Chapter Text
Dave felt electric.
This wasn’t something he would usually do.
He had never been one for the club scene, always a little too introverted, a little too bookish. The loud music was never anything he liked, and alcohol mostly made him nauseated. It wasn’t his scene. He used to allow himself to be dragged out by college friends when he was younger, but he had grown more stubborn with age; this was the first time he had wound up at a club in a few years. He was 27, and had told himself that he was too old for this kind of thing, until his coworker had demanded he came out with him and a few friends to the local gay bar. (Dave was chronically single, and there weren’t many other places to meet gay men besides Grindr, and, well… he had been feeling a little lonely. So sue him.)
So, he had gone with, had a couple drinks - just enough to feel a little bold.
And then he saw him.
A man with dancing green eyes, lined with smudged makeup, and dark hair, curling with sweat on his forehead. He was swaying to the music, movements strange, his expression rapturous - as if in a world of his own.
Dave felt want tug in his stomach. (This wasn't something he would usually do.)
Before he could second guess himself, he was moving through the crowd, a sea of limbs parting for him, the tide pushing him forward, until the stranger was close, close enough to touch. The man was spinning, wild, before he stumbled.
Stumbled into Dave.
Dave’s heart thumped a fast, tumbling rhythm against his ribs. Green eyes were locked on his face, and he was powerless to look away. Hands were clutched at his biceps, fingers slightly cold in contrast to the heat of the club. He had reached out too, hand steadying the other man at his waist - although, his hands had probably lingered too long at this point. Flushing, Dave pulled his hands back, face apologetic. “You okay?” he asked, half shouting to be heard over the music.
The man’s face split into a grin, before he ducked closer to speak into Dave’s ear. “All thanks to you,” he said, “my knight in shining armour!”
Dave made an embarrassing noise in his throat. “Could I- uh, get you a drink?”
“Oh well, if you’re offering,” the man said. He reached out to take one of Dave’s hands in his, and began dancing through the crowd, light on his feet, leaving Dave to lumber behind him. He darted in at the bar and managed to weasel to the front, waving down a bartender with practiced ease.
“What would you like?” asked Dave, fumbling for his wallet.
Those sharp, smudged eyes trailed down Dave, gaze heavy and suggestive.
“To drink,” Dave clarified.
“Oh, whatever you’re having,” came the easy reply.
Dave swallowed, before ordering a couple of beers - something neutral, he thought, that most guys liked. (From the other man’s slight wince at his first sip, he thought he might have guessed wrong.)
“I didn’t catch your name,” said Dave.
A wicked smile. “What do you want to call me?”
Dave blinked. He was taken aback, a little put-off; the line seemed straight out of a bad porno. “How about I call you by your real name?”
The man had a strange reaction to that - a laugh, but not a happy one. “I don’t go by my legal name anymore.”
“I didn’t ask your legal name,” said Dave. “I asked your real name.”
Dave watched as green eyes crinkled in a smile. He thought that it might have been the first genuine smile he had seen, and he was overcome with the desire to earn more.
“Klaus,” he said. “My name’s Klaus.”
“Nice to meet you, Klaus. I’m Dave.” He offered his hand, a reflex instilled by his mother.
Klaus laughed, but took his hand all the same, shaking it almost theatrically. “Well, aren’t you a gentleman.”
“My mother always used to say, manners maketh the man,” said Dave, half shy.
“I guess I can’t be much of a man then,” said Klaus cheerily.
“You seem pretty well-mannered so far,” Dave said.
Klaus quipped, “Give it time.” He tilted his head back and drained what was left of his beer, whilst Dave tried not to watch the motion of his throat. “Dance with me?”
“Oh, I- I’m no good at dancing,” said Dave.
“There’s no such thing as bad dancing,” said Klaus, with the air of someone imparting immeasurable wisdom. “Dancing isn’t about being observed, it’s about moving for the sake of moving.”
Dave blinked. “Well, I’m not sure how to- to move for the sake of moving.”
A laugh. “Then allow me to show you,” he said, tugging on Dave’s wrist.
He took one last sip of his beer, before abandoning it at the bar, resigning himself to the inevitable embarrassment. Still, Dave couldn’t feel too bitter about it when Klaus was grinning at him encouragingly. The music was loud enough and the lights dim enough that Dave couldn’t overthink things. Instead, he followed Klaus’ example, laughing when Klaus threw himself around, only half in rhythm with the music. Dave felt hot and alive and dizzy, the space between their bodies narrowing, eyes locked on each other.
Dave startled when a hand landed on his shoulder.
Behind him, Anthony - his coworker - stood with raised eyebrows, expression sparkling with mischief. He tried not to think about how quickly gossip spread in his office. “We’re heading out,” said Anthony, jabbing a thumb towards the drunken gaggle of office workers behind him. “You coming?”
With a glance back to check that Klaus was still there, Dave clutched at his courage, and said, “Nah, think I’ll stay. See you Monday?”
“Atta boy,” said Anthony. He shot a wink at Klaus, before starting back towards his friends.
Dave flushed. “Sorry about that,” he said.
“Friend of yours?” Klaus said archly.
“Coworker,” explained Dave.
“Hope you didn’t miss out on your ride,” said Klaus.
“Nah, I walked here. I don’t live far.”
“Well, in that case,” said Klaus, leaning in close, “maybe you could take me back to yours for some… coffee?”
Dave felt his stomach flutter. He had never been one for this scene, never one to take a man to bed for a night. He was old fashioned, most people said, or maybe just a prude. Truthfully, the thought had always made him too anxious - too many variables, too many unknowns. But here, with Klaus, it didn’t feel all that scary. “Sure,” he said.
They got outside, the cool night air pressed against their skin, Dave a little too buzzed to feel it properly, and Klaus threaded their hands together. His knuckles were knobbly between Dave’s fingers. Klaus gave a little after you gesture with his free hand, and Dave said, “This way.”
The pair of them started off, half stumbling, shoulders pressed together. Dave felt the body next to him shiver. “Shit, are you cold? Here,” said Dave, shucking his denim jacket. It wasn’t much protection against the cold, but it was better than the sheer, sparkly crop top that Klaus wore.
Klaus eyed him strangely for a moment. “It’s okay,” he said, “I’m always cold.”
Dave hesitated, jacket still held out between them. “Pretty sure you need it more than I do.”
A shrug, and then Klaus took the jacket, pulling it on with a speed that belied his casual expression. “Thanks,” he said.
“It’s no problem,” said Dave.
“You’re making me feel like a girl on her first date,” teased Klaus, fiddling with the cuffs a moment, before taking Dave’s hand again.
Dave smiled, a small thing. “Can’t say I’ve been on a lot of those.”
“First dates? Or dates in general?” asked Klaus.
“Both,” said Dave.
“Well,” said Klaus, “I can’t believe that’s true!”
“Because I’m so charming?”
“And handsome, don’t forget handsome!”
Dave laughed, a bubbling sound. “Of course, that too,” he said.
“So, come on, why no dates? Out with it!” demanded Klaus, poking him in the shoulder.
Dave said, “Oh, I don’t know. Grew up in a small town - well, you know the story. Conservative, everyone-knows-everyone place. Only moved out to the city when I went to college, and I guess I never really broke the habit.”
“That’s tragic,” decided Klaus. “Nice guy like you? You should have all the dates! All the dates!”
“Well, we can consider this a start,” said Dave, voice hopeful.
Klaus went quiet for a moment. “Not sure I’m boyfriend material,” he said, barely above a whisper, before adding, “or girlfriend material, for that matter!”
Dave laughed, but mostly because he felt like Klaus wanted him to. “Well, alright.”
“You should get a nice boy. Someone who drinks microbrews and has a dog.”
“That’s… weirdly specific,” said Dave.
“His name should start with a C,” continued Klaus. “Like, Clive, or Kyle or something.”
Dave’s forehead creased. “I’m pretty sure Kyle starts with a K.”
Klaus squinted at him. "Prove it," he said, before - inexplicably - making a shushing noise, flapping is free hand.
"I didn't say anything!" said Dave.
"Oh, no, not you," Klaus replied.
Dave shook his head. "You're a strange one," he said fondly.
"You don't know the half of it," Klaus said mysteriously.
They slowed to a stop outside and old apartment block. Dave tilted his head towards the door. "This is me," he said, "if you still want to come in?"
"Lead the way!" said Klaus.
Dave pushed forward, trying to be quiet; it was late, and he knew the family on the first floor had kids.
He stopped at the elevator. "Would you mind if we took the stairs?" Dave said. "I'm kind of claustrophobic."
Klaus looked at him with a complicated expression, before saying, "Sure! Besides, it's always good to do a warm up exercise, get the ol' thigh muscles moving." He winked as he pushed open the door to the staircase.
Dave lived on the fourth floor. He was acclimated to the hike up, but Klaus was quickly out of breath, cheeks flushed. When they got to the top, Dave murmured, “Sorry, I know it’s a bit of a trek.”
Klaus blew out a long breath. “It’s okay. Reminds me of my childhood.”
“Did you live high up?” asked Dave, flipping through his keys.
“Mm, something like that,” Klaus replied enigmatically.
Dave pushed open the door, mentally assessing how messy he had left it. He hadn’t considered that he might be bringing someone back. “Sorry for the mess,” he said.
Klaus looked around the space for a moment, before declaring, “You apologise too much.”
Dave had to bite his tongue on another apology for a moment. He felt, quite suddenly, very young and stupid. Klaus looked even more exotic in the bare, starched lines of the apartment. Dave wondered why he had agreed to come here.
“So,” started Dave, palming the back of his neck. He scrambled for a beat. “Do you want a coff-”
He was cut off by the firm press of lips against his mouth. Dave made a small sound of surprise, hands hovering awkwardly, heart hammering in his chest. Klaus was everywhere - mouth hot on his, hands clutching tightly, smelling of cigarettes and something sweet. Dave gasped for breath around the kiss.
“Where,” Klaus said lowly, “is your bedroom?”
Dave pulled back slightly, feeling dazed. “Uh,” he said. Klaus’ face was very close to his; Dave could see each dark eyelash, the way his eyeliner had creased slightly and smudged underneath, and he found himself in rapture with those fine details. “What?”
“Bedroom,” repeated Klaus. “Although, I am open to other suggestions.”
In the bright lights of the apartment, Klaus’ eyes were dark. Unnaturally so, Dave realised belatedly, the pupils huge, swallowing the irises until there was only a thin ring of dark green left. Dave withdrew a few inches, frowning. “Your pupils are huge,” he said absently.
A slow blink. “Sorry I didn’t share,” said Klaus. “I just took the last of it before we bumped into each other.”
Dave took a moment to process that, and found himself - well, not scandalised - he had gone to college, after all - but shocked, certainly. Concerned, maybe. Disquieted. “You’re high,” he said.
Klaus grinned widely, teeth glinting. “As a kite, baby.”
“Oh,” said Dave. Swallowing, he took a step backward, putting a little more space between them. “I didn’t realise-”
“What’s wrong?” said Klaus, voice needling. He followed Dave’s movement, reaching up to cradle his face.
“Well,” said Dave, quickly turning red, “I’m practically sober. I don’t want to take advantage or anything.”
Klaus snorted. “Take advantage? Honey, trust me, I knew exactly what I was doing when I came home with you.” He leaned forward to press his lips to Dave’s neck.
Dave choked. “Um. You…” He rallied himself, taking a firm step away, hands up between them. “No, really, it wouldn’t be right.”
Seeming to realise that Dave was being serious, Klaus deflated, pouting. “Fine,” he said, clumsily extracting himself from his borrowed jacket. “You couldn’t have had this little crisis of conscience back at the club? It’s gonna be hard to find someone new to take me home this late.”
Dave tried not to feel too hurt by that; he knew that, just because he had felt a connection, it didn’t mean Klaus felt the same. Nor did Klaus owe him anything. Still, it was a worrying statement. “You know, it’s probably not safe to go home with a stranger whilst you’re, y’know, out of it.”
Klaus smiled strangely. “I’m always out of it,” he said glibly, “and besides, it’s cold out, so the other option isn’t much safer.”
“You- what?” said Dave.
“Sleeping in the cold sucks,” sang Klaus, drawing out the last word.
“Are you-” Homeless, he didn’t say. “Do you have somewhere to stay?” he decided on instead.
Klaus wobbled towards the door. Now that Dave wasn’t walking at his side, his inebriation was much more obvious. “Oh, I’ll find somewhere,” said Klaus.
“Wait,” said Dave, impulsive for one brave moment. “You don’t have to go.”
A slow smirk. “Change your mind already?” he said.
“No,” said Dave, maybe a little too emphatically; Klaus twitched slightly at his tone. “No,” he repeated, softer this time. “I mean, you can sleep here. I can take the couch.”
Klaus frowned. “The couch?”
“It’s not too bad, pretty comfy really,” said Dave.
“But,” said Klaus, shaking his head slowly, “it’s your bed. Why would you…?”
Dave shrugged. “It wouldn’t be decent, kicking you out this late. Really, it isn’t a problem.”
“You don’t have to do that,” said Klaus, uncertain, his gaze flickering between Dave and something unseen. (Dave wondered just how high he was.)
"I'll only worry otherwise," insisted Dave. "It's cold out, and you're not sober. It's the least I could do."
"...Fine," said Klaus. "But I'll take the couch."
"Deal," said Dave. "Here, let me grab some blankets."
"You spoil me," said Klaus, all but collapsing into the sofa. Dave tried not to since at the honest gratitude in his voice, and resolutely didn't think about how people usually treated queer, homeless drug addicts.
"It's nothing," Dave said, retrieving a pillow and his spare blankets from a storage box in his bedroom. When he returned, Klaus was already half asleep, lips parted and breathing slow. “Nope,” said Dave, “Come on, up you get.” He pulled Klaus up by the hand, steadying him when he wobbled.
“ Dave,” Klaus whined.
“Let me make the sofa up before you fall asleep on it, okay?”
“It’s fine,” said Klaus, eyes drifting closed. “Slept on worse.”
Dave pretended that those words didn’t make his stomach hurt. “Look, all done,” he said cheerily.
“Yay,” muttered Klaus, dropping down onto it bonelessly.
“Get some sleep, okay? And I’ll make breakfast in the morning” said Dave, tugging a blanket up over the other man’s sprawling limbs.
“Waffles?” said Klaus, burrowing his face into the pillow.
“Think you’re overestimating my skills,” said Dave. “Eggs?”
“Eggs is good,” breathed Klaus. “Good eggs.”
“Alright. I’ll just be…” he trailed off, realising that Klaus had passed out. “Night,” he whispered, before retreating to his room.
For Dave, sleep didn’t come so easily. It had been a long time since he had anyone stay overnight, even on the couch, and this wasn’t just anyone. This was a stranger. Admittedly, a very cute stranger, with clever green eyes and a mysterious past, but a stranger all the same. Not to mention an addict. What was stopping Klaus from stealing his valuables and sneaking out? The guy clearly wasn’t in a good situation, financially.
Dave tried to reassure himself that Klaus wouldn’t do that. He seemed like a good guy - down on his luck, sure but a decent person. Besides, thought Dave, it wasn’t like he had much worth stealing.
There wasn’t anything to gain by worrying. He tried to put it out of his mind, and get some sleep. There would be time for all of that come morning.
(By the time Dave woke up, the couch was empty except for his sheets, neatly folded, and the faint smell of tobacco. His radio, cassette player, and knife block were all missing.)