Karl's gaze flickered to Orlando for a second, then snapped back to the TV. His fingers flew over the PS2 controls as he maneuvered his car through an alley to avoid capture. Fucking cops, man, this game would be so much more fun without them. "What're you on about?" "I'm hopeless," Orlando said again, like repetition and clarity were the one and the same. "This is news?" Karl asked absently, and careened around another corner, tires squealing in protest. Orlando nudged Karl's knee hard enough that his grip on the control slipped and his car went crashing into a wall. Karl leveled his best glare Orlando's way. He couldn't believe Orlando had sunk so low. "The fuck, mate?" "Stop being a prick and pay attention," Orlando replied, and waved a hand at the TV. "I'm having actual, real life drama here." Karl tactfully (he thought) didn't point out that Orlando and Dom were the ones that had gotten him hooked on GTA, so Orlando was a fine one to talk about real life issues. "I'm sorry, princess, would you like me to fetch you a glass of wine and rub your feet while you tell me what's troubling your poor, wee brain?" "Would you, that'd be aces," Orlando grinned, unrepentant and wide. Karl just rolled his eyes and paused the game. May as well – it wasn't like he was going to get to play again until Orlando'd had his freak out or whatever it was. "Spit it out before I beat you." "Like you could," Orlando scoffed, then swiped a handful of popcorn from the full bowl on the coffee table. "Anyways, it's Harry." "Fuck me," Karl groaned and thunked his head against the back cushions. It fucking figured. And, really, he shouldn't have been surprised. Orlando hadn't been able to talk about much else other than Harry for the last few weeks – ever since the day Karl had made the mistake of introducing them to each other, in fact. Thank God Karl's own single days were long behind him – the entire dating ritual sucked balls, and not in a fun way. "You honestly have turned into a girl," he commented, shaking his head. "How the mighty have fallen." "Fuck off, just because he's your mate..." "How many times do I have to tell you, I'm not setting you up with him." Honestly, there were days when he felt like being on a film set was like being right back in high school. "If you want to ask him out, do it yourself." "Well, I would if I could get him alone for five bloody minutes," Orlando groused, jabbing a piece of popcorn in Karl's general direction. "Which is where I'd like you to come in, actually." Oh, well, this was more like it. Karl could appreciate subterfuge and ruses and using sneaky tactics to get what you wanted – it was the whinging about wanting to get Harry alone and rhapsodizing about Harry's shoulders and how nice Harry's legs looked in a pair of shorts that was driving Karl mental. He didn't care if Orlando and Harry buggered each other six ways to Sunday and twice the rest of the week, he was tired of the talking and not acting. "Ah, I see. You want me to distract Viggo from monopolizing Harry's time," he guessed, because if there was anyone with an even bigger girly crush on Harry than Orlando, it was Viggo. (Personally, Karl didn't get it – shouldn't everyone on set be trying to get under Liv's skirts and not in his slightly crazy best mate's pants – but to each his own, that's what he always said. And, when he really thought about it, he knew Orlando would be much better for Harry than Viggo – Harry needed someone to get him out of his head and out of the house, not someone encouraging his more bizarre flights of fancy. And the last thing Viggo needed was the care and feeding of someone as odd as him.) "I knew you were smarter than you looked," Orlando grinned. It looked slightly greasy from all the butter. Karl batted the back of Orlando's head. Cheeky kid, it was a wonder they were friends. "What do I get out of it?" he asked. Altruism didn't come cheap, so his mum was always fond of saying. Smart woman, his mum. "Other than my undying gratitude and the knowledge that two of your friends will be very well shagged?" Karl held his thumb and forefinger up and spread them apart an inch. "I might need just a wee bit more incentive." "Case of Emerson 1812?" Orlando offered, with a hopeful smile. "That's more like it," Karl agreed, with his own grin, glad that the matter was settled and they could all get back to the more important matters of life. "Now, either grab a controller or bugger off. I've got a criminal empire to build." "Fire up the game, I'll grab us some pints," Orlando said, and set off for the kitchen to no doubt pilfer all of Karl's lager. Good thing Karl was in a mood to be generous.
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