𝒕𝒘𝒐 ━━ then i'll help you stand
₊ ⊹☕˚୨

❝ thank you ❞

❝ you don't have to thank me ❞

Shayan slowly rouses from sleep, his eyes fluttering open, the room around him slowly coming into focus. He rubs his eyes, the faint sunlight peeking through the window, indicating that it's still early morning. He looks at the clock on his bedside table, 4:30 am. He groans, swinging his legs out of the bed, his mind already shifting into 'work mode'.

Shayan goes through a simple yet effective exercise routine, his movements precise and fluid. For him, it's a form of meditation, a way to clear his mind and prepare for the day ahead. He does a few push-ups, some crunches, and some light stretching, his body moving with a grace belying his strong muscles.

Shayan heads to the bathroom, stripping down and stepping into the shower. The hot water feels soothing on his skin, washing away the slight ache in his muscles. He takes his time, lost in thought, the hot water and the steam clearing his mind and preparing him for the day ahead.

Shayan mentally runs through his checklist, the steps of prepping the morning food and making sure the café is ready for the day's customers. He goes through the motions of cooking a few simple dishes, each one taking a practiced hand and a keen eye. He double checks the café, making sure everything is clean and in it's place before taking stock of his inventory.

The kitchen and the front of the café are soon filled with the savory scents of cooking food, and the clink of plates and cups as Shayan moves around, readying the café for the day.

As he works, he prepares a cup of coffee with separate sugar packets and a small cup of milk, along with a plate of breakfast, eggs, bacon and toast for his guest. Shayan plates up the breakfast plate, adding some silverware. He's still thinking about the man from last night, the way he'd looked so small and lost.

He pours a cup of coffee, adding sugar packets and a small cup of milk on the side, remembering the man's pale complexion, the faint shadows under his eyes.

He places the breakfast plate on a tray, heading down the hallway to the back room. The man is asleep on the couch, his body curled into a tight ball, blankets pulled all the way up to his chin.

Shayan stands there for a moment, watching Klaus sleep. In sleep, his face looks peaceful, a stark contrast to the haunted, anxious look he'd had last night. He sets the tray down noiselessly on the small table, not wanting to wake the man just yet. He takes a final look at Klaus, his heart skipping a beat at the sight of the way the man's curls had fallen over his forehead, at the peaceful rise and fall of his chest.

Shayan feels the sudden, strange urge to brush Klaus' hair out of his eyes, to run his fingers through the soft strands, but he shakes the thought away, the idea feeling almost too intimate, too personal.

He takes a deep breath, his mind still filled with the image of Klaus asleep, so peaceful and unguarded. He quickly shakes it off, turning away from the man and heading back to the café, his heart still thudding in his chest.

He distracts himself with the rest of the prep work, his hands moving on auto-pilot as he goes through the familiar motions of opening the café. But his mind keeps straying elsewhere, his thoughts constantly returning to the man in the back room.

The café soon starts filling up with customers, the soft hum of conversation and the clink of silverware filling the air. But despite the distractions, Shayan's thoughts always seem to shift back Klaus, the sight of him sleeping so peacefully still burned into his mind.

As the waitstaff arrive for their shifts, Shayan greets them all with a friendly smile, discussing the day's specials and any changes to the menu. He gives them a quick run-down of the day's expectations and how he wants things to run, his voice authoritative but gentle.

He checks in with each member of the staff, making sure they're feeling well and not dealing with any issues. As he talks to them, his eyes keep glancing down the hallway to the back room, his mind still stuck on the image of Klaus asleep on the couch.

But he quickly shakes it off, focusing on the task at hand. He can't let his thoughts wander when he needs to manage the entire café and all of it's employees. The morning rush begins, the café getting more and more busy with customers streaming in to get their morning caffeine fix. Shayan's mind switches to management mode, his attention shifting to making sure everything runs smoothly and efficiently.

He moves around the café, refilling coffee cups and taking food orders. He stops by each table, asking the customers how their food is and if they need anything else. Despite the hectic pace, he keeps his cool, his voice even and pleasant as he interacts with the customers.

The waitstaff hustle around, taking orders and serving food, the café buzzing with activity. Everything seems to be running smoothly, but Shayan can't shake the nagging feeling in the back of his mind, the image of Klaus still lingering in his thoughts.

After a while, Shayan pulls aside his assistant manager, Janey. "Can you keep an eye on things for a minute?" he says, his voice a bit distracted.

Janey nods, giving Shayan a curious look. "Yeah, sure. Are you okay? You seem a bit off today."

He smiles, and nods. "I'm good, just need to check on something."

Janey gives him a knowing look, but doesn't press further. "Alright, I'll hold down the fort. You go do what you need to do."

Shayan grins, grateful for Janey's understanding. "Thanks, I won't be long." He turns and heads down the hallway to the back room, his heart beating a little faster with each step.

As he approaches the back room, he slows his pace, trying to calm his racing heart. He can hear the faint sound of the rain outside, the soft pitter-patter against the window.

He reaches the door, pausing for a moment before pushing it open. The soft morning light pours in through the curtains, casting the room in a warm glow. Klaus is still asleep on the couch, the blankets wrapped tightly around him. Shayan stands there in the doorway, watching the man sleep. He looks so small, so fragile like this, his long limbs and lean frame completely swallowed up by the blankets. The sight makes something deep within Shayan ache, a strange sense of protectiveness and tenderness welling up inside him.

He takes a step closer to the couch, torn between letting the man sleep and waking him up. He knows he has things to do back at the café, but he can't tear his eyes away from the man lying there, so peaceful and unguarded in his sleep.

Shayan silently kneels beside the couch, gently resting his hand on Klaus' arm, just below his shoulder. His skin is warm and soft beneath Shayan's touch, and he feels the man shift slightly under the covers, a soft huff of breath escaping from between his lips.

"Hey.." he gently shakes him.

Klaus stirs in his sleep, his brow furrowing as Shayan gently shakes him. His eyes flutter open, and he looks up at Shayan with a disoriented, sleep-filled daze.

Shayan can't help but smile as Klaus's eyes slowly open, still heavy with sleep. The man looks disoriented and confused, his curls sticking up in all directions, his eyelashes casting dark shadows across his cheeks.

"You sleep any longer I'm gonna get worried." Shayan pulls his hand away.

Klaus groans softly, his eyes still half closed. "I'm awake, I'm awake..." He slowly sits up, the blankets pooling around his hips, the sweater he'd given him sticking up around his stomach.

Shayan's eyes involuntarily linger on the man's exposed skin, taking in the sight of his lean, muscled torso. He quickly averts his gaze, focusing instead on Klaus's face, but the image of the man's skin is burned into his brain.

"Your breakfast is cold." he smiles up at him, still kneeling.

Klaus groans again, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand. "What time is it?" he mutters, his voice rough and gravelly with sleep.

"Almost eleven."

"Eleven? Damn..." Klaus runs a hand through his hair, trying to tame the messy curls. "Is it still raining?"

Shayan glances out the window, the rain still beating down outside. "Yeah, doesn't look like it's letting up anytime soon."

"Ugh..." Klaus flops back down onto the couch, burying his face in the pillows. "I don't want to get up..."

"I can imagine."

Klaus mumbles something into the pillow, his words unintelligible. He makes no move to get up, instead shifting under the blankets, trying to burrow further into the warmth.

"Get up and eat or I'm gonna shave your head."

Klaus pops his head out of the pillow, a wild look in his eyes. "You wouldn't dare."

"Oh yes I would, now get up. I didn't let you in so you could steal my couch for the rest of eternity."

Klaus grumbles under his breath, but he begrudgingly sits up, tossing the blankets aside and swinging his legs over the edge of the couch. He sits there for a moment, his eyes fixed on Shayan, who's still kneeling beside the couch.

"You know, I could probably get away with stealing your couch, if I really wanted to." Klaus smirks, his eyes fixed on Shayan's face. "I have the puppy eyes down pat."

"Good luck with that," he tries not to smile and stands. "I gotta get back to the café, I expect to see you out there in the next ten minutes."

Klaus gives him a mock salute, still sitting on the couch in nothing but boxers and that ridiculously oversized sweater. "You got it, boss."

Shayan shakes his head, laughing under his breath. "You're absurd, you know that?" he says, turning and heading out the door.

He heads back to the café, his mind still filled with the image of Klaus sitting on the couch in that sweater and those boxers, looking for all the world like a sleepy, disheveled puppy. He can already see that his absence hasn't gone unnoticed. The waitstaff give him curious looks, obviously wondering why he needed to leave so suddenly during the morning rush.

He gives them a reassuring smile, putting on his 'boss' face. "I had something come up," he says, his voice firm and authoritative. "Everything still going smoothly?"

One of the waitresses, a young woman named Anna, nods. "Yeah, everything's fine. We just got a wave of college kids, but that's to be expected."

He smiles, spotting a few of the usuals at their tables with their laptops and notes. The students always flocked here on Saturdays, eager for the constant flow of caffeine as they studied.

"Looks like the usual suspects are all here," he says to himself, heading over to refill their coffee cups and check in on them.

He chats with them for a few moments, asking about their studies and their day so far. A few of them are clearly struggling to keep their eyes open, their caffeine-fueled studying sessions lasting well into the early hours of the morning.

He teases them about their all-nighters, reminding them to take breaks and stretch their legs every once in a while. He knows he's being a bit of a hypocrite, considering his own coffee consumption. But he can't help it, caffeine runs through his veins like lava.
Finally, he tears himself away from the college kids and checks in with the rest of the staff, making sure everyone is staying hydrated and taking breaks.

Everyone seems to be in good spirits, despite the early morning rush. Shayan smiles, feeling a sense of pride in his staff and the smooth operation of the café. He's about to head back to his office when he glances at the entrance and does a double-take.

Klaus is standing there in the doorway, looking like a sleep-rumpled mess. There are still pillow creases on his cheeks and his hair is sticking up in even more directions than before. He scans the room, his eyes darting around until he spots Shayan.

Shayan can't help but feel a pang of something in his chest at the sight of the man standing there, looking so out of place and disheveled. But he quickly composes himself, plastering a smile on his face and heading towards Klaus.

"You actually got up," he teases as he approaches him. "I'm shocked, I thought I'd have to drag you out of there myself."

Klaus rolls his eyes, a smirk on his face. "Don't tempt me, I still might go back to sleep." He runs a hand through his messy hair, making it even more disheveled than before, if possible.

Shayan laughs, reaching up to fix the man's hair without thinking. His fingers brush through the silky strands, trying to tame the messy curls. "You look like a wild animal," he mutters, his fingers lingering for a moment longer than necessary in the man's hair.

Klaus leans into his touch, his eyes half-lidded and a hint of a smile on his lips. "Hey, it's natural. Not all of us can wake up looking like a Greek god every morning."

"You think I look like a Greek god?" Shayan teases, dropping his hand.

Klaus turns a delightful shade of pink, his cheeks flushing as he averts his eyes. "Don't get a big head," he mutters, trying to sound dismissive. But there's a hint of shyness in his voice that belies his words.

Shayan chuckles. "Get some coffee, I'm working."

Klaus nods, still a bit flustered, and heads over to the counter to order his coffee. Shayan can't help but watch the man go, shaking his head at his own behavior. He shouldn't be getting so distracted by Klaus, not when he has a café to run and staff to oversee.

He forces himself to look away, turning his attention back to his employees and the customers in the café. But he can't shake the feeling of Klaus's hair under his fingers, the silky smoothness of it and the heat of his skin.

He tries to focus on his work, but his mind keeps wandering back to the man sipping coffee at the counter. He can feel the weight of Klaus's gaze on him, watching him as he moves around the café.

The hours pass. Shayan moves swiftly from table to table, carrying orders and talking to staff, chatting with the usuals.

The café is in full swing, the lunch rush keeping Shayan on his feet as he manages the front. The waitstaff are hustling, serving food and refilling coffee mugs. The usuals are planted in their usual spots, their laptops and notes littering the tables.

Shayan barely has time to breathe, let alone think about anything other than the café. But every so often, he glances over at Klaus, who's still sitting at the counter, nursing his third cup of coffee.

He's glad to see him there, to see he hasn't disappeared yet. The state he found him in the night before, he was almost surprising Klaus hadn't snuck out in the middle of the night.

His eyes linger on the man for a moment, taking in his rumpled hair and tired eyes. Klaus seems content to just sit there, sipping his coffee and watching Shayan as he works.

The afternoon slips into evening, the café growing quieter as the lunch crowd thins out. Shayan finally has a moment to breathe, to check his phone and send a few emails. He glances over at Klaus again, surprised to see that the man has yet to leave.

He walks over to the counter, leaning against it casually. "You're still here," he observes. "I thought you would have gotten bored and left by now."

Klaus looks up from his coffee, a lazy smile on his face. "Nah, I'm comfortable. Plus, the coffee here is surprisingly decent." He takes a sip, his eyes never leaving Shayan's face.

"I'll take it." he smiles. "I expect you to pay for that though."

Klaus scoffs, feigning offense. "Are you charging me for the privilege of sitting here and looking pretty? Harsh."

"You can pay for drugs, you can pay for coffee." he spares him a smile before whisking away again.

Klaus just shakes his head, a fond smile on his face. He can't help but admire the man's work ethic, even if it does seem a bit excessive. He watches Shayan move around the café, his every movement efficient and graceful.

₊ ⊹☕˚୨

The hours pass, and the café empties out as the evening progresses. Shayan finally makes his way back over to the counter, his body exhausted from the long day. He slumps onto the stool next to Klaus, letting out a low groan.

Klaus chuckles, watching as Shayan practically collapses onto the stool. "Rough day?" he teases.

"Busy day." he smiles softly. "But it's good."

Klaus nods, taking in the tired lines on Shayan's face. He can see the exhaustion written in every feature, the shadows under his eyes and the weary slump of his shoulders.

"Serving, every day was busy. Drills and missions and extractions, you hardly got to sit down." He runs his finger over the rim of a mug.

Klaus watches him intently, listening to the soft words. He can hear the weariness in Shayan's voice, the faint trace of something darker lurking beneath the surface.

"The worst part was going from a full on, adrenaline pumping, life or death situation.. to nothing. Just quiet." he mutters.

Klaus's eyes linger on the hearing aids, watching the soft, black plastic against Shayan's white hair. He wonders if maybe the man's hearing issue was a result of an injury sustained during his time in the military.

Klaus hesitates for a moment, unsure if it's appropriate to ask. But he can't help his curiosity. "Can I ask you something personal?"

He glances at him. "May as well."

Klaus takes a breath, choosing his words carefully. "Your hearing aids... If you don't mind me asking, did that happen while you were serving?"

Shayan nods. "Yeah.. We were stationed in Kazakhstan, going after this guy who was shipping people from America for sex trafficking. Mission went sideways, we were told to retreat.. but there was this girl."

Klaus can feel his heart clenching at the words. "What happened?" he asks quietly, dreading the answer.

"I went after her. A buddy of mine insisted on coming with... it was the wrong call. He died, we lost the girl, and I lost my hearing. Flashbang, right next to my head." he gestures, his hand only an inch away from his ear.

Klaus swallows hard, the sound of the café around them suddenly fading. He can see the anguish in Shayan's eyes as he retells the story, the memory still painful even all these years later.

"I was discharged, for failing to listen to orders,  getting someone killed, and i wasn't fit for duty anymore. I'd been in the Navy since I was seventeen, almost seven years of service gone because I was too fucking stubborn."

Klaus can see the self-blame in every word, the way Shayan's eyes harden as he speaks. He can sense the guilt that still plagues the man despite the time that has passed. "But it wasn't your fault..." he murmurs, the words slipping out before he can stop them. Klaus can see the surprise in Shayan's eyes, as if the man hasn't ever heard those words before.

"Doesn't change anything."

Klaus shakes his head, the words leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. "You can’t blame yourself for what happened. You went after that girl, trying to save her. That's a noble thing to do." he says.

"Tell that to my dead friend, his family." he focuses on the mug again.

Klaus feels a pang in his chest at the mention of the man's friend, his stomach churning as he imagines the guilt Shayan must feel. He wants to reach out, to comfort the man, but he's not sure what to say. "What about the other guys?" Klaus asks.

Shayan takes another long sip of his coffee before answering, his expression blank. "The other guys in my squad? A few never came back... But the ones who did, we keep in touch. Not as much as I'd like, but they've got their own lives."

Klaus nods, taking in the answer. From the way Shayan speaks, it's clear that the memory of his friend's death still affects him deeply. He wonders what it must be like for the man, dealing with the loss of his friend and his hearing every day.

"What did you do after?" Klaus asks.

Shayan's eyes glaze over slightly as he drifts back to the past. "I moved back to my home town, tried to find civilian work. But it was hard, being discharged suddenly, with no job prospects and no qualifications outside of being a soldier... I fell into a downward spiral. Drink and drugs, mostly. It was a pretty dark time."

Klaus swallows hard again, the thought of Shayan in that state making his heart clench. He can see the pain in the man's eyes as he speaks, the memory still as fresh as if it had only happened yesterday.

"When my parents died, a few months after I got back, it was strange. Suddenly it all hit me, they died seeing me a mess, and that hurt more than anything. So I picked myself up, started a business, tried to live."

Klaus nods, listening intently. He can hear the determination in Shayan's voice, the resilience in the way he speaks. It's clear that the man has been through a lot, and he's come out the other side stronger for it.

"So what now? You gonna meet a pretty girl, start a life?" Klaus asks.

Shayan barks out a laugh at the question, his head tilting back as he grins. "Yeah, no. No pretty girls for me."

Klaus raises an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "No women at all?" he asks, unable to keep the amusement out of his voice.

Shayan raises an eyebrow at him, a smile growing, and it clicks. Klaus's eyes widen as he puts it together, a look of understanding passing over his face. "Oh," he says, the word coming out as a surprised exhale. "Oh."

Shayan laughs again. Klaus feels his heart skip a beat at the sound, the rich, melodic sound of Shayan's laugh echoing in his ears. He's never heard the man laugh like that before, so carefree and genuine.

He can feel a warm feeling spreading through his chest, the realization of Shayan's sexuality hitting him like a freight train. He isn’t even sure why the revelation hits him so hard, but it's there all the same.

He's suddenly very aware of how close they're sitting, of the way the light from the hanging lamps above them casts shadows across Shayan's face. He can feel the heat radiating off the man's body, the smell of his cologne and the faint scent of coffee and spice.

He's aware of his own body, of the way his own breath has quickened, the way his heart is pounding in his chest. He tries to think of something to say, anything to break the sudden tension, but his mind goes strangely blank.

Shayan glances at him, and Klaus feels like he's been caught out, like the man can see straight through him. There's a smirk on Shayan's lips, like he knows exactly what effect he's having on Klaus. "So what about you?" he asks. "What dragged you down the rabbit hole?"

Klaus shifts a little in his seat, the question catching him off guard. He takes a sip of his coffee, stalling for time as he tries to come up with an answer. It's been a while since he's talked about his past to anyone, let alone a relative stranger. But there's something about Shayan, something that makes him feel surprisingly comfortable, like he can open up to the man without judgement.

"It's a long story." He finally mutters, a wry smile playing at the corner of his lips.

"I've got time." he rests his head in his hand.

Klaus sighs, running a hand through his messy hair. "Well, where do I start..." he muses. "I guess I should start by saying that my family's a little dysfunctional." He glances up, noticing the way Shayan is listening intently. The man doesn't look judgmental or uninterested, just genuinely curious. It gives Klaus the confidence he needs to continue. "You ever heard of the umbrella academy?" Klaus asks nervously.

Shayan's eyebrows furrow, the wheels turning as he searches his memory. "That, uh, experimental group of super powered kids? From the news?"

Klaus nods, feeling a pang of anxiety in his chest. He's never been comfortable talking about his past, especially not with people he barely knows. But there's something about Shayan that makes it feel like the right thing to do.

"Yeah, that's the one." He mutters. "Well, that's where I'm from. One of the kids, I mean."

"You're a Hargreeves?" Shayan asks.

Klaus cringes at the name, a familiar sense of shame welling up inside him. "Yeah, unfortunately," he says, his tone bitter.

Shayan can see the flicker of emotion in Klaus's eyes, the way his shoulders tense at the mention of the name. "What was it like?" he asks gently, sensing the sensitivity of the subject.

Klaus snorts, running a hand through his tousled hair again. "It was about what you'd expect. Isolated, regimented, constantly being told that the fate of the world rested on our shoulders. Oh, and constantly being reminded by dear old dad that we were disappointments."

Shayan can hear the bitterness in Klaus’s voice, the way his jaw clenches at the mention of his father. He can only imagine the kind of childhood the man had, growing up in such a pressurized environment.

"Dad was obsessed with this whole saving the world thing. And he thought the best way to do that was to prepare us, train us like soldiers. We didn't have a normal childhood, I'll tell you that. No toys, no friends, no fun. We practically lived in a damn fortress."

"I can't imagine." his voice is gentle.

Klaus's expression softens at the genuine sympathy in Shayan's voice. It's been a long time since anyone has listened to him talk about his past without rolling their eyes or making some snarky comment.

"It wasn't all bad though." he muses, a nostalgic smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "We had each other, at least. The other kids, I mean. We were like a messed up little family, bonded together by our shitty childhoods."

He chuckles dryly, his thoughts drifting to his siblings. It's been years since he's seen most of them, but he still remembers the days they spent together, sneaking out past curfew and playing pranks on each other.

"We were a pretty dysfunctional group though. We never really got along, we'd always argue and fight. And let's just say we all have our own fair share of issues." He chuckles bitterly again. "We all went our separate ways after our brother died, and I haven't seen most of them in years."

Shayan's heart clenches in his chest as he sees the pain in Klaus's eyes. It's clear that the man's past has left some deep scars, and he can't help but feel a pang of sympathy for him.

Klaus hesitates for a moment, debating whether or not to bring up his ability to see the dead. It's not exactly something he talks about, and he's not sure how Shayan would react to the news.

But there's something about the man's presence that makes him feel strangely safe and accepted. Maybe it's the way he's listening intently, with genuine concern and interest. Or maybe it's the way his eyes dart over Klaus's face, like he can read the man's emotions like a book.

Whatever the reason, Klaus finds himself taking a deep breath and blurting, "Can I tell you something weird?"

"I like weird." he says playfully.

Klaus feels a flicker of relief at the man's response, his lips twitching into a small smile. "Okay, well, you asked for it. This is gonna sound insane, but... I can see dead people."

He braces himself for the look of disbelief or amusement or outright mockery that he's used to getting, but it doesn't come. Instead, Shayan just tilts his head slightly, like he's processing the information.

"I know, I know, I sound like a total crackpot. But it's true." Klaus fumbles, his heart thudding in his chest. "I can see and talk to dead people. Or ghosts, or whatever you want to call them. And no, I'm not crazy."

"I don't think you're crazy."

Klaus feels a wave of relief wash over him at the man's words, the tension in his shoulders visibly loosening. "You don't?" he asks, his voice cracking slightly.

Shayan shakes his head. "Makes sense in a way. Hell, if I could see dead people I'd probably get high everyday too."

Klaus barks out a laugh at Shayan's comment, surprised by the man's casual acceptance of his ability. He'd been expecting shock, disbelief, or even mockery. But this, this is refreshing. "Well, props for not freaking out." Klaus grins. "Most people don't take it very well when I tell them."

"They're probably just scared. The human race is afraid of what they don't understand."

Klaus nods in agreement, impressed by the man's insight. "Yeah, that's true. Most people can't wrap their heads around the idea of talking to the dead, so they assume I'm crazy or high or both." He chuckles bitterly, taking a sip of his coffee.

Shayan's features soften as he grows quiet for a moment, studying Klaus. Then he asks something Klaus hasn't heard in a very long time.

"Are you okay?"

Klaus's heart stutters in his chest at the question. It's such a simple thing, just three words, but it carries so much weight. No one has asked him that question in a long time. Not since he was a young child, with his father looming over him, always demanding excellence.

He opens his mouth to respond, the words catching in his throat. He wants to say yes, wants to brush off the question like he always does. But he can't seem to form the word.

"No." he finally rasps, his voice cracking. It's like a dam breaking inside him, the floodgates opening and his emotions spilling out. The pain, the loneliness, the guilt, the shame, everything he's been holding in pours out in a torrent of words. "I'm not okay. I haven't been okay in a long time."

Shayan doesn't say anything, but he reaches for him, gently placing his hand on his wrist. The touch is simple, but it feels like a lifeline to Klaus. It sends a shiver down his spine, the warmth of Shayan's hand seeping through his skin. It's been so long since anyone has touched him like that, like he's worth something more than the sum of his past.

His chest aches, a lump forming in his throat as the words keep coming. "I'm... I'm a mess, man. I'm a goddamn mess."

"It's okay to be a mess, you just have to remember to pick yourself up again."

Klaus swallows hard, the lump in his throat growing larger. "I don't know if I can," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "I've been trying for so long, but it's like every time I pick myself up, I just end up falling again. I keep making the same stupid mistakes, keep making the same bad decisions. I can't seem to change, no matter how hard I try."

"Then I'll help you stand."

Klaus's heart stutters in his chest. The words are simple, but they hit him like a ton of bricks. No one has ever offered to help him like this, not without some sort of ulterior motive.

He stares at Shayan, his eyes wide and vulnerable. "Why?" he croaks. "Why would you do that for me?"

"No one should do this alone. When I did, I thought I'd never get up. I know you think you have to do it all by yourself. You don't have too. You shouldn't have too."

Klaus feels a lump forming in his throat as Shayan speaks, the man's words hitting him straight in the heart. He's never really thought about it like that before. He's always tried to handle his problems by himself, convinced that he was a burden to others. But maybe he doesn't have to do it alone. Maybe he doesn't have to be alone.

He swallows hard, trying to tamp down the sudden rush of emotion. "I..." he trails off, not sure what to say, how to express what he's feeling.

Shayan grips his arm softly, leaning closer. "Can I hug you?"

Klaus's breath hitches in his throat at the question. He's not used to physical affection, and the thought of being touched, held, is both terrifying and tantalizing.

He nods slowly, his voice barely a whisper. "Yeah," he rasps. "You can hug me."

Shayan doesn't waste a moment, pulling Klaus into a tight embrace. His arms wrap around Klaus's back, holding him close. Klaus stiffens for a moment, his body unused to being held like this. But the warmth of Shayan's body pressed against his, the solid pressure of his arms, feels incredible.

He hesitates for a moment, then slowly, hesitantly, he wraps his arms around Shayan, returning the hug.

They stay like that for a moment, just holding each other. Klaus buries his face in the crook of Shayan's neck, his eyes squeezed shut. He can feel the man's pulse, steady and strong. He can smell the man's cologne, spiced and rich. He can feel the strength in Shayan's embrace, the way the man holds him as if he's something precious.

Tears prick at the corners of his eyes, the emotions warring inside him suddenly overwhelming.

Klaus takes a shuddering breath, his emotions finally spilling over. He clings to Shayan, his fingers digging into the man's shirt, as a sob wrenches itself from his chest.

He doesn't know how long they stay like that, with him crying into Shayan's shoulder, the man holding him and gently rubbing his back. But slowly, very slowly, the tears begin to subside.

"I want you to stay here, okay?" his voice is soft.

Klaus nods against Shayan's shoulder, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over him. Staying here sounds good. Staying here means he doesn't have to deal with the world outside, the world that's always trying to crush him.

"Okay," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. "I'll stay."

Shayan pulls back slightly, just enough to look into Klaus's red-rimmed eyes. He searches the man's face, taking in his exhausted expression, the remnants of tears still staining his cheeks. He gently brushes them away with his thumb.

"You're gonna be okay." Shayan murmurs, his voice filled with conviction. "You're gonna be okay."

Klaus nods again, the words hitting him like a lifeline. He wants to believe them, wants to believe that things can get better. But it's hard, so hard, when he's been stuck in this cycle of self-destruction for so long.

"I'll be here." Shayan continues, his hand still resting on Klaus's cheek. "Whenever you need me, I'll be here."

Klaus feels his chest tighten at the words, a fresh wave of emotion threatening to overwhelm him. He doesn't know what he did to deserve this man's kindness, but he knows he doesn't want to let it go.

"Thank you." he whispers, the words a mere breath. But they hold all the weight of the emotions that he can't express.

"You don't have to thank me." Shayan replies, his eyes soft. "We all need someone to lean on, sometimes."

He gently brushes Klaus's hair back from his forehead, his fingers lingering on the man's skin for a moment. Klaus feels another shiver run through him at the touch, his body reacting to the man's gentleness. It's been so long since anyone has touched him like this, like he's something precious.

He searches Shayan's face, looking for any hint of pity or mockery, but all he finds is genuine concern and warmth.

Klaus swallows hard, suddenly finding it hard to speak. He wants to say something, anything, to express the emotions swirling inside him. But the words seem to stick in his throat.

Instead, he reaches for Shayan's hand, tangling their fingers together.

Shayan gives his hand a reassuring squeeze, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Come on, let's get you settled."

He stands, tugging Klaus gently to his feet. Klaus follows silently, his legs shaky and his head still spinning.

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WORDS: 6251
© TOO SAD TO CRY