Chapter Text
“You know,” Klaus says, flopping dramatically into the seat at the counter next to Five, “Vanya’s going to develop a complex if she finds out that you’d rather get a snicky-snack here than at her coffee shop.”
He flings an arm out to gesture at the interior of Griddy’s Donuts.
Five glares sidelong at his brother over the rim of his coffee mug. “If you tell her,” he enunciates very clearly, “no one will ever find your body.”
Klaus holds his hands up in front of his chest. “No, no, not me. Would I do a thing like that?”
Five grimaces before taking a large gulp of his coffee. “If you thought it would benefit you, I have no doubt.”
Klaus swoons in his seat. “Oh, Five, you wound me. To think, my dearest brother would think so little of me, why – why, it hurts me right here, in this region,” he pokes blindly at the left side of his chest.
“The real question is,” Five starts. “Well, no, I have multiple questions. First question: how many times did dear old dad drop you on your head as a child?”
“Well, that implies daddy dearest ever held any of us and we both know that’s factually untrue,” Klaus says snidely.
Five continues, unperturbed, “And second: what are you even doing here?”
Klaus slumps on the counter. He kicks his legs idly against the rungs of the stool, even though he’s so tall he shouldn’t be able to. He’s wearing those skin tight pants of his with the laces all the way up the sides, some ridiculous feather boa curled around his neck, and dark sunglasses.
It’s hardly appropriate for the weather outside, Five thinks. He’s going to catch a chill, and then he’s going to bitch about it for days.
“Ben said he wanted a raspberry-filled,” Klaus says, “but I’m starting to think that he only said that to get me out of the way.”
“Imagine that,” Five says dryly. It comes out fonder than he means it to. He’s really got to work on that. “Get you out of the way of what? Is he working on another painting?”
“Who,” Klaus says gloomily. “Who do you think?”
Realization dawns on Five all at once. “Luther’s back already?”
Klaus slouches down farther into his seat. “He’s all,” Klaus pitches his voice to sound like Luther, “‘Klaus, you’re wasting your potential.’ ‘Klaus, what are you doing with your life?’ He sounds like Dad sometimes. It gets just a tad bit annoying after a while.”
Five tilts his head in agreement.
Before he can say anything, Agnes approaches them. “What can I get you, hon?”
Klaus grins sunnily. “Oh, just a raspberry-filled for the road.” He throws up a finger and twirls around in his seat, peering out the window briefly before turning back around. “And one with sprinkles if you don’t mind, darling.”
He winks at her.
Hazel coughs pointedly from the booth he’s sitting in. He frowns when Klaus spins around to peer at him.
“Oh, come on!” Klaus says, shooting finger guns at him. “I’m not flirting. I’m being friendly. You could even try it yourself sometime.”
“I’ll break his kneecaps if you want,” Five says into his mug.
“You adorable psycho trapped in a tiny child’s body, you,” Klaus coos. “Thanks, but I guess I have to decline, though your offer is tempting.”
Five shrugs and takes another sip of his coffee.
“But seriously, why are you here?” Klaus asks, apparently unwilling to drop his line of questioning.
Five eyes the untouched silverware to the right of his mug and then idly eyes the spots on Klaus’ body it would be most satisfying to sink a fork into before grimacing. He’s been in academia too long, he thinks.
“The coffee beans Allison procured are terrible,” Five says, “and if you tell anyone I said that, I will deny it and tell them you said it and are trying to blame it on me.”
Klaus huffs out a laugh and knocks twice on the counter. He mimes zipping his mouth shut. “Your dirty secrrrrret,” he says, rolling the r unnecessarily, “is safe with me.”
“I’ll know if you tell your knitting group,” Five says snidely.
Klaus puts a hand up to his mouth and sighs dramatically. “I would never share your most secret secret with The Dead.”
Five opens his mouth to retort, but Klaus solemnly holds a finger up to stop him. “If you are allowed to call your dissertation The Apocalypse, I am allowed to call my knitting group The Dead.”
Five tilts his head in agreement.
Agnes drops off the bill and his bag of donuts. Klaus painstakingly counts out change from one of his many pockets and leaves her a generous tip. She smiles patiently at him and then scoops the change from the counter.
A loud, surprisingly shrill honk interrupts atmosphere of the quiet donut shop.
Klaus smiles brightly. “Well, that’s my ride. Are you sure you don’t want to come with, Five?”
Five ignores the fact that Klaus never asked him to go with him in the first place. He waffles for a moment, and then asks Agnes, “Can I get one for the road?”
“You better not let Vanya see that,” Klaus laughs. He waves out the window to Diego, who is impatiently drumming his fingers against the steering wheel.
Five lays a crisp five on the counter and accepts his coffee with a salute. “Pleasure doing business with you, Agnes.”
Diego leans on the horn.
Five rolls his eyes.