Title: Consorted Authors: Jo & Brenda Series: Claimed, part 3 Pairings: Karl Urban/Orlando Bloom/Harry Sinclair/David Wenham; (Sean Bean/Dominic Monaghan; Viggo Mortensen/??) Rating: NC17 Summary: New vamps, new pets...and, yeah. All of the old fave vamps & pets, too. Plus, Elijah goes on a date. *grins* Disclaimer: Vampires still don't exist. And we doubt any of these things ever happened. But, you never know. Author's Notes: As ever, you guys all rock. We are humbled & thankful that so many of you love these guys as much as we do. We hope this last part entertains. *mwah*
He spared a passing thought that it was a shame Orlando wasn't there with them, but it was the child's own fault. They'd get things sorted out tomorrow. "You're quiet," Karl teased, fingertips tracing lazy patterns across Harry's stomach. "Just thinking about things." Harry sighed a bit under Karl's touch...he had really missed this. "What about you? What's going on in that head of yours?" Karl shifted, curled closer to Harry. "Just thinking about the natural disaster that is our pet. Fighting with Dave, of all people." "What was all that about, anyway?" Harry hadn't been paying too much attention once Orlando had dragged the whelp off, but he'd been a bit curious as to why Orlando had wanted to speak to him in the first place. Speaking to Dave was something he'd learned to avoid at all costs. "Orli likes him, believe it or not. Or he did after talking to him at the office while you were gone." Karl's shoulder moved in what might have been a shrug. "Apparently they found a subject they don't agree on." His fingers moved to Harry's ribs, one sliding along the length of a scar before moving on. "Can't imagine what it might have been. Dave is usually pretty calm unless you're around." "Wish I knew what it was about me that brings out his bad side," Harry mused. "Vig and Sean are always going on about what a great guy he is." "Maybe he's got a crush on you," Karl said, lifting his head and giving Harry a sly wink. Then he laughed. "Actually, he is a great guy. Funny as all hell, tweaks Vig every chance he gets, smart. Kid's got moxie." Harry chuckled, resumed massaging Karl's scalp. Crush on him, indeed. Child lived to make his life miserable. "Yeah, he's got balls. Doesn't like you too much, though." "You ever wonder about that?" Karl propped himself up on an elbow, let his hand drift to rest on Harry's lower stomach. "I mean the kid jumped all over me because of you. That was pretty odd, don't you think?" "Yeah, actually." Harry'd thought about it more than once. It had given him something to occupy his thoughts over the last few weeks. "He's never liked you. Never have understood it." "Maybe he's jealous," Karl murmured, his hand starting to move across Harry's stomach again. "Granted, I know he's never really liked me, but the way he stood up for you. That was pretty shocking." He glanced up at Harry, grinned. "You know, tonight's the first time I've ever seen the kid speechless." Harry shifted into Karl's touch, felt that slow, familiar slide start to wash over him again. "Well, it's not often I tell him he's right. Thought I'd given him a heart attack." "Wish I'd had a camera when you kissed his cheek." Karl chuckled, his fingers spiraling in a widening pattern. "I'm going to remember that look for a long time." He lowered his head, nuzzled Harry's shoulder. "You ever wondered what he'd be like?" "Who?" Harry was having trouble focusing. "Dave." Karl licked along Harry's collarbone, sucked lightly at the hollow of his throat. "He's a great looking guy, keeps himself fit. A little picky, but still...." His fangs grazed the top of Harry's shoulder. Just...ah...there. Yes. Every single time. Amazing, really, that Karl could make him burn so hot, so fast. "Yeah," Harry sighed, hardly aware of his words. "Good-looking kid...smells like honey and sex." Karl's fingers slid down, toying with the crisp curls at Harry's groin. "Bet he's amazing in bed," he breathed against Harry's chest, his tongue flicking across a nipple. "Probably looks pretty fucking hot when he comes." An image of rumpled, blond hair and bedroom eyes floated across Harry's mind, and he moaned under Karl's hand. So close, not close enough...Harry lifted his hips a bit in silent supplication. "Yeah, probably does. Those lips..." "Mmm...bet they'd look great wrapped around a cock," Karl murmured against Harry's jaw as he trailed his fingers up Harry's length, teasing with light touches. "Maybe I'll have Orli invite young Dave to dinner one night." Harry placed his hand over Karl's, used his other to cup the back of Karl's head. "The only lips I want wrapped around my cock right now are yours," Harry growled against Karl's mouth. "That a hint?" Karl grinned, a wicked gleam in his eyes. He slid down Harry's body, his lips mapping warm skin and firm muscle as he went. Harry didn't answer, couldn't. Simply arched into Karl's every caress, twisting to capture as much of Karl's lips, his hands, as possible. Karl dragged his hands down Harry's legs, creating a delicious friction against strong thighs. He lowered his head, sharp teeth nipping Harry's lower abdomen before moving down. He'd found out what he wanted to know; the time for talking was over. And fuck, but he'd missed Harry's taste. + + + Orlando pulled into the driveway and turned the car off. Long minutes passed as he sat there, unmoving, just staring at the castle. Fuck. This was harder than he'd thought. More minutes passed. Fuck it. Best just get it over with. What's the worst they could do? Orlando really didn't want to think about just how bad 'the worst' could be. He trudged across the grass, head down, hands thrust deep into his pockets. His fingers played with the key that Viggo had sent him what seemed like ages ago. Should he use it or not? He pulled it out of his pocket and looked at it as he stopped at the door. Actually...fuck it. It seemed no one else in his new circle had any problems just walking into someone else's house, so why should he? Squaring his shoulders, Orlando unlocked the door and walked inside. //Was wondering when you were going to get the balls to come inside.// Karl's amused voice curled around his mind, melting him a bit. //We're in the bedroom. I trust you remember the way?// //Yeah, I remember.// Orlando was subdued as he headed towards the bedroom. Of course, they had to be in the bedroom. He hesitated for only a second before he pushed the bedroom door open and walked in. Orlando figured, if he had another thousand years on this planet, he might just get used to the beauty that was Harry and Karl together. Tangled in bed sheets and each other, relaxed and so achingly sexy that Orlando was depressed all over again. This was what he'd pissed away last night. Yeah, sure, getting to know Dave had been fun -- Dave had a tweaked sense of humor and made a wicked martini and was a champion cuddler -- but, fuck. He could have had this. "Welcome back," Karl said, lifting his head from Harry's shoulder. His smile was lazy and satisfied. Orlando knew that smile. Karl always had it after he came. Great. "Thanks," Orlando said, voice soft. He watched them, wanted to strip down and crawl in between them. But that, he decided, was probably not a good idea. He rocked back on his heels, hands shoving into his pockets again to keep from twitching. "So...how much trouble am I in?" "Depends on how sorry you are," Harry answered, placing his arm behind his head, propping it up. His other hand was still wrapped around Karl's back, lazily stroking. "You wanna talk about it?" "What's there to talk about? I fucked up last night, and I'm sorry." Orlando chewed his bottom lip and forced his eyes to move from Harry's hand on Karl's back to Harry's eyes. "I was mad, I didn't think, and I made a mistake. Or two," he added when Karl opened his mouth. "Or several. I can't change that, unfortunately." "No, you can't," Harry agreed. Karl looked ready to say something again, but Harry simply tightened his arm a bit, stopped him. They seemed to have some sort of silent conversation, and Orlando wished he had Viggo's talent for eavesdropping. Karl dropped his head back on Harry's shoulder, and Harry eyes focused back on Orlando, the look in them snaring him with its intensity. "I don't mind being brushed off, little one. But I normally like to have a reason I've pissed someone off. Especially a lover. Saves me the trouble of repeating my mistake." One hand crept up to rub the back of his neck, and Orlando looked down at the floor. "I didn't mean to brush you off, and I'm sorry for that." He stole a quick peek at Harry. "And you didn't piss me off. I was..." He sighed. "Vig was in my head, and I just...I'm sorry." "Well, Vig tends to piss off everyone sooner or later." Orlando could hear the smile in Harry's voice, risked another peek at his face. Harry didn't seem overtly pissed, but Orlando also knew that Harry was pretty genial right before he hit you with all that...Harryness. "I take it you're not too keen on telling us why you were arguing with Vig." Orlando glanced at Karl. He wasn't going to hope for help from that side. With a small shrug, he looked back at the floor as he scuffed the toe of one shoe across it. "He was eavesdropping on a private conversation, and I was already pissed about something." Harry sighed, brushed his fingers through Karl's hair, kissed him gently. "You never taught him how to block, did you?" "I was getting around to it," Karl replied, somewhat defensively. "Moron." The word was said with too much affection to be an insult, and Karl snuggled back into Harry's embrace. "You need to start asking the right questions, Orlando," Harry told him. "Make sure he teaches you." "Dom explained it a bit last night. I'll just have to practice at it, I guess." "See that you do. Vig's a notorious busybody." Harry continued to look at him through watchful eyes. It was almost as if he knew...but he couldn't. "So why didn't you come over to apologize last night?" Shit. One of the few questions Orlando had prayed Harry wouldn't ask. His eyes darted to Karl. He wanted to tell him, but wasn't confident enough that Harry wouldn't overhear him. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. What to tell Harry? Fuck. Orlando settled for shrugging. "Karl had the car keys and I ended up spending the night talking to someone." Harry and Karl shared another long look. "Who?" Karl asked, sitting up a bit more. //It was Dave, wasn't it?// //Yeah.// Orlando tried his hardest to focus his thoughts, to keep them from leaking over so that Harry could hear him. He looked directly at Karl and tried to ignore Harry's eyes boring into him. "It was, you know, a friend." "Thought we were past secrets." Harry sounded a bit hurt. Fuck. That was the last thing Orlando wanted. "Leave it, Harry. Orlando doesn't have to tell us everything." Karl smiled at him reassuringly. //You could probably tell him, you know.// //I shouldn't get involved again. I pissed off a lot of people last night.// Orlando sighed, let his eyes fall to the floor. Then he took a deep breath and looked back at Harry. Christ...there was only so much he could say without breaking his promise to Dave. But he had to make things right with Harry. "It was Dave." Harry looked back at him, confused. "Dave Wenham? Vig's assistant?" Orlando just nodded, held his breath. "Well...okay." Harry fell back on the pillows, brow furrowed. "Alright." He was silent for a minute. "Don't suppose this has anything to do with why you went wandering off with him last night, does it?" "Um, yeah, kinda." Orlando looked away, pretended to study one of the wall hangings. He moved to stand in front of it, angling his body so that neither Harry nor Karl had a direct view of his face. "Alright." Harry was silent again for a long moment. "You're not going to tell me why you and Dave spent the night together, are you?" Orlando glanced over his shoulder. "We were just talking about...things. Bikes, people we like..." //Little one...// Orlando looked at Karl, shrugged. "People you like?" Harry looked confused again. "Bikes?" "Yeah, we both agree that Vig's an arrogant cunt." Orlando turned, leaned back against the wall. He tried to smile and wondered if succeeded from the look Karl gave him. "And he's got a Vintage Indian, so we talked about that for a bit. Watched a couple movies, talked." "Dave's got an Indian?" Orlando nodded, tried to act casual. "Yeah. It's pretty sweet. He gave me a ride home on it last night since someone," he gave Karl a pointed look, "took off with the car keys still in his pocket." "If someone hadn't been behaving like a total brat, it wouldn't have happened," Karl reminded him, with a wink. "I think he's apologized enough, Harry." "No, I don't think so." Orlando turned, stared at Harry. Who gazed back at him calmly. //I really think you need to show me how sorry you are.// "Show..." Orlando stopped, then nodded. He pushed away from the wall and slowly walked to stand beside the bed. Falling gracefully to his knees, he folded his hands in his lap and bowed his head. "What would you have me do?" //Dance for me.// "Oh boy," Karl muttered. Orlando looked up at Harry. Dance for him? He wondered if he had Karl to thank for that. His lips curved in a small smile, and his lashes swept down to hide his eyes for a brief moment. "Would you like it with or without music?" "Whichever," Harry answered. He sat completely up on the bed, sheets tangling even more around him. Karl settled back in the crook of his arm, shaking his head. But he was smiling. //God, I'm going to enjoy this.// "Very well." Orlando looked around, spied the stereo in the corner. Perfect. He stood as gracefully as he had knelt, moved to the stereo, turned it on. Several seconds were spent sorting through the small pile of CDs that had ended up in the bedroom. He found the one he wanted, grinned as he remembered bringing it in there himself the night he'd stayed to talk. "Music usually enhances it," he said as he pressed the play button and then turned. "Now..." he gestured at his clothes, "on or off?" "Oh, I've got a choice, do I?" Harry was silent for a minute. "Karl mentioned a strip tease." Karl pulled Harry to him for a quick, hard kiss. "You are so in for it, love." Harry laughed, looked back at Orlando. "God, I hope so." "Harry...there's always a choice," Orlando murmured, practically purring. He smiled. The music filled the room, and he stood straight, let his arms hang loose at his sides as he shook them, let his head fall back. Then he lifted his head, looked directly at Harry, and began to move. Orlando closed his eyes and let the music control his body. His hips swayed, his hands touched and teased. Fingers toyed with the buttons on his shirt, easing them free of their holes slowly, revealing bare skin by tiny increments. Harry wanted the full show? Fine with him. He'd make sure Harry got what he wanted. He could feel Harry's eyes on him, Karl's eyes, as they watched. Felt the way they both caressed him, felt the want. "My God." Harry, sounding reverent. Good. Orlando smiled to himself, opened his eyes. The look he gave Harry was carnal -- dark and seductive -- and he spun away, losing himself in the music. The song filled him, controlled him, and he let it. The world around him faded away as Orlando danced, his body moving effortlessly to the heavy drumbeat. A fine sheen of sweat covered his skin, caused his hair to curl tightly at his temples and across his forehead. His shirt lay forgotten on the floor, somewhere behind him, as he trailed his hands across his chest and down to toy with the charm at his navel. "Christ." He was vaguely aware of Harry's quiet oath, of the pulsing in his head that told him exactly how much Harry was enjoying his show, but he didn't stop what he was doing. This was for Harry's benefit, and he was getting all of it. As the tempo of the music gradually sped up, so did Orlando, his body keeping perfect time with each note. Slender, graceful hands slid lower and, with a few flicks of one hand, the snug jeans were unbuttoned. Slowly. That's it, like that. Denim slid down long legs to be kicked away, and still Orlando moved, his body swaying and turning, undulating in a blatant invitation. His hands remained in a constant state of movement, touching his body here and there, never lingering long in one place. //Come up here, little one.// Couldn't tell if it was Harry or Karl, didn't matter. Orlando drifted to a halt as the song ended. He opened his eyes, smiled, walked calmly to the bed. He crawled up on the bed and knelt beside Harry, sitting back on his heels as he watched the two vampires. "That was..." Harry stopped, cleared his throat. "Beautiful." He reached out a finger, caught a drop of sweat that ran down Orlando's chest, sucked it into his mouth. "Jesus..." Karl watched him out of heavy-lidded eyes, body still wrapped around Harry's. "Honestly, you should piss Harry off more often." "I was just getting ready to say that," Harry replied, before pulling Orlando up on top of his lap. Orlando grinned and linked his arms loosely around Harry's neck. "I can set up a schedule if you'd like." He cocked his head, pretended to consider something. "Let me see...I pissed Harry off this week, so I think maybe alternating weeks. I can piss you off next week," he said as seriously as he could manage, looking directly at Karl as he spoke. Karl wrapped his head around the back of Orlando's neck, drew his head down. "Why don't we skip the pissing off portion?" Karl whispered across Orlando's parted lips. //Sounds good to me.// Orlando slid his tongue out and across Karl's bottom lip. One hand moved from Harry to tangle in Karl's hair as Orlando leaned towards him, the other remained on Harry's shoulder, thumb rubbing lightly across Harry's collarbone. //We are going to finish this conversation later// Harry promised before lowering his lips to Orlando's neck. And Orlando would have responded, but he was a bit busy... |