Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The lights are a little too bright and they buzz quietly. Wouldn’t be so irritating if everything else wasn’t so damn quiet. It reminds Klaus so much of the sterile lighting of the hospital, and contrasts strangely with the run down look of the laundromat.

Cars pass by outside. It’s quieter than in the day, and there are few people on the streets. Doesn’t mean the roads are empty; not in the city.

Klaus should be tired right now. It’s 11 o’clock, and while that isn’t too late, he didn’t sleep much last night. Or the night before that. He’s on his second, third, fourth wind. This isn’t something that caffeine or sleeping pills can fix. Oof, well, sleeping pills aren’t going to be fixing anything. He’s sober. He’s not touching anything like that. Melatonin is his only friend in this. But right now he doesn’t want to sleep.

Surprisingly, there are no ghosts here right now. The silence is almost too much. He had thought having a moment like this would feel blissful. Ah, at least no one is screaming at him, or calling his name. Maybe all the ghosts were asleep. Maybe ghosts don’t like laundromats. Klaus could live in a laundromat. He could start a laundromat and do that for the rest of his life. No more ghosts. Only clean clothes.

He laughs at that, high pitched and cracking, curling forward and in on himself from his standing position. He probably looks a bit off, laughing by himself in a laundromat with big shadows under his eyes. He glances down. It probably wouldn’t help that he is only wearing a ragged pair of boxers.

They’re old, stretched out and hanging off his hips. There’s a hole right under his right butt-cheek. Really not classy in any way. He never wears these, prefers briefs or thongs anyway, but all his other underwear is in one of the washing machines right now.

He doesn’t have a washing machine at his apartment. This would be less of an ordeal if he did. He had put off doing the laundry until it was too late, so he had dumped everything into two laundry bags and stumbled down the street to the laundromat. Even the shirt and pants he was wearing had smelled slightly off. So here he was, semi-naked, all his clothes in the washing machine. Klaus was nothing if not efficient.

He leans back against the washing machine, looks down and contemplates his legs. They look kinda weird, green-ish and pale in the lighting.

He drops his head back now. His brain is buzzing, thoughts blurring as they speed by. He remembers how he used to try to chase this feeling away with drugs. Whatever to get him out of his head. For a moment an intense craving washes over him. Even just a little bit, nothing strong, just enough to stop his racing thoughts and sand down the edges. Something to smooth this all out and fill the silence.

He almost misses how his hands used to shake. Misses desperation and hangovers. For a moment, he almost misses being miserable. But no, he’s been doing really well. No drugs or alcohol for a few months now. He’s proud of himself.

He still craves self-destruction, but he’s been doing so well. He hasn’t given in. The most self-destructive thing he did this week was wearing that sweater for the third time in a row before washing it. Hmm, stinky boy.

The door rattles, and cool air from outside brushes over Klaus’s skin. Looking up, he lo9cks eyes with the man who just walked in.

He’s tall. Clean shaven, but his light brown hair is a mess. Big, strong arms. Cute. Klaus lifts himself up with his arms to plant himself on top of the washing machine. Leans back a little bit to show off.

The man doesn’t see him right away and instead walks up to the first machine. A lot of the machines are out of order; he’s going to end up a lot closer to Klaus. He squats down and reads the little sign that’s taped onto the door.

‘Out Of Order - will flood the laundromat DO NOT USE’

The man grunts, annoyed, and stands back up, swinging his gaze around the laundromat. He spots Klaus, who is watching him, entrance, and almost jumps. He has a bit of a deer-in-headlights look to him, and wow Klaus falls a little more in crush.

Then the man’s eyes dart up and down, seemingly taking in Klaus’s lack of clothing. A look of confusion graces his face. Brows furrowed slightly, and lips parted as if he wants to ask a question. Klaus leans back a little more, lifts one of his legs up onto the machine, and winks.

The man laughs nervously, and walks over to a closer washing machine; one that is actually in working condition. Klaus keeps watching him. Screw social conventions, Klaus’s life has already been so fucking weird and messy. Sue him. He’s gonna watch this cute guy like a weirdo, ‘cause he is one.

Cute guy starts unloading his laundry into the machine, and it looks like he’s trying to hide his clothes from Klaus. Narrowing his eyes, Klaus leans to the side a bit to get a peek at whatever cute guy is hiding.

Blood. His clothes have a lot of blood on them. Klaus should probably be worried but… whatever.

“Cool blood laundry.”

Cute guy spins around on his heels, fear painting his face.

“What?” he gasps out.

“Cool blood laundry.”

Cute guy is starting to hyperventilate and oops, that’s not good. That’s not the reaction Klaus expected.

“Hey, it’s okay man-”

“Please don’t call the police!”

“Hey, I’m not going to call the police.” What the fuck, Klaus isn’t a fucking narc. If anything, he’ll kick your ass himself. “I’m not going to call the police. You think I’ve never showed up somewhere covered in blood before? It’s all cool, mon ami.”

Cute blood laundry guy lets out a shaky breath, shoulders relaxing.

“Thanks.”

“No problem. So, what’s your name?”

“Uh- Dave.”

“Klaus.” Klaus winks at Dave again. It earns him a blush and a shy smile.

Klaus crosses his legs, liking how it draws Dave’s eyes to them.

“So- you come here often?” Klaus wiggles his eyebrows up and down. Leans back more so his posture is more open and inviting.

Dave bursts into laughter. It’s like now that he’s no longer nervous he can’t hold back. Klaus made him laugh! He made him laugh like that!

Dave finishes loading up the laundry and slams the door shut. He turns the machine on and then moves a little closer to Klaus and leans against the washing machine next to Klaus.

“So, uh. Why is your clothing covered in blood? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Uh- heh. I mean, you didn’t call the police on me, I guess I owe you an explanation, huh?” Dave is holding his arms across his chest, drawn in to himself, but he does look up at Klaus. Klaus reaches out and gently pokes his shoulder with his foot. Bare feet. That gets a smile.

“I got in a fight… a little bit.”

“You got into a fight a little bit?”

“Yeah.”

“Ooh, well I love a bad boy.”

“I’m not a bad boy. Guy was just bein’ a dick in a bar, and he followed me out.”

“No need to be modest with me, I know you’re a bad boy with a heart of gold.”

“So why are you naked in a laundromat?”

“All my clothes were dirty.” Dave gives him a disbelieving look.

“All your clothes were dirty.” He deadpans.

“All my clothes were dirty.”

“Are you sure you didn’t just want an excuse to strip in public?”

Klaus gasps in faix shock.

“What kind of girl do you think I am?” The next part is said in a stage whisper. “Dave, I am 100% that kind of girl.”

Dave laughs again, unwinds even more. It’s when he takes his arms away from his chest that Klaus spots a spot of blood on Dave’s shirt.

“Shit, Dave, are you still bleeding?”

“Uh…”

Klaus is already off the washing machine and next to Dave, tugging at the sides of his shirt.

“I swear this part isn’t a come one, I want to see how badly you’re hurt.”

“The other part was though, huh?”

Klaus looks up and nods, and then goes back to his task. Dave finally gives in, lets Klaus pull the shirt over his head. It’s a button up. Probably would’ve been easier to unbutton.

Dave is muscular, broad shoulders and chest under the slightly big shirt he was wearing. He looks good, but Klaus isn’t thinking about that because oh my god, this dude was just as mucch of an idiot as Klaus. He had what looked like scratches from concrete or sonething on his arms. There were newly forming bruises on his chest, and a few cuts were still sluggishly bleeding.

Klaus floated his hands above the wounds, scared to touch and hurt Dave. Jesus. One hell of a fight.

“Jesus… Dave.”

Klaus gently moved Dave so he could see his back. It was also scratched up and bruised.

“Okay I probably should’ve realized it was bad when I saw the blood. Dave, you should go to the ER.”

Dave is shaking his head vigorously, thought now Klaus can see the way he’s trying to hide his pain. Probably why he was all folded in on himself earlier. Shit.

“No, no. I can’t. Don’t want to.”

“Okay. Okay. I get it. I hate hospitals too. At least let me help you out a bit?”

Dave sighs in relief. “Yeah, okay.”

“We can go back to my apartment, it’s near here a- shit, we can’t leave our laundry though. People steal laundry here. I’ve stolen laundry here,” Dave gives him a strange look, but Klaus keeps talking, “oh man i can’t believe they didn’t get you in the face too.”

Dave gives him a sheepish look.

“I got some makeup…”

“Okay.” How did he get so roughed up? “Okay, I’m gonna run quickly to my apartment. You stay here, right? Stay here and I’ll be right back.”

Dave is nodding and Klaus almost makes it out of the door before he realizes he’s not wearing any clothing. Dave quietly hands Klaus his shirt. Ah. Yeah, a bit better. Still better be quick.

“Don’t go stealing my undies or any creepy business, Dave! I’m coming right back.” And with that, he’s out the door.

Being thrust into the cool night after being in the quiet laundromat for so long feels strange. Like coming out of the movie theatre. The outside world feels weird after being in their with the strange lights and the near silence. The laundromat feels liminal, on the edge of reality. Stepping back outside feels like a bucket of cold water hitting him.

Thankfully, few people are out, and no one seems particularly worried about Klaus and his underwear. Good ol’ city. He walks one block, passing little bodegas and grocery stores, and then runs the second. He wants to get to his place quickly so he can get back to Dave.

It’s a little walk-up wedged between a late night grocery store and a diner, now closed. He sticks the key in the lock and shakes it around, struggling with it until it turns and the lock clicks open. It’s warm inside and the uneven wooden floor is comforting. Klaus spends a lot of time haunting these halls (haha) due to his ghost-induced insomnia.

The stairs are a little creaky, so he does his neighbors the favor of not running up and instead takes quick steps until he reaches the second floor. A few more steps and there’s apartment 2B. For years he couch-surfed and stayed in squats, never having a place of his own. Being able to say, or even think the words “my apartment” was still exciting. Look at him! A proper adult.

He’s lucky; he inherited some money from Reginald “Shitbag” Hargreeves, and thankfully he was sober by the time he got access to the inheritance. Plus, he’s started working at a nearby bookstore. It’s small and independant, run by a lesbian couple that he had become friendly with. They were lovely people, and thankfully didn’t care too much what he wore as long as he wasn’t nude. Klaus could manage that. Plus he had convinced Laura to learn to knit with him!

Anyway, he was able to afford a small place. It was kind of crappy and the warm water only worked intermittently, but it was his own place. He unlocked the door and stepped inside. It’s warm in here too, and there are scarves and cloths draped across many of the surfaces. He feels like it gives it a warm feel, even if it looks messy.

Grabbing a plastic bag from his kitchen, he hurries through to his bathroom and digs around in the cabinet. Bandaids… good to have. Did Dave need stitches? Probably not. He had bled, but the cuts hadn’t looked too deep. Maybe some butterfly bandages. Rubbing alcohol. Neosporin. Gauze and medical tape. Makeup remover. He shoves it all in the plastic bag.

Dave is lucky Klaus and Diego are so accident prone. He’s prepared. On his way out he grabs an ice pack from the freezer as well.

The way back to the laundromat is quick. Someone is singing in the distance; their voice is good. Cars rush past. Still no one stops to ask him about his underwear. Or about his- Dave’s bloodied shirt, for that matter.

He enters the laundromat whistling, does jazz hands in greeting when Dave turns to look at him.

“Hey.”

“Hey. Brought some stuff.”

He walks over to wear Dave is standing. He’s standing where he was when klaus left, but it looks like both of their laundry loads have been moved to nearby dryers. Sweet of him, though Klaus feels bad that he was the one to do it, seeing as he had been beaten up earlier that night.

Plonking the bag down on one of the machines, Klaus becomes serious. Well. As serious as Klaus Hargreeves can be.

“Let’s get the makeup off your face first. I brought an ice pack for the bruises.”

He helps Dave wipe off the makeup, being as gentle as he can so he doesn’t hurt him. Dave flinches occasionally, eyes screwing shut when Klaus goes over a sensitive spot. The bruise is big and dark on his left cheekbone. He brushes the wipe over Dave’s cheek again and Dave flinches again.

“Sorry, sorry, almost done.”

A hand wraps around Klaus’s wrist, pausing his movements.

“It’s okay. You aren’t hurting me on purpose. You’re helping.” Dave says.

Klaus nods, and he suddenly feels a little anxious. Weird. He pushes the feeling down.

“I think I got most of the makeup off. Uh-” Klaus reaches over and grabs the ice pack, “which arm is better?”

Dave reaches out his left hand and Klaus plops the ice pack down into his palm, shivering at the cold.

“Hold that against the bruise. Still gonna look nasty for a while, but it might be a bit better.”

Now, onto the scrapes and cuts. He pulls the rubbing alcohol and gauze out of the bag and sets them down.

“Okay, normally I would just wash these with water but I’m guessing that there’s probably some dirt and stuff in those scrapes so-” he lifts the rubbing alcohol, “sorry. It’s not gonna feel good.”

Dave nods in acknowledgement.

“Okay.” Klaus says quietly.

He pours some onto a piece of gauze and swipes it as gently as he can over the scratches, flinching every time Dave hisses in pain. Klaus hates seeing others hurt or in pain. It feels like he’s the one inflicting the pain and he doesn’t want to hurt anyone.

He carefully cleans out each wound and spreads neosporin over them. Uses butterfly bandages on the bigger cuts. Patches Dave up the best he can with the supplies he has.

“Well. I think you’re going to live,” he says seriously, looking Dave in the eye. Dave laughs at that, clearly tired if the unfocused look of his eyes is anything to go by.

“Are you going to be able to get home tonight?”

“Uh. No. The person who was supposed to drive me home ditched me.”

Oh, Klaus’s heart was melting. This beautiful, sad puppy of a man.

“You should stay at my place.” That shocks Dave. His eyes widen a bit, though with considerable effort. He’s clearly pooped, ready to pass out.

“No, no I couldn’t imp- impose. I’ll figure something out, it’s fine.” His voice is rough and Klaus has to remind himself that, though it is attractive, this is not the time.

Is this a weird offer to make? Maybe it’s a weird offer to make. But Klaus remembers what it was like to be desperately searching for a place to sleep late at night.

“I swear I’m not a creep. I swear. I’m weird but not a creep.”

Dave blinks, processing. Then begins to speak slowly.

“I’m the one who showed up covered in blood. I think you should be the one worried about creeps.”

“No, no. See, I patched you up. Now I know you aren’t going to murder me. You’re indebted to me. Plus- plus! I’m adorable. You can’t murder this face.” He flutters his eyes, tilting his head and placing his chin on his hands.

Dave stares at him.

“Okay, cool. So I’ll just grab our laundry…” Klaus pauses, thinking. “Wait, I’m being pushy. I really don’t mind you staying for a night if you need a place to sleep. But I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. ‘Cause really, I’m a little spooky. I’ll respect whatever your decision is and-”

“Klaus! Klaus. Yes, I’ll stay at yours.” Dave smiles softly at him. “Thank you. It’s incredibly kind of you.”

Chapter Text

He unlocks the door, Dave standing a foot behind him, peering around the hallway. It’s pretty plain. Klaus pushes the door open and gestures for Dave to go in, bowing slightly and waving his hands.

“Welcome… to my humble abode.”

Dave walks through the door and Klaus steps in after him, shutting the door and clicking the lock shut.

“It’s kinda messy but… it’s not too bad, right?”

“It’s cozy. I like the decorations,” a beat, “though I think draping a feather boa across a lamp-shade might count as a fire hazard?”

“Eh, whatever.” Klaus says, waving it off. “So. You can take my bed for tonight.”

Dave is vigorously shaking his head.

“No, no. You’re already letting me stay here, I’m not kicking you out of your bed on top of that.”

“I’ve slept in worse places than my couch.”

“No, I don’t want to ki-“

“Dave,” Klaus sighs dramatically, “you’re the one who’s injured! Take the bed.”

Dave is quiet for a moment. Klaus is preparing himself for another rebuttal, but-

“Okay. But we should at least share it. I mean you’re tall. Sleeping on the couch can’t be comfortable.”

Again, Klaus has slept in worse places. But hey, a cute guy wants to share a bed with him. Who is he to look a gift horse in the mouth?

“Oh, Dave,” he says.

“What?”

“Dave, there’s only one bed. There’s only one bed… it looks like…” he flutters his eyelashes, striking a pose, “it looks like we’ll have to share. Two heterosexual buddies just sharing a bed.”

Dave stares at him in silence. Klaus stares back. Then Dave snorts, loud and ugly, and they’re both cracking up. Oh man, give him just a little while longer and Klaus will be totally gone on this guy.

They should probably go to bed soon. Oh, Klaus is being a bad guest!

“Do you- are you hungry? It’s kind of late to cook but I have… uhh… frozen waffles?”

“Naw, I’m fine.”

“I have an extra toothbrush if you need. I’m going to go to bed. And sleep if I’m lucky.”

Dave trails after Klaus as he enters the small bathroom. It’s a little cramped with the two of them. Klaus doesn’t mind a little invasion of his personal bubble. He grabs the extra toothbrush from under the sink, placing it gently in Dave’s hand. Lets his fingertips brush against his palm.

They stand next to each other and brush their teeth. They’re both tall, and Dave is big. Klaus keeps elbowing Dave. The whole thing feels silly and domestic.

Shuffling into the bedroom, Klaus realizes he’s bone-tired. Guess that’s his fourth (fifth?) wind done. He unbuttons his- Dave’s shirt and drops it on the ground crawling onto the ned in just his boxers. He has his face buried in the soft fleece blanket, arms and legs splayed out so he can bask in the soft sheets. Warm.

Diego gave him this blanket. Diego is his favorite.

“Comfy?”

“Mhmmm.” Klaus mumbles into the bed.

The mattress dips and Klaus moves his limbs a bit to make room for Dave. He feels Dave lay down, and his shoulder touches Klaus’s. Klaus flips over, lying back down so their shoulders are still touching.

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Klaus reaches over and switches the light off. The room is plunged into a dark blue tone. The outlines of the furniture are fuzzy. Streetlight and far away traffic noise come in through the window. It’s dark, warm, peaceful. Klaus thinks he’s actually going to be able to sleep.

He shifts, twists his legs a bit, lets himself get comfortable. Melting, melting into the sheets. His eyes close, muscles relax, and he drifts off.

He’s having a dream. He always knows when he’s dreaming. Doesn’t make them feel any less real.

He’s in the mansion. His father is gone but Pogo is wearing his monocle. He keeps asking Klaus where “the door” is. He wants Klaus to go and open the door. Klaus can’t remember where the door is. Klaus can’t remember why the door is important.

He’s in part of the mansion that doesn’t exist in real life, but here it feels familiar. At the end of the hallway there’s a window. It’s looks dirty and quaint like it belongs in an old cottage or cabin rather than a mansion. He walks over and opens the window. Dave is outside, tending the garden. He’s wearing overalls and pruning the hedges, but he is wearing a top hat. It’s a silly outfit. Klaus approves.

He’s about to shout out the window at Dave when he’s pulled from his sleep. He sits up, blinks. Noise. Someone is banging on his door and repeatedly ringing the janky doorbell.

“What the fuck.”

Dave is opening his eyes now, shifting towards Klaus. He blinks at Klaus for a moment. Wow. Wow, he’s a nice vision first thing in the morning.

“What’s going on?” He mumbles.

“I don’t know. You can stay here, I’ll get the door.”

Klaus picks a shirt up off the floor and tugs it on, not bothering to button it. ‘Life is a tits out look!’ his brain supplies. Good one, brain.

He walks out of the bedroom and through his apartment, hand on the wall for balance. Urgh, he’s not awake yet. Stumbling, he makes it to the door and yanks it open, not bothering to check who it is. He rasps out a few words, “What’s with all the-“ then stops. Diego is standing in the doorway, leaning on the frame and listing dangerously to the side.

“Woah, woah. Okay. Here.”

He lends Diego his shoulder and helps him into the apartment, sitting him down on the couch.

“What happened? You patrolling last night?”

“Yeah- yeah.” He’s gritting his teeth, breathing heavy like he’s trying to hold it together.

“Okay, you’re useless with pain levels, so how about this. One to ten, how bad are you injured?”

“Two...” Diego grits out.

“Okay, okay. I think maybe you’re lying, but okay. Sadly for you I don’t have painkillers here. Where is it the worst?”

Diego pulls his hand off his leg where he’s been holding it. It’s a nasty bullet wound, but it’s not very deep. Bleeding a lot. Thankfully it only nicked him; Klaus is not qualified to go digging around in someone’s leg for a bullet.

“Your poor leather pants.” Klaus jokes, but his voice shakes a little. Diego is going to be fine, but it’s still terrifying seeing him hurt like this. They spend an awful lot of time patching each other up.

“Okay. Keep putting pressure on it.

He runs to grab the bag from last night, and to the bathroom to get his suture kit. He hates this. He vaguely registers Dave getting up, but he’s got so much adrenaline flowing through him. He has to help Diego.

When he gets back he kneels down in front of Diego, trying to find a good angle to get at the wound. The blood is dark, covering Diego’s hand and running down his leg. Klaus gets started on cleaning it out.

“Who’s shirt are you wearing?” Klaus looks down. He’s wearing Dave’s shirt again. Trust Diego to notice something like that while he’s bleeding all over Klaus’s couch.

“How do you know it’s not mine?” Klaus asks, going back to his task.

“It has blood on it.”

“Yeah. So do you.”

“That shirt swamps you. Did you-“ Diego stops talking and his eyes focus somewhere behind Klaus. Klaus whips his head around and sees Dave standing there, a concerned look on his face. He’s only wearing his boxers. Because Klaus is still wearing his shirt.

When he turns back, Diego is grinning despite his pain. Oh, goody.

“Oh ho, what do we have here, Klaus?”

“For once, it’s not what you think.”

Diego gives him a look.

“I’m not lying!”

“I believe you. If only because I know that if it was you would have-“ Diego sucks air through his teeth when Klaus accidentally jostles his leg. Klaus gives him an apologetic look. “I know you would have no qualms with telling me all about it.”

“Shut up. I’m trying to tend to your wounds.”

Klaus disinfects the suture needle, again wholly focused on the task at hand.

“If there’s anything I can do to help…” Dave speaks, moving towards them.

“Maybe… hang on…”

Klaus is trying to thread the needle, failing a few times before he gets it through. Okay, okay.

Diego and Dave are talking while he gets his supplies prepared. He leans down to start sewing Diego’s skin together, but his hands are trembling. He tries to calm his body, knows he’s done this successfully before, but they won’t stop.

“Dave.” He speaks his name, panic bleeding into his voice. “Dave, do you know how to stitch a wound?”

Dave is immediately by his side reaching out for the needle.

“Yeah. I got it.”

Klaus breathes out, hands them to Dave. Moves back to give him space. He feels kind of terrible. He should be able to care for his family. And he’s angry at his body. He thought when he got through withdrawal, when he was a while into his sobriety, he would stop shaking like that. He thought it was he drugs. No. Sometimes it’s like his body has a mind of its own. Sometime she shakes for no reason. Fuck! Damn it!

He focuses on breathing. Dave is careful and precise, and Klaus is so grateful that he’s here. Diego keeps breathing strangely, and when his eyes start to water he shuts them tight, leaning his head back.

“Hey, hey,” Klaus gets up on the couch, careful not to move too quickly and jostle Diego’s leg again. “Here, squeeze my hand.”

Diego clutches his hand tightly and squeezes. Klaus murmurs to him quietly as Dave makes careful, careful stitches.

When Dave finishes with the stitches Klaus takes over again. He deals with Diego’s smaller injuries while the two talk.

“So, who are you? How do you know Klaus?”

“I’m Dave. We met doing laundry last night.”

Diego rolls his eyes and smacks Klaus’s shoulder. It doesn’t even sting, and Klaus suspects that on top of not wanting to actually hurt him, Diego might be a little out if it.

“Of course you did. He can’t make friends the normal way ‘cause he’s a creepy little weirdo.”

Klaus shrugs at that. It’s not said with any ire or ill will.

“Fair.”

“So who are you?” Dave asks.

“Klaus’s brother. Diego.”

“Nice to meet you.”

Klaus is done patching Diego up, and he thinks breakfast is probably a good idea.

“So, you two staying for breakfast? My lovely and well behaved patients?”

“Make us pancakes.”

“No.”

“Why not, bro?” Diego asks.

“I’m out of eggs.”

“Why are you out of eggs?”

Oh my god, such a dick.

“Maybe I’m freaked out by your raw egg eating tendencies. Not happening in my house again. I have frozen waffles.”

“Listen, I don’t want to intrude-“

Diego turns to Dave, an analyzing look on his face. Dave quiets, stands there and looks at Diego. Diego speaks up after a moment.

“You should stay. You’re gonna want to make friends with Klaus. Maybe one day he’ll make you pancakes.” A glare is shot at Klaus. Klaus elects to ignore that and puts a pot of coffee on.
Then he grabs the waffles from his fridge and pops them into his toaster. It’s a big, fancy toaster. He stole it from the kitchen at the mansion. It used to be a tasteful navy blue, but he painted it rainbow. It can make a bunch of toast all at once. Klaus treasures this toaster.

He walks back over and gestures until Diego gives him his hand. Tugging him up gently, he walks him over to the kitchen counter. Dave gets up and supports Diego on his other side, and they get him situated in one of the stools at the counter.

Klaus starts to dig through the fridge while they talk.

“Why did you get beat up?”

“Some asshole followed me out of a bar and wanted to fight. How did you get… shot?”

Oh no. Klaus doesn’t need Dave to know about his weird, fucked up family. He loves Diego. He’s not ashamed of Diego. It’s just a little embarrassing to be “one of those kids” from the Umbrella Academy.

“Chasing criminals.”

“Oh cool.”

Okay. Dave really was the same kind of stupid as Klaus if he was going to accept that as an answer. That’s cool though. They have something in common.

“Klaus.”

Klaus turns to see Diego looking at him, eyebrows up high and an amused smile on his face. Oh, Klaus doesn’t like that look at all.

“Klaus, are you sure it’s not like that?”

“Like tha- no!”

“But isn’t he just your type? Introverted? Impulsive?”

Klaus isn’t going to take this. Pouring out a cup of coffee, he stalks over to the counter where the two are sitting. He stops in front of Dave and makes eye contact, runs his tongue along his bottom lip. Dave’s eyes drop down to his mouth. Oh hell yeah.

“Maybe he is my type.”

Dave’s cheeks are flushed and he’s sporting an embarrassed grin. Still, he takes the coffee from Klaus’s hands and winks at him. Double hell yeah.

The waffles pop up and Klaus jumps, yelping in surprise. Oof. Jumpy. He goes and grabs plates, grabbing waffles from the toaster and placing them on the plates. He places them in front of Diego and Dave, carefully setting them down so they don’t make a noise against the counter.

He turns to get syrup and butter. Balancing them on one arm, he also grabs some strawberries from the fridge. When he turns around, Diego already has a whole waffle in his mouth, sans condiments.

“Dude.” Dave whispers. Klaus shrugs and sits down. It’s a few minutes later that Dave speaks again.

“Wait a minute.” Klaus and Diego look up. “This is weird.”

“Oh?” Klaus says.

“What tipped you off?” Diego says around l a mouthful of waffle.

“Who are you two?”

Diego grabs Klaus’s arm and pulls up his- Dave’s sleeve, revealing the umbrella tattoo. He reaches over and pulls up his sleeves as well.

“Klaus, what’s your full name?” Dave asks, eyes suddenly big. Klaus would find it funny if he wasn’t so nervous about this.

“Klaus Hargreeves.”

“Oh. Shit. Okay. So you have powers huh?”

“Yeah.” Klaus doesn’t really want to elaborate. This always gets a weird reaction.

Diego seems to have noticed Klaus’s discomfort. His eyes are darting back and forth between Klaus and Dave.

“What’s your power?”

“I can see- uh- I can see dead people.”

“Really?”

“Yeah…” This is uncomfortable. Is Dave going to think he’s weird? Ask him to summon something? Make a big deal out of this?

“That’s pretty cool. Kinda hot.”

Diego groans and slowly lifts himself off the stool, avoiding putting weight on his leg.

“That’s my cue to leave. You two keep up with your flirting. I have to go home. And call Eudora.”

He walks towards the door, heavily favoring his good leg. Klaus gets up to fuss over him. Diego just pushes him away lightly.

“I’ll call her from the telephone outside. Don’t worry, I’m not going to walk.”

Klaus is still fussing, making sure his bandage is tightly in place and nothing is out of place. He worries about his brother.

“Oh, me and Eudora are having a party next week. We wanted to invite you.” He leans around Klaus and directs his next words at Dave. “You should come too!”

And then he’s out the door. Klaus turns, suddenly very nervous. He was kinda hitting it off with Dave before. Now what?

“So… what did you mean kinda hot?”

It’s Dave’s turn to fluster Klaus. He gets up and walks over to where Klaus is standing by the door. Leans against the wall and crosses his arms. He looks relaxed, confident.

“I mean… powers are cool. And you’ve got that sexy goth thing going on. I don’t know what having powers is like but, it makes you different. Unique.” He laughs nervously and tilts his head down, breaking the illusion of confidence. “I don’t know man. I think you’re cute.”

“Yeah?” Klaus squeaks, surprisingly lost for words. Oh man, Klaus is a lot of talk. Why can’t he stay cool when it actually goes somewhere.

“You’re the one who said you were spooky right? I dig it.”

Klaus looks at Dave, looks down. Thinks.

“We’re gonna make the cutest couple ever.” Is the first thing he thinks to say, and bam, it’s out of his mouth.

Dave laughs loudly and pushes himself off the wall. Walking forwards until he’s right up in Klaus’s space. He looks down and tugs on the open sides of his shirt. Looks up at Klaus’s face again.

“You look good in this.”

Klaus smiles at that and grabs Dave’s hand, squeezing it lightly.

“Klaus, can I kiss you?”

“Abso-fuckin-lutely.”