Work Text:
It was late when Ben came home from the mission, covered in head to toe with blood; this was something he definitely didn't miss from the last timeline.
He sighed as he dragged himself up the stairs, hearing Luther give their father the mission report in the foyer. He wasn't sure where Diego went, probably somewhere with Mom. He heard Allison assure Vanya that the mission went perfectly: nobody got hurt, they were just exhausted. Ben snorted quietly to himself; the crimson stains in his uniform was obvious evidence that people did, in fact, get hurt... they just didn't care about those specific people, huh? Ben would be lying if he said that he wasn't even the slightest bit of offended for them.
It's all good, Ben slew them all; none of them had to go to bed feeling like a serial killer. None of them had to be reminded that being dead for thirteen years really puts how precious ALL life is into perspective. None of them had to worry about Klaus apprehensively glancing over their shoulders as he saw every victim of their power's unrelenting wrath but didn't say a word about it, knowing that they would feel guilty and scared. Except for maybe Five, but he was apathetic about it all really...
At least the medium wasn't on this mission with them: then he'd be haunted by the angry perpetrators immediately. Ben would be lying though if he said that he didn't wish Klaus was there; it was always exhausting when they were apart, his siblings were a handful and got on his nerves in more ways than one. Having 13 years of witnessing their stupidity but never having to actually deal with it first-hand does that to you, he supposes.
Who would have thought that the once-junkie brother could bring out the best of him?
Sure, he was a real pain in the ass sometimes, but he was HIS pain in the ass; he would put up with his teasing and dumbass decisions because he loved him. And yeah, he cared for his other siblings too, but they were merely tolerable most of the time; he'd be lying if he said dying didn't make him bitter. He blames the long years of only having Klaus's crackhead company for giving literally zero fucks about anything his siblings complain about. They don't know of the kind of shit Klaus had to deal with and still battles every day. They don't know about the icy tendrils of death that isolate, drain, drown, and numb. They had no right to complain about anything; he and Klaus at least had enough common sense to know that everyone has problems so there was no use comparing their pain. The "I was sent to the moon"s and "I lost my husband and daughter"s were getting old; they didn't hear him saying "Well I was dead and had to watch my brother sell himself for drugs and OD several times for more than a decade" or hear Klaus saying "I was thrown into a mausoleum for days on end as a child and nobody noticed when I came back practically deaf and insane." No, all he hears is: "You guys left me out of everything", "I was stuck in the apocalypse", "I was kicked out of the police academy-" 'Oh shut up' he'd want to shout, 'You brought it on yourselves'. He fucking died for crying out loud, Klaus was tortured, sent to Vietnam, lost the love his life, and died at a rave and no one noticed for CRYING OUT LOUD. Yeah, death didn't make him bitter... not at all. He was a ball of fucking sunshine. He was the calm, patient, and understanding sibling. He loved them all equally and never wanted to strangle the life out of his brothers and sisters. Not at all...right? He'd be lying if he said that wasn't a bunch of bullshit.
Ben was much too tired to let out his frustrations on them though; he'd make a long list of things bothering him and vent them out another day.
He passed Five on his way to the bathroom, not even sparing the time-traveling hitman a glance as he opened the door and closed it behind him. He turned on the shower as he quickly stripped, waiting for the water to be a scalding before entering; the curtain was pulled closed around him as he scrubbed his skin raw with his own personal loofah. At one point, he thought he heard the bathroom door open and close but he was too out of it to bother checking. If the person wanted to use the bathroom knowing full well that their brother was practically staining the white tile red, that was their problem.
After 30 minutes of lathering, scrubbing, and rinsing, Ben turned off the shower and felt around on the wall for the towel rack. His hand came back empty. "Damn," the teen muttered, remembering that he forgot to grab his towel from his room. He'd be lying if he said that he was a brilliant individual 100% of the time.
He pulled the curtain open and rubbed his temples in annoyance. All he wanted was to go to bed and cuddle with Klaus; that was really the only reason he took the shower, he didn't want to ruin his boyfriend's bed after all. That's when his eyes caught on the lush white towel folded neatly on the floor next to a black robe and a pair of navy boxers. Ben felt his cheeks heat up; how did Klaus know that he would forget the essentials? He rolled his eyes as he pretty much answered his question immediately with a "Because he loves you, duh."
He dried his jet black mop with the towel after he slipped into his boxers, only slightly embarrassed that Klaus knew where his underwear drawer was. Lastly, he wrapped his robe around himself tightly and released a sigh of relief. He felt so much better now; definitely still wanted cuddles though. And he'd be lying if he said that he was in a good mood now. Oh well.
He trudged down the hallway, not even considering to stop in his own room first to get changed. He barged into Klaus's without hesitation, dropping the robe as soon the door was closed behind him. The medium yelped in surprise at the intrusion but didn't say a word as he watched Ben tug open one of his drawers and pull an oversized gray t-shirt over his head. He didn't bother closing it as he collapsed on the bed like dead weight, his arms instantly finding themselves around Klaus's thin frame.
Four smiled as he welcomed the contact, placing his chin on top of Ben's head as his hands danced along Six's lower back. The tired boy growled at the teasing gesture, snuggling his head more aggressively into his lover's neck. Klaus only smiled wider as his hands dipped under his shirt, pressing cold palms to his bareback.
"Klaus," Ben warned, tugging his brother's hand as it began to trace his waistband.
"Someone's grumpy," Four snickered.
"I'm tired," he deadpanned, intertwining their fingers roughly, "I'm not in the mood to deal with your horniness."
Four frowned in faux hurt, "That's not a very nice thing to say to someone that let you raid their wardrobe."
"I never asked for your permission in the first place," he replied coldly, "And you do it to Allison all the time so shut up."
"Touche," he sighed before asking, "But do you really have to hold my hand right now? Your palm is sweaty."
"Yes. Now shut up."
"That's not fair; I can't touch you but you gotta hold my hand while you fall asleep?" he complained as his brows furrowed.
"You were trying to grab my ass-"
"And you've been gone all day," Klaus whined, "You left me with no one but the screaming ghosts and quiet Vanya for company!"
"It's not like I asked to go on a mission! If you didn't run your mouth this morning at training you could have come with!" Ben exasperated, tightening his hold on his boyfriend's hip as he tried to squirm away.
"He was picking on Diego's stutter! I wasn't just going to sit there and let it happen; you obviously weren't gonna do anything about it..." he said a little quieter, realizing that it was futile to try and argue with a stubbornly clingy Ben. He was always like this when he spent the whole day apart from Number Four; he'd get grumpy and want to cuddle for hours.
"Let me sleep in your stupid t-shirt and hold your dumb hand, you dumb piece of shit," Six grumbled against the boy's collar bone, pulling their intertwined hands to his mouth as he placed a chaste kiss to Klaus's knuckle. Klaus would have smiled at the gesture if he ignored the fact that it was only a half-assed display of apology for his previous harsh words.
"Only if you let me touch your butt, dumb bitch," Four replied indifferently.
There was a long sigh before Ben begrudgingly muttered, "Fine."
And just like that, they fell asleep: Klaus feeling only a little smug as he felt the slightest of smiles on his collar bone while his free hand rested on navy blue boxers.
Ben would be lying, after all, if he said he didn't enjoy the attention.
