terriblymisguided (
terriblymisguided) wrote2022-06-27 02:02 pm
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death is but the next great adventure
Klaus has a funny relationship with death. Mostly, he's a little surprised that after a childhood spent being a rather worthless superhero, followed by over a decade of addiction and one stupid decision after another, death hasn't come for him yet. It's sort of a miracle that he's even stayed alive this long, given the circumstances .
There have been close calls, of course. Perhaps none closer than that night with Luther where he struck his head against a cement floor and went to wherever that was where he spoke with that bitchy child and his bitchier father.
It had even gotten to the point where Klaus thought that maybe he'd end up cheating death entirely, but it seems that he was wrong about that. Death will come for him. He thinks maybe it's coming for him now.
Death is at the front of his mind, but that isn't surprising. What else is there to think about when you're bleeding out on the sidewalk?
It all happens very fast.
Klaus is walking along the street, sipping iced coffee and gesticulating wildly as he recounts an embellished story about a drag king he'd befriended in Amsterdam, when suddenly there's a wild cacophony of sound. A peaceful afternoon is disrupted when a car runs a red light and crashes into the side of another car, sending it spinning wildly into the front of a bakery just a few yards from where they're standing.
Glass and metal explode outward and litter the ground, which startles Klaus enough that he drops his iced coffee. The plastic breaks as it hits the pavement and the coffee spills, sending the liquid outward to follow the patterns of cracks and grooves in the sidewalk.
"That was a close one, huh?" Klaus says to the person next to him, but his voice sounds strange. His throat tickles and when he tries to clear it, the taste of copper fills his mouth and he coughs a little in surprise, blinking as blood trickles out from the corner of his mouth.
He hears a scream and coughs again, starting to shake as he tips his head down to look at his chest. There's so much blood there suddenly, pumping out of a hole in his chest and staining the thin pink tee that he's wearing. It spreads outwards like the coffee on the ground, growing and taking over whatever dry space it can reach.
Klaus reaches up to touch his trembling fingers to the edge of the jagged wound, coughing again as he slowly turns to look behind him. There's a piece of metal on the ground, rebar shrapnel, and it too is covered in crimson red. “Fuck.”
It's only once he realizes what's happened that it starts to hurt, and he feels like a child that's fallen down but doesn't start to cry until he spots the blood on his knee. It hurts so bad that Klaus can't breathe, or maybe that's because his lungs are filling up with blood.
He gives the person next to him a panicked look and then stumbles backwards, collapsing back onto the pavement and staring up at the sky. There's blood in his throat, pooling in his mouth until he chokes, and a part of him wants to laugh.
All those dangerous missions, all those years ruining himself with drugs. Multiple apocalypses. Frontline combat in Vietnam. All of that and this is how he's going to go-- random happenstance. A horrible accident. It'd be hilarious if it wasn't so fucking depressing.
"I'm sorry," he chokes out to the person kneeling at his side, because he loves them and he doesn't want them to have to deal with this. He doesn't want to leave them, but everything is getting dark and cold and he's being called away to somewhere else.
Death is pulling him away, sick of being cheated out of the chance to reap Klaus Hargreeves, and this time, he can't seem to fight it.
This time, he has to go, even though it's the most that he's ever wanted to stay.
There have been close calls, of course. Perhaps none closer than that night with Luther where he struck his head against a cement floor and went to wherever that was where he spoke with that bitchy child and his bitchier father.
It had even gotten to the point where Klaus thought that maybe he'd end up cheating death entirely, but it seems that he was wrong about that. Death will come for him. He thinks maybe it's coming for him now.
Death is at the front of his mind, but that isn't surprising. What else is there to think about when you're bleeding out on the sidewalk?
It all happens very fast.
Klaus is walking along the street, sipping iced coffee and gesticulating wildly as he recounts an embellished story about a drag king he'd befriended in Amsterdam, when suddenly there's a wild cacophony of sound. A peaceful afternoon is disrupted when a car runs a red light and crashes into the side of another car, sending it spinning wildly into the front of a bakery just a few yards from where they're standing.
Glass and metal explode outward and litter the ground, which startles Klaus enough that he drops his iced coffee. The plastic breaks as it hits the pavement and the coffee spills, sending the liquid outward to follow the patterns of cracks and grooves in the sidewalk.
"That was a close one, huh?" Klaus says to the person next to him, but his voice sounds strange. His throat tickles and when he tries to clear it, the taste of copper fills his mouth and he coughs a little in surprise, blinking as blood trickles out from the corner of his mouth.
He hears a scream and coughs again, starting to shake as he tips his head down to look at his chest. There's so much blood there suddenly, pumping out of a hole in his chest and staining the thin pink tee that he's wearing. It spreads outwards like the coffee on the ground, growing and taking over whatever dry space it can reach.
Klaus reaches up to touch his trembling fingers to the edge of the jagged wound, coughing again as he slowly turns to look behind him. There's a piece of metal on the ground, rebar shrapnel, and it too is covered in crimson red. “Fuck.”
It's only once he realizes what's happened that it starts to hurt, and he feels like a child that's fallen down but doesn't start to cry until he spots the blood on his knee. It hurts so bad that Klaus can't breathe, or maybe that's because his lungs are filling up with blood.
He gives the person next to him a panicked look and then stumbles backwards, collapsing back onto the pavement and staring up at the sky. There's blood in his throat, pooling in his mouth until he chokes, and a part of him wants to laugh.
All those dangerous missions, all those years ruining himself with drugs. Multiple apocalypses. Frontline combat in Vietnam. All of that and this is how he's going to go-- random happenstance. A horrible accident. It'd be hilarious if it wasn't so fucking depressing.
"I'm sorry," he chokes out to the person kneeling at his side, because he loves them and he doesn't want them to have to deal with this. He doesn't want to leave them, but everything is getting dark and cold and he's being called away to somewhere else.
Death is pulling him away, sick of being cheated out of the chance to reap Klaus Hargreeves, and this time, he can't seem to fight it.
This time, he has to go, even though it's the most that he's ever wanted to stay.
no subject
"Let's go home," he agrees, pulling back and giving Obi-Wan a brief kiss before letting go. He undresses entirely and stuffs his ruined clothing into the trash bin, keeping only his socks and boots. There is dried blood crusting all over his skin, and Obi-Wan's too, and he can't wait to get home and take a long soak in the tub.
For now, he pulls on his scrubs as Obi-Wan puts his robe into the bag to take home. He says it doesn't matter, and while Klaus knows that it doesn't in the grand scheme of things, he still wants to try and fix it.
It's only when Klaus pulls his boots back on that he notices the hospital bracelet around his wrist. He didn't even notice it being put on him, and it makes him think of all the times he'd woken up in hospitals before after overdoses or accidents. All those near-death experiences, and Klaus still never figured it out.
After signing a discharge paper, Klaus and Obi-Wan leave the hospital looking like the final girls at the end of a horror movie-- bloody and traumatized and holding hands, but very much alive.
"Fuck, I feel hungover," he says as they walk out into the hot sunshine, and he lifts his hand to shade his eyes. "Celestial comedown is a bitch."
no subject
"Well, I'm just glad you're here to experience the celestial comedown," he answers. The car he's ordered is already waiting for them and Obi-Wan smiles as they get in, but he requests a quiet ride, and the driver, wanting a good rating, seems more than happy to oblige.
"Close your eyes," he says once they're in the car and on the move. "Just rest."
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They climb into the car and Klaus isn't surprised that driver easily agrees to stay quiet. If he picks people up from the hospital on any regular sort of basis, he's probably used to people not being very chatty.
He wants to get home so badly, wants to soak in the tub and sink into bed for about a week, but for now he leans against Obi-Wan's side and nods at his gentle instruction, closing his eyes and taking a slow, deep breath.
no subject
They get cleaned up mostly in silence, taking time, making sure the water is warm, comfortable. Obi-Wan gets the cleanest, fluffiest towels from the closet. Then he puts them both to bed. There is no reading for him tonight, just the dark, the quiet, and Klaus breathing beside him.
Klaus, alive, here with him.
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He sleeps, and then he dreams. In his dream, he's eight years old again, screaming with his cheek pressed to the freezing cold cement floor of an old crypt. The oxygen in the room is gone and he feels sick, and then he is sick all over that cold floor. He's begging for help with whatever air he has left and just before everything goes black, he hears the faint ticking of a stopwatch, and the scratching of a pen.
Klaus wakes up with a gasp, eyes snapping open to find that he's back home, tucked away safely in Obi-Wan's bed. Still, his heart is racing and sweat beads at his temple, and he turns to the side to curl himself around Obi-Wan's back, cheek pressed to warm, smooth skin.
no subject
Whatever the dream, Obi-Wan doesn't think the details matter, only how they've left Klaus feeling.
Obi-Wan lifts his arm and reaches for Klaus's hand, bringing him closer, pressing Klaus's palm against his chest so he can feel his heart beating slower and steady.
"I'm right here," he says in a soft, sleepy voice. "You're right here."
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"I'm right here," he echoes, sliding his hand back and forth across Obi-Wan's chest and turning his head to nose behind his ear, inhaling the warm, clean scent of him. Obi-Wan makes him feel better, just like he always feels better, and Klaus finds himself tugging at Obi-Wan's shoulder, rolling him onto his back so he can slowly climb on top of him.
"You're right here," he breathes out quietly, reaching up to cup Obi-Wan's face in both hands and rest their foreheads together. "Thank God."
no subject
"I wouldn't be anywhere else," he promises, his eyes closed, hands still moving.
While seeing Klaus die had been difficult, an experience he would very much like not to repeat ever again, he can't imagine what Klaus has been through. The violence of it, of course, but also the pain and trauma of realizing what his father had done so many times.
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"I love you," he murmurs quietly, almost desperately, pressing his mouth to Obi-Wan's in a kiss that tastes like sleep. That point of connection soothes him, as do Obi-Wan's hand traveling in wide, slow spans across his back. He wants every point of connection they can have, wants to focus on the fact that he's here, he's okay, he's with the man he loves, and nothing else. Everything else can wait.
"Will you fuck me, Obi? Please?" He leans over to grab the lube from the nightstand and presses it into Obi-Wan's hand, getting up on his knees and leaning in for another kiss. "I just want to feel you, only you."
no subject
“I love you,” he murmurs in return as he takes the lube and pulls himself into a seated position. He wants to be able to hold Klaus, to see his eyes, wrap his arms around him. With a quick movement, he arranges the pillow between his back and the headboard, then pulls himself back to he’s sitting against them.
“Come here,” he says, reaching his free hand out to curl over Klaus’s hip, urging him into his lap.
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When Obi-Wan is inside of him, nothing else matters. That’s what he wants to feel. Nothing else but him.
Klaus waits while Obi-Wan positions himself and then crawls into his lap easily, straddling his thighs and digging his knees into the mattress, hands going to Obi-Wan’s shoulders.
“Thank you,” he murmurs quietly, rising up onto his knees as Obi-Wan uncaps the lube because they do this as easy as breathing now, letting their bodies work together in tandem. He puts one hand on the side of Obi-Wan’s face and leans in to kiss him, lingering and sweet, fingers sliding up onto the mess of his hair. “Thank you for loving me so much.”
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"You make it easy," he answers.
And that is entirely the truth. Klaus may not believe it, but this has been easy for Obi-Wan from the moment they met. He may not always get it right, he knows he's stumbled along the way in some forms, but in general, loving Klaus has felt as right as anything in his life. And he has loved before, loved deeply and with passion, so he knows, has known for a long time, how special and wonderful this is.
"You make it so easy," he says again as he presses one finger inside Klaus's body, taking his time.
no subject
Whatever happened, whatever his father did to him, however many times he died and came back-- it all led to him being right here in this wonderful man's arms, so he can't regret any of it.
"I love you," he murmurs against Obi-Wan's mouth, giving him a firm kiss and reaching down between their bodies to curl his fingers around Obi-Wan's cock, stroking slowly as his other hand cradles the side of his lover's face. "I love you so much."
no subject
This isn’t the same sort of encounter they often have, where they’re already both aching even before they touch one another. It’s slower and it isn’t until Klaus’s hand wraps around his cock that Obi-Wan can feel himself beginning to get hard. He exhales, his breath shaking a little, then kisses Klaus again, slow and deep. His tongue slips into Klaus’s mouth, licking into him, breathing him in.
“How are you feeling?” he asks in a hushed voice. “Are you ready?”
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He rises up on his knees and lets Obi-Wan position his cock, pressing it into him as Klaus sinks down with a low, stuttering moan. It's so dark in the room, only moonlight filtering in through the curtains, but for this Klaus doesn't need to see. He can feel everything-- Obi-Wan's cock inside of him, warm breath against his cheek, strong arms wrapped around him. He can feel the love that Obi-Wan has for him, and the desperate gratitude that Klaus is still here, living and breathing.
"Obi-Wan," he breathes out quietly, thighs trembling as he rocks himself on Obi-Wan's cock, barely pulling himself up at all. Before long, all he can think about his how good Obi-Wan feels, and how lucky he is. Even in the darkness of this room, Obi-Wan is a light that chases away the shadows, keeps him safe and warm. "This is perfect."
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He wraps his arms around Klaus, holding him close, their movements slow and deep, motions that come from knowing one another so well. Klaus’s body is warm around his cock, tight and perfect, every movement of his thighs making Obi-Wan shudder with pleasure.
“It is,” he agrees, breathless, whispering. He finds Klaus’s mouth in the dark, kissing him slowly and deeply as they rock together. It’s a reminder for them both that he’s alive, he’s here in Obi-Wan’s arms, alive and whole.
no subject
His breath hitches, thighs burning as he leans back, pulling Obi-Wan with him until Klaus is on his back and Obi-Wan is on top of him, nestled between his spread thighs. One hand goes around the back of Obi-Wan's neck and the other around his own cock, stroking a whimper out of him.
"I'm close," he murmurs, wrapping one leg loosely around Obi-Wan's thighs and pulling him closer. "Obi-Wan, please."
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He lets Klaus control the speed of the strokes, but keeps his hand over his, following along as he continues to thrust into him. It feels so good, as it always does, but Obi-Wan is focused solely on Klaus and his pleasure. He's focused on bringing Klaus back to this moment, to these things they share, to how they feel together.
Because they're together. Utterly. And Obi-Wan doesn't want him to forget that.
"I have you, my love," he whispers, pressing a kiss to Klaus's mouth. "I'll catch you."
no subject
The rush of pleasure seems to clear his mind and help him feel grounded, and maybe he's a little broken for that, he doesn't know. But it helps, and Obi-Wan understands and gives him what he needs, and Klaus is just so happy to be here, so happy to be understood.
"Your turn," he pants out against Obi-Wan's cheek, continuing to rock back against him, urging him on. "Come inside of me. I want to know that you're there tomorrow."
no subject
Obi-Wan shudders, gasping Klaus’s name, his orgasm spilling out of him, coming inside of Klaus with a moan. As ever, with Klaus, he feels centred, grounded to this moment and all their shared experiences. He feels loved beyond all measure and he feels a great sense of fulfillment. Being with Klaus has never felt like anything else.
For a long time, Obi-Wan continues to rock into Klaus gently, barely moving at all, just enough to remind them both they’re here, together.