"'Lo?" "Hey, Karl. How's things?" "Annoying." Orlando could hear shuffling, then a door shutting. "I think there's a conspiracy to keep me in L.A. My meeting with CAA has been pushed back 'til Thursday." "Ouch. Well, look at it this way, at least now you can come over." "Orlando Bloom, are you asking me out?" It was easy to laugh at Karl's exaggerated feminine pitch. "Nah, just a bit of company. You're lucky I'm crawling out of bed." "What makes you think I'd want you to?" Karl asked lightly, and Orlando could just feel the blush start at his toes and work its way up. He was supposed to be over this. Over blushing and flirting. His heart was a closed book. Wasn't it? "Please, Karl, some dignity." "I'm from New Zealand, we don't do dignified. We save that for you uptight British lot." "Rightright." Orlando clutched the phone tighter, suddenly so homesick for the verdant greens and brilliant blues of the New Zealand coastline that he had to blink back unexpected tears. "You, um, please come over. I need to see someone familiar." "You got it," Karl replied softly. No questions, no demands. So very Karl, and Orlando could breathe again. "Thanks." "Give me five minutes to find my shoes in this mess of a room and I'll be on my way." Orlando didn't even question why he couldn't stop smiling as he headed downstairs to unlock the door for Karl's arrival. * * * Orlando woke up gasping for air, already rolling out of the hands intent on tickling him to death. Not a very dignified way to go at all. "Mmphfuck, KARL!" The effect of the shout was somewhat lessened by his body's sudden decision to slide off the sofa, landing with a thud on the floor. Karl stood over him, haloed by the living room lamp, grinning that crooked grin of his that never failed to make Orlando's lips curve, no matter how annoyed he was. "That looks uncomfortable," Karl said. "'Course it's uncomfortable, I'm on the bloody floor," Orlando groused, tugging his t-shirt down where it had ridden up his stomach. "Now help me up." "No manners," Karl lamented, but did as asked, pulling Orlando off the floor and pushing him back to the sofa, flopping beside him. The denim of Karl's jeans scratched comfortably over Orlando's bared calf. "Now, why'm I here and not in my hotel room watching bad porn and jerking off to bouncing breasts?" "Because I'm more fun than watching bad porn?" Orlando said, settling happily in the crook of Karl's shoulder. When Karl closed an arm around his waist, Orlando almost embarrassed himself by purring. Karl smelled of sandalwood and citrus, warm and familiar. New Zealand wrapped in over six feet of solid muscle and a warm smile. "Sometimes you are." Karl smiled down at Orlando's upturned face, brushing a curl from Orlando's forehead. "So, what'd you have in mind for competition?" "Um, no clue, really. Mind's a blank." Karl made a show of feeling Orlando's forehead. "Who are you and what've you done to my Orli? You always have crazy ideas." Orlando chuckled as he pushed the hand off, snuggling back into Karl's embrace. "Very funny. I can be quiet, you know." "Yeah, uh huh. Since when?" Orlando looked up into friendly hazel eyes and, for a moment, memories threatened to overwhelm him. "Since six months ago," he replied, the words muffled. "Right." Karl tipped Orlando's chin up with a gentle caress. His smile was tinged with sadness. "Has it been that long?" "Yeah." Six months, three weeks, two days, and nine hours. Not that he was, y'know, counting or anything. Karl lifted Orlando's hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss across knuckles scraped raw. "Seems like another lifetime, doesn't it?" "It was another lifetime." Another glorious lifetime, never to be repeated. Fuck. "I saw Dom the other day," Karl said after a long moment of awkward silence. "Yeah?" Orlando tried to muster up some curiosity. "How's he doing?" "He's good. Seeing a very nice British girl right now, doing some horrid little independent film. Said to give you a wet, smacking kiss." Orlando chuckled in spite of his best efforts to wallow in his misery. "Did he?" "Yeah. I told him I'd be happy to be the messenger." Orlando gave Karl an exasperated smile to cover up his blush. Twice in one night. Only Karl. "Bet you would, too." "You're extremely talented with your mouth," Karl said, his smile enigmatic as he tucked a stray curl behind Orlando's ear. Orlando shivered, leaning into the soft touch before he could stop himself. Stupid, stupid. "How's Hunter?" he asked, wincing at how breathless he sounded. "He's brilliant." Karl's smile changed once again, became something of paternal adoration. "He's into everything and has decided he wants to be Spiderman when he grows up." "Sounds lovely." Orlando put his head back on Karl's shoulder, played with the buttons of Karl's faded cambray shirt. "You're lucky to have him." "Yeah, I am." Karl's lips were soft on Orlando's forehead. "It is getting easier, right?" he asked, softly. "Yeah. Most days." Orlando closed his eyes, breathed in Karl's scent, and tried to focus on the positive. "Giving up hope on a few things, but I'm doing alright for the most part." "Weren't you the one that told me once to never give up hope?" Orlando poked Karl's side. "No fair using my words against me." Karl nipped at the end of Orlando's finger and grinned when Orlando's eyes flew open. "Don't do that or I'll tickle you again." "And what if I wanted you to?" Karl's eyes narrowed. "Careful, I'm better at this seductive thing than you." "Are not!" So easy to slip into the banter, the push and pull of uncomplicated conversation, the camaraderie. "I'm a one-man seductive machine, thank you! Best of the best." "You are, huh?" Karl grinned, showing a glimpse of teeth. "Thought you thought that Viggo was the best at everything." "He is." Orlando poked Karl again, hand moving over Karl's stomach when he squirmed. "Hell, he's Viggo." "Well, yeah, thought we'd established that." Karl placed his hand over Orlando's, stilling it from worming even deeper under Karl's shirt. "But he's really not the best at everything." "He's not, huh?" Orlando looked into Karl's eyes, caught his breath. Karl's reply was a mere whisper. "You're better in bed." "I-I am?" "Mmhmm." Karl leaned back on the sofa, rested his head against the wall. "Sad, innit, that I remember every detail?" "Not really." Orlando scooted closer, fingertips grazing over Karl's eyebrows. "It was pretty memorable. Liv's sofa, you tasting of tequila..." "I even remember what you were wearing." "Hell, man, I don't even remember what I was wearing," Orlando said, blinking in surprise. "Leather jacket, that bright blue and yellow t-shirt and those faded to hell black jeans." A private smile flitted across Karl's face. "Felt like butter under my hands." "Me or the jeans?" Anything to keep the conversation moving. Anything not to reach over and find out if Karl tasted as good as he remembered. "The jeans." Karl chuckled, the sound low, rich, like bittersweet chocolate. "You don't taste anything like butter." "So what do I taste like?" Why, oh why, was he doing this to himself? Karl leaned forward and bent his head, hair falling in a curtain across his face as his tongue peeked out to sample Orlando's neck. "Almond," Karl said, as Orlando shivered. "Just like I remembered." His lips trailed along Orlando's adam's apple, warm and moist, and Orlando parted his lips when Karl brushed his tongue over them. "And your lips still taste of clove." Orlando swallowed, torn between scooting back and pressing forward. "You, um, remember all that?" "Mmhmm." For a second, something loomed, dark and dangerous in Karl's eyes and Orlando lost his breath, heart leaping in his chest. The seconds seemed to stretch until there was nothing except here and now and this unnamed thing snarling between them. The next moment, Karl was back on the other side of the sofa, smile as open and friendly as ever. "Yeah, I'm better at it than you." "Than what?" Orlando asked stupidly, trying to remember where his lungs were. "Being seductive." "Karl!" Orlando narrowed his eyes, the spell broken. "You cheated. I wasn't even trying." "Yeah, I know." Orlando flopped back on the cushions, raking over Karl with a mock-contemptuous glare. "You wait, I'll so get you back for this." "'Course you will." Karl stood, looming over Orlando and pressing another kiss to his forehead. "I'm headed out. Sleep well." "Wanker," Orlando replied affectionately, watching the play of Karl's muscles as he walked out the door. The sheer nerve, setting him up, then walking away like it hadn't...even...affected, and whoa, wait a minute. Orlando frowned in concentration, glanced again at Karl's end of the sofa. Karl, all relaxed and smiling...with a very impressive erection behind the zipper of his jeans. "Motherfuck..." Orlando breathed, standing up. If he was lucky, he'd beat Karl back to his hotel.
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