Karl found himself with an armful of wriggling, filthy puppy before he could work out who'd even spoken to him or why. Bewildered and unsure of what the hell had just happened, he glanced around, squinting behind his glasses at the people around him in the hopes of finding the person who'd saddled him with his current burden. Everyone at the party looked pretty engrossed in their own conversations - no one even looked twice at him. It was like whoever'd talked to him had vanished into thin air or something. This had to be some sort of bizarre prank, right? The puppy – still in his arms, still very much real, prank or no – made a pitiful whine and Karl absently scratched behind its ears. Poor thing couldn't have been more than a few weeks old. Karl thought it might be a lab/retriever mix, but he couldn't be sure through all of the mud caking its fur. Warm brown eyes met his when the puppy lifted its head and let out what sounded suspiciously like a long-suffering sigh that shook its tiny frame. "You're a sorry sight, aren't you?" Karl mused, already completely in love and not bothering to hide it. "Sorry about that, I had to get the mud out of...ah, never mind, I see you and Tristan have bonded." At the sound of the voice in front of him, Karl glanced up and into another pair of equally warm brown eyes, although these were framed by absurdly long eyelashes and a face that might've come straight out of a Malory novel about knights in shining armor. The dude standing before Karl was tall, with a muscled, lean build, a damp, riotous mop of curls atop his head and was sporting the biggest, most genuine smile Karl had ever seen. His t-shirt, a screaming sunshine yellow that read Got me? I'll do your body good, was spattered with droplets of water, and his jeans were spattered with mud. "I'm sorry?" Karl asked, certain he had to sound as stupid as he felt. Had to be the radiance of the smile that was responsible for the sudden IQ drop. Had to be. "Tristan," the stranger repeated, then pointed at the puppy. Who was happily snuggled in the crook of Karl's arm, looking, for all the world, like he'd be content to never move. "I see he's taken to you." "Oh, right. Yeah, um." Karl glanced down with a fond smile, then back up. Seems he'd solved the short-lived mystery as to the puppy's origins. "Is he yours, then?" At least, Karl hoped the puppy was a he with a name like Tristan. "Found him on the side of the road on my way here. Poor little guy was huddled under this clump of bushes, soaking wet and shivering." The other man reached out to pet the puppy's nose, and was gratefully nuzzled in return. "Thanks for looking out for him while I got cleaned up some." "Uh, you're welcome," Karl replied, certain his brain was on automatic pilot. This was the weirdest conversation he could remember in years, which was saying something, considering the company his girlfriend kept. "So, wait. You just found him, and you've named him already?" His question was met with a nonchalant shrug. "Looks like a Tristan. Tough warrior type. I'm Orlando, by the way." Karl took the offered hand out of habit, then almost dropped it as a singe of electricity seemed to zing through him. He barely resisted the urge to rub his hand on his jeans to rid himself of the weird tingling sensation. "Karl Urban," he replied, when he thought he could speak. "Oh, yeah, I know who you are." Orlando rocked back on his heels. "JV quarterback, right?" Karl nodded. It was still so trippy to get recognized for playing sports, even though he supposed he should be used to it by now. He'd been written about in the local papers since before high school. "Uh, yeah." "Cool." There was that smile again, so wide and white that Karl felt momentarily blinded by it. It was sort of like staring into the sun at midday. "I'm trying out for the varsity team in the spring. Running back. Played all fours years in high school, but took a year off to acclimate to college life, y'know?" "Ah, cool." Karl looked over Orlando again, this time athlete to athlete, noted the barely coiled energy, the strong legs and nicely tapered hands. "You look like you've got some speed. We could use it on the team." "Thanks." Orlando stuck his hands in his back pockets and started bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet. "Hey, you wouldn't happen to know the host, would you? I'd like to get the little guy cleaned up some before I take him to my sister's." Karl blinked at the abrupt shift in conversation. "Your sister?" "Yeah, she's got a house she's renting with some friends just off-campus. I normally take the strays I rescue to her and she puts out notices, y'know, in case they're lost pets or runaways." "Is she, like, a vet or something?" Orlando chuckled, and leaned in. He smelled faintly of soap and sweat. Not an unpleasant combination. "Nah, we're just big on rescuing strays in my family. Animals, people, you know how it goes. How I found my best friend, as a matter of fact." "Uh huh." Karl was tight with his folks, sure, but their family activities tended to be going to Braves games and arguing with his dad over the merits of the pitching staff and whether the Dawgs would ever win one against the Tide, or accompanying his mother to her various charitable events. He couldn't remember ever rescuing a person. "We were eight when we met." A stray curl fell across Orlando's forehead. Karl had an absurd urge to push it back off his face. "Chad, that's my best friend, was new to the school and had been about to make the monumental mistake of going to sit next to Colby Ryan at lunch on his first day." "And Colby Ryan was...?" Karl asked, intrigued in spite of himself. He thought Orlando might be slightly unhinged. But in a really sort of cute way. If one could call a guy cute. Certainly, this was the most entertained he'd been in a long time. "The biggest douchebag at Duke Springs Elementary," Orlando finished, flashing those white teeth again. "Of course," Karl nodded, deciding he may as well take the conversation seriously. This was sort of like talking to some of Drew's friends, only without all the theatrics and pretentiousness. "And no one told Chad this, I take it? I mean, about Colby's douchebaggery." "Nope." Orlando shook his head sadly, as if he still couldn't believe it, either. "So, once I saw where he was headed, I took it upon myself to swoop in and steer Chad to my table and away from a life of crime and delinquency. He's been thankful ever since." "Of course." Karl had heard weirder stories of how people had met. But none had been delivered with the same sort of matter-of-factness, like this was something Orlando did all the time. And maybe it was, who knew. "I'm sure Chad is properly grateful." "I remind him daily." Once again, Orlando rocked back on his heels. Karl wondered if he was capable of standing still, and then wondered where the hell he got all of that energy. "And, uh, I do. I mean, know the host," Karl added, belatedly remembering Orlando's earlier question. "It's my girlfriend, Drew's, place. Her parents weren't too keen on her in a dorm, so they're springing for an apartment. Sweet, huh." Karl'd gotten a full ride to UGA, but campus housing had been part of the deal. Not that he minded. He had his own room – and, more importantly, his own bathroom – and the commons room had a sick entertainment system set up, including a PSP, an Xbox and a Wii. "Oh, cool. You think she'd mind if we...y'know, got Tristan cleaned up, got some of that mud out of his fur?" Karl thought about Drew's pristine, feminine bathroom, and quickly shook his head. He was all for being a good Samaritan, but he wasn't an idiot. "Probably a bad idea. Why don't we go back to my room at the dorm?" "You're not worried about breaking regs with a pet?" Karl shrugged. He wasn't that much of a stickler for the rules, no matter how much he got teased for his anal behavior. "No one'll be around. Saturday night, y'know? I think we'll be okay." "Good point." Orlando clapped him on the arm, but Karl noted he did it gently enough so as to not wake the still snoring puppy. "I like you, man. I have a feeling you and I are going to totally be great friends." "At least we'll have a cool origin story to tell the grandkids," Karl joked, and felt pretty clever when Orlando just threw his head back and laughed, the sound full-throated and unadulterated. "Good one, man," Orlando answered, still chuckling. His eyes crinkled with good-natured amusement. "Good one. Definitely like you. Hey, you wanna come with to drop him off at my sister's when we're done? She always keeps the fridge stocked with beer." Karl thought about Drew, who'd disappeared an hour ago, and the party around him, mostly theatre types that he didn't know or really care about. About how he hadn't wanted to be here anyway, but also hadn't wanted to spend the evening alone. He also had the distinct gut feeling that if he didn't go with Orlando, he'd spend the entire night regretting it. "Sure." "Sweet." Orlando threw a friendly arm across Karl's shoulders. "I should warn you about the monkey, though." "Monkey?" Karl blinked, even as he allowed Orlando to steer him outside the door. "Wait, monkey...?" Onto Music Theory
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