Author: pretense PM
Nobody wants a sob-story; especially not gods that look like cowboys. Klaus/Ben Post-Dallas.Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance - Chapters: 9 - Words: 16,740 - Reviews: 14 - Favs: 6 - Follows: 4 - Updated: 06-04-11 - Published: 03-05-11 - Status: Complete - id: 6798116
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Disclaimer: The Umbrella Academy and all its characters used in this fanfiction are copyright of Gerard Way, Dark Horse Comics, etc. I am not making any profit out of this.
Summary: Nobody wants a sob-story; especially not gods that look like cowboys.
A/N: It's been fun y'all…
Chapter Nine : And stay off the drugs
Klaus' skin was unbelievably cool under his hands, spindly fingers trembling as they explored long-lost-territory but his grip was possessive. His pulse was racing as their breaths mingled and the kiss turned fierce – Klaus' hands had traveled to his waist and were worming their way into his shirt. A groan escaped him at the intrusion; his arms were draped around the older man's shoulders, one hand tangled in with the auburn locks of hair.
Klaus smirked, pulling the journalist flush against him, black-tipped fingers mapping the lean body. One hand settled atop the man's racing heart, palm resting flat against the heaving chest. Their movements slowed and the psychic pulled back an inch, black-lined eyes fluttering open to find Ken dazedly staring back at him. "…Ben?"
"I'm so, so sorry, Klaus," jet-black eyes were suddenly filled with tears as Ken leaned up, giving him a quick kiss. "I didn't want to tell you – I didn't know how to tell you… When you died that time, I felt it and I was so scared when that cowboy, I mean God, didn't bring you with him. And then he said that I wasn't finished with business down here yet so he sent me back and I was reborn as your son when you traveled back in time and all I've ever wanted was to come back here so I could do what I wasn't able to when I was Ben but I couldn't because I was just two-years-old thinking about that! So I had to grow up and go through puberty and college – it just took so long that when I got here, Ben had died and you checked yourself into Shinyview and I couldn't do anything but wait! And then Dad kicked the bucket and you guys all returned to the Academy and you saved the world again which made you some instant celebrity and it was so much harder for me to get closer to you… But then I met you at the bar a few days ago and I knew that it was my chance and I didn't want to let go – I couldn't screw up this time because that cowboy said you were getting worse and I wanted to do a better job of getting you off the drugs because last time I failed… last time I couldn't… last time I died and I left you and I couldn't be there when you were at your worst but now I'm here and you're here and… oh Klaus, please listen to me this time…"
A Ken struggled to catch his breath, the palm over his heart slid down and wrapped around his waist. Feeling weak, the dark-haired man melted into the embrace, resting his forehead on his arm against the Séance's shoulder.
"You know something, Ben?" Klaus murmured against his ear, leaning lightly against the dark mop of hair.
"What?" Ken asked in a small voice, hands locked tighter around the medium's shoulder.
"That was a total mood killer."
Ken would've groaned in frustration but a bigger part of him rather agreed. "Sorry…"
Klaus jolted away at the sound of the alarm clock, it was a quarter to six and Ken – Ben – was curled up beside him. The auburn-haired psychic hit the snooze button and carefully slid out of the warm bed, cold artificial air greeting his bare skin. Ben snuggled closer to the empty space, burrowing into the pillow that held Klaus' scent. The Séance smiled, levitating his pants and undershirt towards himself. The room was dimly lit, nothing but the moonlight peeking from the curtains. In spite of this, the medium dressed up and slipped into the kitchen. He switched on the lights, sending white fluorescent light spilling into the adjoined bedroom.
Sitting on the edge of the table, Klaus poured water into the kettle and set it onto the stove to heat. He opened the cupboards, searching and eventually finding the pair of mugs they'd used before. Once the mugs were beside him, muddy brown eyes refocused on the sleeping man. The divider between the two areas was low, barely reaching his waist if he stood up, and he could get a good view of the dark-haired journalist stirring up under the covers. Typical Ben, waking up once he's got nothing to cuddle anymore.
The Séance turned his posture to face that waking man. The Vietnamese first moved his hand, groping around and upon finding no body, he opened his eyes and blearily looked around.
"Klaus?" Ben croaked, mind still groggy, squinted eyes peering towards the bright kitchen area.
"Kitchen, Ben," Klaus answered in a raised voice.
"Oh, okay…" and Ben fell back into the pillows, pulling the covers around his bare shoulders. There was silence for about three seconds before the younger man sat up in alarm, exclaiming, "What are you doing in the kitchen?"
Klaus merely grinned as the other man gathered blankets around himself and went around his bedroom scrounging for his clothes and putting them on modestly. Klaus had to roll his eyes at the redundancy of it all – they fucking slept together naked.
Ben entered the kitchen in his wrinkled shirt and jeans, one hand rubbing away the sleep in his eyes. "Since when did you start making coffee for yourself?"
Klaus only shrugged, leaning back on his hands as the journalist approached him. To his surprise, Ben didn't head for the stools, instead, the smaller man stopped between his legs, put his arms around his waist and laid his head against his chest.
Ben closes his eyes, the sound of the Séance's steady heartbeat comforted him, feeling the man's solid figure assured him that last night wasn't a hallucination. A hand settled atop his head and Ben sighed, smiling.
"This is just an excuse so you don't have to sit down, isn't it?" Klaus joked, carding through the jet-black locks.
"Mm, partly that," Ben grinned, looking up through his messy bangs towards Klaus.
"This is some pretty weird shit we're in right now, isn't it?" Klaus said, brushing away the dark bangs so he could see the other man's face more clearly. "First of all, I don't even know what to call you… Ken or Ben?"
"Ben is dead, Klaus," the young journalist replies, repressing the sadness in his tone, "Physically, at least. And even if my soul's the same – this is a whole new person, a whole new life that I'm in right now. I'm Cham Ken now, it's my identity… it'll be a lot less confusing if you refer to me by that name alone…"
Klaus pouted, the black color on his lips no faded. "So you want to stick to being my son?" That's okay I guess – you know I've always wanted to call my kid Junior?"
"Junior?" Ken raised a brow. "You want to name a kid, Klaus Junior?"
"Course I do, but then Vietnam has its own naming system and shit and your mom wanted to stick to that. So now you know why your name is Ken and not the awesome Klaus Junior!" the Séance finished with an arrogant smirk.
"Yeah, okay, whatever you say," Ken conceded, smiling lightly. "So what do you want for breakfast?"
"You're gonna cook? I thought you just bought stuff?"
"That's what I do when I need to get to the office early," Ken explained, detaching himself from Klaus and standing properly. "But on Sundays I work the afternoon shift so I have plenty of time to cook breakfast for myself…"
Just then the kettle started whistling and Klaus ruffled Ken's hair once before floating over to the stove. The younger man smiled and made his way to the fridge, checking the contents.
"There's ham, pizza rolls, eggs, sausages…" Ken dug inside his refrigerator.
"What's the grocery roll call for?" Klaus asked, telepathically stirring two mugs of coffee.
"Pick your breakfast," the dark-haired man faced the psychic, one hand on his hips.
"I don't have a turkey. Why do you even want to eat a turkey for breakfast?"
Klaus shrugged. "Just thought I'd ask…"
"Fine, I hope you like omelets."
Ken proceeded to pull out a tray of eggs, a pack of sliced ham and the cheese. He placed the items on the kitchen counter before squatting down to the lower cabinets to get his cooking paraphernalia.
"I could totally slice faster with telekinesis, you know," Klaus offered, hovering towards Ken with a coffee mug on each hand.
Ken merely smiled, putting down the knife as he accepted the drink. "That's okay, I can handle things… Grandma taught me a lot on cooking…"
"Cham Soccho?" Klaus asked with raised brows, setting his feet on the tiled ground and leaning back against the counter.
"Mmhm," Ken carefully sipped the scalding drink. "Oh and before I forget…" He threw a punch at Klaus' shoulder.
"What was that for?" the auburn-haired psychic asked, gripping his mug tight.
"For leaving your son to grow up in a strip club."
Klaus stared at him for a second before bursting out laughing. He had to put down his black mug in order to avoid spilling his drink as his laughter was far from subsiding.
Ken resorted to grinning and sipping his coffee, patiently waiting for Klaus to stop.
"Since when did you start cracking jokes?" Klaus queried, still chuckling.
A meek smile rose to the journalist's lips. "Just thought I'd lighten up the mood…"
Klaus' laughter died down, "Is there something wrong?"
Ken left his mug at the counter, standing in front of the older man, seeing eye to eye. "You tell me, Klaus… Give me a little more credit here, I know you and I trust my gut when it tells me that something is off…"
"Well sorry if I wasn't up to par with–"
Brown irises stared down at the jet black pair. And quietly, morosely, his lips parted to speak.
"You weren't supposed to come back."
It took him all of five seconds to process the older man's words and in the end, it wasn't the statement itself that made his blood run cold; it was the hurt in Klaus' own voice.
"You were supposed to be dead, Ben," Klaus muttered, "You were supposed to be resting in peace. You shouldn't be here at all…"
"But I am," Ken whispered, stepping forward, "I'm here for–"
"But I don't need you, god damn it," arms were crossed over the Séance's chest, watery brown eyes darting off to the side. "I've been doing so fucking fine without you… You already got your free pass to heaven, what were you thinking going back to this hell? I was so fucking sure you'd be safe from shit up there… so fucking sure…"
Biting his lip, Ken placed a hand over Klaus'. "Is that why you never contacted me?"
"Everyone wanted to know what really happened that day… Luther blamed himself, Diego blamed Luther, Allison bitched at me for not caring," Klaus gave a mirthless chuckle. "But you know I cared, right? I didn't want to haul you back here when you've finally escaped this shitty world… Who knows what that monster would do to you if he gets a hold of your soul?" The psychic basically spat the deceased Hargreeves' name.
Ken was quiet for a moment, absently rubbing his thumb against the back of Klaus' hand. "Thanks, I guess," he eventually mumbled, to which Klaus let out a stiff exhale.
"Well you just ruined everything by coming back…" He uncrossed his arms and placed his hands on his hips. "Are you nuts? Villains are sprouting up again and this time you're powerless. This time I'll be even more worried about you…"
"But you don't have anything to worry about," Ken soothed, placing both hands on Klaus' shoulders. Putting on his bravest face, he shot the taller man a smile. "It's not like I'll be tagging along to whatever superhero business guys are doing; believe me, I've learned my lesson on that ages ago. I'm not asking you to watch over me, I don't need that from you… I've got a job and a life to live but… All I ask is that you keep yourself safe."
Klaus raised a brow at him.
"I can't help but worry about you. That's why God sent me back down…"
"That's some stupid god," Klaus frowned. "He just put you in more danger!"
"He knew it would make me happy, seeing you safe – seeing my family safe is what keeps me at peace…" Ken smiled sadly, "Because contrary to what they tell you, people in heaven can't watch over their loved ones from up there…"
Klaus closed his eyes, arms dropping to his sides in defeat; Ken's hand wrapped lightly around his wrist, pulling him back to the brightly lit kitchen. "You can't expect me to just ignore you…"
"I'm a liability, Klaus. I'll distract you," dark eyes shone under the artificial lighting. "I have my own place in this world and so do you but believe me when I say that I'll still be watching you." Ken offered a smile, a genuine one this time. "I am a journalist you know. It's my job to keep watch on what's happening around here. I'll be seeing you around a lot, I suppose…"
"So that's it?" Klaus couldn't help the annoyance in his tone. "You show up and expect me to just pretend you don't exist?"
"That's not what I meant," Ken said in earnest, "All I'm saying is that you have your priorities… Like saving the world? Ring a bell to you?"
The spirit medium huffed, "You know, for someone a decade younger than me, you're kinda bossy."
A small laugh erupted from Ken. "I'm making you breakfast, I have a right to be bossy," he replied with an easy grin.
Long arms wrapped around the younger man's waist, pulling him close. Ken buried his face at the crook of Klaus' neck, arms encircling the man's midsection.
This world, my dear, is big enough without you…