The doll-house had caught both their interests, surprisingly -- Dorian for the intricate detailing and pure art put into it's building, Klaus for the mechanical aspects of it, working lights and all.

But as the day wound down into late afternoon, Klaus found himself trapped watching a cricket game with Dorian.

Looking over at the glum man beside him, Dorian gave Klaus a nudge. "Oh, come on - we won't stay for that long. Just want to watch a bit of the bowling. The boys look so nice when they throw those balls!" he said, and then laughed.

"What are we doing after this?" Klaus asked, looking over to Dorian with a pained glimmer in his eyes -- pure and utter frustration over boredom.

"Tea, of course. Or something stronger if you want it. There's a damn good pub about two blocks away. Oh! Look at that... arm!" Dorian giggled but luckily his outburst came at the same time the crowd gasped at an especially good bit of bowling.

"You're a horrible pervert, Dorian," Klaus chuckled, almost fondly at his blonde companion. "A pub would be good. After suffering through this, I could use a drink or two..."

"I see you still love to stare at the cricket boys, Silky."

Dorian turned suddenly and his eyes widened at the sight of a the man who'd just walked up beside his chair. "Chas! It's been ages. How are you?" He turned to Klaus. "This is... a friend of mine, Charles Skeffington. Chas, this is Klaus Heinz von dem Eberbach."

The man, leaning forward over Dorian, held out a hand to Klaus and fairly purred, "So very nice to meet you..." He wore an impeccably tailored suit with a subtle but fashionable tie and well-polished shoes. His hair was a golden brown color, straight and tastefully cut. His cufflinks were an understated burnished gold and over his arm was slung an expensive-looking trench coat.

A friend...? Was this Dorian's usual sort of 'friend', or was he another criminal? Nothing looked too familiar about him to fit that aspect, but Klaus was NATO and not ICPO. /The man's over-dressed for a day at a place like this,/ Klaus thought to himself. Dorian was casual as always, in a red shirt today and tight tan trousers, gold jewelry; while he himself was conservative as usual, a good off-white shirt and grey slacks. /The man must be mafia or some such./ "A... pleasure to met you, Mr. Skeffington."

"I was on my way to a function at the Castle when I saw the game and thought I'd watch for a bit. I've been over on the other side and just happened to notice you. Inevitable, I suppose. No one could miss you. You're still a jewel among coal..."

"Honey tongue," Dorian said, giving him a wry look. "Haven't changed a bit have you? Are you still living in Mayfair?"

/You should have stayed on the other side,/ Klaus growled inwardly, fixing the man with a dark gaze that would have sent every last one of his alphabets scattering, Z included. "A function at the castle?" he questioned rhetorically, accented voice playing mild havoc with the words as always. "You should go jewel hunting there."

"I believe that's Silky's department, here," the man said, laughing smoothly and giving Dorian a wink. "And yes, I *do* still live in Mayfair, in the same house. You should come and visit sometime."

There was a particular tone in his voice that made it clear Klaus was not included in the invitation.

Dorian smiled, nonplussed. "Surely you've moved on to better - and younger - things by now," he murmured.

/Silky?/ That was no friendly nickname between thieves, and it was already more than clear to Klaus that the man had at some point been one of Dorian's lovers. "I doubt that he has the time to spare for a visit to Mayfair. We have more interesting things to do."

Skeffington finally turned to Klaus, as if just seeing him there, and said, "Oh, I assure you Mr. eh... Eberbach, was it? Visits to my house are *always* quite entertaining. Eh, Silky? Remember my 25th birthday party... and after?"

Klaus stood at last, drawing himself to his full height and anger. "Leave, now. I am not a sharing man."

"It's all right, Klaus," Dorian said quickly, standing up as well. "He doesn't mean anything by it! Do you, Chas?" He gave the older man a stern look - or what passed for one from Dorian, and stepped closer to Klaus.

"Ohhh... so you're the new man in Dorian's life," Skeffington said, letting his eyes wander slowly up and down Klaus's frame. "I thought you were his body guard or something. Silky, your tastes have changed." He turned more towards Klaus and murmured, "Sorry, didn't know you had possession now..." He punctuated the remark with a very knowing smile.

A knowing smile that only made Klaus angrier. "Lord Gloria is not a piece of property to own," he snarled in a low, dangerous tone, "and I am not 'new'."

"Well, I'm not talking about 'possession' in quite that sense, though I wouldn't put Silky here past it." He winked at Dorian, who looked about to say something when Skeffington continued. "No, I meant it in a more... *intimate* sense. You certainly seem man enough to be able to pin him to the bed." The look on his face spoke of no end of amusement.

"Chas, haven't you said enough?" Dorian said, turning to him sharply.

"Nonsense," the man said, taking a silver cigarette case out of his jacket pocket and offering one to Klaus. "You and I are alike in that, aren't we?" he asked the German. "You understand, don't you, why I call him Silky..."

Klaus declined the cigarette, for one of the first times in his life, and just looked at the other man with a stunned expression. a stunned expression that was turning red even as he knew he was walking right into something worse. "No."

The look Skeffington gave Dorian was very subtle, but it dripped sexuality. "Smoothest ride I've ever had," he purred, staring the blond straight in the eye. "Felt like paradise, inside and out..."

Dorian, who blushed at nothing, was blushing now. "Chas..." he said hoarsely.

It could get worse, impossibly! Klaus gritted his teeth, face now a fiery red, "Shut up, you pervert. Don't you have any honour?"

"Honour?" the man said and chuckled. "Are you saying you aren't his lover? That you haven't been to bed?" His tone was rich and amused. "Well, then - I'm sorry I offended you, Mr. Eberbach... and I'm very sorry *for* you as well. You've missed something that's exquisitely delightful."

"Chas," Dorian said, trying to recover, "don't you have a function to go to?"

"Not for another twenty minutes," the man said, smiling smoothly. "Why don't I sit down here next to you. Mr. Eberbach and I can get to know one another better." Turning the empty chair on Dorian's right around a bit, Skeffington sat, tugging Dorian's arm and bringing the blond down to sit next to him. "Please, Mr. Eberbach, do sit down."

Klaus did sit down, but only so he didn't look like an idiot for standing. That damned man was too close to Dorian for his tastes, but he couldn't shoot him. No, not in England, with their strict gun laws, and not nice and neatly accurate with the .22 at his ankle... "I would rather not 'get to know you'."

"Well, if you *are* a friend of Dorian's, you should meet his other friends," the man said. He looked at the Earl and smiled. "Or have I overestimated the depth of your friendship? Perhaps you two are just acquaintances or business colleagues?" There was a hint of suppressed mockery in his voice.

"You don't need to know, Chas," Dorian said, holding his gaze. "It doesn't really concern you." He flicked a glance at Klaus, who was staring at his ex-lover darkly. "How is the world of finance treating you?" he asked Skeffington, trying to steer the man onto a less intimate topic of conversation.

"I've read the market in general world-wide has been falling," Klaus smiled a bit maliciously at the man.

"Yes," Skeffington agreed, "it has. Luckily I moved most of my high-risk investments just before it dropped. I'm picking up quite a few bargains right now and not losing a penny doing it." He lit a cigarette, and elegantly blew the smoke away from them, keeping his eyes on Klaus. "And what do you do for a living, Mr. Eberbach."

Dorian's gaze flickered towards him nervously. "I'm a NATO officer," Klaus said calmly. "German, Intelligence Division."

Elegant, golden brown eyebrows lifted for the briefest moment. "A cold warrior?" Skeffington said. "Going to protect us from the nasty Russians? Must be a rather... *dangerous* line of work."

"Klaus is their finest officer," Dorian said firmly. "He can handle himself in any situation." "Any... situation?" Another smile curled those aristocratic lips as Skeffington went on, "I bet he can. But there must not be but so much for you to do now that the cold war is over, hmn?"

"You would be amazed," Klaus drawled firmly.

"Oh, he's always doing something or other," Dorian said. "That's why it's so nice that he and I can spend sometime together right now... *alone.*"

If he got the hint, Skeffington didn't let on.

"But however did you meet a NATO man, Silky?" Dorian's ex-lover purred.

Dorian only missed one beat and then said airily, "One of my jaunts overseas, of course. I was visiting a museum and Klaus happened to be there, as well." Well, it was close enough, without giving too much away...

"Really? What coincidence!" Skeffington chuckled, lips curled into a smile. "How long have you known each other...? Three, four months...?"

"I met him in '78."

"Goodness!" the older man said, "That's nearly as long as I've known him." He looked over at the blond and gave him a smile. "Just a tender young thing of 17 when we met. The forbes - Hamiltons' party, wasn't it, Silky?"

"Yes," Dorian said. "At Claridges. You were very drunk, I remember."

"Wasn't I," his friend said, winking. "Pretty interesting parties in those days, before I became an old man of the banks. *Very* interesting..."

Klaus face burned worse now, brows furrowed. "Days long passed."

"Yes, but *fondly* remembered," Skeffington said, gazing at Dorian again. "Do you remember the Duke of Hensley's billiard table? Hmm?"

"No, I don't," Dorian lied, sensing Klaus's twitch next to him. "All of those parties just ran together in my memory - none of them really stands out much."

"There is much to say about a man who has to find enjoyment in his memories," Klaus snapped, face still burning red. "There are sharper memories in Dorian's mind than sex with you."

The blond's eyes went wide and he slid Klaus a glance out of the corner of his eye. "Yes, well! We don't just have to talk about me -"

"Well since it sounds like he doesn't do much with *you,* I wouldn't be surprised if those memories *are* particularly fond to him," Skeffington said in an icy cool voice. "He was never much attracted by..." he looked Klaus up and down again, "the plodding, soldierly type."

"Chas, I think it's time you should leave," Dorian said quickly.

"*Plodding*?" Klaus snapped. All right -- it had finally crossed the line between polite, aristocratic sniping, which he could tolerate -- to dirty insults. *Now* he could get away with hurting the man, and that much was obvious from the cold glint in his eyes. "Plodding? My subordinates are plodding, you stupid limey. A man does not reach my level of expertise being *plodding*."

Skeffington was nothing if not cool and collected. He only smiled and said, "All military types are plodding in my experience. It takes that kind of nature to put up with all the nonsense you have to go through in training." He blew out a long, column of smoke and said, "I don't say this arbitrarily, you know. I was in the RAF - ask Silky here. Three of the worst years of my life - everyone around me having orgasms about being in perfect formation and polishing their shoes until they shined. That's all I meant about plodding. Don't take such offense, old man. Takes all kinds..."

"I did a stint in the British Tank Corps -- your army are probably the most inefficient sods in the western world," Klaus uttered, shifting a bit in the chair to relax properly, still glaring lightly. "Being organized is a good sight better than being lazy as hell, an aristocrat with too much time on his hands."

Dorian tried to interject a comment about how late it was getting, but Skeffington was there first. "I have no idea who you might be referring to," he said, still smiling. "My work keeps me quite busy, as does the work of all my friends. Perhaps the German aristocracy is different from those of us here in England."

"Yes -- we tend to be better than just figureheads."

Dorian put a hand up but it was ignored by the two men glaring at each other on either side of him.

"I can hardly be called a figurehead," Skeffington said, "although I am head of my finance company, which turned a healthy profit last year... while you were no doubt chasing poverty-stricken Russians around the globe..."

It looked as if Klaus' jaw was going to crack if he gritted his teeth any harder. "Idiotic civilian. Profit is all you fucks can think about. You wouldn't be able to *turn* a profit if your fucking country had been swallowed by the Soviets!"

"That's *enough*!!" Dorian said loudly, startling a elderly man sitting a few chairs away. "Chas, you're going to be late for your function. I want you to leave, please. Klaus -" He turned to his lover, who seemed to be staring daggers at Skeffington. "We'll talk," he said under his breath.

"Well, it's been a pleasure," Skeffington smiled politely. "When your military man here goes off on maneuvers, Silky, *do* look me up."

Wincing inside, Dorian murmured, "Just leave, Chas," and watched the man walk gracefully away.

There was a long silence after he'd left. "I'm... *very* sorry, Klaus. His behavior was inexcusable."

"Yes, it was," Klaus agreed in an unhappy tone, the red finally starting to seep out of his high cheeks. "Let's go to that pub now."

"Right," Dorian said, quietly.

~~~

They walked off the grounds of the castle and down the street to the pub, a cozy place called the Keys and Crown. Dorian snagged a table at the back and then turned to go to the bar. "What'll you have?" he asked Klaus.

"Something hard," Klaus sighed as he sat down. "Scotch."

With prompt alacrity, Dorian was there and back again, holding a double scotch for Klaus and a gin and tonic for himself. He settled down next to the German man and murmured, "What can I do to make it better?"

"Tell me that there's a way to avoid your ex-lovers when we go out into public?" Klaus said in complete seriousness as he took a deep drink off the double scotch.

"Ah," Dorian said, "would that I could..." He looked up at Klaus and said, "I know it sounds stupid but London is really a small town, for people who travel in the same circles. That's why I have lots of places *away* from London to stay in. It's true whenever I'm in Town I do tend to... meet up with people..." He looked down into his gin and then took a long drink.

"Meet up with them how?" Klaus pressed, swirling the scotch a little before he finished it off. He didn't drink often, but when he did, he could drink hard.

"Oh, well - run into them, I mean! It's not like..." He tried to stifle a giggle, only half successfully. "I don't often return to the beds of former lovers," he finally managed to get out.

"Good. Men like that..." Klaus shuddered as he shook his head. "It's shameful to talk about a lover that way."

"What way?" Dorian asked.

"What he... said about you, that name he called you. 's rude."

"Oh, that," Dorian said, blushing again just because Klaus was there. "It was a long time ago - we were both pretty young. There was no harm in it, really."

Klaus steel green eyes went a little wider. "No harm?! Dorian, he was saying horrible things!"

"It was just about sex!" Dorian said, shrugging, then suddenly looked around them at the other people in the pub, now giving them suspicious looks. "I mean," he said much more quietly, "it wasn't really *horrible.* He wasn't insulting me."

"Yes he was!" Klaus' eyes were still wide. as he went on in a low hiss. "Are you that nonchalant about sex?!"

"Sex with anyone but you," Dorian murmured, looking up at Klaus. "It never really meant that much before. It's... it's different when you aren't madly in love with the other person. That changes everything."

It didn't reassure the man very much, eyes still wide. "I... can't understand that."

Dorian looked unhappy. "No, I suppose you can't. We just grew up very differently, I think. My father had men over to the house and... well, I lost my virginity very young. For the longest time sex was just another amusement - something to do for pleasure, and only for pleasure." He paused for a moment and took another drink. "Back then, looks mattered more than feelings."

"What changed that?"

The blond man smiled winningly, and somewhat wistfully, too. "Well, I met this amazing German man, you see, who had the looks *and* made me feel things..."

"I hope that's not just to stroke my ego," Klaus sighed, looking down into the empty glass for a moment, then sitting back in the chair. "It's still a cruel way to treat you. He was trying to humiliate you."

"I rather think," Dorian said, "he was trying to get on *your* nerves. He wouldn't dare humiliate me. Trust me on this one. Another round?" He held up his empty glass and tilted his head to the side, golden curls tumbling over one shoulder.

"Please." Klaus nodded, face flushing again -- well, the man had succeeded in humiliating him!

Weaving his way across the increasingly crowded floor, Dorian headed off to the bar, presenting the two glasses. As he waited for the bartender, he put a foot up on the railing and leaned over a bit, just for Klaus's sake.

And Klaus was watching.

/He's a sexual creature. I'm a queer prude, and I've gotten myself caught up with the most flamboyant, blatantly sexual, beautiful man I've ever known..../

The bartender finally produced two filled glasses and Dorian carried them carefully back to the table. "Cheers!" he said happily, clinking his glass against Klaus's after sitting down. "What is it in German, again?"

"Prost!" Klaus laughed, repeating the gesture and then drinking his glass down in a full swig. "However, I do not think I can toss this over my shoulder."

"No, you'd upset the ladies from the Ritz, over in that corner," Dorian said smiling. It was wonderful to hear Klaus truly laugh - not the cold, derisive sound that usually passed for Klaus's laughs, but something truly warm and happy. /He's changed so much... almost a different man, or maybe just the *real* man showing through at last.../

"Prost!" Dorian said, "and apologies for mangling the accent."

"Do I apologize for mangling your Queen's English? No. So do not apologize," Klaus smiled, tipping the glass up to get the last drop or two from the bottom.

"*You* have an absolutely *delicious* accent," Dorian said, sipping a bit more slowly. "I could listen to you speak English for hours, it's so sexy..." He rested his chin in his hand and gazed appreciatively over at Klaus.

Klaus smiled a little wickedly, leaned forwards, and plucked Dorian's glass from his hands to take a small sip, before passing it back. "I can't understand that, either."

"Are we in the mood for alcohol tonight?" Dorian said playfully. "And after all the hard work you went through detoxing yourself, too..." He gave the German a wink and then took a sip of his own, leaning forward as well. "I happen to think that German accents are infinitely more sexy than English ones," he purred.

"'s funny -- most of the world dotes on British ones," Klaus murmured. "I'm not an accent-seeking person. I rather like the feelings behind your voice a lot more than the accent."

"And there are a *lot* of feelings behind this voice," Dorian said softly, holding Klaus's gaze. /God I could rip my clothes off right here and beg him to fuck me if I thought he would... and speaking of clothes, he's wearing too damn many.../

Klaus was, still, the picture of a divestmentaphobe. He hated to be looked at when nude, or even partially dressed; Dorian was still trying his best to change that. "I know," Klaus drawled.

"Right now, for instance," the blond man purred, "can you tell what I'm feeling at this very moment?"

"You'd like to do something indecent," Klaus guessed, lifting a hand to brush Dorian's cheek lightly.

The thief laughed, but not before a sizzle of electricity went through him at the touch. "Got it in one!" he said breathily. "I suppose I'm rather transparent that way, when I'm around you."

"Well, often you're angry at me, or frustrated, too," Klaus reminded, stroking his fingertips down, and then off of Dorian's face.

"Yes," Dorian nodded. "Frustration has been an very old friend to me since I've known you. You are an impossible man to ignore... or forget. You got into my soul somehow and no matter what I did you sat there, grumpy but unmovable."

"I was grumpy in your soul?" Klaus asked with a laughter. "I'm going to need that explained."

"The thought of you was always there," Dorian said, smiling at him, "but more often than not, when I thought of you, the image was of you yelling at me or waving a gun around in that very grumpy way you have. But I still wanted to think of you - even that way."

"And what do you think now...?"

"Now... now I have many different images of Klaus Heniz von dem Eberbach in my soul," Dorian said, his voice caressing the words as they formed. "I see many sides to him. He's a fascinating man. I like that about him."

"'s good to know you find me fascinating.I'd hate to seem... plodding."

Another laugh escaped Dorian, who shook his head emphatically. "Never," he said simply. "Chas was just wrong on that score."

He glanced at Klaus's glass and his own, now empty. "Shall we go back to the hotel and rest before dinner?" he said. "Are we going to eat dinner out...? If we do, not so far. My legs are tired," Klaus informed him. Not a complaint -- never a complaint. Just a blunt statement of the facts as he stood up.

"Well, we could use room service tonight," Dorian suggested. "We haven't yet and that would let you rest and take a hot bath... and even get a massage if you want one." Blond eyebrows wiggled briefly.

"I'll only go for that idea if you're the person doing it." When Dorian had stood, too, he started towards the door.

"Of course!" the Englishman said in mild outrage, "do you think I'm going to let anyone else touch you? Hmpf!" And he slipped his hand into Klaus's as they headed out into a late afternoon thick with clouds.

~~~

"This place is very relaxing to return to after an afternoon like that," Klaus murmured, closing the door behind him a bit tiredly. "We're not leaving until tomorrow morning. Last morning, I think." It was odd for him to suggest that, but he was supposing he'd need to recover, too, from whatever Dorian had planned for the rest of their day.

"Yes, sir," Dorian said smartly. "Now, if you don't mind a suggestion, I'd say lay down on the bed and have a short nap, then we can have a bath and order dinner." He looked at Klaus with a questioning expression. The German man was beginning to get his commanding presence back again and it was time for Dorian to be relinquishing some of the power.

Just some, though -- Klaus wasn't demanding all of it back. "'s good for me." And he was completely ready to just lay down on the bed, fully dressed, and sleep. Which it looked like he was going to do, as he moved towards the bed and sat on the edge of it.

"Let me take your jacket," Dorian said. He was smiling at the swift efficiency of the man. /Probably used to taking catnaps fully dressed.../ "And let's get those shoes off, too - you'll be more comfortable that way." The man seemed about to protest blearily for a moment, but did take his jacket off and handed it to Dorian, before pulling up the leg of his pants to unlace his boots in a quick, mechanical fashion. "You going to join me?"

"Yes, in a moment. But it looks like it's about to rain and... well, I like watching rain. I'll just have a smoke and watch a few drops and then be over." So saying, he pulled his cigarettes from his pocket, lit one gracefully and pulled a chair over the one of the tall windows. Drawing aside the curtains halfway, he sat down and put his feet up on the sill, slouching comfortably into the chair, golden curls spilling down over the top and back of it. Klaus watched his companion and lover for a moment, while he took off his other boot. Dorian... was beautiful, and he knew it. He flaunted that fact, and seemed wholly unrepentant for the way he'd acted about that in his youth... and it must have been strange for him to have a lover be so jealous. The German man wasn't even aware of doing it; only that he wanted to protect Dorian from people that he viewed as unsavory -- even if they were still almost friends with the blonde man.

He took his shirt off, too, and didn't have to worry about a chill because he still wore an undershirt. Then, crossing his arms over his chest, and still looking at Dorian's hair, he drifted to sleep atop sheets that hadn't yet been turned down.

~~~

Two hours later, he was roused by a kiss. "Klaus? Wake up, love - dinner's here." Dorian nuzzled at one of his ears and whispered, "If you don't wake up soon I'm going to drink all the wine..."

"If it's British or American wine, you can follow through on that threat," Klaus murmured, giving a shiver, slight and barely noticeable, as he woke up fully. The kiss had been a good jump-starter to consciousness on it's own, though.

"No, it's French - a Cabernet - and it smells heavenly." He tugged softly at Klaus's hand and murmured, "Come and have a drink and see what's for dinner."

"I keep suspecting you've done something evil," Klaus murmured, sitting up at last, grasping onto the hand that had been tugging on his. "How long have I been sleeping?"

"Nearly two hours," Dorian said, leading him to a table by the fire. It had laid with a dinner of prime rib, roasted potatoes, and glazed carrots. The wine was poured and candles burned, and there was a delicious savory smell to the air.

"Hungry?" the blond man said, pulling out Klaus's chair.

"Very much so," Klaus admitted, though he frowned a little at the gesture of his chair being pulled out for him. He did sit down, but the frown was obvious now.

"You let me sleep too long."

"Why?" Dorian asked, sitting down next to him and opening his napkin. "We're not going anywhere, and it was a long day. You needed the rest." He gave Klaus a small pout. "Besides you didn't say anything about waking you up at a certain time."

"I was too tired to think of it," Klaus admitted as he put his own napkin down in his lap. It took him a moment to register that he was sitting there in his trousers and undershirt. It wasn't proper attire at dinner, but on the other hand, it was only he and Dorian. "I was too tired."

"Precisely," Dorian said and held up his wine glass. "Bon appetit."

Apparently Klaus hadn't yet noticed that Dorian was also in questionably appropriate attire for dinner. He wore a dark, silky blue shirt that made his eyes luminous. It was most of the way open and for once his adornment was simple: a small ring of gold that appeared to be hanging from his left nipple. His trousers were sleek-fitting and black, the top two buttons of the fly undone and his feet were bare. "Do you like the wine?" he said softly.

The wine, despite Klaus having brought the glass to his lips and taken a sip from it, was not what Klaus was concentrating on, even in the most vague of ways. He was staring, he knew he was staring, at Dorian's chest. That hard nub of adorned flesh in particular. "Dorian... is that what it looks like?"

The blond gave him an angelic smile. "No - it's a clamp, only looks like a piercing. It makes me feel... very good," he said in a slightly breathy voice. "Does it bother you?"

"It doesn't bother me," Klaus denied, though it did, just a little. But it was a good sort of bother, one that made his groin twitch to life a little as he looked at it. He wanted to touch it, and he didn't -- it was a strange fascination, and too much for him to process all at once. "It... looks very nice on you." "Thanks," Dorian said softly. "Any good dreams while you slept? I always have my best dreams during naps."

"I don't think I dream," Klaus shrugged, finally turning his attention to the meal. When dinner was done, though... that was another matter. He'd have to at least see how the little clamp worked.

Klaus may not have been a talker at meals, but Dorian was very used to dinnertime conversation, so he ignored the head turned towards the plate, the efficient cutting and chewing and continued to chatter.

"Thanks for letting me watch some cricket today. I know it can be astoundingly boring to foreigners, but for Brits it's really quite fun to watch."

"I can't see how," Klaus commented between bites. "It doesn't seem to make any sense."

"No, it never does to other people. I could try to explain it but even *that* wouldn't guarantee you'd understand. Ah, well - I'm just glad you tolerated it enough for me to see a few bowls."

"The game wasn't as bad as the people we met there." Klaus was cutting a piece of meat with a particular sort of viciousness as he said *that*.

"Oh, I don't know," Dorian said, waving his fork airily, "I've met the strangest people at cricket matches. Like Lord Boniface - he came with his pet snake once."

Klaus stopped dead, mid bite, and put his fork down. "I am going to remember that every single time you ever call anything in NATO 'odd'."

That brought a laugh from Dorian, who murmured, "You know I'd *love* to see the Alphabets take on a cricket crowd - I don't think they'd know in the least how to handle them. All the eccentricities would leave them baffled!"

"My poor men would have breakdowns and beg to be sent to Alaska," Klaus decided, and sounded a little pleased. "That could be another punishment to hold over their heads. With my luck, G would appreciate the game."

"Oh, G would be the only one to fit in," Dorian said. "He could join in the gossip in the ladies knitting circle or flirt with the old men who are half deaf - he'd do wonderfully at a match, and he dresses for it, too."

"Never mind then -- he's the one most scared by the threat of Alaska, anyway." Well, and Z, but Z was seldom sent there because he was such a good agent. By now, though, they were all probably living peaceful lives in their duties, since he'd been so long gone from his work.

"Looking forward to getting back and harassing them?" Dorian asked with a smile. "I think they're a bunch of closet masochists, you know - they'll have missed it."

"They're probably happy that I'm gone," Klaus said seriously. "Hopefully I'll be reinstated at Bonn. I've heard of cases like mine being shoved off to other units without a question."

"I have every confidence that you will be," Dorian said. "You're not just any officer. You're their best. They won't send you to some place that would only be a waste of your talent."

"You have more trust in politics than I do," Klaus mused, going back to cutting and eating again.

"Perhaps - but I've also seen how the Chief acts with you. You're far too valuable an officer for them to lose, Klaus. You need to believe that."

The wine glass was picked up again, and Klaus took a sip before he even thought of answering. "We'll see."

"Fair enough," Dorian said, "at least you're keeping an open mind about it. So tell me, how do you like the tourist side of London so far?"

"When we ditch the tour guides, it's a nice thing to do." A smile touched Klaus' face then, lazy and curling, and he looked back to Dorian. "This is the first time I've ever enjoyed a vacation."

"Oh, tell me about your other vacations!" Dorian said. "Where have you been? Tahiti? America? The Arctic Circle?"

"America, once, and I was sent to Bavaria to go to a class reunion once. Hellish. The chief was trying to hook me up with a woman." That made him snort at the memory. "Other than that, I avoid vacations."

Dorian's eyes widened. "The *Chief??* Oh, do tell - what kind of woman did he think was right for you?"

"Some trail guide woman. I don't know. Probably a branch secretary. I went back on duty once I realized what the scheme was."

"Leaving the lady high and dry?" Dorian laughed. "Now Klaus, that was very ungentlemanly of you. Did the Chief give you hell about it later?"

"How could he? I was just told to go on vacation. His plotting was something I was never supposed to have known. Bad enough that I had to go see the people I used to beat up in Gymnasium..."

The thief leaned forward, propping his chin in his hand. "Were you really that bad in school?" he asked.

"I only beat up the people who messed with me or students that were too young to defend themselves properly," Klaus excused -- but there was a glint in his eyes. he'd always loved a good fight, no matter what reason.

"Now why would you do that, troublemaker?" Dorian asked, staring intently at the shining green eyes.

"Do what?"

"Beat up on children who couldn't defend themselves of course!" Dorian said, eyes wide.

Klaus now looked at *him* with wide eyes. "I didn't say that! I said I only beat up the people who picked on those kids!"

"Oh! That's much better! I misunderstood you!" The blond man gave him a sheepish smile. "I thought for a moment you were some *enfant terrible* and it was warping my view of you!" He put a hand to his chest. "Well thank god, I wouldn't have handled that very well!"

"I wouldn't have handled it well, either!" Klaus uttered, still a little shocked, as he took another sip of wine. "That's some conclusion to jump to!"

"Well, I know how much you like hitting things," Dorian said ruefully, breaking into a smile anyway. "It hasn't been that long..."

"It's been a long time, for me," Klaus murmured. "When last?"

Dorian sat back and drained his wine glass, looking thoughtfully at the ceiling. "Let's see, when did you last beat me up... must have been, oh, a year, I guess?"

"Nearly two," Klaus corrected instantly.

"Ah, my mistake," Dorian demurred. "Have you finished?"

"I suppose so -- very good food," Klaus mused, managing to dredge up a smile.

"Glad you liked it," Dorian said. "Even though it *was* English. He stood up and held out a hand to the dark-haired man. "Will you join me on the sofa?" he asked.

Sofa? the suggestion of sofa stirred up some recent and very pleasant memories in Klaus as he stood up, taking Dorian's hand. "My pleasure."

Leading the way, Dorian walked to the large, comfortable looking sofa, sitting down and curling his feet up next to him, as was his usual posture. "I'm very much wanting my dessert now," he said softly.

"Your dessert?" A curiously asked question from Klaus, as he sat down beside Dorian.

"Yes," the blond said. "You." In a moment, his arms slipped around Klaus's shoulders, and he nuzzled softly at the other man's neck.

"Me...? I'm dessert...?"Klaus sounded a little disbelieving, but that tone faded away completely with the touch of Dorian's' soft-skinned face and knowing lips against his neck. "Ohhhh..."

"Oh, yes," Dorian sighed. "Very, very tasty..." He kissed his way up to Klaus's ear, and then traced around the lobe slightly with his tongue before squirming it inside briefly.

"Ahh..." A hand clutched uselessly at his side for a moment, and he could hear Klaus shudder and sigh in reaction to that. " 's always such a feeling..."

"A good feeling, I hope," Dorian whispered, blowing warm air into that same ear. His hands, meanwhile, were exploring Klaus's chest and hair, coming up now and then to stroke a bit at the other side of his neck or brush across his lips. "Oh, you make me want it so badly..."

"What... do you want?" Klaus gasped out, one hand clutching Dorian closer, the other trying to take off his own undershirt so that Dorian could touch without obstruction.

The thief had it off in an instant, running his hands hungrily over Klaus's chest. He reached out to graze a nipple and, at the same instant, took the Major's mouth in a long, lingering kiss. "Everything," he murmured as they broke apart, lips still brushing. "Everything and anything you want to give me..."

"I don't know what else I can give," Klaus breathed, body and groin aching in a fluid throb of want as he pressed the kiss again.

"Mmm... there is more," Dorian whispered, "but I don't know if you want to..."

"Just tell me," Klaus murmured, both hands now exploring Dorian's torso.

"Being inside me, or me being inside you," the blond said softly, kissing him again.

Hands stilled for a moment, and lips, too, before Klaus took a kiss from the British man. "I... can't, yet. It's too..."

Dorian pulled away a bit and looked at him. "It's all right," he said, disappointed but bound not to show a bit of it. "It's not necessary, really." /It's delicious and hot and all I want right now, but really it's not much.../

"Are... you sure...?" Klaus looked hesitant, swearing he picked up that disappointment clearly in the other man's face.

"Of course!" Dorian said, smiling. "It's not important, really." He leaned in again, cursing himself for interrupting the mood and hoping he could regain it before Klaus got skittish.

Skittish, though was just what a man who'd thought he was straight for most of his life was destined for after even such a little startle into discomfort. at least, it seemed Klaus was until he slid a hand over Dorian's chest, fingers brushing the bit of gold on his chest.

It gave Dorian a shiver of pleasure and he arched up a little, wanting the friction again, moaning softly when he found it. "Oh - yes..."

"Doesn't that thing hurt...?" Klaus asked softly, brushing there again.

Another soft gasp. "No! Ah! It just makes everything... sensitive..." The blond man's eyes closed with each pass of Klaus's fingers and he could feel his head dropping onto the back of the sofa, every nerve in his body singing. "So good..." he murmured. "So good..."

"Looks like I'm having dessert," Klaus chuckled softly, making another brush of fingers and a gentle tug that made the ache between his legs throb terribly.

Dorian gave out a little warbled cry, the flesh between his legs twitching, and he wriggled a little under Klaus's hands. "Oh... oh, do that again!"

"This?" Klaus's accented voice dropped to a hush as he gave that clamp a tiny tug.

The long, golden body jerked upwards, and Dorian shuddered again, his hands clinging more tightly to Klaus's shoulders. "Mmm hmm," he managed to get out.

The pretty midnight coloured shirt soon found itself parted further, Klaus leaning nearer his lover to take the right nipple into his mouth, left one still something to tease with his hands.

The weight of it pressed Dorian backwards onto the sofa, eyes closed in bliss, soft moans coming steadily, with each suckle, with each brush of a well-aimed finger. It was heaven and it was Klaus taking him there. ""Oh... my love," he whispered, feeling his hips lift instinctively towards the other man and pressing softly against him.

A slight break in the suckling, for Klaus to murmured, "My pleasure," before returning to the enjoyable task of trying to bring Dorian off on that alone.

It seemed to be working. The feeling of Klaus's mouth on him made his blood turn to fire, and each brush of that finger was pure electricity. The German man's hair was grazing his chest and his erection was obvious every time Dorian pressed upwards, something firm and hot to rub against.

"Ah, love!" Dorian whimpered, breath ragged. "So... ah, so close!"

Dorian made such wonderful noises during sex, Klaus was learning -- encouragement, so many ways to know he was doing something right without having to stop and ask. Klaus started to suckle harder, and pulled that clamp a tiny bit rougher.

"Uhn! Oh god... oh, *fuck* yes!!" Dorian pressed hard upwards and came, little cries with every sweet spasm of release. It felt as though his body were open to every little touch and press Klaus made and then he was tumbling down to Earth again, whimpering softly and holding tight to Klaus's arms.

Klaus drew himself up again, still holding tightly to Dorian, and nuzzled against his mouth,. "You're very sensitive."

Through softly panted breaths, Dorian answered, "Yes, well... you have something to do with that, you know..."

"I do?" Klaus asked in softly laughed mock-innocence.

"Mmm, yes..." the blond murmured, opening his eyes lazily and gazing up at his companion. "You have a wonderful instinct for touching all the right places."

"You tell me what are the right places."

"I do?" Dorian said, mimicking Klaus and tilting his head a little on the sofa cushion.

"Yes. You make... the sweetest moans when some place feels good for you." and then Klaus demonstrated by brushing the clamped nipple again.

"Uhn!" Dorian arched up, a movement that was purely involuntary. "Yes," he said breathily, "yes, I see..." He took another gulp of air and then looked at Klaus again. "Do you want to see how it feels?"

Hesitance from the man, and that was clear -- Dorian had to wonder if he was going to shy again, or... "Yes."

The Englishman smiled and rolled to his side a bit, allowing them to lie side by side. With deft fingers he took the clamp off and leaned over Klaus, opening it and adjusting it to the lightest setting. Then he put it on either side of the semi-erect nub and closed the clasp.

It was like... a light pinch that simply didn't stop -- with every bit of time that passed, the pressure seemed to spread... "'s different... in a good way..."

Reaching out a hand, Dorian brushed the very tip that lay in between the two sides of the tiny ring. "How does that feel?"

"Intense," Klaus breathed out in a ragged sigh, pressing his chest forwards to Dorian for more.

"Yes," Dorian breathed into his ear. He brushed against the bound nub once again, loving the feel of it under his fingers. "It looks so delicious on you..."

"Can you make it... uhmmm, a little more pressure?" Klaus asked shakily, clutching Dorian closer still against him. That pressure made his groin throb worse than it had when just looking at the thing on Dorian. Slender fingers grasped the sides of the ring and pressed lightly until it slipped another notch, the pinch intensifying. Then, as Dorian nursed a delicate earlobe, he let his hand trail downwards to tease at the inside of Klaus's thighs. "Ohhhh, love... so wonderful..."

"This is... decadent," Klaus moaned softly, the hand at Dorian's side clutching fitfully with nearly every touch Dorian gave him, that slender, thief's hand, so close to his groin...

"Oh, absolutely," Dorian purred. "I wouldn't have it any other way..." His hand was sliding upwards, nearly touching Klaus's twitching cock, but not quite. Just a brush of fingers against his balls as Dorian leaned down and pulled at the tiny ring with his teeth. Klaus was, as lovers went, probably the quietest one Dorian had ever had. But that tug of teeth against the clamp, the wash of Dorian's breath against his skin, drew a strangled and choked back noise of pleasure from him -- so much louder than his little gasps and tiny stifled groans. "Ohh, Dorian... Hnn..."

Now the clever fingers found there way up to the prominent erection, squeezing it firmly and rubbing over the length with his thumb. And all the time, Dorian kept up that small, insistent tug at the ring, giving out his own soft sounds of excitement.

Klaus was sure, very sure, that he was going to make a mess of his trousers if Dorian kept it up -- because the Briton knew just the spots to attack him at, every weak point that *Klaus* knew existed, and there were probably more... "Ah, Dorian!"

"Shall we take these off?" the blond murmured against the turgid nipple, tugging at Klaus's waistband. "Please." A tight gasp, and Klaus lifted his hip up for Dorian, trying to aid in removal before Dorian had even started.

Dorian's long-practiced skill at removing men's clothing had them and Klaus's underwear, off in moments and now the thief rested his head against his lover's shoulder, looking down the length of the man's body to the erection straining between his legs. He brushed across the top of it with his palm and it twitched upwards towards the source of the friction. One or two more lazy passes and he had it moving like a snake under a charmer's control.

"Oh, no *that's* a pretty sight," he whispered and turned towards Klaus, giving the ring a small lick and tug. "My beautiful man, all hot and needy..." "You're torturing me," Klaus eked out, eyes clenching shut as he tried to resist the urge to buck his hips up properly against Dorian's hand. Oh, but it was a good torture, and the smile on his face nearly screamed *that*.

Dorian's fingers fluttered onto the long shaft and gave a couple of light strokes. "I like doing it, too," the blond whispered, leaning over to give the other nipple a firm lick. "I'm such a dreadful man..."

"Terrible," Klaus agreed tightly, rocking his hips up against those stroking fingers. "Let me... ah, touch you again..."

"Tell me where you want me to be," Dorian murmured.

A shiver of breath left him, and Klaus tugged Dorian nearer. "Kneeling... over my lap." So he could press and rock against his lover...

In one smooth movement, Dorian was there, straddling his lap and pressing kisses to his neck and jaw before brushing lips over lips then taking his mouth with a rough passion.

Body to body, the way Klaus seemed to like it most -- he pulled Dorian against him, and started to work the man's pants, sticky from release, down from over his hips and groin.

Dorian's rather provocative movements against him actually helped, slowly revealing the tight globes of his ass and causing the thief's breath to catch at the wanton feeling of exposure. "I love... ah, love your hands on me..."

"Love them where?"

"Everywhere," Dorian said, smiling at him and pressing softly forward. "They turn me to fire..."

"Fire, huh..?" Another kiss, rough and bruising, and Klaus slide Dorian's pants down further, cupping soft globes of flesh and muscle in his hands.

"The sweetest kind," was the husky reply he got as Dorian wriggled into the touch of his hands. They still had calluses, even after all these months without guns and training, they were still deliciously rough and it made him shudder with pleasure at the thought of them and what they could do to him - what they'd be doing as soon as Klaus had a chance to get back to his guns and training again. Hands that could kill and hunt could grant such pleasure... Experimentally, he stroked those globes, from the top of them to where they became the backs of the thief's thighs. "You feel wonderful."

"I want to please you," Dorian whispered, his breath warm on Klaus's ear. He pushed his hips forward softly, pressing against the other man's arousal. "I want you to feel completely satisfied."

That was just what Klaus had wanted, from the way his breath jumped into his throat. "I am, ah, Dorian..."

Slender hands glided over Klaus's shoulders and down his chest, on thumb plucking lightly at the nipple ring. Then Dorian leaned back a bit and began a soft, slow grind against the other man. "Sweet man..."

"Not 'sweet'," Klaus challenged in a gruff noise of arousal as his fingers used the globes they clutched to guide Dorian closer against him.

"Then what?" Dorian breathed, wanting nothing more than inch forward a few millimeters...

"Don't know." Another gasp, as their groins began to rub steadily against each other, movements and sweet counterpoint.

"Well, then," Dorian said, the words nearly huffed out, "My big, strong, nasty, horrible man... oh, *damn*!" The intensity of the pleasure was making him dizzy and he let his head drop back, eyes closing for a moment to concentrate on the feeling. "So good, you horrible brute..."

"I'm a brute?" Now there was laughter in his voice, words hard to find as he started to bring them together more and more.

"Yes," Dorian said, giving a long, slow rub against the other man. "Not sweet, not beautiful, just a big brute who I happen to be madly in love with..."

"Hmn. I understand you less than before," Klaus murmured, more serious than not -- if Dorian was joking, it wasn't quite reaching the German man.

Long, golden arms wrapped around his neck and Dorian kissed him deeply. As he pulled back, he murmured, "You don't want me to call you all the things I really want to, so I'm giving you the opposite... and it still doesn't change my mind about you."

"It changes my mind about me," Klaus told him, smiling a little as he took another kiss and then arched against Dorian. "liked the other things better."

"Mmm... then don't complain..." Dorian said, pressing firmly against him, then pressing back into Klaus's hands. "Being my sweet man doesn't make you any less tough. In fact, I love it that you're both..."

"'s good," Klaus breathed, pulling Dorian close again. "Nnn, you're teasing..."

Fingernails raked over Klaus's shoulders and down his back. "Yes," Dorian whispered, "I am... What are you going to do about it?"

"Find... a way to tease you back." Letting his fingers drift a little, down against Dorian's' cleft.

The Englishman let out a shivered breath. "Yes... teasing is good... I love being teased..."

"Why?"

The blond men let out an exasperated laugh and put his hands on either side of Klaus's head. "Because it *feels* good!" he said. "Don't you ever like things just because they *feel* good?"

"You feel good -- right now," Klaus told him, holding their bodies together once more. "I didn't use to... do anything for that reason..."

"Mmm, that sounds too lonely," the thief murmured, savoring the heat of the contact. "You have a lot of pleasure to make up for."

"With you." It was starting to fall into a rhythm, Klaus murmuring, "I refuse to do all the work."

"Oh, I insist on giving you all your assignments in that area," Dorian said, now moving up and down against the thickness of the other man's shaft. "No outside agents on this one."

"I think you are the outside agent..." It somehow prolonged the passion, talking with Dorian as they did that -- kept him from concentrating too solidly.

"I thought you and I were on the same side," Dorian panted, feeling blood rush to his cheeks as their rhythm picked up.

"We... uhm, have to be on different sides... to work together..." he was clutching now at Dorian's bottom and hips, steering wild thrusts.

"Mmmm... opposites *do* attract..." Dorian whimpered.

"Seems... so..." It had certainly held true over their years of knowing each other -- always drawn together... "'m near, Dorian..."

"Then let it happen," the blond whispered, feeling his own release building.

When it came, Klaus bit back noise again, crushing Dorian against him for that last bit of friction that he'd needed to reach the pinnacle he was tumbling over.

The feeling of that thick shaft, pulsing and hot, was enough to bring Dorian off, as well and for long moments they simply pressed themselves to each other, neither wanting to break it off until the last bit of pleasure was gained. "You do it so well, beloved man," the Englishman whispered. "So well..."

"Do what?" Klaus asked in a slow, sated-sounding drawl.

Dorian's laugh was languid. "Questions, questions, questions," he murmured. "*This* he said, giving the man a light squeeze. "Sex."

A shudder of breath reached Dorian's arms. "'s more than sex."

"Yes, that what makes it so good," Dorian whispered, pulling Klaus down to the sofa and kissing him softly. "That's why it could only happen with you..."

"Mmm, there's nothing wrong with asking questions," Klaus murmured as they stretched out together, completely disheveled.

"Yes, but *sometimes* - only *sometimes* mind you - there *are* better things to do with your mouth..."

"I'll work on that some time," Klaus uttered slyly.

Dorian chuckled and snuggled down next to him. "I really can't tell you everything you've done for me already," he said, sliding his arm over Klaus's belly. "You wouldn't believe me if I did."

"Try," Klaus challenged lightly.

There was a slight pause and then Dorian's voice, soft in the quiet of their room. "You made me care about something when I thought I'd given that kind of thing up for good. You stopped me becoming more selfish than I already was, and you showed me a world I never dreamed existed. You showed me a very different kind of courage and bravery - and a completely different way of looking at the world."

He kissed one of Klaus's shoulder blades. "And that was just the first couple of times we met. It's only grown since then."

"You've done so many small things for me, Dorian... but the biggest would be that you've always ben a source of... light."

Now it was Dorian's turn to ask the question. "I'm not sure what you mean by that - 'light.'"

"Optimism, hope, colour, kindness..."

"All those things I thought you didn't care for," the blond said softly. "You are a constant source of surprise to me, love."

"Why would you think I don't care for that?" Klaus shifted, to better look Dorian in the eye.

Dorian shrugged, stroking one side of the German man's arm. "You're such an ascetic - you don't seem to have any truck with colour or kindness. They seem to offend your sensibilities so often. Or maybe it was just *my* form of kindness that did it."

"And your form of colour that offended my sensibilities," Klaus teased gently.

"Yes, that was obvious right from the start," Dorian agreed. "Perhaps I would have gotten farther with you if I'd taking to wearing a suit and tie everyday, but really, they're so *constricting*! I don't know how you tolerate them so well."

"It's a uniform as much as my real uniform," Klaus told him. "You've worn a NATO uniform. Wool. Don't wonder how I could wear a suit all the time."

"Why shouldn't I?" Dorian asked "It's so different from me."

"You can't wear a suit, and I couldn't wear what you wear."

Dorian had to laugh at the idea of Klaus in gauze. "No, you couldn't. Thank goodness because you look so good in your suits."

"I could never wear that fluff you can," he chuckled softly, taking a kiss from the other man. "Let's.. move to the bed, hmn?"

"Sounds perfect," Dorian murmured, stretching like a cat. Then he rose and held out a hand to Klaus, who shifted up languidly. "Ugh, I think I need another shower."

"Alone or accompanied?"

/I'm not used to being so familiar with another person, Dorian... my nerves are on edge from everything we've done.../ "Alone, I think," Klaus murmured quietly, giving Dorian's hand a squeeze. "All right," the thief said, "but throw me a damp towel before you close the door, please."

And he did, parting quickly from Dorian before he changed his mind. The damp towel was handed to him, rather than tossed, and then Klaus absconded himself completely in the shower. Hair washed, body scrubbed clean, he shaved again -- to save himself the trouble come morning -- and came out with a towel on, pulling his pajamas out of the suitcase. Dorian, having washed himself as best he could, was lying on the bed, dozing comfortably.

There was a sort of comfort in going to sleep after Dorian had already done so. As if, since he'd seen the man sleeping, he would remain so for an indefinite amount of time during the night. A long time.

Dressed in night-clothes, Klaus slipped tugged the sheets up over Dorian's decadent sprawl, and then laid close against the blonde man.

~~~

The Bloody Tower was, to Klaus's mind, a poor prison.

Three stark stories, one of which wasn't really a story at all, but an arch-way, medium sized windows that could have been broken and climbed out of, too many exits for a proper prison, and too good furniture. Then again, truly determined people who would have made use of such weaknesses had probably been killed on the spot. Klaus kept that in mind as the tour guide went over the history of the famous prison, trying to not look at Dorian and sigh. The quality of architecture, at least, was impressive, so he let his concentration drift to that as they entered the place.

"Many of the prisoners that were kept here were here on religious grounds, of course," the tour guide was saying. "Many were prisoners of Queen Mary the First, who executed so many Protestants that she was known as 'Bloody Mary.'" Dorian looked uneasily at Klaus, hoping he didn't get angry at the obvious bias in the tour guide's narrative, but it was something Klaus was accepting as simply a fact. He just glanced over to Dorian and gave a grim shrug of his shoulders before he let his gaze slip away to stare at the roofing beams.

"Mary, of course," the guide continued as they made their way to the top of the building, "was a dedicated Catholic, and was soon to marry Philip II of Spain. This made her very unpopular with much of the English public. Philip, you see, who was from the Spanish branch of the Hapsburgs, was determined that in each of his lands, Catholicism would be strengthened. His marriage to the new Queen, therefore, was seen as a true threat to Protestantism, which was quickly gaining ground in Britain at the time."

"Everyone's a critic when it comes to relationships," Dorian murmured.

"Shh." Perhaps it was the history buff in Klaus that was the part intent on listening -- or, perhaps it had been his mind perking up at the mention of Catholicism and Hapsburg, said in the same sentence no less.

"Also keep in mind," the guide said as they all crowded into one of the prison rooms, that Philip was a strong, crusading man. He was already bringing the Netherlands in line with his way of thinking, and he was determined to have England be the same. The two of them, Philip and Mary, were married after only knowing each other for a day, but they seemed to have been very much in love with each other, although they never had children."

The urge to snap at the man that it hadn't been about love, but the alliance of two strong royal families, of two strong countries, was hard for Klaus to resist. Must have taken and act of god for him to keep his mouth shut, looking over the decadent furniture of the room. A *prison*? It looked more like a resort!

A woman, obviously American from her accent, raised a hand, which the guide acknowledged.

"Isn't it true that Philip was a complete failure as a monarch? He obviously didn't have much of an impact on English history."

"Ah, well - that's not quite true," the guide said, obviously keen to show off his knowledge. "His battles in the Netherlands gained him the Flemish and Walloon areas back under the wing of Catholicism, and he soundly defeated the Ottomans in the Corinthian Gulf. Not only that, but he sent the Spanish Armada - one of the largest fleets in military history - against England in 1588. Now you can hardly say he had no impact on Great Britain. After all, he was trying with all his might to keep the vast Hapsburg empire together - a rather Herculean task"

Dorian looked over at Klaus and winked. "Quite a chap, that one," he said softly.

"But the Spanish armada was beaten soundly, wasn't it?" the American woman pressed.

The wink went unnoticed, Klaus thinning his lips in an attempt at silence. He would not snap out something and get he and Dorian kicked out. He would stay calm, if stiff and military in position, and not say a word...

"Yes, indeed, but that was something of great surprise, you see. No one expected that the maneuverability of the smaller English ships would be able to win over the sheer power of the Spanish fleet. No, I would have to say that Philip's legacy wasn't at all black. He is widely praised for his management of Hapsburg territories and his use of the family's vast resources.

"But I digress - now the room we find ourselves in is the same one that Princess Elizabeth - who would one day be Queen Elizabeth the First - found herself in at her sister's Mary's decree..."

Hanging back a bit from the crowd that surged forward to look at a writing desk, the blond haired man surveyed his lover uneasily. "Klaus? Anything wrong?

"No." It was easy to deny that there was anything wrong. Anything more than the flood of thoughts that poured into his mind when beaten against the side of his head with what amounted to family history. "'m fine."

"I don't believe you," Dorian said. "Do you want to chuck this and go somewhere else?"

A hard-pressed sigh left him, as he looked up to the ceiling for a moment. Very obviously counting to ten. "Yes."

Silently, they walked back down the stairs and out into the courtyard, where several of the Yeoman Warders were talking with tourist groups about the Tower ravens.

"There's a nice bench," Dorian said, pointing. "Let's have a break, shall we?"

"Yes." He agreed perhaps too quietly to that idea, moving in march-step towards the appointed bench. When he sat down, he didn't relax even minutely -- he was still stiff and stern-looking, jaw clenched closed. /Don't think. Don't think. Don't think, Klaus. Klaus Heinz von dem... Eberbach. Branch of the House of Hapsburg. Catholics since before the castle was built and rebuilt. God *dammit*, don't think, don't think.../

The Englishman waited a moment, taking in the almost twitching jaw and tense silence, and then ventured carefully, "Something in the tour make you angry, love?"

"It... reminded me of things." Klaus' tone was tight-lipped, jaw still clenched. /Don't think. just... don't think./ The shame of the drugs hadn't been enough for him, had it? What had he been doing these past weeks? 'Recovering'? Lazing around, indulging in sinful pleasures, being steadily corrupted by the Earl sitting beside him on the bench.

The full impact of facing that he was a queer and a disgrace to the family was starting to fall.

Dorian found himself puzzled, mind racing to think of what could have been in the presentation to cause such silence - what looked like barely suppressed anger. Klaus hadn't gotten angry at him for a long, long time, and he really didn't want it to happen again, especially here in public. If he was going to get a beating for some as-yet-undisclosed offense, he'd rather it happen privately.

"Would... would you like to go back to the hotel?" he said carefully.

"What, so we can go do sick, perverted things while I'm hiding from the world?!" Klaus snapped, words out before he'd realized what he'd said. "NO!"

The words, and the tone behind them, nearly took Dorian's breath away. /Damn, what's happened! He's back to... wonderful, just wonderful./

"We don't have to do anything of the kind, Klaus," he said, forcing his voice to be light and calm. "We can just go back to rest."

"I don't want to 'rest'." More nearly-bellowed words, and then Klaus clenched his jaw tight again. "I... I'm sorry, Dorian." Quieter now, contrite almost. "I..."

Not looking at the other man for fear of making him angrier, Dorian said quietly, "What is it?" biting back the 'love' that nearly followed. "What's happened? Can you tell me?"

Could he? Could it even be put into words at all... Or, words that would make sense? German leapt to his tongue first, but it was bit back to keep him from having to repeat himself. "I... I'm turning my back on my family in this."

/Whatever made him think of *that*?/ "I see," Dorian said, and then added, "But you're being true to yourself. Isn't that just as important?"

"It's not how I was brought up to be."

"Yes, well - I was brought up to be a frivolous git, in large part, but that's not really who I am."

"But you're not failing your family by *not* being one," Klaus snapped, standing up to.. he didn't know what. He just had to stand, had to do something.

Dorian stood up as well. "Klaus - you've already done your family *great* honor by being the man you are. You're strong, brilliant, and the best agent NATO ever had. At some point it has to be enough. At some point you have to be able to say that you've done enough for your family and be able to live for *yourself.* It's not selfish. It's just being honest."

"It's selfish! I'm stopping years of history from marching on through my family!" Why didn't Dorian seem to understand that?

The blond man was reaching the end of his patience. He knew it was pointless, even dangerous to argue with Klaus when he was in this kind of mood, but he'd tasted a little of what it could be like and if the German man wanted them to go back to business as usual he'd have to drag Dorian kicking and screaming.

"Is that all that's important to you?" he said, turning to Klaus suddenly. "That you impregnate some female and pass your genes on to a little kid who'll be raised to feel nothing but familial duty as well? Is that your idea of living your life? Because if it *is* than obviously I don't have a part in it!"

The threat of Dorian not being in his life... It struck cold Klaus' simmer of anger, left him chilled and frozen in place. "I... couldn't live without you in my life."

"Well where am I to fit in with a breeding partner?" the blond said. "Or am I supposed to hide off to the corner of your life while you make sure you have a proper heir? I won't do it, Klaus. I love you more than my very breath but I can't live a lie."

"I'm *supposed* to find a way to have an heir, Dorian... I... I'll have to eventually adopt, or... find some other way...." /But I can't *not* have you in my life, Dorian! Ach, god, this hurts.../

"I would love to raise a child with you," Dorian said, voice softer now. "But if you feel you have to do it by marrying someone just for that purpose... I... I just couldn't take that. Not now. Not after everything we've been through."

"I..." Did he want to live a lie, too...? "Let's go back to the hotel, Dorian. Now. I need... need to think." About what could be acceptable, appropriate, allow him to have Dorian in his life, yet not cost him his heritage.,

Feeling suddenly sad and strangely defeated, Dorian nodded silently and they head for the street, where the blond hailed a taxi. Ten minutes later they were at the London Outpost.

Dorian hesitated at the door. "Would you... like some time alone?" he said. "I can go for a walk - a coffee - that kind of thing."

"Y...no. Just... let me think." Klaus was firm in tone, even if he wasn't sure about what he'd do next. He led the way up to their room, and opened it, looking around for a moment before he stepped in.

"What is it?" Dorian asked from behind him.

"Nothing. I'm just... on edge." Tired, more emotionally than physically. Why couldn't he just want to be with a woman? Wouldn't that solve all of his problems...?!! He crossed the room, and slumped down into one of those comfortable chairs, brows still drawn.

"What are you frightened of, Klaus?" Dorian said softly. "Your family disapproving? Well, what if they do? Will the world end?"

"I'm not frightened of anything!"

"Then what's changed so suddenly?" Dorian challenged. /Damn you and your stoic nature! Of course you're frightened! You're scared to death by what you feel!/

/It's like standing on a rail-road track, with two trains coming right at me.../ Klaus was working how mouth; his jaw was moving, but sounds weren't coming out. At last he muttered "Nothing's changed. I just... forgot things."

"Forgot things?" the blond asked. "You mean little things like 'Don't fall in love with another man,' and 'Only straight men get to be Eberbachs?'" He knew he was walking into danger, saying things like this, but it didn't seem to matter anymore to Dorian. He wanted some closure. He couldn't keep living on a knife's edge, wondering whether Klaus really loved him enough to be there. In a corner of his mind, a small voice wondered when he'd gotten such bloody high expectations.

"Yes, god-dammit, I've been ignoring everything I was raised to believe! I've been ignoring it, on purpose, and..." and now he was scared. Their natural-feeling intimacy with each other, his willingness to let Dorian pull him into things that would have shocked him dead before, his enjoyment of Dorian at his side. "It isn't safe for you."

"Bloody hell it isn't safe for me!" Dorian retorted. "*I* know about risks and I don't take them lightly. If I thought it was too dangerous for either one of us, we wouldn't be here right now! That's just an excuse, Klaus. *You* may be uncomfortable with what we've done - what we've become to each other - but don't try to use *me* as your reason to run away from the truth!"

He walked to door, wanting to leave, to clear his head. Arguing with Klaus never worked and he didn't know why he was doing it now. Hell, *reasoning* never even worked with the man -- arguing was only fanning flames that were certainly burning hotly now!

Klaus stood again, a burst of living energy as he crossed towards Dorian. "I don't want to have you walk into this blind. I have so many obligations..."

"I don't want to be another obligation," the Englishman said, hand on the door. "and if that's the way you think of me, it wouldn't work anyway." He turned and look Klaus in the eye, marveling at his own ability to remain calm. "Or perhaps you've decided that all those obligations come first. That family, who's given you nothing but grief, who didn't show an *ounce* of love to you, even as a child, means more than someone who's willing to give up his *life* he loves you so much! Well, if those are you priorities, Klaus, then *fine*! You *live* with them!!" With that, he was out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

He half-started after Dorian, but didn't bother.

After all, the man couldn't leave forever. He still had clothes and things there, the car... Thoughts Klaus used to comfort himself as he sat down on the bed, energy leaving his body in a rush. The man was right, but didn't seem to understand that Klaus had been taught that that duty and a sense of priority was what was expected of him... Only, now it didn't make sense. He wanted Dorian -- wanted to sleep beside him every night, learn more of pleasure with the man, and the companionship they shared.

Dorian was down in the street in less than two minutes and in less time than that he'd gotten a handsome cab. He sat in the back, eyes closed, wondering where to go to calm down. After a few moments hesitation he murmured, "The Tate Galleries, please."

~~~

When Dorian entered the room, hours later, it was to find the fireplace roaring with a guttering blaze. And Klaus, clothes loosened for better comfort, sitting cross-legged in front of it. He looked at least a little drunk, quiet and contemplative as he took another swig right from the bottle of whiskey he'd taken from the mini-bar.

"Well, you're still here - that's a good sign," the blond man said.

"Vaa?" A hazy slur of words, Klaus setting down the bottle as he looked up to Dorian.

It appeared to be the second, since the first was sitting on the hearth's stones.

"Oh dear. Gotten into the whisky, have you?" Dorian stepped forward into the room, toeing off his shoes and getting himself stiff gin from the cabinet. Then he sat down a few feet from Klaus and looked at him.

"Have you had a think?" he said.

"Ja."

"Good," Dorian nodded solemnly, taking a long pull on his drink. "Come to any conclusions?"

"'m n't goin' to marry... 'n I want to stay wit' you." He shifted a little, but seemed to know he was too unsteady to move too quickly just then. "'re a lot t' me."

It was a garbled profession of tenderness, but a profession all the same and Dorian accepted it graciously. "You're a lot to me, too," he said, reaching out an arm to steady the man. "I was hoping you would say something like that."

Klaus moved an arm, too, to grasp Dorian's arm. "'ve been scar'd 'f... 'f if yo'd leav' me...c'n't n't hav' you 'n my lif'..."

The blond put a hand to the German's face, softly, carefully. "I want to be right there, Klaus. I want to be with you in everything you do. You don't know what I'd do for you, you foolish man..."

"Yo' dun k'ow wh't I' ddo f'r you," Klaus all but purred, smiling a little drunkenly at Dorian. "'m gl'd yo' cam' bak."

"Stupid sod!" Dorian's voice was breaking and he thought if might be best if the other man didn't see the tears threatening to overwhelm him, so he grabbed onto Klaus and buried his face against his neck. "I love you so *bloody* much!"

It only got him a slightly puzzled noise, and then Klaus holding him tightly in return, not protesting the feel of Dorian's skin against his. "'m sorr."

"I'm sorry, too, love," the thief whispered. "But I'm so glad you were still here..."

"Vaz' I goin' t' lev'?" Klaus asked, turning his face into golden curls. His mood was lifting, and he regretted a little having drank quite so much.

"You could have," Dorian whispered. "You're strong enough, now." He gave the an extra tight squeeze. "So glad you didn't..."

"'f yo'... din't come bak, I wuld've." Still sitting there cross-legged, leaning into Dorian's embrace and embracing it turn... it was nice, really. he was glad he'd decided to wait for the man after all.

They sat that way, in front of the fire, for a long time. The silence was deep but companionable and Dorian had snuggled his head against Klaus's neck, arms wound firmly around the other man's chest. It felt exquisite after thinking he might be losing him.

Finally, he looked up and murmured, "Are you hungry? Tired? Can I get you anything?"

"'m fine, jus' like this..." Klaus answered him, concentrating very hard to get the words to form properly.

"All right, then," the blond said. He looked into the fire, trying every way he could to memorize the feeling of Klaus around him - the warmth of his arms, the whisky on his breath, the weight of his head, heavy and close. That sweet heartbeat, too - Dorian listened closely for long minutes and stored that away in his mind for times when Klaus wouldn't be there, right next to him. Morning was starting to creep up through the night's sky, little tendrils of light starting on the horizon. Klaus had dozed a little, but had mostly stayed away, muzzily processing thoughts. Dorian was a bane and a god-send in his life. A gift from a god that he couldn't believe in, and couldn't trust... maybe it was to make up for years of just miserable shit.

"Le's go t' bed."

"Mmm... right..." Dorian stirred from a light sleep and then got up. He gave a hand to Klaus, pulling him up from the floor and then pulled the curtains closed all the way. As he crossed the floor he shed clothing everywhere and then crawled into bed, looking perfectly snug within moments.

Klaus stood there for a moment, saying precariously as he watched Dorian. He *would* make it to the bed, and crossing the floor, imitated a neater version of Dorian's quick strip. Not too long after Dorian slipped under the sheets, Klaus did the same, muzzily smiling to himself.

It was nearly noon when Dorian eyes fluttered open. It was cozily warm and his back was fitted snugly against Klaus's chest, the German man's arms tight around him. Just a little wiggle and he could feel another morning erection to match his own.

It made him smile. He hadn't lost him in the night, hadn't lost him to Klaus' own fears and ties to a past that had treated him badly. Klaus had been dreadfully frightened that *he* would leave -- and had waited hopefully, if sullenly drunk, for him. Such actions spoke wonders for Klaus' subconscious want of Dorian and what he offered. Companionship, pleasure and, more elusive in the German's life, love.

A soft huff of breath could be felt against the back of his neck, at the short hairs that grew at the nape, never quite full curls. Klaus shifted, tugging Dorian closer back against him.

"Mmm... 'morning love," the blond man murmured. /Oh, I could eat you *alive* right now.../

"Nn-hm." Groggy to awaken, Klaus had to first process through the mild headache that clung to him that he wasn't being smothered. At least, not in a truly bad way -- He had Dorian tight in his arms, face buried against the man's neck and upper back.

"How's your head?" Dorian asked.

"'s okay." He'd had worse, far worse when withdrawing, and both men knew it. Another shift, and Klaus pressed an almost kiss to the back of Dorian's neck. Just a ghosting, sleepy brush of lips. "Guten Morgen."

That sent a shiver through the Englishman, causing him to squirm again, pressing backwards until Klaus's erection fit neatly against his bottom and he let out a sigh of pleasure.

"About last... yesterday afternoon..." Klaus' voice was a low, measured whisper of voice. "I shouldn't have done what I did."

"No, you shouldn't have," Dorian said, fairly purring, "but I know why you did. Change is hard for everyone. I should have allowed you your doubts, I suppose. They're bound to come up now and then."

"No, Dorian. Don't... let me talk myself into things." He'd needed just what the other man had done -- shocked him into having to face the *reality* of things.

"As you wish," the blond man said, turning in his arms and staring up at him. "What can I do to take away those doubts?"

"I don't know." Hard truth, just as much as that Klaus was facing a moment laying in bed with his lover, completley naked, and with a body more than eager. "Just do what you did yesterday. it worked."

Dorian looked surprised. "You mean, I should get up right now and slam the door on you? Wouldn't that rather take the mood down a notch?"

It was always hard to tell if the man was joking, or not -- but Klaus found it oddly funny, and took a kiss while chuckling. "Nein. Only when I act stupid like yesterday."

"Right, it's a promise."

Snuggling closer to the other man, Dorian nuzzled up to his neck and began to press soft kisses along it. "Mmmm... think I'll have you for breakfast..."

"Ahh...? I'm a food-group now?" Someone those words slipped past his shiver of breath as he arched his head back for Dorian's trailing lips.

Kisses turned to gentle suckles and Dorian's hands began to explore his chest, brushing across half-hardened nipples and pinching them lightly. "You're a feast," he whispered, "a feast that's mine alone."

Slowly, Klaus dropped back onto the bed, laying there on his back to let Dorian touch while he slowly memorized. Once... once when the earl least expected it, Klaus would seduce him. Thoroughly. Until then, he'd learn. "Never... been anyone else's." passing nights with hookers, cold shoulders and bad experiences that were nothing like a *moment* spent basking in Dorian.

"Being with you, like this, is like... worship," Dorian said, breath coming more heavily now. His hands moved lower, ghosting along Klaus's belly and flanks. As they wandered, he kissed his way up to the man's ear, clutching the lobe between his teeth before suckling that as well and all the while his leg moved slowly over Klaus's, until he was half draped over him.

The nip and suckle against his ear stirred him into a fully aroused wakefulness, a need to touch back. His left leg shifted, twisting a little to twine with Dorian's encroaching limb. The heat of bodies meshing, the rise it stirred in his heart and groin... "'s making love, ja?"

"In a way, yes," said the Englishman, finding it hard to speak coherently. His hands couldn't get enough of the man beside him, sliding over the warm flesh with the sweetest caresses, coaxing the same out of Klaus with small, encouraging sounds. "'s right... feels so *good*..." "Feels right." Not morally right, just... as if he belonged where he was, with Dorian there, letting his hands stroke firmly down the line of the man's spine. Safe, and he needed him for reasons he couldn't place. Was it the humour? The man's instincts? His willingness to be open and loving...

"Kiss me," Dorian ordered softly, brushing against Klaus's lips. "It's been hours since we kissed." "Can't remember if we did last night or not," Klaus mused, letting the thief have first a brush, then a nuzzle, and then he skipped from that tease to letting his lips mesh warmly with Dorian's, tongue seeking permission for more.

It was granted, of course, and Dorian fell back onto the bed, pulling Klaus over him as the kiss deepened. His senses were positively *singing* with want and everything about the German man seemed calculated to amplify it - his warmth, his weight, the heady scent of man that he exuded. It was heaven and he the most adoring of worshippers.

"Mm." It was with a content noise that Klaus pulled back, looking down carefully into Dorian's bewitching eyes. He'd avoided them so long, and how he'd just given in entirely.

"You look splendid up there," the blond man breathed, running his fingertips along Klaus's arms. "But you're so far away..."

"So far away?"

"Mm hm - I can look at you... but I can't kiss you," Dorian said, giving a soft wriggle under Klaus's weight.

The face above him softened another slow notch, and Klaus sighed a soft moan. "Is that all you want?"

"No," Dorian said simply, still gazing up at him. "I want everything you can give me."

"Everything... Dorian, I still don't know what that is." Half sighed, and it was clear that the German was trying to keep himself open, pushing back reactive walls.

"Just do what feels good to you," came the breathy reply, as those long fingers grazed Klaus's hips. "What do you most want to do with me... right at this moment? What does your body want?"

"I want to see..." /That I can make you feel things as wild as it feels when you make me feel it.../ "How different making love to a man is from a woman," he decided at last. Then perhaps Dorian would let him have free roam to touch, without interference for once

"I'm yours to explore, love," the Earl husked. Just the thought of it made him exquisitely hard, to have Klaus's hands on him, to watch the man satisfy fevered curiosity and use him to do it. Without thinking he arched upward against the weight of the German man above him. "Oh, *please*, love..."

"Don't... distract me so," Klaus murmured, half teasing as he shifted down, peeling the bedding down with him as he went so he could have a clear look at his lover.

"But I *like* distracting you," Dorian whispered. "Your reaction is always so delicious..."

"This time, Dorian... for you.." Lips pressed against his nipple, searching and still a little tentative, but willing.

A little gasp escaped the thief, pleasure shivering through him like electricity. He could feel his body responding to Klaus, lifting towards him, wanting more. Never, and he'd remarked on it before, had Klaus had a partner who responded with such vibrant life to his touches. Dorian arched and shuddered even when he sat back, letting his hands explore and stroke more thoroughly than his mouth could. Over the twitching ripples of muscles, the points of Dorian's hips, and the twitching erection between those sharp points. His, for and because of him.

Dorian closed his eyes, savoring the touch, a soft whimper filling the air between them. Klaus was still tentative in spots, a curious searching with strong, calloused fingers that caused memories of the man in action to flood Dorian's mind. Memories of sharp eyes and steady hands and a lean, powerful body that could do anything the mind wanted it to. He'd fallen in love with all of it and more and now he positively bloomed under the wandering fingertips.

Had been able to. Klaus wondered how he would do on duty now, in action. The strength was still not nearly *there* enough, reactions still slowed... but he was getting better. Every day, every moment, some part of himself returned. Now, touching along Dorian's flanks with careful, tender grace, he felt things come to him that had simply never *been * there before.

Dorian's fingernails raked over the skin of Klaus's shoulders before loving hands buried themselves in his hair. Though he said nothing, his eyes were pleading, for what it wasn't clear and Dorian himself didn't really know, but plead they did. The blond man had never felt quite so wanton with any lover. It was Klaus's touch alone that could make him feel this reckless. "What now?" Klaus met clear blue eyes firmly, not looking for a suggestion. No, he wanted guidance in this, wanted to know what the next step was from what they'd done. He knew what it was, and it itched at the back of his mind, but...

Dorian hesitated only a moment then whispered, "On the nightstand... the little green jar. It goes on you... and inside of me." The order/suggestion couldn't be obeyed without something to distract himself with, a rough quick kiss stolen from the thief's reddened lips. He half wanted to ask the man why he had it, so close at reach and *with* them, but... But he didn't want a smug answer to reach him.

"Here - let me help," Dorian said once the jar was opened. He scooped a bit up with two fingers. "Let's do you first..."

He held the lubricant in is fist for a moment, warming it before stroking it firmly along Klaus's length. His grip was smooth and he let his thumb brush languidly over the top of the head, gaze remaining steadily on Klaus's face. It was hard to relax under such an intensity of expression -- the earl looking at him with firm intent, watching the emotions flicker over his face. "Hhhn." Soft pant of breath, and those military eyes threatened to slide shut.

It was then that Dorian smiled, a soft, brilliant smile that spoke of love and comfort and utter delight with the man he was touching. He let out a soft moan of pleasure at the feeling of Klaus in his hand and reached down to cup the German's silky balls, giving them a soft squeeze. The smile and things associated with it were worth keeping his eyes open for, but he shifted nearer to Dorian, trying to not look at the contrast of a dark thatch of hair against Dorians' pale slender hand.

"Now love... take some on your fingers and put one inside of me, slowly. I'll guide your hand if you like..."

Klaus delved his fingers into the jar, warming them for a moment before he shifted nearer again. Then, unsure, "Ja... show me..." He didn't want to use too much force and hurt him!

His hand was taken in a firm but gentle grip and guided to Dorian's entrance. "First one finger... then two..."

His index first, then, pressing against the tight crinkled ring of muscle. Not even trying to push in yet, just rubbing, feeling there for a moment. "This won't hurt...? You can get pleasure from it?"

The answer to that became obvious immediately as Dorian closed his eyes and, without thinking, lifted his hips off the mattress. "Ahh! Oh, yes... yes indeed..."

Very slowly Klaus slid that finger past the resistance of the clenching barrier, shifting forwards to kiss Dorian's flat stomach to one side of his obviously needy cock. "One day... you'll show me how."

"Mmmn... yes," he moaned softly, barely able to speak with what they were doing. "Someday... when you want it... ah!" Klaus finger rubbed slowly over his prostate and and Dorian let out a pleasured cry. The nub was touched experimentally, and perhaps with a bit too much pressure for it to be only pleasure that Dorian felt. But it was another reaction wrung from the British man *solely* because Klaus was doing it to him.

"So good... ah, god, Klaus... right *there*!" Dorian was wriggling frantically, breath coming faster as the other man toyed with him. It had been so long since he'd done anything like it and to be doing it with Klaus... it didn't get any better!

Silky. The other man had called Dorian that, had probably done just what Klaus was doing now... But couldn't have needed to do it with the intensity Klaus felt. To touch like that, to feel love and be wanted... Another scraping rub, and Klaus lifted his lips from Dorian's stomach to look at hte man out from under his bangs. "Two?"

Dorian's eyes were closed in bliss but he managed to murmur, "Uhhn... yes..." as he turned his head aside, moaning softly into the pillow.

There was something to be said for having a fastidious, clean-cut looking lover. Finger-nails that didn't scrape at all as the second slicked finger pressed in along with the one already there.

Another long, low moan and Dorian's hips pressed upwards off the bed, seeking his impalement. "Deeper... oh, please, deeper!"

Unsure of that for a moment, Klaus was driven on by the jolting of Dorian's hips, seeking deeper no matter what. So he pressed them both in deeper, feeling into silken heat carefully. "I won't hurt you?"

"No~ooo..." The blond man was struggling to hold onto coherency but it was fast escaping him. Just the thought of what was happening to him, and *who* was making it happen was nearly enough to put him over. He didn't want to go over yet, though. He wanted everything, and with Klaus that meant patience.

/Oh, but god, I just want him to *fuck* me - hard!/ Klaus could get rough at times, give the hardness Dorian wanted... but this was so new, and so different for him. So many morals codes and walls of honour were being shoved back and down to allow him to be with Dorian, let alone relax into the act yet... Two fingers twisted around, parting just a little, stretching him minutely. "Tell me... when I can..."

"Oh, now, please!" the Earl moaned, wrapping his legs around Klaus's hips. "Now..." Another twist, and a pull, and then the fingers we free of him, Klaus sliding his own hand to guide his cock towards the hidden goal. He was a queer, a fag, a fairy, just like Dorian, because the mere thought of being inside of Dorian that way already out pleasured the women that he had been with.

Dorian wanted to open his eyes, wanted to badly, but he knew that Klaus might find it even more difficult if he were watching him, so he held still for a moment, panting heavily and waited for the feel of the other man, sliding into him.

First it was just a light press of slicked, hot flesh against his entrance, then a more forceful urging as Klaus just pressed steadily, an almost teasing pressure. And then the pressure gained enough ground, blunt head sliding in past the quivering ring. Long fingers closed on his arms as Dorian gasped - at the length of him, the thickness, and how damned incredible it all felt. "Ohhhh... perfect..."

"'s so tight," Klaus shivered, back arched back as he stayed still, only half pushed into Dorian for a moment before good sense told him to move in all the way, engulfed in tight, tight heat.

Dorian had had many, many lovers but none that had invaded him with so utterly and completely. Because this time, it was an invasion of the soul. Dorian could feel himself giving up to the beloved man above him, knowing fully well that now, without a doubt, he would do *anything* for Klaus. Something ancient and primitive about what they were doing had cemented that bond far more than any words could have and it felt like the sweetest, most perfect thing he had even done in his life.

Hands grasped Dorian's hips, long fingers wrapping back to squeeze and guide them together. Klaus shifted back a tiny fraction, and then back in. A moment wasted to catch his breath again, and compose himself. "Dorian..."

"Mmmm?" Dorian was barely able to see straight, let alone converse, but he did his best, should Klaus be needing him for comfort or guidance. "Klaus...? Y' all right?"

"It..." Was amazing, over-whelming and intimidation all at once, and he made another shift that only sparked those feelings higher. "Ohh. Move... yet?"

"Yes," came the breathy reply, "I... would love it... if you moved..." Moved into and out of Dorian, touching him in a way that went against church, his family and probably his country... Touching him in a way that sent shivers up his spine, blessedly short-circuiting rationality and reason. He wanted to gift Dorian with words, those sweet noises Dorian gave him so often; but couldn't manage it, only a softly huffed breath, nodding to Dorian's encouragement. His hips pulled back, and then moved forwards into a heat that was better than simply silken.

Dorian met him, stroke for stroke, lifting up with his hips to meet each thrust as his lips began to wander over the warm skin of Klaus's throat. He suckled and kissed and then suckled more, loving the feel of his body moving just from the other man's need. In his life, Klaus realized he had fucked before. Rutted like animals, left disgusted. But never, though with trepidation, entwined himself so gratefully with another human, hips grinding together in a slowly rising dance while they pulled closer together. Gun-callused hands stroked over Dorian's chest with an exploring reverence of touch. "Mmh."

And Dorian, who had fucked so many men, was, for the first time, near tears because it felt so good. This was the man, and this man, who had so fundamentally changed his life, was a perfect fit. His pleasured noises continued, peak rising slowly as their movements quickened. It had never ended fast enough with women. Klaus had feared one day that he'd marry and have to preform such an act on a regular basis -- coldly, quickly, and then with a shower afterwards. It satisfied a bodily need every so seldom, but it always wounded other needs. Needs that, as he buried himself over and over again in pure British silk, were drowning in their own pleasure -- drawn from the wide pools of sapphire he peered down into.

Now, it was ending too soon. Caught in the thief's gaze, stolen entirely, his body was ready to leap the edge, but the rest of him -- hands holding the slender graceful waist, eyes drinking in an unknown purity, body for the pressure of form to form -- wanted it to go on forever.

The blond man's voice was hitching, soft and breathy with desire. "I... I... oh, love... I can't... " He forced himself to keep his eyes open as he came, crying out at the feeling, perfect and intensely powerful, and felt warm seed between their bellies, even as the lights flickered in overheated vision. "Ohhhhhh...."

Peeks of the noon sun through closed curtains were wildly out-rivalled by Dorian's face then, by the spark of *life* in his eyes when he came. A spark Klaus could see too little of as he pressed closer for a moment more, spine arching him nearer as he came into the blonde's body. "Leibe...!" It had caught him off guard, to be straining with pleasure one moment, and then tossed aside in it's fury, cast over an edge, and then sailing, floating down... "Ach, Dorian. Meine."

/Yes... yes, yes... *yours*.../ What was left of Dorian's mind at that moment couldn't have wished for a better word as he slipped his arms around Klaus's neck, burying his face against the silky, dark hair that spilled over it. "Yours..." he whispered, soft as a prayer. "Yours for eternity..." 'I Love you' might have been something Dorian would wait a long time to hear, but Klaus could show it, and say other things that he knew the sure meaning of. Dorian was his, only his -- just as he was Dorian's. No sharing, none of that mess; just a clear, comfortable oneness, like what had just passed...

He was still buried within Dorian's heat, just barely, and the tender embrace that he was swept into was just as hard to resist. Dorian felt whip-cord strong arms brush him against a broad chest, Klaus murmuring, "'s why I couldn't leave you."

"And why I had to come back. It just wouldn't work without you, love. You've become... completely necessary, I'm afraid. Can't do without you now... and you feel so *good*..."

"Silky... it's still a degrading nickname, but..." He bent his head to kiss Dorian's collar bone and the blonde man felt a small smile against the skin there, curling lazily. "But you are so smooth and... enticing." He'd wanted to say distracting, only it's connotations weren't what he wanted to say. Shifting, Klaus laid on his back, pulling Dorian atop him. It broke the connection of his body within Dorian's, but not that of holding Dorian close. "You're my new drug."

"Mmm... I'm *much* better for you," Dorian purred, teasing open-mouthed kisses over Klaus's lips. "And I'll make damned sure you never suffer withdrawals."

"As often as possible, then?" Klaus murmured, startling a little as a knock sounded on the room's door.

"Mr. Gloria...?" "We're still in here -- skip service today, come tomorrow," Klaus called out in short, quick barks of words.

"Thanks *so* much!" Dorian called as well, wondering if the woman outside could guess anything of what they'd been doing. He looked down at Klaus and smiled broadly. "Was I *terribly* noisy?"

"I couldn't tell." Not over the throb of blood in his skull and body, and a need to touch... what was sound compared to that?! Leaning up, on an odd and rare whim, Klaus kissed the other man. "Lay down. I think... that we can sleep a little more. then see what of today can still be salvaged." And if none could be salvaged, well... they could make use of it right where they were.

"We can *always* salvage things, love," Dorian said softly. "We're very, very good at that..." And with that Klaus was pressed back onto the bed and silenced.