Dorian sighed and looked out of the window at the sights of New Brunswick. Even blurred by the motion of the train, it was beautiful for sure, as the Canadians would say. He just wished he could enjoy it.
When Klaus had agreed to join him on this trip, he was overjoyed. Finally the two of them could spend some time together off the clock, as it were. As much as he enjoyed the times their paths intersected accidentally or when they agreed to work together, it was high time they had more than a few snatched moments alone together.
Dorian hadn't told his men why he had gone off on this trip. That was one of Klaus's conditions. James had cried and assumed he was meeting some hunky Mountie or a charming snowboarding instructor. Dorian had hugged him and promised to bring back the most reasonably priced bottle of maple syrup.
He was lying alone on his bed on the sleeper train to Sainte-Foy, Quebec. The sun had not yet set, but he had told Klaus he was going to lie down. Klaus had merely acknowledged this with a nod. In hindsight, his tone said "leave me alone" rather than "join me".
He grabbed a pillow and covered his head with it. How had this gone so wrong? He recalled last night's dinner overlooking the harbour in Halifax, Nova Scotia. It was sunset, and the golden light glittered over the water. The food was exquisite, the finest freshly caught seafood paired with local wines. Perfect.
Except for the fact Klaus was already not speaking to him. He had been pushed to get more than a grunt out of him since he grabbed hold of his arm and kissed him on the cheek during a sightseeing tour of Peggy's Cove earlier in the day. An older couple had looked at each other and smiled at them. Klaus shrugged him off and walked off into the tour group without a backward glance.
Back at dinner in Halifax, Dorian looked at Klaus, who was staring intently down at his wine glass. He said his name, and Klaus met his eyes for the first time since they had sat down. Dorian reached across the table and touched his hand. Klaus moved his hand from his glass onto the table almost letting Dorian hold it, but quickly withdrew it when the waiter arrived with dessert.
Dorian rolled onto his back and looked up at the underside of the bunk above. What had he done wrong? He was wondering if he had been wrong to invite Klaus on this trip in the first place. But if he didn't want to come with him, then why hadn't he refused? He could have yelled at him and called him an idiot for the mere suggestion, as he had for many of his other suggestions over the years.
Sighing and putting an arm over his eyes, he resigned himself to a day of feeling sorry for himself. Perhaps he should have know better than hope for so much from Klaus. After all, the German had resisted his advances for years, only showing the barest hints of interest in him. Had he really believed they would frolic around Canada hand in hand? He grimaced. Of course not. But the memory of how Klaus had rescued him and took care of him resurfaced in his mind. And the way he had held his hand on the plane that time. They had not flown together this time, but met at Halifax International Airport. He played it cool and casual for, well, most of the first day. Maybe that was his mistake, maybe he should have waited for Klaus to make the first move.
He curled up and faced the wall. Just as he was drifting off into a nap, he heard the cabin door open and shut. A strong smell of alcohol filled the room. So that was what Klaus had been doing.
Dorian felt the mattress shift as Klaus sat down on his bunk. There was a crack. "Autsch! Scheisse!" Klaus must have hit his head on the bunk above. Dorian didn't move. He had been hoping Klaus would come back to the room, but now that he had he didn't know what to say to him.
The scent of cigarette smoke filled the room. "I'm sorry," Klaus said softly. "I'm sorry Dorian."
Dorian considered if he should stop pretending to sleep. The simple apology warmed his heart and he wanted to wrap his arms around Klaus despite how his actions today had hurt him. But he wondered if he had anything more to say to him while he thought he wasn't awake.
He was waiting for a while. If Klaus tried to leave the room, he was ready to spring into action and stop him, but for now he lay still.
"Oh, ich liebe dich." It was such a faint whisper that Dorian wondered if he had imagined it. His heart leapt. Even though he had been drinking and didn't say it to his face, it felt so wonderful to hear. He held onto that feeling, reluctant to do anything to ruin the moment.
Then suddenly it felt like his hair was being pulled out of his head. He screamed.
"Sorry! Sorry!" Klaus cried.
Dorian rolled over and looked at Klaus, who had fallen off the bed and was now sitting on the floor.
"What was that for?" Dorian demanded, rubbing his head.
"I dropped my cigarettes. Your hair was in the way."
Dorian fumbled around and found the packet, then threw it at Klaus.
"You're drunk. Did you have fun without me?" Dorian said, sharper than he intended.
"No," Klaus said, moving to a cross-legged position on the floor. "A Canadian woman talked to me about her family for two whole hours! I kept moving carriages but she followed me!"
Dorian couldn't help but laugh. "She must have been charmed by the handsome German man travelling alone."
Klaus gave him a sharp look. "I don't think so. I now know her husband's life story. She made him out to be some sort of mythical hero."
"How lovely. I hope one day someone will talk about me that way," Dorian said, rolling over to look at Klaus and propping himself up on one arm. "Did you tell her about me?"
"I couldn't," Klaus said, looking deadly serious. "She wouldn't let me get a word in."
Klaus lit another cigarette and looked out of the window.
Dorian couldn't contain himself any longer. "I have to confess, I wasn't sleeping. I heard what you said."
Klaus almost dropped his cigarette.
"Apology accepted," Dorian said.
Klaus looked visibly less tense, but said nothing.
"Was I too much yesterday? Do you want me to back off?" It broke his heart to say those words, but he only wanted Klaus to be with him if that was what he wanted too. He hid his feelings with a laugh. "I will promise to stay at least an arm's length away from you for the rest of the holiday if you like."
Klaus didn't look at him, but gave an almost imperceptible head shake.
Dorian stretched out his hand towards him. "Come over here," he said.
Klaus stood up and went to the window. He opened it and threw out his barely-smoked cigarette. Then he knelt down and rested his crossed arms on the bed. Dorian smiled and moved a little closer to him. His breath was quick and shallow, and smelled of alcohol and cigarettes. Dorian reached out to put a hand on the back of Klaus's head, guiding him towards him and preventing him from banging his head again.
Klaus's lips were warm and dry against his, pressing against his own passionately but inexpertly. Dorian had no doubt that the German had had many admirers in his life. He wondered if he had rejected all of them.
When they parted, Klaus had his forearms resting on the bed on either side of Dorian's head. Klaus still looked serious, but also flushed. Dorian smiled. Klaus didn't return the smile. In fact he looked deeply uncomfortable, as if he was not sure what was supposed to happen next.
Dorian reached out and touched his face, leaning in for another kiss. Klaus kissed him back.
When they parted this time, Dorian giggled from the thrill of finally sharing a proper kiss with Klaus. Klaus seemed unnerved by this and broke eye contact.
"Our first kiss was on a train," Dorian said.
"Yes. You tricked me."
Dorian giggled again. "I didn't mean to!" he protested.
Klaus gave him a look.
"Are you glad that I did?" Dorian said, twirling a curl around his finger.
Klaus appeared to consider the question for a while.
They were interrupted by a blood curdling scream.
Klaus banged his head again, and sprang to his feet.
There was a thundering of footfalls coming towards their carriage. And as Dorian got up, a hammering at their door.
"What the hell is going on out there?" Klaus shouted as he wrenched the door open.
"There 'as been a moider!" cried a woman dressed like a 1940s femme fatale. She mopped her brow with a handkerchief and promptly fell over.
Klaus grabbed his gun and holster from his bag, and strapped it on as he stepped over the fainted woman. Dorian helped the woman to a sitting position, and she urged him to follow Klaus.
They made their way through several carriages, until they found a crowd gathered in one. Klaus pushed his way through the people. There was a man slumped in a seat, covered in something red.
"This isn't a real murder!" Klaus announced.
Everyone turned to look at him.
As always, thank you for reading. I was going to leave this as a surprise, but this one is probably going to have several chapters :)