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Friday night and the lights are low
Looking out for a place to go.
Where they play the right music
Getting in the swing
You come to look for a king.
Klaus swayed to the music as he watered his plant, moving it to to the window sill in the hopes to revive it. He'd learnt the hard way he couldn't speak to plants from beyond the grave. All day he'd been home alone, keeping himself busy with records, dancing along in boxers and an unfastened kimono. He couldn't let himself stop, had to keep his energy directed, just until he came home. He couldn't let him down.
A pair of strong arms wrapped around his body, and a kiss was pressed to his jaw. Dave.
"I like this song," he announced. Modern music was as good as money, as good as liquor to that man. He always got caught up in it, like he was lost in some kind of hazy dream. By now, Klaus had learnt that his lover was a man of few words, but infinite worlds.
Klaus spun around, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose. Light came in through the thin curtains they'd bought from IKEA, and the sky had been coloured a billion shades by the sunset, but Klaus didn't care. All he cared about was Dave.
"Then dance with me?"
With a bit of rock music
Everything is fine
You're in the mood for a dance
And when you get the chance
You are the dancing queen
.
And the world faded away, for just a minute, and everything was just them. Dave's warm body and his arms around him and their terrible attempt to dance without being more than an inch apart was his real home. Anywhere in the world, any time in history, if he had this, he was sure never be sad again.
Of course, that wasn't true. He couldn't help but reprimand himself. Dave couldn't cure his PTSD, his nagging addiction, or his dysphoria or anything else that held his brain captive, but it wasn't like that mattered in moments like this. Klaus was spun around, and he fell back against Dave with a laugh.
"You're such a strange guy," Dave told him. "My strange guy."
A dreamy sigh. "Yours only."
You can dance
You can jive
Having the time of your life
Their moment of peace was interrupted, as it often was, by a loud crash and a meow.
"Christ, Klave." Dave gasped, moving over to pick up said culprit. "Now, this is why I didn't want to have kids." The ginger cat had a slice of bread dangling from his mouth, and the sneakiest look in his eyes.
"But you're stuck with him and me. You wouldn't want me to be a single mother, would you?" Klaus grinned, closing his eyes as Dave stroked his hair back.
"Never. I'm here for the long haul."
Klaus had never really loved someone. Not like this. But everything was.... Perfect, now.
Klaus had never seen himself as someone who'd settle down and have a family. Maybe he'd hoped, but he'd never believed, but... This was everything he could have dreamt of. A badass husband, and a dumbass cat with a dumbass name, wedged into a tiny apartment.
They lay on the couch, the music soft, just background noise now. Klave purred on his chest, and Dave was half asleep with his head on his shoulder. The sun was down, and their apartment was lit by only streetlights. Everything had fallen into place.
Life was good.