broadwriting: (orlando (laughing))
[personal profile] broadwriting
Title: "Temporary Monogamy" (Part 27/27 & Epilogue)
Author: Brenda ([livejournal.com profile] azewewish)
Pairing: Orlando Bloom/Sean Bean (Harry Sinclair/Karl Urban)
Click here for full disclaimers & notes.

Prologue | Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine | Part Ten | Part Eleven | Part Twelve | Part Thirteen | Part Fourteen | Part Fifteen | Part Sixteen | Part Seventeen | Part Eighteen | Part Nineteen | Part Twenty | Part Twenty-One | Part Twenty-Two | Part Twenty-Three | Part Twenty-Four | Part Twenty-Five | Part Twenty-Six |





Karl awoke to the rich scent of brewing coffee, and to the welcome feel of soft lips on his, kissing him into full awareness. When he opened his eyes, Harry's face swam blearily into view. "Mornin'."

The next kiss was just as soft. "Could get used to you in my bed," Harry said, smiling, when they parted.

"That's the...um...idea," Karl murmured with a lusty yawn that turned into a contented sigh when Harry ran a hand along his side.

"Breakfast is on."

He put his hand on Harry's unshaven cheek, thumb rubbing across rough bristles. He'd been a fool to think he ever needed anything other than this. "Gonna spoil me, you know."

"That's the idea," Harry replied, echoing Karl's words with a wink. He gave Karl another kiss before straightening and giving Karl's ass a light smack. "And if you want any waffles before I eat them all, best get a move on."

By the time Karl'd mustered the energy to roll out of bed and head down the stairs, after stopping in the bathroom to brush his teeth and to splash some water on his face, Harry was well into his plate of waffles. The morning paper was spread out all over the table.

"I've been thinking," Harry said, as Karl fixed his own plate and mug.

"A dangerous prospect, but I'm prepared to take the bullet," Karl teased, sitting across from Harry and shoving the paper off of his side. And this, too, was the best sort of familiar. He thought he might have missed this more than anything else – just the simple act of a shared breakfast in the morning, looking at the person he loved over a cup of coffee.

"I want you to keep your house."

Karl's heart contracted. He couldn't have been reading this wrong. He refused to believe it. "You...you don't want me moving back in right away?"

"No, nothing like that." Harry smiled, soothing Karl's concerns, and snagged Karl's hand across the table. "Far as I'm concerned, you can move back in today."

Which was pretty much what he'd planned on doing...well, maybe tomorrow, as he had plans about the rest of his day, but tomorrow was definite. He didn't want to spend another night without Harry. "That's more like it," Karl said, with his own soft smile.

"But I've been thinking about what you said," Harry continued, in a soft voice. It was clear he'd been giving the matter a lot of thought. "About how you thought that maybe the reason why I stopped writing was after we'd settled in together. And maybe it might be a good idea to turn the other house into an office that I could use when I wanted to write. So I wouldn't be underfoot in the house all the time," he finished, and gave Karl a hopeful look. "What d'ya reckon?"

"I think it's fucking brilliant," Karl replied, when he thought he could speak around the sudden lump in his throat. How truly amazing that Harry could manage to surprise him after all this time. His heart was so full it felt like it would overflow at any moment.

Harry's smile was radiantly bright. "Yeah?"

"Absolutely." Karl beckoned Harry to him and they met halfway, the kiss light and the best sort of sweet. He didn't think his day could possibly get better, and it was still early yet. "And, in the meantime, I need to talk to Viggo."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Do I want to know why?"

Karl grinned. "Well, unless Sean and Orlando have sorely disappointed me, I think what we need is an old-fashioned celebration."

It only took Harry a moment to get what Karl was – and wasn't – saying. Then he chuckled and stood to pour himself a fresh cup of water for tea. "Your mind is a scary place. I think it's what I love most about you."

Karl just smiled and kept eating.

***

Orlando was in the middle of a very nice dream about tandem surfing with Sean at Bells Beach when the cacophonous sound of voices – had he mentioned they were fuck-off loud – started to wake him up. He mumbled his annoyance, scooting farther away from the irritating sounds. An arm curled around him, hauled him against a very nice and very warm chest. Much better. Screw tandem surfing, man, he had a real life Sean to snuggle with.

But the voices wouldn't stop their incessant talking.

"Sean." No movement. "Sean." A little louder this time, but muffled by the pillow. "Tell th'neighbors t'stuff it."

"No neighbors," Sean mumbled, burying his face in Orlando's neck. Tickled.

"I know, that's..." Then one of the muffled voices cut through the fog invading his brain. He thought it sounded like Dom. Was it time for breakfast already?

"Seems a right shame to wake them."

"I know, they're rather cute like this. Sort of like kittens all curled together."

"Kind of makes a person believe in fairies and leprechauns."

"Suppose it must, since it had to be the work of some otherworldly being to get Orlando to see what was right in front of him."

When Orlando mustered the energy to crack open an eyelid, Dom and Billy smiled down at him from the foot of the bed. They were dressed in identical lemon yellow t-shirts and purple and green board shorts. He had to still be dreaming.

"Good afternoon, sunshine," Dom said, and saluted him with a bottle of beer.

"We were wondering when you'd come out and join us," Billy added.

"Join you?" Christ, even his voice sounded rusty, disused.

Beside him, the sheets rustled and Sean peered out, hair sticking out in all directions. "Wassat?"

"Lawrence has the grill on," Billy said, with a bright pixieish smile. "Oh, and Dave brought over some of those stuffed mushrooms you like so much."

"Oh, and Harry brought more beer," Dom added. "Although you should get a move on before Lawrence drinks it all."

"You've any idea what they're on about?" Sean asked, staring at Orlando like Orlando had any clue what was going on. Just because he spent a fair amount of time with the tossers didn't mean he understood them any better than anyone else.

Orlando just shrugged and looked at Dom and Billy.

"We'll leave you two to get dressed," Billy said with a friendly leer. "Unless, of course, you need help..."

"I can't take him anywhere," Dom lamented with a shake of his head. "C'mon, Bils, let's leave the lovebirds in peace. We'll be out back with everyone else when you're ready."

After they left, Orlando and Sean just stared at each other for a minute. "What'd'you suppose he meant by everyone else?" Orlando asked.

"I'm not entirely sure I want to know," Sean replied, then grinned. "But I will say I like the idea of waking up with you in my bed."

Orlando was positive his entire body was glowing. "Get used to it," he replied, and leaned in for a light kiss that turned into two, then three.

They were both thoroughly disheveled by the time they crawled out of bed. Orlando didn't think anyone would blame them. He'd had to dress in his clothes from yesterday, but he was sure no one would notice or mind. Not like he'd spent any time in them anyway. He and Sean had, for the most part, spent all of their time together naked. Which was an excellent way to spend one's time, especially where Sean was involved. Orlando planned to do quite a lot of it.

When they strolled, hand in hand, to the back porch, they found Lawrence and Craig had set up a croquet game with Dom and Billy, and were (it looked like) trying to explain how to play to a thoroughly confused-looking Elijah. Americans, Orlando thought to himself, shaking his head. Harry was manning the grill, and Orlando's stomach grumbled at the scent of freshly seared meat. Karl and Dave had set up an impromptu poker game on a folding table with Bernard and Marton. Dave, predictably, had the largest pile of chips. Orlando sincerely hoped they weren't playing for actual money.

Then Viggo walked through the back gate, in shorts, barefoot, grey speckles all over his arms and legs, and holding a large, clumsily wrapped package. "Just the men I wanted to see," he proclaimed, and shoved the package in Sean's arms.

Sean looked at the package suspiciously, then Viggo. "What's this, then?"

Viggo rocked back on his heels. "Open it."

"I don't trust that look," Sean grumbled, but ripped off the wrapping, then held up what had to be the single ugliest sculpture that Orlando had ever seen. It was painted in shades of teal and raspberry and sort of resembled a deformed midget tree.

"What in sweet fuck...?"

"Housewarming gift for the both of you," Viggo grinned.

Orlando and Sean exchanged a horrified glance. "You've got to be joking," Orlando stated.

"I never joke about art," Viggo solemnly replied, then turned and headed for the cooler.

"I can't figure out which way is up," Sean said, turning the sculpture over in his hands.

"I don't think it matters, mate. Even upside down, that thing is butt ugly."

"I've never understood the phrase," Karl said, strolling up to them and pressing a beer bottle in Orlando's hands. "You've seen Sean's arse. I'd hardly call it ugly."

"Well, no, but that's not the point," Orlando replied, thankful for the beer and the distraction from staring in horrified fascination at the monstrosity in Sean's hands.

"The point is, this thing is definitely going on the table next poker night," Sean stated, then fixed Karl with a meaningful gaze. "You do your part?"

"I did," Karl replied. "See you did yours."

"Aye, I did." Then Sean leaned in and pressed a light kiss to Karl's lips. "Happiness suits you, love."

"As it does you."

"And now, if you'll both excuse me, I have to find someplace to hide this thing," Sean said, and left Karl and Orlando on the porch.

"How did you know?" Orlando asked, once Sean was out of earshot.

Karl wrapped a friendly arm around his shoulders. "You were always looking at Sean like I looked at Harry when I first met him."

"Oh." Orlando looked at Harry, who was laughing at something Marton was saying, the light sound carrying in the breeze. "And you and Harry...?"

Karl followed Orlando's gaze, and his smile was one of the most beautiful things Orlando had ever seen. "Better than before."

"I'm glad," Orlando said, squeezing at Karl's waist. It was about time the two of them got back together...even if he was – and probably would always be – at a loss on why they'd split in the first place. "And, um, thank you. Not just for, y'know, helping me, but...for taking such good care of him." He still had no idea how he was going to live up to his own expectations, and follow in Karl's considerable footsteps, but he was determined to give it his best shot.

"He's a good man." Karl nudged lightly at Orlando's shoulder. "And stop worrying. You're more than up to the task."

Orlando didn't even wonder how Karl had managed to read his mind. "You really think so?"

"I know."

***

An hour or so later, Orlando found Sean leaning against one of the porch columns, watching everyone with a fond expression as he sipped from his bottle of beer. When Orlando stepped up next to him, Sean held his free hand out. Orlando took it, fingers sliding together easily. He couldn't remember anything feeling so natural, so right.

"We are blessed men," Sean observed.

Orlando didn't have to ask what Sean meant. He'd been feeling the same way all afternoon. "In all the ways that matter."

No matter how these movies did – and he hoped they made history – Orlando knew he'd already found everything he was meant to find. He watched as Bernard tapped against the side of his wine glass with a spoon until everyone quieted down. Then he raised his glass and motioned everyone around him to do the same.

"A toast, gentlemen. To Karl and Harry, Sean and Orlando, and everyone else who found something of value, whether it be love or friendship or a grand adventure to tell the grandkids one day." Bernard's gaze swept across the group. "May you never forget this moment, where you come from, and where your heart truly lives."

Orlando met Sean's smile. They clinked their bottles together, and smiled in perfect harmony.

Life truly did not get better than this.


***



(Epilogue)


"So, after you get to Malta, I think you should –"

Sean only listened with half an ear as his agent droned on and on and rummaged through the refrigerator, phone tucked between his ear and shoulder. His agent showed no signs of needing a response beyond the occasional grunt. Which as a good thing, as Sean typically only spoke in grunts first thing in the morning, especially before his tea. Of course, he was better at mornings than Orlando, but vampires were probably better at mornings than Orlando.

He grinned in triumph when he found a bottle of orange juice that hadn’t expired yet, and went to the cabinet for a glass, still only half-listening to his agent. The floorboards upstairs creaked, so he went ahead and poured a second glass. Orlando would be stumbling downstairs any second, and, since there were far better things he could be doing with his time, like taking Orlando back to bed (where he thought they'd both be happier), he tried to hurry the conversation along.

"Anything else?" he asked, injecting his voice with just the right amount of friendly impatience.

"Yeah, one more." Sean heard papers shuffling from the other end of the line. "They cast Paris."

"Yeah?"

Sean gave Orlando a warm, intimate smile as Orlando filled the doorway, all golden skin and tousled dark hair, in a pair of truly hideous boxers and nothing else. Sean thought maybe they were bright pink polka-dots, but he couldn't be – "What did you say?"

"Your friend from the Rings shoot," his agent repeated. "Orlando Bloom. He joins the cast in two weeks."

***

"I think I can’t believe you didn't tell me," Sean said, pushing his empty plate aside.

"I wanted it to be a surprise," Orlando grinned, brushing an errant strand of hair from Sean's forehead. "C'mon, you know you're not really upset."

"No," Sean grumbled. Because, alright, fine. He wasn't. Really. It was just – "I had to find out from my agent."

"Yes, but now that you know, we can plan. And we can fuck all over new exotic locations," Orlando replied, kissing the crinkle between Sean's brows. "Imagine how much fun that'll be."

Sean snorted. "One-track mind, I swear."

Orlando cupped a hand behind his ear. "Is that a kettle I hear?"

"Piss off."

"Besides, think on it. You know Vig'll come to visit, if only to try to terrorize us."

"So?" Sean replied, confused. Viggo was constantly either sending offbeat gifts or popping around just long enough to wreak his usual havoc, then be on his way. Sean was used to it.

Orlando's grin was this side of diabolical. "Which means he'll meet Eric."

Sean blinked. Just the thought... He remembered meeting Eric when Orlando was shooting 'Black Hawk Down'. Eric's idea of an introduction had been to sweep Sean off his feet in the biggest bear hug he'd ever had, and to give him a loud, wet kiss on the lips before telling him that since he'd adopted Orlando as his little brother, that meant that Sean was his brother, too, and they should celebrate properly. Sean didn't remember much about that night, but he remembered his incredible hangover the next day with vivid clarity. And the idea of all of Eric's considerable energy and zest coming up against Viggo's genius brand of lunacy...

He'd have to see about getting Karl and Harry to come out for a visit during the shoot. If there was any person on the planet who would appreciate the upcoming fireworks of Eric and Viggo meeting, it'd be Karl. Besides, Sean still owed Karl for helping him and Orlando find each other. He couldn't think of a better way to repay him.

"Christ, you're a bloody genius," he finally said, half awed, half scared to death.

Low, warm laughter rumbled against his ear. "I know. It's why you love me."

"That I do," Sean replied, and met Orlando's smiling lips with his own.


End.







Author's Notes: Final word count: 68,000. Holy fuck.
I want to thank [livejournal.com profile] afra_schatz for the original request (told you that I'd give you everything you'd originally asked for, and all of the pairings *g*), [livejournal.com profile] giselleslash for encouraging me to write this, [livejournal.com profile] cupiscent for the first beta and for telling me it needed to be longer (boy, did it ever), and, most especially, I want to thank [livejournal.com profile] the_stowaway, for betaing all 29 parts of this with patience & diligence & sometimes even outright enthusiasm, and for kicking my ass when I needed it & holding my hand when I needed it & keeping an eye on the entire thing to make sure I wasn't veering totally off course. If this fic makes any sense, it's because she was keeping an eagle eye on everything. Thank you. :)

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