asking for it

"Oh, really? Duly noted, I'll buy you chocolate first thing when I'm back," Klaus decided, pleased. He thought the scrabble comment was cute, too. "Anyway, I wasn't insulting you, those were compliments! I think you're a delight."

A delight with a wide range of scavenged torture equipment. Truly charming. Klaus snorted quietly, rolling his eyes, but still couldn't help feeling sparks of interest, excitement and heat squirming in his stomach. He narrowed his eyes. His motto for years in regards to these things had been 'if it's a hot person doing it to me, I'm into it', but perhaps the masochist accusations he'd been getting more recently were, uh, more solid than thought.

It was all about the intensity, strong physical and emotional feelings. Towards those he was attracted to and his possessions, he felt only positive, very fond feelings. He didn't really want to hurt them past in a teasing, poking sense. If they hated him, or wanted to put him through fucking horrible things, well. He welcomed all of it. As long as there was something powerful involved, emotionally or physically, and he could keep them tangled up with him, he was going to be greedy.

"No shit, sherlock. Come on, I've been flirting with you since you showed up, love at first stab." Klaus snickered. Then, he tilted his head and fluttered his eyelashes. "I'd take a romantic dinner as much as I would sex, so why not this? I'm flexible in my tastes, and especially helpful, when I fall for someone. I'm sure you have no end of sick fantasies you want to act out, right? How mutually beneficial."

There was no way he wasn't going to get his share of enjoyment here. Not a chance.

Klaus leaned into the second search he received, one hundred percent going to make this as inappropriate as possible. The loss of his stuff gave him an instant pang of outrage, but he swallowed that down and didn't let himself focus on it. He wondered, instead, if this man would hurt him with more of his own weaponry. There was something twisted and hilarious about that, wasn't there?

Klaus didn't really catch on to what specifically was going to hurt, what the plan was, but the hammer and crowbar combo definitely didn't appear pleasant. It wasn't. Klaus cried out and flailed involuntarily, vision getting fuzzy and spotted again, body screaming as his abused nerves went into overdrive.

"Oh f-fuck, oh god, fuck," he stuttered, babbling a bit, eyes squeezed tightly shut. Things were worse like this than getting injured in the middle of a fight, around his usual adrenaline rush. He unclenched his teeth in order to pant, breath hot, chest heaving, heartbeat loud. The room was still spinning when he weakly opened his eyes again. There was a fucking crowbar through him. He trembled and stared and was very unashamedly turned on, pain and heat mixing perfectly. Red pooled below him, striking, standing out on the dull and gross floor.

"You sure you don't want to kiss? Not even a little?" He asked, barely managing to not stumble in his words. "I would've worn heart shaped sunglasses to be cuter if I'd known I was going to meet you today. Next time."

Klaus shivered again, this time from watching the look on this man's face and his twitching fingers. "Someone's repressed," he said, quietly, sharp. "Having a moral dilemma over there? Don't bother. I'm the only one here, and I won't snitch on you. And… I am consenting to all this."

A break. Klaus raised his eyebrows, but shrugged his sore shoulders and accepted it. He gulped down the water greedily and hummed, internalizing that softer voice. He wondered if there was a more sinister intent behind this, as well as just letting his not so reluctant torturer figure shit out.

Such as making sure he didn't die too early into things. He wouldn't, couldn't, he'd just suffer, experience the feeling of slowly bleeding to death without an ending ever coming. There'd been many a time where he just faked being dead, then dragged his half-dead corpse to a really skilled healer- because without more complete destruction, he was fucked. It wasn't common knowledge. He really didn't want it to be.

Trembling hands. Klaus continued to stare. Then, he laughted, lighter rather than cruel. "It's pretty simple, doll. I'm a greed demon. I want, take, own- it's what I do. I usually prefer to be pleasant about it. If it's a person I'm dealing with, they can decide the specifics of our interactions, why not? Fully leaving or ignoring me, however. Why the fuck should you exist anymore, like that? Just thinking about it pisses me off, makes me distracted, not able to function. Can't stop until they're removed- and they started that process, right? I just finish it."

Klaus nodded, taking a long drag, inhaling and exhaling smoke. "Thanks. It's sustainable because while brutal, it doesn't happen all the damn time. I'm pretty nice, for the most part. I don't force certain things, and I don't ask for much. I treat my employees like family, for example- some of them happen to actually be family, too. Giving my cousins and siblings jobs, keeping them close, makes me feel fuzzy inside, or whatever." Partially fuzzy feelings, partially just objectification. It was half and half. His murderer said that people are complex, and that wasn't wrong.

"When someone does screw up majorly, by doing like, the one thing that fucks me up? It's usually their fault, and is fucking stupid- especially when I'm willing to let so much slide out of fondness. It's a pretty sweet deal."

Klaus paused. "Like right now. Yeah, I'm definitely into you, but isn't this pushing it? You think I should let you get away with this kind of uppity shit? Probably not, right? Right. And yet, here we are." He smiled. "I'm all levels of idiotic for sentiment and indulgence, that's the truth of the matter, aha. The good affects the bad, and vice versa. It's human. So, I doubt any of this information has improved your opinion of me, want to get back to the main show?"

Klaus had always been good at pushing others. Whether he was doing it purposefully or not, he tended to rub people in all the wrong ways, or influence them. He left traces of himself on everything he touched. It was how things were. This man was no different.

But he was definitely intense, wasn't he? A very quiet sense of dread settled in with the adoration, which Klaus promptly ignored. He just gnawed at his lip again instead, and continued to want.

He cringed and hissed, neck prickling, skin being burnt into and away. "Ngh. I…" He met his torturer's gaze, at first timid, then breaking out into a crooked grin and laughing, loud and shameless, echoing off the walls. "I'm thrilled! That's right, take what you want, just like me, do it. You want to ruin me, have me stop enjoying this? So make it happen, you fucking trash."

Klaus regretted none of his provocative behavior, the efforts to have this person sink to his level, no matter how much he was hurt. He did, however, scream. His mind and thoughts were rattled, shaken, but he was having a good time. Probably.

He peered at his own wound briefly, and was nearly sick, pulling back again as quickly as possible. Nausea swirled. Klaus swallowed and tried not to hyperventilate, just letting out a slow whine. The twisted delight and pleasure was still around. His addled mental state didn't help with that, nor did the satisfied nodding- like a praise for being so damaged. He flushed. Fucking christ it was hard not to throw up.

The alcohol was another tipping point. Klaus gasped sharply, shrill, and struggled- though his uncontrollable, panicked movements really only added to the agony. Tears streamed down his face, and he choked out a few strained sobs, breathing ragged.

He hardly noticed, but as he lacked the focus to keep speaking english, he fell back to spanish, his first and most natural language. His already slurred words were enunciated with light hissing, forked tongue doing him no favors. He still managed to smile, but it twitched at the corners. "Y-you're one of the prettiest monsters I've ever seen. Having fun, using me as a t-toy?"

Klaus quieted and tried to compose himself a little. His insides continued to deteriorate and soak in pain.

"…Hey. I hope you don't think you're going back, after getting a proper taste for this. S'never how it goes, and even if you didn't have to do it, you like this. Love it, even. God, you should see yourself right now, how you look, how you're acting." Klaus shuddered. His face was red, undone, and the tears kept coming. He ached in all the ways possible.

His leg was fucked, Klaus thought a bit distantly. Was he broken? He still reacted when hurt, but he was a bit disconnected now, too. His head was buzzing, like an annoying alarm going off, and there wasn't an off switch. He hoped he wasn't going to pass out. His eyes were rather glossy, dull, but he followed the man's movements, felt a bit flustered at the pat.

Klaus was tired but in love, that much he knew. Hearing the object of his affections speak lit up a bit of his fire again. He blinked slowly, chasing back exhaustion. He wasn't this pathetic, how could he ever forget that? Human sensations sure were something. This wasn't anywhere near over, he wasn't broken, and he wasn't weak. That wasn't how this worked. He was the one who put himself in this situation, let it all happen. None of that could be taken from him.

I'm not reveling in it, he said. Klaus just raised an eyebrow and gave an extremely unimpressed look. "You're smarter than that, doll. I know you are. Don't throw that away. It's far too late to fool me or yourself… and I don't understand why you'd want to. Is that really you speaking, or something else entirely?"

He tilted his head. "Would going over the edge really be so much worse than how you are now, and if so, how did you come to that conclusion? Society? Speculation? I'm doing just fine, being this way. Is your superiority complex, and insistence on clinging to this shaky lifestyle, hiding jealousy?"

"…You can be stubborn, that's fine. But why not compromise a little? You like this, I like you… it's a nice little give and take relationship. Why end it here? Why should I force anything on you through harassment when we could both keep doing what we enjoy? Where's the shame there? Consider it a little, would you? It's the least you can do, after I've gone along with everything so nicely."

Klaus just stared for a few minutes as he processed being released. First he looked down at himself, then up again at the other, unmoving. His mind raced. He wasn't helpless in the slightest. He had one really screwed up leg he couldn't rely on, but otherwise? He could absolutely manage. He was a fucking survivor. In this situation, if that made him a more of a cockroach than anything else, he didn't care- survival was survival.

He could leave right then, just like he could've left earlier, yes. It didn't mean he would.

Klaus surged forward like the opportunistic bastard he was, kissing his ever so bright murderer. He was a strong mix of rougher and passionate intensity, all teeth, blood and adoration, fully ready to accept whatever retribution he'd receive. So fucking worth it.

Klaus sighed into this kiss as soon as it was reciprocated, but didn't let himself get too dreamy- because it wasn't just being returned, but matched in all the dangerous areas. The sigh turned into more of a groan, and when he managed to get his killer pushed to the table, he pressed up against the other, hot and impatient, eager.

The different extreme conditions his body was being put through, heavy pain and injuries, the need, were taking their toll on him. There was a desperation in his movements, the way his hands explored so purposefully, unsure he'd ever have the chance again. And he had no end of fascination and heat for this person, so that was a fucking shame, wasn't it? So he savored any trace of want his magic picked up, the taste of blood shared, the fire in his chest.

He wasn't shocked by being knocked back into his disgusting, splattered with nastiness chair, but he did feel a rush of biting disappointment to go along with his breathlessness. He didn't have the time to react further, to make much of a sound. Bang, bang, bang… ah, you stole away his heart. And very literally left a few holes in it. He watched more blood flow from his body- my, he couldn't have had that much left by now, could he? Ah, slow bleeding out wasn't exactly a fun thing to experience.

Klaus eyed the other man, not making any effort to copy the cleansing. He likely couldn't manage it even if he'd wanted to. There was a lack of energy in his limbs, and he knew they couldn't just wash away being who and what they were, what they'd already done.

But now... something felt like it held more finality. Klaus stared. "Are you about to really give in, or run from this?" He gave a smile, much smaller than usual, somehow getting enough of a hold of himself to speak in english once more. "Is it over? And to think I never had the chance to make a shitty 'knife to meet you' joke. That's sad."

"It's been a nice ride, either way. You've hated my fucking guts, I've been smitten towards you, and I still don't even know your name. Haha." And even if this particular event was coming to a close, things weren't ending entirely, they weren't over. That couldn't be reversed now. More importantly, Klaus wouldn't let it be.

"Have any preferences, for when I go buy you chocolate? Or should I just get you everything to be safe?"