Chapter Text
Diego flings the door to his room open, wasting no time to relieve himself of his sweat-soaked workout shirt as he starts walking in, when he hears it and pauses. A nasally sort of sound. Breathing?
He tenses and settles into a fighting position, dropping his shirt and looking around slowly, surveilling his surroundings. A small… human-shaped lump under his covers. What the fuck? No - forget about how absolutely strange this is for a moment: there is a predator in Diego’s room.
He slowly advances towards the threat and quickly lifts up the comforter, preparing himself to strike as soon as he’s identified what kind of danger this could be. It’s… Five, lying on his stomach in his Academy uniform - well, Klaus’s Academy uniform, from when they were about seventeen or so by the looks of it. It’s still a bit too big on Five, but he vehemently refuses to let anyone spend money on new clothing for him when there are apparently “perfectly acceptable choices already at home” - sans blazer, his neck bent at an angle that has to be uncomfortable.
He’s drooling on Diego’s fucking sheets, gross. And also, what the fuck.
“Five,” Diego half-whispers, not totally sure that he’s not imagining this. Five groans and rolls over pathetically slowly, blinking at Diego. His hair is mussed. “What the hell are you doing in my bed?”
“You stink. Gimme,” Five slurs, making grabby hands for the comforter, lifting himself up in a genuine effort to get his - Diego’s blanket back. Diego confusedly drops it, to which Five drops himself back on the bed with a contented sigh, curling up.
“I just got done training with Luther. You - uh - are you okay?” Diego asks slowly. He doesn’t know if he should be worried. He’s still very confused.
“Sheets smell like you,” Five non sequiturs through half-lidded eyes. Then he lifts the comforter back over his head.
That literally does not answer Diego’s question at all. “Oh-kay?”
“G’t out.”
Diego’s unsure what to think as he wordlessly exits his room, but not before grabbing a clean change of clothes. He’s not about to be gutted by his own, clearly sleep-deprived, brother - that would be a new low. He heads to the showers.
“Okay, what the fuck, bro.” Diego stares at the lump buried underneath his comforter. This is getting to be a serious problem. Sure, Diego no longer lives at the Academy, but this is still his bed. And this is the third time he’s caught Five commandeering it. What if Diego wanted to sleep?
“G’way,” the lump responds.
“We need to talk about your behavior. This is the kind of thing a stray cat would do. You’re not a stray cat, you have your own bed.”
“Sleepy,” Five complains, bordering dangerously close to a whine. So fucking weird.
But also kind of endearing.
“Are you even listening to me?” Diego asks, but the only response he gets is a snore. He sighs, grabbing the phone charger he came up to get and quietly exiting the room.
Grace is serving lunch a few days later when Diego notices one member of the family missing. “Where’s Five?”
“My room. Found the little psycho sleeping in my bed a couple hours ago,” Klaus replies, his mouth already full.
“You did?” Diego asks. He’s not sure why the idea of Five sleeping in somebody else’s bed… irks him so much. He’s not exactly sure he wants to know, either, so he mentally puts a pin in it to be analyzed at a never date.
“Uh-huh,” Klaus replies. “He looked so adorbs, until I accidentally woke him up and he told me that if I didn’t shut the fuck up he wouldn’t hesitate to find a way to kill me permanently.” Klaus pouts. “The little guy was exhausted, though, I knew he wouldn’t have the energy to do it even if he wanted to.”
“Exhausted?” Allison asks. She’s just returned from a trip to California. Happiness looks good on her, Diego’s decided.
The day she returned, she had handed out gifts for everyone, purchased at Disneyland with Claire’s meticulous assistance. Five’s gift was a keychain with a globe on it, which had made him grimace. “A bit on the nose, Allison, but… thanks.” His gaze had softened as he stared at the little Earth.
Diego’s gift was some kind of Star Wars toy sword - something like that. It lights up and is currently sitting in the back of his closet. No idea why Allison spent actual money on the thing, but he’s secretly a little fond of the dumbass sword because he knows that Claire was sure he would like it. And he’s trying to be better.
But he’s not so good that he wants to put it on display or anything like that, so the back of his closet it sits.
“He’s up all hours of the night,” Luther says disapprovingly. “He talks to himself and yells when he’s really worked up - about what, we don’t know - and he’s still scribbling all over his walls even though we’ve bought him, like, eighty notebooks.”
“The Academy is huge,” Viktor says, as if about to reprimand Luther. And Viktor kinda has a point. Is Luther honestly complaining about somebody being loud in a gigantic mansion with about four dozen rooms?
“Look, if he were doing all of this in the living room or somewhere else, I wouldn’t care. But he’s not, he does it on our floor when we’re trying to sleep.” Oh. Hmm, fair. “And then he gets pissed off when we’re ‘loud’ and he’s trying to sleep at three in the afternoon.”
“Maybe he’s still… adjusting?” Allison asks. “I mean, he had an entire world to himself for decades. He didn’t have to worry about manners or things like that - we’ve seen the way he eats. It’s got to take some time to learn how to be a… person again. Has anyone talked to him about this?”
Luther shakes his head. “Klaus and I have done our best not to. He’s grouchy, and he thinks every slight criticism is a personal attack on his overall character. And anyway, he doesn’t want to talk to us.”
“He’s an awful conversationalist,” Klaus backs Luther up. “And the other day, I wanted him to paint his nails with me and he slammed his door in my face.”
“Maybe we should just… spend more time with him. And, like, invite him places with us?” Klaus opens his mouth to argue. Allison quickly continues, “To do things he actually likes.” Klaus shuts his mouth and looks at her thoughtfully. Diego chews on his lip, feeling guilty for reasons he can’t quite ascertain. He’s not responsible for the little gremlin. But it seems glaringly obvious now that the kid isn’t adjusting as well as he’d love for everyone to believe. “Has he even been outside of these walls while I’ve been gone?” Complete silence.
“Yeah, all right,” Luther speaks up. “I’m going to the library tomorrow, might as well ask him to go with me. It’s a good idea, Allison. Thanks.” Allison nods, satisfied, and the subject quickly changes to something less intense.
Diego is having a lovely evening cooking orange chicken and humming to himself when he turns around and has a minor heart attack. Five is standing there, his lips set in a firm line as if Diego’s done something wrong.
“You couldn’t’ve knocked?” Diego says when his heartbeat settles and the staring contest becomes too awkward to continue.
Five doesn’t answer him, just walks right up to the stove, his shoulder brushing Diego’s arm, and sniffs loudly. Diego definitely sees what his siblings were talking about when they mentioned the no manners thing. “Cooking?” Five asks, as if the cooking isn’t being done right in front of his very eyes.
“Enough for two,” Diego responds. “Sit.”
Five takes a seat at Diego’s sad excuse for a kitchen table while Diego fiddles at the stove. From behind him, he hears Five go, “Viktor’s been staying over lately.”
Diego hums, not sure why Five is telling him this. Just making conversation? He never has been very good at that, even prior to the whole forty-five-years-in-isolation situation. Diego thinks back on the conversation the family had over lunch the other day, which. He doesn’t think Five would appreciate that they talked about him and how he’s been… dealing. But it’s also interesting that Five would even be trying to make conversation at all - Luther said he doesn’t talk to anyone.
“Wonder why,” Diego says, playing along. “He still has an apartment, right?”
Five doesn’t say anything. Diego turns around to see him frowning, eyes locked on a coaster with the Libra constellation painted on it. A gift from Eudora. “You okay, buddy?”
“Can I stay the night?” Five immediately responds, completely ignoring the ‘buddy’ comment - something he would normally make violent threats over. “Maybe longer. I don’t know - tonight? Can I stay here? I can take the couch.”
“Let me at least take you out on a date before you move in,” Diego laughs. The joke goes right over Five’s head, so very predictable. The kid just raises an eyebrow. Diego rolls his eyes and continues, “You are actually starting to worry me. What is going on with you? Did you and Viktor get into a fight or something? Or… you and someone else?”
Five’s face screws up. “Nothing like that. Just - I may have some… lingering… Apocalypse issues.” Diego honestly doesn’t know what to say. Five huffs. “When I’m around Viktor, all I see lately is us inside the Icarus theatre. Or you dumbasses dying in a nuclear war, Harlan murdering our mothers - take your pick.”
“You fixed all of that,” Diego says dumbly.
“I’m aware,” Five waves it off. He looks like he wants to say more, but he doesn’t. Just fists his blazer.
“You know Viktor didn’t mean to…”
“Yes, I’m aware,” Five snaps. “That’s why I’m not at the Academy right now. I feel bad, but I won’t let myself… I can’t be held responsible for how I act during a heightened state of… I don’t want to hurt any- look, can I just stay here? Please.”
Diego looks at Five, really takes him in. His lips are trembling slightly, his already too-big eyes are wide and a little crazed. He looks like he’s terrified but trying to hide it. He has the same look on his face as he did that night he and Diego broke and entered (or rather, with Five’s help, just entered) into Reginald’s office in the sixties. He looks like a traumatized kid.
Diego realizes he never actually said Five could stay. Of course Five can stay, he’s always welcome. But Diego never actually told him that, and he seems to need explicit permission. Even though he just had no problem at all blinking inside his brother’s apartment and scaring the hell out of him. “Bed is yours,” Diego says.
Five lets out a ragged breath, and nods once. He immediately stands and yanks his Oxfords off, then blinks himself into Diego’s bed. He makes himself comfortable, lying on his back with his face turned, and doesn’t even pretend he’s not inhaling the scent of Diego seeped into the pillows. “Thank you,” Five says, tone noticeably different. Calmer. Still shaky, but calmer. He hugs one of Diego’s pillows against his chest and breathes heavily. “Thanks.”
Not for the first time, Diego feels so fucking confused. “You don’t want to eat before you crash? It’s only six.” The response doesn’t matter because Five is already asleep. He sighs. He’ll box up half the chicken for the kid.
Diego’s in the middle of a dream about a Christmas tree that won’t stop shedding when he’s shaken awake. He sees Five staring down at him, his hair messy as if he’s been pulling at it and his Academy uniform disheveled. He’s still clutching one of Diego’s pillows, holding it desperately against his chest.
“Get in the bed with me,” Five demands.
A couple weeks later, something unthinkable happens.
Diego beats Five at chess.
It’s truly hysterical, the way Five gawks when Diego makes his final move. His eyes flicker between Diego and the board, and he continues gaping like an idiot. It’s truly unfair, is what Five says.
Grace taught Diego how to play. After Five left. Did Five think he was being such a good brother by taking it easy on Diego? He sure did.
“It’s your own fault for holding back,” Diego quips, trying not to rub it in by doing something that would definitely cause Five to gut him like a fish, such as laughing in his face.
They’ve been spending time together, recently. Mostly at Diego’s, or the Academy. Diego doesn’t really do anything that would interest Five. Luther likes to go to the library and Five has been tagging along, Allison’s invited him to go with her for coffee a few times. Diego has his boxing and his vigilantism, and that’s really all he does. So. He asks Five to play various games with him whenever he sees his brother and has some free time. Or, rather, he challenges Five. Because Five would never play something like Candy Land unless he were challenged, which is something he never says no to.
Three days ago: Scrabble. Five won. Yesterday: Monopoly. They called it quits at the eight-hour mark, because Five’s threats of strangling Diego every time he would buy another one of Five’s properties started to sound a little too real. And, also, it was nearing eleven o’clock at night and Five was yawning quite a lot and Diego secretly really wanted him to fall asleep at a normal hour for the first time in… forever. Which, Five did, so Diego counts that as a completely unrelated win for him.
Today: chess.
“I thought you couldn’t play for shit,” Five says, his face turning red. He really is pissed.
And there it is, Diego’s laughing in Five’s face, as obnoxious as he can manage. And then he’s flinching when Five pounces on him.
Five is not trying to gut him. Five is in his lap, straddling him. His face is still red, but he - well, he’s not pissed after all. Both hands are in Diego’s hair, tugging ever so slightly.
“Good game,” Five says, staring into Diego’s eyes. Diego’s hands find their way to Five’s forearms, not pulling him away, but just. Touching.
“Yeah,” Diego breathes, looking at Five’s lips. Five shifts in Diego’s lap, getting impossibly closer.
“You know why I always come to your place? Why you always find me in your sheets?” Five murmurs into Diego’s ear.
“You slept in Klaus’s bed one time,” Diego tries to argue. A pathetic attempt. “He told me.”
Five smiles. It’s not one of those smirks that always has the ability to instantly piss Diego off, but something different. Softer. “Jealous?” Diego bites his lip. Five repeats himself: “Do you know why?” The time Five’s been spending with his siblings has been good for him. It’s what he’s been waiting for and yearning for so desperately, what he’s earned. Diego stares at the man in his lap. He’s too skinny, his cheekbones are too sharp, but his eyes are happy. He has messy hair and rosy cheeks and he’s the picture of joy.
And Diego can’t pretend like spending time with Five hasn’t also been good for Diego. He hasn’t been going out as much at night. He hasn’t been having reckless, intrusive thoughts - his thoughts seem to be all about Five, lately. They’re good together in a way Diego honestly never thought they could be. Good together in combat situations, sure, they’ve known that since they were children. But as actual friends? Maybe more?
“I do,” Diego responds, smashing his lips into Five’s. He’s not gentle about it. Five makes a happy little noise and kisses him back.
Diego and Five lie on Diego’s bed, just an inch or two separating their bodies. Five is reading aloud from Gödel, Escher, Bach and Diego is staring at the ceiling, not understanding a single word but enjoying the soothing sound of his voice.
“I love you,” Diego says, without even thinking about it. And it’s different this time - obviously Diego and Five, and the rest of their siblings, have exchanged I love yous before. But this one is different, and the way Five stutters and then goes silent, looking at him all wide-eyed, tells Diego that he knows it too.
And then Five’s gone. Diego’s heart doesn’t have time to drop, because Five is blinking back into the room a second later, saying “-orry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.” He’s breathing heavily, still staring at Diego with those huge, adorable eyes of his.
Diego leans over, watching Five watch him like a hawk, and presses a thumb to the outer corner of Five’s right eye. Five’s expression morphs into confusion even as he leans ever so slightly into the touch. His fingers brush over his own face and he lets out a soft “oh” at the realization he’s crying.
So Diego tells him again: “I love you.” And suddenly Five’s kissing him, lips pressed forcefully into Diego’s like he’s trying to fuse their bodies together.
Diego’s lying on his back, Five on top of him fucking himself on Diego’s dick. “You make me feel so safe,” Five grunts as he rides Diego. His idea of dirty talk, apparently. Definitely now Diego’s idea, too, he’s never been so turned on. Five is teaching him things about himself every day. He moans as he grips Five’s hips and pulls his boyfriend down to meet him as he fucks up into him.
“Love your cock. I love you,” Five moans as he comes all over Diego’s chest.
Afterwards, Five wants to cuddle. He always wants to cuddle, and Diego always has to rush through a cursory clean-up so they don’t feel gross and hate their lives the next day before curling up in bed with his lover.
After Diego’s wiped himself and his boyfriend down and placed a glass of water for Five on the nightstand, he slides into bed. Five curls up next to him instantly, humming happily and kissing his neck softly.
“Good night. I love you,” Five whispers.
Diego smiles. “Good night, baby. I love you, too.” And, like most nights, Five is already asleep. But he knows that Five already knows.