| Title: Five Ways In Which Karl Celebrated His Birthday Author: Jo Pairing: Karl Urban/Dominic Monaghan; Karl Urban/Josh Hartnett; Karl Urban/Orlando Bloom; Karl Urban/Harry Sinclair implied Rating: PG13 Summary: The title pretty much is the summary. Disclaimer: 100% Fiction Notes: In honor of Karl's 36th birthday on June 7th. May he never know just how we celebrate it. *g* Much thanks to the_stowaway, mirorelle, azewewish, simplysonia, and dawning_star for the prompts.
"Da, Da, can I have some money?" Hunter's shriek preceded him into the room as he came skidding across the floor on bare feet, his younger brother toddling behind on unsteady feet. Karl looked up, eyebrow raised, and pushed his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose. "For?" "Ice cream," Hunter grinned, dirty toes scuffing the wooden floor, just as Harry flicked the curtain aside and said, "Ice cream truck's here." "Ah." A smile and a ruffle of Hunter's dark hair, and Karl pulled a few bills out of his pocket. He held them just out of Hunter's reach and grinned. "You gonna buy some for your brother?" "Yes, Da," Hunter said, not quite rolling his eyes. "I need more money." "Ice cream doesn't cost that much." "It's special ice cream." Karl just stared, then blinked when Harry laughed and handed Hunter more money. "This is an argument you won't win." "Special ice cream?" The eyebrow went up again, and Karl calmly looked at Harry as the boys tore out of the house amidst shrieks and laughter. Harry just shrugged. "You really want to argue with a seven year old about the specialness of ice cream?" "Well…" Karl trailed off as the boys came scampering back in, each of them holding a wrapped ice cream in each hand. "Making piglets of yourself, are you?" "Nope," Hunter said, grinning as he hand Karl a push-up pop. "Happy birthday!" Hazel eyes focused on the ice cream, then on Hunter, then quickly shifted to Harry at the muffled snort from his side of the table. "What?" "You just bought your own birthday ice cream." "Shut up and eat your fudge bar."
Water dripped off his hair, trickled down his shoulders and chest, and Karl tipped his head back to enjoy the light breeze blowing across his body. It had been a good decision to come here for this. His lashes flickered, then opened as a warm body dropped down to lean against his shoulder. "Thought we agreed no deep thoughts," Dom said, handing over the extra beer he carried, and wrinkling his nose at Karl. "Wasn't," Karl replied, taking a long swallow and smiling. He dug his toes into the sand, wriggling them against the soft grit, and stared at the sunset. "Just thinking this was a good idea." "Yeah?" Dom smiled at that, face glowing with delight when Karl nodded. "Glad you came, y'know." "Been a long time." Long fingers picked at the label on the bottle for a long moment. Then Karl tilted his head to look at Dom in the dying light. "Ever see any of them?" "Yeah, sure, sometimes," Dom replied, and pulled his knees up to wrap his arms around his legs. "Not often." Karl nodded. "Talk to Vigs all the time, but the rest? It's hit or miss for most of 'em, except Marton and Lawrence. Everyone's too busy." "Yeah." Several minutes passed in silence, the light waning as the sun slipped below the horizon, the waters of the Pacific darkening towards black. Then Dom shifted, bumped Karl's shoulder with his. "Here now. And I'm not too busy." "That why you invited me?" Karl couldn't help smiling as he watched Dom. "Nope," Dom murmured, with a small smirk. He reached over to clink his bottle against Karl's. "Happy birthday, mate."
Karl woke to bright sunlight (and just who the bloody hell had opened the curtains, anyway?) and muffled banging from somewhere downstairs. "Th'hell," he mumbled, kicking his feet free of tangled sheets before rolling out of bed. It was then that he noticed Josh wasn't sleeping beside him. "Huh." Yawning and scratching his chest, he stumbled downstairs, naked as the day he was born. The banging continued, accompanied now by clattering and muttering. Karl followed the noise and stopped in the kitchen doorway. "The hell…" His eyes moved around the kitchen. It looked as if every pot and pan he owned was dirty. Along with half the bowls and most of the utensils. There wasn't a single inch of counter space that wasn't covered with flour, broken eggs, or a dirty dish. There was a small puddle of what looked like milk in front of the refrigerator. Blinking, Karl let his gaze rest on the culprit. Josh stood by the stove, cake tins in his hand, sheepish smile on his face. Plus a smear of flour and butter across one cheek. And Karl wasn't entirely sure, but it looked like Josh had cake batter spattered all the way up to his elbows. "You, um…" Josh flushed, swallowed. "You're awake." "So're you," Karl said, looking around again in resigned amusement. "Why does it look like --" "-- a bakery exploded in here?" Josh shrugged, set the tins on the stove. "I, um, was making a cake. For you. Your birthday." "Don't bake much, do you?" Openly grinning now, Karl moved closer. He watched in delight as the flush crept down Josh's face to his face. "I'll clean up." Dark lashes flickered as Josh's eyes widened when Karl reached out and caught his hand. A soft squeak escaped when Karl lifted the hand to his mouth, tongue flickering out to swirl around Josh's fingers. "Cake-flavored Josh," Karl murmured, with a wicked grin. His free hand dipped into the cake tin, scooping up more batter as he sank to his knees. "My favorite…"
It was late in the afternoon when the doorbell rang. When he opened it, Karl wasn't sure what to think. A young man stood there holding a single yellow rose with a spray of greenery in a crystal bud vase. His shirt let Karl know he worked at a nearby florist. "Karl Urban?" When Karl nodded, the kid held out the vase. "Delivery for you. Sign here, please." Bemused, Karl signed, then looked at the flower in his hand as the kid wished him a good day and left. All the card said was "Happy Birthday, mate." Finally, with a muttered shrug and a muttered "huh," he went back inside. The vase set on the table as he finished making the pasta sauce and put the water on to boil. Giving the flower a long look, Karl sat down and picked up the card, turning it over to study both sides. "Who sent you?" he murmured, tapping the card against his chin as he looked at the flower. Of course, it didn't answer him. Just then, the phone rang and Karl almost jumped out of his skin. He snatched it up and managed to get out a "Hello?" "Karl? You okay, mate?" "Yeah, yeah, I'm good," Karl said, smiling at the sound of Orlando's voice. "Just wondering who sent me this flower." "Flower?" Orlando sounded amused. "Yellow rose. Delivery guy brought it 'round 'bout an hour ago." "Your favorite." Yes, Orlando was definitely amused. "Mmhmm." "Not many people know that, yeah? Outside your family, I mean." "Just Vigs and Harry." Karl paused, eyes narrowed in suspicion. "And you." "Think Vigs would send you a flower?" "Not bloody likely. And I doubt Harry knows my address even though he's always over." "So that leaves…" "Wanker. Why'd you send me a flower?" "Happy birthday, mate," Orlando said, just as the doorbell rang again.
"Haven't done this in a while," Karl murmured into dark curls. He smiled as Orlando shifted, body pressing closer to Karl's side, long legs tangling with Karl's. "Fucked off to the middle of nowhere, you mean?" Orlando's face moved, lips curving into a smile against Karl's chest. Karl couldn't remember the last time he'd been this content, this relaxed. Actually, he could. It was the last time he'd spent more than a day in Orlando's presence. "Yeah, that." "Almost two years," Orlando said, and lifted his head to look at Karl. Lazy, heavy lidded dark eyes bored into Karl's, and Orlando gave him a slow smile. "Last time was that tiny island in the Caribbean." "Mmm…" Karl grinned at the memory and ran his fingertips up Orlando's spine. "Ten whole days of you naked and subject to my every whim." A nearly perfectly groomed eyebrow arched. "That how you remember it?" "You remember it different?" Karl's smile was a challenge, and he knew Orlando wouldn't be able to resist. "I distinctly recall you on your hands and knees, begging so sweet for my cock up your arse." "Like I said, subject to my every whim." "Cheeky bastard," Orlando said, rolling over to pin Karl to the bed, shifting just enough to bring their hardening cocks into alignment. "Ooh, feisty," Karl murmured, flashing Orlando a wicked smile as his hands framed lean hips. "You're just asking to be shagged through the mattress again, aren't you?" "Actually, I was thinking we could take it slow this time. Enjoy it." "Oh, you were, were you?" "Well, it is my birthday…"
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