Future outtake set when KC move in together. NSFW.

His chest was pressed against her back as his tongue traced a trail along her collarbone, the combination of it with his fingers curling against her walls bringing her just to the edge, but unable to tip over. Her eyes closed as he pressed soft kisses to the back of her neck, legs shaking as he brushed his fingers over her clit. "You're so lovely," he whispered, nipping her shoulder. "I do enjoy the sounds you make for me."

She moaned softly in response as he pinched her clit lightly with his thumb and forefinger, her moan turning into a muttered string of expletives as she came, and she felt his stubble scratch against her skin as he smiled. She was breathing hard as she turned on her back to look at him, her lips parting slightly as she realized he was sucking her arousal off his fingers. He bent to kiss her once he was done, his palm steady on her hip, his tongue brushing across the seam of her lips. She moaned softly as he dragged his teeth across her shoulder and moved down to press kisses down to the valley between her breasts, flicking his tongue against her nipple before moving down her ribcage.

"I have a question, sweetheart," he said, his voice muffled as his lips moved across her skin, and she arched her back as his tongue traced the flowered vine inked on her ribs.

"What?"

"What's this tattoo from?"

She laughed. "It's me and Enzo's twinsies tattoo."

Klaus froze mid-lick, pushing himself up so that he was looming over her. "Beg pardon, sweetheart?"

"A twinsies tattoo? You know, like when you and your best friend get matching tattoos to indicate that you will, in fact, be 'best friends forever'?" Caroline said teasingly, making air quotes.

He stared at her with a look of what she considered completely unwarranted revulsion. "You and Enzo have matching tattoos?" he asked slowly, starting to withdraw his hand, clearly intent on getting an explanation. She grabbed his wrist, her eyebrows raised before groaning when she realized that he wanted the whole story before she'd get her next orgasm.

"Yeah. We were in our second year of college and Enzo and I were taking this really boring history class. It was basically impossible to study because the Professor's study guides didn't actually match what was on the tests or quizzes, which should totally be illegal. Anyway, the point is that it was finals week and we both knew that what ended up on the test was completely random, so we made a dumb bet that whoever scored higher could pick a tattoo for the other one. Just so you know, talking about my basically-brother-best-friend is not keeping me turned on."

"And he won?"

"Nope, I did! I just got the same one in solidarity. I tried to talk Bonnie into it too but she said that couples tattoos were always a mistake no matter what. I thought it was kind of romantic, but she's annoyingly practical."

"Romantic, hmm?" he asked, and she narrowed her eyes as she watched the gears turn in his mind.

"Klaus..." she groaned, half out of exasperation and half because she wanted him to start moving again.

He bent and ran his nose along the curve of her neck. "I did tell you that I liked the idea of leaving a mark on someone's body with my art. You even more."

"I don't know," she said, the last word turning into a breathless 'oh' as he slipped two fingers back inside of her, her back arching. "I think you just don't like that another guy and I have matching tattoos."

"Perhaps," he allowed, his fingertip tracing her hipbone before he bent to kiss her again.

"You're such a jealous weirdo," Caroline muttered between kisses, though there was no bite to her tone.

"You like it," he whispered, nipping her ear and curling his fingers against her g-spot, making her gasp.

"In small doses," she managed to pant out.

"You can't tell me you don't enjoy it, love. I feel that shiver run down your body when I press my hand against the small of your back as we walk, hear the way your breath catches when I tell you that you belong to me."

"Klaus..."

"Try to deny it then," he murmured. "Tell me you're not mine, Caroline. Try."

"Klaus," she said, a tinge of warning coloring her tone.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"You're a smug jerk," she muttered, her face half buried in his chest. She could feel his chest rumble against her cheek as he chuckled, curling his fingers against her walls, his other hand slipping between the cheeks of her ass, making her squeak in surprise.

"All right?"

"Fuck," she hissed, unable to decide between riding his fingers or pressing against where he was touching her back entrance, her breathing growing shallow. "It's good," she managed.

"I'd like to take your pretty arse with my cock later," he said quietly, pinching her ass before letting his hand travel down the back of her thigh, the drag of nails against her skin deep enough that he'd most likely leave a mark.

"After we unpack," she said, taking a deep stuttering breath when Klaus pushed the tip of his finger into her back entrance as he nibbled at her neck and stroked her clit, the sensations almost too much for her to handle. She heard him hum against her skin when she came, clearly pleased, pulling back to look at her and brushing a damp curl from her face with his nose to press a kiss to her temple.

"I like you here."

"Well, that's good since I'll be here every night for the foreseeable future," she teased, sliding her arms around his shoulders to rub a curl between her fingers, the other hand tracing the lines of the triangle inked on his back. "But as comfortable as our bed is, I still have a lot of closet-invading and counterspace-stealing to do."

"It's not invading or stealing if it's yours," he pointed out, letting her go reluctantly as she wriggled out from under him and slid out of bed, reaching for the jeans she'd managed to half pull on before Klaus had coaxed her out of them earlier that morning. She looked over her shoulder to see him eyeing her hungrily and grinned.

"How am I supposed to concentrate knowing that you're wearing nothing under those?"

"Like you always do," she said unsympathetically. "I have full faith in your ability to get up and walk the ten feet to the shower without jumping me."

He huffed grumpily in a way that probably shouldn't have been endearing. "Later, I promise," she repeated. "Seriously though. Get in the shower now so I can send you on a coffee mission when you get out."

"So bossy," he murmured, sitting up and stretching. She found herself tempted to throw out her unpacking plans and crawl back into bed to run her tongue down his abs, but at this point she'd committed to her non-sex Sunday agenda and she was too stubborn to admit defeat.

"Is that a problem?" she asked with a raised eyebrow, adjusting her bra and reaching for her blouse.

"Hot in small doses, as you'd say," he teased, pushing the covers off and running his hand through his hair. She drank him in shamelessly, smiling when he pressed a light kiss to her temple as he walked past her to their master bathroom, his hand lingering on the vine on her ribs for a moment too long, thumb brushing along one of the leaves.

She took a shaky breath, glancing at the door as it closed behind him. Her skin was still burning from his touch, her heart pounding in her chest. They'd been together for almost a year now, counting the time she'd spent in denial pretending they were friends with benefits, and he still made her pulse race on a daily basis, made her feel wanted and beautiful and powerful.

She'd spent way too much time at the beginning worrying that his feelings for her would fade and the only thing to linger would be physical chemistry. She'd been embarrassingly obvious and he'd noticed, but instead of brushing her insecurities off with pretty words, he'd reassured her with every affectionate touch and warm smile that he wanted a connection with her that was more than physical.

Honestly, she couldn't imagine being with anyone else.

She traced the swallow on her wrist that she'd gotten the week of her eighteenth birthday absently as she considered his words from earlier.

I like the idea of leaving my mark on someone's body with my art. You even more.

She wondered if she should be scared that she liked the idea too.

XXX

"What do you want to do next week?" Caroline asked, sinking down on the couch and pressing her cheek against his shoulder, glancing at his sketchpad. He inhaled her scent, the subtle floral shampoo that now clung to his pillows on nights when he wasn't even dreaming. It had been two months since she'd moved in and he hadn't yet been able to get out of the habit of pulling her closer in the mornings before she woke just to savor the feel of her against him. He wasn't sure he'd ever shake away the constant wonder that she'd chosen to stay.

"Ooh, that's pretty," she said, shifting so that she could get a better look without impeding his drawing hand.

"Thank you, sweetheart," he said, twirling the pencil between his fingers before adding more shading to the dragon's wing.

"For a client," he said, frowning as he inspected his work. "I think it needs something else. Been redrawing it for a few hours now, but it never looks quite right."

"Do you need a few minutes then? For your muse to visit, or whatever?"

"Don't be silly, love. My muse happens to be sitting right beside me."

"You are a cheeseball," she said, kissing him lightly on the cheek. "But seriously. Next week?'

"For our anniversary? I have plenty of ideas for all the things I'll do to you," he said, giving her a wicked smirk and taking a bit too much satisfaction in the flush that crept up her cheeks.

"Klaus!"

He could tell that she wasn't actually annoyed with him, her exasperation more fond than anything else, though from the way she was shifting against him he could tell that she had something she was holding back.

"Do you have any preferences?" he asked, studying her face for any hint of her feelings, and he recognized the tilt of her chin as her mentally prepping herself to say something she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to spit out.

"I was thinking we could go to the shop."

"For a private romantic dinner?" he asked, already planning at least ten different things they could do with her stockroom table.

She swallowed. "Yours, actually."

"Mine?" he asked, not quite daring to believe what she was implying.

"I want you to give me a tattoo," she said. "If you want to."

"What do you want?" he asked immediately, reaching for his sketchbook and eagerly flipping to a new page. "Anything specific?"

"I want something symbolic."

"The flower?" he offered, only half-joking, already trying to remember the exact slant of its petals.

"No. I want...I mean, I wanted to do something about the second I realized that I actually had feelings-feelings for you as opposed to sex-only-feelings, but that moment didn't really have any symbolic objects that I'd feel comfortable having on my body permanently."

"When was it?" he asked, unable to restrain his curiosity.

She blushed, unable to meet his eyes. "It was the night when we had the fight before we got together."

"When you walked out on me?" he asked, not particularly wanting to open old wounds but needing to clarify.

She winced. "It wasn't my proudest moment, okay? It just kind of hit me all at once, you know? I was like, in hardcore denial, and you put your arms around me and told me to stay and..." she trailed off, tangling her fingers with his and giving him a small smile. "I wanted to, and I was worried that you were just like, being polite—"

She glared at him when he was unable to restrain a laugh, setting down his pencil. "Caroline, when have I ever been polite to anyone out of obligation?"

"Well I didn't know that then," she said grumpily. "I mean, I did, but again, denial."

"Right."

"What about you?"

"Hmm?"

"What was your moment?"

He didn't even have to think about it, his lips curling into a smile as he told her how beautiful she'd looked bent over her terrarium diagram in the coffee shop. How he'd watched her hands as she shaded the sketch carefully, admired the way her teeth sank into her lower lip as she concentrated. "I knew I'd enjoyed talking to you," he explained, smiling at Caroline's raised eyebrow. "But that moment...I was curious about you. Your story, your hopes and goals. I wanted to get to know you. I couldn't resist."

"That's so cute," she said, grinning at the face he pulled at the word. "Sorry. You're just much more romantic than me."

"I'm not sure that's true," he said, tugging one of her curls between his fingers. "In any case, perhaps you don't want a tattoo of the experimental flower Bonnie gave you, but there are other options. Chrysanthemums?"

She groaned. "My least favorite flowers that I refused to sell you so that you wouldn't poison your sister's boyfriend? I'd rather have the sex plant."

"Do you still have the sketch?"

She frowned. "From the coffee shop?"

"Yes."

"Yeah. I'm sure I still have it," Caroline said, moving off the couch and walking to the section of the bookshelf where she kept all her original sketches for her terrarium and bouquet ideas. She pulled out the one labeled 'succulents' and flipped through it, sliding a piece of heavy paper out of a page protector and scanning it thoughtfully before handing it to him.

"This one?"

He nodded, taking it and running the tip of his finger along the outline. "I want this here, I think," he said, gesturing to the left side of his ribcage. "And I'll get it in color, but I can make it subtler for you if you like. Just the outline or shadow..."

"Matching tattoos?" she asked, her eyebrows raised.

"You said they were romantic," he pointed out, and she nodded, leaning against his side and inspecting the sketch.

"I like it," she said. "Even if it feels a little weird to have a tattoo of something I drew."

"I can always sketch you something, sweetheart. Whatever you want."

"I think I want the orchid," she said after thinking it over for a few seconds. "But in a purple or a blue. The real-life pink was really loud."

"That can be arranged," he murmured, already sketching the outline. "Where do you want it?"

"Same place as yours."

"Doing it over bones is the most painful area," he warned slowly, glancing at her, and she smiled, pecking him on the lips.

"It'll heal, and I totally look forward to your inevitable weird obsession with licking it."

"Is that another thing you'll only tolerate in small doses?"

"No. Tattoo-licking is highly encouraged," she said, her tone and expression so serious that if he hadn't known her well he would have missed that she was trying desperately not to laugh.

"Noted, sweetheart."

"Good," she said, curling with her feet underneath her to peek over his shoulder at the orchid he was carefully outlining. "I love you, you know. A lot."

"And I, you," he said quietly

He didn't need to look at her to know she was giving him the bright smile that she seemed to reserve for moments like this, when they were close and comfortable. He could see it in his mind's eye, could have easily sketched it from memory.

He couldn't resist looking anyway.

Hope you liked it! I love doing outtakes/missing scenes from my fics,so this was a fun one to do. :)