| Title: Cherished Authors: Jo & Brenda Series: Claimed Pairings: Karl Urban/Orlando Bloom/Harry Sinclair Rating: NC17 Summary: Vampires and pets and sex, oh my. Yeah, it's an AU. Disclaimer: As far as we know, vampires don't exist. Cha. Author's Notes: *Brenda points to Jo* It was all her fault. I just went along with it. *Jo points back at Brenda* Her Karl had designs on my Orli. She liked the idea so we let them play. This is what happened. *mwah* *Brenda & Jo look around, then whisper* But it's really *all* Harry's fault and if he says otherwise, it's a lie! For the other 1/2 of the Quartet. *mwah*
It began when Orlando descended the stairs, step faltering as he drank in the sight of Karl in a blood red silk shirt and tight black slacks. He looked like the very model of urban elegance, sophisticated simplicity. And Orlando was struck once again by how very little he knew about the vampire to whom he'd be bound in a little over 24 hours. It was a sobering thought. "I see you took me literally." Karl gestured at Orlando's thin cotton black t-shirt and faded jeans. Orlando shrugged. "Well, I..." "It's fine. Come on. Dinner reservations are at 9, and we've some things to buy." Karl held out a hand, and he was temptation incarnate, sex on a plate. And God, Orlando was starving. He took the offered hand as he descended the last few steps, and Karl laced their fingers together. It felt so good, so intimate. How odd that holding hands could melt him as much as a kiss or touch. The second shock of the evening was the limo. Or, rather, the lack of limo. Orlando stopped, stared at the sleek black Viper idling on the driveway. "Karl..." he pointed at the car. "I thought I'd drive tonight," Karl replied, squeezing his hand. "If that's alright." "Um." He was going to spend the evening speechless. He just knew it. "Alright." Okay, a date. A proper date. He could handle this. Maybe. Karl led Orlando to the car, opened the door for him as he slid inside the leather interior. Wow. He'd never really thought about cars being sexy before, but this wasn't so much a car as it was a statement. Bold, powerful, controlled, lethal. Much like the vampire sliding into the driver's seat. Karl flashed Orlando an impish grin that somehow made him seem younger, dangerously boyish. Orlando suddenly wondered what Karl had been like as a youth. "I love cars," Karl stated, smoothly navigating the narrow, winding driveway that led out to the street below. "Amazing things, really." "I suppose you were the first to get one, weren't you?" Orlando had been at the house long enough to see that Karl was very interested in the latest technology, the latest advances in science and computers. Karl glanced at him, his wink quick, before settling his gaze back on the road. "Of course. I was one of Henry Ford's backers." Somehow Orlando was not surprised. He tucked his legs under him, bounced a little in his seat as he watched the buildings fly. The Viper rumbled, purred, hugged every curve of the twisty, steep street like it had been made for just that purpose. And Karl drove with a skill Orlando was sure very few mortals possessed. It honestly should be illegal for any one person to be so insanely sexy while shifting gears, for fuck's sake. But, there it was. The sight of those long, aristocratic fingers curving over the gearshift made Orlando hot. He should be committed. He wondered if there was a support group in for mortals suffering from an overload of vampire lust. Knowing L.A., he was sure there was. He was so caught up in his thoughts that it took him a minute to notice that the car had stopped on Robertson. A small row of elegant, high-priced shops stretched along the sidewalk. He looked around in surprise when Karl jumped out of the car, strolled to his side, opened the door. "Come on, little one. 'Sophistication' awaits you." Orlando stared at the outstretched hand for a moment, lifted confused eyes to the smiling vampire in front of him. "Karl, this store isn't open." Karl looked around, glanced back at Orlando. Yes, that was definitely amusement, but Orlando was damned if he could see what was so funny. "It's not?" "No, they close at 5." He knew because he window shopped on Robertson and Rodeo frequently, quietly coveting the designer fashions that he could never in a million years afford on his salary. "Not today, they don't. Come on, out of the car." Karl simply took Orlando's hand, tugged him gently out of his seat, led him to the door. And laughed outright at his stunned expression when a petite blonde in severe black opened the door and waved them in. "Karl, how lovely to see you again." Orlando watched in bemused silence as Karl bent his head, gave the blonde a slight air kiss and smiled back. "Trivinia, may I introduce you to Orlando Bloom?" The blonde took Orlando's hands in her perfectly manicured ones, spread his arms, looked him up and down. There was nothing remotely sexual about the look, but Orlando felt naked all the same. "Lovely," Trivinia declared, as she dropped his hands, nodding. The bangs of her expertly styled pageboy didn't move. "He has the most flawless skin. And lines...I'm thinking Gucci." "Fine, whatever you think is best," Karl replied, with a slight wave of his hand. "But I want bold colors, deep colors. And he'll need a few suits, one for the ceremony, another for the party." Trivinia tapped a finger on her deep red lips. Orlando looked back and forth between the two of them, wondering why he wasn't upset that they were discussing him like he wasn't even in the room. "What are you wearing for the ceremony, Karl?" she asked. "I was thinking grey." "Hmmm, yes, a nice silver should bring out the shine in that skin," Trivinia agreed. "Well, come on then, let's get started." Orlando looked after her retreating back, more confused than ever. "Who's she talking to?" he whispered. Karl placed a soft kiss on Orlando's forehead. "You. Go on." He placed a hand on the small of Orlando's back, gently nudged him. "I'll be out here waiting." Orlando took a small step, turned. "Karl?" "Yes?" "How...um...?" Christ, this was embarrassing. Orlando willed himself not to blush, looked at perfect features, at the lock of dark hair that fell carelessly across Karl's forehead. And brushed it back with delicate fingers, not even aware of the motion. "What about pay...?" The rest of his question was cut off by the feel of soft lips on his. Orlando would never get used to the feel of them, never get used to the visceral kick that raced through him every time they kissed. Even when it lasted for just a moment. "I thought we went over all of that," Karl said. "We did, it's just..." "Just nothing. After tomorrow, all that I have is yours. Consider this your down payment." Another flash of white teeth, small fangs. Another soft kiss that had him melting into the plush carpet. Then Karl nudged him again. "Now, go. I've an urge to see you decked out in designer fashions." This time Orlando managed to smile back. "If it would make you happy." "It's shopping. It's supposed to make you happy. Tell Triv I also want a pair of leather pants for you." "Leather?" Karl nodded, eyes flashing, and now he was every inch Orlando's dark angel, every inch the seducer that had first enthralled Orlando in that crowded club. "I'll see what I can do," Orlando replied, and walked back to the dressing rooms, still dazed, still aroused, still confused. And more in love with Karl with every passing minute. + + + "I've never been here before," Orlando said, looking around the restaurant, wide eyes taking in everything. Karl smiled indulgently. "I think you'll like it. My usual table, please, Anthony." "Certainly, Mr. Urban. Right this way." The maitre d' gestured for them to follow. Karl's hand settled at the small of Orlando's back, nudged him forward. //I like that outfit on you.// Orlando glanced down at the new gold and ivory silk shirt and navy slacks, his for less than an hour and costing more than his last week's salary. "You should. You picked it out." "And I'm so glad I did," Karl murmured as he seated himself across from Orlando. //Those slacks do such wonderful things for your ass.// Orlando blushed, couldn't think of a single thing to say, glanced at Karl shyly. "Have I told you how much I love it when you blush? The perfect picture of wanton innocence." Karl flashed him a wicked grin, just the barest hint of fangs glinting in the candlelight. Orlando blushed harder and, seeing the fire that flared in Karl's eyes, quickly lifted his menu. He looked over it, blinked several times, and then studied it closely. "Karl...there aren't any prices on this menu." Karl's low chuckle drifted across Orlando's ears like velvet, wrapping him up in the richness of the sound. Karl's menu was still folded on the table in front of him. "Just pick something. I promise you that it's all quite delicious." "I...." Orlando's eyes were drawn back to the menu. The price-less menu. His mind whirled. Already Karl had spent a small fortune on clothes for him and now this. With something akin to dismay, he studied the choices. Then strong, graceful fingers reached over the top of the menu, took it from him. "Why don't I order for both of us?" Karl offered, mouth curving with mirth when Orlando nodded. "Please," he said shyly, ducking his head when the waiter approached. "I'll have the filet -- you know how I like it, Miguel -- and Orlando will have the strip st --" Karl stopped when Orlando shook his head. "No?" "I don't eat red meat," Orlando said very quietly. Karl contemplated that for a moment, eyes thoughtful as he studied Orlando's face. "Alright then, Orlando will have the lobster tails with mixed vegetables and rice pilaf." "Excellent choices, Mr. Urban." The waiter turned to leave and Karl reached out, catching his wrist. "And a bottle of my usual wine. Two glasses." Karl's eyes remained fixed on Orlando as the waiter nodded, departing, menus in hand, and they were alone once more. Orlando dropped his head, certain he had made a mistake as Karl continued to watch him silently. "No red meat," Karl said finally. Orlando shook his head. "I'll remember that for next time." "You're not mad?" Orlando peeked at Karl through his lashes. "Why in the world would I be mad about that?" "You didn't say anything." Orlando shrugged, the movement small and almost delicate. "I was just thinking of how much I don't know about you. I'm certainly not mad because you don't eat certain foods. That would be like you being upset that I need blood to survive." Karl picked up his now full wineglass, sipping the deep ruby liquid as he regarded Orlando over the rim of the goblet. "This is very good," Orlando commented after tasting the wine. He winced at the inane statement. "I guess you eat here a lot." Brilliant. Could you sound any less intelligent? "It's one of my favorite restaurants. I usually eat here with Harry. It's my attempt to add a little culture to his less than civilized lifestyle." Long fingers toyed with the crystal stem of his goblet, his mouth lifting at what sounded suspiciously like an old and well-worn joke. "Tell me about them," Orlando asked suddenly, leaning forward a bit. "Who?" "Harry and Sean. You speak of them with such affection." Karl's eyes softened in the candlelight. "Well, I've known Harry almost all his life. He came to train under me during the uprisings." "Uprisings?" "King Stephen, the complete moron, managed to get himself kidnapped, and there was a period of about ten years when nobles were scrambling around for lands. I was a baron at the time, offered my home to train forces. Harry served as my squire during the campaigns to keep some semblance of peace until Henry II was crowned king." "You...you fought?" My God. Orlando had never given it much thought, but the vampire before him had shaped history. Hell, he was history. "Everybody fought. It was Europe in the Middle Ages. And vampires were extremely prized as fighters because of our immortality, our ability to raid under the cover of darkness." That made a certain kind of sense. "What about Sean, then? Another war?" "No, he was an advisor to Richard II when I met him. Just turned vampire, eager for knowledge." Another soft smile grazed features too beautiful for words. "I was his mentor." "He was lucky to have you." Orlando's softly spoken words seemed to break Karl out of his reverie. "Enough about me. Tell me about yourself." "Myself?" Orlando stammered. "My life is so boring compared to yours." "Tell me anyway. Indulge me." "What would you like to know?" "Everything. I know how you taste, how you smell, how you sound when I give you pleasure." Orlando blushed again, and Karl laugh, soft and wicked. "But I know little about you other than you don't eat red meat and you have horrid taste in shirts. I would change that." "I...where should I start?" Karl shrugged and gestured at the plate that had appeared -- as if by magic -- in front of Orlando. "Wherever you wish. Your family. Tell me about them." "My father died when I was little. I don't really remember him that much." Orlando paused to take his first bite of lobster and almost moaned in delight as the rich flesh practically melted on his tongue. Karl just smiled, the gesture small, intimate, loving. "My mum and grandmum raised me and my older sister. They're still in London." "Do you miss them?" "All the time," Orlando said softly, looked at his plate. Karl's fingers touched the back of his hand. "I didn't mean to make you sad." "You didn't," Orlando murmured. "You make me happy." //I'm glad. Your happiness means everything to me.// Orlando looked into concern-filled eyes and forgot how to breathe. He could honestly drown in those eyes. Wanted to fall into their depths and lose himself forever. "Tell me how you met the young Elijah the Fierce," Karl said aloud, smiling when Orlando laughed. "He'll love the nickname." Orlando said, still laughing, eyes sparkling. "We were both new to L.A., knew some of the same people. We hated each other at first. He was brilliantly obnoxious and so was I, and we just rubbed each other the wrong way. Then we started talking one night at a club." "And never looked back, I presume?" "I guess, yeah. Sounds like you might know something about that situation." Orlando stole a forkful of Karl's baked potato and grinned unrepentantly around the tines. "Perhaps a bit," Karl said, his smile private. "Please continue." "We realized that we had so much in common, it didn't make sense to hate each other. He wants to be a lawyer but can't afford the tuition." "Really?" Karl's voice was thoughtful. "Yeah, he's a paralegal right now," Orlando stated. Taking another bite of lobster, he launched into a narrative of one of his and Elijah's twisted adventures. By the end of the story, he had Karl laughing so hard there were tears in his eyes. By the end of the meal -- and the bottle of wine -- Orlando was pleasantly buzzed and happily affectionate. And Karl knew that Orlando's favorite color was yellow and he'd gotten his sun tattoo at 15. He also knew that Orlando liked to read and sculpt and dance, that his musical tastes tended towards anything he could dance to, that he had an odd fascination with throwing his body off bridges and out of airplanes, that he'd had his navel pierced just three weeks earlier and liked it when Karl sucked on the gold ring, and that he was utterly fascinated with Karl's fangs. "Come, little one. Time to take you home." Karl smiled when Orlando kissed his cheek. "Home, yes. Take me home." And with that, Orlando draped himself along Karl's side, not caring who was looking. He loved Karl. He was practically purring as his vampire led him from the restaurant. |