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Klaus knew Elijah had something going on. The amount of radio silence between them was his first clue. He was bored and curious, so he’d left Mystic Falls and the drama and followed his leads to New York. He only knew of one of Elijah’s haunts here and he would check there first.
He let himself into Elijah’s house with the key he’d had made behind his brother’s back, as he did for each sibling at each residence he could find. It was one more way to be more powerful.
He could hear a heart slowly beating in one of the rooms on the second floor. Looking around, silently, he checked the other rooms for a hint of his brother. His hybrid genes gave him a better nose than any vampire and he could smell that his brother was only away for the day, his scent saturated an office, the living room, and a bedroom on the second floor.
With no sign of his brother, he decided to see who the heartbeat belongs to. Whoever it was smelled delightful. Autumn, apples, warm and delicious.
He approached the room silently and peeked in. Nearly gasping, his thousand-year ability to hide his reaction was almost out of reach. There was a young man floating.
In midair.
Above the ground.
Klaus had seen a lot and done a lot, met a lot of different powerful beings. Not once had he ever seen someone who could levitate. He was blown away. As he stood there, he could see the form was rotating slowly.
Not just the levitation was amazing. The man was gorgeous, waves of chestnut hair styled in a sexy tousle. He was shirtless and had deliciously wide shoulders and a waist so narrow Klaus thought he might be able to hold between his hands. The scent of him was strong in here and Klaus closed his eyes a moment and took a silent deep taste of his essence. He felt like he was being filled up with him. He was enraptured.
“Klaus Mikaelson, I presume,” the young man didn’t even open his eyes. His heart didn’t register any kind of uptick. Was he covering his heartbeat or was he just not worried about someone being there? “You’re thinking very loudly, Mr Mikaelson. Trying to figure me out already?”
“How do you know I’m Klaus?” He was curious and wanted to see the man’s eyes, see into his soul.
“I’m a spark,” he said casually.
“Okay. Is that a magic worker?” Klaus asked. “Is there something different between you and the witches and psychic’s I’ve always known.” He knew there was much he didn’t know of their world even after a millennium. Maybe this delicious man could teach him more.
“Oh yes. Witches need spells and physical things to touch and put power into. Like crystals or something. Psychics tend to only deal in thought and future. I don’t need anything but my own will,” he explained.
“I don’t believe you,” Klaus said, though that was only half true.
“Lie. That’s beneath you, Klaus,” the man tutted. “You sort of believe me, but that is based in your distrust of anything you can’t see, touch, taste, or feel. Test me,” he said, sounding amused, though he still didn't turn around.
“I want a tomato from the district of San Marzano in Italy. The most expensive and sought after tomato in the…,” Klaus said and dropped his jaw as a tomato appeared in his hand. San Marzano tomato. Biting into it, Klaus let out a low moan. It had been too long since he’d had one. The sweet juice in his mouth had him quickly finishing the delicacy.
“Alright, Mr Spark, I have to say I’m impressed. At my age, that is a miracle,” Klaus had to admit. He kinda hated himself for it, but that was okay. “Are you coming down soon?” He wanted eyes, he needed to see them.
The man rotated one more time, before he gracefully unwound himself and touched down to the floor without making a sound. For a human, well, mostly human, that was a miracle in and of itself.
Finally, he was standing there, and Klaus watched as his eyes opened and he was once again struck. Right in the stomach. Hell, maybe even in his dead heart.
The spark had golden eyes, with facets of honey, brown sugar, cinnamon, even touches of red. He was stunning. Klaus looked over his whole face and saw the full lips, pink and soft, his bone structure in his cheeks and jaw were strong and masculine. He was perfect.
“May I know your name, Mr Spark?” he asked, giving Stiles the crooked smile that always got him company. Hm. Stiles wasn’t affected by his question, he didn’t have a quicker heartbeat, no scent of attraction in that autumn mix. He may have to change how he would be dealing with this gorgeous being. He let his smile go and tried to convey that he was serious and ready to behave.
With a tiny tilt to his head, a knowing look in his eyes like he could see right through Klaus, the man judged him. He was intriguing.
“Klaus Mikaelson, I am Mieczysław Stilinski. You can call me Stiles,” he said and put his hand out.
“Stiles, I am utterly enchanted. You are beautiful,” Klaus couldn’t believe he was admitting these things. He was never this honest this early. He looked at Stiles, wondering.
“No, it’s not me doing anything to you. Truth sigil. Helps keep the bad ones away. So, you come in this house, you tell the truth. Wanna lie, go outside,” Stiles said with a wink.
“Would you have a glass of wine with me, Stiles?” Klaus wanted to sit down and get to know this delicious creature.
Stiles tilted his head again and narrowed his eyes. “Alright. One glass.”
Stiles led the way out of his room, very grateful for the spell that helped him control everything about himself. Heart rate, breathing, scent. He’s able to mask his usual bird-fast heartbeat into one that would never convey fear. Or attraction.
Right now, if that spell was not on, Klaus would be able to scent his lust and admiration and a healthy dose of fear that just pointed to him being a smart person. Klaus Mikaelson had done a lot of bad in his life. Elijah had educated him about all the members of his family. It was always better to know. But Klaus hadn’t done anything when he’d come in the house. Stiles had been tracking his movement from the moment he stepped on the property. Klaus had simply wandered, possibly looking for his brother. He tried to stay silent to surprise Stiles, instead he ended up being surprised. He had to admit, that felt pretty good. A compliment in a way.
Klaus was also drop dead gorgeous. Blond and brown hair that gently waved across his forehead. Lips that Stiles wanted to taste, dark pink and full. He was tall, just a touch taller than Stiles, but he liked that. He was also built, like all vampires tend to be.
Stiles walked into the kitchen and pulled out a bottle that he knew Elijah liked so figured Klaus probably did as well.
“A nice pick,” Klaus said.
“Thank you,” Stiles said and grabbed two goblets. They walked outside to the patio set. “Don’t worry about anything out here. It’s spelled to block our conversation from any nosy neighbors.”
Klaus sat down and took the bottle, quickly filling each goblet halfway.
They sipped in silence for a moment.
“When will my brother return home?” Klaus asked to break the ice.
“Around six tonight. He had a book come in and wanted to drive out to get it,” Stiles told him, taking another sip. He knew Klaus was watching his throat and neck. He kept the glass up to block his smirk. Having an ancient powerful supernatural being want you was a heady experience, and he was more than okay with it continuing.
“So, Stiles, how did you and Elijah meet? I can’t say your name sounds at all familiar,” Klaus said, trying to keep his fangs at bay at the sight of that long pale throat.
Stiles frowned. “You don’t know?”
Klaus shook his head and shrugged. “Not a thing, love.”
“Interesting. Well, I am Elijah’s godson,” Stiles told him.
Klaus’s head reared back. “How could you possibly be his godson?”
“Well, I’m not lying so deal with it,” Stiles snarked. “Anyway, he met my parents and befriended them for several years. They asked him to be godfather and he accepted. Then Mom died when I was ten. Dad died when I was nearly eighteen. Elijah showed up a couple weeks later. He asked me to live with him and be a family together. So I did, so I am,” Stiles told him, a warm smile for his godfather. Or Godpops, which irritated him though he would smile and shake his head. Or Godpapa to get him all squishy inside. So cute.
“How long have you been here?” Klaus asked. “I must admit, it throws me to not know that my brother was given the honor of being a godparent. We were raised with the knowledge of godparents and what it really means. That it is an honor, something special. There are no expectations, just care and encouragement.” Klaus shook his head in frustration. “I am not used to just spilling my guts. Is this your spell?”
“Nope,” Stiles said. “That’s all you. My spell is just that you can’t lie to me. You still control what comes out of your mouth.”
This wasn’t something Klaus ever had to deal with, he was unsure of where to go with it.
“It’s okay, people tend to ramble around me. My mentor said I’m kind of like a warm blanket, people tend to feel surrounded with warmth and care with me.” Stiles said with a shrug. “Just part of who I am.”
“Hmm. Well, I’ll just have to make sure to check my words before I speak,” Klaus said with a smile.
“Probably a good lifetime habit as well,” Stiles said with a grin. “So, what brings you to our home?”
“I knew my brother was hiding something,” Klaus told him. “I was bored so I decided to figure out where he was and what he was up to. I had a contact who told me Elijah was here. So, I am also.”
“Nosy little brother, huh?” Stiles said with a grin. “I didn’t have any siblings. There was a best friend who played the part momentarily, but that wasn’t to be.”
“Why do you say that?” Klaus found he was endlessly curious about this man.
“I was part of a pack of werewolves in California. They decided they didn’t need me anymore, so they kicked me out which, you know, having a recently dead father wasn’t enough. The extra kick to the crotch was the threat of death if I came around them again,” Stiles said with a rueful, slightly bitter expression.
“They kicked you out of the pack? What about your bonds?” Klaus had to ask. He knew werewolves like the ones in California were different from the werewolves of New Orleans. The type he was sure Stiles was referring to had pack bonds that could be felt. They were broken when someone was kicked out. It was said to be painful and traumatic for the person who was cut away.
Stiles shrugged. “They didn’t care. I just hid at home for a while, starving and traumatized. Your brother saved me; I want you to know that. I hadn’t eaten for a long time. I couldn’t sleep. Trying to find a way to live as a 17-year-old orphan. I got a letter from Elijah - and I’ve talked to him about his mysterious letters - I didn’t know if Elijah was a threat or not, the letter was that vague. It just said he’d be to my house in a few days. I was terrified. So, I went to the pack and wanted to ask if anyone recognized his name, just in case. But nobody would even acknowledge my question. Instead, the alpha threatened me, let me know I was worthless and everyone else in the pack agreed with him. So that was that. I was barely functioning, not eating, looking pretty rough. Elijah helped me get back to myself.”
Klaus put his hand over Stiles’. “I’m glad he did. I’m very sorry those imbeciles in that pack were wankers. That sounds like a pretty awful time.”
They sat in silence for a moment, sipping the wine and just breathing.
“Elijah also helped me discover my powers. He instantly knew someone was draining my magic. I didn’t have any power, not really, at least not that I knew of. I could spread ash, but that was it. We tracked down where the energy was going and found the druid responsible and ended his spell. I got my magic back,” Stiles said with a cold smirk.
Klaus had an erection, and its name was Stiles with that murder grin. Oh yeah. Klaus didn’t realize it was a kink for him, but apparently it was.
Elijah came home, calling for Stiles, pausing in the living room and looking for his godson and his brother. “Klaus, come.”
Klaus gave Stiles a wicked smile before rising to go meet his big brother. “I look forward to learning more about you, little spark.”
Stiles smirked at him as he stood. “If you’re a good boy,” he said, flirting shamelessly.
Klaus walked right up to him, getting so close he could feel the puffs of air coming from Stiles. “I can be oh so good when I want to be.”
“I look forward to it,” Stiles said with a grin as he went to join his godfather. He had no problem handling Klaus Mikaelson, no matter his age or history.
He couldn’t wait.