Notes: Hello! I hope everyone is safe and healthy and surviving their self-isolation! The last few weeks have been a bit of a creativity sucker for me. I'm lucky enough to still be working but working from home, on a laptop for 8 hours a day, has meant that pulling out my laptop to write has been rare. This weekend I find myself in the mood for some distraction fluff so I reblogged a prompt list on Tumblr, we'll see how it goes.
The Beat Goes On
(Prompt: "Welcome back. Now fucking help me." + Coworker AU + "Sit in my lap" Rated T.)
When Caroline steps on the bus, she stops immediately, only halfway up the steps. She surveys the scene – Kol, Marcel, Klaus, plus about a half dozen fans. Her eyes turn murderous. She hitches her bag higher on her shoulder, yanks her suitcase up the rest of the way, and storms through the living area. She's whipped the curtain that hides their bunks closed behind her before Klaus can snag her attention.
A pity. He'd been hoping for her help.
He's in no mood for company either. Partying all night is such a rockstar cliché – and completely unrealistic considering they need to be on the road in a few hours, then unloading their gear in the next city a few hours after that.
It's their first headlining tour. They can't quite afford a complete crew. It's going well, with most shows sold out. They've had to put in a rush order for more merch. Klaus has high hopes the next outing will be a little more luxurious.
Higher hopes that one day they'll have more than one bus. He's willing to share with Caroline. Preferably something with an actual bedroom – not the claustrophobic stack of cots they're currently enduring.
He can't complain too much. Their current accommodations are far superior to the unreliable van and dingy motels they'd piled into on their first tour. They'd been the first of several supporting acts, had considered themselves lucky when they'd turned a profit by the end.
That profit had bought some decent recording equipment, the EP they'd put out after doing well on Spotify. A better tour had followed. Then another. Press, photoshoots. Then interest from a few labels.
Klaus has only spent a few nights of the last few years in his own bed. He has no regrets.
He sets his beer down, stands. Pretends not to notice when one of the women who'd been inching closer and closer swipes it immediately.
He'll have to check eBay tomorrow. See what the going rate for his saliva is. He doesn't bother to excuse himself.
Caroline's stowing her belongings. Klaus would bet they have the cleanest tour bus in the history of the music industry. Caroline's a bit of a psychotic neat freak. Over the years she has doled out vicious punishments when a "Close Cohabitation Survival Rule" (there's an extensive list - laminated and prominently posted) is violated.
Kol had been the slowest to learn. To drive the lesson home, Caroline had snipped out the back pockets of every pair of trousers he'd packed. She' then hidden all of his underwear. Had bribed, threatened or cajoled every man on tour not to offer a spare pair.
She'd timed it flawlessly, Kol hadn't had time to run out to a shop, and they hadn't been significant enough to have anyone they could send on an errand. Kol had done a show with his arse – clad only in a pair of Caroline's lime green lace boy shorts, hanging out of a ruined pair of jeans. The pictures appeared online within minutes, Kol will likely be answering questions about his preference in underwear for the rest of his natural life.
Caroline's plots had done the trick. Their belongings tend to stay organized, their floors are never sticky, and the bathroom is perfectly sanitary.
Her bunk's curtain is closed, but Klaus sees a faint glow, knows she's not asleep. He yanks the curtain aside.
He's willing to risk stoking Caroline's anger. He's exceedingly good at soothing her.
Caroline glares and tries to pull the fabric out of Klaus' grip. "Go away."
He gauges how much she means it, finds little heat in her tone. And she shifts over willingly when he climbs in next to her, lifts her legs so he can curl his under them. Caroline had showered at the venue, had her hair braided and off her face. She wears an old pair of sweats (his) and a tank top. Klaus attempts to coax, "Come out and have a drink."
Caroline's nose wrinkles, "Pass."
"One drink."
"I'm tired. It's crowded."
Weak excuses. "You'll miss the show."
That piques her interest. Caroline hates to be out of the loop.
"What show?"
"Our lovely manager should arrive shortly, shouldn't she? Why else would Kol have three girls who's name's he hasn't bothered to learn draped all over him?"
She twists her head to stare at him, and Klaus is sorely tempted by how close her mouth is. It would be so easy to close the minuscule gap and press his lips to hers, to stroke the spot on her neck that always makes her eyes roll back and her hips shift close.
But they don't do that anymore.
"Are you telling me," Caroline says slowly, disbelief etched in every word. "That Kol's concocted some teen soap style plot to make Bonnie jealous?"
"I did try to tell him it was unwise." Though, if he's honest, Klaus hadn't tried that hard.
Caroline presses the heel of her hand to her forehead, a frustrated groan spilling from her throat. "I have been trying so hard to convince Bonnie he's serious. He's going to ruin all my hard work."
"All the more reason for you to come out, hmm? Can't have all of your most excellent matchmaking going to waste."
He's not even upset when she elbows him in the stomach because he knows he's won. He slides out of the bunk, and Caroline twists, "I need to find my phone and stall Bon," she mutters. Her tanktop slides up as she rummages through her blankets, and Klaus clasps his hands behind his back because the urge to run his hand over the smooth skin of her hip might be stronger than he is.
He has a plan, well thought out, and practically foolproof. He cannot rush. Caroline pauses when she notices Klaus watching, balances on her elbow, and shoves his shoulder with her free hand. "Get out there. Make sure no one does anything too stupid."
"No promises." Klaus knows better. He's known Kol since birth. Reckless acts of stupidity are one of his brother's specialties.
Caroline's found her phone, has settled on her stomach. She's frantically texting, so Klaus exits.
He immediately notes that several bottles of liquor have made their way out. That more people Klaus doesn't recognize have joined them. Kol's lost some clothing, has got one arm raised high, splashes of what Klaus is reasonably sure is bourbon dripping down, onto his bare chest.
It has all the makings of a disaster.
Klaus grabs a bottle of water. Tosses a towel in Kol's direction. Keeps a sharp eye on both the entrance to the bus and the curtain that hides the sleeping area.
Unfortunately, for some reason, Caroline is slow to appear. Kol's is at his jittery, exuberant drunk stage, unable to sit still or focus on a topic for longer than a few moments. He's telling stories that are only half true, gesturing wildly. A few of their visitors are enthralled. Marcel had slipped outside with some people, Klaus hears his laugh drift in through the open windows occasionally.
He'd bet a large sum of money Marcel's location is strategic and at Caroline's direction. He's the last obstacle Bonnie will need to pass.
Two women have boxed Klaus in. They don't seem to mind that he has no interest in the conversation they insist on prolonging. They giggle delightedly at his clipped answers. Klaus has already taken photos, signed skin. Has his fingers crossed their not the type to rush off to a tattoo parlor.
When Caroline emerges from the back, Klaus has a moment of déjà vu. She barely notices Kol; her attention focused on him, and the people invading his personal space. She's furious again, more so, Klaus thinks.
He's always been confident in his plan but won't say no to the ego boost her obvious jealousy provides.
It's a small space; she's in front of him in a few steps. Klaus smiles up at Caroline, grabs her wrist. She appears confused for a second – it's been ages since he's touched her in front of another person.
He hasn't attempted it since being photographed, having the images splashed all over social media and picked apart, became a real possibility. Caroline had begun shying away once the tweets and the Instagram comments had started coming in. Some positive, a lot negative. Klaus had followed her lead. Had figured he'd let her get used to the fame, that he'd just have to convince her that they could be together publically without ruining what they have privately.
He drags her hand to his mouth, distracts her by pressing a chaste kiss to the back of it. He hears a gasp to his left, but he doesn't care, tugs harder until Caroline loses her balance.
She lands in his lap, and one of the women leaps to her feet with a yelp. Convenient, as it gives Klaus more room to maneuver. He wraps his arm around Caroline's waist and settles her more comfortably, her side resting against his chest. He pitches his voice loud enough to be heard clearly by everyone in the room, "A bit clumsy tonight, aren't you? It's fine, sit in my lap."
The woman who'd swiped his beer bottle is either drunk enough not to mind her tongue or unconcerned with basic manners. "Are you two?" She lifts a hand in a gesture that's both vague and slightly lascivious.
Caroline squirms, but Klaus squeezes her hip, cutting off her denial with a whisper in her ear. "You took ages. Welcome back, now fucking help me."
She pinches his stomach in retaliation. Klaus holds back a wince. Caroline ignores it, turns on the charm, smiling warmly at their nosy questioner. "Nope. We've just known each other for ages. Spent way too much time in tight spaces. Not a lot of boundaries when you've spent months crammed in a van, you know?"
Klaus could comment about the private time they'd managed to enjoy in that van occasionally, but Caroline's fingernails are sharp. He doesn't mind wearing their imprints, but he'd prefer to earn those marks pleasurably.
"So, you're just friends?"
"Bon-Bon!" Kol shouts, interrupting Caroline's response.
(Probably a good thing. Klaus isn't entirely sure he trusts himself to stick to his timeline if Caroline tried to claim they were just anything while sitting on his lap and wearing his clothes.)
He's surprised when Caroline relaxes against him, rather than leaping to his feet. Pleased, too. Her arm drapes around his shoulders, her fingertips tangling in his necklaces. She watches the scene unfolding in front of her.
Her touch is familiar, missed. Klaus closes his eyes to enjoy it while he can.