Chapter Text
All in all, it had been a crappy day. Apollo had woken up at 6AM, cycled to the courthouse, and had to endure Klavier’s stupid pretty mouth smirking at him for hours on end. After he arrived back at home, eventually having won the case but not managed to wipe that idiotic grin off of Gavin’s annoyingly perfect face, Apollo had stripped off his vest and pants and resolved to buy a dartboard and print off a picture of Klavier Gavin to stick on it. However, Apollo was only human. Being a very emotional man who faced off daily against LA’s most infuriating prosecutors, he was no stranger to an angry jerk-off session.
He grabbed Mikeko off his bed and shut him out of his bedroom and switched on his speaker, switching on his usual playlist. Granted, the songs of Billy Joel and Joni Mitchell weren’t exactly suited to his current plans, but if Clay heard anything else through the wall they shared he’d immediately know what was up. Apollo stripped himself of his shirt and shoved it irately into the hamper and sat with his arms crossed on his bed. He huffed a sigh and opened his laptop. He scrolled past various pop-up ads advertising boner pills for a while until he found a promising-looking video featuring a jacked-looking blond actor and a slightly leaner brunet.
Apollo slowly pulled down his boxers and massaged himself experimentally. Unsurprisingly, he was already pretty wet. He tended to be pretty keyed up after the six-hour long mocking sessions that Klavier called trials. As the two men on the screen began getting into position, Apollo’s fingers crept to the spot that made him weak in the knees. He could afford to prolong this for a while, though. He figured he deserved a break after the day he had had. So, Apollo traced around his clit in small teasing circles, exhaling softly through his nostrils. Apollo closed his eyes and lay his head against his headboard, sighing in relief. He had needed this— all day, Klavier had been snidely complimenting him on his deductions, poking fun at his (completely normally-sized!) forehead, winking at him across the court every time he refuted one of Apollo’s points. And after the trial, he had been shameless enough to invite Apollo for dinner for the fiftieth time. In his rush to leave, Apollo hadn’t even offered up his usual excuse of ‘Sorry, I have plans with my roommate’. He had simply shaken his head and almost sprinted away, leaving Klavier looking dumbfounded, almost crestfallen. On his ride back from the courthouse, Apollo had thought of nothing else except finally getting his own back on Gavin, showing him that, to Apollo, he wasn’t the roguish, divinely gorgeous rockstar that the rest of the world saw. Sure, he was extremely handsome, but Apollo felt a thrill run through him, reaching the tips of his fingers at the thought that he held some kind of power over Klavier.
Apollo’s fingers followed their usual routine of diving into his heat and using his own natural lubrication to stimulate his clit. He slipped his index and middle fingers into his mouth and sucked on them before plunging his middle finger into his now-aching cunt. He moved his finger inside himself in a beckoning motion, thrilling at the joint stimulation of his clitoris and his g-spot. It wasn’t long before he added his other finger, exploring his walls briefly before returning to his original motion. Apollo knew this dance well and felt his breathing begin to quicken, choked whimpers escaping his mouth. However, his mind was getting off-track. It usually did after a long day at work, particularly when Klavier was in it.
Apollo opened his eyes and refocused on the video he had been ignoring. The brunet actor was riding the blond, whimpering as the blond grunted, begging for more. Apollo realised then that the blond actor looked a little like Klavier. Klavier’s hair was longer, and the man was slightly less tanned, but they had similar bone structure and the same piercing blue eyes. Another thrill ran through Apollo’s body, spurring him to increase his own pace. Apollo wished that the two men would separate, only quickly, so that he could catch a glimpse of the blond man’s cock— not that it was anything to do with the way he looked, it was just that the brunet seemed to be enjoying it immensely. Apollo wanted to be able to imagine what that actor’s cock might feel like inside him, far larger than his own two fingers, stretching and pounding into him until he saw stars. Another moan escaped Apollo’s lips and he closed his eyes once more, trying to imagine the scene.
He wanted to feel the actor’s breaths stuttering against his skin, his cock twitching against Apollo’s walls. He wanted to run his hands up and down the actor’s chest— he presumed it would be defined, he hadn’t noticed it particularly— and leave scratches on his back, Apollo’s olive-skinned fingers marking the man’s tanned shoulder-blades as he slammed into him again and again—
Apollo’s eyes rolled back in his head as his orgasm hit him like a flash flood, making it impossible to contain his groans of ecstasy. His fingers twitched against his clit and inside himself and his legs shook violently as he rode out the intense waves of pleasure that overtook him. Finally, after what seemed like a blissful eternity, Apollo’s breathing stabilised and he lay back in his bed, staring at his ceiling, limbs limp and useless. The enthused, perhaps exaggerated moans of the two men on Apollo’s laptop continued, and Apollo reached over with one of his clean fingers to pause the video. Apollo’s eyes locked onto the blond actor— what had he seen in him that had elicited the reaction Apollo had had? He looked entirely different to what Apollo had been imagining— his mind had told him that the man’s abs were more defined, his skin far darker, his waist slimmer. And yet, Apollo had had what was perhaps the most intense orgasm of his life, not even looking at him, just thinking about a man that did not exist—
Oh. He did exist. This was bad. This was very, very bad for Apollo. Apollo sat up in his bed, still quivering from what he had just experienced, and slammed his head into the wall behind it.
“Hey! ‘Pollo! What the fuck are you doing in there? I’m trying to play Halo!”
Urgh. How much had Clay heard? Apollo was by no stretch of the imagination a quiet man, and what he had just felt had been powerful, to say the least. Also— Halo? How old was he? God forbid an astronaut play anything non-related to space.
Apollo sighed once more, decidedly more irate than he was before. Great. So he had a thing for Klavier fucking Gavin. He was no better than the screaming twelve-year-olds Apollo had rolled his eyes at during his concerts. In fact, he was worse— he was just as bad as Mr Wright. He had a thing for his infuriating professional rival, who was coincidentally Crowd magazine’s Sexiest Man Alive for the third year in a row. Great. Just great. Apollo decided then and there that this ‘thing’, whatever it was, had to remain a complete secret. With how good it had felt, though, Apollo decided that in his quest to find a suitably annoying Klavier face to stick on his dartboard, he’d find some of his other photoshoots to save to a well-hidden folder on his laptop.
Apollo felt gross. Klavier was annoying, sure, but he was a good person who cared about finding the truth in court. And here Apollo was, brushing him off at the courthouse and jacking off to him within the hour. Apollo put his boxers back on and trudged to the shower in an effort to wash the pervert out of him. He squirted the body wash onto his palm and rubbed it between his hands, slicking it all over his body. He idly wondered what body wash Klavier used and how it would smell when Apollo reached his pussy, and felt a sudden jolt of electricity thrum through him. Christ, again? Apollo scowled and resigned himself silently to his fate as he rinsed himself off and stepped out of the shower. He wrapped a towel around himself, reached for his phone and began to Google ‘where to buy a dartboard near me’.