Slashababy 2004 Stories

  FANFICTION: This story depicts real-life public figures engaged in completely fictional, false and untrue activities. It never happened, it never will happen. This story is a work of fantasy and satire which in no way professes to express the truth about the life, thoughts, feelings, desires, opinions, beliefs, activities or sexual orientation of any person mentioned herein.

It Must Be Love

for sparkleblsm
by lunasv

Pairing: Karl Urban/Craig Parker
It's fiction. Make-believe. If you believe it, then by all means share what you're smoking with us.
This is a bit experimental, written for , who wanted Karl and Craig and smutty fluff. Anyone who knows me understands that Karl and Craig don't mesh well in my brain, not to mention fluff. This is the result.


Craig Parker hates Karl Urban.

Karl Urban despises Craig Parker.

Loathe. Abhor.

Google "mortal enemies" and you more than likely to pull up their images.

And the blame belongs to Harry Sinclair.

Harry, sweetheart of a man, thought they were cute together. It'd been on the Xena set. Episode 16 of the second season. And he'd known Craig and Karl had been friends on Shortland Street a few years earlier.

So he'd set them up on a date.

Simple. Innocuous. Could only be a good thing.

Well, it would've been, except Craig and Karl hit it off. Fell head over proverbial heel. They even talked about moving in together, but they couldn't decide whose place to live at.

Everything was perfect.

Until Harry suggested Karl for Peter Jackson's Lord of the Rings project.


"It's your fault, Sin."

"Why? What'd I do?"

"You put us together. I'd be damned happy ..."

"And alone."

"Not necessarily."

"C'mon, Karl, you were pushing every one of us away. Me, Michael, Kevin."

"You and me tried it, Harry. Didn't work. Michael and Kevin are married, if you hadn't noticed."

"Yeah, I know. They play both sides of the pitch, mate."

"Still, you put me together with Parker."

"And it was working. You seemed happy."

"Seemed. Right. Man's a terminal fruit."

"A what?"

"Flaming, Sin. Definitely knocking Priscilla off her queen's pillows."

"Uh. Karl. You're gay."


"You're losing me, Karl."

"Just, he's so campy. Flirting with Orli all day. Like they're gonna take over the world together and dress it in ruffles."

"Ah. Gotcha."


"I'm blaming you, Harry."


"Wouldn't've given Urban a second thought if you hadn't thrown him at me."

"Wait a minute. You were the one leering on set."

"Admiring the view."

"The one who begged me and Kevin to reacquaint you with your Shortland colleague."

"Wanted to talk old times."

"Fuck it, Parker. You wanted a piece of his arse."

"No, actually, I wanted his cock. In my arse."

"And you got it."

"Yeah. It's bend over this, up against that. Damned, but he's a torture queen."

"You like pain, I thought."

"I do, but every friggin' night? Christ, Harry, a guy wants a little romance now and then."

"Ah. Right."


"Sean, you gotta help."

"No, I don't. Your bed, Har."

"I didn't think ..."

"No, you didn't. You were too busy making matches to think."

"But they love each other."

"They do? They're snipping and snarking every chance they get."

"See. True love."

"Har, you're a daft bugger."

"Yeah. I've got steel cuffs."

"Don't tempt me."

"Gates of Hell that's never been worn."

"Har, you're not playing fair."


"What do we do?"


Karl and Craig do nothing but fight now.

"Go fuck yourself, Urban."

It's become a daily ritual on set.

"You first, Parker."

Bets are laid each morning in the mess tent as to who'll throw out the first verbal blow.

"At least I could do it."

Karl's vicious.

"Like hell. You and maybe the Orc army."

Craig's catty.

"Like you're any better."

And it's obvious to everyone they're head over heels in love.

"Like you care."


"You think love poetry would help?"

"Only if you let someone else write it, Vig."

"Oh, thanks, Sean. Are you published?"

"No, but what I write on the back on napkins is more likely to make Karl want Craig than the esoteric drabble you put out."

"I like his poetry."

"No one asked you, Bloom."

"Stop it. All of you. You're giving me a migraine."

"Sorry, Har."

"S'okay, Sean. I'm just at the end of my rope."

"Maybe they shouldn't be together."

"But they're perfect, Orli."

"Oh, right. They're so friggin' perfect Karl thinks Craig's shagging me."

"He's not."

"We know, Vig."

"I'm fuckin' Orli."

"We know, Vig."

"Just setting the record straight."

"Got it. You're shagging Orli, I'm shagging Sean and we're trying to get Karl back to shagging Craig. Any thoughts on that one?"

"Toss 'em in a room, lock 'em up and leave 'em there."

"Nice, Sean. Jacko'll have to replace his Haldir and his Eomer."

"Make 'em jealous."

"Orli, they're pretty damned jealous as it is."

"I know, Vig, but if Karl sees Craig with someone else and it looks really serious, then he might realize he really wants him. Or vice versa?"

"MTV generation thinking at its best."

"Might work. God knows I've tried reasoning with 'em. Talking's getting nowhere."

"So, who's the bait? Orli? You, Harry?"


"You got a thing with Karl."

"Had. Had a thing. For about two weeks, Sean. Long, long ago."

"You're our last, best hope."

"Orli has to help."

"Only if it's okay with Vig."

"Guess I can pretend not to notice you flirting."


So with a snog and a promise, Harry's pressed into service.

"Karl, if you're not gonna get with back with Craig, maybe we could ..."

"You're daft, mate. Didn't work."

But they're seen talking.

"Worked better than you two."

"No, it didn't. I happen to l- ..."

By Craig, who's getting coffee with the other elves.

"So, Craig, you want to go out?"

"What? Orli, are you? You're not."

And being hit on by Orli in plain sight of all.

"Not unless you want."

"I'm sort of involved."

Who says the best-laid plans always go awry?


"C'mon, clothes off."

Karl pushes Craig back against the trailer wall.

"You, too."

Craig's fingers slide under Karl's t-shirt, roll up the hem.

"Okay, okay. Give me a sec."

One lover steps back and skims off his tee while the other hastily unbuttons his shirt and shrugs it off his shoulders.

"Fuck, you're gorgeous."

Karl dips his head, sticks out his tongue and licks over the silver ring in Craig's nipple.

"Oh, hell, do that again."

Craig shivers, slams his hands against the wall.

"What? This?"

Karl sucks, first on the ring and then on the flesh, biting gently.

"Karl, c'mon, want you."

The first lover obliges the second, fingers working at the waistband of Craig's jeans, unbuttoning and shoving them down over slender hips.

"Want you, too, mate. Now. Later. Forever."

Craig reciprocates, hands hurriedly unzipping denim and freeing cock.


"Pocket. Back."

Foil found, packet ripped open and latex unrolled.

"Now. Please."


"Yes. Waited too long."

Karl spins Craig around and pins him against the wall.

"Too butch?"

"Fuck. Me. Karl."

He scrounges in his own pocket, finds the lube tube and squirts it out. Slick fingers slide into Craig's arse, pull back and repeat.

"That working?"

"Christ, yes, it's fine."

Craig pushes back, hands braced on the wall.

Karl curls his fingers, seeking out the sweet spot, touching and igniting the ripple effect, smiling as Craig's body shudders.

"Enough of this. Want inside you."

"Who's impatient now, Karl?"

Fingers are pulled out, replaced by the head of Karl's cock.


Karl shoves forward, brutal thrust until he's fully in.


"You love it."


The rhythm's rough and random, counterpoint to the kisses Karl's dropping on Craig's shoulder. His lover's not objecting.


Craig Parker loves Karl Urban.

Karl Urban adores Craig Parker.

Worship. Fawn.

Everything's perfect.

Except now they want to try kink.


Slashababy 2004 Stories