DISCLAIMER - From Eroica With Love and its characters is the copyright of Yasuko Aoike and Princess Comics and no infringement is intended. The story, such as it is, is copyright Karen Colohan July 2001.

Author's note - This was supposed to be part of another, larger, story, but that went off on a tangent of its own leaving this little snippet high and dry. Still, it seemed a shame to waste this, so here it is...

Drifting, close to sleep, Major Klaus von dem Eberbach lay alone in his austere bed and finally allowed himself to look at the rogue memory in more detail.


Eroica... Dorian had worked speedily and successfully disabled the conspicuously high tech security system barring their entrance to the rambling old house. His initial part in the mission fulfilled, the thief made a point of following close on Klaus' heels as he and his team silently slipped inside and went in search of their objective.

Unfortunately, the floor plans of the building - supplied by an incompetent fool who would already have been well on his way to Alaska had he been under Klaus' direct command - proved to be less than one hundred percent accurate. As a result, he and Dorian somehow found themselves in a large storage closet instead of the connecting corridor they had been expecting.

Their mistake became apparent soon enough. Moving swiftly, Dorian barrelled into the back of Klaus before he could stop himself, the door swinging shut on his heels. The barely lit gloom of the entire house had contrived to disguise the fact that they were entering an enclosed space. Consequently, Klaus let out a quiet oof of surprise as he fetched up against the solid wall at the rear of the closet with Dorian plastered against his back.

"Get off me, you perverted idiot," he hissed as he realised their error. "This isn't the corridor - it's a fucking closet!"

Dorian, however, with his infuriating penchant for the inappropriate declined to back off. As a result, Klaus was forced to wriggle in a most disconcerting fashion until he was able to turn and face the thief, the wall now at his back and Dorian pressed close against him from the front. It really wasn't been much of an improvement on matters.

Reluctant to make too much noise and risk attracting unwanted attention to their location - the thought of any of his Alphabet discovering him in such a seemingly compromising situation with Eroica made his blood run cold - Klaus hesitated to simply fling Dorian away from him as his instincts demanded. Instead he raised his flashlight and shone it so that it illuminated the thief's face, intending to cow him with his most intimidating glare. He immediately wished he hadn't.

Dorian's face wore a disgustingly dreamy expression, soft even in the harsh glare from the concentrated beam of the torch. As he gazed serenely back at Klaus his eyes seemed to shine, startlingly blue. It was too much.

"Get off!" Klaus hissed again, his temper fraying more with each passing second.

He pushed slightly at Dorian then, using the full length of his body in an effort to dislodge him. The thief still didn't give way, and the action simply resulted in Klaus' groin thrusting hard against its counterpart in a positively indecent way. Dorian's breathy sigh of response had Klaus growling in unmistakable threat, but it didn't seem to faze the infuriating pervert one whit.

"Oh, Major," he purred, "I always dreamed that one day I'd make you come out of the closet. Now I find it's much more fun to be shut in a closet with you..."

"Get...off...of...me!" Klaus ground out furiously, the effect hampered by the necessity to keep his voice almost to a whisper.

"Don't be such a spoilsport, darling," pouted Dorian. "How often do I get you all to myself like this?"

"In case you'd forgotten, you damned perverted fop, we have a mission to complete!" Klaus growled.

Dorian sighed. He was obviously as aware as Klaus of that fact. But, equally clearly, he found their current situation too good an opportunity to waste entirely. Pressing closer for one last moment, Dorian tilted his face up to the major's. In the wavering light from the torch he was treated to the delightful sight of Iron Klaus' eyes going wide with anger, which gave way to shock and, finally, stunned fear as he realised just what Dorian was about to do.

Soft, warm lips descended on Klaus' cold, unyielding mouth and clung there, tasting delicately. Worse still, a moist, agile tongue licked insistently at his lips until they parted, without his conscious volition, and the unwanted intruder slid firmly inside to taste and explore even more deeply.

In reality, the kiss could probably have been measured in seconds rather than minutes, but to Klaus it appeared to go on forever. The scent of roses seemed overwhelming as Dorian moved against him, mouth and body working in tandem, to drive him to the point of insanity.

Klaus wanted to scream, wanted even more to throw Dorian off of him in a gesture of unsuppressed violence, but he could do neither. He was frozen into shocked immobility by the horrifyingly arousing sensations coursing through his traitorous body.

As suddenly as it had begun, the kiss ended and Dorian melted away from him into the shadows. Klaus was left to gather the tatters of his dignity around him as he tried, somewhat desperately, to recover his composure. Feeling exposed, he thumbed off the torch, plunging the interior of the closet into full darkness.

Perhaps wisely, Dorian said nothing, but Klaus could hear his breathing - rapid and unsteady - in the pitch blackness. He wanted to lash out, to rant at the perverted thief, but circumstances forced him to hold his tongue and his fists in check.

It took him a few moments, but Klaus brought all his iron will to bear on controlling both the unwanted reactions of his body and his fraying temper. The mission came first. Once that was successfully completed he would allow himself the cleansing pleasure of beating the unbearable fop to a bloody pulp for taking such liberties with his person.

Klaus took a last deep breath then stalked to the door of the closet and pulled it open. He ignored the silent thief, not even turning his head to see if Dorian followed him. All Klaus wanted to concentrate on now was the fulfilment of his mission. Let Eroica stew, he thought uncharitably. Let him worry about how and when Klaus would exact payment for that unspeakable act...


The memory faded and Klaus drifted back to the present. His initial anger had been tempered somewhat by the satisfaction of completing his mission successfully; enough that he hadn't carried through on his inclination to beat Dorian senseless, at any rate. Given longer still to cool down Klaus found that, instead of anger, another - mercifully unnamed - emotion accompanied his recollection of the whole incident. Unnamed, but not entirely unrecognised...

Klaus closed his eyes, hoping to fall asleep quickly so that he wouldn't have to think about Dorian, stolen kisses and illicit desires any more. The anger had been easier to deal with, he acknowledged. This new feeling was far more complex and confusing...

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