| Title: Captivated Authors: Jo & Brenda Series: Claimed, part 2 Pairings: Karl Urban/Orlando Bloom/Harry Sinclair/David Wenham; (Sean Bean/Dominic Monaghan; Viggo Mortensen/??) Rating: NC17 Summary: Same vampires. Same pets. Same story. Carry on. Disclaimer: As far as we know, vampires *still* don't exist. Heh. Author's Notes: Sequel to "Cherished". Much thanks to everyone who's been writing in. Glad we've kept you entertained.
Slipping silently into the steamy room, he paused for a moment to watch Karl through the shower door. Absolutely beautiful. Wet Karl. Orlando wanted to crawl in the shower with him, but he resisted the urge. Instead, he leaned against the counter. "Hurry up. We're going out." Karl poked his head out of the door, shaking the water out of his eyes, splashing droplets everywhere. "We are?" Orlando grinned. "Yep. Dinner and whatever. So hurry up in there and figure out what you want to do." "If you're kidnapping me, I'd say it's up to you, isn't it?" Karl winked, ducking back into the shower. "Your input would be appreciated unless you're cool with dinner and then a club," Orlando said, trying not to laugh. He started back out the door to find his shoes. //As I said, I don't expect to have input.// //Good. Then don't complain about anything.// Orlando grinned, found his shoes. //And hurry up.// //One would think you'd like the fact that I rinse the soap off.// But Orlando heard the water shut off a minute later and watched, tongue absolutely dry, as Karl walked out of the bathroom, naked and damp, running a towel through dark hair. Orlando dropped on to the bed, knees unable to support him. He swallowed a few times before managing to speak. "You, ah, got all the soap off, right?" Karl's grin was beyond sinful. "Of course." He strolled over to the wardrobe with unconscious grace, started to rifle through his endless supply of silk shirts. "Good, because soap itches when it dries and, well...it'd look pretty bad for a Lord to be scratching his balls in public." Orlando grinned in delight at the look Karl shot him. He bounced across the room, wrapped his arms around Karl's waist and pressed a kiss to the nape of Karl's neck. "Wear the dark blue one. I like how it looks on you." Karl dropped the shirt into Orlando's hands. "Then put it on me." "Now there's a switch." Orlando smiled and shook the shirt out, sliding it onto Karl, unable to resist touching every place he could reach as he settled the silk on Karl's shoulders and moved around to start doing up the buttons. Karl brushed his fingers over Orlando's cheek, smiled when Orlando nuzzled into the contact. "And what pants would you have me wear?" "Hmmm." Orlando paused with the buttons half finished. He turned to study the contents of the closet, one finger tapping his bottom lip. Then he grinned and pulled out a pair of black jeans. "These. I like looking at your ass in them." Karl twisted a bit, looked down. "Something wrong with my ass out of them?" Orlando moved around behind Karl, lifted the bottom of his shirt and stood there for several seconds, silent, as he studied Karl's ass with a critical eye. Then he shook his head and pinched one cheek. "Nope, it's perfect." "Just checking." Karl lifted a leg, grinned. "So, put them on already." Orlando snorted in amusement, kneeling to slide the denim up Karl's legs. "Did I miss the part about valet in the job description? Or is senility finally setting in after 900 years and you've forgotten how to dress yourself?" He pulled the jeans up, again unable to resist touching as much as he could. "In or out?" "Out. And, like I said, you want to kidnap me, you have to play it all the way," Karl grinned. Orlando shrugged as he zipped and buttoned Karl's jeans. His fingers returned to the shirt buttons, doing them up quickly. Finished, he rested his hands against Karl's chest and leaned in close, his lips brushing Karl's ear. "So does that mean I get to tie you up and blindfold you?" Karl circled his hands to span Orlando's hips, tilted his head. "Well, now, that would be up to you, wouldn't it?" Orlando turned his head and grinned against Karl's lips. "I'll keep that in mind." He pressed a hard, swift kiss to Karl's mouth and then twisted away, bouncing towards the door. "I'm sure you can manage your shoes. I'll pick you up at the front door." Karl strolled to the foyer scant minutes later, smile still faintly hovering over full lips at the bouncy mood his pet seemed to be in. Must have been a good day at the office. Or something. He hadn't seen Orlando this cheerful in awhile. //Do you need me to come back in and tie your shoes for you?// //You said to wait by the front door, brat.// //No, I said I'd pick you up at the front door. Get your butt in the car before I have to do something drastic.// Karl merely snorted at the idea of Orlando forcing him to do anything, and walked outside. He was going to end up giving that damned Viper to Orlando, he was sure of it. Child drove it more often than he did. He slid into the soft leather seats, lifted his hands a bit. "Well, I'm here." Orlando flicked a glance towards him, his mouth curving into a tiny smile. "Strapped in?" He didn't give Karl a chance to answer before his foot hit the gas pedal and his hand moved, shifting gears smoothly, swiftly, his eyes ignoring the speedometer as he concentrated on the driveway and then the road. Ah well...at least he could drive it. Karl stretched, enjoyed the bite of the night air as they careened from Mulholland down to Cahuenga, Orlando hugging the curves with reckless skill. "So any preferences as to dinner? Or are you still in kidnap victim mode?" Karl raised an eyebrow. "Victim?" "Well, you kept saying I was kidnapping you." Orlando smirked, gave the car a little more gas. "So that makes me the kidnapper and you the kidnappee. And the kidnappee is always the victim." "Sometimes I wonder what reality you live in, Orlando, I really do. Wherever is fine. We could go to North's, you seemed to like their garlic mashed potatoes just fine." Orlando laughed in absolute delight and leaned over to press a very swift kiss to Karl's cheek. "I love you, you know that? And North's it is." Karl waited until they were seated in one of the leather booths and had placed their order before asking the question uppermost on his mind. "Why the good mood?" he smiled, taking a slow sip of his Merlot. "Because it's better than a bad mood." Orlando grinned over the top of his glass. "Actually, I don't really know. I just wanted to get out of the house tonight." "Bored with me already?" Karl teased. "As if." Orlando laughed, leaned back in his seat. "I just thought it would be nice to go out and do something together tonight." "Well," Karl set his glass down on the table, "here we are." He placed his hand on top of Orlando's and traced his wrist. Orlando nodded. "Yeah, I know." His eyes found Karl's across the table. Karl nodded, fell silent. The waiter brought their food, and Karl picked at his chips, brow furrowed, tried not to think about the raging emptiness in his head, his heart, his bed. It should be enough that Orlando was here, loved him unconditionally. But he knew it wasn't, and he knew it never would be. Orlando poked his fork into his food, watched Karl through lowered lashes. "What's wrong?" Karl shook his head, smiled wanly. "It's nothing. How's the eggplant?" //Liar.// Orlando forked the food in question. "Excellent, of course." Karl sighed. He had to know...he'd been trying for days not to ask, but, God... "How's Harry?" "Tired and ready to pull his hair out." Orlando shifted in his seat, focused his eyes on his plate. "I'm not sure if that's because Viggo was giving him hell today or if it's because of everything else happening over there. But he seems to be in a good mood every time I talk to him." Viggo? "Why was Viggo giving him hell?" Orlando looked up, startled, fork halfway to his mouth. Then he blinked, cheeks turning a pale pink. "I don't know. Harry didn't say." //You don't lie very well either, little one.// Karl raised his glass, touched it to Orlando's. Orlando sighed and lowered his fork to his plate. "Harry really didn't say why Viggo was giving him hell, but, um, well...I think it had something to do with you and me." //Continue.// The word was laced with steel. Orlando peeked at Karl, looked decidedly less certain than a few minutes ago. "I kinda told Viggo that Harry is...um...blocking you." He tried to make himself as small as possible in his seat without being obvious. Fuck. The one goddamn person he'd didn't want knowing about this... "Why did you tell him that?" "Well he knew about everything else, so I figured he must've known about that, too, but he didn't until I told him and then he was shocked and..." Orlando's fingers toyed with his fork. "And?" Orlando sighed, closed his eyes. "And he offered to go to Bangkok and talk to Harry." Karl leaned his head back, counted to ten. In English and Russian. And French, too, for good measure. "Lovely. Cocksucker loves nothing better than fucking with our lives. And you had to go and give him ammunition." Fuck. "Well, fuck, it's not like I intended to tell him anything." Patience, Karl. He took a deep breath, counted to ten again before shifting to face Orlando. "You don't go to Viggo with problems. He tends to try and fix them." "Yeah, I noticed that," Orlando muttered. He returned his attention to his meal. "And I didn't go to him with problems. I went to him with questions, and the problems just sort of came up." Karl tightened his fingers over Orlando's hand. "Why couldn't you ask me?" Orlando's voice was soft, his eyes locked on his plate. "Because I wasn't sure you would or could answer my questions." Karl wondered when exactly it was that everyone had started to lose faith in him. "I'm here now. Talk to me." Orlando sat quietly for a moment. "Why were you so sure that I was the one? That I'd be willing to be shared with Harry?" Good question. "Because you were entirely too much like Harry, too much like me..." Karl shrugged. "I took one look at you, and the rest of my soul just clicked." "You didn't even know me." Orlando smiled a little wistfully. "Didn't Harry have some say in this? I can't imagine he'd just sit there and smile when you show up with this cute little puppy that followed you home and, oh, can I keep it, please?" Karl pursed his lips, frowning. "You were never a puppy. And if anything, I followed you. As for Harry, he, um...he didn't know. I didn't tell him until after I'd claimed you." Orlando laughed a little, made designs in his potatoes with his fork. "What if he'd hated me on sight?" "Christ, and you wonder why I compare the two of you." Fuck eating, Karl wasn't hungry anyway. He pushed his plate forward. "He said exactly the same thing. And all I can tell you is what I told him. I just knew. That's it, that simple." Orlando blinked, looked down at his plate, at his fork pushing through the potatoes. "Oh. I'm sorry. We don't have to talk about this..." "No, it's fine." Karl kissed Orlando's nape, sighing along the puckering flesh. "But I can't explain my soul, Orlando. It just is. Can't explain to you why I wanted Harry so badly I was willing to die to get him. Can't explain again why I couldn't let him go when his time came to die. Can't explain how I just looked at you and knew, yes, here, the search is over." "What if..." Orlando paused, took a swallow of his drink, tried again. "What if the bond had gotten in the way?" "Which one?" "Our bond. The pet bond." Orlando glanced at Karl, returned his attention to his plate and the food he wasn't eating. "I shouldn't be attracted to him, shouldn't have been able to be with him like I was. That bond is supposed to prevent all that so I'm faithful and loyal to you." "Ah, but you are," Karl answered, softly. "You're faithful and loyal to us." Orlando looked directly at Karl. "But the bond is to you, not to Harry. Is it even possible to bond to the both of you like that?" "Your bond is to the both of us. There are methods to strengthen what you have with Harry, to get that real bond, to get inside his mind and him inside of yours." It was like trying to explain opera to a deaf person. Confusing and self-defeating. But, Karl had promised to try. "So, yes, it's possible. Probable even. Inevitable, actually." "Inevitable." Orlando sighed softly. "I think Harry's a little pissed at me because of Viggo." "As well he should be. I'm still pissed at you for that." But Karl smiled as he said it to take the sting out of his words. "And it's fucked, yes, I know. But, it's also us. Was us." Was...fuck. Couldn't think about Harry and himself in the past tense. "I really didn't know Viggo'd go off to Bangkok like that," Orlando mumbled. "And he was there when I talked to Harry this afternoon and...Harry acted like he didn't want to talk to me. He said we needed to talk about us, but wouldn't say what, then he suddenly had to go. He called back a little later and never even mentioned it. It was like the first call never happened." Curious. Very. And it fucked Karl off that he had no way of knowing what was going on with Harry without talking to other people. "Did you try asking him about it?" Orlando nodded. "I asked him a couple times, but he just changed the subject." "That doesn't sound like Harry at all." But then, none of this was even remotely right. Karl swallowed the last of his wine, signaled for the check. Somehow he didn't think he and Orlando would be ordering dessert. "He didn't act like Harry when I called either. Well, he did at first, but then he got all weird. I don't think Viggo was there when he called me back." "Vig probably tried something to fuck with his head. He's good at that." Karl smiled when Orlando rolled his eyes and nodded. "I'm sorry I fucked up the evening. It wasn't my intention." It was the least he could offer. Orlando shook his head, slid out of the booth. "Don't worry about it. We'll do it another night." When Karl stood, Orlando slipped beneath his arm, hugged Karl tightly. "Let's just go home. I don't really feel like trying to talk you onto the dance floor tonight anyway." "Is that what you want to do? Talk?" Karl dropped a kiss on Orlando's head, breathed in his scent, nuzzled the soft curls. He could live another 900 years and never grow tired of this. Whatever happened, he'd made the right choice that night. The only choice. "Yeah." Orlando smiled, flushed, pressed his face against Karl's neck. His voice dropped to a mere whisper. "And maybe cuddle some. Or something." "Mmm, cuddling sounds nice," Karl answered, his voice a low purr. "Haven't done that in awhile." He didn't let go of Orlando as he signed the check, kept his arms wrapped around his pet as they navigated the stairs to the valet. "I thought I was the one taking you out on this date." Orlando laughed softly. He shook his head when the valet held out the keys and glanced at Karl. "He's driving home." |