Chapter Text
Klaus balanced the bag as best as he could on one knee, eyeing the rapidly tearing paper as the contents within lurched, sliding out of their messy pile and threatening to send the whole thing all over the hallway at any second.
He fumbled hurriedly for his keys, a juggling act as he tried to manoeuvre the contents and buy himself some precious seconds before -
The door swung open before he’d even managed to find the edge of his fluffy key fob in his back pocket; and there, standing in the doorway, half way out of his own coat and clearly having arrived only minutes before, Geraldus blinked a moment.
He took in the sight quickly, Klaus shooting him a big, sheepish grin - and moved faster still - Geraldus’ hands shooting out and snatching the bag swiftly from Klaus’ grip, and spinning in place. Geraldus was always fast - Klaus thought - his reflexes far outmatching Klaus’ own.
Klaus straightened, following him into the warmth of the flat, pulling his coat off as he went.
“Takeaway?” Geraldus called back, carrying the bag through to the kitchen counter with a curious sniff, “Ooooh - did you get chow mein?”
Klaus nodded.
“Yup - and egg drop soup for Donny, of course,” he said.
“Donny!” Geraldus shouted as he deposited the bag on the counter - just in time for the paper to finally give in and tear, the plastic containers within starting to spill. Klaus hurried up alongside Geraldus, helping him to catch the spill before it scattered across the counter - he’d over-ordered, he knew.
“What’s the occasion?” Geraldus asked, raising a dark brow as he carefully piled the containers out, letting out a happily sounding little ‘ooo’ when he spotted the chow mein amongst them.
“Oh - well -” Klaus hesitated, but was disrupted by the sudden appearance of Donnick, emerging from the bathroom with still wet hair, towel slung over one shoulder, eyeing the spoils on the counter.
“That’s a lot of food Klaus,” he greeted, eyes quickly flitting across the containers, and then landing on Klaus, slightly suspicious, “so you either had a really good day, or a really bad one?”
Klaus shrugged a little.
“I can’t just treat you guys without it being for a reason?” He asked, plonking himself gratefully on a stool. Gods, his feet were stinging - he reached down, hurriedly unzipping his boots, keen to kick them off and free his toes at last.
He felt like he hadn’t sat down in the best part of a day, which was because he hadn’t.
“You can,” Donnick said, as Geraldus darted past him, grabbing plates and forks, balanced perfectly, his years of working as a waiter undoubtedly kicking in. Donnick set about unpeeling and opening up the small horde of chinese food Klaus had brought, filling the kitchen with a welcome burst of scents.
“But….” Geraldus chimed in, sounding just as sceptical, “you don’t usually get this much, Klaus.”
Klaus tilted his neck from side to side, working out a knot, wriggling his newly freed toes, fully aware of exactly why he’d bought this much.
“Well…” he started, “it was Pitchers and Prowling, so I got some great tips, and … also…”
Donnick’s gaze on him was flat, waiting.
“We had someone new start today,” Klaus said, pushing his hair back a bit, feeling the little prickling of warmth in his chest already.
A little ridiculous, he knew, to be sat there, feeling all aflutter before he’d even started explaining himself.
“Oh?” Donnick’s brows raised, just a notch higher. Geraldus broke into a grin. He placed a plate in front of both of them.
“Someone new,” he repeated, “so, spill, Klaus - someone new -who-?”
“He’s…” Klaus let out a little exhale, looking between his roommates for a moment, “you guys believe in… you know…”
He gestured a little.
“The whole ‘oh, shit, where have you been’ kinda thing?”
Donnick and Geraldus exchanged a quick look.
“I think that happened to me today,” Klaus admitted, “I think I’m in trouble.”
–
Lucretious threw the keys into his hands, and Klaus just barely caught them, fumbling a little as his boss stalked past him, already half out the door - leaning back in just for a moment to grin at him brightly.
“-oh, and the new guy’s behind the bar,” she said, the rest of her instructions already falling out of Klaus’ ears as quickly as she’d thrown them at him - he’d barely stepped foot into the bar when she’d unleashed on him - “he’s got the basics, show him round a bit til I get back?”
Klaus nodded, shooting her a bright smile.
“Sure thing, captain,” he said, throwing a quick finger gun in her direction which he hoped made it seem like he’d retained all of that, “and when you say til you get back - ”
“Love you darling!” She chirped, disappearing out the door before he could finish asking that question.
Right, then, Klaus thought, left in her wake, turning the keys over in his hand a moment. Well, at least he knew one of the things he needed to do.
The whole place smelt of bleach and soap - instead of the usual sticky stale alcohol and must - which meant at least that the cleaners had been through in the morning, so that was something.
Still - it was always a bit weird being in Circus when it was like this; The Last Days club was a much more mundane, much less interesting place in the light of day, and without the generous darkness and dramatic lighting, it was much, much easier to see quite how shabby everything looked, and how much everything desperately needed a lick of paint.
Klaus glanced about - it was assuredly just him in, so far, Viola was nowhere to be seen yet - but she was habitually late, so he supposed he didn’t expect her to be here for another few hours yet - when had she ever been around for prep, anyhow?
… and it’s not like this was an important night. It was Tuesday, which meant this was one of those god awful local student events, anyway, which usually amounted to a lot of very cheap vodka, a lot of drunk students, and Fyodor kicking out a bunch of degenerates embarrassingly early into the night.
Still - he didn’t envy their new barman - starting on a student night was rough. Although, perhaps not for this particular new starter. He couldn’t see him, anywhere, but he could hear some sounds from behind the bar - a bit of light clinking of glass.
He didn’t know all that much about their new hire beyond his name, but, what he did know felt perhaps a bit more intimate than your usual new starter; unavoidable, when dealing with someone with history.
Lucretious had left him to handle the DBS clearance, so, it was gently ringing about in his head as he turned the keys over between his fingers a few more moments.
7 years served for possession with intent for supply; successfully appealed. Probation.
He schooled his face a little, keen to make sure that this knowledge wasn’t there on his features as he stepped over; the last thing he’d want to do was make him feel self-conscious about it. It couldn’t be easy, he supposed, starting over after something like that, and with it hanging over you even still.
So, with a little breath, Klaus pushed his hair back out of his face, and slid his coat off his shoulders, propping it over one arm as he approached the bar, dropping his coat and bag for a moment on the stool and clearing his throat gently to alert the man behind the bar of his presence.
He heard another little clatter of glass - a slight startle - and then, abrupt movement - as the man behind the bar suddenly popped up in place - a swift and sharp straightening of his form.
Klaus felt an equally abrupt clench in his chest - he wasn’t quite sure what he’d expected - but -
He was tall. Very tall; it almost felt an understatement to use the word tall, Klaus found himself tilting his head back to meet his eyes.
A bottle in one hand, the other held in the air - fingers curled just a bit - almost forming a shape for a moment before going still - his hair long and pale, nearly white, soft curls pulled back into a loose bun at his neck.
Down the lengths of his arms, dark ink lines - scrawled and sprawling, intricate designs covering nearly every inch of skin from shoulder to fingers and up his neck, too, just to the edge of his jaw. A few more on his face - smaller - on his cheek and forehead - diamond shaped, almost like eyes inked onto his face. His eyes were big, wide, a little nervous looking, and amber in colour.
Amongst these other striking features, he was also, as Klaus noticed immediately, fucking beautiful.
The clench tightened, like fingers digging right into his sternum, as the barman’s eyes darted across his face, quickly taking stock of him, in turn, a nervous, flittering gaze that seemed so strangely at odds with his stark appearance, his imposing height - his expression almost terrified, and gentle.
Oh, god, Klaus swallowed, noticing the tiniest flush rushing to the barman’s cheeks - quickly pushed down, oh, no.
Klaus realised he’d not yet said anything, and was staring, so he quickly cleared his throat again, holding out his hand hurriedly and plastering on a big, bright smile, hoping to make a swift recovery before the poor man realised he was being gawped at.
“Hi,” he greeted, “Kar’niss, right?”
The barman stared at his hand a moment, a little flickering of small expressions crossing his features - lips parting a little - and Klaus noticed the hairline scar running from the edge of his lip up his cheek. Stop, stop staring - he’ll think it’s for the other reason -
Kar’niss hesitated, those curling fingers in the air twitching slightly, forming a shape that looked, if Klaus were guessing, deliberate - like a signal - before he shook his head a little, and then reached for his hand.
He took it in his own; his fingers long, his grip soft but calloused, and Klaus tried very hard to keep his smile cool and casual as he shook his hand.
“I’m Klaus,” he greeted, warmly, “hello hello and welcome to the team, Lu said she’d shown you the basics?”
He nodded.
“Y-yes,” he said, the tiniest little extra hiss on the end of the word, “I was just - I was …”
He gestured down to below the bar.
“Looking around?” Klaus smiled brighter still, releasing his hand.
He’s used to having to explain himself, he guessed, and people being suspicious of him.
“Good idea,” Klaus said, and, because walking round the bar would take twice as long, instead, sprung up on his heels and cleared the bartop with a quick vault, causing Kar’niss to step back, eyes widening in alarm.
Landing neatly on the other side of the bar, Klaus glanced about, seeing that Kar’niss had already been hard at work depositing and refilling the fridges below the bar.
“Did she show you how to use the tills?” He asked.
Kar’niss shook his head.
Klaus fished the keyfob from the hooks under the bar, shooting him a quick smile as he did; Lucretious hadn’t even given the barman a fob yet - she really had meant the basics - hadn’t she?
“Hmm,” Klaus considered aloud, and spun in place, waving Kar’niss over to show him.
“This place is pretty old school, we just barely got contactless like last month,” he explained quickly, tapping the fob against the terminal quickly until the screen lit up, “if it ain’t broke don’t fix it, I guess, so-”
He tapped his way through the menus whilst Kar’niss watched him over his shoulder, stooping a little to crane down and watch.
“It’s pretty simple,” Klaus said as he quickly whizzed through the process of navigating the inventories and tab functions, and then hovered for a moment as he changed the username
attached to the fob - hurriedly deleting the name ‘Drib’, and glancing up at Kar’niss.
“They can’t be more than five characters,” he said, “can I call you Niss?” He asked.
“Niss is fine,” he nodded, that little rasp there on the end of his name - a little lingering hiss.
Klaus smiled.
“Niss it is,” he said, quickly typing that in and handing him the fob, “guard this with your life, Niss - it’s super annoying if you lose it.”
Kar’niss took the fob with a serious expression, and then, holding it up for a moment, eyed the hanging clown keychain connected to the fob dubiously.
“It’s…” Klaus smiled sheepishly, “you really don’t have to keep that. It’s yours now, so, put whatever you want on it.”
Kar’niss nodded, quickly removing the keychain and putting it on the side, before he hooked the key fob to the loop of his belt.
“Alright,” Klaus smiled, “c’mon Niss, let me show you around.”
–
There wasn’t actually all that much to the Last Days club - it was smaller than it seemed - the elaborate staging, the hanging cages and platforms doing a lot of work to make it seem more impressive - some VIP cubbies, a little upper mezzanine, and a cramped booth they crammed a series of generously paid DJs into most nights.
Kar’niss hadn’t said much, just watched the whole thing with a series of little quiet nods, a few little muttered words to himself under his breath as they went, which Klaus took mostly to be his way of remembering things.
Last up, which Klaus had avoided up until this point, was the basement - a space not suited for a man of Kar’niss stature, but, necessary.
Klaus led the way, turning quickly and gesturing for the taller man to duck his head as he went - the ceilings here were painfully low, even for their more averagely sized staff members - Fyodor was constantly complaining about having to come down here.
Kar’niss dipped himself, stooping as much as he could as he descended the stairs after Klaus, and Klaus could only smile at him apologetically as they went.
He already seemed to have something of an instinctive hunch, trying to make himself a bit less imposing, Klaus guessed, but was struggling to get quite low enough here.
As they stepped into the cool basement, Klaus spun in place, gesturing once more to the ceiling - it didn’t get much better once you’d cleared the stairs - the exposed steel girders that barely held up their floors above another obstacle that Kar’niss would need to avoid.
Kar’niss let out a little sound of irritation, and bent his knees a little, a sort of extending, low lunge to step underneath it with his long legs, which brought a smile to Klaus’ face.
So he's also adorable, Klaus thought, unhelpfully, as Kar’niss tucked his hands into his pockets, straightening a little and turning to lean back against the chest freezer a moment - a safer perch, and a safer height.
Klaus banished the immediate urge that bubbled up in his mind to step closer - the abrupt image of stepping into him there, and -
Get a grip, Klaus, his mind chastised, knowing that flirting with him would probably not be welcome, they’d just barely met, but he was finding it increasingly difficult not to do so.
“So uh, it’s nothing too exciting, standard club basement things,” Klaus said, showing him quickly where the various fuses and switches were for the systems above - the kegs and taps - the shelves of supplies for refills.
Still quiet, Kar’niss just nodded away, and Klaus was starting to get a little desperate for him to say something - anything - really - to know he’d put him at least a bit at ease with all his chattering.
“Don’t hesitate to - I mean - you can ask me to come down here if you need,” Klaus said, smiling, gesturing to his own stature, “I’ve got a little more headroom. I don’t mind.”
Kar’niss glanced at the top of his head, a tiny hint of a smile at that. Klaus wondered if he could make that into a real smile.
“Wouldn't want you bumping that pretty head, y’know?” He said.
The taller man’s face flushed, quickly, his eyes flitting to Klaus’ for a fleeting moment, and averting just as quickly, to his shoes.
“T-thanks,” he said, a tiny flicker of his gaze again, and the smile grew - just a little bit.
We can do better than that, Klaus thought.
–
“Ugh,” Geraldus chimed in a moment, rubbing at his forehead to a phantom pain of many, many previous run-ins with doorframes of his own, “yeah, and the ceilings at your place are the worst, too.”
“They're sneaky,” he added.
Klaus laughed.
“Thank god you work outside now so you're only imperilling the fir trees, beansprout.”
Geraldus nodded firmly, and fished another spring roll out of the carton.
“He's taller than me, though?” He asked, mouthful of roll.
Klaus nodded.
“A bit,” Klaus glanced up at Geraldus, considering - he would probably have described Geraldus as his tallest friend - his 6’4 frame and pretty face had always meant he drew a lot of attention the ranger was generally oblivious to, but Kar’niss, Klaus estimated, was taller still.
He wasn't good at guessing heights though, most people were just ‘taller than him’.
“So, you wasted like … five minutes before you started trying to seduce him, then?” Donnick asked.
“I'm very professional, I know,” Klaus replied, with a self-effacing sort of laugh. “Judge away.”
Donnick shrugged.
“No judgement,” he replied, “subtlety has never really been your thing.”
–
“You’ve worked here a while?” Kar'niss asked as they climbed back up the stairs - having been so quiet throughout the entire little tour of their club, Klaus was a little surprised to hear him pipe up with a question uninitiated - and glanced back at him.
Maybe his little bit of flirtation had worked.
Kar’niss’ eyes, which had been focused on his back, quickly averted again and found some sort of interesting spot in the middle distance.
“Oh god,” Klaus considered that as they turned now and approached the bar, “I think it’s nearly four years.”
Had it really been that long?
Four years since Donnick had invited him and Geraldus to live with him at Number 33, Rivington House, because they’d just moved into the city and it was stupid them coughing up for a flat share with a bunch of strangers when they could just live with him and Abdirak, of course - and they had spare rooms - don’t be fools.
Of course, this had been before Klaus had realised that also, Donnick got paid an absolute pittance for his work at the Shelter, and the less said about Geraldus’ meagre paychecks the better.
It was a little mad that Geraldus had actually been making more as a waiter than he did now, working as a ranger at the Harper’s Grove.
Klaus had ended up paying the lion's share of the rent. He still did, even though he knew for a fact that Abdirak made significantly more than he did, and for far fewer hours of work. Benefits of his niche skill set, Klaus supposed.
Kar’niss set about removing some glasses from the washer and stacking them back on the shelves below the bar.
Klaus needed to go and get ready, really - they’d be opening doors not that long from now - although Viola still hadn’t shown up to help Kar’niss and so really it was totally justified to stay there by the bar and help him a little longer, right? He was brand new, after all.
He stepped in beside him, helping decant the glasses too, and felt Kar’niss’ eyes on him again - another shy glance, quickly cast away.
Klaus found himself smiling, just a little as he caught him looking, and wondered, hoped, that maybe Kar’niss’ gaze kept drawing to him for a reason.
Or you know, he’s new, you’re showing him around and there’s nobody else here, Klaus reminded himself, don’t be so full of yourself, kid.
Except Kar’niss cleared his throat a little, and spoke again - another question, unprompted, to make conversation.
“Ss-so, you - you work on the bar, too?” He asked, as he aligned a few more of the glasses.
Klaus shrugged. Not as straightforward a question as it sounded, that one.
“I mean, sometimes,” he said, “I’m not technically bar staff, though.”
Kar’niss gave him a curious look, and Klaus gave him a sheepish smile in return.
“I’m a bit of an ‘all-rounder’” he said, and then gestured to his chest, to an imaginary badge there, “Klaus: dancer, doorman, floor manager, administrator, accountant, design - promotions - sometimes - cleaner, bar staff when we need extra hands - uh…”
There were probably more duties he could list off there - he hadn’t forgotten the time Lucretious had stretched his job description to include ‘get my dry cleaning, Klaus’ - but he didn’t want to sound like this was a boast.
Kar’niss smiled - a small - shy sort of smile, amused - and Klaus found his impulse to do and say more stupid things bubbling up immediately at the prospect of seeing more of it.
It was a good smile, the little notch of the scar across his lips making the curve of it just a little lopsided, and Klaus found himself noticing that Kar’niss also had a little smattering of faint freckles on his cheek.
“Jack of all trades,” Kar’niss supplied, his tone almost - almost - a little jovial. He was warming up a bit.
“Master of none,” Klaus finished the adage, “dancing’s what I was hired for, technically, but I guess I’m more of a sort of…”
He tried to find the word to suit it.
“Ringmaster,” he replied, gesturing to the large, unlit sign behind them that spelled out the word CIRCUS in block capitals.
Kar’niss’ eyes trailed to follow, and the little smile grew.
“Ringmaster, mm?” he said, and his eyes flitted up to Klaus’ face again, “so if I need some help later…”
Klaus felt that clench in his chest again as their eyes met, and Kar’niss held his gaze this time, tentatively, not looking away.
“I’ll be here,” Klaus replied, smiling back, “ready to jump into the ring.”
Klaus glanced up at the clock behind his shoulder, and then shot him another quick flash of a smile.
“I gotta get dressed,” he said, “Viola should be here any minute now so…”
Kar’niss nodded, straightening a little and bracing himself - a small inhale, like he was preparing.
Klaus wondered how many jobs he’d had since he’d -
He cut the thought short before it even fully formed, and pushed it aside. He didn’t need to know that, or wonder that.
So, instead, he just gave him a last little salute, and reached back over the bar to scoop up his bag where he’d left it on the barstool, before he stepped past him, heading for the back office.
Klaus quickly shucked free of his clothes, flinging them into a messy pile over the office chair - a threadbare sort of thing he suspected Lu had stolen from a real office block at some point, and pulled his work clothes out of the bag. ‘Clothes’ was possibly a bit generous a term for what amounted to little more than some high cut briefs, some leg wraps and a vinyl, iridescent cover piece, but - well -
Klaus hastily changed, thinking, the entire time - really every minute of it - about the man standing behind the bar on the other side of the door.
A totally ridiculous thing, this whole day so far - from the moment Kar’niss had straightened up behind the counter Klaus hadn’t particularly stopped thinking about him.
Instead of wondering about his past, he wondered if he was single.
He wondered when he’d last been asked out on a date.
He wondered if he’d like to go to the carnival by the river and see what the city looked like from the top of the ferris wheel.
He wondered if he'd smile just as shyly if he asked if he could kiss him.
He was wondering all of this, and more, as he shoved his shirt and jeans back into his bag and chucked it into the locker, and threw another line of glittery kohl onto his eyelids, before he hurried back out of the office.
In the time between, Viola had indeed, finally arrived - and greeted him as he approached with a casual sort of wave. Their barmaid’s hair was freshly dyed, with a few smudges of pink around her ears where she’d barely bothered to clean up as she went - her makeup big and glittering and slapped on at haste.
He wondered if she’d gotten ready in the last hour or so, and was a little envious she’d managed to still look that good.
“Klaus,” she nodded, “sorry I’m late - the trains were….” she trailed off, not really bothering to even finish her excuse.
Klaus shrugged, stepping past her and trying not to look at Kar’niss, who was stood by the bar, trying not to look at him too, eyes fixed rather firmly on the countertop, his cheeks filling up with that small blush again.
Klaus felt his stomach lilt a little in place.
“Ready for a student night?” He said.
Viola gave him a small frown.
“Student night? The flyers said it was Pitchers and Prowling, tonight?”
What? Klaus thought, well that’s bad news.
–
“He's called Niss,” Klaus explained as he replaced the lids on a few containers - they were going to be eating this for days, “Kar'niss.”
Geraldus was gathering up the plates, their dish martyr bracing himself with a brave, enthusiastic smile as he piled them up into a mighty stack and turned, carrying them to the sink.
Donnick, meanwhile, was making a few adjustments to the little erasable whiteboard they usually kept on the fridge, which hosted the Soup Scale.
“Did we lose some points?” Klaus asked, watching as Donnick wiped away a few numbers and made some adjustments.
“We teetered from ‘silken’ to ‘congealed’ in the eggdrop,” he said, tone ever serious, “they must have switched recipes.”
“Shoot,” Klaus said, smiling teasingly, “I told someone this was the best takeaway in the city tonight - don’t make me a liar.”
“It’s not,” Donnick replied, leaning back on his chair with characteristic poise and returning the Soup Scale to the fridge, “and also ‘someone’? By which you mean Niss?”
Klaus raked his hair back with his fingers.
“I’m already talking about him too much,” he said.
“So - he's tall,” Donnick summarised the tale so far, “he's got a bunch of tattoos, and he's all sad eyes and tragic backstory?”
Klaus rolled his eyes. Ok, not an inaccurate summary, but typically blunt of Donnick to boil it down like that.
“He sounds nice,” Geraldus supplied as he turned on the tap and rolled up his sleeves.
“I mean,” Donnick turned to him a moment, raising a brow and adding with no small amount of teasing, “I'm shocked you approve of the sound of this guy. How is your relationship with ‘He Who Was’ going, anyway?”
Geraldus looked back over his shoulder with a little grumpy glare, which was not something he pulled off particularly well.
“It's not a relationship, and he's got a name,” he replied, tone clipping but polite, “and it's going fine, thank you very much, and stop interrupting Klaus, Donny.”
Donnick smiled, turning to Klaus and sharing a knowing look.
The subject of Geraldus’ definitely not a relationship, and definitely not a rebound, and definitely nothing serious thing he had going on with his gothy former ‘drug dealer’ - a long story in and of itself - was a increasing source of needling from Donnick, mostly because of the many layers of denial Geraldus seemed to be in.
Klaus returned the little conspiratorial smile, and Donnick gestured for him to continue.
“Go on then,” he said, “so how did his first Pitchers and Prowling go then? I'm guessing he didn't immediately quit like .. uh..”
“Norris,” Klaus supplied, remembering the unceremonious exit of the man who’d insisted on being called ‘Dribbles’, “and Norris didn't quit so much as he had a melt down, threw a pitcher of mai tai over Lucretious’ head and got fired, but no… it was almost as busy as that night, though.”
–
Klaus sprung over to the bar - for the first time since open - not heaving, and let himself sag against it for a moment.
He wasn’t sure what act of god had provided this momentary respite from the relentless tirade that was Pitchers and Prowling, but he wasn’t going to miss his opportunity to take a break.
That, and having spent the whole night so far failing entirely to come up with excuses to get back to the bar and check in on Kar’niss, he’d all but sprinted over when he saw his chance.
For his part, the barman looked … surprisingly alright; a little frazzled, perhaps, his loose bun rather unravelled now, tufts of pale curls sticking out, and a little sweat on his brow, too, but he didn’t look ready to throw the towel in and leave just yet, at least.
Viola had, predictably, disappeared the moment things had quietened down even a little - it was just Kar’niss behind the bar at this moment, and he turned, smiling at him a little.
As he turned Klaus realised that in his hand he had a brimming pint glass of water, which he placed on the bar in front of him.
“Here,” Kar'niss gestured for him to take it, and Klaus grinned, snatching it up gratefully.
He threw it back a bit too hastily - his throat almost straining - water absolutely dripping across his chest but he truly didn’t care - he hadn’t had a sip of anything in about 4 hours at this point, and he hadn’t stopped moving much either.
Pitchers and Prowling, he thought, ruefully, the worst event on their stupid little events calendar.
Whoever thought it was a good idea to have a night with an active theme of sexy wild cats - (see, implied - cougars) with horrendous, elaborate and overly discounted cocktail pitchers, a combination that practically screamed ‘overwhelm us, hen parties!’ if there ever was one.
Moving it to a Tuesday didn’t seem to have done much to dissuade them.
“You holding up ok?” He asked, as he wiped at his mouth with his wrist a little, noticing the barman noticing the droplets of water on his chin.
Ka’niss frowned at him, and Klaus realised he hadn’t heard him - it was too loud, probably, so, he placed the glass down on the counter and instead, clambering quickly on a stool for height, leant across the bar so he could talk a little closer.
“You’re doing ok?” He asked again, from his new closer vantage point, now a bit closer to Kar’niss’ standing height, “sorry, I know it’s super loud here - you get used to it -”
Kar’niss gave a small smile at that, and tilting his head to the right, gestured to a detail that Klaus had missed so far - but could see a bit more clearly now they were a little more level.
A small plastic hearing aid, tucked behind his ear. Klaus felt a little silly for missing it, and winced.
“It’s certainly loud,” Kar’niss agreed, that small smile turning just a little teasing, “...but it’s… it is always this busy?”
“On a Tuesday?” Klaus asked, and shook his head, “no, but, Pitchers and Prowling isn’t usually on a Tuesday…”
Kar’niss nodded a little, a small expression of grim understanding crossing his features, and Klaus was very aware that now he was perched up on the bar, he was really very close to him - less than an arms length away, really, and even in this place that stank of alcohol and sugar and people, he could smell fresh soap and a little sweat, and that was what Kar’niss smelt like.
He was looking at him slightly strangely, his eyes having kept rather studiously on his face until now, but finally, drifting just a little down - to his outfit, and then, as soon as they’d been allowed to rove that little distance down, torn quickly back to his face.
“I… I saw your dancing,” he started, voice coming out a little quiet, stuttering.
Klaus allowed himself a grin - he thought he’d caught him - at least, he’d felt eyes on him from this direction, whilst he’d been doing his usual routine on the cages.
How proud his instructors would be of him now - all those years of acrobatics and this is where he’d ended up, hanging from a rickety cage in a nightclub, being gawped at by hen parties. At least it was practice.
He’d wanted to glance over to the bar to know for sure, but, it had been so busy …
“I’m not terrible at it,” Klaus replied, “at least I try not to be.”
Kar’niss’ shy, flitting gaze was focused on the bar, fiddling now with a few things behind the countertop to occupy his fingers - he was definitely a fidgety sort, Klaus thought - or he was just finding reasons to distract himself at this moment.
“Master of none,” he repeated his earlier words, “you lied.”
“Master of one,” Klaus countered, “and ‘master’ is strong, but…”
Kar’niss’ eyes met his again for a moment.
“Did you …” Klaus started, knowing this particular sentence wasn’t going anywhere other than a bit of bold flirtation, but he was surely not imagining it - was he? The interest he was being shown in return?
“... like it?” He asked.
Kar’niss held his gaze; lips parting, unsure, but -
“Hey-” a voice interrupted, and Klaus was pulled from his stupor, “a pitcher of the margs an’ a guinness - and 12 sambucas, and a vodka -” a girl with dark hair scraped up into a high ponytail was at the bar, listing off her order with the slightest slur, and Klaus blinked at her a moment.
How had he not even noticed her?
The girl in question paused her listing for a moment, her eyes landing now, rather obviously, on Klaus’ ass - which he was now acutely aware was very much in the air, because he was perched on a stool - so it was sort of at her eye level.
“Damn,” she said, stopping her order mid-sentence, and her hand sprung up, and landed directly on his ass before her could move out the way or stop her - not really groping so much as just placed on it - as she made a little sound like surprise, “oh, man.”
Kar’niss cleared his throat, loudly, almost a hiss, and barked up over the noise of the bar, “a vodka and?”
“Right,” the girl turned, retracting her hand, quickly, “and also a bottle of prosecco and three glasses and a pitcher of - wait did I list the pitcher already?”
“You did,” Klaus supplied, shooting Kar’niss a quick, grateful smile, and then, just as quick, moved to clamber the rest of the way over the bar to clear it and land beside Kar’niss, “how many glasses with the pitcher?”
They swiftly set about lining up her order, Klaus ducking around Kar’niss to grab the pitcher and set about mixing up the margarita - leaving the barman to handle the rest as he worked on the more fiddly, annoying element - quicker this way.
I’ll bet Viola tries to call this a smoke break, he thought, realising she’d been gone for quite a while now.
He watched as the girl stacked the various bits of her order up onto a loaded tray and winced as she steadied herself, sliding it off the bartop, every bit of it wobbling.
Well, she’d already paid for it, Klaus thought, as he watched her totter away - it would still be paid for when it ended up all over the floor for Fred to clean up later.
Kar’niss let out a small sigh, wiping down the bartop behind her, and glancing over at Klaus a moment.
“Thanks,” he said.
Klaus shrugged his shoulders.
“Ready to step into the ring,” he said, with a smile, “like I said.”
Kar’niss gave him a quick look, another expression on his face, slightly more troubled.
“Does… that happen a lot?”
He meant the uninvited touch, Klaus assumed.
“Sometimes,” he said, “especially at Pichers and Prowling, thanks for…” he searched for a good word, “taming that one, a bit.”
Kar’niss shifted a little in place, that troubled frown lingering.
“They shouldn’t do that,” he said.
Klaus smiled at him reassuringly. He’d wanted to tell him it didn’t happen much, but that would be a lie. It had already happened several times just that night.
“Hard to stop them,” he said, and he gestured a little to his outfit, “I guess it kinda … they see a dancer, you know..”
I’m sort of expected to deal with that kind of thing, he thought of saying, but somehow saying that felt like it might make the wrong impression, so he didn’t say it, just kept quiet a moment.
“Does it get worse than that?” Kar’niss asked.
Klaus tried to shoot him a reassuring smile at that, too, but knew as he was doing it that it hadn’t really come out right.
“Sometimes,” he said, instead.
Kar’niss shifted in place.
“It shouldn’t,” he repeated.
Klaus felt that fluttering, unstoppable clenching in his chest all over again, noticing the seriousness of Kar’niss expression as he looked at him, now, something a little sharper, and harder, there on his face.
“If… I can…” he was hesitating, “if you need someone to…”
“Tame some lions?” Klaus supplied.
Kar’niss’ expression cracked a little, a small smile breaking through.
“I guess,” he said, sounding a little embarrassed, with it put like that, but it had lifted his mood, at least.
Klaus smiled. Kar’niss returned it, just a moment - and a moment was all they had - before Klaus looked up, and saw the gaggle approaching - their brightly coloured sashes and crowns proclaiming ‘Her Majesty’ and her court spelling more than a little trouble incoming.
And Viola’s still on her break, Klaus thought. He looked up to Kar’niss again, and saw him steeling himself.
“Ready for some more?”
–
Outside the club, as the final stragglers were piling into taxis and wobbling home, Klaus took in a deep, much needed breath of cold air.
Well, they’d survived, and hey, nobody had even quit this time.
“Made it through your first shift intact, that’s a good start,” he said, looking up at Kar’niss, who was pulling on his coat.
“Mostly,” Kar’niss replied.
Lucretious never had made it back.
Here in the night air, under the streetlamps, his pale hair catching the light in a way that made him look almost like he was the one illuminating, Klaus found himself staring at Kar’niss all over again, and concluded he was exhausted, and they both needed to go home already.
Klaus pulled up his phone, checking the route.
“Ugh,” he sighed, seeing the angry red crosses on all the subway lines - going home was going to be its own fun sort of challenge, a perfect capper to this sort of night, “I’m gonna end up getting the night bus.”
Kar’niss gave him a small grimace, hands tucked into his jeans.
“You’ll be ok,” Klaus asked quickly, “getting back?”
A roundabout way of asking where he lived, roughly, and also if there was a chance they could maybe not part ways quite yet.
Kar’niss nodded.
“I can walk,” he said.
No, then, Klaus thought, and schooled his disappointment a little at that. Probably a good thing - they’d only met about 8 hours ago - better to just go home and get a grip then try and walk him home or something.
“Will you be ok?” Kar’niss asked, breaking the small moment of silence that had fallen between them, and Klaus felt himself quietly pleased that Kar’niss had not been particularly keen to say goodbye just yet either.
“Yeah,” Klaus smiled up at him, “the bus is awful but it drops me by the best chinese takeaway in the city so … I guess my housemates are getting treated tonight, huh?”
Kar’niss smiled at him - that small, shy smile again.
Klaus resisted the urge, loud and screaming in his head, to ask him if he wanted to join.
8 hours ago, Klaus.
Klaus hovered for a moment there, and as Kar’niss was lingering too, Klaus made a quick decision.
He fished into his pocket, pulling out one of the many cards he’d tucked away into it through the years from enthusiastic talent scouts and entrepreneurs and turned it over. Then he pulled the red kohl pen he’d tucked into his pocket and used it to quickly scribble down his number onto the card. Much less rude and presumptuous than demanding his phone or something.
“So - you know, here's my number in case something comes up you need to ask about or,” he stopped himself short of saying something outright flirtatious again, “anything.”
Kar’niss took the card from him, that small, shy smile lingering. He nodded.
“Get home safe,” he said, and then added, “stay in the light.”
Klaus nodded. A good mantra.
He lingered just a second longer, holding Kar’niss’ gaze, watching the small smile grow, before he made himself move. A little nod in return, and a wave, and then he turned and headed for the bus stop.
–
Kar’niss pushed open the door - a little extra force to push it past the point where it scratched against the floor from where the wood was a little swollen by damp.
He took in a breath, as he considered the dark room in front of him, and reached for the lightswitch.
He closed the door behind himself and stepped in, kicking off his shoes as he went next to the empty shoe rack, and slipped off his jacket, throwing it over the hook by the door.
The flat looked exactly as he’d left it.
Small - empty - silent.
His stomach was painfully empty, so he stepped over to the fridge. There wasn’t much in it; he’d not really known what to get, in truth. He reached for one of the bottled, pre-mixed milkshakes, and unscrewed the lid.
As he sat by the counter, listening to the sound of a passing siren, and felt the pleasant stinging of his feet from a long day's work, he thought about Klaus.
He’d tried to learn all of their names - he had - but most of them had fallen out of his head by now. In the end he only remembered one.
His left ear was ringing; still echoing from the clamour of the club, and he thought about Klaus.
He thought about his big smile - bright like a lamp - and his eyes working over his face, like he -
Kar’niss took in a breath. Looked around the small, empty space, filled with all the next to nothing he had, and exhaled.
Then he fished the card out of his pocket, and his phone out of the other.
He typed in the number and saved it, then took another inhale, steadying the immediate trills of anxiety, and the flurry of whispering doubts in his skull.
What are you doing? Don’t - foolish- it’s not - and you’re -
It was too much to message him, and usually those doubting voices would win, but he was too exhausted, and his body was ringing still with the adrenaline of a long, busy night.
So, he found himself typing anyway.
‘Thanks for showing me the ropes, ringmaster.’
Then, he added, ‘hope the night bus wasn't too crazy?’
He didn’t need to make that a question, to initiate conversation, really. But he wanted to. And writing was easier than talking most of the time.
He put the phone down, not expecting a response, and drained the rest of the small bottle.
He really needed some actual food, his stomach was rumbling. Gnawing it was so hollow.
His phone buzzed, and he turned it over - a message - very speedily, in response, from Klaus.
‘No problem, lion tamer,’ it said, ‘just the normal sort of crazy. Only one fight to the death.’
A little smile crept onto his lips, seeing the dots under the message - Klaus was still typing.
‘Reward was worth it,’ the message came, along with a picture of a huge amount of Chinese food.
Kar'niss moved over to the futon on the floor - he didn't have anywhere else to sit, yet, and rested back against the wall, trying to think of something interesting to say back so the conversation didn't end there.
‘Reward? You hardly got anything,’ he replied.
Klaus’s response came back almost immediately.
‘Ha’ it said, ‘sorry - should have got more or I could offer to save you some…’
He started typing. Paused. Then started again.
‘I'll get you coffee instead,’ it said, ‘what’s your order?’
Kar'niss’ smile grew.
–
Klaus let his chin rest against the counter, staring at his screen as he watched Kar'niss type his response, grinning like an idiot.
‘Plain black coffee,’ it said, ‘exciting.’
Klaus felt his stomach twisting up, positively full of knots.
‘you've got it,’ he replied, ‘get ready to be thrilled.’
A little moment, and a short response.
‘I'll brace myself’.
Funny. He's cute and shy and funny, fuck, Klaus let out a little sigh.
“Ok you look like you swallowed a coat hanger,” Donnick said, pulling out knots in his hair with his fingers, as Geraldus finished the last of the dishes behind them, singing quietly to himself.
“He messaged me,” Klaus said, “Niss.”
Donnick raised a brow.
“Like a ‘hey I don't have keys yet’ message or …?”
Klaus knew he couldn't stop smiling. He shook his head. Not an ‘I don’t have keys yet’ message.
“Yeah. I’m in trouble, Donny,” he said, “he's …”
He gave up and just sighed.
Donnick gave him a scrutinising look.
“By this time next week you'll be dating,” he said, raising a finger, “mark my words. I’m never wrong.”