Orlando toasted the neatly lined row with his own full one. "Gave his life for a good cause." "That he did." Karl fished around in the cooler, sloshed icy water over the sides in a careless sweep before grinning in triumph. "Found another recruit." "Good man." Orlando flopped his head on Karl's shoulder, stretched denim-clad legs along the table. "Remember when we used to do this while camping?" "Yeah. Good times, good times." "Miss it." "The filming or the getting piss drunk?" "The everything." Orlando tilted his head back, eyes round with the serious concentration of the truly drunk. "Like, the freedom. Friendships." "We're still friends." "Yeah, but it's not the same. Remember that one time when me and you and Vigs went swimming in that one lake?" "You and Viggo, you mean." Karl tapped Orlando's nose with a wide, white grin. "Too fucking cold to freeze my balls in that water." "You didn't go in?" "Nope. Faulty memory, mate. Hear that happens when you wank too much." "So why aren't you an autistic savant, then?" Orlando grinned around his next swallow of piss-warm beer. Better than nothing. "Trying to woo me with big words, eh?" Karl shoved Orlando away with a playful nudge. "Won't work, I'm not that easy." "Been there, done that." "Since when?" Karl asked, eyes narrowing. "You been molesting me in my sleep?" "No, course not." Orlando shifted on the sofa, thigh pressed against Karl's, warmth seeking warmth. "Don't need to, with the way you kissed me that one time." "I kissed you?" Karl blinked owlishly, and his eyes looked even larger -- if such a thing were possible -- behind the wire frames of his reading glasses. "Where was I?" "The wake Lij threw for my break-up." "Mate, you've completely lost it." Karl pushed a shaggy lock of hair from his face. "That was Mir groping on Marton in the bathroom." "It was?" "Yeah." "Fuck, maybe there is something to this wanking business." Orlando frowned again. Nah, it had happened, right? Why else would he so clearly recall what Karl tasted like? "You sure?" "Yeah, I'm sure." Karl ruffled Orlando's hair, curls springing against his fingers. "I'd remember kissing a bloke." "Oh." Orlando thought about that for a minute while polishing off his beer. "Wanna?" "Wanna what?" "Y'know." Orlando shrugged, the movement stretching bright yellow across his chest. "Make it memory." "Make it...oh." Karl stared hard at his bottle for a minute, like he was consulting runes or some equally mystic weirdness. "You, um...wanna?" Christ, they'd go 'round like this all night unless someone did something. So, Orlando did. Leaned over, pressed his lips to Karl's, felt them part in surprise, and used the opening to push his tongue past Karl's teeth. And maybe this hadn't happened before, because Karl didn't taste of peaches -- more of beer and coconut or something equally sweet -- but it didn't matter. Because Karl's firm lips sliding over his and warm tongue darting around his was much better than some half-remembered false memory. When Karl leaned back, glasses slightly smudged, hair even more of a mess, Orlando had somehow wound up in his lap, thighs draped on either side of Karl's hips. Orlando thought he should wonder how the hell he'd gotten there, but then Karl shifted and, ohyeah, forget why. Because that didn't need an explanation. "Think my memory would come back if I gave up wanking myself and starting wanking someone else?" Orlando asked, hand slipping between them to rub over the bulge behind Karl's zipper. "Maybe." Muted groan followed by Karl's hands spasming on Orlando's hips. "Good deed and all." "Regular Samaritan, that's me." Orlando smiled, licking a path up the cream of Karl's throat. More coconut. Orlando had a sudden craving for Pina Coladas and tiny paper umbrellas. "Orlando?" "Hmmm?" Came out all distracted like because Karl chose that moment to grind up, hands worming under Orlando's shirt. "This isn't going to be much of a memory if you insist on talking." And Orlando had to smile at that, he really did, even as the heavy rasp of the zipper filled the room when Orlando slid it down and slipped his hand under Karl's boxers. Smiled again at Karl's soft gasp when his fingers found warm, hard flesh. "Not another word," he promised, starting a slow rhythm.
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