I saw him first... He tapped Dom on the shoulder and waited. The tinny sounds of "Good Day Sunshine" blasting out of the speakers could be heard for just a second, then Dom turned off his CD player. "Wassup?" Dom asked. Like there was nothing wrong, like nothing had happened. "That's what I want to know," Orlando replied, crossing his arms. "What are you talking about?" "You and Karl? Kissing each other in the food tent like the world was ending? Ringing any bells here, mate?" Dom flushed, looked taken aback. Good, Orlando thought. He should be embarrassed. I saw him first... "So, you saw that, then?" Dom asked. "Yeah, me and everyone else. I don't think everyone else saw your hand on his cock, though." If possible, Dom's cheeks went even redder. "You lied to me." "Yeah, I did," Dom admitted, twirling a finger through his wig absently. "I'm sorry, mate. It isn't something I want to talk about." "And what about last week? You acting all off and going to Karl's all the time? Wanna talk about that?" "Not especially, no." "What the fuck is going on here?" "I don't know." Dom laughed a little, but there was no mirth in it. "I really don't." Orlando dropped down to his haunches, balanced on the balls of his feet. He looked Dom straight in the eyes -- those pretty, grey eyes -- trying to find any emotion and only finding a blank wall. "We're still friends, right? Still mates? Tell me what's going on." "I can't." Dom shook his head resolutely. "It's private. Personal." "Too personal to share with me?" Orlando had no idea why that hurt so much, but it did. He felt wounded, stabbed. "You have to trust me..." Dom began, stopped. He shrugged, his eyes filled with some indescribable emotion. "Maybe I should just ask Karl what's going on." Orlando said the words hoping to coax a reaction, but was completely unprepared for the intensity of it. Dom grabbed his arm, clamping down. "Don't." The single word was harsh, filled with...fear? Why fear? "Don't go near him? Why not? Why shouldn't I? You afraid I might win this bet after all?" I saw him first... The mantra repeated, over and over, like a refrain that never ended. "This isn't about the bet," Dom said. "I'm telling you not to go there." Orlando carefully removed Dom's hand from his arm, ignoring the slight bruise. "Don't tell me where to go. I will do as I please...unless, of course, you tell me why I need to stay away." Dom just shook his head, stayed mute. "That's your choice, then." Orlando stood up, gazed down at Dom, disappointed. "When you're ready to talk, I'll be here. Until then, I'm finding Karl." And saying that, he strode off. Billy walked up, saw Orlando stomp to find his place on the rocks. "What's up with 'im?" Dom shrugged. He didn't want to talk about it. The thought of Orlando and Karl together had shaken him more than he cared to admit. Yeah, it was part of the bet that they try to outdo each other, but it had gone far beyond that for Dom. And that scared him. None of this was supposed to be serious. But it was hard to remember that whenever he was around Karl...whenever he thought of Karl, whenever he imagined those eyes going dark with desire for him. Peter called the main actors back to their places, and Dom set down his headphones. Billy stepped beside him as they walked to their marks. "You comin' out with us to the pub tonight?" Billy asked. "We've missed you these past few days." And that was the main difference between Billy and Orlando -- Billy didn't pry. And suddenly, Dom missed his friends. It would do him good to spend a night away from Karl, do him some good to drink with his mates. He refused to admit, even to himself, that he was afraid Orlando might get to Karl. Didn't care to admit to himself he might be jealous. "Sure, I'll be there," he said aloud. "Good. Everyone's comin' out tonight. Think Bean's even talked Viggo into having a pint with the lads." This would be good. It would be normal. It would be like the way things used to be. Dom wondered why that didn't quite have the same appeal it should. * * * It was at the end of the day when Orlando finally saw Karl. The other man was coming out of make-up just as Orlando was getting ready to go in. "Can I talk to you?" "If you must." "Privately." Karl looked at him for a moment, just long enough for Orlando to get lost in those beautiful eyes. They really were something else. "Come on then." Karl led him to the trailer he shared with Viggo. Viggo wasn't there, however. Probably still chatting with Peter about the history of the Second Age of Elves or whatever. For a man who'd come into the movie so late, he'd turned out to be the biggest Tolkien geek of them all. "Well?" Karl leaned against his dressing table -- all lazy, lethal grace in faded jeans and an equally faded t-shirt -- and just stared at him. Now that he had Karl all to himself, Orlando was at a curious loss for words. He was acutely aware that he was still in his long blond wig, still in his leggings and tunic, still had his ears on. He felt ridiculous. He shouldn't feel ridiculous. He had just as much right to do this as Dom did. So, he just went with his natural instinct, crossed the room and brought Karl's head down to his for a thorough kiss. Wow...Karl had the softest lips. Orlando explored a little more, tasting, taking. He didn't notice until a minute later that Karl wasn't responding at all. He was just standing there, letting Orlando kiss him. "What is wrong with you?" Orlando asked, drawing back. "How can you just stand there like that? You'll kiss Dom like there's no tomorrow, and I don't even get a glimmer?" Karl smiled, and some indefinable emotion flitted across his face. "I'm sorry, Orlando, I forgot." He reached out, brought Orlando back to him with a gentle touch. This time, Karl initiated the kiss. His lips parted Orlando's, tongue expertly sliding and curling, tempting and teasing, for an all-too-brief handful of moments. Orlando ached from just that small taste. "Poor Orlando. Everybody wants the pretty Elf." With each husky word, Karl's fingers grazed softly across Orlando's forehead, cheekbones, throat. Orlando fought to catch his breath. "So perfect, so beautiful. So irresistible." The whisper in his ear made him lean closer. "So used to having everyone at your beck and call." More gentle touches, stealing reason and thought. "So nosy." Karl's strong hand closed around Orlando's throat. His eyes snapped open. He struggled to remove Karl's hand, to breathe. "Listen to me and listen carefully." Karl's hand slowly squeezed. Orlando gasped, tried to draw air into his lungs, couldn't. Dark, sinful eyes bored right into him. "You don't want to do this," Karl said, tone completely conversational. "And if you persist in these delusions, I won't go as easy on you next time." Dark spots appeared in front of Orlando's eyes. He could feel himself beginning to black out. And just as he started to sink to the floor, Karl let go of him and stepped back. Orlando staggered, sucked in huge lungfuls of air, gasping, coughing. He bent over and wheezed, massaging the marks on his neck where Karl's fingers had been, and sank into the chair behind him. "Why're..." Orlando coughed, struggled to force words out of his aching throat "...you...doing this?" "Because I can." Karl smiled, but there was no warmth behind it. "Isn't that what you want to hear? That I'm doing this for fun, for amusement, to pass the time?" He dropped to his haunches, reached out. And grinned for real when Orlando flinched. "Shh, pretty Elf, I'm not going to hurt you." The softest of touches grazed Orlando's throat. "It would be easier for you, wouldn't it, if I had some agenda, some hidden purpose?" He kept stroking, soothing the bruises with feather-light touches. Orlando instinctually leaned into the caress. And hated himself for doing it. "There is no agenda," Karl told him, looking him right in the eyes. And Orlando believed him. "What is between Dominic and myself will stay that way. Are we clear on that?" "Crystal," Orlando whispered, voice still raspy. "Good." Karl dropped his hand and stood back up. The kiss he placed to the top of Orlando's head was brief, almost paternal. "I'll see you on set tomorrow." He strolled out of the room, whistling like he'd just had a friendly bit of conversation. Orlando slumped back in his chair, too drained to move. Or think. But he managed to find strength enough to pray. Onto Part Twelve
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