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Nate all but slams his glass down on the bar, and a lesser man might have flinched, but Five Hargreeves is scared of very few things—the apocalypse, Klaus's cooking, and Luther's farts—so all he does is blink.
"I'm not following orders from a-a thirteen-year-old boy," Nate snarls.
"I'm fifty-eight, you washed up, booze-soaked rag—"
"Hey! Be nice to us booze-soaked rags," Klaus interjects, spread-eagle across one of the bar tables, flask lazily grasped in one tattooed hand.
"Shut up, Klaus," Five and Nate say at the same time.
"Rude."
Five ignores him; he's practised at ignoring his siblings when he needs to. Above them, the lightbulb flickers and sends shadows across Nate's pursed face, curled up like an angry pug. A poor excuse of a dog, Five thinks; he hopes Nate isn't a poor excuse of a man.
"Your plan is ridiculous," Nate points out. "How exactly are you going to get inside?"
"The same way I always do."
The Umbrella Academy had been a short-lived phenomenon; Five knows that most people assume every mission had been smoke and mirrors, some elaborate trick. Nathan Ford, con-man and magician, is likely to fall into that category of people; Five can respect that. He's seen the hoaxes Nate has been able to pull off.
"Hah. This is why we should be following my plan."
"Your plan has more holes in it than a sponge."
"Ooh, burn. Ben, that was a fucking burn, wasn't it?" Klaus turns to the empty space beside him where Ben presumably stands (sits? Floats? Five isn't sure) and grins. There's no obvious reply, but Klaus lets out a long, suffering sigh and then stands, sliding off the table like a snake or some springy children's toy. "Fine, fine, I'll leave asshole old and asshole older to their flirting."
"Flirting?" Five sputters out.
"He's a teenager!" Across from him, Nate looks just as confused and a little horrified. It brings up an odd mix of emotions in Five—he doesn't want some stranger interested in him, especially when his body is so incongruent with his mind, but he's still an adult.
"I'm fifty-eight!"
Another argument is ready to break out when Klaus wanders over, dumping his empty glass on the bar.
"Boys boys, chill. My first boyfriend was older than you both," he says, patting Five on the shoulder. Then he's gone, slipping out of the bar like the ghosts he haunts.
For a moment, silence fills the room, long and dark and drawn out. Then Nate looks up at him, a furrow between his brow.
"How old was your brother when—"
Five cuts him off. "Younger than you're expecting."
"...do you have a name?"
"I can get one."
"Good."
Another quiet, Five sips what's left of his drink and then stands. "We're still doing my plan," he says, and then before Nate can reply, he vanishes in a blink of blue light.
From the backroom, he hears Nate shout out a swear, and he grins with too many teeth. It's always nice to make a new alliance.