PW, "The Slow Ascent after the Sharpest Drop: XV," Apollo/Klavier, NC-17
Um. Hi guys. Remember me? That chic who said she'd have another chapter of this story posted back in ... July of 2008?
*cough* I'm only twenty-six months a little late in posting this up. Right?
Honestly, I tried to continue the story. Really I did. But I got conflicting feedback-one call for a super-happy ending, one concern that I was going too saccharin-and it kind of ... killed the story? Something like that? Honestly I don't even remember now what stopped me dead in my tracks. I do know that a lot has happened since I last posted: I got my first full-time career-related job, moved to a new state ten hours from the town I grew up in, traveled to six countries I'd never visited before, became a fully certified DSO (designated school official-which is cool because back when this story was posted, I'd yet to learn what a DSO even was, let alone what we do), wrote a full master's thesis, and a complete novel (both of which I still have yet to publish, wtf).
This story came from a day spent in a van in the parking lot of an amusement park. No, I'm not kidding. I loaded every chapter of TSAATSD onto my laptop in the park's wireless cafe, went out to my van (the college's van, I'm just the sorry SOB who has to drive the thing), re-read the entire thing, then sat back and wrote almost all of this in one go. Got more planned for you, but no promises on the updates-this career-oriented DSO job thing is seriously time-intensive.
I don't know if I've captured what I had going on in the other chapters, I don't know where I'm going with the story, and worst of all, I don't know where I was planning on going with it back when I was still working on it full-time. That said, I hope it's enjoyable, I hope it doesn't disappoint, and I hope to have more of it written and posted for y'all soon.
Oh, and finally, it's dedicated with laughter & love for my friend Lil who doesn't know she booted me into finishing this, but did. If you like this story, you owe her your thanks. I wouldn't've picked it back up without her feedback sparking my interest in moving forward.
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
Part Eight
Part Nine
Part Ten
Part Eleven
Part Twelve
Part Thirteen
Part Fourteen
Part Fifteen
The Slow Ascent after the Sharpest Drop
Part XV
by mistr3ss Quickly
That night, for the first time since the incident, Apollo and Klavier make love.
Apollo initiates, moving from gentle, reassuring kisses, to the deeper sort of kisses that used to make him feel as horny and desperate and awkward as a teenager, despite his actual age. He pulls at Klavier's clothing when Klavier moans into his mouth, strips himself when Klavier pulls away with a grunt of frustration and undresses fully.
He laughs when Klavier berates himself for not packing lubricant or condoms. Gets a smack on the ass when he directs Klavier to the side-pocket of the duffel-bag he packed himself while Klavier was busy fussing over the toiletries, explains with a shrug that pulls at his burns that it seemed like it'd be worth it to be prepared. Just in case.
"In case of what, baby?" Klavier says, slinking up the bed-still made, the polyester comforter vaguely itchy under Apollo's bare skin.
"In case you decided to stop treating me like I'm made of glass and let me t-take care of you," Apollo says. "For once."
"Ah. You mean in case I got the stick out of my ass and needed something else to put in its place, no?" Klavier says.
Apollo can taste the laughter on his words when he arches up for a kiss. Blushes over them anyway, fumbling a little with the bottle of lube Klavier presses into his hand.
He takes his time, much more aware than he's ever been, before, of the tightness of his lover's body, the way the muscles around his fingers clamp down every time Klavier gasps, realizes that it's actually the other way around, Klavier gasping in response to his body tightening, resisting what they both want. He shoulders Klavier off of him, gets the man to roll onto his back with no small amount of difficulty and resistance. Saves himself from his lover's questions of what are we doing, baby? by covering the head of Klavier's erection with his mouth, works his fingers in and out of Klavier's body with much less difficulty once he's set a rhythm, sucking and licking and teasing.
He keeps Klavier in that position, spread open and vulnerable on the cheap bedspread when he's decided Klavier is ready for him. Bats Klavier's hands away when the older man tries to help him with the condom, tries to touch him. Tries to stroke him, to distract him.
"Hold yourself open for me?" he says, guiding Klavier's hands to the singer's muscular thighs.
Klavier whines. "You will be the undoing of me, baby," he says. "Mein Gott."
Apollo doesn't argue. He bites his lip and presses forward, exhaling slowly as he pushes just a few inches into his lover's body. Doesn't bother telling Klavier that he's feeling pretty well undone, himself.
He lasts longer than he's expecting to last, even has a little trouble finding his completion inside his lover, once the initial thrill of tight-warm-tight has passed. He moves slowly at first, not wanting to come too quickly and leave his partner unsatisfied. Discovers that waiting is a mistake, one which allows the strain of his slow-healing injuries to eat at his body's stamina, leaving him breathless and tired and aching where his burns are the worst. Beneath him, Klavier moans softly with each thrust, moving with him once he's established a rhythm. Doesn't give any indication that he's noticed Apollo's difficulties, devoted fully to the pleasure of the act, the thrill of getting fucked. He whines a little when Apollo stops thrusting and focuses fully on stroking him. Lifts himself, thigh muscles tight and trembling where they grip Apollo's hips as he works himself up and down, fucking himself on Apollo's erection.
"You should not tease me, baby," he scolds, breathlessly. "Not after-ah Gott-not when it has been such a long, long time."
Apollo pushes forward to meet each downward push of his lover's body. Swallows hard as his body warms once again towards orgasm, slow but steady. Wonderful.
"No teasing, huh?" he says, feeling for Klavier's cock. "How's this, then?"
A careful squeeze at the root. A twist at the crown. Steady, firm strokes in time with the up-and-down rhythm of Klavier's hips.
Klavier groans. "Good, ah Gott baby, it's so good."
Apollo shivers. "Yeah," he says. "Yeah, it is."
Good enough that he ignores the pull of his burns, the fatigue of his muscles, and fucks Klavier into the mattress for the last heart-pounding moments before orgasm takes him. He can hear himself making noise as he reaches his peak-little grunts and groans, decently quiet from years of making love to his court-room rival in apartments with neighbors only a thin wall away-but his throat is raw after his orgasm rips through him, making him blush as the aftershocks die down and the realization hits him that he probably shouted when he came, loudly enough that he was probably audible in other rooms, thanks to his Chords of Steel training.
He pushes his embarrassment aside and focuses on bringing Klavier off, instead. Ignores the older man's protests and brings him off with lips and tongue and throat, the fingers of his good hand pushing into Klavier's body, fucking him as hard and fast as Apollo regrets the rest of his body wouldn't allow him to do.
"Baby, stop," Klavier gasps, just as Apollo's jaw is starting to ache, one of the burns on his neck feeling raw where the angle of his body is pulling at it. "Stop, baby, Apollo, I'm-ah I will come soon, you should-ngh!"
Apollo takes it, swallows what he can and keeps the rest in his mouth, swallowing once his throat's gotten used to the idea and loosens. He licks his lips, afterwards, chuckles softly when Klavier gets up to fetch him a cup of water from the sink at the far end of the room. Says it's fine when Klavier frets over him, offering him a cough-drop to cover the flavor of his semen.
"It's really not so bad," he says, pulling Klavier close and kissing him.
"You are very bad at lying, my dear Forehead," Klavier says against his lips. "I am tasting it only second-hand, and I can tell that it is unpleasant."
Apollo feels his face heat. "Not so bad every once in a while," he amends.
Klavier laughs and kisses him again, pulls him gently into the bathroom and bathes with him, Apollo's body moving sluggishly, as tired as if he'd run a mile. Kisses Apollo over and over while they bathe. Tells him how much he loves him.
Apollo feels his chest swell, just as ridiculously pleased and in love as he felt, back when Klavier's kisses were still new, Klavier's affection still foreign. Welcome, but strange.
"I love you, too," he says, stroking Klavier's hair as they lie together in bed, damp and warm and tired. "I'm glad you're here with me."
"It is as I told Herr Edgeworth," Klavier says, catching Apollo's hand and kissing each knuckle, a soppy sort of gesture Apollo finds he no longer minds as much as he once did. "I would not want to be anywhere else."
Apollo catches his lover's hand and pulls it up to his own lips, kisses each of the singer's knuckles. "I'm glad," he says. "I wouldn't want you anywhere else, either."
~*~*~*~
Apollo passes the night in a haze of kisses and the smell of antiseptic cream, wakes the following morning refreshed and relaxed and happy, possibly for the first time since the incident, wakes to the sound of the door opening, Klavier greeting him quietly in German, kissing him gently on the lips. He tastes of morning air and vanilla mint chapstick, settles on the foot of the bed with an offering of hot coffee and a cherry danish, his voice light with the kind of smile Apollo can still remember seeing for the first time, free and warm and crooked and honest, as he promises Apollo "real food" for lunch, his mood contagious as he makes disparaging remarks about Apollo's country's notion of acceptable breakfast foods.
"Would you like it better if it were sausages and beer?" Apollo says, sipping his coffee, the heat wonderfully soothing where his throat is raw still from the night before.
"I would not," Klavier says. "But it is-” he coughs quietly. Slurps his coffee. "Well, Herr Patriotic, you taste this danish and tell me your feelings on the matter. I trust your judgment."
Apollo takes the fork Klavier presses into his hand, lifts it to his lips. Hands the fork back after one bite and gulps down half of his cup of coffee, just to unglue the pastry from the lining of his throat.
"Okay," he says, "I take it back. Maybe we should've asked Mr. Gumshoe to get us some groceries before he left."
"I hardly think we require the good detective's assistance for such a simple task," Klavier says. "I've sustained two successful careers in my life. I think I am more than capable of a task as simple as grocery shopping."
"With a face like yours?" Apollo says. "You'd never make it back without at least ten of your fans noticing you. Might be kind of hard to stay hidden if we had the paparazzi trying to sneak candid shots of you through the drapes."
"I could disguise myself," Klavier says, but his voice is smiling. "I have done so before, you know. Quite successfully."
Apollo finishes his coffee and sets his cup on the bedside table. "Yeah?" he says.
"Mmm. Once or twice, when my br-when it seemed best that I should not be terribly conspicuous, due to Kristoph's work," Klavier says. He chuckles. "Daryan had the idea once that I should dress as a woman and spend my day flirting with men. He expected me to resist, I suspect. Did not expect that I would play along, nor that I would make such a convincing Fräulein. We caused quite a commotion for ourselves, in the end."
"I can imagine," Apollo says.
"I pray that you cannot," Klavier says. "But it would be worth the trouble to find something decent to eat. Would you like that, my dear Forehead? To send out your beloved Fräulein to bring you something nice to have for lunch?"
Apollo snorts and reaches for his lover, pulls him down in a loose embrace. "Maybe later," he says. "I think this'll do, for now."
"And what is 'this,' baby?" Klavier says.
"Your disguise," Apollo says. "You're a simple vacationer, sleeping in."
"Oh, very clever," Klavier says. "Yes, I can see how this will do, as you say. For now."
They lie together comfortably, Klavier stroking Apollo's belly with his fingertips, humming the chorus of one of the Gaviners' early hits, Apollo listening to him, drifting in and out of consciousness, as numb and warm as though he were still taking the prescription painkillers he's not needed in over two weeks.
He's groggy when the sound of Klavier's phone chiming, receiving a text message, wakes him, though he doesn't remember falling fully asleep. Sits up and yawns widely enough to strain the burns on his cheek when Klavier shakes the bed, stumbling over to silence his phone.
"Anything wrong?" he says when Klavier doesn't come back to bed immediately, fingernails clicking softly against the touch-screen of his phone instead, sending a response.
"Nein," Klavier says. A lie: Apollo's bracelet vibrates against his wrist. "Just an update from Herr Wright. I am telling him that you are well. He worries about you, you know."
He sets his phone down on top of the TV, plastics clicking hollowly against one another. Goes over the sink and rummages for a moment, coming back to bed with the thick antiseptic smell of salve following him, warning Apollo to brace for a touch against his burns even before Klavier puts it into words.
"I am glad to see it was not a lie I told Herr Wright," he says, softly.
"What was Mr. Wright's update?" Apollo wants to know.
A sigh. "Nothing, really," Klavier says, setting off Apollo's bracelet again. Apollo shifts, pulls away from Klavier as far as he can without risk of falling off the opposite side of the bed. Puts his hand over his bracelet, a show of distrust Kristoph taught him to use whenever he was around someone who know about the Perceive system, someone who could be intimidated by Apollo's ability to see through even the best-crafted lies.
"Klavier," he says. "Tell me what Mr. Wright said. I'm not a child. I need to know what's going on."
Klavier sighs through his nose. "It is nothing serious," he says. "A threat was made against Herr Edgeworth, followed by a small demonstration of the ... the weight of the threat, I suppose? No one was harmed, but they will have to use caution. Of course, they would have anyway, I'm sure."
Apollo's stomach drops. "What do you mean, a demonstration?" he says. "Another bomb? Where? When?"
Klavier chuckles. A false sound, hollow and tired. Frightening. "Herr Wright instructed me to tell you only if you insisted on knowing, for fear that knowing might agitate you too much," he says. "I told him that not knowing would agitate you far worse, and it seems I was not incorrect. Calm down, Forehead, I will tell you everything."
Apollo squeezes his bracelet. Feels only a sliver of relief when it remains motionless, cool against his wrist.
"Fine, then," he says. "Tell me everything."
~*~*~*~
The salve on Apollo's burns has dried by the time Klavier has finished telling Apollo everything he knows, sent half a dozen text-messages to Mr. Wright to find out the answers to things he doesn't know, and tried at least a dozen times to pull Apollo's hand away from Apollo's bracelet, his attempts ceasing only when Apollo distracts him with his other hand, lacing their fingers together and squeezing tightly enough that Klavier doesn't even try to pull away.
It's not, as Klavier said, nothing serious, but it's nothing as devastating as the scenarios Apollo had cooked up in his imagination, waiting for Klavier to stop avoiding the issue and just tell him what's going on. A small bomb planted in Edgeworth's hotel room, mostly smoke and sparks, designed to scare rather than kill or maim. A startled maid sent to the hospital with symptoms from smoke inhalation. A hasty cover-story fed to reporters about Edgeworth going out for coffee just minutes before the explosion occurred, Klavier chuckling a bit too much when the truth comes out in a text-message, Mr. Wright sending nothing but he was actually with me at the time, I can assure you we're both perfectly safe and well.
"Herr Edgeworth has faced threats before, my dear Forehead," Klavier says, setting the phone aside and pulling Apollo into a loose embrace. "He will not be deterred from bringing those guilty of hurting you to justice."
"Before anyone else gets hurt," Apollo says, worrying the pad of his thumb against one of Klavier's knuckles. "If something happens to him because of me-”
"Then he will be making no greater sacrifice than you have made," Klavier says, placing his hand atop Apollo's, sandwiching it comfortably between his palms. "An arrest has been made. There will be no more incidents before everything has been brought to light. That is how the system of this country operates, is it not? 'Swift convictions for a safer society,' I believe is your motto."
Apollo nods. "It is," he says. "But-”
Klavier kisses him, a cool sort of kiss meant to shut him up. "There is no 'but,' Apollo," he says. "Have faith in the men you've chosen. We have, after all, trusted them for a reason."
<< Previous
Next >>
*cough* I'm only twenty-six months a little late in posting this up. Right?
Honestly, I tried to continue the story. Really I did. But I got conflicting feedback-one call for a super-happy ending, one concern that I was going too saccharin-and it kind of ... killed the story? Something like that? Honestly I don't even remember now what stopped me dead in my tracks. I do know that a lot has happened since I last posted: I got my first full-time career-related job, moved to a new state ten hours from the town I grew up in, traveled to six countries I'd never visited before, became a fully certified DSO (designated school official-which is cool because back when this story was posted, I'd yet to learn what a DSO even was, let alone what we do), wrote a full master's thesis, and a complete novel (both of which I still have yet to publish, wtf).
This story came from a day spent in a van in the parking lot of an amusement park. No, I'm not kidding. I loaded every chapter of TSAATSD onto my laptop in the park's wireless cafe, went out to my van (the college's van, I'm just the sorry SOB who has to drive the thing), re-read the entire thing, then sat back and wrote almost all of this in one go. Got more planned for you, but no promises on the updates-this career-oriented DSO job thing is seriously time-intensive.
I don't know if I've captured what I had going on in the other chapters, I don't know where I'm going with the story, and worst of all, I don't know where I was planning on going with it back when I was still working on it full-time. That said, I hope it's enjoyable, I hope it doesn't disappoint, and I hope to have more of it written and posted for y'all soon.
Oh, and finally, it's dedicated with laughter & love for my friend Lil who doesn't know she booted me into finishing this, but did. If you like this story, you owe her your thanks. I wouldn't've picked it back up without her feedback sparking my interest in moving forward.
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
Part Eight
Part Nine
Part Ten
Part Eleven
Part Twelve
Part Thirteen
Part Fourteen
Part Fifteen
The Slow Ascent after the Sharpest Drop
Part XV
by mistr3ss Quickly
That night, for the first time since the incident, Apollo and Klavier make love.
Apollo initiates, moving from gentle, reassuring kisses, to the deeper sort of kisses that used to make him feel as horny and desperate and awkward as a teenager, despite his actual age. He pulls at Klavier's clothing when Klavier moans into his mouth, strips himself when Klavier pulls away with a grunt of frustration and undresses fully.
He laughs when Klavier berates himself for not packing lubricant or condoms. Gets a smack on the ass when he directs Klavier to the side-pocket of the duffel-bag he packed himself while Klavier was busy fussing over the toiletries, explains with a shrug that pulls at his burns that it seemed like it'd be worth it to be prepared. Just in case.
"In case of what, baby?" Klavier says, slinking up the bed-still made, the polyester comforter vaguely itchy under Apollo's bare skin.
"In case you decided to stop treating me like I'm made of glass and let me t-take care of you," Apollo says. "For once."
"Ah. You mean in case I got the stick out of my ass and needed something else to put in its place, no?" Klavier says.
Apollo can taste the laughter on his words when he arches up for a kiss. Blushes over them anyway, fumbling a little with the bottle of lube Klavier presses into his hand.
He takes his time, much more aware than he's ever been, before, of the tightness of his lover's body, the way the muscles around his fingers clamp down every time Klavier gasps, realizes that it's actually the other way around, Klavier gasping in response to his body tightening, resisting what they both want. He shoulders Klavier off of him, gets the man to roll onto his back with no small amount of difficulty and resistance. Saves himself from his lover's questions of what are we doing, baby? by covering the head of Klavier's erection with his mouth, works his fingers in and out of Klavier's body with much less difficulty once he's set a rhythm, sucking and licking and teasing.
He keeps Klavier in that position, spread open and vulnerable on the cheap bedspread when he's decided Klavier is ready for him. Bats Klavier's hands away when the older man tries to help him with the condom, tries to touch him. Tries to stroke him, to distract him.
"Hold yourself open for me?" he says, guiding Klavier's hands to the singer's muscular thighs.
Klavier whines. "You will be the undoing of me, baby," he says. "Mein Gott."
Apollo doesn't argue. He bites his lip and presses forward, exhaling slowly as he pushes just a few inches into his lover's body. Doesn't bother telling Klavier that he's feeling pretty well undone, himself.
He lasts longer than he's expecting to last, even has a little trouble finding his completion inside his lover, once the initial thrill of tight-warm-tight has passed. He moves slowly at first, not wanting to come too quickly and leave his partner unsatisfied. Discovers that waiting is a mistake, one which allows the strain of his slow-healing injuries to eat at his body's stamina, leaving him breathless and tired and aching where his burns are the worst. Beneath him, Klavier moans softly with each thrust, moving with him once he's established a rhythm. Doesn't give any indication that he's noticed Apollo's difficulties, devoted fully to the pleasure of the act, the thrill of getting fucked. He whines a little when Apollo stops thrusting and focuses fully on stroking him. Lifts himself, thigh muscles tight and trembling where they grip Apollo's hips as he works himself up and down, fucking himself on Apollo's erection.
"You should not tease me, baby," he scolds, breathlessly. "Not after-ah Gott-not when it has been such a long, long time."
Apollo pushes forward to meet each downward push of his lover's body. Swallows hard as his body warms once again towards orgasm, slow but steady. Wonderful.
"No teasing, huh?" he says, feeling for Klavier's cock. "How's this, then?"
A careful squeeze at the root. A twist at the crown. Steady, firm strokes in time with the up-and-down rhythm of Klavier's hips.
Klavier groans. "Good, ah Gott baby, it's so good."
Apollo shivers. "Yeah," he says. "Yeah, it is."
Good enough that he ignores the pull of his burns, the fatigue of his muscles, and fucks Klavier into the mattress for the last heart-pounding moments before orgasm takes him. He can hear himself making noise as he reaches his peak-little grunts and groans, decently quiet from years of making love to his court-room rival in apartments with neighbors only a thin wall away-but his throat is raw after his orgasm rips through him, making him blush as the aftershocks die down and the realization hits him that he probably shouted when he came, loudly enough that he was probably audible in other rooms, thanks to his Chords of Steel training.
He pushes his embarrassment aside and focuses on bringing Klavier off, instead. Ignores the older man's protests and brings him off with lips and tongue and throat, the fingers of his good hand pushing into Klavier's body, fucking him as hard and fast as Apollo regrets the rest of his body wouldn't allow him to do.
"Baby, stop," Klavier gasps, just as Apollo's jaw is starting to ache, one of the burns on his neck feeling raw where the angle of his body is pulling at it. "Stop, baby, Apollo, I'm-ah I will come soon, you should-ngh!"
Apollo takes it, swallows what he can and keeps the rest in his mouth, swallowing once his throat's gotten used to the idea and loosens. He licks his lips, afterwards, chuckles softly when Klavier gets up to fetch him a cup of water from the sink at the far end of the room. Says it's fine when Klavier frets over him, offering him a cough-drop to cover the flavor of his semen.
"It's really not so bad," he says, pulling Klavier close and kissing him.
"You are very bad at lying, my dear Forehead," Klavier says against his lips. "I am tasting it only second-hand, and I can tell that it is unpleasant."
Apollo feels his face heat. "Not so bad every once in a while," he amends.
Klavier laughs and kisses him again, pulls him gently into the bathroom and bathes with him, Apollo's body moving sluggishly, as tired as if he'd run a mile. Kisses Apollo over and over while they bathe. Tells him how much he loves him.
Apollo feels his chest swell, just as ridiculously pleased and in love as he felt, back when Klavier's kisses were still new, Klavier's affection still foreign. Welcome, but strange.
"I love you, too," he says, stroking Klavier's hair as they lie together in bed, damp and warm and tired. "I'm glad you're here with me."
"It is as I told Herr Edgeworth," Klavier says, catching Apollo's hand and kissing each knuckle, a soppy sort of gesture Apollo finds he no longer minds as much as he once did. "I would not want to be anywhere else."
Apollo catches his lover's hand and pulls it up to his own lips, kisses each of the singer's knuckles. "I'm glad," he says. "I wouldn't want you anywhere else, either."
~*~*~*~
Apollo passes the night in a haze of kisses and the smell of antiseptic cream, wakes the following morning refreshed and relaxed and happy, possibly for the first time since the incident, wakes to the sound of the door opening, Klavier greeting him quietly in German, kissing him gently on the lips. He tastes of morning air and vanilla mint chapstick, settles on the foot of the bed with an offering of hot coffee and a cherry danish, his voice light with the kind of smile Apollo can still remember seeing for the first time, free and warm and crooked and honest, as he promises Apollo "real food" for lunch, his mood contagious as he makes disparaging remarks about Apollo's country's notion of acceptable breakfast foods.
"Would you like it better if it were sausages and beer?" Apollo says, sipping his coffee, the heat wonderfully soothing where his throat is raw still from the night before.
"I would not," Klavier says. "But it is-” he coughs quietly. Slurps his coffee. "Well, Herr Patriotic, you taste this danish and tell me your feelings on the matter. I trust your judgment."
Apollo takes the fork Klavier presses into his hand, lifts it to his lips. Hands the fork back after one bite and gulps down half of his cup of coffee, just to unglue the pastry from the lining of his throat.
"Okay," he says, "I take it back. Maybe we should've asked Mr. Gumshoe to get us some groceries before he left."
"I hardly think we require the good detective's assistance for such a simple task," Klavier says. "I've sustained two successful careers in my life. I think I am more than capable of a task as simple as grocery shopping."
"With a face like yours?" Apollo says. "You'd never make it back without at least ten of your fans noticing you. Might be kind of hard to stay hidden if we had the paparazzi trying to sneak candid shots of you through the drapes."
"I could disguise myself," Klavier says, but his voice is smiling. "I have done so before, you know. Quite successfully."
Apollo finishes his coffee and sets his cup on the bedside table. "Yeah?" he says.
"Mmm. Once or twice, when my br-when it seemed best that I should not be terribly conspicuous, due to Kristoph's work," Klavier says. He chuckles. "Daryan had the idea once that I should dress as a woman and spend my day flirting with men. He expected me to resist, I suspect. Did not expect that I would play along, nor that I would make such a convincing Fräulein. We caused quite a commotion for ourselves, in the end."
"I can imagine," Apollo says.
"I pray that you cannot," Klavier says. "But it would be worth the trouble to find something decent to eat. Would you like that, my dear Forehead? To send out your beloved Fräulein to bring you something nice to have for lunch?"
Apollo snorts and reaches for his lover, pulls him down in a loose embrace. "Maybe later," he says. "I think this'll do, for now."
"And what is 'this,' baby?" Klavier says.
"Your disguise," Apollo says. "You're a simple vacationer, sleeping in."
"Oh, very clever," Klavier says. "Yes, I can see how this will do, as you say. For now."
They lie together comfortably, Klavier stroking Apollo's belly with his fingertips, humming the chorus of one of the Gaviners' early hits, Apollo listening to him, drifting in and out of consciousness, as numb and warm as though he were still taking the prescription painkillers he's not needed in over two weeks.
He's groggy when the sound of Klavier's phone chiming, receiving a text message, wakes him, though he doesn't remember falling fully asleep. Sits up and yawns widely enough to strain the burns on his cheek when Klavier shakes the bed, stumbling over to silence his phone.
"Anything wrong?" he says when Klavier doesn't come back to bed immediately, fingernails clicking softly against the touch-screen of his phone instead, sending a response.
"Nein," Klavier says. A lie: Apollo's bracelet vibrates against his wrist. "Just an update from Herr Wright. I am telling him that you are well. He worries about you, you know."
He sets his phone down on top of the TV, plastics clicking hollowly against one another. Goes over the sink and rummages for a moment, coming back to bed with the thick antiseptic smell of salve following him, warning Apollo to brace for a touch against his burns even before Klavier puts it into words.
"I am glad to see it was not a lie I told Herr Wright," he says, softly.
"What was Mr. Wright's update?" Apollo wants to know.
A sigh. "Nothing, really," Klavier says, setting off Apollo's bracelet again. Apollo shifts, pulls away from Klavier as far as he can without risk of falling off the opposite side of the bed. Puts his hand over his bracelet, a show of distrust Kristoph taught him to use whenever he was around someone who know about the Perceive system, someone who could be intimidated by Apollo's ability to see through even the best-crafted lies.
"Klavier," he says. "Tell me what Mr. Wright said. I'm not a child. I need to know what's going on."
Klavier sighs through his nose. "It is nothing serious," he says. "A threat was made against Herr Edgeworth, followed by a small demonstration of the ... the weight of the threat, I suppose? No one was harmed, but they will have to use caution. Of course, they would have anyway, I'm sure."
Apollo's stomach drops. "What do you mean, a demonstration?" he says. "Another bomb? Where? When?"
Klavier chuckles. A false sound, hollow and tired. Frightening. "Herr Wright instructed me to tell you only if you insisted on knowing, for fear that knowing might agitate you too much," he says. "I told him that not knowing would agitate you far worse, and it seems I was not incorrect. Calm down, Forehead, I will tell you everything."
Apollo squeezes his bracelet. Feels only a sliver of relief when it remains motionless, cool against his wrist.
"Fine, then," he says. "Tell me everything."
~*~*~*~
The salve on Apollo's burns has dried by the time Klavier has finished telling Apollo everything he knows, sent half a dozen text-messages to Mr. Wright to find out the answers to things he doesn't know, and tried at least a dozen times to pull Apollo's hand away from Apollo's bracelet, his attempts ceasing only when Apollo distracts him with his other hand, lacing their fingers together and squeezing tightly enough that Klavier doesn't even try to pull away.
It's not, as Klavier said, nothing serious, but it's nothing as devastating as the scenarios Apollo had cooked up in his imagination, waiting for Klavier to stop avoiding the issue and just tell him what's going on. A small bomb planted in Edgeworth's hotel room, mostly smoke and sparks, designed to scare rather than kill or maim. A startled maid sent to the hospital with symptoms from smoke inhalation. A hasty cover-story fed to reporters about Edgeworth going out for coffee just minutes before the explosion occurred, Klavier chuckling a bit too much when the truth comes out in a text-message, Mr. Wright sending nothing but he was actually with me at the time, I can assure you we're both perfectly safe and well.
"Herr Edgeworth has faced threats before, my dear Forehead," Klavier says, setting the phone aside and pulling Apollo into a loose embrace. "He will not be deterred from bringing those guilty of hurting you to justice."
"Before anyone else gets hurt," Apollo says, worrying the pad of his thumb against one of Klavier's knuckles. "If something happens to him because of me-”
"Then he will be making no greater sacrifice than you have made," Klavier says, placing his hand atop Apollo's, sandwiching it comfortably between his palms. "An arrest has been made. There will be no more incidents before everything has been brought to light. That is how the system of this country operates, is it not? 'Swift convictions for a safer society,' I believe is your motto."
Apollo nods. "It is," he says. "But-”
Klavier kisses him, a cool sort of kiss meant to shut him up. "There is no 'but,' Apollo," he says. "Have faith in the men you've chosen. We have, after all, trusted them for a reason."
<< Previous
Next >>