horseboykarl: (Karl loves NZ)
After getting some interesting vintages out of the wine cellar, including one of the bottles of Camigliano, I bring my finds to the kitchen. Sean's got his hands in something for dinner, the sleeves of his jumper pushed up to his elbows. I whinged enough that he agreed to come up with something for Paris.

Seeing him at work in the kitchen does things to me, probably because that's where our first, never-to-be-forgotten kiss took place, but it lights a warm fire low in my belly, a mixture of lust and love. And I fit myself behind him, nosing the scent at the back of his neck, smiling when he turns around for a quick kiss.

I leave him alone and get out the stuff for the marinade for the lamb chops. I whisk that together and get the chops soaking before I wander outside to get the outdoor hearth lit and pull the cushions for the chairs out of their storage. It's cold tonight, but we've got
plenty of wine, good food, and friends coming around in a little while so it should be fun to sit out here at least for a bit.

Have trouble finding the place? )
horseboykarl: (Karl loves NZ)
Just the thought of al the work involved in moving makes me want to climb back in bed and forget about it. But Sean pointed out that any potential buyers aren’t going to want to see my shit lying around everywhere, so if we’re gonna do this, I’ve got to organise the stuff that’s accumulated. I’ve lived here . . . I think back . . . almost five years. Not heaps long, but with all the Rings stuff in the barn and the stuff in my workshop, there’s lots that needs doing.

So I’m up in the barn loft, sorting through the boxes of Tolkien crap that I put up here when I though Éomer was a symptom of my delusions. I’ve come a long way since then, had a lot of help with it too, I think with a smile. I miss Bernard all of a sudden, he’s so easy to talk to, I’d tell him how happy I am, finally.

Sean’s off at his own place, seeing to things, especially cleaning up after his plumbing problem. My house is definitely more of a issue than his, because I’ve been in it longer, but his isn’t in showing condition yet either. He said he’d be back this evening, but I hear a car in the yard, and yell for him.

“Sean! I’m in the barn.” I lean over the railing, waiting for him. )
horseboykarl: (karl close)
"Dave, are you fuckng out of your mind? Last time we tried this, I nearly killed you!
horseboykarl: (karl 1)
We finally get sick of eating frozen steaks, and there's nothing else in the house, so Sean goes back home and I go to the store. After being gone over a month, I've got heaps to restock.

Hi, mate. Your shift is done pretending he's in films?
horseboykarl: (eomer face)
Karl: I've got two weekends looming empty until Sean comes back. I don't know exactly what's going on there, because we didn't have much time in the morning to get me out the door and off to the studio. And then he left. I hate this feeling of not knowing and not being able to do anything about it. But I've got no choice but to wait.

At least I can find something to do. Dave wants help finding a horse for Paris, so I call him and ask if he wants to go this quickly because blondie is available. Turns out the timing is just perfect, because the horse is to be a Christmas present. For some reason, that just makes me grin. I'm glad my old friend has found so much happiness. And I offer to keep the horse in my barn until the time is right if necessary.

I call Éomer, and after some debate about whether he should take the truck or the bike to Dave's, in case they find a horse, I remember that Dave has his own trailer. So I shift out, leaving Éomer to get his leathers on for the ride to Dave's. )
horseboykarl: (Default)
I pick up the phone several times, only to put it down again. I think carefully about what I want to say to him. He’s my friend, he deserves the truth, but the only the truth he can understand, not the dangerous one.

Finally, I go through with it and I’m almost relieved to get his voice mail. “Dave . . . it’s Karl. Just wanted to apologise to you for the way I was acting the other day.”

“Thing is . . . Eric and I broke up and . . . it put me into a tailspin. I’ve been a jerk, I know it and I’m sorry. But I . . . uh, “ . . . let Théodred fuck me into the mattress and I feel much better. Yeah. No. Not that truth either. I know he doesn’t like the idea of him with Éomer, so I’m pretty sure he’d object to me with anybody who looks like Paris. So . . .

“I, er . . . some time’s passed and I’ve gotten some perspective on the whole thing. I’m better, eating like you wanted me to. Well . . . later, mate.”

I hang up and go back to my packing. I’ve cut myself off from where I really want to be for long enough. I’ve regained some of my balance, sufficient that I won’t fall apart on her, but I can throw my grief on her now without endangering her. She understands heartbreak. I’ll stay with her until it’s time to start work on Outlander.

The horseboys can get together without anyone the wiser that I’m gone. I’ll leave Smokey and Ire with her and drive back for their meetings. Paris calls my cell, so he won’t know where he’s getting connected to.

Ire flops in the backseat, content, while I head north. I find that I’m actually looking forward to seeing the vineyards in the springtime.
horseboykarl: (frowning demons)
Sid was as good as his word, and I have a pile of scripts and story treatments on my table. Sorting through them, evaluating them, trying to picture them in my head . . . all of that has kept my mind busy and my memories at bay.

There’s only one bloody problem with this pile, though. They’re all some variation of characters I’ve played before. Some badass or another on one side or another, killing his way through anyone who gets in his way.

After what I’ve seen and what I’ve done, I don’t think I can play a bloke like that right at the moment. I’ve committed myself to Outlander already, but I hope by October I can manage that role. It hurts, thinking that one of the attractive things about that project is that it’s filming here, in Zid and I took it so I wouldn’t have to leave Eric. I push him out of my mind and continue to go over sheets.

So after I put all of the pages that creep me out in the ‘no’ pile there’s only one left. This one has possibilities. There’s a note on it from Sid that reads, “They like your physical presence on screen, but they’re not sure you can also do sensitive and sexy. I sent them the extended edition of Return of the King, but they want to do a screen test with you to see if there’s any heat between you and DiCaprio. If you’re agreeable, I’ll set it up.”

I tap the pages thoughtfully against the cast on my palm. Good thing I started growing my hair out again, it’ll have to be long for this one. This director could really change things for me, but I’ve never met him before and I’m not sure how to approach the audition. He’s offbeat and his movies are surreal and I’ve got no bloody idea how to handle him.

Luckily, I do know someone who has worked for him that I can call for advice. And maybe it’s time I started reaching out for my friends, not to burden them with my problems, but just to reassure myself that they’re still there. If nothing else, that ride with Jay showed me that holing up like I have been has just been hurting me worse.

Don’t need to look this number up. “Dave?” )
horseboykarl: (Karl loves NZ)
Dave shows up and admires my new truck, so I decide it's time to show it off.

"I'm kidnapping you for the day."
horseboykarl: (thinking)
The morning after Cupid visits Karl

The sun comes up while I’m still staring at the list, wondering how badly my life is going to suck if any of these people show up in it. Just when I had things almost where I wanted them. Running into Viggo and Orlando the other night seemed to have helped, because Eric was a lot more relaxed by the time we left and I’m pretty sure we’ve gotten past all that insecurity on his part.

The thought of breakfast turns my stomach, but I force myself to eat something and then I shower, trying to keep myself occupied until I think Dave might possibly be awake. At eight-thirty I can’t take it anymore and I dial his cell.

“Dave? . . . Yeah, sorry it’s so early, mate, but I need to see you.”

“As soon as possible. Where are you?”

“All right, I’m on my way.”

I hang up before he can protest, shrugging on my leather jacket and grabbing my helmet. I forgot my gloves and the chill air over my skin clears my head. I pull up in front of his cabin and march to his door, banging on it.

“Hey, you got any coffee?” )
horseboykarl: (Karl loves NZ)
This morning has been four days. Four days since my bargain with Théodred, and I have not sensed my shift. I even got slightly pissed last night, not enough to be sick today, but enough that my mind wasn’t capable of stopping him. And he did nothing. Freedom. He promised me a week of freedom and that’s how I feel. Free. I roll over, tangled in my sheets, being lazy, enjoying the feeling of relaxing mentally as well as physically.

The day is gorgeous, slanting sunlight pouring in through my windows. The trees are shifting lightly in the small breeze. I have some scripts to read over, but I can’t be bothered. Too nice a day to stay inside.

One small thing marring my contentment. I have to fix things with a certain redhead. Not the hot one, I smirk, feeling a lazy stirring of interest. The annoying one. Okay, well, he’s hot too, but mostly annoying. I’ve been an arse, but dammit, my head has been totally and beyond messed up. I hope he forgives me for everything and I shake my head at the long list of things I’ve screwed up in that direction.

Time to plan, Urban. He did say I could use his beach anytime I wanted, course that was before life went all to shit. But he seemed awfully proud of that pretty filly of his. Maybe if I showed up with Smokey Joe, and flattered him a bit about his riding skills, we could have a bit of a gallop and talk.

I pull on my usual uniform, jeans, boots and a T-shirt, hitch the trailer to the truck and get Smokey. I’ve been neglecting him, too, can’t remember the last time I had him out. He’s excited, prancing a bit, but we get into the trailer easy.

I drive over to Dave’s and then my plans hit a snag, he’s not home. I sit on the steps for a moment, completely lost. Now what? It’s still a beautiful day, so I decide to take Smokey out anyway. Maybe he’ll be home later and we can still ride. I let down the ramp and Smokey dances out.

“Okay, big fella,” I laugh. “I know, I’m ready for the wind, too.” I pull the bridle over his ears and then decide against the saddle, living dangerously, but, bugger it, just feels like that kind of day. I decide to go bareback too and strip off the shirt and boots. The sun feels glorious on my back as I heave myself aboard, and guide the gelding down the path to the beach. We race down the strand a ways, working the kinks out and come back slowly. I know I’m delaying what I really came here for, but it’s too fucking nice out here. I finally give Smokey his head and lean over his withers, petting him and talking to him as he ambles along. I will wait a little while longer and then go back up and see if Dave has come home yet.

It’s just too great a day to leave just yet. )
horseboykarl: (Default)
I woke up the next morning far more hurt than I had realized I was when I left the bar last night. Only one thing to do . . . call Dave.


horseboykarl: (Default)

February 2011

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