| Title: Surprise Author: Jo Pairing: Karl Urban/??; Karl Urban/Harry Sinclair implied Rating: PG13 Summary: Harry gives Karl a birthday present, but it's not what Karl expects Disclaimer: If you believe this is real, then I'm fucking Orlando Bloom on a nightly basis. Notes: Okay, so it's a day late, but real life called and it was more important. *shrugs* Just a little bunny that bit yesterday for Karl's birthday. Your basic fluff, really. Thanks to Brenda for the title! *mwah*
Karl slides his arms around Harry's waist from behind, rests his head on Harry's shoulder. 'This' is a surprise birthday party, complete with a cake, balloons (though Karl can't quite figure that out), presents, and everyone who is currently in New Zealand for the reshoots. The party is in full swing, drinks are flowing, and people are enjoying themselves. "Ah, but I did," Harry replies. He doesn't turn to face Karl. He just leans back into the embrace, places his hand over Karl's clasped ones. "You only turn 30 once." "You haven't given me my present yet." "You noticed that." Harry smiles, sips his drink. Karl's present is tucked away in a guestroom at the moment. "It's not going to embarrass me, is it?" Karl is suddenly wary as he recalls the troupe of male strippers that Harry sprang on him last year. In front of Karl's mother. Karl still hears about that occasionally. "No, you'll like it." Harry laughs as he slides from Karl's embrace. "I will, huh?" "Yeah." Harry drops a light kiss on Karl's lips, then winks. "You've wanted it for two years." Now Karl is confused. Two years? He can't think of a single thing he's wanted that long and hasn't already gotten. Harry just grins, tells Karl to mingle, and then walks away. Karl watches as his lover stops to talk to Viggo. "Happy birthday, mate." Karl turns, sees Dave grinning at him. He can't help but grin back. "Thanks." "Harry still hasn't told you what he got you?" There's something in Dave's expression that makes Karl believe Dave knows what the present is. Something in those blue eyes hints at a shared joke that doesn't include Karl. "No, not even a hint." Karl pauses, shrugs. "Well, one hint. He said I've wanted it for two years." Dave looks like he's considering something, then he nods. "So you have." "You know what it is." It's not a question. "Course I do," Dave says with a wink. "Just about everyone here does." He looks around, smiles at something he sees in the room. "Actually, I think everyone but you knows now." "Fuck," Karl mutters as Dave pats him on the back before wandering off. While being the birthday boy is nice and all, it sucks having to wait for the last present. Especially when the last present is from Harry. Who is now missing. Karl stops with his drink halfway to his mouth. He studies the faces in the room carefully. Yes, Harry is definitely missing. So is Viggo. Curious. Karl barely has time to consider that before Harry and Viggo walk - slink, actually - back into the room. They're wearing identical, 'I know something you don't' grins and they make a beeline for Karl. "Time for your last present," Harry says while Viggo turns a chair around. Harry pushes Karl into it, gestures at Viggo. "About damn time," Karl mumbles, aware of the gleeful, expectant faces surrounding him. "Where is it?" "Patience." Harry turns away, takes two steps, and then Viggo's hands are over Karl's eyes. Karl knows the hands belong to Viggo because he can smell film developer, the scent of which still clings faintly to Viggo's skin. Somewhere a door opens, then closes. Soft giggles - from Elijah and Liv, Karl thinks - are swiftly hushed, and the air surrounding Karl is charged with excitement. He can hear footsteps and quiet murmuring, thinks that one of the voices might be Harry's. And then complete silence as Viggo removes his hands. Karl opens his eyes, blinks rapidly to clear his vision. When he can focus, he blinks again. Standing in front of him, wearing faded jeans, a black shirt, and a broad smile, is Orlando Bloom. Who is supposed to be in Australia right now. Who isn't supposed to return to New Zealand for another four weeks. Guess Harry's managed to pull another rabbit out of his hat. Karl's eyes shift and he sees amused amber eyes watching him. Harry grins and looks - at least from where Karl's sitting - entirely too pleased with himself. Karl's eyes shift back, and now Orlando is strolling towards him, slender fingers unbuttoning the black shirt until Orlando can shrug out of it. And then Karl blinks again. Lines of black ink cover Orlando's chest and stomach. As Orlando draws near, Karl can make out individual names and words. Each person there has signed Orlando's body, turning him into a living birthday card. Karl can see Viggo's name arching around Orlando's left nipple. Elijah's message scrawls up Orlando's ribs. Dom and Billy signed the flat stomach. Before Karl can read anything else, Orlando is kneeling in the chair, straddling Karl's lap. "Want to see where Harry signed?" Orlando's voice is a seductive purr in Karl's ear. His thumbs pop open the button to his jeans, and Karl can see Harry's distinctive writing disappearing beneath the soft denim. "You might want to unwrap the rest of your gift in private, love." Karl turns his head and his lips are captured by Harry's for a long, lazy kiss that curls Karl's toes. Gift? It all falls into place and Karl is stunned. His gift - what he's wanted for two years - is Orlando. Harry has given him Orlando for his birthday. And Orlando, it seems, is a very enthusiastic gift. Orlando slides from Karl's lap and pulls Karl to his feet. And then Orlando is kissing him and it's better than Karl imagined. There's cheering and clapping and whistling, and someone - God, it's Viggo - is singing. As Orlando pulls him from the room, Karl makes a mental note to give Harry a proper thank you later. Much later.
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