Marton Csokas looked up from his dog-eared copy of 'The Count of Monte Cristo' to see his colleague and friend, Craig Parker, rubbing his shin and glaring at the offending object that he'd just run into, namely a black equipment trunk. Marton raised an eyebrow at Craig as the blue-eyed man looked up at him. Craig just shook his head and hobbled over to the empty lawn chair next to Marton's and sat down heavily with a gusty sigh, which only made Marton all the more curious. It took a lot to make Craig upset, much less angry as hell, and his anger was currently rolling off the man in waves. However, Marton retained his questions, knowing that Craig did not like having his privacy invaded - If Craig Parker had a problem and wanted to talk about it (which was rare), he would come to you; until then, you didn't say a word about it. So, Marton turned back to his book without so much as a second glance at the man next to him, and soon found himself immersed in his book once more... Until...
Damn. Marton looked up at Craig, slightly put off that the other man had chosen to speak right when the main character was escaping from the prison in a body bag. He loved Craig to death, but as sexy as he found the shorter man, this was not a good place to stop Marton from reading, especially since it was his favourite book.
"Are you busy?"
Marton sighed and tucked the scrap of paper he'd been using as a bookmark into the book, setting it down on the table between the two men.
"What is it Craig?"
"Uhm... " Craig suddenly found Marton's coke bottle to be rather interesting, seeing as it was one of the old-fashioned glass ones and the heat was causing condensation, gather on the sides, and roll down the glass and puddle carefully on the table on which the bottle sat. Marton found this amusing, seeing as he'd never pictured Craig to be the kind of man to get all shy and choked up like this - even if he did have a problem. Craig cleared his throat nervously, pulling Marton from his thoughts as Craig opened his mouth to speak. "I have a slight problem I could use your help with... "
Marton raised one dark brow at this, but, being the calm, collected man he was, said nothing as Craig continued, "You see, I've recently come across a realization... Well" - he rubbed at the back of his neck - "I've noticed some really bad tension between Dave and Karl, and I realized it was because they're attracted to one another... I was wondering... Well - "
"If I'd help you set them up?" Marton finished, then said with a slightly cocky smirk, "Seeing as I am the romantic one of all the supporting actors?"
"Well, yeah," Craig replied.
Marton shook his head in amusement. "And what brought this on, might I ask?"
Craig scowled and crossed his arms. "The tension between them is starting to get on my nerves."
Marton stared in wonder at that. They were starting to get on Craig's nerves? Marton would say that they'd not only fried Craig's nerves, but were currently working on fraying his last one. Marton shook his head at the novelty of this before glancing up at the sound of a trailer door opening and closing. Slightly down the lane, three trailers down from his own, which he and Craig were seated in front of, stood Cate Blanchett, the most annoying woman on the face of the planet... One who could not get it through her thick skull that Marton was not only not interested in starting a relationship with her, but that she was the reason why Marton had come out of the closet and announced a couple of weeks into filming that he was indeed, gay, and very proud of the fact. Only Ian McKellen had held a knowing look at why Marton had announced this loud and clear after having dealt with her annoying hanging-on-Marton's-arm-for-the-sake-of-it game. As a result, Cate had become more persistent, and Marton had begun avoiding her when not filming.
"Craig, I'll help you do anything you want to do with those two as long as it isn't here," Marton stated as Craig looked up in surprise to find Marton staring over his shoulder with a look of horror on his face. Craig turned and rolled his eyes before rising, pulling Marton to his feet and unceremoniously shoving the older man into his trailer without so much as an 'Alright then, into the trailer with you'. Marton peeked out the curtains in the window of his trailer as Cate approached Craig with an aire of on-the-hunt-ness about her.
"Hello Craig," Cate said, stopping. Craig looked up from Marton's copy of 'The Count of Monte Cristo'.
"Hello Cate, what can I do for you?"
"Have you seen Marton?"
"No, I haven't, sorry," Craig said, not sounding sorry at all, but Cate seemed to believe it before she said her thanks and left the grouping of trailers behind. Marton emerged from his trailer with a sigh, and Craig spoke without looking up from the book, "You owe me."
"I know that," Marton replied, with all-knowing-ness. "I'm helping you set Dave and Karl up, remember?"
"Right," Craig said, turning to Marton as he sat down. "About that... "
Karl Urban had had enough. Enough of Dave Wenham's cute expressions and pretty eyes. Enough of Dave Wenham's perfect smile and fluid grace. Karl Urban had just had enough! He couldn't find one flaw - one flaw! - in that utterly beautiful being, and it was killing him. Killing him to know that what he saw in Dave, everyone else did, and that the younger man had absolutely no fucking clue! No clue that he was beautiful, no clue that he had every single man and woman he came across staring after him like love-sick teenagers, and he had no clue that Karl was in love with him, and it hurt. Hurt to know that he couldn't have that perfect Australian man, hurt to spend so much time with him and not be able to touch him.
David Wenham was absolutely clueless to a fact that a blind, deaf and stupid man could see: that Karl Urban was in love with him.
And it pissed Karl off to no end.
Of course, Karl had no idea that while he brooded, he wasn't the only one doing so, because in the trailer next to his sat the man of his affections in the same brooding position, arms crossed over a muscled chest, eyebrows knit together, thinking the same things Karl was about Karl himself.
The only people that had a clue about the chemistry between them were Marton Csokas and Craig Parker, who, currently, were hidden away in Marton's trailer devising a way to bring them together in the least subtle way they could manage. Craig was ready to lock the two of them in a room together and not let them out until they fixed things - fixed each other - good and proper. And the only thing holding him back was Marton, who was about ready to scream in frustration at trying to figure this problem out as he threw longing glances at 'The Count of Monte Cristo'.
Meanwhile, whilst the four men brooded and planned, there was something else going on that would throw both Craig and Marton into apoplexy - had they known that Ian McKellen, Gandalf, Lord of the Movie Set, was planning something much more subtle than the pair was. And his plan was not for the pair that was the current topic of bets, one of which included them ending up in the sack and moving on like nothing happened - provided of course, by one Orlando Bloom. No, Ian McKellen had a plan for Celeborn and Haldir - and it did not include Galadriel - well it did, but it would work, because Ian was Gandalf. He could do anything he set his mind to; after all, Ian was practically god in New Zealand at the moment. What couldn't he do?
The pub was crowded and smoke hung in the air like a suffocating mist that nobody seemed to notice. Craig and Marton were sitting conspiratorially together in a corner, both talking and gesturing, making Ian wonder what on earth they were planning. Karl and Dave were sitting at different ends of the bar, busy pretending not to notice each other. Though, the sideways glances thrown at each other randomly shouted more than clearly to anyone watching that this was not the case. Ian's eyes flickered over to where the hobbits were singing drinking songs horribly off-key while they downed their pints, and before he knew it, Ian found himself nearly accosted by the two men he'd been conspiring over only hours before.
Marton sat down on one side of Ian while Craig sat down on the other side, making Ian feel rather trapped as they stared at him intently. Ian merely glanced up at them before turning his attention back to his drink.
"We need your help," Marton stated casually, causing the hair on the back of Ian's neck to stand up in worry.
"Well, you see Dave over there?" Craig said, motioning to Dave. At Ian's nod, he motioned to Karl, causing Ian's head to swivel around as it followed to movement. "And Karl over there?"
"Yes, what of it?"
"We want them to be cuddled up in a corner whispering sweet nothings in each other's ears while the hobbits sing horribly and Viggo and Bean get into an argument over a painting," Marton said bluntly as Craig nodded in agreement.
Ian's eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline. Life was odd. And this opportunity was too perfect to pass up. A chance to make Craig and Marton realize their feelings for each other while they tried to make Dave and Karl realize theirs for each other. Absolutely perfect. Ian felt a smile tug at the corner of his mouth. "Oh? And you need my help how?"
"Well... You're practically God to all of us. You're the almighty Gandalf, you can think of something!" Marton said.
"Direct us oh powerful one," Craig stated, only a slight hint of mockery creeping into his voice.
"All right then, go over there and talk to them. Tell them that the other confided in you that they liked the other, and that you felt it only right to tell them," Ian said. "Then you can come back here and watch the fireworks."
Craig and Marton looked rather amazed. Ian had made it all so easy, and he hadn't even worked to make it that way. They both nodded vigorously and took off for opposite sides of the bar. Ian knew that this wouldn't be that easy - nothing like this was. He knew that when Craig and Marton actually got Karl and Dave to talk, that it would end in a shouting match and they'd run off screaming into the night while cursing the other's name for all eternity before taking it back an hour later and trying to figure out how to make it up to the other.
But it would be rather amusing to watch... Especially since Cate had just walked in the door.
Craig sidled up to Dave and sat next to the other man, ordering a drink before sitting down quietly. Which disconcerted Dave immensely, seeing as Craig was rarely quiet when the occasion called for it, much less when it didn't. Dave found himself eyeing the other man dubiously out of the corner of his eye, waiting for him to say something. But he didn't. The bartender came back with his drink, and Craig drank most of it before Dave cracked.
"Okay, what do you want?"
"Who said I wanted anything?"
"Oh please," Dave said scornfully. "You being quiet is not the normal you. You're a moody little bugger who is rather loud when happy and broody quite often, but you are never just simply quiet."
"Okay, so I'm not. I talked to Karl earlier actually... "
"And I would care why?" Dave questioned.
"Well, we got to talking and you came up in the conversation... "
"So? I don't need anymore passed-on insults thank you," Dave replied acidly. Craig waved his hand in the air, seemingly oblivious to Dave's tone.
"He's in love with you."
It took a moment for that sentence to catch up with Dave's brain. "What?!"
Across the room was a different case. Marton sat next to Karl and plunked his drink down on the counter, eyeing his subject for a moment before speaking, in a conversational tone as if what he said was a remark on the weather.
"He's in love with you, you know."
"I've no idea who you're talking about," Karl replied, eyeing Marton warily.
"Dave's in love with you, but he thinks you hate him, and is all broody and moody, and it's making the rest of us irritable, so, go shag him already."
That was Marton, blunt as ever, staring unblinkingly at Karl, who gaped unabashedly at Marton's open honesty, which was tangible on the air. Marton did not know how to be subtle, almost as if he'd slept in on the day that God handed out caution. And what irked Karl to no end was that he knew that Marton wasn't lying - the man didn't know how. He was blunt, to the point, polite, but he never lied, which meant he'd made up for sleeping in by getting an extra helping of honesty. Which really pissed Karl off.
"Right, and who told you this?"
"It's obvious," Marton replied, "And he told me."
"You're an obtuse little bastard."
"I know that, but I'm a fuckable little bastard. And I happen to be a nosy one too."
"Thank you for that wonderful revelation Captain Obvious, would you like a cookie?" Karl asked, voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Ouch, that hurt," Marton replied cynically. "How long did it take you to come up with that one, Wonder Boy?"
"I didn't have to think it up, Craig did. And if you're calling your little fuck-buddy stupid I guess I'll just have to tell him."
"Craig is not my fuck-buddy, thank you very much," Marton replied darkly.
"But you want him to be," came the immediate reply. "You're a blunt bastard, it's obvious to everyone but Craig himself."
"I don't want a fuck-buddy."
"No, you want a lover, a soul-mate, a whatever-you-want-to-call-it," Karl remarked.
"So do you. And he's sitting over there with mine."
Karl looked, and did a double take at the look on Dave's face. Dave looked rather surprised, and when he looked up, blue eyes clashed with brown as their eyes locked, and Karl knew. He knew that Marton was right, but he'd get his arse kicked before he admitted it. But the damage was done. He indicated the door to the pub with a slight move of his head and watched Dave nod. Karl stood and strode from the room, leaning on the cool brick wall outside as he waited for Dave to follow.
As soon as Dave exited the bar Karl straightened and pinned the shorter man to the wall before moulding his lips over Dave's. Dave responded immediately, his hands coming up to slide under Karl's shirt and run over bare flesh. When Karl pulled away they were both breathless, and Karl leaned his forehead against Dave's.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I thought you hated me," Dave murmured, eyes closed as he let Karl's presence float over him like a warm blanket, and suddenly, everything was right with the world. It was davekarl, and karldave. Everything was perfect in davekarl land, and anyone be damned if they interrupted.
"Love you," Dave murmured against Karl's lips. He felt a smile curve along Karl's lips as the other man replied.
"Love you too."
Marton was rather proud of himself, and by the look on Craig's face, so was he. However, Marton's I'm-the-best-ness would not last as he spotted Cate headed straight for him. He groaned before he finished off his drink and turned to face Cate. She stood there fuming, her hands on her hips.
"Have you been avoiding me Marton?" Cate asked.
"Of course not," Marton replied innocently - too innocently.
"You have!" She looked hurt, and Marton wasn't sorry in the least. "Why won't you give me a chance Marton?"
"I've already told you, I don't swing that way, I play for the other team. I'm Gay." Marton stated, grinning smugly to himself at the look on her face.
"Well... Couldn't you try it out... ?" Cate asked as Craig came up next to Marton.
"No, he can't," Craig stated matter-of-factly.
"Why do you say that?"
"Because our lovely Marton is taken, Cate," Craig said, wrapping an arm securely around Marton's waist. "By me."
Cate looked scandalized as Marton leaned into Craig's embrace. The air between them shivered with tension while in the background another drinking song was sung horribly off-key. Cate's lower lip trembled, and then she did something no one expected. She hauled her fist back and hit Craig squarely on the nose. He let out a yelp, hand flying to his face as a river of red fell down the contours of his face. Marton exclaimed something that no one caught as Cate railed against Craig, calling him a bastard and some other rather mean names that will not be repeated as Marton retrieved a towel from the bartender and gave it to Craig, who took it gratefully and held it to his bleeding nose.
"Are you insane Cate?!" Marton exclaimed as Craig sat down on a barstool, rather happy to have the other man hovering over him like that.
"You're a bastard too, Marton Csokas!" Cate screamed, getting even the attention of the drunken hobbits.
"Thank you for that announcement, Cate," Marton replied acidly, "But Karl already pointed out that fact and I'll tell you exactly what I told him. I know I'm a nosy bastard, but I'm a fuckable bastard thank-you-very-much!"
"Yes you are!" came Craig's voice, muffled slightly by the towel over his nose.
"Thank you Craig, for your support," Marton replied airily, "But I think I got the point across."
Cate's face was red as a beet as she watched Marton lean over Craig to check his nose. Ian came up and led her away, saying soothing things in her ear while throwing proud looks back at the pair at the bar. He was the God of the Movie Set, he could do anything, even do nothing at all, he thought as he watched Marton kiss Craig. Ian grinned to himself - Cate had done it all for him.
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