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starseternl · 11 days

Text

i. stardust; azriel.

synopsis : azriel x half-seraphim!reader. your first starfall with the inner circle, nerves dizzying you like wine. what's worse? watching your love for azriel go unrequited as he dances with anyone but you. but ... is it really unrequited?

warnings : mild swearing, insecure reader / comparing herself to elain, fast-paced emotions, rushed ending, unedited.

a/n : this is my first fic writing for acotar here so pleasee bare with me ( this is also unedited / not proof read, so i apologize for any mistakes ) <3 i hope i did azriel some justice :,) no huge warnings here, just fluff with a hint of angst in between. and absolutely no hate to elain !! she’s the loml tbh.

word count : 6,271

Seventy years.

That’s how long you’d known Rhysand’s family. How long you’d known Azriel.

Seventy years, and yet, this was your first Starfall with them. After all, you had felt too guilty, leaving your boss – Madja – lonely on such a beautiful occasion. The woman wasn’t one for extravagant parties, and often stayed in as the two of you cooked together, much like a mother and a daughter would. Sure, it wasn’t much . . . And it certainly didn’t feel any different from your typical weekends. Yet, the warmth of the moment always had you savoring it. Madja was hard on you, but it was undeniable, the maternal instinct she seemed to possess.

But no amount of beef stew or spiced tomato soup could ever amount to what you felt now.

You stood before Morrigan’s bedroom mirror, unsure of what to do with yourself. Was that even you, staring back? Your eyes were wide, lined with kohl and a strange, silver paste, almost hidden behind your curled lashes. Your lips, parted in a small gape, were the color of aged wine – shining. Dark.

Tempting.

You wanted to congratulate Mor on the work of art she had produced out of you – but before you could utter another word, your gaze fell to the dress.

And, oh, was it breathtaking.

Your bodice cupped your chest like it was molded to you, skin-to-skin, the velvet softer than anything you’d ever had the pleasure of feeling. The deep cobalt blue shifted in the light, almost like molten lapis, placing perfect emphasis on your curves, catching the glow of faelights in just the right spots. You’d never worn anything sleeveless before; you’d always thought them to look boring. But looking down past the sweetheart neckline, to the thick ribbon wrapped around your waist, lacing up your back, ending in that long, perfect bow … Even you had to admit it was a work of art.

You lifted the satin skirts, peering down, wondering if –

“Don’t do that!” Mor playfully hissed at your side, swatting your hands down and away from the delicate material. “You’ll wrinkle it … I spent good money on this dress, you know.”

But you didn’t have the heart to banter, now. Your mouth felt dry as you gravitated towards the mirror, fingertips grazing its surface. “This doesn’t feel real,” you admitted with an exhale, so quiet that your friend barely even caught it.

Her gaze softened a fraction, swiftly standing at your back, fingers adjusting the material lacing you together. Honestly, you were thankful they were there; it felt like the only thing keeping you from crumbling. You had been longing for this for years after meeting the Inner Circle. But, now? Coming to their little Velaris party made you feel as if you were officially one of them. Their friend, their family.

You almost trembled as you – gently, this time – swept your skirts off the floor, taking small steps towards the door, making great attempts not to trip over the blonde’s brand new heels, the ebony leather so fine it barely cut into your flesh. She stifled a laugh at your poor attempts, offering you her bare arm to steady yourself. You graciously accepted, sheepishly gripping your billowing skirts tighter in your free palm. Not that you could admit such a bold claim aloud, but it wasn’t the shoes that had you dizzy. You had worn ridiculous heels many times in your life; boots, stilettos . . . This shouldn’t have been an issue.

Instead, what shook you was the knowledge that he would see you. You, in your sapphire dress. You, clumsily dancing for the first time in years. You, always embarrassing yourself. Always the fool.

The shadowsinger, your muse. He was so graceful, so lovely. Untouchable. Everyone could see that he deserved someone of pure light. Someone soft, like a blanket of warmth. Something you could never be, you supposed. For all you were good at was healing flesh wounds. You never knew how to navigate a faerie’s heart, how to soothe the cracks and wounds.

A muscle ticked in your jaw as the two of you pushed Mor’s bedroom door open, your expression only relaxing as your friend let you go once you’d reached the great, spiraling staircase. The sisters, on the other hand, filed out of a room to the left – each one striking. Nesta in death’s black, ink dripping down every pore. Feyre, in a familiar shade of starlight silver, practically glowing with joy as she bounced little Nyx in her arms. And Elain . . .

You felt a twinge of jealousy upon seeing how stunning she looked tonight. Mauve sweeps of tule and silk hugged her hourglass figure like it was art, the draping sleeves like wisps of petal. Her skirt fell to the floor in great volumes – she looked a bit like a flower, herself. You suddenly felt that confidence, blazing and bright, dwindle down to nothing but a spark. A new reminder that you were like her shadow. Pretty, but never enough to be seen, not while Elain existed. You bit down on your cheek to keep yourself from potentially hurling, stepping to the side in a swift bow as the Archerons passed, teetering down the staircase as one. Feyre had ordered you not to do so, as you were ‘family.’ Even so, you could never suppress the urge.

It was pitiful of you, you had to admit. Elain … She’d never done anything wrong. Perhaps it was merely nature to blame another on your shortcomings, but even when that sinking feeling dove deep beneath your skin, guilt plagued and ate at your heart. Again and again she’d bake sweet cakes and cookies for you – again and again she’d bring you flowers, bright smiles. All because she knew you were unsteady, afraid. Yet you couldn’t stop. Not when Azriel’s gentle smiles only seemed to bloom for her sunlight.

Only when you heard hushed chatter and laughs did you spring back up, sucking in a breath. You peered over the edge, stomach churning as you watched the shadowsinger transfixed by the doe-eyed female. How could you join them, now, when you realized you had no one to talk to? Cassian and Nesta. Amren and Varian. Rhysand and Feyre. Azriel and Elain. Even Mor had found her place beside a newly bashful Emerie. You had been hoping that Gwyneth would join you – but the Nymph stayed in the Library, tending to books with Clotho.

Ripping the handrail, dark nails scraping, you quietly made your down, inch by inch, silently, in hopes no one would see, and –

“Oh, you sure clean up nicely,” came Cassian’s whistle of approval. You groaned, stopping halfway to the floor to dramatically hang over the railing.

“Did you really need to do that? I was trying to be discreet,” you huffed, hands on your thinned waist. You quickly finished your descent, ready to knock heads with the male, his chest puffed out in rather unnecessary pride.

And you would have, if the weight of a certain gaze tore at your focus. Your eyes slid to Azriel’s, and for once, he didn’t shy away. He only watched, those smooth, pretty lips parted in something resembling awe. Elain glanced between the two of you, and for a moment, you could have sworn excitement – anticipation – flash in her lovely brown eyes.

You practically floated towards the Illyrian, drinking him in. That dark hair, clumsily styled into a dark pool of voluminous strands. The way his white blouse – a shade you rarely saw him in – was ever so slightly unbuttoned, revealing hints of his tattoos. But what really caught your eye was the velvet blazer of deepest blue. An article of clothing that perfectly matched your gown.

You, painfully, let your eyes drift to the blonde fae, raising your brows, as if you say, you did this? Mor only grinned, looping her arm through Feyre’s ignoring your inquiry.

But, in the meantime, Azriel hadn’t stopped watching you, from the moment he saw you take the first step towards the hall. He knew you’d be wearing cobalt tonight. He had specifically asked Mor, in fact, smitten and riddled with nerves. But what he didn’t anticipate was how it made him feel. It was the same blue that shone in his siphons, and his heart stirred, a strange sense of warmth rising to his head and chest. It was as if you were his. His to hold, his to touch, his to kiss. His shadows danced, a wisp curling around your neck and winding through your hair, like a necklace. He could feel them giggling like children.

Before he even had the chance to get ahold of the shadows, you were already laughing with them, a finger gently coming up to examine your newfound jewelry.

The male stepped closer to you, rose dusting his cheeks. “They seem to be in a good mood.” He watched you play with them, the one laying on your collar bones shifting to wind itself up and around your forearm, like a serpent, loyal to its mistress. “They like you, I mean,” Azriel clarified as you peered up at him.

“How cute …” you murmured in awe, feeling them pulse against your skin. You met his hazel eyes once again, unable to wipe the grin off your face. “They’re beautiful.”

Beautiful beautiful beautiful. He couldn’t help the small, careful upturning that graced his lips as he let a million thoughts wander through his head. You’re the one who’s beautiful, he wanted to respond – but for the sake of his nerves, and yours, he held his tongue. Instead, he hummed, “We match, you know.”

Your eyes widened, as if you had hoped he wouldn’t notice. “Ah … Right,” your eyes widened, pupils dilating further, “I swear, I didn’t plan this. It’s a coincidence. If I knew you were already wearing blue, I would have asked to change – I don’t mean to steal your thunder.”

Azriel barked an uncharacteristically joyful chuckle, throwing his head back for a moment, the blush dusting his cheeks only glowing a bit brighter. Something you failed to see, eyes stuck to the arch of his throat, the way the muscles moved, his tattoos coming to life. “No,” he gently countered once he’d come down from the clouds. “I think it looks nice. You – we – look nice. Blue suits you.”

And as your lips curled, Azriel thought his heart may have stopped. Had he done that? Him? A sense of pride sparked in his blood, his shadows flaring in reply, still ever so unresponsive to their master. You could feel the way they seemed to shy against you, the dense air they washed over your skin warming – you could’ve sworn it felt like a flush.

You were so enchanted with the creatures, with the peace they brought you; the way it washed over your senses, so much so that you completely missed the velvet-smooth voice that filled your ears. It was an effort to look up from the shadows – after all, you were more than content to sit right there on the floor and play with them all evening, dress and all. But nothing else mattered when a gentle shiver spread through your body, a silken sensation blooming at your shoulder. Your eyes narrowed to the – albeit, gloved – hand that rested on your skin. You didn’t need to see the scars beneath, to know who it was.

Azriel gazed down at you with eyes so full that something in your chest ached in response, drowning under the waves of thousands of words unsaid. You couldn’t read them, each syllable too muddled, too deep to reach – but you knew something was there, lurking beneath those amber irises. “Could you repeat that?” you finally murmured, clasing your hands before you. Your tone was sheepish, the very admission an embarrassment.

“I asked if you would save me a dance,” he clarified. You could hear it, the slight tremor in his voice. He was a master of physical arts, and his body didn’t often betray him – only you knew Azriel well enough to gauge the nerves in his words. “I know you have a duty to dance with Rhys, and Cass is going to snag you, as he does to every pretty lady. But I think I’d regret it, if I didn’t get at least one with you.”

How could you say no? How could you be sensible, think of the consequences, when that stare was so sweet? It was a look you could never refuse, not even when you knew accepting would break your doe-eyed friend’s heart.

Yes; you saw how Elain looked at him, how her rosy lips parted when he walked into a room. She sat up straighter beside him, seemed to speak louder. Like a star hidden by the mountains, rising into the sky to be admired by all. Around Azriel, the girl bloomed. And every hushed compliment from the Shadowsinger was a seed planted along that pale skin, growing until she could one day love herself as much as everyone else seemed to love her. It was shameful, to live off another’s joy … But watching how smooth they were together, you couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to be loved by him. Selfish. You knew she loved him first, yet you craved him more than all else. You knew you had no right to want his touch, to crave him like air, but you did both. He was your air, yes – the kind that burned your lungs, coughing on stardust, too much to look at, blinding, suffocating –

“Yes.”

The word came choked, pulling you from the waters of your mind. “Yes, of course,” you repeated again, softer this time. You were never a dancer, could never drift across the ballroom like shallow water. But with him, it felt different. Wings could sprout from your back – you could fly, when his spotlight was on you.

The male’s face seemed to relax with the acceptance, warmth spreading to his cheeks. You were in your own little world, a fragile bubble that you wanted to stay in forever … Until a louder, feminine voice put a pin in it.

“Right, we get it, you want to tear each other’s clothes off,” Mor teased with a groan, red gown twisting as she faced the two of us, Emerie peeking out from behind her. “But I’m not missing Starfall because two insufferable idiots refuse to get a move-on. I’ve got things to do.” She winked, and with the click of her tongue, Rhysand nodded. Nodded – but you could see the smirk on his lips when his gaze fell on Azriel.

“As refreshing as this is,” he agreed, “we have a duty to make an appearance. Lest you want to be chastised by our people, I suggest we leave.” He had taken Nyx from the bundle in Feyre’s arms, bouncing the babe in his own large embrace. The boy was grasping at his fathers blue-black hair, pulling at the strands.

You brushed past the Illyrian to stroke Nyx’s head, cooing for the small child. Barely a toddler, and you could tell he’d grow to be as strong as – if not stranger than – his father. But it certainly brought no fear, often surrounded by the coddling of the adults around him.

As a half-Seraphim, yourself, you were less on the … Territorial side. Your instincts were more like a soft duvet, contrary to Azriel and Cassian’s hammer-like tendencies. Thanks to this, the Night Court’s heir had grown quite fond of you – of course, not nearly as much as his mother and father, but you were a close third. You swept the black-haired boy into your arms, holding him at eye-level with you, his chubby fingers reaching for your pearls and jewels. “Ah-ah,” you tutted, a mock frown placed on your painted lips. “I know these are pretty, but your Auntie spent her hard earned money on these. You can touch when you’re older.”

Nyx seemed to deflate with the rejection, and you almost felt guilty for the poor thing. His mother, donned in white, cupped his little face in her hands and pressed a kiss to his head.

“Now, let’s not get pouty … You’ll perk right back up when you see the treats Elain made for the party,” the High Lady hummed. At the word “treats”, he seemed to glow once again, tiny wings flapping as Feyre took him back, bouncing him against her chest. You couldn’t help the giggle that slipped past your lips, the scene painted perfection. You were glad to see your friend with such a loving family around her – she deserved it.

A cool breeze grazed your back and you strained your head to peek behind you, eyes drinking in a torso covered in black, white, and blue. “Let’s not keep Nyx waiting. He’ll grow impatient,” Azriel suggested, that quiet, smooth voice loud in your ears. You could feel his shadowed smirk, that silent humor. He reached a gloved hand out to you and your heart seemed to melt. Was he really asking to escort you? You slid your fingers between his, feeling the rough, charred skin mold to the tight fabric of the gloves. It was a familiar sensation, comforting. The nice thing about loving the Shadowsinger? You always knew. You knew it was him when he’d touch your arm, scarred fingertips all too easy to feel. You knew it was him when you saw shadows snake across the floor of every room, moments before you saw him. Mother, you even knew him down to that night-chilled mist and cedar scent. It blanketed you on drunken nights in which he walked you back to your room in Feyre’s estate, lingering even when you’d crawled into bed and fallen asleep like a rock. His hand tightened around yours, sliding his arm so it supported yours, linking your bodies together. Something about his shadows seemed more careful than before, like summer air.

You supposed you wouldn’t mind if your hair got ruined if it meant Azriel got to fly you there. Mor could deal with it.

***

By the time the Illyrian set you on the pavement outside The Rainbow, you were already exhausted. Yes, you were a night owl – fitting for the court you stayed in – but the heavy jewels stuck to your arms, your neck, and the weighted material of your dress – it all had you wanting to sit down and doze off for a good few hours. You knew your feet would ache by the end of the evening. You could hear the booming music, the orchestra’s melody brighter than the stars, the cheers of Rhysand’s subjects as he led his mate and son down the stairs. You could almost picture it without seeing it then; the Lord and his Lady, glorious like the moon.

You let the Spymaster set your hand on his, leading you down the steps, ebony wings never quite dragging as you followed him. You had wanted to thank him for the fly, an excuse to talk to him amongst the vast expanse of people –

But something else caught your eye.

The sky.

Your lips parted in wonder, a sort of floating sensation spreading through your body. It was beautiful. You knew starfall wasn’t about the actual glowing dots in the sky, but the spirits, coming to visit in star-shaped forms. And you watched the large bodies descend from the pool of black, silently colliding with the streets of velaris, leaving the pavement sprinkled in glittery, illuminated substances. it painted the streets, the buildings – you felt like you were standing in a fantasy. things felt … peaceful. soft.

“Pretty, aren’t they?” Cassian smirked from behind you, an arm slung around Nesta’s waist – much to her teasing dismay, as she mouthed a short “possessive baby,” to you. You nodded at the warlord, the corners of your mouth lifting … only for them to fall right back down when he added, “Yeah. They’re dying out every year. One day, they’ll be gone.”

You gasped, brows dipping. Your stomach seemed to churn, your gaze on the spirits suddenly grew heavy, sorrowful. Your excitement died down to a sort of mourning. You knew you’d be alive another, what, five hundred years? More? Would they be gone by then? Out of the corner of your eye, you watched Nesta jab her mate in the stomach, scolding him for the sudden trainwreck of angst.

You spent most of the party sitting around members of the court, sipping expensive wines and gazing up at the glass roof, coated in that glowing powder. You couldn’t keep your gaze off of it – not when Rhysand swept you into a waltz, his dancing skills smooth as you remembered from Under the Mountain. Elegant as the dark, night incarnate. He certainly lived up to the name, gliding across the marble floor with such ease that you almost slipped on your own two feet, practically being dragged around like a ragdoll. You excused yourself shortly, handing him off to his wife, who scowled when he seemed to pout, clearly enjoying torturing you, ever the brother-figure. You knew he’d be in it for a mouthful at home. It made you chuckle, even when Cassian took the chance to wrap his arm around yours, that boysterous demeanor louder with the consumption of so much alcohol. You could smell it on his breath, and see it in his sloppy dancing – and when he asked you to twirl him, the male practically playing limbo to try and fit under your raised arm. You sniggered, mocking his height – until those wings slapped you square in the face when he finally succeeded. You grumbled, excusing yourself to find a drink as his warm, hollering laughter followed you down and across the ballroom.

That left one dance owed.

Azriel.

It wasn’t that you weren’t looking forward to it. Quite the opposite, actually. Rather, it was that the shadowsinger was nowhere to be found. You knew he had the tendency to slip off into the security of his shadows during large gatherings … But what were you to do? It was nearly two in the morning, and things were coming to a close. Or, at least, the music was. It had grown softer, suitable for smalltalk and laughter, rather than dance and partying.

Plus, Elain was missing, too, and for some strange reason, it made your skin itch. Was she with him? Had they snuck off alone, to admire the moonlight? You couldn’t blame them; she had looked lovely that evening. You admired her for it. You always had. She was there for you when others were not, an angel in disguise, fallen from the heavens. You hadn’t known the Mother was capable of creating a fae so perfect. Didn’t want to know. At least, not while it made you feel so … average. Good for nothing.

You gripped your arms, turning to gaze at your friends, huddled and chattering like a flock of birds. Radiant. Untouchable. Did you belong there, with them? Placed on a pedestal, to be admired and feared and loved? It had you wanting to hurl, a shiver making its way up your back. You swiftly jerked your head forward, heels clacking, feet aching as you slipped down a dark hall, relishing in the way the voices and music seemed to die down the further you walked.

You reached a small archway, illuminated only by the bright moonlight, a small breeze leaking in through it. You stepped past the threshold, finding yourself on a familiar balcony – familiar not by memory, but by description. Feyre told you about it many times, about how she’d shared her first genuine moment with Rhysand there. You scoffed and shook your head, the irony lifting your mood. Leaning on your forearms, the railing cool on your skin, you let the wind ruffle – if not ruin – your hair, eyes fixated up. You’d miss it, when those little glowing shapes were nothing but a whisper of dust in the world. Despite being pissy at Cassian for soiling your spirits with the fact, you were also grateful, because it meant you could savor their presence just a tad bit more.

“Feeling overwhelmed?” You instantly knew who that voice was. Without turning, you responded with a hum. “I needed a bit of quiet. You Illyrians can be insufferable.”

Azriel barked a laugh, the sound so genuine and rare that you felt your chest stir. He sounded like pure starlight, and you wanted to fall into it. “Maybe so, but I don’t see you leaving.”

“Because you fools would go batshit insane if I ever did.” I manage to roll my eyes, fighting back a love-struck smile. “What’ve you been doing all night? I thought you’d be more into the celebration. I know parties aren’t your thing … But I was told you adored Starfall.” Az considered, the material of his suit creasing. “Elain asked me to take her to The Rainbow’s gardens. We watched the spirits from there – better view.”

Truth. You could tell by the way his voice softened, the corners of his eyes relaxed, his shadows hiding nothing. Your stomach dropped, as though you hadn’t seen it coming. Of course he was with Elain. When was he not? You pressed your lips together before replying, eyes dropped from the sky to your clasped fingers. “Mm. Had I known, I would’ve stayed outside … Cass and Rhys practically danced the soles of my feet off.”

You heard a deep, joyous rumble to your left. “Did Cassian step on your toes?”

I sighed dramatically, neck craning. “Obviously. And gave me one Hel of a nosebleed”

“I’m sure I could do better. I like to think I’m in control of my own body.”

You shook your head, lips twitching. “Finally offering me that dance you wanted?” I joked, lifting my skirts.

“You know I’m not one to break a promise,” came his reply, that dark smirk on the panes of his face. You giggled, turning to exit the balcony and make my way down to the ballroom. “Race you?”

Rather than complying like he usually would, the male caught hold of your wrist – gently, but hard enough that you halted.

“Stay.”

Your heart couldn’t have thundered as loud as it did then. Heat rose to your cheeks and you turned your head to look at him – really look at him, for the first time in hours. And, gods, did you regret it. Flushed by the cold in the wind, hair disheveled, falling into his eyes … You were done for.

“Stay?” you parroted, head cocking to the side. “There’s no music up here.” Half truth; music leaked from below, but it was so quiet, our hushed voices could easily cover it.

“I know. But if we go down there, we’ll be bombarded with those busybodies. I want it to be –” he shook his head, a glow rising to his cheeks. “Just … Stay.”

Your heart melted, shoulders slumping, the grip on your skits loosening as you faced him. He wanted you to be alone. Just the two of you. He may not have outright admitted it, but you could see it on his face, the hopeful shimmer in those hazel eyes, like honey. It was often like this, with you two; unbeknownst to your friends, your relationship wasn’t all teasing and joking. No – outside their gaze, in the shadows, the two of you oftentimes dwelled in silence together. You had trouble sleeping most nights, and came shuffling out of your room for milk and tea, a book clutched in your hands. And Azriel? His shadows simply never shut up. Sleep wasn’t much of an option for him. It became tradition, your nightly meet-ups on the roof of Feyre’s manor, laughing and indulging in Rhys’s good wine. It was the first time you’d seen the large man drunk, suddenly becoming needy and sensitive, like an oversized baby.

You’d been staring at him a moment too long, eyes locked onto his parted lips, those flushed cheeks. Shaking your head, you finally turned your body, nearing him with a carefulness akin to approaching a wounded deer. “Okay,” you finally breathed. You knew you were a mess, so late into the evening. Tangled, frizzy hair, wrinkles on your dress. But little did you know, you’d never looked more beautiful to Azriel.

Without another word, his hands were on you. They cupped your waist, guided your hands to his shoulders, with such grace that you swore he had experience. Maybe the Spymaster was a playboy, as strange as that was for a male of his kind.

But all thought emptied from your head when he guided you by the hips so you were centimeters from him, face so close to his chest you could feel the warmth coming in waves. Could feel his shadows tenderly stroke your cheek, winding around your neck and shoulders like scarves. You couldn't even bring yourself to touch them, play with them – not while your hands were on him, feeling muscle shift beneath his skin and clothes as he swayed you, ease and relaxation working its way into his step. Even with no real music, no tempo, Rhysand and Cassian’s dances paled in comparison to this (not that Cassian’s had much appeal … That man was like an ostrich with a broken ankle on the dance floor). This, with those eyes gazing down at you with such peace. This, listening to his every breath, the way it seemed to catch when you moved to sling your arms around his neck, bringing you impossibly closer. This was what you loved most.

You knew Azriel couldn’t go farther than touching a female’s hands without beating himself to a pulp – knew he ridiculed himself too much, as too afraid. Yet, something changed in him when he brought a hand previously on your waist to your head. It was by no means a harsh action, but rather something done with such softness that your heart fractured. He cupped the back of your head, fingers buried in the soft strands of your hair, and brought your head to his chest, letting you rest your cheek against the soft silk of his dress-shirt and blazer. You were no longer dancing – you were moving, like plants in the wind. But it was too intimate to be labeled a dance. You were simply holding one-another. Holding on to something you couldn’t quite place.

“I’m … Glad I got one dance in tonight.” His voice seemed to vibrate across his body, sending waves down your cheek. You couldn’t see his face – not when yours was stuck to his chest, but you could hear something sweet in his tone.

I huffed against the silks and cotton, inching back to get a good look at his expression. “You didn’t dance with anyone else? Not even Elain?”

He raised a dark brow, shadows swirling around his back. “Lucien would gut me if I dared to try.”

“Lucien isn’t here tonight.”

“Mm. Something Elain was awfully upset about. It wasn’t on my bucket-list, though.”

Surprise coursed through your veins, going right to your thundering heart. He didn’t want to dance with her? The female who was practically the belle of the ball? And she … Was waiting for Lucien. You couldn’t quite believe it, but you knew the shadowsinger wasn’t one for lies. For a spymaster, he was a terrible actor to anyone who knew him. He could lie to enemies, to his brothers when it counted. But otherwise, those cheeks would be dusted in pink, gaze practically oozing nerves.

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled from your throat. “Well, I am more than honored to be your first pick,” you teased, jabbing him between the ribs.

But Azriel was unfazed. Where you had expected a laugh, there was only his heavy stare, his parting lips. “You’re the only one I ever want to dance with.”

Your heart seemed to stop its beating right there and then. Your throat, dry like sandpaper, seemed to keep so many thoughtless words as you could only stare up at him, quite aware of the heat rising to your face. You’re the only one I ever want to dance with.

What the hell did that mean?

“I know I’m one hell of a dancer, but you need to give Rhys some credit, too,” you finally bit out, the breezy jest you’d intended to lead into your tone coming out strained, nervous.

Azriel bit his lip, those shadows swirling to cup his face, his neck, peeking over the expanse of his wings. He was … Embarrassed. “You don’t understand,” he murmured, a scarred – and gloveless, you noted – hand reaching to cup your face – then stopping before it could reach the skin you so desperately needed him to touch. “I – you don't …” he huffed, raking those fingers through his hair. “You are much denser than Cassian tried to let on.”

Denser.

It hit you like an arrow to the chest, a zing of shock shaking you to your very core. Was this him confessing? You mindlessly blinked, makeup-covered lashes fluttering. The male you had been pining after for years wanted you. In retrospect, it made sense. He always sat by you, always did things for you, always protected you, first. But there was always an excuse to bypass the information like it was nothing. The way he once loved Mor, that he was simply a kind soul … Which was the truth, beneath the hard mask of the Night Court’s Spymaster.

Then, Elain. But Elain wasn’t in the picture anymore, not when Azriel had just revealed her little affairs with Lucien. Not when he was admitting that this was all so, so real.

“Az –” you choked out, reaching for his hand, taking it in yours. His scars were warm, and despite how he refused to look you in the eye, his fingers clutched yours so desperately that you swore you felt tears well, burning you. “Are you trying to – do you … Fuck, this is hard.” You exhaled, a sudden wave of nerves hurling at you. You didn’t know what to say, what to do, where to look – and hell, he looked so pretty, with those rosy cheeks and messy hair. You opened your mouth to finally just say it, the words bounding up your throat, ready, and –

Snap.

Your chest heaved, something missing for years, something hollow, suddenly full. Like you’d found an oasis in a desert, and you couldn’t waste even a single drop. You’d wondered since you were a child who your missing piece was. Who was tethered to your mind and body and heart, who was destined to be yours.

“Mate,” his shallow, hoarse voice cut through the thick air like a prayer.

All restraint snapped, all reason to be civil seemed to vanish as he cupped your face, thumbs running over your cheekbones. You could faintly see the outline of tears in the moonlight, coating his skin. Azriel, as you knew it, never cried. He never let himself cry, never even wallow in pity. Only that icy, silent rage. But seeing the emotion dripping down his face, all you wanted to do was hold him, tell him it was alright, tell him what you felt, that you loved him, to kiss him –

Just like that, his lips were on yours.

Fleeting, soft – but, gods, it was perfect. You could feel the trembling of his movements as they parted, the taste of him finer than champagne, a cocktail of bittersweet anticipation and fervent affection. Your hands slipped from his, rising to loop around his neck as he fluttered against your lips, a butterfly’s kiss. A sigh, scarcely audible, escaped you, carrying with it the weight of endless nights spent yearning for that exact moment. Your fingers tangle in the inky strands of his hair, and anchor to reality, prayer that it wasn’t a dream.

And even when you inched back for the breath that you were so bitter to need, the feeling of his touch lingered, his flavor coating your mouth, ever-present. You touched your forehead to his, and he didn’t mind that he needed to crane his neck forward to reach you. Not one bit – and especially not when you murmured into the night, meant only for his ears, a quiet “I love you.”

You felt it, the way he tensed in your embrace. Not in a defiant way, not something that spoke of regret for the moment you shared. But fear for something new – something unexplored.

“I love you, too.”

You could have gone and cried yourself a whole new ocean right there and then, even at the price of Mor’s scolding as your makeup dripped down your cheeks. But was it your fault? You didn’t think so – not that it mattered. All you saw was him, even when your eyes went blurry and your heart seemed to burst.

Then – footsteps, a familiar male voice. “Do you think they’re fucking out there?”

“Cassian!” Nesta hissed, a slap ringing through the dark hall behind them.

“He isn’t wrong …” Mor chirped, amusement echoing in each syllable. “Az looked like he was about to pass out when he saw her.”

Dear Mother. Of course your meddling friends wanted to stick their nose in your business. Indecent, perhaps, but you smiled all the same, rolling your eyes as the two of you listened to their ceaseless chatter.

“I think,” Azriel murmured, his wing curling around you, blocking out the moonlight and endless stars, “we should return before they start the next town gossip.”

“... Smart.”

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badkitty3000 · 1 month

Text

UPDATED 4/17/24! CHAPTER SIX ADDED!

☕Love In The Time Of Cholera And Coffee ☕

Chapters 1-6

Five x Female Reader, Klaus x Female Reader

You and Klaus are in a casual relationship. No ties, just sex. When you start spending a lot of time at his apartment, you somehow manage to break through his brother's prickly outer shell. He seems to like you, or at least tolerate you the best that Five can. When you start to realize that maybe there is more than just mutual friendship between the two of you, it opens up a lot of feelings and unanswered questions. And a lot of problems.

This story contains sexually explicit material! (But also lots of humor and fluff)

Chapters 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

Multi-Chapter Fic, Cross-posted on AO3. Link to my Master List.

This story alternates between the reader's POV and Five's POV. I will update a chapter at a time going forward. If you'd like to read it on AO3's format, here is the Link to story on AO3.

Thank you for reading!

Chapter One: Motivation, Routine, and Caffeine

You have been sort of dating Klaus for several weeks already. Not exactly his girlfriend and not exactly not his girlfriend. You are something in between and you are ok with that. You don’t need a major commitment and you are content with a casual relationship. Maybe not forever, but for right now it suits your needs. Klaus is fun and easygoing, and always makes you feel relaxed. He can be selfish sometimes, that is true, but you are willing to overlook it for the most part. As long as he doesn’t bring his selfishness into the bedroom, which so far he has not, then you could live with it.

The sex is good. Which is probably the real reason you’ve been hanging around so long. Without the sex, there isn’t a whole lot keeping you there. You don’t have a lot in common, except that you both like watching old English-dubbed Samurai movies on TV late at night while passing a joint back and forth. You don’t even like smoking that much, but Klaus has a way of making everything seem alluring and sexy, so you never hesitate when he takes a long hit off a joint and hands it over to you.

You spend a lot of your time at his apartment. You work a lot of hours, and sometimes have to work late, and his apartment is much closer than yours. That’s actually where you had met Klaus, at the bakery and coffee shop that you manage. He had come in for a tea and started making small talk with you. Before you knew it, he had you cracking up when he made a joke about eating your muffin. You weren’t even offended; that’s just part of the magic of Klaus. He can say pretty much anything and get away with it.

It doesn’t hurt that he’s one of the most beautiful men on the planet. Honestly, sometimes you’re jealous of how every single piece of clothing looks amazing on him and he never seems to have a bad hair day. Being with Klaus is like walking around in the company of some ancient Greek sculpture come to life. He draws eyes wherever he goes, from both men and women, and he’s never shy about returning the looks, either.

He likes to go shopping with you to help you pick out clothes, and he always lets you know if they look good on you or not. He’s funny, and sweet, and it’s very easy to fall under his spell. With Klaus you get the best of both worlds; a fun best friend that you can share clothes and gossip with, but who you also get to fuck.

That initial run-in with him eventually led to a few hook ups, and now you are a regular visitor at his place. It works out well. He always stays up late, so it’s no big deal if you swing by on your way out of work at midnight.

You are also working a lot in order to hopefully buy the shop from the current owner. Soon, you’ll have enough cash, along with a loan from the bank, to buy it. And you already run the place, anyway. It has always been a dream of yours to be able to own your own business.

So, between the long hours and financial preparation for the purchase, you don’t have a whole lot of free time. Most of what you do have, you spend with Klaus since it’s convenient and fun. Which, as it turns out, means you are also spending a lot of time with his brother.

You knew from the beginning who Klaus was. You know all about The Umbrella Academy and the Hargreeves family, because everyone does. Not that they’re really a household name anymore, but you know all about their history and their powers. So, when you found Klaus shared an apartment with Number Five, you were intrigued. You knew he had gone missing for a long time, but didn’t really know the whole story. Klaus had filled you in one night, though, and you were left feeling sorry and sad for him. That is, until you met him.

The first time you were there, sitting on the couch with Klaus watching TV, Five had teleported directly into the living room and scared the living shit out of you. After you screamed, he looked at you like you were some sort of flea-ridden possum that had gotten inside the house when someone left the door open.

“Holy shit!” you had shrieked, clutching at your chest and trying to catch your breath.

Without addressing you in any way, or introducing himself, Five glared at you, then turned to Klaus with a scowl. “Keep your feet off the coffee table. And stop leaving the goddamn milk out.”

Then he was gone again, in a swoosh of light, leaving you staring at an empty space.

“Wow, that was intense. Does he always do that?” you had asked Klaus.

Klaus just laughed and nodded, putting his feet back up on the coffee table. “Oh yeah, that’s just Five. You get used to it.”

“He seems kind of scary. And angry.”

“Fivey? Oh no, not at all. My big brother is really just a mushy little teddy bear all dressed up in a three-piece suit. Trust me, his bark is much bigger than his bite.” Then Klaus creased his eyebrows together in thought and pointed his joint at you. “But, maybe try not to piss him off too much. Just in case.”

Because of what you learned about Five’s time travel mishaps, he looked younger than Klaus and a few years younger than you. You were somewhere in between the two of them. But Five definitely had the grumpy, older brother thing down. After you got used to him appearing and disappearing without warning, you started to loosen up around him a little bit. Even though Klaus told you he was really a softy inside, you have a hard time believing it from the way he acts around you. After several weeks straight of being ignored, you decide to call him out on his bullshit.

Five appears out of a portal of blue directly in front of you as you are on your way to the bathroom. As usual, he gives you his signature sneer and is about to walk past you when you grab him by the arm. He looks down at his arm where your hand is and then back at your face; a murderous glint in his eyes.

“What the hell is your problem?” you ask him, doing your very best not to show your nerves.

“My problem? I don’t have a problem, thank you. Now let go of me.”

His voice is hard, but he also hasn’t tried to pull away, and you keep your hand on him. His upper arm is much firmer and solid than you had expected and you can feel his bicep flexing under your fingers.

“Why are you always so rude? I haven’t done anything to you.”

Five rolls his eyes and sighs. “Christ. Look, I’m sorry if I’m not dying to be all buddy-buddy with you. I learned a while ago that it’s not exactly worth getting to know my brother’s flavor of the month.”

You know he’s meaning to insult you, but you end up laughing instead. It’s no secret that Klaus is a total man-whore and you’re fine with that. It’s nothing serious and if another man came along that you were interested in, Klaus wouldn’t mind that, either. In fact, he’d probably want to meet him.

“Look, your mean old man act is wearing a little thin. It wouldn’t kill you to be somewhat nice once in a while. Maybe even get to know me? Most people think I’m a fucking delight.”

Five gives a sarcastic snort of laughter and looks back at your hand on his arm. This time, you let go. “How about this, sweetheart? If you’re still around next week, I’ll consider finding out how much of a fucking delight you are.”

You smile and hold out your hand, ignoring his condescension. “Alright, old man. Deal.”

You notice a tiny twitch of the corner of his mouth, but then it’s gone again. He looks cautiously at your hand, like he’s not sure what to do with it at first, and then he gives it a quick shake with his own before muttering something under his breath and blinking away again.

It is exactly one week later, and you haven’t forgotten Five’s deal. He has been slightly more cordial to you in the past seven days, but he still doesn’t take the time to stick around more than two minutes to talk to you. So, you’re practically beaming with satisfaction that you get to rub it in his face and actually make him talk to you.

You corner him in the kitchen one morning, as he’s pouring a cup of coffee. “Hi!” you exclaim loudly as his back is turned to you, and you laugh when he almost spills his coffee everywhere.

“Fuck!” he yells, before turning around and glaring at you.

You bounce on your toes and clap. “Guess what today is?”

“I can only hope that it’s National Leave Your Boyfriend’s Brother The Fuck Alone Day?”

You give a fake laugh and shake your head. “No, dummy. And he’s not my boyfriend, anyway. It’s been a week and I’m still here, right in your grumpy little face. So, now you have to talk to me.”

“I most certainly do not,” he states dryly before taking a sip of his coffee and then making a face of disgust. “Damn it, Klaus cannot make a decent pot of coffee to save his life.”

“Oh my gosh, that’s what I told him! It’s the worst!”

That seems to pique Five’s interest a little and he gives a small smile. “He buys the cheapest shit ever. Everyone knows the secret to good coffee is –"

“Quality coffee beans.”

He looks stunned that you said exactly what he was going to say and he lowers his mug. “Yeah, that’s right.”

“See? If you had taken the time to know me a little, you would know that I actually manage a café. I know all about good coffee.”

You don’t know him well enough to recognize all of his expressions, but if you could guess, you’d say he looks somewhat impressed.

You continue on. “And, since I know firsthand that Klaus’s coffee is total shit, I have started bringing my own with me. Wait right here.”

You leave, go into Klaus’s bedroom, and pull out a small bag of coffee grounds from the overnight bag you brought with you. When you return to the kitchen, Five is still waiting there, and you hold it up for him to see.

“Now, move out of the way so I can dump that swamp water out and make us something good.”

Five actually does what you say, and moves out of your way, allowing you to clean out the pot and fill the coffee maker up with fresh water and your special grounds. He doesn’t say anything, but he’s watching you intently. It’s slightly unnerving but you try to ignore it.

When you’re done and all you can do is wait for the coffee to brew, the two of you stand on opposite sides of the kitchen, leaning against the countertop. Five has his arms crossed over his chest and you start fidgeting with your hands, picking at your nails and cuticles. Your boldness from just a few minutes ago has faded.

“So, you’re the manager of a café?” Five finally asks, breaking the silence.

“Yes. Soon to be owner, if things go well.”

Five raises his eyebrows and nods his head in approval. “Sounds like a smart move.”

“I hope so. It’s a big step, but I’m ready for it. I want to be my own boss.”

Five nods his head again, but doesn’t say anything. After another minute of silence, the coffee maker beeps. Thankful for something to do, you pull out two new clean mugs and pour each of you a cup. When you hand one to Five, he takes it from you and you notice his hands. They look strong, with taught tendons running down the backs and long, slender fingers. You’ve always had a thing for hands.

“Holy shit,” Five says, his forehead creased with lines.

“What? No good?” you ask, genuinely surprised that he wouldn’t like it.

“No, quite the opposite. This is perfect!”

You laugh and hold up your mug. “And you didn’t want to get to know me.”

Five makes a face that kind of resembles a smile and takes another drink. “Well, if I’d known you made coffee like this…”

You laugh again and shake your head. “Klaus insists you are just a big teddy bear, and maybe I’m beginning to see it. Underneath all that crabbiness, anyway.”

“I’m not crabby,” Five insists, giving you the crabbiest frown ever.

“Oh, ok. Sorry. Curmudgeonly? Would you prefer that?”

To your surprise, he actually laughs. You’ve never heard him laugh before and it catches you off guard. But you like the way his face breaks into a big grin and the sound that rises up out of his chest like it’s been stored in there for a very long time and is finally being released.

“Well, I’ll be damned…did you just make Senor Cinco laugh?”

You and Five both turn and see Klaus sauntering into the kitchen to join you, wearing nothing but a small pair of bright blue underpants. He sidles up to you and throws an arm around your shoulder, leaning down and giving you a kiss on the cheek.

“I did!” you exclaim with a smile, putting your arm around his naked waist.

“That just might be a new record. Usually, it takes at least three months, plus a few thinly-veiled death threats, before you get an honest to goodness laugh out of him.”

Five rolls his eyes and his face returns to its normal seriousness. “Actually, Klaus, I just don’t laugh at anything you have to say. Because you’re a fucking idiot.”

“Aw…I love you too, Fivey,” Klaus responds before he reaches out and ruffles Five’s hair.

Five bristles and runs a hand over the mess Klaus made, trying to restore his normal style.

“Well, as much as I’d love to continue this thrilling conversation, I’ll be taking my leave now. Enjoy your day doing…what do you two do, anyway? Contract various STDs and debate the nuances of Scooby Doo?”

You let out a loud cackle at that, which makes Five smile crookedly in your direction; right before he blinks away, leaving Klaus rolling his eyes and you with an inexplicably warm feeling in your chest.

Another week has passed and you and Klaus are still playing the no-ties dating game. Since you had turned Five on to your coffee making skills, the two of you have developed a bit of a friendship. While Klaus likes to stay up late and sleep in the next day, you are up early. Despite your long work hours, you generally don’t need a lot of sleep to function. You run mostly on motivation, routine, and caffeine. Which, coincidentally, so does Five.

Because you are both up in the early morning hours, you and Five will end up meeting in the kitchen when the sun is barely above the horizon. He will sit quietly at the small kitchen table and watch while you go about making coffee for the two of you. Neither of you say much until the coffee is finished brewing and has been poured. Then you sit down across from Five and he’ll actually engage in conversation.

At first, it was like pulling teeth to get Five to answer any questions, but after a while he warmed up. Now, you’re pretty sure he actually likes sitting down and talking to you. This morning is no different, and you and Five are in the kitchen, comfortably talking and sipping coffee when Klaus wanders in.

He yawns and stretches his sinewy body before flashing you a smile. “Morning, babe. I feel like waffles. You guys want some waffles?”

Five says nothing, but you smile back up at Klaus. “As long as you aren’t suggesting I get up and make them, then yes, I’m up for some waffles. We can go to that diner down the street.”

Klaus comes over and starts running his hands through your hair, massaging your scalp in the process and combing out the tangles with his fingers. It feels nice and relaxing and you close your eyes. When you open them again, your gaze lands on Five and your eyes meet. Something about the way he is looking at you makes your face flush with embarrassment and you gently push Klaus’s hands away, laughing.

“Quit it,” you say lightly, even though under normal circumstances you love it when Klaus plays with your hair.

He takes a step back, unfazed, and goes to pour himself a cup of coffee. Five is still watching you and you have to avert your eyes just to think straight. You scoot your chair back and stand up, turning to Klaus.

“So, are we going or what?”

Klaus shrugs. “Sure, you buying?”

You roll your eyes. “Don’t I always?”

“Yes, you do. And then I pay you back in a much more physical way.”

“You realize that makes you sound like you’re prostituting yourself for breakfast foods.”

“I’ve done a lot worse for a lot less.”

You laugh and then you see Five get up and start to make his way out of the kitchen. “Five wait!”

He stops and turns to you, coffee cup still in hand, and eyes you up. “Yeah?”

“Come with us.”

“I don’t think so. You two toddlers go ahead.”

You frown and jut your hip out. “First of all, stop insulting us. Second, name one good reason you don’t want to come with us. I mean, you do eat, don’t you? Or do you survive solely on black coffee and sarcasm?”

You see that faint smile playing on Five’s lips again. The one that gives you a little flutter in your stomach when you see it; because you know you’re one of the few that can actually get him to break.

“Yes, I do eat. If surviving on coffee and sarcasm were a thing, it would have made my life in the apocalypse much easier.”

He’s kidding, but you still feel bad about your comment and you cringe a little at the mention of his traumatic past. Klaus, though, just waves a hand in the air dramatically.

“Come on, Fivey! What’s not to like about spending time with your favorite brother, while also getting some free waffles?”

“Pleeeaase?” you beg while batting your lashes exaggeratedly in Five’s direction.

After another annoyed eye roll and a huffy sigh, Five relents. “Fine! I will go to your stupid diner and eat your stupid waffles.”

“That a boy!” Klaus goes to slap Five on the back, but he has already blinked out of the kitchen.

“I hope it’s ok that I invited him?” you ask.

“Of course it’s ok. I can’t believe he said yes, though. I’ve been trying to get him out and socializing forever. It’s like you have a special magic touch with him. You’re like the Number Five Whisperer.”

You laugh. “Yeah, right. I think he just wanted breakfast.”

Klaus shakes his head. “No, really. I’ve seen him around you. He actually listens to you and isn’t mean.”

“He’s mean to me all the time!”

“Well, compared to what the rest of the world gets from him, that’s nothing. He once called me the human version of a shart.”

When you can’t help doubling over with laughter at that, Klaus puts a hand on his hip. “It was very hurtful.”

“I’m sorry, but that’s hilarious. Say what you want, but the man is funny. Whether he intends to be or not.”

“Just you wait. When he starts comparing you to shitting his pants, then we’ll see how funny you think he is.”

Once you are all showered and dressed, the three of you walk over to the diner for breakfast. You are planning on going directly to work from there, so you have your bag slung over your shoulder. The weight of it is evident by the way you’re slumped to one side while you lug it around, and Five eyes it curiously as you slide into a booth. You and Klaus are on one side while Five is across from you.

“What do you have in there? Bricks?” Five asks you as he picks up a menu.

“Yes. I carry around a bag full of bricks. One never knows when one might need to perform an emergency masonry job.”

You see Five’s lips purse together in a failed attempt at trying not to smile, avoiding your eyes by pretending to peruse the menu.

Klaus lets out a loud hoot of laughter and puts his arm around your shoulders. “Looks like you may have met your match in the snide comment department, Fivey.”

Five glances up and flicks a stray piece of hair off his face. “Doubtful. I am, and will always remain, the king of snide comments.”

You and Five exchange amused looks and you peer down at your own menu. A waitress comes to the table to take your orders and Klaus flashes her one of his beautiful smiles and you can see she is instantly smitten by him.

“A round of waffles and coffee for the table, please.” Klaus gestures to all three of you. “And make sure to give the bill to my sugar mama over here.”

The waitress gives you a funny look and you shrug with a smile before she wanders off to put in the order.

“Klaus!” Five hisses, leaning forward.

“What?”

“If you can’t pay for your own breakfast, I will. Don’t make her do it.”

Klaus looks genuinely taken aback. “Why? She offered.”

“Because it’s…” Five pauses and sighs and if you thought he was capable of embarrassment that might have been what he was conveying. “…it’s not gentlemanly.”

You chew on your bottom lip and look down in your lap so that you don’t laugh, but also so that Five doesn’t see how completely shocked you are at this statement.

Klaus frowns at Five. “I forget sometimes that you’re an old coot under that sleek body of yours. Don’t be so old-fashioned, Fivey. The times they are a-changin’.” He turns to you. “Besides, am I nothing but a gentleman?”

They are both looking at you for some sort of response and you laugh nervously. “Yes, you are mostly a gentleman. And I don’t mind paying; I did offer.” Klaus looks smug and Five rolls his eyes. “However,” you point a finger at each of them, “neither one of you offered to carry my bag for me on the way here.”

You watch with satisfaction as both of their mouths hang open for a second before they realize they have nothing to say to that. Just then, the waitress comes by with your coffees and starts to set them down in front of you on the tabletop. As you smirk to yourself, you hear both men utter a soft “sorry” under their breath before taking a sip from their mugs.

Five clears his throat. “You never did answer me. What are you carrying around in there?”

You glance at the overstuffed tote bag next to you. “Well, some extra clothes and toiletries, but also my laptop and a bunch of notebooks and file folders. I’m applying for a large bank loan and need to make sure all of my ducks are in a row.”

“Oh, that’s right. You’re planning on buying your café.”

Klaus leans back against the booth. “Yeah, she’s cute and smart. Hey, another thing you two have in common!”

Five takes another drink and mutters over his mug. “I am not cute.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Klaus looks thoughtful as he scans Five up and down. “You’ve got more of that angry, smoldering, sex god look about you.”

“Shut up, Klaus.”

“He’s right,” you hear yourself saying and your cheeks immediately burn when you realize you said it out loud. You notice Five’s face reddens a little as well when he looks at you in surprise.

Klaus is oblivious and he clinks his coffee mug against yours in a toasting gesture. “See? Everyone thinks so. Now, the next step is to share some of that super sexiness with another human being and not just your fist.”

With his face still flushed, Five clenches his jaw even tighter. “Shut. Up. Klaus.”

“I know it’s convenient and doesn’t require you to leave the house, but choking the old chicken doesn’t replace the need for human contact. It’s nice to flog your log once in a while, but you need to branch out. Let someone else take Fivey Junior for a spin. Know what I mean?”

You are certain you are about to witness a murder firsthand as you watch Five pick up his butter knife in a clenched fist, leaning dangerously close to his brother across the table, when the waitress comes back with your food. As she plunks down the plates in front of everyone, Klaus continues to dig his own grave.

“Hey there,” he squints at the waitress’ name tag, “Sandra. What do you think of my brother over here?”

Sandra looks visibly uncomfortable as she glances from Klaus’s beaming face to Five’s murderous one and back again.

“I’m sorry?”

“On a scale of one to ten, with one being you would not bang him if he were the last man on earth, to ten being you want to jump his brittle old bones right here in this diner booth, how would you rate him?”

You sink down in your seat and close your eyes, thinking that maybe if you aren’t actually looking when Five rams that knife through Klaus’s neck, you won’t have to answer too many questions from the cops. You risk opening one eye a slit and you can see Five fuming, nostrils flared and neck veins bulging. The poor waitress is not sure what to do as she stands there awkwardly, so you decide to jump in.

You laugh theatrically. “He’s just kidding! I bet him $20 to say that. I’m sorry…I didn’t think he’d actually do it.”

Sandra relaxes a little and sighs with relief. “Oh, ok. No worries. Enjoy your meal.”

As she walks away, you turn to Klaus with a glare.

“What?” he asks innocently.

“You’re terrible,” you tell him, disapprovingly.

“I’m trying to do the guy a favor and help him get his ex-assassin wiener wet!”

Suddenly, Five’s palm bangs on the table, making the plates and cutlery dance and clatter. You and Klaus both jump in your booth.

“I do not,” seethes Five, “need your help or anyone else’s for that matter.” He relaxes a bit, unclenching his jaw and rolling his shoulders back. His eyes pass over to you as he starts to cut into his waffle. One corner of his mouth curls up as he stabs a piece with his fork. “Fivey Junior is doing just fine, thank you,” he quips before taking a bite and giving you a quick wink.

Your stomach feels warm and fluttery all of a sudden and you let out a snort of laughter. The subject is dropped after that and Klaus eventually moves on to something else that involves his and Five’s apartment. Your mind wanders as you eat your food, staring into space as the two brothers chatter next to you. You didn’t mean for your mind to wander to that, but now that it was brought up, you find it front and center in your brain.

You find yourself wondering exactly what Five’s sexual situation is. You’ve never seen him with a woman, or a man, but he’s certainly good looking enough to get either one. Maybe his surly attitude turns people off? You know all about his unique situation, and so maybe he’s never had the opportunity to be with anyone else in that way. You steal a glance over at him, noticing the way the tendons in his forearms tighten and relax as he gestures while he talks and that warm feeling is back.

I wonder what kind of package he’s working with in those pants of his? He’s not a huge guy, but he sure as hell carries himself like he’s got a giant schlong. I would not be surprised if he was packing some serious equipment in there. I bet it could do some real damage…all that anger has to go somewhere. And I bet he knows how to use it, too. Probably could bang you right through a fucking wall –"

“Think twelve inches is too big?”

You drop your fork onto your plate with a loud clang as Five’s question snaps you out of your perverted daydream. Your face is suddenly very hot.

“What?” you ask in a wide-eyed panic.

Five and Klaus both give you a weird look.

“The shelving unit to put under the bathroom sink, remember I was telling you about them the other day? What do you think about the size?” Klaus explains.

“Oh, right. Uh…I don’t know,” you stammer.

Five turns back to Klaus. “It might be a little tight but I bet I could make it fit. Probably have to shove it in there really good, though.”

At that, you dissolve in a burst of nervous laughter that has the other two looking at you like you’ve lost your mind. You can’t stop laughing, though, and you cover your mouth with your hand while your body shakes uncontrollably.

Five and Klaus exchange confused glances. “Ok…weird,” Klaus says before going back to his waffles.

After a good thirty seconds of hyperventilating, you finally calm down enough and you wipe the tears from your eyes.

Five points a fork at you. “What the hell was that?”

You shake your head, suppressing another round of laughter. “Nothing, I was just thinking of something from earlier. You had to be there.”

“Clearly.”

After a few more minutes of silence, Klaus turns to you. “I know you’ve been worried about this loan and making sure you have everything in order. I’m no good at that kind of thing, but our boy Cinco over here probably is. Maybe he can look things over for you.”

“Oh!” You turn to Five. “Really? You’re good with finances and all that?”

“I’m good at everything, so by default I’m also good at finances,” he answers offhandedly, not looking up from his plate.

“Oh, right, silly me. I forgot, you’re a goddamn genius.”

He looks up and nods without a hint of irony. “Correct. I am.”

You roll your eyes. “Ok, never mind, sorry I asked.”

“Alright, don’t get all huffy. If you want me to look things over, I can do that.”

“Well, if it’s not cutting too much into your time of sucking your own dick, then that would be great.”

Klaus lets out a loud laugh and Five raises one eyebrow as he leans back and drapes his arm over the back of the booth with a smirk. “I think I can pencil you in somewhere.” He picks up his coffee mug, stopping just before he takes a drink. “Incidentally, that would have been another skill I could have used during those solitary years. But, alas, as brilliant as I am, I found I lack the flexibility.”

You bite at the inside of your cheek to stifle your laughter. “There’s a visual I don’t need.”

Klaus nearly chokes on his food. “Holy shit, did you actually try that? I’m not saying I haven’t myself, but I just didn’t think you…well, I guess there were a lot of lonely hours to kill, so like what did you try first? Rolling up in a ball, or –"

You slap a hand over his mouth. “Ok then! I can see this conversation is headed in a very weird direction, so I am just going to excuse myself and head to work now.”

After you gather up your bag, Klaus gets up to let you out of the booth. As you hoist the heavy tote over your shoulder, you address Five. “If you really are serious, I would be glad to have your help.”

“I was serious.”

“Thank you. Would you be available later today around 4? You can come by the café. I’ll even make you some coffee.”

“Sure. See you then.”

You give him a smile and then turn to Klaus. “See you later?”

“Absolutely. I’ll be around.”

Klaus leans down to kiss you, which is nothing out of the ordinary of course, but you feel weird being so affectionate in front of Five and you break the kiss off quicker than normal. You say goodbye to them both and as you go to leave, Klaus gives you a slap on the ass. When you turn to give him a fake scowl, you catch Five looking at you. He’s watching you with that intense look of his that you still have trouble reading the meaning behind. Whatever it is, though, you’re finding that you kind of like it.

Chapter Two: Fivey Junior

As I leave the diner and Klaus goes off to do whatever the hell Klaus does, I stand on the sidewalk outside for a minute or two. My hands in my pants pockets, I lean up against the building and close my eyes, taking a deep breath. What the fuck am I doing?

It’s true I wanted nothing to do with her in the beginning. I’m tired of having to deal with Klaus’s random friends and whatever stray he decides to bring home for a week or two. They usually end up making a mess, drinking all of my good beer, and eating my Grape Nuts cereal. But then they are eventually gone and he moves on to the next one. Men and women. Sometimes both at the same time. It’s exhausting just watching him and I honestly have no idea how he does it. I’m definitely too old for that shit. Meanwhile, though, I have to live with it.

So, when she showed up, I could not have cared less. Just add it to the long line of other free loaders. But then she stuck around longer than usual. She was there most mornings and most nights. I couldn’t turn around without finding another stupid pink hair tie of hers and there was suddenly strawberry scented shampoo in the shower. According to Klaus things were not serious between them, but he liked having her around and apparently she felt the same about him.

Then, that day she grabbed my arm and accused me of being a mean old man, well I may have shifted my opinion of her just slightly. No one ever challenges me and they certainly never grab me like that. Not without a serious death wish, anyway. But when she did it, I don’t know why, but I didn’t mind. I hadn’t spent enough time around her to really study her up close, but once she was in my face, calling me rude, I could see the little speckles in her eyes. And see how pink her lips were and smell that strawberry shampoo. When I shook her hand, it felt soft and warm.

It was like she made it a personal mission of hers to wear me down, and I have to admit it really fucking worked. She’s nice and bubbly and sunshiny all the time, and that should be the most irritating goddamn thing in the world, but for some reason it’s not. She also calls me out on my bullshit, which no one ever does, outside of my family, and so I have to admire her for that.

That morning when she made me coffee for the first time, that sealed the deal. Not because it was damn good coffee, because it was. It was that she genuinely wanted to talk to me. I have no idea why; she wasn’t wrong when she called me rude before. Still, as much as I didn’t mind the company, I wasn’t going to put too much effort in. I figured she’d be gone soon enough.

The days that followed, though, she was still there. And now every morning I meet her in the kitchen and we sit and chat and drink our coffee. And it’s nice. Nice enough that I make sure to get up extra early every day just to have that time with her to myself. She’s intelligent and funny, and almost as much of a sarcastic smart-ass as myself.

She’s beautiful, too. I can’t stop watching her any time she’s around me. Whatever she’s doing, I’m mesmerized and I have to remind myself to stop staring like a creep. I like the way she moves with confidence around me and the way she gestures with her hands when she talks. I like her voice in the morning when it’s still a little raspy from sleep. I try not to look at the rest of her body, because I know she’s technically too young for me and I’m being a gross old man, but fuck, she is sexy. I know why Klaus likes her. She really is fucking delightful.

This morning I really didn’t want to get breakfast. After I saw Klaus stroking her hair like that, the last thing I wanted to do was see more of the two of them shoved in my face. When she berated me for not going, though, I had a hard time saying no again. She seems to be able to do that to me. But then what just happened back there in the diner? Was I flirting ? Did I actually wink at her while talking about my dick? Holy shit, did I just tell her I tried to suck my own dick? Yes. Yes, I did.

I drop my head back on the brick building, hard, and groan. What is wrong with me? I am a grown ass man. I am not some love-struck teenager with a hard on for every girl that looks in my direction. I do not pine for women. And let’s not gloss over the fact that she’s dating Klaus, my actual brother. They might not be serious, but that’s a pretty shitty thing to do. Fuck, I need to get a life.

And now, because Klaus is completely oblivious and also apparently thinks I have too much free time on my hands, I am committed to seeing her again today. Of course I don’t mind helping her and I’m happy to do it, but I’m nervous just thinking about it. Why should I be, though? It’s just us talking over coffee like we have been for several mornings now. The only thing different is that it will be in an outside location. At her coffee shop. Just the two of us, no Klaus. Almost like… I swear to god if you even entertain that idea right now… date.

“God fucking fuck damn it FUCK!” I yell out loud on the street while I kick at the brick wall with my good shoes, scuffing them up in the process.

Several people are looking at me like I’m an insane person and a couple of them are crossing the street to get away from the raving lunatic trying to beat up a building. To avoid the concerned stares, I blink away and reappear a few streets over. I might as well keep walking, maybe that will clear my head and stop with all these ridiculous thoughts.

It’s a nice day, at least, and I end up at a park, taking a seat on a bench as I wallow in my own self-pity. There’s an older man on the bench next to me, reaching into a bag of bread and throwing the crumbs out to the pigeons gathering around his feet. He looks over at me and I give him a nod of approval, thinking that looks like a nice way to pass the time, but have you seen the price of bread these days? I lean forward and put my head in my hands, groaning out loud at myself while my pigeon friend gives me the side eye.

One thing that has started happening since she came along is that I sometimes forget my real age. I was at least able to age myself up by 8 years or so when we arrived in this timeline, thanks to some tricky time-math and a whole lot of luck, but I’m still well older than my body portrays me. It used to shock the hell out of me every time I’d pass by a mirror and see a stranger looking back at me. Then, after a while, I got used to it and I’m not going to complain; trading your broken old body in for a new model definitely has its perks. No more aching bones, tired muscles, or mysterious bruises that seem to appear out of nowhere. And I won’t get started on the new and improved libido, but suffice to say it’s a nice bonus.

Even though I have gotten used to the newer, younger me, I have never felt young mentally. I have remained the same stubborn old man that has resided in my head for decades now. It’s a weird contradiction to have the energy to stay out all night, yet still rather be at home catching up on this season’s Antiques Roadshow. But this is the first time in the last few years that I’ve started to feel more like my younger self. And maybe it’s because I don’t want to feel like a dirty old man, lusting after a woman more than half my age. That is definitely part of it, but the other part is that she just makes me forget. She makes me feel younger.

The hours are dragging by, but I still don’t feel like going home, so I continue to wander around. I come to the conclusion that I am being a selfish, delusional bastard and I just need to cut it out. If I really think about it and start psychoanalyzing myself, there’s a clear reason why I’m having all of these misdirected feelings. It’s obvious that my years of solitude have left me ill equipped when it comes to forming human relationships. In my still-infantile mind, a simple friendship between a man and woman has manifested itself into something more, because it doesn’t know the difference. The chemicals in my brain are confused and don’t know when and how to release themselves at the appropriate times.

I know that dopamine, serotonin, and norepinephrine are produced upon initial attraction to another person, and that oxytocin is released when you presume you are in love. Everyone knows that. So, it’s obvious that I just need to reprogram my brain so that it is not confusing mutual amicability with something more. As usual, if you approach something from a scientific aspect and remove emotions from the equation, problems become much easier to solve. Simple science makes everything so much clearer.

It’s finally close to 4pm when I’m supposed to meet her at the café, so I start making my way over there. I have a new outlook on this meeting now. I am happy to look over her finances and make any suggestions that I see could be helpful. If she asks for my opinion, I’ll give it. Then, I will take my leave, go home, and continue on with my life. No more of this internal longing bullshit.

Then I arrive there and…well, fuck. So much for science.

I am standing outside of the café looking in through the windows and I can see her in there. She’s standing next to one of the tables, talking with another woman who is sitting down with a mug in front of her. I obviously can’t hear her, but I watch as her face breaks into a beautiful smile and she laughs. A laugh I can hear in my mind because I’ve memorized it. She crosses her arms over her chest, which squeezes her breasts together and accentuates her cleavage. When she finishes her conversation and walks back towards the counter at the front, my eyes travel down to her round butt bouncing along in the tight jeans she’s wearing.

“Excuse me.”

I am snapped out of my voyeuristic weirdness by an annoyed voice belonging to a woman behind me. Apparently, I’m blocking the doorway and she would like to enter the building. I open the door for her and she walks past me while I try to get a grip. I follow the woman inside and up to the counter.

When she sees me, she smiles and I automatically shove my hands in my pockets to try and portray an air of casualness.

“Hey there, Fivey,” she says with a big shit-eating grin.

I shake my head and attempt to look mad. “Do not call me that. It’s bad enough Klaus does.”

“It’s so cute, though! It’s like his little pet name for you.”

“I’m not sure why my idiot brother feels the need to make my name even weirder than it already is.”

She snorts out a laugh and then bites her bottom lip, and honestly both of those things are going to send me through the roof, she’s so fucking cute.

“Ok, so no nickname, fair enough. Still willing to help me out?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

She turns away, but not before I see an eyeroll, as she grabs a coffee cup and fills it up, handing it over the counter to me.

“Here you are. One free coffee. As promised.”

“Thanks. I can pay for it though, you don’t really have to give it to me.”

“No please, just take it. I promise I won’t think you are ungentlemanly for it,” she says with a small smile and I can see she’s obviously teasing me about my comment in the diner earlier.

“You make fun of me, but one of the perks of being with an older man is that we know how to take care of our ladies.”

It just came out of my mouth without thinking and I can feel my face getting hot. I’m just praying that she can’t see me blushing. What the hell is going on with me?

“Oh, is that so? I’ll be sure to keep that in mind, then,” she says with a flirty tone.

I have no idea what to say next without sounding like a complete asshole, so I just don’t say anything and instead take a sip of my coffee.

She clears her throat. “Well, let me go grab my stuff and we can sit down at one of the tables.”

She disappears into the back for a minute, returning with her heavy looking tote bag from earlier. I follow her over to a small two-top table and we sit across from one another. As she fishes around in her bag and unloads her laptop and some file folders, I watch as a lock of hair falls in front her face and all I can think about is reaching over and tucking it behind her ear. Obviously, I do not do this.

I look over all of her financial information and everything looks like it’s in order. When I start asking about something I’m reading on her laptop, she gets annoyed that she can’t see the screen well, and so she comes around to my side of the table, sitting directly next to me. I can smell that strawberry shampoo again and our legs brush together. I swallow nervously.

“I think everything looks good here. Your credit scores are high, you have no debts, and you’re asking for a reasonable amount. I don’t really see why they would deny you.”

“Do you think so? I know it’s stupid, but I’m so nervous! The meeting with the bank is tomorrow morning.”

“You’ll be fine.”

“It’s just…if I don’t get this loan I don’t know what I’m going to do. I’ve put so much into this place, I already feel like it’s my own. But I’m not going to work as a coffee shop manager for the rest of my life. I at least want to be a business owner. You know, something I can be proud of.”

I nod. “I think you should be proud of yourself no matter what.”

She scoffs a little. “Ok, thanks Dad,” she says sarcastically.

Just like that, I come crashing down to reality as I’m reminded who I really am. I am not a 20-something year old. I am old enough to be her actual dad. And while that really has no bearing on anything, considering nothing is going to happen between us anyway, it’s still a kick in the nuts. She must see it on my face, because I see her cringe.

“That was a joke. I don’t actually think of you as a dad.”

“I know.” My voice is clipped as I try to hide my embarrassment.

She leans into me and bumps my shoulder with hers in a friendly gesture. “Thank you. For helping me with this.”

“You didn’t need my help. You’ve got this.”

“Well, thank you anyway. And thank you for putting up with me. I know I annoy you by always hanging around your place.”

"It’s true, you are a giant pain in the ass,” I say with a smile. “But, as giant pains in the asses go, you’re not so bad.”

“Aw…thanks Fivey!”

She laughs at my irritated face, which I am only making to keep up the façade. She can call me anything she wants, really. I don’t mind.

I am sitting at home the next afternoon, when she comes bursting through the door of the apartment. She's absolutely bouncing up and down with glee and when she sees Klaus she runs over to him and he picks her up in a big bear hug. She has on what I assume to be her business attire from her bank meeting, and I can’t stop staring. It’s a tight pencil skirt with a short, fitted blazer on top and black high heels. When Klaus lifts her up, her jacket pulls up in the back and I am treated to a very small window of her bare skin just above the waist of her skirt. I’m not sure if I want to look there, or down a little bit lower to wear the material is hugging her hips and ass.

“I got it!” she shrieks and kisses Klaus before he sets her down again.

“That’s great, babe!” he tells her.

Then she turns to me, as I stand there staring like a dope. Before I know it she has her arms wrapped around me and my face is covered by her hair as she hooks her chin over my shoulder. I don’t know what to do, I’m practically paralyzed with shock. I can’t even bring my arms up to hug her back, so they just stay limply at my sides. I take a breath and close my eyes, inhaling the scent of her hair and skin. She lets go of me and steps back and my immediate impulse is to pull her right back into me again. But I don’t. Instead, I just continue doing nothing.

“I cannot thank you enough, Five. You helped me do this.”

“I…I really didn’t do anything.”

“Well, you gave me the confidence I needed and made me feel like I knew what I was doing before I went in there. So, thank you. Really.”

She is smiling so genuinely and sweetly at me and I just can’t believe she is giving me any credit for anything. But I figure if I keep putting off her compliments she’ll get annoyed, so instead, I get weird and flustered.

“Yeah, well, you’re welcome. No problem.” I look from her to Klaus and back again. “Alright, well I’m going to leave you two dimwits to yourselves. See you later.” Then I blink away before either of them can respond.

It’s the next morning and I wake up early, but I don’t get up to meet her for coffee this time. I can’t keep torturing myself like this and pretending we have some sort of connection is just sad and pathetic. The truth is, she is with Klaus right now. Maybe they aren’t technically in a committed relationship, but she’s here in the apartment because of him, not me. And because they supposedly aren’t serious, that also means they will eventually tire of one another and one day she just won’t be here anymore. And it makes me fucking sick to even think about it.

Instead, I start thinking about her running into Klaus’s arms and kissing him yesterday. I hate how much that bothered me. I hate how much I wanted that to be me. I’m lying here in my bed, alone, and all I can think about is lifting her up in my arms, her body pressed to mine as she kisses me. It’s so fucking pathetic and yet, I can’t stop. I replay it over and over in my mind; her smile and her lips and the adorable way she would squeak if I squeezed her to me.

Soon, my pathetic little daydream has evolved into something much dirtier than a hug and kiss. I think about how her tits would feel pressed up against my chest. About how her firm ass would feel under my hands. And how badly I want her legs wrapped around my waist.

I groan sadly and palm my erection through my underwear. Fuck. Rather than sit and jerk off in my bed, I decide I should just head to the shower and kills two birds with one stone. The bathroom is directly across from my bedroom and I make the quick blink over so that I won’t have the humiliating experience of bumping into the person that’s responsible for my boner problem in the first place.

In the shower, my imagination runs wild. I obviously have never seen her naked, but I can certainly conjure up an image in my head that I decide is probably pretty close. I picture her straddling me, my cock deep inside of her, while she fucks me hard and fast. Those tits that I’ve only seen the outlines of through her t-shirts are bouncing up and down in front of my face and, Jesus Chris, it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. My hand is acting as a sad substitute for her tight cunt as I lean my head on my hand against the wall and close my eyes.

I imagine her moaning my name as she throws her head back and works her hips harder and faster on top of me. I can feel her soft flesh as my fingers dig into her sides and push her down; all the while thrusting my own hips up because I can’t get enough. As a final act of delusion, I throw her off of me and flip her over. I pound into her from behind, listening as she cries and sobs from the intensity of it all. I hear her pleading, telling me she’s sorry for ever wanting anyone else but me; that it will only be me from now on. I urge her on as I penetrate her harder, demanding she fucks only me from now on. She is mine and I’ll be goddamned if anyone else is going to touch her from here on out.

I’m only yours, Five…you’re all I want…all I need. I love—

“Hey, Klaus, have you seen my…Oh shit!”

The sound of her voice in real life has me floundering, trying to remember what the fuck is going on, and I turn around just in time to see her horrified face which mirrors mine. Our eyes lock for what has to be a fraction of a second, but feels like an eternity, and I see her glance briefly downward and then back up again.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” she stammers, before quickly closing the shower curtain with a flourish.

I don’t know what to say or do, and there’s no time to do it anyway, as I stand there with my eyes wide and my dick in my hands. I hear the bathroom door slam shut and I’m left alone again. If I have felt shameful or embarrassed about any of my actions in the past, they are nothing compared with what I’m feeling now.

I want to die. I want to dissolve into liquid form and slip down the drain, washing away with all the other filth and disappearing into the sewers. I quickly contemplate my options. I’m a smart guy, I can come up with something. I could blink away and never return to this apartment ever again. Klaus might wonder what happened to me, but eventually he’d get over it. After all, it’s not the first time I’ve vanished without a trace. I could try some serious time travel again, maybe jumping backwards this time. Give the 1800s a try; live out the rest of my days doing something mundane like a blacksmith or a chimney sweep.

Instead, I just stand there, the shame and embarrassment washing over me. The most fucked up thing is that I’m still hard. I saw her face and her shock and it still didn’t dissuade my traitorous hormones. I need to finish and I’m horrified at the thought. Not horrified enough, though, because I start stroking myself again. I keep picturing her in my mind, even though I know she knows what I am doing and maybe that’s part of why I like it.

In some psychotic part of my brain, I like that she saw me jerking off. She doesn’t know that it was her I was thinking of, but I can start to convince myself that she might like it. She might like that I was fucking my hand to images of her naked body on top of mine. She might actually be flattered that I’m thinking of her riding me hard and fast and violently. That I’m imagining her moaning my name and coming around my cock.

A few more seconds of vigorous self-pleasuring and my hand is stilling as I unleash ropes of cum over my stomach and onto the shower floor. It mixes with the water and rushes down the drain as my eyes clench tightly shut and I groan as quietly as I can through gritted teeth. It’s bad enough she saw me in here, she doesn’t need to hear me, too.

After I am milked dry, and my breathing starts to slow again, I let go of my shrinking dick and wash myself off. I feel like the loser of the century. She’s probably out there right now, telling Klaus all about it and laughing. They’re probably discussing how sad I am and how much I really need to get a life. And they’d be right.

Once I’m cleaned off and dressed again, I listen closely from inside my room, trying to determine if she’s still here or not. After a while, I still haven’t heard signs of anyone else, and I figure the coast is clear. I blink out of my room and head towards the kitchen. I need a fucking drink and I don’t even care that it’s still morning. Anything to help erase this horrifying feeling.

In the kitchen, I’m looking through the cupboard where we keep the booze, trying to decide if it’s a vodka or a whiskey kind of morning, when I hear soft foot-steps and a gentle clearing of a throat. Fuck. Can I just get a fucking break once in a while? My spine stiffens and I think of just blinking out of there without even turning around, but then she starts talking to me.

“Hey, so…I am so sorry for busting in on you like that. Klaus had said he was going to take a shower, so I just assumed that was him in there, and I was looking for my slippers that I thought I left in the bathroom, and that was really stupid of me to just assume that…I am really very sorry, I would never have, if I had known it was you, obviously I wouldn’t have, but like I said, I thought it was Klaus, and…ugh…I’m sorry. I hope this isn’t going to make things weird.”

I almost laugh at her run-on sentence of stammering apologies. Almost. Instead, I grab a bottle of vodka and turn around with a glare.

“So, when exactly are you leaving?”

She hesitates. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, when are you getting the fuck out of here? I realize you and Klaus are having fun playing house or whatever the fuck it is you do around here, but this is my apartment, too. In fact, it’s more mine than his, since I pay the bulk of the rent. And I don’t remember asking for a third roommate.”

I see a brief look of hurt cross her face before she is challenging back. “Look, just because I accidentally walked in on you, doesn’t mean you have to be an asshole about it. You don’t have to be embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed? I’m not embarrassed, sweetheart, so don't flatter yourself. And this has nothing to do with that. I’m just wondering when I can look forward to not seeing your face every time I turn around in my own goddamn house!”

She nods, her lips pursed together, and her hands on her hips. “Alright, Five, you win. I thought maybe we were beginning to be friends, but I can see that is not the case. I will do my best to stay out of your way. I’m sorry for any inconveniences I’ve caused you.”

After another few seconds of angry glaring, she turns around and leaves. I take the stopper out of the vodka and tip the entire bottle back, swallowing at least three full gulps before I can’t take the burning in my throat and stomach anymore. I don’t know why I’m like this. I don’t know why I have to be a fucking dick to everyone, especially the people I care about. Well, I guess I should look on the bright side. I won’t have to worry about letting my true feelings out around her. Because now she wants nothing to do with me.

Chapter Three: Crazy Train

It was bad, there was no mistaking it. And it was all your fault; at least the beginning part. You certainly hadn’t meant to walk in on him in the shower. You really had assumed it was Klaus in there. You had been wrong. Very, very wrong. So, yeah, you really fucked that one up.

Things had been going so well, too. You were actually getting along and finding that you really liked spending time with Five. You assumed he liked spending time with you, too, even though he never came right out and said so. Although, with him, you doubted he would ever admit to that. But you knew he did, otherwise he wouldn’t have bothered even speaking to you, let alone hanging out with you.

Even though you’re the one who did the unannounced shower barge-in, you still think he’s overreacting. Sure, you saw him completely naked, but it was only for a couple of seconds and it’s not like you haven’t seen a naked man before. And sure, you are like 99% positive he was banging out some knuckle babies while he was in there, but that part is not your fault. How were you to know there would be some salami slapping going on in there when you opened the curtain?

Now he’s pissed off at you and has gone back to his old, dickish ways. He’s barely acknowledging you anymore and he stopped coming into the kitchen for coffee in the mornings. You understand he’s probably embarrassed, but he should be able to get over it, for fuck’s sake. He’s always claiming he’s the mature one around here, but he sure as hell isn’t acting like it right now.

You definitely think he should be able to move on from that little incident, but you can’t seem to stop thinking about it, either. Although, not for the same reasons. It had only been a couple of seconds if that, but that image has been burned into your brain. And not necessarily in a bad way. In that tiny glimpse that you got, it did not disappoint.

You keep finding yourself staring off, lost in another inappropriate daydream, as you remember exactly what he had looked like. Wet, naked, and clearly aroused, it was enough of a picture to keep you occupied. If men have spank banks, what do you call it for women? Rub hub? Finger vault? Whatever it is, that image is in yours now. And, fuck, it’s a good one.

Klaus has an amazing body, there’s no doubt about that. He’s lithe and toned and has a cinched-in waist that you’re envious of. But when you saw Five’s body…holy shit. He’s a little more solid than Klaus, and his muscles are well-defined but not huge. His chest is smooth and firm, and his abs look like they’re cut from stone, all the way down to the soft line of hair trailing southward to the main event. From the quick peek you had gotten of the goods in his hand, he either somehow used his powers to beef himself up, or that may have been the one thing in his tragic life that he lucked out on. Because, damn. Combine that with a tight ass, the water cascading down his body, and his dark, wet hair pushed off his face, and that is definitely enough to give you some material for the next time you’re double-clicking your mouse.

It's a week after “the incident”, and you have just come back from work and it’s late. You haven’t been over to see Klaus in a few days because you’ve been so busy, but you decide to stop by because you know he’ll still be up. Plus, you’re feeling the need to get some sexual release that isn’t in the form of your hand or vibrator, and you know he’ll be up for that, too.

You don’t see Five anywhere, which is probably a good thing, and you and Klaus hang out in the living room for a while, having a couple of drinks and catching up. When you decide to head to the bedroom, that’s when Five makes his presence known. Loudly.

Mid-make out and partially undressed, the two of you hear the pounding bass and blaring guitar riff of AC/DC’s “Back in Black” coming from Five’s bedroom. He is blasting it at full volume and as much as you like listening to Brian Johnson scream at the top of his lungs, it’s not really setting the mood at the moment. You ignore it for a little while longer, trying to focus on Klaus’s hands working their way down between your legs. When it’s clear you’re not really into it, he stops.

“What’s wrong?”

You huff. “Seriously? Isn’t this annoying you, too?”

Klaus shrugs. “I don’t know, it’s not that bad. I like loud music, and Five has good taste.”

“Well, it’s distracting and you know he’s doing it on purpose. It’s just rude.”

“Just ignore it.”

He pulls you on top of him, and you straddle his waist. But when you lean down to kiss him again, it’s clear you are not going to be able to get your mind in the game; not with the walls shaking from the constant pulse of the mini-rock concert going on down the hall. You let out another frustrated growl.

“I’m going to go say something,” you tell Klaus, pushing yourself off of him.

He props himself up on his elbows. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

You roll your eyes. “Please. What’s he doing to do? I’m not scared of him.”

“Right, no, I know. Me either. But…”

“But, what?”

“You know, he’s just…testy.”

As you’re getting off the bed, you give Klaus an exasperated look. “He’s a big man baby is what he is. And I’m tired of his shit.”

Before Klaus can say anything more, you’re walking out the door and heading to the source of the music. The song has now switched over to “Crazy Train”. You pound on the door to Five’s room, waiting with your arms folded across your chest. That’s when you remember you are not wearing a bra. Or pants. You only have a loose-fitting t-shirt on and some ridiculous underwear with cartoon cats on them because you haven’t done laundry in a while and all your good panties are in the wash. Luckily, the shirt covers up most of your crotch area.

You’re not getting an answer, so you pound the door with your fist again. Mid-pound, the door swings open wide, the blaring music becoming even louder. Five is already in the middle of a rant.

“Klaus, I have told you a thousand fucking times, I do not have your lighter…oh.”

Five stops mid-sentence when he realizes it’s you. He’s standing there shirtless, with only his black pants on, belt unbuckled and hanging open. His hair is disheveled, and he seems to be swaying slightly; holding onto the door for balance. That’s when you notice he has a half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels in his hand. He looks at you for a second, his hooded eyes slowly moving over your body with his mouth partially open before his face changes and he smirks.

He takes another swig of whiskey from the bottle before addressing you. “Something I can help you with, princess?”

You’re stunned into silence for a beat or two, trying to process the fact that you are once again blessed with another glimpse of his body, as well as the fact that he is drunk. You hesitate with your mouth hanging open like a moron, which Five obviously notices because he has that damn arrogant look on his face again. Finally, you snap out of it.

“Is there a reason you’re blaring your music that loud right now?” you demand.

“Yeah, there is. Because it’s my fucking room and I can do what I want in it.”

“God, you are such a dick! I know you’re doing it on purpose just to piss me off.”

Five shakes his head slowly and takes another drink. “Sorry to disappoint you, sweetheart, but not everything is about you. Pissing you off in the process is a definite perk, though.”

You ball your hands up at your side and grit your teeth. “I’m not buying any of your bullshit, Five. I know you’re mad at me, and that’s fine. But you’re acting like a fucking child right now!”

“I think you’re mistaken. I’m not the one who can’t stand to be alone for more than a few hours. I’m not the one that needs constant attention and validation from someone. So who’s the child now, hmm?”

“What are you talking about? I do not.”

He grins. “Oh yeah? Want to tell me what you’re doing here all the time then? Why you’re here when you have a perfectly good apartment of your own to go to? ‘Cause I bet it’s not because of my brother.”

That throws you off a little and you don’t immediately have a comeback. Five snorts derisively. You narrow your eyes.

“Fuck you!” you spit out.

Five raises an eyebrow and lets out a short laugh. “Ohhh…maybe that’s why you’re always here. Well, sorry, honey. Hate to disappoint you, but you’re not my type.”

With your own sarcastic smile, you shoot back. “I know I’m not, honey. From what I’ve seen, I’m guessing you prefer to take matters into your own hands if you know what I’m saying.” That seems to have shut him up and he stands there, clinging to the door frame with his hair hanging in his face. Before you let him think of another comeback you give him a tiny wave and turn around. “I’ll leave you and Mr. Daniels to it, then. Remember, Fivey, don’t go too hard at it. I hear carpal tunnel is a real bitch.”

As you walk away, you hear the door slam behind you. You’re irritated and pissed off. And now you are horny. How the fuck is that possible? Well, there’s a good solution for that, and it’s waiting in the other room for you. You stalk over to Klaus’s room, making sure to leave the door slightly ajar. Klaus is still on the bed on his back and he’s lit up a joint in the process. When he sees you enter, he sits up.

“Oh, good, you’re alive. How did that go?”

“Great,” you say under your breath.

Then you are pulling your shirt over your head and yanking your underwear off. You immediately climb onto the bed and over the top of Klaus, grabbing the joint and tossing it into the ashtray at the side of the bed. He’s shocked when instead of saying anything, you lean down, grabbing his face in both hands and forcefully kissing him. After a moment his hands are on your hips and he’s smiling against your mouth.

“That’s more like it,” he says before you’re devouring his mouth again.

You don’t want to talk and you don’t need any more foreplay. You just want to fuck. Hard and rough, and loud. Luckily, Klaus is already pretty fired up and you can feel him hard underneath you as you straddle him. He still has his briefs on, so you hastily tug them off. If he’s wondering why you’re all of a sudden trying to mount him like a wild dog in heat, he doesn’t say anything. He seems pretty happy when you line yourself up and sink onto his dick, letting it fill you up in one shove. You let out a whine before looking down at him.

“I want to fuck. Hard,” you tell him in between gasping breaths.

“Yeah, baby, fuck me as hard as you want,” he rasps before smacking your ass and giving you a sly smile.

“Don’t talk. Just fuck,” you instruct him.

He obviously doesn’t care that you’re ordering him around, because his hands are on your tits as you start riding him fast and hard. You don’t even work up to it, you’re just pounding yourself onto his cock and you can already feel the beads of sweat starting to form on your skin. You’ve never been this worked up in your life, and you have no idea why. That’s not true; you know exactly why. You just don’t want to admit it, even to yourself.

You squeeze your eyes shut as you work as hard as you can, thrusting your hips back and forth and grunting with the effort. Throwing your head back, you cry out as loudly as you can, practically screaming at the top of your lungs. If the neighbors can hear you, it probably sounds like you’re being murdered to the soundtrack of Ozzy Osbourne right now. You’re making as much noise as possible; crying, wailing, and begging for more. And it’s all on purpose because you want a certain someone to know what he’s missing out on. Klaus is either shocked into submission by your sudden change in demeanor, or he’s in heaven. Either way, he’s not saying anything.

With your eyes closed, and no voice attached to the body you’re penetrating yourself with, you start to imagine what you’ve been trying to push out of your mind. You might hate him at the moment and think he’s a total asshole, but that doesn’t mean you don’t want to climb on top of him like a spider monkey and fuck his brains out.

In your mind, it’s not Klaus anymore, it’s Five. And you want more of him, even though that’s not physically possible. You run your hands down his perfect chest and abdomen, clutching at his thighs as you lean back to get a different angle. He’s watching you with those piercing eyes, looking up at you with that damn smirk of his.

“That’s right baby, fuck Daddy hard.”

Whoa, Daddy? Where the fuck did that come from? Shit, I have some real problems.

There’s no time to dwell on that psychological component because you just can’t get enough. His hands are on your hips and then on your ass, long fingers gripping tightly into you and pushing you even further down onto his cock. You’re still crying out, moaning loudly while you lean down to kiss him. You can feel his hand in your hair and his lips pressed against yours as you continue to rock into him.

“You feel so good, sweetheart. Don’t stop,” he’s saying in that husky voice of his.

“I need more,” you’re pleading and he laughs at you.

“Tell Daddy what you want, darling.”

Fuck, what is happening to me?

You don’t know what’s happening to you, other than you’re so fucking wet, you feel like you’re going to slide right off of Klaus’s dick and onto the floor. You open your eyes, stop your crazy thrusts, and abruptly climb off. Klaus lets out a hiss at the sudden loss of your warm, wet walls clenched around him.

“Fuck me from behind,” you pant, even as you’re already getting into position on your hands and knees.

“Shit,” he’s murmuring under his breath, but he doesn’t argue.

You feel him behind you and the anticipation is driving you crazy. When he slams into you, hips smacking against your ass and his hands pulling you backward hard and fast, you let out a sound that might be close to a sob. Your fists clench the bedsheets and from this angle, you don’t have to keep your eyes closed to slip back into your imaginary sex fantasy.

Five is behind you, plowing you so forcibly that it’s hard to keep yourself steady. It feels so fucking good, and everything you’ve been wanting. You don’t know how he’s weaseled his way into your head like this, but it probably has something to do with that goddamn body of his. Or his impossibly handsome face. Or those hands. Fuck, you want those hands on you and in you, and doing whatever else he pleases with them.

“Tell me,” he demands as he rams into you over and over again. “Tell me what you want. Let me give it to you.”

“Oh god…please…don’t stop fucking me!”

You’re not even sure if you said that out loud or not, but it doesn’t matter. His hand comes around to finger you while he rails you as hard as possible. You’re going to lose it any second now, you can feel it. His fingers are pressing against your clit and he continues talking to you inside your head; telling you everything you are dying to hear.

“You like it when Daddy fucks you like this, don’t you? When I fuck you so hard you can’t think straight?”

“Yes…yes,” you’re whining over and over again.

His hands are working their magic while his impressive cock is driving into your pussy. No one has made your body react like this before and you want to cry from the sheer overload of emotions.

“Let me hear you, sweet girl. You know what you want.”

“I want you! Oh fuck…you’re going to make me come,” you whimper.

“Say it again,” he snarls. “Say it again and scream my name when I make you come.”

“I want you! I want you so fucking badly. Please…keep fucking me…I need…oh god yes! Fii—fff-fuck!”

You catch yourself right at the last second as your orgasm rips through you, creating shocks of pleasure all throughout your body. Your muscles are contracting and your skin is hot and tingling. You are moaning like you are in pain and the sheets underneath you are balled tightly in your fists. There is a layer of sweat over your entire body and your breaths are coming out in ragged gasps. You are vaguely aware of Klaus behind you, gripping your hips while he lets loose with his own climax.

Several seconds pass while neither of you move. After a while, he pulls out and you fall onto your stomach, sprawled out and completely spent.

“Holy. Shit,” Klaus breathes out as he runs a hand down your back. “Where the hell did that come from?”

You laugh softly and push your hair out of your face. “I don’t know. I guess I was just a little wound up.”

“A little wound up? Shit, babe, I’m fairly certain the authorities have been alerted by several people in this building. In which case, I should probably hide some shit.”

You move your tired body and sit up, your legs shaking. You feel bad that you went a little crazy on him, especially considering the entire smutty movie that had been playing in your head the entire time. The one that didn’t involve Klaus in any way. You smile and shrug, then start moving off the bed to gather up your clothes.

“I know, that was a little over the top. Sorry.”

Klaus shakes his head and picks up the joint out of the ashtray you had thrown it in and takes a hit. After exhaling a cloud of smoke into the air, he studies you with creased eyebrows.

“Do not apologize for that. Ever.” Then he pauses before that sly grin starts spreading over his face. “Wait a minute, I know what was different. What probably lit a fire in your kitty cat panties. Old Fivey in there!”

You are in the process of tugging your shirt back over your head and your face isn’t visible to him, which is a damn good thing because it is probably beet red at the moment. You take an extra long time to pull it down over your head and you try and keep your composure.

“That’s ridiculous! I am not hot for Five!”

Klaus lets out a small giggle and shakes his head. “No, no, not like that. I meant I bet it was that crazy sexy hard rock he’s been pumping out of his room. Gets you all pumped up, too, doesn’t it? I don’t blame you though, fucking to loud music with a pounding bassline like that is amazing.”

You let out a sigh of relief and then laugh. “Yeah, you’re right, it does kind of get me going. That must have been it. Not to mention I haven’t been over in a while. I needed to let off some pent-up sexual frustration.”

Klaus bows and it’s hilarious because he’s still naked with a joint in his hand. “Glad to be of service, madam.”

You walk over and pat him on the butt. “Thank you. As always, you know how to deliver.”

“Do you want to stay here tonight?”

It had been your intention to head home for the rest of the night, but now that you’re here and Klaus is offering, you don’t really want to go back to your apartment alone. You like staying here in Klaus’s bed, with his body heat warming you up as you lie next to him, quietly chatting together until you drift off to sleep. Sometimes you’ll be on the very edge of sleep and he’ll whisper something so stupid and off the wall that you can’t help laughing and you’re awake again, with no hope of sleep after that.

But if you stay, that means Five was right about you. You really do come over because you don’t like being alone. You don’t need constant attention from anyone, that part is not true, but you like the companionship. Even if you and Klaus stopped having sex, you’d still want to come over all the time. You like hanging out with him and even on the occasions he’s not there, the apartment feels cozier and more lived in than yours. You have thought about getting a roommate, but all of your current friends are either in serious relationships or prefer to live alone. The thought of trying to advertise for a stranger to move in and then interview people to decide if you want to share your space with them seems exhausting. So, you’d rather just stay here as often as you can.

Even though you just mind-fucked him like crazy, you internally curse Five for reading you so correctly.

“Yeah, I’d like to if that’s ok.”

Klaus pulls on his underwear before flopping back on the bed. “Of course! You’re always welcome here, you know that.”

“Yeah, well, tell that to your brother. He’s been giving me a ration of shit lately about being around here so much,” you grumble as you crawl in next to him.

“I thought you two were getting along.”

“Well, we were, but then…” you almost let slip that you walked in on Five in the shower. You hadn’t told Klaus about that because you already felt bad for embarrassing the guy, you didn’t need to get anyone else involved. “I don’t know, I guess he changed his mind or something. Because now he definitely is not a fan of mine.”

Klaus frowns. “Hmm..well, that sucks. We should be the three amigos!”

“Pretty sure he does not want to be mi amigo at the moment.”

“Alright, I’ll talk to him tomorrow. Tell him to stop being such a grouch.”

“It’s ok, you don’t have to do that,” you protest.

“No, no, I want to. It’s important to me that he can get along with you. Five may be a scary, unhinged assassin who once threatened to kill me by describing in excruciating detail all of the steps he was going to take to do it. Like, he literally wrote them out on a yellow legal pad with graphics next to each one and handed it to me. I don’t remember the full list, but it involved a step ladder, some Elmer’s glue, and a toaster oven. Anyway, he may be scary like that, but he’s not all bad. He just needs to lighten up a little. Don’t worry, I’ll fix it.”

You laugh. “What did you do to piss him off that time?”

Klaus rolls his eyes and sighs. “Oh, I don’t know. It wasn’t a big deal. I may have accidentally eaten a large number of mushrooms and decided to strip naked and crawl into bed with him in the middle of the night.”

“I mean, that’s pretty funny but it doesn’t sound that bad.”

“Well, no, that part isn’t. It was when I started violently humping him from behind and licking his neck that he kind of got a little uppity about it.”

You start laughing harder. “You humped him and licked his neck?!”

“Yeah. I don’t really remember a lot of it, but apparently, I had him in a pretty good death grip while calling him “Alberto” and demanding to speak with his manager. I guess he was able to blink away just in time before I unloaded my high fructose porn syrup all over his superhero jammies.”

You are laughing so hard at that image that tears are rolling down your cheeks. “Ok, I understand why he wanted to kill you, now. You kind of had it coming.”

Klaus waves a hand flippantly in the air. “Now you sound just like him.”

The next morning, you get up before Klaus, just like always. As you make your way to the kitchen, you can hear rattling around in there and you pause. You think about heading back to the bedroom just to avoid any confrontation, but then you change your mind. You’re not going to hide from him. As you walk in, there is Five, busy making coffee. He looks like shit and you smile a little to yourself. Good, serves you right.

“’ Morning, sunshine!” you exclaim cheerily, just to piss him off. “You’re up early. I figured you’d be sleeping the day away after your little one-man frat party last night.”

He turns to you with a look that you know is intended to intimidate, but is not quite working considering he looks like death warmed over. His eyes are bloodshot, his hair is a tangled mess, and he’s still wearing the rumpled pants you had seen him in last night. And of course, he has not bothered to put on a shirt again. Jesus, will this guy put some clothes on and give me a fucking break?

“Oh, good, it’s you. I was worried maybe you had decided to fuck off and leave me alone. But, nope, here you are again.”

You give a snort and sit down at the kitchen table. You’re not really sure why you’re still there, but you don’t want him to think he’s scared you off so you stand your ground. Instead, you say nothing but start humming Pink’s “U + Ur Hand” under your breath. You know Five hears you because you can see his shoulders tense and his hands flex. You smile to yourself.

When he turns to you again, his arms crossed over his bare chest and his hair in his face, he leans against the counter and eyes you up with a malicious grin. You really wish he weren’t so damn good-looking because it’s very hard to keep up your little show when all you are really thinking about is jumping on top of him.

“That was a nice little performance you gave last night, by the way. I had assumed you were the type to just lie there and have someone else do all the work, but good to know my brother is at least getting something out of it.”

You straighten up in your seat. “You’re welcome. I figured the least I could do is give you some material to work with.”

Five nods with a smirk, not taking the bait. He uncrosses his arms and grabs onto the edge of the countertop behind him, leaning back casually. You are immediately drawn to his sculpted chest and abs and your eyes drift over the many faded scars scattered over his body.

“I could say the same to you, love,” he says.

He throws you off your game with that statement. You’re mostly sure he’s just trying to be an asshole and get under your skin, but what if he does know? What if you yelled something out while you were imagining him fucking you so hard your teeth rattled in your head? When you were calling him Daddy and riding him like he was Sea Biscuit? You feel caught and your face must betray you because suddenly he’s not looking so smug anymore.

You are both staring at one another, not saying a word, but the passive-aggressive tension in the air has changed to something else. The look between you seems to last forever, and you can feel the warmth spreading up your neck and onto your face. And maybe a little between your legs, as well. Just then, the coffee that Five had been making is done and the machine beeps loudly, startling you both.

He looks away first and pulls down a mug from the cabinet. You are surprised to see him grab a second one. He fills them both and then sets one down on the table, sliding it over to you with a push so that it sloshes over the side.

“Thanks,” you mumble, as you pick it up.

“Sure,” he responds grudgingly, and you can tell it’s killing him to be even moderately polite right now.

After a minute or so of neither of you talking, it is starting to get awkward. Someone needs to say something or leave. Instead, you just sip your hot coffee and pretend the tabletop is incredibly interesting. You decide to chance it and you clear your throat, but you don’t look up.

“Look, I’m sorry, ok?” you say quietly.

It takes a few seconds, but he finally responds. “Yeah, I’m sorry, too.”

You nod and glance up, meeting his eyes as he watches you with that all-encompassing intensity of his. His stare bores right through you and once again you feel frozen in time and for a minute you think he’s somehow doing that, but in reality, it’s just your mind playing tricks on you. He just has that hold over you somehow and you pray that he can’t see it. You watch as he looks away, closes his eyes, and pushes his hair back with one hand, giving you a good look at the tight muscles in his arms. Fuck. You cross your legs and take a sip of your coffee to try and hide the fact that you are on the verge of passing out right now.

At that exact moment, the weird energy in the room is broken by Klaus’s appearance. He floats in, wearing some sort of ugly satin robe that barely covers anything, but somehow he manages to pull off the look. He stops in the doorway and looks from you to Five and back again. Then he claps his hands and smiles.

“Yay! So, you guys are buddies again? Is that what I’m seeing here?”

Five rolls his eyes and sighs. You shrug your shoulders. “I guess so. Tolerating each other again, anyway,” you tell him.

Five gives a tight-lipped smile and holds his coffee mug up towards you in a toasting gesture and you do the same with yours. Neither of you say anything else on the subject.

“Well, let me tell you, that is a relief,” Klaus exhales. “I was not really looking forward to having to put the hammer down on you, Fivey.”

Five raises his eyebrows at Klaus. “Is that right? And how exactly were you planning on doing that?”

“By giving you a very stern warning, of course,” Klaus says with a smile, shaking his finger at Five. Then he walks over to get his own coffee. He looks Five up and down and then gives his arm a squeeze. “Damn, Cinco, you been working out or what? Looking pretty fine there, I must say.”

Five frowns and swats his hand away. “You’re so weird.”

You giggle into your mug and Five looks at you with a crooked smile. Then he snatches the full coffee pot out of Klaus’s hand. “As much as I’d love to spend the rest of my day in the company of you two intellectuals, I must take my leave. See you later.”

Klaus lets out a cry of protest as Five disappears in a flash, taking the coffee with him, and leaving his brother with an empty mug.

You try to hide your laughter as Klaus looks at you in disbelief.

“Well, that was rude,” he says in a huff.

With a shrug, you get up and pour some of your coffee into his cup. “Yeah, but I’ve come to realize that rude is Five’s love language.”

Klaus pouts. “He must love us a lot, then.”

With a smile, you think to yourself how much that statement is probably true. If Five doesn’t care about you, he’s not going to waste his time and energy to speak to you, even if it is in the form of an insult. It makes you feel good inside to know that he probably really does like you, at least a little bit. If not, he just wouldn’t bother with you at all; he’d avoid you like the plague. And you like knowing that. You like it a lot, actually.

Once again, you find your mind drifting off. And once again, it’s filled with images and scenarios starring one very sexy, teleporting ex-assassin.

Chapter Four: Love In The Time Of Cholera

“Jesus, what’s the matter with you?”

Five walks into the apartment to find you huddled on the couch, wrapped in a blanket and shivering.

“Nothing. It’s just a cold I think,” you answer between chattering teeth.

Five strides over to the couch and leans in to peer down at you, squinting slightly. He stands up straight and crosses his arms over his chest, flicking the hair out of his eyes with a superior shake of his head.

“I don’t think that’s just a cold. You look like shit.”

“Gosh, thanks, Five. Charming, as always,” you snap back. Or at least, it would have been a snap had you not just started coughing violently, your entire body shaking with the effort.

Five’s eyebrows furrow together. “Have you taken your temperature?”

You shrug. “No.”

With a heavy sigh, Five leaves the room, returning a minute later with a thermometer in hand. He presses the button and when it beeps, he holds it out for you. You eye it and him suspiciously.

Five jabs it towards you again when you don’t reach for it. “Take it.”

“How do I know you or Klaus haven’t used that to take your temperature in other ways besides orally?”

Five rolls his eyes. “I keep this in my room, away from Klaus for just that reason, and I can assure you it has never been used in my or anyone else’s ass.”

After another sigh from Five and another dubious look at the thermometer, you relent and take it from him. You place it under your tongue and you both wait in silence for what seems to take forever before you hear the beep again. Before you can take it out, Five reaches down and removes it from your mouth for you, frowning at the digital display.

“104.3. You’re burning up.”

You shiver again, wrapping the blanket around you tighter. “Great.”

Five is quiet for a moment, and then he glances around the room. “Where’s Klaus?”

You shrug again, and it reminds you how much your muscles are aching. “I don’t know. I came here right from work since it was closer than my place and I was feeling pretty crappy. I texted him to let him know I’d be here, but so far I haven’t seen him. He didn’t answer my text, either.”

You figure Five is probably more than annoyed with having you here without Klaus, and spreading your germs around his apartment in the process. With a guilty look, you start to stand up.

“Sorry, I’ll go. I’ve rested a bit, so I should be ok to walk home.”

As you stand, you are overwhelmed by a bout of dizziness and you sway on your feet, your vision blurring. Five reaches out to catch you around your waist and you let him take most of your weight. When your vision returns and you can stand, you look up at him to find he actually looks concerned rather than his usual expression of deep irritation. His facial features are softer and his hair is in his face again. His eyes scan over your face, lingering on your lips before meeting your eyes. Your legs are bearing your full weight now, but he still has his arms around you.

You clear your throat. “Or…I can get a cab.”

“Don’t be stupid,” he says, although it’s missing the usual snark he reserves for you. “You obviously are too sick to go anywhere.”

Five lets you go and you both stand there awkwardly, avoiding eye contact.

“So…you want me to stay here?” you ask weakly.

“Well, I wouldn’t say I want you to stay here, but I’m also not sending you off on your own while you’re half dead.” He manages a small smile that appears genuine. “You need someone to look after you.”

You try to hide your shock but your eyebrows raise. “And you’re going to look after me?”

He looks away briefly before sighing dramatically again. “Until Klaus comes back. Then you’re his problem.”

A slight smile twitches at the corner of your mouth. You can’t believe Mr. Crab Ass is being this soft. Soft for him, anyway. And you can’t believe he’s willing to take care of you. You’re trying to picture him as a caregiver, though, and it’s like your brain isn’t computing.

“Ok,” you say softly. “Thank you.”

“Come on,” he says, holding out his hand. “I need to get you into bed.”

Despite the pounding headache in your skull, you start giggling as Five realizes what he said, and his face flushes.

“That’s not…you know what I mean,” he stammers. “You can lie down in Klaus’s bed.”

You nod, still smiling and take his hand. It’s warm and dry against your clammy one, but he doesn’t seem to care. Even though your head feels like it’s filled with mashed potatoes, you still feel a little zing through your body at the sensation of his touch. You know he’s strong and he can kill a man with these same hands if he needed to, but he holds yours gently.

He gets you situated in Klaus’s bed, with an extra blanket thrown over the comforter to keep you warm against your chills. He brings you medicine to bring down the fever, and a glass of water to keep next to the bed. He places a cold compress on your forehead and dims the lights so you can rest, slipping quietly out of the room after he makes sure you’re comfortable.

As he leaves, you notice he hesitates near the door and takes a look back at you before he goes. You’re not quite sure how to interpret the look, mostly because you’ve never seen him like that before. He looks…sad? Concerned? You’re not sure, but whatever the meaning behind it has your heart racing just a little faster.

Even with Five’s continued care, your fever remains and you somehow manage to feel even shittier as the day goes on. Your entire body aches, right down to your bones, and you’re so exhausted you can hardly keep your eyes open. You’re sweaty and shivering and every time you cough it feels like fire in your lungs. You might even be hallucinating, because each time you wake up and open your eyes, Five is there. He usually has some amused look on his face, like you just said something interesting or funny, but you’re pretty sure you’ve only been sleeping.

At one point you wake and he’s not in the chair across from the bed like he has been, but you can hear him out in the hall. He’s talking to someone and he does not sound happy. He sounds like you’re used to him sounding. All frustration and rage.

“What do you mean you’re not coming home?” he spits out. There’s a pause. “And like I told you , she’s sick.” Pause. “No, dickhead, like really sick! You need to get your ass back here and act like a fucking adult—” Pause. “Because she’s your girlfriend!” he yells, and you can practically hear his jaw clenching from the other room.

There’s another long pause and you can hear him pacing back and forth. He laughs sarcastically at whatever has been said to him on the other end.

“Yeah, great idea…you stay there and enjoy yourself. I’ll take care of her. Just like I take care of everything else around here.”

He must have hung up because you hear him muttering angrily to himself. “Fucking, self-absorbed asshole! I’m not sure why I expected anything different. Fuck!”

After a minute or two, Five comes back into the room. He’s obviously still upset but is trying to cover it up. Seeing that you’re awake, he comes to stand next to the bed, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“So, I got ahold of Klaus finally,” he tells you.

“Yeah, I figured that part out.” You smile weakly up at him. “And it also sounds like he’s not coming home?”

Five rubs the back of his neck. “It appears not. Not for a couple of days, anyway. Seems like he went with a random group of people he met at a club last night and he somehow ended up in Toronto, the fucking jackass. Without a valid passport! Only Klaus would somehow figure out how to cross international borders on charm alone. Either that, or he blew the border guard.” His voice softens and he looks down at you. “I’m sorry he’s not here.”

“That’s ok. I think I’d rather have you here taking care of me, anyway. Klaus is usually much more interested in taking care of Klaus.”

Five gives a short laugh and shakes his head. “What the hell do you two have in common, anyway?”

“Well…” you smile knowingly, even though just that motion of moving your cheek muscles hurts.

“Ok, no, please don’t finish that sentence. I’m sorry I asked.”

Throughout the next day and night, Five continues to care for you. You’re not really sure why he’s so invested in making sure you’re ok, but you never question him. Instead, you let him fix your covers, and take your temperature, and bring you cold drinks. He makes you soup and watches to make sure you eat all of it. It’s absolutely hilarious to see him like a mother hen, fussing over you and scolding you when you don’t take his directions.

Even though you’re not well enough to leave yet, you are starting to feel a little better. Enough that you’re able to get up and take a hot shower. While you’re in there, Five takes the opportunity to change the sheets on the bed and he helps you back in when you’re clean and feeling more like a human again. Once you are all set up in bed again, you are able to sit up and stay awake, which is more than you’ve been able to do over the past 24 hours. Five stands there at the side of the bed awkwardly.

“I’m really sorry for all of this,” you tell him. “Thank you for taking care of me, though. I had no idea you made such a good nurse.”

Five scoffs, but there’s a small smile there. “Yeah, well…you shouldn’t be. I’m good at everything, remember? Also, I’m not that heartless.”

“I never thought you were heartless. Maybe a little bitchy, but never heartless,” you say with a smile.

“Well, you’re about the only one, so thanks I guess. Although, I’m not sure being described as bitchy is any better.”

You start to laugh, but it turns into a racking cough, and Five looks at you with concern.

“All right, enough talking. You should really go back to sleep.”

You shake your head as you wipe at your watery eyes. “I’m sick of sleeping. Entertain me.”

“Entertain you? Jesus, here I am busting my ass to make you better and now I have to entertain you, too?”

He’s trying to sound aggravated, but he’s not quite pulling it off.

“But I’m borrreddd,” you whine dramatically.

“Christ, fine, I will find something to entertain you, as long as you stop fucking whining like that.”

You smile with satisfaction since you got your way and Five tries his best to look unamused.

“I have lots of books; do you want to read?”

You nod. “What do you have?”

“Fuck, I don’t know, I’m not going to list off an entire library of titles for you. What do you like to read?”

After thinking for a minute, you answer, “I doubt you have any, but I like classic romances.”

Five smiles slowly. “Well, then you’re in luck because I happen to also like classic romances.”

You almost start coughing again with surprise. “What? You? Number Five ‘Hard-Ass’ Hargreeves loves romance novels?”

“I am a very romantic person, I can’t believe you’ve never noticed,” he says with a hand on his chest.

“Oh my god, well now I’ve heard everything. Alright, then, Mr. Romance; what do you have for me to read?”

He leaves for a few minutes, returning with a paperback novel in his hand. He holds it up for you to see the cover.

“Love In The Time of Cholera?” you read.

“It’s fitting, don’t you think?” he answers with a smirk.

“I don’t think I have cholera.”

“Well, maybe not but you have something just as disgusting. The plague, maybe. But this was the only book I have that includes both a deadly disease and romance.”

“I haven’t read that one, but wasn’t it written in the 1980s or something? Is that considered a classic already?”

“Look, do you want to read the fucking book or not?”

You nod with a smile. “Yes, please.”

Five steps closer to the bed and holds out the book for you to take it, but you don’t move. Instead, you look up at him with the saddest expression you can manage and poke out your bottom lip.

“I don’t know if my eyes will be able to read such small print in my weakened state. Will you read it to me?” You bat your eyelashes dramatically.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Five sighs. “Read to you? Are you a child?”

“Please? Come on, what else are you doing? Nothing.”

After another huff and a sigh that isn’t very convincing, Five throws his hands up. “Fine! I’ll read you the stupid book. But you better sit there and be quiet and not interrupt.”

You nod obediently and then pat the empty side of the bed next to you. You were halfway kidding, but after a look at the bed and then back to the chair and then back to the bed again, Five walks around to the other side and climbs in, propping himself up beside you. If his heart is pounding just a little faster from the proximity like yours is, he hides it well.

“Will you do different voices for the characters?” you giggle.

“Shut up. Also, you have a booger hanging out of your nose and it’s making me sick. Get a tissue,” he grumbles.

After blowing your nose and using the hand sanitizer that Five holds out to you, you settle into the covers. But not before you take your index finger and poke him right in his cheek dimple. “I’m ready now.”

He bats your hand away with a scowl as you snort from trying to hold in a laugh with your stuffed-up nose.

“You are such an idiot,” he tells you with a shake of his head, trying to hide a smile.

Five turns to the book and starts reading while you lie next to him. Pretty soon the sound of his voice has you closing your eyes and you sink deeper into the covers. When you hear him stop, you open your eyes and peer up at him.

“Why did you stop?” you ask blearily.

“You were sleeping.”

You close your eyes again and sigh. “Keep reading, even if I fall asleep. I like listening to your voice. It’s nice.”

Even though you can’t see him, you think you hear a breathy little laugh. “Ok,” he says softly, before continuing on with the story.

You doze off again, and when you wake up the sun is lower in the sky and the room is dim. Your eyes adjust to the darkness and you see Five is still there. The book is closed and lying to the side and he is asleep on his back next to you. Then you see that your arm is flung over his stomach and you freeze. He’s still sleeping soundly, so you slowly take your hand back, but not before making sure you get a good feel of his hard abs under your palm. You look at his face and see that it’s softer, his forehead uncreased, with his dark lashes fanned over the tops of his cheeks. His lips are parted just slightly while he breathes deeply and for a very brief moment, you think about running your fingers over them to see if they’re as soft as they look. Instead, you clear your throat and he stirs.

When Five looks over at you, you smile shyly at him. “I think we both fell asleep.”

He runs a hand down his face and looks around him. “Yeah, I guess we did.” He turns back to you. “How are you feeling?”

You nod. “Better, actually, thank you. And thank you for reading to me. I missed some of it, but I liked what I heard of it so far. And I get the gist that this guy in the book is going to start whoring his way around the world because of his unrequited love?”

Five laughs. “Pretty much, yes.”

“Guys are disgusting no matter what time period they live in, I guess.”

Five raises one eyebrow at you. “You do realize whose bed you are currently sleeping in, right? Probably the most disgusting one of them all.”

You frown. “Klaus isn’t that disgusting. He’s just…free.”

Five gives a snort of derision. “Is that what you call fucking your way through several different timelines, including, but not limited to, an entire congregation of his own cult members?”

You feel your face turning red from embarrassment at being one of the many in Klaus’s little trail of conquests, but you already knew that and hadn’t cared before. So, why is it bothering you now? Why do you care what Five thinks? Instead, you change the subject.

“So, you asked me what I have in common with Klaus, but what about you? Why do you live together if he seems to be a constant source of irritation for you?”

Five is quiet for a minute and he sits up in the bed and for a second you think he’s going to leave. But he just leans against the headboard and looks back down at you with a sad smile.

“You’re right, he drives me fucking crazy and I would most definitely prefer to live on my own.”

“Then why don’t you?”

“Because Klaus is a hazard to himself.”

“What do you mean?”

“Even when we were kids, he was constantly getting into trouble. Whether he was getting bullied by some dickheads on the subway or being used by my father in some horrible way, he was always getting hurt. Both physically and mentally. He’s just too damn trusting. When I was there, I would stand up for him. If I saw him getting pushed around or harassed in some way, then you could bet that whoever was responsible was getting their ass kicked. At home, there wasn’t much I could do about that, but he would come to my room when he was scared or upset and I’d let him hang out as long as he wanted, just to let him talk and calm down. When I left, among a million other things that haunted me during those years, I felt terrible that I had left Klaus unprotected.”

You stare up him, and you can see the hurt on his face as he’s remembering all of this.

“After I came back, I couldn’t believe how far he’d fallen. I know you can’t blame yourself for someone else’s choices, but I kept thinking maybe he would have been ok if I hadn’t jumped. Then, almost right off the bat, he gets kidnapped and tortured by people that were looking for me and then accidentally fucks off to Vietnam to earn himself some more trauma and heartache. Instead of protecting him, I was causing him more pain and suffering and I’d hardly been back in his life for more than a couple of days. So, after a few more screw-ups and a grand old time in the 1960s, here we are again. I know what he’s been through and it’s a lot.”

“So, you decided to live with him to watch out for him? To try and protect him again?”

Five nods. “I know Klaus isn’t stupid. And he’s a survivalist, just like me, so I’m not saying he can’t get along without me. I just feel that I owe him something, at least. And the only thing I can really offer him these days is to try and look out for him. Maybe stop him from making mistakes that will end up causing him more harm in the end. Like taking too many drugs, sleeping with dangerous people, or getting stranded in Canada with strangers. So, as you can see, I’m doing a real bang-up job.”

You smile up at him. “I don’t think that’s your fault.”

Five frowns. “Well, anyway, there you have it. He drives me fucking crazy and makes me want to put his head through a wall most days, but if I’m here then at least I can keep an eye on him.”

“So, am I one of these dangerous people you want to keep him from sleeping with?” you ask just to be a smart-ass and maybe a little flirty.

He gives you a look you don’t know how to interpret. “You are most definitely dangerous, but not in the way you might think.”

You’re not sure how to answer that as you feel your cheeks blush. “You’re a good big brother.”

“Not really.”

You rest your hand on top of Five’s, giving it a light squeeze and he looks down at it. “No, I mean it, Five. You’re a really good brother to him.” And you do mean it.

He swallows hard and looks you in the eyes, holding your gaze for a long time. He gently strokes his thumb against the side of your hand, and it’s the most contact you’ve ever gotten from him. It’s only an instant before he’s taking his back again.

He shakes his head and his voice is almost a whisper when he speaks. “You don’t understand. I’m really not.”

After another awkward moment, he clears his throat and moves off the bed. He pauses in the doorway and turns back to you.

“I’ll bring you something to eat, ok?”

You nod. “Thank you.”

Then he’s gone and you’re left lying there wondering what the hell just happened between you two.

************************************

I thought I had finally gotten my shit together. After that little setback when she caught me beating my meat in the shower and I turned into a giant asshole, we had been back on friendly terms. And I had told myself to stop being a delusional creep and fantasizing about things that weren’t ever going to happen. So far, I have been doing pretty well. Then she got sick.

Normally, the only reason I would care whether or not someone was sick would be so that I could stay away from them. I have dealt with more than my fair share of horrible illnesses and injuries in my life and managed to come out of them mostly unscathed and with no one else’s help. So it’s hard for me to feel too much sympathy for folks with access to advanced medical care and simple things like aspirin or Neosporin. I lost track of how many times I would have killed just for some Imodium and a bottle of Gatorade after eating some not-so-great canned food.

As soon as I saw her all miserable and shivering from a fever like that, though, my heart couldn’t stand it. All I wanted to do was make her feel better and I didn’t care if I was exposed to her germs or not. I would have taken all of them if it meant she’d feel well again. That’s how much she’s gotten to me.

My first instinct was to bring her into my bed, but I quickly changed my mind. I didn’t want it to seem like I was hinting at anything or being a weirdo, so I opted for the better choice of Klaus’s bed. Even though the thought of her being in there, no matter the purpose, leaves me with a gnawing feeling in my stomach. But that’s ok, the only thing that mattered was that she was cared for.

Those first 24 hours were interesting, to say the least. I’m still not quite sure what to think about it. She was feverish and exhausted, and she started hallucinating and talking in her sleep. At first, I didn’t think much of it. It’s not abnormal for people with high fevers to experience these things. But when I didn’t leave her side except to get her more medicine or anything else she needed, she must have realized I was there even if she wasn’t totally in her right mind. She started talking to me, but it didn’t make sense. At least, I told myself it didn’t make sense. Because I don’t want to acknowledge the very unrealistic notion that it may have been her true feelings.

“It’s you,” she had said weakly, her eyes barely open as I sat in the chair across from her.

“Yeah, it’s me. Did you need something?”

She shook her head very slowly and her eyes closed again. “No…I mean…it’s you, Five. It’s always you.”

I didn’t how to take that or how to respond, so I didn’t say anything and she drifted back into a sound sleep.

It had turned dark outside and I hadn’t bothered to turn on a light in the room, but I was still sitting there and I had almost fallen asleep myself. Then I heard her speak again.

“Five?”

I got up and went to her side, and even in the dark, I could tell that she wasn’t completely awake or lucid. She had a sheen of sweat on her forehead from the fever and I placed my hand on her head, hoping the coolness of my skin would feel good. She sighed and smiled.

“You’re hot,” I told her, obviously meaning the temperature of her forehead.

She had laughed dreamily, her eyes still closed. “So are you.”

I took my hand away and smiled down at her, deciding to go ahead and tease her even though I knew she wasn’t with it. “Oh yeah? I think you’re just saying that so I’ll continue waiting on you hand and foot.”

“Nooo…like soooo hot. Can you not be so hot all the time? It’s not fair. With no shirt…"

It was like talking to a drunk person, which I have lots of experience in, from both points of view, and I laughed again. “Ok. Go back to sleep.”

She had turned over on her side and curled up, facing away from me, but she was still mumbling out loud.

“Ok…I’ll do whatever you say, Daddy,” she giggled.

After that, she was back into a deep sleep and I just stood there, frozen in place and trying not to read too much into that. The logical explanation was that she was dreaming about her father in a completely innocent way. However, the other, less plausible one would be that she meant it in a totally different and very naughty way. A way that if I thought about it too much was going to cause me some major problems in the crotch department of my pants. And she had said I was hot, too. Which again, I chocked up to her fever, but still. I didn’t mind hearing it.

The third such incident had happened in the middle of the night. I was asleep and had been for some time. She seemed to be resting peacefully, but I still didn’t want to leave the room just in case she needed something if she woke up. I was still in the chair when I was awoken by her nonsensical ramblings again.

“Why don’t you?”

I rubbed my eyes and got up, standing next to her to make sure she was ok and was going to fall back asleep again. In the dark, she must have sensed me, because she reached out and took my hand and pulled me towards her. She hardly had any strength, so I didn’t have to move, but I did anyway and sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Why don’t you?” she asked again, her voice thick with sleep and her hand still latched onto mine.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t like me,” she answered softly.

I didn’t really know if she was talking to me or not inside of her head, but I decided to answer her. “I do like you.”

“Good,” she murmured, and then she was quiet again. I was about to get up and go back to my chair when she started talking again. “I like it when you call me that, you know.”

I frowned. I had no idea what she was talking about. “Call you what?”

“Sweetheart,” she whispered and in the dark I could make out a smile on her face.

My heart just about jumped out of my chest. But then again, maybe she hadn’t even meant that for me. Maybe she was talking about Klaus, or someone else. Maybe it was all a weird dream and it didn’t mean anything rational at all.

I couldn’t resist, though. I took my hand from hers and touched the side of her face, running my thumb over her warm cheek. “Ok, sweetheart,” I said softly and my voice cracked. It was the first time I had said that without being a sarcastic jerk.

She smiled again and then burrowed deeper into the covers with a sigh. “Five…”

I wanted to die right there on the spot. I hated that I was letting myself create this little fantasy world for the two of us. All of these things she was saying meant nothing. She was delusional and not in her normal mindset. These things were most likely complete gibberish and had no bearing on anything. She was probably saying my name because I was right there and she had heard my voice. Or, more likely, she was telling me off in some dream she was having where I was being my usual pleasant self.

But that tiny little possibility for any of that to be true…that was all I could think about. And damn, it was driving me crazy.

When she had fallen asleep while I was reading to her, I kept going for a while because she had said she liked hearing my voice. But when I was sure she was deep enough asleep that she wouldn’t notice, I stopped. I should have left then, but I didn’t. Instead, I watched her sleeping for a while; noticing the rise and fall of her chest and the way her lips were slightly parted as she breathed in a steady rhythm. I wanted to pull her next to me and hold her. I wanted to stroke her hair and kiss her forehead. I didn’t do those things, but I did stay where I was. I laid there next to her, comfortable and warm and I didn’t want that moment to end. I loved it.

Now it’s two days later and my stupid ass brother still hasn’t shown up. Not that I’m really complaining, but I’m sure she wishes he were here. I meant it when I said I know I’m not a good brother to him. I’ve let him down many times in the past and now I’m lusting after his “non-girlfriend.” Pretty shitty if you ask me. Still, he should be here. Leave it to Klaus to up and abandon her when she needs him the most. Although, she had said she was happy I was here for her.

She is feeling better, at least, and is up and around more. We have developed a kind of routine and have fallen into a comfortable companionship. I know she likes chicken and rice soup and not chicken and noodle. She prefers Sprite over ginger ale and her favorite tea is chamomile. She loves the movie Grease and hates any and all sports movies. And of course, she loves classic romance novels.

I’ve continued reading the book to her, even though she’s well enough to continue reading it herself. She said she likes listening to me and I like doing anything that makes her happy. She still can’t get over the fact that the main character in the book ends up banging 622 women during his decades-long fuck-a-thon.

We are nearing the end of the book today and I’m sitting on the couch with my feet on the coffee table (I know…hypocrisy at its finest). She is sitting next to me when she scoots over and lays her head on my shoulder.

“What’s this?” I ask, trying to act annoyed, when of course I couldn’t be happier.

“I want to see the pages while you read. Make sure you’re not skipping anything to get to the end faster.”

I roll my eyes. “I promise I am not skipping anything. What do you take me for?”

“A cynical bastard?”

She looks up at me with a grin and I do my best to look irritated. “Do you want to finish this damn book or not?”

“Yes, darling.”

It’s heavy with sarcasm, obviously, but I still get a little rush when I hear her say it. I want so badly to lean my cheek against her head, feeling the softness of her hair against my skin. Instead, I sigh heavily and open the book.

“Hey, wait, so we’re almost to the end now and Florentino has been whoring around for a long time. I forget, how long has it been exactly?”

“51 years, 9 months, and 4 days.”

“Damn,” she says with a chuckle. “That’s a really fucking long time to wait around. Even if you are banging a bunch of people along the way. I mean think about it. That’s like…5 decades just…putting your life on pause. Can you imagine? God, I’d go insane.”

I’m suddenly very uncomfortable since that statement hit a little too close to home. I shift in my seat and the movement makes her lift her head and look up at me. I don’t meet her eyes, though.

“Oh, shit,” she gasps, covering her mouth with her hand. “I am so sorry, Five. I didn’t mean—"

“It’s fine.”

“No. No, I just forgot and that was a really insensitive thing for me to say, and…god dammit, I always do stupid shit like this. I’m always just blurting things out without thinking about what I’m saying.”

“Really. It’s ok,” I assure her.

She lets out a frustrated exhale and she’s starting to mess with her fingernails like she always does when she gets nervous.

“Hey,” I say, putting my hand on her leg. “You don’t have to feel bad. I’m not offended. And it’s true, you would go insane. I can vouch for that.”

She looks down at my hand on her leg and I quickly take it back. When she looks at me, her eyebrows are drawn together in concern.

“Can I ask you something, then?”

“Sure.”

“So, I know all about your ‘accident’ or whatever you want to call it. Klaus told me everything and it’s just so awful, Five. The fact that you are here and functioning and not locked up in a looney bin somewhere is nothing short of amazing.”

I let out a short laugh. “Thanks, I guess? Although some days I feel like I should be locked up. But that usually just has to do with having to deal with my moronic family.”

She doesn’t laugh at my joke to deflect, and instead, she continues looking at my face with not exactly pity, but something close to it. It makes me uneasy.

“Ok, well, anyway, there’s something I’ve wanted to know. Have you…have you ever been in a relationship with anyone? Like romantically?”

Well, if I felt uneasy before it’s nothing to how I’m feeling now. I would like to sink down in between these couch cushions and smother myself to death. How am I supposed to answer that without sounding like a fucking lunatic? Then again, if anyone would understand, it’s probably her.

I clear my throat and rub the back of my neck. “That’s kind of a loaded question.”

“Is it?”

"Well, the short answer is yes. I was in a serious relationship for a very long time. Decades, in fact. But that ended a few years back.”

“Oh…I thought you were alone that whole time. So you had a partner?”

“Yes, you could say that. Dolores was more than my partner, though. She was all of the things I needed when I wanted to give up. She was my rationality, my calm in a storm, my teacher and my friend. She taught me love, patience, and perseverance above all odds. She was my entire world and the main reason I’m still standing here today. She was my everything and the love of my life.” I pause and I look her directly in the eyes. “And she was made up entirely of my imagination and a department store mannequin. But she was very real to me.”

She blinks a few times and I can tell she is trying to process all of that. And I can’t blame her. What is the appropriate response to that? If you’re a dick, you laugh. If you’re some sappy, bleeding heart with no control over your emotions, you cry. But if you are a normal, sympathetic person with actual brains, then it gets complicated.

“Five, I…I don’t know what to say. That’s…”

“Sad? Disturbing? The most fucked up thing you’ve ever heard?”

“Beautiful.”

I look at her in disbelief. “What?”

“If she was all of those things to you, then that means you are all of those things. You are the reason you persevered and survived all those years. Because you made sure of it in the only way you knew how. And Dolores was the vessel that helped you compartmentalize everything, letting you deal with the horrors of your reality while still maintaining all of the good parts that are inside of you. It’s brilliant, actually. And hopelessly romantic.”

“No one has ever interpreted it in that way before. Although to be honest, I haven’t really told many people. In fact, come to think of it, outside of my siblings, you are the only one I’ve told.”

“Wow, really? Thank you.”

She sounds sincere and I know she is not judging me. I am very protective of Dolores and if she had said something flippant or thoughtless, I would have defended my lady love. But she didn’t. She understands. Which just makes me want her more.

“You’re welcome.”

“Ok, so other than Dolores, have there been other women in your life?”

I sigh and run a hand through my hair. “Yes, there have been. Not many, but a few. And none of them were relationships to speak of.”

She smiles. “Ah, I see. A slew of one-night stands to make up for lost time?”

I chuckle and shake my head. “More like a select few professional dancers.”

She makes a cringey face. “Yikes. I guess that can be fun in its own way, though. Bringing home some hot strippers maybe isn’t a bad way to spend a Friday night.”

“Oh, no, I never brought them home. Or even left the club, actually.” Her raised eyebrows have me laughing. “It is in my personal experience that the adage of ‘there’s no sex in the champagne room’ is not entirely true.”

She draws in a dramatic gasp with a big grin on her face. Then she slaps me on the arm. “Five Hargreeves, you are a giant slut! I can’t believe you give Klaus shit all the time when you’re going around banging strippers in the back of the clubs. What did they do, lure you back there with lap dances? How much does it cost to bone a stripper these days?”

“I never said I paid for it,” I say with a smirk.

“Whoa whoa whoa…hold on. Let me see if I’m understanding this correctly. You go to a strip club, probably buy a couple of drinks, maybe get a couple of dances, and they just magically take you into the champagne room and let you rail them?”

I shrug and drape my arms across the back of the couch. “That’s pretty close, yeah.”

Her mouth is hanging open and I know I’m acting like an arrogant prick, but I don’t care. Her reaction is too funny. It’s also all true.

“Holy shit.” She shakes her head with a smile. “Well, I hope you know that is not the normal experience for most guys. And the fact that it sounds like this has happened more than once leads me to believe you must be doing something extremely right in that room because girls like to talk.”

“Is that right?” I say with one eyebrow raised.

She nods. “I’m not entirely surprised. After I was able to get a quick preview of what you’re working with down there, I have no doubt you left these ladies with some major organ damage and a big smile on their faces.”

Now my mouth is hanging open in shock, but before I can stammer out some words, she starts laughing. It’s immediately contagious and I join her, and I haven’t laughed that hard in a very long time. It feels good and it almost erases the crushing feeling inside when I think about how I never want this time with her to end. Almost.

Chapter Five: Bizarre Love Triangle

The next day you are back to feeling normal again, and you should be going. You’ve missed a few days of work and you really need to get back there. But you don’t; you stay. You like the little infirmary Five has created for you. You feel safe and cared for, and if you leave that feeling will be gone.

Klaus decides to return sometime during the afternoon. He breezes in, smelling of cigarettes and unwashed clothes, with a smile on his face and seemingly not a care in the world. You are annoyed, sure, but you secretly don’t even care that he’s been gone. And it’s just so hard to stay mad at him because it’s Klaus. He is who he is and it’s no surprise, really.

Five, however, finds nothing amusing about it. You stand there and watch as he loses his ever-loving shit.

Barely two minutes after Klaus is in the door, Five is appearing in front of him in an angry swirl of light, already leaning in with bared teeth and clenched fists.

“Where the fuck have you been?” he growls in Klaus’s face.

Klaus, always immune to his brother’s rage, raises a hand to his head and closes his eyes. “Shhh…Fivey…please, can you keep the screaming to a dull roar? My skull feels like it’s breaking in two.”

“It is going to be breaking in two when I’m through with you. What the fuck is wrong with you? Don’t you have any decency? She has been on death’s door for the past two days and you don’t bother to come home or even call to check in?”

Five is gesturing to you while you stand off to the side, not sure whether you should be jumping in or not. You don’t really appreciate being talked about like you aren’t there, but you’ve never seen Five this worked up before and it’s intimidating, to say the least.

Klaus sighs dramatically and looks over to you. “I’m sorry. You’re ok now, though, right?”

“Uh, yeah, I am…”

“See? She’s ok, so no harm done,” he tells Five.

“Yeah, she is ok, thanks to me. That’s not even the point, though! You need to stop thinking about only yourself all the time. Grow the fuck up and act like an adult.” Five is still yelling loudly and Klaus is flinching with each word thrown in his face. “God, you’re so fucking useless sometimes!”

“Hey!” you interject. “Five, stop. I know you’re mad but you don’t have to be mean.”

He whips his head in your direction and the ire is still there. “Mean? I’m being mean? You do realize he just up and abandoned you, right?”

You stand up straight and raise your chin. “I think abandoned is a strong word. And I’m an adult, too, you know. I appreciate everything you did for me, but I think I could have survived without either of you.”

Five is silent, but his eyes don’t leave yours. He’s still angry, but there’s something else there. Hurt.

“Fine,” he concedes and his shoulders slump a little. “Forget I even said anything. You two dumbasses really do deserve each other.”

After that, he’s gone. Disappeared again before your eyes and you know he’s not in the apartment anymore. You doubt you’ll see him back here again anytime soon. You fucked things up again, and you don’t know how to fix it this time. You look at Klaus.

“Why didn’t you come back? It would have been the decent thing to do. I thought you cared a little more about me than that.”

Klaus massages his temples with his hands and lets out a loud exhale. “I know, I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be gone that long, and it was a little tricky to get back into the country without documentation. Especially when the guards on duty that day are all alpha males with no sense of humor.” He looks at you with concern. “I really am sorry.”

“Thank you.”

“You seem back to normal, now, so that’s good. I’m glad at least Five was here.��

You nod. “Me too.” You look towards the door, even though that’s not the way he left. “I don’t think he’s going to want to have anything to do with me again, though.”

Klaus is already on his way to the bathroom and he waves a hand in the air dismissively. “Nah, don’t worry about him. He’ll get over it. He always does. Come on, want to join me in the shower?”

“No, thanks,” you answer with a pinched smile. You may not be that angry with Klaus, but you are pretty annoyed. And certainly not in the mood for anything more than chit-chat right now.

It’s later that night, and why the hell you’re still here you have no idea. You should have left hours ago. You just can’t help but want to see Five again and to maybe try and smooth things over. And you’re worried about him, too. Obviously, he can take care of himself, but that doesn’t mean he won’t do something stupid just because he’s pissed off and not thinking clearly. So, while Klaus is in his room sleeping off his three-day bender, you lie down on the couch. You can’t sleep though so you’re staring up at the ceiling in the dark when you hear a familiar whooshing noise and brief flash of blue light coming from the kitchen. You get up and enter the kitchen quietly.

Five stops short when he sees you, his eyes wide for half a second before he corrects himself and he adopts his signature glare. You watch him as he walks to the sink, grabs a glass out of the cabinet, and fills it with water from the tap. You notice how he swayed a little when he walked and the way his eyes were momentarily unfocused. He turns his back to you as he takes a long drink of water.

“What are you still doing here?” he asks after he swallows.

“Are you drunk?” you ask, ignoring his question.

He gives a short and haughty noise, half snort, half laugh, and he swallows down another gulp of water.

“Hardly,” he answers, still turned away from you. He is deliberately not looking at you, probably waiting for you to give up and leave first.

“Yes, you are,” you insist.

Five turns, spinning abruptly around and facing you head-on. He slams the empty water glass on the counter behind him.

“And what if I was? What the fuck does it matter to you?” he barks, his face hard and angry.

You aren’t going to let him win this one. You aren’t going to let him chase you out of there.

“Where were you anyway?”

He puts his hands in his pockets and leans back against the counter. His hair is disheveled and hanging in his eyes again. His shirt, although slightly wrinkled, is unbuttoned just far enough that you can make out the hard line of his collarbone and the outline of his pecs. He is all tense joints and sinew, skin tight and smooth over rippling muscles; everything coiled tight. He notices you staring at his body and he smirks.

“Aw, did you miss me tending to your every need, princess? Not getting enough attention from my dear brother in there?” He nods his head toward Klaus’s room.

You cross your arms defensively over your chest, staring him down. “Don’t you dare fucking talk to me like that, Five. We are past that.”

He gives another sarcastic huff and turns his back on you again. “Go back to your boyfriend. Leave me alone.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you answer flatly, although that’s hardly relevant.

Five doesn’t say anything in response at first and you think you’ve won this weird little game you two are playing. Then you see his shoulders slump and his head hangs down.

“Then what are you doing with him?” he asks quietly.

You pause, blinking into the dim light of the kitchen, watching the muscles in his back flex through his shirt as he presses his palms harder into the countertop.

“What do you mean?” you ask with a tremble in your voice.

Five turns around to face you, the softness you had heard for just a moment gone again. He takes a menacing step toward you and you instinctively back up.

“I mean, what are you doing with Klaus? Why are you with him?”

Five continues to slowly make his way into your personal space. His eyes are dark and he’s breathing hard with anger or drunkenness, or both. You back up, but you find yourself trapped against the wall. Five pauses for a moment, like he’s unsure he wants to follow through on whatever he’s thinking. But then he’s taking another step toward you, and another, until he’s so close you can see the tiny flecks of brown in his otherwise clear green eyes.

You take a shaking breath in and you can smell the whiskey on his breath, and the leathery scent of the soap you recognize from the shower. You can hear the squeak of his leather dress shoe on the floor and the way the fabric of his pants brushes softly between his legs as he moves in.

When you don’t answer, he asks again, his voice low and demanding. “Why are you with him?”

You swallow hard and try to look away, but his stare is too intense. “I…I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do. Tell me.”

He’s leaning in, trapping you between his forearms as they are pressed against the wall next to your head, his lips just inches from yours as he waits for your answer. You have a feeling he’s not going anywhere until he hears what he wants to hear.

Your voice is barely a whisper when it comes out. “Because I don’t like being alone.”

One half of Five’s mouth curls up in a self-satisfied smirk. When he closes the already small gap between you and him, he rests his hand on your hip as your thigh grazes against his groin. You can feel the firm bulge starting to form in his perfectly fitted pants as you hold your breath.

“Fuck,” he murmurs painfully.

Before you can react, his mouth is on yours, hungry and rushed, like he’s trying to get as much of you as he can before he changes his mind again. But he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he presses further into you, flattening you against the wall, his hands clutching firmly to your hips. The weight of his entire body is pressed upon you, your breasts pushed against his chest and your groin flush with his. You take in a gulp of air between open-mouth kisses, half-resisting and half-responding to his touch.

If he senses any hesitation from you, he ignores it. Instead, he moans pitifully in his throat, raising both of his hands to bunch your hair into his fists. The feeling of his fingers against your scalp is like a spark; igniting the rest of your body so that you find yourself grabbing the back of his shirt and pushing your lower body into him.

His hands release from your hair, only to trail down the sides of your face and onto your neck. Hot and insistent, you feel his fingers tracing over the tendons on either side, across your jugular, and dipping into the hollow curve above your collarbone. His mouth leaves yours and follows the same route of his fingers; kissing softly but urgently in a linear pattern.

You are still grasping handfuls of his shirt on his back and then his chest. “Five.”

You don’t know what the meaning behind you saying his name is. You don’t want him to stop, but you can’t think clearly so it’s the only thing that comes out.

“It’s not fair,” he growls into your skin, moving to the other side of your neck. “Not fucking fair.”

A whine escapes your throat and you find yourself arching into him. Into his kisses and into his body. You want more and you don’t care that he’s drunk or that he all but forced himself on you. You’re not going to push him away and you stop kidding yourself that you were even thinking about it in the first place. It feels good. He feels good. And it feels right.

His kisses abruptly stop and when you open your eyes, you’re met with his intense gaze again. His mouth is parted as he labors for breath, chest heaving against yours. His hands are on your neck again. This time, they are encircling it, his palms warm against your skin and his thumbs on your chin, holding you in place and forcing you to look at him.

Five’s eyes are searching your face, taking in every detail.

“I want you. And I don’t fucking care about Klaus or anyone else. I want you,” he states quietly and breathlessly. “But if you want me to stop, tell me and I will. I’ll leave and you can go back to him.”

You frown, your eyebrows drawing together, as you take in the sharp angles of his face and the evident pain and longing that is written all over it. You could end this right now. He would step back, remove his hands from your body, and let you go. But that’s not what you want.

You shake your head slowly. “No. Don’t leave.”

“Fuck,” he breathes out again as if he’s disappointed in your answer.

There’s no time to contemplate that, however, because you are being hoisted up in one boost, Five’s strength more than enough to lift you easily off the ground. On instinct, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and your legs around his waist. You can feel how hard he is as you pass over his groin and he gives a little grunt at the feeling.

It’s all a delirious haze as you cling to him, kissing his face and neck and winding your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. All while he is carrying you down the short hallway to his bedroom, bumping into the doorjamb on the way in, and closing the door behind him with a kick of his foot.

He walks over to the bed, dropping you down a bit ungracefully. Not that you care. You’re too busy trying desperately to shed your clothes as he does the same, the room filling with the sound of your loud and ragged breathing.

Since you were only wearing a t-shirt and shorts, you’re finished before he is and you lie back, watching as he fumbles with his belt buckle and shoves his pants hurriedly down. His shirt is off already, and you take in the hardness of his chest and the way his shoulders and biceps flex and relax with each movement. The tight boxer briefs he is wearing are damp where his hard cock has been leaking into them.

It’s all happening so fast, and he’s on top of you in a matter of seconds, pinning you down to the mattress, both of you naked and clawing at one another. He is grabbing and kneading your ass with one hand while the other one is on your breast, squeezing almost to the point of pain. But it feels so fucking good, and you’re just as forceful; digging your fingers into his hip and raking your nails roughly down the smooth skin of his back.

“Five,” you whine, unable to say anything else as he bites and sucks at your chest.

He’s groaning and gasping against your skin, like he’s drowning; like he can’t get enough. His mouth is everywhere. Your tits, your stomach, your neck.

He lets out a frustrated growl, even as he takes everything he wants and you let him.

“I hate it…” he mumbles, words cut off as he drags a tongue across your hardened nipple.

“What?” you ask after inhaling a sharp breath, your fist tangled in his dark hair.

Five doesn’t stop, even as he answers you, moving further down your body.

“I hate that he kisses you. I hate that he touches you,” he moans, his lips grazing over you and the words hot against your skin.

He pushes your legs apart and you pull in a deep breath, your hips rising off the bed in response. His mouth is on your inner thigh, pressed against it while his words vibrate over and through you.

“I hate that he makes you wet, and knows how you taste.”

Five is on his knees, face buried between your legs as he licks at your pussy, tongue lapping up the continual flow of your arousal and spreading it up through your aching folds. He’s holding you by your waist with both hands, steadying you as you thrust up into him. His mouth is hot and wet as it engulfs you in messy kisses and licks, the tip of his tongue darting over your clit as he drinks in your wetness and swallows it down.

The accuracy is tortuous, as he hits his target each time, leaving you writhing desperately beneath him, biting your bottom lip as you try in vain to quiet the noises he’s eliciting from you.

“Fi-ive…,”you whine pathetically before inhaling another loud breath.

His mouth is off of you again, leaving you soaking wet and desperate for more. Five is back to kissing up your body, going back over the trail he left on the way down. When he gets to your mouth, he kisses you hard and deep. You can taste your own sex on his tongue as it slips past your lips and inside, colliding with yours. As he bites and pulls at your lips with his teeth, you can feel his cock pressing against the inside of your thigh as he moves his hips rhythmically against you.

“I hate that he fucks you. I hate that he makes you come.” He pauses as he lets out another quiet moan. “And I hate that I hate it.”

He has pulled away from you, green eyes boring into you as he looks into yours. He hasn’t bothered with asking if anything he is doing is ok, probably taking your moans and involuntary hip jerks as proof that you were ok with everything. But now, he seems to be waiting for something. An acknowledgment of what he said. A sign that you want what he wants.

“Don’t you know?” you ask him, panting, as you look back at him. “When I close my eyes, it’s always you.”

One corner of his mouth is turned up, more than satisfied with your answer, as he is repositioning himself and shoving inside of you. You cry out, not even trying to hold it back, as your head falls backward and you clutch onto his shoulders. Five’s own loud groans are punctuated by each slow thrust of his hips as he holds himself over you on his forearms. Your eyes meet again, his face hovering over yours, dark hair hanging in messy strands off his forehead.

“Fuuck…I’ve wanted this for so long,” he breathes out, not breaking eye contact.

He’s slamming into you, his more than sizeable dick filling you up with each push. And it’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before. The way his body fits into yours. The way he looks at you. The intensity mixed with need and want. This is how fucking should feel. And you want to feel this way forever.

He has lowered himself so that your faces are closer; lips just an inch apart. He hasn’t changed his pace, though, still penetrating you over and over again in the perfect rhythm. Your hands run over the tight muscles of his rounded shoulders, nails raking red lines down his back as you lift your legs higher and angle your hips up.

“Look at me,” he demands and you open your eyes immediately in response. “I want you all to myself. I want you to fuck me. Scream for me. Come for me.”

There was no question posed, but you find yourself nodding along, agreeing with each word he says; arching into him and pulling him closer.

It’s not long before the tension is building, the heat spreading out through your groin until it’s no longer bearable. He’s pounding into you with precision and just enough force that you know you’ll be sore tomorrow. But that thought is far back in your mind, and you focus on his loud breathing against your skin, the feral look in his eyes, the way his body moves so perfectly in time with yours.

You come for him, just like he wanted, and you’re loud and desperate; thrashing underneath him, clutching tightly to his sweat-dampened skin. When you moan his name, long and pleading, his thrusts stop as his hips slam into you one more time, his cock unloading inside of you as he shudders and buries his face into the crook of your neck; a painful-sounding growl mixing with his stuttering breath.

Five stays like this, breathing in the scent of your skin and hair, for a minute or two before he lifts himself off of you, lying next to you on his back. He’s still breathing hard, but you can already see the wheels turning in his head; the regret and shame washing over him. You don’t want him to feel like that, though. There’s no reason for him to feel that way.

“Five?” you ask hesitantly.

He turns his head toward you, slowly, hands resting on his chest. You’re not really sure what to say. You want to tell him it’s ok. That you were just as much of a part in this as he is. But you know that will probably make him angry.

“Do you want…” your voice breaks as you look at him, realizing this passionate moment is most likely coming to an end. “Never mind. I can go.”

You sit up and start to maneuver off the bed when you feel his hand on top of yours. When you look back, his face is different. It’s more resolved now, like he’s figured something out.

“No,” he says softly. “Stay.”

“But…” You glance at the closed door of his bedroom, and he knows what you’re thinking because he’s probably thinking the same thing. Klaus. There’s also zero chance that Klaus hadn’t heard your loud cries of his brother’s name and the bed slamming against the wall.

“I don’t care. Stay.” When you look back at him, he smiles just a little. “Please,” he adds.

You return the smile, pushing the covers down so that you can both get underneath. He draws you to him with an arm around your middle and you nestle into his chest. He’s warm and his arm around you is strong, and it feels good.

Neither of you say anything more as you give in to your tiredness, drifting off while Five trails soft lines up and down your arms with his fingers.

Sometime during the night, you feel Five behind you, pressing himself against you and pulling you closer. He’s hard again and lightly kissing your shoulder, running his hand down your arm and then your thigh. You smile sleepily, not even opening your eyes, and push back into him, wordlessly letting him know you want him again.

You’re both caught in that hazy delirium of not being fully awake and Five thrusts into you slowly, rubbing his cheek softly against your hair. It’s passionate and pure, and you might have thought it was a dream if the words he was saying to you weren’t so real.

“I want this,” he whispers into the darkness. “I want this with you. Not just tonight, every night. Please.”

You sigh contentedly, pressing your backside into him as he fucks you perfectly.

“I want this, too. It’s always you, Five,” you answer, reaching your arm back to cradle his head in your hand.

He’s groaning low and desperately, his forehead pressed into your neck.

“I’ll take care of you like you deserve,” he’s pleading as he thrusts harder into you and his hand moves between your legs, urging you on. “Whatever you need, I’ll give to you. I’ll make you happy.”

You whine quietly, already feeling the need for release. “I know you will…I know…” You gasp when he gives one forceful thrust, fingers pressing hard against your clit. “You’re all I need.”

“Please,” he’s murmuring against your neck. “Please let me. I’m all yours, sweetheart. Please,” he keeps repeating, right before you’re both shuddering and moaning as everything builds and you reach your apices together.

The post-orgasmic high you are feeling is mixing with your emotions and your exhaustion, and you blink into the darkness of the room, feeling Five pull out; the hot cum he just pumped into you seeping out and sticking between your bodies. It doesn’t matter, though. He still has you in his arms as you both sink further into the mattress again.

He doesn’t say anything more, and neither do you. You feel him nuzzle into your neck and your hair, his lips pressed against you and you sigh happily. Who knows what the morning will bring, but that is still several hours away, and no matter what, you belong to each other now. You interlace your fingers with his and settle into the perfect curve of his body as you fall back into a peaceful sleep.

When you wake up, the sunlight is streaming through the window and across Five’s bed, and you are alone. But it doesn’t take long to figure out what woke you up in the first place. Loud voices are arguing, sounding like they are coming from the kitchen, and growing louder by the second.

“You are a massive asshole!”

“Oh, get over yourself, Klaus! You’re only mad because it’s a blow to your fragile ego.”

Klaus gives a sarcastic snort. “Uh, no, actually, I’m mad because my own BROTHER fucked my GIRLFRIEND!”

“She’s not your girlfriend! You’ve made that perfectly clear.”

“What-fucking-ever! It’s still fucked up. It’s still a betrayal!”

You hear Five laugh dangerously and you can picture his stance; body strung tight as a bow, jaw set in defiance, fists clenched.

“You don’t even care about her, Klaus. Admit it.”

There’s a pause as neither one of them say anything. You listen carefully for Klaus’s answer, if he gives one. Finally, he speaks. It’s quiet, but you can just make it out.

“Maybe not. Not in the way that I should, anyway.” He pauses. “But here’s the thing, Five. I cared about you. You know, you’re always reminding me to be careful all the time and not to be so trusting of everyone. Well, you were right; I trusted you and look how that turned out. You’re not my brother. Go fuck yourself.”

You hear footsteps and then the door slams. There’s silence again.

You don’t know what to do, so you stay put. You’re still naked, though, so you scramble off the bed and gather up your underwear and the t-shirt you were wearing. As you yank it over your head, Five opens the door and walks in. He’s carrying two mugs of hot coffee and he hands one silently over to you.

You say thank you as you accept the mug, but your smile of appreciation goes unreturned as Five crosses back the way he came and stands in the open doorway. His face is impassive. Uncaring. The opposite of the passion you saw in his eyes just hours earlier. You frown over your coffee as you take a small sip.

“I heard you and Klaus and I’m so sorry. I know this is hard, but…” you start to say, but Five cuts you off.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. Look, I have a lot of things to do today, though, so you should probably get going.”

You flinch at his abruptness and you can’t even pretend to hide your hurt. You see a faint flicker of some emotion in his eyes before it’s gone again. Blank.

“What do you mean? I thought we…” your voice trails off, unable to finish the sentence as the words catch in your throat. You swallow and try again. “You said…”

Five jumps in again before you can finish. “I was drunk, I didn’t know what I was saying,” he replies, his voice flat and unmoving. “I’m sorry if I misled you. Obviously, this was a mistake.”

He says nothing more; just turns around and walks out, leaving you sitting on his bed, coffee cup in hand, and a sick feeling in your stomach. Your chest is tight and it’s hard to breathe. You can’t believe what’s happening right now. How he’s treating you. Your heart is breaking into a million pieces and it’s humiliating.

After you gather your things, pull on your clothes, and pack your bag with the few toiletries and other things you’ve been leaving there, you head out to the living room. Five is there, dressed in his normal black slacks and white button-down, sitting in one of the chairs. He has a newspaper in his lap and he doesn’t look up when you enter. You stand there, staring, until he reluctantly meets your eyes.

You are trying desperately to hold back tears, and for the most part you are doing a good job. But they are there, threatening to spill over at any second. You try to steady your voice.

“I get it if this is hard for you, Five. It’s hard for me, too. I didn’t want to come between you and your brother. But pretending that this was a mistake? That what you said last night didn’t mean anything? That’s bullshit and you know it!”

He cocks his head to the side and crosses one leg over another as he gives you a condescending smirk.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? Never heard of a one-night stand?” he sneers.

“Fuck you,” you spit out, your voice hitching in your throat.

You turn away and head for the door before he can see you cry. On your way out, you stop and turn back. He’s still sitting there, looking after you, the same non-expression on his face.

“One last thing before I go. You did this, Five, not me. You pushed me away. So, if you wake up one day and you’re all alone…you only have yourself to blame. Because this could have been something really good.”

You turn and close the door behind you, not even bothering to look back again.

Chapter Six: My Own Worst Enemy

I’ve dealt with a lot of regret in my life. Times when I’ve wanted to kick my own ass and beat the living shit out of me. A couple of times I’ve been successful in rewinding time by a few minutes to fix my mistakes. Other times, not so much. But none of those times, barring that little snafu when I ended up living in a barren wasteland for 45 years, have come close to how much I hate myself right now.

After she slams the door shut, I blink myself over there. My hand is on the doorknob, mid-turn, when I stop myself again. I can’t think straight and I don’t even know what is right or what is wrong anymore. All I know is that all of this is my fault. If I had just kept to myself and kept my dick in my pants, I wouldn’t be standing here like this now. I rest my forehead against the door and squeeze my eyes shut. I briefly think about going back and changing this. I only need a few minutes, not long. I can tell her I’m sorry and that I don’t want her to leave. I can tell her I did mean everything I said before. I can try and fix it. But I don’t.

I slam my fist against the door and kick it at the same time. “FUCK!”

That’s all there is to say in this situation because I may have just lost the two most important people in my life. All because of my stupid, thoughtless actions. I feel bad about Klaus, but I know he’ll eventually get over it. He might not forgive me, but I know he’ll be ok. But her…that look in her eyes when I told her I didn’t mean any of it…I don’t think I can fix that. I wouldn’t even know how, because I don’t think I’ve ever hurt someone that badly and that viciously before. If I have, I hadn’t cared until now.

I had panicked. I thought I had made peace with everything and then Klaus had said what he did to me. You’re not my brother. And he was right. Not only am I not even his biological brother, but I have been on my high horse pretending I can protect him, when really all I do is make shit worse. What kind of a brother, adopted or not, does that?

The thing is, if I had just gone about this in a completely different way, it probably would have turned out just fine. I could have gone to him, told him I had feelings for her and that I thought maybe she felt the same way, and apologize. Maybe he would have been a little mad, but in all reality, he probably would have been fine with it. It’s the way that it happened that really threw a monkey wrench into the whole thing.

I know he wasn’t all that into her, and vice versa. But to take the same girl that your brother has been sleeping with on a regular basis and fuck her (loudly), right down the hall from him without so much as a heads-up-pre-coitus email…that’s probably some sort of code violation right there. Granted, I’m sometimes oblivious to social norms and things other people might describe as “tact”, but I do know this is a pretty blatant faux pas.

I shouldn’t have gotten so pissed. I shouldn’t have gone off to drink my feelings away. I shouldn’t have stayed in the kitchen talking to her. I shouldn’t have done a lot of things.

I was mad at Klaus for not stepping up when he should have, but I was mostly just mad at him for having her in the first place. And then when she came to his defense…that was too much. I had to get out of there before I said or did something even worse. So, I did what I usually do when things get too scrambled in my brain; I went to find some booze.

The bar I chose was the first one I had come across while I was storming down the sidewalk, and I found an empty barstool where I could sit and wallow in self-pity. The place was a total dive, but it was dark and crowded and the bartender had no issue serving me as many shots of whiskey that I asked for. I think I was on my fourth when I noticed the girl on the other end of the bar eye-fucking me. She was cute, with dark brown hair and a minuscule top that didn’t do much to hide her impressive rack. In my drunken state, I found myself staring back at her, which she took as an invitation.

I can hold my liquor, but after five shots, even I’m going to get a little sloppy. Everything was a blur. It was dark, loud, and my senses were all screwed up. She was standing between my legs, leaning in to talk to me, and I could smell her perfume which I didn’t particularly like. I don’t even know what she was saying to me. Her hand was on my thigh and she was purposefully pressing her tits against me as she talked close to my ear. I could feel her hand moving higher up my leg, and she was saying something about leaving together and going back to her place. It sounded like a good idea, but something was off.

I felt her lips brush against my cheek and that’s when I had a moment of clarity. Her voice was all wrong, her perfume was giving me a headache, and if I was paying attention to what she had been saying, I’m sure I would have found her boring. More importantly, she wasn’t her. And if it wasn’t her, I didn’t really give a shit. Grabbing the woman’s wrist with my hand, she stopped her kiss and pulled back, confused.

“Stop,” I said, gradually snapping out of the trance I had been in. When she questioned me, obviously irritated that I would be turning her advances down, I let go of her hand, pushing it off of me. “Go shove your tits in someone else’s face. I’m not interested.”

With a glare, she turned around, but not before she flipped me off and called me an asshole. That’s when I figured I should get out of there before I drank enough that I wouldn’t be able to find my way out. I also figured it would be safe to go home because she would have left the apartment hours before that. Wrong again.

When I saw her there, I just couldn’t keep it up anymore. I couldn’t see the point. And if she had slapped me across the face, or asked me to stop, I would have. I would have been humiliated, but I would have stopped. But she didn’t want me to.

God, I can still feel her body against mine and hear her moaning my name. I can still taste her on my tongue and smell the sweat on her skin. She invaded all of my senses and she’s still clinging to me. I have never begged anyone for anything in my entire life, and yet there I was, pleading with her to be with me. She had said she wanted to, and I could feel how much she meant it. We were going to be happy together; I had promised her I would take care of her like she deserves. It was all right there for me. All of the things I had been dreaming of and wanting for so long. Then I went and fucked it all up.

She was right, too. I will wake up all alone one day, and I will have no one to blame but myself.

It’s a week later, and I’m busy packing up all of my shit into boxes since I plan on moving out tomorrow. I haven’t seen much of Klaus because he hasn’t been around a lot and when he is, he avoids me and locks himself in his room. I had immediately started looking for a new place and I found one that is ok and will be fine short term. It’s also fairly close to her coffee shop, which had not been intentional, but it’s not my fault that’s where it’s located. I’m packing up some books when Klaus comes and stands in the doorway. I look up, startled. He’s holding a bottle of vodka in one hand and two shot glasses in the other.

“Mind if I come in?” he asks.

“Sure, come on in.”

He walks in and sits down on the edge of my bed. He puts the shot glasses on the side table and pours vodka into each of them, filling them to the top before he sets the bottle down. He hands one over to me and I take it from him even though I’m confused as hell right now.

“What’s this for?” I ask.

Klaus shrugs. “I don’t know, but I feel like we should have one more drink together before you move out.”

I don’t know how to respond to that, so I just follow his lead and hold my glass up in a toast before slinging it back. It burns on the way down but it tastes good.

“You don’t have to leave, you know,” Klaus says after a long pause.

“Yes, I do.”

He sighs and looks around my room. “Look, I know this is a weird situation, and I am still mad at you, but that doesn’t mean I want you to leave.”

“You told me I wasn’t your brother and to go fuck myself,” I remind him.

“Ah, yes, well…perhaps I was a bit over-dramatic. I was just a tad hungover still and you were yelling just so loudly. Really, Five, your voice just pierces right into the brain sometimes and makes people say things just to get you to stop.” I shake my head. “No, you were the appropriate amount of dramatic and I don’t blame you. You’re right, I’m a shitty brother and I messed up big time. Which is why I need to leave.”

“Look, Five, I didn’t mean all of that, ok? Yes, I was pissed. And yes, maybe what you did was not the greatest thing ever. But you were also right.”

“About what?”

“About not caring about her. I realize that regardless of our status, I still was a pretty shitty friend to her. I’m glad she had you here. Even if you did rail her hard enough I think even I could feel it.”

I cringe. “Klaus, I’m sorry. I know that doesn’t begin to cover it, but I truly am sorry.”

He nods thoughtfully. “So…how long have you been in love with her?”

I stare, open-mouthed and wide-eyed; dumbstruck. Klaus laughs.

“You think you’re so smart and slick all of the time, but I got news for you Fivey…you ain’t.”

“What are you talking about?” I sputter out, even though it’s about the worst acting anyone’s ever done.

Klaus rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “It’s ok, you can admit it. I’m not dumb or blind. Or deaf, as it turns out. I know how you operate around people, and I have never seen you like you are when you’re with her. You are one smitten kitten and you know what? Good for you.”

I am about to protest again, but when I go to deny it, I realize I just don’t have the heart or the energy for it. “Ok, you’re right, I love her. I’m sorry, but I do. I have for a while now.”

He nods and smiles, not shocked by this information. “Like I said, good for you. You deserve love and happiness in your life, Five. Would I have preferred it to be with someone I hadn’t also bumped uglies with? Probably. But hey, love works in mysterious ways, right? I mean, look at me! I fell in love with someone I met after falling out of the sky in the middle of a fucking war zone. Talk about bad timing! I guess we Hargreeves are good at bad timing, though, aren’t we?”

He laughs, even though it’s more sad than funny and I stand there for a minute in thought. Then I come to a conclusion.

“There’s only one way I’m going to feel better about this and be able to move on with a reasonably clear conscience.”

“What’s that?”

“You have to hit me.”

Klaus looks at me in disbelief. “Uh…yeah, ok, Five. I’m not falling for that.”

I shake my head and roll my shoulders back, facing him head-on. “No, I mean it. I want you to punch me directly in the face. I won’t hit back or defend myself.”

“Five, I don’t want to hit you…”

“Come on! I’m sure you’ve thought about it on several occasions before. Well, now here’s your chance. For the second time in your life, you can hit me in the face without any backlash. I promise.”

He chuckles. “Oh yeah, that was a fun day. But seriously, even if I did want to hit you, which I don’t, I’m not even good at it, you know that. I never have been. I’m like one of those guys in old cartoons where they swing and miss and just spin around in a circle.”

“Klaus, for fucks sake, stand up and punch me in the fucking face!”

After another pause, he stands up in front of me. He’s still taller than me, despite me being at my full height now. He looks down on me nervously and I see his fists clench and unclench.

“Really? You really want me to do this?”

I nod. “I really do.” Then I hold my finger up. “However, just remember this is one hit.”

He shrugs and lifts his fist up, pulling it back and I close my eyes to brace myself. WHAM! He gets me right in the jaw and he is a big fucking liar because he is good at it and it hurts like a motherfucker.

“Son of a…Fuck!” I yell, holding my face. I swear I can already feel a bruise forming and I run my tongue over my teeth to make sure they are all still accounted for.

“Oh my god, Five, are you ok? Shit, I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I actually did that!” Klaus is panicking at first but after a couple of seconds, he starts laughing. “I can’t believe I actually did that. And you haven’t killed me or even maimed me! Man, I got you good, too.”

“Yeah,” I mumble, still rubbing my throbbing jaw. “Turns out it hurts a whole lot more when you know it’s coming.” Klaus continues to laugh at my pain, and even though it hurts to move my face, I grin up at him. “This was a one-time offer, by the way. So, don’t be thinking you’re hot shit, because I will drop you without a second thought.”

Klaus gives a sarcastic salute. “Message received, big bro.” He purses his lips together and gestures to the boxes around my room. “So, are you still leaving?”

I nod. “Yes, I’m still leaving. And it’s not even all because of that. I don’t think it’s doing either of us any good to be living together like this. I have realized that I was using you as an excuse not to move on with my life. I told myself I was doing you a favor when in reality, I was just looking for a purpose. Any purpose. But I need to figure that out for myself.”

“Ok, but you’re just going to leave me all alone here?”

I shrug. “Maybe Luther wants to move in.”

Klaus looks horrified. “Good lord, no thank you! You skipped out on the grosser years of having to live with that barn animal and let me tell you, it’s no picnic. I don’t need giant pairs of tighty whities thrown around my bathroom, or having boxes of my favorite cereal eaten up in two days.”

I grin and clap him on the shoulder. “You’ll figure it out, Klaus. You always do. And you don’t need me to help you do it, either.”

“Thanks, Fivey,” he says softly, before catching me off guard and pulling me in for a bear hug, trapping me against his chest.

“Ah! My face! Let go, you stupid asshole!” He lets me go and I rub at my jaw again, glaring up at him. He is unfazed so I just shake my head. Klaus will always be Klaus, and I meant what I said. He’ll be just fine without me here.

*********************************************************************

“Feet. Off. The coffee table,” I say as I whack at Klaus with a rolled-up newspaper like he’s a cat on a kitchen counter.

“Hey! Geez, alright…keep your shirt on, old man,” he protests as he tries to guard himself with his hands while removing his feet from where they were propped. “What’s got your little assassin bonnet full of bees today?”

“Nothing! Maybe I just don’t want your disgusting feet all over my furniture.”

Klaus tilts his head to the side, looking up at me. “No…I don’t think that’s it. You seem even more murderous lately than normal.” Then his face lights up. “I know! I bet you haven’t been laid in a while, that’s got to be it. That’s an easy fix, too, because I bet if I go outside right now and made an announcement that the infamous and very sexy Number Five Hargreeves was looking for some action, you’d have a stampede of pretty ladies and probably some pretty men breaking down your door.”

“Klaus,” I start to say before he interrupts.

“Wait! Here’s a better idea. Me and you, we go on the prowl tonight. I’ll take you to some great clubs where you can meet someone that’s suitable for banging. Well, they’re not clubs as much as warehouses full of people tripping on acid, but still. I guarantee I can get you laid by the end of the night.”

“Klaus.”

“Yeah?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

When he manages to look like a kicked puppy, I roll my eyes and sigh. “Thank you for your concern over my sex life, but I do not need to get laid. I’m fine.”

He eyes me up and when I look away guiltily, he gasps with a hand on his chest. “Hang on. Do not tell me the last time you put your banana in a fruit salad was with…”

My silence is the only answer he needs and he gives another dramatic gasp, which makes me grit my teeth together.

“Holy shit, Fivey! Well, no fucking wonder you’ve got your man panties in a wad lately.”

“Again, and I say this with the utmost love and respect…shut the fuck up.”

He stands up. “No, no, no…I will not shut up! So, you’re telling me that over the past six months , you’ve been carrying a torch for her? Wow, that is some romantic shit right there. But still, that shouldn’t stop you from driving the ol’ Pope mobile into some lucky lady’s Vatican now and then.”

“What is wrong with you?”

“We don’t have time to get into all of that right now. Besides, this is about you. I’m serious, Five, you can’t go on re-living your virgin years just because you’re a little hung up on one person.”

I shake my head and put my hands in my pockets. “I’m not just hung up on her. She’s all I think about. All day, all night. I still love her, Klaus.”

I don’t know why I let my walls down just now and told him the truth, but the fact is we have actually been getting along much better now that we aren’t under the same roof anymore. I’m starting to feel a little more comfortable talking about things with him. And the nice thing about Klaus is that he’s done so many weird and fucked up things in his life, he never judges.

“Oh, Five,” he says sadly. “I had no idea. You never mentioned it so I just assumed you’d moved on.”

“Yeah, well…it’s fine. I’ll get over it eventually.”

“You know, the easy solution to this is to walk your cute buns over to that coffee place of hers and tell her what you just told me. Confess your undying love. Sweep her off her feet.”

I laugh and run a hand through my hair. “Yeah, I don’t think that would work. Pretty sure she hates my guts. And for good reason.”

“Listen, as someone who had a very close seat to the ‘Five Hargreeves Fuck-tacular’ show, I’m going to bet she doesn’t hate your guts. No one sounds like that while getting their naughty bits plowed into oblivion and then just forgets about it.”

Ignoring that little comment, I shake my head. “You don’t understand. I really fucked this one up and I don’t think there’s any way to come back from it.”

“Well, all you can do is try. If she hates you, then it’s as you suspected and you can move on. If not, then you two can sail off into the sunset together. There’s really nothing to lose here.”

He has a point, but the thought of just walking in there to try and talk to her is terrifying. I’m not sure I have the balls for it.

“Want me to go talk to her for you?” he asks.

“What? No!” When I see him smile mischievously, I jab my finger at him. “I’m warning you, Klaus, if you go over there and so much as even mention my name, I swear to god I will blink you to Antarctica and leave you there.”

Klaus waves his hand at me. “Please…you’ve been threatening that since we were kids. You really need to come up with something new. But, fine, I won’t go over there.”

When I nod my approval, I assume this conversation is done. It’s not, apparently, and Klaus grins at me again.

“In the meantime, how about I set you up on some casual dates? You don’t want to be out of practice if your lady decides to take you back. What do you think? You up for a game of pelvic pinochle? Burying the weasel? Filling the cream donut? Launching the meat missile?”

I massage my temples with my fingers, trying to fight off the headache I can feel forming behind my eyes. “For the love of all that is holy, Klaus, can you please shut the fuck up? I am begging you.”

He gives his annoying little Klaus giggle. “Sure thing, Fivey. Whatever you say.”

“Thank you.”

Four days later I’m whacking at him with the newspaper again. This time for a different reason.

“Ow! I didn’t mention your name, just like you told me, I swear! Ow!”

“You talked to her and gave her my address!” I yell, whacking at him harder around the head.

“Damnit, cut it out! You said don’t mention your name and I didn’t. She just happened to know who I was talking about. OW!”

I stop my assault and stand there, breathing hard through my nose as I glare at my stupid ass brother. “Why? Why the fuck did you do that?”

“Listen, Fivey, I love you and all but you are really your own worst enemy. I’m trying to move things along for you; help you out. You can’t stay here, all pent-up with sexual energy and moping around the house for the rest of your life. Don’t you want to get out there and live? Don’t you want someone to share your life with?”

I sigh and flop down into an armchair. He’s right, of course, even if I don’t want to admit it. “Maybe,” I mutter.

“Of course you do! That’s what everyone wants in life. And you, old timer, have been given the gift of time and the chance to start over. That’s like everyone’s dream! So, don’t just sit here and waste a gift like that. Not when you could be out there spreading a little of that teleporting-genius-infused DNA around with your special man sauce.”

I make a face. “Gross. Please don’t say ‘man sauce’ again.”

“Anyway…she didn’t say she wanted you dead and she accepted the piece of paper I gave her, so…I don’t know, those are both good things, right?”

“I guess. Did she say anything else?” I ask, trying not to get my hopes up.

Klaus shakes his head. “No, sorry.”

I wasn’t expecting anything, but it still feels like a bit of a blow. I nod, and then I look at Klaus suspiciously. “Did you say anything else?”

He puts a hand to his chest. “Who, moi ? Of course not. Well, I did apologize for everything that went down, but like I said, your name didn’t come up.”

“Hmm…why do I get the feeling that’s not the full truth?”

Klaus shrugs innocently. “I have no idea, but trust me. I bet any day now she’ll come knocking on your door wanting some more of that sweet, sweet loving from you. Just you wait.”

As if his prophecy was about to be fulfilled at that precise moment, I glance towards the door. What would I even say if she really did show up here? I had been avoiding her place like the plague, even though that meant taking much longer routes to certain places. Except for those few times when I couldn’t help myself and I watched through the windows from across the street and then blinked away before she could spot me. Otherwise, the thought of having to face her again makes my stomach churn. So, maybe Klaus did do me a favor. Maybe she really will hunt me down and knock on my door one day soon. If she does, I’m sure it will be just for the opportunity to chew me out. But, even so, the thought of seeing her standing in front of me again makes my pulse race just a little faster.

Link to the next few chapters here!

@baileebear

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