The High School Dance Fic Nobody Asked For - Klave
Just a little something that was rattling in my head. Not sure whether to just let it exist as is or try to continue it into a multi-part series 🤷♀️
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The building was hardly festive—it was the opposite, in fact. It was an event center than held everything from high school dances to corporate networking events. As such, everything was square and beige, intending to be neutral, but coming across as stuffy and uninviting instead. The only thing festive about the place was a half-assed spattering of streamers and balloons wrapped around the stairwell rails and the faint thumping sound of bass-heavy music inside.
What was the theme again? He wasn’t sure, but he thought it had something to do with being underwater or something like that. The streamers were all blue and green, which supported his theory. It didn’t really matter did it? It’s not like it was a costume dance. Why bother with themes anyway?
Dave wasn’t really sure why he came here tonight. His suit was uncomfortable, stiff and starched more than he was used to. It felt like he was wearing a paper bag that was tied too tight around his throat and waist and shoulders. He handed his ticket to Erica, the soft-spoken blonde he knew from a chemistry class he took the year before, giving her a polite smile as he walked past.
He wasn’t sure what he was expecting this night to feel like exactly, but he wasn’t expecting this. Despite the pessimism he felt about the whole thing, he couldn’t deny this thrum of something that felt strangely like hope, anticipation. It was like it hung in the air and the further down the hall he walked, the stronger it gripped him. He wasn’t alone in feeling it, he figured, judging by the way that couples looked at each other, hung off each other. There was an undeniable energy here that he hadn’t expected.
He turned the last corner into the dark gymnasium, passing through a thick curtain of streamers that hung in the doorway. He had to blink a few times as he entered the room to force his eyes to adjust to the darkness, registering some wandering laser lights and the occasional strobe coming from the corner of the room, behind the DJ’s table. The air smelled a little off, probably from the fog machines and Dave took a deep breath, deciding now, much too late, that this was a terrible idea. What was he doing here? Why did he decide that coming stag to a school dance was the right thing to do? He had to wear the suit and leave the house to keep up appearances with his parents, sure, but he didn’t need to come here and subject himself to his classmates. He could have gone to the park for a few hours, taken a walk downtown, sat in his truck and read Dune until it was a reasonable time to come home from the dance.
He was broken from his thoughts by a bump to his shoulder, looking to his left to see someone stumbling, realizing immediately that he recognized the face as Klaus Hargreeves. He was so clearly drunk, stumbling into his date’s side with a giggle, glancing back at Dave to say sorry, waving his hand with his lips pulled in an exaggerated pout.
“Whoops! Sorry, handsome,” Klaus said with a wink, grinning as his date tugged him, too hard for Dave’s taste, and sent Klaus stumbling a few more steps forward toward the table where the punchbowl was.
Dave hadn’t had much time to really react, but by the time he’d processed everything, Klaus was out of earshot. Dave watched the guy he was with, a tall, cranky looking guy with three piercings in his right ear, holding Klaus up by his elbow in a way that made it clear that it was out of obligation only. It put a frown on Dave’s face and he all but forgot about how much he didn’t want to be at this stupid school dance. Instead, his attention was on Klaus and his date, which wasn’t unusual for Dave, really—his attention was on Klaus more often than Dave cared to admit, whether he was alone or with his family or with whatever person Klaus seemed to be interested in that particular week.
He followed slowly, wandering his way toward the punch table. He could see a flash of silver from Klaus’s date’s hand and realized he was dumping a flask of liquid into the punchbowl while Klaus pointed at something on the punch supervisor’s shoulder, likely serving as the distraction. It was working—the supervisor’s gaze followed Klaus’s hand and he seemed to be nodding in agreement to whatever it was Klaus was saying. It only took a few seconds for the emptied flask to be emptied and for Klaus’s date to switch out the flask for the ladle, pouring drinks for himself and Klaus, nudging the liquid into Klaus’s hand.
Dave waited until they walked away to approach the punchbowl. He looked down into the pink liquid, wondering briefly what had been dumped into the bowl, but since they’d both willingly drank it, it couldn’t have been anything too bad. He scooped a cup for himself, taking a long drink of it. He got the faintest hint of alcohol on his tongue, but the punchbowl was big enough that it seemed to disperse whatever cocktail they’d poured in enough to not be very noticeable. It didn’t take long for Dave to finish off his drink and pour himself another. Maybe this would make the night somewhat more bearable. He’d have to stay for at least an hour or two to avoid any of his mother’s suspicion, so he needed a way to get comfortable. He leaned back against the far wall, nursing his punch slowly as he watched the crowd dancing under the twirling lights.
“What do you think?” A voice said beside him, causing Dave to startle a little, nearly spilling his cocktail.
Klaus was standing there with a suspiciously wide grin on his face, glancing from Dave’s gaze to his cup. Dave glanced around to see if Klaus’s date was near, but saw no sign of him, thankfully. He turned his attention back on Klaus’s glassy eyes and swallowed hard.
“Of what? You’re little cocktail,” Dave lifted his glass briefly in illustration, “Or the teenage orgy?” He joked, pointing to the dance floor, seeing teenagers writhing against each other, some awkward and uncomfortable, others fluid and practiced in a way that made Dave a little concerned.
Klaus leaned into the wall beside him, leaning his head back to rest against the smooth surface, eyes up on the ceiling, watching the lights move. “Hmm, I /was/ talking about the punch, but now you’ve got me more curious About the orgy,” Klaus commented, rolling his head to the side a little to shoot a wink at Dave.
Dave’s breath caught at the attention and he buried his blush in another long sip of his punch, polishing off his glass with a slight grimace. The taste was beginning to come through a little more clearly, leaving his stomach feeling warm from the inside out. He turned his gaze back to Klaus as he set his glass aside on the table beside him.
“What happened to your date? Shouldn’t you be out there too?” Dave asked, head feeling thick and foggy and he wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol in the punch or the thick smoke from the fog machines.
Klaus shrugged, flicking his hand in a dismissive gesture, turning to lean against the wall with one shoulder so he could look at Dave more fully, crossing his arms across his slim chest. “Hardly a date, he fulfilled his duty and left, as agreed,” Klaus said vaguely, leaning his head against the wall again, this time to the side, looking up at Dave with his head cocked, “How about you, handsome? Where’s your date?”
Dave could feel heat rising to his skin when Klaus called him handsome, but he hoped the multi-colored lights would hide that. He shook his head, lips curling up into a small smile. “No date, I came by myself,” he answered simply, searching Klaus’s face, wondering how he’d react. Would he think that was sad? Pitiful?
Klaus surprised him by breaking into a wide smile. There was a glint in Klaus’s eye, despite the glassiness that was also there. It made Klaus look predatory. “So you’re available for a dance then?” Klaus asked, voice nearly a purr as he took a step closer to Dave, hand moving to Dave’s arm.
Dave couldn’t speak. He could only look down at Klaus’s slender fingers wrapped loosely around his bicep before tracing his gaze up his bare forearm to where his cuffs were rolled up to the elbows, following his arm up to the open cut of Klaus’s shirt, unbuttoned to almost the middle of his chest. He caught himself looking a beat too long and forced his gaze up to Klaus’s, who was looking back at him with a smirk that told him that he’d been caught.
“Is that a yes?” Klaus asked, smiling as his hand slid down Dave’s to lace their fingers together and then Klaus was moving, pushing off the wall, backing up toward the dance floor with Dave towed with him.
Dave didn’t have to answer—Klaus had already started carrying him away into the crowd and Dave was moving with him automatically, his brain on autopilot while his body was on overdrive, focused on the feeling Klaus’s hand on his own, the way the bass thumped through the soles of his feet and reverberated through his chest. His brain was still trying to catch up with his feet—Klaus Hargreeves, who Dave had been absolutely smitten over for the last few months, was pulling him onto a dance floor and now, oh wow, Klaus had let go of his hand and was moving, swaying his hips side to side, letting his arms rise up above his head. His head was falling back with a broad smile on his lips and his shirt rode up to reveal an inch of skin between his white button-up and his leather pants—Oh god, he was wearing leather pants with laces up the side instead of slacks. Dave’s mouth was dry as Klaus’s head came back up, gaze landing on Dave.
It wasn’t until Klaus’s expression shifted into a pout, forearms coming down to rest on Dave’s shoulders that Dave’s head began to get with the program. Klaus leaned in and spoke against Dave’s ear, cheek to cheek, and his heart stuttered.
“Not gonna dance with me, Davey?” He asked, still swaying, now moving in closer, swaying against Dave and Dave could see his opportunity quickly slipping away. He needed to move and soon.
He brought a shaky hand up to Klaus’s hip, thumb skating over the skin between his shirt and his pants and then he was moving, matching Klaus’s movements, swaying with him. His movements were shy at first, but Klaus’s bright, happy laugh gave him a little confidence. Klaus wrapped his arms more fully around Dave’s neck and Dave took the opportunity to wrap his own arms around Klaus’s waist, reeling him in a little closer as they moved. Klaus lifted his head and looked at Dave, much closer now. He was close enough that Dave could smell the alcohol on his breath mixed with the scent Klaus was wearing, something faintly floral and woody.
“You’re not bad at this, Katz,” Klaus said, lips curling up into a lazy smile, one that had Dave’s stomach flipping a somersault.
“You’re not bad yourself, Hargreeves.”
Klaus laughed, eyes crinkling at the corners as he let his head fall back, arms tightening around Dave’s neck to keep himself upright. Dave didn’t mind.
“You look great tonight,” Dave complimented, words spilling out before he could hold them back.
Klaus lifted his head and Dave couldn’t decide whether it was a tragedy, since it meant he couldn’t stare at the long column of Klaus’s throat, or a revelation, since it meant he could now look back at Klaus’ pretty face. The expression Klaus wore was more serious than Dave had seen it tonight. He stared at him like he was looking for something and Dave wasn’t sure if he hoped that Klaus did or didn’t find whatever it was he was looking for. He just looked back, waiting for Klaus to react.
Klaus seemed satisfied with whatever it was that he found in Dave’s expression because the lazy smile was curving his lips again. He batted his dark eyelashes coquettishly and bit his lip, drawing Dave’s eyes helplessly down to stare at the shine there. Oh god, he was pretty. He was so pretty and looking right at Dave, all his attention, right on him.
“See something you like, Davey?” Klaus asked impishly, sliding his hands down Dave’s arms to take his hand, spinning himself out away from Dave to give him a good view. Dave kept up, gently stretching his arm out to let him spin. He’d been invited, so Dave let himself look. His eyes roamed from Klaus’s face, down the line of his neck and chest where it disappeared into his just-this-side-of-too-unbuttoned shirt, the flash of soft skin above his pants, the long zigzag line of tantalizing skin that stretched from Klaus’s hip to his ankle. Dave pulled gently, spinning Klaus back in, where he landed with only a minor stumble with his back against Dave’s chest.
“I like all of it. You look gorgeous,” the music was loud so Dave leaned in to say it against Klaus’s ear and he swore he felt Klaus shiver.
“Davey!” Klaus exclaimed, turning in Dave’s arms to rest his hands on Dave’s shoulders and turn the full power of his playful gaze on him, “You’re gonna make me blush, you flatterer.”
He just smiled in return, feeling a little safer now, more comfortable. Dancing with Klaus was a whirlwind, all playful movements and teasing words, a push and pull that made Dave’s heart race. Klaus seemed to be having fun, so Dave felt a little braver the longer he danced with him.
“It’d be hard to see under these lights,” He said, pulling Klaus in closer again to speak closer to his ear, “Which is a shame, I bet it’d look so pretty.”
It felt like a risky thing to say, but Klaus just bit his lip on a big grin and looked at Dave like he hadn’t been expecting it—like he hadn’t been expecting Dave to hold his own with him. Klaus was intimidating to most people, especially to Dave, and it wasn’t uncommon for people to get flustered around him—both because he was so pretty it hurt and because Klaus knew how to wield his words like a weapon. He knew just how to tease, how to flirt, how to get under somebody’s skin.
The song ended and they stopped moving as the sounds faded into something softer and slower. Dave glanced around and saw people pairing up, arms around necks, hands on hips. When he looked back at Klaus, he was pulling away, pasting an unaffected look on his face to cover the flash of apprehension that Dave had caught the tail-end of.
“Well, Katz, this was fun,” Klaus said, backing away, though he wobbled a bit, nearly falling back into somebody before Dave caught his hand and pulled him back upright, right into Dave’s chest.
“Maybe you should dance with me for one more. Just until you get your sea legs, huh?” He teased, arm around Klaus’s waist, though he’d let Klaus go if he showed any sign of not wanting to stay for the slow song.
The thought of swaying slowly with Klaus in his arms made Dave’s pulse run fast and hot, but he could understand if Klaus didn’t want to sustain that level of intimacy for 4 whole minutes. Klaus didn’t seem to let anything resembling intimacy around him. Sure, he was a flirt and there were rumors of the things he did, but Dave had never seen him hold someone’s hand, cuddle up to someone, hug anyone. He couldn’t really picture Klaus slow dancing, but Dave couldn’t help but try.
Klaus looked around before looking back at Dave, the same serious, searching expression back on his face. After a beat, Klaus made his mind up and smiled coyly.
“Oh, I guess,” he said, as if he were doing Dave a favor, but when he wrapped his arms around Dave’s neck, he held him close, pressing up close to him with a smile tugging at his lips, “Don’t think this is gonna get you into my pants, Davey.”
Dave held Klaus’s hips, one hand splayed at the base of his spine, swaying with him again, slower, this time. He snorted a little and pressed his cheek against Klaus’s temple so he’d be able to hear him without needing to shout.
“I don’t think anyone could get in those pants, Hargreeves. They’re much too tight.”
Klaus laughed like he hadn’t expected it, the sound bright and happy and he tightened his grip on Dave, pressing his face against Dave’s neck for a moment as he laughed.
“Touché.” Klaus agreed, letting one hand drift down a little to hold Dave’s bicep, leaving room for Klaus to rest his cheek on Dave’s shoulder.
Dave’s heart soared, it felt like it was going to beat clear out of his chest—could Klaus feel it? He didn’t close his eyes, not wanting to be /that/ cheeseball, but he let his eyes unfocus somewhere on the floor over Klaus’s shoulder and just tried to memorize the feeling. He was pretty sure he wasn’t going to get this opportunity again, so he’d need to commit all of these details to his mind. He focused on the smell of Klaus’s cologne, the warm weight of him, the feeling of his hair tickling Dave’s cheek, the slim cut of his hips in Dave’s hands.
“Dave?” Klaus asked after a minute or two of swaying in easy silence, lifting his head to look at him.
“Yeah?” He responded, not able to read Klaus’s expression, but was happy to try if it meant he could look at his face, now so much closer.
“You’ve already been the best date to a dance that I think I’ve ever had, and you’re not even my date.” Klaus said eventually, face breaking into a smile, though there was still a seriousness in his eyes when he looked at Dave.
Dave smiled fondly, “Well I’m flattered you think so. I’m honored.”
Klaus rolled his eyes, probably at how cheesy this moment was, but Dave couldn’t bring himself to feel embarrassed about it because there was a redness in Klaus’s cheeks and he seemed like he was fighting a happy little smile as he dipped forward again, resting his chin on Dave’s shoulder, snuggling in closer to him. Dave was more than happy to oblige him, wrapping his arms more solidly around Klaus’s middle. They were full-on hugging at this point, hugging and swaying like the most sappy couples in school and while Dave usually rolled his eyes when others did it...
He was beginning to understand what the draw was.
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Also available on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27389980
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