Notes: Oops, posted this on Tumblr a few weeks ago but forgot to put it here!
When Sunday Comes Around
(Prompt: klaroline + "i slept with you the other day and i didnt know we had a mutual friend and now we're sitting across each other for brunch and it's awkward because i ran out when you were asleep." Title from "Drake's Dad" by The Arkells. Rated T.)
Hurrying down the sidewalk, dodging people who seemed to think meander was an acceptable pace, one single thought is playing on a loop in Caroline's head.
Rebekah is going to kill her.
Slowly.
First, she's running so late and Rebekah hates to be kept waiting. She's also never shy about expressing her annoyance. About anything, no matter how minor and she won't think half an hour is minor especially once she sees how Caroline's dressed.
Totally Caroline's second strike.
The heels are so not Sunday brunch appropriate and layering the button up she'd stolen under a very tiny little black dress wasn't going to fool anyone. Caroline expects to be hearing about this for years. Possibly decades. It might even be an anecdote that Rebekah tells at her wedding. You know, if Caroline ever finds a boyfriend who doesn't turn out to be the worst.
Maybe she could blame her most recent awful ex for her lateness? Rebekah had been the one who'd encouraged Caroline to go out last night. She had said that she was sorry she couldn't come but she was expecting her brother early in the morning. Bekah had been very firm on the phone, insisting that Caroline deserved to have a good time and forget about, "that broody wanker." Told Caroline to have a couple cocktails for her, to find someone pretty and easy, and not skimp on the details later.
Caroline had followed that advice. Maybe a little too well.
Which led to her current predicament. She refused to call it a walk of shame – there was nothing shameful about the number of orgasms she'd had last night – but Caroline was certain that Rebekah wouldn't be quite so circumspect. She just hoped that Rebekah would keep her mouth shut in front of her brother.
Turning up less than fresh from a one night stand was really not the first impression Caroline was looking to make. Hopefully Rebekah's brother would just think she had a questionable fashion sense. She doubted he'd get close enough to smell her, thankfully. She'd spritzed on a (tasteful!) layer of perfume but was still pretty sure she smelled like great sex. She hadn't been willing to risk a shower and a possible awkward conversation if the guy she'd gone home with were to wake up.
Even if he'd exceeded all expectations.
But she couldn't be thinking about that right now.
Caroline's never met Nik but she knows that he's Bekah's favorite so she'd been a little nervous about the impending meal even before this morning's issues. He'd only visited once in the years she'd known Rebekah but it had been during Caroline's semester abroad so their paths had never crossed. She's never even seen a photo (though she doubts he'll break the Mikaelson trend of being a super-hot hottie) as Rebekah had often lamented his ability to dodge cameras or screw up perfectly lovely photos by glowering as if he was plotting a murder.
She only hopes he's less creepy than Kol. Last time that brother had visited he'd been lucky to escape with his balls intact. Caroline's knee had itched to do some smashing after the insane amount of filthy innuendos he'd tossed her way.
Rebekah had seemed every bit as annoyed by them as Caroline had been though. Caroline doubted that her favorite brother would be cut from the same smirky perverted cloth.
Pausing outside the door to the restaurant Caroline tugs down her skirt, wishing for just a little extra length. Cursing that it doesn't along with the fact that her panties hadn't survived the eager hands of the man who she'd spent last night with. Her efforts are futile, Caroline exposes the exact same, mildly scandalous, amount of thigh when she straightens and she blows out an annoyed breath. Peeking through the window she can see that the crowd is thin and she easily spots Rebekah. Her posture is stiff and there's a little crinkle between her eyebrows, a telltale thinning of her lips.
She's definitely pissed. Caroline needs to quit stalling.
She bites back a groan and squares her shoulders. She offers a practice smile to the man who holds the door open for her (kindly ignoring his wandering eyes) and breezes into the restaurant. It's a place she and Bekah go to nearly every week so the hostess doesn't even blink when Caroline walks right in. Rebekah spots her immediately and her face darkens into a scowl that might make a lesser woman turn and walk out.
Caroline is not a lesser woman.
She turns her smile up a notch, and Rebekah's eyes narrow, drifting over Caroline's outfit. The table's second occupant begins to turn and Caroline, who'd only been able to make out the back of his head, nearly stumbles on her spindly heels when she sees his face.
Third fucking strike. Game over. She was beyond dead.
He looks tired, the stubble on his face heavier than it had been last night. The eyes, those dimples, the ridiculously tempting (and talented) mouth are unmistakable.
Her first thought? It's so unfair that he'd managed to beat her to brunch considering he'd still been sleeping peacefully when she'd tiptoed out of his hotel room. Stupid public transportation. Caroline would bet good money that he hadn't been leered at the whole way here.
She's not exactly proud of her second thought, a brief fantasy about sprinting from the room and feigning some kind of emergency. One that would keep her busy for the next couple weeks. How long had Rebekah said her brother was supposed to be staying with her again? Caroline couldn't recall.
She quickly dismisses it, her resolve hardening as she watches a slow, knowing grin spread across last night's fling's annoyingly handsome face. He tips his head to the side, and there's something challenging in the gesture that makes Caroline bristle.
And wait a minute, he'd said his name was Klaus. Had he honestly fake named her?!
That would not stand.
She knows her smile is too sharp, doubts her building fury is lost on either of her two brunch companions. Gritting her teeth Caroline calls on all the fake pageant sweetness she'd perfected once upon a time. She takes the last few steps to the table, pulling out a chair. "Morning! Sorry I'm late. Traffic."
She directs it at Rebekah, ignoring the man to her right. Only proper, since they'd never been introduced, right?
"It's 9 AM on a Sunday," Rebekah observes dryly, reaching for a coffee carafe. "There is no traffic. At least not from your place." She pauses as she pours, politely offering Caroline the cup. Caroline takes it, busies herself with cream and sugar. Scrounges for some optimism and crosses her fingers that she just might be home free.
She's not. At all. Rebekah's just getting warmed up.
"But something tells me you didn't roll out of your bed this morning," Rebekah notes. Her tone is innocent, sly, her eyes dancing with mischief. And if they were alone Caroline would totally be down for some good girl talk. She'd got some juicy stuff to share and it really is too bad that the details are going to revolt Rebekah since they are very dirty and feature her favorite brother heavily. Bekah's voice drops conspiratorially and she leans across the table, "Did you at least leave a note? Thanking your suitor for his hospitality?"
Caroline's left groping for a reply and she really wishes she'd been quicker when a too familiar voice answers for her the familiar voice amused, "She did not, as a matter of fact. I was quite disappointed."
Her head snaps to the side, ignoring the choking sound Rebekah makes. "Seriously?" she hisses.
He has the nerve to shrug, and to settle back into his chair, "What? I had a lovely time last night, Caroline. And I'm quite certain you did too. Was a goodbye too much to ask for? Makes a man feel cheap when the lady he put so much effort into impressing slips away with nary a word."
"You weren't that impressive," Caroline bites back. A lie, one she cringes at, because she knows he's going to call her on, his eyes flare hot and he stiffens, his ire clear.
Caroline's not sure if Rebekah interrupting is a good thing or not. "No," she says firmly, a hand slapping down hard on the table. The china rattles and they get several interested looks from surrounding tables. "No," Rebekah repeats, albeit more quietly, "I do not want to hear another word about whatever you two did or did not do last night. Not now, not ever."
"Oh, don't be such a prude, Bekah darling. We're all grown-ups here, are we not?"
Rebekah's expression grows spiteful, a sneer crossing her face, "Does that mean you'd like to hear the details of my sex life, Niklaus? You've not met Enzo left but I can assure you he's most adventurous."
Caroline finds her eyes flitting back and forth between the siblings, kind of fascinated by the stare off. Then something clicks, "Wait, Niklaus?"
Maybe he hadn't lied.
Klaus breaks the stare off to meet her eyes, "Our parents are nothing if not pretentious, love. My full name is only used by my stuffy older brothers. It's usually Nik to Bekah and the younger ones, Klaus to everyone else."
"Oh," is all Caroline manages. He doesn't say anything else, and he doesn't look away. Caroline fights the urge to squirm, a snippet of a memory dancing to the front of her brain. He hadn't let her close her eyes last night either. Had demanded, hoarse and insistent, that she look at him while she fell apart.
God, she hopes she's not blushing.
Rebekah makes a small noise of disgust, picking up her menu and putting it in front of her face. Caroline rolls her eyes at the dramatics. Klaus smiles, a soft laugh coming from him. He hold out his hand, "Truce, sweetheart? In the interest of getting thorough breakfast without having to listen to Rebekah whine incessantly?"
"Shut it, Nik," Rebekah grumps. "And you are definitely paying. For breakfast and perhaps for a few sessions with a therapist for my emotional trauma." The look she shoots Caroline makes it clear that she's not off the hook. That they will be having words. Caroline just hopes that the conversation, when they get to it, is one where there's plenty of alcohol.
Klaus ignores Rebekah, watching Caroline expectantly. Hesitantly, she holds out her hand, tries not to react to the feel of his skin on hers once she's in his grip. It's only been hours, after all. Not nearly enough time for her to forget how good he had felt against her, the lovely sensations those long callused fingertips were capable of drawing out of her. Klaus is fast, dipping his head and brushing a kiss over her pulse point. It races and Caroline fights back a gasp, yanking her hand away and shooting him a dirty look.
He grins, unrepentant and reaches for his own menu. Settling back in his chair he speaks again, deceptively mild, "I'm afraid I'm going to need that shirt back, however. As much as I like the look of you in my clothes it's the only one like it I've packed. Can't show up to my job interview on Wednesday with a t-shirt under my suit, can I?"
Right. She remembers why he was visiting now. Rebekah had mentioned it in passing, some fancy job at an art gallery that he was apparently a shoe in for. "I'll get it to you by Tuesday," she tells him, making an effort to sound polite. Maybe, just maybe, they could push through and this somehow wouldn't be the most awkward brunch in history.
Unfortunately, it seems like Klaus can't resist the urge to be a smart ass. "Thank you, love. Can I assume you remember where my hotel is? Getting there was a bit of a blur for me last night. You were very…distracting. I can't imagine it was much clearer for you. And we've already established that you left with an undue amount of haste. Shame, since I had plans."
She refuses to think about what those plans might have been, suddenly very aware of her lack of underwear. It's very tempting to search for his foot under the table and drive her stiletto into it. Caroline manages to refrain, offering him a tight smile. "I'll manage. It's not blurry at all."
This time a waiter interrupts whatever denial Klaus was about to make. Caroline resolves to leave him a kick ass tip.
It's terrible but Caroline sends up a quick prayer to whoever might be listening that Klaus doesn't get the job he's gunning for. She has a sneaking suspicion that having him around on a regular basis would not be good for her mental health.