That whisper goes straight to Rupert's stomach, pooling there with electric anticipation. Not for the first time he mentally congratulates himself for accidentally teleporting into the bedroom of someone as wonderfully, deliciously awful as Klaus. What a fucking fortuitous meeting that turned out to be.

The scrape of Klaus's stubble on his jaw, the suggestion of lips so close to his skin, the warmth and smell of him leaning so close; Rupert leans towards him in reciprocation, lips parted in a breathless smile, nuzzling faintly with half-lidded glee.

"You have the very best ideas," He whispers in return, voice edged with hunger. His hand falls away from the wheel to splay over Klaus's nearest thigh, fingers wide as he squeezes. Pointedly. "Shall we play?"