𝒇𝒊𝒗𝒆 ━━ i do know that you deserve more
₊ ⊹☕˚୨

❝ ...home? ❞

❝ home. ❞

The next few days were a rollercoaster of attacks of withdrawal. Klaus was a complete mess, his body craving the drugs it had been deprived of, his mind a chaotic mess of cravings and nightmares. He was moody and volatile, snapping without provocation, going from tears to rage in the span of seconds.

Shayan endured it, staying by Klaus' side through it all. He knew that this was a part of the process, that Klaus was going through hell right now, and he was determined to see it through till the end.

There were moments when Klaus was lucid, moments when he looked at Shayan and seemed to remember who he was, who they were to each other. In those moments, he would apologise, his eyes downcast and his voice hoarse.

"Don't apologise," Shayan would always tell him. "You have nothing to apologise for. You're just going through withdrawal, you'll be better soon. I'm right here, I'll stay with you."

Klaus would nod, his eyes dropping in shame, but the next attack of withdrawal would come and he was back to being a mess of tears and curses, sometimes lashing out at Shayan, but never once landing a blow.

Shayan weathered it all, never leaving his side, never faltering. He was Klaus' rock, steady and unwavering. He ignored the insults, the name-calling, the hateful words. He knew that Klaus didn't mean any of it, that it was just the withdrawal talking.

The worst moments were the nights, when Klaus would wake up screaming, his body drenched in sweat, his eyes wild with fear. Shayan would hold him through it, whispering reassurances, pulling him close, grounding him.

"You're safe," he would whisper, over and over again. "I'm here, you're safe, I won't leave you." And slowly but surely, Klaus would calm, his body relaxing, his breaths becoming more even.

As the days went by, the attacks became less frequent, less severe. Klaus was still a mess, still struggling with the cravings and the nightmares, but he was improving, slowly but steadily.

Shayan was cautiously optimistic, seeing the progress Klaus was making, feeling the changes in his moods, his energy levels. He knew they were almost there, almost at the end of this dark tunnel.

The final day arrived, and Klaus was exhausted, both physically and emotionally. He was still struggling, but he was more like himself now, less volatile, less lost. "You're doing so well," Shayan murmured, holding Klaus close. "Just a little more, and you'll be free of it."

"I'm tired," Klaus admitted, his voice little more than a whisper. His body was practically boneless in Shayan's arms, the exhaustion and the stress of the last few days finally catching up to him.

"I know," Shayan said softly, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "It's almost over, just hold on a little longer."

"What then?" Klaus asked, his voice almost petulant, a hint of his usual sass returning. "What happens once it's over? I'm still in your apartment, freeloading. I've got nothing, nowhere to go..."

"You're not going anywhere."

Klaus looked up at him, surprised by the firmness in Shayan's voice. "You want me to stay here?" he asked, not quite able to hide the hopeful tone in his voice.

"Of course," Shayan answered, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You think I'm going to kick you out? After all of this?"

Klaus' expression softened a fraction, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "And you won't get tired of me? Won't kick me out when you realise what a mess I really am?"

"More than you already are?" he smiles softly.

Klaus huffs, but there's no real heat behind it. "Very funny," he mutters, his eyes dropping, a shadow falling across his features. "But I'm being serious, you know. I'm not exactly an easy person to deal with.."

Shayan shifts closer, taking his hand in his. "I promised I'd help you, I'm not gonna give up just because it gets hard."

Klaus looks up at him, his eyes searching his face for any hint of deception or untruth. He finds none. "Why?" he asks, his voice soft, almost vulnerable. "Why are you bothering? I'm just some useless druggie, why do you care so much?"

Shayan doesn't hesitate. "Because I care about you," he says, his voice firm but gentle. "This isn't just about helping you get off drugs. I care about you, Klaus. Genuinely."

Klaus' breath hitches, his eyes widening in surprise. He looks as though he's about to protest, about to dismiss Shayan's words as false, but then he sees something in his eyes, something that tells him that Shayan is being sincere.

"And until the day comes that you tell me to leave, I'm not going anywhere."

Klaus' expression crumples, a tangle of emotions crossing his face. He looks like he's about to cry, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. He tries to speak, to say something in response, but the words get caught in his throat, choking him.

Shayan's features soften. "Don't look at me like that."

Klaus lets out a huff that's almost a sob. "Like what?" he asks, his voice thick with the effort of holding back tears.

"Like that," he says. "I don't want you to be sad, if you cry you're gonna kill me."

Klaus huffs again, his expression shifting into something more like a pout. "What, big, strong Shayan can't handle a few tears?"

Shayan rolls his eyes but there's no heat behind it. "I'd take getting shot over seeing you cry any day."

Klaus looks like he wants to protest, wants to roll his eyes or snark a response. But his expression crumbles before he can say anything, and tears start rolling down his cheeks, silent but steady.

Shayan's features tighten. He cups Klaus' cheek, wiping the tears away. Klaus leans into the touch, his eyes squeezed shut, his lips pressed together in a desperate attempt to stop crying. It doesn't work, more tears streaming down his face, his body shuddering with the force of his emotions.

"Hey," Shayan murmurs, his voice soft, gentle, "it's okay. It's okay." He keeps wiping the tears, but they keep coming, no matter how hard Klaus tries to hold them back.

"I'm sorry," Klaus mutters, his voice thick with tears. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry.." he repeats it over and over, like a litany, as though he's apologizing for more than just crying.

Shayan shushes him, shaking his head. "Don't apologise for crying," he says softly. "You've been through a lot, it's okay to feel things. It's okay to cry."

Shayan places a kiss on his forehead. Klaus lets out a shuddering breath, his eyes fluttering closed at the gesture. He leans further into Shayan, seeking comfort and warmth, his body trembling with the force of his tears.

Shayan pulls him even closer, wrapping his arms around him, holding him tight. He doesn't say anything, just rubs Klaus' back in soothing circles, letting him cry it all out.

Klaus buries his face in Shayan's shoulder, his tears soaking into the fabric of his shirt. His shoulders shake with the force of his sobs, his body shuddering against Shayan's chest. Shayan just holds him, not saying a word, not trying to shush or comfort him. He knows that Klaus needs this, needs to let it all out, to purge all the emotion and stress and pain that's been building up inside him for so long.

It feels like forever until the sobs subside, until Klaus' body stops shuddering, until his breaths even out. He's exhausted, both physically and emotionally, his body limp and boneless in Shayan's arms.

Shayan pulls back a little, gently lifting Klaus' face so he can look at him. Klaus' eyes are swollen, his face red and blotchy, tear tracks drying on his cheeks. He looks utterly spent, like every last drop of energy has been leached from his body.

"You okay?" Shayan asks, his voice soft. Klaus gives a shaky nod, a tiny movement, his head dropping back down onto Shayan's shoulder.

Shayan goes back to rubbing his back, his touch light and soothing. It's a long while before Klaus speaks again, his voice roughened from crying. "I'm sorry," he mumbles into Shayan's shoulder. "I got your shirt all wet.."

"It's just a shirt."

Klaus gives a small huff at that. "It's probably an expensive shirt," he grumbles, burying his face deeper into Shayan's shoulder.

"This?" he lifts the shirt. "Thrift store, 3 bucks."

Klaus lifts his head again, his expression a mingling of annoyance and amusement. "You shop at thrift stores?"

"They have some good stuff sometimes."

"And you're rich," Klaus adds, his voice a tad accusatory.

"You want me to show you how rich I am?"

Klaus looks up at him, his eyes narrowing. "You got a gold toilet or something?" he asks, his voice laced with sarcasm.

"No, but there's a super mall in town and you need clothes."

Klaus' eyebrows raise in surprise. "You...want to buy me clothes?" he asks, sounding almost hesitant, as though he isn't sure he heard right.

"You can't keep wearing mine, you'll drown in them."

Klaus looks down at himself, at the oversized hoodie and sweatpants he's wearing. "I kinda like drowning in them," he mutters, a hint of a pout on his lips. "Besides, don't you think I look good in them?" He attempts a smirk, but he looks too tired to pull it off properly.

Shayan rolls his eyes, a fond smile on his lips. "You look adorable," he says, just to see the indignant pout on Klaus' face.

As expected, Klaus' expression scrunches into a pout, a mixture of annoyance and embarrassment. "I do not look adorable," he protests, his voice almost petulant.

"Yes, you do," Shayan states matter-of-factly, loving the way Klaus' cheeks flush red at the words.

Klaus huffs, looking away. "Shut up," he mutters, but there's no real heat behind it. He's too tired to pretend to be annoyed, too drained and emotionally wrung out to protest any more.

Shayan just grins, satisfied with his teasing. "C'mon, let's get you into bed," he says, already starting to rise.

⋆⋅ ━━━━ ⋅⋆

The next morning was a Sunday, the only day of the week that the café was closed, which meant Shayan got a few extra hours of sleep. When he finally stirred, the sun was high in the sky and light was streaming in through the windows. Sitting up, he glanced at the clock on his bedside table - half past ten.

He felt more well-rested than he had in a long time. Stretching his arms over his head, he got out of bed, his bare feet padding softly on the carpeted floor. The first order of business, like everyday, exercise.

He changed into a a pair of joggers, discarding his sleep shirt, and proceeded to do his morning workout routine. It was invigorating, the familiar motions and exercises both relaxing and energizing.

He was in the middle of a set of pull ups, the bar hanging from the corner of them room, when Klaus walked in. Shayan, mid-pull-up, didn't notice him immediately, too engrossed in his exercise. It was only when he dropped back down and turned around that he saw Klaus standing awkwardly in the doorway.

He was wearing Shayan's clothes again - a long sleeved tee and sweatpants several sizes too big. He had clearly just woken up as well, his hair a messy tangle and his eyes half-lidded with sleep.

"Morning," Shayan said, trying not to let the sight of Klaus in his clothes affect him. "Sleep well?"

Klaus nodded, rubbing a hand over his face. "Yeah," he said, his voice still hoarse from sleep. He blinked a few times, his eyes gradually coming to focus, and then looked at Shayan properly. "Uh..." he trailed off, his gaze falling to Shayan's bare chest before quickly darting away.

Shayan noticed the look, the quick flick of Klaus' eyes, the pink tinge to his cheeks. He had to swallow the urge to smirk; Klaus was too damn adorable when he was flustered.

"You, uh, working out?" Klaus asked, clearing his throat and looking pointedly at the exercise bar hanging from the ceiling.

"Yeah," Shayan answered, grabbing a towel from a nearby chair and wiping sweat from his face and chest. "Can't exactly maintain this without a little effort."

Klaus' eyes flicked down to Shayan's abs, lingering just a moment too long before darting away again. "Right," he mumbled, his blush deepening.

"You want to me to do it somewhere else?" Shayan asks genuinely.

Klaus' eyes widened, looking at Shayan in shock. "What, no!" he protests, his face turning even redder. "No, you don't have to..." He trails off, clearing his throat again. "Do it...here."

Shayan smiles and walks up to him, draping the towel over his shoulder. Klaus swallows as Shayan approaches, his eyes trailing over his shirtless form. He looks like he's about to say something, but whatever words he had die on his lips at Shayan's proximity.

Shayan tucks a finger under Klaus' chin, making him meet his eyes. Klaus' breath hitches, his eyes wide and slightly hazy looking. He's close enough that Shayan can see the way his pupils are blown wide, the way his lips part subconsciously.

"Get some coffee," he says softly. "We're going out."

Klaus blinks, his daze clearing a little. "Going out?" he asks, confusion colouring his voice. "Where are we going?"

"Clothes shopping, remember?" he smiles, his finger still under his chin. "We can go to all your favourite shops, get lunch, whatever you want."

Klaus' eyes widen a little, a flicker of excitement crossing his face before he can hide it. "I...really?" he asks, his voice soft and a hint of vulnerability seeping into his tone.

Shayan smiles and nods. "If you're gonna move in, you need stuff to move."

Klaus' face flushes even redder at the mention of him 'moving in'. He swallows, darting his eyes away, then back to Shayan. "You...you really want me to move in," he says, like he still can't quite believe it.

"You think I'm gonna let you sleep in the street? We just got you clean, I'm not throwing you out there again."

Klaus looks away again, his expression a mixture of guilt, gratitude and something else Shayan can't quite read. "I...I don't have any money," he says quietly, almost like he's afraid of Shayan's response.

"So?" Shayan says calmly. "I'm rich, remember?" His finger is still under Klaus' chin, he doesn't even bother to stop the slight teasing tone in his voice.

"I can't just...take your money," Klaus protests, the flush in his cheeks darkening. "I'm not... a charity case." That last part sounds more like him reassuring himself than Shayan.

"I know. But if you feel that bad.. you can work in the café, earn some cash the hard way."

Klaus looks mildly surprised, his argument cut short in his throat. "I...you'd let me work?" he asks, disbelief clear in his voice.

"If you want to. Or you could be my personal house wife," he jokes.

"Ha ha," Klaus mutters, rolling his eyes, but Shayan can see the hint of a smile playing around his lips.

He grins back at him, stepping back and picking up the shirt he discarded earlier. "Now go get some coffee, alright?" he says, slipping into the shirt. "I'll get changed and then we can head out."

Klaus nods, his eyes still lingering a little on Shayan's form before he turns and leaves the room. Once he's gone, Shayan lets out a puff of amused breath and shakes his head, a fond smile on his lips.

Getting changed doesn't take him long, and he finds Klaus at the coffee machine in the kitchen, staring at the buttons like they're the most confusing thing he's ever seen.

Shayan bites his lip to hold back a laugh, watching as Klaus pokes the buttons with uncertainty. "Having trouble?" he asks, leaning over his shoulder, his hand hovering on Klaus' arm.

Klaus jumps a little at the sound of his voice, spinning around so quickly he nearly elbows Shayan in the face. "Don't sneak up on people like that," he mutters, scowling at him, but there's little heat behind it.

"Sorry, instincts." he smiles.

"Yeah, well, your instincts suck," Klaus grumbles, turning back to the coffee machine. "And your coffee machine sucks too. Why does it have so many buttons? It's just coffee."

Shayan chuckles. "What do you want?" he leans closer, pressing a few buttons.

"Just a latte, I guess," Klaus mutters, trying to cover his confusion with a scowl. He glances at Shayan as he reaches around him to press the buttons, his cheeks flushing pink again.

Shayan hits the last button and a moment later, the coffee machine goes to work. He straightens up, now standing directly behind Klaus, his chest almost touching Klaus' back. He pretends not to notice the way Klaus swallows heavily.

"See?" he says, his mouth hovering close to Klaus' ear. "It's not so difficult." He's only teasing, but Klaus' reaction is very real. His shoulders stiffen, a shiver running through him involuntarily.

Klaus turns, his eyes roaming over Shayan's clothes. He's wearing a white button up, the top two buttons undone, with black pants and smart looking shoes. "You look...good," Klaus mumbles, his eyes lingering on the open collar and on the peek of collarbone it reveals.

"Thank you," Shayan says, a smirk playing on his lips as he registers the way Klaus' gaze keeps drifting down to his exposed chest.

Klaus seems to become aware that he's been caught staring and snaps his eyes back up to Shayan's face. "Let's just..." he trails off, clearing his throat. "Let's just get going."

Klaus starts walking off, but Shayan grabs his wrist gently. Klaus glances at him, his eyes questioning. His wrist is slender and bony under Shayan's fingers, and Shayan has the strangest urge to wrap his hand around it completely, cover the delicate skin with his own.

"Your coffee?" he holds up the take away cup.

Klaus' eyes widen as he sees the cup. "Oh," he says, blushing faintly as he takes the cup. "Right, yeah. Thank you."

Shayan smiles and releases his wrist. "C'mon," he says, nodding towards the front door. "Let's go."

They head outside and get into Shayan's car; a nice, modern looking sedan that looks far too expensive to be called a 'car'. Shayan opens the passenger door for him.

"What a gentleman," Klaus mutters as he gets in, but there's a hint of a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

"Only the best for you, princess," Shayan replies, shutting the door and climbing into the driver's seat.

Klaus rolls his eyes at that, mumbling something like "Cocky bastard". He buckles himself in as Shayan starts the engine and peels out of the driveway.

For a few minutes, they drive in silence. Klaus gazes out the window, watching the city pass by, seemingly lost in his thoughts. Shayan sneaks glances at him every now and then, taking in the way his messy curls fall around his face, the graceful line of his neck.

It's Klaus who breaks the silence. "...why are you doing this?" he asks suddenly, his voice soft. "For me, I mean. You don't have to, y'know."

"You keep saying things like that." Shayan glances at him.

Klaus huffs, shifting in his seat, his eyes still fixed on the passing scenery. "Well, it's true. I'm nothing special, yet you're going all this trouble. I don't...I don't understand it."

"Who ever made you think that you don't deserve the best clearly didn't deserve you."

Klaus turns at that. The expression on his face is half-shocked, half-incredulous, like he doesn't know whether to believe what he's hearing or not.

"Me?" he says, his voice rising on the word. "You think I deserve the best? Have you seen me? Look at me, Shayan." He gestures at himself, at the scars and hollowed cheeks, his body too slender and too bruised. "This...this isn't what deserves the best."

Shayan wants to reach over, to grab his hand and tug it to his lips, to kiss every bruise until he understands how goddamn worth it he is. But he forces himself to focus on the road, gritting his teeth against the urge. "Stop it," he says, his voice firm. "Stop talking about yourself that way."

Klaus opens his mouth, gearing up for a protest, but Shayan cuts him off. "I mean it," he says, his voice leaving no room for argument. "No more of that self-deprecating bullshit."

Klaus snaps his mouth shut, his expression still disbelieving as he stares at Shayan. He clearly wants to argue back, to insist that Shayan has it all wrong about him, but something in Shayan's tone makes him hold his tongue for once.

The car falls into silence again, not an uncomfortable one, but an expectant one. Shayan can feel Klaus looking at him, his gaze heavy on his skin. He knows what Klaus wants to ask, the question hanging in the air between them, but he waits patiently for Klaus to gather the courage to voice it.

"Why do you care so much?" Klaus finally asks, his voice whisper soft. "Why are you going so...out of your way for me?"

There it is. The million dollar question. Shayan can hear the vulnerability in Klaus' voice, almost like he's scared of the answer. He sighs, his grip tightening on the wheel. It's a question he's been asking himself for a while now, since he picked up Klaus from the streets.

He's got a thousand answers for him, but all of them seem to stick in his throat.

"I don't know." Shayan says.

Klaus deflates slightly, his face falling a little. That clearly wasn't the answer he was looking for. Shayan glances at him, swallowing down the words he can't force out of his mouth. His knuckles are white where they're gripping the wheel.

"But I do know that you deserve more than what you think you do, I know that you're a good person, and I know that.. I just want you to be happy."

Klaus is just staring at him now, his expression unreadable. It's hard to tell what he's thinking, but he looks almost dazed, struck silent by Shayan's words.

Shayan can see the tension between his shoulders, the way his fingers have curled into his lap. He looks like he's holding something back, something he wants to say but doesn't dare to.

When he speaks finally, his voice is barely a whisper. "...why?" he asks again, his voice cracking. Shayan feels a painful tug at his heart at the way Klaus sounds, so small and fragile.

"I don't know," Shayan repeats, and it feels just as much like a lie as the first time he said it. "I don't know, alright? I'm...I'm not good at giving answers, Klaus. But I know this much. I know...something in me wants to..." He falters, his throat closing around the words. Damn it. Why is this so difficult?

He can see Klaus' body tense even further as he speaks, a slight shiver running through him. His eyes are wide and focused on Shayan, looking so vulnerable and raw it makes Shayan's chest ache.

"W-what?" Klaus asks, his voice low, hoarse.

Shayan lets out a frustrated sigh. He can feel the weight of Klaus' gaze on him, like a physical touch on his skin. It's making it really hard to concentrate on driving.

"I... I want..." He stops himself, swallowing. "There's something inside me that wants to...take care of you. Even though I barely know you. And I don't know why."

A sharp intake of breath from Klaus indicates he heard him. When Shayan glances at him, he catches the way Klaus' hands have curled further into his lap, how his eyes seem glazed and unfocused.

Klaus is clearly fighting an internal battle of some kind, warring with himself over something, but Shayan can only guess what.

Klaus is gripping his pant legs so tight Shayan can see the blood draining from his knuckles, his jaw clenched so hard the cords of his neck stand out starkly. He looks like a single wrong word could break him.

Shayan has never wanted more to pull over and just.... hug him, wrap him in his arms and soothe away some of the tension in his body. Shayan pulls the car over to the side of the road and leans his head back.

Klaus lets out a shaky breath and looks over at him. He's still taut as a bowstring, like he's expecting a blow to hit him at any moment. Shayan doesn't speak, just shifts a little in his seat so he's turned more towards Klaus. A part of him is expecting Klaus to bolt out the door, to run away.

But Klaus doesn't bolt. He just sits there, motionless, his eyes roaming over Shayan's face like he's waiting for something. The silence seems to stretch on and on, until Klaus finally looks away, his eyes fixed firmly on the dashboard.

His voice breaks the silence, when he speaks. "...say it again," he says.

Shayan blinks in surprise. "Say..what?"

Klaus' fingers twitch, a quick, jerky movement. "Say it again," he repeats, his voice tight. "What you said before."

It doesn't take much for Shayan to guess what he's asking. He can see the tension thrumming in Klaus' body, the way each muscle is held at the brink of snapping.

He leans a little closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "I said I want to take care of you," he says. "That's what I said."

Klaus' breath hitches at the words. It's clear the effort it's taking him to hold his body still, to stop himself from shivering.  Shayan aches to reach out, to touch him, to pull him into his arms, but he keeps his hands clenched on the steering wheel.

"I...you don't even know me," Klaus mutters, his voice shaking. "Why..?”

Shayan wants to laugh, or cry. This beautiful boy is looking at him like Shayan's words are something he doesn't deserve, like they're a gift too fine for him. It's almost too much to bear.

"I want to," he says, simply, and means it with his whole heart. "I want to know you."

Klaus' breath hitches again, his eyes falling shut like he's forcing back tears. He's trembling slightly, his shoulders shuddering with the minute tremors racking his body.

Shayan has reached the limit of his patience. He can't stand this, can't stand seeing Klaus in pain and not doing anything to ease it. He reaches out, his hand coming to cup Klaus' cheek, thumb tracing the sharp jut of his cheekbone. Klaus flinches visibly, a sharp inhale passing through his lips as his eyes fly open.

His breath is coming in quick, ragged bursts, and his eyes are glassy, like he's struggling to hold himself together.

Shayan murmurs his name in a low voice, his fingers gently tracing the shadows under Klaus' eyes. "Hey, look at me," he says quietly.

Klaus obeys, his eyes focusing on Shayan's face with a desperate kind of focus, like someone clutching onto their last lifeline.

"Do you know what I see when I look at you?" Shayan murmurs, his voice almost a caress. He moves his hand down, tracing the line of Klaus' neck. His skin is smooth under Shayan's touch.

"I see a boy who deserves to be loved," he says, "who deserves to be given the whole damn world. And I want to give it to you."

Klaus makes a broken sort of sound at that, his breath coming out strangled and uneven. His eyes fluttering shut, his head tilting involuntarily to lean into Shayan's touch.

Shayan can feel the shiver that runs through him, the way he trembles against Shayan's touch like he's barely holding on. He tightens his grip on Klaus' jaw, forcing his eyes open again, fixing Klaus' gaze to his face. "Look at me," he says again, his voice low. "I want you to look at me when I say this."

Klaus swallows heavily, his eyes meeting Shayan's in a silent plea. He's shaking, his breaths coming in short, shallow gasps like he's close to losing it.

Shayan can feel his heart clenching in his chest as he stares at Klaus' face. He's beautiful when he's falling apart, all raw edges and fragile bones. He's the most gorgeous thing Shayan's ever seen.

He moves closer, slowly, giving Klaus enough time to pull back if he wants to, until he's mere inches from Klaus' face. He can feel Klaus' breath against his cheek, soft and warm, and his trembling has progressed to shaking now, tremors wracking his frame. He looks like he's on the brink of shattering. But he doesn't pull away, just gazes at Shayan with an expression of almost desperate pleading.

"I want to be the one to take care of you," Shayan whispers, his voice barely a breath against Klaus' skin. "I want to be the one to hold you up."

Klaus makes a low, broken sound at that, something that might be a whimper or a sob. He's shaking so hard he's almost vibrating.

"So I'm going to take you out, and I'm going to buy you all the shit you want, and then we're going to go home, and we're gonna live."

For a moment, all Klaus does is stare at him, his eyes wide with an emotion Shayan can't quite identify. He looks dazed, almost like he's been struck by lightning.

His voice is a low, breathless gasp. "...home?" he asks, the word almost swallowed by a hitch in his breath, a desperate little sound of longing.

"Home." he smiles. "I just got you, and there isn't a chance in hell that I'm letting you go."

Klaus lets out a choked sound at that, an odd mix of a sob and a laugh, and throws himself forward, all but lunging across the center console to crash into Shayan's chest. Shayan barely has time to react before Klaus is burying his head against his shoulder, his body shaking against him, breath coming in ragged little huffs.

His arms are wrapped tight around Shayan's ribs, like he never wants to let go, and his face is tucked into the crook of Shayan's neck, dampening the skin there with his erratic breathing.

Shayan puts his arms around Klaus, one hand rubbing soothing circles on his back, and lets him press closer. Klaus is almost clinging to him now, burying himself into the shelter of his arms.

His body is still shaking, trembling against Shayan's chest like he's falling apart.

"It's okay," Shayan murmurs, his hands moving in gentle, soothing motions over the trembling body in his arms. "Hey, it's okay. You're okay." He feels a little like an idiot. Yeah, sure, he's okay. That's why he's shaking like a leaf in your arms.

But Klaus seems to relax a fraction against him at his words, so Shayan keeps going, murmuring nonsense into his ear. He keeps up his litany of soothing sounds, shifting a little to get more comfortable. Klaus' slender frame is a warm weight against his chest, and he can feel each of Klaus' shuddering breaths against his neck.

He thinks he can feel Klaus' trembling gradually start to ease, the panicked heaving of his chest slowly tapering to a more normal rhythm. He keeps up the soothing murmurs anyway, not quite ready to let go yet.

Klaus is still clinging to him, his face still buried against Shayan's neck. But his breath is even now, no longer labored, and Shayan can practically feel the tension draining out of his body.

"Better?" he asks, in a low voice. Klaus makes a vague mumbling sound into his shoulder that might be an affirmative. He can feel Klaus' eyelashes fluttering against his skin, a gentle whisper of sensation.

"Good," he mutters, and he has to repress the urge to press his lips against Klaus' hair, press a kiss to the top of his head, something. He settles for rubbing soothing circles on Klaus' back instead. "Do you still want to go out?" he asks gently.

Klaus doesn't answer for a moment, just huddles closer to Shayan's chest. But then he slowly pulls his head back, just enough so Shayan can see his face.

His eyes are suspiciously bright, his cheeks flushed. But he nods quietly. Shayan swallows the lump in his throat. Klaus looks wrecked sitting there, hair disheveled and eyes a little red, the faintest hint of tear tracks on his cheeks. He looks vulnerable and fragile, the bravado and sarcasm usually surrounding him like a shield completely stripped away.

He looks beautiful.

"Alright then," he says, forcing a lightness he doesn't feel into his voice. "Let's go."

He gently untangles himself from Klaus' arms, extricating himself from the embrace. Klaus makes a quiet sound of protest as Shayan moves away.

"I'm right here," Shayan smiles softly as he starts the car again and pulls back into the street. His hand moves from the gears and gently drops onto Klaus' thigh.

Klaus' breath hitches faintly at the touch, but he doesn't recoil. On the contrary, he practically leans into it, his body shifting closer almost instinctively. One of his hands comes up to rest on top of Shayan's, fingers tracing the knuckles gently.

The touch is so light it's barely a whisper, yet it sets his skin alight with electricity. He chances a glance sideways and finds Klaus watching him, those green eyes fixed intently on his face.

His grip on the steering wheel tightens as he forces his eyes back to the road. The last thing he needs is to crash the car because he got too distracted by his passenger's pretty face.

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© TOO SAD TO CRY