The Right Woman

The Right Woman

Posted: May 4, 2007
Title: The Right Woman
Author: Decadence and Sileya
Type: RPS
Characters: Craig/Karl
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: We don’t know them, and we don’t claim to. We just like their faces and names.
Beta: Sileya

Summary: Karl gets dumped and Craig tries to get him to see the bright side.

*****

Craig walked into the food pavilion, making a beeline for the chilled bottles of juice at the far end. Ignoring everything except the bottle of orange-mango juice that called his name, he nearly tripped over Karl’s extended feet. Forward momentum stalled, he turned to face Karl, a scowl marring his fine Elven-made features nearly deep enough to cause a crack in the putty they spackled on his face each morning.

“Wha -”

Craig’s voice trailed off as the look on Karl’s face completely deflated any ire he felt at nearly falling. In fact, Karl’s face held no expression whatsoever. It was blank. Almost as if he had a neon sign over his head flashing ‘I have no idea at all.’

When his looming presence made no impression on the other man, Craig snapped his fingers in front of Karl’s face. “Karl? Everything okay?”

Lost in utter shock, Karl finally blinked when someone waved a hand in front of his face. He looked up slightly to see Craig come into focus, and then he looked around. Somehow he’d gotten to a chair in the catering tent. He had no idea how. That phone call...he shook his head, trying to clear it.

A small smile of relief filtered across Craig’s face as Karl began to show some life again. “You okay? I thought for a minute you were auditioning for a new zombie flick or something of that nature.”

Karl latched onto Craig’s voice and face like an anchor. “Craig?” he asked weakly, although he had no idea what to say.

Forgetting the juice for a moment, Craig settled on the small bench beside Karl. “Okay - you’ve been holding out on me. What kind of drugs are you on and do you have enough for me?”

Confused by Craig’s response, Karl frowned, his brows drawing together. “Huh?” he answered intelligently.

Smiling again so that Karl will realize he was joking, Craig laid a hand on the other man’s, squeezing his fingers gently. “What’s up?” He asked in a serious tone, hoping that Karl would confide in him.

Karl swallowed and looked down at the mobile he clutched in his right hand. “I, uh, got a phone call. From Pamela,” he said.

Craig rolled his eyes at the mention of Karl’s so-called ‘girlfriend’. “Let me guess...she can’t decide whether to wear the red or green sweater with her new dress this Saturday night.”

Karl’s face grew still. “She’s not coming.”

A flicker of surprise made its way across Craig’s face before he could stop it. “She’s not coming to the Christmas party? Why in fuck not? Everyone will be there. It’s the ‘event of the season’ to hear the Hobbits tell it.”

If possible, Karl’s face grew more still. “She’s getting married,” he said in a totally dead tone.

“She’s getting married,” Craig repeated flatly. “I’m assuming you’re not the lucky guy.” His sarcastic tone accented the word ‘lucky’.

Karl blinked again and frowned. “No, I’m not the guy,” he said just as sarcastically, avoiding the whole “lucky” issue. He knew Craig’s opinion of Pamela. It hadn’t changed in four years. It annoyed him just as much that Craig was right as it did that Pamela finally did as Craig predicted.

Craig faced forward, forcing the hint of joy to leave his features. “I won’t say I told you so.”

Karl finally pushed away the fog and sighed, looking up at Craig wryly. “But I know you SO want to...”

Shrugging, Craig hid his grin. “She’s too...feminine. Always worried about her hair and you’re - well - you’re into horses. That does not a good match make.” Logic sounding fuzzy to his own ears, Craig found himself shrugging again.

A look of incredulity crossed Karl’s face as he stared at Craig.

“Doesn’t she fuss too much about how...riding...messes her hair up?”

Sighing again, Karl had to just shrug and lean back. “I thought we were good together. That I’d make another step up with ‘Rings,’ that maybe we’d look at getting married after, maybe having a kid,” he murmured, voice and gaze sort of faraway.

For the first time since Karl and Pamela had started dating, Craig actually took into account how Karl felt about the ... well - he’d reserve that language for later, when Karl’s still tender ears couldn’t be offended by it. “Maybe you still will.”

Karl stared into nothing for a long moment - and then shook his head. “No, I need to get real,” he said regretfully. “I held onto her, because it was kind of the dream I’ve had for a long time. But I don’t even know if it’s really what I want anymore.”

“You’re still young. You’ve got plenty of time to figure out what it is that you want,” Craig observed.

Karl looked up and gazed at Craig. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “I’ve got time.”

Craig glanced at the watch he kept pinned beneath his robes. “Speaking of time, when are you done today? Wanna go out for a drink or two? Drown your sorrows?”

“I’m done,” Karl said, pulling himself together, still shaking his head. The news was just so...sudden. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized Pamela had moved on long ago. Like he should have. He glanced to Craig. “How long have you known?” he asked. “About Pamela.”

“What about her?” Craig asked, biting his tongue on the ‘that she’s a right bitch’ or ‘that she’s not worthy of you’ that threatens to follow the question.

Karl narrowed his eyes. “It’s not like you to be so...nice, Craig. Not when you truly think differently,” he pointed out. “She’s gone now. So tell me. Really. I think I need to hear it.”

“To be painfully truthful,” Craig started, worrying his lip as he wondered if he’d hurt Karl’s feelings or not, “I think she was looking for a fast-rising ticket to stardom and fame and riches. A sellout who’d do anyone or anything to get what she wanted for her. You’re not like that.” He lowered his gaze, smoothing the hem of his gray robes across his thigh. “You’re better than that.”

The taller man’s eyes softened as he looked at his longtime friend. Karl couldn’t help but smile a bit lopsidedly. “Well, in some ways I wish you’d said that some time ago - but who knows if I would have listened?” he said fairly. “So how about I buy you a beer? We can talk about my prospects for a date for Saturday night.”

Rising from his place on the bench, Craig shook out the wrinkles in his costume. “I could do with a beer. Especially if you’re buying. If you’re looking for me to find you a date though, you’ll be looking long and hard. I don’t mix with that scene.” He pretended to shudder in disgust at the thought of dating a FEMALE.

Karl snorted. “Yeah, but you’ve still got a hell of a better nose for picking good ones than I seem to have. C’mon,” he said, slinging his arm about Craig’s neck.

Craig followed along, allowing himself to be tucked tight beneath Karl’s arms, against his warm side. “I need to stop and change,” he murmured regretfully, realizing it meant that he’d have to move from Karl’s embrace.

“Okay,” Karl said, steering them toward Craig’s trailer, not letting go as he mused over his good fortune in picking Craig as a friend, at least.

Leading the both of them into his rather tight quarters, Craig pushed Karl down onto a chair before slipping behind a screen to remove his costume. “So - tell me what your type is. Just so I’ll know what to look out for tonight.”

“Christ.” Karl said mournfully. “I don’t know. Someone with a working body that doesn’t look too bad that I can actually talk to?” he said as he leaned back to look at the ceiling. “Don’t know if I can be that picky. I’m not much of a catch these days.”

Emerging from behind the screen, Craig buttoned his jeans as he spoke thoughtfully. “But what about the looks department? You prefer blondes? Brunettes? Redheads?” Moving over to the mirror, he swiped at the last of the makeup on his face, not stopping until his own dark hair and tanned skin was reflected back at him.

“I’ve never cared much for blondes,” Karl admitted. “Dark hair strikes me as more sexy,” he added, twiddling his thumbs, staring up at the joists. “And a tan, of course. Can’t live in Zid or Australia and not be an outside person, in my opinion.”

Craig considered the words as he turned, buttoning his open shirt. “How about body-wise? Stacked or small? Curvy or more streamlined?”

Chewing idly on his bottom lip, Karl considered. “One thing about Pam, I was always afraid I’d break her, you know? I’d be more comfortable with someone solid, somewhat shorter than me, maybe. The figure doesn’t matter too much, not really. Curvy, streamlined - I’d prefer to see a little muscle. Now THAT turns me on,” he admitted.

Craig rolled his eyes as he left the bottom button on his shirt undone and pushed his feet into a pair of loafers. “You do realize that you’re describing a woman who doesn’t exist?”

Karl frowned. “Well, why the hell not?” he whined.

“You’re describing a hobbit. That’s why. Maybe I can hook you up with Frodo, if you’re interested.” Craig offered.

Frowning harder, Karl’s face was all screwed up. “A hobbit? No, actually, I was thinking more of...” his voice trailed off and his cheeks pinkened as he blinked in surprise.

“A dwarf?” Craig’s face screwed into an expression of disgust as he pocketed his wallet and keys. “Please tell me you’re not hot on John. Although he is rather taller than you. Hmm... Bret?”

“You’re getting warmer,” Karl said faintly, that dazed look of shock back on his face. He could hardly believe his own thoughts...but he could feel his body’s response to the vision he had in mind.

“Dwarf women?” Craig asked in an incredulous tone. “They have beards, ya know,” he whispered playfully, coming to stand near the chair Karl lounged in.

Karl turned his chin up to look at Craig - really look at him. “No,” he said, voice still weak. “You were closer with...Bret. Sort of.” He swallowed hard. He’d never been attracted to a man before. Could it be he just wanted a woman who looked a lot like Craig happened to look like?

“Are you having an epiphany?” Craig asked in a suspicious voice.

Karl got that deer-in-the-headlights look.

“I have Bret’s number in my mobile. I can call him to join us if you want.”

Shaking his head emphatically, Karl couldn’t stop the blush from deepening. “No, no. No, that’s OK - it’s not Bret. Why would you think that?” he asked, desperate to change the subject so he could think through his...epiphany...on his own time.

Craig shrugged as he grabbed a jumper. “You said I was closer with Bret. Just wondered and all.” He opened the door, stepping back down onto the ground as he looked up at Karl who still stood framed in the door. “But at this angle, I might be short enough for you,” he teased unmercifully.

Karl couldn’t help but freeze and stare as his longtime friend, dazed again, distantly glad he was wearing a flannel over his jeans that safely covered the quite distressing erection he was sporting. Christ. He was a head case.

Reaching out, Craig tugged at the hem of Karl’s shirt. “C’mon,” he whined, “if we don’t get to the bar you won’t get to get me drunk before curfew.”

Jerking in response to catch Craig’s hand, Karl flushed deeper as he practically fell out of the trailer, stumbling a bit.

Craig watched Karl out of the corner of his eye as they walked toward a nearby pub. He’d never seen Karl so seemingly out of it before, and he inwardly cursed Pamela for doing this to him.

Karl followed along, musing over his sudden and unexpected reaction to Craig. Was he just hard up? He glanced at Craig, as if afraid the other man would read his mind and take offense. Why would Karl’s current ‘ideal woman’ be based so much on Craig’s likeness? But just as soon as he asked the question, he knew the answer...Craig had always been there for him. He was a gorgeous man, inside and out. Karl could admit that, and freely. But this physical attraction was new.

Craig let Karl stew in his juices as they walked the short distance to the pub. Waiting until they’d procured a booth and a drink each, he asked, “How about Liv? She’s dark-haired...and slightly shorter than you. Not to mention those gorgeous blue eyes that flash fire when she’s mad.”

Karl looked over at Craig, having calmed down a bit, and he tilted his head in consideration. “Yeah, she’s great. Maybe a wee bit slight - needs some more meat on her, for my taste. Not to mention she’s already married.”

“Damn scruples,” Craig laughed as he considered the rest of the cast members. “Marton?”

“Too...” Karl shrugged helplessly. “manly?” He looked nonplussed.

Craig frowned. “I’m confused. Is there anyone here at all that fits your idea of what a mate should be, or am I thinking along the wrong lines?”

Closing his eyes for a long moment, Karl sighed, then opened them again to look at Craig, raising an eyebrow significantly. Waiting. He figured his friend would laugh at him. After all, Craig had been gay as long as Karl had known him. Just as Karl had been straight. Wouldn’t the other man be amused to see Karl’s sudden confusion, he wondered, a little desperately. He didn’t want to be bitter toward his friend, Karl knew, but he really hoped Craig didn’t laugh in his face. A small titter would suffice. Really.

Eyes narrowing at the implied meaning behind Karl’s actions, he sat back in the seat. “We are talking about a mate for YOU, aren’t we?”

Karl nodded slowly, silently.

Straightening up once more, Craig blushed a bit under Karl’s regard. “You’d better not be taking the piss.”

Heart pounding loudly as Craig didn’t laugh, Karl shook his head, his eyes not leaving the handsome face before him.

Testing the waters, Craig ventured a hand across the width of the table, letting his fingertips brush Karl’s wrist.

Karl visibly shivered. “Please don’t make fun of me,” he whispered, eyes locked onto Craig.

Fingers spreading to loosely grip the soft skin of Karl’s forearm, Craig could feel the racing pulse beneath his touch. “I’m not laughing, am I?”

Face still and serious, Karl shook his head slowly again, slightly turning his arm so that his palm faced up.

Craig slid his palm ever so slowly downward, letting Karl become accustomed to his touch as he brought their palms together.

Sliding their fingers together, Karl relaxed slowly, his pulse slowly calming to just a steady race rather than a heated pounding. He let himself look over Craig like he’d never done before.

Feeling the weight of Karl’s regard, Craig lowered his gaze and raised his bottle, swallowing a mouthful of beer. His hand felt oddly comfortable in Karl’s, and he wondered idly what had made Karl make the decision he had apparently made tonight. Whatever the reason, it was Craig’s responsibility as Karl’s longtime friend to make sure the other man didn’t get hurt. Glancing up at Karl, he could see the confusion in the other man’s eyes, and he promised himself that he would never push Karl in any way.

Karl looked at their hands and slowly, he moved his fingers to twine them together. “Will you go with me to the party Saturday night?” he asked quietly, figuring it was as good a place to start as any.

“For you,” Craig promised. “I can wear blue.”

*****

THE END

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