portalhopping | a night out;

a night out;

WHO: Klaus & Lydia
WHAT: a night out after Eddie's band
WHEN: Evening, following Eddie's first lil band extravaganza
WHERE: Apartment 302

Klaus's ears are ringing from a night of loud music and hard dancing. He hadn't known what to expect with Eddie's little invitation, but he finds its easy to slip into anything and have a little fun. Years and years and years of pills and drinks and all of his favorite things means he has a taste for all flavors of life. So jumping and laughing and dancing to the hit of an electric guitar and a thumping bass? It's easy enough.

Easier still with Lydia, who he's kept close most of the night until she'd woven through the crowds to find the others. Even still, Klaus enjoyed dancing on his own in the noise, the sounds of the Eglaf undead falling on deafened ears, his own heartbeat and the rhythm of the music all he needs. He doesn't think about the itch for something more until they're on their way out, breathless and laughing and sweaty. Klaus regrets the leather leggings and somewhere along the way he'd lost the vest he'd worn, leaving him shirtless. His hair has all but fallen out of the wild, messy bun Lydia helped him put it up into, and the charcoal and glitter around his eyes has smudged in a way that brings out the haunting color of his eyes. He kicks a rock in the path with the toe of a combat boot, halfway laced.

"Shit," he laughs as they approach their apartment, his arm wound around Lydia's waist, his hand on her hip and keeping her close. "I could use a cigarette after that."

Once upon a time he'd have sought something sharper, something heavier, like liquor or the sweet burn of a tab of acid on his tongue. It doesn't occur to him as he turns his head and presses a laughing kiss to the top of her head. "You really oughta warn me next time you make a talented friend. Maybe I'll get jealous. Turn green with envy that maybe he's using his skills to woo you."

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The more time that's passed since admitting her feelings for Klaus out loud to someone, the harder it's become to spend time with him. Every second of her time with Klaus is such a blast and he's all but moved in with she and Eddie because he spends so many nights in her bed, but it's becoming so much more challenging to keep her feelings compartmentalized. She's had such a blast out tonight with Klaus and Chrissy, dancing with either or both of them and, whenever she could find a reason to, drawing as much attention to Eddie as she can with whoops, whistles, and shouts. It's hardly a surprise to her that she and Klaus, with probably less intentional help from Chrissy, manage to pump the crowd up even more than they already had been.

When the show is over and people are mostly just winding down, Lydia makes sure that Chrissy is safely in Eddie's hands before she and Klaus head out for the night, what with them being the resident olds of the group gathered for Eddie's show.

She can't help thinking that Klaus must be feeling like she is, drunk as hell on the adrenaline and music. Her ears are still ringing and his words are muffled a little through it as she adjusts to a normal decibel-level of sound again. Grinning a little as she fishes her keys out of her purse and leans into him, Lydia rolls her eyes a little.

"Honey, if you get jealous of a talented teenager and worry that he's going to woo me, we have bigger problems," she jokes, pushing the key into the lock and turning the knob to let them in. The apartment is empty for the moment and it's probably only a matter of time before Eddie and Chrissy show up. Lydia wonders whether Eddie feels when Chrissy stays the night the way that Lydia feels when Klaus does — elated and heartbroken in equal measure.

Closing the door behind them, Lydia gestures toward the window lazily; Klaus already knows the drill. No smoking in the apartment unless you're blowing it out a window. This is not a rule she realized she needed to put into place, but alas between Klaus with his cigarettes and Eddie with his pot, it is what it is.

"You want something to eat, hubby? I'm famished," she calls over her shoulder, stumbling slightly as she walks and pulls off her heels at the same time. She, too, is regretting the leather skinny jeans, never mind the leather jacket and the stilettos, but she looked the part of someone who would be into the kind of music Eddie plays which was the entire point of the getup, so in the end, it was worth it. She spent very little of the night actually wearing the jacket, instead stripping it off to reveal the red strapless top beneath it. As she passes the sofa, she tosses the jacket onto it and disappears into the kitchen. "What sounds good? Help, I can't decide, I'm too hungry and everything sounds amazing and awful all at once..." she complains over her shoulder.

Klaus wanders into the apartment after her, slinging his boots off by the couch like he's done this thousands of times before. Like this apartment is also somehow his, and by proxy, it's about as close as he can get. He stretches his arms high over his head, groaning pleasantly at the feeling. He liked the vest he'd had on - pity he lost in the dancing and the dark.

"Mm, but he has great hair and he can scream the best of all of us," he pouts and moves to a window, opening it and breathing in the fresh night air. He considers smoking, perching in the window like he usually does but finds his eyes are pulled back toward Lydia, to the sound of her jacket coming off. "And I mean look at you. What teenage boy wouldn't want to take a chance at wooing you, you little vixen. Prettier than me. A real disgrace."

There's nothing but sarcasm dripping from his voice as he abandons the window, following her into the kitchen with a lazy little smile. It feels like he's been out partying, like he should be hazy and loopy and gone and yet he has the same warm, sated feeling from a nice high, a delicate buzz. Adrenaline and endorphins do work, hot damn.

"God, food. I forgot about eating. And all that dancing, we really worked up a sweat," he teases as he comes up behind her, curling his arms round her hips and burying his face against her shoulder and neck, bringing their bodies flush enough so he can sway them slowly, as if the club music suddenly started over in the apartment, but was more waltzy than metal. He presses a few fluttering kisses to her neck, grinning against her ear.

"I'm fucking starving. Frozen pizza? Something easy. I'd say ramen noodles but they make me think of tequila, a little person I knew named Tom and his pet gopher. So maybe pass on the noodles."

A pause, then: "Or," all sing song and he presses another silly kiss to her bared shoulder, "We could order in. The thai place up the road's open till two. Two."

Lydia makes an incredulous, offended sound, turning back to Klaus. "Eddie is the best screamer? Not the literal wailing woman standing before you? I'm hurt," she says, though it's quite clear she's joking.

In spite of herself, she's still grinning, though. It always makes her smile when he compliments her like that, mostly because she knows that, even if he might not reciprocate her feelings, he does at least mean it when he says the things he says.

Laughing a little as he pulls her close and buries his face against her neck, Lydia can feel her whole body heating up with a blush that, at least, she can blame on feeling overheated from all the dancing he's already started to subtly re-initiate. But then he's kissing her neck and her smile falls away into something nearly pained as she bites her bottom lip to keep herself from letting a soft moan of appreciation escape. It's things like this, too, that used to be so natural and now feel so strangled with her secret.

"Oooh, I could do Thai," she agrees, happy for the distraction, even as he presses another kiss to her bare shoulder. She turns herself in his arms and looks up at him. "My phone is in the other room, darling dear, so sadly, you'll have to let me go if you want me to Postmate something..." she points out, pouting out her bottom lip playfully before reaching up to brush an errant curl out of his eyes. "Good Lord, you should see yourself," she laughs. "How you make smudged smokey eye look good, I will never fucking know."

Lydia turns in his arms and he laughs, looking down into her face at her dramatic pout. It's unfair how beautiful she looks even like this, with them swaying in the fluorescent light of the kitchenette. His arms slide tighter round her waist, keeping her flush against him. He hums, thoughtful, his head turning to one side.

"Who says I can't postmates things?" He can't - he has the app but he's barely given himself the time to learn much about the phones beyond texting. "Maybe I'll send Ethel to haunt them for it instead. Get the old bitch to give 'em a nice spook so we can get our noodles."

Smirking, he waggles his eyebrows before tilting his head into her touch. "If I walk in there now to get our food I'll scare them with my raccoon eyes. And I couldn't let you go unaccompanied - I do that and you'll be gone for good. You should see yourself, fucking gorgeous thing you are."

He huffs and leans to press a kiss to her forehead, letting his lips linger there for a moment.

"Besides, I wanna dance a little more. We can dance our way to your phone then we can get the thai food. It's a win-win."

Lydia laughs a little. "Klaus, please," she says with a playful patronizing tone, in response to his point about him using Postmates. They both know he has no idea how to use that damn app.

Her eyes close in a slow blink when he kisses her forehead and lets his lips linger there for a little longer than normal, soaking in every second of it. "Like anyone could ever steal me away from you," she replies, intending it to come out sounding like a joke even though it very much isn't. She honestly can't think of anyone who could make her want to leave Klaus's side. There's nearly nowhere else she'd rather be these days.

Humming a soft, contented sound, Lydia circles her arms around his neck, looking probably a little too lovingly back up at him. "You still want to dance, huh? You're not completely wiped out, yet?" Truthfully, she sort of is, but it doesn't matter. Having a good excuse to stay this close to Klaus is something she's happy to roll with, regardless.

"Maybe you can dance me to the fridge so I can grab one of my lazy lady cocktails on the way?" she asks, thinking that tonight might be a good one to liquor herself up just enough to stop getting caught up in her head about everything. It's one thing if Eddie notices and brings it to her attention in passing when they're home alone, but it would be entirely another for Klaus to notice. How the hell would she explain that one?

"I don't know, the infamous citizens of Eglaf have strong feelings, and with looks like yours, darling they'll sweep you away right out from under my nose."

Klaus sways with her regardless, keeping her pressed close to him. He's far more observant than most take him for, and while he doesn't exactly clock that Lydia's caught up in her own thoughts, he does note that something is off. Lydia would tell him, he suspects, and so for now he'll chock it up to fatigue.

So he lifts her off her feet just enough to give her a little spin toward the fridge, bending to kiss her softly when they make it within arm's reach. He's happy here, happier than he's been in some time, and being with Lydia feels like finding harbor in a storm.

"You've had all night to party and dance and drink and when I offer you a lazy, romantic waltz and thai food, you need alcohol? I'm just stunned by the effect I have on women."

He snorts, presses another smushed kiss against her lips before he releases her and peeks into the fridge to draw out one of the spritzy cans. He even goes so far as to pop it open and offer it out. "But who am I to deny a lady her nightcap? God knows I've had plenty of them myself."

Lydia laughs, rolling her eyes. "Well, they're certainly tenacious enough to try, but I am not so easily stolen," she points out playfully. He surprises a yelp out of her when he suddenly lifts her off her feet to spin her around as they dance their way to the refrigerator.

"Need?" Lydia asks. "Honey, no, I don't need it, but what would've been the point of spending $6 for a shitty cocktail when I have perfectly good ones I've already paid for at home?" she's able to eek out just before he kisses her again. He kisses her like they're already a couple; with affection and abandon in equal measure. She wonders sometimes whether he realizes the effect he has on her. It's been a very, very long time since Lydia's felt like she belonged somewhere really and truly, not just as an extension of someone else. Klaus is the first person who's made her feel that way since before the bite years ago.

Klaus opens the can and holds it out to her and Lydia grins at his comment as she takes a sip of it before shifting to hold it in a relaxed hand draped over his shoulder so that she can give him her undivided attention again. "Lead on with the lazy, romantic waltz. I hadn't realized when we started that it was meant to be romantic, but knowing that, now I'm super invested," she tells him, smirking. Maybe it'll just be easier to hide in plain sight, as such. At least until she loosens up enough to either forget or just tell him.

By the time they've danced their way to Lydia's phone and she's put in the order, her can of alcohol is nearly empty and she sets it down on the coffee table before pressing herself against Klaus's lithe body to encourage him to continue dancing with her. "Can I ask you something?" she prefaces before going on, only giving him a few seconds to respond and fully planning to ask him regardless of the answer to her preamble. "Have you given much thought to the next five years? Ten years? Twenty? Like...are you planning on being a lifer here, too, or are you just still sort of kicking that around with uncertainty?" she asks, looking up at him with wide, curious eyes.

"I am always a romantic. A real Casablanca, classic type. How dare you think otherwise," he huffs dramatically, waltzing with her to the living room where her phone awaits. He's patient as she puts in the order, and as she presses back into him, he curls his arms round her all over again.

He doesn't expect the question and it shows on his face, the way his brow creases and his lips pout in thought.

"I don't think about the future," he says finally, thoughtful. "Any time I've thought about the future back home it was just this murky gray mess, like a shitty episode of the Twilight Zone. Nothing ever works out, so I stopped. Five on the other hand thinks about it nearly a billion times a day. It's how we wound up here at all. Saving the future and all that."

He sighs, suddenly wishing he'd had that cigarette he joked about or something with bite to it, even if it's a shitty, cheap cocktail.

"I take life as it happens. Found it's the best way to be. I used to live for the next high, the next hit, the next buzz. It's still there - the itch. The fucking worst itch in the world that you can't reach and is so deep under the skin scratching won't fix it anyway kind of itch. A real pain in the ass. But there's not much waiting for me on the other side of it all. My family, sure. Five is here, and there was Allison and Benerino. I don't know. Fuckin' Florida ain't so bad."

He gives her a slow spin then draws her back in.

"I don't feel that itch here." A shrug. "Not with you. So it's no a bad place to start."

Somehow, even before Klaus considers her question, she already knows that he's going to say he doesn't think about it.

You shouldn't listen to me. I'm zero for four. She can hear Steve's voice in her head and it makes her take pause. If he doesn't think about the future, then he's not thinking about a future with her, much the way she had thought, so planting that seed could either make it grow or it could blow up in her face.

Klaus spins her slowly and draws her back in against him. That's when he surprises her a little and makes her take pause again. Maybe she should tell him. Maybe even if he doesn't feel the same way or hasn't bothered to think about it, he won't run.

Her stomach flutters uncomfortably. Thinking that makes her falter because the entire time, she's known she's been keeping this festering secret from him and he's her best friend, if nothing else. She doesn't like the idea of keeping secrets from him and now it's just loudly apparent to her that that's exactly what she's doing.

Without intending it, she breaks eye contact with him for the first time, her head tilting just slightly downward for a flicker of a moment before she looks up again. "I love you, Klaus," she says quietly. She doesn't say it any differently than she's ever said it to him before, but she means it differently this time and, if he's paying enough attention, he might be able to see that in her eyes. "It makes me happy that I can scratch the itch for you."

Klaus can almost feel something shifting, can feel that something has changed from the wild energy of the bar to their dance in the kitchen, to this moment. He watches her closely, especially as she looks away from him and speaks. His brow creases, his fingers raising to gently brush some loose strands of hair away from her face, tucking them behind an ear.

"Well lucky for you, I happen to love you, too," he says softly, a little smile on his face as he drops a kiss to her temple again.

Maybe she doesn't mean it to have any depth, maybe it's just a longing little fling since they've grown so close over the last year or so. There's always been some form of love and affection with one another, after all. So he sighs softly, squeezes her closer and that hand drops to her chin, tilting her face to look at him again.

"Why so blue babe? You got me." There's a cheeky grin and he presses his nose to hers in a goofy little eskimo kiss. "Stuck with me, in fact. Like I said, if you go home, I make no promises that I won't run off with your hot milf of a mother, but at least those conditions have been laid out well in advance."

Lydia's eyebrows lift a little at his question and the subsequent comment. You got me. "Do I, though? Have you?" she asks before she can think it through. Once the words are said, she can't take them back.

So, Lydia rolls with it. She doesn't have much of a choice and she suspects that she'll feel better once she gets it off her chest, even if it ruins things for a little while. She has confidence in the idea that they'll be friends again eventually if that happens.

"Klaus..." she says again, this time drawing back a bit and looking him in the eye. "I love you," she repeats, but this time there's weight in it. There's weight in the words, in her eyes, in her heart.

Lydia takes a deep breath and wets her lips to stall for a moment. Then, she sighs it out. "At the risk of making everything crumble, it's exhausting and awful keeping it to myself when I tell you everything else. And I'm sorry if it makes things all...weird. But I love you. Like...I really love you."

She takes another deep breath and doesn't realize it but she holds it for a moment, her heart racing and stomach churns with nervousness. It takes an effort, but she keeps her eyes on Klaus's face, not wanting to unintentionally negate the validity of her own statement.

Klaus's expression pinches, confused, when she questions him. Something in the room has shifted between them and suddenly he wonders if he's overstepped. Not that it would be the first time, but it will be one of the rare times he cares that he has.

But she speaks again, the words heavy and serious laying in the space between them: i really love you.

He huffs softly, surprised as he meets he eyes, searching her expression for something else, for anything that might tell him where this is coming from. As if he's waiting for some trap, not unlike he had been for Dave or Tony. The trap doesn't come and instead, his confusion melts into something fond and warm.

"Can't exactly make it weird, babe."

Klaus reaches to cradle her cheek, brushing hair away from her face. "I'm not good at all this ooey gooey shit but I love you, too. Like I'll stay in this shithole place or whatever shithole place you want to go to but when I said you're stuck with me, that you got me? You're stuck. You got me."

A sigh and he shakes his head a little bit. "I love you, too. Really. And it's always gonna be weird because we're weird. Shit, you wouldn't have it any other way. So. Let me love you. Even if I'm a little fucked up and weird. Is that a deal, missy?"

He doesn't give her time to answer before he leans in and kisses her, this kiss less playful and more slow, lingering, deep, expressing himself in the way he knows best - with his body, reverent and loving even in the way he pulls her close to him.

Lydia doesn't notice the breath she'd been holding until she has to let it out finally when he responds, his words infinitely reassuring. Without realizing how tense she'd been in that moment while she'd waited for Klaus to process and respond to her, Lydia's entire body almost seems to droop with relaxation as he cradles her cheek. She leans into it, tilting her face just slightly so she can press her lips to his palm.

Before she can get a word in to express her agreement or gratitude or both, he pulls her closer and meets her with a kiss that's so much more than just a kiss. She, too, pours the weeks worth of internal struggle with her feelings into it. Her arms circle around him and she presses herself against him, needy and starving for his affection now more than she ever has been.

All of this interaction feels different; better than their normal interactions and she can practically feel herself melting into him. When she parts from the kiss to take a breath, she leans her forehead against his. "We're both a little fucked up and weird," she whispers, "so it's a deal. ...exclusive?" she asks, not hopefully; just curious. She could be okay with them not necessarily being exclusive if she has to. She can deal with him continuing to flirt as relentlessly with others as he always has with her, so long as she's allowed to do the same. It isn't her preference, but it's hardly a deal-breaker, either. She just wants to be allowed to be in love with him and to tell him and show him that once in a while without worrying that it's going to freak him out or send him running for the hills to avoid her.

Klaus pulls her tight against him, finding his lips curl into a lazy, happy smile. He sways them to and fro, like they're in some silly high school prom dance, but the gesture is gentle, tender. With their foreheads pressed close, he tips his head and nudges their noses together softly.

"Do you really think I'd want to be weird and fucked up with anyone else?"

A small snort and he presses a tender kiss to her lips, then rests his cheek to her temple as he sways them gently to the rhythm of some silent song.

"And how dare you assume I'd let anyone lay hands on my wife," he whispers on a soft laugh. "But listen here. You find some pretty, fun piece while you're out with the lady folk and the three of us can have a jolly good time together. If they try and boot me out - well, who wouldn't with you in the bed - then we might really have to wrassle."

All this to say she's his, he's hers, and nothing can drive a wedge between them.

"So, what? Are we going together then? Is that what the kids say these days? Going out? An item? A thing? Because I'd really rather take you and your lazy lady cocktail to bed. The dogs are barking, babe - I'm old and withering after a night out. And I want to tell you I love you again right before we fall asleep."

"I certainly hope not," she admits with a grin, swaying with him to a song that neither of them can hear. And a quiet giggle bubbles up when he confirms her question as to whether they'll be exclusive partners. "Hey now, don't threaten me with a good time," she jokes at the idea of him wrassling some nameless other over her. "I might get hot just watching that."

Humming her amusement, Lydia pulls back so she can look at him again. "I believe it's a thing now," she informs him with feigned seriousness. "And oh, thank God, because same but I didn't want to wimp out first when you're the old one," she teases, nudging him with a gentle, full body check.

Finally, after pausing not wanting to move for a few seconds, Lydia slips from his grasp only to gracefully twirl away and, finishing the last of the cocktail with a long swig from the can, she sets it down on the coffee table to deal with in the morning. Lord knows Eddie will leave it be, as he should.

With Klaus's hand in hers resting on her shoulder, Lydia leads him forward and around the couch. "Hearing you tell me you love me is never going to get old," she muses with a warm smile, her face heating up and going pink. "But even better, you should show me and let me show you," she says, her voice lowered and raspy as she looks over her shoulder to grin at him and drop a wink before leading him to her bedroom.

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a night out;

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