It was 2AM.

The knock was sharp. Very much not patient.

You groaned, pulling yourself out of bed. Another series of knocks, this time softer, but in a weird rhythm.

You pulled open the door to find Five standing there, tie loosened, hair messy, looking about ten seconds away from murder. And right behind him, Klaus, grinning like he'd just gotten away with arson.

"I need an asylum." Five pushed past you and stepped inside your apartment like he owned the place.

"Correction." Klaus sang, following him. "We need an asylum."

You blinked. "What?"

"We're...temporarily homeless." Five said flatly. "Diego kicked us out. Something about...chaotic dinner arrangements."

"I may have turned the dining room into a war zone." Klaus admitted cheerfully, looking extremely not sorry.

"You threw a chandelier." Five hissed.

"It was for dramatic effect!"

"And...why me?" You interrupted blearily.

Five stopped glaring at Klaus and took in your exhausted, slightly confused expression. His own expression softened for half a second.

"Because. You're not the worst company."

He didn't elaborate. Then, quietly, less of a demand than usual:

"Coffee would help."