Sam Worthington and Ryan Kwanten (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ryan_kwanten) get some game-changing news
Apr. 16th, 2014 11:37 amsam_worthingtonplayers only. backdated to January 2014. takes place a few weeks after Sam and Ryan celebrate their first wedding anniversary.
Christmas over with and back in Los Angeles, Sam's reading and listening to music on the couch in the back room when the call comes in. It's Jim and it's good news, mostly, but fuck. When he hangs up, he shifts up onto his knees, peering out the window, down the beach, trying to see Ryan from here. His boy's gone for his usual morning run but he should be back soon. Sam glances at his watch then tosses the magazine he was reading on the coffee table and goes in search of a beer. Maybe two.
Ryan has a firm policy of eating whatever the fuck he wants, even when he's training hard. The thing is, the category of 'whatever the fuck he wants' just seems to expand so damn much on holidays. So he goes through 3 kilometers of sand running, then forces himself through extra sets of crunches and pull-ups. After all, he's planning to make that amazing cream sauce for tonight...
He's still dripping sweat when he finally climbs the stairs up to the back deck. Stepping through the French doors into the living room, he throws Sam a grin on his way past. "Hey, you're up. Good morning. I gotta grab a shower." But abruptly he halts, catching sight of the beer bottle in Sam's hand, as well as the empty one at his elbow. This early in the day? "Hey," he says again, moving closer and studying his lover's face. "You all right?"
Sam nods, leaning heavily on the island. "Yeah." He blows out a breath. "It's good news, just-- why don't you go shower and then we'll talk."
About to argue, Ryan stops himself at the look on his lover's face. "Um. ...Okay," he agrees, although he still feels doubtful when he turns away. "Ten minutes, tops," he promises, his feet pounding on the stairs. He's true to his word, and arrives back in the kitchen clad only in a pair of boxers, still rubbing a towel over his wet hair. "Sam. What...?"
Sam shifts on the stool, turning and motioning Ryan between his legs. "How was your run?"
"My run?" The question seems so out of left field that it catches Ryan off guard. "Uh. Yeah. I mean, yeah, my run was good." No fucking way is this what Sam actually wants to talk about. "How's your morning been so far?"
"Good. Jim called," he says, picking at the label on the beer bottle. "He wants me to go see the sets in New Zealand."
"Jim-- oh, Jim Cameron? That's awesome!" Ryan's eyes light up and he lays his hands on Sam's thighs, already excited. "Is that where they'll be shooting the bulk of the underwater stuff for Avatar? Oh my god, Sam, it's going to be completely beautiful!"
"Yeah. They're actually going to be shooting the whole thing down there, all three sequels," Sam says, blowing out a breath before dropping the real bomb. "Back to back."
Ryan blinks. "Back to back?" he echoes in question, as if he didn't hear right in the first place. "Three movies, back-to-back, in New Zealand? Are you remaking Lord of the Rings or something?"
"It might feel like that," Sam murmurs. "We're going to be down there for roughly nine months, right after we finish Gallipoli." And before that he's got Paper Planes.
"...Wow," Ryan breathes, after taking a moment to process. It felt like his heart stopped for a moment there. Shocked. "So. When do we leave?"
"For Australia? Two weeks. I'll pop over from there. After that I don't think we'll be back until..." Sam shrugs. Fuck if he knows. "Whenever we finish up."
Ryan rubs his hands restlessly over Sam's thighs. "Okay," he says finally, trying to shove aside his surprise and instead order things in his mind. "I'll get in touch with Rafe, and tell him to keep things running smoothly while we're gone. And I'll find some kind of manager for here, too," he says, looking up at the wide exposed ceiling beams of their cherished beach house.
"We just need someone to pop in regularly, make sure everything's okay," Sam says, taking another swig of his beer. "Maybe we'll have a break at some point," he suggests hopefully, but it's unlikely.
"Yeah, that won't be a problem." Hooking the bottle out of Sam's hand, Ryan takes a swig of beer before handing it back. "And New Zealand, hey." He grins up at his husband. "That's a pretty awesome country to get paid for living in." A thought occurs to him. "I can get started on finding us the perfect house there."
Sam nods. "That'd be great," he says, and maybe it really will. Certainly the way Ryan's taking everything in stride is making him feel a whole lot better. "And on the plus side we'll be able to see lots of our families."
"Definitely. While I'm doing my real estate inspections, I'll make sure to find them a lovely luxury hotel. Well out of hearing distance." Huh. Their families? ...Lots?
"No t-shirts as gags?" Sam says with his first smile all morning.
Ryan's brow furrows in thought, and he gives his husband an earnest nod. "You're right. I should also take the time to invest in extra ones, just in case. I can make time in my schedule to attend any of those new store openings which advertise free t-shirt give-aways. You know, for promotions." He keeps his expression carefully sober, hoping he can elicit another one of those smiles which make his heart leap in his chest.
Sam laughs and reels Ryan in, kissing him softly on the mouth. "I love you, you know that?"
Grinning back, Ryan kisses his lover again. "Yep. It's the best part of my whole world, you loving me."
"And you don't ever wish you weren't stuck traipsing all over the place with me?" Sam asks, turning a little more serious again although he's still smiling, trying to keep the question, the concern behind it, light.
"Fuck, no." Ryan eyes Sam curiously, trying to determine whether his husband is actually being serious. "And if you ever stop traipsing and settle down in one spot, I'll be happy to be 'stuck' with you then, too." Shifting closer between Sam's thighs, Ryan slips his arms around his lover so he can hug him. And his smile fades. "Sam. You do know that, right? That I don't really give a shit where we go or what we do there? Just so long as I'm at your side."
"I do," Sam says quietly. "At least I think I do, but sometimes. I don't know. I just-- sometimes I don't want to go traipsing all over the place. I feel like it's a whole fucking year of our lives already gone, planned out, taken over."
Ryan shrugs. "That's you. That's your decision. Although I don't need you to tell me how one little 'yes' from you just gets them trying to totally control everything, I get that. But maybe..." He licks his lips, thinking. "Maybe... I can be that constant, for you? You know. You can't be here all year, right. But I'm your home. And I'll come with you."
Sam's chest tightens so hard, so abruptly, it steals his breath away and he nods, tears stinging his eyes. Ryan's right. His boy, his lover, his husband. Home's always with him. And that's something he didn't have the last time he did this many projects back to back.
Nodding too, Ryan then rests his head against Sam's chest and hugs him hard.
[feedback welcome. comments screened.]
Christmas over with and back in Los Angeles, Sam's reading and listening to music on the couch in the back room when the call comes in. It's Jim and it's good news, mostly, but fuck. When he hangs up, he shifts up onto his knees, peering out the window, down the beach, trying to see Ryan from here. His boy's gone for his usual morning run but he should be back soon. Sam glances at his watch then tosses the magazine he was reading on the coffee table and goes in search of a beer. Maybe two.
Ryan has a firm policy of eating whatever the fuck he wants, even when he's training hard. The thing is, the category of 'whatever the fuck he wants' just seems to expand so damn much on holidays. So he goes through 3 kilometers of sand running, then forces himself through extra sets of crunches and pull-ups. After all, he's planning to make that amazing cream sauce for tonight...
He's still dripping sweat when he finally climbs the stairs up to the back deck. Stepping through the French doors into the living room, he throws Sam a grin on his way past. "Hey, you're up. Good morning. I gotta grab a shower." But abruptly he halts, catching sight of the beer bottle in Sam's hand, as well as the empty one at his elbow. This early in the day? "Hey," he says again, moving closer and studying his lover's face. "You all right?"
Sam nods, leaning heavily on the island. "Yeah." He blows out a breath. "It's good news, just-- why don't you go shower and then we'll talk."
About to argue, Ryan stops himself at the look on his lover's face. "Um. ...Okay," he agrees, although he still feels doubtful when he turns away. "Ten minutes, tops," he promises, his feet pounding on the stairs. He's true to his word, and arrives back in the kitchen clad only in a pair of boxers, still rubbing a towel over his wet hair. "Sam. What...?"
Sam shifts on the stool, turning and motioning Ryan between his legs. "How was your run?"
"My run?" The question seems so out of left field that it catches Ryan off guard. "Uh. Yeah. I mean, yeah, my run was good." No fucking way is this what Sam actually wants to talk about. "How's your morning been so far?"
"Good. Jim called," he says, picking at the label on the beer bottle. "He wants me to go see the sets in New Zealand."
"Jim-- oh, Jim Cameron? That's awesome!" Ryan's eyes light up and he lays his hands on Sam's thighs, already excited. "Is that where they'll be shooting the bulk of the underwater stuff for Avatar? Oh my god, Sam, it's going to be completely beautiful!"
"Yeah. They're actually going to be shooting the whole thing down there, all three sequels," Sam says, blowing out a breath before dropping the real bomb. "Back to back."
Ryan blinks. "Back to back?" he echoes in question, as if he didn't hear right in the first place. "Three movies, back-to-back, in New Zealand? Are you remaking Lord of the Rings or something?"
"It might feel like that," Sam murmurs. "We're going to be down there for roughly nine months, right after we finish Gallipoli." And before that he's got Paper Planes.
"...Wow," Ryan breathes, after taking a moment to process. It felt like his heart stopped for a moment there. Shocked. "So. When do we leave?"
"For Australia? Two weeks. I'll pop over from there. After that I don't think we'll be back until..." Sam shrugs. Fuck if he knows. "Whenever we finish up."
Ryan rubs his hands restlessly over Sam's thighs. "Okay," he says finally, trying to shove aside his surprise and instead order things in his mind. "I'll get in touch with Rafe, and tell him to keep things running smoothly while we're gone. And I'll find some kind of manager for here, too," he says, looking up at the wide exposed ceiling beams of their cherished beach house.
"We just need someone to pop in regularly, make sure everything's okay," Sam says, taking another swig of his beer. "Maybe we'll have a break at some point," he suggests hopefully, but it's unlikely.
"Yeah, that won't be a problem." Hooking the bottle out of Sam's hand, Ryan takes a swig of beer before handing it back. "And New Zealand, hey." He grins up at his husband. "That's a pretty awesome country to get paid for living in." A thought occurs to him. "I can get started on finding us the perfect house there."
Sam nods. "That'd be great," he says, and maybe it really will. Certainly the way Ryan's taking everything in stride is making him feel a whole lot better. "And on the plus side we'll be able to see lots of our families."
"Definitely. While I'm doing my real estate inspections, I'll make sure to find them a lovely luxury hotel. Well out of hearing distance." Huh. Their families? ...Lots?
"No t-shirts as gags?" Sam says with his first smile all morning.
Ryan's brow furrows in thought, and he gives his husband an earnest nod. "You're right. I should also take the time to invest in extra ones, just in case. I can make time in my schedule to attend any of those new store openings which advertise free t-shirt give-aways. You know, for promotions." He keeps his expression carefully sober, hoping he can elicit another one of those smiles which make his heart leap in his chest.
Sam laughs and reels Ryan in, kissing him softly on the mouth. "I love you, you know that?"
Grinning back, Ryan kisses his lover again. "Yep. It's the best part of my whole world, you loving me."
"And you don't ever wish you weren't stuck traipsing all over the place with me?" Sam asks, turning a little more serious again although he's still smiling, trying to keep the question, the concern behind it, light.
"Fuck, no." Ryan eyes Sam curiously, trying to determine whether his husband is actually being serious. "And if you ever stop traipsing and settle down in one spot, I'll be happy to be 'stuck' with you then, too." Shifting closer between Sam's thighs, Ryan slips his arms around his lover so he can hug him. And his smile fades. "Sam. You do know that, right? That I don't really give a shit where we go or what we do there? Just so long as I'm at your side."
"I do," Sam says quietly. "At least I think I do, but sometimes. I don't know. I just-- sometimes I don't want to go traipsing all over the place. I feel like it's a whole fucking year of our lives already gone, planned out, taken over."
Ryan shrugs. "That's you. That's your decision. Although I don't need you to tell me how one little 'yes' from you just gets them trying to totally control everything, I get that. But maybe..." He licks his lips, thinking. "Maybe... I can be that constant, for you? You know. You can't be here all year, right. But I'm your home. And I'll come with you."
Sam's chest tightens so hard, so abruptly, it steals his breath away and he nods, tears stinging his eyes. Ryan's right. His boy, his lover, his husband. Home's always with him. And that's something he didn't have the last time he did this many projects back to back.
Nodding too, Ryan then rests his head against Sam's chest and hugs him hard.
[feedback welcome. comments screened.]
