To top it all off, he was almost *too* warm, and could swear to God there were button-imprints on the side of his jaw from Klaus's shirt. The man was beneath him, sleeping like a dead rock, still completely dressed as he'd been when they'd come up the stairs.

/To wake him or not to wake him.../ Well, if Klaus was going to feel as shitty as *he* was feeling just at the moment, it was probably best to let him sleep, Dorian decided, shifting his face slightly to at least move himself off of the buttons. /Maybe if I sleep a little longer, I'll feel better once I wake up again.../

Although how many times before had *that* worked for a hangover?

The shift of his head stirred Klaus a little, but it was only to get an unpleasant growling noise, and Klaus turned his head on the pillow. Somehow a rough night's sleep had dislodged his eyepatch; now Dorian could see the rippling scar where the knife had done its work, the still lingering swelling, and how the eyelid and lashes that covered it seemed to be a little sunken in.

It didn't change Dorian's opinion of him as being an incredibly handsome man in the least. Of course, he supposed that Klaus would have to be gone from the Earth entirely for him to *not* love the man and think he was wonderful and handsome and brave, so it was just as well!

Klaus didn't seem to notice Dorian's physical imperfections, so why would Dorian notice Klaus's? It didn't mean the person was any different... even though they were both, in light of their pasts, drastically different now from how they once were.

And 'once' wasn't so long ago.

With a slight sigh and a wince, Dorian closed his eyes, stomach clenching slightly. /I'm never ever drinking like that again,/ he promised himself once again, shuddering. /Yuck./

"Zrrrh." Klaus was making 'trying to wake up' noises, shifting to curl up on one side and finding himself hindered both by Dorian still curled against him and his own clothes.

It was NOT the way he wanted to wake up!

Dorian on his side was more and more normal -- but the odd feeling of clothes twisted around his body, a little sticky, uncomfortable around his groin, and a *throbbing* headache... that was what he wasn't used to. "Nn, dor'an..."

"Go back to sleep," Dorian whispered, even that sound impossibly loud in his head. "'ve got a hangover. You too, prob'ly."

"[Need smth'n to drink,]" Klaus mumbled, lifting his head blearily to look around.

"Hmm?" Oh, he was in too much pain to muddle through any language other than English,and he wasn't even sure he could muddle through THAT!!

"'m wasser?" Klaus asked again, squirming himself a little upright. Ugh, completely dressed, and he could faintly remember why his pants were clinging to him in such a disgusting manner.

"You're Darth Vader? What?" Dorian asked, confusion setting in for the moment.

"Nnn." Dorian's voice was just a tad too loud in that confused moment for Klaus's comfort. "Drink, ah... Whater?"

"Oh." That was a whisper of sound, Dorian sighing slightly. He'd made his *own* head ache worse, so he might as well go search out some tylenol.... "'s not in here. I'll go get you some from the bathroom..."

"Mmmhn." That was a protest, Klaus shifting fully sitting with a miserable sounding noise. "'ll 'et 't."

"I want some, too," Dorian told him. He wanted to brush his teeth, and he wanted *pain killers*! "Wanna brush my teeth. You want anything else?" he whispered.

A shower, he was sure. "'m be back," Klaus said quietly, shifting to sit at the edge of the bed for a moment before he lurched to his feet and grabbed the pajamas he hadn't put on the night before.

The mere fact that they weren't so close together was actually good for Dorian, cool air rushing in to replace the heat of Klaus's body and relieving some of the nausea that had been steadily growing since he'd wakened. "I *hate* being drunk," he mumbled.

Klaus nodded in bleary agreement for a moment, before he tromped off unsteadily down the hallway to the bathroom. Short moments later, Dorian could hear the water in the shower blasting at full power.

"Go back to sleep," Dorian muttered to himself, clutching his aching head. "It'll get better if you go back to sleep..."

Fuck sleeping. He wanted to brush his teeth!! Klaus was in the shower, though, and he remembered the last time he'd walked in... well. While the thought was nice, it had upset Klaus terribly, he knew, so that was out for the time being. /I can wait.../

The night before had been nice, though, hadn't it? That was a thought to turn over and over as he laid there, waiting to hear the water shut off. It had been more than nice, really. It had been... *perfect*. Almost. So much of what he'd dreamed about, wished for, wanted. He wondered what Klaus was thinking this morning. He wondered if Klaus remembered... He really hoped that he did! /Ohhh, maybe the hangover is worth that.../

Hopefully Klaus wouldn't do what he'd done the last time -- never mentioned it directly, as if it had never happened. What would it take to strip Klaus's mind of years of teaching, and the traumatic experience with the Stasi, just enough to let him see that not everything was horrible? Dorian didn't know. Still, whatever it took, he supposed he'd have to go slowly with it. He wanted Klaus to know pleasure, and not fear or shame. He had felt enough of that, now, for both of them, and he certainly didn't intend to inflict anything worse on Klaus than he'd already suffered!! /My poor darling.../

But he'd heard an admittance he thought he'd never hear -- Klaus saying he *wanted* him. Even scarred and not *quite* the same, Klaus wanted him; pathetically needy, and Klaus still wanted him.

Another ten minutes passed, and Klaus returned -- damp from the shower, dressed in his pajamas, a glass of water and a box of tylenol in hand, both of which were handed silently to Dorian as he moved to pull the blinds.

"THANK you," Dorian murmured, taking the lid off and promptly swallowing four of the little capsules, shuddering as he polished off the water. "My head's going to explode," he decided with a sigh. "You're clean. I should go bathe, too..." Except that he really didn't want to get out of bed at all!

"Ja." Though, Klaus wasn't going to press that, as he moved to lay beneath the sheets again, laying down tiredly. He'd had to clean seepage around his eye -- something that was unexplainably disgusting for him -- and had put the patch firmly back in place over it again. And now, after a freezing cold shower and a couple of glasses of water he felt better.

"Mmmm," Dorian sighed sleepily. "'s going to get better. 'd you take some?" he asked.

"Ja. Dr-- three." Softly uttered, Klaus closing his eyes as he shifted miserably to lay on his side, hoping that it would help his head in *some* manner.

For a while, they laid there silently, about a foot apart, and Dorian finally drifted back to sleep. It was fairly difficult, considering the pounding of his head, but he *knew* he'd feel better if he could just *sleep* for a while!! Which left Klaus to watch Dorian once some of the throb had abated from simply laying there quietly, not moving. He was turned towards Dorian, too, so when he finally cracked open his eye, it was took no movement to look at the earl's sleeping face.

The red lines of scars in no way detracted from the countenance upon which he gazed; indeed, he really didn't see them. Instead, he saw golden lashes brushing pale cheeks, lovely pale lips parted in steady breaths, a straight nose, a firm jaw. He saw beauty in that face, just as it had ever held, and nothing, ever, could convince him otherwise. Only now he could admit to seeing that beauty, torn between shoving it away and keeping it close to him. He had to keep Dorian safe, because he'd failed once. He was a failure at everything else, it seemed, but Dorian wanted him there still, so he had to try to keep him safe, to make him better.

It never once occurred to him that what he saw looking at Dorian was what Dorian saw when he looked back at him. Dorian himself had just realized that they shared views of each other.

Klaus closed his eyes again, shifting his left hand to rest it on Dorian's chest as if it had moved there in his sleep.

"Mmmm..." It was only a sleep sound, and Dorian shifted, moving closer to him. The room was quite chilly, and now that they had both cooled off, it seemed that he wanted to be close to Klaus once again. It was something Klaus wanted to oblige Dorian in, though for the moment he didn't move his slightly fisted hand from where it was curled at the center of Dorian's narrow chest. Hopefully that would keep the nightmares away.

The other man's arms moved around him, Dorian nestling close, and his head found its home against Klaus's chest despite the fist between them. The man sighed softly, blue eyes fluttering open slightly. He was reassured by the sight of Klaus there and smiled before closing them again, nestling close in his sleep.

There was something disturbingly comforting in knowing and feeling Dorian move consciously closer to him when he thought Klaus to be asleep. He'd have to analyze that when he was more awake...

Klaus Heinz von dem Eberbach had never thought that *denim* could be flamboyant.

Klaus Heinz von dem Eberbach was *wrong*.

Perhaps it was the fact that the jeans Dorian had slid over lean hips were almost the same shade of blue as the Briton's aquamarine gaze. Perhaps it was the fact that the t-shirt the man had on was spattered with paints in shades of that same color accompanied by purples and greens and even magenta. Perhaps -- just perhaps, mind you -- it had something to do with the scarf tied about Dorian's waist in equally complimentary colors.

Dorian was *definitely* feeling better than either one of them had felt the day before!

"Ohhhh!" the man declared, stretching until his back popped. "I'm glad we spent all day yesterday in bed! I feel up to the climb now!"

Klaus glanced over to the stout mountain they were going to hike, and shifted on the gravel of the parking lot as he locked the car. "Yesterday neither of us felt up to more than staying in bed." Except to get water, go to the bathroom, or, finally around eight, get food. It had been a waste of a day, but it had also been a little enjoyable for Klaus; lots of opportunities offered for him to become more comfortable than he already was around Dorian.

His own jeans, in his opinion, were thankfully not flamboyant, and neither was his comfortable leather jacket and the work-quality olive shirt he wore under it.

"That's true," Dorian admitted with a smile, hands shoved into his pockets as he smiled at Klaus. "Today's glorious, though. Shall we start up? I wonder what the view from the top is like..."

How Dorian could get his hands *into* those pockets seemed to be the most prominent thought on his mind as he nodded briskly and started towards the trail. "The trees are pretty here, with all the leaves turned."

"Red and gold and green and umber," Dorian agreed, sighing with pleasure as he followed after the other man. /Klaus has the cutest *bottom*,/ he thought wistfully to himself. "It should be a *glorious* sort of day, darling!" That word was coming more and more into his vocabulary in the last day or so; he was unable to help himself.

It seemed a good thing, to Klaus; that Dorian was returning to himself, in flamboyance and speech. He could still shoot perfectly, Dorian was still the foppish man who'd both pissed him off and drawn him in without explanation. "There's no risk of rain -- the view from the top is supposed to be really good."

"Come on," Dorian encouraged, reaching for his hand. It would be all right if Klaus rejected him -- he wouldn't mind it too badly -- but he hoped that the other man would not.

The excuse Klaus used was that the trail was supposed to be steep in parts, and that he wouldn't want Dorian to fall. Also, holding Dorian's hand like that, his right hand clasped in Dorian's left, Klaus taking the outside of the path, helped to hide his maimed fingers and too familiar bandages over the knuckles of fore and pinkie fingers.

"Look!" Dorian murmured, pointing ahead of them and to the right. "There's a brook over there. Looks promising for a stop on the way back down, don't you think?"

"Stop for what?" Klaus asked, looking at his companion a bit curiously.

"Oh, just because," Dorian answered, grip lightly caressing as they walked further up the trail.

"Just because... you live by such whims," Klaus managed to smile. Each step was well placed, guiding Dorian over the dips and rises of leaves and twigs, any possible point where an ankle could be twisted or foot caught. It was a natural action for him to be that sort of careful, so it left a lot of his mind free to look at the trees that, for the moment, were on either side of them.

"It's beautiful," Dorian whispered, the sound a sigh of pure pleasure. "Oh, Klaus..." For a moment, he hugged himself against the other man's arm, then sighed again. "I'm so glad we came here."

"Hiking, or to America?" Klaus asked with a quirk of his lips.

"Both!" came the happy decision, Dorian sighing again.

"Will you be able to enjoy yourself so much when we go back to Europe?" he asked seriously. And where in Europe -- London, or Bonn?

That seemed to require serious thought, for Dorian shook his head. "I don't know," he said finally. "I really don't know. There are things to DO in Europe, things..." Things that might take Klaus away from him, somehow. "Things that might separate us, one way or another. I don't know."

"What things?"

"I don't know," Dorian said softly, shrugging. "My thievery, your feelings of devotion towards your family... I don't know..."

"I thought we were going to work together," Klaus almost reminded -- hoping inside, with a desperate sense, that Dorian hadn't decided against that. If he had, where would that leave Klaus?

Dorian paused, smiling at him. "I want to desperately. I just have this fear you'll get tired of me... That's all."

"Don't bother being scared of that," Klaus told him, squeezing Dorian's hand as he looked up at the trail ahead of them, and then the trees again. "I won't. I couldn't."

"I'm glad." So softly that was spoken, it almost went unheard, but the clasp of Dorian's hand in his did not change.

For a while, they continued in silence, walking steadily up the trail. Every now and then, they would pause, but for the most part, it was a steady journey until Dorian spoke again. "Almost there!"

"The steepest part," Klaus agreed; they'd been hiking the path for perhaps two or so hours now, a walk that he took easily, his body glad for a return to old habits.

A slightly dreamy smile crossed Dorian's face -- flitting fantasies of falling and being rescued dancing through his brain, even though such a thing was utterly unlikely. He wasn't the sort of man to do that! "Let's go!"

"A race to the top?" Klaus asked, letting go of Dorian's hand to observe the stretch, a long curve that disappeared as it reached the top.

"Why not?" Dorian laughed, and promptly took off before Klaus could even think of running!

Klaus had sheer stamina, but not Dorian's playful speed -- and no already building reserve of adrenaline to power him along. He started just seconds after Dorian, but couldn't beat him to the top, where the path burst from well-tracked dirt and leaves into a well groomed lawn and cement path.

"I WIN!" Dorian whooped, turning slightly and coming to a halt, flinging his arms around Klaus as he slowed down, as well. "YES!"

"You cheated, you thief!" Klaus laughed, still moving forwards with Dorian caught in his arms for a moment. There were few people there at the time, only the employees of the park and a small smattering of people; and Klaus didn't care -- it was a joy to see Dorian show his old jubilance. "Hey... I'll race you to the tower!"

And then he took off at full speed towards the monument the moment he let go of Dorian.

"KLAUS!" Oh, it was a delight to hear that yell from behind him, the other man racing to keep up and not quite making it for the laughter that he couldn't hold back.

Dorian couldn't remember when he'd last enjoyed himself so much! It was a delight, and more than a delight, and he loved every last minute of it, even when they stopped at the base of the monument. "Oh, DARLING!"

Laughing wolfishly, Klaus pulled open the wooden door of the tall tower, and held it open for Dorian to come into the stone structure with him.

"You win!" Dorian conceded, panting slightly. "Ohhh!!"

"Come along, Dorian -- we've got the stairs ahead of us, so you can see the view!" Klaus told him firmly, offering his right hand out to Dorian.

Hand in hand, Dorian moved up the stairs beside him, feet hurrying along the way. "I'll bet it's *gorgeous*!" the blond said enthusiastically. What a wonderful day it had been so far!

"It's supposed to be!" Klaus agreed, as they took the winding flight all the way up to the platform at the top, with its viewing windows. Beyond the windows they could see more than just the mountain -- sectioned off pieces of land, splashes of color, bright and crisp from the turning trees, the scatterings of houses and the little town they were staying in, far in the distance.

"Ohhhhh," Dorian let out a little gasp, eyes going wide. "It's BEAUTIFUL! It's worth the entire trip!!"

/Hiking with you and seeing your face just now was worth the entire trip. Hearing you laugh.../ Klaus's gaze drifted between the view, and Dorian's awe struck face, before he looked out the window again, and down.

Below, a familiar figure moved, coat tucked closely about him, envelope in hand, and it caught his eye. It was not a flamboyant figure; not a terribly attractive one, either. No, it was that of a fairly large man, hat upon his bald head, sunglasses on.

Mischa.

Klaus instantly slipped into a mood Dorian thought he would never see again -- sharply observant and strictly calm; he didn't stop watching the Soviet.

"What's wrong?" His voice was not a whisper; instead, it was a low murmur, British drawl gone crisp, his own eyes following Klaus's gaze and widening upon seeing the person below. "Hm."

"Ja," Klaus drawled, watching as another -- a casually dressed Tank -- approached Mischa.

What were the fucking chances of THAT happening, with them there, so far from Europe!

"Well," Dorian said softly, watching the two move to exchange information. "THAT certainly puts an interesting question to mind..."

"Which one?" Klaus asked in a low-toned rumble.

"First off, what they're doing. Second, can we steal it? Third, is it worth the effort? Fourth, how on earth did we manage to come here at just the right time?" Dorian paused. "There are others, but those are my main questions, just now."

"Five, how the fuck can we avoid it? It's just the damned Yanks, Dorian," Klaus growled. Mischa, too, though, and that was rivalry that had gone back before Dorian had ever known Klaus was alive.

The response that Dorian gave was slow, serious. "Maybe," he said finally. "But I think we should keep an eye out, all the same."

"Yes; we'll stay up here until they've left," Klaus decided; he wanted to see where each one went, to be stored away in his mind.

"Hmmmm." With a sigh, Dorian shook his head and smiled, eyes sparkling slightly. "I love you when you're like this, Klaus! So serious, so beautiful..."

"Dorian..." In earlier days, he would have snapped, bellowing and perhaps given away their location. Now, though, there was only a whisper of, "Not now."

"Yes... Klaus..." The sound of it was almost disappointed, but Dorian didn't move away from him. Instead, he simply shifted a bit closer, and continued to watch, as well.

They watched papers trade hands, and then watched the two agents part, shaking hands briskly before heading in opposite directions. "One of them hiked, the other drove." Mischa was *not* the hiker, he knew... Dorian's hand was grabbed, and Klaus started quickly down the stairs. "We're going to get the license number of whatever vehicle he came in!"

From there, it was a pell mell run down the stairs, Dorian right behind him, and they only stopped once they were in the parking lot. A tan sedan pulled past them -- a rental car, Lincoln Continental.

Mischa was in it, and he'd seen them just as well as they'd seen him.

"ABT-269. ABT-269 -- Dorian, remember that," Klaus said, still mouthing it to himself as he watched the car roll down the rocky drive.

"ABT-269," Dorian repeated obediently enough. "A, B and T are agents. 2 plus 6 is 8 plus one more number is 9...."

"Let's hike back down," Klaus sighed, rolling the plate's tags around in his mind. "It'll take us a while, anyway -- 't'll be suppertime by then. 's already too late to call over to Bonn."

"First thing in the morning," Dorian promised him, still holding his hand. "D'you want to take the easy way down, or hike the trail again?"

"We can take the trail." Klaus was already turning back the way they'd come. "You wanted to stop by that pond..."

"Brook," Dorian reminded gently.

"Yeah." Klaus kept a hold of Dorian's hand as they crossed where cement became dirt again. More things to crowd his mind, seeing Mischa there, thoughts of the Stasi rising up, inadequacy, being unable to protect Dorian properly.

A few moments' silence led Dorian to softly ask, "Are you all right?"

One booted foot crunched down in a pile of leaves, and he could see Klaus tense before he realized it was his own. "Ja."

"It will be all right," Dorian promised him quietly. "It will be, darling..."

"Look at our luck, Dorian, and tell me that!"

"Our luck will get better!" Dorian declared. "It will!"

"Yours might; mine never has." /And it's not safe for you, Dorian... I can't put you at risk.../ Couldn't pursue this any further than passing the information on to Bonn, if they'd take it from him.

If.

The set of his jaw should have told Dorian of the familiar steadfast determination that was setting into Klaus.

"All right, darling," Dorian agreed calmly. "Whatever you say."

"You don't believe me." /Of course he doesn't; you're lying, after all.../ The crisp breeze seemed, just then, to be taunting him more than just blowing.

"It's not that," Dorian denied. "I just... It's just worrying," he admitted quietly. "Our little calm world's intruded upon now."

"I'd almost think someone's setting us up," Klaus said, barely under his breath, as he grasped Dorian's hand a little tighter. "We're going to play this carefully; I won't have you hurt."

"I'm a grown man," Dorian told him, moving close to him. "I'll be careful, Klaus... we'll do things the way you want them done."

"No doing anything behind my back, all right?"

It hurt, a little, that Klaus thought he would, but he supposed it was deserved. He'd certainly done just that often enough in the past... "All right."

The hand that held his squeezed once more, Klaus's expression a tense one as he continued down the path, finally stopping at a little niche in the trees, dragging Dorian with him.

"Klaus?" he asked softly, surprised.

"I want to put a delay between us reaching the bottom and any chance of Mischa waiting there for us," he explained.

"...oh...." That sounded a little disappointed as Dorian looked up at him from beneath that heavy fringe of gold lashes, eyes darkened slightly from a sudden want. "Hm."

They moved a little deeper into the niche before Klaus was satisfied, sitting down on a felled tree and pulling Dorian with him. The area certainly looked well used, for purposes Klaus didn't want to guess yet.

"A kissing spot," Dorian said faintly, smiling at Klaus just a bit weakly. At first, he'd thought that was what Klaus intended to use it for...

"A what?" Klaus asked, too attuned to listening to sounds of the trail to have been paying Dorian too much attention; the words had passed him right by.

"A kissing spot," Dorian told him solemnly. "You know. A place in the trail where people stop for kissing, and... that sort of thing."

/Of course he would notice something like that./ Somehow having that explained to him only made him nervous now, already on edge -- was Dorian expecting something of him...? "Oh."

For a while, silence continued, Dorian sitting beside him, staring out at the trail on which they *weren't* hiking and along which no one was coming. /I wish.../ Well, he wished Klaus would kiss him was what, but that was too much to ask for in the light of day, he supposed, and particularly *sober*.

"I think it's safe," Klaus murmured after another moment, looking over to Dorian. "Do you want to go?"

"...sure," Dorian agreed, attention caught as he looked over at Klaus and smiled. "Let's go now." Even though he really wished Klaus had kissed him....

"Is... there something wrong?" Klaus asked after a moment, stopping short of leaving the little area -- something seemed off about Dorian, though it was nothing he could pinpoint.

"Oh... nothing in particular," Dorian said. "Just feeling a bit wistful, I suppose..." After all, who wouldn't? The little side grotto into which they'd stepped was beautiful and obviously meant for romance. That was as much Dorian's nature as it was anything else....

"Wistful," Klaus repeated; he couldn't understand it -- wistful after spotting KGB agents in their vacation spot in America... "Let's go, Dorian." His right hand was held out, offered to the blonde man to keep him safe and close.

"All right..." His hand was taken, and Dorian moved close to him, smiling slightly. That yearning expression was still on his face, though, as if nothing could wipe it away from there.

Klaus wanted to ask 'why' Dorian looked that way, but then were soon making their way down the trail again. He found himself lingering at times, caught up in the wonder of such beautiful nature.

"It's gorgeous, isn't it?" Dorian whispered to him as he paused at a bend in the trail where sunlight spilled down and struck a vein of quartz in the mountainside. It turned to pure molten gold on the way to the ground, almost enough to fool the eye into believing that it was real. The whisper reflected almost exactly what Klaus was thinking, that blond head settling momentarily on his shoulder.

"Ja," Klaus sighed, tone so very quiet as he looked at that. "Ja... Dorian, I want to keep relaxing here a while more. I'm not sure... I'm well enough to go back yet to doing things."

"It's all right, Klaus. That's why we're on vacation, isn't it?" Dorian asked him, nodding. "So that we can recuperate before we go into business...."

But seeing Mischa had boosted his *duty* into readiness; not the rest of his mind or all of his body. "I'll call Bonn tomorrow, give them the plate number and tell them what I saw, and then that's it," he said, tone odd -- as if he were convincing himself of it.

"All right," Dorian agreed somberly. "It's all right, darling. That's what we'll do, then."

"This isn't normal for me," Klaus finally said, tone uneasy as they continued to take the trail down. "I've never..." Been so unsure.

"It will get better, darling," came the promise. "I know it will. We.... we're not ready to go back to being who or what we were, are we?" the Briton questioned, uncertain. "Or... like we were?" Oh, he wouldn't be able to bear it, if Klaus went back to the way things were before!!

"I don't think... we'll go back to the way we were," Klaus spoke, tone a tentative one, but he at least said it. "No, we're not ready to work again yet. But at least I can still shoot."

"Oh." The sound in that voice was one that was purely relief, Dorian moving closer to him. "I don't think I can bear it if we go back to that," he whispered, laying his head on Klaus's shoulder as they continued down the trail. "Really, I just don't think I could..."

"I... I wouldn't want to. Even if you do enter the bathroom without knocking," the German whispered, slipping his hand free of Dorian's grasp to slid it around the man's waist. God, Dorian had corrupted him completely, to get such word and actions from him in public... but it helped both of them. And felt good; anything that felt good, that could drives away old memories...

With a smile, Dorian sighed slightly. "I'm glad," he said simply. "I'm so glad, Klaus."

Klaus was silent for the last downward leg of the hike, a little tired but in a good way, as he moved to slip behind the steering wheel. Until that moment, though, he hadn't let go of Dorian's comfortable form. "Where should we eat dinner tonight?"

"Hmmm... we could try Bob's again," Dorian suggested. "Even cold, the steak was awfully good. Maybe I'll even try something *exotic*..." Well, while he was sure nothing on the menu was TRULY exotic, some of it had sounded a little *odd* to him. Why not?

"Clam chowder, you mean?" Klaus asked, putting the key in the ignition. "All right, then -- I'll get us there. Did you like the hike?"

"Oh, yes! It was gorgeous!" the other man said, nodding. "Thank you, Klaus. That was a marvelous thing to do today." /I only wish I'd had the nerve to kiss you when we stopped.../ "We should do it again sometime..."

/And maybe put that 'kissing place' to a little use,/ Klaus mused, quickly pushing that thought down before it reached more of his conscious mind or made him feel sick. No, his nerves were wound tight enough as is. "Tomorrow we can hike outside the house. And I want to try to swim..."

"Darling, I believe I'll lay on the dock and *watch* you," Dorian informed him. "That water's going to be *awfully* cold..."

"I might not do anything more than sit on those steps that go into it and put my feet in," Klaus shrugged, truthful at least, about that. "I've been in colder water than anything this place would pull up." Alaska, in fact... /Don't think of that, don't think of missions.../

"I believe a cold shower's almost more than I can bear," Dorian admitted wryly. "I don't think I'd really care to try my luck with the water of that lake!!"

"Then you can sit and watch, or fish me out when I turn into ice," Klaus said as he backed out of the gravel parking lot and took off down the road. "But I'm still going to try."

At that, Dorian laughed. "Mmmm, well, I'll watch you closely and save you from hypothermia," he declared, stopping to yawn. "Ohhh. That was delicious. I'm sure we'll sleep quite well tonight, or I will, anyway." He always did in Klaus's arms, but he'd be tired from their hike tonight, and that would be good.

"Would you be willing to go running with me, Dorian?" Klaus asked, glancing over at his companion. If they did everything together, why not at least expand their range...?

"ONLY if I get to wear those fun little silky running shorts," Dorian teased. "Then, I'll do anything you like!"

"You have a pair of those with you?" /No, what am I saying...? Just... just that I want him at my side all the time./ And if he had Dorian at his side while he ran, it would probably cancel out part of his reason for running.

"Mmmm, no, but I could buy some, don't you think?" the other man asked. "In blue. You like blue, don't you? Or green. Green might be better..." Anything but red. Klaus didn't like red at all, even though it looked TERRIBLY good on Dorian! So, no red.

"Whatever color you want; tomorrow we'll go find out where more stores are, anyway," Klaus said, taking a turn smoothly. "After, that is, you've thawed me out."

That made Dorian laugh, which in turn made Klaus a bit proud of himself. The fact that Dorian *could* laugh again, could smile, could... could just be *Dorian* every now and then... it meant so much to him, even though he never would have thought that it could. "No problem, darling. I'm excellent at thawing."

"Which reminds me... next time we drink together, just one shot each, right?" best to keep the light, comfortable banter going, since it seemed to be working.

"Oh, GOD, yes," Dorian agreed. "I hate hangovers. They're awful..." Even though he had deeply enjoyed every last moment of the moments they'd spent together while drunk, touching, kissing...

"And being drunk just makes everything fuzzy." Like the details of how his pants had become a sticky mess, and why he'd slept in them. But nothing had been mentioned about that interlude, so perhaps...

"Beautifully so," Dorian sighed dreamily. "But I'm awfully sure that I find the morning after abhorrent..."

"You like everything fuzzy?"

That gained him a smile. "Sometimes. If I'm fuzzy with you."

The smile made his mood lift, but the words... the words struck him almost sharply, even though Dorian hadn't meant them the way Klaus took them. "Would... it be all right if you weren't fuzzy?" /Or is that the only way you can stand to have me touching you?/

"It would be even better, then," Dorian said softly. "Only I can't imagine you wanting to... well... with me.... if you weren't..."

Subject breached, and the wall couldn't just be patted closed. /Talk with him./ "It... brings up things I don't want to deal with, but..." /I want it; it feels good./

"But?" Dorian asked him quietly.

"I want... you, only, if you *knew* what I wanted, if... you wouldn't want me too," Klaus said, tone edged with unease.

The next question was asked solemnly, Dorian's face quite serious. "Why?"

"Because it's sick." Tense words from Klaus, as he tried to not think of what he was saying to Dorian.

"Because of what you saw?" The questioning was almost gentle, both of them watching the road ahead of them more than one another. "What you saw wasn't right. That's true..."

"But it's..." What he wanted to do. He wanted to take Dorian, make him cry out from the feeling of it, wanted to feel a warm mouth around his cock, but... but all of that hurt Dorian, and he couldn't *hurt* Dorian. It was already bad enough that it was against everything he'd declared for years of his existence.

"What you saw was... rape, Klaus. Plain and simple." God, he hated that word, hated knowing someone had done it to him, couldn't bear the thought of it, but... "What would happen between us would be nothing like that. Nothing...."

"God-dammit, I *know* what happened," Klaus snapped in a low tone. "I can't be sure I wouldn't hurt you. I... I just can't."

"Would you..." Dorian swallowed hard. "Would you be upset if I showed you?" he whispered.

"S-showed?" Klaus's eyes widened a little, still looking at the road. "No, Dorian. We're not... I mean... There's no need for either of us to be... any more humiliated."

"It wouldn't humiliate me!" That golden head shook slightly, a negative motion. "I've... Klaus, it's not as though what we're talking about isn't something I've never done before..." He bit his lower lip nervously. "It's... it's wonderful, really, when someone..." Loves you, he wanted to say. "When someone is tender with you and kind. It's magnificent..."

"We're talking about something *I've* never done before." Klaus chanced a glance over at Dorian's face, wondering if the conversation brought the same blush to Dorian's face that he could feel burning on his own cheeks.

"I know. That's why I volunteered to show you. You... you can just watch. If you want," Dorian finished hurriedly.

"No, I don't want to... watch anything," he told Dorian, knowing that it would only bring up memories of being unable to *not* watch Dorian. "I know... that we need to figure this out before we go back to Europe, before we... live together for real, work together..."

"If you want me, Klaus..." Dorian drew in a deep breath and sighed. "I'm yours. You know that. I've always wanted you. And now, you're so tender and so good to me..." Klaus wouldn't hurt him, wouldn't pinch or twist or force too much into him or make him do anything that he didn't want to do!

"[I can't deal with this.]" A miserable utterance made under his breath, focusing his eyes on the winding road they were driving along. "I don't know."

For a moment, Dorian had to think about what Klaus had said. "All right. We don't have to talk about it now," he said solemnly. "It's all right, Klaus..."

The hands on the steering wheel, one still bearing the brace from when he'd fractured it against the wall, the other more permanently maimed, were white knuckled in their grasp on the leather covered metal. "We keep putting it off -- *I* keep putting it off, so it only comes up again."

"Klaus, you want to, and you're afraid to," Dorian replied. "That's more than understandable! I don't mind that we talk about it and put it off. If it makes you so uncomfortable..."

"I don't like having things hanging over my head," he told the other man seriously. "And this... hangs over my head every night."

The thief nodded, closing his eyes and laying his head back against the seat before saying quietly, "Klaus. Whenever you want to try something, tell me. Whatever you want to do, you don't have to be ashamed to say it. I..." Dorian turned his head, opened his eyes to look at him. "I don't feel that I'm worthy of your affection, you know. I don't. But I would never, *ever* be appalled at you or shocked or hate you for anything. Even after... after everything, I still love you. I do. Nothing could stop that. Nothing could make me ashamed of *you*, even if I'm ashamed of myself. You understand? Do you see? I love you. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry..."

"Dorian, there... there's nothing to be sorry for. Nothing." This was what had been so wrong since it had happened -- they ran in ruts, caught in trains of thought that apparently they could only pretend to leave. That realization brought a stabbing glimpse of themselves to Klaus, two ruined people together. "Please don't do this, Dorian."

"Don't love you?" Dorian asked. "I can't help it. Truly. I..." His brows knit. "I didn't used to be ashamed of myself for it. I don't know if I am now or if I just feel... that I should apologize to you for it. You never asked for me to love you or wanted me to, only I can't help it. I just do. I just have. It's *just* *there*. Even though it always made you ashamed and humiliated you and I suppose it's that I'm sorry for..."

"No," he broke in, before Dorian could go on. He'd been keeping an eye out for a point where they could pull off safely, and here the shoulder on the road was more than generous enough to stop the car. "No, I mean... we... we get *caught* in things, Dorian. It... my English isn't good enough for this. We keep repeating ourselves."

"....oh...." Dorian paused. "You mean... my apologizing to you..."

"Ja! We've been doing it for weeks now!" Klaus told him, expression now drawn taut in concern for *both* of them.

"Well... you know, what happened was awfully traumatic, Klaus," Dorian said, gnawing at his lower lip. "It was. And I think maybe we just need time. A little time, and it will get better, I'm sure of it! And if we're aware of it, then maybe we can change it!"

"If we keep aware of it. So, stop apologizing and... if you're going to tell me you love me, do it like you used to -- neither of us need it explained." Klaus turned more in his seat, unbuckling the seatbelt for a moment as he watched Dorian.

"Do you mind, now?" the blond man asked. "That I love you?"

"No, I can't; not when I think..." /That maybe what I feel for you is the 'love' you've spoken of so floweringly. But it doesn't make my heart sing, or any of your romantic mush. It makes me want to keep you close and safe./ "That I might, too. I don't know. 'm not sure."

"Oh, Klaus!" Dorian's hands were fumbling for his own safety belt, and once it was undone, he nearly flung himself against the other man, arms wrapping tightly around his shoulders. "Do you mean it?" he whispered. "Do you think... oh, *KLAUS*!" If Klaus loved him, *nothing* in the world could be so terrible that he couldn't live through it!

Klaus had wanted to pull Dorian into his arms when the man had started his too familiar apologies. Now he just let Dorian get close to him, slipped his own arms tightly around the blond's torso. "I... I don't know what it is. But I don't want to ever let you leave, or see you hurt again."

"Oh, Klaus," Dorian whispered again, face pressed to Klaus's throat. "I won't ever go away from you. I won't. I swear it. Never..."

"'s good," Klaus sighed, closing his eyes as he felt his body give in to relaxation at last. It was something that, oddly enough, he could only find in such a strong form when in Dorian's arms. Only then... "I don't want to not have you."

"You won't ever have to, darling," Dorian whispered, almost drunk on Klaus's words. "Ever. Ever. I'll be with you always!" So extravagant of him to say, but so true!

"As long as... we're both sure of that," the German murmured, pressing Dorian a little closer. "Everything else... should just be easier."

"All right," Dorian agreed simply, still holding Klaus closely. He could feel his heart pounding, veins almost surging with the sheer intensity of joy. "That sounds wonderful."

"And if I start... repeating myself, stop me," he uttered, words a sighed breath against Dorian's hair. "Let's go eat. Then we can go back to the house and watch the news." Sit close, talk about nothing, laugh at the stupid Yanks...

With a little sigh that drifted over Klaus's throat, Dorian pulled back slightly, practically *glowing*. "Sounds like a marvelous plan, darling," he whispered, daring to press a kiss lightly to the other man's lips.

A kiss Klaus let happen, unchallenged -- and when Dorian drew back, grey-green eyes weren't averted. He was looking at Dorian -- still so confused and lost looking, but at least now he had something other than himself to use as an anchor. "All right."

With a little sigh that was purely happiness, Dorian settled back into his seat and put his seatbelt on again. "Oh, God, I'm happy," he said softly, shaking his head. "I feel almost surreal, as if I shouldn't exist but somehow *do*..."

"Why's that?" Klaus asked him, moving back to sit straight in his seat, buckling the belt before he started the car again.

"Because I never thought you'd ever feel anything but anger for me after all these years," Dorian said lightly. "And the fact that you do... I could just burst."

"How much I hated you at first... that was the worst of it," Klaus said, pulling back onto the mostly empty road.

That gained a sudden little chuckle and a confession. "I still have your tank, you know. It's in *marvelous* condition."

"You do..? I'll have to see it sometime." And make sure it was still a functioning vehicle; but there was no reason to take it away from Dorian, not the way things are now. "I thought... at first that you might have sold it to the Soviets."

"Oh, *heavens*, no!" Dorian told him, a little appalled. "I've kept it and had it repaired and it's quite a beautiful thing. You said that you loved it," the man sighed wistfully, "because steel was beautiful to you. I couldn't bear to part with it after that."

"You kept it out of... sentiment?" Romantic mush, but... but it made him smile for a faint moment. "Hmh."

"Well... you *liked* it," Dorian told him sheepishly. "Jamesie bitched awfully about the upkeep of the thing, but I told him I was going to have it and that was that."

"You... you're still going to work with your men, aren't you?"

Blue eyes darted over to look at him. "...yes. Does that bother you? It's who I am, you know, and who they are. And how could I do without them? They're my family..." All he had, really, since his mother had taken his sisters and abandoned him to remain with his father, calling them both 'unnatural'.

"Bonham and Jones are all right fellows," he said after thinking for a moment. "But your money-bug and I have never gotten along; still, I don't want you to lose your family. I'll just adjust."

"Thank you," Dorian told him, smiling helplessly. Now, THAT was love, even if Klaus hadn't put that name to it. "I do adore Jamesie, and he *is* awfully good to me sometimes.... and he *does* keep me from overspending terribly..."

"I can help you watch that, too." He could also subsidize the household a little with his pension; not quite how he'd expected to be living once he retired, but then, nothing was quite as he expected.

"It isn't that there's no money, darling, and God knows I can just sell a few things if we need any, but if left to my own devices, I can't balance a cheque book to save my life," came the sheepish admission.

"I've been taught how to do that and manage an estate for when..." /If./ "...it's my turn to see to that duty."

"Wonderful!" Dorian could already see the number of thundering arguments Klaus and James would have, probably resulting in the little accountant running off to hide somewhere. Well... they'd figure something out. "Oh, there's the restaurant!" Dorian sighed. "I'm starving!"

"If you get sick from something odd you try here, I'll drive back," he said, tossing Dorian the keys one he'd rolled into the lot and parked it.

Dorian's agreement was cheerful enough as they headed through the parking lot and into the restaurant. "I believe I'll just try their special or something," he said as he opened the door and stepped in. "What about you?"

"Oh, I'll stick with the steak," he began to say, though his gaze *snapped* to one corner of the room as they entered.

"Major Eberbach?!" A exclaimed first, and that brought Z's head up from the little stack of papers he was studying.

"Oh!" Dorian said, blinking visibly. "Ah... darling," he whispered, "I think this puts a bit of a twist on things." So much for vacation!

As if Klaus needed to be told it put a twist on things! He moved forwards, towards the table where the men who were once his Alphabet Soup sat, an odd mixture of military and strained civilian style clothing. "Why are all of you here?" Though he no longer had the authority, he could certainly *ask* why his old life was so violently intruding on his new one!

"Er... well, sir," A began a bit nervously before looking to Z for an explanation. What to tell the Major!? For surely he was still the Major to *all* of them...

"We're here on duty... sir," Z said, meeting the Major's one-eyed, and still very stern gaze. "There's activity in the area..."

"ABT-269," Klaus uttered, "is the license plate of the car Mischa got into."

"He saw us about the same time that *we* saw him," Dorian admitted.

"He was at Mt. Greylock with an American... Z, you'd better not tell me you're basing the mission out of here," Klaus growled.

"No, sir," Z said. "I won't tell you that." Well... it was true, but he wasn't going to *tell* the Major that!!!

"You know," Dorian said, glancing at Klaus, "there's the basement..."

Old life, intruding so closely on new again... "Dorian, order dinner -- to go; men, get out to your cars, I'll give you directions," Klaus murmured almost reluctantly. /If I can't serve directly, I can serve indirectly./

"They can follow us," Dorian suggested. "It won't take long..."

Klaus gave the men a dubious look -- if they were idiotic enough to be setting up camp in a *restaurant*, could they truly be smart enough to follow them...?

"Fine," he assented after a moment's thought. "But get dinner."

"Yes, Klaus!" was the cheerful reply, all of the Alphabet watching them with shock as Dorian hurried over to the cashier and placed an order -- one for two of everything in the place, and could they get it delivered, or did they need to wait?

The lady agreed, stunned, that she could get someone to deliver all of it if he would give them the address. He cheerfully did before trotting back to Klaus, smiling. "We can go now. Dinner'll be coming after us. If the Alphabet's already eaten, we'll just stuff it all somewhere to be warmed up tomorrow!"

That hadn't been Klaus's exact idea, but... well, Dorian would always be extravagant, and sometimes he could bear it. "All right -- Z, follow my car," he said, reaching for the keys that he'd earlier tossed to Dorian, as they all headed out into the parking lot.

"Yes, sir!" Z replied promptly, all of the Alphabet standing up at his prompting to follow after the thief and their Major.

"Darling, I think your Alphabet is happy to see us," Dorian whispered noisily, glancing back at all of those grinning faces.

"Hmm." So much for a vacation, or even the hopes he'd had for a quiet evening. "The first person who breaks anything in the house gets killed -- we're renting it," he growled over his shoulder as a warning as he unlocked the doors of the rental car, and then slid in. Klaus waited until Dorian was in, buckled up, and until most of the Alphabets who were there were in their cars, before pulling out and onto Route Seven.

"Don't you think killing them would be a little extreme, darling?" Dorian teased, smiling at him. "We could just send them out swimming in that freezing cold water, instead. That's almost as good as Alaska!"

"I don't think it's that cold out," Klaus said, keeping a track of them in his rear view as he took the road steadily. "Where will be put them up? Idiots seemed to have just gotten into a plane without too much plan laid out; ten of them. The other sixteen must be on assignment or desk work."

"Or, God forbid, on their way," Dorian pointed out. "I haven't seen anything resembling a hotel. I suppose they could sleep on the floor..." Though what would they say when Dorian and Klaus went to bed together?? What if Klaus wouldn't go to bed with him since they were there? How could he sleep!? /Maybe this was a very bad idea.../

"Two in the spare bedroom, two in the attic, two in the office-craft room, four in the living room," Klaus murmured, working through the spaces of the house in his mind. "They'll manage."

And THAT meant Klaus would still be sleeping with him, which made him sigh with relief. "You're brilliant, Klaus!"

"Don't say that," he sighed, shaking his head. No, if he was brilliant they wouldn't even *be* in America... /Stop that. Don't think that way, Eberbach./ "We'll help how we can on this, but otherwise we're just giving them a place to stay."

"Yes, Klaus!" Dorian agreed cheerfully, glancing in the rear view mirror at the cars following behind them. "I'm glad to offer your Alphabet some help. They're good men, really."

It was hard to forget the outward crying of some that day he'd left. "I know." He'd always known, even if he did keep them in line with threats -- it was for their own sake, anyway.

With a pleased sigh, Dorian settled back in his seat, happy to simply stay where he was for the moment. "I'm sure we'll have our supper soon, darling. We can watch the news while the Alphabets putter a bit, perhaps?"

"Get themselves sorted out down in the basement," Klaus agreed. that would be hard, to not do a thing when there was his old job calling to him, so fucking close by!

"Sounds like a plan," the tall blond murmured as they pulled into the driveway.

They stopped right in front of the garage door, and Klaus got out to pull it up, before pulling the rental in. There was enough room for one more car, and then the rest would have to park in the driveway and scrape pine-tar off their vehicles come morning. "This isn't going to change anything?" he asked, shutting the car off, before he opened the car door.

"I hope not," Dorian said softly. "I wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable, but I don't want anything to change, either. If it would make you feel better, I... I'll try not to cling so that everyone can see me do it..." That was the best he could offer!

"I don't care; we.... are the way we are. If it bothers them, too fucking bad. I don't work for NATO anymore," he told Dorian, before he did open the door, to find A, B, K, H and Z getting out of the car that had pulled into the garage beside them. "You can use this basement for whatever you want. Dinner will probably arrive soon. There's enough space for all of you to sleep upstairs."

"Thank you, sir!" Z told him with an expression that was almost purely worshipful... too sweet, Dorian thought. "We appreciate this very much!"

"Darling." Dorian nudged Klaus slightly. "The holster? Is it upstairs?"

The holster... "Later," Klaus murmured, turning to go upstairs; he fully expected the Alphabets to set up for themselves, and figure out what they were doing without him there. And he would give Z his old holster, only not with so many others there.

"See you later," Dorian told them with a wave as the rest of the Alphabet filed into the garage through a side door. After that, he followed Klaus through the musty smelling basement and up the stairs towards the kitchen.

The door between the first floor and the basement was closed, but not locked as it had been the night before. Now they were alone again, but with nothing to do, and the Alphabets so close... "I'll turn on the television -- do you want to make tea or something?"

"All right," Dorian agreed, moving to the kitchen sink to fill the kettle. "That sounds marvelous. I think we've probably got something to snack on somewhere -- I bought those shortbread cookies, and I'm starving, darling. How about you?"

"I'll have one," he shrugged, turning the channel to the news that was already showing -- a glance at his clock showed it was already later than he'd thought. "News is on."

"Be right there!" Dorian called, putting the kettle on the stove and scrounging up the cookies before heading in to sit down beside Klaus, curled against his side. "Here," he offered, smiling at him for a moment. There was something bothering Klaus, and he knew what it was, but... "Are you okay?" he asked seriously, nudging the other man slightly.

"Almost," Klaus murmured, taking the offered shortbread and chewing it in as he shifted a little closer to Dorian as he took in the information that the American news was covering. More about their football strike -- most of their news was domestic centralized, just like the paper that was delivered daily.

"Do you know, American news is the most deadly dull thing in the world?" Dorian declared. "It's no wonder they think they're the center of the universe. No one else ever tells them anything's out there past their borders!"

"Sodding Idiot Yanks -- do you ever notice that we never have to call their fucking FBI or CIA over to help *us*, but they're always asking us for help in their internal problems. They're idiots. I'm sure of it," Klaus sighed. "None of the channels here have real news."

The suggestion that they could always go downstairs and *ask* for real news died on Dorian's tongue as the kettle went off. "Tell you what. Let's take our tea and sit out on the parch, shall we? Or, better yet... kiss me," he asked prettily enough, ignoring the shrill shriek for the moment.

Klaus still hadn't worked through things enough to reply playfully and then do it; no, he had to pause a moment, before he leaned over and pressed his mouth against Dorian's soft, warm lips, a gentle kiss taken carefully. "We can watch the lake from the porch," Klaus murmured, standing up when Dorian did, as he broke the kiss.

"That sounds wonderful," Dorian agreed, almost dreamy as he sighed and smiled at the other man. Ohh, life was beyond good, he decided even as he headed towards the kitchen to pour up tea for both of them.

Klaus lingered a moment by the door between basement and kitchen, listening to the sounds of his men talking and writing things down. Hopefully they'd put what he'd told them to good use. Then he joined Dorian in the kitchen, watching the other man make the tea. "Well... we can't ruin making that," he pointed out with the edge of a smile on his lips.

"I'm very good at *this*," Dorian told him teasingly, lightly handing him the first cup and saucer before fixing his own and adding sugar to the brew even before it was done. "Shall we go outside? Isn't there a swing or something there?"

"No swing, but there's a bench right up against the railing," Klaus told him, waiting until Dorian was done before he moved through the dining room and the great room to the sliding glass door. a door which found itself pushed open in short order. From there, it was a short enough trip to the bench Klaus had mentioned, a cushioned affair that was actually fairly comfortable and which would allow them to lean against the railing and look out over the lake.

The sun was almost beneath the horizon, now, and the sky was stained pink and purple in love shades of almost-amethyst, and Dorian sighed. "Oh, incomparable..."

It was hard to believe that the peace of the place was being threatened by the men down in the basement, whose voices Klaus voice vaguely hear just then. But he focussed his eyes hard on the lake beyond them, the faint colored ripples that caught the reflection of the setting sun and the sky before it. He took a long draught of the tea, and then slid his right hand around Dorian's waist. "It is."

"I love you, Klaus," Dorian said quietly, laying his head on the other man's shoulders, cup and saucer lightly clasped in both careful hands. "I've never been happier than this moment with you, I think."

"You say that every time we're alone together, Dorian." Klaus' voice held a little amusement, and no chiding at all -- somehow, it pleased him to know he was making Dorian happy like that, and soothing himself at the same time.

"Maybe," Dorian agreed. "But it's true. Each time just gets better."

"I think you're just happy that... we're still... still," he sighed, though smiling. Still there, still touching, still comfortable with each other. "I still wish that mission hadn't been such a botch, but I don't regret anything since."

"I'm glad." He was, desperately, madly, *insanely* glad. It almost made up for all of the horror in some ways, especially since Klaus didn't... *LOOK* at him and see scars or a frightened man. No, he saw Dorian as *Dorian*, and that was a perfectly splendorous thing! "I've never regretted anything that had to do with me and you."

"I know you wouldn't," Klaus replied ruefully, pulling Dorian possessively closer to him, as close as he could without risking spilled tea.

At that moment, the sound of tires on gravel came to them; dinner had most *definitely* arrived! "Ohh, good! I'm *starving*, darling," Dorian said, smiling up at him. "Shall we go and fetch things or see if the Alphabet does?"

"Both, I suppose," Klaus murmured, holding Dorian close for a moment until he heard the garage door beneath them start to roll up. Then he rose, wallet ready to cover the costs if need be. "I'll go help -- you can stay here."

"I ordered it all, darling, I really ought to pay for it," Dorian protested, rising with him. "We'll both go, all right?"

A slightly incredulous sound, but Klaus wasn't going to protest too much -- he'd paid for all of the books they were still reading, so... "All right." Then he led the way down the wooden steps that took them beneath a pine-tree, and then across the grass to the driveway.

The woman who'd brought the food had been their waitress the morning that they'd stopped for breakfast and she was all smiles as she handed out vast amounts of food to waiting men and accepted money and tip from Dorian. "Hope you folks have a good time," she offered cheerfully, tucking the money away in a little naugahyde bag with the name of a bank on the front.

"I'm sure we will," Dorian replied cheerfully as the Alphabet trooped back into the house. "Have a nice night!"

Klaus was the one who lingered to make sure she was out of the drive before he closed the garage door again. "If anything needs to be heated up, just come into the kitchen," he told them, before heading back up the interior steps with Dorian, their own dinner finally sorted out from everyone else's and the extra.

"I'll fetch sheets and pillows and such later," Dorian offered, waving as they headed out of the basement. "And show you the bathrooms, if you need them!"

Klaus, though, was showing a definite want to *not* linger amongst them -- because he was completely torn between wanting to help more directly, and remembering that NATO didn't want him doing anything anymore. Knowing this was a familiarity, and the awkwardness of no longer being in command of those men...

"Sir?" Z asked quietly, all of the Alphabet looking up at him. "Ah... thank you. And thank you, Lord Gloria..."

"You're welcome," was the soft reply from the man who had once been their Major, their brilliant superior officer -- it was a sad tone, as Klaus pivoted sharply to walk quickly up the stairs.

With a slight wave, Dorian headed up after him, dinner balanced on a palm. /Poor Klaus. My poor darling Klaus. They'd be glad for you to help them, direct them, if only you would, and you still aren't ready for that yet, are you?/

And if he was ever ready to lead them again, what did it matter? He *wasn't* the Major anymore, couldn't give them orders...

Klaus sighed as he set the box down on the kitchen table, darted into the kitchen to get forks and knives, and then sat down again. "Did you close the door, Dorian?"

"Yes, darling," Dorian told him solemnly, poking at the 'clam chowdah'. "It's funny looking stuff. I'm not sure I really want to chance it..."

"You wanted something exotic," Klaus reminded him with a half-forced smile. "But it can't be worse than British food."

"Darling, it practically *jiggles* when I touch it," was the fascinated reply, a spoon poking at the stuff. "Kippers don't *jiggle*..."

"No -- kippers could be used to reinforce a wall. No one would ever accuse those of jiggling..."

The husky laughter that gained him helped to make him feel a bit better. "Mmm, well, you know, I suppose that's quite true, darling," Dorian chuckled, smiling at him. "I might brave a bite if you will."

"If I take a try, will you eat it?" Klaus asked, knowing at least that his *steak* was edible.

"I'll TRY to eat it," Dorian promised. If it was inedible, he'd go downstairs and steal something from the Alphabets!

"All I can expect," Klaus shrugged, darting his fork into the styrofoam bowl and taking a what clung to it.

"That just looks disgusting," came the declaration. "Really. Truly..."

The bite was swallowed, and Klaus wiped his fork neatly on the napkin. "Go get something from the extras downstairs," Dorian was told solemnly.

With a quiet chuckle, Dorian leaned across the table and kissed him as he stood, a press of lips that, thankfully, didn't gain him any of the taste of the jiggling stuff. "I'll be right back," he said lightly as he headed for the door.

Klaus nodded to that, cutting a quick piece of steak and chewing it promptly -- motions that cleaned his mouth of that odd taste, making it safe to enjoy his meal as best he could.

Downstairs, the Alphabet seemed *firmly* embroiled in something that was giving them fits, so Dorian simply placed the 'chowdah' with the other boxes and began peeking through them until he found a sandwich that looked edible. That done, he peeked over to see what they were doing. Mostly, they seemed to be hunched around papers, and so he simply shrugged and headed back up the stairs, sandwich box in hand.

Klaus had worked steadily through his steak by then, about half done before he switched to eating fried potatoes, looking over to see if Dorian had come up yet every so often.

"I found something edible, darling. It's got bacon and lettuce and all sorts of other goodies in it, and it smells MARVELOUS. And nothing jiggles," the man announced as he shut the door behind him.

"Sandwiches usually don't jiggle, Dorian," Klaus told him, taking a sip of the tea he'd retrieved from the back porch.

That gained him a smile as Dorian began to eat, shaking his head slightly. "That's very true," he agreed. "Klaus?"

"Ja?" came the lazy question, Klaus looking up from finishing the tea.

"Want to go to bed a little early?" Dorian asked. "We can take the cherries up with us..."

That got him a contemplative moment of silence, and Klaus looking at him querulously before replying, "I'd like to, but we have to show the Alphabets where to stay, and get out the blankets..."

"We can do all of that in just a moment. Show one of them, and the rest'll know where to go."

"We'll show Z, then," Klaus murmured, rising to his feet. /And I'll give him my old holster. And hopefully their mission will end quickly, and I'll be able to pretend that I don't want to be down there helping./

Dorian smiled at him, taking one more bite before laying his sandwich down for the moment and standing, as well. /Poor Klaus./ The dark-haired man's thoughts were almost visible on his face and it made Dorian feel... not sorry for him, not pity, but it did make him sad. /He ought to be able to do what he loves to do. Damn NATO./ "Come on. The linen closet's next to the bathroom. We ought to tell one of them to go fetch sleeping bags or something. I think the couch folds out, but there's a shortage of beds..."

"They can fold blankets and sleep on the floor," Klaus told Dorian; it wasn't as if the men hadn't done it before, and it was certainly better than trying to sleep in their cars. There really was nothing else in the world that could foul one's back up as much as sleeping in a car overnight... or maybe Klaus was just getting old. /One more thought not to think; that's just idiocy./ "You get blankets out, I'll show Z where the others can sleep." And with that, he turned to head down into the basement.

"Yes, Klaus!" Dorian's voice drifted down after him, followed by footsteps leading out of the kitchen.

In the basement, things were straightened and the Alphabets had set up several tables which were, by then, covered with papers and a variety of devices. A and C seemed to be completely caught up in something or other, and M was tracing out something on a map. "Sir?" Z asked, noting his presence and looking at him with a smile.

"Lord Gloria and I are going to retire for the evening -- let me show you where everything is upstairs so when all of you go to go to bed you won't be stumbling around," Klaus said slightly gruffly, with a nod as he stood at the base of the stairs.

"Yes, sir," Z answered promptly, nodding to L, who took over the work that they had been doing together. "We'll try to be quiet later tonight, then, and not disturb you any more than necessary. It was a surprise to see you here," he admitted as he followed Klaus up the stairs to the kitchen. "But not an unwelcome one."

"Lord Gloria and I didn't expect to run into any missions or operations when we came here," Klaus told Z, moving through the kitchen's side door to the next set of stairs and the living room. The implication was there that they'd chosen such an obscure place as Lanesborough to *be* away from it. "The couch there folds out, someone can sleep in the chair, and there's room on the floor for two more."

"Yes, sir," Z answered promptly, nodding. The Major was, without a doubt, someone he respected greatly. "We'll do our best not to bother you when we come up..." He supposed they could sleep in shifts, if that's all there was to be had....

The appearance of Lord Gloria caught the attention of both Germans as he hurried down the steps, sheets and blankets in hand. "There weren't really any extra pillows, much, but maybe you can make do with what's on the couch. I'm so sorry, Z..." He sounded as if the whole thing was some sort of sleep-over! That was Dorian, though, and most particularly Dorian-trying-to-set-Klaus-at ease.

And Klaus didn't even bat an eye at it. "There's more room, though -- I'll show you," he told Z, starting up the steps. "The spare rooms here both have a bed in them, so you could probably manage two in a room, and there's a room in the attic that can hold two. The bathroom is at the end of the hall here."

Z smiled at Lord Gloria as he hurried after them, sheets and blankets dumped willy nilly in a chair at the bottom of the stairs. "And we'll warn you, it might get a bit drafty, so I'll add extra blankets in those rooms. It's a nice house, but they really need to insulate the thing."

A nod of agreement from Klaus, and then he proceeded to point out each room to Z -- every room except the one near the attic's steps, which could easily be presumed to be shared by both Lord Gloria and Klaus. "And, Z... I want you to have my old holster. Hold on a moment and I'll get it."

"Yes, sir," Z answered, eyes shining in a manner that Dorian found disturbingly Klaus-like -- full of determination, glittering with a certain excitement, a certain danger. There was, however, an expression in that gaze which one did not often encounter with Klaus Heinz von dem Eberbach: a deep and abiding respect.

Klaus had turned away, though, before he saw that expression in Z's eyes; strode down the hallway and into the master bedroom, to return a few moments later with his old holster. "I don't have a use for it any longer, so..." He handed it to Z with a shrug.

"So, he thought you might like it," Dorian added, watching Z take the leather contraption with near-reverent hands.

"Thank you, Major," Z said, looking at him once again the same way he had before Klaus had moved away. "Thank you." More than that was lost to him; Klaus had always been his mentor, in many ways, and he looked up to the man quite a bit. It just seemed somehow *perfect*, that unexpected gift, and had he been anyone or anything other than the German man he was, he might have teared up at that moment.

It felt, to Klaus, almost like a passing of the torch; a final signal to himself that The Major was gone from his grasp. "Enjoy it. I know you're right handed and can use it." His mouth quirked from a fairly neutral expression to a faintly sad smile.

To have said that he would treasure it would, perhaps, have seemed mocking, and so Z did not. Instead, he simply nodded, fingers lightly tracing the supple, comfortable leather of the thing. "I appreciate this, Major. Truly."

"You're welcome," was the gruff reply, one-eyed gaze watching Z touch it for a moment before he turned to go back into the bedroom.

"Good night, Z," Dorian told him gently. "Make sure you all get your rest. You really do need it, you know," he finished, heading after Klaus.

Klaus was stretching out atop the sheets, still fully dressed, hands folded behind his head. A cigarette was being smoked already, contemplatively. "Close the door," he reminded Dorian.

Quietly, Dorian obeyed, kicking his shoes off by the door and moving towards the bed. "What are you thinking about?" he asked solemnly, laying down next to Klaus for a moment. It wouldn't hurt to wait a few moments before showering and changing into pajamas.

"Hmm, not too much," Klaus murmured, flicking ash into the ashtray beside the bed, before he fit it in his lips again. "Not too much."

"How much is too much?" Dorian teased, laying a hand lightly on his belly.

"Right now, anything is," he sighed, taking a deep draw from the cigarette, still looking up at the ceiling. "Fate hates us."

Frowning slightly, the British man moved closer, wrapping his arm about Klaus's belly. "Is it really so bad, then, darling?"

"Is what so bad?" he sighed, tapping a little ash again, not moving away from Dorian's familiar-feeling touch.

"The Alphabet being here," Dorian said softly. /Being out of the loop. They'd love to have you down there working with them. Each and every one of them lit up at the sight of you. I wish you could see that.../

"I'm glad to help them," he groused, closing his eyes when he drew another breath. "I just wish I could do more than let them stay here. But I'm incompetent to lead them anymore."

"The day you're incompetent will be the day that *I'm* a bad thief," Dorian told him firmly. "You're not incompetent, Klaus. You're still capable of anything and everything you did before."

"Not in any official capacity." He turned his head a little, opening that one eye to look at Dorian for a moment -- nothing there except an odd wondering that seemed baseless.

The question that came next was solemn, serious, and very obviously important. "Is official capacity that important to you, then?"

Was it...? Was it so important...? "Yes." That ached to admit, that he wanted the very thing he was denied of. But he wanted to work on the right side of the law.

The depth of sorrow growing in those blue eyes was almost a physical pain to see, Dorian taking in a deep breath. "Then you can never be happy, contracting out, doing... doing the things we've been talking about... can you?"

"I'd rather do that than do nothing at all," Klaus said just as serious -- oh, if he could take back the truth so he wouldn't see the hurt in Dorian's eyes!

"Ahh." Keeping firmly in mind Klaus's remarks about going in circles, Dorian kept quiet instead of saying anything more, simply burying his face against Klaus's arm for a moment. /He says he might love me. I can hold onto that, can't I?/ He thought that he could, anyway...

"Maybe... the British army would take me," he murmured quietly after a moment thought, moving to lay his head on the pillow; one hand free to use for smoking, his right to pull Dorian closer to him.

/I don't want you to go back into the army, any sort of army,/ Dorian though miserably, eyes squeezed tightly shut. "Mmm." /I just want you to be with me, and that's so terribly selfish of me, isn't it? And I'm so useless to you.../

"You don't like that idea, do you?" Klaus asked in a sigh, closing his eye just as tightly as Dorian closed his. "I... I could join the tank corp..."

"I won't like you doing anything that's away from me, Klaus," was the frank reply, barely a whisper. "I'll try not to be selfish if you want to do those things, but..." But he wasn't accustomed to denying himself. He wasn't accustomed to not getting exactly what he wanted...

But was he *worthy* of getting what he wanted? Did he actually *deserve* Klaus?

"I just don't know if this idea will work," Klaus sighed, finally snubbing out his cigarette in the ash-tray, shifting a little closer to Dorian.

Unable to help himself, the blond man trembled, tears rising to spill wildly over the edges of tightly closed lids. He couldn't stop them! /I want it to work. I want it to work so badly. I can't make you happy, can I, Klaus? Oh, God. Oh, *God*.../

"Dorian...?" Klaus's voice reached him, soft with concern, before the man pulled him close again; tears that leaked free were soaked up by the material of Klaus's shirt. "I just mean the contracting, not... not *this*."

"I just..." Dorian shuddered. "I just.... I don't know. If you do those things, I don't know. I c-can't bear to be apart from you, now. I don't know..."

"We'll find something we can both do, then," Klaus told him, not letting go. "ICPO, maybe...?"

At that, Dorian gave a watery chuckle. "They'll let just anybody work for *them*, darling. Are you sure you want to brave it?"

"Are you aware most of the Alphabets were diplomatic appointments?" Klaus's voice held all of the sneer that Dorian couldn't see. "Anyone can be yelled into shape."

"Would you yell *me* into shape?" That question was really more a teasing one than serious. Klaus had done quite a lot of yelling over the course of the past decade, and Dorian had yet to be even remotely changed by any of that. It washed over him effortlessly and he went right on being Dorian -- Eroica.

"You don't count," Klaus said, tone fond, "because if you did, you'd be my one failure in that."

Dorian was smiling again, face still damp as he shifted to press his lips to Klaus's, arms wrapping tightly around him. "I love you awfully," he whispered, laying his head next to Klaus's. "Can't help myself. Must be something spectacular about you, you know."

"Don't apologize for it anymore." Because Klaus appreciated it. that someone did, that Dorian did, and that it wasn't just a game any more. No, it wasn't a game any longer, it was a desperate, painful reality that had replaced Dorian's games.

"I won't," came the quiet promise, arms hugging him closely for a moment. "Ever. You know, if I stay here like this much longer, 'm going to fall asleep here against you without benefit of bath, toothbrush, pajamas or anything," Klaus was informed via sleepy drawl. "Think I'll drag myself up and go shower quickly."

"I should let you get up then." Klaus's arms released Dorian with an aching reluctance. "And... maybe next week I'll look into applying to ICPO."

A kiss lightly settled on his lips. "Promise you won't arrest me?" he teased, cool damp lashes brushing over Klaus's cheek.

"You're applying, too," was the serious return, though Klaus was fully smiling now.

"Think they'll have me?" Dorian asked, kissing him again, that terribly ethereal caress almost not even there.

"Think of what you could do for their art recovery network in identifying things?" Klaus suggested, starting to sit up.

"I'd rather steal them for myself," was the rueful admission even as Dorian kissed him again. "I'd best go bathe now, or I'll never manage to leave you here all alone..."

"Hm-mm." The German man finally sat up, reaching for his C.S. Lewis book. "We'll both try to be quick, so we beat the Alphabet to using it."

"And get all the hot water," Dorian agreed, snatching up soft pajamas bottoms -- blue plaid of some sort, something Klaus never would have thought Dorian would own -- and a white t-shirt. "I'll be back shortly."

It would probably make, too, for a more comfortable night's sleep for both of them. For Dorian's sake, he'd dig up a pair of his sweats and a t-shirt to wear -- more comfortable than too-thin pajamas, and thick enough that middle of the-night erections might go unnoticed by both parties.

Fat chance of that with Dorian in the bed!

It didn't take the man long -- Klaus had always thought Dorian a dreadful sybarite, most likely to spend forever in the bath, probably because he once did. Fifteen minutes later, however, he was back, hair still slightly damp from not enough time spent with the hair dryer. "Done," the man declared, dropping onto the bed with a sigh.

His own clothes were at the ready -- a pair of grey sweats and a short-sleeved undershirt, since he hadn't bothered to bring any long-sleeved ones. "I won't be long." Part of the reason, Klaus guessed, for Dorian taking so little time now was because it meant separation.

"All right... Oh. I've left my book downstairs," Dorian said with a frown.

"Your book?" /Which book -- we have a lot of them... and I hope if it's one of *those* books, the Alphabets aren't in the living room yet.../

"Oh... Yes. The mystery one. I think I left it on the kitchen counter..." And he hadn't finished his sandwich, either, but he'd eaten enough of it so that he wasn't hungry...

"I'll get it after I wash up, then," Klaus said, expression relaxing instantly. That was *very* good to know, that it wasn't one of those books that Dorian was reading, that he couldn't yet bring himself to read.

His shower, too, was fast, and he dressed and then shaved before brushing his teeth, blowdrying his hair mostly dry before he stepped into the hallway, then padded down the stairs to retrieve Dorian's book.

Agent A was in the kitchen when he got downstairs, putting away the remains of the food that Dorian had ordered -- enough to feed them all through the next day, in truth -- when Klaus arrived. He jumped slightly with surprise when he looked up to see him there and then smiled. "Major!"

"Mr. A," Klaus nodded, padding barefoot over the smooth tiled floor to retrieve the book Dorian had left atop the counter. "Are the men doing all right?"

"They're fine," A informed him, nodding. "Miserable without you, sir. There was a new Major for a while, but..." The man shrugged. "He didn't last. Z and I are sort of giving directions now, but it's not the same without you. G cried for almost a week!"

"There isn't anything I can do about it," he said truthfully, glancing around the small kitchen before he finally settled his eye on A. "You're not as organized as you should be -- I'd thought I'd taught you better than to move in on a mission so ill organized."

A flushed slightly, looking a bit sheepish. "The Chief more or less tossed us on the plane. Goosed G on the way." He sighed. "I like him less and less as the weeks go by."

"That's the side of him I used to see." Klaus hook his head in disgust. "Sick fag."

That gained a single quick glance at the ceiling and a sheepish smile from A, who didn't quite know what to make of that. "Well, yes. More or less, sir. G's been pitiful lately. Not a single skirt or dress in sight!"

"Really?" He'd tried for a long time to get G to stop cross-dressing... and now, apparently, the man had stopped it in his absence. "Why?"

A shrugged. "He says it's just not as much fun without you there, sir."

Klaus gave a derisive snort, a sound gone unheard in the office for too long. "I knew he did that just to piss me off. Figures."

"More like once he'd gotten used to you talking to him about it, it just sort of made his day, I'd think. You know," A murmured, "I think... we're all very fond of you, Major. G always liked to see the newer recruits jump when you yelled... once he got over jumping himself..."

/'Fond' of me?!/ He wanted to be outraged, but... couldn't. Only tapped Dorian's novel against his hip a few times, lips thinning a little unhappily. "Well. There... isn't anything I can do to be reinstated, given the circumstances of my... retirement."

A nodded unhappily. "We had hoped that, maybe..." He paused, gnawing at his lower lip. "Well. That maybe you'd be a contractor. Like Lord Gloria..." It helped that he'd spoken a bit with Bonham, actually, when he'd run into the man in Bonn a few weeks back.

"We only contracted Lord Gloria three times, maybe four," Klaus reminded A. "He became involved more often out of chance, and we sometimes paid him for his trouble. I don't think NATO would need to contract someone who is just a commander. They have enough of those within the ranks." But from his tone of voice, it seemed he hoped desperately that they would have a use for him.

"They've got *no one* like you, Major," A disagreed. "To be honest, I think they're having problems without you -- and without us being quite as smoothly functioning as usual." He shrugged. "It's not that we CAN'T, and we're still loyal to NATO, but... we're loyal to *you*, Major. Most of us aren't very happy just now. P even resigned to go into some kind of software business."

"Hmn. I've been out of the loop since... that mission. What would you suggest as the best way to... bring up the possibility of my being a contractor?" That question, though, was phrased like a familiar order.

THAT brought a veritable grin to A's face, the man's posture visibly straightening. "Well, sir, we could use a little help just now. Say... starting in the morning? Everyone's worn out from the past several days. We were going to sleep in shifts, but..." A's exuberant baring of teeth turned into a smile. "If you're going to be there in the morning..." The words 'we should all get some sleep' hung in the air between them.

"All of you, get to sleep. You're disorganized and muddled. I'll be down there at seven tomorrow morning and I expect all of you to be awake," Klaus told him, an echoing serious grin on his own lips, before he pivoted and headed back up the stairs. He wasn't going to question the sanity of this -- not yet.

"Yes, SIR!" he heard behind him, and then A was gone, rushing down to the basement, leaving only his voice behind.

When Klaus re-entered the bedroom, it was shaking his head and chuckling softly to himself, far far too pleased with himself than was probably healthy for him. "The Alphabets could use help," he told Dorian as he moved towards the bed, book held out for the blond man. He perched on the edge of the bed, and set the alarm clock for six thirty. "So I'm getting up to be ready at seven."

"Mmmmm..." Dorian stretched, snagging his book and promptly depositing it on the nightstand. "Does that mean I get to come, too?" he asked almost mischievously, heart suddenly lightening.

"I think... we come as a set now," Klaus uttered as he pulled back the sheets on 'his' side of the bed, sliding under them; they felt different against the sweat pants and undershirt than it had against two layers of clothing. Once he was under, he promptly found Dorian pressed against him, and realized that his sweat pants were damned near the *only* thing between the two of them. Dorian's own pajama bottoms were so thin he could practically feel his skin through them as one hand shifting the covers touched the other man's knee.

"Good," the Briton said simply, snuggling himself tightly closer. "That's the way I want for it to be."

"I know," he was told with no small amount of consideration entering Klaus's voice. Well, if the Alphabets missed him, they'd certainly always very outwardly liked Dorian. "Everyone will just have to know that we come as a set now."

A little sigh that sounded like absolute happiness sounded, Dorian shifting to the point at which he was nearly laying atop the other man to kiss him. "Hmmm..."

Perhaps he should have worn both layers of pajamas, because the feel of Dorian atop him, as their mouths met slowly, the tentative explorations that followed, made him want things he knew he had no right to want. Even if Dorian said it was all right.

"I love you, Klaus," he whispered against the other man's lips, sliding so that he was almost completely over him, one knee lightly pressed against one of Klaus's, the other pressed against the right side of his leg. "Oh, I do. I do..."

"Repeating," Klaus whispered tensely, though he felt the urge to tell Dorian, over and over if need be, that he didn't have to keep trying to convince Klaus of it. That he *knew*. "I know." and Dorian was so close, warm atop him... He wrapped both arms around Dorian, eye closed lightly. "Go to sleep, Dorian."

"I'd rather kiss you a while, first," Dorian whispered, brushing his lips over Klaus's cheeks, along his jawline.

"Uhhh... that... that isn't kissing," came the shivered breath of protest, though Klaus did nothing to stop Dorian. Couldn't stop him, because it felt so innocently enjoyable.

"It's a kind of kissing," was the sighed response, a nuzzle at an earlobe teasing him, almost tickling and sending *distinct* shivers all the way down to his toes. "Sort of. More or less..."

None of the Stasi had done anything like that to Dorian, and it felt impossibly good, especially the whisper of words so close against his ear that had made every nerve in his body lurch awake. "We should sleep..." /Don't stop./

"Just a little more," Dorian whispered, hands lightly touching Klaus's sides as he moved to kiss the throbbing point of his pulse, to rub his nose against the underside of his chin, so freshly shaved. "Mmmm..."

Klaus's hands stayed mostly unmoving against his back, limp with sheer sensation. Dorian's touch there wasn't an invasion, didn't hurt... /This... must be why people want each other,/ he realized, as another kiss against his pulse point made his sigh sharply.

"Do you like that?" Dorian whispered, tongue lightly stroking over the point he'd just kissed. "I like that very much, Klaus..."

"How... uhhn..." How could Dorian like it? Or was it the same sort of pleasure Klaus had taken from touching Dorian two nights earlier -- of knowing that the other person was reacting because of you?

"Because it feels good to you," came the low, throaty murmur. "Because I know that you like it. Because I want for you to feel good, and when you do..." Dorian sighed. "It makes my heart race with wonder, Klaus."

"Huh..." That was a tightly controlled exhalation, the fingers of his left hand stroking against the material of Dorian's t-shirt. "It does... feel good."

"This..." Dorian told him softly, kissing the hollow of his throat, lightly following the winging touch of collar bone just beneath soft material with his nose. "This is what loving someone, touching someone, should be like..."

"Ja...? I've never... touched like this... [with anyone. Just you, and...]" And that Stasi who'd had no right to lay a finger on either of them.

"Shhh," Dorian whispered tenderly, moving up to kiss his lips again sweetly. "Only me," he whispered, knowing what Klaus was going to say almost be sheer intuition. "There will only be me, now. For always. And I will never do anything that feels any less wonderful than this."

Dorian's kisses were a comfort Klaus could hold as closely as Dorian himself, and the Briton found himself held still for the moment, while Klaus kissed him a little more firmly. "I trust you on that."

"I know." That trust was so sweet, so *good*, and it made his veins burn for the other man in so many ways. "I know."

"And you wouldn't ever... betray me." No question of that -- he'd done everything but that in their years as sometimes associates, often vague adversaries. even called the KGB on him once... but then, he'd called the ICPO, so that had made it even.

"No," Dorian agreed quietly. "I would never do that." His hands, now, rested lightly on Klaus's hips, eyes heavy-lidded and almost closed. The intensity of his desire was unreal, erection pressed lightly against a matching one, and he sighed when he kissed Klaus once again. "I love you too much to do that."

At least the touch of a matching desire against his made it somehow less of an evil thing for Klaus. "Dorian... the Alphabet..." Were just next door, just upstairs, just *beneath* them. A poorly insulated house would surely not hide sounds.

"I can be quiet if you can," came the whisper, along with a slight shift against him. "If you're uncomfortable, though, we can stop..." *IF* he could go to sleep this way...

Klaus, he knew, could be *dangerously* silent when he came, as he'd learned that first night when he'd caught him unawares. "Could you sleep if we stopped?" Klaus asked in a low whisper. He knew he couldn't. "We... need a... towel, or..."

Casting about for something to use, Dorian smiled wryly. "I'll run fetch one," he whispered, kissing Klaus quickly. "It'll only take a moment."

A moment in which any member of the ten Alphabets could be in the bathroom... "Ja." It was one risk or another, and he'd like to see what it felt like to wake up after that without a desperate need to *wash*.

"Be right back," Dorian whispered with one more kiss before sliding rapidly out of the bed and heading down the hall towards the bathroom. He thought, for a moment, that he'd manage to escape with a towel unscathed, but then he realized that someone was stepping out of the shower and he nearly yelled. It was only A, though, so he held it back, panting slightly as he came down off of fear, clutching his chest almost protectively. /God, if I'd yelled, Klaus would've killed him before he even knew it was A!/ he thought.

Whether that was a comforting thought, or a *dis*-comforting one... "Lord Gloria...?" A asked, peeking out of shower that he's jumped back into when he'd been startled.

"Sorry!!" Dorian declared, shaking his head. "Sorry! I hadn't heard anyone in here and I didn't think, so I just came in! I, ah, spilled some water and needed to fetch a towel..." One that he rapidly found and turned to go. "Sorry, A!"

Spilled water...? A watched Dorian go, *not* wanting to know anything. Not even if the man had spilled water!

Klaus was still laying in bed, nearly as Dorian had left him when he'd gone to get the towel. "I thought I heard something," He said, a little tense sounding.

"A was in the shower," Dorian replied, face flushed heatedly for some reason. It wasn't as if he hadn't seen naked men before in his life, God knew! Just... well... never any naked *ALPHABETS*, with Klaus waiting for him to fetch a towel!! "He nearly scared the life out of me!!"

He was getting a quizzical look for his trouble, Klaus pulling the sheets back for him. "You're fine; come back to bed?"

"Yes," Dorian agreed, rapidly obeying that request and slipping on top of Klaus again, towel clutched carefully. "Push up your shirt," he whispered, pressing his lips to the other man's. The kiss made it seem much less like the order it had been, and Klaus pulled his shirt up, out of the waist-band of his sweat-pants; at the same time, with his other hand, he drew the sheets back over Dorian. From there, it was a simple matter of settling the towel and going back to kissing, Dorian's own shirt tugged up as well before his hands moved back to lightly ply at Klaus's hips. "I'm going to pull these away, now," he whispered, lightly tugging at the jogging pants and getting some help -- a lift of Klaus's body, even with his own on top, that made it easier to tug them down.

Klaus remembered, just then, stories that the boys at boarding school had told of illicit sexual encounters, taken half-dressed. rather like what he and Dorian were doing, only... only there was no fear of 'being caught', only an unwillingness on his part to take it anyway other than creepingly slowly. The sudden feel of Dorian's hands against the bare skin of his hips was a shocking one, intimate in ways that a hand against his groin hadn't been. "Hhn."

"I love you, Klaus," Dorian whispered, kissing him lightly even as he tugged his own pajama bottoms out of the way, bringing them in contact, skin to skin, with a shift of his hips. "Love you so..."

Familiar words that Klaus muffled with a kiss; his hands slid down what was bared of Dorian's back, bringing their bodies closer still. /I think I do, too... if this is what it is, then I do. Need you, trust you.../ The searching kiss served, too, to muffle his own need to gasp, and the tiny whimpers Dorian couldn't help but make. Cock touched to cock was like being caressed by heated velvet, the lazy shift and press of Dorian's hips gaining a steady rhythm as he let out a shaky little breath against Klaus's lips.

"Ohhh...." he whispered.

Even with Dorian atop him, neither was in control of the situation -- just two bodies intimately close, straining towards release that was spurred on by the touch of the other. His own hips flexed up against Dorian's over and over, a needy rhythm that was hard to keep in an even pace. He wanted oblivion and to pleasure Dorian, both at once...

The soft little pants of breath and barely audible whimpers that the blond man gave certainly weren't helping him to hold back! Instead, they drove him, the sounds themselves soft and helplessly erotic in some desperate and intimate way that made him want to hold Dorian all the closer, kiss him even harder, keep him simply forever.

Maybe even that, with all of its prepared and careful show of tenderness, was as sick as the things the Stasi had done -- but it spurred him on towards want just as much, and didn't hurt Dorian. He could, even if only with that, share pleasure with Dorian in a way that didn't hurt either of them... He wouldn't hurt Dorian. He'd enjoy and savor those noises of pleasure, uncaring of his own soft sounds, memorize the feel of Dorian's body against his, soak up every second of it all just so that if it ever ended...

Ah, but it wouldn't, and Dorian gave a breathless little cry that was muffled against Klaus's shoulder, coming despite himself, shudders working their way through him at the sharp pleasure he felt, the intensity of it almost too much and yet not quite enough!

There was still a feeling of hiding to it, secrecy in the way both of them muffled thorough sounds of pleasure; Dorian against Klaus's shoulder, Klaus against bitten lips as he jerked Dorian closer to him. It wasn't the shameful thing it had been before, just pleasure at Dorian's intimate touch that left him feeling drained. "Hmnn." A muzzy musing of noise, his head lolling to rest against Dorian's on his shoulder.

"Klaus, Klaus, Klaus..." It was a breathless prayer on those lips, a litany that fairly sang of emotion. "Oh, Klaus..."

"We should..." /Put the towel to use, then go to sleep. Just like this./ Klaus shifted, one hand creeping between them.

"Hmmm?" Dorian murmured sleepily as Klaus began cleaning their bellies, their softening erections. "Ohhh..." That felt awfully good, but he was so sleepy!

The towel was dropped onto the wooden floor, and then Klaus carefully pulled up both of their pants, before he wrapped his arms around Dorian again. Their shirts were still pushed up... "Pull the bottom blanket, Dorian," Klaus instructed softly, shifting to just pull off his undershirt.

"Hmmmmm," Dorian sighed in agreement, opening heavy-lidded eyes long enough to obey. The temptation of being skin-to-skin with Klaus was too delicious and so he stripped off his own shirt before moving against the other man, sighing softly over the feel of it. /So good./ "Love you."