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Klaus twirled around his room, Vanya’s skirt flying out around him. He giggled, a real laugh, not one of the forced, disconnected ones that the Hargreeves' had gotten used to. On the other side of the room, Vanya leaned back against his cushions, watching him. As happy as she was, she felt a bit of melancholy, too. If she had known that this was all it took to make her brother happy, she would have done it ages ago. And she couldn’t help but wonder how long it would take for him to draw back again, leaving everyone behind.
She turned her attention back to her own outfit. She had swapped out her skirt for Klaus’ shorts, which she liked so much better. She didn’t know what it was. They were the same length, the same fabric, and it wasn’t the flowiness of the skirt that bothered her. But the shorts just felt better, in a way that she was sure she would never be able to describe. It was almost enough for her to ask Klaus if he would be willing to swap more often. She didn’t ask, though. The idea of asking him for anything was just a bit too much. Ben, she was comfortable with. Five made it known that he didn’t give a shit what his number was, even though he was the only one who’d opted not to change it. But with Klaus, she didn’t really know where she stood, or how much of his relatively good position he was willing to sacrifice.
On his night table, the clock read 12:15. They had fifteen minutes before they had to go back to training.
“We should switch back,” she said, “I feel like Dad wouldn’t be happy if he saw us like this.” Klaus flinched, and Vanya remembered, belatedly, the day last year that he had tried to wear a skirt to Griddy’s, only to be berated by their father when he saw it on the news. Vanya wanted to apologize, but her words got stuck in her throat.
“Yeah,” said Klaus, uncharacteristically quiet, “we should.” He plastered a smile back on his face. “But hey, we should do this again the next time we get a chance!” Vanya grinned, more than glad that she wasn’t the one who had to ask.
“We should,” she said, “this was …nice.” Was that the right thing to say? Apparently, since Klaus gave her a big hug before running off to the bathroom. Maybe she had misjudged him. Numbers aside, maybe they had more in common than she’d originally thought.
—--
“You know I love it when you come by,” said Vanya, letting Klaus into her room, “but if you’re looking for someone to help you with makeup, Allison is probably a bit more of an expert than I am.”
Klaus shook his head. “It can’t be Allison.”
“Why not?” asked Vanya. Numbers Three and Four were so close, she was surprised that Klaus didn’t want to ask Allison for help.
“Because,” he said, looking away bashfully, “Allison would ask.” Upon seeing how confused she was, he kept talking. “I don’t know, I just feel like she would ask me why I wanted to do this. Maybe I’m being unfair, but you know how she is.”
Vanya nodded. “A bit nosy.”
“Yeah.” Neither of them said anything for a second.
“Well, let’s see what we can do. We’ll probably both end up looking like raccoons, but it’s better than nothing, I guess.”
Klaus laughed. “There’s the positive, enthusiastic attitude that I’ve come to know and love.”
Armed with nothing but a crusty eyeliner pencil and a handheld mirror, Klaus and Vanya did, in fact, make themselves look like raccoons. Vanya wasn’t the biggest fan. Everyone always said that eyeliner made their eyes pop. Vanya felt like her eyes were shrouded. Though that was probably just because the makeup was badly done. Klaus, however, was thriving. He kept insisting that he looked like Gerard Way (which he sort of did), and he kept telling her that she looked like Hayley Williams. She couldn’t put her finger on why that bothered her so much. Instead of dwelling on it, she turned her attention back to Klaus, who had smeared his eyeliner under his eyes. Okay, now he actually did look cool.
They could only enjoy it for an hour. If they stayed up too long, Dad would certainly notice, and they’d both get reprimanded, and then Vanya would cry, and Klaus would pretend not to be bothered only to run off and buy weed or whatever he was into these days. It would be better to cut their free time short. Vanya glanced at the mirror one last time. She still wasn’t the biggest fan, but if she ignored the hair, she could almost pass for Brendon Urie.
Right as they were about to wash their faces (with what were probably insufficient makeup removal products) the door burst open, and they both flinched, expecting Dad’s harsh voice to tear through their peaceful silence. Instead, Ben stood there, almost fully blending in with the darkness. Taking in the scene, he crossed his arms across his chest.
“Seriously?” he said, “Without inviting me?”
Klaus and Vanya dissolved into giggles.
—-----------
“I feel like this is a really shitty idea,” said Viktor, moving from side to side in Klaus’ swivel chair.
“Oh ye of little faith,” Klaus chuckled. Viktor wasn’t joking, though. The idea of Klaus Hargeeves holding a sharp object next to his head was not making him particularly comfortable.
“So, what do you want?” they said dramatically, “The Johnny Depp? The Keanu? Or do you want more of a Brendon Urie thing?”
Viktor laughed. “I want whatever you can give me without carving a hole in my skull.” Just then, Dave came home, stopping as he saw what was going on in the kitchen.
“Jesus,” he sighed, “I can’t believe you’re letting them do this to you. Good luck.”
Klaus gasped. “You,” they said, gesturing at Dave with the scissors, “have absolutely no leg to stand on in this argument. You were plastering your curls to your head before you met me.”
Dave shrugged. “True,” he said, “But I still wouldn’t trust you with sharp objects near my head. I wouldn’t trust you with sharp objects anywhere, actually.”
“Viktor,” said Klaus, “just for context, this is the man who taught me how to fire a gun.” Viktor laughed.
“Alright, alright. I’ll back off.”
“Bye!” Viktor called after Dave, who waved in return.
“So,” Klaus said, opening and closing the scissors menacingly, “where were we?”
“My untimely demise,” Viktor joked.
It really didn’t turn out that bad. Maybe a bit flatter than Viktor would have liked, and he wasn’t crazy about the fringe, but overall, he was impressed. In hindsight, he probably should have given Klaus more of the benefit of the doubt. They had probably been cutting their own hair for years.
Viktor stuck around as long as he could, leaving only once he realized that he was missing his last train home. Before he left, he gave Klaus the biggest bear hug he could manage (which was hard, seeing as they were almost a foot taller than he was). On his way out, Viktor smiled to himself. As much as he would always appreciate the rest of his siblings for accepting him with open arms, there was just something to be said about having someone who understood.