superbitter | Open Post

"No. No one in this house will think you're crazy." Diego's fingers have started tracing the veins up his arms, touch gentle over the track marks that scar his inner elbows. It doesn't make him think any less of him at all.

"October first." There's no inflection in his voice to give away his stance. "So is mine. So is all of ours. We were... an unexplained phenomenon. There were 43 of us in total. We're the ones Reginald Hargreeves got his hands on." A beat. "Maybe you're one of us."

Klaus watches the other's fingers trail across the inside of his wrist and up toward his elbow, and he can't stop the shame that sinks down on top of him. His arm twitches a little under that feather-light touch, a small smile spreading across his lips. He actually... really enjoys stuff like this, that light, almost ticklish sensation of someone's fingers barely grazing his skin.

"Wai- What?" He sounds more than a little bewildered. "You were all born on the same day? That's so weird, what are the chances he'd end up adopting a bunch of kids with the same birthday." There's a part of him that hasn't quite caught up to how intentional that was on Hargreeves' part. "What- what do you mean, unexplained how? What are you talking about? 43 what?" Klaus has never known anything about how he came into this world, all he knew is his mother dropped him somewhere for someone else to find, like trash she didn't want.

Diego continues to trace his fingers over those marks, even when Klaus twitches underneath him. It's almost like he's trying to make a point that he doesn't see Klaus as any less just because of his addiction.

"Yup, all of us." Diego frowns. "Yeah, that was the point. We're all special and that's why he wanted us." With a soft sigh, Diego gets ready to tell the story. "On October 1st, 1989, 43 women spontaneously gave birth all over the world. None of them were pregnant when they woke up that morning. It's kinda how he was able to get us at all; we weren't planned and our mum's didn't want us so, they sold us to Hargreeves. We all have powers, different ones for each of us, as far as we know. Maybe you're one of us."

He bites his lip and smiles around the action, eyes seemingly glued to the idle patterns he's tracing on his arm. Almost like it's entrancing for him to watch.

"Oh," he blinks, unsure of what to make of that information, truth be told. "Well, maybe my mom missed the memo," he says with a too-high pitched laugh that is so much more self-deprecating than it is humorous.

"I didn't really grow up great. Shipped from one foster home to another til I aged out... nobody could deal with an inconsolable kid who was terrified all the time. And then they didn't want the drug-addicted teenager in their house, so... I just..." he mimes something slipping through his fingers. "slipped through the cracks and foster homes got swapped out for alternating stays in shelters and rehab clinics. And... now... here I am." he lifts both hands up, as if putting himself on display.

A sudden shiver runs down his spine and he wraps his arms around himself in an effort to warm up. "You don't have a blanket around here, do you?"

"I'm really sorry you had to go through that. But you're not there anymore and I won't let you slip through my fingers." Diego smiles softly, leaning forward to brush his lips across the soft skin on the inside of his elbow.

"You don't have to pretend to be anything but yourself with me, okay? But maybe keep the ghosts a secret from dad. He'll want to use that."

Arching a brow, Diego looks down at the bed they're sitting on. "We can get under the covers, if you want?"

He laughs lightly, the most genuine sound he’s made so far, and he squirms a little at the light press of lips against sensitive skin. “Oh, yeah? Is that a promise I can take to the bank, then?” He grins.

“Can’t I be someone else? I don’t really like me, so much...” he wrinkles his nose a little.

He glances down at the bed and then back up to the amazing hunk of a man offering to get between the sheets with him. “I am so not going to object to that,” he says with a wild grin before he shifts out of Diego’s grasp to scramble his way under the blankets.

"Yeah, it is." Diego's never really had anything that was his but Dad had brought Klaus here for him and, while he didn't own him, there was a level of 'his' that came into it and Diego could already feel himself getting possessive of him.

"I like you so far." Diego kisses that little nose wrinkle. He lets Klaus climb under the covers and follows him under, tucking the smaller man against his chest and holding him close.

There's something almost... possessive about that confirmation to what he had said, really, as a joke. But Klaus finds he doesn't exactly hate it; it's kind of a level of I care about you he hasn't generally experienced in his life. Diego isn't over-the-top about it, where it's more of a pressure pushed down on top of him than a gentle protective barrier. That's a nice feeling.

"That makes one of us," he laughs a little and relaxes against Diego once he's under the blankets, pressing his face against his chest. He's comfortable here in a way... he thinks maybe he shouldn't be, with a new vampire, with little control, and all that blood rushing through Klaus' veins so very close to him. "You're comfy," he mumbles softly, one finger lifting up to trace idle nonsense patterns against the material of Diego's shirt.

Diego presses a soft kiss to Klaus' nose because there's a voice in his head telling him to and he doesn't see why he shouldn't. It's just a soft press of cool lips on soft skin and then he relaxed back into his bed and wraps his arms around the thinner man.

"Maybe I can help you to like you too." He lets Klaus trace idly over his chest, his own hand trailing gently up and down the line of the medium's spine. "Am I? I figured I'd be cold."

He giggles a little and wiggles his nose at the action, grinning up at the vampire he really thinks he should be so much more afraid of than he feels. Right now, he just feels comfort and something he can't name setting up space in the center of his chest.

"Mmm. I'm used to cold. Doesn't mean you can't still be comfy." He smirks a little and an involuntary shudder slides down his spine at the light touch there. "That tickles." he mutters unthinkingly as he shifts a little against Diego's chest. Idly, he wonders if Mr. Hargreeves is going to make him leave this room; Klaus kind of doesn't want to, but he also doesn't think he should buck authority too much on such an easy ride, he'd neverr get another opportunity like this, after all.

Diego wraps his arms around Klaus and lets the man -someone who seems younger but is actually the same age as him and that's a mind fuck- relax into him as he relaxes back into the mattress beneath him.

"We'll need to get a heater or something to make sure there's warmth in here if you're going to be staying in here." He doubted Dad would let Klaus stay regularly; in fact, he was surprised his old man hadn't come in to drag Klaus away from him but it was a nice thought. "But I'll always try and be comfy for you."

Klaus doesn't mind being thought of as younger, people want to protect you when they think you're younger. He kind of likes that feeling, which makes it so, so very easy to sink into that very protective-feeling hold Diego is wrapping him up in. He feels the vampire relax under him, too, and that thought makes his stomach flutter a little. Did Diego feel as comfortable around him, as Klaus did around him?

"Mmkay," he mumbles sleepily, eyes lidded heavily and barely able to stay open. A lazy smile quirks at his lips at that promise. "Mmm...you're spoiling me already." He's barely awake, and maybe it's just the effect of being fed on, or maybe he really is just that comfortable around Diego, but Klaus drifts into an easy sleep soon after.

"Of course I'd spoil you. You're here to help me, you deserve to get something in return." And if that means Diego treats him like royalty, then so be it. Especially because there's no way that Reginald will treat him as anything less than a blood bank for his vampire kid.

It'd be silly to think that he thinks of Number Two as anything less than a weapon and that he thinks of Klaus as anything less than a means to keep that weapon sharp.

Open Post

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject