Notes: Wrote some drabbles yesterday! I'm planning on really focusing on my multichapters stories in July/August so I thought I'd get some prompts out of the way. We've got 3 fluff ones and a smut one at the bottom. Enjoy and please tell me what you thought!
Masterpiece
(Promt from goldcaught: kc + beach shenanigans! klaus building exceedingly elaborate sand art as a way to distract himself from eating annoying beach goers/ripping caroline's bikini off. Title from 'Cake by the Ocean' by DNCE. Rated T).
"No," Caroline declares, in response to the nearly inaudible grumble Klaus had just made. There's screaming children about twenty feet away, splashing each other in the waves. He hadn't been happy that she'd insisted they venture out from their rented villa and its private slice of beach. "You cannot eat children, Klaus."
She's joking. Mostly. Kol had once told her that children were awful tasting. A conversation she really wished she could wipe from her memory.
Klaus makes another low noise of complaint and she fights not to roll her eyes. When Klaus wasn't happy he really wasn't subtle.
Caroline adored their private space too – her tan was fantastic and line free – but she craved something a little less quiet for a couple hours. Some quality people watching, listening to the hum of conversations around her. And some time spent around people wouldn't kill Klaus. Plus, Caroline was kind of worried for the health of the handful of staff that kept the vacation house up and donated blood (willingly, but still). The cook in particular was a wizard and Caroline thought picking up a snack when they were out and about was the least they could do.
She feels Klaus' eyes on her but doesn't bother to open her own.
He'd been eyeing her white bikini – admittedly very small and purchased with temptation in mind, sue her – with hunger ever since she'd walked out of the bathroom with it on. She'd had to put a fair amount of effort into making herself walk away from him and going through with her plans for the day.
Not tackling Klaus and letting him do the filthy wonderful things those sex eyes promised had been a trial and Caroline patted herself on the back for her self-control. She liked the suit and did not want it shredded.
At least before she got to wear it for a couple of hours.
If she looked at him now she's sure he could convince her to move her timetable up and Caroline refused. Klaus was an expert at taking a mile and she would not give one single inch.
"How about compelling them to be silent?" Klaus wonders thoughtfully. "Perhaps show a little respect for their fellow beachgoers?"
Caroline snorts, rolling over and resting her head on her folded arms, "I somehow suspect your choice of words would be a little more terrifying."
Klaus ghosts a finger up the length of her spine, toying with the string at her back, "I've found terror to be a very effective way of getting what I want."
"Yeah, hence why your minions are so squirrelly."
She's pretty impressed with herself with how evenly that had come out. Klaus' hands haven't left her skin, are tracing distracting shapes over the dip of her spine, dipping teasingly under her bikini bottom. If she tells him to stop he'll take it as a victory, and double his efforts in seducing her.
She needs to redirect him before she caves. Beach sex was usually a mistake. Sand chafed something awful, vampire healing or not.
Caroline cracks her eyes open, scanning the beach for something that would work. The kids are right in her line of sight, splashing each other with brightly colored pails.
And the idea that hits her is really kind of perfect. So simple, she can't believe it had never occurred to her before.
Sandcastles.
Klaus' artistic leanings plus obsessive attention to detail? He'd be into it if only she could convince him to give it a shot.
She pushes herself to her feet, dusting sand off her calves. Klaus' brows furrow questioningly, a hint of triumph in his smirk as he looks up at her. He thinks he's won and begins to rise, but Caroline shakes her head, "Nope. I said until dinner and we're staying. But there's something I need and this suit doesn't exactly have pockets. Can I borrow your wallet?"
Klaus' settles back on his towel, expression shifting back into mild annoyance. But he obligingly hands the wallet over, not that she'd expected him to protest. Klaus had a ridiculous amount of money and no qualms about her spending it. She'd been awkward about it thirty years ago, insisted on paying for her own meals, when he'd first shown back up in her orbit. But that had faded with time and Klaus' casualness about the topic.
"Thanks!" she chirps. "Be right back!"
Caroline spins on her heel before Klaus can press for an explanation, heading in the direction of the few shops. It doesn't take her long to find what she needs, the sales clerk is very helpful (and Caroline's glad that Klaus hadn't followed her because he would not have appreciated the poor kid's fascination with her boobs) and she's soon back out in the sunshine.
Klaus has reclined back onto the towel, dark sunglasses covering his face. Caroline slows as she approaches, doing a little ogling of her own. As much as she likes Klaus naked, the navy trunks are worthy of appreciation too, clingy and cut just below hipbones that she's planning on licking later.
He pushes the glasses up as she nears, amused and smug like he knows what she was thinking. And maybe he does, because her bikini's probably not doing much to hide how her body's reacted to her mildly dirty musings.
Klaus sits up, surveys the things she's bought with mild distaste. "That's what you needed?"
Caroline grins, "Yep! Fun fact: once upon a time I was awesome at sandcastles. Won a contest with my dad on a family vacay when I was seven. Seeing those kids reminded me and I thought I'd see if I've still got it. Wanna help?"
Technically she'd come in second. But that hadn't been her fault. Her dad hadn't packed the sand for one of the towers well enough and it had crumbled. They'd deserved the win on both artistic merit and general ambition though. Plus, Klaus was a big fan of stretching the truth so what was the harm in the lie?
"Not particularly," Klaus tells her, laying back once more.
Caroline laughs, kneeling next to him in the sand. "Let me rephrase. If you help we can skip dinner at the restaurant I wanted to go to and go back to the villa. If you don't than I think I'm going to feel like dancing. All night long. And then I'll be so tired that I'll go right to sleep."
Such a lie and they both know it.
But it gets his attention. Klaus' eyes narrow but he reaches for one of the buckets, examining it carefully. "You play dirty, love."
Caroline bites her lip to hide another smile, leaning over to begin digging. Kind of proving Klaus' point, since her top isn't exactly supportive and he definitely notices and is soon right next to her, shooting evil looks at anyone who wanders too close.
It turns out she's a genius, or maybe she just knows Klaus by now. Not an hour later he's absorbed in the task, has even made a trip back to the shops for more tools (nothing she'd bought would make a suitable turret apparently) and he barely even notices when Caroline retreats to her towel and brings out the book she'd brought.
He works for hours, until the sun sets and the castle is huge and gorgeous with painstaking details. People stop by to marvel at it as they're leaving and she can tell Klaus is pleased though he'd never admit it. Though, to be fair, she'd bet Klaus had been in more than his fair share of actual castles so he has a bit of an unfair advantage over your average sandcastle maker.
She takes a picture before they go, and it makes it into a scrapbook when they get home. It's eventually joined by another. And another, each managing to be more elaborate and beautiful. Klaus begins to bring his own tools. Even makes a couple.
One of these days she's going to convince Klaus to enter a contest. They'd totally win.
Can't Let It Go
(Prompt from candicemorgan: kc + "you're my professor & u have this intricate tattoo poking out of your shirt but i can't tell what it is, so after a few weeks it finally drives me insane to ask about it & u tell me you'll explain it at the end of the semester if i get an A" au. Title From 'In The Light' by The Lumineers. Rated K+).
The problem, Caroline had decided, was that he just didn't seem like the type. That's why she was fixated.
Klaus Mikaelson refused to fit into the neat little box she'd built for him in her mind and that was annoying. Caroline was an excellent judge of character. Always had been, thank you very much. And she hated being wrong.
Almost as much as she hated admitting that she might be wrong.
It was Klaus' first year teaching, but Caroline had known that before she'd even set foot in the room (he had zero entries on ratemyprofessors which had made her a little leery). He'd told them as much during the first class. All wry smiles and dimples, amused and self-deprecating, joking that the school was giving him a trial run and he'd appreciate it if they were gentle with him. She'd never been the lust after the teacher type, far too focused and intent on proving herself, but she'd be lying if she said Professor Mikaelson didn't do it for her.
Maybe it was the accent, maybe it was the crisp shirts and well fitted pants. Why he bothered for a summer class that met from 6-9 on Mondays and Wednesdays, when most of her other professors weren't willing to put in nearly as much effort into looking put together in the daytime during the regular semesters, Caroline didn't know. But she wasn't going to complain. Not when his ass looked like that and the thin cotton button ups hinted at some truly excellent shoulders.
Hey, she wasn't exactly pleased to be doing summer classes but it was a necessary evil. Any little nugget of joy she could find helped. It's not like she was planning on making a move on her professor.
That first day she'd only half listened to his intro, just paying enough attention to get the pertinent details so she could online stalk him later, make sure there was nothing sketchy she could find. He'd given them the basics – told them he'd been working steadily since completing his MBA, for a massive global corporation (omitting the fact that it had been his family's), but had desired a break from that world and so had decided to try his hand at teaching.
Later she'd read that his resignation from the company was abrupt. It had raised some eyebrows, left some bloggers baffled and tossing insane theories about. She devoured them (because knowledge was power) buy dismissed most of them easily. He pretty clearly wasn't in rehab, or under an FBI investigation if he was teaching, and if he'd knocked up his secretary that wasn't really her business, was it? Something like that wouldn't affect her grade.
She'd given up speculating and accepted that whatever the reasons he'd ended up behind the lectern of her Global Marketing class she'd probably never know it. She needed the class so she had no choice but to roll with it if she was going to manage to graduate a semester early.
She'd pegged him as a trust fund baby, guessed that daddy was mad about something and he was living out a punishment – exile in a tiny college town. Caroline had assumed Klaus was like the many rich guys she'd encountered at school (aka the worst). It was the price she paid for a top notch education – mansplaining douchebags everywhere. He'd be the type with an overly high opinion of himself (and his intellect) with a steadfast general belief that the world was blessed simply because he was a part of it.
Caroline had been resigned to being bored out of her mind, sure that he'd pepper his lectures with self-aggrandizing anecdotes about that time he'd saved the big deal and made the company oodles of money all by his lonesome. Told herself she'd have to restrain the eye rolls, and perfect her interested face, because that breed of guy was usually petty and she'd like her GPA to stay flawless. Comforted herself with the fact that he was at least enjoyable to look at if she was forced to waste perfectly lovely summer evenings listening to him speak.
But he'd kind of surprised her.
His lectures were actually good. Interesting and engaging without the super cluttered power point accompaniments that were the bane of Caroline's existence (ugh, if you couldn't make your point in under twenty slides you were totally doing it wrong!). He did tell stories but they actually managed to be relevant. Occasionally even funny. He encouraged discussion, added things to get the ball rolling and didn't mind being argued with. By the end of the fourth class she was actually looking forward to the next week. Found herself moving several rows up and participating with enthusiasm.
And maybe studying him a little more closely than she should have.
Finding things that just seemed off.
His clothes remained the same but relaxed the slightest bit. One day the shirt collar was a little more open, an extra button undone, and Caroline spied leather cords, beads. She spent the rest of the class trying to get a closer look only belatedly realizing that she was barely taking any notes and probably being super creepy.
She'd noticed a classmate or two lingering after the lectures were done, saw through the coy smiles and hair tosses and she did not want Professor Mikaelson to think she was perving on him.
Even if she was.
It's not like she could control her dreams, okay? And if the necklaces were a little enriching, played heavily in a few, no one would ever know except her.
He'd caught her eye during that class, lifted a questioning eyebrow. Caroline had hurriedly looked away, counting to ten before sneaking another peek. Only to find him still watching her, an expression she couldn't quantify on his face. He'd smiled, small and almost private, before smoothly interjecting a question into the debate.
It was the first time she'd felt like he'd really seen her (even if he was excellent at remembering names and called on her occasionally). But it wasn't the last. His lips twitched when she rolled her eyes at a classmate's particularly dumb argument. He called on her when she was dying to interrupt and say something. Wished her goodnight when she walked past him on the way out of class.
All very confusing and not great for her mental state, her continuous efforts to avoid a serious crush.
Caroline flat out refused to call it such a thing, told herself she was just trying to work him out. Professors weren't robots and she wasn't above tailoring her assignment style to their particular likes and dislikes in an effort to get the best results. So many things just seemed weird, she rationalized, trying to justify her preoccupation. The necklaces were a style choice a go getting corporate drone type wouldn't make and it bugged her.
Caroline was fond of her boxes. They kept things neat and tidy and organized. Finding her professor hot was one thing, finding him intriguing was another. A thing she did not want to deal with.
And then the broken air conditioning incident had happened.
The classroom had been sweltering, all the windows thrown wide but not a hint of breeze to be found. The twenty or so students who'd bothered to show up had stripped down to the bare minimum of clothing, were all flushed and damp with sweat. Caroline had a pencil shoved through a messy bun holding her hair off her neck (because of course her single hairband had snapped) and was fanning herself with a notebook while longingly thinking of popsicles when it had happened.
Professor Mikaelson (who had long since told them to call them Klaus but Caroline refrained, even inside her own head, to remind herself that he was 1000% off limits) wasn't in a much better state and looked miserable as he plowed through the material, his hair curling about his ears and neck more than usual.
She'd been idly thinking about what he'd do if she ran her hands through it, what he could be doing to her while she did it, when he'd rolled up his sleeves.
Not something he'd ever done before (and Caroline totally would have noticed) and she'd watched him do it with great interest (men got more attractive when they did the rolled up sleeve thing. It was practically a scientific fact) blinking in surprise when he revealed more than just skin.
Ink. Black. A major tattoo, beginning halfway down his forearm, she could just see the edges of it when he was done.
Yet another big fat hole blown in Caroline's preconceptions about who Klaus was.
And her traitorous brain (and okay, fine, more than her brain) wanted to see more. Caroline wanted to touch so badly that her hands twitched and she had to clamp them around the edge of her chair.
There was no way she could deny it any longer. She totally had a thing for her professor.
She'd wanted to flee, to leave the classroom so she could have a private freak out. But that would have been strange, noticeable and suspicious, and she did not want to worry him, give him a reason to approach her.
She could just imagine how obvious she'd be with the realization fresh. And that would have been mortifying.
Luckily, class was almost done when she'd had her epiphany. Which meant that she had just over two weeks, four classes and a final, before she'd be free. Caroline could handle that. She'd keep her head down and finish the class. She was set to graduate in January, surely she could avoid Professor Mikaelson until then? And not make a fool of herself by being awkward in his presence?
At least that's what she'd told herself sitting in that muggy classroom. They'd been dismissed early and Caroline had never been so grateful, had been the first person out the door keeping her eyes averted from Klaus and speed walking past him.
And now, not two days later, she's cursing herself for ever believing in luck. She was so hoping for an easy shift.
Of all the gin joints, in all the world, he just had to walk into hers.
Looking even better than ever in a grey Henley and well-worn jeans, the necklaces clearly visible and tempting her to study them more closely.
Caroline forces a smile, resists the urge to adjust her top so that it covers more. It was purposefully tight and cleavage baring, designed to help her rake in the tips at her part time bartending job. The bar's not too far from campus and she's seen a professor or two hear before. But never one she was into and never one who's drinking companion apparently had no qualms about leering at her boobs. "What can I get you?" she asked, blandly polite.
Klaus opens his mouth to reply but the other man beats him to it, leaning over the bar with a smile that he probably thinks is charming in place. "Your name, for starters, darling."
"Not on the menu," Caroline shoots back. "We've got just about everything you can think of booze wise and killer burgers though."
"Hmm, mouthy and gorgeous? A delightful combination."
"So glad you think so," Caroline tells him flatly. She's never had a lot of patience for men who are pushy while she's trying to work. Luckily her boss is cool with it. "Now, what can I get you to drink?"
"Bourbon, neat," Klaus tells her, before the other man can answer. "And I apologize for my brother, love."
She's pouring the drinks automatically, has barely processed the 'brother' part (and the fact that learning more personal details about a crush she was intent on burying was so not a good idea) when said brother is speaking again, "Rude, Nik. I was perfectly complimentary. Do you know this lovely lady?"
He says yes just as Caroline says no.
The brother looks thrilled, letting out a loud laugh and looking between the two of them with great interest.
"He teaches my class," Caroline says, even as she kicks herself for adding fuel to this fire. "We don't know each other."
If anything, his glee grows. "A student? I cannot wait to tell Bekah."
"Don't you dare," Klaus grits out, expression hardening.
But the brother is already pulling out a phone, tapping away at the screen, seemingly unperturbed by the clear threat in Klaus' tone. "Sorry, brother. I'm afraid this is just too good to resist. And I thought your life would have gotten dull out here. A student, how scandalous. Please tell me you're in your first year."
"Um, no. I'm graduating this year."
He makes a face, "Pity."
Klaus makes an aggrieved noise and pulls out his wallet. He tosses a twenty on the bar for the drinks they hadn't touched and yanks his brother away. "I'll see you in class, Caroline," thrown over his shoulder.
She watches him go, mouth agape. It's looking like her grand plan of avoidance and playing it cool has just gone up in smoke and Caroline can't help but feel a twinge of dread.
She's going to dwell all weekend and it's going to be awful.
My Bones Shake
(Prompt from themikaelsoncupcake: "We decided to take a trip in a hot air balloon and we just got stuck in a tree and I'm scared of heights please don't leave me here" AU but could you make it with Klaus as the one being afraid of heights please. Title from 'I Want You So Bad I Can't Breathe' by OK Go. Rated K+).
She was going to kill Kol.
He'd been badgering her forever, trying to convince Caroline to bend her strict no set ups policy (been there, done that, didn't talk to Elena for a solid three weeks) and go out with his brother. She'd met Klaus exactly twice – once in passing at Kol's office and again at Kol's last birthday party. She'd remembered thinking he was hot the first time, if not her usual type. And her memories of the second are fuzzy, Kol having plied her with an awful lot of shots.
But it must have been memorable to him since Klaus had apparently all but promised his first born child to Kol to persuade him to try to get Caroline to go out with him. Kol had talked Klaus up incessantly, at every conversation, and Caroline had finally caved. One date wouldn't hurt anything and Klaus was attractive. Plus, according to Kol he was successful and 'the least dull of my brothers.' Not exactly a glowing recommendation but Caroline had been spending an awful lot of evenings in lately and was totally open to changing that sad state of affairs.
Had she known it would turn out this badly she maybe would have chosen to put up with Kol's badgering.
She has no idea why Klaus had bothered to set this up if he wasn't going to talk to her. He's staring out at the scenery, fingers clutching the side of the basket, like he has been the entire time. Caroline might as well be invisible.
She heaves a sigh, loud and aggravated, and he barely twitches. Caroline rolls her eyes, and turns away. Kol had planned this whole thing, insisting that it was the least he could do, and had driven her crazy by offering only the tiniest hints about what they'd be doing. ('What am I supposed to wear?' 'Clothes? Leave a little mystery for the second date, darling. Nik's easy but not that easy.' 'Kol!' 'Ouch, fine. Something casual. Trousers. It'll be a bit breezy.') She'd been shocked and a little nervous when she'd arrived and seen the hot air balloon.
Klaus had seemed tense when he'd stepped out of his SUV, had offered her a tight smile before making a beeline for the operator. Caroline had approached, heard Klaus' low voiced questions about licensing and safety, and the kindly looking older man's affable answers.
The man had smiled at her, offered his hand. Introduced himself as Martin. "The wind's perfect. Shall we?" he'd said, gesturing to the basket. Caroline had gulped, but she had never been a coward. Klaus had climbed in first, movements stiff and jerky (maybe he didn't like surprises either? At least they had that in common). She'd been careful as she'd followed, silently applauding herself for actually listening to Kol's advice and wearing jeans because climbing in using the footholds would have been super awkward and revealing otherwise.
She'd stumbled slightly once she was in, and Klaus had steadied her, palms warm on her waist.
He'd smelled incredible, she'd noted. No cloying cologne or excessive hair product. Another point in his favor. Caroline had smiled and thanked him, let her hands linger on his chest. "Thanks."
"You're welcome. I…"
His words died when he looked behind her and Caroline had followed his sightline only to immediately flush when she'd seen Martin (at least thirty years older than she was) nimbly climb in after them, having untied the balloon's tethers.
"And I'm clearly the least graceful person here," she'd joked, turning back to Klaus.
Klaus had managed a smile, kind of a weak one, and she'd thought he'd been about to reply but the balloon had lurched, and they'd bumped into the side struggling to find their balance. He'd fallen silent, and turned to look out. And he'd stayed silent, seemingly finding the views (and okay, they were pretty) far more interesting than her.
It was super awkward and Caroline wasn't the only one feeling it if Martin's attempts to fill the silence – pointing out landmarks or talking about the history of ballooning – were anything to go by. Caroline tries to listen attentively because at least someone in this wicker basket was trying to entertain her, but her eyes keep drifting to Klaus.
Seriously, what was his problem?
Martin's voice drifts off and he begins to fuss with the boiler. Caroline feels like it's gotten colder, and she wraps her arms around herself, wishing she'd worn something a little warmer. The movement catches Klaus' attention and he frowns before shrugging out of his own leather jacket and draping it over her shoulders.
"Take it. You're shivering."
The polite thing to do would be to thank him.
But Caroline's politeness quota has totally been expended already today.
"Gee, thanks," she tells him, all barbed sweetness and venom. "Such a gentleman. You really know how to show a girl a good time."
He looks pained, swallowing thickly. "Caroline…"
"And he speaks."
Something sparks in his eyes, maybe an answering surge of temper, and he straightens, turning towards her. But whatever he's about to say is cut off by a gust of wind. The basket lurches and they're both left scrabbling for a hold to keep their balance.
"Sorry!" Martin calls. "The wind's really picked up! Hold on while I take us down."
"Awesome," Caroline mutters. "Such a perfect ending."
The motions of the basket roughen and she avoids looking at the ground. Her eyes land on Klaus, his white knuckled grip, and his face, strained and really, really pale.
"Wait, are you afraid of heights?" she asks incredulously, the puzzle pieces suddenly painting a clearer picture.
"Just a bit," he answers, the words pushed out, his jaw clenched tight.
Caroline can't help but laugh, "And Kol totally knew, didn't he?"
"It's not a new fear."
"I thought this set up was a bit too altruistic to be his usual style."
Klaus doesn't seem to share her amusement, "I've been trying to work out the best way to kill him."
She's about to make a suggestion, something slow and painful because Kol deserves it, when they veer sharply to one side and Martin lets out a string of curses. "Hold on," he shouts and there's a sharpness there, a tinge of alarm, that has Caroline hitting the deck, yanking Klaus down with her.
Turns out she has a knack for this whole hot air ballooning thing because she'd totally saved them from getting faces full of pine needles when they careen into a tree. Caroline closes her eyes, tucking her face into Klaus' shoulder as they're jostled for several agonizingly long moments.
Finally, they stop, seem to settle and Caroline cautiously lifts her head.
Klaus had wrapped an arm around her when they'd gone down, and he touches her face when she looks up, "Are you okay?"
"Good. I'm good," Caroline manages, wide eyed and breathless from the shock. Her heart's pounding and Klaus is breathing quickly, his hand shaking slightly. "Are you…"
They moment's broken before Caroline can ask how he is, Nathan crawling over and apologizing profusely. "I am so sorry. I've never had a wind come out of nowhere like that. It brought us down hard."
"But we are down?" Klaus asks, clearing his throat.
"Mostly. A bit wedged between two trees but it isn't more than a four foot drop. I'll call my partner, have him pick you two up and run you back to your vehicles. There will, of course, be no charge."
Caroline grins, catching Klaus' eye. "Actually, you know what? That's not necessary. Klaus' brother was footing the bill and he totally deserves to pay for attempting to orchestrate a disaster. Maybe not one this dramatic but there were some serious bad intentions."
A small smirk plays about the corner of Klaus' mouth as he stands. "Attempting? Does that mean he failed?" He offers her his hand and Caroline takes it, letting him help her to her feet.
Maybe they can salvage this date after all.
"That remains to be seen," Caroline declares leaning over the side to try and judge the best way to get down.
"How might I acquit myself?" Klaus asks, his eyes trained on her face.
Caroline pretends to think about it. "Once we're on solid ground you can ask me to dinner."
"Gladly," he murmurs. "And then?"
"Then I guess we'll see if you actually have anything interesting to say."
He smiles, a glint in his eye that she's not entirely certain what to make of. Caroline wonders if she's thrown a gauntlet she shouldn't have when he drawls, "Challenge accepted, sweetheart."
We Like To Label
(Prompt from an Anon: Hey, could you do prompt 9? Maybe she's in Whitmore still and he's in NOLA being King and they've been chatting friendly until one night they're talking about dates and she mumbles something about the college guys aren't great in bed for a vampire and hasn't had a decent orgasm since the woods. Title from 'Call It What You Want' by Foster The People' SMUT).
She's juggling her books, and the pizza she'd picked up before leaving Whitmore, struggling with front the door when her phone starts ringing. She's half tempted to break it (because it always sticks) but she knows her mom will be pissed. Caroline nudges it with her shoulder, letting out a sigh of relief when it finally opens.
She really needs to find someone to fix that. Tossing the pizza on the hallway table and letting her bag drop she digs her cell out of her back pocket, noting that it's Klaus with some surprise. It's after 1 AM and such a late call could very well mean something not good. She's unable to keep the worry from her voice when she answers, "Hello?"
"Evening, love."
Well, at least that didn't sound like life and death.
Caroline huffs, bends to pick up her bag, tucking her phone into her shoulder and grabbing the pizza too. "Can I help you with something? It's late and I'm busy."
A lie. She'd planned to do absolutely nothing and see absolutely no one this weekend. The dorms were working her last nerve (all those people, all that noise, the smells…) and her the lack of appealing social prospects was downright depressing. Caroline had tried, gotten all dressed up to go to a party had found a cute boy who'd been reasonably amusing. She'd let him press her against a wall but he'd kissed like a particularly enthusiastic puppy, all tongue and saliva with no finesse. Had gone right for her bra without even asking. She'd tried to get into it, attempted to close her eyes and let her imagination do the work but his cologne was cheap and acrid, his build too tall, the angles all wrong.
She'd given up, pushed him away.
At least she'd gotten a snack out of the deal.
She'd compelled him to go sleep off the beer and the blood loss, and had stalked home practically vibrating with frustration. Only to be greeted with sex noises coming from Elena's room that she really wished she could brain bleach away from her memories. Caroline had vamp sped around the her room to gather up her studying materials and had been back out of the hallway in under thirty seconds, in her car leaving campus a few minutes later.
She'd sent Elena and Bonnie a text telling them she was going to hang out in Mystic Falls for the weekend, on the off chance that they'd notice she was gone.
The comfort of the house she'd grown up in, some solitude and junk food, had been the only balm she could think of to deal with her overall dissatisfaction with life.
At least it had the added bonus of some actual privacy for some quality alone time to work out the lingering frustrations. Her vibrator remains hidden in her bedside table in her mom's house. Caroline's very aware that Elena's a vampire, with heightened senses, and the idea of her overhearing, knowing exactly what Caroline's up to, is kind of mortifying.
But that's not what she needs to be thinking about right now.
"And I apologize for interrupting," Klaus tells her smoothly. "But I'm afraid I have a bit of a situation."
Caroline stills, her unease flooding back, "Are you okay?"
He lets out a soft hum, and there's a distinct note of pleasure in his reply, warmth that she knows is due to her concern, the way she'd expressed it without reservation. "I'm fine. But we've hit a snag with Kol's predicament and I believe I left something in Mystic Falls that might help."
Her relief is short lived and Caroline groans, "And let me guess, you want me to play errand girl?"
Klaus seems conciliatory, almost hesitant. "I know it a bit out of your way, and there's no need for you to do it right this moment but I thought perhaps you might like to visit your mother this weekend? Stop by my house while you're there…"
She sighs, "Not out of my way. I'm at my mom's right now. She's in Richmond though."
There's a pause, and she hears the creak of leather, pictures Klaus settling in. His next question is filled with curiosity, "Whitmore's not exactly London I know but surely it has better options than Mystic Falls on a Friday night? Why are you not taking advantage of them? Isn't that part of the college experience you desired?"
She fumbles and the pizza hits the floor. It's the most blatant reference to what had happened the last time Klaus was in Mystic Falls that he'd ever made and they've been talking regularly for months.
Klaus had kept his word, made no attempts to contact her even though Caroline is almost positive he keeps tabs. Things had just gotten to be way too much at the end of the last school year. Bonnie's death, Elena going off the rails, Stefan disappearing. Alaric had been looking to Caroline for how to vampire tips and she'd been knee deep in research about boundary spells that had seemed to go in circles. So she'd run, promising herself that it would just be for a little while, a tiny break. Told her mom and ditched her cell phone, hopped on a plane and ended up in London.
She'd thrown herself into the city, devoured guidebooks and talked to anyone who was willing and crossed her path, found spots that locals loved and tourists would be hard pressed to find. Pubs, museums, restaurants, monuments. A whole new world and she'd adored it.
On her last night she'd compelled herself a ridiculously fancy hotel room with an insane view of the city. Got herself a bottle of champagne and the priciest thing on the room service menu. And she'd called Klaus.
She hadn't been able to stop herself, had made the call before she could talk herself down.
He'd been surprised to hear from her, shock obvious when he'd answered. She'd told him where she was, what she'd been doing. The reasons behind it all.
A teeny part of her had been hoping he'd say something perfect and tempting, convince her to keep going, to leave Mystic Falls behind and finally see the world.
But he hadn't, had patiently listened to her ramble about what had driven her away from home, all the stress and pressure she felt, how afraid she was that she couldn't fix anything. And when she was spent, hands twisting in her robe as she'd waited for his reply, he'd lithely informed Caroline that her fears were nonsense, that he'd always bet on her and her stubbornness, and that he might have a suggestion or two.
Klaus was well versed in Traveller magic apparently. Told her he'd studied up because of Katherine, learned everything he could so she'd have none of her ancestors cards to play. Caroline had kicked herself for not thinking of that before.
It had taken her less than a month to break down the spell that kept vampires out of Mystic Falls with Klaus' long distance help. And she'd quickly turned her attention to Bonnie's predicament but Bon had managed yet another feat of badassery and had managed to bust herself and Damon out, shattering an entire prison world in the process.
And then things had returned to normal-ish. With the addition of occasional phone conversations with Klaus.
But no one knew about those.
Klaus is waiting patiently for her answer, she can hear the occasional clink of ice in a glass. She aims for casual, "Ever been to a frat party, Klaus? Trust me, they're overrated."
"I have actually. And I see your point."
Caroline takes a second to picture that, "Seriously? How many people died?"
He laughs quietly, "You know, I didn't count."
She'd not sure if he's joking or not, decides not to press. "Anyway, since I clearly have no life I'd be delighted to go break into your giant house. I'm totally going to snoop, by the way."
The threat doesn't seem to scare him. "Be my guest, sweetheart."
Half an hour later she's breaking in the door (with Klaus' permission), flashlight in one hand, phone in the other waiting for her call to connect. He said he'd disabled the security system and that she should have no trouble with the magical protections on the place (concerning, but she'd decided to trust him). Looking around Caroline thinks that she maybe should have asked Klaus if his place was haunted, because it's super creepy, cavernous and echoing with white sheets draped over the furniture. It's fairly clean, no visible dust or grime, and she assumes he has someone in to clean occasionally.
She doesn't wait for him to greet her when he picks up, "Okay so I am well aware that ghosts are totally a thing but please tell me that there's no unfriendly types lingering around your house. I can deal with a Caspar but my week has been way too terrible for a Bloody Mary."
"You're perfectly safe, love. I promise."
It's a true testament to how far they've come that she believes him.
"Well, I'm in. Which way am I going?"
"Upstairs. My bedroom."
That gives her pause and she almost runs into a sofa, bites her tongue to keep from yelping.
If Klaus noticed her momentary lack of grace he makes no comment. "Third floor, the first door on the right. In my closet. You'll have to tear up the carpet."
"Never leave home without my trusty Swiss army knife," Caroline mutters, mounting the stairs. "I was super unimpressed with it on my thirteenth birthday but I have to admit it's come in handy."
"From your mother, I'm guessing?"
"Nope, my dad. My mother got me pepper spray the year before. It took my dad longer to catch on to my discovery of boys since he was gone."
Caroline picks up the pace, deciding that anticipation will only make her feel more awkward. It's just a bedroom, she tells herself. Klaus isn't even in it. He's not even in the freaking state. The door's cracked and she pushes it wider, walking in and looking around curiously. It's huge, which she'd expected, taking up half of the level. More open than she'd have thought with big windows and a small terrace that looks out over the back of the property. The bedframe is draped in white and she peeks under the sheets. Is surprised that the frame's metal because she would have bet a pretty penny on wood.
"Snooping already, love? Wouldn't waiting until I'd hung up be more polite?"
It's pointed, more amused than anything, so Caroline doesn't feel bad about continuing her inspection of the room. "Your exact words were, 'be my guest,' and I took you seriously. Your bed is ginormous by the way and I really don't want to know why."
"I like my space."
Caroline snorts in disbelief, a vivid memory of how he'd wrapped himself around her in her clear mind, "Oh really? I remember you being really into snuggling."
"I wanted you to smell like me," he tells her, not a hint of shame in his tone. "For it to linger, for you to remember me."
Her breath stutters out, her hand dropping from the sheet. "That's kind of the problem," Caroline blurts out, closing her eyes as soon as the words are out.
God, she shouldn't have said that.
"What does that mean, Caroline?" Klaus asks. He's no longer playful, the words firm and she knows he'll push now that he's gotten something that big from her. He's taken what she's offered, done an excellent job at being her friend, if she's being honest. But she's always known that he'd never be content with just that. That Klaus played a long game and that he'd absorbed everything she'd ever said to him.
He'd shown her that she could trust him.
She considers how to answer, how to phrase what she means delicately. But she's never really bothered to be careful with Klaus so why start now?
Her confession comes out in a rush, "It means that the only decent orgasms I've had in the last year have been, uh… self-induced. And heavily influenced by certain memories."
Klaus is silent for a long moment, and Caroline listens to his breathing, holding her own as she waits for his response. "Of me," he finally rumbles, low and so very satisfied. It's not a question.
"Of us," she corrects, just to be contrary. Because she's never been the lie back and let a guy do all the work kind of girl and she totally deserved some credit for how mind blowingly good they'd been together.
She's about to crack a joke, get on with the business Klaus had asked for her help with (she did owe him one – more than one, really), do something to alleviate the odd tension that's sprung up. Klaus is more than a thousand miles away but the silence is so fraught, her heart beating wildly and her skin prickling in anticipation.
Of what she doesn't really know.
But Klaus evidently has some very clear ideas. She shudders when he speaks again, honey slow and gravelly, and she remembers what it had felt like to have him pressed against her, his voice in her ear and all of his skin hot against hers. "It must be so maddening, sweetheart. Tell me, did you go looking for relief at that party that sent you running for home? A way to relieve the need, just for a moment?"
This is edging somewhere dangerous and it will probably only make things worse. Caroline finds she doesn't care. She turns and leans against the bed, just in case the slight wobble of her knees gets more intense, presses her thighs together and holds back a moan.
It's so unfair that he can do this to her, that a few words can leave her so needy. She's dying to touch herself and they've barely begun. Clenching one hand around the edge of the mattress and using the other to grip the phone she swallows hard before responding, "I tried. Didn't work out so well but the blood was pretty good."
"What was his name?" Klaus demands softly.
"I have no idea."
"Good," he murmurs and she'll never admit that the possessiveness turns her on. "Are you on my bed, love?"
She licks her lips, barely recognizing her own voice when it comes out teasing and husky, "I wouldn't say on…"
"Would you like to be? I can't touch you, but that doesn't mean I can't help you with your frustrations. It would be my pleasure."
Her body's completely on board, nipples tight behind the lace of her bra, and she knows if she reached under her skirt she'd find her panties damp. Her mind wavers, weighing the idea of finally being able to concentrate, at least for a little while, against the possibility that just doing this once won't be enough. Because she has no doubt that Klaus will excel at phone sex. The voice alone gives him an edge.
It's a risk she's willing to take.
Caroline kicks off her shoes, and gets up, tearing away the bed's coverings. She piles the pillows up against the headboard, and makes herself comfortable. Finds herself wishing that the sheets smelled like Klaus, and not just his fabric softener.
"Comfortable?" he asks, deceptively innocent. She hadn't tried to hide what she'd been doing, and Klaus was more than smart enough to put the pieces together.
"It's a pretty great bed," Caroline tells him, letting her hand wander under her top, stroking her skin softly with a sigh.
"I liked it. Pity you'd never have lain in it when I was there. I find my imagination somewhat lacking."
It's a broad hint, completely unsubtle. Caroline thinks about mocking him but she likes that he's not trying too hard to be smooth. That he desires her enough to be upfront about it. Too many boys have made her jump through hoops before they'd admit to a shred of affection. A little certainty that she's what Klaus wants is welcome. She pulls her hair out of its topknot, discards her shirt over the side of the bed before taking a picture, her hair spread out on his pillows, the black lace of her bra visible.
It's one of her favorites. A sign that some higher power had her back today.
"Lovely," he murmurs, and Caroline closes her eyes. "I am endlessly fascinated by your skin, love. The way it felt under my fingertips, how it tasted. Touch it for me."
She doesn't even think about not obeying, running her hand over her stomach, and between her breasts, letting her palm brush over her nipple. She arches her back to get more contact, legs shifting restlessly.
"Are you warm, sweetheart? Is your skin prickling, hungry for more?"
Her yes is almost a moan, a hand cupping her breast as the other wanders lower.
"Take everything off, Caroline," Klaus grits out, and she hears rustling on the other end of the phone.
They're really going to do this.
"Are you?" she asks, sitting up slightly and shimmying out of her skirt and panties. She catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror across the room, impulsively snaps another photo and sending it. It's blurry, more suggestive than revealing, her flushed skin contrasting with the dark sheets she's spread out on.
Klaus groans, and Caroline grins, putting the phone on speaker and hurriedly discarding her bra.
"Are you going to touch yourself too, Klaus? For me?" she taunts, letting her hand delve between her thighs. She gasps as she parts her folds, fingers finding her clit, her next words strangled, "Have your memories been giving you trouble?"
His affirmative is a hiss, her name a raspy warning. She imagines him on a couch, rich leather, body taught and straining, the cords of his neck pulled tight.
Pictures herself astride him, sinks two fingers inside of her clenching body and imagines it's his cock.
"Are you riding your fingers, love? Tell me, are you wishing it was my tongue? The sound of your voice begging for more is one of my favorite memories. Your thighs quivering under my hands."
Ugh. She spreads her legs wider, her heels digging into the bed as she speeds up the motions of her hand, just beginning to pant. That might have been one of her favorites too. Klaus could be a dirty tease, but he'd totally made it worth it in the end.
She finds herself shaking her head, forgetting for a moment that he can't see her. "No. I'm on top."
His laugh is rusty sounding, "You did like that, didn't you?"
"I liked everything," she tells him, too wound up to feel self-conscious about the admittance. It's building, the peak that's been so elusive lately, the muscles in her stomach drawn in, hips working frantically against her hand as she twists in Klaus' sheets.
"You're close, aren't you, Caroline? Right on the edge. I can hear it. The greedy little sighs you make. Use both of your hands," he urges her. "Rub your clit, love. Come. Let me hear it."
It only takes a few more seconds, frantic passes over her clit as she fucks herself, back arched high as she comes with a cry.
His breaths are heavy, and she can hear skin on skin, slow and slick. She knows he's holding back.
That just won't do.
She's still coming down, tingling and swollen, clenching as the aftershocks ripple through her. She lets out a hiss as she brings her fingers back between her thighs, dipping inside until her finger's slick. She traces her clit gently, lets out a whimper. "I'm going to go again, Klaus. And you're going to come with me this time."
The noise he lets out is feral and harsh, almost a snarl. "Fuck, Caroline. Do it. I remember how sensitive you were. The noises you made as I licked you into a second climax. How you shifted under my mouth. Like you needed more but weren't sure if you could handle it. But you did. You liked it. It hardly took any time at all."
She circles slowly, almost lazy, letting the sensations roll over her. "You bit me the second time. Just as I went over. I'd heard about what it felt like but…" her breath hitches, eyes rolling back into her head, thoughts fleeing because nothing's more important than what she feels right now.
Klaus groans, deep and desperate, and seems to stop breathing. Caroline lets go, lets a second wave wash over her. It's gentler than the first, but no less satisfying, and she stretches contentedly, letting out a pleased mumble.
It's probably the best she's felt in months.
"Feel better, love?" he questions, sounding every bit as blissed out as Caroline feels. She wishes she could see his face.
"Much," she says, fighting a yawn.
It really had been a long week.
"I need to find the thing," she mumbles, fighting to keep her eyes open.
Klaus shushes her, fond and soothing. "Later. Rest, love. Kol's not going anywhere. Those pages will still be there in the morning."
Caroline doesn't have the will to argue as she gropes for a blanket. Her last thought, before she drifts off to sleep, is that maybe it wouldn't be the worst idea if she delivered them in person.