Chapter Text
OMNE TRIUM PERFECTUM
"Everything that comes in threes is perfect, or, every set of three is complete".
Suburbia isn't as lifeless as the movies make out, Diego reflects. There's nothing wrong with wanting a quiet life, a cosy home and not much else. Their early twenties were messy, two lost souls who were strangers to each other; Klaus lost at the bottom of a bottle of gin and Diego with bruised knuckles and a bad attitude. He had a temper back then and he wasn't afraid to use it. It wasn't until 1st August 2014, 6.38pm, until it all changed.
He knows because he kept the receipt.
He bought a coffee - full fat, three sugars - before stomping out and some fuckin' idiot swirled into him, knocking it out of his hands.
"For fuck's sake!" he had raged, dumbstruck by the coffee all over his shoes, ready to scream at the dude in a fucking glittery cape who caused said catastrophe, but the scream wouldn't leave his mouth once he looked at the tearful, pretty face of the man stood in front of him.
"Oh dear," the man had sniffled, laughing wildly, perhaps nervous - Diego didn't blame him - "I'm so sorry, sir, - "
"Ugh, it's fine," Diego bitched, his entire body resisting the urge to be an asshole, which was new, "are you - ok?"
Well, Klaus wasn't. Diego took him and the receipt home. Five years later, he still has both.
They fit into each other's lives perfectly, although they both know Klaus didn't have much of a life back then. Diego had never fell in love, but he fell hard, embarrassingly quick, gorging himself on Klaus as if he was forbidden food. He thought it'd burn out, no love like this can last, but it never did. Love came with conditions, because despite what they say, it has to -- and Klaus put every effort he could conjure in that delicate body of his into rejecting the pills, powder and the booze. Diego's days weren't quite as long back when he was an officer rather than detective, and he could split shifts, taking Klaus to therapy, sitting by his side proudly. Klaus would bemoan how useless he was in comparison to his partner, before proving himself wrong, because Diego couldn't suck his own dick. Yeah, they had those dirty nights, Klaus happy to dress like a whore and show his gratefulness to Diego. Diego may have given him a home, but Klaus gave Diego a purpose. It was an even playing field. It still is.
Diego never pushed Klaus to be something, to do something, but he did inquire about his boyfriend's passions and talents. Klaus always laughed, "apart from sucking cock, you mean?" was his standard deflective response, until a year ago, when he came home with blank canvasses and buckets of paint. It started off small, amusing, until Klaus enrolled in a course at the community college downtown.
He's still on that course, the slow ass bitch, but Diego doesn't care. He likes Klaus being at home when he gets home. He likes sitting down at his desk to type up dull as fuck reports knowing his baby is curled up, watching Keeping Up with The Kardashians whilst idly doodling.
Klaus is sober and Diego's knuckles haven't been split for years. Diego's pretty proud of them both.
Perhaps it should have surprised him when Klaus looked at him thoughtfully all those months ago, chewing down the broccoli Diego forces him to eat on a regular basis.
"You ever think about fostering?" Klaus had asked, creeping to the topic.
"No," Diego admitted, shovelling his food in, "why, you want a kid?"
Klaus shrugged, attempted to flick the vegetable onto the floor and pretend due to floor-contamination he couldn't possibly eat it (as if Diego hasn't seen him fail at flipping a sticky, sugary pancake yet still eat it off the floor a hundred times).
"Fostering, though," Klaus continued, sagging in defeat as Diego had leant over and stuck his own fork in the broccoli, waving it at Klaus's lips, "it's like a trial run. And those kinda kids, they need a home. Which we have."
He opened his mouth obediently, chewed the vegetable with great effort.
"Yeah," Diego had smiled, "I mean, we could, yeah. I like kids."
He just didn't really expect it would ever happen. Klaus is flighty, unsure, uneasy to pin to something and Diego's a live-in-the-moment kind of guy. It was Klaus who followed through. Klaus filled in the applications with a dedication Diego had never seen before. He'd seen his lover get bored making a cup of tea, giving up half way through, and yet days turned into months of applying, telephone calls, reports, meetings. Diego attended them too, of course, but only because Klaus organised them. Their home was visited, assessed, social workers galore, paperwork scattered everywhere from Klaus' usual spot on the couch to their bedside table.
"Shit, you really want this, huh?" Diego asked one night. Klaus had looked at him a little fearful.
"You don't?"
"No, I do, I do," Diego reassured him, "I just didn't realise it was so important to you."
Klaus moved from his shoulder to lying across his lap, one of their favourite ways to chill, with Diego stroking his hair, another arm across Klaus's chest.
"I just - " Klaus stopped, laughing, "I just love you. So much."
Diego felt his blood run hot, making his ears tingle, unable to not smile.
"I love you too. So much."
"We're a family," Klaus continued, "we have a home. We could help a kid. A lost little kid. I know we'll be good at it. I think that's kind of beautiful."
Diego hummed quietly, still smiling, because whenever Klaus is in his eye-line he can't control his mouth.
"Yeah, it is."
They were cleared six days ago. Six days it took Social Services before they chucked a child at them. It was Klaus's adorable little project, in Diego's mind, until Susie rang Klaus, leaving him hopping and excited.
"We're gonna have a kid here," Klaus screeches, "fuck, I need my pink jumper. Where's my pink jumper?!"
"Why?" Diego laughs, nerves bubbling in his stomach despite himself.
"I want to make a good impression," Klaus points out, as if Diego is particularly stupid, "help me, baby. Come on."
Diego finds the pink jumper (it had been pulled off and used to tie Klaus's hands behind his back when Klaus started being bratty halfway through The Handmaid's Tale). They pace their kitchen, both lost in the daydream of what's coming. Diego watches adoringly as Klaus bounces on the ball of his feet, awaiting Susie's knock.
**
Decent enough, Five summarises, climbing out of the insufferable Susie's Mercedes. Semi-detached in a boring town was better than an inner city shithole. Susie smiles at him excitedly.
"Now, Five," she says slowly, making Five clench his fists in irritation, "let's try and get along with these two, hmm? They're new to fostering and they're the sweetest. You could do much worse," she adds on the end. Five suppresses the urge to scoff. He's glad he annoys her as much as she annoys him, at least.
The front door opens, revealing a tall man who looks like he's just been electrocuted and another with a little more of a normal expression stood behind him.
"Ah, great," Susie laughs, handing off Five's enormous binder, "here you are, guys. I told you most of it on the phone, remember, Klaus? Just give me a call if you have any questions! Five, off you go," she encourages, watching him watch her.
"Five?" the less excitable man asks, puzzled.
"Ah," Susie laughs, out of breath, "yes, Five, tell them about your name! Always a funny talking point," she grins.
Five smiles sadistically at her.
"My parents died in a terrorist attack," he informs the two bewildered men in front of him, "they headed a think-tank against right wing extremism and right wing extremists burnt them alive. I chose to let my birth name die with them. The number five symbolises balance. I think of myself as a very balanced individual."
He steps in, the two men parting warily to allow it, before shutting the door in Susie's face.
"So, a cup of coffee wouldn't go amiss," he informs them. The man in a ridiculous pink jumper looks like he might be sick, whereas the other one is barely concealing his amusement.
"Ok, 'Five'," amused man says slowly, "I'm Diego, this is Klaus. Welcome."
"Sure," Five shrugs, "and, the coffee?"
"Of course, coffee," Klaus grins, snapping out of it, "we can do coffee, right, sweetheart?"
"For a child?" Diego smiles back at him.
"I'm not a child," Five snaps, "I mean, technically, yes. I am legally a child. However, surely you've had my paperwork. I operate at much more advanced level than 'child'."
"Yeah, I didn't really... read it?" Klaus shrugs, whilst Diego looks guilty, confirming to Five he didn't either.
Five doesn't care. It's better that way, anyway.
"Look, I'm perfectly capable of running my own life," Five tells them, "I just, in the eyes of the law, need so-called adults to house me until I'm deemed old enough. I'm home schooled. I have a virtual classroom. I simply need a place to sleep and since Susie won't get off my goddamn back, here I am."
His two new hosts blink at him dumbly.
"I assume there's a bedroom up here," he nods, backpack heavy on his back before he ignores their stares and continues upwards. It's a bright and airy home, Five supposes, locating what looks like a neutral bedroom and therefore his as opposed to the bedroom of a married couple. There's no point getting too comfortable. He's never around for that long.
**
Klaus holds his face up to the steamy mirror. It's still strange to him to see clarity in his eyes rather than pinpricked pupils, but he's grateful for his sobriety every single time he's reminded of it. Slipping into a dressing gown from their bathroom he finds Diego propped up by pillows, scrawling through his phone.
"Thought you said social media after 9.00pm kills brain cells," Klaus reminds him haughtily before climbing under the duvet.
"I can afford to lose a few brain cells, I'm just that smart," Diego jokes, Klaus kissing the last bit of the sentence out of him, pulling him in tightly. He has to spread his legs to feel Diego fully, to feel his body pressed against him, skin to skin, and he sighs in pleasure as his very own officer of the law grips his thighs greedily.
"Well, at least we found our little weirdo," Klaus quips as Diego nips at his neck, "definitely had to give us the kid with a number for a name, didn't they?"
"Mm," Diego agrees, and Klaus knows he isn't actually listening. He begins to switch off too as Diego's hands span over his hips, one going for his waist as another starts to grip his hardening dick.
"Yes," Klaus gasps, "ah, just, get a little - "
He doesn't need to finish what he wants to say because Diego's moving up and fast, grabbing a bottle of lube they keep tucked in a drawer nearby, before wetting his hands and - thank God - gripping Klaus's dick, Klaus thrusting eagerly into the tight, wet fist.
"Perfect," Klaus moans, gripping onto Diego's broad shoulders as his lover jacks his cock leisurely, lovingly, peppering him with kisses, just as Klaus likes it. They move together, Klaus clumsily reaching for Diego, happy to find him perked up and just as ready.
"Diego," he stutters, lost in the rhythm as Diego moves in-between his legs, hand travelling from his waist to Klaus's slim neck. Klaus is weak for it, weak for the way Diego's strong hands can be so brutal, surrendering himself to those talented, rough fingers that know just how to squeeze and claim. It's different to how it used to be, men he didn't know throttling him so hard he felt their choke hold for weeks after, and for that he says his prayers every night. Diego's hands are anchors, keeping Klaus safe and grounded, rather than weapons he uses to make himself feel powerful.
"Ah, please - just - right there - oh," Klaus moans, a little too loud as he briefly remembers their new addition, deciding to force Diego into a rough, wet kiss to conceal his noisy mouth. Diego's sloppy and fast and Klaus is ever so close, so very close, just - there - he cries out, quieter, coming into his lover's fist, gasping as his body goes limp, grinning like an idiot as he enjoys the waves of his orgasm.
"Hey," Diego reminds him, still red and sweaty, "you're not finished."
"Oh yeah," Klaus bites his lip, before rearranging them, Diego allowing it, "enjoy the view, handsome," he winks, before sinking down to take Diego's cock in his mouth. He loves this, always has, but it's better when you truly care about the orgasm you're giving someone. Diego likes to lead and Klaus likes to be led, but when it comes to sucking cock, their roles reverse. Klaus has been known to cock-tease like the best of them, until Diego flips out and loses his patience - that's how Klaus likes it best - but it's late, and he's already come. He hollows tightly, lets the cock in his mouth snag the back of his throat and fuck his face, because Klaus can take it. It's when the body beneath him tenses, stuttering, high pitched, Klaus knows it's all over, tasting spurts of hot, salty jizz as his Diego empties himself in his mouth.
"Ah, shit," Diego whispers, chest heaving, "I never get bored of that."
"What kind of freak gets bored of blowjobs?" Klaus whispers back, offended.
Diego laughs. It's Klaus's most beloved sound in the entire world.
"C'mhere," Diego mutters, pulling him in for a playful kiss, before their dreams claim them.
Five, for the most part, is right. He is no bother. Yet that's exactly what bothers Klaus.
The creepily silent, hidden teenager they've brought into their home taps away on his Mac all day, barely bothering to leave the room except for coffee. Klaus knows he should put a stop to it, because a highly caffeinated teenager can't be healthy, but he can't bring himself to be authoritative. That, and the fact when he told Five to lay off it, the little bastard took the kettle into his bedroom.
Yeah, Five knows he's the alpha when it's just him and Klaus at home, Klaus grimaces. He's just not great at stamping his foot down, unlike Diego. It's always been easier to give in, because dominance struggles are so primitive, and Klaus considers himself heights above such outdated concepts.
Still. It does dent his pride a tad to be so easily squished under the foot of an almost-fifteen year old.
"Five?"
A week into their new arrangement, Klaus is bored of feeling like he's trying to catch butterflies in the wild. He knows the kid hates any interest being shown in him. Diego's happy enough, though, as Five is clean, quiet and he eats his vegetables like a maniac. Klaus has never seen such chaotic behaviour in a child. The kid actively requests vegetables for dinner and slices them up with the precision of a serial killer, eating in silence as Diego watches over like a proud father. Klaus tried to take the piss one night, mocking Five's nerdy vegetable love-in, only for both of them to shoot him down with disappointed glares.
Klaus knocks on the bedroom door, just to be sure, before opening it tentatively.
"What you up to, huh?"
Five meets his eyes but doesn't stop typing, like a witch.
"I'm in class."
"Oh, sure," Klaus tries to be cool, "or... we could go out? Go for a walk?"
Five is still touch-typing. Klaus has never felt more incompetent in his life.
"A walk?"
"Yeah. Fresh air!" Klaus exclaims, because Five's expression is as if Klaus suggested they eat dog shit.
"Hm," the kid sighs, "yes, I should take a break I suppose," slapping his laptop shut. Klaus wasn't quite expecting it to work but the lost little soul of his daydreams is finally willing to spend some time with him, so he's not going to waste it. The winding road that takes them around their small estate is usually a nice, quiet stroll, even if Five walks along like a Grandpa, hands shoved in his trouser pockets.
"So, you - "
"I don't talk about my life," Five cuts him off immediately.
"Right," Klaus laughs to himself, starting to bite a nail out of pure anxiety. There are times when he does crave something to take the edge off reality. His problem's always been he can hear too many voices and they're mean to him, but somehow, it hurts more when it's about a kid.
He thinks you're weird, and pathetic, I mean, you're an adult, Klaus, but a total failure. You don't even have a job. You can't -
"Hey!" Five roars at him, surprisingly strong for such a tiny individual, yanking Klaus by the arm as a car beeps obnoxiously loud at them, speeding off.
"Fucking hell, Klaus, did you not see that car hurtling towards you?!"
The funny, or perhaps sad, thing is, he really didn't. The present belongs to Diego, but without his love around to hold his hand, keeping him there, Klaus floats away.
"Oops," Klaus shrugs, "thanks for saving me," he chuckles, Five eyeing him with that look he's seen a million times before.
"Oh, also, if you swear in front of Diego, he'll lose his shit," Klaus warns him, "but I, being cool, don't care."
Five half-smiles, and for now, that's enough.
**