Karl almost dropped his cell phone as he made his way through the produce section. "You're fucking me." "Nope," his agent chuckled, clearly delighted. "Peter Jackson called me himself. Said to tell you Harry made a fairly convincing argument for you." "Harry talked to Peter?" Karl picked up and discarded tomatoes, his mind not really on the groceries. His head was still buzzing. Eomer...he'd gotten the part. Thanks to Harry. "Apparently showed him a copy of "Price" and raved about your naturalistic approach." She sounded amused. "Did he really now?" Karl walked up to the cashier, set down his basket, transferred the phone to his other ear. "Guess I'll have to thank him next time I see him." "Most definitely. It's a plum role, Karl. And you didn't even have to audition." "I know." They talked of money and contracts and when he was supposed to show up in Wellington for rehearsals and training, and that occupied him until he got home and started to put up his groceries. Then the first part of his conversation with his agent started worrying his brain. Why would Harry have done that? Sure, they'd had a great time working together, but Karl hadn't thought he'd made that much of an impression. Karl tucked his tongue between his teeth, grabbed a bottle of water. This was a puzzle -- one he was determined to figure out. Harry had no reason to go to bat for him. To be honest, Karl couldn't even really remember talking about the impending "Rings" auditions with Harry, even though Karl, like everyone else, had wanted a shot at being a part of the production. It was the biggest thing to hit New Zealand, and Peter's insistence on using as much local talent as possible had been appreciated. And Karl had just been handed a major role without so much as a screen test or a meeting with any of the production staff or anything. He'd gotten the part of Eomer based solely on the fact that Peter trusted Harry's judgment that much. Why did Harry have that much faith in Karl? Bugger this, thinking about it was getting him nowhere except going around in circles. Karl walked out of the house, bringing his bottle of water with him. It was only a fifteen minute walk to Harry's place, Karl would just knock on the door and ask. Harry's house was a rambling, two-story affair a block away from the beach, and the cool, crisp air was heavy with the scent of salt and brine. The house itself was rustic and lived-in, with this lovely wrap-around porch that faced the ocean. Karl remembered many production meetings and cast get-togethers while filming "Price," watching the sun set while drinking port and sharing cigars with Harry and Lawrence. Remembered many late night conversations in Harry's kitchen, talking with Harry and sometimes Danielle on every subject under the sun. It had surprised Karl how much he'd liked talking to Harry, how much he enjoyed the quiet debates they'd had, enjoyed that Harry had a large vocabulary and wasn't afraid to use it. People who could use words like 'torsion' and 'fulminate' without sounding completely pretentious were rare indeed. Harry's car wasn't parked in front of the house, and no one answered when Karl knocked on the door. Well, he could use the key he'd never given back and let himself in, wait for Harry to come home. Harry had always opened himself and his house to his cast and crew, had always taken time to make sure they'd felt right at home. And yeah, it was six months later, but Karl didn't think Harry would mind. They were friends of a sort, still kept in touch, had lunch every odd week or so. Should be cool. "Hallo?" Okay, no answer, just checking. Karl walked through the living room, noting that it was still as messy as ever -- and the kitchen was still just as pristine. Karl was debating between waiting on the front porch or the living room so he could catch part of the footie match when he heard the sounds of water rushing through pipes. Alright, well, perhaps Harry was home, after all. Karl didn't really feel like interrupting Harry's shower, might be a bit awkward bouncing in on the man when he was all naked and soapy, so waiting in the living room it was to be. Stairs were right next to the sofa, he could call up as soon as Harry was done. * * * Harry liked to masturbate in the shower. It was clean, soap could not be a more sterile lube, there was no mess, no wet spot, no hassle. And he always had at least one orgasm a day. Couldn't beat it. He ducked his head under the spray, felt the hot water wash over him, the steady tattoo massaging his head, his neck. Cleansing, wet rivulets raced in a sheet down his neck, arms, back, chest, cock, thighs, calves, pooled at his feet before hitting the drain in a small whirl. Water just on this side of too hot, making his skin pink. Soap that smelled of lavender and hyacinth rubbed into his body, leaving him refreshed, clean. Harry liked his body, liked the clean lines of it, liked the solid muscularity of it. In pretty damn good shape for a forty year-old, even if he said so himself. He liked rubbing his hands over the muscles in his chest, biceps, loved the flex of his thighs, loved the curve of his calves. Self-love was an important part of mental health, and he was all about that. But, as always, the second Harry touched his dick, he thought about Karl. Thought about Karl and all that skin, writhing under him, burning for him. It had become something a bit more than an obsession. It was a ritual now. Shower, think about Karl naked, beat off. Part of his daily routine. And Harry couldn't think of anyone else while he was masturbating. Every time he tried, he'd find his mind drifting back to Karl's flawless skin and perfect mouth, and that would be it. He'd finally just stopped trying. Harry's soapy hand slid easily over his cock again and again, shrouding it in his fist, the hot water beating on his back a lovely accompaniment to his movements. Harry came thinking of Karl's lips wrapped around his cock, thinking of Karl's hair wrapped in his hands as he fucked Karl's mouth into oblivion, chanting Karl's name in a hoarse shout. This one was one of his favorite fantasies and always got him off quickly. Harry dried his body, briskly rubbing the towel over his hair, as he contemplated what to do about dinner. Could go out, but his car was in the shop, so he'd have to walk. Weren't too many decent places in the area, and he was a bit sick of the Thai place around the corner. Could phone in some food, that would be good. Or he could cook. Hadn't done that in awhile... He was still debating as he trotted down the stairs and saw his telly was on. Odd, he didn't remember leaving it on. He walked down the last three steps, tilting his head at the telly...very odd. "Hey, Harry, how's it goin'?" Harry whipped around so fast he almost fell. Why was Karl sitting on his sofa? Smiling at him? Was Harry dreaming again...another fantasy to add to his already considerable repertoire involving Karl? Harry grasped his sliding towel in one hand, narrowed his eyes. Karl certainly looked real enough, all comfortable and barefoot in shorts and a tank top, settled on his sofa with a glass of lager. His hazel eyes were friendly and open, his hair was a bit mussed, as if Karl had just run his fingers through it, which Harry knew Karl tended to do when he was thinking over things, and the look on his face was one of curiosity and friendship. And something else Harry couldn't quite place, but it wasn't overwhelming lust. And Karl hadn't immediately sunk to his knees in front of Harry to suck him off. Which meant it wasn't one of Harry's fantasies and Karl was really here. Which meant Karl might have heard Harry being rather vocal...in... Fuck. "Karl! What are you doing here?" Harry sincerely hoped he didn't look as embarrassed as he felt. He wrapped his towel a bit tighter around his hips, wishing he weren't quite so, well, naked really. Fuck. "I came to ask you a question," Karl replied, a small smile playing across those full lips. Don't think about the lips, don't look at the lips. "Which was?" Harry managed to croak out, rooted to his spot in the middle of the living room. Couldn't move if a herd of buffalo came tromping through. What was a stampede compared to Karl tucking his tongue between his teeth, giving Harry that same enigmatic look again? "Why did you get me the part of Eomer?" Ah well, Pete must have called. Of course Karl would be curious. Harry would have been, as well. Harry still couldn't explain why he lobbied so hard to get Karl the part, except that Eomer had always been Harry's favorite character from the books. He'd loved the man's impetuousness and loyalty and bravery. And lately he couldn't stop thinking of Karl in the role, Karl as a blond, hair whipping in the breeze as he rode into battle at Helm's Deep, Karl giving Eomer's stirring speech at Pelennor. Again, it had become something of an obsession. Thankfully, Peter had only heard the professional reasons Harry'd given. "You're a good actor," Harry finally replied, unable to look Karl in the eyes. He focused instead on the soft patch of skin just below Karl's neck. Which was worse. Harry wondered what it would taste like, all cream and satin under his tongue. "I thought you'd do justice to the role." "And that's the only reason?" Harry glanced up from his perusal of Karl's neck, met smiling hazel eyes that sparked with that indefinable something. Whatever it was, Harry was acutely aware of his body's response to it, aware that he was flushed and tense. And he kept eye contact with Karl just a second too long. "Yes." It was a bare whisper of a lie. "Hmm." Karl tapped a finger against his chin. Harry followed the movement of that finger, tried to will his feet to move, to walk into the kitchen, to walk up the stairs, to put on some clothes and come back down, ready to start again, this time without feeling so open and vulnerable. And naked. "You sure about that?" Karl asked. Sure about what? Oh, yeah, his reasons...sure he was sure. Of course he was sure. Said nothing, of course, as Karl got up from the sofa in one fluid movement, crossed the room, stopped millimeters in front of Harry. Too close, much too fucking close. Harry took a stumbling step back, and Karl followed, snaked out a hand to wrap around Harry's hip. "You absolutely sure?" Karl said against his ear, raspy voice drifting across his skin, body flush against his, arm secure on his hip, causing the towel to slide a bit. Not that Harry noticed. All he noticed were Karl's eyes...he finally was able to pinpoint the look in them. Curiosity. Friendship. Hunger. With a sigh that was part groan, Harry leaned forward, pressed his lips against Karl's, finally tasted that full mouth. And it was better than all of his masturbatory fantasies combined. Lush and sweet and equal...Karl pressed into the kiss, into Harry's body, slid his tongue between Harry's teeth, stopping to run it along the roof of Harry's mouth before twisting Harry's tongue with his own. Time froze, the universe suspended, the air stilled. All that moved were Karl's hands, sliding lower on Harry's hips, unknotting the towel so it fluttered to the floor, unnoticed, unneeded. Karl's mouth, still moving over Harry's in a kiss of such resplendent carnality that Harry thought he might just come from kissing alone, and would be completely satisfied. Karl's body rubbing against his, the soft cotton of Karl's tank top creating unbearable friction on the hairs of Harry's chest, the sliding nylon of Karl's shorts slippery and delicious against Harry's cock. Harry's fingers, finally moving, running under Karl's shirt to knead the perfect skin of Karl's back, muscle and bone hard beneath his hands. A kiss that lasted forever and yet not nearly long enough. Harry all but whimpered when Karl finally eased out of the kiss, ending it by slow degrees until their lips were a few inches apart. The distance was too much. Harry sought Karl's mouth again, was stopped when Karl shook his head. "Tell me why you told Peter to give me the part." The low, deep purr of Karl's voice vibrated along Harry's skin. And the look in Karl's beautiful eyes lured him into confessing his secret. "Because I've been in love with you for over a year now, and I wanted to give you something unique," Harry answered, finally allowing Karl to see past the guise of friendship. And praying he hadn't fucked things completely up between them. * * * Love? Karl stared deep into Harry's pure, brown eyes, searching for clues, answers. Why had Karl never seen this? Why had he not known? Over a year would put Harry being in love with him from practically the first day they'd met, before "Price", when Danielle had dragged Karl to the premiere of Harry's first film, and had introduced them at the party afterwards. Karl was still trying to come to terms with Harry even wanting him in a sexual way. The first chant of his name drifting down the stairs had knocked Karl flat. Harry was not groaning his name like that...okay, maybe he was. Repeatedly. Karl had felt like the worst sort of voyeur, the most perverse person in the world. But he'd been flattered. And curious. Why chant his name? Karl was nothing special, and Harry had to have his pick of people if he wanted sex. Then Harry'd come down the steps, tanned, muscled body covered in that tiny, white towel, and Karl's heart just stopped. Why had Karl never noticed the planes of Harry's very solid-looking chest lightly sprinkled with dark hairs? Why had Karl never noticed the angles of Harry's hips, the sturdy muscles of Harry's thighs, the curve of Harry's back, still damp with water? Karl'd had to dig his nails into his palm to keep from getting up to run his tongue along Harry's spine, catching those small droplets of water. Karl found himself wanting to get Harry to chant his name for real, to wring out moans and screams and pleas. Kissing Harry had been like diving into a deep, pure sea of hunger, the feel of Harry's lips, of Harry's tongue almost obscene in its heat. Karl had slipped along a narrow precipice, anchored to the earth by Harry's hands along his back, Harry's mouth wrecking his, Harry's hard, naked body rubbing against his, muscles and skin and bones pressing into him. Karl had wanted nothing more on this earth than to slide along that tanned skin until he'd memorized every minute inch with his hands and lips and eyes. Pulling away from the sweet intoxication of Harry's kiss had just about killed him. And Harry's confession floored him. "I never knew," Karl whispered, playing with the soft hairs on the back of Harry's neck. "Of course you didn't." Harry's reply was somewhat amused. His hands toyed with the hem of Karl's tank top and Karl shifted, allowed Harry to drag it over his head and to the floor. The way Harry's dark eyes worshipped Karl's naked chest was hardcore sexy, had Karl's dick so hard it was just shy of pain. "You could have said something, you know." Harry hooked his thumbs under the waistband of Karl's shorts, tugged them down, then off. And seized Karl's groan with a rough kiss when Harry's agile fingers closed around Karl's cock. "No, I couldn't," Harry replied when he lifted his head, voice ragged. Karl moved his mouth over the slope of Harry's shoulders, tasted the damp, slightly salty flesh, feasted on Harry's collarbone. God, how could he have been so fucking blind? Harry's warm skin under his lips was the most addicting taste...why had he never sampled it until now? He bent his head, captured the nub of Harry's pebble-hard nipple in his mouth, took savage pleasure in the way Harry pulled on his hair, holding him in place as he laved his tongue over the small nub, then the other, his mouth leaving damp trails over Harry's chest, marking it. He dropped to his haunches, continued his exploration, matted the soft trail of hairs on Harry's abdomen with his mouth, ran his teeth over Harry's hips, Harry's hands now massaging his head, the groans from Harry's lips the sweetest of sounds. Karl traced his lips over the jutting length of Harry's cock, felt the jump and tremor under his mouth, breathed moist air over Harry's balls, tongue flicking out to tease the sensitive crease between the sacs. "Shall I show you my appreciation for your gift?" he asked, gazing at Harry through lowered lashes. Harry's eyes seemed to punch a hole right through his soul, boring into him with a violent focus. A thousand thoughts seemed to flicker behind those eyes, and Karl wanted nothing more than to reassure Harry that he understood all Harry wasn't saying, understood the need that flushed Harry's skin, understood the trust Harry was placing in him. Karl didn't wait for an answer, wasn't sure Harry was capable of giving one...and, in any case, Harry's body answered for him when his hips thrust forward to meet Karl's lips as they closed around Harry's cock. Fucking sublime. Karl couldn't believe he'd waited this long to bury Harry's cock deep in his throat, couldn't believe he'd waited this long to move his mouth, his tongue, over all of the ridges and skin, couldn't believe he'd waited this long to have Harry inside him, Harry rocking his hips forward, hands fisted in Karl's hair as he fucked Karl's mouth in slow motion, cock sliding in and out with agonizing precision. One of Karl's hands cupped Harry's balls, massaging them with deft fingers, drawing forth a choked moan from low in Harry's throat. Lovely sound. Karl wanted to hear it again. He changed the angle of his mouth, relaxed his throat to take more of Harry's cock, heard that low moan again, felt it in his mouth, along the hand still kneading Harry's balls. Karl redoubled his efforts, determined to wring that sound from Harry's lips as many times as he could. And was rewarded when Harry started chanting his name in that same hoarse voice that Karl had first heard...yes, this was precisely what he wanted. Harry's cock, deep in his throat, Harry's hips firm under one hand, Harry's fingers digging into Karl's scalp, now holding him still for uncontrolled thrusts. Karl simply relaxed his throat a little more, widened his jaw, took as much of Harry as he could, running his tongue along the underside of Harry's erection with every push. Harry came in spasming bursts into Karl's mouth, body flexing and quaking under Karl's hands. Karl savored the taste on his tongue, mouth continuing to slowly suck and nibble Harry's cock until the last of the tremors wracked Harry's body. Harry sank to his knees in front of Karl, bruising lips on his in a shattering kiss as he pushed Karl on his back and covered Karl with his body. Karl met Harry's mouth with equal passion, abandoning skill and control for raw need, digging his nails into Harry's back, surging his chest upward to rub against Harry's, rubbing his still aching dick along Harry's hip. Mouths crushed, tongues fought, bodies strained...Karl felt violated and loved in the same breath and wondered again how he'd gone this long without this violent churning of emotions inside him. Harry lifted his head, eyes almost black with love and lust and need and so many other things that Karl couldn't even begin to count them all. But he'd love the opportunity to try. "Thank you," Harry smiled, resting his forehead against Karl's, the words warm along Karl's cheek. "Oh, you're very welcome." Karl couldn't wait to thank him again. Had a feeling it was going to take him the better part of the night to even scratch the surface of his gratitude. And not just for the part. But for everything. "I'm going to do my best for you," Karl said, kissing the corner of Harry's mouth. He hoped Harry heard his unspoken vow, heard the words he wasn't quite ready to say. Harry laced their fingers together, stretched them over Karl's head, aligning their bodies into total contact with each other. Karl could practically feel their pores mingling. "I'll be happy to return the favor," Harry answered, letting Karl know with a soft kiss that Harry understood everything. "So, exactly how often have you gotten off thinking about me?" Harry's cheeks turned pink, and the unexpected sight delighted Karl. Harry blushing...would wonders never cease? "Um. Well, to be honest, Karl, I can't count that high." Karl leaned up, licked Harry's throat, sucked on the slight stubble along Harry's jaw. "Well, you've got a lot of time to make up for, now don't you?" he asked, giving Harry a small wink. "Yeah, I guess I do," Harry replied with a wink of his own. "And I think I'll start right about...here." Harry closed his hand around Karl's cock again as he captured Karl's lips in another kiss that plunged them both into insatiable need.
|