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His day had been awful.
Even thinking it to himself as he walked – or rather dragged himself – through the door, it didn’t do reality justice. After all, lots of people probably got home at the end of a disappointing day and thought the very same. It had been a long time since he’d felt so utterly exhausted and angry at the world for taking advantage of every single available opportunity to metaphorically kick him in the balls.
Frankly, with the way the day had gone, he was surprised he hadn't been literally kicked in the balls at least once.
He was dripping on the carpet so badly that he could almost imagine that he himself had been turned into a raincloud merely by virtue of spending so much time under them. His stomach was almost cramping with hunger, but his mood was so foul that it soured the thought of actually eating anything, as unhealthy as it sounded; it was strange to him that this odd feeling of being both starving and completely against the thought of food could possibly exist in one body. If only his brain and his stomach could stop bickering for a moment, maybe he’d be able to find the will to boil some pasta, but so far, he was having no such luck.
“You look grumpier than usual.” Apollo realized that he’d been leaning listlessly against the kitchen counter for the better part of a minute when Klavier spoke up. Despite his omnipresent playful grin, his tone was surprisingly genuine. It seemed even Klavier Gavin could tell when Apollo was beyond his capacity for tolerating being toyed with.
“Bad day,” he muttered, and despite his stubborn lack of desire to eat, he went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water, thinking to himself that if he could only evolve the ability to hydrate via osmosis across his skin, he’d probably be a lot less thirsty by now.
“Herr Blackquill didn’t go easy on you, did he?”
Apollo actually laughed at that, and it came out so sharp and hollow that it almost surprised him. “Blackquill doesn’t go easy on anyone. Not even Athena. Least of all me.” He slammed the water bottle down on the counter. “Mr. Wright shouldn’t have taken that case to begin with. The guy was obviously guilty. Not of murder, at least, but he’s been cheating his taxes for years. Years. You want to know how many years?”
He didn’t wait for Klavier to reply. “Twenty-seven. Twenty-seven years of tax fraud. If we’d known it was that bad, we never would have taken him on, but the guy was so twitchy that I could barely get a read on him to begin with. And then once Prosecutor Blackquill revealed just how much digging he’d done on him, we were screwed. It was downright embarrassing. And not only that, he but he had his damn bird drop the evidence right there in front of me, with talon marks on the corners of the pages and everything-”
“And I take it that’s not all that’s bothering you,” Klavier told him.
“Why do you care?”
Klavier huffed out a laugh at that. “Why do I care? Oh, mein Apollo, how can you even ask?” He seated himself on the arm of the couch and patted his knee. “Come on, now. Tell Uncle Klavier all about this horrid day of yours.”
Apollo grimaced. “Okay, first of all, never…and I do mean never call yourself Uncle Klavier again. That’s just…” He shivered. “Creepy.” Klavier just shrugged, and Apollo went over to him anyway, collapsing down onto the plush cushions. If Klavier cared that he was getting water all over what was probably a pretty damn expensive sofa, he didn’t show it in the slightest.
“I lost the trial this morning. It was pretty open and shut once Prosecutor Blackquill put the last nail in our coffin.” He dropped his voice down low, adding as much grit to it as he could force out as he said, “’A blind man in a dust storm could have seen that your charge was guilty from the beginning. It seems my feathered friend’s sight is still far sharper than yours will ever be, Justice-dono.’”
Klavier chuckled. “Our good samurai’s parting words of wisdom, ja?”
“If you could call it that,” Apollo huffed. “But that was just my morning. So I went back to the Agency to do some housekeeping and of course I realize that I forgot to pack a lunch this morning. So hey, I think, maybe I’ll just go down the street and get a slice of pizza or something.”
“And what time was this?”
“Around one I guess?”
Klavier winced. “Ach…I think I know where this is going. Payne?”
“Paynes,” he blurted, hissing out the final letter with as much venom as he could muster. “Both of them. And of course, they see me, and they’ve heard about that morning’s trial-“
“Word does spread quickly around the office, and those two are insufferable gossips.”
“So they practically ripped me apart, all ‘rookie’ this and ‘newbie’ that. I’ve had my badge for the better part of three years!”
“And yet, to those two, we’ll all be rookies until the day we die.”
“But who cares? I’ve dealt with them before. It was fine. So I got my damn pizza and I walked back to the damn office, and Trucy is practicing some new trick that involves…I don’t even know…birds, and confetti, and music, and of course she needs a stand-in for a stage assistant. Now, don’t get me wrong, Trucy is a damn gem most of the time, but by the time I finally got to eat my lunch, it was cold, I was covered in confetti and feathers, and it was only three in the afternoon.”
“Is that everything?” Klavier asked. Apollo shot him a look that said, “Don’t even get me started.”
So he continued: “So we didn’t have any more clients that day, so I left a few hours later. And I was halfway back when…” Instead of saying anything more, he just looked out the window where the deluge that had opened up on him on his bike ride was still in full force.
“I would have come to get you, you know,” Klavier said.
“Yeah well, I can’t predict the weather, so that’s a moot point, isn’t it?” His words had come out with more bite than he’d intended, and he immediately regretted it, sighing and hiding his face in his hands. “I’m sorry…shit, I’m really sorry…I didn’t mean to unload all that on you…”
“I did ask.” It struck Apollo then just how unfazed Klavier was, still the picture of patience despite the fact that his account of his day had seemed to come out all in one boiling mass of pent up frustration. “Feeling any better?”
He shrugged. “I guess…”
“It might help to get you out of those wet clothes.”
Apollo looked down at himself, suddenly realizing that somewhere during his venting session, he had started to shiver. He certainly did not need to add a cold on top of everything else.
So he went to the bedroom, stripped out of his sopping courtroom attire and let it all fall to the floor with a depressingly wet plop, and lay on his stomach on top of the sheets in a fresh pair of sweatpants. He had to admit, he was starting to feel better already just by virtue of ridding himself of the feeling of wet fabric sticking to his skin.
The bed dipped, and a warm hand slid over his shoulder. “Better?”
“Mmf.”
“Maybe there’s something I can do to help even more, ja?”
Apollo sighed; as appealing as what Klavier seemed to be getting at sounded, he didn’t think he had the energy. Honestly, all he wanted to do right now was melt into the bed. “I don’t really think I’m in the mood, Klav.”
“Well it’s good to hear you using pet names again, Forehead,” Klavier chuckled. “But I wasn’t talking about sex, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Really?” Apollo turned his head to look at him, cheek still pressed to the pillow. “You were thinking about something other than sex?”
“You act like it’s a revelation Biblical proportions.” Even as he spoke, a soft click punctuated his words, and the soft scent of eucalyptus wafted into Apollo’s nostrils. “You’re so tense, schatzi.”
He drew in a quick breath when Klavier laid those hands on him, slowly rubbing the lotion into his shoulders and back. He hummed softly, closing his eyes and resting his forehead on his folded arms. Klavier had always been excellent with his hands in bed, but this was different than the calculated, almost mischievous way his fingers skimmed over Apollo’s skin during sex. Then, it was almost like Klavier played him like an instrument, finding just the right chords to pluck that would make him sing.
Now, his touches were gentle and unhurried, the heels of his hands pressing with an exquisite sort of pressure, just enough on just the right points to make his tension melt away. Before long, the crick in his neck was gone, and his headache was fading too. He was just barely dancing on the line between consciousness and sleep, blissfully relaxed, when Klavier pressed a surprisingly chaste kiss on the back of his neck.
He wasn’t even sure how long Klavier had been working on him, or even if he’d actually fallen asleep at some point, but when he blinked and pushed himself up on his knees, he practically felt like a different person. “Wow…”
“You fell asleep on me there for a bit,” Klavier said fondly.
Apollo felt himself blushing, just slightly. “Did I?”
“Not for long. Just a few minutes. You seemed like you needed it, ja?”
Apollo wanted to say something, maybe a thank you or an apology for having to put up with his foul mood, but his stomach spoke first. “But now, I think what you need is something to eat that isn’t cold pizza.”
As boneless as he still felt after that divine massage, now that his anger had dissipated, his stomach finally won out. “God yes.”
Klavier made him breakfast for dinner, and Apollo put away three helpings of eggs and bacon before he finally leaned back in his chair with a satisfied groan. God, he’d forgotten how good food could taste when he’d been craving it for so long. “Well, we’re out of eggs,” Klavier said with an entertained little smile.
“Sorry…”
“Ach…bitte, schatzi. You needed it. Color me flattered, actually. My cooking skills are nothing compared to yours, but I can at least scramble an egg, ja?”
There was that grin again, that easy little smile that could light up a room and charm a crowd. It was almost unbelievable, just how quickly a mood could change under the right circumstances. When he’d walked in the door, he’d been ready to punch the first person who looked at him wrong straight in the jaw. Now that the knot in his back had loosened and he had some food in him, though, the rain outside didn’t seem so bad.
Especially considering that it wasn’t pouring down on his head anymore.
The two of them moved to the sofa again. Apollo had never asked how much it had cost, but however much it was, it was worth every cent. Maybe it was the lingering effects from the massage, or maybe it was ludicrously high-end plush cushions, but before long he was pleasantly boneless and leaning back against the pillows while Klavier finished the dishes.
It was oddly domestic, all things considered. “If you’d told me two years ago that I’d be lying on Klavier Gavin’s couch, watching him do dishes, I would’ve called you crazy.”
Klavier laughed as he sat beside him, tucking himself between Apollo’s legs and sliding up his torso with a smirk. “And if you’d told me I’d be sleeping with a defense attorney, I’d have said the same thing.”
“Shut up, prosecutor.”
He very much wanted to kiss him. Yeah, that sounded like exactly the right thing to do – with nothing to stop him, he tugged Klavier close until he managed to press his chapped lips against Klavier’s soft, vaguely cherry-flavored ones. “Clingy all of a sudden?” Klavier muttered against his mouth.
“S’been a long day,” Apollo mumbled. He made a point of running his fingers through Klavier’s obnoxiously silky hair. “Long and stressful.”
“So you’ve made abundantly clear, schatzi.” His lips migrated to Apollo’s jaw, trailing toward his neck. “At least your back is feeling better, ja?”
Apollo kissed him again instead of answering, letting out a soft moan when Klavier shifted and wound up with one leg pressed gently between his thighs. “How much did this couch cost?” he asked on an exhale.
Klavier laughed against Apollo’s cheek. “What?”
“The couch. It feels expensive.”
“It is expensive.” A beat. “Honestly, I can’t quite remember. Do you care?”
“I’m curious.”
“Probably a few thousand.”
Apollo’s eyebrows shot up. “A few thousand?”
“It is a nice couch, Forehead.”
“I guess.” He paused, sighing as Klavier nuzzled against his collarbone. “Maybe we should move to the bed.”
“Mm?”
“It’d be a shame if we made a mess of it.” Klavier blinked at him. “Since it’s such an expensive couch.”
It was probably the worst proposition of sex he’d ever attempted, but Klavier laughed even as Apollo tried to play off his deepening blush. “Forehead…that was…” Klavier let out a snort that was just this side of undignified. “…that was furchtbar.”
“I’m assuming that doesn’t mean sexy.”
“And yet, somehow, I’ve never been more attracted to you, schatzi.” He pressed a kiss against Apollo’s nose. “Thought you weren’t in the mood.”
“I wasn’t. But you’re being very…persuasive.”
“Mm…wasn’t trying to persuade you to do anything.”
“Managed to anyway,” Apollo muttered, pulling Klavier close and pressing a lazy kiss against his jawline. “Bed?”
“Soon.” Klavier smirked. “After all, there’s no hurry, ja?” Another pause, another kiss, this time against Apollo’s shoulder, then his clavicle, his sternum…
It wasn’t hard to figure out where he was going – Apollo let his hand rest against the back of Klavier’s head, fingers tangled in his increasingly messy hair as Klavier's lips grazed his stomach. “Really?”
“You want me to stop?” Klavier asked him, eyes trained upward from where he was getting comfortable between Apollo’s legs.
He already knew damn well. “How do you say fuck no in German?”
Klavier chuckled as he tugged Apollo’s sweatpants down just enough to press a kiss against his hip bone. “I think the English gets the point across just as well, Forehead.” One hand pressed against his inner thigh, pushing his legs apart as Klavier’s thumb stroked against the worn fabric.
Apollo relaxed against the pillows, letting his eyes slide closed as Klavier pressed his mouth against the hard line of his erection through his pants. It was no surprise that Klavier was good with his mouth – he was a musician after all, so it came with the territory – but when he finally wrapped his lips around him and pressed his damn talented tongue against the underside of his length, Apollo let out a soft moan.
“Feeling better already?” Klavier asked, smirking.
“Mmm…” Apollo said.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
“Mhmm.”
He kept his eyes closed, Klavier laughing softly against his inner thigh before leaning in again.
There was no hurry – Klavier found a slow and easy rhythm, humming as he moved. What the melody was, Apollo didn’t know, but he had more to focus on now than music, especially when Klavier ran those obnoxiously soft hands of his up the insides of Apollo’s thighs, gently pushing them farther apart as he did.
Apollo bit his lip and let out a muted groan.
“Is that a groan of encouragement I hear?” Klavier chuckled.
Apollo cracked one eye open to look down at him. “I’m sure not telling you to stop.”
“Ich hoffe nicht.” He turned, pressing a kiss against his hip bone, then another against the soft skin of his inner thigh, following the path of his fingers all the way down to his knee. Apollo fought the urge to squirm. “Honestly, schatzi, this is the last place I ever would have thought would make you so desperate.”
“I’m not desperate,” he insisted – he sincerely hoped his face wasn’t as red as it felt. “I just…it’s been a long day, okay?”
“Ach, ja, I know, I know.” Klavier pressed his hands against Apollo’s hips, thumbs stroking against his skin placatingly. “I’ll stop toying with you, I promise.” His mouth was so close that Apollo could feel Klavier’s breath hot against his erection as he said: “So tense.”
He had a retort ready, but it died in his throat when Klavier wrapped his lips around him again.
Klavier massaged the outsides of his thighs with the same tenderness and care that he’d given to loosening up his shoulders just a few hours before, mouth and tongue moving in a rhythm so precise that Apollo doubted anyone other than a musician could ever match it. He was panting, his sweatpants hanging uselessly off of one ankle as he dug his fingers into Klavier’s unruly hair.
He pushed himself up on his elbows and looked down the length of his body at Klavier, who was looking at him with that same glint in his eye as he always had when he performed. Apollo made a choked noise, heat pooling in his stomach.
Some kind of word managed to make it past his lips – it was somewhere between something profane and Klavier’s name, or maybe both at once. He didn't exactly have the presence of mind to care as Klavier's brow pinched, those musician's hands of his squeezing Apollo's thighs encouragingly.
The relief was immediate, soaking into every inch of his sore muscles as Klavier gently reached up to press him back against the plush cushions. He could have melted into that obscenely expensive sofa right then and there, but he managed to stay just conscious enough to reach for the tissue box on the coffee table and hand it to Klavier, who took one appreciatively and pressed it to his lips.
Klavier crawled up Apollo’s torso and pressed a soft kiss to his jaw. “Better?”
“Definitely not worse,” Apollo muttered, and he let out a sigh that rattled him all the way down to his bones. “I needed that…”
“I thought you might.” Another kiss landed lightly on the tip of his nose. “Bed, schatzi?”
Apollo hummed thoughtfully, running his hands down Klavier's flanks. “I don't know,” he muttered, a pleasant drowsy feeling creeping in on the edges of his consciousness. “This is a really expensive couch.”
“Ja,” Klavier said to the crook of Apollo's neck.
“A really nice, expensive couch. I mean, I feel like we should get our money's worth.”
“My money's worth, you mean.”
“Still...” He tugged Klavier closer, until their noses bumped together in a clumsy, messy kiss.
Klavier pulled away just enough to mumble, “Schatzi...are you saying you want to sleep on this couch?”
It was tempting – the cushions were plush and warm, and the afterglow made it even more inviting. But he smirked, holding Klavier close to him, running his hands down over Klavier's ribs, his stomach...
“Not quite sleep,” Apollo said when Klavier let out a surprised little noise and rocked against him. “Maybe later.”
“Later,” Klavier agreed, nodding quickly against Apollo's jaw.
Much later, as it turned out, but at least by the time they actually crawled into bed, drowsy and sated, the rain had all but stopped.