To Klaus, it was the junkie talking. That bite was like an aphrodisiac, which made for a strange but amazing high. He got thrown on the bed with surprising ease. It was an ease he recognized of those with super-strength, such as his brother. Not that his brother ever threw him on the bed for reasons such as this, but they'd been teenagers and they had had fights Klaus had never been able to win.

If he should be alarmed, it was lost on him. He loved this. He made sure he looked good as he reclined on the bed; dishevelled and willing. Oh, so willing.