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Klavier is, to his behest, off his game today. He had woken in Apollo’s bed, slowly and with a great deal of resistance. As he watched Apollo’s chest rising and falling softly, brow furrowed as he unconsciously pulled himself closer to Klavier in response to the minute shifts of the mattress, Klavier made the ill-timed decision to promptly go back to sleep because waking up and interrupting such peace would be an uncontested crime.
That is, until he blearily awoke to Apollo shaking his shoulder and drowsily reminding him that he had an early meeting and should be at work. What followed was the typical mad dash of an accidentally rude awakening – Klavier flinging off bedsheets, grabbing his phone to check the time, cursing himself for consciously deciding to go back to sleep, and pulling his pajamas off while ransacking Apollo’s room for the clothes he wore yesterday.
Apollo, meanwhile, pulls himself out of bed and, bless his heart, hands Klavier his things and prepares his briefcase while he frantically tries to brush his hair and slap some makeup on. The sweet gesture makes Klavier’s chest feel warm, but the adrenaline rush of waking up with only fifteen minutes to get ready pushes all conscious thought of his feelings to the side.
As Klavier pulls himself together as well as he can on such short and unwelcome notice, Apollo waits for him patiently by the door, clutching his briefcase in one hand while stifling a yawn with the other.
“Ach, I’m so sorry to wake you up like this, schatz,” Klavier says, more than a little frazzled and distracted.
Apollo shakes his head, rubbing his eyes as he hands off Klavier’s briefcase. “Nah, don’t apologize. I have to get up at this time anyways.”
“Either way, thank you for helping me get ready,” Klavier apologizes while giving Apollo a peck on the cheek. “I’ll see you tonight, ja?”
“Yeah,” Apollo replies, cutting off another yawn. “Have a good day at work, okay?”
“Okay.” Klavier smiles, genuinely – the fact that he now has someone that looks out for him, tells him something as hopelessly domestic as have a good day before he leaves – it makes something settle in his chest. Like something he didn’t realize was missing was slotting into place and filling him with –
More warmth? No, there must be a better, more artistic way to phrase that.
He doesn’t have time to consider it further before practically flying out of the door, gifted by the image of a sleepy Apollo waving goodbye.
~
Klavier does, by some miracle, make it to the prosecutor’s office within five minutes after the meeting starts, so – not as bad as it could be, he reasons as he bursts into the conference room. Sure, he may have broken a few traffic laws on his way and pulled some risky maneuvers that definitely would have given Apollo a heart attack, but he made it didn’t he?
The glares of the Payne brothers do not go unnoticed but Klavier does his best to pleasantly ignore their disgustingly smug grins, instead putting on his sunniest smile while the remainder of his adrenaline wears off.
“Ach, I apologize for my lateness. Traffic was worse than I was expecting.”
Simon’s eyes, already dulled from disinterest in the meeting, bore into Klavier’s appearance before he looks away and smirks.
Damn his perceptiveness. Herr Samurai better not say a word, or I’ll annoy him to death today. Klavier surreptitiously tries to shoot a glare his way, but Simon pays him no mind.
Edgeworth raises an eyebrow in Klavier’s direction before heaving out a mildly irritated sigh. “Take a seat, Prosecutor Gavin. And take care you’re not tardy for following meetings, or your parking spot will be moved.”
Klavier gives a nervous gulp before sitting down as gracefully as possible. If he has learned anything throughout his time in this office, it is that Herr Edgeworth is always deadly serious with his threats.
“I suppose we’ll start over. Here are our cases for the next couple of weeks…”
~
Klavier’s attitude only grows more dour as the day goes on. His eyes itch because he didn’t put his contacts in correctly, his makeup is only half-done so he looks sickly pale and he accidentally left his overnight makeup bag at Apollo’s apartment so he can’t even finish it, and even though his clothes aren’t even dirty, he still feels grimy wearing a day-old outfit.
As if Klavier’s personal hygiene and presentation weren’t enough to put him in an increasingly bad mood, Herr Edgeworth apparently feels more vindictive than he let on – the trial for his assigned case is tomorrow, and Klavier would have to work through his lunch break to catch up on the evidence fast enough to go to the crime scene before forensics left for the day. Never mind the fact that Klavier was apparently the most competent at working under a deadline, as Edgeworth appreciatively reasoned when giving him the case – this almost felt like a personal attack, and Klavier inwardly gripes as he rapidly skims through the court record.
The victim’s arm was broken? No, no, that wouldn’t make sense with the cause of death, he fell on his back, so his arm would have had to be broken after the time of –
The abrupt sound of his office phone ringing causes him to jump almost half a foot in the air.
“Prosecutor Gavin? DA Justice is here,” the front desk secretary says, her voice tinny through the speaker. Klavier momentarily scowls and takes a breath, putting a hand on his chest to calm his racing heart. He’s fairly sure that his blood pressure today is too high to be healthy.
“Ja, thank you. Send him in.”
Klavier can feel a headache coming on.
There was no question that Klavier adores Apollo, and any other day he would be overjoyed to see him. But there was always this pressure, this need to perform and entertain and serve whoever he was dating at the time, and he usually loved it, he loved making them happy and giving them his attention and gifts and reassurance, but today it was like an itch, like something incessantly scratching at the back of his neck, and he hated it, he hated that he could barely summon up the energy to –
A knock on the door derails his rapidly spiraling thoughts, and he arranges his face into the most charming smile he can muster.
“Come in!”
Apollo enters, smiling and holding a brown paper sack with his usual messenger bag slung over his shoulder.
“Hallo.” Even through his oncoming headache, Klavier’s smile softens into something more genuine at the sight of his boyfriend’s face.
“Hey.” Apollo grins broadly before placing the brown bag on Klavier’s desk in front of him. “Were you late for your meeting this morning?”
Klavier sighs, his exhaustion leaking through in spite of his best efforts to keep it hidden. “Ja, about five minutes. Herr Edgeworth is making me pay for it with this case, evidently.”
Apollo gives a sympathetic nod, grimacing. “Darn. Well, you’ll do great since you’re not going up against me,” he says, a little coy.
Instead of finding the attempt at banter as endearing as he usually would, the itch on the back of Klavier’s neck flares up and he gives him a thin smile. “Of course, Herr Forehead.”
Apollo’s expression shifts into mild concern, his eyebrows furrowing and head tilting slightly. Klavier sees him shift his arm slightly, the light streaming through his office windows catching on his bracelet.
Damn. Panic starts flitting through Klavier’s chest, and he’s about to apologize profusely for being so curt, but –
Apollo clears his throat, cutting off Klavier’s intended apology before a single word slips out.
“Anyways, I uh, I grabbed some things for you, since you were running late this morning,” he says, a charming blush dusting his ears. He gestures to the bag in front of Klavier, beckoning for him to open it as he rummages through the shoulder bag beside him.
Klavier’s unease slowly dissipates into surprise as he opens the bag. It has a turkey and avocado sandwich – his favorite. There are a couple of French macarons in the bag as well – carefully tucked out of the way so they wouldn’t get smashed.
“You couldn’t eat breakfast with me today,” Apollo rushes out, sounding almost bashful. “S-so I thought I’d just get you something on my way, and I know you really like the café that’s close to the Agency.”
“And–” He continues rummaging through his bag, making a victorious little sound as he pulls something out. “You left your makeup bag at my apartment, so I thought I’d bring it to you.” Apollo gently places it on the desk as well, taking care to make sure it’s zipped closed.
Klavier can feel his mouth involuntarily open, his jaw hanging uselessly. He’s…he’s completely speechless.
In all the relationships he’s had, his partner has never just…done something so thoughtful without being asked. They’ve never gone out of their way (and Klavier knows it’s out of the way for Apollo – the Agency is in the opposite direction of the prosecutors’ office) just…just because they could.
“Apollo…you didn’t have to –”
“N-no! I wanted to.” Apollo coughs into his fist, his blush rapidly creeping over his cheeks.
“…thank you.” Klavier doesn’t think there are words or song lyrics that could explain the feeling in his chest, the same one he felt that morning.
Warmth, but also…
Peace?
Safety?
“It-It’s no big deal, really! Just, uh, wanted to do a nice thing, because I care about you and uh—!” Apollo’s voice becomes increasingly louder and more frantic as he continues his rapidly devolving train of thought. “Okay! I’m gonna! I’m gonna go so I’llseeyoutonightokaybye!”
Apollo just about sprints out of the office, Klavier only able to capture a glimpse of the flustered red blush creeping down his face onto his neck. He gives a disbelieving laugh to the empty air, and looks down at his desk.
Klavier buries his face in his hands, feeling heat pool pleasantly in his cheeks. What a fool he is for not realizing what this feeling was sooner.
~
It was a bit of a running joke in the Gavinneers, when they were still together. All their songs made love sound like a crime, like a trial. After all, their top selling hits had names like ‘Thirteen Years Hard Time for Love’ and ‘Love With No Chance of Parole,’ not to mention their most popular song was literally called ‘Guilty Love.’
Their music made love seem like nothing but a burden, like something with dues that needed to be paid. And yet, their lead singer was hopelessly in love with love.
Klavier remembers that Daryan would always roll his eyes and snort whenever he would gush about whoever he was dating at the time – how their eyes lit up when he held their hand or looked into their eyes for a little longer than necessary.
‘You’re a sap, man. Feels like you’re in love with the fact that they’re in love with you.’
But that wasn’t it. It was more like – affirmation. If they reacted positively, if they glowed when he gave them compliments or paid them more attention than they expected, that meant that he was putting in the work.
That meant they were in love.
Because just like the song lyrics he wrote said, love is hard labor. In order to get something, he would have to give something. And that was only fair – love is something to be earned, not just received unconditionally.
~
They’re having a home movie night at Klavier’s apartment – normally, the thought of cuddling up with Apollo after a long day of work and watching some mindless movie would have Klavier melting, but he’s more than a little nervous because of what happened today.
He has to figure out some way to give back to Apollo for his kindness – Klavier has already ordered takeout from Apollo’s favorite Italian restaurant paired with a nice wine from his cupboard, queued up a horror movie he offhandedly mentioned he wanted to watch, and bought red and yellow roses for him to come over to. But it still doesn’t feel like it’s enough.
Klavier’s realization that he’s more in love with Apollo than with anyone else he’s been with has changed everything – simple reciprocity won’t be enough. Klavier needs to show Apollo that he loves him, and then he’ll have the privilege of being loved back.
But he reminds himself that it’s something to be earned. He can’t afford any more snappish slipups like he had earlier.
As Klavier nervously paces the floor of his apartment, tapping through social media to look for ideas, he’s dragged out of his thoughts by a sharp rapping at his door.
His heart soars at the sound, and he opens the door to Apollo’s charming face. His hair has drooped a little throughout the day, and he looks a little tired, but he still beams at Klavier like there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.
In lieu of a greeting, Klavier swoops Apollo into a kiss – gentle, with no urgency to it, but hopefully with all the intent and adoration Klavier feels pressed into it. He feels Apollo sag a little against him, wrapping his arms around his shoulders before they break apart, both panting a little.
“Well, hello to you too,” Apollo says, a bemused smile paired with his now-rosy cheeks.
“I feel like sometimes a simple ‘hello’ isn’t good enough. Don’t you agree?” Klavier grins as Apollo giggles into his shoulder. “I missed you.”
“We just saw each other this morning,” Apollo replies, affectionate exasperation lining his tone. “But, uh, I missed you too.”
They eventually step over the threshold, and Apollo lets go of Klavier’s hand to marvel at the flowers sitting on the counter.
“Wow, these are gorgeous. From a fan?”
“Actually, ah, they’re for you.” Apollo’s head whips around to Klavier’s now suave expression – this is something Klavier knows how to do, he knows how to woo people. He’s finally back in his element. And yet…
Apollo’s expression is surprised, which Klavier expected but…it’s more curious than flattered. Apollo picks the flowers up, looking at them thoughtfully before gently placing them back on the countertop.
“Did I forget something today?”
Klavier lets out a laugh, adjusting his bangs. “Nein, it’s not for a special occasion or anything. I just wanted to give you a nice evening.”
Apollo’s eyes zero in on Klavier’s face for a moment before he reaches out, grasping Klavier’s hand.
“Thank you,” he says, and smiles. His voice sounds entirely sincere, but his eyes have a determined edge to them – he doesn’t seem to be upset though, so Klavier tries to brush it off as he leads them to the kitchenette, the takeout already delivered and warm on plates.
“Is this…” Apollo pauses and smells the air. “Did you get Italian?”
“Ja. I was in the mood for it, so I ordered takeout on my way home.”
“From Jerome’s?”
Klavier chuckles. “Is it so surprising, Forehead? You’re not the only one who likes their food.”
“…I guess not.” Apollo’s eyes focus on Klavier again. They’re honest and a little concerned, to Klavier’s confusion. “Klavier, is something wrong? Did…did something happen?”
Klavier furrows his brow and shakes his head. “Nein, nothing.”
Apollo shakes his head fervently and pulls Klavier down to sit at the kitchen counter, now clutching both of his hands like a lifeline.
What is happening right now? Klavier is just as confused and concerned as Apollo seems. This usually works. Klavier was good at smoothing things over, good at making people fall in love with him. It came with being a celebrity – he adapted to other people, made himself the most palatable he could be. The same strategy tended to work with lovers, a fact he admitted only to himself. Conflict resolution was easy when his charm could overshadow any personal inadequacies.
Apparently, such a strategy wouldn’t work on Apollo.
Klavier is on the verge of mentally cornering himself when Apollo asks him, point-blank: “Is this about today? When I brought you food and you were in a bad mood?”
Klavier’s heart stops and stutters in his chest. So he did notice.
“I – yes? Should it not be? I treated you poorly when you were so kind, it’s only –”
“No,” Apollo breathes out quickly, and he lets go of Klavier’s hands to gently frame his face. “Nonono, you don’t have to do all this for me. Klav, do you…?” Apollo sighs and trails off leaving a half-finished question hanging in the air. He pulls Klavier’s face towards his and bumps their foreheads together, closing his eyes while Klavier’s stay wide open.
“You don’t owe me anything. I do that stuff because I care about you, not because I expect anything back. A-and it’s okay if you’re upset sometimes, or don’t wanna see me. That’s totally fine! I’m not…I’m not gonna go anywhere, okay?” Apollo’s voice is terrifyingly soft, and Klavier feels something in his chest break a little.
Of all the things Klavier was expecting, it certainly wasn’t this. Certainly not for Apollo to offer reassurance so easily, when Klavier didn’t even ask for it. And certainly not for Apollo to be so heartbreakingly honest and vulnerable, without asking the same of him.
Klavier thought he was good at relationships and love – he knew all the buttons to press, all the lines and gestures like the back of his hand. That’s how all of his relationships had been.
They were songs – full of glamour and gestures and declarations. Never quiet, and always over too soon.
But he realizes now, as he pulls Apollo into a crushing hug, that his understanding of love is far different from what Apollo deserves.
They stay like that for a little while before Apollo jokingly mentions that their food is going to get cold. They eat in comfortable silence, intermittently broken up by Apollo telling Klavier about his day while casually knocking their feet together under the counter.
Klavier is mostly quiet for once, humming and nodding thoughtfully as Apollo fills the silence with ease. He gently intertwines their fingers together, and it feels almost too easy to lull himself into restfulness as they migrate to the couch and he hides in Apollo’s shoulder during the scary parts of the movie. Apollo laughs and makes it easier, rubbing soothing circles into Klavier’s back and making idle chatter and dry jokes during the more intense parts of the film.
It’s like he goes out of his way for Klavier’s comfort. It’s something that Klavier isn’t used to – he’s usually the one reaching out. It’s odd then, that Apollo seems so comfortable extending himself into Klavier’s comfort zone, instead of meeting him halfway. It’s terribly sweet and simultaneously overwhelming.
~
It wasn’t just romantic love that was conditional – familial love, platonic love, they all came at a price.
As a child, love smelled like nail polish remover and hairspray, of expensive perfumes and colognes. It was every brief moment that he could capture his brother’s attention, if only for a kind smile sent his way once in a while. As a teenager, love sounded like the clatter of silverware on top of skyscrapers, like roaring electric guitar raw and on display to an unfamiliar crowd, with wild adrenaline and unbridled energy pounding through his veins. With his best friend at his side, the only familiar face in the whirlwind.
Always momentary – always about that brief clarity where Klavier would feel the rise and swell in his chest, like a balloon moments away from being popped.
~
Klavier thinks the issue has dropped, something to be thought of at another time, until they’re getting ready to sleep. Lit by the soft glow of Klavier’s bedside lamp, Apollo pulls Klavier into his chest, far gentler than his usual brusque and straightforward attitude could suggest.
“So, I’m not really sure if you wanna talk about it…” Apollo starts, hesitant. His hand rests on the back of Klavier’s head, smoothing back his hair repetitively. “But I just wanna make sure you know where I’m coming from.”
Klavier gives a thoughtful hum to let Apollo know he’s listening. He thinks he should maybe be more nervous, but the hand carding through his hair has turned him into putty.
“I don’t know what kind of people you’ve dated in the past. I know they’ve probably all been like, famous or rich or whatever and had way different expectations of relationships and of you than I do. And that’s fine! I’m not judging you on the people you’ve dated,” Apollo quickly clarifies, his apology lined in his tone. He huffs out a frustrated sigh like he’s not completely sure what to say next. Klavier stills, feeling his heart twist slightly.
“But I just wanna let you know what I expect – or, I guess, what I don’t. You don’t have to get stuff for me. I don’t need flowers or nice dinners or anything like that for you to prove you care about me. I can tell when you’re putting on an act or not being true to yourself, and really, all I want is for you to just be…you.”
Klavier remains silent for a moment.
“…even if I’m not the person you think I am?” His reply is barely a whisper.
To Klavier’s surprise, Apollo snorts.
“Listen, I know who you are. Not to toot my own horn too much, but I’m pretty good at reading people.”
Klavier chuckles, and risks a glance up into Apollo’s face. His expression is kind, and more understanding than Klavier secretly wonders he deserves.
“You want me to believe you’re Klavier Gavin, this super charming rockstar who’s always really on top of everything. And you are, don’t get me wrong,” Apollo laughs a little nervously, “but you’re also just Klav, y’know? You’re a legal nerd that loves stupid romantic comedies and spends way too much time on Instagram and you’re just…you’re amazing, just like that. Just you being you, that’s enough for me.” His voice tapers off a little before he clears his throat and shakes his shoulders out.
“And that means you’re allowed to not be great all the time,” Apollo continues, his voice firm and determined. “You can have off days, where you’re pissed or sad or whatever and don’t wanna deal with me. You – we’ve been through so much together, so trust me a little more okay?”
Apollo’s remark from earlier echoes in Klavier’s ears. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’
Neither am I.
Klavier buries his face in Apollo’s shirt, clinging to his back and squeezing him into a tight embrace. His voice comes out choked up and muffled.
“How can you trust me so much, schatz?”
The part of Klavier that has always thrown a shadow over his life, telling him that he’ll never be good enough to love without labor or hesitation, lays in wait, terrified of Apollo’s answer. It’s the part of him that believed Kristoph despite his overwhelming suspicion, and the part that could barely face Daryan in prison. The other part of him – the part that found the truth in spite of his fear, that allowed himself to continue wearing his glass heart on his sleeve, wants nothing more than to let Apollo’s words wash over him like a calming drizzle.
Apollo hums for a moment, giving it some thought. “…I don’t know. I’ve…” His breath hitches, as though to catch his breath. “I’ve never dated someone like you. You make me feel like I…belong here, I guess? Like I’m welcomed, and wanted, and…” Apollo’s voice wavers.
The word won’t come out, though Klavier can feel it sitting on the tip of Apollo’s tongue. Not yet, he doesn’t think.
“I just hope you to feel the same. I’ve picked you, I trust you, so I hope you’ve picked me too.”
Klavier surges upwards, smashing his lips against Apollo who makes a startled noise at the sudden movement before relaxing and returning the kiss, albeit with far less desperation than Klavier.
They part, their faces separated by mere inches, and Klavier pulls a hand up to cradle Apollo’s head, combing through his unstyled hair.
There are only a handful of ways to describe how Klavier feels, how Apollo holds Klavier’s glass heart in his hands. And yet, Klavier has never felt safer.
“Yes. Always.”
Maybe this is the type of love Klavier deserves too.