"It's 6 bloody A.M.," Orlando mumbled, glancing at the alarm clock beside his bed. "You sleepin'?" "I was." "Why'd you have to go off and do a silly thing like that? It's Christmas." Orlando rubbed a hand over his eyes and scooted up, sheets pooling in his lap. "Precisely. It's Christmas and I have the day off and I can." "Not good enough," Karl laughed. "Get dressed. I'll be there in ten." Ten? "Hey, wait --" The phone clicked, and Orlando stared at it in amused annoyance. He didn't bother to call Karl back. With a muttered sigh (and a few well-placed curses), Orlando rolled out of bed. On a perfectly good day off, no less. A perfectly good day off when he didn't have to be up at the butt-crack of dawn for filming or make-up or any other bloody thing that involved this shoot. A shoot that was currently keeping him away from his family and England and snow and Christmas trees and caroling and the Yuletide festival that his mum always dragged him and his sister to every year. Great, Orli, just fucking fabulous. Go off and get yerself depressed when you swore you wouldn't. Halfwit. Yeah, that was him, alright. Captain Idiocy. Just buy him a cape and some tights...oh, wait. He already had those, didn't he? And the long, flowing, super-hero locks to go with. Somehow, though, Captain Elf didn't have the same, um, flow as Captain Halfwit. 'Course, the Hobbits would kill him for ripping on them. Best to scrap the idea altogether and get dressed. Since he only had, um, three minutes. Karl was many things -- late wasn't one of them. Orlando often thought he was the only Kiwi on the island who had a sense of time. A quick sniff to make sure his jeans could stand another wear, and Orlando pulled them on, followed by one of his signature, hot pink t-shirts. Hey, someone had to wear the colour, why not him? It was festive enough for this time of the morning. And he could use all the festivity he could get right now. He spent a minute tossing aside piles of clothes in a frantic search for his flops, then remembered they were downstairs, along with his wallet and keys. Fuck, but he needed a secretary. And he really needed to get the fuck out of his head before he started thinking again. Thinking about the fact that the grass was too green when he stepped outside, that the breeze was too soft, that there were fucking flowers in full-on bloom, ferfuckssake, and this wasn't right. Orlando shielded his eyes, sprawled on the top step of his porch, when the sedan pulled up into his drive, and managed a smile when Karl unfolded himself from the driver's seat, all long legs and wide smile. Ah, well, the place may be backwards and all, but the eye candy held considerable appeal. "Merry Christmas," Karl smiled, dropping a kiss on Orlando's forehead as he settled on the step below. "Doesn't feel like it." "Sun's shining, birds are singing, waves are perfect for a surf...feels like Christmas to me." Orlando wanted to be annoyed. Truly. But, in the face of that open, easy grin, he found it impossible. He wondered just how many people Karl had fleeced with that smile. "You're not playing fair," he said. "Never claimed to." Karl stood, held out a hand. "C'mon." Orlando allowed himself to be pulled up. "Where're we going?" Karl tapped the end of Orlando's nose and grinned. "That's a secret." "I hate secrets." "You'll like this one." "Hmmph," Orlando shrugged, but followed Karl to the car. The interior was, surprisingly, much cleaner than the last time he'd been in it. "I always hated waiting until Christmas morning to unwrap my gifts." "Somehow, I'm not surprised," Karl said, starting the engine and pulling away. Orlando fiddled with the buttons of the radio, hoping to find at least one station that wasn't playing Christmas music. Honestly, if he had to hear "Do You Hear What I Hear?" one more time, he'd strangle someone. Bad enough to hear the same music every single year, but did every station have to play the same five people singing those same, tired songs? "You're thinking again." "I'll try to stop." Karl chuckled, and wrapped one of Orlando's hands in his, resting them on his thigh as he drove up the winding coast road. "Try to relax. I know it's not where you want to be today, but it's not so bad, is it?" Orlando glanced over at Karl, smiled into compassionate, smiling eyes. "No," he replied, returning his gaze to the ocean, and the crashing surf as the sun rose in glorious rays of pink and brilliant orange. "It's not so bad." "Close your eyes," Karl said, once he'd pulled off the main road. "Why, you plannin' on tying me up and kidnapping me?" "Not yet," Karl grinned. "That's for later." "Cheeky." But Orlando returned the grin and obediently closed his eyes. Karl drove for another couple of minutes before shutting off the engine. "Alright," he said, his voice a warm caress against Orlando's ear. "You can open 'em." Orlando blinked slowly...and his eyes popped open a second later in shock. "What in the...?" he breathed, leaning forward. "Merry Christmas, love." White cotton batting covered the front lawn of Karl's rambling two-story house, vaguely resembling something Orlando thought was supposed to be snow. White and green lights were strung up along each window and the doors, even along the roof in strips. A rather impressive plastic statue of Santa and his reindeer sat next to Frosty the Snowman, resting crookedly by the front steps. Giant papier-mâché snowflakes hung from the eaves of the porch, swaying gently in the breeze. It was altogether the gaudiest thing Orlando had ever seen. It was perfect. "There's more inside," Karl said, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. "I, um, got you a tree. And your mother said something about a Yule log..." "You talked to my mum?" "Well, yeah. How else would I know how to decorate for you?" Orlando blinked again, throat suddenly tight. "You, um...for me?" Karl smiled and slid closer, fingers once again wrapping over Orlando's. His thumb brushed across Orlando's palm in a soft, circular motion. "Yeah. For you." Orlando had just enough dignity left not to scramble into Karl's lap and cover his face with puppy-like kisses. He settled for a gentle kiss instead, lips lightly covering Karl's, tasting chapstick and mint. "Thank you," he murmured. Karl brushed the tips of his fingers across Orlando's cheek. "Feel like heading inside to unwrap the rest of your gifts?" "Dunno." Orlando peered at Karl's profile, sly grin covering his lips. "You gonna be one of 'em?" "I could be," Karl replied, matching Orlando's smirk. "In that case, the last one in the house gets coal in their stocking."
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