Archive of Our Own

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Klavier was a very normal person, in his humble opinion. He did normal things like brush his teeth at least three times a day, belt songs about the legal system, and ask his dog for life advice.

“Vongole, what am I going to do?” Klavier wailed. Vongole was ever the attentive listener, eagerly wagging her tail and looking at Klavier with wide, adorable eyes.

“I’ve known Herr Justice for two years now. Two! And yet I still know nothing about the man aside from his remarkable vocal cords and his passion for justice. I don’t even know any of his hobbies!”

Vongole whined in sympathy. Or perhaps she was urging him to finally attach the leash to her collar so they could go on their promised walk. Klavier easily settled on the former.

“If only I could have a chance to talk to him,” Klavier lamented, pacing back and forth with the leash swinging from his hands. Vongole followed his movements with a playful bark.

“I know I talk to him, Vongole,” Klavier replied, “I mean in a casual setting. Whenever we meet up outside of the courtroom, it’s always to discuss legal matters. And whenever I suggest something less formal, he immediately assumes that I need help with a case!”

Klavier sighed, draping himself over the couch. Vongole rushed up to comfort him. Her insistent nudges against the leash did little to alleviate his sorrow, but he appreciated the sentiment, nonetheless.

“I just need a chance,” Klavier whispered, as if the words were fragile enough to shatter if he spoke them too loud, “One opportunity to get to know him, and for him to know me. Then maybe—”

Klavier looked down at Vongole, her eyes a subtle brown that painfully reminded him of battles for the truth and a man who took his breath away.

“…Maybe he’ll give me a chance.”

The room was silent as it rang with the somber confession, aside from the soft brushing of Vongole’s wagging tail against the floor. Klavier sighed again, feeling no lighter for having admitted his feelings. After all, they’ve been haunting him for the past two years.

“C’mon, Vongole,” Klavier said, finally reaching down to attach the leash to Vongole, who responded enthusiastically with yips and a rough tongue against his cheek, “Let’s go for a walk.”

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It was strange how Klavier had slowly developed an appreciation for quiet.

It hadn’t always been that way. On the contrary, he used to go out of his way to escape it. He grew up in a lonely home. His parents had been kind, yet distant, like the statues that diligently guarded his childhood home. He remembered fleeting memories of warm hugs and comforting words like a breeze tousling his hair, only for the warmth to be chased away by frigid recollections of the moments in between. He recalled empty halls and rooms that seemed to go up forever, footsteps echoing in a feeble attempt to fill the emptiness with life. His parents were kind, but they were busy, always preoccupied with one thing or another. And Klavier was okay with this. After all, he had his big brother.

Of course, when Kristoph began studying to get into law school, he no longer had time for his annoying little brother. Klavier had been downgraded to nothing more than a nuisance, his cries for attention simply additional obstacles in Kristoph’s journey to become a defense attorney. The house had never been more silent. Klavier would wonder if he would turn a corner and see ghosts floating aimlessly, given how dead his home felt. Occasionally he would glance down at his hands, half expecting to be able to see through them.

Perhaps that’s why music drew him in. It was a way to break the silence, to control it and morph it into something full of life. Indeed, when Klavier first performed in front of an audience, he felt alive, as if he had finally managed to escape the aura of death his home exuded. He loved the sound of guitar strings vibrating in tandem with exhausted vocal cords. He loved hearing the screams of people, electrified by his performance as if he was conducting a current with every note he played. He loved singing until his throat was hoarse and his lungs burned, because even when he couldn’t fill the silence with lyrics, his guitar was there to pick up the slack. He was no longer a ghost haunting barren halls. He was seen, and he was adored.

And then there was a murder. His best friend, memories of laughter and crashing cymbals and drums thrumming like a heartbeat, was locked behind bars. There were screams, yes, but instead of burning him from head to toe he felt a suffocating chill. There were cries of anguish and fear as a little girl collapsed, a ghastly roar from the devil disguised as his older brother. They blend with the memory of the crowd that loved him so, a cacophony of screams so intermingled that it became impossible to distinguish exhilaration from fear.

It was nights when Klavier woke up in a cold sweat, the screams a faint ringing in his ears, that he grew to appreciate the quiet. It meant no one was dead. It meant he hadn’t ruined any more lives. He grew to despise shouting, squeals from overzealous fans causing him to wince rather than preen. He hated the screams, their excitement musked by the memory of death and despair.

And then…

And then there was one shout, a voice as clear and passionate as a battle cry, and all of his fears suddenly seemed small and inconsequential. Hearing that voice felt like the adrenaline rush accompanying an opening number. It felt like the satisfaction of placing the guilty party behind bars. It felt like the wind in his hair and the road before him as he rode his motorcycle. It felt like the first taste of warmth after years of battling the cold. It was a voice that, when Klavier heard it, he knew everything was going to be okay.

And that voice seemed to be shouting at someone from just around the corner.

Suddenly, Klavier’s heart started pounding. It was just like he was in court, sweat gathering on his brow as he fought tooth and nail for the truth. It was as if he was on stage, listening to the final note ring out, the cheers of his fans the most beautiful music of all.

He was safe, Vongole curled at his feet as he sipped coffee and slowly worked his way through testimonies and other paperwork. He was relaxed, curled in his bed as he lazily scrolled through twitter and watched the setting sun creep through open windows.

He was okay, because Apollo was here.

He absently tightened his hold on Vongole’s leash, the golden retriever just as ecstatic at the sound of the red-clad brunette. Klavier tried to wrangle his grin into something hopefully less smitten as he allowed the gleeful dog to pull him towards the voice.

When he turned the corner, he saw that Apollo was not alone. Accompanying the spiked defense attorney was Athena Cykes and, to Klavier’s surprise, Simon Blackquill. Apollo appeared to be engaged in a heated debate with Simon, and for a moment Klavier wondered if he should step between them. He then noticed the expression on Athena’s face, one of growing exasperation. Perhaps Apollo was not the one he needed to save in this circumstance…

He approached the group with Vongole leading the way, his trademark smirk curling his lips as he grew closer. Athena was the first to notice him.

“Oh, thank god!” she cried out, startling the other two out of their bickering, “These two have been at it for the past fifteen minutes at least!”

“H-hey!” Apollo squawked indignantly, “It hasn’t been that long! Besides, he started it!”

Apollo pointed towards Simon, the pose reminiscent of his accusatory stance against witnesses in court. However, with the embarrassed flush speckling his cheeks and his slight pout, he looked more like a young child accusing a sibling of wrongdoing.

Cute, Klavier cooed internally, pointedly ignoring the knowing look Athena shot his way.

“Well, when a samurai first catches sight of a possible assault from his enemies, the wise thing to do is to strike first,” Simon countered, arms crossed and shoulders not-so-subtly straightening in an attempt at intimidation. If Apollo wasn’t already so laughably shorter than Simon, it might have been daunting rather than amusing. “And to strike so sloppily on the first draw… It was an insult!”

“Wha- What’s that supposed to mean!?” Apollo exclaimed, “I’m right, and you know it!”

“Oh please,” Simon scoffed, “Anyone who thinks that Sayuka is the best character deserves neither rights nor respect and will receive none from me.”

“Oh, and yet you want me to believe that Minoto is better than her!?” Apollo glared, advancing on Simon and rising to his toes to better meet his gaze, “After what he did to everyone!?”

“He was being coerced!” Simon spit, his words so full of venom Klavier half expected Apollo to collapse, foaming at the mouth, “If you were a true fan and had even a sliver of rationality, you would understand that the B-Crew’s deaths aren’t his fault! Honestly, it’s a wonder how you’re able to even lift a weapon in the courtroom—”

“Don’t you bring my work into this!” Apollo snarled, teeth bared and eyes flashing like a tiger about to pounce, “and saying that Minoto was coerced is like saying that Luna didn’t mean to betray the Moon Jumpers!”

“That is totally different—”

“OH MY GOD WILL YOU TWO SHUT UP!?”

The two recoiled once again, suddenly sheepish under Athena’s paralyzing scowl.

“You have both been at each other’s throats since we met up!” Athena said, arms crossed, “I don’t know what you two are arguing about, but I invited you to go jogging with me. You are free to stay in this park, screaming at each other until the sun sets and you both pass out from exhaustion, but I’m going to keep going.”

With a huff, Athena turned on her heels and sprinted in the opposite direction.

“Nerds!” Widget taunted.

Simon seemed caught off guard, like a swordsman suddenly disarmed.

“We… We’ll continue this another time, Justice-dono,” he said, turning to Apollo, “This is not your victory. This is a temporary ceasefire. Rest assured, next time I will defeat you.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Apollo smirked, “C’mon, we both know that I’m right.”

“Tsh. We’ll see.”

And with that, Simon took off after Athena, ponytail flying in the wind.

“You’re not going to join them?” Klavier asked, releasing the leash to allow Vongole to run up to Apollo for pets and kisses.

“Nah,” Apollo said, kneeling to scratch Vongole behind the ears, “We’ve already been running for half an hour. Any longer and I might have passed out.”

“Well, aren’t you quite the athlete,” Klavier smirked, bending at the hips to better meet Apollo’s eye, “Running for a full thirty minutes! Ach, what a feat!”

Apollo glared, though it seemed less heated than the glares he would shoot whenever Klavier disassembled an otherwise well-constructed argument. Klavier took that as a sign that the conversation could continue.

“So, what was that about, anyway?” Klavier asked, offering Apollo a hand as he rose to his feet.

“Ah… Sorry you had to see that,” Apollo said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, “It was just a stupid argument. Nothing serious, I promise.”

“It didn’t seem stupid to the two of you,” Klavier remarked, “You are a fiery presence in court, Herr Forehead, but you are also sensible… for the most part.”

Apollo glared at the last addition, but nonetheless remained silent.

“For something to rile you up that much, it must have been important.”

Apollo’s gaze turned towards his feet, a soft flush coloring his cheeks.

“…It’s just some show that Prosecutor Blackquill and I both watch,” Apollo admitted, “I got really excited when I found out that he watched it, too, so like an idiot I started rambling about my favorite characters and story arcs and… well, nobody likes hearing that, right?”

Klavier had to physically stop himself from vehemently protesting. Hearing Apollo talk about his interests with the same passion he used to defend the innocent sounded… incredible. Klavier already couldn’t get enough of Apollo’s voice in court, resonating throughout the courtroom like a chord strum from a guitar. To think that anyone would tell Apollo to stop talking for any reason… Klavier was surprised by the sudden rush of anger he felt at the thought.

“I wouldn’t mind hearing about it,” Klavier said, praying he sounded nonchalant rather than hopeful, “This show you mentioned… What’s it about?”

Ah, there it was. Klavier’s favorite Apollo expression: brown eyes impossibly wide, as if trying to take in the entire universe; mouth slightly ajar, as if he had been interrupted mid-argument; his two horns drooping in front of his face, all of their previous gusto lost to Apollo’s shock.

However, Klavier’s amusement was quickly drowned by another crashing wave of anger. The fact that Apollo looked so shocked at Klavier’s interest means that someone showing any interest in Apollo’s hobbies in the first place was a rare occurrence at best. Again, this absolutely floored Klavier. Apollo was, in his opinion, one of the most interesting people on the planet. How could anyone possibly shut down what the red-clad lawyer had to say!?

“You…” Apollo stuttered, frantically trying to smooth his bangs back into place, “You want to know about… the show I’m watching?”

“Of course!” Klavier replied easily, trying to convey enthusiasm and a willingness to listen, “For you to talk about something so passionately, it must be something you really enjoy, ja?”

“Well, yeah… But why would you be interested in something like that?”

Klavier opened his mouth to continue, but paused. The truth was, he had absolutely no idea what Apollo and Simon had been talking about. Whenever he had the time to watch television, he was usually drawn to reality shows with a wide array of quirky contestants and hosts ranging from charming to obnoxious. He had occasionally seen advertisements for the nerdy, eccentric cartoons Apollo seemed to be invested in, stories promising words of magic and not-so-deserted planets and all manner of twisting, overcomplicated plotlines, and had quickly decided that they weren’t for him.

But if Apollo liked them that much…

“Well, if you enjoy them, then they must be good,” Klavier finally said, “Besides, I’ve seen stuff for those types of shows before, and they’ve sparked my curiosity. I truly would like to hear about them from you.”

He hoped that his actual feelings regarding cartoons would somehow evade Apollo’s keen eyes. For a moment, when Apollo’s eyes widened even further at his words, Klavier wondered if he had been caught.

But then… oh. Oh.

Apollo was positively beaming.

“Well, yeah!” Apollo said, fortunately oblivious to how Klavier had suddenly lost all ability to speak, “I mean, some of them are weird, obviously. Well, I guess they’re all kinda weird when you think about it… But a lot of them are really good! Like the one I was talking about with Prosecutor Blackquill! It’s about a space crew whose home planet was destroyed, and now they are desperately trying to find a new place to call home! And they’re competing with these other space crews to find the best planet, and whoever finds it first becomes the leaders of the planet! But on one of the planets they visit, they find a hidden city and—”

If Apollo was the sun in court, a burning present shedding light upon the truth, right now he was a firestorm. Klavier was barely following the intricate story arcs and overarching plotline of the show Apollo was describing, but how could he focus on anything when Apollo’s very presence seemed to drown out everything else, as if he was the only thing that mattered? His hands were flying around wildly, as if trying to grasp invisible images to show Klavier. He was bouncing in place like he was filled with carbonated liquid, his disposition suddenly shockingly similar to a certain young magician. He was smiling wider than Klavier had ever seen him, for once looking like someone in his mid-twenties rather than someone undergoing a midlife crisis. Apollo was smiling, all teeth and dimples and eyes creased, and he was smiling at him.

If Klavier had known that this was all it took to get Apollo to grin at him like that, he would have asked about those nerdy shows years ago.

“Ah!” Apollo suddenly stopped, and Klavier barely stopped the whine from crawling from his throat because no please don’t stop talking! Apollo looked embarrassed, his smile diminished to a sliver of its former self, and it was like comparing the most beautiful of sunny days to cloudy skies with the promise of rain.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to start rambling,” Apollo continued, “I know this is probably all nonsense to you.”

“…I’ll admit that I don’t quite understand everything that you said just now,” Klavier relented, “But that doesn’t mean that I’m not interested! Please, tell me more!”

Apollo hesitated, and Klavier was mentally beating himself black and blue. Why hadn’t he been more encouraging!? Now Apollo may never open up to him again! This was such a rare opportunity and he squandered it—

“…Well, instead of me just ranting to you about it, why don’t… I mean, only if you want to…”

Apollo smiled again, something small, shy, and hopeful. Klavier couldn’t breathe in the best way possible.

“Would you like to come over and watch it sometime?”

And seriously, in what universe would Klavier ever say no to that?

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Klavier hadn’t felt this nervous since high school.

It was stupid. He knew it was stupid. Apollo had invited him over, after all. It was a casual event, something Apollo insisted on preparing by himself. Klavier wasn’t even instructed to bring anything over, instead to simply show up at the allotted time.

So why was it so difficult to knock?

Klavier must have been standing outside Apollo’s apartment door for at least five minutes now, an amusing sight for the neighbors, most likely. Gott, he never felt this nervous before court, even when Apollo stood opposite him in the courtroom. Those moments were exhilarating, like a rollercoaster ride that would even out just when the rush of falling began to feel like too much.

This was intimate, an environment where Klavier was vulnerable. There were no scripts, no pieces of evidence to arrange, and no witnesses to prepare. It would only be him and Apollo with no benches to separate them. Klavier didn’t rate his chances of survival very high.

But he had come this far…

Fuck it.

With a final burst of courage, Klavier rapped his knuckles on the apartment door. He had barely started knocking when the door swung open, revealing Apollo grinning ear to ear. Klavier found himself suddenly feeling faint and breathless, like he was a passenger in a crashing plane, helplessly falling.

“You’re here!” Apollo grinned, stepping back so Klavier could enter the apartment. In all of his years of knowing Apollo, he couldn’t remember a time when Apollo looked so happy to see him—

He’s not happy to see you, Klavier firmly reminded himself, He’s just excited to watch the show with someone. You have nothing to do with it.

Nevertheless, Klavier was dumbstruck as he watched Apollo lead him into the apartment, every step light like the defense attorney’s feet were made of helium. It wasn’t like Klavier had never seen Apollo happy. He had been on the receiving end of Apollo’s triumphant grin numerous times, a hysterical witness dragged off to jail and confetti raining from above like the most colorful snowfall. He’s seen that late-night spark in his eye when he finally found a contradiction, his eyes almost glowing under lamplight as the two of them poured over papers into the earliest hours of morning. He’s even seen pride, a smile reserved for Trucy when she dazzled an audience or Athena as she placed a murderer behind bars.

This, however, was different. Apollo, despite his below-average height, always exuded an aura of heaviness. His back slouched and his limbs drooped as if he carried a heavy burden. It pulled at his lips, staying them into a constant frown that was rarely breached.

Now? Apollo looked like he could simply leap into the air and soar.

“Sorry it’s not much,” Apollo said, pulling Klavier from his thoughts, “I know you’re used to big, fancy condos with, like, seven TVs and a minibar—”

“You make me sound so pretentious!” Klavier cried, biting his lip to keep from laughing, “I don’t have seven TVs!”

“Right, right. You only have three. My bad. I deeply apologize for my attack on your flawless character,” Apollo grinned, shoulders shaking from restrained laughter.

Klavier pouted, turning away somewhat guiltily, because he did indeed own three TVs. It did little to fill the space his expensive penthouse offered, an abode he chose when he was young and high on his newfound fame. If he was faced with the same choice now, he may have chosen a smaller condo, where his steps didn’t echo so loudly and the city didn’t seem so distant below.

Apollo’s small apartment was Klavier’s opposite in every sense of the word. It comprised of four rooms total, nestled together like sardines in a tin. The living room, which Klavier gingerly stepped into as the door closed behind him, was smaller than Klavier’s bedroom, a couch, coffee table, and television allowing little legroom. Klavier could see a doorway leading to the kitchen, the space barely containing a counter and oven within its boundaries. He noted that the appliances looked old and somewhat banged-up, yet the surfaces were spotless. The other two rooms were hidden behind closed doors, though Klavier deduced that they likely led to a bathroom and Apollo’s bedroom.

Despite the sparsity of the space, everything was clean and neat. Klavier would often find himself tripping over various documents and other knickknacks in his own penthouse, for while he was generally organized, he was far from the neatest person he knew. Apollo’s apartment, however, was devoid of dust and clutter, giving the otherwise cramped space a feeling of openness. Even the walls, its off-white paint peeling and stains coating its surface, were almost completely barren, yet another deviation from Klavier’s place. From display cases protecting his precious guitars, to picture frames enclosing photos from his travels or various modeling gigs he’s proud of, one could barely see the soft, lavender tones that painted the walls of his penthouse. Klavier wondered if Apollo was simply not the type to reminisce, or if he lacked the experiences to depict upon his walls.

The idea of either was… rather sad.

Klavier was startled out of his thoughts when he heard a noise from one of the closed doors, a rustling that he likely wouldn’t have heard if the apartment wasn’t so quiet.

“Oh, ignore him,” Apollo tutted, eyeing the door with a disgruntled fondness, “That’s just my girlfriend. He’s being a drama queen because he thinks I’m going to lock him in there forever and starve him, even though I left him plenty of food and water.”

Klavier blinked, struggling to process that one sentence that contained more contradictions than his typical case.

“I… have several questions.”

Apollo glanced over his shoulder towards Klavier, and seeing the genuine confusion on his face, Apollo’s eyes suddenly widened.

“Oh right, you haven’t met Mikeko yet!” he said, slapping his hand to his forehead, “Oh my god, you must be so confused—Look, I promise I’m not a kidnapper. That’s just my cat. I shut him in my room so that he wouldn’t get into the snacks. He’s a little shit like that.”

Klavier’s eyes widened again, this time in delight.

“You have a cat!?” Klavier exclaimed, eyeing the door with renewed interest as the rustling – no, the scratching—grew louder, accompanied by quiet, insistent meows, “His name is Mikeko!? That’s too adorable, oh mein gott!”

“Yeah, I found him outside my apartment and took him in. I thought he was a girl at first, and Cla- ah, one of my friends would joke that the reason I didn’t have a partner was because I loved Mikeko so much, so we started calling Mikeko my “girlfriend”. By the time we learned that Mikeko was actually a boy, the name had already stuck.”

“Can I meet him?” Klavier asked, his grin widening as the meows grew louder from behind the door.

“Well… I guess a few minutes wouldn’t hurt. He’ll have to go back in when we start watching, though. Got it?”

“Got it!” Klavier affirmed, opening the door and releasing its captive.

“Mrow!”

Klavier cooed as a chubby, calico cat slithered from the crack in the opening door, looking up at Klavier with curious eyes. Klavier crouched to the cat’s level, his cheeks hurting from smiling as the cat nuzzled into his open palm and started to purr.

“Hello there, little one!” Klavier beamed, “It’s nice to meet you! I’m Klavier, a friend of your boyfriend. Hope you’re willing to share him for a bit?”

The calico meowed again, and Klavier hoped that it was a positive answer.

“Okay, okay, time to stop being a player,” Apollo tutted and scooped Mikeko into his arms, whose purrs quickly shifted to protesting meows, “I get it, you’re a real charmer. But you’re also a ho who demands compensation for his services. I’m sorry, but you’re not getting any junk food today.”

Klavier wheezed at both the seriousness in Apollo’s eyes and the look of outright betrayal from Mikeko.

“I’ll let you out in a few hours!” Apollo scolded as the cat’s cries increased in volume, “You’ll be fine! Stop giving me that look!”

With a final huff and a yowl that promised painful retribution, Apollo tossed Mikeko back into his room and closed the door.

“What a beautiful relationship,” Klavier laughed.

“Don’t get too jealous,” Apollo said, rolling his eyes as the scratching resumed, “Okay, I’m going to get the snacks. Make yourself comfortable. Again, I know it isn’t cushions filled with duck feathers or lamps imported from Guatemala, but it’s home. I kinda prefer the smaller apartment anyway, you know? It’s easier to clean, and harder to lose things. And I think smaller spaces are cozier, anyway. Less lonely—”

Apollo suddenly stops, his face burning, before turning away.

“I-I mean, uh… Y-y’know… Ugh, just forget it!”

Apollo bolted to the kitchen before Klavier could say anything. For a second, Klavier was tempted to follow, but decided to give Apollo some space to recover. He sighed as he settled on the couch, shivering despite the otherwise warm interior. All of his giddiness from his brief meeting with Mikeko was gone.

Apollo was lonely. Really, Klavier should have realized sooner. After all, the man was practically one with his job, eagerly accepting more hours with only the truth as his compensation. From conversations Klavier’s had with Trucy and Athena, Apollo almost never took days off aside from when he was sick, and most days would simply return home after work. The few occasions he mentioned doing things for fun or to relax, he was usually accompanied by his best friend, Clay Terrain.

His best friend, who Klavier had been looking forward to meeting, for one who could become so close to one so aloof was bound to be someone interesting. His best friend, who Klavier could only know from the noble actions that cost him his life.

Klavier wanted to hit himself. Of course Apollo would be lonely. He just lost his best friend, someone who Klavier heard had been with Apollo since they were children. Suddenly, Klavier’s attempts at consolation and his efforts to reach out seemed imprudent. He knew he could never fill the void Clay left behind. He had simply wished to have even a sliver of Apollo’s trust, to help replace Apollo’s hesitance and frowns with easy laughter.

He was callous, and Klavier felt like an intruder in Apollo’s space.

“Okay, so I wasn’t sure what you would like, or if you’re on some kind of special diet for rockstars, or whatever, so I got a few things.”

Klavier was startled out of his thoughts when Apollo reemerged from the kitchen carrying several bowls full of snacks. Without thinking, he quickly rose to his feet and took some of the bowls from Apollo’s hands.

“Wha—Oh, you don’t have to do that, Klavier!” Apollo protested, trying to simultaneously balance the remaining bowls and reclaim the ones in Klavier’s arms, “I can handle them! You just sit and relax, okay?”

“What kind of gentleman would I be if I allowed you to do all the hard work yourself?” Klavier countered, gently settling the snacks onto the coffee table. He may not be nearly as dear to Apollo as Clay was, and he likely never will, but he would at least be a courteous guest in Apollo’s home.

“But you’re the guest!” Apollo said sternly, placing his own bowls beside Klavier’s and pivoting back towards the kitchen, “It won’t take long, I promise.”

“By that logic, it will take even less time if we work together, ja?” Klavier said, hesitantly following Apollo to the kitchen, “Past events seem to support my claim that we make a good team.”

“…I guess,” Apollo conceded, reluctantly passing a few more bowls to Klavier before taking the rest into his arms, “The defense knows when they must rest.”

“A wise decision,” Klavier grinned, “If only you were so sensible when cornered in court.”

Apollo squawked, hip-checking Klavier as they moved to the living room with an indignant “Rude!” However, Klavier caught him grinning, so he knew it was only in jest. Klavier gently bumped him back with his arm as he placed the remaining snacks on the table.

“We’ve got chips, pretzels, M&Ms, watermelon…” Apollo listed off, shuffling the bowls around slightly for better access, “Again, I wasn’t sure what you would like. I know you probably have all sorts of fancy snacks at your place, all gilded in gold and sequins or whatever.”

“But of course,” Klavier chuckled, plucking a pretzel from its bowl and settling back on the couch, “Every celebrity, along with housekeepers and personal chefs, much have a designated food bedazzler. It is a matter of great shame and embarrassment if one does not have one. A rockstar’s food must be sparkly enough to blind, otherwise it’s practically inedible.”

“Ah, that explains the glasses, then,” Apollo nodded.

“You catch on quick. Perhaps you would make a great rockstar.”

Apollo snorted, shaking his head slightly as he popped a piece of chocolate into his mouth.

“Won’t that be the day,” he mused, shuttering slightly, “Me on stage, playing an electric guitar and singing about the law.”

“It is a day I eagerly await!” Klavier grinned, “I don’t know about others, but I personally would pay good money to hear your voice.”

“In your dreams,” Apollo said, rolling his eyes.

Klavier was quick to hog the popcorn as Apollo switched on the TV, a title screen featuring flashy, animated characters shown on screen.

“Ready?” Apollo asked, his previous excitement returning full force as he smiled widely at Klavier.

I am going to die, Klavier thought helplessly, I won’t even last one episode.

“When am I not?” Klavier smirked, “Let’s get this party started!”

Apollo laughed, light and euphoric, and Klavier didn’t think he would ever be able to appreciate music the same way again with how it compared.

“Alright!” Apollo cheered, pressing play and snatching the bowl of chocolates, “Let me know if you need me to explain anything. The first few episodes are a bit slow, but it picks up a lot by episode seven when—well, you’ll see!”

As the show began, Klavier immediately understood why Apollo described the first few episodes as “slow”. A somewhat exciting opening sequence involving planets exploding and lots of flashy combat were followed by monotonous interactions that seemed intended to flesh out the characters. Out of all of the main cast, Klavier could only remember a few of their names, including the two characters he remembered Apollo and Simon arguing about. He knew, logically, that once the first few episodes established enough of the world and the personalities of the main cast, things would likely start to become more interesting, but… Klavier knew he wouldn’t have made it past two episodes of this show without Apollo’s presence.

But boy, did Apollo’s presence make everything worth it. Despite knowing exactly what would occur in the show, Apollo eagerly watched every scene as if it were the first time he saw it. Occasionally, he would turn to Klavier to explain a certain interaction or to add some depth to a character shown on screen, and his analysis was just as impressive as when he deployed it in court. The otherwise tedious scenes seemed so much more interesting when Apollo explained them, his words quiet and rushed as to not ruin the viewing experience, but also enthusiastic and passionate.

But the highlight of the evening was when the opening sequence for the fourth episode started to play.

After the first episode, Apollo had elected to skip the opening sequence for Klavier’s sake, something Klavier appreciated. However, upon returning from the bathroom after the third episode concluded, Klavier heard the intro playing once more, a soft voice accompanying the opening number.

Klavier watched, mouth agape, as Apollo quietly sang. The spiked-attorney’s voice was low and rough, clearly untrained, but he hit every note perfectly. Indeed, despite lacking the practice Klavier’s gained through his music career, Apollo had a beautiful voice. That, combined with the small smile playing on his lips as he sang, was enough to make Klavier fall in love all over again.

Screw the myths of mermaids and sirens. This was a voice Klavier would jump overboard to pursue.

Despite the sudden weakness he felt in his legs, Klavier donned his confident persona and smirked.

“It seems I got to see you perform after all.”

In hindsight, maybe calling out to Apollo when he was distracted and located right next to a table loaded with bowls of food wasn’t the smartest idea. As if Klavier was watching the scene unravel in slow motion, he saw Apollo recoil as if punched and whip in his direction. One of his legs caught the underside of the table, and with a bang! and a hiss of pain, the table and its contents were overturned.

“Shit!” Apollo cursed, diving for the fallen food. Klavier, stunned momentarily by the disaster that unfolded before him, snapped out of his stupor and ran to help.

“S-sorry!” Klavier said, scooping chips into its overturned container, “I didn’t mean to startle you!”

“Dammit, Klav, what kind of reaction did you expect!?” Apollo hissed, placing a few bowls of recovered food to the side, “You can’t just call out to someone who is unaware of you in the dark!”

Klavier’s mind was reeling, a litany of soft-sung lyrics and that fiery temper he adored and Klav Klav Klav.

“You’re right, Apollo,” he said sheepishly, holding out another filled bowl for Apollo to take as if it were a peace offering, “In my defense, you caught me quite a bit off guard as well. But I won’t do that again, I promise.”

Apollo suddenly stopped scooping food into the bowls, turning towards Klavier with a wide-eyed expression.

“You used my name,” he whispered, his brown eyes glowing in the reflective light of the television, “My real name.”

“You make it sound like I never say your name.”

“Rarely,” Apollo corrected.

“Fair enough,” Klavier smiled, “But I felt like you deserved the tables to be turned on yourself as well. After all, usually I’m the one who dishes out the nicknames.”

Apollo’s brow furrowed in confusion, trying to decipher what Klavier was referring to, before his eyes widened impossibly further.

“I-I didn’t mean to—It just came out that way—I’m sorry—”

“Don’t be,” Klavier reassured, taking several bowls and rising to his feet. He doubted the contents were edible anymore. “I rather like it, actually.”

Accentuating his point with a wink, Klavier headed to the kitchen, a sputtering defense attorney right at his heels.

<*><*><*><*><*><*><*><*><*><*><*><*><*><*><*>

The two had made it through eight episodes by the time they called it a night. True to Apollo’s word, the show began to pick up the pace by episode seven, a semblance of a plot calling the heroes to action. Klavier was still not nearly as invested as Apollo, but between hearing Apollo’s commentary and chatting during slower scenes, Klavier could easily say that he had a wonderful time.

“Same time next week?” Apollo asked as he walked Klavier to the door.

“Definitely,” Klavier grinned, “I’m curious to see what dangers await the B Crew on this mysterious planet.”

“Well, you’ll just have to wait to find out!” Apollo beamed.

As Klavier stepped outside, he immediately felt a sudden chill, despite the temperature likely sitting in the high sixties. He doubted that even the hottest summer’s day could compare to the warmth he soaked in while sitting next to Apollo on that old couch with the cushions that sunk in a bit too much.

He missed Apollo already.

“Thanks again for having me,” Klavier said, “I had a wonderful time.”

“Me too,” Apollo replied, his smile softening to something that turned Klavier’s insides to mush.

The two stood silent for a moment, and Klavier wondered if he should say anything else, or perhaps shake Apollo’s hand in farewell. Both seemed strangely inappropriate, like if he were to arrive to a beach party in a suit. So instead, he slowly turned away and waved over his shoulder.

“Gute Nacht, Apollo,” he said softly, his heart throbbing with longing that he hoped didn’t show in his expression.

Apollo didn’t reply, which caused Klavier to falter. He was suddenly second guessing himself, wondering if he should have said something else after all. Verdamte, where was his charm and confidence when he needed it?

He opened his mouth to speak, unsure of exactly what he was going to say, when he felt something rush into him fast enough to knock the wind out of him. He barely had time to process two strong arms wrapped around his waist (much stronger than he thought, and wasn’t that something that would haunt his dreams in the coming month) and tufts of brunette hair ticking his chin before Apollo backed away again, blushing madly.

“G-good night… Klav.”

And with a slightly too-loud slam of his door, Apollo had retreated into his apartment, leaving Klavier dumbfounded and unraveled.

It took every ounce of willpower Klavier possessed to stop himself from squealing and doing a little dance on Apollo’s doorstep.

<*><*><*><*><*><*><*><*><*><*><*><*><*><*><*>

The next two months were a whirlwind of cases that made Klavier want to tear his hair out, and considering the amount of money and time he spent on his golden curls, that was definitely saying something.

If he didn’t know any better, Klavier would have feared that he had done something to wrong the Chief Prosecutor, given the vast amount of back-to-back downright horrendous trials he prosecuted during those months. However, Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth only winced in pity as he handed over case after case containing uncooperative defendants, nasty witnesses, and crimes that ranged from dreadfully boring, to twisted to the point of nonsense. Untangling the mysteries behind these crimes wasn’t even fun. The witnesses made sure of that.

Worst of all, Apollo wasn’t assigned to any of his cases. Even the other members of the Wright Anything Agency seemed busy with other matters, Athena facing off against him twice in this two-month period and Mr. Wright opposing him only once. While Mr. Wright’s agency usually proved an engaging opponent, the nature of the witnesses soured any debate they managed to ignite, constant interruptions and enough perjury to make even the infamous Wendy Oldbag balk sending them tumbling in circles until they ended up somewhere around where they began. It was as if the entire state of Japanifornia had schemed to waste as much of Klavier’s time as possible.

Naturally, the oasis in the scorching desert of miserable cases was his cartoon marathons with Apollo.

Every week, Klavier would knock on Apollo’s door to be greeted with that same wide, enchanting smile. Instantly, all of the stress and pent-up anger remaining from that week’s cases would drip away, like Apollo’s presence was therapeutic all on its own. Klavier would follow the brunette into the living room, the previous arrangement of snacks narrowed down to some of Klavier’s and Apollo’s favorites. Klavier had even taken to bringing a bowl himself despite Apollo’s protests.

The memory of Apollo bursting into laughter at the sight of gilded M&Ms was something Klavier wished he could have photographed. It was more than enough to make the gold-embroidered candy a tradition between the two of them.

If Klavier could name one gripe he had about their hang-outs (and he thinks he would rather die than voice this to Apollo), it was the show itself. While the race between the characters was in full swing, Klavier wasn’t feeling any more invested than he was when he started watching them. Apollo’s commentary was enough to make the overall experience enjoyable, but that didn’t detract from the fact that Klavier simply didn’t like the show. Most of the characters felt shallow, their actions either frustrating or completely irrational. While the plot gradually built in complexity, it did little to increase Klavier’s investment. If anything, it only added to Klavier’s confusion and annoyance. If it weren’t for Apollo’s constant explanations, Klavier doubted that he would have been able to follow it.

It was worth it, of course. It was more than worth it. Apollo had finally opened up to him, allowing Klavier to witness small moments of vulnerability from him. He was allowed to listen to Apollo sing again, shy and awkward and so beautifully Apollo. He was allowed to watch Apollo play with Mikeko, the cat purring happily as Apollo spoiled him with nicknames cooed between kisses and chin-scratches. He was allowed to listen to Apollo talk for hours, with Klavier only half-watching the show because it was much more entertaining to listen to the story from Apollo and maybe, just maybe, Apollo would be so invested in the narrative he’s weaving that he wouldn’t notice how close he was pressed up against Klavier.

Or maybe he did notice, and it was intentional. It was these guilty hopes that Klavier clung onto in the even rarer moments when Apollo would smile at him fondly, or when he would tell him that Mikeko liked him more than other people, or when he would slowly ease his head into the crook of Klavier’s shoulder and send Klavier spiraling into whatever galaxy the characters in the show were exploring.

It was more than Klavier had ever hoped he could receive, and he felt the happiest he had in years.

Which is why, when Apollo opened the door with more subdued smile, the first thing Klavier felt was overwhelming fear.

“Hey Klav,” Apollo said, waving Klavier in. Klavier hesitated, unsure if he wanted to know what awaited him once he stepped inside. He had a good idea, though.

This is it, Klavier lamented, his heart sinking like the heaviest rock in the deepest, murkiest water, He’s tired of your company. He’s going to call the entire thing off.

Part of Klavier, a distant but more logical part of his mind, whispered that he was jumping to conclusions. However, like every week for the past two months, this week had been absolute shit. Just that day, Klavier had barely managed to close the case he had been working on since three days ago, a monster of a murder involving screaming from the witness stand, an incompetent defense attorney, and lie after lie after lie. Klavier was tired and angry, but he pushed through the trial because he knew that in a few hours he would be here, in Apollo’s apartment, watching horrible cartoons with his favorite person in the world.

But what if he wouldn’t? The idea of just leaving, of seeing Apollo for only a few minutes before having to drive back to his lonely, hollow penthouse, felt like a capital sentence. Klavier didn’t want to be alone. He wanted Apollo.

And that desperate, lonely part of him was overwhelming all reason. Klavier hoped he wasn’t shaking with nervous dread.

“You look like I’m about to present an updated autopsy report,” Apollo quipped, glancing over his shoulder with a quipped eyebrow, “Rough day?”

“Ach, understatement of the century,” Klavier sighed, settling carefully into the sofa in the living room and hoping that he wouldn’t need to get up again, “Forget math and science. We need to start teaching a class in school about the existence of perjury, because I don’t think a single person in the entire state knows what it is.”

“Damn, that bad, huh?” Apollo grimaced, patting Klavier on the shoulder as he headed towards the kitchen.

“Y-Yeah,” Klavier replied, both his voice and his heart stuttering at the slight contact, “At least it’s over now. And I can finally learn what happens to the B-Crew on the Raptured Planet, ja?”

“Right… Actually, about that,” Apollo said, sitting on the couch next to Klavier and giving him a serious look that seemed so out of place in this room that had hosted so much laughter.

“I think we should stop watching this show.”

Oh… I was right after all, Klavier realized, unable to stop himself from clenching his eyes shut to prevent his anguish from manifesting in his expression, He’s going to put an end to this.

“I… I see,” Klavier said, unable to meet Apollo’s eyes.

“I mean, it’s obvious that you hate it.”

Klavier recoiled. That was not how he expected Apollo to follow up.

“W-Was!? What are you talking about!?” Klavier stammered, “I don’t hate the show!”

“Yes, you do,” Apollo retorted easily, and Klavier was confused to see that he was amused rather than upset, “You hate the characters, the plot confuses you, and you find the overall concept silly.”

“I-I…”

Klavier was stunned. Apollo had perfectly vocalized his feelings regarding the show, despite him having never said a single negative thing about it.

“B-but… that doesn’t mean we have to stop watching it!” Klavier protested weakly, “I really do enjoy watching with you.”

Apollo’s brow furrowed, his hand reaching towards his bangle.

“Huh… you are telling the truth,” Apollo said, “But it’s also true that you don’t like the show. I’m right, aren’t I?”

Klavier opened his mouth to counter, his words failing him at the worst time, before slumping defeatedly. He knew lying would be pointless, given how accurately Apollo had managed to read him.

“Ja… I wouldn’t say that I like the show very much,” Klavier admitted, wondering if this is what guilty parties felt like when they confessed on the stand.

“That’s alright,” Apollo said, rising to his feet, “I just wish you would have told me sooner.”

I wish you would have never found out, Klavier didn’t say, For once, I wish you weren’t so observant and intelligent, so that I could have been immersed in this illusion for a little while longer.

“By now, we might have even found something we both enjoyed.”

Klavier’s thoughts skid to a halt, flailing and crashing like an amateur ice skater on a rink.

“Something… we…”

“You didn’t really think that Star Chasers was the only show I like, did you?” Apollo smirked, and only now did Klavier realized that he was heading to the kitchen and not towards the front door to escort Klavier outside like he initially thought, “There are tons of other anime in all sorts of genres. I thought we could try one with a more realistic setting. There are still a few supernatural elements to it, but there are fewer key characters and the concept is a lot more grounded.”

Klavier remained speechless as Apollo retrieved the snacks.

He… He got to stay. He wouldn’t be kicked out.

“—and I know the mystery aspect might seem a bit silly, especially given how solving mysteries is kinda our job, but there are still a lot of cool twists and… Hey, are you alright?”

Klavier glanced up at Apollo, carrying bowls of candy and fruit and looking at him with unfiltered concern, and he realized that he was crying.

“Ja, Herr Forehead. I’m fine,” Klavier grinned, placing slight emphasis on Apollo’s familiar catchphrase. Apollo rolled his eyes, but that concern didn’t leave, something that filled his heart with a feeling like warm honey. After wiping away his tears, Klavier stood up to help with the remaining bowls, and within a few minutes Apollo was queuing up the new show.

“Alright, take two,” Apollo said.

“Woo!” Klavier cheered, reveling in the laughter it drew from Apollo.

“Again, let me know if you need me to explain anything.”

“I will, don’t worry Herr Forehead.”

“And this time, if you aren’t into it, just tell me. We’ll find something you like, or my name isn’t Apollo Justice!”

Klavier laughed breathlessly, giddy on relief and the overwhelming love he felt for the shorter man.

“I will. Promise.”

<*><*><*><*><*><*><*><*><*><*><*><*><*><*><*>

Given his experience with the previous show, Klavier could safely say that his expectations were fairly low. He couldn’t have been more delighted to be proven wrong.

Immediately, Klavier felt a greater connection with the characters, their struggles cemented in familiar, real-life situations that he could easily sympathize with. Additionally, unlike the previous show, the plot picked up right away, introducing a mystery for the main characters to solve in the first episode. Klavier’s mind was already whirling with possible answers to the riddles plaguing the protagonists, a delightful puzzle without any of the pressures court introduced into the furl. Suddenly, Apollo’s rambles were no longer so one-sided. Klavier would often voice his suspicions and theories, to which Apollo would always answer vaguely with bright smile and eyes that knew everything Klavier didn’t. Before he knew it, the two of them had plowed through five episodes without a single break.

“I told you these shows were good!” Apollo grinned, returning to the couch after moving several empty plates to the kitchen.

“Hey, I never said they weren’t!” Klavier protested, slouching on Apollo dramatically and causing the other to giggle.

“But you thought it.”

“Ja, but I didn’t say it! It’s not my fault that you’re an unused protagonist from the hit TV show That’s So Raven.”

“I can’t see the future, Klav,” Apollo chuckled, rolling his eyes and sending Klavier’s heart soaring with the nickname, “I can only see people’s nervous tics.”

“I’ll admit, that theme song wouldn’t be nearly as catchy,” Klavier relented, “And I’m a musician. I know these things.”

“So you’re saying that you wouldn’t even consider watching That’s So Apollo? I’m hurt!”

“Again, I never said that!”

“But I can see it. With my magic eyes.” Apollo squinted his eyes to accentuate his point.

“Oh, shut up,” Klavier laughed.

The two’s laughter slowly subsided into a comfortable silence, Klavier resting his head on Apollo’s upper arm. He was musing the possibility of getting away with placing his head on the brunette’s lap when Apollo spoke, his voice holding a serious tone that wasn’t there before.

“Y’know, Clay liked these kinds of shows better, too,” Apollo said, causing Klavier to freeze, “Ironic, given our respective career paths, but it’s true. He would tease me endlessly for getting so invested in the fantasy worlds in the shows, even though he could go on and on about the motives one character could have for betraying another in a mystery genre anime.”

Apollo smiled sadly, and Klavier wished he could simply take an eraser and wipe away all of the pain drawn across Apollo’s features.

“I wish I could have met him,” Klavier said softly, unsure how to comfort his friend in such a vulnerable moment.

“Oh, you would have loved him. He always had such a presence to him, kinda like you do. He was so energetic and loud and charismatic. We would walk into a bar and ten minutes later, he would have half the patrons engaged in some wild story. Honestly, I don’t know why he hung out with me. He was like a star with how much he glowed.”

Apollo sighed, something fragile and tragic.

“No wonder he wanted to go to space so badly.”

Klavier, unsure of what to say, hesitantly placed a hand on Apollo’s shoulder. Apollo reached up and gently squeezed it, smiling gratefully.

“He wouldn’t shut up about you, you know,” Apollo continued, his hand never moving from its position over Klavier’s, “When I told him about my first case against you, he was inconsolable. “How could you not know he was the Klavier Gavin!?” and “You didn’t even get his autograph!? Some friend you are!” and stuff like that. I remember promising him that I’d introduce you two one day, but then…”

Klavier swallowed, his throat suddenly way too dry. Memories of antroquinine and suspicious murmurs from the gallery and that horrible laughter echoed throughout his skull.

“It felt… wrong, I guess, to bother you after everything you went through. And you were putting so much effort into distancing yourself from the Gavineers. I wasn’t even sure if you wanted to see me. I was probably just another reminder of everything you lost.”

You have no idea how desperately I wanted to see you, Klavier didn’t say. I missed you more than I could ever say. I wanted to see you more than anyone else because you were the only one who could possibly understand. I would have given anything for even a minute of your time.

Instead, Klavier said, “I wouldn’t have minded.”

Apollo’s eyes went wide, and suddenly Klavier felt incredibly vulnerable. He felt like Apollo could see right through him, drawing out the thoughts Klavier wished to keep hidden through that powerful gaze.

And then, likely against his will, Apollo began to shake with sobs.

“Oh no, oh Apollo,” Klavier shushed, eyes wide with emotion as he scooped the smaller man into his arms before he could think twice, “Leibling, please don’t cry. It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

Apollo froze at the contact, almost as if unsure how to react, before positively melting into the embrace. The chill in his blood and the warmth of Apollo raged war in Klavier, feelings of gratitude for even the chance to hug Apollo squandered under raw, unfiltered heartache for his situation. He wondered when the last time Apollo, his strong, stubborn Leibling, had allowed himself a moment to cry. He remembers the eyepatch, the memory of Apollo’s recently deceased friend draped over his shoulders as he embraced the pain investigating Clay’s murder would surely entail. He remembers dead eyes, his face hidden behind a metal mask forged in the flames of justice. Gott, the image of his lively, beautiful Apollo diminished to a few flickering embers was enough to summon tears of his own.

“N-now don’t you cry,” Apollo chided, shifting slightly out of Klavier’s grasp to swipe at the tears running down the prosecutor’s face, “If you start crying, then I’m never going to stop crying, and it’ll be a huge mess.”

“It’s too late, Schatzi,” Klavier sniffed, squeezing Apollo gently as he smiled through his tears, “We’re already huge messes.”

“Dammit,” Apollo chuckled, nuzzling his head underneath Klavier’s chin. Klavier found himself so overwhelmed with affection and love that a new wave of tears started to fall.

“Well… at least we can be huge messes together, ja?”

Apollo laughed, his voice heavy with emotion but his eyes full of light reflecting from the drops accumulated in his lashes.

“Y’know… That doesn’t sound too bad.”

<*><*><*><*><*><*><*><*><*><*><*><*><*><*><*>

“Hey, Klav.”

Klavier nearly spit out his drink. He looked up from his meal and saw Apollo hovering hesitantly next to his table, a drink and case file in hand. Klavier quickly swallowed the sip of his own hot beverage and tried not to choke, clearing his throat and adopting a pose that hopefully looked suave and composed. Going by Apollo’s strained expression, lips pursed as he tried to hold back laughter, Klavier had a feeling that he was failing miserably.

“Herr Forehead!” Klavier coughed, still managing a grin as he recovered from the minor scare, “You startled me!”

“I noticed,” Apollo quipped, a teasing smile emerging despite himself.

“Oh shush, you,” Klavier sighed, turning his chair to face the attorney, “Anyways, what brings you to my little corner of this café? If you were so eager to have lunch with me, you should have asked!”

Apollo scoffed, rolling his eyes even as his cheeks flushed pink.

“Funny. Actually, I wanted to talk to you about tonight.”

“Ach, of course. We will finally learn who committed the murder! I’ve been looking forward to this all week,” Klavier smiled. His smile dimmed when Apollo frowned at his words, looking even more uncertain.

“Unless something came up?” Klavier guessed. His heart sank at having to postpone his weekly hang-out with Apollo, but he was determined to not show it and cause the defense attorney to feel guilty. “We can reschedule if you need.”

“No, it’s not that,” Apollo said, and Klavier barely caught himself from sighing in relief, “It’s just… Well, every time we’ve met up, it’s been to watch a show that I like. It’s been really fun, but… well, it just occurred to me that it wasn’t exactly fair to you.”

“What do you mean?” Klavier asked, rising from his chair, “You know that I love coming over and watching with you, right? And we found a show that I like! So what’s the problem?”

“It’s just…” Apollo bit his lip, as if trying to physically stop himself from speaking before he could carefully think over his words, “Well, I feel like most of the time it’s just me rambling on and on about the things that I like.”

I know, Klavier thought, That’s literally my favorite part.

“And it didn’t seem fair, y’know? So I was wondering, when we meet up tonight, if you wanted to pick what we did instead?”

“M…Me?” Klavier was all at once stunned and impossibly endeared, because that little bit of consideration was one of the sweetest things anyone had ever done for him.

“Yeah! You’ve been really cool about indulging in my weird interests, so I figured I could return the favor. We can watch a show you like this time, or we can do something else entirely. Whatever you want.”

Apollo smiled so warmly that Klavier thought he might melt.

“Is… Is that okay?”

Klavier realized with a start that he had not said anything.

“Ja, perfekt!” Klavier replied, “I’ve got some shows in mind that I think you might like.”

“Alright, don’t make me regret this,” Apollo smirked, turning away from the table, “See you tonight!”

“Verabschieden!”

Klavier unlocked his phone as he watched Apollo leave, his smile turning giddy as he watched the attorney meet up with Trucy, who Klavier realized must have been waiting outside. His smile widened as he saw Apollo balk at something the magician said, blushing madly as Trucy laughed at his reaction. Klavier spent the remainder of his lunch break searching for shows to watch with Apollo, his good mood remaining for the rest of the day.

And maybe Apollo wasn’t as invested in the cooking show Klavier chose for that night, but he was making fun of the contestants and laughing at Klavier’s jokes and he was as radiant as always. After all, Klavier had never cared about the shows in the first place.

<*><*><*><*><*><*><*><*><*><*><*><*><*><*><*>

Klavier may not have had Apollo’s keen eyes, or Athena’s sensitive hearing, or even the Chief Prosecutor’s uncanny knack for piecing facts together. However, he was still a renown prosecutor for a reason. He was good at charming information out of witnesses, his memory rarely failed him, and he noticed things.

So as soon as Apollo opened the door one late Thursday night, almost six months into their weekly cartoon marathons, Klavier knew something was wrong.

“Hey, Klav!” Apollo exclaimed, his voice bordering on squeaky and his eyes wide and frantic. He looked seconds away from panicking.

“Good evening, Herr Forehead,” Klavier said, frowning at the brunette’s skittish behavior. Unsure of how to breach the tense atmosphere, he settled with his usual greeting. “Wonderful to see you, as always.”

At witnessing Apollo’s reaction, Klavier immediately knew that he had made a mistake. Instead of a playful scowl or a shy smile, Apollo’s face turned beet-red, his eyes flitting this way and that as if looking for an escape. His chest was visibly heaving with the force of his breathing.

“I—ah—W-Well, tha—I-I mean, you too! I MEAN—” Both of them winced at the sudden rise in volume, Apollo’s hands rising to his face as if wanting to push the sound back down his throat.

“Apollo, breathe!” Klavier said, his voice nearly a shout, “In and out. Is it okay if I touch you?”

Apollo’s eyes were nearly bulging out of his head at that statement, causing Klavier to pull away slightly. Then, a small nod, and Klavier was leading him into his apartment, arms wrapped protectively around his smaller frame as they settled onto the couch.

“Keep going, Leibling. You’re doing wonderfully,” Klavier praised, holding Apollo to his chest and rubbing circles into his back.

The two of them spent two minutes struggling through breathing exercises until Apollo’s breathing finally evened out. Klavier was still concerned about the blood rushing to Apollo’s face, but he hoped that, now that Apollo finally calmed down, he would start to recover from the aftermath of what was likely a nasty panic attack. First things first, Klavier had to get to the bottom of Apollo’s behavior.

“Feeling better?” Klavier said gently, loosening his hold on the defense attorney. His heart thrummed in delight when Apollo made no move to leave the embrace.

“…A bit,” Apollo whispered, his voice slightly hoarse, “Sorry about that.”

“No apologies necessary. I’m just worried.”

“I-It’s nothing serious, really,” Apollo stuttered, finally shifting out of Klavier’s arms to sit a bit away from him on the couch. The loss of contact made Klavier shiver.

“You know what I would say about that kind of thing, right?” Klavier chided.

“…It must be serious if it makes me so upset. I know, I know.”

“That’s right,” Klavier smiled, “Now, tell me what’s on your mind. I’m sure Ayame can wait.”

“Isn’t she literally about to be stabbed?”

“She waited this long. Her dramatic moment can wait.”

Apollo chuckled, his laughter strained.

“I… Okay. I guess I’ve been meaning to tell you today, anyway.”

Every moment since Apollo opened the door, from the slight recoil at the mention of touch to the few inches separating them on the couch, slammed into Klavier with the strength and speed of a bullet train. As if their roles were suddenly reversed, Klavier felt his heart hammering in his chest, his throat constricting and his lungs painfully devoid of oxygen.

“Tell me what?” Klavier asked, amazed at his ability to speak through the growing lump in his chest.

Apollo took a deep, steadying breath, his entire body shaking with the effort.

“Klavier,” he began, “To be honest, when I first met you, I couldn’t stand you.”

An excellent start, Klavier thought, wincing at the jab.

“At first,” Apollo emphasized, obviously catching Klavier’s pained reaction, “You annoyed me because you seemed… too perfect. Not only are you rich, famous, handsome, and charismatic, but you are also intelligent and hardworking. You showed up that park looking like you just walked off the red carpet, and then you proceeded to humiliate me in court. I felt so… small, when I was around you, if that makes sense?”

“You’re eight inches shorter than me, so that sentiment does make sense,” Klavier joked weakly, his heart pounding to the beat of can’t stand, annoyed, intelligent, handsome, handsome, handsome.

“Shut up, let me speak!” Apollo shushed, lightly slapping Klavier on the arm, “Anyways, I kinda wanted to hate you. I felt like you were patronizing me, even though you were nothing but nice to me since day one. And… I guess I’ve had a bad history with making friends. I’m not… the easiest person to be friends with.”

“That’s not—”

“Let me finish!” Apollo snapped, “What I’m trying to say is that I never thought that I would become friends with you, Klav. We just seemed so different, and you seemed to be in an entirely different stratosphere than me. I didn’t think that we would end up interacting much outside of the courtroom. But… I was wrong.”

Apollo smiled, something shaky and scared and just for Klavier.

“I was so wrong about you. I mean, yeah, you are really fucking smart and stupidly handsome and that still kinda irritates me, to be honest, but you’re also so nice and funny and—” Apollo’s grin twisted into something mischievous. “—a huge fucking nerd.”

“You take that back!” Klavier gasped, his smile widening despite how much he wanted to burst into tears.

“I said what I said,” Apollo grinned, “The point is, you’re actually pretty cool. You seem to care about me and what I say, which is not something I can say for a lot of people. You have no idea how much it means to me, so… thank you. Really. These past few months were so much fun.”

Apollo’s smile slowly faded, like hearts in the sand slowly being carried away by the tide.

“But… things started to change.”

Static filled Klavier’s ears like he was trapped inside a television screen. He felt like he was drowning in fears now confirmed. It was like that night when he thought Apollo would cancel their marathons, except now it was a million times worse because Klavier had accumulated an even greater amount of precious moments, all captured and placed within a special part of his mind like one would store photographs in an album.

“I mean, I’m sure you probably noticed, too. The stupid jokes that somehow made me laugh, the specifically-chosen snacks, the… t-the closeness.”

He knew. Apollo knew. He knew about his stupid crush—except that word didn’t seem to fit anymore because it was more, so much more, so much that it as almost too much—and he was uncomfortable and he was going to put an end to everything.

“I-I mean, I’m surprise we haven’t had this conversation before. It was so obvious, looking back.”

Obvious. Obvious. Obvious.

“But anyway, I figured that it was only fair that I told you straight. I mean… as straight as I can. H-heh.”

He’s going to kick you out. You made him uncomfortable, you idiot idiot IDIOT.

“A-anyway, and I know you probably know this already, and I’m so sorry if it makes things awkward between us…”

I’m sorry I couldn’t hide it better.

Apollo took one last, steeling breath, looking at Klavier like he was a murderer he was determined to place behind bars.

I love—

“I like you.”

His brain went completely silent, like an orchestra had suddenly stopped playing, leaving only an echo of music to bounce off the walls of the huge auditorium. Snippets of dialogue and the moments in between, flipped and examined and rearranged like evidence, suddenly formed a picture Klavier had only seen in his dreams. A picture that, now that Klavier’s mind wasn’t clouded by irrational panic, seemed laughably obvious.

Forget every bit of credibility Klavier had as a prosecutor. He was the stupidest motherfucker on the face of the earth.

“You—”

“Yeah…” Apollo wilted, his arms wrapping around his midriff as he curled into himself.

“You like—”

“Goddammit, Klavier! Want me to repeat myself!?”

“Yes,” Klavier said immediately.

“Because I—Wait, what?”

Klavier suddenly lurched forward, grabbing a shocked Apollo and leaning in close. He could count each speckle of light in Apollo’s chocolate-brown eyes as his heart sang in response to the closeness.

“Say it again, bitte,” Klavier said, his words bordering on a plea.

Apollo’s eyes were wide and searching, gaze flitting from his intense gaze to the hands on his arms and back again.

“Apollo.”

That one word, the call of his name spoken like a prayer, seemed to contain the answer Apollo was looking for. His breath hitched, his eyes suddenly swirling with emotion.

“You—”

The press of Klavier’s lips against his was all the confirmation Apollo needed. Every part of Klavier’s being was filled with song as his kissed Apollo, his soul basking in warmth as he drowned in his sun. He felt Apollo smile into the kiss and suddenly, for one brief moment, it was both too much and not enough. They broke apart for a second, euphoric and giggly, before returning for another kiss as beautiful as the chorus to a love song.

The spent the next few minute sharing kisses and laughter, their plans for the evening all but forgotten. Eventually, the two pulled apart for more than a few seconds, foreheads gently pressed together as they took in the moment. Finally, Apollo broke the silence.

“Well, that confession went better than I thought it would.”

Klavier chuckled, pressing a kiss to the tip of Apollo’s nose.

“As if it could have gone any other way.”

“Psh, you’re one to talk,” Apollo said, squirming slightly under Klavier’s attention, “I’m sure you could count the number of rejections you’ve received on one hand, if even that.”

“That didn’t stop me from worrying about how you would react to the horribly obvious crush I’ve had for the past two years,” Klavier countered. Apollo froze in place as if he were a show someone had paused, and Klavier could practically see the buffering bar swirling in front of his head.

“Your—obvious—two years!?”

“Honestly, it may have been even longer,” Klavier shrugged, laughing despite himself at Apollo’s reaction, “But what can I say? How could I not fall for someone so positively enchanting?”

“E-enchant—”

“And none of that self-deprecation, mein leibe,” Klavier interrupted, cutting off Apollo’s words with another kiss, “Nothing you can say will change how much I love you.”

Apollo’s shock dissolved into something purer, like wonder.

“Love…?”

“No need to say it back, schatzi,” Klavier reassured, pressing another kiss on his forehead, “Just know that that’s how I feel.”

Apollo didn’t say anything, whatever words he may have wanted to say stuck under a clump of emotion. After a moment, he simply locked Klavier in another beautiful, burning kiss before curling up close.

“I... yeah. I mean… I don’t know if I can say it yet, but…”

“No pressure,” Klavier whispered, pressing soft kisses onto the crown of his head.

“But you know I do, right?”

Klavier didn’t think that he could smile any wider, but that didn’t stop him from trying regardless.

“Now, I think I do.”

The two remained in that comfortable position for a while, the silence only punctuated by short, sweet kisses and whispered endearments.

“…Do you wanna start watching the show?” Apollo finally asked.

“…Nah, pick something boring.”

Klavier cupped Apollo’s cheek, and it was like he was holding sunlight between his fingers.

“I have a feeling we won’t be watching much of it.”