You were ready. Jacket on, flask in your pocket, that reckless energy pulsing in your chest. It’d been weeks since you and Klaus had a proper guys’ night—no Originals politics, no supernatural drama—just drinks, fights, and questionable decisions.

Klaus came down the stairs, grinning like he already had a plan.

“Alright, brother,” he said. “Tonight, we go full tilt. But… I was thinking—” He paused. You already didn’t like where this was going. “—Would you mind if Hayley joined us?”

You blinked. “Seriously? Klaus. It’s called guys’ night. You’re gonna bring your baby mama along for tequila shots and bar fights?”

“She’s not exactly delicate,” he smirked.

You were about to shut the idea down hard when you felt a presence slide up behind you. Hayley. She brushed against your back, lips grazing your ear like she owned you.

“I’ll be real with you,” she purred, voice low and dripping with heat. “If you let me come, I’ll sit in your lap at the bar, grind on you nice and slow while everyone watches—and later, I’ll get on my knees in the backseat and suck your cock so deep you’ll forget your own name.”

Your grip on the edge of the bar tightened like it was the only thing anchoring you to reality. Your jaw clenched. Breath caught in your throat.

She pulled back, licking her lips, eyes locked on yours with that wicked spark she always had when she knew she’d won.

Klaus raised a brow, completely unaware. “So? That a yes?”

You cleared your throat and adjusted your jacket, praying to every god in existence that your hard-on wasn’t obvious.

“…Yeah. She can come.”

Hayley smirked like the devil in red lipstick and sauntered toward the door. You didn’t know what kind of night you were in for anymore—but you were pretty damn sure it wasn’t just guys’ night anymore.