a/n — I'm not quite sure how this happened but it did. I hope you enjoy.
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It's a mess
It's a start
It's a flawed work of art
Your city, your call
Every crack, every wall
Pick a side, pick a fight
- Snow Patrol, Take Back The City
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He doesn't suspect anything at first. He opens his eyes and he's no longer in the coffin staring up at the Bennet witch. This was expected. He doesn't have anything to question.
Except when he looks down and it's his own body he sees—not a particularly unpleasant sight, of course, but alarming considering he's meant to be tanner and smaller (in a lot of places, he suspects).
He looks around and takes in the room he's in. He concludes it's a teenage boy's bedroom—tasteless pornography on the wall and not even one painting. A nice landscape of a sunset over the ocean placed over the bed would match the blue quilt and dull blue covering the walls. He can think of a portrait that would brighten up this room nicely—as she does every room.
Not that he cares. He's completely over that little interest—it was most certainly not a crush. Hybrid kings don't have crushes. Even though she'd look fabulous with a crown atop those golden curls. Not that he was thinking about her—because he wasn't. He's too busy wondering why he's not Tyler Lockwood. Not that he particularly wants to be but—
"KLAUS SWEETIE, DINNER'S READY!" Was that Carol Lockwood? Had she returned from the dead and trapped him in her son's bedroom? What kind of situation had he gotten himself into?
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(Kol sniggers as he watches his brother descend the wooden staircase.
"What have you done, Nik?"
He would help but this is far too amusing.)
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"Sit down at the table, honey." Carol smiles at him then grips his shoulder tightly (he holds back a growl, he's far too clever to give himself away before knowing all the facts) and whispers to him. "We have guests. Don't you dare act up!"
He blinks and watches her walk away. Pity he can't re-kill her yet. He sighs and mutters to himself. "What is happening?"
"Are you talking to yourself?" He turns to see a smiling Caroline standing in the doorway.
Klaus frowns, deeply confused. Yet another not unpleasant surprise. Interesting.
"Did you even shower today?" She giggles, walking over to him. "Or get out of bed for that matter."
"Ah.." He's at a loss for words, to be honest. He doesn't know how to respond to her. Not when she's being nice to him. He does want her to smile at him more often though. She tuts and starts combing his hair with her fingers. He tries not to moan. She giggles again when he does. Brilliant, the Bennett witch gave him Tyler Lockwood's hormones. Something was definitely lost in translation.
"We have to sit through dinner first." Is she imply—did she just wink at him? If he wasn't curious as to what is going on he would have whisked her away by now, someplace dark, preferably a dungeon. He rather likes dungeons. Dark and isolated. Where she'd have to solely rely on him, for company, for blood— oh, he can't wait to taste her. And, ironically, he has imagined taking her in a coffin once or twice too. But where hasn't he imagined pleasuring her?
"Caroline—" He wants to compel her (a small part of him always has) but he has this horrible feeling, that he prays is incorrect, that he's— of a lesser species now. He almost shivers at the thought.
"That's my name." She grins and grabs his hand, leading him into the dining room in the Lockwood house. Should he question this? Perhaps he should play along...in case he disrupts some sort of balance, of course. You never know with witches after all. Pesky things are always a pain in his arse.
"Bill, what's this I hear about you moving away?" A man Klaus has never seen before asks another man he has never seen before as he takes his seat beside Caroline (and if she doesn't stop touching him—).
"Well," 'Bill' says, licking his lips nervously. Klaus notices Caroline's mother avert her eyes when the man looks at her. "I got a promotion." Caroline squeezes his hand and he looks over to her. He feels like he should say something comforting. It's an odd feeling, like his chest is burning.
He leans closer to her, though she doesn't notice as her eyes are on her parents (or, that's who he presumes they are), and whispers in her ear. "It's alright." Her eyes widen as she turns to him, like she wasn't expecting him to notice her. He sends her a small smile and she beams in return.
If this is a trap, at least he got to cause that smile.
But again, not a crush.
"That's brilliant, Bill!" Mrs Lockwood exclaims then quickly pretends to be remorseful. "Of course we will be sad to see Liz and Caroline go." Go? He just got here, and he is liking the handholding (which absolutely no one is to find out about).
"Oh," the sheriff clears her throat. "Actually we will be staying here." Mrs and Mr Lockwood look curious— like they're itching for a scandal. He's always hated that about humans. Their lives revolve around trivial matters— other people's, in fact. The sheriff fakes a smile. "I am still sheriff, after all. I couldn't leave such a good job, and of course Caroline has her whole life here. Her clubs, her friends, her Klaus. It—it just wouldn't be fair on her." Her Klaus, eh?
"Of course." Mrs Lockwood smiles and nods, picking up her glass of water. The 'adults' settle into conversation. Klaus furrows his eyebrows and looks down at the odd noise erupting from him. Is he diseased? He snaps his head up when Caroline laughs.
"Somebody's hungry." She sends him a teasing smile before taking a bite from the meat on her fork. He's—hungry? Of course he's adapted and learned to recognise the ache that comes with craving for blood, but he's never been simply hungry for centuries.
Picking up his own fork, he stabs a roasted potato and hesitantly brings it up to his mouth. He inspects it with narrowed eyes before tentatively poking it with his tongue. He decides it's acceptable and takes a bite, almost moaning. When did he start to like the taste of food?
He turns his head to see Caroline's amused smile and raised eyebrows. He could get used to this.
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After a surprisingly satisfying dinner, Caroline drags him upstairs and back to the room he awoke in. She flings the door open and suddenly pushes his chest as hard as she can. He stumbles back onto the bed.
He turns to raise an eyebrow at her but her soft lips are suddenly on his. He raises a hand to cup her cheek as he starts to return her sudden passion. He wraps a hand around her back and pulls her to him. A low moan fills the room. He doesn't know if it's hers or his but he does know that she feels so very good pressed against him. He bites down gently on her lip as he imagines swinging her around and plunging into her from behind, throwing her on the floor and making her suck him off, tying her to the bed and— Her yelp of pain turns him off a little bit (or, it should, so people—Elijah—tell him).
He pulls back to look at her as she brushes a finger over her bloodstained lips. Perhaps he hadn't bitten her quite as gently as he had thought.
"I guess you were right," Caroline says softly, her eyes wet from unshed tears. "This isn't going to work. I'm sorry!" She begins to sob and Klaus— well, Klaus freezes and stares at her because she's crying and what is he expected to do here?
Normally when Rebekah cries Elijah reassures her that she is right about whatever she was wrong about. He could try that.
"Don't cry, sweetheart!" He awkwardly pulls her closer to him (which, admittedly, does nothing to help his already erect penis) for a hug. "You—have nothing to be sorry for. It was my fault." Probably. He now realises knowing what she's upset about might help.
"Oh, no it wasn't, baby!" His poor throbbing— have you no sympathy, you beautiful blonde vixen? He has zero willpower when you talk to him so tenderly. He bets this is the bloody witch's plan. Tease him to no end and then lock him back up in that coffin (it was poetically one of his— bloody Salvatores). "You told me that you'd lose control but I just— I just really want to be able to kiss you and make love to you!" Yes, this is someone's evil plan. "Like a normal couple!" He narrows his eyes in confusion and she shakes her head rapidly. "Oh, no! I didn't mean to offend you! You know what I—" Caroline sighs and caresses his cheek softly. "It's not your fault you're a werewolf."
Oh. Brilliant. Well, at least that explains his urge to pound into her and never stop.
"Car—"
"No! No, I understand! We can't do that but we can still do all the other things!" She smiles reassuringly at him. "We can go on picnics and hold hands and watch movies you don't like." She laughs nervously, her eyes losing their light slightly. "Please don't break up with me!"
"Br— Why would I ever dream of doing that?" Seriously, love, he's not entirely certain that he's not dreaming you actually being with him right now.
She smiles, relieved, and kisses him again. He wraps his palm around the back of her neck (pulling her closer, his own little way of asserting dominance, a touch to say he's in control) and eagerly returns her kiss. He opens his mouth and sucks the blood left on her lip. He has no craving for it but he wanted to taste her, and he's Klaus Mikaelson, he gets what he wants (in every universe, he's decided— especially now he's sampled it).
She pulls away suddenly and he's worried—yes, him, worried, laugh all you want, Kol—he's scared her away.
"I'm sorry," she whispers. "I shouldn't have—"
He pulls her back to him, moving his mouth in rhythm with hers. His hands travel the winding road of her curves and her slim fingers grasp his hair. He exhales softly because there's this new warmth in him that he'll probably deny later. She smiles against his lips. Klaus slips a hand under her shirt and rubs circles into her back, just because he love—likes the feeling of her skin. He doesn't love anything. He's Klaus. Klaus Mikaelson. And he does not love anything.
He moves his hand upward, rubbing the same pattern, until he finds the clip of her bra. He lets out a satisfied grunt when he opens it first try. Caroline begins to pull back from him but the hand around her neck doesn't let her. She laughs and it vibrates against his skin. He reluctantly releases her the next time she pulls back.
"Are you—okay?" She looks genuinely concerned for him, her plump lips parting.
"Perfectly," he smirks at her, moving his thumb along her skin until it's petting right under her breast. "And how are you?"
"Stop that!" She smiles at him, then her serious expression returns. "It's just— why now?" He raises both eyebrows at her. "I just don't understand. We've been together for a year now and you always say it's too dangerous and you don't want to hurt me. Which I do understand and I'm glad that you care but you've always gotten angry at me for—well, throwing myself at you. But I want to give this to you, Klaus! I love you! And Bonnie and Elena say that you don't care but you're only cold towards me because you do care. I understand you, Klaus. I do. So much. Just, don't start this if you won't let us finish. I can't— I can't handle that."
He is fucked. Forwards, backwards— every damn way. This is cruel. Far crueller than anything he's ever done (well..). Whoever did this will pay.
"Caroline Forbes," he whispers, shaking his head. He cups her cheek with his palm and smiles softly at her. He has a weakness for her little freckles, okay? That's it. "I'd prefer you throwing yourself at me than someone else." That's as deep as he can go, sweetheart, don't expect anything more.
She hugs him. He can't remember the last time he was hugged.
"I love you, too." She giggles into his shoulder. He hates that he has to remind himself that this isn't real.
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