Niklaus Mikaelson

With all of his strength, he pushed back, sending Elijah crashing into the wardrobe several feet away, then he was on his feet, replacing his hand around his brother’s throat and lifting him up from the floor. He could destroy him right there. Just tighten his grip and watch Elijah’s head roll across the room, and that was the thought that made him smirk as his eyes traveled over the body he held in front of him. “Had enough yet?”

Klaus considered his answer for a moment. His next words could take any number of directions, and have many different outcomes. But in the end, he chose to reach down and wrap his slender fingers around Elijah’s throat, just tight enough to make the slightest promise of a threat, and never breaking eye contact, he said, with all the intention he could muster, “Because, dear Elijah, I’m the only one you’ll ever think of as a challenge.”

He knew he was playing a very dangerous game. One in which might make Elijah simply walk away for the evening, to find entertainment elsewhere. But he had to try. It was his own sort of challenge for himself: how far could he push until Elijah forced him to break. 

Quickly, Klaus tired of the way they were standing, and instead pushed his brother back towards the bed. Furniture was easier to replace than the walls themselves, after all. And with his hand moving at a pace that would easily send Elijah tumbling over the edge, he slowed suddenly and whispered in a way that was just short of begging, “Touch me.”

The taste of his own blood made it harder for him to keep focused on staying composed, not that it made much of a difference considering how much of his composure he’d already lost. 

Elijah sought friction that Klaus was happy to provide. His hand moved in ways he knew would be most effective. After all, he’d had centuries to learn exactly what made his brother tick.

“If you were trying to win the girl’s trust, perhaps poisoning her one true love was not the most splendid idea.“

He hated the loss of most motion, but he still had some semblance of control. Doing what little he could with Klaus attached to him, he moved one arm so that it was braced on the wall and pulled the other one up to grip his brother’s shoulder. If he was going to lose the rest of his control, he wasn’t losing it without a fight.

Perhaps... Klaus thought as he pulled away from the other man’s neck, dripping blood as he went, but also speeding up his movements further south. He wanted to unravel Elijah with the mere touch of only one hand. It would be his own cherished victory, as if he hadn’t had countless others in the past due to identical circumstances. And as his mouth met his brother’s, it even moved in the way he knew it would. Desperately.

As he made eye contact with Klaus he couldn’t help but marvel at the hybrid’s eyes. The bright yellow stood in such strong contrast to the blackening of his veins. He knew his own eyes had turned black. He could feel the veins pulsing across his cheekbones, a sure sign to the other man that Elijah’s cherished control was soon to be completely gone.

With one hand holding his brother’s neck closer, the other one began to move. So torturously slow that the motion would be barely perceptible without enhanced senses. but he knew that every single one of Elijah’s nerve endings were fully aware of the twists of his hand, in a way that had become so familiar it was almost a reflex. He truly had forever, and if he wanted to he could prolong this, but they both knew of Klaus’ impatience, and the way he’d give in soon. Perhaps when he was finished tasting the very essence of his brother.

Not even a few moments ago they had been standing fully clothed trying to falsely entertain themselves with the women that Klaus had found for them. He could feel the heroin from his still flowing through his system and it was making him feel very bold. He pushed them both of the bed and across the room, slamming Klaus’ back against the wall. “You can’t take anything from me, dear brother” he teased, before pressing their mouths together once again. 

The hand that now traveled lower, slowly, further from the heart and closer to where it was working so hard to send the blood that gave his brother’s entire body a rosy hue. Controlled and yet flushed. It was a contradiction that served to amuse Klaus even when he had a multitude of other, more exciting things to think about. And finally, when his hand reached its destination, he met Elijah’s eyes as the man’s name passed his lips with a sigh, “Elijah.”

He fought the urge to pull himself closer to Klaus and instead focused his mind on trying to undo the other man’s pants. Successfully unbuttoning was not a problem, however removal was another story. Normally he would have just tore them off but he knew Klaus had recently had them tailored and he didn’t want to cause him the inconvenience of their loss. He spoke, sounding as clear and articulate as ever. “You know, Niklaus, it is quite hard to remove certain articles of clothing when you have me pinned so close to you.”

And now, Klaus was naked in more ways than one with Elijah. In moments such as these, his very soul was broken open and vulnerable, allowing the connection between the two men to reach far beyond physical intimacy. And this was why, when their family surpassed their boiling point and it was every member for him or herself, the line between Klaus and Elijah’s sides was always very blurred. It was impossible to ever be completely separated from someone you’d been so close to, and touched the soul of, no matter how much their outward appearances lied.

Luckily, the last one came loose as his back crumbled the wall behind him, and he reached up and pulled at the lapels of Elijah’s coat, as if he could somehow pull the man closer despite the way he was already pressed against him. As he pulled, he instinctively captured and bit into his brother’s lower lip, immediately tasting blood. To humans, blood meant death. To vampires, it was life. To Mikaelsons, it was everything. Life, death, pain, pleasure, hunger, craving, passion, love, family. 

His desires were only increased by the blood sharing. He backed up slowly toward the bed, pulling Klaus with him as he moved. All in one motion he pushed Klaus’ waistcoat off, tearing his shirt off with it. A smirk spread across his face as he fell backwards onto the bed pulling the other man down on top of him. 

And more he gave, as his hands pushed and pulled until Elijah was exactly where he wanted him. A hip pushed against the bed in a way that would certainly leave a mark, a leg pulled up until it was pressed against Klaus’ waist. His brother was all at once underneath him, and wrapped around him, as close as he could possibly be without crawling into the dark recesses of Klaus’ very being.

And now he stood, with a choice that had no unsavory outcome. Between the room in which Klaus spent so few nights, and the one in which he always found himself drawn to (his own being the former). However, this time, he strode forward and when he was close enough to almost touch his brother, he turned into the one that held his own belongings. After all, he’d been planning to redecorate anyway. “Coming?”

Without realizing he’d been doing it, he’d gravitated towards his brother. He paced a slow deliberate circle around Klaus, his eyes examining him as he walked, trying to decide where to start. Placing his hand deceivingly gently onto the other man’s chest, he slammed him backwards into the nearest wall, definitely leaving a dent. Without hesitation he pressed his lips against Klaus’ giving in to the desires he kept buried in the darkest parts of himself.

Luckily, the last one came loose as his back crumbled the wall behind him, and he reached up and pulled at the lapels of Elijah’s coat, as if he could somehow pull the man closer despite the way he was already pressed against him. As he pulled, he instinctively captured and bit into his brother’s lower lip, immediately tasting blood. To humans, blood meant death. To vampires, it was life. To Mikaelsons, it was everything. Life, death, pain, pleasure, hunger, craving, passion, love, family. 

At his brother’s query, Klaus’s mind raced with possible ideas, and there were many. Though most seemed a little too uncivilized for Elijah, and the rest would compromise their positions within the city. However, he settled on one and looked up to meet Elijah’s eyes, “I’m glad you asked, dear brother. I have a plan that makes these two,” he nudged the body nearest him with the toe of his shoe, “pale in comparison.” In truth, the plan was more of a general direction and the thought of blood splashed across his brother’s perfectly white collar, but those thoughts were enough to go by for now. “Shall we?” His grand sweeping gesture towards the door was accompanied by a hand on Elijah’s shoulder, meant as a promise of teamwork and solidarity no matter where the evening took them.

“On second thought, perhaps staying in would be better. Though a room change is necessary, wouldn’t want to damage anything in the library.” He spoke casually trying to keep his feelings to himself. Klaus probably saw right through him though. Without waiting on his brother’s response, he walked out of the room and down the hall. He stopped standing between two doorways, one leading to his room the other leading to Klaus’. “I’ll leave this decision to you.” He said with a smirk as he gestured to both the rooms.

And now he stood, with a choice that had no unsavory outcome. Between the room in which Klaus spent so few nights, and the one in which he always found himself drawn to (his own being the former). However, this time, he strode forward and when he was close enough to almost touch his brother, he turned into the one that held his own belongings. After all, he’d been planning to redecorate anyway. “Coming?”

(via horrorgorewhore)

mood boards: klaus mikaelson, the originals

“Glad to hear we were both tired of them.” He walked over to where his brother stood, moving to stand inside the other man’s personal bubble. “Do you have any other grandiose hunting plans for this evening? The night is young after all.” Maybe it was the little bit of heroin now in his system or maybe it was the tension in the air, but regardless of the cause, Elijah did not want to spend the rest of his night sitting in the library.

At his brother's query, Klaus's mind raced with possible ideas, and there were many. Though most seemed a little too uncivilized for Elijah, and the rest would compromise their positions within the city. However, he settled on one and looked up to meet Elijah's eyes, “I'm glad you asked, dear brother. I have a plan that makes these two,” he nudged the body nearest him with the toe of his shoe, “pale in comparison.” In truth, the plan was more of a general direction and the thought of blood splashed across his brother's perfectly white collar, but those thoughts were enough to go by for now. “Shall we?” His grand sweeping gesture towards the door was accompanied by a hand on Elijah's shoulder, meant as a promise of teamwork and solidarity no matter where the evening took them.

As he finished unlacing the corset, he peeled it off of her and drop it into the floor, letting his hands slide down her waist and onto her hips. “Let me know when you grow tired of this. I know you well enough to know you’ll be bored before I am.” That statement wasn’t entirely true considering Elijah was already bored.

On the topic of boring things, he sunk his teeth into the girl in front of him, before finally responding to his brother. “My interest in these two has already waned.” When released, the girl collapsed onto the floor in a heap. Her blood had just enough cocaine still running through it that Klaus could feel a slight tingle in his fingertips once she'd been drained. That combined with the almost buzzing that his brain did after such a snack made him lean against the wall for a moment, going back to watching Elijah's show of attempting to seem interested in his present.