Notes: Since we're in a bit of a drabble drought due to the upcoming klarolineauweek (which is kind of my fault?) I wrote a small thing to help ease it. Going to try for another this weekend.

Kind Of Hectic

(For Angelikah! Prompt: "I bought dick popsicles as a joke but you look really hot how you're sucking on that fuck." Smut. Title from "Fantasy" by Mariah Carey.)

Caroline Forbes was far from the worst housemate Klaus had ever had. No, that honor went to Kol. They'd lived together for three months after Kol had finished university and it was a miracle they'd both survived the experience. Christmas with the family had been quite frosty that year though they'd mostly gotten over it in the years since. Absence definitely managed to make the heart grow fonder where irritating, boundary pushing, siblings were concerned.

He'd had a string of bad luck after Kol though none of his tenants had been nearly as terrible. There were little things that each did that made them completely incompatible with Klaus and how he preferred to live. There was the bloke with the terrible brother and the girlfriend whose eyes wandered to, and lingered on, said brother often. Josh, who was far too friendly (particularly in the morning) and talked incessantly. Hayley, who had a pack of friends with little manners and large appetites, all of whom were fond of camping out in Klaus' backyard like they owned it.

Klaus had been close to giving up and had been putting off advertising his spare room. It's not as if he needed the extra income. It was merely convenient. His work took him away often and unexpectedly sometimes for an unpredictable amount of time. Having someone around to mind the house, look after his dog, so he didn't have to constantly scramble last minute (or persuade Rebekah to stop by – that got expensive) while attempting to pack and brief his team, just seemed to work better for Klaus.

Then he'd met Caroline.

Almost a year ago now, at a pub he frequented. She'd been out of place, dressed far more nicely than anyone else in the room, her dress revealing miles of toned leg. Also notable had been the way she'd been sniffling into a shooter of vodka. The place had been packed but the seat next to her remained empty, various patrons shooting her nervous or concerned glances. Klaus, no stranger to dramatic blondes, and sensing an opportunity to get quick service, had snagged the vacant stool. He'd ordered himself bourbon and her a glass of orange juice. He'd nudged it over to her, snagged her undrunk shot and poured it in, "Awful stuff," he'd murmured. "Can understand why you'd not want to drink it, even if you look like you need it."

She'd shot him a glare, but her red rimmed eyes had made it rather less ferocious than she'd probably meant it (and he'd learned since that Caroline could be plenty terrifying if the mood struck her) but she'd stirred the drink and taken a sip. "I should probably dump this in your lap but you're kind of right. It seemed the most expedient way to get really drunk. Always did the trick when I was in college."

"I'd not be able to choke down the cheap beer I was fond of back then either," Klaus told her. It got a wan smile and he found himself returning it, idly wondering what it would take to make hers a little more sincere. His phone had buzzed and he'd fished it out of his pocket, reading the text from Marcel who evidently had a work emergency he couldn't tear himself away from. Klaus had debated leaving her to her wallowing but found himself unenthused with the prospect. Deciding he did not had anything more diverting to do Klaus had propped his elbow on the bar, turning slightly to face her. She'd startled slightly when he'd stuck out his hand, "My name is Klaus and it seems as if I am without company. Care to tell me what's got you out of sorts, love? Save me from looking like one of those pathetic souls who drink alone?"

She'd swirled her drink, raised a brow, "Pathetic like me, you mean?"

Klaus had shrugged, "I'm sensing extenuating circumstances. Besides, given another couple of minutes I'm sure some other man would have sat down and tried his luck with the beautiful blonde sitting alone."

"Is this you trying your luck?" she'd asked, leaning slightly away as if looking for an escape route.

Klaus had shaken his head, unoffended. Any other night, had he seen her in that dress, he probably would have. But seducing vulnerable women had never been his bag. There was something unsporting about it and Klaus did enjoy a challenge. He'd also rather a woman's attention not be split when they were in his bed and getting to know each other in a private fashion. Call it ego. "'Afraid not. I just wanted a drink. Say the word and I'll be on my merry way."

The woman relaxed slightly, her eyes darting around. Following her gaze Klaus noted that several of the stares directed her way had turned decidedly speculative, even lustful, now that she no longer seemed to be miserable. With a sigh she'd angled her body towards him. "I'm Caroline. And I've had the worst day."

The story had come spilling out. She had been all set to move in with her boyfriend the next week and had gone to his office to surprise him at lunch. Had walked in on him with his assistant doing things that were not appropriate for business hours. After storming out she had tried to talk to her landlord about renewing her lease only to find out he'd already rented her place out. She'd then confided that she was attempting to work up the Dutch courage to call her friend Kat – who'd never liked her boyfriend and was not the type to be shy about 'I told you so's' – and tell her that she'd be needing her couch for a couple of weeks.

Klaus had always blamed the bourbon he'd imbibed during her (gesture filled and passionate) story telling for what had happened next. "Or," he'd said, "You could move in with me." Her eyes had gone wide, her mouth falling open in shock, and he'd cringed a little at the lack of finesse he'd delivered the offer with. He'd held up his hands, "It's something I do regularly, I promise. My last housemate moved out a month ago. Rent's cheap for the area. In exchange you'd just need to manage things when I'm away for work. I have a very spoiled dog, you see. I'd be happy to put you in contact with a few of my past tenants."

Caroline's mouth had closed, her eyes turning calculating. "If this is some creepy ass long play pick up, Klaus, I swear to God…"

Her eyes had dropped, lingering near his lap, and Klaus had clearly gotten the implied threat to his manhood. "It isn't," he'd assured her. "Would you like to come and see the place?"

She'd seemed to struggle for a moment before she'd finally slumped back, knocking back the last of the cocktail she'd been drinking. "Why not? I really don't want to have to live with Kat's smugness about calling a douchebag a douchebag way before I realized it."

Caroline had popped by the next day, and she'd clearly had to make a great effort to seem casual. Her eyes had lit up upon seeing the spacious walk in closet in her room and she'd been immediately smitten with his dog (Jupiter might be a mutt but he was a shameless flirt and a sucker for a pretty face). She'd moved in a week later and, after a slight adjustment period, they mostly rubbed along rather well.

Completely platonically. Something Klaus often laments.

It's his turn to do the grocery shopping and, as usual, Caroline's contributions to the list are very specific. She writes down the precise flavor and brand whenever possible. It irks Klaus, perhaps irrationally, because after a year he's well aware of her preferences. He's often tempted to be petty, and deliberately buy the wrong thing, but has so far managed to refrain.

His last stop is the freezer section and he immediately sees that Caroline's preferred brand of popsicles is out of stock. She'll only eat the real fruit ones, claims that the idea that 'pink' could be a flavor is ridiculous. He debates grabbing her a pint of Strawberry Haagen Dazs (well aware that the popsicles are a paltry placeholder for her real love - ice cream) but knows that if he does he'll be subjected to the torturous sight of Caroline sweaty and clad in clingy Lycra, flushed and fresh from a run, tomorrow.

Something he'd rather avoid because it's a real struggle to talk himself out of pressing her to a counter and peeling her clothes away so he can taste her skin.

He leaves without any substitutes, makes a mental note to stop by later in the week to see if they've been restocked.

That should have been the end of it.

Until a very loud poster in a shop's window happened to catch Klaus' attention at an intersection. The tiny devil on his shoulder wouldn't let him resist the product it promised. They weren't the brand Caroline liked but they seemed to have something close to her preferred flavor. What harm could picking some up do?

Klaus probably should have reconsidered when he realized that the imaginary devil sounded an awful lot like Kol.

"What are these?" Caroline asks as they're clearing away the dinner dishes, her tone an interesting mix of bewilderment and distaste.

"Popsicles," Klaus tells her succinctly, bending to hide his smile as he loaded the dishwasher. "The store was out of your specified variety but luckily I saw those advertised on the way home. Made with real fruit and they're organic. I do believe the business was local as well so really I am quite the conscientious consumer today."

"They're shaped like cocks," Caroline says slowly.

"I noticed," Klaus shoots back glibly. "If you think about it a popsicle is rather phallic anyway, isn't it? So really, what's the difference?"

"Where did you even get these?"

"Little shop on the corner of Fifth and Pine. Next to a bakery. I forget the name…"

"Frisky Business," Caroline says absently.

Klaus can't resist turning to look at her, doesn't try to fight the smirk or the leer, "Familiar with it, are you? Do you often find yourself with a need for adult toys, Caroline?"

She rolls her eyes, meets his without a hint of shame, "I've been single for almost a year, Klaus. A girl has needs."

Klaus sucks in a breath, having not expected her to admit such a thing so easily. He's immediately assaulted by images, has a million (probably inappropriate) questions dying to burst from the tip of his tongue. He'd wandered around the shop while his order had been wrapped up and he could easily conjure the picture of Caroline, writhing on her bed, any number of items pressed against her clit. Did she play with herself while he was around? Trying desperately to keep quiet so he wouldn't know what she was up to?

Klaus shakes himself, pulls out of his fantasies and blinks at Caroline. She's noted his preoccupation, of course. The wicked smile curving her lips tells him she's accurately guessed the source of it. He fumbles for one of the kitchen stools, sitting down in as casual a manner as he can muster. His body had reacted to his thoughts, and he only hopes Caroline hadn't noted the growing tightness of his jeans.

"Do you want one?" she asks him, altogether too innocently. Klaus is instantly suspicious.

He shakes his head and Caroline shrugs, taking one of the popsicles from the box before putting the rest away. He half expects her to leave the kitchen, head for the living room or even her bedroom (allowing Klaus to make a quick escape to his own so he can consider this new information about Caroline in greater depth. Perhaps in his shower?). She surprises him, boosting herself onto the counter across from him. She crosses her legs and Klaus' eyes are drawn to the motion. It's a hot day, she's wearing her usual floral cotton sundress and she seems unconcerned about how much thigh she's revealing.

"Did you buy anything else?" she asks him conversationally. "I bought a few things for couples but DirtbagEx was always kind of weirded out by toys no matter how small. Was super offended by my fave dildo. He probably would have died if I suggested a cock ring."

Klaus' mouth feels dry and he really wishes he hadn't left his beer behind when he'd sat down. Caroline casually talking about sex toys (she had a favorite dildo? Implying there were several to choose from?) was not how he'd expected this evening to go. He'd assumed she'd get a little riled by the popsicles, that she'd bristle and maybe blush a bit. They'd have one of the little spats that he so enjoyed (ideally leading to Caroline easing up on her grocery list micromanagement) and eventually he'd coax her to laugh.

Instead she seems to take a certain amount of glee in observing him and Klaus is kicking himself for his flustered state. He should have known something would go awry. Caroline rarely reacted exactly as he expected her to. Something Klaus generally enjoyed.

Her gaze is expectant, her feet swinging idly as she waits for him to answer. Klaus clears his throat. "I did not," he manages neutrally.

"Just browsed?" she teases as she peels the paper wrapper off her popsicle. "Well, if you ever want to go back, let me know. I'm a platinum member and I get 15% off. Sometimes they even throw in lube samples. I've yet to find a flavored one that actually tastes all that good but it never hurts to try."

He's barely begun to process that information before she's bringing the popsicle up to her mouth, tongue darting out to lick along the side. She eyes him as she swirls her tongue around the very realistically shaped head, letting out a pleased little hum. "Mmm, this is actually really good, Klaus. Thank you." And then she wraps her lips around the frozen treat and sucks.

Really, there's only so much a man can take.

Klaus is out of his seat, barely noticing the stool clattering to the floor behind him as he rounds the island. He snatches the popsicle from her hand and tosses it in the direction of the sink before he grasps her hips, yanks her to the edge of the counter, smothering the surprised squeak she makes with his lips. She doesn't fight him, sinks into the kiss eagerly, her lips parting and her legs twining around his hips. She's at the perfect height, perched as she is, and Caroline moans as she grinds against his cock through his jeans, encouraged by his hands on her. He kisses her like he's been wanting to for months, deep and frantic and making up for lost time. When she tears her mouth away her lips are swollen, her eyes heavy lidded and dark. "Not turned off by sex toys?" she murmurs huskily, a glint of mischief evident. "Good to know."

Klaus huffs out a laugh, dragging his lips down her throat. She shudders when he hits the curve of her shoulder, her head thunking back against the cabinets when he bites lightly. "Definitely not turned off. Intrigued by the use of the plural." He tugs on the strap of her dress questioningly and Caroline drops her hands from his shoulders to make it easier for him to peel it down to her waist.

"Sex toys are kind of like tattoos, Klaus. You either have none or you have a box under your bed."

"Let me guess, you have a box?"

"Plus a couple under the sink in my bathroom."

Klaus bites his lip to fight back the groan, though it's more difficult when Caroline arches back to get at the clasp of her bra. She discards it and he's just reaching out to touch, wants to get his mouth on the stiff peaks of her nipples but she catches his hands, letting her legs fall from around him. She hops down from the counter, and slips her hands under his shirt. She pushes it up, wiggling her hips until her dress falls. Klaus lifts his arms obligingly. Caroline's eyes are warm and appreciative on his newly bared torso, and her fingertips trace his skin maddeningly lightly for torturous minutes. She leans in and he feels her lips brush against the birds inked on his shoulder, "Hey, you can't blame me. Your aversion to shirts has been really inspirational."

He swallows harshly, almost chokes when she swiftly drops to her knees. She attacks his belt with nimble fingers, whipping it though the loops and discarding it quickly. "Caroline," Klaus manages to force out, low and strained, reaching out to grip the countertop behind him.

She ignores him, pressing teasing kisses to his abdomen, yanking his jeans down and drawing her nails lightly down his thighs.

Klaus leans more heavily into the kitchen island as he kicks his pants aside. She ghosts a hand over the front of his boxer briefs, shaping him gently through the fabric. He locks his knees, clenching his teeth together to keep from asking her for more. Caroline grins up at him, "You did ruin my popsicle."

That startles a strangled laugh from him, though it's cut off when she frees his cock, repeating her earlier motions with the frozen treat. Klaus stills when she licks a broad stripe up the underside of his cock, shudders when her tongue strokes teasing patterns just underneath the head. Is unable to help the hoarse grunt that spills from him when she sucks him into her mouth.

He watches her until he can't anymore, the sight of her lips stretched around him, clearly enjoying pushing him closer to the edge, coupled with just how incredible her mouth feels, has his control fraying at an embarrassing rate. His head tips back, eyes falling closed. Caroline makes a displeased little noise, the vibration of it sends a jolt through him and his stomach clenches painfully in an effort to hold back. She pulls away from him, the warmth of her hands and mouth leaving him altogether. His protest comes out garbled, her name the only thing intelligible. "Am I boring you?" she asks pointedly.

He rolls his eyes, not something he'd ever done before Caroline. He reaches down and tugs her to her feet, threading his hands through her hair. She allows him to pull her closer, and her eyelids flutter when he presses his thigh in between hers. She grinds against him lightly lips parting and Klaus can feel that her knickers are damp. One of his hands smooths up her side, and she presses her breast into his hand when he cups her. Klaus forces himself to focus. He's certainly had fantasies about Caroline in this kitchen. And he's more than game to enact them. Later. "You've never bored me, sweetheart. I just had all sorts of plans for the first time I had you. Don't want you ruining all of them."

Caroline loops her arms around his shoulders, leaning into him, "What about my plans?" she murmurs, leaning in to press her mouth to his throat.

"So you've thought of this?" Klaus asks, not making any attempt to hide the note of smugness.

Caroline looks distinctly unimpressed as she pulls back, tugs on the hair at the nape of his neck in a way that sends a new stirring of interest straight to his cock. She rolls her hips against his and Klaus grits out a curse. "Yes," she deadpans. "Obviously. What did you think inspirational meant? I think about you often, Klaus. About your hands and your mouth and the kind of filthy things you might say. In my bed, in my shower, usually accompanied with a high end vibrator. Sometimes even in your bed when you're out of town."

He stills, hands tightening on her skin, new images flashing through his mind. "Caroline," he mutters warningly.

"What?" she blinks at him, lifting a shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. "It smells like you. Really enriches the fantasy. Care for a demonstration? Or was that not in your plans?"

It hadn't been. But it definitely was now.

"My bed, five minutes," he tells her seriously. "Bring your toys, love. I might have a few things of my own we can play with."

Now, where had he put those handcuffs?