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Dorian had never been able to say no to that face. Even now, it wasn't easy. Still, he couldn't allow himself to give in. Not this time.
"I'm sorry, Major," he said sincerely. "I really can't help you this time."
Klaus shook his head impatiently, as if he believed Dorian was just refusing in order to be catty, wasting valuable time before the inevitable agreement. He was wrong.
"Look, Lord Gloria," Klaus said sharply. "I don't think you understand the importance of this mission -"
Dorian simply shook his head. Klaus considered all of his missions important. He honestly wished he could help, but this was one risk he wasn't prepared to take, not even for his major. Breaking into the house of Vicente da Costa… the name alone was enough to make him shudder. Da Costa possessed quite the collection of valuable art, and he knew exactly the kind of temptation it would prove to thieves like Eroica. Which was why he'd been quite thorough about making an example of the last thief he'd caught trying to break into his house.
Dorian had heard the story more than once, passed along in whispered tones among his peers, and one of them - Sloane, an old mentor, and still a bit protective of him - had even gone so far as to send him pictures.
"That one's dangerous, lad. Stay away," had been written on the back of the first one. The memory of the image of the mangled corpse still made him faintly nauseous, even now, weeks later.
There had barely been enough left to recognize the man as human, let alone identify him; only his completely untouched left hand, an ugly tattoo covering the pale flesh.
Dorian knew that particular image, had seen the artlessly rendered body of the snake many times during his talks with Reines. They hadn't been friends, hadn't even liked each other much - Reines's abrasive temper had never sat well with Dorian, and Reines didn't care for Dorian's whimsy - but sometimes it was enjoyable to talk shop with someone truly skilled in the work. And Reines had been a very good thief, very nearly as good as Dorian himself. Which meant that if he had been caught, there was a good chance that Eroica would be, too.
He wished he could explain that to the man sitting opposite him, shoulders stiff and clearly on edge, but he knew that Klaus would not consider it a valid excuse. There wasn't a risk the major wasn't willing to take to get his job done. That's why they called him Iron Klaus, after all.
In the end, all he said was "I can't."
"Lord Gloria, please!"
Dorian hadn't ever heard Klaus plead before, maybe wouldn't even have thought him capable of it, and for a moment it brought him up short. But then the memory of Reines' mangled body, pushed itself to the front of his mind again, and he knew that he didn't have the courage.
"I can't!"
"Don't be an idiot! Da Costa has somehow gotten his hands on a microfilm that is extremely important to international security. God knows what it could do in the hands of the wrong people. We have to get it back before he has the chance to find out what exactly he has stolen, and we can't afford a mistake. I need a partner who knows what he's doing for this.
"We've worked together before, and we work well, even if you do drive me crazy with your antics. Look, I'm not actually supposed to tell you that, but NATO is prepared to pay you whatever you want if you agree to help. All you have to do is name your price."
Dorian smiled humorlessly. The first time he got any kind of compliment from Klaus - and now he was about to destroy the little bit of respect he'd worked so hard to earn. But this was one risk he wasn't prepared to take.
"Major. Look around. That vase you almost knocked off the table when you came barging in here? That's three thousand years old. And the picture over the couch, that's a Picasso. It was stolen so long ago that it's not even listed in most catalogues of his work anymore. Almost an heirloom in the family of thieves, you could say. Do you have any idea what those would be worth on the black market?
"Your money doesn't tempt me. This whole plan is insane. Any thief will tell you that breaking into da Costa's house is an idea too stupid for even you to contemplate - although I don't suppose that will stop you - and I'm not going to lose my life over some insane scheme like this.
You've been calling me a fop from the day we've met-" From his own mouth, the epithet made him wince, although from the major it had long lost its bite, had almost become some kind of endearment as the major started to respect him at least a little. He was about to lose that now - was about to prove every prejudice Klaus had ever held about him right. Cowardly weak faggot. He kept his tone breezy and dismissive with an effort.
"- so it shouldn't come as a surprise to you that I'm a coward, too. I'm sorry. I'd recommend you someone else, but I doubt that any thief worth his money would let himself get roped into this. You'll have to find another way."
He stood up and walked briskly towards the door. He didn't turn around, didn't want to see the look on Klaus's face.
"Dorian!"
He didn't stop, just continued on, blinking away the wetness in his eyes. Humiliation made him annoyingly weepy, but he certainly wasn't going to cry until Klaus had safely left the grounds. Maybe then he'd let himself have a nice long sob into his pillow. Indulging his melodramatic side always made him feel better.
"I'll let you fuck me."
The crude words, completely incongruous in Klaus's harsh voice, brought him up short.
"What?" He couldn't believe he'd really heard what he'd thought he'd heard.
Klaus was still sitting stiffly upright. A muscle in his jaw was twitching, the only thing about him that moved at all.
"In exchange for your help, I'll let you fuck me. If you won't accept any other kind of compensation. That's what you've wanted all those years, isn't it?" Klaus ground to a halt, teeth clenching shut. His face was flushed a deep red.
Wow, that stung, even through the shock. That Klaus honestly thought he would accept that kind of… But no. It was probably only desperation talking. Still, that he would make such an offer at all… Klaus was always true to his word. He wouldn't make such an offer if he wasn't prepared to keep it. And that told Dorian more about the situation than all of Klaus's words had.
Klaus guarded his body so zealously. That he'd be willing to sacrifice himself like that, even for a mission… it had to be a lot more important than Dorian had imagined. This wasn't simply about recovering stolen NATO property. There had to be lives at stake. And Dorian found that he could not bring himself to turn away from that, even at the risk of his own life. It seemed like there was a bit more courage in him than he'd thought.
"All right. I'll do it", he said finally, before he turned to dash out of the room. Klaus really didn't need to see him throw up on the carpet at the thought of what he had just committed himself to.
Da Costa's home was a huge, gorgeous old mansion on top of a cliff, three sides of it fenced in with walls and barbed wire, the fourth side flush against the almost vertical wall of the cliff side. The walls were heavily guarded day and night, lit up with floodlights and patrolled by dogs. Oh, Dorian could have found a way to climb them undetected, but it would have taken at least two weeks of careful observation to find the pattern in the guards' schedules. They didn't have the time.
The cliff side was scarred and weathered, but even so the hard stone barely provided enough footholds even for an extremely skilled climber like Dorian. His toes found a ledge large enough to rest most of his weight on, and he paused for a moment, giving his arms a rest and Klaus a chance to catch up to him.
Klaus didn't have Dorian's grace, or his climbing skills, but he was making up the difference by brute strength. It was certainly impressive. His technique wasn't as quick as Dorian's, but even so they were making decent time.
Klaus drew even with him, choosing a handhold not too far from Dorian's face. His fingers were bloody and a little swollen, Dorian saw. Some of the fissures in the wall had edges sharp enough to cut through skin. There was a tiny hitch in Klaus's breathing every time he shifted his weight to that hand, but it didn't seem to affect his grip, and he certainly didn't let the pain show on his face. Iron Klaus, Dorian thought with a familiar mixture of affection, wonder and exasperation.
He took a deep breath and eased his weight back onto his arms, drawing one foot almost up to his chest to find the next gap large enough to wedge his toes into. He pushed himself up on the familiar jolt of adrenaline, letting go with one hand and breathing through the endless moment it took to reach the next handhold, balanced precariously on three fingers and his toes. They were already up high enough that if he slipped now, he'd fall to his death. His fingers curled securely around a jut of rock, he breathed in, and then he did it all over again. And again.
They were climbing almost fifty meters straight up, to the first floor of the mansion, where, according to NATO's blueprints, Da Costa kept his safe. By the time they reached the top of the cliff and the window that looked out over the drop, Dorian's arms were beginning to shake with fatigue. Even Klaus was breathing heavily. Thankfully, there was a decorative ledge running beneath the windows, and although it was too narrow to stand on without toppling over backwards, it provided enough of a stable foothold that Dorian's arms weren't taking his entire weight. Unfortunately, the windows were secured with a solid-looking lock even up here. Damn that paranoid old man.
"I'm going to need my hands free for a bit," he told Klaus. Klaus nodded and shifted until he could get himself securely situated, and then he let go with one hand and pressed it to the middle of Dorian's back, bracing him.
Dorian had been climbing since he was a little child, but even so, he still had to fight his body's reluctance to let go of the wall, trusting himself to Klaus's grip when Klaus was already supporting his own weight with only one hand. But trusting Klaus had always come easy to him, even back when he probably shouldn't have.
He took his lock-picking instruments out of the pouch at his belt and started working on the lock, torsion wrench in one hand and pick in the other. Klaus's hand was steady and solid as a rock against his back, even with Dorian leaning heavily back against it.
The lock was putting up an unexpected amount of resistance. Nothing he couldn't handle, but it still slowed him down.
"I can't hold you for more than a minute longer. Hurry it up!" Klaus said.
"I'm already working as fast as I can," Dorian hissed back. He didn't allow himself to get nervous. There was no place to rest up here, and he very much doubted he'd have the strength left to climb all the way back down. But he couldn't let himself dwell on that. The only way to pick a lock like this was with calm, steady hands; if you gave in to nerves and started hurrying, you'd fumble it.
He shifted the wrench just the tiniest bit, slid the pick in a little deeper… Klaus's hand was shaking almost imperceptibly against his back - the last pin slid into place, and the lock sprang open with a quiet click.
"There we go," he said, pushing the window open.
"Well done," Klaus said stiffly, and Dorian froze with one leg in and one out of the window.
"Why, was that a compliment, darling? Be careful, you'll make me fall off the wall from the shock."
"Be quiet now. There'll be guards inside," Klaus said, and Dorian rolled his eyes. He knew perfectly well how to pitch his voice so it wouldn't carry further than he wanted it to. Probably better than Klaus did, who tended to get shouty under stress.
They'd ended up in an empty office. All NATO intelligence had been able to tell them about the safe's location was that it was hidden somewhere on this floor. They'd have to split up to look for it. Neither of them had liked the thought of that, but they'd be faster that way, and every moment they spent in the house increased the risk of discovery.
Dorian slid silently through the hall, going through one empty room after another. He could feel his unease growing. This was going too well. This floor was reserved for offices, so he'd expected it to be mostly deserted at night, but he knew da Costa had men patrolling the house. Where on earth were they?
The hairs on the back of his neck were prickling violently by the time he got to the last room on his side of the corridor. Dorian carefully turned the door know. The sound of the latch sliding back seemed to resonate like a gunshot through the silence, but Dorian knew that was only nerves. Even his own heartbeat thrummed too loudly for his sharpened senses. He clicked his tiny flashlight on and began to methodically search the room. It was empty. He cursed mentally as he headed out into the corridor again. Hopefully Klaus was having more luck on his side of the house. This was taking too damn long. With every passing second -
A flashlight, much more powerful than his own, flared to life, catching him in its beam, and before he could take more than one step the guard was beside him.
He was grabbed by the shoulder and pulled off balance. God, the guy was fast - he didn't even have a chance to fight before he found himself in a tight hold, a serrated knife pressed tightly into his throat.
The edges bit into his skin, tiny points of pain. His whole body suddenly felt icy cold. So this was it. He was going to die like Reines had died, as a warning to other thieves. His mind shied back from the thought of what they would do to him. Time slowed down, dropping by in tiny increments. His breath was wheezing in his throat.
"Now don't you make a sound," his captor told him. "I know you didn't get in here alone. Tell me where your partners are, and maybe we won't hurt you quite so badly."
Dorian concentrated on breathing. In. Out. In. Out. In -
"No?" the man said. "Guess I'll have to convince you, then. Maybe they'll come running if you scream." He pressed the knife down, the serrated edged ripping a gash into the thin skin on Dorian's neck. He wasn't cutting deeply enough to hit the veins, but it was no less painful for that.
Don't make a sound, he told himself. All he had to do was get through this without making a sound, give Klaus a chance to find them before the other guards did. He didn't think the guard had alerted anyone else to their presence yet - maybe he wanted the glory of catching the intruders all to himself, maybe there wasn't anyone else nearby… whatever his reasons, it was working to their advantage. Dorian only had to be quiet enough not to catch anyone's attention, give Klaus a little time…
Oh God, it hurt, though, it hurt so badly. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think, it took all he had not to scream. Any second now, Klaus would come looking for him, and with any hope, he'd see them before the guard saw him…
The knife pressed in a second time, another gash, deeper than the last. Dorian was whimpering quietly, he couldn't help it, but he wasn't screaming. It was the only thought the pain and fear hadn't pushed out of his head. Don't scream. Be quiet.
"Now come on, just tell me where to find the others, and I'll stop hurting you," the guard told him.
Dorian breathed. Be quiet. He was shaking.
The guard snorted, like he was fed up with Dorian's lack of cooperation, and Dorian could feel him fumble for the radio at his belt -
And then he jerked, once, and went still. The knife fell from his slack hand. Dorian barely managed to support the heavy body before it crashed to the ground. He lowered it carefully, strong arms reaching out to help him. Klaus.
Klaus was still holding the little crossbow that had fired the tranq dart now sticking out of the man's neck - a soundless weapon, but in Klaus's capable hands, no less effective than a gun.
Klaus shone the guard's flashlight over Dorian's body quickly, checking for injuries, lingering for a second on his blood-smeared throat, before turning it off.
"You all right?" he asked almost tonelessly.
"Yes." Dorian lied. His voice was shaking. He could already feel the terror of the last few minutes beginning to take its toll. But the mission wasn't over yet. Now was not the time to break down.
Klaus hesitated for a second, then nodded. "I found the safe. Come on."
Dorian followed Klaus quietly, keeping a careful distance between them, fighting the urge to press close against Klaus's side. Klaus's presence alone would have to be comfort enough for now. Later he could allow himself the luxury of freaking out in private, but now he had to stay professional.
There was another body lying on the floor in front of a half-opened office door. It figured that Klaus had been easily able to deal with his own guard, while Dorian had managed to get himself caught.
The safe itself was a complicated thing of circuits and locks and thick, solid steel. It took almost twenty minutes to open. Dorian had never been more grateful for his steady fingers. Even now, in pain and terrified, his hands didn't shake. He didn't allow himself to get impatient. Klaus was patrolling the corridor, watching out for the guards, but it seemed the two men they had taken out were the only ones on this floor.
Finally the safe slid open with a silent hiss. Dorian slipped the film and the documents beside it into his pocket and left the room. Klaus turned to him immediately.
"Got it?"
"Yes." He thought he might have imagined the smile on Klaus's face. It was too dark to tell for sure.
Their flight from the house felt almost anticlimactic. They tied a rope to a sturdy desk in front of a window and rappelled down the cliff side.
Their car was waiting just where they'd left it. Dorian let himself collapse into the passenger seat, leaning his head back and closing his eyes while Klaus steered them through the deserted streets. His hands were shaking. A few drops of blood were still dripping sluggishly from the cuts on his throat. The pain had receded for a while, but now that the adrenaline was ebbing, it was flaring back to life again, throbbing brightly under his skin. Dorian gritted his teeth. He wasn't going to cry in front of Klaus, he wasn't.
"Do you need a doctor?" Klaus asked, and the tiny show of concern almost undid him. Klaus was only being practical, he reminded himself; as the highest ranking officer, he was used to taking care of his men, and he'd feel somewhat responsible for Dorian as long as they were working together. It didn't mean anything.
"No," he said curtly. As much as they hurt, he knew the cuts were only superficial, and while a few stitches would probably not go amiss, he just couldn't deal with the thought of sitting in the emergency room right now. He couldn't even think of any good explanation for how he could have received this particular injury, and he didn't feel up to dealing with the inevitable questions.
Klaus, God bless his military soul, took him at his word and silently steered the car towards their hotel.
By the time they got there, Dorian's entire body hurt from how stiffly he'd been holding himself, and he was hanging onto his composure by a thread. He wordlessly handed the microfilm and documents to Klaus and set off for his room. He was going to start crying any minute now, and he wanted to be alone when it began. He wouldn't be able to deal with Klaus's mocking right now, and he'd be damned if he'd add that particular humiliation to the list of things he'd gone through today.
"That was good work tonight," Klaus said quietly to his back, and Dorian could feel tears gathering in his eyes with gratitude at the unexpected kind words. God, he was pathetic.
He lifted a hand in acknowledgement, but didn't turn around.
Dorian startled at the knock on the door almost an hour later. He let the wet washcloth he'd been pressing to his face drop into the sink and took one look in the mirror, carefully not looking at the stark white bandage around his throat. Great. His eyes were still obviously red and swollen. Hopefully the dim lighting in the main room would be enough to conceal it. And if not - well, Klaus had damn well better shut up about it, after dragging him into this horrible mission in the first place.
But Klaus wasn't looking at him at all. He was staring fixedly at the floor, mouth pressed into a grim line, the stiff line of his back a picture of military perfection.
"Thank you for your help tonight, Lord Gloria," he said, still without looking at him. "I couldn't have done this without you."
Dorian stared at him in confusion. He was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Two compliments in one night? It was completely unlike Klaus. And the whole way he was standing, that strange tone of his voice… all of it seemed to herald bad news. God, they hadn't stolen the wrong film, had they? He was not going back there for the world. Nothing could possibly -
His train of thought ground to an abrupt halt as Klaus's hands went to the buttons of his shirt and started opening them with jerky motions.
He was staring at the exposed skin of Klaus's chest for a long moment before he could get his voice to work again.
"Major?" it came out as a croak. Klaus gave no indication that he'd even heard him. "Klaus!"
Finally, the hands stilled.
"What on earth are you doing?"
Klaus still didn't look up from the floor. Dorian couldn't decipher his facial expression at all, not in the low light of the bedside lamp.
"I'm… well." He'd never heard Klaus' voice this unsteady. It was unsettling. "I thought I'd get the payment over with. This is why you agreed to the mission, after all."
Oh, for the love of - His nerves had been strung taut with tension and panic all evening, and now he could feel himself snapping. He was almost surprised to feel his hand colliding with Klaus's face in an open-handed slap. (And he could already hear what the major would have to say about that. Slapping. Like a girl. He should have punched the bastard.)
"Of all the stupid, ridiculous -" his voice was climbing into the higher registers of hysteria, but he couldn't bring himself to care. "I know you haven't exactly got the best opinion of me, Major, but that even you could believe that I would -"
God, he was going to be crying again in a minute. Damn it, he was just about ready for today to be done. "I'm not a rapist!"
Klaus looked stunned, one hand on what was already shaping up to be a bright red mark on his cheek. "I thought…" he stammered, and then suddenly his voice got louder, angry. That was his major as he knew him. When in doubt, attack. "Well, what was I supposed to think? I tried to reason with you, I offered money, and the only thing that finally made you say yes was…" He stopped, clearly looking for a way to say it without actually having to say the words.
Dorian rescued him, little as he deserved it. "…was the fact that you were desperate enough to even make the offer, you moron! How on earth could you believe I'd actually… God, Major, do you really believe I'd force myself on you?"
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he realized that he wasn't being very fair. He hadn't ever actually turned the offer down - had, in fact, never even thought about it again, in between the hurried preparations and the panic at the thought of what he'd committed himself to. Still, it stung, that someone who knew him as well as Klaus did thought he'd resort to blackmail like that… And, more than that, the cuts on his throat hurt, his hands were shaking and he was looking at yet another sleepless night. It felt good to be yelling at someone.
Klaus just looked confused. "It's not like… I offered, Lord Gloria. It wouldn't have been…"
"Rape? Of course it would have been. It damn well doesn't make a difference if it's me forcing you, or if you force yourself because you think that's what your country needs you to do. Look, Major, if a woman offered you her body to save someone's life… Would you say yes?"
"No, of course not, but that's… that would be…"
"Different? How?"
He could see Klaus struggling to come up with an answer. Dorian shook his head. "You haven't thought this through at all, have you?" He took a deep breath. "Major, I really think you should go now. I'm tired." Also, he was going to cry again. He could already feel the wetness gathering in his eyes.
Klaus nodded. "Yes, I probably should. I apologize - I didn't mean to insult you."
He looked at Dorian for the first time. Dorian quickly tried to turn his head away, but it was already too late. He knew that Klaus must have seen how red his eyes were. His voice was unusually hesitant.
"Lord Gloria, are you all right?"
He laughed bitterly. "No, I am not all right. As you can see, I have been crying my eyes out, and it would be nice if you could just go away and leave me to do some more of that in peace. And hold it with the taunts - I'm sure you wouldn't know, but in normal humans some amount of freaking out is to be expected after a near death experience, thank you very much!"
He turned away, trying in vain to hide his shaking shoulders. God, what the man must think of him…
The brief touch on his shoulder had him flinching. "Lord Glo- Dorian. I'm not… there is no call for taunts. You were very brave today. I couldn't have completed this mission without you." Klaus voice was more gentle than he had ever heard it.
Dorian just nodded, not trusting his voice.
He heard Klaus's footsteps leaving the room, and finally the quiet click of the door closing, before he allowed himself to fall on the bed and let the tears come freely.
Klaus was not surprised to find himself shaking when he got back to his own room. It wasn't unusual, after a mission. His body, which had never once failed him during a mission, exacted a steep price afterwards, as soon as it was safe to let go. He lay stiffly down on the bed, lacing his fingers over his stomach. There was no sense in trying to do anything else until the residual effects of adrenaline and tension had faded. Of course, that gave him more time to think than he was entirely comfortable with.
He had never seen Dorian that shaken before. He felt a sharp pang of conscience at the memory of Dorian's miserable face, the tension in the lean body. Dorian was a civilian, despite his less than legal profession, and despite his array of useful skills. Klaus was supposed to protect him, not drag him into danger as he had done, both today and many times before. The whole point of being a soldier was to keep the civilians safe. It had to be. After all, if you took that away, what else was left? Nothing but following orders and killing. And he couldn't, wouldn't allow himself to be the kind of man who saw these things as their own reward.
Still, this time he hadn't had a choice. Too many lives had depended on getting the microfilm back undetected, and there had truly not been another man he would have been willing to trust with this job. For all that he disapproved of the Earl's private lifestyle, he had learned to respect the man's skill at his job - had come to depend on him more than he would have liked.
This was not the first time they had narrowly escaped danger, and yet the thief had always seemed to take it in stride, before. There had never been a moment too hazardous for him not to slip in a quick touch or some inappropriate flirtation when he thought he could get away with it.
This mission had affected him too strongly from the start. Dorian had always before been quick, almost eager, to help, in his eternal quest to gain Klaus's affection. That Dorian had so adamantly refused this time should have tipped him off that something was different. He couldn't help but wonder what it was that had scared Dorian so much that he'd make Klaus beg for his help.
Klaus snorted. Well, begging hadn't done the job either, had it? He'd carefully avoided dwelling on the desperate offer he'd made, but it had been there in the back of his mind all the time. He hadn't been afraid, of course - but maybe he had been dreading it a little. Dorian was right - it had been an insulting offer to make, and he would have realized that if he'd bothered to think it through. He hadn't been worried about Dorian actually doing something to him against his will for a long time. For all that he was a thief, and a pervert, and full of horrible innuendo, he was also kind, and gentle, and all-together more soft-hearted than a man should be.
But Klaus had been desperate, realizing that there really wasn't anything he had, bribes or blackmail, that Dorian would care enough about to make him change his mind. It hadn't seemed such a big deal at the time. He did whatever his country needed him to do, and it didn't matter how he felt about it. Maybe he'd even been a little intrigued. It wasn't like he'd never thought about the act - how could he not, with Dorian dropping hints and innuendo and covetous looks at his ass whenever Klaus let him get within a hundred feet of him.
If it was awful, at least then he'd know. He'd been through worse things, for duty's sake. And if he ended up liking it… well, it wouldn't mean anything. Just another instance of Iron Klaus doing what the mission required him to do. Nothing foppish about that.
Klaus balled his still-trembling hands into fists and let the sting of his cut-up fingers clear his head. It wasn't any use, wool-gathering like this when there were things to be done. Those cuts needed cleaning, and it probably wouldn't hurt to call headquarters one last time, just to make sure his men weren't slacking off on the job.
When he lay back down on the bed half an hour later, he was able to fall asleep immediately, long years of conditioning trumping his unruly thoughts.
Klaus was out of bed, gun in hand, before the last echoes of the scream had even quite faded. It took his conscious mind a second to catch up with his reflexes. He was already moving, swift and soundless, when he recognized it as Dorian's voice, crying out in terror. The flimsy door to Dorian's room gave easily when he kicked it, but when he came barging in, weapon at the ready, the room was deserted except for Dorian, sitting upright in bed and flinching in surprise at Klaus's violent entry.
"Major?" he asked blurrily, voice shaky, and thick with sleep. "Is everything all right?"
"I heard you scream." Klaus said. "Just a nightmare then, I guess?"
"Yes. I'm sorry if I woke you up."
"That's all right," Klaus said, absently, because he'd just gotten his first good look at Dorian in the light that streamed in through the open door. He looked like hell - still in his clothes, as if he'd just fallen asleep as he was when Klaus had left him, his eyes red-rimmed and swollen, and his face blotchy, half-concealed by the tangled mess of his hair. Klaus suddenly remembered the glimpse of Dorian's face he'd gotten when he had stormed through the door; his wide, terrified eyes.
Guilt seized him again. He never should have dragged Dorian on his mission, he'd had no right to put him into danger him like that, not when he'd been so clearly reluctant and afraid. Except that there had not been any choice, of course. It spoke volumes about Dorian that he had followed Klaus despite his terror.
"I'll leave you alone, then," he said awkwardly, turning to go, but Dorian's hesitant voice stopped him.
"Wait."
He turned around. Dorian was leaning against the headboard, avoiding his eyes. "Um. Would you mind - could you stay for a few minutes? I'm still kind of -" wide-awake, terrified, still caught in the grip of his nightmare, all that was obvious in the white-knuckled hold he had on the blanket. But what he finally settled on was. "-shaky. Just - sit down for a moment, talk to me? Or - well, if you don't want to, at least turn on the lights when you go, will you?"
Klaus hesitated, suddenly aware that there was something he could do to repay at least part of his debt. He could offer - not sex, that wasn't something Dorian would accept under these conditions, but maybe comfort. Safety.
He took a few hesitant steps towards the bed. "Scoot over," he said gruffly. Dorian gave him a wide-eyed look of confusion, and Klaus made an impatient shooing motion at him.
Dorian obeyed automatically, but he held up a hand when Klaus moved to climb into the bed. "Wait, wait - we've talked about this, I said I didn't want you to -"
Klaus shook his head. "I'm not offering." He sat up against the headboard, a pillow behind his back and his gun in his hand. "Go to sleep, Lord Gloria. I'll keep watch."
Dorian was still watching him with wide eyes, even as he slid slowly down to lie beside Klaus, on the edge of his own side of the bed, carefully not touching him.
"You're safe now," Klaus said quietly. They'd ended up forced to camp together in enemy territory a time or two, and Dorian had always trusted him to keep the both of them safe while he slept. He clearly hadn't yet lost that trust in Klaus, as much as he didn't really deserve it right now. He was the one who'd taken them both into danger in the first place, after all.
But Dorian's breathing was already evening out, his face losing the haunted look. He startled a bit a few times, eyes fluttering open to search out Klaus as though he had to convince himself that he hadn't disappeared, but when he finally fell asleep, he seemed to rest peacefully.
Klaus leaned more comfortably against his pillow, settling into the centered, watchful state he fell into when he had to spend a long time on watch.
He wasn't very surprised when Dorian started inching closer. Of course he'd be grabby even in his sleep. Klaus stiffened when Dorian came to rest with his head against Klaus's thigh and his hand on top of Klaus's knee. But Dorian's breathing was still deep and even, and his hand stayed loosely curled on Klaus's leg, motionless and not quite high enough to be in dangerous territory, so it didn't quite seem worth waking him just to shove him away.
Dorian's hair was tangled messily around his face, covering his nose and mouth. Klaus reached out and gathered the thick curls in one hand, tucking them carefully behind Dorian's ear. Dorian made a quiet sound and Klaus snatched his hand back. Dorian didn't wake up, but Klaus didn't try to touch him again. It had been a very stupid impulse, anyway.
He crossed his arms, rubbing his hand against his shirt to chase away the sensation of soft curls tickling his palm.
Klaus made sure to be out of the bed before Dorian woke up. He sat down at the rickety table in the corner of the room and started cleaning his gun. It didn't actually need it, considering that he hadn't even fired it during the mission, but the familiar, repetitive motions at least gave him something to do.
Dorian started stirring before Klaus was done.
"Good morning," Klaus said, watching Dorian warily. He really hoped Dorian wouldn't start making jokes about the fact that technically, they'd spent the night in bed together, especially when Klaus didn't really have a good explanation for why he'd done it. Dorian was a grown man, after all – he could damn well deal with his night terrors himself. Even if they were Klaus's fault. He started reassembling his Magnum automatically, eyes still on Dorian.
"Why, it appears to be a great morning, darling," Dorian said, gaze flickering over Klaus's body - clad very decently and modestly in thick pajamas and an undershirt, so there was no rational reason to feel so exposed. Still, Klaus suddenly regretted not going back to his room to change. Dorian was watching his hands now, and there shouldn't be any reason to feel uncomfortable about having Dorian watch him handle his gun, either - there was nothing erotic or indecent about that, after all - but there was something about the look on Dorian's face…
"Stop using that stupid nickname. And don't stare!" Klaus said, glaring at him.
"Maybe I'm just trying to learn how to clean a gun," Dorian said.
Klaus snorted disparagingly, snapping the last piece into place with a reassuringly solid click. "You're certainly not touching this one," he said. "And better yet, just stay away from guns in general."
"You're wounding me," Dorian said, pressing a hand theatrically over his heart. Klaus felt the corners of his mouth twitching upwards against his will. He looked away quickly, demonstratively checking his Magnum over.
Dorian's smile faded, and he took a deep breath. "I'm sorry about last night," he said, his face flushing a faint red.
Klaus shrugged. "You're not the first man to have a nightmare after a bad mission, and you were hurt. It happens."
Dorian blinked at him in exaggerated surprise. "Iron Klaus showing patience for other people's shortcomings? Be honest with me, darling. Am I dying?"
Klaus glared at him. Dorian was a civilian who'd gotten hurt on his watch; he didn't have to make it sound like Klaus was being soft for cutting him a little slack.
"Well, in any case, thank you for keeping watch last night," Dorian said. "I'll feel a lot better once I can collect my men and disappear for a while."
Klaus blinked. "Disappear? You don't think you're still in danger?"
"Oh, of course I am," Dorian said, sounding surprised. "If you think da Costa isn't going to want revenge, you really don't know him very well."
"But he doesn't know who you are," Klaus said. "I doubt that guard is going to able to give a very good description of us, if he remembers anything at all when he wakes up. It was dark, and you had your hair covered."
Dorian laughed bitterly. "Oh, darling. Da Costa's a pretty good thief in his own right, did you know that? He'll be able to recognize my style just as easily as I could recognize his. He'll know it's me. It'll be better if I don't show my face around Castle Gloria for the next little while. It's not very defensible, as beautiful as it is."
Klaus froze. So he'd put Dorian in even greater danger than he'd thought. Dorian was tugging absently at the bandage around his neck, as if the wound was bothering him. It had to be painful, but he hadn't complained about it once, Klaus realized. He hadn't complained about having to leave his home and go into hiding, either. It wasn't quite a surprise at this point that Dorian could be stoic or brave, even though Klaus had never thought of him in those terms before. But he shouldn't have to be. It was Klaus's job to make sure the world was a safe place so men like Dorian could be silly and frivolous when they wanted to be; he hadn't been doing it very well.
He looked down at his hands, and took a deep breath. "If you need a safe place to hide," he said, without looking at Dorian. "you could come stay at the Schloss for a while. It's very well protected, and I doubt anyone would think to look for you there."
He made himself look up. Dorian was staring at him from wide blue eyes. "You mean, at your Schloss? Eberbach? With you?" he said.
Klaus shrugged uncomfortably. "Just until it's safe for you to leave. And I don't want any of your thieves showing up at my home. Especially not that damn accountant!"
Dorian was staring at him in wonder, and Klaus had to fight the urge to yell at him just to make him stop. But the tight clench of guilt in his chest was slowly loosening as Dorian started smiling, his face losing that tight, worried look. "Darling," Dorian said, and this was the man Klaus knew, the mischievous, irritating flirt; not that serious, toughened stranger. It shouldn't have been such a relief to see that side of him again. "I'm starting to think this mission may have been worth it."
Klaus had been completely surprised the first time Dorian joined him on his morning run. Now, after five days of Dorian showing up like clockwork on the front steps of the castle every morning, he actually found himself lingering a little over his stretches when he was still alone five minutes after the usual time of 6:30 am. Not that he was waiting, per se. It never hurt to make sure your muscles were properly warmed up, that was all.
"This is a horrifyingly uncivilized hour to be awake, you know," Dorian said, stumbling through the door and blinking owlishly into the first rays of the rising sun.
Klaus rolled his eyes. Dorian had complained about the early hour every single day since they'd arrived at the Schloss, and yet, he kept showing up. "No one asked you to come along. It's not like I'd actually expect any member of the British nobility to do anything but laze in bed until noon, and certainly not you." He set down the path into the woods without waiting for a reply.
"Well, I usually run in the evenings," Dorian said, ignoring the implied insult and falling easily into step beside him. "But it's so much nicer to have company, don't you think?"
Klaus snorted. In truth, he'd started to enjoy having Dorian along for his morning run, but if Klaus admitted as much, Dorian would only draw the wrong conclusions.
After a little while, the path through the woods narrowed down enough that they couldn't keep running side by side, so Klaus let Dorian draw ahead. Dorian was wearing his completely ridiculous sports outfit again, a thin, skin-tight piece of clothing that hugged him so tightly he might as well have worn nothing at all, clinging to the strong muscles of his back and ass.
Klaus blushed and tore his eyes away. He'd found his thoughts straying in indecent directions far too often lately, as if the few days where he'd thought he would finally let Dorian have his way with him had opened some sort of floodgate, and now he couldn't get his wandering mind back under control.
He put on a burst of speed, shoved past Dorian on a slightly wider section of the path, and took the lead, setting a punishing pace. After ten minutes, his chest was starting to burn and his heart was pounding, but at least his head had finally cleared. He could hear Dorian panting, and the distance between them was beginning to increase. Dorian usually kept up well enough, but he didn't have Klaus's endurance.
"If you're - trying to prove - that you're faster than me - you can stop now, I concede the point," Dorian called from behind him, gasping between words.
Klaus made himself slow down and let Dorian catch up.
"Oh good," Dorian said, still breathing fast. "You don't want to make me stroke out, you know. James would never stop whining."
Klaus made a face. He really didn't even want to think about that nuisance. "Where is he, anyway? I was expecting him to show up at the gates, whining about how he doesn't trust you alone with me, four days ago."
"Oh, the gang's doing some sort of low-profile, high-profit heist in Canada. Completely boring, of course, no flash at all, but James was very excited about it," Dorian said airily.
Klaus winced. "Don't tell me things like that!"
Dorian laughed, but sobered up quickly. "I'm just glad they're somewhere safe for the time being," he said quietly. "And me, too. I really am very grateful for your letting me stay here, you know."
Klaus found his gaze drawn involuntarily to the thin red scars on Dorian's neck. They'd probably be almost invisible when they were fully healed, but they were still very obvious now. Dorian usually covered them up with make-up during the day, but right now they stood out brightly against his flushed, sweaty skin.
"We're going to catch da Costa eventually. His lawyers aren't always going to be able to protect him," he said grimly. Dorian smiled at him, and something clenched in Klaus's chest. He put on speed again, leaving Dorian scrambling to catch up.
"Oh for the love of God, it's not a race, you crazy man!" Dorian yelled after him, but he was laughing.
Klaus returned to the Schloss filled with the pride of a job well done, and his heart still pounding with excitement. Three days ago, the geeks at headquarters had finally finished decrypting the microchip they'd stolen from da Costa's house. Since then, they'd succeeded in apprehending not only an arms dealer trying to smuggle a truckload of explosives across the border, but, when the man decided cooperating was his best option, also most of the members of the terrorist cell the weapons had been meant for. And to top it all off -
"Major! You're back!" Dorian had been stretched out on the sofa in the parlor, reading a book, but he dropped it on the floor and jumped up when Klaus entered the room. "Things went well, then?" he asked, after getting one look at Klaus's face.
"We got da Costa," Klaus said, and an incredulous smile started spreading over Dorian's face. "He's been brokering arms deals between terrorist groups and the weapon traders he works with for quite some time now, but we never even found enough proof for a warrant before. This is the first time we've caught someone who's willing to testify against him. Interpol already has him in custody, and he's not getting out again for a long damn time," he said, smiling, and Dorian beamed back at him.
"I'm glad," he said. "I'm so glad. It really was worth it, then."
Klaus nodded. "You helped save a lot of people's lives," he said. "And you're safe now."
Unexpectedly, Dorian's smile dimmed a little at that. "I guess I'll get out of your hair then, huh?" he said, a little sadly. "Thank you again for the protection and the hospitality. It was very kind of you." He grinned a little weakly. "I promise I'm not going to bother you again for a while. I know it must have been annoying, having me camped out in your home all the time."
"You're very welcome," Klaus said uncomfortably.
So that was that. Dorian was going back to England, the castle was going to be deserted again, and they wouldn't see each other until the next time fate or NATO forced them to work together. Klaus would go back to exercising, eating and living alone, the way he'd always liked it.
Klaus took a deep breath, and then he caught Dorian's shoulder, pulled him close, and pressed their lips together in a hard, awkward kiss. Dorian was frozen in surprise for a long moment before he relaxed against Klaus's chest, gentling the kiss so their lips weren't mashed together, taking Klaus's free hand and entwining their fingers.
After a long moment, Klaus carefully pulled away. He felt sick with nerves, the rushing of blood in his ears drowning out all other sounds. "If you wanted," he said stiffly, the words sticking in his throat, "you'd be welcome to visit. Any time."
Dorian laughed, a bright, musical sound, and sat back down on the couch with a thud. "Darling, if you think I'm leaving now, you've got another think coming."
He reached out his hand to pull Klaus down next to him, and finally, Klaus let himself be caught.