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No I haven't fallen off the planet...lol. I've just been finishing (at LONG last) my Eroica fic!!! Whoooooooo hooooooooooo...lol.
Background - you DO NOT have to know canon to enjoy this fic!!!! Seriously. All you need to know is this one paragraph from Lisa Williams' site:
http://www.eroicafans.org/index.html
"In case you've just wandered in here and aren't sure what it's all about, From Eroica With Love is a Japanese manga (series of comic books or graphic novels) by Yasuko Aoike, which has gained a following in the English-speaking world. It has a mostly European setting and concerns the adventures of a British aristocrat, Dorian Red, Earl of Gloria, who moonlights as an international art thief using the alias "Eroica", and his opposite number, a German NATO intelligence agent named Major Klaus Heinz von dem Eberbach. Dorian is flamboyant, swashbuckling, hedonistic, and cheerfully indifferent to most of society's conventions; he's also openly homosexual. Klaus is uptight, conservative, duty-driven, bad-tempered, and so repressed that he probably doesn't know himself what his sexual orientation is, but he does give some indications that he's not entirely immune to Dorian's attractions."
---
So if you've enjoyed my writing in the past - PRETTY PLEASE read this and give it a try!!! I'd love to know what you think.... Due to the length, it's posted in two parts.
Title: “Dorian In The Dark, Part One”
Author: Xof
Fandom: Eroica
Pairing: Klaus/Dorian
Category: Drama / First Time
Rating: NC-17 (deliciously LEMON)
Feedback: xof@rose.net
Summary: A mission brings both the Major and Eroica into close quarters, leading to a physical confrontation that changes the Major’s course unalterably.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. They just forced me to use them for awhile. Non-profitable but highly satisfying. This is not for minors. Many thanks to Yasuka Aoike for their original creation!
Notes: This is my first attempt at an Eroica fic. I’ve written tons of QAF stories - both UK and US. Also La Femme Nikita. So it is with GREAT thanks and many long hours that I have to thank two people for their help. Thank you to Alexis for helping me with some techie inspiration and for betaing the story when it was done. And MANY thanks to Nico for spending months (literally) - talking me through, making suggestions, helping me with the German and so many many things in the creation of this fic. She made me work (!!!) for this story, and it’s all the better for her suggestions. Hugs to you both.
Special Thanks to Eve! This fic was supposed to be in the zine she’s working to create, but I couldn’t make the deadline…lol. The special thanks comes from her literally saving the story’s life twice. She was able to resend me my original outline after first my computer crashed and had to be reformatted, and then when I lost the outline after the file was corrupted and made inaccessible. Many thanks to you for it even seeing the light of day!
Warnings: Cursing - hehe. Sorry, I know that’s not really a warning - this is KLAUS, after all…lol.
German used:
Scheiße = Shit
Verdammte Schwuchtel = Damn Fag
Dummkopf = Numb Skull
Fick dich ins Knie = Fuck you (literally, "Go Fuck Your Knee")
Verdammt = Damn
Verdammter Dieb! = Damn Thief
Jetzt, verdammt! = Now, damn it.
Jetzt, komm! = Now, come (on)!
“Dorian In The Dark”
By
Xof
(February 21, 2004)
One would think that pain would be a distraction to anger; also that it would be something to break through the cloud of intolerant dread. But unmercifully, it proved not so as Major Klaus Heinz von dem Eberbach sat in his office watching the small trail of blood that traced the curves of his clenched hand. The crimson lines marked his fingers as they twisted and crushed the malleable flora in his right palm. A scarlet red ruin of a rose....
A calling card. Eroica's own RSVP to the summons that NATO had forced Klaus to issue when his other window of opportunity had been closed with a slam. His Chief had insisted the thief be called in after their second alternate was found dead the morning after his assigned mission was to have occurred; the first having disappeared a month before the second's death.
Which left Eroica.
The damned scourge of Iron Klaus' existence. Incorrigible thief, outrageous fop and perverted....
"Verdammte Schwuchtel." Klaus' voice sliced through the quiet of his office, signifying his own bitterness at even the idea of having to speak - let alone work, with the Englishman yet again.
"Nice to know I'm on your mind, darling." The voice - THAT voice - had Klaus jerking his eyes up from his injured hand with a snap of his neck. "And on such sweet terms too."
Klaus grit his teeth at the low tease that sounded in the space between them. The vision that was Dorian Red, Earl of Gloria, was irritatingly and intentionally provocative enough without adding the voice as well.
There the man stood with radiant blond curls reaching past his shoulders; his tall slim physique framed in a white blouse embroidered with red roses along the v-cut neck and down the sleeves, legs dipped in black leather pants and feet encased in red suede boots that covered his shins up to the knees. It was a look that spoke loudly to the man's nature and tastes. And served to make the Major vibrate with frustration at having to take the meeting seriously.
Quickly rising from his chair, the Major rounded the desk and stomped by the amused Earl towards the door. With a tone of fury, he yelled at the outer office. "Z!" The agent was nowhere to be seen, probably in hiding due to his failure to take Eroica into a conference room and stay clear of Klaus' private office.
"Oh, I'm afraid I left him a few floors back."
At that comment, Klaus growled a curse, "Idiots, all of them." He returned to his desk, after shutting the office door with enough force to almost placate his desire to destroy the closest object. Throttling the Earl was out of the question. At least until he got the compliance that NATO wanted from the thief.
Rigidly sitting in his chair, the Major made no effort to play the gracious host by inviting Dorian to sit as well. The man could remain in his elegant reclined position against the wall across from Klaus' desk. It was the furthest away from Klaus the man could be while in the same four walls.
"How did you end up here in my office?" The words sounded out in a low growl.
Dorian smiled, "Made a request to use the loo, took a left instead of a right . . . and here I am." His manner was in keeping with his obvious enjoyment of Klaus' anger.
The Major clenched his fists as he fought to keep his temper from overcoming the necessity of the meeting's intent. "Scheiße!" The thorns imbedded in Klaus' hand were a sudden reminder that in his distraction, he'd forgotten that he still held Eroica's rose. Or rather, the mess of what was left.... "Idiot." Whether the insult was for himself or Dorian, Klaus didn't pause to reason. He threw the ruined flora across the room and was left unsatisfied with the small thud that harkened its contact with the wall. He jerked a handkerchief out from the inner pocket of his suit and clutched it in his right hand. "How in the hell did you get that thing in my office before you stole your way here yourself?"
Tisking with a shake of his head, Dorian moved to stand in front of Klaus' desk. "What would a man be without his mysteries, Major?" He didn't wait for a response before looking down at Klaus' injured hand, musing aloud, "That's going to bite every time you pull the trigger in the next few days." He lifted his gaze to the Major's face, "But at least I'll know you'll be thinking of me when you do..."
Wanting to get past the inane banter, Klaus pushed a folder across the desk for the Earl to review with an impatient shove. "Thinking of you when I pull the trigger is nothing new."
With a small mischievous grin, Dorian took the file in hand and glided into the chair opposite Klaus. "This is where I refrain from mentioning the sexual connotations of that last comment and we get down to business, yes?"
The sputter of Iron Klaus' indignation escaped him with a heavy grunt as the Major kicked back from the desk, his face red with anger as he stiffly turned to look out the window behind them - fighting yet again to hold his temper. Teeth gritted like a vice, Klaus breathed out a hissing acknowledgement. "NATO has seen it fit to have me contact you to undertake a procurement of intel."
The pause after Klaus's announcement was broken by Dorian, "In other words, you want me to steal for you."
Turning back, the Major snapped. "NATO wishes it, Eroica. Not I."
Dorian kept the folder closed as he watched the display that was Klaus in a fury. The passion of the German agent's anger was electric in so small a space. Barely contained with a restraint that had Dorian aching to prod and poke until the barriers between them broke all together. Of course, he also knew that channeled in its present direction - that passion would be more detrimental to his health than was wise. Utilizing a small amount of his own restraint, Dorian asked a question more to the point. "And what does NATO wish for Eroica to procure, Major?"
With a sigh, Klaus answered. "A means to an end, Lord Gloria. Merely a means to an end...." He saw Dorian's bemused expression and impatiently ordered, "Turn to page seven, damn you." Klaus started to pace as he waited for Dorian to read the data on the item he was being hired to obtain.
"A KEYCHAIN?" Dorian's voice rose slightly with disbelief. Disbelief and not a small amount of affront at the very idea of his talents being utilized for such an errand.
"Dummkopf! It's NOT a key chain!" Klaus snatched the file from Dorian's hands, throwing it down on the desk as he returned to his chair. "It's a Key Fob. A hardware token which displays a code generated by hash algorithm in combination with a symmetric key contained in the token. A new code is generated every sixty seconds which creates a barrier against unauthorized access."
Eroica nodded, even as he unconsciously smiled at the thought that it all sounded like something out of Science Fiction. He murmured with a chuckle, "A sonic screwdriver. Who would've thought."
"Sonic what?"
Laughing outright at Klaus' question, Dorian answered with a hint of a chagrined smile. "Sonic screwdriver. It's a television reference for the "Dr. Who" series that was on the BBC. Suppose to be able to open any lock. I rather fancied the notion of it being more than fiction, as you can imagine."
Snorting disdainfully in response, the Major added what he felt was the pertinent point. "There is only one technological lock this device will open, Eroica. NATO means to see that it's available to do so...."
Dorian hedged, "So this key fob is the means. What is the end?" He leaned forward, his elegant hands pressed flat against the surface of the desk. "What system is NATO looking to crack?"
Klaus frowned as he watched Dorian tracing the edges of the folder with his fingertips, caressing the paper as he looked to the Major to answer his question. "In addition to being classified, that is irrelevant." Fed up with watching the Englishman as he molested the file, Klaus jerked the folder away. "Your assignment is only to acquire the device and give it to me."
Dorian slowly sat back in the chair, draping himself fluidly into the best position in which to display himself. "Seems simple enough."
Klaus bit out a sobering piece of truth in answer. "One agent assigned is dead, another is missing. Simple is not the word to use."
The Earl's face grew serious as he thought of his next question, "A dangerous source from which to 'procure' - then. Who's the one on tap for the theft?"
The Major opened the file to a photograph, and slide it across for Dorian to see. The man in the photo was distinguished looking, but with an obvious harshness to his features. Middle-aged, well-groomed - dark hair cut short. Stature tall and figure fit. Eyes an unusual amber brown. The eyes would have drawn anyone's notice to the man, but the cool condescension that radiated from his face was enough to quickly turn attraction into trepidation. A man of cruel distinction - one known to Dorian at a glance.
Klaus' recitation of the man's demographics was decidedly halted by Dorian's voice as it sounded bitter and bleak, cutting through - "Miguel Devon. Originally Devonshire, but he changed it. Father - one of England's wealthiest. Mother raised in Argentina, but originally of Austrian descent." The Earl leaned back away from the desk, an unpleased look on his face. "He calls himself Mig, for short."
Like a Russian fighter plane, the Major thought. He was surprised at Dorian's familiarity. Surprised and suspicious. "What is your acquaintance?"
"Little to none." At Klaus' disbelieving snort, the Earl decided to elaborate. "I've met him, yes. Families passing in the same social circles, it was unavoidable - despite my own wishes that it had been." When Klaus just stared at him with an unnerving insistence, Dorian sighed dramatically. "He is quite . . . detestable, egomaniacal and persistent in going after everything and anyone that he wants."
The emphasis on 'anyone' was more telling than Dorian had meant it to be, judging from the Major's expression. "Detestable, egomaniacal and persistent. Sounds like a certain someone in this office."
Quirking an eyebrow, Eroica made a show of flipping his golden hair back - the motion exposing the line of his shoulder visible in the low cut neckline of his blouse. "But completely without my fashion sense." He added, "And said in a different context, by say - Mischa for instance, who in this room would fit those same three words but you, my Major?"
Growling at the perverse possessive implication the 'my' represented, Klaus slammed the flat of his hand down on the desk. "Enough with this incessant foppery, you twit. Explain what you mean. What is between you and this Mig?"
Dorian's eyes flashed with annoyance as he answered. "He holds an interest in me. In Dorian Red, not Eroica - just so you know. To be frank, he desires dalliance in all things of pleasure. No one, no kink is off his scale. He has made it known on more than one occasion when we crossed paths that he wants to add me to the list of his conquests." Shifting in the chair with less eloquence due to his agitation, the Earl finished. "I can't abide him, frankly. And have endeavored to distance myself from any meeting of happenstance that may occur between us." Throwing the Major a suspicious look of his own, "Mig is a bit player. At best, he is a go-between for others. He's not spy or terrorist material. How did he play into acquiring this key fob?"
Klaus dismissed the curiosity, "By being precisely what you said, a go-between. Again, Lord Gloria . . . the details are irrelevant." He lifted the file up, returning to the more immediate cause of their meeting. "Will you accept NATO's request?"
Dorian rose from his chair, standing in silence for long moment. He watched Klaus growing more and more aggravated with the passing seconds. And then with a quiet word, he firmly answered, "No."
Standing with enough force to push his chair into the wall behind him, Klaus barked angrily, "Why no?"
"You're asking the wrong question, darling." He made a point of looking the Major directly in the eyes. "One man dead, one missing - and I'm called here as the last resort when I should have been the first. You are forced by your own admission to ask on NATO's behalf for my help, and in doing so - you've been made aware that I would have to get close enough to a man even I with my low moral code as you espouse, find reprehensible. Ask me the correct question, Major. And I will say yes."
Klaus stood as a storm rose through his body, a twister of fury - but he knew the mission had to have Dorian's cooperation or NATO's window of opportunity would close for good. Clenching his fists and fighting the desire to reach out and throttle the Earl, Klaus asked, "What question do you want to hear?"
Dorian smiled, triumphantly. "I want you to ask me, personally."
A beat in time.... And then Klaus, looking like he wanted to kill, bit out the words that needed to be said. "Would you accept my request to procure this item, Eroica?"
Laughing as he reached out to take the file, Dorian teased. "Why of course, darling. I'd do anything you ask of me, Major. Be sure of that...."
Klaus breathed out a curse, "Fick dich ins Knie."
Laughing again as he pivoted with a luscious swing of his leather clad hips on his way out the door, Dorian replied, "I may be extremely malleable given the right inspiration, but even that - in the literal sense - is beyond my abilities." Stopping with one hand on the doorknob, he turned to look back with a flick of his head - the motion causing his blouse to fall, exposing his shoulder in a provocative manner. "Care to give the insult another go?"
Seething now, Klaus shouted loudly, "FUCK YOU."
With an enormous smile at having gotten what he wanted from Iron Klaus, the Earl blew the agent a saucy kiss before giving his reply to that oh-so-perfect of openings. "Given an opportunity, my Major - it would be my pleasure."
One breath - a moment in time - and then Dorian raced out the door as various items from Klaus' desk were hurdled in his wake.
-----
*Beep* "Eroica" *Beep* "Eroica, report."
With a sigh, Dorian bowed his head as he excused his presence from a small group of guests. He made his way across the crowded room, nodding this way and that to those who knew him as Lord Gloria. It was a gathering to celebrate the latest victory of Miguel Devon's newest acquisition - a racehorse of excellent breeding which had just won yet another lucrative cup that very morning. As owner, Mig was playing up his bragging rights - considering the amount of people present and the money being spent. All of which had proved most timely to Dorian's plans.
Skirting the edges of the partygoers, the Earl made a seemingly unconscious gesture of brushing his hair back over his shoulder - the golden glory made all the more striking for the contrast it posed against his burgundy silk shirt. The motion in fact was a check on Eroica's part, fingers brushing against his ear - adjusting the fit of the earpiece/microphone that was in his right ear. Once he'd passed out of earshot as he seemingly walked to the loo, Dorian answered in a monotone that would have passed as a simple murmur to anyone happening upon him.
"On point, I can assure."
*Beep* "When are you moving on the target? We're running out of time."
Having cased the home through the course of his mingling, Eroica turned down a hallway - slipping quietly past a member of Mig's security staff who was entering the bathroom. The Earl continued to stealthily make his way along the corridor as he quietly spoke to the Major. "Despite my reputation for being able to bare up beautifully under pressure - especially when it's the right KIND of pressure, it does distract to have you reminding me like a ticking clock." He sighed dramatically. They both knew tonight's circumstances were fortunate happenstance after weeks of trying to bring the assignment to its close. Gaining access to Mig's property was rather difficult given the amount of moving around the man did, and Dorian had been more than a little reluctant to contact the man face to face - not wanting to hint at a rendezvous that he would rather avoid.
*Beep* "Then please also consider that there IS a clock ticking on this idiocy. You either get the fob to me for the handoff before midnight, or you'll be facing that little flea of an accountant without the exorbitant fee he negotiated."
Dorian turned the handle on the door at the end of the hall, closing it quietly behind him as he entered the ill-lit office. "As if money was my primary motivator, darling." Doing a scan of the room's contents, Eroica's eyes fell on just what he was looking for.... The Major was beeping in to blast the Earl for his comment, when Dorian beat him to it. "Silence please, I'm in." His voice carried over their connection as both provoking and serious. Time to go to work.
--------
Jaw tightly clenched against his own desire to spout off every obscenity he knew - in more than one language, Klaus did something he abhorred. He waited....
Waiting was a part of the spy game, a necessary function on assignment. But the Major would be damned if he looked forward to playing the game of wait and see.... He was much more a man of action. And as such, it was rather galling to be the one stuck in a nondescript transport vehicle - acting as lookout and backup, as Eroica played his own game of cat and mouse.
Of course, in the light of the fiasco that was the pre-planning for tonight's theft, it was a miracle they were this close to completing the assignment. Devon flew to a different city at the slightest whim; his private jet ever at the ready - making it practically impossible to determine where he'd be next. The key fob always with him, whatever the destination - as NATO reconnaissance had been able to determine. Eroica had made an extra effort of playing societal fop, listening to the set's rumors as he collected information on Devon's next departure. All indicators had been that he was going to fly to his house in Edinburgh, so Klaus' agents had gone ahead - but then plans had changed quickly. One poker game played, and Mig Devon had become the owner of a champion racehorse. He abruptly altered his flight schedule, deciding to stop over in London for a celebration.
The Major knew that given the time restraints, they would have to take the opportunity or the mission be damned. Hence why he was presently sitting on his ass in the dark, listening to Dorian breathe while the thief calmly went about his commissioned crime.
Minutes ticked by slowly with only the inhale/exhale of Eroica's breath to interrupt the silence; a silence that impressed even Iron Klaus. It was a mark of the most expert of talents to be able to perform such a task under pressure, without making even the smallest indication or noise to alert anyone to your activities. Had he not known better, the Major would have thought the man was either standing as still as one of those silly statues the thief so favored or that he had disappeared into the mist like some fey creature from a fairy tale.
But then after a time, Dorian's voice sounded low over the wire. "It's in hand." The sound of footsteps lightly treading down a marble corridor was followed hard upon by music growing louder the closer Lord Gloria moved back towards the party. Then there were voices talking, speaking to the Earl as he walked through the main room - his answering responses were both outlandish and yet dismissive, as if he had grown bored with his surroundings and were going to call it an evening.
Klaus listened as the thief said farewell to a few gossipmongers he seemed familiar with, waiting for Eroica to be free to speak to him once more. Finally, it seemed that the night was almost at mission end as the Earl went to retrieve his coat. "Meet me...." Dorian's instructions were abruptly cut short as a loud gasp escaped him, blaring through the wire into Klaus' ear. With a voice laced with surprise, he spoke again. One word, one name telling the Major that all was not well.... "Mig!"
-------
"Lord Gloria, I've caught you now."
Words, crisp and rough - a hiss in Dorian's ear as he was jerked back, just feet from making his exit. Jerked back and around to find himself staring at the man who was his host. Miguel Devon, in the flesh. Flesh that the Earl had been trying to avoid meeting up with ever since he'd entered the party earlier in the evening. Before he could say anything distracting or flip enough to answer Mig's greeting, Dorian found himself hustled rather abruptly across the entrance way and into a side room away from the public eye.
With a whirl and a thrust, the Earl was pressed back against the closed door - trapped by the full length of Mig's body as it held him captive. The yelp that escaped the thief was a tad undignified, but considering the situation - even the Major would probably have....
Oh dear. The Major....
Dorian's thought was interrupted by Devon's hot breath, harshly blown against the skin of his neck. "Dori-boy, you're trapped. No escaping me this time." The Earl jerked his head to the other side, trying to keep his mic'ed ear from showing through the tangle of his hair. Hair that was now fisted in Devon's hands.
With a hiss at having his head held in so tight a grip, the Earl snapped, "I am no man's 'Dori-boy.' Let me go, Devon." He tried to push against the man's solid frame, but barely made a budge in his attempt to free himself. He was repulsed by the man holding him captive, by his manner - his presumption - his having crudely crossed the line. It didn't help that Dorian was startled and afraid at having almost been caught. Almost - hell, maybe still about to be, if Mig found the evidence on him.... But Devon's designs were altogether of a different ilk as the Earl was finding out.
Pulling Dorian's head back, Mig laughed. "Ahh, there's the fire I've heard about. Keep trying to get away. I like it." He leaned in and licked a line from the Earl's throat up to his chin.
Shivering at the brazen audacity, Dorian gasped as Devon's free hand began to wander over his body. "I'm not in the mood for this, now let me go. You're drunk." He shuddered at the smell of alcohol on the man's breath, at having it placed on his own skin. It made him feel dirty and misused.
Clutching the Earl now by both wrists, Mig clicked out a negative sound with his tongue. "This is MY night, Dori-boy. Fate's very happy with me. A horse, a winning run - and now you - under my fingers. Leaves me very in the mood for MORE." Pressing closer with no space between them, he lewdly taunted the Englishman as he circled his hips against Dorian's own. "There are rumors, Dori-boy. Wonderfully dirty tales about you. How you respond to any touch, how you moan and arch like your blood is on fire.... As wanton in bed as a cat in heat. Willing to do and take anything, anyone - and all with just a few strokes in all the right places." His voice had lowered in a rough vicious assault that had the Earl flinching in fury and trepidation. Devon growled his last words, "Mark me well, Dori-boy. I mean to know the truth of it, right .... now!"
With a sudden lunge forward, Devon raked his teeth down to the base of Dorian's throat until he could bite at the flesh of the Earl's collarbone. Harsh, without any caution save that of not breaking the skin - the man sucked and laughed as Dorian cried out in pain.
Sod circumspect necessity, he was NOT going to take anymore of this treatment for the sake of trying to hide behind facade.
Struggling to break away and to get the man off him - without care if it caused him damage in the process, the Earl cursed heatedly as he wrenched his wrists free from Mig's hold. With a determined grunt, Eroica did what he could to surprise the oaf that had him cornered. Boot heel stomped down and ground into the toe of Devon's shoe, heel of his palm brought up to slam against Mig's nose - then the other hand clutching the brute's balls in a tight clenched fist. It was with great satisfaction that the Earl heard the man squeak out a yell before he landed on his ass with a fierce shove by Dorian.
He quickly grabbed for the doorknob as he spit out, "Fucking you would be an insult to tom cats everywhere, you sonofabitch." Almost out the room, Dorian cried out as Devon made a grab for him from his position on his knees. Blunt fingers caught the back of the Englishman's burgundy blouse, ripping it in a line from waist to collar as the Earl kicked back to strike at Mig's arm. Racing out into the entranceway, Dorian jerked open the front door and ran down the stairs into the black cold London night....
- - - - - - -
*Beep* "Eroica!! Report, damn you!"
Panting breaths echoed through the digital link, but no answer was given to the Major's demand for acknowledgement. The man was running like a fiend by the sound of it. Klaus looked at his watch. Damn idiot. The Earl needed to make their rendezvous within the hour or the trade off to NATO would be for nothing. He didn't want to think about how disheveled Devon's attack and Eroica's near capture must have made the Earl. The possibility of it causing the mission's ruin so close to its successful conclusion was heinous and unthinkable.
*Beep* "Answer me, NOW! Where the hell are you going?"
"Char..." Panting as he was obviously trying to breathe in enough air to answer, Dorian's voice sounded in a rush. "The rendezvous, of course." The Major almost interrupted him but stopped when Eroica added, "I'll be there in twenty minutes, Major. You know the room." Klaus listened as the Earl called out to someone, "Charlotte Street Hotel, please." A cab driver apparently.
The Major cursed loudly as he turned to take the driver's seat. Pulling out into traffic, he murmured darkly. "You had better be there or I'll personally take this mission's failure out of your damned hide."
- - - - - - -
The rendezvous point had been planned ahead of time. It needed to be someplace inconspicuous, but well appointed. Off the beaten track but close enough to the action to be a convenient distance from Devon's London home. Some place where Eroica could go that wasn't as impractical as stepping into the back of the spy van that Klaus has commissioned for the evening's events. A place where secrets would be kept, and the appearance of an English nobleman would decidedly go unspoken.
At Dorian's suggestion, the Major had agreed to meet at the Charlotte Street Hotel. A room had been acquired before the mission's start and both men held a key. With the Earl on his way, Klaus called in the notice to NATO's London office - making sure that the contact would be there for the handoff in no less than half an hour. Walking a couple blocks from the parked vehicle, the Major entered the lobby of the hotel. His first impression was that it was understated with hard wood flooring and paneling, simple in its decor with most of the splash showing up in the adjoining restaurant called Oscar. It was closed due to the late hour and only a couple of staff members were present as he crossed the lobby. All in all, it was rather sedate to what he would have thought Eroica would choose.
Any conceded thought in the Earl's favor fled in an instant when Klaus looked down and saw what was one of the main decorative features of the room - a dark enlarged sculpture of a cat. The features were smooth and blown up like a balloon rather than a feline - the piece heavy and bizarre. The Major's thoughts darkened as he heard again in his mind the words that Devon had growled at the Earl, 'As wanton in bed as a cat in heat. Willing to do and take anything, anyone - and all with just a few strokes in all the right places.' Staring now at that damn sculpture had Klaus fuming in unreasonable anger. He'd avoided thinking about what he'd overheard, more focused on the mission's success or failure than on forming any opinions as to Dorian's abuse or the words that had passed into his own ear. To have his consciousness go from mission control to ground zero of Eroica's sexual reputation - all while staring at what now looked to be fate's own caricature of symbolism....
"Verdammt." Clenching his jaw tightly, the Major stormed through the room to the elevator - stabbing at the buttons with a force that would have made most people flinch on contact. The mission, that was all he determined to think about as he rode up in the lift. He had a job to see through to the end and no other thoughts could be afforded until it was done. Of course, that mindset didn't seem to ease any of Klaus' tension or anger as attested by his stomping footsteps on the way down the hall.
The room was silent as the Major entered. Still and dark. No lights were on, which had Klaus cursing under his breath as he wondered where the hell the idiot was....
Then - the sound of water, faint behind the bathroom door.
Impatient, the Major barked out a greeting. "Are you in there?"
Dorian's voice sounding in a subdued distracted manner through the door as the water continued to run. "Come in."
Shoving the door open, the Major entered the room - his mouth opening to spout out more venom towards the English fop that was his trial to bear yet again. Only no words came.... The sight before him took away the inclination as he stood caught in the doorway by the view.
Eroica, at close quarters, bent over the salt and pepper marble basin - slapping his wet hands over his face and down his neck. The motion of his hands was agitated and shaken as he scrubbed at his throat, unmindful of the mess he was making or the way the water soaked his shirt as he worked to clean himself of Devon's taint. The blouse was opened down the front and split up the rear as it spread to reveal the Earl's back - the silken fabric barely held together by the collar and sleeves. At the sound of Klaus' entrance, Dorian jerked his head up - catching the Major's eyes in the mirrored reflection. His expression was harsh and unsure for all of a second, before he blinked in a new one like a light switching from off to on. Standing upright, the Earl took a hand towel and ran it over his face. Once the towel was at his throat, Dorian turned to Klaus with a smile that did not reach his eyes. "Present and accounted for, Major - as you can see."
What the Major saw was Eroica at a disadvantage, hiding in plain sight with the flannel as his shield. The rarity of the look held the German's attention as he walked across the marble floor, his shoes clicking as he moved. Reaching out, Klaus jerked the cloth from a startled Dorian's hand. Baring under the bright lights of the little room, the evidence.... The marks of Mig Devon's assault on the Earl's skin.
Red, the lines - uneven and harsh against the pale smooth canvas. Exposed, glaring in contrast. They ran down the length of his throat, raked in over his collarbone like a waterfall that ended in a violet bruised pool where Devon had bit and sucked his mark into the man's skin. None had broken or bled despite the assault, which was a saving grace against doubt - but the sight, the knowledge of what they represented mixed with the echo of Devon's words left the Major skidding from annoyance to burning rage. Irrational and un-rationed, he stood glaring at the Earl - his eyes hot and burning as he looked at the man who had yet again quickened Klaus' blood enough to make him forget for a moment the importance of duty.
Tension built as they stayed silent, until the crowded position caused Dorian to blink under the inscrutable glare of the Major's green eyes. Assuming his role of light gaiety like a mask, the Earl tried to hide his true unease behind a suffering sigh - released as he leaned back against the basin counter. He lifted a hand to touch at the base of his throat, caressing his fingertips lightly over the marks as he raised an eyebrow and smiled. "The pains I suffer at your slightest whim, my Major." At the blustering heat of the German's face in response to those words, Dorian moved closer even as the Major fought to stand his ground. With a whisper, "Too bad it wasn't as much fun going on as it looks like it should have been," the Earl tried to push past Klaus to escape the small confines of the room. A hard hand clamped down on his shoulder with a punishing grip, causing Dorian to eek out a startled gasp.
The Major shook the blond with a barked, "Enough foolishness, Eroica. We don't have time for your idiocy." With a shove, Klaus pushed the Earl through the door - waiting a count of ten to follow him, warring against his nature to restrain the need to lash out, his anger feeding his lack of patience.
He had to get the damn key fob from the thief before the courier showed up - and before he let his reactions get the better of his judgment. For no matter his own irritation, Eroica had done what two others had been unable to do. Now it was just a matter of Klaus holding his temper long enough to see it through to the end. All the quicker he hoped to get out of the Earl's presence. Especially before he started questioning himself as to why he was feeling so incredibly raw and on edge.
Entering the other room, the Major saw that Eroica had turned on a lamp that lent a soft glow to the darkness. What he also saw at last was the decor of the bedroom....
Pink....
Pink and white vertical stripped walls, soft rosy mauve curtains and bedspread. Pink and rose accents in all the appropriate spaces. The color of it was enough to make Klaus' skin itch. And did nothing to ease his anger.
"This, it's. . .it’s.... Can’t you even get a room that doesn't shout queer from every surface?"
More than a little of his own frustrations showing through - both from his continued manhandling and the Major's insults, the Earl snapped back. "I didn't choose the bloody room, thank you. It was assigned by the front desk. The other time I've been here, my room was blue." He stood with his hands on his hips, glaring right back at Klaus - a vision framed in pink; eyes bright and storming blue, body encased in silken burgundy remnants and chocolate leather pants. To say he looked glorious in his anger would have been an understatement. "It's just a damn room, Major. Not an invitation to lose your precious virtue...."
One second, two - and then Klaus crossed the few feet between them and shoved the other man hard into the wall behind them. Holding him at arms length, one fist at Dorian's collar and the other bracing the Earl rudely from being able to flee - fingers digging into the blond's shoulder. It was the standard treatment, Klaus' brutish abuse in the face of Dorian's.... Well, in the face of ALL that was Dorian Red. Crude shoves, harsh treatment - foul verbal attacks, and almost always from a distance. Passionate moments of what Dorian considered desperation on the Major's part - the German's actions always skirting the edge of being too adamant in the face of what Klaus protested against. Actions that would have driven most people away, but seemed to call to something in Dorian - that continued to draw him back to his Major.
Of course after a night of almost being caught, of first Devon's bruising hands and now Klaus' added to the mix as well - Dorian was at his own threshold for tolerance. It caused him to ride the edge of the situation as a way to sound his disconcerted condition - and to get a little of his own back. "All this dancing on the head of a pin, darling. If you wanted to lead, all you had to do was ask...." Innuendo and insinuation, darkly murmured.
Klaus quickly removed his hands with another shove, one that almost unbalanced the Earl until he caught himself with hands against the nearest solid surface. The Major thundered back, "You never know when to stop. Damn you! Weeks of this . . . two fucking weeks of this, of your words and your innuendo. I‘ve had enough!" Taking a deep breath, Klaus tried to cool his temper down a little and gather his composure as he continued to glare at the Earl. "The courier's in route - give it to me now!"
Glaring back in anger, Dorian closed his eyes for a moment - counting for a tick to calm himself. No matter how much he loved the Major, there were limits even to Dorian's patience. And tonight his threshold was spread thin to the point of breaking.
Of course, he didn't realize how true that held for the Major as well.
Opening his eyes, the Earl looked rather pointedly back at the man seething from across the room. He held the gaze as his hands moved slowly, deliberately to the opening of his leather pants. "As you wish, my Major." One snap, two.... His hand on the zipper, the barest start at pulling it down....and Dorian's world swung out of focus in an instant.
It hadn't been a conscious choice; just gut instinct on the Major's part. One moment he was watching in disbelief as the thief starting opening his pants and the next, Klaus had him slammed bodily up against the nearest wall, again - holding him one hand on Dorian's arm and the other.... The other buried, clutched tightly in Dorian's hair.
Panting as he struggled to step away, the Earl hissed as Klaus' fingers pulled his head back and dug into the flesh of his arm. He couldn't move, his body blocked by the Major's own - once more captive to another's strength.
Klaus bit out the words that were racing in his brain, dangerously incredulous at the Earl's audacity. "What in hell are you playing at, you fucking pervert? You're like an arsonist who's addicted to fire, never thinking you'll get burned. Always lighting a match with your words, your actions. It will not stand, Eroica. This is not a game!"
Caught close, hindered from flight - Dorian gasped as Klaus words sounded in chorus to the increased pressure of his hands. He'd be bruised come the dawn. Managing a harsh breath, he arched back into the hold on his hair to ease the tension and pull. One side of his brain firing on all cylinders at the danger of the situation and the other titillated by the proximity of the dark man that he'd wanted since the first. It was a heady mix that little resembled his earlier anger and fear under Devon's hands. Having Klaus touching him, dominating him had Dorian skirting the line between wanting to be freed and wanting to feel more of the same - whatever the cost. The danger of what the man could do, of which road he'd possibly travel....as they stood closer than they'd ever been before - the Major having now crossed the physical boundaries he'd so rigidly maintained in the past.
Dorian closed his eyes as he gasped out, "Never a game, my Major. Not with you." Opening them, he looked at Klaus with vivid blue heat - playing again at getting burned. "You're the second man to have me by the hair tonight, darling. I know it's an attractive feature, but who knew it was catnip to brutish German Majors too. Keep pulling harder and I might start to purr."
The words were a device aimed at Klaus - a means to find himself freed by taunting Klaus into pushing him away. Meant to fragment the man's control, even though the risk was great that it would not work in his favor, his purred incentive was the thief's only weapon against the Major's strength.
And fragment it did as the Major's hand dropped from Dorian's arm, balling into a fist in the man's fury. Blood at a boil - he wasn't thinking mission, he wasn't thinking at all....
The Earl hissed at the hard grip of Klaus' fingers pulling his head back. He knew a moment of fear as he looked at the hardened features of the German's face, as he took in the drawback of the Major's raised hand. Desperately, Dorian called out, "The key fob, Major. You NEED it!" Lifting his hands up in a gesture of surrender, as he watched Klaus' vision clear at the mention of that which took precedence over their mutual battle of wills. "I have it, I do."
"Hand it over now." Voice deadly quiet, the Major finally released the man's hair - taking him by both arms with a harsh shake.
Panting a little, Dorian murmured as he dropped his own hands to reach around behind him. "Easy, easy. It's hidden." He tried to squeeze his fingers between him and the wall as Klaus continued to hold him trapped. There wasn't enough room. He arched a little to create a space for his hands to maneuver, the motion bringing him closer still to the Major's hard frame. Seeing the look that skirted through the green eyes - knowing the man would take his every action as suspicion verified, Dorian assured him in a soft whisper, "At my waist, it's in the band at my waist." The words chorused by Dorian's leaning forward as he felt blindly for the inner slit at the back of his waistband that housed the key fob. Pushing against the pressure of the Major's hands, the Earl caught his breath as their bodies touched.
Snapping his eyes back up to see the Major's own, Dorian gasped at the intensity they held within.
Blue eyes held by green fire. Faces close, bodies together and the shifting of Dorian's hips bringing about more friction than the German wanted to think about. Fingers pulling, a quick jerk as the fob came free - and Dorian's eyes fell to the Major's mouth. Klaus' fingers tightened on the Earl's skin as their breath met and merged in a hot haze between them. The proximity, the possibility.... The need. The Earl’s head swam. Almost, a fraction of an inch and..... And Dorian crossed over, a sigh - a moan so hotly murmured, a "yes, please..." as he felt the barest of brushes, skin over skin. Eyes closing as he gave over and began to hope....
Until with a sudden strike, a slap - a burning sting across his face - Dorian knew the death of that possibility with bitter disappointment. Klaus' hand raised against him, hitting with sudden aim but less force than was probably intended - the closeness of their bodies lessening the weight behind the slap, the angle bad for damage. A hissed, "Damn you," sounding in the air between them from Klaus' lips.
Freezing for a second, stunned into stillness - Dorian blinked. His mind racing with the night's full dance card of abuse, first Devon now Klaus. Too much, too often.... A kiss that would never be known.
With a heart racing, his mind indignant and full of anger - Dorian reacted in his own right. Consequence be damned....
Reflexes as quick as a thief could hone them, the Earl flattened himself against the wall and shoved his hand into the Major's coat pocket - depositing the fob. The second Klaus pulled away in response to the sudden move, Dorian rounded in his direction and slapped the man across the face with enough force to whip the Major's head around. Voice raw and harsh - Dorian gasped, "Damn you back."
Klaus roared in his anger, outraged and out of control. He made to grab at Dorian's retreating back.
Dodging frantically, Eroica sped out of the way - throwing open the door and running down the hall. Nearly rushing into a startled man by the stairs.... The courier having arrived to face Klaus in the aftermath. With no backwards glance, Dorian raced through to the stairwell never stopping as he escaped the curses that followed in his wake.
Mission accomplished, but he feared a battle now fully engaged....
- - - - - - -
There's no reasoning as to when a person's mind turns from a quiet whisper of wondering to the burning underpinnings of want. The turning point may not be easily explained or acknowledged. Several factors could play a hand in the change - a certain look, a touch.... Or a barrage to the senses. All of which adds up over time until one's sub-conscience decides to play havoc with one's sense of reason. Setting one at war against a firmly held sense of duty.
A triggering moment - a glide of lips over lips and the look in a pair of eyes. The sound of a voice saying, "yes, please...." And the realization of self and of self-fulfillment may alter, changing irrevocably as if waking from a dream. Or waking into one....
Waking from a red daze to find himself in a hotel hallway after momentarily fading out, time skipping away in seconds - only to be called back to the necessity of NOW by a timid but dutifully insistent voice.
"Uhmm, Sir. Sir? Would you mind if we moved inside?"
Still staring over the agent's head, Klaus grit his teeth and jerked his head down in a quick nod of affirmation. He made to indicate that the man should proceed into the room ahead of him, when he realized his hands had strangely found themselves inside his coat pockets while he had briefly fugued out. As he drew them out, he felt the hard edge of metal inside one of the pockets - pulling the object out, he found that it was the key fob.
"Verdammter Dieb!" The Earl had done it. Despite the moment, the ... whatever it had been between them, he'd kept his head enough to finish his job - even in the face of Klaus' violence. And it railed against the Major's nerves that *he*, in the space of a moment, had lost his course enough to forget. Especially when thinking about the reason, the cause - would again take him off from the mission's path. He had a job to do, blast it.
With a shove, the Major practically pushed the agent through the door and slammed it closed behind them.
- - - - - - -
The handoff complete, Klaus left the hotel a short while later. The key fob was in play again, on its way to wherever NATO desired it to go - to do whatever it was needed for. A job well done, and in his case, finished. So why then was he not feeling accomplished?
What he felt was distracted - itchy - restless. Bothered...
Snorting aloud, Klaus shook his head. There was no wonder as to where that last emotion had come from. But as quickly as that thought passed his mind, he stopped and frowned. Bothered wasn't something he'd ever admitted to being by that.... That man.
No. No, it wasn't.... He wasn't. The subject was at best avoided. Or so he knew he'd always reasoned in the past.
But in the past, he hadn't had - known - experienced the almost that had been the earlier between them.
Damn it all. Lighting a cigarette, Klaus made his way back to the van. Long drags as smoke billowed around his head in the darkness of night, seen in the light of the street lamps and store windows he passed. Another cigarette as he pulled off from the curve.... His thoughts a blank, reason stalled as his innate sense of direction took him away towards he knew not where as he drove supposedly without purpose, and tried to not feel the unease of things left unfinished; left open and gapping in a way that fractured his steel resolve.
But there was a purpose he found, in that his aimless wondering indeed had a final destination.
With a sudden swerve, Klaus jerked the wheel as he pulled over abruptly and looked around. "Scheiße." His word - quiet but vehement.
It was at that moment that he knew he'd decided. Or rather his subconscious had done it for him. His senses felt a thousand times heightened as he looked out the window at where he was - touch, taste, smell, sound and sight. Alive. He felt intoxicated by the sober reality of what he intended, by the meaning behind it. The truth he'd never wanted to know. Before this night, before that one man....
Klaus closed his eyes, and gave a small nod. Then he got out of the vehicle and crossed the street to where he knew Dorian would be found.
- - - - - - -
When they’d had to make final arrangements for the night’s mission earlier in the day, the Major had thought Lord Gloria’s request to meet at “his” place meant he needed to go to Eroica’s mansion just outside of London - the residence that was on file with NATO as belonging to the Earl. He had been surprised when Dorian had instead given him an address inside London proper. When he’d asked, the Earl had smiled at Klaus’ curiosity.
The small two story terraced residence was in a quiet neighborhood, one that had “family” written all over it at a look. The property was in Bonham’s name, apparently. And served as a hide-away for when Dorian wanted to be in the city but more anonymous than he usually was…. The Englishman had laughed loudly at the Major’s accusation that it was there only to serve as a halfway house to hide his stolen wares in after his latest debauched thievery. The laugh was confirmation enough to leave Klaus’ back up so that the next hour of plan making and wire tapping had been a tense affair.
And now Klaus found himself again at that door, the wood painted a deep blue - looking practically black in the dark night. One hand pressed flat to the hard surface and the other on the doorknob - he stood there waiting but a moment before he reached inside his coat pocket and retrieved the small packet of tools he usually kept on hand during a mission. Setting to work, the Major looked straight ahead - feeling out the movements of his fingers as they worked the locking mechanism with a quickness and skill that would have had Eroica more than a little surprised.
With a click, the latch fell and the knob turned. And as he entered, silent and sure - Klaus had to acknowledge the fringe benefits of a spy’s knowledge and job experience. For tonight, it seemed - the Major was now the thief…. Stealing himself into Eroica’s lair.
continued in part two....
Hugs
xof
Background - you DO NOT have to know canon to enjoy this fic!!!! Seriously. All you need to know is this one paragraph from Lisa Williams' site:
http://www.eroicafans.org/index.html
"In case you've just wandered in here and aren't sure what it's all about, From Eroica With Love is a Japanese manga (series of comic books or graphic novels) by Yasuko Aoike, which has gained a following in the English-speaking world. It has a mostly European setting and concerns the adventures of a British aristocrat, Dorian Red, Earl of Gloria, who moonlights as an international art thief using the alias "Eroica", and his opposite number, a German NATO intelligence agent named Major Klaus Heinz von dem Eberbach. Dorian is flamboyant, swashbuckling, hedonistic, and cheerfully indifferent to most of society's conventions; he's also openly homosexual. Klaus is uptight, conservative, duty-driven, bad-tempered, and so repressed that he probably doesn't know himself what his sexual orientation is, but he does give some indications that he's not entirely immune to Dorian's attractions."
---
So if you've enjoyed my writing in the past - PRETTY PLEASE read this and give it a try!!! I'd love to know what you think.... Due to the length, it's posted in two parts.
Title: “Dorian In The Dark, Part One”
Author: Xof
Fandom: Eroica
Pairing: Klaus/Dorian
Category: Drama / First Time
Rating: NC-17 (deliciously LEMON)
Feedback: xof@rose.net
Summary: A mission brings both the Major and Eroica into close quarters, leading to a physical confrontation that changes the Major’s course unalterably.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. They just forced me to use them for awhile. Non-profitable but highly satisfying. This is not for minors. Many thanks to Yasuka Aoike for their original creation!
Notes: This is my first attempt at an Eroica fic. I’ve written tons of QAF stories - both UK and US. Also La Femme Nikita. So it is with GREAT thanks and many long hours that I have to thank two people for their help. Thank you to Alexis for helping me with some techie inspiration and for betaing the story when it was done. And MANY thanks to Nico for spending months (literally) - talking me through, making suggestions, helping me with the German and so many many things in the creation of this fic. She made me work (!!!) for this story, and it’s all the better for her suggestions. Hugs to you both.
Special Thanks to Eve! This fic was supposed to be in the zine she’s working to create, but I couldn’t make the deadline…lol. The special thanks comes from her literally saving the story’s life twice. She was able to resend me my original outline after first my computer crashed and had to be reformatted, and then when I lost the outline after the file was corrupted and made inaccessible. Many thanks to you for it even seeing the light of day!
Warnings: Cursing - hehe. Sorry, I know that’s not really a warning - this is KLAUS, after all…lol.
German used:
Scheiße = Shit
Verdammte Schwuchtel = Damn Fag
Dummkopf = Numb Skull
Fick dich ins Knie = Fuck you (literally, "Go Fuck Your Knee")
Verdammt = Damn
Verdammter Dieb! = Damn Thief
Jetzt, verdammt! = Now, damn it.
Jetzt, komm! = Now, come (on)!
“Dorian In The Dark”
By
Xof
(February 21, 2004)
One would think that pain would be a distraction to anger; also that it would be something to break through the cloud of intolerant dread. But unmercifully, it proved not so as Major Klaus Heinz von dem Eberbach sat in his office watching the small trail of blood that traced the curves of his clenched hand. The crimson lines marked his fingers as they twisted and crushed the malleable flora in his right palm. A scarlet red ruin of a rose....
A calling card. Eroica's own RSVP to the summons that NATO had forced Klaus to issue when his other window of opportunity had been closed with a slam. His Chief had insisted the thief be called in after their second alternate was found dead the morning after his assigned mission was to have occurred; the first having disappeared a month before the second's death.
Which left Eroica.
The damned scourge of Iron Klaus' existence. Incorrigible thief, outrageous fop and perverted....
"Verdammte Schwuchtel." Klaus' voice sliced through the quiet of his office, signifying his own bitterness at even the idea of having to speak - let alone work, with the Englishman yet again.
"Nice to know I'm on your mind, darling." The voice - THAT voice - had Klaus jerking his eyes up from his injured hand with a snap of his neck. "And on such sweet terms too."
Klaus grit his teeth at the low tease that sounded in the space between them. The vision that was Dorian Red, Earl of Gloria, was irritatingly and intentionally provocative enough without adding the voice as well.
There the man stood with radiant blond curls reaching past his shoulders; his tall slim physique framed in a white blouse embroidered with red roses along the v-cut neck and down the sleeves, legs dipped in black leather pants and feet encased in red suede boots that covered his shins up to the knees. It was a look that spoke loudly to the man's nature and tastes. And served to make the Major vibrate with frustration at having to take the meeting seriously.
Quickly rising from his chair, the Major rounded the desk and stomped by the amused Earl towards the door. With a tone of fury, he yelled at the outer office. "Z!" The agent was nowhere to be seen, probably in hiding due to his failure to take Eroica into a conference room and stay clear of Klaus' private office.
"Oh, I'm afraid I left him a few floors back."
At that comment, Klaus growled a curse, "Idiots, all of them." He returned to his desk, after shutting the office door with enough force to almost placate his desire to destroy the closest object. Throttling the Earl was out of the question. At least until he got the compliance that NATO wanted from the thief.
Rigidly sitting in his chair, the Major made no effort to play the gracious host by inviting Dorian to sit as well. The man could remain in his elegant reclined position against the wall across from Klaus' desk. It was the furthest away from Klaus the man could be while in the same four walls.
"How did you end up here in my office?" The words sounded out in a low growl.
Dorian smiled, "Made a request to use the loo, took a left instead of a right . . . and here I am." His manner was in keeping with his obvious enjoyment of Klaus' anger.
The Major clenched his fists as he fought to keep his temper from overcoming the necessity of the meeting's intent. "Scheiße!" The thorns imbedded in Klaus' hand were a sudden reminder that in his distraction, he'd forgotten that he still held Eroica's rose. Or rather, the mess of what was left.... "Idiot." Whether the insult was for himself or Dorian, Klaus didn't pause to reason. He threw the ruined flora across the room and was left unsatisfied with the small thud that harkened its contact with the wall. He jerked a handkerchief out from the inner pocket of his suit and clutched it in his right hand. "How in the hell did you get that thing in my office before you stole your way here yourself?"
Tisking with a shake of his head, Dorian moved to stand in front of Klaus' desk. "What would a man be without his mysteries, Major?" He didn't wait for a response before looking down at Klaus' injured hand, musing aloud, "That's going to bite every time you pull the trigger in the next few days." He lifted his gaze to the Major's face, "But at least I'll know you'll be thinking of me when you do..."
Wanting to get past the inane banter, Klaus pushed a folder across the desk for the Earl to review with an impatient shove. "Thinking of you when I pull the trigger is nothing new."
With a small mischievous grin, Dorian took the file in hand and glided into the chair opposite Klaus. "This is where I refrain from mentioning the sexual connotations of that last comment and we get down to business, yes?"
The sputter of Iron Klaus' indignation escaped him with a heavy grunt as the Major kicked back from the desk, his face red with anger as he stiffly turned to look out the window behind them - fighting yet again to hold his temper. Teeth gritted like a vice, Klaus breathed out a hissing acknowledgement. "NATO has seen it fit to have me contact you to undertake a procurement of intel."
The pause after Klaus's announcement was broken by Dorian, "In other words, you want me to steal for you."
Turning back, the Major snapped. "NATO wishes it, Eroica. Not I."
Dorian kept the folder closed as he watched the display that was Klaus in a fury. The passion of the German agent's anger was electric in so small a space. Barely contained with a restraint that had Dorian aching to prod and poke until the barriers between them broke all together. Of course, he also knew that channeled in its present direction - that passion would be more detrimental to his health than was wise. Utilizing a small amount of his own restraint, Dorian asked a question more to the point. "And what does NATO wish for Eroica to procure, Major?"
With a sigh, Klaus answered. "A means to an end, Lord Gloria. Merely a means to an end...." He saw Dorian's bemused expression and impatiently ordered, "Turn to page seven, damn you." Klaus started to pace as he waited for Dorian to read the data on the item he was being hired to obtain.
"A KEYCHAIN?" Dorian's voice rose slightly with disbelief. Disbelief and not a small amount of affront at the very idea of his talents being utilized for such an errand.
"Dummkopf! It's NOT a key chain!" Klaus snatched the file from Dorian's hands, throwing it down on the desk as he returned to his chair. "It's a Key Fob. A hardware token which displays a code generated by hash algorithm in combination with a symmetric key contained in the token. A new code is generated every sixty seconds which creates a barrier against unauthorized access."
Eroica nodded, even as he unconsciously smiled at the thought that it all sounded like something out of Science Fiction. He murmured with a chuckle, "A sonic screwdriver. Who would've thought."
"Sonic what?"
Laughing outright at Klaus' question, Dorian answered with a hint of a chagrined smile. "Sonic screwdriver. It's a television reference for the "Dr. Who" series that was on the BBC. Suppose to be able to open any lock. I rather fancied the notion of it being more than fiction, as you can imagine."
Snorting disdainfully in response, the Major added what he felt was the pertinent point. "There is only one technological lock this device will open, Eroica. NATO means to see that it's available to do so...."
Dorian hedged, "So this key fob is the means. What is the end?" He leaned forward, his elegant hands pressed flat against the surface of the desk. "What system is NATO looking to crack?"
Klaus frowned as he watched Dorian tracing the edges of the folder with his fingertips, caressing the paper as he looked to the Major to answer his question. "In addition to being classified, that is irrelevant." Fed up with watching the Englishman as he molested the file, Klaus jerked the folder away. "Your assignment is only to acquire the device and give it to me."
Dorian slowly sat back in the chair, draping himself fluidly into the best position in which to display himself. "Seems simple enough."
Klaus bit out a sobering piece of truth in answer. "One agent assigned is dead, another is missing. Simple is not the word to use."
The Earl's face grew serious as he thought of his next question, "A dangerous source from which to 'procure' - then. Who's the one on tap for the theft?"
The Major opened the file to a photograph, and slide it across for Dorian to see. The man in the photo was distinguished looking, but with an obvious harshness to his features. Middle-aged, well-groomed - dark hair cut short. Stature tall and figure fit. Eyes an unusual amber brown. The eyes would have drawn anyone's notice to the man, but the cool condescension that radiated from his face was enough to quickly turn attraction into trepidation. A man of cruel distinction - one known to Dorian at a glance.
Klaus' recitation of the man's demographics was decidedly halted by Dorian's voice as it sounded bitter and bleak, cutting through - "Miguel Devon. Originally Devonshire, but he changed it. Father - one of England's wealthiest. Mother raised in Argentina, but originally of Austrian descent." The Earl leaned back away from the desk, an unpleased look on his face. "He calls himself Mig, for short."
Like a Russian fighter plane, the Major thought. He was surprised at Dorian's familiarity. Surprised and suspicious. "What is your acquaintance?"
"Little to none." At Klaus' disbelieving snort, the Earl decided to elaborate. "I've met him, yes. Families passing in the same social circles, it was unavoidable - despite my own wishes that it had been." When Klaus just stared at him with an unnerving insistence, Dorian sighed dramatically. "He is quite . . . detestable, egomaniacal and persistent in going after everything and anyone that he wants."
The emphasis on 'anyone' was more telling than Dorian had meant it to be, judging from the Major's expression. "Detestable, egomaniacal and persistent. Sounds like a certain someone in this office."
Quirking an eyebrow, Eroica made a show of flipping his golden hair back - the motion exposing the line of his shoulder visible in the low cut neckline of his blouse. "But completely without my fashion sense." He added, "And said in a different context, by say - Mischa for instance, who in this room would fit those same three words but you, my Major?"
Growling at the perverse possessive implication the 'my' represented, Klaus slammed the flat of his hand down on the desk. "Enough with this incessant foppery, you twit. Explain what you mean. What is between you and this Mig?"
Dorian's eyes flashed with annoyance as he answered. "He holds an interest in me. In Dorian Red, not Eroica - just so you know. To be frank, he desires dalliance in all things of pleasure. No one, no kink is off his scale. He has made it known on more than one occasion when we crossed paths that he wants to add me to the list of his conquests." Shifting in the chair with less eloquence due to his agitation, the Earl finished. "I can't abide him, frankly. And have endeavored to distance myself from any meeting of happenstance that may occur between us." Throwing the Major a suspicious look of his own, "Mig is a bit player. At best, he is a go-between for others. He's not spy or terrorist material. How did he play into acquiring this key fob?"
Klaus dismissed the curiosity, "By being precisely what you said, a go-between. Again, Lord Gloria . . . the details are irrelevant." He lifted the file up, returning to the more immediate cause of their meeting. "Will you accept NATO's request?"
Dorian rose from his chair, standing in silence for long moment. He watched Klaus growing more and more aggravated with the passing seconds. And then with a quiet word, he firmly answered, "No."
Standing with enough force to push his chair into the wall behind him, Klaus barked angrily, "Why no?"
"You're asking the wrong question, darling." He made a point of looking the Major directly in the eyes. "One man dead, one missing - and I'm called here as the last resort when I should have been the first. You are forced by your own admission to ask on NATO's behalf for my help, and in doing so - you've been made aware that I would have to get close enough to a man even I with my low moral code as you espouse, find reprehensible. Ask me the correct question, Major. And I will say yes."
Klaus stood as a storm rose through his body, a twister of fury - but he knew the mission had to have Dorian's cooperation or NATO's window of opportunity would close for good. Clenching his fists and fighting the desire to reach out and throttle the Earl, Klaus asked, "What question do you want to hear?"
Dorian smiled, triumphantly. "I want you to ask me, personally."
A beat in time.... And then Klaus, looking like he wanted to kill, bit out the words that needed to be said. "Would you accept my request to procure this item, Eroica?"
Laughing as he reached out to take the file, Dorian teased. "Why of course, darling. I'd do anything you ask of me, Major. Be sure of that...."
Klaus breathed out a curse, "Fick dich ins Knie."
Laughing again as he pivoted with a luscious swing of his leather clad hips on his way out the door, Dorian replied, "I may be extremely malleable given the right inspiration, but even that - in the literal sense - is beyond my abilities." Stopping with one hand on the doorknob, he turned to look back with a flick of his head - the motion causing his blouse to fall, exposing his shoulder in a provocative manner. "Care to give the insult another go?"
Seething now, Klaus shouted loudly, "FUCK YOU."
With an enormous smile at having gotten what he wanted from Iron Klaus, the Earl blew the agent a saucy kiss before giving his reply to that oh-so-perfect of openings. "Given an opportunity, my Major - it would be my pleasure."
One breath - a moment in time - and then Dorian raced out the door as various items from Klaus' desk were hurdled in his wake.
-----
*Beep* "Eroica" *Beep* "Eroica, report."
With a sigh, Dorian bowed his head as he excused his presence from a small group of guests. He made his way across the crowded room, nodding this way and that to those who knew him as Lord Gloria. It was a gathering to celebrate the latest victory of Miguel Devon's newest acquisition - a racehorse of excellent breeding which had just won yet another lucrative cup that very morning. As owner, Mig was playing up his bragging rights - considering the amount of people present and the money being spent. All of which had proved most timely to Dorian's plans.
Skirting the edges of the partygoers, the Earl made a seemingly unconscious gesture of brushing his hair back over his shoulder - the golden glory made all the more striking for the contrast it posed against his burgundy silk shirt. The motion in fact was a check on Eroica's part, fingers brushing against his ear - adjusting the fit of the earpiece/microphone that was in his right ear. Once he'd passed out of earshot as he seemingly walked to the loo, Dorian answered in a monotone that would have passed as a simple murmur to anyone happening upon him.
"On point, I can assure."
*Beep* "When are you moving on the target? We're running out of time."
Having cased the home through the course of his mingling, Eroica turned down a hallway - slipping quietly past a member of Mig's security staff who was entering the bathroom. The Earl continued to stealthily make his way along the corridor as he quietly spoke to the Major. "Despite my reputation for being able to bare up beautifully under pressure - especially when it's the right KIND of pressure, it does distract to have you reminding me like a ticking clock." He sighed dramatically. They both knew tonight's circumstances were fortunate happenstance after weeks of trying to bring the assignment to its close. Gaining access to Mig's property was rather difficult given the amount of moving around the man did, and Dorian had been more than a little reluctant to contact the man face to face - not wanting to hint at a rendezvous that he would rather avoid.
*Beep* "Then please also consider that there IS a clock ticking on this idiocy. You either get the fob to me for the handoff before midnight, or you'll be facing that little flea of an accountant without the exorbitant fee he negotiated."
Dorian turned the handle on the door at the end of the hall, closing it quietly behind him as he entered the ill-lit office. "As if money was my primary motivator, darling." Doing a scan of the room's contents, Eroica's eyes fell on just what he was looking for.... The Major was beeping in to blast the Earl for his comment, when Dorian beat him to it. "Silence please, I'm in." His voice carried over their connection as both provoking and serious. Time to go to work.
--------
Jaw tightly clenched against his own desire to spout off every obscenity he knew - in more than one language, Klaus did something he abhorred. He waited....
Waiting was a part of the spy game, a necessary function on assignment. But the Major would be damned if he looked forward to playing the game of wait and see.... He was much more a man of action. And as such, it was rather galling to be the one stuck in a nondescript transport vehicle - acting as lookout and backup, as Eroica played his own game of cat and mouse.
Of course, in the light of the fiasco that was the pre-planning for tonight's theft, it was a miracle they were this close to completing the assignment. Devon flew to a different city at the slightest whim; his private jet ever at the ready - making it practically impossible to determine where he'd be next. The key fob always with him, whatever the destination - as NATO reconnaissance had been able to determine. Eroica had made an extra effort of playing societal fop, listening to the set's rumors as he collected information on Devon's next departure. All indicators had been that he was going to fly to his house in Edinburgh, so Klaus' agents had gone ahead - but then plans had changed quickly. One poker game played, and Mig Devon had become the owner of a champion racehorse. He abruptly altered his flight schedule, deciding to stop over in London for a celebration.
The Major knew that given the time restraints, they would have to take the opportunity or the mission be damned. Hence why he was presently sitting on his ass in the dark, listening to Dorian breathe while the thief calmly went about his commissioned crime.
Minutes ticked by slowly with only the inhale/exhale of Eroica's breath to interrupt the silence; a silence that impressed even Iron Klaus. It was a mark of the most expert of talents to be able to perform such a task under pressure, without making even the smallest indication or noise to alert anyone to your activities. Had he not known better, the Major would have thought the man was either standing as still as one of those silly statues the thief so favored or that he had disappeared into the mist like some fey creature from a fairy tale.
But then after a time, Dorian's voice sounded low over the wire. "It's in hand." The sound of footsteps lightly treading down a marble corridor was followed hard upon by music growing louder the closer Lord Gloria moved back towards the party. Then there were voices talking, speaking to the Earl as he walked through the main room - his answering responses were both outlandish and yet dismissive, as if he had grown bored with his surroundings and were going to call it an evening.
Klaus listened as the thief said farewell to a few gossipmongers he seemed familiar with, waiting for Eroica to be free to speak to him once more. Finally, it seemed that the night was almost at mission end as the Earl went to retrieve his coat. "Meet me...." Dorian's instructions were abruptly cut short as a loud gasp escaped him, blaring through the wire into Klaus' ear. With a voice laced with surprise, he spoke again. One word, one name telling the Major that all was not well.... "Mig!"
-------
"Lord Gloria, I've caught you now."
Words, crisp and rough - a hiss in Dorian's ear as he was jerked back, just feet from making his exit. Jerked back and around to find himself staring at the man who was his host. Miguel Devon, in the flesh. Flesh that the Earl had been trying to avoid meeting up with ever since he'd entered the party earlier in the evening. Before he could say anything distracting or flip enough to answer Mig's greeting, Dorian found himself hustled rather abruptly across the entrance way and into a side room away from the public eye.
With a whirl and a thrust, the Earl was pressed back against the closed door - trapped by the full length of Mig's body as it held him captive. The yelp that escaped the thief was a tad undignified, but considering the situation - even the Major would probably have....
Oh dear. The Major....
Dorian's thought was interrupted by Devon's hot breath, harshly blown against the skin of his neck. "Dori-boy, you're trapped. No escaping me this time." The Earl jerked his head to the other side, trying to keep his mic'ed ear from showing through the tangle of his hair. Hair that was now fisted in Devon's hands.
With a hiss at having his head held in so tight a grip, the Earl snapped, "I am no man's 'Dori-boy.' Let me go, Devon." He tried to push against the man's solid frame, but barely made a budge in his attempt to free himself. He was repulsed by the man holding him captive, by his manner - his presumption - his having crudely crossed the line. It didn't help that Dorian was startled and afraid at having almost been caught. Almost - hell, maybe still about to be, if Mig found the evidence on him.... But Devon's designs were altogether of a different ilk as the Earl was finding out.
Pulling Dorian's head back, Mig laughed. "Ahh, there's the fire I've heard about. Keep trying to get away. I like it." He leaned in and licked a line from the Earl's throat up to his chin.
Shivering at the brazen audacity, Dorian gasped as Devon's free hand began to wander over his body. "I'm not in the mood for this, now let me go. You're drunk." He shuddered at the smell of alcohol on the man's breath, at having it placed on his own skin. It made him feel dirty and misused.
Clutching the Earl now by both wrists, Mig clicked out a negative sound with his tongue. "This is MY night, Dori-boy. Fate's very happy with me. A horse, a winning run - and now you - under my fingers. Leaves me very in the mood for MORE." Pressing closer with no space between them, he lewdly taunted the Englishman as he circled his hips against Dorian's own. "There are rumors, Dori-boy. Wonderfully dirty tales about you. How you respond to any touch, how you moan and arch like your blood is on fire.... As wanton in bed as a cat in heat. Willing to do and take anything, anyone - and all with just a few strokes in all the right places." His voice had lowered in a rough vicious assault that had the Earl flinching in fury and trepidation. Devon growled his last words, "Mark me well, Dori-boy. I mean to know the truth of it, right .... now!"
With a sudden lunge forward, Devon raked his teeth down to the base of Dorian's throat until he could bite at the flesh of the Earl's collarbone. Harsh, without any caution save that of not breaking the skin - the man sucked and laughed as Dorian cried out in pain.
Sod circumspect necessity, he was NOT going to take anymore of this treatment for the sake of trying to hide behind facade.
Struggling to break away and to get the man off him - without care if it caused him damage in the process, the Earl cursed heatedly as he wrenched his wrists free from Mig's hold. With a determined grunt, Eroica did what he could to surprise the oaf that had him cornered. Boot heel stomped down and ground into the toe of Devon's shoe, heel of his palm brought up to slam against Mig's nose - then the other hand clutching the brute's balls in a tight clenched fist. It was with great satisfaction that the Earl heard the man squeak out a yell before he landed on his ass with a fierce shove by Dorian.
He quickly grabbed for the doorknob as he spit out, "Fucking you would be an insult to tom cats everywhere, you sonofabitch." Almost out the room, Dorian cried out as Devon made a grab for him from his position on his knees. Blunt fingers caught the back of the Englishman's burgundy blouse, ripping it in a line from waist to collar as the Earl kicked back to strike at Mig's arm. Racing out into the entranceway, Dorian jerked open the front door and ran down the stairs into the black cold London night....
- - - - - - -
*Beep* "Eroica!! Report, damn you!"
Panting breaths echoed through the digital link, but no answer was given to the Major's demand for acknowledgement. The man was running like a fiend by the sound of it. Klaus looked at his watch. Damn idiot. The Earl needed to make their rendezvous within the hour or the trade off to NATO would be for nothing. He didn't want to think about how disheveled Devon's attack and Eroica's near capture must have made the Earl. The possibility of it causing the mission's ruin so close to its successful conclusion was heinous and unthinkable.
*Beep* "Answer me, NOW! Where the hell are you going?"
"Char..." Panting as he was obviously trying to breathe in enough air to answer, Dorian's voice sounded in a rush. "The rendezvous, of course." The Major almost interrupted him but stopped when Eroica added, "I'll be there in twenty minutes, Major. You know the room." Klaus listened as the Earl called out to someone, "Charlotte Street Hotel, please." A cab driver apparently.
The Major cursed loudly as he turned to take the driver's seat. Pulling out into traffic, he murmured darkly. "You had better be there or I'll personally take this mission's failure out of your damned hide."
- - - - - - -
The rendezvous point had been planned ahead of time. It needed to be someplace inconspicuous, but well appointed. Off the beaten track but close enough to the action to be a convenient distance from Devon's London home. Some place where Eroica could go that wasn't as impractical as stepping into the back of the spy van that Klaus has commissioned for the evening's events. A place where secrets would be kept, and the appearance of an English nobleman would decidedly go unspoken.
At Dorian's suggestion, the Major had agreed to meet at the Charlotte Street Hotel. A room had been acquired before the mission's start and both men held a key. With the Earl on his way, Klaus called in the notice to NATO's London office - making sure that the contact would be there for the handoff in no less than half an hour. Walking a couple blocks from the parked vehicle, the Major entered the lobby of the hotel. His first impression was that it was understated with hard wood flooring and paneling, simple in its decor with most of the splash showing up in the adjoining restaurant called Oscar. It was closed due to the late hour and only a couple of staff members were present as he crossed the lobby. All in all, it was rather sedate to what he would have thought Eroica would choose.
Any conceded thought in the Earl's favor fled in an instant when Klaus looked down and saw what was one of the main decorative features of the room - a dark enlarged sculpture of a cat. The features were smooth and blown up like a balloon rather than a feline - the piece heavy and bizarre. The Major's thoughts darkened as he heard again in his mind the words that Devon had growled at the Earl, 'As wanton in bed as a cat in heat. Willing to do and take anything, anyone - and all with just a few strokes in all the right places.' Staring now at that damn sculpture had Klaus fuming in unreasonable anger. He'd avoided thinking about what he'd overheard, more focused on the mission's success or failure than on forming any opinions as to Dorian's abuse or the words that had passed into his own ear. To have his consciousness go from mission control to ground zero of Eroica's sexual reputation - all while staring at what now looked to be fate's own caricature of symbolism....
"Verdammt." Clenching his jaw tightly, the Major stormed through the room to the elevator - stabbing at the buttons with a force that would have made most people flinch on contact. The mission, that was all he determined to think about as he rode up in the lift. He had a job to see through to the end and no other thoughts could be afforded until it was done. Of course, that mindset didn't seem to ease any of Klaus' tension or anger as attested by his stomping footsteps on the way down the hall.
The room was silent as the Major entered. Still and dark. No lights were on, which had Klaus cursing under his breath as he wondered where the hell the idiot was....
Then - the sound of water, faint behind the bathroom door.
Impatient, the Major barked out a greeting. "Are you in there?"
Dorian's voice sounding in a subdued distracted manner through the door as the water continued to run. "Come in."
Shoving the door open, the Major entered the room - his mouth opening to spout out more venom towards the English fop that was his trial to bear yet again. Only no words came.... The sight before him took away the inclination as he stood caught in the doorway by the view.
Eroica, at close quarters, bent over the salt and pepper marble basin - slapping his wet hands over his face and down his neck. The motion of his hands was agitated and shaken as he scrubbed at his throat, unmindful of the mess he was making or the way the water soaked his shirt as he worked to clean himself of Devon's taint. The blouse was opened down the front and split up the rear as it spread to reveal the Earl's back - the silken fabric barely held together by the collar and sleeves. At the sound of Klaus' entrance, Dorian jerked his head up - catching the Major's eyes in the mirrored reflection. His expression was harsh and unsure for all of a second, before he blinked in a new one like a light switching from off to on. Standing upright, the Earl took a hand towel and ran it over his face. Once the towel was at his throat, Dorian turned to Klaus with a smile that did not reach his eyes. "Present and accounted for, Major - as you can see."
What the Major saw was Eroica at a disadvantage, hiding in plain sight with the flannel as his shield. The rarity of the look held the German's attention as he walked across the marble floor, his shoes clicking as he moved. Reaching out, Klaus jerked the cloth from a startled Dorian's hand. Baring under the bright lights of the little room, the evidence.... The marks of Mig Devon's assault on the Earl's skin.
Red, the lines - uneven and harsh against the pale smooth canvas. Exposed, glaring in contrast. They ran down the length of his throat, raked in over his collarbone like a waterfall that ended in a violet bruised pool where Devon had bit and sucked his mark into the man's skin. None had broken or bled despite the assault, which was a saving grace against doubt - but the sight, the knowledge of what they represented mixed with the echo of Devon's words left the Major skidding from annoyance to burning rage. Irrational and un-rationed, he stood glaring at the Earl - his eyes hot and burning as he looked at the man who had yet again quickened Klaus' blood enough to make him forget for a moment the importance of duty.
Tension built as they stayed silent, until the crowded position caused Dorian to blink under the inscrutable glare of the Major's green eyes. Assuming his role of light gaiety like a mask, the Earl tried to hide his true unease behind a suffering sigh - released as he leaned back against the basin counter. He lifted a hand to touch at the base of his throat, caressing his fingertips lightly over the marks as he raised an eyebrow and smiled. "The pains I suffer at your slightest whim, my Major." At the blustering heat of the German's face in response to those words, Dorian moved closer even as the Major fought to stand his ground. With a whisper, "Too bad it wasn't as much fun going on as it looks like it should have been," the Earl tried to push past Klaus to escape the small confines of the room. A hard hand clamped down on his shoulder with a punishing grip, causing Dorian to eek out a startled gasp.
The Major shook the blond with a barked, "Enough foolishness, Eroica. We don't have time for your idiocy." With a shove, Klaus pushed the Earl through the door - waiting a count of ten to follow him, warring against his nature to restrain the need to lash out, his anger feeding his lack of patience.
He had to get the damn key fob from the thief before the courier showed up - and before he let his reactions get the better of his judgment. For no matter his own irritation, Eroica had done what two others had been unable to do. Now it was just a matter of Klaus holding his temper long enough to see it through to the end. All the quicker he hoped to get out of the Earl's presence. Especially before he started questioning himself as to why he was feeling so incredibly raw and on edge.
Entering the other room, the Major saw that Eroica had turned on a lamp that lent a soft glow to the darkness. What he also saw at last was the decor of the bedroom....
Pink....
Pink and white vertical stripped walls, soft rosy mauve curtains and bedspread. Pink and rose accents in all the appropriate spaces. The color of it was enough to make Klaus' skin itch. And did nothing to ease his anger.
"This, it's. . .it’s.... Can’t you even get a room that doesn't shout queer from every surface?"
More than a little of his own frustrations showing through - both from his continued manhandling and the Major's insults, the Earl snapped back. "I didn't choose the bloody room, thank you. It was assigned by the front desk. The other time I've been here, my room was blue." He stood with his hands on his hips, glaring right back at Klaus - a vision framed in pink; eyes bright and storming blue, body encased in silken burgundy remnants and chocolate leather pants. To say he looked glorious in his anger would have been an understatement. "It's just a damn room, Major. Not an invitation to lose your precious virtue...."
One second, two - and then Klaus crossed the few feet between them and shoved the other man hard into the wall behind them. Holding him at arms length, one fist at Dorian's collar and the other bracing the Earl rudely from being able to flee - fingers digging into the blond's shoulder. It was the standard treatment, Klaus' brutish abuse in the face of Dorian's.... Well, in the face of ALL that was Dorian Red. Crude shoves, harsh treatment - foul verbal attacks, and almost always from a distance. Passionate moments of what Dorian considered desperation on the Major's part - the German's actions always skirting the edge of being too adamant in the face of what Klaus protested against. Actions that would have driven most people away, but seemed to call to something in Dorian - that continued to draw him back to his Major.
Of course after a night of almost being caught, of first Devon's bruising hands and now Klaus' added to the mix as well - Dorian was at his own threshold for tolerance. It caused him to ride the edge of the situation as a way to sound his disconcerted condition - and to get a little of his own back. "All this dancing on the head of a pin, darling. If you wanted to lead, all you had to do was ask...." Innuendo and insinuation, darkly murmured.
Klaus quickly removed his hands with another shove, one that almost unbalanced the Earl until he caught himself with hands against the nearest solid surface. The Major thundered back, "You never know when to stop. Damn you! Weeks of this . . . two fucking weeks of this, of your words and your innuendo. I‘ve had enough!" Taking a deep breath, Klaus tried to cool his temper down a little and gather his composure as he continued to glare at the Earl. "The courier's in route - give it to me now!"
Glaring back in anger, Dorian closed his eyes for a moment - counting for a tick to calm himself. No matter how much he loved the Major, there were limits even to Dorian's patience. And tonight his threshold was spread thin to the point of breaking.
Of course, he didn't realize how true that held for the Major as well.
Opening his eyes, the Earl looked rather pointedly back at the man seething from across the room. He held the gaze as his hands moved slowly, deliberately to the opening of his leather pants. "As you wish, my Major." One snap, two.... His hand on the zipper, the barest start at pulling it down....and Dorian's world swung out of focus in an instant.
It hadn't been a conscious choice; just gut instinct on the Major's part. One moment he was watching in disbelief as the thief starting opening his pants and the next, Klaus had him slammed bodily up against the nearest wall, again - holding him one hand on Dorian's arm and the other.... The other buried, clutched tightly in Dorian's hair.
Panting as he struggled to step away, the Earl hissed as Klaus' fingers pulled his head back and dug into the flesh of his arm. He couldn't move, his body blocked by the Major's own - once more captive to another's strength.
Klaus bit out the words that were racing in his brain, dangerously incredulous at the Earl's audacity. "What in hell are you playing at, you fucking pervert? You're like an arsonist who's addicted to fire, never thinking you'll get burned. Always lighting a match with your words, your actions. It will not stand, Eroica. This is not a game!"
Caught close, hindered from flight - Dorian gasped as Klaus words sounded in chorus to the increased pressure of his hands. He'd be bruised come the dawn. Managing a harsh breath, he arched back into the hold on his hair to ease the tension and pull. One side of his brain firing on all cylinders at the danger of the situation and the other titillated by the proximity of the dark man that he'd wanted since the first. It was a heady mix that little resembled his earlier anger and fear under Devon's hands. Having Klaus touching him, dominating him had Dorian skirting the line between wanting to be freed and wanting to feel more of the same - whatever the cost. The danger of what the man could do, of which road he'd possibly travel....as they stood closer than they'd ever been before - the Major having now crossed the physical boundaries he'd so rigidly maintained in the past.
Dorian closed his eyes as he gasped out, "Never a game, my Major. Not with you." Opening them, he looked at Klaus with vivid blue heat - playing again at getting burned. "You're the second man to have me by the hair tonight, darling. I know it's an attractive feature, but who knew it was catnip to brutish German Majors too. Keep pulling harder and I might start to purr."
The words were a device aimed at Klaus - a means to find himself freed by taunting Klaus into pushing him away. Meant to fragment the man's control, even though the risk was great that it would not work in his favor, his purred incentive was the thief's only weapon against the Major's strength.
And fragment it did as the Major's hand dropped from Dorian's arm, balling into a fist in the man's fury. Blood at a boil - he wasn't thinking mission, he wasn't thinking at all....
The Earl hissed at the hard grip of Klaus' fingers pulling his head back. He knew a moment of fear as he looked at the hardened features of the German's face, as he took in the drawback of the Major's raised hand. Desperately, Dorian called out, "The key fob, Major. You NEED it!" Lifting his hands up in a gesture of surrender, as he watched Klaus' vision clear at the mention of that which took precedence over their mutual battle of wills. "I have it, I do."
"Hand it over now." Voice deadly quiet, the Major finally released the man's hair - taking him by both arms with a harsh shake.
Panting a little, Dorian murmured as he dropped his own hands to reach around behind him. "Easy, easy. It's hidden." He tried to squeeze his fingers between him and the wall as Klaus continued to hold him trapped. There wasn't enough room. He arched a little to create a space for his hands to maneuver, the motion bringing him closer still to the Major's hard frame. Seeing the look that skirted through the green eyes - knowing the man would take his every action as suspicion verified, Dorian assured him in a soft whisper, "At my waist, it's in the band at my waist." The words chorused by Dorian's leaning forward as he felt blindly for the inner slit at the back of his waistband that housed the key fob. Pushing against the pressure of the Major's hands, the Earl caught his breath as their bodies touched.
Snapping his eyes back up to see the Major's own, Dorian gasped at the intensity they held within.
Blue eyes held by green fire. Faces close, bodies together and the shifting of Dorian's hips bringing about more friction than the German wanted to think about. Fingers pulling, a quick jerk as the fob came free - and Dorian's eyes fell to the Major's mouth. Klaus' fingers tightened on the Earl's skin as their breath met and merged in a hot haze between them. The proximity, the possibility.... The need. The Earl’s head swam. Almost, a fraction of an inch and..... And Dorian crossed over, a sigh - a moan so hotly murmured, a "yes, please..." as he felt the barest of brushes, skin over skin. Eyes closing as he gave over and began to hope....
Until with a sudden strike, a slap - a burning sting across his face - Dorian knew the death of that possibility with bitter disappointment. Klaus' hand raised against him, hitting with sudden aim but less force than was probably intended - the closeness of their bodies lessening the weight behind the slap, the angle bad for damage. A hissed, "Damn you," sounding in the air between them from Klaus' lips.
Freezing for a second, stunned into stillness - Dorian blinked. His mind racing with the night's full dance card of abuse, first Devon now Klaus. Too much, too often.... A kiss that would never be known.
With a heart racing, his mind indignant and full of anger - Dorian reacted in his own right. Consequence be damned....
Reflexes as quick as a thief could hone them, the Earl flattened himself against the wall and shoved his hand into the Major's coat pocket - depositing the fob. The second Klaus pulled away in response to the sudden move, Dorian rounded in his direction and slapped the man across the face with enough force to whip the Major's head around. Voice raw and harsh - Dorian gasped, "Damn you back."
Klaus roared in his anger, outraged and out of control. He made to grab at Dorian's retreating back.
Dodging frantically, Eroica sped out of the way - throwing open the door and running down the hall. Nearly rushing into a startled man by the stairs.... The courier having arrived to face Klaus in the aftermath. With no backwards glance, Dorian raced through to the stairwell never stopping as he escaped the curses that followed in his wake.
Mission accomplished, but he feared a battle now fully engaged....
- - - - - - -
There's no reasoning as to when a person's mind turns from a quiet whisper of wondering to the burning underpinnings of want. The turning point may not be easily explained or acknowledged. Several factors could play a hand in the change - a certain look, a touch.... Or a barrage to the senses. All of which adds up over time until one's sub-conscience decides to play havoc with one's sense of reason. Setting one at war against a firmly held sense of duty.
A triggering moment - a glide of lips over lips and the look in a pair of eyes. The sound of a voice saying, "yes, please...." And the realization of self and of self-fulfillment may alter, changing irrevocably as if waking from a dream. Or waking into one....
Waking from a red daze to find himself in a hotel hallway after momentarily fading out, time skipping away in seconds - only to be called back to the necessity of NOW by a timid but dutifully insistent voice.
"Uhmm, Sir. Sir? Would you mind if we moved inside?"
Still staring over the agent's head, Klaus grit his teeth and jerked his head down in a quick nod of affirmation. He made to indicate that the man should proceed into the room ahead of him, when he realized his hands had strangely found themselves inside his coat pockets while he had briefly fugued out. As he drew them out, he felt the hard edge of metal inside one of the pockets - pulling the object out, he found that it was the key fob.
"Verdammter Dieb!" The Earl had done it. Despite the moment, the ... whatever it had been between them, he'd kept his head enough to finish his job - even in the face of Klaus' violence. And it railed against the Major's nerves that *he*, in the space of a moment, had lost his course enough to forget. Especially when thinking about the reason, the cause - would again take him off from the mission's path. He had a job to do, blast it.
With a shove, the Major practically pushed the agent through the door and slammed it closed behind them.
- - - - - - -
The handoff complete, Klaus left the hotel a short while later. The key fob was in play again, on its way to wherever NATO desired it to go - to do whatever it was needed for. A job well done, and in his case, finished. So why then was he not feeling accomplished?
What he felt was distracted - itchy - restless. Bothered...
Snorting aloud, Klaus shook his head. There was no wonder as to where that last emotion had come from. But as quickly as that thought passed his mind, he stopped and frowned. Bothered wasn't something he'd ever admitted to being by that.... That man.
No. No, it wasn't.... He wasn't. The subject was at best avoided. Or so he knew he'd always reasoned in the past.
But in the past, he hadn't had - known - experienced the almost that had been the earlier between them.
Damn it all. Lighting a cigarette, Klaus made his way back to the van. Long drags as smoke billowed around his head in the darkness of night, seen in the light of the street lamps and store windows he passed. Another cigarette as he pulled off from the curve.... His thoughts a blank, reason stalled as his innate sense of direction took him away towards he knew not where as he drove supposedly without purpose, and tried to not feel the unease of things left unfinished; left open and gapping in a way that fractured his steel resolve.
But there was a purpose he found, in that his aimless wondering indeed had a final destination.
With a sudden swerve, Klaus jerked the wheel as he pulled over abruptly and looked around. "Scheiße." His word - quiet but vehement.
It was at that moment that he knew he'd decided. Or rather his subconscious had done it for him. His senses felt a thousand times heightened as he looked out the window at where he was - touch, taste, smell, sound and sight. Alive. He felt intoxicated by the sober reality of what he intended, by the meaning behind it. The truth he'd never wanted to know. Before this night, before that one man....
Klaus closed his eyes, and gave a small nod. Then he got out of the vehicle and crossed the street to where he knew Dorian would be found.
- - - - - - -
When they’d had to make final arrangements for the night’s mission earlier in the day, the Major had thought Lord Gloria’s request to meet at “his” place meant he needed to go to Eroica’s mansion just outside of London - the residence that was on file with NATO as belonging to the Earl. He had been surprised when Dorian had instead given him an address inside London proper. When he’d asked, the Earl had smiled at Klaus’ curiosity.
The small two story terraced residence was in a quiet neighborhood, one that had “family” written all over it at a look. The property was in Bonham’s name, apparently. And served as a hide-away for when Dorian wanted to be in the city but more anonymous than he usually was…. The Englishman had laughed loudly at the Major’s accusation that it was there only to serve as a halfway house to hide his stolen wares in after his latest debauched thievery. The laugh was confirmation enough to leave Klaus’ back up so that the next hour of plan making and wire tapping had been a tense affair.
And now Klaus found himself again at that door, the wood painted a deep blue - looking practically black in the dark night. One hand pressed flat to the hard surface and the other on the doorknob - he stood there waiting but a moment before he reached inside his coat pocket and retrieved the small packet of tools he usually kept on hand during a mission. Setting to work, the Major looked straight ahead - feeling out the movements of his fingers as they worked the locking mechanism with a quickness and skill that would have had Eroica more than a little surprised.
With a click, the latch fell and the knob turned. And as he entered, silent and sure - Klaus had to acknowledge the fringe benefits of a spy’s knowledge and job experience. For tonight, it seemed - the Major was now the thief…. Stealing himself into Eroica’s lair.
continued in part two....
Hugs
xof
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