Wait, what? Without his coffee? Klaus peers toward both cups from the corner of his eye, bites his lower lip between his teeth and turns back to his counterpart, letting out an exasperated but accepting sigh. "Alright, fine," he grumbles, playfully nudging the teen with a warmhearted grin. "Gonna be a little cramped, but we'll make it work."
To most people, snuggling up to a younger version of oneself would be completely and utterly weird; it feels no different than letting one of his other siblings lay in bed with him though, except it's... himself? Meaning he should understand exactly why he's being asked to stay.
He, on the other hand, does wait until his teenage self is comfortable before nestling in beside him, one arm stretched above their heads while the other wraps around Klaus's middle. His fingers trace small circles along his spine, hoping it'll lull him into sleep faster, although once he peeks down and sees he's already out, it's hard to be surprised.
When he remembers his nifty telekinesis trick – that he stopped a car with, holy shit – Klaus floats a coffee over, removes the lid to add creamer and sugar, silently sips, pacified by the steady in and out of the resting body beside him, even with his racing thoughts. At some point (he doesn't remember when) after the caffeine is downed, he'd flicked the television on, scrolled a few minutes then decided on a shitty reality show, getting all settled in-- and promptly dozing off about ten minutes later.
Kind of a long night for everyone, honestly, and he can't recall the last time he'd been able to fall asleep without seeing any ghosts.
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To most people, snuggling up to a younger version of oneself would be completely and utterly weird; it feels no different than letting one of his other siblings lay in bed with him though, except it's... himself? Meaning he should understand exactly why he's being asked to stay.
He, on the other hand, does wait until his teenage self is comfortable before nestling in beside him, one arm stretched above their heads while the other wraps around Klaus's middle. His fingers trace small circles along his spine, hoping it'll lull him into sleep faster, although once he peeks down and sees he's already out, it's hard to be surprised.
When he remembers his nifty telekinesis trick – that he stopped a car with, holy shit – Klaus floats a coffee over, removes the lid to add creamer and sugar, silently sips, pacified by the steady in and out of the resting body beside him, even with his racing thoughts. At some point (he doesn't remember when) after the caffeine is downed, he'd flicked the television on, scrolled a few minutes then decided on a shitty reality show, getting all settled in-- and promptly dozing off about ten minutes later.
Kind of a long night for everyone, honestly, and he can't recall the last time he'd been able to fall asleep without seeing any ghosts.