you," he insisted, just to have something to say. "Been a long time," Karl said. Orlando could have given him the number of days, and possibly minutes, if asked. He took another step closer, then closer still until he was right by Karl's chair, staring into those beautiful eyes. Karl's eyes had been the first thing that Orlando had really noticed back when they'd first met they were gold and green-flecked with amazingly long lashes that would have looked feminine on any other man. The thought that Karl would never look at him again with love or lust or even simple affection spurred him towards recklessness. No time like the present to do what he'd come to do. Orlando ducked his head and peered up at Karl through half-parted lids. A sultry, come-hither look patented and perfected in secondary school, one that had never failed him. One that couldn't fail him now. "Orlando..." He ignored the warning in Karl's voice. "Don't make me spell it out," he murmured. "I " Karl licked his lips, a brief flash of tongue darting out, and Orlando followed its path with a hungry gaze. "I think you'd better." "Isn't it obvious?" Orlando brushed his lips along the shell of Karl's ear, trembled at his first taste in over six months, felt the answering tremor run through Karl's body. "I'm here for you." Karl shivered again, the moan catching low in his throat. "Are you certain?" Hazel eyes probed deep, searched Orlando's. "Are you certain you want this?" Was he? Was he strong enough to try again, to lay himself open, to do what he hadn't had the courage to do the first time around? "Orlando?" He returned the look, felt the warmth of Karl's hand over his, the promise it held. "Yes," he stated, giving each word the weight it deserved. "Yes, I'm sure." "Well, I'm not," Karl replied, promptly, and the matter-of-fact tone was worse than a slap to the face. "You thought you could just waltz in here, put everything back together? Put us back together?" "No, that's not...I don't..." Orlando stopped, cleared his throat. "I just...I just wanted to let you know I still love you," he finally said. "I always did." "You just loved him more." "It wasn't like that." And it hadn't been, not really. Not once he'd stopped to truly think about what he was doing. "It doesn't matter what you call it," Karl said, and Orlando could tell he was fighting to keep his voice even. "Fact is, you still fucked him while you were with me. And the stupidest thing is, I would have let you go. I would have stepped aside. You think it was a secret that you wanted him more than you wanted me?" "Karl, I..." "I loved you enough that I would have let you go." "I didn't want you to let me go, alright." That was the last thing he'd ever wanted. "I never wanted you to let me go." "How'd you think this was going to end, then? That, what, I'd turn a blind eye once I found out?" "I don't know, alright, I wasn't fucking thinking when I did it," Orlando snapped, then stopped himself. Losing his temper wouldn't change anything. Wouldn't change what he'd done or why he'd done it. "Tell me you're happy and I'll leave." "I'm happy." "You're lying." "And you're the expert?" "You're lying," Orlando repeated. He leaned forward, close enough that he could feel the heat radiating from Karl through the layers of clothing. "It was...this was always about you," he said, in the softest, most serious voice he could muster. "Why're you here?" Karl asked, sounding weary, broken. "Because you're not happy." The backs of Orlando's fingers grazed Karl's jaw, tracing a once-familiar path. "And neither am I." "I don't " "Too old to lie, remember," Orlando smiled, the motion tremulous. "So don't. Because one thing we've never been is dishonest. You do want this. Want me. Just as much as I want you." "But you said you weren't..." "I lied to you. I've been lying to you for years. What should I have said? I've always been in love with you, even when I was trying to convince myself that I was just whiling away the time with you while waiting for him to notice me." "Our time's past." Gentle fingers stroked Orlando's throat, and Orlando shivered under the touch, under the certainty of Karl's words. "If we ever had one." "Give us a chance," Orlando pleaded, meaning the words with everything in him. He couldn't fail. The alternative was too terrible to contemplate. "Give me a chance. Let me make it up to you." "Orlando..." Karl brushed a kiss across Orlando's lips. "I'm not what you want. You want...an idea. Of what we might've been." "Why're you so afraid of this?" "You don't know what you " "Don't do this." "And I'm too old to " "Don't do this." And with that, Orlando pulled Karl to him for a hard, blistering kiss. For a second, Karl made a move to pull away, but then he grabbed a handful of Orlando's hair and his teeth scrapped Orlando's lips as the kiss deepened. Orlando tilted his head, tasted the familiar burn, the love that was always there, now tainted with regret. "Please," he whispered against Karl's lips, afraid if he raised his voice that Karl would pull away, pull back, that he'd wake up and realize this was just another dream. "Please." "Orlando..." Orlando closed his eyes against the resignation in Karl's voice. He had no one but himself to blame. Slowly, he pulled back, away from the warmth, away from Karl. "I'm sorry," he murmured. He couldn't look at Karl, couldn't bear to face the pity he knew he'd find. "It was worth a shot, y'know." "I just need some time to think things through." It wasn't an outright rejection. Orlando clung to that. "Take all the time you need." "Orlando " This time, Orlando looked up. Karl's eyes were kind, instead of pitying, filled his vision, before Karl's lips brushed over his in a light kiss. "If we do this and I cannot stress the if strong enough but if we do..." "Whatever you want." Orlando knew he was begging, but he didn't care. What did pride matter without Karl? "You set the rules." "No." "No?" "We set them together," Karl replied. "No relationship works if one person holds all the cards." Orlando nodded. "So..." "So we'll see where we go from here," Karl smiled, a slight curve of lips, but still there. Orlando returned it, clung to the hope it represented. It wasn't perfect by a long shot, but it was a beginning. Orlando would take what he could get.
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