wholeworldoutthere | The Night After Jurassic Park (March 5th, 2am)

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caroline forbes

The Night After Jurassic Park (March 5th, 2am)

It's not like Caroline not to be there late at night, and at first, Klaus thinks it might be that the lift's refusing to take her up to their floor. It wouldn't be the first time. Sometimes, they also get locked in their room, or out of it. But he lets her be, anyway, and he paints, instead. He's been thinking about his time in Narnia again, since he first drank from Regina, and he needs something to occupy his brain.

The brushes have taken a little used to, but he likes the new style it's created, in his hand. Something he's never done before, but something he still meant to do. And painting calms him down; it's always calmed him down. He's taken the biggest canvas he has, and he's painted something in dark colours, glowing eyes in the night, shapes of almost beings, and yet it's nowhere near as eerie as he'd set out for it to be, and he likes it that way. It's not actually threatening, and it was a pleasant realisation, halfway through, when he could still have taken it in another direction. It's not threatening, it's family.

By the time he's done, he heads towards his communicator to check the time, right when it beeps. A text, from Caroline, asking him to meet her in the holodeck. No, not asking him. Telling him she needs him. It's enough that he's out of their room in a heartbeat, leaving a puzzled wolf there on his own, as he heads towards the holodeck at full speed (such as it now is), the door sliding open for him. There's small smudges of paint on his face and arms - a little dark blue over his right brow and on his left forearm, an ochre near his jaw, some white by his right wrist - but he clearly could care less. Caroline needs him, that's all he knows.

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She nodded, her eyes flicking up to his. "I want-" She paused and swallowed, licking her lips. "I want to find someone else." And she's sort of expecting him to say no - Enough for today, love, you've killed the same man twice - but she lifts her chin and it's clear that she's serious.

"And you to be with me."

"I'm here," he tells her, having come close enough to reach out and wipe his thumb over the trickle of blood from the corner of her lips, "with you," eyes flicking to hers as he sucked the blood off his thumb. "I'm not going anywhere."

She nods, and she stares up into his eyes for a long moment before she leans up to kiss him, knowing she still tastes like blood, knowing that this is different. This is new, with them.

She only pulls back to catch his hand. "Come on." And she knows where she wants to go - she found it before, the first time, that there was a football game, and that's when she'd made all the people vanish.

But now, a football game is exactly what she wants. People. Everywhere.

"Love," Klaus laughs as he is pulled along, and stops her, makes her turn to him. "You're not exactly presentable yet." Never mind that he has smudges of paint; it's not as if he realises it, or as if he could do anything about it, since the paint is mostly dry. But he can finish cleaning her mouth up, and her chin. "There," he says, at last, fondly, warmly. "Now, lead the way."

There's two more - a guy standing in the crowd beside the stands, and a cheerleader - she's less careful with the last one, and she feels her die in her hands, and she doesn't let it sink in, because she's not doing that right now, but she still stops, finally, ditching the body under the bleachers.

She's finally, for the first time in recent memory, not having to ignore that gnawing hunger that never quite went away, and she turns to see Klaus with his face buried in the neck of someone who looks like a football player, and she can't help the smile, even if her mouth is still a garish red at the moment.

Klaus doesn't do quick and easy; he draws it out, knowing very well that he'll be even hungrier as soon as the program stops. But if he's going to feel worse, then he's going to make the most out of feeling good. He has the quarterback's arm twisted up behind his back, so that he doesn't struggle unless he wants to pop his shoulder, and his other hand is over his mouth, both holding him in place and preventing him from screaming as Klaus takes his sadly digital fill.

Once he's dead, Klaus lets go of him, gold eyes flashing before he shifts his features back to human. He thumbs at either corner of his lips to wipe off any blood, and when he finds Caroline looking at him with a bloody, happy smile, he smiles in return. It's a darker smile, because he doesn't have the same light in him as she does, but it's just as genuine.

She can't not kiss him. That's the thing, that she can't not kiss him, and she moves closer in a flash, and she's there, her bloody hand fisting his shirt as she drags him down into a kiss.

It's not nice, and it's not sweet, but it's real, which is what matters to her right now.

There's the taste of blood in her mouth, and different blood in his, and Klaus knows too well the heat of the kill. He's feeling it as well, and he's not going to ask her to refrain, or do anything to bring her down from that high any sooner than absolutely necessary. He kisses her back with that very heat, that hunger that's only partly about the blood, and if you ask him, it is sweet, and it is nice.

He just has really messed up standards.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, and gasped against his mouth, and it was that hunger, and she pulled back enough to stare up at him. "I chose you," she murmured, and her teeth caught his lip, pulling him even closer to her.

Klaus has no idea what she's talking about, precisely, although he can appreciate the sentiment regardless. Especially when it's in the middle of those sorts of kisses, and he holds her close, hands possessive on her waist, and kisses her back in kind, ferociously, and without holding back any of himself. They're under the bleachers, and it's a cliché if he's ever lived one, but he's never actually lived this one before.

She pulls him back with her, and she doesn't care that there's still hundreds of people, that they're cheering as she kisses him. They winning, she thinks distractedly, the side where she got the cheerleader and he got the quarterback. She pulled her back with him, her back bumping up against one of the supports as she yanks up his shirt, her nails scoring his lower back. Her mouth's demanding and the kisses are biting and it's just him. Her entire focus is only on him.

He's aware of the crowd cheering, vaguely, and people banging their feet down on the bleachers, which makes the support bar Caroline is leaning against vibrate under his hand that's gripping it. His other hand is moving over Caroline's body as they kiss, in places both almost and not in the least appropriate. He breaks the kiss only to kiss down her neck, wishing again, idly, that he could bite her, which is why he comes back to her mouth quickly, just in case the thought of it pulls her out of the moment. He really wants her to stay in the moment, especially when his hands find the front of her jeans to open them. They might not be able to do as much as he wishes, with the way she's dressed, but he's certainly going for more than a snog.

"Now," she gasped, and she's kissing him again, wanting him to pick her up, wanting him, right then, right now. She doesn't care, she doesn't care where they are, what's going on, and she's kissing him bruisingly. She knows how it's got to work, somewhere in the logic-y part of her brain which is only barely engaged, and it's the blood lust that's winning but she's actually toeing off one of her boots, pulling herself up by her arms around his neck. She's moving fast - faster than human speed, and even as she's trying to get her other boot off, her mouth finding his neck, that place on his neck that always drives him crazy.

He doesn't understand what she means by that 'now' for a moment, but they're kissing, so he doesn't ask, and after a moment he notices what else she's doing - namely with her boots - and before he knows it, he's making a needy growl from her mouth on his neck, and he is certainly not about to complain, not even if she wasn't using his soft spots against him, or for them. It's an effort, because of her mouth, to move, but he does, picking her up and sitting her up on the horizontal support bar, and she can hold to the vertical ones for balance because he's moving, pulling her second, recalcitrant boot off, and then they're in synch enough, from wanting the same thing with the same intensity, that she hoists herself up off the bar with her hands on the vertical bars on either side of herself just long enough for him to pull her jeans and knickers off.

He's kissing her again in the next instant, his hands now busy on his own zipper, and there are two cooling bodies just a few feet from them as he pushes inside her, hands on her hips, watching her face.

It's a second after she lets go, after she lets him press her against the bar, and it's brutal - both of them, the intensity and the rawness of it, and it's not human, the strength and speed that they're taking each other, and she doesn't even hesitate before she does use that soft spot against him- as she bites him, and everything in her says that she wants him to bite her as well because she's not thinking, she's just feeling. Vampire instincts don't come with what to do with the one hybrid in the world, and she's not thinking clearly but she does want it, even as she drinks from him.

Fortunately for her, Klaus isn't the sort to ever relinquish control, even when he looks as if he might have. He's very aware of exactly what would happen if he bit her, or what might, at least. There's no way to know how the nanites might have affected his bite, or his blood's ability to heal her from it, so he's not going to risk causing her the agony of a wolf bite for the sake of an admittedly fantastic shag. He growls when she bites into him, making the urge to return the favour greater, but he still holds himself in check, even with his face in the crook of her neck as she drinks from his, his hips still pounding into her, as fast as they can now make it, and it's all of it more than a little savage, wild and almost animal, but so much more than that at the same time. It's them, and what they are, and what they can be together, and it is glorious.

It is animal and raw, and she only breaks from the bite to kiss him, to yank his head up by his hair and kiss him, her eyes still dark and her fangs still bared, and there's blood there - his blood, and her other hand is gripping the bars coming off the support behind her as the she loses herself in this, the mating, and he is hers. He's hers, and she's claiming him in this, and it's insane and violent and them.

She's not long now, sweat painting her skin, and she's moaning into his mouth - anything but quiet.

Frankly, Klaus could care less about her keeping quiet even if they were in a real world, instead of a computer-generated simulation. The moan she feeds him along with his own blood is far too gorgeous to pass up on, her legs wrapped around him, tight enough that they might have bruised a human. He's not long behind her, not with the build-up to this, their feeds like foreplay, and not with the speed of their mating. It's even more difficult to refrain from biting her when he comes, but he does anyway, nothing but a flash of gold in his eyes to show for it.

He's panting against her skin, and then he's kissing her again, hands now able to leave her hips, fingers twisting through her hair as possessively as he's been holding her since she first kissed him with bloody lips.

Her legs are still around his hips but just to keep her where she is, because thank god, she's got the strength to do it, to hold herself up. She kisses him slowly, deeply, and it's love, there, and there's more of her in that kiss than he's felt before. More than the first time, when they were in the observatory almost a year ago. More than two weeks ago. It's her, it's the fire and brightness and passion, and him - the dark and intensity and patience, and she's almost lost in it.

Over them, the crowd is still cheering loudly, and Klaus could still care less. Their kiss takes his breath away; good thing he doesn't need it. And gradually, without losing in intensity, it calms down, until their foreheads are together and they're breathing against each other's lips, and then Klaus laughs, happily. "You're bloody amazing, love," he tells her, pinprick of pain on his neck telling him just that.

"We are," she says, and she feels almost drugged with it, kissing him again briefly before she actually laughs against his lips as well. "This... God." And she doesn't say anything for a long minute, and she doesn't want to mess this up. To break this... whatever they have, but she knows it's a limited amount of time until either they're interrupted by the simulation itself or by somebody else wanting the holodeck.

I'm not training with Logan anymore, she sort of wants to say, but she doesn't, even though it's been weeks. Even though it's been keeping the secret for weeks. That she'd made a choice, and it was to be who she was.

You deserve this,, she wanted to say, too, but she didn't want to start them on that road again.

Instead, she just stares into his eyes, and eventually says quietly, "I made the right choice." And it's got about forty layers of meaning, but they're all important.

"And what choice would that be?" he asks, fingers relaxed in her hair, joy and love still colouring his voice in a way it rarely genuinely is. He fakes it often, but when he does, it doesn't sound quite like this. This is true carefreeness, instead of a studied front of it.

"You. I chose you." She relaxed, and pressed a kiss to his throat, before she leaned up and licked the blood from his neck with a soft moan, and then pressed another kiss to his jaw. "I'm not training with Logan anymore, because it's you. Because I love you. Because you're mine." And she licked up the side of his neck to skim her lips along his earlobe. Being close to him, and she knows she should put her pants on, but she can't right now. She can't pull away.

Klaus is not pulling away either, but he's certainly sliding out of her, through no fault of his own. It's all biology. He makes a briefly annoyed face when it happens, but she's there, touching him, kissing him, and it can't be anything but brief.

Except her words make him frown again, and he leans back, but doesn't pull back, just enough to catch her gaze. "Did you think I wanted you to?"

She looks up at him, and she looks confused for only a split second, before she shakes her head. "He told me to leave you." She shook her head. "I'm not leaving you. I chose you, and I made the right choice." She hoped he understood - and when he slipped from her, she also made a face, but she was still kissing his jaw, and let one of her legs slip down so that her toes were resting on the top of his shoe.

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