A/N: Hi! So, thank you so much for the wonderful comments about Part 1! I've replied to them at the bottom of this chapter. Again, this is a collabo fic with sneakercladbrunette on tumblr, so do let her know of your thoughts and send some love too!
Enjoy!
xXx
CeruleanBlues
Blue Jeans
Part 2
You were sorta punk rock, I grew up on hip hop
But you fit me better than my favorite sweater, and I know
That love is mean, and love hurts
But I still remember that day we met in December, oh baby!
One day.
Two days.
Three days.
A week.
He was there every morning, promptly at 8—an hour after her shift started—seated at his usual table, and alternating between pancakes and toast. It drove Anna up the wall from all the stress, but Caroline didn't know whether to feel irritated or flattered about the slightly overwhelming attention being showered upon her. For one thing, Klaus was always on his best behavior. He would greet her with a pleasant smile and then invite her to join him for breakfast.
If she was being honest with herself, Caroline didn't know what to make of his sudden shift in attitude; it was baffling to say the least. Even so, she couldn't find it in herself to complain, especially when he would give her that sincerely earnest—if not cleverly deceptive—look with those confusing blue-green puppy-dog eyes as he tried coaxing her into keeping him company while he ate. The very generous tip he never failed to leave was a nice bonus, too. Still, she was nothing is not a master of self-control. There was a list of excuses already written at the back of her head, declining his offers.
She was raised by a cop. Being wary of other people and their motives sort of came with the package, if not, practically second nature. For all intents and purposes, Klaus could very well be trying to weasel his way into her good side just to gain an advantage over the sheriff. Caroline could possibly even be a mere pawn in whatever bigger plans he had in store; what sort of dumb idiot would she be to willingly fall prey to his trap? No, she was going to follow Colin's advice and wait it out till the gang leader got bored of playing, and then leave her alone.
Anna had warned her six ways to Sunday to constantly be cautious, and during one particular afternoon had admitted—though reluctantly—of her fleeting fling with Jeremy Gilbert while he was still a fresh prospect, that had left her a narrow brush with death. An evening with Bonnie had exposed an unfortunate encounter she once had with Damon Salvatore—he was violent when he was drunk, and had a tendency to go berserk and run amok when denied alcohol—where she was left with a two-inch scar on her right shoulder.
Keeping the distance was Caroline's newest mantra.
On the eighth day, he brought along a sketchbook and a pencil, and each time she tried to sneak a peek, he would turn it away from her prying eyes with a shit-eating grin and an impish wink. When he would normally ride off just before the lunch crowd arrived, Caroline found him at a quarter to one, still glued to his spot with another fresh cup of tea, completely engrossed in his drawing.
"You're still here?" she questioned when curiosity got the better of her, and her neurotic side couldn't take not knowing what he was up to. There was even a rumor going around in the kitchen that he was devising an escape route to bust his oldest brother, Finn, out of prison.
Klaus seemed surprised for a split second before his lips curled into that trademark smirk of his. "Is there some place else that I should be at that I don't know about?" he quipped back, eyes dancing with humor.
"You're usually out of here by eleven-thirty," she stated dryly.
His grin only widened. "Didn't think you'd notice, love."
She huffed and folded her arms across her chest. "Look, if you're going to take up space in here, you need to order more than just another cup of tea."
"Caroline Forbes," he gasped in faux exaggeration. "Are you asking me out for lunch?"
"Not even close, Klaus," she replied loftily.
"You will soon enough."
What an arrogant bastard.
With a roll of her blue eyes and a shake of her head, Caroline fished out her notepad and pencil from her back pocket. "What's it going to be, then?"
"Go on a date with me, Caroline."
Her fingers froze; her spine went rigid. Perhaps she had misheard him.
"I'm sorry, did you just ask me to go on a date with you?"
His dimples deepened as he leaned forward with his elbows propped onto the table. "Was I not clear about my intentions, love?"
She blinked.
"I—I—what—why?"
"I fancy you."
She was reduced to an incoherent mute.
"Is that so hard to believe?"
"Yes!" she blurted out.
His eyebrows shot up. "Why? You're beautiful, you're—you're strong, you're full of light. I enjoy you."
Why did that terrify her so much?
Her laughter came out breathy and strangled. "Just to be clear, I'm too smart to be seduced by you."
"Well, that's why I like you."
She tore her gaze away, the intensity in his proving too much for her to take. Cheeks flushed a deep crimson, she cleared her throat. "Okay, then, fish and chips for the stereotypical Brit, coming up."
Then, like the gutless thing her mom thought her to be, Caroline fled.
Keeping the distance.
One day.
Two days.
Three days.
A week.
"This is unacceptable," he spat out. "I don't believe that there's not one fucking thing; that some wanker hadn't slipped up yet."
Tyler Lockwood, the club's Road Captain, shifted uncomfortably from his position at the corner of the room; head hung low and pathetically apologetic about his incompetence. Damon Salvatore, the Secretary and Stefan's big brother, had his lips set in a thin line with his hands jammed into the pockets of his jeans, staring solemnly down at the floor.
Useless deadweight; that was what they were.
"You have five seconds to give me a bloody good reason why I shouldn't just shoot you two right now and be done with it?"
Damon had always fancied himself a hardened brute—was always off spouting dick about how he'd started a brawl at some bar, or the sprawling amount of whores he'd fucked, bragging about his chrome bits—so it didn't come as a shock to Klaus when Tyler—just as cocky as his partner-in-crime, though not as flamboyant about it as his counterpart—was the one stupid enough to speak up.
"Crescent Wolf Clan."
"Did that traitorous ex-girlfriend of yours run back home to daddy?" Klaus taunted in disgust. "More importantly, did you fuck any useful information out of her?"
Tyler had the cheek to look ashamed. "Not exactly—"
"I really don't have time to play twenty questions with you, Tyler," he growled. "Out with it."
"Hayley mentioned that she overheard some members talking about a take-over," he explained in one breath. "Something about a territorial dispute, but she wasn't sure if it's ours."
Klaus cursed out loud. "Did one of our boys cross into their pile of wasteland without my knowledge again?"
Damon shook his head. "And be used as bait? Sure, let's be more stupid, or better yet, run naked straight into their clubhouse?"
"I'm not in the mood for your juvenile wisecracks, Salvatore," the President retorted, running out of patience. "Dig into it, the both of you. If it's territorial dispute, we have no cause for war when we haven't done anything wrong. If it has anything to do with Mikael, I want to know immediately."
Tyler nodded curtly. "Of course, Klaus."
"Now, get the fuck out of my sight."
It was half past ten, and the fact that he wasn't there with his tea and breakfast shouldn't bother her so much, but it did. Much to her dismay—and Anna's amusement—Caroline found her eyes constantly drifting towards the entrance, straining her ears for the thundering of his exhaust, and it was annoyingly affecting her concentration. Orders kept getting mixed up to the point where Colin had asked if she was feeling unwell.
She worked on routine, relying on it almost like a comfort blanket, and as much as she wasn't ecstatic about it, she had gotten used to seeing that pompous face and hearing that honey-coated voice while she hustled about her job. This sudden change was throwing her off guard, and she hated feeling so flustered.
"What did that table ever to do you?" Anna giggled. "You look like you're trying to burn a hole right through it."
Caroline glanced down where her hand was still furiously scrubbing circles with a rag and paused. The surface practically glistened from the thorough cleaning. "Sorry, I'm—I'm just…"
"Distracted?"
She heaved a sigh. "Frustrated."
"Why isn't Klaus here today?" Anna asked flippantly as she bussed the next table.
Caroline scrunched her nose. "Why the hell should I know?"
"Aren't you guys like, friends, or something?"
Hilarious, truly.
"We're not friends," Caroline grumbled. "And shouldn't you be grateful that the asshole isn't here today? You're always complaining about the stress."
Anna shrugged. "Rather me than you. You're notorious when you're all riled up."
"I am not!"
"Are too!" Colin chimed in from the back of house.
"Oh, shut up, both of you," she griped. "Klaus and I aren't friends. End of story."
Even as she tried convincing herself about that, Caroline didn't miss the way Anna was grinning at her with a knowing glint in her eyes.
A knock on the door jolted him out of his reverie—one filled with a certain strong-headed blonde and the absolutely breath-taking addition she would make to his bed; the way he would ravish and worship her the way she deserved, how he would enjoy threading his fingers through her soft tresses and watch as she came apart in his arms—and when Kol's head popped into the room, Klaus flicked his cigarette in his direction.
"Sod off."
"That's not very nice," the younger Mikaelson remarked as he entered, stubbing the discarded stick with the heel of his boot. "Is that how you greet your little brother?" he asked and plopped down on the couch next to the brooding leader. "I heard about the Crescent Wolf Clan. Do you really think they're behind father's murder?"
Klaus reached for the glass of scotch. "Let's not underestimate them, Kol," he murmured before taking a sip. "They may be small in numbers, but a take-over usually involves more than one group. The Labonairs, while they might not be the strongest, have a relatively large following of nomads across the country supporting them. If what Tyler said was true, then there might be a chance that the CWC are working with other MCs."
"And then what?" Kol snickered. "A split in territory?"
"Divide and conquer. Think about the bigger picture. If they wage a war against us, we might be going up against at least three other clubs in this region alone."
Kol took a moment to ponder over it. "Why murder Mikael then? Why just him? Why not finish the rest of us?"
"It's a warning shot."
"Cocky bastards."
"I've sent word to our other chapters to keep their ears peeled," Klaus informed him. "If there are any whispers—even a fucking breath—of a plan of attack, we need to be the first to know."
Kol nodded his head, produced a stick from God-knew-where and lit it up. He took a languid pull and began puffing out smoke ringlets; a tendency that irked Klaus, only because he found it positively infantile, but it only seemed to urge the younger Mikaelson all the more.
"Stop that, you git."
He only smirked, almost in retaliation and lifted his chin. "It's been relatively silent in your bedroom at night, Nik. Is dear Caroline still playing hard to get?"
Klaus wasn't sure why hearing her name like that on his brother's tongue sent his blood boiling. Even after the ample warning he had sent that fateful morning—and a series of not-so-friendly reminders that ensued—he was still feeling unnaturally protective and possessive over her; it was disconcerting. He hadn't felt like that about anybody before, not even towards his little sister, Rebekah.
"She'll come around," he growled.
"Did she turn you down again?"
Narrowing his eyes to slits, Klaus hissed, "don't you have other things to do, Kol?"
"Have you called her?"
"Why would I—I don't even have her fucking number!"
Kol grimaced. "Major courting foul, mate. Weren't you the one who gave me that helpful advice? Something about being less of a psycho stalker? Hate to break it to you, Nik, but you're kind of contradicting yourself here, what with showing up for breakfast every morning just to watch her patter about and make mooning faces as she flips her hair—"
"Okay, that's it," Klaus burst out. "Get out! Go piss Stefan off or something."
"But he's out being nauseating with Rebekah," Kol protested, but then his expression turned smug. "And I actually do have Caroline's number. If you don't want it, I know a handful of other men who—"
Klaus pounced and grabbed onto a fistful of Kol's shirt, twisting the fabric as he jerked his sibling to his feet. Nose to nose, he seethed into the lad's face.
"Delete it," he demanded, voice low and ominous.
"Oh, come on, Nik—"
"Delete it!" he bellowed. "Before I sink you down to the bottom of the Pacific with the remains of your beloved phone."
Not one to easily cower under his brother's rage, Kol stared right back. Playing with fire was a pastime, and though he enjoyed pushing Klaus' buttons, even he wasn't stupid enough to tempt the president's limit. Reaching into his back pocket, Kol fished out his cellphone and reluctantly handed it over.
Klaus released his brother and quickly found what he was looking for.
"You even have a fucking photo of her?"
"She has quite a penchant for taking selfies," Kol commented, only to find himself pinned with a glare. "But I only have that one photo, I swear."
Knowing that his brother was a compulsive liar, Klaus made an extra effort to double check that there wasn't even a single trace of her left in his cellphone. Only when he was completely satisfied did he return the device.
"Cheers, Kol."
"Yeah, well, if I had known that she'd have the misfortune of dealing with you, I wouldn't have bothered in the first place."
"Fuck. Off."
"I'll see you guys tomorrow! Drive safe!" Caroline called out cheerfully as she exited the kitchen and headed out the door after completing her long shift. Slinging her purse over her shoulder, she rummaged through its contents for her car keys.
"Good evening, love."
With a startled yelp, she dropped everything in her hands and whirled around. His accent left little to no doubt as to whom it was, but finding him lounging nonchalantly against his iconic motorbike, almost as if he had been waiting for her, unleashed a million butterflies in her stomach. Caroline wasn't sure if it was the effects of not seeing him that morning, but she was fairly certain that she shouldn't feel such a strong pull to his presence.
"Klaus," she greeted cordially.
"Did you miss me?"
It took more wit than she had anticipated just rolling her eyes. "You wish," she scoffed.
"That I do," he purred, walking—swaggering, almost—to stand an arm's length away from her. "Now, Caroline, have you given it some thought to my offer?"
"What offer?"
He arched an eyebrow. "For a date."
Honestly, she couldn't keep it out of her head if she tried. In a different world—or a parallel dimension—perhaps she wouldn't even have given it a second thought. Her love life had been dismal—non-existent—and it wouldn't hurt to humor him with an evening out to dinner. However, reality—cruel thing that is—had presented her with the leader of Mystic Falls' most feared gangs. He was bad news; a warning label permanently slapped across his forehead, and she would most probably be condemned to hell by her mother for even associating herself with him. Heck, she shouldn't even be engaging in any forms of contact or conversation.
It was best for everyone if she stayed away.
"I have, actually," she replied with a confidence that she didn't believe in.
Those damn dimples appeared. "So what time should I pick you up?"
"How about a quarter to never?"
"Oh, come on," he crooned, shifting so much closer than she would've liked. "Take a chance, Caroline." His fingers inched forward, hovering just shy of her wrist, but the heat emanating from his skin sent a shiver down her spine. "I know you want to."
Her tongue darted out on its own accord to wet her dry lips, and she noticed for a second how his eyes flickered from the movement. "Well, I think I'd rather not."
"Does this have something to do with the sheriff? A conflict of interest, then?"
Was he a mind reader now?
"Look, Klaus," she began calmly; not wanting to aggravate him, knowing that what she was about to tell him wouldn't bode well with his ego. "I can't. There's no way anything between us would work. We're from completely different worlds, and not to mention that you're definitely not somebody that I should be with and—"
"Is this you judging a book by its cover?" he cut in somewhat brusquely. "Just blindly agreeing to what everybody thinks without finding it out for yourself?"
She balked. "No, that's not what—"
"That's exactly what it is," he fumed. "You know what, Caroline, before you go around making assumptions about people, perhaps you'd like to get to know them first. You see the bike and the patch and the tattoos, and you don't see anything past that but the blood and the violence—"
"Klaus—"
"But we're more than that. We're so much more than what society or the community thinks of us," he carried on, passionate in his code of honor. "We're a brotherhood; we don't conform to the fucking law only because it hasn't been kind to us, so we take matters into our own hands. It's not a pretty world we live in, but we're all responsible for our own survival—"
"Okay!" she announced. "Okay, fine! Yes!"
He regarded her silently.
"Fine," she sighed, blowing strands of hair out of her face. "I'll go on a date with you."
She watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed and promptly found herself transfixed on the two moles punctuating the column of his neck. Lifting her gaze, she found his eyes penetrating into her deepest soul, the hues of blue and green intermingling into a pool of hidden desires.
"Why?"
Caroline barely heard it; the word uttered so inaudibly, she would've missed it if she hadn't been staring so intently at his mouth.
"Because I believe you."
Time passed.
One minute.
Two minutes.
And then he backed up until he was by his Harley, and plucked the skullcap helmet hanging from one end of his handlebar, extending it out for her to take.
"You coming, then?"
The wind whipped against his face; the cool night perfect for riding out into the vast span of road ahead. His Dyna thundered down the highway, the rumbling of his Twin Cam engines reverberating through the stillness between the rolling hills, but the only thing Klaus could hear was the thrumming of Caroline's heart against his leather-clad back. Her arms were wound tight around his torso, almost to the brink of crushing his ribcage, and he wondered with amusement if she had even been on a bike before.
"You need to ease up on the hold, love," he yelled over his shoulder. "Wouldn't help either of us if I suffocate and run us off the road."
"Where the hell are you taking me, Klaus?" she asked for the umpteenth time that evening as she loosened her grip just marginally.
"Patience; we're not far off now."
A couple of winding miles later, he pulled up in front of a quaint little cottage a ways off from the main road. Gravel crunched beneath his tires as Klaus came to a stop, parking his bike next to the other ten that were lining the driveway while loud ruckus could be heard emanating from inside. Just as Caroline dismounted, a middle-aged lady exited the house in flannel and jeans, and greeted them from the porch.
"Niklaus? Is that you?"
"Now, who else would it be, Lillian?" he quipped, his tone uncharacteristically soft and endearing as he placed one hand on the small of Caroline's back to guide her forth. "I hope you don't mind me bringing a guest?"
"Nonsense, not at all," she dismissed with a wave of her hand.
The wood creaked beneath their feet as the two climbed the steps.
"Lillian, you're looking more beautiful each day," Klaus intoned, dropping a peck to her cheek. "This is Caroline Forbes," he introduced. "Caroline, I would like you to meet Lillian Salvatore, Stefan and Damon's mother. She also ensures that the boys and I receive proper nourishments other than just burgers and booze."
"Nice to meet you, ma'am," she smiled warmly, shaking the older woman's hand.
"Forbes?" Lillian echoed, eyes wide. "Liz's girl?"
Caroline shrugged. "I guess it's not much of a secret when your mom's the town sheriff."
"Oh, Liz and I go way back," she explained nostalgically. "We went to high school together. She was my captain in the swim team and we were quite close for a while, and then college happened, of course…"
"That's great! Maybe you two could—"
Amber alert.
"Alright, ladies," Klaus interrupted before things could get too cozy. "As much as it pains me to break up this little bonding experience, I am rather famished. I trust that you've made your special Shepherd's pie, Lillian?"
The older brunette gave him a knowing smile. "I've saved an entire tray just for you, honey."
"Shepherd's pie? Really?" Caroline rolled her baby blues and nudged his shoulders with her own. "How stereotypically British of you, Klaus."
He chuckled, thoroughly enjoying this playful side of her. Away from prying eyes, it seemed that her inhibitions were lowered, and watching her like this was incredibly thrilling, not to mention the stirring he had felt in his groin every time she so much as aimed a smidge of her attention his way. There was never a doubt that he wanted her—all of her—and he would stop at nothing to get what he wanted; always.
"Don't knock it until you've tried it, love."
"Come on inside, then," Lillian said, ushering them through the door where they were automatically welcomed by a chorus of hoots and whistles from some twelve men or so.
Klaus craned his neck around when he sensed Caroline retreating, using his body almost as a shield, and for a moment, he was worried that he might have overwhelmed her a bit with the boisterous scene. "You alright?"
She met his concern with one of determination—petulance, even—and once again she had astounded him with her headstrong ways. "Yeah, I'm fine."
"I hope you don't mind me bringing you here for our first date," he told her. "It's just that, hanging with the boys kind of comes with the territory of it all, and if you'd like to know me, talking to them would be the best way."
She gnawed on her bottom lip.
"Or we could still go somewhere else," he spouted without really thinking about it. "I know a diner nearby here—"
"No, I'm good," Caroline assured him. "It's fine; I'm fine."
"You sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure."
His pearly whites gleamed as his face lit up.
"I'll make this worth it. I promise."
Caroline didn't know what she found more bizarre; the fact that she was sitting at a table amongst some of the most dangerous gang members in Mystic Falls and laughing along to their wild anecdotes, or the fact that she was even there to begin with. She was huddled up next to Klaus, her face buried in his chest as she tried—and failed—to stifle her giggles. Their chairs were touching and he had one arm wrapped protectively around her, the other outstretched and propped on his knee, holding a cigarette between his fingers, and she didn't think she had felt this comfortable in her entire life. Her belly was full and the beer was cold; it was unexpectedly nice.
"The wanker was shitting in his pants," Kol whooped gleefully, buzzed from the tobacco and alcohol. "So I cocked my gun—the safety was on, not that the son of a bitch noticed with him pissing all over the floor—and I aimed it at his dick, right, and I said to him, 'you're going to fucking kiss your gorgeous wife's feet right here in front of everybody or you can kiss your fatherhood goodbye'."
"Did he, then?" Enzo, a newly patched-in member, asked from across the table. "Get down on his fucking knees and kiss his wife's feet?"
Kol lifted is glass of scotch in the air. "What do you think?"
The room erupted in howls of cheers and laughter, and Caroline found herself joining in heartily, wondering if it would be hypocritical of her to feel a bit sorry for the poor sod.
"Man, I can't stand those kind of ass-holes," Stefan added. "What kind of fucking pussy does that to his wife?"
"One with a death wish, I reckon," Kol snickered.
Klaus leaned in, then, his breath misting over her ear. "How are you doing, love?"
And then she made the terrible mistake of glancing straight up into his hypnotic eyes, so compelling, smoldering in the way he was staring back at her as if he could devour her whole. Her breath hitched in her throat, her heart thumping in her chest, and before she could stop herself, Caroline was closing the distance.
Their lips brushed, soft and tentative. He tasted of bourbon and smoke—a heady, deadly combination—and when his tongue darted out to trace her mouth, she released a sigh and ignored the warning bells ringing in the hazy surface of her conscience, finally giving in to the attraction she had felt since the first day they had met. His warm, calloused palm fluttered over her cheek to cradle the side of her face as he deepened the kiss.
Suddenly, the front door flew open.
"Stefan fucking Salvatore!" a woman screeched, effectively bursting their little bubble.
Caroline tore herself away from Klaus' arms, flushed and slightly disoriented. In marched a blonde, her hair ironed straight, clad in a tank top, a black mini-skirt and leather knee-high boots with enough eyeliner drawn on to sponsor the Middle East. She was a siren, furious and on a warpath.
"I called you ten fucking times, Stefan," she cried out, stomping over to the man in question, her hands planted on her hips. "I had to track your fucking phone all the way here. Do you have any idea the time I could've saved if you'd just fucking tell me?"
"That's Rebekah," Klaus informed her, keeping his voice low. "My dear sister, and Stefan's Old Lady. She's a fucking tart and quite a strumpet, but they're sickeningly in love."
Caroline turned to the club president, eyebrows raised. "Old Lady? Like his girlfriend?"
"Sweetheart, we're not in high school," he tutted, reaching for his drink.
She was affronted for a moment at his patronizing tone until Rebekah's shrill complaints pierced through the air once again, incessantly accusing Stefan of one too many ridiculous notions while he silently took the hit.
"Shouldn't someone say something?" she whispered.
"You have to be fucking mental to interrupt Bekah while she's having an episode," Kol chirped, his words starting to slur. "Trust me, you'd be better off watching the show from the sidelines with a bucket of popcorn."
"Arguing is the only way they know how to show that they actually give a damn about each other," Damon piped up.
"Okay, stop!" Stefan boomed. He rose to his feet and got into his Old Lady's face. "You don't get to barge in here and act like a total bitch to me when things don't go your way—oof!"
Caroline's jaw dropped, stunned as she watched Rebekah launch herself at the Sergeant-at-Arms and began aggressively snogging him right there in front of everybody. The blonde clung onto him like a jungle gym, her legs wrapped around his waist, and Stefan's hands cupping the globes of her rear, and just when it seemed like the members were going to be treated to a show, Stefan shuffled out of the room towards the kitchen, their moans and grunts echoing off the walls.
"Son of a bitch," Jeremy exclaimed. "What a fucking tease!"
"She's my sister, you horny twat," Klaus grumbled, pitching an empty can of soda the biker's way. "One more word and I'll rip your tongue out."
"Sorry," the boy mumbled.
With that, Caroline took it as her cue to leave. A quick check of her time told her that it was way past her bedtime, and she still had to open the diner the next morning.
"I should head home," she told Klaus regretfully. "I have an early shift."
"Yeah, of course," he murmured, dropping a kiss to her shoulder. "Are you heading back to your mom's? Because I have my own room in the clubhouse, you know, just in case—"
Caroline lightly pushed his chest. "I'm still too smart to be seduced by you."
"We'll see about that."
He had tried to resist—had tried to be a perfect gentleman—but all it took was an entirely innocent slip of her dainty hand, down to where he was sporting a massive boner in the confines of his jeans, for his restraints to snap. After that, he didn't think twice before making a U-turn in the middle of the empty highway and peeling down the road, Caroline clinging onto him for dear life.
Klaus practically dragged her behind him as he kicked the clubhouse door open, startling a handful of prospects sitting around playing poker and getting high off their horses.
"Get the fuck out," he ordered. "Now!"
At once, they scrambled to leave, knowing not to question their leader. The sound of engines starting followed in their wake, and Klaus turned to the blonde in silent permission to proceed. Her porcelain cheeks were rosy and flushed from the cold air, her curls windswept and disheveled, and he didn't think he could wait one second longer.
He lunged for her, the impact knocking her back a couple of steps, but he held her in place, one hand grasping on her waist while the other tangled in her silky blonde curls. Fervently, he seized her lips, eager to feel them upon his once again. The short reprieve he had been granted with before did nothing to quench his thirst for her. They fumbled and tugged, whimpered and trembled, and Klaus wouldn't let her go as they stumbled. His bedroom was suddenly too far, and he needed her.
Now.
A thud followed the dropping of his vest. It was only a modicum of respect for the club's colors did he haphazardly pick it up and toss it onto the table. Taking advantage of their momentary separation, he grappled with her blouse as she effortlessly peeled off his Henley, both promptly discarded and forgotten. Klaus was having a love-hate relationship with her tight-fitting jeans; it hugged her curves like wet paint, and yet, it proved to be a nightmare to remove, especially in his less-than-coordinated state.
She giggled at his attempts, clutching at his shoulders. Growling in frustration, he yanked the fabric over her hips, causing a surprised gasp to escape her throat. Her blue eyes twinkled in the dim lights, and she had barely stepped out of the pool of denim before he was sweeping her off her feet.
"Klaus!" she squealed as he chuckled and set her down onto the sofa.
Having enough of the distance, he dove in, burying his nose in the crook of her neck and inhaling her sweet scent. It was intoxicating, the way she surrounded him in every aspect; how she seemed to imprint herself without even trying. He peppered her milky flesh with chaste kisses, drawing a trail up her jaw, where he gently nipped at the spot just below her ear. She moaned appreciatively, her back arched and her breasts pressed into his bare chest.
It didn't take long for her wandering hands to journey down to the bulge in his jeans and undo his belt buckle. His body jerked as her touch ghosted tantalizingly over his zipper. Her fingers inched closer, teasing as she grinned salaciously against his lips—he had half the mind to wipe it off with his tongue—and when he thought he might spontaneously combust from the anticipation, she spared him the misery and slid her entire palm underneath his pants.
"Fuck!" he hissed; eyes squeezed shut in absolute bliss, and yet hating how she had such control over him. "Fuck, Caroline!"
"Well, that is the plan, Nik," she whispered as she gave him a squeeze.
Klaus ground out another string of expletives. Hearing his name like that, spoken like a prayer and a promise of sin all in one, was fire in his veins. It was dangerous; it was potent, and it was then that he reckoned payback was in order because he would be damned if he allowed her to consume him any further.
With a flick of his wrist, her bra came undone and her breasts sprang free. He scarcely registered her sharp intake of air as his mouth descended on one soft mound and greedily latched on. Its twin wasn't forgotten, and Klaus made sure to lavish it with the same amount of care and attention, cupping the soft globe and circling a pert nipple with his thumb. Wet, suckling noises harmonized her needy whimpers, her nails sinking into his hair and scraping deliciously against his scalp.
"Oh, God…" she murmured.
He ground down into her, stilling her rolling hips as he ran his tongue over the bow of her clavicle and nibbled a path up towards her chin till he hovered over her, his hot breath fanning her swollen lips.
"Well, I wouldn't go so far as to call me that, but I suppose 'God' of The Originals has a nice ring to it," he teased.
"Shut up," Caroline laughed, lightly shoving his chest. "If you're planning on living up to it, then might I suggest you start actually proving to me just how God-like you really are."
He smirked. "Oh, love, you know how I can't resist a challenge."
"What are you waiting for, then?"
Keeping his blazing stare locked on hers, Klaus hooked two digits into the waistband of her underwear, and in one hard yank, he ripped the flimsy material right down the middle.
"Shit!" she sputtered indignantly. "What'd you do that for?"
He shrugged. "It was in the way."
Caroline sighed, lamenting on her ruined garment. "You owe me another pair."
"I'll buy you a drawer-full but they'll all end up just the same, sweetheart," he husked, slowly edging his way down her naked body, dropping kisses at random spots on her creamy skin and reveling in the way she squirmed under his ministrations.
He stopped just shy of her dripping core, saturated in the musk of her arousal, and groaned as his stiff manhood twitched, just begging to be released. Her legs parted invitingly, and it was all the encouragement he needed.
"Klaus!"
She was absolutely exquisite, her rich taste exploding in his mouth and flooding down his throat as he drank. The finest wines in the world couldn't compare to her sweet nectar; the greatest composers of all time couldn't recreate a more melodious masterpiece than that of Caroline Forbes keening and panting in the throes of passion. His eyes never left hers. He watched every reaction, every tiny expression that crossed her gorgeous features; found that he was entranced by her beauty, and how she was able to look vulnerable and empowered at the same time.
"Oh…Klaus…I—I'm…"
I will love you till the end of time
I would wait a million years
Promise you'll remember that you're mine
Baby can you see through the tears?
Knowing exactly what would take her over the edge, he doubled up on his efforts, lapping at her like a dying man in need of water. Just as she was teetering on the brink of oblivion, he roughly shoved his jeans and pants down to his knees, and with a thrust, he sank into her warm harbor.
She cried out at the sudden intrusion, her nails clawing into his back, and Klaus gritted his teeth in a sheer effort to allow her a moment to adjust.
"Some warning would be nice," she rasped.
He grinned wolfishly. "Completely missing the point, love."
"Oh, yeah?" she asked, arching an eyebrow as she wriggled beneath him. "And what point is that?"
"Caroline Forbes, I'm about to fuck you senseless."
Love you more
Than those bitches before
Say you'll remember, oh baby, say you'll remember
I will love you till the end of time
A/N: So, there you go! Klaroline sexy time, and getting to meet the rest of the club. Also, I added in that Stebekah moment because she's going to also play an important part in the story. There isn't much badass action at the moment, but it's coming, I promise!
Also, neither of us have any affiliations to any MCs out there, so we're both writing this based on what we've gathered from Sons of Anarchy, Gangland Undercover and documentaries on Outlaw Biker Gangs, and we've just put pieces together, so any inaccuracies (if you're picky like that) are purely our mistakes.
Shiwiiiii: Hi there! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! I really appreciate it, and I'm glad you liked the first chapter. My co-writer and I were nervous about putting it up, since it's my first time delving into the TVD fandom, and her first time posting anything ever, so thank you for the kind words! Hope you've enjoyed this chapter!
AnnaTom23: Hello there! Thank you so much for reading and leaving a review! I love your DP, by the way! I'm glad you've enjoyed Klaus' dark aura and Kol's cheekiness. He provides for wonderful comic relief in an otherwise serious story, and I love writing for his character. Hope you've liked this update! Cheers!
Agronderwood: Hi there! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! It's so nice to see a fellow Fabrevans shipper who also appreciates my and my co-writer's work even if it's for another fandom! I'm really humbled and gracious by it!
LoVeOvergron: Hello there! Thank you so much for reading and leaving a review! It's such a warm feeling to know someone else who likes both Fabrevans and Klaroline! SOA was a point of reference for this story, but we've tried not to follow it too closely because we want to create a different form of identity for The Originals. Glad you like the first part so far! Hope you've enjoyed this update!
Ashlytorres24: Hi there! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! I really appreciate it! I'm glad you're excited for the story, and I hope you've enjoyed this chapter as well! Cheers!
Justanotherfiveminutes: Hi! Thank you so much for reading and leaving such a wonderful review! I'm so appreciative of it! I'm glad you like how the characters are portrayed in this story, and that you find it funny, intriguing and involving! Kol is such a fun character to write because he's the comic relief in the story and there's so much he can get away with saying or doing. Klaus I suppose will always be Klaus because that's what makes him uniquely so, and that's the allure to him, and I've always loved sassy Caroline. She's so much smarter than people give her credit for, and she's headstrong, so she's also another character that's so much fun to explore. Hope you've enjoyed this chapter!
LordKatelyn: Hello! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! I really appreciate the wonderful comments! It always gives nice warm tingles in the stomach.
Dreaserrano: Hi there! Thank you so much for reading and leaving a review! I'm glad you've enjoyed the first part! Hope you like this update just as much! Cheers!
Song used: "Blue Jeans" by Lana Del Ray