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Author's Chapter Notes:
In this work of fiction, there may be any, none or all of the

Funerals, sandwiches, crying, sex, crankiness, whining, liquor, more sex, lots and lots of sex. Well. Yeah. I think that actually probably covers it. Oh. And James. And Klaus. And Dorian. And Dominic. And did I mention sex?? ~_^

EXTRA WARNINGS: If you have issues with James, you're going to want to avoid this like it's the plague. Pretty standard for tizzy, though ^_~

"I didn't know you had family in Germany," Dorian said in some surprise, blue eyes wide. "Shall I go with you?"

"No!" James denied quickly, shaking his head. "'s just some funeral of somebody I never knew."

"Then why are you going at all, Mr. James?" Dorian asked. "I should probably go with you -- I haven't seen the Major since that fiasco in Alaska..."

Oh, dear, oh, dear, he *couldn't* let Dorian go with him! "He left me money!" he improvised. "And it's really nearer Austria than anything else! You don't need to go!!!"

"You just don't want me off dallying with Klaus, do you?" Dorian teased lightly. "Well, all right, I suppose -- you go off on your trip..." /And I'll follow!/

"You have to promise me!" James told him sternly. "NO dallying, even while I'm gone!"

He didn't want his plot ruined and secondly he didn't want Lord Gloria running about wildly spending money, as he tended to do when given half a chance. "Not even a little, Jamesie?" Dorian teased him. "Just some light dallying...?"

James sniffed. "Not even a *little*!!" he declared. "I know how *your* dallying always ends -- in the *red*!!"

"Well, then don't be gone long," Dorian smiled, patting his head lightly. "Because it's so hard to resist red..."

Suspiciously, James glared at him with his one visible eye. "I'll bring you something red back if you don't spend any money!" he said reluctantly.

"But, darling, I have to spend a little money while you're gone," Dorian pushed further, "for things like food and gasoline..."

"There's plenty of food in the *kitchen*!" James wailed, stomping both feet as he shook his head. "And if you buy petrol, you'll just go out and spend money! No!"

"So I'm just supposed to stay *put* while you're gone?" The *glint* in Dorian's eyes told James that it simply wasn't going to happen.

With a huffy little sigh, James stomped a foot once more. "Just... just don't *break* us while you're out playing!"

"Thank you, darling," Dorian purred. "I just want to stake out a museum or two and see what I want." It seemed, once he'd weaseled that permission out of James that he was done with the little man! "You're so good, Mr. James."

"You only say *that* when you get what you want out of me," James grumbled.

"Don't be cranky, darling," Dorian smiled, unfolding himself from his comfortable sprawl on the sofa. "I do love you, and you *are* so good."

James sniffled, arms tightly crossed. "Well, just don't spend too much money while I'm gone! NO going out of country!"

"Yes, James," Dorian drawled as he shifted to the edge of the sofa, offering James a hug. "Be good, too, while you're gone. No stealing, I don't want to have to pluck you out of jail."

"Yes," he promised with a sigh. Oh, he *did* love Lord Gloria, only... Only Lord Gloria never offered him any attentions anymore at all, and, well, the *Major*...

The Major had at least done *it* with him. And he'd been kind! Surprisingly kind!!

Oh, it was all so confusing!

Dorian hugged him tightly, then patted his head. "Go, get your money and your free food, darling. And please get a plane ticket -- the last time you went somewhere in the cargo hold, you nearly died of the chill."

"I promise," James whispered a little sadly, then smiled at him. "No more cargo holds." Though something else really cheap, mind...

"Good -- I don't want a chilled little body being sent back to me instead of *you*. And do sneak up to first class once the plane starts. It's really a nice way to fly... Oh! I never did ask you, darling -- how did you survive being trapped with the Major for so long?" That hand on his head petted his hair softly.

"Ohhhh," James said dreamily, nearly purring. "He had horrible little food things with hot packets in them, sort of..." It was an answer. Kind of.

"Sort of?" Dorian tilted his head a little, partly concerned. "He didn't hurt you, did he, Jamesie? Or did he simply give you those... hot packets and leave you be?"

"He shared them," James said happily, warming at the mere *thought*. Oh, maybe he shouldn't go, Dorian was being so nice, but he *wanted* to go...

"He probably didn't want you haunting him for the rest of his life," Dorian smiled. "He shares sometimes -- in Alaska that first time, he shared the liquor we found."

"He's sort of nice," James murmured. "For a machine maniac."

"I should mark this down on the calendar," Dorian teased him softly, tapping his nose once. "You actually don't mind the Major!"

James smiled at him almost sweetly. "Not when you aren't running after him, I don't," he agreed.

"Mmm, I don't understand that, Jamesie -- why are you against me being happy?" Dorian asked softly. "I want him -- more than any painting in the world."

But Dorian didn't want *James* anymore. Sometimes, he really thought Lord Gloria must be stupid. "I hope you find some nice paintings while I'm gone!" he declared stiffly, turning to stomp away. He really didn't, but what else was there for him to say, truly?

Dorian just sighed, touching his back for a moment before sending him on his way. "Have a wonderful time, darling."

And James *fully* intended to!

His car had a dent in it.

On top of everything else that had happened that day -- which seemed to just be a conglomeration of horrors that happened to him simply because he was *alive* -- someone had dinged his beautiful car and driven off without a word.

He'd have to get the surveillance tapes to the parking garage and *get* whomever had dared to hurt his car. It was just the icing on Klaus's cake, and for a man who hated sweets, he wished someone else would get it for once, instead of him.

/At least all will be peaceful in the Schloss,/ he comforted himself as he keyed open the front door late, late that night.

"You CAN'T stay here!" his butler was bellowing, arms flailing so as to hide the person at whom he was yelling. "Master Eberbach will be home soon, so you have to get out!"

"I can *SO* stay here! I'm *not* leaving!" And *that* voice was too dreadful to even *contemplate*! It was the perfect end to a perfect day -- perfectly rotten, that was.

Eroica would probably drop down on him from the ceiling, and it was in that complete and utter state of defeat that he dropped his briefcase inside the door. "I'm home now. What the *fuck* is going on?"

At that, both men jumped, butler *and* James. "Sir," Dominic began, swallowing hard as he began to wring his hands together, "the little stingy-bug..."

"I'm not stingy, I'm economic!" James asserted with a stamp of his foot.

"...showed up and he wanted..."

"I got lost!"

"...to stay for the night, but..."

"My *uncle* died and I got *lost*!" Well, it wasn't a *lie*, really, his uncle *had* died, and he *had* left James a little bit of money, but he'd died almost a hundred miles south of Schloss Eberbach and James had most specifically come as soon as the funeral was over!

"...but I know you wouldn't want the nasty little..."

"I'm very *clean*, thank you!"

"...thing here and..."

"James, come here," Klaus sighed flatly, lighting a cigarette absently. No, there was no way to get enough nicotine into his system to make up for the stress that was coming down on him, but he could certainly make an attempt. "I'll put you up in a hotel for the night until you can get un-lost."

At that, James outright *wailed*. "I don't *want* to! If I have to stay in a hotel, HE'LL find out, and then he'll think I can't take care of myself at all! He *always* comes with me so I can't, and I only got to come away by myself because I promised I *could*, and what if he *does* find out, and then I'll just die because he'll never let me go anywhere again and...!"

"James!" A snap of voice, angry and wreathed in a breath of smoke. "All fucking right. You can stay here for the night!" Just to keep James from whining at him, he told himself as he tapped one foot menacingly on the crisp tile floor.

That seemed to clear up all of the wailing automatically; it was just unfortunate that it also gained him arms glomped happily about his waist, hugging tightly. "Oh, Major!" James sighed breathlessly. "Thank you, thank you! You're so wonderful!"

Dominic couldn't seem to re-hinge his jaw as he watched them, open-mouthed.

"Oh, fucking hell, get off me!" Klaus pushed at James's head, lips curled into a smile. "Go on, leave me be!"

"So where will I stay?" he asked eagerly, letting go of Klaus. "Somewhere wonderfully spartan and miserable? I bet you have lots of places here like that, up near the attic, maybe!" Oh, he was positively gleeful!

"You're getting nowhere near my room," Klaus bit out. "Understand that? Nowhere. Dominic, put him somewhere. I'm going to my study." 'To get drunk' wasn't said, but it was understood. It was, after all, Saturday night.

"I want near the attic!" James demanded as Klaus stalked off. "Somewhere really nice and close, and next to one of the chimneys! That's the best place!" From the sound of Klaus's order, it was also near his room, and James was *determined*.

"Fine," Dominic conceded in a whimper, shaking his head. "I'll show you there right now."

"Oh, how wonderful!" James cried happily, clutching his raggedy little bag tight in his arms as Dominic began to show him upstairs. "Is there going to be dinner?" After all, he *liked* free food...!

"Master Eberbach won't be eating tonight, so you'll have to go into the refrigerator yourself," Dominic said unhappily.

"Why not?" James prodded, curiosity digging in sharply. He wondered about Uncle NATO sometimes, really, he did!

"Why not what? Why won't the master be eating?" Dominic gave him a stern frown. "Because it's late and he wants to drink."

"Why?" James asked, visible eye widening. "Drinking is bad for you. And," he added, "it's expensive, too."

"Makes him feel better," the butler shrugged, sniffing unhappily. "The stairs are this way."

"Why does he feel bad?" James promptly asked as they began to ascend to the next floor. "I mean, he's... you know... the *Major*."

"So?" The butler was glaring at him again. "Everyone has shitty days and need to relax. He simply has a lot of them, all week long."

"So he drinks a whole lot?" James said timidly, finding it hard to imagine. Oh, the poor Major must be an alcoholic!

"Not excessively," the butler frowned deeper. "Why are you asking?"

"Because you said he did!" James replied impatiently. "Why else would I be asking?"

"I don't know," the butler frowned tightly, "But there are things I should attend to -- you can find a room up on the top floor yourself."

"Okay!" James agreed cheerfully, and ran off to do just that.

It took him nearly fifteen minutes to find the Major's room, but once he did, he promptly put his things in there and headed back down. First, he decided, he'd find the kitchen and scrounge up something to eat -- something *GOOD*, since he wasn't paying for it, after all. Then, he'd make a tray and take it to find the Major. It wasn't good to drink without eating!

The cooks in the kitchen, however, seemed less than happy to see him, and to see him diving through the refrigerator -- still, he had a mission for himself!

By the time he was done, the tray he held was huge, and it even had dessert -- something not very sweet, actually, a pound-cake made with lemon, probably something the kitchen had made for guests. Oh, well, he didn't care, and he even had some of that nasty Nescafe stuff that the Major liked, too. Maybe he wouldn't get tossed out on his ear!

There was only the object that stood in front of him next -- getting the tray up the stairs and finding the major! The stairs weren't really a problem, but every door beyond looked the *same* on the second floor!

Oh, he was just *never* going to find the Major! Or at least that was what he thought, right up until he noticed the sound of voices behind one of the doors -- the news was on. That must be where the Major would be!

When he peeked into the room he was met with a startling -- yet enjoyable looking -- sight. Klaus had taken off his jacket, loosened his tie, taken off his holster and was slumped in a large arm-chair, drinking *generous* amounts of some sort of liquor.

Well, he decided, maybe if the Major was drunk, it would make it easier to get him to eat something!

"'s that you, Dominic?" Klaus sighed, looking up and over at the door... and then down, glaring at James. "Fuck."

"I thought you might be hungry," James told him timidly, clutching at the tray. "I even brought nasty coffee and everything!"

"Shit, James, I don't want to hear your complaining," Klaus growled as he looked, glaringly at the television again. "I just want to drink."

"I won't complain!" James protested loudly. "Not if you promise to eat!"

Klaus just closed his eyes, draining the glass he'd been holding. "Fine. But I thought I told you to go away."

"I don't want to," James admitted. He was still a little scared of the Major, but he probably wouldn't shoot the little accountant, or so James hoped. Probably.

"Look, if this is over what happened in Alaska, James..." He didn't want to think about the horrid slip that was.

James only looked at him with that wide, wide blue eye, the other one hidden under a tumble of black hair. It *was*, and they both knew it, but neither one was willing to say it for certain. "You were nice to me," James said finally, and that was all.

"And?" the Major was irritated, clearly, from the way he slammed his glass back down and started to shakily refill it. "I don't want to think about it."

"So, don't," the little accountant told him with a shrug. "*HE* always pretends he didn't do it, either, so it won't bother me if you do."

"Oh, Christ..." Klaus sighed, closing his eyes tightly. "I'm not... Denying it because of that, I mean... Dammit. I'm tired and I just want to sleep. I'm not up to thinking, got it? 's not you in particular."

"Okay," James agreed simply. "But have a sandwich first." He'd put some together and added crisps and nasty coffee and a soda for himself. "It'll be better for you."

"Why do you want me to eat?" Klaus asked him in frustration, sitting up a little more. "Oh, put the damn tray down and sit down -- you don't have to keep standing in the door..."

"Because it's *bad* if you just drink and don't eat!" the man badgered, coming forward to hover over Klaus. "It's bad for your stomach. That'll cost you medical bills," he nodded, "so it's better to eat even if you don't want to!"

"You, the butler... how many other people can get on my back today?" the Major wondered rhetorically. "Sit *down*, James."

"Bad day, huh?" James asked him. "I have them sometimes. Can't even balance a stupid checkbook when it's really bad. Sometimes, it's in the red anyway. HE's expensive."

"I've always wondered... what just does he *do* with all the money you say he spends?" Klaus asked, finally taking a half of sandwich that was on the tray. "And set that thing down."

"Uses it to steal more stuff," James replied, setting down the tray obediently and taking one for himself, "'ccept he's stopped selling it off or even holding it for ransom. He's keeping it all, 'cause he likes it lots."

"Damn fool should sell some of it," Klaus shrugged, gesturing again for James to sit down. Except there really was no other place to sit down in the study. Just that *one* chair, because Klaus never had company that went into that room. "It'd be his own fault if you let him go broke for a few weeks to teach him a lesson."

"I couldn't do that," James declared, sitting on the floor beside Klaus's chair. "Wouldn't be right."

Klaus leaned a little, to look down at James better. "Why not?"

"We're both packrats, aren't we? Just different kinds," the little dark-haired man said with the beginnings of a smile. "I like money. He likes art. And we both want lots of it. So, how can I blame him? It just makes me mad when he uses all of the money to get more art and then I have to scramble to make more money again."

"But there's a point where... *sense* should kick in," Klaus mused, shaking his head as he sat back again.

An outright *gleam* came into James's eyes. "What do *you* like, Major?" he asked quietly.

"Weaponry. I've yet to make myself broke collecting them, though," Klaus said, taking a sip of the coffee James had brought, in favor of his vodka.

"You've got lots of money, though, right? And always have had?"

"Yes. It's the family fortune and it's carried through the generations," Klaus murmured, "I don't spend it, though. I get enough in hazard pay to run the estate."

Thin shoulders shrugged. "He and I, we've never had any," James explained. "I think his mother took it all when she divorced his father. Dunno. And my family never had any to start," he said quietly. "'s different when you've never had any at all."

"But I'd think... that would make you save more, and live a bit more rationally," Klaus told him, raising one eyebrow.

Another shrug answered him. "I *do*! I *do* save! But he wants beautiful things...."

"Then tell him he can have some, and sell some," Klaus murmured. "I'm not even going to think about that it's all stolen."

James shook his head, hair tumbling down into his eyes. "*You* just think I'm a stingy-bug when I tell him that, just like everybody else does!"

"I just suggested it," Klaus scowled. "Maybe you *are* stingy to a point of insanity. But *he* doesn't help."

That tiny mouth turned down, his scowl just as ferocious as Klaus's. "*You* think I'm crazy."

"No more than anyone else. Obsessive, yes," Klaus told him, and he knew obsession well enough -- weaponry, his job, and occasionally those thoughts that he didn't let himself think.

*That* gained him a smile, lightly curved, mischievous. "Yeah," James agreed, handing him another sandwich half. It was almost startling to realize that he'd already eaten the first. "There's cake, too. It's nice. Not sickly-sweet stuff, 'cause I know you don't like it."

"It was nice of you to... remember that," Klaus said, sounding a little surprised as he ate a bit more, took a drink of coffee. The liquor was starting to catch up with him at last, leaving him feeling a little muzzy at the edges. "I think... you got lost on purpose, didn't you?"

The look on James's face said as much, obvious guilt and just a little worry that perhaps Klaus would be pissed off at him. "Um..."

"Thought so." No anger, though. "If you had've just been lost, I figured you would have camped out in the gardens or something."

"Is it okay, then?" James asked him in a small voice. "I mean... you know."

"I don't know. Is what okay?" came the hesitant asking of clarification. "For you to be here? Fine."

THAT seemed to make the little man happy, his face fairly lighting up gleefully at those words. /You'll think it's fine later, too!/ he determined to himself. "Want some more of your nasty coffee? Why do you like it?"

"It's convenient," Klaus told him, moving his cup for James to pour more from the carafe he'd brought up. "And no one drinks it on me."

"Because it's really nasty," James agreed. "Even nastier than old bananas. There's a moment where they're perfectly ripe and not quite brown, but after they pass that... ugh."

"It's just *coffee*," Klaus sighed, taking another sip of the stuff. "It's not going to kill me like that rotten fruit you eat will!"

"It's perfectly ripe, *not* rotten!" James informed him firmly, finishing off his own sandwich. "It has to be that ripe for banana bread, too, you know."

"You're cheap. And not in moderation, either," Klaus pointed out. "And it's damn hard to work around that fact."

"And you're a machine maniac, but I'm not picking on you for it," James pointed out to him.

"A machine maniac?" Klaus asked, almost annoyed in tone. "What's that supposed to be?"

"*You're* crazy about machines," James declared. "You even chased Lord Gloria down the Autobahn in a *tank*! That's pretty crazy, isn't it?"

"It was for a mission," Klaus growled, frowning down at the little man.

"It was because you *liked* the *tank*," James corrected primly. "Expecting you to resist it would be like expecting Lord Gloria to pass by a Rosetti."

"So?" Klaus asked. "At least I enjoy my... strangeness with moderation." The similarities were too horrifying to think about -- that he and Dorian had so much in common?

"Driving a tank down the Autobahn is moderation?" James asked, blinking. "Well, if you say so."

"It was *for* a mission," he told James again, setting the coffee cup aside. "Look, why are you even arguing with me?"

"Because you *like* arguing, or you wouldn't yell at Lord Gloria all the time," James decided.

"I yell at him because he pisses me off constantly. You *whine* at him, don't you?"

"He yells at me," James said by way of agreement. "He deserves to be whined at if he's going to yell at me!"

"Why do the two of *you* fight?" Klaus asked, making a good guess in his mind as to what James's answer was going to be. But best to wait for the little thief to say it, then jump in with the next step.

There came then a reluctance to answer, James's fingers fiddling with the cake until finally he said, "He doesn't want to *do it* anymore. He's tired of me. I want to be more than a bean counter, except I'm not to him now."

*Not* the answer Klaus had expected. He'd expected to hear that they fought over money... *not* that. "Have you told him?"

There came a deep sigh from the little man. "All he wants any more is art and you. What would be the point?"

Klaus snorted, starting to his feet a bit unsteadily. "If you want something, go after it."

"I am," James declared firmly, rising up from the floor. "That's just what I'm doing!"

"What do y--" Klaus stood still, looking down at the little man who was all but beaming up at him. "Me?"

"Uh-huh!" James agreed. "When you don't yell, you're ever so nice, and you're very handsome and you wouldn't fuss at me about not letting you spend money because I work for Lord Gloria, not you, and you're very good at *it*," he declared with a vibrant blush. "And I'd be very quiet about it! I know how to keep my mouth shut!"

Klaus blinked. And blinked again. Then blinked a third time, as if awaiting James to sprout wings and fly off. But he didn't; instead the little man kept looking at him so very eagerly, leaving him disoriented. "James, it's... it's improbable."

"But not impossible!" James prompted quickly, beaming up at him. "Just unlikely! And if it's unlikely, why, then no one would ever guess, would they?"

No one would ever guess, the family name wouldn't be smeared, he'd still have his job... "No... no, they wouldn't guess."

"So..." There was an intense expression on the little man's face.

"Yeah." Klaus nodded tensely. "Yes. I... suppose you're right."

The look of breathless hope upon James's face was undeniable. "So we can go upstairs now!?" he asked with an almost wanton *glee*.

"This is awkward," Klaus murmured after a moment, "but yes."

The little accountant nearly squealed with joy and promptly flung himself at Klaus, arms and legs both clinging to him tightly. "OH, *YES*!!"

There was a LARGE part of Klaus telling him it was a bad idea, but there was enough of him saying that it was 'okay' to at least bring his arms down to keep James from falling off of him. "We'll go, all right?"

"Oh, Major, it will be *wonderful*, I promise!" James almost cooed. He was so *happy*!!!

Klaus simply wasn't *sure* on the matter, as he started towards the door and upon reaching it let James slip from his grasp. "Walk."

"I'd much rather stay right here!" James sighed, but he let loose and he hurriedly headed out into the hall. Ohhh! There was going to be *IT*, and it was going to be with Major *Eberbach* and *oh*, that felt so GOOOOOOOD with Major *EBERBACH*!!!

"After... last time, I think a bed would be better," Klaus told him softly as they walked towards the next set of stairs.

"Ohhh, *yes*, James agreed, shivering with wanton delight. "It'll be ever so nice, and with..." Well, with lubricant would be nice, too. He was glad he'd tucked his little bag into the Major's room! "Covers and *warm* will be nice, too!" he ended after that momentary pause in his own thoughts.

"Are you plotting something?" The major asked him suspiciously, stopping at the foot of the stairs. "If this is some sort of trap..."

"No!" James declared quickly, blue eyes wide and glistening. "Only I brought some stuff, in my bag, that will be nice, and I can't wa~it!"

"Be quieter," Klaus stressed softly, starting up the stairs at last in something akin to frustration. "All right?"

"Okay," James agreed happily, nearly running to keep up with Klaus as the man's long legs seemed to eat up the stairs before them. "I'll be quiet!"

/I doubt it,/ Klaus couldn't help but think. No, he was having the darkest, dirtiest, unthinkable thoughts... And at least he could satisfy them a little. This was certainly better than drinking. "Can I guess you already found my room?"

"Uh-huh!" James said happily. "I found it right off, way, way up! And I left my little bag in there, too!"

"I knew it," Klaus sighed, stopping at the top of the stairs. "I must be fucking slipping. This entire thing..." He'd *known* it was some sort of setup, but he just hadn't *known* it.

Sheepishly, James's fingers twisted all together. "I'm very good at misleading people, sometimes," he said, flushing a little. "I'm not a very good thief, though."

"A bit too likely to get distracted by something shiny," Klaus guessed again. That was a fascinating quality that he could understand, hints of childishness... /Fucking stop thinking right now, Eberbach./

Well, it was true. "Uh-huh," James agreed a little glumly. "He yells at me for it, too. I can't help I'm not a good thief."

"You're an accountant. He shouldn't expect you to be a thief, too." Klaus wanted to mention that Dorian had more than enough thieves as it was, and why he'd want more was past him, but he didn't say it.

"So you don't mind I'm not so good?" James asked hopefully as they reached the floor upon which Klaus's bedroom resided.

"Why should it matter to me?" Klaus asked, walking unerringly down the hall. Because if he stopped, well, whatever courage that was making him walk forwards would run away screaming.

"I don't know. It just might, so I thought I'd tell you," James said happily, pushing open the door to Klaus's room and slipping inside before him.

"You... seem comfortable with doing this." It was hard for Klaus to not note that as he closed his bedroom door behind him, turning to look at James. The little man seemed down-right *giddy*.

"Uh-huh," James agreed, already stripping. He was small and lovely, white skin that glowed pink in places, especially around perked nipples that were revealed as he shimmied out of the shirt that he wore. "I'm excited," he decided, nodding to Klaus as he meticulously folded his clothing. "You're nice, and it feels good, and..." He trailed off for a moment. "And I'm lonely," he said finally. "And you are, too, I think, so there's nothing bad about it, is there?"

"No, there isn't." Two lonely people finding safe comfort in each other. But James looked more like a child, small and lean, like a breeze could lift him off the ground and drift him like a leaf. "But... How old are you, James? You've... always looked the same and I've never been able to guess."

"Twenty-seven," the little man said in reply, visibly surprised at the question. "Why d'you ask? How old are you? Does it matter?" His head tilted to the side.

"Ten years older," Klaus murmured after a moment. "It's just... that you look like you're barely twenty." Barely sixteen, he *wanted* to say but didn't as he moved nearer to James, taking off his own shirt.

"It's 'cause I'm little, isn't it? I think," James said, watching him appreciatively as he stripped off the last of his own clothing. "My family always looked young. My grandfather didn't even have any gray hair when he died, and he was seventy-five."

"Then you're lucky," Klaus drawled as he slid his shirt off and folded it. His torso was all crisp muscles, with a few odd scars marking pale, smooth-looking skin. Of course Klaus wouldn't have much of a tan past his elbows -- the man seldom seemed to undress in public past occasionally taking his jacket off.

"Uh-huh," James agreed happily, and then he *jumped* Klaus, causing the man to topple over onto the bed on his back. "Hurry!" he whispered, squirming atop him already. "I'll take off your pants if you'll squirm back!"

"Oh, God..." Klaus's breath was a strained huff as he started to try to take his pants off with James atop him. "Calm down..."

"Only if you promise to hurry!" James whispered, fingers reaching between them, fumbling together with Klaus's on the fastenings of his breeches. "Ohhhh!"

"There's no need to rush," Klaus told him, finally rolling himself over James, pinning his smaller body to the bed. "All right? We're not going to freeze to death if we do this slowly."

"Ohh." It was a slow exhalation of breath, and James's eyes were nearly crossed.

Yes, indeed.

It was quite possible that he *had* died in Alaska and that this was heaven!

"Good." Klaus grunted that, then leaned on one elbow to work his pants off with his free hand. "I don't have anywhere to report to tomorrow. I've got free time."

James just couldn't help himself. "Ohhh, I've died and gone to heaven!" he said happily, shifting beneath him so that Klaus could kick off his trousers.

"Not sure about that, but..." Klaus got off his underwear, too, and dropped for a moment, barely supporting his own weight, to *savor* the press of his own body against James's.

That lasted only until the little man *squirmed*, leaning up to kiss him with lips that tasted vaguely of sweet lemon cake, just enough to be pleasant. Hands moved over his shoulders and down his arms, impatience slightly obvious in their touch. "So nice," James cooed.

Klaus looked a little breathless already, enjoying the *feelings* unhurried as they were. "I think... that I should learn how to properly give pleasure." /So instruct me./

The short-haired man nearly *purred* at those words. "Why not let's start with the obvious?" he sighed, seeking for Klaus's hand.

"Obvious...?" Klaus seemed puzzled -- there *was* an obvious, when there was so much to choose from? But James settled Klaus's hand over the smaller man's pectoral, fingers angled to touch a nipple.

That, apparently, was the obvious, that little nub of soft pinkish flesh that Klaus rubbed his thumb over.

It gained him a little sound, a writhe of hip and thigh, and the *look* on James's face that was all pleasure, completely and totally wanton. "Yes..." the man beneath him sighed, mouth trembling just a bit as he rubbed again. "Oh, just there. You can pinch a little, and pull just a tad, if you want." Even his *voice* shook!

"Must feel good," Klaus mused softly, taking the nub between thumb and fore finger and rolling it ever so slightly. "How's that?"

Blue eyes were almost crossed with pleasure. "*Perfect*!" James whimpered, shaking his head back and forth slightly. "It'd be nice if you kissed it, too...." he suggested.

Kissed it? Klaus wondered how that could feel good at all as he slid down ever so little and lowered his head to press a soft kiss to it. No, that wasn't right. There had to be more... he let his tongue dart out, a quick lap, testing. "This?"

That gained him another of those undulations, James giving an audible moan of pleasure. "Yes!" he pleaded. "Yes, yes, just like that, yes...!"

Strange to think that he could make someone else feel such pleasure that they'd moan for him, and plead. He was used to people begging him not to yell at them, but this... This was a heady and new thing. And Klaus was always the best at what he did -- so he decided that it would be no exception, this thing he did with James. The lick became more directed, right over the nub, and finally he took it into his mind to suck, slow draws of that nub as he pinched and twisted its mate with his fingers.

By the time he drew back, he'd gained such soft, impassioned mewls from James that there was no question of his enjoyment. Indeed, the press of an erection to match his own pushed against his hip in a rhythm, and the small man had his lower lip bitten tightly between his teeth as if to keep from yelling out to the world at large how good it had felt.

Klaus slid a hand between them to still James's motions, and on a second thought closed his hand around the smaller man's hard cock. "And this?"

"YES!!!!" James's head flung back and forth almost violently, entire body arching up off of the bed.

"Should I... treat it just like your nipples?" Klaus asked him almost wickedly, slipping backwards to kiss down the center of James's stomach.

"I'll just die if you do!" James moaned, shuddering. "Yes, yes, yes, *please*!!!" His fingers had worked into Klaus's black hair, tugging lightly at the strands, and they seemed to urge him ever onward.

"You'll die? 's that a good thing?" Klaus *felt* himself smile as he kissed lower, over the younger man's flat stomach and to the neatly kept black down that surrounded the cock his hand was closed around.

"Uh-huh!" It was a whimper, but those blue eyes were open, glassy, and *looking* at him. "Ohhh, it feels so good..." Everything felt good to James. He was hypersensitive, and he'd been without for so *long* aside from that once...!

Carefully, Klaus licked the tip, before tentatively taking the swollen head between his lips, sucking a bit too hard. How strange it was that the motions came so *easily* once he started, and how eager his partner was! That helped to make it less a thing to think about, fret over, and all of James's little cries and caresses over head and shoulders seemed meant onto to urge him onward.

His tongue rubbed against the soft slit, still sucking steadily as he stroked his fingers over James's narrow length. There probably had to be more that he should've been doing, but he assumed from the *noises* James was making that he was all right.

Little shudders trembled through James as he gave sounds that were pure approval, his whole body devoted to the pleasure Klaus was giving him. "Ohhh," he whimpered. "That's just right, that's just perfect, I can't bear it, oh, I can't, I can't, ohhhh, *Major*!"

Klaus was vaguely aware of tasting a spurt of *something* on his tongue, but it didn't stop him from sucking or stroking, and didn't stop his other hand from cupping James's balls, squeezing gently in time with his sucks. It felt strangely good, too, to be giving such sensations.

The sound of James sobbing washed over him, hands tugging at him tightly. "Please." It was whimpered, almost unheard, and he could tell that the little thief was growing frantic. "Please, please, *please*!"

Please? What was he asking 'please' for...? No, he had to ask, lifting his head from the steady ministrations he'd been giving. "What?"

"Please, I want more," James whined a little greedily, shuddering in the sudden lack of Klaus's mouth. "Please I want to touch you, please I want to feel you, please, I need you *more*...!"

"More how?" /Just ask,/ he wanted to say, still not moving from hovering close over the tip of James's cock.

"Like before," James pleaded, squirming as Klaus's breath spilled over him, exciting him further. "I need you, I need it, *please*...!"

"But there's no rush this time," Klaus chided him, giving James's bobbing cock-head a final touch of his lips, before getting off the bed. "Is there... something we should use?"

Giving another of those little sounds that only made Klaus hotter, James turned onto his belly. "Uh-huh," he agreed, "in my bag. It's under the bed somewhere..." That said, he moved forward and leaned over the edge to peer beneath it.

Klaus knelt smoothly, a bare hand touching James's back as if to keep him from falling off the bed. "I see it -- hold on." Hopefully no moths would escape when he opened it...

James gave a little laugh as one did once it was in his grasp and opened, but his hands were greedy as he reached into it. A little tube was withdrawn with no small amount of satisfaction and waved about. "This is what we need!" he said happily before leaning over the edge of the bed once more and leaning to reach where Klaus still stood, kissing the tip of the German man's weeping erection.

"Oh, God..." Klaus shifted forwards, moving to blanket James again. "Now -- what's that tube for?"

"To make it all slick!" James said excitedly, laughing beneath him. "So it feels *good* when it goes in," he purred.

Last time had been *good* but Klaus had an inkling in his mind that it could've been better, smoother... "Right," he agreed, opening the tube and squeezing some of the clear stuff onto his palm.

"Now, put your fingers in," James ordered him firmly, knees parting widely around Klaus's hips. He looked so very *debauched*, lips reddened, eyes gleaming, and it was without a doubt that he made it easy for Klaus to do just what he wanted.

Klaus seemed to finally put the pieces together. Quickly he slicked the fingers of one hand, and almost absently stroked his cock as he slid lubricant-wet digits down behind James's soft balls. One finger at first, testing and exploring against his tight puckered entrance, before sliding in. "Like this?"

"Ohhhh, *GOD*, yes!" came the cry, accompanied by an arch of James's back that pressed them tightly together. "Yes, yes, yes, *MORE*!"

"More...?" Klaus wasn't sure what exactly that cry was trying for, but he pressed his finger in as far as possible, stroking within the tight-hugging clutch of heat.

"More, I want more!" the little man pleaded, squirming valiantly. Oh, it felt so magnificent! "A little higher, little, little... AHHH!!!" Oh, Klaus had found it, and his cock jumped wildly as the tip of a finger caressed deep in him. "AHHH, AHHH, *AHHH*!!!!"

It wasn't a *scream* of pain -- he'd heard that from James before, and other noises of discomfort, unease and anger. No, this was a sound foreign to his ears, unless he counted the hazy moments in that sleeping bag. "Shhh... shhh, you'll bring the servants up looking for me!"

"So good!" James cooed, head tossing back and forth. "Please, please, *more*..." More and he'd try to be quiet, he really would. "I'll try...!"

Klaus let his finger caress over that nub, even as he pressed a second finger into the tightness. "Quiet," he urged again, softly as he rocked those two fingers in time once they were both seated in. "Bite your hand if you have to."

It was a good suggestion, and so James shoved a knuckle into his mouth and bit down, muffling the next raucous sound that escaped from him. The fingers in him seemed to be driving him harder and faster, and it was going to be a miracle, he knew, if he didn't come before Klaus was in him! "Mmmm!"

"Is it enough yet?" Enough of whatever sensation that was driving James to distracting squirms beneath him, enough for them to go to the next step.

Those fingers came loose, covered in the marks of James's teeth. "Yes!" he panted. "Put it in, do it, *do* it, please, oh, *GOD*...!"

"Shhh!" He worked his fingers loose as quickly as he dared to, stroking the pads of them against the tight ring on their way out. Clean still, which surprised him when he'd been expecting anything but. "I just... push in, like last time?"

"Uh-huh!" James panted enthusiastically, wrapping his legs tightly around Klaus's hips. "Just like that!"

Carefully, Klaus positioned himself to drive into the thin little body, nudging the head of his cock against James's entrance. It had felt so good last time, and this time everything was slow and more enjoyable... "Let me kiss you," the Major murmured suddenly, leaning down in a motion that matched the first real press of his cock.

The mere *tenderness* of that question melted James and he gave his mouth to Klaus even as the Major began to push. His moan became swallowed between them as he arched up, took the whole of the other man in to the root, shuddering with the pain and pleasure of it. "Hmmmm!"

So damn good, and Klaus understood why the act was such a much sought thing in the world. James's mouth, when not whining about money, was a *sweet* thing to kiss, hot and responsive as he sank into tight heat until he was pressed hips to narrow bottom.

The whispers against his lips were pleas, prettily given, and James's arms clutched at him tightly, rapaciously. There was no denying that he was desperately *needed* in the haven of those arms, and the way the slim back arched, pushing up against him, said even more than the tiny whimpers that seemed to go straight through him and make him tremble with need for more. "Please, Major, *please*, Major, *please*, Klaus..."

"I can move?" Klaus whispered, breath a wild pant even in his own ears -- James was so *tight* around him, and so close against him that it felt like there was no space left for him to simply be himself.

"Move!" It seemed urgent, a begging, pleading sort of word, and James's whole body seemed to flex up to meet him. "Oh!"

Backwards, first, away from that heat because he was already buried deep into it. Then in again, until he was rocking, stabbing into James's arched frame. Every push seemed to pitch the body beneath him further up the bed, sending the little accountant into a heated fever of need. Fingers clutched at his shoulders, pulling him close, and the bed itself rocked despite the fact that it was impossibly heavy.

"Yes!" James gasped, shuddering wildly. "Yes, yes, yes, *YES*!!!"

Fast, sharp and heated motions drove Klaus on, pummeling with speed into James against his own wish to go slowly. That took reason to manage, and Klaus just wanted to bury himself into James, stay there forever if it was possible... No, he wouldn't think on that, or the way the head-board jolted against the bare wall behind it with every stab of his hips into the squirming frame beneath him. So close now, pistoning to oblivion...

"Fuck, *YES*!!!" One more yell, and James came, spilling between them and clamping down tight. His hips didn't stop moving, though, only kept on and on, and he *clutched* at Klaus, fingers digging tightly into his arms. "UNH!!!"

The jab of small fingers, the clutch around him and the grate of two bodies against each other was what finally, finally drove Klaus over. It was more exhilarating than being caught in a fire-fight, intense as being shot when he spilled into James's small body. The sensation *hurt* as much as it felt good, too perfectly intense by the time he slumped atop James, panting for breath and feeling like he was dying from exertion.

It was heaven.

It was hell.

"Oh, my God. Oh, my God, my God, no..."

"'s you, James?" Klaus asked muzzily as he lifted his head from where it had fallen to the crook of the smaller man's neck. Somehow, hearing that voice, whatever it was, was enough to stir him to shift off of James, pulling out of the still tight, delicate orifice that clutched around him. The soft groan that left them both was hard to hide.

"Uh-uh. 's not me," James said in a tiny voice. "It's..."

"Oh, no, oh, no, oh, my *GOD*, how *could* you!?"

"*HIM*," James whispered, trying to hide behind Klaus.

Oh, Christ. Klaus didn't say that -- the shock of turning over, looking towards his one small window, and seeing a blond figure in a slinky black catsuit was enough to still his tongue entirely.

Dorian, the beautiful, unacceptable, untouchable Dorian had just seen. Who knew how much? "Dorian..."

"How *could* you?" Dorian whispered, hands coming up to cover his mouth, momentarily grateful that he was still half-hidden in the curtains. Maybe, if he was lucky, they wouldn't see... "*Both* of you... How *could* you!?"

"I didn't mean it, well, maybe, I did, but you, and I, and then," James said, and then promptly burst into tears.

"Ohh, Christ," Klaus muttered, standing up and quickly shimmying his pants back on, sans underwear, but at least it was coverage... "James, don't cry -- Dorian..." There was nothing to say. It was a horrifying realization, but there was nothing to say that would give Dorian comfort. Because he'd just fucked James and enjoyed it. The little man was... reactive, wonderful and patient, if *loud*.

"How *could* you!? I took you in when no one else would have you. *I* didn't leave you on the streets!" Dorian whispered shakily to the sound of James's rapidly growing hysteria. "And you! *YOU*!! How many years, how long have you been fucking him, how *long* when I've been telling you I love you, how *long*, damn you, Klaus!"

"Not... long, it's..." he gestured vaguely as he moved to cover James with the bedding, trying to give him some small comfort. "This... just started."

"You said you were coming to a *funeral*, you bloody little git!" Dorian choked out, shaking his head wildly.

"I d-d-d-d-d," James stuttered before dropping back into hysterical little hiccoughs.

"He *did*," Klaus muttered, giving Dorian the oddest vicious glance. "And how..." There. He could touch his anger again, feel it palpably. "And how fucking long were you watching?"

"L-long enough," Dorian whispered, his own tears welling up. Dammit, he *hated* crying, but... but Klaus was breaking his *heart*, and taking his accountant away, to boot, and it was just awful!

Crying. Klaus was going to be cried at from two sides now, and he couldn't *stand* crying. "Dorian... dammit, get over here."

"N-n-n-no!" Dorian hiccoughed, and it was the most terribly *pitiful* thing Klaus believed he had ever seen!

"God-dammit, get over here now!" Klaus wasn't willing to abandon James to get to Dorian, and he was firm on that stance in his mind.

Hesitantly, Dorian took a step, pale and shaky, and his words were barely heard over the force of James's weeping. "*Why*, damn you? *W-WHY*??"

"Because he didn't expect great feats of heroics from me, or humiliate me in public and taunt me in front of my subordinates. Now dammit, get *over* here."

At that, Dorian promptly burst into tears, and poor Klaus had it from *both* side -- muffled wailing from James, who was pressed against his back and trembling, accompanied by horrible little hiccoughing breaths hidden behind Dorian's hands.

Hell no longer was a good enough description.

"Dorian... James..." What was he doing there? He *needed* to be getting into his bathroom for a cold shower, that's where he needed to be! Carefully he backed up a little, snagging Dorian around the waist and James around his shoulders. "Dammit, stop crying."

"I c-c-c-c," James declared, clutching at him tightly.

Trembling, Dorian buried his face against Klaus's shoulder, weeping with such a terrible, quiet desperation that it was horrible.

He was half glad he didn't have a shirt on yet, because it would've been soaked through with tears. "Oh, dammit..." There was nothing to be done but *let* them cry and hope they finished soon, because obviously reasoning was pointless.

Dorian was the first to stop, though the listless, boneless feel of him and the remnants of his shivers were almost painful to Klaus. James, it seemed, was determined *not* to stop, for he still clung to Klaus tightly.

/Oh! Lord Gloria will never ever ever forgive me and he'll throw me out and the Major will be so mad with me and it's all just *awful*!/ Awful and, perhaps, just a tad melodramatic.

"James... dammit, James, stop crying," Klaus tried to sooth, rubbing one hand along the little man's slender side vigorously, as if that would shake him from crying. "Sobbing your brains out won't do anything. It'll make you sick."

"E-e-e-e-ever-ee-e-e-e-ething's a-a-all a m-mmmmmmess!" he wailed, hiding his face in Klaus's neck.

"Shhh.... 'dun know what's such a mess, James, but *stop* crying..." More stroking along the man's side, until he simply just held him closer, Dorian too. "God."

Tiredly, Dorian sighed. "It *is* a mess, darling," he whispered, keeping his eyes closed. "You're fucking my goddamned *accountant* when I've wanted for years that you be fucking *me*. How much of a mess can that *not* be?"

"Your accountant got tired of just being a penny pincher for you," Klaus shrugged, patting Dorian's back a little. He wasn't going to cry like they were -- he was just thinking highly of returning to his original plan of getting drunk. "'s... ja, 's a mess."

"James!" The sheer *hurt* in Dorian's voice was unavoidable. "You *know* you're more than that! You know you're not just... just..."

"Yes, I am!" It was shrilly spoken, almost hysterical. "You never do it anymore, you never say you love me, it's always art and him, and if he's nice to me, then why shouldn't I!? Why!? It's nice, being wanted, being *touched*..." If not being loved.

Klaus nodded, patting Dorian again. "He said it better than I did. Declarations of love do me no good if you can't be discrete."

The sheer *pain* in those impossibly blue eyes was undeniable. "But you could fuck my accountant, instead? I can't exactly say I'm *getting it* here, darling!"

Klaus decided then that he was not only in hell, but in a *hole* in hell, digging himself simply deeper and deeper. "We... did this in Alaska to keep warm. And he didn't tell anyone. Didn't scream 'I love Klaus Heinz von dem Eberbach' at the top of his lungs in front of my fellow officers." 'So it was safe to do it again' was left unsaid.

"You DIDN'T!" Dorian yelled.

"WAAAAHHHHH!" wailed James.

That apparently had just been one-more shovelful of dirt. "Oh, dammit, Dorian!! Why're you crying? James, *calm down*." There was a commanding snap to his words, one given often to his men.

"You *didn't*!" Dorian cried again. "How *could* you!? Why am *I* crying!? Oh, *I* don't know, let me try this on for size! The man I've loved for nearly twelve years is fucking my GODDAMNED ACCOUNTANT, WHO'D GOTTEN TOO COMPLETELY FUCKING OBNOXIOUS TO *BEAR* FUCKING ANYMORE!!! LET'S TRY THAT ONE!!!"

Klaus slapped him. Not as hard as he could've, because it had taken enough effort to get his arm free of James to make the move, while he still held the earl. "Do you want to keep throwing a fucking fit, or actually work something out?"

The sheen of tears spilled over wildly, Dorian's face crumpling with misery. "I'd like," he whispered shakily, "to just go and slit my fucking wrists right about now, but I'm not quite sure if I can actually do it. Maybe you'd do it for me?"

James, now pale, gasped and shook his head wildly. "No, no, no! Don't do it, don't do it, I'm sorry!" He shuddered, miserable. "I'll do anything, I'll go away, just d-don't...!"

"Fucking melodrama, like this Dorian, 's just why I never did," Klaus sighed, standing up in quick frustration. He'd tried comforting them. He'd tried yelling at them. He'd tried batting Dorian around a bit, which usually worked.

Only none of it was.

Looking at both of them, perched on his bed, though, gave him an idea. "Get undressed," he muttered brusquely.

"Why?" Dorian hiccoughed. "S-so you can hit me someplace else!?"

James was catching on, though, and he honestly thought his breath was going to just STOP right then and there. "You... I..." he babbled. "Ohhh!!!"

"You can do that or I can toss you out a window," Klaus murmured blandly, crossing his arms over his chest. "Your choice. 's the fifth story, after all."

Dorian sniffed. "I could crawl out before you managed to toss me..."

"Just get undressed, dammit," was the major's impatient answering growl.

For a moment, it truly seemed as if Dorian was going to be stubborn and disobey him. It really did; but then he stood, and pulled the ringed zipper that held his catsuit shut slowly down, hands shaking. "Is this what you want?" he asked, eyes suddenly blazing fire, and whether it was anger or passion, who knew?

"It's why you snuck into my bedroom in the first place, isn't it?" Klaus asked him archly, as if Dorian's question had been a stupid one. "Get into bed."

"What if I don't want to?" Dorian asked a little sullenly.

"Get in the bed, you great floundering *git*," James told him firmly, rubbing his tear-stained face. "Don't be such an idiot!"

Klaus seemed to agree, grabbing Dorian's shoulder and pushing him in a little. "It's what you wanted, right?"

"Yes!" Dorian admitted reluctantly. "But I rather thought it would be you, me, *alone*, not accompanied by my accountant!"

"James wants you. I want you. We made due with each other, for whatever reason why," Klaus shrugged, stripping off his pants quickly.

"You *don't* love me anymore," James said in a tiny voice. "So I don't see what's so wrong about wanting comfort."

"You *brat*," Dorian declared, glaring at him and promptly pouncing right on top of the little man, holding him down despite his kicking. "I ought to beat you!"

"You'll do no such thing, you pervert," Klaus growled as he slid into the bed beside them. "I'll pin you both."

Two pairs of blue eyes turned his way, Dorian's wide, James's wider. "Promise?" James whispered ecstatically even as a single blond brow rose, Dorian's misery giving way to some form of amusement -- very much part of his nature.

"Really, now?" he drawled, looking at Klaus saucily.

"If you can damn-well be discrete..." Klaus leaned near to Dorian, lips almost touching the other man's. "Tell me you can be."

For a moment, the eyes only inches away from his own darkened, pupils expanding slightly with a sudden wash of emotion. "Nobody's caught Eroica yet," he noted in a clipped, quiet sort of voice. "What do you think?"

Klaus wanted to tell him that he still thought Dorian was indiscrete - - that thieving and affairs were two different matters entirely... But he saved himself pain and agony of talking through that by simply leaning that tiny fraction and pressing his mouth to Dorian's lightly.

It gained him a *sound*, a most enticing sort of sound, barely given at the back of Dorian's throat. It also got him a response that was so slow it was barely felt, but *very* much enjoyed.

"Ohhhh," James whispered. That was very pretty. It made him feel completely unnecessary, but... but it was *so* pretty!

"Lay back," was Klaus's soft coaxing as he broke the too-short kiss. "And learn to share."

That made him sound greedy, like James, and Dorian couldn't help but laugh and obey, rolling halfway onto James, who yelped. "That's my leg!"

And then Klaus was on them *both* -- kissing Dorian again, but he drew James nearer with a hand that he shot out to grab the little man with. Dorian *would* learn to share, to let James have as much as he got himself.

There was no other way for it to be.

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