"That's not funny, Klaus." Diego looks anything except entertained by the comment about dying and he stares at his soul mate for a long moment. Wait, Klaus time jumped? Was that why his colours had dulled so much, because Klaus no longer lived in their time?
“N-No, it's not.” So, why'd he make the stupid comment? “Sorry,” he murmurs, nudging his forehead more intently against Diego's and heaving a sigh. Afterward, Klaus withdraws, still holding one of Diego's wrists, his other hand flicking toward the door, telekinetic energy effectively pushing it shut.
With some semblance of privacy to the room, he admits barely above a whisper, “Vietnam.”
Diego only acknowledges the apology with another kiss because he doesn't really know what else to say to it that won't make Klaus feel even more guilty for trying to lighten the mood -and failing, but that wasn't the point.
"Viet-- wait... you don't mean..." The War, goes unsaid because Diego can't bring himself to even say it.
And maybe Klaus holds the kiss a little longer than necessary but can he really be blamed? They both genuinely thought the other was gone not all that long ago; he'd hate considering how it would be if it'd been the truth.
Rather than respond verbally, he nods at the unfinished question, glances toward his left arm from his peripheral then twists it toward Diego, flashing the new tattoo there.
Diego isn't against holding that kiss and he cups Klaus' face when they separate once more, just watching him for a moment, memorising the face of the man he'd thought he'd lost only an hour ago.
The tattoo is... something Diego has only seen in pictures.
Unable to help himself, he buries into Diego's hands, reaches up and cups his own around them so they'll stay put for now since it feels like if he lets go, everything will fall apart (again).
“Ten months.” Christ, that's... almost a whole year, now that he thinks about it.
Why doesn't it feel like it's been that long? Probably because for everyone else, it wasn't.
"Jesus Christ, Klaus." He can't even begin to imagine the things Klaus must have seen, the things he must have done. The ghosts that must have haunted him on the battlefield. It's too horrible to even try and think about, so Diego doesn't. Instead, he wraps his arms around him and pulls him into a hug.
"You're home now. I'm here for whatever you need from me."
“It, it's fine. Not fine, y'know? I... I'll be okay, though.” All of those things are shit he's going to have to deal with. Maybe not now – maybe not in the next few days, even – but eventually, everything will come to a head and it'll need addressing. Until that bridge needs crossing, Klaus's completely fine with returning the hug, both arms looping tight around Diego's shoulders and squeezing reassuringly.
“Y-Yeah. This is, uh, good for now?” A beat then, “God, I missed you.”
Diego just holds Klaus close, keeps his arms wrapped around him and revels in the feel of his smaller frame -more defined now than it had been the day before- and the colour that brightened his vision and threatened to overwhelm him after the hours without it.
Yeah, the war can be thanked for that. It can be for a lot of things but definitely not for the color that'd bled back into his vision whenever he'd gotten home. That was all wholly Diego and God, he's so glad they're together again.
“I'm sorry,” Klaus whispers thickly, extricating himself enough to clasp Diego's arms and walk them backward to his bed so they can sit.
Diego lets Klaus lead him to the bed and he sits beside him, so close that their thighs are pressed together from hip to knee. One arm curls around his back but the other cups his cheek and he strokes a thumb over his cheek bone.
"Don't be. You're here now. You're back with me and that's all that matters. We can get through the rest together."
Being this close to Diego again, it makes his heart pitter-patter and steals his breath away but also calms him in a manner no one else seems to be able to. The arm wraps around him, causing Klaus to rest some of his weight against his brother, one hand settling at the small of his back while the other reaches up, gently hooks his fingertips into the spaces between the fingers on his face.
“I, I don't know how I'm going to— to...” he lets himself trail off, shakes his head then turns and buries into Diego's neck rather than let him see the tears welling up again.
Diego just holds on even tighter. His brother's breath is hot against his neck and he can feel the wetness of tears against his skin. It breaks his heart to know that he's so lost and alone and Diego has no idea how to make him feel better, how to take away his hurt.
"You won't be alone. We'll get through this together, okay? I'm never going to let you deal with this by yourself."
‘You won't be alone.’ The breath abruptly catches in his chest, choking off the sob attempting to slip out, his left hand reaching and cupping around his face. If there's one thing he won't be, it's that. How could he ever with Diego here?
Klaus exhales the sigh he'd been holding in, clutches both arms around his brother's shoulders again. “God, I know we've said it a million times but I'm so fucking glad you're here.”
"I'll always be here, baby. Any time you need me." He snorts a soft laugh. "Which is always, because you're a fucking mess. A beautiful mess, but a mess all the same." It's meant as a light tease, to try and bring a smile to Klaus' face, which is why he kisses him again, smile pressed against soft lips.
You know, that started out really, really heartfelt...
And then it just got sappy as hell— which Klaus appreciates, he truly does. A chuckle of his own slips free after Diego moves to kiss him, his arms slackening, hands resting lightly on his brother's shoulders while he reciprocates. He draws back a moment, long enough to mutter, “At least I'm your mess,” then he kisses him again.
"Yeah, well, someone's gotta make sure you eat something more than pills and waffles. Y'know, some proteins and vegetables and drink some water." Diego kisses him again. "Speaking of, let's get you some food. On me."
“Hey, at least I'm eating something,” he complains without any of the heat. As soon as Diego mentions food though, Klaus's expression brightens somewhat. “You mean it? Do I get to pick where we're going?” Since he just might have a place in mind.
"Yeah, you can pick the place." It's not too hard to make the guy happy; let him pick the restaurant or something and that's all it takes. "As long as you pick something that has a decent menu and isn't just sugar and carbs."
Without missing a beat, “Somewhere with burgers,” a pause in-between then he adds, “And fries. That counts, right? It's not just carbs... and if I'm even feeling any sugar, I can have a milkshake or something? So long as that's alright with you.” Diego did say he was paying, after all.
"Yeah, alright. I know a place." He wraps an arm around Klaus' shoulder and leads him out of the house towards the car. "We'll get Mom to make us a healthy dinner later. I'm sure she'll be happy to serve you some vegetables."
Klaus nods agreeingly, maybe a little too quick, though he doesn't seem to care. He snatches his coat off the nearby dresser while Diego leads them, rounds the car to the passenger side and climbs in. “Honestly, I'd like that. Won't even bitch about the vegetables.”
"I'm going to hold you to that. And if you go back on that promise, I'll get Mom to shovel it in every time you open your mouth to complain." It's as much a promise as it is a threat and they both know Diego will follow through, as declared by his smirk as he starts the car.
Surprise, surprise, he's already opening his mouth to complain about it— Klaus stops most of the way through, listens momentarily to the car engine run while tucking his coat around himself then huffs a long, suffering sigh despite his own grin. “Alright, fine, it's a deal.”
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"You... Where did you go?"
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With some semblance of privacy to the room, he admits barely above a whisper, “Vietnam.”
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"Viet-- wait... you don't mean..." The War, goes unsaid because Diego can't bring himself to even say it.
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Rather than respond verbally, he nods at the unfinished question, glances toward his left arm from his peripheral then twists it toward Diego, flashing the new tattoo there.
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The tattoo is... something Diego has only seen in pictures.
"Klaus... how long were you there?"
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“Ten months.” Christ, that's... almost a whole year, now that he thinks about it.
Why doesn't it feel like it's been that long? Probably because for everyone else, it wasn't.
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"You're home now. I'm here for whatever you need from me."
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“Y-Yeah. This is, uh, good for now?” A beat then, “God, I missed you.”
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"I was so afraid I'd lost you."
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“I'm sorry,” Klaus whispers thickly, extricating himself enough to clasp Diego's arms and walk them backward to his bed so they can sit.
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"Don't be. You're here now. You're back with me and that's all that matters. We can get through the rest together."
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“I, I don't know how I'm going to— to...” he lets himself trail off, shakes his head then turns and buries into Diego's neck rather than let him see the tears welling up again.
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"You won't be alone. We'll get through this together, okay? I'm never going to let you deal with this by yourself."
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Klaus exhales the sigh he'd been holding in, clutches both arms around his brother's shoulders again. “God, I know we've said it a million times but I'm so fucking glad you're here.”
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And then it just got sappy as hell— which Klaus appreciates, he truly does. A chuckle of his own slips free after Diego moves to kiss him, his arms slackening, hands resting lightly on his brother's shoulders while he reciprocates. He draws back a moment, long enough to mutter, “At least I'm your mess,” then he kisses him again.
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"Good. You need the vegetables. Your body is probably craving vitamins and you don't even know it."
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