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Klaus's Best Birthday Ever

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Disclaimer: The Foglios own all the characters therein. I just lust after them.

So, I got inspired by this post on the Ask Klaus blog , and my brain took it and ran with it, and the result is below. Because the world needs more Klaus smut.

Rated R for vivid descriptions of sexual acts between consenting adults.


It had started simply enough – one evening, as they lay in their bedchamber, her back pressed against his chest, his arms around her waist, just relaxing in the afterglow, she’d asked him what he missed about Europa. Not the big things, she’d clarified, because they’d already discussed that, but little things.

Klaus had thought for quite some time before answering. It was odd how sometimes, the little things were what you missed most. He’d talked about how he missed his mother’s off-key humming as she worked to repair something, and how he missed the chicken and mushroom stew that his family’s cook had made. And then he mentioned how he missed waffles. They really were his favorite food, and while Skiff cooking was excellent – the spicy sauces and strange vegetables and the good, dark beer – waffles had been his favorite food ever since he was a child.

Zantabraxus had been intrigued by this, making him explain the sort of press used to make them, and what was in the batter. He’d told her, and mentioned how a particular incident involving an automatic wafflemaker had earned him the nickname “Klaus Wafflebach” at university. She’d responded with a tale of how she’d earned an embarrassing nickname during warrior training, and they’d passed the rest of the night telling silly stories and just enjoying being snuggled up together.

He’d forgotten all about the waffles until about a month later. It hadn’t been until Zantabraxus’s sister had wished him a happy naming day that he’d realized it was even his birthday. A note on his worktable had intrigued him even further – it was a simple message, in Zantabraxus’s handwriting, inviting him to join her for lunch in their bedchambers. Opening the door, he’d stopped dead in the doorway, shocked by what he saw: Zantabraxus, lying on their bed, covered in – was it really waffles? And holding a crock of honey in one hand. His jaw dropped, and as she slowly drizzled the honey over the waffles and her body, he felt his blood rushing away from his head. Oh. Oh, my.

She smirked, and coolly asked, “Are you just going to stand there gawping? Or are we going to have lunch?” He quickly crossed the distance between them, leaning in to kiss her honey-smeared lips, when she stopped him. “Clothes off, love.”

“Ah, right.” He quickly divested himself of his clothing, trying not to trip as he did so, and then eagerly joined Zantabraxus in the bed. He kissed her, tasting the honey on her lips as she deepened the kiss, tongues twining in a battle for dominance that left them both breathless. Slowly, taking his time, he moved down her body, licking and kissing at the trails of honey, nibbling at the waffles he encountered. They weren’t exactly like Europan ones, but they were very close, and the fact that he was eating them off of the warm, honey-drizzled body of his wife made his tastebuds nearly short out from sheer bliss.

Really, he thought, as his tongue traced a line of honey up one breast to the miniature waffle perched at its peak, there were few things waffles didn’t make better, and Zantabraxus always made things better. The combination of two of his favorite things in the world… “Best birthday ever,” he said, his voice muffled a bit by the waffles. “And you are the best. Wife. Ever,” he said, punctuating his words with kisses that made her mewl in delight.

“Happy birthday, love,” she purred, arching into his touch. “Ohhhh, yes, Ashtara’s blessing, just like that. Get all the honey…”

Klaus didn’t need to be told twice. He laved her with his tongue, simply enjoying himself, making sure to leave no inch untasted. He held on to her hips as he delved deeper inside her, enjoying the way she arched and gasped against him until she reached completion with a long, drawn-out gasp. Recovering from her orgasm, an orgasm that made him very aware of his increasingly-insistent erection, she drew him up to kiss her, her hand sliding down to brush against him.

She laughed as they broke the kiss, and smiled. “You seem to have gotten a bit smeared with honey yourself, o consort of mine. I believe it’s now my turn to clean you up.” She playfully rolled him onto his back and began licking and nibbling at his body, just as thorough to him as he had been to her, making her way downward until she reached his erection. Kneeling between his legs, she leaned forward and took him into her mouth, licking and sucking, driving him to the brink of madness until he came, moaning her name.

Smiling, she moved so that she could lie beside him, snuggled next to him in bed, resting her head on his chest. “You….” He sighed. “That was amazing, love. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Klaus.” She kissed his cheek softly. “Happy birthday.”